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On bubble baths, puppies and itchy skin…

August 27, 2010

I apologize for lacking the creativity to come up with a real title. And I apologize in advance for the upcoming typos…I’m not proofreading this….I refuse.

Start judging me now.

I’m taking a bubble bath. Yes, it’s true I’m currently luxuriating in a bath tub filled with this cheap ass bubble bath I scored from my mom’s house. I literally had to pour half of the 25 fl oz container into the tub to get the five bubbles I see floating around in here. And it makes me itch. This is my second time using it, yes the bottle is gone now…your math is correct. The first time I thought I was going to scratch my skin off, but even itching did not stop me from enjoying my time in the water. Itching didn’t stop me then and it won’t stop me today.

While describing my bubble bath routine to a friend, I realized that I may have issues. I grab my laptop (because if I’m away from it, I’ll miss something exciting), carefully wipe off the sink to ensure that there’s no water or leftover toothpaste or random man hairs hanging out (yes love, it is I who wipes the hairs away that you leave dancing on the sink after you shave, it’s not the magic cleaning fairies). I check the faucet to make sure there’s no water coming out. Then, I ever so gently sit my laptop on the edge of the sink. I run my water….all hot water. Two birds…one stone…gotta release the toxins. Then I find Winston, who is usually chilling in the office, laying on the bottom shelf of the bookcase all snuggled on a toy. I tell him “bathroom” he runs in and curls up on the floor. I grab his water bowl, I grab a treat (sometimes) and at least one toy. You see, there’s something wrong about locking my darling puppy out of the bathroom if he and I are the only two home. I feel bad and start thinking he must be lonely out there without me. So I let him in and lock the door behind us.

Yes I shut and lock the door for bubble baths because I don’t need HIM* coming in the house, realizing I’m in the bath tub and then saying, “Ohhhh look at’re naked” and then proceeding to violate my body while I’m trying to enjoy the water without being fondled.

Anyway, he’s such a good puppy…he just cuddles on the floor and sleeps or he’ll squeak his toy about for a little. Today though, he decided that it’d be a good idea to stand on his back legs and put his paws up on the side of the tub. He knows better that to be a disturbance while I’m luxuriating, so I’m not entirely sure what got into him.

*him = the honey


Blog challenge?

August 1, 2010

I suck. I signed up for a blog challenge for august to help me get my business blog moving and of course it’s august 1st, almost august 2nd and I haven’t blogged. I do have a list of topics…they’re even broken down into subcategories. I mean that shows you how much I really want to do this.

I have big hopes to be able to blog for both sites, but we both already know how that’s gonna end. I need more time, lots and lots of time. Don’t we all.


Wells run deeper…

July 11, 2010

It’s weird, yet refreshing to sit at the computer and start writing without a clear direction, other than the fact you know by the middle of the post (or the by the end of the first run-on sentence) your face will be drenched in tears.

Last night, I spent enjoyed a couple glasses of wine, drank them quickly to catch that la la land feeling drunk feeling cheap wine gives you when consumed in just the right quantity and at just the right frequency. When I drink, it’s the only time I really allow myself to feel a little out of control. It’s a great release…on occasion because quite frankly, who needs to feel all free and wild all the time.

I don’t know if it was the wine, the not getting held after sex or the brewing, {potentially irrational} suspicions in my mind that led me to sit on the toilet with my face in palms…tissue in hand….tears in lap. I mean my lap was drenched. I rarely used the tissue to wipe a thing…I just had it for safe keeping or something. I cried for about an hour, washed my face and came back to bed sure that I was done with the water works. I prefer my crying alone where there’s no one to say “are you ok?” or offer me tissue or try to hold me. But I climbed back into bed and wouldn’t you know…those little bastard tears came back and in full effect. I mean I was sniffling like someone stole Winston.

And he of course realized I was crying and asked why. It’s never really easy to communicate my feelings when I have snot running down the front of my face. I just don’t really feel in position to have a conversation….like with a real person. I feel too vulnerable to talk. He instantly blamed himself for my tears and of course, I said no. And I think he believed me, or at least he knows me well enough to just leave it alone.

:: enter tears ::

It wasn’t the non-holding. Frankly, he holds me too tightly some nights and I squirm away. I love that he holds me, most often without me having to ask. But I’m emotionally needy lately and I’m not so sure he’s picking up on it. Yes, I expect him to say “Oh, she seems rather emotionally needy lately.” And then I want him to pull a rabbit out of his fitted hat or do some circus trick to make me feel emotionally stable again. He’s part of the reason my chi is rocking and rolling. And I still haven’t bled. Yes, my period has not made an appearance since April. My moods are all over the place. I cry for no reason. My breasts hurt. My appetite is a fucking mess. I mean one night I ordered buffalo wings at 10 pm. That’s not normal for me. It was a week night. I’ve been told by friends to pee on a stick, but I know it’s not that. I had this problem before….months and months after coming off birth control. That’s why I’m not on birth control now…we believe in the power of latex. I mean there’s a whole lot of praying on my part..because things happen…but I call myself doing my body a favor (well, my doctor made me) sans le birth control only for it to brutally stab me in the back. How dare my period just randomly decide not to show up? That’s stank. I think it has something to do with me saying I don’t want kids…so it’s all…oh I’ll fix you.

And now I’m off to make chicken tartlets, chicken piccata and some type of yummy noodles.



June 28, 2010

I set a very normal goal today. Get client work done by 2 pm. Yes, I did it!

My other goals were to:

– Fix my LinkedIn page (I decided against this….I’m not really all that into LinkedIn…so instead, I set up a Facebook page for my biz). It’s bare, once it’s not….I’ll share it.

– Come up with 3 ways to market the biz and do them today (well one way was set myself up on a social network, second pitch to a potential client and the third was so come up with topics for my new blog (i’ll explain) It’s on 632….I’ll be done these things by the end of the night.

– Cook dinner. Thank everything holy for this lovely crockpot. BBQ chicken, mac and cheese, string beans and stuffing. But I would like to have icecream please.

Slim Fingers

June 19, 2010

The honey and I were working out together after work for a bit…fell off, but we’re gonna start again soon. As a result, my rings have started to slide off of my fingers. It’s tres annoying. I mean as I’m typing right now….and they are just jingling about, so I think I lost inches…in my fingers. How grand is that? If only the weight loss would slim this waist or these arms….we’d be getting somewhere. I want Shelly O. arms (that’s Michelle Obama).

Want to meet hot girls? (Promise this isn’t spam)

June 19, 2010

I couldn’t resist that title. If you’re a reader and you’re in the Maryland/DC/VA area or if you just feel like driving to Maryland to see me…I thought I’d tell you about this:

Cupcakes, Cocktails & Connections – An Uberly Fabulous Networking Soiree – August 14th (I will be performing my debut single, “Put a Business Card On It”)

Ladies only networking event…it’s going to be the very best thing ever.

Interested? Leave a comment and I’ll scoop up your email address and give you more details, ok? I’ll post the formal invite a bit later. Hmmm ….maybe we could do a virtual networking event, too. I shall look into that.

Formspring, I love you…

June 13, 2010

I’m not really all that good at answering questions, so starting a Fornspring account is the last thing on my mind. I mean I’d be replying to people with stankness like, “and why do you need to know that?” or “fool, do I know you?” However, I do enjoy the Formspring accounts of Demetria Lucas, Essence relationship editor and blogger extraordinaire of A Belle in Brooklyn and the fabulous writer Aliya S. King (hey, I sent you an email about my other blog, did you get it? I know you’re real busy promoting Platinum: A Novel and all…and I know you’re working on that new Timbaland project, no pressure.) You ladies are amazing and constant motivating force within my life…should you ever feel the need to wonder why….well, it’s because your writing is so honest and you give so much of yourselves to people you don’t know. (and part of that was an Aaliyah line, who caught that?)

I imagine that these ladies have their names on google alerts…so “hello,” if you’re reading. I mean I can’t be the only one who has her name on google alerts, right?

