Sunday, May 30, 2010

A Few Randoms.

First, I want to say "HI!" and "Thank you" to my new followers. I appreciate it a lot....

I am still trying to get over the "blogger blues." I have a few things I want to post about, but I'm feeling kind of lazy at the moment and my posts are always so damn long-winded. Hopefully I will have something significant to post by mid-week.

I am out of shape. As hell. I was already aware of this, but it became even more obvious to me over the weekend when the Wii Fit was kicking my ass. I tried a few strength training exercises, and my abs are STILL sore. I must have some masochistic tendencies though, because I can't wait to do it again this week.

Can SOMEBODY hire me? Anybody? Please?

I really wish I could figure out how to fix my blog layout. There are simple things that I am trying to fix so it will be easier to navigate, but I guess I'm not as computer-literate as I thought.

That's all for now. Hope everyone enjoys their Memorial Day weekend.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

What's This "Knowing Your Place" Business?

Since I began blogging, I like to browse through different blogs and read up on other people's views about politics, celebrities, and life in general. Having said that, I don't always agree, or "co-sign," with the views that I read up on. A blog that I stumbled upon today would be one of those instances. I won't say whose blog it was, because my intention is not to start any online beef, or put anybody on blast. I just thought I would get my thoughts out regarding the issue.

This particular blog topic was dealing with a female who discovered that her boyfriend's ex was hitting him up and revealing that she still had feelings for him. The ex was pouring her heart out, saying that she would always love him even though he had moved on and found someone else and had a baby, blah, blah, blah. She said she knew what she was saying wouldn't change anything, but she just felt that it had to be said.

Then the blogger goes on to talk about how she can't stand "sideline chicks" and that SHE has "only" been a sideline chick once in her life. She claims that she "knew her place" when she was messing around with someone else's man and that she never proclaimed her love for that man or said or did anything else that could potentially jeopardize his relationship with his woman.

In other words, this woman seemed to have no issue with her man keeping in contact with his ex; she only had problems with the fact that the other woman "didn't know her place." She claimed that the new breed of "sideline bitches" have no respect for the men that they are going after and disregard the feelings of the wives and children of the men that they are involved with. This isn't the first time I've heard women complain about another woman "not knowing her place" or "playing her position." It has never made sense to me before, and it doesn't make sense to me now. You mean to tell me it's cool to sleep with another woman's husband/boyfriend, as long as you don't tell him you love him, or otherwise attempt to keep your feelings out of it? How about not sleeping with him in the first place? I'm not trying to sound holier-than-thou, but in my opinion, I don't care how detached or discreet you try to be when having an affair, wrong is wrong. If I knew of my man cheating on me with another female, I would feel disrespected, whether she was the type that never showed her face, or if she preferred to show up to my house uninvited.

Then there's the omission of the role that the man plays in this whole ordeal. Grrr. That irks me more than anything. No matter how many Lifetime movies or Maury episodes I watch, I cannot for the life of me understand how women will happily pit themselves against each other while the man that they have been sharing looks on, not lifting a finger to dissolve the mess that he helped create. All forms of communication, whether it be Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Skype, AIM, BBM, text messaging, phone calls, whatever, go both ways. A female can't keep in contact with a man unless he wants her to. There's nothing worse than a grown man acting oblivious to a woman wanting to be more than friends (especially if he has had a previous romantic relationship with her).

I think this misguided idea of what constitutes disrespect in a "sideline chick" situation is the reason why these "love" (or lust) triangles will always be around. There will always be the "main chick" pointing the finger at the wrong person for the wrong reason, and there will always be the "sideline chick" who thinks that as long as she plays her position and stays in the background, she's being respectful. And of course, there will always be the man, who will never have anyone around to tell him about himself. What to do, people, what to do?

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Brain Freeze.

Have you ever had one of those times when life is not really horrible enough to write about, but not really amazing enough to write about either? That's where I'm at right now. I have a horrible case of blogger's block. :( Hence the lack of posts. Umm.....yeah, that's all I have for now.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Why, The Dream, Why?

From this.................

....................To this.


