iluvu2much

I love you too much
To let you hurt me again
Though leaving you is
Like walking in the wind
I can’t return
Or turn around
Or let this wall
I build come down
For you, at least
I love me too much
To not find peace
That piece of me
I got rid of
When I gave
You my love

When I gave you my love
When I gave you my love

I love you too much
To let you hurt me again
Though leaving you is
Like walking in the wind
I can’t return
Or turn around
Or let this wall
I build come down
For you, at least
I love me too much
To not find peace
That piece of me
I got rid of
When I gave
You my love

When I gave you my love
When I gave you my love

Every second is getting harder
Moving further
From the one thing that I thought
I needed
And I’m tired
Of the waiting
Around for what
I truly feel I deserve
(When I gave you my love)
But you never told me
One word
(When I gave you my love)
That would make me feel
Comfortable
(When I gave you my love)
I just wanted to be more, babe

Oh
Oh oooh oh oh

I'm Over It

Bye-bye 2008!

And good riddance. While you had your high moments, and I thoroughly enjoyed my travels, revelations and wild times, I must say this: I am over you. Don’t get me wrong. Visiting DC four times in one year was amazing: First, to see my beloved sorority undergraduate chapter celebrate a glorious birthday; Second, to watch one of my dearest friends (“Denise”) graduate; Third, to party again with sorority sisters – hailing from all corners of the country – for our anniversary; and finally, to celebrate a REAL Homecoming. Though other colleges near and far attempt to match the beast of an event that my Alma Mater has created… our annual festivities remain unparalleled.

All-Star Weekend in the picturesque, cultural haven that is New Orleans was a memorable weekend to say the least. “The Taste” in Chicago for the 4th was a bundle of fun, food and fireworks tied together somewhat haphazardly with a red, white and blue bow (I’m thinking the Everclear did that). Adopting a new mentee has been both challenging and enlightening. While I’m sometimes frustrated by societal conditions that have made programs like “Big Brothers Big Sisters” even necessary, I can’t help but smile to myself when I witness even the smallest difference in Ruby’s speech, behavior or attitude. I’m making a difference in her life. That is empowering and incredible and shocking all at once. It feels good.

Witnessing HISTORY on November 4th was remarkable. Losing my job wasn’t much fun, but getting a new one in this downward spiraling economy could only have been an act of God. And, as I’m settling in to my new role, reflecting on the year I’ve had, and pondering about what’s ahead of me, I have reached a few striking conclusions.

1. Everything will be okay. I mean this in the broadest sense possible. If this year has taught me anything, it is just that. Things will work themselves out. So, sit tight. Grin. Bear it. And enjoy the ride.
2. Never make someone a priority when they only consider you as an option. Never make someone a priority when they only consider you as an option.
Never make someone a priority when they ONLY CONSIDER YOU AS AN OPTION.
3. Friends and family are the collective most important support system you will ever have. You inherit your family, but you pick your friends. Choose wisely.
4. Giving back is one of the most rewarding things you can do in life.
5. Never make someone a priority when they only consider you as an option.

I cried about points #2 and #5 last night. Just as the boy and I had reached our “comfortable place” he makes a careless and thoughtless remark about having purchased David Yurman jewelry for his former girlfriend during their courtship. Now, here comes the super-girly, somewhat irrational me, so get ready: WHAT THE HELL?! Don’t tell me shit like that. You know how I feel about that entire debacle, and yet you still manager to unconsciously bring her up. I get it!

We talked/dated/what-have-you for over a year, but you never wanted to commit. I graduate and all of the sudden… Ta-da! Your commitment-phobia has lapsed and you’re in a relationship. You guys break up (of course you do, because she’s a dirty, slutty whore) and what do you know… you and I miraculously become friends again. But wait, that commitment-phobia has reared its ugly little head again, and you have politely placed my in the “friend” box… FOREVER. I get it.

