It never gets easier, does it?

About a week ago, my friend Melissa kept asking the same question to all of us. “Do you think men and women can be just friends? Even if that person were naked, you wouldn’t want to sleep with your friend?” At first, I didn’t know how to respond to such a vague question.

Sure some women have guy friends to talk to and they might even life some weighs at the gym every now and then or grab a cup of joe. Those might be the same people that know there isn’t a chance in hell they will ever hook up beyond the friendship level. Take my brother for example; I don’t know a single girl in his life because none of those girls are his friends. I have the feeling he might have some prospects but for now, nothing too exciting coming from his end. He’ll never be the guy to only have a girl as a friend, only girlfriends. I don’t see that’s his style, anyhow. See the point?

Now, there are only two sides to this; the other being that you’re definitely hooking up and are going to be in a relationship (whether it’s Facebook official or not). Everyone can tell, even when it’s not mentioned, it’s there. Sometimes, the relationship gets complicated between the two sexes. One person sees the relationship differently than the other, one person isn’t as committed as the other would like, one person thought you two were an item but really, it’s all in your head. In the end, someone always get hurt. I should know, this has happened to me one too many times.

Bottom line to all of this is that, relationships between men and women must be a one way street, never both ways. If the lines were blurred, the two of you would hate each other for similar or different reasons. I appreciate my guy friends for putting up with my crazy self and I wouldn’t want to do anything to mess up that chemistry.

Fresh off the Presses

A poem inspired by this post. I hope it’s not too obvious but it’s been on my mind lately and I hope it’s good. Critique and as always please send me feedback.

Men and Women Can Never Be Equal

I understand that you wish we never did it,

but the facts are in the air and whether you agree or not–

we were horny and I know you wanted all of it. This is

the reason why men can’t be friends with women.

Call it shallow, worse than the well from The Ring,

I won’t disagree with that reaction, but the women

reading this should knowledge this little known trivia.

Look up to the first guy you notice,

does he see you? Staring at your eyes

before quickly darting them away from you?

That distinct look is a sign that he’s interested and

wants to sleep with anyone with a big of tits as her glasses.

If that particular gentleman had the facial features

of a kick-in donkey, the chances of a romantic gesture

would be more likely than a zombie apocalypse.

So those are the basic responses from each opposing side.

Now, what it these actions turned into reactions towards that person

the transpiration going on is so quint and simple,

why not go for it?

The air of facts is foggy, smacking you in the face

what’s been in front of you,

women are crazy,

men are confusing.


Female leachers; how you know you’re following this pattern.

Sup world…

 …I know it’s been a while since I have posted anything but it has been due to the following

  •  ·     Writing (papers, poetry, research, etc.)
  •          Stinky English Colloquium
  • ·         Reading good American literature
  • ·         Dealing with the obnoxious people, both men and women.

 Let me explain myself. This past couple of weeks, people has assumed that I am “friends” with women—well, more like one woman in particular—who constantly gets on peoples nerves just like her PMS and is always the center of attention because she’s always talking. I mean it, people- no one gets in a word edgewise. If you think that sounds mean, you haven’t even hear her speak. It disgusts me half the time and bores me to the point of leaving my friend’s apartment when she is in our presence.

 I’m probably venting a little and being a bit harsh but the thing with this woman, Lindsey, is a textbook man leacher. Lemme break this down for you folks. She’s got a money problem; she’s going to a guy for comfort. She’s having a bad day at work and you’re the one not texting her right away; you bet she’s going to that cute guy she met at a hockey party. She feels you’re not communicating enough to her; she’ll complain about it to her guy friends. She’s not invited to a planned event among the collected group of friends; she will keep those feelings inside and expose them to her the closest guy friend on a cruise. Such nonsense from her and I genuinely can’t deal with it any longer. It’s as if she is anti-feminist or something. 

 I know that I’m leaving Bradley in less than 30 days so I don’t want to leave things on an awkward note but I would rather go out with my ride or die bff’s at Bradley that have actually listened to my bullshit when I want to express myself. And everyone should take relationships like those seriously. Relationships such as those from my earlier post regarding best friends.

Here is one example of this…



Girl, I need a huge favor. Like a white girl crazy favor.




Would you mind hopping on Facebook and looking up Rebecca Schuk? And let me know what his latest post is? Adam commented on it and I can’t see it and it’s driving me insane. Ps. I know you and Lynds are besties now, but she ain’t got nothing on me.


