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 …

fruit salad.

Can I tell you how much I miss my tropical paradise/coconut/fruit salad? I will. December 2016 was the last time I: saw my curls got the chance to detangle as I go run my fingers through my kinks engaged in hours-long twisting sessions while catching a movie on the Netflix  "tamed" these edges before pushing …

On Smart Cookies.

Let's celebrate this Throwback Thursday with a 'lil story/psychoanalysis/discussion/boatloadof unanswerable questions, shall we? I'll start by saying this: I'm a smart cookie. No shade or ego. I simply own my intelligence. And if you haven't done the same thing, please do. You're not walking around telling perfect strangers that you know it all. You're just …

slay-o’clock.

Well, it was bound to happen. I fell off the wagon. I went back 100 steps. I lost the mojo. In other words: I returned to my sloppily-dressed ways. I've mentioned to you that way back in the day, because of weight and lack of self-esteem and not really knowing who I was as a …

“edge control”? 

Who are the scientists or hairologists that create the gel for those of us with edges that have temperamental minds of their own? They need to work harder. Because people like me with edges like me laugh at these gels, these silly things that do absolutely nothing to tame these rebellious follicles that rest on …

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 …

because I’m petty.

No other way to say it. I just am. Anywho, I wrote this brief essay/diatribe. Happy Tuesday.   Miss Petty Boots 2016 You don’t recognize me, do you? You’re doing that I’m trying to place that face squint with the head tilt to the side, as if the re-positioning of your head and narrowing of your …