Since the census went out, I have heard this question so many times. I have seen it in newspaper articles and on the lips of close friends and relatives. So I did some digging and found this question answered on the Census Question and Answer page:
Question: Why is the term "Negro" used in the race question?
Answer: A test embedded in the 2010 Census will measure the effect of removing the term "Negro" on reports about a person’s racial identity. The results will be used to inform design changes for future surveys and the 2020 Census. In the 2000 Census, more than 50,000 persons chose to write down explicitly that they identified themselves as “Negro.”
ADDITIONAL BACKGROUND:
The Census Bureau included the term “Negro” because testing prior to Census 2000 indicated that numbers of respondents self-identified with this term. Census 2000 data showed that 56,175 respondents wrote in the term "Negro" in response to the question on race, even though the term was included in the category label for a checkbox. This does not include the unknown numbers of respondents who may have checked the box “Black, African Am., or Negro” because of the presence of the “Negro” identifier.
Research in the 2000s did not include studies of the effect of dropping “Negro” from the list “Black, African Am., or Negro” on responses. Such research is important to avoid unanticipated consequences of changing question wording on the outcome of a census. As stated above, this research will be conducted as part of the 2010 decennial census.
So, to break that down further, over 50,000 people WROTE IN the term 'negro' on their census in 2000. That's not to say that it was a good idea to put it on the 2010 form, but that is a strong identification that the term meant something to the people that wrote it in 10 years ago. I put up this note because there are too many people blinded by pride who are choosing not to fill out the form because they feel the term 'negro' is too reminiscent of slavery. Personally, I agree and do not identify as negro. I identify as African American, and there was a check-box on my form that said that (along with other things). I am filling out my census on behalf of my community, and area that I deeply care about and want to see properly supported. As a member of a democracy, I have sent emails to my elected officials and hope not to see the word 'negro' on a census form again. But this slip up will not prevent me from doing my part to help my community.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 1, 2010
Proper Concert Etiquette
So, I attended a John Mayer concert (featuring Michael Franti) at Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids last night. It was was a sort of ladies night for me, my friend Tori, and her sister Chrissi. Overall, I had a wonderful time. But for the life of me, I can't understand how some people still don't understand what the proper etiquette is for a concert. And, contrary to popular belief, there is an etiquette for concerts. That's why I'm here! Let me school you right quick:
Rule #1: Concerts are made for standing.
I don't know about any of you, but when I'm at home and I'm feeling a song, I get up and dance. I also dance at nightclubs, bathrooms, and kareoke bars. So, if I happen to be seeing one of my favorite artists in concert (Robin Thicke, Maxwell, Johnny Boy, etc.), why would you expect me to sit in my seat? I paid very good money for these tickets, so I will enjoy myself for every dollar I spent. And if that means that I'm standing up, you better not bitch if you're sitting behind me. Let me give you a prime example: I was at the Maxwell concert in Detroit not long ago and was having a good old time. But I heard a very old woman say "This is a grown and sexy concert; we all gon' be sitting down." Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Them tickets was more than a good pair of shoes. I'll be damned if I don't enjoy myself. You better get ur old ass up, or out.
Rule #2: It typically gets very hot at concerts.
If you've ever been to a concert, I'm sure you know how hot it gets. And, if you haven't, let me give you a mental picture: imagine about 600-1000 people standing in very close proximity to each other for about 3 hours. Most likely everyone's mouth is open and they're screaming the whole time. Besides the hot breath, there are no windows and the A/C looses its kick right around the 30 minute mark. Given this scenario, why would you wear a long sleeved collared shirt and a North Face fleece and expect not to be on fire? And, my dears, if you are stupid enough to do something like this, please don't lean over to me every 3.5 minutes and remark about the temperature of the room. You've been warned; if you cry to me about this, I will let you know about yourself.
Rule #3: Use caution when speaking to strangers
For whatever reason, alcohol + large public gatherings encourages people to make new friends with whoever might (unfortunately) be seated to the direct left or right of them. Beware of this. While I am not excusing the people who do this, I do want you to be prepared. You might encounter Tim, who happens to be there with a girl, but they're just friends, and now he wants to be your best friend. Tim will tell you his life story as soon as his not-quite-a-date date goes to the bathroom. He'll tell you how far he traveled for the concert, where he plans to take his not-quite-a-date date when they leave the concert, and what hotel they booked for the night. Just humor him with a couple quick nods and smiles. Also, look out for Kara. While she seems nice enough, Kara has had way too much to drink, and she will also become your best friend before the opening act packs up. By friend, I mean hanging all over you, shouting the lyrics in your ear, and inviting herself into the group photos you take with your real friends. Kara might need a little more nudging to get the hint, but she'll understand when you start leaning into your own friends throughout the rest of the night.
