Thursday, May 27, 2004

Tempin' Ain't Easy- Toya

I am temping at the unemployment office again and there are some reeeeaaaaallll special people who have been here today. Wow. That is really all I can say. I have found that my temper is shorter. I don't like a lot of foolishness and there have been a couple of people who have showed out already. I have had to remember that my attitude is part of the reason why I am temping here in the first place.

So I am at the receptionist desk and I find this poem on the desk calendar. Hope it encourages someone today.

Just Because

Just because someone may not have realized what a gold mine you are, doesn't mean that you shine any less.Just because someone may not have realized that you can't be topped,doesn't stop you from being the best.

Just because no one has come along to share your life doesn't mean that day isn't coming. Just because no one has made this race worthwhile, doesn't give you permission to stop running.

Just because no one has realized how much of an awesome woman you are, doesn't mean they can affect your femininity.

Just because no on has shown up who can love on your level, doesn't mean that you have to sink to theirs.Just because you deserve the very best, doesn't mean that life is always fair.

Just because God is still preparing your king, doesn't mean that you're not already a Queen.

Just because your situation doesn't seem to be progressing right now, doesn't mean you need to change a thing. Keep shining, keep running, keep praying, keep being exactly what you are already...Complete.

Monday, May 24, 2004


Now I have placed a similar warning before a post like this before and some of our male readers chose to read anyway,even though they came away severely grossed out. Look, this is called Black GIRLS like us. Girls won't be grossed out but I don't doubt that guys will. This really falls into the TMI (too much information) category, even for girls who do know me. It's up to yall. I need to talk to my girls for a minute.

Let's talk about thongs, shall we?

Tia and a few friends had an intervention of sorts with me a while back about my granny panties. Now see, I have always been thick around the middle so when I weighed more, I liked the comfort of making sure everything (ie all fat) was securely placed inside. I would wear underwear that would fit way up over my ribs and I was perfectly fine with that. Well it's not like I have the abs of Demi Moore or anything but my options have changed since losing some weight. I even went out and got a belly button ring. It was time to throw the granny panties out and get some cute girly draws. While shopping, I remembered that I had a pair of capris I couldn't wear due to the fact that my panty lines would show. Renee suggested I buy a thong. I had never worn one in my entire life so I ventured out and bought a pair. Oh, the horror.

I only had a short amount of time to get to my temp job today and I really wanted to wear the aforementioned capris so I took out one of my pairs of thongs. I put it on, quickly turned around to look in the mirror and had the shock of my life. I was sincerely mortified because I COULD NOT FIND NARY A TRACE OF IT!!! It reminded me of when I had shut my fingers in my garage door as a kid. The door completely shut on my hands and I couldn't feel my fingers, leading me to believe that they had been chopped off and all of them had fallen to the floor on the other side of the door. In this case, I panicked, fearing that my thong had mysteriously been sucked up into the great beyond. "This can't be right" I thought. "I must have them on wrong. Millions of women would not purposely do this to themselves." So I put them on backwards. DEFINITELY not right. I put them on about 4 more different ways and came to the conclusion that I was right the first time.

I cannot articulate the state of confusion that I was in. I felt so gross. I had assumed that when one wore a thong, the string was wide enough to cover the middle part of your booty. Not so. Can't be so. How in the world was a whole song written about this!? This is FAR from sexy! It could not be further. I had a decision to make: Should I leave it on considering the fact that these pants look good on me with the thong on? And if so, how on earth can I look people in the face today and hold an intelligent conversation while knowing that I have intentionally put on a pair of underwear that's sole purpose is to give me a wedgie all day long? Where is the justice?

Being a woman is so much harder than what it should be, it really is. I have a brand new respect for being a woman today than ever before.

