Tag Archives: friends

The “Come-Back”


You haven’t seen your high school class mates in 10 years, then suddenly you get the chance to meet them again and the thought of the reunion sets your anxiety wheels spinning. You start pondering things like  ‘Will they like me like?’,  ‘ Will they welcome me in the fold?’ ‘What if I don’t fit in’ or worse ‘What if they don’t like what I have to say”. Very soon, your own thoughts become overwhelming that you decide against attending. By so doing, you’ve judged your class mates in the same harsh way you feared you’d be judged and withdrew their BOD card.

That has been me in the last few weeks. I have missed writing so much which is the one thing that gives me —well, confidence. But even more than missing writing, I have dreaded the “come-back”. Scared that the few people who used to read no longer care. That my blog has been forgotten. Scared of starting over. I realized I  was being overtly critical and just needed to take the leap to jump back out there. After all, I do have a lot to say. In the few months since I stopped writing, so much has happened that even if no one read, it would serve as much needed therapy for me.

2017 was an ok year, not my best but not bad by any standards. I finally graduated (Yay)  and got a job 4 months later, although not quite in my field. Then my pregnant sister who was having a difficult pregnancy visited almost immediately after I started work, that was fun. Literally. Then came 2018. Work has been good, got in 2 accidents within 2 weeks and I’m moving apartments in a few days to finally be on my own again. (Whoop whoop).

Yeah, A. LOT. HAS. HAPPENED. I am hoping to finally settle in, in my own life ( if you can belief that. Ha!) and hopefully get my grove back. (haha Stella)

I look forward to getting back to my blog and I am excited to share these stories. I want to say thank you first to all those who follow this blog, I have never taken you for granted and I marvel that you actually want to read what I have to say. Thank you for coming back and I cannot wait to get to back in the flow. Say, how are you feeling today? 🙂

Of These I Dream Of You…


I know every line on your face; the permanent wrinkles on your forehead stressed from past unrequited love, the dent in your cheeks when you are amused and the crease in your chin when you laugh too hard. I like that these lines are my secret window into your soul; revealing your angst when you’re trying to be calm, unveiling your passion when you’re trying to be brave and showing your tenderness when you’re trying to be tough. I know all the lines in your face because I have dreamt it up more times than I can remember. It’s not only the face, it’s your being and the experiences that sum-up the man you are. Of these I dream of you.

That our meeting would be an epic comedic scene that even Jim Carrey couldn’t conceptualize if he tried to. And whether it’s in public or private, you would have eyes for no one else but me because in that moment, you’d be too entranced by my aura and vying for my attention desperately. Some wooing dates later and we would be an official pair, caught up in our own love story – an extraordinary love affair.

I dream of every moment spent with you being an adventure; that even though we are celibate, we’re comfortable exploring the subject. How you make me feel like the only girl in the world with your piercing glare and how even in the silence, you are one with my soul.

I have dreamed of the fights too and boy do they terrify me. That I would loose the one best thing that has happened to me in a while because of a loud mouth that must always blab everything that comes to it. How the need to assert my independence makes you proud yet frustrated. That all these years later, I never learned how not to pick my nose and how you hate that I am really not as confident as I’d like people to think.

I would dream of you choosing us over and over again when we seem to be at the end of our road. How you’d embrace my family and make it yours, and how you’d be the friend that my friends don’t talk to often but when they do, you had never left. That every tear shed braises your heart to reaffirm to you why you’d try hard to never see them again.

And I dream that home would be anyplace we are together, that you’d cherish my random dancing spurts and tolerate my temporary insanities. That when my weight retreats me into a cocoon, you’d know just how to bring me out. And I’d love how despite these, you’d love me aggressively. I dream that you’d come to appreciate my over vivid imaginations sometimes, because as you can already tell, I live in my head a lot. These are the things I dream of you.

How Soon Is Too Soon When Grieving?

How soon is too soon when it comes to moving on after a loss? Is there a designated time frame for grief? what is considered “moving on too soon?” How long is the grieving period and who determines it? Do you ever stop grieving?

So it’s been a little over a month since God called my older sister but I couldn’t make it home (home is in Cameroon – Central Africa) for the burial because of a few reasons, some which I could have controlled and others not so much. I tried to be a part of the event as much as I could and my parents did their best etching the ceremony with every detail for me to grasps.

