give and receive.

where to begin.
i have had quite the break.
nothing to amazing.
very calm actually.

me and the boy.
went to the burg for Christmas.
we took the back roads.
we listened to hot water music.
we watched the night fall behind the highway.
saw the blue rise from the skyline.

was wonderful.
no stress.
ma familia.
was on their best behavior.
no fighting.
no crying.
no embarrassing moments.
perfect actually.

he carved the turkey.
he answered questions.
unwrapped presents.
nestled in between those seven hills.
he made his self at home.
in my hometown.

we made it back to the city.
and had our own Christmas.
we watched This Christmas.
and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.
we drank and cuddled.
and fella sleep under the tree.
woke up to presents, and laughter.
and just us.

his family came down yesterday.
his father.
brother in law.
and nephew.
and we had Christmas again.

they are wonderful people.
they have such big hearts.
and good souls.
and they make me feel like.
i want to be a part of that.
of them.
of this.

they are real people.
and i love them.

in the shadow of the season.
i cant seem to remember.
my gifts.
and what i gave.

what lingers with me is the feeling.
the words.
the smiles.
and despite all my regression.
all the tensions.
and the denial.

ive realized what its all about.
its about.
and loving someone elses life.
more than your own.
its about shutting the fuck up.
and making it work.

the grass may be greener.
but i bet it doesnt feel this good.

i lay awake.
and think about.
all the stupid shit i do.
and how i have so much.
thats so good.
that so many people long for.
to be loved as hard i am.
to treated the way i am.
to be fucked the way that i am.

and i take all of this for granted.
the love.
the life.
the sex.

the things i do to the people i love.
shouldnt be allowed.

but they love me.
despite my idiocy.
despite my selfishness.
despite my lust.

i am loved.
and im am trying not to fuck it up.


devil stay away from me.

who are you.
where did you come from.
why now.
why here.
why this.
and me.

you make me change.
my thought patterns.
i think of you.
in others situations.

i wonder how your hands feel.
i think about how you smell.
and what you'd say.
responses to my sentences.
glances in my direction.

and i know.
how wrong.
and i fight.
my dreams.
i dread my slept.
because i know.
youll be there.

under my skin.
luring me in.
i want press my body.
against your chest.
i want to hold your hands.
under the sheets.
i want to smell you on my breath.
and taste you on my skin.

there are times.
where i wonder.
where would i be.
what would i do.
with you.

all these.
and i wonder.
what is it worth.

i question it all.
you make me question myself.
and my choices.
my path.

and still.

i want to cut and run.
start brand new.
fuck and forget.
leave the us.
and the we.
and he.
leave everything.
and let you take me everywhere.
i want to scream your name.
at the top of my lungs.
shout you down my throat.
i want to lay with you.
and do absolutely nothing but be.
i want to love you till.
the bottom of my heart.

where were you?
when i was alone.
and searching.
and wanting.
and waiting.

where were you?
when i was in all the wrong places.
sleeping with stranger.
all the wrong faces.

i was waiting for this.
settling for that.
and now.

that things are different.
you show yourself.
for you.
id slow my phrases.
kill the beat.
hit the lights.

i want you.
i want you.
to stay away.
as far as you can.
for this time.
i feel unable.
to control.
unwilling to.

once again i am here.
two roads.
diverged in a yellow wood.

i want the one i shouldn't.

for the sake of me.
for the sake of this.
stay away.


sex in richmond.

is dangerous.
its haunting.
it lingers in spaces.
in close quarters
dim light.
soft sentences.
just right.

self declared.
at a distant.
oh so rare.

and determined.
strong in dismay.
sought without malice
yet turned wreckless
with the day.

it can be intimate
with passion
and given without tears.
lost in an instant and
fought for for years.

sex in richmond is
nasty and rude.
it may shock and amaze.
strike anywhere.
without notice or care.

it is anxious.
and ferocious.
it can ravage your soul.
leave you barren.
and broken.
lost and alone.

sex in richmond.
spills over glasses.
creaks in the floorboards.
hung over bar stool.
checked at the door.

sex in richmond.
is masked as love.
and given as affection.

sex in richmond.
can easily point you.
in the wrong direction.

sex in this city is.
far from the truth.
its not what your used to.

its a cycle of abuse.
its new.
its crisp.
its fresh off the boat.

keeping up appearances.
caught in your throat.
on the tip of your tongue.
lodged between a rock.
and a hard place.

its what you wake up for.
dream about at night.
wish for on a star.
worth all the strife.

sex in richmond.
is alive.
its breathing.
its in between your sheets.
sex in richmond is coming.
its happening.
as we speak.


she is it.

so tired.
so hungover.
i have yet to pick up a book and.
study for my math final.
which is in.
4 hours.
the last time i had a math test.
it took me 2 hours.
and a panic attack to finish it.
although i know.
that math is the worst possible subject for me.
and i should be diligent in my pursuit of education.
but i am distracted and hungover as usual.

