Ever hear a song that just gives you that Friday feeling? Lovely melody, lyrics, catchy rhythm, and a voice that is just divine? Here’s Emeli Sande’s new single. I. Adore. Emeli.
Download it like I just did and play it this fine Friday, won’t you?
My LifeStyle, My Melanin, Me: Off the Beaten Path.
Ever hear a song that just gives you that Friday feeling? Lovely melody, lyrics, catchy rhythm, and a voice that is just divine? Here’s Emeli Sande’s new single. I. Adore. Emeli.
Download it like I just did and play it this fine Friday, won’t you?
Late entry this Saturday eve. It was a long work day and then this lady fell into a hard nap after work. I’m sure you’ll agree that naps hit different when you’re not 12 anymore. I basically slept. 🤷🏾♀️
Yesterday, I mentioned that October is my favorite month. Here are four reasons why:
1. My dear Ma gave birth to me in the month of October.
2. There’s something about the name of the month itself that I find pleasing to the ear. Phonics. October.
3. Back in Somewheres, VA, my hometown, autumn flourished during October; the trees bore endless shades of violent and burnt orange, the air was so crisp and lovely. It was unbearably beautiful.
4. October reminds me of James Taylor, my favorite singer-songwriter. Listen to his song Walking Man. Goodness. If the melancholy of autumn was ever put to song…
Your favorite thing about fall? Or your favorite month? I await you in the comments.
Readers, we’ve been together for 26 straight autumn days. Blogtober has T-5 days left. I don’t know what to do with myself. Or…do I?
Ha! We’re not even done yet. But I wanted to do that. And you get one, too, for sticking with me and reading and liking and commenting and following. The real MVPs? You.
Happy Fall Friday, bon weekend, and see ya tomorrow.
Even with endless rainy days (it’s been raining here for a full two weeks, reader) and minor disappointments in life (I’ll spare the details and provide them for another post, but let’s give you one clue: men), you’ll find This Square Peg moving in some fashion during the day. Even if it’s chair dancing at the office, a little jig in the ladies’ loo, full out imitations of Janet Jackson’s Pleasure Principle video in the gym–I’m always moving.
Little joys that come from responding to the songs in my ear and/or the songs in my head. Can’t beat that. At some point today, dance if you can.
Happy Fall Friday, just keep swimming (which we’re doing here in Texas), and bon weekend.
No, this post isn’t necessarily about fall, although the last day of my trip occurred in September. But we’re flashbacking today, so it’s all good. Anywho, this past Labor Day weekend, I left on a jet plane to visit a good friend of mine who lives in Orange County, CA. Despite the fact that it was a short trip/brief vacation, it was also the respite I needed and thoroughly welcomed. We haven’t had an in depth discussion of my enduring love of California, have we? Well, if I had all the dollar dollar bills in the world, your Square Peg would hightail it to San Diego faster than you could say high cost of living. (Which is why I chose Texas instead of my beloved blue sky San Diego.) See below for a slide show of my fun trip.
Happy Fall Friday, y’all. See ya on the weekend.
#24: It was lovely being off work on Thursday. This is what I did, rather than blog. Sorry. Well, not really.
#25: Since it’s Black Friday, here’s a poem I wrote a few years ago, entitled, naturally, Black Friday.
and so she believed the hype.
she tipped her head toward the heavens and waited for the stars to descend into her eyes, and she waited, so quietly, to hear a skip, a jump, a tiny hop within her heartbeat, and she gazed at him and waited for an infiltration of memory to imprint his every nuance and niche…
they didn’t tell you, did they, honey?
you may leave with a shiny new gadget after that doorbuster sale, my dear, but hype isn’t the heart, and the feeling of his hand in yours will never not feel like a bag of nails tapping at the soft flesh of your confused palm.
behind silly platitudes and empty love songs is nothing but air and the truth and you.
and so you believed the hype.
and you were duped, conned, swindled, sandbagged, hoodwinked, and yes, so sadly bamboozled.
but didn’t you know?
when did love ever need a sale?
My bestie is coming to town this evening, you guys. The bestie! Needless to say, I basically want to tap dance out of here so we can start our fun. And yet morning just began, so…Anyway, she’s my first visitor since I moved to Texas. Wonder how she’ll react to the absence of furniture.
Bon weekend, my dears.
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 cool, no?
Anyway, this morning, I decided that my new wig needed a name. And why not? I name all the other inanimate objects in my life. Cars (Kelly Kapowski Corolla for my first car and um, Idris for my current vehicle), pens, etc. After mulling it over and realized that this particular wig is classy and smooth, I named her Geneviève. Yep, with the French spelling and pronunciation. The name Genevieve (American style) has always slayed me; I went to school with a Genevieve and was struck with wonder by her interesting name. Years later, when I wrote The Cruelty Papers, a short story that kind of transformed things for me as a writer, the protagonist was named–you guessed it–Genevieve. But the story doesn’t end there. When I first went to Europe in 2004, my lovely hostess and friend Clara and I were talking about baby names one afternoon, as we sat in a park in Geneva, Switzerland. (Sounds like a dream, no? Looking back, sometimes it seems like it was.) It was a random conversation for sure; at the time, she and her hubby didn’t have children and weren’t planning on having them (that changed some years later) and I loved discussing creative baby names but had no plans on birthing any (that hasn’t changed lol). Anyway, I told her about my love for the name Genevieve.
Clara: Ah, Geneviève. (Gen-e-vee-ève)
Me (gaping at her and drooling): I love the way you say it.
Clara (smiling): Yes, it’s the French way.
Indeed.
Bid a bonjour to Geneviève, won’t you?
The last pic on the far right is from today, as we e-speak.
Happy Friyay, y’all, and bon weekend.
I’ve said it before: we’re all weirdos. See the following.
There is it, folks. A few quirks and oddities that I contentedly call my own. For the record, I certainly believe that “weirdness” is all relative; life would be quite shapeless and gray without the downright different ways we all perceive things. So take a deep breath, install Google on your smartphone, and enjoy your life.
Bon weekend, mes amis.