Back Again
It’s been a long while since I have posted an entry. I think about a month. Sorry about that. Sometimes I get burned out. I was so anxious to have a new layout but I went braindead everytime I opened Photoshop or Fireworks. So I went with something simple (again lol).
This is version four of missnexus.com. I hope you like it.
I’m already getting tired of my Tweet song, so I’m sure I’ll be changing the songs fairly often.
What’s going on in my life.. umm well I’m STILL looking for another job. Things look hopeful but not promising (yet). We’re scheduled to get DirecTV satellite tomorrow. I’m so happy I could do a three backflips into the livingroom right now. I haven’t had cable in over a year. I miss the music videos, ‘Sex in the City,’ ‘Oz’ and ‘Soul Food.’ I hope all goes well with the installation tomorrow morning *double crosses fingers, eyes and toes.*WWE is coming to town next Friday for a house show, but I don’t have tickets. I just hope that they don’t have the nerve to sell tickets for a PPV that night. I will be highly pissed if they do that.
My cat has gone extremely crazy lately. Wait, he was already crazy, now he’s insane. He’s been doing this thing for the last 4-5 days; jumping on top of my stove to get to the counter and then he knocks off my loaves of bread onto the floor. Tigger likes bread, especially that sweet Hawaiian bread. But I don’t understand this because I don’t have any Hawaiian bread, it’s just plain old potato bread, Texas toast and white bread. Yes, I discipline him but it’s not working. Ugh. What to do, what to do?
Go Kelly, you won the American Idol competition! Now can we stop the press on this?
Umm back to the site.. I still need to get my tagboard back up and add some more pics and other stuff, but in the meantime au revoir
(yes I stole your French words JT *evil grin*).
Pardon Me
Please excuse my lack of updates. I’m working on a new layout. I need something different.
Me. Me. Me.
New Poem. I also submitted it to Poetry.com but since you are limited on text entry, that version is edited. The following is the full poem:
Me. Me. Me.
Black. Woman. Intelligent. Inquisitive.
Independent. Beautiful. Seductive. Sensual. Emotional. Spoiled. Blunt. Sarcastic.
Open-Minded.
Humble.
Daughter.
Niece.
Best friend.
Sister. Grand Daughter. Great-Grand Daughter.
Teacher. Counselor. Student. Negotiator.
Lover.
Love. Sex. Hugs. Spring. Flowers. Clouds. Blue. Brown. Music. Books. Pictures.
Laundry Attendant. Secretary. Student Assistant. Cashier. Sales Associate.
Student.
Officer. Agent. Diplomat. Ambassador. Secretary of State. Leader.
Best friend. Lover. Wife. Mother. Grand Mother.
Me.
Me.
Me.
Facts of Life
“You take the good, you take the bad you take them both and there you have
the facts of life
the facts of life
There’s a time you’ve got to go and show you’re growing and now you know
the facts of life
the facts of life …”
JT pointed out my first grey hair to me today. It’s all nice and silvery. Am I mad, sad, depressed? Nope. It doesn’t bother me.
It’s a part of life and it was bound to happen, right? I still feel like the same twenty-four-and-a-half-year-old. I’m just thankful
it’s not a long streak like Rogue’s (from X-Men).
I should call my mom and celebrate with her. “I AM WOMAN (WITH A GREY HAIR), HEAR ME ROAR.”
Holodeck
I need my very own holodeck, yes I’m talking about the holodeck you’ve seen on Star Trek The Next Generation. Sometimes I feel like I need to escape from reality if only for a few minutes. I wouldn’t necessarily be interacting with other people on my holodeck. Most of my scenarios would involve beaches, sunsets, waterfalls, mountains and such. Sometimes, I just want to get away. Get away from what? All the troubles in the world; but primarily myself. My mind is constantly thinking about a hundred and one things at once.
Feels like a sewing machine going out of control. Sometimes I want to get away from myself, escape from this reality.
Since I don’t have a holodeck, let me go listen to some smooth jazz or r&b while I escape from this reality.
Frustration
What a extremely long day. My job is mentally stressing me bad. All day long it’s been extremely hot outside. I work right around the corner and by the time I walked home from work (only a five minute walk) the heat had consumed me. My stomach immediately started aching. I washed dishes, talked with JT, cleaned Tigger’s litterbox and then fell out on my bed. I slept for about two and a half hours then realized I missed dinner. It’s a quarter to midnight now, and I’m still not all that hungry.
One hundred degree weather can really mess shit up for me. Thankfully, it’s cool in the house though.
On the bright side of things, The Rock won the Undisputed title last night at
Hooters and Chicken
JT, Anthony and I are going to Hooters to see the WWE PPV (Vengeance) tonight. Last month, was the first time I went to Hooters when we saw King of the Ring.
We had quesadillas and fried chicken. Anthony and JT were not impressed by the wings; meanwhile I tore them suckas up. I love chicken, that’s all to that. Tonight, I don’t know what they gonna eat, but I know what I’m gonna chow down on while I watch me some WWE, chicken.
Welcome to Atlanta
The “Welcome to Atlanta (Remix)” video featuring Jermaine Dupri, Puff Daddy (err P. Diddy), St. Lunatics and Snoop, is my favorite video out right now. The song was already my jam; the beat is tight, I be bouncin all over the place. Then the video came out and I got really excited when they showed the Lunatics in Busch Stadium. My only beef with the video: Why is it that every city (Atlanta, New York and Long Beach) except for Saint Louis had a humongous posse representin them?
All we (STL) had (in addition to the Lunatics) were Fernando Vina, Toya and a few other extras. Oh well, all in all I enjoyed the video and everytime they get to the Saint Louis part, I still go crazy.
Twenty Four Japanese Children Selling on Ebay
Ebay never amazes me with what they allow to be auctioned.
24 small Japanese children for sale.. oh my this is better than the box of 21 broken Nokia phones!
Don’t get all worked up, it’s not for real.
Sick humor, I know.
Bill Collectors