The Barbecue

So there was this barbecue. Actually I didn't find out about it until after the event. That's right; this girl was not invited. I couldn't figure out why. 
It made no sense, especially because that annoying girl (let's call her Sara) was invited. My brain was nearing exhaustion, having churned through all the scenarios in which I could have accidentally offended my friend. I mean, come on. We don't even like Sara! [No offense, Sara. But you were a snob and what do you have against sharing your markers? Rude.] 

Finally, I just had to ask the question... Why wasn't I invited? 

"Sorry. I couldn't invite you because my grandparents are racist."

And that's when I became a vegetarian.




... Just Kidding. There were plenty of meat eating years after that.  

The Cheerios Commercial

My work arrival is a practically a set routine; I come in, put away my lunch, make an iced coffee, then I click my web browser to scroll through some MSN headlines. And because I am who I am, I like to take the daily poll. Today's poll focused on the recent mixed-race family in the Cheerios ad. 

[Link to YouTube page]

Cheerios announced that they will not be pulling the ad, despite the controversy. Apparently the YouTube comments were heated with a race debate before they disabled the comments. It's amazing that this is even a debate. Mixed families do exist! For starters, there's my family. Then I have to mention that this is a country where our president is the product of mixed-race parents. 
And last but not least, the Cheerios girl is adorable! Who cares what her parents look like? 

Bravo General Mills! 

The Winery

When you find yourself in a beautiful countryside filled with vines and fine wines, you (obviously) decide to indulge in the wines from the vines. In town for a wedding, my friends and I decided to take a winery tour. Why not? Our tour guide is an older petite lady with short gray hair. It's a fun tour, as she tells us all about their history and tales of the winery's pet cat. After the tour and tasting, we line up to purchase some of our favorite bottles for future consumption.
As I'm browsing the gift shop with some of my gal pals, the tour guide approaches me. It's small talk at first; and we thank her for the tour. The awkward smiling and nodding begins as she's just standing there. Just as I begin my mental panic to brainstorm a new conversation topic, she asks me if I'm Hawaiian. I giggle with my 'no' response, and she begins to tell us how she used to live there and how my complexion was so similar. I tell her how I've been asked that quite a bit, adding that it's a nice compliment.
[Insert more awkward smiling and nodding] Luckily one of my friends has a rescuing segue; she asks our tour guide about her time in Hawaii. This victory was short lived, as more awkward smiling and nodding fills the shop.
My mental panic returns. Can anyone else feel this tension? Why is she still standing here? Can I just tell her thanks again? Do I walk away? What is happening!?

Her glance turns to me once again, more puzzled than ever.... "Are you Samoan?"

To borrow the wise words from Sir Pain of T (also known as T-Pain), I'm just going to blame it on the alcohol.

Panties and Mayonnaise

I have a friend that hates the word panties; actually I have a few. I don't get it. But don't dare talk about the Victoria's Secret Panty Raid sale! Hopefully this conversation isn't happening when you have to ask a waitress to hold the mayonnaise. Because I have another friend that hates that word too. 

By simply uttering one of these words, it's like someone has placed an ice cube down their backs. Cringing and shivering as you're told not to say that word ever again. 

I'm willing to make the sacrifice to eliminate these words from my vocabulary. After all, I have a word that I hate too. I hate the n-word. It sends chills down my spine, and I feel compelled to tell you that I hate it. Dr. Seuss would probably say it like this;

I do not like it in the street.

I do not like it in the heat. 

I also don't like to eat meat. 

Would you like me to repeat?

I guess the moral of the story is that the world would be a better place without panties, mayonnaise and the n-word. 

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...