Hey! Uhm, hows y'all doin this evening? Ion really care. It's my blog, and tonight, we're gonna talk about meeeeeee, and my niggas. I collect them. I can't find one to be everything I want, so I get like six, that together would make the perfect man, and I just pick and choose what I want from who at what time. I've decided I'd like these people to remain nameless, but I'm going to pull a Flava Flave(©) and give them nicknames. There's 4(and a half kinda?) that are in the mix right now. These will be their names forever more, so pay attention.

The first is, obviously, Daddy. You've heard me talk about him, you probably know who he is, you just don't know who he is to me. As you may have guessed from his name, he's my favorite ♥;. I mean, I don't like him enough to not mess with other people. I mean, psh. If he were to get jealous once though, that'd be sexy. Lmao. Nah really, when this nigga is ready to be with me, I'ma stop what I'm doing and be with him. In the mean time, meet the rest of the cast:

Sugar. I've known him the longest, he's the oldest. This nigga is forever tryna buy me something. Actually, I should have a deposit coming through from him in the morning. I'm not a golddigger. I just don't look a gift horse in the mouth. You just mad nobody's sending you money. This nigga would be cool, decent conversation, 'cept for he was watching MTB4 instead of the playoffs. You fucking kidding me? Nah. But his dickkkkkk though! My fucking gosh. I mean, I can't help it, I'm nasty, and THIS NIGGA, whooo! Anyway. Lmao. I had a moment. Pleaseeee do not highlight over the large white space there. You'd think less of me, and I'd hate that, really.

Cutie. My Portland Boo. This is my video game buddy. My scream on the phone during the game buddy. My basketball in the park buddy. My "if you run into my go kart ONE MORE MUHFUCKIN TIME" buddy. Lol. He's a friends with benefits kinda situation. He stood me up tonight (pouts) but its cool. I'ma get his ass later. And....that's all you needa know about him.

Nasty. If the name don't say it all, you need your eyes checked. This nigga ain't no fuckin body. He just scratches and itch (thatfacedownassuptalkdirtytomebabyohgawwwwwwwwwwwd itch, you got one of those, right?). I haven't decided if I like him or not, cus we don't really talk. Y'all know how that goes.

Now, y'all wanna hear about my mysterious half a nigga? 'Cause I did say there were four and a half. Terrence. AKA beanpole. Aka twin's boyfriend. Because this bitch really said I should have sex with him, and ever since then I can't shake him. This nigga calls me EVERY DAY. Sometimes more than once, and we allllll know I don't this phone conversation bullshit. Who do I talk on the phone with?!?!? Daddy calls me every night, we say about six words, and then we go to sleep. PERIOD. I aint' tryna talk on the phone with you nigga. Fuck outta here. I do be havin a good time though. Like, I answer the phone when he calls, every time, so yeah.

Anyway, the reason I brought it up at all is cus I spoke to all four (and a half?) of them today, and it was weird. Emotional rollercoaster && shit. Terrence first, of course, telling me to have a beautiful day, followed my Sugar telling me the deposit should clear tomorrow morning, followed by Nasty asking me...well, nevermind what he asked me. Followed by an off and on convo w/ Daddy. Followed by a phone call w/ Terrence. Followed by the "sorry, some stuff came up, I'll hit you later, keep my side warm for me," text from Cutie. Now I'm talking to Daddy. I'm scared he fell asleep without me though =[

Okay, he didnt.

Anyway, I've totally lost the purpose of this blog. Really. I'll get at y'all later.

Till Next Time: High hopes, positive energy, love♥;

The Situation:

Okay, so basically, my old trusty Blackberry Pearl died. Straight fell apart. It was a nightmare. I couldn't do anything with it. It'd been hobbling along for a while, but when the trackball started to come apart I told my godfather, "You've got until this trackball comes out, and then you're getting me a new phone," to which he agreed. I told him I wanted the Blackberry Bold, and that if he bought it all properly, he could pull it off for 150 dollars. He said okay. We went to the AT&T store on Sunday, to pick up the phone, we discovered that the price I'd researched was only available online, and because I couldn't go without a phone for the three to five days that it would take for the phone to arrive, my godfather agreed to temporarily activate on the of the older (first generation) iPhone's they have laying around. They're an iPhone family, all three of them have one, and they keep asking me why I don't want one.

