Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
A change is gonna come, and so it did.
I just want to congratulate all of you who Baracked the vote!
Please don't think that because he's a black man, that he'll be drinking a 40 ounce in a brown paper bag, wearing long socks in adidas sneakers and liming with a "boom box" outside of the white house gates.
What I mean is, the man is here to serve the people as best he can, don't get mad because he doesn't give hand outs to all black people or think that he's going to go easy on people because they are black.
YES WE DID!!!!
Friday, 31 October 2008
This is Rihanna and Neyo all over again. You know 'hate that I love you'.
so this is my solution for tonight, I plug in my external hard drive, turn up the volume and listen to some dancehall. Pour myself a glass of El Dorado, and enjoy the quiet and darkness of my house.
Have I mentioned that I've gotten a puppy. Right now he's about 6weeks old, weaned from his mother, but used to being with many other dogs. I'm guessing that he's a bit lonely, which I'm also guessing is why he's body slamming my door like a WWF wrestler. But he has to learn the harsh realities of life, I will not be around to play with him all the time. So I'm letting him bawl for the time being, until I can get him a friend to play with. I don't want him to become too dependant on me.
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
on fridays it's usually 'dress down'. but the people in my workplace take it too far. i walked into the office last week and was greeted by the receptionist in a bright green t-shirt and green flipflops with capri style baggy jeans. um???
then there was the girl all decked out in a camo green 3/4 tight enough for yeast to grow pants and a wife beater. um?
so i have put up a dress code that is sure to raise eyebrows and have eyes cut at me, but guess what? i wasn't hired to be liked, i was hired to ensure that the news gets out on time and is properly edited.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Monday, 29 September 2008
Now depending on the circumstances of how the questions might arise, I could be persuaded to answer and not be annoyed. For instance last night a friend and I happened to be talking about Dengue and I mentioned that someone I used to be involved with had cursed me out when I’d been rather happy, not so much to have survived Dengue but to have lost some weight because of it. She then asked me about him, and I answered as best I could.
However…… I am fed up, seriously fed up of people asking me questions about someone I was once involved with. I say involved because when I was asked how long me and said person were together I said ‘we were never together’ but then I told her how many years anyway. Generally I have stopped answering that question because while I used to think that we were "together" from point A to point B, please note that there are people who believe that aluminium foil will protect them from small green men who want to push metal rods up their asses.
This is a very private blog, there aren’t many people who know of its existence, and I don’t tend to use it to send messages, but in this case I think I have to.
So this part of the post is dedicated to you, person I was once involved with, if you still peruse this blog from time to time that is.
Please, and I am pleading on my knees right now (and you know this usually wouldn’t happen unless we were both naked and within rather close proximity to each other) that you write a memo about your personal status and send it off to all media houses, so that people will stop asking me questions. All I’m saying is that if I keep being made to answer questions I’m going to get angry and when I get angry I get "ignant", any semblance of tact that I have will go right out of the door. Before you start getting huffy and puffing up your chest, THIS IS NOT A THREAT, all I’m saying is that I might just chip off and say some shit that might end up tarnishing your public profile (not personal anything about you or me...I would never do that…but just "ignant" shit).
These are the main questions that people seem to want answers to:
1. Is he with/still with that queen of all Camden Park skettels, who "it is rumoured" has slept with the world and their father, including a close relative of his? (if the answer is yes, then, ‘ew’ but it is not my business)
2. Is he engaged to the above mentioned skettel?
3. How does he like his job/how is he doing?
· Also people keep asking me if I still love you. Well DUH! You can’t be involved with someone for such a length of time and not have them leave an imprint on your heart; well I can only speak for myself. But what the hell are they getting out of asking me that?
Not that I think you give a rats ass about me and my peace of mind, but please would you let your fan club in on your business because I’m tired of people asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to.
No, this is not some childish amateur dramatics production of "Please come back to me". While this could have been sent via email, I’d rather not have that kind of contact with you. We haven’t spoken in months and the way things went last time it doesn’t seem to me that we will be on speaking terms in the near future if at all. It took me x amount of years to actually get my head out of the clouds, but hey, better late than never right, and as my new found motto goes "I only check for people who check for me", and honestly we both know you’ve not been under that umbrella ella ella for a long time now.
That is all, thank you.
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
It's nice to see someone (who is not ashamed and actually rather proud) tell you where they come from and where they want to go, and it's obvious that they are actually working towards their goals. So many people today are looking for the quick buck, it's really rather refreshing.
It's just a shame because I was actually starting to like this one. Thoughtful, funny,caring...and I'm not even going to get into the other categories, because I think that I might actually be sad about it.
Oh well I suppose the reason will make itself clear pretty soon.
Saturday, 20 September 2008
Monday, 15 September 2008
It got me thinking though. They (yeah you know those people who no one knows but are always listening too) say that time heals all wounds, but is that really accurate? I mean do the wounds really heal completely or are they always there just waiting on the most inopportune moment to stick their tongues out shouting ''nyar nyar nyar I'm still here'' and making funny faces?
How do you know that you're healed though? It's easy enough to think that you are, but what about the little niggles that come to you every now and then? What about when you need to vent and the first person you think of venting to is that very same wound that is supposed to be healed? Does it mean that you're not healed, or is it that you're so healed that you can deal with the wounder like nothing ever happened?
Thursday, 14 August 2008
the set up:SO is teasing you about being sexy and wanted by the world..
you: sweetheart come now, you see me through rose colour glasses anyway, I'll never be every one's type
SO: while I understand that not everyone will want to take you home to meet mommy I'm pretty sure no one is going to turn you down [sexually]
you: so which category do you fall into
SO: you know what category I fall into
you: I wouldn't ask if I did
SO: well you should
this people is the moment you need to either get your last freak on, or say eff it and blue ball that man/woman and get the hell out of Dodge. if for some reason you stay and get attached and the answers to many questions seem vaguer than normal....seriously HE/SHE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.
while he/she may be very into the sex, you are just one of his/her dollar worth of dimes. save yourself the heartache and pack up and go find yourself then find someone who will appreciate and love you the way you not only love and appreciate them, but in the way you deserve to be loved...you know the kind of person who will actually say 'i love you' and actually mean it.
just a heads up, I had an epiphany and decided to share
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
The other day I had a conversation with someone and the topic of shoes came up. He was telling me the price of something, and I shot back with my usual answer when I hear a price that my spirit doesn't take ''you know how many shoes I could buy with that''. It's not a question, it's not a rhetorical question, it's a statement. He obviously didn't know this and went on to give me 'that' look and asked me if I'd rather have shoes than somewhere to live. Without a thought about it I said ''DUH''. I am hoping that he was just being facetious, because he's known me long enough to know not to ask me silly questions where shoes are concerned.
I don't want to say 'he told me so' but um..where on earth did I get all these shoes. I just found 30 pairs of shoes in their boxes, and I won't even say how many I found in the downstairs cupboard. Not to mention the amount I had shipped home last year. However when the shock wears off I know it will be like a reunion of old friends (and some new, because I realise that I've never worn some of them, hell I didn't even remember where some came from).
Yet somehow I'm still trawling shoe sites online and drooling over shoes I can never in this lifetime afford unless I win the lottery or Manolo, Choo and Louboutin decide to be kind to a poor child of the 3rd world and give me shoes. Or marry a man like BIG who will indulge my shoe fetish and build me a fabulous closet in which to store them.
