Lucky or cursed, malefic or manifested, ironic or destined; this is one such that I can only say that sometimes we cross paths with people by which there are lessons to teach –and lessons to learn (by both parties involved). Sometimes spirits connect because one or both have something to work out for themselves and often times, that work just can’t be done alone. Some people work out things for themselves through art—or their art imitates life.
Word on the die hard fan streets was that while it was widely known that Track 20 was about big bro, Track 11 was about friends who had passed on, 14 and 15 was about one, possibly two relationships in her past, perhaps (as a explanation to Track 1?) all that was missing was the perfect person in life to imitate the art of Track’s 12 and 13. Given the circumstances, that feat would take an above average intuitivist or telepath with a heightened sense of sensitivities or else it would simply just fly over one’s head.
She got the right one, baby. I’ll play.
Sure…definitely…the book was closed and cute until it was forced open and got ugly but we’ll get into that later into the excerpt drops, for now though, let’s lift that “velvet rope” shall we?
Come on in:
“If you embrace technology, but do it blindly, you may find less freedom-not more…”
1) a desire to satisfy the senses, bodily appetite 2) a sexual desire b) excessive sexual desire, especially as seeking unrestrained gratification 3) overmastering desire: as lust for power
No. This is aint no “fan fiction.” This is the true story:
[Cinamon] has entered the chat.
“The chat room was called “missJanetchatters,” hosted by the woman herself: ‘Janet.’
I entered the room like anybody else.
The first page asked me for my name, address and email address. I answered it honestly, by revealing my real first and last name, the PO Box where I get my mail, and the email address that was set up for me by the college I’d attended.
The next page asked me to enter my nickname and a password so that I could enter this room that I was dying to get into. “Cinamon,” I thought. Cinamon would be perfect for me-a name that described me perfectly and later on, took on a totally new meaning…
As for my password, I thought of something to definitely identify me truthfully and honestly, since I’d trusted her and loved her since I was a kid.
The next page showed a picture of her that was actually quite frightening. It had a pitch-black background with nothing but a picture of her face, which was pictured red, and her head was kind of tilted to the side. She had a look in her eyes as if you were about to travel into deep space or something. She wasn’t showing her pretty smile, nor was she frowning. She looked: seductive, and tempting-that’s the best way I could explain this look upon her face. I asked myself, “how could such a beautiful woman with the prettiest, most winning and innocent smile in the entire world take such a picture that sends something weird through you this way?” Because she also looked like she was up to something sneaky and wicked…
“Oh well, this is the Internet,” I said to myself; thinking about her, and how much I
loved her, I smiled anyways. The next words I saw read: “CHAT ROOM” and “ENTER,” I did just that.
When I entered, it looked like a totally different world to me, words words words was all I could see. So much emotion going on: Exclamation points, bold letters and colors. I was seeing things like: ROTFLMAO LMAO brb bbl mym (((((((Cinamon)))))))))) lol 😀 ;o 😮 😉 🙂 :p *looking at Cinamon, oic *gone *dust, J L and all kinds of chat “lingo.” Oh, I stand to be corrected. They are called “emoticons” in this world, sorry. It took me a while
to catch on to this new language, and boy was it driving me crazy.
I came into the room when it was 13 inches of snow on the ground around December 15, 1998. I was off from school for Christmas break, so I figured I’d have more than enough time to learn all that I didn’t know and understand. When my name appeared, the words before it read:
“New User: Welcome” [Cinamon]:
In my own virtual world, I’d envisioned myself walking into a room full of strangers who’d stop to speak to me and I’d introduce myself. From there, we’d talk about this wonderful woman who we all had in common-Janet. Even though I’d noticed they still talked about other celebrities, the focus pretty much stayed on Janet.
“I’m Angela, but you can call me Cinamon. I’m from the Midwest, and I attend college. My major is psychology. My sign is Cancer and I’m born in June…”
“Your sign!” I envisioned people asking me.
“Yeah, Cancer is my sign.” I know it sounds so 70’s-stating what sign you are, but I actually look for it whenever I meet new people. I mean, I usually don’t go, ‘hey what’s your name and what’s your sign?’ I have a way of finding out without having to sound so primitive you know? The reason why astrology interests me is because it has never failed me nor proved me wrong about every single person that has come my way. I am into the personality characteristics of astrology, not the daily horoscope kinda thingy. An astrological sun, moon and rising sign is something that tells what ones tendencies and probabilities are, as well as certain personality characteristics. I mean,
I know there are other things that determine a person’s personality such as environment and culture-which are learned, but astrology is first and innate because you are born into it. To find a rising sign, you’d have to know exactly what time you were born. To find a moon sign, you’d have to know the day and year of birth. The moon sign is the sign that rules ones feminine forces, and how you “identify” yourself emotionally. The rising sign is the sign that one projects to the world mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. The sun sign is the sign of the actual day you were born on, which is also like, the “core” or the front and center of who you are and what your tendencies are-your basic personality (“ego”tistically).
Astrology is just one of those things that I do not exclude when learning new things about people. To me, you never stop learning about people-ever. I enjoy learning people and have always had a sixth sense, if you will, about people and my surroundings. As my own personal rule, I never discount anything that is possibly insightful when trying to get to know and/or learn someone. I use astrology to have a better understanding of myself, just as I have an understanding of that a part of my makeup that has to do with my upbringing: my environment and my experiences.
One has to understand that a lot of what astrology speaks about is that of the “unevolved” person (which is where the negative traits and lists of things about the astrological sign are listed that could “break” the owner of it).
The “evolved” person is what astrology is speaking about when positive traits and lists of things about the astrological sign are listed that could “make” the owner of it.
One has to fully understand that astrology only tells of one’s tendency and what’s probable; it does not necessarily tell your future-that is the misconception, which is why and where astrology got its bad name. That is the reason why people call it the devils work and that is untrue. God is the only entity that knows and could foresee ones future. You and me (because of our own free will) make the final decision as to whether or not we will evolve and play on the positive aspects of astrology or not evolve and play on the negative aspects of it.
I wrote two books on interpersonal relationships that a woman went through with the people in her life and they are rather interesting. They both describe experiences that the young woman had gone through that led her to become a “sophisticated” woman. The first one deals with childhood, adolescent and adulthood experiences, and the readers are able to follow her throughout her life to see how she handled opposite sex relationships and determine whether her upbringing and experiences led her from innocence to naïveté’ to sophistication. The outcome is rather interesting.
The second book is storyline about a woman’s experiences from childhood throughout adulthood and the readers are able to follow her throughout her life to see how she handled same sex friendships and the readers get to determine whether or not society, and/or our own personal growth and development-or lack thereof, is to blame for the way women handle one another in friendships.
Of course, I wouldn’t even be me if I didn’t squeeze in an astrology book, written so that it gets the respect it deserves-but that’s later. In the meantime, I tend to refer to it because I’ve always been into it since I was a kid, so pardon me if it catches you off-guard. Once you begin to know me you’ll understand…
Anyways, every one that has read my work so far has told me that they found themselves in one or both of the books in some way or another, which was the goal of the books when I wrote them, so that makes me feel good.
I am a lover of poetry, literature, and my number one love is music. Music to me is a type of subconscious poetry. I’ve always loved music since before I can remember and have always been able to decipher every song’s meaning since I was a kid. I was one of those children who was wise beyond my years, ‘done been here before’ ‘had an old soul,’ as the old folks would say. As for why I am here? Well, I’ve always been a fan of Janet since I was a little kid. I wonder if she ever comes to this chat room, does she?”
…is what I envisioned myself saying to all these people in this chat room staring at me-the “New User” named [Cinamon]. But instead, all they said to me was: “(((((((((Cinamon))))))))) hey!” I frowned.
My response was: “Hey I’m Cin checkin’ in from Cincinnati Ohio!”
Everybody stopped their strange language and turned to me and said once again: “(((((Cinamon))))) from Ohio, hey!”
“How rude!” I thought. But I figured I’d better move myself to the back of the room and just watch the script, (that was called lurking), to see if and how I’d fit in, but before I did so, I had to ask, I had to: “I wonder if she ever comes to this chat room, does she?”
“Yes, yes she does,” said another chatter.
That made me happy. I couldn’t wait to see for myself…
For the first month, I’d gotten to know some of the regular chatters, and we’d get familiar with one another’s zodiac sign and all. Some people would be in there talking about their personal lives, others would be in there talking about Janet, Janet’s boyfriend, her dancers, as well as other celebrities. I’d be laughing and watching the script from the back of the room (lurking), but also learning things that I didn’t know or things that sorta interested me.
“This could be fun,” I thought, if only I could catch on to the lingo-I mean, the “emoticons,” and what they meant. That still confused me since day one.
One thing I did learn for a sure fact was that when Janet and/or her entourage: her boyfriend, the control/chat room employees, her assistants or one of the other dancers would enter the room, the word “authorized” would follow their name. They were the only ones privy to have “authorized” follow their names to identify their association with Janet when they’d come in and talk to the fans. They frequented the room quite often, from what I was told by the other chatters. They used various nicknames as well; normal nicknames, without the word “authorized” behind it. I heard they’d do this to trick people, and Janet was notorious for doing it too…
When using their “authorized” names, I learned that Janet’s boyfriends’ nickname was “Trickster,” her lead male dancer’s was “WiseOne,” her lead female dancer was “Butta,” her choreographer/other lead dancer was “Sleeper.” The woman who monitored and worked the chat room script from behind the screen used her real name as her nickname: “Larielle” or “LV” for short, I later learned…and the guy who worked with LV used his real name as well: Rico. Janet’s chat nickname was “Dunk,” and that was who I was dying to see…
During the whole month, I’d see WiseOne and Trickster a whole lot. They were both nice. I never met WiseOne in person, but I did meet Trickster in July ’94 at one of Janet’s concerts in Cincinnati, before she was due on stage. My friend Posh would go to see all Janet’s concerts with me. She was like the only friend of mine I could enjoy seeing Janet with. Trickster was standing over by the backstage gate with a big guy who’d caught my friend’s attention: “Angie! Angie! I hope you aint playin,’ I hope we are in our right seats ’cause those two guys with the security passes around ‘dey necks over ‘dere starin’ an’ney keep looking over here!”
I ignored her because she was sitting and I was standing and dancing; having a great time, pretending I’m a rapper just like the female rapper, who was performing on stage. She started kicking my leg and complaining again: “I think they are about to check tickets, I hope we are in our right seats. Girl I hope you aint lying just to get these seats near the stage!” she said once again. I stopped jamming to the female rapper, and looked over to my right at the ticket checkers with my eyes squinted. “You bum! You non-Janet fan! That is her boyfriend stupid! I’m ’bout to revoke your fan club membership!”
We laughed. I gave him eye contact and yelled “COME HERE!”
He and the big guy he was standing next to, was trying to figure out which one I was talking to. I just continued to pretend I was a rapper like the female MC, thinking that Trickster would figure out it was him I was talking to. A few minutes later, I look over to my right again and he was still standing there looking stupid. “You!” I pointed forcefully. “You are the one I am talking to.” He stepped away from the big guy and pointed to himself to be sure. “Yes you!” I demanded.
So he made his way over to where my friend and me were sitting. We he arrived, I made a joke to him about how Posh thought they were seat checking security guards and how I was gonna revoke her Janet club membership. He laughed and asked me if I was enjoying myself. I told him yeah, but that I couldn’t wait until Janet came out. He giggled and took a seat in front of us, and the three of us chit chatted about nothing, while watching the female MC.
The park wasn’t very crowded yet, and there were a lot of empty seats, so you could still hear each other and carry on a normal conversation while the female rapper was performing, so the three of us sat there shooting the breeze a while longer.
“Oh I almost forgot, let me get your autograph will you?” I asked.
“Sure, sure” he said. He looked almost surprised, and gave me a really sarcastic look as if to say, “why do you want my autograph?” My friend handed him a pen that exploded in his hand, while I searched for a piece of paper from my purse. He had on a cream-colored outfit, which after the pen exploded, made us feel like two lil’ dirty girls, dressed in jeans and dark shirts, next to his nice shirt and slacks that he could have gotten ink on. I felt bad, so I apologized.
“That’s okay, um, let me go wash this off okay?” he said.
“I’m really sorry, ugh we’re sorry,” I apologized again.
“No, it’s okay, I just need to go wash this off okay. I’ll come back to sign if for you,” he said.
“Okay thanks,” I responded.
By this time, the female rapper had been done with her show, and they were setting up for Janet. Trickster came back with his own clean pen and I pulled out paper I’d eventually retrieved from the bottomless pit of my duffle sac. He signed it and stated that he had to go back to help out with some things. As he walked away, some people in the area started asking who he was, and I was looking at them the way I looked at my friend Posh when she thought he was a security guard ticket checker. He could hardly make it back to the backstage gate without people asking for his autograph and to take pictures with him. He signed a few, but kept saying how he had to hurry and get back behind stage. We were laughing, because he looked stressed out. He looked back at us and sorta rolled his eyes as if to say: “look what the hell yall got started.”
Next, Janet came on, and we learned we didn’t have great seats after all. We had to stand in our seats to see her, but it was great anyways. It was hard trying to take pictures Posh’s camera because you had to place a quarter on top of the camera to snap. It was a mess, but we tried our luck anyways, quarter snapping like crazy. During the end of the concert, I’d seen Trickster a few times walking around and signing some more autographs, and right behind us, I’d heard someone ask him if they could get some pictures and he stated that he had to get backstage (again) and in a hurry. “What a bummer!” I said to Posh because I was gonna ask him the same thing. Well, with one film left, and Posh’s finger on the quarter, I reached behind me and tapped him to ask if I could get a picture with him, with the last exposure.
“Sure! But you’ll have to follow me down by the gate,” he said. We followed his lead. When we got there, we were trying to decide on a pose while my friend and me were giggling. I was cheesing like a twelve year-old kid. My jaws were tightly stuffed as Posh snapped the picture. We shook hands and went our separate ways. Posh and me got to see Janet perform her very last song and though we didn’t get to meet her, we had a great time anyways.
Now here it is, four years later and I’m back in her world-again, this time hoping to meet her.
I’d chatted with the tall handsome black guy: Rob Vinson/WiseOne quite a few times and he seemed real cool. This Aries was in the room almost everyday it seemed like. Every time he’d come in, the room would fill up with everybody coming out of lurk and I could hardly get a word in sometimes. He’d send down silly pictures of frogs and write in big letters to make everybody laugh and wonder how he did it. Other times he’d send pictures down of his arrogant Aries self, and all the girls in the room would go crazy! One day he dropped down his email “addy” (addy=address-I’m catching on). I wrote it down and dropped him this line:
Date: Tue, 20 Dec 1999
From: Angela White email@example.com
Hey WiseOne this is Cinamon from chat. My real name is Angela and I attend college majoring in Psychology and I wrote two books that I’d like you to pass on the title to Janet for me. Let her know that I’m gonna send them to her once they are published and to look out for them and not to overlook them as just junk or fan mail. I think she might find them rather interesting and I truly believe she might find herself in there somewhere…another thing I wanna let you know. Chat, I don’t think I like. I’m having a hard time trying to keep up. But I do think it is good that you come in as much as you do. It gives her fans some sense of normalcy. She should perhaps pay you a little more…lol I know she’s probably sleeping, but when she’s not busy, pass this on to her if you can for me…thanks…Angela.
He never responded, so the next time he came into the chat room, I posted this question to him to see if would get his attention and a response from him:
“Hey WiseOne, when you guys are done touring with Janet do you’s still hang out or does she just get back with you’s in the next four years or so when she needs you?”
I asked twice, but he still didn’t respond, even though he was still in chat. I went on and left him alone, and let all the other chatters jump all over him while I sat back in my comfortable black Futon chair, listening to my music from the CD Rom-just lurking…
I liked to lurk sometimes. It was cool because you could lurk as long as you wanted to, without having to log on to announce your presence and no one would have to even know you were there. But if you saw someone you’d want to talk to, you could log on and just beam down into the room and talk. I thought that was pretty slick.
The next day or so, we were chatting, and WiseOne came down and posted his pager number: “310-786-6367,” and left right back out. Talk of the room was that some chatter had posted his own phone number, and WiseOne along with his fiancé; “Sleeper” (Janet’s choreographer/dancer) had called him. So when WiseOne posted his number, I quickly wrote it down and called.
I left a message with my phone number and briefly told him that it was me-Cinamon, the one from chat, leaving him a message for him to tell Janet; the same message from the email that he didn’t respond to. I mentioned a few things about myself so as to let him know I wasn’t some crazed fan, and hoped that he would deliver the message to her one day while they were on the tour bus or whatever.
I felt sorry for the one girl who was zigadeeboo over him above any of the other girls in the room. She wanted him foreal Jack, and I mean baaaadd. Her nickname was “Sweetiepie,” from South Carolina-and man she would KILL to have that boys’ pager number! I really felt sorry for her. I was laughing, just thinking about how ecstatic she woulda been, to have been in the room when he posted his pager number. Man, she would have set that man’s pager ablaze!
When she came in later that day, I told her how he had come in and posted his pager number (fuckin’ with her) just to get a rise out of her I guess. “GIVE IT TO ME CIN. GIVE IT TO ME!” she demanded, begged and screamed. At first I was going to give it to her, but then, for some reason, I felt WiseOne sitting back in lurk saying: “Cin, please, please, please don’t give it to her-please!” so I gave her some excuse about not being able to find it or some kinda lie I told. I felt bad, but for some reason, I felt her ready energy and knew she would call so much that he’d probably disconnect it-and I sure as hell didn’t want that to happen.
“This could be fun,” I was thinking…
To add to the sense of normalcy I felt was there, Trickster would come down and talk to everybody, and they’d be all over him even more than WiseOne. I was confused at first because he seemed to be a lot more openly involved with Janet’s career more than he was years back when I met him. Back then, no one hardly even knew who he was, at least that was my impression when I met him.
But in the chat room, and I guess four years later, it was like, he too was just as popular and well known as Janet’s dancers were. He’d come in, and people would come out of lurk and bombard him with questions about Janet and the projects he was working on. To my understanding (I learned while lurking) he was producing/directing films and doing photography work. Poor thing, he could hardly get a word in. When the room would fill up with too many questions, he’d just send down pictures of himself and pictures of Janet and ((((((((((hug everyone)))))))))))).
Other times he’d switch up on his nicknames to confuse people, so they wouldn’t even know who they were talking too. Then he bust out and “*LoL!” (laugh out loud-I’m catching on). It’d be so funny when he’d do that. He seemed to love this kind of communication, because he’d be having a lot of fun with it.
Once while he was in, I asked him if he remembered who I was. I reminded him of the day my pen exploded in his hand and he told me he vaguely remembered, so I posted: “How often is it that a pen explodes in your hand when you sign autographs? Oh I see. You must be trying to act like that just in case Janet is lurking, LOL!” …thinking about how controlling and territorial you’d hear Janet was. He didn’t respond to my comment. He just asked: “Cinamon what do you look like?”
I told him that my picture was on its way to this other chatter named “AnthoNY,” from New York (obviously *lol). I believe AnthoNY was a monitor as well, because he had a web page with rare pictures of Janet and pictures where he’d been with Janet’s dancers before, during, and after her big New York concert in October. He was real cool and funny and everybody seemed to like him a whole lot.
Anyways, back to Trickster.
It took him a while to respond to me and it seemed like he was answering every question except mine, so I posted: “Cinamon notices that Trickster is trying to ignore her but that’s okay.”
“No Cinamon, I’m not trying to ignore you, I just can’t type, read and try to answer all the questions at the same time ;o)”
(I learned that was a kiss and a wink if you look at it sideways) so that made me feel happy and “un”ignored. He then sent a large message that read: “TRICKSTER WOULD NEVER TRY TO IGNORE ANYONE IN THE CHAT ROOM ON PURPOSE…”
That was even more comforting, considering I really did think he was trying to ignore me.
When I’d chat, I’d basically talk about the things that interested me-astrology and mainly Janet. I had a cool lil’ chat buddy named “LissaFOSD” who was crazy as a road lizard. This Aries had a funny sense of humor and she and I would throw insults back and forth at one another as if we really knew the other sometimes. I really liked her, first and immediately. She’d always be traveling around the room poking fun at people and joking around for what seemed like hours! Sometimes I would come in the room, carry on with my day and would return at night and she’d be there doing what she does best. I never understood that…
I had another chat buddy named Kaygei. She and I would laugh and joke about how we both picked our navels and how since I was a kid I never let the habit go. She was cool. She’d always refer to me by saying: “hey Cin, how’s my navel pickin patna?” Kaygei was someone who I’d chat with, but she seemed to wear a mask from head to toe. For some reason, I never found out her astrological sign or anything else about her except for the fact the she too picked her navel like I did. She was weird, because she’d just “appear” and then would “disappear…”
Another person I’d chat with was a girl named Alina. She was actually from Cincinnati as well. She was currently attending college somewhere out of state, but she told me she would be attending the college I was attending in the fall of the 99/2000 school year. I got a chance to see a picture of her on a web page that she had taken with Butta, at Janet’s big New York concert after party. She and I talked about meeting up for lunch one day whenever she moved back to Cincinnati.
My other chat buddy was this Gemini nicknamed “VirginJDJ,” and boy was he witty. We’d talk about Janet and come up with songs for an unplugged album we’d like for her to sing, to show off her pretty voice. We’d also talk about personal things (subliminally) about Janet that only a true fan like me (or someone who knew her personally) would know. I liked him a lot. Sometimes he’d shake the room up by talking about Janet as if he was stalking her. At first he worried me, but when I’d see how it didn’t bother Trickster, it didn’t bother me.
Besides, someone named “Cleaner” would kick you out of the room if you got out of hand or disrespected Janet in any way shape or form. VirginJDJ never got kicked out when he’d talk crazy for some reason and I thought that to be strange…January 1, 1999-New Years Day, he’d sent me a Janet web card that I thought was so nice. She really had her chat room hooked up. You could email a cyber web card with a picture of her on it to send to anyone. All you’d have to do is go to one of her links and choose a picture of her out of about 50 different poses and you could write a message in it. It was really cool.
I also had a chat buddy named Chris-a Virgo. He was bisexual and would always ask me for advice about a situation he was going through with his drug-addicted boyfriend who was a Scorpio. He’d emailed me once or twice asking for my advice. He was such a pest sometimes in chat but he was cool though, I liked him.
“Dread” was another one of my chat buddies. This Pisces would always enter the room saying: “Greetings” and calling people “Sistren” and “Brethren,” using words like “One Love” and offering kind words of endearment. He and I would talk here and there, and I’d tell him that there was nothing dreadful about dreadlocks and that he should change his nickname to “LOCKS” instead. (We could use as many nicknames as we wanted, but I stuck with “Cinamon”). He’d see me (when he’d be lurking) and would come in under “LOCKS,” and if he’d see me carrying on convos (conversations) with anybody else and wasn’t paying him enough attention, he’d change it back to “Dread.”
This ultra-sensitive dramatic Pisces was in love with some girl who lived in Arizona and he claimed he was moving to there to be with her-then enroll in college there. Though he had locks he was a white guy. I thought all this time I’d been talking to a black guy (since there aren’t that many white Rastafarians that I know of). Once he sent me a picture of him attached to an email and he asked me what I thought of it. I told him I thought he was a really nice looking guy and that I was shocked because I actually thought he was black all that time. “Oh so what Cinamon are you prejudice?” he demanded to know. He was the first to bring out the spicy side of Cinamon. I spit fire at him: “Um excuse me Dread, it’s not that often that you see many white boys with dreadlocks Hun and when someone beams down into a chat room under the name Dread, and says they are Rastafarian, one would quite naturally think he’s black. When you sent the picture, I’m sure you knew that I was gonna be shocked to see a white Rastafarian with Dreads, so don’t try to work me. That sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m prejudiced!”
He apologized, I accepted and we continued on like there was never a problem.
I’d never seen the wonderful woman beam down into this cyber world and I even wondered if they were lying to me when they said she’d come at lot. I pretty much figured that she was too busy with her tour that she was on at the time, and probably slept when she had down time. The tour was soon to end at the end of January, so I figured I’d probably catch her after then, but I’d wondered why Trickster and WiseOne would find the time. I’d especially be curious about WiseOne, because he was a dancer for Janet and was currently on tour with her so whenever he’d be on, I’d know for sure she wasn’t performing! As for Trickster, I found out that he was home in California at the time.
One evening, I’m in, and I’m having this big long discussion about a number of things (astrology mainly) and everybody was asking me to find their moon and rising signs so they’ll know. We were discussing people’s personalities and how ironic it was that astrology nailed them on the head. We were in the room yackin’ away, then down beams Trickster, who sort of broke up our conversation with the attention he was getting (obviously). He wasn’t very talkative, which kind of kept a small flock of people over by my side while we continued on with our conversation. “When is your birthday?” I asked Trickster. He continued to chat and answer a few questions. I was careful not to complain about him iggin (ignoring) me because he said that he would never “igg a chatter” on purpose.
So since he wasn’t that talkative, I assumed he just came in to break up our “lil” conversation seeing as though he didn’t join in. This girl who wore a nickname proclaiming her love for him: “TrickstaLuvR99” tapped me and told me when his birthday was: July 16-he was a Cancer like me. “Well, he and Janet are extremely compatible, they will be together like, forever!” I said to my audience. “Man y’all are bold! Beaming down here talking about how much y’all are in love with this woman’s man in HER chat room!” I laughed and posted. Then another girl beamed down and says: “shit I love him too and I’m not wearing his name no where in my nickname! *LoL.”
I kept laughing to myself in my own virtual reality…
I’m looking at one of Tricksters names he’d beamed down with, called “BUZZ.” He’d trick people with his various nicknames like crazy and you could only catch on if you were a “regular.” Another nickname came down called “LV,” so I called myself telling him something in codes and scrambled words along with his and Janet’s birthday trying to get HIM to deliver the message I emailed to WiseOne. He still never responded. Shortly thereafter, he announced that he was exiting the room and (((((((hugged everybody))))))) but “LV” stayed on. Come to find out, “LV” was Larielle-the room monitor who worked for Janet. She sometimes used the initials of her first and last name, so I learned that day…
I just shrugged my shoulders and kept chatting with whomever.
The next day-I’m in.
New User Welcome [Cinamon]: “((((((((((((((((Cinamon)))))))))))),” they said.
I hugged everyone back: “((((((((((((((((((Room)))))))))))).”
I notice it’s crowded as hell and I’m wondering why. I didn’t see Janet’s nickname, but I see her lead her female dancers’ nickname posted: “[Butta] authorized” She’s being bombarded with questions about Janet and she’s trying to answer them all. Immediately, I’m trying to make her remember me from the concert that I’d attended in Columbus-September 98, but she never answered me.
My friend Posh and me had driven up to see Janet there. When she first came out onstage, I immediately started snapping pictures-with my REAL camera-no quarters needed. Those last pictures I took at the concert in ’94 looked like she was merely a twinkle behind a smoke filled screen.
At this concert however, Posh and me were so close to the stage that we could probably touch her-that is-if we wanted to get wrestled to the ground. We were to the left of the stage right behind the lights and bodyguards and all. I’m yelling her name trying to give her the rose I’d bought for her that had lost its petals from me shaking it to death, but I tried anyways:
“Janet! Janet! I LOVE you girl!” I said to her when we made eye contact. She looked over and turned up her brows as if she had seen a pleasant surprise. I looked at the stem that once held beautiful rose petals and knew that it wasn’t what made her respond that way. She kept singing and glanced over at me from time to time, which enabled me to get great close-up pictures. When she calmed down a bit, she looked over again and winked her eye and blew a kiss at the same time. The two gay guys next to Posh and me (who we’d just got done fighting about seats with, because THIS time, I WAS lying about our seats-but what the hell, so were they), had screamed: “Oh my gosh oh my gosh she wants ya! You’d better fuckin go Hun. You’d better fuckin go dammit!”
They were laughing and poking fun while Posh and me laughed along. She pretty much used the left side of the stage more than she did the right side, which was great for Posh and me because we got to-die-for pictures. Janet was sweating from singing and dancing for so long with all these layers of clothes on, so I said: “take off all them clothes girl!” and my whole corner started laughing. She smiled back at me and the gay guys figured I scored some extra points with her so they moved even closer to the left side with Posh and me and continued to poke fun. The more she looked, the more I snapped. I snapped so much that I’d grab Posh’s camera and snap away, so I wouldn’t run out of my own film so fast. We were going to get double prints and divide them equally anyways-besides, Posh was shy and scared that we were gonna get our cameras taken this time, rather than worrying about us REALLY being in the wrong seats like before.
The more I snapped; the more Janet assumed the position for me to get my pictures while she sang. I was so excited. Her first opportunity to show a little skin, she was out there in my face like, “now what?” and I was still snapping away. I was excited as hell about how my pictures were gonna turn out. My whole corner was offering me numbers in hopes that they could get some of these to-die-fors that I was going to have. Some were offering to pay me for them-others just wanted them. I was telling them that I lived two hours away but that I’d try. Everybody was so excited.
