So I feel the need to share a story from last night to get some feedback so I can make a final determination as to how I feel about this whole situation. I invited my girl out last night to this BET pre-party at club Royale. It ended up being a bigger deal than anticipated. So my girl gets to my house and is like UGH! I'm like UGH what?!?!? She's like, you don't know how to have a boyfriend. I'm like what are you talking about? Now it would have been reasonable for her to be referencing the fact that I spend a whole lot of time with my dude and rarely see her and/or talk to her anymore. There's more to that story but I'll just move on. So, I'm like WHAT!!!!! She's like, what do you have on...why do you have so many clothes on...you look like somebody's wife (exactly)...like you have a family waiting for you at home (what I strive for, duh). Ok and what exactly do you want me to do with this information! So I took it to mean she didn't like what I had on!!! She's like, look what I'm wearing...this is all I'm wearing, displaying a cute little green number, I ain't mad! Now the fact that I didn't laugh should have at least been a hint but no she continues to slam my outfit. I'm like dang "that's not nice....and well I thought I looked cute when I got dressed." What the fuck are you trying to say?!?!?! So she finally got wind that I wasn't feeling her commentary and she's like, oh well your shirt is cute. Um a tad bit too late sweetie. So I was completely detached the whole night. Didn't really want to go in the first place and was really irritated now that my homegirl basically pumped me all the way down. Who wants to hear that shit on the way out?!?!? Was I suppose to change my clothes to appease her? I didn't and didn't find any problem with guys trying to hollah. That's gonna happen regardless. I don't need to be naked to have ninjas on my team. So anywho, the night was kind of a bust but what's funny is I just saw pictures from the party on wireimage and I'm like wow...all that happened?! I stayed my ass in the corner all night not wanting to be bothered. My beautiful sis showed up and kind of bridged the gap. After my boo got there I focused all my attention on him and tried leave that other situation alone because I was quite perturbed. Again I ask, who does that???
I add to MY THINGS TO DO LIST, next time I don't like something my "friend" is wearing, be very vocal about it just before we go out! WTF!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Baby Mama's..................
Y’all don’t get it twisted; this is surely not an anthem praising those whom we now refer to as “Baby Mama’s.” This is more of a support group for those of us who have to deal with these biatches! Let’s start by defining what exactly a Baby Mama is. Simply put, a Baby Mama is someone who has had a child out of wedlock. For whatever reason, she opted to have a child without being married to his or her father. In my experience, 90% of Baby Mama’s are not with their child’s father, hence the term Baby Mama derived by Baby Daddy's for lack of better verbiage to describe the woman who is now giving their present girlfriends all kinds of ridiculous drama. Now there are at least 3 different types of Baby Mama Drama; equally stressful yet some more manageable than others.
Situation #1, we’ll call it “Baby Mama I got my own Drama” – this kind of situation involves a Baby Mama whom has since moved on and started a new life with someone else and only involves your boyfriend a/k/a her Baby Daddy for money and babysitting services. This Baby Mama, or BM, typically has a job, makes decent money, can’t stand her Baby Daddy, but chooses the high road and wants her child to have a father so she deals with him in doses. She allows visitation and collects a check every now and again for the hard work she puts in on a regular basis. Now this chick I can deal with. If it didn’t work out with y’all, the intelligent thing to do is move on and not hold a grudge for the rest of your life. You both are equally responsible and should share the responsibility accordingly. It is not necessary to curse his name at every given moment and attempt to make his life miserable just because you are now miserable. She is now more concerned that her new man is drinking all the babies milk, sitting on the couch playing Madden and expecting dinner when she gets home from a long day’s work. But I can’t even get into that because that’s a problem in and of itself (she needs to figure out why her pussy is attracting these types of guys but whatever). Like I said, this situation I can deal with.
Situation #2, we’ll call it “Baby Mama thought he was the one and now that maybe he’s not I don’t know what to do Drama” - A little more complicated and extremely hard to deal with. Now this chick had the child thinking that she was going to marry her Baby Daddy and live happily ever after. Not! So for whatever reason, they didn’t work out. Maybe he cheated, maybe he combed her hair, maybe she wasn’t satisfying him so he had to look elsewhere, maybe she was so fucking pressed that she stressed him the fuck out and pushed him away. So she still loves him, and him her, but she can’t get over the bullshit that occurred in the relationship. He feels guilty so he showers her with gifts, pays her phone bill, her car is in his name, spends most holidays with the “family,” always answers her phone calls and she doesn’t know anything about you. However, because he presently ain’t getting no ass from his BM (they’ve probably had sex 2-3x since they’ve been broken up), he has moved on and is getting it somewhere else. So he has a quasi-relationship with the chick he fucks but can’t commit to anything because he just might try and make his “family” work for the sake of the kids. So you’re caught in a no win situation cause now you have fallen in love with him. You love and respect him so much that one day when she popped up at his apartment you hid out in the spare bedroom until she left. Or you tend to keep quiet when he’s on the phone with her. Or you see her friends out at a club and you’re okay with being introduced as his client. So now you are pressed about having a relationship with him and he can’t give you a fucking answer cause he is waiting on her to decide whether she will take him back and in that case you’re shit out of luck! Your chances are not good so play at your own risk!
