Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Kyla Chronicles: Here's Lookin' At You Kyla

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Last night, was incredible. Now run home to that little girl of yours. As long as I continue to get mine, I'll continue to keep our little secret.

I read that line over I don't know how many times, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. I wouldn't necessarily call myself gullible, but I believed Tristan loved me. Well...I had until a moment ago. Call me foolish, but three years with a man will do that to you. Last I knew, tonight was his first night home from a two month tour. I thought I was the first face he'd seen. The first stop he'd made. Now I was finding out he'd been in town a night prior? Then again, "last night" didn't have to be in New York, did it? But who could he have seen on the road to have a "secret" with? Had he even been on the road at all?

So many questions, but nowhere to start but that message. What to do? I had a man waiting for me in the shower who I was beginning to think I didn't even know. To boot, I'd just had sex with him. Good sex. Scratch that. Great sex. Hold up, forget the sex! But while we're on the sex, thank God it was protected sex. I've been known to slip up. Just thinking of those times and how stupid I'd been had my mind reeling and wanting to do like somebody's crazy mama and take a belt to that wet ass. The possibility that my Tristan could have brought home some nasty ass disease to me, had me envisioning doing some crazy shit to the man. My head was starting to spin out of control and that was not good. For his ass.

I still had on my Giuseppe's since he liked me to keep them on while we got it poppin'. Kudos to me for being a trooper. Who would've known my compliance would prove so useful? I went in the coat closet, threw on my ASOS trenchcoat, grabbed my phone and keys, threw them in my Louis bag, and bolted out the door. I needed time and more info before I made a move. I'm the type of chick to end up on Snapped and I loved Tristan. I really did. I didn't want to hurt the man (necessarily). But I did want to get to the bottom of this. What the hell was going on?

Monday, July 25, 2011

Lovin' Lovey's

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Ya girl Miss White @ Lovey's

Whattup ya'll? *Lala Vasquez-Anthony voice*

Just wanted to drop ya'll a line to let ya'll know about Lovey's Boutique in Brooklyn. A quick backstory:

You know Tionna Smalls from VH1's "What Chilli Wants?" Well if not, she's the BK chick that tried to help Chilli find love. Truth be told, I've never seen the show, but being the pop culture head that I am, I heard about Tionna through the grapevine. I started following her on twitter and her brand of realness, reminded me of familiar girls I'd grown up with...and me.

One day, she tweeted about her accessories boutique, which just happened to be around the corner from my crib. Go figure! I ran over there real quick just to check out some of the accessories, being the girlie girl I am. When I got there, to my surprise Ms. Smalls herself was in the store. She was exactly as you would expect her to be. BK all day. After a quick chat, with her and a sales associate (that included me telling her about the blog of course), I purchased a bag and kept it moving.

A few days later, I found that Tionna had retweeted one of my blogs and that day alone it received over 300 views. She'd also left a comment about how she related. Love the love. I decided to repay it.

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Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Kyla Chronicles: D Before Dishonor

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Tristan walked in looking like a black Jesus with a dark Caesar haircut with the waves spinning 360. Now I know I shouldn't be comparing any man to the greatness that is J-E-S-U-S *cue the Winans circa 1985*, but I swear I heard angels singing when his fine ass walked through the door. Well he didn't walk, as much as he strode but it's the same difference. Right? Naaaah. Not even close. Who am I kidding? Only certain men stride and he was definitely one of 'em. His not quite milk chocolate skin was tinged with a golden tone, and he did not look like a man worn out from a two month bus tour. He looked almost...refreshed. He dropped his bag at the door and called out:

"Babe??"

"I'm in here baby. In the living room laying on the couch."

He strode over to the couch and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his broad torso and eagerly pressed my lips against his. He parted my lips with his tongue and began to hungrily massage my tongue with his. My body was  in such pleasurable shock that I followed his lead, but I quickly realized he didn't really get a chance to see what I was serving up. I spent money on that damn outfit and La Perla ain't cheap. Not to mention it was cute. He was gonna at least see it. If only momentarily. I gently pulled away and he set me down. I loved how he handled my thick frame so delicately, yet so strongly at the same time.

"Baby, I missed you more than you can imagine but I wanted you to get a good look at what you were missing." I said as I twirled around.

"You look sexy as hell babe. Trust me. Can't you tell I know just what I was missing?" He looked downward and pulled me close again. "Hence the reason I just want to touch you, hold you, do somethin' other than look." He smiled coquettishly. "You talkin' about an outfit, and I'm tryna show you how we fit."

My partner in crime replied by moistening. "Umm yeah...that too.",I fumbled. "It's just I ain't see you in how long? I wanted to look good for you." I fake pouted, turned around, walked over to the dining room table, and made sure my hips had an extra sway while I was at it. "And show off my ass-ets."

"And ass-ets you have, sexy. But you always look beautiful. That's nothing new. Now come here. Sit on my lap. Or somewhere else. Your choice."