last night.
i got home.
the man was at work.
usually on my "me nights" as he calls them.
id sit at home.
with the dogs.
burn a few.
and watch my television.
munch out to some terrible fast food.
i love me nights.
but last night.
i accidentally got drunk.
since ive decided that i.
as a lady.
as a person.
as a civilized human being.
should not drink liquor.
it makes me crazy.
and emotional.
and horny.
a terrible combination.
i want to fight.
and cry.
so i dont.

on my way home.
i stop at my friendly neighborhood market.
for some beer.

which, speaking of.
i love the museum district.
after i moved from the fan.
i thought i would die without Strawberry St Market.
but now.
there are three adorable.
lil markets.
on each side of my apartment.

one is run by a very sweet Indian couple.
the wife is always on the phone.
and the husband always stuffs.
shitloads of candy in my bag.
and tells me how pretty i am.
they are beautiful.
i must remind myself to send them a card.

and then there's the other market.
run my an azian family.
and the dad who knows my order.
Stella and Camel lights?
they also have a son.
who is adorably azian.
and is always wearing some
obscure social reference tee shirt.
and gets the flush when i say " bye cutiepie"
but they never have ice.
and finally.

Patterson st.
its cute.
and quaint.
and there's always some burn out.
playing death metal behind the counter.
secretly undressing me with his/her eyes.
and they always have ice.

i love my hood.


so i buy beer.
and i come home.
and i think about calling my mother.
but i know that that would take way to long.
and im way to sober.
so i sit on the couch.
and watch whale wars hd.
and i drink.
and drink.
and drink.
and i am drinking.
and the bottles are going.
and i am drunk.
in my house.
with my dogs.
it is 7 pm.

my phone rings.
and i am in shock and awe.
it is a dear friend.
from a different life.
and she is calling me.
she is drunk.
and she apologizes.
and i am drunk.
and i am happy.
she is amazing.
and beautiful and brilliant.
the last time we hung out.
had to be over 2 years ago.
and im sure it involved.
cocaine and whiskey.

and now that she has moved away.
and i have moved on.
she happened to find herself.
in her car.
on her phone.
dialing my number.

and we talked into the wee hours.
about our lives.
and how they are so normal.
and how we hate that.
and our men.
who are so normal.
and how they hate us.
and our past and our present.
putting emphasis on time.
and focusing on strength.
it felt good.
felt good to know that out there.
there are real fucking people.
people who i love.
and have never forgot.
people who have changed.
yet still remember my name.

our lives seem to mirror one another.
and our outlooks on the world.
and ourselves.
couldn't be more similar.
and now that we are older.
and harder.
we realize.
that some times.
its okay to just stand still.
where we are.
in our shoes.
its okay to just be here.

and here we are.
two little girls.
and emotional.
we are amazing.
we are going to change the world.
we are going to love so hard.

my night went.
from me night.
to she night.
pouring our hearts into pitchers.
reassuring each other that.
this too shall pass.
and for what its worth.
this is it.

i love her.
i love you.
she is family.
she is life.
she is it.


Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, kiss my ass. Kiss his ass. Kiss your ass. Happy Hanukkah.

so yeah.
i watched this movie the other night.
A La Demand.

its a lovely film about little boy who grows up
to be a red suit wearing murderer,
all because he saw his mom having sex with Santa.
its terribly made, low budget, and hi-larious.

and i defiantly think this takes the cake on my holiday movie list.
which is starting.....



HOME ALONE (1, 2, 3 & 4 )

Home Alone is crucial Christmas staple. No one can deny that Macaulay Culkin is the cutest white kid since the Jackson Five. And regardless of the fact that 3 and 4 sucked ass. I still watch them because im a sucker for a family oriented plot line. "Keep the change ya filthy animal!"


Now I know this isnt a technical "Christmas Movie" but it takes place during the holidays, and it has John Cusack. Enough said.
"You ski the K-12 dude, and girls will go sterile just looking at you! "


This entire genre is Christmas, from the animated Rudolph to the Frosty the Snowman, fuck yes for the original Claymation. And Fred Astaire?? Hello! I dont know if Cartoons are supposed to make you moist, but this one sure as hell does.

"They call me Heat Miser. Whatever I touch starts to melt in my clutch. I'm too much. "


Chevy Chase, Chevy Chase, Chevy Chase I love you and the Griswalds. It amazing how some jokes and some lights can make you forget all about his raging addiction to Cocaine. Regardless this is one of my favorite movies. So there.

"Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
kiss my ass.
Kiss his ass.
Kiss your ass.
Happy Hanukkah. "

bah humbug.


i hate christmas.
dont get me wrong.
i actually love christmas.
i love the decorations.
and the music.
and the lights and snow and cold.
i family and friends and drinking and eating.
but i HATE christmas.

especially when you are broke.
and its like im not even that broke.

but there are so many other things
i could be spending my money on.

rather than sweatpants for stepdad.
and blah blah blah for whoever else.


call me selfish.

call me Ebeneezer.

its just that geez, man.
lil sister tighten up.
do you really need the new Beyonce?
cant you just rip it off the net
like the rest of the world?

or damn grandpa.
how many pairs
of slippers can you own?

i mean come on.
and its not like
my family is the kind that
actually cares about getting gifts.

especially from me.
they still consider me one of the kids.

they just want me there.
and happy.
and bringin the silly in full effect.
as i do.

but the man is what im really worried about.
last year i went all out.
new outfits.
surround sound.
every UFC dvd.
bjs out the wahoo.

it was nice.
and it felt good to watch
his cute lil face light up.
and him swimming in DVDs.

but this year.
we said we wouldnt go crazy.
and we wouldnt spend to much.
and of course ive only bought him
like 2 things so far.
well 3.
and Christmas is 9 days away.
and im workin on a crucial budget.

fuck this.

sometimes im a lil psychic.
like right now.
i see myself.
running around on Christmas Eve.
like a bat outta Hades.
trying to scrounge up
something salvageable of a gift.
oh well.
thats love right?

love is giving the gift.
of " nigga, we broke!"

love is paying the light bill.
buying video games.

love is an hj in the car.
instead of new rims.

love is stupid and expensive.
and cheap and dirty.

and thats whats christmas is all about right?
love and sex and making babies.
and egg nog.
and warm fires.
all that shit.
leads up to fucking.
whether we want to admit it or not.

so i.
keeping in the spirit of the season.
am going to pinch the penny.
and be thrifty and wise.
give the gift of sexual favors.
and save a few bucks.

fuck it.


damned if you do, damned if you dont....

what the fuck.
my tooth is killing me.
and so is my dignity.
and my ankle.
oh and not to mention.
my neck.
and my back.

i have no idea what i did this weekend.
but by the looks of my hair.
that bottle of Jose.
and my bank account.
i had fun.
alot of fun?

friday started off weird and ended even stranger.
i remember waking up that morning.
and saying to myself.
"dont fuck this up"
i hated what i wore to work.
and drank way to much coffee.
i got home and cleaned my house.
and trimmed my tree.
and drank tequila like it was going out of style.
and then i hit the streets blazing.

i thought to myself.
dont drink to much.
dont talk to loud.
dont punch any bitches in the face.
doin how i do.
keeping in true lp fashion.
i drank way to much.
talked far to loud.
and almost.
but did not.
yet was close.
punch any bitches in their face.

good girl.

i did.
and shout.
and dance.
and talk shit.

and ended my night.
crying into the arms of a beautiful woman.
speaking of.
ive been twisting words around in my head.
trying to piece together.
how exactly to say things.
and i think its as simple as
just saying, yes.
and thank you.
and i know.
i know that this is it.
and its all silly.
and we are all amazing.
but there are a few.
who are spectacular.
and despite and the hustle and bustle.
and angst and jealously.
at the end of the day.
bygones are bygones.
and both of those bygones are bitches.
and both of those bitches are.

then there was saturday.
which started off awesome.
and went straight to awkward.
then to outrageous.
and ended up terriblehorribleokay.

8 am comes around.
and i wipe off the club.
and put on the daughter.
because my father.
and lil sister were stopping by for a visit.
my sister was coming home for break.
and thought it would be a great idea
to swing by sissies house.
half past dark thrirty in the morning.

so i drag my hangover out of bed.
and hold down my vomit for a few hours.
we go to breakfast.
i fucking love my fam.
i sit at across from my father.
who i look just like.
and he makes me smile.
and i realize that i love him.
and he loves me.
and i am lucky.
because he looks great for 46.
and i will look that great, if not better at his age.
because i got good genes.
and black dont crack.
and Mcleans does not have the biggest breakfast in town.

he drops me off.
gives me some money.
which is great.
cuz a nigga is broke.
and drives he Cadillac into the sunrise.

that was nice.

and then you know.
i piddled around.
burned a few.
watched tropic thunder for the 20,000 time.

night falls.
and we prepare to go over to dinner.
with friends.
his friends.
and they are sweet.
i was nervous.
because im awkward and weird.
and i drank too much red wine.
and laughed.
and dropped things.
and im sure i said something stupid.
oh and drank too much red wine.

we got home.
and i threw up a few times.
and i passed out.
i woke up to
one of the worst drunken delirious daze ever possible.
which events i will divulge later.
i think im still in shock and awe.
and anger and disgust.
i cant even talk about it now.
still hurts.

oh but i will.
i will talk about it.
you can bet on that.


was nothing special thank god.
i slept in.
i watched football.
ate food.
took naps.
and im sure there was a bj.
or something in the middle there.
but by then.
it was all a blur.

and now.
heres monday.
and we start again.
and i am so sleepy.
and so sore.
and i feel like i went to hell and back this weekend.
and all i got was this lousy blog.

oh well.


what part of TAP OR NAP do these guys not understand??

skip to 7:30ish

skip to 7:06

dear god.

its offical. We are in a recession

What next?

