#hiatusover

So.......

Do you know how long I've been meaning to set the keyboard on fire with an entry? I guess ya'll do. I think all of us bloggers that have a life outside of blogging go through that. As someone who's written in a journal throughout her entire life, and then suddenly life gets soooo damn hectic you stop doing what came in like breathing to you...needless to say, I have been feeling like I'm drowning for nearly 3 years since I've stopped writing this blog. And my journal. Everything came to a standstill once I got married. Yup. Married.

You know how people say you kind of lose yourself after you jump the broom? That happened with me. And more so because we were in a long distance relationship, so the moment that we were finally able to be together everyday made us feel like that was all we wanted to do. Of course that gets old eventually and ya'll start to get on each others nerves, argue, make up and do it all over again. 

Why did I want to settle down again? Lol. I guess consistent dick and added income is what's hot. Hahaha. I love his ass though. 

Anywho if you recall, I said I never really got to see my friends in the area much anymore. Unfortunately that hasn't changed much. Keish Keish now has 3 girls, Karla 2 boys. My partner in crime K now lives in Richmond VA, is settled and almost married -- Yes, K!
She  is closer but still pretty far from me. Pop Pop I do not see at all, and I am unsure as to whether we are even still friends. We still facebook friends. *Blank stare*
Miss D I see from time to time, but her husband is a hot ratchet mess who has cheated my husband (for sake of remaining nameless, we gon' call him Big Daddy (I know, how original...and he barely 170 lbs soaking wet, haha) out of money.

So yeah, life has a way of changing after you hit 30. Honestly, I thank God Im able to see another day. I am grateful for my little family of 3... but lets be honest. 
I am probably  bored like 90 percent of the time. To the point I actually look forward to going to work because its my only outside contact with grown ups. 

And it doesn't help that I have the quintessential Jamaican husband who actually works 2 jobs, 7 days a week!

Ya'll know how much I used to love a club , cigarette, and a cocktail. 

Well, I haven't been to a club since 2011! I rarely get a chance to drink now because

I have a baby girl! 

She will be referred to as Chocolate Chunky since that's what i call her :)  She'll be five months next week. It still feels like only yesterday I had her. Gorgeous lil thing with the prettiest brown eyes and a head full of hair. She definitely inherited the best genes from both of us. Everyone says I should sign her up to be the Gerber Baby or get her in magazines...but I'm not. I done read to many scary ass Illuminati stories about what they do to talented lil chirrens in the limelight. No sir!

Anywho, as for cigarettes , it is probably in my best interest not to smoke ever again-- per the nephrologist-- because they believe I'll have high blood pressure when I'm older.

Wanna know how they determined this? During my pregnancy, towards the end I started to swell up like a muthafka. My damn feet looked like Professor Klump. Body was on swole you hear me?!

My Bitch Doctor tells me to eat less salt. 


She never, not once, tested me for Preclampsia although I had all the tell-tale signs. It took me having to lie and say my baby wasn't moving so I could get admitted to the hospital and checked and monitored. After 3 days of being on monitor with no food, the baby became a bit distressed so they performed a c-section. On my way the Doc that performed my c-section randomly says to me, "Have you ever had problems with your kidneys?"
Me:No
Her: Oh. 

Not a damn word else on it. Speed up to three days later, these hos release me, and i end up having a seizure at the ratchet PG Hospital close to my house. 

While I was there I found out I had preclampsia. My kidneys had went into acute renal failure. I ended up having to spend 2 weeks there. It was agonizing being away from my newborn, and being poked with needles, and having to deal with mean ass doctors who didn't empathize with my situation. Well, not all, but most. That damn county hospital got a hold of my good up Blue Cross Blue Shield and raped it ya'll. 
They performed all kinds of tests, brain scans, you name it. Everyone who could was coming through to see me to get that insurance money. A mess.

I'm pretty much recovered. 

Allllladat to say dis. My favorite past times are no more, lol.
 
Only issues I have now is with my eyes, and the fact that I need to lose weight. Again. Before I got pregnant I was down to a lovely size 10, medium. I had lost 30 lbs. Couldn't tell me shit. Now I look the way I did, pre weight loss. Wearing a size 14. Don't have time to work out. I speed eat most of the time because Chocolate Chunky is demanding. 

