Blame it on the Alcohol.

I'm not sure how my chill evening turned to this. Like. How can 2 people put in this kind of work? I haven't been hung over like this since college. (Or NYE morning, after getting randomly shit faced with Morgs when SM was up here last December)
No. Bueno.
On a lighter note, Bud Light? You still go down like water. I still love you the most.


In other, loosely related news. My crush (my old boss from my job last year) is over. And not by my choice. *Note to readers*:
When they BBM you to make plans to meet up? Good sign!
When they BBM you to make plans to meet up to talk about the crush they have and how its progressing? Shit. Bad sign!
When they BBM you to make plans to meet up to talk about the crush they have and how its progressing and the girl is fucking hot and you can't even hate? Kiss of death.
Just some littler pearls.
Happy Halloween to all you gangsters.

Can't stop; won't stop.

"Can't stop; won't Stop." was my facebook "about me" for he better part of college. And like.... that just how I do.
I work too much, and too hard. I do too much in general. going out, raging, not sleeping, raging. raging. working. homeless people stuff. stress. raging....

OK. I've said it. It's difficult to admit because I didn't think it was a problem. Until literally it was a problem.

This was Wednesday Night, after 72 straight hours of a new-asshole-ripping migraine.

IV DRUGGGSSSS

Hospital over crowding means I had my entire ER visit in public. yup. in that chair.

At St. Luke's, getting my life together. Thank you to Morgs, K.Beau, SM, and pretty much everybody else that was like "go to the Doctor. fool."

So. I took the day off work (!!!) and forewent 3 concerts this week. Trying to be more balanced, sleep more, drink more (water.) and not be such a can't-stop-won't-stop warrior anymore.


also for you 2birdsoneblog lovers out there....:

Sorr about the bag.

Junior Mafia's the Clique.

Sorry for Partying.

This note was left, presumably for E, after Morgs passed out in our bathroom floor. The story that lead up to this is epic, and I need a couple of days to get all the details straight, but.... DC-Meg, K.beau, Morgs and myself were all the way turnt up last weekend... story coming soon!

Celeb Sightings.

Okay, so....I seriously hate trying to do shit with famous people. I always love it in theory, but when I see them I get all nervous, and like.... it gets awkward. Morgs, K.beau and myself went to brunch in Harlem because Morgs boyfriend was in town. When we left we saw Paul Mooney (a local Harlemite) and spoke to him like we were old friends! Hopefully there will be more sitings in the future. (

2010 SSW Gala.

Easter Sunday Festivities.

Easter Sunday was spent at my darling friend, K. Beau's house. After a night out we all made our way back to her house and went to bed at 6am. Easter Breakfast was at 1pm and consisted of Domino's pizza & bread sticks... and of course, bacon. We watched Blue Crush and the majority of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air Season 1.

K.Beau got this awesome Shiny egg dying kit from the drug store so we gave it a try. (by "we" I mean me, K. Beau and Tommy gave about 50% effort.... Morgs and her friend Whitney were less that interested, hahaha) The blue egg at the bottom was my final product. What do you think??

The day ended with wonderful Sushi dinner wit K. Beau and Tommy. Wonderful Easter, indeed. 

More Sunday Craft pictures to come!

Party Pics.

my Best-guy-friend-Karl was in town this past weekend. Interestingly enough, Morgs (my bestie up here) has a best guy friend too. She met him in college at UNC and his name is Chase. Weirdly enough, Chase is Karls Brother. smallest world on earth. My girl from College LA also lives in NYC, so we all went to Marquee on Saturday night... here are a few highlights...

click to enlarge....

Party Pictures.

02.13.10-- k.beau's 24th.

A week in review.

9- number of tequila shots between the banker and I at our weekly dinner.
5- text/calls from the ghosts-of-boyfriends-past
6- hours spent at uptown salon to get my hair cut on a saturday.
9- weeks since I got my eyebrows done.
7- days that doug(who-i-secretly-wanna-make-out-with) is out of town on vacation.
1- hour fight on sat. with the banker, witnessed by Morgs. (Read: awkward)
1-bottle of champagne to the face at K.beau's 24th b-day, on sat.
1- o'clock pm reconciliation lunch tomorrow with said banker.
6- phone calls I've ignored from my accidental date of 2 weekends ago.
3- epic tales I plan to post before the week ends.

