Ask Ella: Who Should Care?

   

  "I told her, that even though it's her birthday... it doesn't really affect anyone else. It's not a holiday. And that's what I said, cuz that's how I felt," I explained. As I retold it, it sounded cold, but sometimes facts feel like that. Are my feelings wrong if they hurt someone else's feelings? Or is it now that person's personal problem? 

"You probably shouldn't have said that," he told me and he's the only one who tells me the truth. I can't say that he was right... it did need to be said. It just wasn't nice, is all. Now, before I can have a conversation with a person, it feels like run my thoughts by a third party and re-adjust my real. "Don't say all that," Carl told me. But I fear it's the things you shouldn't say that matter the most. "I know why you said what you did. Believe me, I do," she wrote to me, 2 years later. "What was more upsetting was the way you went about it." I was too public. I should keep more secrets. I should tell people, privately, what everyone says behind their backs. I should watch how much I blog. I should be careful who reads this. I should remind everyone I've been the same mhhfcka since '88. 

              I usually feel like I'm the only one actually willing to have a real conversation. It's usually me staring blank-face at someone with my head tilted and asking, "well..." while they shrug and pretend to not understand whatever language I speaking in. Either that, or people sit across tables from me --or across invisible wires -- and try to explain to me how whatever they wanted me to do, I didn't do and that's why they're upset. We seem to have these scripts in our heads and expect people to fit neatly into them. When they don't we assume that person has acted improperly, when in fact... we might have simply casted wrong. I have less and less and less friends as the days go by, it seems. Sometimes, it happens like that. Sometimes, I prefer it that way. I went home last week and gave Kay K the biggest attitude because she had borrowed my sweater, but she wasn't home the next day before I left. I usually leave without saying a word to anyone, but I decided not to be fcked up to her. I was just upset she wasn't there. I was also upset I was thrown off my schedule. But... that has nothing to do with her and, in fact, really wasn't that big of a deal. Mid-Traffic, I had to pull up my message and sent by boo a sweet apology. She never tripped on me and that's because of the only reason we're friends, Kay K loves me. In the fashion of a true high-school love story, I lost my best friends the summer I met Kay K because Kay K showed me, in three months, love I had never felt in 13 years. The most painful lesson I learned is that if you don't know any better, you settle for the worst. 

            Most times, I'm the worst. Single me likes to ask why I'm single (along with single everyone else), and I realize I don't even give hope. I ignore the men who look my way. When they put on enough pressure to get my phone number, I cross my fingers and hope the conversation will make it 24 hours. I never want to see them again. They're never as handsome as they sound. I don't actually like "friends" or rappers who think rhymes can get my panties off (I'm very judgmental about rhymes & I pull mine to the side). I never know who thinks they have a chance with me and it usually ends after the third or fourth text message when I tell exactly which games I am not here to play. One one hand, I'm a completely cold, thorough and badass btch.

          Sometimes, I'm the absolute best. It's scary to be. As I fumble my way through the music, I've found that relationships and artistry take much of the same path --one learns and matures. In both love and music, I've learned what I am good at, what I need improvement in, what I aim to accomplish and the sht I'll never do again. In both music and love, I've learned that I need to give my all. Even if I feel like I'm not enough... like I might fall short, I give myself with complete confidence in who I am because... baby, I refuse to let that change. We're all such particular people, you can't count on the next person understanding anything you feel. In competition, this becomes an advantage. There are things in music that I'm willing to try... even if others are not. There are things in a relationship I'm willing to do, even if others are not. The story though, is yours. Or rather, mine. I've stopped speaking so much. It's true, we all have "flaws," but those flaws are determined in the eyes of others. So when you tell a person your story, you can't be sure what they consider to be a good or bad thing. That is your story. Not only does that person have no experience with it, but God didn't want them to. What do they know? People don't know anything, especially when they think they do. It's how people think they know everything about you if they know your middle name and favorite color.  

        The truth is, no one cares. No one cares about you, they only see the world through their eyes. They only see how it will benefit them. It doesn't matter. Keep being a good person. Still, take note of how people treat you. Not everyone will be as loving, as caring, as honest or pure as you are in your intentions. But when you realize that, give yourself a little bit of respect and remove yourself. You can cut these relationships when you are sure that you've done that person no wrong. Even more so, you can probably point out the things you've done for that person while they say over and over how they were your "friend". You don't have to wait for people to hurt you to remove them from your life, you should hope to be wise enough to know when that relationship simply isn't headed in the right direction. This isn't a cause for war or argument. You shouldn't expect anything in return for your love, but you deserve it. Everyone has their limit, establish yours. 

