Truffle Butter

I ain’t gotta compete with a single soul

I’m good with the ball, point game, finger roll

Ask me how to do it, I don’t tell a single soul

Pretty women, wassup? Is ya here right now?

You a stand-up or is you in your chair, right now?

Uhh, do ya hear me?

I can’t let a wack nigga get near me

I might kiss the baddest bitch, if you dare me

I ain’t never need a man to take care of me

Yo, I’m in that big boy bitches can’t rent this

I floss everyday, but I ain’t a dentist

Your whole style and approach I invented

And I ain’t takin’ that back, cause I meant it

– Nicki Minaj feat. Drake and Lil Wayne


I was asked to participate in an interview for our internal website. The “Employee Spotlight” section of our Homepage is a place where one employee can go to read four or five fun facts about another employee. The interviews are conducted by a peer, the questions are random, and the answers are candid.

I was flattered when I received the initial email from our sweet receptionist, Margaret, asking if I would participate. I love this kind of stuff. I am the type of person that just assumes no one knows my name, who I am, or that I even exist. On the other hand, because people have always been such assholes to me on account of how I look, I also assume everyone thinks I’m an unapproachable idiot.

Anywho, I was so looking forward to this interview. “What is he going to ask? Will he be able to accurately capture my essence? I wonder what kind of comments I’ll get once this thing is posted? Will the people love me? I hope he’s cute.” On interview day, I was sure to dress like a lady. Okay, so, maybe I wore leather leggings. But at least I made the effort to throw on pants…

It was a beautiful Thursday. Tuesday? It was a beautiful Tuesday.

Naturally, I sashayed into the meeting room – like the superstar that I am.

No one was there.

I was a Tom Cruise without my Oprah. The couches were warm, my feet were getting itchy, but there was absolutely no one around to profess my love to. This was just my fucking luck. I would get some cut-rate Brian Williams-type who couldn’t even find the goddamn meeting room. Fanfuckingtastic. What next? Was I going to have to pour my own glass of water too?

I sighed and watched the sail boats out of the window. “At least my publicist managed to set up a room with a decent view,” I thought to myself, “The snacks (a bowl full of mints and other assorted hard candies) aren’t anything to write home about but at least the view’s nice.”

After an excruciatingly long three minutes, Charles arrived. I scolded him on keeping a celebrity of my stature waiting. He gravelled at my feet and offered up his first born son. I declined. “Please, Cha-ales,” I cooed, “You know I only have affections for puppies and piglets.”


I’m getting off on a tangent here.

Okay, so, none of that happened. Well, the part about me being early – or on time, rather – to my interview is true. Everything else though? Embellishment. To make a long story even longer, here we are six weeks later and they haven’t even posted my article. I’d like to think it’s because someone, somewhere is too busy creating a microsite for me. You know, since I’m so entertaining.

But it’s more likely that my interview is still held up in the HR censoring process.

Attached below is my Q and A:


1. What is your favorite thing to do in San Diego?

Honestly, it’s kinda lame, but I just like to walk around downtown. I’m from a really small town on the East coast. So, I can really appreciate being able to walk literally everywhere.


2. Where has been your favorite travel destination?

I have driven across the country a couple times. The first time I drove from NC to CA was when my best friend moved out to San Diego, and then again when I moved out here. I have been out of the country a few times too; however, I always go back to those cross-country trips. It sounds corny, but a trip like that really makes you proud of our country – how clean it is, how different it is from state-to-state, etc. I will never forget seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time.


3. Where would you like to go on vacation?

I really want to go to Egypt! I’ve always been obsessed with ancient Egypt, and mummies, and the pyramids. People think I’m crazy when I say I want to go there though…


4. If you won the lottery, what would be next for you?

Well, I don’t currently play the lottery, so I’d have to start there… but the first thing I would do if I won is buy my parents two houses: one in the middle of nowhere and a house at the beach. My dad has always wanted to live on 40 acres in the middle of the woods – mainly, because he doesn’t like people. The beach house is for my Momma. We rent a beach house every year for our family vacation. She loves the idea of buying one – just doesn’t want to pay the taxes and insurance. And then, I would use the rest of the money to travel on… because let’s get real, that’s probably the best way to avoid getting murdered for my millions (uhh, we’ve all seen that show on TLC…).


5. What movie character/celebrity do you think you are most like?

My little sister tells me I remind her of Amy Schumer, from Trainwreck. But I saw that dumb movie and I think I’m way funnier… so, she can suck it.


