A TRUE STORY

Might be a little long...but it's a good one :)

Shortly after graduating HS I enlisted in the US Army. The training period is for 9 weeks. I was there for way over the normal period due to some behavioral issues (bad attitude, hard headed, stubborn, wouldn't stand in formation the right way etc) and that was in the first two weeks. I knew what I was getting into when I enlisted, but I still was not mentally prepared for what was to come. I could talk about my whole time there, but I won't. But, I will talk about a major portion of the basic training period. And that is BRM (Basic Rifle Marksmanship). This section of training is three weeks long and is spent learning about and taking care of your weapon (never a gun).


The training was in the field with the M16. We would get a grade of “Go” or “No Go” once we accomplished each exercise. When you fire, the kick is so bad it feels like it’s breaking the whole side of your face. The shooting position is on the ground with your cheek pressed hard against the steel. Needless to say, I was not feeling that one bit. As the days and soon weeks went by, I was determined to get that GO on my field exercise. I spent two and a half weeks of my biyatch of a Drill Sergeant ridiculing me, yelling at me, smoking me (push ups until she got tired of counting). I never qualified during the whole time so I spent more time on the field than others. All I wanted was to get a GO, to make my DS stop being a B to me. I felt like Gomer Pile in Full Metal Jacket. I hated her. Her evilness gave me that boost that I needed in the training.



When qualification day came, I was nervous. This would be the day when you get a Marksman, Sharpshooter or Hawkeye ranking. There were some people in my training that I knew would knock it out the box on qualification day because they had Go's all during the training. They were feeling themselves; hell I was even feeling them. I wanted to be them. When it was my turn, my hands were clammy, throat was dry but for whatever reason I felt freer. I resolved that this was it. Do or Die. I got into position. I was ready. I didn't know what to expect, I just knew that this course was different from training. First target nailed it, then they kept popping up and I got them shot by shot. With controlled breaths and a steady cheek, I saw each target and aimed. Then it was over. I stood up. When all was accounted for, I nearly jumped for joy. Pvt ____ certified Marks(wo)man. First time GO. Hell yes. I was overjoyed. I even went up to my DS and told her the news (she didn't know yet) and for a second it looked like she had a half a smile...more like a smirk. When we got back to the base and had our "free time" I called my mom and my homeboy's mom (I graduated with her son and he enlisted also). I was too excited. During my three weeks of training, I called them with my grunts and groans so it felt good to finally call with some good news. They knew how hard I worked and how much I wanted to qualify the first round. It was a wonderful feeling.

**I failed to mention that the people that I envied that qualified at the ranges leading up to the big day, DID NOT qualify the first day. Needless to say that made my pot even sweeter.**

Though there were many things that I accomplished during Basic Training, this segment was most memorable. I felt defeated during the whole three weeks of BRM. I felt like I wouldn't master it, but I didn't give up. I wanted to, lord knows I did. I even wanted to turn the rifle on my DS because she was such a B (yea sounds dramatic, I know it's all mental, but her ass was EVIL, she treated me the WORSE). In retrospect, I'd like to think that maybe she saw a bit of me in her (not the evil part but the determined by all means part). Whatever it was that I endured on those days definitely made me stronger. I'm one of those people that won't listen if someone says "You can't do it" or "You'll fail" etc. My thoughts to that are "Oh really, well watch me." Call it NY cockiness or whatever. I might've cried and cursed but that's something I can't help, I'm an emotional temperamental Cancer and that's just how I roll.

To sum it all up, BT was no easy feat. It brought a lot out of me. A lot! But when I look back I don't regret going. Besides it’s always a fun story to tell. When I think about how I’m struggling and want to give up, I think back to those days and say, “This is nothing.”


Today's Army is definitely DIFFERENT. When I was in, there NO pictures let alone videos being taken while in training. But take a look at what these soldiers went through wheich is what most if not all training soldiers go through.

This was my LEAST FAVORITE part of Basic Training
The Gas Chamber. The temptation to run out is REAL!



This was on of my FAVORITE parts of Basic Training
Blue Phase NIT - Night Infiltration Course

Maybe Next Time...

