run of the mill.

31st

Beyonce got back into her 2007 black Hyundai Santa Fe and pulled from the curb. She was proud every time she drove it. Something she'd paid for. Her very own car. It was the only thing that she'd own, bought, and paid for all by herself. Her very first personal investment. Sure it was no Benz, but it got her from point A to point B whenever she needed it.

She pulled into traffic and went a couple of exits down to meet Farrah and her sister Diamond at Diamond's house. She was nice. Diamond was that loud, suggestive, but caring and emotional friend that everyone brought along when they wanted a good laugh every now and again. She took things seriously when she needed to but she treated life like one big joke and it is secretly refreshing to the people that call her loud or immature. Those are the people that wish they could say all the things that Diamond says to someone.

Beyonce parked her baby up the street since this was more of a family affair and walked the short distance to the house. It was a fairly large place and only served to remind Beyonce that she needed to call her real estate agent and see if she was approved for her home owner's loan. She needed to get a place. At lease a back yard for Jamie. That small apartment was perfect when she was an infant but Jamie was starting to get restless and Beyonce needed space for her to run herself ragged and pass out like she often did.

Beyonce entered through the side gate where there were a few people staked out talking and laughing with one another. She ignored the obvious stares of the men that thought they had a chance and grinned politely as she passed. She stood on her tip toes and spotted Farrah just as someone was coming to her side to introduce himself.

"Thanks for coming," Farrah said giving her a light hug and passing her a cup of what Beyonce discovered to be lightly spiked punch. Beyonce sipped it appreciatively. "I love my family like I love my birth control shot, once every three months and in small doses."

Beyonce giggled and looked around. Farrah's family was huge and most of them lived in Florida. Hell half of them lived in walking distance from one another. They were a really close-knit group of people and they always had some sort of function of acknowledge someone accomplishments. This one was for Diamonds youngest, Ahmad, who turned three today. Beyonce spotted him briefly running somewhere with a bunch of other kids.

That boy was really a sweetheart, shy as all get out but the nicest little booger around.

"Where's Diamond?" Beyonce asked.

"Running around here tryna organize shit," Farrah said shaking her head. "She better than me, I'd give these hungry negro's a pack of weenie's and a 24 pack of water and tell them to kiss my black ass."

Beyonce giggled.

"What?" Farrah went on. "I ain't got time for this shit. I'm waiting for the moon bounce to clear out."

"You gon' get yo grown ass in that thing?"

"Hell yeah, you coming too."

Beyonce shook her head. "Nigga, please."

Farrah grinned until she spotted a slightly older man heading over to them with a beer can in his hand. "Oh hell," she said rolling her eyes openly. "Here comes Uncle James tryna spit game."

Beyonce grinned until she remembered she was the target. "Oh damn. I'm going to the kitchen."

Farrah almost spit up her drink. "Don't leave now he saw you!"

Beyonce put her purse in her seat and made a speedy but cool escape. She walked to the open sliding door and slipped inside, mumbling a meek 'excuse me' as she went past people. She found the sink and looked out the window just in time to see one of Farrah slap the hand of one of her teenage cousins that tried to touch her purse. Beyonce laughed and started to wash her hands because of the sticky drink she'd spilled on them trying to get away.