My So-Called Life

Moving house...

2012-01-15T15:02:00.000+02:00

So after 5 years and 400-odd blog posts later,

I decided it's time to move this blog elsewhere.

You can find me over at:
http://www.vimfromzim.com/

So this isn't really goodbye,
but rather a change of address :-P

Hope to catch you in my new space.

V x

Day Something: White Flag, Dido Style

2011-08-01T16:40:00.005+02:00

So in case you were wondering, I absolutely SUCK at daily blogging! For someone who has a lot to say at any given moment (except when viewing Project Runway and Games of Throne) who woulda thunk I would be running short on the written word.

I have already outted myself to Shonavixen (my blogger challenger) and she has given me a stern talking to you, lol.

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On my mind:

Slow Dancing

Once upon a time, in my past I used to be a pretty good amateur
ballroom dancer (much to the ridicule of family and friends).
In general, I am a HUGE fan of dancing but there was something about
partnering up with someone and executing dance moves intuitively
that's got me fixated on returning to the dancing circles pronto.

In ballroom dancing the man always leads,
something that took me a while to get used to
(yes, I was THAT girl trying to lead a man around a dancefloor, lol).
This style of dancing, like other forms of partnering dance styles,
teaches you to trust your partner to get you were you need
to go, on the floor, with minimal fuss.

There's something ridiculously intimate and endearing about knowing that when
your dance partner squeezes your hand or lightly nudges
your waist that a new move is coming along.
However, like a lot of things, getting to this level takes
time, patience and a whole lot of practise.

The ingredients for all relationships,
on and off the dance floor ;-)

Now to find a dance partner to indulge my nostalgia!

When's the last time you slow danced with someone?
Share your stories in the comments?

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Stay blessed chickens,

V x

Day 17: Food for thought

2011-07-21T10:18:00.002+02:00

Day 16: Window Periods

2011-07-19T17:20:00.003+02:00

Everything in life has a window period...
heck,

Life is the proverbial window periods to beat all window periods.
If we take too long deliberating over the pros and cons of a situation
or any opportunity you could find yourself in the distressing
position of realising that your window period has passed.

This applies in relationships too.
This week I've been hearing of instances where
exes having been quite happy on distancing themselves
from a former significant other are all of a sudden
trying to hit comebacks like their name is Arnold Schwarzenegger.

When it comes to relationships that have ended,
I say the best kind of window period you're gonna get
is the two week to a 3 month type window period
(I've heard of isolated cases of more extended periods,
but lets stick with the more common norm).

Calling peeps up when memory lane got re-routed 5 years earlier
is not only something ridiculous, it's just plain sad.

So when you've messed up and missed a window period for whatever the reason,
suck it up,
admit you lost a great potential something,
and vow not to let the next good window period go without acting on it.

That's all folks :-)

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PS Pay www.diasporandarlings.com a visit,
new articles have been posted and
we would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on them.

Later chickens

Day 15: Mentors

2011-07-19T10:03:00.004+02:00

Sheryl Sandberg (COO of Facebook) currently tops my
wishlist of mentors.
This woman is ridiculously inspiring with her uber impressive CV,

academic track record and the fact that she's also a
wife and a mum.

Talk about being the woman who has it all.

She has recently created a lot of awareness around the lack of
women in senior management and when this
woman speaks you sit up.

Sheryl joins the ranks of Oprah, Angela Ahrendt and Khanyi Dhlomo
on my imaginary "Vimbai's mentors" list.

Refer here for Sheryl's TED talk: http://www.ted.com/talks/sheryl_sandberg_why_we_have_too_few_women_leaders.html

Recent article on Sheryl in The New Yorker: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/07/11/110711fa_fact_auletta

Day 13 & 14: Deja Vu

2011-07-17T23:09:00.003+02:00

One of my favourite scenes in the first installment of The Matrix is when Neo and Trinity are walking up some stairs in some random building (as they usually do) and Keanu Reeve's character spots a cat repeating a movement and says, "Deja Vu" and Trinity then informs him that someone's messed with the programming...or was it blueprint.

I never get deja-vu, well in the correct sense of the expression which according to Wikipedia is:

"is the experience of feeling sure that one has already witnessed or experienced a current situation, even though the exact circumstances of the previous encounter are uncertain and were perhaps imagined."

Mapping life's patterns and themes comes second nature to me, so I am in a perpetual state of deja vu...I just never get those obvious deja-vu moments people get when going down an escalator or walking into a room. Mine are more like, "haven't I seen this before, played out on Life's stage."

The fuel situation, or rather the lack of fuel situation in Johannesburg this weekend was some serious deja-vu:

- Driving at 40km per/hr so not to waste what little fuel you already have;
- Reconsidering functions hosted a million miles from your place;
- Calculating the most direct routes to places that do not involve climbing mini-mountains or hills and;
- By no means using the air conditioner to warm up your car.

I had been "here" before. It wasn't fun then and it isn't fun now.

Hopefully this particular case of deja-vu vaporises this week sometime, in the meantime, I'll be the one crawling along the highway at 20km per/hr ;-)

Stay blessed chickens,

V x

Day 12: Enough said

2011-07-16T17:09:00.004+02:00

It was an awesome Friday night :-)

That is all.

Blogging Challenge (Day 11): African Dessert?!?!

2011-07-14T17:40:00.006+02:00

My favourite emails are the one's titled
"random question".

Those are FAVOURITE type of questions and
my girl "S" didn't disappoint.

Her workplace was throwing an African-themed event
and she had been roped in to present
an African dessert.
(Can you tell she doesn't reside on the African continent)

She sent an email plea to a bunch of us and the responses
are killing me softly.

Here are a few to share:

The early suggestions where tame

Malva pudding

Fruit salad (with mango and passionfruit)

Koeksisters

Fried plaintains

Semolina Pudding

Then they got interesting:

Sugar cane/nzimbe (complete with bowl to spit the chewed remenants)

Sweet potato (mbambaira)

Then down right ludicrous:

Sadza/Pap and Lacto (sour milk)

Chicken (yes, you read correctly)>

As I write this post, these ladies are now downloading
long ass dissertations on how African children under
the age of 13 years, back in the day, considered any meat
"dessert" as it was normally reserved for adults. One
friend piped up and reminded us that the average African residing
in the rural areas can barely get a proper meal let alone
dessert and that dessert is for the privileged.

Now the debate has steered off in the direction of , "Dessert is not an
African concept and is something that was brought through
by the colonists and in fact, it's really an Arab concept and has been
improvised over the years."

In 10 minutes I have received 30 odd emails on this topic,
so I am going to fling the question to you, dear readers:

What constitutes an authentic African Dessert?

Or is there really no such thing?

Holla in the comments ;-)

Blogging Challenge (Day 10): La La La

2011-07-14T11:55:00.003+02:00

sooooooooooo i totally didn't upload yesterday
and I have no valid excuse....i've used them all :-)

Can i promise this won't happen again,
ummm nope.

However, I will promise to take a "Johnny Walker" approach
and just keep walking (in this case blogging)
despite any mishaps.

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 9): Just one of those days

2011-07-12T23:25:00.003+02:00

Today was one of those days I would describe as being,"
"Fine, partly cloudy with a South-easterly airflow."

It started on a high,
bottomed out in the middle of the day,
life threw a curve ball at day end

and the year ended up in a pocket of sunshine and "The Itis"

*kanyeshrug*
Tomorrow is a new day,
Empires must be made.

Later chickens,

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 8): Novel cuisine et al

2011-07-12T09:44:00.004+02:00

This was Monday’s blog, but due to technical difficulties will be posted today :-)

Side note preamble: This post very nearly didn’t go up. Got home from dinner (more of that later), jumped into my fleece jammies and electric blanketed bed and have been fighting off the sleep since. If it wasn’t for the simple fact that I knew I had to do good by the blogging challenge set before me, I would have checked into Club Duvet (featuring DJ Pillow and The Sandman) about 15 minutes ago.

I was out at dinner with a friend earlier and she ordered the oddest dish I’d ever heard of, “prawns and chocolate”. Now both of those ingredients, served separately, are some of my favourite foods....but together, I wasn’t too sure about that.
After a very sceptical bite though, my opinion was swayed. It was positively yummy and decadent.

Reminded me once and for all that opposites do attract, hehehe ;-)

In other news:

1. Google+ has rendered me clueless. I pride myself on my techno-savviness, especially in the realm of social networking media....but this new entry has got me baffled. It’s not as straight-forward a site as I had hoped it would be and quite frankly I’m all socially networked out.

2. The art to overcoming that soul sinking Monday feeling is to “power dress” within an inch of your life. I was awarded “Best Dressed” in the office today after donning the following ensemble: blood red heels, black stockings, charcoal grey pencil skirt, red cardigan, turquoise pashmina, grey button earrings and a full face of make-up. The panel of judges where tough but apparently it was my pashmina that won the day ;-)

The mental and emotional benefits of power dressing cannot be overlooked, dear friends.

3. I love me a unique baby name, but Harper Seven...really? I love both those names, seriously. Said together it sounds like some South African slang to replace the expression, “Hoza/Ola Seven”. The play ground will be rough for this little new Beckham edition, with a name like that....luckily she has 3 older brothers watching out for her so she’s sorted.

4. What’s the going price for a Birkin Bag, last I checked it was somewhere in the region of “oh hell no....seriously?” though to “keep a copy of the store invoice and mount it on your living room to show the neighbours.” Either way, that bag will be the Holy Grail of all my bags.

Let me call it a night chickens!

Stay blessed,

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 7): Some wicked advice

2011-07-10T19:36:00.003+02:00

Recently I had the absolute pleasure of catching the musical,
"Wicked"
on Broadway.

Those close to me know that I'm mad,
absolutely stark raving mad about
all things "The Wizard of Oz" related.

Hence it wasn't entirely surprising that when
the last song was sung
and the final curtain came down
tears may have been shed and
noses blown.
'Twas so damn emotional.

One of the major highlights of the show was hearing

THAT SONG sung.
Wicked's signature track,
"Defying Gravity."

I first heard it on Glee and fell in love with it instantly.
(shout-out to Shonavixen, a fellow Gleeker)

When feeling demotivated and lack-lustre about life
or trapped, confused and running on empty.
This is the track that get's bumped triple time
in my car.
(Thanks Shonavixen for the Glee CD hook-up).

The words resonate with me more than ever these days.
I'm calling this period of my life,
"The Great Awakening"
becauses as the opening lines to the song so aptly explain,

"Something has changed within me,
Something is not the same.
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game."

With Monday fast approaching,
I urge y'all this week to participate in
Defying Gravity.

Song lyrics can be found below:

Blogging Challenge (Day 6): Intuition

2011-07-09T21:44:00.005+02:00

Before I begin my post properly, may we just take 10 seconds out to comment on the picture above.

Guys, that's one helluva of a long shark...it's longer than the itty bitty kayak *cringe*

Everything in me is hoping that this poster is one of those photoshopped items, otherwise...yah, as they would say in Zim slang, "it's late".

Back to the post:

Intuition

Sixth Sense

Voice of Reason

Call it what you will, I am in the habit of never listening to it (to my own detriment). Instead I have been known to stubbornly forward march when everything in me is yelling that I should have backed up a couple gazillion miles back.

In the past, and by past I mean everything before this very minute in time (he he), I have been a staunch supporter of forced outcomes. Instead of taking heed that the person or action I insist on interacting with or participating in, respectively, would do me no favours, I come up with an alternative outcome that better suits me and supports my own judgement, as opposed to taking heed of that niggling feeling.

The older I get the more faith I place in this in-built alert system of mine (seeing as my lets-force-issues approach has netted me ZERO results) and if I listen carefully at this exact moment, it is telling me the following:

Remove X from Blackberry Messenger contacts list;

Ship is sinking, ship is sinking, find alternative transportation;

You're too big for this box;

Wait. Don't reach out. Don't contact. Nothing. Wait.

You can help.

Bad news...don't even consider it...why are you still considering it...can you stop considering it already. Yes, I'm talking to YOU.

You're in the right direction.

It's really up to you, the rest of the pieces are there to be linked up.

Most of these messages have been sitting on the backlog list of my "voice of reason" but like they say, better late than never (they also say "better late than pregnant", but i digress).

Care to share what your intuition/sixth sense/niggling feeling/voice of reason is saying to YOU right now?

Holla in the comments ;-)

Love,

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 5): No one digs drama

2011-07-08T17:13:00.006+02:00

Once upon a time...many moons ago...in the days of my youth...i was dramatic (writes the chick abusing ellipses before she gets to the second line of her post).

I wouldn't describe myself dramatic, more like theatrical...yes, theatrical is EXACTLY what I am. These two things are not the same, don't ask me to explain why they aren't the same, i'm just telling you like it is ;-)

Now dramatic...eh, that's just plain exhausting. This week I witnessed some interesting drama of sorts, the type people make up in their head; that in itself probably fully defines what drama really is....made up, unnecessary, has no basis in anything. In short, it's a waste of everyone's time and energy.

I think i now have a more defined definition for you now:

Drama: Draining, unnecessary and just plain sad the older you get.

Theatrical: In regulated doses is HIGHLY entertaining *ahem* otherwise if not regulated can morph into the former definition.

I have met those who major in dramatic significant others as relationship partners, what i like the most about these people (not) is that once they hook up with Ms or Mr Drama they loooooooooooooooooooooooooove to complain about that very same trait that attracted them there in the first place.

Drama has NO place in a relationship.
Drama in casual hookups...heck, sure why not (whatever gets you going).
However, on-going drama in an actual relationship, come on now, that's just sabotage.

Drama also has no place in the workplace.

What are we FIVE???
Having a hissy fit followed by punctuated uncomfortable periods of silence does nothing for your credibility and professionalism.

Drama has no place in world of those over the age of 3 and if so, it better be because "you want to go potty."

We all know we have developments points in our personalities and if you know yours so happens to be DRAMA, accept that is what it is....then address it. 'Cause if i have to witness another too-old-to-be-pulling-these-type-of-stunts individual lose their cool over nothing or get lost in conspiracy theories in their head.

Ah, it's on.

Here's to a drama-free weekend chickens!

Love,

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 4): Claiming back the day

2011-07-07T23:10:00.003+02:00

6:45am: The haze of previously consumed antihistamines make waking up harder than usual, but even through this drug-induced mist I remember.

It’s your birthday today.

8:15am: Find myself going back and forth on whether to acknowledge the day, after all, we haven’t been a “we” for a long time now. Thoughts ricochet across different scenarios and options, I leave for work undecided.

“This really shouldn’t take up so much of my thought process”, I chastise myself, “After all, I can’t let a simple day hold me hostage.”

9:00am – 11:45am: Manage to successfully distract myself and plough through detailed “to-do” list. Who would have thought avoidance could be the cure to my long suffering bout of procrastination (wonders never cease).

Lunch spent with a good friend from work involves lots of laughter and thought provoking discussion over chicken curry and rice.

You don’t cross my mind.

1:00pm – 2:00pm: Participate in some corporate jibber jabber in an office boardroom, secretly wishing for time to speed-up so I can move on to the workshop that follows it.

2:00pm – 5:35pm: Get my mind blown away, in a very good way, during my workshop. Find myself brainstorming and planning with excitement the year ahead. Can’t believe how a day that started so apprehensively could flip on its head like this.

Walk out of workshop eager to apply the teachings and tips that were communicated.

6:00pm – 7:00pm: Still too excited after workshop and find myself bouncing ideas with good friend from work. Walk out of the office with a bounce in my step.

The world feels alive with possibilities.

8:00pm: Send him through birthday email. There’s no beef, our good times far outstrip the bad. Seems silly to have worked myself into a panic in the morning (I blame those antihistamines, loll)

8:04pm: His email response arrives. I smile and respond.

8:06pm: His last email arrives. “Well that was quite simple”, I tell myself and get on with the rest of my night, quite happily.

Moral of the story: Each day is your own and every person has the choice to use it constructively or to be held hostage in it.

I claim back this day and realise that it had always been mine in the first place.

Blogging Challenge (Day 3): Unbeweaveable moments

2011-07-06T17:01:00.006+02:00

Of late I've been scattier than usual. Naturally I want to blame the effects of the Beyonce Blonde* weave-on i'm sporting these days (so cute), but that would be a cop-out.

Ladies and gents, I am beginning to suspect I may have a case of late adult on-set of ADHD :-) Right about now I could do with one of those "Limitless" type pills to help me focus, channel all my energy into one specific direction instead of it being dispersed across a million and one things.

I've read up on all the Zen type books I can stomach, and they all keep alluding to "remaining present in the moment", "being in the moment" and "embracing the moment". It's pretty obvious that The Moment and I aren't on speaking terms and I need to rectify that asap.

So what's a girl to do nhai?

Well firstly, stay away from sugary substances. My natural self if hyper at best without the assistance of glucose, fructose and who knows! Growing up, my mother caught on rather quick that her children morphed into possessed demons when their paths crossed a Sprite bottle or some Mazoe, these "spirits" were reserved for special occasions. Funnily enough, just the other day my co-workers wanted to ban me from indulging in our daily latte treat...apparently I went into hyper-drive and they got scared, lol.

Next, i need to allocate time for certain thoughts. Thinking about everything all at once has proved useless, writing to-do lists has been somewhat helpful....as long as i stick to ONE to-do list and not multiple versions (all lying strewn across my apartment as we speak).

I will attempt saving the world one day at a time...one moment at a time....till then, i'm blaming my Beyonce Blonde weave ;-)

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Speaking of Beyonce: I love this girl, i really do...but can she just go on a PROPER retirement. One where she isn't selling something, interviewing for someone, performing somewhere etc. The girl is over-exposed, in all senses of the word.

From my observations, when women get married they tend to wear more clothes....Mrs Carter is the exception to this rule. She has an amazing body but i'm kinda OVER seeing it all over the place.

There is something in her latest recordings that smells of "overexposure" and "desperation". In her fight to remain relevant to fans, she's losing us one-by-one with this nonsense of hers. Can she just hand the baton over to Kelly (Rowland), who's killing it on the dance scene, and go forth and make some little Jigga's .

End of rant.

Happy hump-day chickens...hope you're all behaving ;-)

Love,

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 2): Just for you

2011-07-05T19:20:00.002+02:00

A hug a day,
Keeps the craziness away....

and just
feels real good :-)

V x

Blogging Challenge (Day 1): The Anatomy of Mean

2011-07-05T00:05:00.006+02:00

The plus side of having a memory like mine is that you remember the most arbitrary pieces of advice or scenarios when you’re hit with a real-time situation. Today’s little flashback down memory lane was no exception:

The year is....errr, let’s just say it’s long before The Age of Cell-phones and more in realm of time of when Madonna could wear white, claim to be “Like a Virgin” and nobody was side-eyeing her... out rightly anyway.

So to set the scene, there I am Little V, sitting in the school hall with a bunch of other kids and its reading time. This is the day I am introduced to the literary genius of one Roahl Dahl in the form of his book, “The Twits” which is ultimately a story of a husband-wife duo who perform hilariously unkind pranks on each other, just nje. One that particular day, the teacher reading the story paused after having read out the latest in a line of despicably funny but mean exploits performed by the couple on each other to issue her own words of wisdom*, that, “People can grow out of a lot of things, but generally, those with a harsh mean streak never grow out of being mean.”

Suffice to say, that comment on meanness stuck with me, unravelling itself in a multitude of ways over time but standing true all the while to that simple statement.

People, more often than not, do not grow out of "mean".

We could be here all day arguing over what motivates or encourages an individual to nurture a mean streak, but the crux of the matter is that if by a certain age you have not seen how this one personality trait of yours is alienating you from forming sincere relationships that are not based on characteristics, such as: intimidation, scorn, jealousy, pettiness and viciousness, then good luck to you.

I sincerely hope you get your wake-up call sooner rather than later.

Digression:

Things I was told when I younger that I would grow out of and have resolved that I never will:

1. My current bra size: Before my mother realised I had inherited her side of the family’s lack of boobage, she was so optimistic that I would experience life beyond a b-cup, suffice to say, I am still waiting for paternal genes to kick in.

2. Allergies: Maybe allergy meds have advanced over time so they mask the symptoms better, but who are they kidding, nobody grows out of seasonally allergies, tsk tsk.

3. Cerelac: The only thing stopping me from consuming this yummy cereal, targeted towards newborns, every day of my life is the knowledge that my waistline will expand in a short space of time due to the ridiculous amount of kilojoules per spoonful.

4. Fluffy type chick-lit: I hope to goodness I NEVER grow out of reading this genre because nothing tickles the inner cockles of my heart quite like reading how Arab sheiks or Greek heirs succumb to the charms of some damsel of sorts. Predictability is the name of the game in this genre, with its formulaic story lines...thing is, I find comfort in this obviousness.

5. My flair for the dramatic: I’m a middle child. That is all.

*It’s worth noting that in that same sitting, this same teacher also informed us Third Graders that brushing one’s eyebrows every morning would avoid us a lifetime of embarrassment going forward in life. She was a wise teacher this one ;-)

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In other news:

Thanks to Shonavixen (of www.iamshona.com) for challenging me and a host of other bloggers to get to this 30-day blogging challenge. I can’t promise that every post will make sense, but here’s to keeping to it ;-)

Shameless Promotion: If you do have some time, please pass by www.diasporandarlings.com and read up on the latest host of articles recently uploaded. Don’t forget to get your commenting on ;-)

Have a good one chickens!

Love,

V x

The Reason: Diasporan Darlings

2011-06-03T00:40:00.003+02:00

Hello chickens,
very long time right!
Now, you may have thought i had given up the writing gig,
but that's not true.

The main reason that i've been AWOL
is that Kooks and I were hatching up our "baby" project.

May i introduce you to
Diasporan Darlings
www.diasporandarlings.com
www.twitter.com/DiasporanD

A site targeted towards highlighting and promoting Africans who are in the diaspora and those residing on Africa.

Pay us a visit and let me know via comments what you think!

*hugs*

Vimbai

A night of "firsts"

2011-01-24T12:06:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” – Cyndi Lauper circa 1980-something. Enough said.

It is an absolute cliché but this past Saturday night I think I may have lost my heart (and a healthy amount of cash) to a limber Adonis of stripper called “S” *sigh*

What?!

My girls and I had been planning this outing to one of Jozi’s reputable male stripper establishments for weeks. It turns out that getting a table dance has been inadvertently added to the “adult rites of passage” list (read: we were a small minority of individuals who hadn’t ever been to a strip-club before). Did we know what we were fully getting ourselves into? Absolutely not, but you only live once right?

Once our hysterical giggling had subsided and we had plied ourselves with copious amounts of alcohol we then proceeded to have an awesome, awesome time. Sadly enough pictures were taken to ensure that i will never, ever have a successful political future...should i ever feel that way inclined.

Here are a few things I observed from our raucous night out:

1. Personality: Strippers must be fit, but more importantly they must have some personality and be engaging. There’s nothing worse than a shy stripper or one who hasn’t figured out what his stripper alter-ego is (we had one, shame).

