Housekeeping Vol. 2

A few things on my mind at the moment:

I have to re-learn how to blog. Thinking out loud in compelling, well-crafted sentences used to come so easily to me. Now, I feel myself getting bored in the middle of a thought and figure if I’m bored thinking it, you certainly don’t want to read it which leaves me scrapping posts, writing nothing, and still no better at getting my thoughts down.

It’s a rusty sword that needs sharpening, not neglect. We write through it.


If you’ve looked around, you’ll see I’ve added a new feature of sorts: A Day In the Life, photos that I’d normally post on Instagram, but am slowly moving over here. For starters, I want more of my creative content on my site. And quite honestly, IG is more of a PR tool for life announcements and flaunting my curves than a creative space. No one’s coming to IG for my thoughtful black and white faux-tography.


I have not mourned DMX’s death as I thought I would. Perhaps it’s because he so recently pondered his mortality and declared that he’d “lived a good life.” Or my own belief in death’s inevitability. A man who came from harrowing circumstances, who became an addict as a teenager, reached the top of the world and experienced more love than he could have ever fathomed he would. And after a lifetime of fighting, he can finally know peace.

Rest well, Mr. Simmons. You indeed lived a good life.


I finally saw a dermatologist to address the flaky, patchy skin issue. With my history of eczema and seborrheic dermatitis on my scalp, she logically concluded this is that and will treat it as such. In the meantime, I’m also switching to Cerave products exclusively (to help rebuild my skin barrier) and cutting back on dry skin offenders like the space heater in my office and booze for the next 30 days.

Please do not make additional recommendations. You mean well and I’m sure your esthetician is brilliant and your holy grail product is straight from the depths of the Dead Sea, but this is my plan of action. I need to see if it works before throwing everything but the kitchen sink at my face.


Despite being staunchly anti-obsessive tracking, I am getting a FitBit because I am “lifestyle change” years old. Booze at home during the week, binge-watching television, eating whatever I want, spending hours without moving…It’s all canceled.

Thankfully, I’m getting the FitBit from a friend who switched to an Apple Watch. Forking over $100+ to keep my ass off the couch would’ve poured salt in the wound.

I find myself un-learning efficiency. Walking to the neighborhood drug store instead of driving for two minutes. Using the restroom at the other end of the building at work. Parking as far as possible from the door when I go places. Cleaning my apartment in fits and starts instead of “just knocking it out” so I have the rest of the day to veg out.

Apparently “saving time” only creates opportunities to be sedentary. We off that.

With summer on the horizon and post-vaccination life ahead, I look forward to returning to my wandering ways. Trips to the park. Trips to the lake. Walking random neighborhoods to take pictures. Weekends at the Cleveland Museum of Art.

Fresh air. Sun on my skin. Movement. Gimme. It’s been too long.


Things I’m into this week:

  • The Black Girl Songbook podcast by Danyel Smith. Oh. My. God. I cannot say enough about how good this is. Danyel (former editor-in-chief of Vibe and author of one of my favorite pieces of music journalism) describes her pod as “in-depth discussions with your favorite songwriters, producers, and artists, as well as anecdotes from Danyel.” In reality, it is a love letter to black women in music. Well-researched and heartfelt, with a deep appreciation for music history as it happened; not as it’s been re-written by a generation of critics who didn’t have the privilege of living it.
  • Brasstracks’ cover of Drake’s “What Next.” I’ve never heard the original (this is an anti-Golden Grahams music blog), but my favorite trumpeter gave a stirring, brassy Drake-free rendition that jams and I am grateful.


And that’s a wrap on this edition of Housekeeping. Be good, kids. And if you can’t be good, at least try not to be assholes.

Published by

a girl named rob

I used to be "skinny black girl." I'm now a slender woman on the other side of 35 with no new moniker who is not quite interested in writing under her given name. Still writing my life, a day (or some months) at a time. Also, still black.

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