So, are you Black or White?

I'm in 7th grade, and this is the first time I have ever been asked this question.

"Both" I answered. It's simple, right? My mom is Black, my dad is White. The math is easy. What kind of question is this?

To my ignorance, it's a layered question, and it will become something I ask myself everyday, because everyday someone wants an answer.

I am a mixed kid who grew up with lots of other mixed kids on military bases across Germany. I saw lots of interracial parents who made different combinations of children. Like most young people, if you shared something delicious out of your lunchbox, I thought you were cool and we were friends.

Somehow, things just get weird and race becomes a big deal. I'm not sure if it's the inner workings of middle school or that my family returned to the states. I was friends with a couple of white girls. There was some drama, and then I was friends with the black girls. I was happier there.

Nothing major happens in middle school, but I'm making small observations that will become my foundation as I enter High School.

I'm shy and being social is painful. I'm inexperienced and naive. Kids talk about things I don't quite understand. I'm smart, have large grandma glasses, and my hair is always frizzed out-which would make me an easy target, but the black girls are my friends, and that's providing me some sort of... safety? I'm tall and large chested, uncertain about my body. I don't want to move around.  I choose to wear clothes twice my size. I have not measured my level of attractiveness; it's not in my awareness.  I have a gap between my teeth that I'm not particularly fond of, but I don't hate it... yet.

By the time I move out of eight grade, my answer has changed.

"I'm Black."

and I get my hair relaxed, because that's what black girls do.

photo credit: zen via photopin cc

Molly

 Let's start with Molly.

Molly, you are the date (oh excuse me, non-date) that has pushed me to the land of authorship. My most awesome friends have suggested for years that I write my adventures, and you  my lady are the pivotal decision making event for me. Not just you, but some feedback that I have received.

I first want to clarify, that I am dramatic. I know this. My friends know this.  I have a grand fashion of describing the process of being stood up.  But it doesn't make my story less true or my feelings less valid. and I see the humor in it.

Some folks just don't get it. They root for the other person, point out Donica's character flaws, and are very forgiving. That's cool, be Team Edward, but Team Jacob has some points to make and hopefully confirms what other single ladies and gents are feeling: What the fuck were you thinking date!?!?

Let's dissect Molly. Yeah. I changed her name to protect whatever is worth protecting.

Molly is fine. I haven't seen a beautiful stud like her since the days of Vegas. and bonus. she cares about cultural sensitivity, and works for an international bank. She's interested in me. (okkkkkkk)

Via a message, I invite Molly to my brother's NCAA Basketball Tournament. The UCCS vs Metro game is going to be a sellout monster of a thing. What a cool first date, yeah? hell yeah. Saturday, 5:40 we are going to meet at the arena. I buy tickets because how embarrassing would it be that we can't get into an at-capacity game. I don't want to be that girl with the stupid, "oops" on her face. (I would like to write in bold that Molly said yes. She is available and "so ready for that game. I love anything live.") hmmhmmm.....

Night before game, Donica sends a confirmation text. No Answer.
12:45 day of game. Donica makes a confirmation call. Leaves a voice mail. It's sweet. Says, "hey, let me know if we are still on for tonight."
4:45 day of game. Donica make a concerned phone call. Leave a voice mail. It's sweet and caring. "hey, I haven't heard from you, I hope everything is okay?... "
5:30 day of game. Donica makes last phone call. leaves no voice mail.

I'm stood up. It's kinda a bummer. My feelings are hurt. But the game is AMAZING. and my facebook friends give me facebook hugs. I've called 3 times which is my limit. She can call me at this point.

Oh, but she doesn't. She sends me a text the next morning. Here it is:
Molly: Sorry, I was involved with all things Knicks yesterday. I'll give you a call later
Donica: You know, I don't think you are a real person now, so I look forward to your call.
Molly: What do you mean?
Donica: (ring ring, Calls molly. no answer)
Donica: Well, I get stood up a lot, so this is nothing new for me.
Molly: Why does that happen?
Donica: You tell me, you completely stood me up.
Molly: Shit
Molly: My bad.
Molly: I didn't mean to stand you up. My friend got engaged yesterday
Molly: So I mixed up my days. Sorry.
Donica: yeaah...that's great for your friend. Where was my, "Donica, can't make it phone call?"
Donica: and I called you 3 times. I'ts just very weird.

Note:  I really wanted to text: Your shitty story doesn't make sense, and why are we texting!?!

Molly: I'm going to stop messaging you now. You should give people more credit. and Lighten the fuck up.
Donica: (Now pissed and debating if I should continue having a textservation.) I gave you credit all day yesterday as I waited for you. You should be more thoughtful. Mind you, I had your ticket to a sold out game. G'luck dating.

My observations:
1. Wait, you had an engagement party on Saturday? If you can't keep dates together, buy a planner.
2. Was the engagement party a surprise for you? It's considerate to call me and cancel. It's cool - your friends are important, I get it.
3. Oh, you forgot to call me? That's why I called you 3 times to confirm.
4. Oh, you didn't have your phone with you? but the first thing you text me in the morning is, "I was involved with all things Knicks" ermm.. discrepencyyyyyy.
5. You realize you are in the wrong and proceed to apologize...OVER A TEXT!?!
6. When I attempt to have an adult conversation because amazingly at this point I still want to meet you, you ignore me and STILL TEXT?? Are you thirteen?
7. Why are you cursing at me? Oh, are you upset that I'm holding you accountable? Yes. I see how that makes me uptight.

Red Flags: Inconsiderate, Defensive, 13.

I ate a cookie, took a nap, and I'm over it. On to the next. :)  or not, because I need a break.

Here we go.....

Oh, has this been a long time coming.

I am notorious for posting my dating exploits on Facebook. Not a big deal - 95% of my online pals are good friends of mine.  It started out with a simple need to tell someone....anyone.... of a ridiculously bad date I had. Rather than chat it out with 8 of my besties, I figured I'd save some time by posting highlights from the event.

And oh what an event it was. People applauded and joined together in the experience of the bad date. Others participated in shock face and had disbelief that my story was true. A few became quick critics, which is fine - I'm open to feedback. But I do notice they are the ones that have been in a relationship... for like, ever. So their opinion I take with a grain of salt. (I still love you).

And so my friends looked forward to the next story. and the next. because you see, I date a lot. and those dates happen to be bad - which usually makes for funny. Why is this my experience, you may ask? Well, I've heard a gambit of reasons, but you can decide for yourself because I'm documenting it.

I am a 29 year old bisexual woman dating in the 21st century,
and for the most part, it sucks.

but for the other part....it's hilarious.

 photo credit: Βethan via photopin cc