Rule #4: If you want to make out, buy the CD and take ur ass home
This final rule is also the most important. While I like to believe that its just me and him when I'm smoochin with my hunny in public, I know there are other people there, and it makes everyone feel a little less comfortable. If you recall from Rule #1, I spent a lot of $$ for these tickets, and I didn't pay for the impromptu soft-core happening in Row 6. Take it home, people. Or, just to be romantic, contain all the sexual tension for the bathroom stall you'll eventually sneak off to (CLASSY!). But seriously, unless its the end of a the night at a undergraduate basement party, keep it in your pants til you find a private place. That way I won't uncomfortably stare at you with the stink face while I should be focusing on John Mayer and his unusually tiny butt.
So, ladies and gentlemen, I hope these rules will make your next concert experience a little bit better. Please feel free to pass this along to the Tim's and Kara's in your life. They'll need it.
With love,
xoxo
Feb 24, 2010
Some Good Does Come Out of Social Media
Jay Smooth - How to Tell People They Are Racist
Hello world.
As part of the administration at a public university, I get invited to a lot of meetings and events. Today, for example, I got invited to a speaker who talked to us about embracing our uniqueness and unpacking our social baggage. He spoke about understanding what makes us 'us' and recognizing those same unique qualities in others. He was a fabulous speaker by the name of Vernon Wall. Google him.
Anyway, by far the most resonating part of Vernon's presentation was when he introduced me (and about 60 of my colleagues) to a man by the name of Jay Smooth. Jay Smooth is a hip-hop blogger and radio host out of New York. What caught my eye the most is how Jay makes a case for social issue that exist both inside and outside the hip-hop spectrum. He touched on issues like race, homophobia, American tradition, and how important it is to know what you're saying BEFORE you say it.
I urge everyone to check him out. He's got a Youtube page, and for anyone who's like you, you'll be clicking on all his videos for the next hour or so. I also suggest you check out his website Ill Doctrine, where there is a larger and more diverse collection of his videos.
I won't say too much about why I have become his newest fan/groupie. I'll let you figure that out on your own. So, enjoy, my loves.
Hello world.
As part of the administration at a public university, I get invited to a lot of meetings and events. Today, for example, I got invited to a speaker who talked to us about embracing our uniqueness and unpacking our social baggage. He spoke about understanding what makes us 'us' and recognizing those same unique qualities in others. He was a fabulous speaker by the name of Vernon Wall. Google him.
Anyway, by far the most resonating part of Vernon's presentation was when he introduced me (and about 60 of my colleagues) to a man by the name of Jay Smooth. Jay Smooth is a hip-hop blogger and radio host out of New York. What caught my eye the most is how Jay makes a case for social issue that exist both inside and outside the hip-hop spectrum. He touched on issues like race, homophobia, American tradition, and how important it is to know what you're saying BEFORE you say it.
I urge everyone to check him out. He's got a Youtube page, and for anyone who's like you, you'll be clicking on all his videos for the next hour or so. I also suggest you check out his website Ill Doctrine, where there is a larger and more diverse collection of his videos.
I won't say too much about why I have become his newest fan/groupie. I'll let you figure that out on your own. So, enjoy, my loves.
Feb 22, 2010
Love Your Body
As a woman myself, I know that there are things we fret over that never cross the minds of our male counterparts. We think about if the milk has gone bad, if the bed was made, did we take all the vitamins and pills we were supposed to take and what will happen if we haven't. Silly things that really shouldn't occupy so much of our time. But the one thing that I believe all women shamefully obsess over is our bodies.
Being self-conscious is not just a western thing. Women across the world engage in different rituals to make their bodies look a particular way. Although it is less practiced, there is foot binding in some parts of Asia. There is also the practice of neck extension by use of rings in some African and Asian cultures. More contemporary women turn to a myriad of skin products, fad diets, and plastic surgery to get the bodies they have always wanted. But, when its all said and done, no women is ever 100% satisfied with the way they look in a mirror 100% of the time.
If this is the case, and I'm sure most/all women can attest to the fact that it is, then why do we spend so much time being interested in how we look? I can't help but find the source in our romantic/intimate interactions. I can't say that it is men who have "made us this way". For women who are attracted to other women, it seems like it would be even more difficult, trying to make yourself attractive to someone with the same set-up at you. But why are we so obsessed with attracting someone by using false advertising? Better yet, why are we still so obsessed with our bodies even AFTER we have finally snagged someone we claim to love and care about?
