Missing my blogging

There will be a time, I guarantee, where I will be able to blog freely. Of course, this would require that I am not a RA... so..... yeah. Boo.

Standing Ground

Blah. There comes a time when you live in a little 4 by 4 dorm room and you realize you can't find anything important because your floor is covered with clothes, bottles of water, important papers, etc. that you might want to vacuum.

Time for another tale.


If you look over to the right you'll see that I added two new people: one is my mentor, who we'll call Workaholic, and my newest good friend who shall be named Twin (we're so much alike its scary). Just so that you folks will know what the hell I'm babbling about.


Once upon a time I had a vision--to have a small, quaint book club on campus for students, so that they could relax (you know, I'm always thinking about other people....). I didn't know shit about starting an org and the ends and outs with dealing with the corrupt student gov, so Workaholic stepped in and took me under my wing. Under her tutelage, I learned how to apply for grants, she secured me an office, etc. And of course, I named her vice president of my org.

After that, I set about applying for small grants, making plans to advertise, creating a website for the org, getting furniture for our office (she's sharing the office as well), picking up keys, reminding her of deadlines, etc.

Last week, before I left for my vacay, we sat down and decided that we would go up to the student government for money to go to the National Black Book Conference in Atlanta next fall. She gave me examples of what to fill out, pretty much handed me all the information and told me to make sure to get in by the deadline, Friday. My book club is multicultural. And after calculating the costs for the trip, $3000, I rethought asking for the money and decided (without letting her know) that I would wait until next year when we had actual members (I haven't even had the chance or funds to start advertising) to find a book club conference that wasn't limited to just one genre of books and try to attend that.

Today she sent me an IM asking if I turned in the papers, and I told her no, and explained why. Understandably, she was pissed and in a roundabout way accused me of being scared to ask for funding which was coming from our money anyway. I apologized and promised to find a more suitable conference. She kind of just stopped IMing me, her own way of ignoring me. At first, I felt guilty but justified. I mean, hell, I am the President of the org. Then after talking the situation over with Mom I felt guilty and immature. However, I'm definitely NOT looking forward to apologizing to her in her face. To be completely honest, she kind of scares me.

Anywho, Till next time...

Updates?

Isn't there a fine line between being an artist and being an idiot? There's gotta be. Or else, I'm screwed.

It's been awhile, folks. And as usual, I have a reason for it--not knowing what I can and can't write about. My last post was before I found out about FERPA (The Family Education Rights and Privacy Act) and how my bosses surf the net for incriminating blogs. I can't even pretend that I'm bad ass--that scared the shit out of me. How the hell was I going to blog when my life was consumed by idiot residents and their shenanigans?


From my last post until about last week, I was a RA. Not a person, a human being with feelings, emotions, a need to vent--I was (and still am) owned by University Housing. When they tell you that being a RA is basically being in a fishbowl, they are NOT kidding. Everywhere I went, residents were watching, waiting for me to fuck up, etc. My bosses were everywhere because they live in the dorms, too. And apparently, there is a secret world in RA land where RAs and security date each other, become bestest friends, worst enemies, and are practically each others lives for the next 1-3 years. I don't know about y'all, but I was NOT having that shit.


No, I didn't quit. But I did have to accomplish putting the fear of God into the hearts of my rezs (residents), programming for the little fuckers, attending shit loads of meetings, classes, filming, battling gossip that was stemming from some of my insecure coworkers, dealing with not having enough time suddenly for my family, getting shit together for my book club (a new organization here on campus) that I'm the president of, and dealing with Boyfriend. Needless to say I didn't have time to breathe, sleep and sometimes, bathe.


But, I press on. I was in hyperdrive for three months, and then Boyfriend bought me a ticket to come see him for his homecoming. I went, did the usual, and came back. Now I'm trying to work myself back up in a frenzy again so that I can finish out the next 6 weeks. And it ain't happenin. I came back today to find my decorations that I put up ripped down, along with fliers and a bulletin board I worked semi-hard on. The little shit eaters had moved furniture, and probably partied it up once they realized I wasn't around. I was pissed off for about 15 minutes and then I went into a depressed mode. I didn't realize post-vacay made you so damned lazy.


So, what do you do when you're in charge of 72 asswhipes and their social development skills, a blossoming student org, filming for portfolio and editing another for the same purpose (which are both due the 2nd week of December), working on a required conceptual studies project (don't ask....), and trying to maintain your relationships with the people you love?


You ditch two classes, say "Fuck it" for your To Do list for today, crawl into bed, eat a bag of M&Ms, Funyuns, and slurp down tons of soda.

Trust me, I have more to talk about: my mentor/vice prez of my org is pissed off at me right now, the Saved Sinners have been in trouble with the law, Boyfriend and I are forever dealing with issues, and I'm constipated. Yup.

Till next time...

Life as a Resident Assistant...

....now means I have no life at all.


That's right.

I'm back. Sorry it took me so long guys, but working two jobs this summer took a lot of out of me (I think it was because of all the emotional situations) and I really wasn't in the mood to come home and recap my sucky life via blogging. No offense.

Anyway, there haven't really been to many things going on to do an extensive update, but I WILL say that Boyfriend and I are still together, I'm back at school now (2 weeks early) and as the students come filing in so will more stories. After all, this is called "The Sophomore Chronicles". It's kind of based around school.

But picking back up on the title....yep, I'm a Resident Assistant. Free room and board, a monthly stipend and a shit load of stress. I get to clean up after folks who are experiencing all the wonderful aspects of living away from Mommy and Daddy, scold those who break Housing policies, become a social leper in my current (small) circle of friends because I'm now the enforcer, and pretty much hate life in general. I know I sound depressing, but that's because the situation is depressing. And the only reason I'm doing it is because I'm dead broke and saving $8000 on student loans this year seemed like a grand idea.

My staff (the people who are RAs with me) are pretty cool (so far) but I have a feeling that as time goes on the drama will definitely rear its ugly head. It always does. Which is good for you. Because then you'll have something entertaining to read while you're at work.

I played some volleyball today with my staff just to show that I was part of the "team" and it was actually pretty fun. Huh. I'm definitely NOT the sports type at all, but I was able to hit the ball a couple of times. And I got to bat my eyelashes at some of my cute coworkers.

One thing that is going to be interesting to blog about is my female coworkers and their obsession with weight. Going to breakfast, lunch or anything that even remotely has to do with the digestive system is great--its like watching the Discovery Channel. They are COMPLETELY scared of a pound or two, which in my humble opinion, would do them good. They always stare at me when I eat, which is an odd combination of amusing and insulting. Thank God Boyfriend prefers a little meat on me or else I'd probably join the ranks of the bulimic.

Alright, no point in wasting a good post rattling on about what I'll be posting about in the future, I just wanted to stop in and let everyone know I'm not dead. Or in jail.


Till next time...

The fight, pt. 2

Okay, click here for the link to pt. 1.


Note: Since it's been so long, I'm just going to post the Cliffnotes version...


I don't know how I finished work. I swam through it miraculously. When I made it home, I got myself together, and called him. Because it's been a while, I don't remember what our conversation went like, but the general idea idea was that he was frustrated because I was treating him like a son, and not like a boyfriend, and of course, I was frustrated because I felt like I couldn't trust him with ANYTHING that had a smidge of responsibility! We hashed it out for a while before coming to a truce:


Me: Do you think you could possibly be a little more responsible next time?

Boyfriend: Yeah, if you think you could not become my mother all the time....

Me (hesitantly): Yeah...I guess.....


Okay, okay, no one ever said I wasn't a control freak. I'm the eldest of three kids in my family and I always had a shit load of responsibility. Anyway, we got off the phone and I ran to my closest advisor when Boyfriend was acting an ass....my mother. Surprisingly, she agreed with him.

"CC," she sighed, "you can't mother him. He already has a mother, and he can't stand her! And here he is dating this girl that he's crazy about, and she's turning into his mother! You can drive a person away like that. You're going to have to trust him. Now, if you say, 'Boyfriend, could you do x-y-z' and he agrees and doesn't do it, then you can say 'okay, enough is enough' and start looking for someone else. But if he hasn't messed up yet, you can't blame him."

"Well, he did say that I can force him to do things on my time," I answered thoughtfully.

"Right," she agreed, "you can't. You're a control freak, we know this, but you're going to have to learn how to trust him and give him breathing room. Boyfriend is.....he grew up differently than you. He's trying to find his own way in becoming a young man and you've got to remember that."

Huh. As usual, good advice. About a week after we fought, he bought a plane ticket and I paid for the connecting bus tickets. I was happy, he was happy, and (surprise, surprise) the fighting stopped. But it didn't come to a sugary stop, you know, like one day I'm ready to kill him and the next I'm lovey-dovey....there were awkward days in between, no doubt. And we had a few mini-arguments in between that as well. But all in all, we're back on civil speaking terms with each other and our stress levels have dropped. So all is well.


Okay, I'm off to write an update post....you guys deserve it.

The fight, pt. 1

Huh. I have a fight that happens to be the breaking point in my relationship, post about it, and receive some of the best advice I've had in a long time. Duly noted, peeps.

Anyway, I bet you're wondering what happened after that argument. Here we go:

After that night, I went to bed stunned. It was weird, I felt....cold, empty. I was contemplating breaking up with the supposed love of my life and I didn't feel much of anything. If there was something swimming around underneath the surface it was relief--which confused the hell out of me. Waking up and going to work was like...a dream. I kind of floated around my family, got into my car and made it work. Still no emotion. Sitting out in the parking lot, I called Boyfriend since he was clearly waiting until I made the first move. We made pleasant, awkward talk that happens when you know something's on the horizon. Finally, I took a deep breath and plunged in.

Me: Boyfriend, I've been thinking about last night and--

Boyfriend: --yes?