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile


oh blogger where art thou?

so busy.
all the time.
and yet i feel i get nothing done.
as much as id like to say.
that ive been putting all my work before my sleep.
its a lie.
a dirty lie.
i am obsessed with my rest.
and will always put my beauty.
before my brains.

with school coming to close.
i feel like i will have some time to breathe.
not having to think about
tests and quizzes and papers and finals and grades and the future.

ive have begun quite a few projects.
that i hope will shine some light into my life.
i have recently begun crocheting.
azalea sat me down.
and told me it was time i became a real woman.
and so i grab my needle.
and never looked back.
im working on a scarf now.
but i hope soon to move on to other grand adventures.
like seat covers.
and potholders.
and blankets.
oh my.

in other news.
im planning a Seed Bomb workshop.
which has been something tingling in the back of my brain for months.
so i finally decided to just do it.
it should be rather interesting.
nothing fancy.
just people.
and fun.
so stoked.

right now im working on getting a guest speaker from the DEQ to come in.
hopefully that pans out well.

im actually going to go work on that now.....

wish me luck!


vaginia monolgue.

Sunday morning.
with the recent fall of my computer.
i write this handheld.

my silence disrupted by the early morning pitch
of dogs in heat
and church bells sounding their charm.

this is my life.

last nite
despite my urge
to see and be scene.
i stayed at home.
me and he.
watched and walked in the first snow of the season.
decorated our home with Christmas decorations
that would make even the Gristist of Griswold's cringe.
and had drinks
and sat close
and smoked
and laughed through a Japanese Western.
we kissed each other like it was the first time.
touched each other like we where made of gold.
how fitting.
this is my life.

full of good decisions.
which leads to better sex.
which aids in better sleep.
which makes a happier me.

and I am happy.

I think I have finally found that source of happiness.

and after all these years.
its been in the place I least expected.

Right between my legs.

I realize, that once I first began to realize the power of my vagina
I was to young and to naive to truly harness its power.
but now.
that ive seen my fair share of bed sheets.
showed enough cleavage.
been witty
and clever
and seductive.
it comes easy to me.
I am aware of the strength.
that Ive been blessed to have.

This portal to another dimension.
This underestimated vertical conundrum that can take over the world.
This diamond in the rough.

and to be able to share the magic of me.
to utilize this power daily.
it wonderful.

So I will continue to make good decisions.
That lead to better sex.
That lead to a happier me.

I am not a women.
I am a force of nature.


books that changed my life.

i think i was programed from birth to adore reading. With both of my grandmothers being librarians, there was never a lack of literature in my home. As I got older and began to develop my own personal appreciation of art, I found certain novels that pushed through me, and changed who I was as a person. Although I am always searching for a new bound copy of my dreams, it seems like I always go back to the same stories. These are the books that have changed who I am. These are the stories that diagram my life, these are the novels that i can recite every word from every page, the books that are like sex and drugs and raw emotion and life.


I remember being assigned this as "Summer Reading" in the 7th grade. I spent that summer on the Eastern Shore with my father, eating oysters and roaming the desolate streets of that island. This story of man's exploration and cultivation became the basis behind the way I perceive the world. This tale of want and need, and imperialism the pain, agony and defeat that comes with starting life, and ending other. The Naming of Names.... There will Come Soft Rains... House if Usher II..... Ray Bradbury and his dark portrayal of the destructive nature of man. This book changed my life.


where do i begin. James Joyce, James Joyce. stream of consciousness. this book which has found its way to my bedside many of nights, always leaves me differently. there are times when the utter beauty of dreams and language, and not having to format that to prose overwhelms me. And then there are times where i anger myself at not being born int the 1920 and writing this first. Joyce has truly helped me form my style as a writer, as a dreamer as a nocturnal being. This book has changed my life.


I found this book hidden in a poetry section of my high school library. The slip in the back said it hadnt been checked out since 1992. This small, dirty book, with frayed edges and stained paper contains words that i speak everyday. The second book of poetry from this unknown women written in the 1970s, was full of rage and hate, sex and lust and fear, and complete admiration and passion and magic. She sits on the back cover, smoking in her long hair. Inside she breathes life into her strange poetry, written with no form but her own. Poems like "News" and "Perception" felt like they came directly from my heart, through my hands, and onto these pages. To this day I have yet to find another copy, mine worn and beaten from constant love and affection... I love this book. I carry this book in my purse. This book has changed my life.


