this past weekend, i did everything i wanted to do, mostly alone. and. it. was. awesome. yes, i did do a few things with others, but i had a very relaxing time with no pressure to do anything i didn't want to do.
i would stop there, but this past week was absolutely ridiculous.
okay, so i've been going to the gym everyday for the past 3-4 weeks. except last week, because it sucked. it went by really quickly, but it was something like a quick mess. i don't know. it's all a blur now. nothing really memorable happened except for a lot of ridiculous traffic and the fact that the ravens and the redskins lost last weekend.
yesterday, the ravens almost killed me (again). they were down 24-3 at the half, but came back for the win. joe flacco sometimes blows me. figuratively, not literally. i think tyrod taylor should've had a go at quarterback yesterday, but whatevs.
the skins? not so much. they got shut out 24-0 by the freaking buffalo bills (what the hell is that even about), and john beck got sacked a record 9 times. oh, not to mention, it was shanahan's first shut out in his entire coaching career. how ridiculous.
i did get to watch some episodes of the office on netflix (they just got season 7!!!), my all time favorite show, over the weekend. that was really fun and relaxing. i did some lock maintenance on jesse's dreads, which was really fun for me since i haven't done them in a while (they look amazing). i went to the gym with my mom and we went to dinner afterwards.
my weekend rocked!
i'm sure this post probably won't get a lot of feedback, but i am just so happy to be coasting through my 52 in 52. it's rare that i stick to something for an entire year (boredom, adult ADD, stuff like that you know), so it's encouraging to see that i've knocked out 2 months consistently. annnnnd, i've done a bunch of other cool things, too, like joined a gym and went consistently for the past 3 weeks, baked a cake (not from scratch, but it was so good), and my knee is doing so much better, too! it gets stiff and feels weak at times, but no complaints here.
oh, and for 80s day at work today, i cut my hair into a mohawk and did some really colorful makeup. today is awesome, and this week is already looking promising.
xx,
ronetta
10.26.2011
rant post, because you can always keep your legs closed
someone just called my job trying to force me to do something i physically can't do, repeatedly. and what does that do to me? it irritates me.
it also seems like rape, except there was no touching involved.
i'm a legal drug dealer. i should probably go into great detail about this and blah blah blah, but it's quite simple. i give ladies birth control. it's really that simple.
well, there's more to it, but for the sake of introduction, that's all there is to it (for now).
so i answer my phone, because that's what i do, and i ask how i can help, right? sounds pleasant enough.
immediately, this chick starts spouting off a rant about how her doctor ordered herkid stopper machine intra-uterine device (IUD) in may...
stop and check your calendar: it's october. then end of october, lady. so shut the hell up.
...and her current stopper expires in november, and she still doesn't have the new one. then she proceeds to tell me to look it up and she wants to order it now, because this is really unprofessional.
*pause* is it really unprofessional? or is the fact that you did not introduce yourself, your doctor's name, or the nature of your call, at the beginning of the conversation?
me: *deep breath* okay ma'am (and you know what ma'am means), you can't place the order becuase it's a specialty item; the doctor must always place the order on your behalf. so what you're saying is your doctor ordered an actual IUD (not possible, because their office would have it on the shelf, seeing as though it takes 1 business day for them to have it once we ship it) and it is now 5 months later, and they are stating they do not have it, but they have not called us?
her: can you just look me up?!
me: no, i cannot look you up by your name. if you have a case number (hipaa, anyone? hello?) the verification/reimbursement department can see if your doctor ordered a benefits verification, but i can't check that in the distribution department (because we distribute, not verify. clearly).
broad: well someone needs to check this! my IUD expires next month and i need a new one.
me: have you had your benefits verified? is it possible--
douche bag: look, i just need the IUD. how can i get it?
me: *long pause* your doctor has to order it if you have medical insurance. if they do not want to do that, you can pay out of pocket for it, via the specialty pharmacy.
idiot: you know what? i don't even need this! i will just go with another pharmaceutical company who will give it to me! i just want to buy it.
me: okay, bye. *in my nail filing, yawning voice*
now, here's a piece of information: my office is the sole distributor of this contraceptive devise. *stewie griffin voice* that's right, mitch. you can't get it anywhere else but from me. so get over it.
it gets richer here.
me: *answering phone* this is ronetta, how can i help?
same freaking lady: okay, i apologize if i sound a little frustrated, but i have been on the phone for 2 goddamned hours trying to figure this out.
my thoughts, you ask? maybe if you would eat a slice of shut the hell up pie, you would have saved your precious 2 hours and understood the process.
me: ma'am? yeah, it's me again. i can definitely repeat the same thing i told you the last time we spoke, but after you ask me a question, i really need you toshut the hell up wait for me to answer that question, okay?
her: okay, okay. i'm just really frustrated and--
me: i get that, ma'am. but you have to listen to the answer so you know what comes next.
her: okay, okay.
me: you need to have your benefits officially verified so that we, as a certified company and the sole distributor, can make that information available to your doctor's office, so that they can proceed with placing the order at your request.
her: but they won't--
me: no ma'am. you need to listen. *pauses, hears her sigh* once they are aware of how much your insurance will cover, they can place the order. get this--they have 90 days to pay for the IUD, which means, they can submit their invoice to your insurance company. your insurance company is contracted to pay whatever we confirmed with them, which means they will send your doctor's office a check for the amount promised. your doctor will then pay for the IUD, and you can pay for the remaining amount through the doctor's office.
her: *whining* but they won't do that! they got burned before and patients wouldn't pay!
me: if we verify that your insurance is paying for it, and you would only owe a very small percentage (more than likely a co-payment) of the IUD, then your doctor's office would not be footing the bill--you would.
her: but they won't--
me: okay, so plan B is that your doctor--yes, they still have to place the order--places the order for you with the specialty pharmacy. they will contact you for pay--
her: they won't order!! they wo--
me: --MENT arrangements, and you will be fiscally responsible for the entire cost of the unit. we will ship the unit to the doctor's office, so they don't have to pay.
her: but if i do that, my insurance will only cover 80%!
me: option C is to go to another physician who will order the unit according to what we and your insurance company are requesting.
her: i don't want to go to another doctor--
me: that's option C, ma'am, meaning you still have options A and B to go through first.
her: so you want me to go to another doctor--
me: ma'am. i want you to calm down and understand that this process is fairly simple, and there are plenty of options.
her: i'm not going to another doctor!
me: *hardest sigh ever*
her: i don't want someone else sticking stuff up my insides! my current doctor knows all of my medical history. i've lost 230 pounds and gotten plastic surgery. i want my doctor to do this procedure! i--
me: plain and simple, then, your doctor has to order the IUD. bottom line, that's it. they have to bill your medical insurance, or you have to pay out of pocket and be reimbursed. that's it, there's no more to it.
her: you know what? fine. this is totally ridiculous.
me: okay, bye.
i'm sorry, but this device is not the only form of kid prevention. there are pills, there are shots, there is the ring you stick up your lady parts your damn self, there is even a copper T shaped thingy that stays in your vag for 10 freaking years. get over yourself.
either you do it the way everyone else has to do it (with plenty of viable options) or you don't get the unit. it's not both and it's not neither. it's one or the other.
if she calls back again, it's gonna be ronetta vs. bitch, not office employee vs. patient.
it also seems like rape, except there was no touching involved.
i'm a legal drug dealer. i should probably go into great detail about this and blah blah blah, but it's quite simple. i give ladies birth control. it's really that simple.
well, there's more to it, but for the sake of introduction, that's all there is to it (for now).
so i answer my phone, because that's what i do, and i ask how i can help, right? sounds pleasant enough.
immediately, this chick starts spouting off a rant about how her doctor ordered her
stop and check your calendar: it's october. then end of october, lady. so shut the hell up.
...and her current stopper expires in november, and she still doesn't have the new one. then she proceeds to tell me to look it up and she wants to order it now, because this is really unprofessional.
*pause* is it really unprofessional? or is the fact that you did not introduce yourself, your doctor's name, or the nature of your call, at the beginning of the conversation?
me: *deep breath* okay ma'am (and you know what ma'am means), you can't place the order becuase it's a specialty item; the doctor must always place the order on your behalf. so what you're saying is your doctor ordered an actual IUD (not possible, because their office would have it on the shelf, seeing as though it takes 1 business day for them to have it once we ship it) and it is now 5 months later, and they are stating they do not have it, but they have not called us?
her: can you just look me up?!
me: no, i cannot look you up by your name. if you have a case number (hipaa, anyone? hello?) the verification/reimbursement department can see if your doctor ordered a benefits verification, but i can't check that in the distribution department (because we distribute, not verify. clearly).
broad: well someone needs to check this! my IUD expires next month and i need a new one.
me: have you had your benefits verified? is it possible--
douche bag: look, i just need the IUD. how can i get it?
me: *long pause* your doctor has to order it if you have medical insurance. if they do not want to do that, you can pay out of pocket for it, via the specialty pharmacy.
idiot: you know what? i don't even need this! i will just go with another pharmaceutical company who will give it to me! i just want to buy it.
me: okay, bye. *in my nail filing, yawning voice*
now, here's a piece of information: my office is the sole distributor of this contraceptive devise. *stewie griffin voice* that's right, mitch. you can't get it anywhere else but from me. so get over it.
it gets richer here.
me: *answering phone* this is ronetta, how can i help?
same freaking lady: okay, i apologize if i sound a little frustrated, but i have been on the phone for 2 goddamned hours trying to figure this out.
