If things don't look up soon, I might have to change the name of this blog from Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva to Excerpts from My Crappy California Chronicles. It's getting harder and harder to maintain my diva-tude while I sleep on my homegirl's couch.
Maybe it's just me, but doesn't it seem like when you're at what you presume to be your lowest point, something happens to push you further down? Case in point: my homegirl went to the beauty shop yesterday. Since I don't have a key to her house, I'm at her mercy as to when I can come home. Okay, I'm not mad at that because she didn't offer and I didn't ask. Anyway, I decided to go shopping for clothes to kill time. Besides, like I said before, they're scattered everywhere and I need some solid outfits. I went and picked up a couple of pieces and headed to my second job. I didn't want to stay too late because I'm trying to respect the fact that my homegirl and her man both have to go to work early in the morning. As I'm about to get crackin', she sends me a text message to inform me that her man's best friend is going to be there when I get home.
At this point, I need to give you the back story. I met her man's best friend last week at a little get-together my friend had to celebrate her new catering business. He was nice enough to talk to at the party, but he's not the kind of guy I'll be spending any extra time with. Not only does he smoke weed -- something I'm vehemently against -- he also has 11 things that I just cannot abide with -- seven children and four baby mamas. Even though I gave him my number -- I was drunk, don't sue me -- I really didn't want to get involved. I thought he'd catch the hint when I didn't answer his calls. Then he sent me a text asking if I was going to call him back, and I replied, "Nope." Instead, he told my friend's man that he was up for "a challenge."
Naturally, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with him while I'm going through what I'm referring to as my wilderness experience, so I told my homegirl to let me know when he leaves because I didn't want to see him. I even went so far as to tell her that I'd sleep in my car before I allowed myself to be uncomfortable. She thought I was crazy, but I did not care.
That whole situation was bad enough, but to add insult to injury, I heard from one of my former dudes, Interesting Distraction. The last time I spoke to him was in December, and let's just say it wasn't pretty. In fact, it's one of the things I'm ashamed of. I know I promised to catch you up on him and Mr. Perfect -- and I will -- but not until I get settled. Anyway, I picked up the phone and he said, "Do you know who you're speaking to?" Who else would dare to call me at 11:50pm from an unknown number? I was very short with him and rushed him off the phone because I wasn't in the mood to stroll down memory lane with that fool. Besides, just the sound of his voice conjured up emotions I'd rather not ever visit again.
Today, my homegirl and I were talking about her visit to our hairdresser. Apparently Hair Girl was complaining to my friend about the way I had hounded her to get my hair done. If you've ever had a stylist that's really good, you know it can be a hassle trying to get an appointment. Of course, it must be said that HG can be a bit on the ghetto side when it comes to handling her business, but that's another story for another day. My friend then proceeded to tell her about my current situation and how I'm staying with her. HG's whole expression changed to one of pity when she said, "I didn't know it was like that." I know my friend wasn't being malicious, but it just made me aware of how bad things really are for me. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there.
I know it's not in a diva's nature to cry and feel sorry for herself, but at this point, it's getting harder and harder to hold it together. I haven't really talked to my good friends about what's going on because I just can't take their criticisms or their pity. I didn't want to tell my mom, but I had no choice because she would've figured it out anyway. I absolutely refuse to tell my sperm donor because if he says something stupid like, "Well, I don't know what to tell you," I know I'll scream.
Keep me in your prayers...
Maybe it's just me, but doesn't it seem like when you're at what you presume to be your lowest point, something happens to push you further down? Case in point: my homegirl went to the beauty shop yesterday. Since I don't have a key to her house, I'm at her mercy as to when I can come home. Okay, I'm not mad at that because she didn't offer and I didn't ask. Anyway, I decided to go shopping for clothes to kill time. Besides, like I said before, they're scattered everywhere and I need some solid outfits. I went and picked up a couple of pieces and headed to my second job. I didn't want to stay too late because I'm trying to respect the fact that my homegirl and her man both have to go to work early in the morning. As I'm about to get crackin', she sends me a text message to inform me that her man's best friend is going to be there when I get home.
At this point, I need to give you the back story. I met her man's best friend last week at a little get-together my friend had to celebrate her new catering business. He was nice enough to talk to at the party, but he's not the kind of guy I'll be spending any extra time with. Not only does he smoke weed -- something I'm vehemently against -- he also has 11 things that I just cannot abide with -- seven children and four baby mamas. Even though I gave him my number -- I was drunk, don't sue me -- I really didn't want to get involved. I thought he'd catch the hint when I didn't answer his calls. Then he sent me a text asking if I was going to call him back, and I replied, "Nope." Instead, he told my friend's man that he was up for "a challenge."
Naturally, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with him while I'm going through what I'm referring to as my wilderness experience, so I told my homegirl to let me know when he leaves because I didn't want to see him. I even went so far as to tell her that I'd sleep in my car before I allowed myself to be uncomfortable. She thought I was crazy, but I did not care.
That whole situation was bad enough, but to add insult to injury, I heard from one of my former dudes, Interesting Distraction. The last time I spoke to him was in December, and let's just say it wasn't pretty. In fact, it's one of the things I'm ashamed of. I know I promised to catch you up on him and Mr. Perfect -- and I will -- but not until I get settled. Anyway, I picked up the phone and he said, "Do you know who you're speaking to?" Who else would dare to call me at 11:50pm from an unknown number? I was very short with him and rushed him off the phone because I wasn't in the mood to stroll down memory lane with that fool. Besides, just the sound of his voice conjured up emotions I'd rather not ever visit again.
Today, my homegirl and I were talking about her visit to our hairdresser. Apparently Hair Girl was complaining to my friend about the way I had hounded her to get my hair done. If you've ever had a stylist that's really good, you know it can be a hassle trying to get an appointment. Of course, it must be said that HG can be a bit on the ghetto side when it comes to handling her business, but that's another story for another day. My friend then proceeded to tell her about my current situation and how I'm staying with her. HG's whole expression changed to one of pity when she said, "I didn't know it was like that." I know my friend wasn't being malicious, but it just made me aware of how bad things really are for me. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there.
I know it's not in a diva's nature to cry and feel sorry for herself, but at this point, it's getting harder and harder to hold it together. I haven't really talked to my good friends about what's going on because I just can't take their criticisms or their pity. I didn't want to tell my mom, but I had no choice because she would've figured it out anyway. I absolutely refuse to tell my sperm donor because if he says something stupid like, "Well, I don't know what to tell you," I know I'll scream.
Keep me in your prayers...
Comments
Life has kicked me in the A$$ time in and time out. You know that. You’re my one friend that knows Bob’s whole story.
So, why would I criticize or pity you?
If anything, I think and pray for you.
I wonder why you never called me and told me what and how you want me to give you this $100 that I told you I could share.
Friends are supposed to hold each other down when times are good and when times are bad. What the hell do you need friends for if they can’t have your back when life is all screwed up? You can drink and party with anyone. Friends, true friends are those who are in your life, giving, praying, and supporting between the parties.
Mack Diva, call me when you get a chance. Let’s talk about this.
Up there depressed and ain’t telling nobody… Yeah, I’m fussing.
You know we’re cooler than that.