Friend request intercepted

Sample chapter 5 (cont’d): “Gluttony” pills she had threatened to take that July 16 night? What if she really is depressed?” For that moment, I felt the exact way I did on that July 16th night. I tossed and turned all night andreally hoped she was ok. You never knew with Janet, she knew how to manipulate you intogetting you where she needed you to be-and that happened a lot, especially when she knew Iwanted out.
Later, the night of August 20th, my friend Denise called me. I was nervous because I hadn’t talked with her since January 21-during the beginning of all mess (the morning that Janet,Shawn, and Louisa let loose on me in the room). After that happened, I had gone up to mycollege’s computer lab and via email; briefed her on what had just happened that morning. I wasin such shock because Janet and I had been flirting for a few days and then all of a sudden-without rhyme, reason or warning and with her buddies in tow; she pulled a 360 on me and theyall came down on me like a ton of bricks. I was clueless [and of course at the time] new to all theirtricks and craziness (since I was only about a month broken-in to the room altogether). So whenJanet, Shawn, and Louisa let loose on me; I was shell-shocked. My email to Denise wentsomething like this: “GIRL GUESS WHO THE HELL IS FUCKIN’ WITH ME? YOU’LLNEVER GUESS, SO I’LL TELL YOU: THAT DAMNED “JANET”!!!! WHO KNEW (THATTHIS BITCH WAS THIS CRAZY!?)…UH…DON’T ASK…AND DON’T WRITE BACK.
DELETE THIS AS SOON AS YOU ARE DONE READING IT!” Well actually Denise had called me one other time (that same July 4th Sunday when my friend Tia called with her spiritual warning), and just like I did to Tia; I rushed Denise off of thephone because I didn’t know if Janet could listen in [on my calls that were then transferred to mynewly purchased cell phone]. Now, here it was now August; seven + one month later since Italked to + sent that brief and cryptic email to Denise; and this time, she was not going to let meoff again after all these months having gone by without my following up and filling her in onwhat was going on. Little did she know-a whole lot of things had happened since I sent her thatemail, she couldn’t even imagine. I had done a great job of keeping her at bay from all theconfusion and upset that everybody within arms reach of me had gone through.
Janet was already a lot-a big presence and force in my life to deal with, but keeping my friends who lived out of town at bay would feel like that scene out of the original Supermanmovie where the world was earthquaking, Tsunami’ing, hurricaning (and every other naturaldisaster). Superman was going around the world saving random people, then flying in reverseover the globe in an effort to seal all cracks and lift all cement. But this time Denise refused to bereleased from the telephone. She was home from being on tour and wanted details: stat! I toldher I would call her back before the end of the day was up.
I didn’t call her right back like I said I would, because I knew if Janet could somehow listen in to my transferred calls to my cell phone, I was more than sure Denise’s line would havebeen tapped for sure (because she was one of my more closer friends). Instead, I wrote Denise ashort letter; briefing her about the situation and assured her that I was okay, but that the situationI briefed her on [in that cryptic email back in January] had gone from that level to much betterwith some ups and downs, because still (just like I said in the January email) Janet is a lil’ crazy.
That part didn’t change-it was what it was in that regard but we were chums otherwise.
I hurriedly dropped the letter in snail mailbox by the end of that Sunday, July 4th day.
Denise tried her luck again that Friday, August 20th, because I never got back with her even after sending the letter. She felt like she could talk to me since Janet was scheduled to appear at the Source Awards. Interestingly, (in the email or the letter) I never mentioned anything about myphone being tapped because I wasn’t expecting to hear from her until she made it back home (toour city) when she got off tour, but instead, she decided to stay back at her home (in New York).
So on August 20th when she called (just like I did on July 4th when she called) said to her: “I will call you back.” But this time, I promised. I felt so stupid-like a weirdo at this point. Isure as hell didn’t want my friend to think I had gone bonkers, having emailed her talking aboutbeing shitted on by “Janet Jackson” and now every time she called my house-like a weirdo-I wasducking, whispering, and sneaking to use my own phone. I really wanted to talk to her so bad.
She was off tour, and had been so upset that we hadn’t been in touch and so was I.
Desperate for a telephone to use, I asked my next-door neighbor if I could use his cordless phone while out on the porch. I called her on my calling card and we talked for a while.
She told me that she was so upset and knew that something funky was going on after reading theJanuary email and her call to me on July 4th confirmed it. She said when she received the letter insnail mail, she desperately wanted to talk.
“Now I call you again, and you tell me once again, that you are going to call me back and then you call me back from your next-door neighbors phone?” she said-confused.
“What.What did you gather?” I asked her.
“Well, it seems to me like y’all got some shit goin’ on-like heffa got you under wraps or y’all got each other’s noses open or something. I do know however, that I have never known you tobe this way, so I knew she must have some kind of hold on you. After I just got off the phonewith you and you said you would call me back, I thought she must be over your house or yourphone must be tapped-one of the two. Then when I thought about how Lauryn Hill is scheduledto come up to this studio at eleven tonight-here in Jersey, that made me know that the SourceAwards on television tonight must not be live like I thought it was. So that told me that either:your phone must be tapped, you were talking to her, or she was near you. I thought I could getsome conversation out of you thinking that she was at the awards but I see I was wrong!” Welaughed. She couldn’t imagine how grateful I was to have a thinking friend around me who coulduse their mind-listen to what I was saying (regardless how strange my tips and tidbits may haveseemed), and make sense of what seemed senseless [for the sake of us-as friends] rather thanarguing or getting upset over chaos that I had no control over. Denise was refreshing. The ironyof that is that (especially without her being in arms reach of me) with no details in detail (like afew who were in arms reach had), Denise used her mind. Although 7 + 1 month had passed thatwhile she was on tour; she still gave me time to get to her, while using their mind instead ofrunning off and gossiping about me and my strange situation with a superstar.