Venus vs. Mars-- Sports.

Morgs I often discuss the importance of football to a southern girl. Even if you personally don't give a shit about the game, you most likely have a boy (daddy, brother, boy) who does. An you need to have, at the least, a rudimentary understanding and appreciation for the game. I bring this up because, last night, the New York Football Jets lost to the Colts. It was a big deal for the city because the Jets haven't been this close in so long. They had an awesome season, and, oh yea....the Bankers blood is actually Gang Green.

On Saturday I sent him a morning text: " Morning Mister! J!E!T!S! today!!

to which he replied: "No, Babe. it's tomorrow... but I like that energy! you're excited!"


Like most fanatics, he's taking this loss like a death in the family and is in some sort of post-lost--football depression. I thought I'd know how to handle it, being raised in a house with a die-hard Tarheel and Steelers Daddy, and going to a legit state school.... but this time, I have no clue.

My approach so far has been silent support. I waited about an hour after the loss to hit him with the condolences text.... but what approach? Do I talk shit about the refs and the bs flags and penalties? Do I express heartbreak? No and No. 1) the Colts are fucking good. I had a feeling they were gonna win. and 2) My heart isn't broken. the Jets had a great season, their quarterback (Mark Sanchez, to the left) could get the business any day.... I mean, the world will go on. So I went with the "look on the bright side" angle.

Hours pass and I toss out the "How you doin?" text. Nothing. At this point I'm trying to calculate the impact of this loss on the rest of the week.... the next few weeks. I mean, I'm not exactly sure how much I'm able/willing to put up with. After thinking about it, I understand where he's coming from. This is a kid who rooted for NCSU all season because it's my Alma Mater (theres a pictures he sent me while I was home on Thanksgiving break and NCSU beat UNC). This super fan also got me Green knee socks (I love knee socks) for game day... I mean, he really cares about the team and while it's sort of funny... it's cute too.



I wake up to this text back "Goodnight Sesh.... thanks for all the love."

So maybe the healing has begun....?

Good thing it's over, and Monday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday are all days that are free game and football free.... for a few months....

It's Time to Talk About the Banker.

I'm going to try to divulge a little more here now in 2010. I get e-mails from yall asking questions about things I've posted and I wonder to myself, "why didn't I just explain that shit in the post"

Because of the aforementioned trend, I figured it's time to address the whole deal with the Banker. I can't really give a play by play because I'd be exhausted and you'd be annoyed... but the condensed version:

The banker is a great guy, with a couple carry-on sized bags of luggage. Me? I'm a dope chick.... I'm carrying a couple trunks. Oh well, that's life blah blah. Add in a sprinkle of bad timing, a dash of self-sabatoge, a pinch of too-many-outside-opinions, all mixed up in a Cool Hand Luke- sized "failure to communicate" and you pretty much can paint the picture.

All of that happened in 2009, and you know, eff that year, it's 2010 bitches! So I figure instead of going backwards, why not start with a little disclosure on the current state of affairs:

A lesson from boss bitch 101-- keep it movin.
If it's done it's done, when you're resolved, you're resolved. My old self (pre- New York) was cold-blooded in how I played the game.... I mean like, No phone-number-storing, ignore-you-all-night, never-respond-to-your-text, kick-you-out-cuz-this-bitch-don't-cuddle, forget-your-face-I-swear-I- will, type of stuff. So when I cut things off with the Banker right before finals because in Old Self's mind I was gonna go home for break, get over him in 10 days, then come back here, newly iceboxed and ready to continue in my don't love them, please leave them way of life. Well, let me just say. I have dug down real deep. I mean... real deep. And I can barely find even a hint of the Bad Bitch that used to live inside. Where is she? I don't know. But instead of taking a minute to evaluate the situation, I just figured If I can feign Boss mindset, the soon it will come back.

I could maintain the boss attitude for a little while. Like, I'd be spouting off to my girls, detailing how I'm "icing this muhfugga out all week" or how I'm "on to the next one" or how "I deleted ALLLLLL his shit." you know.... standard boss talk.....But what would I ALSO do?? creep on the down low. text, calls, emails, still all "boo's & babe"..... Pretty much fail.

I can't exactly quit. I just cannot walk away with my middle finger in the air. And I (was) completely baffled.