Disclaimer: I will not be re-posting any links to the song, as I feel enough disrespect has been shown already. Feel free to Google it if you want to subject yourself to this torture.

I don't even know where to begin with the coonery. If any of you follow blogs like I do, or if you've just heard about it through word-of-mouth, most of you know that a track was released yesterday by The Dream that covered Aaliyah's 1996 single "One in a Million." As soon as I read "The Dream covers 'One in a Million'" I knew there was going to be some bullshit. But I swallowed my fear/reluctance and pressed "play" to find out what exactly The Dream felt he had to offer to this song in particular.

What in the falsetto-autotuned nasal singing hell? What was he thinking? I mean, really, The Dream, what were you thinking? (Side note: the fact that I have to put "the" in front of this coon's name is another reason why I hate him.) I don't know if I missed the memo, but the last time I checked, The Dream was not at the top of the list of modern-day master vocalists. To be honest, I can't think of any current R&B artists (male or female) that would do this song justice. But since a male singer attempted to pull it off, I'll mention some names that MIGHT have gotten a pass from me. C.Breezy? Maybe. Usher? Hmm....he's skating on thin ice lately, but if it were back during his "Confessions" glory, perhaps. Not even Trey Songz tried to touch it, and this nigga comes out with a remix to other artists' songs every week! Yet The Dream, an artist who is a two-hit wonder AT BEST, thought he could swoop in with his irritating voice and remake a classic? Kill yourself.

It just....ugh....I don't think words can express how this disturbed my spirit. I never thought of myself as an Aaliyah "stan," but I suppose this whole spectacle has brought it out of me. And another thing: why does The Dream seem to be determined to establish himself as a sex symbol? I won't lie; I loved "Falsetto" when it first hit the radio, but when I saw who was the voice behind it, it killed the sexiness of it for me. The only image I see in my head when I hear that song now is his chubby face, oddly shaped body, and beady eyes. Not sexy at all. "One in a Million" was a sexy song when Aaliyah sang it; when The Dream tried it, I felt dirty and ashamed after listening. I curse him and whoever participated in the recording of that cover to the depths of album-flop hell.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Culture Shock.

I promised myself that I wouldn't get caught up in the "Well, they do things this way in Atlanta...." state of mind when I moved back home, because I know unnecessary drama can potentially follow when you're constantly making comparisons. But there are cultural differences that just can't be ignored. A few that I've noticed so far:

People actually put their blinkers on and drive according to the speed limit in St. Louis. I can't count how many times I came close to death while driving on the Atlanta highways because I was going 10 miles ABOVE the speed limit and some psycho in a BMW felt the need to tailgate me at 90 mph. And don't even THINK about putting your blinker on if you need to switch lanes or get off at an exit in the "A." Somehow, this prompts other drivers to do everything in their power not to let you over. Where are those traffic cops when you need them?

Everything is so close here! I've gotten so accustomed to leaving an hour before I have to be anywhere in anticipation of crazy traffic. Needless to say, my mom looked at me like I was insane when I announced that I was heading out at 11:45 for a 12:30 interview that was only 20 minutes from my house.

Speaking of interviews, the interview I had today was the most casual, stress-free interview I've had in forever. The guy I talked to was cracking jokes the whole time, and when I explained why I was fired from my last job, he waved his hand in dismissal and said, "Oh well." He went on to talk about how he has hired several college graduates who couldn't find jobs and encouraged them to continue to search for jobs in their field while working at his company. Don't know if I'll get the job, but it was refreshing to have an interview that didn't feel like a death sentence.

I thought I had more, but my mind is drawing a blank right now so I guess I'll stop there. I'll add more if I think of any later.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

When Are Folks Gonna Grow Up?

I'm minding my own business on this Saturday afternoon, sleeping in since I have been waking up early every day this week. My sleep is interrupted when I get a text message. I can never leave text messages unread for long, so I reach over and see who it's from. It's some random number with an Atlanta area code saying "Hey what's up!" Innocent enough, right? The conversation proceeds to go on like this:

Me: Hey who's this?
Random #: Where da fuck u at!
Me: Umm can't say until I know who you phone, no numbers...
Random #: It's Ronald mcdonald bitch come suck my dick!!!!!
Random #: Haha just messing around it's mike!

