It’s another Friday night just chillin’ at my house. My friends have conceded to calling me an old lady, just because I don’t find being up in the club appealing. Right about now my girlfriends are getting out of the shower, scouring their closets for something to wear. I feel kind of glad I don’t have to spend my time doing the club thang, cause I’m getting too old for that shit. Not that I was ever that much into it. Clubs are cool every now and then, but after a while I’m like Loretta Devine from Waiting to Exhale: “Hell, I could be home watching an episode of Good Times.” (Or in my case, an episode of The Hills or Sex and the City). I tend to get bored very easily, especially if it’s a straight scene, and all I do is nurse the same drink all night. Not my idea of a good time. Once you’ve kind of settled down with someone special, there’s no need to carouse for something more. Most of my girlfriends are single, and while it doesn’t mean I can’t go out and have a good time with them, I don’t feel quite as compelled to run the streets as much anymore. Now here’s the part where I pour out my 40 ounce in memory of those days, like DRS in that early 90s jam, “Gangsta Lean.” (Or in my case, I’d pour an Amaretto Sour).
Lebron and I are enjoying a somewhat quiet night. We ordered pizza and watched last night’s episodes of Run’s House and Survivor: China. DVR
is the shit. However, finding the time to watch the recorded shows is the hard part. There are still a couple of Top Model episodes I need to see, but haven’t gotten around to watching. I guess it’s all null and void at this point since I caught this week’s perfect disaster. Ebony, Ebony, Ebony…I guess all the criticism got to her, cause she just threw up her hands and left. Poor little daughter of a crackhead, who tried to so hard to prove how tough she was, became homesick. I was rooting for her at first, despite the gluey, ugly ass wig cap she had or the fact that she constantly wore a look as if something stank just crawled up her nose. I like seeing the underdog come up, and I really thought she would. And the sad thing is, if she would have opened herself up, she could have healed herself of some of that anger and pain. Maybe she would have realized her dream and become America’s Next Top Model (okay, who am I kidding; she would have been lucky to make the top 5). Now I’m stuck rooting for my next favorite, Heather. I love that girl. With a walk like a caveman but a heart of gold, she can model her ass off.
In other exciting news, Lebron’s all excited today because her shoes got published on a popular LeBron-based website. The site posts all kind of news about the Cleveland Cavalier forward. With my girlfriend being a die-hard LeBron shoe fanatic (oh God, you do not want to know how many pairs of shoes she has), a picture of her pair of Nike Zoom LeBron 20.5.5 was featured on the site. She’s overjoyed. Shoes are her life. (I almost think she loves them a little more than me). She’s all gushing cause this is big in the shoe community. You can see the two pics here (the black and white pair on the bottom labeled Freakystud21).
Well, it’s getting late and I have laundry to do in the morning. Hope my homies are being safe out there. Alcohol and stilettos don’t mix.