Am I not good enough? Did those years in undergrad, and the months we’re putting in now not count? Do we need a title for you to do nice things for me? I am worth it, you know. But sheesh! I mean, I can’t even get you to drive three hours down I-75 to see me, yet you were willing to spend hundreds of dollars on her? I’m confused, and irritated, and hurt. How come you started with me... and then rebounded with me... and yet I reap none of the same benefits as that little hussy? Huh?

What further compounds my frustration is that my brother and his girlfriend were all goo-goo ga-ga over Christmas break, buying each other extravagant gifts and planning extravagant trips for New Years, his birthday, Spring Break, and his graduation. Can I please meet someone who loves me enough to do nice things for me?

To be honest, what really bugs me is how much this bugs me. I mean, this situation, in its entirety “is like 100 years old” (to quote Jennifer Aniston from Oprah last week (y’all know I love that woman)). And yet, it still gets to me… like a tiny bug that seems to have crawled under my skin and begun nesting. It’s enough to make a girl go crazy.

On top of that (which didn’t help one bit), is the fact that I ran into said “former girlfriend” at a holiday party held by my prophyte last night. I couldn’t tell if she had on her David Yurman jewelry because I couldn’t stand to look at her for longer than three seconds at a time. Ugh.

I’m OVER IT! I’m over feeling like this! I’m over you and your dumb-ass decisions and our pretty little friendship that’s going nowhere fast. You are no longer a priority in my life. So you, and your stupid problems, and your David Yurman receipts, and your trashy ex-girlfriend, and your silly remarks, and your “keep-her-in-the-friendship-box” mentality can KICK ROCKS.

I’m over it.

We Can't Have It All

I got waitlisted for an MBA Prep Program today.

It was a program that I had been really enthusiastic about to begin with. I told all of my other B-School prospect friends to apply as well. I anticipated all of us getting in, and traveling the country together for seminars, panel discussions and campus visits - all through this saving grace of a program. But, I got waitlisted. I'm happy for those who made it in (per my recommendation to apply) and will proceed to prepare for the GMAT, but I must admit: I'm bummed.

The boy and I had a slight back-and-forth via gchat today as well. Now that I've begun working again, my body is in the process of re-adjusting to work hours. Needless to say, last night, after a brief phone convo with him, I slept like a baby. Today, in our typical day-long chat session, I mentioned as much. He, however, has had trouble sleeping over the past few nights. He couldn't tell me why he's had trouble sleeping, though. He anticipated that I would "start acting weird" if he told me the details. I was tempted to press him about it, but I elected not to. I believe he knows me well enough. If he thinks I'll be upset over something he dreamed about, he's probably right.

But wait a minute. The only thing I've ever truly been "upset" about when it comes to him is another female. So, he's dreaming about other females, huh? Should I be annoyed by that? I am. I'm even more so annoyed by the fact that, just last week, we were going back-and-forth about how well we REALLY know each other. He tries to hide behind this illusive facade, making himself seem more introspective/complicated/mysterious than he actually is. That's not to say that he doesn't possess those qualities... but I peep them. And, I recognize the degree to which he possesses each trait. Like: you are a pensive guy and I LOVE that about you... but you're also extremely reactive. I'm just saying. After years of dealing with a person you learn their nuances... and mannerisms... pet peeves, habits, quirks, colloquialisms and the like. If you're like me, you get to the point where you can practically finish a guy's sentences. You can look in his eyes and know what he's thinking (but not mind read (because there's a difference)). It's not about being cocky, and thinking you know it all. It's about being thorough in understanding him (to the point that you naturally anticipate his words and actions).

After that particular argument, his concluding words to me had been: "you don't know me as well as you think you do." OH. Okay. But in THIS debate, you already know how I'll respond to your dreams? You "know" me; but I don't "know" you. Interesting.