my thoughts, you ask? maybe if you would eat a slice of shut the hell up pie, you would have saved your precious 2 hours and understood the process.
me: ma'am? yeah, it's me again. i can definitely repeat the same thing i told you the last time we spoke, but after you ask me a question, i really need you to
her: okay, okay. i'm just really frustrated and--
me: i get that, ma'am. but you have to listen to the answer so you know what comes next.
her: okay, okay.
me: you need to have your benefits officially verified so that we, as a certified company and the sole distributor, can make that information available to your doctor's office, so that they can proceed with placing the order at your request.
her: but they won't--
me: no ma'am. you need to listen. *pauses, hears her sigh* once they are aware of how much your insurance will cover, they can place the order. get this--they have 90 days to pay for the IUD, which means, they can submit their invoice to your insurance company. your insurance company is contracted to pay whatever we confirmed with them, which means they will send your doctor's office a check for the amount promised. your doctor will then pay for the IUD, and you can pay for the remaining amount through the doctor's office.
her: *whining* but they won't do that! they got burned before and patients wouldn't pay!
me: if we verify that your insurance is paying for it, and you would only owe a very small percentage (more than likely a co-payment) of the IUD, then your doctor's office would not be footing the bill--you would.
her: but they won't--
me: okay, so plan B is that your doctor--yes, they still have to place the order--places the order for you with the specialty pharmacy. they will contact you for pay--
her: they won't order!! they wo--
me: --MENT arrangements, and you will be fiscally responsible for the entire cost of the unit. we will ship the unit to the doctor's office, so they don't have to pay.
her: but if i do that, my insurance will only cover 80%!
me: option C is to go to another physician who will order the unit according to what we and your insurance company are requesting.
her: i don't want to go to another doctor--
me: that's option C, ma'am, meaning you still have options A and B to go through first.
her: so you want me to go to another doctor--
me: ma'am. i want you to calm down and understand that this process is fairly simple, and there are plenty of options.
her: i'm not going to another doctor!
me: *hardest sigh ever*
her: i don't want someone else sticking stuff up my insides! my current doctor knows all of my medical history. i've lost 230 pounds and gotten plastic surgery. i want my doctor to do this procedure! i--
me: plain and simple, then, your doctor has to order the IUD. bottom line, that's it. they have to bill your medical insurance, or you have to pay out of pocket and be reimbursed. that's it, there's no more to it.
her: you know what? fine. this is totally ridiculous.
me: okay, bye.
i'm sorry, but this device is not the only form of kid prevention. there are pills, there are shots, there is the ring you stick up your lady parts your damn self, there is even a copper T shaped thingy that stays in your vag for 10 freaking years. get over yourself.
either you do it the way everyone else has to do it (with plenty of viable options) or you don't get the unit. it's not both and it's not neither. it's one or the other.
if she calls back again, it's gonna be ronetta vs. bitch, not office employee vs. patient.
10.24.2011
41. take a day to pamper myself (etc...)
yesterday, after a great weekend with the infamous jesse, i spent time alone...pampering!
yes!
it was so much fun. i got a manicure/pedicure, did my own hair and facial, and i shaved (this actually happened on saturday). shaving is my absolute least favorite part of female hygiene. i hate shaving. i put it off as long as possible, and by the time i actually crack down to do it, it takes forever. especially if combined with washing my hair and deep conditioning. i hate it.
but i love the outcome. so i guess it's worth it. i should probably just resolve to shave every week (like a lot of normal people i know), but most times i just do not feel like it. and if i resolve to shave every week, i'm sure that there'll be one saturday (probably the first saturday after this resolution begins) that i look at my legs and say, "they're not that bad, i'm just gonna wait until next week." and this will continue, until i look like a woolly mammoth. it never fails.
so i went to holly nails to get my mani/pedi. a place i said i would not go to again because the last time i went, i think i got a plantar's wort on the bottom of my foot. <--not cool. especially because i didn't know that's what it was until jesse noticed i was limping and said, "lemme see it." i was content to keep scrubbing/washing it until it disappeared.
apparently, that's not how it works. so i had to get a dr. scholl's removal kit. cleared it up in 2 days tops. really awesome stuff. sucks that i needed it, but whatevs.
anyway, this time i went, the lady cut me three times. who does that? with the cuticle trimming, she clipped me twice on my left foot. it felt so awesome. during the manicure, she trimmed the cuticle too low to where my thumb bled from a little knick and she had to put ointment on it. lucky for her, my feet felt better and the polish looked amazing. that's what salvaged her tip.
plus, since i've worked in the service industry (i waitressed at ruby tuesday. i was a legend), i just feel horrible if i ever go somewhere and don't leave a tip. hourly does not cut it, because most companies expect you to make "commission" off each customer anyway, also known as tips.
i made $3.08 per hour when i served, and i hardly ever got a paycheck. if i did, it was always under $7 because of the tips i made. let's say i worked a lunch shift (11-3, typically, depending on the flow of business). during a typical lunch rush, i would have 5 tables (a 2 seat, 3-4 seats, and a 5-6 seat table), and if it was an awesome day, all of those tables would be filled. in that 4 hours, i could easily walk out with over $75 in tips, which puts me at about $18.75 per hour, untaxed. that's why i never got a paycheck.
the only thing that sucked bad, was the fact that business was slightly unpredictable, which meant my hours were also unpredictable, along with my cash flow. i could work a double on a saturday and bring home at least $200 in tips that day. monday morning, i may only make $20. it really depended on the day.
luckily i lived with my mom when i worked at ruby's. the only bills i had, then, were car insurance and my cell phone bill. how i long to return to those days. except for the whole not really getting a paycheck part. that part, i don't miss.
i had a great weekend. j and i went to this really cool hotel called aloft near IAD (dulles international airport in dulles/ashburn, va), which is like a subsidiary hotel of the w hotel, aka "costs an arm and a leg to stay there" hotel. in new york, the w averages around $400/night. aloft, however, averages around $60/night. it's very cool, very colorful and modern, and it's constructed like a loft instead of your standard hotel room. i loved it.
we had a huge flat screen tv, a play box (outlets for an ipod, ps3, laptop, etc), a huge bed, a glass shower, and this really cool sink that was all water fountain-y. i absolutely loved it, and since there are so many alofts all over, i'm pretty sure we're never staying anywhere else.
anyway (huge tangent, i don't know where that came from), the pamper day was cool. i didn't get any waxing done (eyebrows/lip) because i didn't need it, and because the little nail salons in the past have always done a craptastic job on my eyebrows anyway. no thanks; i do them myself.
however, when i go to a real spa, i will get the waxing works. brazilian, eyebrow, and lip. oh gosh, how i am dreading the brazilian.
i had one friend tell me it's a humbling experience because your lady parts are up in the air. i had one tell me it's liberating. i had another one tell me it's worth it, and it only takes about 10 or 11 good yanks to finish.
liquor me up.
yes!
it was so much fun. i got a manicure/pedicure, did my own hair and facial, and i shaved (this actually happened on saturday). shaving is my absolute least favorite part of female hygiene. i hate shaving. i put it off as long as possible, and by the time i actually crack down to do it, it takes forever. especially if combined with washing my hair and deep conditioning. i hate it.
but i love the outcome. so i guess it's worth it. i should probably just resolve to shave every week (like a lot of normal people i know), but most times i just do not feel like it. and if i resolve to shave every week, i'm sure that there'll be one saturday (probably the first saturday after this resolution begins) that i look at my legs and say, "they're not that bad, i'm just gonna wait until next week." and this will continue, until i look like a woolly mammoth. it never fails.
so i went to holly nails to get my mani/pedi. a place i said i would not go to again because the last time i went, i think i got a plantar's wort on the bottom of my foot. <--not cool. especially because i didn't know that's what it was until jesse noticed i was limping and said, "lemme see it." i was content to keep scrubbing/washing it until it disappeared.
apparently, that's not how it works. so i had to get a dr. scholl's removal kit. cleared it up in 2 days tops. really awesome stuff. sucks that i needed it, but whatevs.
anyway, this time i went, the lady cut me three times. who does that? with the cuticle trimming, she clipped me twice on my left foot. it felt so awesome. during the manicure, she trimmed the cuticle too low to where my thumb bled from a little knick and she had to put ointment on it. lucky for her, my feet felt better and the polish looked amazing. that's what salvaged her tip.
plus, since i've worked in the service industry (i waitressed at ruby tuesday. i was a legend), i just feel horrible if i ever go somewhere and don't leave a tip. hourly does not cut it, because most companies expect you to make "commission" off each customer anyway, also known as tips.
i made $3.08 per hour when i served, and i hardly ever got a paycheck. if i did, it was always under $7 because of the tips i made. let's say i worked a lunch shift (11-3, typically, depending on the flow of business). during a typical lunch rush, i would have 5 tables (a 2 seat, 3-4 seats, and a 5-6 seat table), and if it was an awesome day, all of those tables would be filled. in that 4 hours, i could easily walk out with over $75 in tips, which puts me at about $18.75 per hour, untaxed. that's why i never got a paycheck.
the only thing that sucked bad, was the fact that business was slightly unpredictable, which meant my hours were also unpredictable, along with my cash flow. i could work a double on a saturday and bring home at least $200 in tips that day. monday morning, i may only make $20. it really depended on the day.
luckily i lived with my mom when i worked at ruby's. the only bills i had, then, were car insurance and my cell phone bill. how i long to return to those days. except for the whole not really getting a paycheck part. that part, i don't miss.
i had a great weekend. j and i went to this really cool hotel called aloft near IAD (dulles international airport in dulles/ashburn, va), which is like a subsidiary hotel of the w hotel, aka "costs an arm and a leg to stay there" hotel. in new york, the w averages around $400/night. aloft, however, averages around $60/night. it's very cool, very colorful and modern, and it's constructed like a loft instead of your standard hotel room. i loved it.
we had a huge flat screen tv, a play box (outlets for an ipod, ps3, laptop, etc), a huge bed, a glass shower, and this really cool sink that was all water fountain-y. i absolutely loved it, and since there are so many alofts all over, i'm pretty sure we're never staying anywhere else.
anyway (huge tangent, i don't know where that came from), the pamper day was cool. i didn't get any waxing done (eyebrows/lip) because i didn't need it, and because the little nail salons in the past have always done a craptastic job on my eyebrows anyway. no thanks; i do them myself.
however, when i go to a real spa, i will get the waxing works. brazilian, eyebrow, and lip. oh gosh, how i am dreading the brazilian.
i had one friend tell me it's a humbling experience because your lady parts are up in the air. i had one tell me it's liberating. i had another one tell me it's worth it, and it only takes about 10 or 11 good yanks to finish.
liquor me up.