How naive we are to think that just because there's rabbits, and little girls and a tea parties, that its a children s book. Even as I read this in my youth, I absorbed the underlying currants that this tale of a little girl and her fantasy world had to offer. And then Jefferson Airplane summed it up. This book is actually kind of scary, filled with dark illusions to life in Britain circa 1800s. Charles and his all to demented mind, makes Alice a pawn in his opium induced dreams. One pill makes you bigger, and one pill makes you small.... feed you head. This book changed my life.


If you are from Virginia, then im sure you know of this man. I have been in love with Clay since I was in the 10th grade and i sat Indian style in front of his feet and listen to him read aloud his tales of demented love and loss. This man, dressed in a white shirt, khakis and a beard found his way into my heart through my ears. Still after watching him on various stages, set to music, close quarters, face to face, the magic and fear of his words only grows stronger. These short stories ranging in style and texture, all came together over a common good. Shock, mystery and amazement. He twist his tales and bends the lines between what is acceptable fiction and what is deranged reality. Being from Richmond, I feel like everything he writes could, will and has happened in this city. He made me change the way i look at things around me. These streets are filled with the dead and their tales. And Clay just happened to write about it. This book has changed my life.

So many others....so many others....so many others....
these books are changing my life.



This is a great wonderful lovely idea that i have been very excited to start of my own.
Ive made a few by myself and it was really fun and i felt sneaky!

is hijacked this post from

I cant wait to bomb the shit out this city!

I will be hosting a workshop at Rumors in January!
Stay tuned for details!!!

Have you seen me?

Hello, I am an empty lot. I exist in your neighborhood. I'm just a big patch of dirt and some trash. I make my neighbors feel uneasy and sad. No one likes me and it makes me sad too. All over, it is a lose-lose situation.

But maybe you can help me? All I need are some seed bombs. They're cheap and easy to make. And if you do it right, they are completely self automated and great for the environment. They will be a sight for sore eyes and they will make everyone happy. Especially the butterflies.

Seed Bombs Ingredients
1) powdered clay
2) worm castings
3) wildflower seeds indigenous to the area
4) water
5) mixing container
6) stick

How to Make a Seed Bomb
1) mix 5pt powder clay, 5pt worm castings, 1pt seeds in a mixing container.
2) add just enough water to make a nice muddy clay consistency
3) roll up the mixture into little balls like gum balls
4) let dry in a cool dry place for like 3 days
5) throw them in empty fields.

The middle bomb is a great size.

How they Work
A seed bomb is a little capsule with everything you need to grow a plant all bundled up. The clay has lots of root-encouraging nutrients. The Worm Castings will give the seeds a nice fertilizer, good for land that hasn't been cultivated or worked on for a while. The indigenous seeds are custom made for your area. They will know how to grow given the conditions.

Now all they need is a nice rain. The perfect time to throw these is right before a light rainy season. The rain will melt the clay to expose the seeds, and your seed bombs will grow.

We had a seed bomb workshop in November. We used California Poppy seeds. Unfortunately there was no rain this year, so we have a whole bunch saved for this fall.

Now it's your turn. Make seed bombs. Invite your friends. Make your city greener.


wine me, dine me.

i love the burg.
from its silent streets.
to its seven hills.
as i plaster myself.
to the edge.
of the living room couch.
in this desolate.
jesus fearing.
seven hill city of a town.
the hardest thing to find.
is a strong signal.

tonite i feel like.
i proved myself.
i showed my growth.
through a delicious corn pudding.
and a.
stepmother secret
sweet potato pie.
i showed my stability.
by the just the right amount of
in my candied yams.
by the crunch
of the potato salad.

all those who have come.
to expect the unexpected.
found passion
and honestly.
and responsible.
formed through clever phases.

and yet.

my family is amazing.
and intricate.
they embrace me.
and find me intriguing.
they feed me probing questions.
how strange it is.
years from how we thought we would be.
preconceived notions start deep.
in the blood.
but some how its different.
i think i understand.
all this.
all this
too much.
it kind of takes the fun out of it all.

and sometimes.
i wonder.
whats the difference between this.
or that.
or what makes you a family.
its it the blood.
or the heart.
or the mindfacesoul.
what is it.
that makes this.
all of this.
and that.
a family.

sometimes i feel like.
im me.
and im the only one who knows it.
and that this is it.
and ive finally found.
the only way to show them.

and him.
what about him.
who is this man.
some nights.
the warmth.
i am thankful for.
his breath.
his touch.
this man.
whos love is only replicated.
in praise or pose.
this man.
who puts a.
comma splice.
between my common sense.
a false sense of security.
to mask the blatant obscurity .
of this situation.
a life time of patience.
giving way to giving in.
the push.
the pull.
finding its way to.
the middle.



with all the terror .
and horror.
and detestation in our lives.
the one thing.
i fear most.
is life.
and this.
and those.


i am thankful.
truly fucking thankful.
to have.
it takes over my life.
love has changed it all.
flipped the script.
love for.
my family of friends.
and my friends.
that i love.
and my love.
thats my friend.


thank you.


