Tinker Toys

Real life conversation that just happened:

(Quick backstory: Nicky is telling me how old his cousins are and how he doesn't want to grow up.)

Me: Nicky, how old are you?
Nicky: I'm six.
Me: And how old am I?
Nicky: Um, probably around a thousand.
Me: What?!?!?
Nicky: Oh, I mean twenty-five.

I hope you all had a great Fourth of July!!!

Dickhead

So I really think Blogger is fucking with me.  I could have sworn I had a new comment (and follower) when I was on here yesterday, and now the comment and follower is gone.  What the hell, Blogger.

It's 1:52 am Friday night.  I am currently laying in bed composing this entry on my iPhone and wishing I was asleep, seeing as I have to get up in about five hours for my ten-hour workday tomorrow.  Why am I up?  The people who live upstairs in the duplex next door got a brand new puppy I think today and they have it on their front porch and it has been crying for the past hour.  It is this loud, high pitched yipping that will go on for ten to fifteen minutes straight, stop just long enough for me to start nodding off, and then start back up.

Is it wrong for me to want to throw something at said puppy?  It added howling into the repertoire, and I'm exhausted.  I want to go next door and punch the stupid wannabe gangsta chick that lives there in the face.  It's bad enough she'll roll in from the bar at like three-thirty in the morning with the bass blasting and Gucci Mane personally waking me up with his latest little ditty about money, cash, and hoes (high fives to anyone who caught the Jay-Z reference).  Ugh ugh ugh.  I wish I didn't have a job so that I could fill all my time with being a badass bitch.  Really, it must be nice.

Well, Señor Puppy must have cried himself to sleep because I haven't heard him in five minutes.  I'm going to try to go to sleep now, darlings.  Good night.

Dirty Picture

Wow.

That's all I can say. That and I was pretty much eye raped like two hours ago. Haha, what happened, you may ask? Well friends, sit down and let me tell you a tale of complete WTF-ness and hilarity and complete creeperdom.

I was sitting there, reading an article on my MSNBC app on my iPhone. I was just scrolling through a highly informative and educational article about what is going on at the present moment in Libya (Very sad, indeed. My thoughts and prayers go out to the protesters and the people of Libya, all joking aside.), and my phone squawks at me and a picture message alert pops up. To anyone who has an iPhone, you know that the window that pops up is basically just the picture in a smaller form. I jump in surprise at the unexpected noise, and take a moment to look at the image and when I do, I'm just kind of disgusted and slightly amused.

This guy I'd been talking to before his traits of obvious creeperness had kicked in, had gotten this brilliant idea to send me a picture of him and his penis. Umm...okay. I had planned to meet up with this guy, a fairly normal individual who I knew back in the days of yore, aka high school, when he came back to Cleveland in the summer and hook up. Looking back, he had a thing with showing girls his junk back then too because I totally just remembered him doing that to me once when we were 17. Huh. Funny how I'd forgotten about that.

But anyway. I had made plans to hook up with him like three years ago, but I'd started seeing my Faux Ford Gangsta and I wanted to see where it might go. I didn't even give Señor Flasher a second thought, and three years go by. Well last Tuesday he sends me an IM on Facebook out of nowhere and we start talking and eventually texting. We get back on the topic of hooking up and I'm like yeah, sure, I'm down. All of a sudden he starts pestering me to send him naked pictures of myself, like constantly over the course of the two days we had been texting. I keep changing the subject, because I'd sent him a picture three years ago of myself and I'd made myself physically sick with worry after I'd done it.

During this entire time I start getting this queasy butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling, like something is seriously off. I finally tell him no, because I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of sending him any pictures like that. It'd be different if we were dating--we'd just started conversing for the first time in three years, and one of the first things he asked me was if my phone had video chat. Call me crazy since my warning bells went off. Well, after I tell him no, he kinda gets all pissy and throws a tantrum. His reaction makes me think that there was more to those pics than him just wanting to see me naked. He seriously gets mad at me, like I want him to beg me for the pictures or something. Nope, I don't want you to beg because I'm not taking any pictures. He was so petulant it was ridiculous. I briefly thought of a toddler not getting his way. He even sent me an indignant "Thanks" the next day, as if to try to guilt me into changing my mind.