I'll leave you now because I've just spied a big sack full of bags and that's a whole nother post right there.
Friday, 6 June 2008
this is why i make my own soap than no one but me touches.
yuck! grown ass man (well .... anyway) at that. *shakes head*
Thursday, 5 June 2008
Well at least I got some yarn and a dress. But pray tell why is some man so drunk he's slurring (@ 11:sumn am) walking behind me chatting 'I like the way you walk, I like the way you walk'? It's time for these people to send my travel documents and let me get the hell out of Dodge. I have concluded that either Prince ''I like black chicks'' Charles has my passport under his bed or MI5 consider me some strange security risk. Yes, just as much as Austin Powers, and ain't nobody shagging me at the minute.
One more thing, I was recently told ''don't come home, no man here''. Um???????????????
What the eff is that supposed to mean? Because I'm female I'm looking for man? Any female who wants to go back to her native country is only doing so to look man? I can't live without a man? I tell you if it wasn't for the amusement factor that some people provide I'd lock off a whole lot more people than I already have. To the best of my knowledge, I am not 'looking man'. But then again I am female, so I must just not realise my role in life is to look man and breed for him.
*shakes head and goes to catch a few zzzz*
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Generally I go to the movies alone, for one simple reason. There ate VERY few people who I can enjoy watching/going to a movie with. That is over 2 hrs in close proximity with someone, so I'd prefer to go with someone who won't annoy me. *sigh*
I went to see the SATC movie, and eff what you heard, that movie is wonderful. I enjoyed it immensely, except for the person who was with me. I have few rules when I go to the movies, but I'd rather they be maintained militantly.
1. Unless the movie is scary, do not grab at me
2. If you are not the man whose knees I am currently making weak please do not put your arm
3. Do not at some point poke prod or whisper loudly to me 'yuh see dat' eff it man, you notice my head and eyes are facing front and my eyesight is adequate, more than likely yes I did effing well see it.
4. And please don't be trying to have a conversation with me or the people on the screen, I don't want to hear it and they can't actually hear you. I have no problem with a little chat now and again, but clapping and saying 'no girl don't go out that door' will get you one rasclaat fingernail in your eye.
So while I loved the movie, I had to deal with this person tapping my jacket, or in loud whispers telling Carrie this and that, and at one point getting loud with me chatting about stuff that they obviously didn't understand, about a situation in the movie. I didn't pay money to get popcorn stuck in my damn teeth only to lose minutes cause you feel the need to argue with me. I don't condemn I don't convert, have the same damn courtesy.
On to the next thing. You know what, fine I have come to terms with people calling me bougie, I am comfortable with whatever label people need to make for me, to feel comfortable with themselves, so I'm going to say this. I cannot abide ghetto ass people. Especially the ones who don't seem to get that they are ghetto. I don't mean with the peacock weave and floor length finger and toenails. I mean ghetto in attitude. Please not I am not using 'gully'. How in the hell are you going to make this statement ' I can't believe they're married, she doesn't act like a (insert last name here), I mean if I marry someone with status I'd at least try to look the part'. I'm sitting there thing wtf kind of sticks and stems did someone give you to smoke? I mean seriously, are you on the same shit that Lauryn Hill is on?
This is why I stay off msn and stick to texting people. I can only take certain people in SMALL doses.
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
So why did I mention to her last night that I'm considering rasta livety (ok that's a lie if I really think about it I've already made steps and am in transition)? I forget that people can be rather closed minded if you chose a different system of belife than they have.
The response I got was written in a rather condescending tone.
She says : 'I hope you're not considering it for the freedom of smoking weed'
All the time I'm thinking WTF?? She has to be out of her cotton picking mind right. Steups!
Thursday, 22 May 2008
See I was home and this imp happened to decide to come by. Now all afternoon I had been sitting in a puddle of cold sweat because of a big black bigger than my hand spider that happened to come visit me. The things somehow got into my room and decided to trap me by lounging over the door. Of course I couldn't go out to the kitchen for the Baygon (ok Bop cause Baygon and me don't pull too good). It finally *after about 10 minutes of me whimpering* took a leisurely stroll elsewhere (ok it could have been shorter but I can't bear to look at them *shudders* so I was glancing back every so often to ensure it was where it was), and I sprang forth to the kitchen got the bop shuffled into the room and jumped on the bed eyes shaded and jump sprayed in its general direction. You know I'm sure i sprayed that thing about 20 times until I was choking in there but the em effer refused to die.
Now the imp comes by and I mention the spider, which is now over in a corner and staying there. A good while later I hear something, and I look to where it came from and it was the spider all balled up and gross. See that's how big the thing was...how many spiders have you ever HEARD fall? EXACTLY!!!
This is the classic...the imp says 'I hope you don't expect me to get rid of it for you'. I laughed inside. I had no intention of asking the imp anything, but in that moment I thought "Voldy would have just got rid of it no question..just like that time there was a s spider on the gate when we were going to the beach one day..yes Voldy laughed at you but Voldy opened the gate so you wouldn't have to deal with the spider".
Needless to say after much exaggerated yawning, the imp got the message and left.
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
man from Layou (random friend of my aunt's) : hello gorgeous how are you (I'm about to give him a look but then notice all the lecherous looking men around and am suddenly filled with thanks that he didn't use my name)?
me: hey I'm ok
man from Layou: you look tired
Now it's not that I'm tired, but I don't particularly look bright eyed and bushy tailed because I've got gritty watery eyes, sniffles and sneezing every two minutes that I'm out of the house at this time of year and have stupidly forgotten to take some form of antihistamine.
How the hell have I managed to leave an island where I lived my whole life (ok fine for you technical folks, not all my life, I mean there were those times in American and well here, and that other island)on, surrounded by all manner of flora without so much as a hint of a sneeze unless I was coming down with a cold or managed to stick black pepper up my nose, but managed to come be a prisoner here and contract..hay fever. *sigh*
so endeth my gripeth
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
You're dating (and I use that word loosely because everyone including you knows that he lives with and is very much involved with the mother of his children) a man. You and the man flaunt your illicit relationship in front of everyone who cares to look in your direction. Something happens, you end it or he ends it.
See now here I'd assume the story ends...but nooooo.
You turn stark raving loony on the man, park outside his house at all hours, call his house at midnight then hang up.
I mean you didn't actually think he would leave her for you ...did you? He always states the opposite.
You go off into the world and happen upon a man that you find attractive, and woo hoo this one is single. You start dating. Yo flaunt that in every one's face as much as possible, as though you need to prove to the world that you're madly in love, and of course at every opportune moment, you shout from the mountaintops 'we're in love you know'.
Is it just me, or isn't it overly obvious when people are in love, therefore the in you're face 'we're in love you know' is just not necessary?
If that 'gag me with a spoon' behaviour wasn't enough, you then follow the ex (the one you went Norman Bates on) around, because you need for him to see you and the new man, and know that you are very happy without him.
Um, if you need to prove to the ex that you don't need him, isn't that kinda an admission that you're really not over him *scratches chin*.
And somehow the new man doesn't mind stalking your ex with you, because he needs to show him that he is the better man since he has captured your heart.