Granted, I am speaking from a place of privilege here. I have been blessed to find someone who loves me on my best and worst days. I have someone who has seen my weight fluctuate, my face break out, and my "morning face". Sometimes I do get a bit self-conscious, just for my own sake. But when I really think about it, I remember how silly it all is. I love me for me, every inch, pound, and pimple of me. Because I know that I cannot love anyone else before I love myself.
Those who matter don't judge, and those who judge don't matter.
Being self-conscious is not just a western thing. Women across the world engage in different rituals to make their bodies look a particular way. Although it is less practiced, there is foot binding in some parts of Asia. There is also the practice of neck extension by use of rings in some African and Asian cultures. More contemporary women turn to a myriad of skin products, fad diets, and plastic surgery to get the bodies they have always wanted. But, when its all said and done, no women is ever 100% satisfied with the way they look in a mirror 100% of the time.
If this is the case, and I'm sure most/all women can attest to the fact that it is, then why do we spend so much time being interested in how we look? I can't help but find the source in our romantic/intimate interactions. I can't say that it is men who have "made us this way". For women who are attracted to other women, it seems like it would be even more difficult, trying to make yourself attractive to someone with the same set-up at you. But why are we so obsessed with attracting someone by using false advertising? Better yet, why are we still so obsessed with our bodies even AFTER we have finally snagged someone we claim to love and care about?
Granted, I am speaking from a place of privilege here. I have been blessed to find someone who loves me on my best and worst days. I have someone who has seen my weight fluctuate, my face break out, and my "morning face". Sometimes I do get a bit self-conscious, just for my own sake. But when I really think about it, I remember how silly it all is. I love me for me, every inch, pound, and pimple of me. Because I know that I cannot love anyone else before I love myself.
Those who matter don't judge, and those who judge don't matter.
Feb 19, 2010
A Great Sense of Accomplishment
As a young person, I was always told to have goals. Into my adult life, I still fully support this notion. No matter if they are long term or short term goals, let your daily activities be for a greater cause that you can be proud of. At this exact point in my life, my goal is to have a marvelous wedding, no matter how "non-traditional" it is going to be.
For those who don't know, my fiance and I have made plans to get married in the VERY near future. Because of our time schedules and the fact that we live almost 6 hours away from each other, it makes sense for us to do things the way we are. We've planned an "intimate" ceremony with close family with a dinner to follow. But, regardless of the tiny size, this wedding is coming with all the fix'ns.
First, there's the dress: Without giving too much away, it is quite possibly the prettiest thing I have ever had the opportunity to put on. I feel more comfortable in it than I did in my prom dress. But it is the emotion that surrounded the purchase that impacted me the most. With this being the first purchase toward the wedding (and the fact that I went dress shopping alone, by choice), I was an emotional wreck. I cried in my car for about 20 minutes after I put the dress in my trunk. But, that was the first and largest hurdle I would have to get over in this process.
From here, everything else seemed pretty simple. I've picked out the rings, we've secured the venue, and I sorta have my hair picked out. From here, I still have flowers, shoes, make-up, and pampering. Oy-vey!
In all seriousness, I am in a strange zen-state right now. I have an amazing support system of friends and family behind me. I truly believe that everything that is crucial for this wedding will fall into place in time. I'm getting to a place where I'm not even nervous anymore.
So, one of my short term goals is to have a fabulous wedding and to marry the dude of my dreams (lol). And I'm almost there. Praises!
**This blog is dedicated to all of the people who have been in my corner through mental breakdowns and all-day errand trips: Rori, Danielle, Jerome, Mommy, Crystal, and above all, my sweetie JML.
For those who don't know, my fiance and I have made plans to get married in the VERY near future. Because of our time schedules and the fact that we live almost 6 hours away from each other, it makes sense for us to do things the way we are. We've planned an "intimate" ceremony with close family with a dinner to follow. But, regardless of the tiny size, this wedding is coming with all the fix'ns.
First, there's the dress: Without giving too much away, it is quite possibly the prettiest thing I have ever had the opportunity to put on. I feel more comfortable in it than I did in my prom dress. But it is the emotion that surrounded the purchase that impacted me the most. With this being the first purchase toward the wedding (and the fact that I went dress shopping alone, by choice), I was an emotional wreck. I cried in my car for about 20 minutes after I put the dress in my trunk. But, that was the first and largest hurdle I would have to get over in this process.
From here, everything else seemed pretty simple. I've picked out the rings, we've secured the venue, and I sorta have my hair picked out. From here, I still have flowers, shoes, make-up, and pampering. Oy-vey!
In all seriousness, I am in a strange zen-state right now. I have an amazing support system of friends and family behind me. I truly believe that everything that is crucial for this wedding will fall into place in time. I'm getting to a place where I'm not even nervous anymore.
So, one of my short term goals is to have a fabulous wedding and to marry the dude of my dreams (lol). And I'm almost there. Praises!
