Marsha

In three months one of my closest friends, Marsha, will be tying the knot in the land of wood and water, so we (the bride and bridal party) flew to Fort Lauderdale in the hopes of finding a great wedding dress. Our trip was not only full of laughter and shopping, but a tremendous amount of water, as in copious tears. If as many tears are shed at her wedding as were shed by her and another friend when “The Dress” was found, then I’m afraid Jamaica will be flooded.

CNN Anchorwoman: Breaking news: Jamaica is sinking faster than Venice. Sir what are your thoughts?

Man eating a Golden Krust patty in Brooklyn: Yu nuh kno seh is today di one Miss V a guh wed!

The dress was gorgeous, and reputedly so are her cheekbones, as told to her by the consultant at the first bridal shop. All was good, especially since we found the dress after only two boutiques. As mentioned, all was good, but it seems that the bride to be and her fiancé haven’t spent much time apart, and it also seems that they share every detail of their lives with each other. Since Leroy wasn’t there, she felt compelled to share her thoughts with us. I urged her to write him letters, because as much as I love her, I’m as interested in her bowel movements as I am in the Latvian Goat Milk Crisis of 1810. I loaned her a pen and paper, and she started writing:

Dear Leroy,

I woke up this morning at 8:30. It was lonely in the bed without you, well not really since my sister shared the bed with me. I had dried drool on the side of my mouth. I spit on a tissue and wiped it off.

Love,
Marsha

Dear Leroy,

I tried on six dresses today. Some were white, some were ivory. Didn’t we decide French beige would be most appropriate? When I found the dress I loved, I cried like a baby….an ugly baby. Vee told me that I need to perfect the pretty cry or not cry at all. On TV, I saw a woman who cried with just tears streaming, while she pouted. I ordered “The Pretty Cry” video on Amazon for $19.99. Thanks for loving me, even though you’ve seen me cry.

Love,
Marsha

Dear Leroy,

Florida is hot, so all daylong I’ve been craving soft-serve ice-cream. Soft serve soft serve. We went to McDonald’s and bought three cones. Vee almost threw half of her ice-cream out the window, ’cause she said she only wanted a taste; thankfully, Tee screamed “No!” I scooped her ice-cream off with my fingers, and plopped it on my cone. How could she do what she did when there are starving children in this world who would love some soft serve vanilla ice-cream?

Love,
Marsha

Dear Leroy,

I spent three hours in Walmart today. Dee walked out wearing a new wardrobe, and Tee bought plaid shirts for every male in her life (her brother, father, husband, son, gardener, mailman, plumber, you get the picture). I bought a big box of prunes. Big box. Bowel drama soon to be averted.

Love,
Marsha

Dear Leroy,

When I come back home, I’m going to be doing the Insanity workout video. Nards said she’d do it with me for three days, and Dee said she’d do it with me for two days. My point is, please excuse me if I act even more insane than I usually do…it’s all to look good in my deep yellow wedding dress.

Love,
Marsha

Though Marsha’ll be home before the letters arrive, I’m quite sure Leroy will save them, and re-read them everytime she goes away…..to work or the mailbox or wherever.

Oran Juice

Last week, my co-worker Rachelle brought in a large aluminum pan of chicken wing dip. Surprisingly, as much as I’m in love with hot wings (*understatement), I’d never tasted/heard/inhaled/seen/enjoyed the glory that is chicken wing dip. Chicken wing dip is the taste and essence of hot wings in a casserole and served with tortilla chips. She photocopied the recipe for us all, and one day when I visit my mother, I’ll coerce her into baking it (no pots or pans live in my house). The chicken wing dip recipe consists of shredded chicken, the hottest hot sauce one can find, jalapenos, blue cheese, cream cheese (for thickness), vinegar, a dash of salt, and a touch of ranch dressing.

Sadly, I was unable to partake in the heaven that is chicken wing dip (I even like saying it), because only forty minutes earlier I’d visited the dentist and my mouth was numb. Damn novocaine. The casserole looked so scrumptious though that I could taste the chicken wing dip in the hollows of my mind, and that was good enough for me.

On the subject of food, it’s been rainy and dreary the last couple of days in NY, and thus Oran Juice Jones has been on the forefront of my mind. In elementary school, three friends and I created a dance for “The Rain” (actually, they created the dance and I struggled to learn it– took me ten years to learn the snake, enough said). Day in and day out, we listened, sang and danced to “I saw you and him walking in the rain. You were holding hands and I’ll never be the same.” My obsessive personality didn’t start yesterday, it’s been steadily in the making; I say that to say that I became obsessed with Oran Juice Jones’s voice. Day in, day out, OJJ.

I’ve been listening to the song for days, and though I still adore it, and treasure the memories it evokes, I’m listening with the ears of an adult. With the ears and partial understanding of a grown woman, Oran Juice Jones’s monologue at the end of the song borders on cruelty (unless the accused woman in the song is just trifling, and running around on a sensitive, thoughtful guy who’s supporting her, and providing for more than her material needs). However, since all he speaks about is the cost of what he gave her, and how he won’t harm her because of the cost of what she’s wearing, then I’m guessing that she’s not trifling, and he felt his wallet was the end-all, be-all of this relationship.

He says:

Hey hey baby how ya doin’ come on in here
Got some hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you
Listen first things first let me hang up the coat
Yeah how was your day today? Did you miss me? You did?
Yeah? I missed you too I missed you so much I followed you today.

That’s right now close your mouth, ’cause you cold busted
Now just sit down here, sit down here I’m so upset with you I don’t know what to do
You know my first impulse was to run up on you and do a Rambo
I was about to jam you and flat blast both of you But I didn’t wanna mess up this thirty-seven hundred dollar lynx coat
So instead I chilled — That’s right chilled I called up the bank and took out every dime.

Then I canceled all your credit cards… I stuck you up for every piece of jewelry I ever bought you! Don’t go lookin’ in that closet ’cause everything you came here with is packed up and waiting for you in the guest room. What were you thinking? You don’t mess with the Juice!

I gave you silk suits, blue diamonds and Gucci handbags. I gave you things you couldn’t even pronounce! But now I can’t give you nothing but advice. Cause you’re still young, yeah, you’re young. And you’re gonna find somebody like me one of these days . . . Until then, you know what you gotta do? You gotta get on outta here with that alley-cat-coat-wearing, punch-bucket-shoe-wearing crumbcake I saw you with. Cause you dismissed!

That’s right, silly rabbit, tricks are made for kids, don’t you know that. You without me is like corn flakes without the milk! This is my world. You’re just a squirrel trying to get a nut! Now get on outta here. Scat! Don’t touch that coat…

This is kind of an Eve in the garden moment (since I think that she must’ve been cheating for a reason); It’s much more fun without awareness or empathy.

http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/video/x1vu0j?theme=none
Oran Juice Jones – The Rain by jpdc11