Dear Diary,…

It’s been a busy week and weekend, and I have so much that I want to say. As I was thinking about what I wanted to write, a song by P!nk popped into my head, it’s a song called “Dear Diary” and has a line that goes

Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets
Cuz you’re the only one that I know who’ll keep
Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets
I know you’ll keep them, and this is what I’ve

I don’t want to use this blog as a diary per se, but some of what I post here are things I would put in a diary, if I kept one… yet there is so much more that never leaves my head. So many thoughts, feelings and things I want to say, things I need to say, things I probably should say – just for my own sanity, but I don’t. I’m also a pretty random person, my thoughts are all over the place, and if you didn’t know me, you might think I have ADD, but I don’t. I just have a lot of different thoughts floating around my head and I sometimes let them escape to the posts on this blog. I don’t know how this blog will continue to develop, but I know for sure that some things will never get shared. I’m just an intensely private person and the things that are closest to me – stay that way.


OMGosh… nope, no and nah

I promise this seems to only happen to me, but it can’t, it has to happen to other women too, right?

I was putting gas in my car yesterday and after I finished and was in my car about to pull off, my eye caught the guy in the bay next to me. He motioned and I wasn’t sure why so I rolled down my window (my 1st mistake), the following conversation took place (replying – my mistake #2)

Him: Smile, you need to smile

Me (in my head): GTFOH, really!?! That’s what you wanted to say.

Me (actually words): Thanks but I’m good.

Him: Don’t you smile for your husband? What makes you smile? I bet if I took you out you’d smile?
Ummm, for real this is how you begin a conversation to ask someone out – where they do that at? Apparently somewhere near Phillyland.

Me: No thanks, I’m good.

Me (in my head): Do you not realize that you look like your 60 and I can’t even tell if you have teeth. It doesn’t look like you do. Shiny SUV’s don’t impress anyone, this isn’t 1998 or maybe 2002 when that might have worked on an 18 yr old high school drop out – which isn’t me. And I could probably put a drink on ya belly and not have it spill.

Him: You must be coming from work, what do you do, it must be serious.

Me: Yup….(as I roll up my window and pull off, I add) I’m leaving stop talking now

Thanks for nothing Spotify

I’m sitting here at work and tears suddenly started falling. Just a little overwhelmed by emotion I guess. Two songs came on back to back and reminded me of 2 different people that I gave a large part of my time and self to. Both are still in my life but under different circumstances and situations than originally imagined. Both still and will probably always have a special place in my heart, for vastly different reasons.

Anyway, dang you Spotify for making me cry. At this point I can only assume they are happy tears because I’m not sad nor do I regret how my relationships changed to what they currently are with each of them. It all worked out how God intended.

Maybe I’ll post later in a little more detail why “Right Here Waiting” by Monica ft. 112 and “Tender Kisses” by Tracie Spencer brought some good and not so good, but mainly good memories flooding back.



Origins of The Red Room

Originally my Red Room stories started off as part of this thing my friends and I used to do when we were bored at work, called ‘Groupie Tales’. We would take famous people and then make up stories from the POV of a groupie being interviewed by a radio/tv host about their, ahem, ‘time’ together. Explicit and hilarious – we have some good imaginations. All of the stories we made up were done over IM’s chats, emails and hidden backyards of other people/companies blogs. Hey if they were going to build it for us, we were going to use it. You’d be surprised how many websites of famous bloggers are willing to allow popular commenters (like we were) to do what we do because it drove a lot of traffic to their sites. Had we thought about it at the time, we would have charged them a fee for using our work. One of them, well two of them have quite the big brands now.

I decided to continue these stories but not using famous people or groupies but just people I see in real life, on the street. I’m a people watcher. I see people walking down the street and then make up backstories about who they are, what they do, etc. When in the mood, I’m gonna make up and write stories that might get a little erotic, and if they do then I haven’t lost my touch. We’ll see how it goes.

Break out of the mold

I have never felt the need to march to someone else’s drumbeat, I’ve never really felt the need to be someone other people wanted me to be. I never let anyone put me in a box or try to define who I am, the things I can like, the kind of life I need to live, the path I have to follow, or a pattern that I have to copy for my life.

