Saturday, February 20, 2010

Men Simple, yet Hard

Men are simple but yet hard to explain. That’s a weird thing to say for a starting sentence, but it is true. I should know, out of my best friend list of 5 people, 2 of them are men. And those men are simple but hard to explain their actions. I said that phrase to a group of women today, when they were talking about their men and why haven’t they asked to marry them, and I got a reaction that, I could say was, mixed.

A woman said: No they are not simple to understand, they do not know what they want. That’s why they don’t want to get marriage or even have a stable relationship!

Well, I can vouch that men do know what they want in life. They want to be successful. That’s it. Watch any movie about men, any mob movie, and movie that has most of the population of men in it, its about them trying to be successful, or die trying. Or ask a man why they do illegal things to get money, they do it to one day get enough money so they can say that they are successful. Why do men put rims on their cars, or even have gold teeth, that prove that they did something so big and great that it earn them enough money to be successful to get those items. We women do the same with the Coach purses, and the Gucci shoes, but it’s not the same. Before a man decides to have a stable relationship to the point of marriage, then they need to be successful. Point Blank. Us women, we want to get married even if the success level isn’t there yet. Don’t get mad about that statement, because we know it’s true. Men need to feel like they can take care of you always. It is in their genes. They have always been taught that they are the bread winners and that even though the woman is making money too, that they can provide for you just in case something goes wrong. That will always be in that mind set. So if you’re in a relationship, and they don’t have a job, or they are not trying to get some money in their hand, they are not about to marry you. And if they want to get married to you, then you are not about to marry a man, you’re about to marry a person that wants you to take care of him so later on in life, he can leave you, with all the things you taught him, and find him another woman to show off his successful trait.

Being with a man that wants to grow, and is trying to be a better man by going to college, and getting a job that will make him proud is great but you have to bare with him. That’s the hard part, the waiting for a ring. You want it now; especially if you think the time is right. And it’s hard to explain why it’s time to a man, because in a man’s head, he thinks that, why is this woman rushing me if I’m not ready. Then it gets harder, and can’t be explained. He knows when he going to get married, then he will tell you. If you ask him after a year of dating and he barely just got his new job, then you’re not going to like the answer to his question, and it gets hard for you. He isn’t going to drag on the relationship for the rest of his life, if he really wants to marry you so you have to give it time. If you can’t wait, get a hobby, learn how to sew, take a cooking class, something that will get your mind out of wondering if he is going to ask you. Because the more you sit on that statement “This ninja is never going to marry me.” We as a woman go crazy, and when we go crazy we take it out of our men. Then it gets hard for the man, and then it’s hard to explain the actions afterward. There you have it. In black and white. Take the advice or leave it, but someone gave me that advice two years ago, and I should send that person a fruit basket, or bake some brownies.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

When is Being Yourself a Bad Thing?

The other day my cousin came to visit me, and the first thing I wanted to do is slap the crap out of her. She had black and red lace front weave, a pink, low cut shirt that said “Barbie”, which would even make a nun blush, with booty shorts on (mind you it’s 30 degrees outside) and a fake black fur coat. She became a damn Barbie, a person of the Nicki Minaj army of clones, and girl that in my book is a cheap as hell. I have taught her better than that!! Instead of preaching from jump, I have decided to let it go, until she opened her mouth. We were talking being a diva and she smacks her lips and said

“I’m a Diva, and I’m only 20, I demand respect, and I get it!”

Huh?! Respect?! Dressed like a Barbie?! No ma’am! So I went off, I had to, my brain couldn’t take her fakeness anymore, and this is what I said:

Being something that is a trend doesn’t automat ally gain you a “diva” status, this is earned, I’m not even in that status yet. Being a diva to me is someone that has been though the world; ups and downs without letting it get to you. That means you don’t hide yourself in a different face like a “Barbie” to deal with your troubles, you deal with your troubles and overcome it with a positive outlook.

