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13 August 2009 @ 10:06 pm

the most? Is when you have those friends that treat you like a moron when you're clearly not. And it only seems to have intensified since this pregnancy. Like, "Oh, Erica, CLEARLY since I'VE not HAD a child, I CLEARLY know what's going on with your body." It's annoying. So, I have this friend and for some reason she feels the need to undermine my intelligence. Like I'm too stupid to know, comprehend and understand the things thatI'm reading or studying. And, it's not just pregnancy. It's like this: I'm writing numerous things at once and one of them involves witchcraft, only it's strange and weird and involves me researching witchcaft from ancient days, around the time of Solomon in the Bible.

So, she gets on my PC and says," Tsk, tsk, Erica, what are you studying?" in this annoying tone of voice that just drips with disdain, as if I'm a total nincompoop and don't understand what the hell it is exactly that I pulled up on the screen. So, I ask her: "What the hell are you talking about?" She glances at me/my-hostile-expression and then backat my screen and says in a voice much cowed, "Nevermind *lulz*."

THEN, when it comes to this pregnancy, me and Shawn are talking about what's been up with my body for the first trimester and what's up with it for the second, and also this nefarious pregnancy line that I'm supposed to get (the linea negra). We were looking at pictures of a photographer friend of his and I was bemoaning the fact that I hadn't gotten mine yet as it usually appears around the second trimester (my own personal research and the information my effin' DOCTOR provided for me to read) and she suddenly butts into the the conversation saying, "No, no, you're not supposed to get that until your third." So, I shake my head and tell her, "No, you get it during your second." And she proceeds to give me ths look like clearly I'M mistaken and therefore in my ignorance I am CLEARLY an idiot because her word is effin' LAW.

"No, Erica, it's in your third. Trust me, I know this."

"Yes, but my DOCTOR told me that it appears in your second most typically."

And proceeded to give me the "I-am-the-goddess-of-all-knowledge-and-therefore-you-MUST-listen-and-obey" look. WTF? So, I let the conversation drop because...whatever, she's one of my good friends and those are hard to come by...who gives a shit? But it just irks me. She did a whole lot of other shit that pissed me off for the last few days, but that was the crux that just made me realizes: Okay, chica, you've overstayed your welcome immensely.

Reason: her car had been hi-jacked by the police, and me being the incredibly nice friend that I am, dragged my aching, hurting pregnitty ass out of bed and, accompanied by my wonderful brother-in-law, drove thirty minutes from where we lived to pick her up at eleven o'clock at night from her school, when she could've walked a block or two and gotten to a mutual friend's house, who would've gladly let her stay with him and of whom it would've been MORE convenient for her, and ME, to have stayed there with him, instead.

Whatever. Semantics.

So, she comes to the house to stay and I was all ready to make up the couch for her to sleep on, with a nice comfy pillow and blankets, etc, but she parks herself in my and my boyfriend's bedroom, on the floor, and well...Shawn can be a space-case at times...so, when I clearly shot him a look that said, "Muthfuckah, you out yo goddamn mind she ain' sleepin in this here bed with my pregnitty ass", he took the hint. She parked her ass on that floor for two damn days straight not doing a damn thing to get her car out of impound. And make not mistake, Shawn's pop is lord of the house (even though he technically doesn't own the house, but Chinese families can be a little...interesting...to observe) and to save trouble, Shawn doesn't piss his dad off a lot becuse that short man is scary as HELL. And the man doesn't like black people. At all. He tolerates me, but...ther are very few that he'll acknowledge. Case in point, a few days was all she had to stay there, but she made not move to get herself up, contact the people she needed to contact to get her car out of impound or....really, anything...

And it got annoying by the second HOUR that she was there because there are a lot of things that Shawn can't stand. Like...a dirty room. And not just a "here's-a-few-clothes-scattered-on-the-floor" dirty...No, no, no...she left her muffin wrappers, clothes, computer bag, cake box and whole bunch of other crap just lying around and not bothering to pick it up at all. And that started to piss him off, but he's calm and patient and just cleaned up her dirty mess. Whilst me...well, when she decided to start eating somemore of them around Shawn and I, I kindly informed her: "Yes, and do try to pick-up those wrappers. You left them all over the room."