        Here's the real truth: I'm so tired. I'm tired of the lazy applause. I'm tired of people silently adding up the coins in my pocket, never taking the time to open my mail. I'm tired of people wanting to use me for the nothing I have. I'm tired of being underestimated. I'm tired of pretending like I have time for people. I'm tired of people asking when we're going to get together when we have nothing to get together for. I'm tired of people comparing themselves to me. I'm tired of being compared to others. I'm tired of people saying they love me but not enough to go to my shows. I'm tired of them thinking I care if they attend. I'm tired of supporting people so consistently it becomes so natural they forget. I'm tired of having to remove myself from the world to prove I breathe my own air. I'm tired of people asking me questions about boyfriends but want me to be locked up in their houses with their spouses and children for what, tutoring? I'm tired of people counting on me in their future plans like a human savings bond. I'm tired of having been depended on and not acknowledged. I'm tired of listening to people, they don't say much anyway. I'm tired of the arguments. I'm tired of "fighting" being the only way you can show you care. I'm tired of "happy" and "joyous" being awkward feelings people think aren't meant to last. I'm tired of people asking me what my flaws are. I'm tired of people thinking God makes mistakes. I'm tired of that "nobody's perfect" bullshit. I'm tired of soft gangsters and twerking songstresses. I'm tired of trends. I'm tired of being politically correct. I'm tired of having to take the entire world's feelings into account every time I speak. I'm tired of people asking me "what do you do?" instead of clicking my fcking links and reading a paragraph - you rhyme, but you don't read? I'm tired of people thinking I want to write about them and how they do the same thing everyone else does, for profit. I'm tired of people think I want to sit back row are their events and write on them --for free. I'm tired of everyone thinking they're the best out when you're just a startup and if you know anything about business, you know that 25% of you will fail in the first year - I'm going on my fourth and I still pray. I'm tired of hearing rappers rap about luxury vehicles they've never driven, posting videos of rentals on instagram while I named mine "Kim"; she's the all-black nightrider parked outside and we just got a n oil-change so she's runnin' super smooth, but I gotta get my tire sensors checked. I'm tired of female rappers being so proud of having vaginas they forgot to focus on their lyrics, and if they won't flaunt their own bodies, they bring along "friends" to twerk on stage behind them like it makes them righteous to have hoes. I'm tired of ignoring the fact that singers should be attractive, people have to want to look at you with all those lights pointed in your direction. I'm tired of closing my eyes during showcases to ignore everyone's bum ass kicks and shared apparel. I'm tired of all your crews. I'm tired of being more gangsta than 99% of men I meet, who usually spend their evening walking miniature schnauzers, and I don't date men who own poodles. I'm tired of artists who will tell you everything about themselves except about the children they created who are sitting at home waiting on them. I'm tired of people ignoring that rapping is rhythm and poetry, over a beat and infused with bravado. I'm tired of holding this writing degree under my belt like it's not my secret weapon just because, without this rap sht, I'm crazy straight.  I'm tired of people not understanding that I am in love with words and no matter who we string them together I breathe. this. shit. I'm tired of wanting to stop being great because no matter what work you do, people just want to use you and abuse you for it, but they certainly won't pay you.  I'm tired of people telling me how I should run my business, as if my alma mater didn't do a brilliant job and as if I'm not the dopest out. I'm tired of people trying to recruit me into their groups, client lists and beds. I'm tired of looking at chicks and thinking "ewww her?". I'm tired of having to give more than I get because that's the way Jesus loved, so I live my life in present fear that since I walk his path, they'll crucify me just like him. I'm tired of having to be quiet about being in love with who I am. I'm tired of having to act like love isn't all I want or like I'm not a woman and that a man shouldn't know exactly what I need. I'm tired of being the only chick who hangs out with the guys. I'm tired of that one guys who will never understand. I'm tired of thinking I might get along with these hoes, only to end up sitting on my couch with my puppy in my lap & Univision on silent reminded that the only woman I'll ever trust is the woman who birthed me. 

  "Whoever you end up with, I'll be so happy to watch it happen," were the last words I expected him to say. I get so caught up in my emotions of the world, I treat it all the same. I'm never really looking for involvement, but since I am single, it seems people (men and more women, lately) like to try their hand. When I turn men down, they don't know if they're not my type, if I actually do have a boyfriend, or if I'm lying. When they ask to take me out and I decline (or more often ignore), I usually question myself. I wonder why I don't go. Why don't I take advantage? Why don't I do that damn thang and get a bill paid? When I decide not to reach out to "friends" anymore... I think about what I'll do instead. What will my nightlife be like? Who will I party with? Fact of the matter is, I don't take advantage because I'm ok. If I pay all my own bills, and it's my name on the guest list... I guess I'm really ok. I could be doing better, but then, I couldn't sing Independent Women so loudly and proudly. If I wasn't so sure that, one day, I'll be a great wife and a phenomenal mother (which are actually my only true goals in life, everything else is money), I'd be hesitant to be on my Beyoncé. But... aside from my mother... I have very few role models.

       I'm tired of the fantasy in my head. The most stressful part of life is trying to get people to act right. Honor, loyalty, respect... smh. You wish. So partially, I've given it all up. It's not that I've lost hope or faith -- I love me some God --but I won't let the idea of anyone else (and what they are or are not doing) ruin my mood or my groove. I just know I have so much to accomplish in this lifetime. Mostly, people just distract you. We can be each other's most effective sources of inspiration or our greatest deterrents from our goals. The best partnerships in the world are the ones that uplift one another... that's all I want. Caring is obvious. A person who care about you cares about everything about you. Sometimes, they even care about the things you don't care about. We have to expect love. We have to, as much as we don't seem to believe in it. I'm still teaching myself how to truly believe. I run into the most problems in trying to "convince" people that I am who I am. I do what I do. My decisions are calculated and I can be trusted... but people lie... and what you have to do with your life, doesn't really affect them... so they don't really care what you say. Don't worry about them, and never mention them.

      I just had to get these emotions out. I hope, if you've read to the end, you've gained something. I'm actually groovy. If you know me, you know I do what I want... This is how I encourage myself *shrugs* Sometimes you just have to put your mind in the right place... first, you have to tell the truth. 

