Southern Comfort

I'm back in Dallas and it feels so good to be able to drive 70 mph again...mostly because driving 70 mph in a 55 (actually 75) gets you a ticket. Ok, let me explain myself. I was hungry. Starving even!! I stopped at Wendy's before leaving town and set out on my way through Kisatchie National Forest. FYI, I rarely ever eat and drive because it feels like it is almost impossible for me not to make a mess when I am already a messy eater. Bib please! I'm driving and feeding my face when a police vehicle going the opposite  direction flashes on his lights. I look down at my speedometer and shit! I was going 75. UGH. My first of many trips back home and I get a ticket. I haven't gotten a ticket in 4 years!!!


I pull out my driver's license and get out of the car. He asks me the infamous, "is there a reason why you were speeding?" I tell him, "I was eating and not paying attention. Sorry" I say sorry because I feel like I am being reprimanded. He sees my Louisiana license and Texas license plates and asks confusingly, "Where are you going?" I say, "to Dallas" and he asks, "why?" Just to let all of you know, I hate the 21 question game. I give short answers because I feel like its none of your business, but I noticed that that is something that my white friends do (no offense to anyone). They always give me more information than I ask. For example, you ask a white person, "how is your day" and they tell you their life story: "Oh I'm fantastic. I went to the grocery store today and picked up two watermelons for the price of one and then had a 50% off coupon for them. I even ran into my high school sweet heart and found out he is divorced. We are having dinner next week and I am really excited about it!" ----- really? I just asked how your day was. I really didn't even care. I was just being polite. So if you find that you are one of those people that do that, just tell the person "fine" next time...even if you aren't. 


Back to the story. I tell him that I am in chiropractic school and this man proceeds to inform me that his wife sees a chiropractor on a regular basis and he goes in from time to time. Asked me what my projected graduation date was, how I got into chiropractic, etc. etc. etc. Yes, the man was white. I politely smiled and gave him all the answers and he finally wrote my ticket. He was nice and gave me one for 68 in a 55 so that my ticket wouldn't be doubled. So I guess patience pays off when you are talking to a nosey cop. I expressed my appreciation and got in my car and drove off. Needless to say, I did not finish my burger. 

Of course I would't give you the important stuff =)

When I get into Dallas I am really excited to see my puppy Kiwi. There is reason for this excitement other than the obvious reasons of she is my "kid". While in Louisiana her aunt Molly sent me this text: 

You almost lost your dog. Apparently she chased a bunny in front of a car and the guy stopped just in time.

Ummmm...Why is she so calm in this text!!!??!!! Why are there no exclamation marks?!!!! I almost lost my KID!!!!! <--- that is how you show expression in text messages people. Not with periods. I had to realize that when I read the message. Molly is a monotone texter. When I told childhood bestie about this incident she texts:

OMG!! You would be suicidal if Kiwi died

Molly should take texting lessons from childhood bestie. And she is right. I would have needed to be on suicide watch. Little Kiwi may be a little shit, but she is a big part of my little heart, and I don't know what I would do alone in this apartment if she weren't around. 

Anyway, my love bug and I ride to our apartment and are super excited to be back. We get out with all our stuff, (I'm carrying everything and that little bitch didn't even offer to grab a bag) and hear a familiar meow. I call out Papaya's name and the meow becomes a howl. Ahhh, the sound of my little kitty. I open the door and leave it open and yell for Papaya to come in. Her bitch ass walks in so nonchalantly as if she were on a business trip for four days. I say hey and she demands food. So I feed the little shit and she acts as if she is starving. You know that, I haven't eaten in four days starving. Yea. Well, don't worry she put all the blame on us. 

Go figure, she's hungry.

She was being so fiesty. Wouldn't let Kiwi play with her, wouldn't listen to me, you know...cat stuff. As I explain to her that this is her own fault. She cuddles up in a ball on the couch and falls asleep. I guess she partied too hard with her other kitty friends this weekend. Tomorrow she will be in for a surprise when she gets outdoor cat shots and an appointment to get her uterus removed pending that the little slut didn't get knocked up. So here I am, eating my left over crock pot lasagna, drinking a beer, and blogging with a kitty in my lap. Now that is Southern Comfort. 

Night y'all!