Young, Dumb and full of…
Do you remember when you were young, dumb and full off… ridiculous ideas of how the world actually worked?
There are those times as an adult when you look back and wonder, “what was I thinking?” With maturity, it’s easy to look back and laugh at our ignorance, all the while smiling at our innocence. It’s funny how the things that kept us up at night as a teenager, now, literally seems like child’s play. How could we have been so naive?
Most of us, if given the opportunity, would love to send a note back in time to our younger selves and give them a few words of wisdom, advice or in some cases, warnings about what to do or not do. And then there are those of us who have a mother who thinks why put off for tomorrow what you can do today…
Like most teenagers, my senior year of high school was bittersweet and filled with lasting memories. This was a time when I was filled with mixed emotions. On one had, I was so excited about the prospects of the future but at the same time quite fearful of what was to come. All of my friends were fanning out to various colleges across the country. Would we remain as close as we are today or would we grow apart? But more importantly, how would Paul and I fair with this new chapter in our lives?
Paul was my high school sweetheart. To me he was that guy. You know the type… the neighborhood guy who you’ve grown up with and known most of your life. He’s your friend but somehow you realize, as you get older, you really have a crush on him. He’s an athlete but not a jock, does well in school but is by no means a nerd. He’s the guy that your parents like and seem to trust since they never question your whereabouts when you’re out with him. He was the date that didn’t expect to give up a quickie at the local hot-pillow motel in the hours after prom. Instead he’s the guy that takes you for a walk along the south street seaport and buys you a late-night dessert before having your home in time for curfew. Yep, Paul was one of the good ones.
Although I had known Paul for years, we only began dating during our senior year in high school. But once we got together, no one could tell us we wouldn’t be together for the rest of our lives… and far be it from us to let a little thing like 4 years of college to get in the way of our plans to be together. We had it all planned out. He would soon be off to Morgan State University (a co-ed, historically Black university just outside of Baltimore, Maryland). And I was going to attend a small, all-girls, liberal arts college just 45 minutes away in Frederick, Maryland. We wanted to be “realistic” about how often we would be able to see each other given our course load, of course. But since Paul had a car and only a short distance separated us, we didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t see each other EVERY weekend. And since either of us had classes on the weekend, so this would be time we could spend together. Of course there may be the occasion here and there where there is a school activity or things with our friends would come up… but we didn’t expect those times to come along too often. We were in love and spending time together was all that mattered.
I’ll never forget the day that Wanda and I were packing the family car as I was preparing to head off to college. My semester started a full week before Paul’s so he promised to come over to see me off. And in typical Paul fashion, he was on time and helpful. While we both knew this day would come, we still somehow found it hard not to cry, make promises and hold each other endlessly, never wanting to let go. With a watchful eye, Wanda was witness to our young love. I get the sense that she knew of our longing, gleamed the secret pact we had made to one another and felt it her duty to impart a little wisdom upon us.
If you think I am going to regale you with a description of the kind, gentle words of wisdom that Wanda imparted on two star-struck puppy lovers… you clearly haven’t read any of my earlier blogs. Helloooo people… this is Wanda we’re talking about. You know… the “fuck up not down” woman. (Yes. Her.) Wanda handled this situation as only she could…
As Paul and I were embracing, crying and swearing our eternal love to each other, Wanda politely said ” sit down, I want to talk to you two”. Knowing my mother as I do, I was almost scared as to where this conversation was going and I gave Wanda one of my “please don’t embarrass me” looks. Undeterred and ignoring my glare, Wanda continued, “I know you guys love each other but I think you need to be a bit more realistic about what your lives will be like when you get to college.” She turned to Paul and said, “you are a good-looking young man and when you get to college, the girls are going to be all over you… and you all over them. But while I don’t doubt that you love my daughter and I wish the best for you guys, I do know that most high school relationships don’t last once they get to college.” And then turning to the two of us, she continued, “these college years will be some of the best years of your life. It is a time to live, explore and to be free to enjoy all that college life has to offer.” Free? Free? Argghhh… here we go again. Did my mother just advise me, in front of my high school sweetheart to be free? Yes, but more importantly she told HIM in front of ME that HE should be free. Ugh.
