I need professional help or an English tutor.

I don't really think that I'm a extremely self absorbed person but I just read my last post and cannot believe how many of my sentences start with "I". Mrs. Nalepa, my third grade teacher always said that we shouldn't begin all of our sentences with the word "I" because it's boring and lazy. I'm going to believe that I'm just lazy and boring for now and go brush up on my grammar because the other possibility is very unattractive.

My life hurts...

My job has me standing on my feet all day walking in circles. So damn boring but the money is good and every hour or so I get to have about fifteen minutes of fun so I guess that forty five minutes of tedium isn't so bad. At least I have a job. I'm working on not being such a self absorbed whiner and I have to tell you, it's no fun. I like talking about myself, thinking about myself and fantasizing about myself. I do like cooking for others though. That's how I nurture, and i'm damn good at it too. I just made the best yellow sheet cake with cream cheese frosting and I have nobody to feed it to.

That's my biggest problem, I like to cook but I also like to eat and that's why I can't shed those pesky ten pounds. See, talking about myself again...I have taken a week long break on the work outs. I usually work out Mon thru Fri but every couple of months my knees just go to hell and the idea of a squat or a lunge just scares me to death. I keep having daydreams about being in the middle of a set of lunges and my knee bone just popping out of it's socket and tearing through my skin, leaving me in a pile on the floor screaming for help in my basement where no one can hear me. Knee bone, you like that don't you. Well, i'm too lazy to look up the medical terminology right now.

I want to write a book, or maybe just a short story. I want to do something and finish it. I want to impress someone. I impress myself already but the things that I do aren't really things that I can show off. "Hey look at this new scarf I knitted" isn't the show stopper you'd think it is. I don't know why but it pisses me off when people don't gush over the food that I cook for them. (More on my Thanksgiving feast when I feel up to not being a lazy ass). Suffice it to say that I cooked a HUGE holiday feast and was left home alone to eat it, I even brined the damn turkey for 24 hours. I make the best peach pie in the world and whenever I give a piece to this Male person that I know he acts like it's from the frozen food section. Bitch, those are ripe Cling peaches from the heart of Georgia, I made the dough from scratch. You better recognize!

This male person, figure???? has a buddy that has been making him upside down cakes and strawberry cupcakes( which I recently found out are by way of Ms. Betty Crocker!) for years and you'd think that she had won the Pillsbury bake off the way this fool gushes. Me though, after one bite and not even a raised eyebrow in appreciation. He' s lucky I don't take it straight from the oven and smear it in his face.

What was I talking about in the first place? This post wasn't supposed to go there. Ok let's see, I was talking about work place boredom, achey knees and a need to impress. I titled this thing "My life Hurts" because whenever someone complains about aches and pains I respond by saying My life hurts. I don't know what it means, my sister is the original complaininator and I remember that after hearing one to many complaints I responded with that little gem. Now, I just say it to be a jackass. Plus, I just always pick horrible titles.

Ok, well enough about me. Not really, but bye.

I wish I was as brave as you!

I have had a few people look at my hair and then tell me how brave I must be to wear such a daring style. Just so you know, I wear dreadlocs......I'm not walking around here with a hot pink Mohawk or a blonde mullet. I just have shoulder length locs that are clean and neat.

Why do I wear locs? Well let's just say that at the age of sixteen a very talkative hairstylist that was too concerned with what so and so did to whoozy whatzy left the relaxer in my hair too long and I went bald in the back of my head so I had to let it go for a while. Well then my simple ass went back to this troll and got a bowl cut and found out later that she had used dirty clippers on my head and that I had folliculitis. Well, two weeks of antibiotics and four rounds of steroid shots in my scalp at $100.00 a pop left me wary of going to beauty salons.

I decided a few years ago that I would relax my hair at home but first I would go natural for about six months so that I could have a nice head of shiny straight hair but at about month five something strange happened. I went to the beauty supply to buy a relaxer and left with locking gel. i had a big fluffy Afro and I loved it and I haven't looked back. I'm happy with my decision but I don't think I'm brave. This is my hair and the advantages for me are much greater than they were with straight hair. I can exercise every day and not worry about sweating my edges out. I can drive with my windows down and not mess up my style. If I could swim, I would, but I can't so......

I believe that woman should do to their hair whatever they feel works for them but I can't help but feel that black women straighten their hair because we feel that what we were given naturally is unattractive. Four Hundred and some odd years of being told that you are disgusting will do that to you but I am sad that we go to such lengths to be something that we aren't when what we have is so much fun. I've heard so many women say that they only straighten their hair because it's so much more versatile but most of the ladies I see with relaxers just wear it in a pony tail every day. What's versatile about that and if versatility is what you want wouldn't your natural hair be a part of that arsenal? Look, I really don't care what people do with their hair, I just want them to be happy with what they are without changing a thing.