So I am now sitting in this chair typing this, wearing the string to the side. Yes, to the side. I just couldn't bear it anymore. I find this whole experience to be terribly obscene and highly confusing. I have sat at my desk in constant wonder thinking of how I and millions of women everywhere purposely give themselves wedgies all for the sake of fashion. There is something desperately wrong with this.
Temp Job #2- Toya

I love temping!!!! I am right now at a country music record label, temping for the day. This is ideal: I get called for a job, I go and God gives me awesome opportunities to cheer up someone's day and/or to learn something. I prayed in the car on the way over here that God would use me to encourage someone today, even for a brief moment. The girl I am temping for today was feeling awful about her weight and we had a whole conversation about how I lost 25 pounds last year and how if I can do it, she can too.

Even better, I just had the absolute best conversation about the state of music with the security guard here. Take note: the people that play the background (security guards, secretaries, mailroom people) KNOW EVERYTHING. He said some things that I don't think I will ever forget:

"Some people play music, some people ARE music"

"Someone here asked me if I liked country music. I told them I didn't know because I hadn't heard country music in about 15 years." (Mind you, he works for a country music label. Ouch!)

Freaking hilarious. I heard from him the best advice I have heard about staying in the business in a long time. I truly thank God that I took this job today, even though I haven't seen Chris Cagle yet (snicker, snicker).

Friday, May 21, 2004

Something that pissed me off royally- Toya

A woman called the Wendy William's radio show saying that she was putting an ad in the paper to find an "assimilated" black man. She, being an "assimilated" black woman was looking for a politically correct way to say that she wanted a black man with white tendencies . According to, assimilate means to "To absorb (immigrants or a culturally distinct group) into the prevailing culture." You have GOT to be kidding me. She assumed that Wendy Williams was an assimilated black woman herself and this is probably because of the valley girl/suburban/okay, let's just call it "white girl" way she speaks. I can more than identify with this. I can't tell you how many times I have answered a phone and someone asks something like "oh is this Becky or Megan?" Wendy took offense to this and so did I. She spoke as if she is looking down on her own race and took a total "if you can't beat white people, join them or better yet, BE them attitude". This is so wrong.

Now grant it. We make jokes around here. I have often joked about Chrissy, my "inner white girl" because of my fascination with Rick Springfield, Brett Michaels and many other 80's teen white male stars. Yes, my brother has pointed out that Tia's and my fascination with Lenny Kravitz, Pharrell and Andre 3000 is due to the fact that he thinks they have "white boy tendencies" (flowing hair, rockers, skateboarding), but come on! Not once have I wanted to be white. Why would I as much as some white people try to tan and pump their lips up to look more like black people? This made me think though:did I try to assimilate in high school? I think that maybe there was a part of me that tried to distance myself and make some white people believe that I was just like them: I liked the same music, same boys, same TV shows. I often had more in common with more white people in my high school than black people. I just wanted to fit in where I was most comfortable. This is probably why what this woman said bothered me so much. It brought me back to a state of mind that I am quite embarrassed to say that I, unknowingly, held onto at one time. A long,long, LONG time ago.

I have a friend named Rose who is white and she always was like a big sister to me. She saw that I had problems fitting in at the black, inner city, Baptist church we went to and often encouraged me. However, she said something that I NEVER forgot: "You are never a nigger until you leave the room". Rose wasn't saying that all white people think that black people are niggers, but I shouldn't be fooled into thinking that people would forget that I was black. My dad told me a story of how my grandfather, often a sharped dress man, was walking down the street to work and a white, homeless bum who was laid out on the sidewalk looked up and said "You nigger". So I guess what I would tell this woman is that she can try to assimilate all she wants to but at the end of the day, she is black and no one is going to "excuse" her from that. As cute and cool as some white guys thought I was in high school and even though I liked a lot of the same things they did, I was still black and they were not asking me to prom. "What about prom, Blaine!? What about prom?!" (sorry, I had a Pretty in Pink flashback. Aww, Andrew McCarthy...)

BGLU is not about being assimilated black women. It's about being you with no excuses. Yes, Tia and I will be learning to skateboard soon. Yes, I am weekly checking to see if the Van Halen/Sammy Hagar is coming within 4 hours of Nashville. Yes, I often color my phrases with the terms "dude" and "rocks". This is not because I want to be white. This is because I want to be ME. And what I am, whether or not it is typical or fits any sort of stereotype, is black. And that rocks!