Ever see someone on the train that catches your eye and then kick yourself once you get off because you didn’t say anything? Well take a gander at this tale, I’m sure that it might be familiar to some…

I was comatose on the train going to one of my jobs. At the time I was working in Brooklyn after work and on the weekends. On this particular day I was very sleepy so I decided to catch some Z’s on my hour long commute. I slept most of the way, only to wake up and found you sitting next to me. I had no idea how I must've looked or how my breath smelled so I tried to “catbath” myself real quick...you know get the invisible crust out, and lick the teeth to get whatever residue that might've went into my mouth when I was asleep. You were reading a book, something about Dave Chappelle and a conspiracy. I mentioned a blog that was related to the subject matter and to my surprise you were a reader too (Stuff Black People Hate – MY FAV).

I asked what it was about and you engaged me in conversation like you were waiting for me, or anyone for that matter, to ask about it. By the time I had all of my facilities, it was time to get off the train. What pained me at the moment was that I didn't have the right amount of courage to slip you my business card or to even ask you for your name, but I do know that you were quite the looker. When I got off the train I kicked myself because I didn't make any moves. But then again, you didn't make any either. The funny thing is I thought about posting one of those Missed Connection ads on Craig's List but thought better of it because I had my chance then blew it. Besides if the feeling were mutual you would have made the move too then right?

Late XMas Post

This year I was in charge of Christmas dinner. We decided that because my apt is bigger we'd do it there. The pot got sweeter, no pun intended, when I told my mom that I would be cooking everything. Everything, meaning my very first turkey. This is no small feat. I was horrified at hearing the tales of turkey nightmares, it seems that everyone's first turkey turns out to be a disaster. I was determined that I was not going to allow that to happen.

As the days drew closer to the big day, I went to buy my turkey so that it could defrost and be ready for game time. At that point (the Monday before Christmas) I had my turkey and the cheese for the once a year mac and cheese and the cream cheese for the frosting for my very first red velvet cake. Nothing else had been purchased yet. I am a last minute sort of gal (especially when it comes to spending $$). The Wednesday before is when I felt my heart drop down to my knees. I don't live close to a good supermarket; the Fine Fare up the block doesn't count. Pathmark is my best bet when it comes to heavy duty shopping and they have the best hours (they are open for 24 hours). Well on this Christmas Eve, the bastards decided to close at 7 pm (expletive)!!! I got there at 7:18. To say that I was shocked and on the verge of tears is an understatement. I just knew that I was going to get my stuff and go about my business, no such luck. My next option was the Super Stop and Shop. I saw a couple of people in the parking lot and you couldn’t tell me that they weren’t still open. Umm… wrong again. Those assholes closed at 7pm also. At this point I thought that Christmas dinner was going to be canceled. Or at the very least we would have a turkey lol. Then an angel said to me, CTown is still open. I had no idea where it was but I took my ride or die bish (shopping cart) on the bus and went to find the beacon of hope. When I got there it looked closed and I felt the tears welling up. I began to kick myself for waiting to the last minute. But then I turned the corner and the magical doors opened. I wanted to do a dance of joy, I was so happy. It's not a super store, but hell they had what I needed.

Once I got home I proceeded to cook after resting for an hour because once I start, I don't stop until I am close to finish. For events such as this, I do all of my prep work the night before so that all I have to do is throw the food in the oven or on top of the stove. The menu was serious and was going to take a lot of work.

It was very brave of me to embark on this endeavor. But I did it. The food was GREAT. I made my mother congratulate herself on teaching me how to cook lol. The turkey was a hit (toot toot). It wasn't dry, when I cut it open it didn't start bleeding, the giblets weren't left on the inside, mom was pleased. She was the one that scared me the most. And is the hardest to please. When I got her approval that did it for me. My mother is the type that will not lie to me just because she's my mother. She's my toughest critic, next to myself of course.

*Side note: one of my besties that attended even ate some turkey and she's a vegetarian lol. All the friends that had food liked it and that made my little nurturing Cancer self happy.

All in all if I had to do it again, I would. It was a good experience for me. I've cooked major meals before but this was definitely a test of the wills. I have battle scars to prove (true test of someone that's in the kitchen a lot: burns, blisters and cuts).

On that note, thanks for reading and I hope that your holiday was pleasant.

I hope that your New Year is going GREAT!

The menu:
Herb butter roasted turkey
Roast Beef (my first one also, not bad at all)
Mac and cheese
String beans w/ turkey bacon (vegetarian friend who eats turkey bacon and other friends that don't eat pork -good compromise)
Cabbage
Yams w/ marshmallows
Potato Salad (the best ever)
Mom's Ham
Homemade Red Velvet Cake w/ Cream Cheese Frosting (very first time making)

This was proposal worthy food if I must say so myself.