**This blog is dedicated to all of the people who have been in my corner through mental breakdowns and all-day errand trips: Rori, Danielle, Jerome, Mommy, Crystal, and above all, my sweetie JML.
Feb 14, 2010
How To: Maintain a Long Distance Relationship
The meaning of Valentine's Day differs depending on who you ask. To some, its a day in the year when you show your love with special gifts and unique activities. To others, its a Hallmark holiday, perpetuated by big business. Now, ask someone like me what Valentine's Day means.
I've been in a long distance relationship for over two years. That's two years of celebrating holidays on a Friday-Saturday-Sunday timeline. That's missing birthdays and major events. That's driving HOURS to spend a couple precious days together. Then there are long stretches of time apart, weeks of not being able to see the face of the person you love. So, to me, a Valentine's Day without my baby is a day when I am confronted with the fact that most people can be with the one they love and I can't. Not by choice, but by circumstance.
But all is not lost. Thank God for options like the phone and email. Without them, I don't know where I'd be. So that brings me to the first tip on maintaining a long distance relationship:
#1: Communication is the Ultimate Key!
Communication truly is the key to every healthy relationship. Friends need it, married couples need it, even coworkers need it. But the need for communication is magnified when you can't have a conversation with that person IN PERSON. I have always been a person who wears my emotions on my face. When I'm happy, I smile. When I'm sad, I cry. When I'm angry, my eyebrows scrunch. But you can't see that through text or a telephone. So I've learned how to vocalize my emotions and concerns. No long-distance relationship can last without it. At this point, I have become attune to what emotion corresponds to the sound of my fiance's voice and can react to that. That bond and understanding has brought us to the place we are in today, and I don't know where we'd be without it.
#2. Long distance relationships redefine "commitment"
Being away from your love for long periods of time really f*cks with you. Even if you have no reason to believe they could be cheating on you, you'll imagine a scenario where something like that would happen. You all know the old adage "Out of sight, out of mind"? That goes to an even deeper level under these circumstances. Right now, I live 6 hours away from my hunny. Of course I have thought (on more than one occasion) that something might be going on while I'm up at school. But, in my heart (away from my paranoid mind), I know that I have a man who is committed to me just like I am to him. I couldn't imagine screwing around and I know he could't either. So, another tip for the toolkit is knowing that times will be difficult, but it is the commitment that exists deep down within you that will sustain the truest of love.
#3. Missing them is normal
It is impossible to love someone and expect to be strong all the time. When your love is out of reach, times will come when the loneliness is all consuming. You'll get anxious; your throat will close up; you'll get angry and frustrated. Believe me, that's all normal and I'd be concerned if you never felt that way. It is necessary to feel like you miss that person and let that emotion sink it. That's really a sign that there is something genuine to the relationship. I had a difficult time comprehending that for a long time. Miss Toni Jones is not one for lots of emotion and damn sure ain't one for tears. But I'm not too proud to say that, on nights like Valentine's Day when I have to fall asleep by myself, I graciously let a couple drip-drops fall. For me, that just reinforces how determined I am to get through my responsibilities so I can be with my hunny. So go for it, let that emotion out. Don't try to be strong, because there really is no one you're being strong for.
Hopefully my musings reach someone out there. I know I'm not the only person spending this holiday of love alone out of circumstance. And I also know that a couple of these tips resonate across the spectrum of relationships. Communication, commitment, and the ability to show emotion will strengthen any bond.
So, this one goes out to all my friends and, especially to my sweetie Jenon. Keep doin' ya thing babe. Mami will be home soon.
I've been in a long distance relationship for over two years. That's two years of celebrating holidays on a Friday-Saturday-Sunday timeline. That's missing birthdays and major events. That's driving HOURS to spend a couple precious days together. Then there are long stretches of time apart, weeks of not being able to see the face of the person you love. So, to me, a Valentine's Day without my baby is a day when I am confronted with the fact that most people can be with the one they love and I can't. Not by choice, but by circumstance.
But all is not lost. Thank God for options like the phone and email. Without them, I don't know where I'd be. So that brings me to the first tip on maintaining a long distance relationship:
#1: Communication is the Ultimate Key!
Communication truly is the key to every healthy relationship. Friends need it, married couples need it, even coworkers need it. But the need for communication is magnified when you can't have a conversation with that person IN PERSON. I have always been a person who wears my emotions on my face. When I'm happy, I smile. When I'm sad, I cry. When I'm angry, my eyebrows scrunch. But you can't see that through text or a telephone. So I've learned how to vocalize my emotions and concerns. No long-distance relationship can last without it. At this point, I have become attune to what emotion corresponds to the sound of my fiance's voice and can react to that. That bond and understanding has brought us to the place we are in today, and I don't know where we'd be without it.
