4 Teen Girls

Dear Blog,

After a month-long hiatus from my Rideshare seat, I finally got to do some Uberizing this past weekend.

Oh, you didn’t think a doctor could be a Rideshare driver? Dude, I have heard about company executives doing just that, try it, you just might like it. You can thank me later.

Dr. Lulu’s Rideshare began as some sort of a dare. My eldest son at Stanford was spending so much money on Rideshares at school, that I was like, “son, with all this money you are spending on Uber and Lyft you should probably be driving Uber to help your mama out when you come home on your vacations”. He agreed in theory, but in the end, since he was too young to sign up, he said, “mom, you are over 21, why don’t you sign up?” you love to meet people, and you love talking. One thing led to the other, and I found myself driving Uber/Lyft, and totally LOVING it! The “funnest” part has been the facial expressions I get from most people when I tell them what my “day job” is. It is so different, yet similar, to my life in a white coat. I ask questions, I listen to stories and I give feedback. And with all the talk about physician burn out, this has indeed been a much-needed stress reliever for me personally, I can go incognito, or I can go as myself, but in the end, it is has been about the people and their stories.

So, buckle up and enjoy the ride… my Uber tales.

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After class that Friday (I am currently getting my executive MBA at UTSA), I picked up a family headed to the Alamodome for the UTSA vs Texas State game, go RUNNERS! As it turned out, they were from out of town and were going to watch their first ever live college football game! I was delighted simply to be their preferred mode of transportation. Their excitement was palpable. And in the 18-20 minutes, it took for the ride, I got to listen and learn from one of them basically breaking down the game of football to all of us; from interceptions to fumbles, to 6-point touchdowns to Hail Marys and field goals, and everything in between. I gladly shared that my sons played instruments in their respective high school marching bands, so I have heard those words often thrown around, but never really knew their meanings. I thanked them for the free lesson. First clients for the day… that, went well.

Next, were about 3 short trips around the downtown area, mostly to the game or to hotels around town… I was so glad to finally pick up clients headed out of the downtown area… all those one-way streets, road closures, and human traffic can give a girl a slight headache. The passengers, 2 girls both dressed in black skimpies, destination, Still Golden, a bar on Broadway Street. They appeared irritated and annoyed about something. They spoke in Spanish to each other in short sentences. They were either not in the mood for banter, or had had enough for the day, I was only too happy to leave the downtown area, so I was totally cool with their demeanor. After one wrong exit, and a U-turn, I eventually made it to their destination, they got out and said their thank yous. I kind of sensed that wrong turn did not help their moods too much, but oh well, it was all good by me. Next, I picked up a very happy group of middle-agers going only 1 1/2 miles up the road but didn’t wish to walk. I said, “hop in, and I will gladly take you”. During our short but interesting convo, they were very content to encourage me and my side-hustle and blessed my day with their presence. The main lady has just moved to San Antonio and is wishing to learn as much about the town as she can. We exchanged similar stories about raising teens in midlife and memories. Her, two boys and a girl, are about the same age as my tres hijos. Driving down Broadway, I mentioned that the Witte museum was actually around the corner from their destination. As soon as I said that, we drove up to it, and I pointed it out, to which she eagerly exclaimed… “I have been meaning to go there and visit!”, and I laughed aloud at her reaction as I responded, “so now you know exactly where it is, you should”. We bade each other a joyous farewell, and I drove on.