Me: --I just think that last night was the last straw. I didn't like what was said. You know, I just...don't know about...(insert me beginning to tear up)....what's going on with us and....we've been arguing a lot and you've been yelling a lot....


By now I was babbling and crying, and somewhere along my 10 minute spiel about how our relationship went wrong he understood what I was talking about.

Boyfriend: Well you just constantly talk to me like I haven't been trying my best. I just feel like my best isn't good enough for you, no matter what I do it isn't good enough!

Me: I know, and that's my problem. And you know, with school coming up and you getting ready to graduate next year and me being an RA on top of all of my other activities and me pledging for a sorority in the spring, I just feel like I need someone strong to be there....and....not yell at me when we have a decision to make and they don't want to be bothered with it because I can't...won't...take it and I just don't think it's fair...


Boyfriend: (long pause) Then what do you want to do?

Me (taking multiple deep breaths before saying) I think....we should...take a break.

Readers, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to say. Ever. I may not have felt any emotions the night before, but as I said that it felt like some type of knife had went through me. What was I saying? Was I breaking up with him?

Boyfriend: So you're breaking up with me.

Me: No! I'm just asking to take a break...just for the summer...

Boyfriend: Bullshit! That's what people say when they want to break up!

Me: Boyfriend, please!

Boyfriend: No, you know what? Fine. Fine. You want to break up, let's break up! Okay? Fine. We're done. I don't need this....

And there was the infamous click of him hanging up on me. By this time I had about 2 minutes to get my brown ass into the building and clock in, so I went back into stunned mode, wiped my eyes, got out of the car and went in.

Inside my manager and co-worker were standing behind the desk talking (something they do often). They greeted me and I put on a false, plastic smile, returning the favor. After settling in, I tuned in to what they were gossiping about. Ironically, they were talking about having a shitty day.

Manager: Yeah, so I got to the job that I'm interviewing for, 30 minutes early, and they never show!

Me: What?

Manager: Yep, and then an hour after I had been there, they called wondering where I was! I was like, you know what? Screw this....

Co-worker: Yeah, I'm just...(throws up her hands)...not having a good day in general.

Me: Well, you know what? I just broke up with my boyfriend.

Coworker and Manager: (stunned silence)

Me: Yep. Of 2 years. Just now. In the parking lot. So I win.

I attached a fake smile to my face again and looked at the gaped mouths.

Manager: Wow.

Co-worker: That sucks.

Manager: Are you okay?

Me: Yep. I'm fine.

I vented to them for a while, telling them what a bastard he was, how sorry he was, how sick he made me, etc. They agreed that I should hate him, I was wasting my time, and so forth. As I was taking a breath my phone rang. It was Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: Hey.

Me (with manager looking at me): Hey.

Boyfriend: I'm sorry.

Me: Me too.

Boyfriend: I shouldn't have said that.

Me: I know. Look, can we finish this later? I'm on the clock and I really shouldn't be on the phone....

Boyfriend (sounding relieved that I still wanted to talk to him): Yeah...

About halfway through my shift, I say, "Wow, I just...I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm moving through water."

Manager: Oh, God, you're not a crier are you?

Me: Nah. Do I look like the type to cry?

Manager (obviously relieved): Nope. Just making sure.

Wow. This post is gaining length. Tell you the rest tomorrow.

Nope not dead...in hiding...

Nah. I'm not dead. Just hiding out from everyone, not really wanting to deal with everything. Yuck. But I guess bloggerland is calling to me because I'll be posting soon.

Such is love....

Yesterday I worked a 12 hour shift, from 9 a.m. till 10 p.m. thanks to me getting my second job. No big, though, I need the money and my family was getting on my nerves. We're leaving tomorrow for our family reunion, and as some of you may recall, I was also supposed to be seeing Boyfriend along the way. The plan was from to attend the family reunion from Thursday to Sunday, and then Sunday evening leave out to Indiana to see him. I would be taking 4 days of vacation ON TOP of the family reunion time to be with him. His only task? To get my ticket. I should've known.

The first problem arose when he miscalculated his money and realized he didn't have enough to buy the plane ticket. We argued about that for a while and for a minute, I refused to entertain the thought of taking the Greyhound back home, a 10+ hour ride. After bitching to my mother about it, she shook her head and chuckled, "Umph! You mean he's going to take his whole paycheck in order to pay for a one-way ticket for you? What a schmuck...". I realized I was being selfish, and if I really wanted to see him, I could make the sacrifice of taking the bus.

The second problem reared its ugly head after he opened his bank account, and was told it would be 10-14 business days before he would be able to receive his credit card along with the precious 3 number security code on the back. You know...the one that's needed to purchase anything online? Yeah. By the time the mailman arrived with that, it would be too late to by any ticket... and so I vented my frustration to him and his fallback answer was shouting at me, "I'm doing all I can!!!"

We pushed that problem aside when I repeatedly asked him to check the Greyhound site for ticket prices and what not, so that I could arrange for someone to pick me up. Today's Wednesday, and he's the king of procrastination, but me not knowing how I'm going to get home was not settling well with me.

Here's a little backstory:

Boyfriend has very minimum responsibility. You know this already. His parents have taken care of everything for him since creation, and now that he's a grown man, he still isn't motivated to do something until his mother calls bitching and complaining. Then he in turn bitches about being bitched at and reluctantly does it. Some man, huh? Remember, I had to bitch at him to get a job so that he could have money to travel this summer. And when he was given responsibility, to go to class, he ended up flunking out of the same class--twice and being kicked out of his music school.

What's funny about Boyfriend is that he thinks he's doing something. No, really! And that when people bitch at him the WHOLE WORLD must be against him, because he's doing everything in his sheer will power to do it right. He honestly told me a while ago that he was scouting a $1500 monitor for his computer--to play his game with. When I told him that was stupid, why not save that and buy a little car?, he reacted like that was a foreign concept. Having the ability to travel at will as opposed to sitting on your butt and playing your computer game? Easy choice, hands down. The computer game will obviously win every time.

Back to the present:

Last night, after making it home, I called him.

Boyfriend: Hello?
Me: Hey, how are you?
Boyfriend: Good... (I hear him move away from the phone to speak into his computer's mic, on his game no doubt)

I try to make conversation, and my head ends up getting bit off.

Me: What's your problem?!

Boyfriend: Nothing! I'm in p-v-p zone... (person versus person...apparently a very, very important zone in the game)

Me (sarcastically): Well, sorry to be getting in the way...

Boyfriend (distracted): What? Look, I don't need this attitude....

Me: (snapping) Do you just want me to call you back later?

Boyfriend: Whatever....yeah, that's fine.

Me: Fine, I'll call you tomorrow.

Boyfriend: Fine.

We slam the phone on each other. Y'all, I just worked a fucking 12-hour day!! What happened to, "Hey baby, how was your day? How you feeling?" I ended up calling back, of course, later on that night, and that's when we had the Greyhound fight. Here's the kicker: He wants me to take a bus from Indiana back home, arriving here approximately 5:30 in the morning.

"Boyfriend, I can't do that."

"YES YOU CAN!!!"

"No I can't! Who's going to come pick me up from the station at 5 in the morning? My parent's won't do that, they have to be at work at 8!"

"WELL, I'M TELLING YOU THAT'S AN OPTION AND YOU'RE REFUSING TO DO IT--"

"Honey, I'm a 20-year-old woman, and I don't have any business traveling that late a night...on the Greyhound...by myself...."

"I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN!! UGH!" Right, I'm stressing him out so bad...

"I can't travel like that! I wouldn't have a way to get home..."

"You could take a cab...."

"Are you fucking nuts? Taking a cab at 5:30 in the morning?"

"LOOK, I'VE TRIED THE BEST I CAN AND YOU HAVE OPTIONS AND YOU DON'T WANT TO TAKE THEM SO THAT'S IT. JUST DON'T COME! JUST DON'T COME THEN!"

(softly) "Well it looks like I'm not going to be able to..."

"FINE! DON'T COME! I'M GOING TO BED!!" (pause) "GOODNIGHT!!!"

(another pause...even softer) "Goodnight honey." And he slams the phone.

I was too stunned to even cry. I just looked at the phone for a few minutes and talked myself into calming down and going to sleep.


I think I'm fed up. No, no, I was fed up a while ago. Now I think I'm beyond that point. I feel trapped--I know he's not going to change, I sometimes wonder if there's someone out there who would be able to step up to the plate, but I can't leave him. Or rather, I'm scared to. Every time I try to talk to him about what's bothering me--his lack of will to be responsible (and a man), his immaturity, and his not seeing anything wrong with it, he jumps on the defense and it's like talking to a 2 year old with his fingers in his ear.


I don't know what to do....I'm open to suggestions...even from any asshole Anons who are bound to find this post...

Blah

Bah humbug. I'm:

a) constipated--went out with a coworker last night and downed a couple of drinks along with a huge plate of chili cheese fries

b) feeling mentally spent after being dragged to church this morning

c) counting down the days until I go see Boyfriend--7 days to be exact


Even though I feel mentally blah after church, I must admit, every time I go I usually get a good laugh out of it. Some of those peeps are nuts. Ahhh...the power of salvation....

The freaks come out!

I remember the day I lost my virginity. Actually, it was night, in my grandmother's living room, on the floor with a squeaky air mattress underneath me. It was Boyfriend's first time visiting me, and we had planned the night for a long time. Everything was ready--condoms, my first sexy lingerie, the t.v. turned up loud, but not too loud to wake my grandmother. Now that I think about it, I think she knew what the hell we were doing, because she closed her door that night--and she never does that. I feel kind of bad...but hey, opportunity knocked.

Anyway, it wasn't really romantic. At all. Just the way I like it. First, he went down on me, complete with small bites, "Ah! Shit!", and "Ooops, sorry....". He was a little inexperienced (now you wouldn't be able to tell that...he eats pussy like a champ! :) ). Then, I returned the favor, pulling out all stops. We still laugh about him doing the whole guy whimpering "I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum!!!" and me not pulling up fast enough. I was caught dead in the eye, up the nose, in my hair...ahem, you get the point. The only thing would could do was laugh about it.

