Friday, February 25, 2011

But I want you to be MY bitch!!!!

I discovered recently that not only do I not know how to "play the game" with men, I do not even know what the game is. I don't know what it means to readily allow them to think that they are running shit....the art of "falling back" and "allowing men to be men". I don't know what any of that means. Nor do I know how to get there. And it's hurting me. I think it hurts my business to not totally turn Bitch on to 100. It also hurts the business to not. I hate glass ceilings. They make my skin crawl. So I get a carrot dangled in front of me...and I want to go for that carrot. Why not? No where else to go but up, right? Once I get my ambition-o-meter going, I'm full sails ahead. I'm proving my worth. I'm offering to the client what I can do for them. It was dangled in front of me to do so...or so I thought.

So then I'm told, "it's no secret what you want to do." "I know," I say, "I was being transparent to let you know you made a great choice." "Oh no, that was possibly for something for the future, you need to make sure we're good before you do that." See, I thought the fact that you were pursuing meant that it was okay. Dopey me. Fall back. And then I fall back to what? The dangling carrot was the only thing worth fuckin' with they ass in the first muthafuckin place. And so the bait and switch has occurred. And I get why, it works! Totally. I've worked for free. I took the bait. And now it's been switched. I can't get those hours back, but I can tell them to fuck themselves. Thus making me a bitch. And you see how easily it gets turned around? To have a dude flip that shit on me like the dumb bitch he was fucking with even STEP to me in that way, is so got damn disrespectful and wack. My boy told me the other day that he couldn't even fathom how I could work in an industry that is so blatantly misogynistic. And he's a fucking misogynist! How could I? I'mma have to think about that. But I know I'm about to write a book on it.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Low lows and high Highs

Could it be that I am attracting bi-polar people into my life because I'm bi- polar? Or is this PMS? I'm waiting in my Armenian phone pro shop on Melrose and I want to bolt out of here so I can cry. Instead I'm surfing the web, reading the Tracey McMillan book and eavesdropping on the Pinoy workers in here. Not Tagalog I've decided as if I can identify all of the dialects of the Philippino language. I don't know if I am as sad as I am lonely. Looking for a new assistant has been trying. Rehashing what a bitch I am to people isn't the worst thing that can happen, however, quite the contrary. It's pretty cool. I may throw in a therapy session before I head out with Weezy et al. And yet, I don't know why I am this emotional other than the usual chick shit at which -cranky?, is getting played.

I'm sick. I need a brain rest. How do you do that? Buddhism?

No I don't want to go the All Star game. I want to sit on a couch in Inglewood, CA and eat chili dogs with cheese on them. I wish there was onions. I'm the only person I know with a ticket to the All Star game who'd rather watch it on a couch.

Thursday, February 17, 2011


My feet ache. So I got reflexology.
My body aches. So I get a massage.
My head itches. So I get my hair done.
My heart aches. So i call my boo.
But now my what do I do when my brain hurts? I guess people take a vacation but I cannot. I still have to work. And I have to, because I sign up for it. I'm a glutton for punishment. I'm not quite sure what I want out of this world. I can't believe that I'm just bored. I'm tired of people needing stuff. Wanting stuff. Asking me to do stuff. Asking me to ask someone to do stuff. I just want to be. I really want to turn off this ambition button for about 10 days and go surf with my surfing buddy in, I don't know, Phuket or Manila.

But I also want to catch a cold or something so I will be forced to sit still and do nothing. I mean brain nothing. Not think of things. Not think of people coming for my neck to take my job; Not people yelling at me about a job I dont necessarily want to keep;nada. I have reached a point of exhaustion that I have never ever known. I don't see a way out. I'm going to pray on it. Right now.