By this time, my computer was up and running, so I entered the room.

Her buddies were carrying on a conversation that they did a really good job of trying to make me not understand the contents of. It was very crafty this time. They stepped their inside-convo game way up (in that one moment) I guess to show me that if ever they needed to take it to that level, they could. And well, if they (especially Janet) wanted to be brazen and wanted me to know something or get it poppin’; they made sure they made it obvious-like in their next conversation they started, it had something to do with Rene (yet, again).

They did the usual: make a nickname up of something specific, this one dropped down like such: *drumroll*... “{Welcome New User}: July24”--the date that I met Rene, however, they kept it cryptic by setting up a staged conversation with a purpose: To make me jealous. It was weird because I didn’t know if this little performance was done to make me jealous because of Jan (considering the fact that she knew I was loving her during this very moment in time), or if because she was back to that female rival-minded mindset--this was done to make me jealous (just in case I ever said or done anything with him...that she felt like I was keeping from her). 

Janet (hidden behind her “Jiggs” nickname), was in the room with them talking about the sexual sounds that [Janet] would make in her songs were the real thing because Rene would be doing things to her to make those sounds. She continued with: “You know what they say about those soft-spoken women, you know they are screamers…” said Jiggs.

I just looked at them all with my brow up, wondering what the hell was really going on. They were going wayyyy out of their way to talk about sexual details of Janet’s relationship with Rene, as if I was some girl standing there who had once upon a time, slept with him too, but “just for [my] information” this was how their fucks went down. It was odd, but I continued to watch the show.

Being in possession of my first 13 pages seemed to put a different spin on her curiosity about my being truthful about the contents of Rene and my conversation when he sat down to talk to me. Instead of knowing all that happened to put her curiosity to rest (like I was happy and hoped it would); it seemed to magnify her thoughts (or magnify the mind-fuckery that Rene bailed out on her with). I watched them in amazement, because from my point of view and looking at this-this was all way overboard. But from her side looking onto it, it seemed to me that she was merely making me the reason for the drastic decision [she made? or he made?] that uprooted and forfeited over 13 years of a relationship.

Watching them carry on, this day really made me wonder just why Rene was out of the picture. I mean, now that I knew Janet the person, I thought maybe perhaps he set the whole thing up to make her upset at me so that maybe he could pull out. I don’t know. Because truthfully, I sure as hell couldn’t see how anybody could put up with her in a relationship for that long. She’s way too much, and has way too many resources to do things that normal people in a normal relationship would have build. You can’t build anything “normal” and good with somebody who has the means to completely carve out the: “having to trust somebody” part of the relationship. There’s no experience like somebody who has the means to oversee everything and question you about it everyday, and if not-bring a reaction to you that you simply won’t understand-all because of something they had no natural business knowing, yet, (of the two of you) they are the only one in the know about why they are feeling a particular way about why they are bring certain reactions to you. It’s a weird experience.

I say that maybe it was he who wanted out, shit because early into this while in the room, (after my asking him if he remembered meeting me and I joked with him about how often was it that he met a girl whose pen ink exploded in his hand), he did crack the joke: “So Cin, tell me what you look like,” then I laughed and posted something to the effect like: “Ah hush Rene, I’m not going to describe myself. You know what I look like-you’re just trying to make Janet jealous! LoL.” He got a kick out of that and laughed too. My now knowing Janet and her people (unlike then-I didn’t), although it was a joke, a comment like that is a federal offense in her world. Now that I know her and how she is, I figured maybe (in the beginning of all this) he was lurking for a while and watched what transpired between myself and Janet while she hid behind the nickname: QUEENJANET, and he masterminded some way to pull out from there (knowing that he could make her jealous).

Or maybe something did happen that July day that I met him (with someone else) and it just so happened that it seemed like that someone else was me. It could have been that maybe he conjured up a story, about something that happened that night to make her know that he too, is desirable-after all she is “Janet” and he was just (a.k.a) her “boyfriend.”Although they had a relationship, she was free to do what she wanted to do (so I’ve experienced)-and she does just that: what she wants. Or shit, knowing her (now-and where we are now) maybe she simply got upset because he met me first, stood next to me first, talked to me first, and all that. I mean my knowing how unreasonable, possessive and irrational she can be, it could be one or all of these reasons. Who knows? But considering the fact that Rob+Rene never came back to the room at the same time, my best guess was that her digerati caught the two of them plotting, planning and having “boy talk” and that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for she and Rene. But now (with 13 pages in her hand and details that she didn’t know) she had a kind of clarity that opened up a whole other can of worms that (from my point of view) was “nothing,” but to her, it was obviously “something.” Whichever version, she believes his story and/or what she caught him doing or saying...and she’s sticking to that.  

So after their performance, when I got to school I wrote her.

