My Random Thoughts

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

who said that?

I don't know who made yesterdays post. It was much too warm and optimistic to be me.

Ok, I know I left out some major info on the old dude Drew, but basically, I had to leave him alone after he showed me his hella psycho stalker possessive obsessive moving to fast tendencies. Now why, why, oh why, oh why? Did he call me at 4:52 this morning? And no, it wasn't a booty call type thing; it wouldn't fit under the terms of any type of association we've had. But since I was very asleep, I don't remember what he said. So I called him today to go off on him for calling, but to no avail. Dude doesn't want to get dirrty (xtina…Ha! Oh, by the way, her CD is pretty good) <--who said that?

So yeah, psycho old dude seriously needs to stop. I know people that know people. You better act like you know...Hee.

I have to mingle with the work folk tonight...this should be interesting...

.: posted by Princess Portia 4:48 PM

Monday, November 25, 2002

when it actually goes well

I was going to come and finish the story about psycho old dude, but I'm too elated to think about such trivial things. The whole man-whore thing goes wrong so often, that when it actually goes right, you're caught off guard. Which brings me to last night...
Does anyone remember the dude that works at K-Mizzle that I might have mentioned once or twice? The one that, just like me, has a Shakespearean name? Yeah, Mr. Clark. It's been so long since I just enjoyed talking to someone. Not debating, just having positive dialogue. It's not like most, "get to know you," phases where you ask the, "29 questions," and it's pretty cut and dry. I ask something, he answers, and it develops into interesting conversation. And the same goes in reverse. To actually look forward to hearing what someone has to say, and communicating so well...needless to say it's refreshing. And of course, the attraction is there, but it wasn't priority number one. In other words, he didn't try to hump my leg; he was more interested in seeing where my mind was. Don't get me wrong, I'm not gushing, I will remain levelheaded. It's just I usually bring all of my rants here, it's time for a rave. Ok, back to Mr. Mentally Stimulating. He's 6'4. You have no clue how good a thing that is. I love me some men that make me feel short. Now to be tall, smart, and give some of the best hugs all at once? Hmm. Much to many people's surprise, I'm a really affectionate person, so things like hugs are muy importante. So yeah, I was slow dancing to Otis Redding and Percy Sledge under a 3/4 moon by the bay. Sound out of character? You would be surprised. Yeah, the cynical, sarcastic Portia does get down like that, with the right inspiration.
I kind of felt though, like I was writing my own love story. I mean, with the scenery and all. I don't know. I'll just enjoy it before he gets psycho or dishonest on me. See...I'm still a pessimist!

.: posted by Princess Portia 11:09 AM

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

blech
Ok, so I was supposed to finish recounting the psycho unauthorized possesive drama I encountered. I will, I promise. And there's more!

.: posted by Princess Portia 5:41 PM

Monday, November 18, 2002

sketched
I really need to post more consistently to ensure that nothing important is forgotten. I hope all is well with everyone...