2. Ink, ink, baby: Body art of some sort comes with the turf...and it’s kinda hot...very hot.

3. Too much of a good thing is...: It must be both a blessing and a curse to be a Mandingo. The resident Mandingo was very generously “endowed”, but sadly his equipment did more to scare us ladies, than entice us.

4. Don’t judge a stripper by his colour: On arriving and finding out that all the strippers were Caucasian, I will admit I was a bit disappointed a smidgen. After all, as a resident of The Rainbow Nation I would expect a wider variety of flavours, if you get my drift. By the end of the night, I had become a believer...those fellas knew what they were doing.

5. Don’t touch me on my studio: I thought we wouldn’t be allowed to make any sort of body contact, however the fellas encouraged us to roam our hands over their washboard stomachs, broad shoulders and even a butt cheek, now and again. However, certain *ahem* bits were out of bounds (I thought I should just clarify that). One gorgeous specimen did tell us a hilarious story of how a bouncer had to save him from the yanking habits of an aggressive client, she apparently really liked what she saw O_o

6. Rude Boy: I didn’t realise we would see so much....seriously I didn’t.

7. Hide 'n Seek: According to our mixed-race waiter there is no such thing as a male Indian stripper. Not sure how far true that is?

All in all, it was a real eye-opener of a night. I definitely believe that male strippers have a better deal than their female counterparts. I can’t help but assume a female stripper is in that line of business as some sort of last resort, whilst men definitely seem to have some sort of choice.

I forgot to ask The Boys how they had ended up in this line of business, however, I did find out that one was a part-time graphic designer and that the resident Mandingo had realised his *ahem* talents at the tender age of 10 years old.

I may have to pay a second visit, for purely journalistic purposes to get some more answers to my mounting questions ;-)

Holla in the comments!

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In other news:

The second first: On our way back from the club my mate and I got pulled over by the cops. They were on the search for drunken drivers (read: they were trying to make some spare change). Never have I heard a person waffle around the obvious, this female cop spoke in circles...cleverly her intentions where implied rather than forthright, that way she could always deny eliciting a bribe from us.

Back in Zim I have always successfully managed to talk myself not only out of traffic fines but many a bribe. The difference back home is that i usually encounter male cops, who are easier to get around. Sadly, on that early Sunday morning our nemesis was a female member of the South African Police whom left us R100 poorer.

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How time flies! Here’s hoping you make the most of the last week of January 2011, chickens!

Love,

V x

Who gives a boob, anyway?

2011-01-21T10:11:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: Dear Fellas, i speak about noombies/boobs a lot in this post...but not in a way you'd full appreciate. You have been warned. Seriously.

The funniest things make the news these days. I guess when the average attention-span has been hijacked and overloaded with the more serious type stories (think: natural disasters, testy elections, shooting sprees etc) the media decides to relieve us with some non-newsworthy tidbits such as George Clooney contracting malaria (*crickets*) or resurrecting a long-standing debate.

This week the done-t0-death debate that was given a second-wind wastriggered by one model, Miranda Kerr. Ms Kerr debuted a photo of her and her new sprog, with said-sprog latched at the breast of his yummy mummy, who looked in full bloom (pun-intended).

What was meant to be a seemingly innocent picture of "mother with babe" got misconstrued as some subliminal breastfeeding campaign with Ms Kerr playing the role of the self-righteous protagonist. Baby-formula activists everywhere started foaming at the mouth at this implied snub and what i want to know is...

Who gives a boob, anyway?

The answer, it turns out, is not that many people. Breastfeeding shares ranks with the likes of garter belts, glitter nail varnish, Burt Reynolds and jelly shoes: i.e things deemed "unfashionable" amongst women of the current generation *insert eyeroll*

I understand not being able to breastfeed your nunu 'cause you just can't due to complications or that your little bub is refusing...but opting out of it because it's not your thing or you're worried about ithe impact it will have on your noombies....hah, i have no words.

Fair enough, breastfeeding is one of those activities that has been overly romanticised. The healthiest option for your baby it maybe, nevertheless, a pleasant experience for your noombies it is not. My co-worker recently got back from maternity leave last week and took great pleasure on filling me in on the rather alarming aspects of motherhood AFTER the laborious process of child-birth (yes, it only gets worse).

Phrases like "cracked nipples" and "veiny stretchmarks" had me crossing my legs extra tight and screaming for a gestational surrogate quicker than you could say "Nicole Kidman".

At the end of the day new mum's should just woman-up, breastfeed if they're capable of doing so and open a savings account to fund their future full C-cup noombies courtesy of Dr 90201 if need be...breast augmentations, i see you!

Holla your thoughts in the comments, chickens!

PS: I have a theory that the boy-child is never fully weaned from breastfeeding...err, but that's a story for another day.

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Have an awesome weekend, chickens!

To those of you in flood-stricken areas, keep afloat and to those of you in snow-ridden areas, keep warm....and to everyone else count your lucky stars.

Love,

V x

Watch out for those blind-spots

2011-01-16T23:38:00.000+02:00

Picture the scene: It’s a typical Monday morning and I’m whizzing down the M1S highway and negotiating traffic at a semi-decent speed. Noticing that I’m about to suffer the sad misfortune of being stuck behind a slow-moving skorokoro (read: dilapidated vehicle that was around during the Jurassic Age) I spot an opening in the lane to my right. With my indicator ticking away and poised to complete my swift exit from The Lane of Slowness, hectic hooting startles me and I realise that ummm, jah...the coast wasn’t as clear as I thought it was.*

Sometimes that darn blind-spot catches one unawares...and that’s no different when it comes to the blind-spot’s of Life.

Now I’m sure I’ve confessed my control-freakish tendencies on this blog at some point in time, but if there was any doubt as to whether I’ve attempted to Play God, erase those doubts right now. I was never an official girl scout, but I had taken up with such nonsense I would be the holder of many badges right about now. Be prepared is one of favourite mottos to live by. Take for example the crazy weather patterns we’re currently experiencing that have a couple big cities south of the hemisphere flooded to the nth degree. It has not escaped my attention that Joburg is currently attempting to join the aforementioned waterlogged cities at the rate it is raining over here, and I swear, I am contemplating where to get a rubber dingy**, some flares and whether to stock up on tinned food or not, lol.

Sadly there come some situations and experiences that catch you completely unawares, no matter how prepared you may be. These situations don’t happen that regularly (thank goodness) but when they do, there’s no first aid kit, horoscope reading or well meaning words of comfort that can detract from the shock of it all or the unexpectedness.

At times like these, I find myself:

a. Craving a healthy helping of Malva pudding;
b. Only wanting to listen to misogynistic hip-hop tracks with killer beats and rhymes;
c. Bartering with The Almighty (yes, yes, I know...I never learn); and
d. Frantically wishing time could stop for a bit.

Eventually, you figure out how to pick yourself up again from a setback and just get on with it, because there’s no point dwelling over that which you cannot fix.

My Top 5 Blind-spot situations are as follows:

1. The death of a loved one;
2. The end of a relationship;
3. Not getting the job you wanted;
4. Owing the Tax-man a whole lot of moolah; and
5. Getting a flat tyre.

Holla at me your blind spots or blind spot moments.

*No “women driver” jokes or any of the like will be tolerated at this point, thank you very much.
**China Mall in Jozi stocks them at “good price”...I checked J

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In other news:

Dear Mother Superior: In my experience, when people start classing a certain population group as being more superior than others, you are heading into dangerous territories...the kind that conjure up memories of a certain man, with a certain moustache...and a certain swastika.

So imagine my surprise at reading that a Chinese author has written a book about how superior Chinese mothers to mothers of other nationalities and ethnicities. Her theories are based on the fact that the average Chinese mother has high expectations of her children*, to the point that a 5 year olds daily activity schedule could rival that of a 4th year employee of Goldman Sachs.

Clearly Miss Author here didn’t cast her net far and wide and find out from research, that there are a plethora of non-Chinese, non-Asian mothers around the world who demand the best out of their children and will go to reasonable limits to ensure this. I don’t think Chinese mothers are more superior in any way, I think they’re just a little more....err, militant, about how they go about getting results from said-child.

Flashback to the year 1995 and I return home with a test result of 19/20 on a Maths test. The class average is sitting at around 14/20 and my sweet mother is harassing me about that ONE I didn’t get right *insert eye roll* ....and the thing is, my academic history was littered with experiences such as this.

My parents expected the best out of me (still do), if I could get 95% then it meant I could 100%...If i could get 100%, then I could maintain it. People will argue that that’s a lot of pressure for a kid, I agree...however, I would much prefer that type of scenario to one where nobody is expecting anything from you – that’s how we end up with national Matric/final exam pass-rates in the 60-odd % and applaud such nonsense (*side-eye* to SA’s Ministry of Education).

#RantOver

*I wonder if only being allowed to have ONE child in China has anything to do with all the concentrated fixation.

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Chickens, may this 3rd week of the not-so-new year bring you many blessings, and zero blind-spot type scenarios ;-)

Stay motivated and spread the love,

V x

Where Guacamole trumps Romance...

2011-01-09T22:07:00.000+02:00

It’s Day 9 and I’ve either broken or forgotten my new year’s resolutions, instead i’ve decided to relieve myself of the pressure to achieve this quest of self-perfectionism, and as an alternative, dedicate each day to mastering two things. Today’s two things entailed the following:

1. Learn how to make a mean guacamole; and

2. Do not dispense any romantic advice.

My first task came about from my new-found love for Avocados. After a rather painful encounter at the age of 10 years old involving avocados*(see footnote) I had sworn off the things. That is, until a friend of my mine made the most awesome guacamole ever...like EVER, since that time there’s been no turning back. Today I decided to snub my nose at the store-bought variety I’ve been subsisting off the last couple of weeks, and make my own batch. Sadly, it did not go so well and I will be back to the store-bought variety in no time.

The second task I hadn’t initially planned on until I was ambushed on Blackberry Messenger by a friend lamenting her man-less state and asking for tips and suggestions. As an individual who has spent more time as a singleton than in a relationship, I found myself spouting the usual clichés like “these things take time” and “get yourself out there”.

After 20-odd years on this earth, I’ve still got nothing when it comes to matters of the heart. Yes, I may be in a relationship but it doesn’t mean I always know what’s going on. There is no secret formula to this....unless there is, and I’ve been in the dark all this time...err, one of you is going to have to clue me up here :-)

Any who, after much faffing I gave her the best advice I could summon without Googling and that was “pray on it and then just get on with life”...and then vowed to steer clear of giving romantic advice in the future as I’m absolutely rubbish at it.

What’s the best romantic/love advice you have given, or have been given?
Footnote:

• My baby sister and I attempted to re-enact a Palmolive advert, we’d caught on TV that involved wearing an avocado mask. Except we left our masks on too long and proceeded to try and rip it off, one avocado strip at a time...instead of just soak it (don’t ask, we were young and foolish).

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In other news:

What’s up Doc? ‘Tis The Year of Our Lord 2011, aka The Year of The Rabbit (if you’re brushed up on your Chinese Astrology) and here's hoping it’s going to be a great year...the type that dreams are made of, that quickly become blockbuster flicks and novels :-D

Now this year has its work cut-out for it, especially in South Africa. With 2010 being the “Belle of the Ball” by housing the world’s most anticipated sporting competition (read: FIFA World Cup), 2011 is looking every bit like Camilla Parker-Bowles to an unforgettable Princess Di (read: 2010).

It’s early days yet, only time will surely tell.

Harry’s (Harare): I spent two long weeks at home over the holidays and was extremely excited to see that we (Zimbabwe) are creeping back on the map. Tourists could be spotted (why must they be decked out in their safari best, why?), the local arts and crafts industry was booming (check out Doone Estates and Avondale Flea Market if you’re in the areas) and there were a plethora of drinking and eating spots to pick from.

“Choice” and “joie de vivre” has returned to House of Stone.

Random sidenote: There was anomaly that haunted me during the hols at home, and that was this strange new weave being sported by one in five women. I’m guessing the original inspiration behind the do would be Rihanna (given the short sides and longish, curly middle side), however, it was the variety of bright colours and highlights that had me spell-bound. SMH!

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Have an awesome week back in the land of the living, chickens.

Shake off those holiday blues and start making those dreams come true.

V x

A few vows go a long way...sometimes anyway

2010-11-23T15:36:00.000+02:00

Once upon a time, long ago, way before iPods and skinny jeans were on the scene, people got married once and if they had the misfortune of having to do it again, they generally had a different leading bride/groom.

In the past month or so, my unhealthy appetite for all things tabloid has highlighted a pattern that was originally inherent in Hollywood couples, but has somehow trickled-down to us mere mortals...

Renewal of Wedding Vows

I get the "appropriateness" of renewing your vows when you've been together for, let's say over 20 years. After that long, you definitely need a bit of a vow refresher, enough time has passed for you to actually forget what y'all had sworn to do for eachother in the original binding contract, lol

Heck, in this case the aging couple have both probably defaulted on a few of their original vows, so setting the tone for the next 20 years together and reaffirming their love with a "renewal of vows" ceremony, sounds pretty reasonable to me.

What i don't get is couples renewing their vows on a yearly basis (yes Heidi Klum and Seal) or every five years etc I get that things go down in a marriage, where as a way of moving forward you see renewing your vows as a way to do this. But ummm, from what i hear, marriage is hard work and you're guaranteed a few spats on a yearly basis, so from a savings perspective, it may not be in everyone's interests to have ANOTHER ceremony to prove that you're still in it, to win it.

The original vows covered that bit quite thoroughly...well in my humble opinion anyway.

Holla in your comments your thoughts and experiences!

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In other news:

How to spot your colonial roots: Nothing like a Royal Wedding to ressurrect any colonial roots you may have lingering about. When i heard our dear Kate (yah, that Catherine-Catherine business is NEVER gonna catch on missy) had finally got Wills to put-a-ring-on-it....a bloody rock of a ring, at that, my joy was momentarily eclipsed by the stark realisation that I would now never be the Queen of the Commonwealth.

Friends sympathised with me (the good ones anyway), the others told me to stop smoking what i was smoking. I was advised by some that Harry was a better catch than Wills (seeing as he's already got a penchant for Zim girls) and Him didn't know what the fuss was about, as he assumed I already knew i was seeing a prince *insert eyeroll*

To mollify my sense of loss, instead i will start planning the viewing session for the royal gathering and celebrate with my colonisers on this momentous occasion :-)

38 days and counting: The year is winding down, they're fewer cars on the road, people are burnt-out and can be found talking to themselves in office corners.

I'm kind of done with 2010, i barely remember the first half of the year...then again the year hadn't started until the Fifa 2010 World Cup right, lol. The second half has FLOWN by and chocker block full of change and progress.

I would like to dedicated my prayers for 2011 to the people and nation of Haiti, because if there's every been a people or a place that needs a break in the year to come, it's Haiti.

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Chickens, as sluggish and impatient as we are to move on and embrace the new upcoming year , lets make the last few days of the year count for something....and yes, that is my inner cheerleader talking :-P

Stay blessed and motivated.

V x

How to give yourself away in 30 seconds!

2010-09-17T10:39:00.000+02:00

First impressions are extremely deceiving. I don't know about you but i usually need to go in for a third or fourth opinion, at the very least, before i can gauge a semblance of a person's true colours. Once in a while i get it right the first time round, very rarely so though.

Thing is, third and fourth encounters usually take time to reach and we all know that time isn't something we all have a lot of, right? So how do we fast-track this "getting to know you" process....why, play a board game or a card game with the person under scrutiny of course.

Playing board games or card games strips most individuals of pleasantries and reveals what lies below their social facade. You learn whether some is competitive or not, a good sport or not, intelligent/creative or not, honest or otherwise...studying individuals while they play a board or card game is social anthropology at its best and here's why:

30 Seconds

I have guy friends who, believing themselves to be intellectually superior individuals, use this particular board game to determine whether there can be a future with their current "lust interest." One Friday i was invited to witness one of these vetting scenarios under the guise of a Game's Night. Now one of the lads had brought along his current lust interest (lets call her X) a very good-looking chick, who he was very proudly flaunting in front of all and sundry.

Before we knew it, it was game time and the stakes where high. Never had I played amongst such a competitive bunch. Tempers were high, insults where being hurled back and forth and there wasn't a shortage of laughter, at the expense of others.

The most laughter was generated unintentionally by X. I sh*t you not, i still find myself laughing at this chick's ignorance:

Example 1:

X's clue description: "It was a time of exorcism...yes, exorcism of demons."

Team's incorrect responses: The Exorcism, Village of the Damned...

What X had been trying to describe: The Holocaust.

Example 2:

X's clue description: "It's a landmark in London."

Team's incorrect responses: Big Ben, The London Eye, The Tower of London, Trafalgar Square...heck Stonehenge was tossed in there.

What X had been trying to describe: The Eiffle Tower.

People where *dead* around the table, especially my mate who minutes earlier had been looking at X adoringly. Now his expression resembled that of a man who was frantically in search of a rock to crawl under.

Moral of the story - Today's lust interest, may be tomorrow's baby mamma/life mate...meaning she may have to sit and do homework with your little ones, pick wisely...play a game of 30 seconds ;-)

There are so many other games i could name that reveal tthe baser traits of the average human being, such as :

Texas Hold 'Em Poker : Beg, borrow or steal poker chips till you make it...whatever it takes. The real gamblers and strategists rear their heads in this game.

Scrabble: Not reading enough, we'll find out sooner rather than later, not to mention that the Chancers come out in their hordes (there's no such word as hajard!)

Crazy Eight: The first part of this game's name provides some insight into the side-affects of playing it. Noone playing ever has the same rules with regard to what cards count for what. A lot of cussing ensues and even world leaders are looking at getting it banned, just to maintain the peace within households.

Holla in the comments memorable moments when playing board/card games with friends and family....i suspect there are quite a few gems out there.

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Happy weekend chickens! May the force be with you :-)

Love,

V x

Confessions of a Clear-Heel kind

2010-08-20T15:47:00.000+02:00

It was a regular Thursday night, except, ummmm...it wasn't.

It's one thing to find me home on a Thursday night, firmly wedged in the countless cushions on my couch catching ~~Jonas~~The News...and quite another to be in a room full of twenty-odd women, getting pole dancing lessons while decked out in all forms of Chinese-imported flouncy accessories. The latter is an outline of how yesterday's evening went.

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Disclaimer: I'm talking about pole dancing here, not stripping. Those two things aren't the same, close cousins (twice removed) perhaps, but world's apart. So before some of you get on your high horse, no money was offered for performances (although that would have been nice, i would have liked some spare change), clothes remained on (thank goodness) and LOTS, yes lots, of fun was had by all of sundry (i.e. no animals where harmed during any performances).

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Our instructor for the evening was a very young looking blonde chica who was pretty unfazed at having to teach a room full of rather out-going (read: rowdy) ladies pole dancing moves. She came through with the pole, who was eventually named Miguel...and we all got to bond with Miguel.

First up, we were told to choose names. This was met by blinking gazes and then a frenzy of mutterings along the lines of "geez, what kinda name" and "i don't have a name". Funnily, within 5 minutes, everyone had come up with a name...closet alter ego's methinks. Some priceless gems were:

- Pussylicious;
- Golden Sugar;
- Chocolate Thunder;
- The Advocate; and
- (Winner) Never Enough......*dead*

Blondie then took us through some routines, we learnt some tootsie rolls, the flamingo leg lock, a basic swing and some other routine that was nameless but will by "the big finish" going forward. Practice makes perfect, and i am seriously seeing the merits of owning a pole...from a fitness angle of course *coughs*

We learnt all these routines without heels: One really appreciates the finess of those ladies who can execute them in 8 inch clear heels, nogal. It was

We didn't always get it right: Falling, slipping and sliding occured on many occasions, which made for great sources of humour...until it was you on your ass that is. However, we learnt that it's not how you fall, but how you recover that makes all the difference (you'd be surprised how a well placed bum wiggle will fix everything).

We were competitive: For every 3 movements that Blondie taught us in a move, you best recognise, that some of the more out-there ladies threw in an extra 3 movements. I haven't seen as much popping and locking since i last caught a Snoop Dogg music video. Sheer hilarity. I have a sneaking suspicion peeps were downplaying just how much they knew about pole dancing #I'mJustSaying

We got a workout: I made the stupid mistake of wearing high heels to work today. The pain. I'm not walking straight. Parts of me hurt. I'm getting bbm's from other participants about mysterious bruises they're finding on themselves. No wonder strippers look fit...they have to be!

We laughed...HARD: From those who were a tad bit weary, to those who threw themselves into the spirit of things, everybody had themselves a fab time.

Blondie then ended the evening by showing us how it was meant to be done! Gravity was defied many times over and we were more than happy to hand our lesson-money over to her (i lied, some money was indeed exchanged).

Sadly, after having had such a spectacular Thursday night, it's kinda putting undue pressure on tonight's ~~antics~~activities :-)

Holla in the comments your pole dancing experiences or aspirations ;-)

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Have a great weekend, chickens!

Love,

V x

It started with a kiss...

2010-08-15T23:32:00.000+02:00

“You must remember this
A kiss is just a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by”

Casablanca – (As Time Goes By)

Whilst partaking in a boozy lunch on the leafier side of Johannesburg, my friend “X” and I spoke about all things under the sun (both figuratively and literally). As conversations predictably go, especially when they involve women and alcohol, we spoke of relationships, hook-ups and drive-bys.

At some point we got into a debate about whether kissing was considered cheating! I argued yes, she adamantly refused that it was so, nonchalantly declaring that such indiscretions where mostly likely to happen, one way or another.

Now we can ring up some fancy statistics and split hairs all we want...but if you’re engaging in any intimate relations with someone other than your significant other, errrr, you’re cheating. Don’t pull a Bill Clinton “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” defence, we all remember how that one turned out.

As far as I’m concerned, kissing is a gateway drug to other such preambling antics*...after all, we aren’t 12 years old! Seven seconds in heaven isn’t gonna cut it no more.

What I should have asked X was, if she found herself in the position of catching her significant other engaging in a round of tonsil-hockey with someone else, would her cool and “worldly” demeanour remain intact....or would she be singing Chris Brown’s “Deuces” with the rest of us.

Holla in the comments!

*Can you tell I’ve been reading my fair share of Victorian-period novels, lol.

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In other news:

You know you’re getting old when...Nicki Minaj samples Annie Lennox’s “No More I Love You’s” and today’s youth look at you like, “Annie who”. I’ve tolerated Ms Minaj and her brightly coloured hair pieces since her debut...she can flow but up until her “Your Love” track (that I have on repeat), I couldn’t be bothered.

Calling all blackberry users: I’ve googled this particular problem and haven’t found a solution...so here it goes. How do I delete my BB voice notes, they used to disappear completely but now they don’t and the one’s that refuse to delete show a Jan 1st 1970 date, which is pretty random...

Help!

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Happy Monday chickens, keep your eyes on the prize #GenericWordsOfEncouragement

Love,

V x

O_o ...no words...okay, maybe a few

2010-08-06T11:42:00.000+02:00

Open Letter to Montana Fishburne:

Dear Montana,

I don't get it.

