An interesting conversation ensued between my 7 year old niece and her father this morning.

Father: Honey why do you have that scarf on ypur head...what are you now...a muslim?
Daughter: What's a muslim? (in all honesty)
Me: (grunting and shaking my head in disbelief that a 7 year odl doesn't know what (sic) a muslim is?) Do you know what a christian is?
Daughter: What? A christian...No. What's a christian then?
Father: (ignoring her, acting like she hadn't just said something of sacrilege)
Me: (almost choking on my own spit as I gasp in breath)

Meanwhile we go to church every other Sunday, she keeps still in church and acts all attentive like she is really listening, and she laughs when the Priest throws a joke our way, yet she doesn't know what a christian is.

The reason why this is such a big deal is that with the current situation we are dealing with now of persecution of religious beliefs it is very necessary that we teach our children what each religion represents. A friend of mine once mentioned to me not too long ago that americans are very ignorant people and I wanted to disbelieve that. I argued that they are not as ignorant of diverse cultures and peoples as they make out to be, they are more aware than some other countries who are opposed to it. But he refused to let my view hold sway. He had recently met someone who asked him, "Where is South Africa?" Now, that I think of it I don't know which one is more stupid, "I don't know what a muslim/christian is" or "Where is South Africa?" Alas, it holds forth...in our community, in our homes, in my home.

My niece's father didn't make any effort to teach his daughter what each of those religious beliefs were, and what they represented even though we are representatives of one of them. I didn't bother as well. I think some teachings are the sacred duties of the parents. I know my mother apart from insisting that we attend Sunday school when we were her age, she also insisted that we know what each religion represented, and that they are not our enemies even though they practice something different from us. Her mother went to Sunday school just when she was her age...but now, her daughter can't tell what she is...a muslim or a christian? But she can sing all the songs on the Barney Greatest hits tape, and can do so many other things but has carefully neglected what molds her as a person, an individual...her belief.

I'd like to believe somewhere along the line schools should inculcate some kind of religious teaching to students from a tender age. Yes! it is necessary. See what is happenieng now. People are being killed for their religous beleifs and we are just going to stand by and let a poor child sit on the fence of ignorance.

I know whatever a child learns from an early age that's what he lives with, grows with, and inculcates in his tender formative brain. Relgion should be one of them. It is so sad to think this problem we are having now started a long time before Sept. 11th. We shouldn't let it brew further.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I lost my nerve and I decided since Blogger wasn't going to add me to their stupid update page no matter how many times I do update, then I would try to update only when I have something to say.

I had a little aggro with Fate some days ago. I was upset that certain events had defaced our lives and left us with remnants of hope. For example Sept. 11th. Life was soo good before all that happened. Now life seems so unsettling. It has recently been made worse with other tragedies like the discovery of Anthrax and the deaths of poor postal workers. How many more people have to die before we realise...enough is enough, and we really should calm the fuck down and get along. The God that made us thought we could get along, how come we can't?

My sister's best friend's husband died on Wednesday. More sorrow reaching close to home. It's all so numbing.

I sometimes close my eyes and try to imagine I am somewhere else. That's how I get through the day. I try to imagine that I am somewhere where there's peace and I am laughing; one of those full hearty laughs that comes from deep down and reaches out to everyone around you, touching them and arousing them to laugh with you. But when I open my eyes...I am still here. Still numb, still unsettled, and still very empty. Wanting so many things, seeking so many as well. When will this closure come?

Right now, my sister is out of town, so I have the kids for the weekend. I am wondering what I can cook for Sunday Brunch. I am not very skilled in the Continental Food category. Where I come from food was made to be greasy and spicy and filling, filled with starchy content. But here it is basically otherwise. I have settled on beef fried rice, but a moment ago it was Spaghetti with meatballs until I remembered I had no idea how to make meatballs.

I know I will have a happy update sometime. In other news, I got my mobile phone on Thursday. Perhaps I should have reported that. But no one calls me so it is still a bit under-utilized. The fun factor is yet to set in. I should give it a couple of weeks though, then I can drop my number for all those cute guys I bump into at the mall.

I thought the wait was going to end soon. I would get everything I needed and things would be okay...for a while. AT this rate, when I DO get it (crossing fingers, and knocking on wood simultaneously) I would serioulsy look into that ART school in San Francisco. Yes, my life has to start. It has to!

I have this girl from one of my communities who is about as obsessed with Nick Carter as I am with K.R. But for the past month or more since she saw and met him in Boston she hasn't spoken or written any poetry or love notes about him in her journal. You know it kinda makes you start to wonder...what happened when you met him? I had remembered her mentioning something about him partying too hard and about the "girl" he partied with being all trampy but nothng concrete was asserted, and I didn't want to jump into conclusions. So being the nosy poker I am I asked her this:

But don't you like Sir Nick anymore? Since you got back from Boston all somewhat obsessive Nick talk has been pushed to the curb, why so? What happened there, did he not live up to your expectations? I ask because you should know I am also obsessed with some other character : pictured above. so I want to know if when I meet him (knocks on wood) he might not live up to my expectations.