To all those I know who feel like they have to ascribe to someone else’s notion of who they should be, how they should act, where they should be in life… break free and reclaim your ownership of you, the very essence of you. Do what makes you happy – this life is too short to live it according to someone else’s rules. Live your life.


Trust, faith and letting go

I can be a bit of a control freak when it comes  to certain things… mainly my life.

Patience as the average person thinks of it has never been a problem for me, but waiting patiently with purpose and being actively engaged in faithful patience is not easy for me. Trusting in others is something that has always been easy for me to do, and I do it willingly – sometimes to my own determent. I’ve giving my trust to people who have shown they were not worthy of it, and they have shown it in ways that has caused great harm to me. Still I am trusting by nature. I generally trust people until they give me reason not to, even then I am quick to forgive. Not forgiving affects me more than it ever would them, so I forgive because I need to. Lack of control is akin to uncertainty and is difficult for me because I am a planner, organizer and go-getter by nature, so not taking the steps I naturally want to take and instead waiting for an answer from Him (the Lord) the come is not easy. Yet, I am trying to have more faith. I am learning to not just have more faith, but I am learning to listen, I am learning to ask for help when I need it and before I need it. I am learning that part of trust and faith in Him is showing more gratitude. I am learning that He is one person I can trust to not harm me. I am learning that in order to have trust and faith in Him, I have to let go of control.

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” Proverbs 3:5

S in the White Mercedes

I’ve been meaning to write about this, I thought it was funny. About 2 weeks I was leaving work to go to a happy hour. It was late and kind of dark outside. (Yeah, I was showing up to happy hour all late, but it is what it is). Anyway, as I’m leaving the office and walking to my car, a white Mercedes pulls up besides me. He didn’t look like my normal type, and if I have a type that would be somewhat clean cut yet with an edge… I gotta have a man with swag, even if they don’t know they have it. Back to the story  (I get sidetracked in my stories quite often), I’m getting ready to cross the street to my car and he stops his car.

He rolls down his window and says: “what’s a beautiful woman like you doing out so late alone”.

Being the pleasant person that I am, I said “just leaving work”

He asked “do you live in the area”

[Negro do you really think I’m about to divulge that kind of information to you a stranger?]

I ignored the question and he then asked if I was going home. Now in my head, all I’m thinking is, if you dare ask if you can come home with me, I will find something to stab you to the white meat with a quickness. No violence was needed, lol. I politely said I was headed to meet some friends for happy hour. By this time I had crossed the street and was standing at my car ready to open the door. Only about 45 seconds had elapsed, even though it felt like 10 minutes.  As I open my car door, I see that he isn’t moving on and now there are cars getting backed up behind him in the street. [These Phillyland cats don’t know how to pull over to the shoulder, they just stop in the middle of the street any time day or night for any reason – I hate that]. He quickly tells me that he likes my outfit. I cannot complain I thought I looked pretty good in my tight ankle capri pants and heels too. But I digress. I thanked him for the compliment and told him that he might want to pull all the way over so traffic can get by. I don’t think it dawned on him to do it, but to my surprise he did. So as traffic is passing, he’s yelling through the sound of cars and is asking for my phone number and randomly asks if I have kids. Again in my head all I’m thinking of is..F*ck my life. I really just wanted to go out and have a good time with my friends and not be bothered by dudes today.

Ugh. I kinda of declined and lied at the same time. I said I didn’t have kids, which is the truth and then told him that I was seeing someone and he probably wouldn’t appreciate if I was giving my number out to other men. Yet in reality, I was only somewhat seeing potential bae, and if S in the white mercedes hadn’t told me I didn’t have kids because I’d been waiting on him to drop his seed, he might have gotten the digits.

As I was getting into my car, I see dude in the white mercedes is still sitting my the side of the road. I laughed in my head. Maybe if he had had a drop top things could have turned out different. Probably not though.

Note to men: telling a woman that you never met, that she is childless because you haven’t dropped your seed in her, isn’t a great pick up line. It sucks. No, really it sucks. Don’t say it.