Date: Wed, 28 Jul  09:00am PDT

From: xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net

To: EsCaPaDxxxxx@aol.com

Subject: …

Just wanted to say hi to you amongst other things but I’m sure u can read my mind... You know what my norm would be to do right now…but I’m not going to even go there with you today. Funny how I just told you just the other day how every other day it is always something with you… I just figure one day you’ll know for sure that everything you read… was the truth….and all that I’ve ever said to you was true and from my heart. Maybe you’ll be able to look back on all these things occurring and you’ll find that they were such a waste of time. Hopefully that day you come to that realization is near…

After I sent the email, on my computer’s desktop; I renamed my Netscape Communicator desktop icon: “Communicate with my Boo” in place of what she had changed it to [that one day when she wanted to show that me she could remotely make changes to my computer from wherever she was--that day when she changed the icon to both of our ages].

So (with my changing it) instead of it being named [our ages] the desktop icon now read: “Communicate with My Boo.” I also renamed my Instant Messenger desktop icon: “Talk to my Boo.” I was really feeling a little warm and fuzzy after I sent her that email-it was straight from the heart. I really tried with Janet. I really tried, sincerely. But she wasn’t feeling me as a girlfriend at this moment in time, she saw me as a rival. She flipped on me.

She turned things up.  

Later that afternoon, I entered the room and spoke to a few people. The mood was kind of weird however. I just sat there and stared at everyone, and did my usual: small talked with a few people who made small talk with me. Then all of a sudden, the nickname: “BOO” came down and wrote: “HISS! HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS” (repeatedly-like nonstop).

At first, it took me a while to catch on, but then I remembered I had renamed my desktop icons “Talk to my Boo” and Communicate with my Boo.”

“BOO,” continued to hiss.

“Oh she’s the cat again,” I said to myself. Only this time she was hissing at me.  

I watched it until I couldn’t watch any more. My feelings were so crushed because I was sincere in the email I sent, and hadn’t gotten a response from her as yet. Then I came to the room only to have my feelings (once again) shitted on. I felt so stupid for even writing her that letter. I felt like I had walked in on some practical joke and a big bowl of mush had fallen down over my head while I just stood there, getting laughed and pointed at.

I couldn’t believe her-every other day it was always something. 

The way she was acting with this “HISS” stuff reminded me of how she would tell me how when she was a kid-she would go to the end of the large gate of their Encino home and swear at the groupies who would gather around in hopes to get a glimpse of Michael and her famous brothers.

I remember (clearly) the day she was telling me about it. She was acting like the same mischievous catty little bitch-the way she was HISSing at me at this moment in time. I could just see her as a kid doing that too: running from one end of the gate to the other, squinting her mean, dark, slanted, cat eyes and curling her fingers in a way to look like she was scratching and jumping at them as if she really was a cat (protected by that large gate, guards and bodyguards of course)… 

This cat “character” really became her. She really was getting carried away with it too. She loved it-probably why she made a song of the same name-“Black Cat” (about her ex hubby James Debarge) but little did she know; she wore the lyrics herself, too. [She] was “so together, but just at a glance. [She] would do anything if given a chance” (too)…just like the black cat in the song. She never ceased to amaze me.

Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat… 

I stayed away for the rest of the day feeling so many ways to stupid. Janet wasn’t feeling that last email I sent at all. For the very first time in the history of this entire ordeal, I was really feeling like that “pretty girl” [who the boyfriend of another pretty girl] wanted.

Janet’s antagonizing me and purposely trying to hurt me was different this time. She never treated me like she did this day.    

Throughout this thing, yes, a few times (in the room and in our private I.M) she would bring things up about Rene as if she was trying to “pick” me-get me to say something or respond, and of course I never did. But she wasn’t treating me like some jealous girl. Now she has 13 pages in her hand. And all this time she never knew my side of what transpired between he and I outside the backstage gates, and outside of what she assumed but most probably “overheard” him telling Rob (which obviously was the last straw that caused the breakup)...  

Janet had done many antagonizing flip-floppy kinds of things to me throughout this, but this time, she had the missing link in her hand. Considering how she was treating me, I could tell that with the information now in her hands; it jarred a lot of recollection about what he was doing (and not doing) backstage with her, when he was outside sitting on the bench in conversation with me (at a time when she would soon be going on stage and he most probably should have been back there with her).

I’m abnormally, extraordinarily “intuitive-sensitive” and “feeling” in a way so strong that even by way of my never having seen her face-to-face thus far (in the story), I uncovered her and this thing this far (in the story). So when it comes to her (especially as it pertains to me) I know what I’m talking about.