Their reply was:
Subject: Re: what happened?
That wasn't the first time I met Nick...I've met him plenty before that...he always lives up to expectations...ALWAYS nice to me...incredibly nice actually. It's just after Boston I went Nick Stalking (LMAO) down in Tampa...and gathering info...so don't worry...I still love him as much as I ever did...but between not being here, and having other drama, I havent really talked about him much.

I also have my off and on phases...like sometimes I will spazz out and be like OMG I WANNA MARRY ____ and obsess over someone else for a while...just for variety...but I will always love Nick...even when I'm talking about someone else. It's weird...like contrary to what people think...I don't want to really BE with Nick...I want to be friends with him...so when I start to like another in a different way (like want to be with them) it doesn't phase my feelings for Nick because I love him in a different way.


I don't know why her reply made me chuckle. All night I stayed up asking myself these same questions: do I just want to be friends with him? Is just meeting him enough for me? Yes, I do sometimes obsess about other people, so many times, but it's like there is this bond I have with him that keeps me coming back. I go like "I am sorry for straying there. Thank you for giving me a teeny moement to obsess about somebody else but I am back now, and I am sane." And just then someone else pops up. I go for awhile but i still come back...he's still there. The feeling is still the same and I like him just the same. It's absurd, I knw and so childish.

Yesterday they showed clips of Matrix Revisited on ET. I broke down and turned red. I was just thinking about him when it happened. I was thinking about this reply from her, and I was asking myself those questions and then that shaggy hair, stubby beard and deftone voice just popped into the screen. I almost choked on my own spit.

I wish I had her opportunities though. Not like anything would happen I just wish I had them.

This is just a quick note to say to Hans: "If you are reading this, I am working on that stuff as I type. okay so hang in there. I haven't run out on our idea. Not totally anyway."

Then...my ex called again this morning. This was weird why would he call me by the AM. He hardly does that. Last time I checked I was the one making the AM calls. But I am sure you are tired of reading about this ex anyway. Wish it were somebody else calling me. I don't know who but just somebody else. Some of the people I dream about, think about, wonder about, just someone except him.

We talked again. I told him about my BSB obsession. Told him I expected him to like them because they sang mushy love songs, the kind he uses to lure women into sleeping with him just before he realizes how much in love with his ex he is. He chuckled. Then, I told him I would get us tickets to their next concert. We would pick a neutral city, take a road trip and just go see them in concert.

Doofus replied: It's 17 hours to Jersey or NY from where you are. You would really go that far for a concert?'

Sometimes I wonder how people plan to live their lives. To explore or ignore the adventures waiting to be reaped, discovered; the tremendous journeys that are waiting to be ravaged. I just shook my head and ticked off on my note pad: Count him out as an adventurer. Seek another.

I elaborated a bit and talked about my future road trip with Lea, hopefully (knocking on wood) next summer to San Francisco. He asked: WHY? Do you know anyone that lives there?

I should stop now before you round up your summary on why I should be discussing peaceably about Doofus like we have the same interests or something when he seems so opposite of me. If it's any consolation, at the end of my account of how interesting a road would be, he said he might take it for Christmas.

I had a BSB filled morning today what better ay to start the day. I heard Nick say: I have been single for almost a year and really lonely.

AARGH!!! That makes me want to produce Conversations, get him to act in it, and hope he falls madly in love with him during the shooting.

I know I am a dreamer, but if you don't dream, you don't live.

Glimpses of Negro

In other eventful news my ex called today. we talked, that's it, we just talk about nothing. I told him since he left I had developed a new found addiction to BSB, he chuckled. I hate it when people chuckle at my love for BSB. Because it is serious. It is not some crush or something that I have to go through because their love songs make me feel all mushy. No. I really dig them, they are good people and I think they make you think good thoughts, have a nice smile, meet the nicest people. BSB fans are wonderful and their shows are exhilarating. I find myself continually gushing whenever I watch them; they always put a smile on your face that is assured. But then again, he wouldn't understand, one of the few reasons why we broke up, that myopic sense of humor that cannot accept a new thing because they don't understand it. Well, there goes playing BSB at our wedding---if that was ever to occur.

He talked about his plans and how disgruntled my old friends were because I decided not to write or email them. Boo Hoo! My friend upset me and got me involved with a player like him in the first place...it is upsetting though it is not her fault it still upsets me when I think about it. Why would you want to fix your reboudning friend from a nasty breakup with someone who has a girl he is madly in love with and has been for several years...why? He mentioned something pertaining to her as well. Said "somebody" was helping him process his transcripts from school...I assumed it could only be her, because his voice lowered and he got all edgy when I asked him who it was.

"Geez! Are they still together?" This is me with a disgruntled look on my face..."What has it been like 8 years now, when I was with him it was 6, that means they are going on 8 years now because that was 2 years ago. DAYUM!!"

