hearts are stupid.

i find myself afraid to love.
terrifingly afraid.

when sweet thing left he really did a piece of work on my heart. broke it. not only my heart, but me. he broke me. broke what i thought about myself, broke who and what i wanted to be with someone. in love.
one day happy and caring for each other intensely. loving me. the next, i am no longer worth the effort, the work to be great with someone.

i am no longer the hopeless romantic i used to be. i no longer believe in fairytales. fairytales are for losers. and i am no longer a loser, i am awesomeness. if cold.

but this dude right here, he makes me want to love. his pursuing of me, makes me smile sideways, and even though i am pretty sure my insecurities are scaring him, he wants to hold my baggage and help me unpack them and that's scaring me. is there such a thing named love. do stomach butterflies really exist or are there figments of our imagination when given the drug that half closes eyes and gives the angels their angelic voices.

i'm not saying i will fall in love with dude, he doesn't even have a nickname yet...i am the queen of nicknames and he doesn't have one yet. signs of the good, the different? the lasting....? i am definitely in like with dude...but love is for losers. i mean, that's what i tell myself, because deep down i no longer believe i am worth the effort, the work to be great with someone.

but he makes me believe that i could one day...

and even though i am liking him more than a crush, it's been a little over a month since my world was shattered and the love of my life broke my heart. i no longer cry, but i do. i'm not ready to love. not ready to just be. not even ready to be touched, because my body still remembers...

my heart is no longer my own, in the midst of tears and pain i gave it back to God, vowing that any man that wants it needs to go to him (my daddy) to get it. dude makes me forget that vow, my heart wants to leap into his open hands and snuggle there.

but hearts are stupid.
i no longer will be.

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life is a movement

I'm in love.

his name is life.

he helps me to keep it moving.

I love that life doesn't wait for us. I mean if it did we would all be lazy, procrastinators. content with depending on tomorrows and laters, fat from our own existance. but life is desgined to cause movement. and we have to move along with it, well I take that back, we don't have to move with it. there are many people, you know some and I know some, at one point we ourselves were those people. the everything's ok people, the laid back people, who don’t run after busses because there will always be a next one, who don't regret going after opportunities because there will always be a next one, who jump from relationship to relationship because there are too many fish in the sea. and semen.

and so life passes by. and we are left standing still. growing older without ever having grown.

life is designed to cause movement. create movement. life is a movement.

sigh…and that is a beautiful thing. God designed life to not wait for us. to not be on hold when we are going through crap. when pain buckles our knees and threatenes to push us down and trip us up, the earth keeps rotating.

God desgined life to push us, motivate us, to inspire us to live. to not merely exist, but to live.

merely existing is boring. and then you die. and no one remembers you.

not even the square inch of life you once occupied.

life is a movement. full of jumps, leaps, runs, dancing, climbing and sliding down.

falling into crap, and getting back up. and showering in the rain that comes in the morning.

movement of muscles. smiles, claps, laughter, damn high fives, running mans and eating (I mean shoot, we gotta celebrate!)

life is a movement.

get moving or die. left standing.

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can i ask a question...

why is it that most men think just because i have big, full, amazingly gorgeous lips, that i give good head?

*blank stare*

#1 you don't know me...how shallow is your penis thinking behind that you think all girls with big lips can give good head? what if i had creepy crawlies all up in my mouth? you deserve to have them all over your sons and daughters for that stupid thinking.

#2 do you disrespect me and yourself that much that you would have someone you don't know from eve slobbering all over your jewels? aren't i a woman? aren't i the mother of nations and tribes. aren't you a king deserving of a queen? no, i guess when the mood is right, you are just another peewee brain thinking dude, searching for a lick from a peasent...i won't even say 2, i'm sure one would be sufficient enough.

#3 what if my big lips held a big secret...like a huge overbite. you must want to get chomped on.

i don't mind being complimented on my lips, granted i personally am not a huge fan of them because i think they are a tad too big, but still it is nice to hear it once in a while.
but you must be fooled into breathing to think i would be attracted to you when you come to me with 'your lips are amazing, you must give good head'

*blank stare*

i don't care if you want to think that, think whatever you want, but when it begins to slip out from between your teeth, think really hard about it because i will throw down a prayer and baptize you with my stink eye.