More of Toya's Ramblings
I am still working at the unemployment office with a lot of time to kill so here are some ramblings

1. Is it just me or can every situation be summed up in a John Mayer song? My life is one big "Why Georgia Why" right now. Actually it's the entire Room For Squares Album.

2. Kanye West is playing Dancin' In the district in June! Joy to the world. What I love about some of Kanye's songs, specifically Brandy's "Talk About Our Love" is that they sound like SONGS and not just computerized, synthesized beats. He also did Alicia Keyes' "You Don't Know My Name" "If I Can't Have You", Talib Kweli's "Just to Get By" and the new dilated People' song that I can't remember the name of.

3. Last summer, our favorite new band was Anberlin and this summer it's got to go to Falling Up. They have the best rock hooks I have heard in a long, long time. They are so amazingly good and once again come from the unstoppable Tooth and Nail Records (Anberlin, Further Seems Forever, every other really cool band). Check them out at Their video for their current single "Broken Heart" can also be seen on Radio U's TVU at

4. I need to stop watching Usher.

5. Saw VH1's Awesomely Bad Songs Countdown and I need to know what brain dead person put Mr. Mister's "Broken Wings" on there? Whoever it is, they are dead inside.

6. Friends is not coming back. I am coming to grips with this slowly.Yesterday was Thursday and I pointed out to Tia that one day a Thursday is going to come along and there will be no Friends. No reruns, no nothin'. Worst of all no Chandler. I keep telling my self that as long as I have not seen every single episode (I am not even close) then the show isn't really over. This is an illness. This is why I have elected to not pick up anymore sitcoms to get attached to. The only show I am now faithful to is That 70's Show and speaking of which...

7. Why is Hyde hot?

This really makes no sense. He is so mean and honestly, I think that is part of the reason. Even before he was trying to kick it with Reagan Gomez I was crazy about some Hyde. Come on now BGLU's. We all know that there are some white boys we can't even see until we find out that they like sistas: Adrien Brody, Roger Ebert...just playin'.

8. Tia and I have been talking about learning to skateboard, thus taking our coolness factor to a whole 'nother level (yeah, right). Tia is learning so when she learns to surf, she will already have good balance. I want to learn because I am tired of looking at other people and thinking how cool it is when I can learn how to do it myself. I figured I'd learn before I turn 30. I don't really want to do any serious tricks or anything. I just want to be able to do a few ramps.

9. How are you going to have a Motown 45 special and only have 2 artists that are currently on the label, Brian McKnight and Smokey Robinson in the show? I wanted to CRY! I was so pissed at the fact that everytime I heard about the special, they put more emphasis on Nick Lachey and Backstreet Boys being on there than the actual Motown artists that did perform that paved the way like the Four Tops and the Temptations. Don't even get me started.

10. Is there an actual documented phobia listed for fear of wet bread? Tia is the only other person I know with this phobia once again proving that we were destined to be together. I found this out one day when Tia was washing dishes and she squealed "Wet bread, wet bread. Oh my God!" All the sudden she started shaking and I had to walk over to her and pat her back. She was like "Hold me. Somebody HOLD ME!" I completely felt her pain. I swear it is the equivalent of chewing on tin foil. I don't understand how people can sop gravy up with bread. I don't care if I am at my grandmama's house with a plate full of potato salad, fried catfish, collard greens and cornbread. If any of that pot liquor gets on that bread, I am sawing the bottom half of that joker off, putting it in a paper towel with my fork and escorting it to the nearest trash can. There must be a name for this illness.
Ch-ch-ch-changes (How do you NOT love Bowie, I don't understand)-Toya

Right now,I am sitting at my first temp job since I was fired/let go/told to move on, whatever. Ironically, it's at the unemployment office. I have a few friends that have assured me that I wasn't really truly fired being as though I got a pretty healthy compensation to hold me over. According to my former bosses, they did so because they realize that me being let go wasn't really truly my fault. That's nice, I guess.

