On Sleep Talking.

June 16, 2013 - And I ain't worried about a damn thing, with unconditional love.
He sleep talks. It's sort of fun to listen to him. It's even more fun to talk with him.

Every time he wakes up, I get all excited that maybe he's remembered the conversation he's had with himself or with me. (Mostly because sometimes they're really bizarre.) But he doesn't. He never remembers.

This weekend, while he was napping and I was cleaning up, he started mumbling. That's how it always starts. With a little mumbling. I scoot over to where he's sleeping to listen. Because it's always fun!

Him: (mumble-jumble)
Me: What did you say?
Him: Yeah.
Me: Where are we today?
Him: At the ends of the earth.
Me: (HAHAHAHAH) Oh yeah? Why?
Him: I would chase you there.
Me: (BAHAHHAAHHAHAHA) Rearrry??? WHY!?
Him: ...
Me: (ROLLING ON FLOOR LAUGHING) REARRRRYYYY RUKU??? That's scary.
Him: Fool, I would follow you to the ends of the earth.
Me: (DEAD FROM TOO MUCH LAUGHTER) Awww, boothang, that's sweet.
Him: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Actually, he did remember once. But he was in between unconscious and almost-conscious, homeboy out of nowhere asks whether or not I was playing League of Legends on safe mode or regular. I don't even play League of Legends...this guy.

I'm Not a Loser, I'm a Quitter!

When we were kids, my brothers hated it when I would beg them to restart Mario Kart games because I'd be in 6th place within seconds of beginning the game. I was always button-happy and I remember once, one of them told me that I shouldn't even be playing Mario Kart if I didn't know how to get out of 6th place. He only needed to tell me once. I stood up and dropped my controller in true mic drop style.


I stopped playing Mario Kart for years. Decades. The few times I have played since then, I just try to get the banana peels so I can follow other people and throw it up ahead of me so other racers will slip. Haha.

I also hated Rainbow Road.


But why, you ask? Why did I quit so easily? Well, I'm glad I pretended to ask a question you may or may not have been curious to know. Homie, because, I'm the worst sore loser ever in the entire world. It's a sickness. I mean, I think I'm getting better. I hope I'm getting better. It helps to have friends who are just as competitive love to see me lose. But real talk, I'd rather quit before I lose. Once I'm not within view of first place, it's not even worth it anymore. Let others win it. They deserve to shine once in a while. And, chances are, I probably didn't want first place hard enough anyway.

To those who have been friends with me long enough and/or have had the privilege to see me act like a crazy woman at holiday parties, I am not sorry for always needing to win our Taboo games. Can we start a Taboo team? I bet there's a league in the city we can sign up for. I We could beat all the other mofos and take home bragging rights!!! Get at me if you're serious.

On Nekkid Dancing.

At the grocery store a couple nights ago:

"Are you sure it's her?" said a woman.
"I'm pretty sure. Those are her shorts..." said a man.
"Well...what are you going to do?"
"I don't know..."
"Go talk to her! It won't hurt."

They were whispering. Loud whispering. I just wanted to look at tuna. The next thing I knew, the man's hand reached out and grabbed the tuna can I was looking at. Of all the cans on the shelf of that empty aisle, he grabbed the can right in front of me. No tact.

"Hey, cool. Are you shopping for food?" he asked.
"...Uhh yes."
"Tuna?"
"........Yes?" I put down the can of tuna and walked into the next aisle. I didn't even really want tuna that badly. He followed.
"For dinner?"
"I'm sorry...can I help you?"

I turned to him but couldn't look him in the eyes. So I looked at his t-shirt. It was green. But then before I let him answer, I walked away into the meats aisle. I don't know why I did that. I should have just walked away without saying anything. What was I even thinking??

If I had just ignored him, maybe he would have left me alone.

"I'm-sorry-I-didn't-mean-to-be-weird.It's-just-that-I'm-so-nervous-and-I-don't-know-what-to-say-or-talk-about-so-I-say-weird-things.Sorry.It's-just-that-I-told-myself-I'd-talk-to-more-women-this-year-and-my-sister-said-it-wouldn't-hurt-and-it's-just-that-I-never-do-these-kinds-of-things-but-you're-going-to-think-I'm-weird-because-I-don't-know-if-you-know-this-but-I-can-see-you-when-you-dance-around-your-room-naked-well-except-for-when-you-dance-on-your-bed-because-then-I-can't-really-see-you-anymore."

WHAT? Dear lord. All in one breath.

"And-you-dance-really-well."

STOP. Just stop. No. No more. Stop before I die.

"Oh-and-you-don't-look-like-what-I-thought-you'd-look-like." Then he awkwardly smiled.

Okay. Over the top. Done. Dead. I am dead.

I remember putting a thing of beef into my basket, paying, and floating out of the grocery store like a ghost. It all happened so quickly.

* * *
All I really heard was "you dance around your room naked." I was stress-sweating on top of sweating I was doing because it was a hot day. It was uncomfortable.

I've always wondered if people could see me from my fourth floor apartment. The street below is pretty wide so I just assumed that if they could see me, it wouldn't be clear. At least not clear enough that they could tell what kind of shorts I wear.

This isn't going to stop me from dancing around naked. I guess I'll just have to do it with my curtains down. In the dark. Sad.