Everyone who attended agreed as I had mentioned in my tribute post for her that she was indeed an angel. The sign for them was the fact that, rain which had been pouring nonstop for a month ceased for three days straight, allowing for a smooth flow of affairs including her return into the soil from which she was made.

A part of me refused to accept her death when I just found out, which is the reason why some of my friends still don’t know I lost my sister. After talking with my parents at length, reminiscing on her beautiful existence albeit troubled, we all agreed that she was finally resting. She had suffered enough and God had decided it was time she rested from the struggle. With that new understanding, we acceded to see it as a celebration of her life instead of a life lost.

Acknowledging this did not negate her absence from us, neither did it mean we didn’t grieve her because the fact remains that she is no longer here with us. So in the days since her passing, I have had to pause in the midst of “happenings” to remind myself that I am grieving.Sometimes I fear that people will think I moved on too quickly or that I don’t look like someone who lost a loved one barely 5 weeks ago.

I had planned a mini-vacation with my best friend before the tragedy struck two weeks prior. We ended up going for the trip anyways at the scheduled time but I couldn’t stop feeling guilty while we were away. My aunt and uncle looked at me askew when I mentioned the trip but I made nothing of it until now. I have been trying to get back to the blog too and have had few topics to write on but It never felt right for me to just come here and continue writing on random topics without addressing the issue.

It seems I put these pressures on myself right? But they are not unfounded given the society we live in now. Too often, people are quick to pass judgements on how people should live their lives including how one should grieve but do not realize that people grieve differently. While some do better constantly reflecting and withdrawing from society after such a loss, others immerse themselves in and get lost in it. It is all about a finding the coping mechanism that works best for you and that something worked for you, doesn’t necessarily mean it will work for someone else.

Until you wear the shoes, you will never know exactly where it pinches most. So before you ask me to come down from my horse as no one has made me the spokesperson for the aggrieved, you should know I was one of the outsiders who criticized people about either their method of grieving or “moving on” too quickly.

Two truths prevail here which are; life continues whether we accept it or not and secondly; in my view, we never really stop grieving. The best way to honor my sister I have found, is to live a better life that she would be proud of and that means carrying on with life. Also, I don’t think I will ever stop missing her because she was a huge part of my life. I will just learn to deal with the void better. Whereas crying was instantaneous when I thought of her; now, pangs of pain, of longing, of sadness rip me inside and it is at such times I have to remind myself that she is resting with God, with her maker and creator.

When next you see a picture of that woman/man on social media smiling or simply living their life after a loss, do not be quick to judge because that might just be their way of dealing with the loss. There is no set period for grieving and there is definitely nothing as moving on too quickly. We never stop grieving either, we get use to it but the void remains.

To all those grieving the loss of a dear loved one, may God console you and yours in only the way that He can and may you find understanding, solace and comfort in His arms, believing that your dearly departed has returned to the Creator. Be blessed.

When Life Doesn’t Throw You Lemons

Here I am making a yet another comeback after months of being away. This was totally unplanned and unprecedented. I missed the WordPress world, reading other powerful articles and I missed writing. It has been a few rough months, I tried to pick myself up and write but even inspiration eluded me.

I had an outlook of how I wanted to spend my summer. I had planned to read ten books; broadening my genres further, volunteer more, learn Spanish, write an article every week for my blog since I was out of school the summer and get to know other blogs and bloggers. Alas, my outlook didn’t materialize and my reality was a lot grim.

There is the saying that “when life throws you lemons, you make lemonades”. I happen to love lemonade and so I will squeeze the juice out of those lemons to have as much lemonade as I possible could but what do you do when life throws you rotten lemons? I have always understood that expression to mean that when things don’t quite pan out, make do with the situation.

It has been a rough few weeks which I totally didn’t anticipate. The company I worked for wasn’t doing so well, so a lot hours had to be cut. The moment I got in on that information, I started looking for a supplemental/replacement job. I should have started sooner because my hours kept reducing to almost nothing and I couldn’t seem to find another one quick enough.

My friend dubbed me the “the interview pro”, that’s because at some point, I was going for at least one interview every week. Things became extremely hard, my bills kept piling up yet I wasn’t seeing a way out. Thankfully my lease was ending in May or I would have been thrown out, I had to make the hard decision to downsize from my one bedroom apartment to getting roommates.

