1) It’s the DMV. I’m in love with the whole “urea” and I’ve got a shxt load of people and places that I wanna see. Plus
2) it’s not MI and that’s more than good enough for me.
3) Lil One and I have business to attend to, namely the perpetuation of a drive by committed with backpack super soakers full of melted yellow snow…cones. Eric keeps saying that he wont do it but he has yet to experience my extreme sad face, poked out bottom lip and puppy about to be euphonized at an overcrowded shelter look. We’d be rollin’ down the highway in his Gremlin rappin’ along to “Typical” before he knew what hit him.
But, due to some extreme loafage on behalf of my benefactress, ya girl was stuck at home for the holiday.
Oh. Frickin’. Joy.
Don’t get me wrong, I love mi familia, I do. I would even go as far as to say that I’m thankful for them because I am. But do I like them all the time?
No. Hell no.
This year was much like last year in the way that damn near all of the prep and cooking duties fell to yours truly. They say that it’s to prepare me for when I move out and host my own Thanksgiving dinners at my place. I say it’s because they’re lazy as shxt and that they’ll be lucky to even know where I live once I’m gone. I don’t have privacy behind the locked door of my bedroom. I refuse to let my apartment be the same way.
I didn’t mind the cooking, I enjoyed it actually.
I made collard greens, corn bread, sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, a peach pie and a sweet potato pie. I also cooked the turkey. Now that, cookin’ the bird, had me worried a lil bit. If I effed up and didn’t produce a juicy, moist turkey, I never woulda heard the end of it from the fam.
No, it wasn’t the cooking that got to me, it was the eating arrangements. For some, still unknown to me, reason, I was sat next to Nana…
”I don’t like this; we need men around the table. I’m tired of all these female faces.”
I took that as my cue to go to the buffet we had set up to fix my plate. When I got back to the table with my plate, Nana turned to me and in a stage whisper she asked, “Reni, don’t you want a man?”
In lieu of an answer, I forked some sweet potatoes into my mouth and concentrated on chewing and making sure my bra strap didn’t show. But did my non-answer deter Nana? Sadly…no.
”Honestly, you’re getting older LauRen, don’t you wanna get married soon?”
Married? Soon? Uh…no. I’m good on that. I’ve been twenty less that four months and here she is in the pursuit of great-grandchildren. Lawd.
If 2012 isn’t the end of the world like everyone says it is—don’t start wit’ me on that foolishness, I don’t believe it. They basically said the same shxt about Y2K and nine years later here we are—I do indeed see myself getting married. But not before that. Well, there is only one exception to tat rule and it would be if the one who already bought my ring would get down on one knee and asked me…
Nana went on to say that she had a vision that our entire family and my still faceless man would be going on a cruise next year for Christmas. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask that Nana gets her vision corrected as I have one of my own. Next Christmas, I see myself far the fxck away from Lansing and my family. And if there does happen to be a man in the picture, no way in hell would I subject him to the mess that is my family. See, my family is the type of thing that could make someone break up with you on Christmas and as mi familia doesn’t drink, I wouldn’t be able to cope with the nonsense by drinking cup after cup of alcohol rich egg nog.
Later on in the car, mom told me that Nana had a point. That I won’t be warm at night without a man. I gave her my soon to be patented, “what the fxck is this sick shxt spewing out of your mouth right now? Do you not hear and recognize your nonsense?” look and told her
”I’ll be plenty warm under my electric blanket”
Then I put my Skull Candy’s back on and zoned to Evanescence’s Fallen album.
Tryin’ to get me coupled up with some Lansing nigga. Bah.