I'm bitter, I'm not gonna lie. I was praying this morning for God to help me forgive. I keep wanting to explain myself because there were some things that my bosses said to me that were simply unfair and not true. Even if these things were straightened out, the fact would remain that I simply didn't fit in there and that I was pretty frustrated. Past high school, I never have a problem fitting in anywhere. It's a hurt piece, I must say.

I liked getting up early this morning to go to work. I missed it. I really am having a hard time working for myself. I don't know if it is laziness or fear. I don't think I have woken up before 11:30 am since I got let go. This is why I have been feeling like crap. I really can't start my day working from home so I am thinking that I should take my laptop somewhere in the mornings and start there. Home is where my bed, refrigerator and satellite TV is. I have no desire to work there.

So I am feeling good today. I miss being a receptionist. This is not what I have been called to do but there is no pressure here. I have my own space, I smile and say hi to people. No one cares if I get along with them or not. I like it this way. And then of course,just when you get comfortable, WHAM! I said a while ago that I was sensing a big move of faith coming and it's here.

I miss being around people. I have heard that introverts get there energy from within but extroverts get there energy from being around other people. It is definitely true. I haven't been this awake in days. I probably will never see these people again but I enjoy seeing them and wishing them a good morning. It's been fun so far.

Thursday, May 20, 2004

Toya's Boyfriend of the Month:Ty Pennington

YES LAAAAWD!!! This man is so ridiculous, I have to change the channel and regroup sometimes before I turn it back. I don't know what it is because in a way,he is a bit on the dorky side sometimes. I have a liking for guys that can fix things. I have a much bigger liking for HOT guys that can fix things.

Ty Pennington was always cute to me on Trading Spaces but Extreme Home Makeover took it to a whole new level. I love the one where he did the room for the little girl who had cancer. He is so super sweet. Oddly enough, he reminds me of Matt Smith from Real World New Orleans, who will no doubt be joining the Boyfriend Archives in the future:

Yes? No?

Whatever. Since we are on the subject, check out Matt's new website It is brilliant.

Also, in further Boyfriend of the Month news, we must bid adieu to the latest to bite the dust and get married. I had the privilege of meeting Cookbook of LA Symphony and his new wife at a show recently and you know, it really is hard to hate on a couple that is so crazy adorable. They are so happy and I am really happy for them.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Feeling Emo- Toya

I am feeling what I have heard described as "emo" today. Kind of like the blahs but for no apparent reason and EVERY apparent reason. I have eaten much more than my fair share of low carb products and have planted myself on the couch. In keeping with my "emo" mood, I have put on some "emo" music. I was just listening to Beautiful Mistake (good band) and am now listening to a playlist I made of Further Seems Forever (favorite band), the new Cool Hand Luke record(which is soooo awesome) and Open Hand (another great band).

The weird thing is that if you are in the blahs, you probably should listen to some uplifting music and not some music that is going to co-sign your misery. I should probably get up and put on some Fred Hammond or Mary Mary or Out of Eden.

What, and ruin a perfectly good pity party?

I have NO idea what is going on in my life right now and I don't like it. I feel lost. Like I have these ideas but when I sat down today to map things out I was thinking "I must be crazy". Renee(our roommate)had a label showcase last Wednesday and it was our first show together where I DJ'd and I loved it. It was weird being on the other side of things as an artist and not on the manager's side where I am usually biting my finger nails and randomly pacing back and forth. I was straightening my clothes, making sure my zipper was up, all this craziness. My mixer cut out twice but no one noticed. It was a lot of fun playing the background.

So my dilemma is this: what on earth do I think I am doing? I am perfectly aware that God uses people like me who think that they can't do anything to do great things but then a part of me is so afraid of failure and falling flat on my face that I would rather sit on this couch for ever than get up and practice my scratches or work on my business plan. I have this whole "they are all going to laugh at you" complex. It's not just my life to mess up but now I am responsible for someone else's. It's crazy because all anyone has ever done for the most part is encourage me and tell me that I am going to do some great things. I hate fear.

