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The evening of this August 12th day when I was in the room, she was already there. I could hardly tell what kind of mood she was in, but she didn’t want me there-at all, I knew that much. The talk of the room was about some legal troubles she was going through with her chef (who, much later-when it finally hit the public); I found out was suing both she and Rene. Gauging from watching their conversation, Rene had definitely called her. It seemed like she was happy that he called her (but you could tell that he didn’t give her too much rhythm). You could tell she was not too happy that he didn’t call her to reminisce or talk about old times (while talking about the sole reason why he called). It was like…you could tell that he played her “strictly business” like: “I’m only calling you because we both have a vested interest in this, so let’s sort this out, gather a plan and keep it movin.’ ”
In hindsight, I totally know how that went (it wouldn’t be until years later, that I would totally understand). You won’t feel this way until (years later) that you’ve had the pleasure, (and the displeasure) of knowing, having loved, and being the recipient of Janet’s love and countless pleasure principles. She’s the type of girl that no matter how fun, sexy, lovable, sweet, attentive, adoring, and ravishing in you she can be; once you get away from her-you will run…far-far away. And if you ever have to meet up with or run into her again (for whatever reason) you have to consciously keep a shield up to get through the business (not pleasure) at hand with her (in order to keep from getting caught back up into her clinches). Trust me, at this particular moment in time, it hadn’t been quite a year that I had been involved with her and wanted to run “far-far away” many times, so I know that he knew her moves and how to maneuver around her-considering the fact that it had thirteen for him.
It’s a shame that you have to do her like that because she is awesome to know and to love. And you know how to feel good with her (if she really wants you)-she’s a master at encompassing that. But despite her fun, sexiness, being lovable, her sweetness, her attentiveness, her adoration of you, and her being so ravishingly into you AND TOO, despite her money, her fame, her beauty or her good lovin’; her “bad” is twice as bad, no…three times as bad (like no one I ever knew). Her brand of “crazy” is not worth the roll in the hay or getting tangled up in a relationship with her. Tangles are all she really has to offer and she is her very own velvet rope. No matter how transparent or unraveled you are for her, she will tangle that, encompass her own tangled ways on top of it, and constantly give you tangles. She had no healthy, balanced or safe medium in which her “good” would bring you back to her, because her “bad” was tilted like the end results of the Titanic-that’s how strong her “bad” is…That’s the only thing that will make you run “far-far away” from her and I say that even more so now (on this very 2013 date).
She’s the type of girl that can do a number on you so badly that hearing her name could put you in a trance-like a hypnotic slumber where your chin falls to your chest and you’re knocked out having fallen asleep on queue. You’re tired out in the few seconds and four syllables it took to sound out her first + last name. Her “way” can be like fingers snapping, and she wants to be there with her fingers on the controls; being able to predict your every thought, action, reaction-at all times (by which too, she will be control of provoking-unnaturally). Every good and bad thing while dealing with her is controlled by her. That’s impossible-to have a need to do-yet, expect any normalcy (she does not understand that). But she has done it so long that there’s no way she can not do what she does-because that's how she is. That’s how she “loves.” It’s apart of her now just as sure as all ten of her fingers are apart of her hands. She has one literal hell of a unique personality like no one you’ve ever met. Her bad is the motherfucking Anti-Christ-like the devil’s seed, the apple in the Garden of Eden + the snake.
Yet her other face, the delicate one that she puts on for the public (the one that’s she’s painted for soooo long) can be compared to the “good” her. When you know Janet and are loved by Janet, on the outside looking in (to her other dealings with people) whether it’s a guy or girl who acts on that torch [that you will always have for her]…you (knowing her), you automatically know that she did not like that guy or girl very much (in that deep, intense, intimate way). Because if she does (or did) like them in that way; with that same torch, you know they would run “far-far away” from her to keep from getting caught back up into her clinches, because she’s hurtful and she can damage you, she’s damaged goods herself-eternally. Her “good” is a smooth sailing ride, and her fire for you can burn like forever while she shares and shares her good with you. BUT, when she’s “bad,” her fire can burn you alive and that smooth ride turns heavy, it tilts, and it will sink you like the Titanic. When you know her and she’s “loved” you (that oh-so damaging way which too, is the only way she knows), you really don’t give a damn who she’s with or loves after you, you’re just happy it’s not you anymore.