At that moment, there were no words that could express my anger for Wanda. She had done some crazy things in the past but this… this to me was by far the most insane thing she had ever done. While I may have been used to Wanda’s antics and her unfiltered advise, until that moment Paul had never actually met Wanda… I had done a pretty good job of limiting his interactions to “Mom”. (Awww Sybil, a little warning of the sudden change in personality would have been useful here.)
I was almost afraid to look at Paul to see his reaction. But before I could even raise my eyes to look at him, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in to hug him. He held me tight, all the while telling me how much he loved me and that he would never do the things my mother said. He whispered in my ear “just ignore her. We will prove her wrong.”
Well, I wish I could say she was wrong… she wasn’t. We were barely at school a month before our relationship began to wane. Those “weekly” visits we planned never happened and eventually Paul confessed that he DID want to be free to date other people and fully explore college life. And truthfully, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. While I may have been attending an all-girls school, the number of boys who crash a party given at an all-girls school usually out numbers the number of girls on campus.
When I look back on that day and remember how naive I was, I don’t fault Wanda for her blunt advise. Instead I laugh. I laugh at how young and dumb we were. I laugh at what I would imagine were Wanda’s private thoughts as she listened to our grand plans and what she may have said to herself that ultimately lead to her speaking out.
In the end, I will give Wanda credit for this… she never said, “I told you”.
Know when to shut the f*#% up
“Know when to shut the fuck up” is probably the best advice Wanda ever gave me.
While most girls spend the time between their engagement and the day they say “I do” fretting over the details of their perfect day, I was otherwise consumed. As a child of divorced parents, grandparents and great grandparents (oh and did I mention that most of my uncles are on their 2nd marriages? but I digress…), I instead spent that time trying not to freak out. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my fiancé. But in the face of hard evidence of multiple marriages that were also based on love, but didn’t work… it was hard not to freak out as the calendar counted down to the day where I was supposed to be completely “sure” and “ready”.
So in an effort to quell my fears, I instead tried to look for understanding. Maybe there was some magic formula or piece of advice that would make the difference in my situation. Maybe those who were already married or even divorced could offer me, the newbie, a bit of advice that could prevent or ward-off failure. So in the months leading up to my wedding, I asked everyone… and I mean everyone… for his or her advice. I asked strangers seated next to me on airplanes, family, friends, my dentist… everyone. I wanted to know what advice would they give to a young couple just starting out. (I wish I had the forethought to blog some of the advice I received as it would have made an interesting read, but hind sight is always 20/20.)
The results of my unscientific survey were interesting. Some said standard lines like “never go to bed angry”. While others offered more off beat advice like “be sure to take separate vacations”. But the advice that stuck with me the most was from Wanda. Hers was simple and complex all at the same time… “know when to shut the fuck up”.
Hmmm… I have to admit that I didn’t immediately understand what that meant. I was a bit thrown by the word “know”. KNOW when to… How does one actually know? What I did know was that she wasn’t asking me to play the little woman because that’s out of character for both of us. So finally I had to ask… what did she mean? ”Know when enough is enough… know when the health of your relationship is more important than winning a silly argument… know when to choose your battles and when its okay to acquiesce and let him win… but most importantly, KNOW when to simply say nothing.”
Huh… okayyyy… so essentially what I realized was that knowing was not going to be the hard part. The hardest part was going to be taking this advice beyond theory and actually putting it into practice. Now I just needed to find the right opportunity to test my new advice… little did I know, that opportunity was just around the corner.
One night he and I were having dinner with Wanda and the professor, when we started going back and forth about something. (To be honest, I don’t remember the details of the event. Clearly it wasn’t anything of any consequence.) But what I do remember was Wanda’s direction to me. Just as I was about to open my mouth to say something again, she kicked me under the table. And as I turned to her, she discretely tapped her lips with her finger, motioning me to remain silent. In that moment I felt like the baby cub learning the ways of the wild from her mother cub… and I obediently followed her instructions and let it drop. And just like that, the argument was not only over but my first attempt at using her advice was successful.
