Friendly Drama: Lost a Wife, Gained a Roommate

I don’t really care for Keyshia Cole or Lil Kim but for whatever reason whenever I stress about my roommate I have to remind myself sometimes I just have to “Let It Go”

Over the last 10 months or so, my roommate and I have been having “issues” to say the least.  While her change in relationship status (and  seemingly ever-present boyfriend) played a big part in those changes, the greater issues lie in our inability to communicate and respect each other’s feelings.  Bills are paid on time.  The common space is kept clean.  The dogs are loved and cared for.  Music/TV are kept at reasonable volume levels.  For all of the points on paper, the things I would’ve told my residents in college to consider, we are good roommates.  However, on the irrational/emotional level, not so much.

On a purely selfish level, I wish her boyfriend would vacate the picture.  He drives me crazy in an extremely passive way.  But he’s a nice guy who seems to have his shit together and she seems happy with him.  So I wouldn’t really wish that.  Instead for months, I told myself I needed either less of him around or more reasons to not be around myself.  I simply feel uncomfortable with him/them.  But that passive aggressive reaction has only caused what feels like an ulcer and hours of complaining to those around me.  So rather than carry this feeling of discomfort in my own home into our new place (lease to be signed tomorrow), I’ve decided to accept I’ve lost my wife and gained just a roommate.

Our current apartment has a nice set-up for roommates.  The bedrooms are large with massive closets and our own bathrooms.  We only share the living space.  Unfortunately, the common space is very small.  Whenever I come home and they’re on the couch, I feel like I’m nearly in their lap.  (I’d say laps but it really seems like a single unit most of the time…)  Because I feel so uncomfortable, I rarely spend any time with them.  In fact, unless we’re sitting at the dining room table, I’m never around them.  It just feels awkward and not important to anyone but me.  He spends more time on the couches I haven’t paid off yet than I do.  For some reason, I see that as a problem.

When she became serious about this guy, I wanted to like him.  I love my roommate.  If someone is important to her, I hope I can like them and at least be happy around them.  It’s rare that I haven’t liked a close friend’s significant other.  There have been some I wouldn’t necessarily care to be around alone.  But generally, I’ve liked them, been able to laugh with them and carry on small talk.  Unfortunately, I don’t feel that way about my roommate/ex-wife’s boyfriend.  Our conversations are strained, our personalities clash and he’s in our apartment a lot.  But as she so eloquently put it after a big argument, she knew we wouldn’t be friends so she saw no need in even trying to facilitate that.  So I’ve been given the out.  I don’t have to like him.  But he is here quite often.  How do I at least deal with him/them?

First, I had to figure out/decide what my major issue was.  Was he the root of our problems or was it us?  As much as he may annoy me :-), he’s not our issue.  She seemingly turned into a different person upon entering this relationship and I didn’t/haven’t adjusted as quickly.  While there are things she’s done that I feel are just plain wrong (and I recognize that I’ve done such things as well), she’s still a good roommate.  She’s just a shitty wife…to me.  (She seems great with him now.)  When we used to talk to each other about our days, she only talks to him.  When we used to go grocery shopping together and fix meals for both of us, she now cooks with her man every evening for the two of them.  When she would go out with me and our friends, she now spends 99% of her time with him alone.  (I have to give her the 1% when she shocks everyone and actually comes out.)  When I’m really annoyed, I feel she’s turned into the type of woman who lives to work and be with her man but I understand that’s not really the case.  She’s just busy and this new relationship is a priority and an escape.  Either way, there’s nothing inherently wrong with it and more importantly, it’s really none of my business.  If she’s happy, she should do whatever she wants.  She’s apparently happy in this relationship.  I just don’t think I was ready for the swift change in our relationship because of it. (I might, in fact, be a little jealous.)  I just need to focus on the parts that are my business.  Only my life,  my comfort and my relationship with her should be my concerns.

Anyway, most people seem to ignore the rest of the world when they’ve entered the honeymoon stage of a relationship.  When you do it, you’re simply “getting to know this new person, fostering the relationship”.  When you’re single (or co-dependent) and one of your friends does it, they’re “ignoring the people who’ve always been there for them.”  Either way, you emerge and after a few snide remarks, your relationships are intact or they’re gone and weren’t all that strong to begin with.)

So with all of this drama and discomfort, why would I sign another 12 month lease with her (and her boyfriend)?  That’s a very good question.  And the answer could simply be money.  Having quit my 2nd job, my finances wouldn’t allow me to live by myself right now.  My car note will be paid off in a year and even if I don’t get a raise (since the economy still sucks), I will be able to afford to live (comfortably) on my own next year.  Until then, having a roommate is the smartest move I could make.  That’s not to say we won’t want to live together in a year (but it’s a distinct possibility…).  And you know what?  I already have a great roommate.  And a great friend.  I’m just struggling with signing the divorce papers.

There WILL be more issues this year.  I am not naive enough to believe there won’t be.  What I’ve had to do is simply realize we don’t think alike.  There are things I consider to be courtesy that she considers a given.  And there are things she considers normal that would never cross my mind.  If it were me and my mother and/or friend were planning to stay in our small apartment for nearly two weeks, I’d want to ask her rather than inform her (although fully expecting an “of course, no problem”).   And if it were her and I had someone over all of the time, she’d probably never say anything about it as long as that person were respectful of her space.  After knowing each other for 8 years, we both should know better but obviously we don’t always.  There’s always room for growth.

