Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Blog 69: Letting Someone Down...

Blog 69: Letting Someone Down….

What makes us take one path, instead of the other?

This last week, I let someone I love down…a friend, a boss, a mentor…someone I look up to and I love…I let them down because I was selfish, I was caught up in the moment, and while I was letting her down, I was letting myself down as well.

See even a Princess can be a chicken fucker.

I put someone else before her…and what kills me is the person I put first, never puts me first…their job, their friends and a laundry list of things always come before me…and yet I put him before my job and my friends…and I wish I could take back time…that being said…oh what a lesson I have learned.

While I disappointed my friend and know she has every right to be mad, I also know that our friendship is stronger than this incident…I have faith that I have been a very good friend…I know that I have loved her, stuck up for her, and been true to her, just as she has helped me, it has not been a one sided road…I know I put an effort into the relationship…which is one of the reasons that I am so mad at myself….yet I know that our friendship is stronger than this, and after time passes, so will the disappointment I made my friend feel.

I also know that maybe at my age…she might have made the same mistake…it doesn’t justify it at all, just humanizes it.

The truth of the matter is that what I did was not that big of a deal (I didn’t show up for something I was suppose to…and an effort had been made by this person so I could go) and it was not that I had bad intentions or any intent of malice….but that does not take away from the matter that I let my friend down…and I love my friend more than words can tell…

I simply got caught up…distracted by matters of the heart (ohhhh, those matters of the heart can really take a girl over).

I am ridden with mortification of my actions…my choices.

And feeling guilty, really sucks…it torments me and ravages me when I awake…it sneaks into the back of my head when I am trying to space out and forget, I have been finding myself shaking my head to myself and just thinking, “how could I have been so stupid”….which has lead to my neck kinda hurting…ouch.

Now granted, maybe my feelings of “guilt” are stronger than they should be, I was raised Catholic after all…they really bang that shit into you at a young age…but I think the real reason I feel so guilty is that I saw this happening on the horizon and I did nothing to fix the situation…I let my emotions sweep me away.

And maybe she hasn’t given it a second thought, but the truth of the matter is that I have…for as much as I disappointed her…pales in comparison to how I have made myself feel.

I made the classic woman mistake of putting a man before my friends…my true friends…and we all know the saying, “men come and go….”

And in putting someone first who never reciprocates the action, I really did let myself down…for when it comes to my heart, I am weak, and somewhat of a dumb ass (reason #194 why I am not yet a Queen)…I in no way mean this man does not love me, simply that he is not capable of loving me the way I need to be loved, or does not want to and I am fully aware of that (a lesson I keep badgering into my head)…I just keep coming back to be punished again and again…I pray for the day that I achieve the strength to walk away (but remember walking the walk and talking the talk are two very different things.)

As I marched to meet him the night of the incident, I felt the pull…the lure, in the back of my mind I knew that something bad was going to happen…and yet I kept on proceeding in his direction…see, this man is like a drug to me…he is an addiction I must kick and yet have no clue how…I am completely aware in my head that I deserve a man who will put me first as I do him, a man that doesn’t make me cry all the time, that realizes my importance…but a gluten for punishment I must be.

I wonder if he feels this same remorse when he lets me down…

It is easier for me to deal with him letting me down than to deal with myself letting me down…we are always harder on ourselves.

Why do we let ourselves down?

It is a question that I have been pondering since that night…and one I have so many thoughts about, yet so few answers.

I know I am not the only one…that puts the wrong people first, that gets caught up in what is happening at the moment, that is weak when it comes to love…

And when will I stop letting myself down…when will I learn my lesson…how long before I can finally kick my habit?

Sometimes this whole “choice” between right and wrong is a bitch and a half and I could really use more of a road map…totally.

Why did I follow the lure?

Even though I knew it was the wrong hook to bite.

Why did I not listen to the voice in my head? (then again, I know I should not listen to all the voices I my head…welllllllll)

Why am I so weak?
(I think the main reason I am so powerless is because I love it when this man holds me, I feel so safe in his arms, I disappear to sleep, floating on a soft cloud…the waking up part is the bitch and a half.)

