My quirky habits.

My major in college was Psychology and I think it was quite appropriate for the way I am and the way I turned out.

As I checked my front door last night for the 4th time before going to sleep, I realized that I have several neurotic habits and it tickled me so. Therefore, for your reading pleasure, I shall catalogue below some of my… shall we say interesting habits.

  • I check the front door several times before going to bed and when I leave the house. I am always certain it is locked but I cannot sleep or leave if I have not checked it a couple of times.
  • I do not like odd numbers. If I am eating jelly beans, I have to eat them in pairs and if possible the same colours at a time. Continue reading “My quirky habits.”

Build a new nest

Human beings should be more like birds. This is my mother’s new favourite line. As we took a road trip through Mount Cameroon together, she pointed out the birds and the reason for her utterance. I apologize in advance for lacking the proper nomenclature for the avian in question. So, the male avian constructs it’s nest from palm tree leaves and once it is complete, he sets about finding a mate. Once he has selected one, he proceeds to court and woo her through song and dance. If he is successful, they move into the nest together Continue reading “Build a new nest”

Your life is in my hands

When we go in for surgery, we put all our trust in the medical doctors. We allow them to put us in a medically induced coma and cut into our flesh. We also trust them to prescribe chemicals that we will ingest hoping that the side effects they warn us about will be manageable and if we are lucky a no show. We put our lives in their hands and trust that we will come out unscathed and the better for it. Trust – willingness to rely on the actions of another person.

Continue reading “Your life is in my hands”

As someone who has been journalling for over 20 years and am still going, this is affirmation that I am … Continue reading

Why do you talk …(insert race here)?

I started my childhood in NYC but I now call the great city of Atlanta home. This colorful place never fails to serve up some form of entertainment; from pretty boys in heels and purses to various unique accents. About a month ago, I watched a video by a South African young lady who in poetry form told the story about being called out for talking white. Her response was that she could not help but talk white as she was speaking a white language. Continue reading “Why do you talk …(insert race here)?”