I could tell that she specifically remembered him having hands covered in ink when he came to the backstage to wash it off…there’s no telling what kind of lie he told her in order to get back outside to talk to me (as he promised). So when she retrieved my first 13 pages, she knew how to put the pieces together because what was said and done (in between her recollecting every detail that I wrote in the 13 pages)…she knew (more than I did)-what it was he did (frolic outdoors with me), and what it was he did not do (tend to his duties with her-backstage-before she went on).

From what she now has in her hands as fact, she [now knows] how he got missing from backstage, why, for whom, and (in her mind) who he got missing again for as she got ready to go out onstage. 

That, compounded with the fact that since I was a fan of hers-there to see her-she probably couldn’t entertain the thought of why was it that I didn’t ask him to meet her when I had the one person of all people [who could even by-pass security] and could take me backstage to meet her.

As well, she obviously “overheard” Rene saying, emailing, or private Instant Messaging with Rob [most probably pertaining to me talking about it] from a man-to-man’s point of view and recollection…and that’s what sent Janet (with Shawn in tow) came storming at me in front of her own fans the way she did on that January 21 morning.    

My knowing Janet and her irrational and extreme jealous ways, she knows that if I was that same “pretty girl” that was flirting with her in the corner-stage left (who she winked her eye at and thought “was the bomb”), then her mind probably went crazy knowing that her man actually sat outside and was frolicking with that same girl (who he most probably lied to Janet for, after washing the ink off his hands) in order to get back outside to that same girl who he was conversing with.

A lot of thinking and piecing together but I know Janet and how she thinks.

And too, I think in four corners-especially with people and situations.

Where the average person may call someone like me an “over thinker,” it’s natural for me-I merely “think” (in those four corners where the average person either thinks in two of the four corners), or just at the dot in the center-only. For someone like me, two corners or a dot in the center is under thinking. And with situations and people, it may not always be bigger than that, but situations and people are sometimes complex; therefore they do require a little more thought than the average person will consider (but not me). And it’s always served me (in being fair and trying to consider everybody’s side and point of view). So I understood hers, but she didn’t want to care or receive my understanding that. And that was hurtful to me. At this moment in time, in her mind: “She fucked my man” or “My man was trying to fuck her, and that bitch had the nerve to be up in my room cracking inside jokes with him and I was over there trying to get with her myself.”  

Janet got those missing pieces, began hissing and turned things up...

For me, I was in was in a very bad place at this point of this thing with her because she knew soooo much about me like: how I liked to have sex, oral sex, positions, my sexual way, my sensual way, my feelings, my personality, what moved me, just-everything…everything that in a normal circumstance, that “other pretty girl” is not supposed to know. Yet here it was-that “other pretty girl” was the one who had me in all those ways (but at the time—had not had those 13 pages in her hand as yet). Thirteen pages that now, fucked with her twisted mind such that, one part of her lusted and loved me madly, now (with the missing links connected and the mystery removed), it all began to play tricks on her head. At this point, she didn’t want to receive me like before and this all gave her a reason to churn this whole entire thing up twice over what she had done thus far…and I mean it was ON...

We went AT it:

After feeling stupid at her hissing at me after that email I sent her, that next day (in the afternoon) when I checked my snail mail box (at the post office), I had gotten a cute little Kangol styled fisherman’s hat from my one of my besties: Kim (it was leopard print ironically-tan and brown). Kim liked to stop by the Swap meet and pick up cute things for me to send in my care packages. She got a kick out of the fact that the Swap Meet was an L.A staple-she loved herself some California.

It was such a pleasant surprise because I wasn’t expecting it.

When I got home, I called her immediately to tell her how much I loved the hat and that I was shocked at how great it looked on me (because I’ve never been a hat person). We were laughing and joking around-happy to talk to each other (as usual). I was telling her about how I was in the mirror trying it on at that moment, and how I had put it down to my brow so that you could barely see my eyes. We laughed because she told me that was what she did when she put hers on too.

When I got off the phone, I took a deep breath, because I knew that damned Janet had “overheard” every single word and was probably going to have an attitude the next time I talked to her (fuck the attitude I should have at being hissed at—with Janet, that did not matter to her-whatever she did-that’s how she was).

Even without this happening, it would make her soooooo jealous to hear me give any joy, laughter or time to anybody else outside of her. That would make her bazooka crazy, which was why I hated for my friends to call me on the phone and I preferred them to ride by. Sometimes when they would call, I would purposely drag my voice in an almost standoffish kind of way just so I could tweak any excitement that Janet could pick up and get jealous over. I learned how to keep my enthusiasm and tone of voice at a certain robotic-like decibel. It was that serious. I would feel so bad when they called me with too much excitement and I couldn’t greet them back with the same enthusiasm, but they could not image how much drama in my life that would cause me with Janet. It was hard with her, but with them-I could explain later-not to her though.

