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!?