The proud owner of…

…a NEW BLOG!

I’ve known what a blog is for quite a while.  I’m not one of those people who’s COMPLETELY behind the technological times.  I’ve always been interested in having my very own, but I always found an excuse to procrastinate.

So there I was this morning, staring at the empty “username” box.
How could one little box be so damned intimidating?!

Of course, I wanted something cute and catchy, but I also wanted something that would define me.  So I began to think about who I am.

My strengths and weaknesses flashed acrossed the screen of my laptop… then came my experiences… followed by my dreams and aspirations…  And in that moment ~ as I was trying to come up with something as simple as a username ~ it hit me!  I’m always changing.  I’m not the same person at 32 that I was at 15 or 21 or 25 or even 31!  And I won’t be THIS person when I’m 40 or 59 or even 33!  I’m always changing, with each new experience and each new day.

But one thing has been consistent throughout my life… and will remain consistent, I’m sure…

I’m Keyna… NOT KENYA.

The Keyna/Kenya Phenomenon… Explained.

I read one time that no matter how you jumble the letters of a word, as long as you keep the first and last the same, most people can still read it with ease.  Let’s test the theory…

I was bron and riaesd in suthoren Akranass.
Did you read “I was born and raised in southern Arkansas”?  …Of course you did!

Clearly, my mom was not considering this phenomenon when she chose my name.  I’m SURE if she had known that people would call me an African country my entire life, she would have found some other clever way to incorporate my godfather’s name into mine.  See, my godfather’s name is Jesse Owen Key, and my mom thought naming me “Keyna” would be a great way to honor my “Uncle Owen”.  And now that I’m older and wiser, I have to agree.  My name MEANS something to me… it wasn’t just chosen from a baby name book… and it wasn’t chosen just because my mom really liked a particular singer or actress.  I have an actual emotional attachment to my name… and even though I sometimes get annoyed when I’m called “Kenya”, it always makes me think of my godfather, and for THAT, I’m thankful.  (God rest the soul of my dear Uncle Owen.)