At this point, I know that this has to be a prank, and I have a pretty good idea who it is. First off, the only person I know named "Mike" doesn't have an Atlanta phone number, and he damn sure wouldn't be simple enough to send me a text message about sucking his dick. Second, there are only a select few people that would understand the "Ronald McDonald" reference. Back when I went to Clark Atlanta University, I went to the local McDonald's with some friends. While we were there, there was a crackhead lady hanging outside the front of McDonald's yelling about how she had "sucked Ronald McDonald's dick." It was probably one of the funniest things I ever heard while I was in Atlanta and I told the story to several people....but I never mentioned it to my friend Mike. The only people that would know about Mike and the McDonald's thing--and be bitter enough to text me about it--would be my ex-roommates.

I show the messages to my brother and he texts back, simply saying that they are stupid. Then the mystery person replies: "Cmon Mandy where u at?!" I suppose that's meant to imply that they had the "wrong number." Sure you did.

I can't help but slightly be pissed off. The whole point of my moving out was to eliminate the drama I was facing while living in that hell hole. When I left, I promptly blocked and/or deleted anyone on my Facebook that I became acquainted with while living in the house. Therefore it's quite obvious that I want nothing else to do with any of you motherfuckers. Why would you then still contact me with some junior high bullshit? Aren't you all 25+? Why the childish games?

I suppose some people just have issues with rejection. Even though they act like they are emotionless and are not phased by being dropped, the insecurity always manages to manifest itself with little gems like the text messages above. But I thank them for giving me yet another reason for why moving out was the best decision I could have made. Have a nice life y'all. :)

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

New Shit.

Due to my recent roommate issues (see "Where's a Knife When You Need It?"), and the fact that I am STILL unemployed (temp jobs don't count in my humble opinion), I finally decided to throw in the towel and head back to good ol' St. Louie. In my first two days back, I saw two people from school and work that I recognized, making me depressed that this city is so damn small.

Money troubles still follow me though. I spent $500 to have car repairs done before I made the road trip back, and $355 for that little speeding ticket I got on my birthday. Definitely not happy about that. I guess I should start job hunting before my funds run completely dry, but the truth is that I don't even know where to begin. The mall? Bleh. Office job? Ugh.....they be on that bullshit so that's questionable. I'm also looking into nursing school, but I still need a job in the meantime. I feel like I've exhausted just about every resource there is to find a job, and I'm still coming up empty. I just don't know anymore.

Anyway, I guess this means that I'm not bored and random in the "A" anymore; I'm bored and random in the "STL." But I don't feel like changing the name of the has a nice ring to it.

Friday, May 7, 2010

"Do You Cook?"

Why is this the #1 question that guys ask? I don't care if you've been talking to them for two months or two seconds, it always seems to come up somehow. Maybe I'm being too sensitive, but this question irks the hell out of me.

First of all......nigga do YOU cook? Just because I have a menstrual cycle does not mean that I am going to be the black Rachael Ray by default. That's like me assuming that just because you have a penis that you have a job.....because half the time that ain't the case. Yeah, I said it.

Second, even if I am a beast in the kitchen, why do these dudes assume that I am ready and waiting to slave over a hot stove for them? Call me old-fashioned, but throwing down on some food is something you do for your man, not just a random nigga that texts you every couple weeks when he's bored. These are the same ones that would look at you like you're insane if you even ask them to take you out to a movie. "You ain't my girl!" is what they would think and/or say, depending on how bold they are. But how can you expect relationship-like privileges from me (i.e., cooking for you) and you don't want me to reap any relationship-like benefits from you? I'm assuming (because I'm not a man) that he is thinking a woman has to EARN the privilege of being taken out to dinner, movies, etc. In the same way, I feel a man has to EARN the privilege of me putting the time and effort into making a meal for him.

I don't just seems to me like there are way too many double standards in the dating game to keep track of. On one hand, guys seem to want a lady who does the traditional cooking, cleaning, and catering to her man, and at the same time they want a non-traditional independent woman that works a 9-5, has her own separate stash of money, and never asks her man for anything. I don't mind being independent at all, and I never expect any handouts from a man, but if I'm working all the time just like a man, how does he then still want me to act like a traditional housewife? It's the proverbial case of "having your cake and eating it too." Basically some of these guys want a damn Renaissance woman or Superwoman when they're nowhere near Superman.