In this thing, that’s all I could have around me: people who used their heads, because all else caused way too much confusion. And what others didn’t understand (or neglected to usetheir heads to try and understand) eventually made them go off and gossip and cause myself, andme with them-more problems (rather than to sit tight like Denise did).
She did have one question (that in a million years, she could never understand): “How is it that Janet is supposed to love you so much, but you gotta be talking to your friends from otherphones and shit? What’s with all this phone shit? She doesn’t know you like she think she doesbecause if she did, she would know how you are when you care about somebody and how loyalyou are as a friend or lover or whatever. What is her problem? Did you tell her your friend Denisedoes not get down like that!? Girl she is crazy!” In twenty minutes time while sitting on the steps of my side of our two-family house with my forehead sitting in my lap, I finally got a chance to brief Denise about it all until my next-door neighbor stepped out on our porch to tell me he was about to leave out for the evening. Itold her to just call me at my house and we would talk-fuck it.
She did.
We talked around the situation. Denise said she was confused because my cryptic email (sent in January) communicated: “Guess who I met and found out that the bitch was crazy!” then myhandwritten letter I sent in July communicated: “Oh it’s a bit crazy but I love her and she loves me. Somuch bad and good has happened since January, now it’s July-she still does some things I don’t like and agreewith but other than that, everything’s perfect.” Denise said the letter made her think that Janet had my nose: wide open but eyes wide- shut: shut. She was one of my besties for like-sixteen/seventeen years, so with her, I told her thetruth about how I felt (outside of the other things I felt were unnecessary) but I was trying to bepatient and understanding (only being considerate of who she was).
To that, Denise replied seriously: “Ok, so in hearing that, I just have to know how much of this has to do with the fact that she is “Janet Jackson” you know, because of course you havealways liked her “The Janet Jackson superstar/performer” so Angie, I’m just curious if what youare going through and allowing is because she is “Janet” or do you really like her like she likes you-period. Because all these provisions and excuses you are making for her-the way she is rearrangingyour life and other relationships with people and shit…it’s really a trip. So what is it?” I replied: “No Denise, the excitement of the “Janet” part was done and over with way back after January girl. Trust me on that. It’s just about me and her-the real her. We’ve had somuch stuff going on outside of the fact that she is “Janet Jackson the superstar/performer” thatmy mind has like…totally drawn a blank on that “Janet.” Her private personality is way thickerthan I ever imagined, and the antithesis of what I thought about “Janet Jackson the superstar/performer.” “So you’re past being intimidated by her?” asked Denise.
“Well, not fully. I can admit that, simply because she has a lot of facets to her personality.
Believe it or not, it flip-flops. Sometimes she is intimidated about some things about me and mypersonality, but then I still am about some things about her personality as well. So it kind ofbalances it out. I’ve talked to her badly. She’s talked to me badly. We have unheard of-viciousfights, and when we call ourselves in love, we cuddle just as hard and take up each other’s time alldamned day and night that’s she able to. It’s weird. Sometimes we’re like best friends who’veknown each other for years. Other times we’re like sisters who love each other. Then we’re likesisters who hate each other. Then we’re like two people who crazy love each other. Then twopeople who hate each other that have vicious fights only to break up to make up. It’s really crazy. Idunno.” I explained.
“But the craziness though, why? Like…how long is that gonna go on? That shouldn’t “Despite the many things she’s taken me through, I care too much for her to let her go (she aint going nowhere anyways, we’ve been there-done that). Although what she does isn’t rightor “normal” to you and anybody else-for her it is. And I understand it, even what I hate about it-it doesn’t make me agree. It’s kind of hard trying to make her undo all that she has had go herway for all these years and sometimes it does go too far. That’s when all hell breaks loose. Don’tlaugh, but that is the only way I can explain it to you” I said.
“I understand. It does seem weird. It’s almost like destiny or something-like y’all were destined to meet at some point in this lifetime-for whatever reason.
I mean the whole thing with meeting her boyfriend years ago, then how things happened with y’all at her concert last September and now to this stuff. It just seems weird.
Something made this thing happen for a reason. It’s been too magnetic and cryptic, positive-negative, push-pull, twist-turn,” said Denise.
Until we began to doze off, we sat around and talked while Denise was watching the awards from New York, and I was watching from home. When she saw Janet she yelled:“Omigod. Omigod. Omigod!” she caught herself, then paused-watching Janet as she jokinglysmiled at the camera as if she was new to television-the both of us didn’t say a word.
“Angie…” she said quickly, as if she was about to ask a question but stopped there.
I just sat there staring at the same person on my screen as was Denise.
“Angie,” Denise laughed and mentioned sneakily and coyly:“Um, too bad she aint a man, y’all would make some pra-eeeetty babies…”I blushed. We giggled and then laughed out loud.
(Denise had to remember that she was being listened to, or recorded by Janet and her buddies. Either way, she would be heard now or later. She knew this)… “Are you wearing your natural hair color or are you still dying it black?” asked Denise.
“No I’m wearing my natural color. I was considering getting a few strands of highlightin it, maybe soon, why?” I inquired.
Denise just got quiet. I already knew what she was thinking. She wanted to mention how much we looked alike that night-from head to toe (just like I was thinking). And we did.
That was really my first time being able to see her “new hairstyle” that had been the talk of theroom since back in July. The energy she gave off made Denise react (as did I), but I played it cool.
I already knew how deliberate and methodical Janet was-Denise didn’t, and wasn’t briefed on thatpart about Janet (she wouldn’t have understood anyways).
