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Turning 27 Next Sunday!

My 27th birthday is next Sunday. Yay!

Now I could bitch and moan about being a year older, but I’ll rejoice instead. I’ll be in Washington, DC and New York for a couple of days with my best friend. I’m looking forward to another mini getaway. I do hate that I’ll be spending another birthday without my twin brother, but I could use a break. I’ll bring him something back. Last year I brought back Green Tea and bottled Maple Syrup from Canada as souvenirs to a few family members. No seriously, I really did. And they used it. The packaging was cute and it was something they couldn’t get in the states. Goal achieved.

This year I decided that for my birthday, the only gift I want is more readers. I want more people reading and reviewing my book. This would be the best gift of all! It would mean so much to me and it’s something that will last longer than a shirt, dress, gift card, etc. Though I am grateful for whatever I receive, if I receive anything at all (lol).


 

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Just Me, Myself & I…

Sometimes it’s good to sit around and do nothing at all. It’s a beautiful sunny day in Chicago and I spent it lounging around my apartment all day. I’m not even wearing clothes (looks over myself). It’s really one of those free, lazy, chill mode type of days. I haven’t even turned on the TV. I did get the dishes washed though (yay me!). I got a couple of phone calls from friends and siblings asking me to hang out. Didn’t happen. I’m enjoying my own company right now, doing absolutely nothing at all. I’m sitting next to an opened window, so the outside noises are making their way inside. But you won’t tempt me outside noises! I’m not moving. Just relaxing. So often I feel the need to be on the go, always out on the move trying to keep up with the world. It becomes tedious. It has almost become more normal to be “out” and on the go doing nothing, than sitting in the house alone doing nothing. I actually enjoy spending time alone. I’m liberated. I making time to chill out and calm the chatter in my mind and allow my body a day off from the long tiring work week. How many people actually enjoy their own company?

Last year I took a solo trip to Toronto, Canada and had the most amazing time by myself. I got up when I wanted, shopped where I wanted, ate where I wanted, talked and mingled with who I wanted, had dinner in the CN Tower alone (beautiful views by the way), went for a boat ride on Lake Ontario, and did one of those double decker bus tours, what an experience it was! I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. I will do it agin! The people there weren’t friendly and I’m a pretty sociable person myself so I definitely wouldn’t have had a problem finding someone to hang out with while I was there. In fact plenty of people were trying to hang out with me. (Especially for my birthday and since they thought I was so “cool” for just hanging out in another county solo, lol.) Girls from the clothing stores all wanted to hang out, the store manager in BCBG gave me her card and told me to call her so we could party (I never did), another girl from the boat ride asked where I was having dinner later (she was there solo too, only she was from Montreal) and plenty of guys wanted to hang out (of course). I avoided them all. I was having too much fun by myself and didn’t want to interrupt my “groove.” I did have a drink (that I didn’t finish btw because I dislike the taste of alcohol) with the one guy ( I think he was from Peru) at the hotel bar. It was the night of my birthday and he wanted to “show me around”. Mind you, it was at least 10 pm their time. It was night out and I had an early morning flight to catch. This guy had to be nuts to think I’d leave the hotel premises with him. It  gets creepier: He wasn’t even a guest of the hotel. Of course while he was talking and practically begging me to take a walk with him I was making a mental note NOT to go straight up to my hotel room. I thanked him for the drink and conversation and casually walked out of the bar like I was headed up to my room. I casually glanced behind me (intuition) and saw him exit the bar with his eyes fixed on me. Yeah, I definitely was NOT about to end up on Cold Case Files on my birthday night. So I played it cool and walked over to the front desk agent and whispered to him.

Me: (leaned over the counter) Hey, shhhhhh, don’t make it obvious, but I think I’m being followed. Is it a strange guy standing around?

The front desk looked over my shoulder as I turned my head to look back (so much for me not being obvious). Yep, that “friendly guy from the bar that owned his own business” just happened to walk past and look over at me. I smiled as if all were well and looked back at the front dest agent.

