Well...

I had every intention on discussing Oprah and how her recent love for Africa compares with those of Angelina and Brad, Madonna and Guy,etc. But instead....all I can think of right now is the following:

I REALLY REALLY love my boyfriend. He's the most amazing human being I've ever had the pleasure of getting to know (and I'm not finished yet). He's like water to a drought, the sun to a starving crop, the yin to my yang, the.....well you all get the picture. I won't get SUPER corny on you. I need him. I'm not afraid to admit that. I'd never tell him that though, that just gives him an open portal to think he can do whatever the hell he wants. Men are funny creatures. No matter how comfortable you get...you must always proceed with caution. Give and inch, they'll take a mile. It's human nature and you can't fault them for it so you have to make it your job to regulate where necessary.The last "union" didn't work because I let him know EXACTLY how I was feeling ALL the time. He knew that I loved him to no end with every fiber of my being...I believe that may have been a mistake. Oops. So this time around I'm trying to do everything the RIGHT way....instead of throwing my heart on the table to be played with. That shit's just not cool.

Holler.

Token Blacks

I swear I'm the Token Negro at work. Should I be ashamed of that? I mean that kind of makes me an Uncle Tom doesn't it? I don't want to be "liked", "accepted", or promoted due to the color of my skin. There's only 3 (maybe 4) people at my job that are Black and then there's about the same number of Latinos and like 2 Asians.....and 2 Indians. So...I'm kinda on my own over here. Everybody there is pretty complacent with being one of the very few of color. But it sits funny with me. It's uncomfortable. I feel like everyone is looking at me and WAITING for me to do something stupid so they can mark me as "another stupid nigga" or tiptoeing around me trying not to piss me off because they think I might be one of those "ghetto Black girls" that fights all the time and acts a fool.
I'm not racist, I'm not prejudice and I'm not the type to discriminate. But when I started to develop this...this...weariness around White people...I began to dislike them. I don't know whether to joke about my color or flip the Jenny-Ann switch. IT shouldn't be this hard...EVER. I should be able to punch the clock...do my work...collect my paycheck...and take my ass home.