Situation #3, we’ll call it “Baby Mama he belongs to me forever Drama” – This situation is pointless and I suggest you run for the hills. So this chick thinks that her Baby Daddy belongs to her and that as long as she has a say she will never allow him to be happy with another woman. So she pops up at his crib, at his job, at the club and sometimes maybe even at your job. She found out who you were because the last time she was at his crib she got your number out of his 2way while he was in the bathroom. She calls you and asks why you are ruining her life. She leaves notes on your car after you’ve spent the night calling you a ho and a home wrecker. She dope fiend you in the club and at that time you didn’t even know who she was. She found your myspace page and has her friends send you messages. He trys to stay out of it because he enjoys the drama and ultimately loves his BM and doesn’t care enough about you to stop her disrespect. You are never invited to family functions because the BM has an open invitation. He tells you his BM is crazy but doesn’t do anything to stop the madness. Very clear signs that he doesn’t love you but yet you continue to take the abuse because you’ve never been fucked like that before. No dick is worth all this so just let her have his trifling ass!
Now if your situation falls into one of these categories, which is by no means exhausted, you have many options. You can leave. I know it will hurt now but in the long run you might be better off. How much do you have to suffer before you realize enough is enough? In most cases, he loves his BM, and how can he not love the woman who bore his child. He feels guilty for all the hurt that he’s caused her and will sometimes dedicate his life to making up for his mistakes even if it costs him his own happiness. Sometimes his trifling ways should be enough for you to leave him alone and move on to bigger and better things. No man is worth all that. If we cared about ourselves more maybe we wouldn’t put up with bullshit. I find that women who come from two parent homes are less likely to deal with nonsense. They know what it means for a man to truly love a woman and expect that for their own lives. Sometimes I feel that woman without kids are better off with men without kids albeit a man without children is not the norm in our society. Because men’s lives typically don’t change when they have children they are much more likely to have them starting at a very young age. Comedians, TV shows, people in general, laugh of this epidemic of Baby Mama Drama but if you’re living it you are less likely to think the shit is funny. Matters of the heart are not funny. It doesn’t feel good to know that one woman will always have an edge over you. No matter how much you try you can never compete. You’ve lost before you’ve even started. Who wants to play a game that you can’t win. Why waste the time?
Is Baby Mama Drama worth it?
Additionally, and in response to Anonymous' comment, I'd like to salute those BMs who have chosen to put their children's happiness first. Obviously this rant of mine does not speak to every BM/BD situation out there. No offense to those of y'all who aren't presently making my life a living hell!
I add to my THINGS TO DO LIST, after this one -- never date a man with children!
Situation #1, we’ll call it “Baby Mama I got my own Drama” – this kind of situation involves a Baby Mama whom has since moved on and started a new life with someone else and only involves your boyfriend a/k/a her Baby Daddy for money and babysitting services. This Baby Mama, or BM, typically has a job, makes decent money, can’t stand her Baby Daddy, but chooses the high road and wants her child to have a father so she deals with him in doses. She allows visitation and collects a check every now and again for the hard work she puts in on a regular basis. Now this chick I can deal with. If it didn’t work out with y’all, the intelligent thing to do is move on and not hold a grudge for the rest of your life. You both are equally responsible and should share the responsibility accordingly. It is not necessary to curse his name at every given moment and attempt to make his life miserable just because you are now miserable. She is now more concerned that her new man is drinking all the babies milk, sitting on the couch playing Madden and expecting dinner when she gets home from a long day’s work. But I can’t even get into that because that’s a problem in and of itself (she needs to figure out why her pussy is attracting these types of guys but whatever). Like I said, this situation I can deal with.
Situation #2, we’ll call it “Baby Mama thought he was the one and now that maybe he’s not I don’t know what to do Drama” - A little more complicated and extremely hard to deal with. Now this chick had the child thinking that she was going to marry her Baby Daddy and live happily ever after. Not! So for whatever reason, they didn’t work out. Maybe he cheated, maybe he combed her hair, maybe she wasn’t satisfying him so he had to look elsewhere, maybe she was so fucking pressed that she stressed him the fuck out and pushed him away. So she still loves him, and him her, but she can’t get over the bullshit that occurred in the relationship. He feels guilty so he showers her with gifts, pays her phone bill, her car is in his name, spends most holidays with the “family,” always answers her phone calls and she doesn’t know anything about you. However, because he presently ain’t getting no ass from his BM (they’ve probably had sex 2-3x since they’ve been broken up), he has moved on and is getting it somewhere else. So he has a quasi-relationship with the chick he fucks but can’t commit to anything because he just might try and make his “family” work for the sake of the kids. So you’re caught in a no win situation cause now you have fallen in love with him. You love and respect him so much that one day when she popped up at his apartment you hid out in the spare bedroom until she left. Or you tend to keep quiet when he’s on the phone with her. Or you see her friends out at a club and you’re okay with being introduced as his client. So now you are pressed about having a relationship with him and he can’t give you a fucking answer cause he is waiting on her to decide whether she will take him back and in that case you’re shit out of luck! Your chances are not good so play at your own risk!
