Coming out of my (nervous) shell

Every-time I have to apply for a job, I get a bad case of nerves. Just the thought that I am sending someone my Resume, that "someone" whom I have never met before. I always wonder what do Mr. Someone or Ms. Someone think of my resume, do they see me as part of their company? Is my portfolio Minimalist enough? Is it too busy? Am I missing a colour in the portfolio? All kinds of questions.

One of my first interview after I resigned from my favorite job, I broke down in tears. It was the question that was asked, "Why did you leave your former job?" I did not know what to say. I began to have flashbacks of being pushed on the table and hitting the computer, almost damaging it, I remember getting angry facing my abuser, using my arm to defend myself, I pushed him away, only to be shoved violently on the floor, hitting my shoulder, back of my head and twisting my ankle and landing on my knees... then came the response of the boss on the telephone, "Get out of my office! Go home!" Then my accuser shouted, "Ha, Ha when (the boss) comes back, you will be fired and not me!" This had only happened about a week or two before my interview and everything was still fresh in my mind. My right arm was still swollen, and I wore a pair of newly bought flat shoes to facilitate my swollen twisted ankle, my body wracked with pain and yet I was willing to keep my appointment and get that job...alas, the question was asked, "Why did you leave your former job?" and the hurt came back. My swollen fingers started to tremble, and my knees started to twitch in slight pain, since I took to pain tablets to get through the interview as professional as possible. Two pairs of emotionless eyes stared at me. I looked at them in silence, "I, uh...it was my time to go...I needed to be challenged creatively, and unfortunately, (my former company) has changed their priorities and their goals. Studying in NYC, has helped me to set standards and to discard petty things..." with that I felt the throbbing pain of my right arm, and tears rolled down my eyes. I did not realize the extent of the hurt, I wanted to run out of the interview and call it a day. I felt stupid and sat on the chair, sobbing. "Uh oh, I did not expect this." The female interviewer sprung up in action, searching for a napkin. Maybe, I should have canceled the interview, allowed myself to heal. However, I have been working since I was seventeen, setting goals for myself, dreaming of the day when I can get a nice new car and a bigger place with two bedrooms, my sister and I accomplishing great things before the age of 30, but that came crashing down when I was ousted from my former place of work like a dog, lashed and kicked, sent to the hospital. I knew then, that I will not get the job, I was too honest about myself.

I went to other interviews, and never cried again. When I did not receive the call, "Congratulations Lisa Marie, you got the job," after each interview, I told myself next time I will do better. So everyday, I learn something new. I am in Woodworking class, (I have been sketching my ideas for real cutting edge chair designs), I am a total Google-Sketchup fan (I am on it everyday), and I cook and bake cake, plus keep the floor tiles clean and white. I still dream but it has changed now, I want to be a fantastic Graphic Designer at a really cool Ad Firm, with a flair for Architecture, I also want to study Architecture in Germany, and visit The Golden Cabbage building of the Vienna Secession. For now, I just want to be a Graphic Designer. So I keep sending out those Resumes, with conviction and determination to leave the past behind me, and to, "Keep Moving Forward."

Love in a different Color

Interracial couples will always be around. They are like the air that we breathe, although, some people would rather breathe poisonous gases than face the fact, that, whether they like it or not IR couples are here to stay.

What is the difference between a black person and a white person...apart from the obvious visual differences, I believe that it is ...nothing. However, what are the cultural differences among a group of people from India, China, Africa, and Europe? Plenty. Is it possible that people are mixing up race with culture?

If we were to take four people of different races from New York City in America and place them in a room with four different races from Paris, France. The Americans speak english, and the French people speak french. Now, we divide all the people into four groups, we are going to pair one American with one French, and put them in a different room, alone. So imagine, please, one Chinese-American with one Chinese-French in a room alone, one Indian-American with one Indian-French in another room, and so on. So there will be four rooms with two people in each room. They must then communicate with each other about their food preparation. Would the Indian-American and the Indian-French prepare their curry the same way? Would an African-American and an African-French prepare vegetables the same way? This may be good way to find out.

I love culture, the saris from India, and the Kente cloth and wood carvings from Africa, Japanese architecture and their way of life, and the resilience of the people of China, seeking a better life for themselves.

Kinda went off course there, but if I can say it out loud to interracial couples, I will say to do it for love and nothing else.

Art Submission...


