ABCs of me..

Age: 24

Bed Size: Queen

Chore You Hate: cleaning the bathroom, folding/putting away laundry

Dogs: should not be allowed to sleep in the bed with humans

Essential start of your day: One-on-one commune with the skies and the earth

Favorite color: Pink

Gold or silver: Gold

Height: 5’2 1/2

Instruments I play: None

Job title: Smart girl who needs to get the hell out before the beast brings her down

Kids: one son

Lives: Nassau County, long island

Mom’s name: Tracey

Nickname: Pinks and other variations of it are most common

Overnight hospital stays: Childbirth

Pet peeve: Non-aggressive drivers, talking with your mouth full of food/smacking loudly, grammar abusers

Quote from a movie: “Did I ever ask you for anything? Did-i-EVER-ASK-YOU-FOR-ANYTHING?! I never asked you for nothing, not even your sorry ass hand in marriage!”

Right or left handed: Right

Siblings: 1 Brother

Time you wake up: 4:30-7 am

Underwear: Boy shorts!

Vegetables you dislike: Beets

What makes you run late: sleeping, showering, brushing my son’s teeth

X-rays you’ve had done: Teeth, chest

Yummy food you make: turkey meatballs

Zoo animal: The ones that stay in their cage

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To Rick

I never got the chance to thank you for bringing me back to life
For setting fire to the rain
The embers that danced in the wind never made their way back to you
And for that I am grateful
With the sun behind your crown you saw me
Love touched my shoulder and said wake up
We stood at the water’s edge and
As the waves held our feet together
It was written

And now here we lay
With ivory sheets binding these same feet
the touch that was at first friendly but still polite
is now confident in its grasp, looking for flesh that you now call yours
these pillows hold our locks of hair and secrets
smelling like us in the morning

Us used to smell like the sweet stickiness still lingering
Between my thighs as I cooked you breakfast
Each slice of bread toasted to my complexion
So you could continue eating me even into the day
Smelled like your cologne nestled in my neck and behind my ears
Making me blush at work
Remembering each wave we rode in the twilight madness
Each time you hit that spot that paralyzes my right big toe
Making it bow to your mercy
Cause you just got it like that
We used to smell like
Dove soap and showers that were more for kissing than washing

I never got to thank you for giving me this gift of life
This ball of fire with your toes and my curls
And the wisdom of the ancestors bubbling on his lips
For these precious moments that may never make their way into a scrapbook
But live here in his socks that end up in our bed
In the pen marks on our sheets
That are wet with strawberry milk,
Not last night’s passion
In the kisses we steal when he isn’t looking
And the way you remember me
When all we had was time

As many of them as I know,
Sometimes the right words still escape me
So I spread my gratitude over sandwiches
And pour my humility in your orange juice
Handing you our futures in a brown paper bag
Every day in the pitch black cool of 5am

Comfort

they touch
and laugh and grasp and tickle and
touch again
like ants marching up the side of a fence in summer
his hands mark every curve and line on her leg
as toes get kissed, teased, told to wait their turn
each gets wrapped with the warm comfort of a tongue that just left an ear lobe damp and waiting
tightened calf muscles are mountains for his lips to climb, sure and steady as Monday morning traffic
the pulsing gets deeper as he moves closer
knees come together to hide her excitement and spread again with the gentle nudge of pointer and middle
fingers dance and skip over the soft cushion that stayed after the baby left, and remind her he still finds her irresistible

a forearm then an elbow flash across her breasts as his fingers find their way to her mouth, sticky and covered in her early wanting sweetness
he always shares his meals with her, and this one is no different

To be continued…or maybe not.

NO, not this one. The OTHER aisle.

One thing about me is that I notice a lot of details about things I find interesting. If I’m in a store and I find something I like, I know how to look for it online (a lot of times those prices are cheaper) because I remember the fabric, color, style, stitching etc…I also like to people-watch and I notice little quirks about people that others may not. As I move around this earth, I observe and ponder, and here are some of the things my brain has come up with recently:

–exactly WHY doesn’t this 6’2 woman know that it is NOT okay for her size 12 feet to be hanging off the front of those damn sandals? I guess it must be pretty hard for her to find clothing, bc it’s sometimes hard for me to find stuff and my biggest problem is that my ancestors had fat asses, and so do I. This woman has a large behind and big feet and is tall, so I know she struggles with having options, but the way she comes out her house sometimes is so not fair. Her toes are clinging to dear life on the edge of those wedges, creating lines on the carpet as they drag on the ground behind her like someone just vacuumed. That lop-sided wig with the highlights that don’t match her skin complexion is laughable at best, and will become tragic once it’s been around for the next 4 months until she takes it off. I’m sure she’s older than 30, so the jeans with sparkly butterflies up and down the legs are a few years too late. Somebody bring a miracle onto this child!

