I’ve been doing a lot of introspection, more than usual, especially when I spent 50 hours on an Amtrak train from California to get down South. All of the reflections on my actions and my feelings have brought greater awareness to aspects of myself that I need to put more effort towards improving.
Read MoreYou Gon Make a Heaux Outta Me
A hoe I’ll be
[shoulder shrugs]
30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 7
You don’t know how relieved I am to have opened the WordPress graphic with the 30 writing prompts and find today’s a very simple one.
Completing yesterday’s writing challenge prompt rolled over into today. I’m leaving another birthday dinner for the same girlfriend we turned up for in Houston this whole past weekend, and we’re headed to another bar, so I needed this to be a quickie.
List 10 songs you’re loving right now
Girl Like Me
artist: Jazmine Sullivan
featured artist: H.E.R.
album: Heaux Tales
released: 2021F*ck the World (Summer in London)
artist: Brent Faiyaz
album: Fck The World
released: 2019Gorgeous
artist: SAINt JHN
album: While The World Was Burning
released: 2020Bigger Picture
artist: Lil’ Baby
album: My Turn
released: 2020Pretty Little Fears
artist: 6lack
album: East Atlanta Love Letter
released: 2018artist: J. Cole
featured artist: Lil’ Baby
album: The Off-Season
released: 2021artist: Summer Walker
album: Clear
released: 2019artist: Ari Lennox
featured artist: J. Cole
album: Shea Butter Baby
released: 2019artist: Boosie Badazz
featured artist: Mulatto
album: Talk Dat Shit
released: 2019artist: Tems
album: For Broken Ears
released: 2020
These are in no particular order and not necessarily my top 10 favorite songs, but definitely songs I’ve been vibing along to lately. My music taste is rather throwback, usually. I tried to list current popping songs, or songs that people are listening to in 2022.
Okay, my girl Gab just asked, “girl what are you doing?!” as we’re trying to cross the street midtown Houston. Let me press publish and talk to y’all later, riders!
Update: I returned the following day to add song details such as featured artists, albums and release dates to make this blog post a little more substantial for SEO purposes; it probably won’t help me get listed on the first page of Google for any of these big titles, however, I hope it’ll help differentiate my detailed and fact-checked personal blog website from crappy sites trying to clog up the pipeline. There’s no way I knew the track information off the top of my head; I came back and looked it up.
Dang, I guess I’m still not that up-to-date as I look at these release dates. Haha, ah well!
Treat Me Like I'm Your Baby, And I Will Be
You don’t have to ball out like Lil’ Baby, but you gotta do something.
Read MoreOui, oui! That’ll Be Me
30-day writing challenge, day 5
Whew, it’s Sunday fun-day, but a blog post has to get up every single day for thee entire month during this 30-day writing challenge.
I’ve had a few adult beverages. We’re leaving one spot and headed to another, only 6 minutes away at this point. Let me quickly find that WordPress graphic with the 30 writing prompts.
List 5 places you want to visit.
Well, look at God, giving me an easy one in a time where I didn’t give myself time to get something up here, on my personal blog website.
Sénégal
Saint Tropez
Réunion
Martinique
Saint Lucia
I’m currently squeezing muscles in my pelvic area with all my might, trying to resist my body alerting me that I need to empty my bladder.
We’re looking for a parking spot now. Talk to you later, my Riders 💗
For travels I’ve already taken, or to be the first to hear about these when I go (because I will), visit my travel diary, aroundLAwithTK.com/travel-diary.
My Girlfriends Will Have Me Making Bad Decisions
Post-before-last, of this 30-day writing challenge, “Words That Stuck With Me From My First Boyfriend”, you were greeted by an image of said individual. I enjoy my girlfriends thoroughly, but when I hit the timer to begin writing about a person that inspires me, none of them ended up coming thru my fingertips, though I’m sure I can think of ways these lovely ladies have inspired me (even if it was to make a bad decision). Continue reading and you’ll see why I chose to come back and add this image and title for this blog post.
30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 4
It’s Saturday evening, 8:30pm and I’m running to a reservation for a girlfriend’s birthday. The GPS says we’re only 12 minutes away and I don't like sitting on my phone in public social settings, so I won’t even spend a fraction of the time on this writing prompt as I’ve spent on prompts the first 3 days of this 30-day writing challenge.
Even while running the streets, even if I don’t finish, I’m getting something up here on my personal blog website every single day of this month.
Related: Girl’s Weekend in Houston (TikTok video)
Write About Someone That Inspires You
Whoah, this is a tough one too. There are a number of people that thoroughly inspire me. I truly adore some of the souls I’ve crossed paths with during this short visit on Earth.