Last week I mentioned old guy from work that I was kind of getting acquainted with. That's off. Dude is crazy. And you know what? His name is Drew. No made-up witness protection program aliases. He doesn't deserve one. And that says a lot considering I've withheld the names of some of my least favorite people on here. Ok, but back to the drama. So me and old dude (Drew) hung out a few times this week. He's really nice, generous, and emotionally open. Too emotionally open. So yeah, we spent some time together last week, and Thursday when he asked me to stay over after dinner I rejected. He's not the type that I really have to worry about humping my leg while I sleep or anything, but he lives way out in Riverview (like a 20 minute drive) and I still would have had to go all the way back home before I had to be at work at 7:30 a.m. So I declined the offer. And he gets all whiny. So I explain to him that I can't make my self all available time wise now because there will definitely be days and nights when I'm not available, and rather than allow him to establish these unrealistic expectations now, he needs to understand and, "blah, blah, blah." So I can tell he's mad, but whatevs. So to throw icing on the cake, I tell him that I'll be in O for the entire weekend. SO he huffs and puffs some more, then I leave. To test the waters and see just how mad he was, when I got home I called to let him know I made it safely (so I could hear his tone). He's all mmhmm, ok, yeah. So I knew he was pissed, but could care less. I mean, he's not my boyfriend.
So all day Friday at work I don't hear from him (the days before he called like 5 times an hour...ugh). So this is yet another indicator of how he handles, "concerns." So I go on with my day and night. So at like 1 a.m. at The Caribbean, this club in Orlando, there's a song I don't want to dance to on, so like my drunken self, I send Drew a text message saying: "Just for clarif, RU pissed over some petty ish
...The next day, I have a text msg response from him saying: "I don't think you're feeling me like I'm feeling you. That's not petty, it's real. So I'm like ooooooooh goodness. Bruh wants to have, "that talk." (Isn't the girl supposed to be the one that wants to have that? And NOT after a week or less!) So I don't respond because frankly, I don't know what to say. So me and Tiffany go shopping, make some interesting purchases and as we're heading to the mall, Drew calls. Before I get to this part, let me add that Sprint has decided not to provide me with a signal in Tiffany's apartment. So anyone that called before I woke up and went out to my car was not acknowledged. So he calls all confrontational like saying, "oh so you're not answering my calls now?" And me being the defensive-never-to-be-talked-down-to-prideful-chick explained to him that he needed to chill with the Ike Turner ish and take into consideration who my PCS service provider is, and that I didn't have a signal in the apartment. (Not to mention that it was storming hellaciously, which was also a contributing factor. So then I try to tell him about my interesting purchase, which some guys would b al like, "oh hell yeah," about, and acknowledge it as a healthy purchase and a sign of comfort with self. But he gets all insecure little twit on me like, "what I'm not good enough for you?" Thus making this about him. See now, I could have been honest and been like, "well since you asked, no you're not. Our conversation wasn't long enough for me to see what's on your mind." (Heh, tm Sweetpea.) But I just blew off the oh so infantile question for such an old guy to be asking. I might have to make a random list of all the proper responses that could have been made. So I hurry up and terminate the convo before I go off on him.
Jump forward to around 8 p.m. Two problems here: If a female is out of town with friends, let her call you, don't call her. Usually when you go out of town, you have some mission or another, which means you’re not just sitting at home waiting for people form your home city to call. Ok, so he calls as I’m out driving around the streets of Orlando looking for food. He starts professing his freaking love to me! Now, in a situation where I had known someone for more than say 9 hours short of a week, this might have been sweet. But that mess was just sketchy. He doesn't even know me. And I'm not all into that jump into a relationship mess. Wow, he actually made me miss "Miami by way of Tallahassee," for a second. At least he wanted to allow things to progress healthily. So after Drew finishes his little spiel, I'm like, "umm thank you." "I'm speechless." "'K, bye, bye!" And for the record, this conversation with it's too much; too soon content is a major red flag to what happened last night. But my hand hurts, I'll finish the rest later.

.: posted by Princess Portia 9:35 AM

Thursday, November 14, 2002

busy much?

A few things...

Cigarettes are gross.
Old men can be sweet.
EGGNOG IS HERE!!!!!!!

All reggae clubs aren't so bad. I finally went to one where all the freaking, "dreads," weren't pulling on you and approaching you like it was their divine right to have your attention and phone number. One thing I don't particularly fancy though is how they never finish a song. It's cool when I do it in my car, (skip to the next some before the chorus even begins) but to hear, "buck, buck, buck, buck, buck," or whatever the hell they're saying, accompanied by loud overdramatic gunshot sounds right when you get into a song can be quite frustrating. So yeah, I chose to partake in the reggaerial pleasures of an establishment that's actually only a few blocks from where I live after being begged to by a co-worker. So why do I see like 4 people I no longer speak to, and end up getting into a, "scintillating conversation," with a dude from work??? He works in a different department, but still. So he's cool. Very cool. But in a round-about way I've already done the fraternization thing (Leroy Jenkins, though he's in the Gym and not actually related to the business), so it's like umm. But umm. I don't know. He smokes though, and that's gross. Not around me because I've clearly communicated that I've very anti-nicotine (unless I'm drunk, and we all know I don't drink) so he knows the deal. But I've had to get up from my desk more this week that ever... meeting old' boy in the lobby w/food for me, etc., etc. I hate when people try to spoil me, not realizing the monster they will resurface by doing so. Spoiled Brattica, mistress of the material world. I mean, I spoil myself enough as it is, I don't need these guys aiding and abetting this madness. But enough about that.

My computer is officially dead. However, I can't take Mookie to the doctor just yet because my pimp (TECO...Tampa Electric Company) has full claim on the money I would use to pay for it. Email me if you would like to make a donation. I promise I'll post more that once a week if you do. (*makes little sweet girl innocent pouty face*)

Let's talk about the whole, "playing house thing." Actually, let's wait until I get to work. I'll finish this post up there. Enjoy your morning!

ok...the playing house thing. Basically, when you're in a serious relationship, the, "I stay there, you stay here," thing is ok. But in moderation. When you're just getting to know eachother, there's absolutely no reason to be all up in eachother's residences 24 hours a day like you're payin rent. It's just not appropriate... there was more, but I forgot...

.: posted by Princess Portia 9:08 AM

Friday, November 08, 2002

...but only when mos def is out of town...

.: posted by Princess Portia 1:30 PM

Ok, so I know Common (sense) is like 40, but that's my new huuuuuuuuuusband. Man is gifted and has a traffic stopping smile? Hmm..

.: posted by Princess Portia 1:18 PM

MIA for the umpteenth time...