• If you wanna know what I do, click the following link - presidentella.wordpress.com
• My soundcloud is finally up:  Soundcloud.com/presidentella
• I'm currently working on publishing my poetry book. You all will see that first. 
• JWWWD Magazine will print in Spring 2014!!!!!!! I'll be editing the teams' first submissions next month, can't wait to read those!!!

Most Sincere, 

Ella

Ask ELLA: How do you know it's right?

          

   

      Easy answer: If it's right, it can't be wrong, by definition. *shrugs*  Life is simpler than we think. Sometimes, you've just got to submit to the reality of what is, and compare that to what you think it's supposed to be. From there, you can judge the situation. The only way to make sure things are "right" is to allow them to be what they are - naturally - as well as to deal with them in the same way.

Patiently Dating.

       We rush into things when they're perfect, and that's what ruins everything. I've realized that I actually don't know anything and neither does anyone else. We barely know ourselves, how can we trust anything outside of that? Everything always changes, the best thing we can do is sit back and watch it become what it's meant to be. Worry will kill you while you're still alive. The secret to a long life is patience. 

     Love and life are the same exact thing. I consciously measure the pros and cons of each opportunity that lays on my place and every man all up in my face. I can't count how many pieces I've written trying to claw my way to love but that, in itself, should tell you that I don't have all of the answers. All I have is one question:

Would you rather spend the rest of your life alone, doing what ever it is that you do, or crying in an endless battle for happiness?    

   You'll never catch me stressed out. I called my mom this morning, and she told me Salle Mae's been calling. Truth is, Sallie Mae aint getting a penny until the rest of my life is paid off. Perhaps this isn't the most financially savvy move, but what I need is a raise. Meanwhile, I cut my phone off and am saving and extra $120 a month --with which I bought a bistro set and am working on my garden. I cry because I'm human and feel emotion, but crying or yelling about dealings with a man?  You won't catch me. Worried about where some man is? You won't catch me. Wasting my time calling up some man's phone? You won't catch me. The real issue most women can't find the "right" guy is because you continue to make exceptions, allowing undeserving men into your life just so that you won't be lonely. The same way men choose the pretty girl to date, just to have her, women date random men, simply for company. They say that when you know, you know. If you don't know, why would you involve yourself?

In Lieu of Judgment Day

Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:19

       I met him at Perfections, a Gentleman's club --I call these particular venues strip clubs, but strippers are also called "dancers" *shrugs*. I'm still not sure about how to feel about meeting someone there & I suppose he was trying to figure out the same. That's why he'd asked me why I was there in the first place. I'd gone for a homie's birthday (made a brilliant fool of myself trying to get him in with an expired ID, but I did get him in) and had sat myself in a corner when my new friend took a moment to be a gentlemen and offer me a drink.  As he walked back to me and handed me my staple, Henny con cranberry, the guy I had spoken to briefly on the other side of the bar walked by and I couldn't help but to look him in the eyes & laugh.  Strip clubs are interesting... they make you wonder what everyone is there for. I understand now that I'm not a strip club kinda girl. I would go there for a celebration, when I have enough dollar bills to make the ladies feel what they're doing is worth it, but on a regular night? As a regular? Not for me. 

"I like to put myself into situations to see how I'll react," I told him. 

      "Wow," he responded, the shock evident in his eyes. "I've never heard that before. You're like... 8 steps ahead of me." It seemed much of what I said surprised him. I have the tendency to tell people they haven't met many real women because they find me so foreign. If they aren't used to my responses, I assume they haven't heard them before. I understand I'm an odd individual, but obviously I find myself to be so sane. 

       Ballers ball out. Strip clubs are all about money. The dancers are there for a reason and that reason is not for fun. All kinds of groups frequent the spot, including many females. Most often, they have a friend/favorite they come and spend their money on. Then there's those who just enjoy the sight of women *raises hand*. I think women are beautiful. If they would dance on pedestals everywhere I went, I think that'd be fabulous, but I'd want them to keep their clothes on. Naked strippers make me uncomfortable lol (guess that's not a strip club, then). There are those who go for the purpose of just... making it rain. Some people want to spend money. Looking good makes people feel good. You can purchase attention. There's also a very thirsty crowd --which includes the guy I laughed at. For one of the rotations (the ladies switch from the stage to the floor, giving each an opportunity to dance & keeping the patrons' attention), there was barely any money being thrown out. I walked over to the side of the stage my favorite girl was on, and tried to attract someone who'd do something. It only half worked --he came over and asked, "Can I get a dance?" Like I've been learning to do more often, I gave him my hand, palm up. He reached in his pocket and pull out one dingy dollar bill and placed it reluctantly in my palm. As my eyebrows raised and my head tilted he asked, "So when do you go on?" sliding his hand around my waist.   

On Staying Faithful

       

Corinthians 7:8-11

          If you ever hear me pick up the phone and say, "Wassup, yo!?" it's probably my mom. & If I'm speaking to my mom, the very last thing we'll speak about is my "dating" situation. Nobody I know gives a damn who's in my bed -- except for Duchess.

