I Love Lucy: 2017 Edition

As was Lucille Ball, I am typically considered one of the best comic minds of my generation. Do I have a television show? At the moment, I do not. But c’mon, look at all these comedians getting all their TV shows, it only makes sense that I’d be offered one too, am I right? This is an example of my generational comedic talent when I can craft a sentence like that. Was this blog post supposed to have a point? I’ve already forgotten because I’m been blowing so much smoke up my own ass that I think I’m poisoning myself. Another example of a perfectly crafted comedic sentence of excellence. Let’s not focus on me though. Let’s not focus on me because, for the first time in a long time, I am not alone. I am not alone in the sense that a friend of mine thought it would be a good idea to spend a month of her own young, vibrant life to come to the hub of American racism and spend a month in the “great” state of Alabama. I could probably write an entire blog post wondering why she would ever consider the company of me, and especially the company of me while residing in the state of Alabama to be worth spending a day with, let alone a month, but that isn’t the point in this post. That’s just what I ask myself every single night before I go to sleep.

Wait, I Love Lucy though right? A show I objectively know next to nothing about. Which means I’m obviously and most definitely going to compare my current living situation to it. As aforementioned, I am most definitely Lucy. She’s the star, she’s feminine, she teases Ricky Ricardo about his accent and mispronunciation of the English language, and she has a way of igniting that Spanish fire in her partner. I’m also realizing as I’m wondering what to type for the next line that are things that I’m wondering if I should say or not because they feel weirdly personal to me. Or maybe it’s because they were things I intended at compliments at 2 in the morning, things I considered very deep, mystifying beautiful words that were just met with laughs and strange glances. Wasn’t I just going to write about the first week that we shared together and the experiences that were had that would make for a good story? That makes a lot more sense than trying to dive into my own interpersonal feelings that are meaningless to anyone outside of the realm of me. I will; however, just say that this Spanish chica does have a habit of agreeing with me on thoughts, or even speaking words and phrase that I thought I had coined and were unique to me and uses them like it’s nothing. It’s like she’s read a handbook full of my personality quirks and adopted them as her own when I thought I was setting myself apart from the pack with a lack of conformity. So either she’s much weirder than I thought, or I’m just normal as heck. Or maybe I’m a secret Spanish. Or maybe she and I have rubbed off on one another and crafted some personality amalgamation. All I know is that she pulls it off and rocks it a lot better than I do.

Oh right, a huge week happened too that I could probably discuss and let people into my interesting life. Hmm, let’s just give a quick rundown. Effy dropped her phone in a toilet and she lost all connection to her Spanish life. I dropped my wallet on the ground at a restaurant and had it thrown away because my fashion choices are trash. I did get the wallet back at least after an old bald man dug around in the garbage for me. There were lots of long car drives due to picking my friend up from Atlanta, then decided two days later to drive to Panama City Beach and spend a couple of days there. Uh, the city of Ponce De Leon is haunted and no one should ever go there. It’s where Effy damaged her phone and where I hit a deer while driving on the way back. Oh right, I also hit a deer, a baby deer while driving back from Panama City. Nothing more traumatic for a person than a sweet, international girl pointing out a baby deer on the side of the road and calling it Bambi and then having it immediately proceed to sprint and jump into the middle of the road where the driver has no time to stop and drives straight through it. Looking back at what I’d done (while screaming Jesus!) in the reWhiar view mirror is something I wish I hadn’t done. I mean, sure, I imagine plenty of things have happened and I know they have because we discuss them every night and how hectic the first week has been and all of that. It’s just as I’m writing this now, it’s harder to convey all of that because I think it’s getting better. Effy has a phone, she’s connected to the world again. I’ve convinced myself that that was a suicidal deer with a death wish due to all of the guilt it had from murdering a separate deer family and that I did the world a favor. It’s just so many things have happened, so much drama has occurred, but tonight I can just think that everything is going well, that we’re finally settling down, it’s all smooth sailing. Honestly, though, that’s really what it all comes down to. I’m just so glad and happy that my friend has come here and decided to have this stay of vacation with me. I won’t get cheesy with the details, but it’s just nice to have such a dear, close friend and just hang out and enjoy one another. It’s a girl I’d only met for a few days over two years ago and somehow, even living in two different continents and vastly different time zones, we’ve managed to speak almost every day, we’ve managed to be there for one another, and we’ve managed to truly grow and appreciate one another. I’ve changed, she’s changed, things have happened, life has happened, and throughout it all, we’re still in each other’s lives and I think we’re both better off because of that. I don’t mean to write a sappy emotional thing, I’m just grateful to have her in my life. Even though I’ve been more argumentative in this last week than the last year, even though I have to wear pants around the house more often, and man, it’s hard to even think of actual complaints without making them inside jokes that no one would understand. All I’m saying is that I’m very glad to have someone around that agrees that all girls in the city of Tuscaloosa look like they’re wearing clothes that are pajamas no matter what the social circumstance, and someone that’s reminded me that Alabama is no cultural hub and I may owe it to myself to find somewhere that fits my own sensibilities more. I don’t want to ramble on and on about my own feelings because for one, no wants to hear that, and for two, it’s much more interesting and entertaining to label me as a deer murderer. The moral of the story is that the new Spider-Man was really great and don’t forget to eat your vegetables. So it goes.

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