Blogtober #19: Geneva.

In 2004, I visited dear friends who lived in Pontarlier, France. Since Pontarlier is located close to the Swiss border, my friend Clara advised that I fly to Geneva, Switzerland, and she would pick me up from there. Yes, thoughts of Switzerland danced in my 24 year-old head. It was the most beautiful place I …

Blogtober #12: Flashback Friday to Summer.

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 …

be our guest.

There we all are, sitting in our living room in our old house in Ghana, surrounded by endless laughter and fascinating conversations. My parents are there; also uncles, aunts, various relatives, and longtime family friends that might as well be kin to us, being that I've known them and have been around them for as …

Meanwhile, in Paris…

...champagne on the balcony with the Le Tour Eiffel peeking at you from behind those trees. I want to go back. Maintenant. (Now.) Bon Tuesday. (p.s..: I have a whole board on Pinterest called "Meanwhile, in Paris". Feel free to follow. Click up top on the social media links and you're there.)

when they met.

If you haven't heard, a total solar eclipse took place yesterday, August 21. Pretty historical stuff. I was excited beyond words, not necessarily because of the historicity of it or the celestial phenomenon, per se. I, This Square Peg, a writer of words and a purveyor of poetry, have used the moon as an allegorical …

Salon/Stylist Stories.

Our intriguing, perplexing, awesome, mind-boggling, revolutionary, interesting, and life-changing relationship/journey began when I was 11 years old. This was when my mother took me to my first hair salon. It was owned by a Ghanaian woman who ran the salon from her apartment. I was terrified. No surprise there. If you know anything about me so far, …

Meanwhile, in Paris…

...I don't know what it is about Parisian doors. Maybe it's the promise of all the macarons that await me inside? Could it be the handsome homme who awaits me inside, armed with the yummy crepes that he made me for brunch? Or maybe it's the lovely architecture of the les portes themselves, so artistic and majestic and ready to …