Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Nostalgia, Relationships

Letting Go…

I’m not a sappy chick by nature- I’m not usually into the poetry thing or the over-sugarfied love songs.

Every once in a while life throws even the least romantic among us a curve ball…

I guess I’m no exception.

We’ve all been in one of those relationships, or found ourselves in situations where we knew we simply needed to let go.

You know what I’m talking about…

Intellectually it’s a no-brainer, in our minds we know it’s time to walk…

… But our hearts can make it impossible.

I came across this poem tonight, it’s one I’ve seen before, and it explains what I mean better than any words I could ever come up with on my own.

Letting go isn’t a helpless scenario… it is not synonymous with giving up.

We simply have to realize that there are things- people- who come in and out of our lives, that we cannot control.

Sometimes, for their sake and ours, we must let go.


 Letting Go
Author unknown

To “let go” does not mean to stop caring,
it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To “let go” is not to cut myself off,
it’s the realization I can’t control another.

To “let go” is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To “let go” is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To “let go” is not to try to change or blame another,
it’s to make the most of myself.

To “let go” is not to care for,
but to care about.

To “let go” is not to fix,
but to be supportive.

To “let go” is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.

To “let go” is not to be in the middle arranging the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own destinies.

To “let go” is not to be protective,
it’s to permit another to face reality.

To “let go” is not to deny,
but to accept.

To “let go” it not to nag, scold or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings, and correct them.

To “let go” is not to adjust everything to my desires
but to take each day as it comes,
and cherish myself in it.

To “let go” is not to criticize and regulate anybody
but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To “let go” is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

To “let go” is to fear less,
and love more.

Posted in Barack Obama, C-Haze, Children, Dating, Elections, Joe Biden, John McCain, Marriage, News, Politics, Presidential Campaign, Race, Relationships, Religion, Sarah Palin, Single Mom

The Diva, STDs and a Shotgun

Thanks in part to this Sarah Palin stuff, I have been forced to have that super-candid sex talk that turns every parent’s blood cold and invokes icky feelings for all involved, with my daughter The Diva, age 10.

Yes, 10.

We’ve talked about sex before, but in very generic terms- mostly just geared towards satisfying the “Where do babies come from?” question that every parent dreads.

Last night we got down and dirty.


The conversation started like this-

The Diva: “Mom, what does abstinence mean? I keep hearing it on TV…”

Me: “Well, it’s a word that means ‘no sex’. Some people feel that it’s best to teach children ‘abstinence’, so that they don’t have sex before they’re married.”

The Diva: “Is sex bad?”

Me: “No, it’s not bad… but it’s important to wait for the right person before you do it, because it’s a very big decision, and it comes with a lot of responsibility… it’s important to know how to protect yourself from pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases/infections.”

The Diva: “Oh, you mean like with a condom. Wait- what the heck is a sexually transmitted disease?”

Oh boy.

I have to have this conversation right now??

These are the times when, as a mother, you begin to wish you were Catholic, and could send your daughter directly to the convent to become a nun.

Like ship her off right this second.

I am, however, a firm believer in the school of thought that says, “If they’re old enough to ask the question, they’re old enough to hear the answer”; in addition, I know from previous conversations that her friends are starting to have boyfriends…

I guess I figured, no time like the present.

So I took a deep breath and explained, as best I could, what an STD is… and how some of them are treatable but not all of them… we talked about how they’re contagious, but not like a cold is contagious… they’re only spread through sexual activity (at which point she asks, “like oral?”, promptly causing me to gag), and can be pretty scary, because not all STDs have symptoms associated with them. 


We also talked about HIV/AIDS, how it’s spread, and that there is no cure… I told her that as a young black-woman-in-training, it’s important to understand that AIDS is currently the number one killer of African Americans.

I explained that she can guarantee she won’t contract it by choosing not to have sex.

She can almost guarantee she won’t contract it, should she choose to have sex, by insisting on using condoms every single time.

By the time I was finished talking to her, especially about AIDS, she was completely freaked out, and for now at least, has a healthy respect for the concept of the condom.

She understands that literally, the decision to use one could some day save her life.

I told her I want her to wait until she’s married before she has sex, but that it is her choice make.

She wanted to know if I would be angry with her if she chose, years from now of course, to have sex prior to getting married.

