Why did I see an Asian girl with a Morehouse College sweatshirt on? I don’t know. But Hero text’d me last night. He said "sorry for not calling, I’ve been feeling confused. Happy Birthday." Then, as I knew he would, he called. He sounded really sad and eventually asked me to come and visit. I said no and stuck to it even though he begged and cried. At least he said he was crying. So anyway, I'm glad I moved my blog before he read the last entry. So I kept saying no and eventually he decided he would come and visit me after he got off work which would make him arrive around 4am. I was excited. I did some cleaning and went to the store. But he called and said he was to tired. I believe him. He sounded like and said that he misses me. This is a turn for the better. Him wanting and willing to do the four hour drive that is usually mine. He said he is coming later this week. I wish he would come for Valentines Day. I stood my ground on not going ‘cause I was so sad about the way he acted after the last time. I wonder if I should have further stood my ground and told him he couldn’t visit. Hell no, this is my husband. I should slap myself for thinking of that.

Playing catch up again...

Today I feel frank.

So frankly, last weekend, I went to see Hero. He begged me to. I kinda regret it. Except that I saw The Grudge. A movie that I had been ever so anxious to see. But, it sucked. Okay back to the frankness, I think we had sex two or three times. Regardless of the total number OF times, the total time still calculates at frankly less than twenty minutes. Sorry Hero. I wish I knew what that meant, the whole one minute man thing. I took some brand new explicit lingerie and cute pajamas, both from VS. But I ain’t wear them cause the timing didn’t feel right. What else? He left hella early from the hotel. Said he had to workout, maybe he is on steroids and that’s why he’s such a two pump chump. Never mind, I forgot, I don’t think he went to workout, I think he had to hurry home to Danielle. Oh yeah, that’s who he lives with. Supposedly because his water is off cause he can’t pay his bill. This is either true and he is too broke for my attention or he just lives with her for no reason. In that case he’s just a horrible liar. I know if, no, when he reads this, he will think I am trying to hurt his feelings because ironically he recently hurt mine by not wishing me a happy birthday less than one week after this visit. But that’s not true. The above just is what it is. Plus he doesn’t pick his feet up at all anymore when he walks and that disgusts me. Even more frank, despite the bad sex and the lazy feet and the lies, I don’t hate him. Still feel the same actually. Maybe he can take another stab at it one day. As far as the whole lack of a birthday call, it really hurt but I decided to let it go because my hearts not in the place to retaliate anymore. At least as far as Hero goes. He’ll also wanna know who I saw in the club that told me his business. Wait, maybe that secret is my revenge. Ahhh, sweet success.

What else? I have self-diagnosed myself once again. Since I had to get rid of Sage, my puppy love or puppy mama or doo-doo pup or dookey-shoot, I have rebelled by not cleaning up certain things. I realized that I have this syndrome, when I am sad; I like my house to reflect that. So, in memory of Sage, or Sadey-duke, I leave clothes in the floor that she would normally chew. Plus, I won’t wash the rug because I think she peed on it. And I still have her water and food bowl in the kitchen, where she eats. (Used to eat) I did take up her doggy bed and blanket. Ahh, I miss you Sage love. Come back. So once on wife swap, this new mom did all this feng-shui (I suck at Asian) stuff to the peoples house. And she said you can like release energy from a room to the room above it, to create different sorts of energies or emotion into the upstairs room. So since my landlords bedroom is right above mine, I always try to release energy that will make her let Sage come back. Until then, she is at my sister’s.

My birthday just passed, I am 23 now. 23 is so uninspirational. {A lot of people I know are pregnant. I think they are stupid. All four of them.} But anyway, 23. Where is the definition in the number? This year may reek apathy because it feels no different from the last. Except that I am graduating. I celebrated my birthday Thursday night. So much fun. The rapper and I have a mutual friend. When he brought him up at my celebration, my drunken tongue spoke a sober mind. I basically described to his friend my POA to end up on MTV Cribs, impregnated with The Rapper’s baby, poolside. My tongue is my enemy when I drink. But it’s Hero’s best friend. Well it used to be but no more M&L service for him for a while. I know he missed that when I came to visit. How did I end up back on him? Don’t know, but I didn’t dance for him or anything. He didn’t take me there this time. The only thing that he did do that hurricane Katrina-ed my new undies was..nevermind too explicit. The new undies were nice though, I think he appreciated them. Pink, with small white polka dots and a sheer like covering over the fabric. $60 for the set. A Christmas gift. But back to my celebration. I drank myself under the table. My birthday was actually Friday and I didn’t get in till after 3 Thursday night and had a test at 8am. I made it and passed. Probably was a good thing that Red-bull Raspberry Margaritas was my drink of choice at least 9 times over. Oh yeah, funny how when you are having fun, things that normally tick you off, just don’t . So anyway, one of my best friends came to my party. Then suddenly his baby mama showed up. I didn't trip cause she and I are damned-near friends. So she was welcome to attend. But she showed up with her friends that weren’t invited. They sat far away from my party area, at the bar. I later learned she had just come to spy on him. BIATCH, don’t come to my party just to watch your sons father because your ugly ass is justifiably insecure. I don’t care, still like her, she’s really nice and I will never bring it up but I decided to go there on my blog because the next sober day I realized that she was rude. All I got for my b-day was money and a cd. That sucked. Like $225+45+45+2(my niece)+23, whatever that is. I suck at math. But I am the star-student in my math class. Which is so far eerily easy. Friday, the day of the birth, I did dinner with my family.