Her dad works nights so we save on the cost of childcare, so as soon as I get home from work, I'm with her with no break, and he goes to sleep so he can get up for work in the evening. It's rough, but we work with it. Plus we're both afraid to put her in a daycare before she's able to talk. My child has this way of crying that if you weren't looking straight at her you would think someone was abusing her. It is scary, and I would die after killing a bitch if some caretaker lost patience and hurt her because of it.

But once she's able to communicate and is potty trained we'll get her settled into one so she can learn to get along with other little children. I go back and forth with whether I should have more because of the seizure and the chance of it happening again. 

Right now I'm good with just one anyway.

The next thing that keeps me busy is my govvy contract job finally allowed me to become a Security Analyst. I was shafted because this took place after a change in contracts, and of course seeing my meager Project Administrator salary the new company tried to play me. I fought , and got a $15K increase...still underpaid, but I'm thankful just the same. 

Now my days aren't only just spend twiddling my thumbs...only 1/3 of the time now :) We are also now able to telework which is great.  And my old Bitch Manager. They got rid of that ho. When praises go up , blessings come down I tell you.

What else? Oh yeah, I moved from my beloved southwest DC to Maryland. Ratchet ass PG County, Landover to be exact. Oh the adventures that take place out here! One day I will tell you about  my apartment complex. I just had an exchange of words with the hos that run the property again this week. I'd rather not talk about them. Ugh.

Dinka ran away. And so did my other cat Cupcake. :( Guess they knew they were about to get put up for adoption because shortly before they did I found out I was pregnant and we moved to this apartment that had carpet. I didn't want the pet dander affecting the baby. I loved my pets, but shit. My kid comes first. 

I wanna say that's it. For now anyway. I'm trying to make it my point of duty to write at least once a week now. 
For sanity's sake

Ciao Muffins,

Monie

Snakes... in a muthafuckin office

Today my homeboy/coworker and i were chitchatting. He'd gone to lunch with 2 of our government bosses (we'll call the man "Boss Nasty #1 and the female "Boss Nasty #2") and he goes:

"We were talking and you came up"

So, naturally I brace myself for the bullshit.

"Oh...really? I'm afraid to ask why"

Coworker/homey laughs, and goes on to say its not bad. First, they were saying that they were proud of the work I've done; annoyed that my direct manager (We'll call her "Dirty Tooth" because her teeth are shit colored brown) liked to say I wasn't capable of putting out this quality and detail of work, then he hit me with the news that annoyed me:

"Then they asked when was the last time you've cried. I told them its been a while. Then Boss Nasty 1 said 'Good! Because I told her last time to stop being a punk!'

So I kindly rolled my eyes and listened to the rest of what happened at lunch. But now that I am home, I am slightly fucking annoyed. Let's do a quick back track.

Boss Nasty #2 used to be a contractor like myself in the same position under Dirty Tooth. Dirty Tooth used to treat her shitty and as if she were incapable just as she used to do me. So Boss Nasty #2 switched positions, eventually left the company and now came back as a government worker and is the government manager of Dirty Tooth.

Life's a bitch. Be careful of who you kick underneath you because you will find yourself underneath them, looking like a heehaw donkey.

Anywho. When Boss Nasty #2 came back, she used to have all these private side discussions with me about how she likes to see the underdog rise up, and she's going to help me, and bla bla bla. I thought her and Boss Nasty #1 genuine to tell you the truth because I have had talks with them on several occasion.

Now, here's when the crying took place.

One day while i was working on a project that Dirty Tooth had basically ripped to shreds like she does everything people work on without her guidance, I went and talked to Boss Nasty #2. Because she and i had talked before and i thought her an ally. Anyway, while i was talking to her i was so angry. When I am angry, I cry. Its not that I am crying because I'm so hurt. I am crying because i want to fuck a bitch up and i can't without going to jail so this is the best alternative. She tells me to follow her to #1's office so we can continue to talk privately there. While we're talking he comes in and he gives advice and says

"You gotta toughen up, no crying. People will think you're weak."

