i am sitting half naked on a cot in the room i live in. i tell my boyfriend that the first weekend we went out together i wanted to go to the museum of natural history and he convinced me we should go to the park instead. it's been three months since that weekend and we still have not gone to the museum. he gets up and says it's raining.
earlier i told him that 9 out of 10 women don't enjoy penetration, and would much rather be gone down on. and anyway, the penis is no more important than the finger. he said something about how i wasn't spiritual. or that i should date women. i can't remember now.
i do have bangs, and i am a writer. but i am not white "like that." i mean i've always listened to tu-pac and my parents are southern european and i would have never been admitted to a country club in the 60s or 70s and maybe not even today. my breasts are way too big; so big, that even with a business suit on i look like i am a call girl--although i recognize that some call girls wear business suits. and some call girls like the museum, too.