Anyway, I accepted, and, after giving in to pressure from my family, the AT&T sales guy, and Jay (who didn't even really pressure me, I've just never seen him so excited over anything, ever), I decided that we'd hold off on the ordering of the Blackberry, and I'd take a week to explore the iPhone, and see how I felt about it.

So, what's wrong with the iPhone?:
There's nothing wrong with the iPhone. I've stated and maintained from day one that this is a damn cool piece of machinery. Just hella handy to have around. It does everything. Absolutely everything. And anything it doesn't do, it's about to be able to do, give it a week. My first problem with the iPhone is that I don't like touch screen phones in general. AT&T guy: The phone is so convenient in every other aspect that you'll quickly get over that. =| okay AT&T guy, you're sexy and all, but don't get too cocky about all this, nah.

Anyway, I've had the iPhone for two days. It's fine. I'm not in love with it. It's bigger than I'm used to, but the Bold is bigger than I'm used to, too. My biggest fear really, is that I'm going to get the Bold and be like, "Damn, I want the iPhone back."
However, the iPhone wasn't doing anything but sitting in the house before, so if I do decide to get the iPhone back, I'll just go get the iPhone back.

The Politics:
There is a thick ass, firm, solid line drawn between Blackberry and iPhone users, a silent competition as to who's the better business phone. The Sidekick (which also does everything) would've been in this fight, if it's primary buying market wasn't twelve year old little girls. I'm afraid the G1 will suffer the same fate, plus the touch screen on the G1 is too sensitive, so yeah. Blackberry being the old money in this competition, you wanted a business phone before the iPhone came out? You got a Blackberry. Period. It was respectable. People saw you on it, they knew you had shit to do. It catered to all the business needs of it's owners, and if it's owners decided they needed something else, Blackberry worked their ass off to provide it. The iPhone, on the other hand, just does everything. Everything you need, everything you don't need, everything you never even thought of having access to on your phone. Lol, it's a little overwhelming.

All in all, I don't think this is the phone for me, not out of any fault on it's part, just because it's not the phone for me. But, it's got a couple days left to win me over.

The Joke:
When I first got the phone, this is what popped into my head:

The little white blogger box listens better than most. Mood music? Uhm, nothing's coming to mind. I'll post something at the end, maybe. Alright, here we go:

So, I've been flighty lately, which is totally unlike me, you should know. I don't do flighty. Flighty people irritate the hell out of me. I'm very much a firm decision making type of person. I decide what I'm going to do, and I do it. I'm also ridiculously stubborn. If I make a decision, and figure out halfway through that it was the wrong one, I will not change my mind. That's not what I wanted to talk about, though.

I've been trying to make some changes in my life: do things a little differently, be a little more open, a little less shy, let people see me, you know? Most people don't see me, they see what I show them. I'm not sure who that female is that I show y'all, but I'm not sure if I like her anymore, so, I think I'll just revert back to plain ol' me, if you don't mind. Anyway, even though I'm trying to change, habits are a bitch. And so I find myself becoming flighty. Maybe flighty's the wrong word. Wishy-washy is more like it, but I don't think that's really a word at all. Y'all get the point. I'll decide I'm going to do something, and then at the last second, my old habits will rear up and I'll go back to doing the exact same thing that I was doing before. But then I realize I'm doing the same thing I was doing before, and I try to start doing the new thing again. It makes me seem confused, and while I understand confusion is a normal part of life, I'd rather not appear to be confused, to the outside world. My composure is my only defense. I try desperately not to let people see how upset life makes me. I think it works, most times. Everybody has moments.

