Goodness! Someone save this child! Her eyebrows are all the way off the chain. SMH.

Some women need to chill with the Rose Art eyebrows. I may feel some type of way because I have naturally thick eyebrows and don’t have to draw mine on but it’s beginning to get ridiculous. If you live or have lived in LA at any point during the 1990′s/early 2000′s,  you know what the “Sharpie Eyebrow” is. If not, it’s when a woman shaves her eyebrows off and draws them on in what appears to be permanent marker. You can actually google “sharpie eyebrows” and see exactly what I’m talking about. It’s 2012 and chicks are walking around like there isn’t an abundance of tutorials on YouTube showing how to work your eyebrows.

Man, if I see another girl with the eternal look of surprise I think I’ll scream. The funny thing is that’s not the only look. Some girls draw them on too long (see: picture above) and have nerve to really think it’s cute. NO ONE’S EYEBROWS ARE 14 INCHES LONG!

Sometimes, I feel like wiping people’s eyebrows off. I might promote myself to the Eyebrow Guardian and regulate these walking disasters. I promise you, bogus eyebrows are behind the polar ice caps melting.

I know there are several things that influence the cost of fuel but give me a break! I could have sworn gas was just $4.19, last week and now, it’s averaging $4.37 in my area. HOW DID WE GO FROM $4.19 TO $4.37 IN A WEEK??! That’s insane I tell you! I fill up twice a week. I’m glad I don’t drive a luxury car at this point. My Mom does and she spending at least $80 each time she fills up. And I’m sure my Dad is feeling it in his 8-cylinder. I just want to drop in the middle of the street and yell “WHY??” Actually, I want to act a fool, like when Carlton thought Lisa killed Will, in the cabin, on “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air” and he drug himself across the set (see .gif below).

You know what I could do with the money I’m spending on gas each month? I could buy a round trip plane ticket to Chicago. I could also cater Popeye’s for lunch at my job, for 100 people. Man, that’s easily between 8 and 10 ounces of Virgin Indian hair. I just can’t with gas going up. If it gets anywhere near $5, I’m buying a bus pass and I’ll be writing letters to my friends explaining why I can’t make it to Lucky Strike to sip on Cadillac Margaritas and check out the hotties.

I’m power walking to class one day, right? But at the same time, I’m all into this conversation I’m having via text. All of a sudden, I hear someone say, “I’ve seen you around.” At first, I was going to pretend like I didn’t hear him—actually, I think I did—but he repeated it. I decide that I won’t be rude today.

I turn around and this guy approaches me. He asks where I’m going and I tell him class. I also include that I’m late so he can understand I’m not interested but this fool strikes up a full-blown conversation. I’m a fairly nice person so I don’t tell him straight up I don’t want to be bothered; I just let him talk. While he’s talking, I’m fidgeting and shifting my weight from one foot to the other, HOPING he’ll get the point. Fail.

After he tells me his life story, he asks for my number. Fortunately, I set up a Google Voice account last year so I give him that. The only problem is I haven’t set it up to forward the calls/texts from Google to my phone. And guys, nowadays, want to text you while they’re in front of you forcing you to give them the right number -___- I think I’m slick, too! But when he sends the text, I don’t get it; I blame it on not having service. He tells me it’s cool and to text him later. Fine.

So, since then, I’ve been laying low around school because I don’t want to run into him again and have him ask why I haven’t hit him back yet (I’ve had that happen before and it was low key embarrassing :-/ ).

The point of this story, is: 1) I should have told him I wasn’t interested; 2) Guys, PEOPLE, need to be observant of another person’s body language so as to figure out when to shut it down; and 3) Get a Google Voice account so weirdos aren’t running around with your real number.

Everyone has been ushered into the Friend Zone at least once in their life. But some don’t understand why. First, let me break down what the Friend Zone is for those who don’t know. The Friend Zone is a figurative location in which someone you’re interested in places you because they “don’t look at you that way.” Now that we know what it is, let’s discuss what might get you sent there.