I decided to block him from my Facebook page and consequently blocked his number from my phone. At first I wondered if I was overreacting, but I decided that most guys would not have reacted the way he did to my "no". I figured he'd be like "okay, that's cool, I completely understand"...it made me wonder how he'd react to no in other situations. It was quiet until tonight...I have to laugh at the picture message, though. It's kind of funny in a ridiculous sort of way.

He obviously figured out I blocked him, since I'm sure he tried to text me and can't see me on Facebook. It's just ridiculous that he thinks sending me a picture of his penis is going to make me want to unblock him. I'm sorry, I'm not going to forget the way he acted simply because he sent me a picture of his junk. How about sending me a picture of an apology--and I'm not accepting a naked body shot as an apology. That's like sending someone an apology card with a picture of some chick's vag on it.

Perhaps I'm overreacting, perhaps I'm not. All I know is that I deleted the picture (thank God he didn't send it when Nicky was playing Angry Birds...I think I would have unblocked him and cussed his ass out if that had happened), and I'm ignoring him until further notice. I have a little more self-respect than that, thank you.

Tiny Light

I'm lying here in bed
It's nearly three in the morning
And of course I'm thinking about you
Of course

I'm wondering if you're really going to do
What you said you were gonna do
If you don't get your way
And if
If I really should care

Of course we both know the answer
Yes
Of course

And I'm wondering why I care so much
Why I care so much about you
Why my heart worries so much
About you
It's funny, I suppose

Why I can barely stand the thought
Of an everyday without you
It's ridiculous, of course
Why should I care
We're both adults, free to do as we choose
Ridiculous to miss you
Of course

And yet
I'm lying here
Quietly hoping that you don't go
Because I need you to stay, of course
I've gotten so used to you
That must be it, my brain insists
You're my very own daily routine
That's why I want you to stay

Of course we both really know the answer
I need you, we both know
Of course

--"Wild Hope", 01/17/2011.

Like a G6

Happy New Year my wonderful beautiful fabulous readers!!! I hope 2011 brings you joy and brings you closer to fulfilling your wildest dreams.

I can't believe how quickly 2010 went by. I must say that it was a good year, and if it were wine it'd have been sweet, with floral notes and hints of sparkling citrus. I'd buy a bottle of L. Diddy wine circa 2010.

I've taken to calling myself L. Diddy. I think it's catchy and sounds good when I talk about myself in the third person, which I do a lot more now since I have a cool nickname for myself. I made a list of obligatory resolutions, which I hope to try to keep.

Let's do this.

L. Diddy's List of Obligatory New Years Resolutions, 2011 Edition

*Lose 10-20 pounds
*Embrace exercise (and not the bomb)
*Get more sleep
*Go to bed before 3 am...let's aim for 11 pm
*Make more time for Mommy and Nicky time
*Write and finish a novel
*Record a song in an actual studio

And I'm bound to add more as the year goes on. Wish me luck, because I am sending some to all of you as you struggle with your own resolutions, or as I like to call them, "lies we tell ourselves to make us feel better about all the bad crap we did the year before".

Don't Stop The Music

Okay...So last night was UMMAXX 10, another of my GM's MMA fights. He owns a mixed martial arts company and he holds fights about every three months or so. I have been to three of them, and I absolutely love it.

I was supposed to sing the National Anthem last night, and I was super excited. I had on a yummy ensemble consisting of skinny jeans, kickass black stiletto boots, and a black shirt that had a completely lace back. I flat-ironed my hair and my makeup was beyond awesome. (See the picture on the right--->) I looked glam. I was also insanely nervous, but that's beside the point.

So I go to the entertainment group guy to find out what the hell is going on, since no one explained to me where I was singing or what was actually going down. He tells me that there's been a slight change in events, and I am like, Oh shit. He tells me to come with him, and so I follow him to the back of the expo center. He decides to tell me that oh, I am no longer singing the anthem by myself--and I am like, umm...what?--that I am singing it with two people from the Army and am I okay with that? Okay, we all know that I am not okay with that, but because I didn't want to sound like a monster bitch and I wasn't sure if my GM knew what was going down, I said yeah, I was okay with that. So I go and meet these Army people, who I immediately decided were not the cool sort of Army people. On the contrary, they seemed very nerdy and uncool. I sucked up my boiling inner rage and smiled in a very convincing delightful fashion. The entertainment guy asked me if I knew how to harmonize. Um, duh. I was in choir from 4th grade to 8th grade. You definitely pick up harmony over eight years.

