Mo Hair!

Hey guys, sorry it's been a few days since the last post...I'm still living, I promise. The problem is this was my first week of being done with work and I took the opportunity to catch up on my school work. However, things have still been developing, as usual. Okay, here we go:

Alkie Front: Talked to my RA yesterday and she was very supportive in knowing what was going on between the alkies and me. Actually, she doesn't really care for them and I think she was kind of thrilled that I had cursed IT out....Anywho, the drunks and I still aren't speaking, and one night PG said to IT (who was lying on our futon), "Okay, I'm going to sleep in my own bed tonight, I mean it. " The way she said it let me know she was giving me heads up. Then she added, "See? I made my bed as an incentive...." Huh. I didn't even know she knew big words such as incentive, but nonetheless, she ended up coming into our room around 8:30 in the a.m. and slept until 10. She's a trooper, that PG.

Boyfriend Front: You know, in my past posts I haven't said to much about what's happening currently with Boyfriend, but as Mama always says, "No new is good news." He's doing fine, still supportive and loving. And very horny.....

Saved Sinners Front: I've never cried in front of the Saved Sinners. Never. It's like, a sign of weakness or something. Early this semester, I slipped on ice and banged my knee pretty badly. After being out of commission for about a week, I ended up healing enough to limp around campus and return to class. After about a month, I was back in the club. However, ever now and then my knee will let me know that it wasn't happy about our fall, and swell. The other day, my knee was hurting so bad that by the time the day was over I felt like I was going to pass out. I got take-out for dinner, took the campus shuttle service back to the dorms, and was about to limp my pathetic butt in bed when I received a text from Denouncer, saying, "Hey, we're all in the cafe, you should come down."

I don't know what possessed me to respond saying I'd be there in a minute (maybe it was the pain), but the next thing I knew I was sitting in a chair, attempting to pull myself together while 16 (count em, 16) of black girls, including the Sinners, sat at the next table laughing and having a good time. Instigator and Denouncer were sitting right by me, but Denouncer wasn't paying attention to me. Instigator, however, sees everything, and immediately asked, "You okay?" That was about as loving as she was going to get. I nodded, put on a brave smile, and continued to try to eat my shrimp. Suddenly, tears began to fall and I tried to turn my head away to cover myself. In the end, the tears wouldn't stop, so I hastily threw on my coat, grabbed my food and bookbag, and tried to walk. I made it two steps away before I almost collapsed, and began sobbing sitting halfway in a chair. My knee had finally won.

Readers, here's the kicker (excuse the pun): Out of 16 girls all watching me, no doubt, only Instigator got up and helped grab my things and walked me back to my room. Sure, it was for pure gossip purposes (she kept asking me if I was all right, and then would hint that she was sure it was something Boyfriend had done because in her experience, all girls ever cried about like that was guys...ugh), but still, at least shes had a little human in her at that moment. The rest just watched me for a moment and then kept on laughing and joking as if I hadn't damn near died next to them. Well, you can't beat honesty, can you?


New Friend Front: All right, technically she isn't a new friend, I've been kicking it with her since the beginning of the semester. However, it seems like we've been friends forever. She's older (score 1) and she's mature (score 2). Also, she likes the same goofy things I do (for example, next weekend we're going to the zoo). So, for blogging purposes, I will call her Amiga, because she's from my Spanish class.

Hair Front: I've had about 12 orgasms over my hair since the last post, because I've taken out my braids and am rocking it natural for now. I twisted it last night and wore it in a twist out this morning and received tons of compliments on it. Keep checking future posts for more details on how black girls rock their natural curls! :)

Okay, so my eyes aren't 100% better, and I think my optometrist might shit goose eggs if I continually strain them now, so I'm going to sign off. Hopefully next week I can get into the swing of blogging again. Till then!

Monsters-In-Law

To be completely honest, I don't remember how Boyfriend asked me to meet his folks. It seems like one day we were eating at a really expensive restaurant, and he was doting on my every whim, and the next, I was sitting in his living room, with my Ms. America smile on, trying to impress two strangers.

To answer the question of what nationality he is: he's half Arabic and half white. His mom is white and his dad is a full blown Middle Easterner (dark skin, hairy, large mustache, you get it). The results were a Greek God.

Before I go on, I must say that I'm back in another part of the Midwest, where the cows roam and my parents live, on Spring Break, and I used to go to a high school entitled Valley High. So, in grand tradition of the Valley girls, I'll tell the story in their fashion.

Soooo, I'm totally sitting on this couch across from his 'rents, and like, his mom is asking me a million questions! I mean, like, everything! But she's totally interested in my what my parents do, and like, I felt like I should have totally gave her two copies of their resumes, you know? And the dad is this TOTALLY non-concerned guy with a big mustache who's just sitting there, you know? Like, hello??? Is anyone there, lurking behind the facial hair??? And, I'm soooo good at telling when women don't like me, right? So, I look at the mom, she looks at me, and I. Just. Know. Swear to God. I just know! She's hates me! I haven't even, like, DONE anything wrong, and she totally hates me! And Boyfriend? He's just sitting there with a big ole smile on his face, totally not realizing that I'm being GRILLED by his fake-smile-wearing mother. Ugh! OH MY GAWD!