Finally, today, I received a somewhat overdue email from a hiring manager today. She was "regretting to inform me" that someone had already filled a position for which I recently interviewed. Someone from HR had already told me as much, but I appreciated that the manager would reach out on her own. Because it's good form (and because I'd already secured another position and could finally bear some professional criticism without crying) I replied, inquiring as to why I hadn't been offered the position. After all, the resume is always a work in progress. We could all stand to do better - regardless of where we stand in the world. HER response, though, completely rubbed me the wrong way. She referenced how I could have been more "assertive" in my previous role by "taking ownership" of projects and doing "more that what was required" in my position.

HAVE WE MET?!

I can give you a plethora of projects and references that all attest to my abilities. I am the quintessence of everything you just said! I owned more projects than any other entry-level employee I knew at the time! I was diligent in all work efforts, and consistently did more than was EVER required of me! My boss, and my boss's boss could and would tell you this any day of the week! Are. You. Serious. ??

It's clear: we CANNOT have it all. We won't always get the recognition we have earned (even when our accomplishments sing loud and clear). We won't make it into every single program to which we apply. The unspoken love in our life won't always be able to share his dreams with us. And sometimes, we'll earn gainful employment with one group, while losing an opportunity with another (that pays less and is managed by someone who makes poor wording decisions in virtual correspondence).

But, we CAN count our blessings. We have our new job. Our goals are still in tact and we can pursue business school without the assistance of some program. We are learning to let things go, no matter how bothersome. We have our dear friends (who prevent us from sending hasty response e-mails). And we have Neapolitan Ice Cream to soothe our souls after long and trying days.

So, for now at least, I can settle for "most".

X&Y

Trying hard to speak and
Fighting with my weak hand
Driven to distraction
It's all part of the plan
When something is broken
And you try to fix it
Trying to repair it
Any way you can

I dive in at the deep end
You become my best friend
I want to love you
But I don't know if I can
I know something is broken
And I'm trying to fix it
Trying to repair it
Any way I can

You and me are floating on a tidal wave
Together
You and me are drifting into outer space
Together
And singing...

You and me are floating on a tidal wave
Together
You and me are drifting into outer space
Together

You and me are floating on a tidal wave
Together
You and me are drifting into outer space
Together
And singing...

Something in the Water

There's something odd taking place in the dating world lately.

I'm not dating any one person specifically. "The Boy" throws me for a loop about once a month, which is fine. Sometimes I throw salt in the game just to spice things up. Don't ask me why. I'm a female and I have trouble controlling my emotions/thoughts/actions sometimes. I'm working on it. Otherwise, he and I converse regularly and enjoy one another's virtual company. Clearly, he lives in a different state, and we rarely see each other. Thus, gchat and phone calls have to suffice for now.

When I'm thirsting for some platonic testosterone, however, my options are pretty limited. I have about four or five guy friends down here that I could call and kick it with pretty much anytime. I would consider each of these guys, legitimately, a "good friend". Though, candidly I don't really believe in platonic friendships... I believe that, in any guy-girl friendship, given ample time and opportunity, at least ONE member of the party would make a move on the other. It's biology.

So, yeah. Four or five guy friends down here... and that's about it. For concerts, sporting events, trips to the bar, and simple car problems, they're GREAT to have around. Whenever I meet a new guy, however, I get all kinds of irrational, overwhelming vibes. I'm in "chill mode" as it stands right now. Not really looking for a boyfriend. Not really interested in anything that requires nightly check-in phone calls, constant texting, incessant "hanging out", etc. Men can start to resemble children after awhile (if you pay enough attention). I'm good on that.

But for real though, dudes down here be trippin'. As soon as they figure out I'm legitimately into sports, I drink beer and I can carry on an intellectual conversation, they're in love. I'm not joking. And, I know Cece is reading this thinking 'this bitch is full of herself'... but I'M NOT! I'm telling the truth! Like, aren't the girls supposed to be the ones who catch feelings while dudes stay in the cut laughing and moving on? I'm so confused.