I have never been insulted about my hair by a white person. No, only people that look like me like to do that type of shit. Even when I relaxed my hair I would get teased and called a nappy headed bitch for nothing. Even when you can't see the kinks people still talk about them.

I don't really know what my point is anymore. I started writing only to talk about why I went natural and now I'm preaching at people which is not my intention. I just see all of these beautiful women out their with their played out weaves and wigs that aren't fooling anyone and their home relaxers that have left them practically bald and I wonder if they know how beautiful they would be with a big ass fro, long shiny locs and a big beautiful smile. We are perfect the way we are and if only took me going bald, spending six hundred dollars in medical bills, being stabbed in the back of the head with a needle full of acid and hating myself for a short while to see that.

Turner Classic Movie's alright!!

I just made the mistake? of watching "Birth of a Nation" and I really don't know what else to say. I have known about this movie forever and finally now having a chance to watch it, couldn't resist. I'm gonna let it sink in and then maybe I'll have something more to say. More than likely though, I will just have ball of anxiety, anger, confusion and sadness in my tummy for a few days and get over it like I always do. Man I gotta get fired up about something and stick with it for once. I just can't ever seem to keep my righteous indignation fired up long enough to make a difference about anything. I mean, I like baking, listening to Opera and poop jokes. I'm not that complex. Anyway....

I just spent Two Hundred dollars on clothes I don't even want for a job that demands that I only wear black which is ridiculous because I work in a field where I often spill shit all over myself and it' just stands out more on black clothes. When I think of all of the candy and magazines, music and novels, face creams and vitamins I could have bought with Two Hundred dollars....I gag.

I'm still addicted to sugar. I exercise like a dog and eat right all week and screw it up on Saturday with my nearly rotten sweet tooth. I saw a 20/20 special once about a woman on trial for killing her adopted son by poisoning him with salt and red pepper flakes but it believed by everyone that her son ate a lethal amount of salt on his own because he had a disorder that made him crave salt. I wonder if you can have an addiction, I mean a real addiction to sugar. If so, I think I have that. I mean, I ate the entire center of a chocolate cake at once a few months ago.

I wish that I could blog like the rest of you. I don't ever know what to say. I would love to speak on politics like so many of you because along with my exciting County Trotting career as a beauty representative I am actually quite interested and up to date on my world news but whenever I feel the urge to share my opinion on something I think about how many people have probably already done a better job at it than I and give up.

My locs look like shit sometimes. They are finally at my shoulders and I think that your average schlep rock would say that I have pretty hair but they are just so damn fuzzy. I hate that...

I guess if you wanna read about racist turn of the century cinema, food addictions and bad hair do's I'm your girl because the important things in life just aren't my cup of Sugar.

I need a Sugar Daddy!

I just love those candies don't you. I was making a plea to older men at first but decided to retain my dignity instead. I hate my job but that's no reason to wimp out and become a gold digger. Besides, being some dudes piece is probably as shitty a job as the one I have right now.

Yes that's right, I gots me a job!! I hate it. You didn't even know I was looking for a job or without work because I am so terrible at this blogging thing. Yeah, I have been ungainfully unemployed for a long while now and have been blessed by God with a good Job that pays well and that I hate. Let me say that if I weren't so shy I would absolutely love my job but I am a little pussy with no spine so I can't get into the groove of this work.

Long story longer, I interviewed a few months ago for a job at a department store with a makeup line. Didn't get the job because of my shyness and lack of experience with sales. I must salute the lovely lady that interviewed me because she fought like hell to get me hired. She sent me on about three interviews with different companies and they all liked me a lot and seemed to want to hire me if only I would assert myself and be more comfortable in my own skin. Well imagine my stomach turning nausea and shock when about two months later, one of the companies that had rejected me called in the middle of my bran flake breakfast to ask me if I would like to become a Freelance makeup artist. Never one to tell a person when I am scared shitless and still completely inexperienced I jumped at the offer.

Well here it is a month since that fateful day and I have been working about three times a week as a traveling Makeup Artist. I feel like I'm in the Circus and judging from the work that I have been doing I think I missed my calling. I basically go from store to store doing peoples makeup, selling them makeup and mentally shitting myself for hours at a time. I'm getting better at it every time and I'm just going to take the fact that my boss (yes, I will admit that the fact that I have a boss is kinda cool) keeps sending me to very important events and giving me these great opportunities is proof that I'm not as much of a failure as I think I am.

My schedule is kinda poopy too. I usually get weekend work which really blows as Saturday morning is usually my pancake and "Wait, Wait, don't tell me" time. My first Saturday was a shock to my system as my boss had warned me that she was just going to throw me into the fire.

6:45am until 6:30pm doing makeup and trying to get cheap people that can easily afford what I just spent forty five minutes applying to their face to now buy it. I have now spent about ten such occasions and it never ceases to amaze me that women and girls will wake up and go to a mall at 6:00 in the morning on a Saturday for the sake of free samples.

