Somebody Give Me Something To Complain About

Quick, give me something to complain about. I mean, if everything is going well, what will I have to write about? What do I do with all this sarcasm bubbling up inside me? Who am I if I don't have any vitriol to spew? I guess I should be happy being happy. I had another great weekend. I know that sounds funny coming from me. I never talk in superlative terms, but I think that's just the word to describe it. Even minor setbacks didn't get me down, and I'm actually looking on the bright side of things. Who is writing this post? Surely, its not Rashan.

Friday was a good day. Although I didn't do everything in the order I thought I was going to do it, and I didn't go to sleep at all, I managed to run all my errands and still be alert and on time for my date with PHD. It was raining Garfield and Scooby-Doo, and PHD was running late from getting her hair done, but the restaurant held our reservations and we wound up having a good time. We hung out with the maybe-weds who are not, I repeat, not getting married in Vegas like they were supposed to. I am glad that I didn't get my ticket, because they would have either gotten married or gotten murdered if I flew across the country. They couldn't even get mad at my new nickname for them, cuz its true. PHD and I are trying to get them to stop planning a wedding and just take there collective ass to the courthouse and get hitched already. We offered to be witnesses if they would just go ahead and take the plunge. Besides hearing that news, the rest of the night was lovely. PHD had a good time on day one of her three day birthday weekend, so mission accomplished. We already have plans for next week, but I don't know what they are yet. It's her turn to plan, so I guess I'll let you know what's up when I find out. She says its a "girly" date. I don't know what the hell that means, but I am NOT getting my nails did. LOL

Saturday, I went to the baby shower for my brother and sister in law. It was cool. It was almost like old times with me and my brother. I don't think I ever wrote about it, but there had been a little tension between us two over the last year. We just haven't been talking like we used to, but since my family has a "don't ask, don't tell" policy, we never talked about it. Maybe I was imagining it, but it was definitely noticeable to me. We just kicked it, like we did in the old days when he used to sleep on my couch and we would watch bad B movies on Black Starz. (The dude on the Stev.e Harv.ey radio show, T.homas M.iles was in two of our favorite horrible Black movies... Thu.g L.ife and F.ifth Wa.rd. These movies are so bad they are good. What up J, if you reading this.."I got to find Mecca!!!") I watched some baby shower games, (cuz I was not going to participate), saw some funny sights (grown twins who still dressed alike) and heard some conversations that illustrated just how far outside of the church world I am ("Jua.nita Byn.um's husband had a demon in him. That's why he beat her up." Like he can't just be a effed up man.) Again, normally a comment like that would have made me talk some shit, but I let it go and kept having a good time.

After spending most of the day out there, and not sleeping the previous day, I wasn't really in the mood to check out the African party. I came home and crashed instead of going back out. I'm really glad I didn't go, cuz the girl that invited me told me today in her Kenyan accent "you shoulda come. I wanted to introduce you to my mother." Umm, no thanks. Besides, sleep was probably the best course of action for me. I was sleep by 11, only waking up to occasionally respond to PHD's text messages as she was out with her girls. I woke up refreshed after getting some good, crazy dream sleep. And then it happened.

Sunday around noon, I was on the phone with, well you know who I was on the phone with, when the call waiting came through. It was a Savannah number. Now, I don't really know anyone in Savannah anymore besides my family, and this number was unfamiliar. I decided to answer it. To my utter shock, it was my friend Kareem. If you read this blog at all, you are probably instantly familiar with Kareem. In all my stories about my past hi jinx and close calls with death, Kareem was there. It must have been at least 5 years since I talked to him. I had decided to estrange myself from him as he got deeper in the drug scene, and I, well, I just wasn't. I don't feel like typing all the whole story out now, so read this if you need further background information. It's ill, because about a year ago, I had decided that I needed to find him, but once I found out where was I never pulled the trigger. His mom and my mom talked, and I finally gave her the go ahead to give Kareem my number. Call it self preservation, I just needed to make sure he wasn't gonna relapse again, before I resumed out friendship.

Well, I talked to him and he sounded like he really had his life on the right track. He started by apologizing and making amends like they do in AA on television. He's engaged, taking care of his daughter, got a job, and even a car. That may not seem like much to you, but if you know like I know, him having a car is like me writing a happy post with no complaining. It's some seriously rare stuff. Kareem was the last male friend I have had, and it was kinda like old times. Normally, my cynical ass would be giving him the side glance, all suspicious and shit, but I honestly believe that he has turned his life around. He asked me to be best man in his wedding next year, which I have to think about. But I do think that we might be able to get past all the drug shit, and just be like brothers again. Wish me luck with that.

Like I said, no complaints at all. This weekend has been excellent. I didn't even trip when I had to go to work this afternoon. I took it all in stride. I hope someone gives me something to complain about otherwise, I got nothing else to write about for the rest of the week. This post got long as hell, and for that I apologize, but it is what is. I hope you all had a great weekend as well.

A-B-Cya!!! (Still bringing back the old school joints!)

Rashan Jamal