6. What do you absolutely hate doing? Why?

I really hate driving. I’m terrible at it. I’ve been in, oh, seven-ish accidents… the last few, though, totally not my fault! I need a chauffeur! I hate doing laundry and I hate cleaning floors. My dog (a basset hound) sheds, so, I feel like I am constantly cleaning. Finally, I hate adult stuff, like: taxes, insurance, car maintenance, etc.



I had a lot of fun with the “Employee Spotlight” interview. Then again, I always loved taking those MySpace surveys back in the day and posting them all up on my profile. So, what better way to 1. Throw it back 2007 style and 2. Answer some of the top 150 (or so) questions I get every. effing. day. than do an MC FAQ!


Holy hell look at that ingenuity, people!

Alright, here we go:


1. How are you doing? No, seriously. How are you doing? [insert sympathetic, “oh poor pitiful you eyes” here]

I am doing good. Really, really well, actually. And not in a “I’m-just-saying-that-so-you’ll-get-off-my-fucking-back-already” kind of way either. I mean it in a “I’m-doing-really-fucking-awesome-that-is-all-thanks” kind of way. No seriously, I’ve been in a good headspace for a long while now – probably the longest run I’ve had since I was in high school. I feel good. My outlook on life is positive. So positive at times, I fucking annoy myself.


2. When are you moving home? Can you please move home now?

No thanks. Hahaha. I always tell people, “It just depends on how lonely I get. Regardless, I will never be back in Hickory.”

Let me elaborate: Making friends at this age is difficult. You aren’t really put in any situations conducive to making new friendships. Often times, you want to keep work relationships at work. And going out alone never seems to attract the right crowd. There aren’t clubs you can join, or classes to take, or play-groups to attend. Of course, you could go to the gym, or church, or AA. But I’m not into all that bullshit. So, here we are. Just chatting up my fellow puppy Mommas in the courtyard, picking up dog poop, and dreaming of the day someone adds “Tinder Too: For the Hot ‘n Friendless” to the App store.

Concerning the other piece, the part about me never moving back to my hometown. It just is what it is. I think we all can agree that I never really “fit” there. I have said my whole life that I’ve never felt “at home” in North Carolina. No hate on the HKY, or anything. It was a great place to grow up. I just know I can be much happier in other places.


3. How do you like living in California?

Not a day goes by that I don’t think to myself, “I cannot. believe. I actually live here.” I love living in California. I love everything about living in San Diego – the beach, the weather, the people, the food, the beer, the close proximity to Disneyland, etc. The day I decide to leave California, my heart will break. She has welcomed me with open arms and I honestly feel at home in this beautifully, ass-backward state.


4. Is it expensive out there?

Yes. No. I mean, it’s comparable to living in most other cities throughout the country. Am I still paying a $400 mortgage/rent bill each month? Uhh. Negative. But, if I had moved to Charlotte, my cost of living would have dramatically increased from what I was accustomed to as well. At least here I have sea lions.



5. What do you do for a living?

I am a technical writer for an anti-virus software company.


6. What exactly does a technical writer do?

I write procedures on how to use my company’s software. These procedures are often translated into many different languages, published on our website, and viewed by millions of customers online.


7. Cool! How do you even get into something like that?

For starters, I knew a guy who knew a girl, who knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew a girl. Seriously though, I used to do technical writing for Lowe’s Hardware (the Big Blue Box) when I worked for their corporate office in Wilkesboro and Mooresville, North Carolina. When I left last year, I was an analyst for their customer relationship management system. Yes, being an analyst was sexier and it paid better. But I missed technical writing. (Well, just writing for a living, in general.) So, I took a pay cut to get back into something I enjoyed doing more. My job here at, European Security Software company, differs drastically from the job I had at Lowe’s. At Lowe’s my processes were all internal – viewed by thousands of people, at most. Here, my processes are all external. Meaning, anyone can go to our website and view my work.


8. Are you seeing anyone special?

Okay, so, check it. I went through a spell of seeing a lot of not-so-special anyones. And sometimes, I saw them simultaneously. Hahaha. But after a few months, I realized I was only dating to appease other people. My heart just wasn’t in it. (Pun intended.) So, I stopped. I’m not the kind of person who has to be with someone to be happy. I like being alone. I like going out to dinner by myself. I like going on adventures on my own. I like not having to be responsible for another person and their feelings. I like not worrying myself to death if he’s going to text, or call, or like me, etc. Do I get lonely? Yes. But I’d rather not be in a relationship right now.


