Shades of Understanding: New Millenium, Same White Cleopatra

Imagine 1963; the politics, the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War.  Fast forward 35 years;

  • Barack, a man of obvious African descent, is realistically running for the presidency
  • Halle and Denzel have Oscars in leading roles (Morgan finally got his for supporting)
  • Oprah is arguably the most powerful woman in America (Condi coming in a close second)
  • Tyra has managed to create and host two surprisingly successful television programs (my she’s come a long way from Victoria’s Secret and Sports Illustrated)
  • Beyonce is EVERYWHERE
  • Cool is defined by Rihanna, Kanye and Usher
  • Two of the “whitest “sports in history are dominated by Tiger, Venus and Serena.
  • My 40 year-old boss is greeting me with a daily frat boyish “Yo”, a fist pound and discussing how T.I. is true gangsta rap
  • There is a line of clothing actually called Apple Bottoms (It still amazes and mystifies me when people suffering from the dreaded Noassatall (sound it out) have baggy apples for pockets)
  • Queen Latifah, rapper-turned-actress-turned-singer-turned-actress, is the only celebrity in history (at least in the US) to have her own full line of branded cosmetics under a major cosmetic distributor (Go Cover Girl!! The Queen’s Collection in the light purple packaging.)
  • And I use all of their first or stage names because everyone knows EXACTLY who I’m talking about.

African-Americans have come a long way in 35 years.  (Permanently pigmented brothers and sisters of lighter shades, keep your head up.  There is hope for us all!)

However, the one iconic role identified with the entire continent of Africa has been once again given to an actress lacking of pigment (at least in her skin).  The Welsh-beauty Catherine Zeta-Jones is said to have been cast to play the iconic Egyptian-beauty Cleopatra in an upcoming film. Now, I LOVE Catherine.  I think she is truly one of the most gorgeous, glamorous and classy actresses of her time.  We forgave her horrible accent in Zorro and delighted in her acrobatic skills in Entrapment.  We laughed at the worst movie ever, America’s Sweethearts, and cheered her (and her wig) on in Chicago.  But Cleopatra: The Musical starring Catherine Zeta-Jones is just ridiculous!

Are you telling me that there is not one pigmented beauty (who can sing, dance and act) they could possibly cast as Cleopatra?  Not one?  And I don’t just mean throw a black girl in some gold jewelry and cat-eye makeup.  Beyonce would be a mistake.  No Cleopatra should EVER be blond.  And while I’m sure Angela Bassett could get her groove back jungle fever-style with Hugh Jackman’s Marc Antony, the features would all be wrong.  But what about Halle Berry, Rosario Dawson or Thandie Newton?

Do you think they considered any of these actresses for the iconic (and/or Oscar winning) roles of June Cleaver Carter, Queen Elizabeth, Helen of Troy, Joan of Arc or Jackie O.?  “Well, of course not, Jo’van.”  Weak cough, squirm in chair, clasp hands and lean forward for a more intimate delivery.  “It’s not that these actresses could not have done amazing jobs.  We just wanted a true historical representation.”  So why the hell the double-standard for this character?  Everyone knows she was the ruler of Egypt (which happens to be in northern Africa for all casting directors who seem to overlook that fact).

I understand why an undiscovered (more physically appropriate) actress for a film of this magnitude would not be chosen.  But at least pretend like you tried.  Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra was wrong in 1963 but it was at least understood for the time.  We’ve come so far since then.  Can’t people of African descent finally claim this one historic role on the big screen?  The most beautiful (or desirable, depending on how you see it) woman in history was brown, the shade variant is debatable but brown nonetheless.  Can we finally claim her as our own and see an image closer to a “true historical representation”?  Catherine Zeta-Jones with a spray tan and liquid eyeliner is not enough in 2008!  If that’s the case, let’s do a bio-pic on Jackie O. starring Halle Berry!

Annoyed,

Jo’van

(Note: I said that Cleopatra is the most beautiful woman in history, because being the Latin geek that I am, I consider Helen of Troy the most beautiful woman in mythology.  And don’t get me started on the horrible casting for her role in Troy.  Brad Pitt or not, there was absolutely no reason for Achilles to be prettier than her.)