My cousin rolled her eyes and said:

“Girl, please, being proud of your body like me, isn’t negative, its positive, that’s why I get attention. I’m not hiding from no one, I’m gaining a lot. That’s why I know I’m a diva, I’m proud of myself”

Me, being, me, laughed at the comment, and said:

Being proud of yourself, means that you show yourself and others that you feel this way. Wearing slutty clothes, and bouncing around in the middle of club doesn’t give you positive attention, it gives you’re the ‘she is just an easy fuck’ attention. See men doesn’t just see you and say “Hey behind that Barbie clothes and makeup, she will be the mother of my children” They will see you as “a easy lay, or a one date at the soul food restaurant and then back seat action” Men doesn’t have that power to see your soul, men just sees your appearance and go from there. That’s why I know for a fact that you don’t have pride for yourself, because if you did, you wouldn’t put yourself in that version.

My cousin didn’t like that statement and needed to find something to say back to shut me up, ah how about the fact that since I wasn’t raised in the hood, I’m not real enough speech. I won’t go to details about the speech, because every time I hear it, I lose brain cells, but the short version of it is: since I’m not from the hood, I wouldn’t understand that its different to find a man there and that she was raised to be like this, so she has to do what she can to gain this respect to get what she wants.

I hate this speech, because it hurts me in a different way than she thinks. It hurts me because she was taught that being a slut, dressing like a slut, or even being a slut sometimes will get you far in this world, and that what she is doing isn’t being a slut. Her role models are the females on TV that are getting the most attention at the time like Ms. Minaj, or the females around the block, that get men to play for their light bill that month. But you have to understand that Nicki Minaj is selling sex right now to get more records sold, and your friend around the block at to screw that man a lot to the point of trapping him to pay for that bill. But later on in life, when Ms. Minaj turns 40, no one wants to see her tits anymore, and may see her in a Young Money reunion on BET, and that female on the block, well either she will live off warfare, too lazy to get a job, wonder why her life is hard, and blame everyone else but yourself. Being these so called “Role Models” because you say it’s the only way to get attention from the men in your hood, then you need to get out of your hood, so you can grow. If they only respect you because of your sexual ways then you need to quit hanging out with those people. They get the word respect mixed up with the word easy. They don’t want to please someone that takes hard work to be with, and being with an easy girl, means easy way to keep, which means they can treat you any kind of way. That’s why I would never make it in her world, and it hurts me because she really believes in this.

Here is the thing ladies and gentlemen, being someone in the entertainment world, isn’t going to get you far in the real world. You have to be YOURSELF! Going on the internet and showing off your tits because you want that attention high, well bite you in the ass later on in life. Use that COMMON SENSE that is in your mind to be a better you. You can’t be someone else to gain something better, that’s life. And if you need to follow someone in your life, find a classy, well rounded person that didn’t need to throw sex at someone to gain ground. I follow Sade sometimes because she never had to be crazy, or a stereotypical person to get far in life. She was Sade, and she never changed to gain more people to love her, she was, well, herself.

My cousin after we had our talk, she walked out of my house pissed because from just her outfit, I went off. Maybe because I’m tired of seeing our women going down the toilet because they feel they can’t get by without being something negative. That by just wearing a Barbie shirt, or having “five star chick” tatted on their chest would somehow get them far, rather than being their selves. My mother always told me that if you’re being someone else, how someone would even know the true you. I rather have people know that I’m an ‘anime loving, football crazy, sushi martini adoring, and true hip hop listening’ nerd any day. Have a good day everyone!

P.S. Nicki Minaj is a pretty good rapper, so I’m not dissing her. I’m just upset that she helping women become something that they shouldn’t.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Spider Senses Of Haters