Do You..........

..................Ever stare at your phone and think you can will it to ring? I hope that's the right word I'm looking for. And then when it does ring, you get pissed because the phone call is not from who you expect it to be? That's what I'm doing right now. So nerve-wracking.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

This Nigga..........

I tried to find the douche-baggiest photo of him that I could; hopefully this will suffice. So here it goes. I'm on and there's a post about an interview that Ozone magazine did with Bow Wow. That's my first issue with this whole ordeal. Why are we interviewing Bow Wow again? When is the last time he was relevant? Does he have an album dropping soon? Do we want him to have an album dropping soon? Oh, silly me. I forgot he has that good film coming out about a lottery ticket. Riiiiiight.

Anyway, on to the meat-and-potatoes of the bullshit. For some reason, the media has allowed Bow Wow to believe that his opinions on women and sex are valid. Being the delusional narcissist that he is, he embraces the media's enabling, and never passes up the opportunity to open his mouth to pour out all types of idiocy. He claims that he would never date a woman that has "been with" another rapper or a basketball player. His reason? Women are supposed to be "pure." They are supposed to cherish their bodies, whereas men are "dogs." Dogs, Bow Wow says, are messy and dirty. Huh. Never knew that. He says it's a double standard but that's just the way it is.

Now I know Bow Wow is not the first male to say something along those lines (I say male because I can't bring myself to call him a man), but no matter how many times I hear it, it never ceases to piss me off. So I'm supposed to keep myself "pure" while you zip around the country doing whatever and whomever you please, then you come home to me and de-sanitize my purity with the same "messy and dirty" ding-a-ling that has been in all of those "un-pure" kit-kats? No sir. And this "that's just the way it is" bullshit is exactly that: bullshit. Killing animals for sport is just the way it is too, but that doesn't make it cool, and I'm almost certain it doesn't make bears and deer any more comfortable with being shot.

Bow Wow's not done sharing his wisdom though. He's asked if he has ever had a bad sexual experience. He claims that he hasn't, then proceeds to go on a tangent about how he hates women who "move too much" during sex. "Stay still!" Bow Wow says. In other words, if you are a corpse, you are Bow Wow's kind of girl. The fact that I even have to put "Bow Wow" and "sex" in the same sentence makes me itch.

I just can't get with this dude. He hasn't had an album in years and girls still go crazy for him, but even in my teeny-bopper days I couldn't stand Bow Wow (or "Lil' Bow Wow," as he was so affectionately called back in the day). All of his albums sucked in my opinion....well I never listened to ALL of his albums, but the ones that I listened to sucked. He's a mediocre actor. I'm sorry, but that role in "Like Mike" doesn't count. To top it off, he stays on the Internet on his fucking Ustream talking shit like people are holding their very last breath to hear what Bow Wow has to say. He's the epitome of child superstar gone wrong. One day, he's cocky as hell, talking about all the women he's fucked and all the money he has, and the next day he's suicidal and shit, saying he's done everything he could do in this life and the superstar life isn't all that it's cracked up to be. What is it Bow Wow? Are you a "pimp" or are you a poor little rich boy? Pick one, you can't be both.

And no, I'm not going to see your stupid ass movie.

Here's the link if you want to see it for yourself:

Monday, May 3, 2010

Where's a Knife When You Need It?

Where to start......oh yeah. So I had my gate key stolen the night of my birthday right......even though it would seem that a gate key is the least significant thing to be stolen, I knew it would be the biggest pain in the ass considering that the gate key issue has been a major source of drama where I live. Back when we first moved into the house, everyone had access to the gate.....except for me. My roommates work late nights so they use that as an excuse to sleep until 4pm every day, and I had to deal with the annoyance of sitting outside of the gate on several occasions because my roommate would never answer the code to open the gate. After months of dealing with this, I finally approached my roommate and asked him what could be done to fix the situation. He said he would talk to the landlord about it, and reported back to me that she said a new gate key would be $25. I got a money order the next week, got my key soon after, and was drama-free for the next couple months.