I wonder what he will think when I tell him I am in love with Anthony Kiedis or Vin Diesel, wow, my Vin love cannot be compromised at all. At all. So he better deal with it or ship out. I think he has already shipped out for him to still be with the same girl after all these years. 8 years, that's a long time. Almost as long as my relationship would be with Keanu if he were a real life character...see why I fall for impossible people?!! Real people SUCK!!!

Overwhelmed with Emotions

Meet me in outer space / I need you to see this place / It might be the only way that I can show you how it feels to be inside you / ---Stellar, Incubus.

I am overwhelmed with the inability of my self to take me to places my heart longs to go.

I had this deep stuff I wanted to put down here last night, but somehow this morning it all seems so trivial now. Not trivial, just not as consuming as it felt last night when I thought about it. I remember once I saw this movie, "The Score." with Robert DeNiro where he advised his prodigy played by Edward Norton that in life if you wanted to achieve your goals you had to write them down one after another, and everyday take baby steps in pursuit of each one. I saw the movie in July and since then I have tried, Lord knows I have tried to zero in on what it is I want, but I just can't. Everyday changing times and circumstances, and peoples and ambitions sidetrack me and derail the ploy to achieve a speck of those things. And nothing in life is ever what its cracked up to be, what you want so badly might look so appetizing from the outside but the moment you step into it, it loses its verve and disappoints you, thus causing you to ask why you wanted it so badly in the first place. Nothing is ever what it's cracked up to be...nothing.

I need to leave this place / my mind needs to be in a space / where my head feels light and my heart soars / I need to be still / so I can listen to what the quiet of my heart has to tell me / so I can be sane enough to pay attention / ----Me.

I loved somebody once. Once. It was so beautiful. It would have even been more beautiful if he loved me back but nothing comes as easy as it feels. It had to be complicated, twisted and distant. I stll think about him too. I smell him even though he is a miilion miles away from me. I remember the songs I loved when I was with him, the butterflies I harbored whenever he called my name, and the flushes my face went through whenever he came into my haven. I loved him more than me...but that is all so long ago now. All I have are the memories, the faint hopes that there may be another, and the fragrance of him indelibly etched into my nostrils relieving me anytime I get overwhelmed by the space I live in.

I called my ex in the middle of the afternoon today. Bad time to call, I wans't expecting the call to go through since it hasn't for the past 3 days. But it did! Darn!!

He recognized my voice as soon as I said "Hello". Brilliant. I like it when a man does that. But that's so beside the point, he's still an asshole considering our past. We talked like normal. He asked me what I have been up to since we last spoke to each other---like I am ever up to much. I told him that, but was somewhat ashamed that my life was way too broing for him to be interested so I did something I hardly/shouldn't/so against doing. I told him what my plan was...I told him what I had been working on, and then told him to say a prayer for me that it works out. The thing is it is against my policy to tell people about my plans when it is in the works. It jinxs it for me. I only tell them when it is done...and good, that is it worked out fine. Or if it is done and not good, then I tell them. I never tell them halfway...it's so bad luck for me. So bad!

Then, why did I tell Kevin what I was working on. I don't know, I was ashamed that my life was boring, and he's was obviously fun. He said he had been to the club all through last weekend, and watched a Mike Tyson fight on Friday. I didn't even know Tyson had a fight!
I have a reason for that though, my interests have changed a bit since my last Tyson fight. I would know if it were BSB or RHCP or any of those people displayed in my fan section having an event, but not Mike Tyson! However, this is so beside the point, I still broke an anita objective rule. I should be shot.

I just hope the boy doesn't jinx it for me. I am hoping he doesn't. I would be heartbroken. Instead of calling my best pal who happens to live just as well in NJ with him, I called him (bad, mean him) during daytime hours too. Bad, bad me.

I am working on my resume now...it is the worst excruciatingly horrific experience to concoct a resume. Take it from me. and some people have jobs where they revamp resumes...is that a life?!

On the other good news circuit...BSB has a show tomorrow for charity that is being broadcast. I have been in BSB withdrawal for too long.

I glanced by this site: Vindiesel.co.uk and saw these remarkable pictures under a section called VinWarp where she made up some hilarious posters from some of the world's most famous movies, but superimposed Vin's face on them. Utterly brilliant if you ask me. I don't know how to work with pictures that well, digitally speaking. These are amazing...


Trust me to notice the Matrix poster out of all of them. Vin with Keanu in The Matrix...nah! the conflict of interest would be too much to bear...chicks would go crazy in the theaters...too many hunks which one to choose.

I love black and white pictures so naturally I fell for this one. She picked pictures that matched them exactly thus avoiding that abstract look you get when you doctor photos. I wish I could keep this one...

It's so brilliant, you should go to the site there are loads more.






My MSN account logs me off after 15 minutes of downtime, which sadly includes when I am typing something into my journal, that's mostly why I hardly type in long entries in here. It's a pity too because I have many nice stories to tell some times.

Well, I didn't call my ex. Let me rephrase that...I tried to call but the number he gave me doesn't seem to be getting through, and knowing him he's too proud to want to call me back since i told him--no bootay.