Nobody, and i mean NOBODY wishes to be a porn star when they grow up. Ask any porn star out there and they're tale of how they got to where they are is one of poverty, misery, drug abuse, abusive relationships and more poverty.

Now a pretty girl like yourself from a well-off family proclaiming to the world that this line of work is your calling is about as easy to reconcile as....nothing, you're the first of your kind (and hopefully, the last).

I would like to think that this obvious cry of attention of yours is some way-ward form of rebellion and/or unresolved Daddy issues but baby girl, one thing is for sure, some things can't be un-done and this is one of them.

PS: In response to your much publicised, delusional quote:

"I hope it's not hurting [my dad].
It wasn't done to hurt him.
But I think it will take time and talking through the issues.
Eventually, I hope he will be proud of me.

*DEAD*

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In other news:

Inception..Deception...Contraception: Demmit, i am loving the names of flicks these days! I haven't caught this movie . I'm working through a serious movie backlog due to the World Cup taking precedence.

Random side note: I was having a discussion with a friend who claimed that Leonardo DiCaprio can't be taken seriously in "mannish" roles, as he will always have that boyish charm about it...unlike say Brad Pitt who is very pretty but still carries off mannish roles very well.

I don't agree, i think Leo has come into his own...in fact, with his wolfish looks he reminds me of a young Jack Nicholson.

What say you?

V is for Vampire: Damn you Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyer for feeding my insatiable thirst for all vampire related literature, TV shows and flicks with the exception of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (that was truly a CRAP show, at best).

I'm besotted with these blood-sucking characters...so much so that i'm now hanging out in the "Young Adult" section of the bookstore *cringe*, stocking up on notable titles like the Blue Blood legacy by Melissa de la Cruz or Marked (House of Night) series by P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast.

Funny story: I had some contractors at my place fixing up some stuff and when it came time to write-up the invoice, one of the contractors asked me my name, except he really didn't me properly because he then started calling me "Vampire". Errrr, yah. I was confused. When i spelt it out for him, he then accused me of misleading him by pretending my name was Vampire.

No words.

Speaking of Anne Rice: She's turned the Christian world on its head by declaring she's done with the religious institution that is Christianity BUT is still all for Christ. As contradictory as it sounds, i get her point...but it seems a bit of a radical move. Hypocrisy and bigoted behaviour is ever present in all religions, when it comes down to it, it's all about the relationship you have between you and your maker.

As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I
refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be
anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be
anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In
the name of …Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.

Now whether one can remain spiritual without being religious is the big question for all... as is whether one can be Christian without going to church and partaking in Christian practices.

Lots of food for thought here! Holla in the comments.

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Oooops, i've rambled on long enough. Chickens, have a great long weekend and keep safe!

Love,

V x

How to rock stunna shades in bed

2010-08-03T12:50:00.000+02:00

It’s been just over two weeks and i believe I have successfully channelled “Anne Wintour”. My stunna shades and I are one. I don’t go anywhere without them. I wear them ALL the time. Name the place, i’ve probably worn them there.

In the mall.
In the bath.
In bed.
Heck, i even wore them in church....

Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks of judgement. Oh yes, i’ve seen the inquisitive looks, the dismissive looks. I know what some of them are assuming.

I’m famous.
I’m a Diva.
I’m hungover.

I'm high.

I'm blind.
I’m STUPID.

Trust me, I feel real stupid wearing them everywhere... but try to part me with my shades and I’ll have to hurt you...I’ll have to hurt you real bad.

You see, it will be exactly 19 days, today, that i had a cornea transplant in my left eye *pause for dramatic organ type music*.

It’s been a surreal experience, one that has taught me the following:

· Eyes work like boobs: They draw you in AND they work in pairs. So if there’s a problem with one, the other one will have sympathy pains.

· Those little pills pack a mighty punch: I now know why John Mayer waxes lyrical about sleeping pills. For a week after surgery, they were my close friends. Sleep would not come without them, and when it arrived after popping one of those bad boys back, so did the CRAZY, vivid dreams.

· Dr Darcy: Good looking practitioners’ facilitate speedy recovery in patients...according to me that is. My eye surgeon is the reincarnation of Mr Darcy from Pride of Prejudice. Given the fees he charges, he definitely has a Pemberly-esque mansion in the ‘burbs. Do we have any takers, ladies?

· Too many people have watched Jessica Alba’s movie “The Eye” *shudder*;

· Cabin Fever can be fatal: I nearly slit my wrists i was so bored. Lying in bed, in a dark room, unable to read anything, unable to watch anything, alone with my thoughts...it wasn’t pretty.

· I’m not ready for a baby: Waking up every 2hrs to take medication in the first week humbled me. New parents keep a similar timetable for longer periods of time and all I can think is...it must be a labour of love.

· R-E-S-P-E-C-T : I have deep, resounding respect for the technological advancements in the medical field. Who thought this up? Who perfected it? Who were the guinea pigs (ouch)?

· Love Is: To be surrounded by love when you’re at your most vulnerable is a wonderful thing. It’s a blessed thing:

Love is The Almighty who heard my prayers and made sure everything went as I’d requested.

Love is my mother flying in to wait on me hand and foot without complaint or need for reciprocity.

Love is my father calling ALL the time to make sure I’m okay and remind me that physical distance ain’t no thing.

Love is my brother and sisters distracting me with their tales and stories, making me laugh when all i wanted to do is cry, fuss or feel sorry for myself.

Love is Him cutting a trip short to be by my side me and patiently listen to my irrational fears.

Love is my girls who kept tabs on me using all technology available to them.

Love is those unexpected calls from people you least expect.

Love is the stranger who signed themselves up for organ donation not knowing their selflessness would improve the quality of life of someone they would never know in their lifetime (i can't say thank you enough).

Thankfully, I need my stunnas less and less every day. Yesterday was my first day back at work and it took everything in me not to pull them out of my bag during a meeting and whip 'em on - the questioning looks would have been too much, lol.

Holla back and let me know what i've been missing on blogville & the world at large (names may be changed to protect the guilty :-))

Have a glorious Chewsday, chickens, and stay blessed.

Love

V x

Prelude to a Dream

2010-06-22T10:20:00.000+02:00

So over at the AfriQan Times site, i've published a new blog post entitled "Prelude to a Dream", drop by and leave me a comment s'il vous plait.

==============<() Toot Here

Now I know I'm not alone here by thinking this whole World Cup affair is not only truly awesome but the most mind boggling event ever! So much is going on, nothing is going as planned...it's ridiculously exciting.

So i've got some questions to ask, so humour me and let me know what you think in the comments:

1. Which team do you believe has played the most consistently thus far?

2. Which team or teams are you supporting?

3. Which team DON'T you want to see going through to the second round?

4. What team, so far, has the most stylish home/away kit?

5. (Ladies, this one's for you) Which World Cup player is currently your "Hottie of the World Cup"?

6. During what game and by which player has your favourite goal of this World Cup been executed by?

7. Which team's performance has disappointed you the most?

8. If you could re-watch a game thus far, which one would it be?

9. Are you a fan of the Vuvuzela?

10. Do you want more football or are you officially done with the woo-hah that is this FIFA World Cup?

You don't have to answer all the questions, just the ones that leap out at you!

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Chickens, it's a truly Beautiful Game and i'm with you every step of the way!

PS GO BAFANA BAFANA...today's your day to make history!

Love,

V x

Philip Eats Here (Feel It, It's here)

2010-06-16T08:33:00.000+02:00

Ola Chickens,

Rumour has it there's a FIFA World Cup happening on african soil, eh, that's news to me...

LOL, I'd bhave to reading under an extremely soundproof and media-proof rock not to realise that the greatest sporting event of 2010 was happening on my doorstep!

So no, I haven't neglected to mention it on my here blog, where you will find my World Cup ramblings is over at my Afriquan Times blog (link: http://www.afriqantimes.com/Public/Template8/ThreadView.aspx?tid=35641).

My usual non-WC blog posts will continue here, but please hit a drive by at my AQ blog and drop a comment for your girl (read: help make me look good).

In the meantime, let my return to catching up on my zzzzzz's...you wouldn't believe how demanding and continuous this footie fever is! Philip definitely Eats Here, lol!

Love,

V x

The One about The Rooster and His Chicks

2010-06-07T15:26:00.000+02:00

It's story time folks and boy do i have a story for you!

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Not so long-ago, in a land not-so-far-away, lived a Rooster. Now this Rooster was a big deal and liked people from far and wide to know he was a big deal. He was particularly proud of his Hen wives, they were the best-looking (?) in the land, always being actively pursued by the #1 chicken talent agency in land, "Nandos" (ka ka ka).

Anywho, the Rooster realised after a while that he wasn't providing each wife the same amount of quality time. The more wives he acquired, the less time he had for all of them. Farmer John raised it to the Rooster a few times, and suggested he either cut back on the hen-wives or to bring in a new rooster to assist with the "quality time backlog", but the Rooster wasn't having it. He wanted more wives so that everyone in the land would know he was a big deal.

The older wives weren't so happy with the arrival of newer, fluffy hen wives, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Yes, when joining the coop they had been debriefed about the coop dynamics and potential expansion plans, but they were so overwhelmed and excited by the prospect of being the wife of a Rooster (who's a big deal) they dismissed the fine print.

Now they say idle beaks are the devil's playground and these neglected hen wives grew more and more restless by the day. They all hadn't had "quality time" with The Rooster in a long while and were starting to consider the advances of neighbouring Roosters (who weren't such a big deal, but available).

Upon hearing that some of hen wives where "scratching" around on him, The Rooster grew livid...he called a coop meeting to oust the traitors. The hen wives, knowing they were all guility of losing interest in The Rooster in one way or another grew defensive...the more The Rooster crowed, the more they clucked, until, tired of his self-important crowing, they pecked him to death.

The End.

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In some unrelated news, turns out that Jacob Zuma's 2nd wife has been caught out stepping out on Le Presidente with her *cliche alert* bodyguard. Even more interesting is that she's pregnant...baby-father at this time is unknown (but i have my hunches).

Turns Mrs 2nd-Wife-Zuma didn't like the idea of JZ getting himself a 3rd...4th...5th wife. Actually, she was positively livid and caused up a stink that cost her a whole (wait for it) goat. In Zulu culture, to apologise for "bad behaviour" the offending person's family must pay the offended persons family a white goat.

Not sure why Mrs 2nd was all that surprised that JZ was taking on another wife, after all she was his second purchase isn't. Turns out the beef was a bit deeper than that. Being a polygamist is akin to being the chief tightrope walker in a circus.

Everything has to be in balance, all weight...or rather affection, money, attention must be evenly distributed or all hell breaks loose. So if you, for example, took one wife on holiday to an exotic island...then taking the other wife to the local bed 'n breakfast ain't gonna cut it. If anything, you should probably start being wary of food prepared by the bnb-going-wife...i'm just saying!

150 years ago, polygamy was the norm, my paternal grandfather was raised in a polygamous household, until the timely arrival of the Methodist missionaries into the House of Stone. If they landed, then i guess this wouldn't be such a meaty topic as it is today.

There are arguments that polygamy would solve a man's need to go forth and conquer outside the marriage bed. However, having 1 or 8 wives at home won't stop a man from cheating, purlease.

The other thing is children from polygamous households usually never take the same root. Memories of either their or their mothers mistreatment or neglect puts them off the idea of repeating history. I knew a girl who would come to school crying every day whenever her mother was out of town, this was usually when the other wives took out their jealousy or frustration with a targeted wife, by tormenting the absent wife's children.

I know of a businessman who, with 25 plus children running around on this earth, decides which children he'll shower his gifts on based on his relationship with the mother and how good looking the children are (messed up).

I wonder if there are any men or women within our generation who have seriously considered the idea of more than one wife or being an accessory wife?

Then again, when i think of it, having multiple mistresses/masters or friends with benefits who have wife-like benefits and privileges is the new strain of polygamy these days. It never really left...just morphed.

Holla in the comments!

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Have a great one chickens...and Roosters :-)

Love,

V x

A "Jane Austen" Moment

2010-06-03T14:45:00.000+02:00

“It’s a truth universally acknowledged that...

African parents fly into a mad panic when their female offspring start approaching a certain age and the topic of marriage hasn’t been broached. True to form, my parents are in no way different and given their recent antics, are willing to break traditional parenting rules to get their point across...loud and clear.

Picture the scene: It’s a calm Sunday night, I’m winding down and prepping for the impending work day ahead of me when my Blackberry pings, signalling the arrival of an email. Thinking it’s one of my diasporan girls hollering, i nonchalantly reach for it, while simultaneously attempting The Sunday Times crossword (i only managed to get 5 words, hmmmph).

A glance at the email confirmed the impossible, that hell had well and truly frozen over.

Reflecting back at me was an email from my darling father...that wasn’t the shocking part...the distressing bit was the email subject title, and i quote, “Why are Black Women scaring off their Men?”

*crickets*

Now I’m not somebody accustomed to having nothing to say (many can vouch for this fact), but yah, gobsmacked doesn’t even begin to describe it.

After being dumbstruck for a marathon time of 5 minutes, my temper set in. I wasn’t so much seething as i was MAD...hopping mad. Please note, i hadn’t actually got round to reading the email yet, i just wasn’t happy about what the subject title implied...that if i was a black woman of a certain age and single, i was obviously actively going out of my way to scare the fellas off *smh*

A “sisterhood tribune” was necessary: Sister #1 was called, she found the whole thing hilarious and my father’s concern endearing, “He’s just concerned Vimbi, the man is feeling his mortality.” She was to “zen” for my liking so I bid her a hasty adieu. Now given global time zones, i knew it would be cruel to holla at Sister #2 and reasoned that I should probably sleep on it. Note, i still hadn’t got round to reading the email.

6:10am Monday morning, Sister #2 rings (clearly she’s not so concerned about disrupting my REM cycle, hmmph) and informs me that under no circumstances am I allowed to respond to The Email. You see, I’m not exactly the family diplomat, I’m prone to dramatic language not to mention, I’ve been told my voice levels climb an octave or two when distressed. Sister #2 calmly explains my father’s motivation in sending such an email and that she agrees with some points raised, she too sounds very zen-like (yes, that gene clearly skipped me). That’s when I stubbornly conclude that I should probably read The Email.

Ten minutes later, I’m less scandalised but not completely mollified. I still don’t understand what made papa dearest send The Email. You see, although we were raised on healthy doses of the The Cosby Show and my dad reminds me of the character Cliff Huxatable, do not be mistaken, my father is 100% African. This means, when it came to raising us girls, it was implicitly communicated that he did not want to hear any romantic mention of the male specimen unless it involved marriage, otherwise he was indifferent. So all boys who came a-visiting when growing up where dutifully introduced as “friends” and rushed out of the house asap.

Clearly the policy has changed, papa dearest now wants to school us on the wants and needs of the African man and give my sisters and I a heads up...this has reduced me to giggling hysterically.

A phone call to my mother, confirmed all suspicions. Yes, they were concerned, or as my mother eloquently put it, “Where are my grandchildren?!” Followed by a thinly veiled threat, “We are looking into arranged marriages.” That got me worried; my mother has always been a poor judge of character when it comes picking out potential suitors for my sisters and me. She inadvertently picks the one who sucks up to her the most, the one who’s just a tad bit too smooth and general randoms.

Nope, this woman cannot be trusted, neither can her accomplice husband. A week before I moved to Jozi, my father craftily put an ex-boyfriend’s of mine’s father on the line, so that my ex’s father could explain in length that my ex and I would be living in the same city again and it was in everyone’s best interest that we “link up” *insert subliminal nudging and eyebrow waggling*

This situation is getting too Jane Austen for my liking...next the parental will be talking about the yearly income of so-and-so, the prospects of every bachelor within a 100km radius and what a great family so-and-so comes from.

I think it’s wise to give HIM the head’s up that gentlemen visitors may start to come a-calling and it’s none of my doing *smh*

Holla in the comments chickens :-)

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Random Soundbytes

SATC: I won’t give away any spoilers, there’s so little to this movie that one line could give away the plot, ka ka ka. Okay, I’m being cruel, but I am the only person who feels a little sad for these mama’s running around Manhattan like they’re youngsters? Half the characters show some progression in life, the other half, eish...see for yourself what I mean.

But where they never go wrong is the clothes and the shoes! Surprisingly, the belle of this sequel ball is Miranda. Carrie’s looks are too overboard at times, Samantha’s over exposed, Charlotte’s doing her stepford wife thing, nothing new there.

The Warriors: Didn’t catch the Zim vs Brazil game, but the tweeting commentary on Twitter was so real-time, i felt like I was at the National Sports Stadium! So we didn’t school the Samba Kings quite how we would have wanted to, but it was a great game and my country people had a lekker time. Wish I could have been there *sigh*

Thank Me When? So Drake’s album only drops in stores in 12 days time, i.e. a lifetime away, so i may have coerced very good friends in emailing me a few tracks. Now ordinarily i would feel bad, but Drake himself said, and i quote, “I gave away free music for years so we’re good over here...just allow it to be the soundtrack to your summer and ENJOY! June 15th!” And my current soundtrack it is, i will still buy the album when it drops, nothing like poring over album sleeves :-)

PS I’m super obsessed with his track, “November 18th” off his ‘So Far Gone’ mixtape, “Closer” from his ‘Comeback Season’ mixtape and “Karaoke” & “Un-thinkable” from his ‘Thank Me Later’ album...yes, i’m crushing hard on Aubrey.

Afriqan Times: World Cup teams have descended upon the city of Gold and this city will never be the same again! For the next month and a bit I will be reporting on all the WC excitement and activities on the ground over at my Afriqan Times blog. I’ll post links to that blog, over here so you don’t miss out on the going’s on.

Like here, I’m hoping you’ll overcome your shyness and drop a comment here and there (read: help make me look good people, lol).

Pay me a at The Afriqan Times here.

Shout out to my girl Kookie for hooking me up with the gig! Check out her blog here.

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Keep smiling chickens, catch you back here real soon!

Love,

V x

The Ever-Shrinking Pool of Romantic Talent (ESPORT)

2010-05-23T21:20:00.000+02:00

This past week on Twitter i was highly amused by some of the tweets i saw my tweeps exchanging, related to when it's deemed appropriate or inappropriate to pursue a fellow friend's ex. Advice like; "never", "only if you've asked permission from the friend in question" and scientific formulas (not if said ex = relationship lasted more than 6 months within in the last 5 years), where volunteered.

Clearly there's no "easy" solution to this predicament, however, it's not a predicament that's going away anytime soon.

I don't care what country, city or town you currently reside it or the ratio of men to women in these regions, the bottom-line is that demographic locations have are suffering from the worldly chronic problem of ESPORT (Ever-Shrinking Pool of Romantic Talent).

I've been known to refer to Harare as "Sodom & Harare" given the alarmingly increasing rate of ex recyling going on there (some people, who will remain nameless, seem to be the very common denominator in most of these *ahem* transactions). However, having lived in Joburg for two years now, ESPORT is deeply manifested here too.

After you stay in a place everything shrinks; social circles shrink, dating options shrink, hanging spots shrink...i could go on. There's no easy solution to addressing ESPORT, albeit changing geographic locations every couple of years, and this business of "you can't hook up with my ex" doesn't really solve the problem either.

In an ideal world, we'd all be eager to bless the unions of our former flames with our current friends. After all, just because me and my ex weren't a compatible twosome doesn't mean i should stand in the way of my ex and my friend in discovering their romantic compatibility...right?

In the real world, we may be an evolved species but there are very primal territorial traits that all but yell, "Back off if you know what's good for you. I've pee'd (metaphorically speaking, unless you're R Kelly) there. That's MINE."

So what's my proposed solution, aside from suggesting relocation to newer hunting plains? None really. When it come's to matter's of the heart, nothing's ever straight forward innit...

Holla in the comments your thoughts and experiences!

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Flags in the City: South Africa has officially gone flag crazy! Streets, cars, people are brightly adorned in flags of the participating nations in the FIFA 2010 World Cup. Yesterday, i paid a visit to the local hair salon and was taken aback by the pretty lady sporting hair extensions in all the colours of the South African flag. If that's not national pride, heck, i don't know what is.

About 3 weeks ago, the only flags you would spot on cars would be the South African one, the only football jersey's you'd see people decked out in would be Bafana Bafana's. Now, in the last few days i've noticed a dramatic turnaround; on Football Fridays people are now wearing the football jersey of the team they're actually supporting and, diplomatically, most cars have two flags...the South African one and the "other" team's flag.

After watching the Champions League final last night, it reignited the anticipation and excitement of the impending World Cup celebrations and activities. It also injected just a teensy bit of dread, HE wouldn't let me change the channel last night...i could got a sneak preview of how remote-control handelling is going to pan-out till July 11th 2010, boo!

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Have a great week chickens, remember all we have is RIGHT NOW!

Love,

V x

PS I'm messing around with blog templates, yup, it's that time of the year again :-)

Tales from The Land of Oz

2010-05-13T11:55:00.000+02:00

I'm sitting by my desk and slowly fading like a Kariba sunset. It's nearly 3pm, however, my jet-lagged body is me that it's 11pm and i should start winding down. Crossing multiple time zones is only for the strong at heart, lol.

Just over 24hrs ago, i was waltzing into OR Tambo after having spent a glorious week in Sydney, Australia. Just over 24hrs ago, my sleep-deprived self was almost reduced to tears on learning that my luggage didn't make it back with me. Just over 24hrs ago i was mentally calculating my next trip back to that side of the world (these calculations involved selling my living room furniture and living off chicken noodles for the next few months).

I wish i had kept a travel journal or something, but that's pushing it really, hahaha. So instead, i will share with you some rather random observations i made while on holiday....i'm sure if i miss vital points Kookie can refresh my memory, she was my Australian hotline counsellor who had to put up with wide-eyed-tourist-type observations (God bless you hun, you were a sport):

1. The men are super tall, like dude-are-you-gonna-fit-in-the-elevator type tall. I’m surprised the Australians don’t have a booming basketball culture, they’d be reaping in that cash!

2. There is no such thing as Australian local cuisine, instead they borrow on everyone else’s culinary influences, with Asian food be the primary dominator in the food market and good ole fashioned English favourites, coming in a close second. I was happy to note that I saw many a Nandos franchise within various suburbs (mmmmmh, yum), but was super sad to see that my all-time favourite Nandos meal, "strips and spicy" rice didn’t feature on their menus (boo!).

3. The city populous is kitted out, from head-to-toe, in fashionable threads, so much so, that you’d think you were living out an ad campaign. Imi ka, they aren't playing around! Sadly, the general price of clothing was enough to give those of us, who live in 12 months of the year in Rand (R) currency, palpitations.

4. I have a distinct feeling that the general Aborigine population within Australia is on the extinction list. On my previous trip to The Land of Oz, a few years back, i did manage to spot them, but in the greater metropolis areas i guess they don’t even feature. They are truly a marginalised people.