Fast-forward to now. Since I'm not working at the same job, I'm free to roam among the living during the daytime. On the days that I had to go out early, I sent a message to my roommate to ask if I could borrow his gate key. When I was done with it, I promptly gave it back to him. One day, I came home and got a random text from him saying that he had left the gate key on the counter for me. He didn't specify that he would need it back or anything. Cool. I was using it, not really giving it any thought, but I could feel weird vibes from him whenever I came in and out of the house like he was upset about something but didn't say it. I couldn't figure out what it was, then one day he knocked on my door and asked for his key back so he could pick up his cat from the groomer. Then the light bulb went off. Was that why he had been acting funny before? Knowing how petty he is, probably so. I hadn't intentionally kept the key; the thought had never crossed my mind that he wanted it back because he didn't really say anything one way or another. I gave it back and later, he mentioned something to me about how he didn't mind sharing the key, and suggested I put the key on the counter when I was done with it. I didn't have a problem with that.

Then I started working at this temp job last week, and the training was on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 8:30am to 5pm. My roommates leave for work at 5, so there was no way I would be able to "leave the gate key out" for them. I ran some other errands Thursday and Friday so I wasn't at home before they left for work either. This is when the bullshit starts. I get a notification on my phone from Facebook. It's a wall post from my roommate saying he'll need the gate key next week because he has "appointments and food shopping et cetera et cetera before work." I roll my eyes and can't help but be annoyed at his choice of words; as if he's the only one that has "appointments" next week. And why is he writing on my wall on Facebook? Why not text/call me, or better yet, say something to my face when we're both at the house? I'm trying to stay in a good mood though, so rather than snap back with a bitchy reply, I decide to fuck with him. I respond saying that I thought he already had the gate key, and that the security guard in our subdivision has been letting me in. He replies saying he hasn't seen the gate key "for weeks now." Now I know he's full of shit. I've only had the gate key in my possession consistently for the past week.

Then we go out Saturday night. I finally reveal to him that I was pranking him about the gate key. He sort of laughs it off like it's whatever. Sunday night, I'm in bed and my roommates are downstairs when I get another Facebook notification. It's yet another wall post from my roommate (who is only about twenty feet away from me in the house) saying he has to go out tomorrow and I "need" to leave the gate key on the counter. I go downstairs and ask what time he has to be out tomorrow because I have an interview at 12pm. He says he has to be out at 1. I tell him I don't know if I'll be back by 1, so how is that going to work out? His response: "It doesn't matter; you need to leave the gate key out. It's MY key."

That sets me off. What the fuck do you mean, it doesn't matter? I'm supposed to sit my ass outside the gate after coming back from my interview so YOU won't be inconvenienced?
Apparently that's exactly what he means, as he says it's "not his problem" that I "lost" my gate key and adds that it's my responsibility to find a way to get in. I find this ironic, especially since a while ago, my other roommate actually did lose her gate key and he let her use his without giving her any grief about giving it back to him. I also never heard of her having to own up and be "responsible" for finding a way to get inside.

Then he uses his best authoritative voice and says the gate key needs to be in the tray by tomorrow. I tell him he's nobody's daddy in this house and that he can fuck off. We go back and forth about some other bullshit for a moment, most of the argument consisting of him saying that he was trying to be "nice" by letting me use his key and that I am taking advantage of his kindness and essentially stealing the key. Yes, because the #1 thing on a thief's list of things to steal is a gate key. Never mind that silly little Mac that he leaves out all the time that could easily be taken while he's at work. Oh no. He says he didn't find the joke about me not having the key funny (surprise), but that doesn't really matter to me because I found it hilarious and the fact that he's not amused tickles me even more.

