Rickita is 27 going on 18-45. She loves movies and dinners. She loves music. She loves HGTV. She loves to nap. She loves being alone. She loves the company of children and their genuine enthusiasm and sense of discovery. She loves having no clue. She loves text messaging. She loves fashion (she's secretly addicted to it). She loves day dreaming. She loves to read anything about African/African American people and their struggles/triumphs. She's learning to heal. The only science fiction she reads is by Octavia Butler. She wants to say that she cusses like a sailor, can't sit and eat at a table properly, is a talented burper. But in interest of her current employers finding this blog, she'll stick with....she loves education.
She's a teacher.
And she thinks that if you don't read "Medical Apartheid", you're not living.
And if you don't finish Native Son, you're a loser. Kidding, because I haven't finished it yet...but I will some time next week. The point is, just read it.
So this book totally sums up my situation with Dakari. We broke up. He’s an asshole and because of that I will never speak to him again. Period.