Again...um....you're a grown man over 10 years senior to the female you're seeing but you let her lead you around like a little pip squeak boy throwing it into ex mans face that you're so together now. Seriously? Isn't that kinda stupid of you? Doesn't something in the back of your skull thump you rapidly and exclaim ''SOMETHING AIN'T QUITE RIGHT BUB"
Y'all see why I'm confused? Can someone make sense of this for me? Thank you.
Sunday, 18 May 2008
on another note. anyone wanting a piece of homemade cheesecake (yes the kind you bake not that fake fridge thing)please drop by sometime today i'll be at home all day and there will be no charge.
thank you good day
Saturday, 17 May 2008
After spending a long day on the train going to country to a birthday party for my cousin's husband, finally getting there to be overrun with children and too many bits and pieces of family long time friends and other Vincentians, a longer train ride home, I open the front door and step on the mail only to realise that it's from the Home Office. They are writing me YET AGAIN to ask for more bullshit things that I don't even have because they have my muddaclaat passport and I can't actually apply for anything that they are asking me to supply them with (ie a employment letter, etc). I call my mother to tell her. Then I notice the other envelope containing HER passport, that they somehow decide is ok to send back because she has to travel (when I muddaclaat want to muddaclaat travel back to where I muddaclaat come from and they have me like a muddaclaat prisoner) on the weekend. I call her again to tell her, and her husband answers and starts questioning me about the first letter and what they want. I go through the list an I say well 'whatever I will write them and they will get the letter I send and they will just have to take that'. He starts on oh it's how you construct the letter. Hell muddaclaat O I can write a muddaclaat letter, did I get a muddaclaat 1 for English by fucking everyone on the governing boards. N muddaclaat O. STEUPS. I feel my voice getting that defensive tone I take when talking to him because he tends to condescend. If you want to control your wife and she obeys then that is your business but when you start on some shit like you want to try that on me we will have problems. One day I know I will chip off on this buffoon. Anyway, he's repeating the structure shit and I'm cutting him off so he hands his wife the phone, I tell her I have her passport, she says to keep it cause they will be leaving from here and coming down on Friday night. Did they muddaclaat ask me if I had muddaclaat plans? Cause I muddaclaat do, well did cause I know his fat ass will sleep downstairs by the TV and I just do not care for the drama, so in my room I will stay, I am not coming in late and waking up anyone....(I might change my mind cause I already promised my friend...you know I won't). Anyway hang up and go up to bed, phone rings, my aunt calls out that my mother wants me to email the letter that i will write to them to her before I send it and she will make any necessary changes. Right here I know that is him talking eh (trust me I know this fuckpot). What I can't be trusted to snivel an beg them to please please I know I'm not Nigerian but please gimme a bligh and stamp me passport? I can't be trusted not to write "GO SUCK YUH MUMMAH", and call it a day? I will be writing a letter, by hand, I will not be emailing it to anyone for approval. Right about now I've had it with them and this fuckry I WAN TO GO HOME. and these kissmeass people can GO SUCK THEY MUMMAH!!!
Thursday, 15 May 2008
I'm in the supermarket yesterday minding my own business walking in the tinned veggies aisle looking for peas and corn when 3 reprobate looking Neanderthals somehow locate me and decide to try to start some conversation with the great and mighty always a sure fire winner 'rasta girl'. Hello no eye contact, I'm not even sure i would have noticed you if I wasn't scanning the neighbouring aisle for something. I carried on with my shopping only to find that I was being followed into the next aisle. Well sure it's possible they were shopping, but people in a supermarket who are actually there to shop generally have some item(s) in their hands, basket or trolley. Then it was something to the effect of (I'm thinking for my benefit since it was said loud enough to be heard in JA and not so far from my ear) ''*suck teeth* she nah one real rasta yuh know when yuh inna dance and dem say shake yuh natty". Listen you dumb f*ck Morgan heritage told me (ok so not personally) that you doh haffe dread to be rasta, so (as the Aussies would say) rack off!. I'm pretty sure dumb f*ck and his brethren were looking for corned beef...if they'd been careful enough to look before yapping they'd have noticed the only things in my cart were fruit, veggies, cous cous, juice, (basic pantry items) and fish.. But hey maybe the fake hair he had all braided up in his head was pulled too tight and interfering with his eyesight.
men seriously if a woman isn't giving you a come hither signal (believe it or not, ignoring you isn't a come hither signal, it's a haul yuh muddac*nt, so suck yuh mummah signal), don;t then get all emotional and have to try and play some macho man randy savage to your little feeble male friends because you got a diss.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
However this is the time of year that my hatfever comes into full effect. Imagine I lived surrounded by grass, bush and flowers and trees all my life but come foreign to take on hayfever. *sigh* i want to go home!
I actually had dinner with a school chum (lol) from primary school who i've not really seen since '91. good times...though for a place named 'Mr Jerk' they really can't make jek chicken. *please note i went to dinner before i made the last post* I'm really going to try to wean myself off meat and see how that works out for me.try being the operative word here.
I hate seeing homeless people. It really saddens and angers me and upsets me all at the same time. I know that many of them on the streets are addicts and giving them money is not a good idea. This one time I was waiting on my forever late friend @ a train station and I see this man all desheviled sitting in a corner of the stairs in a very cold month of the year with no shoes...being the sap I am I went into my purse to get some change to give him..but I got sidetracked (I think ever late called ot texted me) when I looked back.. dude was getting his shoes from where he'd stashed them and got some coins out went to a payphone called someone and told them he'd meet them at the next station. Sufice to say I kept my damn change. However.. not all people are trying to scam you. I hate seeing older people who obviously need help. It's really infuriating because some of them actually have families who just can but won't care for them or they have no one and are taken advantage of or just don't have a lot. I saw this old lady walking (i was on the bus) and she was using rubberbands to hold the soles to her shoes. I don't know how i didn't burst into tears then and there. If I'd had money in my purse (you get so used to credit/debit cards here) I'd have gotten off the bus and found some way to give it to her.
If what I say next makes me racist well so be it. It bothers me more than anything to see a homeless person who happens to be black. It hits me harder. I don't know if it's because I'm pissed off because white people here have soo many oppertunities and are literally spoon fed options so them being on the street is slightly less bothersome to me (yes i know many young people run away from situations etc and I do feel for them).
This is what sparked this add on. yesterday and today makes 2 elderly homeless black men that I've seen. It's not a common sight where I live. *sigh* and people question Fidel's way of governing his country.....
Thursday, 8 May 2008
him (not to be confused with H.I.M) 'how you Rasta and you eating meat'
me: 'how is it that you're a christian yet you sin'.
He went quiet for a bit (by the way I have never professed to being a Rasta)
him:'well man has faults'
me: right just like it was a man who interpreted the bible..so how do we know that it was written the way it was intended since everyone interprets things differently?
him: so you're an atheist ( I think he was looking for the word agnostic)
me: when did i say that? disbelief in or questioning the authenticity of the bible now equates to being atheist? I believe in a higher being whether he/she/it is called Buddha, Allah, Jah, God, or whatever.
him: oh i don't know what to say to you young people (he's younger than me eh..but somehow this is the route West Indians seem to travel when you question Christianity..apparently it's because you've lived abroad and read too many book and watched too many movies about vampires so apparently broadening your horizons is on par with moving in with the devil...(which is another thing in itself).
me: listen, all I'm saying is that I don't believe in forcing opinions onto people and Christianity wasn't the first 'religion' per say. The amount of bloodshed over Christianity and the church is insane. I do not believe in people going into a country and basically eradicating all traces of the native people's beliefs just because they don't understand it and therefore cannot fully control them. Furthermore doesn't the same bible teach that God gave humans free will..so how does invading a country and wiping out their belief system and language and 'religion' equate to allowing people to have free will, especially when the 'radicals' who decided they weren't going to convert were killed out? Bigger , or should I say more powerful countries have always taken it upon themselves to go into a country and take over..enslaving, raping and pillaging in the name of religion and yet you want to sit back and not question how on earth what that could be considered 'christian'.
at this point he tells me he's going to stop before I curse him out and that we could have this conversation all day. I told him that no we couldn't because I generally said what I had to say and I'd ignore any reference he made to any conversation again.
