DeJa Vu

dé·jà vu:
(Pronounced dey-zhah voo, vyoo; Fr. dey-zha vy)

1. Psychology. the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time.
2. disagreeable familiarity or sameness.
3. A hit song released in 1979 by singer Teena Marie, she of the blue-eyed soul fame.
4. A hit song released in 2006 by singer Beyonce, she of the "uh oh oh no" fame. Said song was curiously not about the feeling of deja vu at all.
5. What I am experiencing RIGHT now.

At exactly this time last year, I was groovin. I was 'dating' (I use the term loosely) an older guy, my young guy was in town for a few weeks and, then, I met a fairly decent, really good looking guy. Then the world crumbled around me, in so many ways. It would be too much work to detail everything here. But just know that I was on the top and then I hit bottom (the hitting bottom had nothing to do with either of these men but I'd be remiss if I did not accurately recall the exact chain of events).

What does this have to do with anything?

Well, I recently started 'dating' this slightly older guy (I use the term loosely). Last week, I get a call from my young guy...he's in town. Of course this freaked me out. It is literally, to the day, that I was in a very similar situation last year. If history is in fact repeating itself, I know what to expect in about a week and a half.

So I'm in hiding. Yup. I've drastically cut back on public appearances. Call me crazy if you want, but I am a HAUNTED person. I know this about myself: the ghosts of my past are always chasing me. I, for one, am sick of it. Yes. I am a punk. And I am okay with that.

Until this feeling of deja vu passes, I will only make late night appearances once a week. Sad because I will not be going to my favorite spot (going to the one across the street instead. Ha!). I'll spend my time at home, browsing the Humane Society website, looking at pics of kitties who need a good home and listening to this, on repeat:



**A note about the photo for this post: In the Matrix, Neo mentions that he saw a black cat walk by and then another one that looked just like it walked by soon after. Trinity told him that it was deja vu and that deja vu happens when there is a glitch in the matrix. Yes. I am a geek.**

Why Chicks Get Dumped

I have two brothers, one older and one younger. Over the years, they have unknowingly taught me valuable lessons about male/female relationships. Specifically: what not to do if you want to keep your man. I am in a generous mood so I will share a few of these tips.

My older brother cites two main reasons for ending his 10-year relationship with his common law wife/mother of his two children. He always cites them in the same order, as follows:

1. His beloved dog died, while in her care, while he was on vacation. The dog was a pit bull and, though his name was Satan spelled backwards, he was a docile pup, one who believed himself to be a poodle. While on a trip home to New Orleans, he left the dog with his woman. She, being slightly retarded (can you tell I never liked her?) took this dog to a friend's house. This friend had a pit bull also. A male. Any one with a squirrel's brain knows this is a recipe for disaster. The younger dog (Natas was 10) basically mauled my brother's four legged child. To make matters worse, his hood chick didn't even tell him till he got home the dog had died. Lesson: if your man leaves you with something he truly values, guard it with your life. It is a test. If you fail, it will seal your fate.

2. He'd come home from work and the kids would be in stained tees eating Ramen noodles from the tray on their strollers. My brother worked while his chick went back to school for her R.N. degree. She got home most days around 3. He got in just after 6. He was always disgusted to come home to see the fruits of his loins dirty and eating high sodium packaged foods. He could not take the fact that the living room was a mess. He knew she had classes but didn't understand why she couldn't pick up some shit and clean up the kids and give them real food for dinner. Lesson: a man likes a woman who takes care of business. Your kids are your business. Take care of them. Taking care of your kids also means making sure they are not running around in a filthy living room.***Side note: my brother now has full custody of these kids. ***

Not sure what it says about my brother that he ALWAYS mentions the dog incident before the unfed/dirty kids issue, but he ended this long-standing relationship, by his own admission, for these reasons. And, in true "why'd you hook up with that chick, ruining our good family name" fashion, she retaliated by breaking into and vandalizing his house.

Things did end up happily: my brother has been in a relationship for the last 3 years with a woman who also has two sons, who made Easter basket for his kids, complete with cotton ball bunny tails and whose kids are clean, well-behaved and well-fed. We even got a surprise nephew out of the deal (these fools are old enough to know betta but, hey, a baby is a blessing).

Learn from other's mistakes or you too will become a resident of Dumpsville. If you are allergic to learning shit and acting right, get yoself a cat.

