If you're an artist (writing, painting, singing, sculpting, dance, figuring out Math equations which, to me, is a true art form), perhaps, like me, your main medium is often influenced by another art form. For example, if you draw, you may love dance as a source of inspiration. As a writer, I find myself inspired by …
i ate a burrito and my stomach turned into an extraterrestrial.
This is a story about peer pressure. Plain and simple. Last night, I pulled up to a stoplight and commenced with my usual voyeuristic observing of the cars and drivers around me. To my right was a guy in an SUV. The first thing I noticed was what appeared to be tears cascading down his …
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Ma Maison et Mon Travail.
Went really French on you, didn't I? But you're used to that. Translated, it means my house and my job. Because, dear readers, after a month in my new surroundings, I'm happy to announce that I was recently hired at a new job and recently moved into my brand new apartment. We will pause for …
306.
No, not the number of tears I've cried. I'm actually doing much better here in the Lone Star State! We'll get to the specifics in tomorrow's post, but for now, I'd like to acknowledge that number. 306 is the number of people currently following the adventures and antics of This Square Peg! It was official yesterday. That …
here.
Yes, I moved. Yes, I hitched up my lady pantaloons and made the decision to start over with new people, new new places, and new things. Yes, I wept when leaving my mother, my brothers, and my sister. Yes, I continued to weep on and off days after arriving in the Dallas area (specifically Carrollton) and …
1,000 cartwheels down a deserted hallway…
...in other words, what I'd like to do to commemorate my last day here at the OK Corral. Since my adolescent gym teachers shamed me for my inability to tumble, therefore ripping that desire out of me for the rest of my days, here's this instead. Happy last day to me! And happy Wednesday to …
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The Day Before.
Sure, you can expect a post on my final day at the OK Corral, my last day in the office, my final 8 hours, my final shift, my final time wondering if the HVAC guys have a vendetta against me, based on how cold it is in this place all year long. But I want …
Geneviève.
That's the name I've given my wig. SN: wigs are like sliced bread when it comes to my eternal love and devotion. I can slap a wig cap over my two-strand twists that I didn't feel like taking out--which is exactly what's going on as we e-speak--and transform my entire look for the day. Pretty …
Odes.
As the days dwindle down and my time in this metropolitan area rapidly passes me by (funny how time never flew when I had no plans to leave; a.k.a., life), I was reflecting on a few things that I will actually miss about living/working in this area. (Positivity, right?) Walk with me. Somewheres, VA, where …
20 (Maybe) Weird Things.
I've said it before: we're all weirdos. See the following. I read over people's shoulders on the train, especially when they have hefty, voluminous books in their hands. I mean, how can I be a legitimate bookworm if I don't hoard what you're reading? If you stand too close to me anywhere, this is clear …
This Square Peg. 