Finding Diana

An everyday woman's guide to figuring out what the hell happened to her life

 


 


Welcome to my world.  I am trying to figure out what became of me and I want to share this agonizing journey with the general public.


Please feel free to comment, but not to judge.  Ok, well we will all be judging, but just don't let me know about it.


Its a Different World

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you are completely and utterly out of place and in a different world?  Sometimes you can embrace it and/or view it as an anthropological study.  Today, for a business meeting, I had to go into a neighborhood right out of a Spike Lee movie.  Not a bagel shop in sight.  Not even big chain stores.  Just hair salons and fried fish restaurants.  I entered the meeting, one of two caucasians, and was wondering if this meeting would be any different because the demographics were so homogenous in a way I'm unacustommed to.  I imagined that many African American people must feel the same way whenever they attend a meeting full of white people.

 

There were only very minor differences.  One was that there was a prayer.  I think that was more of a Southern/Texas thing than an African American thing.  I am never freaked out by this because I am not uncomfortable with other people praying.  I am comfortable enough with my own religion and spirituality that I enjoy watching others get something out of their own prayer services.  I don't participate, because that would feel wrong to me, but I take an academic view and enjoy learning about how people pray and in my head compare that to all the TV and movies I have seen about church.  Occasionally, I will get a vision of Fred Sanford stuck in my head telling his deceased wife "Lizbeth" that the Lord was coming to take him.

 

The only other minor difference was more vocal agreements during speeches.  Kind of like on TV, where a lady yells out "Amen brother" there was a lady doing that in this meeting.  But again, I really enjoyed it.  I am very expressive and think that us uptight white New Englanders could learn a thing or two about interjecting "Lord, I hear you brother" when being presented with the current state of a clinic's operations.

 

Finally, everyone was warm and welcoming.  They all hugged me and we exchanged cards and thought of ways in which we could be mutually helpful to each other.  The underlying business model of the place was impressive and well thought out and well funded.  I was happy to see that with all the strife and differences I read about in the paper and see on TV, in real life I felt very comfortable and happy that the only differences are the ones that we make up in our heads.  Amen brother.   - There is one funny thing that happened earlier in the day.  I got on an elevator and a large black woman started singing the theme to the Jeffersons.  How often does that happen?

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