At the beginning of this whole situation-those infamous “first 13 pages,” (when Rene and Janet were still together and Janet was flirting and getting at me, but then spazzed out on me after learning that I met and talked to him), I was so naïve and green in understanding her, this, and it all. Then next thing you know, it hit the news that he was history in her life. Later, the real true proof of that being so came to me from Janet herself (and buddies). At first I said: “Please I know that little chance meeting of mine with him did not cause a thirteen-year relationship to breakup. My dealings with him weren’t even enough to be a straw in breaking a camel’s back.” But it wouldn’t be until years later of dealing with her myself, that Janet is so “too much” that all you need is that one out-way from her ass and you will gladly leave, you would gladly hit the door running “far-far” away from her. That’s what happened. It didn’t have anything to do with me (per se) but everything to do with her-how she’ll make you run “far-far away” from her. Any prop or convenience can serve as a catalyst or straw breaking a camel’s back, all you want to do is ride out on the back of that bitch; far-far away from her. And that’s what the hell he did. He sat back and watched all that shit we were doing and mapped his plan of escape, and just threw me in the bag (then under the bus).
One of the (typcial) things about two people in a normal functioning relationship (no matter how bad the breakup was), is that one or both persons get that luxury of their ex being jealous about who steps up to bat in their life next. Janet’s “bad” is so abnormally bad that regardless of her money, her fame, her beauty, her good lovin’, her fun, her sexiness, her being lovable, her sweetness, her attentiveness, her adoration of you, and her being so ravishingly into her new love after you-you won’t even care.
From knowing her, you already know that no matter how much love, attention, cooperation, lovin,’ and adoration that person gives to her or what that new person’s attributes and qualities are, after a while; she won’t even recognize any of it. She’s a life-absorber. She will suck your life, your joy, your happiness, your love for her, your cooperation, and all your tries--right through a straw, ride you like a camel and break your back. All good things about you that made her love you, she (if she “loves” you) she will eventually overpower it, crush it, and ruin it and you with the strength of her bad to the point that you won’t give two shits who she’s with after you-as long as it aint you. I know her-how she is and how she moves. And I can only imagine that Rene (having known and been with her much longer) knows these same things about her tenfold. If I can conclude this never even so much as lived with her, not only could he second these emotions, I know the shit he could add to what I’ve experienced and concluded is probably minor (in comparison). She’s a hum fucking dinger.
Because of how she is, Janet did, and will continue to miss out on a lot in life, and a lot of things about love and being loved [well over the price she has to pay for being loved by a bunch of strangers for only being famous]. She will miss out on real love because of her fame and “good face.” Stranger love from merely seeing you on television and the stage is different; they don’t know you-so it’s not real love. As well, she will always miss out on real love in her personal life (during and post-love) because of how she is.
During love: You want to run “far-far away” from her. Her singing: “Run Away With Me My Love, Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” for you, becomes more like: “Running away from you my love.” Her singing: “Let me take you on an escapade, let’s go!” will not be that joyful and whimsical. The only thing you’ll see in the word “Escapade” is “escape.”
Post-love: You consciously make an effort and block her “good face,” to avoid her smile and her sweetness (to avoid getting caught back up with her).
Janet didn’t with him-Rene, and won’t (with anyone else), ever get that luxury of that old flame bumping into her and those feelings popping up (whether acted on or merely talked about in friendly and sweet conversation). Her being a woman, that feeling and bricks built on a girl’s self-esteem in knowing that we can have our exes back with one phone call, or at bare minimum-make them smile and be happy for the day from just seeing or hearing from us is something she will never experience. And it’s all because of how she is. How she is will never change-she can’t be cured of herself, and Rene showed her proof of that when he called…
“Guess who called?” she asked. “...I’ll tell you later” she finished (before her buddy that she was talking to could ask: “who?”). She knew she had never not wanted me there, but this time she did not [want me there]. She wanted me gone but couldn’t figure out a way to say what she wanted to say to them really quick without my catching on (because she knew I would of course). And by the same token (considering how I was with her at this particular moment in time), she knew that asking me to leave would probably make me start playing passive-aggressive games with her during all the other times that she did want me there. In her mind, she knew that [this first and only time] making me leave would probably start making me purposely excuse myself mid-conversation with her (just to piss her off). We played tug of war power games like that and we knew just what to do to piss one another off. Just like we had the perfect formulas to arouse one another, as well; we knew just what to do and brew to piss one another off. We could be like two evil or good twins who had the same Wonder-Twin-like powers and could use them against one another at any time. I knew how she was and she knew how I was-simple and contrary as that.
She tried to talk around it as much as she could, but when it came to Rene, no matter how much she called herself loving me; she didn’t see me as that girl that she loved-she saw me as that bitch that met, talked to, and whatever else, with her man. She’s irrational like that and could give two shits that I knew or felt that from her (when it came to that damned Rene).