It seems that a man will receive a One-Way ticket to the abyss known as the Friend Zone before a woman. No one knows why but a few men have probably mused it’s because they are too much of a gentleman. Now, unless you’re dealing with skip scaps and scallywags, there is no such thing as being too much of a gentleman. In my humble opinion, the majority of people who eat at the Friend Zone table end up there by accident. I’ve sent a guy there because I didn’t know he was into me until waaaaay later. And by the time I found out, I no longer looked at him as a potential prospect. You can avoid that by speaking up! If you’re interested in someone, let them know; the worst they can say is “no.” And you just keep it moving.

Don’t let him/her vent to you about their problems with the opposite sex. Once you let them turn you into a living diary, it’s a wrap. That woman will look at you like you’re her gay BFF and you’ll be sipping Malibu Pineapples with her while dictating her texts to another guy.

Another way to get hurled into the F.Z. is by doing something stupid. By doing something stupid, I mean playing games. Two people may genuinely like each other but one person may still want to “explore” their option and put the other person on the back burner, so to speak. That person is not going to wait on you to decide whether or not you want to move forward (at least I hope not). They may decide the F.Z. suits you better. Me, myself? I wouldn’t even want you there. Lol. You’re playing games?! To the Lion’s Pit you go!

I’ve seen some cases in which people have been extracted from the F.Z. You might get your freedom papers to exit. Try to keep hope alive! If not, just keep moving… It’s funny how some men really get shaken up by being drafted to the F.Z. They must not know the male to female ratio is like 1:10. Lol.

As you guys probably know, I’m usually the last person to listen to music everyone else is hyped about. There isn’t a time I log on to Twitter and don’t see 2 Chainz lyrics make their way down my timeline. I’d heard of him under his moniker “Tity Boi” some years ago but never listened to him. Then, I saw him in the Cipher last year… I think he looks like Big Gipp from Goodie Mob but I digress. I decided to take a listen and find out why everyone is always quoting this guy.

What I Learned:

1. His girlfriend does NOT have a stomach
2. If he commits adultery with your wife and she becomes pregnant, he’ll name the baby “Mercedes”
3. He gets “dough” like Tae Kwon
4. He traps using his Android phone
5. He’s in love with an unemployed young lady named Kesha
6. Shonda had a Honda (??)
7. He enjoys fine leather goods from Gucci & Louis Vuitton

You’ll probably think I’m the worst neighbor but I don’t care. Let me tell you a story. Normally, I’m not a party pooper; I like having a good time as much as the next person but not if it’s going to cost me a good night’s rest. One night, in September or October of last year, my neighbors one street over had a party. I didn’t have a problem since I’m not usually asleep until about 1 a.m., anyway. I figured I’d watch a little Discovery ID until I was ready to go to bed. From what I remember, the party started early; around 8:30 or 9 p.m. I went upstairs to lay down and it seemed the music became louder the later it got. I laid down and told myself the party would die down soon, as it was approaching 12:30 a.m. So, I turned “Mrs. Doubtfire” on and tried to chill. 1 a.m. rolled by and I still heard my neighbors’ guests toasting to this and drinking to that over Swizz Beak’s “Money in the Bank”. I told myself, again, it should start fizzling soon. Guess what? It didn’t. And my window of getting EXACTLY six hours of sleep before work was starting to close. Then 1:45 .a.m. showed up. I’ve never done this before but I had to: I Googled the police department’s number. I sure did call and tell them where the party was. They told me they were sending a car over to check it out. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, that music wasn’t even audible and I swear everyone started whispering. That crap was too funny! I ended up with a little less than six hours of sleep but that was alright. I just wish I could have seen my neighbors’ faces when Mr. Law pulled up, LOL! Yeah, I snitched. But I justify my action with the fact I live in the suburbs; it’s supposed to be quiet here.

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Hitting 25 years of age, last year, really put things into perspective for me. I’m at a point where I want to step up my finance management game. I’m not a reckless spender BUT I can do better; there is always room for improvement. I consider myself a visual person. In order for me to achieve a goal, I have to see it in front of me. That could be drawing up an actual “map” to get where I need to go. A couple of the people I follow on Twitter were talking about a money management service called Mint.com. I was curious about what they were tweeting so I went to the site.

