Day 139-153: Untitled.

I've always thought it to be such a cop-out when artists can't just name their products. I've always found the use of the term 'untitled' to be the unnecessary pretence of so called 'depth' within the arts. And here I am, using the very same word. how hypocritical. Truth is, it's been a minute since I last blogged so I finding it difficult to reduce the past fortnight into a silly phrase especially since the 180 Days are drawing to an end. So In spite of my being conscious that I may be thinking emotionally because of my PMS, I now see how artists may feel that a title, in its simple words, fails to honor the experience, whether good or bad. If anything, the words disrespect it by being so shallow. And that's where the depth of thought lies. Well, if writers felt so strongly about everything, they would probably never write. Hence writer's block. The insistence on the perfect translation. And that's why film was created...

That just dawned on me now... Speaking of which... Let's recap... With the radio internship winding down, I'm happy to say I'm creating the best radio of my life. My links are short and punchy and fun and cool... although I gots to work on my um's and er's and slickness... but for the most part, I really believe that I'm sounding better than ever. I even received my first batch of hate mail, thanx to the internet humour surrounding MJ's passing. Now you know what they say, you ain't ish until you've got haters. I've finally relaxed enough to allow the real me to come out through my radio links. And for me that's the biggest accomplishment. I'm hopin that they gimme a proper on-air gig once the internship is over. I'm do my darnest to make it happen. If only there were enough hours in the day because since my new job, my radio endeavours have taken a beating... which makes me wonder... what is it that I really want? Could I possibly be biting of my nose to spite my face? Should I be concentrating on my radio gig especially as the gig draws to an end or concentrate on my new gig because of the latter?

As far as my new job is concerned... I just started at a TV production company on this brand new show. Unlike my previous TV gig... I work on content full-time now. I would prefer to be writing scripts and have far more control over content but they say that will come. Quite a bit goes into a TV show and I'm learning quite a bit. Very exciting to be part of something that has so much potential.

As far as Cutie is concerned... It's plenty deja-vu. Dating without the intimacy and titles. Like where do I meet these 'different' niggas that are commitment-phobic with trunks of baggage? Seriously? Is this God's way of telling me to stay away from the opposite sex. or is the Script-Writer outta ideas? I mean like attracts like... If these niggas be on that tip then clearly I ain't ready for a relationship either but then why am I so convinced of the opposite. How come I feel that I can be with one dude.. and make it work?! And yet I keep hitting a brick-wall by connecting with niggas that make me want to fall in love and be with them when they aren't so keen to do the same... What the hell is going on?

What I do know for sure is that beyond these niggas hold the key to my personal-development... I think... well, I hope... there's gots to be some sorta convoluted reason for all this drama... In which ever capacity. I wouldn't be able to deal with Cutie if I hadn't dealt with Shorty. But maybe I would prefer to not have had to deal with either dude... as much as I love zinging with new dude... I can't stand ll the drama! Can't I just meet a normal dude that digs me back and wants me without any hesitations or a haunting past!? Cumon already!

As far as my career is concerned... I just started at a TV production company on this brand new show. Unlike my previous TV gig... I work on content full-time now. I would prefer to be writing scripts and have far more control over content but they say that will come. Quite a bit goes into a TV show and I'm learning quite a bit. Very exciting to be part of something that has so much potential. And boy are we working hard to unleash it...

what else... I got as ride but I can't drive it coz I don't have a driver's license... lol...come to think of it... it's very much like dating somebody that you can't kiss and you can't call your boyfriend. Imagine all the pent up frustration! Dammit! I ain't about to return my car, instead, I'ma work at getting the right papers... is that how one should deal with Cutie? Get me some papers? the cred? the qualification? Earn the respect perhaps? Show my commitment? mm...

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 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 54-56: Weekend tremors...

I've never been a fan of the initial stages of THE MAN-WOMAN BOOGIE, simply because everything is so fragile. It's like wearing your heart on your sleeve and hoping that your beau doesn't notice. Two reasons. You don't want him to get freaked out by any slight detection of how hectic your feelings may be. This is not Hollywood! You can't be fallin within 85 minutes. You wanna look cool but not disinterested. You wanna look interested but not psycho. It's plenty juggling. And feelings are bound to get hurt coz at the end of the day, it's a matter of two strangers attempting diplomatic romance.