I swallowed hard, tried to get a handle on the all-out fear that gripped me in my gut… swallowed my instinct to tell her she should just wait til marriage, period, end of conversation… and feeling as if I were giving the speech of my life, said…

“No. I wouldn’t be angry. As much as I want you to wait for marriage, it’s something I want for your sake, not mine, because it will make your life easier. There are so many responsibilities that come with sex. But this is your body, and it’s your decision- I’ll respect your choice, no matter what you decide. What’s most important is that we’re honest with each other, and talk about these things as much as possible, even if it makes you a little nervous. If you were to decide that you’re ready to have sex, the biggest thing would be that you come to me so we can get you on the pill and get you some condoms. At the end of the day, I just need you to be safe, protected and responsible.”

She allowed what I’d just said to sink in for a minute… and then slowly began nodding her head…

“Ok Mom, I hear you. If I ever decide to have sex, I’ll tell you.”

Then she grinned and said, “You’ll be one of the first to know!”

I actually threw up a little in my mouth… I mean…

This is scary stuff, you know?

I have mixed feelings about the conversation.

Did I just condone sex to my 10 year old Diva?

Or perhaps I just had a candid, real conversation… taking that first step to opening the door to honest communication in the future…

That’s what I hope I did.

I wonder how much of this “abstinence only” doctrine is nothing more than a selfish excuse for parents not to have the conversation with their own kids that I had with mine last night…

I mean, it was a nerve wracking conversation… but it was necessary, just like all the other sex talks we’ll have in the future.

I find myself longing for the days when parenting consisted of changing her poopy diapers, making sure she’s fed… warm… and has not a care in the world.

She’s becoming a woman, a beautiful young woman, and like most others her age… she is growing up way faster than I ever wanted her to… but that is no excuse to shirk my responsibilities to her…

It’s time to buy a shotgun.

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Homosexuality, News, Relationships, Religion

Gay? It’s Just Easier That Way…

I just read a blog entitled, “Gay Or Straight… And How To Tell“.

First, I’ve never quite bought that nonsense about how being gay is a choice- mostly because I didn’t choose to be straight.

I just am and always have been.

I figure it’s pretty much the same for everyone else, and given the bigotry, hatred, and mortal danger openly gay people face in this society, I really find it hard to believe most folks actually choose to live their lives in that fashion.

So when I saw the blog, I was interested. The blog itself is sort of a blog inside of a blog. At the end of it, there’s a link that gives you the option to keep reading. When I clicked on it, I was taken to another site altogether, and it’s there that I had my “What in the hell is this shit?!?!” moment.

The author is writing about what she clearly thinks is an unknown phenomenon, as in “What If You Only Think You’re Gay?”. She tells us several stories about men who “decided” at various points in their lives that they were gay, only to experience what can only be described as “Aha!” moments months or years later that literally straightened ’em right out.


All of the examples she uses in her post have the exact same theme. We have the stand-up comic who realized that he was a “man magnet”- and therefore “decided” he was gay. Then there’s the guy who was constantly ridiculed as a child by those closest to him- including his football coaches, who regularly accused him of homosexual acts- and as a result, “decided” that he really must be gay.

The common theme in the stories is that both gentlemen later realized they were wrong- the comedian saw a naked woman getting dressed one day and got turned on, while the other guy met a woman and fell madly in love with her as an adult.

Suddenly they realized they weren’t really gay after all. 

The men are crying us a river, claiming that they had come out of the closet as homosexuals too early in life, only to realize they were wrong, and faced embarrassment among loved ones for ceasing to be gay.


This is just craziness.

What I find remarkable is that both men only “decided” they were gay because of outside influences. The comedian wasn’t gettin’ any chicks, but he had men galore to choose from, due to that whole man-magnet quality of his.

Hell, he didn’t become gay, he became lazy. Chasin’ skirts was too much trouble- he actually had to put forth an effort to land a chick- while men seemed to be falling all over him. He didn’t want to exert himself, so he went down the road that required less work, the road that allowed him to feel worshipped. It was good for his ego, and when he finally realized this shit had nothing to do with being gay and everything to do with him being lethargic, he snapped out of it and started pursuing the other kind of ass.