By June, my car was almost repossessed until a family friend step in and took care of the car note for me.My last month living alone was almost a nightmare; a lot of my bills were past due which meant I had no water, no electricity,  no heat, no gas, no internet. As if that wasn’t enough, things seemed to only worsen with my boyfriend  and my family drama was unending.I was living a nightmarish dream which wouldn’t stop.

I am one of the most optimistic people I know; friends and coworkers would say I am that person who laughs even when nothing is funny or even when there is nothing to laugh about. In any difficult situation, I always find that I am the voice of hope, encouraging people, motivating them and assuring them that it will all be ok. But when it was time to be optimistic and stay positive for me, I checked out.

I have never been so scared in my life. I agree that there are people facing even tougher situations than I did but the truth of the matter is, our realities are different. My reality maybe a walk in the park for them whilst theirs might be a trip to hell for me. Oh the things we take for granted. Who knew not having gas to make a decent meal, or just hot water to shower or money for gas to get to an interview could be so threatening.

If that was God’s test for me, I think I might have failed woefully. I have been through a tougher situation than this but I think anytime your livelihood is threatened, you panic and that is exactly what I did. It was difficult to stay optimistic when all those interviews weren’t translating to offers, it was hard to stay positive when I wasn’t sure how I will make the rent and other bills and definitely hard to laugh when you are showering in -2 degree water in a 30 degree weather.

I should have known, as they say, hindsight is always 20/20. My God had me the whole time. I didn’t get to pay those bills. In fact, they are still piling up but the most important things that I couldn’t do without like a roof over my head or my car to take me on all those interviews were taken care of. He put people in my life who helped me just in the nick of time. They helped me out of the abundance of their hearts but I also know without a doubt that God put it in their hearts to come through for me when they did. I am so thankful to them and forever grateful to the God I serve.

I didn’t get the job I wanted but I got two part time jobs that are paying my rent and car note so far. Still looking to find something better so I can start paying off my debts (the past due bills). I thank God for the wisdom He gave me to downsize, I would have still been in the same hell-hole.

Things are beginning to look up, I am getting back to that bubbly girl that I know. Things might not get back on track fully as I want them to but I hope I don’t loose myself anymore in the chaos. I missed me too. I missed the girl who bursts into spontaneous laughter at silly thoughts, who makes light of every situation, who sometimes cries and laughs at the same time. I got too overwhelmed with my issues that I slowly started leaving a sour taste with some people. I missed the motivator in me, the encourager, the supportive one.

As they saying goes better late than never; we just started July and I have decided to catch up with those goals and do as much as I can before the summer is over. This has strengthened me for any future trials which I do not hope for, shown me my true friends, taught me to be more appreciative, to never loose myself amidst the chaos and most importantly, God always has my back. He is always working intricately behind the scenes making sure I don’t drown and even if it got to that, He would rescue me. This I know for sure.

Happy July Fourth Y’all.

Short Story Thursdays: The Second Date

The phone rang but before it could ring a second time, I lunged in its direction to answer the call I had been waiting for all day.