Situation #3, we’ll call it “Baby Mama he belongs to me forever Drama” – This situation is pointless and I suggest you run for the hills. So this chick thinks that her Baby Daddy belongs to her and that as long as she has a say she will never allow him to be happy with another woman. So she pops up at his crib, at his job, at the club and sometimes maybe even at your job. She found out who you were because the last time she was at his crib she got your number out of his 2way while he was in the bathroom. She calls you and asks why you are ruining her life. She leaves notes on your car after you’ve spent the night calling you a ho and a home wrecker. She dope fiend you in the club and at that time you didn’t even know who she was. She found your myspace page and has her friends send you messages. He trys to stay out of it because he enjoys the drama and ultimately loves his BM and doesn’t care enough about you to stop her disrespect. You are never invited to family functions because the BM has an open invitation. He tells you his BM is crazy but doesn’t do anything to stop the madness. Very clear signs that he doesn’t love you but yet you continue to take the abuse because you’ve never been fucked like that before. No dick is worth all this so just let her have his trifling ass!
Now if your situation falls into one of these categories, which is by no means exhausted, you have many options. You can leave. I know it will hurt now but in the long run you might be better off. How much do you have to suffer before you realize enough is enough? In most cases, he loves his BM, and how can he not love the woman who bore his child. He feels guilty for all the hurt that he’s caused her and will sometimes dedicate his life to making up for his mistakes even if it costs him his own happiness. Sometimes his trifling ways should be enough for you to leave him alone and move on to bigger and better things. No man is worth all that. If we cared about ourselves more maybe we wouldn’t put up with bullshit. I find that women who come from two parent homes are less likely to deal with nonsense. They know what it means for a man to truly love a woman and expect that for their own lives. Sometimes I feel that woman without kids are better off with men without kids albeit a man without children is not the norm in our society. Because men’s lives typically don’t change when they have children they are much more likely to have them starting at a very young age. Comedians, TV shows, people in general, laugh of this epidemic of Baby Mama Drama but if you’re living it you are less likely to think the shit is funny. Matters of the heart are not funny. It doesn’t feel good to know that one woman will always have an edge over you. No matter how much you try you can never compete. You’ve lost before you’ve even started. Who wants to play a game that you can’t win. Why waste the time?
Is Baby Mama Drama worth it?
Additionally, and in response to Anonymous' comment, I'd like to salute those BMs who have chosen to put their children's happiness first. Obviously this rant of mine does not speak to every BM/BD situation out there. No offense to those of y'all who aren't presently making my life a living hell!
I add to my THINGS TO DO LIST, after this one -- never date a man with children!
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
The truth about cats and dogs!
So I wanted to speak briefly on the idea of fellatio and cunnilingus in 2007; have you improved, remained the same, or stopped doing it altogether! Is it okay to not have perfected your technique at...let's say 30?!?! Are you still grossed out by the thought of it! Do you wish you could take a class in it?!?! Is it hindering your ability to have good sex?!?!?! Are you too afraid to even talk about it?!?!?!
Let's be realistic here, if you're 25 or better, the reality is you've done it and probably have a lot more of doing it ahead of you. If you're still grossed out by the thought of it I suggest you order a few pornos online (cause I know you're not brave enough to rent one at the video store) and pay very close attention to what's going on. You are not my kinda girl/guy so I propose you come back to me when you've learned a thing or two!
Moving on....WHAT!!
Now it is my sincere belief that with each experience you should learn something to take with you on your journey through life, up to and including figuring out how to make your lover scream your name when giving him/her oral pleasure.
Females, you should learn (1) which of his other areas to manipulate while you are sucking him up, (2) how deep can you take it, (3) how wet can you keep it, (4) humming on it is well taken, (5) talking to it makes it talk back, and (6) looking good while you're doing it is an added bonus. Every man loves good brain and I ain't talking about book smarts. Practice makes perfect so ladies I suggest whichever man you are with right now (choose 1 please biatches!!) and go to work. Be totally uninhibited. Move it up down sideways and diagonal. Slap it flip it rub it down...learn the magic tricks...go for it anywhere anytime anyhow...and if you have a small mouth I propose extracting your back molars so you can get a more few inches ("others" ya'll don't have to worry about this, hehe). Not only will your present boo LOVE you to death but you will get the practice you need to successfully sustain a marriage.
Men, you need to learn, (1) WHICH area needs to be stimulated (and I can tell you it is not the lips), (2) how to avoid missing the boat ENTIRELY, (3) if you're not an expert it will take longer than a minute, (4) we DON'T appreciate the EFFORT, (5) due diligence is well taken, and (6) sometimes we want to be done when you're done! Again, practice makes perfect fellas so keep at it and at some point you'll get it right. Its not as easy as it looks, it takes patience, resourcefulness and a little bit of love. I will say that I've had somebody down there well over 30 minutes without incident. It just got to the point where I said, Fuck it, get up!! I've also had someone that purported NOT to do it, tried it very rarely and was a sheer waste of my time. But hey, what can you do!!!
