What More Can I Say

So I recently started watching the Showtime show The L Word. And I TOTALLY have a new girl crush. Meet Shane McCutcheon aka Kate Moennig in real life. I love love love her in the show and possibly in real life . She’s the hot throb androgynous lesbo on the show, who has girls stalking her left and right, even though she pretty much f*cks them (lesbian secks is a topic for another day) and leaves them. Apparently I’m not alone with my crush, because a recent google search showed that she has fans gushing over her all over the place. I think it’s about time to them to step off. She has a new girlfriend fan…… Moi!!!!

Is that these white boys better stop giving me the eye, flirting, and smiling at me before I swoop one of them up.

That is all.

Hands down, THE sexiest song out right now.

I like my coffee the color of my skin – caramel, like a latte. Now that last sentence has nothing to do with the rest of this entry. Sue me.

I wonder if people understand that it’s not nice to call skinny people skinny. Growing up I heard the word skinny used to describe me all the freaking time. And I hated it every.single.time. In a time where “I like big butts” was the national black anthem; it wasn’t cool to be skinny. For years I NEVER wore skirts/dresses. I barely wore shorts and only did so because it would get so hot in the summer. And let’s even talk about Keds. Yall remember Keds, don’t act like you don’t. They made your feet look like they were boats. Boat feet + skinny legs = not cool.

I can’t recall the exact age I was, but I became determined to thicken myself up. Every morning before school, I would drink a chocolate shake, and throughout the day I would eat all of the junk food I could get my hands on. My mom packed my lunch every day. But in my eyes it was too healthy, so instead I “upgraded” to the not so healthy cafeteria food, praying that the scale would go above 110 lbs. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I just could not gain weight. I had a slight break through when I started working at the local chicken joint and actually got up to 115. I was ecstatic!!!

Somewhere in between the 10th and 11th grade, I just stopped caring and realized I had the body I had and the only thing I could do was accept it. And it honestly became one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Over the years, I learned that when people made snide remarks such as, “Oh you’re so skinny. I just want to feed you”, they were actually projecting their own insecurities on me. And as much as I wanted to say back “Maybe you should actually do the opposite of eating”, I usually just smiled and said “Be careful, don’t let my size fool you. I will eat you out of a house and home. I just have a high metabolism”.

I don’t think I will ever have a scale in my house. I have a general idea of how much I weigh, but I refuse to be hung up on numbers. I love my body and have been taking steps to take better care of it because it’s the only one that I have. And oh yeah, I am also a slight exhibitionist.

I’ve never observed Lent, but at the last minute, I decided to this year. What did I decide to give up, one may ask – why the snooze button!!! Yeah yeah I know the snooze button doesn‘t do one any good and that you don‘t get real sleep when you hit it. All of that doesn‘t matter because I‘m addicted to it like its name is crack!!

Now I would love to say that I have been successful and given it up. But I haven’t. What I HAVE been able to do is trick myself into getting up earlier in the morning. I set the alarm half an hour earlier than normal and only allow myself to hit the snooze twice versus the minimum four times I had been hitting it. And I’ve actually been getting up following along with a work out dvd. *gasp* I am surprised and ecstatic that thus far I have been able to commit to this new morning routine <del> never mind that I may miss a day or two throughout the week </del>. Not only that, but I reintroduced myself to the neighbor track/park this weekend.

On to Denise Austin aka The Bitch. In my quest to get fit, I decided that every week I would get a work out DVD from the library to mix in with the initial yoga video I used. I may even eventually work myself up to going to the gym, but for now it’s all about the baby steps. So on Saturday while at the library, I came across Denise Austen’s cardio workout video. Now this was my first time meeting Denise and I thought she looked perky and cute, as if she would make a great work out partner. That is until we got acquainted in my living room.

To begin with, Denise had a husky voice. One that made me briefly question whether Denise may have actually been Dennis in a previous life. And then <del> Dennis </del> Denise had the nerve to act as if I just knew what her next move would be. It’s like damn bytch, I just got the hang of this move and we’re on to the next one already. AND you want me to remember the past 4 moves that you rushed through, put them together to make a routine of them??? Oh hell naw. Just because you and your “workout friends” knew the routine ahead of time, doesn’t mean I know it. And don’t think I didn’t peep how you stole Jane Fonda’s routines. I used to watch my mama’s old JF’s videos and you are straight jacking her style. At one point I had the blinds open in the living room, but when I saw how ridiculous I looked trying to follow her, I quickly closed them. Ugh!

Denise Austin better hope I never see her in the streets, because we may end up fighting. Me and her will never be friends. Matter of fact, I’m trading her in tomorrow. Ol’ husky voice Jane Fonda wanna be. You can miss me with that bs!

Why are cocktails called cocktails? Is it because the consumption of them leads to the pursuit of cocks and tails??? Just wondering.

While reading this book, I came across this quote that I found rather interesting. I won’t tell you the name of the book just yet because I want to hear your thoughts and then tie it to another quote from the same book in a future post – possibly tomorrow. So the quote goes “Fathers always want you to measure up to something. Mothers are the ones who love you unconditionally”. Is this true?