He went to Jareds!

just kidding.
but he did buy me flowers.

good boy.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

whats with today, today.

is our 2 year anniversary.
and as much as id like to believe.
that we are one of those couples.
who go out to fancy dinners.
and by cards.
and flowers and shit.
after two years i have come to the realization.
and satisfaction.
that we arent.
we dont try to hard.
we dont make mountains out of molehills.
we fuck and make up.
we watch movies.
and eat food.
we hate thing.
we go places.
we just love each other.
we are best friends.
and hes the best.
two years long.
two years strong.

i cant wait to go home.
well im kinda torn between.
staying in my house.
cooking my own dinner.
and going home and relishing in the warmth.
and kindness of my family.
im takin the dogs home with me.
which is a holy monumental feat for the boy.
i cant believe hes gonna let me take the babies away.
i on the other hand.
am frickin stoked.
i know that they will love the cold Lynchburg air.
and all the free space to run and play a poop.
i can smell it now.

i think i need to go home.
clear my head.
hang out.
chill in.

i was going through some old myspace.
messages the other day.
like way back.
like 2004.
before i moved to the city.
and before i knew how to conduct
myself like a real lady.
i realized how stupid.
and naive.
and redundant i was.
i tried to hard.
and it showed.
oh well.

now im older.
and wiser.
and flyer.
than ever before.
and ive got great feelings about
LP 2009.
i think its going to wonderful.

im still excited.



im going to thailand.

but shhh...
its a secret.
Ive got so many things to write about.
my head is bursting with thoughts.
and ideas.
and emotions galore.
ive been very busy.
and its not stopping.
ill have to finish this later.



i watch this.
going over.
changing places.
turning around into something new.

i watch this.
run from one corner to the other.
shifting in its skin.
bursting into bloom.
cowering from with in.

i watch this.
lose all hope and fall aside.
learning to communicate
with languages that are innate.

im breathing.
pressing life into you.
pushing myself so deep with in this.
i feel bones and spirit and heart.
all that i am in to shards.
to share.

between the two.
of them.
theres nothing left.
behind closed eyes
its as bright as it was
when we left.
in front of your face.
is too close to call.
underneath your skin.
it were the chips will fall.
as they may.

this is absent of malice.
this is unintentionally crude.
forgive me for my silence.
and what shall be left in its wake.
this is underestimated renouncement.
never ending.
give and take.


phat beatz

I want to dj.
I think the whole world needs to get down
to the shit I jam to in my head.
You just fuckin wait.
LP 09
Blowin up spots like 911.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

i dont want to grow up. im a toys r us kid.

back on my grind today.
after spending all of yesterday.
lounging around the apartments.
sniffling and sulking.
i did get to watch Dr. Phil.
which always makes me happy.
im at about 70% today.
but im here.
doing what i do.
trying to smile through the sore throat.

my life is starting to really frustrate me.
it just seems like i have something.
and then i dont.
or as soon as i get ahead.
i get shoved back.
and even though i feel this way everyday.
it seems like i have to talk about it.
to keep my head from exploding.

ive been doing relationship stuff.
like paying for his car to get fixed.
and organizing the bills.
it makes me feel old.
as shit.
and how much i envy the lives.
of my vampire friends.
who are so detached.
i remember the days when i could care less about sleep.
and now it seems like thats all i want to do.
there are nights ive chosen sleep over sex.
and i love sex.

i dont know what has come over me.
i thought with a new age.
id find new things about myself.
new things that would make me a new person.
but instead it seems like its new responsibilities.
and new trials and tribulations.
new reasons to complain.

his mother is coming this weekend.
and i love her.
she is very sweet.
and very kind.
and very foreign.
and he loves her so much.
which is nice to see him so happy.
i met her for the first time.
this time last year.
i went home with him for Thanksgiving.
which was awesome.
his family is great.
alot like mine.
laid back.
and fun.

but for this year.
im going to the Burg.
as ive gotten older i appreciate.
Lynchburg more and more.
now i use it as an escape.
its like i can go there .
and be free of everything.
and everyone.
and no body knows im there.
and nobody can find me.

exactly where i want to be.
and its warm.
and there's my family.
and they love me.
just the same.

i cant wait.

i honestly thought about not going.
and just staying home.
and keeping to myself.
cooking a lil dinner.
hanging with the dogs.
in solitude.
but then.
i thought about the fact.
that im sure.
mid way into a Full House marathon.
with a face full of over cooked turkey.
id burst into tears.
and sob all over my cranberry sauce.
i am way to emotional to spend the holidays alone.