There is three things that I look forwarded to in life: getting my first kiss, finishing college without harming the financial aid building at Prairie View A&M, and my soul mate asking to marry him. Well I got my first kiss to a guy that wasn’t that amazing, I finished college without going to jail, and last year, Caleb, a man that I am head over heels for, asked me to marry him, by the lake where we are going to build our dream home at, later on in life. So I’m on cloud 9 that whole weekend. I called my friends and family; I looked at my ring about a thousand times, and already registered to about 3 wedding websites. I was just plain happy, well until I go to my Monday night gin card game. See I love playing gin, my friend Jennifer, started a gin league 2 years ago and asked me to join. Of course I would join, playing gin after a stressful Monday, and hanging out with my best Latina friend Jennifer, that’s just plain prefect. And with martinis added to the fun, can always make a girl smile. So when you sit with a group of females, with nice drinks on deck, of course you’re going to talk about your day, your weekend, basically everything what is going on in your life. And most of the time, we talk about men and our relationships. See I don’t brag about my relationship, why do such thing, I know that I’m happy, so I keep it to myself, because of the fact of, there isn’t a reason for people think I’m rubbing it at your face. But my hater, Rebecca, she talked about her man ALL the time. Her man was her life, her savior, her everything, but her man was questionable. He was still married, still living with his wife, and didn’t seem to want to leave, even though they looked at Tiffany rings after the first year of dating. But if she was happy with that life, then I’m not going to stop her, I would throw in some advice and see if she catches it, and if not, then that’s her. I’m here to play the game of gin, not here to start drama. So the weekend after the big engagement, I kind of wanted to calm it down, but I had to show Jennifer the ring and do the jump up and down dance with her since I’m about to ask her to be a bridesmaid. She saw, she screamed in Spanish, we danced, and then I felt my hand being pulled to the far left. I saw Rebecca looking at my ring, eyes wide open. Others from the league heard Jennifer scream and circled us, of course I had to tell everyone my story, and I got the corny “Awwww”, you got to love the corniness. After I told how he asked me, we did our corniness for another couple of minutes, I grab my martini glass, declared a round of gin, and we begin. We were talking about the new collections of shoes from Nine West, and Rebecca stop and said

“Monique, are you ready to get married for real? I mean he is younger than you.”

My spider senses of hate started to hit me, but hell, it’s probably a false alarm, maybe she is concerned friend, even though I didn’t think of her as one. So I answered her, saying that Caleb is only 3 years younger than me, and he has common sense to know what he is doing before he jumps to a big deal called marriage. She gave me a look like she was about to throw up. I guess she didn’t like that answer, which I didn’t understand, because it was an answer that should have work for her. O well, back to gin, and about to beat Jennifer for the first time in my Life!

“But Monique, don’t you want to enjoy your single life a little bit more? I mean hell, why rush in to marriage now?”

Spider senses of Hate, which now I will call the SSH, hit me hard enough I didn’t pick up the 9 of hearts I needed to beat Jennifer. Damn it, no talking trash this hand. Then I explain that I have enjoyed my single life for a while now, and even though it was a fun but yet soap opera scripted life, it was time to give it up to be with the man I love, her face looked like someone grab her foot and bite her big toe hard. Then she was quiet for a while. The next hand was passed out, after Jennifer winning, as usual. Then after 30 minutes the last jab was thrown.

“Well I know when I get married; I’m getting the same ring as yours but, going to get that 4 carat diamond. That’s what my boyfriend said to me. So yall better watch out, because that’s going to be a REAL ring”

What the hell? My SSH told me to hit her with a chair now, and tell her to shut up after the fact. Well in hell would you say that to me, be happy that I’m getting married, I mean its hard right now to find a good man, give me this night to celebrate the fact that a good man wants me for life, not the fact that your man hasn’t asked you to marry you, or even left his wife for you yet. It is not my fault that your relationship status is fucked up. It is not my fault that you pick the wrong men, so why start hating on me? But happy for me, and if your jealous, just say that you are, and we can continue to play gin. I won’t rub it in, hell, I wouldn’t care that you were jealous, that’s called emotions. I’m jealous because you have that new Coach Purse, o well, let’s live life.

