Ghetto fabulous
7:02 p.m. - 2003-04-22
I don't know what to do about the loitering group of black men that hang out in my apartments. I don't mind that they hang out, but I don't know what to do. Sometimes, I wave at them. Sometimes, I don't. Sometimes, they wave back. Sometimes, they don't. Sometimes, they try to banter. Last night, they asked a girl upstairs to join them in their drinking soiree. She, of course, declined. I was at the same time, relieved and jealous. I was glad I've never been put in such a position, and envious because I've never been asked. Then I thought, "Duh. I have a kid 24/7. Of course they are not going to ask me to partake...imbibe... sip on the hooch." Oh my God, I just stepped out on the porch and they offered me a beer in a brown bag. I feel bad because I said no. Was that rude? haha My neighbor called me the other night all pissed off. She said she just had to talk to somebody. She had prepared rice, but didn't have enough money to buy butter (same neighbor who later borrowed butter). Well, her boyfriend refused to eat it. She was ready to kick his ass out. I didn't know what to tell her. I just said, "Are you sure? Are you sure you want to end it over some butter?" I mean, shit. I think a relationship needs to end because of something more than butter. She asked what we were eating. I said, "I just made some ramen noodles." She said, "See if it were just me and my son, that's probably what we'd be having." I said, "But girl, I gotta tell ya...we eat butter on our ramen noodles." boohawaha!!!!