I could just feel Janet bring her ear closer to her headpiece to listen to us, so I pretty much tried to talk over what it was she was saying on the [previously recorded] television showwhile she picked up her award with Busta. I tried to drown Denise out as well, because I didn’twant her to say what was on her mind (and what I was thinking).
Considering all the questions in Denise’s mind that she finally got answered, and now looking at her television screen at Janet; I knew her looking at Janet this day was in a muchdifferent way than she never looked at her. Because she’s been my friend of seventeen years andnow knowing about myself and Janet, Janet’s aura completely held her attention in a way that noone else in that audience or the millions watching, would ever understand-just Janet and herbuddies and me and my friend understood Janet that night.
While sitting there looking at Janet, I thought about how (during some days before the day of the Source Awards taping) the nickname: “EnBlaque” would come down in chat,mentioning how she had a new hairstyle and a “to-die-for” tan that was like “a honey chocolatecolor.” EnBlaque would always say: “<munch>” to me when we would speak in the room.
I remember when EnBlaque made the comment about the to-die-for tan, I said: “Well, EnBlaque, with a “honey chocolate tan” you sound like you are the one to munch on…” “What did you say Cin?” she responded.
“I said you sound like the one to munch on (with a “honey chocolate” tan) that’s all…” I While looking at the television at Janet’s new honey blonde hair color…her to-die-for honey chocolate colored tan…her new hairstyle-sitting right there in mine and Denise’s face fromtwo different sides of the world, she was looking like a spitting image of me: my same hair color,the same way that I wear my hair up in a ponytail, and a tan that matched my skin color. To thepeople around her, she probably looked like her normal smiling self with a new look. In Janet’svirtual world (with her buddies) and in my real/virtual world we all knew what was really goingon, and that too, was something Denise or anybody else would not be able to understand… Janet is smart. And she will always be one step ahead of you because of her persona, and her smile will have you under a totally different impression (or spell) of her. The funny thingabout Janet is that if you never get a piece of her bad side in that you’ve never been the recipient ofher bad side (personally/intimately); you will never get to know her, you will only get her personaand her smile-and you won’t get past that.
To deal with Janet, if she let’s you in, you have to be as detailed in your thinking as she is methodical (and deliberate). My knowing her inner person and her outer persona at this momentin time sent my mind through a time warp of sorts. Because unlike back in May, when sheattended the World Music Awards, this time (by this August 20th day), I had been the recipient ofher “bad side” too; many-a-day.
Before May, she had only done “bad things” (like all their January through March shenanigans-aggressively commandeering my computer and my files to learn any and everythingshe could about me). I had nothing to hide, and although I didn’t appreciate it, considering whoshe was, I accepted it and understood her barbaric technological approach-there was nothing Icould do about it anyways. But when she came from behind her shenanigans, she was all-good tome March, April, and May. And I hadn’t seen her face in a while (since May). Those months intoMay through June, she was head over heels in love with a lot about me: my friendship with her,my attentiveness to her, and my kindness with her. But most of all (and too, why I gave all thosethings to her) was that she was openly, unabashed, unashamed, and interested in knowing mejust as much as she was head over heels in love with those things about me, and if not-more. Sofor that, she scored, but…she knew how to play-that was her bad side. Off and on between themonths of July and August, I lost track of how much of her bad side I had gotten, so seeing herthis August day I could finally see her “two sides” in public that other people could not see(unless you were me). They only knew of one.
Watching her took my mind through somewhat a series of colorful tie-dyed psychedelic circles and hues because this first moment in time I was able to see her many colors while aroundother people.
I kept staring, and as the noise from the crowd continued; she smiled as if she was nothing like the person she would show me when she would get upset, evil, controlling, anddeliberately mean. I know her inner person and outer persona and I could finally see both fromthe comfort of my own home.
She was standing there looking delicate and harmless as only a socially poised person (like her) could do. Her smile could never show you the mean or bad side of her. It was so weird,because looking at her in the way I was seeing her on television at that moment would have nevergiven me a clue as to what she was capable of, the extremes she would go to get what ever she wanted, or her extremes-period.
As I stared, I looked at what she wore-the color and style of her dress: the frame of the dress was black; reflecting the dark side of herself. The most visible part of the dress was goldwith multi-colors in it. It shined brightly; sitting at a place where the good in one would belocated: the chest area. Was she trying to show that gold was really what her heart was made of?I’ve seen both, and by this very August day, I had experienced both: her golden and multi-colorfulself as well as her black self. I knew she couldn’t wait to get back home.
As I watched her, I started thinking about the other picture I saw of her (sometime between the months of January-March) in the center of Jet magazine wearing all black. She wasstanding there with her hands behind her back like she was holding a secret in her hands. She alsowore a tightly closed smile-trying not to let the world see what she had going on back home: herbarbaric technological shenanigans, plots and plans, a room filled with many fans, while herdigerati was working the control room; commandeering my computer files and wreaking havoc inmy life. So as I watched her on this August day but thinking about that magazine picture; Iimagined how [with her lips folded tightly and her hands behind her back] she couldn’t wait to getback home (to her secret).
Two days later, I guess she felt it was time to remove her mask-she and all involved.
Sunday August 22nd, I was lurking in the room but watching television in my own virtual world.
All of a sudden the nickname “Bravo19” came in.
Bravo had asked me about a week before this particular day, if (he/she) could personally introduce (him/her self) to me each time (he/she) came into the room and I simply responded:“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind,” but didn’t think anything of it. I guess they wanted me to merelyremark and bookmark the nickname in my head [for this day].