For encouragement, I just called my friend Kennedy from California that I met about 3 years ago. He always seems to say some amazing, poignant, dead on the money, go get 'em type stuff.

He's at an Angels game.

I hate to say it but for the first time in my life I feel like I constantly have to be babied. I am so used to encouraging others but now I have to call other people for encouragement because I really need it. I hope no one takes this as a hint but the truth. I still feel awful about getting fired, 30 is around the corner and I am hanging in mid-air.

So as I am sitting here needing encouragement, my former boss (yes the one that fired me) has IMed me and is encouraging me to get into artist management. Could life get any weirder?

Friday, May 7, 2004

You need a thug in ya life
by tia

I was born and bred in the south. Not the dirty, dirty mind you. Mostly just in the ‘burbs. We lived in some sketchy neighborhoods a few times but never for very long. My mom always wanted to live in nice neighborhoods, so if somewhere we were living appeared to be questionable she would promptly move us. We won’t talk about how I’d been to 8 different schools by the time I was 17. I changed schools so many times in the 1st grade that I thought I’d failed. When you’re 6 you equate new class with new grade. So when they kept telling me that I was STILL in the first grade it just got to be too much for me. I thought I’d been held back. I was (too?) smart. I thought only dumb kids got held back. I was a mess of tears until they explained it to me. Anyway, I mostly lived in white neighborhoods, with white friends who listened to “white” music. I liked rap and hip-hop but I was all about some Def Leppard and Poison. (Love you, Bobby.) But sometimes things change.

Right around my junior year of high school, gangsta rap was hitting its peak. And I was a fan. Eazy-E, Snoop and Dre, DJ Quik, Bone Thugs, Pac, Scarface, I was a fan of them all. You would have thought I was straight outta Compton. I knew all of the words and would sing them loud and proud.
-Cuz I’m the E-A-Z-Y-E and this is the season to let the real Compton City G’s in

ALL of the words

-I never met an OG who never did nothing wrong/You tried to diss the Eazy-E but now sucka it’s on

I even knew the words to songs from the little known Bloods and Crips “reconciliation” tape. I think it was a shock to people who didn’t know me that well. I was the girl who got good grades, was going to med school and was runner up for homecoming queen. (I still demand a recount. That race was too close. I KNOW they counted the votes 3 times but that doesn’t make me feel any better.) I loved the looks on people’s faces when I would roll up to the school parking lot blastin’ Me Against The World in my Volkswagen Fox. I remember I rented a Jeep Grand Cherokee to drive to prom and then to Paramount’s King’s Island the next day. The system in the car was BANGING and we were shamelessly listening to Scarface with the windows down. The intro to one of the songs is this beautiful classical piece. Some older Caucasian people were in the car next to us as we were in the queue waiting to pull into the parking lot. They look over and smile at the young people listening to such beautiful music only to have their whole paradigm, not to mention their back windows, shaken when the bass hit from the first line: Snuck up behind him/had his hands in his pockets/took my pistol out a cocked/pulled the hammer back and popped it. We just laughed and proceeded to sing/rap along while leaving the people in the next car wondering, “What just happened here?”

People say music doesn’t affect you. Lies, lies and more LIES. I was a thug. I wore the clothes, talked the talk and sported the attitude. I was not afraid of much. I remember chasing down a then recently dumped boyfriend who had just tried to (literally) run me down in his Audi in the parking lot of my high school. I guess he didn’t take rejection well. Had I caught him I’m not exactly sure what I would have done, but that was beside the point. You do not come up to my place of education and show out. I wish you would. And then the was the infamous 3rd period Art Class “incident.” You do NOT talk about a thug’s mama. No matter how screwed up you think she may be, that’s still MOM. Oh, why did Jermaine have to go there? I didn’t want to break him down but I did. I talked about his mom, all 5 of his illegitimate brothers and sisters, including the one that passed away. By the end of it, he was understandably ready to fight. Bring it. One of his boys was holding him back. While I’m steadily screaming, “Let him go!!! Let that fool (but fool isn’t what I said) go. I’ll whoop him right now.” I knew no fear. Why? Because Eazy had convinced me to “Stop him in his tracks” and “Show him that I am ruthless.” My young impressionable mind had gone west and relocated somewhere around the LBC. I longed to have “16 in the clip and one in the hole.” There was something desperately wrong with me.

