Second Time Around

It is my firm belief that a movie sequel is always seeking to accomplish what the first film did: captivate an audience. However, this feat is rare and almost impossible to do. Most of the time, sequels do the original film a grave injustice by being bland, completely predictable, and over the top. Fortunately, there are a few films that seem to deliver the goods and recreate the magic the original film presented: The Best Man Holiday is one of them. 

Set some years later, after many marriages, kids, and career improvements/changes, the college friends reunite for the Christmas holiday weekend. Though it is not all smiles and sunshine, the beauty of their reunion warms the heart and excites any Best Man movie fans. The original cast returns with the perfect dose of humor, charisma, ensemble ambience, and tear jerking scenes that make every person in the theater question their faith, loyalty, and ability to forgive. 

With each and every scene, you are reminded why the first movie worked so well: the cast! Everything in the cast just blended flawlessly with slapstick humor, the tender moments of truth, and the hypnotizing way each character discovers a new layer of themselves. That in my humble opinion is what a sequel is all about. 

There is something wondrous in knowing that with each scene, your favorite characters from one of your favorite movies divulges of themselves, something you didn't see before. It is exciting, endearing, and the reason we go to the movies. The Best Man Holiday never disappoints because it does not stray too far from the formula for a great film: entice, invite, reveal, and leave the audience hungry for more. 

Director Malcolm D. Lee felt so confident in his work that he left the film with an ambiguous cliffhanger that begs the question: will there be a Best Man 3? And judging by opening weekend numbers, I know I am not alone in my desire to see a trilogy. When and if another film comes to theaters, I will be there, on time, with tissues in hand, preparing to see yet another extension of the fantastic cast who I grew to love so much way back when.

Horror Head

Yesterday, my co-worker stopped by my desk to chat and noticed my screen saver (see photo to left) and said, "I never imagined you to be a horror film lover." I don't blame her ignorance because she doesn't truly know me. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I adore horror films! Some might call it strange for a girly, girl such as myself to be obsessed with the latest slasher, gore

 infused, or creepy ghost story to hit the theaters, but it is only natural to me. My first memory of my "horrification (entrance into horror films)" was when I was 4 years old and my parents rented Child's Play. I tried my best to watch it without flinching, closing my eyes, or freaking out: I didn't last 10 minutes. Unlike most small children who would have endless nightmares and loss of sleep, my curiosity with horror grew. I decided I wanted more: more horror, more scares, and more terror. 

Sadly, my opinion of the genre has only grown with adoration. I love horror films more than any other genre of film. In fact, I am such a huge fan that I don't wait until the movie is available at the theatre: I see my horror films at 10 pm the Thursday before their worldwide, release (in the states). I have never been a patient person which is what I attribute my insane desire to see the films sooner than later. I have become so engulfed in the genre that I cruise different websites, looking for the latest horror releases to rent and watch. October is a great horror movie month. 

Consequently, I look forward to watching The Shining, Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Carrie (the remake). Horror will always be my favorite genre of film. I don't why I love the thrill of being spooked or creeped out, but I do. I believe the main reason why I love horror films is because I know those crazy things don't normally happen. However, when I got my very own, apartment in LA, I got a crash course in "too much scary is not good," when I started watching real life horrors on shows like Dateline  on ID. 

These were true tales of women who were murdered, men who vanished without a trace, dead children, and so many other, creepy, REAL LIFE SITUATIONS! Now that scared me into sleeping with every light on in the house. Funny how a movie is fine, but real life is too much. Regardless of the content, I remain an avid horror fan and hope to maintain my stance on the genre. With that said, if this new, Carrie remake isn't up to snuff, there will be one, pissed horror head in Phoenix! 

The Place You'll Go....

I am a natural born traveler. Been that way my whole life. My father was in the Navy for nearly 15 years, so I spent many of my formative years being a transplant in new cities and places. As a young person, this can either make or break your personality. Thankfully, it made mine! My love of unusual experiences and the unknown has only grown over the years. And as I get older, I travel more, and discover new pieces of me. 