Towards the end of the concert, some guy comes by with another guy and makes his way in front of Posh and me somehow, and was signaling for Butta. She was laughing, so we were assuming the guy must had known her or was a relative of hers by the way he just made his way in front of us. At the end of the concert, I was able to get even better pictures of Janet, Butta and Sleeper because the three of them grouped themselves together as if there was some sort of inside joke going on because they all were looking sneaky and right at me. So while they got into their sneaky little girly circle and made their way over to my corner, I snapped a close-up of them and laughed-we all were laughing: the three of them, the gay guys, Posh and me. That was my very last exposure…
The next couple days, I was in the room, Butta came beaming back down. I try it again: “HEY BUTTA. I GOT SOME PICTURES FOR YOU. I WAS THE ONE FROM THE LEFT SIDE OF THE STAGE AT THE SHOW THREE MONTHS BACK, IN SEPTEMBER. I HAD ON A GREEN SHIRT AND BROWN PANTS. I DON’T KNOW IF THE GUY IN A COUPLE OF THESE PICTURES ARE RELATIVES OF YOURS BUT ILL SEND THEM IF YOU WANT ME TO! REMEMBER ME?” (In cyber world, writing in caps meant that you were shouting). It got her attention though:
“Oh Cinamon, I remember you, you are talking about my brother. I’m from there. Hold on…brb.” (BRB=Be right back-I’m catching on). A few seconds later, down beams the nickname: “QUEENJANET” (in caps). My eyes got really big and I was scanning the room trying to see if anyone else noticed. She says: “CINAMON, QUEENJANET WANTS YOU TO KNOW THAT SHE THINKS YOU ARE THE BOMB!!!” Still scanning, I felt the room get a little quiet. Butta wasn’t chatting much either, but there was still conversation going on. I’m wondering if the rest of the room knew what I knew, but looking at the many nicknames that had her name within them, like: “JanetLuvR” “Janet4Me” “JanetJackMe-” stuff like that, alongside the fact that it was her room, I figured she felt it was under control. So I responded back: “The feeling is mutual *LoL.”
She proceeded to tell me what she thought of me and I tried as much as I could to return the compliments without alerting the room. “Is this your normal time?” asked the QUEEN.
“Yes usually, most of the time,” I replied.
“Okay, well, I must go now,” she said.
“All right, I know the block is hot Boo I’ll watch your spot,” I said.
“Will you?” she asked seductively.
“Oh but of course, for you I will. I’ll sit on your throne and keep it real warm for you until you return,” I said.
She raised her brows: “You promise?”
“Scouts honor! *LoL,” I returned, laughing to myself thinking about how stupid I would look saluting her with my chest stuck out.
“LoL ;)” she laughed and winked…
After she left, the next nickname that rolled down read: “privacycontrol,” and I thought to myself: “Privacy is my middle name, my last name is control.” Right then and there, I knew for sure it was her-being clever, trying to see if I was too; wondering if I knew how to play the game. So I made some comment about how I “copied” (copied meaning-understood), with my brows up…
The very next day, I had the pictures scanned and put onto a disc for Butta, Janet and Sleeper to see, so that the QUEEN would know for sure it was me (the night in Columbus on the left) who she winked at.
Later, when I returned to the room, they were talking about Janet having the flu and how everybody was passing it on to each other. I couldn’t wait to email the pictures to Butta that I had scanned. I emailed “Lee,” (a guy who was some sort of “go-between” for Janet and the rest of the “authorized” privy few) to tell him that I wanted to get the pictures to them. He told me he’d give me Butta’s email addy provided that I would not give it out to anyone. I informed him that I was a very secretive person and would not do such a thing.
When he gave it to me, I sent the pictures, and included this note:
Subject: AND ON THAT NOTE…
Date: Tue, 19 Jan 1999 22:36:03 –0500
From: Angela White firstname.lastname@example.org
“I hope they made you smile! Give Janet a hug and a kiss for me and tell her that Cinamon hopes she feels better. If that was her the other night under the QUEENJANET handle, let her know I couldn’t respond accordingly because she came in all like, “WHA WHA?” (Tell her she could have come down as something like…princess…I woulda still recognized…smile) And, if that was her under the nickname “privacycontrol” tell her I copied that too! (smile) All of you’s be good and be careful…out…Angela. (Again, nobody knows I sent this but Lee)…”
Since the day I finally “met” the QUEEN, whenever I’d come in, she would not be too far behind. I’d usually come in around 9am my time, which was late night where she was at the time-in Tokyo, and when I’d come in after 5pm my time, it’d be early morning there. We’d flirt subliminally-testing each other out. Her-trying to feel me out, me-shocked at how I underestimated she could be so clever. I never imagined she even had in it her. I always envisioned her as a spoiled little whiny airhead, but she quickly changed my opinion of her in that light.
Sometimes we would flirt back and forth while we’d make jokes about me keeping her throne warm. When she came down after receiving the pictures, she didn’t say anything about ever getting them and neither did I, I just knew that she did-she too, knew that I knew she did. She came down this time and tapped me on the shoulder and said: “CINAMON wha wha?” I laughed in my virtual world; thinking about how clever she was by saying “wha wha?” because of what I said in the email I’d just sent to Butta. “So Cinamon, are you keeping my throne warm?” she asked me. My response was: “Why yes, oh but of course *rolling out the red carpet…” (Oh…an asterisk: * before a statement in cyber world identifies action, or a type of emotion to describe something you are doing or thinking).
We’d be flirting subliminally with one another in a very discreet kind of way. Her entrances and exits would always be the same and she never stayed very long, so I’d come in as much and as many times a day as I could, to get her in because when she would, it would never be for a lengthy amount of time. I felt kind of teased but I was happy for what I could get. I wished she would stay longer because I would have talked to her all day. I was soooo happy…
Despite the sense of normalcy I felt was there, I still felt somewhat distant from everyone talking to me in this world of theirs, and when I’d step outside myself and watch me in my virtual world-sitting in my black comfortable Futon chair, listening to my music from the CD Rom in front of my computer-laughing and talking to myself without a word spoken back to me from this virtual world of theirs; I wondered if the other friends of mine in cyber world felt any way like I did. It’s so amazing how words really can create environment and in this case, we made a world of our own. The thing that made this cyber world seem so virtual was how the go-between (Lee) was in charge of setting up what was called a “chatters page.”
What you would do is send a picture of yourself along with a few things about you and anything you’d want to include about Janet. I thought that was THE neatest thing, and added to this sense of virtuosity and normalcy thanks to Trickster and WiseOne. And then to have Janet beam down on me was like the next best thing to apple pie man. Well, for me, Lee posted on the chatters page; a picture of me that I scanned and emailed to him. I also sent the picture I took with Trickster as well, from ’94. I hid myself because I looked such a mess in it, with my cheesy cheeks; looking like a squirrel. I had also sent the picture I took of Janet, Butta and Sleeper from back in September at the Columbus concert-all grouped together in their sneaky girly huddle looking at me while I wondered what the inside joke was. I had been bugging Lee about getting my bio up for actually about a week prior to meeting the QUEEN, and when he finally did, it was neat. He posted the verbiage just like I wanted it. On the top of the page sat my picture and the bio read:
Date of birth: June 28
Where I Dwell: the NastyNati
What I do: Career College Student
What I like: the horn, art-poetry, writing, sketching, drawing, painting, singing, music
My favorite Jan jam: “Making Love in the Rain.” Well, she sang background-it was a hot song with Herb Alpert playing trumpet but I think Lisa Keith actually singing!
How long I’ve been a fan of Jan’s: umm..since I was about 9-yrs old
My Jan jolt!: (where I put the picture of the “un”me with Trickster and how I forgot to ask him if I could meet her-sounded corny but it was cute. I’d also scanned the picture of Butta, Janet and Sleepy.)
My Jan request: (that I wanted her to send me a copy of a song that she sang background on that is now out of print)
My Jan dang: (where I mentioned driving two hours to Columbus to see her because she cancelled in Cincinnati.)
Since it took a while for Lee to get the bio up, when QUEENJANET beamed down the first day, telling me how she thought I was “da bomb,” I had just checked for my bio and it wasn’t there when she had said that. I guessed everything had to be run past her sneaky eyes first. She obviously wasn’t thinking when she made the comment without my bio being up yet. That made me wonder if the room knew it was Her that Butta went to get for me when she told me she’d “brb.” Because how the hell else would she know I was da bomb without my bio and picture up yet, but I guess she had her “privacy” under “control.”
By the end of that night, however, the bio was up, except it wasn’t exactly the way I sent it to Lee. My picture was on the left side of the page and to the right of the page read my date of birth, where I dwell, what I do, my Jan jam and my Jan request as I’d sent. But on my Jan dang, they edited the word “Columbus,” I’d assumed because Butta stated that was where she was from. I guessed by her mentioning that, in the middle of the chat room and my mentioning “Columbus” in my bio didn’t make them feel comfortable, especially considering what had gone down between the QUEEN and me, and the chain of events up to when the bio was put up. I knew then why it too so long for Lee to get it up-they had to think, and edit; to camouflage Janet’s sneaky and clever little footprints and anything having to do with what was about to go down “just in case…”
Anyways, lastly, they edited where I’d mentioned how long I’ve been a Jan fan, there was no picture of Trickster and (the “un”me), or no picture of Janet, Butta, and Sleeper that I’d sent. Nor were there any comments I’d made about either picture on the page as well. “That’s weird,” I thought. “I like how they just censored my bio.” I really thought I had probably one of the best ones since I had a picture of (me with) Trickster and a close up of Janet, Butta and Sleeper, but I guess they didn’t see it that way. With all that, I knew the censorship was done for a reason, so I didn’t bother questioning Lee about why…
In the chat room during this time, I’d also chat with this girl named Brie, who claimed her real name was Donna Strouse. She just took to me one day in the chat room and we’d hold small talk with one another there. Brie was a 31 year-old woman with two kids and a fiancé, and she lived in Pennsylvania. She’d be online here and there shooting the breeze with me mainly, never with anyone else in the room however…
Strangely, I hadn’t seen WiseOne and Trickster since right before I met QUEENJANET. The last we had heard from Trickster, he’d purchased a Mercedes truck imported from overseas for the QUEEN as a late Christmas present, and the last we had heard from WiseOne was that he and Sleeper were engaged to be married. As much as the two of them frequented the room, I thought it was weird that by mid January, the two of them never came back-ever; they just vanished…
One day in chat, I was chatting with a girl named “Daniee” and we were laughing and joking about sexuality (subliminally). She had a friend named “Kajira” who was hiding in and out of lurk because Daniee wanted to have Kajira confess to me that she, like her, was bisexual. To keep the conversation subliminal and to a minimum, I asked the both of them to use Jack and Jill for “bi” and Jill and Jill for “homo.”
It was so funny. Kajira was the shy one, she was so cute and funny and acting like a shy kid and all. She kept coming in and out of the room refusing to confess and Daniee and me were laughing. A couple of nosey chatters wanted to know what Jack and Jill meant, so I turned to them and said: “oh it’s an organization that young college educated African Americans are in by way of their parents who are usually former Jack and Jill members themselves and they try to keep unity of friendships and relationships amongst the other Jack and Jill members so that the organization can grow and grow and grow. You know, to keep it in the FAMILY,” I said. “Oh I see,” said the nosey chatters. Daniee, Kajira and me just laughed.
Kajira was still playing around and I kept joking around with her and Daniee for a long while, but I was getting impatient: “Okay Kajira! Let’s have it now. I’m ’bout to go if you don’t tell me!”
“Okay,” said Kajira, like a kid with her finger in her mouth: “Jack and Jill.”
“Thatta girl, now was that hard?” I asked.
“No,” she replied shyly…
That was another fun day in the chat room, “this could be fun,” I was thinking…
Another time, I remember I entered the room and I announced that I was not alone and that I had a little company with me, it was my friend Janine. She wanted to see how cyber world looked since I’d told her how much fun I was having with it. The person I was talking to was my friend VirginJDJ. QUEENJANET did not come down, but Butta was in the room however, and she didn’t make mention of ever receiving my scanned pictures still, so I didn’t say anything to her about it either, she was basically just staring and talking to other chatters. Janine decided she liked VirginJDJ and stated how witty she thought he was, so he asked me to put her online and they chatted for a second about his being witty.
“What are you girls over there doing?” he inquired, when he got offline with Janine.
“Well what do you think we are over here doing?” I returned.
We just joked back and forth; the three us, as Janine and me were insinuating we were about to get it on, and VirginJDJ asked if he could join in. I told him that we usually don’t like it that way but I’d ask Janine: “No,” she joked, so I turned to him and told him that she said no. We all laughed, and I told him that we were actually about to leave out to go and get wings since it was $.20 wing day at the popular chicken joint up the way from me.
“I’ll bring you some wings back VirginJDJ okay?” I said.
“Okay Cinamon don’t forget me beautiful.”
“I wont,” I replied.
Butta watched and the QUEEN never came in. She was most probably sitting on the lurk couch-plotting and planning…
The next couple times in the room were really weird because Butta would be in and she still wouldn’t speak to me but she’d be talking to other chatters. I still didn’t ask her about receiving the pictures because for some reason it just didn’t feel right-like I shouldn’t have asked. I know that if everything was okay and felt right, I would have asked her, so since I didn’t, I knew something was weird and wrong.
Once I was in, and some girls were carrying on about the word “nigga” and they were talking about how one girl asked Butta if when she came out to California they could go shopping and asked her not to fake out like some kinda of “nigga” word. Well, I was in that day and remembered Butta corrected her by saying the word “black girl” to replace the “nigga” word.
Well, when I had come in on the conversation between the girls, I’d informed them about the replacement word that Butta chose, I’d assumed because she didn’t feel the word “nigga” was appropriate when referring to her. Everyone looked at me in agreement.
The one girl named “Cateyes” looked and me and asked me to repeat the scenario to her all over again and I did. Somewhere within the conversation I’d used the slang term “playa haten” and spelled it “playa hay’en,” and “Cateyes” turned to me and simply said: “I like how you spelled that Cinamon.” A few minutes later when Cateyes left the room, the girls in there were laughing (I later found out) at me-because Cateyes was actually Butta, who was in under the name (unauthorized) as if she was a normal chatter. It was then that I knew something must be wrong for sure. It was then that I knew she (with her claws out) had her eyes on me for a reason I couldn’t understand or explain even if I tried…
The next morning, I came in at my normal time-around a little after 9am and Janet was in talking to her fans under her “authorized” name of Dunk. I was a bit confused because she didn’t greet me with a (((((hug)))))) nor did she say anything to me at all. I watched her (((((hug ))))) everybody else that came in after me, and watched how she purposely igged me with all that she had.
“I want a hug too Dunk,” I kept saying, but she kept iggin me on purpose. I watched her talk to everybody while her attitude got worse and worse. So bad, that people were making comments about her possibly waking up on the wrong side of the bed, and since she was talking about how it was night-time where she was, I knew that her “waking up on the wrong side of the bed” wasn’t the problem. “Look guys, I want to let my hair down sometimes and sometimes I don’t feel like talking about work or how many dogs and cats I have and all that,” she said irritably.
She smartassedly then ran down the list of how many dogs and cats she had to shut everybody up. She was so rude, and I was shocked. She was so rude that people started exiting the room claiming they had things to do; trying to avoid her like the plague.
She and Butta switched places. This time, she said: “Hold on BRB,” and “Drama” entered the room “authorized.” It was Butta, with Janet in tow this time. I didn’t say anything, because I knew something was about to go down.
“Drama” asked Janet: “Hey Janet, do you still want it? How’s it hanging? Short, stubby, and to the left?
(I assumed trying to insult me and insulting my height by mentioning where I stood that September night at the Columbus concert). I waited to see.
“Do you still want it?” asked Drama.
“HaHaHa! Hell no! Short stubby and to the left, no, I think I’ll pass it to you!” said Janet.
I was thinking to myself, and wanted to write indirectly: “Well I know they couldn’t be talking to me. Now, I am short, but taller than Janet and I know that I am a thick girl, with breasts, thighs, hips and buttocks, but definitely not fat and have never and will never be as fat as Janet WAS!-naturally,” but instead, I just sat there as they carried on with that joke for a while and then my mysterious friend Kaygei entered the room:
“Hey Cinamon, my navel pickin patna! What’s up girl?” I responded: “Nothing, just trippin.”
“When you think you ever gonna stop pickin that navel girl?” she asked.
“I can’t help it, if I wanted to I wouldn’t help it,” I responded, while staring at Janet while she and Drama carried on like high school girls. I then posted: “All this, over my two dollar ass?”
Rico kept coming in telling Janet that he had to go really soon and that he had an appointment in 15 minutes that he couldn’t miss so Janet excused him. Meanwhile I was still watching Janet and Drama crack indirect inside jokes about me.
The new one was about me being a “hoe.” Drama was running around the room *singing: “THERE’S A HOE IN THIS HOUSE, THERE’S A HOE IN THIS HOUSE!” She was singing away while Janet was shouting: “THAT’S MAH GIRL! THAT’S MAH MU’FUCKIN GIRL!”
I was about to post something foul in the script, when I noticed I had been blocked out from sending anything through, and boy was I ready to spit fire at the both of them-despite the fact the she was superstar “Janet” that didn’t even matter to me anymore. But since I had been blocked out some kind of way from posting anything, all I could do was sit there and watch, and allow Drama and Janet to throw blows at me. None of what I was trying to write would post at all, and boy did I try. When I’d try to post something, a big white space filled the whole line where I’d normally post a message in chat. Her fans just watched, and left, one by one. They didn’t understand what was going on at all, they only understood that Janet was foul that morning.
In walks Larielle (LV) and laughs with Janet and Drama and says: “If the shoe fits, wear it! If you cant stand the heat, get out of the kitchen!” She kept posting that in the big bold letters the way Trickster and WiseOne would send down, to help Butta and Janet out. Janet then welcomed her and thanked her for doing her “job.”
I was watching all three of them (Janet especially) and crying like a baby; sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair in front of my computer, listening to my music from my CD Rom. I just watched these women in cyber world insult me, and throw blows into my virtual, real, human and now, crushed lil’ world. I was so stunned, that I sat and watched for a little over an hour while they continued, just to make sure what was going on was real. When I logged out, I cried and cried because I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I couldn’t understand what I could have done to make them do me that way-and Janet-how could she? What about her soft sweet, innocent smile? What about the things she’d speak of in her interviews, the lyrics to her songs? Where is that sweet person? I felt so crazy because all these years I loved her and I finally got my chance to meet her and it ended up like this. I would have much rather not have met her at all.
I just could not for the life of me-understand what happened or what I did to her. I never would have thought she had it in her to be so mean and cruel. I knew there must have been some misunderstanding in what obviously was in a matter of days.
Immediately I sent Lee an email asking him to remove me from the chatters page as soon as: yesterday. He couldn’t do it soon enough for me. I kept checking it and writing him, telling him to get rid of it and he wanted to know why. I told him it had nothing to do with him and that it was a pleasure knowing him. He did it immediately and I wrote back to thank him.
I took a deep breath. Dried the tears from my face and logged back on to send Butta a.k.a “Drama” an e-mail:
Subject: OH WELL
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 1999 11:55:59 -0500
From: Angela White email@example.com
Oh Well Butta. You and Janet really had me trippin but I just wanted to say that whatever is going on…I dunno. But chat really left a sour taste in my mouth and I’m completely…(can’t think of a word right now) but anyways.
As a fan of Janet’s since I was nine years old, what I felt about her then and even through today (professionally) doesn’t change and when it is done getting printed I’ll keep one on reserve for her. I really DID want that tape…fair change is no robbery…smile anyways)…Attached is just a copy of what I had ready to write Janet in her book personally from me that I was gonna have sent to her…but oh well…Since it was already written a while ago and what I truly feel in it hasn’t changed I thought I’d have you send it to her for me. And still, good luck, be good and be careful…All of yous…
I wanted so badly to express how hurt I was about what happened and about the way they behaved. I felt like a lost puppy. Judging from the things they said and how it was so obviously well thought out and planned, I felt like Janet wouldn’t even be trying to hear me. I wanted to tell her how she hurt me so deeply and how it was going to take me a while to get over it and I felt so many ways to stupid, especially since I hadn’t a clue to what the reason was that made her behave that way. I was discombobulated and speechless like crazy, especially not knowing what I could have done to hurt and upset this woman that I could never dream of intentionally hurting. The fact that Butta and Larielle were on her payroll didn’t make my case any better. I thought about attaching this letter I wrote, to the email that I sent “Drama:”
January 21, 1999
This letter may (or may not) come as a surprise to you, however I felt that it is one that must be written, (considering the circumstances involved). I want to preface this letter with the same emotion I was feeling when you and your hired help did what yous did. (Professionally) I feel no way different about you but personally is something altogether different. Anyhow, allow me to lead you into what it is I need to say.
It is imperative that you sort of feel my plight while I write these words that you are reading. You do not know me, and have never been around me to feel my presence, my body language or to feel my energy, so I am going to write this as best as I can so that you CAN feel me on this from afar.
Firstly, I wanted to say that I have always thought of you as a shrewd businesswoman and allow me to kick out some examples to you about what I am talking about when I say that:
I remember years back, in like-’93-maybe, in Essence, you mentioned your interest in bringing the life of Dorothy to film; NOBODY said anything about it and then all of a sudden, (people…) started proclaiming their interest in it as well. Well, after that, we heard: “oh so-in-so bought the rights to it,” and “so-in-so went for the part” etc. and when rights to it were obtained, it was almost like a Janet nannanannabooboo. I personally got pissed because I wanted to see you with the role, because I felt like it would’ve given the world a chance to see you in your fullness. But oh well.
The thing that I did like about how you handled the whole deal was by turning a deaf ear to the whole thing. People were dying to get some kind of rise out of you that you did not give them. I was so happy that you went on about your way and ignored the whole thing. Another example.
I remember how upset with you people were because during the filming your debut movie, you were allegedly chummy with the cast and crew and when the movie was over, you got your numbers changed and disappeared. Hmm…My first response was: she didn’t OWE it to nobody to hold a friendship with any of these people on this cast/crew. Business is business, she had to do what was necessary for the morale of the set. That’s business-something only a shrewd businesswoman would know to do. I like that, I understand that. I like her-that’s my girl.
Each day, more and more examples of what I am talking about confirmed my opinion of you in that light-that scored points with me. I Love it how you don’t too much socialize and run with these ‘cliques” in that business. Because with you, I know like you know, one mistake or slip and your name is mud. So I liked how you kept that kind of thing at bay-leaving people “just wondering.” I like that. That’s business.
I like how you know who to work with an who to avoid. I like that. I feel like you have paid your dues already in that business and other people got theirs to get. That’s just life. I like that in you. But let me explain something to you.
For years, I had always kept a kind of innocence in my heart when it came to you as Janet the entertainer. Now, throughout the years, you (personally) had kinda thrown me for a loop here and there, but that was a totally separate issue from the innocence in my heart that I always had for you as a kid.
Now. Imagine this. Imagine…lets say…Michael Jordan. All kids love Michael Jordan. Imagine a kid having Michael Jordan take notice of him one day. A day that this kid had been waiting on over half his LIFE. Then imagine the next time the kid finally sees him, and he says to the kid: “WILL YOU GET THE HELL OUTTA MY FACE, IM BUSY RIGHT NOW!!!…”
Imagine the look on the kids face and the swiftness of his heart beating faster than a speeding bullet. Do you feel me? Well, I am not a fan of Michael Jordan so the example I used may not be as heartfelt as the one I could have used with YOU as THE example but since YOU happen to be THE Michael Jordan in this scenario and I happened to be the kid, I’m sure you kinda (at least I hope) understand the emotion I am trying to extend to you.
Now, I did let whatever happened sort of roll offa my back, but like I mentioned to “Drama” it did leave a sour taste in my mouth, because for some reason, I’m still the same kid, who happens to be a full grown woman now, but guess what? She is still impartial when it comes to the admired (you) for these reasons:
First I took into consideration, these things. I took into consideration that okay, understanding, and feelings of empathy to many things in life is probably next to zero considering a)she is the baby of the family b) though you have worked for everything you have, I still took into consideration that you would find it hard to understand the plight of many people and situations that do not identify with you and yours probably because you are spoiled and still (regardless of what you’ve worked for and earned) have been silver spoon fed everything in your life. (Not as far as your work is concerned, but with patronage etc.)
So therefore, understanding what I was feeling was probably next to zero. But let me take one moment to say this. The day that bullshit occurred within the lines of the chat room, my whole opinion of you in any positive light did a total 360. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe how a mere-like I said-a mere “$2 me,” get such a rise out of you and you don’t even know me. You have never been in the presence of me, you don’t know my body language, the energy I give off or NOTHING. That rocked my world coming from you. It made me question my own image of what I thought was a completely shrewd businesswoman-an image I’ve always given you points in my eyes for-I questioned it after that day. Why? Because first of all, these same people who you employ, I believe, are being paid to make you look DAMNED good. Then here it is, and I’m sure because of your coaching, they surround you-surrounding me like some fucking kid on a playground. You really wanna know what it looked like?
Remember as a kid on the playground, there was always this pretty little girl that all the boys liked and you’d have these big ugly girls surrounding her and bullying her all throughout recess. Well, that’s what it made you look like and I’m sure you know you are far from ugly. First of all, someone with some sense and who had your total interest at heart would have turned to you and asked you what exactly was the situation, before making a decision to follow YOUR lead to make YOU look foolish. Someone with some sense would’ve advised you to do one of two things: treat her like the MERE fan that she is or confront her about whatever the problem was-tactfully. Girl, where is your pride? I would NEVER in a million years embarrass myself in such a way that would leave ANY woman with the thought of me being anything LESS than just that-a woman, in every way about how I handle ANYTHING.
Someone with some sense, wouldn’t have dared assisted you in posseying up with an entourage of three to assist you (who supposed to look good at all times) look bad. YOU and the one who pay THEM to make YOU look god…always and at all times, and for any reason (I do believe), well, this time, they failed. When I posted, “I’m laughing my ass off,” I really was, because of the shock I was feeling at the start of your premeditated shin ding. I could’ve if you would’ve let me, say a whole lot of mean and hurtful things (which is the norm for me in a situation like that) but as you know, the ball was not in my court. You had one hawk to the left, once claiming he was on guard but had to leave in fifteen minutes and one who just busted in (assisting-and patronizing you like you were really in the right in all this). She’s shouting out words across the screen waaayyy, on the other side of the globe (literally), waiting with the switch in her hand, ready to disconnect me only after I sit there with my pretty little self and take yalls beating. That was a shame. I hope all that I just said, sounded just about as busy and wild as all yalls behavior. You should be embarrassed.
Let me reiterate to you that there is nothing more important than my peace of mind and being able to sleep comfortably every night, and I assure you, I am no threat to you or nothing in your world. But how could you be sure of that? Bad business decision Hun.
During yalls performance, my normal response for the word I was looking for would have been…flattered, but because it happened to have been you, the culprit, the one that I’d always loved so much and had always been so impartial to; I couldn’t even pull any form of sarcasm from my mind to you cause I really didn’t wanna hurt you. Believe me you, I could bare what you did to me a lot more than what I could have done and said to me-you couldn’t handle it. Trust me on that. That had me fucked up, because in a normal scenario, if I didn’t care so much, I woulda let you have it. But instead, allow me to off you a word of advice, don’t you ever, as long as you stay beautiful, talented and black-allow some MERE fan or even someone in your own world work you like that again, because of whatever. I tell you that woman to woman and not me to Janet the entertainer, but me to you as a woman-a person.
I want to assure you that I let the whole thing roll offa my back and want to assure you that my goal in life is not to be the nemesis of you and I hate it that you and your entourage tried to accomplish that. I want to assure you that whatever the problem is, (or was-I guess), I want to assure you that there is not a fake bone in my body and that even though you DON’T know me, if you EVER learn, or care to learn anything about Angela white in life, let it be known that I never do or say anything without a reason or merit. There is NOTHING that I am confronted with that I wont welcome and handle. I am one to assure you that I believe life is too good and filled with beautiful people doing beautiful things and spending valuable time doing worthwhile things rather than worrying about petty shit and petty people. I enjoy life, I love life and I look forward to it everyday that I wake. Each day that I wake, becoming Janet’s nemesis is certainly not on the agenda.
If I see you twenty years from now, I would still have the same kool-aid smile I’ve always had like the last time you saw my face. That has not changed, and I just hope that you take into account all that I said and marinade in it and on it throughout what I hope is a busy and productive day and when you lay down to sleep at night. I still love you-Janet the entertainer, but as far as the person…hmmm…we’ll see…smile. I still love you, and keep your head above whatever is obviously drowning you.
Lastly…I wanted to mention, that when you regroup, and settle yourself after your tour and you feel like you are ready, I was going to send you a copy of my work to hopefully start you on your way to resting your mind, and your restless and wild spirit (I see now)…smile.
For some reason, I decided not to send that letter-I just kept it. I decided to send the one that I had prepared to write in one of the two books I wrote, that I was bugging WiseOne to tell her about. I attached this one to the email I sent to “Drama” instead:
I want to first start off by telling you what I’m sure you probably already know is that I am a “fan” of yours and I admire all that you are and do. I have watched you grow since the album with your head above the water- Janet through the television shows you’ve played in, I was there. (You here me?) Since then, I’ve admired the changes in you through your second album, the consciousness in you on your third album and the changes in you by your forth album.
