<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:13:27.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dailies</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a trial journal, because I don't know what in the heck I'm doing.  This journal could be a good thing for me because there are things I want to say to people sometime, but not neccessarily to their faces so this can be an outlet for me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112810388760268366</id><published>2005-09-30T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T11:11:27.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every Thang Is Every Thang......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear Michael Baisden say that all of the time and I finally feel him on it today.  I finally gave ole boy the axe.  I've been playing the cowardly lioness role for the past month, but it's a done deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been at aplace in your life where things just seem to be falling into place.  You they say if you have patience good things will come.  Well, lets just say I've been trying to live by this rule and it seems like things are coming along good.  Not to say that my struggling is done but life is full of no drama (as of today).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Referencing Dramaqueens blog I was a yes woman when it came to men, as far as MBD and my now ex-boyfriend.  I'm tired to settling with these jokers and so i'm saying F them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Thang Is Every Thang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the nicest BM out of five I settled in finances, but when I put my foot down a year ago, the $h!t got taken care of.  He (MBD) tried his damndest to take advantage of my love for him, but he doesn't have that control any more and with this new bid(ex-boyfriend) just as quick as he flew in the jet is flying back out just that fast.  I feel so light on my feet now that this relationship BS and the Child Support BS is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Thang Is Every Thang...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112810388760268366?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112810388760268366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112810388760268366' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112810388760268366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112810388760268366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/every-thang-is-every-thang.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112800120843257445</id><published>2005-09-29T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T06:40:08.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's funny, as I was reading my friends blog today I thought about how MBD glorifies Young Geezy's CD.  Praising this man who obviously ani't get enough love from his momma and/or aunties that he doesn't seem to respect woman that much.  I haven't heard his CD, but MBD specifically said I need to listen to track 16.  Proceeding to tell me I need a thug in my life and that I would relate to the song.  Well, maybe I missed something in my life, cause I didn't grow up in the ghetto, I haven't hustled on the GRIND to get my DOE, and I don't talk about &lt;a href="mailto:F@$^ing"&gt;F@$^ing&lt;/a&gt; broads.  Heheheh :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though MBD does not always make smart personal choices.  He is book smart though so what is it about men wanting to be thugs or even wanting to associate with the lifestyle as if it is a positive thing.  Don't get me wrong I don't want a man that is a punk(meaning, he doesn't have a back bone, let people talk to him any kind of way, and also be willing to stand up for his woman.)  On the flip side I don't wan t him smacking me up, or IGNORING me as Geezy says on the &lt;em&gt;Shake It Off &lt;/em&gt;remix for Mariah Carey's song he's on with Jay-Z.  Also to include on his attempt to not respect women or to glorify his thugness he has a song where he talks about hitting(sexually) a woman and sending her ass back to her real man so that he can eat the pu-tang.  Cause Young Geezy don't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh pleeze I am about tired of him.  What is happening to these men that they feel they would rather profit off of degrating women, instead of getting middle class profit for empowering our youth to keep on fighting for our rights so that after we are gone us as black people can still have a race on this continent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this talk about these rappers and what they do to sell records also has me thinking about why is it that they feel they need to go from one extreme to another.  For example going from hustlin on the block and living in the 9th ward of New Orleans to living out in Beverly Hills.  Why is it that our poorest people don't recognize that money can't bring you happiness.  It can take some stress off of things, but it won't make you complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about working your way to money, so that we appreciate the riches of the success.  Too many of these artist, and atheletes(sp)  get too much at one time and they mentally are not reading for all of the responsibility.  I could go on for days about how we continue to trap ourselves but i'll stop while i'm ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112800120843257445?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112800120843257445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112800120843257445' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112800120843257445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112800120843257445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/its-funny-as-i-was-reading-my-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112785005145098701</id><published>2005-09-27T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T12:40:51.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Man I got the beegee's so bad today.  Maybe it's me but it seems like everyday after lunch time I get all backed up and bubbly.  And for those who finds this utterly disgusting i'm sorry, but I think I have a gastric problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit at my desk and I am hoping no one can hear me let out my little air bubbles, or for that much see me slightly lift so I can get that air from under me. HAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No seriously though...when Oprah said not to eat anything white including pasta I should listen because I do think that pasta is the source of my BG's.  But OOH how I love my pasta this is something I am not excited about giving up.  I will have to start eating brown noodles and i've tried that...it's nasty.  But then again maybe it will help me loose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think that the reason why I have this gut is because I have all of this air just sittin parlaying up in my stomach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could just pop this balloon and let it all out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112785005145098701?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112785005145098701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112785005145098701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112785005145098701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112785005145098701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/man-i-got-beegees-so-bad-today.