Next, I went back to the apartments across from Still Golden to pick up a young millennial couple heading up to the Japanese Tea Gardens. Ironically, I had observed the male of the pair earlier while dropping off the girls in black. He was walking back to his apartment building, his little dog trotting behind him. I don’t know why I singled him out in my people watching exercise, but I did. He was dressed in a well-ironed or maybe wrinkle-free white collar shirt, turn up blue jeans and a pair of loafers. He looked fresh and clean. Something about him reminded me of my eldest son…was it the turn-up jeans, the little dog he was walking or just the air of LGBT about him? I will never know, but when I picked him and his woman up, I shrugged and let the thoughts go. They informed me that the annual San Antonio Jazz Alive festival was going on at Travis park downtown. I exclaimed and offered that my eldest son and his Jazzy friends the “Four O’clock Five” had performed there only 2 years ago, I had noticed evidence of activity at the park earlier while driving through the streets of downtown, but did not know what was going on. This mention of music playing by my son sparked off keen interest from Mr. White-collar-shirt.. He eagerly asked me what instrument my son plays, and that led to a lively discussion about Flutes, Trumpets, rival football games between Brandeis high school and O’Connor high school, state competitions, marching band competitions as well as the Battle of the Band competitions in San Antonio etc. He joyfully shared that he had played the Tuba at Reagan high school. I smile and ask him if he still plays, sadly he said he hasn’t “in a while”, and I encourage him to start again. In hindsight, I guess it was the musical-instrument-playingness of him that I had sensed earlier while he walked his dog…

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Driving people to and from their various destinations always gives me a mix of emotions, but every now and then, I pick up the occasional unlikely ally… like the older couple that I picked up from the airport. They offered that they haven’t been to San Antonio “in a while” and are here for what they described as a “long weekend”. I enjoyed watching the excited energy with which they entered my car, they made some nice comments about its cleanliness and nice smell and thanked me for picking them up. During our very light-hearted discusses, it came to light that the lady works as an assistant program director of a family practice residency program in Virginia. When I explained that I am a not only a Pediatrician, but I lived in Northern Virginia during my residency training at Howard University, she excitedly wanted to hear more about me. I smiled and shared a very truncated version of my story to date, she was so happy that I am following my passion and not letting anything stand in my way, that she promised to get her program director to invite me to speak to their residents about physician burnout and of course, depression and suicide in young adults. Wow! I smiled widely, looked up to the heavens, offered a wink, and whispered: “thank you”.

I believe the highlight of my night, however, was the young teen couple I picked up to take home from the game. Though San Antonio dwellers, the young girl, and her beau attend Texas State University at San Marcos. They were leaving early because according to her, the game was “pretty much over, and UTSA was pounding Texas State. She, however, cheered up when I asked her about school, and she, in turn, asked me if I had any children. I informed her that I have two in college, and one in middle school. She probed further. Wanting to know what high schools they had attended, and what schools they attended. My responses started an avalanche of excited exclamations from the two of us! She, a junior was glad to know my eldest is also a junior. However, her joy settled in when she realized he not only attended Brandeis high school, but he is at Stanford where her very best friend also attends school! She exclaimed that she was on her way to visit with him in October for her annual game day visit. I told her I might even know the kid a few moments later, it turns out I described her friend to the tee! This tickled her pink as she declared that was him! Right there in the car, she texted him and told him all about it!! Teens, what a breath of fresh air. I ended the trip by giving her young heart a hug and wishing her all the very best in life.

My last clients were 4 teenagers that had requested UbeX, all girls. I figured their ages were between16 and 19 years. One of them is in college, the other three are in high school. I enjoyed listening to their excited banter about who was coming to the party, who wasn’t, how they planned to crash another party after the first party and so on. Luckily, their destination was at The Dominion, a huge neighborhood on my side of town, home to some of the San Antonio Spurs players, their coach, and a host of other crème-de-la-crop. Prices of some of the homes begin in double-digit millions. One of the girls complimented me on my car, another complimented me on my hairpins, both made me smile, and renewed my faith in the younger generation of women. We somehow started talking about the need for us women to always uplift each other, and naturally, that was a golden opportunity for me to talk about teen depression and teen suicide. I ended up making them promise me they would always be kind to each other. We arrive at the neighborhood gates, and I discover, none of them had their IDs… what? I shook my head and smiled. Luckily, the security detail at the gate noticed my Air Force Veteran plate and shared that she had been in the Navy. We bumped fists, I gave her a knowing wink, identified myself as the Uber driver, showed her my ID, she thanked me for my service to this country, and the gates opened up. Phew!