9. Why not?

I struggled for a long time with this answer. Not because I didn’t have one (an answer). But because, for the longest time, the right words just weren’t there. I couldn’t formulate the right response. I never could convey with words what my heart was feeling. And then, Tyler got engaged. Suddenly, the words I had been looking for filled my mind and tumbled right out of my mouth.

I remember laying in bed. It was dark. I was staring at my vertical blinds, “Never,” I blurted out, “Never in a million years could I ever imagine myself being engaged right now. [Shivers.]”

Please bare with me as I try to get through this response, as I expect it to be lengthy…

For so long, I prayed for only one thing – normalcy. I wanted a steady, even, calm life. A life with very few ups and downs. I wanted still waters. I can remember talking to my very best friends and asking them, “Is there a life where people are just happy? Where things are just, you know, okay?”

Well, over the last however many months, my prayers have been answered. I am steady. Even. Calm. I am okay. I feel as though I have finally caught my balance. In my mind, I am no longer on that never-ending roller coaster ride. There are very few really high, highs and extremely low, lows. I am still.

For someone who struggles with anxiety and depression, you have absolutely know idea what sort of relief that provides.

However, with relief comes sacrifice.

I have wanted to be in this frame of mind so desperately, for so long, that I am willing to sacrifice any potential new relationship just to protect my mental health. I don’t want to feel all the feelings right now. I don’t want to deal with the anxiety, and the liking, and the anticipation, and the newness, and the disappointment, and the awkwardness at this very second. I don’t want to give anyone my heart, or responsibility of my feelings, or the spare key to my apartment. I don’t want to share my bed.

I just want to take a moment and bask in my – uhh, umm – nothingness?

Basically, I don’t want to risk fucking up my stillness, my calm – my goddamn zen – for some new and improved asshole. I’m good. I’m self-sufficient. I’m happy, and healthy, and hot, and I am perfectly capable of buying my own dinner, thanks.

But if Soulmate comes along…

Ugh, whatever.

Alls I’m sayin’ is, that bastard better not come empty handed.


10. So, if you don’t date, and you don’t have friends… then, uhhh, what do you do?

Watch a lot of TV. Eat a lot of snacks. Nap. I really should get out more.


11. You say you eat a lot of snacks… but you look like you’ve lost weight. ‘Sup with that?

I have. Well, I guess I have. My old clothes don’t fit, so that sucks. ‘Cause I’m poor. Too poor to replenish my wardrobe – again. Anywho, I’ve not been on a scale since I broke up with Tyler. But if I had to guess, I’ve probably lost about 275… ish… pounds. Kidding! I kid. Hahaha. You know, cause I broke up with him. Get it? Hahaha. Ha. No, seriously, I really haven’t been on a scale in over a year. I have went down, like, six pants sizes though. Even better news, my boobs have stayed pretty much intact. So, that’s fucking awesome.


12. What are you doing differently?

Nothing, really. I still stay clear of gyms, physical activity, and sweating. I still eat like shit, keep candy on me at all times, and drink regularly. I ate Easy Mac and an Oatmeal Cream Pie for lunch today. For reals.

Okay, so no shit – and I know this is going to sound so fucking annoying but I’m serious as the fucking heart attack that will most likely kill me at 35 – I’m the poster kid for how mental health can affect you physically.

During the last two years of my relationship, I gained, like, 60 pounds. Yes. Sixty. That’s how bad it was. That’s how bad I was. Within the last year, I’ve probably lost 20-30 pounds. I have changed nothing. I still eat like crap, nap like a fucking infant, drink, and refuse to get off my lazy ass. So, you do the math.


13. Is that why you’re taking all those nekkid pictures now? Because you’re so skinny?

Yes and no. Someone asked me recently, “You trying to get a rise out of us dudes?? 🙂 No pun intended.” This was my response: “Hahaha not particularly. To be totally fucking honest… it’s just been a really long time since I’ve felt this damn good about myself. So, more for me than the boys. But if it brings them to my yard then I can’t complain!”

Here’s the deal, I’ve never been too terribly modest.

Oh stop with the shock and ahh-s already.

It’s no secret that I’m not ashamed of who I am.

Funny side story though: The other week, while we were at the beach, Mace asked me what we did at my Senior Week. I said, “Umm. All I can remember is being naked and drinking the entire seven days.” She looked at me shocked. “I wasn’t, like, naked naked. I just ran around in my underwear the whole time. You know how I am.” “Oh. Yeah. Gotcha.”