The upside is that there’s been a lot of press lately around a new Aussie supermodel of Aborigine origin, by the name of Samantha Harris (not that E! Hollywood presenter). Hopefully, she can raise the profile of her people, for the better.

5. The Aussie accent is definitely NOT contagious, even for an accent slut like myself. You're not going to catch me suddenly proclaiming "how’s you's" anytime soon :-)

6. Coming from a continent where cross racial relationships and interactions always seem to be steeped 300 years of underlying discourse, no matter which way you look at it, it was a breath of fresh air to interact with Australians, less complicated.

7. Australia has a soccer team playing in the World Cup (WC). How did this little piece of information escape me until i got there (don’t judge me..or touch me on my studio, lol). Good news is they're hyping the WC over there and are super excited!

8. Aussie television makes the SABC look good...yup, that bad.

9. Lots of cash, but not so much flash: Not the most materialistic of nations, Aussies prefer to downplay their wealth and play it cool. Spotting any automobile fancier than an Audi was a rarity in itself, it’s very much Honda and Toyota country, people.

10. Rumour has it Aussies pay 50% income tax (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong), which is steep... real steep. However, you can really see that all that tax money is being used for something. They say you can’t put a price on “peace of mind”, i think the Aussies have come close...real close.

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Other trip highlights included:

Family Reunion: My family was in one place and guess what, it wasn’t Christmas, lol. Geez i miss my people man. This diaspora living business is getting OLD!

John Mayer concert: What that man can do with a guitar is illegal, and that voice *sigh* Sadly, my love affair with this particular character is over. I love his music, but i’m a bit over his persona (you can gloat now Shona!)

Hotel living: If only breakfast everyday was a full-on buffet and room service was a call away, i would be a very happy lady...a very overweight one too, but happy nonetheless. Don’t even get me started on great smelling soap they had in the rooms and the fluffy bathrobes...bliss man, utter bliss.

Partying like a Rock star: Sampled the night life (and many a beverage) in some hiphop clubs in the city, one of which was interestingly located in the middle of the Red District.

Note to everyone: When standing outside of a club...in a red district...and upon hearing Rihanna’s “Rude Boy” blaring from said-club, do NOT start dancing in a suggestive manner and sing-a-long loudly, “Take it, take it.” You’re just asking for trouble ;-)

Tourist stuff: I will never get sick of the Harbour Bridge, the Sydney Opera House however, that i may be a tad bit warried/indifferent about. I frolicked in Hyde Park (why is Hyde Park a posh area, no matter where you are in the world) where the fam and i checked out St Mary’s cathedral and the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Bondi beach was lovely, reminded me of Clifton beach (Cape Town) in the summer.

The Friends: These are the troopers that put up with my calls during work hours or after hours, when they were trying to wind down from a crazy work day. Whether it was arranging our entertainment, feeding us or just making sure my siblings and I experiences the full benefits of Sydney sans parents, these guys pulled through.

That all said and done, it’s good to be home!

There is really nothing like having an entire bedroom and bathroom to yourself. Not to mention, i don’t think i could take another turbulent flight without being tranquilised first.

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Chickens, have a safe Phuza Thursday and holla in the comments y’all!

Love,

V x

I've been bitten

2010-05-03T10:18:00.000+02:00

The travel bug has got me...it's got me good!

Now if only my bank account could match my travelling needs, i would be set for life.

This sudden wish to see it all was revived after a trip to the southern part of Mozambique, Ponta D'Oura, a weekend ago. It's been pissing cats and dogs for the last 3 weeks and what do you know, as i type this, there's a torrential downpour going on, so i didn't have to be asked twice to head off in search of sun and surf!

Being 1/16th Mozambican (my great-grandmother wandered over into Mutare from Mozambique during the late 1890's during some war-conflict) i thought it was high time i had a look-see.

First-off, we road-tripped there and back....it took nine hours...NINE HOURS. For some reason i was under the impression that Ponta D'Oura was a mild 5 hrs away...somehow, i did not factor in crazy pot-holed towns, damn goats loitering on the road and the fact that it isn't a fire drive.

Being the proud occupant of the back seat in the car, i passed the time dozing off or lamenting on how incestuous the natives of small-towns looked. Now i wish i could say we blended in, when we stopped for bathroom breaks or directions, but nope, you can clearly spot Townies a mile away. We're loud, we're brash and we have that Toto-we're-not-in-Kansas-anymore bewildered look on our faces, hehehe.

During the trip i was saddened every time we went through a tollgate...being a tollgate operator must be the LEAST self-actualising job there is out there. Most tollgates are located in the middle of bloody nowhere, they sit in insolated booths all day long and i'm sure they're a constipated lot (i doubt bathroom breaks are encouraged).

Eventually, we reached the border which compared to the likes of Beitbridge (Zimbabwe/South Africa) border is a breath of fresh air. I have never seen such a chilled lot. There were no queues, the immigration agents were friendly, no-one searched anything...it was so surreal, i was waiting for an immigration officer to pipe up, "surprise, gotcha!"

Once on Mozambiquan turf, i realised that people weren't joking about the road conditions. It wasn't so much that the roads were bad, more like, there weren't any roads to speak of, just car tracks in undulating sand-dune type terrain. Luckily the whole car ride was less than 15 mins to our accomodation, which was a lovely resort complete with a very tame baby monkey to greet you on arrival.

There were 8 of us, in total, on the trip and days weren't long enough to maximise on the great weather, chilli'd prawns and splashing about in sea. Speaking of the sea, i don't know why i thought i could calmly tread water without having to submerge my chemically straightened hair. That was wishful thinking, 'cause by wave number 4, all hope of keeping the hair dry was lost and i sported a frizzy type 'fro for the rest of the trip.

The only drawback were the mosquitos, no matter how much bug spray and lotion I smeared on myself, the little critters managed to find a random spot on my body that i didn't cover! It's been six days since i got back and i'm still itchy!!!!

Random confession: My random jaunt across the border highlighted my lack of travel on this fine continent of ours. It's extremely embarrassing to admit that i've covered more exotic destinations and haven't really checked out my own backyard, so to speak. So my mission going forward to check-off what i haven't seen of sub-Saharan Africa, which is a great big chunk!

Holla in the comments about your travelling experiences and any affordable holidaying recommendations!

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Randomosity:

I can be your what? Have you heard R Kelly's latest gem? Seriously, this man ka, he's cheeky. How do you get off singing about how you already have a lady who's number one in your life, but if i'm keen, you can squeeze me in as a Number 2???

Weak! What next...

Justin Beiber: Not sure why there's so much hype over this little fetus? He's a cutie-pie, yes...and he's black-owned (sitting on Usher's record label), but that still doesn't explain why he's been a trending topic for the last 4 months and counting. I also have a hankering suspicion that, that mop of hair/fringe is hiding a monster of a forehead, ka ka ka. Yeah i said it!

Waka waka bleugh: The official FIFA World Cup Anthem suuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks! Fellow Tweep @ZimBlackRose summed it up best when she said, and i quote, "it's horrible, kinda like baby talk mixed with sungura guitars."

Out of all the artists to have on the track, the choose Shakira? There are such better songs out there e.g. Jamali's "Mzansi", K'naan's "Wave your Flag", heck even "Make da circle beeeeegah gets my vote at this point!

What say you?

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Happy Monday chickens!

I came across the following quote, it's speaking volumes to me at the moment:

"It is never too late to be what you may have been" - George Elliot

Lotsa love and hugs,

V x

The Namesakes

2010-04-20T10:14:00.000+02:00

With increasing frequency I’ve been receiving emails, facebook messages and friend requests that are clearly not meant for me. The senders in question send off correspondence with such confidence that sometimes I’m almost fooled into thinking I’m the intended recipient….but I am not.

This is what I get for having a generic email address that very susceptible to misunderstandings. I get on average 15 emails a month meant for countless Vimbai’s out there in the world, subject topics ranging from the amusing to the over familiar.

There’s also the minor hitch of sharing the same first name and surname of at least four other women currently wandering this earth. So many FB requests and messages come through from excited classmates, relatives, exes and colleagues of these Vimbai’s. I don’t get it, it’s not like I vaguely resemble any of them (yes, I’ve sussed them out).

Detailed below are outlines of my favourite “mistaken identity” correspondences meant for my various namesakes:

Vimbai the Mediator

This email had a gazillion family members CC’d. It looked like one of those newsletters meant to unite loved ones across the seas and keep them up to-date with family activities. The first paragraph of this email was dedicate to darling Vimbai who looked like she had been tasked with making right some family feud involving money lent by some now-disgruntled diasporan relative who was threatening some familial comeuppance of sorts.

I replied, to the sender only, to inform them that I wasn’t their target audience. Knowing the drama money issues can cause amongst blood relations, I could help but hope they get this drama resolved.

Vimbai the Witness

Eh, now this sender was on a mission. I received a FB friend request from a rather forward young lady informing me that since she had birthed so-and-so’s child, that we were now “family” come rain or shine.

Now interestingly enough, I recognised the name of so-and-so and realised that this young lady was reaching out to my namesake from a bloodline completely unrelated to mine. Fate would have it that one of my close friends is related to this particular namesake and branch of people carrying the same surname as I. I informed her of her cousin-in-law-of-sort’s desire to be recognised and the FB request, she proceeded to inform me that drama was going down with this baby mama and I was just one of many people who’d been contacted via FB.

I didn’t respond to the sender….i figured life for her was complicated enough without my tuning her she’d got the wrong person and maybe it wasn’t the best way around things to bombard prospective family members with FB messages *kanye shrug*

Vimbai the Planner

This Vimbai is based in Pretoria and running some sort of events management company or a bride-to-be arranging her wedding ‘cause all I ever get is catering quotes and tent hire quotes. She was, and probably is, a very busy lady.

Shout-out to all the ladies doing their own thing and being their own bosses!

Vimbai the Lover

By far my favourite “mistaken” correspondence is from a gentleman whose identity will remain anonymous, but for whom I feel for Smh*. In his email he’s literally begging for forgiveness from his lover Vimbai for various relationship misdemeanours. To the Zimbabwean readers, I’ve included excerpts of the email for your reading pleasure (I would translate it, but it wouldn’t be half as funny):

"Shars why saying things lyk that i din not say unonyadzisa kufamba newe.mudiwa wangu why uchhingofunga zvisina basa nyaya yemakore takataurirana tikanzwisisana inga wani shars...Inini ndini ndingatokunyadzisa bcoz I dnt dress to your standards as wat you said kuti im Junky. Anywa see you mutown darling idnt have option.MOYO WANGU WAKATORWA NEWE BABIE."

Now I got this email last Friday but only took a look at it yesterday, meaning that this gentleman may have wondering why his lady love wasn’t responding to him over the weekend. Eh, I informed him that he had got the wrong lady and wished him luck in all future romantic endeavours, lol.

Holla in the comments any mistaken identity drama you’ve been involved in.

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The Cackle: Sunday morning I was woken up in the early hours by my laughing. I’ve heard of crying yourself awake, screaming yourself awake but laughing oneself awake isn’t as common as I would have hoped.

It wasn’t my first time either; I am repeat cackle-in-the-morning offender. The saddest part is that I don’t remember what was so laughicious in my dream, to begin with. A second after waking up i had it, and then *poof* it was gone like a fart in the wind.

Anyone else ever have this problem, or am I once again alone on this one, lol.

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Ashiness no Vaseline can fix: So now Volcanoes and their ash have decided to make an appearance in 2010, not to be outdone by earthquakes and hurricanes.

Thing is, I can’t help but think that there is someone out there hoping to use The Ash debacle to their favour with excuses like, “I couldn’t make it work Boss, The Ash got out of control (mind you, this worker-bee resides in the southern hemisphere) or “Girl, I know I said I would call…but you this Ash situation, its just got me all confused, you know.”

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The Dirty 30’s: Zimbabwe (aka Lady Z) turned the big 3-0 on Sunday with no real pomp or ceremony, probably ‘cause if we’re honest here, “independence” is a bit of a far-fetched concept not exactly applicable to this pretty lady, right now.

Lady Z experienced some rather tempestuous 20’s, during such time she found herself, lost herself, made new “friends” noone else was impressed with, lost old “friends” who turned out to be “friends” with ulterior motives. She has alienated herself and in doing so, pushed those who love her away.

She’s been rudely mocked and made the butt of countless jokes but those who love her, from near or far, defend her with all their might. Who are they to act like they know who she is, they have not known her for as long as we have, and they do not understand her background like those of us who have grown up with her. All they see is the dark times and dismiss the many years of light and laughter she has brought to us….so many good memories, which make the more recent dark ones that much easier to cope with.

Do not underestimate my Lady. Not all has been lost.

To those who have written her off, fellow natives and on-lookers alike, watch this space…the best is yet to come.

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May peace prevail in your thoughts, on your lips and in your hearts chickens!

Love,

V x

It's not Me, it's You...or maybe it's Me, or You, or Me again

2010-04-14T13:36:00.000+02:00

The longer we live on this earth, the more dysfunctional we become and the more dysfunctional our relationships become. In this day and age of email-this, bookface-that, cellphone-this and skype-that, we 21st century dwellers are spending an inordinate amount of time building, maintaining or ending relationships.

My mother used to shove John Donne's quote, "Man is not an island" down my throat when i was growing up. It was usually raised when she was talking about how aunt so-and-so where coming to visit and how i would be bed-less for two weeks and i would pipe up with some gem like, "don't they have someone else to visit besides us,." which would be swiftly followed by some part of my anatomy being slapped for such insolence (this happened often as i was a cheeky child, lol).

She would then go on and on about how important family (read: general loved ones) are and how we must remember that we don't live in a bubble and that the human condition is built on relationships blah blah blah.

I fear that my mother saw something in me, the very something she probably spent half my childhood trying to beat out of me, hehehe.

She saw the Relationship Fatalist in me. The "i'm done", "i really can't be bothered" or the (cue Brad Pitt's character Tristan from "Legends of the Fall" voice) "Once more, say it once more and you are no longer my brother/sister/teacher/boyfriend/friend/ice-cream vendor"....you get the idea right...

To Love, is to Trust, to Trust is to open yourself to some of life's most time-wasting human relationship dynamics. I have contributed to my fair share to these dynamics...oh how i have contributed *smh* and then there are times i have been on the receiving end of some mind-boggling and just plain cruel tom-foolery.

Now life can become an pretty lonely place if you keep axing people left, right and centre. Now don't get me wrong, some fish definitely need to be returned to the sea...for good, if you get my drift. However, most of the time, a big chunk of time in fact, that which has been misconstrued, broken, abused and taken for granted can be fixed. Should be fixed.

This is definitely one of the better after-effects of getting older; being able to stare down the elephant in one's big fat ego :-)

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Randomosity:

Shake, rattle and roll: This earthquake every ~~week~~ few days business is gone from worrying to ?!?!?. This is not normal. This cannot be normal. Yet, nobody has a real answer. Very suspect.

WiCKED: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I may get to see the Broadway play, "WiCKED" in three weeks time. As the BIGGEST Wizard of Oz fan ever....EVER, WiCKED is the prequel to that particular story. I've heard nothing but fabulous reviews about this show *sigh* i'm such a dork, lol.

"Don't Touch My Studio": Guys, the way people are abusing this phrase is killing me! I watched the clip (Youtube it, if you're still confused about what i'm talking about), have heard the House music mixes for it, this statement has gone viral. Now to take it global!

Zuda's: Have been talking people off the ledge on Twitter, threating to pull an Amber Rose. With Solange followed suit and now Chrisette Michele having takent the plunge, the future trend seems to involve hairless noggins.

I envy anyone who can go bald and look hot...some of us have all sorts of dents and corners going-on that it's best not to dwelve into that terrain. For those northern hemisphere dwellers thinking of giving it ago, i wish you well, for those of you frolicking in the southern hemisphere, might i suggest you wait until winter is thoroughly done before you embark on such a hair-raising (hehehe) missions.

The Aidan vs BIG debate: In a display of some severe delayed action, i am only watching Sex in The City episodes. I don't remember getting in line for this particular bandwagon, but i guess i'm getting an inkling to why women went gaga over this show. Granted, fashion wise the episodes are all a little out-dated (the 90's are challenging the 80's for the "dodgy fashion era" award) but that's what we have movies for.

Now during my catch-up sessions, the Aidan vs BIG debate makes more sense. The age-old question of whether, "nice guys finish last" and if women have made too much of a deal about"settling".

Comments: This is really random but have you guys ever read mainstream news articles on CNN and seen the comments left there by people! Guys, there are some TWISTED individuals. Beats me why CNN has opened such pieces to the general public to express their opinion, but eish, i believe in this particular case that the world's two cents is quite unwarranted...entertaining but not necessary!

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Hope you're revelling in what's left of your hump day chickens!

Be good and holla in the comments.

Love,

V x

Imma Be....

2010-04-08T07:39:00.000+02:00

Imma be Less Naïve: Until the early hours of Sunday morning, I didn’t actually know who Eugene Terreblanch was. I didn’t know there was a pretty large Neo-Nazi following in the North-West Province of South Africa. Then again, I’m not exactly going out of my way to find out more information about resident white supremacists and for some reason, I though that “associations” like those belonged in dirty south of North America and icy terrains of Russia. Guess I was wrong then.

Hasn’t history shown us on numerous occasions that pulling the, “we’re the chosen ones” or ‘we’re the entitled ones” card is a downward slippery slope into the hallows of some sort of ethnic cleansing?

Back to the Eugene character, fair enough, he was murdered and that’s not something to be taken lightly. The taking of life is no laughing matter people. However, the irony at the end of the day is this is a man who communicated and promoted violence and turmoil, so is at all surprising that that was the way he left this earth?

He’s The Maker’s problem now.

*smh* Swastika’s, nothing good ever came out of that emblem.

Love and Peace people, Love and Peace.

Imma be More Expensive: No, this does not mean expensive in the literal sense, i.e. the monetary/high maintenance one, but more in the sub-Saharan expression meaning “to be scarcer”. For example, I would say, “Shonavixen has been so expensive these days, judging by the frequency of her blog posts” - *ahem*, that was just a “hypothetical scenario, hehehe.

Now that the Lenten period is over, it showed me that in order to focus my energies on more character building activities; I would have to cut-back on some things that don’t require my constant input or people that are more options than priority individuals. It sucks, but during my 40 day hiatus, I realised that something had to give!

Imma be Drake's Numero Uno Fan: It’s possible I’ve been living under a rock for the past year, but I know that’s not it. It’s more a case of people creating mad hype about a thing or a person that inadvertently puts me off the thing or person. Classic current example being that iPad thingy-majig *eye roll*

“This album’s for my fans, but yo this hook is for my exes.” – Replacement Girl

Anywho, as the age old saying goes, where there’s smoke there’s fire and let’s just say, I’m burning up here. I got my hands on his two mixtapes, from the most unlikely source ever, and it’s be bliss ever since. He’s a lyrical savant, I love me a quotable lyricist, and this boy covers a range of topics from the sensitive to the mucho to the comedic, he covers the all. He’s made it easy to like him. Very easy.

“If Hov is Jordan, I guess I’m cool with Pippen.” – Going in for Life

Holla your, “Imma be” statements in the comments!

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Alright chickens, enjoy the last few days of the week and stay blessed!

Love,

V x

Window seat, please!

2010-03-29T21:21:00.000+02:00

There’s nothing like clutching one’s boarding pass, getting on a plane and somewhere between take-off and the pinging and flashing of the “seat-belts” realising you’re travelling in a hunk of metal in the sky…

In THE SKY!!!!

This is round about the time when the soles of feet get real sweaty and l start plotting my exit strategy. Yes chickens, I plot exit strategies in THE SKY, anything from the more practical, “Errr, Vim there’s no exit strategy, you’re in THE SKY remember” to the, “So Edward from Twilight will come flying in and save me before the plane plunges to its doom.”

Given my various anxieties about airborne travel, nothing makes me more anxious than getting allocated the middle seat…nothing. Experience has taught me that nothing good can come out of being squished between two people in THE SKY. It’s all rather awkward, starting from the age-old debate of “Where exactly am I meant to place my arms if Tweedledee and Tweedledum are monopolising the arm rests” to the “I really want to sleep and now I can’t, ‘cause I will definitely end up trying to nuzzle down on one of these fools.” Lets not forget how sitting in the middle seat encourages people, on both sides, to engage you in meaningless conversation ranging from how Aunt Lydia’s hip replacement went to how Africa has changed their lives *cue eye-roll*.

My perfect seating set-up in a plane, aside from cruising in my very own Lear Jet with a personal masseuse, involves the middle seat being left vacant and me occupying the window seat…and the seats in-front and behind me, being vacant. This has never happened to me, but I live in hope. I have a feeling there will be a higher probability of this occuring once I upgrade from Cattle Class.

Aisle seats only make sense over long-haul flights, all that leg-room is quite necessary, however, for regional flights in sub-Saharan Africa you’d do well to stay well away from the aisle, ‘cause some of those air hostesses’ hips don’t lie. The few times I’ve been seated in that location, my shoulder and head have been taken out by some larger-than-life booties :-)

For your reading pleasure, i have compiled a brief list of my all-time greatest Flying Pet Peeves:

B.O. - Come on man, some daily bodily contact with water and soap isn’t so hard.

Miss Congeniality - So pretty and so damn nice, those air hostesses and stewards get on my last nerve. Yes, I’m hating. I wish I could look so poised 33,000ft in THE SKY.

Crap in-flight entertainment - Nothing to this day can top the screening of a Steven Seagal movie on an Air Zim flight to the East. It was priceless. It felt like I was catching a blockbuster in1993, when in fact it was 2005 *smh*

Almost Doesn’t Count: Never having got the opportunity to sit next to a bonafide hottie irks me to high heaven. I have a theory that I’ve been wanting to put to the test, it involves the theory that being seated up close and personal to eye-candy will alleviate my flying anxieties, hehehe.

Holla your flying peeves in the comments!

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Lent is nearly over and I’m quite relieved about it. I’ve been accused, by many, of being out of the loop with reality and pop-culture due to my spiritual-hiatus away from Bookface and Twitter. I don’t know why they think I would be more clued-up on things like Michael Douglas starring in Wall Street 2 or recent terrorist attacks in Russia? That's not the kind of information you get on social networking sites. FB and Twitter would more than likely inform me of birthdays, break-ups or the bravado of die-hard [Insert English Premier League team name] fans …*sigh*, I’ve missed it all :-)

Random list of things making me smile:

Realising I still know ALL the words to MC Lyte’s rap in, “Keep on, keep, keeping on” and Coolio’s “Gangsta Paradise”

Zebra’s. Don’t ask. I just think they’re gorgeous.

Barack getting his Healthcare Bill passed. The resistant he met with, you’d think the man was making it mandatory for all Americans to consume liquid mercury!

People trying to make sense of Lady Gaga’s “Telephone” video. Quit while you're still ahead.

It being 71 Days till The FIFA World Cup, it’s going to be schweeeeeeeeeeeet.