The exact same kind of shit happened to the kid whose football coaches were abusing him. His story reminds me of the proverbial little kid- the genius- who was told by all his teachers that he’s actually stupid. Doesn’t matter how flippin’ smart the kid is, if you tell him he’s dumb- or in this case gay- for long enough, he’s going to start believing it. Of course his belief doesn’t change reality- just because people convince him he’s dumb or gay doesn’t actually make him dumb or gay. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t matter at that point, and this kid’s truth became, “well, everyone keeps saying I’m gay… so wow, I really must be!”

The result is a really screwed up and confused child- and later, a really screwed up and confused adult- that no longer knows who or what the hell he really is. Finally the poor guy figured out that just because some asshole says the sky is orange, that doesn’t really make it orange. Lo and Behold, he found himself cured.

The blog does a complete disservice to homosexuals… and quite frankly, makes me seriously question the intelligence of those who are actually buying into this crap.

What the hell is so threatening about gay people, who just like straight people, did not choose their sexuality? I mean what, do we think it’s contagious? We gotta quarantine those queers so they don’t spread their disease our way?

Are we really that threatened by people who have a different personal understanding of themselves? I mean, what, are same sex couples secretly plotting to take over the world, with the only hope of stopping them being their ultimate destruction?


Or better yet, are straight people, just by virtue of the fact that we aren’t gay, somehow morally superior? Speaking for myself, I find that highly unlikely… I may not have slept with any women in my life, but I’m willing to bet God’s frownin’ pretty hard on half the men I’ve been with. Hell, He probably wishes He’d made me gay- that way I’d have had no interest in that one guy… or shoot- that other one… yikes- better quit while I’m ahead.

I’ve said it before, and it’s worth repeating:

God does not care what method we use to achieve orgasm.

He’s got bigger fish to fry…


Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Relationships, Single Mom

First Dates, P. Diddy and Production Studios

I hate first dates. They are awkward and weird and I really just wish there was some way to avoid them altogether… without just not dating at all, of course.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could just skip past those few embarrassing (and let’s face it, downright scary) initial meetings and move straight to the part where you’re actually comfortable around one another?

Usually, even if I end up liking the guy in question, I tend to feel the need to fast forward through the first three dates.

This is when the situation is most perilous, and boy is the pressure on. 

During this time things could still go either way very easily… and I know if he gets food stuck in his teeth, has bad breath or propositions me for sex, he’s toast.


I have serial dater friends that love those first few meetings with a new guy. They get high off of the adrenaline rush that’s produced by the prospect of finding new love… only to get tired of him after a few weeks- at which point they repeat the cycle with someone new, over and over again.

They call this fun.

I call it torture. Seriously.

I haven’t had the best of luck in the search for my dearly beloved…

There was the guy who just couldn’t commit, no matter what- his famous quote was, “Just be patient…” but when it came time to actually go for it, he never could quite pull the trigger.

Then there was “Be Patient” guy’s polar opposite- the one who wanted to move in with me after only physically laying eyes on me twice. Shit- he didn’t see the need to be patient at all.

Is there not a happy medium?

Next came the guy I thought I was meeting for dinner… only due to a mix up via text message… in showing up realized not only was he not the guy I thought I had made the date with, but was someone whose name I didn’t even know.

It was slightly uncomfortable when the main course arrived and I still had no idea who I was dining with.

That was strike one for internet dating. I realized that for the life of me, I couldn’t keep these people straight. I had to resort to keeping track of them via spreadsheet.

Not exactly romantic.

After that, there were several men back-to-back who after a few times out revealed they lived with their parents and were unemployed… in spite of being 35 years old.

In between those guys were men who kept trying to impress me by claiming to be the next P. Diddy- with their “production studios” in their basements. They scoffed at such things as traditional employment, having their own place and owning a car… claiming their big break was just around the corner…


I’ll never forget the people I met while out and about who asked me for my phone number, told me they were interested in me… only to later admit that they still have girlfriends… “not to worry”, they’d tell me, “I’m getting ready to dump her… I just wanted to find a replacement first”.

Ugh. As if finding a relationship is like shopping for car insurance. We certainly don’t want a lapse in coverage… err… girlfriends!

I suppose I wasn’t anticipating the challenges I’ve had… I thought the things I was looking for were pretty simple, really. 