10.18.2011
an omitable chapter, because clearly abuse sucks
an omitable chapter in my life definitely has to be when i kinda dated a guy named donnell. i definitely could've gone totally without that ever happening. i gained nothing from it, and it pretty much brought the worst out of me. sucks, but it's true.
okay, okay...i'll go into detail (sheesh, don't have a cow).
let's rewind a bit back to january 2008. no, december 2007.
i returned from spain on december 19, 2007. it was awesome to be back home, driving my car and not working and just being awesome all the time. i missed spain because it was really pretty and cool, but it was nice to be back in the states.
i started talking to an infamous ex-boyfriend (brandon), who i'd been dealing with on and off at that point for about 3 years. in january 2008, i went to my homegirl's 21st birthday party and had a great time. minus the fact that this dude blew my entire life by calling and texting me the whole time.
prior to my drive to the party (i was in annapolis, party was in woodbridge, so it took a solid hour to get there), i told him "i will be at a party tonight, so i will hit you later when i'm free."
i guess that meant "please call me 10 times in 3 hours and send me 20+ text messages, then tell me it's because you were concerned."
c'mon dude. you were not concerned. you were keeping tabs and got in your feelings when i didn't respond.
but i digress.
a few weeks later, i stopped getting calls and texts altogether. fine by me, but with our history, i at least wanted to make sure everything was alright. we'd go through this every so often; all of a sudden he would stop calling/texting/e-mailing/facebooking/communi-cating/breathing and we'd fall off again.
this time was different. this time was because *insert longest drumroll ever here* he got someone pregnant and the baby was here.
*pause* what? are you kidding me?
yes. this guy got someone pregnant in april 2007.
rewind for me again. we went through an on/off stage from march through may 2007. who does that? lucky for me, we did not have sex during that time, or he may have had twins by two differentpissed off women.
so i contact him via facebook--since he blatantly refused to answer any of my other attempts--and he smugly replies that i was only mad because i was on the outside looking in and some other royal bs. royal.
on the outside looking in, doesn't even make sense in that context. i think that's what irritated me the most. because clearly.
i got so mad that i left campus in search of his car. i knew he was at work (which just so happened to be up the street from my last class), but for some reason i just could not find that freaking car. and i guess it was to his benefit, because i was going to key the mess out of it. i had a swiss army knife and i was going to poke the tires. i had a brick and i was going to bust the windows. i was going to make that car look like it had been totalled.
but i just couldn't find it! imagine how much more pissed i was at that point.
i went to the bar and drank. i didn't really give myself an opportunity to cry because i didn't feel he was worth that kind of effort (strange, considering i almost killed his car).
2 weeks later, i'm back at the neighborhood bar (northside richmond, a restaurant called sandy's...i knew the owner) throwing a few back before class. when all of a sudden...
this guy walks in. he sits right next to me, and in typicalronetta "i don't know you so move. thanks, management" behavior, i turn all the way around in my seat, blocking him out of the conversation i was having with my friends (who are also my godsister's husband's family members--another post, another day).
he says, "excuse me, can i grab a napkin?" the napkins distance, for him, would've been reaching across me, so i moved a bit and went back to conversation.
then he gave me a 2-piece combo. "you're so pretty. you're not from around here, are you."
what can i say? i'm a leo...we like positive attention. so without blushing i said thank you and told him that i was from maryland but i went to vcu.
he said he went to morehouse for a few years but ended up coming back home when his dad got sick.
sorry to hear that.
he buys me a few drinks. blah blah blah. i love free stuff. i love stuff i don't have to pay for, so he was at least cool in my book.
we exchanged numbers and i went to class.
yes, i went to class. i guess this is where i should tell you that at that point, yeah, i was somewhat of a professional.
the next day passes, no call. fine by me, too much going on. but the second day, i get a call. he wants to chill.
i know where chilling leads, so i said no. and that it'd be better if he planned something for us to do because i'm busy.
ha. busy. i was kinda busy...i wasn't working but i was waiting for a response on an interview i had the week before. school kept me kinda busy. but not busy enough to not chill. i chilled all the time.
the next day i found out i got the job at the hotel. i started training that weekend and met another cool guy (no, he was actually cool. no sarcasm at all there, i promise) and we hung out a lot.
the cool guy invited me out for drinks (not donnell, because he's not a cool guy), and it just so happened to be one of my friends' birthdays, so we went to buffalo wild wings.
i still remember what i drank that night. 2 vodka & cranberrys, 2 whiskey sours, 4 top shelf long island iced teas, 4 shots of patron (i went shot for shot with someone).
needless to say, i was totally plastered when we left. my friend drove my car, and since i was supposed to be the DD, he had to drop other people off at home before taking me home, and another friend had to follow us so he'd have a ride home.
quite the night, right?
instead of me going to my own house (i lived with my godsister's husband's mother at the time), i call donnell to come pick me up from my house so i could go to his house. this entire time, i was also texting another friend in maryland to come down and chill for the weekend. that never happened. who does that.
that night, i puked all over his bathroom and then fell asleep all over his bed. he had to sleep on the couch.
and that was the first time donnell and i hung out. awesome, right?
the next morning, i woke up totally disoriented as to how i got there, but he was really friendly and asked if i was hungry. he made breakfast and we watched saturday morning cartoons. that's when we started to click a bit. weird, right?
right.
fast forward a few months. in this time period, i'd dealt with being stalked (by one of his exes), having to change my phone number (one i'd had for 3 years), almost having to call the police to come get me out of his house (yeah, he locked me inside and took my car and cell phone), and some very physical altercations.
in any order, i:
punched him in his stomach
slapped him across his face
punched/busted him in his chest
kicked him in his chest
punched him in his throat/neck
punched him in his arm
jacked him in his collar
you know, the funny (not haha, because it's clearly not that kind of funny) part about this, is that i look abusive. it's true, i will admit that. but here are the measurements:
i was 5'9", he was pushing 6'4".
i weighed about 170, he weighed about 225.
i had boobs, he had balls. i never hit him in his balls. that's just wrong.
he had this thing about him--he liked to be in complete control. physically, mentally, emotionally and even sexually. he never forced himself on me, and i think that's really because of his prison stint (any convict who has not committed a crime against a woman or child, would kill another person who committed this crime).
i'm not one who is easily controlled on any of those levels.
he had an attitude problem. he was way too aggressive. he was way too controlling. i have never been locked in someone else's house. ever. that is probably close to the worst feeling ever, especially when you are left with no communication method and no way out. i had to search high and low for the house phone, then charge it, in order to call him on my cell phone.
anytime something became physical, it was because of something he said to me (in an effort to control me) or something he did to me. he would grab me, and i would snatch my arm away, then punch him. it's really awful that he didn't learn from the first time i fought back.
there was never a time where i didn't fight back. i just stuck around because it was what i came to expect from him and i could deal with it.
but my breaking point was probably when he said he wanted to have children and expected for us to be together for a while. how can you even fix your mind to want to be with someone with whom you are constantly in physical altercations? considering the fact that he already had 3 daughters (and i would not want them to see their father's behavior towards me and feel like that's what they should expect from men, generally), while he did have arrangements with their mothers (mmhmm, plural) to take care of them, he was not totally on point with this.
so i slowly backed away. i stopped visiting as much. stopped answering phone calls. told my receptionist to stop patching his calls through and tell him i was in a meeting.
about a month later, i popped up at his house just to say hi and see how he was doing. we talked a bit and came to a common ground about not seeing each other. in my eyes, we were never in a relationship. in his eyes, we were close to being married. that completely shows anyone just how incompatible we were.
a few months later, however, he called me thinking we should start over.
my response: absolutely not. if i have to hit you for us to come to an agreement, it's never going to work.
okay, okay...i'll go into detail (sheesh, don't have a cow).
let's rewind a bit back to january 2008. no, december 2007.
i returned from spain on december 19, 2007. it was awesome to be back home, driving my car and not working and just being awesome all the time. i missed spain because it was really pretty and cool, but it was nice to be back in the states.
i started talking to an infamous ex-boyfriend (brandon), who i'd been dealing with on and off at that point for about 3 years. in january 2008, i went to my homegirl's 21st birthday party and had a great time. minus the fact that this dude blew my entire life by calling and texting me the whole time.
prior to my drive to the party (i was in annapolis, party was in woodbridge, so it took a solid hour to get there), i told him "i will be at a party tonight, so i will hit you later when i'm free."
i guess that meant "please call me 10 times in 3 hours and send me 20+ text messages, then tell me it's because you were concerned."
c'mon dude. you were not concerned. you were keeping tabs and got in your feelings when i didn't respond.
but i digress.
a few weeks later, i stopped getting calls and texts altogether. fine by me, but with our history, i at least wanted to make sure everything was alright. we'd go through this every so often; all of a sudden he would stop calling/texting/e-mailing/facebooking/communi-cating
this time was different. this time was because *insert longest drumroll ever here* he got someone pregnant and the baby was here.
