In case you have never met my mom, here's a brief introduction.
an actual conversation b/w Amelia & her mother...
***Amelia's phone rings***
AMELIA: hello
DORIS: hello? who did i call?
AMELIA: mommy?
DORIS: who is this?
AMELIA: Amelia!
DORIS: oh...i didn't mean to call you. did you watch barack's speech?
AMELIA: yes. did you see nancy???
DORIS: girl yes! she popped up everytime he took a breath. she betta watch out. michelle's watchin her and michelle don't play
AMELIA: ***LOL'ing***
DORIS: i'm serious! michelle will kick her ass! and who was that indian man from louisiana? they shoulda neva let him speak. i bet he puts curry in his gumbo...
AMELIA: ***still LOL'ing***
DORIS: i'm serious. did i tell you about that man who cooked curry in the kitchen at work while i was pregnant with you? OH! i can't stand indian food. oh...now i remember who i was supposed to call. aunt June! she loves barack about as much as nancy...***singing***me & mrs. pelosi! we got a thiiiiiing goin on!!! love you girl!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
For my Daughter/Future Daughter-in-Law
I hope I can tell this story to my daughter or future daughter-in-law one day...it goes a little something like this...
ME: Did I ever tell you about the day that I received my wedding gown?
HER: No
***sidebar*** of course she'll say "no" because I'll be waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell this story. I've committed to keeping it quiet for the next 20 years.
ME: Well, in the weeks leading up to my wedding, I'd been fighting a sense of insecurity. It's just that I've been to a lot of really fabulous weddings. Weddings with open bars, gourmet food, prestigious chapels, popular djs...everything. Because of this I had imagined that my wedding would follow suit - even though I'd made a habit of rolling my eyes nearly everytime I received a save the date or invitation. But when my turn finally came, finding a dress was a big deal. It is for everyone, really. But somehow this turned into a mini-Soap Opera. I ordered it from J. Crew on a Friday - it was delivered to my office the following Wednesday.
***shocked look from daughter***
Yeah...I guess they're just really effecient. Anyway, I had it shipped to my office so there wouldn't be any hiccups at my apartment. For some reason I didn't trust the mail system in my Brooklyn neighborhood and I just didn't want to risk it.
HER: You lived in New York?
ME: Yes, but that's another story. Ok, so...the package arrived and suddenly, but inevitably, a bundle of nerves gathered in my stomach. I grabbed a pair of scissors, marched into the kitchen and hurriedly opened the box (which, to the unknowing delivery man may have contained a cardigan or a pair of flats). As I looked into the faces of my co-workers, a tidal wave of emotion swept over me - they were unimpressed and under-whelmed. One commented "It's just so...plain..." another said "One thing's for sure - your boobs will look great!"
HER shocked: What?
ME: Yeah...not quite the reaction I was going for and certainly not the circumstance in which I was hoping to reveal my wedding dress. I guess in my mind I had imagined having it delivered to my apartment on a Saturday, calling my mom, sister and best girlfriends and demanding their presence - one would even bring champagne. I'd emerge from my room to an intimate audience and everyone would oohh and ahhhh. They would compliment the dress and my mother, with tears in her eyes, would say "That. Is. The. Perfect. Dress.". Maybe we'd go to dinner or lunch afterward - it would be a wonderful day. But instead I got blank stares and at the end of the day, when the office janitor came, he reached under my desk, shook the box and asked if it was trash.
HER grimacing: Ouch...
ME shrugging: I left the office, got on the train, got home, tried it on, hung it up and committed to losing a few more pounds.
HER sympathetically: Awwww...
ME: Yes...I say all this to say I pray that other weddings and wedding preparations have not tainted your image of what a wedding is supposed to be. Just honor the Lord in it all and everything will be lovely - besides that, no one is going to tell you that you look bad at your wedding. At least not to your face...
ME: Did I ever tell you about the day that I received my wedding gown?
HER: No
***sidebar*** of course she'll say "no" because I'll be waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell this story. I've committed to keeping it quiet for the next 20 years.
ME: Well, in the weeks leading up to my wedding, I'd been fighting a sense of insecurity. It's just that I've been to a lot of really fabulous weddings. Weddings with open bars, gourmet food, prestigious chapels, popular djs...everything. Because of this I had imagined that my wedding would follow suit - even though I'd made a habit of rolling my eyes nearly everytime I received a save the date or invitation. But when my turn finally came, finding a dress was a big deal. It is for everyone, really. But somehow this turned into a mini-Soap Opera. I ordered it from J. Crew on a Friday - it was delivered to my office the following Wednesday.
***shocked look from daughter***
Yeah...I guess they're just really effecient. Anyway, I had it shipped to my office so there wouldn't be any hiccups at my apartment. For some reason I didn't trust the mail system in my Brooklyn neighborhood and I just didn't want to risk it.
HER: You lived in New York?