In my humble opinion Christianity is like Medical science. Yes we have come leaps and bounds but I'm talking about not understanding. The Christian crusaders came in to a country didn't understand the language or 'religion' and basically forced the people to change because they didn't understand and therefore didn't have the monopoly on control..in the same way many doctors look down on homeopathy, that had been used from the beginning of time to heal people using natural materials, herbs, plants and acupressure etc, but the drug companies don't give doctors and hospitals grants for selling a bunch of rosemary and some aloe to someone to steep and put on their scalp to help hair growth and get rid of dandruff.
Ok that being done. I am not a Rasta. This doesn't mean that I am not interested in the way of life. I like that Rasta Livety is more a culture and way of living more than a religion/ I like that while it has structure it isn't steadfast. As I told the man I don't feel the need to conform to any religion (yes i did all the first communion etc in the catholic church.. but I've never really been a churchy type.. I don't believe that one needs to go to church to pray), once my conscience and heart and soul are good then I am happy. There are bits and pieces that I do not agree with in the catholic church..for example I find it unreasonable to preach that birth control is wrong and should not be used. But I also am completely against the idea that many Rasta's have of 'going back to Africa'. I think a pilgrimage to Africa is something every conscious enough black person should do at least once, however 'going back' and taking up residence at Shashemene is slightly unrealistic. I am not African, yes there is African descent. . but the idea of going back as though you've just lived abroad for a few years makes not a whole lot of sense. First off what African tribe no matter how sure I am of my roots in it will welcome me with open arms? Um that'd be none. We haven't been African for several decades.
But I have been taking the time to read up on Rastafari, while I always knew the basics it's been interesting to say the least to get a deeper understanding. I've even been browsing the Holy Piby. At first my real reason for reading more into Rastafari was basically about 3 weeks ago I happened upon my 'Mr Marley' cd (Jr Gong's first I THINK) and I'd forgotten how much I loved it. It probably didn't do as well as it should have because honestly back in '96 it was all about dancehall and Mr Marley is quite a political and social album. I wanted to understand some of the references that he made on the record...when he sings about 'Elija in the lion's den' along with other things. And I'm really happy I took the time (still taking the time) to learn.
Granted I am not declaring that I'm about to become a Rasta. If i did it's be like the difference between a vegetarian and a vegan. I am trying to not eat as much meat, but alas the black genes are strong and I need me some chicken, but I eat a lot of fish anyway, coffee something I love but doctor's orders are that I not have caffeine because it does funny thins to my heart, so that could be done..I will be needing milk for my cornflakes and cocoa tea though..and I will not be giving up my SKIDDIPS anytime soon. But it's less cult like than most churches that exist. I don't see myself becoming BoBo Shanti well i could do the headwraps I like them anyway but definitely not a Nyahbinghi..(the return to Africa thing).
So I'll definitely be doing more reading on it and living my own Rasta Livety
Thursday, 1 May 2008
There's this little old lady down the hall who like to come visit my aunt. I mean she comes in makes herself a up of tea (a cup has been designated as hers) uses the bathroom etc..makes herself at home on the couch 'having a laugh' at Mrs Bucket and so on.
The other day she comes by (well I think it was her..when I'm home alone and not expecting anyone you could knock on my door until you're blue in the face, unless I'm in a good mood I'm not moving from where I am) and I didn't answer and as per usual I got 'bitch' through the letterbox. Yes little old lady will cuss at you. Anyhow later in the day my aunt was home and was caught by little old lady. She came in.. I was upstairs but have come to recognise her scent (what?? Didn't I mention that she smells like a cross between wet diaper, astray and month old sweat--not because little old lady legs can't get to the bathroom in time, not because she smokes (she doesn't), not because she can't afford water and soap, oh no little old lady just doesn't bathe..she is British you know). Little old lady brings a 'lawyer letter' to show my aunt. It states that her sister has died and has left £350,000 to be shared equally between her and her 2 brothers. Well great right.. at least she can be sure that she can survive the rest of her life in ease. Well little old lady was walking past the 'flat' and I hear her telling someone 'I'm getting more that you said (insert name of my aunt here) told me, I'm getting more that you said (name) told me'. What didn't I mention little old lady repeats everything at least once?
When I hear that little old lady was found dead somewhere and her account was cleaned out.. I will not be surprised at all.
Sunday, 27 April 2008
Ladies what we need to keep in mind is that just because a man(your man) doesn't say it or do it doesn't mean that he isn't feeling it or thinking it. Confused much?
Men what you need to realise is that women are more governed by their emotions and you by logic..so while you might be thinking it and for some unknown reason expect her to know that you're thinking it..it'll be better for all parties if you actually just come out and say it. Confused much?
Ok let's try this...'labelling' has been a sore point for 2 very different reasons. Men don't like to label..but women do. The man may not like to 'label' for many reasons. He might prefer to keep his options open and proclaiming that he is in fact 'your' man makes him unavailable (which we all know is a crock because there are women who will chase after him as soon as they hear that he's taken). Admitting out loud to himself that he is infact your man scares him half to death because he sees it as him getting old and settling down and isn't ready to come to terms with the fact that he is no longer 25. Saying that he is your man takes away the 'we never said this was serious/we never said we were exclusive' defence when you walk into a bar and observe him practically surgically attached to some scantily clad barely legal young thing. And in some cases admitting to you and himself that he is in fact your man pertrifies him just in case you don't want to be lumbered with a man..just in case one day he walks into a bar and finds you swaying suggestively on the dancefloor with some other man. Admitting that he is your man makes it harder to ignore the fact that he cares about you and he has opened up emotionally to you thus making it easier for you to break his heart.
But my brothas...what you fail to realise is that the female isn't breaking down and crying, having tamtrums and sulking to get her own way every living minute of the day. However you only ever pick up on the insecurities and sorrow when she does blow up..that's when you do that thing that pisses her off ..you know what I mean..let's say it together shall we...all together now 'why do you always have to be so over dramatic, are you having your period?'. This is when you will end up with a stiletto in your anus. No she is not having her period, no she is not being overly dramatic. What has happened here is that she has been continuously feeling shut out of your life, because frankly guys you know you don't like 'talking' when you have issues. While it is fine for you to deal with it on your own, shunning your lady is not the way to go about it. And the more often it happens the more hurt she gets and it builds up and builds up and then eruption. Granted she should say from the first time that she's feeling this way..this doesn't always happen..because just like you men we females do sometimes for whatever reason believe that you should realise what we're feeling. Thing is guys, we females like labels. She isn't trying to get a 'lawyer letter' and deed to claim ownership of you and your balls. She isn't trying to be your boss. She isn't going to start calling you every hour on the hour (well except those crazy broads and y'all need to run from them) to find out when you're coming home and where you are and who you're with. The lady in your life needs that label so that she knows she's more to you than the warm p*ssy you know for certain you can always come back to. Plain and simple the female just wants to know that you need/want her as much as she needs/wants you. So when you get that question..y'all know the one 'what am I to you?' don't get defensive and frustrated because she should know by your actions. yes yes actions speak louder than words..but just because something is loud doesn't mean that the sentiment sinks in. Sometimes words need to be spoken louder than actions. Frankly if she's asking that question chances are she knows that she isn't just a warm p*ssy to you, but is somewhat sketchy on where she needs to put her head at where you are concerned.