October 29, 2008
Categories: No Patience For You (SIGH), Shades of Understanding (Race Relations), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

No Patience For You: Creeper Quote “I Bathe My Wife Everyday”

Recently, I went to coffee with two young ladies I’ll be working with for at least the next year.  The important thing to note is that I’d never met these ladies before.  While we were politely chatting amongst ourselves, this average looking man approaches our table and proceeds to tell me that I was beautiful and looked exactly like his wife.  I responded with a polite smile and an awkward “thanks.” Big mistake.  For some reason, I didn’t get the “creeper” vibe immediately.  For the next several minutes, he proceeded to creep us out by telling me:

1.) How much he loves his wife who looks exactly like me

2.) The reason my hair is not longer is because I don’t take care of it

3.) After flexing and asking each of us to touch his bicep, his entire body is as hard as a rock because of the navy; arms, abs, thighs

4.) How much he loves his wife who is my twin

5.) He could come to my house if I ever had car problems (Need a business card for a creepy local mechanic?  I have his.)

6.) How he bathes, massages from head-to-toe and brushes the ultra-long hair of his Spanish/African-American wife daily (But it’s okay because she does the same for him)

7.) If he weren’t married, he’d ask me to call him for drinks

And then walked away….

While my new associates were (understandably) asking me if/how/why, I simply sat there completely speechless.  Where the hell did this guy come from?  And why me?  If he’s married, his poor wife.  If not, that has to be the worst pick-up line ever “You look exactly like my wife.”  And why would he flex for three perfect strangers to show what 12 years in the navy can do for you?  How do your thighs enter ANY conversation?  Did I look inviting to this kind of ridiculousness?  And why in the world would you ever tell someone you bathe your wife everyday?

I seem to have a knack for attracting the crazies, the true creepers.  They must recognize my unrelenting curiosity.  Don’t approach me with ridiculousness.  As much as I’ll want to tell you off (and my actions and words will echo that sentiment), I find myself almost equally intrigued.  Just how crazy are you?  Can you top the last guy?  And what do you think will work on/for/with me?

That is until you cross the line and truly prove how creepy you can be.  Often, however, reaching that point (as immediate as it may be) means it’s too late to get out of a situation gracefully.  Overt rudeness or a friend’s rescue are your only hopes.  Just hope you have friends who want to spare you the pain rather than sit in a corner and laugh at it.

Confused (and still slightly uncomfortable),

Jo’van

October 26, 2008
Categories: No Patience For You (SIGH), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Eye of the Beholder: Shot Glass Therapy

Ok Ok.  It’s not as bad as it could sound.  It’s not the type of therapy you get from the contents of a shot glass but from the messages printed on them.  Like this one…

A Cutie with a Bootie Needs a Hottie with a Body

A Cutie with a Bootie Needs a Hottie with a Body

This particular shot glass makes me laugh because it’s so ridiculous and so true.  Only I’d substitute the “Needs” for a “Wants”.  I don’t need a man with a nice body but it sure would be nice.  🙂  But I wonder, if I’m looking for someone with a six-pack and beautiful arms, does that mean I should at least have a flat stomach and nice legs?  (Long does not equal nice, only more to shave.)

Is it unfair to want a level of attractiveness you yourself don’t live up to?  I’m average, normal, whatever. But I want to be with someone gorgeous.  Yes, that might lead to jealously or possessiveness but I’d be basking in his glory in the meantime.  I’d like to be THAT couple you see on the sidewalk when you wonder (almost out loud) “Why is he with her?”

This level of expectation is unrealistic, I understand that but somehow it creeps into my mind whenever a prospect approaches.  If I don’t know you well enough to consider you a friend, I can only evaluate you on two levels: appearance and conversation skills.  However, I’m  most often approached when shot glasses are an appropriate part of the decor.  Conversation skills are then affected by alcohol, people and noise and I’m left solely with appearance.

Is it so wrong to want a potential boyfriend to not have bigger boobs that I do?  I’m on the petite side.  Any competition could be detrimental to my self-esteem. 😦

How about a guy who’s body is pretty solid?  I’d like to be the soft one in the relationship.

And I just have a weakness for sculpted arms.  It must have something to do with a feeling of security.  Flex for me, baby. 🙂

I’ve got some expectations to re-evaluate.  Until then, I’ll just admire from afar and appreciate all of the hard work some of the guys at my gym are putting in.  Can you work out enough for the both of us? 