Hi there, my name is Portia. This is my online journal thing. I'm a scrub. I haven't been here in almost a week. Nice to meet you.

Dude, so much has not happened, and so much has happened, I don't know what to say, or where to start. Hmm. I guess I could break it down into life categories...

work: The usual...sitting across the way from Boqueesha, trying to master the art of sleeping with my eyes open, challenging myself daily to see how little I can do while getting paid (joke, I'm a hard worker, really, I swear!), and that's about it.

school: I'm doing well, things have slowed down in my Shakespeare class, so that's better. I have a couple of quizzes next week, but nothing extreme. Homecoming is this weekend, and in my so fair in vain efforts to be more sociable on campus, I'm going, but I'm not sure who with yet.

everything else: Let's see, this weeks weakest link was definitely Mr. Wal Mart. Bruh is fine as all hell, but there's seriously nothing up top. He's not ignorant or rude; he's just not the brightest bulb. Do you know how long it's been since I had to define a word for someone? (Not to mention a word that's an everyday word in my vocabulary). I just can't talk to him because it's pointless. I can't say that I've tried too much though, when he asks me something, or tries to spark up a conversation, I'll reply with the minimal words responses as he sits there staring, doing the side ways head thing Penelope does when she hears a strange sound. But he's so nice, open, and genuine, that I feel bad writing him off. He can just sit there and be pretty for a while. Oh, another thing about him, he likes to sleep almost as much as I do! So he's content with just passing out on my couch in the middle of the day while I go in my room and sleep in my bed. He's not a persistent leg humper, and did I mention that he's a hottie? Oh yeah, I did.

Umm, what else? Leroy Jenkins is still being Leroy Jenkins. It's a bit ridiculous, any day now I expect him to call and tell me that he's having my baby so we must be together. Heh. Yeah he would do that. Seriously though, we're cool. As long as he can avoid all the, "my Cherie amore," crap and just be content with our association simply functioning as a friendship it's all good.

Telly apparently left the universe for a week and then tried to be all, "back from outer space like." You know when you don't call someone for an extended period of time, and then they call you trying to lay it like, "sorry I didn't call," even though they did, and caller id had been in existence for years now. Really, I just forgot about him. Out of sight...out of mind. But when he is in front of me...

Wait, do I need to put in a disclaimer that these are all friends that just so happen to be fine, and that there is no sex in the champagne room? You should know better, but there you go.

Another one bites the dust...well actually the dust had been bitten for about a month (actions speak louder than words, so if I say one thing and do another, believe what I do...I know man, but I'm human...) but the dust biter apparently just realized it. I don't know how to say, "you just don't do it for me," in any other language but English, so you have to settle for that.

I actually wasn't sick this week, for once. I'm contemplating a trip to O this evening, but I don't know...but the Tiff is under the weather, and I have to go play sunshine for my, "bestest friend forever." I'm hoping for a fun weekend though. This week went really fast, and Monday I once again have to work on a bank holiday. But as long as they keep the double time and a half coming, I'm there.

Remember my god babies momma and her pretty pretty baby? Well, Miss Olivia is getting cuter everyday, and smarter (and bigger too!) She'll be six months pretty soon, and wow, time flies.

Umm...ok, that's all. Nothing more to see here. Have a stupendously wonderful weekend!

.: posted by Princess Portia 11:46 AM

Friday, November 01, 2002

the upper hand, "tea," and other ish...

I hate it when I have a kick butt title (and content) selected, but by the time I get in front of the PC it's all forgotten. Let's take a moment to discuss the, "upper hand." When you have it, it's all gravy train. But the moment you lose it, ish is rough. I'm talking I need jergens to smooth this mess rough. And as a female, it's amazing how quickly the upper hand can disappear from right under your nose. I mean you could have it for years, then with the slightest emotional faux paux, you lose it. And you immediately see/feel the difference. I'm talking in like nanoseconds. And it sucks. No need for details...watching other people go through this ish inspired me. But I know from past experience it can be hella traumatic. It's amazing how the smallest thing can make you bug over someone your words/thoughts/actions have clearly shown that you don't give a fuck about. And when that happens. You have lost the upper hand. And for a female. Once it's gone, it's gone. Don't believe the Morris Chestnut/Vivica A. Fox movie, "Two can play that Game." Guys can lose/regain the upper hand if they choose to endure and persevere. But the same does not apply to broadies. You lose it, you lose it forever. And you either a.) choose to suffer through a lose/lose situation (without the upper hand, you can't win, man!) or b.) recall what occurred to cause you to lose the upper hand and avoid that type of incident with all future associations. Shit really hurts the ego though. It's like whoa. But umm...what else was I going to discuss? Oh yeah, good drunk/bad drunk. But I'm sleepy now, so that'll be coming soon, in a post near you. Lates. Excuse the typos...I'll correct them in the am...the tea did it...not me.