We met in the fall of 2002, randomly selected roommates at Iowa State.  Terrified my first roommate would be a whore, a freak, really annoying or disgusting, I was very pleased to have her.  She was smart, sweet, compassionate and easy to live with.  Sharing one room can be very difficult.  To survive with your sanity, you have no choice but to be very cognizant of your roommate and their mannerisms.  What about you and the world makes them tick?  What habits can and should you avoid to maintain balance?  What can’t you stand?  And how do you communicate that respectfully?  These are the types of things I worked with my residents to figure out as an RA.  It’s time (in fact months past time) that we went back to being first roommates and second friends if it happens to work out that way.  I wouldn’t go as far as a contract but we might just need to talk it all out, as opposed to just parts when we’re angry.

*Plus, the last two months have been really stressful for her.  As a good friend and a decent roommate, I owe her some allowances.  She did afterall deal with my depressed/angry/hurt phase this summer after being rejected and laid off.  When she recovers from this, though, we’re officially starting over.  I value our relationship and really hope another 12 months will not be the death of it.  I’ll do my part to prevent that from happening but also realize I can’t/shouldn’t be the only one feeling this pressure.  I guess we have 12 months to decide if this is such a good idea…

Excited to move out of an apartment and into a great house,

Jo’van

…Although I will say it would be WONDERFUL if they spent more time at his place.  Sometimes it’s nice to pretend/feel like you live alone…

February 28, 2010
Categories: Friendly Drama (The Ones You Choose), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

Eye of the Beholder: “Classy” Tattoos on Women?

Timbaland featuring Nelly Furtado and SoShy “Morning After Dark” (Thinking of famous women with tattoos is just too easy.  SoShy’s a new artist.)

Is there such a thing as a classy tattoo? I would venture to say no.  Sure, there are artsy, artistic, personal, simple, intricate, etc tattoos.  But can you really call one classy, especially on a woman?  I recently had a conversation with a young lady who tried to use “classy” as a term to describe her tattoo.  For whatever reason, that just seemed comical.

Now, I am a proponent of tattoos.  If you have a design or image that means enough to permanently add to your body, I say go for it.  Obviously, some people go too far and end up more tattoo than skin (think circus freaks and Lil Wayne….), but a couple choice things in choice places?  Sure, why not? I doubt I’ll hate either of my tattoos 30 years from now but anything’s possible.  The tiger on my side/stomach might look pretty silly if I have children or just gain a lot of weight there and the musical symbol on my back will no doubt make picking out evening gowns or wedding dresses an interesting process.  But for now, I’m happy they’re a visible (but not too visible) part of me.

Being a generally conservative person, most people are surprised to learn I have any tattoos.  My ears aren’t even pierced (mom thought I had keloids, long story).  My hair, make-up, clothes, shoes, bags, etc are all generally simple, tasteful (I hope) and classy.  Form-fitting, a-line, black and grey, chic, rounded toes and straight cuts.  While I may never grab and hold many people’s attention, I pass through their subconscious as appearing “nice enough.”  (Looking good and looking interesting are not always the same thing or anywhere near it.)

Being somewhat “traditional”, how do I justify two tattoos with the possibility but not plans for more?  I don’t.  Luckily, I don’t feel the need to.  I made decisions, paid someone to carry them out and clenched my teeth through the pain.  My tattoos don’t affect anyone but me and I like them.  But I also realized they may not always be situation-appropriate.  I chose strategic-enough places.  If I want them to show, they can.  If not, it’s pretty easy to cover them up.  Considering covering them up in the location may seem like a cop-out to some and yes, it is.  Much like other aspects of vanity, I may be happy to have them but not willing to also put them on display. Relate them to a chiseled 6-pack….

But the question still remains if a tattoo can be considered classy.  It’s easy to spot the opposite.  Trashy/douchey tattoos are intriguing.  If you find yourself staring and shaking your head at the same time, it’s probably trashy.  Pin-up girls and names of new lovers are pretty trashy.  Anything on the lower back of a woman is considered a tramp stamp.  (However, longer t-shirts and less extreme low-rise jeans are helping to limit the public sightings.)  Thankfully the armbands, especially barbed wire, seem to be falling out of favor.  They were pretty douchey.  Tattoos in very intimate places are also pretty trashy.  But considering (hopefully) only choice people are going to see them, if you’re willing to go through the pain of a needle on skin that sensitive, go for it.  Just hope if doesn’t scab badly….

But classy?  I just don’t see it.  It’s body art.  If gone to extremes, tattoos can make you look bad.  But they’re not really designed to make you look classier.  The things we do to ourselves to look good and feel somewhat like an individual seem to generally follow this line of thought.  Are holes in your ears classy?  No, not really.  The jewelry you hang from those holes may be but the holes themselves, not so much.  Classy haircuts? Eh, not really.  It largely depends on the total package.  But you can definitely go trashy that way, mullets, side rat tails, bad weave…  Classy eyebrows? Probably not.  But the drawn-on Chola look is pretty trashy.

I’ve realized I only consider attitudes and attire/accessories to be classy.  Since tattoos are permanent, in moderation, they’re just part of the total package.  If you’re not classy, you’re tattoos can’t possibly be.

Wondering where she’d put her third tattoo if….

Jo’van

February 21, 2010
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

Shades of Understanding: Finally a Black Disney Princess

A clip of the song “Almost There” from Disney’s “The Princess and the Frog”

Over the Christmas holidays, I took my mother and grandmother to go see Disney’s “The Princess and the Frog”.  Three generations of black women sat in a movie theater in the middle of the day on a Wednesday to somewhat celebrate Disney’s first black Disney princess.

I won’t give the movie away but it IS a Disney movie afterall.  There’s a sweet, smart young woman facing hardships that can only be righted with hard work, magic, music and a man she hates only to eventually love.

