Day 18-24: Where does this road lead...?

I began this blog with the noble intention of documenting my life. Mostly coz I think that they'll need this information for my E! True Life Story. Honestly, there's plenty I learn on a day to day basis and I feel that in order to truly learn anything, I gotta be conscious of it. And my awareness is reaffirmed through writing. That's my steez. I can write some poetry but things only really come full circle through writing. Although writing about oneself exclusively feels hella strange and self-involved. And shallow. I do care about the important issues but really now, how big an effect is SA's looming recession got on my life. I mean a direct deadly threat that keeps me awake at night. What's worse than conceitedly writing about yourself is writing flat, uninspired pieces. Its a waste of effort and time. So I'm back here... Writing about the self...

Truth is I haven't been able to blog as often as I been doing coz my life has reached a PG status. Which brings into question.... Should you really be doing something that you wouldn't readily share... And that dear ol scripture comes to mind...something about God knows what you been doing in the shadows, He knows everything. I don't doubt that for a second. The one that scares me is the bit about everything that you do in the dark, will come to the light. I'd rather people didn't know. Hence my reluctance to share the activities of the past week and a half. Just in case the wrong people see it and it fucks with my bigger plan.... I ain't tryna self-destruct...

But I ain't keen to just write about how I wanna share but I can't... That's a sure blog-killer and it renders me unable to even promote this blog because I don't want other people misinterpreting my thoughts, feelings and actions.

Again, I'm at a place where I'm tryna figure whats what coz up feels like down... And wrong is right. That hazy grey area has clouded everything. Maybe conveniently so....

I was innocent at first. Goodness knows I was. I was not checking for a man... But then he came.... And put a spanner in my newly acquired machine. I wasn't even checking for him. He came outta the blue. And even now as I sit here, making my way to work, I can smell his scent. Which is super strange and frustrating coz he ain't here... Plus I've just stepped out a bath with fresh clothes that he ain't ever touched... It's also hella intoxicating... He's my new thing.... I was so scared that I would be so stressed playing Survivor for the next six months but he's managed to take me out of that toxic space and I'm living a lil.... A lot... I'm free... [whose song is that again??? FREE!? Oh yeah Destiny's Child last album... That joint's fire...] And that's the effect he has on me... I believe that God bestows all that good stuff... And that feeling of liberty can only come from Him... So its pure and good... Then why oh why would God send me an unavailable man with a baby momma?! Especially when he saw how focussed I was.... Like attracts like right.... I thought I was over attracting unavailable men with lotsa luggage.... I don't wanna mess with my karma... Should I just walk away [not happening...] or see to this affair's demise.... Well after this week, I won't be seeing him as much... Which sucks but if anything, I believe that's how God planned it. I'll look back at this and know the lesson... Right now, I'm smack in the middle of class....

Is it possible to fall for somebody so quickly? But don't they say that things that start up quick, end just as swiftly and for that very reason, I can't expect him, or even demand that he leave his woman coz I don't think I can offer everything she can... ie live-in pussy, a mother, an extended family and half a decade of emotions... I'm just a girl in her early 20's[23 in a coupla days and still making the same mistakes as my late teens]... If I'm gonna wreck a home, I gots to be able to step up.... I'm not about to just let him or even us screw up so many lives for lustful purposes... And I told him as much... We gotta be sure... As much as it pains me to say that... It is what it is... Ha ha of cos my low self esteem has nothing to do with me doubting myself and what I can offer him or even a possible relationship.... [Hey, I just figured that now... You see that's why I write...]

soundtrack to this post... What it is- Ras Kass!

Day 15 - 17: oh fiddlesticks... what's happening...

End of the second day of my second fortnight in the PRODUCTION. Ironically, things aren't quite productive. I'm freakin out a lil at the concept of not doing much. Lil to no efficiency is making me a lil to hella nervous.

Plus I'm facing mountains of distraction, now that I have sorta settled in. One or two cuties are messing with my focus. So more nerves. Plus I'm studying in order to meet a month-end assignment. Many more nerves. Mm... afterthought.... I have plenty to do... So what was all of that about....

Ok ok... I'm just scared that I may be losing the focus that I so desperately wanted to achieve. And for what?!
[insert frustrated, blood curdling scream here]

now this is discontent/disconnect anxiety!

