I bit my nails this morning for the first time in almost ten years. I didn't think the salty sweet taste of keratin would make me risk a $20 manicure, but I was nervous. I had never met anyone who spoke English AND wasn't in my immediate peer group for a very long time, so I was decidedly unsure if I was ready for a conversation that extended past "Yo Ma", and "Are your tits real?" I covered up my tits and didn't don an ounce of makeup. I purposely didn't wear my favorite leg warmers or forget to put on pants. I did, however, wear a sash around my waist as I popped downstairs to meet him. I wasn't going to completely hide my completely overt sparkly bitch attire.
Tall, fluffy, tattooed and no hint of sweetness except for the strawberry scent I smelled when he hugged me. This is new. I spent an entire existence looking for peers that had faerie wings, doe eyes and an ethereal calm, while being the size of giants. He is not. But he is cuddly.
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