Looking back on my earlier years, I am inclined to agree with the quote. Without a doubt, my mother loves me unconditionally. The good, the bad, the pretty and the ugly. She’s also my biggest cheerleader and will support me in ANYTHING that I do. And that’s not to say that my father doesn’t do the same, because he does. He too loves all parts of me. I’m his big baby (which he still calls me that to this day) and my sister is his little baby. But what cannot be denied, is that throughout my life, there are things that we hid from my daddy. My daddy never knew how much I skipped school, or that I phucked up the door on his car and I refused to come home from school for about a month until it was fixed (we won’t talk about how Maaco painted the door a different color from the rest of the car and I prayed he wouldn’t notice). He didn’t know that I flat out totaled a rental car, or got arrested for, well we won’t get into that story. The bottom line is there are things that to this day, he doesn’t know about his sweet and innocent V (although he does know I am far from innocent LOL). The point is, when sh*t went wrong, it was my mother who I never hesitated to call, and who suggested we “not tell your daddy”. Is it because subconsciously we knew he wanted us to measure up to an ideal that he had for us? I understand that little girls are different from little boys, and daddies treat them differently. But even with boys, don’t fathers want their sons to “measure up” to something while mothers love unconditionally?

And taking this a step further, do we love our parents differently? Do we love our mothers unconditionally, while we hold our fathers to different standards and expect them to measure up to the ideal man? Would we be more forgiving of our mothers than we would our fathers?

Blood. That is the question. The Hoxworth blood center is signing people up at for a blood drive today. I really want to give, but I’m hesitant to do so. And you know why, because I hate the site of blood!! I’ve never passed out before, but I come very close to doing so whenever I see blood. Matter of fact I HATE the word bleed, it gives me the heebie jeebies!! Not only that, but every single time I give, something goes wrong.

About a year ago, I went ahead and signed up. Do you know I walked on the mobile bus, and somehow they had spilled blood on the floor and was covering it up with some type of saw dust shyt. What the phuck?!?!?! Why did they let me on, knowing there was a blood spill in aisle 4?? I was utterly horrified and grossed out.

And apparently my blood “runs slow”. Meaning 3 people have given blood in the time span that it takes me to give my measly one pint. And it just feels weird to me to sit there squeezing that punk azz stress ball they with hopes to make my blood pump faster. Ugh! I’m getting disgusted typing this out.

Yet, despite my apprehensions, I think I’ma go ahead take one for the team and do it for the kids! It won’t make me any less scared. And besides, I’m tired of them calling, leaving messages on my mama’s answering machine saying they’re short on blood supplies. If I pass out though, I’m filing worker’s comp!

Did I ever tell yall about the time my vitamins impregnated me? No seriously they did.

It all started when I realized I sucked at taking vitamins. I kept finding damn near full bottles of vitamins – in my car trunk, old purses, medicine cabinets, basically any and everywhere. So I decided in the morning when I had my daily dose of green tea, I would take my multi-vitamin. Let me add that I cannot eat when I first wake up. Since this story occured prior to my pre-Lent experiment (future post), there was usually a 30-45 minute interval between the time I rolled out of the bed and  stepped out of the door. 

So Monday morning, as I took my last swig of green tea, I popped in the vitamin and headed out the door. On the drive to work, I got soooooo nauseous. When I arrived I ate some toast, and thankfully the nausea subsided. The next day same thing, green tea + vitamin. This time I  stopped at the store on the way to work and while in there a wave of nausea hit me. It was so bad that I set my purchase down and ran to the bathroom thinking I was going to throw up. I didn’t, but I got scared. Scared that I was knocked up and experiencing morning sickness.

The drive to work had me racking my brain trying to figure out if I was preggo. Nevermind that at the time the possibility of me being preggo, would have been some Virgin Mary type ish , I just kept thinking about how I’d heard of women who still got their period while pregnant. Once I got to work, googling pregnancy symptoms did not ease my fears. They intensified them. OMG I thought, my boobs are sore, and they do seem bigger, and is that slight implementation cramping I feel. Do I need a lawyer, because <del> Trojan </del> someone is definitely getting sued? I’M NOT READY TO BE A MOMMY!!

Throughout the day my thoughts were all over the place. I tried to calm myself and figured I would see how it went the next morning. Same thing. By the week’s end I was a mental basket case. I found myself studying my belly in the mirror, thinking my baby gut did in fact look fuller than usual. Aint this a bytch, I thought, me and my sister are going to be preggo at the same time. At least we can maybe raise them as sisters. Or better yet, maybe I can convince my sister that she needs/wants two babies!

It wasn’t until that Friday when my co worker and I went down for coffee that I made the connection. She mentioned that she needed some oatmeal before taking her pills since she hadn’t eaten breakfast at home. It was then that I had an epiphany- the muthafing vitamins had impregnated me. Damn the man!

My name is V, V to the – aha fooled you. You thought I was really going to rap didn’t cha!?!?! Another day grasshopper, another day.

Soooo I have so much randomness in my head, and felt it was only right to go ahead and share it with the world. Don’t come here expecting to see anything extremely deep and thought provoking. That’s not to say that it can’t/won’t happen, I just wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up. I just needed a space where I could be me. I may update multiple times a day. I may not update at all. Expect the unexpected!

Yeah I’ve never been that great with introductions or whatnot, so I think I’m about done with this.