Now when the buzz about the movie began  a few months ago, I heard critics praise Disney’s move to finally include African-Americans in their special princess clique and others berate Disney for having the first and only black princess only be a human for 1/4 of the movie.  (You see Tiana turns into a frog when she kisses the cursed prince…)

You know, I get it.  I see both points and why people would be so upset.  What other princess is an animal the vast majority of the movie?  The closest I can think of is Ariel in The Little Mermaid.  But at least she was human-like  from the waist up.  Is this unfair?  Maybe.  Would I prefer to see Tiana as the beautiful human rather than the adorable frog?  Maybe.  But do I (want to) believe Disney was being racist?  No, not really.

Of the nine “Disney Princesses“, four of them were already princesses.  The other five were peasants, poor, lower class beauties who strived for equality and success and became princesses.  Tiana is one of these five.  Would it’ve been nice to avoid some of the stereotypes?  Sure.  Were the accents and assumptions of lower education all that necessary?  Probably not.  But the fact that Tiana is a poor, black, and from New Orleans isn’t such a bad or surprising thing.  Disney (and most entertainment companies) play on stereotypes.  While the heroine was poor and black, her rich, spoiled friend was a little round, blond and always in pink.  The prince was beautiful and immature.  The villain was thin and dark (in fact he looked very much like The Lion King’s Scar).  Her friends were bumbling and sweet, parents supportive and wise.  And most importantly, Tiana’s success was based (mostly) on her determination, intelligence and big heart.

Growing up, my mother made a conscious effort to surround me with dolls who looked like myself.  Why get me a blond Barbie?  Beauty was defined as blond, blue-eyed and pale everywhere outside of my home, even on the television and books within it.  Why force her daughter to stare at and idolize something she’ll never be?  Was giving me all black dolls a little extreme?  Yeah, maybe.  But you know what?  I grew up thinking Christie was just a pretty as Barbie.  Barbie just had better outfits.  Plus, my grandmother and stepmother added a little diversity to my dolls with Barbies (blond), Midges (red head), Teresas (brunette/Hispanic), Skippers (blond little sister) and Kens (blond boyfriend).  And you know, Christie didn’t even need Ken.  She had Steven.  I played with them all.  Barbies, Cabbage Patch dolls, average baby dolls.  If I’d had more/any asian dolls, my trunk would’ve looked like Brangelina’s brood.

Conclusion:  If I were 7 (shoot, maybe even at 25), I’d want a Tiana Barbie.  She was pretty, smart, brave and successful.  And it’s finally nice to have a Disney princess who looks like me.  And you know what else?  After Pocahontas, Tiana’s the 2nd American princess.  Fancy that!

Contemplating asking for my first Barbie in 15 years,

Jo’van

January 24, 2010
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Shades of Understanding (Race Relations), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Quarterlife Crisis: Crisis Resolution(s)

Sting featuring Stevie Wonder “Brand New Day”

The streets have been cleared.  The bottles of cheap champagne and plastic cups disposed of.  Friends are either icing down the painful first day of “I’m going to workout” resolutions or still recovering from the “I don’t remember any of the new photos posted on Facebook” antics of last night.  Yes, it’s New Year’s Day!

Traditionally, only the first second to hour of this day are really important.  We spend a lot of energy getting ready for the Eve.  Parties, new party dresses under heavy winter coats, vague resolutions and sometimes desperate searches for someone ideal (or ideal enough at 11:55) to kiss at midnight.  All (well, at least most) faults of the prior year are forgiven.  It’ll be 2010 soon.  I’ll/You’ll/The world’ll do better beginning January 1st.  Despite specific feelings around New Year’s resolutions, everyone hopes the next year will be a good year, if not, a better one than last year.  And with the economic downturn of ’08 and ’09, I know there are high hopes for a plateau, if not a steady climb out of this mess we’ve created for ourselves.  But finances aside, what are you hoping 2010 will look like?

Of course, we’re all supposed to and I’m sure on some level do hope and/or pray for things like world peace, lower carbon footprints, higher literacy rates, greater human rights, saving the manatees and other such noble goals.  But when you narrow it down to what’s both really important and really feasible in your world, what do you come up with?

In the past, I’ve pledged to do things like get in shape, be on time, call family and friends more often, actually save money (and keep it saved), and whatever other simple things I know I should be doing anyway.  Despite the year I made that particular resolution, I still need to do all of those things.  But I want something new for 2010.  It’d be great to make all of those things real.  But I want something very specific and new for this new year.

In the grand scheme of things, last year was just a little rocky.  But in eyes of a 25-year-old, 2009 was scary and exciting.  God tested and delivered me.  Despite being laid off, depleting my savings, my dog attacking someone, losing my wife, being (somewhat painfully) reminded why I prefer to stay single, and whatever other shitty things that happened, as of 12/31/09, I was in good shape.  I have a new job I (actually) enjoy, friends I’m blessed to be able to call on, family who has no choice but to love me :-), my weekends free for the first time in 3 1/2 years, a prospect of a real relationship, good health, steady income and the ability, the mindset and, hopefully, the heart to only strengthen all of these things.

Ever the pessimist/realist, I resolve to be happy in 2010.  Of course, I won’t be able to completely stop plotting and planning for the worst.  In fact, I hope I never do.  But what I do need to work on is accepting the good just for the sake of it being good.  Good things happen to me.  I need to start enjoying them.

I received some great advice at the airport on my way home for the holidays.  The lady checking IDs at the security checkpoint looked at my smiling ID photo (actually a really good picture) and said, “Smile more often.  It’s a good look.”  Thank you, ma’am.  I fully intend to.

Actually looking forward to what 2010 has in store,

Jo’van

January 1, 2010
Categories: Quarterlife Crisis, Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

No Patience For You: Attack of the Killer Cockapoo

Beware of Dog. No, Seriously Beware.

Look at this face.  Don’t be fooled.  You may see the sweet face of a loving (while “special”) 17 lb cockapoo (a cocker spaniel/toy poodle mix, a designer mutt).  However, this is in fact the face of vicious attack dog named Rodman.  (After Dennis.  I mean I pretty much set this dog up to have issues.  Tsk tsk.)