When I got to the site, I took a little tour and even watched the video about how it works. Seems simple enough. Then, I decided to sign up. Anything that helps one to manage his or her money sounds like a good idea to me; I have plenty of short-term goals (a couple of trips and paying off a credit card) and some long-term (improving my credit score, having an emergency fund, saving for a home) that I would like to actually accomplish. I’m going to give this service a spin. I truly hope to change my budgeting habits. I may actually start a new blog just to make it easier to document my progress. Buckle. Up. Kids. We’re about to pull out of the station!

For some reason, people think just because they can’t see or will never see whomever they’re chatting with means it isn’t real life. Sorry for the bad news, buddy but as long as there’s a REAL person on the other end of the conversation, it’s real life. Just the other day, I saw something retweeted by someone I follow saying, “I wouldn’t tweet anything I wouldn’t say in real life.” Dude. Twitter is real life. What I’ve noticed is some reason since one can log off, that in itself means Twitter is some type of fantasy world. I do recognize that there are quite a few people who use Twitter to mislead others into believing they’re something they aren’t. And I guess that’s where the faux-ness comes from. But there are just as many people who front offline as there are on. What’s the difference?

How many news stories have you read that involve people getting into it because of something said on Twitter? Just recently, Ray J (Kim Kardashian sextape fame) and rapper Fabolous had some type of issue over a tweet. As a result, the former went on-air with all kinds of slander for Fabolous. But Twitter isn’t real life, right? Real people get their real feelings hurt on Twitter. I’ve seen people ready to designate a time and place to scrap because of a disagreement ONLINE. Remember, though, Twitter isn’t real life. I guess people would think differently after they got real bruises from real fists hitting their real face.

Another thing is you never know who you’ll run into. I’ve randomly run into a few people offline in the past. I was at a lounge with a few friends and this girl came up to our table and asked if I was such-and-such on Twitter. I told her I was and she said it was nice putting a face to a name, lol. I thought it was extremely random but it goes to show you the world is very small. (That was slightly creepy.) You never know who you’ll run into. It might be the chick you flirt shamelessly with because you figure you’ll never see her. Or the guy you said had a face only befitting a NYC cab driver. I’m not saying kiss peoples’ behind but you really don’t know if you’ll ever see them; people are crazy #outchea! They just might run up on you and then that’s when Twitter WILL get real.

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I am beyond over this stinkin’ BlackBerry. I left Android (HTC G1) in 2009 for a BlackBerry. The reason I did so was because the battery life on my G1 was piss-poor. If the G1 had the BlackBerry’s battery life, I would have never gone astray. At first, I was very happy with my BB. It was small, had a nice QWERTY-board, the battery life was everything and I just felt better having a bar phone as opposed to having one that slid open. The only real problem I had with my first BB was the trackball. It was the 8900 model and the trackball began to give out. Instead of sending for a replacement, I just upgraded to the 9700 because a friend of mine raved about the new OS and trackpad.

I LOVED the crap out of my 9700. I truly thought it was the cow’s spots. And after having it a little over a year, it started to go downhill. I ended up having to get a replacement but I can’t remember why I did. I think I’d cracked the screen or something. When I got the replacement, I thought everything was going to go back to Norman. Wrong. When you receive a replacement, the company only wants the unit back and you keep the battery for the next phone. The battery was fine in my original phone but when I got the replacement, all of a sudden, my phone wouldn’t hold a charge. It shut off at the most inopportune times and the battery gauge on the home screen was misleading; the power was always much lower than what the gauge read. Crap! I was doing a battery pull every two days or so.

I complained to T-Mobile on several occasions. Of course, all they did is try to get me to upgrade (instant contract renewal). But I shattered their little dream. My contract is up March 15, 2012. Don’t think I won’t do the Moonwalk through Verizon’s doors as soon as the store opens so I can get an iPhone. I enjoyed it while it was good, BB but your days are numbered.

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