Agent: Yeah, he’s suspicious. Would you like for me to have securtiy escort you to your room?

Me: Nah. I don’t want it to be too obvious that I’m on to him ( whatever I assumed the guy was on). He’s not even a guest in the hotel.

Agent: Really? Ok, I’ll walk you up and we’ll take a different way up.

Me: Thanks! (smile.)

The agent and I hopped on an elevator different from the one that I usually used to get to my room. We had had small “elevator talk” about the strange guy and I filled him in on my encounter with him at the bar. Anyhoo, I arrived to my room safe and sound. And that was my little crazy adventure while away.  ……and what was the point of me telling you all of this again? I think I had flashbacks…

Anyway, I received an email from the front desk agent a couple of days later at work, checking up on me. How nice of him. Brownie points for Sheraton Centre Toronto hotel’s staff, I enjoyed my stay!

FYI- I know I mentioned this on a previous post, but Toronto has some phenomenal shopping!

Yeah, so back to the original topic… I really enjoy my own company! Lol.

 

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This Girl, Her Man…and That Got Damn Spider

I just had an hour long conversation with a girl I don’t know about a guy I don’t know from a can of paint.

Saturday night I left out my apartment ready to seize the night with my girls and have some fun. I walked to my car and reached into my bag for my keys. I paused. My smile faded along with my star studded attitude. OMG a spider! Anyone that knows me know I can’t deal with spiders. This spider had decided to make a web right in between the driver side of my car and the passenger side of the car next to mine. There was no way in hell was I even going to attempt to kill it and look like a damn fool screaming and carrying on in my cute little outfit if it somehow crawled on me. So I looked around and spotted three guys walking my way. This was my ticket out. Literally. Lord know I would’ve turned around and went right back upstairs and removed my clothes and makeup and called it a night before I went to war with a spider. Call me a bitch. I am. Anyway, I redirected my attention to the guys who were already checking me out, eager to strike up conversation. I smiled and said frantically, “Hi guys, I’m sooooo sorry to bother you, but there’s a spider on my car and I’m scared. Can one of you kill it? Please.” They all chuckled pretending to be all macho. “Yeah, that’s cool, I got you,” one of them said and literally destroyed the web and spider with his bare hands. My hero. “Oh my God, thank you so much,” I answered searching the ground to make sure the spider was gone. After they reassured me I hurriedly opened my door and climbed in, right when my hero asked me for my number. “Uuuummmmmmmmm,” was all I mumbled. “Let me get in the car  first, ” I added. I got in, placed my bag on the passenger seat, adjusted my mirrors, put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Even at night it was blazing hot outside. My top was coming down. The top on my car that is. I rolled down the windows first. He was still standing there. Me taking my precious little time didn’t make a difference to him. Damn. Maybe I’ll just say I have a guy. I was hot and in a rush and was hoping the spider hadn’t managed to crawl in my car somehow. Wherever  it was. “Hey, what’s your name?” “Veronica,” I said politely and added “thanks for killing that spider for me. I’m such a bitch.” He chuckled. “Can I have your number?” he said with his phone in hand. “Uuuuummmmmmm,” was all I managed to say after looking him over. Not the least bit interested, but it was sweet of him to kill that spider. “Where you headed?” he continued. Now that my windows were rolled down I was ready to back out of my spot. I didn’t feel safe, you know, with the spider and all. “Out with my girls,” I answered putting the car in reverse. ‘”Can I have your number?” he asked again. Damn. Between him, the spider and the heat I was growing frustrated. “Yeah,” I called out my digits. Damn. I should’ve just drove off, said I had a man, or some other lame bullshit excuse. I fucked up. He walked off a happy man. I reversed, relieved to be out of the parking spot. I turned on my radio and plugged my phone up to the car (I can play music on my phone and let it come through the car speakers. Way cool!) and searched for something to get me in the party mood. I let my top down. Then my phone rang which interrupted my music (not cool). I looked down at the unfamiliar number. I looked up and down the street at dude who had caught up with his guys who were now chatting with a group of girls. I ignored the call and the music continued to play (which happened to be “Oh My” by DJ Drama featuring Wiz Khalifa, Roscoe and Fabulous). I drove off and the guy shouted out to me as I rolled past him. I couldn’t make out what he was saying over my music so I turned it down as asked, “The 5-3-0 number…is that your number?”  In the company of his friends and the other other chicks he answered smoothly, ”Yeah.” I smiled. “Ok, bye.” I waved and chuckled. I knew I’d be pressing the ignore button from then on.