My Teedie Terri, my mom’s youngest sister, has a way of connecting with anyone from the most prim and proper to the roughest of the rough.
My cousin Rashan tends to a husband, 5 children, 2 bonus babies, while working a full-time job, investing time and resources into side businesses/passions, and maintains close relationships with friends and family.
I told you all a little bit about my grandmother’s struggle-riddled life in a previous writing challenge blog post. She’s definitely someone that’s always inspired me, even when we were at odds throughout my entire adolescence. If my previous personal website hadn’t expired and deleted all of my content, I’d insert an excerpt from a piece I wrote on her that I titled “My Motivation”.
Related: My Grandmother’s Laughter, and Other Things That Make Me Really Happy
Oop! We’re parked. It's time to take shots, and strut into this spot.
I’ll take to you all later, my Riders ❤️
Unfollowing People That Post Newborn Babies On Social Media, They're All Ugly
30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 3
Well, I’m doing it. I can’t say how well I’m doing, but I’m doing it.
A few weeks ago, I said for the upcoming month, I’d do a month-long writing challenge. The idea was/is that I’ll spend 30 minutes per day, for 30 days, writing on a writing prompt. I found a list of 30 writing prompts on the good ol’ Googler in the form of a WordPress blog graphic. Nice and easy, I saved it to my phone.
The first day of the writing challenge, I was on an Amtrak train ride that I’d book that same morning. I spent a couple of hours or so writing on the train. After being picked up from the Amtrak station downtown Houston, stopping at HEB to make sure I had something to eat in the morning, and making it to my girlfriend’s place near the Galleria, I opened up my computer around 10pm and picked up where I left off. I didn’t close my computer until 3am.
Related: These 10 Things Are Sure to Turn a Frown Upside Down (30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 1)
Oh, don’t you worry, it’s not over. I woke up on day 2 of the 30-day writing challenge and continued working on day 1’s blog post! Ugh. I must’ve got started around 11am and didn’t close my computer to go to her apartment’s gym until about 7pm. WTF?! What happened to 30 minutes per day for 30 days?! How many hours was that? Look, math has never been my strong subject, I’m not even about to exert myself trying to figure that out. All I know is that that was WAY too long to work on what was supposed to be a quickie blog post. There’s no way I’ll make it to the end of this 30-day writing challenge at that rate. No way.. not with my sanity, nor dark-circle-free eyes, that’s for sure.
After returning from a much needed 45 minutes of cardio, I washed my hair and actually got to the day 2 part of day 2 of the writing challenge. A mess, child, a mess. I set my timer, but do you think I stopped when it went off? Not a chance. At least this time I only sat in front of this computer screen from right before midnight to a little after 2am. [Lifts fingers to count] Midnight.. one.. two.. Ou! I only spent about 2.5 hours to get yesterday’s writing challenge blog post up! Aye, that’s progress.
Related: Words That Stuck With Me From My First Real Boyfriend (30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 2)
Today is day 3 and my girl that I’m staying by is about to throw some straight-back braids in my hair for me, so I’m stopping when this timer goes off, and that’s that.
Oh my heavens, it’s down to only 7 minutes left. Let me hurry and answer this writing prompt.
What Are Your Top 3 Pet Peeves?
Being raised by a grandmother with very bad nerves, I think I unfortunately inherited quite a bit of her irritability. It may be difficult for me to narrow it down to a mere top 3 pet peeves. We’re down to 5 minutes now, though, so let’s go with whatever comes to my mind first.
1.Unnecessary Lies
There’s nothing more I despise than a liar.
Does lying even count as a pet peeve? It’s a character trait that I absolutely loathe, it’s more than a pet peeve. I tend to be a rather honest person, sometimes too honest, people say, making it hard to compute in my mind why people to choose lie in certain situations.
Majority of the time, lies are unnecessary. I would go further into detail, but the timer is down below 2 minutes and I still have two more point to list. Ahh!
Hm, what else really, really vexes my nerves? I mean, I don’t like when people wear white socks with black shoes, and… [timer goes off and I press repeat] I can’t help but to stare in people’s mouth when they have plaque buildup. How do you brush your teeth? You’ve never flossed in your life? When was the last time you let a dentist in your mouth (and I don’t mean after a wild night at the bar)?
2. Pictures of newborn babies on social media
No one wants to see the little alien that came out of your vagina two seconds ago.
Why do people post pictures of newborn babies online?
They should be marked as sensitive content. It’s disturbing.
Anytime a picture of a barely fully formed human appears on one of my social media news feeds, the corners of my lips slide towards my chin revealing a slight opening in my mouth.
“Look how pretty!! That baby is gorgeous!!” LIES! We’re back to pet peeve number one. Babies fresh out of the womb all look like the extraterrestrial version of a naked mole rat.
At least give that baby a chance to develop some features, goodness. Small babies don’t even have defined facial characteristics yet. What are you saying?!
When I’m in a group message and someone sends a picture of their new baby, or I’m out somewhere and someone shows me a picture of a new baby, or the new baby is in front of me, and I feel the need to say something, I’m not telling any lies. I say, “well thank God for a healthy delivery. Amen somebody!” Or something along those lines that relates to the appreciation for the miracle of new life. I’m not going to do the polite, or politically correct thing to do, which is lie.
“Doesn’t he look just like his dad already?!” No, hoe! He looks like puddy, please go away.
I’m with my sis, Tay, on this one, who has never shared pictures of the three kids she birthed before their first birthday, at the earliest. And even then, she still doesn’t go wild turning her public profiles into shrines of her children. Ugh, that’s another whole pet peeve right there. No offense, but a lot of y’all new mothers are annoying aye eff.
Whew, 5 minutes left on the timer after having restarted it, giving myself another 30, and this time, I’m stopping when that time goes off for real. I’ll only come back to add images, hyperlinks, SEO, and all that jazz.
Let’s see. What should be the final item on this list of 3 of my many pet peeves?
Dang, I had to press repeat on my 30-minute timer again, and that was after pausing it to brainstorm for a good 30 minutes. … Got diggity dawg, I still can’t remember what I was about to say. What in the world is wrong with my brain? Do I need Ritalin, or whatever it is they give all these kids these days that are slapped with the diagnosis of ADHD? Back in my day (talking as if I’m not only in my twenties), medical professionals were passing out diagnoses of ADHD; parents were passing out a** whippings! Maybe that’s my problem, my brain cells were beat out of me.
3. Half-a** listeners
People that overly and quickly agree with everything both make me raise an eyebrow.
For one, I’m wondering if you have a mind of your own. Then, I’m wondering if you’re actively listening to what I’m saying, or if you’re simply hearing me and responding (without processing what I’m saying from my perspective).
Say like my grandmother, “you’re half a** listening.”
I’m going to use my sis, Tay, as an example here as well because a very trivial example of this happened the other day. My every day bag is a Goyard Saint Louis. Her every day bag is a Louis Vuitton Neverfull. They’re both spacious top-handle totes by long-standing French luxury design houses. They are even right around the same price point. They’re similar, but not the same. Some kind of way, we were in her Cadillac and the topic of bags must’ve come up, and I don’t think she had hers on her at the moment. I said, “what I like about your Louis is how structured it is; that type of bag goes well with my conservative style of dress, as opposed to my very malleable Goyard that’s more flowy, Free People vibes.” This got darn girl go’on say, “oh yeah, girl, I know exactly what you mean, my Louis collapses just like that” as she looked over at my bag in my lap. I said, “no, it doesn’t.” She responded, “yes, it does,” and this went on for some minutes.
A couple days later, we were somewhere and our bags happened to be next to one another. “Now Taylor.. tell me your bag is just as unstructured as mine…” I said as I gave her a look as to say, “come on, na, b****.” [inserts side-eye emoji] She started laughing as she realized what I was saying with my original comment, “ohhhhh, no. Yeah, they are different. Dang.”
Now, as I said, this is extremely trivial. Neither one of us care at all about the amount of difference or similarity between our every day tote bags; that’s not something that matters. This is only an example to show that when a person is solely listening to respond (not to understand), or too quickly assimilates, information is missed. Communication is lost. You’re not really listening, because if you were actively listening in the first place, you would’ve understood.
When confiding in someone about a personal matter, or sharing a tough experience, is where half-a** listening really grinds my freaking gears!! Imagine talking to someone about your grandfather dying and that person responds, “yes, I know, that’s exactly how it was when my grandfather died back in 2004. Mm hm, yeah girl.” WHAT?! You aren’t even actively listening to ME; you’re in your head about you. Half-a** listening is dismissive, and I’ll never talk to you about an emotional or serious topic again.
Online or offline, if you have a habit of doing any one of these top three pet peeves, baby, you gotta go.
And right now, I gotta go. I think I’ve pressed restart on my timer another 2 or 3 times. This was only supposed to be a quick 30-minute writing session on my 30-day writing challenge prompt, and how many hours has it been? My Lord, I hope swiftness finds me, because as much as I enjoy the finished product, mama can’t sit in front of this computer screen all day, every day. I have to continue to go live life in order to continue to write about life.