My most recent journey took place on the gorgeous island of Jamaica. I have heard many stories of the good, the bad, and the ugly about Jamaica, but nothing prepared me for the journey that awaited on this joyous occasion. It is not everyday that your best friend gets married, but whenever they do, you must be in attendance, so off to Jamaica I went!

The journey to Marcel's home country started for me on September 5th. After spending several hours on different  planes, I landed in Miami, my first stop. While there, I managed to enjoy a few bites and fabulous conversation with my friend Rachel. This was Rachel and I's first time meeting since we were technologically introduced by a mutual friend. Like most people, we wanted to hit the Miami strip and enjoy a little fine cuisine (sarcasm) and conversation. This consisted of Wet Willies and talking about our futures, family, and the men in our lives.

After dinner and the beginning of a fabulous relationship with Rachel, I went to my great Uncle's house and stayed the night. He has lived in Miami for over 35 years, so whenever I go, it is  must that I see him! We got caught up on each other's lives, he prepared a feast for me which I happily devoured, we watched a completely, ridiculous film about genetically altered, alligators (Aunt Ruby's choice), and drank rum and cokes all night: it was awesome. The night came and went and finally it was time for Jamaica. 

I could not wait to get on the plane, slouch down in my seat, and let my mind drift away thinking about all the adventures to be had. After several conversations with my fellow "flightees," the plane landed. I got off, went through customs, got a very expensive taxi ride (20 American bucks!) to the shuttle I was supposed to take and still missed it! 

Being the ultra resourceful person I am, I found a lovely yet slightly disgruntled bus boy to walk me over to the "bus station" and ride the city bus. I hopped on the city bus wearing a flirty, floral print frock, chocolate mousse and hot neon ankle strap heels, a Louis Vuitton carryon, and the curliest, blonde head of hair they ever saw: I definitely fit in.

The bus ride was unreal. The curves, turns, and twists had my stomach in knots, but I relished it. When was I ever going to be riding the city bus with locals dressed like a total tourist and completely unsure of where I was going exactly? Probably never again, so I better enjoy it while it last is what I thought. The bus conductor managed to fall completely in love with me during the 3 hour bus ride. He was actually a very nice, young man from Montego Bay who helped me out tremendously: he transferred my American money into Jamaican money and got me cab before I got whisked away by one of the many boisterous taxi drivers dying for a customer. 



After catching a ride, I managed to get to a destination that had many other Americans: The Salvation Army. Since my best friend is a member of the church, I felt at ease with the relative strangers. I became reacquainted with Marcel's good friend Steve and his new wife Solivi and met some other new friends. 

The rehearsal dinner had me tearing up over everything. The decor definitely screamed WE'RE IN LOVE! The colorful, floating candles, surrounded by crystals, bright orange and blue table cloths, and a soothing water fountain made the craziness of my journey to Kingston a distant memory. I knew I was among friends, best of all my best friend.  

The heartfelt speeches and tender moments shared between the couple almost helped ease the pain of being a single woman at a wedding as well as being a hungry one. Being a vegetarian in Jamaica is not the easiest. Many of the dishes that do not have meat still have animal stock. Plus almost every major meal has rice as a side. Though not a bad pairing, rice can only be prepared so many ways, before you start longing for the age old, safe plate: a salad. 

Being my natural self, I had to get a slice of the Jamaican night life, so we had to go out! Since it was Marcel's last night as a single man, it was more like an impromptu bachelor party. We ended up at a club that focused on style much more than dancing. Sure there was dancing, but there was much more "watching" of others fashions, lack there of, and of course body parts. Derrieres seemed to be the body part of choice to "observe." For this very reason, I almost got kidnapped for the 4th out of nearly 10 times in Jamaica that night. 