*pause* what? are you kidding me?
yes. this guy got someone pregnant in april 2007.
rewind for me again. we went through an on/off stage from march through may 2007. who does that? lucky for me, we did not have sex during that time, or he may have had twins by two different
so i contact him via facebook--since he blatantly refused to answer any of my other attempts--and he smugly replies that i was only mad because i was on the outside looking in and some other royal bs. royal.
on the outside looking in, doesn't even make sense in that context. i think that's what irritated me the most. because clearly.
i got so mad that i left campus in search of his car. i knew he was at work (which just so happened to be up the street from my last class), but for some reason i just could not find that freaking car. and i guess it was to his benefit, because i was going to key the mess out of it. i had a swiss army knife and i was going to poke the tires. i had a brick and i was going to bust the windows. i was going to make that car look like it had been totalled.
but i just couldn't find it! imagine how much more pissed i was at that point.
i went to the bar and drank. i didn't really give myself an opportunity to cry because i didn't feel he was worth that kind of effort (strange, considering i almost killed his car).
2 weeks later, i'm back at the neighborhood bar (northside richmond, a restaurant called sandy's...i knew the owner) throwing a few back before class. when all of a sudden...
this guy walks in. he sits right next to me, and in typical
he says, "excuse me, can i grab a napkin?" the napkins distance, for him, would've been reaching across me, so i moved a bit and went back to conversation.
then he gave me a 2-piece combo. "you're so pretty. you're not from around here, are you."
what can i say? i'm a leo...we like positive attention. so without blushing i said thank you and told him that i was from maryland but i went to vcu.
he said he went to morehouse for a few years but ended up coming back home when his dad got sick.
sorry to hear that.
he buys me a few drinks. blah blah blah. i love free stuff. i love stuff i don't have to pay for, so he was at least cool in my book.
we exchanged numbers and i went to class.
yes, i went to class. i guess this is where i should tell you that at that point, yeah, i was somewhat of a professional.
the next day passes, no call. fine by me, too much going on. but the second day, i get a call. he wants to chill.
i know where chilling leads, so i said no. and that it'd be better if he planned something for us to do because i'm busy.
ha. busy. i was kinda busy...i wasn't working but i was waiting for a response on an interview i had the week before. school kept me kinda busy. but not busy enough to not chill. i chilled all the time.
the next day i found out i got the job at the hotel. i started training that weekend and met another cool guy (no, he was actually cool. no sarcasm at all there, i promise) and we hung out a lot.
the cool guy invited me out for drinks (not donnell, because he's not a cool guy), and it just so happened to be one of my friends' birthdays, so we went to buffalo wild wings.
i still remember what i drank that night. 2 vodka & cranberrys, 2 whiskey sours, 4 top shelf long island iced teas, 4 shots of patron (i went shot for shot with someone).
needless to say, i was totally plastered when we left. my friend drove my car, and since i was supposed to be the DD, he had to drop other people off at home before taking me home, and another friend had to follow us so he'd have a ride home.
quite the night, right?
instead of me going to my own house (i lived with my godsister's husband's mother at the time), i call donnell to come pick me up from my house so i could go to his house. this entire time, i was also texting another friend in maryland to come down and chill for the weekend. that never happened. who does that.
that night, i puked all over his bathroom and then fell asleep all over his bed. he had to sleep on the couch.
and that was the first time donnell and i hung out. awesome, right?
the next morning, i woke up totally disoriented as to how i got there, but he was really friendly and asked if i was hungry. he made breakfast and we watched saturday morning cartoons. that's when we started to click a bit. weird, right?
right.
fast forward a few months. in this time period, i'd dealt with being stalked (by one of his exes), having to change my phone number (one i'd had for 3 years), almost having to call the police to come get me out of his house (yeah, he locked me inside and took my car and cell phone), and some very physical altercations.
in any order, i:
punched him in his stomach
slapped him across his face
punched/busted him in his chest
kicked him in his chest
punched him in his throat/neck
punched him in his arm
jacked him in his collar
you know, the funny (not haha, because it's clearly not that kind of funny) part about this, is that i look abusive. it's true, i will admit that. but here are the measurements:
i was 5'9", he was pushing 6'4".
i weighed about 170, he weighed about 225.
i had boobs, he had balls. i never hit him in his balls. that's just wrong.
he had this thing about him--he liked to be in complete control. physically, mentally, emotionally and even sexually. he never forced himself on me, and i think that's really because of his prison stint (any convict who has not committed a crime against a woman or child, would kill another person who committed this crime).
i'm not one who is easily controlled on any of those levels.
he had an attitude problem. he was way too aggressive. he was way too controlling. i have never been locked in someone else's house. ever. that is probably close to the worst feeling ever, especially when you are left with no communication method and no way out. i had to search high and low for the house phone, then charge it, in order to call him on my cell phone.
anytime something became physical, it was because of something he said to me (in an effort to control me) or something he did to me. he would grab me, and i would snatch my arm away, then punch him. it's really awful that he didn't learn from the first time i fought back.
there was never a time where i didn't fight back. i just stuck around because it was what i came to expect from him and i could deal with it.
but my breaking point was probably when he said he wanted to have children and expected for us to be together for a while. how can you even fix your mind to want to be with someone with whom you are constantly in physical altercations? considering the fact that he already had 3 daughters (and i would not want them to see their father's behavior towards me and feel like that's what they should expect from men, generally), while he did have arrangements with their mothers (mmhmm, plural) to take care of them, he was not totally on point with this.
so i slowly backed away. i stopped visiting as much. stopped answering phone calls. told my receptionist to stop patching his calls through and tell him i was in a meeting.
about a month later, i popped up at his house just to say hi and see how he was doing. we talked a bit and came to a common ground about not seeing each other. in my eyes, we were never in a relationship. in his eyes, we were close to being married. that completely shows anyone just how incompatible we were.
a few months later, however, he called me thinking we should start over.
my response: absolutely not. if i have to hit you for us to come to an agreement, it's never going to work.
10.17.2011
46. try a new exotic food
okay, so this is probably not exotic, but it's definitely different for me.
this past week, i tried vegetarian food.
i tried this dish called shepherd's pie from a place in DC (of course) called eternal life. i would link it here, but i can't find it online, which scares me. mainly because you all know that everything is so much more official if it's on the internet. the internet is all that is right and good with the world today.
anyway, it was really good. the standard recipe typically has diced potatoes, but the one i had consisted of the mashed version. i think there was some tofu in this one but no mushrooms. i was a little apprehensive at first, probably because i've never had the carnivorous version of shepherd's pie, but this one was really good.
...and if you're backed up, this will totally take care of that issue for you; i promise.
i think that's where the catch 22 comes in, honestly, because i did not enjoy the aftermath of this dish. maybe it was because i spent tne entire weekend chilling on cool porcelain. i'm not opposed to regularity. not at all. but not at the expense of my entire weekend! i didn't even get to go to the gym on sunday, which totally blew me. literally and figuratively.
maybe it's called shepherd's pie because the shepherd killed every animal it herds to make it. but since this dish was vegetarian, i'm probably only slightly inaccurate. just slightly.
i'm hoping i will try something a little more exciting and exotic soon, but after this fiasco, i'm thinking maybe my body is not a fan of exciting and exotic things.
however, this will not stop me from getting a brazilian. nope. it surely won't.
this past week, i tried vegetarian food.
i tried this dish called shepherd's pie from a place in DC (of course) called eternal life. i would link it here, but i can't find it online, which scares me. mainly because you all know that everything is so much more official if it's on the internet. the internet is all that is right and good with the world today.
anyway, it was really good. the standard recipe typically has diced potatoes, but the one i had consisted of the mashed version. i think there was some tofu in this one but no mushrooms. i was a little apprehensive at first, probably because i've never had the carnivorous version of shepherd's pie, but this one was really good.
...and if you're backed up, this will totally take care of that issue for you; i promise.
i think that's where the catch 22 comes in, honestly, because i did not enjoy the aftermath of this dish. maybe it was because i spent tne entire weekend chilling on cool porcelain. i'm not opposed to regularity. not at all. but not at the expense of my entire weekend! i didn't even get to go to the gym on sunday, which totally blew me. literally and figuratively.
maybe it's called shepherd's pie because the shepherd killed every animal it herds to make it. but since this dish was vegetarian, i'm probably only slightly inaccurate. just slightly.
i'm hoping i will try something a little more exciting and exotic soon, but after this fiasco, i'm thinking maybe my body is not a fan of exciting and exotic things.
however, this will not stop me from getting a brazilian. nope. it surely won't.
10.13.2011
open faced pot pie...snot pie?
okay, maybe that doesn't sound so appetizing, but you are going to love this! i know i do.
open faced seemed like snot to me, but it's actually really good, so...this is like a chicken pot pie but it's got stuff your mom wouldn't put in it. and it doesn't have stuff your mom would put in it (i.e. peas and carrots--disgusto).
serves 8
what you'll need:
4 medium chicken breasts or 8 chicken tenderloins, chopped
1.5 cups of broccoli
1.5 cups of cauliflower
2 cups of cheddar/colby/cheddar jack cheese, shredded
1 medium box of bowtie, elbow, or rotini pasta noodles
cook everything first, basically. except the cheese. that would not be good.
chop up all the chicken, fry it in a tablespoon of olive oil until fully cooked, but light brown. add preferred seasonings (salt, pepper, old bay, thyme, etc) to taste.
steam broccoli and cauliflower together on medium-high for about 5 mins (doesn't have to be fully cooked, just doesn't need to be frozen)
boil pasta noodles until completely done. drain. run cold water over them so they're not mushy.
add the chicken, broccoli, cauliflower, and noodles together. mix until they're separated well.
add 1 cup of cheese and mix thoroughly.
pour contents into an oven safe baking dish (spray first with pam or something that won't let your food stick to the pan), and add 1 more cup of cheese to the top of the casserole.
bake for about 20-30 mins on temp 350.
let stand for about 10 mins to cool.
chow down. :)
oh, and enjoy (you better)!
open faced seemed like snot to me, but it's actually really good, so...this is like a chicken pot pie but it's got stuff your mom wouldn't put in it. and it doesn't have stuff your mom would put in it (i.e. peas and carrots--disgusto).
serves 8
what you'll need:
4 medium chicken breasts or 8 chicken tenderloins, chopped
1.5 cups of broccoli
1.5 cups of cauliflower
2 cups of cheddar/colby/cheddar jack cheese, shredded
1 medium box of bowtie, elbow, or rotini pasta noodles
cook everything first, basically. except the cheese. that would not be good.
chop up all the chicken, fry it in a tablespoon of olive oil until fully cooked, but light brown. add preferred seasonings (salt, pepper, old bay, thyme, etc) to taste.
steam broccoli and cauliflower together on medium-high for about 5 mins (doesn't have to be fully cooked, just doesn't need to be frozen)
boil pasta noodles until completely done. drain. run cold water over them so they're not mushy.
add the chicken, broccoli, cauliflower, and noodles together. mix until they're separated well.
add 1 cup of cheese and mix thoroughly.
pour contents into an oven safe baking dish (spray first with pam or something that won't let your food stick to the pan), and add 1 more cup of cheese to the top of the casserole.
bake for about 20-30 mins on temp 350.
let stand for about 10 mins to cool.
chow down. :)
oh, and enjoy (you better)!
10.11.2011
walker is out of order
i guess this is a little more introduction for those of you who don't [quite/yet] know me personally. for those who do, it's more detail.
i go by ronetta cheryll (pronounced sher-ELLE). for those of you who are uber cool and fantastic and think cheryll is my last name, so i must be some mysterious, exotic beauty--hi 5s to you. you're partially correct (lol); but it's my middle name.
i don't use my last name for anything un-tax or un-employment related. not because it isn't a standard last name or i don't like it; but because, i don't know it.
when you get a last name, it's not a choice. it's a surname that your family has, typically superimposed by the patriarch of the family. i have the same last name as ronnie, and ronnie's family, but i'm not what you would call "in relation" to many of them.
i didn't grow up with the walkers. i didn't see my grandparents from age 1 or 2 until age 14. i have an aunt and an uncle. very established, very well off, very busy. too busy for ronetta, in most cases. i have one cousin (uncle's son) who is in his 2nd year of college. i've seen him once in my entire life.
not your typical "related" experience, right? so i've opted out, per se, of using walker as my last name, socially. i'd rather create my own familial experience that involves me and the people who have weathered certain storms with me, than to be labeled as a walker--something i'm not familiar with being.
people who better know the walkers say i get a lot of my personality traits from them. this is really cool, because it's all genetic (if that's the case). however, i don't see how personality (based on experience) can develop from "nature". it develops through nurture, and that portion has a fat question mark by it.
here's how i got my name:
ronetta- a mix of ronnie and annette (my mom's middle name)
it's scandinavian and means "mighty power"
cheryll- derived from cheryl (my mom's first name)
it comes from beryl, which means semi-precious stone
secret: my mom and ronnie, calling themselves "original" initially put an apostrophe (of all things to put in my name, you put an apostrophe? egregious) between the l's in cheryll. now, i have taken the liberty (and decency) of removing that because it's unnecessary. yes, people say "cheryl" or "sher-rill" sometimes, but i correct them and everyone's happy.
i just refuse to use that apostrophe. it gives the spelling way more personality than i need added.
my mom was remarried when i was 5 years old to another guy with a random last name. my mom asked if i wanted to be adopted because my stepdad was willing to adopt me so i could change my last name.
*blank stare*
and take on that last name? i'll deal with my current demons, thank you (lol). although i was never adopted, i still call my stepdad "dad", because he took care of me my entire life. he came to my graduations, he took me to my 8th grade dance...no, no; not because it was cutesy fartsy and father/daughter themed (because it definitely was not), but because i wasn't allowed to go without a chaperone because of those pesky referrals. he came to some of my basketball games; he and my mom actually taught me how to play basketball when i was about 4 years old and i never stopped.
so i like this guy. he's far from perfect, but he was always around. even if he was slightly absent minded.
i didn't legally drop walker because, well, i don't want to spend money on ridding myself of something that never did anything for me. i'd rather prove to all of them that it's their loss that they don't know me well, by keeping the last name. that way one day, when i'm big (on google, of course), they will never be able to get rid of me in their searches.
to clear it up a bit, i do keep in scattered contact with my aunt and my grandfather. my aunt and i fell off a bit, and then ended up finding common ground. she has sense, and i have sense, so why not keep in touch, right? pretty cool lady. i also keep up with my grandfather. he's retired, has a boat, and likes to fish and garden. really cool guy, very down to earth.
i do wish i could've spent more time getting to know that side of my family, but ronnie's plight made it extremely difficult. not to mention, he helped matters so much by defaming me as i got older, to my now deceased grandmother, who never confirmed any information with me, but trusted that he (read: convict) was telling the absolute truth. i don't blame her and i'm not mad at her. i pray she rests peacefully. i just wish that i was given a chance. i was just a kid when all this was happening.
needless to say, i grew up quickly. fantasy and imagination weren't things i had or experienced--i was expected to understand and learn, quickly. what 9 year old has mood swings because of home stress and school pressure? *raises hand*
i remember writing in my journal, and the entries always being extremely vivid concerning what someone looked like (prettier than me or better than me) or how they treated me (badly). when i'd write, i'd imagine that i was married to the perfect man and had 3 perfect kids (2 boys and 1 girl). their names would be perfect. my house, perfect. my 4 rottweilers, perfect. the land surrounding my house, perfect.
...because things were just not that great.
i go by ronetta cheryll (pronounced sher-ELLE). for those of you who are uber cool and fantastic and think cheryll is my last name, so i must be some mysterious, exotic beauty--hi 5s to you. you're partially correct (lol); but it's my middle name.
i don't use my last name for anything un-tax or un-employment related. not because it isn't a standard last name or i don't like it; but because, i don't know it.
when you get a last name, it's not a choice. it's a surname that your family has, typically superimposed by the patriarch of the family. i have the same last name as ronnie, and ronnie's family, but i'm not what you would call "in relation" to many of them.
i didn't grow up with the walkers. i didn't see my grandparents from age 1 or 2 until age 14. i have an aunt and an uncle. very established, very well off, very busy. too busy for ronetta, in most cases. i have one cousin (uncle's son) who is in his 2nd year of college. i've seen him once in my entire life.
not your typical "related" experience, right? so i've opted out, per se, of using walker as my last name, socially. i'd rather create my own familial experience that involves me and the people who have weathered certain storms with me, than to be labeled as a walker--something i'm not familiar with being.
people who better know the walkers say i get a lot of my personality traits from them. this is really cool, because it's all genetic (if that's the case). however, i don't see how personality (based on experience) can develop from "nature". it develops through nurture, and that portion has a fat question mark by it.
here's how i got my name:
ronetta- a mix of ronnie and annette (my mom's middle name)
it's scandinavian and means "mighty power"
cheryll- derived from cheryl (my mom's first name)
it comes from beryl, which means semi-precious stone
secret: my mom and ronnie, calling themselves "original" initially put an apostrophe (of all things to put in my name, you put an apostrophe? egregious) between the l's in cheryll. now, i have taken the liberty (and decency) of removing that because it's unnecessary. yes, people say "cheryl" or "sher-rill" sometimes, but i correct them and everyone's happy.
i just refuse to use that apostrophe. it gives the spelling way more personality than i need added.
my mom was remarried when i was 5 years old to another guy with a random last name. my mom asked if i wanted to be adopted because my stepdad was willing to adopt me so i could change my last name.