I suppose that really sets him off because he gets the bright idea to run upstairs to my room and search for the gate key himself. I take off after him and tell him to get the fuck out. I pay rent here, and I'll be damned if his crazy ass tries to play security guard up in this bitch like he runs shit. Then......this motherfucker. Puts his fucking hands on me. Trying to push his way past me to get into MY room. Where they do that at? I tell him to get his hands off me and take his ass out of my room. My other roommate comes out of her room to see what the commotion is. He tells her I'm being a bitch. I tell him to fuck off again and slam the door in his face. I call my parents' house to tell them that I think I'm about to go to jail for murder. I'm telling my dad what happened when I hear my roommate downstairs still talking shit.

I come out of my room to curse him out some more. He's still yelling out how "ungrateful" and "spoiled" I am and says this is my last "break" from him. I tell him he hasn't given me any breaks and he replies that I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for him. Really now? And where exactly am I, I would like to know? I thank him for helping me get a job that I got fired from. He says that's because I was too "stupid" to fight for my job. I tell him he's just a clueless white man and doesn't realize that the people at that company didn't give a fuck about my black ass, no matter how much I fought. Then he goes on a rant about all he did for me when I was broke and car-less at Clark Atlanta and he picked me up and bought food for me. I tell him that's exactly why I haven't asked him for shit since then because I don't need it thrown up in my face.

Finally, my other roommate, who has been calmly playing his video game the whole time, speaks up and says that I should just pay $25 for the key that I already have. I didn't have a problem paying $25 since I paid for my last gate key, but I didn't even know if I would be staying in Atlanta so why would I pay for another key if I wasn't staying? They seem to think that's the solution to the problem, and I'm done at this point so I go back inside my room.

Then I start thinking about it. Why the fuck should I stay somewhere where my roommate will physically fight me over a gate key? It's not like I sacrificed his cat in a Satanic ritual. I have to remember that this is the same motherfucker who wrote a long Facebook message to the entire household because we were (or I was) putting water bottles on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator that was "reserved" for his water. Pause. Someone obviously has serious entitlement issues, along with other issues that I'm not equipped to deal with. Go see a therapist sweetheart.

Damn. Motherfuckers always want to start shit AFTER I pay rent for the month.

Saturday, May 1, 2010


I feel pretty pathetic for doing so much blogging on a Saturday night, but whatever. This is on my mind so I figured I would post it before I forget. So I went to the mall yesterday with my friend K and we stopped at the food court in between shopping. We got our food and looked for a table to sit at. K paused at one table to sit down, but I quickly looked it over and saw that whoever had sat there before us left a mess so I shook my head no and sat elsewhere.

When we sat down, K laughed and said that she was telling another friend of ours how "sadiddy" I am, and used what I had just done moments ago as an example. I asked her if that was bad and she said no. This isn't the first time I've been called "sadiddy" or "bourgie" but whenever people say that I am, I always wonder why. They immediately assure me that it's a good thing, but for some reason I've always thought those words had negative connotations. I never thought it described me at all. When I think "sadiddy," I think of some spoiled upper-class BAP who's never had a job and Daddy still pays her cell phone and credit card bills, which is not me in any shape or form.

Apparently being "sadiddy" means you don't like tacky or dirty shit? I'll be the first to admit, I can't stand nastiness. I refuse to use a dirty bathroom or share the refrigerators at work, because I know for a fact that people don't wash their hands before they go in there. What's wrong with that though? I don't think of it as "sadiddy;" more so as just being sanitary. That's how everyone should be, I think.

Idk....if being "sadiddy" means I won't die from contracting some horrendous bacterial disease, I'll take it.

Should I.....

.......take the plunge and buy a new pair of shoes? The last time I bought shoes was back in November (a pair of boots from Aldo) and for anyone that knows me, that's a looooooong time for me to go without buying footwear. I made the mistake of going into the Aldo store yesterday and fell in love with about 5 different pairs of heels. I "need" something to go with my outfit on Monday, but I wonder if it's sensible to buy a pair of shoes at this moment. You know, since I am still *technically* unemployed. But look at these....they're so beautiful. Grrr. I hate broke-assness.


This is actually a photo from the last time I got a haircut. Not sure how it got uploaded in this post...but I like it so it stays. Lol.

I know the title's not too creative, but I couldn't think of anything clever or witty. Anyway, here's my new do. Diana did an amazing job as usual. I don't have any pics of the back because I'm too uncoordinated to work the camera but umm...hopefully you get the idea of what it looks like.