Her response? "Oh, I thought I picked them up." Really? Because I've had her stay at my apartment before when I had one and she blatantly leaves crap everywhere and it's NOT like you can't miss it. Damn, this is an effin tiny ASS room for crying outloud. THOSE ARE SOME NOTICEABLE WRAPPERS, CAKE BOX and FUCKING CLOTHES!!!!!! It was one thing at my apartment. I have a high patience level and a high level of tolerance and I'm a bit OCD so I don't want people touching my crap because then I'll get insane about putting EVERYTHING back where it needs to be to the smallest detail. But this isn't my place of residence. This isn't her place of residence, so the same disgusting CRAP that you pulled when you had yur own place and were staying at mine, DOES NOT FLY HERE! It's nasty. It attracts roaches. Shawn and I CAN'T stand fucking la cucaracha. But the social graces don't seem to penetrate. Whatever. MAybe I'M a bit too harsh, but she KNOWS how I feel about dirt, nastiness and just....ew. Ew is disgusting. Ew is the epitome of evil. Ew is just...ew.

AND THEN, she has a tendency of being a bit of a...attention hog. Like, I'm not really one for the limelight. I can get up in front of people and talk and what not, but honestly, I'm fine in the background, drinking an iced tea and laughing at everyone else's antics. But EVERY time I'm around her, she simply HAS to say something that draws the attention to her, makes HER the center of the whole damn universe and it gets annoying. Like, don't talk about retarded shit while we're trying to watch a fucking movie. Don't say, "Oh, when I was a kid, ghosts used to come to me ALL the time and my pillow even turned into a severed head when I was sleeping. *lulz*teehee*" It just gets yu looked at likeyou're crazy for saying it at the most inopportune time. Like, I'm all for talking about the supernatural, but NOT when we're just trying to enjoy the movie.

AND, on top of that,poking me when I'm snuggling up to my boyfriend while watching said movie not once, not twice, not even three times, but throughout the whole fucking movie until I send you the death glare of all death glares. Seriously? Don't peeved because you decided to get involved with some guy WAY the bumfuck up in Pennsyl-fucking-vania! Don't get pissed because people are giving me attention because of the baby. Seriously? They're REALLY only concerned about the kid; I'm the glorified incubator.

I mean, I know her issue with babies. She had a miscarriage and she feels the pain of that, but damn...It's not like I begged God for this. It happened and I'm rolling with punches. But treat me like I'm an invalid just because of what happened to you. It may be her misguided attempt at keeping the baby safe, but trust...I've been doing a pretty decent job of it so far. I think I can handle the rest, goddamn.

AND, on top of that, she inserted herself into one of the people going to be there in the birthing room, and I keep trying to correct her and let her know, "No, you're not going to be. The baby's blood family gets first dibs." So, that means if say (because Shawn and my mom are going to be there regardless, but that leaves one slot open): Shawn's Mom, Dad or My Dad or Aunt want to be there, they duke that out amongst themselves and whichever wins that match get to be there, but since I'm sure Shawn's Dad and minewill be in agreement that that's NOT where they want to be that leaves my aunt and Shawn's mom, Lori. And if Lori bows out then that means my aunt gets automatic. If my aunt can't make it, THEN you get to be there, but even then...she'll have to content with my Asha, because Ashley's like a sister to me and I'd probably request her being there first.

But her response? "Well, I'm fighting whoever's there."

Taha! Glucklich with that. My mom and Shawn are automatic, and my aunt could take anybody. Shaw's mom doesn't look so weak herself.

