Tuesday, August 29, 2006


I'm stressing ya'll.

I'm trying not to. I don't want to. But I can't help it.
What was once a mild anxiety has now progressed to full-blown PANIC.

My Plan A and Plan B have officially failed, and my brain can't convince me of a good Plan C. Hell, there is no Plan C. I'm currently living each moment in hope. (which I HATE) Hope is for the hopeless, and I'm not that at all.

So how exactly is this going to work out?

How am I going to pay for my Kaplan class by the deadline? I've gotta come up with $1,500 in 3 damn days.

Initially, (this was my Plan A, by the way) I was going to bust my ass at work and have it set up just in time.
Nope. Got word yesterday morning that the arrangements were changed, so all of my comissions aren't coming until September.

So then, Plan B, I was thinking that I could do some promotion for PCC and get it that way.
Nope. Site wasn't ready in time. (It's launched now, though: www.givemepresence.com)

What to do?

I refuse to forego it altogether. I created a plan 3-4 months ago that started with this job and ended with Grad school next fall.

Yesterday in my brainstorming, I kinda shocked myself. I realized that I love to contribute to people, but I don't let people contribute to me. If it was a rational contribution, then it wouldn't bother me. But in this particular instance, I don't see much rationality at all.

If I have a need that I can't fulfill or any of my rational resources, then I'll totally deny myself (with bitter disappointment sandwiched in between airtight justification).

Because wanting or needing anything outside of my available resources is a dependency. And to be dependent is bad. It's bad because it means you're weak. You're weak because you aren't able to do for yourself, and you aren't independent. And independence is good. Because you don't need anyone to get or have what you want.

But you'll always need someone for something, right?

There's evidence for that everywhere. Business, commerce, family, etc. No (wo)man is an island, right? Hate it or love it, people need people.

So I guess I should get rid of the guilt, huh? Erase the morality of it and focus on the bottom line.

Instead of 1+2=3

create X+Y=3

There's more room for things to pop off if I'm not so hung up on the methodology. Focusing on the end goal gives possibility a lot more room to do it's thing. Possibility says "X" and "Y" can be negative or positive numbers/experiences. And even though they are both variables the outcome is fixed.


I'm letting go of "1" and "2".

I'm going to create possibilites of "X" and "Y" to have my need fulfilled. I have to be open to "X" or "Y" possibly being people that I would never talk about stuff like this to, or means that I never knew existed.

My attitude sucks.

As soon as I said that, my pride curled into the fetal position and said "Nuh Unh!"


Back at square one:o\

Monday, August 21, 2006

Enjoi Yo' Selves!

Upstaged once again. See how Life works?

So in a conversation with someone this weekend, the age of E-Rants and Insights came up.

He asked. I couldn't answer. So I researched.

Guess what I found out?

WE'RE ONE YEAR OLD!!! (Woo hoo!!)

IT'S A CELEBRATION %#)(*)$#!!!!
Enjoi Yo' Selves! (LOL)

Once I realized this, Super Pimp (my cell phone) was itching to get a pic of a grocery cake to post here, but I told him no. I reassured him that we could find a much nicer cake on Google and then he finally simmered down. He gets waaaay too excited sometimes, you know?

So here we are.

A whole year of ramblings and I haven't lost any friends as a result of it:o) As a matter of fact, I think I've actually gained from this thing. Conversations with a lot ya'll have gone beyond surface crap and we seem to have a segway to genuinely connect now. Another benefit to doing this is that I actually feel like less of an oddball. I don't feel like "I'm the only one". I feel understood (for the most part) and that's a very good feeling to realize that my small pool of perceived relatability is more like a nice lake.

We've even grown from e-mails to blogs. And not one blog but TWO. (Hot stuff! Yeah!)

So thanks.

A lot:o)

In honor of today's monumental event I figured that I'd re-post the very first E-Rant and Insight email. That's right. Old school (lol).

Later homies!

Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2005 20:06:23 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: E-RANTS AND INSIGHTS: "To Have and To Hold"
To: dontgetmad@ifitapplies.com

DISCLAIMER:This is an email series I'm going to start doing whenever I get in one of those "reflective" moods. I'll continue to name them "E-Rants and Insights" in case you are not a fan of it and can delete at will. Then again, you could be wonderful and just tell me to leave you off the list:o) This is my attempt to connect with you because we probably haven't talked in some time. Yeah, it might be a tad impersonal, but I don't see you picking up a phone either. Enjoi!

So I'm entering that phase of life that has been lightly referenced since my sophomore year in college. The time where all of your friends, homies, co-workers and associates start dropping like flies-- everybody's getting married. Thus far, I've noticed 3 re-occurring attitudes within this new experience.

"LOOK! I'S MARRIED NOW!"- Out of all of the types, this one by far is probably the most annoying. They are the women that look at marriage as a red-letter sorority. As if it bears the same prestige as PhD degree. Look, being married doesn't make you wonderful. It makes you married.

"YEAH...WE'RE GETTING MARRIED"- You're lucky to hear about the engagement from this one. She isn't embarrassed about it but she's been with the guy for so long, she'd rather not amuse you by pretending to be surprised.

"GIRL, HE BETTA HAVE!"- This one is the relationship's trooper. She's put up with his crap all in the name of love. All she's demanding is a reward: his trifling ass for eternity.

Make no mistake, I'm not against marriage. I'm not "hating" either (for those of you who still use this word seriously, please understand that it's over-usage has deemed it MEANINGLESS as of 2003).

Just an observation:o)

Monday, August 14, 2006


This Mac is whack.