Side note, from my own, personal female observation, Jamaican men are extremely aggressive in their pursuit of a female. Whether it be grabbing your wrist and leading you to the dance floor, whistling, or creating a song that gives you their phone number, they are heavily after the opposite sex. It is an overwhelming yet empowering feeling that can make any woman feel irresistible and self conscious. You've been warned....

Whenever I go out, I have a ritual that I hardly ever break no matter where I am: I always eat early morning nosh. Jamaica was no different. There was not a Denny's or IHOP who happily served up the early morning calories to late night partiers, but there was a Pita Grill. Pita Grill was definitely the healthiest early morning nosh I ever had in my life. As we reminisced on all the damage we did to the dance floor, I munched on my curried, chickpea and potato pita wrap with a side of cheese fries (The American in me) and an extra sweet Sprite (foreign soda is naturally sweeter): IT WAS DIVINE!!! 

Finally, the wedding came. It was a day filled with emotion and deep thoughts. I thought about the countless conversations me and my best friend had over the years about our "future spouses," how we would never forget about one another, and how we would ALWAYS be friends. Now more than ever, I hope those words were genuine because I surely cannot fathom my life without Marcel Moore in it. 

I did shed a tear and I prayed right then and there that I would find someone who I felt I could not live without. It is a scary thought too intense to comprehend yet I look forward to the day it is a reality. Fact: Jamaican weddings are naturally gorgeous because of the glorious beach breezes that fill the church, the ocean is only a few feet away, and the lush greenery sends your mind into a permanent state of peace. It is surreal. 

The reception was especially great because I finally had some red pea soup. Side note: red pea soup does not actually have red peas in it, but red beans. I learned this from my uncle upon my return back to Miami. I didn't care what it had in it, I simply loved that it was vegetarian and delicious! At the reception, the night was definitely danced away and more emotions clouded the room. Mine, his, and every guest in the room who seemed to wear theirs on the beautiful dresses and suits they owned (a grown man cried like a baby when giving his speech to Marcel). 

After dancing my fabulous feet off (BCBG is the best place for wedding shopping), I managed to find time to relax in my hotel room for a few hours. Within this time, I had a mini photo session on the balcony (I am that girl), ordered a Ting (had to have one) from room service, and bought a few things online. The resort was especially fabulous. I felt like I could have gone out an found any guy in the lobby, grabbed him, and married him just to say I did so at a hotel so beautiful! If you are ever in Kingston, I highly recommend The Knuftsford Court Hotel....bellissma! 

The wedding weekend ended with a fun, witty conversation about travel, culture, and life with Marcel's friend Keith and his wife taking me back to Montego Bay from Kingston in their rental car. We had a blast! We laughed, ate some yummy fun at The Island Grill restaurant (very vegetarian friendly), got a few souvenirs, and formed an incredible bond. I will forever be grateful to them for taking me back and making sure, a single, traveling woman, got on her plane safely. The Grahams are magnificent in my book! 

Finally, it was time to get back to Miami and then Phoenix. They say, the places you'll go change you as a individual over time. This is definitely true in my opinion. Though only there for a weekend, I felt a shift in who I was before. I realized, that the adventure of a journey is sometimes the best part, money is not everything, and faith is crucial upon travel. It was my faith that allowed me to travel to a foreign country without fear of being attacked, taken, or worse. Faith is everything. 

My devine faith allowed me to see the many lovely places that Jamaica had to offer. I will carry this same faith with me when I go back which should be very soon. I love a journey, hopefully that will never change. If sitting next to a 60 something year old ,college professor at ASU who splits her time between Germany and America on the plane ride to Miami had assured me anything, it's that you're never too old to travel or have the adventure of your lifetime! 

I Will Remember You

It is truly better to have loved than to have never loved at all, but losing love is devastating each and every time. In the year 2013 alone, I have lost 6 people. The most shocking reality of this matter is that I have lost those 6 people within five months of each other. I lost my paternal grandpa first, two cousins, an uncle, an uncle once removed, and a lastly, my great-grandmother. Over the course of a few years, I went from being a girl who rarely lost a loved one, to losing more people each month. I cannot count the many mornings I woke in tears from the news that this relative died from a heart attack or this relative finally succumbed to cancer. The amount of stress that the human body can take is incredible. 

