But still, like dust, I'll rise.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

I Rise, Maya Angelou

Smiles Await You When You Rise

I'm in the mood for a little poetry writing but so far there's only one line bopping around in my head:

"I regret to admit"

Not sure where that leaves me, but there are in fact a few things I regret to admit.

I regret to admit that I'm scared I'll never work hard enough towards finding a new GOOD job.

I regret to admit that I can't seem to keep my car and house clean at the same time.

I regret to admit that I've been waking up in cold sweats every night and I am not sure it has to do with my comforter being too heavy. I think my body is trying to physically rid me of the constant nagging worry I keep in the far corners of my mind. (Thanks bod!)

I regret to admit that I am heartbroken over breaking my ex boyfriend's heart time and time again. I can't tell you how much I would love to say those four words he would die to hear. But I can't.

I regret to admit that my car was booted today for neglecting 3 parking tickets.

I regret to admit that I miss my mother this week. I wish she would reach out to me more often. Sometimes a girl just needs her mother. Breaking it down to instinctual needs, my mother has a distinct smell that calms me when she lets us hug.

I regret to admit that losing my job has put a strain on my relationship with my father. We have an unspoken, unbreakable bond that many fathers and daughters do not experience. However I know he is in a position where I add stress to his life because of my "in limbo" status.

I regret to admit that following my break up, I seem to have strayed and gravitated in a direction that scares me. My biggest fear: Am I more comfortable being involved in something that's doomed to fail?

I regret to admit that my most recent dip into the dating pool has left me feeling less than stellar. Despite amazing conversations, does this person have much substance? Moreover, does anyone who still drinks actually have a chance with me? Recent news on a certain someone's past makes me wonder if I should close up shop forever.

I regret to admit that even though on most days I am not even sure marriage is for me at all, when I see a picture of an engagement ring pop up on facebook, I instantly feel sick.

So there it is.

Wait, there's more.

I do not regret to admit that I am able to actually tell the truth about what I feel these days. There was a time when this would not have been possible.

I do not regret to admit that I have a few friends in my life these days that make me feel like I'm still a cool ass chick even though I'm not keeping up with the Jones' at the moment.

I do not regret to admit that the warm weather today brought life back to my sails and that seeing dogs (littles ones) play melts my heart.

I do not regret to admit that I have a heart. The other day I was washing my hands in the kitchen. Exciting stuff. When I looked down to grab a paper towel, a red confetti heart was stuck to my wrist. I have no idea where it came from. I don't own red confetti hearts. But it made me laugh. Heart on my sleeve, literally.

I do not regret to admit that choosing a $22 hair cut at Hair Cuttery was the best decision I've made in weeks and that Kristin did a great job.

Golden slumbers fill my eyes, I must say goodnight.

Giving DG Some Much Needed Love

Sometimes I forget about David Grey. I still love him and all. He's hot and his voice is hauntingly deep. But I've neglected his music for a while now. Today I decided to look at an old iTunes playlist of mine and his song Aint No Love was on the list. I was addicted this song years ago. I actually saw him in concert with my father and sister and seeing it live was fantastic.

"Sometimes I'm bursting at the seams with all my half remembered dreams, but then it shoots me down again."

That's me today. I took my pup for an hours long walk and really enjoyed the weather, nature and people watching. As y'all know, I'm on edge thanks to the "in between" stage I have found myself in. Being outside helps me to take a deep breath and laugh at how hilarious life is. You can plan, imagine, determine, contemplate and control as much as you want but more often than not, things will not go how you expect them to.

For instance, today, after my glorious walk, I found myself taking a huge kick to the gut. Not literally, that would be really ridiculous. But, figuratively. I'm now another two steps back in the game of life.

But it's all good. I think?

Ode to K

Dear KvF,

Just when I'm annoyed at you because you took my last twenty dollar bill to pay someone else back, you go ahead and do something like this.

Redeem yourself.

I remember being 21 and refusing to be honest about one damn thing in my life. It was a word I did not even want to spell out because it reminded me of the fact that I could not use it in a list of my personal traits. However, even though you may have some kinks to iron out, you survive because of your honesty about yourself and where you are.

I want you to never lose that kid. I want you to know that sometimes your lack of boundaries bothers me. Sometimes your back and forth between C and Z makes me angry. Your lack of funds makes me have anxiety because I want to share mine but I have very little to give. And you should have gotten your grad school stuff together earlier. But damn, you can listen like no other. And you know how to show your love rather than say the words. You think in terms of "us" rather than "I" when it comes to you and I and that makes me feel like we're a little family. I need that. You have a heart. A big one. And sometimes I wonder how many people really have hearts anymore. But I look at you and I stop wondering. A bleeding heart sometimes is yours. But mine bleeds too and we do it together. Then we patch up the hole and keep on truckin'.

You are a friend among acquaintances and you're fantastic at reading other people's phone messages while they're in the other room.

I love you dearly and always will, sister.

Finances and Trannies and Mila, Oh my!

It's 3 am, my prime time. I'm eating Cheerios and milk with my dog and screaming fuck in my head because I'm having serious neck pain this evening. I must have slept wrong last night. Or today, when I took a 2 hour nap. I'm a big fan of sleep lately. This is partly because I am still getting over the flu and partly because sometimes when there's stress in my life, I'd rather just sleep through it. If I'm lucky, I'll wake up and forget what I was worrying about when I fell asleep. So far, no dice. I'm still worried.