Ever have one of those days you expected to turn out much more interesting and eventful than it actually did. Today is that day for me.

Asides from the following:
My niece resisting the urge to wail which she does everyday by this time;
Someone chatting with me through the Humanclick icon earlier today;
Someone spending an earth-shattering amount of 12 minutes and reading through 3 whole pages on my site;
Rollingstone issue of October;
My sister getting me Burger King fries and Milkshake--
Nothing exceptional has occured or am I missing something?

I - AM - SLOWLY - LOSING - MY - PATIENCE - WITH - PATIENCE.

My best friend finally called me this morning. We talked like normal..a piss poor, what-to-do-with-our-lives conversation. I am in the process of calling my ex now. I am just waiting for the clock to chime the right time when it is not too expensive to call long distance. Or I may not. The day is not turning out as good as I thought it would. A couple of calls I made this morning sort of strung out the self-esteem from me. What is it with people and experience? Why do they need it before they hire you? Can't you get it on the job? What is it, we were all not born stupid you know, some of us just need about a month and we have the work mastered? So quit asking me if I have experience...geez!!!

I am making the call...I need to release tension. I need to be loved, I need to sustain hope in the face of adversity. I need to be a woman, although.

It's so hard for me to say this
I'm struggling to find the right words
What I've felt is past tense
What I feel you just haven't heard

So, I think it's better that I tell you now
I think it's better that I tell you now

He's so sweet and good, good
I can't let him go

I spent a better part of my morning editing some of my old entries on Rants and Pieces. I don't know why I bothered. I was reading over my old entries for nostalgia sake and they read so badly, spelling and grammatical erros all through. Just Awful. No wonder no one wants to buzz me. Now that I have edited them I wonder how I can tell them to please go back and re-read and that I am dreadfully sorry for making them read such horrid nonsense in the first place.

I found this while I was surfing. It was a quote of an old interview of Anthony's (Kiedis of RHCP) who is surprisingly going to turn 39 soon--and might I be the first to say he doesn't look a day over 35, okay. This was from a Rollingstone interview he did multiple years ago but it felt weird reading it after Sept. 11th.

I think we're living in a very entertaining and compelling era. Not to be light-hearted about it, but it's very amusing to watch the world crumble. We think we're so important and that every act of our daily lives means something, but we're a flash in the pan. I think we're going to see the collapse of all of the things people hold so sacred-like religion and government.

My ex hasn't called again. It's been 5 days. Should I or shoudn't I call? Tune it to find out if I succumb...

My September diary entry has 11 hits on it. Get it, Sept.11th. Creepy by no less means. Everything about that day has creepiness in it.

It's been 5 weeks now, and the scare moutns up in other facets of life. I don't think I can take that trip around Europe or the drive cross-country I always dreamed about now after all this.

In another lifetime, can I get to choose you, can we get to have each other, can we choose were we want to be?

In another lifetime, can we get to have peace, to rest easy, to put our feet up and love freely? Can we?

In another lifetime, is there hope for interaction without intermission, without bumping, without choking one's means of consumption? Is there a place we get to run recklessly wtihout noise being the determinant of our voices, our uproar, our freedom?

In another lifetime, woudl there be room for us to mingle in our seperate beliefs, customs, and tradition without persuasion or compulsion to those who have remained ignorant of moment's passage?

In another time, can we get to take sides, choose our places, and the dreams we want to fruition?

Then I can choose you, and you may have to choose me...and in that time, can I get to keep you, without fear that time, or age, or unfortunate circumstance of death would come to claim you from me, and with the reassurance that wherever you get to go, I go also, and where you end up...I shall be, in that same time.

Though now, we dwell in another.

I feel so relieved I just used some cut and paste codes to put up a talkback icon on my diary blogger page. Yippee for me. I thought it would be so god-awful complicated but it wasn't. It consisted of two codes that took no less than 20 minutes. It took that long because I wanted to make the font smaller, but anyway, I thought I might have to download some rare program or something. Phew! the things I do to get reader feedback from this journal.

Okay, here's to it, and also officially celebrating the humanclick, which I have only used once, and maybe getting someone to understand WTF I am talking about, because most times I don't too.

I am not looking forward to the Survivor edition in Africa, why because I do not want a look into Africa that may misrepresent my people. Yes, you heard me, my people. I am already tired of answering all the, "Do you guys eat each other, or walk around naked" questions, and now they want to give us a sneak peak into a native, very primitive part of Africa. It is so not funny.

Does Survivor: Africa host Jeff Probst ever ache under the strain of keeping TV's biggest secret — who'll win the $1 million this season?

TVGO: Word is, you were stung by a scorpion. Was it serious?
Probst: No, not life threatening. Everything in Africa sticks or pokes or bites you. You're scraped up all the time. Going out there, they tell you to check your shoes, shorts and hat — but no one does, including me. I took a step and felt a pretty sharp pain, and then another one. [A scorpion] had crawled up my boot and was on my Achilles' heel. I turned around, and saw it crawl back down the side of my boot.