See haters, they don’t know how to live and breathe normal life. They look at your life, and are pissed because it should work out for them. Instead of fixing their life so they can be happy, they will start to hate. It’s like they don’t know how to improve their life, so they want your life to go down the fire so they can welcome to their horrible world of negative. Then, everything they see, or do, it’s because they want to make you jealous of them, and if that emotion isn’t knowledge, then they will start to hate. They will buy a new car, you will say “That’s a new car, I love it” but if you don’t say those words “That’s a nice, new car, I am jealous of this item” that’s when they will rub it in for another 10 minutes, un like me when I don’t have time to rub it in. Their life needs that high, that, “I’m better than you” cocaine. Being humble isn’t their vocabulary, but being negative is. Then went you get caught up in their hate spider web, they will slowly whisper in your ear. See that’s what Rebecca was trying to do in my ear, spin her hate silk tangle web. If you have a better life, they will try to make sure that life will disappear by giving you shitty advice. “Your man hasn’t given you roses in a while? Girl he is cheating on you” kind of advice. A lot of people fall in that web of none concern and we think it’s a friendship advice, not just a female that hates on you and give you shitty information. I know for a fact that Rebecca has done this before to some of the females at our gin league. Give advice, relationships fall, men are confused of why their ladies are pissed, and they don’t tell them their real reason why their girl is fighting about roses, it’s because there is a crazy woman whispering in their ear, and don’t have a SSH. Then at the end of the day, she won, everybody else lose. Her life, her relationship problems doesn’t seem as bad because, at least it’s not as bad as yours. That is all it matters at the end. She got her high, life is complete. But for me, I’m not going to fall for that. I know that my relationship is good; I know my friends will give me their honest opinion, and I know my life doesn’t need a hater. But what about you, reader, do you have a hater in your life, and don’t know how to get rid of them? Here is your answer: ignore them! Ignore what they have to say, or do, and then it will piss them off to the point that they have nothing to do with you, they can’t get their high from you, and then they will go to their next victim. They will not talk to you anymore, because they will never your true friend anyway. If they were your friend, they will fight to keep your friendship. A hater doesn’t have the time or that emotion to be humble to care. They will pop up every now and then to say their part to see if you will get caught up, but give up quicker than usual because it is too much time and effort to continue the fight. And if they start a rumor about you, make the people that really care about your will begin clear about the rumor and just move around. The people that do care will believe you, not a little hater.

So after that night of hating, and me know giving a damn about she said, she would try one more night, and then without any shots fired back, she stop. Then she stops talking me all together. That was 6 months ago. What a peaceful time. Finally beat Jennifer in gin too. But now that the wedding is closer, she is slowly trying again…let’s see what will happen next..

Wednesday, January 6, 2010


My childhood isn't like yours. Stop with the rolling of the eyes, I know everyone childhood is different and hard. Hell being a kid is a hard issue. But mine was one of those that no one really thinks about.

See I was an only child until I was 6, then my mom gave birth to my brother. Of course when you’re young and you’re going to have a new thing in your life it's a big thing, especially when it's someone that is going to be your sibling. I was excited when he was born; I knew he was going to be my heart and soul. The first time he saw me, when my mother brought him home from the hospital, he took my finger, and smiled. My mom said that it was his first smile, and it was for me. You couldn’t tell me ANYTHING for the rest of the day. When he was two we would play together and he would start to say my name every time he would see me. It was an amazing thing to have him say it and smile knowing it was a joy to see me. But when he was three, he started to change. He all his things like potty training, using his fork, all the way to talking just disappeared. Then when my parents started to go to doctors to figure out why, he started to have seizures. Everyday. Sometimes in the store or while we would play. He had seizures all the time for a month until I didn't live in my house anymore but in the hospital. I was nine then, I couldn't explain why I was sad at school, or why I didn't want to be with my friends. Why I didn't care about doing homework or just caring at all, I couldn't tell them that my brother is sick and doctors didn't know why. I couldn't be mad at my brother because it's not his fault. He was my heart and he was hurting, hints why I was hurting. When he turned five, he stops talking. Doctors say because of all the seizures but also because they said he was autism. This was in the 90's where that autism was new. If not new, studied but couldn't figure out how u can become autism. Nothing really, but my parents didn't give up and started to put him in public school. They called for different ways to improve his life. Their marriage grew from it. But it took me a little bit more to grow. When ur a teenager, other kids don't understand why your brother is different, and when kids don't understand and wish not to, they will be assholes. I think during my life of middle school I was in several fights when the kids would make fun of my brother. That it was funny that he couldn't talk and he had to ride the small bus. Called him retarded and said the apple didn't fall from the tree. So I fought for my brother. My parents had to get me from school. And they didn't need this. But I had to fight for my brother's honor.

