In a dream I had I was sitting with a journalist at a press junket and my man was watching us from behind the camera. "They" weren't sure if I would be able to handle the topic of conversation. The journalist covertly presented the topic to me while we were chatting...she was hinting. She had long shiny thick chestnut brown hair, manicured nails, expensive flawless makeup, and brown eyes. It was her nails that I admired with something close to envy. They weren't very long, but it was the shape that struck me, it was as if they'd been trained into perfection over time. And they were painted a shiny navy blue that looked good with her chocolate brown summer coat cinched at the waist. Her nails matched her jeans. The woman was a standard of excellence that can only be found in L.A. A woman size zero, but still with curves. A competitive woman who trained and ate on a strict diet so her size zeros wouldn't pinch her when she sat down. There had to be a little breathing room.
So when the journalist started hinting to me that the topic was going to be on food and dieting I switched gears. I complained about eating nearly an entire bag of mini marshmallows and feeling like my teeth were going to fall out. She didn't complain about anything. But she did say eating a slice of cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory is probably worse. And we laughed. That was when my man walked away with a slight smile on his face. He knew I was going to be fine. He was like a father watching over me, because he wanted to keep me innocent. He liked me being innocent.