Georgia on my mind

Everytime I see my friend Mary from Atlanta I always end up talking like her. Sadly (well, not really, it was GREAT seeing her), I saw her on the first night of my trip and have been speaking w/a drawl ever since. It DEFINITELY leads to some teasin'. But such is life.

If you're a bit confused that is because ordinarily San Antonians do not speak w/a Southern and/or Texas accent. We speak normally. It's all them weirdo West and East Texans that have an accent. Course if you're from the West and/or Southside of SA you might have an accent, but that is because you're ghetto.

Not poking fun, it's just a reality. And on THAT note, shout out to all my fam on the Westside and Southside.

Holla'!

Moving on.

I am back, y'all. Miss me? I missed everyone. I tried to blog when I could (as you can see), but I really just didn't have the time and/or opportunity. It was go go go while I was there. In the beginning of the week it was work related. The end of the week it was fun related.

Let's see if I can break it down for y'all:
Number of times I got to go jogging/walking: 4
Number of times I almost got ran over jogging/walking: 1
Number of times I fell and scraped the shit out of my knee on the way to the running trail: 1
Number of times I spent sitting in the Goodyear getting verbally accosted (perhaps too harsh a word, but still) by a "crazy": 1
Number of times I hooked up with a hot guy from Atlanta: 0 (boo! hiss!)
Number of hours I spent dancing in Atlanta: too many to count!
Number of pounds I picked up from all the good food I ate in Atlanta: at least 5 :(
Number of times I ate the best omelet ever!: 1 (more on that later)
Number of traffic jams I sat in: 3 or 4
Number of times my cell phone's Google Maps application came in handy: at least 4
Number of chapters I read in the new Harry Potter book: 1 (the LAST one in fact... more on that later, also)
Number of shops I shopped in: too many to count!
Number of times I was called "Shawty": 2
Number of things I left at my friend's apartment that she now has to mail to me: 1 (isn't that enough?!?!)
Number of stitches my friend's dad had to get when he sawed a bit of his finger 10 minutes after I got to their house: 7
Number of times I missed home: also, too many to count!

I don't really "vacation" or "stay away from home" for this long (6.5 days) and believe it or not, I was ready to be back home. Back in my bed/apartment. I had a lovely time and was so excited to see BooBoo and Mary and their friends, but I was definitely ready to come home yesterday.

Of course now I'm back and have a shitload of work to do and a lot on my plate these days, but it is all good in tha hood.

See, I picked up the local language while on my trip. Clearly I have some bilingual skills.