AND THEN, she inserts herself as my maid of honor. Sorry, sweetcakes, but that title automatically became my Asha's in the summer of 2005 when that girl jumped into the freezing Chattahoochee River to save my drowning ass. So, when I tried to let her know that, she has a bit of selective hearing. And proceeded to change the season that my wedding fell in and decided which photographer to hire, and the only reason she wanted Anthony as the photographer is because she knows that he and I had a bit of a romantic history together and that that candle still burns brightly to this day (huh, so I AM a heartbreaker... who'dathunkit?), and she often does things for the entertainment value of the drama that would ensue. Plus, I know Shawn might not've been comfortable with that idea and since, I've comandeered EVERY aspect of the wedding, I figure he deserves the right to have SOME say so (*lulz*).

Bt, when I tell her...oh yeah, Shawn likes these people so if we ever had a wedding (if we ever had a wedding *snorts*), he wants to hire them.

"Oh, well, doesn't that mean that Shawn picked them and not you." in this hoity-toity ass voice, like she's miss fucking know-it-all. So, I quickly correct her, "Well, since *I* liked them too...I figured they'd be perfect because they have WAY more experience than Antho." Thanks for playing, ass....come again. It shut her up but I guess she's starting to realize, lke my Mom, I'm becoming a mother now and some things that I was willing to put up with I'm not willing to put up with now. I can admit, I can be a bit of a doormat, but how the hell am I supposed to raise a strong, driven child if their mother is an effin doormat?

She may not like the fact that I have opinions (and is definately resistant to that idea), but fuck what ya heard. I DO have a temper and it's starting to reach its boiling point with her. Because it's one thing to, at any point in a relationship, accept that your friend has opinions and can think for herself, but its quite another that you give your friend a veiled warning by saying, "I'm going to let you get away with that, but only because I know you're pregnant."

Oh really now, bitch? REALLY? Because when my pregnitty ass is no longr pregnitty and these opinions still muthafuckin exist, what the fuck you gonna do then?
Current Location: Shawn's House
Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
Current Music: Dynasty Warriors 6: Empires
06 August 2009 @ 01:30 pm

In hindsight, I should've seen this coming. Honestly, I should have. Anyway, I shall come out and say it. I beez preggers, yo. Yeah, me...pregnant. Say what?! But, as stated, in hindsight, I should've seen this coming. When I was a little girl and  I found out all about the loveliness that births a baby into the world (in actuality, it wasn't lovely because when my parents explained, imagine me as a child with the look of utter disgust on my face, saying, "EW! PEOPLE DO THAT! o.0"), I thought to myself and said to myself, "Self, I'll just bet you'll get yourself knocked up one day. It'll be just your luck too...sonofabitch." And what happened? Ten - Thirteen years after that faithful convo of disgusting, I am knocked the hell up. Thirteen weeks, and this kid is kicking my ass and showing me, "No, mummy, I really AM going to be an Aquarius...Just you wait and see!"


Okay, I didn't mean that, but goddammit do I miss Italian food. And then the nurse at my OBGYN had the nerve to be a snooty bitch when I called to ask them, "Hey, muthafuckah, how the fuck you doin? Anyway, I got my ass a prob. See my bitchass can't get no damn sleep at night cuz my baby wanna go all Bruce Lee on my ass and my Tums ain't doin shit, ya dig? So, what the fuck can I take, bitch?"

Okay, I didn't say it like that. I sounded pitiful and tired, but one can dream goddamn. So, snootily told me, "You shouldn't be eating anything with spices, you know."

Seriously, bitch? When my doctor told my ass no spicey foods and shit and just a bland diet do you think I didn't listen? Okay, I didn't, but that was only once and I paid for it for twenty-four hours straight afterwards. So, yeah, bland, nasty and paste all the fucking way. So, I tell her, "Lady, I've been eating bird food. Fruits, veggies and rice, and if I'm lucky, a piece of toast in the morning."

"Well, you need to be staying away from acids."



"Can you tell me what I can take?" Before I jump through this phone and beat your snooty, puta ass, you pendejo!

"Mylanta, Zantac or Tums. That's it. And if it keeps hurting, make an appointment, okay?"

"Sure, muthafuckah."


"Sure. Dueces."