About a week and a half ago, this sweet-faced puppy bit another resident of our apartment complex.  The circumstances are ridiculous and take too much energy to type out.  But let’s just say that my dog has unique and unresolved behavioral issues (my fault), my roommate wasn’t restraining him as best she could (her fault), and the “victim” reacted to our two dogs in a way that only further agitated them (her fault).  Now, I’m not blaming the victim per se.  Anything my dog does is ultimately my responsibility…  It’s just that when you encounter two obviously agitated dogs (one 80 lbs and the other 17 lbs)  on leashes while their owner/handler is busy picking up poop and the owner asks you to wait a moment while she finishes with the mandatory clean up so that she can better control her dogs, sweeping your agitated chihuahua into your arms and trying to rush by is probably not the best idea.  I’m no dog expert but I’ve heard such reactions teach all of the dogs involved that there is something to fear in their encounter.  And now that she’s actually been bitten, I imagine her belief that her reaction was the best will be strengthened.  Oh well…

Since my roommate was the one with the dogs at the time of the “attack”, I only have her rendition to go by.  But knowing our dogs, I’m sure it happened just as she said.  You see my dog has a “special” reaction to my roommate’s dog’s reaction to new dogs.  Cafe, the 80 lb mutt (from his size and coloring, probably some mix of golden retriever and border collie), loves all (well, most…) dogs.  He’s rarely territorial and is generally excited to meet someone new.  The only problem is his size and sound.  When he’s excited he sounds vicious.  And while he’s fluffy and adorable, he’s still a powerful 80 lb dog.  His harsh bark and intense reaction scare people and some dogs.  As his owner (and surrogate owner), we know he’s not really an aggressive dog.  But it’s sometimes difficult to convince other dog owners of that.  They’re understandably afraid for their safety and the safety of their dogs.

Rodman, my precious angel, has an entirely different and more strange reaction to new dogs.  When by himself, he’s generally indifferent.  Being naturally skittish and mistrusting, he typically avoids all people and dogs he doesn’t know.  (And by doesn’t know, I really mean doesn’t live with.  He doesn’t really like anyone.  So sad.)  However, when he’s with Cafe and another dog enters the equation, he gets jealous and actually bites Cafe.  We’ve never quite understood why and neither of our dog obedience trainers could explain it.  Rodman essentially tells Cafe not to look at another dog…with his teeth.  He’s a jealous little bitch.  And no matter what we do, he’s probably going to bite Cafe.  We’ve managed to calm him down a bit and brace ourselves for the attack but no matter what positive or negative reinforcement we give him, the Rodman-on-Cafe attacks never seem to end.  (And we know he bites hard.  He’s bitten my roommate by accident because she got in the way of him biting his “brother”.  It’s really unfortunate and entirely weird. He literally closes his eyes when he lunges at Cafe.  You can hear his teeth hitting together when he misses.  It’d be funny if his intent wasn’t to inflict pain…)

Anyway, this lady was bitten and rushed off.  Rather than agree to talk to roommate, even to exchange information, she just ran to the office to report the incident…

Now, let me stop here and say something.  While the general tone of this post will probably be that of annoyance, I have no ill will toward this woman or her actions.  Everything she did was justified.  It’s just that my roommate and I think a little differently and probably wouldn’t have reacted exactly the same way.  But then again, you never know.  I’ve never been attached by a vicious cockapoo…

My roommate called to tell me what happened and was leaving for a class when I got home.  We talked briefly but she had to rush off.  It was the first class and she really didn’t want to be late.  No problem.  I’d write a note for the office to explain it was my dog and to offer to provide the office and the “victim” any contact information, vet information and/or shot records.  You see the lady believed Cafe, the larger dog and also my roommate’s dog, was the one who’d bitten her.  While anything’s possible, with his history, we were both pretty confident my dog had been the culprit.  Plus, if the 80 lb dog had bitten her, I’d venture to bet he’d have broken skin.

Low and behold, the “victim” is in the same training program as my roommate.  For the next 6 months, they’ll spend every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday together.  Lovely.  🙂

To make an already unnecessarily verbose story shorter, the “victim” seems to be a genuine (enough) person.  While it’s only been a week, she (says she) only wanted to make sure he was up-to-date on his shots, she wasn’t at any risk for infection, the apartment complex was aware of the incident, and her resulting doctor’s bills were covered.  As the responsible pet owner, I wanted to make sure of all of those things as well (except for maybe the alerting the apartment complex part…).  So I got in touch with her, apologized, provided shot records and wrote her a check for the doctor’s bills (after verification).

At this point, there’s little else I can do.  The victim appears to be uninsured so what might have been a $50 tops visit for a dog bite that didn’t break skin turned into a nearly $200 bill.  Ok, ok.  Luckily, I had the money on hand at the moment.  Covered.  Although I know the apartment complex is aware, since she reported the incident and I left the apology and letter and copies of the vet records she obviously received with the office, they’ve not said anything.  I imagine since they don’t seem to have a policy on the books for this kind of thing, the lady hasn’t said she’s looking to press charges, our pet deposit is paid, the economy is down and our lease is up in 3 months, they might just be looking to sit on this.  (Aside from arguing with me that my dog had been out unleashed with a sweater on.  Now, if I call to admit my dog bit someone and I deny the off leash part, why argue with me?  What seems to be the bigger issue?  Really? Shaking my head…)

Apparently, doctor’s have to report dog bites to animal control.  So my little ball of curly black fur has a case number.  So sad.  Since he’s up to date on his rabies shot and was restrained at the time of the attack, they basically assume it was an outburst and he was defending his territory or owner, not so much viciously attacking.  Animals accused of this type of “attack” are placed on a home quarantine for 10 days.  When the animal control officer came for his first of two visits, my ferocious dog got so nervous he literally just shit in the living room.  Truly fearsome, I tell you.  Anyway, he’s since “passed the test” and has been removed from quarantine.  Oh happy day!