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112782099785957624</id><published>2005-09-27T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T04:36:37.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Today is a new day, don't be having no attitude, don't let your boss control your mood, be kind to those who frown upon you, &lt;em&gt;killing them with kindness.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I set out to work on my new personality.  For some reason I wake up angry at every one and everything in my path.  Still mad from the day before at work.  Most of the people here are some of the coolest and funniest people, but then again they are men an I don't have to deal with too much female attitude.  However when it rains it pours.  My boss has enough attitude to last you a damn year.  It is spawned out of jealousy, because she is in her mid 50's lonely, her only daughter doesn't come home because she don't wanto deal with her and she takes it out on the staff.  We have tried to come up with some plan to hook her up with one of our uncles, but decided they would all come back and kick our ass if we put them any where with her.  Sometimes I think she might be the devil him/herself.  She kills everything she comes near or touches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;SOOO...today i'll start anew hoping that my new attitude may change some elses.  Anything to keep the grymreper(sp) away from me and off my behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Every one else have a GREEEAT DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112782099785957624?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112782099785957624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112782099785957624' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112782099785957624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112782099785957624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/today-is-new-day-dont-be-having-no.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112748828475074042</id><published>2005-09-23T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T08:11:24.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;It is finally friday and I couldn't be happier. It is the closing of week three attending Wayne State University.  I don't know what I have gotten myself into, but i'm beginning to feel a little overwelmed.  Friday is no class HOORAY so today i'm good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;This new &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:B!@$h"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;B!@$h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; on the path of destruction( Rita) is causing may heme and grief for those people living on the gulf.  I really believe that all of these weather changes starting with the tsunami is going to be very critical as the years go on.  I just think we as human beings need to get on the ball and start changing things around such as our values.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Maybe it's me but I find it kind of strange that they hit the gulf states Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, especially flooding that state where the oil riggs and gas is being pump for and Mississippi where they built all of the Casino's(gambling)  I think he's(GOD) trying to tell us something.  Because now this storm is heading to one of the biggest refineries in our county right there in the &lt;em&gt;HEART OF TEXAS.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;On a lighter note it's FRIDAY....HEY! And I am chillin at work today.  So have a good weekend all and I'll holla when I get time next week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Love, Peace, &amp;amp; Hair grease&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112748828475074042?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112748828475074042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112748828475074042' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112748828475074042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112748828475074042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/it-is-finally-friday-and-i-couldnt-be.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112680273018582084</id><published>2005-09-15T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T09:45:30.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;MEME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TEN YRS AGO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ten years ago I was a freshman in High School, not really looking forward to going to the school that was chosen for me.  I dated a few guys because I was definitly boy crazy at that time.  As a result of this, by the end of the school year I had lost my Virginity.  You know the story I was a freshman, he was a Senior/Basketball Star of the school.  And at the time I felt like I had to share my gift in order to continue attention from him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE YRS AGO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I was eight months pregnant with my beautiful baby girl and had a support team out of this world.  I felt truely blessed at this time in my life.  I recieved abundant support and help from my family and friends through this new journey I was about to embark on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;ONE YEAR AGO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I moved to a suburb in the metro Detroit area, started a new life, met new people, got introduced to my long lost half aunt whom I have never met, and began a new JOB (I use that term loosely) with a fortune 500 company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE SNACK I LIKE...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Reese's cup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Slim Jim's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;chocolate turtles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;teddy grahm's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;sour pickles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE SONGS I KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You Use To Love Me-Faith Evans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Dear Mama-2Pac&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Whole album of Alicia Keys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Lover's and Friends-Lil' Jon, Usher, Ludacris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Gone-Monica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;WHAT I WOULD DO WITH $100 MIL...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Make sure my immediate family is taken care of (debts paid, ect..) they have capital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Buy several low income houses and flip them buy upgrading appliances, ect....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Definitly put away at least $20 Million for my Poo Poo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Hook close friends up, maybe all expense paid vacation for three months traveling the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Adopt poverty stricken families and put them onthe right path, gettnig the the assistance they need for careers, education for children, and to make sure their livig conditions are up to Par.