If you’re a fellow blogger or writer, feel free to drop me some writing tips in the comment section below. I want to come out of this 30-day writing challenge a better writer and I’m not too good for guidance.
Do any of these pet peeves work your nerves as well?
Drop a hint to that one annoying friend by sharing this blog post as a status on Facebook, or a tweet on Twitter. Or, if you’re like me, send them the link directly in a text message.
Thank you for being here, my Riders ♥
Words That Stuck With Me From My First Real Boyfriend
(Above photo: I recently invested in a Chromebook for blogging, and by signing in, I found a slew of old pictures in my Google Photos. It seems they’re camera roll uploads to Google’s cloud from my pre-iPhone days. This particular image says it’s from October 2011, and if you read the title to this blog post and thought “that must be a picture of the author and her first boyfriend,” ding! ding! ding! You got it.)
30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 2
It’s 11:41pm and I’m only now sitting down to churn out a blog for day two of this 30-day writing challenge. I’m supposed to complete one of the writing prompts, from a WordPress blog graphic I found online, every single day in the month of June. Yesterday, I spent entirely too much time on the writing prompt, just like I used to do during standardized testing back in secondary school, which caused me to spend all of day 2 finishing day 1’s prompt. I’m skilled, but I’m slow. Hopefully by the completion of this 30-day writing challenge, I’ll have picked up some speed.
Write Something That Someone Told You About Yourself That You Never Forgot
Oop! Now it’s 11:47pm, giving me all of 10 minutes to answer this writing prompt. Either way the cookie crumbles, I’m pressing publish by midnight. Think, T.K., think.
What is something that someone has told you about yourself that you never forgot?
Darn, four more minutes have passed and I still haven’t thought of anything in particular. I suppose I’ll keep typing to type, because referencing grade school again, didn’t they say that writing something was better than leaving the question blank? At least I’ll be able to give myself partial credit for this blog post.
I’ll always be alright.
There it is. That’s the something that someone told me about myself that I never forgot.
My first everything, Gary, taught me so many things about myself. I think about him when that song by Estelle plays that says, “and I thank you for making me a woman.” From ways of thinking to self-maintenance as a young lady, I learned so much from that man.
[It’s 11:59pm and I’m pressing publish, so everything from this point on is cheating a little bit, but now that a response to this writing prompt has come to me, I at least have to finish the thought.]
What could a man have taught me about self-maintenance as a woman?
I know this is slightly off-topic, and that’s probably a part of my problem, but I must explain. For example, no man had seen my lady parts before him, and I didn’t have a close relationship with any mother figure as a teenager, so beyond keeping my girl clean and I what I learned in Honors Anatomy and Physiology, I didn’t know much about down there.
This is way too much information, but hopefully no one I know personally will read these daily writing prompts.
Though I’ve been shaving my legs since having to wear a skirt for pep squad in 6th grade, it never dawned on me to remove the hairs from between my legs because that area wasn’t ever visible to anyone. We’ve laughed about it since, and he has denied it, but he went down there when it was a forest. Though we were “best friends” my senior year in high school, we didn’t become boyfriend-girlfriend and make the move into physical intimacy until I was well into college. So here I was, living on my own, paying rent, maintaining a household, thinking I’m a woman, yet with a baby kitty below that was in need of grooming.
My first serious boyfriend was the first person to take me to get a Brazilian wax.
He was some years older than me, and much more experienced, if you know what I mean. I remember making some sort of comment implying that I was going to continue getting waxes for him and he stopped me dead in my tracks, “nah, this is for you; you do this for you whether I’m going down there or not.” It was these sorts of lessons I learned about being a lady from him. (And now, approaching a decade later, even when cobwebs are collecting, hair removal from my private areas is a part of my routine self-maintenance.)
Let’s get back on topic.
Back in college, my first real boyfriend told me something about myself that I never forgot.
It’s now 12:42am and I refuse to stay up on this computer typing until 3am the way I did for day 1 of this 30-day writing challenge. [Sets timer for 15 minutes]
“One thing about you, T.K., you go’on always be alright.”
Before dating, Gary and I were the best of friends. We hung out often, as one of his closest homeboys lived three doors down from my grandmother’s house; my grandmother knew this neighbor (Gary’s best friend’s mom, and knew she’d be home), and for that reason alone, she’d let me spend my evenings over there, an arm reach away from her. What she didn’t know is that there was a boy sniffing around my lil’ butt over there.
I told him more than I told anyone, and he told me plenty too. He immediately knew when my clothes were thrown out of my grandmother’s house. He was there to pick me up from work at the outlet mall when my people were in a mood and would refuse, leaving me standing on the sidewalk before the locked store doors looking like a motherless child. He witnessed the tumultuous interactions between me and my family. He watched me work to pay for anything I wanted to do at school, from prom to graduation fees and college applications. He loaded up his Tahoe with my belongings and moved me off to college when my parental figures had washed their hands with me. I was still an adolescent child then, and those were very crucial moments to the building of my character, to the making of the young adult I was becoming, and he was there for it all.
Years later, (we weren’t even in a relationship anymore, if I remember correctly,) when Gary told me that I’d always be alright, he meant it, because he’d seen it.. and I felt it.
And I will.
Tenacity is one trait that I’m most thankful for. It felt good for it to be recognized in me by someone else, and it’s also very inspiring to be believed in, making that simple comment from my first real boyfriend stick with me forever.
I’ll always be alright.
Note: I don’t like talking to people about personal hardships, that’s why I write; I’m not good at talking about them, yet I want to get it out. Hopefully SEO will bring random surfers on the web, that I’ll never meet in-person, to these writings. I want them to be seen because it’s really good stuff (not to toot my own horn, but toot! toot!), just by strangers. If you are someone I know offline and you feel the urge to bring up something shared here the next time we talk… Hmm… Let’s not. But thank you so much for being here!!
Child, it’s after 2am. Goodnight.
Riders, do your girl a solid and text the link to this blog post to someone right now. I’ll talk to you later!
My Grandmother's Laughter, and Other Things That Make Me Really Happy
Think of 10 things that make you really happy and jot them down on a list as they come to your mind. Here’s mine:
Hugs From Babies
My Grandmother's Laughter
Handing Over a Home-Cooked Meal
Being Handed a Home-Cooked Meal
A Gaze Across Unending Waters
Greetings From Unsuspecting Children
Reactions to Thoughtful Gifts I've Given
Receiving Something I Like Without Having to Ask
Pleasant Conversations That Go Absolutely Nowhere
Empty Consciousness Hitting My Body as I Pedal On a Bicycle
30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 1
It's day 1 of a 30-day writing challenge I found on the Internet, shared by a WordPress blog, and I'm already liking it. I set a timer on my phone for 30 minutes, put Beethoven in my ears, and took off. It's only taken me restarting the timer once to get where I am now. Yes, it has taken me an hour to write a 10-item list and 4 sentences.
Coming up with content ideas to create a piece, or topics to talk about, is never my problem. My problem is that I'm 'bout slow as molasses. Some bloggers do writing challenges to enhance their creativity. I'm doing a writing challenge to enhance my speed. Or else, how will I ever produce enough content to bring in the big bucks like Abby Lawson over at justagirlandherblog.com, earning 4.8 million dollars per year according to MoneyMint.com?!
The only instruction on the 30-Day Writing Challenge graphic from WordPress is "list 10 things that make you really happy." Technically, I'm done. I've done as instructed. But I've never been a listicles girl, and I'm sitting on an Amtrak with limited entertainment anyway. Let's dig into this writing prompt!
10 Things That Make Me Really Happy
Hugs From Babies
I wrote this list of happy things as the happy things came to my mind, not necessarily organized by the amount of happiness each brings; so, hugs from babies being listed first may have a little to do with the fact that I'm leaving from having spent a couple weeks tending to my sister's kids as she recovered from a surgery. Even if time with little humans wasn't the freshest thing on my mind, I'm sure it would rank pretty high.
I love children, I always have, even when I was a child myself. I watched my little neice, Kens, hold her baby brother in a hug for longer than she can count, and a pleasant disposition rested on her face. He wasn't feeling well and it made them both feel good for her to console him in her arms, even being nothing but a baby herself. Whereas the other two siblings can't be bothered for more than a blink, usually hugging out of necessity, it actually brings Kens happiness to hug. I was a Kens as a kid, caring and nurturing, finding satisfaction in soothing others. Though buried under a stone exterior, I still am a Kens, filling with happiness as a hug from an infant breaks down my walls like a wrecking ball.
Living in different states, I hadn’t seen my little cousin, Emma, in years. Though too small to have remembered me, she fell right into my arms like no time had passed. Hugs from small children are heart-warming.
Hugs from anyone, that's not a creeperzoid, feels good, really. (And sometimes even a hug from a creeperzoid feels good, yikes.) However, there's something different about a hug from a small child. For one, as a female, we're often pursued by the opposite sex with an innate motivation for their private parts to touch our private parts -- with small children, there's no sexual motivator on the other end of the hug. Then, in same-sex embraces, among homegirls, for example, though there's no underlying sexual motivator, there's still some sort of motivator, like sympathy or pity, and thoughts attached to that motivator. (Or, it's me overthinking everything. Nonetheless...) A hug from a small child is genuine, pure love with nothing much beyond what it is in that moment. It's warm and I feel blood rushing into my aorta, swelling my heart.. even if they ask to play games on my phone right after.
2. My Grandmother's Laughter
"That's all I remember.. being hungry."
My entire life my grandmother has recounted early childhood memories of being dirt poor, growing up in a very rural area outside of New Orleans. Before making it out of her teen years, she was already a mother of two, the first of which, my mother, was a result of a forced sexual relationship with a man probably thrice her age that started when she was only about 14. Her baby boy, whom my mother had named my brother after, was shot dead, causing my mother to have a mental breakdown which eventually led to my grandmother being stuck with two more kids (my brother and I) to raise. This is the extremely short story of a life overwhelmed with strife, that didn’t see enough peace.
“I’ll sit on his lap,” my grandmother said as we went to pose for a picture at USVI’s Mountaintop. She’s comical, but even if she weren’t, her laughter would make me laugh.
Though seeing my grandmother happy would make me happy regardless, having a deeper understanding of her life experience really takes my appreciation for her moments of happiness to the next level. I strive to make her happy because she deserves it. Everyone deserves to be happy, but those who have been beaten by barracks of injustices, and still survive, really deserve to be happy. That’s why, even if nothing is funny, I’m giddy when Granny’s giggling.
3. Handing Over a Home-Cooked Meal
Some of my girlfriends in Los Angeles may tell you that I never cook, but it’s only because they’ve never given me a reason. The moment I have a reason, I’m in the kitchen putting these wrists to work! And by a reason, I definitely don’t mean my own personal need to consume food for survival. That’s not enough to make me want to cook; I’ll eat out or throw together something quick, if it’s only me I’m trying to feed. I keep a 3-dollar 12-pack of ramen noodles under the cabinet.
When I have someone to feed, I’m buying all fresh ingredients, cutting up seasonings, cracking pepper, kneading dough, the works! All of this happens after I’ve cleaned the kitchen, then I clean while I’m cooking, and I clean after I’m finished cooking. Don’t even think about reaching in my pots. I’m making everyone’s plate and bringing it to them with utensils. I’ll most likely ask you what you’d like to drink as well, and bring that to you too. I take care of myself last, as I bask in everyone’s faces and comments of beyond satisfaction.
I don’t even like cooking, but I like cooking for people.
4. Being Handed a Home-Cooked Meal
For me, food is fellowship. That’s how we’re raised in the South. We get in the kitchen, we get in those pots, and we get into each other. We gather at a loved one’s home, talk, laugh, and enjoy one another’s company. That’s why a home-cooked meal makes this list twice.
If you’re wondering why I didn’t combine this one and the previous one, it’s because they’re different. I don’t know which one makes me happier, cooking for someone or being cooked for. They play off of each other. I suppose knowing how much effort and care I put into food preparation makes my cheeks perk up when someone does it for me. Then, knowing how much I enjoy being served a home-cooked meal is what warms my insides to know I’m making someone else feel that same way.
My sis, Taylor, snapped an off-guard picture of me on her mom’s beautiful backyard patio, sitting beside the backlit pool, enjoying some crabs hot off the grill, prepared and served to us. Related: A Childish Backyard Birthday Bash For Adults (TikTok video)
Food — here, there, anywhere, on a boat, on a goat, or stuffed in my tote — makes me happy. I know people that eat like birds and I can’t relate. I enjoy food too much to limit myself. When thought, time, and energy is exerted on a meal when I visit someone’s home, or they specifically bring me a plate, (and it’s good), I’m gayer than laughter.
5. A Gaze Across Unending Waters
While I was staying by my sister’s place the past couple of weeks, I’d take all 4 kids out of the house in the evening for a couple of hours to give her a moment of peace and silence. All we’d do is walk around the neighborhood, or go to the neighboring playground. She said, “girl, you like being outside,” and I couldn’t have been more disappointed by such an inaccurate statement. I am not an outdoors girl; I don’t like the palpitations my heart gets at the sight of a spider, I don’t like sweat stains in the armpits of my shirt, I don’t like dirt under my fingernails, and I for sure don’t like the sun baking premature aging into my skin.
Though I don’t much care for being outdoors, I like the idea of it. I adore the sights of nature, and am even more infatuated with the complex simplicity that is nature.
The ocean steals my heart every time I’m blessed with the opportunity to experience it. I could stare across blue waters ‘til no end, preferably from an air conditioned, or at least shaded, area. Whether I’m standing where the Atlantic meets Africa’s western coast, or sailing on a little yacht in the lesser Antilles of the Caribbean Sea, gazing across unending waters brings a lightness to my to spirit.
Related: First Day Exploring Morocco, On the Atlantic Coast of Africa
One of my favorite happy places is being at sea, gazing out across unending waters.
Turning your head all the way to the left, then all the way to the right, and seeing water as far as your eyes can see has a way of putting a human’s existence into perspective. Put your hand in front of your face and bring the tip of your index finger so close to the tip of your thumb that only a fine strand of hair could be held in between. That’s how big you are. Now, stretch your arms completely out with your palms facing forward and try to make the backs of your hands meet. Unless you’re some sort of double-jointed super yogi, you probably can’t. That’s how big the world is, bigger than your arms can even stretch. If the world is that big, and you’re that small, imagine how much smaller your problems are. Ah, what a sigh of relief.
6. Greetings From Unsuspecting Children
Unfamiliar with the Los Angeles terrain, when I arrived from Louisiana, I blindly signed a lease in a “bad” neighborhood referred to as “The Jungle”. (It’s the neighborhood in L.A. where Denzel Washington’s character advised, “you don’t come here with anything less than a platoon,” in the movie Training Day, because it’s known to be that dangerous.) Though I was met with wide, worried eyes by locals when I told them where I was moving, I ended up finding it rather pleasant.
When I would return from working in Beverly Hills luxury all day, to my unfurnished apartment in The Jungle, I was greeted daily at the building’s dirty metal gate by excited voices pouring from the mouths of babes. I was thee only single, college-aged Black girl in the postwar-style quarters. Almost all of my fellow tenants were Hispanic, middle-aged approaching, with families. The property manager didn’t even speak English. However, differences didn’t stop connections from being made.
Related: Idk What This 3-Year-Old Hispanic Girl Is Saying, But I Like It (video)
Anytime I was noticed entering or exiting my home, the neighborhood kids would jump up and down, run towards me, and/or scream, “TeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeKaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!” It feels good for someone to simply be happy to see you. One of my girlfriends from Louisiana, Sierra, even got a taste of this rush once, when stopping by my place. Sierra couldn’t help but smile when recounting the children’s roars when they heard her come in, thinking it was me.
The children are so happy, and the happiness is beaming at you, you can’t help but to feel happy!
7. Reactions to Thoughtful Gifts I’ve Given
I am a great gift-giver and I am not even going to be modest about it. I give good gifts. I thoroughly listen to a person and their interests and their needs, and their woes, and their joys, then I take my time coming up with a gift idea based off of the knowledge I’ve collected on them.
I grin and think to myself, “yeah, Tee, you did that.”
When a person reacts to a gift I’ve given them, and I don’t mean only material items, handwritten words on a previous blank card as well, it confirms all the information I gathered was correct and I’ve successfully filled a space.
When one of my girlfriends intentionally waits for a special occasion to pop the bottle of champagne I bought her while flying thru Paris, I know she understands the thought and resources that went into that bubbly because she’s putting thought into when to enjoy it. I got you something special, and you’re treating it as such.
When my sis FaceTime calls me, telling me how her family ate every drop of the pan of seafood pasta I arranged for a private chef to deliver as a push-present after she came home from giving birth, I know I came in clutch.
I suppose the deeper, overarching emotion here is that it makes me happy when my efforts are recognized and appreciated. And, I plain ol’ like making people happy.
8. Receiving Something I Like Without Having to Ask
One of my girlfriends constantly shares pictures in our group message, with the mutual girlfriend that brought us together, sharing flowers she has received from one man, then a freshly detailed car or full gas tank courtesy of another man, then new pieces of luxury merchandise from the others. (It’s natural to want to share good things we receive, as any social media news feed demonstrates on Valentine’s Day, but she chooses not to share on there because then her men would know they’re not thee only one trying to be thee only one; she likes to make each man believe she’s only entertaining him.) Though romantic interests are her main source, she likes receiving from everyone… but rarely ever thinks to give. I don’t understand that.
The same way my happy things 3 and 4 on this list are connected, cooking meals and being cooked meals, is how this item and the one right above are connected.
Being thoughtful brings me happiness, and being thought of brings me happiness. Though there’s no expectation of a direct exchange when I give (i.e. “I got you this for $3 yesterday, so you get me that for $3 today), it’s nice to know that people, you care about enough to think of, also care enough to think about you.
When I visited one of my girlfriends in Minneapolis, knowing one of my favorite snacks, Bria took me to a long-standing candy shop and treated me to a huge bag of Chicago mix popcorn. I was elated! Related: Minnesota State Fair Blog Post in the Travel Diary
As I mentioned in the previous point, I pay close enough attention to people to know what they may like or could use; that’s why when someone gets me something that I like without me having had to ask, it tells me they pay attention to me as well, and that right there is what makes me happy, thoughtfulness and reciprocity.
