Text to My Girlfriends

For me, it’s often a distinct flavor of the home. Similar to remembering how my grandma’s house smelled when I was growing up, the enduring taste at the home of my closest family friends (I homeschooled with them every day for two years, so we’re talking CLOSE!) was from the can of Tony Chachere’s. Just a whiff of it now can jolt me back for a moment, to the huge old wooden house, standing out with its brilliantly painted gingerbread, as a rarity built among the archetypical brick homes of St. Louis. I’m sitting on a stool at the island in the kitchen, and Mrs. Rice is giving our odd angsty little crew of not yet blossomed adolescents a fierce exhortation. “Your worth is not based in what you accomplish!” she would remind us, while dishing out bowls of the platonic ideal of chicken noodle soup, which we inhaled with rolls and, of course, Tony’s.  When Paris sent me her home’s blends, I was delighted by the Cajun blend she mixed. It’s becoming my own amped up version of Tony’s, a mi...

I got a frann that is always down for a frolic. Whether it’s late-night Wendy’s runs to satisfy pregnancy cravings, or eating fried pollock in a Popeyes parking lot before we shut down a Target - the good sis is always down! Early in our friendship we spent a lot of time wandering the aisles of Target just talking. We had been vibing long enough for me to pick up that she wasn’t okay. She often just shares but this day she was desperate to avoid talking in general. I really can’t remember what I said to her, but we went from looking at mugs (one of her favorite things) to her crying in my arms. Womanhood was trying to wear her out, but we got to share a “this is sisterhood” moment in the middle of a Target.  If you haven’t already gathered, I stan for my girl gang. Our text threads go from kiki’s to the most vulnerable topics. We flow like that because these relationships offer us the safety to be the best, worst, and most broken versions of ourselves. Sometimes it’s these moments ...

Some of the best and worst times of my life include a hug from one of my best friends. My girl-gang, my tribe, my squad, my sisters . The relationships I’ve made over the last 10+ years have been the most life-changing. I seriously hit the best friend JACKPOT.  Sisterhood is central to who I am, I can’t imagine my life without them. Like I can look back on so many memories sharing tears (of joy and pain) in the arms of these women.  As a kid, my parents used to have very “lively” conversations, and my earliest memories of my sister are of her whisking me away to calm me down and clean my face. I have a friend who lives near a smaller airport, where they don’t scream at you to keep moving while you wait at Arrivals. And every time she’d pick me up, we’d run into each other’s arms and scream like Aunt Viv and her sisters! When grief would knock me down and I could cry in the lap of my friend at church. Like the church is going up in a full penticostal praise break, and here I am...

I always love talking food with Abi. It's become one of our things! “I’ve got this in the fridge. What do you think?” “I made this for brunch last week, you would have loved it!” We talk about everything food, so I was really surprised when she was surprised that I had been making my own spice blends. It seems like something that we would have talked about. Like most things, they were created out of necessity. I didn’t have the spice I needed, but I had the components so bada bing, bada boom - Spices Blends. I really didn’t think it was all that special, because I needed to cook so I made what I needed.  Baby Sis was born during the holiday season, and Christmas breakfast is very special to me. After a C-section during a pandemic, I couldn’t do the Big Breakfast I/my mom would normally do, but I was determined to have a little razzle dazzle. I had planned for shrimp and grits. I was going to be following Beyond the Pot ’s recipe and had gotten all the groceries together. It wa...

It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year! This blog has been a passion project growing in my heart for a very long time. I’ve always wanted to share the moments we never mention with others so we could learn together. The crazy thing about that is, I can be incredibly insecure and I often don’t share a lot of things about my life for fear of judgment. Starting this blog is definitely one of those things that I wanted to start for a while but didn’t because “who would even like that?!” I’ve literally been sitting on this idea for years.  If you’ve been my friend for a while, then you know this isn’t my first blog attempt. I started with Squirrels and Rings, a blog about being engaged as an anxious woman. It was well received. (If you haven’t read it, check it out. I think early 20’s me was funny.) Anytime I mentioned starting a new blog to anyone familiar, the response was positive. No one thought it was a bad idea, or that it would flop, but me. My inner critic wasn’t taking a...

Whew, Franns! I don’t know about you but I’m often trying to project that I have it all together. Sometimes it’s very intentional. I coach myself into confident postures like a Lifetouch photographer on picture day! “Chest up. Turn your shoulders. Chin down a little. Perfect!” I want to look like I got it together because I am deathly afraid of being embarrassed.  For as often as I feel embarrassed, you would think that I would come to terms with the fact that it’s just a fact of life. Sometimes you get caught slippin’. *shoulder shrug* I struggle to accept it! That I won’t be “perfect” all the time, that my “cool” girl persona is truly a façade, that we all are AT LEAST ⅔ “uncool” at any given moment (Especially when we’re being our true selves). And when my head gets too big, when I start to believe my own charade, life has a funny way of bringing me back to earth. I’m grateful when the universe humbles me in small ways. Slight trip on the sidewalk, a little milk stain on my shir...