Day 81-84: Famous Last Words...

When I was younger (like a month ago lol) I was heavily afflicted with wanting all the things that I can't have. Mostly coz it's just human to yearn for all the stuff that aren't easily accessible. From a pair of jeans to a guy. You forget to count your blessings. It's the way of the world. And when you finally have it, you wonder if you even really wanted it in the first place...

You may truly be suffering from buyer's remorse but sometimes it's just the culmination of both self-doubt and greed- ie feeling as though you don't really deserve such pleasure for whatever inane reason, missing the thrill of the chase and wondering if you can get this, what else is in store which could be bigger n better.

Shorty asked me to be his girlfriend on Friday night/early hours of Saturday morning. Yes, I know I should just live in the moment and enjoy this. But please just indulge me for a sec....

No question about it, I'm hella flattered. I did not see it coming though. That nigga lives for suprising me, I swear. I never really know how he's gonna act, react, respond. It keeps me on my toes, I guess. And very independent in thought. I couldn't try impress him even if I tried coz I never know where his head is at. Plus, that just ain't my steez. He likes that. He said he is looking for somebody to keep him grounded... And um it appears that I'm the only one in the running coz he knows that many chicks that holla at him are doing it for superficial reasons. I know right, also shock-ed that he knows as much... Not jus a cutie...

So am I having second thoughts? Not really. Just thinking how crazy the past two months been and if being his gf will prove to be easier. Or will the pressure of a relationship tear us apart for good. Doesn't it amount to getting hitched even when you're in troubled waters. Or throwing a baby into the mix. That's jus stoopid!

I really had just gotten my head around us just dating. As in only dating. Nothing hectic or serious. I thought we'd do an extended version of that beginning part of hooking up. Dating without expecting much. I hate to put it that way but I thought we'd be like friends that hang out and make out.

Slightly better than 'friends with benefits' but certainly on the same (lack of) accountability level. I was so over expecting something half-decent from him and our lil set-up coz those expectations and hopes gave me mild heart-burn. So I let go a tad. And lo and behold, it made him realise that this is where he wanna be. I think. Hell, I hope. But lately he's been dropping that 'I don't wanna lose you' line.

I remember using that line on a few occasions when I could feel that I was about to lose my partner.
I wish I could say I planned it all. As if! And even as I joke, I know this ain't gonna be easy but we really been working hard at this. Yes, everyone been saying that there shouldn't be any difficulty in the beginning. I say well, there is no hard n fast rule. Again, what's meant to be will be.

I figured that I should resave his digits. It's weird seeing his name on my screen now. It's weird being somebody's girlfriend again considering that I was not looking to get involved. I guess that's the best kinda situation... Um... I dunno why I think that. I JUST DO. I figure it to be serendipity... A pleasant suprise. I don't like talking about this coz I really ain't sure where my head's at.

Like I said in a tweet, it's like getting new spectacles when you didn't really know that your vision was blurry. Now everything is clearer but now you don't have the words to describe what you are seeing... Make sense...?

Yeah... Not so much? So until we can use words (heard this on Supernanny. A mother talking to one of her tantrum-prone twins) , we will be enjoying it. Until we have reason or the rationale to feel otherwise... Wow... That sounds dodge simply coz with matters of the heart, logic gets thrown out the window so why am I feeling heartburn? Do I wanna do this or not? Aaaargh... Oh goodness... Heartburn!

I'm scared that I'll put down my walls for Shorty and I'll only get hurt. Only so much a girl can take. And in a relationship, you can't be mucking about. Get real or get out! You see!? Aaaargh! So we ready for that? Really? Eish... Let's ride and see... I know I can do it. I jus wonder about him. And really... should I be getting hectically involved with somebody I wonder about? Can't believe I'm still asking these questions. You know when I'm around him, I can't find these words. When I'm around him, his eyes reassure me. And all this amounts to paranoia. Ain't it funny.

Day 79-80: Make Your Mark!

Disclaimer: South Africa is currently at the height of election fever so be prepared for a few too many election puns... Let's go! But now that I'm fully conscious of not tryna slip one in, I bet I'll have none... Um... Forget I said nothing...

Meanwhile back at the ranch...

Shakespeare said that 'some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.'

I figure that Shakespeare was born great or maybe even just achieved greatness. But you must be hella special from birth to have the whole world consider you the greatest writer that ever lived. I wonder if he realised his worth or even struggled to make sense of his thoughts... You think he ever suffered from writer's block and if so, how did he curb it? Or maybe he experienced the exact opposite, an overwhelming array of thought... What about his confidence? Did he ever doubt his gift or his work? Or did he just do what comes naturally?

Doesn't it in many ways, read like the Benjamin Button story? Benji was born old, hella special but does that neccesarily equal great? Or was greatness thrust upon him?


I figure I'm one of those people that's has to toil through the mud, fight off the flies just to achieve the greatness... So I can't be surprised when many people view my blog as though it's the pscho ramblings of a desperately lonely, unispired individual...

I hear that the nosy newsroom been discussing the particulars of my blog. They tryna figure who is who. I guess the pseudonyms aren't as obvious as I thought.

Either way, Brandy figures that I should be careful about what I put up coz all kinds of people are getting an insight into my life.