Fast forward. I received an unknown call today. I rarely receive private calls and I usually don’t answer them, but today I did. “Hello,” I answered. “Yeah who is this?” A woman’s voice asked on the other end. “You called my phone, who is this?” I asked confused and slightly entertained. Reminder: This is out of the ordinary for me. I thought it might  be one of my friends bored playing on the phone, but nah. I know my friends and they rarely would call me playing on my phone especially during work hours. Needless to say the other end was silent so I ended the call. My phone rang again a few minutes later. I ignored the call. Then it rang again. I answered it annoyed. “Hello?” “Um yeah, do you buy weed from this (she went on to describe the guy in all his hideousness) guy?” “What?” I asked in shock. “I don’t even smoke. Who is this? Why are you calling my phone?” “Do you know such and such guy?” she asked. My first thought…I’m too single for all this drama. I told her no. I had no idea who or what the hell she was talking about. Reminder: I’m single and I’m NOT messing with anyone’s man. So I thought. She thought differently. She accused me of lying. WTF. Somebody’s man had my number cause she was on the other end tripping. So my mind raced back over the weekend. Hmmmmmmm. Nope. I wasn’t too willy nilly with my number though I had my share of admirers that asked for the digits. She described the dude again and it hit me. Well it didn’t quite hit me. It more like tickled me. Really? Nooooo, couldn’t be. That guy who killed that spider wouldn’t dare have a chick calling my phone over him. He was so….lackluster. That’s putting it nicely. Shame on me for not just giving him an excuse. He actually called my phone twice after the initial call and got the ignore button. I asked her, “what’s his number?” That caught her off guard. I repeated the question. She answered “5-3-0….” I stopped her before she could finish. “Oh my God, can you please tell him to stop calling me.” I begged her. I reassured her she had NOT A GOT DAMN THING to worry about. Hell, I was actually shocked he had somebody that would care enough about him to pick up the phone and call me! I told her me and him NEVER had a conversation (got to be f’in kidding me- he had the nerve to be playing her???). That wasn’t enough for her. She went on to question, how he got my number? Where the “exchange” took place (like he was cold enough to be exchanging any got damn thing)? Asked where Hyde Park was? *crickets.* Pause. Then she asked me…. “are you mixed? You sound mixed?” What the fuck? She went on to explain that she’s not ugly by far. *crickets.* I ended the call in shock. I told her over and over again that dude didn’t have a chance in hell. I didn’t have his number stored in my phone! Hell, I don’t even remember the man’s name. I even explained  to her that I was going to send him off as I had successfully done, but she kept on going. After the call with her, guess who text my phone? Mr. 5-3-0 himself.  He text asking if someone called me twice. I replied yes and told him I’d appreciate it if neither one of you called again. Yay, I was free. Wait, but then he sends a text saying she got him mixed up with his cousin. I let crickets chirp on that ass. I should have let them continue chirping when he asked for my number. He had the sense to heed my advice and hasn’t responded since. She on the other hand….