And, maybe there’s a little bit of my grandmother showing up in me there. “Little girl, you should do that without me having to ask,” she’d say in a scolding tone as I’d show her a spotless kitchen after she’d told me my chores weren’t properly done. Look now, Granny.
9. Pleasant Conversations That Go Absolutely Nowhere
I love a good chit chat. And by chit chat, I for darn sure don’t mean about the weather. I’m not interested in small talk.
I enjoy for a conversation to have depth without needing something on the other end. It isn’t a networking opportunity for possible work. It isn’t a sales pitch to attract a love interest. It isn’t a monologue to vent to a stranger. It isn’t to see how you can benefit them, nor how they can benefit you. There’s no motive. It’s merely individuals having a human experience. Maybe laughs will be had, or thoughts will be inspired, but there’s no demand nor hope for what has to come out of the conversation.
This “happy thing” list item came from when I thought about why I enjoyed my trip to Morocco as intensely as I did. What was making me so happy as I explored this foreign country? One consistent thread, from the North to le Sud, was having conversations with no expectations. Yes, I’m sure my desert tour guide, or the restaurant servers, appreciate generous tips, however, it was very evident they genuinely enjoy talking to foreigners about one another’s country. I had a couple of Moroccans that spent a lengthy amount of time with me that wouldn’t even accept money from me.
Related: You Can’t See the Desert, You Have to Feel It
It’s enjoyable to engage without having to wonder, “oh Lord, what do they want?” — or, to rebuke the devil trying to make you wonder what you can get from them — to solely be present in the conversation, not worrying about what comes next.
Having a moment to enjoy for what it is in that moment makes me happy.
10. Empty Consciousness Hitting My Body as I Pedal On a Bicycle
How did I not think of riding a bicycle sooner?!
I got to the tenth spot on this “10 things that make you really happy” writing prompt and thought, “OH! Wait…”
It doesn’t matter how busy I am, how much family issues are stressing my brain, how bad of an attitude I’m experiencing; I can hop on my bicycle and it turns my frown upside down.
What is it about riding a bicycle that is so fun?
Well, it’s not the mindless motorists, that’s for sure! And it’s not being outdoors, as I’ve already told you, I’m not really an outdoors girl. If it’s not the people, and not the setting, and that’s the majority of the activity, what could it be making me so happy when I ride a bicycle?
Riding a bicycle allows me to be extremely aware of my surroundings and conscious, while simultaneously causing my mind to be at peace.
Riding a bicycle reminds me that I’m alive without forcing me to think about being alive.
I didn’t think about it until thinking about it, for this writing challenge blog post. I didn’t think about it, nor about anything, because riding a bicycle doesn’t require you to think. You merely go. You’re free. Riding a bicycle gives you space to practice a silent mind, as eloquently explained by philosopher and writer, Alan Watts. (He didn’t say anything about riding a bicycle, but still).
Though I may not be sitting like a Buddhist, rather in complete motion, my mind finds a sort of peace and tranquility with my bum atop a bicycle seat while my feet flow on the pedals.
Take a visit to your happy places.
If you’re a blogger or writer or just a girl with a lot on her mind, give this writing prompt a try.
Thinking about things that make you really happy is an eye-opening way to do some introspection. It also will also give you a dose of happiness reminiscing about all these things that make you happy. I must’ve read my 10-item list about 50leven times, full of smiles.
If you’re not a writer or blogger, and your mind is free and clear, you should take a visit to your happy places as well with this writing prompt. Letting your mind quickly go there is cool, but putting the words in front of your face will help bring your mind’s attention to a solid list of 10 things. Feelings of happiness can be fleeting and easy to overlook. Seeing it on paper will help you realize what really makes you happy.
Please don’t be deterred by my lengthy dig into this writing prompt, I am a writer after all. It’s not necessary for you to write out an explanation in rhythm for each one of your happy things. Grab a little pen pad, set a short timer and quickly scribble scratch 10 things that make you really happy. It can be a quick moment of mindfulness.
YOU make me happy!
You, reading this, make me happy. Whether this is your first time on this lifestyle blog, or you’re a regular reader, you’re here now, and that makes you one of my Riders. (Writers have readers, aroundLAwithTK has riders; I appreciate y’all for riding with me!)
I’m not sure how obvious it was with this list of 10 things that make me really happy, but I like to talk, I like to listen, I like to engage, I love people. Tweet me your thoughts @aroundLAwithTK, or drop a comment on an Instagram post.