I know that I shouldn't have did that now, and in high school and in college it got better but I was always reserved about someone coming over my house, that if you do, you had to be understandable about my brother. I lost friends not feeling easy coming to my house. I lost boyfriends because they don't understand that if you want to be with me, you have to respect my brother. I was a protective sister, and always on the defense about my little brother, explain his disorder to people who questioned, but at the mean time, I started to research about autism. Medical journals became my friend; I became open about child phy. and understood my gift of helping out others with the same issues. Maybe that’s why when I finished college; I wanted to work in education, teaching Life Skills classes. When I started I found out that I wasn’t alone with feeling the way I felt. I met people my age that fought people who was misguided about autism, and other disorders and had the drive to help.
I look at my brother now, him going to his 20’s, he taught me more than I can teach him. I taught me every lasting love, which some people couldn’t understand. I love him very much, he is my weakness, and he is my heart.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Blind with Love

Crazy feeling right now, that feeling which makes you wondered if you were being followed. I look back in the crowd of people that was in my sight but, I was looking for that person that is guilty of being my starker, but with no luck. I didn’t want to mess up my day with my boyfriend of a year now, Caleb, especially since I convinced him to go “little black dress” shopping. No man wants to be drag around the galleria, on high noon Saturday, without entertainment for them. He was a trooper, well he had to, because I’m a shopper in heart, and I don’t make up my mind until you shake the crap out of me and tell me the honest opinion, not the “yeah that’s nice” speech so we can leave the store. Anyway I’m drifting away from what is really going on, that someone is following us. So I asked Caleb to look this time, he gave me that blank stare, and then turned around.

“Yeah Moni, some black dude was walking near us, but when I turned, he bolted to Gucci Store, want to see who it is?”

Of course I want to see who it is! Especially since he bolted to Gucci, gives me a reason to walk in the store, with the no money I have and to look around, pretending I have a black card. So I just grab his hand and walked over to see HIM. Damn it, of all the people in the world, why would it have to be Dwight. That man was reason why I couldn’t trust men for years, the bitter woman that I was for many years about relationships. My college love, the man that blinded me from common sense. That was Dwight.

See Dwight was a guy I met after my first my love broke my heart during my freshman year in college. I met him at the club, (strike one), already blinded my rage and drinks, he would just smile and dance with me. I loved his smile, very Morris Chestnut. Then he pulled me aside and whispered that he wanted to talk to me in a quiet place. I pointed to the parking lot, and told my friends to come with me. They agreed, and I talked to Dwight at the parking lot for hours. It was nice, talking about my first love, him talking about his recent breakup, and how we wanted to find someone to hang out with that could understand how to really be in a relationship. He made me feel, safe after the few hours of talking, and I thought it was love in first sight. Numbers was exchanged, calls were made, dates began, and then sex was in the picture. After a month of dating, I thought he was the one, and after three months, he asked me to marry him. (strike two). He asked while we were walking on the boardwalk in Kemah. It was perfect. This was the perfect relationship, everyone couldn’t understand how this relationship was going so quickly, and worked. It think it was because we saw each other so much, and were in this sex, didn’t want to get hurt again, haze that our common sense button didn’t work at the time. The sixth month of us dating, he slowly became distant. I didn’t like that, because I made him my world, I was so deep in this haze that nothing else mattered, but him. He would be going to Humble, which is 20 minutes away from Houston, more and more. He would go and visit is cousin a lot more. I would ask to him if I could go with him and he would flatly tell me no. Common Sense Button WORK!!! But it didn’t, and I didn’t question him. I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want to be broken again, but after a month of him doing this behavior, I was already feeling these things. So while we were having dinner, I got the nerve to ask him while he was talking about the wedding to be. I hold on to my ring and asked him “Dwight, whats going on in Humble?” He cut his baked chicken, sip on a glass of water, then said, “Monique, I am visiting my child, and my baby mother. They live in Humble, and I’m trying to figure out what to do with them.” Looked at me, and then ate his chicken. He just told me that he has a child, and a babymomma. He had told me in the past, that he didn’t have kids. He never talked about a child. Or a baby momma. He even said that he wasn’t sure he didn’t want kids until we turned 30. Never added this topic in our long talks we had at nights, or even our quick I love you phone calls. Nothing about a kid. Nothing about another woman. I stare about my glass of tea for about a couple of minutes while Dwight would pretend that this chicken dinner was the best in the world. (Strike 3, Red Soxs win). Then he cleared his throat and said “Moni, don’t be mad, its just a child. And I haven’t slept with his mother in a month, I just want you”. Common Sense button blinked in red. I looked at the ice tea glass, saw it being picked up, and saw it being thrown at Dwight. Then I saw me walking to the door, I saw me going to the nearest gas station, I saw me calling my friend Tyense. I saw him coming to pick me up ten minutes later. I saw Dwight running after the car. I saw me going home to my bed, then I saw darkness. I had my first panic attack. It wasn’t fun. I didn’t leave my room for two days. Dwight came the third day telling me that I was selfish to leave him, and that he wanted me and his baby momma to get to know each other since he wanted both of his in his life. He wanted his cake and eat it too. That he knew about his child after the first month of dating, but he was so happy with me that he didn’t want to break up with me. Also he liked his baby momma, so he didn’t want to end that too. He wanted both of us, living together after I’m done with college. O and after college, he didn’t want me to go to grad school, he felt that he should be the bread winner, and I shouldn’t make more money than him. He said all this with a straight face. I threw my ring with a stone face. I went back in my room, but I couldn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything. My emotion button was broken. I was 20 years old then, and I didn’t believe in love anymore. It took me 7 years to really let myself love again because I had this issue about trust. I never would tell my friends about my issues because I didn’t want to be bitter about love to them. I would give them advice about how to be healthy in relationships, but I didn’t use it for myself. I was afraid and I couldn’t come to terms with those feelings until I met Caleb, who taught me to not be. The funny thing about Dwight was after our break up, he would call me to tell me that he made a mistake. That his baby momma became a lesbian and that he found out that it wasn’t his child. He would call me on my birthday and on Thanksgiving, the day he asked me to marry him. The last 3 years I didn’t pick up his calls. He couldn’t bring me down, I couldn’t be with a man that had that mind set. He made me still believe that love in first sight is for suckers. But I thank him for teaching me a lesson that some people learn while they were in a marriage.