I smile convincingly again and say I was in choir for ten years--I decided to beef up my expertise because these two Army geeks definitely reeked of pure inexperience. I have to go sing with these idiots, and I must add that hey, the fight begins in five minutes. I sigh and internally roll my eyes, beginning to sing with these fools. As soon as they opened their mouths and began to sing, my inner hypothesis was immediately proven correct. They sucked. They knew absolutely nothing about harmony at all. I tried to sing above them to try to get some sort of harmony started, but I only had a few successful moments of harmony. By now my tumultuous sea of rage is seething just below the surface of my fakeass smile, but I decide that I am fucked and I have to make the most of it.

We roll on up to the cage, and I am figuring that hey, at least I will still look hot. They immediately put the brakes on that one. Someone shoves a white Army tee shirt over my head, and hey, the stupid shirt is two sizes too fucking big. Perfect. I am past smiling at this point, and I strut angrily into the cage. I am then informed that my heels have to come off because they will ruin the mat--why the hell didn't someone tell me that before I went shopping? I am furious. I leave the cage, and they announce my name--which, of course, is pronounced wrong. That is nothing new, people see Lashawn Chillious and immediately get intimidated. I am not pissed about that. I am pissed that my moment of shininess is being shitted on. I have to throw the boots on the ground and run into the cage in my socks and this stupid as hell shirt. I am beyond looking like nothing is wrong--they already started singing without me! I stomp over and discover that I HAVE NO MICROPHONE. How am I supposed to sing without a microphone??? I am so pissed that all I can do is stand there in a silent fury and attempt to sing along with these idiots. I am so mad that my throat goes dry and nothing comes out.

After I am done, I grab my shoes and go to my job's table. Everyone is stunned by what just went down. I am stunned, and I am furious and I yank the shirt off and put my boots back on. I am embarrassed and pissed and decide to go find my GM. I find him in the back of the expo center, and the first words out of his mouth are "What the fuck was that?" He had no idea what had just gone down. He thought that I was still the only one that was going to sing--smooth move, don't tell the guy in charge that you are fucking with the show. I am told that he is going to talk to Mr. Douchey Entertainment guy and that I am singing alone at his next fight.

After that moment of unparallelled suckiness, the night was great. The fights were good, and I had a good time with my friends.

Hey, Soul Sister

Hey my lovelies! Yesterday (Tuesday--yes, I know it's after 1 am, but in my bubble of Lashawn it is still technically Wednesday until I fall asleep and wake up at a later unspecified point in the morning. It's not Thursday in my mind.) was Nicky's birthday! He had a great time and is enjoying his presents--unbelievably, the rocketship never came up. He was more interested in his Thomas the Tank Engine trains. We watched his Max and Ruby DVDs, and I was informed by Encyclopedia Nick that Max and Ruby's parents were eaten by a dragon. My son is hilarious.

I should be writing my rough draft for my Honors English class on visual rhetoric, but I'm stuck, and one can only rant so much about Sarah Palin until the words mean nothing. It's due tomorrow night, and I have one long paragraph. I can work on it in the morning. Procrastination is a seductive wench, it really is. I gave up procrasinating for Lent, wish me luck.

In other news, I am singing at the "Solon Idol" in some little bar/club thing called the Blue Fig, in Solon, which is some itty bitty city out in the boondocks. I know of Solon only because you had to cut through there to get to Geauga Lake (an amusement park), which was in Aurora. I'm a big city girl--I mix up everything that isn't in Cleveland or immediately outside of it. I haven't sang on a stage in six years, and I get stage fright. I'm an awesome singer, but I'm nervous. Wish me luck!

Here is my Wednesday Late Night Playlist. Enjoy!

"I Still Ain't Over You", Augustana, (Can't Love, Can't Hurt)

"Sleep", Azure Ray, (Azure Ray)

"Taylor", Jack Johnson, (On & On)

"Speechless", Lady Gaga, (The Fame Monster)

"Uprising", Muse, (The Resistance)

"More Than This", Missy Higgins, (Steer & More-EP)

"Dying Day", Brandi Carlile, (Give Up the Ghost)

"I'm On Fire", John Mayer, (Battle Studies)

"Lifeboats", Snow Patrol, (A Hundred Million Suns)

"Know Your Onion!", The Shins, (Oh, Inverted World)

"Human of the Year", Regina Spektor, (Far)

"Gravity Rides Everything", Lenka, (Gravity Rides Everything-Single)