it was terrible

it turns out he met them on thursday.
and they do not like him.
it did not help that he blew. my. phone. up. this weekend. my mama says it makes him look clingy. but she also fussed when i was the one doing all the calling. i can't win, apparently.
it did not help that my father missed part of game 7 (LAKERS AWW YEAH *ahem*) to talk to him--if they had lost, heaven help the poor boy, i'd never see him alive again.
it did not help that he is going to devry.
it sure didn't help that he talks over-much when he's nervous.
it was amusing, but unhelpful that his eyes were red, and as soon as he said "man, they're gonna think i smoke," my mama said "why are your eyes red? do you smoke?"
all in all, i don't think this will last long.
:(

oh. so. you're my boyfriend now? thanks for letting me know.

um, am i the only person who never knows anything?

i didn't know my family was going to houston until a few days before they were gone.

i didn't know i was getting a car until i walked outside and saw it. i had my suspicions of course, but i thought they were unfounded.

so discovering that i am dating someone is new to me, but i rolls with the punches.

well, speaking of punches, homie is kinda...rough-ish.

not like hitting me, or anything, 'cause i'd jack him up, but just...not gentle?

but i'm tryna do this the right way (for once) and he will be meeting my mama.

this will end terribly, i just know it.

deren already said she was coming up with a list of questions to ask.

this morning my mama was like:

"is he a baggy-pants wearing dude?"

"slightly, mother."

"hmm. grandma says pull'em up. is he an afro, braid wearing brother?"

"no, mother. his hair is like derek's, a taper fade."

"hmm. does he have gold teeth?"

"NOO, mother."

*here comes deren, busting in the conversation.*

"what about silver?"

"no."

"what about diamond-encrusted?"

"NO."

"...platinum?"

my mother started laughing, and high-fived her, saying that deren asked the hard-hitting questions that she couldn't think of.

she said he has to come to church with us.

meaning allllll the church family is going to see him holding my hand (ol' pda lookin'...) and i will be straight harassed.

"who's thiiiis, deven?"

"nobody...i mean...somebody...man, can you get your sanctified side-hug from me and move along already?"

no good.

anyway, i'm going to six flags on friday! yay! pulling contest will recommence, with the addition of my cousin and deren's friends...and i will be successful.

ayy, i said he was my boyfriend.

i ain't say i was his girlfriend.

:D

shh. i probably won't even do it. dang my guilty conscience.

yeah, yeah, i know.

i said i'd post...like 2 weeks ago.
i had stuff to do. dangit.
today is my last of spanish, thank god.
and then it all begins anew on monday. no rest for the wicked.
but anyway.
i said i'd tell how i got locked out the house. i also have two COUNT 'EM two additional stories featuring my dog as the antagonist.

"Locked Out"
so. the yardman (francisco) was cutting the lawn, and i was supposed to pay him. i woke up, aided by the phone vibrating under my head and the lawnmower right outside my window. my mother, prior to leaving, begged me to do something about my hair so i didn't scare francisco (who is like 65) to death by my heatmeiser bedhead. so i hop in the shower. as i'm getting out and applying lotion, i hear the doorbell. so, i figure, i'm just paying him, i can come back and get fully dressed in a minute. i threw a tank top and some sweats on.

first crucial mistake: i neglected underwear.

so i go to the door, pay him, and he says he has to do the back, so can i get lefty the black lab?
i go out the garage, leave the door cracked because we have a fancy lock with a keypad now, that i did not know the code to. i wrangle the dog, stick him in the garage, and then:

my second crucial mistake: i close the door so lefty can't get in the house.

but now, neither can i.
i go to open the door, and i cannot. the garage is closed and it is sweltering. i am sweating my lotion off, my dog is looking at me crazy while i am crying, punching numbers in and beating on the door like someone will let me in.
inventory: no keys, no phone, no draws, one dog.
great.
so i go to throw myself upon the mercy of my neighbors. i spot another yardman and put my pitiful face on. having procured his phone, i call my mother and father frantically. they will laugh about this later. finally reaching my father and getting the code, i am then cussed out by my neighbor, because i couldn't leave lefty in the garage, the final crucial mistake. he seems to think lefty and fool dog are one and the same. i restrain an impulse to cuss back, make it back to my house, punch in the code, put lefty in the back, and take another shower.

"Flashing Lig--Neighbors"
so, i wake up, or am woken up, rather. it's cleaning time. so i'm looking around the house, and i spot some recycling. so i take it out. mind you, i just woke up. hair looks crazy. i'm wearing a tank top and rolled up boxers. so of course my neighbors is outside mowing his lawn. and my dog has escaped. i wrassle him back in and try to throw the recycling way in a dignified manner, but it's hard to be dignified when your thighs are exposed up the the hip. *deren told me my legs remind her of aliens. isn't she the best? -_- * i go back to my house (i left the door open this time) and leave my pride with the recycling. maybe an hour later, i hear a whuffling noise outside my window. i go to look, real cautious like in case someone's tryna come steal me (or worse, the stereos) and it's lefty.
great.
so i go put him back out, fussing the whole way while he grins at me (dogs can grin. and they often do so salaciously) like "aww, you're just joking with me, you know you LOOOOOVE you some me." so i go to the fence, and someone has moved the stone we use to keep him from escaping.
mind you, the FIRST TIME i put him back, i moved that stone.
i think he knows how to get out. and he's coming for me, because a) i'm the only one at home and b) i'm the only one he can punk.

dang dog.