After that and a lot of extra foreplay, I was tired and not all that willing to have sex. Of course, he was in his zone and kept nudging, rubbing, and grinding on me until finally I rolled over, looked him right in his eye, and said, "Okay. Let's fuck."

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking like a kid in a candy store.

"Yep," I answered, rolling over to my back. "Let's do this."

After reading ALL of these stories about first times, and hearing the horrific tales of my friends and family (yeah....my aunts are pretty down to Earth about these things), when he slid into me, it didn't hurt at all! I looked up at him in surprise, and his face mirrored mine. That was all the motivation we needed.

Another myth I want to dispel: Contrary to popular belief, virgin guys DO NOT cum easily. He must have pounded away for centuries until he came. Not that I minded then (these days I would probably tell him to hurry the hell up), because I was in full Penthouse mode. Nails were in his back, legs in the air, and I was chanting up to the high heavens, dirty words and all. Finally, we collapsed exhausted and called it a night.

The next afternoon, we had sex again. Then, later on that night, we boogied down two more times, back to back. Boyfriend was so tired after the second time as soon as he was able to pull on his clothes, he passed out (which was adorable by the way)! But my bits and pieces were sore beyond belief, so I was kind of relieved that we had settled down.

I guess this post ties in to my previous one about my slipping libido, and to remind me of just how freaky we can be....

Menstrual Madness

Last month, I decided to be smart. Boyfriend was in town, I didn't have to start working yet, and I decided I didn't need my monthly gift either. So, with the blessing of modern technology (birth control), I skipped my flow. For only God knows what reason, this month I decided to have it, and be one with my body, in tune with Nature, yadda yadda yadda.

I guess my period's pissed off at me for ditching it. Cause it came back with a vengence. And it brought a nasty little cold sore with it. You know, the one that everyone keeps looking at on the sly because it looks so disgusting? Yeah. That's me.

In lieu of bodily wonders, I've hit a financial (and thus social) slump, and have been kind of depressed. Hence, the lack of blogging. Who wants to read about someone else's boring problems? I prefer to write when I have the juicy, funky goodness.

However, on a more positive note, Boyfriend and I are working on our ever evolving sex life. I finally broke down and told him yesterday on our 2 year anniversary that I was a) sick of not having orgasms during sex b) worried because I can't have orgasms during sex c) feeling slightly unenthusiastic about sex in general and d) glad I was finally finding the courage to tell him.

Don't get me wrong--he's known about my orgasmic problems since we've started having sex.

And he's done all that he knows how (remember, we lost our virginity to each other). So it's not his fault. He's constantly asking what he can do, looking at different books, etc. which is one of the reasons I love him. It was just...me. I've hit some type of sexual pit, fallen in, and am now just deciding to climb out. As you may recall, I was on the prowl when I first met him. I was a Prowless. I was a prowling thing-a-ma-bob. You get the point. But now I'm beginning to feel like the frumpy house wife. I refuse to allow sex to feel like it's all for his ultimate enjoyment while I get the short end of the stick--you know, feeling connected, compassion, oneness, and all of the emotional b.s. I want a killer orgasm and I want it now!

This of course excites him to no end (another reason why I love him) and he's ready to give this new sexual attitude a try the next time we see each other. I'll let you know how it turns out...

Oh yeah! Have I ever told about the night we lost our virginity? No? Hmm...maybe tomorrow....

Say What??

I work at a clothing store (actually, I'm about to work at two clothing stores) in the mall here in town. The store recently lost one of its managers, and another one went on a two week vacation. The results were having two associates fill in manager positions for the next two weeks until they could hire more help.

One of the associates is cool. The other one, though, is positively Clueless. She doesn't know what she's doing. She stresses out way too fast, which is not good when you're in charge of running a store. And apparently, she isn't really fond of me. Chalk it up to my female intuitions, but I knew she didn't care for me the first day I met her. She said hi with one of those fake, polite smiles and didn't really say much to me after that. Unfortunately, the first day she had to open the store by herself, I was the one who was there working with her.

Not only did I witness ALL of her mistakes and her near mental breakdown, I apparently bugged the shit out of her with questions that only she could answer (as manager) for customers. It wasn't intentional, but someone had to be in charge and since she was wearing the hat, I handed over her fair share of responsibility. Of course, the store was a disaster, and it was held against her.

Today, I worked with her again, filling in for someone else who had a funeral to go to. We both opened the store, this time not having to worry about her making any mistakes. One of the more experienced managers did everything for her the night before. We went into the back room to start the opening procedures, and she bent down to pick something up. Because we all wear low-rise pants, her ass crack was showing. I didn't say anything, obviously, but she must've felt self-conscious because she said, "Don't be looking at my butt crack."

"Right," I said, rolling my eyes, "because I woke up this morning definitely thinking about looking at your crack."

She gave one of her fake polite laughs, and I continued, "Don't worry. I know how it is to wear low-rise jeans. My crack shows sometimes too!"

"Well," she said dead serious, "your butt is definitely bigger than mine, so you would show a lot more crack." What the hell? I walked over to a mirror and did my little "yeah I know I'm fine" jig in it before saying, "Yep, I gotta keep my figure for my man!"

"Your man, " she echoed and didn't say anything else. I left it alone, letting it go. We went out to the front of the store, and while she did some more work (that I have to watch her do and sign off on), she mentioned, "Oh, today you're going to take your 15 minute break at 9:30 this morning."

"What?" I asked incredulously, looking at the time. It was 9:01 and we had just gotten to the store. "Why?"

"Because Ashley (our district manager) told me that at her store, they take their breaks around that time so that no one will be left by themselves during the day."

"But, that doesn't make sense," I sputtered, confused. "We just got here! What am I taking a break from--walking through the door and going to the bathroom?"

"Actually," she said, sighing, "it makes a lot of sense. Because soon we'll start opening at 8, so you'll be here for a couple of hours."

Readers, I ain't no punk (pardon my ghetto), but I know when to pick my battles. I figured it would freeze in hell before I would go on a break before even working, and she must've saw it in my face because she came back a few minutes later and said, "Well, someone gets here at noon so you can take your break then."

The icing on my cake was later on that day when I had to ask her advice for a customer. The girl was telling me that the dirty yellowish color was "in" and I was skeptical.

"Clueless, what do you think?" I asked as she was walking by. "Is dirty yellow in?"
Clueless raised her eyebrow. "You know, I could take that as a racist comment." She's Mexican, by the way. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I said, and continued the conversation, asking her the same question. Who the hell was she? And how the hell am I racist? Uh, duh, I'm black, remember?! My ancestors were in chains LONG before her's came across the border. Ack.

We ended the day with not much said between us. It's clear--she doesn't like me and vice versus.

Since I'm on my way straight to Hell....

....I might as well explore other religions. That sounds bad, doesn't it? Hmmm....

I was raised Baptist. My grandfather was a preacher, but he was the dirty, sleep-with-women-in-the-choir, bitter old man type of a preacher. Both of my parents were both raised in Baptist homes, and are conventional Christians. It's not surprising that their children were raised the same.

I've belonged to three churches in my life: 1) my grandfather's, who was, in all rights, not the ideal spiritual home for anyone in their right mind 2) a friend's of my dad who happened to be the preacher in the church. There were only 5 people in the congregation, my family. The others were the preacher, his wife, and the organist and 3) the church we currently belong to. Actually, I don't think of myself as one who "belongs" to the church. My dad fell in love with the church, and decided, as the head of the family, that was the church we would belong to. My mother doesn't care much for it, but to keep the peace she attends faithfully (like a good Christian woman would do), and my sister and I have no feelings towards it whatsoever. We were made to attend in the beginning, and when asked if we liked it or not, we responded "no". My dad decided that was too bad, and here we are.


Maybe it's my past and current experiences with these churches that have tainted my view of the religion, but in my opinion, it goes deeper than that. I never understood Christianity. I mean, yes, I can read and write and comprehend, I've read the whole Bible, and I've been deeply steeped in Christian philosophy my whole life. As I've gotten older, I guess...I've been wondering if it's for me.

I damn near had a mental breakdown last year as I agonized over whether having sex before marriage was right or wrong. Seriously. No Joke. I was in therapy for almost 6 months. Boyfriend was horrified (surprise, surprise) at the thought of being abstinent, and I made the decision whilst he was on spring break, which totally ruined it for him. I still feel bad about that one. Part of me, the one who knew she had an obligation to her faith to stop having sex and repent, tried to talk the other part of me, the one who knew that having sex with Boyfriend was more than just physical and it was an important part of our relationship, out of my "sinful ways".

Ack. That lasted for about 2 weeks. Then, I went to visit Boyfriend, and that theory flew out the window. I resolved that if I was going to go to Hell, it would be worth it.

It seemed the whole sex issue kind of opened a can of worms for me. I questioned the theory of temptation--why is something that is supposedly so wrong feel so right? Especially if you love someone. And wasn't reproduction a natural part of life? As I began to question these things, I also began to realize I didn't know jack about the history of my faith. Where did these ideas come from? Something told me it wasn't all from God.

This is where wikipedia came in. During my free time (which was sparse), when I wasn't sleep or blogging, I was learning about Christianity. No one told me it had such a bloody and hypocritical past! (I hope this doesn't offend anyone) Tons of people died as Christianity came on the scene and forced others to change their religion (pagans). I learned of the Gnostic Gospels. And the more I learned, the more my mentality slowly began to change. Seemed to me like there was more human intervention than I was taught in the Christian world.

This sparked my interest in learning about other religions, such as Buddhism. But they still didn't seem to do it for me. What am I missing?

