*begs you not to take her Black card*
Inside the mind of a kind of quirky, pretty stubborn, way too opinionated, twenty-something, heteroflexible Black female newly employed up-and-moved-to-DC Princeton GRADUATE who's just trying to sort out her life. An uninhibited celebration of all that is me, this blog is an exercise in self-discovery and live-with-your-heart-wide-open-ness. Though I make respect a habit, I will not always be politically correct, and I believe in the power of making audiences uncomfortable to inspire change.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I have a confession.
This is something I usually don't tell people, because it's, well, embarrassing. It kind of goes against everything I stand for. But enough sweeping this little problem under the rug and pretending it doesn't exist, I am reclining on this couch figuratively standing up to admit, here and now, that I am a black woman who doesn't know how to braid hair. And I would very much like it if someone taught me, because there are a lot of cute hairstyles I could do if I knew how to add a cornrow or two.
*begs you not to take her Black card*
*begs you not to take her Black card*
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