She called about three more times. I ignored the first two calls. I answered on the third. She was a woman scorned. I knew what that felt like. You see, I didn’t give two cares about the dude, but who knows how she felt about him. I thought he was definitely not fighting over, she thought he was something worth calling me for.  I thought he was not the most attractive guy and looked like he had dirty underpants, she probably loved the hell out of his dirty underpants. I would never answer his calls, she probably sat around waiting on his call. So I answered calmly, “Hello.” She asked, “Can I just ask you one more question?” I answered “sure”. “How much do you weigh? You not heavyset are you?” Damn. She was definitely scorned. She wanted to send me a picture of herself. She asked me what I looked like. I didn’t think that was important. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was sitting around ready to do a compare and contrast with a woman she knew nothing about over a guy that probably gave out his number to about three more girls that night. Our conversation went from what I looked like to her being excited and thankful that I took the time to hear her out, encourage her, and not get all argumentative with her, which she was pretty surprised about. She went on to tell me about how men had done her wrong. I listened. She went to tell me she never gets out much. I listened. She went on to tell me about her two children. I listened. She said she was twenty-nine and went on to tell me how her and the guy met. I listened. She went on to tell me how upset and hurt she was. I listened. She let it all out to a complete stranger who she thought was seeing her man. She was hurting. I let her know I understood. I told her not to compare herself to other women no matter what. Since I don’t have any children, I know this is easier said than done, but I encouraged her to get out more. Have a zest for life. I don’t care if it’s going to a bookstore or going downtown for some retail therapy. It could be a walk along the lake, a burrito bowl from Chipotle, reading a good book, playing in makeup, talking with her children, sitting in the park, traveling…something other than sitting around waiting on him. I didn’t encourage her to leave him. I usually seldom encourage such things. Instead I told her she’ll leave when it’s time. I told her not to beat herself up about it. It may be today, tomorrow, next month, next year…but I she’ll leave when it’s over. If it ever ends. People move at their own pace. I told her if she’s hurt, be hurt, if she wanted to cry, cry, it’s okay. She talked some more. I listened. She thanked me me for listening. She apologized for calling me private. Not an issue. I understood. I wished her well, ready to end the call. She thanked me again and said she’d call me later……Uuuummmmmmmmmmmmmm. *crickets*

That damn spider.

 

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If ALL Men Are Dogs, then…..

I don’t believe all men cheat. I don’t believe all men are dogs. I don’t believe if given the chance every man will cheat. If I believed those things then I couldn’t envision myself with my Mr. Right. I couldn’t envision living happily ever after with my Mr. Perfect. I wouldn’t believe in getting married. No hope for getting married. No fun envisioning having my first child with a man I love if  I believed he would later leave me for the next interesting woman. If I believed all men were dogs and cheaters, I wouldn’t cry tears of happiness at a wedding instead tears of sorrow. Poor her. I would walk into every new potential relationship empty, boggled down, pessimistic, blind, unreceptive to real love. If I believed all men were dogs I’d possibly miss out on my Mr. Right. If I believed all men were dogs, I wouldn’t believe there was some special guy out there for me. It’s no benefit, no fun, no happiness in chanting the anthem, ‘all men are dogs.’ Men are human beings. Man or woman, everybody wants to be loved, feel special, want that special someone. Some men aren’t at that stage in their lives. Some women aren’t at that stage in their lives. The word ‘man’ and ‘dog’ aren’t synonymous. If I believed all men were cheaters then why would I even bother with moving on from a stale relationship? I might as well just stay with the ‘dog’ I have. I’d see no point in moving on if the next man is going to ‘dog me out’ the same way. At least I know his ‘tricks’ by now. If I believed all men cheated, then I’d be stuck in a unhappy relationship and I’ll grow to be one unhappy bitter cold hearted woman. Who wants to be that woman? What man would want to be with that woman? I don’t want to be that woman. If I believed all men cheated I’d spend the majority of my relationship or marriage miserable, on edge trying to justify my thoughts, uncomfortable, worried, trying to catch him before he ‘cheats’ or catch him up  if when he does…how much fun would that be? If I believed all men were cheaters, that new and exciting feeling of giving my phone number to a guy whose vibe I was feeling would instantly disappear. What would I have to look forward to? He’s just another clown, right? Wrong. He has potential. He has the potential to treat me like I want to be treated, has the potential to love me without loving two other women simultaneously. He has the potential to realize a woman’s worth and treat her accordingly and if he finds a woman deserving of being his wife, he has the potential of being a deserving husband. If I believed all men were dogs, I wouldn’t have the sense to appreciate a good quality man. I wouldn’t be deserving of a good quality man. If I believed all men cheated then I’d deserve a cheater because the universe delivered to me what  my negative and foolish thoughts attracted. I’d be cheating myself to believe ALL men are cheaters.

 

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For the Love of Makeup

Yesterday I went Downtown and paid a visit to Sephora (both in the Nordstrom building and the Water Tower) and checked out a few makeup counters in Nordstrom (I also tried on a pair of the cutest Prada flats in the shoe department, but I digress…). They now have a Burberry makeup counter. I had no idea Burberry had a makeup line. I haven’t tried any of their products, so I’m not quite sure what to think, but I will say their packaging IS STUNNING! (To me at least.) See below. Your thoughts?

I’m not straying away from my Bobbi Brown  foundation and concealer or NARS blushes, so Burberry better have an “off the chain” lip-gloss, shadow, eyeliner pencil, mascara, or something in order for me to buy anything from them (lol). I guess I’ll check them out eventually. I didn’t buy any makeup yesterday, but I am interested in adding some more lip colors to the mix (below are pics of my makeup collection).

My must-haves are:

The best foundation in the world! (Ok, my world)

Try it you will be hooked!

I love their concealor, hands down! I made the dreadful mistake of buying Laura Mercier's, never again will I stray.

OMG, is all I can say.

It's a must have...

Check it out ladies…and lady-like men :)

It’s so much fun being a girl!

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Not Only Can I Make a Great Sandwich…

I just made some hot wings…homemade hot wings…THE GREATEST HOT WINGS EVER! (Can I have a moment please?) Why is this newsworthy? Because I finally started learning my way around the kitchen. A part of me REALLY wanted to learn how to cook…and live to tell about it. I’m learning that cooking isn’t all that difficult. For me it’s a matter of getting in the kitchen and going for it (and not being a lazy ass). It’s another way to be creative. I’m free to put my own spin on things. I’m really getting a kick out of this “cooking” thing. LOL. I  have a long way to go (I literally just learned how to fry chicken, which also came out pretty damn good by the way), but I’m glad I started. :)

Maybe I should've put them on a plate and dressed them up with a side of Bleu Cheese...and a celery stick. They are yummy. I promise.

 

Admirer in Disguise

Hey you

leave her alone

tend to your own

don’t be afraid to be as beautiful as you secretly think she is

you admire her but won’t tell her

instead you talk about her

laugh at her to your friends

but you still notice her

you give her attention

there’s something you like about her

be bold and compliment her

don’t belittle her

you can’t dim her light

she shines

you shine too

but you’re so blinded by her brightness

You aren’t aware of your own

Hey pretty girl

No not her, you

See, you’re beautiful too

You just don’t realize it

that’s the difference between her and you

She bask in her glory

you bask in her glory too

But you have your own

Give her room, let her shine

There’s enough spotlight for the both of you

No need to down her

She deserves a standing ovation

You can sit and watch her or rise to the occasion

 

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When I get bored I do this…

One of my favorite things to do when I’m bored at home is organize my closet…ok, my shoes. I’m quite a shoe whore. See below.

 

And there you have it!

 

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I’m Just Saying…

I never thought starting my second novel would be so difficult. It’s frustrating. I’m overwhelmed. Confused. Uncertain. Aaaahhhh (that’s me screaming).

So my first novel has been around for almost two months (okay, not too long) and I’m excited about it. I’ve sold waaayyy more than I did last month (that’s when I announced my creation to the world) and  that makes me happy. The reviews make me happy…the good and the not so good. I am thankful for them. Good reviews makes my heart smile, makes me feel like “Hey, you really are a writer.” It’s exciting to know that someone actually took hours, days, or even weeks out of their precious life to read my work…and enjoyed it. I like entertaining my readers. I think that’s what stories are all about, escaping your life and peeking into and hopefully becoming engrossed in someone else’s. Some readers have become engrossed in my story while other readers said to themselves, “uh, I’ll pass.” I thank them for taking a peek anyway. When I received my first “not so good” review, I was crushed and said to myself “Damn, I suck. My life is over, I’m not a writer.”  Okay, no I didn’t, but that’s definitely how I felt. The few “not so good reviews” stuck out more to me than the numerous “good reviews.” In the end, it’s all in how you look at criticism. You can bury your head or you can rise to the challenge. In the end I have nothing to prove, but I do like to improve, so keep all the reviews coming. :)

