Case in point: have you had blisters on your feet? How often have you intentionally inflicted this pain upon yourself to look fashionable, fit in, or otherwise make yourself feel good? Why do you do it?
Growing up, I was the girl who blasted Bon Jovi in the tiny subsidized apartment I shared with my mother, the one who preferred Friends to Martin and John Hughes to Spike Lee. Is it any wonder, then, why my mother would set me up on a Black Friend Date?