Conversations With Blacktress

Okay, I’m kind of freaking out right now. How am I just finding out today that Roger Ebert has a black wife? I’m a discredit to both my primary and secondary race – that of film scholars.
Have I been living in a cave????
I like to think that, as the world’s preeminent blacktress (“preeminent” means ‘popular among my friends,’ right?), I’ve got my finger on the pulse of American culture, especially film and television.
Apparently, if it’s not the tale of a genetic anomaly or a pregnant teen, I’m just as in the dark as my 93 ½ year old grandmother.

I give this coupling TWO THUMBS UP!

If I’d known about Ebert’s black wife, I would have certainly profiled her for BHM!!!

I think my favorite quote so far (as I scour the interwebs for news of their love), is this:

"One of the things I admire about Roger is that his ego and his intellect enjoy a challenge," she says. "He likes a woman of substance who is smart and has something to say."

In other words, Roger’s not afraid of a strong black woman!
I guess I need to start hitting up the nerdy, film-critic set to find a man who can go toe to toe with a blacktress.

This decision comes in the wake of a recent exchange I had on the streets of NYC. It was a page out of Conversations With Deb, so ridiculous that I couldn’t even believe it was happening to me. So embarrassing that I had to go home and eat a brownie right afterward. So tragic that I had to share it with you, gentle readers. Here goes:

Monday night, around 6:30pm, I'm walking down the street with my friend Danielle, talking about life.
Me: I'm never going to find a boyfriend.
Danielle (loudly): Yes you ARE!
Random Man Crossing the Street, smiling at Sojourner and Danielle: No you're not!!!

This man was not homeless. He was not visibly intoxicated. He actually kind of looked like a grown-up Harry Potter.

And yet he still knew.