I’m not even gonna bother with even attempting a recap because, real talk, do I ever finish them muthafuckas? But I will give you a list of things La has learned this weekend that will hopefully help you in all your future homecoming/life endeavors.
1. You need travel patnahs.
Someone said it this weekend, and I now firmly believe that shit to be so sincere, “homecoming is best when celebrated with one, maybe two people.” This shit is real fuckin’ talk. Over the last few years, the droves in which we’ve ascended on homecoming has now dwindled to a core group of people we hang out with. And even now, that number continues to get smaller. I think alot of it has to do with our personalities changing and our interests becoming different. The important thing about travelling for any reason, with anyone, is that they share your vision of the trip. For it to be completely successful and enjoyable for all, everyone needs to have a clear understanding of the goals and objectives and overall tone of the trip. Which leads me to…
2. I need friends who share my interests.
Or at least my interests in certain arenas. I am multi-dimensional. Ideally I’d love to find someone to go to the Texans/Saints game with and then who would accompany me to see the Houston Ballet’s performance of the Nutcracker the following Thursday. Of course, it is essentially impossible apparently to find all the qualities I am in one other. Which is cool. But when engaging in activities such as those which Howard Homecoming implies, I need someone who shares my interests in such settings. I’m loud. I’m (inconsistently) sociable. People know me and most importantly, people like me. I like to drink. Alot. I like to try new concoctions, and I’m famous for charming up bartenders and running up a ridiculously high tab and paying pennies for it. Every once in awhile, I like to go to the club. And when I do, you WILL notice me. Why? You see that girl right there? In the middle of the floor, her hair pulled back into a ponytail because she’s hot, laughing and dancing to every song the DJ spins? That’s me. And I’m gonna need some partners in crime. You know that schedule you like to keep when you’re outta town? Yeah, La hates that. When I’ve got the away message up on my everyday life, I wanna do whatever I wanna do whenever I wanna do it, however I’d like it to get done, and not neccessarily on a time table. But that’s just La. I roll that way. And I’ve grown up now enough to where if I can’t find anyone to roll with, I’m ok with rolling alone.
3. Gay men make my life complete.
Seriously. Most of my weekend was spent with some of my favoritest kidz and I thank God everyday for them. They are hilarious and intelligent and raunchy and extra and affectionate and witty and loud and ridiculous and fun and thoughtful and spontaneous and tragic and dramatic and fabulous. Sunday I LITERALLY laughed so hard I was damn near hoarse and had to talk at considerably lower decibles than my usual raspy alto. I LOVED every second of it. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. I’ve always had a pretty consistent base of gay male friends in my life because it’s not like being in theater and working in retail affords you alot of straight boy options. But I adore them. And not even because they will help me pick out bras that make my boobs look spectactular in a far too low cut shirt and I don’t have to worry about them scheming ways to hit it later.
4. A well placed bottle of gray goose makes all life’s ills better.
No bullshit. Again, if you aren’t one of those people whom I referenced in point #2 this goes over your head. And that’s fine. But for me, nothing says thinking of you like a personal bottle… or the way too expensive champagne you buy to toast to nothing… or mimosa with brunch… or mojitos with lunch… or martini’s with dinner. (Driving the cute bartender to distraction by doing that thing you do with the olive is optional)
5. Groupies will go crazy over a celebrity in the club.
Lord I swear all groupies should either be rehabilitated or shot, and since I don’t believe in hoes becoming housewives, somebody load a clip. We went to Love Saturday (arguably my fav club in DC) when Diddy was throwing a party. Up on the 3rd floor, while I’m on the floor doing my best to sweat my hair out, Diddy decides he wants to grab the mic and address the audience. Which is cool. He brings out Omarion and Bow Wow (whom I’m convinced are fuckin). Which is even ok despite my intense dislike of the lil one. My issue? The fact that the little bit of air we did have was suddenly overtaken by groupies screaming and clamouring to take pictures with their phones and shit. Then of course comes the choruses of “Oooh girl what I would DO to him”s and “DAMN he is so fine!!!” Really? Omarion “Baby Hair” of B2K is fine? He’s fuckin’ THIRTEEN YEARS OLD you grown ass bitch. Over there. Sit DOWN.
6. High conversations will be the deepest, most thought provoking, funniest convos ever.
Oh you don’t believe me? Take these 2 gems provided by one of my friends after what must have been a particularly potent cipher:
“I don’t fuckin’ believe in dinosaurs. Not one muthafuckin’ place in the Bible have you ever heard of any goddamn dinosaurs.”
But wait. There’s more…
“You know, I bet if you took an ounce of weed and threw it in the air in space, everybody would get high.” WHAT NIGGA?!?!?!?!?
7. Hood anthems set any party off right.
Maybe this is just for me and it completely depends on what you like. But I must admit that at the opening sounds of “I’m so Hood” and “Hood Figga” in the club I was damn near reduced to that hood chick in the club you see that has taken her shoes off to dance to a song.
Almost.
8. If you stay up til about 6 or 7, you can catch all the people coming back from creeping and sneaking.
HA! NOTHING is better than the Parade of Shame. Don’t act like homecoming ain’t prime time for random hookups. Hell, staying up and chilling on the Yard around this time when we were still at Howard proved this exhibit to be quite hilarious, but for homecoming it is turned up a notch. You know how it goes. Just go post up somewhere, the lobby of your hotel, the hottest after hours spot, and watch that chick that walks in with her hair still combed but just a lil… played in and pulled. Or take a second to check out that two sitting in the corner, huddled over their table, their convo barely audible, eating like they haven’t eaten in days. Yeah. You know what was up with them just probably about an hour ago. I live for that shit.
9. You cannot judge someone by their homecoming persona.
You really shouldn’t be judging anyone, but homecoming isn’t a good time to make decisions about anyone. I am sure my scandalous ass club outfit that actually required the purchase of a special bra to compliment the ensemble because you would be seeing so much of it would lead many to draw incorrect conclusions. Just like I can’t assume the chick I heard getting banged in the bathroom at Love was a hoe. It’s just homecoming. People sometimes get a little (too) extra.
10. If you spend all weekend texting, you WILL get talked about.
Without fail. My peculiar phone activities were well documented and discussed. Just a note, if you’re trying to keep your shit from nosy ass friends, put a code on your phone so when your friends try to creep your shit to see who you’ve been talking to, they can’t access any info. Follow this with a cuss out when you recognize what they’ve done.
11. Sometimes the best revenge is knowing you could have done something vicious but chose not to.
And subsequently, it shows alot about your character as well.
12. You really need not try to break in new heels at the club.
I tell myself this all the time. I never listen. I will be sidelined in flats and Forces for AT LEAST a week.
13. Bitch is quite possibly the most versatile word in the English language.
Seriously. It’s a sentence unto itself. It’s a period. It’s an exclamation point. It’s an adjective. It’s a verb. It’s a stroke of red across an otherwise black and white sentence. I use it quite frequently. And all in love. Unless of course you’re the bitch I cussed out in Adam’s Morgan.
14. The key to anything can unlock alot more than a door.
15. You never miss the life you built for yourself until it’s not yours anymore. *sigh* And thus commences the begininng of loser week…
Liquor, Loans & Love 