This whole ordeal was a mess but has forced me to reconsider behavioral based training with my dog.  Between constant peeing, shitting and vomiting when strangers enter our apartment, running away from everyone, biting his “brother” when jealous, and now viciously attacking strangers, it might just be time.  Too bad it cost me nearly $200 dollars, a potentially volatile relationship with another apartment complex resident, possible backlash from the complex and now animal control case number.  But despite it all, I love my sweet puppy and will do what I have to.  Plus, it doesn’t hurt that someone’s offered to gift me training classes. 🙂

(In an introductory conversation with the trainer, she’s already suggested puppy prozac.  Oh lord…)

Considering a BEWARE OF DOG sign for her front door,

Jo’van

Since the doctor’s bills took a good chunk of the funds I’d reserved for Christmas presents, please enjoy dogs singing “Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer”

December 27, 2009
Categories: No Patience For You (SIGH), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

Quarterlife Crisis: Old Soul (a.k.a. You’re Only 25?)

Again not all that related to the post but a song for my self-described alter ego. Mary J. Blige “Not Gon’ Cry”

(Plus, it’s just a great song.  While I’m sure it may happen, I hope to never write a post where this song is the best fit…)

In addition to being a late bloomer, I’m also what grandmas would call an old soul.  Despite my age and physical appearance, I’m thought to think (awkward but appropriate phrasing) and behave much like that of a more mature woman.  Jokingly, I’ve described myself as a 42-year-old bitter divorcee with two kids.  While I realize there’s nothing overtly comical about that scenario, I had to find a personality that encapsulated the wise-beyond-her-years, guarded heart, mother to all close to her traits I seem to embody.  So a 42-year-old bitter divorcee with two kids it is.  If you have any other suggestions, please let me know.  I realize I actually used that description on a first date.  While that was completely my fault for not really thinking before I spoke, I might just need a new line.  Luckily, he didn’t seem completely turned off.  Haha.  Oh well, too late now.  Plus, I believe he reads my blog…

If you asked any of my family or early teachers, you’d probably hear stories of a 6-year-old frustrating the mess out of you by being able to hold seemingly intelligent conversations with adults.  “Because I said so” would never have sufficed with me.  And please don’t try to give me some half-ass answer to a question.  If there was even the slightest possibility that I might have heard or, worse, read something to the contrary, you were probably in for a “discussion.”  Now, I was no child genius by any means.  I’ve just been told that I listened more than most kids and was able to put abstract things together faster.  (All the more reason for me not to necessarily want children.  I can’t imagine arguing with a 9-year-old me.  I’d probably want to strangle little me.  For the sake of my sanity and possibly the child’s safety, we’d both need the husband/father to be very compassionate and patient.  But that’s an entirely different post…)

My secondary and even post secondary education days weren’t much different.  While I had a great time with my friends, in the back of my mind, there was a feeling of difference from the larger group.  There was no superiority.  Just a sense of “I don’t get it.”  Now, to be clear, I didn’t feel alienated in any way.  When I was 8, I was 8.  When I was 13, I was 13.  There was just things I questioned more than some and less than others, I guess.  While I had a (potentially) violent temper, I spent less time experimenting and screwing up in high school.  I was more of the reserved kid who sat in the background and just watched everyone else do whatever.  (I hope not in a creepy way…)  I wasn’t above getting wasted and sleeping with 4 good guy friends.  (Ok, maybe I was but that’s not the point.  Those were just bad examples.)  They just didn’t sound like good ideas.  I watched people make their idiotic mistakes and took note NOT to do that.

I wasn’t a complete loser.  I made my bad choices and choices mistakes.  But unlike most people my age, I HAD to find ways to justify them.  I couldn’t just accept youthful indifference and regrettable but not all that impactful dumb choices.  In fact, my descriptions probably made me seem more cold and indifferent but that’s again probably an entirely different post.  Let’s just say that I did less living and probably more time judging.  Sounds pretty boring, huh?

Anyway, this mentality of “I know better.  I’m older than that” has carried with me.  Unless we’re in a social setting where I am surrounded by like-minded, like-aged people, it’s very rare that anyone correctly guess my age.  I’ve been aged by 3-8 years.  While I should be offended that anyone think I could possibly be 33 (I AM after all only 25!), I have to take into account two very important factors.

1.) Put simply: Black don’t Crack.  Black women (and men) are lucky to as a whole age well in comparison to other ethnic groups.  (Running second probably to only Asians.  But that’s debatable.)  I may look 33 now because of the way I dress, act, style my hair, apply my makeup, etc.  BUT there is also a high probability that as long as I take care of myself, I could look 33 when I’m 41.  If that’s the case, I’ll take it now.

And 2.) I simply don’t generally act the way people commonly expect 25-year-olds to act.  Yes, I like to go out, dance, sip on something, pretend I have no responsibilities.  BUT I recognize that I prefer to be the calm, observant one in the background.  I like the security of being (or at least appearing) in control of my words, actions and possibly even my destiny.  (Quite prolific actually.  However, please note I added “appearing” in control.  No one can really be in control.  But I’ll be damned if I don’t try.)

I’m not trying to put a negative label on mid-20-somethings but when people are shocked that I’m only 25, I’ve decided to only take that as a good thing.  Granted, they could just be saying I look old but since I disagree, if that’s what they mean, to hell with them and their opinions.  🙂  I’m only embracing the positive.  The older you get, the closer to 19/undergrad-ish 25 sounds.  I get that.  I am, however, no longer on that level.  I grew up quick (seemingly voluntarily) and have no desire to go back.  Although, every now and again, I’ll give in and have a Halloween Ho moment.  I am afterall only 25.  I’m allowed. Haha.