TVGO: Hell's bells! What did you do?
Probst: Our crackpot medical team — out in the middle of nowhere — put my foot in [near] boiling water to diminish the pain. Holy [expletive]! Wow!

TVGO: Were the players really in any danger from Kenya's larger-sized beasties?
Probst: One night, Brandon [Quinton] heard a lion breathing outside of the Samburu camp. That's when he realized, 'Holy [expletive]. If I can hear that lion breathing, it is way too close.' I kept warning them, 'You guys need a sentry at night.' And Brandon said, 'You know what, Jeff? You're right. I think we're going to stay up now in shifts.' Is the threat there that they could be eaten by a lion? Absolutely. This is the most dangerous place they've been, because there is no way to stop an animal from charging you if it wants to.

TVGO: Last season, watching the Barramundis leap from that Australian waterfall was cool, but other challenges were boring, confusing to viewers at home — and looked like they could've been done anywhere. Will the new tasks be Africa-specific?
Probst: I get your criticism, totally. The bottom line is, it's really hard to come up with 40 challenges that are all indigenous to Africa, are all fair and don't give the advantage to a man or woman. Honestly speaking, I don't know if we'll ever be able to pull that off to where you're doing something you could only do in Africa. There just isn't enough. And our guys work their asses off at this.

TVGO: On the bright side, can we expect to watch the players be forced to eat more squirmy things?
Probst: Something like that, although we don't want to repeat ourselves with always just spinning the wheel and eating disgusting things. But there will always be a food challenge...

TVGO: ...Involving disgusting things to eat.
Probst: Of course! It's all in your point of view. There were a couple of people last year that I think really got off on that cow brain — sick bastards. Jeff Probst Survivor Preview

I am having a hard time thinking straight about non-love issues since my ex, Kevin called on Friday. I told you I am not a very strong person emotionally. I wish I was.

Since then, I find myself admiring my self for extra long in the mirror, dressing up, brushing my hair, putting on make-up, masking my face, and doing my nails. All everyday chores I used to undergo with reckless selfishness in mind, thinking no one wants to see me pretty, no one cares. But now, I think, what if he cares? Don't you want to look good for him? I actually scrapped my cuticles today. I never do that. *bends head down in shame*

I have to focus, focus Anita. You do not need a man in your life right now. Can you handle it? Are you sure you want this particular man now? Can you handle all the turmoil he put you through being replayed right here, right now?




Deciding between my sanity and wanting a relationship now is like choosing between him and him. It was often easy, but now it's all so hard.

My horoscope read: GEMINI If romantic situations have left you confused lately, this week should deliver a fresh perspective. Stay true to your heart's desires and remember that your future is not dependent on the opinions of others. Your creative ideas and vivid imagination should provide you with all the inspiration you need to get ahead.



Love-B Money-C Work-B*
Signs to seek: Libra, Aquarius
Signs to avoid: Sagittarius, Scorpio



See why I am worried? I always get a D for Love. That is the highest grade I have ever gotten for love this year. Highest.
Oh, where art thou is the strength of resistance to come from....

Toast to Good Health

If I speak in the tongues of men...but have not love, I am nothing but a noisy gong or clanging cymbal.

I drank a big toast to my life today.

My life consumed with the pitfalls and the "I wish" and "what if's". I drank a big ole toast to the nonentity called my life. Happy that it still is, though riddled with question that have generally surpassed my far-fetched education, it still lives, hoists its flag, and dwells in its own inconsequence.

We tried to have an open day today to sell our house that has been on the market for almost 3 months. It didn't work. Not even one person showed up. Not one. That hit a sour note to me. But I didn't let it get me down. I have my eye on the prize.

People keep asking me what I have done with the past 3 years of my life since I left school. It hurts because I have no answers. I am not married, not seeing anyone, didn't see anyone, and didn't find the miraculous cure to some incurable disease or something equally as eventful. I just lived.

As hard as that was for me, I sustained my life and my breath, held my head high and kept on living. I don't have the answers to any of the questions that would explain my waste of precious time in my life, all I have are lessons, and the keys that I would not let it get me down, but make me stronger, most importantly I still live. I know many that have been stripped of that luxury. I am not one of those people and I thank God for that every day.

I drank to my life today. I drank and asked God that there would come a time I would get to share some fine liquor with some fine man sitting across from me on the table, looking at me, listening to me. I drank hoping and praying silently to myself that fine wine like I had shared silently today will not be shared alone, needs to be harnessed and enjoyed in favored company, when the time comes. I drank hoping that I am taking the baby steps to that time.

Here's to my life, and all it's precious liquor waiting to be savored.

My sister just came home saying that we are going away again next month to some place. Fairfiled Inn or something, I can't remember the name but it's up in the moutains somewhere, and it has lakes and rivers, and speeding boats, and hopefully some nice boys.