One day I had a debate with a girlfriend of mine who, at first, could not understand what it was I saw so special in Janet. This friend and me were out on one of our long drives while we talked about various subjects and one of your songs came on the radio and she brought it up again.
She knows that I am quite music savvy and like various music and artists for various reasons and she asked me what my reason(s) were for you. I told her that above all, Janet has PAID HER DUES. I went through all the aforementioned career travels, videos and everything. I told her that it was so funny how over the past few years that Janet has taken on this extremely big entourage of people dancing and backing her while she performs.
But I could remember a time when she had none of that and ran the shit out of her videos and concerts with just her producers and backup singers dressed in gold mesh outfits. From that time on, I watched her stomp and jump and scream and cry and sing her way to where she is today. I told her that I am one fan who could vouch for her capabilities to run her show all alone today. We laughed because I had told her how I only go see Janet in concert with one particular friend because she loves Janet because she’s just Janet. She, like many other people think that Janet came out when your third album came out, and had a few acting gigs before that, however. But I informed her that there were two other albums before that, that I enjoyed, and still have (albums-literally.)
My one friend who goes to Janet’s concerts with me understands how my entire personality changes when I watch her perform in total pride and amazement, because I was there. I told her that when I see you perform, I say “DAMN!” because in one word, that’s all I can say. “She is all that, then and now.” She laughed.
That evening we sat at home and pulled out all my old Video Soul and Night Tracks Videos with you and other various artists from back in the day and I led her up to the concert I taped a couple months after I’d seen you that came on television. When she got done, she turned to me and she said, “damn Angela. I LOVE JANET. Omigod! Look what I have been missing…it is a must that I see her in concert!” That made me smile and we got over our little inside jokes that we’d make for the most part. Well, besides your career, above anybody else in the business (off top of my head), I have respect for you and all that you do to the infinite power. I was there, watching you struggle to be known and recognized as an individual. I am finally glad to know that everybody is starting to recognize you as such.
When you came out with your latest album, interviews and talks show appearances started hitting the world from left to right. When I would read some of the articles I would say, “Omigod! This child is gone. On a personal level, she lost me. How dare she come with some publicity stunt talking ’bout sad cells and shit!” I mean I really thought that Janet had no right to be (Sad? Unhappy? Depressed?) “Hell, is she that eager to sell an album?” I thought.
Well of course I purchased it when it first came out and liked what I heard but understanding your pain was out of the question. Pain and hurt and depression are only supposed to have been for anybody other than “Janet?” I’m thinking. But still, that realm of your life had nothing to do with the Janet who fakes it on stage and keeps me in awe the whole way through. So bright and early (on your birthday), Ticket master put your tickets on sale that Saturday (for my city) and I was there, with bells on; my Janet planet pal and me. Two weeks later you cancelled. I got my money back and I said, “oh well, two tears in a bucket, fuck it.” A month or so later, the radio station announced that you would be in concert two hours away and I said, “fuck it.” Still.
Five days before the concert I got weak, my girl got weak. “Two hours away wouldn’t hurt.” We said. Not for Janet. Well, I had home girl at the ticket counter working the hell out of that computer to get me the best seats in the house for five days away. If we couldn’t get the first three rows I was giving up. It took about 45 minutes but the girl put me on. I was so happy to see you that I know you got sick of hearing my then, horse voice yelling at you to come over to your right side. But you did. You let me get some bombdiggadee pictures of you and the best ones had my finger in the way…URGH! I looked up at you and you looked down at me and I said, “I LOVE YOU JANET.”
I had purchased one of the roses the were selling at the concert to give to you but it lost all it’s petals while I was fanning you to come to your right side. Each time you’d make it, my rose was more and more bald. I’d be forgetting to hand it to you because I was too busy trying to get pictures too. I worried your ass to death that night. My girl was too Shocked, and in awe with a migraine, me? Hmm. I worked that whole corner like I was some photographer. Let me get to the point.
I have been working on this book since 96 and had been so self-absorbed with my own self that I felt surely the likes of Janet could never understand what hurt and pain is about. Well, you sang some songs that hit home that I mentioned in this book, however, the one that really hit home was special to me. That, along with the admiration and respect that I have for you for all these years I have a brand new respect for all that the recent interviews and articles that I’ve read and didn’t believe since attending the concert. When we first got to the concert park, every other car was playing your music.
My friend and me kept laughing because of hard, extremely hard work that you have put into this industry, (that I still feel you haven’t received all that you deserve), you have stood a test of time that I could NEVER entertain the thought of doing. And I am THE MOST go-getting tenacious person’s in life you’ll ever meet. So even though I do not matter to you, consider it a “hats off” coming from me anyway. You have earned everything that you have achieved and deserve more.
The world is yours…I kept yelling, “I see ya, playing your Janet Party Pack!” Well, our party pack kept us awake for the two-hour drive home. But we broke out with some old old Janet stuff from like back in the day. They weren’t ready for that. I almost killed us trying to make it home that night because we were two hours away and boy was it a struggle, but we made it. Anyhow, personally, I feel like I sort of “owe” you something. I now understand all that I found hard to believe and I felt oh-so-bad for the ways that I doubted that Janet could also be-normal. You really are something special. Hopefully, the day you open the first page of this book, it is on a day that you have time to read it from page 1 to the last one. I hope that you, like all my readers, could understand and overcome all that is ailing you. Again. I LOVE YOU GIRL…
That evening, around 8pm my time, I got an email back from Shawnette that simply read:
Subject: Thank You I luv the pics
Date: Thur, 21 Jan 1999
From: Shawnette Heard ButterahBucky@hotmail.com
To: Angela White firstname.lastname@example.org
“That was so nice, dunk and I looked at the pics together. That was really nice of you. I hope all is well. I just wanted to thank you. I will talk to you.”
I read the letter over and over and I could only laugh to myself, thinking about how (now) after all this time she decided to “thank me” for the pictures, when what she should had been doing was apologizing to me for what they did to me earlier that morning. I could see (now) that Janet liked to play Jedi Mind Tricks and even got help to do it…
Well, I guess because she IS “Janet” and in this cyber world she IS the QUEEN of her planet, she didn’t feel like she had to apologize. The fact that she merely “relayed” that my attached letter “was nice” should obviously suffice, so she probably felt.
At any rate, I was happy to get SOME kind of response, even though I didn’t get a reason why, nor any apologies for the mess.
For the next few days, I could not get it out of my mind and I desperately wanted to know what I did to make her behave that way. I just did. I couldn’t understand what would make her change on me in a matter of days, I mean she switched on me like I really had done something terrible to her, and I knew I hadn’t done anything.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I had released so much about the real me, like: my real first and (very uncommon) last name, my real major and college I’d attended, my real City and State I lived in, my real date of birth, my real–everything; I would not have even cared one bit. I would have just left and never came back and went on about my business-happy that I did at least got a chance to know the real “human” her off-stage, and Janet the “superstar” could have just as soon kissed my ass.
Since I trusted her simply because she was “who she was” and I’d always loved her since I was a kid, I didn’t feel that listing my real information would be a problem, and besides, her room was very “personal” like that-almost like the seductive look on the red faced picture of her at the entrance to the room: “Inviting,” and seductively “trusting.” Because even though she wasn’t showing her innocent and infectious smile, you still knew it was in her-somewhere.
I’ll never forget the words beneath the red-faced picture that read: “Come on in…” and I did just that-came on in, all the way in. Had it been any other celebrity or popular anything; I would not have even dreamed of doing anything other than acting like my real name was Cinamon from Timbuktu-but her-I trusted. I just did. Whatever the case, I knew she was livid about something-but I was the only one in the dark about what it was.
I kept thinking to myself, “what if I had gotten together with a couple of the other chatters who were making plans to get together to meet up in Hawaii for the last few days of her concert tour and party that was soon to come?” I would have been stuck with a round-trip ticket to Hawaii-hotel room included. “What about the after party that was planned?” I couldn’t have gone, because I DEFINITELY wouldn’t have felt comfortable being so close to her out of town, considering I still had no answers as to what made her treat me that way.
I didn’t go back into the room for the next couple days, but two days from “Drama” / Shawn’s response-still obsessing over what I did to upset Janet, I did send another email; thinking it probably would trigger a response from her to better explain to me what the problem was.
Subject: Re: Thank You I luv the pics
Date: Sat, 23 Jan 1999 20:11:28 –0500
From: Angela White email@example.com
To: Shawnette Heard ButterahBucky@hotmail.com
Butta. Pics? No problem. Talk? (if there is a problem?) here is my phone number 513-721-1552 (I live alone and will be the only one to answer and will remove the phonebonics (the block) off my phone if that serves as any comfort…Glad y’all liked them)…
Well, I never heard anything from “Drama” or QUEENJANET. And day-by-day I was growing more and more content with not ever going back to her world again; just blowing it off as a big misunderstanding, because there was nothing I could do about it anyways.
Searching my memory achieves, I remembered going “undercover” to the room after she dissed me, I was in lurk; watching other people chat. Trickster beamed down and everybody started to ask where he’d been and all, because he, nor WiseOne hadn’t been in the room in like-forever. He was in a very foul mood and not feeling much for conversation and started in on his reason for being there: “I have been lurkin and wurkin. I have been busy. Does anyone have a web page with a list of all Janet’s songs on it? If so, email me with it-Trickytoo@webtv.net.” People kept bombarding him with questions about what he was doing and why he or WiseOne hadn’t been in. “I’m lurkin and wurkin” was all he had to say to everybody…
I had a web addy written down somewhere in my desk that had what he wanted on it, but for some reason I wouldn’t come out of lurk to give it to him because it just didn’t feel “right.” I remember one chatter in particular named “Clittie” was more concerned than anybody why he would be asking for this information that he should already have access to-as was everybody else. I remembered in the chatter’s page, the “Clittie” girl was pictured with him three different times on what looked like two different days because of what they both had on. So her curiosity caught my attention for that reason…
From January 23rd through the next couple of months, I was taking care of my business with school, work, and doing some finishing touches on my books that I wanted to do. I could not deny that even though I had gone on with my life, I still could not let go of the fact that something like that would happen between Janet and me. I had loved her all my life and felt terrible that my meeting her would end up like it did and I wished it all away so bad. I even blamed the snow for keeping me in the house-bored that December day that I had logged on to the Internet for the first time. I’d had the computer since early that summer and wondered: Why? Why did I decide to come in when I did? I hated the feeling I had; I just hated it so bad. I felt kinda emptied out not knowing the answer to that one question I had…
“Why? Why did I get dissed by Janet?” I was soooo embarrassed–and a bit sad about it.
- the showiness and exaggeration in one’s behavior; haughtiness; arrogance.
“I had no contact with anyone from the chat room except for Brie. She would bug me almost every morning on this private one on one online communication called Instant Messenger (IM), whenever I’d get online to read the news on my Netscape home page. Instant messenger would automatically turn on as I’d get online, and Brie would be right there as if she was waiting for me.
I recalled getting set up on it sometime in January, but I’d never utilized it, so I really couldn’t recall how Brie even got my sign on name to communicate with me in IM anyways. I guess I must have, because she sure as hell found me and bugged me to death by utilizing it-every single time I would get online. She was weird, and such a pest, but sometimes I didn’t mind because it seemed like she was kinda lonely to have had 2 kids and a fiancé.
She’d send me emails with cartoon pictures and jokes like she was 12 years old. She was so corny sometimes. Every time I’d log on, she’d jump right in on me and start a conversation. She must had put me on her Buddy List because if you put someone on your Buddy List, you would get a special ringing or chime to let you know that they were online, and I think that was how she’d know I was.
She and I would talk mainly about her two kids, my one, and school, (she was an economics major). We’d talk about her mom, and how she was going to get her the jeep she wanted. She talked about how excited she was about it because this was her mom’s first vehicle since she’d always been driven around…
We’d also talk about our favorite soap operas, music and television shows. Sometimes she’d have me go back to clarify something I may have said, like, five lines back, or every other line, and I’d yell at her. I’d tell her that if she couldn’t keep up with the script that I was not going to talk to her because that was very irritating to me. She’d be so apologetic and goofy that I’d just shake my head like, “who the hell is this and what does she really want? Is she that lonely?”
We’d also talk about how she liked to make parfaits and how no one could make them better than she could. She told me about a cooking contest she was going to enter on Good Morning America in hopes that she would win so that she could meet Emeril Lagasse.’ I’d tell her how I’d keep her in my prayers because this strange bird really wanted to win.
I pretty much kept our conversation off of anything that had to do with the chat room-as did she. About the only thing we’d discussed about it was when she told me how different it seemed since the tour was over, and that there were a lot of new people online that met each other at the last show in Hawaii, but other than that, she didn’t go there much anymore either.
I told her I had some problems in the room two months back and that I didn’t think I was gonna return. I never told her what kind of problem, and she never asked either…
Sometimes I’d creep on IM to see how long she’d be online and it’d be like 12 and 14 hours at a time. I would wonder how much time she devoted to her kids, fiancé and school. I’d call her an “Internet Head” and she’d deny it. I wondered how she could handle school, being a wife-to-be, with two kids and family life and be online for as long as she would, I really did wonder.
Sometimes we’d get disconnected if I had a phone call come in, and she’d inquire about why I didn’t have a program that allowed me to be online and on the phone at the same time. I’d tell her about how my Internet Service was free of charge through the college I attended and they didn’t have it set up that way. She wouldn’t let up sometimes. Then she’d pester me about getting an Internet program called ICQ (like: “I seek you”).
She told me that you could watch every word the person who you are talking to, types, and even if they made a mistake you could see it too. “No Brie, I am not interested in anything like that, that is a little too virtual for me Hun.” I told this koo koo bird. I couldn’t understand why someone would even want virtuosity like that, I really couldn’t.
She asked me if I ever thought about visiting Pennsylvania and I’d tell her no. When she’d talk about that, I’d brush her off, because I had no interest in meeting (in person) any strangers over the Internet with all the horror stories you’d hear and all. That was pretty much the gist of my Internet conversations with Brie. This strange bird was two cans short of a six-pack.
I was going on with my life as usual. My friends were asking me if I had heard anything from Janet or “Drama” Shawnette and all I could say was simply, “No.” My friend Posh was more in awe about what had happened than anybody because she was my Janet Planet Pal, and she knew now that we wouldn’t be going to see Janet in concert when the next four years would come back around.
One February evening before Valentines Day, I was over Posh’s house, and she asked if I had heard anything about Janet and her boyfriend breaking up early that February, and I told her no. She told me she had heard it somewhere. “I’ll check the Internet, to see if something was posted about it, and then I’ll let you know if it’s true,” I told her. No sooner than I could look up the information, I’d heard about it too. Then I checked some pages on the Internet and read up on it, I was shocked. I had never, in all these years of being a fan of hers, heard tell of anything having to do with she and boyfriend-well, maybe one other time, but for the most part, they pretty much kept a low profile, and to hear this kind of news really did shock me.
When I checked the Rolling Stone Music Message Board under her name, I noticed that Trickster hadn’t documented anything since a few days into February, right before this (alleged) breakup.
Normally, from what I read, he’d post messages, arguing on her behalf, back and forth with other Internet users who frequented the Rolling Stones Music site. He was like Janet’s guard dog there. He posted messages as far back as some years-every day almost, and then from what I could tell, he hadn’t written ANYTHING in what looked like a week, which according to how much he’d post messages; was a long time.
So, I knew then, that their breakup was no publicity stunt and I could only imagine how the room was reacting, but I still stayed away. I figured if there was anything going on in there, Brie would say something…
On with my virtual reality.
I was getting strange phone calls like never before and I clocked them: February 17-11:15am, 1:18pm, 3:21pm and 6:48pm. All calls, the person would listen then hang up from an “Out of the Area” number. On February 18 at 2:18 pm they hung up before I could even say hello, after that, I didn’t receive any more calls like that…
I still stayed away.
Early March, my friend Shauntay was over and she wanted me to go into the chat room to see what was going on. “NO WAY!” I said.
She was dying to see what it was like, but I wouldn’t go in. It reminded me of such a nightmare.
A couple days later-March 8th, my friend Ahoo, who thinks she’s rough and stuff, came over and talked me into it. “Just don’t say nothing about what happened. Shit them hoes callin’ yo house and playin’ on yo phone, go to HER shit and just sit there, you aint gotta even say nothing. Don’t start no trouble just sit there and ‘LURK’ gotdammit! They fucked with you first shid, you better than me; I woulda been in there a long time ago, fuck her!”
I did it:
Welcome New User [Cinamon].
“(((((((((Cinamon))))))))))))))” “long time no see!” “MYM” (miss you much), and things like that had been posted from some people who remembered me. In beamed that LissaFOSD and she was carrying on like her same silly self. She was in under the nickname “GubmentCheese.” I was laughing like crazy and really happy to see her. I always liked her and could always count on a good laugh whenever she was around:
“Where you been miss ‘dwell’ girl?’-A name she’d call me when she would pick with me about my bio because I listed: “where I DWELL” instead of saying: “where I live.” She was such a riot. Once a while back, she and I were talking about the two phone lines I had; one for bustas and the other for friends, and she finished with: “Yeah Cinamon, Bustas, and BILL COLLECTORS!” and I go: “Yeah them too!” even though I wasn’t going to mention that in the middle of a chat room, but she brought it on out. Anyways, I said to Gubment Cheese:
“LissaFOSD I’m starting to think that you have a multiple personalities with all these names you be using. I see you are still around the room stirring up trouble!”
“No I don’t girl!” she responded.
Rico (the hired help) came out of nowhere and said: “blah blah blah…” then he started sending these words down: “test…” “testing…” “test…” “testing…” “test…” “testing…” “test…”
My friend kept saying to me in our virtual world, “Yeah ask him who passin the mu’fuckin test! ASK’EM!”
I told her I wasn’t going to say anything to him because I knew he was just trying to be funny. I could tell that some shit was about to start again and this time, he didn’t “have to go in 15 minutes” and LV was somewhere near I was sure.
While I was watching the script, someone stated that Janet was gone to workout. I didn’t say a word. I know they were probably paging and calling her cell phone to death to tell her to get online to start her trouble. I announced that I was gonna leave and LissaFOSD wanted to get my email addy so she could send me mail. I got hers as well, and told her I’d write really soon.
When I checked in Janet News Section of a link to her chat room, it stated that she and boyfriend were a done deal and they posted a copy of a chat script that was copied and pasted with everything Janet (“Dunk”) said to her fans in the chat room regarding the situation. In the notes before this convo, the hired help stated that they never usually copy or go over chat scripts, but in this case the felt like they had to for the fans…
Later that evening, I dropped Lissa a line to make sure I had the correct email addy because she used upper and lower case letters her email addy that she posted for me while we were in chat:
Subject: Re: ITS CINAMON!
Date: Tue, 09 Mar 1999 13:50:16 -0500
From: Angela White firstname.lastname@example.org
To: Melissa Luke email@example.com
Hey Lissa. I’m checking to see if I have the right email addy for you. If this is right, let me know if you got another in lower case as well.
I was confused, because when she responded, it looked like this:
Melissa Luke wrote:
> Mon Mar 08 19:16:21 1999
> >Received: from [184.108.40.206]by hotmail.com (1.2) with SMTP id
> MHotMailB8ADDD85F275D101707F818921982CC30; Mon Mar 08 19:16:21 1999
>Received: from email.ux.edu (t18-06.ra.ux.edu [220.127.116.11]) by newman.bch.ux.edu (8.9.2/8.9.2) with ESMTP id WAA14790
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>From: Angela White email@example.com
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> >Subject: ITS CINAMON!
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Hey Cinamon!! yeah it’s right!! LOL…now can you tell me why you stopped coming and took your name of the chatters page? I thought it was you that Janet was mad at LOL!
Her email confused me and I got a little leery at all the arrows, numbers and language that I didn’t understand. It looked weird because I wondered why all that stuff appeared before her mere three-lined response. I was thinking to myself, “she did all this, to say that?” I figured that I’d better be careful, because even though I couldn’t understand the numbers and language before her response, I did figure it was something that was carbon copied to someone(s) else besides Lissa and me. I responded:
Melissa, you know what? you are my girl! You are C.R.A.Z.Y!!! Why would she be mad at me? I love Janet! I hope she loves me too! I’ve chatted with her…But I dunno….(On to another subject…Anyways did the other one I sent under firstname.lastname@example.org (with a capital L) reach you too? I’m curious about how case sensitive hotmail is….let me know) and by the way. WHY didn’t YOU send a bio to Leander’s page…? HUH? Huh girl…You are a mess. I hadn’t been in (Miss Janet chat) since January and I had to come in with yo crazy butt in there shaking the party up!…I liked chatting with you though. Also if you have IM let me know. Mine is Cinamon2u. Okay?
She didn’t respond until the next day:
Subject: Well I’ll be……
Date: Tue, 09 Mar 1999 19:51:05 PST
From: “Melissa Luke” email@example.com
To: Angela White firstname.lastname@example.org
Cinamon!!! Well I’ll be damned…
LOL..Cinamon girl I didn’t send a bio to the chatters page because my scanner was broken and couldn’t send in the pic! but I don’t think I’ll be sending one in now. I have too many crazy peeps stalking me! This one girl that lives out here (Cali) was hittin on me in IM! and Virgins ass lord he’s nuts!! anyway…I thought it was you who Janet told to get out of the dayum kitchen if they couldn’t take the heat. but I found out who that was Ms Dwell girl! I just jumped to conclusions I noticed your pic was gone and I thought you left!! But I see your back. FOR the record I do not stir up trouble! that’s not me! Anyway I need to scurry off to work 🙁
Here’s my IM name: Lockiejaws…but please don’t give it out…
PS- I like chatting with you too!!
The same day, I responded:
“Oh yeah. I was in when that happened. Actually it was Larielle that said, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! As a result of Janet and her entourage dissing me. I was more shocked than anything because that kind of disrespect don’t happen in my world. I go to cyber space and this million-dollar hoe is in there goin through the motions about my $2 ass! (which is what I said to her and her entourage)
I was gonna say some mean and hurtful shit to her but I didn’t want a hit put out on me!…cause I can get foul, rough rugged and raw girl…I mean I was really gonna let her have it. LOL But I don’t let too many things like that bother me. I just figured she needed to vent or whatever. I figured maybe she would explain what her reasons were (kinda sorta). And besides, Larielle was blocking out my responses so that I couldn’t get a word in but allowed them hoes to diss me and all I could do was watch. That’s cool. But that busted my head and chest girl. I was more shocked than anything.
Whatever their reasons were, if I was employed by her I would have simply told her, “you know, fuck this hoe and treat her like the mere fan that she is and send her the lil’ tape she wants and lets do our thing as normal.” I definitely wouldn’t have assisted her in making herself look bad like that. They are paid to make HER look good I believe, right? Well that day, they failed. That shit was I.L.L…I was kinda fucked up about it for a minute.
There WAS some subliminal shit going on and no one knew that it was me that she and her entourage were dissing but they knew like I knew that it was ME that they were talking to. I pretty much chilled because I wanted them to have their victory and I hope it made them feel better…really. I think there was a BIG misunderstanding that went on.
Because of that, I asked Lee to remove my information from the chatters page. I figured that if the hostess of the whole muthafuckin room had a problem with me, then why should I be there? She and her entourage were off the chain that day. It hurts me because I think there is some miscommunication going on. I am about 99.9% sure that I know exactly what it is. She would have done a lot better trying to pick me or talk it over rather than jumping to some bullshit conclusion. I opened the lines of communication but only got a response back that really didn’t let me know that everything was okay you know?
She used to be nice to me for a few days and then…I dunno. But I have a couple of ideas as to why it happened. But that’s alright. Aint shit I can do. ANYWAYS, girl Virgin still be in there girl? He is something else. I wont be back in chat, I just came in cause my girl wanted to see how it was. That’s the only reason in came in anyways…she bugged me to death for a few days to go…I have zero interest in coming to it anymore…I had the beemies down on me as usual anyways…That’s fucked up.”
Well I hadn’t heard back from LissssssafosdFOSD, which seemed weird to me because who wouldn’t want to gossip about anything that happened between a megastar and a mere fan? As silly as she was, and the way she was all over the room, I refused to believe she was anything less than an informant for Janet and on her payroll as well at this point…
But March 10 late afternoon she dropped in on IM to me:
Lockiejaws: (((((((((((((Cinamon))))))))))))))) this is LissaFOSD!!!!
Cinamon2u: hey LissssssafosdFOSD!!!!((((((((what’s up girl)))))))))) how are you?
Lockiejaws: I’m doing good!
Cinamon2u: Geez girl, u gotta work tonight?
Lockiejaws: yeah I gotta work at 5 tonight
(I paused without saying anything and she didn’t either-for an extremely long time)
Cinamon2u: what’s the matter Lockiejaws…cat got your tongue?
Lockiejaws: girl, I got your long ass email
Cinamon2u: oops, I see…you’re in…
Lockiejaws: lmao…shut up! I’m in several IMS
Cinamon2u: yeah, I am very detailed when trying to get my point across. Sorry J
Lockiejaws: lmao…girl but what tape did u want from Janet?
Cinamon2u: no I wanted some tape that she sang background on. One of her old background singers actually sang the song and this Jazz player played the trumpet it and it sounds the bomb. It was out back in 87 and they don’t sell it anymore. I loaned it to someone who cannot seem to find it and I am pissed about that!
Lockiejaws: girl, are you trying to figure out how to work IMS?
Lockiejaws: so you’re really not coming to chat anymore?
Cinamon2u: No I know how to use IMS! (though I’m not a computer buff like you!) lol! Girl no. my friend just wanted to see how it worked and all. I took her through a few. She kinda like Miss Thing too and wanted to check out her pretty pix…
Lockiejaws: lmao…no you didn’t call her Miss Thing! But I don’t think she was serious that day.
Cinamon2u: How do YOU know? 🙂
Lockiejaws: she has said not to take what she says seriously because I was in chat one time when she said it…I could be wrong tho 🙂
Cinamon2u: she is still cool with me still I don’t love her any less than b4. I was just… “lets see…in the dark” if you will…lol 🙂
Lockiejaws: lmfao…girl come on back to chat! Don’t pay LV no mind! (here I am talking ebonics!)
Cinamon2u: Miss Thing was a name I was tryna b cute with. When I think of her I think to call her Boogie-Woogie…
(she took a long time to respond)
Cinamon2u: you sure are boring me today…so what’s REALLY goin on? (ebonically speaking) lol J
Lockiejaws: lmao girl I am in several IM’S
Cinamon2u: I told you-you be working the room!
Lockiejaws: I can act a fool…I’m suppose to meet up with Alina, but I can’t because my car is still broken so I am pissed off LOL
Cinamon2u: Alina? FriendsofButtaVicePresident? From my city? Tell her CINAMON from the NASTINATI says hello!
Lockiejaws: Oh btw Alina was looking fo yo ass!
Cinamon2u: I liked Alina. She was real cool. BTW>>>>you need to get a Honda…you wou’en ha doze pro’lems…lol!
Lockiejaws: she wants to know something about apartments
(right here she raised my antennas because Alina had been born and raised in Cincinnati and had been there all her life and still had sisters, brothers, mom and dad still living in Cincinnati as memory served me correct. And I remembered she was attending college in Minneapolis-by the way, so I asked):
Cinamon2u: She moved to California near you?
Lockiejaws: lmao…girl I want one of those things! No she is visiting…she wanted to ask you about apartments.
She knew she had screwed up and rushed to get off IM and sent Alina on to talk to me. She too, really didn’t have too much to say-neither did I. She felt about as stupid as LockiejawsLISSA and “scurried” off as well. They all knew that they were not dealing with a fool but was willing to try and play their Jedi Mind Tricks I noticed.
One thing I am glad about is how I’d always save anything that I’d send over the computer. I figured after all this madness, I’d better go in and save a copy of the bios of LV, Rico, Janet, “Drama,” Trickster and WiseOne on the same disk, as well as anything that I’d saved thus far, since the January 21 morning that I was double dissed, in case the situation got deeper. I called the disk, the “BULLSHIT” disk. I called it bullshit because the bull is Janet’s zodiac signs symbol and all the things they were doing to me was pure shit. At any rate, the IM conversation between LockiejawsLISSA and me, made the BULLSHIT disc as well…
I walked back into the room later on, however.
Some chatter started singing: “Get Down, Boogie Oogie Oogie,” by Taste of Honey. So I sang the chorus right along with them. We went back and forth with it. The more I had thought about it, I knew that the person who started the song must had also been hired help as was Lissa, because I did remember mentioning to Lissa in our IM convo how I thought to call Janet “Boogie Woogie.” Anyhow, the Boogie Woogie singer and me, sat around joking and talking about how we both were telling our ages by singing that old song.
March 10 evening, Brie and me were talking in IM about the newspaper article a friend of mine brought to me about Trickster laying claims about Janet’s secret bisexual lifestyle and how he was going to write a book telling everything about it and the rest of her famous family.