I'm still searching. I've discovered a new one (that I won't name right now) that's really interesting, and really speaking to me. I cautiously asked Boyfriend what he knew about it:

Boyfriend: My ex-girlfriend was into it.
Me: What did you think about it?
Boyfriend: Not much. (Gah, he's so insightful....NOT)
Me: I mean, you didn't think anything about the fact that she was into it?
Boyfriend: Well, I thought it was kind of weird...but that's about it. Why, you're not getting into it are you?
Me: I'm just learning about it.

I changed the subject before he got suspicious. Till I decide what I want to do, I'll keep my journey to myself. It'll just be wikipedia and my little secret.

Holy Post

I've been on a spiritual quest.


Okay, technically it's not a spiritual quest, but I've been wikipedia-ing a lot. It's too late tonight for me to right a full post about it, but I'll fill you in tomorrow. Till then...

Another dreary day in cow land...

Blah. This summer hasn't really kicked off with a bang. The weather really needs to make up its mind right now, because one minute it's bright and sunny and the next pouring rain for hours. Today's my off day and I'm bored as hell. Oh well, that's what booze is for....

You may now kiss the bride....

I just woke up from a nightmare. In it, I was married. It was weird. One day I'm single, living the carefree life, and the next, I'm due to get married in a few hours. What scared me about the dream was how realistic it was. I had this awful feeling of being trapped, like I couldn't wake up and all I knew was that I really, really didn't want to marry the guy (who happened to be Boyfriend). My heart kept saying, "You know you don't want to marry this guy, why are you here?!" And my head kept saying, "Because, we've been through so much! I owe it to him, right?" Either way, I was steadily moving towards matrimony throughout the dream.

My mother was a key instrument in the dream. She kept giving me her life-like pep talks about how not to worry, everyone has pre-wedding jitters. I would nod wide-eyed and then walk away zombie like. At one point, my old puppy love from high school showed up. He was all grown up and looking...well, he wasn't my crush back then for his IQ. Even he kept asking me, "Wait, you're getting married? Since when? WHY??" That didn't help.

All of my friends were shocked, because of the rush. No one believed me. One of my acquaintances even missed work so she could "witness" the catastrophe I was about to go through. "Ooh, I can't wait to see this!" she cackled, slipping on a pair of slacks at her home (don't ask).

Seeing my old puppy love really through me for a loop and I started thinking about being with him instead of Boyfriend (in the dream). My all-knowing mother had an answer for this, too: "Don't worry about it. When your father and I were first married, I had an ex-boyfriend who used to send me [love] letters all the time. He was so nice. I just kept them from your father. Eventually, they stopped." Thanks, Ma.

Finally, the day of my wedding happens. Everyone's smirking at me from the pews. I don't see a preacher. All I see is Boyfriend, standing there calm. I don't remember (in the dream) exchanging rings or anything. I feel like I'm about to be sick. I want to run, but I can't. I keep telling myself that it'll be fine, that these are just jitters. I owe it to him. One minute I'm at the altar, and the next I'm at a drive-thru with my parents with my father asking me to see my ring again. I show it to him, realizing that it's just the promise ring Boyfriend gave me a while ago. No big deal. [Reaches for small paper bag to hyperventilate....moves the bag aside to write] The dream was awful. After the marriage, before I woke up, there was a brief moment of just....pure unhappiness. It's hard to describe, I just knew I wasn't happy. Boyfriend stayed emotionless throughout the dream, which didn't help.

I awoke freaked the fuck out. What was that dream trying to tell me? I was too scared to even get pass that question. Yeesh.

Bum transformation

Tally ho, chums, I'm back from the watery graves of depression (sorry, been thinking about Pirates 3 far too much apparently). It's noon here and I just woke up to my mother calling me from work:

Mom: Hey, how are you?
Me: Fine, how are you?
Mom: (pause) Good. What are you doing?
Me: (pausing to ponder whether I should lie or not) Um, just woke up actually.
Mom: (sigh) CC, you need to find a second job.
Me: I know.
Mom: I mean, every day you sit around the house is a day you could be working. Get up, be aggressive. I expect a full report when I come home.
Me: (begrudgingly, rolling out of bed) yeah, yeah.
Mom: Good, love you, bye!

Eh. I feel like a bum. Which is funny because I already have a job, I just don't start it till next week. So it's not like I'm mooching off of them forever. BUT, in CC land, you need to at have two part-time jobs or 1 full time or else you'll get deported. It's also funny because I'm the one who's usually up in arms about having 2 jobs, not them. I think I've raised the bar far too high for my parents.

In other news, I talked to my best friend (the only one I could call a best friend) that I've known since 4th grade. She brought me up to date with who's gay, pregnant, a drug dealer, etc. I ended up asking her for advice about a friend:

Backstory:

My friend and I were good friends throughout high school. We had strict ass parents and neither one of us could go anywhere, so we leaned on each other for support. When we got out of high school, I suddenly had a boyfriend (Boyfriend) and as the story goes, I sort of ditched everyone I hung out with in order to be with him. Not that he was forcing me or anything, but of course when you find a new guy you're madly in love with and all of the feelings are new, blah blah blah, everyone else kind of takes a seat in the background. My friend found a new crowd to hang with at her school and we went our separate ways.

During our last winter break, I noticed that I hadn't seen her in a while, and decided to call. We hung out, but it was extremely weird (for me, at least) because we had both changed. And she wasn't all that recepetive towards me anyway. However, like my best friend mentioned above, I'm a strong believer in the whole "keeping-in-touch-forever" type of thing, and so I still called her occasionally. Eventually, after it bothered me enough, I apologized and tried to make things right. But it still wasn't there.

Present Day:

I called her and we chatted for a few minutes, both making promises to see each other before the summer was out. But I could tell she wasn't going to break her neck to hang out with me and vice versus. I felt kind of bad, because if I hadn't of ditched her for Boyfriend, maybe we still would've been as close as we were a couple of years ago. I asked my best friend about it and she told me to apologize again (I have a hard time apologizing to people, I'm a taurus, so stubborn is in my nature), and be done with it. "People change, CC" she said. "That's what growing old is all about."

I talked to Boyfriend about it as well, and he agreed. "Let it go," he said. "You can't be friends with everyone forever."

But still, after that good advice, it still bothers me. Is it because I'm that guilty? That it's hard for me to swallow that I screwed someone else over for a good time? I'd never done that before and never have after her, but that doesn't matter. The fact is the damage is done. Does that make me a bad friend? Person? Even though I'm still upset that we're not close, what's done is done and I won't try to go out of my way to be friends with her again. I guess I can chalk that up to a lesson learned.

Old School

What ever happened to good clean fun? Hmmm? I like to drink, not too big on pot, love going to the movies (kinda goes with the whole filmmaker thing), and just kicking it. But why can't that be done in a responsible manner? I never understood drinking and driving, for instance. If you know you're going to a party, and you're going to be drinking, don't drive. That's simple. I've been in way too many major accidents in my life to support the habit.

I guess I'm venting. I'm here in stupid cow land and there's nothing to do but get high or get drunk. Plus, I'm broke. I don't get a paycheck for another two weeks. Gas is high, so I can't toot around town on $20 anymore. I hate to sound like I'm in junior high, but I have no life. And the few friends that I do have here (wait...let me count....I think....2? Maybe?) are either too busy with work, boyfriends, etc. or they drink and drive. Neither sound too promising.

Whenever my mother and I fight, she'll always throw in the factor of me not having any real friends. "What's wrong with you?" she'll ask.

But we know the answer: I'm too fucking mature and responsible for the peeps my age. I've always been, since I was old enough to be old enough. I'm way too practical for my own good, which is more of a hindrance than a blessing at this point of my life.

So, I can analyze and re-analyze my situation all I want, or I can go and create a crowd for myself. Which I'm not too good at doing. The truth is, how in the hell do you find friends these days in my stats? What, hang out with an older crowd? Sounds lovely, but I'm 20, so bars won't accept me, and I'm in an area that 99.999999% white, so finding a fake I.D. is out of the question. Ugh. It's past 2 in the afternoon and I'm about to go back to sleep.

Cheers.

P.S-- I had my first Anon today. This must mean I'm coming up in the world.

We're losing some characters....

Yep,

It was time to remove the Alkies and the Saved Sinners. As much as I loved them (ahem), I'm no longer dealing with them and there's no need to confuse anyone with their pictures being there. SO, as I encounter new people, I'll keep updating mug shots so that y'all can have a visual. Because that's just the type of person I am.

On another note,

Boyfriend will be heading out later on this morning (it's 2 am my time). We had pretty good good-bye sex and an awesome cuddling session, along with a few tears, pictures for Facebook, etc. He keeps promising to send for me within the next month, so we'll see.

Parental PDA

I love my parents. I really do. And I hope to God one day that I have the type of marriage they have. They've been married for 22 years and are very happy. And they're both young (they had me when they were 22 and got married when they were 20). So often, they're full of touches, rubs, kisses and yo momma jokes.

Parent Joke of the day (and they make these all the time and frequently):

I'm looking for a can of beans in the kitchen pantry and I call out to my dad who's in the living room with my mom.

Me: Dad, are you sure you saw Bush? (as in Bush beans...you know, the one with the talking dog in their commercial)

Dad: No, I thought I saw Bush, but.....I haven't saw any bush in a while.

Me (still thinking that he was talking about beans): You haven't seen any Bush in a while?

Dad: Nope, I definitely haven't seen any bush in a while....

Mom (slapping my dad upside the head): I heard you the first time!!!


Sigh. This is why I'm warped.