It is as though the roles in the courting phase have completely reversed. I've already lost one "guy friend" to this weird syndrome a number of young men seem to be experiencing. We were kicking it often, and I was enjoying every minute of it. Foreign films, NBA games, barhopping, exploration with --eh, botany. You name it. We were having a good time. After awhile though, I guess the signals got crossed and he got to thinking I was up for more than I really was. After a drunken convo and a three-second kiss, I had to tell him "I'm happy being single, and I consider you a friend." Wamp, wamp. Haven't heard from him since.

Anisa and I were discussing this the other day, and I'm convinced there is something in the water. For instance, she went out with a guy not too long ago who, after two separate encounters (1st - kissing at a house party; 2nd - a semi-charming date) proceeds to tell her "I know you're interested me, and I can really see us going places. I had no idea you were so smart," or something to that effect. Um, excuse me. WHAT did you just say? You thought I was some idiot cute face with a fat ass? (Anisa does have quite a nice booty, if I do say so myself -- no homo). You think that you're so whimsical and charming that I'm going to drop what I'm doing to be with you? You think you got it like that?! Huh?

In the same conversation, I told Anisa about a young man I'd recently met through a mutual friend. I'd been to his place to watch football, and we'd both attended a rally for an upcoming Senate run-off with a group of friends. He was cool, and I could see us hanging out more often... but as of today, dude is completely whilin'. He texts me on some "did I do something to make you mad, or are you just not feeling me? bc you haven't been responding to my texts." Sir, when we first met, I told you "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm chillin'. Not much of a phone person, either. I'm good." We can definitely kick it, but please fall back with all these unfounded inquiries on the status of our "relationship". We are COOL. And, that's about it. I'm not pressed, by any means. Period.

Where is all this coming from? Can't we just be young and enjoy people for who they are? Can we not enjoy friendships as they stand? What is the rush? Can we have a second conversation before you ask about my relationship status? And in Anisa's case: can we have a third conversation before you practically propose marriage?!

Please. From now on, bottled water for everyone. For real. Dudes are actin' mad girly these days, and it's totally, utterly, and seriously NOT. CUTE.

The Weekender

Last week, I experienced the definition of "Best Weekend Ever"... or maybe, "Best Weekend In Awhile". It was one of those weekends where you happen to stumble into a good time at every turn. It was a weekend full of surprises - both good and bad.

Friday: After a long day of non-work, a new friend of mine came over to pre-game before the nights festivities. We had no concrete plans... we just wanted to see where the night would take us. We pre-gamed at my house and headed towards a trendy part of town full of bars and inexpensive restaurants. After a few $3 vodka martinis and light appetizers at one of my favorite tapas bars, we headed to a lounge in another popular part of town. Our friends were the party promoters and the event was free all night. After making our way into VIP we met a group of charming young men (most of them, at least), one of whom was drop-dead gorgeous. Slightly taller than me, scruffy mustache and beard, a hat that covered his face, and a charm that I hadn't encountered in awhile. He was so cute. He bought me a drink (after I teased him for babysitting his own), we danced a bit, and exchanged numbers. By 2:00 the lights were on and it was time for all of us to peace out. But my homegirl and I weren't tired. So, off to another venue to meet some of her guy friends from a local HBCU. Just as we're arriving to their party spot, the venue is clearing out. We're figuring out the next move and two of the three guys are playfully hitting on me already. I'm having a great time to say the least. But, it's time to go. What to do? Breakfast. We agree to meet at one guy's house for an early morning meal of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Yum.

In my drunken stupor, however, I end up drunk dialing the boy. All of these new boy-toy options, coupled with the fact that HE and I never discuss what's going on with us... well, it was starting to confuse me. I need clearly defined boundaries, rules and structure in my life. I need to be fully aware of what's going on at all times, so that I can behave (or misbehave) accordingly. It sounds vaguely narcissistic, but it's necessary! It's weird, too. In any other aspect of my life, I'm completely willing to go with the flow. With this young man, however, I'm irrational, overly pensive and always second-guessing. Though I value the relationship that I'm currently building with the boy, I need to know that we're on the same page. I need to know that we're respecting some sort of undefined boundaries though our "relationship" lacks a title and therefore requires no such thing. I'm telling you, the "boo" status never amounts to anything truly positive.