(I’ve got to do a little something every now again just to remind myself I am still young.  If I don’t, I’m afraid I might begin to regress out of rebellion about the time my physical age catches up with my mental.  I’m terrified I could end up one of those Mariah Carey-like (no offense, I really do love her) moms who dress like their teenage daughters.  That would not be a good look.  I can assure you.   Plus, Ricki Lake is the only one I’d want to give me a makeover and she’s off the air…)

In recent months, potential suitors, new “friends”, older, mature female co-workers, old professors/teachers, current friends, old friends and complete strangers have described me as mature, wise, poised, elegant, regal, favoring Michelle Obama, and “looking like someone people should know. A congresswoman perhaps.”  I sure have come a long way from Steve Urkel and you know what?  I’ll take it!

Sitting up a little straighter at her desk (granted, it’s a stability ball so I have little choice but that’s beside the point),

Jo’van

December 22, 2009
Categories: Quarterlife Crisis, Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

Eye of the Beholder: Late Bloomer

Even legends like Phil Collins have off days.  Phil Collins “Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) Live”

As I’m preparing to head back to Nashville for Christmas, I started reflecting on the type of person I was when I lived there.  I left right after high school and have only returned to visit….

I’m what grandmas would call a bit of a late bloomer.  My youth and young adulthood were spent largely playing catch up with my contemporaries.  Teeth, walking, talking, puberty, a “womanly shape”, whatever the case might have been, I was physically behind.  Having finally caught up, I remember vainly hoping my body would just hurry up.  “Come on.  What’s taking so long?  Grow those, shrink that, fill out here, just do something.”

High school was especially interesting.  I had the personality of a 40-year-old with the body of a 12-year-old boy.  (Maybe not really the boy part but that’s how it feels when you think everyone else looks like a coke bottle and you more closely resemble a ruler.)  That was not exactly a winning combination.  I never really had to worry about the boys falling head over heels.  To be honest, I’m a little thankful for that lack of attention now.  I, at least, never have to deal with losing that level of interest.  I can imagine that change would be even more upsetting than never having it.  But, trust, it sucked then.  The only people who paid any attention were good friends who just seemed to realize I was a female.  Very flattering. 🙂

My mother being the oh-so-sensitive person she can be once told me she’d worried about me getting her families voluptuous tops and my father’s family’s full-figured bottoms.  I may have gotten a bit of the bottom but the top….not so much.  When it became obvious that wasn’t going to be the case, she stopped worrying about fighting the boys off with sticks.  Yes, it’s funny NOW.  But not then.  Thanks, Mom…

In fact, the only curve I seemed to truly develop didn’t really enter the picture until the summer between my sophomore and junior year of college.  I came back that fall semester and my close and close-ish male friends all tried to find ways to tell me or ask where my ass came from. Having no idea what it was they were trying to say to me made the entire experience comical.  I had 4 or 5 normally outspoken guys trying to not offend me but overly curious what I’d been eating that summer.  I’ll never forget that.  Haha.

Anyway, with this delayed overall development, I never quite learned how to take compliments and general interest from the opposite sex based solely on my appearance.  Past middle school and junior high, I never thought of myself as truly ugly.  I could recognize I had traits that could be worked with.  But I never truly felt pretty.  Just somewhere in-between.  Now, I’m not saying that I consider myself to be gorgeous now.  I just recognize that things could be a lot worse for me.  And most importantly, I’m more comfortable with myself.

We always hear it.  People become more comfortable with what God’s given them as they mature.  Sure, there are things we’re never going to like about ourselves.  But we also come to accept that’s just the way things are going to be.  Some people are so stuck on perfection that they find expensive, potentially dangerous ways to “fix” things about themselves.  To be honest, I’m not knocking plastic surgery.  I agree that some people go way overboard but one or two procedures?  Why not?  If it’s that important to you and you are content with the “improvements”, go for it.  Who am I to define your happiness?  However, for myself, I’m simply too lazy to go under the knife to look good.  I’d rather take that money and travel to a far away, exotic land.  Who cares if I’m not beautiful as long as the scenery in the background of my photos is?

I’ve been told and recognize that this new found sense of contentment/comfort is attractive.  Unless you’re pretty enough to excuse all faults, few people are interested in a completely insecure person.  Let me be pleasantly average physically with confidence, a brain and a decent sense of humor.  I’ll be happier with myself.  Anyone that’s willing to take on the challenge that is getting to know me, come on.  I welcome you.  Trust me, a bleeding, guarded heart is an unusual combination.  I like to be different. 🙂

Back in my awkward days, I assumed anyone that showed any interest in me was completely full of shit.  Of course, no one would realistically be interested in me.  Unfortunately, at that age, the young men are just as insecure and not willing to be persistent.  Rejection hurts both ways.  However, as I’ve grown up and been forced to realize I’m not all that bad, I haven’t seemed to outgrow the initial assumption people have an agenda.  Either it’s a test or a trick.  Either way, I’m not interested.  Just let me be the friend.  I like that role and I’m comfortable in it.  Tell me I’m smart.  Tell me I’m funny.  Tell me I have a big heart.  But as soon as you tell me I’m pretty, I will shut you down.  Yes, I realize I have some issues to work on.  I’m just airing them in this post.  Hopefully, one of these days, I’ll be able to write that I took a compliment with no arguments, blushing or downcast eyes.  I’ve got a lot of work to do.  But then again I’ve already come a long way…

Thankful she’s at least outgrown Urkelina,

Jo’van

December 17, 2009
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

Eye of the Beholder: Vanity of Sight

Jimmy Nash “I Can See Clearly Now”

Ahh, to see.  For those who’ve never needed assistance and/or tools to do so clearly, seeing just seems a given.  You open your eyes and the world presents itself to you.  However, if you’ve ever opened your eyes only to see the world out of focus, I feel your pain.  Now, I recognize that having whatever bad eye sight I have is better than having none at all but for the purposes of complaining, I am only comparing those in need of contacts and/or glasses to those who’ve only considered these options to cosmetically change the color of their eyes or to “look smarter.”