However, this confusion, in the aspect of relationships (not just romantic, platonic as well), is making it very hard for me to interact socially. I'm naturally a very shy person. I'm absolutely awful at "making friends." How does one even do that? Like, if I see a person's blog who I think is cool, do I just leave a comment like, "Hey, I'm Ashley, I think you're a cool person. We should be friends." Is that okay? Or does that look desperate? See, I don't know, and (as Jay Adams can attest), if I don't know, I won't do anything. I will continue to read said cool person's blog, for a year, and tell all my current friends (who happen to know said cool person) how cool I think they are, until someone forcibly introduces us. Yes, they usually have to hold a gun to my head to make me add you on yahoo messenger, and then, once you're added, I'll say hi once, and then fade into the background of your internet life. I need people to make the first move. Which is bad. Very bad. I need to be able to make the first move. I'm a strong, independent black woman, right? I should be able to introduce myself to people without feeling like a complete idiot, right? Yes, I should.


Yet, somehow, that shit never works.

So, my mission (along with remembering my grammar and proper punctuation, which I think I'm doing fairly well), is to be more assertive in my relationships, and to not be afraid of acknowledging what I need. Also, I need to do whatever it takes to make myself feel like less of an idiot when introducing myself to other people. They need to see my cool. LOL. 'Cause I'm cool, gotdammit!

When I'm not being lame, like in the previous sentence. Lmao. I think that was a very successful pep talk. How come y'all can't be that helpful? Shame. I still love you.



Till Next Time: Positive energy, high hopes, love♥

P.S.: Cassie's bone structure is fucking perfect so she can pull off whatever haircut she wants, physically. My question is, does she have the attitude to pull it off? Only time will tell.

This is the part where I push you away. Get stupid and mean and generally unattentive, until you can't recall what you saw in me, and don't know why you're still trying. I'm gonna make you leave. You actually don't have any say in the matter.

And even though I see this happening, and even though I want you in my life, I think I'd rather you leave then get hurt anymore. So goodbye in advance. It was fun.

Smokinggun.mp3 just reminded me how fucked up I am. Am I wrong for feeling like I deserve to be by myself? Whatever. I'm going to sleep now I think.



Smoking Gun feat. Jazmine Sullivan - Jadakiss

Till next time: positive energy, high hopes, love♥;

Uhm....'sup bloggers. Y'all wanna know what I did today? I worked. Then I came home &+ we was supposed to do my hair but Chrissy was trippin so now we're gonna do it in the morning, cus what if she oversleeps, or I oversleep, or we both oversleep? I mean, I know y'all know how black Easter Sundays work. I can't be lookin raggedy. That's against all the rules. If everything works out, I'ma take hella pictures. You'll see && stuffs.

So uhm, yesterday (Friday) one of my dogs died. It was grimey, cus my aunt just took him to the vet and had him put down, and she didn't tell anybody till after. Well no, I can't say that, that makes it sound grimier than it actually was. Last summer, the dog (Dempsey), bit my little brother last summer. We still don't know what happened, cus Jon wouldn't say anything (which leads me to believe it wasn't entirely the dog's fault), but the parents weren't having it. The dog bit one of the babies, he had to go. Of course, they didn't immediately just jump to have him put down, they were looking for a home for him, but he was a pit bull/dalmation mix with a history of aggressive behavior, and all the homes said they couldn't take him. They basically said that the only people who would take him would probably be Mexicans who'd use him in dog fights. So our options were pretty much to have him put down at the vet, or to send him to torture.

Anyway, we were stalling, 'cus nobody wanted to put him down. But, as you may or may not know, once aggressive behavior starts in pits, it doesn't stop. He started getting aggressive towards the baby, growling at people for no apparent reason, just being downright mean. So, the other day, my aunt decided we couldn't wait anymore, and she took him to the vet, and just did it.

That's not the part that gets to me though. The other dog, Darwin, he's the younger, and the furthest thing from a fighter you've ever seen. Though you wouldn't know it to look at him, that dog is fucking huge, we swear he's part horse, with this deep ass baritone bark and fucking fangs for teeth, but he's nothing but a big puppy. And he's just fucking lost with Dempsey. Like, he keeps looking around the house for him. Tonight I took him out for his walk, and he just kept howling and barking, like Dempsey's just lost somewhere, and Darwin's trying to find him. It's breaking my heart, really.