Well, after “Bravo19” came in, crazy “Brie” IM’ed me, telling me that she was making one of her famous parfaits while she talked about school and Emeril Lagasse and such. (Ofcourse Janet revealed herself from behind “Brie” ions ago which too, was the last time we talkedunder her “Brie” nickname) so I was trying to figure out what was going on-because I knewsomething was about to happen-some kind of new reveal, because she hadn’t used “Brie” in likeforever.
The next nicknames (one after the other) came in-like roll call:
Welcome New User {LittleBit}: authorized
I said aloud to myself: “Ok, that’s Shawn. I already know that.”
Next to come down:
Welcome New User {Drama}: authorized
I said aloud to myself again: “Ok that’s Shawn’s other nickname, too. I already know
Meanwhile, in IM off to the side with me, “Brie” logged out without saying goodbye, then “Dunk” (Janet’s real/public nickname) traded places with “Brie” and came down in theroom: Welcome New User {Dunk}: authorized
…I knew for sure something was about to go down now.
Next to come down: Welcome New User {Rix}: authorized
I said aloud to myself: “Ok, that’s Rix-Janet’s digerati king. I already know that, now
Next to come down:
Welcome New User {LV}: authorized
I said aloud to myself, again: “Ok, that’s Louisa-Janet’s digerati queen. I already know
Next to come down:
Welcome New User {Lissa}: authorized
I said aloud to myself, again: “Ok, that’s LissFOSD (a.k.a Falling off Slippery Dicks) I
already knew she was in on this with Janet’s Team but still, what the fucks going on?” Iwondered.
(If they could have, they would have dropped Poet/Lauren) name down but of course, For me, it only confirmed, for sure, that Lissa was a part of this setup just like I always thought, because there had also been comments about her wearing Janet’s “Pleasure Principle” hairwrap style-like Janet’s hairstyle in the video. Talk was about how she was Janet’s niece or somerelative of hers and how much she looked like her and all. I had also gathered she was an Ariesborn on or around April 17. I sat there and watched them all line up on this screen in cyber worldlooking as if they were 6 of the 12 constellations in alignment.
I started to post: “*Clappppp!!!, okay now I get it! ‘Bravo19’, is this why (a week ago) you asked if you could speak to me next time you came in? Ok, some kind of reveal is going on-but why?” I only thought to post that in my head because everybody just sat there quiet. It was fucking weird. I was wondering if Rix was about to fuck with my computer again. I was about toget mad at first, because I just didn’t know what to make of all of them coming down frombehind their countless other nicknames that we’d talk under-and with Janet in tow under her real/public nickname (all at once)…it was like everybody who was behind the good and bad timeswanted to come down and make their presence known under all their real/public nicknames.
I broke the ice and posted:“Oh my gosh, let me hold on to my computer!”All of a sudden, the nickname “DigiTEK” came down.
(I remembered that name floating around the room since my meeting “Bravo19” a short DigiTEK responded: “So funny how one could admit that they got played…”I just sat there, knowing DigiTEK’s comment couldn’t have been because they thought all this time I didn’t know that all six of those “authorized” people were the ones behind the
many insulting nicknames on the bad days, during the bad times. We all knew that, so I didn’t
respond, I just let “DigiTEK” have that one. I kept quiet because I thought back to the night
when I was in the room with them for a second when Janet was gone to the Source Awards that
night. “DigiTEK” had made his entrance claiming to be a hacker, sending down language that
looked something like this:
£ëä;êbð°zëDv,J:ì^µ8‰ÃDisÒ9iߦ•¥~Õ6ÃDcÔ ¯ÅÊ?¨´‘’GMíÝ $Íìº/
That day, I knew now for sure that “DigiTEK” was a part of her hired help but was only there playing around trying to be funny. I just sat there with my brows up wondering whatthe hell was going on and what they were going to do next. We sat there trying to outstare oneanother. They won, because I just logged out and went to bed. I wasn’t taking any chances. I wasall too used to Rix doing magic on my computer and this time, I wasn’t having it.
The next evening I came in. She wasted no time.
“SAVVY” came down and stared, licking her lips slowly and seductively. I knew this was the seductress herself: that damned Janet. I shook my head and laughed to myself. She loved toget sexy and play. And it had been a while since we did. She took a seat and placed her elbows ontop of her legs-resting her head in the palm of her hands. A conversation was going on about theInternet and computers so I dropped down a quote for old-times sake: “If you embrace technology but do it blindly, you may find less freedom, not more…”
The SAVVY one got up and walked over to me and spoke:
“Cinamon, hello Cinamon. How are you?”
“Fine,” I said.
“I know,” she responded.
“LOL” I giggled. She didn’t laugh out loud, giggle, nor crack a smile. I knew then that
she was *W and ready.
“I love how you so eloquently posted that quote,” she said.
“Gee thanks, it is so very true,” I returned.
(She didn’t respond. She posted something for me in French that ended with somethinglike “je suis amouravec toi.” I laughed and posted): “Alls I know is that “avec toi”means: ‘with you!’ meaning: “Me!” What now with me?” (She still didn’t laugh, giggle, nor crack a smile). She replied: “Cinamon. You are soooo very clever. You’ve played the game so well.”“Clever eh?” I replied.
“Yes…very…I mean it…I love it…I’ve never in my life been sooo…sooo….romantic inhere…” she said.
“Oh, in here? LoL” I responded, feeling like I had been the “lucky” (victim?).
She still wouldn’t laugh out loud, giggle, nor crack a smile.
“I.M me,” she said.
(I didn’t respond, because I assumed she wanted me to take my pick on which I.Mnickname to use. She was reaching in her bag o’tricks and pulled one out for me) *drum roll*…ta daaaaaaa!!!!:
FEMMEHOUND…” she posted in caps and in bold letters.