Reason #288, 517 Why I Don't Fuck with too Many People.

First off, I will say that this week has been pretty decent so far. I feel like I got a lot accomplished, and I managed not to stay in my room 95% of the time. As always though, there is some fuckery going on that I have to address, simply because it amuses and/or irks me.

I have an interview coming up next Monday, and since I am a self-proclaimed shop-a-holic, I convince myself that this is the perfect reason to go to the mall and pick up a new outfit. Gotta dress to impress, right? (Yeah, lame I know, but it makes me feel less guilty.) Normally I would hit the mall by myself because it's in my nature to fly solo, but I decide to switch things up a bit and reach out to a couple of my friends Thursday night to find out if they would like to join me on a trip to Lenox Square Friday afternoon. My roommates are out of the question since they refuse to wake up before 4pm on a weekday, so I send a text to B and K. Just one shopping companion is all I really need, but somehow in the past few months these two have been attached at the hip and I can never invite one of them to an outing without getting a text from the other saying, "Why didn't you invite me?!" Ugh. I am really not feeling these "package deal" friends that cannot exist without the other. Get an identity already. It's emotionally draining for me, and I hate being the third wheel. But I digress.

I get a response from B first, who says she doesn't have anything to do in the afternoon and asks what time I plan on going. I tell her around 1 or 2, which she says is cool with her. Then I get a text from K. She wants to come along too, but she has errands to run beforehand so she wants to know if we can go out a bit later. I tell her that's fine; I really don't have a specific time set in stone. I text B back and tell her we'll be going out later than 2 since K wants to come along as well. Again, she says it's cool.

Fast forward to today. I get up, get dressed, and head out to the car repair shop for an oil change. I get done around 3:30 and call K to find out if she's done taking care of her business for the day. She doesn't pick up so I leave a voicemail telling her to call me and let me know when she'll be ready. Then I call B to find out if she still wants to go. She says she does, and I ask if she's dressed. She says, "Yeah, by the time you get over here I should be ready." It takes about half an hour to get from where I live to pick up my friends, so I figure that will give K time to call me back and if she doesn't, she can always come along the next time. We're just going to the mall, not like it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

As I'm getting onto the highway, K calls me back and says she should be ready around 5. I tell her that works, since the lovely Friday night Atlanta traffic will most likely result in me getting to their side of town around 5 anyway. Moments later I get a text from B. She says she doesn't know if I want to go to the mall....with her at least, because she has work at 5:45. Pause. Did I not just call you thirty minutes ago and ask if you still wanted to go with me and you said yes? Did you not know you had to work when I called you? When I said we would be going to the mall later than 1 or 2, did you think I meant 2:15? Did you think we would only be at the mall for half an hour? I'm not in the mood for the bullshit, and I respond that she could have told me that before, but it's okay. She then sends some passive-aggressive bullshit reply saying that she "thought I knew" she worked at 6 every night, and tells me to "have fun." Ignore. Yes, I generally know what time she works, but it's not like I have her work schedule tattooed on my hand. Excuse me for letting it slip my mind. I still don't understand why she didn't just tell me she couldn't go when I called her.

So now I'm on the highway in this horrendous traffic. I am nearing the exit to get to K's house when she sends me a text: "Ugh im so sleepy." Translation: "I don't feel like going. Can we go some other time?" HELL NO. If both of these bitches flaked out on me after I gave them ample time to decide if they wanted to come along, AND I just spent an hour-and-a-half in traffic for no reason, I am done, done, DONE. And I'm going to make sure I blog about the shit so I remember exactly WHY I'm done. I text her back telling her I plan on hitting her when I see her and that I'm only five minutes away. No response. I call, and ask her if she's coming or not. She says she is, and moments later I pick her up and finally head to Lenox.

Good God. All this for a simple shopping trip. Bet you I won't do that shit again.

P.S. Am I the only one who understands that it's important to use protection at ALL TIMES if you're sexually active? Unplanned pregnancies and STDs are running rampant, and people are still fucking like it's the 1950s. That's another post, but I needed to get that out.

P.S.S. Hair pics coming soon!