I thought I was a strong-ass-bitch, I believed my priorities to be intact and than whammmmmmmm, just like that…I become a chicken fucker.


Oye, the parallels of being human.

The truth of the matter is that as much of a lesson as I have learned…I am probably more often than not going to follow my heart…that is just the reality of the situation…for who does not want to be loved.

Following my heart has led me to my highest highs and my lowest lows, to my greatest gifts and my most mind-numbing lessons.

And if I did not fuck up like I did this last week, I would not be realizing just how important my friends are to me (not that I didn’t know but sometimes you need a good slap upside the head)…the companions that have shown how much I matter to them…now, after my schooling I am one step closer to overcoming my addiction. (I am just not a “cold turkey” kinda girl)

I pray that I learn to make the right choices…to have my priorities in order…to tap into the strength I know I have…I hope that for all of us.

The homily I gave myself this week I will carry with grace…and I feel eventually, it will help lead me in the right direction.

Here is to hoping, and to a whole lotta faith.


MAKING THE COCKTAIL….(cause sometimes you need a drink)

I like to shake things up…so first things first…I grab a shaker and than crack some ice cubes out of those tray thingies you got in the freezer and pop them in my shaker, don’t forget to put some in your glass to chill that bitch off…now…booze time ☺ if you are going to do 2 kinds of booze to a 6-8 count on each, one kind of booze gets a 12-16 count…I am a fan of citrus so I squeeze some citrus in that mug, maybe a splash or two of some juice action…now put the lid to the shaker on and SHAKE THAT SHIT UP….keep going…dump the ice from you glass (into the sink not on the floor ding dong) and strain that drink into your ice cold glass…sniff…smelling good is always important… it smells good, time to enjoy…CHEERS.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Blog 68: She called me a "Hippie"

Blog 67: She called me a “Hippie”

Sunny’s dictionary says a HIPPIE is:
A person of unconventional appearance, typically with long hair, jeans, beads, etc., often associated with hallucinogenic drugs and rejection of conventional values...(other words associated with HIPPIE...bohemian, longhair, flower person & dropout)

The Setting:
Sunny arrives at a dinner party for a dude she knows through work...thank God she brought a friend cause she didn’t know anyone else and the party was stiff when we arrived. Thank God Sunny brought the birthday guy a gift of a JUNO WHAT cd...cause when we entered, not nary a note of music was being played (what Sunny considers a clue in helping to determine a “straight party”)...Sunny put in the cd so at least her and her friend could get down.

The Situation:
As guests started to arrive Sunny drank some champagne (cause champagne makes everything better) and tried to make small talk with guests...she met some very nice people from different walks of life...all was going well but every five minutes or so Sunny would walk up to her friend and say, “Thank God you came with me.”...Cause let us be honest, in situations where you are uncomfortable or don’t feel at home sometimes it is nice to have a partner in crime.

The Incident:
As the last of the guests arrived a lady came in. The first thought in Sunny’s head was how beautiful she was...dressed crisp and simple...she showed an understated elegance...unfortunately her fashion and her words did not pair well together as Sunny was about to learn...Sunny, intrigued by the lady’s style and vibe walked up right away to introduce herself (and the chick had the champagne in her hand...twofer)...Sunny immediately forgot the girls name when introduced (she is such a ding dong that Sunny Bunny)...Sunny asked questions and learned that the woman was from the Ivory Coast and New York...her accent was delicate yet firm...she returned the questions she had answered with replica inquiries...after hearing that Sunny was from San Francisco than moved to Humboldt and Eugene than back to Frisco, she raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and said...”Oh...you must be a hippie, only hippies live in Eugene.” And preceded to roll her eyes two more times (Sunny pondered if the chick had “random wondering eye syndrome” but found that almost impossible)...

Sunny repeated...”I must be a hippie?”