Bottom line, perfect your technique, seek advice, don't stop trying, and don't get complacent! I add to my THINGS TO DO LIST, see how long I can hold my breathe!!
Let's be realistic here, if you're 25 or better, the reality is you've done it and probably have a lot more of doing it ahead of you. If you're still grossed out by the thought of it I suggest you order a few pornos online (cause I know you're not brave enough to rent one at the video store) and pay very close attention to what's going on. You are not my kinda girl/guy so I propose you come back to me when you've learned a thing or two!
Moving on....WHAT!!
Now it is my sincere belief that with each experience you should learn something to take with you on your journey through life, up to and including figuring out how to make your lover scream your name when giving him/her oral pleasure.
Females, you should learn (1) which of his other areas to manipulate while you are sucking him up, (2) how deep can you take it, (3) how wet can you keep it, (4) humming on it is well taken, (5) talking to it makes it talk back, and (6) looking good while you're doing it is an added bonus. Every man loves good brain and I ain't talking about book smarts. Practice makes perfect so ladies I suggest whichever man you are with right now (choose 1 please biatches!!) and go to work. Be totally uninhibited. Move it up down sideways and diagonal. Slap it flip it rub it down...learn the magic tricks...go for it anywhere anytime anyhow...and if you have a small mouth I propose extracting your back molars so you can get a more few inches ("others" ya'll don't have to worry about this, hehe). Not only will your present boo LOVE you to death but you will get the practice you need to successfully sustain a marriage.
Men, you need to learn, (1) WHICH area needs to be stimulated (and I can tell you it is not the lips), (2) how to avoid missing the boat ENTIRELY, (3) if you're not an expert it will take longer than a minute, (4) we DON'T appreciate the EFFORT, (5) due diligence is well taken, and (6) sometimes we want to be done when you're done! Again, practice makes perfect fellas so keep at it and at some point you'll get it right. Its not as easy as it looks, it takes patience, resourcefulness and a little bit of love. I will say that I've had somebody down there well over 30 minutes without incident. It just got to the point where I said, Fuck it, get up!! I've also had someone that purported NOT to do it, tried it very rarely and was a sheer waste of my time. But hey, what can you do!!!
Bottom line, perfect your technique, seek advice, don't stop trying, and don't get complacent! I add to my THINGS TO DO LIST, see how long I can hold my breathe!!
Monday, April 30, 2007
Let's go get kicked out of Applebee's...WHAT!!
Its been almost a month since my last blog and quite a few events have transpired since. Most couldn't survive a day in my life but hey that's what makes me ME...a certified bombshell gettin wicked in court evidencing my unparalleled passion for justice for all.
Anywho, I'd just like to through this question out there and get some feedback. Why is it when a not so attractive woman roams the earth professing her beauty to anyone who will listen it is regarded as self confidence but for a noticeably attractive woman she is seen as vain??!! Our society is all fucked up! Jealously and envy run deep within our own circles and its really unfortunate more sistahs aren't celebrating each other's beauty as opposed to despising it. It isn't always easy being beautiful. Why must we constantly compare ourselves to what others have accomplished to determine our own worth? Church was particularly interesting on Sunday speaking to all the judgmental folk out there who participate in everything but SELF analysis. If anyone is going to scrutinize you it should be YOU. Spoken like a true pimp...how you gonna let someone tell YOU how YOU feel about YOU SIMPLE BITCH...its called SELF esteem...its esteem of yo mutha fuckin SELF!!
Why do people, women in general, feel the need to let you know about yourself?! Its always the chick with no man giving you advice on your relationship, the chick with no job giving you advice on how to handle your boss, the chick with no style giving you advice on what not to wear, the chick who sleeps with someone on their first encounter giving you advice on why you should break up with your boyfriend because while on business trip he mistakenly slept with some chick from the club after one too many drinks...you get the point right?!?! My suggestion, tell that bitch to fuck off and mind her own business before you comb her hair!! I'm so damn tired of these women with so much negativity to spread around the table but find it almost impossible to compliment a sistah on something positive. Fuck em!