#2. Long distance relationships redefine "commitment"
Being away from your love for long periods of time really f*cks with you. Even if you have no reason to believe they could be cheating on you, you'll imagine a scenario where something like that would happen. You all know the old adage "Out of sight, out of mind"? That goes to an even deeper level under these circumstances. Right now, I live 6 hours away from my hunny. Of course I have thought (on more than one occasion) that something might be going on while I'm up at school. But, in my heart (away from my paranoid mind), I know that I have a man who is committed to me just like I am to him. I couldn't imagine screwing around and I know he could't either. So, another tip for the toolkit is knowing that times will be difficult, but it is the commitment that exists deep down within you that will sustain the truest of love.
#3. Missing them is normal
It is impossible to love someone and expect to be strong all the time. When your love is out of reach, times will come when the loneliness is all consuming. You'll get anxious; your throat will close up; you'll get angry and frustrated. Believe me, that's all normal and I'd be concerned if you never felt that way. It is necessary to feel like you miss that person and let that emotion sink it. That's really a sign that there is something genuine to the relationship. I had a difficult time comprehending that for a long time. Miss Toni Jones is not one for lots of emotion and damn sure ain't one for tears. But I'm not too proud to say that, on nights like Valentine's Day when I have to fall asleep by myself, I graciously let a couple drip-drops fall. For me, that just reinforces how determined I am to get through my responsibilities so I can be with my hunny. So go for it, let that emotion out. Don't try to be strong, because there really is no one you're being strong for.
Hopefully my musings reach someone out there. I know I'm not the only person spending this holiday of love alone out of circumstance. And I also know that a couple of these tips resonate across the spectrum of relationships. Communication, commitment, and the ability to show emotion will strengthen any bond.
So, this one goes out to all my friends and, especially to my sweetie Jenon. Keep doin' ya thing babe. Mami will be home soon.
Feb 3, 2010
Once Upon A Time, I Was a Writer
Hello everyone, and sorry for the delay.
Something came into my email today that I just have to share with you.
Back in May of 2007, I was partying it up with my best friend, CK. It was, by far, one of the most memorable summers of my existence. On one of the rare nights when we weren't "hanging out with friends", we convened around my kitchen counter and decided to write a story. We spend HOURS coming up with characters, a plot, an ending, tons of twists and turns. This was supposed to be out masterpiece. Needless to say, I am not a published author. But, the long missing first 7 pages of the book have turned up! Not to toot my own horn, but it seems that I'm a pretty good writer. Its a story I would read. But I'll leave that up to you. For your literary pleasure, please enjoy the beginning of the first chapter of my not-so-novel (caution, some material not suitable for children):
Dimitrius
By Sylivia Jones
Started: May 3, 2007
-One-
The theatrics were over. All of the beautiful people had filed out of Velise’s main hall. Only Otis the janitor remained to clean up the mess. Anyone who celebrated New Year’s with Gabrielle and the rest of Velise knew it was the event to attend. New Halo boasted some of the most lavish parties both big and small. But it was the atmosphere and the networking that could only be witnessed at 104 Winchester Place that drew crowds every year. Just hours ago, tall models were hobnobbing with the rich and married, discussing things not meant for their wives to hear. Every inch of the enormous space was covered in some kind of silver and black material. Bolts of French linens and silks hung from high windows. The booths along the back wall, usually used for brief business meetings, had been transformed into intimate lounge spaces for who knows what. As in years past, the music had fallen to a soft melody and the boisterous crowd had quieted for Gabrielle’s New Year’s Eve speech. Sitting in one of the back booths still sticky from spilled champagne, she giggled to herself. How rehearsed it had all sounded. She closed her eyes and redirected her mind to 11:55pm when she took the podium. Her husband was at her side, looking dapper as ever. At the age of 37, almost ten years her senior, he was just as radiantly disheveled as the day she’d met him. Before she began to speak, he winked at her, just as he always did before these speeches. With a deep breath, Gabrielle put on the smile she’d trained herself to fake at these occasions and addressed her admiring public.
“New Halo, it has been another wonderful year and we’re off to a great start for the next. On behalf of my husband Dimitrius, my entire company, and myself I would like to offer my deepest thanks to those who have made this dream a reality. I really could not have done it without you all. Velise loves New Halo and New Halo has shown love to Velise!”
“Mrs. Velise? Is everything okay?” There was genuine concern behind Otis’ simple question. Gabrielle realized that she was actually talking out loud, giving her speech all over again. By now, she was much more intoxicated than she had hoped to become. Maybe sitting in the back of an empty party with a now empty bottle of champagne was not such a great idea.