Seriously, I'm pregnant. Not dumb. I'm going to beat these people's asses. Don't get mad at me because YOU were a fat cow at thirteen weeks, but I have miraculously been able to maintain my gorgeous, girlish figure and am only weighing in at 130 lbs. Sorry. Not my issue.

Whatever. I'm going back to work.
Tags: ,
Current Mood: crankycranky
08 June 2009 @ 04:02 pm
Okay, so I'm scared to death right now. Terrified even, and I really want to go take a test just to confirm in my mind that I'm not overreacting, but how can I not overreact when me and my boyfriend are talking last night/this morning and he jokingly states: "Well, I might have to kick you to the curb." Seriously?

But it's my body.

Then, then, I get up and come to this office (let's not even mention that I couldn't sleep last night at all and kept on waking up with an irrational fear, which--in hindsight--isn't all that irrational), and I get online to do research and I find two bloggers at war with each other on this issue and it's not helping me at all.

So, I'm freaked because I know if I make a decision (and mind you, contrary to any of that "you're a couple so it's a joint decision crap", it's still ultimately my body and my decision) then I'll have to leave with it and he JUST might kick me to the curb and find someone else.

I said I don't want them now, but that doesn't mean I don't at all. Just not NOW. I'm stingy. I'm 23. I haven't seen the world yet. I haven't done anything worth mentioning. I'm selfish.

I scared shitless.

Oh please, oh please just start already.
Current Mood: scaredscared
Current Music: Clattering Teeth & Quaking Heartbeat
19 May 2009 @ 06:59 pm
Should we just be handing over the car keys when kids turn 16? Why or why not?
I never can understand the conflicts that arise from questions like these. I remember what it was like to be sixteen, much more so than parents or the legislators that want to make these laws remember, and just because they feel like it's their self-imposed duty to keep children and teenagers safe doesn't mean that the ways they go about making children and teenagers safe are best ones. I remember taking a driving course in tenth and eleventh grade and the one memory that stands out to me is the fact that my driving instructor at the time completely ignored me when I was on the serpentine and trying to understand the dynamics of a parallel park. Yes, the dreaded parallel park. I had always heard about the diifculties in understanding it and the rumors about how it was the most irritating parking technique, but I still wanted to learn it. I tried, unsuccessfully to get her attention, but she still ignored me and that day, I never learned.

The point I'm trying to make is, maybe instead of limiting a teenagers' rite of passage into adulthood, and devalue their feelings on the matter in taking yet another decision away from them among the many that disconnected and overzealous senators, politicians and legistlators make to sway voters, perhaps you should crack down on the parents and the driving instructors, the classes and the schools about updating their driving manuals, getting back in the classroom and becoming involved in the teenagers and childrens' studies and stop blaming the kids for an obvious lack of parental guidance, understanding and control. Parents are negligent and are more willing to blame other things than their lack of actually being parents and not pursuing pipe dreams of being young again or wearing their sons' or daughters' clothes.

Parents should be parents. Kids should be kids, and people should take effin responsibility for themselves and their families.

Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
15 May 2009 @ 05:38 pm

Something to nibble on:

I Keep Coming Back To ThisCollapse )It's a portion of the book. Not quite all of it, and I can't tear myself away. I think I'm putting too much pressure on myself to write, and writing should never be about pressure. GAH!

Anyway, Star Trek? Any one? Anyone?

Haz ya seen it?
Current Mood: awakeawake
24 April 2009 @ 02:35 pm

Listen to it. Listen to the whole thing. Especially about Spock.

Current Mood: ecstaticecstatic
19 April 2009 @ 01:17 pm

Dear LJ:

I finally found the chucklehead a few days ago. My Ladybird was in a completely different neighbor's backyard because animal control had scoped the neigborhood, the neighbors got her just in time and since her collar was missing, animal control told them to keep her as they would've just put her in pound, waited a few days for the owners to claim her and then--if not--would've put her up for adoption before euthanizing her if no one wanted her.