Admittedly I have been guilty of such activities as stated above but these days I say 'it is what it is'. It doesn't mean that I'm sure what 'it' is, but that I've accepted that 'it' just is.
At the end of the day I suppose you (men and women) just need to communicate better. But then this has been an issue since Noah was a boy and probably will always be. But it's worth a try for the sake of friends who have to listen to woes and constantly carry a change of clothing because at some point their shoulder will become saturated with tears. AT the end of the day opening a solid line of communication (no Digicel, T-Mobile or C&W cells then ey) is going to be of great benefit to you and your relationship whatever it may be.
Friday, 25 April 2008
Men....while it is nice to find one of you who is able to openly speak about his feelings and show emotion..as Morgan heritage say ''when he feels no shame crying in pain''....but please remember that you are men. At the end of the day I want someone to take care of me. I don't mean I need a man to give me a monthly allowance that will pay bills and get my hair and nails did. I mean I need someone who I feel safe with..not that I expect him to do free jumping or cliff diving but I don't particularly want to feel that I'll have to defend both of us if a brawl breaks out where we happen to be.
It just seems that the social roles of men and women have done a 180 in recent years. And I for one would really prefer it not to get out of hand like it did in that episode of South Park when all the men started watching Queer Eye and became 'metro'. I'm all for a man to keep his nails neat and clean (hello no dirty fingers are coming near my lady parts..I don't appreciate raggedy nails or teeth cutting up my business), but um when you have more products in the bathroom than I do..I think maybe you have a problem.
However when I said roles seemed reversed I'm more talking about sexual and social. For example (this is for the person who said I tell great stories...lol) I noticed that men my age and above seem to have a penchant for young girls (not as in underage but you know them the 'young' ones who are just happy to be bought a 2 piece and fries and get 'drive out' in fancy car...and increasingly the ones who see the older man as a stepping stone to social acceptance) so I though 'hey self what's good for the gander'. Could someone have told me to keep my old self in my little corner and behave? NO..because the girlfriends who knew that the little imp was sniffing under my frock were more interested in using me as a guinea pig than making me see sense. I did resist the imp for a long time..but then this person who shall remain nameless..just happened to piss me off royally one night and the imp just conveniently happened to be at hand..so he 'got a bligh'. I should have known what I was letting myself in for from the moment the words 'I'm coming home with you right' left his lips along with an oddly unsure look. What MAN in his right mind has to ask that (yes yes date rape cases and c*ck teasers..but seriously)??? I was too um 'riled up' to listen to the little voice in my head saying 'no no no..just go home and sleep'. Anyway long story short he's a nice little imp but he's got 4 things very wrong with him.
4.He's a bit of a little whiny bitch really
Look, I'm happy with 1 & 2 if done correctly but if that's all you have in your repertoire then Houston we have a (no pun intended) f*ucking problem. As for 3 um hello?? While yes you should be able to know that what you're doing is going well..uphill or downhill..a little encouragement isn't a whole lot to ask. How the hell are you going to just do some s*it and be quiet all the way through it????? As for 4. well that's a story in itself....
I decided (WHY) that maybe the imp was just *rolls eyes* intimidated since he seemed to be rather smitten with me....so let's give him another chance shall we (WHY). One night I was out with some people and I'd had a couple Thug Passions..well I lie, I asked the chick for a Thug Passion and she looked confused (first clue) I told her Henney and Alize she asked 'you wah dem together' with another confused look (second clue) then proceeded to pour me equal measures of both and charge me for both instead of one drink *sighs*. Suffice to say the drink was incredibly strong and I was made to drink both (I'd ordered one for my friend). Do you see where I'm going here? I had many a strong drink that night and while waiting for my friend's fellah to get the vehicle I said to her 'I feel like calling Voldy' (Voldy is who Voldy is and that's that) she was able to talk me out of it (alcohol is a bitch assed trick) and instead I texted the imp. The text [and I quote] I've been drinking and I'm in the mood to harass someone.I'll be home in about 5 minutes[end of quote]. I got a very good night's sleep. The imp apparently wasn't all too pleased that I only TEXT him instead of calling him. WTF? Fellahs tell me...a woman (you single she single you find she more than adequately attractive) texts you and basically says if you come to my house you are guaranteed serious p*ssy...and you say 'no thanks you hurt my feelings you should have called'. What the muddahsc*nt?
See what I mean now. I could see a woman (yes I know you men have feelings too) wringing her hands and sighing that he only wants one thing etc etc etc. But a man? It's not like I blanked him in public..heck he's a nice imp and I have no issue liming with him..but we didn't sit down and decide I like you, you like me lewe be boyfren and gyalfren nuh. Yow...the love of my life doesn't complain when i text him filth and requests..he actually texts me too. So why this imp feel that he should get special treatment? Anyone who knows me knows I'm more of a texter than a caller. Steups.
But this is the way I find things going these days. Women seem to be the ones initiating the FB relationship..I'll call you when I need to be broken off a lil sum sum then you can take your ass back to your house. I'm not against the take charge woman heck I'm happy to say...come fix me up thanks. But when grown assed men start withholding their man parts because they see you talking to another man and get jealous even though they were all 'oh let's not get serious'..something's gotta be done.
for the curious the imp was well over the legal age..just younger than me.
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
This is the feeling I got a few years ago when realisation hit me like a ton of bricks..that the person I thought was a friend for many years was not a friend at all..but the dreaded FRENEMY!
Yup Yup. I can be pretty slow..naive..I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I guess I'm too damn trusting sometimes. I mean she and I never really got along until she somehow miraculously decided I was her bestest friend.
When I sat down and actually thought about all the bs this chick put me through it was really eye opening..because at the time it was happening I couldn't see the woods for the trees ..if you catch my drift. It's like painting..you really need to sometimes stop and stand back and look at what you've done before diving back in.
This chick would know I had a baby crush on a guy and would actively go after him..and because I'm pretty sure I had bravado but real self esteem issues I'd just step back. But heaven forbid the shoe ended up on the other foot.There was some guy she's liked for years the guy met me once and decided he liked me..and I was unfortunate enough to think that it was ok to 'talk' to him. Chick didn't speak to me for about 6 weeks.... red flags right..LOL.
Then there was the time I met this guy one night...(the same guy I'd been begging her to introduce me to for about a week and she wouldn't) ..and this girl was trying to get at him..yow the fremeny was there helping the girl interrupt us. I know right.
It's a shame when females feel that how many men the sleep with or how many men pay them attention somehow validates their life. The fact that her family seemed to get along with me better always annoyed her. She hated a close male relative for years because her dad and him were close like father and son. Yes she got some issues. I always always always defended this chick.....when your grandmother asks your friend to 'please talk to her' you know something ain't right. But I'm done with that. I speak to her but that's about it..because there was one incident about 2 years ago that really sealed the deal for me..and I very suddenly got over it.