Hopefully, you have a smile on your face, as you finish reading this piece. Hopefully, now that you know a little more about Rideshare driving, you agree with me that, indeed, life is always about the stories, the faces, the beating hearts, the people…

 

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BB

“Be proud of who you are and not ashamed of how someone else sees you”

 

PS : Happy to announce that my blog was featured on the Top 40 Women Lifestyle Blogs in 2018, check it out here

 

…your sister, your kindred in depression.

Dear Blog,

I am Nigerian, your sister, your kindred in depression.
I too have been there, and I was also suicidal.

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Yes, I am a pediatrician, a veteran, a wife, a mom, a sister, friend, daughter, lover of life-life of the party.
But when I was down, none of these titles came to save me.
I felt my whole entire world crashing on me, and I wanted out.
I have three children, but they did not count
I have parents, and siblings, but they did not count,
I had a great enviable Lt. Col job in the USAF, it did not count,
I have a nice house, fancy cars, cool clothes, badass shoes, they didn’t count
Nothing I owned, counted,
I simply wanted out.
I am at a better place now, because someone heard my cry
She heard my voice, she listened,
She acted,
I survived.
And now am here…
Fighting.
Daily, speaking out, making eye contact, hugging one person at a time.
It will be done.
There will be no more suicides, no more hurt, no more pain.

BB

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!

 

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He has been intentionally deliberate.

Dear Blog,

This week was fairly emotional and trying for me at work. I am nearing the end of my 2mo notice and the emotions are getting real and raw. I have had lots of patients find out both from me and from the nursing staff and they are not taking it lightly. I have had patients’ moms crying, I have joined my tears with theirs, and the s*** is getting real. But just like Julius Caesar, I must go forth. Isn’t that the definition of faith?… going forth in trust and belief?

I still struggle with the unknown future, and the uncertainty of not having an immediately apparent source of income, and still marvel at the guts it has taken for me to do this…

The first time I did something this gutsy was in 1999 when I started my own private practice only months after finishing residency. That. was. Trying! I had only one son, Papa. Luckily, I was breast feeding, so at least the poor kid had a somewhat steady source of nutrition. I, on the other hand would eat an apple for breakfast, some noodles for dinner and barely have enough for lunch in those early days before my private practice truly took off. I was terrified, unsure, flat broke, and diffident, but committed and determined, for so many reasons, top of which was my J-1 visa that was about to expire…“whaatt?? girl, you better get it together and get that practice started in that rural area of South Kakalaki that is a qualified HPSA (health professional shortage area) before you find yourself on the wrong side of 45’s great big wall…” my id said to my ego.

Even more gutsy was when I filed for divorce from my now ex-husband. Nervous, afraid, unsure, but determined to divorce a strong-willed “Africa-man” (broken English accent) to the pure amazement and shock and (probably pity) of my onlookers. Many of whom I know, not only thought, but also believed I had lost my mind…what?, you? Naija woman, filing for divorce??? whatever will your people say?? But he is such a quiet man, a good man, what did you do to him? have you done lost yar mind? you dey crase? who do you know ever did that in your family? what have you children become these days? no one wants to stay in their husband’s house anymore, what about your children, how will they manage? blah blah blah. To which I would reply something in the realm of “darling, I don’t expect you to understand…but, he is now single, so please introduce him to any of your available single sisters, cousins, nieces, etc…since he is such a good man…(swinging my hips and whipping my neck and walking away as I roll my eyes…)

Another time I did something very gutsy in recent memory was when I joined the United States Air Force at the age of 42…! Now, at this time, ma guys had probably decided I was a crazy kid that needed prayers…they all probably shook their heads in wonder, said a prayer for me, and commended me into the hands of God (thankfully) as they walked away in disbelief…but if they thought that was bad, then the news that I was getting married to a woman, or that I had gotten married to a woman, finally “broke” the proverbial internet and sent them all in a frenzy…! I guess with those instances in mind, it should not come to my “followers” as a surprise that I quit my day job with not so much as a replacement in its place, to pursue a passion (that potentially is non paying) while I have two sons in college. And bearing in mind that their completely absentee father is absolutely NO help, financially or otherwise… But, if by so doing, I am able to stop one single teenager from committing suicide or spiraling into the dark space of depression, then it was ALL WORTH IT!

