She walked into the room, following a line-up of young women that I watched from across the room. She, however, definitely stood out, with a fire-red mane, super-fab glasses that hid eyes that I would later find to be too honest for their own good, and a grin that caught my eye because I caught hers. What can I say? I’m kind of amazing. (Actually, as I was introducing myself to the room, I opened my mouth and my man-voice was M.I.A. “I fly like paper, get high like planes…”) I apologize for my shameless plug during my attempt to honor my boo. I also apologize for my failed attempt at false modesty. I AM amazing…like Yeezy and Jeezy.
So…the grin. That grin told me that she “saw” me and said grin also told me (later) “Nigga, I got plans.” But, that story is for yet another day. Over the course of the summer of 2006 and the years to follow Ms. Kholi has made it evident that friendship, love, respect, passion, and total freshness (not like body deodorant, but like “flyy,” the now defunct “swag,” and “bad” like…[Insert Michael Jackson voice here] “Who’s bad?!”) are important to her expression as a woman and as a human being.
I love Kholi because
1. She enables my random ridiculous dramatics (e.g. the aforementioned shameless plug…still many more to come).
2. She is THE only person I allow to call me MIKEY (the way she says it is so CUTE…like me *told you*).
3. She is smart like flash cards and times tables.
4. She sends the best text kisses. I promise you that when my phone receives a Kholi “muah;)”, I know my unlimited daytime minutes are well spent.
5. My mom still calls her “my enabler”; which is really the pot calling the kettle black. Trust me.
6. She wrote in my journal…and I have to admit that I read it from time to time to remember “us and our plans”…cause we got’em, yo.
7. She has a dangerous obsession with shoes.
8. When I told her that I wanted to be a stripper when I grew up, she said no. When I begged and used my charm, she still said no. She’s still saying no as I type this.
9. She inspires me.
10. She told me this, “Mikey, we’re trophy’s.” …and I believe her.
C.Y.T.Kholi, I love you. You’re my girl, sister, lover (of my soul), homie, and friend. I am so proud to label your presence in my life, knowing that none of these words properly express your impact in my world. Thank you and Happy Birthday, ma. You are truly an AUTHENTIC chick.
Love,
mikey
Posts
