|Grace and I at Katie’s wedding celebration|
My friend, Grace, once gave me some great advice concerning a relationship I was in that was ultimately befuddling and frustrating at all times. She said, “Beks, you gotta Beyoncé that shit!” What exactly does that mean? I remember looking at her with our other friend, Katie, our heads cocked in unison, furrowed- browed but laughing all the same. The three of us have known each other for upwards of 25 years and we were celebrating Katie’s marriage with friends and family in her mom’s backyard. The three of us hadn’t been together in the same place for a few years but they both know my slightly unhealthy obsession with the all encompassing empire that is Beyoncé. And because we’ve been friends for so long we didn’t need an explanation from Grace as to what she meant. It was obvious. It meant make yourself better, take advantage of happiness, dance your little heart out. It was a little over a year ago and I often think of Grace’s advice. Mostly, it makes me laugh out loud. And mostly I’m alone when this happens, so naturally there’s always someone nearby looking at me like I’m a lunatic, sitting on the beach or at a café sipping an iced coffee giggling alone. When life brings me lemons, I don’t make lemonade, I listen to Beyoncé and dance until my tank top is soaked in sweat, be it alone in my kitchen or out at a bar. I also sing it at the top of my lungs but that is exclusively when I am alone. I have respect enough to spare others sore ears.
|25 years of friendship between the three of us|
|Pretty sure I was singing along to some R&B, poor Katie.|
I think the vast majority of people would prefer to listen to Beyoncé sing Beyoncé rather than an off-key, never-been-trained-to-sing kind of girl belting out, “Crazy in Love,” “Single Ladies,” or “Love on Top,” voice screeching like the wheels of a car, mirrors cracking like when you throw a heavy rock on a puddle that has frozen over. I think I even got rid of the mouse problem I had in my last apartment as one night I sang along to an entire Beyoncé album and miraculously, mice didn’t appear for quite some time after that. I imagine them nestled in the insulation, licking their little paws after crawling all over my bacon grease laden cast iron skillet. Cue in my signing along to the album, “4,” and they all pause, look at one another and say aloud, “Dude, it’s time to bask in someone else’s bacon grease,” or “Dude, let’s hit up the karaoke bar, it’s bound to be better than Bekka’s off key non-melody.”
|Even better than a G&S is a simple C….(coconut)|
I cap it at two gin and sodas with a lime, I drink for the flavor of something these days. I don’t drink alcohol to get toasted, much less even a buzz. Gin and tonic’s are a drink of the heydays for me. You can’t taste the gin with tonic, the quinine masks all, so for me, I prefer the soda water. I want that botanical juniper goodness permeating my esophagus with a little effervescence and a whole lotta lime. I don’t use a straw; I squeeze two or three limes into my gin and then line the rim of the glass. Hello summertime (and because it’s always summertime here, I indulge in my favorite, yet simple cocktail often), I do miss being able to say, “Let’s go out for some G & T’s,” because most people understand that term. When I say, “Let’s go out for some G & S’s,” most people look at me the same way I imagine they’d look at me if they heard me singing Beyoncé in my car with the windows rolled up; part confusion married with disbelief and a questioning look.
|Cloud 9 is out there as well as 10, 11 and 12|
Disclaimer: I deemed it appropriate to spend an hour youtubing Beyonce videos for the links I provided above. It was research and development for this post, not procrastination.
|Step into my office…|