Our conversation results in absolutely nothing substantial, so I hang up the phone and head to breakfast. No need in brooding over something I cannot control or fix. After stuffing my face with carbs and sugar, I fall asleep on the couch with the two flirters. By 7:00 am my eyes crack open to rays on sunshine beaming through the blinds. It's time to go home. What a great night!

Saturday: After sleeping the day away, I head over to see the 4th bridesmaid, "Melanie". Melanie was the first person I met in college. We had the exact same major, we were both in the honors program, and at the time, we were both very uptight (while I eventually grew out of that, Mel still possesses the trait). Mel is from this city where we both currently reside, so to save money, she lives with her parents. Her dad was celebrating a birthday, so family friends were on their way. On top of that, I would be there, as would Melanie's "friend" who happened to be a boy. This young man, however, was not to be confused with a "boyfriend". Melanie, for whatever reason, was scared to death of using this title just yet.

Melanie's parents were great hosts and hilarious company. Her dad is a born comedian and her mom is a natural entertainer. He was telling jokes while she was playing songs on the piano. Between the hospitality, wonderful food and countless glasses of wine, I was content with the evening as it was. But there was more to come! After dinner, the non-boyfriend, Melanie and I headed downtown for more drinks at a local bar. We were meeting up with the non-boyfriend's friends to see what trouble we could get into. We ended up drinking pitchers of beer and playing flip-cup while watching football on several widescreens. I headed home on a full stomach, a full buzz, and a sore face from laughing so much. I slept well that night.

Sunday: Quality time with my "little sister/mentee" named "Ruby". I was running late (as usual) to pick her up, and thus, I was a little stressed. Her birthday had just passed, and I wanted to do something special for her as she celebrated ten years on earth. Ideally, I would have made it to her birthday party, but her mother neglected to tell me that the date and time had changed. Thus, I was left to my own devices and had to plan something else for us to do... Today would only be our second outing, and I wanted everything to go smoothly.

I picked her up and we went to church, which ended up being really inspirational for me. The message was very helpful and pertained exactly to my current work/emotional situation. Ruby, however, was less enthused. I guess when I was ten I found church a little drab too... ah well. Next, we went to dinner at Copeland's Cheesecake Factory. As we drove through the parking deck, and walked through various shops and restaurants to reach Copeland's, Ruby asked where we were. "Are we in a different country?" she asked. Wow. I frequented Atlantic Station on a regular basis. I shopped, ate and watched movies there all the time. I guess, though, this strip mall/neighborhood really was a stark contrast to the Section 8 housing projects in which she lived. Over dinner, she mentioned how much fun she was having, which made me smile. I mean, it was only church and dinner. But I guess, to her, it meant a lot.

We took a few pictures in front of the newly planted Christmas Tree before leaving. I guess Ruby had never played with a digital camera before, because she wanted to photograph everything. "I want to take pictures of this new country," she had said. While her morning and afternoon had been full of surprises and discovery, the evening would provide a doozy of a surprise for me.

As I dropped her off, and noted how quickly nighttime was approaching, I made subtle haste in getting back in my car to leave. No offense, but no one wants to be in an unfamiliar part of town at night... alone. I was pulling around the corner eyeing three young boys who appeared to be playing with something. What they were playing with is something I couldn't quite discern. I assumed it was a stick or something. But one last glance proved their toy was no stick at all... it wasn't even a toy, for that matter. Those boys were playing with a gun.

My shoulders sunk. My heart dropped. I shook my head. How tragic it was that my mentee was living in a neighborhood, in a community, where something so frightening could take place. These children had access to a gun. Loaded or not, the exposure in and of itself was dangerous. I considered going back to the apartment to inform her mom... but I imagined that she already knew things like this were going on around her. Who was I kidding? This was culture shock to me, and me only. I was a visitor in this neighborhood... and it was time for me to go home. But, I had my work cut out for me. I saw how much Ruby really needed me and I was looking forward to the challenge.

