Me and my life

*Cross your fingers that I'm going to St Louis this fall. I neeeed to go. Why?
1 I haven't left this state in over 2 years.
2 I don't really know Kesi's family and I would like to.
3 its a wedding, and I love weddings! Love, a party, and free drinks and cake? I'm there, thanks.
4 I'll have somewhere to wear my dress that's just sitting, waiting to be loved. I don't believe in that white after labor day falderall. That's right I said falderall.
5 maybe I'm old enough to go on a casino boat now!

Kesi and I need a break! And I hear the crack headed girlfriend is out of the picture. The one who, last time I went to STL decided to announce to people I just met that she gave Kesi and I condoms. Yeah, I can do without her.

*So people at my job are really irking me these past couple of days. Remember waay back in like 2006, when I was talking about the guy who decided to ask me if "your man let you out the house in those pants?" Johnny is his name. Well when I went to the gift shop he was like "oh I see they made you change." and I told him nicely to keep my ass out his mouth before I replace it with my foot. Over time I really started to see his chauvinistic ways, as we have gotten into it (politely) about what he feels is a "woman's place." its not at all surprising to me that he's single.

So Wednesday, I'm sitting in the cafeteria on the computer looking at blogs. My friend Lewis and I were laughing at Durty Mo's site, when Johnny comes up and starts looking too. After Lewis leaves, and Johnny heads for the door, he said "I see your man is letting you wear those pants again." oh, really? So I let him have it.

"no man, not my boyfriend, my father, especially not you, has ANY control over what I do with my ass and what I put on it. You have been saying this to me for years and I told you to let it go. Its a tired joke and I never found it funny." oh, and when I get mad, I get loud. And did I mention we were in the caf? So he hits me with "ima leave you alone because I see you're sensitive about it." nigga what? "yeah. I am. I don't know what time you live in but today, a man does not 'let' a woman do anything. So you can 'let' that shit go." and I walked off. I mean he had me boiling. And for the record, I do believe that he's making these comments because he likes what he sees. Which is just plain harassment, because either they look and don't say anything, or they say, "you look nice today Joy. No one has made any adverse comments about the appropriateness of my uniform. I've been wearing them on and off since 05. He's lucky I don't report him.

*Then, yesterday, Green Card decides that she wants attention. She sees me reading the paper (google Lavonia, Ga, AJC, and Hostage, 3 Years to see what I was reading.i It is a very interesting article) and she called my name. Still reading, I say, "yes?" I guess that wasn't enough because she gets right in my face (I was leaning sideways over the counter) and starts banging on the paper saying, "listen to me!" heffa how OLD are you? At this point I look her dead in the face and tell her to stop. She then proceeds to smack the paper some more, smiling playfully the whole time. "answer me!" "Green, if you don't get away from me acting like a violent child..." my face was close enough to the paper that she could have hit me in the nose and it would have been on. All she wanted was to know my middle name. Isn't that the kind of question one could answer without having to devote absolute attention to the asker? "chantelle." "oh. What's wrong with you?" oh I'm sorry I would rather read than apease your crazy-ass cry for attention. She does it all the time and I'm over it. I am pretty sure I would have laid hands on her if she would have accidentally hit me. Not too much though. I need my job and I don't think any of yall have time to make "FREE JOY" shirts.

*so as not to choke a bitch, I left work early. I had already asked to go home because I was feeling "cranky" and it was dead slow. So I send Kesi a text telling him I'm heading to the house. "you walked? Its dark out!" he hates for me to walk in the dark, and so do I, because I am small and defenseless, except my knife and a short stint as a track runner. I explained to him that it was dusk and that I had to get home to put some work into the blanket I'm making. "I'm cranking out the hits." he replies, "you're like the Dr Dre of arts and crafts, lol." what? I guess he meant I'm in demand and dedicated to my work. I'll take it.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile