Aside from the obvious change in design, there are a few other changes I have made to my blog for what I am going to call its rebirth.
But before I point them out, I would first like to welcome any new readers I may have gotten from Twitter or Instagram, and thank my tried and true original readers for sticking with me.
As you will learn very quickly, I am 5 feet of pure sarcasm and random-osity. (Remember that one?)
I started this blog in July 2009 because people kept telling me that this is where I belong -- and it served me quite well to document whatever college life I did have. It is like a diary -- but better. Mostly because I can entertain and relate to people with my unedited and unfiltered thoughts. Fortunately for you all, I have never been one to be overly emotional or sappy. (And whenever I do have those random moments that remind me that I am, in fact, a woman, I never really get to sharing them in this public manner.)
So again, I say, welcome.
I switched around my profile and my blog posts, which you will now find on the left. I have also added two tabs up top: This Week's Favourite and Life Through My Lens. The first of the two I will dedicate to one of my older blog posts, one I wrote perhaps when no one was following or reading. I find it quite entertaining to go back and read some of the things I wrote when I was younger, and that page is to hoping you will as well.
The latter of the two is where I will post photos, mostly of nature, that I take with my iPhone. (Oh come on, you knew I was going to switch sooner or later. But I won't ever speak badly about my Blackberry, though, as many a blog were written in my Notes at the very moment I got inspiration.)
Most of the photos I post there will be my unedited property, unless otherwise stated. So please, look but don't take.
For this week, my favourite blog post is a light-hearted post from July 2009.
I hope you enjoy.
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Monday, 6 August 2012
Pride and Celebration
As if we needed another reason to be extremely proud of our little island paradise, Jamaicans all across the world spent the weekend celebrating and rejoicing with a pride unmatched, perhaps, by any other country.
Over the weekend we celebrated two gold, one silver and one bronze medal at the Summer Olympics -- all from track and field. (And for just two events, I would say that's quite a sweep.)
Today we celebrate 50 years of independence, and if there was ever a time when I felt like I was hugely missing out, it does not compare one bit to how I feel now, and how I felt over the weekend as I watched Bolt, Fraser-Pryce, Campbell-Brown and Blake make Jamaica's presence known at the 2012 London Olympics.
I can just imagine the immensity of the celebrations on the island as the entire population paused yesterday to see Bolt break the Olympic Record he set four years ago. I pictured how Negril put ATI and Dream Weekend on a full pause, as all the drunken party-goers sat around the nearest TV together to watch history. I thought about my country, coming together, to be proud supporters and vicarious cheerleaders of another island-bred legend -- meanwhile the US diaspora had to wait upward of 8 hours to see the broadcast on NBC.
Be not mistaken, though. Neither Twitter, BBM nor FaceBook was my informant yesterday, as brother unlucky, mother dearest, Dino-myte, Kat and I sat around a live stream on the computer and watched the races in real time, in conjunction with our home country - and every one else around the world.
And the celebrations ensued in Jamaica after the 9.63 seconds of pure brilliance, to continue into tomorrow, I'm sure, for the country's independence. To celebrate 50 years of being the likkle, but tallawah, island nation that breeds some of the most diverse, warm and prideful people, bears some of the sweetest and nicest produce, and boasts some of the most beautiful land.
The celebrations continued in my house, too, as brother unlucky turned 24 yesterday and we had the family over to cut cake. Though delayed, we did get to gather around the TV with our family to watch the broadcast of races, again, and be proud of our country from the comfort of our living room.
But not being in Jamaica for the Olympics and the 50th Independence at the same time is definitely a double box across the face.
Over the weekend we celebrated two gold, one silver and one bronze medal at the Summer Olympics -- all from track and field. (And for just two events, I would say that's quite a sweep.)
Today we celebrate 50 years of independence, and if there was ever a time when I felt like I was hugely missing out, it does not compare one bit to how I feel now, and how I felt over the weekend as I watched Bolt, Fraser-Pryce, Campbell-Brown and Blake make Jamaica's presence known at the 2012 London Olympics.
I can just imagine the immensity of the celebrations on the island as the entire population paused yesterday to see Bolt break the Olympic Record he set four years ago. I pictured how Negril put ATI and Dream Weekend on a full pause, as all the drunken party-goers sat around the nearest TV together to watch history. I thought about my country, coming together, to be proud supporters and vicarious cheerleaders of another island-bred legend -- meanwhile the US diaspora had to wait upward of 8 hours to see the broadcast on NBC.
Be not mistaken, though. Neither Twitter, BBM nor FaceBook was my informant yesterday, as brother unlucky, mother dearest, Dino-myte, Kat and I sat around a live stream on the computer and watched the races in real time, in conjunction with our home country - and every one else around the world.