Single girl's song of the week: I'd Rather Be Alone

Actually, I'd rather have a cat than be unhappy. But, being alone is still a better alternative to wastin' time on a lame ass dude who does not appreciate, say, your quick wit, your phat shoe wardrobe, your high sex drive, your love of football and beer and your ability to whip up a mean crawfish etouffee.

Maybe it's me...

Some days...hell, most days, I feel that I am wearing some sort sign that says "Are you crazy? If so, holla!"

Case in point: tonight after an evening of drinks, political and workplace discussions with smart, funny people, I am driving home. Driving, in my car...minding my own business.

At a red light, I hear a honk. I ignore it. I hear another honk. So I look over...there's a guy, in a Cadillac Escalade, trying to get my attention. I immediately look away. The very fact that he drives an environment destroying, gas guzzling tacky-mobile is a turn off. Never mind that it is 2 a.m. and he is trying to flag down a woman driving alone. Crazy.

When the light turns green, I continue on my way. After about two minutes, I notice he is following me. He changes lanes when I change lanes and turns when I turn. I ended up driving past my home TWICE cuz he wouldn't let up. During this "chase" he continues to yell through his open window "I just wanna to talk to you."

I finally end up pulling over, just in front of a cop car that had stopped another vehicle. I figure the guy wasn't gonna let up, I didn't want to go into my place with him sitting out there, knowing where I lived, so I'd get it over with, hoping the boys in blue would come to my aid if I needed it. **Note: I was NOT going to go to said cops to tell them I was being followed. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. Even when you are asking for help, cops want to run your plates and ish. I don't trust cops like THAT. End note.***

I'm pulled over, hazards on. He comes up to my car. He's short. And he looks old. He's wearing jeans. A printed Rocawear shirt. A baseball cap. A long chain with a large diamond cross. A watch with a diamond crusted bezel. And a diamond pinky ring. I use the word diamond loosely.

I ask him what he wants and tell him that it's 2 a.m. and I don't talk to strangers on the street. He says that he saw my "pretty eyes" and just wanted to get to know me. Get to know me? By chasing down my car???

He first introduces himself as Michael. Two seconds later, he says his name is Sylvester but people call him Sly. Unable to resist, I say "but you said your name was Michael". He says that's what people call me. Being stupid I ask if it's his middle name. He says "no. My mom has just called me Michael since I was a kid." I was already through, but I was too through at that point.

Putting my car into drive, I attempt to pull off but he's leaning in the window at this point, chatting his ass off oblivious to the death stare I am giving him. I was literally willing him to die. Where are those damn magic powers when you need them?

He says he wants to take me to dinner, tells me he's 37 (the negro looked 45 or older) and that he's an investment banker with no kids and likes the theatre, comedy shows and travel.

I thank him for his resume and tell him I need to go. He won't move until I give him a number so I give him a fake one, tell him to call me tomorrow and "yeah. I'd love dinner." I figured playing along would get me to my house without him pulling up behind me.

He takes the fake number and thanks me for my time, promising we'll have fun.

I pull off and wonder...what is it about ME that attracts these ignant mo fos? This is NOT the first time this has happened to me.

Why would ANY man think this is an acceptable way to approach women?

How do I get rid of the "I love crazies" sign that is posted to my forehead?


Man=0, Cat = 123,590,212

Dirty Talk...

As promised, I am going to divulge some of the dirty talk that the impotent compulsive jimmy whacker tossed my way during our laughable romp.

To be fair, I am also gonna share some of the nonsense I've heard over the years. It's comedy, really it is.

Mr. Muscles (aka impotent compulsive jimmy whacker) - I truly believe he was on the 'rhoids -

A lil poetry

Every now and then I dabble in poetry. I usually write about God or politics or love. I mean, what else is there to write about? At the end of the day, all of life's issues boil down to these three things or some combination therein.

Once in a blue moon I will post something, as it relates to the theme of this blog: why one's cat is a much better companion than a man.

Well...the moon is blue! I wrote this a few years ago and edited it recently. Not sure if it's any good but am posting it anyway.

Why is this relevant???

Because it, I think, describes what most people go through when falling in/out of love/lust. Why put yourself through it. Buy a kitten instead.
-------------------------------------

The Things You Do To Me

I shatter into little pieces

Every time you inhale.

I watch

And wish

That you too were full

Of this all-consuming thing

That lives inside of me,

Cluttering my brain,

Driving me to distraction.

I am ground into powder

With every contented breath you release.

Single girl's song of the week: The Boss

A blast from the past. Enjoy.