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Thursday, July 10, 2008

  • Complicating Things

    I guess it's about time for an update, right?

        I think I'll explain the relationship complications I've been experiencing.
        A few weeks ago (Friday, June 20) I met a woman named Taryn. Well, actually, she answered an ad I posted--I need friends and I don't go outside unless absolutely necessary (stupid Texas heat is to blame). We emailed back and forth for a while and I finally gave her my number; we texted back and forth until evening. At around eight that same evening she asked if she could call. We must have talked for a collective time of, like, six or eight hours. I ignored Darren's calls.
        The night before (technically that morning because it was, like, two a.m.) Darren and I talked about how we're in a relationship, but not officially in a relationship. It's not set in stone, but the simple fact we talk every night for hours and aren't talking romantically with anyone else makes it as though we're in a relationship. I decided I didn't want to sit around and wait for us to become official. I wanted to live my life while my life was still available to live.
        Saturday morning I called Taryn. We talked until I got dressed for church, and then we texted during church. (I know, it's terrible. My sister and I tend to do it anyway...) Taryn and I planned to meet over by her house that afternoon. So my sister very reluctantly gave me her keys and I used her car to pick up Taryn and her four-year-old cousin. (The first time I had a car by myself with no family along--yea! And my anxiety wasn't so bad. I guess I really do just have to grow accustomed to it.)
        Anyway, long story short we've grown rather close. We spend time together about once or twice a week. Her family members call me her girlfriend. (Or as one guy put it: "I'm her hoe, and she's my bitch.") I have yet to meet her mother or grandmother. She doesn't like her mother, and apparently her mother doesn't have anything good to say about any woman Taryn is friends with.

        Obviously Darren wasn't too happy about Taryn. He even threw a major tantrum when I told him I made her my number two (so I changed it and made him my number two so I wouldn't have to hear him moan about it). Since I told him about Taryn he calls me his girlfriend [from Texas], and he calls her my mistress. He was really pissed when he first heard about it, telling his friends I'm cheating on him. He's cooled off, though. Probably because I don't purposely ignore his calls and I've stressed his importance to me. I try to talk to him more often and he's begun calling me again without me having to call him first.
        He and I have been planning for the past few months on moving to Alaska next year. Apparently though I'm with her, he hasn't changed his plans. He doesn't want to go up there without me, which is surprising since he used to want to go with or without me, I thought...
        I guess what's complicated is the fact I have to divide my time amongst them both. And the fact I'm not as attracted to women as I once was. I guess it was just a phase. Which is wonderful and awful at the same time because Taryn says she really likes me and wants to be with me, yet she knows about Darren, she knows about Alaska, she knows my relationships are generally short-lived and I get bored quickly and easily. I don't want to hurt her, but I don't want to lose Darren.
        As Jenna tells me: "You'd better not fuck it up with Darren."
        Everyone roots for Darren, and why shouldn't I (other than the fact he's a little shallow)?

Thursday, June 19, 2008

  • Assuming

    Word of advice: Assuming makes an ass out of you and me (ASSume).

        When the number showed up with the name "Wireless Caller" underneath on the cordless phone, I had hoped it'd be a friend of mine, though I didn't recognize the number. She changed her number all the time, and last I knew of she remembered the house number.
        "Hello?"
        I answered the phone and found myself in complete and utter disappointment. The balloon I'd inflated with that false hope of hearing from my long lost friend went flying crazily around the room and, shriveled and ugly, lay on the floor.
        "What are you doing?" the guy on the other end asked. He sounded like he was smiling. Some mischievous smile I associate with pedophiles and downright perverts. And he sounded bald. Is it possible to sound bald?
        Now, assuming this is someone Mom knows (other men have mistaken my voice for hers), I answered, "Nothing..."
        He asked the question again. Guess he didn't hear me the first time. That smile still sounded like it was there.
        "Nothing...Who are you?"
        The silence which ensued assured me whatever smile was on his face when he called had vanished. Then he hung up in my face.
        How rude.