Not only does it prohibit me from tricking out my posts with colored fonts, bolded, underlined, and italicized wording, and font size variation, BUT...

(lol....didn't think I had room for a 'but', huh?)


I can't use this crap well. So maybe the Mac isn't whack, but I'm just whack on a Mac?

The jury's still out.

So anyhoo, unless Life decides to upstage my plans, my next post will probably be about my neighborhood. I've been seeing a whole bunch of WTFs, but I was lacking that ONE occurance that would compel me to let ya'll know what's up.

Well Yesterday gave me that. One word: llamas.

Once I find a beginning and middle, I guarantee you will join me in a communal WTF and understand the land that I call my neighborhood.

In other news...

I'd like to make a motion.

I motion that by the year 2010, we bend the gender rules...just a bit.

I motion that all flat-chested women be granted the same public topless rights as men.

After all...

at the end of the day, it's just nipples.

Perhaps it's the suggestion of what's SUPPOSED to be there that makes it inappropriate?

Like how its deemed rude to stare at albino people. The implication of pigmentation messes with you right? But after a second or two, you regain your focus and keep it moving.

Men get to go topless.

So why shouldn't flat-chested women get the same privileges? Okay, so dudes with man-boobs usually don't go topless (unless they're rich and it's officially YOUR problem).

Taking that into consideration, and to make things fair...

I say that top-heavy chicks and men with man-boobs should follow the same rules of cleavage management. Everyone else should be exempt.

Just a thought.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

**UPDATE** (Nothing Lasts Forever)

HE'S ALIVE!!!!!!!!!

I'm late in telling you this, but that's how it beez sometimes when you don't have the internet at home yet. So yes, my iPod is back home resting and enjoing life once again. I'd like to thank everyone for the kind text messages of encouragement, E&I posts of suggestions, e-mails & calls of "get over it", and even e-cards like this (which I LOVED by the way!):

*sigh* You all are so great:o)


Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Nothing Lasts Forever

I had something else that I was going to share, but tragedy struck and I'm moved to speak on the matter.

As of last night, at exactly 10:15 pm, my iPod went into a coma. I tried to remain positive through a troubled slumber in hopes that morning would bring good news. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

The condition is terminal, and pending upon his condition when I get home from work, we might be talking burial arrangements.

Yes, I know it’s a grim way to think on Tuesday, but that's Life for you. One moment, you're enjoing your music and decide to give your freshly shampooed hair a quick shake before you start your grooming. The next, you are reminded of your iPod's mortality.

I never thought things would end this way.

Forgive me if I get emotional, but this iPod meant a lot to me. It was a good iPod. It taught me the wonders of iTunes. It got me through many workouts that I didn't want to finish or start. It protected me from conversation with people when I was in a funk. It got me through slow workdays. It was an EXCELLENT shopping companion-- keeping my spirits up as I toiled in the grocery store or anywhere else that was deemed a necessity.

It was a tough one too. It braved a few drops and scratches. And even though in a moment of genius, I decided to clip it where the screen was against my skin during a run (my pants were loose and I feared I would drop it again), it developed a form of Turrets from my sweat.

I admired its courageousness.

And now, it might be time to say good-bye. If only I had learned what the most played song on it was. I would have something meaningful to play at the service.

Oh well.

For those in the area, I will host a Wake service (aka body viewing) from 7:15 pm- 7:18 pm.

The burial service should take place around 7:21 pm...

or until everyone has found the strength to leave.

**I'll post pictures tomorrow

Thursday, August 03, 2006

The Teena Spirit

In the moments when my reflection seriously offends me, I have a secret weapon. It's during these times when I look like shit (and I’m well-aware of it) that I play Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxey Lady”, on volume 8, shaken---not stirred.

That song is like a bomb outfit. It just makes me feel fly, although the mirror is like “Nuh unh! Dude is straight up LYING to you!”

Speaking of songs of flyness, please tell me why I just heard yesterday that Teena Marie is going to be at the Flashback Festival this year??? Now I don’t believe that I’ve disclosed my Teena Marie thing to you all, so let me take a moment to do so.

I LOSE MY DAMN MIND! I don’t know what that’s about because I wouldn’t even list her as one of my top 25 artists of all-time. But whenever I hear “Dear Lover”, “Fire and Desire”, “I Need Your Loving”, “Young Love”, “Déjà vu”, “Lovergirl”, “If I Were a Bell”, and “Portuguese Love” I’m almost entranced. Now I’m loud anyway, but I feel like you don’t do her songs justice without belting out every note. And with my vocal talents, it sounds more like yelling but I’m PASSIONATE about that isht! I will break those songs DOWN, you hear me? Down where it can’t be broken anymore. And yes, after at least a good 100 listens, I’ll still fukk up the lyrics but that’s my handicap---I'm working on that. Also, I don’t listen to her in the car unless I’m super-familiar with the road. I have a tendency to close my eyes when I start to feel it. Not a good idea for driving, wouldn’t you agree?

I’m still trying to understand why I do that Fantasia-type hollering with Teena. Perhaps its because she's such an unorthodox vocalist. She does this slight yelp thing that's fun to imitate. And the chick just sounds sincere, you know? Like she really MEANS what she's singing. I’d love to go to the concert but I don’t see how. No one I know would set themselves up for such embarrassment. And I don’t want to scare any of the guys in my dating circle (should I catch the Teena spirit). Cuz the last thing I wanna do is hurt somebody by kicking my shoes off (ala Patti LaBelle) from my moment.


I should just go by myself.

But I might get arrested. Or hospitalized.


I’ll just listen to her on iTunes.

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