My eyes stretched like a kid on Christmas morning:“Dayyyyuuuum,” I said (to myself).
“Do it NOW…” she demanded. I could tell she wasn’t going to let me get away thistime.
We went off to the side to whisper to each other in I.M.
“I want you Cinamon. I want all of you,” she said, immediately.
She paused then responded: “Let’s see, right after Labor Day, because I’ll be totally freeafter then.” “September 6…anytime after then, because I have to fly to Hawaii,” she said.
I just shook my head at this maniac and said:“Oh okay that’s cool, because after the 29th of August I’m real free until almost the endof September, but you know anytime is time for you…LoL” She still didn’t laugh, giggle nor crack a smile.
“I want you,” she reiterated and posted in bold.
“You can have me…do whatever-I’m yours. I won’t fight this anymore,” I replied.
“*Sticking my tongue ring out.” she said.
“Okay, I’m about to go!” I responded, because she was trying to flip the game-she knewI hated that.
“No, no…okay…I understand. LoL” she said.
I didn’t laugh… “Ok I understand,” she reiterated.
“I’m telling you now…” I warned her-so as to let her know that I was going to log offif she couldn’t trust me.
We had been through this time and time again despite the fact we all knew Janet and me were both on some Mr.-and-Mrs.-Smith-we-love-one-another-but-we’re-on assignment-and-on-guard-to-kill-one-another-at-any-moment type shit.
Me: With the chronology of which they were in possession of the first 13 pages while watching me complete. She and her digerati: Ready to detonate upon infiltration and come outleaving no traces of stains-prepared to drop like bleach.
“I know,” she said…with her shoulders up, trying hard not to piss me off again.
“You wanna know what I look like?” she asked.
I didn’t respond because I knew she only threw that out there to prepare to “un- describe” herself for this I.M conversation’s record. It was crazy how she wanted to keep talkingand get us together but still playing everything like obviously playing with fire. If you’re in you’rein, if you’re out you’re out. These were the kinds of things that kept me away from her andtreating her badly. “If I give up totally on record, you have to, too. I’m just as important as youbitch,” was my thinking (and expressing).
She dropped the description:“I got long ass hair, about 3/4th’s Caucasian, but I look more black. I have light eyes I replied by throwing this out there:“Oh. Like Janet in the “Everytime” video huh?I dared her ass to reject that and switch up on me.
She didn’t, but she was in no mood to play around either.
She and I were like a sweet poison to one another-like some strange concoction developed in a lab by some mad scientist who hadn’t completed the potion and because of, everytime it was mixed, it would combust-that was us. It was crazy. We needed to get this fuck off ourchest or we were going to explode-both of us. I never experienced anything like this-this sexualangst (she hadn’t either). It was very scary for the both of us.
She was ready to get this showdown locked in before yet another fight would start. It seemed inevitable, and we tried hard to avoid our fights-because we really wanted one another badly.
But it was like this strong shaking magnetic force bringing us together yet, this other force wouldkeep wiggling us apart: My intimidation versus her paranoia. I could always handle her in ournormal conversations-even when we were romantic and nonsexual. She seemed to be intimated byme when we would talk about life-and regular subjects-regular conversation, she was always afraidthat she sounded stupid, and I would have to peel her apart gently-relax.
We could meet in the middle when we would talk romantic and nonsexual, or when But she had a way about her when she would get into another kind of sexual “her”—it was like a whole other person, she could be verrrryyyyy intimidating…like in this conversation-thiswas one of those times. It was like reverse, where, she would have to peel me apart to get me torelax.
She continued: “*Looking at U. So shall I fly down? Do you live in a house or apartment?” asked the “*Deep sigh. Looking at u…” I replied, with my brow up-knowing that she already knew everything: where I lived, my dwelling, and all that. I was ready to start the fight and sheknew my brow was raised.
“LOL!” she said.
“I’m just kidding. I’ll fly you out here. I have a big house in the hills of California…” I responded: “I need complete privacy in order to work my special brand of magic…” “I’m definitely going to give you that…” she promised.
“No, not even the raccoons,” she assured me.
“ No one can hear me?” I asked, coyly.
“No one, I promise,” she assured me. I knew she was getting aroused. She was such asexual maniac.
“No one can smell…while you follow the trail…to wet tail…Femmehound?” I askedseductively with my one brow up.
“Oh Cinamon, you turn me on so…” she gasped seductively, yearning as if she hadstomped her foot like a spoiled child.
“I want your everything,” she demanded.
“I want to have you on the beach, in the park, in the car. I want strawberries, honey,whipped cream. I want it outside, anywhere anytime…anyplace.I want spontaneity. Iwant intimacy from you. I want everything,” she demanded, with her brow up-SERIOUSLY.