Brie responded: “Calm down! You can’t believe everything you read.”
I said: “Well it’s not that I’m all hyper about it, I’m more shocked than anything to see them in smut mags because she really does a great job of keeping people out of her business. I just think that she should have just let him do his director thingy to make his own money and she should have kept him out of her business affairs and they probably wouldn’t have these problems, seeing as though he is asking her for millions of dollars stating he helped her with her career as well.”
“I AGREE…” said Brie.
Then all of a sudden I got a big crash of my computer telling me all of my files were being retrieved. The big grey Java script thingy that covered my monitor had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to accept, deny, grant, or modify the request. I was confused as hell, but out of all four options, the one that sounded best to me was to deny it.
My computer went back to mine and Brie’s private chat in IM, and I was telling her what was happening to me-hysterically. I was a basket case; thinking about all my materials for my writings, my books, my poems, my personal files and everything. I busted out the door crying and ran next door to use my cousins phone because I was afraid to reboot my system thinking that I would lose my files completely.
I called up to my schools computer lab office and told them what was happening to me and he informed me that what was happening sounded like more than a virus being sent to my computer. The only light he could shed on the entire thing was that he hoped I denied the request in time before activation took place. I cried like a baby.
It took about an hour or so for my computer to get back to normal and when I looked, all of my files were still there. When I checked my email, Brie had written to tell me of some error message she got telling her that I was “not available” when she was trying to get back into IM with me.
For the next couple of days, I was worried as hell. I then made duplicate copies of my-everything on disks to put away just in case this happened again.
Things were back to normal except that I could not access my email account that was set up for me by my college for some reason. Whenever I’d try to retrieve it, I’d get an error message that told ME that I was “performing an illegal operation” and then it kicked me completely out, only having to log back in from the beginning.
I was confused, but I knew I could just forget about my college email account because it was most probably under Janet’s control considering that had never happened before the big crash the other night. I knew immediately when I had talked to the people at the computer lab about what had happened, and because they couldn’t give me any solid answers as to what the crash could have been, that this was most definitely a job only some computer savvy person with tremendous resources could do.
Well, I really didn’t think she could be this computer savvy but I do know that she has the money to pay someone else who is, and that perhaps it was me who passed the “test” that Rico was “testing” after all, with an A+…
I’d printed copies of the email that LockiejawsLissaFOSD sent me that March 8th day-the very same one that I figured was carbon copied to more people than just she and I. The lab guys at school pointed out where she had sent the original virus through to me by identifying my ISP (Internet Service Provider) and TCP/IP numbers of my computer, which was what the weird arrows and language was all about that confused me so.
“How could this have happened?” I asked the lab tech.
“Oh easily, let me ask you a question, have you ever been in a chat room or chatted with anyone?”
“Yes I have,” I responded.
He then said, “well when you enter those rooms, you make yourself very vulnerable. Did the person(s) who ran the chat room have your email address?”
“Yes,” I replied.
He responded, “see, it’s just like you are standing next to me and I can see what you have on and you can see what I have on. The difference is, the person who did this to you could see you and you couldn’t see them because you do not run a control room in your house, nor do you have the resources, and you’re obviously are not computer savvy enough to know how that works because you’re talking to me about your problem.”
I cried more. There was nothing he could do to offer me any remedy for my problem except never to go into another chat room. I assumed the exception to that rule was Janet’s chat room because they already got all that they-wanted?
March 11, located on my Netscape home page; there was a line that read: “You’re witty. So is she. Let the quips fly.” Immediately I was drawn to it, so I selected it. When the page unfolded, there was an advertisement for Netscape’s Webmail Service that seemed rather attractive.
I went to the dictionary to look up the word “quips” to see what it meant: “A clever remark or witty saying,” is what the word’s meaning said to me. The first person that came to mind was LockiejawsLissa, Ms. Control’s other hired help who obviously delivered the email between she and I that revealed the spicy side of “Cinamon.” I accepted the email account, knowing that this was obviously something that Ms. Control wanted so that she could communicate, apologize, or explain I’d hoped.
When it was completed, I’d gone into my Netscape Communicator field, like I normally would, to access my schools email addy, and at the top portion of this page sat my school email account-given back to me, and at the very bottom-looking like hell, sat the new Netscape email account looking as it I was “given” my school’s email account back to me only after accepting it. I knew then that this was how I was going to have to deal with her: me giving a lot and her giving little by little. I’d already given a lot since day one; she on the other hand, already had a whole lotta catching up to do…
By this time, I’d sent a couple emails to a couple friends, from my college email addy, and my two Hotmail accounts, but I did not receive any responses back from either person. So from the Netscape email that was offered to me, and one of my Hotmail accounts; one evening, I’d sent my college professor emails from both-asking him a question about a task assignment and he never responded.
So the next day in class I’d asked him if he ever received ANY emails from me at all, and he hadn’t, so that confirmed what I had thought: when I had set up the Netscape email that was sitting so beautifully advertised in my face that evening, my two Hotmail accounts and my school email account were being put under the control of Miss Control herself. She must have somehow been able to control Hotmail accounts, which disabled any mail coming to and from it as well as my school email account.
So I knew that the Netscape email account was pretty much on lockdown and for “our” use only, and since all my email accounts were under her control, I knew I could just email myself from my Hotmail account to my school email account and/or the new Netscape account, because either way; she would be able to read whatever I write to and from either one-so I did just that-emailed myself, that way, I wouldn’t even have to email “Drama” or LockiejawsLissa regarding our “situation.” That way was best anyways, so that I wouldn’t be arrested for “stalking” her.
Since “BUZZ” was one of Trickster’s many nicknames, I figured I’d give the email that particular subject title which would definitely get her attention. I gave it a try by emailing myself from my school email account to one of my Hotmail accounts:
TO: Angela White email@example.com
SUBJECT: (BUZZ) 4 your ear
DATE: SAT, 13 MAR 1999 15:42:08
GOT YOUR ATTENTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALL HAIL TO THE QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!DAYUUM…I GOTTA BOW DOWN…
Contrary to popular belief, my goal in life is not to be a nemesis of you. It’s fucked up that whatever is going on, you leave me without the “choice” to decide if I wanted to make that a goal or if I should decide that I do not like you because of all this bullshit. You know, at first, this “CONTROL” thingy was a real catchy tune. Artists started using it in their songs and jingles and shit-all that.
Now, I must once again lay out the red carpet for you QUEENJANET, you are a control freak. Your need for “control” is like the understatement of the year. I have to give it to you. You got it. The only problem is, that when you are controlling something, someone or a situation, and they are not aware of the reason WHY, that makes you (the control freak) a control coward, which is just like having no control at all.
You leave the person, thing or situation no choice to decide if they would like to go toe to toe with you or if they would like to call a truce and allow you to reclaim your control title as the undefeated challenger, who is DEFINITELY in control. “You’re witty, so is she, let the quips fly?” Witty is not when you have control over a situation, person or thing and they don’t. Witty is not having some weak mu’fuckas beaming down on me with these weak ass mufuckas tryna “pick” someone as “witty” as me. Witty is not beaming down and commandeering my whole console; consuming my whole thought process.
That’s weak. This is bothering me to no end that you are sitting back like the unseen VJ AS IF you totally have nothing to do with it, when yo ass aint been undercover since I laid the red carpet out for you two months ago, in YOUR room (how’s THAT for control). So all these drastic measures are like futile. On a personal level, I had at first come a new and to and deeper level of understanding of you but you are scratchin’ real low in that department. I will take into account that if were a normal scenario, I really think you would come out swinging, but seeing as though you can trust too many people, right now especially, I feel your plight girl.
You probably feel like the way you are going about this is your safest route. Well, let me inform you that contrary to the belief of you and your employees, I am extremely harmless to you and am no threat to you or your world. Once again, my goal in life is not to be a nemesis of you. (Be rested and assured of that fact, believe me)
Now, I gave you my number AND provided you with the DIRECT and necessary tools to open up any lines of communication, to no avail. Now here it is, you want to go through all these drastic measures only proving to me what a coward you REALLY are, rather than flying straight AS IF you are leaving a clean slate, AS IF I would ever believe that all this shit wasn’t orchestrated because of and by way of you (the unseen VJ, the control coward who has the wit of a chicken).
My sole purpose for writing you is to inform you and prove to you that I am not trying to hurt or gain anything from you. I started off as a normal fan like anybody else up in your room, and now you got me all hooked up like Cyber Lucy! This shit is ill.
I’m willing to do whatever YOU feel is necessary for you to put your guns down and call the dogs off. (AND have been since the beginning). SO HOW THAT FOR CONTROL?
So take your time, dig into your faculties and decide on whatever you feel comfortable with, and CINAMON will be much obliged. Because I am done giving audience to this mess.
P.S-they say shit happens for a reason. I hope that all that you have read from my files has fed and put at ease ya lil soul, mind, your soul and ya lil heart. I aint mad at you. Foreal. I understand. I just feel you could have gone about it a better way. So again, as I informed the girl whose jaws weren’t on lock the other day: Your employees are paid to make YOU look good I believe. Well, two months ago, and this time, they failed. This was THE tackiest job ever. It woulda worked on some other weak bitch, but I aint her… Be good and be careful…Out.
After I sent that email, my email school email addy was completely taken away-again. I tried over and over to go into my Netscape Communicator field, like normal, and the familiar rectangular error message would show up telling me that I have “performed an illegal operation therefore this program will shut down,” again, and kicked me completely out of the system.
I then sat down and studied my Netscape home Page and saw the word “webmail” there and opened it. When I got through it, it allowed me to enter my password so that I could get into the Netscape (hell) Mail account “offered” to me by her in exchange for giving me back my school email addy that one day. When the hell box opened, I still had no responses back from the two people I emailed, nor the professor, which confirmed they were intercepted…
So I wrote this to let her know I knew just what was going on:
CLOSE!!!!!!!!! But no cigar, since you are accessing my emails. Hold on, I got one coming to you from another email addy of mine (seeing as thought yous blocked the hotmail domain to look AS IF anything I’ve sent from hotmail did not reach-namely the BUZZ email that yous DID pick up outta MY college email acct. Yous aren’t smart as you think you are. Well have fun cause now yo ass is about to be bored cause I’m bout to pull all this shit outta my wall. Please go back to your life and let me ignore you by going on to my la-di-da life. I hope whatever it is you are looking for is found out correctly so that you can leave my ass alone! I’m SICK of you…
A couple days had gone by, and I was carrying on with my busy life as usual. On Sunday mornings I liked to get up at 7:00 to watch my favorite Televangelist named Charles Stanley. Religion, politics and sex are subjects that I don’t like to discuss (especially in an open forum) because when it comes to religion, everybody has their own philosophy about how and if, the world is going to end and whether God is a man or woman, black or white, brown eyes or blue eyes, whether God and Jesus are one or two separate entities/people-all that.
My take on it is that religion is like the “backbone of support” that many of us need; kind of moral order, as opposed to many other kinds of “orders” (i.e “social) that many of us adhere or conform to for our own personal reasons.
Looking back on it, when people were oppressed (by slavery) the only hope, and light we had to fall back on was church and God, so I believe that has been carried on from generation to generation through now, so normally, the people who are “less fortunate” (monetarily) usually lean toward religion and God as their backbone and possible stairway to “heaven.”
Then you have other religions/faiths who believe in everlasting life-the ones who stress the importance of good karma and what you put out into the world coming back to you and how important it is that you do good as opposed to evil so that you may have everlasting life.
Then you have other “religions” or “faiths” that interject a kind of psychology into religion, who prefer the “common sense/logical” approach to life and religion, and whose focus is on coming to terms with a lot of things in your life and how important it is to look into the psyche to determine rights and wrongs and the things about the personal self that predetermine what your destiny will or wont be. Those are usually the faiths or religions of choice for the more “fortunate” (monetarily).
So if you ask the “less fortunate” group their take on the “more fortunate” group, chances are that they’ll tell you that the more “fortunate” group have made themselves comfortable with the philosophy that the world is never coming to and end because they have grown accustomed to their style of living here on earth and they know that they are not able to take the worldly things that they’ve accumulated here on earth to heaven.
Then if you ask the “more fortunate” group to rebut the “less fortunate” group’s take, the philosophy that they give behind the whole thing makes just as much sense. So me? I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself because I see some truth behind both takes on it.
I do however, think that the common goal should be one in the same, which is what I hope that every church, mosque or whatever, sheds light on; and that is peace and love brings about happiness and togetherness, and that we all should work together to see to it that our fellow man is not hurt, betrayed or manipulated by us and vice versa. So regardless what religion or faith everyone practices, the common goal, should really one in the same-is how I feel about it.
Sunday, March 14. Every Sunday morning, I’d get up and watch my guy because I like the underlying point of the whole sermon. 7:17am I got the call:
“Hello, may I speak to Janet?” said the caller.
“You have the wrong number,” I replied.
“Okay,” said the caller, and she hung up.
It was that damned “Drama.”
I was confused; because I knew I hadn’t given Janet or “Drama” my second line number-the Busta line (the one also for bill collectors). I remembered when I emailed “Drama” after she and Janet dissed me that day; I gave her 513-721-1552 (my real number) not my busta/bill collector number-that phone number was: 513-721-7220-and that was the one “Drama” called.
I thought long and hard about how she could have even gotten it, and remembered that when she accessed all my files; that particular phone number was listed for business purposes-school, publishers and agents, and I used it for my fax number as well. She probably elected to call the number thinking I wouldn’t answer on a Sunday morning, since Lissa brought it out that it was for bill collectors, and she learned after going through my files that she hunted and gathered; that it was also used for agents, school, publishers and faxes.
That worried me, because that also meant that if she read the files THAT carefully to find the busta line phone number, then she also had access to my social security number too, which was also located in some of these files adorned with the busta/business/bill collector phone number. So not only had I willingly given her information about me since the first day I walked into her room, she also gathered many things about me unwillingly-by just taking them and setting up shop in my virtual world. So I sent this email (to myself) from my Netscape email account to my school email account that I knew she’d receive anyways:
Subject: Re: [Re: [QUESTION!!!!!!!!!]]
Date: 16 Mar 99 05:56:39 PST
To: Angela White firstname.lastname@example.org
Furthermore. Proof that your crew aint as skilled as you’s think you are. That weak as phone call on Sunday morning from Butta talkin’ bout “Hello may I speak to Janet?” (and on my 7220 busta, bills and business line) I gave you and Butta 1552 (my normal line)so that is proof positive that she could’ve only gotten it from my work in my hard drive files that are in your possession AND/OR my emails that yous are retrieving.
I wish I could help you with whatever you’re needing but since I am in the dark still and you’re the control coward that you are, I’m afraid I cannot. You know ironically Janet, when you had your girl call my house asking for you, I happened to have been watching my guy Charles Stanley Ministries (he’s an evangelist ya know…)
Well anyhow, guess what the lesson was girl?….MY ASSURANCE THAT GOD IS IN CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Isn’t that ironic. Shit, you aint got control and neither do I…lol! You NEED to slow ya roll, and you shoulda had somebody like ME on ya payroll…cause day’ aint on nay shit!!!! (and neither are you!!!!) Trust me for the last time. I DO NOT KNOW WHY YOU ARE FUCKING ON MY TAIL? I AINT GOT NOTHING THAT IS OF BENEFIT TO YOU>>>SHIT GIRL I AINT EVEN GOT GAS IN MY DAMN CAR! (WITH MY $2 ASS…LOL) LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE OR FLY STRAIGHT (LIKE I SAID)
Quit trying to make me your enemy…Have a nice life…gone back to your world cause I’m on my way back to mine. Also…I forgot to mention. My two books are filed at the Library of Congress (AS IS) as well as my incomplete work (filed AS IS) at the Library of Congress. I send them about $20-$120 a week because I make so many changes in the files…I know you are a shrewd business woman and I’m sure you don’t want no problems…
It will be then that I’ll take you there and will be your worst nightmare and enemy…When you’re ready to fly straight and tell me what is really goin on, I’ll be there to assist you…I know you probably are soooooo embarrassed but, don’t feel that way cause I understand…(and I’m not being sarcastic)…I’ll just laugh it off with you whenever you decide to fly straight. I’m cool about it…
Don’t waste your time because I’m getting disconnected from the entire my entire college internet connection…so curtains down, shows over…go read some fan mail!!!!!!
On with my virtual world, sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair listening to “Computer Blue” by Prince off the Purple Rain Soundtrack from my CD Rom…
I continued to carry on like business as usual.
Luckily I’d been done with my first book right before all the riff raff had taken place because on my computer at home, (since the day of the big crash) the only thing I felt secure in working on were my papers for school. Because since the crash, I remember how I’d be checking MTV News screen regularly to see what was going on, and after a while, I was mysteriously blocked out from accessing it from the normal route/links I’d take to get to it. In order for me to get to it, I had to find it this looong route, pages away from the simple link that I used to use to get in, and eventually, I just gave up.
Then I remembered how one day I was checking out a bio for one of my favorite singers: Faith Evans, there was a page to be downloaded into a Plug-In, which took about 15 minutes, and when I got to the 14th minute/59th second, the entire thing got deleted. I waited until the next day to see if what happened was just a mistake, so I had gone to her bio again, and before we could get into the 14th minute this time, the entire page was dropped-again…
That very same night, I needed to work on a couple sections of my second book, so what I did was cut and pasted the sections I needed to work on, rather than opening the whole book. When I’d gotten done, the paragraph in the book where I talked about the protagonist and her lesbian relationship with another girl, had totally vanished-I could not find it at all. I knew I wasn’t crazy, because it took me a while to re-write the section. Later, in another part of the book where I was talking about something totally different, I found it. I knew I hadn’t put it there-somebody else did.
In the ‘Find all files section,’ I discovered typed in; a line from the “missing paragraph” that she must had cut and pasted someplace where she obviously thought I wouldn’t find it. I knew that she had to have done it, because I sure as hell didn’t need to “Find all files” to search for it until she forced me to, because I already knew where to find it-I’M the author. That really worried me, and I asked myself “is she somehow able to share my computer with me?” I really wondered. I did know however, that from that point on, I could not do ANY of my work that had to do with my books on my computer at home (even if I did it section by section) which really pissed me off. She also knew that I loved music, therefore, she removed my entire Rolling Stone Music icon from the homepage, which would link me to the Message Posting Boards that I liked to read; just so I couldn’t get into it. That baffled me.
About a week later when I checked it, the icon was there again. I remembered that I had posted a message on Rolling Stones’ Message Board regarding the “Queen Bee”/Lil’ Kim back before my computer was commandeered, where I stated what my opinion was of her and her music vs. the criticism she receives in the public. I’d saved a copy of my message that I posted to keep for my records, and when the real QUEEN got copies of all my files on my hard drive, she got a copy of it too, which let her know that I did visit Rolling Stones’ Message Board, which is why she decided to remove that luxury from me-I guess.
Unbeknownst to her, I had only felt the need to leave that message for THAT particular rap star, even though there are other musicians I adore, or respect or have an opinion about, she was the only one I ever left a message about. I hadn’t even left a message for Faith or even Miss Control herself, and I love them too. I was just bored one night and felt like mentioning that short message on Lil’ Kim’s Message Board.
I had tried to go back to Lil’ Kim’s message board over and over to see if anybody else had posted a message to rebut or agree with what I had to say, and could not even get through to it at all. There was an error message that read:
HTTP Error 404 Not Found
The Web Server cannot find the file or script you asked for. Please check the URL to ensure that the path is correct.
Please contact the server administrator if the problem persists.
I even picked out some artists that were currently defunct; to see if I could get through, and still couldn’t, which let me know that she somehow blocked me out of accessing the entire Message Board at all-for anybody.
“Why the hell would she do something like that?” I wondered.
Then I thought back at the time how since like ’96, her Message Board guard dog boyfriend had posted messages barking at people who would say things against her on the board under her name, however, and when I checked last, he hadn’t posted any messages since like a week before TV stated they were going through a breakup.
It was then that I figured that she probably thought that some kind of sneaky shit was going on, or soon would be, which was why she turned on me and talked about me so bad that January day. That was why I had been so many bitches and hoes that day. That must be the reason for all this real “drama” going on.
As much a tried to put it out of my mind and tell myself that that couldn’t be so, the pieces were finally coming together and me knowing the “me” that I am, I knew I had the pieces put together because I know how women are, especially the mindset of the “ego” of a woman when there is a man involved.
I know the routes and measures any woman would take if she feels in any way threatened that another woman is tampering with her “ego” or her “man,” regardless whether or not she is unsightly or pretty, fat or skinny, rich or poor-it doesn’t matter, and Janet with her beautiful, rich, and sexy self-8 minute abs and all, is no exception to that rule.
I dug deep into my faculties to try and figure out what could have been said or done to make her fly off the handle the way she did with me, enough to dump him after 13 years anyway. I wondered what could have been said or done to make him threaten to not only to go public with her personal life and lifestyle, but to also tell all that he had known about her famous family as well-that baffled me to no end.
Of course me telling this story to anyone looking at a woman working a part time Penny Annie ass job and going to school living off a mere paycheck and school loans; a notion like this would seem so far fetched, but by this time, I knew what was really going on and that it would not rocket scientist to put A and B together to get C. To me, this was just one of those things that I got caught in the middle of, that I wish I never had with Janet or any other woman period. I’m more than sure that if her reason for leaving him was because of his “skirt chasing ways” I certainly wasn’t the reason; besides, I had on jeans anyways when I met him…
I know how relationships can be, so I knew I wasn’t the catalyst-but perhaps just the straw that broke the camels back. The scariest part about it all is that if Miss Control didn’t get to the bottom of it, she could have me killed and make a new “me” if she saw fit to, and get away with it, because no one would believe a story as such because my “little world” and “word” is so different from her “big word” and her “big world-” status & moneys power. Therefore, she could get away with all that she saw fit to do and no one would ever know or believe “little ole me” anyways. March 21, I sent this:
Hey check it. I am like having trouble with my freakin’ file. Look, on the forealla note, my fuckin’ chest in actually broken up about this whole thing and I am only on the defense because your offense puts me in that particular position. I really do not like being that way with you to be honest but I guess whatever it is you are doing or feeling like you have to do I am sure you have your reasons why, that’s why I am really not as perturbed as I normally would be.
I just wished I wasn’t so much in the dark about it. That’s what’s pissing me off because actually I am totally harmless to you, as you’ll soon see… But I really really really don’t know what else to say accept that I hope all this blows over because I am tired. Don’t feel “a way” because just as I am very understanding that you did all that you felt you had to do for your reasons (whatever they may be) I hope you also understood my defenses and did not take them personally, because I wouldn’t want that…
I’m just REAL fuckin CONFUSED Jack I swear…Like I said, whenever you are ready to put your guns down, I will be much obliged. Seriously, take your time and dig deep into your faculties do decide on what route you personally feel is safest enough to make you call the dogs off and put your guns down. Shit I just don’t know what else to say. But whatever you need, get it solved real soon because I really really reallyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy hate this shit man I swear…I hope everything is okay with you seriously.
I checked Hell Mail and got no response, and I got no more strange calls to the house either. I still never came back to the room, however, but I wasn’t at all happy with the control she had over my computer. I just made myself content with the fact that I had extra copies of everything that I’d ever done, put away on other disks. I could not afford to buy another computer, and had been done with the first book anyways.
Soon thereafter, I had gotten a letter from the senior editor at Kensington Pinnacle Books, stating that they were interested in my work after receiving a query and synopsis. They asked me to send them the complete manuscript. I was so ecstatic because I didn’t have an agent as yet-and to have such a “big” publisher ask “little ole ME” for my “big ole work” after sending them a mere query letter really made me happy. “Maybe the end to all this madness is near,” I thought to myself.
So the next day I woke up bright and early to get the manuscript printed. My day turned out horrible when I went up to Kinko’s to print the pages of my book-I had given three of their computers viruses from my discs and I couldn’t print from my discs at all.
The computers crashed and made plopping sounds with red and blue notices popping up informing me that my discs were virused. I was livid, because this whole thing took me by surprise-again. The lady at Kinko’s informed me that I would have to go pick up an anti-virus kit to clean all my discs and my hard drive files at home and I did just that. I bought it, downloaded it and cleaned the hard drive files and all of my discs and went back up to Kinko’s. Though the plopping thingy didn’t come back up, it still would not print from my discs. Cried like a baby again. I was anxious, short on time, and short on money.
I went back to the store where I bought the anti-virus kit from, and purchased a lil’ $100 printer to just print the files from my hard drive at home. The printer didn’t print worth shit when I got it home. It took almost an hour to print like 40 pages and I had 324 pages to print. I just sat at my desk, listening to my music in my CD ROM, in my comfortable black Futon chair, looking at the possessed computer in front of my face.
Then I just unhooked the printer and took it back to the store. I went back to Kinko’s and tried saving my manuscript from my disc onto their hard drive (since it wouldn’t print from my disc-that was not write-protected) and printed it from there-and that worked. It just wouldn’t print from my discs as if they were somehow locked. When I’d press “print,” it’d just sit there. When I saw my manuscript printing from Kinko’s hard drive, a smile came across my face, I felt like I defeated her in some way. I wrote the cover letter to the senior editor, packaged it, and sent it off that day. When I ran the Anti-Virus check however, this is what I got:
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:45:46, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\BUZZ 4 YOUR EAR.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:47:10, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:48:40, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\SOPHI.docwas infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\KS Note to editorial staff.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\ks query GENERAL .doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\KS Synopsis for manuscript submission.doc was infected with the
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU Note to editorial staff.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\mu query AFRICAN AMERICAN.doc was infected with the W97M.Class
virus. The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The fileA:\mu query GENERAL .doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU Synopsis for manuscript submission.doc was infected with the
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:53:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MY BIO.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:55:24, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\astrology book topics.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:55:24, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\astrology book.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:56:40, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:59:04, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\NAIV.doc was
infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:59:04, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\INNO .doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 20:59:04, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\ksTITLE PAGE from the author dedication disclaimer acknwldgmnts
introduction conclusion.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/26/99, Time: 21:00:12, angela on DEFAULT
The fileA:\SOPHI .doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:45:50, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU.docwas infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:50:30, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\Adlibs.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:50:30, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU .doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\March 8 Social Psychology Paper.doc was infected with the
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\March 12 Social Psychology Paper.doc was infected with the
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\March 10 Psych of Aging Interviewee Paper.doc
was infected with the W97M.Groov.B virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\Feb 10 Social Psy
chology Paper.doc was infected with the W97M.Class
virus. The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\Feb 22 Social Psych Paper.doc was infected with the W97M.Class virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 0:54:06, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\March 5 Abnormal Psych Paper.doc was infected with the W97M.Groov.A
virus. The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\Program Files\Microsoft Office\Templates\Normal. Dot was infected with
the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC3.DOC was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC6.DOC was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC21.DOC
was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC36.DOC was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC29.DOC was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\RECYCLED\DC41.DOC was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The file C:\My Documents\MU.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:06:20, angela on DEFAULT
The fileC:\My Documents\NAIV.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:27:12, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\NAIV.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:27:14, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\ksTITLE PAGE from the author dedication disclaimer acknwldgmnts
introduction conclusion.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:45:22, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\NAIV.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:54:54, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\MU.doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/27/99, Time: 14:54:54, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\makes you wanna speak kindness to everyone in your life.doc was infected
with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/30/99, Time: 20:39:46, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\KS Synopsis for manuscript submission.doc is infected with the
No action was taken.
Date: 3/30/99, Time: 20:39:46, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\mu query GENERAL .doc is infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
No action was taken.
Date: 3/30/99, Time: 20:46:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\KS Synopsis for manuscript submission.doc was infected with the
The file was repaired.
Date: 3/30/99, Time: 20:46:26, angela on DEFAULT
The file A:\mu query GENERAL .doc was infected with the W97M.Ethan.A virus.
The file was repaired.
That day took me through hell, and all I could ask myself was “why? Why would she invade my life this way and try to sabotage my work? What the hell on earth could make this woman with her “big things” from her “big world” come down into my “little world” and do “big thangs” to me? She got hers, and I got mine to get! This is just insane and inhumane!” Was all I could think to myself.
On with my virtual reality.
I checked my email and I got a message from crazy Brie on Saturday April 10th 1999 that upset me:
Subject: I wish to contact you on the ICQ Network
FROM: “Donna Strouse (ICQ#30799226)” email@example.com
DATE: Sat, 10 Apr 1999 11:40:36 +0500
Hey Aunt Kay…
Here is another one of those interesting programs that I have that you can chat on in Internet with…Just about everyone I chat with likes this one better than AOL…It’s got more features and it even checks your email for you so you don’t have to go to your mailbox all the time. I have tried to contact you on the ICQ network but was unable to find you. Therefore I would like to invite you to join the ICQ Network. You can download ICQ from this html link. Once you do it, we will be able to communicate on-line. Click here to download ICQ: www.icq.com/ I have 4 addys on the ICQ network: -My ICQ number is 30799226
-My Personal Communication Center on the Web, from which you can send me a message without having the ICQ Program is wwp.mirabilis.com/30799226
-You can send me an email express, which will appear directly on my computer screen to firstname.lastname@example.org
-My personal ICQ homepage is members.icq.com/30799226. If I am online you will be able to have a 2-way dialog with me from this page, which includes the World Wide Paging of ICQ
Seek you @ ICQ
Donna Strouse “Brie” ICQ#30799226
When I got Brie’s email, I was LIVID, because I had told her more than once, that I was not interested in the ICQ program and that it was entirely too “virtual” for me. When I got the email, I could tell that though she titled it “Aunt Kay,” she sent it to me on purpose to act like it was done by mistake but still trying to persuade me to get the ICQ program for some strange reason. I really thought she was zigadeeboo then.