I so need to go out on a date sometime this year. Not a meaningless one like the ones showcased on Blind Date--those are just pointless and retarded ones--but one that has all the niceties of normal everyday living, with the flowers, the butterflies in the stomach, the opening up of the doors, the nervousness. A Real Date with a Decent Guy.

Did I mention that while I was vacuuming this afternoon some old lipstick my nieces fool around with got caught in the vacuum hose and since then it's well, broken. Needless to say, my brother in law has word for me. I am afraid to step downstairs right now.

This is a pointless entry. I just felt like writing something down for various reasons:

1) My ex-boyfriend who broke my heart incredibly just called. Remember him. I spoke about him some days ago on the 28th of September entry. (go to archives for it) Yes. Kevin. The perpetrator of my heart. I don't know what he wants but he called, chuckling like everything is alright between us and I don't hold any grudges. But I do. The only grudge I hold is the grudge where I do not want to go back into the Heartbreak center. Been there, done that. Moving on. But mainly, I do not want a heartbreak to compound my problems now. But you know the heart is not so smart. I may say that now and the next thing I know, I am head over heels for him again.

No, Anita you can handle it. This is America, and you've moved on besides he lives 17 hours away from you. I should be bold and daring to resist him NOW. I should.

The heart is not that smart. I should maybe pull out my tape of Destiny's Child Independent Women to give me strength. Yes, I'll do that.

2) I have ruined our vacuum cleaner. I knew there was a reason why I shouldn't do housework.

3) Sad. Wes Borland just parted ways with Fred Durst. The fizzle has left the sizzle. Can Fred cope without him and his outlandish body paint? Tune in next year when the new album is released to find out.

Lamentations of a Former Princess

I am sitting here, in my pretty lace patterned frilly 70's style white shirt and baggy skirt reminiscent of a young lady from the 70's which I am.

I am sitting here, asking truer young lady questions: am I still pretty? will anyone still find me attractive, if in my blah moments I neglect to put on some make-up or pretty clothes like the one I have on today, will anyone still stop to talk to me and ask me how my day is going?

I am sitting here, feeling like the woman I am dressed up to be. Remembering years ago when I did my hair every 3 weeks, colored my hair every other month, and bought some tight clothes that actually made every male go WOW as to how my body looked underneath all the baggy clothes I normally adorned.

Remembering when I could snap on my black body suit, the sheer one with the short sleeves, and zipper front which gave a bird's genreous eye view of my bra, and cleavage but hid the true nature of my breast by teasingly giving snippets of my aroused nipples. I remember how everyone stared at the blouse, at my face, the curly weave I had that made me look like something from a what---70's African-American movie---and at my mouth, perky and mischievous always in a smile, and to my face, sculpted and pristine. I remember it and I chuckle.

Then, I could seek and be sought, and the object of my adventures, my prey had no where to hide when I sought him, because I came prepared with what...2 headlights, and a disarming smile.

When will they ever look at me that way again? So I can be the center of attention once again...at least for some. So I can be wooed, and courted, and feel so pretty both inside, and outside, and...then I shall still sit here, but I shall not ask as many questions. I shall not wonder so much...I shall only chuckle at the past and seek, like a beauty taking a rest from the battles won and lost of old, and gettin ready to ravage the ends of the earth for...another victim that would fall to her knees to the cause.

You give me butterflies, you got me flying so high in the sky, I can't control these butterflies/ You give me something that I can't deny, you got me flying so high in the sky, I can't control these butterflies

I have this achy feeling inside me. You know when you want something, or have a goal or something and suddenly everyone is making your decisions for you, but it just doesn't feel right and you know it.

The only thing that would feel right now, is a grant to film school, a place of my own, and the keys to my heart placed in someone's care. Apart from that I am just swirling in the whirlwind of life's tumultous raindrops.

I saw this today:

Richard Gere, who is deeply devoted to the teachings of the Dalai Lama, says the best way for Americans to deal with the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks is with "the medicine of love and compassion."

Why it struck to me, even though I am not a fan of Richard's is because this is exactly what I thought about. I never like to sound political on my journals, but I thought this to myself, the best way to punish your enemy is to forgive them. Fighting them back, using their own means to fight them, you are only adding some more salt to the bruising injury, and I think that is what they wanted deep inside them. They wanted to draw us out into a duel, so they can see who's got bigger guns, weapons or can terrorize the worst, and kill the most citizens, or sadly, to see who will hurt more.

It's like crazy kids back in high school that would instigate a fight from the quietest kid on the block just because he is so cool and they are not. But I guess, political matters defeat me, my knowledge in handling them is no better than my knowledge of who is the governor of my state...which I don't know by the way.

I have this ritual every morning, before I do anything, I write down in all my journals. It's okay except when you do not have any profound thoughts to document that day you are left fishing for something challenging to put down in script. Like right now. *laughs shyly, tilting head back.*

Why I put down that verse at the top is because whenever I listen to that song---BUTTERFLIES by Alicia Keys---- it reminds me of falling in love; that easy-breezy-nervous-butterflies-in-the-stomach-blood-rushing-to-the-head feeling. Yeah! I miss that. That feeling when you count the minutes to the next phone call, next visit, next touch, next smile, next kiss. It's so adrenalin worthy that your face gives off a glow unknowingly. *smiles shyly again* It's amazing the journeys our heart takes us; sometimes...most times, it's worth it too.