This is usually the point in a story where the author tells you how their life has been changed or transformed in some way. I unfortunately will not do that here. What I will say is that, while I have proved to myself time and time again that this advice is sound and true, I don’t use it as often as I should. But I’m working on it.
Yes, I admit it… I’m flawed… don’t judge me… LMAO! I am still a “work-in-progress”!
I’m late. I’m late. I’m late for a very important date
The mother/daughter relationship is unique and complicated, but very much universal. No matter our ethnic background, nationality or religion, there are fundamental dysfunctions that exist between mothers and daughters. Think about it… we all watch movies like Postcards from the Edge or The Joy Luck Club and immediately relate to these stories. Most women have that one thing that their mother does that they are determined NOT to do… I am no different.
If there is one thing, above all else, that drives me crazy about Wanda it would be her incessant lateness. I don’t know what it is that makes her unable to be on time for ANYTHING, but it literally drives me insane. I was so convinced she was going to be late for my wedding that I made her spend the night at my hotel to get dressed with me in the morning. I didn’t want to run the risk that she would be late and I would have to delay the ceremony so she didn’t miss it.
When I really think about it, there was this one time when she was late that will go down in the record books…
I don’t get back home to New York as often as I would like, but thankfully, every now and then my job affords me the opportunity to go to the city for business trips. And, if I’m lucky, I get a few hours free to see family and friends. It was on one such trip that I found myself with an entire day free to hang out… and I decided to spend it with Wanda. The weather in New York was wonderful and I wanted to check out some of the summer street festivals that were happening in and around the city. Wanda lives a stones throw from the city, just on the other side of the George Washington Bridge in New Jersey. She was in the middle of doing some renovations on her house and was excited to share them with me… so we set a plan for the day. I would take the ferry over first thing in the morning, she would scoop me up, take me to the house to peek at the renovations and within the hour we would be on the ferry heading back to the city.
Knowing my Wanda as I do, having a “plan” didn’t actually mean that things would go according to schedule. Through the years, I’ve learned to go into one of two modes: “prepare” or “prevent”. That day I chose “prevent”. A conversation with Wanda in “prevent” mode goes something like this: “pls don’t be late… I am NOT going to wait around all day for you… are you sure you’ll be on time… pls be on time… are you running behind schedule? Maybe we should push back by an hour so you won’t be late”. Wanda assured me that she was not only going to be on time but that she was going to get up early the next morning to ensure that she was on time… I believe she said something like “yes, I will be on time… you watch, I am going to surprise you”. Ooooo a challenge! Could she do it? Would Wanda actually be on time? Early perhaps?
The next morning, much to my surprise, Wanda called me bright and early. She was up, knocking out some last minute chores and would be well ahead of schedule. Great! This was already starting out as a very good, RARE, day and so far things were on schedule. Three hours later, I called Wanda to check that she was still running on time. She was. So I departed the hotel and headed to the pier to catch the 11am ferry, which was scheduled to arrive in NJ at 11:15am. I knew better than to believe that Wanda would actually be waiting at the ferry when I arrived, so I thought it prudent to call her again from the ferry to let her know I was on my way. Again she said she was. Since she lived less than 15 mins from the pier, even if she left soon after my call, she would still arrive at the pier no later than 11:30am.
An hour and a half later, Wanda still hadn’t arrived. Do you know how frustrating it is to sit at the pier and continue to watch boats come and go… passengers being greeted by waiting loved ones, only to be the last person standing on an empty pier… for SIX consecutive ferry arrivals? Do you think she called? Nope. Do you think she answered the phone when I called? Nope. Was I worried that something had actually happened? Nope. Finally, the professor answered their home phone and told me she was on her way… (which is code for “she’s still here but has instructed me to tell you she’s already left the house”). Ugh, oh Wanda.
Finally, just as I was contemplating getting back on the ferry and continuing with the rest of my day, Wanda arrives. All smiles and very apologetic, Wanda pulls up with a quick honk and motions me to get in the car. Nope. Not this time. There was another ferry arriving in 3 mins and I was determined to get on it. I tried my best to remain mad at her and to stand firm in my resolve to leave. But Sybil must have known that although “Wanda” screwed up, “Mom” was needed to bail her out of this situation.