Immediately I sent her an email explaining to her how I’d told her several times before that I was not interested in that damned ICQ program and how very irritated with her I was. I demanded that she never to ask me about it again. She never responded. For the next three days, I’d check for her on IM and she wouldn’t be online anymore at all. Three days off-line for Brie meant she must had died or something, because she never logged off line it seemed like, but I guess that scared her crazy ass away and off line too-finally…
April 13, I entered my house. Coming into my own house felt so weird to me. I lived in a two family where I’d just have to walk up about six steps to get into my front door, and getting to the door seemed like such a process since Janet. When I turned the key to my door, I looked over to my right, where my possessed computer sat right by the window; entertained by my comfortable black Futon chair looking as if my music from my CD Rom was about to play itself. That whole corner looked so spooky.
I had a habit of coming into the house and wiggling my computers mouse to turn on the monitor light, but this time, it didn’t come on. I wiggled and wiggled and wiggled it and it still didn’t. I rebooted the entire computer over and over and still couldn’t get a picture on the monitor, so I figured it must had blown out. It looked like a picture tube that is blown out of a television, but I never heard tell of that happening to a computer monitor. I knew something was blown out, but it seemed weird because the little green light of the on/off button to the monitor would come on when I’d push it, but the screen was still black.
I went over to my mom’s to borrow one of her monitors because she had about three of them around the house that she wasn’t using. When I got it home, I hooked it up and it still didn’t come on. Instead, I got some colored lines that would come in and go right back out. This particular monitor was practically new, so right then and there, I knew this probably had something to do with Miss Control herself.
“What next?” I asked myself.
That damned Janet, in control like Janet, dammit, as if this really were her planet…”
- excessive desire for acquiring or having desire for more than one needs or deserves
“I took a deep breath and drove up to my schools computer lab. I logged into her chat room and just sat there. It was entirely different now. You could not lurk anymore like before. Now, you had to sign in before you could even see the script to talk to anyone. I immediately went to the chatters page section to see if my picture and bio was still down, and they did me one better; instead, the entire page was gone. The note said that the chatters page was “under construction,” I just bet it was…
“Qbenlyric2” came down and said hello to me. I said hello to him/her. S(he) started in by telling me that s(he) was in love with me and thought I was so very beautiful. I looked over at the blank chatters page that was “under construction” again, to see if my memory served me correct-again. I wondered how (again) “Qbenlyric2” could have known that I was “beautiful,” but I didn’t ask, because at this point I knew that “Qbenlyric2” was Janet’s seductive self. And she too, knew that I knew.
“I have a secret to tell you,” she said.
“Yes, I’m listening, tell me-please,” I replied.
“I’m a closet romantic…” she said.
Speechless, my heart started pounding and my fingers got stiff.
“I WANT YOU,” she yelled in a whisper.
My eyes got big: “Yeah, I’m at the computer lab at my school because I’m a little computer blue at home you see…”
“Oh yeah Cinamon?”
(I then imagined her laughing at me; brows up, shaking her neck, lips tight and eyes squinted and whispering, “you DAMNED right”).
“I want you! I love you. I put that on my first born,” she said-truthfully.
“Yeah? I want you too, but it’s kind of difficult talking to you like I’d like to at a computer lab you know?” I replied.
“Yeah I KNOW,” she laughed. “So what’s up? I would move to your city if you wanted me to! *packing…lol” she said. I returned the laugh.
“Cinamon. I want you. Do you want me?” she demanded to know.
“Yes, yes I do,” I assured her.
“So what’s it gonna be woman? Can I come to see you? I can be there in about 3hrs,” she said.
Chris and Dread were making comments about what Qbenlyric2 and me thought was a subliminal sexual convo in the middle of the chat room. She and I were carrying on like nobody else was there, picking up where the “QUEEN” and me left off, as if nothing ever happened. This time however, we were carrying on something terrible, like we just walked into the door sweating, impatiently waiting to get to one another. Preoccupied with her, I ignored Chris and Dread who couldn’t believe what we were doing and saying. In awe, I was thinking to myself, “is this what the hell she wanted all this time?”
“So what’s it gonna be woman? Can I come see you? I can be there in about 3hrs. I’m in Maryland. I’ll move to where you are if you want me too. *packing…so what’s it gonna be, can I come or what. Tell me now woman!” she demanded to know.
I paused a second. Then she asked: “What is it? Is it lil bit?” (talking about my kid).
“No…” I replied.
“Then, I’m packing, so what’s its gonna be? Girl I’ll pack my things and move there to be with you if you want me too!” she confessed again.
I was kinda giggling in my own virtual world, because of her aggressiveness, but I felt safe since my face wasn’t on the chatters page, and because I was sure that she set this whole thing up anyways, so that I would be forced to come in to the room.
I responded: “So what girl, what cho’ want from me. You want me to stress you out a lil bit? Huh?” I giggled, while thinking nasty thoughts.
She paused a while, and laughed at me in her (virtual) world with her brows up and said to me: “Cinamon, I think you need to go home. Go home now. We need to talk on IM,” then she gave me her info to go to the private line with her. I wrote it down.
“So I can go home now?” I asked. Wondering about my blackout.
“Yes, go home now and get online with me,” she said.
“Okay I’m on my way there now. It takes me about 5 minutes to get to my house but since it is rush hour, I know I’ll be in within the next twenty minutes, for sure okay?” I said.
“I don’t care just go home and get on with me,” she said.
I rushed home, and got there in less than ten minutes.
When I got in the house, the computer was up and running like nothing was ever wrong with it, so I logged in to IM:
“I’ve been waiting for you…” she whispered seductively.”
“I’m so happy to be talking to you. I miss you so much. I was so mad at you at first, but I want to tell you that I love you. I love you so much,” she said to me.
I took a deep swallow and was speechless at this point.
“Cinamon, I WANT YOU! I can fulfill your every emotional, mental and physical need. I promise you,” said this wild woman.
(I immediately knew she must had read my files, because in one of them in particular, I talk about my emotional, mental, spiritual and physical needing stimulated before I am able to commit myself to a relationship).
I responded: “I’m not understanding, what happened, why all the madness a while back?”
She said: “I was so hurt and mad at you when you left all that time and didn’t come back, I missed you so much that I ached. Why did you leave me? I love you,” she said to me.
“And I love you too,” I said. I wanted to have her go over why she did what she did, but I figured she didn’t want to talk about it right then, since she brushed over it by responding they way she did anyways. I was thinking about putting this IM convo on the BULLSHIT disc, but I figured if she had the power to turn my computer on and off, then I was more than sure she would be able to tell if I was saving things on the disc, so I didn’t bother, and this time, it seemed like she was in no mood to bullshit. I also wanted her to trust me, so that we could get to the bottom of things and then get this party started.
She proceeded to tell me how she and “Bit” (the name she started to refer to when she would speak of “Drama”) were both looking at the screen not believing that it was me talking to them. Bit then wanted to say hello to me. I said hello back to her. Janet said she was happy. Me? I was confused.
“Do you really love me?” she asked.
“Yes I do. I was just in the dark about what happened, therefore I got a little upset,” I said.
“Oh Cinamon I love you so much. I wanted to know all this time if you loved me too and it was “Bit” who proved to me that you did. The letters-at first I didn’t think you did, but “Bit” told me that she knew you loved me,” she said innocently and naively.
Though I wasn’t lying to her, I was thinking, “oh my god, she couldn’t be this gullible, she couldn’t be.”
Then she said: “I just want you know how much you’ve changed my life, you saved my life!”
I responded: “Well I hoped the information (the books) was very useful and helpful to you. That was the main thing. So that makes me feel good to know baby.”
At this point, I began to feel somewhat warm to her. She was so candid, and naively raw:
“Yes I need you. I miss you so much it hurts. I ache,” she confessed.
“I really miss you and I really do love you,” I confessed with my softened kool-aid smile; feeling like putty in her hands.
“I have something for you Cinamon,” she said seductively.
“Cinamon, I’m telling you now that I BE DA MAN! I got 9 and a 1/2 inches of strap for you. He’s called Mr. Happy. He’s like a caramel and creamy color,” she said.
“How wide is it?” I asked.
“About 3 inches wide,” she said. “So what, what’s it gonna be woman. Should me and Bit finish packing?”
I got quiet again for a sec.
She then said: “I don’t want to put you under any pressure, I just want to give you a good swab down.”
I responded: “Well, to be honest with you I didn’t see you in that way.”
“What do you mean, what do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, I’m saying that I saw to have you ‘my way‘ and to have me ‘your way‘ just seems weird cause I never saw you that way,” I said, trying hard to play thoughts out in my head of her getting freaky butch femme-like.
“Well, I’m telling you right here and right now I BE DA MAN! I’m gonna make you feel so good. Tell me how you like it and what you like and I’m gonna do it,” she offered.
My heart pounded and dropped down to my pants:
“Well DAMN, I must say, you done punked me way out. I am like so punked out until it aint even funny,” I laughed and confessed.
She asked me to tell her how I liked it, I told her, and we proceeded to speak our nasty thoughts.
“You sound so cute telling me you feel punked out. I’m gonna make you feel so good my Angel boo. I love you. I’m soooo happy I’m talking to you now. Now I can quit walking around the house singing the love songs that remind me of you to Bit,” she said.
“Sing one to me then,” I asked.
“Those are songs for marriage. Are we married? LoL,” I said.
“I would marry you if I were a man!” she said.
“I think we are married now…LoL, at least we can pretend we’re married,” I said.
“Yes, Cinamon we can, we really can,” she responded…
I thought it would be interesting being able to pass notes about music and poetry that touched me in various ways with somebody who could relate to how I feel about my music and the depths I take the lyrics to, even though I was a little hesitant.
We talked like-forever and each time she said something that perhaps didn’t come out right and I’d correct her, she’d apologize and tell me that she really cared about what I think of her-that kinda melted my heart even more, because she was so sweet, but I was still a little hesitant considering the WAY she entered my life and how unsure I was that she was really being her TRUE self with me, or if she was working the fit the mold of one of the characters compatible with the protagonist in the books that she probably assumed was me, because she had more than enough time to read over and study everything-letters and emails included-enough to know what I like and dislike, need and want.
She’d also shown me thus far that she was a master at playing Jedi Mind Tricks, so I just didn’t know. The bottom line was the obvious; I WAS very flattered, but still, I had a couple problems with the situation: I was not about to let “Little Bit-o-Drama” herself and Miss Control come to my city to set up shop in some hotel room for us to make love without having explained to me why we made war in the first place, and I didn’t care WHO the hell she was. I just wasn’t very comfortable without having discussed the: who, what, when, why and how’s. I had been obsessing about it for far too long and especially considering how hurt I was that she and I had to have met this way, I needed to clear the air first. Then, I would have rushed to be with her-no questions asked.
It just seemed like she wanted to never discuss the situation; squash it, and forget it ever happened, but I wasn’t comfortable with that. I could tell that discussing the situation was a no-no in IM, and I could tell it was gonna have to go her way or no way. So eventually, I let go of the fact that I wasn’t going to get ANY conversation whatsoever about what happened and why it happened. The only who, what, when, where, why and how that Miss Control had in mind what she wanted, how she wanted it, who she wanted, when she wanted it, and why she wanted it; totally HER way:
“So let’s quit wasting time, what’s it gonna be?” she asked.
I told her that I had to check on something because I had other plans at first.
“How long will it take?” she demanded to know.
I told her that I was waiting on the phone call, or that I could probably get off line and call to see what the status was, and that I’d get back on line when I got done. I made the call, and when I got back online she asked me what the status was, and I told her some kinda mumbojumbo.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” she assured me once again.
“No, it’s no pressure, it’s just something I had already made plans to do and I wanted to clear it up first, don’t worry, you’re not pressuring me at all,” I assured her.
“I want to hear your voice, can I? Can I call you?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, then I gave her the real number-again: “513-721-1552 call me,” I told her.
I’m gonna let you talk to Bit for a while then ease you into talking to me Cinamon okay?” she said.
“Um, don’t worry about all that, you are not “that person” to me right now Hun, okay?” I replied-talking about her “celebrity.”
She didn’t respond. Then she gave me (410) 298-4640 and (410) 277-4890 and (410) 277-8594 and said: “Cinamon, those are real numbers…”-her hint to me that she did not give me a line for “bustas.” I laughed, thinking to myself, “…and she has no bills…”
“Okay call me,” I said.
“Alright Cinamon the next sound you hear will be your phone ringing!”
I sat there. I didn’t disconnect because whenever I would get a phone call while I was online, I’d get disconnected anyways. I waited for about 5 minutes for the screen to disconnect, and the phone to ring. It didn’t, so I logged off-line. When the line cleared, I had 3 messages waiting on me so I checked them. It was the sound of about three females in a sneaky little girly circle; laughing and talking about how jive and fake I was, and the lead voice was extremely unfamiliar to me. It wasn’t Janet or Drama’s voice; they just giggled laughed and adlibbed, but the unfamiliar voice carried on. When I was about to log back on, the phone rang. I picked up, and the unfamiliar voice said to me:
“You fake thing you! You jive Turkey! You are so fake man you are the fakest!”
I sat there and giggled and tried to explain what happened. The unfamiliar voice paused a minute while Janet whispered something in her ear. When she came back to the phone, she giggled and said:
“Listen to how you talk! Do you have a cold?” she asked.
“No, I don’t. I haven’t had a cold all winter or spring yet. That’s just how I talk,” I responded; feeling like I must sound like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer with a muzzled snout (trying to hang in here with this woman’s Reindeer games) because I’m so nasal.
“Look, get back online Hun,” I said.
When we both returned, I started talking some kinda mumbojumbo, again, trying (now) to really get off the subject since Janet didn’t “ease” her way on. I just didn’t think it was fair how she had control of everything since the beginning, and I mean everything, then when it was time for her to come from behind all the hidden shit, she put someone else on the phone before I could talk to her personally.
I just didn’t feel comfortable with that, at all. I probably would have told her yes-immediately had she been the one on the phone first. I mean, what? Was I supposed to allow her to just do the things she did and keep “hiding,” and then 3 hours later, just have her bust out of a hotel room door to meet, greet, eat, fuck, then leave me? Hell no. Besides, we still hadn’t ironed out what she did that hurt me so, nor WHY she did it. The situation wouldn’t allow me to loosen up. And then for her to put me in a position to where I could not talk to her about it in IM, combined with how she handled the actual phone call, made it no better.
“Trust” should not have been an issue at this point, even though I understood that she still had to protect herself because of who she is. I felt that if I was going to let her have her way with me (not mention how I was FORCED to let her have her way into my life the way she commandeered everything), at least she could “show herself” before she “showed herself,” besides, she still had a whole lotta catching up to do…
By this time, I was really uncomfortable with Miss Control. With “Drama” herself waiting in the wings, and now some other possible troublemaker waiting in the wings as well, I was totally thrown off. When she saw that I was basically at a loss for words at this point and actually had been ready to get off line, she started telling me how she was looking at a big life sized poster of me and all. “Weird,” I thought to myself. “Oh my god, I know she didn’t get my chatters page picture blown up to stare at! Blllrrrr! Creepy!” I was thinking, but responded: “oh, that’s interesting.”
Then she rambled on and on and started talking to me as if SHE was a fan who thought SHE was talking to Janet all that time.
“Clever” I thought, “how clever.” Jedi Mind Tricks was an understatement…
I just adlibbed with her until she got tired and had run out of things to say, then she paused for a while. When she returned, this time she was mean, rude, cruel and very callused. She started talking this weird kinda third person talk to me; telling me how pissed she was that her lover a turned her away: “I am pissed off because she is fucking with me. I wait all this time so we can see each other face to face and she turns me away, I can’t believe this, I am pissed off. I wanted to see her so bad,” she pouted and said.
On and on see went. I just sat there, adlibbing and trying to explain everything that was on my mind without naming specifics so that she could trust me still, and come out of “hiding,” not to mention that ridiculous third person communication that was annoying the shit out of me. That, alongside the entourage of troublemakers was pushing me even further away. She then kept telling me how Bit (who at this time, she started referring to as the wife) wanted her off line with me, and how she was being made fun of because of how her lover turned her away. The more I sat on with her, the more bizarre it got.
This thing went on for about the next hour or so, and we were back and forth between the chat room and IM making small talk. If she and Drama could have broke out on me like they did back on the January 21st morning; they damned sure would have. I could only imagine what was being said and going on at the cut right about now.
In chat, I was watching her drop down the nickname: “fuckinwitme,” while the two (four) of us were still in IM talking to each other, all the while I was listening to her still talking that ridiculous third person talk, about her being turned away by her lover; acting like a spoiled brat sitting on the floor kicking the wall in a corner and pouting with her arms folded.
I was at a disadvantage because I was afraid that if I said what was on my mind, she’d disconnect and not come back. But the other side of me was mainly assured that nothing concerned her but: who she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted, why she wanted and where she wanted it AND in the next three hours-that was it. Now, I knew for sure what the hell I was in for with this woman…
Back to my own virtual world listening to Al B. Sure’s “Naturally Mine,” from my CD Rom until I got sleepy.
At about 4am that morning, I was awakened by two phone calls. The first phone call, the person just sat on the phone for a second and didn’t say anything. On the second phone call, immediately when I picked up, I got a beeping sound followed by a series of beeps, until we were disconnected. The sound was not the kind of beeps like a fax number; these beeping sounds were different. I’d never heard them before. I didn’t think anything of it, so I went right back to sleep.
The next day, I was sitting at my computer writing a letter to her trying to explain myself, as well as what my reasons were, as to why we didn’t hook up. I was hoping she would understand and not be mad at me.
In the letter, I communicated directly to her without mentioning her name, but worded everything in it explaining a situation that only QUEENJANET/Qbenlyric2, and a “Little Bit-o-Butta Drama,” and I guess now (the unfamiliar voice), would understand. My main point was to get her (and her entourage) to understand that I wasn’t turning her away for any other reason, of course.
I got a chance to explain myself and how I was feeling, how I wanted her to trust me, but that I wasn’t comfortable with explaining myself when we’d last talked, because I was sure she didn’t want to hear it. I explained how I didn’t want that little incident to cause problems and how I felt “a way” because with all that was going on, I wasn’t sure what my approach to her would be if we ever “cross paths” again. I didn’t know what to do from that point on. If we “crossed paths,” I didn’t know if I was to speak and act like I didn’t know her, and I wondered if she would do me the same way. I mean, I didn’t know if we were going to squash it, and never pick up on it again.
I didn’t know if I should even come back to the room anymore and wondered if she even wanted me there again. Things were such as mess. I was so confused and felt really bad, because it was obvious that her entourage was giving her hell about being “turned away” by “little ole’ me.” I didn’t save the letter on the BULLSHIT disc just in case she was watching me as I was typing it, besides, it was so important to me that she trusted me-especially now, because I didn’t want her to feel like she gave up too much of “herself” for nothing…
I sent the email to Drama and asked her to pass it on to Janet for me. A few minutes later, I entered the chat room and Drama beamed down and started talking to the other chatters; answering questions-the usual.
I waited my turn: “Butta, hey Butta, did you get the pictures from me?” I asked, (exchanging the word “pictures” for “letters”, but she knew what I was talking about).
She answered some chatters questions and ignored mine. I asked her again and she still wouldn’t answer. She (or Janet) began dropping down nicknames with things that I had said in the letter. I knew then that she received it, which meant Janet had gotten it. I didn’t have any other questions for “Drama” however…
In my own virtual world, I was listening to “Sending My Love” by Zhane from my CD Rom while sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair. My friend/ex-lover phoned me, and we had been rapping up some differences that we’d had over the past year and a half.
“Angie, so you’re eating meat again?” she asked me.
“No! Girl, I haven’t eaten meat in years even since before you and me fell out,” I responded.
“No, I know that, I’m talking about chicken. The last time I remember, we both had been off chicken, and I thought you weren’t going to eat it anymore, but when you came over to my house the other day, you were eating chicken. I was just thinking about it that’s all,” she said.
“Yeah, and when I was pouring honey over it, you couldn’t resist it yourself, and you came on in and got yourself a piece of my fowl!” I responded. We laughed.
We went on to talk about getting together that day and how much she really did miss me and our friendship and all. We made plans for me to come see her before 4:10pm because her kid would be home from school at that time.
When I got there we chilled out for a while, sitting at her kitchen table, talking and yacking away. Then all of a sudden, her phone rang at exactly 4:10pm. The person hung up. It rang again, and immediately the series of beeps rang in her ear, like it did me at 4am the other night at my own house…
Soon thereafter, I’m in the room and QUEENJANET came down. She takes a seat and stares at me. I couldn’t feel her mood. I didn’t know if she was still upset, hurt or sad. She just sat there and didn’t say anything to me so I hugged her: “((((((QUEENJANET))))))) Hello.” I said.
“Did you mean that Cinamon?” she asked with her brows up-talking about what I said in the long love letter I wrote her that she received from “Drama.”
“Yes, I meant it, and I want to see your pretty smile. I need to,” I said.
She paused: “I’m smiling,” she said softly. “A little smile…” she said hesitantly, not wanting to make me feel that everything was chummy, wanting to keep me in her debt.
“Okay, I’ll take what I can get then,” I responded. We stared.
“Goodbye baby.” I responded.
A few minutes later, the nickname “SECRET” rolled down:
“Hello Cinamon,” said SECRET.
“(((((((Hello SECRET)))))))),” I replied.
Wondering what the hell she was up to, I was sitting there thinking of the title of one my books and knew that “SECRET” must also be that damned Janet. She then said to me:
“So Cinamon, tell me something. Do you just look or taste like
Cinamon?” she asked seductively.
I responded: “uh, a little bit ‘a both LoL.”
She raised her brows and didn’t crack a smile: “*Lick” she said.
“LoL,” I blushed. She still didn’t laugh.
In my virtual world (and hers) I imagined her looking straight at me
as if to say, “I aint smiling and I aint laughin’, so what’s it gonna be woman?”
Next, the nickname: “DETERMINATION” rolls down then I thought, *in my Master P voice: “This woman is ’bout it ’bout it!”
A little while later, my virtual doorbell rang. I got up from my black comfortable Futon chair, to answer it; it was Dana-a friend of mine. She sat next to me and asked me what was going on. I told her that I was in the chat room just messing around. There, we were talking about Janet Jackson and some of her music and stuff, just messing around. Dana enters with me and sits on the virtual lurk couch. I didn’t introduce her to anybody like I did Janine. I just let her watch because by this time, I knew better.
Janet (and her entourage) dropped a nickname down: “Angela Jackson.” Dana taps me and says, “okay are you married to Janet now?” she laughs.
“JMA” comes down next.
“Okay Angie what’s that? Janet marries Angela now?” we laughed.
“Twinnie Pooh” rolls down next.
“Okay Angie, y’all twins now?” we laughed again.
They then started reciting lyrics off of Janet Jackson’s song “Again” off the “janet” CD.
Each time she’d drop a nickname or lyric down, I’d post: “*lurking” to let her know that I was around and watching.
Next: “Track 13” came down. Dana and me were baffled.
I went through my CD collection to find my Janet Jackson “janet” CD to see what Track 13 was, and before I could find it; more lyrics rolled down.
Dana and me looked at each other.
I was confused because Track 13 on the “janet” CD didn’t match the lyrics that had just rolled down, so I was wondering if we are still talking about her. I pulled out my latest CD by her: the “Velvet Rope,”-we were in business. Track 13’s lyrics matched the post. It was the song called “Empty.” Skimming over the lyrics, it read like a song about her obsession with a love interest that she has over the Internet. Dana fell back on the lurk couch and said, “Omigod! Omigod! She is off the hizzy!”
“No, Dana she is just ’bout it, bout it baby!” I responded, because she could never understand this woman. She was wiiiilllld-man.
The next nickname that rolled down read: “Sixteen,” and the lyrics that followed it were the lyrics to “Everytime”-Track 16 on the “Velvet Rope” CD. We’re really in business now.
I continued to lurk, but would announce my presence to let her know that I was still on and watching, then eventually, the room calmed down a bit.
Later that evening, Dana and me were looking through some web page addys that some chatters had dropped down with pictures of her. Before I could get through them, my screen stopped in the middle of us viewing one of the pages, as if the person literally reached over and pulled away the document I was looking at and replaced it with a page they wished for me to look at first.
Dana and me thought we were seeing things at first, but the pages lead me to different links-I followed the maze. One link read: “The Control Panel brought you here. Half of ME wants YOU to stay…”
The next link read from an advertisement of Janet’s song that she did with Elton John for the Aida Soundtrack, that link read: “I KNOW the TRUTH…”
I was waiting to see what they’d put in front of me next, because they were trying to tell me something, and I just didn’t know what.
My mysterious navel pickin’ patna-Kaygei slid in on me in IM: “What’s up Cinamon, my navel pickin patna! LoL.”
We talked back and fourth about nothing and then she asked me if I wanted to go on a trip from July 2nd till July 5th with a bunch of other missJanetchatters. I asked her what would we be doing, and she told me that we would “just hang out.”
“Yeah, that should be fun because it’s four days after my birthday, so that should be nice. What, you think Janet might jump outta a cake for me?” I asked.
“LoL” she said.
I gave her my PO Box address and told her to snail mail me the information. She laughed: “No. Here’s the information Cinamon. It’s on a web page…”
I was sooo embarrassed, thinking in her virtual world how she probably laughed at me talking about sending “snail mail.” “SHIT, I’M NEW TO THIS!” I wanted to yell back to her, from my virtual world. This kind of thing really is her world-Me? I’m just living in it…
I entered the addy: www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Balcony/3298/070299.html
It had four pages set up for plans for a trip called Xcapade 99 in New York City. The first page showed a picture of a river view with buildings that sat on an island in the center of the river’s view. Beneath that picture was a message about the trip and the hotels name and location: Ameritana located at 1701 Broadway and 54th Streets. Beneath that, was a map, giving direction on how to get to the hotel.
The second page listed the hotels phone number: 1.800.922.0330 and the “arranger” asked that any questions be directed to MsMecca at: Escapade@mailcity.com. This “Ms. Mecca” stated that a room was already booked for her along with two other people, and the price of the room was listed down to the sales tax. She also stated that leaving my name with a credit card number sorta “seals the deal” to hold the room for me. Her instructions were for me to call and leave the information and say: “I want a room located along side Krystal Smith’s on July 2.” Any further questions were to be emailed to her.
The third page listed the agenda and what we would do from the time we arrived (at 3pm Friday July 2nd) throughout departure July 5th. The “arranger” stated that we would shop, eat, and club (if we wanted to) and explained how beautiful Central Park was on the night of the fourth of July and how memorable, exciting and romantic it was for her; her first time being there when she was 15…
The fourth page showed a layout of how the bathroom looked. It was cute, because this “arranger” had drawn an arrow on the scanned picture of the page and hand wrote: “Potty Area.” The bathroom was mostly black and white marble, and the shower walls were completely covered in marble. The bottom of the page had another handwritten arrow pointing to it that read: “and the bedroom…” It had a picture of the opening to the bedroom which had black and white shutters that were pictured slightly open so that you could get a full view of a king sized bed that had a picture (of some sort) sitting above it. You could see nothing else in the bedroom but the bed itself. Right then and there I knew for sure that it was the seductress herself who “arranged” this romantic Xcapade-this whole thing is her sneaky freaky style.
Dana’s mouth hung open as she asked, “Are you gonna go?”
“Yeah! Hell yeah, but I’m gonna still have to see how things go between now and then because it’s like three months from now, so that should be enough time to see what’s up.” I said.
I was so excited.
Next, I went back to the room and simply posted to Miss privacycontrol: “copy…” (meaning: “I understand”-again).
I scrolled the script down to get caught up on what was said before I entered and I saw that someone was asking another person if they trusted me. The other person simply said: “Yes I do,” they both turned to me and just stared.
Dana asked me to go back to the third and fourth page again so that she could see the agenda and the bedroom. I skipped pages one through three so that I could get a load of the bathroom and bedroom first-not really wanting her so see the agenda, but before I could roll down to the bedroom section, my screen froze. I had to reboot my system because I couldn’t go any further at all. Dana couldn’t see the agenda anyways and MissPrivacyControl obviously felt like I saw all that I needed to see and if I had any further questions; I should be emailin’ Ms. Mecca…
When I was fully logged back on, I tried to get back into the chat room and was blocked out. I’d hoped they didn’t get upset because I went back to review the pages again. I kept trying, but still could not get in, so I sent Kaygei an IM message stating that I didn’t think I was gonna go, because they were trippin’ on me again, and I “wha’en’non’it.” She hung on, asking silly little “why” questions and acting kinda childish and weird. I just logged off.
