Smitten Over Sushi

Smitten.

That's the word me and my homie of summer 2006 would describe our love lives right now. So I've been scratching my head and smiling a.lot. after hanging with Sherlock(one of our many inside jokes) these last few weeks.

And my optimism in love has been spilling over to others. I had lunch Saturday with one of my mentors and she hadnt talked to a guy friend she was  feelings for in months. She tried calling once after a misunderstanding that was her fault. I told her to call . . .and leave the "why havent called me speech"? for the birds. That isnt gonna get you what you want in the end: your friend back. I finally started reading Steve Harvey's book and I completely agree on sometimes independent women have to remember how to be

 ladies and treat a man like, well, a man. So we practiced the convo. "I havent talked to you" changed to "WE havent talked" with a side of "I Miss talking to you and just wanted to say hello." Who would get defensive with that? No, Im not that wise. A lot of that stayed with me from Susan Taylor last year and she saying how we have to remember to be soft with our men and build them up.

Saturday night was Z's housewarming in BK which only for her would I make that trek! Had fun playing some spades and of course the convo turned to relationships and the fellas breaking down how the break down the Jump Off. The one girl with the ring on it shut it down with a loving smile after her guy went on and on, that he did none of what he was saying to get her. Loved.it.

So yesterday Sherlock taught me how to make sushi . . . no Im not gonna be whipping up spicy tuna rolls for lunch but the whole process is demystified. His recipe for jerk chicken rolls with mango I promised to keep to myself but it was ON POINT. I've been on the prowl for men who cook for work and this brother somehow pops back into my life and can.burn. Im totally going to step my game up. 

I also tried to get to church yesterday but a few minutes late had me outside for 15 minutes till I acknowledged this wasnt going to happen. Guess people thought it was Easter already. The choir sounded good . . ..and I made a note to self to go to the 8am service necxt week. ABout to cross the street to get on the bus, I see Harriet Cole and her daughter on a scooter fly by and smile. Mornings in Harlem.