Let’s press forward.

So, you all know how much I truly adore Melissa Dawn Howard aka Melissa Beck, who I affectionately refer to as, Melissa Dawn Howard Beck? She was on Real World New Orleans way back when Real World was still cool. Anyways, she’s been blogging since 1912 and for some reason her words and experiences speak to me…so she’s like a big sister in my head.

I emailed her once. No reply. I tweeted her once. No reply. But I did not get stank. I knew that when the heavens aligned and thought it right, my sis in my head would offer some sisterly advice and life would feel easy and breezy. She got a Formspring account. I rejoiced. I instantly knew what to ask her. You all have read my post on the old blog where I talk about the boyfriend and his music and how I’m really trying to be understanding and all that jazz. Well, things are working out much better in my head. I mean much better…well, probably because I spend 90% of the time working now…I have less time to be thinking about stuff. But that’s neither here, nor there. So I have friends who have compared my situation with Melissa Beck’s in terms of having a significant other in the music world…doing the shows, the studio time etc. and honestly, I never paid much attention to it. I love her because of her brilliant, brutal writing…the end. But then I started pouring through old blogs and understood the comparisons. So, I saw that Formspring and I submitted this:

My bf is a musician, too. How do you handle the studio time and the touring without going crazy? Or maybe you do go crazy…

Now, please know that after the word “crazy,” I had a whole long combination of additional words to add, but Formspring gives you a limit, gotta be brief.

And she replied….to me….with this:

i am just really diplomatic about the shit. i think of it as: this is his shit. this is something he has (italics) to do. it’s like breathing, or showering. i can’t take that away from him. it would be like if he said i am not allowed to write anymore ever. i understand it as a major major major part of his life. and yes, it sucks when he’s gone for a while but he tries to be fair to me with the touring. max two weeks out on the road at a time since the baby came into the picture because i did not sign up for single motherhood. and if for some reason, new developments in the glassjaw world take him out for longer, then we have a plan in place for how that will work for me. it involves louis vuitton and cash (wink, wink) and the execution of being a stay-at-home mom. or bitch, i’m rolling with you with the baby — make room on that bus and/or get me a hotel in each city.

he would never, i am not allowed on the road with him because i “stress” him out.

me? how is that even possible? i am so low maintenance. he says he can’t be responsible for my happiness day in and day out when he’s working and preoccupied with the tour. i get that. fine. i wouldn’t want me moping around talking about “i’m bored” either. and they incessantly joke about cum so no thanks anyway.

the studio time? well, that shit is in our house. it is loud. the sessions run late. but the dudes are all very respectful and practice good manners. and they all love shalom, like a bunch. i’m not all “shhhhh, the baby’s sleeping!” we’ve kept the volume levels the same since she came home day one so she is not surprised or disturbed by loud sounds. she actually jams when he’s playing drums. she is insane.

do i go crazy? sometimes.

yesterday this fool picked my baby up at school at 5, then let her nap until 7:30 while they do whatever they’re doing down there. if you’re not a mom, let me explain that to you. a baby can’t be allowed to just sleep until 7:30, THEN wake up and have dinner, THEN be expected to take a bath and go to bed at a reasonable hour. that is cutting into my TV and luxuriating shower time. i was upset about it, but it is what it is. it helps that i really like glassjaw, the business and the music and the people. i want to see that shit come to fruition. i want to finally exhale on that tip so i don’t really trip off him that bad.

also skype and text. i believe these two technologies have the power to extend and/or save relationships.

And she reassured me that everything I have worked out in my mind over the past year or so is fine (yea, I know he and I have been together for eons…but it’s only once we moved in together i started to really think). I try to be really diplomatic about this shit, Melissa. I really do. And his friends practice the best manners and loveliness when they come over to record. And, I too, “just want to see that shit come to fruition,” if for nothing more than to see the smile on his face when it does. So if you have google alerts, thank you. If you don’t, maybe someone like Jill Zarin (my real housewives of ny watchers will get this) has a google alert for your name and will be lovely enough to pass this along to you.