“Yes, Otis. I’m fine. Thanks so much for looking after me. Remind me to give you a raise on Monday,” Gabrielle said as eloquently as she could. She sensed her words slurring and her eyes becoming heavy. “Otis, dear, could you get my husband please. I think I’m ready to go home.”
“Yes ma’am.” At this request, Otis shuffled out of the hall in his dingy work uniform that smelled of bleach and cigarettes. He found Dimitrius chatting up a group of Velise hopefuls who had crashed the party. Though fun and attractive, Dimitri found them a bit snobbish and too immature for the agency. Although he would love to party with the young beauties, he knew they would never get the chance to succeed with Gabby. So he did what he always did while playing his wife’s wingman: smile, be courteous, and revive his accent, now rusty since he had been away from England so long. In the middle of telling a thrice-told joke about a man in a canoe, Dimitri felt the signature tap on his shoulder. The simple drumming of the janitor’s fingers on Dimitri’s shoulder said more than words ever could. No matter what time of day or where Dimitri was in the vicinity, the tap always meant that Gabby needed him right away. Every employee at Velise knew about it. While promising to get in touch with the ladies soon and turning on the heels of his perfectly shined Cole Haan shoes, Dimitri reminisced on how excited he used to get from receiving the tap. That was back when the simple things were what mattered in his relationship with his wife. But all that had changed. There was a strain present, like a fly that you swat at constantly but are never rid of. And this was no fault of his wife’s. Albeit her effortless charm that drove Dimitri to stay with Gabby, it was her quick and venomous tongue that had first attracted him to her.
He still remembered the first day he saw her. It was a dreadfully hot summer in New Halo the year Dimitri decided to study abroad. The apartment he’d rented was not nearly as equipped as the advertisement had made it seem. It was when he saw the fifth drop of sweat roll down the defined muscle of his arms that he took to the streets and found himself buried in a textbook outside a local coffeehouse. If you would have asked him, Dimitri would have said that is was one of his worst days. He was thirty years old and had decided to pursue his Ph.D. in medicine in the States. His hair was especially disheveled from sweating during his sleep and the lack of water pressure in his building had deterred him from showering. The results of last night’s partying made it feel like a celebration was still going on between his temples. He couldn’t focus.
He got up from the small table of the outdoor cafe with the intention of getting another iced coffee to help him finish digesting a chapter on proper bedside manner. But he lost all memory when he saw her. She was so beautiful he blinked again and again to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating from the heat. The Earth’s rotation slowed and everything moved at a snail’s pace. She was crouched down, flowing auburn hair lying gracefully over her shoulders. Her flawless legs led from a high cut corporate-type black pencil skirt into a pair of traffic-stopping red stilettos. Her stark white Oxford shirt, fitted seamlessly across perky breasts made a halo of light form around the woman. Dimitri breathed in her sweet aroma of flowers mixed with sweat and instantly fell in love. I must have her, is all he could think to himself.
The world regained its normal rate and when everything came back into focus, Dimitri realized that all was not as perfect as he thought. His dream girl actually did not look so dreamy. She was hastily throwing an array of items back into an oversized handbag that looked to be stained with hot chocolate, cursing to herself. Dimitri bent down to help her. “Do you need some help, miss? It looks like you’ve dropped an entire drug store onto the floor here,” Dimitri said sweetly. But his attempt at humor was quickly rejected by the words that escaped the mouth of his angel.
“Oh, I should be so pleased as to accept some help from the man who knocked my bag out of my hand. Thanks a lot. You have no idea how much of a rush I’m in. My boss will kill me if I’m late to the office again. Congratulations, mister. You have officially ruined my day,” she snapped. Humiliated but not put off, Dimitri helped her with the rest of her things. While she muttered on about some coffee drinks she had to reorder and the blouse that would need dry cleaning, Dimitri continued to take in this creature. It seemed that her annoyance with him only made him more determined. He picked up a stained piece of paper with drink orders he couldn’t even read and handed them to the woman.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just in such a haze today. I have this huge test tomorrow and I haven’t had any time to study. The ladies of New Halo really know how to wear a man down, right?” Dimitri tried. He had to soften her up. He hadn’t encountered an American woman that didn’t love his accent during his entire visit. But Gabrielle was unfazed.
“Well, if you’re so busy, it would suit you right to just keep on studying. You trying to help me right now is really putting me behind. I have to leave. I have to go get Mitzy’s things. I really need to keep moving.” Gabrielle’s gaze trailed off and her frantic cleaning transformed into a sort of trance. Dimitri was stunned and bemused by what was happening before him. He closed his eyes to blink once more and as he opened then, he saw mascara-stained tears running down the woman’s face. His first instinct was to hold her. He forgave the make up stains that would inevitably be on his shirt and did not concern himself with the scene they were making outside the coffeehouse. Dimitri let the force behind Gabrielle’s frustrated outburst of sadness release itself within his arms. She did not fight his embrace. It all felt natural.