I guess that is where my vision leaves their ordinary sight to set off, plotting its own path.

Bringing me back to the topic of today…

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In the past few weeks, I must say I have felt the hands of God more in my life than I can honestly say I have in recent memory.

Since deciding to take up this new journey of re-branding myself. It has been one revelation and one learning experience after another. I have now decided to trust that I have a guiding hand from above and let it do its work in my life.

From my chance encounters to my scheduled meetings, to my patients, to their parents, to my kids, to my extended and nuclear family, to my co-workers to my adversaries, it has all been one message of positivity after another. I have felt nothing but God’s hands on this chess board called my life. Through the transition thus far, He has been intentionally deliberate. I have seen him move Pawns, Queens, Knights, Bishops and Kings in my way, all to propel me to a new level of self-understanding and self appreciation. He has deliberately put the right people in my path, and what I do with them is entirely up to me. But put them in my path, He has. I can only liken the situation to the old days of Long Playing records (LPs), when we would select the record, place it on the gramophone, pick up the pin, and carefully place it on the desired track to play to our delight.

He has literally placed all kinds of helpers, advisers, new acquaintances, collaborators, teachers, mentors, and future team mates etc on the road with me. I shall give you the full details of each encounter at a later blog. Just know that, henceforth, I am a firm believer in the deliberateness of His actions in mine and everyone else’s lives. We all simply need to have our eyes open to these encounters and know that  He IS ever present and ever working. Whether good or bad, it is designed as He wants it. He might not give you fish, if He knows you already know how to fish, but He will supply you with the fishing rod, the hook and the worms, you will however have to find the river, and then cast your rod.

Has it all been good news along the way? absolutely not. Has it all been smooth sailing?, not at all. But through it all, through the disappointments and the good times, there has always been a hint of positivity in the air, and I deliberately choose that energy, no matter how tiny… I am still nervous about my decision, but no longer as much. I am still anxious that things will not be easy, but nothing good comes easy they say, so I must be doing something right. For I know deep inside that, indeed, it is well, and it is rated AG (all good)…

Cheers to the future!!

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!

      “when writing the story of your life, don’t let anyone else hold the pen”

“what you think of yourself is much more important than what people think of you”         ~anonymous

                                                                                             

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Dear Blog,

Have you ever wanted, no needed some information that would enable you achieve a major goal, so badly, and the one person in the whole entire world who you know-knows pretty much everything about it, and can help you get from point A (where you are right now) to point B (where your heart desires to be) is actually a rude, obnoxious, loud mouthed, know it all, gosh-I-truly-don’t-ever-want-to-have-anything-to-do-with-him-or-her type of person?

Well, (inhaling deeply) that happened to me today (frowning emoji)

What to do? what to do?

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So, armed with the words of Jimmy Cliff (did I just age myself?) -“I’m gonna use what I got, to get what I need”- in my head, I braced myself, sucked in my tummy, straightened my shoulders, jutted out my chin, whipped my neck to the right, and swung back my locs (now, read that again, s-l-o-w-l-y. Get the picture? ok, let’s continue), put on my best Igbo- woman-with-determination-on-her-mind-and-success-in-her-heart-smile, walked right up to the person, and spoke to them…uuuuugggghhhh!!!