I don’t want to get remarried, and I don’t want any more kids. I’m not looking for anything too serious… I want someone to spend time with when my daughters are at their dad’s house. I’m not looking for another father for my children, hell, I’m not even looking to introduce anyone to them…

When I try to communicate this to potential dates, they often misunderstand me, as apparently when a woman says she’s not looking for anything serious, this sounds like “I am only looking for sex.”

In spite of it all, I have decided to give this thing another try… I guess I need you to wish me luck, and usher the fairies of Positive Dating Experiences my way… cuz here I go again.

Posted in C-Haze, Children, Dating, News, Race, Relationships, Single Mom

The Black Epidemic

I saw an article today that made my blood run cold.

In certain areas of the U.S., black HIV/AIDS infection rates rival that of rates in some African nations.


I had to let that sink in for a few minutes.

In this country, even though blacks only represent one in eight people, 80% of new HIV cases are coming out of the black community. In fact, in Washington, 5%- or one in twenty- black people are currently infected with the virus.

Right now African Americans account for over 50% of all U.S. HIV infections.

This is absolutely horrifying.

AIDS is now the number one killer of blacks. Number one. Not heart disease or cancer. Not car accidents.


If black Americans made up their very own nation, they would have more people infected with HIV than both Ethiopia and the Ivory Coast- combined.

Why are these numbers so high within our own community, as compared to others?

Some research shows that people of African descent have inherited a gene variant that makes us up to 40% more likely to become infected if exposed.

The key words here are if exposed.

If we do not allow ourselves to be exposed than we have no risk of getting this disease.

Gene variant or not, we are not behaving ourselves. We are not acting responsibly, and too often when our behavior leads to dire consequences, we are not accepting responsibility.

We become sneaky, we are in denial.

After attempting to absorb all the numbers, all I can think about is my daughters.

What does all this mean for my little girls and their future?

My two beautiful black-women-in-training are in terrible danger.

I can preach- shout from the rooftops- all day long about the importance of abstinence, or at the very least, condoms, but at the end of the day, when they’re out on their own, charged with making their own decisions, will it do any good?

Will they listen?

Is anyone listening? It certainly doesn’t sound like it.

I guess at this point all I can do is beg each of you to talk to your children- even if the conversation is an uncomfortable one.

Lead by example… we all need to be safe and responsible. We need to take proactive measures to prevent the further spread of this disease… and for those people for which proactive measures are too late, please- get tested, seek treatment… and be honest with everyone- potential partners, current partners, everyone.

I realize that there’s a terrible stigma that comes with being HIV positive, but millions of people’s lives- children’s lives, as well as our own- depend on knowing the frank, honest truth.

Please. Do what’s right, even as it may be a difficult task.

For my children’s sake and yours.

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Funny, Humor, Relationships, Single Mom

Doctors, Blue Eyes and Divorce

Visits to the doctor have the potential to be embarrassing enough as it is.

This visit, however, was the visit from hell.

So I’m waiting on that stupid bed/table thingy they make you sit on, with nothing on but that dumb hospital gown… feeling exposed, and more than a little ridiculous.

The doctor comes in… he’s some Indian guy with blue eyes. Who ever heard of such a thing?! Blue eyes? That can’t be natural.

He’s viewing my chart, sees that I’ve had a touch of the depression lately, and that I may have gained a pound or two recently. 

He starts looking me up and down…

“So, looks like you’ve both gained a few pounds and gotten divorced in the past year, huh?”

I nod in the affirmative… the last 18 months have been rough… so maybe I ate a few too many french fries to get through it.

Sue me.

The doctor says to me, “I just don’t understand. Not only should you be happy to have gotten rid of your hubby- not depressed- but you should have lost weight- not gained it! You’re on the market now!”

Woah. I think he’s serious.

I hate him.

I ponder, can I actually kick him in the shin and get away with it?

Probably not.


In my fantasy world, this doctor is a big fat ugly cow… who’s divorced… and broke… with lots of bills to pay… and very depressed… and can’t seem to stop gaining weight.

Oh- and fuck the blue eyes.

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Relationships

A Good Reason to Stay Single

Ever since my divorce was final, I knew I would never again marry.

I pretty much based that decision on the bad taste my first marriage left in my mouth… kinda like morning breath on steroids.