....i'm pretty sure this is one of those backward thinking norms like ' all mixed children/people are cute ', or ' all light skinned people are cocky ' or ' all pastors kids are freaks'

i'm pretty sure it's one of those things.
end of rant.

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first rehearsal: that's all folks.

sooo, rememeber how i was freaking out about this play i joined?
terrifed of not being funny enough?
pfff...oh please.

last night was our first rehearsal/read through, and my nerves completely got the best of me. and i officially freaked out. i talk about it not so often, but many of you know that i have a speech impediment, basically i stutter. and i hate it with all the life within me.

last night, tired, well exhausted really...hungery, frustrated, emotionally drained (and stimulated), and nervous, i was a prime candidate for 'make a fool of myself' day. minute. with all eyes staring at me, mouth open to read my line i blank. the words just would not come out. i'm sure my face was as red as ever, it felt like it was melting off my skeleton that's for damn sure..sigh. i was sooo embarrased. but it's happened to me many times before and so i should be use to it by now, but i'm not. and i probably never will be.

i had to pray. and hard. "God, please calm my nerves and help me to not look like an imcompetent idiot as i' sure everyone is thinking right now'..'she's pretty, but probably highly stupid'

i slighty recovered from death by embarassment and stumbled my way throught it.
and the worst thing was the director came and asked me 'do you stutter?'
OMG...kill me right now!!!! before or after the dunce hat is delicately placed on my head..PLEASE!

i realized last night, how weak i am when i am thrust out into the open on my own.
O_O <---deer in headlights. aka. me.

sigh...updates to follow.

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my sista b****...part one

collectively women are a hot mess. we are no better than any other people, or stereotype. we gang up on each other, immaturely and maturely pull each other's hair, steal each other's men and call each other worse names than the carriers of sperm do.

bitch. whore. slut.
what ever happened to sister?

we call ourselves names trying to erase the degradation underlying in our face.

I am the baddest bitch.
what ever happened to 'i am woman'
your God given role was not good enough for you?

wiping the spit from our lips after pronouncing the last sound, making up stupid meanings to make our given meaning more agressive. much stronger. more decieved.

bitch has evolved from the name one calls a female dog allowing any male dog to mount her in the street or behind a bush. birthing within her womb many babies that are a burden to give away or sell. drown in the river. toss away in a box. to being a slang term for complaining: griping, misery and unhappiness even if momentarily. to complimenting all those meanings into one : women who are strong- minded, assertive, and in Total Control.

decieved.
the baddest bitch.

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dead leaves falling

i think the dead leaf falling to the ground thinks many things. sadness for being forced to leave the branch it's always known, anger for not being able to slap the butts of crap happy birds leaving it's surface. happy that the crap happy bird will no longer be crapping on it's surface.

but the number one thought.
i hope i don't fall into that pile of crap.

i mean, isn't that what we all think as we are falling down. some dead and some dead like. forcibly or willing. with happiness or sadness.
i hope i don't fall into that pile of crap.

if you were a dead leaf, what would you be thinking as you were falling down dead?

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one to seven...

...things i love to see

* a babies smile
* the sun...the sight of the bright sun is soo underrated
* pda ...i just love to see people all over ach other for some reason
* young people of different backgrounds worshipping and living for God shameless
* a clean bathroom!!!!
* people tripping and falling
* the look on people's face when they feel stupid...it's a visible drop, like everything in their face goes south!

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there must be piss

if ya'll don't know by now, i am a seriously funny person. God gifted me with a wicked sense of humor and an amazing ability to tell and retell stories in a way that will have you rolling. when that gifting took place though i don't know because my mom says i wasn't always funny.

whatever.

along with a wicked sense of humor i am painfully sarcastic which is beneficial to everyone around me especially those on the recieving end. i have no boundaries and will say anything that comes to my mouth, which of course always makes me the clown everywhere i go.

the girl that says random things. the most innapropriate things at the best yet inappropriate times.

i recently got a primary role in a local stage play. a comedy. where i have to be funny on stage for a total of 3 nights. O_O...now, i'm not 100% sure i can do this, because random, brass, story telling arm flaling funny, is horribly different from comedic timing, people staring at you expecting to piss from laughing funny. soo, yeah. i'm not 100% sure i can do this. i mean i can act in my kitchen, but on stage? o_o

as much as I know it was God that placed me in this role, as it was basically written for me to play it even before i auditioned, it is an incredibly daunting task...especially since i don't act.
i am going to have to seriously depend on him to bump up the funny.

my new mission...at the end of the three nights, there must be piss.