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE PLACES TO RUNAWAY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I do onot have a special place or any special places.  (I'm a Gypsy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE THINGS I WOULD NEVER WEAR...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Real Fur (that wearing an actual animal freaks me out)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Original cowboy boots (you know with that funny lookin heal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Cornrows (like Cleo in set it off)  NOT IN PUBLIC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Fake gold Jewelry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Daisy Dukes (that was before I became a mother)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE FAVORITE TV SHOWS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Girlfriends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Soul Food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Medium&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Dead Zone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE BIGGEST JOYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;JP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Family (they are crazy!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Professional Massages (all over the body)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Having someone just as in love with you if not more than you are with them (never had but i'm sure it would be a joy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Life (being able to express and experience different emotions)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FIVE FAVORITE TOYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Video Camera (touch screen)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Cell Phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;OH HELL! I really don't have toys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;5 PEOPLE TO PASS THIS ON TO...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;None!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I've been tagged...and responded in 24hrs...I'm good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112680273018582084?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112680273018582084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112680273018582084' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112680273018582084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112680273018582084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/09/meme-ten-yrs-ago-ten-years-ago-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112491727061041151</id><published>2005-08-24T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T14:01:10.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why do big corporations always step on the damn little people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you work for a fortune 500 company corporate always find a way to make the little people(not corporate) feel little.  Making you work over time with no over time pay,and telling you it's mandatory to come to work on a saturday when the business only runs monday thru friday.  Man, what kind of shit is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so tired of working for "THE MAN."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn't for the people I work with I would go crazy. They are the only ones that have me up in here weak laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness i'm off tomorrow, because my boss comes back to work and I don't want to be here when she gets to nuttin up(detroit slang).  I will be taking my baby to kindergarten for her first day, and chillin the rest of the day after that.  Oh and beleive me I am looking for that relaxation time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112491727061041151?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112491727061041151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112491727061041151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112491727061041151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112491727061041151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/08/why-do-big-corporations-always-step-on.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112421497307561963</id><published>2005-08-16T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T10:56:13.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alright, so despite my feelings about ole boy I went to see him thursday night.  Thank goodness Big Red was in town because I don't want any sexual contact with him at this point.  Of course when he ask me if my guest was here and I said, "yes" his dumb ass asked me was I sure like I was lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really give me a break even if I was lying which I wasn't he is not going to want to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with these guys today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to some great talk radio yesturday, the guys name is Micheal Baisdon.  He has the most contriversal and intriging conversations dealing with grown folks.  Hince the name of the show is call Grown folks radio.  I thinks his show is out of NY, but for my Cincinnatians he just got a spot on the BUZZ so check him out. But any way yesturday his topic dealt with relationships and consistency.  How men and women need to keep up some kind of consistency in the relationship whether it be how often you have sex or how often you go out to dinner.  That if the level of consistency does not last up to six months there could be a sign of what's to come in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to thinking of how myself as well as my friend have lacked in being consistent.  We used to go out every Weds. or Thurs., in the beginning the sex was alright(it has never been the greatest) but even he has slacked off on that, and the "you're so beautiful" comments I use to get throughtout the day have stopped.  Now I personally believed that I have slacked off due to his inconsistency but then again you know how that is(seeing it from your side of the mirror).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is the deal?  Is being inconsistent a sign of which direction your relationship will go being good or bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you have something new that has come into your life that is taking up your attention and time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112421497307561963?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112421497307561963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112421497307561963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112421497307561963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112421497307561963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/08/alright-so-despite-my-feelings-about.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112377258672015151</id><published>2005-08-11T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T08:03:06.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So why do I continue to deal with the dumb shhhh.  I mean I know my feelings for this person, and he is clearly not the one for me.  The answer to why is...I don't know maybe to pass the time while i'm here in this foreign city.  