Day 57-58: oh goodness...

You know when you like somebody so much that you sorta gag after talking to them coz you are so sure that you made an utter fool of yourself during that lil conversation. Or when they call at night and they are brazen enough to figure, out loud, that they are the reason for your insomnia. On the flip side, you cleverly realise that besides them being aware of how absolutely smitten you are, their call also indicates that they may be suffering from a similar affliction because of a lil thing called you... That's when your tummy gets tied up into so many knots that you wanna sit on it, somehow and squash those damn butterflies. You're certain that you could literally pass out from experiencing this overwhelming emotion... But then you realise that it's just gas... Once that's passed... You go back to wishing he was there, kissing you, holding you, talking, laughing, staring... Then your toes curl in... You think back to that earlier conversation... And the gag reflex kicks in...
It's a vicious, highly contradictory cycle which makes you wish, with much hesitation, that the situation would just plateau so that you may ultimately be able to get some sleep.

Why am I so shy around you/ Why am I so shy/ Why do I take care to astound you/ Why do I even try...

Shorty finds it incredulous that I, so dope and hella interesting, feels that way about him. Which is hella humbling coz I feel that way about him. Every time I expect him to tune me some story about me coming on too strong or suffocating him, he doesn't. Or the worst thing that a man can say, 'I'm not ready for a relationship.' He even says our hand-holding feels natural. Yes, he says all the right things... [insert deep, long, heavy sigh here]... And yet I doubt...

Today, I was labelled a playa by one of the fellow interns. She and some other dude starting counting all the guys with whom I've ever shared a hug (only two have really gotten more). But the truth is, It makes no difference to me if ten guys dig me at once coz much of the time, my definition of 'dig' is usually a lil different from theirs. Being objectified sucks. Its the price of beauty. The price of lust. The price of being a woman really. And it only just adds to our paranoia and mistrust of men in general. It's funny how I understand that from my point of view but I struggle when I try see it from where Shorty is standing.

Side-thought: I dunno where I'm going with this... So maybe I should just start with Monday...

His wicked sense of humour/ Suggests/ Exciting sex/ His fingers/ They focus on her/ Touches/ Venus as a boy... He believes in beauty/ He's Venus as a boy...
He's exploring/ The taste of her/ Arousal so accurate/ He sets off/ The beauty in her/ He's Venus/ Venus as a boy...

Ok that was the last digression...
My memory is a lil hazy but Shorty took me home coz car-pool-dude was off sick. Plus he had to make it up to me, right... Another session on the road in traffic.... And before I knew it, we were pullin up to my crib....

Tuesday began before dawn at an Outside Broadcast in Soweto. Once back at the office, there was nil to do so I went in search of physiotherapist. Oh and some deo.... Just before heading to my 1 'o clock at my former employer. They won't be giving me the other position but a marketing co-ordinator position. Dope! Slight problem, they are keen for me to start, like yesterday. But wait, what about my radio dream... Mm... Dunno hey...

Day 54-56: Weekend tremors... Part II

This weekend, Shorty screwed up. So bad that I feel as though trusting him would be hella naive....

On Friday, we were at some event together and hotdamn did he look good. So good that he made my outfit look wack! Lol! This is crazy. Anywho, some chick in her short shorts, heels and curly-sue braids was clearly hollering at him. Pulling him by the hand. Grinding on him. Now this brought back memories of my MBA ex at the Wordsworth Party People last year. That night really changed the vibe of our thang or rather, more accurately, I woke up and finally read the 'IT'S BEEN OVER' sign. [Which would explain why I ain't keen to holla back at him coz it took me a minute to get over his stunts.] Technically, I couldn't get mad coz we were glorified friends with benefits. He couldn't or rather wouldn't deal with having a 'girlfriend' and having to be responsible for someone else's feelings' [insert a blood curdling 'HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU' here!]

So yeah, I knew as much and to see deja-vu in action in broad-daylight, I was about to have a BF for real. Armed with liquid courage, I pulled him to the side and asked him wtf with sheer vindication on the outside and sheer dread on the inside.

I half-expected him to tune that he ain't gotta explain nothin to me. He saved me the embarrassment but his dismissive reaction was equally as icy. 'Don't worry about that. That's what people do around here!'

Ya neh! Next thing, he's gone off somewhere and this new Miss Thang is also MIA! [Plus, I'm left to babysit his friend who was hella cute, might I add. Chocolate skin and all... But Shorty got me checkin for nobody else really....] My blood began to boil... Mind you, I gots to go home with this nigga.... Aaaaaargh! Typical!

When he finally returned he claimed to be getting some takeaways for his fam. I was hella sceptical.... But then he smiled at me reassuringly... And when he touched me, I melted like a gullible fool. We drove home in some Adele-fied ambience (he liked my gift, he was hella floored that I got him the album for his bday) and our parting shot was our SECOND kiss. About dam time! Lol. This is a lot of work.

