I live in a world of class, a world where there is no such thing like choice and you have to do whatever you're told to, whether you like it or not. Growing up I saw ladies loose their dreams, their hope, their passion and essence just because they couldn't speak their minds or act based on what they want.
I for one have been called so many things by my parents, a mistake, a rebellious child, a prodigal daughter, but I didn't care, cause I knew what I wanted and was not afraid to go for it, after all Abraham Lincoln's life was always there as a reminder, that quitters don't win, and winners don't quit.
I am special, and I know it, even though they'll tell me otherwise, saying that I look more like a failed science experiment, I would just smile and shake my head. If only they knew.....
7:00 am at Jasmine Brown's apartment in upper Mahattan ....
"Jasmine" I stirred not wanting to open my eyes "Jasmine wake up" oooooh can't a lady sleep-in on a Saturday morning? and the last time I checked, I live alone so who was disturbing my beauty sleep?
"Jasmine Lavender Brown will you wake up" even before opening my eyes I already knew who the voice belonged to, I don't know how many times I'll have to tell her not to call my full name, I mean who bears two flowers as first and second name. "Morning mom" I greeted rubbing my eyes.
When I said mom I'm sure you'd imagine a woman in a flower pattern dress, a beautiful apron reading: world's best mom, and a woman with a warm smile.
But sorry to bust your bubble, my mom was nothing like that (I can't even remember the last time she smiled). She didn't even respond when I greeted her, instead she straightened up, adjusted her wrinkle free dress and fixed me with a Stern look. I guess she was going out because she was dressed in a perfectly cut beige suit, her long blonde hair was tied in a bun, she wore black stilletos and her dress was complimented with a black Hermes hand bag.
"Mom what are you doing in my apartment?" disgust flickered in her ocean blue eyes "you call this an apartment?" here we go again , I braced myself for her usual *talk* about how a proper aristocrat should not be living in a low class structure like this, but I guess she was tired of complaining because.... "anyways, I know better than to question your bad habit of sleeping late on a Saturday" she scoffed.
Hold on, "sleeping late on a Saturday? Mom it's 7:00 am in the morning" was she playing with me, well she doesn't have a sense of humor but still to me 7:00 am is way too early to wake up on a Saturday.
Why are we even dilly-dallying she should just get straight to the point "i came here this morning to inform you that there is a ball this evening hosted by the Bryan's, I've booked your spa, hairdo, makeup and outfit appointment. Someone is coming to pick you up by 8:00am" she said.
Oh great she came here to inform me about a stupid ball "mom, I have my plans for today, I'm not going to jeopardize it because of a stupid-" she cut me off " Mrs. Bryan, a highly respected governess is coming back from Finland and she might take a liking in you and agree to train you" "take a liking in me? I'm not attending a Ballroom Party because I want to be noticed/ picked by a woman who spends her time training and looking after kids as an occupation, and I told you I don't want to become a governess.There's no way I'm going, no way" I was so determined to put my foot down on this one but then her next statement shocked me immeasurably.
"if you don't attend this ball, I'm going to disallow the continuation of your orphanage here in Manhattan and other branches" she threatened "what? Mom you can't do that, there are so many children we've helped there, don't you care about the orphans?" did she even have a heart? "well then, I guess I'll meet you later in the evening, by 6:00pm prompt" She gave me a sly smile then turned on her heel leaving behind the smell of her perfume.
I had barely finished my morning routine when there was a knock on my door "come in" I called out through a mouthful of waffles and the next second a young lady in pencil skirt, white shirt and black flip-flops came in with a black folder. She took a step back shocked when she saw me and gave me that look that I was tired of getting, I mean people should learn to conceal their expressions/reactions.
"Miss Jasmine" she called trying to confirm if she knocked on the right door "yes and you must be Rachael" she just kept staring at me "miss Jasmine may I ask what happened to your eyes?" I was liking this lady less every second "I'm sure you came here because you have work to do right?" that got to her, she blinked and smiled before responding "oh yes ma'am, are you ready?" she seemed lively and bubbly that I felt a pang of guilt in my heart for snapping at her, don't blame me I'm just tired of telling people my sad story. "Give me a minute" I stood up and went to my room to get my bag " Let's go" I told her when I got back down.
Rachel first took me to Blimester spa& body scrub, and honestly if I want to rate the place, I'll give it a 6/10. I mean I'm not a spa person but I've been to a few and judging by my standard, their services were average.
Let's start with the attitude of the receptionist, when we entered she was like "welcome to Blimester spa (she skipped the body scrub, probably found it as an hassle to pronounce the full name) how may I help you?" First mistake,don't think I'm paranoid or something but look at the way she said it, is it her company or is she the one who is going to render the services, it should be: How may we help you? Plus she didn't even smile, she frowned her face as if she was escorting us into a Military facility.
2, the massage table was as uncomfortable as hell I mean I was literally shifting the whole time and what even made it worse was that the two masseuses in the room were speaking Mandarin and with my face down I couldn't see their expressions, who knows if they were planning to kill me. Fortunately, I didn't get to find out because the massage ended before I could hate it the more.
ns 172.71.254.188da2
and then Add to home screen.