ME: Yes, but that's another story. Ok, so...the package arrived and suddenly, but inevitably, a bundle of nerves gathered in my stomach. I grabbed a pair of scissors, marched into the kitchen and hurriedly opened the box (which, to the unknowing delivery man may have contained a cardigan or a pair of flats). As I looked into the faces of my co-workers, a tidal wave of emotion swept over me - they were unimpressed and under-whelmed. One commented "It's just so...plain..." another said "One thing's for sure - your boobs will look great!"
HER shocked: What?
ME: Yeah...not quite the reaction I was going for and certainly not the circumstance in which I was hoping to reveal my wedding dress. I guess in my mind I had imagined having it delivered to my apartment on a Saturday, calling my mom, sister and best girlfriends and demanding their presence - one would even bring champagne. I'd emerge from my room to an intimate audience and everyone would oohh and ahhhh. They would compliment the dress and my mother, with tears in her eyes, would say "That. Is. The. Perfect. Dress.". Maybe we'd go to dinner or lunch afterward - it would be a wonderful day. But instead I got blank stares and at the end of the day, when the office janitor came, he reached under my desk, shook the box and asked if it was trash.
HER grimacing: Ouch...
ME shrugging: I left the office, got on the train, got home, tried it on, hung it up and committed to losing a few more pounds.
HER sympathetically: Awwww...
ME: Yes...I say all this to say I pray that other weddings and wedding preparations have not tainted your image of what a wedding is supposed to be. Just honor the Lord in it all and everything will be lovely - besides that, no one is going to tell you that you look bad at your wedding. At least not to your face...
Monday, February 16, 2009
Me & My 8th Grade Self
Toward the end of elementary school I began developing crushes like most other girls. My first was harmless. His name was Courtney. He was very much like me - brown eyes, a little silly and a bit over-weight...
Just a bit...
After realizing that my grand gestures of love and devotion were not working (i.e. wearing my mom's foundation, wearing softee's shorts under my uniform skirt and mastering tae kwon do), I moved on...and up. Seeing as how I was a teenage, African-American female living in the suburbs circa 1996 the obvious choice for me was Tyson Beckford. He was tall, dark, handsome and therefore justifiable. And even though I had convinced myself that he and Tyra Banks were dating (they had to be. At the time there were an outrageous number of Planet Hollywood's opening worldwide - they were bound to run into each other), I still loved him and was willing to watch their alleged romance blossom from afar.
As the years rolled on and I went from nerdy RHS freshman to a Senior Stingerette, my love for Tyson waned and a full moon for N*SYNC and Abercrombie & Fitch rose.
But you never forget your first love...
And that is why when I went to my very first NYC Fashion Week show I nearly shat myself when Tyson STRUTTED HIS FINE SELF ONTO THE RUNWAY!! See video below:
The man is dang near 40 and doesn't look a day over 25. The entire crowd went wild when he came out for the first time, which leads me to believe I was not the only girl to have a crush on the man...shucks...
Either way the entire night was fun and we ended up partying at The Plaza Hotel with industry big-wigs. Even Solonge Knowles stopped by to drop a few tunes (to which I busted some of my signature dance moves).
Overall it was a great way to kick off Fashion Week!!
Just a bit...
After realizing that my grand gestures of love and devotion were not working (i.e. wearing my mom's foundation, wearing softee's shorts under my uniform skirt and mastering tae kwon do), I moved on...and up. Seeing as how I was a teenage, African-American female living in the suburbs circa 1996 the obvious choice for me was Tyson Beckford. He was tall, dark, handsome and therefore justifiable. And even though I had convinced myself that he and Tyra Banks were dating (they had to be. At the time there were an outrageous number of Planet Hollywood's opening worldwide - they were bound to run into each other), I still loved him and was willing to watch their alleged romance blossom from afar.
As the years rolled on and I went from nerdy RHS freshman to a Senior Stingerette, my love for Tyson waned and a full moon for N*SYNC and Abercrombie & Fitch rose.
But you never forget your first love...
And that is why when I went to my very first NYC Fashion Week show I nearly shat myself when Tyson STRUTTED HIS FINE SELF ONTO THE RUNWAY!! See video below:
The man is dang near 40 and doesn't look a day over 25. The entire crowd went wild when he came out for the first time, which leads me to believe I was not the only girl to have a crush on the man...shucks...
Either way the entire night was fun and we ended up partying at The Plaza Hotel with industry big-wigs. Even Solonge Knowles stopped by to drop a few tunes (to which I busted some of my signature dance moves).
Overall it was a great way to kick off Fashion Week!!
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
God Goes Digital
Did you know God's a blogger? Well, He is. And He will read your blog, too. Here's what happened...
After I finished my blogging on Saturday night I decided I'd file my taxes. Luckily I found my 2007 taxes while digging through a box of books, trinkets and old mail (how did I get that subscription of Shape, again??). After breezing through the H&R Block system, I came to the important part - the grand total! Looks like Uncle Sam was feeling generous, so I'll get a nice little refund!