I want to give a round of applause to every writer, artist, singer, rapper, chef, graphic designer, painter, dancer, poet, designer, actor/actress, hairstylist, etc. for I have learned how much courage it takes to put your creation on display for the world to dissect and rip apart. I find myself much more in tune with things I took for granted before. For example, at my gig (I still have bills to pay while working on my dream of doing nothing but writing and traveling the world) there’s a chef that comes in and whip up meals for lunch. Even from where I sit, I can hear him whistling to himself as he cut up carrots and broccoli for his broccoli of cream soup. One day I walked into the kitchen for a glass of ice water and again he was whistling to himself as he prepared salads for lunch. As I filled my glass with water and ice I glanced over at him. He was too engrossed in his work to notice me staring. In his mind it was just him and the food he was preparing in the room. That’s passion. He enjoyed dressing up his salads. He didn’t just throw salad fixings together and sell them. He took his time and with his passion turned something as simple as a salad to art. It was his art-form. I smiled. I was inspired. Suddenly a coworker walked in and asked “Chef, what’s for lunch?” He could’ve simply responded, “salad.” But to him it wasn’t just a salad. He went on to list everything that was in the salad, from lettuce, to carrots, to chicken breast, to pineapples and so forth. It sounded delicious and looked delicious. After taking a peek, the coworker responded, “how much?” the chef said, “Seven bucks, soup is available as well.”  The coworker responded, “Seven bucks? For that? It shouldn’t be no more than five dollars. It’s just a salad.”

I thought the salad was good by the way and a nice amount for the cost. Some disagreed and hated that they wasted their seven bucks.  And even now, even if he’s only selling six seven dollar salads, he still craftily whips it together, whistling and humming to himself all the while. I don’t know what my purpose for telling you that story was, but I knew what it felt like to be him.

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How Deeply I Need HIM…

So I decided that I want “How Deeply I Need You,” by Shekinah Glory Ministry to be the song that I walk down the aisle to. Actually I think I’ll be able to fit the whole wedding party in. Even better. The version I’m listening to now is nearly Eleven minutes long. It’s such a beautiful song. I want a beautiful summer wedding outdoors with soft mesmerizing wedding colors. I still haven’t decided between a horse and carriage or a classic Rolls Royce (white). Maybe I’ll come in one and leave in the other. And my lucky “husband to be” will be the perfect gentleman. He’ll cry when he sees me walking down the aisle to join him to partake in the rest of his life. Ok, he won’t cry, but he’ll definitely wipe away at least one tear. He’ll be a man of character, loyalty and honesty. He’ll be my best friend. He’ll domesticate me, turn me from a single woman to a wife. He’ll make me want to learn how to cook, make me unselfish, tame me, make me submissive. I’ll listen to him, care for him, cook for him, clean for him, love him, hug him, kiss him, and grow old with him. We’ll share good times, great laughs, and have beautiful and healthy children (or not have any children at all. I’m still not 100% certain that I want children, but I’m open to change). Our families will happily become one and expand. We’ll go on vacations and travel the world. I’ll be loyal to him, trustworthy, reliable, and appreciative. I’ll support him on all his endeavors. He’ll support me. We’ll encourage one another. He’ll inspire me to step into my own greatness. He won’t allow me to feel sorry for myself, won’t pity me, he’ll uplift me. I’ll do the same. He’ll make me feel protected. He’ll be my king.We’ll be deserving of each other……..

This song really makes my imagination run wild.

I’m looking forward to the man I’m marrying more than the wedding itself.

Anyway, have a listen click on youtube.

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