       It's not that I don't meet men, it's that I meet too many. They come via whatever network will allow them to filter in. Having my phone cut off has been a blessing. I meet so many guys after I perform/model who'll want to talk about "doing a track" or something, but when I tell them to email me, I never hear from them. When I used to give out my number, all I'd get would be "hey" messages distracting me in the middle of my work day. Now, they just tell me to check my DMs or my inbox so they can privately ask me things they don't really care about. I've been thinking lately about the opportunities I don't allow. Maybe I'm tough to get to. Maybe my expectations are too high, but... I want to be dated. I don't want to pretend you're interested in me so you can squeeze in conversations about how amazing you think I am, hoping to add on "in bed". I know what you want. Enver's little sister ain't no dummy.

Roses are Red, the Rest are Blue: Valentine's Day 2013

       "So, are you dating anyone?" My brother-in-law came to visit me at work. He wasn't fully there for me & that's why it was so perfect. He's working with a new magazine - galoremag.com -- and was officially on work, but he's never been the type to let work interfere with personal. He's one of my greatest inspirations. If it weren't for his confidence, I wouldn't be where I am today. 

       I haven't had too many examples of true love. My father passed when I was 9 months old & my mother isn't a big dater. I know it's bizarre that on Valentine's Day, I've started my post wooing over my brother-in-law, but part of the reason I love him most is how much he loves my sister. I met Nick when I was 11. I'd gone to visit my sister for sibling's weekend while they both attended Fordham. "Don't tell Mami I have a boyfriend," she said before I met him. "She wants me to just focus on school." My sister's not been the rebel she pretends to be --she just has the balls to if pushed. Like myself, she accredits much of her thoroughness to coming from where we come from. Unlike me, she was neither born nor raised there --it just happened to be her address. My sister left CF at 14 & we all know high-school defines you. Myself, I am a rebel by nature and by practice. That's why we clash. I'm the only one who can read her.  My sister's a tough cookie so, with the 13 years Nick has willingly adored her, he deserves a standing ovation. That said... the man with the strength to take me on will be worthy of a reward... maybe two.

A Guide to Victory

   

  "I'm confused as to what happens next," CJ commented. 

     "So I am I," I responded with a laugh, because that was all I could do. When you can't cry, you gotta laugh, yo. I went home last weekend both selfish and selfless reasons. My mom fractured her ankle (and traded in the brace for Chinese oils) so I wanted to make sure she sat down somewhere. When your body feels worn, sometimes what you need is love. She's all I've got, so I try to be there for her on whatever level I can. To take advantage of my time tho, I hit my n*gga Harvey --now known as King Cooper -- to see if we could make a track work. I'll be performing again at the Paul Robeson Theatre. Not sure what I want to do yet, but I'm always trying to share the stage with the homies.

Dating Expectations

When's the last time you went on a legit date?

        Just read this article on NYTimes.com entitled, "The End of Courtship," in which the author, Alex Williams, writes that there is almost no such thing as dating anymore. Once upon a time, a guy would call a girl and ask her if he could pick her up at a reasonable hour and take her somewhere impressive. Nowadays, guys might invite you out for a drink where he's already invited two or three other girls. Alex's article claims that it's due to our generation's "hook up" culture. I say, it has more to do with the fact that most people don't really deserve sh*t and the rest of them don't expect it.

          Fact of the matter is, if you don't expect a date, a guy won't give it to you. Times is tough. Not only do most of these fools lack proper instructions on how to treat a lady, they also lack proper funds to afford one. "You can't afford a girlfriend," I've said too many times and bruised too many hearts. On November 3rd. 2011 I answered an Ask Ella post for "How Do I Get Real Dates?" and my opinion remains. The only way to get dates is to expect them. The reason, I believe, women don't get as many dates as they once did is simple: most women don't deserve dates. "Even in an era of ingrained ambivalence about gender roles, however, some women keep the old dating traditions alive by refusing to accept anything less," wrote Williams & I say I've got to agree.

Male Whores Galore.

"Used to tell they friends I was ugly and wouldn't touch me. And then I showed up in that dubbed out buggy. Then they got fussy and they don't remember that...and I don't remember you." Jay-Z - Song Cry

            The thirst is super real. I've been to a couple of showcases and open mics lately and I swear it keeps getting thirstier out there. N*ggas go from asking me my name, to if I "have a man".  "You married," they like to ask. Little do they know, I wouldn't date a man who doesn't understand that marriage would mean a ring on my finger. If he doesn't care to look for whether or not the ring is there, I ain't counting on him to put it there either.Perhaps the reason men end up dating whores is because they "wanna get to know" anything walking down the street.

 I haven't talked about my "love life" for some time, but it seems that's all people care about. I wish people would mind their business.  When I talk about how my puppy thinks my bed is hers, people only want to talk about how I'll handle having a man in bed. You see... that's the problem. When you think of me and my bed, all you want to know is who's in it. When I mention the museum, no one cares who went with me.

           "I mean, you beautiful. I wanna get to know you," follows me everywhere. "That don't say sh*t about me, hun. Have a nice day," is the only way I can respond. The worst is when they ask for my number to "talk"... aboooout whaaaaat? It's terrible in this industry, too because niggas will pretend to respect you and invite you events and all that, but get you in a private conversation and try their hand. Perhaps we do need stronger gun laws cuz these n*ggas are likely to test and I'm likely to respond. I'm rarely alone with men. There are few I trust private conversations with. I don't trust private conversations period, but when n*ggas lie, things end up worse. Even if nothing happened, guys do go by the guy code... and if they think the homie hit it... he might as well should have. You can ask about me... I truly don't play games, but when I do I play them well. It's funny cuz I'll get on stage and give them a "f*ck niggas" verse, and then they'll try to run game on me --wife me even (in hood terms, no ring). N*ggas just don't listen.