I did that, didn’t see any comment from Adam. Girl, you know how much you mean to me, more than her obviously.


What was her last post about? Men’s facials? And you just did this for me, you’re amazing.


No, it was a photo contest by gerber baby. Idk if I am able to see her latest updates but adam is not there.


Damn. No it’s a different post. Gah, I hate my Facebook paranoia. Thanks girl.


Anytime chica, always here 🙂


I know you are 🙂 you’re one of the few certainties in my life.


We should have a skype date soon. I miss you too much I have realized.

When did airplanes go from exciting to exhausting?

Song that I am currently obsessed with:

Now, I can’t exactly remember the first time I rode on the silver bird but I felt excited; as if I was going to the tops of the earth and everything was going to look so different while slowly floating our way up. After researching with my father, the first flight was to Disney World with my family, including Granny when I was about seven or eight. I remember the trip–  how The Tower of Terror terrified my brother so badly, he made up an excuse to not ride it and how adventurous my Granny was when riding those rides with me, us acting like two eight year olds. The air compared to the ground was breaking– where most of my first memories of vacation happened in my mom’s ’98 Toyota beige mini van, playing hand held Yahtzee and card games like War and Go Fish with my brother. The minivan acted like a rocket ship and every destination had foreign and alien elements to the hotels and activities involved with the vacation. Tennessee, Arizona, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio. Just some of the many states I have the fondest moments with my family. So many inside jokes, arguments and battles, dines that shined like diamonds, and of course the sight seeing. All of that use to be so fun and easy, a new experience to add to the collection.

Now, the collection of trips seems to be getting tired and sometimes, it takes up more time and work because of the way airports are functioned these days. When I was younger, I never noticed the amount of time it took from waiting in so many lines for security, then to be on the plane, having everyone seated and the plane ready to take off. And I always made sure I had my book and music in order to keep the peace among the somewhat rude passengers. Nowadays, I have a routine and opinion about airports and flying on planes. This isn’t a bad thing, just something people do after flying for so long after understanding the new laws and rules around security checks. It amazes me that some people’s jobs have to include traveling from China to Philadelphia in two days and that’s their life. While I want to travel the world someday, those moments will be special because they will be my own memories, not family related. Hopefully they will lighten up the rules a bit, but I don’t think that kind of luck will ever exist again.

One final note: I will always love my dad for playing the ‘bird game’ with me and my brother. So right when the plane gets extremely fast, just before it leaves the ground, we would flap our arms that we pretend are our wings and we flap them “really really hard” before the plane went into the air, so no one would be left behind and we would be able to make it there together. That is still one of the sweetest moments I can remember as a child.

Fresh off the presses: I wanted to create different forms and apply it to this poem but also having a story in each stanza. Please tell me your critique and opinion, I greatly appreciate it. Enjoy what I have come up with!


Innovative, slick, machine to the sky,

Jefferson Airplane! I’m trapped and I’m enclosed,

but I won’t complain, I’ll open all the windows!

We rode on it together for the very first time


Arriving in Thailand at one o’clock in the morning,

their time of course, as two birds land

tired, coursed, and not in the mood to talk,

there were buddhist monks blessing our sins


My mother, brother, and I are somewhere in Texas;

she is frustrated because she’s drunk, or at least

I am to expect that she is over a pointless conversation

as the nice old lady asks us what we would like to drink


10 a.m., art class in the 4th grade at Green Trails,

an announcement is being made through the big brown box,

‘Something terrible has happened to our country.’

Lifeless children understanding what a terrorist threat is


Los Angles is known to be la-la land and I was in that state,

flying back home from the last vacation of my youth, the skies—

they were calling out my thoughts, don’t desert us, stay here,

wish my toes were in the sand, not cramped in someone’s seat.


It’s that time of year again. Oh wait…

Graduating soon sucks. There, I say it. When I stared to realize that my college years are over in five weeks and I’m going off into the world with no money and no definite job plan, it’s a little more than scary to me. Like the other morning in my American Literature class, some fresh men girl was freaking out about registering for classes; thus having to explain to Professor Newton that she would have to leave early to return to her dorm. ‘Oh god I’m old. I’m leaving soon and never coming back.’  I seriously thought I was going to have a panic attack on the third floor at Bradley Hall and these under class men will think that I’m this crazy senior who randomly freaked out in the middle of class.