My boyfriend asked around and the people revealed that they had her and THEN were trying to negotiate with my boyfriend about letting them keep her. Conversation went alittle like this:

Neighbor Guy (leading boyfriend, boyfriend's dad and brother to back yard): So, she's a really great dog.

Boyfriend: Yeah, I know. She really is.

Neighbor Guy (hesitating at backdoor): She gets along really great with the kids.

Boyfriend: Yeah, I know. Can I have my dog back?

Neighbor Guy: She plays really great with the other dog we got.

Boyfriend: I know. That's awesome. Can I have my dog back?

Neighbor Guy: Yeah, but...

Boyfriend (interrupting): Look, man. Me and my girl went to the pound earlier today and she cried when she didn't see her pup in any of the cages. If she doesn't get that dog back, she's going to be extremely pissed at me, and when she's pissed, she's unpredictable. So....can I have my dog back?

(Neigh Guy relents. MY PUPPY CAME HOME!!!)

But seriously, WTF? It's not like I'm a psychopath or anything. I just really love my dog and if I saw those people walking her AND she was right across the street, heads would've been rolling.

On a side note, the day after, the boyfriend decided to get a six week old puppy, same breed, and somehow I'm taking care of him. Say what? Don't get me wrong; Max is adorkable when he's not biting you, but really pimpin', how'd I get roped with taking care of the pup. And funny thing is, he doesn't listen to the boyfriend much and when I'm around, he automatically seeks me out. AND he peed on the boyfriend's bed this morning. BUT somehow managed to miss MY bedspread. Go figure.

Anyway, make way for teh awesome:


I'll freely admit it...I am a Star Trek fangirl. I love Star Trek. Sue me. And I'm dragging everyone to see it when it comes out. Call me demanding, pssht. Whatever. Your ass is still coming to the movie theatre.

Now, enough talk! More fanfiction!!!!

In And Out Of Time update: (7/10). Whoo-hoo!
Current Location: MY PUPPY IS HOME!!
Current Mood: cheerfulcheerful
Current Music: MY PUPPY IS HOME!!
09 April 2009 @ 12:21 pm
Dear LJ:

Day two, and I still haven't found my puppy. Where is she?
Current Location: At Work
Current Mood: sadsad
Current Music: I Want To Find My Dog
08 April 2009 @ 05:41 pm

Dear LJ:

I think I've grown up a lot over the years and the things that used to scare the crap out of me...Well, they don't anymore. Take for instance, my dad. When I was a kid, my father was this towering giant whose severe glower could scare the living crap out of me and made me hop to and do whatever task he commanded. It wasn't that he ran his household like a well-oiled machine (even though he did; something, I think was left over from his Army days) or that he made some of the most outrageous requests to puff up his ego (he is an Aries after all with a side order of Scorpio rising...Guh, try growing up with THAT combination for a father and you'll get where I'm coming from), he was just...selfish. Okay, let's not mince it. He was very selfish, and sometimes to the point where it excluded all others.

You maybe wondering about that last statement. Well, there's two kinds of selfish. There's the prideful selfish and then there's just plain old fricken selfish. My grandmother (dad's mom) was, according to my Dad, prideful selfish: when his great aunts offered to raise my pop in a fairly well-off household and allow him to be enrolled in a pretty decent school, my grams refused because she wanted to keep her son with her and raise him according to her standards. Then there's just selfish-selfish, where--whatever you do--it benefits no one in ANY way, shape or form, sometimes no even you. My pop was a combination of both, but sometimes that latter more often than the former.

Either way, growing up with my dad could be considered a very...interesting...experience to say the least. Irregardless, he was selfish and I'll get to my point.

I'm a romantic, and I celebrate the little and then big things in life because ta-da! That's just how I roll. So, me and my current boyfriend's six month anniversary is coming up and while most would say "Six months. THAT's what you're celebrating?" I rather like to think, as I so eloquently put it to my boyfriend, that I'm celebrating that fact that "we've spent ALL this time together and we have yet to kill each other." So, I took him, his mom, his brother, my brother and my mom out to eat at this swanky bar-BBQ grill resturant thingie last night, and it was a fan-damn-tastic night. There were comedians and singers and yummy Lamb ribs (if you object to the eating of lamb ribs....well, I'll be sure not to share them with YOU).