They were also subliminally talking about something legal that had to do with her sister-in-law whom she mentioned using initials “DRJ” or “DHJ” or something like that. While she kept trying to talk to them in codes, it was like she would stop and look at me with that one side-eye look you would give to somebody who should automatically excuse themselves from your presence. She was in some mood I couldn’t quite explain, but she wasn’t feeling me right now, I could certainly tell that much. But I wanted to make her say it.
She and her buddy tried to talk around me as best as they could, then she finally turned to me, rolled her eyes and said: “Alright Cinamon you’re dismissed,” making it clear that this time she really was dismissing me. She wanted me out of the room-stat! Never in the history of this thing had she ever told me to leave-ever, so I knew this was something serious (pertaining to her). “Ok then, TTYL.” I replied.
I walked out of the room looking pretty stupid while one of their silly asses posted the nickname: “UNINVITED.” They were so on-cue (and funny sometimes), I had to laugh at that one myself-the stupid look on my face was priceless.
When I came back in late that evening, someone came down under the nickname: “Landlord” and said: “Doesn’t somebody in here owe me money?” I took a deep sigh and rolled my eyes in my head-knowing all too well that a fight was about to start, because for me, that was a cheap (but true-to-life) real shot: True to my life at that very moment in time. That same day, they “overhead” my landlord put in a call to me “wondering when he was going to get his money” (that was now invested in a laptop computer that I had to buy so that when I began to delve into writing, hopefully, do it in some peace from them). I sat there fighting hard with myself-trying to figure out if I should just keep my mouth shut or if I should get it crackin’ and set it off up in there. You see…stuff like that would make me happy that she eventually got a chance to get a taste of what “overhearing” (things that wasn’t any of her business) was like.
So...in fast-forwarding to September 2000 for a second (the 18th of September to be exact) this time, the tables were turned on her.
Denise and Anaya had the nerve to wait until we got good and grown to have a high-school girl like fallout; they were both still my homies-but they hated each other after Denise moved to New York and they became roomies. I hated that. They both have very strong personalities and hearing both versions of the story would leave me speechless. Although all the three of us were besties and keepers of countless secrets between us, their personalities were such that not even I could say anything to either of them in an effort to mediate. They were the type of personalities that if either had any conversing to do they would do it themselves-which by my listening and weighing the situation and versions; was next to never. So I left it alone. My loyalty to both was always such that both knew they could trust me, so for years, we all remained friends-separately.
Anaya switched gears: some tough-talk now. Janet sure as hell was in for a big surprise: “overhearing” the G’s on herself-something she never in a million years would have thought would come through the lines of my telephone-totally unplanned, unrehearsed, and unexpected. Anaya proceeded to compliment Janet with words of endearment such as all kinds of “fierceness” and “Miss Thing’s” but at the same time dissed her about feeling the need to monitor my conversations. She then began to lay into the phone horn; private details about Janet that I dare not repeat. They were strictly and specifically about her and had nothing to do with any anyone else or any details having to do with our story however, they weren’t the most flattering of details.
As if that wasn’t enough, Anaya had more to tell me-and she couldn’t wait to tell it to me too. I listened to her slurp words, trying to refrain from telling me over the phone some things that she had no doubt in her mind was indeed being listened to by Janet, but felt I should know. But that’s what Janet got for dipping. This was our usual. Little did Janet know, Anaya wasn’t a big-mouthed girl, we often talked and got caught up on the G’s of her industry and theater life about details that she knew would travel no further than me and my phone, regardless. Janet did not enjoy hearing what she too, heard through the phone-knowing that Anaya had quite a few other things she was itching to tell me (about her). Getting home couldn’t get here soon enough for Anaya (and of course, me either).
Times like this would be almost like that Total Request Live incident with Carson where that “Angela” girl’s name caught Janet by surprise by making her react (which made me laugh). Because it was like some good omen was looking out for me by sending Janet a jolt that I needed in this situation, making me feel like I scored-like I gained some ground in this thing where in the bigger scheme of things, I had no control at all (until much later).
It reminded me of the movie “Ghost” were no matter what bullshit the friend was doing, or how much he stood to gain from his evil deeds, still, he had jolts and nudges from Patrick Swayze’s ghost always there to haunt and remind him that the reality of all that was going on in this situation may not been by other people (in our case: my friends, my family and the public); but the fact of the matter was…it…(“it” being: me-on the shorter/receiving end of the stick of all the tricks that Janet’s money’s resources were affording) “it” lived…(“lived” being: me getting life breathed into me because of her getting those bad omen nudges and me getting good omen nudges letting me know that some power bigger than hers and mine was guiding and working with me and on my powerless side).