Julius Malema heading to Zimbabwe to support Zim in its quest for economic independence *DEAD*. This man is a walking comedy, to say the least.

Mad Men: Why didn’t anyone tell me about this show sooner. That Don Draper, mmmmmh, he does things to me.

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Enjoy your four day working week chickens.

Reach out and spread the Love,

V x

The End is Nigh

2010-03-08T21:44:00.000+02:00

In the second week of the third month of the second decade of the (errrrrr) not-so-new millennium, it is with a heavy heart that I must share what is fast becoming obvious.

The world is doomed.

Doomed!

How did my clever self figure this out? No, I did not decipher The Book of Revelations or Nostradamus’s vague scribblings. No siree. The signs where more subtle than that and yet, they were all around us.

I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong again.

Earthquakes didn’t factor into my deductions. True, it was impossible not to notice Haiti, Chile, Taiwan, Sumatra and Turkey succumbing to Mother Earth’s severe indigestion (and that fool meteorologist at CNN wants us to believe that none of those ‘quakes are related, *side eye*) and yet, that wasn’t it either.

Ladies and Gents, believe it or not, the omen of the world’s impending end came from none other than the South African edition of Elle magazine, the March 2010 edition.

Yes, they’re back! I’m so very sorry chickens, sooooooooooooooo sorry!

Crikey Moses! Who let these things come back? Shoulder pads…really, COME ON!!!!! The ‘80’s was one fashion faux pas after another, but shoulder-pads are its crowning monstrosity!

When I think of shoulder-pads the following come to mind (all at once too):

- Janet Jackson performing those geometric perfect moves in her Rhythm Nation video;
- Joan Collin’s character in Dynasty decking it out with her blonde nemesis for the charms of some old rich dude - the higher and sharper the shoulder-pads, the more alpha and dominant is the respective female;
- 80's Top of the Pops playing Tiffany’s. “I think we’re alone now”;
- Thriller ( I swear MJ was sporting shoulder pads under that signature red jacket of his); and
- Vultures - their bony, high raised wings definitely give a shoulder-pad effect.

It’s bad enough they bring back those damned harem pants back, but now this!!!! Do these people have no shame *smh*

New lows have been reached, hence my assumption that it’s a wrap!

Holla in the comments, what you believe has been mankind’s biggest fashion faux pas to date (don’t hold back now)

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Speaking of the world ending:

Wow, the economy may well be in recovery mode but the people are definitely not in a light hearted mood. In the past weeks I’ve found myself immersed in all things apocalyptic ‘cause it seems to be de rigeur to expect the worst:

Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” – If you can get past the fact that this book has NO punctuation whatsoever, is an extremely short read and the reader never really gets the full story of why the earth has come to the state that it’s in, you’ll be impressed by it simplicity and its poignancy. It’s a book about core human values and survival of the fittest. As bloody morbid and gory as it is, I couldn’t put it down. Have any of you watched the movie?

The Book of Eli – The uber-cool Denzel Washington dominates this movie based on, once again, the world after civilisation has literally taken a hit. He’s on a quest to the West and trust me, nothing’s getting in the way. Just like in “The Road” the common themes of scavengers, cannibalism and morality ring clear.

Mmmmmh, the world needs a SERIOUS hug at this rate :-S

Keeping it Light:

I managed to dilute the abysmal feeling of doom caused by the above movie and book choices with the following:

Karyn Stockett’s “The Help”: Based on black maids personal experiences at the hands of their "madams" in then segregated Mississippi during the ‘60’s. it’s the whistleblower of all whistleblowers. The stories are hilarious, sad and heartfelt.

Golf: I’m a natural. Of course I am, never doubted it for a second. How could I not excel at a sport that encourages me to hit an obstacle as hard as I can, and rewards me for it.

Mr Darcy: I finally have my very own copy of BBC’s version of “Pride and Prejudice.” Don’t speak to me of that appalling version with that Keira Knightley person, we shall not speak of it. Instead, I get to drool over Mr D. and root for the underdog *sigh*

George Wilson: He plays American Football (which I don’t understand) and I didn’t know about him this time last week. But thanks to generosity of a fellow blogger *cough* K, this yummy specimen has been plucked out of obscurity. Go over to her blog, if you're wondering what i'm talking about.

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Be kind to yourselves, chickens!

Love,

V x

Make the Circle Bigger!

2010-02-22T11:42:00.000+02:00

Nothing like finding out that your co-workers know about your blog, to give one a temporary case of writer's block. Smashing really. At least that explains all the 'hey vim from zim" greetings in the elevator, lol.

Awww well, the show will definitely go on *big grin*

So last week i got some great news, i found out two things:

1) That i would finally get to see on of my favourite artists, live in concert (brownie points if you figure out who i'm talking about); and

2) I will actually get to see a FIFA World Cup game over June so i can tell my future grand kiddies, "i was there."

After doing a victory dance and declaring my good news to all and sundry it suddenly dawned on me that i need to start revising my bucket list 'cause things are getting ticked off real quick. Before i saw Jigga in concert, that's the only person i REALLY wanted to see...his performance was well worth the wait (thinking about it still gives me goosebumps) but then, it too passed and i had to find another "person i REALLY wanted to see". Come May this year, i will find myself in the same cycle...and quite frankly i am running out of "people i really want to see" here.

Then there is whole maybe-its-better-not-to-fulfil-some-bucket-list-items: e.g. A few weeks back a whole lot of Aussie folk i know where raving about how awesome Lauryn Hill was in a recent Oz concert she supposedly rocked. I found this really hard to believe. You see, Ms Hill was on my bucket list...i saw her in concert..... she sucked serious a*s and i still wish i could un-watch that concert and put her back on the list. Anti-climax doesn't even begin to describe it!

Holla in the comments any bucket-list staples or scenarios you wished you hadn't ticked off

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Day Six: So like the lovely K, i am partaking in the lenten practices as a good catholic girls should. Amongst the many spiritual endeavours i'm hoping to address this lenten period, i ambitiously gave up Bookface and Twitter.

We are definitely in the 21st century when social networking sites rank higher than a bar of chocolate on the list of people's tempations and addictions. But there you have it, it's a sign of the times.

Over the weekend i was quick to profess (loudly even) that i wasn't coping well. I just wanted to "know", when asked, "know what?", i was quick to retort, "anything and everything." That's when it hit me that this Lenten period and social network site hiatus were definitely good things. I've been unconciously dedicating more and more of my time to activities that really don't add value in the long run.

Now don't get me wrong, FB is great for keeping in touch with family and actual friends around the world. Twitter is great for get on-the-ground reports about life-changing incidences. Thing is, if you are camped out on these sites, pre-empting messages and the like, 'tis time to take a deep breath and reconnect with the real world.

I'm all about the need for serious information filters, they definitely help you refocus on the necessary.

Having said that....i'm still going through serious withdrawal symptoms! Anyone feel like clueing me up on what today's Trending Topics are, la la la.

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Happy Monday chickens....one day to get through, four to go!

Love,

V x

The L Word

2010-02-12T13:46:00.000+02:00

So i was going through my previous V-day posts and it was hilarious to see the various frames of mind i was in by the time the day rocked up. Post-break up phase i was all about F**k Valentines, Mid-Honeymood Phase i was all about "This day rocks" and when i was content in my singleness it was all about reaching out and embracing all aspects of love out there in the universe.

This year i'm still into the day, i acknowledge that it is indeed a commercial rip-off but I'm still drawn to its cutesy and corniness -gosh darnit, i'm a sucker for the celebration of love.

At the same time, having walked this earth for ....a while now, i can appreciate that the true sentiment behind love has got lost somewhere along the way. Now we could go around in circles debating "What is Love", and come up with a whole load of weird theories: I remember the book "Love Story" stated that "Love was not having to say you're sorry"...which i believe is a whole lot of crocksh*t in my opinion, and of course Ms Gaga seems to equate Love and Revenge on the same level, which is disturbing. Oh and let's not forget the wife/husband-beater who claims that his/her acts of violence are actually demonstrations of love.

*smh*

Somewhere along the line, the whole idea and concept of love got really messed up and complicated!

My favourite concept of love comes from the Big Book. Its focus is not on sexual or romantic love, instead it applies to the big picture. You see, we get so caught up in romantic love that we forget that love is a whole lot bigger than that...way bigger.

So if you're crying in a bucket 'cause you don't think you'll be getting decomposing vegetation (roses) from a fickle member of the opposite sex, may i remind you of what real love is so that you go forth and share it with the rest of humanity:

1 Corinthians 4 - 5

"Love is patient,

love is kind.

It does not envy,

it does not boast,

it is not proud.

It is not rude,

it is not self-seeking,

it is not easily angered,

it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects,

always trusts,

always hopes,

always perseveres"

Now ain't that a whole lotta love.

I don't know about you, but i'm coming up REAL short on some of those Love requirements, lol. Here's to a work in progress.

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Have an awesome weekend chickens!

Be kind to eachother and spread the love...yes, even John Mayer deserves some to, hehehe.

Love,

V x

The Pussy & The President

2010-02-04T09:41:00.000+02:00

It's a tale as old as time...high ranking politician sets out to save the world and achieve world peace but never quite gets around to it as he gets derailed by miscellaneous poen.

The philandering president is a running cliche that it doesn't even raise eyebrows no more. Bill Clinton, JFK, Nicholas Sarkozy, Robert Mugabe....the list goes on.

Now if you're doing a great job of running a country, manage to talk marginalised countries from nuking eachother and mass producing nuclear missiles and still provide free health care and education to the masses, gosh darn it, i don't really have a problem whether you rodger the odd miscellaneous poen now and again.

What gets my knickers in a knot is when the same high profile individual gets all flustered as to why his personal business is being aired on all news channels. Errr, you hold a public office, so what you do in private and in public is bound to get aired publically.

Now the similarities with most presidential philanderers is that at the time of indulging in said-random poen they had one wife, emphasis on the ONE.

Jacob Zuma has three official wives, has been "officially" married five times and has many an "official" fiancee and girlfriends....and yet, after all that, he still manages to solicate and knock up random poen????

Where he finds the time, hameno (i don't know) but between him and Tiger Woods, one of these fools must write a best-seller on the powers of multi-tasking.

I thought the whole point of polygamous marriages was to decrease the likihood of men straying from the marriage bed (oh and to go forth and multiply...literally). I'm not going to condone multiple marriages, that will have to be a separate post to air my view, but come on, the very least JZ could do is channel his energies to satisfying his current line-up of wives and running the country.

His actions detract from his "good" works> His legacy will be that of a running joke at this rate! To make it worse, the taxpayers are incurring the tab for these philanderings so he can't go around saying it ain't the people's business, *smh*.

Then again, this is the same man whose picture was splashed on the back page of the South African Sunday Times a few months back. It illustrated his inablilty to say no to women by his rather energetic lip-lock with a random woman street vendor at least 10 years who'd requested a little "sugar" from the president. Never one to leave a woman wanting he sorted her out....

I feel sorry for JZ once The 2010 FIFA World Cup is over 'cause if he feels like he's under the glare and microscope of the media now, he has no idea what's waiting for him come August 2010.

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Random ramblings:

F**k Your Colouring Book: Our boy Kanye has made rant history with his heartfelt tirade targeted towards bloggers hating on him and Ms Rose getting their fur on. Here's a sneak preview of his lambasting, lol:

IF WE DON’T DO WHAT YOU FEEL IS THE SHIT,
YOU BEAT US UP VERBALLY AND MENTALLY,
LIKE A CATHOLIC SCHOOL TEACHER BEATING A CREATIVE STUDENT INTO SUBMISSION.
I CAN HEAR YOU SCREAMING ‘COLOR INSIDE THE LINES!!!’
WELL F*CK YOUR COLORING BOOK,
COLOR BY NUMBERS APPROACH TO LIFE!

You tell then Ye!

Fellas, i need your help: What the heck do y'all want for V-day?

Yes, yes, aside from the object of your interest/lust draped in nothing but a red ribbon challenging you to a PS3 game and holding your favourite lager....what else would you like?

It's not a leap year but i believe the ladies are being quite generous this year *wink*

Gym Update: Ooooooh i managed to colour-code my pink yoga mat with my gym shirt the other day, that's a plus right? My inner ear balance is improving too, i don't wobble so much. All in all, i'm quite impressed with my gym routine and eating habits of late, i feel darn skippy.

Seriously though: Not be a party-pooper but SO much money has been raised for Haiti, who's auditing those sums to ensure they get to the right people...and where exactly is ALL that money going to and how is it going to be accounted for? If in two years, Haiti is still in a ramshackle state after all that cash and skills were poured in, i will be mad ticked...i'm just saying!

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It's Thursday and i feel like the week's only starting, it's been crazy! Have a great Phuza Thursday wherever you are chickens.

Love,

V x

Bend me, Shape me....

2010-01-29T11:48:00.000+02:00

I've been getting into a lot of trouble these days...not picking up calls or answering smses after 8pm, going AWOL mid-BBM chats. Now i could blame all this rather suspicious on taking up with a Latino lover who bears a striking resemblence to Adrian Grenier and answers to "Raul" but yah, it's not that exciting...

I joined the gym.

Now if you've followed my blog for a bit or know me personally, you'll know that if there's anyone who's ever given bad press about gymnasiums' and their ilk, it has been me. Having had a bad run in with one of Richard Branson's instituitions a few years back left a very sour taste in my mouth. I wanted nothing to do with such places. I ridiculed friends, family and colleagues who signed-up with them...i made a point of voicing (quite loudly too) to anyone who'd listen how i kept fit with having to join a cult.

The truth is, i've never been one for exercise of any kind and it's worked well for me. Mama and Papa blessed me some fantastic genes, such that i've spent an odd 20 plus years on this earth looking like i wake up and run 30km in the morning without doing a damn thing.

However, reality sunk in after a mild health scare during the hols and a few trips to fitting rooms across Joburg hit home that a bit of maintenance is needed. Something a little more structured than my odd Carmen Electra "Striptease" aerobic DVD workout.

With my foot firmly lodged down my throat, i paid the gym a visit and signed up. It's been about two weeks so far and i feel good about my choice.

Let me share a few things i've observed and discovered during my trips to the gym:

1. If i ever need to get a really good boob job i'd ask the chicks who bob about in the front row of my intense aerobics class who hooked them up with theirs. Never have i seen boobs so firm...so taut...so unshakeable. They don't move. Now a quick squiz around the class confirmed my original thinking, that boobs are meant to wriggle around when one is jumping, no matter the strength of your gym-bra.

2. People put a great deal of thought into what they wear to the gym. Matching tops, matching pants, matching trainers. Heaven forbid should you mix Brand names, tsk tsk, everyone knows that when it comes to Nike and Reebok, never the twain should meet.

3. Vying for a tie with the sterotypical car salesman is the gym consultant. Never have i had to haggle for a reasonably priced gym subscription like i did when i was signing up. Gym subscriptions are right up there with hotel room rates and airline tickets...there's never one price. You then have to call their bluff, threaten to go to the competition and call up a friend (in front of them) to confirm what they're paying in comparison to what the sleezy gym consultant is offering.

All that bargaining is a workout in itself.

4. 85% of people who attend the gym don't look like they should be there. They're super skinny and working so diligently (bless their cotton socks) and all i want to do is go up to them and say, "It's okay, you look great...you can take it down a notch now."

5. This may be a very South African specific situation but i've noticed that the classes taken by black trainers are mostly made up of black gym goers, and vice versa for classes taken by white trainers. *smh*

6. Some ladies work out in the gym complete with a full face of make-up. Now the least they could do is ensure their mascara is waterproof to avoid that Salvador Dali "Melted Clocks" effect.

7. For the unattached and willing to mingle, the gym is prime hunting ground. The pheromones in the air mingled with all that puffed out chest prancing from the fellas and suggestive front bends and squats from the ladies is bound to end up in liaisons of a sweaty kind.

8. Never underestimate the frail looking old man next to you in yoga, he's definitely more flexible than you and can execute a perfect downward dog position and back-bend. True story.

9. All those sweat inducing workouts reek havoc with black hair. I'm walking around with a frizzball similar to that sported by Big Bird in Sesame Street. Any suggestions on what i can do ladies (short of going bald).

10. Endorphins feel good...real good.

Holla your thoughts in the comments chickens

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Random Thoughts:

Haters, & I made myself so easy to love *jay-z voice*: The UK and Germany need to slow their row with the bad press they keep giving South Africa 130 days before the World Cup. There is awareness...and then there is scaring the bejesus out of people. Yes, SA has its fair share of crime and the lot, but if you stay vigilant and don't do that stupid naive touristy stuff of wandering into dark alley's then you'll be aight.

If the world wasn't such a Media-whore:

a) Tiger and Elin would have probably reconciled a whole lot faster. But now he's made a fool of himself on a global scale and humilated his wife in the process. Instead of only her closest friends and family asking "Whatchu gonna do girl?", the whole world is doing the same. Pressure.

b) Those Kardashian's would be working a 9 to 5 in a fast food outlet somewhere.

c) The world would be fixated on more important things like World Hunger, Poverty and Climate Change. Not, which wife is Jacob Zuma on.

Birdies & Eagles & other Feathery Pursuits: I've taken up golf...again. In my previous life i had a golf instructor who was a tyrant at best. His lessons would last 3 - 4 hrs at a time, i would leave with blisters on my fingers. He wasn't so nice, effective in a way...but not so nice.

I managed to score myself free golf lessons with a pro and the game is actually more enjoyable this time around.

I'm tempted to make a Tiger Woods joke right about now, but i don't think it would be appropriate....hehehehehe.

Special shoutout: It's my mummy's birthday today. I love the is woman. We've had our ups and downs as all mother-daughter relationships have had, but i know when i'm low she'll console me and when i'm excited she'll cheer me on. There is no more self-less person i know. She's my greatest example and if i'm half the person she's been and is, in this lifetime, i'll be alright.

Happy birthday Mum!

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Happy weekend chickens!

Celebrate Life and be the change you want to see.

Love,

V x

Gone Too Soon

2010-01-26T10:20:00.000+02:00

It's been a rough 24 hours...

It's not easy to make sense of that which appears senseless.

This year is so sad...Haiti...more earthquakes....Ethiopian Airlines...and now this.

I keep rehashing past conversations, i keep thinking about the last time i saw him...New Years Eve. I was in the club, he was outside. We were lip-reading through the glass windows, he said he was coming in and i said i'd speak to him when he did.

I never saw him again.

In the last days, he was active on facebook...in retrospect, maybe a bit too active. It was only last week him and i were having a philosophical debate relating on to one of obversations on life. I re-read the back-and-forth, looking for a sign...a hint.

I wasn't his closest friend, not by a long shot, he was beloved by many. But a friend i did consider him. I knew he'd been through a lot over the years but never did i think it would come to this.

In this instant, there is not beauty in hindsight. Instead there are questions, the re-living of every last moment...last conversation...last expression to find a clue, any clue.

I hate Facebook today.
I hate its efficiency at delivering the saddest news.
I hate that you had updated your profile, as though you had planned it all along...had you?
I hate that we have so many questions, and no answers.
I hate that it wasn't a mistake, that it was all true, you were gone.
I hate that you were so sad, so tormented, so desperate that you resorted to this.
I hate that nobody could help in time.

Your parents have lost a son
Your siblings have lost a brother
Your son has lost a father
Your partner has lost a lover

And we, who loved you too.
We have lost a friend.

Sleep easy Thulani

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"How To Save A Life"

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And I pray to God he hears you
And I pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And would I have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

How to save a life

No theme here, just loads of rambling

2010-01-18T12:54:00.000+02:00

Bruises, dark ones are featuring on my right leg and i have no memory of how i got them.

Now the swollen red skin on my right chin that hurts like a joke, that i remember gettting. Saturday evening was fun, a little too much fun. So much fun in fact that i unknowingly walked into a mini stage with a dancing pole on it, stationed smackdab in the middle of the dancefloor.

Nooooo, i hadn't drunk that much, okay maybe i did, but the reason i didn't see the damn stage was cause someone in the club was having loads and loads of fun with the smoke-making machine and nobody could see anything anyway.

This all doesn't explain the bruises though...hope i wasn't sleep walking again, mmmh.

How are you doing chickens?

This is going to be one of those long rambling posts, so bear with me as i spew forth a whole lot of something that's mostly nothing:

News Ban: I'm staying far away from CNN, Sky, BBC and newspapers. Tearing up by one's desk by 8:15am is just not the way to start the day. I just can't make emotional sense of all the strewn dead bodies on the streets of Haiti, it's unthinkable...it's heartwrenching...it's inhumane! I feel like one of those people who slows down to check out a car accident and then gets upset when they see something they didnt want to see in the first place!

So a news diet is definitely in order.

Getting Old Much? There were awards on last night? Golden Globe awards so hear? Julia Roberts supposedly made history by delivering the longest acceptance speech in the history of awards? Errr, so i missed all that AND am okay with that.

How far we have come, i guess this is what they call growing up. Well, i kinda like it.

Hypothetical Arguments about Hypothetical Scenarios: Have you ever watched a movie with Brendan Fraser called, "Twilight of The Golds"? No, well let me give you a brief synopsis. The whole premise of the movie is that Brendan Fraser's character is an openly gay man who's very close to his pregnant sister who in turn is married to a man who has just discovered the gene that causes homosexuality.

Still with me?

Anywho, the Doctor dude decides to test his unborn child for the gene and guess what, the soon-to-be kid tests positive for the gene and that's when things get interesting. The Doctor is pressuring his wife to abort, the wife's brother (Brendan) is severly hurt that she would consider going through with it 'cause in some twisted way it means she's saying he should never have lived. It's pure drama.

So where am i going with this? Well, i posed the question forth to some heterosexual males, "What would you do if your only son or daughter turned out to be gay?"

Eh, African males are the most homophobic bunch i have EVER met! All of sudden there was talk of disowning children, disinheritance and people getting exiled. *DEAD*

Even worse, why did i proceed to burst into tears on hearing this (those damn hormones), i mean, this is your child. Yes, you may not approve of their lifestyle but come on, disowning he-re???!

I would like to hear your thoughts on the topic, holla away in the comments.

Speaking of Comments: I've had to put on the Comment Moderation setting because i got tired of deleting the dubious spam comments unrelated to any of the posts i've written. I'm quite ticked off that it's come to this, as it disrupts the flow of banter back and forth, but it has to be done.

Real-time Television - It's the Future: You heard it here first, i hereby decree that in future all popular television shows (e.g. Grey's Anatomy, Dexter, GG, True Blood) will be shown at the same time all over the world, thus curbing the need for people to illegally download their favourite episodes as they aren't prepared to wait a whole year for their local networks/broadcasters to negotiate and get that season. That way, people who love to upload spoiler FB statuses like, "Oh wow, can't believe they finally killed X and that Y and Z are hooking up" won't ruin our fun.