Ok cool, I understand that. That's not why I'm crying but ok. I didn't bother to correct them.

But I guess I should have correct them because now months later, why is my crying the topic of lunch conversation...with 3 of my coworkers?

Although I'm cool with all 3 of my coworkers, still, why you discussing me with them? I have more than several reasons to believe Nasty #1 and #2 are fucking (we'll get into that another day) but do i go around telling it to their coworkers?  Naw.

You just cannot trust people in the workplace. I am learning this more and more day by day. Many of them, especially the government people, will show you a nice face, talk shit with you, just to see where your head is at, and what they can get out of you. They have no interest in your career or life, and if they do try to get you ahead (which is a rare case) it is only because it will be to their advantage.

Your same coworkers, very often, while they will chat shit with you, hang with you and the like, will  tell you that you're capable of this and that, and although they can help you, they won't. I've been here nearly 3 years and only one person has helped me learn anything and that's Coworker/homey I mentioned earlier. People think if you have education and that they help you, you want to take their job or worse! You may get higher rank or pay than them.


The lesson I've learned here is that you cannot trust people. Sad, but true.  When I take on my next position God blesses me with I will keep very quiet and to myself. I will place my personality on pause, make my money and go home. Because this is some niggerbullshit I simply don't need in my life.

*peep*

Its been more than a while.
I've lost myself.
Hopefully I can find my way again...

Farewell Simone

So I know I promised I'd write about the details of my wonderific, fantastical relations, but I cain't bring myself to do it. I just feel like its too personal.

There's something more pressing I wanna talk about.

I believe this will probably be my last entry.

Let's have some real talk.

If you've noticed, there's been a theme in the last couple of entries about how I've changed bla bla bla.

I think it keeps coming up because I'm just not the same gal I used to be. I've matured both spiritually and mentally. A lot of times I have the time to write, and Lord know DC gives a slew of material to write about.

But.

I just haven't because I feel conflicted about whether I should write about certain things or not.

I started this blog at a point in my life when I was in major turmoil. I was suffering from an anxiety disorder (agoraphobia). I was angry, sad, and just emotionally imbalanced. I pretty much had to learn to live all over again if that makes any sense. Because there wasn't much I could do, I leaned upon God, my imagination, the entertainment industry, sexual escapades,and creativity to pull me through a rough time in my life.

And thus, crazy, messy, silly Simone Dior dropped onto the world wide web not giving much of an eff about anything. The equivalent of my imaginary friend. The part of myself who wasn't afraid to say anything. What I needed when I needed it the most. An outlet.

This blog helped me to laugh at myself, interact with others, and see that life indeed wasn't as serious as we make it out to be. It even helped me to get published. It has indeed been a blessing.

It's just not really representative of who I am anymore. So. I've decided to let Simone go. I will miss the silliness, tranny-antics, and tee-hee-hees. However, this blog will remain because I need to read my blogroll n' shit. And who knows. Maybe Monie will make a special appearance from time to time.

trannyhugs, tranny kisses xo

i wish you all the best in 2011 and beyond.

-m.

been a minute, yeah i know. Slap me.

Hey muffins!

How I've missed thou. I've just been going through lots of personal changes. Not that that's an excuse. But. Whatever.

Life is pretty good. Just grinding, knocking out this certificate, and weeding out the waste in my life. By waste I mean particular people. Unfortunately this included folks who I considered very near and dear to me. Then i realized that I wasn't nearly as near and dear to them.


You've heard it before. Some people are in your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
It's been my experience that hos be lasting a season and many a time they don't never have no reason. I can count on my hands who's been around a lifetime. I won't blame said hos. Lots of times it's my own fault. But whatever. Either way, those meant to be in your life will be there. Those who are not, will make their exit.

One thing's for certain, two things for sure- you won't even miss them after a while.


Spent Christmas in the JA. My family came down as well, and my family and my fiance's families met. My family met my fiance' for the first time. I am glad to say he passed the test :)

We had lots and lotsa fun. Lotsa rum. Monie got lots of relations. Woo chir'rens! I shall touch more on that when I get home though. Don't wanna give the goodies on the work pc :)

Well, that's all for now folks.