Day 13 and 14... Oh how much can change...

Life has a funny way of pulling you up by the underwear and reminding you that for the most part, you have zero control. Life wedgies tends to happen when you start walking and talking as though 'you on top of everything'... It's a leader's plight... A boss's life... More accurately, a pain in the arse! I will concede, however, that it does make for an interesting living. It saves us from the monotony of knowing everything and being suprised by nothing.

God's grace lives within those moments of serendipity. It's when He is having a grand ol chuckle at presumed human intelligence. It's when I realise, for the umpteenth time, that what's meant to be will be, despite my actions.
But if I choose to be obsessive about something, I can be sure to forget to enjoy the experience and really only notice that I'm no good at doing the very thing that I'd rather not do. Just like The Secret says. Elementary, my dear Wandile!

Ok, let me get to you up to speed. On Friday, our first fortnight at work, expired. In retrospect, my attempt at being focussed and disassociated from work politics pretty much failed. Well, the way I sorta see it.... I had to know what's going on without being in the thick of things. In order to suss out some people. But really, we are all just sussing eachother out. But what's the point of that? Getting bogged down in the utterances and even indiscretions of a fellow contestant. That's not gonna help you win. If anything, that's hella unfocussed. I only gotta really worry about impressing the final decision-makers. Not my rivals. They have no say.

And isn't that like this life. Being concerned with Joe Soap next door really ain't gonna score points with God. And He ain't gonna wanna hear about him during his one-on-one with you. So I need to maximise my actions and stop being so obsessed with a false sense of security ie playing the game. This isn't a reality show. Although it may feel like it, complete with a competitive edge. Truth is reality shows are all fiction. TV IS A LIE. And you'd think I'd know that...

The rest of Feb will see me right in the hub of radio. Production. I didn't plan on being there so quick but everything happens for a reason right. So I'm hella excited to learn some technical stuff, such as recording etc. Who knows, I could do a voice-over. Now that I'm (slightly a lil more) open to the experience, I plan on taking it on in bite-size chunks. Fortnight by fortnight. And forget the six month up hill climb ahead. Step by step. Day by day. Or else, I could very well collapse from information overload, brain freeze or even constant anxiety. I can do this! Because I am here, I am worthy.

When I started writing this, I really had no clue as to where I was going with it. Now that it's out, I'm suprised and a lil relieved that I didn't touch on the activities that made these past coupla days so damn menacing. I'd rather not say. But I spent Vday alone and Friday's party, my first proper outing all year, was hella fun and eye-opening. My search for the self continues and I'm finding pieces of me in many of the new people coming my way... It's nice... And by the time I turn 23 in two weeks, I'll hopefully be walking into 2009 with a more steadY strut! A la Manhattan....

Day 9 to 12.... We gettin' up.... Been throwing up....

I've been hectically unmotivated to write since the week began. My last post was supposed to have a part two but Monday saw me struggling to keep down copious amounts of bitter bile, inching its way up my oesophogus.... Ultimately, the motion sickness got me and I hurled the liquid into a plastic folder. Good times!
That was the tone for the day pretty much sorted. Couldn't eat much. No. Couldn't eat anything but dry brown toast. My sense of smell was so incredibly intensified that I wanted to cut it off. Or atleast get 'Chris-Browned' right on it!

So why the hell did I head to work in the first place because in Survivor, as one of the girls put it, injured contestants get the boot. I ain't about to be sent home because of an ill-timed op. So I sucked it up. Bile and all. Ok not so much the bile but the discomfort, pain and lack of appetite and even a long winded lecture or two. Everyone gots an opinion nowadays. No, everyone likes the sound of their own voice.
All in a days work.

Days 5 to 8... Disabled-emotionally and physically

My op finally came and went like a summer storm that leaves you shivering with flu. My right arm is currently in a sling. Sorry, a mother of a sling. This thing is so big, you could house a small family up in there. So imagine the comfort levels that correlate with lugging around something this bulky. Its like one of those aching fat zits smack, in the middle of your face that is un-pick-able. Speaking of squeezing zits, I no longer have the pleasure. Using just my left hand is not half as satisfying as the use of both index fingers.