I have allowed the stress of these deaths to affect me in a multitude of ways. One of the main ways is gaining weight and losing focus. My mind has been so busy trying to adapt to a new job, saving money, constant trips down south, weddings, birthdays, and funerals, sometimes I don't know if I am coming over going. My faith feels like it is constantly being tested and I am failing every single one of them. 

Other than my Paw Paw's death, my great-grandmother's death was truly the hardest. This was a woman who outlived all her siblings, took care of the one's who were in poor health, raised a child that was not even hers, worked stressful jobs, lived through some of the darkest times in the country, and still managed to smile daily. During the week of her funeral, I must have cried a thousands times because I kept remembering all of the beautiful moments I had with her. I remember how she loved watermelon (especially the sweet ones), how she never ate out, she cooked daily, loved buttermilk, rarely drove, loved to watch wrestling, she prayed regularly, and most importantly, she treated everyone well. 

I cannot think of one bad thing I have heard anyone say about my Big Mama. She was loved by everyone she met. I recall when I was little and I stayed in Louisiana for the summer with my grandparents. My paternal grandma, my Mima was teaching sumer school and my Paw Paw would be asleep and resting for work. So, everyday Mima would wake me up, we would get dressed, and we would head to Big Mama's. I was not so happy to be there alone (my sister was still in school and stayed in Atlanta with my parents), but Big Mama made me feel ok. We would watch wrestling, eat biscuits, bacon, grits, and eggs for breakfast, clean up (what little I could do), and when I was sleepy, we would nap together. 

The feeling that remains with me to this day when I think of her is: comfort. I always felt love, acceptance, and comfort. I always knew I could get a warm, (fattening), delicious meal, a hug, kisses, and a slap on the butt (she always did that). I never knew anything different. My Big Mama was simply awesome. I used to marvel at how she took in so many people and took care of them. I wish I had an ounce of her kindness and generosity. I know she is no longer with us, but I would like to think I learned compassion from her. I hope to always carry these memories, lessons, and moments with me for  the rest of my life. Yeah, I don't want to cry anymore this year, I just want to remember the people I lost in the best way possible. That makes me happy. 

Wedding Season!

I absolutely love the mere thought of love. It is a dream state I wish to never awaken from. With all the beautiful Facebook posts and wedding invitations, I get caught up in a wedding coma. Lush pinks, crisp white shirts, breathtaking bouquets, and mouth watering cakes: I love it all! As my sister is celebrating her best friend's wedding in Kansas City right now and I wait exactly one week to enjoy my cousin's wedding in Dallas, I slowly become hypnotized by the beauty of love. These are the moments I most cherish most as a girl!

Wedding season is not only exciting, but it is eye-opening. It makes you realize that what life is all about: becoming one, a union to never part. I read a story this week about a man and woman who had been married for 75 years and died one day apart. What a life to live! While they were still very young and active, they had never spent more than a day apart from each other their entire marriage! This was so incredibly beautiful to me! I remember thinking, I want this kind love. 


As I see all the fabulous engagement announcements, baby pictures of a couple's first child (my manager), and the wedding photos from the "big day", I realize one thing and one thing only: this life is not meant to live alone. Yes, you can be single and live a great life, but is much greater when you have someone to help you live it to your fullest potential. That is truly what life is all about! I cannot wait to see what the upcoming weddings bring, especially my best friend's big day in Jamaica rapidly coming up in September. I can hardly wait to be red-faced (from crying) and emotional from the greatest man I have ever met joining his wife as one. Crying as I type...it would be truly glorious!