Than home skillet replied with, “You probably don’t even shave your legs...”

The Reaction:
Now Sunny has always been known to be nice and polite, but once in a while...while still being respectful she will put a motherfucker in their place.

Sunny turned to fully face the lady that had just judged her after two sentences (Side note: Now if she had read the blog “Honey, I just look this Way” maybe none of this would have happened...reason #284 why more people should read Sunny’s Blog...totally.)

Sunny took a deep breath and out came the words...”Am I a hippie?...Well, I work multiple jobs, work almost everyday of the week, shave my legs regularly...like a slip and slide they are, not my pits that often cause the hair is red and it can go longer, graduated from college, used to own a restaurant, live by myself, wears princess dresses, smoke pot all the fucking time, try my hardest to be a good person, smells fucking delicious and does not judge a person because of where they are from or what they look like but how they are as a person...does that make me a hippie...I don’t know...my History BA degree ass thought hippies were from the 60’s...what the hell is a hippie in your mind anyway?”

The woman took a minute to reply, but all of a sudden her “random wandering eye syndrome” stopped and her bottom lip dropped into a “huh” look (almost like the female version of a chode)...”I guess I just thought that everyone in Eugene were hippies.”

A smile spread upon Sunny’s face...she asked, “Have you ever been to Eugene?”...The woman across from her shook her head NO...as the smile on The Princess’s face got bigger...she replied “well than I guess you can’t say that only hippies live in Eugene or that I am one, cause you don’t even know...I bet you don’t even know what a ‘hippie’ is, I am going to go home and look that shit up in my dictionary and get back to you...(hence the definition at the beginning of the Blog)...are you going to the show tonight it is going to be great.”...Sunny is a firm believer that after you prove a point if only to yourself you should change the subject, and Sunny is always working so promoting a show she was seeing was an easy subject to change to...)

What Sunny Thought in Her Mind while all this was going on:
Bitch please, what the fuck is a “hippie”...in today’s society what is “conventional” and “unconventional” and if you are someone that doesn’t want to be labeled and judged, don’t fucking do that to anyone else, let them tell you who the fuck they are...I am sure they know themselves a hell a lot more than they know anything else...I thought the ideals of “Peace, Love and Happiness” were pretty much the same ideals our forefathers fought for and wrote in The Constitution, just in different words...and that ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL...I could have thought a whole lot of shit about this chick when I first saw her, but instead I waited to get to know her...and you know what, I still don’t know her, she might not have meant for her words to come across the way she did...I don’t know, cause I wasn’t in her mind.

I just found her to be _____________(that is where her name is supposed to be if I could fucking remember it.)

And I am just Sunny.

You can’t categorize me, or put me in a group, I am sure the hell not going in the corner...and while some people might share traits, ideals and views about shit with me, they ain’t me...And I’m not you.

And that is fucking awesomeness.

Now go be fucking you and let others do the same.

And don’t judge...it leads to “random wandering eye syndrome’ and that shit really freaks me out.



Start by opening the lid, put your detergent in...put in the quarters (when did washing machines start to cost so much money, chicken fuckers!)...anyhoo...start putting in the cloths, unroll the socks so they get washed right, close the lid...now put your feet together and bend your knees, keeping your elbows against your ribs put your forearms out at 45 degree angles, now pivot your body back and forth washing the cloths...SPIN CYCLE TIME...go super fast...and stop, open the lid...and wait for the “Folding the Laundry” Dance.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Blog 67: Mommy, You have Blessed me...

Blog 67: Mommy, You have Blessed me...

(My “Dear Daddy” Letter is Blog 53)

Dear Mommy may I count the ways that you have blessed me...

I should probably start with the endowing of my itty-bitty waist and that round thing in your face...you get sprung...on my ass...times 11, I often look at people who remark about my buttocks and say, “Hair from my dad, Hips from my mom”...then I proceed to shake it on down now...

