Went out last Friday night with my boyfriend and a few of our friends, in addition to his ex-roommate and the folks he was hanging with that night. We actually had a blast. I absolutely love going out and "shaking my bottom," (as one of my friends so eloquently puts it.) But, shortly before we left, right after I closed out my tab and was heading back to my man, I ran into a very rude dude...
Dude: "So what are you doing dancing all over that white boy?"
Me: "...Because he's my boyfriend." (And I smile...)
Dude: "You trippin'."
Me: "Oh, I don't discriminate... I was already married to a black man..." (And I smiled again...)
Dude: "You trippin'."
At that point I walked away...
Obviously, the "rude dude" was a black man. AND obviously jealous because I wasn't dancing "all over him..." But, I couldn't stop thinking about it and was noticeably bothered. And not really sure why? For as ignorant as it was...it's not like it hadn't happened before. I've learned to deal with it...or so I thought.
Needless to say, we all know how I feel about that issue. No need to rehash. But, it was kind of coincidental, as one of my cousins had just blogged about identity and society's views of black and white and how races mix, rather the issues and/or situations that come of that "mixing"...Etc.
Long story short, I love my man! I wouldn't care if he was green. I'd still love him. Love him, love him, love him.
~This was taken a little after I was seen "dancing all over" my man... ;)~
Thursday, August 17, 2006
I've always been fond of sunrises and sunsets. They all seem to have pretty unique colors and their hues. It always is interesting to me how different the sky looks when you are in different parts of the country...or even the world. And when it comes down to it...it's all the same sky. This morning when I let Midnight (my dog) out I caught a sight of one of the most beautiful skys I have seen in a while. I immediately ran in the house and got my camera and ended up wasting about 10 minutes taking pictures of it. Such a great way to start the day! What do you think?
Friday, August 11, 2006
****This post was inspired by "Art Dog's Life" post entitled "dear teddy*"***
As instructed in "dear teddy*," I gave my teddy bear a hug from dogfaeriex5. :) And as the above mentions, I was inspired to take a photo of him and tell his story.
My teddy bear's name is Teddy. (Obviously, not very original for a 5 year-old.) Nonetheless, Teddy was in fact my second teddy bear and not my first. The first I had when I was 4 year's old. I used to carry him around with me everywhere...and don't even remember whether or not he even had a name. But, he was a smaller bear, that would just fit in my 4 year-old arms. At that time, we were living in a complex of apartments in Westerville (as I was told.) I remember the complex vividly...how green everything was, (the grounds were maintained well,) and we all had patios enclosed by wood privacy fences. In the days when it was safe to run around without too much parental supervision we literally would bounce around from one apartment to another and play in the yard. There were so many of us kids that everyone's parents trusted the others to keep and eye and they always knew where we were. Our ages ranged from 3 - 12. One such kid, (I believe his name was Mikey,) was much older than I and we considered him the neighborhood bully. Not recalling clearly the circumstances that led up to the horrific ordeal, but Mikey and one of his friends somehow got a hold of my teddy bear and ripped him into pieces. Literally. I remember it like it was yesterday. They took him by each arm and just pulled... I can still see his stuffing flying everywhere. What a traumatic experience for a 4 year-old! I cried and cried for days... I was devastated. When I finally got my bearings I remember asking my parents for a new bear. And not just any bear, but "A GREAT, BIG, GIANT TEDDY BEAR." I would imagine that I got obnoxious about it at some point, and even eventually asked Santa for it. (It was summer when the other bear was destroyed...and we actually even moved that fall before my sister started kindergarten.) But, I was persistent. And too my grand surprise Christmas morning, I awoke to exactly what I had been wishing for over the past months... "A GREAT, BIG, GIANT TEDDY BEAR!" At the time, I was 4 days shy of 5 and he was nearly as big as I was when standing (I was only a head taller than he...)
Over the years, I took him very few places around other kids, in fear of something else happening. But, on most family outings to Alum Creek or to my grandmother's, there Teddy was in tow. My mother being as paranoid as she was about us bringing ticks back from the park would always wash him in the washer...and eventually he became flat, yet with very little wear. My brother was born when I was 12 and I remember us giving him a bunch of our stuffed animals (as loners), somehow, Teddy managed to stay on my bed... Shortly after I moved out when I was 18, my mother took it upon herself to restuff him as a surprise and even made him an outfit (of a pair of my little brother's old short...and a vest made by hand.) For the past 12 years, he's been traveling with me through my "adult" life... Always in whatever room I deemed my office, with my other stuffed animals (reacquired from my brother as he got older.) There he sits to this day beside my computer desk, amongst the others and still the biggest of them all...my "GREAT, BIG, GIANT TEDDY BEAR."
Monday, August 07, 2006
So my boyfriend's sister turned 18 on the 1st of August. My little brother will be 18 on the 17 of September. It's amazing how time flies. I remember turning 18 and thinking of all the stuff I could do because I was 18, but the stuff I really wanted to do I couldn't do until I was 21. Unlike my brother, I was 18 most of my senior year of high school... And Leo's sister will be 18 the entire year. Being 18 while you are still in school is the same as being 17. Didn't mean a thing to me. Only that I didn't have to take Driver's Ed to get my license...
But, did you know you can scan alcohol (if you work on a cash register) when you are 18? (I thought you had to be 21.) Some decent (non-fast food) jobs don't even let you work until you're 18. 18 is the legal age to vote...and enlist. So you are old enough to die for your country, but you can't get a drink............... In France, there really isn't a drinking age... You can pretty much drink whenever you want, especially in private. Publically, however, the legal purchase age is 16. (Although when I was there, you could order a happy meal with a beer...) In the U.K. the age is 18. Why is that such a universal number for becoming an adult? Who dictated that?
Alas, I'm still stuck on the time flying part, though. When I was 18, my little brother was 6. 6! So yeah, 12 years have gone by and the only thing I have to show for it is more responsibility and more bills. Turning 18 didn't really change my life. Living on my own did.