Dreaming of Morris Chestnut abs and Dean Cain arms,

Jo’van

October 22, 2008
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

Romantic Cynic: A Face for the Fantasy

A couple of weeks ago, I met a boy (as Chivis would say).  He was everything I needed to know at the moment: cute, amazing body, fun, seemingly genuine and COMPLETELY not for me (not in order of importance, just in order of what I noticed 🙂 ).  Nothing could really be expected from this encounter other than the immediate excitement.  And as the excitement passed, I accepted that it had to b/c we were not in the same place in our lives, figuratively or literally.  However, that realization did not affect the nearly immediate daydreaming involving him.

You see while I am (and will probably always be) a cynic and extremely girly or cutsy things (or movies) make me physically ill, I am also a hopeless romantic.  A single flower for no reason and self-made CDs, notes in the pocket of my jacket and a sweet text message in the middle of the afternoon, asking about my friends and seeming interested, opening my car door, taking my dog out in the rain b/c I just got a relaxer, things like that regrettably make me (for lack of a better word) swoon.  Don’t tell me I’m beautiful when I’ve never felt more unattractive or take care of me when I’m sick if you don’t want me to want to remember it.

However, being a person who avoids any possibilities of relationships past friendship (don’t ask me why, I haven’t dug that deep into my subconscious yet), I don’t often encounter people I would allow to make me swoon.  Most often if they do, they fell into my lap, therefore catching me off guard, as did this boy.

Being a romantic cynic has its perks in that you can judge and appreciate anyone and their gestures as you like.  However, it generally just serves to foster a wonderful imagination.  Just b/c you don’t do relationships doesn’t mean you can’t know (and imagine) what someone would have to do to absolutely render you weak in the knees.  If there’s not enough personal material to pull from, you simply create it.  (The beauty of a daydream)  This provides those fleeting crushes (or infatuations depending on the situation) with yet another purpose: to serve as the face of your current fantasy.  You know this person would (probably) never do the things you daydream about but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t.  The imaginary man of your dreams temporarily has a distinct name and face (or more).

To say/write this out loud is a little strange but I promised to speak only the truth.  So for now my imaginary prince charming has a face (and abs) I can describe and care to remember. 

Personally judging but forever honest,

Jo’van

October 19, 2008
Categories: Romantic Cynic (Love And Lookalikes), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

Eye of the Beholder: Health vs. Vanity

I’m on a fresh gym kick right now.  I’ve had this gym membership for about two years and every few months, something prompts me to re-engage w/ the elliptical machine.  (Usually when my pants are uncomfortable.)  I’ve often said that I go to the gym b/c I like my current wardrobe and want to compliment my closet rather than start over with a larger size.  However, I wonder just how true that is.  Would I be as bothered by baggy booty from losing 23 lbs as I seem to be about the virgin-ing muffin top from gaining those 23 (seeming all in one location) in a year? 

You see the problem is that I was not properly equipt for this particular issue.  From age 4 to about 15, I was an absolute STICK.  Looking back at pictures, it was kind of sick.  No matter what I ate and how little I did, I was thin.  I graduated highschool at 5’9 and under 130 lbs.  Somewhere in college, I filled out and became “normal.”  I can handle normal.  I’ve been told it looks good on me.  I’ll take it.  (It’s very convenient that my shoe and pant sizes are now the same.)

Every time I’ve been back in the gym for a few weeks and see a slight bit of progress, I’m really tempted to just stop there.  I mean I’m just trying to tone up, not lose any weight.  (Well, that is until I really gained more than 5 lbs….)

So, I have bad knees and shoulders.  And I refuse to watch what I eat any more than the short trip it takes from my plate to my mouth.  Yes, diabetes, heart disease, and obesity run in my family.  Yes, salt and butter are my favorite ingredients for any meal.  Yes, I know that genetics are not in my favor.  BUT somehow that collection of facts is not enough to get me into the gym on a regular basis.  But give me a muffin top sighting or mid-30s looking thighs 10 years too early and you’ll soon see me huffing and puffing, breaking a sweat on the leg press with my iPod in its armband and my red Nalgene water bottle at Gold’s Gym.  (Correction: I don’t sweat, I glisten.  And by glisten, I mean sweat like a pig 5 minutes into any workout.  It’s really unattractive but I digress…)

From apples to pears, I see the shape of my future in my family.  And one day I’ll be comfortable enough with myself and/or my body to not immediately react to muffin top.  For right now though, I’ll submit to vanity and work to remain a salted, buttery piece of corn on the cob.  (Shout out to all Iowa babies!!!)