Valentines: Have y'all started your campaigning for "anonymous" admirers to send you "surprise" bouquets of some common flora? Ladies, this year lets hook up the Gents! A little role reversal never hurt nobody *dirty wink*

Drop it like its hot: Alicia Keys is a crafty one that one, hooking up with Swizz Beatz and all. Lets not lie here, the beat is what makes a song. Now this is rich, coming from me, the most lyrically orientated person ever, but even a heavy beat can save a lyrically-weak song...and one of my favourite songs at the moment fits that description to a "T".

Play Fiddy's "Baby By Me'" and for three minutes, it's over! That track does t'ings to me. There are a lot of songs that have that effect on me, but i wanna hear what track currently get's your pulse racing like [enter the name of current perve interest] just walked into the room.

Holla back!

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Okay i'm done rambling...for now anyway. Let me go and find something to chow for lunch.

Have an awesome start of the week chickens!

Love,

V x

Even the darkest day...

2010-01-14T21:42:00.000+02:00

If you’re like me then you’ve probably done your head in wondering that if everything happens for a purpose, like we’re told it is, then what’s the purpose of natural disasters like the earthquake that struck Haiti and has left so many dead, injured and homeless.

Cyclones

Hurricanes

Volcanoes

Landslides

Avalanches

*smh* I don’t know man, its just too much for my human mind to take in and resolve.

But my heart, now my heart asks me to look beyond the sorrow, grief and ugliness…it tells me to look into the darkness to see what it sees and hear what it hears.

And that's when...

I see my Twitter timeline chocker-block full of people’s prayers, aid requests and information as to how help.

I see normal people doing great things.

I hear of those with a lot…be it money, influence, compassion or practical skills giving of themselves selflessly to assist.

I see the world acting like a village and rushing to aid their own.

I hear the heavens ricocheting with the collective prayers of the world.

That’s when I know….

Even the darkest day must give way to the brightest lights.

Pay a visit to a link my girl Kookie suggested that provides details as to how you and I can make a difference.

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Keep safe and blessed chickens…wherever you are.

Love,

V x

A Monday-Back-To-Work-Argh-Crap State of Mind

2010-01-11T10:36:00.000+02:00

Nothing like the first day back at work, after a good three weeks off. to derail you from every good intention and resolution you may have come up with.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is so weak.

That said, i refuse for the first day...week...heck the whole year to derail me from my plans. I just need to get through the next few hours and i'll be dandy :-)

Things on my mind (in no order of priority):

Fiddy Has A Point: I'm scared to check my banking details online...real scared. I know what i'll see and the thought of that alone is enough to have me agreeing with Fiddy's philosophy, "Have a baby by me baby, be a millionaire." The first few months of this year are going to be spent cleaning up the damage committed in the last few weeks of last year. Bad Vim, bad!

Compliments...really: I really hate the expression, "Compliments for the New Year". What compliments? Whose Compliments? I've heard that greeting no less than five times this morning alone. It makes the hairs on my neck stand up, don't ask. Oh and when can we stop wishing people a Happy New Year...this year is already getting long in the tooth, am just saying.

Biting the Bullet: It has to be done...it must be done...and yet i can't bring myself to join the damn gym. I don't particular care that i've put on the seasonal 3 kg's compliments of mama's cooking and the random food bingeing that occurs during the festive period. Nope, what really got me was the lecture from the well meaning ER doctor explaining to me that my lungs really need exercise or he'll be seeing more of me...phooey.

WTF: The Togo soccer team got shot at...the Sri-Lankin cricket team got shot at...why are people making political statements by shooting at sports teams? Sports is meant to be the great equaliser (right up there with alcohol and inflation). Tis a sad, sad day indeed.

Biltong: Mmmmmmmmh. 'Nuff said.

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I was home in H-town over the December hols and came up with a few rules, so to speak, for diasporans to maximise on joy and good times in the Sunshine City:

There's always a mission: Remember this rule, memorise it, 'cause you'll definitely need to call on it when you find yourself twiddling your thumbs and looking for some fun times. Not that fun and missions are scarce, no siree, its just that you need to make a bit more of an effort to find them. Only the brave and tenacious are rewarded in such instances - Asipo, haapo!
Don't take yourself too seriously: Natives of my land have been known to get caught up in the whole "scene", what scene you may ask? Good question, 'cause i have no idea who we are meant to be keeping up appearances too. Now if you let go just a little bit and are open to a bit of fun that may border on the ridiculous (impromptu dance competitions and the like) you may actually find yourself have a bit of a giggle and, dare i say it, some fun.
Be flexible: When diasporans venture home, they all want to recapture the nostalgia of yesteryear. If you are one of these people, you're going to be in for a bit of a rude shock. We are the nation that is attributed with having had a currency that changed on a weekly basis, flexibity is our middle name. Now if the good waitress at The Italian Bakery tells you they aren't serving Malawi Shady, no sweat, if you smile sweetly...or plead, she'll make you something similar that's pretty damn good anyway.
Some things never
change: Okay, yes things tend to be in a state of constant flux but you'll be surprised at somethings that never seem to change. e.g. Keg barmaids (buxom they may not be but constant they are) and Bob's motorcade passing The Keg on Borrowdale Road at 7:05pm every day without fail - m'dara is working late these days.
You learn a new thing everyday: I had never heard of a USD$2 , or seen one till this holiday. They're supposedly legit, but there you have it, who'd have thunk.

There you have it folks, gems from my travels up North.

Feel free to share any holiday gems or mantras you discovered over your hols. Holla in the comments!

Have an awesome Monday chickens, we've only got another 40-odd left in the year, lol.

Love,

V x

2010: 94 hours in and it's looking good

2010-01-04T21:48:00.000+02:00

Ola chickens!

Welcome to the most anticipated year this decade (mmmh, for some reason that line reads in a very redundant way, lol)

If this year could be personified it would be like a Williams sister in the Wimbledon semi-finals, Tiger at the Masters, Usain at the Olympics, Lewis at some major Grand Prix…this year has a lot to prove and I kinda feel sorry for it.

On this side of the hemisphere we are all living and breathing the FIFA 2010 World Cup fever like you can’t believe. I’m excited, the worlds excited…it’s just darn exciting…but, I can’t help but feel that this event is being treated like a wedding of sorts.

Everyone is so fixated with the big day (in this particular analogy, the big month) that I’m actually quite scared of the post-event withdrawal symptoms we’re all going to be feeling once it’s all over. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, until then, bring on the hype!

What about them new year resolutions?

What about them indeed. I spent the whole holiday scribbling up an impossible to do list about what I need to do, change and address and just the thought of it makes me want to take a fistful of Valium*

Doing too much is as about as constructive as doing nothing at all, why start the year with setting yourself for failure? Instead that neatly drafted new years resolution list i compiled over the hols was then transformed into a more manageable “to-do” list, rather than a lofty wishlist that not even Oprah herself could complete.

My main theme for 2010…to “Be Still”.

This big ole world expects a lot from us, as we do from ourselves, and we get so wrapped up in doing more…being more…getting more, we don’t stop to ask ourselves, “What’s the point?” If you can’t remember why you do something anymore, then there’s nothing like being silent and figuring out the “why” and fixating less on the “how”. “when” and “where” of it.

Yes, i know i've gone all Zen on your asses, but its necessary. As Ye would sympathise in song, "You worry bout the wrong things, the wrong thingsssss."

This poem sums up my 2010 mantra:

Voices

Voices in my head,
Chanting, “Kisses. Bread.
Prove yourself. Fight. Shove.
Learn. Earn. Look for love.”

Drown a lesser voice,
Silent now of choice:
“Breath in peace, and be
Still, for once, like me.”

Vikram Seth

*Note: Laying off the “dramatics” and “hyperboles” also featured on that new years resolution list, go figure, lol).

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I’m enjoying the last week of my holiday before heading feet first into the corporate jungle. I’ve got lots of posts brewing in my head inspired by my travels and the people around me over the last two weeks. In the meantime, I’m gonna play some catch up and see what y’all been blogging about!

It’s good to be back…i missed you guys *sniff*

Love,

V x

All Black Everything & 2009 Recap...

2009-12-14T09:46:00.001+02:00

Neyo declared 2008 the Year of the Gentleman, although the stats are still out as to whether that year lived up to its name.

I was trying to figure out what the mainstream theme for this year would be?

So we had the whole recession business in full swing, which was challenging at best. It got me thinking that the better part of the year was spent in a state of mourning so to speak...and well, this topic has been exhausted and done to death. So i went in search of another theme...and the one that sprung into mind was Black Men.

No one year has been dominated by the actions and antics of black men like this since the respective years that involved OJ and MJ's trial. Think about it:

The Good - January 2009: Obama gets into office. That was and still is a pretty big deal. A man of colour is the leader of the free world. A black first family inhabiting The White House and proving that The Cosby Show was merely a precursor of all the good things to come. Yes, Obama will have his critics who will claim he aint done sh*t and is just a talker blah-blah, but it all comes with the territory. Barack, keep keeping on!
The Bad - June 2009: Wow, i'm still reeling from the shock.The King of Pop is dead and the world is a sadder place 'cause of it. Yes, MJ wasn't without his eccentries and errrr dubious behaviour, but it was his music and passion that we will remember him most for. Sleep easy big guy.
The Eish - December 2009: Black man down, black man down. Now we know nobody's infallible but Tigere Musango (Tiger Woods to the rest of you) sure did wind up on many a person's pedestal, mine included, and sadly the truth is out...he's just as fallible as the rest of us. Granted, he took whoring a whole new level and didn't include a sista of colour in the mix, but hey, to each his own...right.

The moral of the story....too much money will make you lose your damn mind each and every time!

Holla in the comments what you think the biggest recurring theme was for 2009?
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As a fond writer of lists, i would like to share with you some of my favourite things from over the past year. I know i've probably missed out some monumental things and people, but bear with me...it's my last day at work and my mind is so not here.

So here they are, in no particular order or ranking:

Twitter: What do you do when you can't sleep and it's an indecent time of the hour to be calling the people you love? Go on twitter of course! I love Twitter, i love it so much that i've forsaken Facebook in favour of twitterville. It's voyeurism with limits...it's wit in 140 characters...it's sublime. It's kept me amused for the better part of the year and i would be a sadder person without it. If you aren't on it...what are you waiting for?

Follow me @VimfromZim

The Twilight Series: Not since the adventures of Harry Pot-head and gang has a book series sent me into a state of reclusion. I was a true sceptic when my sister recommended i give Twilight a read. She lost me when her opening description was, "It's a lovestory involving a vampire and a girl....". Luckily, i was very bored one day and decided to give it a go. Suffice to say that within 2 weeks i'd cruised through all 4 books and was a believer.

Most hilarious summary i've read about Twilight: "It can best be summed up as a tale about a girl who can't decide whether she's into necrophilia or bestiality."

John Mayer: If you don't know how into JM i am by now, then you clearly haven't been reading this blog that long. How has JM influenced my life in 2009 you ask? Well, his hilarious tweets on Twitter make my day and his music gets me through the most hellish weeks with a smile. I would say more, but i have a feeling that Shona is rolling her eyes as she reads this, hehehe.

Blueprint 3: Arguably one of the best albums dropped this year by my main man Shawn. This album is so witty...so conceited...so brilliant...so entertaining...so everything. My favourite track off of it is "Already Home", for a man who can boast one of the most solid careers and empire in entertainment, this song is his "piece de resistance":
"so in summation I don't know who you racing
I'm already at the finish line with the flag waving"

Blogville: There was a time, not so long ago, when i would blog and know that i was probably the only person (aside from well-meaning siblings) who actually read what i wrote, lol. Those were interesting days indeed, nothing like talking to yourself. This year i've felt the strongest feeling of community within blogville from all you regular readers and commentors. Your blogs and comments make my day and add to my world in a way that i wouldn't have believed possible when i started this gig!

Big Thank You chickens *big kiss*

Challenging Situations: Yeezy sung it best when he declared, "That that doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger." Yes siree, there have been moments...months even, when it was hard to find the joy and delight in life. The first few months of this year were gruelling and uncomfortable. I never want to go back to that place again. The greatest thing to take away from such situations is, as Maya Angelou famously proclaimed, "And still i stand".

A-ha Moments: Following from "challenging situations", the dawn does return and in its wake showers us in self-affirming realisations. We realise what our priorities are meant to be, where our passions lie and our life paths.

Nigerian Music: So i need to brush up on my non-existant Yoruba to understand all the slang and phrases thrown out once in a while, but where would i be without my Naija beats...more specifially where would i be without Wande Coal and M.I. (Mr Incredible) to get me through jozi traffic in the morning? Nowhere, that's where!

If you don't know what or who i am talking about...well, you better ask somebody!

Blackberry: My beloved Samsung x820, formerly known as "Ella" died on me multiple times over the year. We had so much history i found it impossible to let go. I even resorted to taping her up in sellotape (much to dismay of friends and colleagues) to preserve her. However, the time did come to send her to Cellphone Heaven and replace my beloved Ella. Her replacement came in the form of my swanky Blackberry. How do i love my BB? Let me count the ways. My BB still remains without a name...but i figure i will have one within the new year...a strong masculine name, any suggestions?

Talons: For years i wished i could sport the manicured talons that most of my friends and family have. However, with my penchant to gnaw at mine, that dream was a thing of the past...except, that it wasn't. Who knows where i got the willpower from, but one day i decide to stop gnawing and not give into my "nervous conditions". Two months later i am the proud owner of gel-overlayed talons. For a habitual nail biter for the last 20 odd years, i am so proud to have kicked this habit and have pretty hands, yay!

V is for.....: Ummmm yah, nuff said.

Parkhurst: If you are in the greater Gauteng area, Johannesburg to be exact, make your way to 4th Avenue in Parkhurst for ambiance and sumptious food. I love this neighbourhood, its my sliver of Cape Town in Jozi....mmmmmh, sundowners anyone?

Taylor Swift: In competition with Jigga's "Blueprint 3" album is...*big gulp* Taylor Swift's "Fearless" album. There i said it! It's good, real good! There are those that argue that Yeezy dragged Ms Swift from obscruity at that infamous VMA or was it AMA award ceremony, but this chick was already on my radar. She's made me like country music...that's a big thing.

French Knickers: Love them, happy that i traded my thongs in for them. It's the little things in life :-)

Mr Price: R50 sandals! You had me at KA-CHING! Nuff said.

Love. Love, Love : Now where would be without a little love in our lives from the most unlikely sources. "I believe in a thing called love, just listen to the rhythm of my heart." Can i get an Amen?

Please holla your favourite things and/or people from 2009 in the comments ... come on, i know you want to *big wink*

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What's the word chickens? 3 days till i'm homeward bound into Bob's country, i can't wait! Festivities are underway and i'm literally counting down the days and hours till i'm on holiday.

It's not likely i will submit another post by the year's end, so i'm gonna wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! If Christmas ain't your thing, then Happy Holidays to you!

Let us remember the lessons learnt over the past year and the happiness shared.

Catch you on the other side chickens!

Lotsa love and hugs,

V x

Can't Buy Me Love....

2009-11-30T11:34:00.000+02:00

Back at varsity, date auctions where the name of the day. For a solid R300 you could buy the man or woman of your dreams. I particularly loved the original promoting that went on prior to the auctions, one very unforgettable poster proclaimed,

"Money can't buy you love
But who said anything about love?"

This past Saturday i found myself privy to yet another auction in the name of a good cause. The women were out and about in full-force, dressed to kill and having no shy in sizing up the candidates on display.

What was i doing there? Christmas shopping but of course!

I dragged along one of girl friends under the pretence of attending a fashion show (that was a half lie, 'cause there was indeed a fashion show) and on arrival, proclaiming my generosity by sponsoring to buy her the man of her choice. After a quick sussing out session, she was pleading with me NOT to buy her anyone. Boo! Now i must find her another christmas gift.

The men weren't so bad... yes, there was the one guy who looked like he'd crawled out of bed five seconds prior to getting up on the stand. Then there was the uber arrogant one who was male-catalogue-gorgeous but just a teeny bit too full of it...the woman who bidded for him started the bidding so high (R500) and then continued to out-bid herself??!! Weakening.

What did this event teach me?

For the right price, we can all find what we we're looking for...and money provides you with a wider variety of choice *cue Gwen Guthrie's "No Romance without Finance*

Chicken is more my thing but i decided to give Turkey her day. Living up to the hype that American television had built in me, i had my first Thanksgiving lunch. It was one of those meals that i have mentally bookmarked 'cause it was just that good...cranberry sauce, turkey, sweet potate pie, lots of wine and great company.

Controversy aside, those pilgrims sure had the right idea!

Watched it last night.

My thoughts: HOT DAMN, that Jacob is HAWT. No wonder cougars far and wide are swooning over this 17 year old. Those abs, those pecs, it's not right, it just isn't.

Kristin Stewart's acting skills have improved, she's doing that blinking thing less. Rob Pattison is such a boring Edward, if you took a shot of tequila for every time he looked forlorn and broody, ah, you would be crunk 10 minutes into the flick.

New Moon is the most uneventful of the four books but the producer redeemed himself...especially if he's who i have to thank for the no-shirt clause that the main male leads had to obviously agree to in their contracts.

New Moon is a Shirt Free Zone :-)

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Drink lots of coffee and power through what's left of your Monday chickens.

Let's do this (read: Sleep, more sleep).

Love,

V x

The Towel, she's been thrown!

2009-11-25T15:07:00.000+02:00

There may still be *quick mental count* 36 days left to the year but i've officially checked out.

What a year, what a year! Rumour has it the recession is over in South Africa as of today...that's pretty impressive considering the States had declared the end of their recession about two weeks ago. I assumed that like everything else, we'd only feel the repurcussions of a non-recession lifestyle around August of 2010 :-)

So after what has been a pretty long and gruelling year and in the spirit of Thanksgiving, it seems only fitting that we give thanks for all the stuff that didn't go wrong. So i know i've given thanks to the usual suspects (God, family and friends) over the last few months, so instead, i would like to give thanks to the unsung heroes.

Here's my "thankful" list, in no particular order of priority:

The 9 to 5 grind: Yes i complain about my job and on some days i believe that my time spent at work is actually my personal purgatory but that doesn't mean i don't have the sense to acknowledge that at a time when people were being retrenched left, right and centre, i still got to keep my job and battle it out with the best of them.

Malva Toffee Pudding with Custard: Having a bad day, need some not-good-for-you food to make you feel full and happy? This is your answer! Forget Nelson Mandela, this pudding is South Africa's national treasure.

Palmolive's Milk & Honey Body Wash: Want to feel like Cleopatra after a long gruelling day at the office? Jump into the shower and lather up with Palmolive's finest. You'll never look at your showering experience the same again!

Prayer: A little bit goes a looooooooooooooooooooooong way! Whatever your woes, the Big Man in the Sky 's emergency hotline is open 24hrs a day...better yet, just holla at him for a chat.

Cuddles: When all those big hot-shots where losing their empires on Wall Street and those big corporations where brought to their knees, i betcha they were all starving for a hug and a cuddle. Granted, that alone wouldn't have got them out of the pickle they found themselves in, but gee whiz, they'd havfe appreciated that small, heartfelt gesture.

Heat Magazine (or your tabloid of choice): Don't judge. This frivilous fluff comes in handy when you need to disengage from the madness.

International Calls: With loved ones scattered around the globe, there's nothing like receiving an international call when you least suspect it. Even if people don't seem to know their time zones from their Cantonese *ahem* these calls are always greatly appreciated and make my day.

Twitter: Want to be amused at 3am in the morning when you can't catch some shut-eye 'cause the dog next door is barking too loud or you drank too much cheap coffee...get on Twitter, its 24hrs, all day, every day. Entertainment guaranteed.

Summer: Yes, everyone looks good in Winter, all buttoned up and distinguished but Summer is the reigning beauty queen here. Need an instant pick-me up (and a tan) park yourself in a sunny spot and bask in the rays kisses (note: Slather on a sunblock of at least SPF15 before doing so, you'll thank me later).

Malawi Shandy's: I'm not sure what goes into this drink, but its yummy and reminds me Saturday afternoons , sitting out on the patio of the Italian Bakery (IB) in Harare watching people pose, hehehe.

Okay, that's my random thankful list. Share yours in the comments, holla!

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This my early christmas present to myself, JM's latest offering.

Listening to a new album is like breaking in new shoes, they may look good but they don't really fit well and kinda pinch but if you keep wearing them, after a while they become old faithfuls. I foresee this album becoming an old faithful but for now we're in the teething stages.

If you're about to break up with someone, in the process of breaking up with someone or just mourning love lost or love yet to be found, buy it....it ain't called "Battle Studies" for nothing.

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Random things floating in my head:

1. Doing a cost-benefit analysis of applying for a MBA program for 2010/2011? Have any of you done an MBA or planning on doing an MBA? What would you consider the best benefits of going through with it?

2. The new-ish 90210 series. Caught a few episodes last night and am of the opinion that some things should be laid to rest...for good.

3. Hiding places: My mother is visiting from Zim in a few days and has a penchant for going through my things. My days of shocking the poor woman are behind me so some unmentionables are going to be needing a new home for a week or two.

4. 2010 Goals: Need to start plotting what i want to achieve in the year coming through, as well as do an audit of the last few months.

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Chin-up chickens, we're nearly there! The silly season is upon us, might as well make the most of it!

Love,

V x

Channelling Patra!

2009-11-19T20:01:00.000+02:00

Ooooh, it’s been a minute!

Okay, so where did I leave off? Oh yes, the office xmas party. Eish, it was as dry as the Namib desert during a global drought with zero chance of precipitation forecast. Yes, that dry. Bless them, they did try but I guess given the obvious downgrade of venue, menu and general entertainment it was fairly obvious that 2009 had been a trying working year and people are glad to be seeing the back of it. I guess I should be grateful that we even got an office party.

Event high-points: The lethal strawberry daiquiri’s being served and winning an office prize for being, ummmm, very tenacious about something I would rather not get into, hehehe.

Event low-points: Not having anywhere to dance or move, we were confined to our chairs for the whole thing. The blatant boss a*s-kissing was so OTT. It was about as obvious as Enrique Iglesius’s mole (pre-laser surgery).

Speaking of Bosses

So Saturday night my girl had a Dance-hall themed extravaganza at her place. My girls and I , being extreme theme-party-wh*res, were dressed in full regalia!

I’m talking short shorts, tight leggings and tops, lots of gold bling, scaffolding for shoes and bright make-up. There was a nagging voice at the back of my head as we got dressed, this voice was trying to remind me not to over do it as the last theme party we’d attended at the party-throwers venue had been more low-key. Suffice to say, the nagging voice was quickly silenced….

Fast-forward an hour later when we are walking into the party expecting to see some scandalousness….only to realise that we might just be the scandalees! The nagging voice in the back of my head was as smug as pie. I can just imagine how bad it looked to the more conservatively dressed looker ons! Luckily as the party progressed we realised we weren’t alone, more “Patra’s” came through…anywho, after a few cups of the delicious punch, we weren’t really concerned.

So about midway into the gig, I’m standing by the kitchen-cum-makeshift-bar area, throwing back some potent punch and attempting newly created variations of The Butterfly when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around expecting to see one of my girls and lo and behold it’s my boss.

