“Don’t hide behind the couch — I love you!”
This is what I heard squealed in the living room the other day by my roommate talking to her cat. It’s stuck in my head as one of the funniest things I’ve ever overheard in my life, and so, I thought I’d share.
Well, I’ve spent the past 24hours losing weight, and I’m proud to say that I’ve lost about 8lbs since Thursday! Whoo-hoo!
I’m reading the summer reading book, Blood Done Sign My Name, which is oddly about my hometown, Oxford, NC, and a horrible hate-crime inspired murder which occured there in 1970. The street names are exactly the same, the houses are exactly as I know them, and the names have not been changed to protect the innocent. It’s crazy reading a book about your small little town, which everyone says “Is that in North Carolina?” and knowing that now the entire freshman class is going to be familiar with its storied past. Great. The two things oxford are best known for, Tobacco and the Klan. I hang my head in shame. And, I wonder what the author’s purpose was in writing the story. Not that I’m not glad the story is written, I just wonder if, in this tiny town where it isn’t hard to cause someone’s temper to flare, people are going to be mad at one another all over again. I wonder if Tyson plans on bringing attention to what happened in 1970 and try to bring people together, or if he simply plans on reminding people of the racial tension that underlies everything that everyone in O-town does.
Reading this book answers alot of questions for me, because it goes through much of Oxford’s recent history. I mean, I would come along just 20 years later and try to move into the area and find a niche. Its taken me about twenty years to find a place anywhere, and even that’s not a real place.
But it explains so much, like why the pool near my house wouldn’t let my family, or any other black family join. Or why one of my good friends, who was white, expressed discomfort at being the only white person at track practice one day…and why she said it the way she did. (We were outside on the track warming up, and she was like, “I don’t feel like being here today…I feel out of place” and I said “why?” looking around at the other runners. She just rubbed her arm in response, and I wondered how she never felt out of place when I was the only black person sitting at our table at lunch. As though a group of black people automatically meant trouble and somehow, I was the docile exception. I nearly hated her for that.)
It also explains why my crush, also white, (who would later become my boyfriend of almost six years) didn’t want to ask me to his senior prom. He later explained to me that he had wanted to take me, but he was afraid because I was black. So he took a girl with whom he ended up having a horrible time.
It explains why I had never heard that I “talk like a white girl” or been teased for my accent until I got to Oxford. It explains why most of the black kids alienated me because I was friends with the white people — living in Durham, I had never been accused of turning my back on my heritage before.
Yesterday I spent the day at work, giving shows (Man! The theater is REALLY REALLY cold!) and trying to burn some of those Animal Addresses CD’s. I may decide that I never want to do that again. Thanks to Kemp and Critter for helping me out with that and keeping me company. I think that after 8 hours of that, I would have lost my mind. Really, really, lost my mind. Then I went to mother’s and visited family that I haven’t seen in a long time — my cousin Yummy, his girlfriend and new baby Gabriel, (who makes, according to my grandfather’s count, and he keeps a notebook of names and birthdates just so’s he can keep count, grandchild number 132!), my cousin Yargo, and my Aunt Lazaelea. I came home and had friends over to watch Coming to America, on which I promptly fell asleep, and spent the rest of the night walking around the neighborhood and listening to Tenacious D. And watching a bit of Zim. And talking.
My plan for today is to rest for awhile and then head up to work to fight with the emac…I seriously dislike emac’s.
Anyway, I had a good night, although I woke up a little ill. I guess not going to sleep until 3:30 can do that to a chica.