Sex, love and money

Ahhh!!! Readers, I'm refreshed! And in a surprisingly good mood (which is rare for a Saturday morning of which I awoke to the phone ringing, and my mother barging into my room instructing me to make breakfast for my little brother....bother, bother...)! I smell a backstory coming on:



I know in the last post I might have sounded bitchy(er than usual) about Boyfriend, but you must understand: He comes from a well off family. He's always had what he wanted, and he's always known that financially he could rely on his 'rents to up any money he might be short of. Last December, he decided he hated his job of about 4 years too much and quit. Just like that. It was during break and so he went back to school, where he never works during the school year. His parents give him the money he needs, as long as he abides by their rules. Keep in mind Boyfriend is 22 years old and a senior in college. Ahem.

Anywho, he hasn't had a job since. He came back during one of our school breaks ( I can't remember which one) and we both were broke so we couldn't do anything but hang out on my parent's couch (I'm not welcomed in his home). And when we did go out, we would always go dutch. Hey, I'm a modern woman, I can dig paying my way every now and then. But all of the freakin time?! Hell, I might as well go by myself....

He still didn't see a problem with the fact that he was dead broke. His excuse, "(whine) But I'm in school!" So? I'm 20 years old, I've got bills, credit, work in the school year and hold down two jobs during the summer. So yes, when we go out to a movie or to dinner (I'm always telling him to go somewhere cheap and he always insists on going to somewhere a little too expensive for college students), I expect him to foot the bill. What the hell else is he spending his money on?

After a big fight about his lack of wining and dining, I stopped complaining. I figured we were in a long distance relationship, and when we did see each other, we would just sit on our parents couch. To be completely honest, I was becoming bored. And I'm sure the thoughts of breaking up entered both of our minds on more than one occasion.



Back to the present day:

Yesterday, Boyfriend arrived. I was happy he made it but wasn't too excited, because I figured all we were going to do was sit on my parents couch and make out. Maybe. I wasn't really in a giving mood. I went to the mall to settle some shit with my job (another post) and Boyfriend ended up calling me, suggesting that we go see a movie, his treat. I was floored. He, the one who has limited funds until he starts his new job, was willing to treat me to a movie?


He was tired (he'd only had two hours of sleep) and I wanted to go home and get ready, so we decided to meet up later. I made it home, and within 15 minutes Boyfriend was calling.

"Hey", I answered, folding laundry.

"Hey, you wanna go ahead, get tickets to the movie early and walk around the mall?"

"Sure, "I said, looking down at my damp shirt (it has been hot here, not that nice, pleasant type of hot, that smothering type of hot, and I have leather seats in my car). "Um, when are you coming? I'm kind of folding laundry."

He ignored me. "Ready or not, here I come." Mind you, he sounded incredibly tired, and this made him sound incredibly sexy. I don't know...maybe it was because I was now warming up to the idea of our first date since......well, it had been a really long time. And, even though he was jet lag, he was attempting to hang out with me. I guess he figured he'd better get out whilst his parents were tired before they unload a million things for him to do to take up his time.

We left for the movies, Pirates of the Caribbean 3, and had to stand in line for about 15 minutes. The shows were packed. I've never seen so many teeny-boppers at the movies before! During the movie, they kept clapping during the sappy parts. Gah. Afterwards, my knee was killing me (yet another post), so he piggy backed me from the movie theater to the car, which was alllllll the way in the back of the parking lot. I thought that was sweet. I think we were both in an affectionate mood after the show, because we kept showering each other in kisses and what not.

Finally, we made it back to my house. Now, my parents live in a townhouse, which used to be a nice, quiet area. It's out in the boonies, meaning not a lot of people live out where we do. However, in the last six months, some "questionable" characters have moved in by the droves, and now new restrictions have been placed on the laundry room, fitness center, etc. Usually, during the warm weather months, Boyfriend and I would either have sex in the living room downstairs while my 'rents watch t.v. in their room upstairs, or we would grab a blanket, and sneak into the garage. We could only do this because there wasn't a lot of activity at night (i.e. cars driving by with their brights on).

Yesterday was a different story. We pulled into our parking lot, parked and proceeded to make out. Much to my chagrin, cars were still whizzing by, much to frequently for us to have a quickie in the car. And then, to our shock, we saw a patrol car drive through the parking lot slowly, as if he was.....patrolling!

"Since when did cops start being in this area?" Boyfriend asked, annoyed. We ended up going back to my house, and knocked boots before he had to go. Hmm. I think it had been a little too long since I had some. Maybe that's why I was in such a good mood this morning.


Anyway, I'm off to work (maybe I'll tell you about that tomorrow)!

Summer Days...

I've been a horrible blogger. You can each issue me 10 lashes at your convenience, I will bend over and not complain! Truth is, I've been extremely busy for the last two weeks (I know, I know, no excuse) and then, SICK!! But, alas, after two days of being heavily drugged, having x-rays taken and multiple visits to the doctor, I'm well enough to type.

Updates:

1) I finished school and now I'm back at home where the cows roam. There's nothing worse than busy other than being bored. Everything shuts down at 9 pm, and the alcohol well here is very, very, dry. Sigh.

2) Boyfriend has finally taken strides to getting a job! After he realized that a) I was dead serious about not coming to see him until he bought my ticket (which meant that he would actually have to have money) and b) figured out that summer school with no friends and little family would be boring, he buckled down and pulled a job at a drugstore. So, now we're waiting for him to actually work and get paid. But, his dragon sister is graduating from high school this weekend, and he'll be in town for a few days. I'll let you know how that goes (trust me, I'm sure his parents will put up a fight when he tries to duck out and see me, and that always leads to drama!).

3) On a lighter note, my now ex-roommate PG has gotten fat! I know, that's mean, but you must understand how superficial these girls are. They're the type you see in the local cafeteria eyeballing everyone else walking by with a plate as they suck down ice water and munch on a baby plate of lettuce. So, imagine my amusement as I watched PG's ass spread like butter over the last couple of weeks during the semester! Ah well, that's what smoking, booze binging, lack of exercise, and being a total bitch will do to you!

4) As far as my makeover journey goes....well, let's just say I modified it a bit. Yes, I'm still trying to be conscious of my personal appearance ( I actually try to match now) and I've taken to putting on make up more often (partly because I'm job hunting and I don't want to scare anyone with my hair....I'm hoping the makeup with make up for any culture shocks anyone has when they see my afro or twists or puffs). But I refuse to give up any of my old t-shirts (okay, I threw away a couple...), some of my baggy jeans, etc. If someone has a problem with it, they can kiss my ass!

Ahem.

No need to draw this entry out, just wanted to let you know I'm still here, so

Peace,
CC

The tomboy...

So,

I'm almost done with finals, which mean...drum roll please....more frequent posts! Yaayyyyy!!! I've missed my readers! :( Nothing much has been going on that's blog worthy because, alas, I've been running back and forth on about 4 hours of sleep for the last week trying to get through my tests.

But, I need advice:

Today, I began watching One Tree Hill today with Bible Thumper and Instigator, and it was surprisingly good. So good that we watched one full season and are almost done with another. I don't think I'm hooked or anything, but it was something to do outside of being stuck in my room with my Spanish book in my face. However, when I called Boyfriend to tell him what we were doing, he laughed.

"Wow," he said, "I didn't think you were the type to watch One Tree Hill..."

"What's wrong with watching that?" I asked, befuddled.

"Nothing," he said, still chuckling. "But, One Tree Hill's so....girly girly..."

"And?"

"And....you're not....all girly girly....you're the type to watch an action flick or something..."

Readers, the killing part is that it's true! I am the perfect hardened tom-boy. I mean, I don't get physical with guys or anything, but I was never considered pretty or popular enough in high school to get a date so I was always "one of the guys". I was the outspoken, loud, opinionated, hardcore girl (I don't need anyone! was, and still is, my favorite personal saying, right along with Fuck 'em!) that never had her hair perfect (or done, for that matter), nails were always looking like...well, like I was working in construction, clothes always loose-fitting, shoes always scuffed...the list goes on and on. But I didn't care. Being feminine seemed like too much work for me and besides, who was I trying to impress? None of the guys liked me even remotely.

But, I would like to at least try to be a little more feminine. I mean, I'm older and I still have the same 2 skirts I owned three years ago in my wardrobe. Nothing more, nothing less. My manager at my summer job (clothing boutique) had to pick out an outfit for a date with Boyfriend last summer because I have no fashion sense (honestly....my favorite shirt in high school was a loose-fitting plaid button down shirt....), my nails are rarely manicured....or clean for that matter...I would just like to look more presentable. But I don't know how, actually. I mean, dressing up for one day is great, but how do you maintain that?

I asked Boyfriend if he would like a more feminine me, and he hesitantly replied that would be great, but he would still love me no matter what. What do you think?

Thinking.....

Bah humbug. Boyfriend and I just had a fight. Sort of.

Time for another round of back history:

Boyfriend's family hates me. Point blank. There's no sugar coating it with them, and in return, I often express my dislike of them to Boyfriend. Earlier in our relationship, I noticed that Boyfriend didn't have any pictures of me on his Myspace page. I mean none. I swear, if you took the time to read his page then all the way at the bottom you'd see the small text that says "In a relationship". But who does that anymore? And the question is why wouldn't he have any pics? Answer: His little sister. When I was first added as a friend, I was his #1 friend. Apparently this caused a ruckus in his household as his sister demanded that she become his #1. How juvenile, right? No prob, he changes us around. All I asked was that he add pictures. But he refused to do so. His excuse was, "Well, babe, we don't have any good pictures together." Uh-huh.


After our last spring break, we took tons of pictures. I made sure of it. I had a point to prove. And guess what? Even after loading all of these pictures on his Facebook account (yeah, we're on both) he still didn't add any of us on Myspace. It's like he's fucking scared of his little sister! I continued to mention it, and he continued to blow it off. The kicker is that I have tons of pictures of him on both Facebook and Myspace. There is no doubt we're dating. And on top of all of this, he's going through this hanging up phase, where if he doesn't like something I'm saying, he'll just click! Bastard.