The Truth of It.

Sometimes you just wanna give someone a swift jab to the face. The reason is secondary, but the emotion remains. It's just so hard to deal with people. Always. All of them.

          The first thing people see is what you look like. I'm 5'2 I'm not mad at it. I understand --it doesn't disgust me any less. I performed at The Paul Robeson Theatre this passed Saturday, January 12th (watch the videos here). I made it to the building at about 9pm & walked into the most beautiful faces I know: My family. My cousins are everything I have (If you haven't realized this yet, read my previous post, "XMas Presence").  I have trouble asking people to come out and spend their hard-earned money, so when this passed show came around, I invited everyone with a warning. Unless I can get you in free, I don't "invite". I don't think anyone should. "El quien invita paga," my mother says. He who invites, pays.

       Our most fatal mistake occurs when we forget the extent  to which other people exist. We fail to see the completeness of their humanity. I don't expect support. Perhaps that's why I value it so much. I know people don't have to take the time out of their lives to watch me experiment with life. My cousin Jay has three kids he never forgets about so neither can I. My cousin Ed is the father of an Angry Birds champion. Aside from their lives as parents, they also have their own lives, careers, responsibilities, partners... everything. They exist outside of me and I respect that. I encourage it. We are individuals and need to lead our lives as such.

XMas Presents/Presence

 

When things aren't perfect, we forget that they can be.

This year, my whole family couldn't be together because we couldn't be together. The individual reasons are important because they all exist -- each one of these reasons was big enough to keep us apart. Each of these reasons are to blame for keeping my from one big Christmas under one big tree everyone forgets to compliment due to the gross amount of gifts beneath it. These reasons are what I work against every day I succeed in opening my eyes. The worst part about tough times is that you fail to see it could be worse. & if you do understand it could be worst, it makes you insensitive... which could be worse.

I don't know what it is about me, but people love me. Especially when they wish they wouldn't. I've heard it attributed to my being an inclusive Aries, but maybe it's because I love them, first. I hate that feeling, when you walk in a room and you worry what a person thinks of you --so I've let that feeling go. Every time I walk in a room I smile. I'm me and happy to be such. You never need to wonder what people think of you, because you probably already know. We see our "flaws" the clearest --the defining factor is if YOU consider it a flaw. The things we think about ourselves are what hinder us most. Once you've given up on yourself, you've lost. I love me & I don't give a f*ck how anyone feels about it. & I don't concern myself with anyone else... so I have no feelings about anyone else. I be chillin.

Long Distance Relationships?

I don't think there's a problem with long distance relationships. 

But... I do believe your money needs to be long as well.

CLICK HERE to read ELLA's thoughts on long distance relationships. 

CLICK HERE to read ELLA's thoughts on long distance relationships.

Learning to Keep Family First.

         If you don't know how much I love my cousins, you don't know me at all. Sometimes my cousins don't know how much I love them, but they don't know me completely either. People (in general) expect you to be just like them, especially when you're "supposed" to be: if you've shared the same culture, upbringing, etc. The more you have in common on the surface, the more we assume we have in common when it comes to world views, values and methods of thinking. Then, even when we do have the same values, there is a still a chance we'll go about things in different ways. 

             My cousins are my brother. I mean that quite literally. My brother was the eldest of us, being 11 years my senior. My brother was fun. He was respectable, a gentleman, had an amazing smile and could make anyone laugh. I do this thing when I laugh (if I laugh real good) where my tongue rolls... well, I used to. No one can make me laugh like my brother did especially when he would tickle me, hard. My brother was my exact opposite. Me as a guy. I was just him as a girl. When I was 10, I quit ballet and started playing basketball --partially because I liked it better & partially because it was something I could do with my brother. My brother treated me like a princess and he treated whores like whores: Make you feel pretty, but how much do you derseve really? (He loved him a stripper tho lol) He taught me everything I need to know about men and their relation with women. I had a father for 9 months but he passed in a car accident about a half a mile from my house. 1989 was a tough year for my family, but I can't quite remember it. 1993 was worse. There's this little kid's book called, "The Night Dad Went to Jail." They haven't made one about Mom yet, but when a mother leaves the family, it's most likely it falls apart --even if it doesn't and especially if Dad doesn't exist. For two years, I had a mom, a brother and a sister... somewhere. I lived with a stranger in my own home. My best friend was a Black lab. I missed my brother most because he was the one who never wrote...

Thankful Livin' 2012

       It was a tougher Thanksgiving than I thought it was going to be. At the start of it, it seemed like everyone was missing. It was just myself, my mom, Duchess (my pitbull) and Luna (my mom's/sister's Schnauzer). I always want to be alone, but my mom always wants to invite people. It took her a while to grant me my selfish wish but... I'd never really had time with her. What was crazier was people seeming to catch feelings over that. Like I should be with them instead of my mom... or that I should hurry up with her... I don't know who people think they are... Where's the respect?

Any Respectable Women?

I can't get over myself. Some people confuse it with conceit, but I wake up me everyday. F*ck you expect? This is the first "current" post I've done in a while. Meanwhile, I'm pushing everything else aside. As you continue to read, you'll understand why. 