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Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Letters to My Unborn Child - Don't Wait For Tomorrow - It May Not Come

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Hi Baby,

Mommy has a story for you. I want you to pay close attention and see what you come away with:

When Mommy was in the first grade she had a friend named Shante. We loved to be around each other, and together we were too much. We'd go to each other's houses and play dress up, run around in the schoolyard, have lunch in the cafeteria with other friends, and be chatterboxes in class (like I'm sure you probably will be too) as little girls usually are. We even got chicken pox together and our mothers had us stay at my house together, so we could have someone to play with, while we were both sick and out of school. She was my best friend.

She would often be absent from class for some reason, but never long enough to cause any worry. One day, a few days had passed since Shante'd been to school. A guidance counselor came in to talk to our class, along with our first grade teacher (Ms. Hopkins was her name). The guidance counselor sat us down as a class and told us Shante had passed away. She had been in a terrible car accident where she'd been tragically hit. I still remember how heartbroken I was as I walked home from the bus stop, to my aunt's house. It's something I'll never forget, but even more I will never forget Shante and what she taught me. And that's what I want to share with you baby.

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Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Kyla Chronicles: Showtime At The Edge

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I'd just gotten off from work and couldn't wait to get home. I was pushing my X5 down the FDR like it was Kit from Nightrider, Beyonce's "Party" blaring in the background. I had so much to do as Tristan was coming home from a two month tour with Jill Scott. I needed to get to BK. And quick. I had a lot to do and was pressed for time .I wanted everything to be just right for our reunion. I missed him so much it hurt and seeing him was the only remedy. I'd constantly wondered if he'd missed me as much, since we hadn't spoken as frequently as we normally had when he was on tour. Tristan was a backup singer and he toured with different artists. This month, it was Jill Scott. Next month was anyone's guess. He was good - actually he was great - and therefore steadily booking gigs. He had dreams of becoming the headliner, but he figured the background was at least a step in the right direction.

At first it was intriguing and kinda sexy to be dating a musician. But after too many nights alone with BOB (my battery operated boyfriend), life with the next big thing didn't seem too attractive. I figured if I was having this much trouble when he was touring as back-up, how would I feel when he was touring the world on his own merit? And what would that mean for our relationship? I didn't really see myself as the roadie type. I had dreams of my own and I was well on my way. Along with the fact that we were approaching three years and he still hadn't proposed, I wasn't sure where our relationship was headed. The fact that we were in a committed relationship was keeping me from venturing out, but I admit I often had doubts about our future. I mean I'm no slouch and getting a man isn't hard. I'm chocolate, about 5'7, with long black hair that could be considered cooly, with ass for days. What? I'm just saying. I have my fair share of suitors but my loyalty and my love for Tristan keeps them at bay. Damned morals.

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Tuesday, July 12, 2011

LIV on Sundays; Reality On Monday

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*exhales*

As I sit here, beyond exhausted, on the bus heading downtown Brooklyn to handle some business, namely a trip to the unemployment office, I'm being hit with the harsh reality that the fun is done and real life didnt wait for me to come back from vacation. While I was partying hardy at LIV on Sunday *cue Weezy*, a nightclub in the luxe Fontainebleau Hotel on Miami's South Beach, listening to Chris Brown belt out "I work too hard to be ballin' on a budget", I debated whether to have another drink or make sure I had some emergency money left, as well as a few dollars just in case I wanted breakfast after the club. I stood there and realized I was the poster child for ballin' on a budget *cheese*. Trust and believe, I did it and did it well, but I'd be lying if I said when they were asking for sixty dollars at the door, it didn't make me cringe to see others pull it out while I myself knew it was between fronting to get into LIV, and me being a few dollars too short for anything else.

Now let me be frank, I'm never gonna go broke to front. To put on a show or perpetrate a fraud. But I will go next to broke to live my life with no regrets. I'm adventurous what can I say? *shrugs* Some people wait til they have thousands, and some even millions in the bank before they can start to live. But me? I know tomorrow's not promised and I can't die with the little bit of duckets that I do have. All things considered, I live a damn good life. But that doesn't make the reality of Monday any less harsher.

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Saturday, July 2, 2011

Homie, Lover, Friend - Is Your Boo Your Bestie??

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One thing about me is I know who I rock with and I keep my circle small. My boo happens to be my ace boon coon. He can never fill the role my girls do, but I can talk to him about anything.  I can talk to him about how fine Idris Elba is and how he could most definitely "get it". I can talk to him about those new stilettos I want 'cause he likes to picture how they'll look on me when I strut around for him. I can even talk to him about my insecurities like my struggles with my ever fluctuating weight and the next to skimpy dresses (but always classy) I would like to wear if I so chose. That's my bestie for real!

I'm not gonna front, I let go of that "best friend" notion a few years ago. Remember back in the day, how every other year you had a new "best friend"? Or maybe that was just me *shrugs*. To say "best" implies one is better than another. As I've gotten older, I've realized that no friend trumps another. Do we share more things with some rather than others? Sure. But that just means everything ain't for everybody. Another thing I've picked up along the way.

I know I sound like a walking contradiction...I don't do best friends, but my boo is my bestie. That's exactly what I'm asking though...should your boo be your bestie? Or should you stick to your girls/boys?

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