The Turkey and The Mouse

Family time is always time well spent.

Thursday morning we wake up, shower and get ready to drive to Grandma's house. As I'm placing my homemade desserts in a bag, my father asks for the keys to my car. He needs to load the cleaning/lawn supplies into my trunk before we leave. Before the big dinner, he had planned to rank my grandmother's leaves and do some housework that she couldn't otherwise do for herself. But,we were taking my car? Grr.

Okay. I hand him the keys, praying he doesn't see the half-empty Malibu bottle in my trunk. He then gets on the phone with a few of his subordinates to ensure that the day's work is getting done. (Poor souls have to work on Turkey Day!) As I walk outside, magazines in hand, I mentally prepare myself for a relaxing two-hour ride. My father, however, politely seats himself in the backseat, returns the keys to me, and continues his phone conversation. I clinched my jaw so hard, I'm pretty sure I need some sort of dental attention. What was GOING ON?! I did not sign up for this, and neither did poor little Jada. She needs $600 worth of work on her sad little crank pulley... or something. She can't drive all these long distances!!! WAAAAAHHHH!

Fine. I have Paris pull up driving directions on her BBerry and we make our way down the interstate. Once we arrive, my dad, uncle and cousins begin yard work, and I assist my aunts with cleaning and cooking. Though Grandma had intended to bake two Sweet Potato pies, the responsibility was inadvertently delegated to me through a series of one-step directions. "Just peel the potatoes for me," she had said. "Okay, now add a stick of butter and two eggs," she called out from the bedroom. "Alright, now add the sugar and a little vanilla," she added. Well, what do you know, after I had mixed the ingredients they were ready for the oven. Ha! Grandma was slick!

Meanwhile, all the yard work had made my father thirsty. His thirst, however, could not be quenched by water, or the countless sodas we already had in the house. No. He needed lemonade. And, he needed me to leave the house to go buy some. Oh! And some ice cream while I was out. Never mind the fact that he was lactose intolerant, or diabetic. Sweet lemonade and Breyer's Ice Cream were necessities today. Also, never mind the fact that I had yet to start working, and thus had no income. "He would pay me back." [I have yet to see the cash from that promise.]

Fast forward and the tables are set, pretty much everyone had arrived, and we're simply waiting for those pies to be ready. Paris is busy fixing Grandma's TV so that we can watch the game as we dine. After all, what is Thanksgiving without a football game to consume our attention? She had almost figured out the problem when I saw something scurry from behind the couch to the TV.


"PARIS, GET UP!" I yell. It had been too big to be a bug; too small to be an acceptable household pet. Ugh. I thought to myself. We had ourselves a mouse. "What?" she inquired. "There's a mouse!" I called, retreating to the nearest chair. I needed something to stand on. At that point, everyone was alert. There was lots of commotion as we figured out what to do next. The lift the couch. The mouse runs to the front door. My uncle attempts to - eh - stab him with a garden hoe. He fails. The mouse runs under the corner coffee table. Three grown men are unable to catch and dismember him. He runs towards the bathroom. Dead end. He runs under my chair. I scream. He runs under the stove... and stays. Despite the greatest efforts of my dad, and two cousins, he stays put. Mind you, the oven is still on, and those pies are still baking. I hear a faint squeal and determine that Mr. Mouse has died under that stove due to the 350 degree heat. Well I hope, for my grandmother's sake, that he died... otherwise, that's just disturbing.

Fast forward through dinner (which was delicious) and everyone is in clean-up mode. We're all making take-home tin pans full of leftovers, exchanging hugs and saying goodbyes. Daddy, was tired, and even though I too had been on my feet all day, I would have to drive home. (Does anybody see where I'm going with this? I mean, really. WTF?)