*blank stare*
and take on that last name? i'll deal with my current demons, thank you (lol). although i was never adopted, i still call my stepdad "dad", because he took care of me my entire life. he came to my graduations, he took me to my 8th grade dance...no, no; not because it was cutesy fartsy and father/daughter themed (because it definitely was not), but because i wasn't allowed to go without a chaperone because of those pesky referrals. he came to some of my basketball games; he and my mom actually taught me how to play basketball when i was about 4 years old and i never stopped.
so i like this guy. he's far from perfect, but he was always around. even if he was slightly absent minded.
i didn't legally drop walker because, well, i don't want to spend money on ridding myself of something that never did anything for me. i'd rather prove to all of them that it's their loss that they don't know me well, by keeping the last name. that way one day, when i'm big (on google, of course), they will never be able to get rid of me in their searches.
to clear it up a bit, i do keep in scattered contact with my aunt and my grandfather. my aunt and i fell off a bit, and then ended up finding common ground. she has sense, and i have sense, so why not keep in touch, right? pretty cool lady. i also keep up with my grandfather. he's retired, has a boat, and likes to fish and garden. really cool guy, very down to earth.
i do wish i could've spent more time getting to know that side of my family, but ronnie's plight made it extremely difficult. not to mention, he helped matters so much by defaming me as i got older, to my now deceased grandmother, who never confirmed any information with me, but trusted that he (read: convict) was telling the absolute truth. i don't blame her and i'm not mad at her. i pray she rests peacefully. i just wish that i was given a chance. i was just a kid when all this was happening.
needless to say, i grew up quickly. fantasy and imagination weren't things i had or experienced--i was expected to understand and learn, quickly. what 9 year old has mood swings because of home stress and school pressure? *raises hand*
i remember writing in my journal, and the entries always being extremely vivid concerning what someone looked like (prettier than me or better than me) or how they treated me (badly). when i'd write, i'd imagine that i was married to the perfect man and had 3 perfect kids (2 boys and 1 girl). their names would be perfect. my house, perfect. my 4 rottweilers, perfect. the land surrounding my house, perfect.
...because things were just not that great.
10.10.2011
i said i was gonna do it...
...i said i was gonna write about the reasoning behind the estrangement between me and the evasive ronnie, so let's see what i can come up with today.
so we all know (if we don't, welcome!) that he was incarcerated from about january 1987 until roughly may 2009. i don't know exact dates because i can't keep up withthat shit dates that well.
from what i remember, he was released in 1994 in late april. this release was short lived, mainly because when you take someone who is programmed to do the wrong things, it's only a matter of time before they do (what?) the wrong things. again.
he was apprehended a day before my 8th birthday. i didn't find this out until i was much older, and for a good reason. because clearly.
he stayed in for 15 years after that. if that's not missing your only child's childhood, i have no idea what is.
upon his release, i planned to drive to harrisburg to visit him and maybe spend some time with him. at this point, i was pretty open to getting to know him and making an effort towardsbridging this huge gap creating a relationship from scratch with him. he seemed pretty open to it as well.
i drive to harrisburg, and instead of us just spending what i consider "normal" time together, like having lunch or sight seeing, he wants to go to walmart. i'm like okay, well he probably needs food and there were no walmarts when he wasa real citizen an adolescent/young adult, so he might be intrigued.
we go to walmart. we spend approximately 2 hours in walmart going up and down each aisle and picking out random crap. when it was time to check out, he had some money, but he was short about $50 bucks. guess who got the honor of footing the remainder of the bill? me. it was fannnnn *wait for it* tastic! spending $50 on things i will never eat for a person i have no relationship with, who i just drove over 200 miles to see is something i always want to do with my free time. especially on independence day weekend. that always feels so good.
i shrugged it off and paid the $50 bucks so he could have all of hisunnecessary food. i guess he didn't consider the fact that he lived in a rehab home as part of his parole contract, and would be sharing a small refrigerator with other people, as his things took up most of the space in the fridge, and he *boop* didn't know how to cook any of it.
once that was done, i had to leave, because he had a curfew. a really early curfew, because he was a newbie. so it was a pretty pointless visit. i went back to my hometown and partied with my cousins.
the fall comes and so my mom and i decide to go for a visit because there's some kind of parade going on in harrisburg, and that's way better than going to walmart for 2 hours. at this point, homeboy's got a job, so he took us to ruby tuesday for lunch. then we went to the river (where the parade was happening) and walked and talked.
i hate to sound mean, but this kind of thing is something that should've been done when i was about 5. not eleventy-two (read: 23). at any rate, it was a nice day.
a couple months pass and he starts to become the awesome person he is today.
okay, so i started dating this guy, right? i lived in richmond (va), we met through mutual friends (via work), and at the time he was living in columbia (sc), but he was preparing to move to charlotte (nc) a few weeks later, putting us at 4 hours apart. not horrible, but not a trip you make every weekend, either.
so i went down a few times just to getthe hell away from richmond. and i had a great time. lo and behold, ronnie asks me to come visit again.
my first reaction was, why don't you take a bus down to visit me instead, and you can stay at my apartment? it's senseless for me to drive 200+ miles to visit you for 2 hours since you have a curfew, and then i'd have to turn right back around and drive to stay at my mom's house (in annapolis) for the night, before making the 2+ hour trip back to richmond. just kinda pointless to me.
and the guy i was dating had this really nice, really comfortable condo in a quiet neighborhood, and all i had to do was show up and he'd take care of the rest of the weekend. that sounds a lot more promising to me, than spending most of my weekend in a car.
so i told him i had plans to go to nc that weekend, and this guy flips all the way out, says i'm boy crazy (mind you i am 23 and the columbia/charlotte guy was 25), and that i'm selfish.
*brakes screech* i think selfish is expecting me to drive 5 hours to pay for $50 of your groceries again.
i think selfish is when you don't offer gas money or to travel down to see me, since i've made the trip to see you twice already.
i think selfish is expecting anything from me, when you've done nothing.
no, i think that is a sense of entitlement--something i don't now, nor have i ever, tolerated.
needless to say i didn't go visit. he had an attitude about that for about 6 months (additional time wasted).
jesse convinced me to go visit, so we went together. it was a fun time. this time, ronnie paid for lunch. *shocked face*
we really only had time to eat lunch and talk a while before we had to leave. at this point, he'd moved to his own room at a boarding house, so there was no curfew.
but there was also no space, so there was no way we could stay if we tried.
the rest of 2010 was spent arguing. i gave up for what i thought would be the last time in april of that year.
boy was i wrong.
i get a happy birthday text on my 24th birthay, after telling him to lose my number. guess old habits die hard. i deleted the text, but jesse convinced me to contact him because maybe he was extending an olive branch.
things lightened up a bit for a few months. and then bam, back to the attitudes and the arguing.
back to thebull shit you know what, yes bull shit. that's what it was back to.
i tried again to smooth things over by visiting him in that awful place i told you about in my 100 boring things...you know, that place where i was born? yeah, that god-forsaken place. so boring. *yawns just thinking about it*
jesse and i traveled north, yet again, from richmond, for one birthday dinner. that weekend i was a bit under the weather, i had to sing in a concert in my hometown, and i was between paychecks. you know what that means. that awesome point in your week where you are so stoked to find a dollar under the seat of your car. yeah, that point.
i wear a sundress and sandals, do my hair, and go. we take pictures. i was in a good mood, but my sarcasm shined through marvelously. luckily, people laughed; typically, they stare. i'm fine either way, as long as i laugh.
we head over to my cousin's restaurant and have dinner (at this point, i'm celebrating me, so i get a hennessee on the rocks). he doesn't pay; my cousin comps the bill, although i offered to pay for it (my cousin wouldn't let me). fine, right? great freaking day.
my 25th birthday rounds the bend. as far as i know, i've had the same birthday since, well, birth. july 30. it never surprises me (though the age does, every year without fail), so i don't see how a date that comes around every single year, surprises anyone.
it's whack. i created an event on facebook and invited a bunch of people, but left the event open so that anyone who wanted to come, could come. he sends me an e-mail about a week later that said yeah so i'm not gonna be able to come to your little birthday thing.
*blank stare* awesome. because it would suck if you could.
he said something about having to work that weekend and that he'd taken off too many weekends before, blah blah blah. but really? he could've taken off work if he wanted to take off work. it's not like he is a freaking CEO of anything but poop.
he works as a steward at a hotel. a steward, you ask? someone who does all the dirty work no one else on payroll wants to do. a chef doesn't take out garbage, clean floors, wash dishes, does he? no, that's what the hotel pays a steward to do. but let ronnie tell it, he is a multitasker.