There really is no way that I'm shutting down this blog. When I write my posts, I really don't consider the audience. Yes, I realise that I share some hella personal details and inner most thoughts but it is what it is. And I figure that anybody on any self-discovery journey appreciates the honesty coz we all experience drama in our lives.

Yes, I'm honest. Maybe a lil too honest. But where's the line? I'd rather be over the top I guess. Truthfully, I'd rather be laughed at for being honest than be honoured for buying face.

Go hard or go home! That's my word. What's meant to be will be. Many people been tryna tell me that I should not just focus on being a DJ and should instead set my eyes on something that will get my foot in the door. I dunno hey. I gots my eye on the ball and I ain't tryna settle for second best. Aim for the moon so that you when you fall you can land on a star.

We've been covering the elections and chasing stories. It's been hectic. I rather enjoyed being out on the field, writing stories from there. That was fun and intense. Hella exciting. And that feeling that I live for, that excitement was rushing through my body. Loved it! But I know that being a DJ is ten times that so I can I possibly settle... mmm... so why am I settling when it comes to a man... Good Question... Will tackle that later...

Day 78: Girl Talk- Blessin' or Bitchin'?

I come from an all girls high school. That background shaped much of my personality. There are two types of females in a single sex institution- the strong, bossy Miss Independent type versus the shrunken violet type who's hella vulnerable and tries to impress her peers by engaging in dodgy behaviour.

From my black n white view of the situation, many situations, it's clear that I fall into the former category. I consciously avoided being friends with many girls, especially plastics because of the lack of trustworthiness and the fierce competitive spirit that was enforced upon us via academic and extra-curricular colours and awards.

Put in work/ If you don't want the girl to talk/ And you don't want your feelings hurt/ Put in work/ Cause if you don't/ That girl's just gon' go spreadin' the word

Even though I am able to share some laughs with Ms Fabulous and The Girls... Hell even though Ms Fabulous shares my birthday... Truth is we couldn't be more different. I don't do weaves or wigs or make-up or jangly jewellery or gold chains or black-berries or tight fitting denim or hectic gym or heels or open slingy sandals or skimpy dresses. That sorta outward glam is just not my steez.

Ever since I can remember, I've never been crazy about the concept of money. And even though I adore being spoilt by a man, I cringe everytime the bill comes. I have to literally fight the urge to reach inside my purse. Come to think of it, I get the same feeling when I pass a hobo or a street musician. Even when I'm broke so broke that I literally can't afford to give away a rand, I sometimes will, hoping that Mother Dearest will sort me out later. I actually try not to give out less than R5 coz anything less really amounts to nothing in today's inflation. But if I ain't got it, oh well, it's better than giving nothing. I feel so bad when I don't give. I feel worse when I allow a nigga to cover everything... When I'm that chick that gets picked up and dropped off and paid off... I mean dude... I feel like I'm using dude... Or like dude is investing time and money and I'm just there... A financial burden. Relationships aren't cheap... And with my (just below) two grand stipend, two series and residence in Pretoria (50km away from the events hub that is Jozi), I can't afford much right now. Especially now that I've taken an extended hiatus from writing:) And because I'm an accountant at heart (and academically), I'm accustomed to working for my own money instead of accepting hand-outs from Mother-Dearest. I often have to stop my brain from automatically calculating the costs that my date may be incurring. So when Shorty told me that he wouldn't be able to take me home on Saturday coz of a tight financial situation, I was not over the moon but I was understanding. I was also mildly impressed at his candour but I mostly found myself cringing, as usual, at the mere mention of money.

The Girls figure that I'm wasting my time on a dead-end situation with Shorty and I should be getting pampered and spoilt by a more 'financially-focussed' man who can wine and dine me to my heart's content.


Now I'ain't sayin she a goldigga/ But she ain't messing with a broke nigga...

It takes a lot to pull at my heart-strings. And money is the absolute last thing on my list... Hell did I even mention it on to the list, last time?

Paul was my broke-ass toy-boy and while I was ok with playing the sugar-momma to a 20 year-old, I couldn't help but resent the way that he couldn't just spoil me whenever. But I felt worse for expecting something, anything when he was clearly unable to afford it. So I would pay even when he wanted to coz the-accountant-in-me wouldn't allow him to spend what could possibly be his last monies.

So you can imagine what a significant adjustment it has been to date someone who actually can afford to treat me to a thing or two (well... Most of the time...)

Funny thing happened, The Girls were so determined to have me move on and move up (lol like I BEEN threatening to) that one of them typed out a break up text. I wasn't about to send it. Atleast not yet. That's the thing about calling something off, you gots to be prepared to be done for good. I don't break up with people for reactions anymore. It's important to mean it coz you dealing with another human being, they are known to be unpredictable when their backs are against the wall. Plus at the end of the day, you gots to live with your decision, not your friends. If I am making a mistake, atleast I made it myself so I'll take full responsibility for it. But living through others can only result in unwarranted resentment. I'm a grown ass woman. Umma do me!

So where's the line? Nigga gots to have a job right. You ain't gotta make millions but can we atleast check out a play at the State Theatre!?

Day 74-77: Breathe n Stop...