Back to Gucci, when I saw him, I didn’t want to throw anything at him, or scream at him. I didn’t want to hurt him like he hurt me, because it wasn’t worth the reaction. I was next to someone that loved me, and I wasn’t blind by Caleb’s love, I was in love with all eyes open. I hold Caleb’s hand and said “O that just Dwight, want to get some sushi?” Caleb, who knew the story, gave a mean face towards Dwight, but then looked down at me and said “Yeah Moni, but after that, pick a dress already!” And we walked away, me giving Dwight a goodbye glance. He gave me the same and smiled.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Different Promise

Just his smile can melt me. Knowing that he will always be there, makes me want to stay. I understand why, he was only made for me. Knowing this makes this day go smoother. When he laughs, I know that he won’t have a disappointing night, order drinks, Yes I would love this plate, talking about old times, and planning new. Yes I think that night will be nice. Can it be sooner? Jump of the heart when he grabs my hand. Only looking at you when there are others are lurking about. Yes he is mine. I’m not going to mess this up. Dessert ? Only with a promise..kiss outside the car, kisses inside the car. More, more. Like a drug, how can I kick this emotion. Damn he drove back home so quickly..should I ask him to come inside? No not tonight, I can’t mess this up. Walk to the door. A smile from his face, another promise has been made. Kiss lightly. Close the door and watch him walk to his car. Look at my cell. Wait for his call. Shower off this guilty pleasure. Dry, come back to phone, a text. “I miss you”. Damn. Hope this one works…

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Start of Something New

Yesterday, my best friend Anthony decided to start a blog. He took up the time to do what I said that I was going to do for about a year now. He did two posts, made an account for it, and just did it without no one stopping him, or finding a way to get out of it. And it’s a GOOD start for his blog. It made me, Monique, the writer that was suppose to be published at 23, and have Oprah read the book, fall in love with it, and make 10 million women read it, laughing and crying the whole time. But now that I’m 27 and barely done with the first half of this magical book, and Oprah is retiring in a couple of years, I’m kinda screwed out of luck with that. I just find reasons to not write anymore. My first love, my first outlet on life, and I abandon it like horrible baby daddy, or a rich man that doesn’t want to pay his taxes. Why? Why do something like run from your joy. Maybe I think that I’m not good enough to write anymore. Or maybe I just grew to live the real world that I don’t believe in my young dreams. See when I was a teenager, my dreams made sense. All I had to do is finish college, have this great job, and with this great job, my dreams will come to reality quicker. That’s, the inner spark in you, that little child that still lives in you that still believes in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, and with a cardboard box, you can make your dream house, with that red Barbie car on the side. Its in us! But when you grow older, it slowly dissolves. You let the real world be your ether. And that’s what happened to me. I mean I might write something on facebook little note thing about something that just drives my nerves, or write on myspace to eat up time, but that’s nothing to me. That’s not going to bring back my joy. I want it back.

