I get to hang out with a lot of my family I never see. Which also means I get to hang out with a lot of old black southern people.
Questions I need to prepare answers for:
You got any kids?
You married?
You got a girlfriend?
You live in New York? Ain’t that expensive?
You got a church up there?
Is that all your hair? When you gonna cut it?
What’s that thing in your nose? Did it hurt?
I’m sure I’m missing some. I just wish I’d had the foresight to make a t-shirt that says “I’m an atheist who partakes in gay sex” so nobody would come talk to me.
Maybe I can find some liquor in this house to shove in my coat or something…….
The only way this could be sadder is if Sarah McLachlan showed up to put a one-eyed kitten in that microwave. I never thought a bowl of rice would make me want to go reevaluate my entire existence.
I’m just sitting at my computer and my little desk is under the window. I have to keep my window open because my furnace is permanently stuck on Fourth Layer of Hell. I closed my window and went to work one day, and I came back to melted Reese’s cups and my coconut oil for my hair starting to separate. Ridiculous. Anyway, the window is open and I can hear everything going on across the courtyard.
I started paying attention because I heard this old black lady voice holler, “I don’t care if it drop down to ya dick! It’s hot!”
I might be one of those people because I got into two arguments on the train this weekend. It wasn’t even the same train ride, so I can’t say I was just in a bad mood that day. It’s just really cold and I’m cranky and I don’t have time to deal with rude folks and their attitudes right now.