I'm here for the money. Living luxurious is something I've always wanted and if it's simply a matter of earning it, then I'm for it. This only become a problem when other people decide that what I've decided has an effect on them. Bizarre since everyday I go home, I go home to myself. And every 1st of the month, it's me at the post office  mailing off my rent. Everybody has everything to do with your life, but they won't put their name on that bill. 

I'm re-invigorated with truth. I just read a post on Twitter about how we "invite" the world into our lives and, why the fuck not? Doesn't make much of a difference anyway. People have a miniscule affect on my life whether I acknowledge them or not. No one lives for you. When people decide to participate in your life, I don't think it's wise to acknowledge them. Frankly, you have no idea what another person is going to do. Everyone I meet has these grandiose dreams about doing A, B and C, but unless they're doing it... what really do you have to go on?

People speak too much. The funnest parts of my day is when people come over to my desk to tell me shit that A. I already know or B. they could have emailed me about. Why are you here? That's the question I've been asking of myself as well as to those around me: Why are you here. "When am I gonna see you again," he texted me this morning. Last night, he claimed the tupperware I let him borrow weeks ago prompted him to text me. I understand. It's pink. It obviously doesn't belong to you, but if you think that's going to be an excuse to come over, you've got me twisted and fucked up. After I stop speaking to someone on that level, I don't know why they continue to linger. I couldn't do it. I feel cold shoulders and keep it pushin. But really, the issue is, what do you want from me? 

"You have nothing to say to me," I had told him. I wasn't trying to be rude. I was trying to be very honest. I had made dinner. Fettucini Alfredo. Grilled Chicken. Broccoli. For the hour I walked around the kitchen, he had nothing to say to me. He laid on my bed and literally stared at the ceiling. Not to say I need full conversation... or perhaps he was just that comfortable (already) but... hello. We had nothing to talk about. Once the facts were out, that was it. We shared music once... but other than that... I'm not sure what he's needed for. I could've cooked and ate with Duchess as I usually do. We'd have sat in silence. Duchess pays just as many bills as these niggas do, except she scares away mice and bugs. She's actually more of an asset in my life. Still, just because you take me out.... *shrugs*

Truth: The following weekend, he wanted to come back over. Basically, he wanted me to play "wifey" with no reciprocation. For a woman who works 9:30 to 7pm on weekdays, runs an online magazine, takes care of her own house and home and... is plotting to take over the world... I deserve dinner. I deserve to be offered a moment to relax. That's what people don't see. You take the time to care for them, they sit back and enjoy... but never do they consider caring for you. Niggas think that dinner & gifts are about the money. But only broke niggas think that. Dumb niggas just don't think. Before the first time he visited, I sent him a message saying "I don't like niggas to lay up in my crib. Don't get used to it." All he wanted to do was be in my shit. I stopped picking up his calls.  Once you understand the beauty of yourself and learn to enjoy your own company, you'll notice that "lonely" bullshit is exactly that. If you need company because you're lonely, it's because you don't even you think you're fun. I like me. Only thing I like more is money. 

"Money" is the honest term for "success". I meet people all the time who tell me that they're not interested in fame or fortune.  I don't like to extend the conversation much because only time will tell that. Or we'll see how they feel when fame & fortune comes. Or doesn't. I've decided that dating doesn't pay the bills (not for me at least), so I've got to get my hands dirty in other things. I decided last Thursday I want to be in shows. I have a shoot tonight at 7:30, a test shoot Saturday at 3pm, a show rehearsal Saturday at 8pm and a meeting Sunday at 5. If you want to do something, do it. Everything you stop and wonder how and try to plot out some marketing scheme, you lose time. You have to realize that only you are going to make that happen. People aren't going to help you, and if they do, they're just watching to count the pennies in your pocket. If they don't count your pennies, keep them close & break them off --That's love. I'm weary of my "supporters". I appreciate it all, but you know I'm 1000% real. If you're here with me & fuck with me because I'm me, blessings to you. Because I can't change this. This is me. This isn't a gimmick or a sales pitch. I have no idea what else to do expect be myself. 

I'm only interested in genuine shit. I don't mind giving or spending time, but when I do, I do because I want to. I'll also do it if I'm paid, but you can't pay me to do what I don't want to do. I own myself and can't no amount of money say otherwise. Can't no amount of money cause me to disrespect myelf: That is most important. As I've been reaching out to photographers and promoters, seems everyone wants me to take my clothes off. A woman's body is a marvelous thing. Sometimes, it's not even about what you do, but how. To be a woman of virtue is a blessing. To maintain that overtime is a feature worthy of celebration. I'm only interested in being myself. I know the image I'm putting out, so you're sure to see more of it. I'm confident in myself, who I'm worried about is you all. I know who I'm going to be, but have to ease the world into it --haters included, I do this for them. 

 I'm no joke.  And I don't lie. #AskAboutMe. Stay tuned. Soon as I have the photos from tonight, I'll post them for ya & you can hate/love me a little more ;) I still haven't formally introduced you all to Hani Hulu either --Fashion contributor and JWWWD's newest team member. I have much to tell you all. She's next, tho.  In the meantime, Hanihulu.blogspot.com ---- your fashion fix.   