“Greedy is an understatement,” I thought to myself about this self-confessed greedy,lusty, and selfish woman. If she were a line out of a song it would be: I’ve been hurting fora long time. And you’ve been playing for a long time. You know it’s true. I’ve been holding for a longtime. And you’ve been running for a long time. It’s time to do. Oh what we have to do / She says herlove is much too deep for what her lover hasn’t heard. But what she doesn’t realize is that I’ve listenedto every word. That’s why I’m gonna tell her that I love her. And I want her. And my mind and souland body needs her. Tell her that I’d love to. And I want to. And I need to do all that I have to, to bein her love,” because I thought about the contents of Denise’s and my conversation onthe phone that Friday August 20th night again. I had told her that kissing was moreintimate to me than oral sex. I told her that I could count on my hands how may peopleI had kissed in my life-kissing was special to me. Especially passionate, deep, open-mouth kissing-that is for real love. She had also been briefed on how I feel aboutspontaneity, and how it had to be earned with me. She felt like she had already earned itand wanted it all. She knew just what to say in this cybersexion as if she pre-planned itwith a checklist. I imagined her stating her list of things she was going to take from mewhile she looked at me as if I’d better not buck, which is what I knew she meant when this lustful, selfish and greedy woman said: “I want you. I want everything.” I already knew that she is the type who would see to it that I not hold back on nothing that she hadhunted and gathered, or read or heard me say was off limits; she knew she would be the exceptionto all rules: mentally, emotionally and sexually just as she had been since day one. And she wasdouble-checking to make sure on this day; she still had it like that with me. She’s methodical andpremeditated like that-in every way. She does not play. She is a mechanical human being abouteverything. She pays attention to everything. I thought about the time in the room we were talkingsexual third person, and I said: “Me and my woman are gonna fuck so hard that the world isgonna feel it.” I knew at this moment she was ready for me to put my body where my mouthwas. So this maniac femmehound made that list, checked it twice, trying to find out if I was goingto be naughty or nice-making sure I backed up everything I had ever said ( + what she“overheard”).
“I’m aggressive in the bedroom and I want passion, I want all your passion…” shegripped.
I posted lyrics from one of my favorite classics: “Back and forth, raging scenes of lust I wantyou madly can’t you tell? Can’t you tell? Can’t you tell? Oh, take me in your arms oh baby. If thecrime was death I’d rather die, here in your, screams of passion…” “I know that you are hard to please, but I’m gon’ work you…” she said confidently andslowly. I know she folded and bit her lips when she said that-I know her well.
“No, it’s just a front. Trust me. I’m easy to please. I’m relaxed and easily stimulated. Youalready know how to get me started…LoL.” I replied.
“Oh my gosh, I’m getting so wet now thinking about it. I know you are wet right nowaren’t you?” she asked. “Oh Yes,” I replied.
“Touch it for me” she instructed.
“*Touching it…smelling it. It smells so good.” I responded.
“I know it does, ooh you turn me on so,” she said-yearning.
“Oooh you turn me onnn. You do everything that brings out the fire in me, like Ifantasize about,” I confessed.
“I’d taste it for you, in the heat of a moment as we kiss,” I said.
“And then I’m gonna put my tongue down your throat” she said, knowing (from“overhearing”) mine and Denise’s conversation where I told Denise how I feel aboutkissing being more intimate than oral sex. This maniac wanted to make sure she hadpermission to take everything I felt was sacred. She did not want to be left out.
“In the moment-you can,” I returned-to assure her.
“I’m gonna put my tongue down your throat and you’re gonna sit on my face right?”she “Yes, in the heat of the moment,” I gulped, she caught me by surprise.
“I got nine and a half inches of strap for you…” she bragged (again).
“You gon’ work it?” I asked, softly and seductively.
“Hell yeah…we’re gonna marothon fuck,” she said-confidently. “You know what thatis?” she asked.
She got intimidated: “Thanks for correcting my spelling,” she said, as if I was about tospoil the mood.
“No, no, no, no, I wasn’t trying to be funny. What is it though, is what I’m asking?” Ireplied-feeling way too aroused to have the mood spoiled.
“Non-stop fucking. It’s better than the best work out you could ever have,” she said.
“I think I can work with that. *opening my legs to let you watch insertion. Moaningslowly-every inch in. Do you want me to stretch my legs wide open or wrap them aroundyou to grip you tight?” I asked.
“Ah grip me tight, grip me tight,” she breathed hard and said.
“I want you to see it and hear it talk to you…If you hit my spot…oooh…I bet you Iwet you,” I whispered shyly.
“Oh I’m gonna find it,” she challenged-confidently.
Her sexual confidence was unmatched, I must say. It had been a quite a few weeks sincewe had a cybersexsion and I was noticing she had been brushing up on her alreadypotent sexual skills so I was feeling a little intimidated at this point but I was hanging inthere and ready for her ass: “You like manual stimulation?” she asked.
“Yes, you gon’ be doing it while you’re inside of me? It’s gon’ be slipping and sliding.
You gon’ try to hold on to my clit while you play with it?” I asked.
“I’m gonna find your spot. I know I can…” she said with extra confidence-preparing her mission in her head-most probably remembering all too well; the nudies and all the close upvaginal shots she got from me by merely asking for them. I loved her. So I did it. And it made herso happy-and us closer. I could see the picture in her mind-I know her. She could see getting tomy spot like x-ray vision through the phone but until she got a hold of me, the pictures wouldhave to do. In the middle of our moment, I didn’t tell her, but only one person could make that happen to me-and I thought he was magic for it too. I didn’t want her to feel too
challenged in a “slim to none” kind of way, I wanted her just like she was: challenged in a “readyto go” kind of way. So I kept that secret. It added to my excitement, my anticipation-thosebutterflies in my stomach traveling down to my cooter knob making it throb. I couldn’t wait. Iloved her sexual arrogance. I knew if she was going to be any good at finding my spot; that wouldmake her a motherfucking magician. And we were already magic… “Okay, when you do, you’ll know. It will skeet right out on you…” I replied.
“You promise?” she asked-seductively.
“While you’re fucking me, I want to you hold me down by my waist and stomach so Icant move, then I want you to fuck me harder and harder like you just don’t care. Youknow I like it hard, but grind it like you mean business.” Just hurt me ‘til it feels good,”I asked.
“Ooooh. I’m gonna do it too. I’m strong. Real strong and fit. Very fit…LoL,” she said(bragging).
