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Hugs...

Hugs...

Hugs

Sitting here with a room full of kids all around me… trying not to live in my head.

“Boy A… sit down and finish your work.”

“Boy B… read this over again and check your spelling.”

“Girl C… yes, you can go to the washroom.”

Checking my email. Finding a pen to write down an item for my grocery list… never mind, I’ll make a list on my phone instead. Responding to a text.

“Boy D… yes, you can go to the nurse. You don’t look well.”

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Tiny Room Concerts and Stuff

Tiny Room Concerts and Stuff

Tiny Room Concerts and Stuff

I keep trying to find her.

I like the idea of singing in front of people, strumming the 5 chords I know on my guitar (whose strings easily needed to be replaced 5 years ago), or just flowing with a band. I used to do this, you know. Every Sunday. Every single Sunday.

And every single time, I began afraid.

I was watching Avery Sunshine singing on Tiny Desk Concerts on NPR and I remembered. In her, I saw a glimpse of who I am and of...


That One Guy...

That One Guy...

That One Guy

Even before I met him, I knew he was on his way. I didn’t know what capacity he would be there for, but I knew he was coming. You see, I had been crying out to God that day about wanting a change, about wanting to finally at least see the man that he was preparing for me- the one that I made my vision clear about when I typed it up and put my Michelle and Barack picture on it to solidify how real it was going to be... promising not to mess it...


Life...

Life...

Home Cooked Meals

That’s the thing…

I keep telling myself that I’m going to cook today. Every day. I say the same thing.

This weekend I had a taste for some mac and cheese. I’m working to perfect this recipe that an old friend of mine used to make that changed the game for me on how mac and cheese should be made. When I say working, I mean, I tried to make it at least 5 times since the time I first had it 8 years ago, but whatever, work is work…


lip service...

lip service...

Growing up I had a huge complex about my lips and I know many women and men (especially of color) shared the same complex... Too big... Too full... Too wide... Too ?... It wasn't until I got older that I begin to accept their unique beauty and recognize the power that they hold...

Perhaps my lips are big because smaller ones can't contain all the life flowing out of me... Perhaps they are proportionate to the size of my big ole heart… Perhaps thinner and less curvaceous lips wouldn't match the depth and melody of my...