Today, Mother asked if there were any men in my life that have my heart aflutter. Anyone who knows me well knows that my heart is in a constant state of flutter, due to a heart condition that modern medicine has not yet found a cure for (aside from recommendations that I up my salt intake and drink plenty of water). On my walk home from Rach Sophia Stewarts house, a short Italian man who was probably in his fifties but due to unfortunate lifestyle choices looked like he was in at least his mid-sixties said hey to me, and then wouldnt stop talking to me as I continued to walk past and out of earshot. Im not sure when Ill ever hear from him again, but it was nice knowing that someone out there noticed me and really cared. Soon after, a young gentlesir about my age, riding on his bicycle out for a ride around town with his friends, shouted a greeting from across the street. I pondered whether, if I responded with a simple yo, that qualifies me as a hollaback girl? I then wondered what on earth a hollaback girl really is, but knew I was not supposed to aspire to be one, because I dont want to be bananas. Ladies arent bananas. Then I thought about how wrong it is to hollaback girl shame. Im worried that the year 2005 was way too okay with hollaback girl shaming. Hollaback if you want, girl. You do you, girl. You lookin good tonight girl. Girl, whatchu cookin? Soon later, a young man serenaded me with lyrics from I Will Always Love You as I continued to silently make my long and weary ten minute journey home. I admit to traipsing around dressed from head to thigh in gym shorts and an alluringly baggy, wrinkled t-shirt that I got from an old volunteer trip - cause it felt like a bells and whistles kind of night. And the effort finally paid off. I cannot wait to regale Mother with updates about my new potential suitors. Mother will be most pleased about my progress.
Posted on: Mon, 04 Aug 2014 03:37:38 +0000
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