Once she stopped sobbing, he invited her to his apartment to wash up and they made fervent love on the futon Dimitri called his bed. They sipped wine naked in the kitchen while discussing a fantasy world where Gabrielle would be the CEO of a multimillion-dollar talent agency. Gabrielle spoke with the fancy and naivety that made her seem every bit of twenty-one years old. She had never endured the pain that came from dreams getting smashed and hearts being broken. So in his kitchen, sipping cheap wine out of orange tumblers, admiring the rich chocolate colored complexion and voluptuous curves of his newly found princess, Dimitri made a vow within himself to be there every time life knocked Gabrielle backwards. He would be her protector, her shield and her strength. And this is exactly what he said to her six months later when she told him she was pregnant and they got married.
Something came into my email today that I just have to share with you.
Back in May of 2007, I was partying it up with my best friend, CK. It was, by far, one of the most memorable summers of my existence. On one of the rare nights when we weren't "hanging out with friends", we convened around my kitchen counter and decided to write a story. We spend HOURS coming up with characters, a plot, an ending, tons of twists and turns. This was supposed to be out masterpiece. Needless to say, I am not a published author. But, the long missing first 7 pages of the book have turned up! Not to toot my own horn, but it seems that I'm a pretty good writer. Its a story I would read. But I'll leave that up to you. For your literary pleasure, please enjoy the beginning of the first chapter of my not-so-novel (caution, some material not suitable for children):
Dimitrius
By Sylivia Jones
Started: May 3, 2007
-One-
The theatrics were over. All of the beautiful people had filed out of Velise’s main hall. Only Otis the janitor remained to clean up the mess. Anyone who celebrated New Year’s with Gabrielle and the rest of Velise knew it was the event to attend. New Halo boasted some of the most lavish parties both big and small. But it was the atmosphere and the networking that could only be witnessed at 104 Winchester Place that drew crowds every year. Just hours ago, tall models were hobnobbing with the rich and married, discussing things not meant for their wives to hear. Every inch of the enormous space was covered in some kind of silver and black material. Bolts of French linens and silks hung from high windows. The booths along the back wall, usually used for brief business meetings, had been transformed into intimate lounge spaces for who knows what. As in years past, the music had fallen to a soft melody and the boisterous crowd had quieted for Gabrielle’s New Year’s Eve speech. Sitting in one of the back booths still sticky from spilled champagne, she giggled to herself. How rehearsed it had all sounded. She closed her eyes and redirected her mind to 11:55pm when she took the podium. Her husband was at her side, looking dapper as ever. At the age of 37, almost ten years her senior, he was just as radiantly disheveled as the day she’d met him. Before she began to speak, he winked at her, just as he always did before these speeches. With a deep breath, Gabrielle put on the smile she’d trained herself to fake at these occasions and addressed her admiring public.
“New Halo, it has been another wonderful year and we’re off to a great start for the next. On behalf of my husband Dimitrius, my entire company, and myself I would like to offer my deepest thanks to those who have made this dream a reality. I really could not have done it without you all. Velise loves New Halo and New Halo has shown love to Velise!”
“Mrs. Velise? Is everything okay?” There was genuine concern behind Otis’ simple question. Gabrielle realized that she was actually talking out loud, giving her speech all over again. By now, she was much more intoxicated than she had hoped to become. Maybe sitting in the back of an empty party with a now empty bottle of champagne was not such a great idea.
“Yes, Otis. I’m fine. Thanks so much for looking after me. Remind me to give you a raise on Monday,” Gabrielle said as eloquently as she could. She sensed her words slurring and her eyes becoming heavy. “Otis, dear, could you get my husband please. I think I’m ready to go home.”
“Yes ma’am.” At this request, Otis shuffled out of the hall in his dingy work uniform that smelled of bleach and cigarettes. He found Dimitrius chatting up a group of Velise hopefuls who had crashed the party. Though fun and attractive, Dimitri found them a bit snobbish and too immature for the agency. Although he would love to party with the young beauties, he knew they would never get the chance to succeed with Gabby. So he did what he always did while playing his wife’s wingman: smile, be courteous, and revive his accent, now rusty since he had been away from England so long. In the middle of telling a thrice-told joke about a man in a canoe, Dimitri felt the signature tap on his shoulder. The simple drumming of the janitor’s fingers on Dimitri’s shoulder said more than words ever could. No matter what time of day or where Dimitri was in the vicinity, the tap always meant that Gabby needed him right away. Every employee at Velise knew about it. While promising to get in touch with the ladies soon and turning on the heels of his perfectly shined Cole Haan shoes, Dimitri reminisced on how excited he used to get from receiving the tap. That was back when the simple things were what mattered in his relationship with his wife. But all that had changed. There was a strain present, like a fly that you swat at constantly but are never rid of. And this was no fault of his wife’s. Albeit her effortless charm that drove Dimitri to stay with Gabby, it was her quick and venomous tongue that had first attracted him to her.