when it comes to christmas.
im hoping he will come with me.
even though it seems like.
the only gifts we are giving each other.
is a head ache.
and maybe on some occasions some head.
speaking of head.
i dont understand.
what has become of my libido.
there are days in my life.
where all i think about it cock.
thats all.
it doesnt matter what kind it is.
what shape color size.
i just want it.
and i come home.
and its there.
and thats great.
and then there are those days.
when i would touch it with a ten foot pole.
and i come home.
and its there.
and that sucks.
and then there are the days in between.
where ive chosen to wack off.
instead of get off.
or the days were ill give a hj here.
a bj there.
and call it quits.

i have no problem with bjs.
or hjs.
i think its a vital part of any relationship.
Kat William said so.
but i just want to want to have sex.
like i used to.
and its not that im not attracted to him.
he fucking gorgoues.
incredibally sexy.
and has the hands of a god.
i still feel like the urge.
the need.
that raw.
i want to rip your clothes off.
and lick every inch of your body.
emotion is hit or miss.
i just want him to fuck me.
simple as that.
no romance.
none of that sissy ass bullshit.
just fucking fuck me.

all i want for christmas is to cum.


so this is how i die.

so this is how it ends.
a box of Kleenex in one hand.
echinacea tea in the other.
tears in both eyes.
and a bad attitude.

i am a horrible sick person.
i wine.
i moan.
i pout and cry.
i roll around in my own snot and what not.
until im sticky and smelly and cant stand the site of myself.

my head feels like a ive got the harlem globetrotters bouncing around.
and my nose is raw and itchy.
my throat is swollen.
and its cold outside.
and i am on the verge of death.

i feel it creeping up.

this shall be the death of me.


make like nike, and just do it.

so here it is.

besides the fact that i woke up today.
too early
with vaginal cramps.
a hangover.
and what im sure is the flu.
or mono.
or both.

i didnt feel a thing.

not older.
certainly not wiser.

my birthday was lovely.
i saw smiles everywhere.
my girls were great.
my boys were even better.
now if only i remembered it all.

so what do i do at 22?
what do i do now.
do i make it happen?
do i take a wrong turn?
do i sit back and wait for this to pass?

this life of mine is hilarious.
its full of awkward events.
and bad decisions.
and funny saying.
and silly faces.

my life is over flowing with.
drunken adjectives.
avoided topics.
underestimated advances.
warm hands.
cold feet.

this life of mine.
cant wait to begin.
it cant wait to grow legs and walk away.
it want to shake hands.
and kiss babies.
the life wants to phone it in.
and turn it out.

this life is going to change the game.
flip the switch.
make niggaz look twice.
grab they ice.

this life of mine can hardly wait to.
kiss on the mouth.
to hit it home
the life cant wait to change.
to stay the same.
cant wait for you or him or me.

this life is independently owned.
this life is sweatshop free.
this life is alive.

lets begin.


now thats what im talking about.

oh snap.

holla at them big girl birthday presents.

my boyfriend is sneaky.
sneaky sneaky.
this whole week hes been talking about
how he got me
the best thing ever.
how hes the best.
how excited im going to be.

so sunday he was gone allll day.
all day.
i had no idea.
and all week.
and hes been sneakin around.
running out and dropping things off.

so yesterday.
he tells me hes going to take me to class early.
he picks me up from work
and drops me off at my 7 pm class.
at like 6: 05.
speeeeeds away.

so im like.

go to class.
come home.

he says you cant go in the bedroom yet. ive got to put away some presents.

yeah, okay.

so he comes out.

closes your eyes, he says.

he proceeds to wrap a scarf around my eyes.
and leads me into the bedroom.

open your eyes!

fuck yes.

he bought me a bed!

not just any bed.
the bed ive been wanting.
pining over.
dreaming about.
my ikea dream.

a beautiful cast iron bed frame.
new amazing mattress set.
and a gorgeous bed set.
with a bed skirt for christ sake.

holy shit.

now i think you must understand.

you see.
for the duration of our 2 year relationship.
we have been kickin it straight richmond style.
cuddling close on a beat up.
beat down.
terrible, horrible, old mattress.
on the floor.
this mattress.
which he has had for years.
had seen its fair share of use.
from his other girlfriends.
his hook ups.
to friends.
and dogs.
and god knows what else.

it hurt his back.
sank in the middle.
leaned to the left.
and was defiantly on its last leg.

and me.
being the woman i am.
just wanted a nice.
comfortable bed.
with a cast iron frame.
swedish design.
with 10 pillows.
and soft sheets.
to laying in.
love in.

so when i opened my eyes.
to the best birthday gift ever.
i must say.
i was pleasantly surprised.

