Regal Like a Walrus

Susan requested an upload of this photo today. As you can see, she's doing very well in recovery. (And, she's still willing to entertain us all.)

I'm enjoying this look almost as much as I loved the denim jumpsuit.

I can't believe they said I was 29!!!!!!

This is embarrassing, but the Philly news did a story on me today. You can view it at:

http://cbs3.com/health/Health.Alert.Holiday.2.614582.html

I guess it's worth being 29- if it's for organ donor awareness.

Everythings Gonna Be All Right

Today, I received the best present of my life. My friend Vera teaches 3rd and 4th graders in the Bronx and her students sent me a package full of letters and homemade snowflakes. Seriously, this kind of thing happens in real life???!!!! I’m not going to lie. As I thumbed through the sweet, if grammatically incorrect, letters, I shed a few tears. Some of the kids wrote me poetry. An inordinate amount of the children quoted Bob Marely, again? Others drew pictures of me and Freddie and begged to be invited to our wedding. There is only one way I can express my gratitude to these precious and precocious children.

No, woman, no cry, No, woman, no cry;
No, woman, no cry, No, woman, no cry.

Said - said - said: I remember when we used to sit
In the government yard in trenchtown,
Oba - observing the ypocrites
As they would mingle with the good people we meet.
Good friends we have, oh, good friends we’ve lost
Along the way.
In this great future, you cant forget your past;
So dry your tears, I seh.

No, woman, no cry;
No, woman, no cry.
ere, little darlin, dont shed no tears:
No, woman, no cry.

Said - said - said: I remember when-a we used to sit
In the government yard in trenchtown.
And then georgie would make the fire lights,
As it was logwood burnin through the nights.
Then we would cook cornmeal porridge,
Of which Ill share with you;
My feet is my only carriage,
So Ive got to push on through.
But while Im gone, I mean:
Everythings gonna be all right!, Everythings gonna be all right!
Everythings gonna be all right!, Everythings gonna be all right!
I said, everythings gonna be all right-a!
Everythings gonna be all right!, Everythings gonna be all right, now!
Everythings gonna be all right!

So, woman, no cry;
No - no, woman - woman, no cry.
Woman, little sister, dont shed no tears;
No, woman, no cry.

And kids don’t worry; you’re all invited to the wedding…but no alcohol.

Thanks so much Vera.

In Response to Bob

Dear Bob,

So that you have a better picture of who your mother was before she settled into her life of gentle domesticity, my favorite Susan stories involve, in no particular order:

1. The time she ordered 40 buffalo wings at the Arena and serenaded my date with repeated renditions of Tom Jones' "Sex Bomb."

2. The time she pretended to be a Mafia don in Thomas McWilliams' D.C. apartment for no particular reason.

3. Always knowing that Susan is in town for a visit because I wake up to the gentle crunch of Doritos crumbs beneath me.

4. Anything involving hamsters.

5. Being at the lake house with her when Baby Cheeks "became a woman."

6. The hair show she talked me into modeling for when we were sophomores in high school. Due to this, I may or may not have attended my cousin's wedding with purple/maroon hair.

7. Listening to her recount her harrowing walk from the subway the first time she visited my new house in Adam's Morgan. The highlights included a dead pigeon and a projectile loafer.

8. The Lucky Horseshoe in Chicago. I'd say more but Susan might want to return to the practice of law someday.

9. Susan's work for the African-American romance novel publishing company.

10. "The Invisible Child" - I still don't have the closure I need from that one.

- Laurel

Where would I be without my good looks?

I would be on the streets and spreading my seed. Luckily, I have Susan and Freddie to support me.

I've been feeling insecure lately. Please tell me how adorable I am. That's a lie. I know I'm adorable, I just like the praise.

But enough about me. Perhaps I'll start my own blog. This blog is about Susan. I want people to write about their favorite Susan moments. My favorite Susan moment involved a 14 hour drive from Birmingham to Philadelphia. We were both very gassy during the ride, so me not smell so good afterwards. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen Susan since then. Why can't I visit?!

Bob

A Message From Bob

Greetings! I'm new to the world wide web, so "blogging" is very exciting for me. Today was a rough day. Master Freddie did not take me out until 9:15 a.m. this morning. He even had the audacity to brush his teeth before letting me out. I had to hold it in for 12 hours! The horror.

He made it up through heavy petting and excessive Purina One.

I'm at home all alone right now and I want Master Susan to return. I love her very much, despite the fact that I left some poop in her favorite shoes.

I have to get going now. It's hard to type with such short paws.

- Bob

An Addendum to "Project Philadelphia"

Uh, for people that don't know me well - Laurel is kidding about the tube tops. The last time I wore a tube top was at the county fair in 1986 - even then it was a dreadful and inappropriate choice. I was banned from a number of the more exciting rides due to my thoughtless choice of clothing. From that point forward, I always wore swim suits under my t-shirt during county fair time. Nothing could/would stop me from experiencing the Gravitron (Zero Gravity Machine) ... nothing short of gravitation-less vomit. There is no official comment of whether this may or may not have occurred.

As a side note, I have worn a newsboy cap, but not a body jumper. And, Laurel knows that I could never never wear such a thing because of my extremely large torso and abnormally short legs.

*Imagine denim stretch to its breaking point, structurally relying on a camel toe to stop from ripping at the seems. However, imagine the built-in pants being approximately 1.5 feet too long - with my ankle aligned with the cut of the tapered knee ... far from what the original pattern intended.

*Then just imagine the gaping horror of the BEBE salesclerk as I exited the dressing room.

- Susan