People still do not want to use the buzz me feature I painstakingly installed all day yesterday. When it says, "Talk to a real person." it means I am online, and when it says "leave me a message," it means I am not. So just say hi and I did stop by.

See how easy it is.

I tried to update fruitlessly today but couldn't. That is why there is that lone "Hello" entry underneath this one. I don't know what was up the ftp servers' ass, but it just refused to take in my update.

I succeeded in including a humanclick button, but I can't get to see the pop up button when I wish to chat, so what is it's use either way. The troubles of trying to maintain some fun on one's website, it grows and grows.

With it I noticed that some readers spend a average amount of 45 seconds on my site...how encouraging.

A survey I filled out today:

four movies that made you think
Usual Suspects
Seven
Legends of the Fall
Grand Canyon

four celebrities you dream to have sex with
Only four, damn...the choices a girl is faced with: okay, Keanu, Mark Wahlberg, Vin Diesel and of cos, AJ.
others include: Nick, Anthony Kiedis, Brad Pitt, Paul Walker, Hugh Jackman, Ed Norton, the list could go on. I am sorry I never said I was a saint. Notice how this list comprises of everyone on my fans list below.

four charities/causes that you would donate to if you won the lottery
I don't know their names: but, Cancer research, sponsor a child, feed the hungry, and United Way.

four vacations you have taken or want to take
Italy-rome, France-Paris, New York, and San Francisco.

four songs you get stuck in your head frequently
No More Drama--mary j blige
U remind me--usher
Got you under my skin--Frank Sinatra
Long Walk..jill scott

four things you'd like to learn
building webpages..excellently
photography
spanish
write screenplays

four artists you'd love to see in concert
Dogstar, Michael Jackson, Sting, Enrique Iglesias/RHCP

four people who make your day
my nieces, my sistas on onesista2anotha, Kerry, Lea, Viv, Gennie,
etc. That's more than 4...I cheated.

hey

Conversations with Myself

I am thinking of doing this series called "Conversations with myself."

It would be like a compilation of all the conversations I often have with myself, when I am afriad, happy, worried, watching a movie alone in a theater or at home, or just when I suddebnly feel the need to hear someone else's opnion even though it is still me talking but I want to pursue a different side of me. I often write them down on my other journal: Rants and Pieces but I haven't written any good one in here. I might transfer some of the ones I have done already, though they are in my pen name: Aphie, just as an example, a starter, a teaser. But I may move them here, or write a whole new set of conversations. It depends.

That picture of Keanu down here, under my fans link emotes a mental picture of meeting him at a sidewalk cafe somewhere in a foreign country where he has gone on to seek anonymity in a grown out beard, ruffled clothes, and a gentle repertoire; and we share a table and sip coffee together all damn day. Hmm, strange this sounds vaguely familiar to my story called Conversations.

Why are we happy...why do I suddenly sound so cheery and feel the need to update more than once today. Well...

Because we are celebrating no more drama in our lives...

I think the archiving is working now. But it looks so god-awful, but I am too tired to fool with it right now. Gosh! Blogger, you would think something will work okay the first time, and stay that way.

My archiving formula isn't working. I wish someone would help me figure it out.

I am thinking of signing in this journal on diarist.net but I don't think it would help since no one reads it either way. I had one reader once, but I haven't heard a thing from him, or the anonymous others who bump into this journal. But I might still put it up on diarist.net, any time I have enough time on my hands to mess with programs.

Okay the long line of interviews and meetings is over...for a while. All I can say is Thank God the last one turned out pretty good. I love everyone, I love everyone, the world, and everyone in it. I feel that good. I shall feel even better months from now when everything is finalised and I get the last bit of document granting me the will to take the European trip I have often prayed night and day about; filling in journal entries from sidewalk cafes in Paris or Rome. SIGHS. The dreams I have...

Everything working out means a tremendous amount to me. If I could get a grant to go study my film school course stuff I shall be equally happiermaybe love everyone in the world more. But I will settle with what I have for now. Let's not be greedy.
I had a dream last night that I was having an affair with Brendan Fraser. The tall lead actor in The Mummy movies. I don't know why him. But in the dream, in the affair he liked me a lot. That was the funny, very unlikely part. That it wasn't me, craving and longing for a man, it was vice versa. He actually lied to his wife about where he was just so he could come to meet me and spend some time with me out on the road in the desert somewhere.

Don't ask me it was a dream, I have no idea what I was doing out on a desert.

So, I remember him talking to her on the phone while I was there of course, but I pretended not to listen, he finished the conversation with, "I love you." You see he still loves her, then WTF is he doing with me. Then, I overheard him telling his friend, that though he still loves his wife, he just might leave her ina heartbeat if I wanted him to, but that I haven't.