Anyway, there is a method to my madness. I do specific things strategically and methodically when I execute them. I do my Moon-in-Capricorn proud sometimes when the plans go off without a hitch, and despite a bumps, last night went off without a hitch. UNTIL my brother told my Dad earlier that evening of our plans, and when I heard I gave a mental groan of annoyance because, like clockwork, my pop calls me this morning and decides to leave me a message that gets my goad.

The message is thus:

"So, why didn't YOU tell ME that you were going out to eat last night? Why wasn't *I* invited? Are you ashamed of me? Do *I* embarrass YOU?...blah blah blah blah blah blah".....I stopped listening about half-way through because my father seems to have forgotten one VERY small, TINY, miniscule aspect of my personality: I have a temper. More specifically, I have HIS temper and once it flairs up, I don't give a rat's ass who's in my vicinity, it's exploding like Mount Vesuvius and whoever's there gets caught in the aftermath. Luckily, Chaka (the cat) scampered away when he saw the thundercloud forming on my brow.

Like I said: there's a mthod to my madness. I didn't invite my pop because I had seperate dinner planned for him and his girlfriend, Marilyn. Since my mom and Marilyn don't get along and would be making cat-eyes at each other the entire night (not to mention, ME receiving a less-than-welcome phone call from my mother the next morning or THAT night of: "why the HELL did you invite her?" and the WHOLE DAMN silent, uncomfortable treatment that the two icy she-queens would've entrenched the entire table in that whole night...seriously, d'you SEE the friggin hassle I would've had to deal with? Not only that; it was MY treat to everyone because EVERYONE is usually buying me stuff and I didn't want to seem like a siftless, ass, damn NEGRO to my maybe-possibly-who-knows-future in-laws, and if my pop would've come, he would've PAID for everything and decisively pranced his Alpha-male status around to EVERYONE at the table and then would've glowered at my boyfriend with the aforementioned severity and would've, in that one glare, stated pointedly, "Why aren't YOU paying?" I've got my dad down to a science).

I dialed my pop back and he asnwers the phone in a smug sort of, "Yes, Erica?" kind of way and I think, "Oh no, poppa-dear, that shit don't fly with me, son."

And I let him have it. I read him the riot act because let's get something straight, me and my family aren't all peaches and creme. Crazy shit has happened in the past, some of it has been forgiven; lots of it we're still working out the kinks on, but he should know that I have NEVER felt ashamed to call him my dad. Why, I've gotten downright offended when one of my mom's long time boyfriends (an Ex- now) had the gall to try insert himself into my life like he was a secondary father or some such. I let that guy have it too. Just as much as any woman that tries to insert herself as my mother will get read the riot act and then some. I don't mess around, and he knows this and he tried to use the Guilt-trip card on me that MIGHT have had an effect had I been twelve-years-old and more neurotic than I am now.


I've grown up and I damn sure ain't afraid of the bulgy-neck-with-the-ticking-vein-and-the-foaming-at-the-mouth face that he used to flash me and my brothers when he got angry. Like I says, "That shit don't fly, son."

Now, I must go off and pray to GOD Almighty that my puppy comes home. Somehow, the helion got out of the backyard and is nowhere to be found. The boyfriend thinks she's been kidnapped and if I find out those kids next door had anything to do with, FUCKING HEADS WILL ROLL.

Pray for them me.
Current Location: Looking For My Pup-Pup
Current Mood: anxiousanxious

I finally have a title for the Sequel to "In And Out Of Time", and to celebrate I made myself a nifty little image to go right along with it. And thanks to someone on kyle_jessi , I have now been bit with a Sequel to the Sequel to "In And Out Of Time", and is set ten years into the future. Damn. LMAO!

Current Mood: creativecreative