Ever since I was a little kid I’ve found it hard to stay mad at her. She would climb into bed with me and hug and kiss me until we were both laughing, forcing me to forgive all. And true to form, “Mom” hopped out of the car and came to me. She adorned me with hugs and kisses all while I tried hard not to laugh or cave in. But alas, she gets me every time. Once again Mom comes to the rescue to save Wanda’s butt. And although this event still remains at the top of my Wanda Frustration List, the rest of the day was lovely and went according to plan… of course it did, now that I was in control of the schedule. Oh, Wanda.
I wish I could say that this was (or will be) the last time Wanda was late. But it wasn’t… nor is it not going to be. One of our typical arguments when she’s late goes something like this, I yell, “you’re going to be late for your own funeral”. To which she responds, “no I won’t because you’ll make sure I’m there on time!” And you know what? She’s right! Maybe not in life, but definitely in death… Wanda WILL be on time! LOL
Tailgating?? Are you serious?
For Christmas, Wanda and “the professor” came to spend the holiday with the hubby and me. It was the professor’s first time in LA and Wanda’s first visit in 10 years, so we wanted to make the trip special for them. That week we played the role of the ultimate tour guide, taking them from Hollywood to the beach and everything in between. Each day we planned a full itinerary, which included things like taking them out to dinner, shopping on Rodeo Drive, touring the Hollywood Bowl and spending the day getting pampered at the spa.
One day, while driving along the famed Sunset Boulevard (aka the Sunset Strip), Wanda asked us to stop at a store so she could grab a cigar. (Yes, Wanda, not the professor smokes cigars… Shhh, I do too! *wink*). The first place we came across was some random liquor store steps away from LA’s cultural icon – the Chateau Marmont. Wanda and the professor hop out of the car and head into the store. After a few moments they return with a bag or two and ask us to pop the trunk – which we do.
Three, four, five minutes go by and they still haven’t gotten back in the car. From our vantage point in the car it was hard to see what they were doing since the trunk was open and they were standing directly behind the car. Another moment or two passes and we realize that Wanda has lit up a cigar and was taking a smoke break… okay, no worries. But we later realized that they weren’t just smoking but they had actually bought a fifth of liquor and were sipping it out of paper cups IN THE PARKING LOT! Really?!? Okay, let me get this straight… these two are standing outside of my parked car, with the trunk open, smoking a cigar, having a red cup “sip”, in the parking lot of a liquor store, in the middle of the Sunset Strip?!? WOW! Who are these people? Who does that?
While I tried my best to be cool about it, I wasn’t… I was mortified. Who tailgates on the Sunset Strip? We weren’t at some football game where… uh, hello… people… ahem, “tailgate”. This is Los Angeles… no one “tailgates”… on Sunset Blvd no less? Isn’t it illegal to drink alcohol out of an open container in public? But the worst part wasn’t the embarrassment of watching my parents play out a real-life parody of the Beverly Hill Billies… what really got me was the look on the hubby’s face and that disapproving shake of his head. Lost for words, all he could mutter was “wow… are they serious right now?”
Yes, honey they are. Welcome to my world… welcome to the family. 
Sidebar: To fully understand Wanda, you also have to know her husband… “the professor”. The professor is also an interesting character. He’s one of those intellectual types who tells corny jokes and then laughs harder than everyone else. He’s an amazing chef and one of the kindest people I have ever met. Bottom line, the Professor’s a bit corky but he’s a sweetheart.
The professor and Wanda have been married for about 10 years and could not be more suited for each other. I’m not sure what it is or why it works, but it does. The longer they are married, the more I become convinced that they are cut from the same cloth. The professor’s a good guy and I am happy he’s married to my mother.
I think I’ll call it “Wanda’s Hot Box”
Given her personality, its no surprise that Wanda has always had an entrepreneurial spirit. And although she has always maintained a job in Corporate America, this hasn’t stopped Wanda from finding time to flex her independent muscles by starting a number of her own businesses. In the beginning, like many others, Wanda went to various seminars and either came away having purchased a trunk load of products to sell (Amway) or the desire to peddle services (Pre-paid Legal).