*pause* when did they start hiring for those?
i forgot to mention he has a crum-snatcher girlfriend who he spends most of his time with. she is 4 years older than me and doesn't have a high school diploma. as you can see, he is fully of the classy. she lives with her mother, doesn't know her father (hmm, maybe we do have something in common), and doesn't have a job. she was fired from her job and because she has no real skills or education, no one else will hire her.
i'm pretty sure they're a match made in heaven.
so cheers to you, anal fissure. you officially, royally, and completely suck.
so we all know (if we don't, welcome!) that he was incarcerated from about january 1987 until roughly may 2009. i don't know exact dates because i can't keep up with
from what i remember, he was released in 1994 in late april. this release was short lived, mainly because when you take someone who is programmed to do the wrong things, it's only a matter of time before they do (what?) the wrong things. again.
he was apprehended a day before my 8th birthday. i didn't find this out until i was much older, and for a good reason. because clearly.
he stayed in for 15 years after that. if that's not missing your only child's childhood, i have no idea what is.
upon his release, i planned to drive to harrisburg to visit him and maybe spend some time with him. at this point, i was pretty open to getting to know him and making an effort towards
i drive to harrisburg, and instead of us just spending what i consider "normal" time together, like having lunch or sight seeing, he wants to go to walmart. i'm like okay, well he probably needs food and there were no walmarts when he was
we go to walmart. we spend approximately 2 hours in walmart going up and down each aisle and picking out random crap. when it was time to check out, he had some money, but he was short about $50 bucks. guess who got the honor of footing the remainder of the bill? me. it was fannnnn *wait for it* tastic! spending $50 on things i will never eat for a person i have no relationship with, who i just drove over 200 miles to see is something i always want to do with my free time. especially on independence day weekend. that always feels so good.
i shrugged it off and paid the $50 bucks so he could have all of his
once that was done, i had to leave, because he had a curfew. a really early curfew, because he was a newbie. so it was a pretty pointless visit. i went back to my hometown and partied with my cousins.
the fall comes and so my mom and i decide to go for a visit because there's some kind of parade going on in harrisburg, and that's way better than going to walmart for 2 hours. at this point, homeboy's got a job, so he took us to ruby tuesday for lunch. then we went to the river (where the parade was happening) and walked and talked.
i hate to sound mean, but this kind of thing is something that should've been done when i was about 5. not eleventy-two (read: 23). at any rate, it was a nice day.
a couple months pass and he starts to become the awesome person he is today.
okay, so i started dating this guy, right? i lived in richmond (va), we met through mutual friends (via work), and at the time he was living in columbia (sc), but he was preparing to move to charlotte (nc) a few weeks later, putting us at 4 hours apart. not horrible, but not a trip you make every weekend, either.
so i went down a few times just to get
my first reaction was, why don't you take a bus down to visit me instead, and you can stay at my apartment? it's senseless for me to drive 200+ miles to visit you for 2 hours since you have a curfew, and then i'd have to turn right back around and drive to stay at my mom's house (in annapolis) for the night, before making the 2+ hour trip back to richmond. just kinda pointless to me.
and the guy i was dating had this really nice, really comfortable condo in a quiet neighborhood, and all i had to do was show up and he'd take care of the rest of the weekend. that sounds a lot more promising to me, than spending most of my weekend in a car.
so i told him i had plans to go to nc that weekend, and this guy flips all the way out, says i'm boy crazy (mind you i am 23 and the columbia/charlotte guy was 25), and that i'm selfish.
*brakes screech* i think selfish is expecting me to drive 5 hours to pay for $50 of your groceries again.
i think selfish is when you don't offer gas money or to travel down to see me, since i've made the trip to see you twice already.
i think selfish is expecting anything from me, when you've done nothing.
no, i think that is a sense of entitlement--something i don't now, nor have i ever, tolerated.
needless to say i didn't go visit. he had an attitude about that for about 6 months (additional time wasted).
jesse convinced me to go visit, so we went together. it was a fun time. this time, ronnie paid for lunch. *shocked face*
we really only had time to eat lunch and talk a while before we had to leave. at this point, he'd moved to his own room at a boarding house, so there was no curfew.
but there was also no space, so there was no way we could stay if we tried.
the rest of 2010 was spent arguing. i gave up for what i thought would be the last time in april of that year.
boy was i wrong.
i get a happy birthday text on my 24th birthay, after telling him to lose my number. guess old habits die hard. i deleted the text, but jesse convinced me to contact him because maybe he was extending an olive branch.
things lightened up a bit for a few months. and then bam, back to the attitudes and the arguing.
back to the
i tried again to smooth things over by visiting him in that awful place i told you about in my 100 boring things...you know, that place where i was born? yeah, that god-forsaken place. so boring. *yawns just thinking about it*
jesse and i traveled north, yet again, from richmond, for one birthday dinner. that weekend i was a bit under the weather, i had to sing in a concert in my hometown, and i was between paychecks. you know what that means. that awesome point in your week where you are so stoked to find a dollar under the seat of your car. yeah, that point.
i wear a sundress and sandals, do my hair, and go. we take pictures. i was in a good mood, but my sarcasm shined through marvelously. luckily, people laughed; typically, they stare. i'm fine either way, as long as i laugh.
we head over to my cousin's restaurant and have dinner (at this point, i'm celebrating me, so i get a hennessee on the rocks). he doesn't pay; my cousin comps the bill, although i offered to pay for it (my cousin wouldn't let me). fine, right? great freaking day.
my 25th birthday rounds the bend. as far as i know, i've had the same birthday since, well, birth. july 30. it never surprises me (though the age does, every year without fail), so i don't see how a date that comes around every single year, surprises anyone.
it's whack. i created an event on facebook and invited a bunch of people, but left the event open so that anyone who wanted to come, could come. he sends me an e-mail about a week later that said yeah so i'm not gonna be able to come to your little birthday thing.
*blank stare* awesome. because it would suck if you could.
he said something about having to work that weekend and that he'd taken off too many weekends before, blah blah blah. but really? he could've taken off work if he wanted to take off work. it's not like he is a freaking CEO of anything but poop.
he works as a steward at a hotel. a steward, you ask? someone who does all the dirty work no one else on payroll wants to do. a chef doesn't take out garbage, clean floors, wash dishes, does he? no, that's what the hotel pays a steward to do. but let ronnie tell it, he is a multitasker.
*pause* when did they start hiring for those?
i forgot to mention he has a crum-snatcher girlfriend who he spends most of his time with. she is 4 years older than me and doesn't have a high school diploma. as you can see, he is fully of the classy. she lives with her mother, doesn't know her father (hmm, maybe we do have something in common), and doesn't have a job. she was fired from her job and because she has no real skills or education, no one else will hire her.
i'm pretty sure they're a match made in heaven.
so cheers to you, anal fissure. you officially, royally, and completely suck.
38. consider getting lasik eye surgery
this weekend was a doozy for my eyes. a doozy, okay? it was awful.
i seriously considered getting lasik eye surgery for the first time in my life.
now, i talk a good game when i'm irritated with something (read: lack of eye sight), but usually it fizzles out within one or two days.
this time *blank stare* no, i am really considering lasik.
how about i totally forgot i had to have my pupils dilated at my eye exam on saturday? now, the last time this happened was about 2 years ago and i felt like i had my eyes wide open but i was blind. very much so an oxymoronical situation, very much so unappreciated. i had to have my homie claire drive me home and had to be hand walked into my apartment. i almost fell twice--once out of her lift kit jeep, and we all know i am a klutz, and once into my doorway.
this time, chelsea had to pick me up from the optometrist. i love my sister, but she is a newbie driver. she was my only early morning option, and she is always biting at the chance to drive someone somewhere.
i've let her use my car before and i've rode in the car when she drives, but not being able to see properly puts an entirely different spin on the experience.
i'm sure she wanted to eject me from the car.
the drive from the eye doctor to my house is approximately 5-7 mins. apparently, that is long enough for me to have a heart attack, stroke, and panic attack. really ridiculous.
so it all started off with me being reassessed for contacts, just because i was on a trial basis with them for the past 2 weeks. i ordered 2 pairs of glasses and a box of contacts. my eyes get dry quickly and when they're tired of the contacts, i would still like sight.
then, the doctor puts these drops in my eyes and says, "follow me." i felt like i was being led to a white, window-less van. i could see nothing and he was walking too fast! i had to stop and hold onto the wall. it was then, i thought he's drugged me. those drops were to blind me and he's going to drag me off in a white, window-less van and have his way with me...
then miraculously, i was seated at a consultation desk.
so much for my auto-biography, right? *sigh*
but i digress.
my eyes feel worse and worse for about 30 mins, then the doctor drags me back into the exam room and makes me look all over the place and says "everything's fine."
*pause*
clearly it isn't sir, because i feel like a vampire. the lights were way too bright. it was like a case of a hangover + sleeping in a coffin for 5 days + migraine + agoraphobia.
after they took my money for my sight, i went outside and put these ridiculous sunglasses on my face. definitely looked like an old woman with cataracts. not a good look for a hot 25 year old.
when i was making my way to the exit door, chelsea pulled up to the entrance, as if she was going to give me valet service. but no! alas, she drove away from me, to the parking lot, parks, and proceeds to laugh at me. it was no discreet effort, let me tell you.
i feel around by way of dirt, ditch, and tree to get to my car, and when i open the door, she is still laughing. annoyed at this point, i flail my arms around for emphasis, which makes her laugh harder.
*sigh*
on the way home, there are stop signs, stop lights, yields, no turns on red, left turn only, speed traps, picture-taking lights...you name it, we encountered it. thankfully, she did everything legally, minus the fact that i almost died.
when your pupils are dilated everything is bright and blurry--2 things you do not need in your life when in a car. every other direction we took was accompanied by a stop! or a slow the hell down, chelsea; i can't see! it was awesome.
we got home and my armpits were soaked. i needed a drink, she needed a tissue from crying laughing.
and this is when i decided i would see about lasik eye surgery. i'm not doing that again!
i seriously considered getting lasik eye surgery for the first time in my life.
now, i talk a good game when i'm irritated with something (read: lack of eye sight), but usually it fizzles out within one or two days.
this time *blank stare* no, i am really considering lasik.
how about i totally forgot i had to have my pupils dilated at my eye exam on saturday? now, the last time this happened was about 2 years ago and i felt like i had my eyes wide open but i was blind. very much so an oxymoronical situation, very much so unappreciated. i had to have my homie claire drive me home and had to be hand walked into my apartment. i almost fell twice--once out of her lift kit jeep, and we all know i am a klutz, and once into my doorway.
this time, chelsea had to pick me up from the optometrist. i love my sister, but she is a newbie driver. she was my only early morning option, and she is always biting at the chance to drive someone somewhere.
i've let her use my car before and i've rode in the car when she drives, but not being able to see properly puts an entirely different spin on the experience.
i'm sure she wanted to eject me from the car.
the drive from the eye doctor to my house is approximately 5-7 mins. apparently, that is long enough for me to have a heart attack, stroke, and panic attack. really ridiculous.
so it all started off with me being reassessed for contacts, just because i was on a trial basis with them for the past 2 weeks. i ordered 2 pairs of glasses and a box of contacts. my eyes get dry quickly and when they're tired of the contacts, i would still like sight.
then, the doctor puts these drops in my eyes and says, "follow me." i felt like i was being led to a white, window-less van. i could see nothing and he was walking too fast! i had to stop and hold onto the wall. it was then, i thought he's drugged me. those drops were to blind me and he's going to drag me off in a white, window-less van and have his way with me...
then miraculously, i was seated at a consultation desk.
so much for my auto-biography, right? *sigh*
but i digress.
my eyes feel worse and worse for about 30 mins, then the doctor drags me back into the exam room and makes me look all over the place and says "everything's fine."