Later gators!
**_monie

Three Years Later… Post Glory Days, and Other Bullshit

I turned 28.

*dead pause*

And as dry as that sentence was is exactly how I spent it.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be alive; Praise God, but as much as I hate to admit it—I’m truly an old bitch grown up now. I remember when I went home to recuperate from life back in 2007 all I wanted was for my anxiety to be gone so I could go to happy hours and clubs with my peoples, drank tequila, and paint the town red…and green, and mafuckin gold.

But no more.

I would love to say it’s because the old crew has disbanded, people who used to love you no longer love you, you no longer love them, bitches got kids and shit, et cetera et cetera. But honestly, even if I had the chance to do it—I don’t think I’d want to.

I am in fact the reason that I am an old bitch.

When you spend 3 years working to feel calm (and this is still in progress), learning to be still when all you want to do is run (for no damn reason at that) ; facing things, and being a grown ass woman—the last thing on your agenda is guzzling dranks and dropping it down low to the floor.

I mean, even when I heard my favorite club (Love) had re-opened I still didn’t feel compelled to go out. That was when I knew it was over for me, because back in the day if I heard the gang was going to Love, I all but wet my panties.

Besides. None of my bad bitches were here to hit it up with me. Plus, I might still be on the banned list from that one night…

*blankstare*

We’ll talk about that hot mess another day. Anywho.

Trust me, I ain’t knocking nobody if this is still their thing. It’s just not mine anymore. And I accept that.

Sheeit…all I wanna do is remain happy, grow closer to God, work this job, get my IA certificate, make more money, marry my baby (most days), have us a baby (most days) , and enjoy feeling calm. I guess I wanna do a lot. But its feasible.

Anyway, I did end up going home for my birthday. Oddly enough the only friends that came to see me were my homey Tamika, Nay, and *gasp* the Drunken Munchkin aka DM.

DM and I have developed quite the friendship actually. He’s actually cool as hell, and I can see why we were best of friends in middle school. I don’t even mind that he’s a chatterbox now. Could be because he’s not generating conversation that’s cutting into dick-time.

*Shrug*

He’d been telling me for weeks he had something to tell me. I guessed either he got someone pregnant or was getting married.

DM swung by my house and he and I went for a walk around the block and he admitted the former: DM gon’ be a daddy ya’ll.

This is truly weird. I can’t picture him as someone’s dad. I can only see him as the nasty trollop who kisses really great, gives spectacular head, and throws some of the meanest penis. But in spite of that, he gon’ be somebody’s daddy.

Apparently it doesn’t change the freak in him cause he was trying to convince me to fuck for old time’s sake. I had to let him know it wasn’t gon’ happen. And then we walked back to my house and had ice cream cake and laughed til the wee hours of the morning.

Went to church the next day (my actual birthday), napped and flew back to the urrrea. Spent that evening on Skype with my future. I love his sexy ass. *cheese*

Truth be told though- sometimes he be getting on my nerves. I know the reasoning is gonna sound silly, but hey, I’m me and it is what it is.

Here’s the gripe I have with relationships. I love being in them until about the 6 month mark. Because that’s when the newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feelings wear off. For the men in my situations at least. Is it wrong for me to want that newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feeling to last forever? I think it bothers me so much because when I fall in love with someone, I always have that newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feeling. It never wears off for me. Unless a nigga just don’t have any actright.

*scratching head*

Then again, the longest halfway healthy relationship I’ve ever been in only lasted about 8 months or so.

Anyway, my man is acting like the love’s going old. Not calling and texting like he used to. I know he’s not misbehaving, I just feel like I’m putting more of my heart into it than he is. I know he loves me. I just want him to be crazy about me like he used to be. Like, I want him to always feel that way. Because of this we get into stupid arguments which often end with me apologizing to him because this ideology of mine, I admit, is halfway crazy. All I can do is pull myself back to even the score. Thing is, I don’t want to. I never want to hold myself back when it comes to loving my other half. I thought I had found someone who loved the same way I did, but now I’m not so sure. And this poses a problem, because we’re supposed to get married in December. I’m not so sure I can marry someone who isn’t as wrapped on in me as I am in them. I’ll have to go into deep prayer on this one.