What's Beef? Or Is It?

Well look at what we have here. Looks like there was some DRAMA between two soulful songbirds Miss Barbara Mason and Miss Shirley Brown. I won't talk much about it because it's all speculative. Apparently Shirley had the man first, Barbara swooped in and took said man. The songs are here. You judge for yourself :).

Shirley Brown - Woman to Woman



Barbara Mason - From His Woman To You


Barbara Mason - You've Got the Papers, I've Got the Man


Thanks for the read.

How many of you been involved in this sort of thing?

"Beatin' My Time"

"Caught in the middle I don't know what to do"

You know how you hear a song when you are growing up and you like it just because it's hot, but you never really paid much attention to the lyrics. Well that's what happened when I heard this song a couple of years ago. I just thought it was a good dance track and knew that Big and Kim sampled it. But, when I heard it again, my ears opened up and I heard the words loud and clear. This song is so relevant in this age of confused men that are fighting themselves with the urges that are natural to them.

Check the song. It's comical but real.

Barbara Mason - Another Man



Thanks for the love :)

Excuse Me, That's an Exit!

For the past year and some change I’ve had a “friend” aka THE DEALER that I see from time to time. I’ve known him for a while and we started out as just friends. Once I moved on my own though, we began to see more of each other. Well lately he’s been asking the question that seems to be on the minds of a lot of guys that I encounter. It's a request that I feel should only be granted to someone that is boyfriend/hubby status. I say this because you have to save something for the honeymoon right? I mean this is some serious stuff right here. This is not your run of the mill missionary, reverse cowgirl, doggy style… NO. He wants to PUT THAT WHERE? BACK THERE. And all I can say is “UH, UH”. You're good. I'm good. We're good. Because I already know if that happens, game over, party done. The break away will be harder. Instead of him being the dealer, he would be the dude that took my other jewel. The booty will never be the same again.

I mean what is the fascination with booty action? He tells me that he wants to try it because it's something that no one else has tried. (At one point I was saving it for someone who had my heart wrapped up in a sling, but then he "changed"…)
The dealer thinks that it would bring something new to the situation. My response was, “Something new could be getting some PDA action.” I’m not against doing something like that. LOL. Another question that comes to mind is “WHY THE HELL DO GUYS ALWAYS WANNA BE THE FIRST AT SOMETHING WHEN IT COMES TO WOMEN? WTF! Why is that so important? He isn't my boyfriend. He's just my part-time lover. I told him that if I gave up the booty, he would have to be my man and if he thought that I was crazy now, just wait. He wants to do serious ish without getting serious. So now I am at a point where I am thinking about moving on (change of pennery anyone?) or just see him every once in a while. This way when/if we do see each other, we'll feel it that much more. I consulted a couple of my male friends
to see what the big idea was. They basically told me to stop being scared and just do it or stop thinking about it if I’m not. Plain and simple.

After all that’s been said here, I will admit that I did some research on exit only entries. Seems to be a lot of prep work involved for this endeavor lol. I vote no.

Ahh the problem with being an insatiable single woman in a cold lonely world.

That is all.

Am I the only woman that is asked this question? I'm pretty sure that I'm not.

Thanks for reading

Some viewing material:
Some TANG for dat ass (no pun intended lol)
Samwell – What, What (In The Butt)

1st Jam of 09

I know that many people look at my man Mike like he has MAJOR issues... Well let's face it. HE DOES! Love Mike to death and will probably scream and faint if I ever saw him in person. The other night before my NYE extravaganza I was jammin' to Michael's Off The Wall - "Get On The Floor". I don't think that I ever knew how HOT that song was. It's a serious dance jam and if I hear it when I'm out, I'm definitely getting on the floor. So with that being said...ENJOY.

Michael Jackson - Get On The Floor

The Preface

Oh yea, and I know that I didn't need to do this. I was free writing on the train and this is what I came up with.



Normally I try to keep the subject matter of my blog fairly PG-13. Seeing as you never know who is reading, I like to keep certain aspects of my life “private”. I know that there are a lot of judgmental people who lurk blogs and make malicious comments so this has been the reason why I leave out certain details or don't get to descriptive. Me personally, I can give two shits about what someone else does. We each have our own lives and crosses to bear. Now don't get me wrong people that do horrid things to women and children deserve to be punished. It's obvious that those folk have a sickness that they can't control. But I digress.