Granted I don’t know whether my ass causes more harm than good that is something which is up for grabs...I think it has only caused one traffic accident...anyhoo, I must say I have learned to adore my ass. In a society where sticks and skinny jeans are in (even for men if you live in The Mission) I still feel like I have a freakin awesome body even if it is not what ELLE or VANITY FAIR think is perfect, it is mine...and for me personally, my favorite part of my body is the curve between my waist and my hips...delightful.

Thank you mom for my ass, I have embraced it with gusto...

Now besides what I inherited from my mom (a photographic memory as well) she has taught so much more.

I mentioned back in the day (Blog 16) the lesson I learned from her about wearing a bra so my boobs don’t sag...I’m wearing one now mom ☺

But there are some key elements that my mom has taught me about life as well...


My mom has been a teacher at the same school for like forty years or something, for me going to college was a requirement, I did not know why I was going to college, but knew I had too...to make my mommy proud. And while I still do absolutely nothing with my degree...it is my safety net in life, an area or field that I can go to when all else fails, an accomplishment in life that I can say I did, proof to my follow through and my ability to stick shit out...and while I don’t always talk like the most educated woman on the block...it’s in there...that is for sure.


My mom might question my “lady like-ness”...I do call people “chicken fuckers” after all...That being said, I always say “please” and “thank you”...usually bring a bottle of wine to houses I am invited to, treat my friends like gold, do not like to fight in public, insist on smelling good and am a dedicated and hard worker...I have learned that to be a “lady” is not only in how you carry yourself but in your follow through and your way of thought.

(Sunny Insight: Growing up, my mom only wore dresses, she only recently started to wear pants...so if any of you wonder why I rock the long dresses, it is cause my mom wore them everyday when I was growing up and I can think of no other lady that I would like to emulate)


While my mother teaches me how to be a lady, she has never taught me to be weak, that’s not my mother’s vision of a lady. If I start freaking out about something she yells, “Calm Down, one thing at a time” and we go from there...I have never seen my mother meet a challenge that she has not overcome, I am sure she has failed along the road, but I have never seen it...I have only seen her grow, evolve...like a true lady should.


My mom could have not worked when we were young, times would have been tougher, but she had the option...my mother often tells me, “she chooses to work”...that being a contributing factor to the relationship helps keeps her at an equal level with my father.

I have evolved to become an independent woman, and it gives me a strength I never knew that I could have...it ignites the fire inside my core...pushing me to desire greatness for my self...


My mother has taught me to never let anything come between family, that our blood is sacred and stupid trivial things hold no importance when it comes to the sanctity of our family.

I meet people that have parents like mine and don’t appreciate it and I ponder at their disillusionment...my family has had its shares of ups and down but my parents make a conscious effort to make us a unit...

To be honest, I don’t know how I got blessed with the mother and father that I have...I am fully aware of my luck, and am so fortunate that I have been able to move back to the city and soak in my parents love and take our relationship to a whole new level.

My parents have believed in me in ever endeavor I have taken, even if they question my actions, their support is always still there...they have watched me at my highs and at my lows, and their love for me has never faulted.

I am blessed to have the mother that I have.

I am blessed to have the father that I have.

Part of me never even considers having children for I have such big shoes to fill...

It is hard to follow in the path of greatness.

And yet I still walk my walk, as any royalty born from a King and Queen should.



Grab your potato, turn the sink on and wash that bad boy off, now grab your peeler and peel the skin off, cut our potato up into cubes and toss it into the boiling water...wait (this includes tapping your foot and looking as well as pointing to your watch) once the potatoes has cooked for long enough (you might have to put some other dance moves in the mix while you are waiting) take the pot off the stove, drain the pot and grab the masher and start to mash your potato, harder...add some cream and butter, start to whip that shit up, check your consistency...ohhhh, add salt and pepper, taste test, yummers!!!...time for the “making the gravy” dance.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Blog 66: I think "Shit Breath" is Gross

Blog 66: I think “Shit Breath” is Gross

I don’t know about you all, but I prefer not to have the taste of shit in my mouth...just saying.

