Monday, March 21, 2011

I have to quit you because I HATE YOU

Dear Aunt Flow,
I hate you.  Really I do.  You make me sick.  You LITERALLY make me sick.  You give me lower back pains, cramps, headaches and unbearable fatigue.  I HATE YOU.  This month you gave me more bodily pain than I have ever felt in my entire life.  You wiped me out.  The fatigue you brought was a huge interference to my life.  You made me miss two days of work.  The drugs in my cabinet were not strong enough to tame you.  You really do make me ill.

You were heavier than ever those first two days too.  I HATE YOU!  I’m tired of you interfering in my life.  I’m tired of you taking the MOMMY that my children love and turning her into some evil creature from the bowels of hell.    Aunt Flow, we are not compatible.  I am by nature cheery, fun, lively, bubbly, sweet, entertaining, nurturing, all things good about WOMEN.  You are the total opposite of who I am.  You are fickle.  You are mean.  I never know what I’m gonna get when you come around.  When you come around I become someone I do not like.  You make me grumpy and crabby.  We do not belong together.

Why are you so horrible to me sometimes?  You are not consistent in your treatment of me either.  Sometimes you are ok, but when you decide to be bad you are the absolute worst.   Are you upset with me because I made the decision not to have more children?  Is that why you tried to murder me this month?

Aunt Flow, this relationship is so unhealthy.   You know that I do not do unhealthy relationships.  Which is why I am writing this letter to break up with you.  Yes, that’s right.  I’m taking a contract out on your sorry ass.  This is personal because sometimes I have to put my life on hold because of you.  I’ve done my research about non-invasive ways to get rid of you.  Now I’m interviewing Aunt Flow hit men to be rid of you.  In the meantime I wish you would go kick lava rocks in the hottest pits of Hell.  You deserve it after what you pulled this month.

Our entire relationship has not been all bad, but lately you’ve gotten worse.  I mean the first maybe 20 years of our relationship you were ok.  You didn’t wreak so much havoc.  But this month you went too far.  Maybe it’s because some of us get worse with age.  I think that’s the case with you.  I’m getting better and it is so unfortunate that you cannot get better with me.  I’ll be so glad when you are out of my life.

Aunt Flow, it’s been real but now I gotta say PEACE and Namaste.

Thanks and Have A Great Day,

Keala M. Jacobs

Friday, March 4, 2011

You Smell Nice

You smell nice - Originally written June 30, 2006

"I really need to check my email," I think as I walk into the bank. I guess I'll check it from my phone.

As I walk in, I see a very tall and handsome young man standing in line. There are two other women at the teller windows. Good, I don't have to wait long. That boy looks like somebody's son. I wonder if he's running errands for his mama. I'm checking my emails.

"You smell nice," he says.

"Thanks," I reply as I look up and give him a genuine smile. I quickly return to checking my emails.

"Are you playing a game on that thing?" he asks.

"Oh no. I'm checking my email." I reply again.

"Cool," he says as he steps up to the counter to handle his business, or his mama's business. I'm now first in line and I go right back to checking my email.

He leaves, then it's my turn. I make my transaction, then I leave as well.

When I get outside, I see the young man sitting in his car. He summons me to come near. I'm thinking he may have a question or something. He did....

He asked me, "Are you married?"


"Are you seeing anyone special right now?"


"So, you are single?"


"Hi, my name is Herman. What's yours?"

"Keala," I reply as I extend my hand for a handshake.

"Do you mind if I give you my number so you can call me if you want to?"

Right about now I'm thinking why doesn't he just ask me for my number instead, but I already know the answer.

"What's your number? I can put it in my phone now." I say.

He gives me the number. I immediately call his phone and he answers with a huge smile. We continue our conversation right there on the phone. Of course I have to ask him how old he is.


"Ok, " I say. That's just old enough for me.

I get in my car and we chat for a few minutes while we're driving our separate ways. I look at this young man and what I see doesn't quite match what he reveals to me. I see a real youngin, and he turns out to be a grown up responsible gentleman.


Never judge a a book by it's cover....

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