"Do you have a boyfriend?" I wish I could tell you how many times I have been/will be asked this question. My family knows the answer, so they don't bother anymore. But everyone else -- almost friends, estranged relatives, manicurists, waxers, cab drivers, the man who makes my beet juice, and even the occasional homeless man -- comes right out with it. I've learned to be nice. I cock my head to the side, smile wide, and try to look like a Disney princess when I say no. And even nicer when they tell me that I am pretty and should. But I'm tired of it. So no, Lady Who Paints My Nails Contrasting Shades Of Black And Purple, I do not have a boyfriend. BLOG POSTS
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