*sigh*

When it aint one thing its another.

Later Gators.

Xomuah!monie__♥

Such is life...

Hey Cupcakes!

Yup.. I'm still around. Glad to see some of ya'll are as well...and welcome back Miss Bella. I missed you.

Still here in DC trying to catch up on life and thangs. Already looking for my next apartment cause the rent here is higher than Richard Pryor in the late 70's!!s

Gonna move into a nice part of SE DC.
Wish me luck.

I do need to find me some friends though. Some new ones. The old ones I still fucks with are always busy and I'm alone way more than I should be. If it weren't for church and me running my mouth with everyone who seems normal and bus drivers, I'd have no human contact. I talk to people at work, but my boss is Hitler in a knockoff Tahari suit and has everyone uptight so we don't really say much to each other.

Speaking of work, basically, Monie don't do shit all day and gets paid handsomely for it. I wish I were able to do something, but my boss is a miserable micromanaging hellion. This ho talks more shit than a lil bit about everybody. She did me real dirty this week, and muffins, I tell you....If I didn't know my Jesus, and if I didn't have class in the daytime... I would have told this heifer about herself, her vagina, her mama, and her whole generation.


Anyway, so here I am. Master's in hand (the piece of shit degree finally came in the mail), doing nothing that has to do with marketing...doing nothing at all. I can't even get on blogger and type like I want to because my PC screen is like friggin 25 inches and everyone walks past my desk. But, Monie's no fool. I done found friends in some important places there and they're mentoring me for my next come up. Stay tuned.



I'm trying to make myself write more these days, but oddly enough... the more content I am, the more boring I become.

Go figure.

Muah! Love you muffins!
xo

H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S

H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S


Bet ya’ll didn’t know that word was an acronym.

Monie, say what?

Hell fuckin’ yeah.

Look it:

*Monie hurriedly scribbles the the following word vertically on her imaginary chalkboard and uses the chalk to point out each letter to your attention*


H is for Hustling

O is for Others'

M is for Money

E is for Eating (and drinking too) and

L is for Living free off of

E veryones

S hit and finally

S for So the fuck what, bitch?

*Chalk snaps in half from all the hard pointing. Monie throws what’s remaining in her hand somewhere over her shoulder and barely misses Dinka cat’s head*
Good-bye T.O.N.Y., Hello H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S.!

Solange aint the only bitch that can make an acronym out this mafucka!

H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S - Got it, everybody?
Now for today’s diatribe.
*Cue in T.O.N.Y instrumental*

I don’t like homeless people. That’s right, I said it. I don’t.
I feel like 99% of them are living foul-like—begging for money under false pretenses of being hungry and having no money for the bus. Meanwhile, they got more money than me because during the 8 hours I’ve been busting my ass for about $35 dollars an hour (that gets tax-raped down to like $17) you, oh Homeless Wonder, have been sucking dick tax free for crack and Popeye’s Chicken.

(Click on these pics to enlarge-- they're a must see)

And if he (or she) is one of them new age Nomads like the ones that bless DC and NYC they fucks with nothing but Starbucks, Coca Cola, and Fiji water.

Monie, say what!?

Oh yes!! They are brand whores for real. I implore you to keep reading!

Well damn, bitch-- why are you so mad about it?

Really, it’s a combination of a whole lot of things, but I ain't got time for all that.

The main reason I’m so mad is because I KNOW for a fact (ok, maybe not a fact, but I have a strong ass feeling) that these ho’s are holding no less than $40 bucks after they done got through a day’s “work”.

Story time.
Yesterday, the 21st century nomad that posts up by my job asked me to spare some change. Now, I have watched old boy very closely since I’ve begun working at my job.

Every morning around 7:30 I see him sipping STARBUCKS coffee or Frappuccinos.

Every evening he’s across the street from Starbucks posted up in front of CVS panhandling for bus fare, snacks, and the cold drink of his choice. Make note that he only panhandles evenings.

What’s on his agenda in the mornings??

Mmmhmm.