…and as is always the case, to my surprise, they were gracious! Didn’t even for one moment appear rude, was as attentive as ever, and had no issues with helping me out. As a matter of fact, they were willing to meet with me mas tarde to discuss my problem in details and offered to help me as much as I wanted, when ever I needed! Hmmmmm.

Moral of the story?, yea, go ahead, you guessed it, so tell me… I know you know it, so wipe that smirk off your face… like you are perfect or something?…;0)

Hey, at least I made the first move. I went up to them. I checked my “proud Maryness” at the door. I put on my I-truly-need-this-assistance-smile on and reached out first, didn’t I? Then again, I needed them, and they don’t really need me, right? so what’s my fuss?.

Reminder note to self: Since I am on a quest to start my Non-Profit Organization for At-Risk Teens. I am on a quest to save the world, one teen at a time. I am on a quest to throw them life lines and reel them back in… In that case, I must stay the course, stay on my lane, stay drama-free, stay focused, stay true to myself and my mission. I must get over my preconceptions, biases and other nuances that may come in the way of my success. In other words, I must get out of my own way.

Peace Still.

BB

“If we are honest with ourselves, we have to admit that sometimes our assumptions and preconceived notions are wrong, and therefore, our interpretation of events is incorrect. This causes us to overreact, to take things personally, or to judge people unfairly “ 

-Elizabeth Thornton

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!

 

 

Tu Edad?

EMBA

Hello there,

TGIF! I know my title looks kinda weird, but trust me, there is a story behind it.

So, you might not know this, but I am currently back in school! Yes, I am getting an executive MBA here at UTSA. As is required by any Masters program, you are frequently placed in teams to work on projects. My most recent project is called “The Paperclip Project” where we try to create value out of little or nothing. Essentially, we were placed in teams of 4s, but my team only consists of 3 of us, “Fernando” “Mariana” and I. Each team was given a paperclip and team members are to trade theirs up until we end up with something valuable, sell it on Ebay by the given deadline, and the proceeds are donated to The Battered Women and Children’s Shelter of San Antonio, TX.

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Today, as we are studying and prepping for our presentation, Fernando asks me what the significance of 1969 in my email is. I tell him, it’s the year I was born. He is marveled and thoroughly surprised and truly impressed by the way I look etc. I thank him and proudly tell him, “I turn fifty in a little over 8 months”.  A little later on, I hear Mariana ask Fernando his age, and he whispers, “37”. I look up in surprise, and ask “tu edad?” this means “your age?” in Spanish. What happened next was an eye opener.

It turns out neither Mariana, nor Fernando speak, or understand Spanish. This is news to me, because it is a phenomenon that has puzzled me for a while now since moving to San Antonio, TX. I have met tons of people with very traditional Hispanic faces and names, some even with a ? Spanish accent, but “do not” speak or even understand Spanish. So, of course, I bite the bait! I am all over it/them!

Eventually, Mariana sits me down to explain that “Spanish actually is” her first language, and she grew up speaking Spanish in her home, until she got ready to go to elementary school, then her parents pretty much “banned” her from speaking Spanish! They insisted she only speak English in school because “growing up in the San Antonio of her parents’ days, the city was extremely racist, and they were not allowed to speak Spanish in school at that time!” “What?” I retort, “but San Antonio is pretty much North Mexico!” “How was that even allowed?” but she shook her head and proceeded to tell me the story of her aunt who had bought her first home many moons ago, during that era, and on her title deed were inscribed the words “no Blacks or Hispanics allowed”. Needless to say, her aunt has the deed framed and displayed on the walls of the home.

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Why am I telling you this?, well, because, I now understand and appreciate why some of the folks I come across that look as Hispanic as ever, do not speak a word of Spanish. For a polyglot like me (I speak 6 languages) this is saddening, because I LOVE to speak languages and always want to practice. At work, I actually see most, if not all of my Spanish-speaking patients by myself. A feat I am extremely proud of, to the point that my colleague, Dr. M, (who teaches me and corrects my Spanish daily) once asked me what my Spanish name is, because he feels like I should be a “token Mexican”.

