03.12.13

Monday Dare: Drugs? Yes, please.

druglove
Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the click to see the complete list of Monday Dares or to learn more about its origin.

This week: Drugs. Take some.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard, “Holy smokes, I can’t believe you’re still alive, homegirl!” I would have a lot of money. Not Car Money but somewhere in the neighborhood of Name Brand Lip Gloss Money. This is not to say that I don’t appreciate the Disney Fairies Lip Gloss Compact that Cal gave me last year, but I get a little nervous every time I pull it out in public to touch up my pout. I can tell from some of the wayward glances I’ve been getting that it’s a hot ticket item. Thank god my purse has a secure zipper top.

The people who find my aliveness (word? not a word?) so noteworthy are folks I knew back in the day. My first instinct when I see these Party People From My Past is to run. Which I have done. If we happen to make eye contact, I try to be pleasant with a little smile or a gang sign and pray that they don’t come over for a chat. Which they do.

It surprises me that they recognize me at all. I look different. I am no longer that girl with the stringy, brittle hair and the acne brought on by not washing my face for three or four days in a row because I was too high to give a shit about a consistent exfoliate + cleanse + tone + moisturize routine. None of my clothes have cigarette burn holes. All of my shoes fit.

And I feel different. My intentions are not stitched together with ulterior motives. I no longer build friendships based on the quality of the eight ball of cocaine the other person has to offer. My feelings are no longer buried under a mound of cocaine, crack, speed, ecstasy, LSD, benzos, prescription pain killers, prescription cough syrup, or anything else I could grind up and snort, smoke, or chug.

But most of the people who only knew me when I was rooting around in the filth of my flimsy decisions will always see me as That Girl.

I don’t bother to explain to them that these days, That Girl rarely keeps alcohol in the house. And That Girl tries to act like a motherfucking hero by refusing Advil when she has a headache because she is afraid of becoming addicted. She has never heard of anyone becoming addicted to Advil, and she would like to keep it that way.

I don’t want to be That Girl. I am now This Woman.

As This Woman, I’m certain that I’ll still make the wrong choices sometimes, but it won’t be because I don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone, including myself. I give lots of fucks about lots of fucking things.

I’ve shied away from putting anything into my body because of my addictive personality, but I don’t think that’s the right solution for me anymore. I’m okay with doing drugs again. Like, the legal kind from Costco. I trust myself.

And besides, the last I heard, my dealer got out of the hustle. I guess we both got tired of being That Girl.
____

P.S. Big ups to everyone for being so supportive of the new Flourish in Progress radio show! Podcasts of the first few episodes are now available. This one is my favorite so far because I share my best piece of life advice: Every time you go to a strip club, pretend it’s your first time. I guarantee you’ll get great service.

P.P.S. Most of the Baby Those Thug Lips lip balm in Buttercream and Peppermint from the Hood Goods store are gone, but there are a few left. People, these balms are the bomb. If you’d like to order one, check out the page and drop me a line.

Stay connected on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page or on Instagram (username: flourishinprogress) for lots of random shit. Some of it is funny. Some of it is just stupid and pointless. Wow, that was a really horrible sales pitch.

image via blueq.com
March 12, 2013
12.04.12

Monday Dare (& Giveaway!): I see you on that Facebook Grind

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or to learn more about its origin.

This week: Put down the goddamn phone

Sometimes, I like to play “What Would You Save If Your House Were Burning Down And You Could Only Take Three Things And Don’t Say Your Heirloom Dining Room Table Cuz Ain’t No One Strong Enough To Carry A Goddamn Solid Oak Table” with my friends. I’ve overheard a few snickers and complaints about the length of the title, but I don’t let it get to me. Hateful words often stem from jealousy. Not everyone has a flair for Game Naming.

My mint-condition collection of Yo! MTV Raps trading cards were part of My Three until recently when I had all the good ones matted and framed. I’ll be the first to admit my physical limitations. My shoulder muscles aren’t developed enough to carry an extremely large Rap Shrine.

I’d save Cal’s baby book even though I stopped updating it when she was four months old because clearly, I’m just too lazy to do even one thing right for my only child. Whenever friends and family ask to see recent pictures of Cal, I just tell them to “Facebook that shit, motherfucker.”

I thought about saying some socially acceptable answers for my other items, but that’s not how our friendship works, and I honor that.

I would save my iPhone. Everyone always responds with three items, but I don’t need that many. When you’ve got a mostly empty baby book and your best friend, what more do you need?

Vincent (don’t even try to pretend that your phone doesn’t have a name too) and I have been through a lot. We recently took a trip to San Francisco together:

I saved this picture on my computer as BestBuddies.jpg. It probably would have been a much better shot if my three friends from the Ghetto Genius Crew weren’t crowded around us. Jay Wunder, the Ghetto Genius himself, wrote afterwards on his site:Flo-Rich was glued to her fucking phone Facebooking, Twittering and Instagramming so much that Anonymous pulled her ass to the side and said she was two posts away from a goddamn intervention. 

I made an effort to keep Vincent in my purse the next evening, but my hands weren’t used to being unoccupied. My ears weren’t used to the silence. The constant ding of emails and texts and tweets and notifications from Facebook and Instagram and Words with Friends and phone calls and weather alerts is what lets me know I’M ALIVE, BITCHES.

I slipped away and locked myself in a bathroom stall. Maybe I took too long, but I’m sure there are perfectly good explanations for being in a public restroom for 47 minutes, none of which I could think of when I heard a knock on the stall door: “I SEE YOU ON THAT FACEBOOK GRIND. PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE.”The first step is admitting I have a problem. That’s what I learned from my friend H-Bomb during my intervention inside the women’s restroom at O’Reilly’s

___
I FUCKING LOVE PRESENTS giveaway #3

I fucking love presents. Maybe you do too. To celebrate this holiday season, I’ll be doing a giveaway each week until the end of the year. Get connected on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page, on Instagram (username: flourishinprogress), and on Twitter (@ElizabethJLiu) for giveaway updates, (t)hug life thoughts, pictures, and other random shit.

This week: MNKR “Fuck the Fuckers” T-shirts Giveaway

I proudly wear this t-shirt in public all the time. Except when I have to go to PTA meetings. Then, I’ll throw a delicate cardigan over it, and all you can read is “UC H CKE.” Yesterday, I bumped into Kandace, one of the brains behind MNKR’s fierce line of apparel and accessories, and she generously offered TWO Fuck the Fuckers t-shirts (one women’s, one men’s) for this giveaway. Thanks, Kandace!

TO ENTER: Leave a comment below with the three things you would save if we were playing “What Would You Save If Your House Were Burning Down And You Could Only Take Three Things And Don’t Say Your Heirloom Dining Room Table Cuz Ain’t No One Strong Enough To Carry A Goddamn Solid Oak Table.” Only comments left on THIS POST qualify. I’ll announce a winner next Monday.LAST WEEK’S SKULL NECKLACE WINNER: Danielle with the numbers 0212 in your email address. Please email me at flourishinprogress at gmail dot com.

first image via pinterest
December 4, 2012