I guess it can't really end until you're ready to let go. As in, you're not still pining or reminiscing or fantasising... Until those good memories are only that and not an urge to make some more... Otherwise you are still pretty much in the thick of things despite your denial and determination to move on.

As much as I wanna just be over this Shorty saga, truth is that the disgust has returned to just being good ol typical mistrust-fueled con-fuss-ion.

I don't know what's right and what's real anymore/ I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore/ And when do you think that it will all become clear/ Coz I'm being taken over by The Fear...

The very day after I wrote my last blog, Shorty again failed to return my stuff even though I had expressly reminded him and he had expressly committed to doing so. But I guess what did I expect, nigga BEEN flakey! That was what I thought to my myself as he pitched up empty-handed on yet another occasion.

Honestly, I was more bothered by the fact that I'd have to deal with him again when he finally sticks to his word. I had no clue how that would pan out coz just the sight of him disgusted me. No, he had not turned ugly overnight but the thought of his betrayal had me trippin. So I kept my words to a minimum. I must have managed about five. Whenever he was within my proximity, I walked away. I knew that if I opened my mouth to exchange more than a greeting, I'd scream at him and maybe even make a scene. Dude, I was fuming. My insides were puffed up and the blood was boiling. I felt my ears get hot and forced myself to get some water from the kitchen.

He did well to seem unaware of my mood by not bothering to enquire about it. Which was just as well coz I needed to cool it clearly.

The following day was hella busy in the newsroom. Whoopdedoo! This time, Short pitched with my stuff. SUPRISED, SUPRISE! You coulda knocked me over with a feather. An ambiguous feeling fell over me. Firstly, Joy coz my damn camera was safely back in my possession and as I flipped through the pictures, I was a lil disappointed to find no evidence of his deception. Dammit this nigga managed to delete everything, I thought. Not that it's a difficult device to navigate but really Shorty has no clue when it comes to technology. It's quite laughable. One hella juxtaposition compared to his modern appearance and vibe. And boy did he look good. Hotdammm! It left me wondering where the disgust had gone. Actually the disgust faded when he denied all the allegations levelled against him [Yho the newsroom gots me talking crazy]. Goodness how gullible am I? Or rather, how hectically do I want this nigga to be in the clear? Or worse, how bad have I got it?

Exit Lily Allen stage left.
Enter Keri Hilson stage right.

Sometimes [like] comes around/ And it knocks you down/ Get back up/ When it knocks you down/ Knocks you down....

The plaster was only coming off my walls because I had anticipated the worst and the worst had not quite arrived. Yeah... Come to think of it, it was rather silly of me to think that he would admit to having his arms around another woman. And I actually articulated as much but I was more relieved for his denial than anything. He may have thought to be dismissive but as soon as he saw how I was not budging or smiling, he decided against it and adopted the ' you know I'm crazy about you' stance....

Exit Keri Hilson.
Enter the Cadbury man...
'...And all resistance crumbles...'

Dude! You telling me that I gots to get mad just so that this nigga can gimme some proper attention. Obviously I wasn't thinking all of that at the time. Unfortunately, rationality is hella sparse during times like these.

I don't know how but he managed to cast doubt over Ms Fabulous's observations. It's as logical as reckoning that she needs to get her eyes checked. He figures that he wouldn't be hollering at some girl if he knew Ms Fabulous was looking. He also spoke of how he appreciates me being in his corner and he wouldn't wanna mess that up.

Exit Cadbury Man.
Insert puppy dog eyes here.

That Friday night he drunk-dialled me and pretty much reiterated his words from the afternoon. Frankly we've heard these before... That he'll make it up to me (um, what's he gonna fix if he didn't do anything wrong... Oh for not telling the Mos Def chick to go fly a kite instead of 'tacitly' entertaining it) and he is gonna work harder at this. He said everything but declare his undying love. And when he called Saturday morning, he was well-aware of the late-night telecon. [insert RELIEF here]

I been giggly since.
[insert Lily Allen ENCORE here]

I dunno hey. I really don't. I like him so much that I'm being blind or rather, I'm choosing to turn a blind eye and make up excuses for days... That's some power he got over me...

I hope to goodness, I'm wrong about this dread and mistrust. To goodness. As much as I'd hate to be a fool, I'd hate to have to change the way I look at him more...

Day 73: Move on! Move up with Mr Spears!

You know this ain't the first time/ This has happened to me/ This love sick thing/ I like serious relationships/ And a girl like me don't stay single for long/ Coz when a boyfriend and I break up/ My world is crushed and I'm all alone/ The love bug crawls right back and bites me/ And I'm back... She can't help it/ She just can't help it/ Can't help it/ Jus can't help it...

It's funny how when you put yourself back on the on the market, you start to notice other people that you probably never really noticed before. They make you wonder why you ever removed yourself in the first place. Why you settled for less and more specifically, everything you ever promised to never be party to again? Why you volunteeringly put yourself in a straneous situation? After really beating yourself up about it, you finally get back on the horse and lo and behold, there's a welcoming committee.

I'm gonna say what I been saying since the beginning of the 180 day journey, I ain't looking to get involved but I ain't looking to get used either. Niggas take advantage of that. So I can't just be throwing it around. Maybe I should engage that non-exclusive dating that Ms Fabulous suggests. But truth is that I live for human connections. The real kind. They don't have to be really deep but simply delightful. Whenever you can laugh with somebody, connect with somebody, empathise... That's the human connection.

So what am I looking for in a man? I'm a sucker for a man that has an interest in the arts. Somebody who's face beams up in an art gallery or at a hot design... Hell, an appreciation for music especially the deeper stuff... Somebody who not only sees the complexity and simplicity of life but also appreciates it through plays, books, artsy fartsy movies and music. Somebody I can party with, laugh with, cry with, talk with.... I should be comfortable enough to do my wack booty hop around him. And not cringe when he rocks his own two-step. I should feel desired for my entire being, physical and religious and spiritual. Especially the last two.

I should look forward to being around him and when it happens, I should want it to never end. He should help me improve myself. Have that sort of self-appreciating effect without being overwhelming or obnoxious. Be wary of my sensitivities and hardcore, unintentional insensitivity. He must please be funny. I love to laugh. Carefree with a warped sense of the world.
He must be religious and spiritual. Aching for a higher calling. Understanding my proclivity to be celibate. He should feel free to touch my hair. Or hold my hand. Or share. Talk back! Stand for something, anything substantially.

Some fashion sense for goodness sake. Have an eye for beauty without being self-indulgent. Enjoy watching live cricket, footbabll, basketball. Willing to engage in my random spurts of energy. When I demand that you race me to the corner just because... you best saddle up and do it.

But please he must be able to say no coz I can be handful. It's all about balance, I guess. Well more balance than not.

Now for my favourite part and probably the first and last line of red tape for most guys.... Lol... The physical. Obviously not cut and dry.... Simply- tall, dark n handsome. Chocolate skin. A lil to some muscular definition. Flat stomach. Swag for days. Good fashion sense. Dope kicks. Cute, tight ass for his ass flattering jeans. Fitting shirts. Brush cut. Intoxicating Cologne. He best be able to handle his alcohol and shy away from getting trashed especially via drug abuse. Some humility coupled with confidence. Introspective n perceptive. Patient and kind. Likely to suprise me out of the blue. Listens. Able to apply his mind and look out for me. Feeling secure, I mean protected/safe, around him is hella important.

If this guy comes along, how can I possibly say no even though I ain't looking...

As for Shorty, I'm still waiting to get my stuff back. Haven't seen him all week. While FFB is looking less and less like an option. I'll pass. Now there's this other dude. Hella intelligent and intriguing. But unavailable and apparently a baby daddy despite his tiny wiener... I haven't seen it but I gots the info on good authority... Lets call him Lil Man... Let's see if he remains an extra in the background... Lover was tryna hook up... I haven't had the time or nothing plus this Shorty situation gots me feeling hella turned off men in general. Just as well. I been a lil guy crazy of late.

Day 71-72: Spear-o-damus

Whenever you are just about to go on your periods, life sorta colludes in making the PMS that much more potent.

My gal,Ms Fabulous,was kind enough to let me in on a little secret. Albeit five days later. As Mother Dearest would say, 'molato ga o bole'. The spelling is probably incorrect but the Tswana loosely translates into 'a problem never rots/goes bad no matter how long it's been there'. She often says it when we are watching a soapie or those Forgive and Forget type shows when the victim finally gets retribution or more specifically, the evil woman gets bust for all her plotting. The idiom couldn't be more fitting right now, with nearly a week having passed.



It turns out that Shorty was all cuddly-couple on Thursday at Mos Def. And I have a sneaky suspicion that this is the same short shorts Miss Thang from that one do we attended together, end of last month. Remember he disappeared for a minute. And had some cock n bull story to go with it.

On top of that, this chick was apparently using my digicam to snap pictures with him! So that would explain why he still hasn't returned the cam coz it's probably still filled with incriminating evidence. It's actually quite pitiful. Besides being filled with his indiscretions, the cam also probably has some dope pics of Thursday's performances... But this numb-nut can't begin to share these coz Miss Thang will probably wonder where the rest of the luvey-dovey pictures are.

Dirt of my shoulder. Finally the tongue-burn has occurred. About damn time. And again, thank goodness, I never gave it up. To think I felt bad for comforting FFB coz of his ailing aunt meanwhile, Mr Man is playing with my feelings. Ait. I been helping get his stuff together, offering some advice, only to be repaid like this.

But now that nigga got my shit. My camera. My charger and plug. My jersey. My lip-gloss. Lol... Dude, this would explain why he didn't want me to go fetch his phone when he had forgotten it in the car, on Sunday. His guilty conscious. I wouldn't have looked through it but I guess he would rather be safe than sorry. With my luck, it probably would've rang in my hands.

Now, I hate to say I told you so. But I did. I been saying that something's off. That I don't trust this nigga. Now I know. So my gut is working. Relief. Thank goodness it ain't paranoia. I really couldn't deal.

What's worse is that I'm apparently the other woman, [yet again! After specifically telling this nigga that I don't want drama. Ya neh. So much for respecting my quest for truth]. This chic is apparently widely known as his girlfriend. Classy. Poor chick. Poor me.

Yeah, that's enough self-pity. In fact, I ain't privy to any. I knew. I did. You probably knew too. I broke every rule of the how to tell that 'He's Just Not That Into You' list by listening to him claim to be digging me, missing me, trusting me... And most of all being single and tryna see where we go. I listened to him. Instead of my gut.

