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Witch Bus

My game plan was to take the bus from my apartment to the metaphysical store Terra Blue, and back. This was meant to be the perfect cultural experience. I would get to explore a bit of Greensboro, I would be able to figure out the bus system- a skill that would come in handy for off-campus clinical placements- and I would be exposed to a new culture.

I had everything planned and on Saturday, a little after noon, I made my way to the bus stop. I proudly boarded the bus after waiting ten minutes and watched the street signs attentively so I wouldn’t miss my stop. I came off the bus at my stop, and walked the remainder of the way to Terra Blue.

After getting lost only once, I confidently stepped into the store, where I was greeted by three cats and Sarah, the store’s effervescent owner.  I asked if she practiced Wicca and she told me she was actually a Witch. She explained that Witches practice magick by using spellwork and energies to change themselves or the world while Wicca was a religion. I asked her to recommend an item from her store for me to take with me as a souvenir and she advised that I walk around and whatever caught my eye was probably what I needed. Her rationale was, our souls know what they want but our minds get in the way.

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This sign was all over the store.

I followed her advice and explored her store. I passed daggers, pendants, pendulums, charms, herbs, incense, semi-precious stones, crystals, candles, quills, parchment and potions. I couldn’t help but be amazed that her store had much of the Witch paraphernalia I always saw on tv. I left her store with an amethyst stone for peace, an apetite stone for creativity, an opalite stone for smooth transitions and a selenite desert rose stone for strengthened mental abilities. I can’t wait to see if my soul really knew best.

I left Terra Blue and made my way to the bus stop. I spotted a man in the distance engaged in an animated conversation with either himself or a tree. Mi neva plan fi stop an ask him. I concluded that if I walked confidently and avoided eye contact then he would not see me. It did not work.

“Hello! I’m talking to you!” he yelled. Yes Jah-Jah, a suh it aguh end yah now! My heart kicked into high gear and I glanced around for the nearest escape route. He asked me for money but I told him I didn’t have any cash on me and continued walking. I survived!

When I got to the bus stop, I looked around, realized I was the only person on the street and decided to find another bus stop in a more populated area. I walked the long way around because if I ran into Mr. Tree-man I may not have been so lucky the second time ’round. I eventually found one, checked my bus tracker app and saw that the bus wouldn’t arrive for another hour.

I waited patiently in the sun and one hour and eight minutes later, I watched as my bus drove right by me. I was at the wrong bus stop. I tried to google a number for a cab and my highspeed data conveniently ran out. I was flustered. I walked to the nearest store, asked the clerk for the number of a cab company. My cab arrived in five minutes, I was home in two minutes and I went straight to bed. I was not made for this much drama in one day.

This was my most stressful adventure to date. Mastering the bus system would make me more independent as I would be able to navigate the Greensboro area more freely, but I need time to recover.

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Royal Flush

Before I posted this poem, I sent it to a few of my friends and they all thought I was throwing shade at someone. I laughed and told them that was not the case. I’m still not sure they believe me. However I now feel compelled to share with you the honest origin of this poem.

I was scrolling through Instagram and found a user by the name of “Let me fix my crown”. I thought it was a brilliant name and as I was walking to class the first few lines of the poem wrote themselves. I took on the persona of an angry woman tired of degrading pick up lines, played with rhymes and had a little too much fun. This is the end result. Enjoy !


 

Excuse me?
Let me fix my crown real quick.
Mr. Suave, Mr. Slick, Mr. Boombastic.
With Jokers in abundance,
you can take your pick.
Go fetch!
Never mind, you can keep that stick.
‘Cause you must be a dog,
or a frog or a hog,
to be talking to me with that dialogue.
Hold on!
What is the matter with you?
Biting off more than you could possibly chew.
Sweetheart, just how old are you?
Because you must be under the age of two.
Before I get too upset
and say something that I’ll regret
I have an important lesson for you
my pet.
I think it’s time you learned
that respect is earned
because you’re playing with fire
and you will get burned!