– I want one of you people with “swag” to tell me why it’s OK for fools to wear skinny jeans so tight we can see when they fart to still be sagging those shits and showing us their boxers..Do you want yeast infections or to be gangsta? Make up your mind

-As someone whose stomach stopped being flat years ago, I am the last person to tell somebody they need to lose weight. I am, however, the one to say that you look a damn fool with those too-small jeans on. Ole girl looked like the jeans were trying to bite her back, they were cutting her skin so much..I think the warmth created between her ass crack and the denim could’ve been used to create glass.

-for the LIFE of me I cannot understand how people don’t smell themselves as the day progresses. I had to create a shortcut around my desk to walk to the water cooler because I couldn’t stand to go by this fool who smells like a bag of horse shit, onions, and broken dreams. It was 104 degrees last week and miserable, yet homie had on a long-sleeve shirt, tie and track jacket. What the hell are you doing wearing a track jacket in 104 degrees? i swear every time I even had to walk over there I would get pissed off.

-Is it me or is wearing natural hair starting to be a fad? I know some women genuinely want to reduce the cycle that made their hair unhealthy and overprocessed, but some chicks are using this to “find themselves” and adopt whole new lifestyles. Like if you were getting perms, eating pork, sucking/fucking all crazy, smoking weed and drinking before, I DONT BELIEVE YOU now that you’re a saved vegetarian who prays to rocks and vows to be celibate the rest of your life. If you don’t want to relax your hair, then FINE. I’m glad you love your naps. However, don’t think you can do a big chop, slap some conditioner in your shit and not comb it for 3 months, then tell me you’ve “gone natural.” siddown.

Thoughts between the thighs

As I sit here with my belly full of Kit Kat and water, anticipating/dreading this drive home, this yellow string of misogyny up my ass commonly referred to as a thong is reminding me that I am a woman, a sexy one with a little too much cushion in some areas, but just enough for he who gets all he needs from it and then some. Some days I forget that I am more than a pair of hands to pick the little one up out of his crib in the morning, more than those same hands that cut carrots and chicken legs, wash dishes in the evening, and caress my lover to sleep in the evening.

So although it’s a little too hot and I want to step out of this restricting piece of lace, I’ll keep it on to make myself remember the lusciousness.

Day 1 of the Blog Challenge – How Your Day Was

My day began with the news of Casey Anthony’s impending sentence and Mekhi screaming NO that he didn’t want to brush his teeth. For some reason, he has no problem when his father brushes his teeth, but with me he clenches down and bites on the bristles, sucking all the toothpaste off before I can get a good scrubbing. I’ve given up on trying to figure out why this kid does certain things, because he is just quirky and I like it that way. Work seemed like it went by pretty quickly, mostly because I was mentally checked out. My mind was still on this weekend and the fact that I need more weekends like it in my life. Not necessarily being away, but just doing things that felt good and indulgent and not worrying about what needed to be paid when to whom. Of course, now my bank account is looking at me like I’m stupid and I have to do some damage control, but whatever – “you only live once.”

30-Day Blog Challenge

In an effort to make myself more consistent with my blog writing, I’m taking up this 30-day challenge. Participate if you wish!

Day 1 – A photo of yourself and a description of how your day was.
Day 2 – A photo of something you ate today.
Day 3 – Your idea of the perfect first date.
Day 4 – Your favorite photograph of your best friend.
Day 5 – A photo of yourself two years ago.
Day 6 – A photo of an animal you’d love to keep as a pet.
Day 7 – Your dream wedding.
Day 8 – A song to match your mood.
Day 9 – A photo of the item you last purchased.
Day 10 – A photo of your favorite place to eat.
Day 11 – What’s in your makeup bag?
Day 12 – A photograph of the town you live in.
Day 13 – Your favorite musician and why?
Day 14 – A TV show you’re currently addicted to.
Day 15 – Something you don’t leave the house without.
Day 16 – Your celebrity crush.
Day 17 – A photo of you and your family.
Day 18 – Something you crave a lot.
Day 19 – Another picture of yourself.
Day 20 – The meaning behind your blog name.
Day 21 – A photo of something that makes you happy.
Day 22 – A letter to someone who has hurt you recently. A letter to someone who broke my heart.
Day 23 – 15 facts about you.
Day 24 – A photo of something that means a lot to you.
Day 25 – What’s in your purse?
Day 26 – A photo of somewhere you’ve been to.
Day 27 – A picture of you last year and now and how have you changed since then?
Day 28 – Your favorite movie.
Day 29 – Something you could never get tired of doing.
Day 30 – A photograph of youself today + three good things that have happened in the past 30 days.

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