Dick suckin’ and crack smokin’.
Swallow it, gargle it.



Sometimes I see this ho ass fucka on the bus. He rides it 3 whole stops and gets off. And! Wait for it….he wears an exceptionally clean pair of Jordans. Yes. JORDANS. I kid you not.



See, I’d respect ‘em more, and would probably even dip into my pocket *blankdamnstare* if these bastards told the truth or didn’t yell out demands to me.



So now that you have the background on this mafucka--- continue on.

Anywho, when he begged for my money I kindly told him that I debit everything and don’t carry cash. Which is true. Right now I exactly One Cent in my wallet, 2 void checks and $10 Jamaican dollars which is probably equivalent to…half a cent. Dead ass. After I said this to old boy, he yelled out something that left me fuckin’ flabbergasted.

Wooo chile, tell us what he said!

Sheeeiit…would I be me if I didn’t?

This muthafucka said,

“Well when you go inside bring me back out a Coca Cola!”

Say whaaaaa?!

*In my best Solange voice*

Homeless don’t beg no mo’/ They be makin’ requests oh noo

Yes, ladies! This fool didn’t even ask for something to drink, he demanded his choice of soda. Mind you, if I had, it would mean I’d have to walk in the opposite direction of where I’m going. He got a lot of nerve! I guess not having a home doesn’t stop a man from acting like a man, huh? *blank.damn.stare*

Just for kicks, I looked at the price of Coke and it was $1.79, which probably after tax brings it up to $2.00 and change. Part of me wanted to go back and elbow buss him in his dusty ass head. Because I can do a whole lot of shit with two dollars.

Let me break down the value of $2.00 in Monie’s world:

- That’s one day’s travel to and from work (or at least it was until Metro hiked fares yesterday—thanks ya bastards)

- A four piece chicken nuggets and fries at the Golden Arches—which Monie’s fat ass shouldn’t be eating, but still.

- One load of clothes washed (or dried) in the laundry room

- One can of frozen concentrated juice which I am forced to buy thanks to this severe case of broketivity I’m experiencing

- A box of Rice-a-roni. You know, The San Francisco Treat? Yeah, that shit

- A small Lucerne brand coffee creamer. I need this off brand shit for my coffee. So I can stay awake at work while I stay busy pretending to be busy

- Not just one, but two bags of sliced bread.

- 3 international text messages at.60 cents each.

.

Seriously, I could go on forever, but ya’ll get my point


“I coulda been alright by now if it wasn’t for H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S ”

*Monie blows bangs out of her eyes*

Later ya’ll. I know u loved these pics--- especially Khaki dearest :)

Unmotivation, Baby Fever.. eh...

I think I'm going through a point in my life where I'm just... I don't know. I feel unmotivated. And plain fuckin bored. There's so much I want to do that I'm not doing.

For instance, even with this blog. I've slacked off majorly, and I'm mad at myself for that. I wanted to turn this joint into a book by next year, but I dunno. Even now that I do have the time to write I haven't been. I want to publish one of my books or at least start a new one and complete it by next year, but I haven't gotten started.

I just feel stuck in a rut.

I blame the University of Maryland.

Since I've finished I'm just not motivated to write anything. I can't even stand opening a Microsoft Word document beccause I get flashbacks of 25 page papers.

It would be nice if I could have gone away for like 6 months after school finished.

Something's gotta give.

Even certain friendships. I haven't been keeping up with them, but that's mainly because folks got their own shit going on. So I've stayed to myself. Of course this poses a problem, because I'm always alone. I have no human stimulation outside of church on Sundays. My fiancee' doesn't live here , but we're always on the phone or Skype. Therefore, my phone bill is higher than Frankie and Lil Wayne put together.

My friends who do live in this city are always busy. My girls have all started families, and I haven't even seen Pop Pop since I moved down, which is shocking as hell. I guess he just outgrew me or something. *shrug*

Now I see why bitches' biological clocks be ticking. It is my theory that after a certain age people make babies because they get bored with life and want something to do. Dare I say it... having a baby doesn't sound like a bad idea to me these days.

Anywho, stay up ya'll.

I'll be back.