I Am Eccentric and Live Under a Rock
I have narrowly escaped missing three birthdays in the past two weeks.
I have missed all of Michael Phelps phenomenal wins. Swimming is my second favorite event, second only to diving. I love it.
A friend told me that her father did not speak to her for fifteen years because she married a man of a different race. I did not know that still happened in America, during my lifetime. Sure, I’ve met dumb, racist rednecks who could go on Jerry Springer. But I cannot imagine any of them fathering my kind and collected friend.
I understand completely why people have accused me of being eccentric and living under a rock.
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Oh the ways of the old South. I dated a black man and I was horribly embarassed by my family’s behavior in front of him. I would have preferred the straight up distance as to the ridiculous backhanded rudeness I experienced.