‘I am here, – in front of your house I hope’. He said with a subtle voice.
‘Ok, will be out in a minute’, I replied. I prayed he hadn’t read the nervousness in my voice as I hurried to join him. On my way out the door, I took a last glance in the mirror and heaped a heavy sigh, ‘Calm down Maggi’ I told myself and rushed out.
‘hmmm, you look very beautiful tonight’ he quipped as he unabashedly examined my contours and outfit. I had donned my favorite pair of blue jeans and a beaded cream top, complete with a pair of nude flats. I had very light make up on and though I was nervous, I was wearing confidence too. I could feel his glare on every ounce of my body but I managed to utter some words in reciprocation.
‘Thank you. You look gorgeous yourself….’ Barely did I finish my sentence when the door to the passenger side swung open, he held it with one hand and with the other, ushered me in. It was the first time I remembered a guy opened the door for me and I felt like a princess. He was clad in sleek jeans and a plain white tee, a navy blazer with a clean fit-to-size sneaker. He accessorized his clean-shaven face with a flat cap.
It was 7pm, the time we had fixed for the date after I took him up on his offer. From the house, he was the sublime gentleman; not just with opening doors before me, but checking in between conversations if I was comfortable. The drive to the restaurant couldn’t be any more pleasant. We had an easy flowing conversation like we knew ourselves for a long time. Heck, we had known each other for a long time, only, not in this intimate sense.
I met him a few months back, when I walked into the Five Guys restaurant to have my first burger. He was the manager on duty and the cashier who took my order; a dialogue stemmed from my revelation that it was the first time I was trying the “best burger” in America as it had been dubbed. My next visits were short but filled with chit-chats here and there. We became good acquaintances who seemed to enjoy short conversations with each other whenever we could. But on one of such visits, we didn’t just chit-chat; we had a good and thoughtful conversation that clearly couldn’t be finished while he worked. So he gave me his number and asked that I call him; normally, I would have disposed of it but figured I might need the distraction sometime and kept it. I liked him enough to want to talk some more, so I called him three days later and here we were, on our way to the date.
He planned for us to dine at a Cuban restaurant after I told him I had never had Cuban food. Unfortunately, arriving at the restaurant, it was closed for renovations. He was disappointed and it was understandable. To be a good sport, I suggested other venues I was comfortable going to. We drove around a few minutes and finally decided on the Olive Garden.
Dinner was wonderful and it wasn’t even the food. It was the way he went about the evening, it was as though I could see through him. His appetite for food and the fine things in life and how free he felt with me, spoon-feeding me in public. We talked over dinner and the conversation was the regular boy-meets – girl-first-date conversations. Our likes, aspirations, families, cultures and stories. He was pretty straight forward and unapologetic about his views on life and other things, which was very refreshing to see in a man.
One of those views was pre-marital sex which he didn’t think was wrong as long as both parties agreed to it and he thought religion was overrated. My view was different from his and we spent a good time on the topic, with him trying to convince me to see things his way and I vice versa. It was a civil discussion with no angst or misgivings.
He asked me to a movie after dinner, to which I agreed. He had been sweet, caring and doting all evening and I wasn’t ready to leave him just yet. ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ was the movie, and for such a late showing, it was packed. We sat at the last but one row in the back to the left. As usual, it was freezing cold in the hall. He noticed me shivering and gave me his jacket, holding me in a tight embrace. The cold seemed to vanish instantly. The warmth radiating from his body coupled with his scent, drew me in deeper and I cradled even closer. It felt good and safe just sitting there, wrapped in his arms.
Assuden, half-way through the movie, in a very soothing voice he asked ‘can I?’
‘Sure’ I replied, not fully understanding what he meant. Before I could process the question further, he launched forward and his lips were against mine. In no time, I grasped what was going on and I leaned in and indulged him. It was a hot, steamy and passionate kiss. Best one I have had yet.
A few hours later, he dropped me home. We both had a great time, evident on his demand for a second date, to which I gladly accepted. He walked me to the door, hugged me so tightly I didn’t want to let go, and kissed me again. He promised to call once he got home, which he did.
It was Sunday evening and I had waited all day for his call, I had anticipated this second date all weekend long. My anxiety gradually dissipated as time went by and by night-time; it dawned on me I had just been stood up, for the first time in my life.
It turned out I would be waiting for days and weeks on end for an explanation from him, detailing why he stood me up which never came. I tried to stop myself from contacting him severally but eventually caved to the temptation. So I sent him a text pretending to check on him but he never replied.
Six weeks passed before I walked in to the Five Guys restaurant to get a burger and there he was. The manager on duty and available cashier who took my order, – yet again. I became nervous and could only hope he didn’t think I came to shove myself in his face but at the very least; he would apologize and explain himself, an explanation I wasn’t sure I fancied anymore.

He didn’t even look me in the face as he took my order. He was very civil and cold at the same time. I was just another customer and he was just doing his job. He never said a word and I stood aghast for what felt like a lifetime. With whatever dignity I had left, I collected my order when it was ready and ran for my car.
It was a befuddled ride home. Like most girls, I had already planned so many adventures for our third and fourth dates. But how was that to ever be if he never showed up for the second?

The Thing About Death Is…

Death is nothing, it’s something, it’s scary, it’s unavoidable, it’s unpredictable, it’s menacing.(feel free to add whatever adjective you wish to describe how you feel about death).

If you follow the news, then by now you know a certain Dr. Miles Monroe died in a plane crash last week November 9th. Dr Miles Monroe was the founder and pastor of Bahamas Faith Ministries, a mega church out of the Bahamas and he was on his way to a global outreach forum that held every year, when he was killed in the plane crash along side his wife and other passengers.