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The Story of the Puss Roll

Today I’ll be returning to my Yaad (Jamaica). I love being in airports but this wasn’t always the case. I felt it was only fitting that I shared the traumatic story of my first time being at the airport. I wrote the story a year ago for my public speaking class. Enjoy!


Crisp white socks; folded neatly at the ankles. Shiny black shoes. A denim dress that flared at the waist with a rounded lapel. My mother completed the look by putting my hair in four evenly parted braids. There wasn’t a crease in sight or a hair out of place. I was ready. I was 1½ years and I was ready for my first trip by airplane.

While my mother and father juggled two suitcases and my diaper bag, my lone responsibility was to guard my stuffed kitten. This was no ordinary kitten. Pink fur, a white under belly and a long white string, courtesy of my grandmother, for a leash. After a 30 minute journey, we arrived at the airport. Mommy kissed daddy goodbye. He then kissed me on both cheeks and gently clunked our foreheads together so I wouldn’t feel left out. It was just mommy, me and my kitty now.

Despite what my mother would say, I was a well behaved baby. I walked beside her in silence taking in the hustle and bustle of the airport. This was probably my first introduction to the concept of “waiting in line”. That’s the thing with airports; lots of opportunities to wait in line. We had to queue to check in our luggage, then we had to queue for the security check.

We waited and waited until it was finally our turn. Mommy lifted her carry on and my diaper bag onto the conveyer belt. While mommy balanced monitoring her bags and conversing with security, some woman snatched my kitty. My jaw dropped as I tried to process what happened. I looked to my mother, waiting for her to defend me but she was busy with the bags. I had to take matters into my own hands.

In one swift motion, I dropped to the ground with a splat. I simultaneously kicked my feet, exposing Huggies underneath so they knew I meant business. I kicked and rolled to the right and I kicked and rolled to the left. They still hadn’t returned my kitty. I added a new move to my tantrum combo. I hollered. I had a pair of lungs and I knew how to use them. The entire airport waited with baited breath for my stuffed animal to be returned.

The conveyer belt had swallowed my kitten and was taking its own sweet time with the digestion process. I was kicking and rolling and screaming at the top of my lungs. My mother was frozen in shock and appreciative of the sympathetic looks she was receiving. The poor attendants ran from my mother to myself then the conveyer belt, unsure of what to do next.

The scanner finally spat out my kitty and the security personnel passed it around like a game of hot potato to get it back to me as quickly as possible. The same woman who had taken my toy returned it and apologized profusely. I stopped my tantrum mid-roll, got up and took it from her. Wearing one shoe, I hopped passed my mother. She scrambled to retrieve my other shoe and any other article of clothing I might have dislodged in my fit.I didn’t know where I was going but I knew it was away from catnappers, stuffed toy eating machines and baffled onlookers. My mother chased behind me and swiftly pulled the back of my dress down to cover my diaper.

Despite what my mother would say, I was a well behaved baby… unless provoked.

#KultureShocked

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The Post I Never Meant to Publish

Warning! Below is a passage of useless information, feel free to waste 3 minutes of your time though. Did this passage a few months ago and it’s been in my drafts taking up space. Why not post it?

Im at work….. doing nothing but refreshing my inbox just in case I got an email in the little time gone by. I haven’t gotten an email but with each click of the button a minute should have passed but it seems time has frozen since I checked last.
Oh my god an email! Unimportant 😦 just a message from some company that wants my money. But I want my money so if you find my money let it know ive been searching for it high and low.
Interesting fact two men just walked in. No hi no hello. See I grew with my grandmother and if I did that and she knew she’d wack me not one time but two!
Two more emails, im popular today.  Three women just entered said hi and walked away. Now it’s twelve ‘o’ eight now I have 82 minutes left to wait.
I’ve already been to the mailroom twice if the time would fly faster, that would be nice. Now this is getting much longer than I’d hoped but I won’t aplogize; it’s helping me cope.
My tummy has started speaking so now im hungry too. Hunger is much more difficult when you have nothing to do. Just took a sip of water and felt the chill go down. Now I’m staring at the door outside its the colour brown.
Well I think it’s time I put this to an end
Hmmm… maybe I’ll go get the mail again!

#KultureShocked