Ten.Six Hundred & Thirty-Three
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Her skateboard arrives today. I hope the rain holds off so that she can use it. But it does look like rain.
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I decide that breakfast today will be an orange olive oil cake. A blood orange olive oil cake. First I make the orange sugar. I realize that I need more of this in my life.
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The instinct is to try to fix it on my own.
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Hair down to her elbows. Glowing chestnut brown. She always looks so much older with straightened hair. Hopefully she can stay out of the rain.
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I’m a little jealous. What black woman doesn’t have a thing about hair?
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It looks like no one enjoyed the olive oil cake as much as I did. I can keep it for myself.
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And then the skateboard came. I want a skateboard too. Maybe I’ll get one for myself this summer. Two brown girls skateboarding through the neighborhood. I kinda like the sound of that.
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The episode of Queer Eye that we watched last night is still on my mind. The struggles with identity. How we get to define ourselves. How there are a million ways to be a black woman.
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He tells me he’s proud of the way I’m bouncing back.
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Feeling the need for a deep spring clean.