In a word, it sucked.

Sure, it was nice to have someone to share the everyday burdens of life with. I liked being able to hand the kids off to him when I was completely out of patience and ready to wring their adorable little necks. I especially liked having someone around to change both my oil and the lightbulbs as needed.

As for the sex… well… nevermind.

Ultimately though- at the end of the day- the cons outweighed the pros… ten-fold.

I walked away from my divorce knowing two things- one, I was going to throw a party because it was finally over- and two, I was never and I mean never getting married again.

That’s why I found it interesting when I came across this article on msnbc. Reading it completely re-affirmed my reasons to never again do the aisle-walk thing.

Here’s another set of published stats to check out… this crap is just plain scary.

Interestingly, the timing of my coming across the msnbc article as well as the corresponding stats was perfect.

Just yesterday a dear friend of mine found out her sweetie pie had been cheating on her for the past 7 months.

She got him back… and while I don’t always condone revenge, I gotta say this one had it coming.

My friend wasn’t married… and if you read the stats, unmarried couples in monogomous relationships face the same fidelity challenges. 

Maybe, just maybe, humans aren’t meant to mate with “that one special person” for life.

Personally, I don’t like the odds, so I think I’d rather not play the game.

Back in the day, when I was younger and dumber, I remember being cheated on. It sucked more than words can describe.

It was a horrific ordeal, and I would rather stab myself in the eye with hot pokers than go through it again.

Luckily for all of us, it seems I don’t need to get into too much detail with regards to the pain infidelity causes… as the article states, approximately 1 in 5 of you, dear readers, have experienced this horrific ordeal yourselves.

To add insult to injury, it appears that of all these cheatin’ asses out there, only 2% ever actually get caught.

Therefore, as for my willingness to go there and get involved in a relationship again… 

No thank you.

I remember all too vividly the pain of realizing the one and only person I had ever trusted was being anything and everything but faithful.

Do it once, shame on them- do it twice, shame on me.

Some pals of mine say I’m just bitter… well, yea, I guess I am.

But for once, I have the numbers on my side, backin’ my ass up.

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, News, Relationships

Jilted Lovers, Clarence Thomas, Derek Jeter and Big Feet

Quite a while back I heard a news story about a whole bunch of black men who were receiving hate mail after they had been seen in the company of white women.

In reading the story, though I can’t recall where I originally saw it, I remember thinking…


This nonsense had been going on for over 20 years, and the letters threatened such nastiness as castrations and explosions.

The men receiving the letters were all either black or bi-racial, though they were young and old, rich and poor. In fact, Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas got one, as did Yankees player Derek Jeter (he’s halfrican- like me)… (!!!)

Well, they finally caught the guy who was doing it.

According to this story , the guy sending the letters is a man whose girlfriend originally left him for a black man.


That’s quite a motive.

The FBI, in spite of their top dogs having profiled this most-special man, never considered the angle of a jilted lover.

I guess the pain of being left for someone else was bad enough… the fact that he was left for a black man just added insult to injury.

When he was caught, he told the FBI that they just wouldn’t understand, unless the same thing had happened to them.


I suppose I can’t really comment then, right? I’ve never been left by my one true love for a black man… I guess that kinda disqualifies me as an expert on the subject… tho I have left plenty o’ men, ultimately trading up to a… ahem… blacker model.

To my knowledge, I’ve never had any guy say, “Well, it woulda been cool, had ya just left me for a white guy… but cuz this new man in your life is black… I’m downright insulted…”

Well, hang on- there was that one guy who told me after we broke up that he betta not ever catch me with a black man…

Does that count?

Must be an ego thing… black men are known for their larger… err… feet, after all.

Regardless, ol’ boy pleaded guilty to a bunch of stuff regarding the mailing of threatening communications. He’s lookin’ at twenty-somethin’ years behind bars.

Poor thing.

Overcrowded and racially… uh… slanted… as the jails are right now… I think he’s about to find out (first hand, no less!!) exactly why his one true love left his ass to begin with.

Ow ow!!

Ahhh… the irony.

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Race, Relationships

Let’s Fix It

As I’m sure all mothers do, I worry about my daughters. Like everyone, my concerns range from their physical health to their happiness and emotional well-being.