Another point I'd like to touch on this Monday afternoon is whether the old saying "Once a cheater always a cheater" is accurate?? And can men every really be faithful?? And what types of activities are forgivable and which ones aren't?? Most women may find it difficult to relate to my personal thoughts on these issues. I'm not sure whether my directives are easy to follow but I assure you (this statement is not meant to be legally binding bitches) that a little bit goes a long way. One of my really close friends calls me the BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER. At times she requests advice from the old ME as opposed to the new ME. An abundance of trials and tribulations have given me a lot of food for thought and I've chosen to adapt accordingly. Above all else I want to be happily married with a man who wants nothing more than to come home to ME. With that being said I believe there are certain things one must do in order to achieve this goal. I'm a traditionalist when it comes to relationships, I've been domesticated; I cook, clean, run errands, have sex anywhere anytime, and all this is in addition to holding down a REAL job putting in 50-60 hours a week. When he's sad I listen to his problems, when he's mad I ask him what can I do for him, when he's tired I rub his back, when he's frustrated I leave him alone and when he's happy I'm happy. Now I'm sure a few of you are thinking that I must be the craziest woman in America but let me tell you what I get for this sacrifice and I will admit its a sacrifice but one I'm willing to make. I'm with him 24/7, we party together, we eat good in the neighborhood, we talk all the time about any and everything that is going on in our lives, we have a mutual respect for each, he's honest even when it hurts, and I trust wholeheartedly that when he says something he means it. I couldn't ask for a better relationship. A friend just questioned why I don't snoop when I'm alone at his house and I simply stated FOR WHAT!! Why are we so afraid to be happy!! I'm not!!!
I put on my THINGS TO DO LIST...next bitch who asks me anything about my relationship simply ask her WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO KNOW!
Anywho, I'd just like to through this question out there and get some feedback. Why is it when a not so attractive woman roams the earth professing her beauty to anyone who will listen it is regarded as self confidence but for a noticeably attractive woman she is seen as vain??!! Our society is all fucked up! Jealously and envy run deep within our own circles and its really unfortunate more sistahs aren't celebrating each other's beauty as opposed to despising it. It isn't always easy being beautiful. Why must we constantly compare ourselves to what others have accomplished to determine our own worth? Church was particularly interesting on Sunday speaking to all the judgmental folk out there who participate in everything but SELF analysis. If anyone is going to scrutinize you it should be YOU. Spoken like a true pimp...how you gonna let someone tell YOU how YOU feel about YOU SIMPLE BITCH...its called SELF esteem...its esteem of yo mutha fuckin SELF!!
Why do people, women in general, feel the need to let you know about yourself?! Its always the chick with no man giving you advice on your relationship, the chick with no job giving you advice on how to handle your boss, the chick with no style giving you advice on what not to wear, the chick who sleeps with someone on their first encounter giving you advice on why you should break up with your boyfriend because while on business trip he mistakenly slept with some chick from the club after one too many drinks...you get the point right?!?! My suggestion, tell that bitch to fuck off and mind her own business before you comb her hair!! I'm so damn tired of these women with so much negativity to spread around the table but find it almost impossible to compliment a sistah on something positive. Fuck em!
Another point I'd like to touch on this Monday afternoon is whether the old saying "Once a cheater always a cheater" is accurate?? And can men every really be faithful?? And what types of activities are forgivable and which ones aren't?? Most women may find it difficult to relate to my personal thoughts on these issues. I'm not sure whether my directives are easy to follow but I assure you (this statement is not meant to be legally binding bitches) that a little bit goes a long way. One of my really close friends calls me the BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER. At times she requests advice from the old ME as opposed to the new ME. An abundance of trials and tribulations have given me a lot of food for thought and I've chosen to adapt accordingly. Above all else I want to be happily married with a man who wants nothing more than to come home to ME. With that being said I believe there are certain things one must do in order to achieve this goal. I'm a traditionalist when it comes to relationships, I've been domesticated; I cook, clean, run errands, have sex anywhere anytime, and all this is in addition to holding down a REAL job putting in 50-60 hours a week. When he's sad I listen to his problems, when he's mad I ask him what can I do for him, when he's tired I rub his back, when he's frustrated I leave him alone and when he's happy I'm happy. Now I'm sure a few of you are thinking that I must be the craziest woman in America but let me tell you what I get for this sacrifice and I will admit its a sacrifice but one I'm willing to make. I'm with him 24/7, we party together, we eat good in the neighborhood, we talk all the time about any and everything that is going on in our lives, we have a mutual respect for each, he's honest even when it hurts, and I trust wholeheartedly that when he says something he means it. I couldn't ask for a better relationship. A friend just questioned why I don't snoop when I'm alone at his house and I simply stated FOR WHAT!! Why are we so afraid to be happy!! I'm not!!!
I put on my THINGS TO DO LIST...next bitch who asks me anything about my relationship simply ask her WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO KNOW!
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Drama Queen
As time goes by I'm feeling more and more comfortable in court. Today I was scheduled for a mini-trial in Bellflower. I call it "mini" because when one typically thinks of trial they think of a long drawn out process similar to the infamous OJ trial. But my session was going to take less than 2 hours, maybe even 1. But I was prepared to bombard the Defendant with question after question probing for inconsistencies. Literati Litigator in full force and effect, lol. For some reason though I can not escape DRAMA.
