You've got your child tattooed on your back you're so excited about it...

"If life is what you make of it... why do we waste time waiting for it?"

Day in and day out I find myself not utilizing the time I am given. Each of us only has 24 hours each day. However, I feel as if most days I'm only using about ten of them. Even when I am in places where I am supposed to be productive, you know, like school and work, I still find ways to be lazy. I'm assuming tackling that feat is something I am trying to achieve by writing everyday. I also came to the conclusion I will be eating a frosty from Wendy's every of summer too. I hope my writing follows me into the rest of my year but definitely not the ice cream.

Yesterday was eventful. I found myself being a horrible host (my cousin is in town) but also doing some things I desperately needed to do. I spent the better part of my day moving a friend into a new house, napping in that new house, and eating fish from an old spot of ours. I am so confused right now I don't know what to do. But that's another story I'll never bring myself to tell, not even to myself.

On a much lighter note, I finally figured out what I wanted to write about today. I was going to write about why I think the Phoenix Suns failed so miserably, however instead I chose a topic everyone would enjoy. So here you go…

TOP 3 REASONS I DO NOT WANT CHILDREN.

1. I am not dating nor married to anyone attractive enough, tall enough, or boss enough to impregnate me.

Not only do I consider myself to be an attractive woman but also one who possesses quite a bit of brains. I know God blessed me with immense amounts of intelligence, beauty, life experience, and most of all athletic ability. All of those come hand in hand when finding a mate. If in the event I ever lay a brood of children they will all have a five feet nine inch mother (I hear that's the average height for males nowadays) and a six foot and some change father. That change will be at least two or three inches by the way. Call me picky. Call me unreasonable. I do not care. I will just say I have preferences. And as of late, I have yet to find someone to fit the criteria. I will not settle for less when it comes to raising someone who will essentially be a part of me. I do not want to attach my name to anything I'm not happy with. So nothing but over six foot, light skinned, handsome, athletic males will do. (No women. No periods. No risk of short slave hair.) Call me a perfectionist.

2. Children are the most expensive bill of your life.

Okay, let's think about this. You paid for the bed you were impregnated on or impregnated someone on. So maybe you didn't pay for it per say. Maybe it was at a friend’s house (now isn't that one for the grand kids). For my story's sake you are married and you paid for this magical bed. So that's one thing you've paid for and you aren't even pregnant yet. Then you miss your period (assuming you're a woman). Or your girl's missed her period, you both are scared shitless. That just cost you a few years off your life and you still don't know for certain if you're pregnant. So the minute you/your girl is late you/your girl runs out and purchases that dreaded pregnancy test. I've never had to buy one so I don't know how much they cost. But by the looks of those new commercials with the digital "yes you've ruined your life"/"no you'll live another day but you keep this up doom will sure follow" signs they have to be in the $10.00 range. So what's that? The bed, the years off your life, and now a $10.00 pregnancy test. Damn. And you ain’t even showing yet.

Okay, so now you're pregnant. And I'm sorry but I don't like children enough to know how much all that messy formula, diapers, clothes, you know... the works cost. But I’m sure it's a lot. I do not feel the need to go into detail about how much money you will be spending over the course of your life time on these little rugrats. Who frankly, will likely grow up to be big rugrats you will still be paying for. Think to yourself. I don't care how old you are. As long as your parents are still living, there is sometime or another in the past year they have tossed a little cheddar your way. See, lifers. I'm just not down for all that. Do you know how many season basketball tickets I could buy with what I would spend raising a child. And I want one of you to convince me that floor seats at the Lakers (I don't even like the Lakers, it was more of a status analogy) isn't better than your little bundle of joy.

3. I will not ever tolerate a child that needs a leash.

Man. Kids are bad now a days. Friday night on our way to karaoke we stopped by Albertson's to pick up a few things. The minute I walked in I noticed a man holding what looked like a leash. My eyes moved slowly from the man's hand down the canvas strap to what looked like a little rodent, but ended up being his son. I was astonished. I mean a leash? His child was strapped in like a animal... on a leash. Can I blame him? No. Should you? Fuck no. In just the past three days I've ran into three children that were worthy of a leash. Is it the parents fault? You bet your ass it is. But there are some children that are just bad by nature.

Let me explain. It was about two days ago I joined my mother for a burger at In N Out. During the course of our meal there was this little bad ass Mexican kid running around the joint. I mean literally running. Sliding. Falling. Making a goddamn mess. He had on a shirt that was two sizes too small. His belly was hanging out over his pants. He had ketchup all over his face and hands. This kid was filthy. I look over at his mom who had a lot of about five with her and she was playing with little Juan's happy meal toy. (I don't know what they call them at In N Out). Well anyway, the kid wasn't even bothering me or my Mom because we all know my mom would have tripped his little ass. I felt more concern for people who were sitting behind him. You know those glass partitions In N Out uses to separate their booths? Well this kid is standing on his mother's shoulders screaming at the couple who were trying to enjoy their double doubles. Maria had to be high because there is no way she could have been sober letting her kid mount her like a horse. No way. Now if Maria would have had little Juan in a leash none of this would have even happened.

Life is good when you have no children. I mean, I’m happy. I don’t need any snotty nosed, bald headed, badass to validate my greatness. I can do that shit on my own. If you didn’t know, before you know now. Don’t expect to be invited to no baby shower. And that’s real.