The following day, the plan was to hit yet another gig but my cousin's parents' pending divorce had her in a state so she wasn't about to come out. Lil Sis figured I should tell Shorty to come get me. I hate asking for such stuff. Being the typical chic, waiting to be picked up by her man. I've never wanted my own ride so badly! Needless to say he didn't respond to my text or calls. I was livid all the way into Sunday morning when he finally called.

He had some or other excuse. And to distract me, he also mentioned how one of my fellow interns, cornered him on Saturday night, telling him that he must tell me what he really wants. Huh!? Dude! I had not even sent her. Not impressed coz I doubt it came from a genuinely compassionate space. She was on some sabotage tip. Or am I paranoid!? It's jus hella strange. Anyway... He promised to make it up to me by coming over, after dropping off his lil sister, in the afternoon.

The afternoon came and went, my excitement came and went... and during the cricket just when we thought SA was about to be handed her ass in a nail-biting Pro-20 game, he finally called or rather drunk-dialled me. Fun! And again, I couldn't be mad. Fuuuuuuuuck! But I did try state my case. He said he'd make it up to me....um...make it up to me for failing to make it up it me?! How about no more promises!? "whatever. Clearly I can't trust you." I said, hoping that I hadn't hurt him too much with such piercing words.... Can you believe it?!

I tried to be mad. I tried to state my case.
I tried.
I still feel stoopid. But I still feel him.
If its fucked, so be it. And may it end soon.

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 53: The Morning After The Night Before...

I've been meaning to discuss this but other facets of my life been rather pressing.... But here it is... Finally...

For the most part, the Thursday lectures are the highlight of my week from an academic point of view. Today, the topic of subconscious crutches perked my interest. I know I 'um' and 'er' alot. Hardly ever in general (I think) but especially on air. It's the price of being ill-prepared when you switch on that red light...

It's also the plight of my approach. I take on radio, in the same manner that I would take on writing. Raw, uneducated and hella ignorant. Now that I'm learning all these various techniques, I'm starting to wonder if I'm up to it... Perhaps even my writing skills need some refinement. I mean even the grandest of singing talents take voice-coaching lessons.

This self-doubt isn't as bad as it was a month ago but it's still as frustrating as the urge to pee. The difference between writing and radio is that the lil gems that I create can be edited and refined when doing the former but with the latter, if you flub it up once, you're done. You must get it right every time. It's no longer funny on your second attempt.

As much as I think that scripting an entire three-hour show would make things run smoother, I'm really not all that acquainted with my wit and sense of humour. I even suprise myself and laugh at myself.... [Like Weezy would say, 'I should throw myself a suprise party for every line'] 'Oh, you're hilarious', I'll say to myself... Nine times out of ten the really funny stuff is not planned and when it is, it's not nearly as ticklish. So I can't script coz my organised-humour sucks balls! Yes, I haven't tried but not the point right now!

Wait... actually, come to think of it, when I write articles, I'm hella funny... And for the most part, an article is 'planned' ie done in advance. It's not like they publish the very first draft that very day, that very moment as you write it. So maybe scripting is just lil articles in one.... Mm... I just had an aha-moment whilst typing this. With this blog, I always publish the first draft and edit it here and there. But mostly grammar and such, hardly ever chunks of text. I think a different approach maybe needed for the on-air product. Shorty figures the scripting does not have to be hella detailed. Key-words may work better. I concur. Maybe a mixture of both. Coz most of the time with scripts, whatever you plan to say, you never do. That on-air button throws you right off. But maybe in between the 'ums', I'll remember the prep and do it some justice.

Well, I'm gonna freak out, maybe I should try meditation instead....

Goodness I'm so excited about going on air soon. I'm hella keen to not only prove myself but also apply what I've learnt...

Last week, we were encouraged to research our listeners and also go figure what makes you distinct, unique, different! Everyone can back-announce, id the station and ride off a 'good radio voice' but really what makes you stand out from that 'I WANNA BE ON RADIO' crowd??!

Armed with a pen, I picked the brains of Lil Sis, Ma, my cousin, some fellow interns, Shorty and FFB (writing out 'Footsie-Footsie Boy' takes forever! Yes, I'm well-aware that the acronym amounts to BFF backwards. How appropriate. Shame that nigga is dope! Too bad he says he ain't tryna be friends coz I think we could totally be best buddies! Oh well...)

Once I got the feedback, I compared it to my own list of the things I reckon I'm good at. Um... Not many people said 'funny'. Hella disappointing. Instead straight-forward, assertive, opinionated, self-absorbed came up....
Nice... So the listeners are gonna love to hate me!

Saw Shorty yet again. We went, or rather, he went shopping again and I tagged along... but more about that later. We didn't kiss. Goodness, we didn't even hug. Like I've said before, this is like high school luvin'! I won't be suprised if we don't kiss again until next month. Ok ok I'm probably pushing it.... But I'm jus saying though...

A mutual girl friend of ours apparently hit the roof when she saw an fb message that I had sent him. She claimed me to be 'her territory' thus he should stay away. Funny coz she BEEN dating my ex on some clandestine tip. So why the hell is she catching feelings!? Actually, we long figured that she BEEN feelin Shorty for a minute... Like most psychos do... Never a dull moment in that nigga's life!

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!