Feeling Gangster

Yesterday we went to Detroit. Actually, we went to a wedding in Ohio via the Detroit airport, but since we are failures and don’t have a single picture of the wedding or surrounding events, I’ll have to just tell you about Detroit. And since we only spent 20 minutes there – driving a rented Dodge – I honestly can only tell you two things: 1) The Detroit airport is really nice. Bueno. Si. And 2) Something about Detroit makes you feel gangster. You know, the good kind of gangster feeling. Like - Yo. I’ll listen to preset station #1 in our rental car (station #1, of course being gangster rap) and sing along. And by the off chance that I don’t know every single word, I’ll just make up my own. Really, that was Ryan. He knows about 80% of all the rap songs from the 80s and 90s, and I can usually fill in the blanks for some of the the early 2000s to today. We’re a team like that, yo. And when all of the rapping got really old, we listened to Jar of Hearts probably 17 times.

Here we are. Man it feels good to be a gangsta:

This picture really irritated my sister because she thinks I woke up at 6am to do my hair. Really, our flight wasn’t until 9:30 and this is a super easy hairstyle. I showed her how to do it, but she doesn’t listen.

We had a lot of fun at the wedding. I didn’t know too many people since the groom is a coworker of Ryan’s, but I made fast friends and I want them all to move back to Charlotte. As a bonus, the groom accidentally confused me for his new bride, and he laid a loving hand on my right butt cheek. We had nearly an entire conversation like this until I realized that by the directionality of the hand, it could not physically belong to Ryan, but belonged to the just married semi-stranger standing to the right of me. I asked if he meant to be grabbing my bum, and it was a very confusing and very funny moment – all with good intentions, of course. The bride was beautiful – stunning – so I was flattered to have my bottom confused for hers.