TEXARKANA MAGAZINE
A fter 25 long years of living under the rule of Mom’s regime, with a brief (glorious) stint in an apartment with walls thinner than my patience, I have officially been crowned king of my own castle. And not only that, but this castle is the house I grew up in, my childhood home. It’s my very own full-circle moment. This house is where I grew up eating Eggo waffles before school, watching Britney Spears on Good Morning America , brushing my Justin Bieber hair for hours, and walking around with my phone incessantly filming all my family members like a documentarian. And now it’s mine. Well, kind of. I’m renting it from my mom. But still, it’s mine. The deal was always that once my mom got married to John, she’d move into his place, and I’d take over hers. Now that she’s off living in wedded bliss, I get to rule the roost. Was it more bittersweet than I had expected? It was. But I’ve waited so long for a place that felt like mine. A place where I can fully just... be. With great power comes great responsibility, and even greater control over the thermostat. So, like any good monarch, I’ve established some house rules for my kingdom. So without further ado, welcome to Bailey Gravitt’s Kingdom. You are cordially invited to stay, just as long as you don’t overstay, because I love to be alone. Rule #1—Granny, I Love You, But You Gotta Call First. My granny is a living legend. She’s an angel on earth. She’s a prayer warrior. And of course, she’s the queen of clean. She’s my neighbor, living right across the street, but occasionally she forgets this is no longer her jurisdiction. So, when I knew the house would be mine, we had a little chat over steak fingers from Dixie Diner. To avoid any misunderstandings, I made sure she understood I love her, but this is my castle now. She is still the best person I know, so of course she’s welcome… she just needs to call first. Rule #2—BYOF—Bring Ya Own Food, ’Cause I Ain’t Got None. I may have upgraded to a house with three bedrooms, but the fridge still screams “bachelor.” I have water bottles in abundance and plenty of plates and silverware, but unless you’re into eggs and almonds for dinner, don’t expect much. If we’re gonna eat, we’re going to Ironwood Grill like the civilized people we are. There will be no dinner parties at this palace. Rule #3—Don’t Touch the Thermostat Unless You’re Paying Rent This house is not a democracy. Everyone knows I like to be in control. Baby, this is a dictatorship. And I’m keeping it at a breezy 70 to 72 degrees at all times. This is not my best friend Alex Ouellette’s house. We’re not going from frozen tundra to tropical rainforest every ten minutes. We’re stable and consistent here. Please be seated. Rule #4—If I’m In The Bath, I’m Off The Clock My friends are constantly complaining about my phone being on do not disturb. To which I say, “You’re welcome.” Because the only thing separating you from a fully unhinged version of me is a solid three-hour bath. The bathtub is my peace. The bathtub is my therapy. That’s where I process life, cry in silence, and write these iconic articles. Do not come over looking for me. Do not text twice. And by all means, do NOT FaceTime me unless you’re in the emergency room. Thank you in advance.
GOOD EVENING TXK COLUMN BY BAILEY GRAVITT
62
SPORTS & ENTERTAINMENT
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs