Monday through Friday, I rely on DC public transportation to get me to and from work. I ride the Red Line, which has to be one of the most traveled Metro lines in the whole Metro system. Nearly every morning, there is some sort of delay that prevents me from getting to work on time. Of course since I know that I’m certain to run into delays and such, it might make sense for me to start leaving my house earlier… but I’m not a morning person so if sleeping an extra ten minutes means I’ll be 20 minutes late for work, then so be it!
As the Obama Inauguration approached, it seemed as though Metro was becoming more and more inefficient. Everyday there was some mechanical problem with the track, or a train had broken down, preventing other trains from getting through, or there was a sick passenger on a car and the entire train had to be evacuated. One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the office, I couldn’t wait to get home. I walk into the station and immediately notice that the line to board the train is six people deep. It turns out that earlier in the afternoon, one of the rails at a station along the Red Line had broken and, although it had been repaired hours earlier, the trains were still delayed. See what I mean? Inefficient!
Anyway, looking around at all the people waiting to board the train, I know that I probably won’t make it onto the first train that comes, so I stand back, pull out my book and start reading. There are Metro cops trying to direct people so that there won’t be a mad rush of folks onto the approaching train. They are yelling, pushing, it’s really a madhouse. And I think to myself, if this is the way that the Metro runs on a regular day, how in the world will they be able to accommodate 2 million extra people during Inauguration weekend? It wouldn’t have been such a puzzling question if an announcement hadn’t been made earlier in the week that bridges, tunnels, and major streets leading into the District were being shut down and all Inauguration spectators were now encouraged to walk into the city or take the Metro.
Having heard that news and having witnessed the incredible ineffectiveness of Metro’s plan to move people in and out of the city quickly, I just knew that Inauguration Day would be a clusterfuck. It was during those 30 minutes of waiting on the platform for a train to take me home that I decided I would not be making my way downtown to witness history on January 20. I went back and forth about whether it mattered for me to be there “in person” or to be watching the event from my couch like the rest of America would be doing. And I came to the conclusion that we are all “witnessing history” just by being alive during this time. We are living this moment together and physically being in that throng of people wouldn’t have made the moment any more real or significant for me.
Will I look back and regret that decision? I don’t think I will. Friends of mine ventured out into the cold just to “see” it, but ended up watching on the Jumbotron, which isn’t really that much different from watching it on your television when you really think about it… is it? Plus, I got to see things up close and personal thanks to CNN and MSNBC. So, I don’t regret it at all.
What I might regret, however, was my decision not to attend any “official” Inauguration celebratory events (aka PARTIES). I definitely went to a few shin-digs to celebrate Obama, but they weren’t “balls” or anything like that. I’ve been seeing pictures that my friends have been posting on Facebook and it looks like a good time was had by all. There were tons of parties where gobs of young, Black, professional people were gathered together all in the name of history. I think it would’ve been good to be around that. But… I’m really just a quiet type of girl. I’ve realized that, while I like to have fun, I am really more attracted to a low-key lifestyle than a high profile one. Or, am I?
For years, I’ve felt this internal struggle about where I fit in. On the one hand, I’ve always wanted to be on television. I’ve wanted to be a news reporter for as long as I can remember. But when it came time for me to be in front of the camera, I decided that I preferred the writing and production aspect of the news… something more behind-the-scenes. I abandoned my journalism dream for law school and even when I got to law school, I had to decide whether I wanted to be a litigator or a transactional attorney. Law school is filled with type-A personalities (as I’m sure you can imagine) and tons of them wanted to be litigators… high-profile, quick on their feet, zealous advocates… the true rockstars of the legal world. I, on the other hand, was more attracted to the transactional lifestyle… the behind the scenes, thoughtful, much more low-key choice.
I’ve noticed that my party preferences are very similar. I could walk the red carpet or I could be at the small and cozy lounge located down the street from the big-ticket event.
Nine times out of ten, I’m going for the lounge.
The thought of preparing myself to look like I belong at a glamorous event is exhausting… the name-dropping at the door (you already know how I feel about that!)… the schmoozing… fighting to get through the crowds… it’s just so… not ME. So, I decided to avoid it.
And I was regretting that choice BIG TIME on Sunday morning. The night before, I’d been at what I thought was a “houseparty” (that’s the way the evite had described it), but what really turned out to be a 400-person private party with free food and free drinks. It was a great time. But I also knew of about 100 other black-tie and/or semi-formal events that were going on… including the BET Honors, which was being held in my office building and featured appearances by some big name celebrities. (You have to understand, DC is not a big-name celebrity sort of town. People slide through and then they slide right back out. So this Inauguration was a big deal to us natives and meant a whole lot more than just a moment in our nation’s history.) There were definitely no celebs at the “houseparty” that I attended, and we had a good time, but should I have at least TRIED to get into a more glamorous event that night? I really wanted to have an exciting story to tell my kids. Something more poignant than “mom went to a few casual parties and watched the Inauguration from her couch”…
Well, the best part about Saturday night was that the party started early… and ended early. I made it home by about 3am (I guess “early” is relative, huh?) and was able to hit the sack for a few hours before I woke up to attend church. Now, ordinarily, I wouldn’t have even tried to attend church after a night like the one I’d had, but I decided to give it a go since the word on the street was that the Obama family would be attending that morning’s service. Pre-election, he was slated to attend our church and he didn’t make it, so I wasn’t convinced that he’d actually show. My parents, who had some sort of inside scoop on the whole thing because they are on the Deacon and Deaconess Boards, suggested that I head over to the church around 7:30am even though service began at 11. I was a little skeptical, but figured I’d take their advice to be on the safe side. It’s a good thing I listened because when I arrived at the church, by about 7:50am, the line to get in the front door was wrapped around the block! I found my friend in the crowd and joined up with her and her two friends that she’d brought along. I figured that Obama would actually show this time because there were police officers and bomb-sniffing dogs, DC police, fire marshals, and secret service swarming the place. At around 8:45am, my mother called us to the front door. There was a secret service officer standing there, and he was joined by the President of the Usher Board.
“Where are my ushers?” he asked. “Kelli, are you ushering today?” (I’ve been a member of the Usher Board for about 2 years, but I rarely usher.)
“Uh… sure,” I say, walking through the front door leaving the cold and the crowd behind.
When I get inside, I see that there’s a metal detector set up at the front door. A metal detector… in a church? It seems strange, but I understood it was necessary. I spent the next few hours trying to direct people to seats so that counts could be taken. There were about a thousand people outside waiting to get in and only 700 seats in the sanctuary. Secret service let it be known that they would not allow more people than could be seated in the main sanctuary, so at 700, we were cut off.
Finally, we got everyone into a seat and they closed the doors. Service began and the ushers remained in the back to assist with any latecomers. I noticed that our pastor was missing. About 10 minutes into the service, the doors opened and Pastor came through. The ushers stood and watched. Following the pastor, was Barack Obama… the President-Elect (at the time) of the United States. By his side was Sasha. He stopped and greeted us individually, as did the First Lady who was flanked by Malia. Grandma Robinson brought up the rear. They moved quickly, but I did get a word in with all of them. And it was such a thrilling moment that it really all seems like a blur. I mean, I remember that the President seems much smaller in person. He’s extremely skinny, has a few more gray hairs than I remembered, and has large ears… and he’s DEFINITELY hotter in person than he is on TV. Good lawd! And I remember that the First Lady was absolutely stunning. She wore a deep purple sleeveless number and her arms are toned and fabulous… sort of like Angela Basset channeling Tina Turner in “What’s Love Got to Do With it” only less muscular. In-person, she’s very feminine, delicate, and petite, which are character traits that don’t always shine through on TV. The kids are just angels and they are all so gracious and personable. They stayed for the entire service, and after service was over, they shook hands and hugged and allowed folks to take pictures. It was really great.
Sure, there were a lot of people in town fighting to find their place in this moment in history. And some of them went to glamorous parties… and some of them met celebrities. But, I met the reason for it all. And I didn’t have to drop a name, or fight through throngs of people to do it. Best of all, I got my story out of it. I can tell my children that I not only met the President and the First Lady, but I met the First Kids, too… and Grandma! It was an amazing experience and one that I won’t soon forget.
After I church, I decided to rest. I’d been partying two days straight and really didn’t have the energy to do it all over again. Plus, I felt like meeting the President was the pinnacle of such a weekend. There was really no need to do anything more than that. My story might trump those of others who did nothing but party for the whole weekend.
So, instead, I stayed home and just reflected on things. I asked myself stuff like what do I want to get out of this life? And who do I want to be? Will I be happy having lived my low-key low-maintenance life? Or should I try for more? And, trust me, you definitely have to TRY to live a life like that! An acquaintance of mine who knows EVERYONE and was at the middle of all the Inauguration-mania, hitting four parties a night and rubbing elbows with mucho celebrities, even admitted that it was tough work getting into all those events. It takes EFFORT. Maybe that’s what I’m lacking… the energy, will, and drive to make that effort. Maybe that means I don’t really want or need anything greater or more glamorous than the life I’m living…
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
A piece of my mind/New Year's cleanse
I don’t know about y’all, but for me… 2009 isn’t getting off to that great of a start. The month of January is almost half-done and I’m just now posting for the first time this year. That’s bad. Really bad. I also have a list of “resolutions” (or “goals”… whatever you prefer) that I haven’t even begun to start! This time last year, I was making steady progress on the goals I’d set out to accomplish. This year… not so much. Anyway, I’m not gonna beat myself up over it. When I told my boy D that I was disappointed in myself for starting 2009 off on the wrong foot he cracked up laughing and said, “What did you expect to accomplish at this point? We’re only two weeks into the New Year! Stop being ridiculous!!” And he’s right. I am being ridiculous and much too hard on myself (as usual). I have another 50 weeks to get on the ball. That should be plenty of time to get serious about my goals (I hope!).
Anyway, you may remember that for the last two years, I’ve been doing some sort of cleansing (spiritual or physical) at the beginning of the year. Well, this year, I decided to do a mental and emotional cleansing (you’ll get an idea of what I mean below) … and boy did it feel great!!
And now… today’s topic:
Ok, so being a blogger is tough. And one of the hardest parts about being a blogger is coming up with original topics that your readers might find interesting. As you know, I am a fan of several other blogs. I read them because I find them interesting and I admire the stories told and the writing styles featured in each of them. But reading other writers is difficult because I’ll read something and think “I know a story like that” or “Wow, this post is really making me have some thoughts of my own that I’d like to share”. And, then… I’ve come up with a blog topic, but it’s not original. When I would write research papers in high school, I would always ask my mother to read them over to make sure that I wasn’t plagiarizing. The administrators at my school put fear in my heart about plagiarism, threatening us with the possibility of suspension or even expulsion, and being the goodie-two-shoes that I am, I’ve been extremely sensitive to the issue ever since. but when I’d be sitting there sweating bullets over whether I’d cited the sources to back up every argument in my paper, my mother would always say, “Nothing that’s written or spoken is original anyway. Somebody’s written it or said it all before.” And, in a way, she’s right. But even though she’s right, I just don’t feel good about swiping an idea from another writer.
That’s why it’s really funny that today’s post comes from my friend Tasha’s blog. And Tasha herself swiped it from another blog she reads called “I’m Quietly Judging You”. The blogger at “I’m Quietly Judging You” is a Midwesterner who’s been living in New York for the last few years. She’s returning to her hometown soon and decided that a good way to end her time in New York would be to tell everyone she befriended in New York exactly what she thinks of them (without using any names or identifying characteristics). And she included the good, the bad, and the ugly thoughts she had about everyone of those people. The blogger at “Quietly Judging” actually did this for 50 people. Tasha did it for only about 10 people, but the post really resonated with me. I am not trying to be mean or spiteful with anything that I say. These are just things that I’m thinking, but would never actually verbalize because… well… because I am not generally an asshole. Anyway, I personally think that doing this sort of thing will be really cathartic and cleansing and is a radical way to end a year/begin a new year. By doing this, I’ll learn a lot about myself and also learn a lot about my genuine feelings for those people that I choose to address in this post. I will not use names or identifying characteristics. I will try to be concise about each one. And, no, I will not tell you which one of these is about you, so don’t ask!
So, yes, I am jacking a blog topic that’s already been done by two other bloggers. I don’t feel GOOD about stealing the idea, but that doesn’t mean I’m ABOVE it.
Now, onto the task at hand…
1. I don’t know what I would do without you. Even before I took my first breath, you were caring for me. You’ve been my best friend and my biggest cheerleader. The best parts of me come from you. But, unfortunately, because of you, I do not take risks and cannot make decisions. Because of you, I am afraid to do so many things.
2. I wish you would stop making excuses… about everything! Get off your ass and do something! Stop being afraid of everything! You are a miserable and insecure person and it shows. Everyone wants the best for you, but you will never realize your dreams because you have to want that for yourself... and you don’t want it. In spite of all that, you are a wonderful friend and I still like you.
3. Men love you, women envy you, but you are not as cute as you think you are. You think you are advanced for your age, but you are actually very immature. I was drawn to you because I thought you were confident and grounded but really you are one of the most insecure people I’ve ever met. You are also an attention whore (I believe this stems from your insecurities) and it shows in everything you do and say. But you are a solid friend.
4. You are one of the most selfish people I’ve ever known. Everything is about you all the time. I feel sorry for anyone who tries to love you because everyone else’s feelings are secondary to your own. You are chasing a dream that may never come true, which at one point seemed ambitious, but now is becoming pathetic.
5. You are inconsistent and sometimes you drive me crazy! But I think you’re great. And I especially love that you have no idea how wonderful you are. You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, one of the funniest, one of the most supportive. I like you. A lot. And I hope that you like me, too.
6. I wish you were smarter, less self-centered, and a little more “polished”. But you have been a very good friend to me.
7. I watched you make the biggest mistake of your life. You ruined a perfectly good thing. You let it all go because you are spoiled and suffer from an entitlement complex. You think you’ve won, but you’ve really lost. Big time. Despite all this, I still like you and want to see you end up on top.
8. All of my insecurities come from you. Because of you, I will never fully trust another man. You were the worst boyfriend a woman could ever have. You wounded my self-esteem. At one point I was in love with you, but now I do not even like you. At your core, I think you are a bad person. I forgive you for what you did, but I will never forget.
9. You have suffered so much loss in your life and handled it all so gracefully. I hope that I will react and rebound in a similar manner when/if faced with the same. You achieved what you have because of things that I did for you and now someone else is reaping the benefits, which makes me sad. But still, I am proud of you and what/who you have become.
10. I don’t really know you well, which is a shame because we have the same blood coursing through our veins. We have nothing in common. If we were not related, I do not think we would be friends. I know you are unhappy and I wish that you would do something to improve your situation. I know you won't, though. But I love you and I am proud of you and I thank you for the two gifts that you have given me.
11. Every conversation I have with you stresses me out. Everything you say to me is negative. Because of you and your domineering persona, I have lost all direction in life. Every complex I have about men stems from my relationship with you. I owe my independent spirit and glibness to you. You are one of the smartest people I know, but just because you’re smart it doesn’t mean you know it all. Everything you do annoys me. And every time I look at you I know that I’ll never be good enough in your eyes. Yet, I love you and continue to seek your approval.
12. You’re beautiful both inside and out even though you act as if you don’t know it. We can go for long periods of time without talking to each other yet pick up right where we left off. You are funny and supportive.
13. I have never met a more judgmental person. You are not smarter than everyone else and you need to stop acting like it. I have watched you make some really, really dumb mistakes and yet you continue to judge other people in that holier than thou manner of yours. But I admire your courage and your ability to act without caring what other people think of you and your decisions.
14. You are kind, caring, and sweet. You are one of my best friends. I think you have some issues that you need to resolve. You should stop engaging in such risky behavior because it is a cry for help.
15. Both of you are beautiful, funny, and smart and you deserve nothing but the best out of life. I hope that you accomplish whatever you set your minds to do. You are strong and independent. I love you as though you were my own. I wish I could protect you from all the ugliness in this world. You will face challenges, hurt, and defeat and that breaks my heart. But in the end, I have faith that you will make the right decisions. I am rooting for both of you.
16. You are strange. Yet I am inexplicably drawn to you. At one time I wanted you for myself, but now I don’t. I hope you find someone who can love you despite your quirks. We are two peas in a pod.
17. You are generally fierce, but sometimes when you try to be fly you end up looking ridiculous. I always wanted to be your friend because you were confident, smart, and stylish, and everyone liked you. After I got to know you, I discovered that you are overrated.
18. It took me a while to like you. For years, I wished that you were just a little smarter, just a little prettier, just a little funnier. And then, I realized that you are great just the way you are. I am starting to get comfortable with you.
19. What can I say about you? Well, you're always the life of the party, that's for sure! You always wanted to give me what I was looking for, but I was too young and too stupid to appreciate it. And I've watched you build this great life and now you're sharing it with someone else. I can't help but kick myself every time I think about it. It should have been me.
20. You are the absolute best. Thank you for being so cute, loyal, and consistent.
Anyway, you may remember that for the last two years, I’ve been doing some sort of cleansing (spiritual or physical) at the beginning of the year. Well, this year, I decided to do a mental and emotional cleansing (you’ll get an idea of what I mean below) … and boy did it feel great!!
And now… today’s topic:
Ok, so being a blogger is tough. And one of the hardest parts about being a blogger is coming up with original topics that your readers might find interesting. As you know, I am a fan of several other blogs. I read them because I find them interesting and I admire the stories told and the writing styles featured in each of them. But reading other writers is difficult because I’ll read something and think “I know a story like that” or “Wow, this post is really making me have some thoughts of my own that I’d like to share”. And, then… I’ve come up with a blog topic, but it’s not original. When I would write research papers in high school, I would always ask my mother to read them over to make sure that I wasn’t plagiarizing. The administrators at my school put fear in my heart about plagiarism, threatening us with the possibility of suspension or even expulsion, and being the goodie-two-shoes that I am, I’ve been extremely sensitive to the issue ever since. but when I’d be sitting there sweating bullets over whether I’d cited the sources to back up every argument in my paper, my mother would always say, “Nothing that’s written or spoken is original anyway. Somebody’s written it or said it all before.” And, in a way, she’s right. But even though she’s right, I just don’t feel good about swiping an idea from another writer.
That’s why it’s really funny that today’s post comes from my friend Tasha’s blog. And Tasha herself swiped it from another blog she reads called “I’m Quietly Judging You”. The blogger at “I’m Quietly Judging You” is a Midwesterner who’s been living in New York for the last few years. She’s returning to her hometown soon and decided that a good way to end her time in New York would be to tell everyone she befriended in New York exactly what she thinks of them (without using any names or identifying characteristics). And she included the good, the bad, and the ugly thoughts she had about everyone of those people. The blogger at “Quietly Judging” actually did this for 50 people. Tasha did it for only about 10 people, but the post really resonated with me. I am not trying to be mean or spiteful with anything that I say. These are just things that I’m thinking, but would never actually verbalize because… well… because I am not generally an asshole. Anyway, I personally think that doing this sort of thing will be really cathartic and cleansing and is a radical way to end a year/begin a new year. By doing this, I’ll learn a lot about myself and also learn a lot about my genuine feelings for those people that I choose to address in this post. I will not use names or identifying characteristics. I will try to be concise about each one. And, no, I will not tell you which one of these is about you, so don’t ask!
So, yes, I am jacking a blog topic that’s already been done by two other bloggers. I don’t feel GOOD about stealing the idea, but that doesn’t mean I’m ABOVE it.
Now, onto the task at hand…
1. I don’t know what I would do without you. Even before I took my first breath, you were caring for me. You’ve been my best friend and my biggest cheerleader. The best parts of me come from you. But, unfortunately, because of you, I do not take risks and cannot make decisions. Because of you, I am afraid to do so many things.
2. I wish you would stop making excuses… about everything! Get off your ass and do something! Stop being afraid of everything! You are a miserable and insecure person and it shows. Everyone wants the best for you, but you will never realize your dreams because you have to want that for yourself... and you don’t want it. In spite of all that, you are a wonderful friend and I still like you.
3. Men love you, women envy you, but you are not as cute as you think you are. You think you are advanced for your age, but you are actually very immature. I was drawn to you because I thought you were confident and grounded but really you are one of the most insecure people I’ve ever met. You are also an attention whore (I believe this stems from your insecurities) and it shows in everything you do and say. But you are a solid friend.
4. You are one of the most selfish people I’ve ever known. Everything is about you all the time. I feel sorry for anyone who tries to love you because everyone else’s feelings are secondary to your own. You are chasing a dream that may never come true, which at one point seemed ambitious, but now is becoming pathetic.
5. You are inconsistent and sometimes you drive me crazy! But I think you’re great. And I especially love that you have no idea how wonderful you are. You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, one of the funniest, one of the most supportive. I like you. A lot. And I hope that you like me, too.
6. I wish you were smarter, less self-centered, and a little more “polished”. But you have been a very good friend to me.
7. I watched you make the biggest mistake of your life. You ruined a perfectly good thing. You let it all go because you are spoiled and suffer from an entitlement complex. You think you’ve won, but you’ve really lost. Big time. Despite all this, I still like you and want to see you end up on top.
8. All of my insecurities come from you. Because of you, I will never fully trust another man. You were the worst boyfriend a woman could ever have. You wounded my self-esteem. At one point I was in love with you, but now I do not even like you. At your core, I think you are a bad person. I forgive you for what you did, but I will never forget.
9. You have suffered so much loss in your life and handled it all so gracefully. I hope that I will react and rebound in a similar manner when/if faced with the same. You achieved what you have because of things that I did for you and now someone else is reaping the benefits, which makes me sad. But still, I am proud of you and what/who you have become.
10. I don’t really know you well, which is a shame because we have the same blood coursing through our veins. We have nothing in common. If we were not related, I do not think we would be friends. I know you are unhappy and I wish that you would do something to improve your situation. I know you won't, though. But I love you and I am proud of you and I thank you for the two gifts that you have given me.
11. Every conversation I have with you stresses me out. Everything you say to me is negative. Because of you and your domineering persona, I have lost all direction in life. Every complex I have about men stems from my relationship with you. I owe my independent spirit and glibness to you. You are one of the smartest people I know, but just because you’re smart it doesn’t mean you know it all. Everything you do annoys me. And every time I look at you I know that I’ll never be good enough in your eyes. Yet, I love you and continue to seek your approval.
12. You’re beautiful both inside and out even though you act as if you don’t know it. We can go for long periods of time without talking to each other yet pick up right where we left off. You are funny and supportive.
13. I have never met a more judgmental person. You are not smarter than everyone else and you need to stop acting like it. I have watched you make some really, really dumb mistakes and yet you continue to judge other people in that holier than thou manner of yours. But I admire your courage and your ability to act without caring what other people think of you and your decisions.
14. You are kind, caring, and sweet. You are one of my best friends. I think you have some issues that you need to resolve. You should stop engaging in such risky behavior because it is a cry for help.
15. Both of you are beautiful, funny, and smart and you deserve nothing but the best out of life. I hope that you accomplish whatever you set your minds to do. You are strong and independent. I love you as though you were my own. I wish I could protect you from all the ugliness in this world. You will face challenges, hurt, and defeat and that breaks my heart. But in the end, I have faith that you will make the right decisions. I am rooting for both of you.
16. You are strange. Yet I am inexplicably drawn to you. At one time I wanted you for myself, but now I don’t. I hope you find someone who can love you despite your quirks. We are two peas in a pod.
17. You are generally fierce, but sometimes when you try to be fly you end up looking ridiculous. I always wanted to be your friend because you were confident, smart, and stylish, and everyone liked you. After I got to know you, I discovered that you are overrated.
18. It took me a while to like you. For years, I wished that you were just a little smarter, just a little prettier, just a little funnier. And then, I realized that you are great just the way you are. I am starting to get comfortable with you.
19. What can I say about you? Well, you're always the life of the party, that's for sure! You always wanted to give me what I was looking for, but I was too young and too stupid to appreciate it. And I've watched you build this great life and now you're sharing it with someone else. I can't help but kick myself every time I think about it. It should have been me.
20. You are the absolute best. Thank you for being so cute, loyal, and consistent.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Hey! You remind me of a girl that I once knew...
First things first, you’ll recognize that the blog has a new look. Our new design is courtesy of my good friend from high school. He’s into graphic design and all that jazz. I told him I wanted a new look and he got to work, showed me a few mockups and this was our final choice. What do you think? I’m really digging the little picture of the girl with the flipped hair. In college, I wore my hair in a flip, like, everyday, so when I first saw the new page, I fell in love. Thanks, buddy, for all your hard work. He’s going to keep playing around with things, so the layout might change over the course of the next couple of months, but… we’ll see. I like things the way that they are, but I’m open to new ideas if he happens to come up with something better.
So, I disappeared for awhile. I think I’m back now, but who the hell knows. I’m actually tired of making promises that I can’t keep, and I figure that you’re probably tired of hearing my lame-o excuses, so let’s just agree that I’m wack for staying away for so long and then keep it moving.
On to the real topic.
Try to describe my physical appearance. Go ahead… try. Those of you who know me would probably say that I'm short… thick/chubby/fluffy… brown skin, brown hair, brown eyes… pretty non-descript. There's nothing more that could really be said… what I outlined above pretty much sums me up. There is nothing striking about me. In fact, I think that if you tried to "describe" me to someone who's never seen me before, Your description could probably apply to just about every brown girl in the universe.
I'm pretty regular. And I guess that explains why I have the most familiar face - if not in the world, then certainly in the Washington Metropolitan area. I can't go anywhere without people either thinking that I'm someone else or comparing me to someone I know. On my first day at the new job, one of the admins stopped me in the corridor to ask me if I was related to some family that lived in her neighborhood because I "look exactly like their youngest daughter". I'm sure this is a perfectly nice family, but I'm definitely am NOT related to these people.
I'll be standing in line at the deli during my lunch break and the guy who spreads the mustard will tell me I look exactly like his cousin or his ex-girlfriend. Yesterday, I went to pick up Sister Souljah's new book and as I walked from Barnes & Noble to my office building, I ran into a group of older homeless men who were sitting on a bench along E Street. One of them calls out, "Hey girl! You look like this woman I knew once." I couldn't even be mad. I had to laugh. It was a real trip. Lol! I'm thinking do I really look like a woman you "once knew". Really?
So, yeah… the familiarity thing was getting to be a tad bit bothersome. Although, it has also worked to my advantage a few times. A couple years ago, VH1 had this show called "Divas Live". I never watched the show, so I'm not 100% sure about the premise of the show. But what I do know is that apparently there was a contestant on the show who looked like me and she was beating the shit out of all the other contestants! Well, one weekend while this show was on the air, my girlfriends and I went to our favorite late night eats spot in Adams Morgan. The very gay, but very cool manager of the spot came over to our table with a starstruck look in his eyes and immediately swooped down on me, asking breathily, "Are you the girl from that VH1 show?”
My face reflected my genuine confusion. “Which VH1 show?” I asked.
“Divas Live!” he said. “I love that show!” At this point, he actually starts fanning himself as though the thought of me being this girl in the flesh was just too much for his body to take. It was as if he had officially overloaded his circuits at the mere thought. LOL!
“Um… no. That is not me,” I sadly informed him.
He paused for a second and tilted his head with a puzzled look. I’m certain that for a second he thought I was lying about my identity. He was positive that I was this woman.
After a minute or so of silent contemplation, he decided that he believed me.
“Well, you might not be her,” he said apologetically, “but I am happy that you’re here, honey. You are just adorable!”
I was flattered. I’ll take a compliment no matter who’s giving them out. And, from there, I had a genuine friend for life. Nelson (that was his name) always hooked my friends and I up from that moment on. Whenever we wanted a table in that particular spot, we’d ask for him. He would float through the crowd and shower us with air kisses and the next thing you know, we’d be seated with a minimal wait time even during on the busy nights… and there would almost always be a discount applied to our bill. Not bad for just resembling a “celebrity”.
The funniest part about it all was when I was getting rung up at the cash register at work and the cashier said, “Did anyone tell you that you look just like the girl on the VH1 “Divas...”
“Yes,” I cut her off mid-sentence. “I have heard that before.”
Finally, I decided that I better look up this person so that I could see if there was really any resemblance. I was SO disappointed when I saw her. No disrespect to this woman, but I don’t feel that I resemble her at all. But, hey, if it gets me prime seating at my favorite restaurant and a discount on my food and drinks, then who am I to question?
One day, I was standing in the line at the pharmacy picking up some medication for my grandmother and this older gentleman who was also standing in line was staring intently at my face. I got to the counter and picked up the medicine and was heading back out to the car, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and it was the old man from the pharmacy line. He asked me my name and I told him. Then, he asked me if I was Haitian. That was the first time I'd gotten that. I've been asked if I am Ethiopian, Dominican, and Panamanian, but never Haitian. I told him that I’m not.
"Why do you ask?" I said.
He told me that I reminded him of a woman named Marie Claudette that was his "friend" in high school. I put the word friend in quotation marks because while he described their friendship as platonic, he had a wistful look in his eyes that suggested there may have been more to their relationship (maybe it was one-sided… who knows?). I wondered how he thought that I could be someone he went to high school with. My mother probably wasn't even born when he was in high school – so surely I couldn’t have been! Maybe he thought I could be Marie Claudette's granddaughter or something.
Well, the old dude looked so hopeful that I might BE Marie Claudette or maybe at least related to her and so hopeful that they might be reunited, it hurt me to have to tell him that I didn't know her at all. He proceeded to tell me a few stories about Miss Marie and I could see that she was a character (as am I!) and I could also tell that this man cared for her deeply. His eyes danced as he described her and he chuckled a few times... It came out sounding more like a giggle, which was disarming coming from a man of his age.
As much as I enjoyed talking to him, I wrapped up our conversation and he ended it by saying, "Marie Claudette was a beautiful person both inside and out. Even if you don't know her, I can tell that you're a lot like her." And he smiled a very vibrant smile and wished me well. It was a touching moment. Usually, I'm bored with people who mistake me for someone else, but this particular moment, I was glad that I was able to take this man back to a happy time in his life.
I guess that I’ll continue to try to reap the benefits of my familiar face. Although, it could get to be a problem if someone thinks I remind them of a person that they don’t particularly care for.
Until then, whenever someone says, “Hey, you look just like…”, I’ll just smile, graciously accept any compliments, explain who I REALLY am, and move on.
So, I disappeared for awhile. I think I’m back now, but who the hell knows. I’m actually tired of making promises that I can’t keep, and I figure that you’re probably tired of hearing my lame-o excuses, so let’s just agree that I’m wack for staying away for so long and then keep it moving.
On to the real topic.
Try to describe my physical appearance. Go ahead… try. Those of you who know me would probably say that I'm short… thick/chubby/fluffy… brown skin, brown hair, brown eyes… pretty non-descript. There's nothing more that could really be said… what I outlined above pretty much sums me up. There is nothing striking about me. In fact, I think that if you tried to "describe" me to someone who's never seen me before, Your description could probably apply to just about every brown girl in the universe.
I'm pretty regular. And I guess that explains why I have the most familiar face - if not in the world, then certainly in the Washington Metropolitan area. I can't go anywhere without people either thinking that I'm someone else or comparing me to someone I know. On my first day at the new job, one of the admins stopped me in the corridor to ask me if I was related to some family that lived in her neighborhood because I "look exactly like their youngest daughter". I'm sure this is a perfectly nice family, but I'm definitely am NOT related to these people.
I'll be standing in line at the deli during my lunch break and the guy who spreads the mustard will tell me I look exactly like his cousin or his ex-girlfriend. Yesterday, I went to pick up Sister Souljah's new book and as I walked from Barnes & Noble to my office building, I ran into a group of older homeless men who were sitting on a bench along E Street. One of them calls out, "Hey girl! You look like this woman I knew once." I couldn't even be mad. I had to laugh. It was a real trip. Lol! I'm thinking do I really look like a woman you "once knew". Really?
So, yeah… the familiarity thing was getting to be a tad bit bothersome. Although, it has also worked to my advantage a few times. A couple years ago, VH1 had this show called "Divas Live". I never watched the show, so I'm not 100% sure about the premise of the show. But what I do know is that apparently there was a contestant on the show who looked like me and she was beating the shit out of all the other contestants! Well, one weekend while this show was on the air, my girlfriends and I went to our favorite late night eats spot in Adams Morgan. The very gay, but very cool manager of the spot came over to our table with a starstruck look in his eyes and immediately swooped down on me, asking breathily, "Are you the girl from that VH1 show?”
My face reflected my genuine confusion. “Which VH1 show?” I asked.
“Divas Live!” he said. “I love that show!” At this point, he actually starts fanning himself as though the thought of me being this girl in the flesh was just too much for his body to take. It was as if he had officially overloaded his circuits at the mere thought. LOL!
“Um… no. That is not me,” I sadly informed him.
He paused for a second and tilted his head with a puzzled look. I’m certain that for a second he thought I was lying about my identity. He was positive that I was this woman.
After a minute or so of silent contemplation, he decided that he believed me.
“Well, you might not be her,” he said apologetically, “but I am happy that you’re here, honey. You are just adorable!”
I was flattered. I’ll take a compliment no matter who’s giving them out. And, from there, I had a genuine friend for life. Nelson (that was his name) always hooked my friends and I up from that moment on. Whenever we wanted a table in that particular spot, we’d ask for him. He would float through the crowd and shower us with air kisses and the next thing you know, we’d be seated with a minimal wait time even during on the busy nights… and there would almost always be a discount applied to our bill. Not bad for just resembling a “celebrity”.
The funniest part about it all was when I was getting rung up at the cash register at work and the cashier said, “Did anyone tell you that you look just like the girl on the VH1 “Divas...”
“Yes,” I cut her off mid-sentence. “I have heard that before.”
Finally, I decided that I better look up this person so that I could see if there was really any resemblance. I was SO disappointed when I saw her. No disrespect to this woman, but I don’t feel that I resemble her at all. But, hey, if it gets me prime seating at my favorite restaurant and a discount on my food and drinks, then who am I to question?
One day, I was standing in the line at the pharmacy picking up some medication for my grandmother and this older gentleman who was also standing in line was staring intently at my face. I got to the counter and picked up the medicine and was heading back out to the car, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and it was the old man from the pharmacy line. He asked me my name and I told him. Then, he asked me if I was Haitian. That was the first time I'd gotten that. I've been asked if I am Ethiopian, Dominican, and Panamanian, but never Haitian. I told him that I’m not.
"Why do you ask?" I said.
He told me that I reminded him of a woman named Marie Claudette that was his "friend" in high school. I put the word friend in quotation marks because while he described their friendship as platonic, he had a wistful look in his eyes that suggested there may have been more to their relationship (maybe it was one-sided… who knows?). I wondered how he thought that I could be someone he went to high school with. My mother probably wasn't even born when he was in high school – so surely I couldn’t have been! Maybe he thought I could be Marie Claudette's granddaughter or something.
Well, the old dude looked so hopeful that I might BE Marie Claudette or maybe at least related to her and so hopeful that they might be reunited, it hurt me to have to tell him that I didn't know her at all. He proceeded to tell me a few stories about Miss Marie and I could see that she was a character (as am I!) and I could also tell that this man cared for her deeply. His eyes danced as he described her and he chuckled a few times... It came out sounding more like a giggle, which was disarming coming from a man of his age.
As much as I enjoyed talking to him, I wrapped up our conversation and he ended it by saying, "Marie Claudette was a beautiful person both inside and out. Even if you don't know her, I can tell that you're a lot like her." And he smiled a very vibrant smile and wished me well. It was a touching moment. Usually, I'm bored with people who mistake me for someone else, but this particular moment, I was glad that I was able to take this man back to a happy time in his life.
I guess that I’ll continue to try to reap the benefits of my familiar face. Although, it could get to be a problem if someone thinks I remind them of a person that they don’t particularly care for.
Until then, whenever someone says, “Hey, you look just like…”, I’ll just smile, graciously accept any compliments, explain who I REALLY am, and move on.
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