The Shopping Boys

Usually I find Christmas shopping to be loads of fun. But today my enjoyment was clouded with annoyance. 

I realize that Marshalls tends to attract a variety of shoppers. For example, there's me: the young adult female that refuses to pay full price for anything. Then there's your average high school student on a budget. These are my offenders. 

Now I'm going to assume that these two boys were shopping for their girlfriends or perhaps a sister. But here's what I overheard; 

Boy One: So you know how people call white people that wanna be black, wiggers?

Boy Two: Yeah. What is that? I wonder what you'd call a black person that wants to be white.

Boy One: Black. 

As they both laugh, I look up and catch the glance of a middle-aged man with his young son. We shared a look of mutual annoyance. I just wanted to tell those boys to step away from the wristlets. Cynthia Rowley is too good for your girlfriend... and/or sister! 

Who is Black in America?

It seems that this is going to be a very interesting documentary about colorism; who gets to identify themselves as black? Is it the paper bag test? Why should we even let color define who we are? 

Can't wait to watch. 

The Black Woman

I was enjoying an afternoon drive with Sweet Caroline when I saw a BLK WMN parked on the street. You're probably thinking, "Who is Sweet Caroline?'' and "Why are you referring to the black woman as a BLK WMN?" Sweet Caroline is my sweet ride. I named her Sweet Caroline because she's a sparkling Carolina blue. The BLK WMN is not a black woman; it's a car. Specifically the BLK WMN is the license plate.
Let me give you a visual...

I was initially shocked, because I was taught that your car should not identify you as a female in case of sexual assault. (Maybe a little too overprotective.) But then I could not stop thinking about what I would put on my license plate if I were going to identify myself.
So I put together some options...

The Black Joke

My friend has introduced me to this twitter account of anti-funny jokes. I am completely addicted. But I tend to be a big fan of the unconventional. Originally I wanted to tell a pizza joke, but I thought it might be too cheesy. So have a giggle at this one as a piece offering. 

Never mind that blackberries actually grow on bushes... 

Society's Child

Leaving California I was obviously sad to say goodbye to the great weather. But the highlight of my return trip was Delta's in-flight trivia game. Who wrote the song "Society's Child" about an interracial romance? I'd actually never heard it, but I was eager to give it a listen. Janis Ian was only 13 years old when she wrote this song! Such a powerful message for such a young mind. 

 

One of these days, I'm gonna to stop my listening.

Gonna raise my head up high. 

One of these days, I'm gonna raise up my glistening wings and fly. 

But that day will have to wait for a while. 

Baby, I'm only society's child. 

Who hates naps?

The Birthday Boy

I went with some friends to see The Shins in concert. I'll let you decide whether or not that piece of information is significant. But in either case, after the show my friend suggested we go to the bar next door for his friend's 21st birthday. Who doesn't love birthdays? So we went to the bar and fun commenced. 

Who wants to play a game?

That may not have been the exact question posed , but it was something to that effect. The game of Can you guess Natasha's race? began. I shot down the first guess of Colombian. (But I am flattered to be among such company as Shakira.) Then the wide-eyed birthday boy points at me, like a young and drunk Uncle Sam. "I'm from L.A. You're Hispanic!" 

Wrong again...