(In case you’re wondering, the teacher had stepped out of the room for an EXTENDED period of time. He was sketchy anyway. He was always keeping me and two other girls after class to talk about something asinine and supposedly art related. Dude, it’s art. We’re only here because we need this class to graduate. Why are you trying to expound on the virtues of our fruit bowl drawing? We found out later he was fired the following year for inappropriate relations with a minor...oh…Now it makes sense.)

I got older and my tendencies waned. Maybe it was because my life was no longer proliferated with lyrics about killing, robbing and looting. Instead I was a Dave Matthews Band junkie. (Hello purple sticky punch) But I still had my moments. I hung out with the bad boys. I ran with the drug dealers. And there are a few post-high school stories that all pretty much end the same… “I wish you would.” I still have a special place in my heart for thugs. Mostly it’s for the reformed kind. And I sometimes have to pray to keep my attitude in check. (Not as often as before though, thank God) But every once in a great while, I’ll be riding down the street and I’m almost positive that I can hear It’s Just Me Against the World playing somewhere in the distance. And I still get a little excited when a Dre video is the Ol’ School Joint of the Day on BET. Hey, thugs need love too.

Tuesday, May 4, 2004

Good time to be a girl
by tia

So I was in Wal-mart (as usual) buying a new alarm clock. I sincerely had no reason to go over to the cosmetic section. It’s on the opposite side of the store from electronics. Some how, though, I managed to make my way over toward the lip gloss, under the guise of, “Well, I do need vitamins.” They’re one row over from cosmetics, you see. Before I even go into this, I have to ask. Who is doing this to me? Who is sitting around in some boardroom saying, “I wonder what kind of lip gloss flavours we can make to torture people with?” Someone at Bonnie Bell is out to get me. And I’ve never been anything but loyal to them. Why are they bent on destroying me?

I couldn’t help myself. I was in the lip gloss aisle before I knew what happened. Innocently, I began to peruse the current choices. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. I was meeting Toya for lunch shortly, so the normal one-hour selection process would have to be brief. I almost didn’t see them. They were toward the bottom of the shelf. And I must confess they were rather non-descript looking. Upon, further inspection I saw names like “Birthday” and “Whipped Cream.” Excuse me?!? I bought ALL of them. There were only three choices mind you, but whatever. But as a lip gloss connoisseur I must confess that it was only after I read the label that I decided to take the plunge. I’ve been burned before. (Note: if something says “flavor/aroma” or anything remotely close to that, buyer: BEWARE. It is NOT flavoured. It is scented. And as you all know, petroleum that smells like strawberries still TASTES like petroleum.) Anyway, I either need to sue Bonnie Bell or buy stock. They are so responsible for the addiction. Look, if overweight people can sue McDonald’s I can sue the Lip Smackers people. This stuff is so addictive. I swear there is some sort of illegal substance in it. Whipped Cream lives up to its name. Buttercream tastes like the buttercream icing that I use on the strawberry cake I make. And Birthday tastes like birthday cake and ice cream. Seriously?!?!? Why? And where are the test groups for this stuff? Every new product is tested before it hits the general populace. Can a sistah get on the mailing list? “Yes, please send me the test samples for the Krispy Kreme Doughnut and Caramel Toffee Brownie Lip glosses.” Can you sustain yourself on lip gloss? But I don’t have a problem. Regardless of what you say.