So, I drive home, making pit stops to drop off my uncle, and drive through the college campus of my father's alma mater. We make it back, pooped. Dad and Paris are leaving in the wee hours of the next morning. Paris wants to catch some Black Friday deals back in North Cack. I try to be a good daughter/sister and stay up so that I'm alert and helpful when they decide to head back... but that plan fails. I'm barely awake to hug them when they finally decide to go. I wind up sleeping Friday away just so I can recuperate from the previous two days' unexpected events. But, I'm not complaining.

Although I had missed my mom's presence, and hoped my little bro had had a good time with his girlfriend's family, my Thanksgiving turned out pretty great. Dad and Paris had been nice to have around, even if only for a few days... and by surprise, at that.

It's true. Family time is always time well spent.

Paris is My Favorite!

Family time is always time well spent.

However, when your family (half of it, at least) shows up at your door unexpectedly, well, that's still "time well spent"... it just means you have to adjust your mindset and realize that your apartment is no longer your own. Well, at least not for the next few days.

My father had said to me a few days prior that he "might" make it to town for Thanksgiving. I had already planned to stay put, seeing as how most of my aunts, uncles and cousins already live here. We would make a day-trip to see my grandmother on Thursday, and return that same evening. If Dad could make it down, that would be wonderful. But, I wasn't holding my breath.

Well, Tuesday afternoon, I'm busy texting my younger sister "Paris" who reveals to me that she and my father will be hitting the road shortly to drive down. Huh? "We were waiting on Mom, but I don't think she intends to come," Paris says. There's so much wrong with that statement, I don't know where to begin.

First, why hasn't my dad called to tell me that he did, indeed, decide to drive down for the holiday? Second, explain why my mother isn't coming and no one has been able to get in touch with her for hours? Third, where are the two of you planning to stay? Finally, when did anyone expect that I would be clued-in on these last-minute decisions?!

It's fine. They are my blood! Of course, I will accommodate them. Daddy can stay with his brother on one side of town, and I will bring my little sis to the apartment to kick it for a few days. This will be fun! Well, a few hours into their car ride, Paris texts again to say "Daddy says we're both staying with you. BTW, how long will you be up? We should get in around 1 am."

Thanks for the heads up!!

Okay, let me set up the futon so my dad has a place to sleep. I hope my roomie's BFF hadn't planned on spending the night (who am I kidding though? she LIVES here). I busy myself with Conan O'Brien until they finally arrive.

When they walk through the door, I am truly elated to see them. Though I had just been home a few weeks ago, it was great to hug and kiss both of them again. I was disappointed that Mom hadn't made the trip, but with all of these "last minute decisions" my father had made, she hadn't had the opportunity to change her existing plans. I understood.

The next morning, Dad was off to play golf with my uncles, leaving my sister and me to our own devices. Paris managed to sleep in until 2 o'clock. She probably would have slept later if I hadn't pounced on her - forcing her to get up, shower, and make plans with me for the day. We shopped, and made our way to Hooters for dinner (they have the BEST wings!!). It's amazing how much sisters have in common. While I bombarded her with questions about every single purchase (many of which she completely dismissed) and playfully chastised her when she ignored my questions... I clearly saw how much we actually had in common. We try not to concern ourselves with things that do not concern us. That's kind of rare among women. We both love sports and are comfortable in our own skin (hence the Hooters pick for dinner). We love music, we laugh easily, and sometimes find frustration in communicating with people with minimal intelligence. Like I said, family time is always time well spent.

When we got home, I made her a cocktail so we could watch the Carolina game and wrap gifts. That's what big sisters are for!! Her infectious laugh at my neurotic gift-wrapping techniques was soon followed by heated demands and long-drawn sighs hurled towards Carolina's starting line-up. She's a little imbalanced, my little sister. Eventually the evening ended and we headed to bed, knowing that Thanksgiving day was bound to be long.

I would soon find "long" to be a vast understatement.