It's just funny how you see yourself and how how others see you...even more amusing when you see yourself the way others see you. I still don't understand why some women see me as a threat. I am not going after anyone's man *sings* CHIPPING DOWN THE ROAD WID ME OWNA MAN not I TEKKING WAY SOMEBODY HUSBAND. I never think that I'm some great beauty that every man is drooling after..but apparently some women see me that way. Amusing I tell you.
On another note I was recently told that a guy said that I'm so sexy I look like the kind of woman who would just chew him up and spit him out. He can't talk to me.
Hello???? What the hell is intimidating about lil ole me? Ok I can be ''outspoken'' but that's because I have no tact. I was also told I'm passionate and aggressive..there you have it further proof that I'm Latina.
I will never understand how people look at me and come up with this stuff but hey...wuddeva!
Saturday, 19 April 2008
Now I was reading along thinking 'oh this chick is making sense' it quickly turned into 'what the ass kinda fuckry is this dotish c*nt chatting?'.
She started off talking about how people think they can up and move to the Caribbean and it'll be all roses.. then she goes on to say that she doesn't think she could move to the island of her parent's origin because she couldn't deal with things like FLIRTATIOUS MEN, LONG LINES and HEAT. At this point a flag raises in my brain.
1. It was only when I moved here that I got a stalker..yes a stalker..he lived down my road and used to follow me and watch me and could tell me how nice I looked that day (that i never saw him) and where was I going.
2. Long lines are everywhere..yes the bank lines can get ridiculous but hell it's here too.
3. The heat....well to each his own
Right ok..I kept on reading. She goes on to add...and I quote "In England we are so proud to say that we are black, but in the Caribbean, people are happy to explain that they are mixed with Indian, Chinese and Portuguese, and it's even better if they are mixed with white"[end of quote].
Maybe I'm being overly sensitive but I found that statement insulting. Simply put my blood began to boil. Well that so pissed me off that I had to write a reply..whether they print it is another story.
1. What the hell does 'proud to be black' mean when this country is the king and queen of skin bleach creams....when you see children barely out of prams with weaves (yes weaves) and fake hair braids so tight that their hair line is already receding...when the darkest of females seek out white or light skinned men so their kids can have 'good hair'...proud to be black indeed.
2. I am MIXED!! Who looking at my will say that I'm black..except the white supremacist? If I'm out of the damn sun for more than 3 months I turn into a Casper colour. A while woman once accosted me in the middle of the West End ...I mean grabbed me with both hands and said 'you have white in you don't you!'..more of a statement than question. Yes I am black but I am also Carib, White and possibly a bit Portuguese (coming from the fact that I'm too lazy to check but people stop me and speak to me in Spanish, and that in Venezuela people thought I was Venezuelan). How does acknowledging the other aspects of heritage make me less proud of one?
The West Indian people are notoriously mixed because of colonisation and slavery it's in our blood..it's a part what we are..it's a part of who we are.
As much as I love freedom of speech I sometimes find that some people really need to be censored. Before they start babbling people need to realise that they are not brooks!
ps: that's not my response. lol
Monday, 14 April 2008
Anyway these people in this lodge have an attitude like they are better than everyone..which is odd since my poor easy going cousin is so not like that...So not only are they stuffy and hoity toity but they have some really uncouth guests. There's a guest speaker..wasn't a boring or long talk..and you're going to be having a big old chat during..not even quiet. Then again what did I expect from a female dressed like that. One in a too tight for her , very cheap looking black thing, the front thigh length the back calf length...fine for a club not for a formal dinner. I'm not Trinny and Susanna and this is not 'What Not To Wear' but jeeze..didn't she have a mirror. Then again dem does feel dey go find husband by these things.
On to the creep. This one man, the secretary of the lodge..decided that he was going to take a shine to me. So all night he was making some out of place comment. He came around with a bottle of El Dorado (15) and I commented that it seemed the factory was having issues because for the past 6 months there hasn't been any coming into the UK....this was his reply ''I know I bought 3 boxes and I brought one box here so if you want any there's only one place left for you to get it'...I'm like WTF. Now ya'll know my mouth ain't have no back door.However since it was my cousin's first run in he chair I decided to not make any friendly chat, cut him off nicely and let it slide. That obviously wasn't the way to go. A little later they were passing out presents..it was a 'ladies night' and all females received a little token...somehow he took it upon himself to be the one to distribute to our table..there were 2 ladies next to me and I was on the end..he gives them theirs, gets to me, pulls it back and says 'yours is at my house' by this time I'm speechless eh. Did I mention he leaning down to talk to me wid cigarette breath. UGH!!!! Later on in the night the music come on and people found their way to the likkle dance floor... I found my way back to my seat or up and down my table chatting to me family dem. Dude returns coming to ask me to dance I'm like um no thanks..he wants to know why I'm like because I'm enjoying my time relaxing and chatting..he says 'ok I'll give you a 5 minute grace period'.. WTF. Now I had already complained to my cousin who spoke to him.. obviously not hard enough.. Oh did I forget to mention this cretin is a big ole married man and his wife is sitting with him a table over from us....and he presented her with a huge bouquet of flowers in front of everyone...Now wtf..your wife right there and you still trying strokes on people girl chile. CREEP!
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
let the ink exsanguinate
like the blood in your veins
bleed out until
ink cartridges sputter and spit
the last of their
essence onto my page
can i write you
out of my life
how many years
to a line
can i compress
to a few pages in
a few lines
on a leaf
i want to write you out of my system
but i don't know
where you end
and i begin
like cursive on my page
just flow for days
can i write you
out of my life
using ink blots
that leave my pen
caress my soul
manipulate my mind
creep up my thighs
touching the invisible ink
that you always
i need to write
you out of my life
i'm scared i'll run out of pages
before the ink dries
to leave you
on which to write
Friday, 4 April 2008
Anyhow I went about my business jumped on a bus only to be told 15 minutes into the journey that the bus wasn't going to Oxford St because of roadworks on Regent St. So I gather they didn't know about these roadworks til then..because I can offer up no other suggestion as to why the bus would falsely advertise where it was going when I jumped on it. Did I mention that the driver (who I was sitting behind) was cruising like it was sunday morning...why.... because he had to watch all women he drove past. Can you do that shit on your own time...people have things to buy.
So i get off in Trafalgar Sq and walk to Regent St.. I was going to the bead store. Yes the bead store...just call me Martha. I ended up spending way more than I lied to myself and said that I would...but my dumb ass also put down something that I need and now I'm here trying to work out how to attach the damn wire to the earring hook without the pack of round wire that I accidentally put down and didn't pick up. I will figure this shit out and I will be rocking my hawt earrings soon.
Will let you know (with pics) how it goes. But I'm overly excited and so I'm going back to my pliers and wires and beads.
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
Top that off with the letter I got in the mail today from Liz and Charlie's people asking me to send proof that my mother is my mother and my nationality. Now in my f*cking application for this f*cking new status in this f*cking country I included originals (because they insist on it) or my birth certificate and my mother's and our passports. If these Muddass people have lost my shit I will not be at all amused with them and their level of fuckry.
