A flair of flava.

He actually said that no, he didn't think I was dating material, but that I was "still super cool, hot, and fun to play with."

I am just an exotic plaything for men

My best friend has always told me to date black men or any other man of color. My preferred flavor has been vanilla, particularly ones with roots in this region, but maybe I'm starting to see her point. No matter how relatable I am to them philosophically, intelligently, economically, I will always seem different because I look different and yes, my parents are different than theirs. They can never outright admit that race is an issue because it would make them look bad, and I agree that's it's probably not our races, but our cultural backgrounds at least. It doesn't matter that I sometimes prefer grits over rice or that I love burgers and pizza like any other American... It freaks them out that my parents and I speak a different language to each other and that if we ever were to procreate, our kids might look slightly different than them (but much cuter, in my opinion).

I know that's one of the reasons J(erk) never took me seriously. He could never imagine introducing me to his conservative, traditional, all-American, football-lovin' family, all of whom he is very close to. On the other hand, he was a hit with his friends who all saw me as that exotic wildflower.

What a life conundrum! It really is time to move out of this place.