And the celebrations ensued in Jamaica after the 9.63 seconds of pure brilliance, to continue into tomorrow, I'm sure, for the country's independence. To celebrate 50 years of being the likkle, but tallawah, island nation that breeds some of the most diverse, warm and prideful people, bears some of the sweetest and nicest produce, and boasts some of the most beautiful land.
The celebrations continued in my house, too, as brother unlucky turned 24 yesterday and we had the family over to cut cake. Though delayed, we did get to gather around the TV with our family to watch the broadcast of races, again, and be proud of our country from the comfort of our living room.
But not being in Jamaica for the Olympics and the 50th Independence at the same time is definitely a double box across the face.
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
Pause, Playback, Rewind.
And just like that, it is August already.
No one told me when I graduated from high school that the creator was going to press the magic fast-forward button of life to make the next few years zoom by like trees on the side of the highway. You can see them, and if you wind your window down you may be able to smell them, but the sad and scary fact is that they pass by so quickly that though you know they are there, know what they look like, and know you saw them, you don't really get the chance to look at the individual leaves and parts that make the beautiful whole unless you make a valiant effort to ... stop ... moving.
That is how I feel about my life for the past four years.
I went through college in what seemed like an accelerated vacuum, and though I don't think I have enough hindsight just yet to say "those were the best times of my life", I can't say I went away and did anything too out of the ordinary or insane. Part of this, I suppose, is due to the fact that I spent a good 80 percent of that time in a long-distance relationship, which by nature kept me from really wanting to go anywhere or do anything that didn't involve seeing my significant other. (And I surely don't regret that, by the way.) But the other part, the part that most people found quite abnormal, was that I spent a lot of that time going back home to mummy and going out of town to visit my brother.
Those four years away from home did nothing more than make me closer to the people I thought I left behind.
Needless to say, this is something I am very proud to state. (Maybe not so much the fact that I moved back home, but hey. We all know writers don't get paid much unless they murdered -- but not really -- someone and decided to write a book about how they did it, even though they didn't.)
Though I look forward to my independence and certainly value my alone time, I am glad I have a little time, and certainly the opportunity, to slow down and figure out where this life is going to take me next. And if it's one thing I can say I am extremely happy I experienced, going to Australia for a little less than two months last summer was perhaps the best thing I could have ever done in college, besides pass of course.
Knowing that you can do something is always a good feeling. But knowing that you did it, well, there is nothing quite as self-actualizing.
I have big dreams, you know. And most of them consist of living at least a few years of my now "adult-life" by being a globetrotter -- ideally one who gets paid to write about her sightings and experiences.
But even if I don't get paid, you can surely expect to see those writings right here on this blog where I have pitched my tent and made my home.
Cheers.
No one told me when I graduated from high school that the creator was going to press the magic fast-forward button of life to make the next few years zoom by like trees on the side of the highway. You can see them, and if you wind your window down you may be able to smell them, but the sad and scary fact is that they pass by so quickly that though you know they are there, know what they look like, and know you saw them, you don't really get the chance to look at the individual leaves and parts that make the beautiful whole unless you make a valiant effort to ... stop ... moving.
That is how I feel about my life for the past four years.
I went through college in what seemed like an accelerated vacuum, and though I don't think I have enough hindsight just yet to say "those were the best times of my life", I can't say I went away and did anything too out of the ordinary or insane. Part of this, I suppose, is due to the fact that I spent a good 80 percent of that time in a long-distance relationship, which by nature kept me from really wanting to go anywhere or do anything that didn't involve seeing my significant other. (And I surely don't regret that, by the way.) But the other part, the part that most people found quite abnormal, was that I spent a lot of that time going back home to mummy and going out of town to visit my brother.
Those four years away from home did nothing more than make me closer to the people I thought I left behind.
Needless to say, this is something I am very proud to state. (Maybe not so much the fact that I moved back home, but hey. We all know writers don't get paid much unless they murdered -- but not really -- someone and decided to write a book about how they did it, even though they didn't.)
Though I look forward to my independence and certainly value my alone time, I am glad I have a little time, and certainly the opportunity, to slow down and figure out where this life is going to take me next. And if it's one thing I can say I am extremely happy I experienced, going to Australia for a little less than two months last summer was perhaps the best thing I could have ever done in college, besides pass of course.
Knowing that you can do something is always a good feeling. But knowing that you did it, well, there is nothing quite as self-actualizing.
I have big dreams, you know. And most of them consist of living at least a few years of my now "adult-life" by being a globetrotter -- ideally one who gets paid to write about her sightings and experiences.
But even if I don't get paid, you can surely expect to see those writings right here on this blog where I have pitched my tent and made my home.
Cheers.
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