Sup Kids!

Kristin called me last night and told me that I had two guesses as to who was doing the Foxtrot in the living room at my parent�s house. As you may or may not know from Kristin�s diary, our parents are taking a ballroom dancing class called �American Smooth.� That right there should be enough for anyone and everyone to stay away but my parents are crazy.

I have been informed that during my trip home to Annapolis this weekend I will be taught the foxtrot, waltz, and something else. I�m afraid of leading so I asked if I could dance with my Dad and just have him lead. I mean, it�s just easier that way. My request was denied.

Not only have my parents begun taking this dance class, but my dad has been re-flooring the basement. It�s gone from carpet to what will soon be a faux hardwood-ish type of material from Homo Depot. I asked if they were going to leave part of it empty for the purpose of practicing their dancing. My Dad told me I wasn�t allowed to joke about it because that had already been suggested by my mother. I�m not sure my father has much room to speak though as he was heard practicing dancing in the kitchen/dining room. The best part I�m sure was the huge crash that occurred when he ran into a chair. <3

Could my weekend get any better you ask? I think not. Ballroom dancing with my mother is really how we should all be passing our weekends. I suppose it�s my turn after Kristin had to actually attend class with our Dad when our Mom couldn�t make class.

I�ve spent the last several days during my lunch at Giant trying to turn these Akins mothers out at the salad bar/hot food bar (Read: cold food bar as the food is still fucking cold). Going there at lunchtime gives you two types of people. The first one are the folks like me, getting their lunch on and running to the express checkout, ready to pay with cash. Type number two is my favorite: old ass mothers with their spouses shopping for home. Yesterday there was this deaf mother and her husband who was equally as deaf yelling back and forth to each other about something in the canned foods aisle. It�s not that they were mad at each other and were yelling, they just couldn�t hear one another so that was the best way to try to communicate. It went something like this:

Deaf Mother 1: HOW MUCH IS IT?
Deaf Mother 2: what?
DM1: HOW�MUCH�IS IT?
DM2: HOW SHOULD I KNOW?
DM1: what?

It pretty much went on like that and I had to walk away and load up on my chicken wings�WHICH by the way were at the �hot food bar.� They were cold and being the lazy bitch I am, I at them cold with ranch dressing. There�s something about heating up meat with bones on it in the microwave that scares me. I feel like they�re going to be extremely hot and I will burn the shit out of my mouth and start spitting bones. Not that it would necessarily be a bad thing�so be forewarned not to sit across from me if anyone is eating micro waved chicken wings with me.

The only real interesting thing that I can think of to talk about was a magical moment that happened to me last Saturday morning after spending an awesome evening out on the town in DC. I went to the best dive bar ever and rocked that jute box like it needed to be rocked. It was not a gay bar however when my selections were played, it was pretty obvious that the homos in the corner were the culprits. I did, however, manage to play a favorite of one of the wait staff there. Who doesn�t love Thelma Houston�s �Don�t Leave Me this Way�?

After a night of drinking VERY generously poured doubles of Stoli and soda it was apparent that driving was not in my near future�cut to me this next morning taking a cold shower then shuffling to my car with my shoes untied and my hair a fucking mess. I got in my car and knew that things were not going my way. After I got on the parkway to head back to my apartment it suddenly hit me that I was about to see part of my evening again in liquid form. The parkway I take home has no shoulders. I was trying to smoke, hold back vomit, and pull over onto the grass. I almost hit a speed limit sign, swerved back onto the road, swerved back onto the grass, opened my car door and went for the gold. The best part is that I didn�t even get out of my car and run around to the back. Everyone and their fucking mom driving on the parkway saw me�and my lime green vomit. The lime green thing caught me off guard as I hadn�t had anything remotely that color. I started laughing because this whole scene was just absolutely fantastic. I didn�t even undo my seatbelt. I was hoping someone would honk. They didn�t. I followed that up by going home, putting on PJ�s and then at 7:00pm going to Popeyes and then Safeway for groceries.

I leave you with really gay things that I said yesterday:

1. Yeah, that�s fine and all, but does it come in fun colors like pink?
2. Are my lips shiny enough?
3. Aren�t these products fun?
4. Hopefully she�ll jazz it up for the spring collection cause this is making me tired.

A week since I�ve updated, I know. I will try to be better. Now all I need are fantastical pictures. I�ll work on that.

The Inauguration is going on downtown and it�s a fucking mess. Everyone is off of work but me. BOO!

e.