Shorty takes my breathe away. As cliche as that sounds, he still makes me think before I speak and I'm irrationally worried that he can't possibly dig me at all. Never mind as much as I dig him. In my eyes, I ain't nearly as intoxicating or interesting or beautifully complex and strangely simple as he is. In fact, I don't feel like I'm good enough for him. He can do better. And I wouldn't be surprised if he figures as much. Now the rational me figures that those are clearly the crazy rhetorics of a cupid-struck loser. The Kimora in me knows that he best be in awe of me coz not many niggas are lucky enough to get this close but she says this in a rather meek n not-so-fabulous voice.

Just like a star across my sky/ Just like an angel off the page/ You have appeared to my life/ Feel like I'll never be the same/ Just like a song in my heart/ Just like oil on my hands...

It's so bad, I don't wanna be mad at him for nothing. I'm so whipped. And I'm pissed about it.

Ok anger is not a real emotion so I'm truly fearful of being so into him that when he does disappoint me, I'll hurt so bad. It'll rip at my insides and hang them on a washing line [dunno where that imagery came from...sorry].

The last time I felt this way was early last year with my ex. I was so scared of 'losing' him, I broke up with him twice to halt my over-flowing emotions. It really annoyed me! Or rather made me feel too good. So good it terrified me... If that makes sense...

Day 52: OMG!

Pay-day has one hella effect! We all wanna drink as though we'll never be broke again. So I invited everyone to a SLING-OFF drinks session. Only because I would be leaving the Zone quite late so it would be the perfect way to pass the time.

Little did I know that removing my sling would have such an effect on Footsie-Footsie Boy. He wouldn't stop staring and even though he had not planned on staying for drinks, he did. And boy did it get 'OUTTT-CONTROL'! Worst or best of all, Shorty also stayed for a coupla hours before leaving early. Before he bounced though, I was checking fb like any regular addict would do when I noticed that yet another one of Shorty's people had commented under his status update. I had began the status debate earlier by asking why he insists on talking in the third person. Five other people responded likewise.... Much to my and probably his suprise... So I commented that it was not my intention to get some sorta intervention started... This new comment that had just came in, con-fuss-ingly had nothing to do with the issue at hand. Instead, it accused Shorty of sending blank texts. Is there something wrong with your phone, she enquired, grasping at straws. I didn't recognise the name and Shorty confirmed it to be Miss Thang. I had to LOL coz for the first time during this whole saga, her psycho status had been made official. Her comment, only sought to create drama and I'm thankful that she's way too retarded to figure that she voluntarily advertised her kookiness and inadvertantly flushed any mistrust towards Shorty from my mind... If she was being legit, she would've been discreet and not post something publicly, clearly meant for my eyes!

The story quickly became old... Phew!... and Shorty and I rejoined the conversation at the table... Well, I did. He was hella quiet. Near uncomfortable. I was not suprised when he announced his early departure... I was not happy about it and I said as much without really wanting to get into a fight...

And then it happened... As we were heading to his car, he took my hand and led me up some deserted stairs...

*This can't really be happening...*

Then we stopped...

*Oh my gosh, it is about to happen...*

And it did... He pulled me close and for the first time, physically recognised my body... Ok it didn't even get PG, nor did it last long.... We just kissed... Finally! It was so surreal... And gentle and delicate... AND HELLA OVERDUE! ...And everything I hadn't expected.... He took me completely by suprise... I BEEN ready to make out, I'm glad he finally hopped onto that train...
'So the hairstyle did the trick', he joked. You dam skippy it did!

Back at the restaurant, yet another one of Footsie-Footsie Boy's wingmen put in a good word for him. This time it was his cousin. Ha ha! I think that such loyalty is so adorable coz he had crossed the tipsy line, a while back and wasn't about to impress me with any stoopid or slurred speech! Although, I appeared to be encouraging it by reacting to his crazy utterances... So we ended up fighting like an ol married couple... In hindsight, not my best moments...

He was, however, able to walk me to the car. And I took the opportunity to fill him in on the Shorty situation. On the surface, he took it well... I mean I didn't get accused of leading him on or anything of a sort that I thought maybe thrown at me. He also, didn't even begin to sling mud at the competition even in after smoking that blunt...

What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man... He also reckoned he'd be over it by morning.... Negro please! To soften the blows, I may have made it look as though I might be able to still make movies tomorrow. When really, I had already made up my mind but he only needed to know that tomorrow. I ain't keen to look like a player. In anybody's eyes. Lest we forget that I wasn't checkin to get involved in the first place... Wow... Such drama! Yho!