“Oooh I’m loving you,” I confessed and stressed in bold-something I hadn’t told her
in a long time.
“You had better not try to move cause I’m gonna get the cuffs out on you,” she saidsadistically-planning and preparing me for some S&M.
“PROMISE” she confirmed (in caps-meaning that shit).
Now down to business.
She demanded to know some concrete answers no, she needed a (one) concrete answer:WHEN.
“Alright then, when?” she stressed in bold letters.
She wasn’t having no games this time.
“Well, with you…we will have to cross that bridge when we get to it around the 6th…”…I said, knowing how crazy we could be fighting in like hours or a day after getting mecomfortable. It was insane how that would happen, and mostly because of her buddiesarousing too much unnecessary suspicion. If Mrs. Smith sat her gun down, I droppedmine. When she picked hers up-well, so did I. It was the name of the game.
“LoL… I’m serious. Real serious,” she stressed in bold.
“I need to know if you are you ready for this?” she questioned-sealing the deal to end allbullshit, mine and hers.
“Yes, yes, I am-real ready,” I assured her-seriously.
“Okay…” she confirmed with ellipsis and her brows up as if to say: “don’t play withme” “I’m soooo embarrassed. I aint never coming back to the room,” I said to her; thinkingabout how everybody was probably reading on for old times sake. I already know theywere watching.
“No, don’t do that, why silly?” she asked.
We just laughed…then she stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and paused as if tolook me in the eyes (seriously) once again. She wanted to double-check: “I don’t want my heart splattered all over the floor…” she warned-vulnerably.
I responded (seriously):
She then disconnected from me.
I went over to the room and sat for a few minutes. I didn’t say anything to anybody.
Nobody said anything to me. It was very quiet and still. I just waited on her to come there or backin I.M.
No sign of her, so I told her team that I was going to go to bed because I was very The next day (August 24th) I didn’t come in until almost four in the afternoon. What the hell did I wait that long to talk to her for? My goodness that was a federal crime, especially afterlast night.
I had lots to do the next day but I was both nervous to talk to her and rushing to start We seemed to be at a different level after last night. I was happy as hell but nervous too.
I just needed to finish my day and then talk to her afterwards. I knew if I talked to her first(especially after last night) she would take over my mind for the whole day. I needed a clear head.
At any rate, back in the room, “SAVVY” got her chime telling her I was there. She came I spoke to her and though she spoke back, she gave me a weird feeling:“What happened to you last night girl?” she stressed and italicized.
“Why did you leave? I had gotten disconnected, but I came back in looking for you.
Where did you go?” she demanded to know like the bully she was. I could feel her tyranny coming “Well actually I thought that was your sign.(that you had to leave). I went over to the chat room to see if you were there. I made mention that I was sleepy and was going to go right tobed. I was sooooooooo sleepy. It was almost 11:30, you know I don’t mind talking dirty but I was soooooosleepy…LoL” I sang my rendition of Ginuine’s “So Anxious.” She knew I loved that song and had been playing it a lot. She did not give a damn right now though, she was pissed. She didn’t laugh
with me, nor was she in any mood for *Wickedness at least not that kind:
“Yeah, LoL. Um Cin did I meet you in here Thursday or Friday of last week?” asked this savvy one-playing games again (knowing I would be getting pissed off in 1-2-3)… I knew some kind of shit was about to start.
She only came down as “SAVVY” to remind me of the previous day when she first came down as “SAVVY” (then sent me to meet her over in I.M under “FEMMEHOUND” and wesolidified everything). But instead, she was ready to fight under SAVVY-to hell with“FEMMEHOUND” today. I could feel her anger. I knew yesterday her goal was for us to seal thedeal on this thing we had and needed to make sure I was really this time. She knew all this time Ireally was ready and serious-but I could tell now, this time for different for her than all the timesbefore.
In all these months for most of all the seven days, yes, we talked at the start of every day- no matter what I had to do. She was always available (because she was mobile-I wasn’t). There havebeen a few times-just a literal few-when I left the house in the mornings and carried on with myday, then got back with her in the afternoon and it wasn’t a problem. But this time—noooooo shewasn’t having it.
When she had gotten disconnected, and I really did think she was told to purposely disconnect from me. She wasn’t trying to hear that though. We were back to the drawing board yetagain…ugh. She was wayyyy too interested and equally wayyy to paranoid. It was crazy-too muchover caution where (understandably) our communication had to be on her turf where they couldcontrol things, versus mobile (on my end), but my life sometimes did not permit me to tend tothat (and a very few sometimes I might add). I typically always cooperated and made time for herand always her under her terms and time zones-from wherever she would be in or out of thestates, always. None of that mattered this day. Today was a different. She treated it like I pulled acomplete disappearing act on purpose.
Next, the nickname “DAPEACOCK” came down and posted: “((((bigmoufgirl)))).”I knew it was Lissa because she always made up names like “alotavagina”-stuff like that to post right after Janet and I would cyberfuck. This time, “Dapeacock” was a silly name for adescription of the way I spoke about opening my legs to accommodate SAVVY theFEMMEHOUND when we cyberfucked the previous night. I also looked at what she postedwithin the hug: “((((bigmoufgirl))))” and figured they thought I flew out the door and went andtold somebody as soon as I logged off. I tried explaining to her how I simply went to sleep, Iwent straight to sleep-that’s it. I then listed what I did throughout that next day to explain why Ihadn’t come back until four in the afternoon knowing that for her, the time between 11:30 p.m.
(when we got disconnected) and 4 p.m. the next day (when I returned) was far too long for any good explanation I could give her. It just didn’t fly with her, so she continued on-trying to find a way out of her “SAVVY” birthday suit. This femme hound gave two shits abouthounding the femme in me at this point. Mrs. Smith picked her gun back up: “So are you going to tell me when was the very first time I said anything to you? Was it last Thursday or Friday?” she asked-needing to get this conversation on record (for some reasonof theirs).