As I type this, my left hand is cramping up. Something righty wouldn't dream of. I do have the use of my right fingers but the phone appears to be too heavy for the recovering digits. Also a sweaty armpit that can't be managed is hectically frustrating. I feel so helpless. This must be how old people feel. Just an uneducated, wholly prejudice estimation...

That's the post-op run-down. Well, the abridged version. Turns out that different surgeries can affect one in different ways. The last time I was in the theatre, a benign lump was removed from my breastisis. Right-side as well. That was a relative walk in the park.

This time, you have bones, muscles, ligaments, nerves involved. It's not nice. And when my body finally realised what had happened, I freaked out. I just started to cry for no good reason. Imagine you have been watching the saddest love story and the credits are rolling. That was me x 50! Twas incredibly surreal.

While my neighbour in the ward who had gone for a similar op was in high spirits and completely happy. Unlike me, she didn't have a near 'BALE OUT' moment. Her husband reckons that I was not emotionally prepared for the op and my post-reaction confirms as much.

My mom agrees. Remember, I was not too happy about the timing of the surgery considering my new job. I even thought of postponing it. Now that I am in the middle of recovery, I only wish to get over the next six weeks as quickly as possible.

Paul came to Pretoria, exclusively for me... More of that, later...

Day 3, Day 4.... Double dealings, double feelings....

Tuesday was relatively quiet. While Wednesday was quite the opposite. But before I get into the mechanics (sales word ha ha) involved, lets dissect my love-life for a sec. Paul and I are still talking, much to his (and a lil of mine) delight. It's tricky ending relations when we haven't seen eachother in over a month. Technically that should be more than enough reason to cut one's losses. But here we are, still exchanging heartfelt poetry. It's the thorn in my side because really I would rather just get on with the getting over it part. The sooner the tears come and go, the sooner I can move on. This amounts to picking at a wound everytime the first layer of the scab forms.
But I persist because Paul, for the most part is my anchor.... Imagine a flag attached to a pole.... Paul is the pole that keeps me connected to the earth below. He keeps me grounded. He reminds me whats real, whats true, whats important.
And that's what it means to be friends. Fortunately and unfortunately our relationship is so intertwined with the friendship that you can't have one without the other. And really the latter is the biggest loss. You can get romantic with anybody but a true, genuine friend is as rare as some London sun.

But ain't that how the cookie crumbles. It is what it is. As far as work is concerned the sexual tensions are rising and the fabulous foursome (Witch, the twins and me... A true Cinderella story) is bonding fast.... Well technically we jus share some laughs.
And boy is there plenty to laugh about.... Just today, I was in some heels to complement my corporate look... As part of the sales module, we went to an agency, one of the biggest in the country so I gots to look the part of a DIVA! Lol...

Naturally, I got ripped off for it. Beautse of my lack of ass, my pants looked a lil saggy which suits my hip hop persona just as well. Now I had been out all day and at the end of the day, we all just get together and share the events of the day. We also get to perve at the cutest lil boy who visits everyday, round that time. We all check him out and we get a kick out of being totally obvious. Lol. And he is the type that knows he's hot, takes it in his swag. Eish. Gotta love eye-candy. He is is a lil young though.
Yes, sexual tensions are high. Everyone is flirting with everyone. And it's clear whats in mind.
I just wanna keep to myself but it's hard not to get caught up.
Aargh.... I think it's a blessing in disguise that I will be away on Friday, getting my shoulder op done. They call it an anthroscopy. I'm freaking out a lil especially after googling our people's experiences and the mechanics involved.
You know, the more you know, the more you worry. I am looking forward to the anaesthesia... The last time, I had an op, I woke up feeling so rested and gooooood! Gimme that please... This traffic has left me feeling so drained.

Day 2 - Having Deja-vu...