So then you’re asking me, Monique, how is a blog going to make things better for you and your joy? Well I’m glad you ask kind sir or madam. I know that a blog will actually make you work at it. Its different than the other social networks, because it won’t get lost in the news feed craziness. You write a note? Great! No one will read it. They are too concerned about what Bobby said about Stacey at status lines, then call their friends and start some other drama. Don’t lie, we all do it. Facebook is our fake reality show. Tracey says she isn’t in a relationship anymore?! Let me call Nikki and gossip about it for an hour. We all do it. I know I do. So writing a note for people to read isn’t a great place. Then myspace, shit, when is the last time you checked your account there? No, I will wait for you to answer that. I figure if I write a blog, and slowly send it to my friends, that actually will read it, and not front about it, I will have a little reading base. Not a lot, but a little. Then with that, and input with them, that spark will come back. My joy will appear. And if not, well I will find another way. So I will be a poser for now and do this. I also think that it will be my cheap emotional fix, my free Prozac, when my day is unbearable, releasing my feelings, and leaving it there on the computer screen, to not stem on the pass. So I will start this story, and I hope you will enjoy it. If not, believe me, this is the internet, find something on YouTube to entertain you.

First I guess I need to introduce myself, my name is Monique; I’m from the greatest city in the world, (well next to where Sade and Prince are from) Houston Texas. It’s the home of die hard football fans, REAL tex mex food, Patrick Swayne, rappers Scarface and UGK, and the highway 610. I was born a Taurus 80’s baby, which means a stubborn person that had great music playing early in life. My parents raised me with a balance, knowing what the world can give me, and knowing what education can get me. They never forget where they can from, and reminded me daily what could have happened, and what can happen to me, if I would be like everyone else. When your young and you’re getting this information, you thought that they were just being a pain to you. Now I think they were smarter than a lot of teachers and about 80% of world leaders. So now I thank them for that. During my teenager years I grew to love southern/mid west rap, anime, long but page turning books, cute basketball players, Prince, museums and shoes. I was a band nerd, with thick glasses, but I had friends that would understand the ways of being a nerd. And not only a nerd, but a black nerd in a white high school. I was misunderstood, different, confusing at times, but I loved being that way. I didn’t have to fit in at school; I didn’t have to be a stereotype, because I was a minnow in a huge ocean of fish, so I didn’t have to prove anything to anybody. That made me figure out what I was going to be. And at the time it was a writer. I would have my notebook in my backpack daily, and would write small stories, then my friend Nathan would come at me during 7th period and would read them, while not learning about History. It was a drive for me that was like a drug. He would criticize what I wrote and then I would improve it for the next day. Even though I complain about high school, I loved it. No one, expect my parents, warned me about college. And of course I didn’t listen to my parents, that is a unwritten law as a teenager, we don’t wash the dishes, and we don’t listen to parents, or someone who is legal guardian.

So then college years came, and so did my early 20’s loves turned to sushi, martinis, The Boondocks, and emotionally unstable men. College learning part wasn’t hard, it was the whole, “I’m in the real world and I don’t have no one to preach to me everyday thing”, that screwed me. I went to a black college, and my body kinda shaped to me different from others, so I got more attention than I did in high school. I didn’t handle it well at first, being shy, but being called “Stuck Up” because of my shy actions. But I learn how to grow out of that stage real quick. I just said things I meant, and didn’t have time to play games with others. I didn’t front, I didn’t act like everyone else in school. I figure I just be like I was in high school, but I had to talk a little bit more, and take more risk. That I didn’t have to prove to you to be my friend, or to respect me, that is you choice. And if you, didn’t want to be my friend, or even respect me, then that’s just one other person I didn’t have to worry about. With that, I made friends that are, still today, my bests of friends, like Anthony.

I would write more about me, but I should just leave a little mystery to my little blog, you know with the music bum, bum BUMMMMM, added on to it. But know that I’m a goofy, loving, confusing but funny woman, and I’m just me. I hope you enjoy my posts, and maybe this will jump start me…