riding, riding, swerving, swerving....

ok, so it's been a minute. and in that minute here's what has occured...

i turned 22. conciderably unevetfully, despite my best efforts. seems jabre was right.- "no one cares after 21." (ok, pity party is a little too crunk) honestly i had a great time. i went to gladys night's chicken and waffles with kesi, although i had planned on more people being there. turns out all my friends are broke. but jabre and another friend kyle and us went to the bar near my job and played pool. and i kicked ass. won every game i played, though i was a tad tipsy. i did look cute doing it, naturally.

after we left the bar a homeless man proceeded to talk to kesi for a good five minutes NONSTOP, until i had to cut him off and tell kesi to roll up the car window. i mean, he already had all the money we could spare, but he just kept talking...after that i really didnt want to hear anyone talking.

after that was valentines day, a day that i think is a waste of time. every year that i have worked in retail, i see people come in to wherever it is that i work and rush last minute to show their love for whomever. but if you feel obligated, then it really isnt sincere, is it? and why do you do it? because its valentines day and thats what you are supposed to do, not because you actually love them (whether you do or not isnt the point). i didnt get anything from kesi. honestly all i wanted were some hotwings and to cuddle. i didnt get either for circumstantial reasons, but my friend who is a cook made all the girls at work chocolate covered strawberries. really sweet, and he didnt have to do it. he's not dating any of us. proves my point. i also got two boxes of mini reeses from my manager because i had mentioned that i was gonna try to pick up some on-sale valentines candy the next day, and she happened to have my favorite in her office. i shared one box and kept the other for myself.

the rest of the week i worked and worked. i really needed money. still do, but my refund should be coming in a few days. lauren called me on saturday and said she was in town, and where was i? stuck with 25,000 cheerleaders (that is NOT an exagerated number), all who want iced caramel macchiatos. youre 11, what do you need with coffee?

i finally got to see her monday night, after her dear dad decided not to drop her off at my house and my dear boyfriend decided to drive 50 miles to go get her(that boy gets a hero cookie). she also had my birthday gift, but if i had known she was coming, i would have told her to save the money and bring herself to ATL. (ok, maybe not- i love my coach wristlet!)

on the drive back we listened to some mixtapes kesi had and lauren heard some new stuff, which she should have heard since our friend Pizo claims to hold it down for the A in DC. one of which was "riding, swerving" featuring Project Pat, who i love...we stayed up til 4AM and ate the last of those valentine reeses, which i was happy to share. she slept on my side of my big bed and took all the covers. i still love her though.

lauren's back in DC now, and i am sad. kind of sad. i will see her in a month, and i'll be done with school for a few months by then. for now we will both be stressed and tired and working and learning and getting older, and forsaking our already late speech outline to type a blog.

what's your secret?

i bought the book "post secret" the other day after hearing ryan cameron rave on about it on the radio. i read it in one night. its basically people writing down secrets they nevertold anyone and mailing them to this guy as an art project. and these are the things i discovered about us as humans:

*we romanticise EVERYTHING, even our darkest secrets. i'm sure if you think about the secret that you never told ANYONE at all, then think of the reason you dont tell, you'd surely imagine your life spiralling into soap operatic status. whether the secret is good or bad.

*we are so alike and in need when it comes to the things we feel and fear.

* clearly people are voyeuristic. the book is a bestseller. i mean, i make no bones about my desire to enjoy other people's life (reality shows anyone?)

and here's something i discovered about myself: i have no secrets. between my closer friends, all of them know everything about me. i think thats good. confide in someone. or a few someones. as long as you didnt murder someone, i'm sure a good friend might not think you are that strange.

right lauren?

while you losers are watching the super bowl... (part 2)

so was everyone else at red lobster. it wasnt pacted, but it wasnt empty as i expected. damn bar tvs...

but dinner was great, and the night was great. we also went to the drive in and saw "big mama's house2." it was so old fashioned! we laid under the blanket i made him a few years back and cuddled. i dont want to share too much because it is something i would just like to preserve in my memory. just everyone be aware that i am more in love today than i was on feb 4.

also, my dear friend, the one who got drunk, called me to wish me a happy birthday. very sweet, but a tad early, yeah?

while you losers are watching the super bowl...

we'll have red lobster all to ourselves. i will indeed not be at work. no matter how they presume to schedule me for this sunday, they can sit on it.

on to the post's purpose. kesi's and my anniversary is sunday. And i want a lobster tail and some blush. so i'm going somewhere classy. ok, i'm going to the place for "seafood lover in me" but that seafood lover is fat and must be satiated.

last night was the anniversary preview. i made fried chicken, (which i havent done in almost a year. it was bangin though) and we watched My Name Is Earl and a documentary on multiple birth families. this may not seem like a fun date to you, but i had a great time. all i wanted to do was make sure my man relaxed, which he did, in many ways, and it culminated in this texting to lauren:

me: i'm trapped. he fell asleep. and his feet smelled. i made him clean them before we did it.
her: Lmao!! hands down the funniest text i've gitten in forever. Ew stinky feet. thats real love.
me: it smelled so bad. apparently he'd gone right to sleep after he got home last night and since he was supposed to take my mom somewhere early this morning he never changed his socks. so it is a result of hard work that he stinks and is asleep.
her: still gross no matter what the explaination. spray him with something. or... cut off his feet.
me: i will not Kunta my man. he'd be really pissed. and then i'd have to wheel him around.
her: but you wouldnt have to deal with his feet. and arent the vows all about in sickness and in health?
me: yeah, A, i'm not married. and B, the vows say nothing about violence and maiming.
her: youre as good as married. and i mean, be original. must you take the same vows as everyone else?:-p
me: love cant survive attempted murder. i'm not a hillbilly.
her: are you sure? if anyone could its you two.
me: i know. we're so strong. he moved! i'm free! he was sweating too. i cant win...
her: eww youve officially shared too much w/me. so really what youre telling me is that you smell like a sweaty sex foot. niiiice.
me: this is an indeed accurate description of the woman you read before you. and i had chicken, if you wanna add that in. but above all, i'm satisfied.
her: must you taint the chicken that way? yuck.

one of the funniest convos we've had in a while. after we finished texting, i watched him sleep and ultimately cried, which always happens around this time of year. he just looked so peaceful- like a baby. i told him later how lucky i was to be the only one who gets to love him like i do. i really am. despite his stinky feet.

lost in translation

I'm like a southern immigrant. I've lived in atlanta for ten years, and culturally, things dont really click for me. I realized it this week especially, when corretta scott king died. I was like, ok, god rest her soul, move on. I didnt know her or anything. But there was tv and radio coverage ALL DAY, at the king center where people came from all over to bring flowers and pay respects. People at my job wanted to go to the funeral. And i really didnt understand it. Still kind of dont.

In my mind all i can think is that its another southern thing that i dont get because northerners would only do something like that- paying respects to a symbol of this ongoing fight- just to say they did it. To yell out, "i was there too!" And i'm totally fighting that urge myself.

But there's more. Alot of things true southerners feel and do and enjoy, i dont get it sometimes. I hated young jeezy. He's starting to grow on me now, slightly. And the jig and the lean and rock? When i first saw them i thought the whole dance floor had lost their minds. The jig still looks like the martin short dance to me.

I said i'd never be a southern person, never claim ga more than ct. But in a way i feel like i'm missing something. Like the fun is going on without me. When lauren laughed at kesi's southern slang- "hellyatambout"- i was just like ok...inside joke.

Whats so great about this place? I dont miss bpt nearly as much as she does atl. i guess i better figure it out before i get left behind.