*pause*
clearly it isn't sir, because i feel like a vampire. the lights were way too bright. it was like a case of a hangover + sleeping in a coffin for 5 days + migraine + agoraphobia.
after they took my money for my sight, i went outside and put these ridiculous sunglasses on my face. definitely looked like an old woman with cataracts. not a good look for a hot 25 year old.
when i was making my way to the exit door, chelsea pulled up to the entrance, as if she was going to give me valet service. but no! alas, she drove away from me, to the parking lot, parks, and proceeds to laugh at me. it was no discreet effort, let me tell you.
i feel around by way of dirt, ditch, and tree to get to my car, and when i open the door, she is still laughing. annoyed at this point, i flail my arms around for emphasis, which makes her laugh harder.
*sigh*
on the way home, there are stop signs, stop lights, yields, no turns on red, left turn only, speed traps, picture-taking lights...you name it, we encountered it. thankfully, she did everything legally, minus the fact that i almost died.
when your pupils are dilated everything is bright and blurry--2 things you do not need in your life when in a car. every other direction we took was accompanied by a stop! or a slow the hell down, chelsea; i can't see! it was awesome.
we got home and my armpits were soaked. i needed a drink, she needed a tissue from crying laughing.
and this is when i decided i would see about lasik eye surgery. i'm not doing that again!
10.03.2011
51. don't use "lol" for an entire week
i accomplished this! yes. it was so hard challenging for me at first, and i even had to delete some sentences because they seemed so harsh without my beloved "lol" but i made it through.
monday-tuesday were probably the hardest days, mainly because it seemed like i was not doing the funny things justice without using "lol"...the funny things seemed really mundane and boring when typed, and so i had to find other ways to express how humorous a situation was. some of my favorite lines were:
i am really struggling not to use an acronym right now.
this is definitely "laughing my a** off" worthy.
#dead
*flatlines*
and my all-time favorite:
okay, that just took me out of here.
i had to be extra creative to get an "lol" point across without seeming corny i struggled with this, too or crass it didn't always work out.
wednesday morning, looking back, was probably the most ironic of all. i *ahem* got into somewhat of an argument with the infamous ronnie (my biological father).
now, for those of you who know this story/saga/mess, you understand why this is really nothing new. but for you new buddies (welcome!), i'm going to rewind a bit.
skip all the way past my childhood, because that isn't what this is about (long story short, he was incarcerated from when i was 5 months old until i was almost 23 years old). let's get right to the nitty gritty. since his release in may or something of 2009, he has been a like an upper respiratory infection in my life. not serious enough to kill me, but definitely annoying for a few days here and there throughout the year. and if you're anything like me, you get these about once every season or quarterly. oh, and if i don't see a doctor (typically my mom, in the case of ronnie), things get that much worse because the irritation festers.
on tuesday evening, he e-mailed me offering to give me a cd/radio console for my car. now, keep in mind my car is less than 5 years old and everything in it is directly from the manufacturer, including the sound system (which comes with an ipod/mp3 player plug-in and a cd deck). a big bank still technically owns my car since i still make monthly payments, so i'm not trying to do anything too permanent to the car before it is totally all mine--which would, even then, only include speaker enhancement and maybe a slight tint on the windows--just in case i trade my car in next year for a new one.
it took me a few hours to decide i wasn't going to take something from him, just because he offered and it's free. i flat out didn't need the unit and wouldn't use it, so the next morning, at the crack of dawn, i replied with my answer.
after replying, i checked facebook. now, the previous day i'd told him to stop poking me (gross, right?). this had to have been about the eleventy-ninth time i've asked him to stop. not to mention i've ignored him and he's still done it. i've also put him on limited profile where he was unable to poke me.
then facebook changed the privacy settings and i started getting poked again.
*pause*
*taps foot*
so i got agitated. this is one of the many examples of this guy not respecting my wishes, not listening, not understanding. so i told him "enough with the poking, okay? who pokes?! sheesh... :)" now, this was during my "don't use lol" week, so i couldn't use it to lighten the load. while i was dead serious, i meant no harm...i just wanted him toback off listen and understand.
instead, i get asmart ass reply that said "i don't know, there's a lot of don't do this and don't do that, but you can't even answer a question. a simple yes or no would've sufficed, but anyway, how are you?" now, i rephrased so that it sounds coherent, but this same message was typed with a lot of internet lingo and southern slang. so much, that the sentences were almost unrecognizable.
this is when i lit him up. i went back to the e-mail and asked that he check time stamps before he opens his mouth about someone not replying.
needless to say, i haven't received a reply, which is probably for the best, since i have a really tough time holding my tongue with this guy.
i may even post an entry about the estrangement stuff later, because i need to get a lot off my chest and i just flat outhate don't like this guy at all. there are no appealing or redeeming qualities whatsoever that make me feel any differently. *shrugs*
but i digress.
that was my only adverse event in my quest to not use "lol" for an entire week. mostly everyone else didn't notice or just didn't mention it. i had a lot of fun with it...i think.
for humor's sake: lol.
have you ever tried to stop using some of the humorous acronyms? what were your tragedies and triumphs? do you have any hilarious stories from moments where you had to catch yourself before using it?
i make it sound like drugs.
monday-tuesday were probably the hardest days, mainly because it seemed like i was not doing the funny things justice without using "lol"...the funny things seemed really mundane and boring when typed, and so i had to find other ways to express how humorous a situation was. some of my favorite lines were:
i am really struggling not to use an acronym right now.
this is definitely "laughing my a** off" worthy.
#dead
*flatlines*
and my all-time favorite:
okay, that just took me out of here.
i had to be extra creative to get an "lol" point across without seeming corny i struggled with this, too or crass it didn't always work out.
wednesday morning, looking back, was probably the most ironic of all. i *ahem* got into somewhat of an argument with the infamous ronnie (my biological father).
now, for those of you who know this story/saga/mess, you understand why this is really nothing new. but for you new buddies (welcome!), i'm going to rewind a bit.
skip all the way past my childhood, because that isn't what this is about (long story short, he was incarcerated from when i was 5 months old until i was almost 23 years old). let's get right to the nitty gritty. since his release in may or something of 2009, he has been a like an upper respiratory infection in my life. not serious enough to kill me, but definitely annoying for a few days here and there throughout the year. and if you're anything like me, you get these about once every season or quarterly. oh, and if i don't see a doctor (typically my mom, in the case of ronnie), things get that much worse because the irritation festers.
on tuesday evening, he e-mailed me offering to give me a cd/radio console for my car. now, keep in mind my car is less than 5 years old and everything in it is directly from the manufacturer, including the sound system (which comes with an ipod/mp3 player plug-in and a cd deck). a big bank still technically owns my car since i still make monthly payments, so i'm not trying to do anything too permanent to the car before it is totally all mine--which would, even then, only include speaker enhancement and maybe a slight tint on the windows--just in case i trade my car in next year for a new one.
it took me a few hours to decide i wasn't going to take something from him, just because he offered and it's free. i flat out didn't need the unit and wouldn't use it, so the next morning, at the crack of dawn, i replied with my answer.
after replying, i checked facebook. now, the previous day i'd told him to stop poking me (gross, right?). this had to have been about the eleventy-ninth time i've asked him to stop. not to mention i've ignored him and he's still done it. i've also put him on limited profile where he was unable to poke me.
then facebook changed the privacy settings and i started getting poked again.
*pause*
*taps foot*
so i got agitated. this is one of the many examples of this guy not respecting my wishes, not listening, not understanding. so i told him "enough with the poking, okay? who pokes?! sheesh... :)" now, this was during my "don't use lol" week, so i couldn't use it to lighten the load. while i was dead serious, i meant no harm...i just wanted him to
instead, i get a
this is when i lit him up. i went back to the e-mail and asked that he check time stamps before he opens his mouth about someone not replying.
needless to say, i haven't received a reply, which is probably for the best, since i have a really tough time holding my tongue with this guy.
i may even post an entry about the estrangement stuff later, because i need to get a lot off my chest and i just flat out
but i digress.
that was my only adverse event in my quest to not use "lol" for an entire week. mostly everyone else didn't notice or just didn't mention it. i had a lot of fun with it...i think.
for humor's sake: lol.
have you ever tried to stop using some of the humorous acronyms? what were your tragedies and triumphs? do you have any hilarious stories from moments where you had to catch yourself before using it?
i make it sound like drugs.
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