Ah, the old days of living in the dorms, when my biggest worry back then was trying to find a place to study for a test or which center I wanted to go for food. To go back and relive my early years in college sounds like a vacation right now. But I know better. I know that if I did that, I would never get to where I am right now in my life. Actually graduating with a degree from a university in which I am damn proud of to call English.

At least I’m not Bluto.

A True Best Friend Just Knows

Text messages sent back and forth to one of my best friends. Please enjoy the unknown inside world of ‘what do white women love to talk about.’ Take your seats and if you must throw up, do it somewhere that no one will see you.



So Adam’s friend, Mark, just sent a friend request on Facebook. What should I do?


Mark None?


Yeah, that one


I’d go ahead and add him. Adam is the one who uses that page. It was probably him who sent it.




I think it’s kind of funny. Once Adam is out of class, I’ll ask him about it.


Mkay, cool.


Speaking of Adam, has becky posted anything on his wall? Ugh, I have to go see the vagina doctor today. I always feel like they’re judging me if I miss a spot shaving down there. Bahahaha.


I haven’t seen anything. Oh Vagina Monologues, “and then there are those visits”. I don’t like my doctor so my vag is always hairy and untamed, lol.


Okay cool. Thanks girl 🙂 Bahahaha! I love my normal one, but I’m seeing a different lady today since my normal is on vacation. Ugh, this is so traumatic, I feel like she should at least buy me dinner first.


For sure. I need to switch, she has made comments about my vag that I don’t appreciate. Like hen I had my first PAB, she made a rude comment about how tight my vag was and how I need to savor it. I felt so vulnerable. Yeah, they should and ask where you see yourself in 3-5 years.


Bahahaha, 3-5 years. I love it!! Men just don’t understand. If I were you, I would have like ‘sorry we all can’t have gaping vaginas like you!’ Yuck! The receptionist just asked me what I was here for. So I had to announce to the waiting room I was getting std testing. Thanks for the look of judgement’s fellow patrons of Stc. Lol.


Way to be judging stc! She clearly gives no fucks today lol.


Yup, it was Adam who added you. He was like ‘why do you care’ when I asked him. Maybe someone has a little crush on you?!


You can’t be serious


Well, I was serious about him adding you, but not too serious about the crush part. But seriously, he might. For all I know. He likes you a lot, I know that much.


I don’t think he does. Besides he wouldn’t have the balls to ask me out, considering you’re my best friend.


If he did, I would laugh so hard. And buy you two long islands from one world.


Bahahaha I love you.


Which technically makes it three long islands, since I already owe you one. Oh lord, when I’m in Peoria next, we’re getting white girl wasted at 11 am again.


I have no complaints with that lol.


What are you up to tonight?


Staying home and watching the cards game. What are your plans?


Just hanging out on the south side of Chicago in a section 8 neighborhood. Haha! Oh, the places my friends take me to.


Section 8? Oh geez, hopefully they’re taking you to get murdered.


You know sometimes I really hate all men in general.


They can suck in their general field. But yeah, they can be jerks sometimes.


My guy friends just make these tiny comments that just get under my skin. But then if I call them out on it, they just patronize me. Sorry I’m venting.


What kind of comments? Like pig ones? Fuck them, it still isn’t a nice thing to do.


Yes, piggish and Jamar like comments. I found myself wishing there was another girl. I just felt ganged up on. Omg. This totally sounds like a Dr. Phil episode.


Gotcha, how rude. Are there no chicks at this place? Are they saying it to you or while in conversation?


Both. And thankfully, one of the guys girlfriends just came over so I’m not alone. I just wish we were equal, like really equal.


If that ever happened, we wouldn’t have sexual harassment at work and women can talk about how small guys dicks were during a one night stand by the water cooler. We all wish for your kind of equality though.


Ugh, my friend Louis just grabbed my side. Like just grabbed it. Then made a joke about me not being ticklish. I just want to go home 😦 I feel so…invaded….I’m sorry, I’m being annoying. Hope you’re having a fun night 🙂


1) Yes he is a douche. 2) don’t let that guy bring you down. 3) not at all 🙂


You know, you just get me.


Lol, I try

Terry and Jerry; a fizzling marriage on the rocks?