The christian social media platforms have been on fire with so many people in shock, some in wonder how such a man of God could die like that and others in plain disbelief. In the second week since the tragedy, people are still in shock and asking questions, questions like why him, to which we will never have answers to. The common factor in all the emotions shared is death.

Some people are wondering why a man who seemed as upright as Dr Miles would die in such a terrible way, others shocked that he died at all. Death is no respecter of persons. It doesn’t care whether they flew executive or commercial plane. It doesn’t care whether it was Dr Miles or a regular Joe, it was ready to strike and strike it did.  As Christians, the one thing that the Bible tells us we should expect is death because it is inevitable. It says believing that we would live for ever is foolishness and that we should expect to be ‘called’ home by and to our creator.

I don’t know how you feel about death but for me, my death doesn’t scare me so much as that of that of my parents. I am 27 and granted, I still have a lot I want to accomplish and achieve. So many incomplete dreams like me being a published author, finally graduating and going for a doctorate, experiencing amazing love with someone equally amazing, exploring the world and enjoying its spoils, given us by God himself. (My list is too long  right?) Somehow though, I am comfortable with the idea of me dying if it had to be this moment.

Depending on your opinion, I might have lived or not yet lived long enough or I ought to have achieved some of those things I mentioned on my to-do list. Well, there really isn’t no manual on how to live your best life (though some how-to authors would argue me on that). For some it happens earlier and others, it is later. I used to get broody over the fact that stuff happened late for me but I am ok with that now as long as I am working on it.

My point is, even though I am no where close to those dreams, if I was to die this very minute, I would be alright with that because in my heart of hearts, I know, I am certain I am going to my maker, to God, to Heaven.  I couldn’t tell you how I know that,only that I know. I am still in search of my true purpose and the reason why God has me here on earth and I know that if I am still here, it’s because I have not accomplished that purpose yet. But the moment I am dying and  I am aware of it, I know it would be God calling me home because somehow, I must have fulfilled that purpose.

Now my parents death is a whole other ball game. How is it that I am comfortable dying but not ready to let my parents go? you ask. For starters, I am Cameroonian and I am sure other/most Africans will feel the same way, in that my parents have not enjoyed the fruit of their labor yet.

God could not have chosen any better man and woman to bring together to be parents to me and my siblings. If I were to return to this world a second time, I would want the same parents. They have loved me and my siblings selflessly, given up so much to ensure our success, they prayed for us, blessed us and kept us safe in the best way that they could/can. They gave us the best education in Cameroon and they are the very reason I am in this beautiful country called America. They did all that and are still doing all that.

It is a very African thing to take care of your parents when you have succeeded after they have toiled for you, but even if it wasn’t I would still want to do that for them. That is my way of showing them how grateful I am that they answered the call to be my parents and did a marvelous job at it. It is my way of saying thank you for all those years of selfless giving, for all the times they didn’t have but went above and beyond for me and my siblings. It is my way of showing them how much I love, cherish and respect them.

So far, I haven’t had the opportunity to show them that. I just started and I haven’t even gone a quarter of that journey yet. So while I am aware that they are going to die someday, that I will have to say good-bye someday, I know I am not ready for those good-byes just yet. The thought of not having them here with me leaves me teary-eyed every single time. Simply put, their death scares me.

While death is imminent, the means of it is not. If we were all to know that we would die someday and know how we would die, I am almost certain the majority would change how they died. I think what scares us more about death is not even the fact that we would die but how we would die. If Dr Miles knew he was going to die in that crash and have the choice of choosing a better way to die, I am sure he would have chosen it.

Again like the Bible tells us, we neither know the day nor the hour. Death comes like a thief at night to steal us to our maker(hopefully for all of us). I pray and hope Dr Miles family find solace and comfort in God because only He can give them that now and help them deal with it. To our eyes and hopefully to God’s, he was a faithful servant and he must be done with his purpose here on earth. May God grant all those who mourn his loss and that of the other passengers consolation in only the way he can.

For the rest of us, hopefully we strive to live each day better and achieving those dreams, so that when it is time and we know it is time, we can only be glad to return to our maker.

How do you feel about death? Do you ever think about it? How is your day going? Stay warm, the weather this morning is brutal.

peace, love and warm jackets.



Why I HATE Facebook

I logged onto to Facebook to wind time and catch up on what my friends who are distant from me in terms of location have been up to. It was an innocent gesture as always just as it should be, only this time, I noticed was I getting infuriated as I scrolled down to check statuses and see who had a new wardrobe to showcase.