Back to the present:


Tonight we were on the phone and I said:

"Boyfriend, why don't you put a picture of us up on Facebook?"

"Why?"

"Because everyone has a picture of the significant other."

{sigh} "Okay, I'll put one up."

Readers, I pounced all over his ass.

"So, wait a minute, you'll put one up on Facebook but you won't put any pictures of me up on Myspace? What, are you scared of your sister?"

{silence} "No....."

"Boyfriend, this is what I'm going to do." (Readers, now I'm calm, with a smile in my voice) "I'm going to remove all the pictures of us from Myspace so you won't have to worry about it."

{silence again}

"Hello?"

"Yeah, I see you're in a pissy mood."

"No, I'm not." We change the subject and start talking about something else. It's clear he doesn't me seriously (again). A little later on, he asks, "What are you doing?"

I'm humming. "Oh, I'm just deleting those pictures like I said I would."

"Why?!" he yells.

"Because, I told you that if you can't have any pic--"

Readers, I didn't get a chance to finish because he hung up. You know what? That was 3 hours ago, and I haven't called him back. I'm sick of him. He can call me if he when he grows the hell up.


xoxo,

CC

P.S--Finals suck.

Officially Stressed The F$%^ Out....

Alrighty, peeps, I'm officially stressed the fuck out. I currently have (at this very moment):

1) 1 final Spanish composition--a review of a restaurant, no less due tomorrow at 1 p.m.

2) 5 extra credit essays for a Film Conceptual Studies class--to bring up my ever falling grade due May 8, at 9 a.m.

3) thesis paper that requires me to "Craft a thesis statement that makes a general declaration about the logic or operations on experimental media. Illustrate your thesis by examining three aspects from three different experimental works, each of a different format." Due May 9 at 9 a.m.; boring ass blog entry about what we watched in class last week (already overdue)

4) My final cut film project on African American women and beauty in 16mm due May 4

5) A review on an event I attended 3 months ago, due Tuesday (I think....)

I currently need a drink. Or a good lay. Preferably both. Boyfriend is starting to notice his blue balls and howl about how he needs to see me, he can't live without me. But, unfortunately, he doesn't have a job, which severely limits how he's going to transport himself from his school all the way to mine. I've helped him out twice to come and see me and my funds and patience are now running thin. Soooo....it looks like he'll be whacking off far more than he expected this summer. O-kay, now that I've given you a schedule of my life for the next 7-10 business days,

Till next time,
CC

8 daysss....

Yikes, it's been 8 days since my last post. To be completely honest with you, nothing much has really been going down, 'cept the usual:

1) I've been helping out with a protest against our Student Government (who is corrupt as hell)
2) I've been fighting off advances from men left and right....it seems in the spring time men just lose their damn mind! How many times do I have to tell everyone I'm taken??
3) Still been generally intoxicated....nothing special.
4) The Alkies are still the Alkies, the SS are still the SS (thank God)
5) Finals are here....so we can begin the 2 week countdown when school will be out and I'll be able to post regularly and worry if I've gotten good grades.

So I'm off to recover from last night's intoxication record, do homework, and eat everything in my fridge!!!

xoxoxo,
CC

Updates!

Greetings, Readers, sorry for the delay in posts (again). What can I say, even though I try to make it to the computer in a timely fashion I can't promise miracles....and my life is just generally hectic. But I still love you.

Let's see, updates, updates:

The Alkie Front: Nothing much, really, except PG and I have escalated to exchanging brief conversation to each other, such as "Have you seen my math notebook?" or "How are you?" Other than that, same ole, same ole.

The Saved Sinners Front: You know, even though I dislike both the Alkies and the Saved Sinners, I'm human and eventually you get bored and want someone to talk to. That's where the SS come in. They're always around (because they live in the dorms) and they always want to be around me. Don't let that flatter you. They love to gossip and back stab one another, and their desire to hang around me is just a ploy to figure out what else they can whisper about. I've realized that they're actually scared of me....and slightly jealous. I didn't come from a broken home, I speak correct English (ahem), I have class (something that they nor their friends know anything about) and I have morals that I stick to. I'm a threat through and through. So they keep me around out of fear. And they hide their fear with gossip and giggles.

But I digress. Last night was the latest I had hung out with them, and our little group included four more girls and three more guys. I swear, I felt like I was back in high school. It was like deja vu all over again. There was no substance to the conversations. Don't get me wrong, my older friends and I talk about guys, drinking, ect., but it seems like there's more maturity there. These girls (and guys) wouldn't pick up a book if God had came down and delivered it. Out of the eight girls, only one that was on my level (she of course, being my age and intellectual). Although the girl and I tried to keep in on the conversation, we would always get cut off or ignored. So finally, shrugging them off, we just turned to each other and started discussing things such as the deeper meanings behind rap music or the emotional damage losing one's virginity to a loser could bring. And we were cracking up, swapping stories, ect. By this time, our group had dwindled to The Denouncer, Ms. Attitude, and another guy and girl. The couple were having a conversation and suddenly as intellectual girl and I noticed, Denouncer and Attitude were watching us and laughing. I mean, not subtle exchange knowing glances laughter, but out-right in your face laughter. Annoyed, I asked, "What?!"
"Nothing," Denouncer said, "y'all must be sleepy cause you over there just cracking up!"
Readers, what in the hell....? Sleepy? Because we're laughing with one another and having a good time? You must understand that when I'm around them now, I very rarely say anything. I just sit and listen and only ask questions when I'm totally confused about some gibberish their talking about. I figured anything I would say would be on another level for them any way. And it was only half past midnight. The intellectual girl and I shrugged it off and kept talking....and laughing. And the two SS kept staring and laughing at us. So finally, giving in, I said, "What is the problem?"
"Y'all are just in your own little world over there," Attitude said. Oh, okay, the real problem was that we had stopped paying attention to them and they didn't like it. So they were going to try and make us feel uncomfortable. How stupid is that?
"Well, every time we try to say something, we get cut off by someone else," I pointed out. Intellectual girl nodded in agreement.
"Really?" Denouncer asked, almost looking genuinely surprised. "Like when?"
"I don't know every time you've done it," I said.
"You did it tonight," Intellectual girl added. She gave an example and Denouncer kept saying, "Oh my God, I'm sorry. When? When?" As if she couldn't possibly believe she had been rude to us. Finally I said, with a smile that took a lot of strength to muster, "Don't worry about it. There's no hard feelings."
Shortly after, Intellectual girl and I walked back to our rooms and as soon as we were out of sight, I could hear the familiar female buzzing beginning. Geesh.

On another front, I mentioned a couple of posts ago that I had started wearing my natural hair. If you clicked on the licks, you'll find an article that can describe African American hair and the lengths we take to make it straight and "acceptable" in American society.
A stigma within our own community is that "nappy" hair is unacceptable and to be frowned upon. And this stigma runs DEEP. Deep deep. So when you show up with your hair anything but straight, the first thing someone of color who doesn't appreciate our hair will say, "Girl, what's wrong with your hair?!" and look at you as if you have some sort of disease. This is why, Readers, when assholes like Don Imus say shit like "nappy headed hos" and everyone wants to know what's the big deal, I damn near lose my mind. ESPECIALLY when those people are not black and don't know half of the things that goes on in our community. Don't talk what you don't know.



The point is, I haven't escaped this stigma with the Saved Sinners. Each and every one of them could pose in a black hair care magazine for permed hair. It's bone straight, jet black, fried to the maximum with chemicals. And they think they're the shit. You can't tell them otherwise. And then you see me. On top of all the other things I mentioned up above, I have extremely "nappy" hair and wear it proud. It's who I am. I didn't wake up this morning with permed hair growing out of my scalp and I don't see why I should be ashamed of that. Out of all the SS who have seen my hair, the one who is most transparent is Ms. Attitude. Her mouth literally twists up when she sees me. And she avoids my eye contact more than the others. I'm sure they've all said harsh things about me behind my back about my hair, clothes (I don't indulge in name brand), ect. But it seems my hair truly bothers her. And I really don't know if it's because she's so brainwashed that she's truly disgusted with my hair or if she's jealous because she doesn't have enough courage to do what I do (break the social standards). Either way, it's becoming interesting to see how she reacts towards me. It becomes more transparent each time we meet. Hmmmm....

Whew! This post is a freakin book and I still haven't even discussed my thought about feminism yet. Hmmmm....definitely next time....

Till then,

CC

A Special Prayer

Dear God,

Please keep your hands on the families and friends of the victims of the Virginia Tech shooting today. Lord, I know that it is only because of your will that these students have been made angels today, and I know that you will keep your hands on those who have lost someone. Please touch the remaining students who will return tomorrow, Lord. I know, just like the millions of others who will be sending their prayers today, Lord, that no evil deed goes unpunished in Your Highest Court. Please ease the heartache and pain of the victims' families, Lord, and remind them that through the darkest hour you will shine. And thank you for all of those lives that were spared today Lord.

In Your Name I pray,
College Chronicler

Another Day, Another Hour

Blah. I'm bored. Which is worse than being sick, horny, and pissed off combined. I had to snap at my ditsy ass roommate's boyfriend, because they decided to come in and hold a full conversation about a protest that's being held outside--whilst I was sleeping. After I snapped at him, PG's boy said, "Come on, let's the hell out of here" in the classic "Dude!" way. I laughed briefly but then I was wide awake. And bored. Okay, there's no point of writing about nothing at all, so I'll hit you readers up as soon as something interesting happens.


xoxoxo
CC

Mo Hair!

Hey guys, sorry it's been a few days since the last post...I'm still living, I promise. The problem is this was my first week of being done with work and I took the opportunity to catch up on my school work. However, things have still been developing, as usual. Okay, here we go:

Alkie Front: Talked to my RA yesterday and she was very supportive in knowing what was going on between the alkies and me. Actually, she doesn't really care for them and I think she was kind of thrilled that I had cursed IT out....Anywho, the drunks and I still aren't speaking, and one night PG said to IT (who was lying on our futon), "Okay, I'm going to sleep in my own bed tonight, I mean it. " The way she said it let me know she was giving me heads up. Then she added, "See? I made my bed as an incentive...." Huh. I didn't even know she knew big words such as incentive, but nonetheless, she ended up coming into our room around 8:30 in the a.m. and slept until 10. She's a trooper, that PG.

Boyfriend Front: You know, in my past posts I haven't said to much about what's happening currently with Boyfriend, but as Mama always says, "No new is good news." He's doing fine, still supportive and loving. And very horny.....

Saved Sinners Front: I've never cried in front of the Saved Sinners. Never. It's like, a sign of weakness or something. Early this semester, I slipped on ice and banged my knee pretty badly. After being out of commission for about a week, I ended up healing enough to limp around campus and return to class. After about a month, I was back in the club. However, ever now and then my knee will let me know that it wasn't happy about our fall, and swell. The other day, my knee was hurting so bad that by the time the day was over I felt like I was going to pass out. I got take-out for dinner, took the campus shuttle service back to the dorms, and was about to limp my pathetic butt in bed when I received a text from Denouncer, saying, "Hey, we're all in the cafe, you should come down."

I don't know what possessed me to respond saying I'd be there in a minute (maybe it was the pain), but the next thing I knew I was sitting in a chair, attempting to pull myself together while 16 (count em, 16) of black girls, including the Sinners, sat at the next table laughing and having a good time. Instigator and Denouncer were sitting right by me, but Denouncer wasn't paying attention to me. Instigator, however, sees everything, and immediately asked, "You okay?" That was about as loving as she was going to get. I nodded, put on a brave smile, and continued to try to eat my shrimp. Suddenly, tears began to fall and I tried to turn my head away to cover myself. In the end, the tears wouldn't stop, so I hastily threw on my coat, grabbed my food and bookbag, and tried to walk. I made it two steps away before I almost collapsed, and began sobbing sitting halfway in a chair. My knee had finally won.

Readers, here's the kicker (excuse the pun): Out of 16 girls all watching me, no doubt, only Instigator got up and helped grab my things and walked me back to my room. Sure, it was for pure gossip purposes (she kept asking me if I was all right, and then would hint that she was sure it was something Boyfriend had done because in her experience, all girls ever cried about like that was guys...ugh), but still, at least shes had a little human in her at that moment. The rest just watched me for a moment and then kept on laughing and joking as if I hadn't damn near died next to them. Well, you can't beat honesty, can you?


New Friend Front: All right, technically she isn't a new friend, I've been kicking it with her since the beginning of the semester. However, it seems like we've been friends forever. She's older (score 1) and she's mature (score 2). Also, she likes the same goofy things I do (for example, next weekend we're going to the zoo). So, for blogging purposes, I will call her Amiga, because she's from my Spanish class.

Hair Front: I've had about 12 orgasms over my hair since the last post, because I've taken out my braids and am rocking it natural for now. I twisted it last night and wore it in a twist out this morning and received tons of compliments on it. Keep checking future posts for more details on how black girls rock their natural curls! :)

Okay, so my eyes aren't 100% better, and I think my optometrist might shit goose eggs if I continually strain them now, so I'm going to sign off. Hopefully next week I can get into the swing of blogging again. Till then!

Back for good! (Unless the eye doctor demands I give up my computer....)

Okay, so I'm back from the Hells of no sight! I went to the eye doctor yesterday and after looking at my eyes, she said, "Okay, so it looks like you have had a drastic reduction of being able to see up close."
"Oh, God!", I shouted, starting to tear up, "Does this mean I'm going blind?!"

Doc laughed and informed me that I have to simply take breaks during reading and writing and do eye exercises at night for a few months. I received contacts, a job (the manager said I'm seemed nice) and a future appointment date. All of that being said, let's catch up on what's going on here at school:

The Alkies Front

About two weeks ago (yes, yes, I know it's been a long time), Insecure Twit and I had a fight. Since then, I stopped speaking to all of the alkies (which was very easy and considering they weren't really speaking to me, including my own roommate, Popularity Goddess). I was completely through. This was apparently upsetting enough for them to have a mini meeting about it but not upsetting enough for them to say anything to me. Apparently, I then took things TOO FAR when I de-friended them on Facebook. Mind you, I had removed them from my AIM, but in Alkie Land, Facebook. Is. God. About 3 days ago, I received a message from Black Man Whore stating:

hey i was just wondering why you defriended me? i didnt do ANYTHING to you so i think thats rude. i always acknowledge you when i see you and its unfair that ur blaming all of us for one persons actions. i was nice to you that night and listened to you. the only person you should be somewhat mad at is brittagh and maybe u should talk to her about why ur mad instead of ignoring all of us, especially sarah since she didnt do anything. ik ur a great loving person and its really sad that we dont see that anymore.

I wrote back:

you should know that I don't do facebook messaging when/if I have a problem with someone, so since you've brought something up, i'll come see you tonight.


She replied:

well i have class from 7-9:30, please let me know whats going on cause i really don't understand.

When I called her, she said that she wasn't back and she'd see me after her class. Around 10, I called her again and she happened to be in Insecure Twit's room next to me with PG, drinking wine and watching the basketball game. She came over and we hashed it out.

"I just wanted to know why you de-friended me on Facebook," she began. I explained to her that I had de-friended all of the Alkies and she wasn't to take it personal. She complained that she didn't deserve her treatment and I shut her argument down reminding her that no one talked to me that night and I hadn't heard anything from anyone since then.

"Well, you can be a little intimidating," she accused. I took it as a compliment. In the end we ended up calling a truce, and I added her back as a Facebook friend. The funny part came after she left and went back next door. Our walls are extremely thin and so I'm sure PG & IT were listening to our conversation. As BMW got settled back in their room, all I could hear is frantic buzzing as they pumped her for information. I kept hearing BMW say, "I don't know! I don't know!" Finally, their brains clicked that I could hear them and so they headed out of our suite into the outside lounge. While this was going on, I was cracking up in our room. What idiots.

One more thing: PG refused to sleep or hang out in our room now. She turned her desk so that her back was towards our door and I very rarely see her. As ridiculous as spending $5,600 a year just to sleep in IT's room seems, having the room to myself is quite nice.

The Saved Sinners Front:

Since the incident with the Alkies, I have--

Wait a minute. I'm writing this in our room, and IT just came in (yeah, she just barges in whenever she pleases unless I lock the door) smelling like something close to what I'm guessing a cheap prostitute would smell like if they went shopping at Walmart. I had to make a mad dash for something to cover my nose with before I died of stank intoxication. She left her keys in our room for PG and left out, slamming our door so hard she rattled the cups on my desk. Then PG walked in smelling equally horrible, grabbed some stuff and was about to head out before IT came in to point out her keys. This is so stupid.


Anywho, since the Alkies accident, I have hung out with the Saved Sinners a few times. God, I feel like I'm hanging with four little sisters. They're all immature and materialistic. For example, they are obsessed with their hair, and it would be tragic to see what would happen if a bad hair day came about. I play nice, smile, laugh and then go home thanking God I'm nothing like them.

You know, I actually have a bunch of mini stories for you, but I'm so irritated that this little bitch just came in, offended my nostrils, funked up the air and slammed my door, I'm going to have to sign off.

Oh, and it's good to be back.

Okay....eyes still bad....

Okay, my eyes are still on strike BUT I'm going to the eye doctor tomorrow, so hopefully I'll be able to read, write and gossip soon! Gah!!!

I'm still here!!!

Dear Readers,

Sorry I've been away! My eyes have been really weak these last few days, and so I'm usually only able to spend a few minutes at the computer before signing off, hence no new stories for the last couple of days. But, I have good stories for you, about both The Alkies and The Saved Sinners. Lucky you! Promise, tomorrow I'll give the latest developments.

Till then!
xoxo
College Chronicler

Abortion

I was going through some of my favorite blogs and came upon Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter's post about abortion. Personally, I'm pro-choice, but I don't know if I would have an abortion if I were to get pregnant before I wanted to. I think that those who are against abortion aren't being very realistic, and out of all the facts that these people bring up, they never ask: Wait, since I'm so against Jane Doe aborting this child, I'm going to take care of it for the rest of my life, right? Never. Not once. Yes, it's easy for me to sit back and cluck my tongue and shout "Baby Killer!" to a woman who chooses to abort. But, what if that child is born? Into an unloving home? Where the parent (s) weren't ready for a child and mistreat it? Is the child better off? I just wish people would ask themselves this before they make judgments. It's easy to say what you would or wouldn't do when you're not the one that has to make that decision.

Another thing, why are our politicians (almost all of them are men) having a say in this anyway? Once again, who in the hell has to push out this child? Whose body is at risk when it spews forth another human being? The politicians? Nah. The woman who has to look herself in the mirror everyday with the fact that she did or didn't abort her child. I know this is a very controversial topic, but I stand firm: Let the mother decide. Case and point.

Saved Sinners, Pt. 3

Okay, sorry for the delay in the third Saved Sinners episode.

As I was saying, they successfully fucked with my peace of mind. The next day, I woke up, went to my 9 a.m. class, barely concentrated (it felt like I floated through it) and then went to the Union and sat down. I couldn't figure out why in the hell I had so much time on my hands. Shrugging it off, I went back to my dorms and caught up on some much need sleep. Later on that day, I went to another class and then went to the office to use the printer. My boss comes out, and looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Hey College Chronicler," she says, staring, "is everything okay?"
"Huh?" I asked, confused. Damn, did everyone know that I had been royally screwed?
"Yeah...you didn't show up for work today and you didn't call..." She looked at me expectantly.
"What are you talking about?," I said, genuinely confused. "Today's Thursday and...." My sentenced died in the Land of Duh. During all of that free time I had slept through, I was supposed to be at work! "OH MY GOD!!!" I exclaimed. I actually think I frightened my hard-core boss. I was blown the fuck away! I, College Chronicler, had forgotten to go to work. That is some shit that doesn't even happen to the black people I know. Forgetting to go to work is like....something you would see in a movie or something, but I don't know 1 person from the Motherland that has forgotten to get to work...it's like a sin or something. Ahhhh!!!

