Butterflies

It’s 8:51 and I’m pacing my floor. Psuedo is on his way to town. Actually, he’s probably already IN town. And I’m all little bit anxious, you know?

Okay that’s bullshit.

I’m nervous like a hooker taking an AIDS test.

Seriously.

Like my hands are trembling. Sure, since I left DC me and Psuedo (who I can no longer call Psuedo as he has been upgraded to boyfriend status according to him) we’ve traveled to see each other. But now it’s just me and him.

Alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll weekend.

Oh, and also, my closest family that is most important to me in the world including my favorite aunt and my most overprotective godfather second only to his brother, the crazy baby of the family who told me I was too pretty to ever cry and if I did he would make sure that the person that made me cry would never blink again.

A lot, right?

We’re driving to New Orleans to see my family. He’s gonna meet the extended family, not the crazy ones (that’s for well into marriage with ANYONE), and it’s gonna be just us all weekend. Not with friends, not sneaking around, not catching a few hours in between events.

Just.
Us.

I’m trippin’, I know. But real talk, it’s been quite some time since the last time I was somebody’s girlfriend and well, we all know how that worked out for me. (And if you don’t catch up on the archives.) I know Jam is gonna tell me to man up, and Joy is gonna be all awww that’s so sweet and Shani is gonna call me strange and Wise is gonna make some smart ass remark. But seriously. your girl is worked up.

So worked up in fact that I’m pretty sure I’m late for picking up The Great Houdini from the airport.