But lest these ready-made businesses be out-done by some of her own creative ventures like…
- Lotus Vision – a video production company
- American Jazz – an idea for a 24-hour Jazz cable network. A concept she shared with the, then, powers-at-be at BET. Imagine her surprise when unbeknownst to her they would later launched BET Jazz… offering no shared credit for the concept.
- DanSit – a corporate gifts/premiums provider… a company who’s name was conceived by blending my name with the name of the daughter of her business partner.
- UBe – a marketing company
Over time, I got used to Wanda coming up with her next big idea on her pursuit for the recipe to independent success. But nothing could quite prepare me for what she was going to come up with next!
Allow me to set the stage… It’s my birthday. My parents, along with my fiancé and a few close friends, were taking me out to dinner at a new Latin hot spot in the city. We had to wait a few minutes for our table so we got a few drinks at the bar. By the time we were seated, those of us who were drinking may have been a bit tipsy off of the lovely mojitos the bartender was serving. So far… this had the making of a really nice evening.
Like most groups who are intimately acquainted, the conversation was easy and relaxed. We laughed, shared stories and talked of the future… and that’s when it happened. Wanda decided to share with the group a novel idea she had for her next business venture… apparently an idea she had given a lot of thought to. She said that she noticed how much women loved to gather at the house of a friend to share stories, food and drinks. And whether it was a book club, a Tupperware party or even a lingerie party, women loved to talk and were usually open to intimate discussion when in the safety of a relaxed environment. So it was with this in mind that Wanda had her “ah ha” moment. She announced that she was going to throw SEX TOY parties! She went on to say, “I think I’ll call it Wanda’s Hot Box”.
Excuse me?!?! I’m sorry?!?! Did my mother… my MOTHER… just tell my friends, loud enough for the neighboring table to hear, that she was starting a sex toy business called WANDA’S HOT BOX?! Really? Ugh!
Completely mortified and wanting to crawl under the table, I tried to change the conversation and shot Wanda that knowing look usually reserved for a mother to an unruly child. But just when I thought the matter had come to a close, my friends, reveling in my embarrassment and the pure delight of being treated to dining with Wanda in rare form, continued to egg her on asking her to describe the kinds of products she would sell… and even suggesting a few she had missed!
I soon realized that the more I protested, the longer my suffering would last, as everyone at the table now found pleasure in learning more about Wanda’s new business. Thankfully the conversation only lasted another moment or two as Wanda had pity on the fact that this was supposed to be my birthday dinner and she saw no sense in ruining the evening for me. And with that, she whispered to the table “we’ll talk more about this later”.
Thinking the matter dead, I thought I had heard the last of Wanda’s Hot Box for the evening and hoped to never hear of it again. But alas, when you have old friends who’ve known you for many years, they lovvvve to bring up old shit! LOL And like any good friend, they have never let me live down the events of this night. So this one’s for you DH! Now the world is in on our little joke!
Let the man take the lead
This piece of advice often confused me… mostly because it was followed with percentages like “let the man have 60% and you take 40%”. Forty percent? Who was this woman? Was Sybil playing a trick on me? Did she create a new personality and decided to skip the introductions?
This couldn’t be “Wanda”. Wanda would never allow herself to say such a thing. This is the “personality” that told me that I didn’t need a man to take care of me and that I should always be in a position to take care of myself. She’s the person who urged me to be independent, self sufficient and a modern woman in every sense of the word. So how is she now advising me to play the role of the little woman? Huh!!?? Didn’t she and her peers burn their bras in protest of the image of the 1950′s homemaker? Didn’t she raise me to put myself and my education first and that babies and a husband should follow later in life? I never saw her make a difference between me and my two brothers when we were growing up. There was no difference in our chores or her expectations of our duties around the house… so why the sudden change?
