A Conversation With My Grandma

There’s so much pressure that goes into that first posting! That first post should set the tone for the blog, be representative of future postings, and really reflect me. So I thought to myself, what should I write about?!??!? I thought about writing about my very busy weekend where, aside from working, my time was divided between Angry Birds and learning Busta’s rap in "Look at me Now" (which, by the way, I’m getting prett-y good at. Which is semi-impressive because I’m very white. Very white = white without swag)… I mean I was stumped. I had invested five, maybe ten, WHOLE minutes in this thought and still had nothing. So I dropped it for the day. And then I spoke with my grandma the following day, on Mother’s Day.

A conversation with my grandma…

Grandma: And every time we went up to the Air Force base to dance, your grandfather would wait and watch for me to pass through that gate.
Me: Like a stalker?
Grandma: No, no. He wasn’t doing anything screwy. He just thought I was the prettiest one there.
Me: So, like a romantic stalker?
Grandma: Yeah. Your grandfather was so jealous, and I didn’t even go with any boys. I went up there with all my girlfriends.
Me: Like a lesbian?
Grandma: No, no. I would dance with the boys. ALL the boys; from all over the U.S.
Me: Even the black guys?
Grandma: Oh god no!!! Never.