By far, my biggest concerns are for their future.

I worry what we are teaching my daughters. Am I doing my part to teach them how to choose a partner that won’t abandon them when they get pregnant, or at the first sign of trouble? Or will my actions, my mistakes, result in their making the same errors in judgment that I did?  

Beyond that, what are the boys that will someday be men- and possibly their husbands- currently being taught? Are they being raised in abusive homes? Are their fathers present in their lives? Are these young men being taught to treat my daughters as Queens, with all the respect they deserve?

Unfortunately, it is a very real concern that my babies may wind up in some very painful, destructive life-relationships. The have several “risk factors”- they are the product of divorce, they have witnessed their father’s varying degrees of abusive behavior, they have seen me struggle and freak out as a single mother- and have witnessed more of my own mistakes than they ever should have. In addition, as beautiful black-women-in-training, they have the weight of a broken, wounded society on their shoulders. Not only will they have the responsibility of thriving in an unforgiving and unfair world, but they will ultimately be charged with selecting a man to share their journey with.

The men they will have to choose from are young boys right now, who by and large were born into unmarried homes- currently, that number is over 70% in black families. Boys who are being raised by over-stressed single mothers, and likely- MOST likely- have no fathers around to help with the load (according to the numbers, more than half). Boys who, like my daughters, struggle each and every day, next to their mothers, seeing a scary side of the world that they never should have had to experience.

My daughters are part of a generation in which black men are more likely to be shot than they are to graduate high school. This generation is one in which 10% of black males, aged 25-29 are incarcerated.

I love my heritage, I love my daughters’ heritage, and I love that as black women they will be among the most beautiful, gifted, strongest people on earth. I would never dream of changing their race if given the chance- only their circumstances- circumstances that both myself and this society allowed to become theirs. While I will love and accept my daughters no less, should they choose non-black men as their partners, I would be so proud if they were to choose a wonderful, loving black man. Studies show they’re likely to marry within their race… and that is one statistic that I am not disappointed to read. I love all people, and have the blood of no less than three races coursing through my own body. If my children choose to marry outside or their race, I pray that such a decision would be a matter of the heart, and not because all of these sobering statistics proved true, and they had little, if any, choice.

For them, for my daughters and your sons, we all need to do our part, and start fixing this.

*special thanks to Roland S. Martin, for providing the numbers

Posted in C-Haze, Dating, Funny, Humor, Relationships

My Boss and Me

I fear I will never be able to look my supervisor in the eye.

Once I’m done writing this, I will need to perform a full brain scrub. The sooner I can accomplish this, the better.

Long story short, my boss’s son has flashed me. Unbeknownst to me, the guy I have been chatting with online, whom I had yet to actually meet, is her son. It isn’t just that he’s her son… he actually still lives with her. I’ve seen pics of him sitting on her desk. I never put two and two together until he asked me where I work… he had a weird reaction when I told him… come to find out, Mommy works with me. No, Mommy doesn’t just work with me. I WORK FOR MOMMY. Great.

I refused to continue chatting with him when I realized who his mother is. His mom was the one that had to approve the week-plus I had to take off work in 2006 because my ex-husband had been stalking me, ultimately beating the crap out of me. She was also the one that had to approve my long term absence in 2007 so that I could attend rehab. She knows my dirty secrets! Can you imagine what this woman would have done to me, had she ever found out that her son, her baby boy, was even considering taking me out? I’m certain I’m not the woman she envisioned her pride and joy bringing home to her. Yikes.

How does this stuff happen to me?!?!

More importantly, WHY, moments after learning that we are linked by way of his mother, did he feel the need to do this? He did it because he thought it would change my mind. If he could get me to see his, uh, assets, maybe I’d give him a chance. He’s crazy of course. I value my job way more than I value any assets he might have.

On this particular day I’m at work… actually concentrating on the job at hand for once, when it happens.

My phone vibrates, and I realize I have received a text from him. I open the message, and it’s actually a picture. Please keep in mind, again, that I am sitting mere feet away from his MOTHER.

The picture is one he has taken of himself. Him in all his glory. Butt-naked, full-on frontal nude shot.

I was mortified. Still am. My supervisor wonders why I suddenly began looking at her feet whenever I have to talk to her.

God willing, she will never learn.