Then, he left. So my friend asks me, why did I let him leave, I said, I didn't want to get him all excited about me, when he had a wife he obviously was in love with. That if I did let his niceness and his charm and those warm eyes get to me, I could get my heart broken badly. She agreed. But to my suprise Brendan came back to see me. He came to see me saying he couldn't stop thinking about me, and then....I woke up.

I don't know why his face or the idea of him came to me in my dream. Though he is a cute guy with an obviously warm heart, but I don't know why I dreamt about him. Maybe, my heart was finding a way to relax and somehow Brendan, who is so gentle, like a gentle giant with those soft green eyes of his---to me he has the softest eyes on a man---represented that.

Hang tight everyone.

I haven't updated in a while because I have been stuck in a whirlpool called myself, my life, the Unlikelihood of living it. You know how people often write shorts of what they wish for in life:


"I want to be a rocket scientist, I want to go to Paris, I want to be an actress, I want to have children."


You know those kind of things. Well mine would probably read:


I want to get my life started.


I haven't written because I have been self absorbed, bitter, and so so repugnant, blaming myself, tasking myself, and feeling stupid with myself. I continually ask, "How did I get here?" and if I knew the answer, would I have done some things differently, "Yes, I would." I may say that I wouldn't sometimes, but I definitely would.


I have now solved the mystery as to why every single person, or place I smell has Sola's (mystery man from last entry distinctive smell in it. Not because I have been thinking about him uncontrollably or that he is the preoccupant of my flailing psyche...No. You have no idea how good it feels to say that too. (because once upon a time he was)


However, I remember one of the last things he said to me; the last time we had a real friendly conversation without gratuitious stupid sex (from me) getting involved.


He told me not to make the BIG decision I was planning to make, not to pursue my dream and make the move, and not to change my life. Why? Because, yada, yada, yada, yada and so forth, in short all of the strange miserable things that have been happening to me now, were mentioned in his prediction.


And so there I was hopelessly in love with him, ready to gulp every word from his coy self-deprecating mouth, making me his teenie psychophant, I was crawl if he had said so. But I wasn't ready to accept this one thing from him which was to go against his grain, follow my instincts and pursue my dream. I wanted my dream that bad. Nothing, not even he (who supposedly meant so much to me) could stop me in my hot pursuit of it.


I cannot tell you now that I don't regret it at least a little bit. I cannot tell you that as much as the boy annoyed me it makes me hate him more not for how he treated me but because the state of my life is proving his prediction right. It hurts me, and stings inside me every time I remember what day it is, or how much time has passed along since then. It hurts like an open grazed wound.


All I can do is pray that the God I serve would not let my dream die and let him be right forever, that He would understand my need for a belief in a miracle, and help me to be the instrument that birngs that to effect; that He would let me see the goodness after the storm and would eventually let me have the satisfaction of proving Sola wrong. I deserve that much from life. A second chance at survival.


The makeup content is what makes it so worthwhile...sometimes in living.

My website: The 2 of them actually, the one under: aphrodite201_uk, and anitaifudu both turned 1 year old today.

I didn't even notice until I went in there to update the frames a bit, switch the colors around a bit. I'm always doing that.
**clicks wine glasses together**

But here's to many more years, of fun, free (not free though thinking of getting a domain next year) site ownership. Hopefully, I MAY have better luck this year on the site than I did last year. Last year was full of drama, abuse, turmoil, getting acquainted with the hidden humor in hatemail, "niceness" , in people on the Net and all the other oddities that one encounters as a virgin in web usage.

I haven't been up to blogging recently because I encountered a major problem the last time I tried to do my archives, just after I had written this nice poem to go with my entries of previous months before this blog came along. I have everything down from January to August, and I am hoping my current readers would be able to catch up on, but I am so doubtful the aim would not be achieved in the end. Why? Because I am well out of ideas as to where to stick the links to it. The archive template would have been the best but this damn thing doesn't want me to change the look of it: It is stuck with that template and any customizations will not take effect....so says the handbook on this thing. But I shall keep thinking...hopefully while I keep waiting to be added to the directory and hoping that someone--except me---gets to read this damn bullshit I write ever so often.

My friends don't read it. I wish I could give them the link so they can get to know what is happening to me, what I am thinking and what I have been up to when I am not talking to them or writing them emails. But they are all so web-deprived or web-ignorant (and proud to be), and some of them just don't have the interest in it. What's the Net when they can score cool guys and talk to cool people in real life...y'know?

Sad, very sad. I think the Web is an educational institute on its own, anyone who thinks otherwise is a bogger.

Do sign my guestbook if you are reading this, I want to be assured I am not wasting my bloody time---not like it will stop me---but I still want to know. You cannot believe I am talking to myself, or rather inside myself, reading the words I am about to type but I am reading them ina thick English accent. you know, the type you hear in East Enders. Cor Blimey? Do I miss that place that much? Bloody hell, Anita, get a life.

I am.