I’ve had glasses since age 6.  Yep, I was a scrawny, thumb-sucking, know-it-all first grader with glasses.  (Very little has changed since then sadly…)  At that age, glasses didn’t mean much else than something you had to be careful with because mom would get really upset when you broke them.  Of course, you didn’t understand why.  You just went back to the doctor and got more.  (Ah, the ignorance/innocence of youth.)  I don’t believe I ever really liked my glasses.  I just don’t think they began to bother me until middle school/junior high.

As hormones started to kick in and the pretty girls were identified (for at least the next 10 years), being scrawny and boyish was bad enough.  But I had to wear these thick plastic glasses too?!  They were just setting me up for social failure.  Beauties never wear glasses.  You don’t see singers, actresses or models with glasses unless they’re playing the part of the nerdy and the less attractive.  Glasses were like having braces, being flat-chested and having short hair.  You just didn’t want that.  Glasses did not equal attractive.

When my mother told me I’d have to get braces in 8th grade, I almost cried.  Well, could I at least get contacts before?  The last thing I wanted to happen was to look like a nerdy boy with crooked teeth that needed to be fixed.  Now, of course, I was far from the only one going through this helplessly awkward phase.  But at age 12/13, other people’s awkward phases don’t make you feel better.  Most people don’t seem to adopt the mean “at least I look better than them” mentality until they’re further into their teenage/early 20 years.  Thinking I was just being ridiculous, my mother didn’t want to deal with costs and issues associated with contacts so I ended up not getting them until I started working at Sears my senior year of high school and could afford them myself.

To not avoid the cliché, contacts opened my eyes to a whole new world.  Nothing looked better with contacts than it did with glasses except for my reflection.  There was a sense of beauty (or at least less ugliness) and freedom.  In my clouded, naive teenage brain, glasses made me unattractive.  Contacts at least helped to level the playing field.  I could now really play with makeup, eyeshadows, eyeliners, mascaras.  I could dress up my face.  They didn’t do anything for the acne or other flaws but at least the glasses were finally gone.  And with the braces having been removed the year before, I felt I was starting to look more like a young lady and less like a slightly more feminine Steve Urkel.  (No, seriously.  Urkelina was my nickname on the junior high volleyball team.  At the time, no one could think of Myrtle – the name of Steve’s southern belle cousin who came to visit a few times.)

Fast forward 8 years and not much has changed.  Aside from family and my roommate, it’s rare that anyone see me in my glasses.  (In fact, if you see me in glasses, it generally signals it was a rough morning and will probably not be a very good day so stay of my way as much as possible.  If it’s glasses AND my hair is tied back/wrapped up, stay clear.  I’m probably either sick or exhausted.)  Contacts and the insecurities tied to years of glasses are still very much a part of my identity.  I still believe I look better in contacts and usually have at least a bit of eye makeup on.  Luckily, I don’t really wear the bases, foundations, creams, powders and the like.  Genetics and the dermatologist have helped me maintain relatively clear, consistent skin.  But those eyes are a different story.

While I like to fancy myself rather intelligent, I don’t want to look like a nerd, just maybe sound like one at times.  Over the last two years, I’ve started to reconsider my opinion of glasses and me in them.  As I’m trying to force myself to wear these $400 pair of glasses more often than between my bed and the bathroom where my contacts are in the morning and the bathroom to my bed at night, I still find myself preferring the image of a glasses-less me.  Ideally, I’d love to get lasik surgery.  But last year my optometrist quoted me around $6,000 for the procedure.  Are my eyes and vanity worth six grand?  Yes.  I just don’t have the available funds.  Trust, as soon as I do, I’ll happily toss out my glasses, glasses cases, lens cleaning clothes, lens cleaning spray, contacts, contact cases and cleaning solution bottles, and stare blindly into the light.  Only to open them later seeing the world the way it’s meant to be seen – clearly.  I simply can’t imagine waking up in the morning and being able to see.  It must feel like a miracle.  (And I don’t care how overly dramatic that might sound. 🙂 )

Realizing it’s time to schedule her annual eye exam,

Jo’van

December 13, 2009
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Quarterlife Crisis: Young Professional

Timbaland featuring Justin Timberlake and Nelly Furtado “Give It to Me”

At 25 1/2, 3 1/2 years out of school, in the business arena, I am considered a young professional.  As a young professional, I am expected to dress and play the part.  But few people expect me to really know what I’m talking about.  It’s an interesting conundrum.  I’m being paid (entry-level pay, but pay nonetheless) to be a relative expert BUT most people consider me to be a younger/newer version simply regurgitating what someone more seasoned has already said.  And while it’s true that we all learn from the more experienced, that experience is relative to the topic and may be no more than a few months of experience.  In many cases, I may in fact be the expert but my familiarity with pop culture, ability to stay up all night and wrinkle-less face all largely discount anything I have to say.

I realize there’s little to nothing I can do about the perception.  My only options are to play the clueless-under-30 part OR calmly, consistently make my point in a non-defensive way.  The LAST way I want to be perceived is as a temper tantrum throwing 20-something.

But on the flip-side, how do you deal with the insecurities of agreeing sometimes you don’t know what you’re talking about or being asked?  No matter how much you think you know, someone’s always going to know more.  And even worse, someone else is going to know you don’t know.  What do you do then?  You have a handful of options but what I’ve found to work best is simply admitting your ignorance AND asking questions.  Both actions are very important.  Without the questions, you just appear dumb and indifferent.  By doing both, you appear interested.  As much as some people enjoy embarrassing you, more people enjoy telling/teaching you something, acting the expert.