I was late to rise this morning because I turned in kind of late. Court wasn't until 10:00am so I didn't anticipate much traffic headed east. Who goes east anyway?!?! I'm a third of the way to Bellflower, right around the Compton area, and I realize that I forgot my damn shoes. I slipped on some shimmery slip-ons (hehe) and at one point had my heels in my hand but between grabbing my house-in-a-bag (a/k/a my purse), my legal bag and briefcase, the shoes got lost in translation! I momentarily considered the possibility that I would have to walk into court with a navy blue suit, bronze shirt and arguably house shoes. What on earth would the citizens of California represented in the Bellflower courthouse think of me? In the alternative I put the c230 kompressor to work and booked it northwest to get my damn shoes. Realizing that I had 35 minutes to get there and back I called for backup. Woke my brother up and asked if he could meet me near the freeway entrance with my damn shoes. Luckily he obliged and we made a clean exchange. Hopped back on the freeway taking penitentiary chances to make it to court on time. Being late is definitely frowned upon. I made it there at 9:01. Entered court and they weren't even ready for us. What's more, the Defendant was "recovering" from some illness and unavailable to sit for trial. Trial continued for 2 weeks. All that for nothing. Not to mention gas is an arm, a leg and a sock right now. $3.50 for a damn gallon of gas, Bush better go somewhere with all this madness.
Anywho like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm feeling more comfortable and not easily intimidated by these know-it-all lawyers. All in due time I will be a force to be reckoned with. Believe that!
I add to MY THINGS TO DO LIST, always always have a pair of black pumps in the trunk. See ya never know!
I was late to rise this morning because I turned in kind of late. Court wasn't until 10:00am so I didn't anticipate much traffic headed east. Who goes east anyway?!?! I'm a third of the way to Bellflower, right around the Compton area, and I realize that I forgot my damn shoes. I slipped on some shimmery slip-ons (hehe) and at one point had my heels in my hand but between grabbing my house-in-a-bag (a/k/a my purse), my legal bag and briefcase, the shoes got lost in translation! I momentarily considered the possibility that I would have to walk into court with a navy blue suit, bronze shirt and arguably house shoes. What on earth would the citizens of California represented in the Bellflower courthouse think of me? In the alternative I put the c230 kompressor to work and booked it northwest to get my damn shoes. Realizing that I had 35 minutes to get there and back I called for backup. Woke my brother up and asked if he could meet me near the freeway entrance with my damn shoes. Luckily he obliged and we made a clean exchange. Hopped back on the freeway taking penitentiary chances to make it to court on time. Being late is definitely frowned upon. I made it there at 9:01. Entered court and they weren't even ready for us. What's more, the Defendant was "recovering" from some illness and unavailable to sit for trial. Trial continued for 2 weeks. All that for nothing. Not to mention gas is an arm, a leg and a sock right now. $3.50 for a damn gallon of gas, Bush better go somewhere with all this madness.
Anywho like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm feeling more comfortable and not easily intimidated by these know-it-all lawyers. All in due time I will be a force to be reckoned with. Believe that!
I add to MY THINGS TO DO LIST, always always have a pair of black pumps in the trunk. See ya never know!
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Update...
You remember (and who could forget), the two stylistically challenged, greasy wrap wearing sistahs from Michigan right. So it just so happened that my sweetie was hosting a work related function on Thursday and his homegirl showed up with one of them. I stopped through solo to show my unwavering support (you know the drill), peeped his homegirl and her hopeless friend talking tomy guy. I of course spoke to his friend and purposefully avoided eye contact with the other. Who would want to look at that anyway! Shortly thereafter, her friend tapped me on my shoulder and said what's up. Now this is the part I don't get. Weren't you just talking ish about me, wondering why I was the chosen one and now you want to say hi. FOR WHAT!!! I hesitantly gave her a little head nod and muttered hey. She commented on the fact that I was holding 2 drinks...I gave her a fake ass smile and disappeared. Latter on my sweetie, let's call him Heathcliff (only because I sometimes like to refer to myself as the 2007 Claire Huxtable, hehe!), was approached by his homegirl asking whether or not he told me about the conversation which transpired after dinner. Of course he did and he let her know. She later approached me, smiling, saying that she noticed my fake hello I gave to her girl. Now this I can respect, she accepted what it was and treated me, and it, accordingly. Now she could have gotten mad at me, or Heathcliff but the reality is we would have never known had she not opted to tell on her girl. Oh well!
I added to my THINGS TO DO LIST, never tell someone's boyfriend that my friends were talking ish about his girlfriend.
I added to my THINGS TO DO LIST, never tell someone's boyfriend that my friends were talking ish about his girlfriend.
Jury duty...
So I’ve temporarily abandoned my blog to perform my annually required civic obligation, jury duty. Anticipating spending one day maximum downtown at the courthouse disgruntled like the rest of my peers, I surprisingly got picked to sit on a jury. Quite honestly, I’ve always wanted to be a juror thinking maybe I would luck up on an OJ-like trial and reap all the benefits, you know…write a bestseller recalling my experience as juror #11 and have a TV movie made from the book. A girl can dream can’t she? But to no avail, my case, a civil matter, is nothing more than determining liability in a bus to car accident. No broken bones, no shattered pelvis, no disfigurement, nothing, nada, zilch.