New You

Every now and again a person so gets so burned out they need to reinvent themselves: find the new them. The new you is actually not new, it has always been there, you have just been to busy to pay attention. You have either been working the many jobs you have throughout the year or raising kids, or attending school. No matter what the reason is, never let the new you suffocate. I had to learn this lesson the hard way.

Roughly one week ago, I had a full blown panic attack on the way to my second job. I pulled over and could not breathe for what seemed like an eternity (really it was 3 minutes). I cried profusely and asked God to help me because I was clearly not seeing straight and was lost in the shuffle. I had just left one job and started a new one. The new job seems promising, but with any new job is a certain level of anxiety. That anxiety can often get the very best of us: it certainly got the best of me at the very moment. 

I had a decision to make: was I going to let the stress of adulthood and confusion of what direction to go, get the best of me? I decided the day after that I was not longer going to be a victim of my own excuses. I am going to get back to cooking, working out, writing, traveling, and just LIVING FOR ME! I need to stop and smell the roses. No more double shifts for my two jobs, I will eventually get to where I want to go, but I cannot rush anymore. 

It is time for some major changes in my life and it starts now! Starting July 1st, I am juicing for 2 weeks and eating raw. I am going to try my best not to eat processed or fast foods for the month. I want to reinvent my soul as well. I have committed to going to church at least twice a month. I am going to take small trips to little, local places like a theatre I've never been to and I am going to start hiking. It is time out for excuses and time to start thinking about investments. They say, you only get what you put into something. It is time to put more energy and focus into Oriel, so I can truly be content. After all, that is all any of us wants in life anyway! 

The Healing Process

A vacation is usually a break from the monotony of your regular work week. For me, my recent trip to Vegas was more than a mini vacation, it was the beginning of the healing process for me and many others. After the unexpected death of my paternal grandfather, my sister decided we needed to cease every opportunity to live a full life. Vacations, traveling, and loving our lives is essential, so she planned a trip to Las Vegas for Memorial Day weekend. I initially was against the idea as Vegas and I have a terrible history: the first time I went it was on a whim and I was completely broke and the second time, I was with a large group of people with varying personal situations going on. Each trip prior to my most recent one was filled with fights, cattiness, anxiety, and bad feelings, but this trip was (pleasantly) surprisingly different. 

My sister, my cousin and her sister, and my aunt all headed down to Vegas for some R&R. The hoards of half naked women, salivating men, and over priced EVERYTHING made those old "Vegas feelings" return, but it did not last long. After checking into our lovely hotel, we let our hair down with a few drinks, laughs, and slowly started to make memories that will last forever. Most people look at Vegas as party city with plenty of chances to have wild and raucous moments with strangers you will most likely never see again. For us, Vegas was the beginning of a long process of healing and bonding that we all desperately needed. With my sister and I having just lost our beloved grandfather and my cousin's having just lost their beloved mother, it was nice to not think about those painful realities for a short while. 

I got to (briefly) bond with my cousin who I have not seen in over a decade and continue to form fabulous memories with her little sister who I see more frequently. 2013 Las Vegas marked yet another wondrous vacation with my aunt who is back in school and working on bettering herself educationally. Despite the many emotional and traumatic experiences she dealt with as a young girl, she has finally found her place in the world and is working on her degree so she have a fabulous future for herself and her children. The trip was so many things: hectic, frustrating, hilarious, and calming, but most of necessary! Every single red-blooded, human being on this earth needs a break from the harsh realities of daily work and family even if it is just a day away from home (stay cation) it is necessary! 

Right before I took the trip, I was feeling pretty low. Stressed from the daily hustle and bustle of life and worried about my future, the last thing I wanted or needed was a trip....to Vegas no less. Had I not gone on the trip, I would never have these memories, these awesome memories that will last us a lifetime. The high rollers, excessive line waits, pretentious club attitudes of Vegas doormen, and the overly expensive drinks only means one thing: I will not be returning to Las Vegas until NEXT MEMORIAL DAY!  Until then, the memories of Lil Veggie, Thickums, Auntie, Janee, and Heather will live on.