I have been witnessed these past few weekends to some ladies “talking shit” and I can smell the putrid linger of their words from here, and let me tell you...It smells bad!

I am going to start bringing some mouth wash to The Boom Boom Room from now on...which sucks, cause I don’t have room in my purse for that shit...maybe binaca...ohhhhh, here is a great idea, how bout we just don’t talk shit!

For me, personally, talking shit is a waste of time, I have better things to do with my day than try to pull other people down, what happened to lifting everyone up?

Aren’t we all suppose to make it to the Promised Land?

Was high school not years ago?

Have we not all grown...and why the hell not?

Why the hell can we not simply be respectful of each other...civil...I am not saying that we have to all be friends, that is asking a lot, and to be honest some people piss me the fuck off...but I ain’t going to be rude...that is not proper...and if there is anything that I have learned on my path to becoming a Queen, it is that you have got to be fucking proper to people, no matter how you feel about them...period...they are still people.

There are numerous reasons why talking shit is simply a waste of time...

-It takes away from what you are doing.

Unless you have a “talking shit day” or dinner evening planned, I am pretty sure it is no what you intended on doing (at least I hope so...we are all capable of being good, right?) so why distract from your plans...if you are going to see a music show, go see the fucking show. Don’t let yourself miss the great music you paid to go see cause you have the need to bring someone else down...be better than that...(and on a “Sunny Show Rule” note: Don’t talk shit, or anything really in front of the stage, that is rude, if you are going to get into deep conversation go to the back, the front is for people who are listening to the music...respect the musicians you are watching play)

-It is not becoming.

I have said before, “We are all Royalty”...and one does not make themselves look regal talking shit, in fact, it belittles you, which makes you look as bad as the person you are talking about. Not to mention the “shit breath” factor which isn’t getting anyone any beauty points.

-It creates Drama.

Did I not just write that drama is a bitch and a half...did no one listen?

Why would you want to go someplace and feel uncomfortable and do that to someone else, what is your issue? Cause when you are talking shit you are acknowledging that you have a problem, not the person you are talking about, especially if they are just smiling and having a good time...creating drama makes one appear weak, being above the petty shit, makes one appear strong...how do you want to be perceived?

-Not talking shit brings co-existence to a whole new level.

When we become above the silliness of us not all agreeing on shit...and realize that no matter what we all must co-exist...it becomes easy...imagine how close we might come to world peace if we all acknowledged our differences but still were respectful of each other...how can we obtain the “big picture” without starting in the minuet details of our daily life.

-You have given something bad for people to say about you.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be known as the chick that talks mad shit...cause if you are saying bad stuff about people than peeps might think you do that about them, or just associate you talking smack with your persona...which means people know you as having “shit breath”...yucky-ness...totally.

I would like to be known as the chick that holds her head up high and smiles, and is above it all, but that is just me.

I think that we should get over our issues with other people...at least not spread them to everyone and their mom...if you have an issue with someone, keep it with that person, don’t go telling your business to everyone, why show weakness? Why let other people know that a person can get to you?

Why not let people learn about other people themselves, make their own judgments, learn their own lessons...for one person might rub one person one way, and another a whole different way...

Cause guess what peeps...We are all different.

Embrace that shit.

Take the higher path.

Be a better person than the person talking shit, and in being a better person you become a class act.

And “Shit Breathers” can’t follow a class act...they just get left in the toilet.

Now go be fucking nice.



All right, start by turning the faucet on and getting your toothbrush nice and wet, than put some toothpaste on that mug (if you are one of the peeps that like to paste before you wet, switch up those moves...whatever makes you happy darlin)...now start to brush, get the sides, the top, do those small circle moves in the front, sides again, don’t forget the very back, wrist getting tired? Now spit...toss some water in your mouth and swoosh it around, spit, maybe another swoosh...spit...look in the mirror and smile, rub your tongue over your teeth...those be some smooth ass motherfuckers, and they SMELL GOOD!