Laila: A Life in Progress

This Blog contain the rantings of a cute,but crazy black woman. Come along for the ride, suspend your belief in reality; come peek into life as I see it. Who knows you might enjoy yourself.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Damn New Technology

I have such a bad memory (Thank you u pot). I constantly have to be reminded of important things,especially dates.So with the advent of the computer;came online calendars.And this kiddies,has helped me save face on quite a few occasions over the past few years. My calendar is set to send me an email,seven ,three and the day of an event. So now I only rarely forget birthdays and other important events. So the other day when I was online, I received the customary pre-birthday email to remind me the feeble-minded to send out a birthday card. Oh shit!
His name was Dylan, and I thought that I had gotten rid of all evidence of him. I forgot to remove this birthday from my online calendar.Well, I quickly resolved that problem. But it's too late. The email forced me to remember everything the good,the bad, and all the drama. Just when I was content with the fact that he was out of my system, or was he? Well if he is truly out of my system, then why do I still have our pictures hidden at the bottom of my nightstand? And why, do I still want to call him, just to say Happy Birthday ? What the hell is wrong with me? I've told you that I read a few self help books. Exorcising your Ex, How to spot a bastard by his star sign, And the best of the best. He's just not that intoYou. After all I am the Bookstore Diva. I know what your thinking. Oh no,not again. Do we have to hear the Ballad of Laila & Dylan again? Well pipe down out there in the peanut gallery, not everyone has heard the story. And if you have, get over it, this my blog remember. Your an invited guest. It's not nice to annoy the hostess. Didn't your mother teach you anything ? Everyone's a critic. Jeez.
I believe that there have been three men that have shaped my love life. My father, my ex-husband, and Dylan.
Most women, for some unknow reason to them;tend to go after men like their fathers,whether they realize it or not. Believe me, it was not my intention on marrying a man like my father, in fact I was going for the opposite.
I once told my dad, that having been born into this family,that I was destined for a 12 step program. Who knew?
One of the things I've learned is that I am what is called a "care-taker". I want to save the world, and fix everyone's problems. All except my own. I call it the Mother Theresa complex.Yes, I am bucking for sainthood.
Saint Laila does have a nice ring to it. I've even gotten at least one miracle under my belt. More will be revealed.
I met Jason during my junior year of college. And no, I didn't know that he and Justin were related. We were taking the same class and we ended up being in a study group together. When I looked at him, there was something familiar about him.But I just couldn't put my finger on it. Duh! Anyhoo, He was dating this supermodel in training. And believe me, she had the life style down to a science, but was as dumb as a bag of rocks. Beautiful girl,but she was an absolute mess.She ended up flunking out school and eventually was shipped off to rehab by her parents.That's how Jason and I became friends,basically he needed a shoulder to cry on. I caught him on the rebound. I once asked Jason,why did he asked me to marry him ? He said, "it's because you are intelligent, and you would be a good wife,someone who would be faithful no matter what". Can you tell that I suffered from horrible low self esteem.
I was always a fat girl. I pretended that most things didn't bother me. But they really did. So early on, I had decided that I would be like a duck and let it all roll off my back. I didn't date much. Now granted, I'm not butt-ugly. But I have never been comfortable with my appearance as with most women. Just in case you wanted to know. I married the first cute guy that asked.
I do have standards ; ugly is hard on the eyes.
If there were two people that were not suppose to be together, it was Jason and I. Were weren't even oil & water. We were ammonia and bleach, yes the combination seems good, but the fumes could also kill you.
Part of the problem was that we both underestimated each other. I guess, it's the same in any relationship.
He thought that I was going to be subservient,and I thought that he wasn't that big of an ASSHOLE. We were both wrong. Ladies take note, If you think that you have found Prince Charming, but everyone else around you sees a toad. It's time for an eye exam. My father hated him from day one. Daddy & Uncle Chili made it very clear that if he ever hurt me,that he would meet with an unfortunate accident. Luckily, for Jason,I never had to call in the troops. I did my own dirty work. My theory is this, If I'm going to jail for something,it will be for something I actually did. Not for something someone else fucked up. Not that I don't trust Uncle Chili's handy work, I mean he did escape from the pentitentary and lived on the outside for a long time. But he eventually was caught again. This where the irony comes in to play. I married into a family even worst than my own. Jason's mother Isabella,was absolutely insane.And she hated me as much as my father hated him. As you can tell our holiday gatherings were a hoot.(Yes,I said hoot).
Some of you may know of a certain "little" problem that I have with members of a certain ethnic group. I find prejudice to be such an ugly word. But I'm not fond of Mexicans. There I said it. There are people who hate Black people, there are people hate Koreans. I just happen to hate Mexicans for no reason at all. In fact, if I don't like you personally,then your automatically a Mexican. As far as I'm concerned. It's part of my psychosis, Let's move on. Marrying into the Martinez family made my dysfuntional family seem almost normal. And believe that was no easy task. And after living with these people you would understand why,there is no love for the Mexicans. By the way, they are actuallyPuerto Ricans; same thing as far as I'm concerned.
Well more about those simple-assed Mexicans later. Hey I just realized that I forgot about Dylan. We can talk about him another time.

Laila

1 Comments:

  • At 3:08 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Phew, thank Gaaawd that I'm South African!

    xxx R.

    P.S. Can Uncle Chili will all of his skills and connections perchance swing me a Green Card? I'd say I deserve it just for my stamina!
    I miss you, girl, more and more as I read your blog.

     

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