A few suggestions for encouraging your career experts:

1.) Don’t assume to know anything you really don’t.  Deer in the headlights is a dead giveaway you’re trying too hard.  And sometimes signals it may not even be worth explaining to you.

2.) Don’t be afraid to ask questions.  No one’s an expert on everything.  Don’t assume you have to be.  Nobody likes a no-it-all.  Most conversations are teaching lessons.  Be open to being taught.

3.) Ask a few questions you already know the answer to.  After they’ve answered, you can explain it in a different way, making them feel they’ve taught you something AND signaling you’re intelligent enough to view things in different ways.  (This strategy also works well with professors you may be having a hard time with.)

4.) If the conversation is stalling, ask an open-ended “state” or “direction” of the industry question.  Most people love to share their opinions on what’s wrong and how THEY’D fix it.

5.) Follow-up with something intelligent.  Collect a business card (or at least  an email address) and follow-up with next steps, relevant articles, something.  Prove you were paying attention and worth staying in touch with.

Most importantly

6.) Do your job.  Whatever it is, you were hired for a reason.  Someone had faith in your abilities.  Don’t prove them wrong.  Because you have to remember the quality of the people they hire reflects directly on them.

Separately there’s nothing wrong with being young or a professional.  Together, however, they should just mean you’re good but the sky’s your limit.  I’ve got 45 years or so until retirement (if I’m lucky).  I can only hope I have a lot to learn.

Listening to Justin Timberlake while packing my suitcase,

Jo’van

December 10, 2009
Categories: Office Appropriate (Work Life), Quarterlife Crisis, Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Office Appropriate: Corporate Crushes

Again not completely applicable but I couldn’t resist.  (OK, not applicable at all but it came to mind.)  Belle & Sebastian “Step Into My Office Baby”

It’s a well-known fact that even the mildly talented musicians, artists and dancers make woman swoon.  As much as I’d like to count myself out of this group, I can’t.  John Mayer, Robin Thicke, John Legend, Rob Thomas, Brian McKnight, Usher and the like may be (mildly) talented but they’re not necessarily all that attractive.  (I’ve chosen to go with off the top of my head, relatively current singers/musicians because that’s my world but feel free to fill in the blanks for yourself.)  I wouldn’t go so far as to say any of these men are “ugly” per se.  BUT they all go from “good” to “good Lord” in the eyes of most female fans when they perform (or you listen to their CD, since few artists are actually good live nowadays.  Back in my day…)  Most men, that are not artists, dancers or musicians, find this change annoying.  How can they possibly compete?

The simple answer is: You probably can’t.  But if the situation presents itself, it’s about being passionate about something other people understand.  Put simply “Passion is attractive.”  When a man’s genuinely excited about something he’s created or figured out (as long as it’s not COMPLETELY out of your realm of understanding/agreement), I usually find his description intriguing.  You may not be able to follow every detail, you follow his emotion.  The intrigue may have something to do with hoping he’d one day be that passionate about you but that would be deeply subconscious if at all.  I think it’s more that passion is just attractive.

Musicians, artists, dancers – generally anyone in the creative arts – have it pretty easy.  I mean they still have to be creative and seen as good but their passion is (usually) connected to their craft.  And their crafts are available for mass consumption.  People have deep emotional (and sometimes physical) reactions to visual and auditory stimuli.  Expressive art is only truly expressive once the viewer has connected it to something they understand.  Romantic music has little impact until the listener begins to daydream and/or reminisce.  Dancers are interesting because the audience begins to wish their movements were as powerful and expressive.  It all comes down to feeling something and in that way, the creative arts have it easy.

So what’s the common man to do?  To be perfectly honest, I don’t know.  I have no idea what to tell you.  Yes, I realize I just set this whole comparison up with no resolution but what can I say?  This blog is just a place to dump thoughts.  🙂  I wanted to give a little background to what I’ve coined “Corporate Crushes.”

Over the last few years (since leaving college really), I’ve had the pleasure/obligation of being tasked with relationship building and consulting.  These are vague terms, I understand.  And I intend to keep them that way.  The important thing to note is that part of my job has been to listen and determine how my organization can help.  This required level of listening often lends itself to being exposed to other people’s passions.

(For whatever reason, the majority of the people I encounter are men.  I’m sure a corporate crush could translate to a woman.  But in my (straight) case, I imagine it would be more of a desired mentor than a crush per se.  Anyway….)

As I listen to these men pitch/explain/complain to me, I realize little corporate crushes.  I’m in no way actually attracted to them.  It’s not at all a physical thing.  On the contrary, it’s a simple desire to help them realize their passions, a desire to share their temporary passionate outburst.  Their sincerity is usually heartwarming.  It’s almost like kids with a new toy and business plan.  While I’m sure none of the 35+, C-suite executives would agree with my categorization, it’s just my initial reaction.  I can’t help it.

Corporate crushes aren’t anything to be ashamed of.  I’m not falling head over heels or offering unrealistic expectations.  And the passion has to be backed up by reality.  But if everything falls into place, I walk away thinking “How can I help?  I want to help.”  If they were musicians, I’d walk away in search of the merch table.

Does anyone else experience these temporary “Corporate Crushes”?

Jo’van

December 6, 2009
Categories: Office Appropriate (Work Life), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

« Previous Page — Previous page Next page — Next Page »
  • December 2025
    S M T W T F S
     123456
    78910111213
    14151617181920
    21222324252627
    28293031  

  • Archives

  • Follow The Truth: According to Jo'van on WordPress.com

  • Enter your email address to follow Jo'van and receive her updates.