S/O to the JWWWD team for helping the cause.  Just keep in mind that...  we're all living. And we do so every second of the day. If we're not writing... we're probably living. Just like you, we have jobs, families, friends and "others".  I encourage you to check out who we are forreal. We're real women. With ambition, determination and (most importantly) self-respect. I'm here for a reason. I want to be everything. I want to show everybody how to do what they're doing but still hold themselves to a higher caliber. I can guarantee this: We might do the same thing, but you don't quite do it like me. No offense. I can't do it like you either. We're individuals and allowed to do what we like how we'd like. But morals... you can't really escape those, can you?

#LongLiveRespectableWoman

Wish me luck. Or throw shade. Whatev *shrugs*

Love you, anyway.

-ELLA

Upgrade Your Relationships

One year ago, I thought...

9.19.12

It'd have all be fine if he'd have just put it on me this morning. It was all I wanted, really. And the little bit of mouth-love that was promised to me last night. & there's nothing I hate worse than someone who can't keep a promise.

"You're acting like a bitch," was what I wanted to say, but it was 9am and World War IV will have to hold off until another day. World War 3 was a bloody battle and I'm not sure either of us has fully recovered. The Neosporin I have to rub on his chest (and back) daily is my main evidence. But I was pissed off. For every reason. First and foremost, I wanted head. And I still do, but I wanted it before my "lady" time comes and I'm sure tonight will be too late. Then, I had to figure out what to have for lunch today before there wasn't any meat left over from dinner last night. I'd have had a porkchop but I wanted my babe to be full and gave him the other piece. I had planned to get up and sear some steak... but there's only so much a girl can do in the AM. I was so hot & bothered having gotten a "no" I took a 30 minute shower which greatly cut into my getting ready time. And since I usually wake him up for breakfast (of which there was none, today) he was still sleeping at 9AM --when I had to leave the house. "I gotta go," I spoke loudly to wake him to which he responded groggily, "What's with the fucking attitude?" I responded only by placing my hands on my hips, tilting my head and raising my eyebrows. he should know by now that  I don't verbally respond to anything I consider bullshit. 

I'd have left him in my place, comfortable & sleeping... but I'm not there yet. Not to mention, I have a roommate who'd see him head out later and I simply would rather he leave (6am like a considerate nobody would have done.) On one hand, I should have left him there to sleep and get his rest. There's really no reason for him to get up at 8:30am when he doesn't have to. And if I had my own place, I'd gladly let him stay. I hate to disturb him when he's finally resting (I mean, he is my baby). But on the other hand, it's not my own place. And it's not his. And he knew the arrangement before this all started. He's come in and tried to change everything else --granted I've allowed him the room to do so --but there are some things I simply cannot make exceptions for. 

We had it. For a little while, after we got into our last argument, we had it. Every issue we had with one another was addressed clearly. Quickly. Calmly.  When things change from the way they used to be...you need to address it the first instance you can. If you continue to put up with something, it's safe for the other person to assume you're okay with it. I've decided I can't. I can't put up with certain things. And it's not because I want to be a bitch... it's simply shit that irks me to my core like... broken promises.

I guess it's not all that bad. He speaks tough. It's a side effect from his persona. Had I never left the hood I might find it attractive. Now, I simply find his abrasiveness charming. He's my stray dog. Seems to me I've picked him up off the streets. I can only expect from him to pee on the carpet and chew up some shoes. In my best interest, I keep my shoes up high and rub his face in the messes he makes. He'll learn. If he likes a warm bed and a meal everyday... he'll understand where home is. A dog roams, I've been told. I never thought I could handle it though. And in the moments when I thought I could, I couldn't. But now I understand that if I need my space, so does he. It's not out of any feeling in particular more than curiosity or a longing for something new. Just some entertainment. Perhaps a change of pace. I know the reason behind it all. I know that he doesn't feel like being uptight all the time. 

Today I think...

9.19.12

Damned fool. That's what we both were. See what happens when you try to allow idiocy. "Part of his persona"? Absolutely. He was a d*ck to say the very least. But a decent person at the least. My problem is, I see the good in people far too often. I also try to convince myself to be ready for things when I'm not. More so, it's worse that I try to make them ready for it when they're not. He was staying with me in this one bedroom when he should have had a place of his own. Perhaps that's not something I can hold against a man but... I might not be dating until a person has what I have or better. I can't continue to foster relationships with boys trying to be men because I'm fascinated with helping them. They're not my responsibility. As CJ said the other day, I didn't lay down and have no kids. 

But how can we not be concerned? How can you involve yourself with someone and feel no emotion? Contrary to popular belief, I'm not as cold as I seem. I'm also not as dumb as I seem. Secretly, this is the shit a lot of us do to ourselves but are afraid to admit. I fall in love because I love it. I can love anyone at any moment for anything. But it doesn't take me long to wisen up. I read my horoscope last night. Said that this Saturn is finally getting the f*ck out my system. The turmoil --which also brought great teaching-- is coming to an end and my light is getting brighter.

The reason I write all this down is so that I remember not to do it again. Too many times, we end up dating the same-ass nigga because we fail to see how much is like the others. Granted we all have a "type," but that outfit isn't all there is. When a relationship of yours comes to a close, I recommend you take the time to understand what exactly went wrong so that you can address that in your next trail. The same goes for all relationships --family, friends, etc. This isn't to say you won't come across new hurdles and new struggles, but it's a total waste of time to keep dealing with the same bullshit.

Always make sure the next one is an upgrade.

Pimp Or Die

One year ago, I thought...