With each blog I give a little piece of my soul. My readers and followers have read some stuff that only 3 people in my life know about. Of course the readers don't know everything, but they know enough. I try to be as real as possible. Whether it's so you can learn from my past mistakes, laugh (some of the ish is too sad not to laugh), think or just take a glimpse into the life of a single black woman living on her own in the city. Some people have NO idea what my day-to-day experiences are. As the days go by, I am still trying to figure me out. I don't proclaim to have all the answers. I just have lived.

Alright, that’s all. I felt like I needed to post this one to preface tomorrow’s blog. It’s veering from my usual subject matter and I had to consult some folks to see if it was as bad as I thought, but tomorrow, I guess you will be the “judge.” In the mean time thanks for reading and tell a friend to tell a friend.

NEW YEARS KICKS

There are times in our young adult life when we go out for a good time and our sole motivation is to get twisted. Well maybe not all of you, but I know that I've been one of those people that thought that way once or twice. It's usually when I have to pay an insane amount of money in a club when I could've stayed my ass home and got tipsy for free.

Since I've been a drinker, I've had my share of drunken excursions. I had my first drink when I was 18 and in the military. We would get weekend passes and go to the hotels and clubs and just act crazy. I had no clue what I was doing, but discovered that clear alcohol was not my friend. Honeybuns either for that matter (someone tried to feed me one and it ended up across the room). The details of that night are very shaky but needless to say, my battle buddy and I got into some shenanigans that I won't dare post here lol.

That was my first drinking event and after that, I didn’t drink again until I was of age. Since then I’ve had my share of moments where I woke up and thought “what the F was I thinking?”

Moments of Shame…
Wreckless (99), your weave and natural hair don't match i.e. afro on top, French refined tracks on the bottom (07), you fall backwards down a flight of stairs (NYE 08), you open a cab door while the cab is moving, on the bridge (02,08), you get home, collapse on the kitchen floor and lay there because it feels good (06), and finally you see a Memphis Bleek look alike @ Cheetah and tell him that you are leaving with him (01 or 02).

Yea ummm each of those times I had to blame it on the Aaaa Alcohol (Jamie Foxx voice). It's one heck of a drug. I don't drink heavily, but when I do, it's all hands on deck because either I'm dancing around non stop like I'm on an episode of Soul Train or I'm wandering around the club looking for my sobriety.

This past NYE made me remember the last times I was TWISTED. After each drunk excursion, I wake up and say I’M NEVER DRINKING AGAIN. That usually works for a couple of months or until the next celebration. However, every drunk time doesn't leave to hangovers or stomachaches, they just leave me with pictures to lock away and stories to recollect the next day. Last week I went in to the party knowing that I was GOING IN. First of all I paid TOO much money to hang out with strangers. I told my friends that "I better meet somebody or get f-d up." Unfortunately it was the latter.

The day leading up to the big event I was suffering from out of this world cramps. I didn’t have an appetite, I just ate so that I can take my "trusty" meds, Aleve. I went to get my nails done, bought my panty hose, went home, ate breakfast (3pm) took my medication and went to sleep. When I woke up, the cramps were mostly gone so I figured the Aleve was done working its magic. Hours later we get to the party. I pour my Henny straight, then realize that I don’t party like that anymore, and pour some cranberry in to the glass...ahhh better. Then it's 12 am. It's 2009, time to pop some champagne. They gave us the cheap ish and it was DISGUSTING. I drank a couple of sips and sat the rest down. I think that's when things got hazy. My friends tell me that I didn't even drink a lot (we monitor each other...well one of us monitors lol). I knew that I didn't have a lot to drink, no more than my usual. I’m usually good with two cups. I know my limit.

The next day I woke up on my best friend’s couch, runs in my hose, hair in disarray, cramps and STARVING. I also noticed that I was sore. Once I was coherent, my two besties told me what happened. There was a fall, which explains the bruises. I remembered most of what happened once we left. There was a fight and I had to pull some crazy broad off of one of my friends (imagine that in 3 inch heels while wobbly lol). Later that day we went to dinner and queried about my drunkenness. I mean I did have less to drink than everyone. Then it dawned on us that the Aleve that I thought was out of my system was still in my system wrecking havoc. I knew that it was something, I felt drugged like someone slipped me a “mickey”. The true culprit of the night was the cramps and the Aleve. But I’m STILL NEVER DRINKING AGAIN!

Lesson learned.