Open Forum, Pt. 2

PRO asked: Question #1. Were you raised to be comfortable in your own skin, and with that, were you always proud of your rich, beautiful, dark complexion?

#2. Were you ever a cheerleader?

#3. Are you looking forward to bliss and nuptials with JBN?

#4. Have you ever put on a striptease for a guy? What song would be appropriate for your number?

#5. Have my questions made you blush?

#6. Will you forgive me for being so caught up with my new job and all of its responsibilities that I haven't diligently visited my few FAVORITE blog sites regularly? Now I gotta catch up with yesterday's response. Oh, cyber hug me if we still kewl. *lol*


1. I was raised to be comfortable in my skin which is probably why I act the way I do *lol* I mean my mother and grandmother are dark skinned and naturally I idolize them. I guess I didn’t have other images around me, or none that I actively, noticed to change my mind. Black has always been beautiful to me.

I mean I had my awkward stages. I mean I wore thick glasses, had acne, skinny as a rail and generally looked the part of a “nerd”. Well until I opened my mouth and it completely screwed up the image. *lol* Loud, aggressive, bossy and just a plain out right bully.

I’ve been called ugly before. Passed over for my lighter skinned, longer hair friends. I admit sometimes my extremely high self confidence was shattered. Sometimes that still plagues me, little insecurities that I have that I can’t shake.

But you know what? I give all the credit to my parents. As much I can’t stand my father he always told me I was pretty. I was smart. I was better looking than so and so. My mother, when I would sometimes cry when little mean spirited jokes cut into me when I was all alone and after I successfully managed to roast that person to death but their little digs did get at me, told me to never let anyone tear me down. She told it’s me it all part of growing up, she would show me pictures during her awkward stages and I was amazed. I was like well if my mother went through it and she’s this amazing beautiful creature now and I’m her daughter, well dammit I can too.

I mean now I’m at the point where stuff doesn’t faze me. Sure I know I’m not the prettiest female out there, hell I know prettier, seen prettier up close but I know I’m cute. I look at my own transformation and smile. Insults don’t even bother me. I mean I can only be me. I’m blessed to have a wonderful childhood, wonderful people in my life. And a sharp tongue *lol*.

And I’ve always been proud of my skin. I’ve never wanted to be light skinned. Maybe have longer hair after I chopped mine off because I wanted a “box” cut like my older god sister and I hated it the next day and my shit haven’t grown right since, but never the skin. Maybe because I didn’t grow up around a lot of light skinned people. I was aware of the “light v. dark” debates and preferences but I guess it never sank into my consciousness. I like being dark. I tan every summer just so that I can remain dark.

Of course that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by the notion that darker people are not supposed to have good looks. Or the looks of surprise when people see I don’t have the “wide nose or big lips” someone of my complexion are supposed to have. I remember this guy told me I had a “white girl’s nose” and had the nerve to twist his lips and ask me did I have a nose job. I guess I didn’t get those memos.

I mean I could dedicate a whole blog entry about my skin but yeah, I’m pretty darn proud of my skin. When I had bad acne I used to joke that I had “Nestle Crunch” skin **lol yeah I talk about myself. Call it a defense mechanism or just plain out craziness** and now I’m a Hershey Kiss.


2. LOL no I was never a cheerleader. I ran track but never a cheerleader. I went to an extremely ghetto high school and because I couldn’t twerk my ass like the rest of the girls, I was brutally cut from the team. Like I wanted to wear spray painted t shirts and dukes popping my ass to “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile. My high school didn’t have “traditional” cheerleaders—we had a strict Pom Pom Team and their whole purpose: To dance during half time. No cheering on the team, no creative cheers, just a lot of ass shaking.

Half were pregnant by the end of the year and would wear their little uniform, now tight around the belly with the buttons on the dukes undone to accommodate their expanding belly, to walk pigeon toed down the school hall.

3. I’m looking forward to the actual marriage but not the wedding. I think I’m going to elope. Seriously. We just set the date and I have been bombarded with phone calls already from family, bringing some new worry in my life. When I’m in Chicago next week, my best friend and I are going to look at churches and reception halls.

I guess since I’ve been with him for 5 years it’s no biggie to us. It’s just a change of titles as far as we’re concerned. I really need to stop calling him a “boyfriend” though I think I get people confused because I refer to him as that.

I love this guy and I just want to be his wife. He knows me and accepts me for all my craziness. At this point I honestly think I will never meet another man as patient as he is *lol*

4. Now come on Pro you know I’ve gotten my stripper-ness on quite a few times. I mean most of the time it didn’t go according to plan, like the time I had a “blond moment” and decided to use the floor lamp as a pole and crashed to the ground with me and the lamp.

Or the time I had on heels and was standing over him in the bed, gyrating and touching the ceiling with my fingertips and tooted my little booty out too far and I fell off the bed.

Or the time I was giving JBN a lap dance in his room and his room mate walked in.

Ummm…..yeah.

But I’m into little things like that. Dressing up, dancing, and stripping. I watch too many damn movies *lol* I believe in keeping my man entertained even if I’m being completely silly about it. I may have taken out the lamp but damn if I didn’t sit there and laugh, got up, replayed the song and did it again. Hell we both were laughing.

Honestly…I use a lot of R. Kelly songs. His older stuff mainly, you know when he was molesting Aaliyah and shit, and I can’t really think too much about his lyrics otherwise I creep myself out and I turn it off because I’m sure he was sleeping with some child around that time but I’ll slide on 12 Play, or R Kelly and get to work like Diamond on “Player’s Club”

A little of the old Janet here and there, some Prince. The freakier songs the better.


5. Yeah a little bit. But it was more the compliments you tossed in there than the actual questions.

Another secret about me: I blush so easily. I wasn’t even aware I even blushed until an old co-worker pointed it out to me and he was a White guy.

I disputed his down until this dude I had a mini crush on who used to come into my job all the time came over and asked me a question. Sure it was “where can I find the ketchup” but I felt me blushing so hard, I just ran back in the kitchen. And then my co worker came sliding in with a smirk on his face and teased me for like a couple of days.

6. I forgive you if you forgive me *hug* I’ve been slipping on my blog readings.
And writing. I need to get it together.


Wow this is so fun.

Any questions?