"Because It Is, You Know, Black People"

Blog-

You may have noticed I messed with the format a bit. I wanted to create an index, so that people could find posts on a particular topic. I started to go back through the posts and categorize them last week, but I ran out of time. I do hope I can finish that project though. It has the added benefit of allowing me to quickly find out if I have written about something before. Things tend to run together in my mind, and the drinking doesn't help. To that end-

Drinking-

My god, I was trashed on Friday at happy hour. I have recently shown this blog to some of my co-workers (welcome)- a group of people I regularly go to happy your with. We had a happy hour scheduled for Friday, but I woke up that morning with an incredibly sore back. It happens to me sometimes. I'm not sure if it's a complication from my car accident a few years ago, or a recurrence of the herniated disk I got as a result, or even the surgery I had to fix the disk. But whatever it is, it hurts like hell every few months or so. And there isn't a whole lot I can do except whine and take drugs for it. So I loaded up on Vicodin all day on Friday (at work- good times), then we went out drinking. Could you guys tell? I can't believe I found my way home.

Housekeeper-

And speaking of home, our housekeeper is batshit crazy. I know what you're thinking- "A housekeeper, how decadent!" You couldn't be more right, and you can suck it, bitches. I don't have a big fancy TV, and I don't own a car, but I don't clean my fucking toilet, either, and that means I'm living on easy street. I don't need a lot of material possessions. I'd trade them all for never having to even know where we keep the broom anymore. Normally I'd probably feel bad about having someone else clean my house, like I'm too good to do it. But we pay her a king's ransom for it, and she's nothing less than an artist. She cleans things we didn't even know were dirty. I actually admire her for the absolute dedication she has to her craft. You can tell she is one of these people who just can't handle things being dirty, and she has channeled into a crusade against eliminating dirt. She is a treasure, except for this one little problem.

She is not so into the black people. She's Brazilian, and old (sixty one!), so maybe that excuses it somehow? I don't know. But on maybe her third or fourth visit to our house, she was explaining to us how happy she was to have found another client (she was recommended to us by blog readers K+N, you racist bastards). In her broken English, she told us how relieved she was when she came by to give us the estimate and saw we weren't black. Baby and I were honestly dumbstruck. What do you even say? In our housekeeper's bizarre little mind, there is a fundamental difference between cleaning up after black people and white people. We've tried to wrap our minds around this, to come up with some way in which that's an objective statement to make. But it's impossible. She's a racist, and that is wrong wrong wrong. But my god, can this woman clean! So we sold out and kept her, I'm ashamed to say. And thankfully it didn't come up again, until...

This morning, she was gossiping with us about K+N's new house. She was telling us that she needed to clean it before they moved in, and it was a bastard because, of course, black people had lived there before. She said it so matter of factly- "Because, you know, it is black people." Baby and I just squirmed. Should I feel so guilty about this? Because I really do. Of course, I'll feel much better when I come home to a sparkling clean apartment.