I finally got with the 09 program today when I finally started my new gig (the six month internship at the radio station). I was bright and early and anxious as to what lay ahead.I wondered how many more of us wannabees there were.
Ten(equally anxious) faces looked back at me as I walked into the reception. One more chick was missing. Numbers were split equally along gender lines, complete with the token white boy.
And I tried to put on my poker face. It was like walking into the set of a reality TV show. Weird how that was my first point of reference. Clearly I have been watching way way way too much TV.
To break the ice, I said as much...
A girl with a ginger/blond wig/weave set up (a la Kate Hudson, complete with bangs) concurred.
"And we already have the bitch." she added with a cackle.
Ok, it was not so much a cackle. And no, she didn't mean I was the bitch. She was poking fun at herself. Besides Bitch is a strong word, let's rather go with witch.
I was too nervous to laugh and too cautious to agree. So I just raised my eyebrows.
"Well, as long as that role is filled." I offered.
She took it. Very well infact.
Oh, who am I kidding she loved the attention.
And I thought back to all those times, that I had watched the Apprentice, Survivor, The Real World, Big Brother and how I always ended up hating this sort of person or worse loving to hate them.
Aaaawwwwww... I wanted to be that person... well not so much... that person never wins the audience vote....
What?! Wait! but this isn't reality TV, it's real life with a reality TV spin. Or real life being real life. Life can't imitate art.... can it?!
Either way, I was about to meet Donald Trump and his aides.
I also got to know the others a lil.
lets round up the women...
There's the Jill Scott look-a-like.. she's warm and engaging, with the cutest splash of freckles on her cheeks. She has already been dubbed "Mother" by the "Witch". Great.. the cliche roles are being filled nicely.
There are the twins... well, they aren't twins rather party girls that seemed to click from the get go. Think Paris Hilton and Lindsey Lohan. They tell it how they see it and have already expressed their disdain for the Witch.
And then there's the Cinderella.. she's rather quiet and keeps to herself. Besides she had a rather hectic first day. They worked her to the bone. Can't do too much talking when you are caught between a boss sandwich (hah ha urbandictionary word of the day... glad I could use it in a sentence...)
Now for the boys...
Honestly all day, there was no talent... Getting over the ex would prove to be difficult especially without some proper distractions.
Ait.. you know about the white boy... well he also knows more vernac than me and if it wasn't for his obvious paleness, he would a , for all intensive purposes, a fellow black brother...
There's the slightly camp dude and at the risk of this being used against me for litigation purposes, he is very sweet and very much like one of the girls... Complete with a coach bag and pull back cornrows...
There's the rock loving black dude...but he don't really dress the part.. he is White Boy's BFF...
While the guy that dresses punk rock is into hip hop... slightly confusing...
And then there's this other strange dude that says weird things but doesn't even realise it.
Not hot.
That's everyone I think.
Our Donald Trump demands as much respect and I am starting to think that this is not to be a lovely stroll in the park. Much more hectic. Should be interesting either way.
I've been paired up with White Boy as we go on our fortnightly department runs.
I think he may have the One Upper Syndrome. Good times.
Stay tuned.

Day 1 ... And it begins...

As I write this... I'm having trouble figuring what exactly to write about. This is my first proper personal blog since mid last year.
I would blog on a regular basis on myspace.... From once a week to one a month. But since I started working in July 08, I had no time and its safe to say that my respective changed.
To be honest, my perspective had changed a lot in the first half of last year and getting a job gave me an excuse not to blog. (another blog for another day)
I had gotten to this other level... I call it the Aunty O Effect... Where you kinda operate like you know everything as though you have life all figured out... I had all these Oprah-isms as an explanation for all that life would throw at me. Simply coz I had heard it on her show. Jus coz I 'grasped' the concept of the Secret... Plus I have a relationship with God... All those things had me walking with my head held high....
Well sorta... I looked the part and spoke the part but like all hot girls, my insecurites lie just beneath the pretty surface.
I couldn't blog about the stuff I used to touch on on myspace anymore because I felt I had moved past blogging inconsequentially. There had to be a point. But I didn't want to preach. But share, without being hopelessly self-involved.
Now, where's the middle ground to that? Or am I just being way too introspective? Or is it just a symptom of growing pains?
Oh gosh my head hurts... I miss being able to write about stoopid stuff that was funny. Now I can't! Atleast I won't. Well, after the lil things I've learnt, I can't allow myself to. Life means much more than a hook-up gone wrong...

I've been reading John Grisham's The Street Lawyer. It's an interesting look at the plight of the homeless. That's a blog for another day though. So today begins my journey to figure out what I wanna and how I'm gonna say it... As Luda says in his intro for Theatre Of The Mind... Here's my story and I'm sticking to it...