Thursday’s Blurbs …

A number out of Indiana called me three times this morning before I answered. It turned out to be Sallie Mae (Navient isn’t a real thing). She wanted to know when I’d be paying $200. I explained to her that I’d just paid $400. Then she said “thank you for your payment” and asked me for $200 again. I told her I was now “broke as hell.” She said she understood. Then, after learning I was employed, made a reasonable wage, and wasn’t on government assistance, she informed me she couldn’t help me with any alternative options, but said if I agreed to make another payment within 30 days, she wouldn’t report to my credit. Ask me if I care about her reporting to my credit. I already have a house, car, credit card, and every other soul sucking option you use good credit to attain. I’m sufficiently broke and don’t need anything else. As for the next payment? She gone be waiting!

I’ve been spending quite a bit of time thinking about the movie “Get Out.” I don’t entirely have the words for how I feel, and it’s occurring to me that I may never have them. What I can articulate though, is that “Get Out” is the most effective horror movie I’ve ever seen, because it so closely mirrors reality. I’ve been inside that fishbowl practically every day of my life. And to some extent, everything else in the movie has already been done. After all, you’ve heard of Henrietta Lacks and The Tuskegee Airmen. “Get Out” simply twists the science. That’s why, even though I don’t do horror movies, I did see and recommend this movie. You’re going to be unsettled, but you will get through it, because you already know the story. Jordan Peele should’ve been cheeky and called it, “Being black and getting screwed in America.”

Washington, DC has a sex trafficking problem and black and latinx girls are disappearing at an alarming rate. Have you heard about it? Do you think the two are related? Do you even care? And if you do care, do you know how to help? You see, that’s the problem with all the sadness in the world. There’s never a clear path to doing anything about it. You can always find fuckery on a street corner, but salvation is a long, winding, confusing road. Life is a real bitch sometimes.

Holding one of my gifts on my 28th birthday.

Tomorrow I turn 33 years old. It seems like just yesterday I was turning 28. Isn’t it funny how everything the “old folks” used to say is true? Time really is flying by. I’m so glad I was a hot mess in my 20s. I haven’t wasted a single minute, you hear me?!

Happy Hump Day. I hope somebody is humping. I am not currently humping. I’m in therapy and have stopped dating while I work on me. Adulthood. That’s some 33 year old type shit!

 

 

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