Getting In My Head

Round 2....


Grrrrrr. Have you ever met people who just irked your soul? People who irk your soul are those who just make you want to kill yourself or kill them because they are just that annoying. They are the people who talk and when they talk the only thing going through your brain is OMG! Why are you still here on this earth! I have a name for these people who irk my soul...they are called Tomato Hitlisters. I call them that because they are people who if I saw them on the street, I would most certainly hit them with a tomato...or a brick to knock some sense into them. I'm not going to name specific people in my personal life but I will name some general people that most people could relate to....

Some famous Tomato Hitlisters are: Puff Daddy aka Puffy bka P.Diddy ktma Clown (note to everyone k.t.m.a. means "known to me as"), Tyra Banks (she's so phony and such an Oprah wannabe)

I'm not here to talk about celebs because that is some white-girl locker room gossip type shit but I just wanted you to get the gist of what Tomato Hitlisters are.

N e ways, with that said, I must say that there is a guy in particular who IRKS MY FREAKIN SOUL MAN! Ugh. I just do not understand niggas who have hissy fits. It's so.....so......so......bitchy. I will not name any names but there is some nigga that is out there in the world poking his lip out because I did not call him to tell him that I was back in Bmore until yesterday. Apparently, he thinks that I have "issues" because I did not ask to bless him with my presence. I mean really, he needs to grow up. I think he has issues considering he is really that mad about the fact that he thinks I should go out of my way to see him.

The only people I came to see while I was in town were my niece and nephews. I have not hit anybody up. I'm tired of dealing with Baltimorans and because I'm a non-committal person, I'm working on developing more meaningful relationships with people in general. Therefore, I have not been putting time and effort into people who I associate with. If I cannot truly relate to a person....I'm bypassing them.

My sister and company (ktma Danielle Incorporated), asked me the other day "Why when everyone comes home from work do you leave? How come you just do not stay and chill with us after being around the kids all day?". I did not need to respond because HGM (hot ghetto mess) responded for me and said "Because she don't care about us". Damn Skippy. I came to see the kids, I accomplished my mission, time to go. I just do not have time, tolerance, or patience for foolishness.

The unnamed guy that I mentioned told me "oh so now that you left Bmore, you shittin on it real hard. That's not even right". Why ain't it? I was never known to sugar coat anything so why should I start now....and the fact is, B-More is filled with Baltimorans who continuously B-Less. It ain't for me and I'm not going to pretend that it is.

Hmmmmmm.........

If it were not for my JuJu Beans and my Niyah, I'd be chillin in Pittsburgh with my Roomie and the white chic (we address our white roommate and her boyfriend as Anabelle and Peanut).

OMG. EWWWW. Two days ago, I had the strangest conversation with my dad. Of course him and my mother are not currently together but like with all break-ups there is a lot of back and forth. My dad has always been pretty laxed in conversation with me but Ewwwww....I do not need to hear about him and my mother's sex life. THE TERROR, THE TERROR. I'm the type of person who when people do things that I do not particularly like, I usually just nod, smile, and give them the okey-doke (unless it's something significant in which case I act like a damn fool).

He was telling me all this because he apparently has a new love interest and he wanted my advise as to whether he should pursue the new interest or work on it with my mother. I told him to pursue the chic...and I met her yesterday. It was a little awkward but copacetic nonetheless. I think the chic has an interest in my dad but because he has a bad rap sheet concerning his relationship with my mother, she's proceeding with caution.

I'm kind of having a problem with divided loyalties. In most of my relationships with people in general, I'm always playing the middle man. And I always have a problem with divided loyalties. The only difference is, if someone gets mad because I do not choose a side, I usually do not care. I usually look at them sideways and think that they should not make me choose. But when it comes to my parents, it is definitely a little deeper than that. But I will not go into details.

Of course my greedy ass is hungry. I think that I was a fat kid in a past life or something because I'm always hungry. I think that's just my personality in general. I'm hungry for everything...the world is not enough. Since my dad has been livin on his own, he has become a master chef. It's funny because the whole time that I've known him he has rarely cooked a damn thing. But I must say that surprisingly his food is OFF-THE-CHIIIZZZZAIN!

I'm ready to go back to Pittsburgh but I feel obligated to stay in Bmore until Sunday because I do not want JuJu Beans and Niyah to think that I'm permantly leaving them. Spring Break with them has been definitely bitter sweet.

I used them for a project that is due some time after spring break for my Photography class. I am enjoying photography but it is a lot more involved than I would have hoped. You have to manually develop the film and manually make prints....then you have to mount it. It's very very time consuming. But once you get a good picture, it all seems worth it. I'll probably be posting some of pics soon....stay tuned.

I'm not looking forward much to the bus ride back to Pittsburgh. On my way down I met this wierd lady who told me that she had a dream where I told her my name was Fran Franklin. She told me that in her dream I kept getting mad at some chic typing on her laptop too loudly so I told the chic to stop typing before I put her in the emergency room. Then she told me that in her dream me and the guy who was sitting in front of me was discussing marriage. The whole bus ride she kept addressing me as Fran. I did not feel the need to correct her because 1) crazy people should not have my real name and 2) it's funny to fuck with crazy people so I played it up and said "OMG! How did you know my name was Fran Franklin. You must be psychic"....more like psycho.

She was on her way to DC from Pheonix, AZ. Her boyfriend kicked her out the house after beating her (her face was beaten in). A friend wired her some money for the bus to DC. All she had on her was her pajamas and some flip flops. It was her first time ever riding the bus.

People are interesting.

Well...that's really all that has been on my mind lately....I'm about to raid the kitchen and make myself something to eat.

Lata Bitches!