Ten.Six Hundred & Thirty-Three
Her skateboard arrives today. I hope the rain holds off so that she can use it. But it does look like rain.
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.
The instinct is to try to fix it on my own.
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.
I’m a little jealous. What black woman doesn’t have a thing about hair?
It looks like no one enjoyed the olive oil cake as much as I did. I can keep it for myself.
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.
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.
He tells me he’s proud of the way I’m bouncing back.
Feeling the need for a deep spring clean.