Not Your Last Chance

He is not your last chance at love. Just like the cab that just passed you up and picked up the blonde with the big ta-ta's isn't the last cab in the city. Getting over the mentality of, "This is the last man that you are ever going to love" is easier said than done. You just have to look at in these terms... If that man was your last chance at love, then what a shape the world would be in because only a select few end up marrying and loving their first, second, third, loves of their lives.



My first love was a dapper, handsome young man. He had a way about him that made all the girls smile. He was a ladies man, but I didn't care because he placed me first (yeah, I know young and dumb). He was smart, athletic, and very outgoing. Fast forward to about a month ago. I saw my first love and he was sucking on a crack pipe, married, has a heap of children, and just looked so pitiful that I had to take a second look to make sure it was him. I was shocked at the twist his life has taken. I think he mixed crack with his swagger and smoked them both because he was dead in the eyes. I could've ended up with a crack head as husband; working my fingers to the bones to provide for us. Thank goodness that he wasn't my last chance at love.



My second boyfriend has the cutest dimples I have ever seen. He's tall and muscular because he played football. He has a gentle nature and a wonderful sense of humor. We broke up due to being young and wanting different things. Fast forward to today he is an engineer, a father, and all around good guy. Breaking up with him was hard, but necessary. He is one of my very nearest and dearest friends. We get along now better than ever. I will accept being in his life as a friend. He wasn't my last chance at love only a learning experience to help me in my future relationships.



My ex-boyfriend was from Florida. He was down for just about anything...very spontaneous. We met and a month later he asked me to marry him. Something about his proposal didn't sit right with me. So, I googled his butt and found out that he was married, wanted in several states for non support, didn't have a permanent residence, and was an all around loser. Of course, I packaged up all of my findings into a nice booklet for him with a red bow on the outside, but not before his wife had written me a letter informing me that he was married and a no good husband. I included the letter in the package, as well. He tried to deny, but I was done with him. He was not my last chance at love...He was my first chance at doing 5-10 for assault with a deadly weapon. He almost made me catch a case tryin to pull that cow dung on me.



Just know, ladies, he is not your last chance at love. Letting go is hard, but necessary so that you can find the one that is going to love you as much as you love them.

Vending Machine Massacre

Sammy is hungry. His stomach is growling. He looks in his pocket and he has fifty cents. He continues to work, his stomach continues to growl, churn, and pinch in hunger. Finally, break time comes. Sammy goes to the bathroom and washes his hands. He goes to the vending machine, looks in his pockets and gets his fifty cents, puts his money in the machine, and makes his selection. The wire in the machine turns, but his peanuts do not fall out the machine. Sammy checks his pockets to see if he has anymore money...he's flat broke. Sammy begins to shake the machine gently to dislodge the wire from the peanut bag. He shakes it a little and the bag looks like it is almost going to fall, but it hangs back on the wire. Sammy shakes the machine a little more and again the peanut bag looks like it is going to fall, but doesn't. Sammy shakes the machine again, and again, and again, with every shake his temper seems to rise higher and higher. Sammy shakes the machine so much that candy, chips, and cookies fall out of the wires, but them peanuts are still lodged in. Sammy gets so angry that he begins to kick and cuss the machine slap out...stating that the machine has ripped him off of his last few pennies. Sammy then goes to the office and writes a note, "Jackass, your broke @ss machine ripped me off...I want my money back."

Sammy was mad about fifty cents. He had robbed the machine of other goods, but the fact that the peanuts didn't fall out has him out of this world filled with anger. Sammy places the note on the machine and he begins to kick it and cuss the machine out some more. His break is over, he's still hungry, angry, ripped off, and minus a bag of beloved peanuts.

I have never in my life seen someone act so crazy in my life. I thought this was the funniest thing I have ever laid eyes on. He was so angry, but when he looked at me leaning against the wall with a face full of tears trying to stand up ...he couldn't do anything, but look at himself and laugh. He had to help me back to my workstation I had laughed so much... I guess I found humor at the right time yesterday.

Confession

Why is that what feels good is not always what is right? I found something that feels so good to me, physically at that moment, but I knew it wasn't right. I'm finding myself to be like the same people that I loathe. I loathe people that are merely doing things for the satisfaction of that second, minute, hour, or day...never thinking about what the future may bring. I do not believe that tomorrow in this system of things is promised to me, but I do not believe in putting my chances to see tomorrow in harms way. I live my life a certain way, but I know I could do better. I have fallen into spiritual death and it hurts my soul and I cry at night. I wonder how can I come back from this? How did I let myself die? How did I let my heart become hard toward the One that loved me before I knew there was a me? How did I let it get this bad? I cringe when I see His name...not because of hate, but because I know I have disappointed Him. I am ashamed of my actions, my words, my heart condition. When I go to meet with Him...I hang my head in shame. I go to the that place inside me to try to numb the hurt, but I can't. I don't even know how to communicate with Him anymore. He did nothing, but love me...and yet I found His adversary more worthy of my time and I left Him and hurt His heart. How do I apologize for such a mistake?

Learn from Others

Cher is dating a Sam off and on for quite a few years. Sam is not a good boyfriend. He pays bills, takes care of Cher financially, but as far as being faithful...he just can't seem to keep it in his pants. Sam goes out and makes babies...yes I said babies during his relationship with Cher. Cher just stands steadfast and unmovable in this shipwreck of a relationship with Sam, because in her words, "I love him!" I am a friend to her and I support her and I make a firm policy of not telling my friends to leave their significant others due to the situation could get really messy no matter what advice you give...whether to stay or to go. So, I never offered advice only a listening ear, tissues, and the spare bed....until I get fed up with the tomfoolery then I stop answering my phone, act like I'm not home, and completely remove myself from the situation. I ended up leaving Cher to her sham of a relationship because her relationship problems were working my last nerve.



