A Bluebonnet in Nod

Personal essays in draft one

[abluebonnetinnod]

Short Stories

July 11 is my giant baby sister’s birthday. More importantly, it’s FREE SLURPIE day. Slurpies have calories, so I always try to fight the urge when a craving’s a commin’, but today after I took my dogs to the park, I left feeling parched, so, I was like, “Treat yo self.” Happened to be driving past a 7-Eleven and thought, now or never now or never, and swerved smoothly into the the parking lot. I got inside and the lady tells me that the SLURPIE MACHINES ARE BROKEN.

 I read something on the interwebs earlier in the day that prompted me to commit to being more gregarious towards my acquaintances. Later that night, I took my dogs on their bedtime pee walk. Our walk was a little earlier than usual, so I thought, ehh, why not shake things up a bit?, and took my dogs on a different route. I ended up in my apartment complex’s courtyard and notice another dog owner out -- I think I know him! I immediately turn my dogs around and book it to the opposite end of the courtyard, but right before I round the corner, the guy goes, “Hey Lonny!” I mumble a “Hey, how are you,” and speed walk back to my apartment.

[brimalandro]

please watch this.

[excima]

I hate him but oh my god

[brimalandro]

i can’t hate him anymore i’m sorry 

[husssel]

Yo

[aminatou]

I can’t stand him but oh my god there’s so much happening here. worlds had been colliding

[aminatou]

The safest way to get what you want is to try and deserve what you want

Are You Successful? If So, You’ve Already Won the Lottery - The New York Times (via aminatou)

[abluebonnetinnod]

To land somewhere unfamiliar is to force yourself into alertness, to redraw whatever maps you have, to set the stage for creativity more than mere pattern-matching productivity.

Nathan Heller

[abluebonnetinnod]

Sisters. White sisters. Sometimes white ladies, whether they are well-intentioned or not – it doesn’t really matter, and I’ve been this person – say something that they think is super supportive … that then starts more of a conversation, but they’re not really prepared for the conversation. They kind of want to be just, like, applauded, for saying the right thing that their black friends would go, “Yeah, you did a really great job! Pat on the back! You are a good white person,” and then move along ... and they’re not actually prepared for the dialogue that comes out. I think something that is really important is just to listen. If you don’t know, just listen.

Lena Dunham

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I'm bracing for the pain and I am letting go

Rihanna

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TIME

I’m in my twenties. I should feel so alive. I should be brimming with energy. I should have dreams; aspirations; hope. But whenever I read a line saying that we twenty-something-year-olds have so much time, my eyes start to sting a little, and the empty feeling in my chest stirs to remind me that we are wrong. Some of us have limited time.

Time slipped through my fingers in a matter of minutes on a Tuesday night in March when I was met with a series of surprise asthma attacks. A few hours earlier, I left work scrambling to get home to walk my poms, but now, here I was lying on the ground next to the bathroom, struggling with all my strength in a last ditch effort to open my airways by crawling into my bathroom to run hot water in the shower. My lungs wouldn’t budge. I was 28 years old and had just experienced what I thought was the final failure of my life: Failing to breath. At that moment, I realized I was going to die.

I always imagined what my last thoughts would be the moment before my death. Would I have flashbacks of my childhood? Would I think of my parents and sisters? Would I see God? My last thought was of my dogs. How I was leaving them too soon. How I could not tell them goodbye and that once I left my apartment I would never return.

With deep sadness in my heart, I dialed 911. My last words were, “I can’t breathe,” and then there was darkness.

[abluebonnetinnod]

The best things happen by chance

Dory

[abluebonnetinnod]

Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal. Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks.

Warshan Shire

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For Tanza

She is the reason why I write. My first pen pal, the woman who equipped me with the stationary I put pen to for years recounting my days to her, who taught me the difference between “it’s” and “its” and scolded me for not having learned the difference sooner. 

She exposed me to bologna and mustard sandwiches, which I looked forward to eating every summer visit and forced me to eat the beets on my pizza and the peas with my sausage which I still avoid to this day. 

She was a strong, independent, and educated woman who ignited my desire to travel; never forgetting to send back trinkets of the places she ventured off to.

She was the heart of the Alfred clan. Her home was the homing ground for family holidays. Out would come the many boxes of pictures depicting stolen moments of time of generations past. Through her photos, I learned of my great grandfather whom I never met, of the Mississippi house my father spent his summers at, the sugar sandwiches my aunts and uncles snacked on as children. She was our family historian; surrogate mother to every niece and nephew and every grandniece and grandnephew. 

She was because her heart no longer beats. Beneath the ground she will go, leaving behind a husband, two brothers, two sisters, her mother, and nieces and nephews. In the ground, she will join her father and youngest brother.

[abluebonnetinnod]

gochujang

is now an entry in the AP Style Guide.  huzzah

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What this girl at 30 thought life would be like

I’ve been a sucker for “What I thought my 20s would look like” articles since 2010 when, in that year I realized that “Hey, I’m in my 20s and this is not what I expected.” 

For the most part, I agreed with the authors of those articles. Heaven, to me, was standing in my tiny kitchen with nothing but panties on, eating 2 bowls of sugary cereal for dinner. These days, I have since traded in my cereal for a fork and an entire pan of brownies. Betty Crocker, that is.

Now in my late 20s, I find myself attracted to more refined articles like “10 things you have to do every year in your 20s,” and “How long can I wait until I absolutely, positively must go to the doctor?” So when I came across an article titled “What I thought 30 would look like,” I thought I hit the jackpot, because I only have a little over a year until I cross over to the dark side.

I thought I still had some learning to do to prepare me for my wonder years, but according to this female, I must be well into my 30s because who doesn’t know how to walk in heels? Yes, she still doesn’t know how to walk in heels. We all have the same 24 hours in a day that Beyonce does, so if Queen B can pop and lock on a stage in 4 inch heels, we ladies can certainly fine tune our clickity clacking until we can clickity clack rhythmically down any street.

Oh, but there’s more: She doesn’t know how to make a bed, how to make lasagne, how to braid hair... Bish whet? Okay, maybe I should give her a break because at the time this article was published, she was a brand new 30 year old, BUT THAT’S NO EXCUSE TO NOT KNOW HOW TO BRAID HAIR!!!!!! I don’t even think we’re even taught how to braid hair. I’m pretty sure we all came out our mother’s wombs already knowing how to do it. 

She did make one good revelation about why the movie “13 going on 30″ was called that and not “13 going on 20.″ Our 20s are going to involve a lot of downs and it’s going to be hard, but that also means we’re going to enter our 30s with a lot of lessons learned and (hopefully) a better idea of what we’re doing. Except she will still not know how to properly make a bed.

[abluebonnetinnod]

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[otherpeoplearemoreinteresting]

“Texture, shape and colour blending samples for next week’s Intermediate / Weaving 201 workshop at @studio126yvr! As I’m making these I’m getting more and more excited…😀🎉 Details for this class are a few posts back and the registration link is in the profile… your only pre-requisite is some basic weaving experience, your own loom and a desire to learn more! –only 2 spots left–” by @luposkitt on Instagram http://ift.tt/1Ujs3IS