What’s interesting about this case is there is a video tape of the accident and yet it’s still not as simple as one might think. The bus was equipped with a camera facing traffic which captured the movement of the bus, up to and including the collision. However, it was a rainy evening and things aren’t as clear as they could be. Opening arguments, 3 days of testimony, 12 pages of notes, closing arguments, 20 pages of jury instruction and the jury finally gets the case. BUT WAIT, there is one little thing left before deliberation. 2 of the 14 jurors will be chosen randomly as alternates, in other words, 2 of the 14 jurors will have NO say so WHATSOEVER regarding their opinion in the matter. You can see where this is going right? The first selection, none only than Mrs. Esquire herself, what a freakin’ crock!!!!! Plaintiff’s attorney looked at me with frustration. I think he ultimately knew which position I would take in this matter given the fact that I am an attorney myself. The cards were written and I was ousted like Star Jones from The View. Now you would at least think that I would be free to go and continue with my life after I had already lost 3 whole days behind this nonsense (yes now its nonsense!). OH BUT NO!!!! To add fuel to the fire, I have to sit with the jury and listen WITHOUT emotion to their deliberations, JUST IN CASE one decides not to show up or God forbid something happens to one of them which would prevent their participation.
I’m infuriated…I had it all planned out, of course I would have offered my services to sit as the jury foreman and facilitate discussions amongst the oblivious jurors. Not that they were unintelligent but that they were not as in tune with the proceedings as I, paying attention to certain things when they should have been aware of others. But that’s neither here nor there. I was going to run the show and minimize time spent deliberating. It took them quite awhile to discern that negligence is not simply a question of “yes he was” or “no he wasn’t.” California follows the comparative negligence theory in which Plaintiff and Defendant can be equally at fault, or 60/40, 70/30, you see what I’m getting at. Very few believe Plaintiff is not wholly responsible nor do they believe Defendant is entirely accountable. They must now come up with some reasonable figure determining each party’s liability. This could seemingly take another day or two out of my life analyzing with scrutiny, poker-faced, as these 12 individuals determine the amount Plaintiff will ultimately be rewarded for injuries sustained on the evening of March 18, 2005.
In addition to this grave injustice, I must then head across town to my office and work an another 4 hours or so playing catch up. By the end of the night all I want to do to cuddle up with a warm body and sleep my aggravation away. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t secretly wish one of the jurors did not show up on Monday but I won’t get my hopes up too high. Let’s just hope that after Monday I can return to my daily routine, working hard and playing even harder.
I added to my THINGS TO DO LIST, avoid jury duty at all costs!!!
What’s interesting about this case is there is a video tape of the accident and yet it’s still not as simple as one might think. The bus was equipped with a camera facing traffic which captured the movement of the bus, up to and including the collision. However, it was a rainy evening and things aren’t as clear as they could be. Opening arguments, 3 days of testimony, 12 pages of notes, closing arguments, 20 pages of jury instruction and the jury finally gets the case. BUT WAIT, there is one little thing left before deliberation. 2 of the 14 jurors will be chosen randomly as alternates, in other words, 2 of the 14 jurors will have NO say so WHATSOEVER regarding their opinion in the matter. You can see where this is going right? The first selection, none only than Mrs. Esquire herself, what a freakin’ crock!!!!! Plaintiff’s attorney looked at me with frustration. I think he ultimately knew which position I would take in this matter given the fact that I am an attorney myself. The cards were written and I was ousted like Star Jones from The View. Now you would at least think that I would be free to go and continue with my life after I had already lost 3 whole days behind this nonsense (yes now its nonsense!). OH BUT NO!!!! To add fuel to the fire, I have to sit with the jury and listen WITHOUT emotion to their deliberations, JUST IN CASE one decides not to show up or God forbid something happens to one of them which would prevent their participation.
I’m infuriated…I had it all planned out, of course I would have offered my services to sit as the jury foreman and facilitate discussions amongst the oblivious jurors. Not that they were unintelligent but that they were not as in tune with the proceedings as I, paying attention to certain things when they should have been aware of others. But that’s neither here nor there. I was going to run the show and minimize time spent deliberating. It took them quite awhile to discern that negligence is not simply a question of “yes he was” or “no he wasn’t.” California follows the comparative negligence theory in which Plaintiff and Defendant can be equally at fault, or 60/40, 70/30, you see what I’m getting at. Very few believe Plaintiff is not wholly responsible nor do they believe Defendant is entirely accountable. They must now come up with some reasonable figure determining each party’s liability. This could seemingly take another day or two out of my life analyzing with scrutiny, poker-faced, as these 12 individuals determine the amount Plaintiff will ultimately be rewarded for injuries sustained on the evening of March 18, 2005.
In addition to this grave injustice, I must then head across town to my office and work an another 4 hours or so playing catch up. By the end of the night all I want to do to cuddle up with a warm body and sleep my aggravation away. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t secretly wish one of the jurors did not show up on Monday but I won’t get my hopes up too high. Let’s just hope that after Monday I can return to my daily routine, working hard and playing even harder.
I added to my THINGS TO DO LIST, avoid jury duty at all costs!!!