Daniella is dressed in a leopard print dress with matching heels and accessories to die for, the look is completed with a pout that makes her look constipated and she is standing in what I believe is the new model pose with a hand on her right hip in front of The Saks Fifth Avenue.

Robert just updated his status, thanking God for continuous blessings in his life and announcing to the world his new acquisition in form of a house. He says it is in a swanky neighborhood, he can’t believe it’s his and how far he has come. Indeed, God takes care of his own. But he forgets to upload a picture to go along with this new marvelous blessing

Kingsley shares a picture of him leaning against a brand new BMW, hands and legs crossed, head flanking to the side  and his facial expression giving vibes of  “what’s up? look at me, started at the bottom and now i am here” kind of impression. He is wearing jeans and a jacket with sneakers, a look reminiscent of those new breakout hip-hop artists. Yeah, he has made it. Only he is standing by the car and not siting inside or driving.

Charisse just bestowed upon the Facebook world what beautiful marriage she has with her husband with a new album she uploaded.In one of the pictures, they are looking into each others eyes and seem to be lost in the action, in the other, they seem to be whispering to each other words only they can tell and yet in another, they are standing in a pose so intricate you would only see in the movies, yet we get it from the pictures, they are so in love and marriage is just very blissful.

Keira just commented on Sarah’s picture, stating how fat Sarah has become. Berating her about her weight and ordering her to lose weight because she looks ugly now. No man would desire her or even talk to her. It is the beginning of the end of her life as she knows it if she doesn’t jump into action.

These are the different personae and things  I come across on Facebook daily, albeit the fact that I know these people on a personal level. I started wondering why people I know very well and whom I am well aware as they are themselves of their statuses in life found the need to lie on Facebook, and others “kill” with their words.

Who are they trying to impress and who are they keeping up with?. These are the pressures that so many people are facing every day. The need to update a status to let the world know how interesting your life is even when it is not, the burden to upload scores upon scores of albums to show the world what marvelous lives we have, and the shear malice to comment on a photo which you are otherwise not obliged to.

I have been so close to calling these people out on Facebook but then decided against it, really, you never know what it takes for any of us to stay sane without crossing that line. So whatever floats their boat. But it leaves me wondering though, this must be some serious level of low self-esteem. For anyone person to make up things that are far from their truths just to impress people who LITERALLY do not care. Sure, people would look at the pictures, like them and even comment( topic for another day, the lies people tell on FB in the name of comments behooves me every single time) but then what?

It is the unsuspecting folks, those who have no idea what your life is really like, who are totally oblivious  to your reality who fall prey to such traps. They start examining their lives; the cars, the jewelries, the clothes and vacations are nowhere near their radars, yet they work very hard and because of that they start feeling inadequate. They start feeling the urge to show off something in their lives too, anything. And a new monster is born and the cycle continues.

The pressures from FB has turned some people into overnight thieves, others have become professional liars and yet, some have resolved to duplicity altogether; living double lives. The Downings start keeping up with the Roberts who are keeping up with the Joneses who are keeping up with who knows. An unending cycle of silent torture which some are completely unaware they have fallen prey to while some have blatantly refused to pay it any mind.

It is everyone’s prerogative how they choose to live their lives but I think as decent humans that we were made to be, we ought to be courteous to others with the truths of our existence. Our very daily lives. Some people are very fickle and so tend to get caught up in pressures like these which result to saddening events like suicides when they cannot catch up.

So again, I ask, what is the purpose of all that? I know what you are thinking reading this. Well, if it bugs you so much how about you quit Fb? And you are right, which I have done. But what about those who are not strong enough to quit, who have become addicted and cannot seem to stay away from it, what about them?

I like to think that as humans, and being Christian, one of the reason we are here is to look after each other. I certainly cannot tell anyone how to live their lives (where would I begin with the exorbitant numbers on FB) but I do hope that anyone who stumbles on this article takes a moment and ask if their FB profile is helping or hurting. If we stop and think before we update those statuses and upload those pictures or before we hit enter on a derogatory comment, surely the world would be so much better. At least FB would be.

Sorry about such a lengthy post this week( didn’t even say all I intended, but this should do) and thank you for taking the time to read. I appreciate everyone who stops by here. Do share, how are you feeling today?