Do you have a piece of Art that you want to submit? Or an Idea in sketches, or a cake design, or even furniture? Post it to my email at caffelattemagazine@gmail.com with your name, email address and a description of your creation/project and on Friday It will be posted on CafféLatté Magazine Blog.

In my sketch above, I had an idea for a home that appears to have no visable base. I was working on the theory that I may need a strong platform of some sort. This platform may be built out of metal or concrete. I am still working on it.

For a couple of months

I will be gone, but I will be posting at least one to two times a week to facilitate a new passion: Woodworking. I know nothing about it, but it is a challenge. From Monday, I will be meeting my teacher and 9 other classmates, one knows AutoCAD, one worked in the construction industry and another, is already doing woodwork, so I have got my work cutout for me. I am not worried, for I have a goal, and I am gearing towards it.

See you next week. Oh, in addition there will be no recipes for a while, but if you tried the other recipes, send me a note, because they are not found in any cookbook, I made them up myself.

See Ya!

Facebook and Yellow Eyes

I found the FB has its good, but also its bad. Before I could not do without it, now it has become an annoyance. Mabye it was all those semi-reality games, or my friends, or something. Sometimes I wonder what is the purpose of FB. Since I have reduced my exposure on it I have been going to bed early, something that was hard to accomplish before.

So far, I am getting closer to my most major accomplishment yet.

Recipe for the Week!


Banoffe

2 cap-full vanilla essence
2 cups brewed coffee (cooled)
2 bananas (soft)
sprinkle of cinnamon powder
sprinkle of freshly grated nutmeg
1 tbsp cream liqueur
2 tbsp powdered milk
1 dash bitters
Sugar to taste
2 cups of water

Put all ingredients in a blender. Blend until smooth. Add ice for immediate consumption, otherwise leave to cool in the refrigerator.

serves 3

Rosewood...

When we lived in Port of Spain, my mother was living in New York. On one visit, she brought a very interesting movie with her, it was called Rosewood. It sounded beautiful, like a vibrant village with lots of beautiful roses. I also thought it was about some sappy romance story. I only saw Rosewood about twice in my lifetime, but I am sure it was more, because I always remembered how I felt after watching it. The first time I watched it, I burst into tears and confusion, uncontrollable fits of sobs. I could not understand how humans could do this to one another and go to bed at nights. At this time I was in my early teens. Racism, was shown at its worst. The movie portrayed what humans are capable of with no gumption, no morals, unchained hate and poisoned anger. My dreams were punctuated with clips from the movie, and yet, was it real?

So, I researched it. And yes it was indeed true. In all its gory reality, though with a little "Hollywood imagination". Soon, I became angry. I became angry at people who could have stopped the Rosewood massacre from happening, I became angry at people who were part of the mob and gave birth to children, I became angry at...white people. For the first time in my life, I understood the term 'different', and 'us' and them. I asked my mother why were we not created the same, so that people would not hate each other, and she explained to me, "If all the flowers in the world were one colour, would you enjoy looking at them?" I imagined the world covered in red Hibiscus plants, ew. "No," I replied, "It would be boring."

Growing up, I began to understand, "preference", like, look at how long my friend's hair was or how pretty she is, while I stood next to this "person", hoping for the same recognition and acceptance, only that they are fair, and I... am "normal", like the admirers. In addition, I began to hate the fact that, I too, began to think with "fair-skinned glasses", hoping to get vitiligo, so that I could pass, and be admired by others. Caribbean writer Merle Hodge, wrote a short story called 'Millicent'. It is about a light-skinned girl in a primary (elementary) school in the Caribbean, who became very popular, so much so, she used the "divide and conquer" tactic in the classroom, destroying old friendships. The class teacher looked at her one class and said, "Pride goeth before a fall." Eventually, Millicent learned her lesson. I loved that story to no end, and I read it like a prayer, now I can't even remember the book I read it from. If you know, send me a note!

Now, I accept people as they are. It took me a while to get here, to look beyond the skin, and hair, but to know and understand the secret person of the heart. To know the person whose red blood is pumping, whose bile is green, and who goes to the toilet and passes gas just like me. The person who just wants to communicate ideas, history, art, etc. Just loving people for 'who' they are and not 'what' they are. In essence, I have matured in my thinking.

If I could rate Rosewood as a movie, I'll give it 4 out of 5 stars. This was actor, Ving Rhames' best movie yet. and really it should be rated PG-14 for graphic scenes, seriously.