Yeah, the mother definitely had some issues that any woman could have figured out. She was jealous of this girl that her son had brought home. Turns out, Boyfriend was (and still is) the lackey in his family. He was the sister's best friend (because he really didn't have any friends of his own), and the mom's...this sounds weird, but it was like the mom needed attention. And since the dad wasn't all the receptive, she depended on Boyfriend. He really didn't have a social life, and this made it easier for the parents to keep track of him. And they were very used to telling him what to do with his life and how.

Thus, when I came along, things were turned upside down. After about 6 months of dating, we exchanged promise rings, much to the parents' horror (my parents were curious and amused, but not outraged like his). Around this time he started saying "I love you" to me on the phone when his parents were within earshot. After 9 months of dating, his mother went through his things during one of his breaks and found condoms. I was then bumped up from being the "threat" to the "whorish threat".

During the 2 years that we've been together, I've heard of some of the things his mom has said about me, including one time when Boyfriend had used the family's van to take me out. The next day, the mom got in the van, took one look at the driver's side window, and said, "Oh, here's a grease spot...was Girlfriend in the car?" Ouch. They refuse to call me his girlfriend, opting for "visitor", "guest" or "friend". She's made more backhanded racist remarks than I care to admit and Boyfriend has eventually stopped telling me because it makes me upset. They fought before I arrived on the scene, but now Boyfriend has a new motivation when an unfair remark is made about me, and they don't like it.


All in all, most people ask, "Why are you still with him?! I would have ______ [fill in the blank: killed him, killed the parents, left and wrote hate mail, ect]!" I have no clue. I just love him. And I'm tough and smart. That's the #1 reason the mom hates me. She may have had the upper hand with Boyfriend when he was single, but he has a new woman in his life that supports him in what he wants to do, respects him, and provides killer orgasms. She has a snowball's chance in hell....

Wait, he's not black?!

Gather round, boys and girls, and let me tell you a story of mistaken identity. One full of the mysteries of the Wild Wild West, gun fights, whorehouses, lots of tobacco and rotten teeth.


Okay, maybe not all of that, but definitely mistaken identity. I met my boyfriend at work almost 2 years ago, by complete accident: I was simply standing in the elevator, waiting for the doors to close and he caught my eye. I immediately became excited because I had just broken up with a creep that happened to be my neighbor a few months earlier, and I was ripe for a booty-call. Also, I was a virgin and very, very horny.

Anywho! I sprinted out of the elevator, name-tag flapping in the wind and rushed back to my area, where my co-worker was.

"Oh my gaaawwwd," I gasped, partly because Boyfriend was so hot and partly because I've always been about 10 pounds overweight, "I just saw the most amazing looking guy!" My co-worker glanced over at me with raised eyebrows, and said a few things to the guy she was on the phone with (one of her many baby-daddies, no lie).

"Who?"

"This light-skinned black guy from upstairs in the men's department (I worked in a clothing store)!" Co-worker immediately got excited and tried to convince me to say something to him. She, along with another co-worker, had been trying to help me get laid for about 7 months, with no hope in the horizon. So, the fact that I had a potential penis prospect was promising (try saying that 7 times).

Co-worker (who, mind you, was about 33) straightened her back, put on her determined face and went upstairs to check out the hottie. On her way back down, she informed me, "Girl, he's not black! He's Italian!"

"What?!" I said, surprised. "He's not black?"

"Naw girl," my co-worker said, laughing and getting back on the phone.

For the next two weeks, I made sly glances and sudden appearances in his apartment. I have a thing for hair--it's one of my many weird fetishes. And Boyfriend was as hairy as they come while still looking clean. He had this incredible, thick and long curly hair that was pulled back into a pony tail, olive skin, a neatly trimmed beard, and he (at the time) worked out, so his was quite fit. I also made friends with his sister, who was a spitting image of him with boobs (I don't know if that's a compliment or not...). After a while, I told her I was interested in him, and she passed along the message.

It is also VERY IMPORTANT to note that during the scoping out period, everyone guess what nationality he was. I received Mexican, Black-n-White, Indian, the list goes on and on.

The full story is too long for a blog, but I will say that my friends had to approve, and one day all 10 of them (boyfriends included) decided to make an appearance in his department, giggling and pointing. Awkward on a cold platter, anyone?

Finally, I made my way over to him head on, looking like the Chocolate Diva that I am. The first thing out of my mouth was, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

He leaned over his counter expectantly. "Yes?"

"....can I touch your hair?"

He looked crushed for a moment and nodded. I felt up his hair follicles for a moment and then said, "Can I ask you another question?"

He nodded mutely and I asked him out for coffee, which he accepted immediately.


And that, kids, is the story of how we met. Tomorrow, I'll continue on our journey with introductions of his mother, his father, and just how scary a close-knit family can be.