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my week in texts

you have been poked on facebook

cuz, tell me why my workplace has a lounge but no cafeteria?

i'm afraid her mouth may swallow me

more than had fun...i loved every moment...thanks so much again...love u lots!

why is gabe (the white sax player) chest so hairy?

you have been poked on facebook

u wanna do dinner. get to talk a bit and relax...smile too.

girl just said she doesn't have an ipod..i visibally gave her the 'WTH!' look

why do you always think the worst of me?

Absolutely! R u free? would love to hear your voice.

i love you more

*not even going to respond to that rudery*

but it's 5 days old...we just threw out yor food from the retreat and you brought new food home. youre gonna waste it again.

he's a creeper...can't blame him tho, i'm all up on his shit too

it doesn't matter what we do i'm good jus trying 2chill wit u 4a while

i just found out i got a primary role in a theater play

in general i want diamond studs for my new piercing

i really need to find a new hairdresser...this girl is walking around in her socks and there is hair and dirt all up on her white socks..gag me with a spoon!

that is hilarious. i see man liking when you sit on the toilet, i'm like 'wth is up with that?' lol

i saw the cutest indian boy...he is way underage though. too bad

if i ever...just shoot me in the street

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one to seven

....things that gross me out

*bathrooms!!!!!!!!!
*seeing mens toes in sandals
*walking into a cloud of fart
*when ugly people smile, and their smile is ugly too
*camel toe
*when i pee and wipe myself and some pee gets on my hands.
*when i walk behind, beside, or in front of a female and i smell fish.

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my week in texts

i'm glad you listen to him because you are beautiful! stunning acyually...both inside and out!

i know it sounded like i was kevin costner n i was cumming 2protect u 4a second didn't i? lol!

;).....i always got you moi

that's fine, i'll pay for it...it's up to u. u call the shot. i told u i want to be the west guy. if i'm the west guy i will take care of u.

hey love. i know u're a tough cough but u don't always need to be. know i'm thinking about u alot. i love you xoxo

lol....yeah! you bite the fried dumpling and then you eat some ice cream from the bowl *gun shot*

dem is pregnant woman moves. lol

uh hmmm. i'm not going to be a prick. do you want to smile?

i think ur heart is broken not bc i left but bc ur not sure why i left which is reasonable but maybe one day when ur healed imma let you know.

ok. i was going to feed you. u wanna do something later or...? i'm here to make u smile.

....#shutup

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whores and sticky notes: the kiss back

i love that words have the ability to spark conversation. and my post 'whores and sticky notes' sparked a conversation/response from someone i love and hugely respect. renee, girl you are awesomeerr!

here is the response she dropped in my facebook inbox today and i had to post it.

Deliciously, tantalizing blog. Provoked me to write a response. Here’s what we don’t talk about, there is no excuse for whoredom. As believers, newly converted spiritualist, we’ve lost what the religious folks we’ve liberated ourselves from possess; a hard-core ethical stance. In our fear of being less “SP” (Spiritually Correct), we dare not judge, for judgment of another is a greater sin than murder, or rape, or theft right? Wrong. Judgment is a necessary evil. Judgment is needed to decipher what is right or wrong in the kingdom, it is the “sticky note” we assign to people and the manner in which we handle them that is the sin, not the identification that they may be a whore etc. etc.

With that being said, you make a valid point that not every whore (male/female) has been tickled, touched, poked or prodded DIRECTLY. What they are dealing with could very well be a generational curse. We, as human beings live by cause and effect, we don’t choose bad just because. Particularly when that bad carries so much danger, emptiness, loneliness. Living in that place, with those decisions, is a reactionary space. Even if its lonely that makes me react by choosing sex. Even if there are forces that my spiritless self doesn’t quite understand working against me, that causes me to choose reactionary sex. Owning whoredom or not makes it no less reactionary and thusly, there is a very serious root cause.

I believe people are inherently good. I don’t believe any young girl or boy unless socialized to believe differently, decides that whoredom is a good thing. Thusly, the secrecy about one’s condition comes into play. The shifting of responsibility also becomes evident. No one truly wants to own the ugly inside of them. Darkness and light cannot coincide but we try and try and try to live that duplicitous existence. Reactionary space . . .just my thoughts provoked by whores and sticky notes.

Thank you my friend for sharing your creative mind and matter. ; )

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i asked...you answered

for the past few weeks i've been asking God this question....

'God, why is it that most people come to serve you after some sort of loss, tragedy or the in the midst of pain?' because truthfully i didn't understand it. God is good, why not serve him when things are good? why go running to him when something horrible happens to you.

this question coming from my lukewarm heart. i became content in my own happiness without even realizing it. telling other people to not be happy in who or what is in their life, but to happy in God. without even seeing that was exactly where i was.

and then on tuesday, my boyfriend suddenly broke up with me.

i thought i was going to die. he was the love of my life. i loved him like i have loved no other. he was the good in my life. he was my happiness. he was the reason i smiled. he was my bliss. i thought our love would be the one that lasted forever, never getting tired to repeat the story of how we met. and he broker my heart no warning. nothing. over email. i read it at work. i thought i was going to die.

i lost all will to eat, i couldn't sleep. i cried for the whole week. made the most mistakes at work. had to take bathroom breaks every hour to go into the stall and bawl. the whole time asking God 'why?' 'why did you allow this to happen to me? he was my happiness'

and God spoke to my heart and my spirit at a young adult retreat i decided to attend last minute, because i didn't want to be cooped up in my room dealing with my pain alone.

'I am your happiness'
'I am your bliss'
'he will not love you forever, but i will'

and the process of healing began. and i understood. knowing and reciting God is good is different from knowing God as your healer, the one that loves you soo intensely with a love that doesn't relent. knowing him as the one who wakes you up is different from knowing him as the one that literally keeps you together. when you go through an experience that reveals God on a different level in your life, the relationship becomes that much stronger, that much more intense and that much more real.

yeah, my boyfriend broke up with me. so what. right? *shrugs*

through this experience i have truly felt the forever love of God like never before. i loved sweet thing with an intense love that happens once in a lifetime, and God had to take that away for me to see Him as the intense love that lasts a lifetime. we often say it, but don't understand it. God is jealous for us. not of us. for us. and when we as christians place possessions or people on the same level or above God, His intense love yearns for us even more and doesn't relent. and that was where sweet thing was 'he was my bliss. my happiness'

(many more experiences and lessons have come from this and i will be sharing.)
i have also learned to be careful what i ask, even in simple questioning, because the understanding comes at price.

this is the song that really began the healing process this weekend. i have always loved this song. but know i can say i truly know and understand this song.

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one to seven...

...random truths about moi (because i know you want to know)

* when said enough times the words 'a' and 'the' begin to make no sense to me
* i am mildly afraid of the dark
* i write worship songs that are sung by the worship team i lead
* i love to smell babies feet...only the ones that walk though
* Lord of the Rings is one of my favorite movies. of all time.
* i was told by a co-worker i should write erotic novels.
* 7 is my favorite number.

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whores and sticky notes

so, i'm fresh from watching tyler perry's 'for coloured girls'. i will not make mention of my reaction as this is not what this post is about, but i will share my thoughts on one aspect of the movie.

tanzi. a character in the movie played by thandie newton. and she played a very good whore too, very convincing, but as i was watching the movie and her character's straight, curved, narrow, long, short and stumpy path to destruction, i had an 'uhmmm moment'.

here goes....

tanzi, like many women was a whore because her father touched her. sexually molested her. so to fill her emptiness and her longing for love, to feel love which escalated into the need to feel desired, she filled her soul with meaningless sex. and i get that. sadly that happens too often. as i briefly shared before, i too was sexually touched repeatedly by a family member which caused me to now have to battle my own demons, namely being bisexuality. so i get it.

