Authentic conversations about culture, motherhood, divorce, black excellence, humor, and style!
This thing has been bothering me forever, and I cannot take it anymore. I am here to vent and ask questions that keep me awake at night. As you know, I just returned from Houston, which means that I was at the airport, and I was peeing in the bathroom, and I saw things. First of all, I consider any bathroom that isn't in my house or in someone's house a public bathroom. Airports. Hotels. Restaurants, etc. I won't mention any names, but there are also people whose bathrooms in their Read More
You know that I argue with myself a lot, right? If you knew half the conversations that go on in my head, you might stop reading this blog --- and maybe even sign a petition to have me committed. There are certain words that although innocent just sound dirty, and those three in the title are exactly what I'm talking about today. This reminds me of my 2009 post about ice cream. I was trying to decide the proper way to describe what you're doing to ice cream. Do you eat it, lick it, Read More
First of all, I want to say that my thoughts and prayers are with people who were affected by the senseless gun violence and terrorist attack in Las Vegas. I am so, so sorry. I wish my thoughts could undo the hurt that has been done. I cannot imagine the pain you are growing through. I am truly sorry and heartbroken. ______________________________________________________________________________ We are back from Houston. We came home early yesterday morning, or should I say late Monday night? Read More
My favorite travel buddy and I are on our way to Houston, Texas today to see Uju - or Jiji as Ada Verastic calls her. Last time we traveled to Texas (January 2016), it was also to see Uju, but she has now moved from Austin to Houston. And just like the last time, we are going for the heck of it Uju was just here last month, and she spent her entire time with us, but I guess we enjoyed having her so much that I have decided to retaliate. So, yes, off we go to Houston! This isn't my first time Read More
For me, wearing a thong was a sign that I was an adult. It was adult underwear, meant for grownups. And I was a grownup. Or so I thought. I think I was in my late teens when I got my first thong. It was purple and made of lace and the string at the back was very thin. Actually, it was called a t-string. I loved that thong (or t-string), and I was heartbroken when my aunt threw it away because it was evil. Now that I'm a "real" adult - with bills and responsibilities and a toddler - I Read More