I was shaking my head. I knew that regardless what day I picked, she was going say something stupid, for fear that I had been doing something sneaky like they obviously thought.
When I mentioned Thursday, she said: “Oh yeah, well I had the wrong person. The person I met named Cinamon was on I shook my head some more and sarcastically said:“Yeah well it was me then, because we did chat on Friday too Hun.”“Well, I have the wrong person, bye…” she said.
She rushed out.
I think when she got disconnected from me in I.M the previous night; it must have frozen everything on their end-even in the room. Call it that good omen miracle or a strategicmole on her team having done it on purpose (to help me?), but I definitely wasn’t supposed to geta hold of this I.M conversation. This particular time was one of the “ghost-like” moments (likethat TRL/Carson/”Angela” incident that sent that jolt to Janet; making her react-scaring her-wondering if I was the “Angela” pulled from the audience on route upstairs to greet her)-wherelike throughout this situation, things like that would make me feel like I scored…like I gainedsome ground in this, by being able to have in my possession (for my truth and chronicle-turned-book), the information like this or (like the TRL incident) a public display right in front of myeyes-all orchestrated by that higher power nudging me to let me know that there would be an endand a light to the end of this lonnggg dark tunnel, no matter how long it takes.
When we got disconnected I did find it odd that her buddies’ (nicknames) were all there but not one single conversation was going on when I entered. No one said anything to me when Icame in. No one said anything to me when I told them I was going to go to bed. And no onesaid anything to me when I was leaving. That was well over enough time for me to save mine andJanet’s “FEMMEHOUND” I.M conversation but what else was new? They knew I was going tosave it if something weird happened-any kink would make me clink and I would save it to the“bullshit” disc.
Little did she and they know, had that sudden disconnect not have happened and we would have exited the conversation normally, I would not have saved the conversation. Therehave been plenty of conversations that I would not save when she and I would be on sweet terms.
I would purposely try and show her that I was letting my guard down-to show her (and them) thatI was trying to make this thing go right. The “FEMMEHOUND” conversation too, would havebeen one of those same unsaved conversations had she not disconnected so suddenly. By thistime, I was programmed for auto-fuckery. Kinks like that would send me right into action (just incase).
All things considered and having happened, they knew the “FEMMEHOUND” conversation was too obvious, and too “Janet and me.” They knew I saved that one, so they triedto get her to pull out of the whole Savvy/Femmehound name altogether because I guess whileRix was probably trying to do his thing-I was probably supposed to get kick out and disconnected too, but my computer stayed on-Janet and all theirs got kicked out though.
I wasn’t up for the bullshit to keep rolling to a point that I was all too used to. This girl and her team drove me nuts. I tried so hard with her. I swear I tried. Nobody could make my headhurt like she could. She could make me physically tired and sick. It was exhausting. They never evengave me credit for the countless conversations that I didn’t save. They knew at any moment theydecided to put all their guns down, I would gladly throw mine out the window. I too, just likeher, wanted this thing to work out. I didn’t want drama. But they kept creating it with over-paranoia. It caused more problems than it helped them, or me and Janet. We never kept us apart.
Those things did. Those things caused fights, and all kinds of craziness. The more I’d show that Iwas running away, the more they would turn it up-because they felt I was running away with toomuch and as far as Janet was concerned-her heart. The good was good, but the bad was painful. Itfucked my head up. It was like she got to a point where she screamed with veins popping out ofher head: “I’m SICK of her! Do everything short of killing her!”…slammed the door, then fromthere; the madness began-for a lonngggg time before they got humble (and we got happy again).
The irony is, they would have turned up no different whether there was any saving, and chronicle of details turned book or not. I assure you. How can I say that and be so sure. I’ll tellyou why-because it was eight months of craziness from them that made me get defensive andcautious, and in turn, forced me to start chronicling everything. Yet, even knowing that I wasdoing that, that never changed what Janet and I were doing-at all. So knowing that I was savingand chronicling (just in case), and it wasn’t enough to make her leave me alone, then what reasonwould they have had to still not be so over cautious had I not started chronicling, any differentthan they were doing even before I decided to start chronicling? They had every opportunity in thisto chill, and they knew I would chill too-but they chose not to. Had I not chronicled, it definitelywould have been worse (for me), especially knowing that she and I would be at this all these years.
Janet had the determination, persistence, and the grip of a lion and a pit bull mixed. Nobody inthis world can convince me that there is another human being alive that can match her tenacity-nobody. With countless ups and downs to date, it’s 2013 and I say that as I write that. So trustme. I know that I’m talking about when I say that.
At any rate.
I just took a deep breath, rolled my eyes and walked out of the room without Visit this writer


RAFEL NADAL SALAS- L’INDIÀ D’ESPORLES III. Alçament militar i Guerra Civil, 1936-39. L’arròs va a “grumallons” A mesura que arribàvem als darrers dies de la Segona República, l’ambient polític s’enterbolia. La Falange, que no havia aconseguit cap diputat a les darreres eleccions a les quaranta províncies on s’havia presentat, va augmentar la seva pressió social.

Microsoft word - ncbwa 2007 no. 1.doc

(Volume 46, No. 1, Jan. 31, 2007) Membership: Play ball! It’s hard to believe that we have not yet reached February, but the first reports of college baseball scores has come through on my computer. It was with great pleasure and interest that I read the first recap – defending national champion Oregon State picking up where it left off in Omaha last year – and prepared for what we al

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