I didn’t go into the room for a couple of days, and when I did enter, the mood was rather dry. The nickname: “fuckinwitme” rolled down a few times and I knew it was Miss Control again; wondering if her “privacy” was under “control.” I remembered she posted that same “fuckinwitme” nickname after the incident when she wanted to come to Cincinnati “all of a sudden” in 3hrs back when she was Qbenlyric2, so I know she was pissed at me.
A chatter-nicknamed “JMA” beamed down and asked me:
“So what’s up Cinamon?”
“Nothing,” I said. I then IM’ed her under “Qbenlyric2” to tell her that I hoped she wasn’t mad because of what happened the other night and that I was just mad because they had me blocked out of the room, but that I was gonna get off line and call the hotel immediately to “seal my deal.” She didn’t respond; she just sat there, so I just got offline to call the hotel and they gave me confirmation #C68510EE.
I got back on, and went to IM and gave her the confirmation #. “What? What’s that for?” she asked. Then she started talking her third person talk again, and I got pissed. She kept telling me not to go and to chill out. Then she said: “What’s that Cinamon?”
I got upset, logged out and called the hotel back to cancel my reservation. They gave me cancellation #98920407 and I logged back in to give THAT to her. She then says: “No, wait,” but she wouldn’t say anything else. And then when she did, she started talking that third person shit again. I figured she must had gotten caught off guard with me electing to IM her under “Qbenlyric2,” when this time, she hadn’t given me an IM convo name for the “JMA” chat room nickname we were currently talking under. I’d assumed it was okay to IM her under Qbenlyric2, but I guess she didn’t see it that way. She thought I was up to something sneaky but I wasn’t.
I logged out of IM and went back to chat. She came back in after me. We both just sat and watched each other. I went back over to IM to curse her ass out and to tell her that by now we shouldn’t be going through the craziness and trust issues by this time, especially, but that alarmed them. Because when I went to IM her under the “Qbenlyric2” nickname again, she turned the IM off, but put up a dumb ass message that you could post right before someone entered your IM to be read in case you were not around-sort of like an answering machine message in the virtual world. It simply read: “Hi, my name is Jennifer Marie Asher and I am a 23-year old college student who is 5.6′ and 185lbs…” blah blah blah.
I went back over to chat and wrote: “*shakin my head.”
She came in and said: “Cinamon, so what’s up?”
“Nothin,” I responded.
“I’m just sitting here eating yogurt,” she said.
“Oh,” I responded.
“Cinamon, you so nasty,” she said.
“What?!” I asked.
“I said you nasty,” she said.
“And so are you. You got the nerve of a burglar!
Don’t say nothin’ to me
JMA!!!” I yelled.
“What do you think JMA stands for crazy! That’s my name!” this sick chic said.
“Shut up, there you go again with the nerve of a burglar calling ME crazy, you da’ one!… JMA!.
And at 5.6 and 185lbs you NEED to be pulling away from the table a little sooner than whatchoo doin’ now, and that yogurt with all those carbs and sugars you eatin’ aint helping!” I said.
They all laughed, then next, the nickname “CdJ” rolled down a few times.
“Cinamon dissed Janet?” I started to say, but I just kept my cool because they were already thinking I was up to something sneaky.
She (Qbenlyric2) IM’ed me and apologized and asked about the confirmation number again. I saw that she hurriedly removed her “lil description” when I answered back. I told her that I cancelled the reservations and that the last number I gave her was the cancellation number. She kept apologizing. I told her never to try and play me like a fool ever in her life again.
I think what the problem was, was that they were trying to figure out what names she was hiding behind on the day we were in the chat room getting the Xcapde99 trip together; trying to figure out if she should talk to me about it under the nickname “Qbenlyric2.”
I really didn’t have too much to say after this mess however; they played too many games for me. I mean, the cat was already out the bag and either they were gonna trust me, or they weren’t. All I knew is that I was tired of the charades and mazes; jumping through loops, leaps and bounds for this hoe. I knew that I was gonna be in for it dealing with her. I could tell that she really was a control freak and that it was either her way, or no way-and right when she wanted and if I didn’t oblige right then and there, she would think that I was trying to set her up or something, and then she’d either get into this character thingy: third person talking or accuse me of “fuckinwit” her and then disconnect my service so I would have to go up to the school computer lab to ask her: “Mother may I?” So she could say: “Yes you may.” I knew what she and this was gonna be all about now…
I’m in the room from up at the school lab-voluntarily, this particular afternoon, because I was in between classes. Lissa and me were having a conversation about the IM convo she and I had that early March day about Janet. She was asking (all over again) what I meant by my use of the names I referred to her as: “Miss Thing” and “Boogie Woogie.” To clear up everything, I told her that I had a surprise for her that I would send to her, to shut up the whole convo and that I would email her with the surprise in a minute. So I pulled out the BULLSHIT disc from my book bag and sent her the actual copy of our IM convo to clear up any confusion that was obviously going on, on their end of the world.
Later that evening when I tried to get in the room, they had me blocked out-AGAIN.
I then, sent Lissa a lengthy email, telling her how sick I was of her. And that every time I got hooked up with her, some shit would start. I went on to tell her how stupid they were acting with all the “trust” issues and that we should be past that. They were worrying Janet far more than she should be, because it seemed like it was more them than it was her. It was like she was being “coached” on what she should do or say next-all the time. I was really starting to think that if she had it her way, we wouldn’t have all the problems we were having.
I told Lissa how I used to save everything on a disc when I was unsure what it was that Janet wanted from me, but when it became clear, I stopped saving things. I cursed her out about all of their foul behavior, until I ran out of curse words.
When I finally got back in that night, she had left a message on my recorder stating that she wasn’t a trouble maker and how nobody knew what was going on between Janet and me and how I shouldn’t worry about it. She talked about how she didn’t appreciate me cursing her out and that I “needed to call (her) when I got home,” like she was bad. I had no interest in calling LockiejawsLissaFOSD back on that issue way in Inglewood California, when we could just handle it in Janet’s world-a world that I was just living in.
Eventually, we carried on like normal. Lissa and me ironed out our issues and I didn’t have any more contact with Janet in IM or chat under the Qbenlyric2/JMA name anymore, they hurried up and did away with that character.
I guess everything was okay however, because in chat soon thereafter, she came down and made comments about her heart racing whenever she’d see my name and all-her same dramatic self. This day in particular, she and her entourage were about to go and work out.
“Come on girl, let’s go!” said someone.
“I’m coming, my heart is racing…” she said, as she watched me, watching her.
This kind of scenario went on for a few days for what seemed like during the times she was busy or about to go workout. So I’d take it that when she would not be able to hang out in the room while I was there, my cue would be: “I’m coming, my heart is racing…” Then I would post: “*******gone” (which was how I would always exit the room to announce my departure so she’d know I was leaving) and that I caught her drift…
I inserted the “Velvet Rope” CD into my CD Rom to listen to Track 12-13 because that was one song I always skipped over because it was so “Techno-Sounding.”
Turns out, it really was about a relationship that blossomed over the Internet, making me wondering if I happened to be at the “right place” at the “right time” and just happened to fit the part. “Hmm. Interesting, and pretty significant” I thought to myself, wondering, according to many of the songs on the CD thus far, if I was falling into, and literally helping this woman live out her fantasies of all the lyrics to the entire CD-virtually; like all of this was some sort of perfect “plan” and all she needed was the perfect person-and I was “It.”
On with my virtual world, from my comfortable black Futon chair, I insert my LTD Greatest Hits CD and listen to “Stranger…”
The next day or so, I’m in. Everybody’s yakking about a bunch of nothing. QUEENJANET enters the room after me. I didn’t know what, if I should say anything to her, so I decided to ignore her. She wasn’t talking to anybody, she was just lurking, but she stayed in there for a lil’ while.
“Cinamon. Hello…” she said.
“Hello, QUEENJANET…” I returned.
A few seconds later, I was interrupted by an IM from crazy ass Brie. I hadn’t talked to her in a while, so I accepted. She was just talking about her parfaits a bunch of nothing. I told her I was in chat, she didn’t respond.
“So how’s life?” asked Brie.
“Oh girl I can’t complain,” I returned.
She never said anything else; she just got real mute on me.
I’d noticed that she was IM’ing in a very specific color and font style that “Qbenlyric2” would use when she and I IM’ed, and that seemed really weird and quite ironic.
Brie and me just sat there speechless, while I was lurking in the chat room. There, QUEENJANET then says: “Cinamon…So…How’s life?”
I looked at crazy Brie in IM with the same color and font style that Qbenlyric2 would use, and looked at her question that she’d just asked me in IM: “So how’s life?…”
It was the same question QUEENJANET just asked in chat, and thought I was going crazy.
I looked at QUEENJANET; busted out laughing, and said to her: “You know what? It’s your world foreal…and I see now that I am just livin’ in it.”
She just looked at me with her brows raised and smiled as if to say, “I know that, now do you understand?”
I fell back in comfortable black Futon chair feeling so stupid. I couldn’t believe that “Brie” was “Qbenlyric2/QUEENJANET.” I mean-she played the “Brie” role so great that she deserved an Oscar for that one. I really thought Janet’s ass was crazy then, well, she is-just like I thought that damned “Brie” was. “She must like this shit,” I said to myself. Man, this girl was crazy. I think that is why I loved her so much though.
I should’ve known that Janet was “Brie” because she held on to me even throughout the time I left the chat room back in January after she and “Drama” dissed me. So actually I still had been talking to Janet all that time that I called myself staying away from the room anyways. I should’ve known. Because I also remember the day she (“Brie”) and I were talking about our favorite soap operas and she mentioned something like: “Yeah I like those DRAMA’s!!!!!” and for one second exactly, I thought about Janet, because of how “Brie” stressed the word “Drama” as if her whole reason for bringing up the convo about soap opera was so she could use the word “Drama”-Butta’s troublemaking name that she came down under, back on that January 21st morning. I ruled out it possibly being Janet because I had been talking to “Brie” waaay before she commandeered my computer, and she (“Brie”) and I would chit chat in the chat room together even before January 21st. Now I understood why she didn’t even talk to anyone else in chat but me. She had already been working her way(s) up to me, through me, and running circles all around me and I had no idea.
Quite clever of her lil’ sneaky ass: “Brie” the ECONOMICS major…
I later found out that Brie was a cheese, and this “Brie” chose to use that name since she was “cheesed up” and economics was her “area of expertise.” And I thought I was smart and she was a “gullible airhead,” she showed my ass. Well, where I’m from, we only know about five kinds of cheeses: Cheddar cheese, American cheese, Mozzarella cheese, String cheese and even “Gubmentchesse.” “Brie” cheese was definitely not on the menu at our grocery stores, no wonder I was fooled, thinking that “Brie” was such a pretty name.
I felt so stupid. “What next with this girl?” I wondered…
From home, I’m in one afternoon on my break from class, and Kajira-the bisexual girl from chat who was chatting with Daniee and me during our lil’ “Jack and Jill” convo, came down and spoke:
“LTNS,” (long time no see) I said.
She was full of questions about me; what college I was attending, my major-all that.
“Why am I being interviewed girl?” I asked.
“Because, I’m handing you the microphone and letting you run the show LoL,” she said.
“When will you be graduating?” she asked.
“Probably, if everything goes right, this December,” I returned. “Hey Cinamon, will you email me sometimes?” asked Kajira.
“I’ll try,” I said.
She dropped down her email addy over and over: “email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org…”
“Is she crazy?” I was thinking.
She announced that she was about to leave the room, and started saying goodbye to a couple people, and at the end her goodbye’s she said: “I love you my Angel boo! email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org ********Kajira*”
“ ********** ” was the way I always announced my departure and said goodbye to people who were leaving the chat room, so she knew that would most certainly catch my attention, just like her comment “my Angel Boo” had caught mine. Because “Angel” was not only close to my real name, but “Angel Boo” was a name that she called me back when she was talking to me under “Qbenlyric2,” in IM-back when she was on her way to Cincinnati in 3hrs.
Besides, I’d been discovering and uncovering that this whole premeditated “fantasy” of hers probably seemed like it was destined to happened since most everything we were doing seemed to fit so many songs from the CD, so I learned. I thought about the line from another song on the “Velvet Rope” CD called “Tonight’s the Night” where she says: “Come on Angel. My hearts on fire…” she’s real premeditated like that.
Let’s see now: we have have-Track’s 12/13:
From home, I’m in one afternoon waiting on my friend Shauntay to come so that we could go to lunch together. I was yakking about a bunch of nothing to some people in chat and someone named “SassySHH” IM’ed me: “Hi Cinamon. How are you? This is Kajira,” she said.
“I’m fine, how are you?” I returned.
I started making small talk with her about a bunch of nothing.
She then said: “excuse me if I say something off the wall or sexual girl, the time of day it is here right now makes me kind of horny.” I frowned. Shauntay blew the horn.
“Well Kajira, perhaps you need to go and take a cold shower, because my ride is here and I’ve got to go.”
“Cinamon! Damn! You make me soooo mad sometimes!” she said, with her lips folded tightly.
“Well, I’m sorry about that Kajira but I really have to go. I’ll email you maybe if I have time though,” and I logged off.
Shortly thereafter, Kajira and me immediately started talking on IM for a while during the afternoons. She’d tell me that our talking was like “magic.” She told me she was so happy to be talking to me and that she missed me all that time I had been gone. I took “Kajira” through it for a while; quizzing her on things that only “she” should know from my conversations with her and Daniee earlier in the year in January before I got double-dissed, when we would talk in the room.
I quizzed her down to asking her what it was that she emailed me back then, the one time that she did:
“Cinamon. Hey this is Kajira from MissJanet chat. I really don’t have anything to say but I did want to drop you a line or two…_____________________________________
I remember I thought that was so cute.
Back then, in January, “Kajira” would be asking me to send her a picture of me because she didn’t quite remember what I looked like. She’d tell me she remembered I was pretty but that the picture posted on the chatters page was kinda cloudy looking. I’d tell her that I only had that same exact picture from the chatters page (now on the BULLSHIT disc) and that I would send it when I got around to finding it.
Slowly, I started to know that the object of this game with all these “characters” was to camouflage Janet’s identity and make up characters by giving them a “life” of some sort. The first thing to get out of the way was for her to mention: “pics,” “do u have a pic” or “do u want me to send you a pic?” so that she could send a picture of someone totally “un” her, and the next thing was to talk third person-the shit I hated!
“Kajira” started off by sending me a “pic” (of “her”) which was some white girl sitting next to another white girl; looking like two dykes and shit. We were sitting in IM, and I just paused a long while. She responded: “Cinamon, you’re awful quiet, what’s the matter?”
I didn’t say anything.
Then she said: “LoL…I’m lmfao, imagining the look on your face.” I responded seriously: “Yeah, don’t ever do anything like that again. You’re turning me off…”
“LoL…okay Angela…” she responded, like a silly rabbit. (As “Kajira” in January) and “Brie” was.
Name: Joanna, but I could call her J.
She lived with her father and step mom and told me how her real mom had died. She’d given me this big long story about her Aussie life and how she worked in the entertainment industry as an assistant to a celebrity and had met “Drama” before. She told me that she first “came out” to “Drama” back in ’97-hmm…
Kajira said that since [Janet’s] birthday was near, she and some friends were going to get together and have a party for her and videotape it and take pictures and all. “You’re invited, if you want to come,” she offered.
I just listened.
She’d pause for long periods of time, to inform me that her father wanted to talk to her or that she’d be getting into with the mean step mom.
I just listened.
Sometimes during these long pauses of mine, she’d say she’d have to stop and get clothes out the washer and dryer.
I just listened, and listened and listened and adlibbed a time or two.
“You are such a wonderful and patient person to sit up here and listen to me ramble on and on this way. You are so wonderful” she said. I just listened, thinking about what a wonderful person I was to be putting up with all this bullshit, figuring that this was some type of therapy for her or something.
I’d keep quizzing her on different conversations we’ve had. She’d get the questions right, but she started to get irritated with me quizzing her because she wanted me to treat her “normal.”
“Oh she wants normalcy from me, while she sits me in a chair and ties my hands up while she dances around me swinging her hips slowly and seductively from side to side; acting out her fantasizes, and I could only watch and participate by looking but not touching or getting too close, huh? She wants to run the show, kinda like she does whomever she called upon stage like when she was on tour. Track 19 now huh?” I said to myself.
At any rate.
When I’d decided that I got tired of quizzing her, we carried on a normal conversation.
“What do you have on?” she asked, wanting virtuosity like she always demanded.
“I have on a pair of jeans and a spaghetti strap tank (mauve) LoL,” I said.
“I look frumpy in jeans,” she said.
“Frumpy? I disagree,” I responded.
“Yes I do,” she said, not wanting me to debate the subject with her. So I just got quiet.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Dancing and listening to New Edition,” she replied.
“Ohhh New Edition huh? Girrrllll, you can’t get enough of them boys of New Edition huh? LoL” I said.
She paused and said: “Okay, I’m ’bout to go.”
“No no! I was just playing,” I responded.
I was teasing her because at that time it was rumored (rather, a publicity stunt) that she was romantically linked to the newest addition of a five-member boy group after boyfriends claim of telling the world about her secret bisexual lifestyle. I was teasing her because years ago, she was also “BOBBIn’ and weavin’“ from rumors that she was romantically linked to another member of the same group but-he’s married now…
She put the Netscape hell mail account back to use by sending me email to it. The first email she’d sent me had so much stuff going on in it. This is how the email was set up and prewritten each time:
(and when I’d respond to any messages to her it’d read):
— (my message) or
— (her message)
“girl you’ll never find another love like this…
so you better represent…cause my love is the
S.H.H……the bomb baby…”
…and right at the very end of ALL the emails, there would always be a quote of some kind, and the author’s name underneath it. That immediately caught my eye, but I never questioned her. I knew of course who “msbutta” was, and I also knew that “funkyfans” were most probably LV, Rico, the Unfamiliar Voice of the female who called me and was to “ease” me into talking to her the day she was on her way to Cincinnati in 3hrs, and no tellin’ what other hired help. I didn’t question it, but that did tell me that anything she and I would say through this Hell mail account (that she was in control of), was also going to be seen by the eyes of Butta and Co.
The quote at the end of her first email caught my eye. I don’t remember the exact way it was written, but I remembered I was overwhelmed by its meaning. So I asked her to interpret it in her own words-what she thought it meant:
“I don’t now. I mean, I do know, but I’m so afraid. Afraid that I might say the wrong thing or that it may not come out right. I’m just scared,” she said.
I smiled at her because she was so sweet, innocent and candid once again, such a perfectionist-insecure. That kind of pulled at my hearts strings because she was so nervous, so human, and I remembered how back when we first talked when she was “Qbenlyric2,” she’d said she cared what I thought of her. So I imagined her with her shoulders up trying to be as careful as she could-her thoughts, walking on the eggshells of her mind.
I responded: “Well, what the quote is saying is that when one approaches anything in life, it should always be with vigor and intensity; preparing to win, because you don’t come to lose. The second part of the quote means that how one’s approach to love should most definitely be: ardently, with vigorous intensity and courage, because in love; you don’t approach it with self-defeating energy. You come to learn all, take all, give all and to win…” I explained to her.
“Oh my gosh, that is so beautiful. You make me feel…I don’t know…Angela you are so…educated.”
“No, education has nothing to do with nor can it compare to experience-the best teacher. College aint really taught me anything. I’ve learned from things that I’ve gone through, and have yet to go through. My eyes and ears are always open. I never shut myself off to anything at all. I never have. That way, your mind, and your heart are open and unbiased when approaching a lot of different situations in life. Once you have “conquered” and/or experienced things, it is then that you can “be a great teacher” and you’re able to offer a worthwhile opinion or take on a subject or situation that may be beneficial, useful or enlightening to other people. College or being “educated” aint got nothing to do with that.” I told her.
We talked on and on about various things, and then she relaxed a little more. It was so funny, because sometimes during the convo I’d write: “*raising my brow…” And she’d ask: “Can you really raise only one brow?” And I’d say: “Yes, foreal, I can.” And she’d say: “Wowwwwww, you are so talented…LoL.”
I loved her sense of humor-she was so funny. More and more, she became so human; so vulnerable, and I could help but love her to death.
We were talking about the fact that I had been going through a situation with a couple friends of mine who’d accused me of being a selfish person, selfish with my self and my time. I had been having a terrible time about the selfish issue with the two friends of mine-one in particular was my friend/ex-lover who’d I just started back talking to. She told me how she too was accused of the same exact thing but that she knew she was guilty-fuck it:
“I think I’m gonna order out for pizza. What do you like on yours?” she asked-wanting virtuosity.
“I like spinach, tomatoes, onions, green peppers, artichokes and pineapples on my pizza,” I said.
“I’m getting chicken on mine…” she stressed.
I just looked at her, wondering why she said it like that, and why she even brought it up. She brought it up as if she only wanted to tell me that she liked eating CHICKEN on her pizza…
She then said:
“Do you know what “Kajira” means?”
I responded: “No, tell me.”
“It means: ‘slave to passion.’ I’m guilty of that, selfishness, greed and lust and…”
I stopped her: “Stop right there because you are turning me on,” I responded.
“Am I? *W” she said.” (*W=wicked, it’s ‘sexual’ in cyber world).
“Yes you are. Stop right now, please.” I said.
“I’m wiggling my tongue piercing,” she bragged.
“Scooting back, LoL” I replied.
“What do you have on?” I asked.
“I have on a jersey, some boxer shorts, thick wooly socks…AND a black bra… :-)~ ,” she replied.
I thought about her notorious black bra she was known for wearing that held up her ample breasts and knew that was what why she smiled faced me.
So I smiley-face’d her back…
“Umm…” I said.
“Umm what?” she asked.
“I was just thinking,” I said.
“Tell me, what? What are you thinking?” she asked attentively.
“You really wanna know?” I responded-feeling really raunchy and thinkin’ nasty thoughts.
“Yes, tell me,” she said.
“I was thinking. Thinking about space between the crouch of your boxers and yo’ pussy…*W” I returned, virtually winking my eye and sitting back in my chair.
“Why? Why?” she asked attentively.
I sat up and responded: “Because…Then it could be me rubbing up against you-your clit.”
She paused a second. I paused a second with her, wondering if I might be too raunchy for her taste because it took her a minute to respond. She came on back. We continued. We continued to talk about holding one another, kissing madly and wildly, while she’d caress my breasts and lick me all over my stomach. I told her not to forget lick, bite and suck on my neck because it drives me crazy.
She came up to do it, and finish all my requested areas and the ones she chose as well. She was licking me, touching me, tasting me, biting me and caressing me uncontrollably on parts I didn’t even know I had. She told me how she would insert her fingers-finger by finger, into me until she could get her hand up there while she enjoyed the sounds I was making. We were both moaning: oooh’s and ahh’s, uuuh’s and um’s until we couldn’t take it anymore. We didn’t care who could have been around during our sexsion. We were talking raunchy and using raunchy and dirty language like crazy-the way we couldn’t wait to get our hands on one another.
“Um I don’t think you can get your hand up there Hun, besides, that’ll hurt,” I squinted.
“No, you wont even know it. You wont even feel no pain,” she assured me- “experiencedly.”
So I let her do it and everything her way.
(Track 20 now):
No one would ever understand…
We finished up with our I love you’s, our ooh’s and ahh’s, our slurps, and shhllss, and moans and groans.
“Maniac,” I said to her-a name I’d always call her because that’s what she reminded me of when she’d get aroused.
She’d laugh and say: “I love you Angela. I love you baby, don’t ever forget.”
“I love you too,” I said to her.
“I want to be able to tell you. I want you to hear me tell you how much I love you and how you’ve changed my life Angela. I could call you. I could call you from my mobile phone…no, I couldn’t…you could call me though. But I’m nervous,” she said-wanting virtuosity.
“Why, why are you nervous?” I asked.
“I can’t wait for you to hear me tell you how much I love you and how much I want and need you, and how much nothing else matters but you,” she confessed. Then she paused: “Call me, call me-011 612 9489 8561.”
I didn’t know if she was telling the truth about (her) being in Australia, but I did know she was definitely out of the country with a number like that. I really didn’t care where she was, anywhere across the globe. All I knew was that I wanted to hear her voice and hear her tell me how much she looooved me dammit and I wanted her to feel me when I told her the same. I was feeling so very emotional at that point.
“I’m so nervous, my stank voice right now…LoL,” she said.
“I don’t care about none of that. I have to call you on one of my two calling cards because I have a long distance block on my phone because people don’t know how to come over to your house and make local calls…lol,” I apologized.
I tried calling the overseas number on both calling cards and neither card would let me dial it. I came back on line to tell her.
“That’s just too bad. That’s too bad,” she said regretfully.
I waited for her to suggest calling me from the mobile again, but I figured it must had been a bad idea in the first place, so I didn’t press the issue. We just sat online telling each other everything; learning one another more, and cracking jokes like two happy people for the next couple hours until she got sleepy.
“Angela, the time that I’m talking to you from, here, is a time that is really hectic. What time you usually get up in the mornings?” she asked.
I told her that I get up about 6am. She asked if I could log on at 5am in the mornings my time, because that would be perfect for her time. Of course I told her that I would, even though the time was not good for me. I had to set my alarm clock an hour early to get me up, but I would have done anything for her-including losing sleep. She was my lil’ heart…*putting my fist to my chest. “She aint nothing but a big spoiled selfish lil’ baby,” I said to myself.
The next morning-5am. There she was-prompt as me:
“Hi baby, I miss you,” she said.
“I miss you too and I love you so much” I returned.
“*Nodding head, Um. Um. Um. I love you,” she confessed.
We laughed. She got quiet.
“What are you doing babe?” I asked.
“*W” this Maniac responded.
“Oooooh, and I just got out of the shower too,” I revealed, virtually laughing; thinking about the look on her attentive face.
“Oh?” she said seductively-with her brow up:
“I’m licking the water beads off of your neck and shoulders while I drop your towel,” she said. She proceeded to lick the water beads off from my neck down through my thighs while the sounds she heard from the pleasure she was giving me drove her crazy. My wetness drove her wild.
“I can’t help myself, I love yo sexy ass girl!” she confessed. She snatched, applied pressure and teased me like I like it, and wouldn’t let up. I froze. She wouldn’t let me touch her. She just wanted to give it all to me, and I took it, while she gave like crazy-like I never had it before.
No one would ever understand…
“I think I’m gonna like this. I love giving my first thoughts to you
when I wake. Cause you give it to me so good. I love you,” I confessed.
“You’re on my mind all day every day, when I wake through to when
I go to sleep. I love you,” she revealed.
She paused for a long while.
“Baby, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh nothing, just on the line with Rico as well, and I’m also about to call this guy called Michael who acts likes he’s so busy and “imPO’ent” all the time. We talk on this kind of program on the computer where you can communicate and hear one another’s voice as well. I’m dialing him now; he’s had me on hold like forever…” she said; sounding like the spoiled baby sister…
I sat there. I didn’t respond to the comment about Rico being online or the comment about “the guy called Michael” because I knew she was showing me that she was removing her mask, and trusting me. I just took the comment about Rico being on line as my warning: “DO NOT FUCK UP, FOR YOU ALREADY KNOW BY NOW THAT ‘WE GOT NEXT’ ON YOUR COMPUTER ANYWAYS…” (with her brow lifted).
We sat and talked for hours about everything.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays my first class was at 8am and on Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays my first class was at 9:30am. Sometimes we’d talk in the mornings for so long and about so much that she’d hate for me to leave. I’d call her a spoiled big baby-and we’d stay on until around 11 in the mornings some mornings. I’d eventually dropped the 8am class on Tuesdays and Thursdays because if I wasn’t late, I was at home cooped up online with her in my comfortable black Futon chair, Indian style, listening to her just be her, and loving it, and her; just being herself, her real self. Listening to what makes her happy, what makes her sad, what makes her mad, everything.
She’d be listening to what makes me happy, what makes me mad, what makes me sad-everything. We were like two kids sometimes. Other times we’d be like two people learning, knowing and loving one another to death. We’d Go Deep like that. We would get no sleep, cause we’d be up all night, until the early light, and no one would ever understand…
Sometimes we’d talk about the movies we liked and the plays we liked. We’d joke about the two of us breaking into some kind of some kind of fight while we were naked because one of us did or said something out of line, and I said to her: “man can you imagine that? That would look a trip!” and she wrote: “tusslin’ and shit.”
I just busted out laughing-just thinking of the two of us booty butt naked trying to fight each other. We had so much fun together.
We’d talk about how I liked to drive around for hours at a time absorbing and ingesting my music because I’d always have to be in motion to do so. She told me she would share it with me. We promised to ride around and listen to music for hours and absorb it together. We’d talk about a favored spot of hers that she liked to go to that she’d call her sanctuary-where she liked to sit and think. She said she’d never taken anyone there with her before, but that she wanted me to share it with her-that made me happy. I promised I would. “That’s fair. I’ve never taken anyone with me while I absorbed my music, so we’ll share each other’s world,” I told her.