I've noticed though that I work best alone. I am fortunate to work with wonderful people but I am so self conscious that I feel like every suggestion is an attack and assurance of my impending termination. I am sure though that this time next month I will have found my groove and will be confident and happy because I love this job, I just hate the work. I have loved doing makeup for about twelve years now and am very good at it. It's just the selling that I am afraid of. I don't know why I feel like these women that set these appointments, no one put a gun up to their heads and made them come to me but for some reason I feel like I'm taking advantage of them. I don't know.....Pray for me because Friday and Saturday are gonna be two of those long days that require me to stand in one place for nine hours trying to convince people to buy stuff and I'm no good at it.

Send me your good vibes and energy.

I Survived!

Can you imagine what it must feel like to be eaten by a Shark?

Just do it.

I swear, I choose the stupidest titles for my posts.

I'm sitting here watching Nancy Grace, wanting to hurl my Swiss Roll at the TV but that would be a wast of a good Swiss Roll. This woman really pisses me off with all of her stupid instigation but that isn't the point of this post so I will digress.

I'm sitting here on a friday night with no plans to go anywhere or do anything and I'm wondering why am I not reading? I must have about seventy five books in my bedroom alone and I have to say that reading is my favorite hobby and yet I don't feel like reading. I am lucky to have a mom that used to be a voracious reader and so before I could drive I would just read her books. My mom is a romantic at heart so most of her books were love stories but that suited me fine back then. A young hormonal teenager has no problem reading love stories but after I started driving I made the Boarders books store my second home and discovered a new part of myself.

I remember the first time I went to the bookstore by myself. It was a typical boring saturday afternoon and I was driving aimlessly listening to A Prairie Home Companion. You see now why I was a lonely young woman with my tastes....I decided to go to the book store because I just love that atmosphere and I wanted a slice of that cheese cake. I walked through the Non-Fiction section and for some reason my heart was pounding. It was so overwhelming, I don't know why but I always get a little nervous when trying to find a new book. Books can be expensive and if you don't like the book it's like pouring money in the trash can and then you are just stuck with this crappy book. I don't know why but it feels almost sacreligeous to throw a book away, someone's hard work just being discarded...that is until I started recycling. I have recycled so many books man...

I remember the first book I bought that day after scouring the shelves for almost an hour. A crappy little romance aimed at young modern women, you know the story. Woman has shitty job but good friends. Can't find love but has a friend of a friend that she didn't know has loved her for years...Ugh. Maybe it's because I didn't have a boyfriend at the time that books like that appealed to me but boy they sucked. The one good thing about that experience is that I learned to be fearless in my book buying. I learned to take chances on books and not to just stick to the typical boy, girl thing. The thing about me is that once I start a book I must finish it as soon as possible. That's something that I would like to change. As much as I love to read I make it a job and sometimes miss out on the pleasure of the anticipation of picking the book up again. I remember a 700 page novel that I finished in about eight hours. I loved that book and I wish that I had given myself more time to read it. I had to go and find another book.

The best book purchase that I have ever made was a complete fluke and one of the best purchases I have ever made. I was just about to buy another one of those "I'm gorgeous but lonely with no hope of ever finding a decent job until Mr. Multi Millionaire comes along and sees the real me books" when I saw a glossy red paperback staring at me. On the cover were the words "Straight Man" with the image of a goose looking rather startled at the bottom of the page. Something about that image made me giggle and of course I thought that Straight Man meant something else...piqued my interest. On a whim I read the back cover and decided to give it a try alongside that dumb ass romance. I'd like to say that I read it over the course of a few weeks but I was done with it the next day and it is still my favorite book. I take it with me whenever I go on a trip because as long as I have it I'm entertained. Come on, a book about a smart ass college professor that threatens to kill a duck a day unless his financial demands are met.!

I became obsessed with reading after that and racked up quite a collection of books. I love the feeling of transportation that a good book gives me. I wish sometimes that I could write a book but I am too impatient to flesh any writing out and to hard on myself to be patient. I'm no snob when it comes to reading either. What makes you happy, makes you happy. I like a good romance as long as it is a good one. I like my Vivian Tam just fine. I just finished my ninth book in the Sookie Stackhouse series that inspired "True Blood" and they are a lot of campy fun. I have read everything from Jane Eyre to the occasional Harlequin. You know what...don't read those. I can honestly say I think that those are kind of detrimental to your happiness and taxing on your brain power. I'm not a snob but the rich man, dumb girl thing is played out. Truth be told I have probably read more crappy books than good but to me the good ones make it worth all the effort. So, I guess i'll read into my bookshelf and pick something out. Finish my Swiss Roll, turn off Nancy Graces prattling and read a book.

P.S. Any grammatical errors are due to this keyboard with the candy stuck in the keys, I like to snack while I type.