This was the first photo I took after landing in Ft. Myers Beach. I look at it often to remind me that somewhere on earth, the sun is still shining.

There are more important things to write about. I know this. But to write about Mike Brown or Ferguson or Tamir Rice would be to rip out my heart and smear it all over this here blog and I just don’t have it in me to do that right now. So, because I can’t write about that, I’m going to post some pretty pictures and save my emotions for offline discussions. Maintaining my sanity is important.

I used to be scared of travelling alone. You hear horror stories about the things that befall lone travellers. But minds change and sinking my toes into hot white sand knowing that a soft pillow and a good book await me have changed my mind. Besides which, it never feels like travelling alone when you have friends wherever you seem to go.

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Friendship, New, Relationship


“Alright,” you say and because it bears repeating, you say it again, lean into it a little like it isn’t the detonator of potential heartache. “Alright.”


Fingertips on the back of your neck. Familiar ones that have been there before, rested against your skin and skimmed the tiniest curls of your hairline. Back then, they meant something different, were not gloved with what feels a lot like expectation. For a second you freeze and the fear blooms in your throat. Ahead of you, the pitfalls make themselves known, mock you with their numbers and their capacity for devastation. Then a thumb grazes the nape of your neck and you exhale, your relief fills the space between the two of you and in a moment, you close it completely.


At work, your knee bounces rhythmically against your desk. Two seats away, your boss raises an eyebrow and you press your palm against your leg to keep it still. Your mind, the one responsible for a portfolio of successful projects, the one that houses a neat row of plans for tenancy changes and house improvements and international excursions, turns itself in circles to avoid dwelling. You are not a girl who dwells. Not like this. Still, when your phone buzzes, your stomach turns a cartwheel and your knee slams the desk again. Calm down he texts and you smile in spite of yourself. You smile.


Because you do not know what you are doing, you subconsciously practice sabotage. Calls go unanswered, messages unread. You are sullen in his company. He knows what you are doing and deftly distracts you with conversations about far flung destinations and the things that the two of you hate. He clicks on X Factor and when you groan, he laughs and threads his fingers through yours. You feel his pulse against your wrist. It makes you blush.


You set up rules because since this is something you cannot plan, the least you can do is guard your stone of a heart from being completely shattered. To his credit, he makes no effort to side step them. You surprise yourself by being disappointed.

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When I originally started planning this trip, it was to last for five weeks and I was to bounce from city to city, seeing friends, ingesting my fill of high fructose corn syrup, and dozing in patches of sunlight like a lethargic cat. Then I landed my current job and the trip had to be split in two. Part One took me to the East Coast of the States where I spent 2.5 weeks basking in the company of wonderful people, hoarding EOS lip balms to take home to Mama T and realising that I can work from anywhere and maybe “anywhere” should be NYC and DC for a couple of months next year (more on that another time.)

As always, I documented my visit with some photographs and while a kind person would probably break this up into a couple of posts to save your scrolling finger, kindness, along with my regular sleep pattern, currently eludes me for the most part.

I could have made decent headway into War and Peace in the time it took me to gather up all the photos from my camera and phone, choose which ones I wanted to post, resize and sometimes tweak them, and upload them all to the site. I could also have knitted a scarf, developed a new recipe for bourbon banana brownies, convinced my mother that no, I did not contract Ebola whilst away, and rewired the three-way light switch in the laundry room.

I am ashamed of myself.

But not so much that I will split this into more than one post.

Just so we’re clear: I had the best of times. I am so grateful to know and love so many really excellent people and the stacks of pancakes, piles of barbecued meat, and daytime drinking only served to complement the company.

I’ll be back. Very soon.

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one of the last beautiful evening cycles I had before it started getting dark early. Winter can suck a taint.

Let’s just get into this without preamble shall we?

  1. That you do not judge the fact that once again, I have dropped off the face of this blog for months. Or, if you do judge, you do not do it openly. Bastions of class that you are.
  2. That I have made it into the final quarter of 2014, slightly dented, a tad bruised but mostly fabulous.
  3. That when my tights ripped today, nobody in the office was around to witness my shame.
  4. That Papa T neither contracted Ebola nor was accosted by Boko Haram when he travelled to Nigeria the week before last.
  5. That my new kitchen over which I salivated for many months is as perfect as I envisioned. So perfect that I want to drape myself across a countertop and have someone paint me like one of their French girls.
  6. That Ray Rice’s bitch ass got fired.
  7. That the new fancy bras I purchased are proving adept in securing my boobs and aren’t, despite their appearance, the kind of flimsy charlatans that H&M sells.
  8. That I looked the bomb dot com at the wedding I attended on Saturday and managed to refrain from engaging in fisticuffs with the chief bridesmaid (even though that wench was really tapdancing on my last nerve and was completely deserving of a dressing down.)
  9. That it’s a mere 1.5 months until the wedding of one of my most favourite people in all the world. Nanna, I cannot wait.
  10. That I am leaving the country the day after tomorrow for a long awaited break.
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