but about what the women who are whores because they want to be? no daddy fingers, no touchy babysitters, nothing like that, good home, good family, good upbringing, but they themselves have loose morals, no sense of consequence, and a MASSIVE love for sex. they choose to be in the company of dick, dick, and dick. choice by choice.
it seems like it's so easy to slap a label on everything these days...'you are, because of'...'you do, because this was done'...'it's not your fault'. and like i said, i get that. but i also get people being accountable for their actions, and choices. i get women being bold enough, and grown enough to own up to who they are without feeling compelled to be covered by a sticky note. a label.

for those suffering because of the actions and crappy decisions of others. i'm sorry, and i know there is healing. i am reaching out to God for mine.

for those looking to be covered by a sticky note so they don't have to face themselves in the mirror, and come in genuine contact with who they have chosen to be. grow up. there is no beauty and no confidence in denial. i'm not saying being a whore is right. but if you are by your decision, you should be confident enough in your decision to own up to it. people that have nothing to hide, do not hide behind meaningless labels.

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my week in texts

i just realized you said i have dumbo ears! so when i'm just 'a girl' you tell me i'm gorgeous, but when i'm your girlfriend you pick apart my body and make me feel ugly? you suck. have a goodnight

honestly don't whatever me...seriously don't ever do that

i want to name my roadrage...i think i'll name her tammy

indeed nothing in all creation will ever be able to seperate us from the love of God...

and now i'm ugly, outcasted and uncomfortable

i forgot to hang up and started having a mtv moment lol

i sinned :( .... i ate a cinnabon, and i ate it sexy :(

i just wanna wish you a great day i hope you continue to smile

so im pretty sure my boss is a schizophrenic

next time i get paid we're gonna go out and chill, you work way to hard :(

wtf?

good morning...are you bringing me a muffin?

i'm scared...of hair getting ripped off my vag

what's in his mouth? are those his teeth?

if you skype me again and its not regarding a funny video or picture..im not answering

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ok, serious question...

.....is it just me or are there some women that just always look trashy...no matter what they do, they always look like they should be walking off the set of dancehall queen rockin' the skittles weave, fresh from the daggering, or walking out of a bad, very bad trailer park. with 5 kids. hollering for jimmy james' no good behind.
O_o

there is this woman at work, no matter what she wears, no matter how she does her hair, makeup or not, she always looks trashy. and she is not the first, even brittney murphy (RIP) was affected with this ailment. i absolutely loved hated her dirty, skankalicious role in 8Mile, but i realized that even after the movie wrapped she still looked like alex...my girl was in that role for life. i don't know what it is, or where it comes from, (i secretly think it's the permanent raccoon eyes), but something has to give.

something has to give or we have to find a cure for the perma-tatty syndrome.
because i'll be damned if my daughter comes out looking like she should be on 'flavor of love'
delicious my ass.

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my week in texts

'my week in texts' i loved doing this when i first started out as the kisser, and i really want to continue the trend, but this time with a spin, every sunday i will post text messages, and emails that i have recieved the previous week, i will also be including ones that i send so you can get the full affect of the randomness.

this first week will be a culmination of a few weeks, as i have some catching up to do.
enjoy :)
                             _______________________________________

nope she's white, italian. used to work with us at the other building. has a lot of piercings, looks a bit emo

                                                            i wanted to celebrate my new job, and not being with child.

hahaha, you are the biggest crack addict at life.

no, honestly i would have thrown my panties over the phone, it was that sexy.

you have been poked on facebook.

ppl like that make me want to jump through the phone and tump them up

remember how we used to eat M&M's like chocolate whores?

there is a man named 'Fong Ka Fai'…..doesn't that sound like it could be a swear word…or some random break dancer?

                                                                       don't be too nice to me, my boyfriend won't like that.

i'm not going to stay away from you...cause I really, really like you…Is just that I won't be able to do the things I would like to do due to your warning…unless you say otherwise.

yes I can truly understand the pregnant part I must admit I did shed tears this week for our circumstance but I figure I had to be a lil tuff for us both

i'm callin ya to listen to ya sleep when i get in

so what the f*** is your problem?

                                                                                                       you have been poked on facebook.

sum of my most happiest times in life were spent within u n spent with u, just the over all vibe i had wit u or b n wit u, n i miss tht which in turn means i miss u Lamoi

umm..why does that dude giggle at his jokes? he doesn't laugh...he giggles! (flannel shirt)

                                                          LOL! the way this guy's head back folds reminds me of lard.

you have been poked on facebook.

remember a str8 shot than u can mix the cuba rum, ok

i would still like to take u for dinner. u don't have to tell him if you will get in trouble.