The straw that broke the camels back for me to remove myself was when Sam took Cher's rent money and got her and her children kicked out of her apartment. Cher had to move in with her mother, her car broke down, and she lost her job. Sam, on the other hand, was riding around in a new car, living with one of his many baby mommas, and working. Cher was still dealing with this fool even through him getting her and her children evicted. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave her to her foolishness.



Cher calls me at work one day and is crying sayin that Sam has married one of his many baby mommas. I started laughing. She gets all upset at me for laughing, but I told her, "The boy has done everything, but pulled his pants down and literally taken a isht on you, and you have continued to take him back. I guess he showed you that he really really doesn't want you at all." She gets angry with me and stops talking to me.





Last week I go to see her because she was on my mind. She tells me that her and Sam have continued to see each other even though he is married. Sam left his wallet at her house and she took his ATM card and cleaned him out of every thing, but a dollar. Cher then took his wallet to his wife's job and dropped it off, along with some clothes, and other belongings he had left at her house. I asked Cher what changed to make her do that. Cher said she wasn't angry, but she had enough of the nonsense. While shes telling me this story Sam pulls up in his truck. Sam only has on some socks, boxers, and he's covered in syrup and feathers. Dude looked like a black rooster. He was yelling and screaming and carrying on something awful. Cher called the police and the police came and took him to jail. Now, he is sitting in jail full of feathers and syrup, with some socks and boxers on, broke, and his pimping ways ain't working to get on of the women that he has used to come get him. Steve McNair situation obviously didn't teach that boy nothing.

Lesson Learned: Sometimes its better to cut your losses then to continue to use people...because eventually they will teach you that doo doo does indeed stank and they will rub your nose in the doo doo.

I aint Shackin

As of today(Now that could change tomorrow if Idris Elba or Bill Gates asks me to shack...then you can forget what you are about to read because I'm going to be shacking somebody), I am totally against shacking/living with a man not because of moral fiber or strong conviction. I am against it because I don't want to have to share my food, electricity, cable, bed and other life necessities with someone that is not legally obligated to replenish what they use. I have children that are using my food, electricity, cable, free room and board and they are not legally obligated to contribute other than keeping things clean. Trying to get them to keep their spaces clean is like getting Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston to admit they were both crackheads...it just aint happening. Why in the world would I open up my home to the option that a man might not feel the need to contribute then have to go through the process of putting him and his junk out.





I will just remain sane and in the comforts of my own dwelling. He can stay in the comforts of his own dwelling as well. I have lived with squatters before and it is not the business. It is not fun. People blame alot of crazy, irrational behavior on love. Love has never owed me rent money, pissed on my toilet and not wiped it off, ate the last of the Keebler Elf cookies, spilled something in the microwave and didn't clean it up, turned every light on in the house and is standing outside, or just in general been disrespectful to me. I look at Love in a whole new light when people talk about me having to share a dwelling with someone. I look at things sensibly. If it looks like I'm going to get the short end of the stick...then I won't even pick the stick up and tease myself. What is your opinion on shacking?

Are you friggin Serious

Today's post will be random situations that made me scratch my head and ask "Are you friggin serious?"



Amy's hubby has told her that the recession has strapped them for cash and he can no longer afford to have her sitting at home. Amy says okay and begins her search for a job. According to her she had two job offers to start back working. She had a job at a clinic and a job at distributor. She chose to say "nay" to both jobs and to clean houses for 20.00/week. Yeah, a whopping 20.00/week. Her thought is that her business will build. I had to inform Amy that we are in a recession and that working families are not spending extra money on luxuries such as housekeepers. Her hubby is so mad hes bout ready to chew nails. I tell her that perhaps she should get a part time job and then do her house cleaning on the side. Amy replied that I was just a hater and trying to kill her dream and that her hubby was okay with the situation...and all I can do is look at her and say, "Are you friggin serious?"



Troy calls me on the phone and asked me out for drinks. I get all dolled up because I am a fox when I get dressed. I get to the bar. Troy is looking amazingly cute with his nice slacks, button down shirt, and Doc Martens. He has already ordered my favorite drink. We sit and we begin to talk and he seems like something is bothering him. He begins to talk about his family and how his dad and he have a very volatile and complicated relationship. I'm half @ssed listening because I'm more interested in getting all the free drinks I can before he realizes how much these drinks cost. As I'm signalling to the bartender to freshen my drink; I look up. Troy has tears running down his face. I look at my drink and check my pulse to see if I am totally zonked or if this fool is truly in tears. He starts sobbing loudly. I grab some napkins wipe his tears, sit him up, and tell him to stop making a scene. He says to the top of his booming voice, "Daddy, your gonna love me!" I down my drink and walk toward the door...turn around and look and ask, "Are you friggin serious?"



Anne is dating Larry. Larry is tall, dark, handsome, smells good, and well spoken. Larry is treating Anne like a queen. The relationship goes on for months. She finally brings Larry around our inner circle. When I met Larry, I was floored at how beautiful this man was. He didn't say much...just a few hello's nothing major. Our inner circle starts clowning around and Larry begins to laugh and his false teeth fly out of his mouth and land on the floor next to the coffee table. Anne looks at me and begs me not to say anything...and all I can do is look at her and say, "Are you serious? You want me to pass on a joke like this?".....