And on a completely unrelated topic…MY fragrance is back!!!! Up until recently, I could often be found bemoaning the fact that the fragrance that I wore all throughout college was abruptly cancelled by the shortsighted marketing twerps at Yves Saint Laurent. So you can imagine my pure and utter elation when I saw a bottle of “In Love Again” in the duty free shop at JFK. Oh the memories. Anyway, if anyone is looking for a last minute birthday gift for me, (last minute meaning you have until July 22) feel free to pick up a bottle or 3 and ship it my way.

Oh and the lip glosses are Smackers Lip Frosting, in case any of my fellow addicts were wondering.

Man, sometimes I LOVE being a girl.

Addendum: So it turns out that I might have a problem. I was telling my other roommate Renee about my new Buttercream lip gloss. She got this special look on her face like, “Why does that even exist?” Finally she looked at me and said, “There’s no way you’re not eating that.” (So What?) I went upstairs to tell Toya. (I thought the comment was funny and she’d get a laugh.) But then here comes Toya with the hard questions. “So how long do you think you can go without buying more lip gloss?” I just kind of looked down and shrugged. She countered my indifference with, “Because I’m just saying, I just gave you 12 lip glosses.”

Me: But those were small. If you add them all up they probably only make like 4 regular glosses.
Toya: Okay. Fine. I just gave you FOUR lip glosses. And I know that you still have some of the clear ones left.
Me: Well, actually, I just bought 3 of those a couple of weeks ago.
(I bought three because I like to buy in bulk. And the last time I went to buy that particular gloss I couldn’t find it anywhere in the store.)
Toya: I’m just saying…YOU have alluded to the fact that you might have a problem…
Me: How about you shut up.
Toya: I’m just saying.

As I walk downstairs…
Toya: How many do you have in your car?
Me: HA!!!! None!!
Toya: Because they’re all in your bag?
Me: Shut UP!!

As I walk out the door
Toya: How many do you have at your desk?

To answer that question I only have ONE at my desk. And at this particular moment I only have 6 lip glosses in my bag. That’s not counting lip sticks, of course.

How long can I go without buying lip gloss? I don’t know. But is that a crime? I mean it’s not like I’m buying crack. It’s not a problem. It’s not. SHUT UP!!!!
Hi, My Name is…-Part IV- Toya

This weekend, I actually got to spend some time around Mr. Hi, My Name Is’ band. A mutual friend and I hung out with them and even though we all had dinner together, I barely saw him. Who knows, maybe he got around me and didn’t think I was so fly after all. Maybe he is nervous around me and doesn’t know what to say. Maybe the Holy Spirit got in his ear and was like “Son, she is not one to be played with. She will cut you long, she will cut you deep and she will cut you wide.” Whatever it is, he is not hurting for attention because as it turns out, my man’s got pros. Oh, he’s got pros. In different area codes. (That’s right), area codes. Turns out that a few of his band members are no better. In fact, they may even be worse.

I don’t think that there is anything wrong with making friends in different cities and hooking up when you are in town. However, if you have people in different parts of the country all thinking that they are someone special, that is crazy deceptive and flat out wrong. For instance, I have a friend who is a musician and he lives up north. He comes to town, we go out and eat. We may talk a few times out of the year on the phone. As great as he is, there is nothing between us and he has not let on that there is (at one point, I wouldn’t have minded though but I digress). He now has a girlfriend and has let it be known that he does. This weekend, I kicked it with one of Mr. Hi My Name Is’ band members that never even let on that he had a WIFE; no ring, no nothin’. Not that I was interested, but I am not new to this. It was pretty obvious that he was getting his flirt on.

So Mr. Hi, My Name is not married but has had a steady girlfriend for quite some time. Who knows? She may be perfectly aware of his shenanigans. As for the other members, I have always heard rumors of some shadiness and quite frankly chalked it up to girls just getting over emotional. I mean, Pac was right when he said “There’s a lot of real G’s doin’ time cause a groupie bent the truth or told a lie.” My gender is notorious for creating relationships in their minds; we can be “sentimental fools who don't see and try hard to recreate what has yet to be created”. As Tia has said time and time again, needy chicks are scary. This weekend I learned that the tales are indeed true for I saw it with my own eyes and I am pretty sick over it. I am not on some ol’ “All men are dogs” type crap but brothers, you need to check your boys. They are making yall look pretty bad.