I'm tired. Absolutely exhausted. This nigga managed to play me despite my best intentions. So it is kinda like Paul again. In fact it is. I trusted somebody who is clearly not to be trusted. Dude! And how many times did I tell him that honesty is the single most important thing to me? Oh but he made so much effort to see me? Ms Fabulous says that playas get off looking as though they put in some effort. It ain't nothin but a thing to them. I'm easily impressed, clearly. I mean he saw this chic Thursday night only to call me the following day and hang with me that night. And Sunday night. He apologised for not doing so yesterday. Wow. And drive me home. And pick me up.

So now that we know he's triflin', do we call him and scream into the phone? Nah, not my style. Anger ain't a real emotion. I'm hurting. Down but not out. So I need to chill. This been going on for a minute so what's it gonna hurt to only voice my hurt later? Coz I may be nicer later? Nice ain't truth when I really just wanna hang him by his fat-ass.

Not my style either. Any guy that deserves to make you feel like literally killing him, doesn't deserve your time. You giving him way more attention than he deserves so walk away.

So my way of venting is blogging coz life will sort him out. It ain't my steez to teach a grown man. It took a lot for me to call him today and not call him a big fat liar. I played it cool and even cold but requested that he please bring my cam back coz I need it. Bull. He promised tomorrow. I just wanted to get off the phone quickly so it completely slipped my mind to ask him to drop my stuff off with security if he happens to go past the office tonight.

I'm not up to seeing him. I'm hella disgusted. The thought of second base is even having the opposite effect. Not even a lil smile.

So how am I gonna deal with this? If the opportunity presents itself, I'll tell him what I know and that I'm out. Either way, by reading this, he'll know that I'm done. Peace nucca!

Day 67-70: Frontin'

I often blog, hoping to locate a resolution within the text. Especially when I'm struggling to express myself verbally, I find that writing organises the con-fuss-ion.

It's pretty much in the same vein as when I teach my Sunday School kids. By explaining to them, I grasp the concept better. Writing amounts to explaining to the self. No wonder school teachers often insist on pupils summarising study material into their own words. Coz you figure more via that method...

Where am I going with this?
Dunno really. I'm just hoping to figure out the Easter weekend.

The last time I blogged, I thought that Shorty and I we're pretty much nearing the end of our lil escapade. In fact, I still haven't resaved his digits [just in case I turn out to be right, I guess].
The irony is that his digits now appear on my screen more than they ever did.

That translates into two things...
1. It's a wonder that I don't know his number off by heart by now. But honestly I'm making a concerted effort not to commit the last seven digits to memory. My eyes merely scan over them.
2. Somebody been reading the blog and stepped it up. Well, he admitted as much. But before we tackle that...

I was more than prepared to have to walk away. Well, my defences were/are up. And I was hella impressed with myself for having not gotten hectically physical with him. In over a month, in fact only recently, have we gotten as far as second base. That's huge for me. This whole thing is hugely different. But question is, is it good different or bad different? Now that he's putting in some effort, I really dunno what to think or feel. Does it really amount to effort or merely convenience? I mean it's not like he's going out of his way.

I don't think I like him any less but I'm still not sure if he really likes me period. Which makes me less enthusiastic. To the point where I wonder why he bothers.

Honestly I just have a wierd feeling that something's off. I only have this feeling. So I can't get serious or be serious about this. That would be dumb. I'll hang with the nigga but I ain't expecting the moon or stars. Just a good time. Like Carev [from Grey's] said, 'if it works out, great. If not, it's ok, I'll get over it. I always do!'

That pretty much sums up the past few days. I'm less than impressed by his inability to let me know when he's delayed or caught up. It feels disrespectful. In fact it reminds me of my hip hop ex. He simply was never aware of the time as far as I was concerned. In his head, it was ok to completely disregard my feelings and make me wait. Wtf? So I kicked him to the curb on numerous occasions after he pleaded for forgiveness on numerous occasions. In fact, I haven't spoken to that nigga since the beginning of the year.

Another thing that's of concern is Shorty's near discomfort around me. He ain't completely relaxed.


Oh, it tears me up/ I tried to hold on but it hurts too much/ I tried to forgive but it's not enough/ To make it all okay...
You can't play on broken strings/ You can't feel anything/ That your heart don't want to feel/ I cant tell u something that ain't real/ The truth hurts/ A lie's worse/ How can I give anymore/ When I (like) you a lil less than before...

And maybe that's the basis for my doubt. But how do I explain that or draw some answers out of him. Even though he claims to be reading this blog, he was not about to discuss it. And I was not about to push for that. He says he's a man of few words. I think he just doesn't want to hurt me. Yet, he's often said that if he didn't wanna hang out, he'd let me know... So I'm back at square one, wondering what am I missing? What is it that isn't adding up? My gut is screaming something but what?

Is he maybe still in love with an ex? [he still ain't comfortable with us holding hands. Um we make out and then act like a plutonic couple afterwards? Huh!] What? Hence my detachment. If I'm detached then whatever bombshell that's about to explode will be relatively harmless...