    Second piece of advice: don't assume you the know the person when she answers the phone. Expect the unexpected. And if you have the wrong number, have the courtesy to let the person know before you hang up in her face.

    Assuming makes an ass out of you and me. Ass.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Monday, June 02, 2008

  • New York

        I never considered myself to be the city-girl type. I've always been the outcast, the plain-Jane, the eccentric, the quiet one.
        I was afforded the opportunity to live the city life this past week, and I must say I've never loved it so much.
        I would guess the public transportation system was what I loved most. Here in Mesquite (Texas) we don't have public transportation and even the buses running in Dallas come around on certain schedules. Up in New York I had a blast riding buses which arrived at random times (literally one came around every five minutes, give or take) and hopping on subways which could take me all over New York City. It was quite the workout when I got lost and even when I knew vaguely where I was. I hopped in the cars of people I didn't even know--dollar cabs, not real cabs,--gave the driver two dollars, and told him where I wanted to go.
        (Dollar cab: seems to me many of the Brooklyn Jamaican men got together and decided to provide cab/bus-like services out of their cars to the people in their areas--two dollars is the going rate, and it's better than the bus in that the bus doesn't take dollar bills, only exact change or Metrocards.)
        There was next to no grass out where I was, and for someone like me with allergies to nature, it's a wonderful realization. Buildings were dressed in graffito tags in places where one could only wonder how a feat was possible. I saw the Empire State Building from the subway--yeah, I know. I didn't know the subways came above ground, and it would appear they do so around the Projects. The weather was warm, not unbearably hot like where I am, and the sun shone brightly for much of my trip. Restaurants stayed open well into the early morning hours unlike where I live, where everything seems to close down before ten (if not earlier) and don't open until after the sun has risen.
        Usually a fearful one, I entered into one of the greatest cities of the United States with fear of nothing except getting run over by cars. Traffic there is chaotic, but there was nowhere near as much honking as is sometimes depicted. I was even told there are no honking zones in some areas--I witnessed two cops on foot pull over a guy for honking in Times Square. Oh yeah--and a crack head asked me for a quarter out in Harlem, right down the street from the Apollo.
        Perhaps I was just fascinated with being somewhere so different than my usual surroundings. Perhaps I've always longed to live the city life. Perhaps I really do possess disdain for my current dwelling. Perhaps all three are true, which is why I plan on getting out of here fairly soon. With money, with hope, with small prayers I hope to move up North in about a year. The suburbs are no place for a woman with city love in her heart.

Friday, May 23, 2008

  • Not Nervous or Excited, Really

        I leave for New York Sunday morning. I'm thinking of drawing up some "business cards" to pass out to people I may meet. I'm going to use my MeVaun logo. I'm also bringing my art binders to show people. I'm thinking of color-copying small pics of my rose (pictured below) and selling them for a couple bucks, maybe as much as $5.  It's original size is five by seven I believe...Somewhere around there. I also have two drawings I know I'm selling when I get up there, one for $50 and the other for around $20 or $30. So I guess I'm pretty much set for money as far as when I come back and have no job.
        You'd think I'd be excited, have butterflies or something, but I'm really not. I guess it'll come to me when I end up in the airport by myself.
        Mom thinks it's all about meeting Darren. It's not. It's about seeing the state again because I don't remember anything from the last time we went. It's about expanding my influence, getting out of my comfort zone for a brief time (hopefully). It's about traveling. It's about getting noticed. I can't recall how many times I've been approached by other artists who are inspired by me, who want to rival me, who want to be me. Too many people have told me they do art, but not as well as I do. I think I can bank on that. Or at least challenge it.
        Mom wants me to be rich and famous and yet she doesn't want me to leave the house. She's controlling, alright, and I just can't sit around drawing thinking something will come along on its own, as if it'll knock on the door and turn me on to a whole new world. I'm not that stupid. I know I have to prepare myself for it. I have to chase the dream because the dream won't be chasing me. I want to be more than just an artist; I'm not sure she understands that, and I know she doesn't support it.