Saturday, May 1, 2004

April Showers BETTER Bring May Flowers-Toya

Sometimes It Snows In April-Prince

It indeed did snow this April. Literally, it snowed all day one day in the second week but it didn't stick. Figuratively, because unforeseen and unlikely things occurred every week. I learned a lot of things about myself. I spent a weekend with two teenaged girls and began to understand why parents live in fear for their children's (particularly daughter's) safety. I actually said things that my parents have said to me that seemed ridiculous at the time I was a teenager and now as an adult make perfect sense. I have begun to come to grips that Tia and I one day, maybe soon, will have to split ways. That is going to be a Rachel/Monica moment if ever there was one. And well, we have already filled you in on the boy drama so no need to go into that. I learned so many lessons this past month that I repeatedly said "I am so ready for April to be over." Well it finally came to a close but not without one last surprise.

I am typing this from my desk on a Saturday afternoon. Why I am working on a Saturday? Because much to my surprise, I was fired yesterday. Yes, fired. And not because of performance either. I was fired because I could not get a long with other people in my office. I am the kind of person where work comes first and socializing comes second. There was way too much pressure on me to get along on a personal level with people that I had nothing in common with. I was content getting my work done at my desk and minding my own business. In doing so, my coworkers took that as being standoffish and thought that I was mad all the time. I suddenly became the killjoy.

You know what it reminds me of? Ever been at a party and you are the only one NOT drinking? You don't mind that everyone else drinks. You may not like how they get when they drink but that is their prerogative as long as they leave you alone with your can of Sprite. But what starts to happen is they start looking at you and asking you why you don't want to drink. Then after a while, they start getting mad at you and you feel like, "I have no problem with what you want to do, why don't you leave me be?"

There is a sarcastic tone in my office that I desperately tried to get in tune with from time to time and it made me miserable. There were times when I would try to get involved in conversations and no one would answer me or I just got shot down because I completely disagreed with what they were saying. It just didn't click. After a while, I just stopped caring. I love my bosses and am really hurt by the whole situation because after talking about everything it looks as if a lot of things were assumed about me that just weren't true. I knew that I didn't fit in and my only concern that even though that was not going to change, did they still want me there even though I did quality work? The answer to that is a no. For some people in my office a resounding Hell No. And I don't blame them because a good part of this was my fault. I just started to hate it here after a while and it started to show.

I am not going to miss this place. I will miss the artists and managers I worked with. I'll miss my bosses who are so sweet that I know they had to muster up a lot to let me go. My other coworkers, not so much. Because I hate for people to talk around me. My bosses and my friend who referred me for the job were the only ones that ever asked if I was okay. Everyone else just assumed I was mad. If they would have asked I would have said "Well, I worked at Starbucks until 12:30 last night" or "I have been bleeding for 6 straight days, how the hell would you feel" (sorry to our male readers) or "How can I get a word in edgewise when the person next to me talks nonstop and is so hell bent on getting attention all day every damn day?" Maybe I would have said those things. I will never know.

On a side note, what I do know is that I hate MAC computers. I won't miss that.

So my bosses are going to help me find a job and as far as this business goes I have excellent references from some pretty well respected people in this industry. If there is anything that I am sad about is that I have let the guys I assist down because I don't even have two weeks to wrap up. That is why I am here on a Saturday. They are on vacation and don't even know that when they come back, they won't have an assistant.

I couldn't sleep last night either. I finally fell asleep around 4 and woke up at 7:30. I just felt really, embarrassed, rejected and my pride was hurt really deep. But all in all, I know God has a plan. I simply wasn't supposed to waste anymore time here. It was time. Still, no one likes to be fired.