What my 20-something year old self didn’t realize was that she wasn’t confused, but rather trying to teach me another lesson from the “book of life… according to Wanda”. She was teaching me that being a woman wasn’t something that every girl was born with knowing how to do. But instead it was an artform that only a select few actually knew how to master. She was giving me my first lesson in the fragility of the male ego and the art of female seduction. It took me a many trials and errors and a few occassions of watching the master at work to realize that giving him the power did not deminish my own power. In fact, the opposite was true. By showing him that I was confident and secure enough to follow his lead, I in fact, gained the most power. The power of watching a man grow with pride that he had achieved such a marvelous feat… and then do everything in his power to show that he deserved to continue to be the recipient of this most special gift.
Wanda taught me that men aren’t complicated, but rather simple creatures who, when rewarded, will “work” and “earn” the right to keep their new found treasure.
Bravo Wanda!
F*#% UP, not down
Throughout the course of modern times, mothers have advised their daughters on how to find a husband, saving their chasity for their wedding nights and staying away from bad boys. The advice of most mothers is simple and they say things like, “its just as easy to love a rich man as it is to love a poor man”. This is a mother’s way of saying that while she would prefer for her daughter marry someone she loves, its always better if he has more than loose change in his pocket.
Well Wanda’s advice to me was just as simple but a little more direct and to the point… “if you’re gonna fuck… fuck UP, not down”. She wasn’t necessarily referring to the wealth of my potential suitor but his intelligence, sophistication and home training (the latter being very important).
I can’t quite remember how old I was when she first shared this bit of advice with me, but I remember being old enough to not only understand her intent, but also that I could appreciate that Wanda and I had a unique relationship. A relationship where she could dole advice in a way that was otherwise reserved for her closest girlfriends. Advice that was unemcumbered by the inability of mothers to cross a certain line in order to affectively communicate with their daughters. Wanda wasn’t afraid or shy about her words. They were direct, clear, from the heart and filled with “motherly” love.
Just call me “Wanda”
While most people may find it strange that I call/refer to my mother by her first name, let me just say that this is something SHE started years ago.
Wanda was a young mother, so we are closer in age than your average mother/daughter. (But don’t get me wrong, our relationship was far from a “Gilmore Girls” situation. Growing up I never saw her as my peer but very much my mother in every sense of the word.) But when I was about 20 or 21 years old, while attending an after work networking party, I made the fateful mistake of calling out “mom!!” in a room full of people that otherwise assumed that my companion for the evening was my older sister rather than my mother. Never losing a beat and always quick with wit, my mother gently leans over and whispers, “just call me Wanda”.
That night was the beginning of what I like to call my “Sybil” relationship with my mother. Sybil… you know… the 1976 made-for-tv movie starring Sally Field as a woman plagued with multiple personalities. Yes, like Sybil, my mother has multiple (okay, 2) personalities. There is “Mom”, the mothering, loving, protective, overbearing, sometimes frustrating woman who brags about me endlessly and thinks she knows what is best for me and isn’t afraid to say it.
And then there is “Wanda”… Wanda is a rebel. She is the passionate, spontaneous, free, outspoken woman who doesn’t think twice about asking her daughter if she is a screamer and encourages her to have sex first thing in the morning because (I quote) “its a good way to start your day”.
For the novice, it may be confusing to know which one of Sybil’s personalities you are talking to because she is known to sometimes quickly jump from one personality to the next. Myself, as a seasoned veteran, am usually clear on which personality is presenting itself. But I am sometimes frustrated that the personality before me is not the one with whom I wish to speak and I am therefore tasked with the job of asking Sybil to present the alternate personality. Its simple really. All I have to do is say “Sybil, can you please let me talk to (insert either “Wanda” or “Mom” here)?”
If I am to be completely honest, I have to admit that I often prefer to talk to Wanda. She is the most interesting person I have ever met. And over the next few posts, I think you will come to agree.
Welcome the the world of “Wanda”
With the urging of some of my friends, I have finally decided to take a moment and write down all my adventures with “Wanda”. For years my friends have had a front row seat to my life with “Wanda”… her antics, her advice and her one of a kind words of wisdom. “Wanda” is special. “Wanda” is like no other woman I have ever met. “Wanda” drives me INSANE… at times, but she’s also kind, warm and lovable…
“Wanda” is my mother.
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