I mean, when it comes down to it, what I really think is that something is very different with my banker-friend and I. The big thing is that I true life care about the kid. And to be honest, that's a lot harder than not giving a fuck. Unfortunately "Sorry, I actually like you" isn't really an appropriate or coherent way to break things off with someone. Idk if y'all knew that or not....

This leads me to my 2nd 2010 resolution: Try a little.

Seems a bit vague, but I know what it means. for one-- it would be cool to take a risk or two, you know, with the feelings. Try and at least find a door for which someone could enter, if I can't completely lower the guard.... right? Really, the bankers best friend called me a couple nights ago and pretty much staged a one man intervention. Very intense, but it was sort of a good thing.

I was talking to a fellow Boss, Bateman. We often commiserate in the rediculousness of how a year ago thoughts/feelings/behaviors would have never even crossed our minds. This past week we swapped advice on everything from date outfits, to how to be less aloof. The best, by far was when we both admitted to trying on our respective man-friend's last names (hyphenated, of course). I mean, whatever, no biggie in real life.... but a biggie for a Boss.

Boss Bitch mentality? As K.Beau would say "great idea in theory, bad idea in practice." I don't want to be an Icebox anymore. but I don't want to be a stupid girl either. What I do know is that maybe I'll have to evolve, and evolution takes a lot of time. And a lot of the fittest just figuring out how to survive....

baby steps, y'all.

Auld Lang Syne

Thats me on NYE last year. SM and I were down in Washington, NC attending our sorority sister, LWJ, wedding. The townie that became my midnight kiss took that picture (as well as my dignity, lol)

New Years Eve is my absolute favorite holiday, ever since the ragers we used to throw in High School, C. House and Bex, along with our boyfriends were pros at planning. Each year someone had parents out of town, and I always had some shady co-worker to buy a few bottles....

This carried on into College and now this year:

SM and I (along with Morgs and her college friends) are going to M2 Ultra lounge, downtown. It's gonna be.... intense. I plan to take more pictures than is reasonable. As for 2010... I'm looking forward to it. I dunno, even-numbered years are just way better than odd, haha.

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

Shoes.

I love shoes. Always have always will. This year I added some dope pairs that I bought for weddings or other occasions. These ones I got for New Years Eve which I'll be spending in New York with my girl Morgs and some of her hometown (Charlotte, NC) friends. Even better, SM my wifey is coming up too! We're going to push the limit of how hard we can rage and are going to a downtown club called M2. should be insane.

shoe: Calvin Klein--- 4 1/2 in heel, 1/2 platform. nutttt.

Unfortunate Events.

Just when I started to think that I'm too boring to keep my blog going much longer, my usual life Tom Foolery picks back up. Check this.

So tonight (Thursday) the banker made an impromptu stop at my apartment. The sock drawer on my bed was broken. Now I'm a regular Betty-the-Builder, but I couldn't fix this by myself, the way it was broken. Good ole Banker. He fixes it with no problem, sawdust kind of flying every where, but whatever. About 20 minutes later I look over at him and he has this lil raised stop on his cheek. It sort of looks like a zit. Honestly? Why first thought was "where the eff did this zit grow from?" Like, Banker's got freakishly clear skin (part of the reason he's a certified dime!) So this zit was a little outlandish. Whatever though, zits it happens to everyone....

10 minutes later Banker has a coughing fit. I'm like... Seriously don't die on me. He's complaining that his throat feels strange, tight and itchy. he's been battling some sort of cold so you know, we dismissed it.

Not more than 5 min. Later look at his face and inform him that his face is breaking out in hives.

Hives.

So first comes the hydrocortisone cream. Then I search for Benedryl but don't have anymore (all I have it zyrtec, which I think might work, but I wasn't sure) so I send him to Rite-Aid and home, his face covered in 8 big ole hives and his back itching up a storm.

So I'm sitting around, call up Cynth. And a few min. Into the conversation, I look at the spot I've been scratching nonchalantly... Son of a B, I'm breaking out in hives. So what do I do? Sit there like a dumb ass, playing on farmville, and dicking around.

I laugh to myself thinking about how my girl Morgs told me to stop posting things about my Farmville on Facebook b/c she's shamed for me....then I realize my throat is mad tight. Welp. I'm dying.