His personality is blan at times, his sense of humor is dry &amp; dumb, the sex is boring, he's not warm and fuzzy with my child.  HE'S JUST NOT BOYFRIEND OR HUSBAND MATERIAL. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that when we went to Chicago two weekends ago that things would change, but NO he got on my NERVES.  For one, he didn't have any directions on how to get there, He was trying to drive all the way to Chicago without stopping and feeding me, and then he tried to blame the fact that we got lost on me.  DUMMY didn't nobody tell you to go to Chicago without directions, at least I tried to get dirctions.  They just happen to be at the wrong Dowtown Marriott.  I mean really how was I suppose to know that there would be several in the downtown area.  But anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got settled in the correct Marriott on the Magnificent Mile(Kudos to him)  I asked him what his plan was,&lt;em&gt; mind you he invited me on the trip&lt;/em&gt;, and he didn't even have a plan.  Talking about lets walk.  As we got to walking I noticed we had no destination.  So I asked him where we were going and he was like, "oh I was just walking."  WALKING WHERE?  OH HELL NO!  I don't just walk without knowing where i'm walking to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he thought this weekend was just going to be sex in the room all weekend, but I had another thing coming for homeboy.  Cause we hadn't had sex in weeks it's too WACK so I dragged him out to the Navy Pier and let him spend some money.  Okay maybe I shouldn't sound so cold but i'm sorry he got on my nerves THE WHOLE WEEKEND.  And the drama continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now today we are suppose to go to the Michigan State Fair, but do I really want to go?  DAMN I don't know what to do about this boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112377258672015151?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112377258672015151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112377258672015151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112377258672015151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112377258672015151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/08/so-why-do-i-continue-to-deal-with-dumb.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112315756765629263</id><published>2005-08-04T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T05:12:47.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Goodmorning!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Not quite sure if it's a good morning or not, but it always sounds nice.  The weekend is almost here which means this 40 hour work week is coming to an end.  I don't know...it's something about the word work that drains you.  I could be energetic and up beat in the morning before arriving to work and as soon as I get in the building my eyes start to droop and I get sleepy again.  I mean it's not even like I do hard labor work it's just the business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And all they do is gossip about Suzy. Suzy is pregnant and sleeping with Kwame(fictional characters) and Kwame is sleeping with Juanita.  Suzy and Juanita are friends and she's giving Suzy a baby shower. However, Juanita just found out that Suzy is carrying Kwame's baby.  Kwame and Juanita was living together for a while and he kicked her out and moved Suzy in.  Then Kwame gets fired so now he doesn't have a job and they all work for the same company and work the same postion in the company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now ain't that so bulls***.  The funny thing is that they are fictional names but the situation is true and it is al around the Metro Detroit Market in which they worked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It's ashame when old single ladies have nothing better to do than talked about other peoples Fudged up situations.  While they sit at home lonely every night eating Haag and Daz Ice Cream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I pray to God i don't end up like that at fourty or fifty plus with no life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Well, i'm leaning on one arm while answering the phones and I am getting sleepy again.  I guess that means it time for me to find something to do.  Looks like it's going to be a good morning after all because my boss is off today.  HoooRAy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112315756765629263?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112315756765629263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112315756765629263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112315756765629263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112315756765629263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/08/goodmorning-not-quite-sure-if-its-good.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112291973483991833</id><published>2005-08-01T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T11:08:54.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;TOTAL NUMBER OF BOOKS OWNED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Wow!  I can't count myself how many.  I still have books from my childhood that i'm still holding on to for my baby.  It's fun reading books from my childhood to her, because I know most of them by heart.  Not to mention I have books that people have borrowed and I have not gotten back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;LAST BOOK I BOUGHT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Toni Morrison's &lt;em&gt;Love  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;LAST BOOK I READ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eric Jerome Dickey's Thieves&lt;em&gt; Paradise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;BOOK I AM CURRENTLY READING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E. Lynn Harris &lt;em&gt;What becomes of the Brokenhearted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;FIRST MEMORY OF A BOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Amelia Badelia Plays Baseball.  That was one of my very first books that I can remember reading and being read to as a child.  My mother used to read a book or two almost every night.  Maybe that's why I have always loved reading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;5 BOOKS THAT MEAN A LOT TO ME...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Please Baby Please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Coldest Winter Ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Kindred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Bible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The African American Cookbook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;BOOKS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO CONSUME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gineave(sp) &lt;/em&gt;Eric Jerome Dickey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Drive Me Crazy &lt;/em&gt;(EJD)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;BOOKS THAT ARE UNDERRATED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Bad Girlz  Shannon Holmes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;B-More Careful (SH)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;All That And A Bag Of Chips Darrien Lee (matter of fact all books by Darrien Lee)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;BOOKS THAT ARE OVERRATED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Toni Morrison's  &lt;em&gt;Love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eric Jerome Dickey's  &lt;em&gt;Cheeters&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;There are other I just can't think right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112291973483991833?