Which leads me to another thing I've been thinking about: Isn't it funny how love doesn't stop when the thing that you love stops? Like, I hate being at funerals and hearing people say shit like, "you must have loved him very much." Have loved? Past tense? It didn't shut off. It didn't go anywhere. Like, I know it might not make logical sense, but y'all all know what I mean. When a person dies, you continue loving them the same way you did, because the emotion was too big and uncontrollable to shut be stopped. So I think, instead of hate, grief is the opposite of love, I think grief is what happens when love figures out the thing it loves is never coming back. It's just as big and uncontrollable, and it hurts.

Anyway, this is starting to depress me, and that wasn't the purpose of this blog at all. Lol, I'ma go bother Cody, maybe finish this book. I need to go to sleep, so I don't have to look like a poodle at church tomorrow.

Till next time: positive energy, high hopes, love♥

She needed to hear that. Or read it, or whatever.

My "oh shit" reflex just kicked in justtttttt now. I was waiting on it though. I knew it'd come. This is how I get. I enjoy the cuddly warm feeling that comes with talking to a guy for a short period of time, but don't let me actually start to like the nigga. No, that's against the rules. Don't let me lose control of my emotions at all, even the slightest bit. That's when it's time to stop. Take a couple steps back. Like four steps, or twelve steps, or all the steps. How bout we start at the beginning? I'm Ashley, and you?

In the last three minutes I've come up with about thirty reasons to let this shit go and just pretend like it never happened, seriously. It's not even so much that I mind relinquishing the control, it's who I'm relinquishing the control to, and what they plan on doing with it. In this particular case it feels like it'd just be floating out in the middle of nowhere, because the person I'd give it to (and I'd give it, in case you were wondering, I really would), doesn't seem to want it. I guess I'm supposed to be confident in the fact that he does want me (I mean, why wouldn't he, right?) but I hate that, 'cause confidence has gotten me in trouble far too many times. What if he doesn't? See? That shit there is far to scary for me to fuck with right now. So I should just let it go, right? Right. You see what I'm talking about. I knew you'd understand.

My fucking head is a mess right now. I'm beyond sleepy, but I don't want to sleep. Being in the dark and quiet leaves too much room for thinking. Ehh.

"I've been changed and rearranged and it's not like it was before"

OH! and by the way, this is not subliminal, this is for you. And just because I'm not throwing your name around, doesn't mean it's not for you. So, yeah.

Till next time: Positive energy, high hopes, love♥

Real talk? Daddy said he's been having nightmares since we stopped sleeping together, and that shit made me think. I honestly haven't gotten more than four hours of sleep at all since the last time I slept with him. Last night I went to sleep a little after 8, woke up at twelve. Same for the night before that, and the night before that. I think the last time I slept forreal was like...Friday night, or Saturday. Now, it's fucking two in the morning, I haven't so much as yawned. Me, twin, and her boyfriend are up talking (despite the previous post, her boyfriend actually really is a good friend of mine, like, that's my buddy). But, you know how it is, they're a couple, and I"m just me. So, in case you were wondering at all, I miss you too Daddy.

Anyways, now that the love letter section of the blog is over (I disgust my fucking self with this bullshit), lets talk about my day. I got to sing a lot. Like, its amazing to me how many damn musicians I know. But anyway, I told my old high school band I'd help them out with a performance they're doing tomorrow. So today I went to a rehearsal with them. It was cool. I got to see a lot of my old buddies. And a lot of my old haters, which made me giggle. But the highlight was my white boy Cody. Y'all know I gotta keep a white boy. That's my boo. He broke the rules though. He got taller when I wasn't looking. Now I gotta feel all inadequate. Swear he was 5'9 when I left in Jan, and this lil kid got the nerve to be 6'1 now. FUCK OUTTA HERE CODY. At least now the muhfucka could change my light bulbs or some shit.