This past Sunday, I received a text message from Ang, my best friend from home, as I am watching the new episode of  Boardwalk Empire with my good friend, Jamar. As gun shots fired in the streets of 1930’s Chicago,  I read the message, “I don’t think Jerry’s coming back after Christmas, maybe before.” What the hell is that suppose to mean? I couldn’t quite understand it…

We knew that Ang’s mother, Terry, was having some issues with him, with the two hour drive distance and working late killing any moment she had planned out. Not only does her mom need him, but so do his step children. Ang has to help her mother pay the bills, car payments, etc, all the wild,  Jerry is working at a shoe store living it easy in  his apartment in Hannibal, Missouri. Sometimes I think that either of them are giving their marriage a shot . Terry doesn’t want to sacrifice what she lost before; spending time with her children, a good paying job, a man who truly loves her. I believed Terry back when I was getting for my first semester at Bradley that he was going to be there for her and the kids, that Jerry would stick around when times were difficult, especially poverty line hard.  As time worn on, Ang being back at SCAD and her younger brother finishing high school, their relationship was up. And then poof! He just decides to move after they were living together for only two years. This is so unfair for you, Ang.

What kind of a father would do that? To leave when Terry is jobless and is about to lose her house because of the eviction e-mail from Terry’s step son? I can’t recall the actual date of his departure but the next time I saw Ang, she was more stressed and not well. Their status had changed so quickly for Terry to notice before she was back to over 40 hours weeks that Ang had to pick up the slack. Ang becoming more of an adult than I am, while her step dad is looking for one in a brand new city, since the shoe market up there is nonexistence, he feels that it won’t be an issue.  Weeks flew by, then came the months. When is it going to happen? No body thought it would last longer than temporary. We were wrong. By a long shot. I couldn’t have felt worse for her, after she decides to join the navy because there are no jobs in her field open to her at the moment and she needs to help out her family; her mother and younger brother. Her decision to join isn’t the point where I knew there was trouble.

It happened over Fall Break, while visiting Ang and Terry. A for sale sign has been sitting in the front yard one week before I left for my last semester at Bradley, the sight stings me a little as I walk up to her house. Boxes in the hall, scattered boxes in the living room, boxes in a corner in Ang’s room. To my amazement, they were getting a great start on getting the hell out of there, at least that’s what they kept saying. Ang was looking thinner, stressed about living in a new place, further away from work and her best friend, when she knew her ship off date was April 15th 2014. I didn’t blame her, I told her that she looked great, because i knew she was trying not to show it. Unlike Jerry, which she gladly vented about his overall bad parenting. Frustrated by Terry not telling her anything about their relationship, she took matters into her own hands and called him. “He seems content with Hannibal and doesn’t really want to leave. He has created a life for himself and so has my mom, separately. They’re on completely different schedules and can never compromise on spending time with each other. I don’t know what more I can do.”

Which got me to thinking about men, but more so in Ang’s case. All of the men, except her grandfather, in her life have always let her down. Her step dad, father, brother, step brothers, Rutger Strauss,  her first major crush. No man to support her and her decisions, no guy to give her a shoulder to cry on when things were hard, no dad to take her to the father-daughter dance. I wish I had a magical cloak to cover her from the mistrust and betrayal brought by them. But I can’t and I think that’s the worst part.

Fresh off the Presses

This poem is somewhat centered around this; this being the father figure in Ang’s life not appearing in her life. I would love some feedback, brutal honestly, things that need improving, to add or subtract lines or phrases. Please let me know!

‘Dear Father’

Another man, one more let down

to add to the list of few. All that remains

Air Nike sneakers, Star Trek poster, guilt.

Of course you would do this when no one was

watching, looking over you shoulder like a

jewelry thief at Tiffany’s. All shiny and new.

Just waiting, for the purple line train, to quickly head

back into the Loop, back towards the cloudy midst.

When one door opens, another door shuts up,

as the ticks on the wall, becoming more obsolete

and the visitors outgrew this horrid disease. They look

to you, poor heartless being lying on your flat line bed,

just to watch you die. What more is there to say, nothing.

From you, other than what they obsessively need and

the words you never said–I’m sorry.

At least there was always one that watched over,

protective, wise, held your hand during the first flu shot.

You made the coals of your terrible misfortune

into precious sparkly diamonds.

You gave everyone sunshine on cloudy days, When it

was February, you had May. I’d guess that you’d hear me

Say, what could make you feel this way? The answer is

the best part of her bed time story. Damn.

I wish that door never had to shut, but some things have to be buried.