Anywho, I have to go now…I am still in class, and we have our Summer end of semester exams this weekend, plus we are learning about Milton Friedman vs Ed Freeman, Stockholder vs Stakeholder theories in Ethics. As for our little paperclip project? well, we made all of $463.00 in total from one single paperclip, and still had a few more items that were not sold by the deadline date. Not too bad for a relatively valueless item to start with.

Okay, I gats to go, al catch ya later!

Peace Still

BB

“If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart”                                                        -Nelson Mandela

“One language sets you in the corridor for life. Two languages open every door along the way”                                                                                                                                      – Frank Smith

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!

 

 

“Remember your Mantra…”

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Dear Blog,

Hi, welcome back! Thanks for stopping by once again. How have you been? Me? Oh, I have been doing kinda fine… Why? you wonder, well, it’s because I kinda did the bravest thing I have pretty much done in a looooong time. Two days ago, I turned in my resignation at my place of work. Yes, I thought long and hard about it before I did it, and I did it.

 

Did you read my welcome blog? If you did, then you know that I am on a quest to re-brand myself in this 49th space, as I usher in my 50th anniversary. No, quitting was not really on the menu, at least not like this, not this early, but, one thing I am learning, is when you fall in the river, you either quickly learn to swim…or you sink.

 

I have worked with my current employer for about 2 years now. Basically since I left the U.S Air Force in 2016. I am one of the top producers in my clinic, if not the top producer. I have given them my very best, and then some… Have I also asked for favors? yes, indeed, I have. I told them I needed time to go to school, during my intake interview, they obliged. I switched from four 10 hour days to five 8 hour days, with no resistance. I work from 10 a.m to 7 p.m daily to allow me study in the mornings, which has been a blessing. But I have also given ALL of me to them. I see my patients sans drama, I see more patients sans drama. My patients and I have a wonderful relationship. I will surely miss them, but… this call is greater than the sum of them and I. I know I bring a splash of “rainbow goodness” daily to work. I carry my unique African pride around the office with me, and my #blackgurlmagic?… oh yea! that’s a given! All this is because, I absolutely LOVE what I do. So, it’s not work, it’s my life.

However, there comes a time when one has to grow up and grow out. I believe that time has come. So, in the spirit of transparency and full disclosure, I informed my superiors  of my plans to pursue my dreams of entrepreneurship. I simply need more time on the weekdays to do so. I asked to work part time. A request which they denied. So, I did the only other thing one should do when they have vision, while those around them only have sight, I quit.

To my surprise, the elation did not last too long, when my arch nemeses, “Self Doubt” and its best friend, “Fear” came-a-calling. I started experiencing palpitations and other expressions of my autonomic nervous system, to the point that I believe I had a partial panic attack last night. I heard them in my head “What have you done, girl? Are you for real?  You done lost your mind, Chile? What about your bills? Don’t you have a son going off to college next month? Blah, blah, blah…” I even had a terrible headache from no where. I craved carbs like mad, and unfortunately, I let my cravings win, and ate half a container of gummy bears, some pop corn and a spicy chicken patty before I could stop myself (yea, I know my Beloved is going to read that last line, shake her head, and roll her eyes. Pero, es verdad).

I went to bed early, and woke up around 2am with tachycardia and warm sweat. I said a prayer to Jesus, and luckily, I was able to fall back to sleep. Woke up early, and started my morning Yoga Retreat exercises (by Beach Body) When my Beloved came out to leave for work, I was just finishing up. I told her about my panic episode, and asked her if she thought I had made a mistake. She calmly took a deep breath, looked me in the eye and said “No you didn’t”. “Remember your Mantra, she chided, If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough…” “Think about all those people who are routing for you, but most of all, focus on all those doctors, and teens who are waiting for your help, all those whose lives you will touch, who will benefit from your business(es), and stick with your plan. It is very normal for you to feel this way”.

