"You have the perfect excuse," she said,
"you have a dog."








She pointed out the obvious all night, but somehow it felt like I was hearing these ideas for the first time. These were thoughts I would 'normally' think myself, but lately I haven't been making the mindtime.

"People are going to have something to say no matter what you're doing, so you might as well just say 'f*ck 'em' and do whatever you want. You come first so why not take pride in your decisions and look great at the same time? Drink lots of water and walk your dog for an hour every morning while you flex every muscle you can think of with each step. C'mon, let's go out tonight."

Uh... I don't think so. I haven't showered today, I just finished walking the dog for an hour and I stink - not to mention I'm dressed like a shlep.

"Get in the shower, here's some soap and a facial foamy yummy pseudo clothy thingy. I've already turned on the radio - just get the lighter to light the candles and I'll have an outfit for you by the time you finish. Take your time, girl, enjoy the shower and getting ready - make it a big production."

And I did. We both looked great that night - we felt great too. (I should mention I was wearing a great deal of eye make-up and my hair was braided in pigtails.) We took a cab to a destination two blocks away because we looked too good to huff it there only to be smelly promptly upon arrival.

We got out of the car, walked into the place and I eventually realized we were literally the only two white people in the club. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have noticed, but while we were waiting at the bar for our drinks I scoped out the scene and my full turn landed on a table of six ladies who were looking directly at me with a glare that I'll never be able to describe and I'll never be able to forget.

"Shim lah la la la shma ma yikkle swooh," she knew I had no idea what she said, but we had our drinks in our hands and there was only one thing to do, let our feet find a spot to stand. The music was so loud I walked straight to the back where we had access to the 'patio' and we found empty chairs, a table, a mild winter night and a decibel level low enough to understand what the other one was saying. I let her do most of the talking, she's Irish, she's my Huzby's aunt and she has a real way with words. She was telling me things she says in her day to day that are so brutally honest people don't know what to make of her. They either burst out laughing or give her a look that wonders how much longer it will be before she's admitted to the nearest psych ward - but the best part is she doesn't care either way.

To any random guy who might strike up a conversation: "I hope you're not thinking you're going to get in my pants by talking to me because honestly, where do you get off thinking you could actually handle me in bed? Don't you think you're a bit full of yourself? Really."

To a table she's waiting that's raving about the food: "That's great, really, but to be honest I really don't give a flying f*ck what you think of it 'cause I didn't cook it." Always punctuated with her signature laugh, soon to be copyrighted.

To her African-American boyfriend as he's getting up to get her the glass of water she requested: "White power."

To a person complimenting her on her appearance: "Well it's about time you said something, it took a good two hours for me to get ready."

To the lady in the bathroom stall next to her who passes gas - the noisy kind: "You go girl. Get it all out."

photo by: LL