9.16.11

"That's what happens when you deal with a boss," he explained as got comfortable in my bed. He moved what he likes to call "his" pillow "Things get rearranged. Shit happens."

I've never been so comfortable with a nigga taking over my whole shit. And really, it's because there isn't much for him to improve on. We think along the same lines, so there isn't much he finds to fix except for minor shit like... the pillows. And my schedule.

Today, I think...

9.16.12

"Take your time when you liking a guy, cuz if he sense that your feelings too intense, it's pimp or die."

It's not all it's cracked up to be unless it is. You never know what a man is capable of until he's done it. And you don't realize what he's not doing until someone else steps in. 

I used to think I liked a tough guy. One who could actually deal with me. But there's a difference between a strong man and a controlling one. You need to pay attention to that difference. A strong man allows you to be yourself. He establishes boundaries while respecting yours. A controlling man sets boundaries for you. Don't let someone box your world in or you'll be boxing in the end.

Training Dogs to Kill.

One year ago, I thought... 

9.12.12

I don't know what made him put the ring on my finger... but he did. It doesn't mean anything, he said. An apology. Just to show he cares. To show he's there. I can keep it if I want, he says. Even if I never speak to him ever again. He'd understand.

I'm a people person, he said last night as I explained that, for the most part, I don't like anyone. "People are people," he went on to explain and usually, when people speak nice, I take it as pure bullshit, but I've had too much company-time (as opposed to alone-time) with him so I have every reason to substitute each of his words with one: Truth. "He told me I'm his friend," he continued.

You can't stick by someone who doesn't want to stick by you. You can try all you want but if the other magnet is pulling in the opposite direction, you're shit outta luck.  Sometimes you've got to give in and allow yourself.I pity the self-inhibited; those who are held back by their own minds. Concerned with the wrong things. When's the last time you were yourself? When you decided what you really liked as opposed to what would be considered "right".

Fuck right. Fuck wrong, too. I'm going back to my roots. Back to who I used to be & chuck a lucid bird at the world & "do me". Fuck that.

I set myself up for disapproval. He told me I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have told anyone. "The thing that ruins relationships the most is other people," he said. Am I supposed to ignore that fact that he told the story, too? Should I disregard the timid look  on the look on the face of his "best friend" as we crossed paths after she had heard. The first day we spoke, we had a woman-to-woman conversation about how if a man put his hands on me, I'd try --with little hesitation-- to kill him. I saw the doubt in her eyes when I said it. 5'2. 120lbs. What could I really do? But when she saw the scar on his chest and hear the story of the accompany blade, I'm sure she praised her God for my hesitation.

Today, I think...

9.13.12

I don't regret anything I've done. I'm alive and well. I still constantly think about who people must think I am and of the invisible dunce cap I seem to don upon my head. They take me for a fool. I will admit I'm addicted to love. I have a very bad habit of being perfect and convincing others of the same. It takes me a month --at most-- to get those three words to slip from his mouth. And whether he believes it or not a month from then, he'll have believed it when he said it. 

I'm not perfect, and that's exactly why I am. I get offended when man try to call me crazy because I am not crazy. I used to be. Now, I am full-out insane. I used to be a yeller. The call you a million times and call you every name the last girl and the next, combined, couldn't spit out. And fluidly. Now, I just let them die off. 

I've lost all sympathy. I used to convince myself to be nice to the men who attempted to court me. To look past their flaws. To forgive them their mistakes. But then, I realized I am not God. And while I can forgive, I cannot let them into heaven. So I bar the gates and fortify the walls. There is no re-entrance to my heart. There is only one strike here.

You have no idea what your neighbor is going through. People ask why I moved to Brooklyn (if they don't speculate) but the real answer is because I played my cards far too well. You think you want a man sitting at your doorstep until he's there. You think you want him to love you more than life itself, until he loves you more than he loves your life. And granted, I've always wanted a pitbull, but what I really needed was a weapon that won't hesitate.

All dogs can be trained to kill using one thing: love. It is infectious and deadly. Use it wisely.

Like N*ggas

 8.19.11

 Exactly one year ago, I thought....

I don't really like niggas. That's the problem.

No one ever has it completely. They're always missing something. Mostly, I'm just... not attracted.

People are funny looking. And I'm not saying I'm gorgeous, but there's that one thing that throws a person off that you don't notice until you get close. I'm afraid of that thing. I'm afraid of having it and of seeing it.

8.19.12

Today I think... 

Maybe it's not that that person isn't attractive, but if they aren't the one you picture yourself spending the rest of your days with, it might look out. It might be a sign. 

A Single Goddess

8.16.11

Exactly one year ago, I thought...

He loves me. I know it. I'd be a fool to doubt it.

I want to be a Goddess to a King. Meaning I want the world's most revered man to revere me. I want the man your man admires to admire me. I need to be highest up on the food chain. How exhilarating it must be to have the man who answers to no one answer to you. That is power and I am so hungry for it.

  

8.16.12

Today I think...

But have you ever felt the power of saying no?

 Maaaaaannnnn they want it when they can't have it. As it goes with the rest of the world --people only want what they can't have. I was honest with him. Told him exactly what I felt. Sometimes, we give into relationships and the such simply because we're alone. We try only because we're afraid of missing out. But if it's means to be, then it is what it is right? 

I'm tired of pretending like I give a fuck. I don't want feelings. I don't have anywhere to put them.