He still remembered the first day he saw her. It was a dreadfully hot summer in New Halo the year Dimitri decided to study abroad. The apartment he’d rented was not nearly as equipped as the advertisement had made it seem. It was when he saw the fifth drop of sweat roll down the defined muscle of his arms that he took to the streets and found himself buried in a textbook outside a local coffeehouse. If you would have asked him, Dimitri would have said that is was one of his worst days. He was thirty years old and had decided to pursue his Ph.D. in medicine in the States. His hair was especially disheveled from sweating during his sleep and the lack of water pressure in his building had deterred him from showering. The results of last night’s partying made it feel like a celebration was still going on between his temples. He couldn’t focus.
He got up from the small table of the outdoor cafe with the intention of getting another iced coffee to help him finish digesting a chapter on proper bedside manner. But he lost all memory when he saw her. She was so beautiful he blinked again and again to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating from the heat. The Earth’s rotation slowed and everything moved at a snail’s pace. She was crouched down, flowing auburn hair lying gracefully over her shoulders. Her flawless legs led from a high cut corporate-type black pencil skirt into a pair of traffic-stopping red stilettos. Her stark white Oxford shirt, fitted seamlessly across perky breasts made a halo of light form around the woman. Dimitri breathed in her sweet aroma of flowers mixed with sweat and instantly fell in love. I must have her, is all he could think to himself.
The world regained its normal rate and when everything came back into focus, Dimitri realized that all was not as perfect as he thought. His dream girl actually did not look so dreamy. She was hastily throwing an array of items back into an oversized handbag that looked to be stained with hot chocolate, cursing to herself. Dimitri bent down to help her. “Do you need some help, miss? It looks like you’ve dropped an entire drug store onto the floor here,” Dimitri said sweetly. But his attempt at humor was quickly rejected by the words that escaped the mouth of his angel.
“Oh, I should be so pleased as to accept some help from the man who knocked my bag out of my hand. Thanks a lot. You have no idea how much of a rush I’m in. My boss will kill me if I’m late to the office again. Congratulations, mister. You have officially ruined my day,” she snapped. Humiliated but not put off, Dimitri helped her with the rest of her things. While she muttered on about some coffee drinks she had to reorder and the blouse that would need dry cleaning, Dimitri continued to take in this creature. It seemed that her annoyance with him only made him more determined. He picked up a stained piece of paper with drink orders he couldn’t even read and handed them to the woman.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just in such a haze today. I have this huge test tomorrow and I haven’t had any time to study. The ladies of New Halo really know how to wear a man down, right?” Dimitri tried. He had to soften her up. He hadn’t encountered an American woman that didn’t love his accent during his entire visit. But Gabrielle was unfazed.
“Well, if you’re so busy, it would suit you right to just keep on studying. You trying to help me right now is really putting me behind. I have to leave. I have to go get Mitzy’s things. I really need to keep moving.” Gabrielle’s gaze trailed off and her frantic cleaning transformed into a sort of trance. Dimitri was stunned and bemused by what was happening before him. He closed his eyes to blink once more and as he opened then, he saw mascara-stained tears running down the woman’s face. His first instinct was to hold her. He forgave the make up stains that would inevitably be on his shirt and did not concern himself with the scene they were making outside the coffeehouse. Dimitri let the force behind Gabrielle’s frustrated outburst of sadness release itself within his arms. She did not fight his embrace. It all felt natural.
Once she stopped sobbing, he invited her to his apartment to wash up and they made fervent love on the futon Dimitri called his bed. They sipped wine naked in the kitchen while discussing a fantasy world where Gabrielle would be the CEO of a multimillion-dollar talent agency. Gabrielle spoke with the fancy and naivety that made her seem every bit of twenty-one years old. She had never endured the pain that came from dreams getting smashed and hearts being broken. So in his kitchen, sipping cheap wine out of orange tumblers, admiring the rich chocolate colored complexion and voluptuous curves of his newly found princess, Dimitri made a vow within himself to be there every time life knocked Gabrielle backwards. He would be her protector, her shield and her strength. And this is exactly what he said to her six months later when she told him she was pregnant and they got married.
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