*DEAD*

The man is visibly tickled pink. I am visibly mortified. Geez I know Joburg is small, but come on!

I make a lot of effort in the office to appear (read: APPEAR) professional, cool, calm and efficient. For goodness sakes, I wear tweed and pearls! And yet there I stood sozzled, mid-butterfly, looking like….*smh*

Thankfully I’ve been out of the office this whole week so I can save some face, but yah, priceless!

Have you guys every met bosses or work colleagues in the most unlikely settings or situations? Holla your stories in the comments!

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Mama, I Can Count: Two years ago, my baby sister bought me the entire season Gilmore Girls box set from China. Now, I’m a big Gilmore Girl fan. It’s got that perfect blend of feel good fluff and angst that keeps me glued to my seat.

On receiving and promptly opening this box set, I realised that all the writing on the covers of the discs were in Chinese. Weakened beyond disbelief, I promptly put the box set away and didn’t bother myself again…until this past weekend..

With help from Google (God Bless Google) I not only managed to sort the 40-odd discs but can proudly declare that I can now fluently read and count from one to eight in Chinese.

Who’d have thunk?

I’m Positive, “O” Positive, Shaken AND Stirred: Mosquitoes really don’t like me, which I know is a good thing…but WHY don’t they like me (middle child syndrome flaring up here)? It’s so weird, I can be sharing a room with someone or people and they’ll be swatting and cursing and complaining about being eaten alive and there’s nothing going after me!

I have one serious case of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) here.

The Lion and The Lamb: If you are in the Johannesburg area, catch this play/musical at Market Theatre in Newtown. Checked it out with some mates on Tuesday night and was blown away. I love its message, seeing as the festive season is literally in our laps. It’s a great reminder of message behind Christmas. Oh and if you aren’t interested in that, just go and check it out for the singing alone. Damn, some people can SANG!!!!

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I’m burrowed under the covers chickens and foresee a night of chick flicks and lots of tea ahead.

Another weekend is upon us, can I get an “AMEN!”

Love,

V x

Kinda like Vegas!

2009-11-13T11:57:00.000+02:00

It's that time of the year again, the annual christmas office party happens in t-minus 3 hours on the very auspicious Friday the 13th! Never mind that we're only half way through November and throwing the tinsel and crackers around like its going out of fashion.

Auspicious day indeed! Talk by the water-cooler indicates that this year's function may be strongly boycott (that may have been started by me), sadly the lure of free food won the day and The Revolution with have be to televised on another day.

I guess i can find solace in the simple fact that someone or some people are gonna lose control of their facualties and provide the rest of us with some pure entertainment. At these functions, office discretions always seem to come to a head (thank thee alcohol, the get uninhibitor). Tears are shed, accusations are made, indecent proposals are proposed and laughter rings in everyones ears....or so i hope anyway.

This is the first ever "recession" Office Party, so i suspect it won't be as festive as previous years. The dodge venue is already a dead giveaway that all is not well (from a budget spend point of view).

Hopefully i will have lots to report come Monday morning next week, i'm still waiting for a situation to top my current favourite office party memory from my days of employers-gone-by that involved the company PA declaring very loudly that she suspected the CEO of being gay...to his face...in front of everyone and then proceeding to chunda/throw-up in the corridor *awkward*.

Awww, memories!

What are your favourite office party memories? Holla in the comments!

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In other news:

Shirt-Off: Chick at work is wearing the same top as me and everyone in the office feels its their office-given obligation to notify me of this fact. Serves me right, that's what i get from shopping at Woolies :-)

V is for ....: Only got to bed in the early am 'cause i got carried away watching True Blood, its like a very R Rated version of Twilight. HBO doesn't hold nothing back man. 2009 is definitely the year of the blood suckers and i'm definitely on this bandwagon.

I will be getting my New Moon on sometime next week, finishing the rest of True Blood over the weekend (hectic schedule permitting), checking out that Vampire Diaries and hopefully find a willing participant on whom to practice my love-biting on, am just saying.

Crackberry: Can't put mine down, can't stop chatting, can't stop checking EVERYTHING. The madness must stop or i'm gonna lose friends and loved ones.

Homesick *sigh*

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Tag, i'm it!(Thanks to Zimchic for nominating me)

Here are the rules:

1. You can only use one word!
2. Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers.
3. Alert them that you have given them this award!
4. Have Fun!

The Survey

1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Braided
3. Your mother? Compassionate
4. Your father? Hilarious
5. Your favorite food? Indian
6. Your dream last night? Vampire
7. Your favorite drink? Vodka
8. Your dream/goal? Creativity
9. What room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Many
11. Your fear? Violence
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Boss-lady
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something that you aren’t? Patient
15. Muffins? Lemon
16. Wish list item? Emancipation
17. Where did you grow up? Harare
18. Last thing you did? Call
19. What are you wearing? Purple
20. Your TV? Friend’s
21. Your pets? None
22. Friends? Comedians
23. Your life? Stagnant
24. Your mood? Chilled
25. Missing someone? Always
26. Vehicle? Toyota
27. Something you’re not wearing? Watch
28. Your favorite store? @Home
29. Your favorite color? Green
30. When was the last time you laughed? Minutes
31. Last time you cried? Oprah
32. Your best friend? Inspirational
33. One place that I go to over and over? Bathroom (?!)
34. One person who e-mails me regularly? Gonzo
35. Favorite place to eat? Parkhurst

I suspect that my nominees have already done this, but there’s no rule against re-nominating someone right. So I call on:

Shonavixen
Lu
K (visit her new blog, glad to have you back musikana!)
Tres Enchante
Daughter of Eve
Hadassah

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Happy weekend chickens, try and be good!

Love,

V x

The One About The Naartjie & The Bar

2009-11-09T09:16:00.000+02:00

When I received the SOS sms from a friend calling for drink companions on Friday evening, I responded in real-time. The last two days of last week were a mess, a horrible mess: the kind of days that only copious amounts of alcohol can shed in good light.

Being the cheap date that I am, it was no surprise that I was extremely tipsy within consuming half a glass of something pink and bubbly. Geez we had fun. Hysterical giggles and random outbursts from us kept the bar crew greatly entertained. Our spoken language skills had deteriorated to that of a verbal dyslexic or as Zimbo’s would call it, chopes**! The chopes were so priceless I found myself tweeting them, good times.

It was round about this time that I spotted them. A varying display of fruit splendidly displayed at the back of the bar counter. Before you could say, “Vim, get it together we’re in a posh bar” I’d asked a rather bewildered waiter to hand me a naartjie* and proceeded to nonchalantly peel it, right there, by the bar.

Eh, yah. Not a good look.

Thankfully, my friends realising the consumption of carbs was long overdue, proceeded to usher me to the dining part of the establishment before I asked for more fruit, lol.

Luck would have it that the restaurant was offering delicious Bombay Gin cocktails, suffice to say that as we had started our drinking escapades early, the night was but a baby by the time my head hit the pillow.

Moral of the Story: Ask for Naartjies to take home instead J

*Naartjie: I think they’re called Tangerines in other parts of the world.
**Chope: The erroneous pronunciation of words mostly, but not always limited to, those found in the English Language. See attachment below for other examples (hope you can read it, i can't seem to make it any bigger)

Aphrodisiac, my bum: There are certain foods that I’ve never understood the hype about. Cavier is one of them and I’ve recently added oysters to the list.

I was force-fed my first and last oyster this past Saturday at the over-priced Johannesburg Food and Wine Festival. What’s so great about slurping back what feels like a chunk of snot sprinkled with Tabasco sauche?! Seeing as I am not a fan of mussels and oysters are first cousins with the mussel family, I should have seen it coming.

Don’t get me started on figs!

Pretentious food I believe in: Escargot/snails - give me those any day! Oh and lobster…and duck/quail what what.

As for aphrodisiac type foods that get you in a saucy mood…well, let’s just say some of us don’t need food to get us in that particular mood…am just saying, lol.

Seriously though, what’s constitutes “sexy” or “sex inducing” food anyway? Holla in the comments.

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Quentin kani: Caught the much talked about latest offering by Quentin Tarintino, “Inglourious Basterds” and was speechless. The man knows about gore and doesn’t shy away from disturbing scenes. In the same breath, he can draw out the suspense in a scene to a point at which as a viewer you want to scream, “Let me out of my misery already!”.

Inglourious Basterds was Quentin’s take on how Hitler and his cronies met their demise. I suspect Jews everywhere are cheering at his version of what went done in the end. Kudos to him for re-writing history and abstaining from the temptation of making it a clichéd happy tale that Hollywood is fond of churning out.

Check it out if you haven’t had a chance, and if you have seen it, what did you think?

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Other mentionables:

- I watched and re-watched Rhianna's interview with Barbara Walters and there was something a little off about it. Since the beat down incidence i've been solidly Camp RiRi and still am, but after catching the interview, i really am questioning her motives about finally speaking out. She seemed mostly defensive and kinda reluctant, like someone had put her up to it. Mmmmmmh.

What you think?

PS I love how when people want to look all respectable, they wear turtle-necks, lol - hilarious.

- Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Chelsea - that's all i am saying, lol!

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Seven Mondays to go till this year is out, can you believe it!

Have a fun one chickens!

Love,

V x

Something about nothing...

2009-11-05T11:25:00.000+02:00

Pie for breakfast....mmmmmmh.

Hill-billy Roots:

So i sorta killed Jigga's "BP3", like if i hear one more song off it, i will scream. It's been all i've listened to in the car for the past 3 weeks straight, that is, until i paid the local music store a visit over the weekend to buy...*gulp* Taylor Swift's latest offering.

Don't roll your eyes at me! I was on her ish before Yeezy decided to steal her spotlight. I was curious about what else she could do which resulted in me stalking into the store, hovering around the pop/rock section pretending to look undecided, then pouncing on the CD, paying for it and rushing out of there before being spotted.

I used to think i hated country music, but its that Dolly Parton/Kenny Rogers generation i can't stand. Then again, you won't catch me bopping to Tim McGraw or Garth Brooks. However, of late i 'm becoming partial to a little Dixie Chicks, Carrie Underwood and now Ms Swift.

It's a hoot!

The implications of bourgie living:

Soooooooooooooooooooo, it just dawned on me this morning that short of handwashing a few things on a weekly basis, i haven't actually done my own laundry in....yah, i'm actually too shy to give you actual figures and dates.

It's been that long.

One of the joys of sub-saharan Africa is that almost everyone is entitled to having a maid. Back home, most households have live-in ones, but here in the City of Gold, full-time help is a privilege for the very, very, very elite. The rest of us mere mortals make do with someone coming in once a week to spruce things up and do laundry....i loath ironing.

Not that i was, but i won't be taking "having help" for granted ever again. Next time i think my life sucks...i will remember that i don't do laundry :-)

Earthquake rocks city, work-related activites postponed till February 2010:

You know works bad when you find yourself conjuring up hypothetical scenarios like, the entire country being infected with a mild strain of highly contagious measles or a tropical typhoon that doesn't actually kill anyone, but requires that work shutdown for at least 3 months.

On the up-side :

I've stuck with my exercise regime for the last two weeks. I'm pretty darn impressed with myself, here's hoping i can keep this up:
The jacaranda's look so pretty - the whole city is bathed in lilac shades:
We're that much closer to December, which means holidays, which means family time, reunions with friends and sleeping in time too; and,
It's Thursday, need i say more.

Have a good one chickens!

Love,

V x

Sometimes...

2009-11-02T20:35:00.000+02:00

bad, sad things happen:

When i heard the wailing cry i just knew that something wasn't right. I knew that someone was dead. Nobody can emit such a sound unless in the deepest throes of grief and loss.

In boarding school i dreaded that sound. Every year without fail a sombre relative would come to deliver news to an unsuspecting student that a parent, sibling, close relative or friend had passed on. Then you would hear it, that cry.
The kind of cry that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The cry that we secretly hope is not catching and does not find its way to us.

Saturday night, i heard that cry.

The caretaker of the complex where i stay was gunned down in a senseless mugging, no less than 20 feet from my complex gate.

His widow's grief was made known to us all.

R.I.P Solly

we have to start somewhere:

During the Sunday church service i attended a man stood before his community, family and friends and asked for their forgiveness.

He did not make any excuses for his actions, no detailed backdrop was provided to explain as to how he'd got to such a low point in his life and committed such a heinous deed.

Instead he acknowledged his actions, owned them and spoke the tale of his road to recovery, enlightenment and forgiveness that had led him back to the very community that he had torn himself apart from through his actions.

How do you begin to ask for forgiveness for murdering your parents? Forgiveness from God, the deceased, from yourself, your loved ones and your community...how do you begin?

You just do. You start and you never stop asking.

This man shamed me, not because of what he had done, but rather because he highlighted what i was not prepared to do. Here he stood in front of people still harbouring anger, pain and resentment and he still asked for the impossible, had the courage to try and express his regret and rehabilitation...and here i am, refusing to let go of the petty grievances i harbour against others and through sheer cowardice, avoid to initiate the necessary conversations required to begin the healing process.

We must try.

We must start.

we just don't get our way:

How do 460 tickets get sold out in 1 minute? Internet connectivity in South Africa is decent but i sincerely doubt that those tickets, the tickets for a certain Ms Winfrey's show scheduled to occur on 30th November 2009, sold out to consumers on-line in less than a minute. The promoters claim no pre-bookings or pre-sales occured prior to the tickets becoming available online. Women stood in queues in their numbers only to be turned away when not even one person had been able to purchase a ticket.

Foul play is suspected from my end.

*shrug* Twas too much to ask perhaps, that things go as they are said to go.

monday's don't entirely suck:

Meetings are upbeat. The day does not drag. Deliverables are completed. The hot chocolate machine out-does itself with the foamy froth fluffed to perfection.

it all comes together and you just know...you know?!

Feel free to share your "sometimes" in the comments.

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Less than 3 hours till this Monday is officially done and i may just be a teeny bit sad to see the back of it. Things went the way they should and i am glad.

I will now nurse my lemon ginger tea while the rain serenades me and i attempt to keep sleep at bay (an exercise in futility).

Sleep tight chickens,

Love,

V x

And in other news...

2009-10-29T11:03:00.000+02:00

Went out hiking on Sunday and felt a great affinity with the outdoors. That doesn't mean you'll catch me camping any time soon but i'm definitely more open to this hiking business.
Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is turning out to be a bit of an emotional read. Her "Half a yellow sun" wasn't so bad, there was some balance, but this book is just draining me.
The great debate: A friend of mine deleted all her male friends from FB as she believes that noone can ever have a platonic relationship with the opposite sex.

Unecessarily drastic measure or does the lady have a point?
Toni Braxton has a new song??? Seriously? Eish, comebacks are the new black.
Ever notice that your bad mood is inversely proportional to the amount of carbs you've consumed for the day?
Succumbed to peer pressure and got myself a schweet blackberry phone that for some reason didn't come with a how-to manual. Thanks to the powers that be (read: google) i'm finding my way around this contraption.
Anyone watched Michael Jackson's "This Is It" yet? I will probably catch it in 2012 or something when it feels less morbid to watch. I still haven't watched "The Dark Knight" due to a similar train of thought.

Chickens, tell me something interesting, i need some entertainment before i resort to desperate means.

V x

Who...Are...You?

2009-10-22T17:07:00.000+02:00

There's a scene in Alice in Wonderland where Alice happens upon a Caterpillar perched upon a "schroom (suspect) smoking from his hubbly bubbly/hookah (even more suspect) and asks Alice a pretty simple question for a character whose entire being is linked to harmful narcotics. Anywho, Alice struggles to answer the question (and she's the lucid one).

The dialogue goes like this:

Caterpillar: Who... are... you?
Alice: Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
Caterpillar: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
Alice: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
Caterpillar: I do not know.
Alice: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.

So where am i getting to with this intro? Here's the thing...

Rant Alert

I am &^%$ing fed-up with meeting Zimbabweans who were born in Zimbabwe, raised in Zimbabwe, who have spent less than a freaking decade in the diaspora somewhere and have conveniently forgotten where they come from!

Now the topic of this rant is not Zim specific, any country that has a large number of it population living outside its borders can sympathise with this predicament.

Exhibit A

I live and work in South Africa and South Africa is conveniently next door to Zim. Now before Jacob Zuma so kindly opened up SA's borders and let my country men and women flow in willy-nilly, there were already a lot of us here.

If the United Kingdom is our Harare North, then without a doubt Johannesburg is how Harare South.

Zimbabweans are as ubiquitous in the South African workplace as vuvuzela's are to any Bafana Bafana matches. When i meet a fellow native of my homeland, its no longer a big deal. I am very well aware we aren't gonna be best friends and skip off into sunset but we will do is acknowledge eachother, ask the standard questions zimbos tend to ask ("what school did you go to", "which part of Zim are you from", "Do you know [insert random name]") to establish common ground and then it's business as usual.

I don't feel there's any reason to hide where i come from...then again, its not like i could, my name is an instant giveaway. However, there are two of my colleagues with anglosaxon first names who would prefer not to let their citizenship be known to other zimbabweans when we are in the office, at other clients or in general social settings.

This irks me to high heavens. You have no idea...okay, you may have a slight idea.

These little shape-shifters are hellbent on trying to fit-in to their adopted nation and pander to the citizens of their adopted nation, all at the expense of turning their back on who they are and where they come from. They have no interest in affliating themselves with their past/history/traditions and thats fully translated in their whole demeanor.

I'm a firm believer of "When in Rome, do like the Romans" and experiencing new things, new cultures and people who come from a different background from yours. I'm not saying its mandatory for you to affirm 20 times a day to everyone who's listening, who you are and where you come from.

All i am asking is that when someone asks you where you come from, you look that person dead in the eye and just as casually declare the country of your origin/birth...even if saidcountry is under fire in the media, even if said-country is the laughing stock of the free world.

The bottom line is that its YOUR country and if you can't be proud of where you come, then you need to take a long hard look in the mirror my friend.

Rant Over

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Random Ramblings from Yours Truly:

I'm not sure how i feel about this album cover of Ms Fentyn. It looks like Disturbia revisted. Haven't heard the track yet, i'm a little scared to, to tell you the truth. Any of you heard it yet?
Finally caught District 9 the other night, it had been a minute since i'd visited the inside of a movie house. I really enjoyed the movie! It was part comedy, part drama. I can see why the Nigerian government banned the flick (although in all honesty, there was only one Nigerian, the rest of his henchmen were clearly South African but i guess the rest of the world wouldn't get that).

The afrikaans accent was killling me softly, spent the whole time chuckling. One of the sad things is that all that footage of those shacks and informal settlements that are District 9 are for real. Everyday citizens of South Africa calls those asbestos and tin creations home, there's nothing fictional about that.

As for the movie, I smell a sequel and quite honestly, i can't wait...those poor little displaced prawns need to get home ek se!
Corrinne Bailey Rae is releasing a new album by the end of the year. I am so happy. Was starting to think she would never come back *gulp*
I'm doing some serious catch of shows i've missed in the last few months! I'm going into hiding over the weekend after having visited my local Woolies for sustanance to pull me through.

What shows or movies do you guys enjoy watching when you need some serious downtime?

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One more day and then the weekend is here!

Have a great weekend chickens and just remember, when life seems hopeless and you can't seem to go on....think of your crush/significant other with no panties/boxers on :-)

Works every time. True story.

Love,

The Greatest Show on Earth…well, almost.

2009-10-19T11:26:00.000+02:00

There are four of us wondering around the office this morning sporting goofy smiles, drinking large amounts of coffee and generally looking like we could do with another 3 hours of sleep easy.

The ladies and I caught the Keri Hilson and John Legend concert last night, separately, but our experiences all sound pretty much the same.

John’s performance was stellar. To say he seduced a room full of women is putting it lightly…very lightly. Now, I am a fan of the man but before last night, I wasn’t really that big a fan. Yes, I liked his usually popular tracks, but wasn’t losing consciousness at the thought of his concert. However, after last night, I understand.

For a pocket sized man, he packs a charismatic punch! Geez, I was tearing up in certain parts, swooning in others…it was emotional. The friend who I’d gone with was watching him for the third time and you wouldn’t know it from all her hooting and hollering.

John Legend is a professional who delivers the goods each and every time.

It was an absolute pleasure…not the greatest show on earth, but pretty darn close.

Side note: I am TOTALLY hating on the girl John pulled up from the crowd to slow dance with! Nelly if you are reading this, i am sooooooooooooooooo happy for you (read: it should have been me biyatch, lol).

Miss Keri Baby wasn’t bad either but she’s still a toddler when it comes to this music game, but I have high hopes for her. She’s witty, freaking gorgeous and knows how to engage the crowd. She was a likable opening act…

Unlike a certain Ms Ella-ella-eh-eh I watched perform in the same venue, over the same weekend exactly 3 years ago. Wow, she was bad. Her performance was about as limp as a discarded banana peel lying on the side of a road in 35 degree centigrade weather!

During the concert I compiled my fantasy-will-turn-into-reality list of artists I need to see perform in the not-so-distant future:

Beyonce
Jay-Z (again)
John Mayer (like duh)
Coldplay
Alicia Keyes
Justin Timberlake
Kanye West
Mariah Carey
Lily Allen

Mmmh, I’m sure I have forgotten someone off that list, but there you have it!

Have any of you watched anyone off of my wish-list? And which artist would you give your left kidney to see perform?

Holla in the comments!

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What a load of hot air: If you’ve been following stories in the news then I’m sure you would have come across the whole balloon boy fiasco.

Clip notes: A family in the US who use hot air balloons to conduct “scientific” experiments believed that one of their hot balloons that was “accidentally” let loose contained their 6 year old son. Said son was found alive and well after the po-po shot down the hot air balloon, found no child…speculated said-child may have fallen out, only to realise said-child was chilling at home…in the attic.

Anywho, now it turns out that confessions have come forth and the parents are guilty of leading everyone and their dog on. No reason has been provided for the publicity stunt, and I doubt any explanation going forward will actually make sense.

Attention mongering has reached new lows…

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Return to Innocence: Whilst partaking in some activities of the pampering kind (read: I was getting my nails did), I sh*t you not, a father walked in with his two daughters who looked about 8 and 11 years old. He’d brought in these little princesses to get….wait for it….under-arm and leg waxes.

Are you freaking kidding me! Come ON!

I may be out of touch with what’s what when it comes to anyone born after Mandela was elected president of the Republic of South Africa, but I don’t think any girl-child should be partaking in such rituals until a) she actually has bodily hair that requires removal and b) she has outgrown Hannah Montana, Care Bears, jumping ropes, giggling and all those other things the pre-adolescents engage in.

Childhood clearly needs to make a comeback!

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Hope you’re all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this Monday morning chickens.

Here’s wishing you an awesome (and that’s sarcasm-free) day.

Love,

V x

It's Rex Manning John Mayer Day

2009-10-16T10:15:00.000+02:00

The day after one's birthday is such an anti-climatic event.

After the fairytale night of wining and dining on my bhava-day, coming into the office is feeling like such a non-event. I am sipping on a sugar-free Red Bull courtesy of a very intuitive co-worker, according to him, i look like sh*t.