Monday, March 5, 2007
The good, the bad and the UGLY
Friday night…
After a long week, research, motions, court, and a tyrant for a boss, dinner with friends, even if they weren’t mine, was welcomed. I arrived first, glass of red, conversation with the waiter; slowly my sweetie, his home girl, and her home girls arrived. Trying to make a good impression (it’s always good for your sweetie’s home girls to like you), I tried to be as sweet as possible, more than usual, it definitely takes an effort.
After small talk, exchange of inquiries, chats about careers, I erroneously thought that these stylistically challenged, greasy wrap wearing, brace face having misfits liked me but turns out they drank haterade with their dinner my sweetie paid for. Questions about whether we were boyfriend/girlfriend surfaced first. Then a phone call relaying their meaningless concerns about my sweetie’s choice of companion followed. Perturbed, a little; concerned, not in the slightest. My dog has more style than these two, and I don’t even own a dog, lmao. My sweetie wants to spit on them, but of course being the lady that I am I would never allow that. That saliva is better used down my throat ;).
I added to our THINGS TO DO LIST, a letter to the mayor of Detroit and/or Flint, Michigan proposing a statewide cease and desist to wearing a wrap after it has obviously ran its course.
Saturday night…
As movie dates rise to the level of couture rather than thrifty, box office blunders become more of a reason for argument over dinner than for whisperings of sweet nothings. Over the weekend, my significant other and I opted for a night at the movies. We both had different agendas. He wanted to see Ghostrider, namely because of Eva Mendes. I wanted to see Reno 911: Miami cause I was in the mood for a good laugh. Wild Hogs and The Number 23 were somewhere in the middle. The Number 23 started first and the decision was made.
Thirty eight dollars and twenty-five cent later, snuggled up on a crude imitation of what the movie theatre deemed comfortable seating, the lights were off and the curtains were up! A slow start prompted a couple of gazes into each others eyes, rubs up my leg, and kisses on the cheek. Not that I mind that at all but 40 minutes into the film and we still had no idea what was going on.
Casting Jim Carrey, albeit one of my favorite comedic actors was a grave misappropriation of resources. The movie was slow, uneventful, the art direction mediocre, the acting sub-par, the writing AWFUL, and it didn’t even warrant toughing it out and staying until the end to see if it could possibly get better. We gladly walked out shaking our heads in complete and utter disgust.
My sweetie added to our THINGS TO DO LIST, a letter to the director/producer relaying our concerns and requesting an immediate return of our money.
After a long week, research, motions, court, and a tyrant for a boss, dinner with friends, even if they weren’t mine, was welcomed. I arrived first, glass of red, conversation with the waiter; slowly my sweetie, his home girl, and her home girls arrived. Trying to make a good impression (it’s always good for your sweetie’s home girls to like you), I tried to be as sweet as possible, more than usual, it definitely takes an effort.
After small talk, exchange of inquiries, chats about careers, I erroneously thought that these stylistically challenged, greasy wrap wearing, brace face having misfits liked me but turns out they drank haterade with their dinner my sweetie paid for. Questions about whether we were boyfriend/girlfriend surfaced first. Then a phone call relaying their meaningless concerns about my sweetie’s choice of companion followed. Perturbed, a little; concerned, not in the slightest. My dog has more style than these two, and I don’t even own a dog, lmao. My sweetie wants to spit on them, but of course being the lady that I am I would never allow that. That saliva is better used down my throat ;).
I added to our THINGS TO DO LIST, a letter to the mayor of Detroit and/or Flint, Michigan proposing a statewide cease and desist to wearing a wrap after it has obviously ran its course.
Saturday night…
As movie dates rise to the level of couture rather than thrifty, box office blunders become more of a reason for argument over dinner than for whisperings of sweet nothings. Over the weekend, my significant other and I opted for a night at the movies. We both had different agendas. He wanted to see Ghostrider, namely because of Eva Mendes. I wanted to see Reno 911: Miami cause I was in the mood for a good laugh. Wild Hogs and The Number 23 were somewhere in the middle. The Number 23 started first and the decision was made.
Thirty eight dollars and twenty-five cent later, snuggled up on a crude imitation of what the movie theatre deemed comfortable seating, the lights were off and the curtains were up! A slow start prompted a couple of gazes into each others eyes, rubs up my leg, and kisses on the cheek. Not that I mind that at all but 40 minutes into the film and we still had no idea what was going on.
Casting Jim Carrey, albeit one of my favorite comedic actors was a grave misappropriation of resources. The movie was slow, uneventful, the art direction mediocre, the acting sub-par, the writing AWFUL, and it didn’t even warrant toughing it out and staying until the end to see if it could possibly get better. We gladly walked out shaking our heads in complete and utter disgust.
My sweetie added to our THINGS TO DO LIST, a letter to the director/producer relaying our concerns and requesting an immediate return of our money.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
WHAT
Good Afternoon and welcome to Legally Beautiful, a quasi-diary of my somewhat jaded past and propitious future. A real genius stuck in an unusually sexy shell. PUT UP OR SHUT UP before I comb your hair... this is how I do it.
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