*woosah woosah* let me eat my farine and brown sugar and calm down eh.
I've been thinking that since I went through the whole application for the MA process that I should do it...but then I think I'm being offered a job (mind you the pay will be crap) that seems interesting and will afford me the ''experience'' that all other employers seem to be looking for...not to mention this job is somewhere I want to be. Hell if the UN would hire me to do that field job (phototakeouting and documenting) I would be more than happy to move to NYC (for more reasons than I care to state)..but I know that ain't gonna happen because though if I do say so myself my application essay rocked more than the cradle in the tree top I could never answer the question about seeing and experiencing devastation to their liking...I just haven't been in that situation. Two likkle hurricane does not equate to a famine or military coup. So yeh the job.. as soon as Liz and Charlie's people get their act together whether it's a yay or nay, and once the job is still available I think I'm going to seriously tell boss man I will take it. I'm more than ready to get on up out of here.
Monday, 31 March 2008
I recently came upon this term which to me sounds like the bad title of very a bad gay S&M porn flick. I saw it online and didn’t know what it meant but wasn’t bothered and kept moving. However last night I was chatting with a girlfriend of mine and she brought it up, I think what she sad was something to the effect of ‘bottom bitch just has to deal with it’ to which I replied ‘wtf is this bottom bitch thing?’ Well apparently the bottom bitch is the ‘’constant’’ in a man’s life (while I’m sure this term can be used by females too, straight or gay, the situation that we were speaking of, and the fact that we’re straight means I’m going to be talking about MAN so do not come with to me about double standards or some such crap). I was still slightly confused, so she went on to explain that this ‘’constant’’ is the female that the man will always return to no matter what, that includes a happy marriage, presidency of his housing association, promotion to chief fryer in Mc Donald’s or whatever. This is the chick that the man will always find his way back to for whatever reason.
Now I must be really simple, because I cannot for the life of me fathom the idea of a ‘’constant’’ the only ‘’constant’’ I want in my life is my one and only man. What the hell is wrong with people? If you’ve gone so far as to meet someone, like them enough to get involved with them on a serious level, why on earth do you need some outside woman, skettel, prostitute, fuck buddy ‘’constant’’ et cetera et cetera et cetera? I mean ok, you say it’s about sex right… there’s just stuff you can do with her that you wouldn’t do with wifey..right.. so she’s nothing but a common whore to you, not on the level of wifey but somehow good enough to stick your man parts into because she lets you do it. If whatever you do with her is soo damn depraved that you’d not do it with your wife, maybe you need to be thinking about not having a wifey or not doing whatever you’re doing. Ok so maybe wifey doesn’t do what this chick does, you ever though that maybe if you sat wifey down and explained what you like she might be willing to try it and might even like it? Fine it’s not about sex. This ‘’constant’’ situation now becomes very troubling, because if it’s not ‘just sex’ then obviously you and the chick have some connection on a higher level and maybe you need to make the ‘’constant’’ the wifey.
I don’t know if this ‘’constant’’ thing is bad or good, I suppose depending on the side you’re stuck on it could be either. A single man with a ‘’constant’’ could be kind of understood, there’s some distance between him and her, or other mitigating circumstances that keep them from being apart on a serious level at the present so he dates around but knows that she is the ‘one’ and some day she will be wifey and ‘’constant’’ all in one. But the married, engaged, involved man who turns around and has this female still in his life is just wrong. Sorry that’s just my opinion. I do now want to be someone’s bottom bitch, I don’t want to have a bottom bitch. I just want one man who wants one woman.. ME! Is that some spoilt brat temper tantrum request? Nope. Why does life have to be so damn complex? There are just some things that can be really simple and uncomplicated but somehow in our quest for a soap opera life we over complicate and make drama where it is not needed. You meet, you fall in love, you get together, you live happily ever after or you end the relationship and move on. Yes love doesn’t work like that, there are factors around you that will mess with this simple move from A to B, but just because the factors are there doesn’t mean you have to make them a part of your life. You ignore the irritating person next to you on public transport, you walk past the person in your class/job/family as though you don’t see them, because you and that person don’t get along or hell you just don’t like them, so you pretend they don’t exist. The factors that over complicate love and relationships can be just as easily ignored.
I’m going to be straight up, if I find out that I’m some man’s ‘’constant’’ and he has some woman somewhere but I’m here as the easy fuck, or the person who makes him feel better about himself, but has no intention of ever getting serious with me. I’m walking away. I am a simple simple female. I just want a plain old monogamous me and him (only) relationship. Story done!
Monday, 24 March 2008
I’ve never actually been on a date per say. Where I’m from people just tend to hang out in groups. When I was young…ger… you kind of just happened upon intimate relationships. You liked one of the people you hung with, he liked you back, somehow a hand was held a kiss happened and Robert was your mother’s brother. No one really asked you to be their boyfriend or girlfriend, you just somehow knew that it was so, and soon you both started referring to each other in public and private as each other’s girl/boyfriend. The older you get, the less trusting you are in that unspoken promise, the more you need to hear the other person speak the words. It just carries more weight to hear someone say ‘I love you’, ‘will you go out with me’ ‘will you marry me’ et cetera et cetera et cetera.
Recently I’ve been thinking about settling down. And for you people out there who have come across this page by making a mistake in typing (this is a private page and not on the search engine list) I’m not hearing a ticking from somewhere inside me, I’m not about to ask random men on the street to donate some sperm so I can produce a rather attractive offspring (anyone who knows me knows that is not a road I want to travel).
I’ve always maintained that marriage isn’t the be all and end all of my life, and it isn’t, but for whatever reason I’ve been thinking more and more about what it might be like with a certain someone. I’d rather these thoughts didn’t enter my mind, and for the most part they don’t but most of the contact I’ve had with him recently has included some light reference to the ‘M’ word.
I’ve never been the kind of girl who can have a million and on sexual partners and think nothing of it. Sometimes I wish I could have been that um…free spirited, I’d certainly have had a lot more sex in my life. But it’s just not me. I’m basically a one man woman which has been rather unfortunate for me at certain intervals because men aren’t always about one woman…and I’m not at all interested in a serial monogamy.
I’ve been ready to have a long term relationship/marriage/living with/very serious relationship since I was about 21. I won’t get into the catalyst that caused that. Anyway in my mind’s eye I can see a few things that I want, and again I wish I didn’t because it’d be a real disappointment if they didn’t. But at the end of the day isn’t that what we all want/need…someone who can take away the frustration of your day, make the gray skies blue, just make you feel better by being near them/ hearing their voice/ seeing an email…whatever, but someone who can make your whole world a better place to live without having to do anything at all but just be. I know exactly why I’m thinking along these lines…and when I try not to my damn subconscious comes along and hits me upside my head with deeper thoughts and dream and wishes and ideas about the very same thing I’m trying to avoid.
This settling down thing just isn’t about to happen though, because I’m not sure that I know of a man out there who has the same feelings for me that I do for him, that is one who is ready to be a me(me as in the person writing this) only man, and essentially that’s what I need. I need to know that when I’m not with him whether that is in another country/state/parish/building/area of a club or restaurant etc that he’s not busy doing things to someone else that I’d not be happy with. I think a lot of people believe that you can’t have a sexually fulfilled relationship with one person. Rubbish! Of course you can. One guy asked me a couple months back, how on earth I can even say I know anything when I’ve only had x amount of sexual partners (since you’re curious it’s very much under 10). So in his thinking, you have to have ha sex with over 100 people to know what you’re doing. Um no! Experimenting, role playing, costumes…I think I heard something about the great outdoors lol, all that can be done with just one partner. What is up with you people?
So yes, I’m quite ready to settle down (all the feminists are about to beat me with their handbags now) and be barefoot (ok maybe heels and a sexy chef outfit, or socks if it's cold) in the kitchen making dinner for my man to come home to, though I'd be very happy with him making me dinner or us cooking together. Don’t get me wrong I know this isn’t the 1950’s I just like to cook. Yes I’m interested in a career; yes I’d like to work. I wouldn’t mind working from home, I have no problem in working from an office, I wouldn’t mind working in the field (not so much digging potatoes, but more photo take outing). But I also am quite domesticated; my friends tend to call me Delia and Martha sometimes, which is fine by me..well except the fact that they’re both older white women *raises eyebrows suspiciously*.
Anyway yes, so, long story short, I’m quite ready to settle down and curl up next to him with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. Sometimes the simplest things are the most rewarding/important/memorable.
Monday, 17 March 2008
Well I'm still rather annoyed about missing Jah Cure (though I hear as per usual they brought him onstage so late people were just not bothered....seriously promoters you have to do a better job).
Anyway so just in case you all thought that I'd jumped off a bridge or something nopes I'm alive and well.. Ok maybe not well cause I have a dry cough and a sore throat. I blame a certain individual but I already know I'll be blamed for passing it along to them. *SMH*
So yes, I had a quiet weekend but it was the best weekend I've had for a very long time. I just hate when it has to end. Yes yes boo fricken hoo.
Anyhoo. I happened to witness some MA torture this weekend, and I must be a glutton for punishment because here I am looking at MA programs. I have seen one I like. Shoot it's not like I'm working, and I'm feeling rather useless and bored. So I'm looking, I have seen something that I like But that's out country. But I like the course and well it's far enough away.lol
We shall see
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
For the last 2 weeks I've had a recurring dream, of late it has been evolving, but the main focus is one thing, or one man i should say, maybe it's my relationship with this man....or lack thereof.
my cell rings and no number is displayed, it's early morning (I never sleep) I'm a bit dubious but any number of my friend overseas could be calling because they know I'll be awake, so I answer. It's him. After a silence that isn't awkward, but more heavy with things unsaid, but not unpleasantly so, he tells me that he will be here in a few days and wonders if I'd come meet him, maybe or lunch. Again I'm dubious because hearing his voice is difficult enough, I'm not sure if I could see him and not breakdown. But he's persistent and I know he wouldn't ask me if it wasn't important. I agree.
I meet him for lunch ( I believe in his hotel's restaurant) we talk, it's like a first date, not so much the flirting, but the uncertainty and shyness. He says that he has some function to go to and asks that I accompany him. I just want to kiss him, but I don't, I make no sudden moves into that zone. I tell him that that he looks great and thank him for inviting me, but explain to him that I won't be able to be with him for such a prolonged period...
he asks a waitress to take our picture and then he says maybe I could put it online (msn,myspace..whatever) which is odd, because he doesn't really like that kind of thing.
things get fuzzy after this.
recently it's become this
There is an official event that I'm invited to, his father is present, I try to avoid him because I don't want to have that conversation. Somehow I end up having that conversation and when I finally manage to get away, I turn and he's there.
I walk into this event and he's there, we catch eyes and I can't deal with it, I turn and go downstairs into the bathroom, trying to pull myself together so people don't realise I'm dying inside, and I can't leave because I'm there with a family member and my abrupt departure would bring many questions that I'd rather not answer. I exit the bathroom and sit on a couch downstairs and he approaches, it's as if he came looking for me, he sits by me and we talk
again it gets fuzzy at this point
last night it became this:
Back to the cell call, this time I meet him in his hotel room, he tells me there's an important function that he has to attend and would I please accompany him, he doesn't tell me what it is, but I say of course and ask for a dress code. He tells me since he's putting me out he'll be paying for my outfit and hands me his card. I look at it as though it's got leprosy. He asks me what's the matter, and I explain that since we're not actually an item, I feel slightly kept, though I hear he tends to hand his card out to his 'friend' like candy I've never been on the receiving end and it feels kind of strange. He doesn't take this well, he seems more peeved about the 'friend' comment. I tell him that my coming there was a mistake and I leave. Outside his door I break down and tears are flooding down my cheeks, he doesn't follow me, I bump into someone while I'm walking away and she asks if I'm ok, I say no before looking up and realising who's speaking to me. It's his mother and she says my name. I'm stunned that she knows my name and I don't hide it, she says he used to talk of me often, I say that those days are gone and so am I. I then say that whatever even must be important because she's here, and she ask me if he didn't tell me what it is.I say no, she asks if I said no and I tell her that I said yes. She seems surprised that I'd say yes without knowing what I was accepting, and I explain to her, that I know he'd only involve me if it were something important to him and more so important that I be there (not that I know what that would be). I'm still visibly upset she asks if i want to come into her room until I'm ok and I try to decline but end up sitting on her bed crying about him. She then goes to get him and brings him to me and insists that we speak, she is about to leave us alone and I ask her to stay. She tells me to tell him how I feel about him and why...and I do, she then tells him to do the same, but he says nothing. After the silence gets overbearing I look at him say that it's ok, tell her that it was nice to meet her and get up to leave....
I don't know what happens next. I don't know why I'm having these dreams, the only constant is him...and I doubt anything like this is ever going to happen....
Monday, 10 March 2008
Don't get me wrong here, I'm a HUGE fan of Jah Cure, I might even need to be put on suicide watch this weekend, since the link to the radio station isn't working for me anymore so I won't even be able to listen live online. I would have been front and center (well ok maybe not because I don't do ghetto ruffian crowds) doing the 'hot wuk' dance and singing along with 'she la la la la bum bum she lay I an I buk a hot gyal today'. Hell I would have been pon de gully side chanting 'force it up hard in har, mek she feel the 9 yard in har, mi sintin heavy like concord in har, mi cocky versus her punnany war'. I would have gotten my Pimp chalice out and ready to go to the club. All I'm saying is that there are certain issues that you just shouldn't straddle the fence over, especially if you've taken a stance as do gooder, big christian, preachy mc preachy or devil worshipper , whatever. Make up your mind about an issue and stay focused. While people are allowed to have a change of mind, something tells me the silence surrounding this has nothing to do with a change of heart or mind. I just find it kind of sickening really.
Maybe it's the LOS (lack of sex), maybe I'm not thinking clearly seeing that I believe that LOS is a major factor in the death of braincells, and the shut down of metabolism.. that being the case I may not have very long to live (not from the suicide I mentioned before, but from my damn body shutting down on me) *big sighs*.
Papa Cure, they say that your music hasn't been the same since you were released from prison. I don't know how true that is I haven't heard much from him since , but I love 'Sticky'. I suppose some of the best art, whether music, painting or poetry come from pain and suffering, creative people kind of thrive on it. But it's like an addict thinking they need a drug to be good at things. Once you were born with that talent, you don't need the suffering to bring out what's in you, just find the button that helps you bring it forth to the masses. I am truly devastated that I'll be missing that show, that would be a happy birthday for sure. Everyone enjoy and be safe!