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112291973483991833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112291973483991833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112291973483991833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112291973483991833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/08/total-number-of-books-owned-wow-i-cant_01.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112073919445045748</id><published>2005-07-07T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T05:26:34.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It is such a beautiful morning in Michigan today...not too hot, but luke warm. The sun is shining, and it actually feels good in the office as well. It's not cold like it ususally is, because everyone in this place has hot flashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much going on today, however yesturday I did go see &lt;em&gt;War of the Worlds &lt;/em&gt;and I must say Tom did an excellent job in this movie. Everything was exhillirating, funny, and sad, but the ending was sooooo lame.  But what was funny was I left out to go to the restroom, and when I came back I sat in the wrong seat.  When I sat next to this man I just started talking and he was looking at me like &lt;em&gt;where in the hell did you come from.  &lt;/em&gt;So I try again to find my seat and I sit next to this couple.  By this time I am laughing, because it was so ridiculous that I couldn't find my seat so I looked right in front of me and say my date.  I tapped him on the shoulder and whisper, "I went up too far."  He chuckled a little but I was laughing my ass off.  I thought it was so funny and it was hard for me to stop laughing at myself.  I was embarrassing but funny non the less.  I'm laughing now just telling this story. Lolololololol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recieved some of my grades from summer term and they are looking good. A's abd B's.  I did get one C, however I thought I was going to get a D because it was Intro to Logic (philosphy) and I was really struggling in that class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112073919445045748?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112073919445045748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112073919445045748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112073919445045748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112073919445045748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/07/it-is-such-beautiful-morning-in.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112066826161922896</id><published>2005-07-06T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T09:44:21.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Last night I had a dream about Oprah. We were at some type of an affair, and she knew who I was. She called me over to her by name and we posed for pictures, Oprah, My daughter, and myself. And out of no where I start to whisper in her ear a pitch about a spin off show for when she retires. The show idea was a hit and I pligged myself as being a behind the scene producer of the show, but Oprah insisted on me being the host.  &lt;em&gt;I know right...I was dreaming big time.&lt;/em&gt;  But if you're going to dream why not dream big.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My day will come.  I spend so many nights being undecided about what road my life will take, only to start back at nothing.  &lt;em&gt;Aries &lt;/em&gt;is such a scatterbrain.  This doesn't help me, because I can always start something and never finish.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Do you ever wonder what people will say about you when you die?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Will they say, &lt;em&gt;Oh such and such was such a nice person, who always knew what their mission in life was....&lt;/em&gt;or will they say...&lt;em&gt;such and such didn't know what inthe hell they were doing in life.  They didn't know their ass from their front teeth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I mean really who wants to be remembered as someone with no action plan in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm 25 and I feel like i'm 45 without a clue about what life is really about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have family and friends love me and care about me cause there is a difference, I have friends and family who may care but not nessasrily love. Yet I still feel lonely.  I have a boyfriend, although I still feel like i'm single.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;What in the HELL is that about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112066826161922896?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112066826161922896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112066826161922896' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112066826161922896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112066826161922896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/07/last-night-i-had-dream-about-oprah.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112056395577839785</id><published>2005-07-05T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T04:45:55.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;It is 7:30 in the morning and I'm sitting at my desk.  This is too damn early to be at work.  I don't know why they ask me to be here so early when it ain't shit to do.  My family reunion is on friday and I have to ask my boss to leave early that day.  I hope she don't "nut up" (detroit slang) cause it is her first day back from vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;This weekend was like any other weekend, &lt;em&gt;I stayed in the house for most of it.  &lt;/em&gt;I guess the best thing that came out of this weekend was to spend more time with my baby, but other than that it was pretty boring.  I wonder sometimes, &lt;em&gt;what is the point in having a boyfriend if you're always at home?&lt;/em&gt;  Shouldn't he be taking me out and going to festivals together.  I mean really what is up with that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;I'm in one of my moods and &lt;em&gt;anti-social &lt;/em&gt;is it's name.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Do you ever feel like no one understands you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;You have friends, but no one you can talk to, because everyone is so judgemental.  They might not tell you to your face, but it lingers in the back of their minds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Why do we judge one another?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Why are black people are own worse enemy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;And why can't I eat a whole cherry cheese cake without gaining weight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Why can't we all just be fat and out of shape?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112056395577839785?