I Want that Flow

There have been times in my life when I have wished I were more... exotic.

In third grade, Nina: hip, bossy, glorious and black, just had a way with people that I don't think I will ever be able to harness. She would often come up to one of the girls, sass coming out of her ears, and ask, "You got a boyfriend?" If the answer was yes* she would continue, "Well drop the zero and get with the hero." I never knew what that meant. I don't think Nina ever knew what that meant. But if I'd had a boyfriend, he'd be gone yesterday.

This morning the same yearning came listening to Obama tell the NAACP that underprivileged teens may face more challenges than the wealthy population, but it was no reason to "get bad grades! Cut class! [or] Drop out of school!" I was all of the sudden transported to a dilapidated porch swing, fanning myself from the heat of life, struggling to get by, abandoning my dreams of becoming a rapper/baller to pursue America's dream for me of becoming a teacher, and loving me for it.

I decided that whether it be Nina Making single ladies out of us all, or Obama making me a scientist/doctor/teacher, I want in. Most of the time. Or at the very least I want Nina's approval of my boyfriend, and Obama to tell me I've got flow.

*Amendment to previous wish: There have been times in my life when I have wished I were more... exotic and had a boyfriend.

6 Cakes

Our neighbors, we'll call them... Bob and Janet*... have enchanted me from day one. Not only do they spend 40% of their time here, smoking,


but 40% in the backyard enjoying life, and 20% doing heaven knows what inside that house I sometimes dream about touring, but usually never want to see for fear it will ruin the fantasy I have imagined for them in there. I hope that some day I can enjoy life as much as the two of them and only need a cigarette, a dog, and American Idol to be happy.

Yesterday I made cupcakes for them for being so fantastic, and for six cupcakes, Tom gave me:

1 Big hug
2 Trips from the front of the house to bring in our trash cans
3 offers to give us his old microwave (which he is getting rid of because apparently its popcorn capabilities have recently diminished)
4 minutes of his time, anytime, to come over and make popcorn on his new microwave
5 Invitations to his Fourth of July barbecue
and 6 ''you're awesome''s.

(Tom repeats himself a lot when he's drunk)... (Tom is always drunk).

I may be more in love with our neighbors at this point than I will ever be capable of loving a family of my own. And I think the common man would agree if he had been called awesome six times in under six minutes for six sub-par cupcakes left on his door step.

*I just realized that's the only time I used the psuedonym for my all-American neighbors, but it just doesn't seem right to not use their real and befitting names.