Anyways, we did our rehearsal, and had our run through, and that was cool, and then I had to hop the bus to go to my actual choir rehearsal. I'm pretty sure I mentioned last week that I'd been having trouble, and I'd like to thank everyone, if anyone, who prayed for me, because it worked. Maybe it was just the amount that I prayed for myself. Tonight was a great rehearsal, and I feel like we came along way towards establishing a new structure. I mean, tonight's rehearsal was special, because Easter is on Sunday (and guess who has nothing to wear and no money?) but still, I think things will get better from here.

Anyway, tomorrow is the band's performance, so I'm gonna be there pretty much all day prepping and setting up. It's cool though. I love them, really. However, it's gonna be really fun trying to sing all day with the beginnings of a cold and absolutely NO FUCKING SLEEP. Sorry, y'all know how I get with the caps lock when I'm irritated.

Oh, and by the way, I need new friends, cus y'all fucking suck. (but not you, Dori).

Till Next Time: Positive energy, high hopes, love♥

All is quiet on the western front. Lol. Now that everybody and their dog has moved to tumblr, I feel like I've got air to speak. Nobody's paying little old me any attention, right? Yeah, let me dream, okay?

So, rewind. The school year was 05-06. I was a sophomore at Crenshaw Arts and Technical Charter High School. We will lovingly (psh) call it CATCH for the remainder of the blog. During my sixth period health class, when we were introducing ourselves (name, age, && zodiac sign, because Mr. Jones was a freak, a Scorpio himself), I introduced myself as Ashley, 14, Capricorn. The girl in front of me introduced herself as Jill, 14, Capricorn. She then turned around and asked me if I'd gone to Baldwin Hills Elementary school, which I had, and so it began.

We were the same height, almost the same skin color, she had herself convinced we wore the same bra size (which we don't. She's a cup size bigger than me, always has been, but you can't tell nothing to delusional bitches, so I let it go), we thought alike, if you asked us both the same question at the same time on opposite sides of the school, we almost always gave the same answer, and if one of us were in a room, and said "wow, I was X were here," the other tended to pop up within a few minutes. Most importantly, however, we were both Capricorns, and both the kind of people to which being a Capricorn mattered. Those types that ask you your sign right after they ask you if you have any illegitimate children in the "getting to know you" conversation, and actually take your answer into heavy consideration when we determine how seriously we're going to fuck with you. We were the Capricorn Twins.

Above that even, we were both virgins. Though that shouldn't be such a marvel at 14, at CATCH, it was a novelty that got us followed around just about all year. The Virgin Capricorn Twins. Promise you, we were the only two bitches at that school not having sex. That weren't having sex on the first day, and still hadn't by the last. It was only us.

I tell you all that so you can have at least a small understanding in the magnitude of the fact that my twin lost said virginity. And, as most hormone driven teenagers get, she's been completely and totally sex obsessed since it happened. Now, though equally virginal in the technical sense, I've never been quite as....pure, as Jill. I was exposed to a lot, and I was exposed to it early, so I knew how to get a man and keep him, without having to resort to sex. Jill, however, is just now venturing into said dark arts, and has taken it upon herself to learn from a master: me. She's very interested in how it is a woman can bring herself to go down on a man (pipe cleaning, as Daddy so eloquently put it. Am I the only female that can say sucking dick with a straight face? Like, how many names do y'all have for the shit? Say it. Sucking dick. Out loud. There, didn't that feel good?) Sorry, I got a little off track there.

Anyway, as is the way with teenage girls, the conversation on giving head then spiraled into a conversation on a multitude of other things, including the enormous crush I had on her when we were in school together (I like my women thick, with nice breasts, and some fucking sense. She fits the bill to a T, to this day, but I didn't tell her all that). As soon as she figured this out, she started probing me on how I felt about her boyfriend. Did I think he was cute? (he's alright) Did I think he was fuckable? (Ehh, if I was drunk, possibly) Did I think he'd make a good first time? (Well, he made a good first time for you, and that's all that matters.....right?)

I have a sneaking suspicion. I'm about three quarters into her brain, and I know where this bullshit is going. I fully intend to stop it before it gets there. I'm not going to blog my suspicions though, only facts. So for now, thats it.

