Posts Tagged ‘Chalmette’

Late Bloomer

Wednesday, May 27th, 2009

I come from a small town- one of those towns where everyone knows everyone, where funerals turn into parties, and where we all keep the same hairdresser we’ve had since we can first remember.

My hairdresser is a family friend, whom lives about 20 minutes past my mom and dad’s home in Chalmette. I live about 2 hours away from mom and dad. So being that I live so far away, when I want to get my hairs all fancied up, I need to go on the weekend. 

Weekends are normally dedicated to Zack. 

Awhile back, I needed a haircut- very badly. The night before, I tell Zack that I need to leave kind of early because of the appointment. Zack, being a trooper, said, “Hey, I’ll take the ride with you.” Word. I like the company on the drive there and back.

So we awake the next morning. I shower, get ready; Zack showers and starts to get ready…

As he’s looking through his closet for what seemed to be quite a bit of time, I finally mention that if he didn’t hurry it up, I would be late for my hair appointment.

His response: “I can’t decide which black tshirt I want to wear.”

Google Me This

Friday, October 3rd, 2008

OK…I just want to know…who’s googling “dating a chalmette girl”? Own up.

That’s really kind of funny.

Do You Wanna Pop?

Saturday, August 30th, 2008

In Chalmette, Louisiana, which is where I’m from, we have what’s known as the “chalmette pop”. The Chalmette pop is a dance that the lil hoochies do when marching in Mardi Gras parades. It goes a lil something like this: they’re marching, they’re marching, they’re marching…then all of a sudden…they stop, they drop it, and they start compulsively gyrating to the booty music blaring from their sound system.

I always, always talk about the Chalmette pop. I always, always attempt to do it…but I’m not quite as good as the lil hoochies we heart so much back at home during Mardi Gras season.

I had just gotten broken up with by a mediocre boy.

Christmas time was soon approaching and that meant parties. Being that I was dumb enough to get this fellow a job at the same company as I worked, I thought a new dress or outfit to wear to the company Xmas party would make me feel better. It was a tough break up, so we still planned on showing up together.

I went to the mall in search of the perfect holiday attire. I walked into the Limited (and this, readers, is why I never shop at stores like this…i much so more rely on vintage stores, and not your everyday run of the mill stores). I start looking around at outfits and dresses. A sales associate walks up to me and asks me if I need help. I was feeling (and probably looking) a little pathetic so I went against my gut instinct and said-yes, i could use some help.

She starts pulling these hideous dresses off the rack, throwing them at me so i can try them on. Of course none of them were my taste. So I figure I’ll just let her pick what she thinks is in season and then do my own thing when she goes away. Negative. 

She sees I’m obviously not a Holly Go-Happy. Takes the pile of clothes from me. Slams them on top of one of the displays. Turns to me, looks me dead in the eye and says “Do you wanna pop?”

I thought to myself…oh my god- did she just challenge me to a pop off in the middle of the Limited?!

So I say, “Did you just ask me if I wanted to pop?” and she replys “Yeah, ya know…like sparkle.”

She should thank her lucky stars that that’s what she meant because every Chalmette gurl loves to pop like there’s no tomorrow.

I ended up finally getting away from her and got this really pretty dress. Very classic, very sophisticated. Very me.

The fella and I, however, decided to go in ugly Christmas sweaters. That trip to the mall was all in vain. I sported my red leather pants, my sex kitten boots and an ugly sweater. And I looked damn fine.