I miss my bestie

I realize that I am in love with my best friend but my best friend is in a relationship with someone else. I've succumbed to our cycle and find it hard too break from it. Forbidden love can be so addictive, yet is it worth it? I know my emotions make me weak but he is my strength and the sunny ray among the clouds of dreariness.

*deep sigh*
I have issues...

Relaxers or Hair killers?

So today, I am going to touch on a touchy little subject that is dear to many women's hearts-a relaxer.I wonder how many women who actually relax their hair actually know what is inside their little home kit or professional tub of relaxer? Across the board, there is one primary ingredient in all relaxers, and that is lye. Lye is sodium hydroxide(chemical formula NaOH) and this product is substituted in no-lye relaxers by Potassium or Calcium Hydroxide(KOH and CaOH respectively). Lye is known to be caustic and is used in many cleaning products.

Shopping urges

Since getting my Scotia Visa debit card, I'm facing a hippy/preppy/goth/emo/vintage chick's worst nightmare... Where the hell to shop and where am I gonna get that cash from? And when I do get that cash, I have to consider if I have anything else to spend it on.

But I want pretty clothes! I want the flowy skirts, corset dresses, throwback 40s and 50s outfits, fascinators and the like. I want the cute makeup, nice nail polish colours, sexy hair... Speaking of hair I want shea butter, curlformers and a damn good flat iron.

After all those thoughts, I realize I may be a fledgling shopper-holic. I need help.

Wrapping up your organs.

Recently, and I do mean recently, I came across a Lady Gaga quote that says, “Women need to protect themselves. You put that condom in your purse and save your own fucking life.” Such a lovely little quote isn't it? I'm tired of women hollering and bitching about men giving them babies and even worse, diseases because they didn't wrap it up. I mean the reasoning is simple:

- I shall assume that we all have sex organs*checks panties, yep*

- By virtue of us inviting a male's penis to penetrate us for a few seconds, minutes or even hours, we thereby become a willing participant( hereby excluding victims of rape and D.V.)

-As willing participants we share 50% of the blame in the outcome and as such cannot solely blame the male for whatever may have gone wrong.

-To go back to the first point, since our organs are on our bodies, we need to ensure that our bodies are our first priority. Combined with the third point we must accept responsibility for our downfalls when it affects-yep, you guessed it- our bodies.

-Heterosexual women, married heterosexual women, young women under 25, black heterosexual women-shoot heterosexual women of all varieties are the leading victims of AIDS/HIV and a host of other diseases. Also, don't leave babies out the equation.

-Long and short, if you have the cognitive ability to sex it up with either one, ten, fifty or a hundred men(or women, whatever your preference is), then you have the cognitive ability to reason that you need to protect yourself. No one else can do it for you. Your punash, your health.

The f*er pissed me off

So I heard (well more like received via IM) some news this morning that gave me one of my ‘aha’ moments. Well, while the back story would give perspective and make my tale juicy, it involves stuff that people who should know, don’t. So after reading the news, my reactions were: the bomboclaat fucker; chuckling; a couple tears; begin to plot my revenge; forgiveness; and finally curiosity.

Yes, I’m one of those persons who if you see me chuckling before the tears come, RUN FO’ COVER!!! If the laughing comes after the tears, take into consideration afore mentioned warning and be afraid, be very afraid. It is a simple equation. More tears=more forgiveness=less likely to plot revenge and more open emotion sharing. More laughter=less forgiveness=more likely to plot (not just revenge) and evasive emotion sharing. Then after forgiving, and depending on my satisfaction of curiosity, I move on. Sadly, my friend outright refused to give me more details so I can’t plot my revenge/action fully, for fear of jumping the gun (dutty bastid). I realized that the person who may have hurt me was someone I care for, but just because I care and will still do so, doesn’t mean I’m a soft hearted desperate floozy. By virtue of me putting up with bullshit, it means I’m a nice person who tries to be understanding and not fall back on darker behavior. Seeing as how I did fall back on darker behavior because I just knew that something was off in this scenario, I’m finding it funny. Seeing as how I expected the person to act like they wear big people britches, I am exceptionally pissed. Pissed enough to boil a couple oleander leaves and make the person who offended me drink it, but since that entails work and me possibly going to jail, I won’t. Also seeing that I tried to honour the person’s wishes and still they refused to be honest, and when I was even doing something similar to what they may have did, they flipped, I am fucking enraged.

Do not, and I repeat do not cross me. I have come very far in my attempts to be a nicer person, in my acceptance that I have a temper that ought to be reigned in, in my aim to not be a manipulative brat who feels no remorse in using the masculine sex, in my wish just to you know, try and conform. So since it seems that for some reason each time I try, I get goosed, I won’t get bitter though. I’ll still be a friend; I’ll still try and care, and to some extent love. After calming down and mulling this over (albeit sober and without comfort food), I may decide to have a nice conversation with a couple friends. Then I may talk to the person and not ignore everything-sadly ignorance is so blissful and it is a preferred coping mechanism. And just maybe one day, I can look, talk to or even just think of the person without any homicidal tendencies. Woosah, that made me feel a little better.