After I had a pyschotic episode in the office (my boss slowly began to back away) I raced home and called my grandmother (who, by the way, is cool as hell). She, too, was shocked that I had FORGOTTEN to go to work, but she also thought it was funny as hell. I was not amused. Yes, these girls had disappointed me, hurt my feelings, ect. That's all fine and dandy. But they had fucked with my money! While I screamed and ranted to no one in particular, I received a text message from Instigator. Just to let you know, we'll be meeting in the lobby at such and such time. What? They still thought that I was going to the damn party with them? I text her back, Thanks, but I won't be able to make it. She sent me one back, Okay...

I took a deep breath and began to meditate. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was another black girl, a friend of ours.

Friend: Why you ain't going to the party tomorrow?
Me: Because me and the other girls had a disagreement.
Friend: What disagreement?
Me: They apparently have a clique, and I'm not willing to be apart of one, so I'm not going to go.

Now Readers, instinct told me that girls run in packs. Kind of like dogs. And we like drama. So, I was going to watch what I said. They were the enemy, and I wasn't going to give them anything to turn it around.

I added as cheerfully as I could muster: Hope there's no hard feelings, though. You guys have a good time.
Friend (sighing): Alright, well...don't be a stranger.
Me (fake laughing): I won't, promise.


Like clockwork, about 10 minutes later, Instigator, Bible Thumper, and Attitude were knocking at my door. Apparently, the good ole Friend had me on speaker phone (without me knowing).

Attitude: Hey, I heard what you said and I just wanted to apologize.

That's right, Readers, they began to apologize. The excuses ranged from "No, no, we really don't want to think of ourselves as a clique" to teary-eyed Bible Thumper's "Honestly, I don't want to lose any friends over something like this...". I listened, nodded when appropriate, and allowed them to feel like they were making a difference. But in my mind, they had been reduced to acquaintances. People that I spoke to in passing (and later on, participated in some of my film assignments). I had no more love for them. After all, Mama always said, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Attention

Attention Shoppers:

I'M BACK (WITH GOODIES A.K.A. MORE STORIES)!!!

Also, the Cream of Wheat is on sale....check out Aisle 9 for super savings today!


That is all.

Love,
College Chronicler

MIA for a few days

Hey Readers,

Oops, forgot to tell you that I'll be in the South for a few days. I know, I know. You don't have to all weep at once...I'll be back God willing, I promise! Sorry to keep you waiting on the 3rd part of Saved Sinners!!!


xoxo,
College Chronicler

Feeling Inadequate....

Wow. You know, I've never claimed to be a Sex Diva or anything, but reading Over Educated Nympho's "A Proper Threesome Takes Nine Courses" has caused me to re-evaluate my sex life. Whoa. I think I need to go lie down....

The Saved Sinners, Pt. 2

As I was saying before, they only wanted to roast me in person.

I met up with them in the lobby of our dorms and we laughed, played nice and made our way to the mall. Our mission was to find skanky outfits for a major party that was happening the next night. During the bus trip there, I sat quietly and listened to them giggle and talk about this and that (complete nonsense), not wanting to disrupt the peace I had created. At the mall, Ms. Attitude put on her Ms. America smile and helped me piece together something scandalous, us laughing and her taking time out of her shopping.

Then we split up and Denouncer, Instigator and I went bra shopping. All in all, we were all having a great time. On the way back, the girls all sat to one side of the bus and I sat on the other. I don't know how we even got on the subject of my picture, but sure enough, we did and I was once again defending myself.

"Hey, I just want to know, is you gay or what?" Instigator asked, her eyebrows raised.
"No, I'm not gay," I laughed it off. They kept firing questions at me, and finally I snapped, "You know what? Y'all are being very childish and petty right now!"

Readers, they had the nerve to look surprised, like "Who, me?!"!!! I watched in disbelief as they looked at me like I was crazy and Denouncer said, "Wait, you really think we're childish?" As if by some fucking chance another group of girls had appeared and I was talking about them. I stood my ground.

"Yeah, I do."
"But how? What makes us childish and petty?"
"This. This whole argument is very childish."
"But how does this make us petty?"
"By going back and forth about something that's as trivial as this, you become petty." She kept asking me the same thing and the more back and forth we went, the more irritated I became, and it was showing my voice. "And furthermore, what's this whole getting smart thing?"

"No one said you were getting smart!" Denouncer and the rest of the girls said.
I pointed to Ms. Attitude. "She did yesterday--"
"--wait a minute now!" Attitude interrupted me, yelling. "All I said was that you could have just answered the question instead of catching an attitude with me!"

I shook my head and looked at her like she had lost her damn mind. "Attitude, we were on A-I-M!!! How would you know if I was getting an attitude with you?!" My voice was raised now, and we were both yelling.

"That is a good point," Instigator said, popping her gum, "sometimes things seem different online."

Readers, NO SHIT!!! Everyone who has ever typed out a sentence online should know that, right?

"My point is," I said, trying to control my voice (it was now beginning to shake with anger), "when I wrote, 'You need to get a man' on Facebook I added 'LOL' to show that I didn't have hard feelings--"

"--NAW!!!" they all cried at once, shaking their heads. "You were catching an attitude!"

"Oh my GOD!!!" I yelled back. "Do you hear yourselves? Once again, how was I catching an attitude through Facebook?"

"See, you getting an attitude now," yelled Attitude.

"What?!" I yelled back, outraged. I wasn't getting an attitude, I was wondering how the fuck these chicks made it to college! I mean, I'm all for Affirmative Action, but damn! The University couldn't do better than this?

"Yeah, you are," added Bible Thumper. The whole time she had been nodding her head and agreeing with her croonies. "I mean...it may not seem that way to you, but sometimes you say things that are not cool and it sounds like you're getting smart."

"Like when?" I asked, huffing.

It was obvious that they had been rehearsing this part, and these are the examples they gave me:

1) One day some girls (including the Saved Sinners) and I were supposed to be going to the mall.
About 15 of them were already in the lobby, waiting for me and a few others. As I walked up, I grinned at the sight: the lobby is mainly white and beige, and then you pan over to a huge group of color, ranging from various shades of browns. I said this as I walked up, laughing and they were confused but didn't seem offended. I just took it as a joke that went over their heads or something. No biggie. We went to the mall and had a good time, as planned.

"You see, no one thought that comment you made was funny," Denouncer said. Everyone looked at me pointedly, and I tried to explain what I meant by it.

"I wasn't trying to offend, I was just saying it was funny to see so much brown in the lobby."

2) The second example had to deal with the N-word. Apparently, they didn't appreciate it when I called them "Negroes". However, it was acceptable to use the infamous "nigger". Now, I'm an intellectual. And to me, and those of my friends that are on my level, the word "nigger" is highly offensive. I don't like it in rap music, I don't like it when people talk. "Negroes" on the other hand, was what African Americans were commonly called in the Civil Rights era. If you walk up to any black person today and ask them which is more offensive, "nigger" or "Negro", which one do you think they'd pick? The Saved Sinners, though, did not appreciate such history.

"I'm sorry, " Attitude said, "I just don't want to be called a 'negro'." The rest agreed with her. "I hear enough about the color of my skin and don't want to hear that!"

Everyone was bobbing their heads up and down.

Disgusted, I shrugged. "Okay, that's fine. From now on, I won't make jokes about us being black and I won't call you 'negroes'. That's fine. Is there anything else that upsets you?" They listed off a few more things, most reverting back to the way I "sound like I'm getting smart with them". I nodded, just through with the whole thing. While they were talking, I was thinking, This is some bullshit on rye bread. What...the...fuck...is...wrong...with...these....bitches? Is it me? Do I attract ignorance like this with a big sign on my forehead?

I tried to mention something that was bothering me. "Attitude, I can't even say something or make a point without you yelling or jumping down my throat." I said it in a calm voice, knowing she would blow up, and hoping to put emphasis on my point.

Like clockwork, she snapped, "I do not get an attitude, I'm just saying!" Oh, sister girl was working some serious pissed-off vibes and the rest didn't seem bothered by it. She began the trademark angry black woman prayer. "Loooorrrdd, just let me get off this bus, please before I hurt somebody's feelings..."

We all quieted down, each in our own thoughts.

Now that they were satisfied with grilling me, we all went to another friend's room and they sat and chat. I didn't open my mouth the whole time and wouldn't sit down. Not only was I pissed off beyond what I'd thought I would ever be, the hurt was beginning to seep down as well. These were supposed to be my girls, my sistas. And they didn't know shit from the toilet. They were immature, and even worse, stupid. I felt let down in a way, as if I had been subjected to the highest betrayal.

I think out of all of them, Bible Thumper knew deep down she was wrong. I kept meeting her eyes across the room, and they were projecting a subtle apology. Attitude had the nerve to ask, "Did you want to sit down?" in a not too friendly way, after I had been standing for about 30 minutes. I shook my head with a thin smile and kept to myself. Even now, I wonder why I didn't leave. I think it was pride, I wasn't going to show complete defeat until I was back in my own room with the door closed and locked.

We left later on that night, and went our separate ways. I gave dry "goodbyes" and went to my room. My heart was hurting at this point. I climbed in bed, called Boyfriend, cried to him until I fell asleep. But the ripples of something like that go far and wide. And so the story doesn't end here. Tomorrow I'll tell you how the after effects were fucking with my peace of mind....