Bathroom Confessions

I have learned over the years that the most comfortable place for upsetting news, confessions, and stories for me is the bathroom. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the whole small enclosed area thing, or maybe it’s the cool, calming tile colors that most bathrooms have. I don’t know…all I know is that looking over my life, most of the most upsetting emotional situations I have been in have been held in bathrooms.
When I told my best female friend that I was bisexual (as I woman I was afraid she would flip out a little more than my male friends would) I was curled up in her bathtub.
When I told my mother I was pregnant, I was on the phone, sitting in the middle of my bathroom floor.
When I found out that I had flunked out of Tech, I locked myself in the dorm bathroom for almost four hours and just stared at the wall.

Every since I was little I have always loved small spaces. I was a tent child, give me a sheet and a few chairs, and I would create a tiny little corner somewhere that I could curl up in with a book and a snack. Everything was quiet and perfect in my tents. For the longest I have been working on convincing myself that a whole house done in Late Bedouin tent style will just not work, but there is this little corner of me that wants a gently draped and sheltered corner that I can crawl to when life gets a little too rough. Lately, my bed has been the substitute for the tent. *shrugs* I guess pulling the sheets over your head kinda qualifies for the tent thing huh?

I have never been good at waiting. I once wrote an entire poem about just how BAD I am at waiting. Therefore this whole moving thing is about to drive me to distraction. If I KNEW when I was leaving, it would be okay…but I can’t even buy my airline ticket because I don’t know when the moving company is going to get here. And I won’t know until the 9th or 10th of August. AUGUST!!!! That will give me...oh about a week (or less) to finally put everything into gear. *groans* And then my job is really starting to get on my nerves. If I had something to do n a daily basis, it would be cool. I would run around and do my busy little bee imitation and I would be fine. But not having anything to do but either mess around online or sit alllllll up in my supervisors face and watch her put together a database is driving me CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!! If I didn’t need the money like a fish needs water I would be staying home every single day. *sighs* anything else?

I have a small…dilemma I guess you could call it. A friend of mine offered to pay for me getting my hair done as a graduation gift. I want to get my hair braided, and it will cost around 260.00. Yes, I said two hundred and sixty dollars. Now, full time job or no, I really don’t expect him to be able to fork all that over at once. However, that isn’t even really the problem…my problem is how do I come out and say… HEY! I’m ready to cash in on that gift.. can I have the money please? And oh, by the way, it’ll be close to 300.00. *sighs* And because I can actually get them myself (though it makes life A LOT tighter). it would be easy for me not to ask him. Even if he says he can’t afford it all, I can pay part of it. My issue is how do I come out and ask for him to make good on his offer, without sounding like a total gold–digger? Mind you, he hasn’t mentioned anything about this gift since he offered it… *Sighs* anddd since he is low on the reliability charts, I’m wondering if I should even waste the time in asking. *sighs* Men.

P.S. No, his ass never gave me the damn money. And yes, I did ask. *snorts* No good men....

Stay Jazzed.