WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO!?!?!

My school is located on a street here in Orlando called Orange Blossom Trail. The locals call it OBT. And OBT is known for its..."walkers". Is that an okay way to put it? Everyone at school like to call them the OBT Special. I see them mostly in the mornings on my way to school. And class starts at 6:30, so these poor woman are out their, cold or hot rain or shine at the crack of dawn trying to make money from the truckers entering and exiting the two highways that intersect right by my school.

Anyway, to get to the point... My new boo (his name is Rusty, and we're doing great, by the way). My new boo and I are leaving school one day at noon, and we pull out onto OBT and are immediately stuck in stand still bumper to bumper traffic. Its an especially warm day, in the mid seventies (can you believe that??? And its Fedruary!!!) so we have the sunroof open and the windows rolled down. I'm just relaxing in the passenger seat, and we're off in search of lunch.

Low and behold, one comes walkin down the street. So immediately he starts makin jokes. "Look at this one!" Funny, right? Kind of...until she walked up to the car. I guess for some reason we looked like a safe choice. And she says "I date couples!". Well my face turned red, and all I could do was turn and look at Rusty, who was laughing so hard, I thought he would wet his pants! She had walked up to the passenger window, so she's standing like three feet from my face! I didn't respond, so she said it again, "I do couples!" What do you do in that situation? I couldn't laugh or say no or get offended or anything. Just speechless, which is extremely rare for me. Of course, Rusty couldn't contain himself. So she walked back a few cars, but aparently didn't see any better prospects. So she returned to inform us that she had "the best black p**** we ever had". As if that would change our minds.

Of course, being a boy, Rusty still hasn't gotten over the hilarity of it. I called my mother, because I tell her everything. And she was almost in tears with sadness over what I life that woman must lead and must have always lead. Comparing my childhood to the one you would imagine a woman like that lived. And what she must go through now. My mother was also sad for me. Saying that was a piece of innocence taken from me for having experienced that.

I see it both ways, humorous and sad. And I'm not really looking for a reaction here, just a story to share. Many strange things have happened to me since I've moved to Florida. Its like a twillight zone. And what's worse is anything that could go wrong here, does. For my class mates as well as me. But that's another story for another day.

Hope all is well with my blogger family, thanks for the continuing support!

Totally broken hearted and broken legged...

I was never known as the graceful type of girl. In any way. My moves on the dance floor are more seizure-like than fluid or sexy. I still have the walk of a child, like Meg Ryan in French Kiss. (By the way, in my family, we live by Meg Ryan movies. We even have a saying WWMRD What Would Meg Ryan Do) When I was a child my mother affectionately refered to me as "My little spiller". If it wasn't so offensive, I'm sure she'd have given me a sippee cup until I was 15 years old. Maybe even to this day...my notebook for school has an orange tent and still smells vaguely of fresh, pulp free orange juice.

Because of my rough and playful style, I think its safe to say I've broken more than a few bones in my time. Unfortunately, my left ankle gets the worst of it, since it alone has been broken twice. And twisted many more times than that. Because of this fact, it likes to swell when its 'that time of the month' or during rain. Which is fantasic when I want to wear shorts, but I have one ankle and one cankle. Its also very weak and prone to give out while walking.

Now sometimes when it gives, I can catch myself and play it off. Of course, today was not one of those days. And of course, I couldn't have been alone or just with friends. But instead I was having a laundry date with my new boo. He is a STUDENT at my school. And my neighbor. So we decided to throw some laundry in, then watch a movie while we wait. So he's waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs outside my apartments. And I come hopping down, a basket of laundry in tow. I hit the bottom step, and my ankle rolled over. I went down, and my laundry scattered EVERYWHERE. In slow motion, dirty socks and panties flew through the air and landed with a boom. It seemed that way, anyway. And I tried to crawl around gathering everything before he could see, but even worse, he tried to HELP! How humiliating! Not only am I a total clutz...but why would I wash my panties on a date??? Am I insane?

He was kind enough to clean up the blood from my scraped knees, bandage them, put an ice bag on my ankle, put in a movie, and finish my laundry. What a sweet boy.

Now it sounds weird to talk about heart break and my new boo in the same blog. But the heart feels what it wants to, I suppose. I am seeing a new boy. And he is super cute. But that doesn't make it any less hard to admit that its over with Cookie Professor. We are still friends and its extremely difficult to not be with him. But I had to admit that I could never live forth fiddle in his life. But every time I hear his voice or see his face my heart still flutters. Maybe I should have waited longer to move on, but I didn't want opportunity to pass me by. These are my crazy college days, anyway, right?

Till my next disaster...I remain always your dainty dame...