I am filled with Christ love! - Saved!

Last Saturday, I had sushi with a new acquaintance, Da Boriqua. After a long day of Spring cleaning, I decided to meet him at Ru San's in midtown Atlanta for an afternoon feast. We engulfed countless servings from a smorgasbord of maki, nigiri and sashimi sushi. And I generally don't eat sushi when I'm famished because I always find myself insatiable, but for whatever reason this time I was stuffed beyond satisfaction.

Da Boriqua spoke with a New York accent reminiscent of what you would find in an Enrique Cruz production. However, he didn't necessarily have that Blatino look or feel. There was no thug wear...no Puerto Rican regalia...no "mami" this or "papi" that. Just your simple standard American English wearing Diesal jeans and t-shirt.

To my surprise, we had quite an interesting conversation. We talked about our love for spirits, ie. Vodka, Gin and Tequila. We both tend to drink to get drunk. "Can't we think about the clarity, distillation, taste or purity of alcohol later?!" Then we shared drunken horror stories and laughed between each baptism of sushi into pools of soy sauce.

Last night we met again. It started out as a movie date, but Saved! and The Stepford Wives wasn't playing until today. His ignorance as to what was currently playing and to this week's new releases led me to cancel the theater as a date all together. So I met him at his apartment and watched Futurama, Family Guy, and King of the Hill back to back. I have never claimed to be a fan of animation...even as a child. I was the one who literally rushed home to catch the 4 o'clock Oprah after school each day. I swear! Nevertheless, I diligently sat and watched with Da Boriqua. The storylines were surprisingly smart for how adolescent I perceived animation to be.

After seeing him doze off within scenes, I suggested that I let him rest by leaving.

Da Boriqua: You don't have to leave. You can lay with me.
Me: (resist and flee!!) Where am I gonna lay?
Da Boriqua: Here or in my bed. We just layin...
Me: Aiight.

I put on some of his shorts. He changed into a tee and running pants. We got in the bed.

Da Boriqua: I wanted to ask you to lay with me a long time ago.
Me: Word?

We spooned ever so tightly. He fell asleep. I dozed in and out due to his sleep apnea. After I couldn't take it anymore, I finally got up and out of the bed...got dressed...woke him up...and told him I had to get home (lies).

And now as I reminisce on the time spent, I wonder how long this one will last?

Why must I pose as a cyclist in the park? Have I not learned my lesson from the recent collision? But still I rise...
 

To Grandma, with love...

Many months ago, I splurged and bought an Egyptian Cotton (280 thread count) sheet and pillow set for my bed. For no apparent reason, the package sat in my linen closet up until this past weekend.

I am not sure why I never used the sheet set up until now. I think it is because I was raised with a grandmother who never used her "good stuff."

The Summers I spent at my grandmother's house as a child included:

1. Plastic runners "protecting" the carpet in high traffic areas such as the living room and main hallways.

2. "Do Not Touch" towel sets nicely folded and displayed in the bathrooms.

3. Candles still wrapped in the plastic outercovering, never to be burned...years at a time.

4. "Good" dishes which were only used during Christmas, Thanksgiving, and the occasional Sunday when company visited.

I'm not going to dispute my grandmother's logic/illogic concerning her valuables. That would be futile. But tonight, and from this day forward, I will sleep in Egyptian luxury...because I can...and should.