The title has nothing to do with the blog, the song is just stuck in my head.

Till Next Time: Positive energy, high hopes, and love♥;

"There is little more brave than a honest, personal blogger with no apologies." -Dori.

Had to bring that back. Though I think this may count as an apology, a lot of this is my period talking, so you can overlook the stuff that's just excessively depressing. I probably won't mean it next week.

I want somebody to touch me. And I'm beyond sick of people who can't. Like, do you know how long it's been since I've been touched, by someone outside of my family, in any way other than the platonic? Months. Five of them, actually. Almost exactly. It was October 30th, 2008. Bruce. Ladera Park, CA. I hated it, honestly. He gave me a fucking hickey. I hate hickeys so much. Actually, he gave me too, && then I had to go hide them shits so people wouldn't think I was attacked by a fucking vampire. Though, if I'd played it up, I probably could've pulled it off, ya know, with Halloween the next day. I got off track there for a second.

I'm a physical person. I need a fucking hug. And I need somebody to touch me. Just for the pleasure of touching me. Whatever happened to that? I honestly want to cry right now. Don't tell me that shit's ridiculous, I know, thank you. I'm allowed to be a little ridiculous right now. I'm in pain and I'm tired and I'm irrational and I'm out of fucking cookies, so don't fuck with me, alright?

smh @ me.

I'm done talking. I'ma go curl up in bed with Walter, the only man (kinda) who's never let me down.

Till next time: all that shit I normally say, but at the moment, can't bring myself to mean.

So, yesterday, I was kinda cute, so I took to taking pictures on the webcam. I only took like four. I think four is like, the limit of pictures I allow the world to see at a time. Like, I'll take like fifteen, and then decide four are absolutely perfect and need to be posted. That's what happened this time. Anyway, y'all want an example of the extent of my fucking OCD? Here it is:

I took the pictures, and I went to post them, but my myspace layout at the time was blue, and in the pics I was wearing red. So I changed my myspace layout to something red, so that I could upload the pictures. Crazy right? That's only half of it. Then, I got upset because the blog was still the same when the myspace had so obviously upgraded, so I decided I needed to change this too. Ain't that picture pretty? I like it.

That's the end of the OCD example. Update? Update.

I go back to work tomorrow. I should have my new phone Saturday. My financial aid didn't come through, so I'm not going back to school this term. I signed up to volunteer at the library and the hospital in my free time. I bet y'all didn't know your girl did community service like that. I like to, when I can. I haven't had much time, of late. I've been having a really hard time adjusting to the choir at my new church. It's because I'm spoiled, among other things. New paragraph.

Only musicians will know what I mean when I say I have perfect pitch. I was singing harmony before I knew what harmony was. I thought it was some secret thing only I knew how to do. I thought it was my secret power, lmao. If you play a C, I can tell you it's C with my eyes closed. Same for D, E, F, G, A, & B. As well as all the sharps and flats. I have perfect pitch. I expect my choir director to have perfect pitch, or at least pretty damn good pitch, and, in the past, all my choir directors have. So it's killing me that this one doesn't. This is probably the least professional choir I've ever been involved with, & its eating me up. I was so frustrated last rehearsal I was in tears. Like, seriously crying, 'cus I was so mad. I wouldn't even talk, the rest of the night. It was lowkey ridiculous, but whatever. All I'm saying is, pray for me, if that ever crosses your mind, because no matter how petty it seems, I really am having a hard time.

I don't have much else to say. I'm really mad Jay got me stuck on playing Monopoly and two days later they tell me the service is down for macs. =[! Well, that's just unfortunate. I will leave you with the pictures that inspired the blog changes.

http://i44.tinypic.com/2moutuh.jpg
http://i41.tinypic.com/2vrzza9.jpg
http://i44.tinypic.com/sdpf7m.jpg
http://i44.tinypic.com/291j7ee.jpg

Oh, and what song should I put on here? The silence is deafening.

Till next time: positive energy, high hopes, & love♥