You know what's funny, by now, with any other guy, I'd be wondering if we are like boyfriend and girlfriend now. My head's not there now. I'm still getting my head around understanding Shorty. That's more than enough to deal with. Plus, I rather like this taking it slow thing. It's teaching me patience. And wouldn't you know, my cursing has decreased a lot except in cases of ecstasy lol. Seriously.

You know what would suck is if I found out he was seeing other people behind my back. Ya know, second basing with other girls. Maybe that's what's up...

Okay, I know that I may have portrayed a gloomy picture but really it could be worse. We are getting along well for the most part. He's actually hella humorous. Perhaps even a little more sarcastic than me. Who woulda guessed... I'm enjoying getting to know him without the pressure. It's just not as black and white as I'm accustomed to. But it's also not entirely whack. It's um- friendship with perks?

Day 66: The Curious Case of KP-Spears...

Like I was saying... It's like losing two things in one day... Boys come at a dime a dozen so I can get over Shorty... A cool job at a multi-national is proving to be a lil harder to swallow. Not because I really wanted the gig at this very time but coz it's exactly like a romantic scenario... Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl still deciding but allows it. Boy goes out with girl. Girl begins to like Boy. Boy changes mind. Boy leaves girl. Girl heartbroken.

She wasn't really checkin for him. And now her plans are a lil haphazard now that it's over. But really, the retraction of the job offer amounts to such relief coz I really was so torn about which step to take... Now I ain't gotta decide... So Three words... SUCK IT UP! And forget the pay hike! There's a bigger plan... Door closed and another opened behind you. Now stop staring at the closed door and look around! Harder to apply, I know... But I know that the Script-Writer is one hella creative guy... And he has some sorta plan. He always does. That's the thing about good times... Even, they pass.

This is the part where you JUUUUST deal. I had yet another dosage of thought-provoking cinema today. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button left my soul reeling. All through that movie, I either cried or I thought to myself, how fortunate I am. It's a wonder that I don't consciously recognise every moment coz every single day the Script-Writer BEEN reminding me how good I got it.


Benjamin was born old. All wrinkly. He was born only to be expected to die of natural causes. Out of the womb into a death bed. And even though he appeared to be as old as the hills, he was only jus a boy inside. So a forced old soul. Or rather he was born to be an old soul... Or he was one through and through and his physicality just showed his insides in a sense. As he got older, he started to look younger. His features softened up and his hair got thicker. [Speaking of which, can I just say the Brad Pitt is the single hottest, most enchanting man, that side of the hemisphere....] So he started to look really really young. There's a scene where he looks like a college freshman but his eyes show that he's been through a lot and that he has sucha story to tell but his physicalities, again, don't reflect that. And I felt that frustration. That's probably one of the few moments that one is content with ageing but because of their physicalities, they can't help but feel the exact opposite. Nobody really embraces age for the very reasons that made Benjamin feel estranged and different. Now that was a solid Old Soul moment. Then he got to his early teens stage, acne and all but his memory was fading. And he said, 'I feel as though I should be remembering something...' now that had me bawling... All the way to the end. It was one of those, it's better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. Or in this case, is it better to have lived than not to have experienced the curiosity that is life? Right at the end when the love of his life is now old and he has been reduced to a baby, she says that he looked her in the eyes and for the first time in a long time, she could see that he remembered their life together. And then he closed his eyes...for the last time. [insert flooding here... Ironically, the movie was also experiencing a hurricane]

I've always thought that babies have this thing. They know much more than they realise... Well, they know more than they would be able to articulate or even remember to share when they are eventually able to verbally express themselves. They often give you a knowing look and now I have a word for it... that was a 'Benjamin' moment.

So I finally got home. And then Shorty texted. I still haven't resaved his digits. Needless to say that I recognised them. Dammit! He claimed to be thinking of me. Yho Mr Smooth... Needless to say that he soften me up nicely... He hadn't been able to get the digicam earlier coz the newsroom had me running around in circles [which I absolutely loved! I'd rather be busy than be dealing with Heartbreak Hotel nonsense!] and my phone was on silent and so I missed all thirty thousand of his calls. By the time I had returned them, he was gone. But now he still needed the cam so we provided for another pick-up before the Easter weekend... What the hell am I doing? Oh... He did fail the test... Well, technically its not his fault coz the guy that hooked him up only had an extra one. I found it hilarious the way he explained the scenario considering I had merely asked if he was gonna be attending the Mos Def gig. I got more than a yes which made me think that he may be reading this blog... Ha ha... Or he just figured it out himself... Man, I'm obvious!

Again what am I doing? Oh Lover is alive and well.......... Nuff said about that subject the better... Coz we clearly got some spies up in this piece!

Day 64-65: What I Can't or Won't see...

Life is one big fat bitter-sweet moment. Often what tastes so good, can turn around and leave your mouth reeling. It's like chewing on that ol skool Wicks Bubblegum. It's all pink, sugary and gooey... Slippin n slidin all over the inside of your mouth. You basically chew your life away but it's not enough to keep it the gum in one spot so can't really feel that sweetness... And then the worst happens, just when you are getting the hang of it, your tongue gets in the way right in the middle of biting down hard... It's so sore that that the gum is now the worst thing you've ever had in your mouth... The absolute worst.... And you quickly spit it out, hoping that the pain will quickly subside. It finally does but now you have a gaping gash on your tongue. A reminder that you should've just taken your time.



