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 …

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 …

“…wings of her own.”

I wrote this poem seven years ago. Bon Throwback Thursday.   Mrs. Birdman   When he finally lands, the odds are that she’ll be waiting for him by the riverside. He’ll tell marvelous tales of the sweet air up there, of racing with skylarks and ravens, that near-miss with the eagle… She’ll tell him that Billy …