Air kiss (b/c I’m sweaty and stink),

Jo’van

October 15, 2008
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Office Appropriate: Managing Up

I have to say “Manage Up” is definently the most interesting term I’ve encountered since entering the professional world.  Sure, “Circleback“, “Ping” and”Head Down” are formiddable contenders but nothing is quite as puzzling or seemingly faulted as “Manage Up.”  “Moving Forward” we’ll refer to it as simply MU. 

Very early in my career, my boss introduced me to the term when we discussed my not-so-smooth relationship with a senior colleague (please, note that I said senior colleague and not boss).  I was basically told that if I wanted to successfully (and sanely) work with this colleague, I would have to learn how to MU.   At first, the term sounded confusing, then almost empowering.  I was being tasked with a sense or level of managerial responsibility.  Only after I “Noodled Over‘ the term further did it become apparant that my “Due Diligence” in the successful excercise of this managerial responsibility would only serve to directly and positively impact the perception of my senior colleague’s managerial abilities, i.e. I realized it’s true meaning.  (Jo’van Definition: Managing Up = Learning how anyone above me works, thinks and performs and catering my delivery and workload to their quirks, no matter how ridiculous or egotistical.)  Suddenly, empowering transformed into enabling.  (I will NOT be an enabler!)

Granted, MU will be a part of everyone’s day-to-day life in corporate America.  But that doesn’t mean you have to like it. 🙂

I’d love for someone to explain to me why it is my responsibility to manage someone who’s being paid tens of thousands of dollars more than I am to manage me (amongst other things).  I can’t seem to “Wrap My Head Around” the concept and all of its implications.  Yes, they are senior to me because of their experience and years worked (even if the latter is more imporant in the hiring process).  But why would they be promoted to a position that puts people “under” them when they’re not mature enough to manage effectively AND respectfully?  OK, so maybe not everyone’s situation is that serious but the point still stands.

It is frustrating to manage a manager (and not get paid extra for it).  And yes, I do understand that there will be a transition period for a new manager.  BUT that transition should not be at the expense of your team dynamics.  Your junior colleagues are not automatically transformed into secretaries or interns.  (No disrespect, but those are simply not my titles.)  Your transition period should be about “Drillng Down” to learn to properly manage, not properly managing to piss me off on a daily basis.  (OK, off the rant…)

I’ve realized that in my case, learning to MU means:

1) Doing MY job to the best of my abilities (justifying my paycheck)

2.) Not doing YOUR job (unless you plan to share the proceeds)

3.) Staying calm as I tell you how/why I won’t be doing your job (listing my daily projects and objectives)

4.) Keeping my emails and IMs politcally correct and office appropriate (in case of an audit)

All the while 5.) Cracking jokes and smiling politely as I silently curse you out with my eyes for shortening my name (The fact that my name has common derivatives does not give you the automatic right to call me any varierty of those derivatives.  I simply don’t like it.  K?)

Hint: You’re probably safe to call people whatever they sign their internal emails.

Respectfully,

Jo’van

October 12, 2008
Categories: Office Appropriate (Work Life), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

So, I’m Here! Love Me. Hate Me. Read Me. :-)

So I’ve tried to figure out what I want to write about.  You know, discern a purpose for this blog, MY blog.  It’s taken several months and still I’m at a loss so I’ve given up.  This blog will be my very open diary.  Better yet my childish high-school slam book.  Eloquent rants, musings and answered questions.  Ask me anything.  If I don’t know the answer, I’ll make it up and try to make it sound clever. 

I foresee relationships and music dominating post topics.  Quite possibly because music is the longest relationship I’ve been able to maintain.  We’re on a break right now but I expect a sexy make-up session real soon….

Emily, if you’re reading this, the Chipmunk is back.  Too bad this font doesn’t translate into chunky crayola markers. 

–Jo’van

October 1, 2008
Categories: Background on Jo'van . Tags: , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

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