I’ve been studying an doing homework all day. I could really go for a cupcake right now.
I’m changing Photokofa’s hosting site. Honestly, tumblr isn’t reliable for holding serious shit. Crash, crash, crash… but when I do the entire layout will be different. That’s under construction too.
Did I tell you all I might be moving to Orlando this summer?
I dead ass just realized that it was Saturday. What does this even mean? I think I need to slow down. I’ve just been zooming through the days.
Well on wednesday, i knew it was wednesday and then everything between then and now is literally a blur. Maybe I need to cut back on my sweets. It actually feels like a sunday but if it wasn’t for me needing the time just now- my word, I woulda thought it was thursday.
And though it’s saturday morning I’m up killing homework… zooming through the days I tell ya.
I hope that my last year of school goes by just as fast as this week did.
When I was a kid and my grandma would baby sit my little cousins and I, she made us card games out of old cereal boxes. We ate a lot of cereal. She’d make spelling and math games for us just so we wouldn’t be stuck on TV the whole summer, ya know? We had mandatory “read a book for an hour” too. Back then it seemed really corny but right now I appreciate it. Not everyone’s fortunate to have a grandmother like mines or even a grandmother.
She hasn’t passed away or anything but I’d much rather pay homage while she living. Honestly she’s been crossing my mind a lot lately it’s kind of depressing. Because when I think of her the next topic to cross my brain is death. Wow. I’m getting kinda cocked up as I type this, honest. I hate losing people. I’m not even scared of death myself but when it comes to loved ones, I cant take it.
I wasn’t always this way. When I was younger I didn’t miss anyone and I couldn’t get attached to anyone or anything for that matter. I took everyone and everything as they came. I was sure that they’d one day leave and they do – one day.
Ma’ Sheila’s – my grandma- is awesome though. Before she retired, she was a grade school teacher in Jamaica for some forty-odd years. She fries the best fish - better than any West Indian restaurant I’ve ever gone to. She’s a hell of a domestic… I’m not one to be uptight about gender rolls or anything but if your grandmother can’t do basic grandmotherly things like idk… make a sweater, bake a cake or remove stains from your clothes, that kinda sucks. I can’t forget to mention how bomb Ma’ Sheila’s homemade strawberry and guava jelly is. And nobody knows how to jerk a chicken like she does, or curry it. Her cow foot soup goes hard too… I’m just fat.
None of those things make her awesome though. Of course she a daughter, sister, friend, lover/wife, mother and grandmother but none of those titles mean much shit in actuality. They’re just labels, ya know? What makes her special is her company. I need her to be in the States.
I need her in my physical presence. I want to see her face cause hearing her voice will no longer suffice. I need her to hold me and tell me everything will be alright even if I don’t believe it.
I need her to make me a card game out of an empty cereal box.