Other times we’d go dancing together and freak each other all wild, while we’d laugh. We’d slow dance and cuddle up-all alone in our own lil’ world with nobody bothering us, no one could ever understand anyways…
Sometimes she’d make fun of my lazy slang when I’d post words in chat or in private with her exactly the way I’d talk in lazy slang, because I was comfortable with her by this time. I’d post things like: “Imma” or “I’m bout ta” (I’m going to), “tal’mout” (talking about); things like that. She’d tell me that I sounded like I was from Alabama… “Alabama? I asked. “Well I wonda how a p’urson write like dey sound like dey fromAlabama!” We’d laugh.
One Saturday afternoon, I was going to a carnival, and was looking forward to getting a funnel cake.
“A funnel cake? What’s that, like a potato pie, a potato cake thing with holes in it?” she asked greedily.
I laughed: “No baby, it’s like, really a deep fried piece of dough with holes in it, shaped like a circle and it has powdered sugar and/or hot cherries or apples poured across the top of it. It tastes really good. I look forward to this carnival every single year! Baby I wish you could go with me,” I said to her.
“Baby, I wish I could go with you too, we will put that on our list of things to do okay?” she said.
“Okay,” I said.
We talked while I was getting dressed. We’d always do that; talk while we were getting dressed until the exact time to leave the door of the house. It would be like pulling teeth to get either one of us off line Monday through Sunday. Sometimes when she’d have things to do, I’d wait patiently while she showered and got dressed. We’d tell every detail: “hold on, I’m putting on…or taking off…” we were crazy like that. It’d be so funny because we were just like two happy kids who couldn’t get enough of one another; like each other’s other half. We were just two people learning, knowing, and loving one another to death and no one would ever understand…
When I got back from the carnival with my funnel cakes, I was eating one and sharing it with her virtual-hungry self. She liked it. We said we’d save the other one for later.
“Baby, did you think of me when you stuck your tongue in the hole of the potato pie?” said this Maniac. We just busted out laughing because we’d always catch one another off guard like that when we’d least expect it. She was so funny and cute. We promised that we’d go to the carnival, the theatre, the movies, her sanctuary, my think tank in motion and see plays together as soon as possible no matter what and nothing but death could keep us from it.
I’m in IM. We’re talking about love, trust, pain and our definitions of it. She was very very defensive about the pain subject. She yelled: “DON’T TELL ME WHAT PAIN IS, IVE HAD MY BILL OF PAIN. I KNOW WHAT PAIN IS AND WHAT IT FEELS LIKE. I’D RATHER DIE THAN TO RETURN THERE AGAIN. AND I MEAN IT.”
She talked about how hard she’d loved before, and the hurt and pain that she had gone through. She told me that she had really never gotten over it but had learned to move on. I told her my definition of trust and romantic love. I told her that love is something that can only be mirrored by that which is love itself. If you love you, then you are all the things that love is. Trusting. Honest. Patient. Caring. I told her that it was my experience that, that kind of love should come with conditions however, conditions of mutual and like reciprocation. I told her that to me, that kind of love (romantic love) is not unconditional. It has to be mirrored by the love that is within you, and that what you attract or feel “love” is, is just a mirror of all that is within you. Therefore to me, love is not unconditional. If you are not being loved the way you love you, then I believe that kind of love is unconditional in that one should love that kind of person from afar, that is, unless you don’t love you as you should.
“I disagree,” she said, (not understanding that I was talking about “romantic love,” not “love” as a whole) as we debated back and forth.
“I, I just have a place inside of me that I just can’t get past, I can’t get over. I’ve been hurt so bad in the past that sometimes it stands in the way of the way I love now,” she confessed.
“Well, that’s not good baby. That’s no way to love. That’s not love at all. It’s just like that quote that we’d discussed. Your approach to love can’t be with hesitation because of an experience that stunted your growth in love. It’s not good to let one bad thing spoil it for you in love. It’s not healthy. In love, you don’t come to lose. You come to win. Even if it doesn’t work, you know that you tried and gave it your all and that’s just how you approach the next relationship.” I told her.
“Angela. You have my all. I gave you my all. You have all that I have to give,” she promised me.
“All that you have inside of you to give in love?” I asked.
“Yes, all that I have to give Angela.”
*Shakin my head, I smiled softly, loving her more.
“But I don’t want to talk about it, I’d rather not delve into that subject,” she said.
I thought about the whole “love” issue that I had talked about in my first book and how she had more than enough time to study and learn it, and knew from our debate, that she disagreed with my take on my personal definition of “unconditional love” (romantically speaking). It seemed like that particular part seemed to hit a nerve with a couple people who read it. I was debated “indirectly” with another notable person who had a problem with the same part, so I was about used to any rebuttals to my definition of the meaning of unconditional love.
It’s just that I learned, that you intertwine yourself in the lives of people who “love” you the way you love yourself it’s as simple as that. If the love you have for yourself is the kind that enables one to take place in your life and they dishonor or do not identify with you in idea, thought, and spirit; then simply because they are human, they should be “loved” from a distance-not intertwined in your life, because if you do not dishonor you or do not “un”identify with you, in idea, thought, and spirit, why should all else around you?
To celebrate me and identify with me in idea, thought, and spirit is to receive my unconditional love-to have you intertwined in my life. But to not celebrate and identify with me in idea, thought, and spirit, is to receive my unconditional love from afar simply because you are human. Every human being is owed respect, but to me, loyalty is earned. I don’t feel like people owe loyalty to anybody unless they have shown that they are “trust” “worthy.” Every human being is not trustworthy initially; however, they should be respected initially (because they are human). Respect should be unconditional-not loyalty and romantic love.
I knew that to keep debating the subject with her would mean that she would have to admit to having retrieved my manuscripts. I could just tell by her readiness to debate the subject, that that was one problem she had with what she’d read, just like the other notable celebrity that read it did-however; that person got the manuscript legally, though she debated “around” many issues having to do with the manuscript “indirectly.”
Janet however, got a hold of the manuscript illegally, and debated the issue directly-well, sort of, but I do respect Janet’s “direct” debate a lot better; considering how she felt it useful to her; as did the other notable, but she chose to debate her issues with me and it from afar-that is something I cannot respect especially knowing she felt my work and viewpoints useful, not to mention beneficial, to her too.
When I’d talk to her, it was obvious she wanted to go over some things I’d written about, but of course now or in IM wasn’t the time, and as always, I cooperated and let her have her way.
It was her turn to talk about one of her favorite plays. “Miss Saigon” was it. She started rambling on about it non-stop. I just listened and adlibbed. She paused in spurts, wondering if I was tired of her rambling on about it. “Go ahead baby, I’m listening,” I told her. She didn’t wanna stop. I cued and probed and adlibbed until she got it all off her chest. We talked about it for about an hour. When we got done, she told me about how the original character that played “Miss Saigon” was murdered by her husband.
“Asshole,” she said.
I got quiet.
“Baby, are you there” she asked.
“Yes, I was just thinking. Thinking about how ironic it was that her life ended on stage as it did in real life. That’s all. What a shame. Life imitating art,” I said.
“The Closer I Get To You,” by Donnie Hathaway and Roberta Flack is blasting from the speakers of my computers CD Rom while I’m sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair.
“*W. Come here. Stop working and get off of that computer. I’m leading you to the sauna and I’m undressing and watching you undress. I’m done-looking at you in your bra and underwear. I’m kissing you wildly,” said this Maniac / sex addict.
“I’m kissing you wildly and holding your face to my neck to kiss me, lick me, bite me and suck me where I like. I’m shaking and moving because it’s driving me crazy. You’re biting down my collar bone.”
“I’m gently sucking on your breasts while you moan,” she said.
I’m holding my breasts together for her so that she can almost suck them both at time same time. She tells me that she’s loving it. Loving that she can use her hands to feel me while she’s (simultaneously) caressing my breasts that I’m holding together for her. I’m wet and it drives her crazy. She rushed down on me wildly-applying the pressure that I like. We’re both oohing and ahhing and shaking like crazy. She comes up and she finally allows me to touch her, and I sink my teeth into her neck to distract her from making me stop, once she realizes what she allowed me to do. I’m sucking and licking and biting her neck, shoulders, chest and breasts while I’m gently rubbing her clit. She’s intensely distracted. Right now she’s too weak to tell me “no” to anything I wanted to do to her, and though she resists me like crazy, she can’t get the words, “stop” out of her mouth, so she’s frowning with disapproval and pleasure; shaking her head “no” but saying the words “yes.”
I’m learning more and more that she hates not being in control. I know that for sure now, so I ask her to get my thingy for me to give control back to her-somewhat. (My thingy is “Mr. Happy”).
“I knew you’d ask for it sooner or later,” she said, in a desperate and slow moaning whisper, as she remembered introducing him to me back in her “Qbenlyric2” days. She knew I liked that. “Help me put it on,” this Maniac said, preparing to go to work so that she could show me how much she didn’t like being forced out of control.
“No I don’t want to. I want you to put it on while I watch you-anticipating what I am in for because I know you gonna give it to me good,” I said.
She licks her lips and tells me how sexy she thinks I am: “I love you, I love yo sexy ass,” she tells me.
“I love you. I love yo sexy ass woman,” I respond.
She’s in the water kissing me wildly. I tell her that I want her to back me up to the corner of the sauna so that I can’t move any further while she pounds away.
“Oooh you turn me on so. I love yo sexy ass,” she says.
I open for her to enter while she says that over and over. She’s loving the sounds I’m making-higher and higher, while she’s grinding it in and it’s driving her crazy. She’s losing control while I’m biting, sucking and licking her neck and caressing her breasts the same way I was doing while she was out of control. She’s shaking and moaning and groaning-so am I. We are doing it simultaneously; trying to outdo one another-each one trying hard to please the other as best we never have each other or anybody.
“Oh baby I love you so much, I love you so much,” we say simultaneously, trying to put those words through one another’s body, heart and mind.
“How does the bath beads feel beneath that ass?” she asks.
“I love it, it’s driving me crazy, it’s so much goin on right now,” I told her.
I’m loving it and her, to death, while she’s giving it up to me. We get out of the sauna and she grabs me by the neck to follow her lead as if I’d better not follow one step out of line on the way to the bedroom. She’s back in control. Loving all over my body like crazy and I’m shaking and taking it. She’s loving the sounds I’m making as I tremble from her every touch, lick, bite and suck. She tells me she’s panting like a dog when she enters me again and now she’s hitting my spot. I’m moaning louder as she’s pushing in and up further and further.
She tells me that she loves how wet I get. I let her listen and watch as she goes in and out. I let her watch as it skeet’s out on to her and it drives her wild. The more she moans, the more I feel like I’m making her lose control, so I try to feel for her (because in my mind), it’s my turn to take over again. She still wants me beneath her but that’s fine. I feel for her clit as she’s pushing up and in while I’m thrusting back. She tells me she is panting like a dog and shaking and trembling like crazy:
“I’m panting like a dog, I’m panting like…” she sighs and fades out at a loss for words. I’m caressing her breasts, darting my tongue and sinking my teeth anywhere I can, while I’m reaching into the harness to manipulate her with my two middle fingers north-south-east-west while managing to slide it between my index and middle finger to manipulate both sides swiftly and simultaneously while tapping the tip of it with the tip of my thumb. She yells and is losing control; she can’t help herself. She’s so wet and so weak that it’s driving me crazy:
“Get up here, get up here right now!” I said. She fights me like hell, telling me “no, no, no, no” while I’m yelling “YES!” she’s hollering “NO!” hating to lose control, but she’s too weak right now-she wants more than what my fingers are doing but hates to lose control. I’m unstrapping her with my left hand and ignoring her tell me “no.”
“I want you, I need you to come up here to mark your spot for me-please, come here,” I beg, while I’m pulling her up over me. She’s screaming and resisting, but when I sit her on my face comfortably; locking her in place and she can’t help herself; she’s losing control and taking it out on the headboard above and yelling at the wall right now while banging her head to it.
“You done lost control huh? You done lost control huh? I got you howling at the moon now huh?” I said, while she’s screaming to the top of her lungs.
She yells: “NO!NO!NO!NO!”
We’re simultaneously yelling at each other. She’s hollering “NO!”
while I’m showing her: “YES!” holding her down tightly over me in a tight suction; she’s in a stiff trance. She can’t move, she can’t do nothing but scream, jerk, holler and cum and take it out on the headboard and the wall.
“Move it around all over my face,” I said to her while she’s now hollering and moaning: “YES!” with me-uncontrollably cumming like she never has before. She’s pulsating and throbbing so hard that it’s driving me crazy. Her loud moans get softer and more faint, then sneakily, like a cat, she sneaks back down on me and snatches me with her mouth just like I like. She caught me off guard, and I’m climaxing like crazy; I was already ready to. We’re both yelling and hollering simultaneously and she’s back in control. “I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU” was all we could say…
There’s nobody like the two of us. The world shakes when we would make love. We both laugh, because no one would ever understand…
“Right babe?” I asked.
“That’s dayuum right,” she responded.
She’s so dayuum sexy.
…But a couple days later she’d pissed me off. She pissed me off because we were about to have one of our sexsions and she gave me rules: A list of places not to touch her.
She told me she didn’t like the “mark your spot” remark I’d made during our last sexsion.
I said: “excuse me, but that went with how we were talking. YOU are the one who said YOU were PANTING like a DOG then I asked YOU to come mark your spot by sitting on my face!”
“I know, but I don’t like it. I don’t like that concept at all. Just don’t say it like that again,” she said.
I thought about how much privacy we didn’t have, and how by the time the IM script had gotten through so many hands, they’d made fun of her and she felt like that, compounded with the things that I’d say to her when she’d piss me off “belittled” her or something.
I knew someone else had to have influenced her, because we talked for a while after the sexsion and she didn’t seem to have a problem with it. That bothered me. I knew I was in for it with this woman and her hired help. Because I’ll never forget that day when she was “panting like a dog;” a while afterwards when we had gone over to the chat room, the nickname: “ALOTAVAGINA” had rolled down. I knew that it was most probably Lissa. That let me know for sure that she did save the IM script and let Lissa and the hired help view the contents in it.
I immediately turned to her and said: “How nice of you to reveal to them how we cyberfuck.”
“No, I didn’t, no I did not!” she replied-lying.
It was then that I knew for sure that nothing about us, between us-nothing, was ever going to be just between “us,” and that, much of her opinion was going to be influenced by her “coach(es).” Yes, I knew that I was going to be in for it-with them too, and fucking them too.
Other times she’d piss me off like, late in the convos or either every third day or so. I don’t know what would happen. She’d break off into this Joanna character off and on like clockwork. I hated when she’d do that because I felt like she wanted complete normalcy from me on my end, by strapping me to some chair while she danced around me and acted out her fantasies; absorbing my real feelings and my real life. Then whenever she’d want or feel the need to (or perhaps may have been instructed), that she may had been behaving too “Janet-like;” she’d get heavily into this Joanna character and it would catch me off guard sometimes, because we’d be getting along just like “Angela” and “Janet;” then she’d pause and come back with her Outback charm. I understood, but I told her that I’d rather not talk to her at all if we were going to have to go through that off and on, because it seemed like that would be the only time we’d fight.
We’re in IM.
We start to talk. We start off fine, and then she strapped me to the chair again, but this time I let her have it. I told her about the so called “trust” she had in me was so temporary because if it were the way we had discussed, we wouldn’t be going through and arguing about the things we were arguing about. I told her that she had the nerve of a burglar claiming to love me, when she really was walking around with that dent in her heart, and doing the crazy things she’d do.
“You kill me, talking about how scared you are. Yeah you are scared. It scares you because of the way you came into my life and ended up feeling things you didn’t expect. Yeah you scared all right. You scared because you and me have done things and gone more places than most people do in years and many not at all. You scared because of how you feel about me was something you ‘sneaked and peaked’ upon and you didn’t expect it-now lookatchoo,” I told her.
“It just don’t seem real, it just doesn’t. I’m so confused,” she confessed-wanting more virtuosity and playing Track 13 in her mind.
“Yeah I bet you are, look at your whole approach and how you go about things. Look at how you are deep down inside. How you gon’ be walking around claiming to know love and what it is about when you’re walking around with a big dent in your heart and afraid to trust. You scared because you are so impulsive, and this (what you and me have), is probably the most time you have ever taken to let someone know you and love you FOR you, and you didn’t expect that either.
Had I let you come here to see me that one time, we probably wouldn’t have gotten as far as we’ve gotten today; at least as close as we are. That’s cause you are so used to getting your way-and fast. That’s why you felt you had some inalienable right to come into my life the way you did. Because all your life you have obviously had things go your way, and all the time, well, it don’t work like that with me Hun. I’m telling you right now. I’m not about to play into your little fantasy at all, you can go your way and I’ll go mine. You can’t miss what you never had anyways. So fuck you. Carry your stupid ass on somewhere else and leave me the hell alone,” I told her.
“Don’t talk to me that way! Don’t talk like that to me Angela. Don’t do that to me. You’re hurting me! You’re making me cry. You’re hurting me!” she said.
When she would try to convey her version of “normalcy” and seriousness, she’d always stress my real name regardless what character she was playing.
I guess this was another one of her times to play Jedi Mind Tricks and psychological games. Well, I’m just her girl. So I finished: “Yeah well that’s too bad “J–oanna!” To bad that you AINT the right J cause we would have it goin on. We would love like crazy, play like crazy, fuck like crazy and just BE crazy.” I said.
“I know, I know, I know. Don’t say that. Cause I know,” she said.
“So when you talk to her, just send her back my way. Would you? Crazy bitch!” I said.
“STOP! STOP! It’s like you are putting a knife in my heart and twisting it over and over. Quit talking to me like that and just leave! Just leave now! You are hurting me!” she said.
“Yeah and don’t expect me to log in to IM for your ass anymore you stupid bitch you!” I said, trying hard to cut her with words.
She went on and on crying, YELLING and begging until I disconnected.
I was so pissed at her. I couldn’t understand what on earth could make her do the things she’d do. It was like she didn’t know what it was like to continue having a good time for too long. Like she was afraid, or things were almost too good to be true. But I loved her so much. I was getting so used to “us” being just, “us,” and then she just pulled the rug from beneath my feet more and more, right when I’d get comfortable with her all over again. I could almost imagine what it would be like for any man to try and love this woman, or any woman to be her friend. She was such a basket case at times.
(Track 16-again-I guess…)
Back to the chat room.
When I walked in, someone nicknamed: “ryanOWL” was asking if anyone knew of the chatter named “Clittie” and if so, what was her email addy because he’d lost it. Immediately I thought back to that January day that I was lurking, when Trickster stopped in the chat room to get a list of all Janet’s songs from anyone who might have had a web page with all the songs on it. I remembered how concerned “Clittie” was. I thought about her pics with him and knew that “ryanOWL” was someone who worked for Janet, and that the next destination for them was “Clittie’s” computer, but she hadn’t been in either, since that January day…
Down beamed Sassy: “Angela.”
“Don’t call me by my name, it’s Cinamon to you Hun!” I said.
This woman was wild.
“Angela? Angela!” she said twice, as if I didn’t just tell her not to call my name.
“Don’t talk to me crazy girl, I’m talking to somebody right now,” I said. Then my power completely goes out of my computer. I had to reboot it to get back on.
She reminded me of a type of Samantha Montgomery of Bewitched; standing there with her hands on her hips snapping her fingers and changing shit the way she wanted, when she’d do stuff like this.
I got back on and headed back for the room: “Angela, I’m waiting on you to answer me,” she said.
Feeling like I was raising and grasping for air I said: “Waiting? If you are waiting on anything from me then you’ll just be a lady in waiting.”
She blinked her really eyes fast and said: “Then I’ll be just that then. I’m having some connection problems and when they are fixed I’ll let you know. I can’t hookup to IM until it’s fixed though.”
I just laughed in amazement because I knew that I was in for it with this woman. I knew she was about to be too much for the head. I went to my Hell mail and blocked her out, every which way that I could. I went to IM and blocked her out, LockiejawsLissa out, Qbenlyric2 out, and Alina out and anybody, that was associated with her or any of her handles, nicknames, email addys and all-every which way I could. I was so hurt and mad at her. She’d call and hang up on me sometimes once, sometimes 3 or more whenever we’d fight. She was just too much for me-man.
I played my sad love songs on my CD Rom:
“A Song for You,” by Donnie Hathaway
They’re is blasting from the speakers of my CD Rom over and over while tears fell from my eyes. She really hurt and pissed me off at the craziest times-just when I would be getting deeper and deeper into her…
I stayed away from chat and out of IM for a day or two. I went to my Hell Mail and there she was; three messages anyways-as if my little blocks didn’t have anything on what she had the control to do. When I read the emails, she acted as if nothing ever happened-telling me that she loved me and missed me. And about her new connection she was waiting on. I just laughed and shook my head. I could just imagine her standing there; just blinking her pretty wide eyelids; stretching her uniquely beautiful bright eyes, looking like a hopeful little kid-watching me, while I’m reading; hoping that she didn’t lose the “only person she had ever loved this way, the only person who ever got all that she had to give.”
I smiled and wrote her back:
Date: Sat 01 May 99 16:30 PM PDT
Subject: hey u
Hey baby. I feel like such a sucker for even writing you back because I had blocked everything I could that had anything to do with you at first but I am such a sucker for you here I am writing you back and about to remove my so-called blocks. I really miss you too and am tired of thinking about you morning, noon and night…smile…I miss you I know that…anyways just email me when you are back up and I’ll log on to you okay?
The Maniac damned sure made her way in for a quickie:
“*W…I miss you” she said. “I miss you too,” I returned.
We got quiet.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Well, a little…hesitant,” she confessed.
“Well, we don’t need to waste time debating about why we fought, but I do know that I don’t want hesitance from you because it just wastes precious time,” I said.
“Yes, I agree,” she said.
This time we start off in the bed. She starts from the bottom and works her way to the top. We hardly say a word to one another except for how much one missed the other and how much we loved each other.
“Go get my thingy,” I said. She straps on Mr. Happy.
“You still mad at me?” I asked.
“No, I’m not mad at you anymore,” she said.
She grinds it in slowly. She then thrusts into me wildly. So wild, that we fall to the floor. She tells me she likes the thickness of the carpet scraping her knees. I open up wider for her to insert Mr. Happy as far as she could until she could feel the bottom of me.
I tell her that I’m pulling away from her while she’s trying to catch up to me.
“Oh my gosh-the carpet burns…they’re driving me crazy,” she said; feeling pain, pleasure and masochistic. I’m still backing away while she’s grabbing me tightly and forcing Mr. Happy to stay deep inside. We’re both moaning. I back into the wall. I can’t move:
“Now whatcho gonna do about it?” I asked her-wanting her to get more sadistic.
“I’m gonna fuck the shit outta this wet pussy,” she shouts over and over.
“Fuck me harder! Since you know I can’t go any further you need to be fucking me harder!” I demanded. I’m supporting myself up by my hands with my legs wrapped tightly around her waist, while she supports herself by holding her hands to the wall.
“Squeeze me tighter, hold your legs around me tighter,” she says impatiently. I do what she says while she’s banging away. I’m taking it. We are wild and screaming like crazy.
“Now. Tell me. You still mad at me? Show me how mad you were at me? Fuck me the way you were mad at me,” I said.
She’s pounding away and screaming like craaaazy. I tell her to put both her hands around my neck while she thrusts; her knuckles were scraping against the wall. Something goes though her while she does it.
“Now, fuck me the way you were mad at me. Tell me what you were goin’ through,” I demanded.
She starts to thrust with crazy reminiscent anger from our fight, pleasure from our sexsion and pain from her knuckles being pinched against the wall as she is holding me by the neck: “ANGELA, don’t cho EVER IN YOUR LIFE TELL ME THAT YOU ARE LEAVING ME, DON’T EVER DON’T EVER DON’T EVER TELL ME YOU GOIN NO WHERE. YOU DON’T EVER TELL ME YOU ARE LEAVING ME!” she said over and over while I reached into the harness to rub her clit so that we could cum together. We’re both screaming and moaning until we were unable to understand what the other was saying. We fell to the floor and held each other tightly.
“Skin to skin;” she said, reminding me of a line from another one of Janet’s songs called “The Body That Loves You.”
Our hearts raced a mile a minute. “I love yo sexy ass,” she said. “I love YO sexy ass,” I returned.
No one would ever understand…
She emailed me later:
Hey sweet thang. I’ll be around online a little this weekend…just letting u know. I don’t know when tho really. Still haven’t got the connection fixed up tho mym (miss you much) wit yo sexy ass
Date: Monday 03 May 99 22:50PM PDT
I hope you’re not mad because I didn’t stay logged on this morning. But I’ll check back with you in the morning to see if you are okay…missing you…gotta lotta reading to do anyways…(distracted thinkin’ ’bout you…imma quit writin’ like dat anyways cause I really think that you think imma country bumpkin now forealz…as of this email…lazy slangs gonna stop! LoL…Love u.
P.S-im gonna stay logged on in case you come in, I have a couple of papers to write okay? I miss you and I hope you aren’t mad at me.
Baby I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry I haven’t been on but I’ve been having some connection problems at home (im at work now) so I’m gon’ be getting a new service provider ASAP. Hopefully before the end of this week. I love you too beautiful. I’ve been missing you too. I hope to be online soon I’ve kind of got a cold so if I get really sick and have my connection up soon then that will make a day of computer fun LoL or something. I feel really achy though. Hope to see you soon Mym-Joanna
I wrote back:
Date: Wed 05 May 99 14:31PM PDT
Missing you is like the understatement of the year…(smile) I really hope you feel better. Did u get the elderberry tea? I also forgot to tell you to get some garlic capsules too. I really don’t know what else to say because I don’t know all the ways to tell you how much I miss you except…I miss you *TTTTTTTTTTWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW (fat kiss!) I’ll log on in the evenings and afternoons to see if you are on…*pouting cause I miss you again…LoL Well I’ll keep checking off and on for your connect alright? I hope you feel better though. Remedy? Get you some elderberry tea (no sugar, no honey) so you can feel a lot better. I sure as hell don’t want you sick with me. You already work my nerves!…LoL you better get well…missing you (foreal)
Well now I’ve got myself a doctors certificate that says I don’t have to work until Monday, so Ill be at home. I wont be on in the mornings because I need to sleep. But in your afternoons and evenings I should be around if I’m feeling ok
This was around the time she was scheduled to be overseas at the World Music Awards ceremony.
The only way she was able to say something about it was in open chat where she and her hired help would carry on skits about her whereabouts and what, if anything, was going on that she felt I should know about, but could not say directly to me in IM or in email. When she was, I guess, “on-route” to the ceremony; I had come in, and the nickname: “GONE” had dropped down on me and said: “Cinamon what’s up?”
I knew that was my cue so I responded:
“nothing just peeking in. ********gone*.”
“Gone” responded: “okay.”
So, her recent “Joanna” signed emails and “work certificate” excuses weren’t bothering me as much because I felt like she had a valid “excuse” to change up on me-this time-understandably, but as for the connection/new service provider issue? Hell yeah I believed that. She had this whole computer shit and connect to my computer locked down so tough that I’d never argue that.
Date: Thu, 06 May 9:45am PDT
Subject: I’m here now
I had checked my mail this morning around 6:45am my time but I didn’t stay in because it wasn’t afternoon…sorry even though you didn’t get to read my first thoughts. You did get my first thoughts when I woke up…(smile)…I’m bout to take a bath right now because I have a 2pm mid term and I’m home on a break. I’ll sign in though and will check it when I get out of the tub…right now it’s like…12:45pm my time…I’m sorry I missed you earlier…
Did u just leave?
I have my connection set up and going so I hope to see you soon
Happy to hear from her; I put in my Alexander O’Neal CD and listened to “Sunshine,” Terrance Trent D’Arby’s “Sign Your Name,” and Prince’s TLC’s version of “If I Was Your Girlfriend,” and “At Your Best, You Are Love” by Aaliyah while I wrote back:
Dang man. You told me you’d stay on, now I come back and you’re off…I’ll just wait then. And honestly. I was kinda mad at first and I was thinking, “nall I don’t think I wanna talk to her anymore tonight while she is in this kinda mood and all” so I left right out to run and get me something to drink (in a shitty kind of mood and all) at first I was about to ride around for a second and dropped some books off to the library and all). At first I was coming out of the store and about to get into my car and fell down on my hands and knees and fuckin scraped them, in front of about 6 guys!…man I was laughing at myself…then I said “that’s what I get for being hellish…” then I turned back around and now you’re gone…shit I dunno I wish you’d talk to me and tell me what you are mad about…I don’t like it when you are like this…I sw… well…you know…
(she hated for me to use the word “swear” or “oh my god”)
Back in my own virtual world I had been neglecting a lot of my own personal friends who needed me and I wasn’t always readily available to them because besides work, school and taking care of my kid, Janet was a handful and a job in itself.
So I took out the time to write my friend Kim a letter to explain to her some things we had debated about on the phone regarding my “selfishness” in our friendship.
