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Archive for the tag “home”

Obsessed With Obsessions of the Moment

Stuart Miles/freedigitalphotos.net

As an official grown woman, besides clothes, shoes and handbags, I have another occasional obsession, especially if I’m expecting visitors to my home.

My home.

All of a sudden I care about the art on my walls, copious amounts of Pine Sol, and feel the need to visit Ikea, or Homegoods and every place else to get my pad like my version of a Dwell or Apartment Therapy photo shoot.

I believe your home is a good and pretty accurate representation of who you are and where you are at the moment (financially and emotionally). If your house is in order and remains that way, usually you are too. Disarray, then something is up. There’s a reason why you don’t care.

Or you could just have OCD.

My first apartment in the south was bare bones, kind of decorated, but had an air of, “I won’t be staying long.” I used my home to sleep mostly, and then go to work. My second bedroom was filled with moving boxes, or empty ones to be filled once I did move. I had free hand me down furniture that I didn’t care about giving away when I left. I wanted to travel light.

Now that my older gent is stopping by for dinner this week, I have already purchased a table runner (I did not care about it until I saw it in the store), and even cloth napkins.

I want napkin rings. I want cloth napkins to remind myself that regular days can be a celebration that you are on this side of the ground. You’re home is your castle. Why do you have to break out the good stuff on holidays or for guests? Celebrate. Even if it’s just you by yourself. Sometimes I break out my dark liquor glasses, to just drink a glass of water. It makes me feel better.

What kills me is my dad insists on using paper goods, not to “dirty up a dish.” Drink out of glasses, eat breakfast off of plate plates! I have a dishwasher. Life and eating shouldn’t be mindless acts to get over with. Both will all be over soon enough.

I’ve decided to grab certain moments and savor them.

Hence, I prepare and set my scenes ahead of time.

I’ve been this way forever. When friends came to visit me in college, I couldn’t cook, but wanted to cook for them to show my appreciation. I decided to make the infamous “not roast.”

For my vacations, I plan outfits.

Before folks say I’m doing all of this shopping or redecorating for my date, I will say he was the catalyst.

He awoke the sleeping giant that is my obsession with being obsessed with how I want things for certain moments.

Case in point.

When I was going on a romantic picnic with my ex, I had to have a basket and a special roll up blanket (which I use for the beach and all outdoor events).  I always envision how my outings go. How I wear my hair and what outfits.

For my 30th birthday, I envisioned a sequined blazer and I found a short-waisted sequined cardi. I wasn’t going to rest until I found what I wanted to complete the vision. I was determined to have certain foods and snacks and drinks for my guests, and I stayed up all night and got up early to make it happen with the help of my friends.

When I went alone to Myrtle Beach, I wanted an umbrella to lay under, I had to have my blanket. I had to have my insulated travel cooler. Things had to be just so.

So for this upcoming dinner, I was planning my menu, and cleaning my home. I realized there were some photos I wanted to frame and hang.

I love my little place. Over the past six years, I’ve transformed it from a blank canvas with a beat up Wal-Mart futon, into something that makes me feel pretty comfy, and even proud when it’s clean.

One day my aunt stopped by and described it as a “bachelorette pad” after I cleaned and cleaned and it hurt my feelings. I may have been a bit too sensitive. But I’m a writer with an arty soul. Maybe she didn’t understand my neat stacks of magazines, or overflowing bookcase or mismatched art. It wasn’t conventional, but it was lived in.

People of her generation and prior believed in pristine showplace living rooms no one was allowed to sit in. I have a one bedroom apartment, when I have guests, basically every square foot is game for gathering and socializing.

So yes, I’ll be looking for photo frames and napkin rings during my lunch break. I kinda want chargers for my plates too…

Killing Me Softly: “The Wiz” Gets Me Everytime

Over the years, “The Wiz” has become one of my favorite movies ever.

There are a million reasons to love it: Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, amazing music and dancing and very cool, yet sophisticated references to black American urban culture.

But the thing that resonates with me most is just Dorothy’s transformation. She was a quiet wallflower, doting on her aunt, uncle and doggie and pretending to be satisfied with her super ordinary life. So much so, the elementary school teacher isn’t even considering a job offer to teach at a high school outside of her Harlem neighborhood.

Eventually, in order to find her way back home from the very strange world of Oz, she’s forced to pull it together to slay evil witches, meet the mighty OZ and help her new friends she’s made a long the way become better, eh, lions, tin men and scarecrows.

I love to watch this movie over the holidays, but I’ve found when I’m going through a tough time or I know I’m in need of a serious change in my life and I end up watching this movie, I’m crying like a baby when Diana starts singing “Home.” Then I need someone to pick me up off of the floor by the end of Lena Horne’s song, “Believe in yourself.”

I feel like Lena’s Glenda the Good Witch was literally willing me to get it together, when she throws in that “whoo” and a “yeah” in there. Tell me you won’t want to change the world after watching this!!!

For some reason, those parts of the movie in particular, hit me like a ton of bricks. There have been times in my life I have been stuck in situations that I didn’t like, but I stayed out of fear of trying and failing even more miserably.

All throughout the movie, over and over, each character had to stand up, be brave and just try something new and step out of their comfort zone. It’s almost like the times I decide to pop that DVD in– on some subconscious level– is when I need to hear those messages the most.

I’m reminded to reconnect to the people who love me so they can recharge me and I need to gather up my confidence again to do something– anything bigger than what I’m doing at the moment. Happy holidays, yall!

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