My problem is financial. Which makes me annoyed. I grew up a spoiled child. Not embarassingly spoiled, but my father provided a very comfortable lifestyle for his family. He has four of us and none of us can complain that we went without. Ever. I'm 26 now and learning how to live within my means has become an ongoing battle. Especially now that I'm unemployed and would rather gamble with my expenses than look at my bank account and budget. I like living on the edge. I think I sickly find excitement in whipping out the debit card and getting a nervous stomach hoping that it's accepted so I can get my coffee.

Granted, I'm not always broke. It's just that I am living with much less money than I used to have when I worked full time and my brain has yet to accept the fact. AB, you cannot buy anything for pleasure anymore. Necessity only. Not sure when I'll learn. Hopefully by tomorrow, because the bank account is looking more grim than it ever has before (in the history of being financially independent). Yikes.

In other news, I joined an online dating website. Not because I wanted to find someone to date, and certainly not because I think that the internet holds the key to my next great love. A great friend of mine had been bugging me to help him with his profile on this particular site. I could not do so without making a profile of my own. So I did, okay? Stop judging me.

Begin judging now. It's now become part of my daily check in process. First it's facebook, then gmail, and now it's this dating website. Reason? I'm so vain. (I probably think this song is about me). I become excited seeing that I've received new messages. They are sometimes funny, sometimes nerdy, sometimes flirty, sometimes boring, sometimes interesting e-mails from complete strangers who think my profile is intriguing. I find pleasure in reading what they have to say. Sometimes I even respond. None of these people I have met in person, nor do I think I ever will. But God, give me a space to write and I am down. Whether it be blog, e-mail, facebook or onlinedatingareus. com (that's not the site, I'm keeping it private), I will furiously type away. That's just me.

I will say though, I've had a particularly disturbing experience so far. Well two. One is funny. One guy reached out to me who claimed to be straight but really said he's gay but knows he will never find the guy he wants because his standards are too high so he's basically settling for women. Sounded like an awful way to live. I made him give me serious details about his lifestyle choices and then cut him off. Selfish? Yes. But I have never come in contact with a gay man who is settling for women so I needed to analyze and disconnect.

Second story goes a little something like this: I was chatting a bit with a scruffy, muscular blond who was seemingly normal at first. Until he started rapid fire messaging me with a plethora of questions that I found to be puzzling.

"Do you have your own apartment?"

(Okay, good question, he probably wants to know if I live with my parents. Normal guy concern, right?)

"Ever been to college?"

(Who phrases it like that? Huge pet peeve regarding those who write horribly).

"Why don't you drink? Do you have problems?"

(Besides the fact that the answer is yes, I do have problems, many of them in fact, I didn't care for the phrasing of the question).

"Do you have a group of girlfriends that you go out with on a regular basis?"

(Why? So if you don't like me, you can move on to them? Try to hide your piggishness a bit more hun).

"Do you believe in God?"

(I feel like he threw that in there for good measure. Like, I know my questions are showing my true ugly colors but I believe in the big JC so it's all good).

Well, it's not all good. In fact, it's all bad. I did not want to speak to Mr. Psycho anymore so I simply stopped answering. To which he kept firing off more messages:

"Why are you afraid of me?"

"Why are you not letting me call you to win you over?"

"What's your problem? I don't bite!"

"I'm going out tonight, come with me."

"Let me buy you coffee."

"Let me come see you wherever you are."

"I have a few hours to hang out. Let's hang out."

"Please give me your number."

My only answer to any of these was, "I'm not quite sure about you, so please chill."

Mr. Psycho didn't like this so instead chilling, I got this message in return:

"Actually, I just looked at your picture up-close and personal, and you are a transvestite I think. Please lose my number."

As if I even had the nutcase's number in the first place? I immediately blocked him. And laughed.

And then spent the rest of the afternoon looking at myself in the mirror at various angles, wondering if I in fact, do look like a transvestite. I even asked some friends if I did. Obviously no one said yes. I secretly became kind of insecure about my looks. Until I went to Starbucks and the guy behind the counter looked up at me with a very surprised look on his face. I was startled and thought bad thoughts. Oh no. It's true. I look like an f'ing tranny. I hate myself.

But nope! He said, "Wow, has anyone told you that you look exactly like Mila Jovovich?" Yes. Thank you Starbucks man. You just brought me back to life. I've heard this before but had never actually NEEDED to hear it as much as I did this day. I held on to that compliment like there was no tomorrow. Writing this now, I honestly feel sort of pathetic.

And so there it is folks. It's now quite obvious that I still look for approval on my appearance from the outside world. I'm a woman after all, and sometimes I do feel insecure about myself. I'll go out on a limb and say that I am secretly super, super sensitive on the inside with a very tough top coat. Most of the time I don't like to show it nor admit it, but it creeps up on me and bites me in the ass if I'm not careful. I will say though that I will take being called Mila any day of the week. Even if I don't think it's true. Hell, I'll be called anything other than a man dressed as a woman.

And the Mr. Psycho from onlinedatingareus. com made up another profile and tried to contact me again. The nerve! I guess he likes trannies?