stepping my dick up

So I was asked on a recent date "what are your intentions?" My response..."that's my line". Oddly enough, I still could not formulate what my intentions were. All of this talking and bullshitting. All of these journals I've come across in storage, combing through boxes and boxes of old settlement sheets Roots passport photos and Murs marketing packages, I've found a slew of journals discussing lost loves and heartaches and what would I do if I found love and if I even knew what it looked like.

The result?

I'm a coward. No wonder guys don't know if I like them. I can't even formulate an answer to a question I already knew the answer to!!! But "cool Girl" jumped out...and voila...here I am...again. Dummy.

So it's time...to step my dick up. Stop being a bitch ass cowardly lion and roar.

Chivalry is not dead

It's not. I have had a lovely bout of chivalry from hanging out at concerts and the road guys there, to hanging with friends who want to guard the door for you, to co-workers and interests who maneuver you to the inside of the sidewalk so that they are between you and the streets filled with hateful car drivers.

A man helped me with my bags from the train to the subway. It was awesome! And then simply walked away. No phone number necessities...no ticket requests. Nada. It was wonderful.

It makes me smile.

ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI.......x 5

I normally hate Miami....may I say, I hate South Beach. THIS trip? I got turned out. Seriously. Not only was hanging with the crew and band....excitedly...and my newest superhero Donyale....eating sushi no less and drinking sake, enjoying the night.....THEN I was able to debut at the Sherbourne (my only stint in South Beach) my award winning Karoake song with back up dancers and congo players to boot....then toot it and boot it, THEN the coup de gras? Photo shoot for Viva Glam with one of the finest men alive....Ricky Martin....along with the most incredible photographic mind...David Lachapelle. What an amazingly glamourous and soooo Hollywood time in Miami though.

Loved it.

And I love staying downtown. Mandarin Oriental for life Blood!

WORN DOWN AND WORN OUT

At the most fun portion of the tour....the Northeast Corridor, my health decides to take a nose dive...could be due to the flight from Miami to Sacramento to nestle on my grandmama for a minute and see my good friend, could have the less than 36 hour return flight to NYC to check on my client and her amazing show at the Nikon Theater at Jones Beach....I landed with a sore throat. Took some cold medicine thinking that should knock it out. Tried my hardest to get SOME rest, then off to the Wayne show, other said client who was hosting Nicki, current client on stage. It was 98 degrees and about 98 percent humidity. BULLSHIT. Sore throat in full effect. Can't sleep through the night...mostly because I'm at a studio session with more said artists until 6am! Ridiculous. I never got to eat my Penang that I ordered from my favorite restaurant in Philly due to what felt like glass shards in my throat. No swallowing of any sort....water and soup...except it all comes out...tmi....and so I FINALLY say , let me get myself a Roc doc. Nurse on premises hooks up a B12 shot in one cheek, Roc Doc hooks up steroid shot in other cheek (shit there goes my pro sports career) and 24 hours later, 1 antibiotic down I can still drink tea and everything else still hurts. I'm sure it will get better, but Jesus, does it have to happen WITHOUT alcohol? I mean this is my birthday week for crying out loud! And yes I have been crying out loud. Strep throat is a muthafucka.

Needless to say all of this whirlwind action has been fun but at quite the price.