Anaya was gigging hard for a good stretch of time. She had been overseas, to California to New York to California and back to New York—gigging. If this was 2000, I probably hadn’t heard from Anaya (by telephone) since ‘96 when she last came home. We stayed current via post card and letters, she didn’t come home (to our town as much)-her “home” was in New York. Anaya’s calling me and coming home (to our town) this time around was some “by-design” rare irony-like a ghost chance of a happening. And it was these “ghost-like” times (like that TRL/Carson/”Angela” incident that sent that jolt to Janet), that would happen to further remind me that I wasn’t crazy and that I had an unseen ally in this thing-wanting me to just hold on…be patient, because I had a lot of lessons to learn in this (about my friends, my family, and the world/public) that this higher force of power needed me to know but refused to just lay it in my lap so easily. It’s like throughout this, I was being spiritually groomed to go through a hard and hurtful kind of fire that eventually, she-Janet was going to have to stand in—and in the end/at climax (well…the conclusion), I would be standing there witnessing and watching while she got her lesson too: to teach other people like her (with money, “worldly power,” fame, and resources) that when the smoke clears—at the end of the years; your money, fame, influence, and “worldly power” aint shit, when bigger hands are overseeing all that was being “overheard,” overseeing all other evil deeds that made me feel so oppressed and stressed-for years and was indeed going to assist me in getting it dealt with-one way or another. It just wanted me to be patient-keep my heart and eyes open, mind clear-and I did.
When I got off the phone with Anaya my rule that I adhered to all this time: (never discuss what Janet “overheard” even if it concerned her on my behalf) had to go out the window (for this moment right here). This time, I was more than willing to talk to Janet about what she had just heard (because it was about her). Janet did not appreciate having things being told to me from a source closer to her world than anyone in my world could never deliver, and she knew every word was true. She was sitting in I.M boiling mad. Obviously she didn’t care to explain to me what she overheard, nor did she make it comfortable for me to ask her to elaborate either. Just to be sure I wouldn’t get the nerve to ask her, she took our talk to a third-person conversation where we were going back and forth like a game of tennis-nothing much, small talk and my listening to her telling me “your girl is pissed right about now,” (talking about herself). The back and forth small-talk ended with her stating (clearly and in first person): “I should be hearing back from you on some things after the weekend shouldn’t I?” (“After the weekend” was when Anaya would be home). Throughout this whole conversation, that was the only first-person thing she said, and I merely replied: “Yes.” But I wasn’t going to tell her shit that Anaya had to tell me. My plans were to play Janet just like Anaya ended up (really) playing me when she got home.
September 23rd/24th when Anaya got home, she was mum like she had never said a word to me about Janet. Her lips were sealed-tight! She was so mum that she turned very uninviting and dry to me-as if she was working hard to make me feel uncomfortable to ask her to tell me [what she was dying to tell me over the telephone]. The visit was odd and definitely unusual. Anaya was a loud wild-child and in all my years of knowing her, I couldn’t even think of the last time she had been this subdued and quiet. The desire to tell me what she had to tell me had totally gone away. She damned near treated me like I was at her mom’s house wearing a wire. She got here and shut completely down.
When I got home, Janet was already waiting for me in I.M. She already knew when I left to go visit Anaya and knowing her, she patiently sat her butt right there awaiting my return. As soon as I logged on, she bomb-rushed me with one question: “So now what?”
I replied: “Nothing, nothing at all as a matter of fact…” I expressed-just like that.
She got quiet for a second then she replied back with two words: “popular whore...”
I knew then, that Janet must’ve gone dumpster diving on Anaya and in addition to that, must’ve somehow gotten word to some other dancers that got to Anaya.
It wouldn’t be until mid-October,
Embarrassing and personal information was being fed to me about her from a reliable source who too, was one of my (then) besties in the industry: Anaya-a theatre brat, singer/actor/dancer, and Broadway dancer who lived in L.A and New York City. (She was 1/3 of my “Three Amigos” between myself and Denise). Anaya called me one evening after coming off tour. We were sitting on the phone chopping it up-all the juicy details about her excursions, experiences, and industry gossip. She was talking a mile a minute-I could hardly get in a word edgewise. We hadn’t talked in quite a few months-almost a year-so she had countless cities, countries, states, and hookups to catch me up on. That’s been my homegirl since first grade, so obviously when we dish-we dish. But I had to interrupt her, I had to, it was getting to deep. And if the shoe was other the foot I could only hope she’d do the same for me. When we got to the part where I told her my phone was tapped and by whom, she (without a doubt) never questioned it, nor did she act all that surprised. She was already “Janet-briefed” and “Janet ready”-nothing thus far in the conversation seemed surprising to her. We began to laugh about how Janet being at me was seemingly “fitting,” and how as well, so said Denise (who too, was a mutual friend of mine and Anaya’s).
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