Ok, not dying. But hello, I don't have Benedryl. FML, seriously, why would I set myself up to die b/c of the sawdust on the damn drawers?

Of course Cynth is ride-or-die and she googles Zyrtec while I take a cold shower. She let's me know that the Zyrtec will hold it down just like my old friend Bene. In hindsight, all my off label abuse of Benedryl as a sleeping agent is exactly why I didn't have any tonight when I needed that shit....

Anyways. I fill Sam in. We laugh at how pathetic we are. (Last time I saw him I threw my back out like somebody's old-ass granddaddy, and he was over here with a stuffy nose/fever/cough/sore throat treating it with only Theraflu like a little ass kid.) To make matters worse, I'm in bed itching/dying. He's at home and as per his last text message: " Damn I swallowed a halls that wasn't fully done. So it's dissolving slowly... Ugh!! Shldv chewed it first...." He isn't really doing much better. Tomorrow I have my Agency holiday party up in the Bronx... And after I'm going with Sam to his office holiday party. All I know is my hives better go away.

This is the kind of mess I'm talking about. Oh well, it will be funny sometime next week I guess....

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

But will you RIDE?

Life moves very quickly. This time last year I just dumped one absolute retard, in hopes of dating another, working 40 hours a week, living in Durham, and barely working on my graduate applications. Jumping back to where I am now--- while the only real changes have been location (as I work more that 40 hours now, and am still in the same dating shenanigans as I was before, gah.) I am so happy for the few constants I have in my life-- and one of those are my friends.

Every girl doesn't get to have ride-or-die girl friends. Allow me to define for those of you who didn't listen to The Lox in middle school.

Ride-or-Die: the kind of girl friend that's going to hold you the eff down. regardless of the situation. She'll tell you when you're right... and also when your ass is wrong. She will tell you if your outfit is skanky, or if you look a little thick with it--- and she's also the first to tell you how fly you really are.

She'll tell you the stuff you don't want to hear: like you're boyfriend isn't good enough for you, or that you need to stop sloming on the weekends. She'll also tell you when to get your head out of your ass when it's a good guy you're trying to game.

She'll spend a whole hangover sunday with you, watching The Game or Girlfriends on BET (hahahah SM and Morgs).

She takes your phone call after hours, and would skip work or school for you. She has your back when you don't have your own. She'll dislike someone for no reason other than the fact that they hurt her home girl. When your family isn't on the same page, your R-or-D friend is.

and. a true ride-or-die best girl friend will fight.

hahaha this made my laugh out loud because this reminds me of my relationship with SM, RSJ all my girls at CUSSW and at NCSU.

I remember a night out in Atlanta with SM and RSJ. We arrived to a local bar and these chicks were muggin and it was pretty clear that SM (the usual instigator) was going to mug back. Indeed, she did. Me and another girl (read: not ride or die) was there, and RSJ was at the other side of the bar.

I see SM getting ready to Knuck and promptly tell her that of course, I'll hold her down. SM and I look to "the other girl" and asked her, very simply:

"are you down to ride?"

her answer?

"ride where?"

No. "other girl" was not ride-or-die.


Another night, at Olivia's going away party in Raleigh. Some freakin fail of a guy was talking reckless to Charlotte.... and before we knew it. This table of 9 real smart class girls flipped the damn script. Everyone (except the always, even, enigmatic, RSJ who calmly reminded us "if you guys ignore him, he'll stop" hahahaha ) starts to literally rip this guy to shreds. SM, myself, Charlotte, Penny, Hannah B, and maybe a couple others somehow continue this shit this guy started. Proceed to get him thrown out and people were telling us how sorry they were for HIS behavior. (in hindsight.... I imagine we were way worse than him....but fuck it. you mess with one, you mess with all...)

Now, while I don't think fighting a la "Bad Girls Club" is anything to aspire to, I do completely understand that mentality. I love it when I BBM Morgs or K.Beau and am like "Ya'll I'm about to die, x,y,& z is happening." the first question is always "...do we need to squad up?" or, if you're Morgs ".... bitch I might be..." haha this shit makes me laugh now.

Thing is, it seems it's better to have a tight knit circle of girls who would hold you down regardless, as opposed to standing there looking to your left when it goes down because you don't have anybody to clique up with.