so much shit went down. dominique and i saw step brothers [your voice sounds like fergie and jesus], i started working at the adidas performance store, i went to one of the infamous basketball games the dassler boys participate in at chelsea piers, danny made an attempt to find Robert, i did my weave, roxanne made mommy buy a new dress, right before she called off the wedding, i invited like 90 people to a wedding reception turned going away party, and i got my nails wrapped, a pedicure, and my eyebrows done—finally. now for the break down . . .
step brothers was absolutely hilarious. sick and twisted humor is always amusing to me. dominique and i were cracking up like retards. we tend to quote movies for days after we see it. earlier that day, i technically pimped her to some 18 year old [in my defense, i he was a cute, mature looking 18 year old. how was i really supposed to know he was still in high school?]
performance is boring as hell. we do retarded shit to entertain us [shucking and jiving, according to greg] i ended up staying for an extra hour and a half on sunday, just because greg asked me to. he bought me coffee after work, then we hung out at the chelsea piers basketball court. turns out, every sunday and wednesday, the guys play after work. they’re usually there past midnight. for a first timer, it was pretty exciting. pop and some other dude kept talking shit; i swore someone was getting snuffed by the end of the night. well, my assumption was correct—but it wasn’t with pop—it was aussie and some other dude. i don’t remember who swung first, but tall, lanky ass brian tried to tap dude [yes, i said dude, with the illest hood thought] in the back of his head. had he not missed, he could’ve killed him—according to flop and dion. and that’s when greg flung me out the way and ran to jump in, in case anyone else tried to. when everything calmed down, he came back to sit with me and told me to walk out if they started fighting again. that basically put a damper on the rest of the night, since the other guys left us dasslers at the court. i hopped in dion’s car with flop and two other guys and hitched a ride into brooklyn.
yesterday at work, danny texted me on some “where’s tizz” type business. seriously? i’ve never had danny text me to find robert. i don’t even want to speak on this; that’s just how upset i am. today’s danny’s birthday. after i wished him a happy one, i said: “sudden thought; if your cousin doesn’t hit you up for your bday, he's just proving how much of a truly fucked up individual he is . . .” danny definitely agreed with me. as predictable as robert is, i’m thinking that is exactly what happened. i’ll definitely update on that later.
i did my weave when i got home after work. i’m hawt. then we went to lohman’s to get mommy a new dress because roxanne didn’t like the one she bought from macy’s. about an hour or two after we got home, roxy came into the room to tell me and naica that the wedding’s off. they called it off once before, but this time, it’s sticking. it’s something about his church—which i’m totally not understanding—but that’s the cause of this whole thing. maybe this is just the season for break-ups. so this morning, roxy comes into my room to tell me to invite all my friends because we’re still having a party—her fare well party—since she’s already paid for the catering hall, photographer, dj, and florist, and can’t get her money back. so while i was getting my pedicure, i made some calls, did some texting, and invited whoever i could think of. this should be amusing. [expect an update on this by sunday.]
after the beauty treatments and picking up my dress from korin [thanks for the alterations] we drove to valley stream to return whatever we could from the wedding to walmart, then target. naica came along for the ride. we ended up at the good ol’ target pizza hut. i forced myself to eat a personal pizza, and i was full after eating half; i pushed myself to eat a third slice, which definitely made me sick. i watched her as she was putting away bread sticks and sausage pizza. i just had to ask: “where are you putting all of that?” what came out of her mouth next was one of the most offensive things i’ve ever heard in my life: ". . . i'm not striving for anorexia . . . because of dumb bitches like you, little girls are sticking their fingers down their throats . . ." all i could say was “more power to ‘em, if that’s what they do,” and i left it at that. regardless of what i may do, saying something like that is still not cool.
so now, i’m sitting in my bed, upset, offended, and nauseated. that’s enough blogging for now.