The truth is, I was too embarrassed to give details of what I had been going through in my “virtual” world but I did the best I could by interjecting my personal truth and the “virtual” truth. You see, I was sensing something was going on that I couldn’t quite put my finger on as yet but for now, I wanted to condition my bestie to resort to writing more than calling me-until I found out for sure.
I was nervous as fuck but I did the best I could:
Check it out. At first I was gonna write (type) your name up in the upper right hand corner along with your address and shit. And then in the bottom left corner I was gonna write (type) my own name and address and shit as if this was some sort of informal letter seeing as though I am typing it rather than actually writing it.
You know, I’ve always believed that you can tell a lot about a person’s personality and/or read their emotion through their handwriting. So typing what’s on my mind rather than telling you on the phone or putting it in my very own handwriting is safer for me right now. Besides the fact that since all this new technology (that you so badly hate) I have learned to develop such hatred for putting pen to paper these days. And I know you can remember that at one time I’d always write and or draw something in a letter or card just like that. Now it’s like (since all this new technology that you so badly hate) I almost expect to just think about what I want to say expect the computer to do it for me. Even when I think about sending you a card or letter the first thing I do is look at my computer and expect IT to do it for me. The only thing that prohibits THAT from happening is that since you are not so impressed with new technology and all I can’t drop you a line or send a card and all since you can’t be on the receiving end of my computer shit. But you?
You still keep yours coming, the cards the letters pictures and everything AS IF this new technology shit had never existed. And then I have the NERVE to send you out to your nearest library and have you sit for hours only to set up some weak ass email account so that we could communicate…(hmm how selfish of me again huh?) That’s really …(cant think of a word). Well, I have been thinking about you and our last conversation we had off and on and like I have a tendency to do (here lately) is kind of “wish” it away. Seems I do that a whole lot when the feelings of another person (and especially my feelings) play a big part in it. It’s like the only time I’m confrontational is when there is negative conflict or something like that…Funny how things change and how people change huh? And then we have the nerve to be bombarded with technology just like “taking care of things for us” if you will. That’s…(I still can’t think of a word). I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately Kim and yes I don’t deny my shortcomings-selfishness being one of them, but again I apologize for that word (selfish) I have taken on alongside many other things (here lately). It may not seem like it, but I just want to let you know that I do feel really bad. With all this fast paced shit (technology) and all going on; the least I could do is take some time out for my friend Kim who lives miles away in California. Especially seeing as though all the other people that already have access to me are right here in Cincinnati-the other two friends who aren’t in Cincinnati are still closer in (distance) to me than you. That’s…(I still cant think of a word) but what I do know is that I really feel bad. Kim I don’t know. It’s really unfortunate that we don’t live near each other or talk as much as we used to. And yes I know that I am the one to blame but I’m sure you know that it has nothing to do with you, but rather my selfishness and my impatience with anything other than what new technology provides for me you know? Even though that is a factor in the way that I choose to communicate, I assure you that the better part of me hasn’t been taken away (even though you may find that hard to believe here lately).
Kim, I always say that “man I can’t wait until I’m done with my second book so that I can give it to Kim so that she can read her part (especially). That alongside the other things I speak about on friendship and in my other book (relationships) would kind of give her such an understanding of ME since I last saw her in the flesh in like…forever! Because Kim actually even though we’ve kept in touch and we know that nothing could come between us as friends (oops! my selfishness is coming into play again, because I really don’t know as of now if YOU feel that way anymore).
But…I thought I’d give it a whirl anyways. But, over the years we talked about things in our lives and all, and of course I’ve confided many things in you but have sort of danced around my true thoughts or feelings about things. Because the way I see things now as compared to way back when is like a total about face. So it’s like, to be honest Kim, NOBODY, here in Cincinnati, Atlanta, New York or even you there in California know how I really feel about things. NOBODY knows how I react to things or see things in grave detail. Its unfortunate that I’m still waiting with my fingers crossed on publishers before you and Aya in California, Denise in New York, Tina in Atlanta, and my friends here in Cincinnati get a copy of what I really and truly think and feel-here lately. But, we are not talking about nobody else right now-just you-so that’s all I am gonna say about anyone else Ms Kim. Anyways. I guess what I am trying to say is that though it may not seem like it, I really and truly do value the friendship that we have. However, I look at it as a blessing that you weren’t here in Cincinnati throughout all my changes within my friendships because I nickname them and look at them in such a different way than I did year’s ago-some bad and some good. When I think of you being in California during these changes, it makes me feel like perhaps we have a better chance at a better, true and more sincere closeness since you and I were physically apart during my re-evaluation of the true meaning of friendship. I say that because now that I know now what I didn’t know then, (believe it or not) despite all my selfish ways, I AM more patient and skillful in dealing with people as a whole-namely friendship. Since you weren’t here during this particular time in my life nor had you been around to cause me any strain in our friendship, (believe it or not) it gives a better chance on viewing our friendship without being biased. Because during my whole re-evaluation time, you weren’t around to cause me any strain in our friendship that could quite possibly limit or restrict how I deal with you as a friend and that really does mean a lot to me (believe it or not).
If I were to write in grave detail about the many things that I am trying to say to you, this too would be another book. So I’d rather you wait until you get your copy but I will brief you on something that may give you a clearer understanding on my personal philosophy on things here lately. Well Kim, here lately, unlike then, I am more into me in much more ways than I ever thought I could ever be-and no I wont buy into your belief that I am selfish that particular aspect. Because I look at getting into me as more self-preserving and centered in self rather that being selfish which was something I never thought in a million years I had it in me to do when I think of the ME way back when. After re-evaluating myself I started to re-evaluate other things people and situations around me, and the conclusions I’d come to had sort of “changed.” Changed in that I had learned to let go of a lot of things that at one time I wasn’t able to which sort of helped me in my life with things, situations and people all the way around.
After that, my personal philosophy on how I view things is validated each and everyday that I open my eyes and ears to things around me. Which is such a blessing in disguise, if you will, because I can remember a time in my life when I was in such denial about these same things that I can clearly see and in such ways that at one time I never thought I could. That, in turn, enabled me to surrender some things, accept others and/or just deal with some things with a long handle spoon if it didn’t cause me any financial, mental, emotional, spiritual or physical harm. And that goes for anything up to and including all things-people included (men, women, friendships and/or relationships). But me? I’m still the same person, just handling things a different way than I did way back when I was out of control with life and my very own life was out of control-that’s all Kim. The only thing that changed as far as you and me are concerned is the gap in communication and this thing that you hate so badly called “technology.”
That’s it. And that’s something I cannot say about anyone else here, in Atlanta or New York (believe it or not) and that really makes me feel good to say and think about when I do think of our friendship. And I just wanted to let you know that. Well, I’m about to go, because you know I’ll be writing forever, but hopefully you understand me a little more than the last time you heard my voice. If you decide you’d like to address all that I’ve said, do so by snail mail (oops…I forgot to mention-that’s opposite technologies “email”) so that I’ll be able to visualize your emotion rather than trying to pick up on it by phone so that perhaps we could start anew. (I would ask that you type it by computer or even typewriter so that I wouldn’t have to guess your emotion if you write by hand as well…HaHa…but that would probably be selfish of me too…smile)…I’ll talk to you later Kim.
P.S-these words were just on my mind and all I wanted to say. I feel somewhat better know that I’ve that I’ve taken time out and got it off my chest and I really hope you understand.
I had been sitting at home that particular Saturday cleaning up and cooking, and a made for television movie had come on called “What About Your Friends.” I had gotten so touched by the theme that I broke down and cried thinking about this virtual mess I was (really) in, not knowing if or when it would end, and the affect it was having on my friendships in my virtual world. I just shook my head, cried and wrote the letter. I actually thought about writing everyone a letter, but Kim was the farthest away. I saved it to my disc and immediately went up to my school’s lab to print it and mail it off to her.
Afterwards, I knew I’d better check in with my other half to see how and what she was doing, so that she could get some of my energy.
When I logged on to her she was terrible, she was rude, crude, calloused and mean-the other half of herself. She sat there with her hands folded; looking at the wall while she verbally abused me to death-just throwing out words; not wanting to talk to me but daring me to excuse myself. She was sitting there as if I should be able to read her mind. I couldn’t believe this woman. I really couldn’t. There was no such thing as reasoning with her. And I mean I tried-for a couple of hours. Then she finally decided to speak:
“You need to get your head together. You need to sort your feelings out.”
I was confused. I thought that she and I was clear on where we stood in each other’s life, but with her, every single day was an emotional roller coaster. I was still trying while she was still-just listening, and when she got tired of listening to me ask her over and over again-for hours: “tell me what’s wrong so that we can talk about it and work it out” she put her hands on her hips and snapped her fingers like Bewitched. I just sat there looking stupid; sitting there thinking about how when she’d do this, the sound of it was just as if she was virtually clicking a tight light switch off in the same house with me. She was pissed as hell at me. Instead of logging back on, I emailed her:
Date: Sat 08 May 99 18:48 pm PDT
I got the drift. I mean, I tried everything I possibly could. I’m not gonna go into anything long and drawn out because I’m sure you know how I really felt about you and all. And I SWEAR to you on everything I own and love, that I meant it from the deepest depths of my heart. But I aint gonna try it again, and I usually don’t come back for seconds, and then I do, and this is the thanks I get. You talkin’ bout “get my feelings sorted?” you need to get yours sorted. Besides what do you know? You still walking around with a dent in your heart and calling yourself able to love somebody all over gain. Hmmm. You got the nerve of a burglar. At least I can admit that what I felt for you, I honestly hadn’t felt like that in over ten years and shit…that’s funny. I did love you though. But I’m out. Don’t bother writing back because I wont be checking for you no more…checking for you in email or in IM. Be good and be careful. I’m out. Take Care. (And by the way, I’m not gonna go through the routine of asking that you do your part by promising to totally disconnect from me, cause I done already made up my mind that I wasn’t gonna even check for you anymore. Normally I’d say I swear on my child, that I wouldn’t fuck with you anymore, but since I quit swearing on my kid, I can’t say it now. But consider this goodbye in other words in place of swearing on him.
From my CD Rom-I listened to Chante Moore’s old CD to a song called “As If We Never Met,” obsessed with the words of the one song that always rang in my head and reminded me of her like crazy. The lyrics went through me.
I logged off, and went back to my own virtual world.
Late that night I thought about Janet deeply, trying so hard to come up with the reasons for her many mood swings and why she’d be so angry with me off and on. I couldn’t understand her sometimes. It was like; if we talked six different times in a day, she’d be mad four of the six times. Then it had dawned on me.
I remembered the time I was in the room when I’d seen a convo going on about how Janet was pissed about another girl who was an old friend of mine. That caught my attention, because Janet knew of the girl from retrieving my emails and letters in my computer. The girl was an ex-lover of mine who’d been going through some religious/emotional/mental issues dealing with bisexuality, which had put a big dent in our friendship. In one of the files that were in Janet’s possession, I had wrote something about a particular thing that I liked about the girl and how she’d call ever so often, and how it was hard for us to rekindle our friendship because we’d slept together when we knew we shouldn’t have.
I’d also remembered how a convo was going on in the room where someone mentioned: “Kim is the best friend.”
I remembered how earlier this particular night, my friend Danyay had called and told me that she was going to pick up some things from the grocery store and I had asked her to pick me up a couple half pints of Amaretto coffee cream for my coffee. Immediately when I got off the phone with Danyay, I had gone to give Janet some of my energy and the nickname: “CoffeeCream” rolled down.
I thought about the 4am phone call where I’d heard a series of beeps in my ear; the same ones that rang my friends phone that 4:10pm day. I thought about how right before I was on my way over to this friends’ house, when I entered the room to tell her I was about to leave out; the nickname: “YAMP (young tramp)” rolled down a few times. Now I know why she did that and then called over to my friends house at the very same time she heard us say her kid would be home-4:10pm.
I thought about the day how, out of the blue, when Janet stated she was going to order out for pizza-with “CHICKEN” on it. To my knowledge, I didn’t think she ate chicken anymore. It had dawned on me that she’d only said that because of the discussion she heard between my friend and me about my eating chicken again. Immediately I felt like that was just too much of a “coincidence,” as was so many other things she’d do and say, and how she’d behave, up to this point.
I remembered the day she gave me the list of lovemaking “rules” of places not to go when we make love: “hint: armpits, anus, head or feet.” She’d obviously listened in on sexual conversations I’d have with friends.
I thought about the times she’d say I sounded like I was from Alabama.
I thought about times I’d be complaining to friends over the phone, about how much control Janet had over my computer and how I was going to get a laptop as soon as I could spell a.b.l.e. After complaining about that, I’d see the nickname: “laptopjacker” roll down in the chat room.
I thought about the times she and I would be getting dressed and we’d always ask what the other had on. One day my friend and me were gonna go somewhere and I remember my friend asked me what was I gonna slip on. I told her that I was gonna wear a tank shirt and a pair of parachute pants (meaning to say cargo pants). That same day, while Janet was getting dressed, she had stated she was putting on a pair or snowboarding pants and then said: “I mean-parachute pants…”
I thought back to the times I’d sing Marilyn Monroe jingles for peoples birthdays and I’d see skits and convos in chat talking about “Marilyn Monroe” jingles…
I thought about the time my friend had called me during a time “Poetic Justice” was on TV, and we’d gotten on to a discussion about this child Janet had been rumored to have, (the “first born” that [Qbenlyric2] “put that on”). In chat right afterwards, the nickname: “JanetBaby” rolled down. The hired help, (or perhaps even her) that owned the nickname kept asking: “has anybody in here seen my mom?”
I thought back to one of the many times she’d gotten mad and disconnected me from my computer, and I’d have to go the computer lab at school to ask her if she would give me my service back. One day in particular I remembered seeing the nickname: “phonetapp” roll down and Dread had come down to ask me how I was doing. So that [she] could see, ’cause I knew she was watching, I responded: “Oh I’m a little ‘Computer Blue’ and would like to go home.” Then the nickname “WhereverUare…” rolled down as if to finish by saying: “…I will know.” Now, I know what it meant.
And lastly, I thought about Janet’s crazy mood swings that I couldn’t explain; why she stayed mad at me every other fucking day, and every 4hrs. It all dawned on me in the middle of the night-Janet had my phone tapped…
I didn’t want to alarm her or scare her away, but I wanted to let her know that I knew now, how she knew so much by way of all that she’d seen on my computer and heard on my phone.
I wrote her:
Date: Sun, 09 May 99 00:41am PDT
You know what? It’s fuckin 3:30 in the morning and something just dawned on me. Man, when I said you were a mu’fucka…that there was THE understatement of the century dammit. Now I know why you trippin and guess what? That’s what the fuck you get! I really should be mad at ya ass in a totally different way for THAT move though but instead…I can’t do nothing but shake my head from left to right with my hand placed upon it. Girl you a mu’fuckin’ trip…I swear man, you too live for me. I’m thinking far back as I can even with what your sneaky ass did, I still can’t see why you would be so upset with me…somewhat. But instead of you drawing your own mu’fuckin’ conclusions to shit, you should have asked instead of peekin’ and prowlin’…I wouldn’t have even been mad at you if woulda just came out and said what was on your head and chest. *Still shakin my head. I just don’t know what the fuck to say except damn…you are a mu’fucka. That is just too live for me. But that’s what the FUCK you get. I don’t know if I’m shakin my head cause I think it’s cute or if I feel like I SHOULD be mad, and just can’t be because that’s just how you are or what…Now I know why you so fuckin reserved sometimes when it comes to me, but I still say you come to some bullshit conclusions about all that you’ve GATHERED!!!!!!! Nosianna!!! You are a mu’fucka *shakin my head…Man!!!!!!!!!(THAT’S WHAT YOU GET!) You creepy crawler!!!!!!!Ooh…You didn’t have to go that route with me cause I meant what said when I said that I’d never hurt you but I guess with only gathering PART of any convo would make somebody as untrusting, insecure and controlling as YOU walking around with a dent in her heart think that anybody they fall in love with would be out to get them…But it’s just all in your head…Especially when it comes to me…
I went to sleep just thinking about her; wondering what the hell she was going to say and if she would even respond. I couldn’t stop looking at my telephone; staring at it as if I could see what she was doing on the other side of it. Probably running around the house with her fingers in her mouth and her shoulders pinned up-embarrassed. I lay there, amazed at her; as her meaning of “control” and admitted selfishness and greed meant more to me than I could have ever imagined. When I think of this woman, there is one word that comes to mind first: SERIOUS, and I mean that, in every sense of the word. She is SERIOUS-her behavior and everything about her. What she does, what she says-everything: SERIOUS.
I lay there, just listening to my computers loud and buzzing hard drive hopping off with activity all night long; just thinking about how it was the beginning of all that was to come. I didn’t sleep well. I had to do my best to get Miss Control back online so that she could explain just why she would tap my fucking phone. Not only that, I was oh so curious about how long she had had it tapped. I was baffled. I kicked the rooster in the ass that morning:
Date: Sun, 09 May 99 05:50am PDT
Hey girl, I KNOW you got my last email and I do expect to hear from you today cause I aint on that silly shit that you been on for the past few days. Now I’m gonna stay on cause I’m like dying to hear what you got to say is in your mind now. My mind is really really been on overload since 3am this morning. You are too damned live for me *shakin head, I still love you though. I really do. I know you know I do…Can we talk? About whatever…BTW (by the way)…One thing in particular that sticks out in my mind and if you wanna talk about it or whatever I don’t mind. I hope if you feel like talking things over, your rudeness, stubbornness and DELIBERATE meanness leaves while doing so cause I really aint on your shit today. I’m gonna be waiting on you girl. Love you.
I logged out to get some rest. A couple hours later, I sat down in my comfortable black Futon chair to log on. As soon as I placed my hand upon the mouse to put the cursor on my Instant Messenger icon, a series of numbers were being typed to rename the icon as if it was actually me sitting there typing it. I sat there and looked at my right hand on my mouse and my left hand on my left leg. I had to double-check what I was seeing one more time. I knew that it couldn’t be that I had some kind of mental gift to change things without touching them.
It was wild. I laughed. I knew it was Janet, embarrassed and being silly again. Then she went up to my Netscape Communicator Icon and changed the entire label from “Netscape Communicator” to just: “32” (her age), as if to say: “fuck Netscape Communicator, I’m runnin’ this”). Now revealing her “magic;” showing me all that she has had control of since I revealed to her what I knew. I knew for sure then, that the Internet world from what was my PC was really under her control as was my phone line and no telling what else. I sat there watching and laughing. I let her do it, and I left it there. It was (basically) her computer anyways…
Sometimes she was like a ten year old kid; she was so child-like at times like you wouldn’t believe. And sometimes I’d think she had multiple personalities. Now I know why besides the fact she needed to hide behind many nicknames because she is “Janet;” the multiple character personalities were really up her alley anyways. She still hadn’t written back, yet, and it was now 11:16am and I had kicked the rooster in the ass and started sending for her since 3:30am. So I wrote again.
I needed to get her back on. I was scared that she wasn’t going to come back-or that it wasn’t going to be fun for her now that I knew for sure:
Date: Sun, 09 May 08:16am PDT
Subject: Y.O.U 2
But anyways. Don’t be tryna get all shy and shit now. I’m waiting on you with ya…(I can’t think of a word right now) *shakin my head. Laughing with my head in my hands…omigosh…you are w.i.l.d…I can’t do nothing but laugh foreal…I still love you though…buttchyo crazy. *brow raised, lips tooted and twisted upwards…
I couldn’t get her to come into IM, into the chat room, or to answer my emails. So I went on about my day and figured she’d come in later, or was probably consulting with whomever, to decide what her next move would be. I wrote:
Date: Sun, 09 May 99 13:28pm PDT
Girl, why you trippin now? I told you that I would talk to you, now you all mute and shit? Now tell me why you been all shady…I’m all ears now…*lips twisted…DON’T be acting al shy and shit now…I aint mad at you…I hope that you don’t think so. I’m kinda laughin’. Foreal…especially thinking back. Anyways, hurry up, girl cause I aint got all day. I been waiting on you for HOURS!!!…*twistin’ my head and neck…If you don’t wanna talk about…then we don’t have to K? But hurry cause I don’t feel like sitting at this computer all damned day you coward…LoL
She finally came into IM.
“What are you doing?” I asked. She didn’t answer me.
“Baby, I’m not mad at you, so I don’t know why you are acting all silly. This is ridiculous.” I said.
“Angela. Are you tired of me yet? Are you?” she asked innocently.
I just looked at her. I watched her standing there; biting her finger like a little kid-stretching her bright eyes and blinking fast. I just imagined her hesitance, as one of her little playmates pushed her into the room to be alone with me, to face what she had done. She’s just standing there with her pretty little innocent child-like smile; finger in her mouth trying to hide her face from me with her other hand, while peeking through her fingers. I’m looking at her, and I’m smirking a little bit.
We talked around the subject, and I found out that a lot of her six out of four mood swings and hissy fits per day had a lot to do with what she’d “overheard.” I also found the answers to my questions that I’d always ask myself: “does she expect me to read her mind?” and “how do I know what’s on her mind?” and “why the hell she is mad at me this time?”
I couldn’t do nothing but laugh, because really-again, like since the beginning, what could I do? I’d been pretty much technologically powerless since I first walked into her door. As long as I could do what I had it in me to do for her-keep her happy and keep loving her, I figured she would not clown on me-ever…
We didn’t talk too much on IM that day, nor did we in the chat room. She weighed heavily on my mind like you wouldn’t believe. She emailed though:
“Lawd…girl you got to be on something
I never knew anyone like you
I don’t even know what to say
I love you though.”
From the next/upcoming chapter excerpt drop:
I hope you didn’t think I wasn’t answering you on purpose-I received all your messages and I appreciated them
I suppose you are right, as sad as I am to say so
I love you to Angela
Don’t ever be too far away ok?
I wish I could write more to you
We’re in IM. We talked around her situation that she was “going through.” I then told her: “People kill me complicating things. The only thing that makes relationships seem so complicated is the fear of removing things that bring peace of mind.”
She responded: “Sometimes, the less complicated way isn’t always the easiest way…”
“But I thought you had so much shit under your control,” I said.
She responded: “No, not this. This is not under my control. Say, why don’t you quit worrying, and think about what ahead is in store for you.”
“I want you; the right way…” I said to her.
“Angela. I know. I know EXACTLY what you are saying when you say that Angela. I am feeling you right now. You hear me?” she said seriously and compassionately-knowing just the song I was singing from my heart….
“I hear you,” I said with tears in my eyes; confused and hurt as hell around this time.
She “couldn’t stay on long”-again…
I wrote her:
Date: Wed, 02 Jun 99 04:46am PDT
Nope, I knew that U got them so that wasn’t an issue. I am just kinda tired and really like dying on the inside cause I’m thinking for you and am still tryna think for myself. It’s like, I have a good feel for you and me and then again the other side of me knows that there’s so much other stuff going on and all, and that’s the part that makes me crazy. I hate it when we “sneak and talk” and then I think about the things are probably going on with you on your end and me knowing ME like I know me, it’s like so unnecessary, however I DO understand. All day it’s on my mind and when I talk to you I’m forced to just put it aside, but then I think, “why should I put what’s on my mind aside when she…(plus)…knows everything I feel about her anyways?”…and the whole situation. That drives me crazy. I know that I hope u know that I DO love u and I really miss u all day EVERYDAY. The hardest part is missing u cause I don’t wanna miss u. and I hate it. Just like I hate having to hide the things that I really feel inside all the time. I hate doing things that only make me look back and wish I hadn’t. The craziest part is that I can’t honestly say “I wish I hadn’t” but I’m feeling that way when I lay down at night.
I have so much running through my mind.
No, I don’t want you to write more than u should, that’s not an issue. It’s the part that causes me too much concentration (thinking for you and for me). That works me to no end. I told you once before that “I wanted you the right way” and that’s what I meant. U told me u knew just what I said when I said it, and I know u did. But do something about it…
I love u…like no other…and that will never change…and I hope u fully understand what I mean when I say that as well…
We’re in IM.
She’s dry and rude. I’m just cooperating, as usual, hoping that she would tell me what was wrong. She told me that she was “going through some things right now” …again.
“What things?” I asked.
“Umm, lets just say some ‘legal issues,’ she said. I didn’t respond.
In my mind, from the tone of our convo, I picked up such attitude in her energy that I really didn’t know how to respond to her or what to say to her even, so I let her do pretty much all the talking.
I thought about her “legal issues” being the millions of dollars of debt she was to pay this now ex boyfriend of hers so that he wouldn’t make good on his threats. She then disclosed to me that she was about 3/4th‘s of the way into paying the debt and I should just chill out and understand.
Still I just-listened…
Next, she said: “Cinamon, how would you feel if I told you that I slept with someone else?”
My heart dropped to the damned floor and my eyes got big. I sat up in my chair and responded: “*looking stupid.”
She then asked: “Well, how do you feel about it?”
I sighed virtually and coolly responded: “well, I can’t really say that I feel any particular way about it, just that I am looking rather stupid right now, obviously. I mean it’s obvious that you had to have wanted to, unless you wouldn’t have done it. I mean, I can’t really say anything since you and me haven’t “consummated” what we have and all, I don’t know, it’s just “a thing” really-between you and me, if you really wanna know-I guess,” I said-pouting and with my defenses up-as usual.
“No, it was more than that, it was more than that, it was a relationship,” she responded offensively.
Her use of past tense bothered me. The: “it was more than that.” So I responded: “Well if you considered it a relationship, then you wouldn’t have done it with her, obviously you wanted her.”
“Well, she is attracted to me and the time was right and she was there. I have to send her home until November, until my legal issues are over and we thought we’d fuck since we wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while,” she simply said.
I just sat there. Thinking about this “goodbye fuck,” wondering if there were tears or passion, because female relationships are so much more intense than with men-especially with her. Everything with, of and around her is intense-it just is. I can’t explain it. I was hurt as hell deep down inside, but I never ever wanted her to know exactly how hurt and upset she’d make me at times when she was like this; so blasé like it was “just a thing.”
There were really no words I could post on the screen to describe how I would have screamed in her ear over the phone-no words whatsoever, and if we were face to face-well, we would have been tussling alright…
Immediately I thought then about what was always in the back of my mind. About how her attention span was all over the place when it came to what she wanted and how impulsive she was; the main reason I so was apprehensive about getting involved with her in the first place.
I thought about the time she confessed that she has had one-night stands-a-plenty and it upset me-all over again.
I thought about the smut mag rumor that mentioned how she was sleeping with some friend heavily, at the end of her tour, and in my mind, it couldn’t have been anyone else but “Drama” because that was around the time the two of them double-dissed me and her comment: “THAT’S MAH GIRL! THAT’S MY MU’FUCKIN GIRL!” rang in my head as Butta brought on the Drama on that January 21st day.
I thought about a time just a couple weeks prior to this convo of ours, how she and “Drama” were sitting next to each other and how distant and different our convo was. I thought about how this QUEEN felt the need to announce that “Drama” was even around. I remember that day she said to me out of the blue: “you can’t be jealous of Shawn” (Butta’s real name).
I remembered this particular smut mag mentioned that Janet and this “alleged” lover of hers was virtually “inseparable.” Until I got hooked up with her, and involved with her and this world of hers; I really thought that “Drama” was just another employee of hers. But through talking to her everyday, I’d learn more and more about “Drama-” that if she wasn’t her lover, she was an extremely close friend/confidant.
So I asked her: “So are the two of you in love or do you love her? This, “person” that you slept with?”
She responded: “LoL, she and I, are not like me and you. She and I are like high-school girls, like, that kind of friendship. We are like silly high-school girls together. It’s just that the time was right so, we took advantage of it.”
It was then that I learned for a fact at this point that there was more to “Drama’s” drama…
I really didn’t have much to say after that.
I was looking so fuckin’ stupid. I was hurt and felt stupid for any emotion that I was feeling. I didn’t know if I should be upset or no, or what. All I knew, was that I couldn’t do a damned thing about it-Jack-so getting upset was futile.
I had thought back to our convos when we first started to get to know one another and she’d told me about her one-night-stands with women. Curious, I asked her to tell me “how” does a woman have a one-night stand with another woman. She told me that she wouldn’t reveal the details but that whomever the other party involved was, they would know that it was just a one night stand basically, nothing more or nothing less. With that in mind, and this MAJOR bomb she’d just dropped on me, I had to stop and tell myself once again, “she is “Janet;” the “megastar” with millions of dollars who really IS in more Control than I ever imagined: my computer, my phone, my life, my mind and most of all-my heart.
I was an emotional basket case that day. All I could think about was how if I had I let her come to Cincinnati to see me back that March day, I too would have been just another notch under her belt of one night stands as well. She just happened to have chosen me, who just “happened” to force her to slow her “role,” but still, with all that in mind, I’m just…”Angela,” just another “one” of the many that had been called and chosen few. What could I say?” (Track 6 now, I see.) I could see that everything…and I do mean EVERYTHING…was about her.
That damned Janet, in control like Janet, dammit as if this really was her planet. I sat back in my comfortable black Futon chair and put my Jade CD on and just, listened to “5432 Yo time is Up.”
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