last night i slept like a baby.
in my new bed.
with my old man.
and a big smile.

i love my life.


your killin me smalls.

i am murderously bored.
i did nothing.
at all.
i sat at my desk.
played on the internet.
cried a lil.
you know.
the usu.
if the internet is such a vast.
source of information.
why do i spend so much time .
on facebook?

so the birthday.
after months of keeping my fingers crossed.
and holding my breathe.
its finally here.

and i am freaking out.
all these thing are falling together.
and falling apart.
and i just want to have a good time.
i just want to put my freakum dress on.
and shake my ass.

that is all.

after friday nite i think ill be able to breathe a lil better.
i just want this sex toy party to go over well.
im shakin in my boots.

as far as saturday goes.
after all the hustle and bussle.
the mess and b.s.
im determined to have a good time.
im going to drink.
and laugh.
and smile.
and be with friends.
and enjoy myself.
im hoping for the best.

posi vibes.

and sunday.
the offical birthday.
will be spent at home.
with the boy.
and the dogs.
and the redskins.
and cake .
and presents.
and a hangover.
i cant wait.

i am turning 22.
my boobs are high.
my ass it tight.
my hair looks faaaaaaabulous.







queen for a day.

where is my birthday!
god i cant wait.
im going to freak.
i love presents.
i love smiling.
i love me.
and cake.
and fun.

and excuses to.
drink champagne.
and be needy.

me me me me me

Lauren Paige's Sexy Lady Sex Toy Party.


there will be sushi and wine and sex toys galore!


bitches are stupid.

they are.
and i can say that because i am a Bitch.
but not a stupid one.

you see.

i find myself going out of my way.
to call a Bitch out on her stupidity.
and not in a Stupid Bitch way.
but in a subtle.
" like omg, I think that Bitch was being a Bitch" kinda way.

sometimes i just laugh at them.
and then other time i just walk away.
mid Stupid Bitch sentence.

and ive always dealt with Stupid Bitches.
when i was younger
i used to get right uppity with them.
get in their faces.
waves my finger.
snap and slap.

but as i have grown older.
moved from town to town.
i find dealing with stupid bitches
a much easier task.

especially the Richmond Stupid Bitch.
who comes in all shapes and sizes.

from the "Frat Girl Slut" Stupid BitchTM.
to the "Hipster" Stupid BitchTM.
the"Omg you looked like me in 10th grade, Wanna Be" Stupid BitchTM.
oh and the "I work at the VCU Subway" Stupid BitchTM.
or the "Ghetto on the number 6 Bus" Stupid BitchTM.

they are everywhere.

As of late.
modus operandi with a stupid bitch.
has been to get em where it hurts.
Regina George style.
Ive been digging in the dirt.
and coming up with all sorts of amazing
Anti Stupid Bitch tools.

Those which i cannot divulge .
for jeopardy of compromising my Stupid Bitch war.

but rest assured that they are tactful and efficient.
And dont get me wrong.
Some of my best bitches are the stupid ones.
but if you cant differentiate between.
a Smart Bitch.
a Stupid one.

then you are probably the latter.

just sayin.



sometimes i dream im dying.
and then in my dreams i am awakened.

crisp and pleated.

colorful and asymmetrical.

clothes to me are a love/hate relationship

i love them because they hold my skin.
they show my soul.
they reflect what words and blogs and myspace cant.
they are the ultimate mode of expression.

and yet i loathe.
for me.
fickle and cheap.
always trying to retain the unsustainable.
living under and above my means.
never inbetween.

out of all the outfits.
that i once saw fit to be.
in all the closet ive begged borrowed and stole.
all the shoes ive worn down to the soul.

there are so many fashions.
i will never attain.
and so many that i love for a day.
then throw away.

i cant quite seem to put my finger on

who i am.
is held together with a whip stitch.

just the same as i constantly search for myself.
i am constantly searching for a representative of myself.

i want to be able to throw myself over my shoulder
to go to class.
i want to be able to wiggle myself into
a nice straightleged, dark denim me.
i need a warm LP to wear out on the winter nights.
or a soft silky me to slip into by the fire.

that fits me just right.

as a women.
as a fashion.
am nothing if not practical.
i need to be able to blend and bend.

i want it to be simple.
and separate.

muted and brilliant.

character efficient.

visual affective.

way below retail price.

as i reach into my wardrobe.
rummage and ravage through cotton/polyester blends.
those old scraps of who i used to be.
scream and shout back.
they say things.
as they find their way from hanger to the floor.
i find myself still reaching rummaging ravaging for more.
something different.
a hat.
a scarf.

all these things i yearn for to make myself complete.
all of these things my wallet breaks for.
as my common sense and sensibility.
shakes its head in defeat.

I die before i wake.
I pray to Lord.
My clothes, dont take.