                                                        i called u but ur sik light skinded ass didn't answer the phone.

you have been poked on facebook.

lol. u can't kick that high...i seen dem typa boots u be rockin.

so sweet ting nah sweeten yuh up 2nite?

i won't tell him if u don't. i think we need to work this out...up to u if ur willing to explore.

                                                                                                     stop falling for the craving of grease

r u trynna replace sex for sugar?



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bawdy ambition

since i have entered the world of alcohol, i can say with a surety 2 things: one...i'm not coming back and two...i want to be a master drink mixer. when i was living pre-alcohol i was mixing 'mocktails', i even had a book on it, but i grew up and got sexy (lol). this bawdy ambition literally dropped in my head one day (probably as i was sipping my favorite drink), and with every passing day, every drink i drink, and every pretty bartender i see, i am even more convinced that this is one of my callings.




bought this today at the LCBO

also, i knew when i mixed my first drink..strawberry kiwi crystal light, vodka and a wedge of lemon. tell me that isn't bawd.

this will be easier to attain once i move into my own apartment, and i can have my liquor all about the place and not hidden in my room all about the place. i was thinking of even taking a bartending course to enhance my hidden talent (all thanx to the 'lamoi'..see above drink mixture), but in the meantime i'll continue to make trips to the LCBO, experimenting, and turning to websites dedicated to drink mixing like http://www.drinksmixer.com/

and i will make it. i will be that pretty bartender i see mixing drinks, but instead i'll be in my pencil skirt, white wifebeater and heels standing behind my counter, entertaining my friends, and wowing their tastebuds...or in a white wife beater, in bed watching dexter. either way, i will evolve from mixing 'lamoi' to mixing (insert well thought of witty name here).



i'm well on my way!

btw, my favorite drink is orange cranberry and rum.

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oops, i sweated

what is it about deep voiced men that get's us women...well, sweaty?

yesterday i was at work and a broker rang my phone (shout out to james)..and let me tell you his voice was like chocolate. my man started having full conversation with me like i knew him and for a minute i thought i did, asking me what plans do i have this weekend and such...why was all i could do giggle? my grown ass woman self was giggling on the phone, and he knew at that moment that he caught me up. it was either the giggling or the shameless 'your voice is AMAZING' that gave me away. but damn him he knew...and then he proceeded to lie to me.

smh....why men, why can't you be different for ONCE?!

obviously i didn't book the lie because his sexy voice had me in a trance, i did however declare to my boss that he had me flustered on the phone. and now i have to call his barry white ass back and call him a liar.

so, i ask again, what is it about deep voiced men that get us...well, sweaty? i've never been one to have a voice fetish. sweet thing's voice is not deep, BK's voice wasn't deep. smooth's voice was kinda deep though, but then he was kinda chocloate.

i can tell you this much, broker james's voice reverbarated down in the depth of my kitty. i mean she was vibrating in my office chair. i'm thus convinced that is why deep voiced men get us....well, sweaty.

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contradiction adoration

ex. the kisser. recovering ms.rubies. i am such a contradiction.

on one hand, my mouth is foul, i think about sex alot, i talk about it even more, my humor is raunchy and morbid, and i have an attitude problem. on the other hand i am a saint, the daughter of a pastor struggling to build and maintain a relationship with God, lover of people, giver of great advice, all around good girl.

and so i had to create a place where i could be both, and be me in all my imperfect beauty, my thoughts, my opinons, and my attitude splattered over lip prints because i am strangely obsessed with lip prints (and kissing). now that i think about it, maybe i shouldn't love the contradicton that is me, that could be part of my struggle...but the little high pitched low sexy voice in my head questions me 'why can't you just be both?'

i guess we'll just have to see won't we. if i can be both. if naughty and nice can live together in perfect harmony, i mean doesn't everyone have a little naughty in them? maybe the question will evolve into 'how much naughty is too much naughty' because no one will ever tell you that you can be too nice.

the kisser meet ms.rubies.

oh! and by the way, i never write with capitals if i don't have to, that's part of my rebellion.

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