Piecing it back together.

Against my better judgment, I did something super cliché today and took up an invitation to go to Café Intermezzo for “drinks and stimulating conversation.” Say no more. Something about a group of “intellectual” (didn’t know I counted as an intellectual now) Black women sitting in a “European” café that’s become more of a suburban tourist attraction than anything remotely authentic just screams “Sanaa Lathan flick” to me. I went anyway and you know what? That shit was awesome. We talked about everything from religion, to feminism, to Haiti, and back. If we hadn’t started so late and had other plans, I’m sure we could have been there for hours sharing opinions and disagreements. I love a good conversation, and I love a good chocolate cake. (yeah, I had a slice, and?)

Aside from what we talked about, I learned a very valuable lesson today: sometimes you just gotta suck up your fears of looking like a poser, put on a beret, and have an $8 “French” coffee drink in an Arabic coffee-sized cup (no refills, of course). It just might make your day.