Peace and Love

(2,470 words and counting)

P.S. Laker fans… You mad?

As promised. See if you ain't heard.

I met a woman named Ursula today. She was wearing a leather vest and looked a little like Ms. Flint on Monsters Inc. (I couldn't find a picture yet).

Exactly why we karaoke:

Wow. Last night was hands down the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I looked fly. My girls did too. We turned the Junction out. I’m sure just about every Saturday from here on out I will have something to say about my time at the Junction Friday night. Everything I’m about to say may seem like an exaggeration. But it’s not.

The true stories of the Conjunction Junction What’s Your Function:

First allow me to explain this place I just so happen to visit every Friday night. There are plenty of Caucasians wearing cow boy boots and hats. There are other Caucasians wearing whatever they wear when they step out of a trailer. So, if you haven’t seen what I look like yet, let me be the first to tell you, I don’t quite fit in. I am 5’9, Black, and wear a huge curly ‘fro on my head. I wear sneakers and jeans and last night I had to bring out the big guns in my new Hundreds T. There is a bar that is occupied with cow girls and cow boys courting each other. There is a stage that is occupied by a single man who is missing most of his teeth (he is the DJ/Karaoke Master). He has a little corner with a lone CD player and a fold up table in which he keeps extra microphones. The Bartender is a liar. The waitress is drunk. And every one in there stares at us when we walk in the door. Do I blame them? No. I guess if the boot was on the other foot I might do that too.

Well, when we walk in we head straight for a table. I knew the lying bartender from a previous “club” in Bakersfield so he gave me the proverbial head nod and point. You know the one. The drunk waitress approached Shanyia and said, “Are you guys going to sing?” Shanyia replied with, “of course” and a slight shake of the head. I should have known the night would be great from just those two moments.

We all gathered around the table having had finished a full size bottle of SoCo in the parking lot just minutes before. My buzz was starting to kick in as I approached the two of the only other three black people in the whole establishment.

Me: “Hey, do you mind if I look at that book?” (The book with all the songs in it)

Black Lady: “Yes.”

Me: “Yes you do mind or yes you don’t?”

Black Man: “Yes we do.”

Me: “Ok. Why? I mean aren’t they here for everyone to share?”

Black Lady: “We brought this. This is our own copy of the book. We are regulars and we have about 65 songs we sing here three nights a week. So yes, I do mind.”

Me: “Damn. I mean, are you getting paid? I mean you must be if you’re here so often.”

Black Lady: “No. I don’t get paid. But there have been plenty of times when I have received tips.”

Me: “So you used your tip money to buy that binder from the dude with no teeth?”

Black Man: “Yes, we did. Who are you to judge me?”

Me: “I’m not judging you. I haven’t heard you sing yet. I just wanted to see the binder. It’s cool. Just don’t mess up. Or I’ll boo that ass.”

Needless to say we found another book. And the likes of which we chose to sing are but are not limited to the following:

Jumpin’ Jumpin’- Destiny’s Child
Get Down On it- Kool and the Gang
Wannabe- Spice Girls
Déjà vu- Beyonce feat. Jay-Z

And I’m sure there are others I don’t remember.

The night proceeded to blur on. Songs were sung. People danced. And everyone was merry.

Life is good at the Junction. It’s a place you can sing your worries away. Where cow girls and boys rub elbows with sneaker wearing, SoCo drinking, basketball lovers.

I didn’t know a word to that damn Kool in the Gang song but I’ll tell you what, I did work that crowd like it was my damn job. I see why that black couple took it so seriously. The Junction ain’t no joke.

Peace and Love

(word count to date... 1,170)

My first song.

I'm growing up. I finally maned up and got a big girl blog. I was scared no one would read anything I wrote if I deviated from my beloved myspace page. Though I know the only reason I still have one is because I blog there. I can completely understand why none of my friends would want to venture out into the "real" world of blogging. So I chose to make it easy for them by sticking to the place where they all gather. Speaking of which, I just hit 1,001 views yesterday and 10 posts. I know, I know, it’s minuscule to some, but for me is a great accomplishment.My plan is to write (or blog) daily at least 350 words for everyday of summer. I have not chose any specific topics as of yet but I do promise to entertain. So hello to all my old friends who have followed me over and hello to all my new friends that will discover me now.

A little explanation about my blog...
My title is Blog about me. And if you had a chance to read the description underneath, you'd know what I meant. (However, if you haven't, look up now and the rest will make sense.) Let me first start with saying I am arrogant. I do not pretend to be. It is just my nature. I do not care what people think of me. I maintain my own opinions, which are not ever up for discussion, and I have no conscience. I know you are waiting for me to say sike, or just kidding. But I'm not, so don't hold your breath. I don't admire people, I am never jealous and the key to being arrogant is not to lust after someone else’s anything because you already know yours is better. I will beat you at anything you want to play. Jacks, dominoes, chutes and ladders, a foot race, life (and I'm not talking about the board game). I'm just very confident in my God given abilities to beat anybody at anything. Wow, I guess I just oxymoroned (I know this is not a word) myself. I said my blog wasn't going to be about me, but I guess a little insight was needed. So, with less than an hour before my girls show up and still no shower I must say goodbye. I'm sorry this wasn't that entertaining. However tomorrow is a new day. I'm going to karaoke tonight. You better believe I'll have a story to tell you tomorrow. =]

Peace and Love.
431 words… and counting