On Monday (less than 48 hrs after my blog), my mother was offered a job. 15 miles from the house and with a group of people she really enjoys.
On Tuesday after community group (less than 72 hours after my blog), I found out one of the other group members lives a block away from my apartment.
The Man is quick and I am foolish for my disbelief. Thank you Jesus.
After I finished my blogging on Saturday night I decided I'd file my taxes. Luckily I found my 2007 taxes while digging through a box of books, trinkets and old mail (how did I get that subscription of Shape, again??). After breezing through the H&R Block system, I came to the important part - the grand total! Looks like Uncle Sam was feeling generous, so I'll get a nice little refund!
On Monday (less than 48 hrs after my blog), my mother was offered a job. 15 miles from the house and with a group of people she really enjoys.
On Tuesday after community group (less than 72 hours after my blog), I found out one of the other group members lives a block away from my apartment.
The Man is quick and I am foolish for my disbelief. Thank you Jesus.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Seeing is...???
Have you ever dealt with enormous amounts of disbelief? I'm seriously having a "Are there you, God" moment/week/month/year. I want to hear from Him, but I swear I never hear anything. I ask for friends in New York and have yet to make a connection with someone who will actually call me on the weekend. I stay in my room all Saturday and Sunday emerging only for a glass of water. The most social interaction I have is looking at everyone else's Facebook updates...
Jenna is having dinner with friends.
Leslie is ready for a fun night with friends.
Janet enjoyed the day with her son.
Enisha is in Paris with her best friends
Well, Amelia wants to jump out of a plane...parachute-less. I do...
Why develop an "NYC Bucket List" when no one cares to see me check those things off? I'd almost rather drown in a bucket than walk the Brooklyn Bridge, dine in Chinatown, shop in SoHo or people watch in Central Park by myself. I ask for financial and emotional relief for my mother, yet she's still job-less after 8 months. I ask for guidance for my wedding, but now I may not even have centerpieces and best of all, I get to do my hair myself. All arbitrary stuff, but still important to some degree. I wanted the day to be special. I wanted it to stick out from the rest. I wanted to dance with my husband in a beautiful white dress but now I might as well call it all off and tell everyone to meet me at Luby's. At least they have centerpieces.
Do I build an altar in His name? Perhaps I'll draw some attention if the fire is big enough, He'll see me out of the corner of His eye and scribble on his palm "Talk to Amelia, 5pm". Here's to hoping He doesn't wash His hands.
Even if there was an altar, it'd probably be struck down because according to obscure book, verse 4:8-9, you should only build your altar with these materials, with this heart and at this time of day...ugh! I guess I missed small group the week we memorized that verse. Maybe I should stand at the top of The Empire State Building, start my fire and yell His name from there. I'd be arrested for sure but at least I'd have some social interaction.
I'm told to be faithful. I'm told that I get Christ.
What. Does. That. Mean.
I want to brag on YOU! I want a reason to say "LOOK! World! Look how great my God is!! Look at the amazing thing He did!!!!!" But I feel like I'm doing this whole life thing on my own anyway. Lord, please come rock my world (population 1) and let me know You hear me. Let me know You exist.
Jenna is having dinner with friends.
Leslie is ready for a fun night with friends.
Janet enjoyed the day with her son.
Enisha is in Paris with her best friends
Well, Amelia wants to jump out of a plane...parachute-less. I do...
Why develop an "NYC Bucket List" when no one cares to see me check those things off? I'd almost rather drown in a bucket than walk the Brooklyn Bridge, dine in Chinatown, shop in SoHo or people watch in Central Park by myself. I ask for financial and emotional relief for my mother, yet she's still job-less after 8 months. I ask for guidance for my wedding, but now I may not even have centerpieces and best of all, I get to do my hair myself. All arbitrary stuff, but still important to some degree. I wanted the day to be special. I wanted it to stick out from the rest. I wanted to dance with my husband in a beautiful white dress but now I might as well call it all off and tell everyone to meet me at Luby's. At least they have centerpieces.
Do I build an altar in His name? Perhaps I'll draw some attention if the fire is big enough, He'll see me out of the corner of His eye and scribble on his palm "Talk to Amelia, 5pm". Here's to hoping He doesn't wash His hands.
Even if there was an altar, it'd probably be struck down because according to obscure book, verse 4:8-9, you should only build your altar with these materials, with this heart and at this time of day...ugh! I guess I missed small group the week we memorized that verse. Maybe I should stand at the top of The Empire State Building, start my fire and yell His name from there. I'd be arrested for sure but at least I'd have some social interaction.
I'm told to be faithful. I'm told that I get Christ.
What. Does. That. Mean.
I want to brag on YOU! I want a reason to say "LOOK! World! Look how great my God is!! Look at the amazing thing He did!!!!!" But I feel like I'm doing this whole life thing on my own anyway. Lord, please come rock my world (population 1) and let me know You hear me. Let me know You exist.
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