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112056395577839785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112056395577839785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112056395577839785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112056395577839785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/07/it-is-730-in-morning-and-im-sitting-at.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112031820838010031</id><published>2005-07-02T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T08:30:08.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Man yesturday was soooo crazy at work.  All of our computers were down, and lord knows it's hard getting throughthe day without the internet.   But Detroit is so cheap that it takes two days just to bring the power back up.  Somedays I like it here and others I hate it.  That Detroit mentality is enough to drive you crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Today is no better than yesturday.  It's only 11:28 am and already it's starting out on a bad note.  Whoever is over Nextel Communications is a dumb ass.  I can't place not one outgoing call and when people call me it's dead silent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112031820838010031?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112031820838010031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112031820838010031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112031820838010031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112031820838010031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/07/man-yesturday-was-soooo-crazy-at-work.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112014738079808347</id><published>2005-06-30T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T09:03:00.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;   Okay I have thirty minutes left and i am sooo ready to go.  I use to think that I was a people person but everyday I deal with customers I find out that i'm not, because they get on my damn nerves.  Sometime I want to tell these customers to kiss my ass, because they expect you to have the answers to every f-ing problem that they have.  Shit it's thursday I ain't on it today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;   One upside of work this week is that my boss is on vacation.  She's still inthe city but she is out of the building and that is all I care about.  She need to be on somebdies Island getting her groove back.  Just don't bring them home with you or they'll use you and then tell you they're gay after they gain citizenship.(SORRY TERRY)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;    Well I think it's about time for me to clean house.  You know let some people go that have done nothing but brought me down.  You know it is really hard to let go of someone you have called your friend for years.  You have practically grown up together, but I can't have negativity in my house.  I will only keep those who are loyal, who will have my back during the rough times, who will not be my "YES" crew(keep it real), and who values friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;   Is it twelve thirty yet...Caramba! Yo tengo hambra y sed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112014738079808347?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112014738079808347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112014738079808347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112014738079808347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112014738079808347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/06/okay-i-have-thirty-minutes-left-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112013475256419640</id><published>2005-06-30T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T05:32:32.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    Can't complain today, i'm off to a good start.  Although, I had a terrible dream last night about death.  The death of myself as well as others that are close to me.  Of course there is always a miscellaneous person in your dream that you never seen before, he died too.  Some white guy who look a lot like Micheal Keaton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    I have come to the conclusion that I will only put 50% into this new relationship, because I don't know where it is going.  One day I dig him and everything he is about and then the next thing I know i'm having second thought about even persuing the relationship even further.  I mean I don't want to waste my time if my feelings are starting to dwindle.  Seriously, he has no clue about the responsibilities of a boyfriend are.  He wants to just go with the flow.  Well, while we're going with the flow someone else could be out there flowing by me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    Who knows, maybe it's too early in the game for me to determine how it will turn out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    On a happier note there is only one more day until friday, and well lets just say this weeked is going to be OFF THE CHAIN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112013475256419640?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112013475256419640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112013475256419640' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112013475256419640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112013475256419640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/06/cant-complain-today-im-off-to-good.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14056330.post-112007102310540585</id><published>2005-06-29T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T11:50:23.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I won't bi!$h too much today, but I will say that I am so tired mentally,  physically, and emotionally.  My mental exhaustion comes from school no matter how many people encourage me to go on I get discouraged because I feel that I should have a had a degree or two by now.  Physically tired, and don't have the will or energy to workout.  And everyday I feel myself inching out of clothes that I could wear two weeks prior.  And last i am emotionally tired of men who don't met my expectations.  I mean really do I Have to be your girl and your mama too, and what's up with men being Drama KINGS, there is only roon for one.  My boyfriend now is okay, but he needs grooming in the relationship department.  He is sweet, opens the door for me (a real gentleman),  and supportive at times (not always). But it is draining and I don't want to give up on this ne relationship because he has alot of qualities that I have looked for in a man.  I need a vacation from everything and everyone&lt;em&gt;. Calgon take me away.....PLEASE!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14056330-112007102310540585?l=twfr4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/feeds/112007102310540585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14056330&amp;postID=112007102310540585' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112007102310540585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14056330/posts/default/112007102310540585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twfr4.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-wont-bih-too-much-today-but-i-will.html' title=''/><author><name>jmama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05296677877684274043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