Same goes for tongue burns. There's absolutely no good reason for them coz the very food that you were rushing to devour won't taste as good because your genetic taster is under going severe burns therapy. But all too often, I'll burn my tongue with tea just because I hate the taste of cold, even mildly warm, tea. Even at the expense of my super rockin tongue... Just this morning, I couldn't brush too hard over a certain spot....

My point is that I'm not so good with learning lessons. Even when I know that I'm in the middle of a tongue burning exercise, I'll still be hoping that the hot ham and melted mozarella won't scald my tongue even though I'm well aware that that's exactly what a freshly toasted sandwich does best.

It's almost as though, I prefer just finding out for sure... every single time! Isn't that insanity?!.... Like those women in the movie I watched today. 'HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU' made me remember what I always knew... That hot tea and Bubaloo bubblegum should be tackled at the consumer's own risk. Same goes for love. So maybe it is all fair in love [and war]. Haven't decided on the latter though.

Time for the truth. I really don't think that Shorty likes me all that much. At least not enough. I may have alluded to it in previous blogs but now my whole being is nodding in agreement and singing 'Praise Hallelujah!'.

Funny thing is that as I was typing this blog, he called... quick digression...

[I think I have some powers of some sort that make it possible to WILL him over. Earlier, just before the movie, I left the office for Nouveau. Once at the front of the line, after queuing for over 15 minutes, I realised that my massive handbag is carrying everything but my dam purse. So I call 'Alicia Keys' at the office, she has a look around and lo and behold, she spots it on one of the work desks. So I tell the cashier my situation and he promises me a free pass to the front ofthe line upon my return. I rush back to the office, get my purse but now I gots to pee. Been holding it in for a minute and in my rush to the cinema, I had avoided going to the toilet as not to waste any time and not be late for yet another movie. And as I sat on the toilet seat, I thought to myself... why are all these d8iversions happening? is the scriptwriter planning for me to bump into Shorty? "Oh hush, that's not possible, I thought to myself. Stop dreaming!" I thought to myself. So I grabbed my stuff and left. And as I'm saying goodbye at the door, he walks in. My heart stops. We exchanged a greeting and I left. oh he looked soooooo good! Anyway, I called him en route back to the cinema. He sounded less than excited. And I was happy that I had not bothered to shower him with attention just to be tacitly rejected. I'm feeling hella vunerable at the moment and I figure I gots to build up my defences.]

If he wasn't on MTN then I probably would not have recognised his number coz during the movie screening, I deleted every inch of him from my phone. So he calls right and I think to myself 'oh my gosh, I could be wrong about this one'... So I crossed my fingers and listened as he went into how he had called to check up on me and all that... At this point, I like a lil baby, all goo-gaa-gaa... Lovin the luv... The glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel! And then it went all dark again when... he asked me what time I'm coming in tomorrow. Now I'm thinking, he wants to come see me! Oh my gosh! But I kept it together... 'Why?' I asked coolly, keen to suppress any pre-mature joy...

And boy was it uncalled for coz he only wanted to know if he can borrow my digicam for the Mos Def press con tomorrow. I fought the urge to ask him if that was his sole intention for calling. A part of me is wishing that I had just asked but after the tense weekend and Monday [we fought about me being way too crude and rude after I made a comment about his dodgy looking friend on Saturday. Yho, he was basically screaming at me. Twas hectic. Yesterday, I thought for sure that he was gonna tell me that we should quit hangin out. He told me to cool it though. He says I'm the one complicating things. Right. Coz I'm the only one in this hey. I nearly walked away myself. But I kept my words to a minimum and let him blow his fuse. What came out of it is that we should be patient with each other and I should curb my vulgarity] that we had, I guess I'm hoping to be wrong about him one more time. Clearly I didn't get the premise of the movie. Or the very lesson at the beginning of this text.

Besides, I have one clear cut way of figuring this out. He has two tickets to the event on Thursday. Question is will he invite me? A no means curtains. A yes could mean a possible winner. My gut is telling me to be prepared for a huge disappoint. And after this weekend and yesterday, I'm about ready to be set free from the chains of this thing. Honestly coz I'm missing the good vibes. There's more bad than good and because of it, I ain't feeling the way I should. My gut is screaming 'run!'. My eyes are saying but 'He's so cute, don't be an idiot.' Oh well. We'll see what the future holds... Either way, I'll be ait. Maybe losing two things in one day is just ok.

Day 60-63: what now?!

The past few days have been hella taxing. Personally and professionally. Good and bad. The day after April Fools Day marked the end of a very dramatic two months. None of what has transpired on the road to 180 Days ever occurred to me as a possibility. Not even a remote one.

Before we tackle the present and what the remaining 120 may bring, let's recap...Lol!

So I broke up with my boyfriend at the beginning of the year, only to keep in contact well into the end of January. Cut off the communication on the day before I began this hot internship which was sure to be my ticket to a successful radio career (but I quickly realised that it wouldn't be as smooth a ride).