Random side note: This sugar-free Red Bull is very very suspect.

I'm looking at the ingredients: Glucuronolactone, Xantham Gum, Taurine...and all i hear is "liquid heroin". Oh and how can you proclaim to be sugar-free if you include ingredients like "caramel" and sweetners in there....am just saying.

So where was i again?

Ah yes, I hate the day after your birthday. I feel like the runner-up beauty queen, i feel like Jacob before he swindled Esau of his birthright, i feel like how Joe Bidden must feel everday....

Ah well, here's to another 364 days and counting.

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Today isn't a complete waste of a day 'cause it my future baby daddy's birthday today, yaaaaay. Why do i know this...ummm, well cause i probably know WAY to much about this man than is probably healthy, hehehe.

So i've managed to fight my stalker instincts and not send him a happy birthday tweet (the older i get, the more i must resist my groupie tendencies). Instead i will wish him a happy birthday from the safety of my blog and list my favourite John Mayer tracks, in no order of priority.

Feel free to holla your fave JM tracks if you're a fan....and if you aren't a fan, what the hell are you waiting for mheni, get on this train already!

The List:

Comfortable
Stop This Train
Something's Missing
Daughters
Back to You
Bigger than my Body
In Repair
Split Screen Sadness
Vultures
Say

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Compensated what? Did any of you read the article on CNN about school girls and grown ass women in Hong Kong having sex with strangers in exchange for money that is used to buy them stuff that a) either their parents aren't getting them or b) stuff their peers have and they want too.

Now i don't know why the article doesn't just call a spade, a spade. The last i heard, any monetary exchanges in favour for sexual favours is called Prostituition. They want to sugar coat the situation and call it "compensated dating", huh, nice euphemism but we ain't buying it.

The authorities have a big problem on their hands, something's very broken with the family unit if you notice your 14yr old come home, blinged to max and don't suspect anything of it. These girls wouldn't have a chance in hell if they'd be raised by an African mother.

Firstly, they would have already been thrashed into the middle of next week, sent to extra bible studies or confession, sent to the bhundu's/gwasha's to chill with their grandparents till they knew what's what...then thrashed somemore and had their movements monitored going forward till the year 2097.

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Let me get back to work...or attempt to look like i am working ;-)

Have a wonderful weekend chickens!

Love,

V x

iBirthday Yami

2009-10-15T09:24:00.000+02:00

Now this could be a coincidence but i swear the traffic was that much lighter on the way to work this morning 'cause it's my birthday...scouts honour!

Usually my birthday arrives and i get caught up in the giddiness of it but this year's birthday is an extremely reflective and more meaningful one.

You see, a year to the day, i was miserable! Everything was off! I was hanging out with people who i could barely tolerate and vice versa, i was still pining for a lost love, i was trying so hard to fit in that i lost myself in the process and my job was stressing me.

In the months that followed things got even worse, to put it lightly. I have never in my life been in so low and so a dark place...

And then i saw the proverbial light.

Light came in the form of family who wouldn't allow me stay down...i have some of the best siblings anyone could ask for. They're fearless, they're bull-shit intolerant, they're my constant cheerleaders yelling for me on the sidelines, they are the truth tellers who don't waste their time mincing their words.

They challenge me, they inspire me, they motivate me, the cuss me out when necessary (which is often) and despite all this, they love me and that's all that really counts.

Light shone from my true friends.

When sh*t hits the proverbial fan its a good time to look around and still see who's standing around with you. You'd be shocked. Those I'd put my faith in had all but crumbled at the nth hour. However, those who remained by my side were the biggest shock of all. Their love and support is the type that tends to go unnoticed and underappreciated. It shamed me that it took the worst situations for me to finally realise the true value of their love and friendship!

The most unlikely light came from you my chickens on blogville!

It's hard to explain to people who don't blog, follow blogs or even know what a blog is the happiness i gain from mine. I find myself referencing your comments in everyday conversation like i've known you all for years (i get many random looks from people for doing this). To those of you who've come back here regularly and shared your ideas and thoughts, i send each of you a heartfelt cyber hug and thank you for keeping me going and supporting me in the most unlikely way.

So the theme for this year's birthday is Gratitude...dare i say, i'm not even bothered about what gifts i get as i realise that making it this far is a gift all in itself.

Okay, enough gushing from me, i'm now getting emotional :-)

May you have a blessed day chickens, that is full of light, love and laughter!

Love,

V x

Keeping Up Appearances: The Lengths Some of Us Will Go To

2009-10-12T11:48:00.000+02:00

TMI Alert: I may or may not reference events of a gaseous nature.

Picture the scene.

It’s a mellow Saturday night and you and your boo are bunking down to some vegging on the couch after inhaling many carbs and meat products. Thing is, you are gluten-intolerant but momentarily forgot this while scoffing a plate full of pasta, as you were surfing a dopamine-high and feeling invincible.

Until the rumbling in your tummy reminds you that you ain’t no super woman and pay back is a b*tch. You realise that a trip to the bathroom is imminent. Thing is, you're at your boo’s place…were privacy is relatively non-existant and trust me, you need privacy - sound-proof, nobody in a 10km radius type privacy and that’s pretty impossible.

Sweat beads collect on your top-lip, time is running out, so you enter into a hypothetical conversation that goes like this:

You: Laying it extra thick “Babe, can you go upstairs please.”

Your Boo: Why?

You: Rolling eyes ‘Cause I need to use the bathroom, duh.

Your Boo: Looking very confused “Ummm, I don’t get it. Why do I need to go upstairs if you need to go to the bathroom? Just go.”

You: Exasperated beyond all belief “Sweetie, just indulge me on this one please. Just go upstairs.

Your Boo: Looking at you like you’ve lost your damn mind "I’m not going anywhere."

You: Realising subtlety won’t win the day “Listen, I need to drop it like it’s hot and chances are tremors may be felt and heard in neighbouring countries. I could really do with privacy ‘cause stage-fright is a huge possibility.

Your Boo: Convulsing in fits of laughter “You’re impossible. Go already…I’m not budging.”

You slink off in defeat to do your business but five minutes after arrival find out that stage fright has taken a hold of your senses...and bowels.

Nothing happens.

For another five minutes you have an internal debate with yourself. One part of you (the solid practical part) tells you stop being silly and go already. After all, this is a natural part of life and everybody does. However, a rather insistent part of you (largely influenced by glossy magazines and random drivel) urges you to fight the feeling as it will strip you of all your mystery and make you undesirable - yah, don't ask.

Thankfully, practicality wins the day and you emerge ten minutes later, ten pounds lighter with a skip in your step.

Now, this incident I’ve described above is pretty common judging by my research. I have a friend who can’t go unless she’s at home. This means holidays tend to be bowel-movement free and painful towards the end. I have married friend who after five years of marriage claims her husband is none-the-wiser about her need to “drop off the kids” as this event tends to take place at 3am every morning when said-husband is out for the count.

Ridiculous as it is, this need to keep up appearances manifests itself in a million different ways; from my boy’s ex-girlfriend who would wake up an hour before her alarm went off to “put her face on” and brush her teeth so he wouldn’t see her in bad light to women friends who believe a man should never see you putting on your make up as it robs a woman of her “mystery”.

The madness must stop people! We must keep it real…okay not too real, but you know what I mean right ;-)

Holla in the comments with your stories or experiences in “keeping up appearances”

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This Ain’t American Idols People: The girls and I went out on Friday night to get our Karaoke on at Monte Casino. The process of picking a song is so overwhelming, the choices are endless.

When I come across a song that’s a strong contender I have to mentally go through the whole song in my head to weed out any suspicious high notes lurking about – I will save Mariah’s impossible tra-la-la’s for the car ride to work and back thanks. So after making selections (Madonna’s “Material Girl” and Jamelia’s “Superstar” got through the selection panel) we waited our turn.

Eh, where we just not shocked.

I think we picked the “I’m-no-amateur-and-wouldn’t-mind-a-record-deal” night ‘cause people were blowing that mic up in a way that deserved Grammy’s. Sure, one or two people sucked but I’d say 90% of the people who went up to perform, killed it. Talk about putting pressure on the rest of us folks, of average singing talent (expect in the shower where the acoustics are always amazing).

After a couple cocktails nobody on my table cared whether they could hold a note or not…thank the heavens for alcohol, the great ~~equaliser~~ tranquiliser :-)

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Today is a coolish, overcast day in the City of Gold. It’s what I’m calling an “Empire State of Mind” day = mellow and uber chilled with a slight shower of nostalgia expected in the late afternoon.

Have a great one chickens.

Love,

V x

Sound Bytes & Brain Farts

2009-10-09T14:34:00.000+02:00

What a week chickens, what a week!

24 hours in the day just isn't enough anymore. Feeling stretched thin is a bit of an understatement right about now. I wish i was one of those human beings who could get by on 3 hours of sleep then i would be sorted. Sadly, i'm a 7-8hrs kinda girl so my time management skills have been severely tested.

Here's an urban legend i've personally debunked for y'all: Not all women are good at multi-tasking.

Yes, i am pretty lousy at it. My co-worker told me i'd make a lousy mother because of it (thanks buddy). So i've realised that instead of doing a thousand things at once and getting nowhere, the one-task at a time approach is the way forward.....

Thought i'd share.

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The versatility of black hair is outstanding...truly it is!

When my hair is not stressing me to high heavens, its usually my source of delight and joy. After losing patience with my short pixie do that was higher maintenance than Ivana Trump herself, i decided that i would return to my braid roots. Braids are the black woman's staple, when all other hairdos fail (perm, relax, weave, corn-rows) getting your hair braided is your fail-proof contingency.

My current fail-proof plan residing on my head took all of 12 hours (yes, 12) to get done - supposedly i have a lot of hair, no sh*t. It is also a rather interesting shade of golden brown meets red...Now that wasn't intentional, but as you know, haggling with one's hairdresser who believes they know best, is a futile exercise. She just kept saying, "Trust me, it'll look great."

No truer words were spoken. It's been 5 days since i became a red-head and i love it. I have something to blame my temper tantrums on (finally) and i've been pre-positioned enough times to get a bit of ego, "I walk like this 'cause i can back it up"

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He's awesome.

I love him.

And now he's a Nobel Peace Prize winner....imagine that.

This is the first bit of positive news i've read about Obama in weeks, it's official to assume that his presidential honeymoon is over....waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay over. With SNL taking a stab at him recently, he's no longer the media darling and is "fair game".

I just pray he proves his critics wrong...hopefully sooner rather than later.

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October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month so.........

Feel yourselves up!

If you feel odd about feeling yourself up

Get a friend to help you

*ahem*

Be Vigilant!

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So Whitney's back and i think i'm the only person who doesn't actually care. Seriously. I prefer the pre-millenium Whitney but anything thereafter, count me out.

I'm a MC girl all the way :-)

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Public Service Announcement

Just in case you needed a gentle reminder!

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Have a lovely weekend chickens!

May the sun shine down on you, the DJ play "your song", good looking strangers compliment you and your bank balance reflect six figure digits!

Love,

V x

All Thai'd Up!

2009-09-30T22:41:00.000+02:00

When you part with good money to get felt up, it better be good = Cue a nice little Thai Massage parlour nestled in the hills of Northern Johannesburg.

Lotus flowers floating in glass bowls and a relaxing foot massage were what met my girls and I, so far so good. We got cute little linen karate-type outfits to wear and lay prostrate on some zen-ish type mats waiting for individual Thai masseurs to work their brand of magic.

Black magic that is!

I'm no stranger to this particular brand of relaxation given my penchant for swedish and hot stone massages, but this Thai one was another story. Here's a few things i learnt:

1. I don't think it's normal to hear the cracking of bones when one is trying to relax, it does not instill any confidence in the person literally handling you.

2. There's something physically stifling about being stood on! I don't care whether it sometimes felt good...its violating on some primal level.

3. Being borderline narcoleptic has its merits, when the pain got too intense i sorta passed out, my form of escapism.

4. It really shouldn't be called a massage if the process doesn't involve essential oils of some sort.

5. Don't be deceived by the look of those delicate Thai ladies, these chicks will have you whimpering for your mummy in a matter of minutes.

6. *ahem* The butt massage was kinda nice...am just saying.

7. Always Google activities you intend on participating in but are generally clueless about...expectations should be managed up-front.

So would i do it again? Probably not. Life's too short to get literally walked all over, lol

That's my story and i'm sticking to it...but i'm open to any opinions or suggestions you may hold on the topic ;-)

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Let the record show that the group formerly known as Destiny's Child can now officially be absolved of any future victimisation given their prior ejection of LaToya and that other chick none of us remember, 'cause after the stunt the Sugarbabes have just pulled, there's a new renegade girl band in town!

With the hostile removal of the last pioneer Keisha Buchanan, this girl band really should go by another name, i propose "Those Other Chicks"

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Here's a list of topics this week that i'm too weak to write about...too weak:

1. Bob's interview with Amanpour on CNN this past week *smh* - (Paula Abdul's lyrics come to mind, "Two steps forward, two steps back").

2. The Kardashians...why are these people famous? Okay we know why, it all started with a sex tape and now one shotgun wedding and a bun in the oven later, they're all famous? WTF? I'm still waiting on Reggie Bush to get some sense.

3. Airline Tickets: I've complained about this before but what's with the excessive airport tax and misleading prices. The figure you see before the tax looks reasonable, one click later and BAM, the number has doubled due to airport tax!

4. Getting older...my birthday is creeping up and you'd think Doomsday was approaching. I feel like hibernating for the next fortnight to re-master the Master Plan.

Feel free to add to this list: What topics or people have are making you weak this week?

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The last quarter of the year is upon us, can you believe it? Ordinarily October is my favourite month of the year, for obvious reasons, and i'm hoping this month lives up to the hype...impending birthday blues and all.

Keep smiling chickens and always remember, when life hands you lemons...insist on exchanging them for chocolate at the very least, lol.

Love,

V x

Hey, Big Dreamer!

2009-09-27T23:06:00.000+02:00

What’s worse?

Dreaming too big or dreaming too small?

Now you could argue that either of those two scenarios can be problematic and self-limiting if you aren’t laying down some action plans to realise the dreams in question. Still, I’m all for the “Dream big” scenario - the bigger and more outlandish the dream, the better, after all, this is the one space where anything goes, so why not break the rules and defy gravity?!

However, after attending a training session with my colleagues, I realised that some people don’t really get the concept of “Sky is the Limit”

Exhibit A

The training instructor was trying to highlight the difference between the features and benefits of certain work-related services and asked us to imagine we had just won the Lottery (read: You’re rolling in it!) were able to purchase the car of our dreams and to list what features we would want this car to come with. Sounds easy enough right…wrong.

The responses went a little like this:

Instructor: So shoot guys, what would your dream car’s features be?

Voice at the back: GPS Navigation system
(Err, don’t all standard luxury vehicles come with a GPS navigation system?!)

Guy on the next table: ABS Brakes
(Oh boy, these people need some help, I’m gonna have to say something)

Me: Convertible
(Why are they looking at me like I just said I want a 24ct gold interior, eh?)

Chick to my right: Mini-bar
(Now we’re talking, maybe there’s hope)

Guy in the back: Roof rack
(Roof rack…ummm, on a convertible, eish)

Ultimately, the whole exercise had me weak, weak, weak! You have just won the lottery, need to buy a car and you’re thinking about ABS brakes.

*DEAD*

So to start off the working week, and in the knowledge that we’ve got some mighty big dreamers up in here, let me poise the following question to you, my chickens:

What was/is your big dream of 2009 and how are you planning on setting out to achieve it or if you have already achieved it, share the details!

Holla in the comments!

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Rize Africa: Speaking of making dreams happen, i attended the pre-launch of Rize Africa a media movement aimed at giving a different perspective on current discourse on Africa.

Although the site (http://www.rizeafrica.com/) is still under construction, on it's official debut on the 26th October 2009, the fully interactive site will be a place that will encourage debate on a wide range of pertinent political & socio economical issues in African society.

I love seeing people's great ideas come to fruition and under the guidance of the founder, the lovely Linda Mabhena, i think Rize Africa is destined for greatness, especially if the pre-launch was anything to go by.

The lavishly catered affair (read: I ate to my heart's content) had star studded appearances by the likes of: SA's R'nB sensation, 'Leanne"; the no-holds-barred Zimbabwean Slam poet "Black Anakin" and up-and-coming Zimbabwean hiphop sensation Anonymoucity.

African's repping and doing us all proud: Rize Africa indeed!

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To think there are no more public holidays or long weekends in SA until December is enough to make me want to jump from the nearest high-rise building!

This past week was divine - 3 day working weeks should be enforced internationally, the world would be a better place 'cause of it.

Until such a time, keep your heads' up chickens and remember that Monday's are the new black. True story ;-)

Love,

V x

My Poker Phuza Face

2009-09-18T13:58:00.000+02:00

Must sleep.

Can't sleep.

Am too scared to nip to the bathroom for my usual 10min power naps 'cause i suspect that i could pass out for much longer than that and sleep through all alarms, so i'm not gonna chance it.

I'm no good at partying like a rockstar on week nights...not that i was partying per se...more drinking...on an empty stomach.

Any drink that ends in "Collins" i will consume. The Collins family and I go waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back, last night it was a divine Kalahari Collins combination or four that kept me in high spirits (mind the pun).

I didn't behave inappropriately...but had inappropriate thoughts...and then annoying thoughts and i may have run my mouth a little (read: a lot).

*cringe*

Worst of all, i had a crazy early morning meeting today that i managed to make thanks to a well timed sms sent through to remind me to get up (bless). I was so early i managed to get great parking on the 2nd floor (i'm usually stuck on the 5th), but my buzz was quickly killed when the person i was meeting cancelled on me...15mins into our scheduled meeting time.

Arggggh.

Now i am drinking coffee like a joke. I don't like coffee but i would consume coffee beans whole today just to stay awake.

2hrs and counting...

Sanlam Fashion Week 2009: Before my Phuza Thursday got into full swing a mate and I checked out Lunar's eco-friendly, uber chic collection at this years high fashion extravaganza.

The ambiance was great, fashionista's everywhere. I may not have gotten the memo declaring that short grecian styled dresses and gold gladiator thong sandals/high heels were to be the evening's standard dress for all females between 15 and 55, but the ladies were looking great!

The true divas were of course the packs (yes, packs) of gay fashionistas in their early 20's rocking styles and clothes so fashion-forward, you'd think it was 3009!

The auditorium was packed with tse-lebrities, the usual: Dion Chang, Lira, an ex Ms South Africa here and there.

The collection was lovely, a bit muted...almost too safe, but lovely still! Shades of white, black and grey graced the runway (note to casting agents: Don't give the very dark model a grey dress to wear, she just ends up looking ashy!).

However ,the true highlight of the show was the vibrant live singer who sang flirty and fun French cabaret classics to acompany the models as they sashayed down the runway.

Damn, she was good...like REALLY good! She made the show.

I love fashion shows...Bryant Park here i come *dreamy swoon*

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Wear your sun block, drink your water and keep it strictly fabulous this weekend chickens!

Love,

V x

100 Ways To Be A Good Girl (This Is Definitely Not One of Them)

2009-09-15T14:46:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: Any family members and close friends reading this may want to opt out of going any further, this may be a little too TMI for y’all. But if you keep on reading and decide to bring it up in future conversations or meetings, please note, I will play dumb and deny, deny, deny :-) You have been duly warned.

In a blog post that I wrote a few moons ago, I asked you, my chickens, what was making you happy and I got a series of responses including one where a reader professed that her pet rabbit was making her happy.

“Pet rabbit” I thought, “How sweet” and proceeded to asked the blogger what the pet rabbit’s name was whilst I envisaged pictures of fluffy bunnies hopping in green meadows on a summer’s day.

Fast-forward about 5 comments later and these Bugs Bunny visions of mine where quickly dashed, turns out the said “pet-rabbit” making this reader smile was in fact her rabbit shaped vibrator…umm, yah.

For someone with a mind that has its own zip-code in the gutter, I really missed the boat on that one.

Over the next few weeks, a series of unrelated events led me to believe that pet rabbits are fast becoming the most popular domestic household feature, second to the microwave (God Bless the microwave).

Initially, I confess, I didn’t understand the fuss! I was raised to be a very good Catholic-African girl after all– so effective was my up-bringing that when I heard one of girffriends bragging about her new pet, one of my first thoughts was, ‘Won’t they make you go blind?”…okay I am joking about that, but you get my drift:

Good black girls don’t do such things…or do they?

I am proud to announce that good black girls everywhere are the proud owners of pet rabbits…octopi...parrots, you name it. I am also pleased to announce that quite a few black men are avid endorsers of this initiative by black women to, ummm, save the animals, hehehe. ;-) Whilst doing some investigative research *cough* for this post, I conducted interviews with some brothas that proclaim to know their way around a power tool, if you know what I mean….daaaaayum *vim fans herself*

What kind of amateur journalist would I be if I didn’t experience the goodness of providing a pet with a home first hand? I am now the proud owner of a bottle-nosed dolphin called “Flipper” that makes me smile.

I believe the world would be a happier place if there just a few more animal lovers in it *wink*

Are you or your significant other pet owners? If not, are you looking to adopt anytime soon?

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Black people, come on! What the heck was going on this weekend? Kanye was throwing Cognac induced temper tantrums at the VMA's, Serena was showing her Compton roots on the court (i suspect Common had something to do with that) and Lewis Hamilton came 16th or something ridiculous like that at the Italian Grand Prix.

K summed it up best when she said to me, " I think this week is "I wish a B*tch would do something to make me mad" week in our black community, world wide.

Now i can forgive Ye just about anything and yes, he did have a point, Bey should have taken that prize away, like John Legend twittered, " Side note: It's slightly weird that you can be a female and win Video of the Year, but not win Female Video of the Year." Conspiracy theories aside, Ye's hijacking of Ms Swift's moment was not the way to go about raising his concerns.

We know he's still grieving and find his solace in the form of a one Amber Rose (*smh*) and some Henessey...but bra, he's running out of excuses! At least he didn't "Chris Brown" Taylor and hastily apologised within 24hrs... the backlash will be minimal. Until then, Mr West, please get it together!

As for Serena...it was just one of those days i guess!

Thank goodness for the likes of Whitney Houston (back from the brink and telling all on Oprah), Tiger Woods (tearing up the greens and back better than before) and of course Jay-Z...

Speaking of Shawn....

Blueprint 3 is sold out everywhere in Jozi, awwww, and i am doing my head in trying to find it. I refuse to get a bootleg copy, i want the real deal...that's how dedicated i am to the cause.

To those fortunate souls who've heard the brilliance, is this album being overhyped or is it the real deal?

Holla in the comments!

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"I had the time of my life, and i never felt this way before": RIP Patrick Swayze

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Have a great Tuesday chickens!

Remember that when the world gets the better of you...consuming a can of Creme Soda on a hot summer's day can right most wrongs.

True story.

Love,

V x