When I went into the room, sure enough, she was bad-real bad: Michael Jackson.

She was mad, real mad: Joe Jackson.

She had a major attitude with me and couldn’t even hide it (nor did she try to).

Before knowing her, I used to be so fooled by her (public) sweet smile and gentle ways-all that. But as I had been in this thing with this girl, this little bitch was a tyrant and Tasmanian devil-a total bully. Every sweet and “gentle” way about her, even down to the way she pronounced the words she speaks, I learned was all by design. She was a master at the fuckery of public persona and imagery. That little bitch bites-hard. She wore me out. Her persistence is unmatched.

She turned things up.

We were logged into the room, and off to the side in I.M as well.

This panther set me up to move in for the kill:

She told me she was having a terrible time trying to do something with her hair and asked me if I had any suggestions. (She only said that to set up a fight between us. I knew that was her sneaky lil’ cue for me to say: “just put on a hat.”)  Fuck her, I did it: “Just do like I do, pull it up in a pony tail or pull it back and pull a few strands out, OR you can just throw a hat on. My friend sent me a hat that I’m going to wear on my next bad hair day. Man I love it! It’s sooo cute.”

She simply responded: “Oh.”

She was sooo jealous.

We didn’t say anything else to one another for a while-a long while too. That tyrant could outwait and out-persist any thing or any body. She was Spanish-bull stubborn.

I eventually turned my attention away from her.

I turned things up.

In my virtual world, I looked over to my left at Madonna’s “Beautiful Stranger” video and I posted to her:

“My video is on-heeeeyyy *doing the snake*”

(I started literally started doing the “snake,” back and forth, as if she was really around me-she was getting pissed. “Hiss at that, bitch!” I said aloud-looking at the screen).

“What?” she asked.

“BEAUTIFUL  STRANGER,” I yelled then sang (and posted to her):

“Haven’t you heard/I fell in love with a beautiful stranger/You could be good for me/I have the taste danger/If I’m smart then I’ll run away. But I’m not so I guess I’ll stay/Haven’t you heard, I took my chance on a beautiful stranger/I looked into your eyes and my world start tumbling down/You’re the devil in disguise, that’s why I’m singing this song/To know you, is to love you/To love you, is to be part of you/You’re everywhere I go and everybody knows/I pay for you in tears/I swallowed all my pride..And pay for you in tears…Dada da da da  da da da da da-Beautiful Stranger.”

…typically those lyrics would have reached her-she knew that we both could relate to every single lyric (which was why I posted the song’s bridge and chorus). But instead of receiving it, she’s such a tyrant-all she wanted to do was fight me.  

“Oh. Never seen it,” she replied.

I shook my head at this video junkie who was in the room when one of her employees and me had talked about the video a few days prior where I mentioned how Madonna was freaking Michael Myers while he was driving. She put her butt on his shoulder and she started twerking on him.

It was hilarious.

If Janet hadn’t seen it then, she damned sure saw it by this time-especially knowing that I liked it so much. (But I forgot that she wasn’t that fond of Madonna, so I chopped it up to her just being her same ole’ mean self again; jealous and hating to have any possession of hers give any attention whatsoever to anything else). She was already (still) jealous about Kim and the cat-printed hat…  

Her turn (this little bitch):

“Yeah Cin, I think I’m going to get my brow pierced,” trying to make me jealous because her troublemaking ass friend [slash] lover (Shawn) has hers pierced.

I responded (cynically):

“Yeah? I never understood those things. Why one would pierce their eyebrow? I thought it was because of something you do sexually with it, sort of like how you can bat your lashes onto someone to tickle them. I always thought that’s what they were for-batting the brow instead. I can deal with the little flat barbell thingy but not an actual earring hanging from my eye…Something about that just does not compute with me.” I then giggled (to myself-pissing her ass off).

Smirking, I shrugged my shoulders with my lips tight, imagining the anger on she and Shawn’s troublemaking ass face over there saying, “Oooh I can’t STAND her!”

I turned things up higher.

The next video was Mary’s “All That I Could Say.”

We were both commenting on it.

Then I posted:

“Did you hear Mary say my name baby? *singing* ‘Sweeter than CINNAMON.’ “

A few minutes later, some wild comment came through the room:

“THE BLACKER THE BERRY THE SWEETER THE JUICE!”

I knew that was Shawn hiding behind the name.

Laughing, I replied:

“It’s not sweeter than the taste of Cinamon though,” I purposely spelled it with one ‘n’-my nickname. 

The next thing I know, I got disconnected from my computer-they rebooted me.

She turned things up even higher.

When I logged got back in, I didn’t say anything or ask why I was disconnected, nor did Janet apologize this time. We both just sat there watching conversation in the room.

This rebel started again: 

“Oh it’s so

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