So there I was, competing for top honors with eleven other eager beavers at work and completely cut off from my ex-soul-mate. Ok maybe not completely but we certainly don't talk as much as we used to. Not even a fraction. Recently, it's hardly ever, which is good considering that by the second week of February, somebody new had caught my eye.

It was not the plan but a few niggas had caught my eye. From a light-skinned cutie at a campus radio staff party who managed to screw up my Valentine's Day with his 'ex'-gf drama to the excruciating baby-momma drama of an unavailable chocolate brotha with the sweetest, most sensitive n compassionate persona that I've ever seen. Sexual chemistry for days! Needless to say, Lover had to do him so I did me!

Even with my right arm in a sling, the world been to just shower me with excitement and I quickly shrugged off the tears for Lover. FFB (Footsie Footsie Boy) started to holla in between some fancy footwork. And so did a range of other men who were or are seemingly just interested in a fresh shag. And for that very reason, they are not worth a mention or a holla back.

Now you may wonder why there's hardly any mention of work. Honestly it was not half as exciting. Yes, I was in the thick of things, being inside the machine is nothing like being part of the machine. I'm learning all the technicalities but I really just wanna be a technicality! That's all I'm dying to do... Be on air again! So please don't think that I'm obsessed with the opposite sex coz quite the vice-versa is true... ha ha... And boy is it an ego-trippin experience...

But I'm hardly all about ego rubbing. Niggas come at a dime a dozen... Atleast that's what my head thinks... My heart is a lil more stubborn about accepting that notion.

So before FFB could up his game, Shorty entered the picture. During Lover's last days, Shorty had been an extra, somewhere in the background, quick to greet with nothing much to say. Once Lover was out the picture, Shorty quickly became a front-runner despite his dodgy pick-up lines... Out of nowhere, there was this affinity between us during the beginning of March. As much as I thought that my bleedin' heart was being provided with the best get-out-of-jail free card, I quickly realised that this convenience came with complications despite his single status.

In between his alleged ex-fling drama, psycho chick 'friends' and take-it-slow nonchalance, I struggled to figure if we were coming or going. I was also introduced to the world of delayed physical intimacy. Wow! So how do you tell if he likes you? You can't really! Well not in the typical way. Only way to say is by him spending time with you, I guess and perhaps his word. Faith, really. It's like believing in God. It's blind faith and probably the most terrifyingly naive n in depth.

My career has also been asking for some faith. A job offer has me reeling. It's a tremendous opportunity to infiltrate Marketing, an industry that I've always been fascinated in. But I'm wondering if I should pounce on it or not considering that I want to be on air! Will it be a lil detour or a blessing? I dunno. But I always figured that if an offer came through than God expects me to take it coz he provided it. He knows I wouldn't be able to say no. He knows that I wouldn't know what to do...

Short of Him talking to me... Directly... I really dunno but I'ma go with the above. It will be hard to leave but new adventures await... I was supposed to give an answer on Friday already but they have yet to furnish me with the contract terms. Plus, with the elections coming up, the interns been deployed to the newsroom after a hectic Saturday workshop which saw one of the interns, 'Alicia Keys' spit fire at the news boss, much to his disgust! It's pretty much down to eleven now.



I'm hoping that even if I leave, I'll still be granted an opportunity to go on air but what the chances... What am I losing out on here? That's the gamble! You dunno what you got til its gone...

Another possible loss could come in the form of Shorty. He ain't too happy with my attitude and demands an adjustment. I don't like to believe astrology but the claims surrounding the dynamics between an Aries man-FIRE and a Pisces woman-WATER, kinda explain why fight so much... To be contd...

Day 59: Sinful...

Today I auditioned for the newsreader position. And even went to the music committee meeting... Aah something to do... So I was glad to be a little constructive. It beats fighting the urge to pull my hair out. It beats dealing with the funny looks. It beats engaging in long-winded, unproductive skinner sessions. I'm done with that. So much so that it feels as though my brain is turning to mush.

I haven't written an article in so long. And when I do try, I only get as far as trying to apply all the stuff that I've been taught. Instead of applying the instincts of a God-given talent, I'm using my brain. A mind that's been, for the most part, jaded. I'm no longer the writer I was.... Um... Of cos I am but I'm having trouble balancing what comes easiest to me and the awesome lessons I've learnt. Price of immaturity or maybe 'WE DON'T NEED NO EDUCATION!'... Maybe somebody else's lessons are merely that... SOMEBODY ELSE'S... I mean who taught that person and the person before... Sorry I'm sounding like those philosophical stoner rebels without a cause... Not the intention... Just saying though....

Because of Shorty's unavailability, I had planned on going to a movie but he left hella late so I couldn't catch one... As I'm walking past the local watering hole, I see FFB and some other mutual acquaintances. He's keen to keep me company til nine so we hang. His plan is to blunt and get crunk... Not just coz that's what he does on a regular basis but also to lessen his hurt. His aunt aka second mom is literally on her death bed. So he's in a state plus work is hectic.... The timing couldn't be worse. And he ain't so good with sharing those kinda feelings... My heart bled for him.... Even when he was poppin pills... Dude!

I dunno hey... Where the hell am I... Where people are doing drugs... Willy nilly... Like it ain't no thing... Am I gonna become like that? Is this what they call the fast life in Jozi? I ain't keen then...