I shed easy tears after she left for work. I was so touched by her words. I said a quiet thank you as the door closed behind her, and folded up my mat. And right then it became crystal clear to me that I had made the right decision, no matter what “Self Doubt” and “Fear” have to say about it. I also remember now, that about this time 2 years ago, I felt similar emotions when I decided not to renew my contract with the Air Force, but look how far I have come since then. I shall therefore, go forth with my Vision in one hand, and my Faith in the other. I figure Self Doubt and Fear, are no match for Vision and Faith. “No Retreat, No Regret…”

In closing, I will say a big thank you, to you again for stopping by. An even bigger thank you to God for making us possible, I did tell you, this, is about our relationship, didn’t I? I thank Him for making dreams. For creating bravado (of huge proportions) and giving me a slice of it. For beautiful supportive spouses. For Faith, Vision and  for Love, the greatest gift there ever was.

img_1945Until we meet again, I will echo M.J, in saying, “you keep dreaming…”

Peace Still.

BB

“Little girls with dreams become women with vision.”  Anonymous

 

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!

 

Dear Blog, I can’t believe I have so much to say, yet nothing to write…

I cannot believe that this day has finally come! The day I get to write my very first blog on my very own blog-site (my 17yr-old says I should not call it that, but what does he know, right?) I am soooo giddy with excitement at this, yet I am at a loss for words!

How does that even happen, and why? I am a writer, a word-smith, as my friend and high school classmate, U.N. affectionately refers to me (you’ll get to meet a bunch of my friends, if you stick around. In fact, you will get to meet my entire family, and everyone around me, especially those dear to me if you hang around long enough…just promise me you’ll come visit often, I will make it worth your while, I promise) Like I was saying, I am a talker, someone who always has a comment ready, a chatterbox, as my wifener calls me, a story teller. So, why am I not able to come up with something to say today?.

I want my blog to be fun, I want it to be interactive, I want folks to come here, read, connect, chuckle a little, laugh a little and even shed a tear or two if need be. So why am I unable to come up with something fun and engaging to write?

 

I guess I should tell you that frequently, as I go about my day, I hear words and phrases, comments, stories and everything in between, and I note them. So much so that I have, on many an occasion told myself, “if only I had a blog, I would write that…”, now I have a blog…and…nada? Where are all my stories? Hmmm. I hope I will eventually get over this block, “wait, what? a block? already? please say it ain’t so! Ok, let me rephrase, I know I will eventually make a headway, I am assuming this is common, and other experienced bloggers went through this. I am saying to myself, “the words will come”. They’d better.

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So, by the way, just how long should my blogs be? How often do I post? what exactly am I supposed to be writing about? what if I sometimes have more to say? or not enough to say?, does it really matter? as long as I am happy with the end result(s), right?

 

I want this personal blog to reflect me, my interests, my passions, my life on a daily. I want folks to see and experience my life and I through my words. You think I can pull that off? Hmmm? I want it to be successful. I want to continue blogging long after most have stopped. I want, I want, I want…

Do other newbies go through this same self doubt, and uncertainty? Fears that no one will read their blogs and they won’t/can’t become famous through them? I am really hoping that others experienced this as newbies, if not, H-town, we might have a problem…

Any-who, I needed to write something down on your page today before I lose my momentum. So I have, and I am done. I can only hope it is good enough. I know we just met, so I can’t tell you everything about me on our first meeting. In time, I will. I would also like to know about you. Who are you? how did you find me? what would you like to know about me? I can already tell this is going to be a good relationship. It is always about the relationships, but then, you already knew that, right? Please drop me a quick “hello” before you leave, would you?

Ok, I don’t want to bore you, so let me get off while I am ahead… I can promise you, my next letter will surely be jam-packed full of juicy stuff.

Until then…

Peace still.

BB

PS: My website dedicated to fighting teen depression and teen suicide, teenalive.com is LIVE, click the link to check it out!