The long and short of it is – I’m feelin’ myself again. I have all of my confidence back. Plus, I don’t have anyone telling me I can’t post risqué pictures of myself anymore. Orrrr calling me fat, or a “beached whale”, or telling me I look pregnant, or promising to marry me if I loose weight, or betting me a boob job I can’t get back into my high school jeans, or going around saying to all of our friends how unattractive he thinks I am…



14. Ugh. Why would you stay with someone who treated you like that and said those kinds of things to you?

Love. I loved him more than I loved myself.


15. So glad you aren’t with him anymore. But you still write about him. Why do you still give him a platform? Don’t you worry he still reads your blog? Don’t you worry it makes you look like you still care?

No. No, no, and no.

If he still reads my blog (which I’m sure he does… and I’m sure she does too), more power to him!

I have nothing to hide. I never have. I only ever blocked them on social media last year to protect myself. I blocked them so I couldn’t see what he was up to. It never had anything to do with me hiding things from him. If that were the case, I would have de-friended his entire family (which he has done, not me), any mutual acquaintances (which he has done, not me), and tried to go on about my life pretending as if he never existed (again, which he has done, not me) a long time ago. But I’m over that. I got over that some time in October or November of last year… when I was refusing to go home for Thanksgiving for fear I would run into him.

That’s when it hit me: My disappearing act hadn’t made this any easier on myself. It had only made it easier on him. So, I yanked the curtain up and took my life back.

Something, like, 3 days later they blocked me.

Which I find so fucking bizarre, because 1. I have had ZERO contact with the man since June 12, 2015 – the last time he texted me. 2. I never did anything wrong. And if I did, I owned it. (Spoiler Alert: Same can’t be said for him.) 3. I have never, ever, ever, ever reached out to her. Actually, the only time we were ever in the same home together, she ran through the room I was sitting in just to get back and forth to the bathroom. [insert confused face here] 4. I am the best ex-girlfriend anyone could have. Don’t believe me? Ask my other ex-boyfriend and all of the girlfriends he has had since me. Hell, just ask them – they’ve all asked to be my friend on Facebook. One of them – his wife and soon-to-be baby momma (shout out to my sweet little D’Shawn: I can’t wait to kiss your cute baby tushie!!) – is even my BFF now. I directed their wedding, for fuck’s sake!

Whatever. You can’t win ’em all.

Getting back on topic…

As far as the other questions are concerned, look, this is real life. I’m not worried about whether or not he thinks (or she thinks) I still care – because I do.

We were together for a very long time. We had planned on getting married, and having children, and growing old together. But we didn’t. I didn’t leave him because I quit loving him anymore. I left because I couldn’t love him anymore. And as twisted, and fucked up, and bad, and terrible as our relationship was – as he was to me and I was to him – I will always love him. I will always care.

It sucks.

Of course it fucking sucks. It fucking sucks to see shit on the news about the Middle East – knowing that fool is in India – and having to text your best friends, “Ugh. When you hate your ex but he’s overseas and they’ve shut down all the airports in the country he’s in because of terrorist attacks. Goddamnit. Just sit your ass here so I can hate you from America, mother fucker.” It fucking sucks because after all this time, after all that shit, and after all his douche-baggery… you still couldn’t bare it if anything were to happen to his punk ass. And it fucking sucks even worse because people be gettin’ shot up in your city all the got.daymn. time but you know that shithead ain’t checkin’ no San Diego Sun Times for your obit.

I digress.

Lastly – and probably most importantly – no, no I am not giving him a platform.

I am giving you a platform.

Every single time I write a post-breakup blog I am overwhelmed with responses. Each entry receives at least 100 social media likes. I get sweet comments, and shares, and messages. I am bombarded with love. And then, people I have never had any sort of interaction with often feel compelled enough to send me private messages.

They tell me their stories. They tell me they have passed along my post to a friend who is having a hard time. They tell me they have saved specific passages and read them throughout the day for encouragement. They open up to me. They find my words to be a source of strength – the strength they need to get through a tough moment, or a tough few hours, or a tough week, or a tough time. They come to me.


A stranger.

Look, writing about him, and us, and me, and that time, and now isn’t how I want to spend my time. I would rather write about funny things. I would rather make you laugh. I would rather be light-hearted, and fun, and silly all the time. But the truth is, that’s. not. the truth. That isn’t life. This is what I am going through. This is what my Momma went through, and my best friends went through, and my Aunties went through, and my grandmothers went through. This is what you are going through.

I have just been blessed (cursed?) with the ability to put it down on paper better than most.

So, am I embarrassed? Am I ashamed, or afraid, or even brave for doing it?


I just own my shit.

Does that make me crazy?

Maybe so.

But I bet I sleep a whole helluva lot better than he does at night.



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