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.