All day long I was looking forward to chillin' wid him tonight, but I guess I didn't realise how much.

I skipped for 2 extra minutes this afternoon, my energy seemingly boosted by the prospect of an actual date after so long.

I washed and conditioned my hair,then I lathered up with Herbal Essence Body Wash, so ya KNOW I was smellin' good.

I dressed, fixed up my hair and glossed up my lips.

My whole frikkin' aura was in "date mode"....then he called to say he was tired and he was just gonna crash tonight.

Well, I felt like crying. I hate being this disappointed!
Here I sit, at home, alone on a Friday night, looking all cute, and smelling absolutely delicious.
What a waste.

Why people’s gotta be so friggin’ hard-ears? It only seems like common sense to me that if you owe somebody money, you bloody-well PAY them! Ya don’t hem and haw and stall and all manner of foolishness!
Rule No. 1: You don’t fuck around with other people’s money! You just DON’T!

That uppity bitch now got me offset and I can’t even concentrate on workin’.
Aaaaargh! I need me one-a them punching bag things.

It always surprises me how much some guys are into women's feet.

I mean, yeah, pretty feet are all well and good, y'know, part of the whole package and all that, but for some fellas, The Feet is where it ALL starts!


Realization That Most Surprised Me About Myself:
Turns out I may not be entirely opposed to having my toes sucked.

Yee-ha! Down girl!

Another Independence Day has come and gone.
I thought the radio stations woulda made a bigger deal of it and play some frikkin' BAJAN music for a change. My bad, guess tha's just not the point of our Independence Day.

C.O.T.
Went to Coney Island on Friday, and rode all de baddest rides! Yup, I was a real soldier, and yet I felt like a little girl again! I guess I still am a little girl in the grand scheme of things.

Aw man...I want to blog some more, but I'm just too sleepy....
Y'know, it's a case of the mind is willing but the body ain' able.
I think I'll take the liberty of typing utter rubbish now and blame it on my poor sleep-deprived self.

I kinda want a puppy....but I dunno if I could take care of it...I mean, I've had dogs before, but it's been so long...what am I sayin', of course I could take care of it...I'm a competent young woman...maybe I should get a hamster...I always thought they were pretty cute...I wonder if they bite.....maybe I should get fish instead....they won't bite...wait, tha's not true....fish bite me all the time...Note to Self...no fish...

Okay, time to haul ass to bed now. G'night.

I’m fascinated by the ethics of BET.

People like Jennifer Lopez, Justin Timberlake, Bubba Sparxx, Stagga Lee, and Eminem will have their videos played back to back on Black Entertainment Television, while many ACTUAL Black people such as Lenny Kravitz and Sonique doan get no airplay atall atall atall!!

Wait! I know! Maybe the name of the network is less about the race of the featured musicians/artists, and more about the genres of music that are typically associated with Black people.
Hmm, I may have a point here…J-Lo, J-Tim, B-Spar and Em, may all be non-Black but at least they perform typically “black” music, WHEREAS L-Krav, and Niqs sing music typically enjoyed more by White people! Wow, that MUST be it, right??

What a load of crap. I happen to know many Black people, including myself, who have very eclectic tastes in music and would welcome Black musicians of ANY genre, even if only to provide a little variety on BET.
And whassup with the owners/producers of BET being White? I don’t have all the facts on this, but I do know that many of the video producers are white. Doesn’t it seem strange that the ones directing these videos and hence dictating what black hip-hop culture is supposedly about, are white?

I smell a conspiracy.

Invention Appreciation Day!

I’ve decided that every once in a while, I’ll dedicate a segment of my blog to honouring a great invention which has improved the quality of my life.

Today’s invention is The Car!

The car is such an immense convenience and yet it’s virtues often go unsung.

Why, can you imagine if every time I wanted to guh ‘cross by so ‘n’ so, I had to hitch Shaunté de mule up to de cart? It wud tek me 3+ hours to get wuh part I gine! Yeah, it’s a more environmentally-friendly transportation option, but it just about completely rules out goin’ to fetes!

Yes, I find that I too, take for granted, and sometimes even abuse, the privilege of being able to drive a car, and for this I am truly ashamed.

So don’t wait everybody,…hug a car today.

I realise that death does not bother me.
I have completely accepted the fact that we all must die, and that someday I will have to say goodbye to each and every person I know.
When someone passes away, I mourn not because that person has died, but because I'll never get to see them again in this lifetime. Maybe no-one else will understand the difference but that's the way I feel.

Maybe the reason it doesn't bother me is because I don't believe that death is the end. I know our spirits will re-unite with those of the ones we have lost.
I also feel somewhat comforted by the knowledge that those who have passed on, have been relieved of the worries and suffering of this world.

R.I.P. Aunty Betty.

The ball was last night. I think my performance coulda been better...it was just alright in my opinion. *sigh* The few days after a show or a competion are such an anti-climax for me. I'm on a dancing "low" right now. I'm both physically and mentally exhausted form the last two weeks of rehearsal sessions running late into the night. I think I'll go to bed early tonight.
Next on my agenda is the Jahbulani's "Strictly Latin 2004" Competition.
Whoah yeah. Just thinking about it right now makes me tired.

C.O.T.
I'm not deserving of his affection. He deserves someone who can return his feelings, someone who doesn't care what other people think.
Someone who can just let go.

I’m lonely…but I think it’s an insincere emotion (if there is such a thing) on my part, triggered by hearing about someone else’s developing romance. I’m perfectly fine most of the time, and this feeling of loneliness only seems to appear within me when I’m lead to believe that everyone else around me has someone to snuggle with. Suddenly I remember that I’m alone, and that I have been for such a long, long time.
One thing I gotta say though, I’m very good at talking myself outa these moods. Self-pity never solves anything.

C.O.T.

I find I like hip-hop WAY too much for someone who also opposes the objectification of women and the extravagant lifestyle promoted in this genre of music.
I can’t help it! The beat just gets a-hold of me and makes me wanna shake it!


Get ready for the percolatuh,
Dj gonna work the fader
C'mon, drop it like a hot potatuh
Everybody let's percolatuh!----Rah Digga

Y’know, prayer can be just as cleansing as a bar of soap. It comforting to know that I always have someone to talk to, no matter the topic.

C.O.T.
Practice last night was somewhat frustrating…I just can’t seem to keep my balance! The floor WAS slippery, but a good dancer never uses that as an excuse…they just deal with it. We messed up a couple times during the dance and at the end of it, the silence was just as loud as the applause was the night before. I’ll admit, I felt a little humiliated and angry with myself. I know Shane felt the same way too, since his mood changed to sullen and impatient after that. He always wears his heart on his sleeve. *Sigh * Only 4 more rehearsal days before the show too. We’ll need the practice.
And I’m getting nervous about my costume too. Will it be sexy enough? Will it fall JUST the way I want it to? Good thing I have a backup dress. No kick-pants to go with it though, so I better wear decent undies. Heheh!

C.O.T.
Well, I’m off the soup diet, and I’m on to my new and improved (not to mention tastier) eating plan! What I do is eat properly all week long, y’know, lotsa veggies, fruit, fibre, low/no fat/sugar/carbs/salt, then at the end of the week, I allow myself an item from my “Pig-Out Foods” list, so that I don’t have to feel deprived!
This Friday is a spare-rib dinner from TNT. Oh yeaaaaaah, can’t hardly wait.

I was scheduling an appointment into Lotus Organiser, when I took a look at the calender section and right at the bottom it said:

“44 more days”

I panicked!
I mean, I know it’s November 17th, but I never thought of it as
Only 44 More Days Left In The Year 2003!
All I can think about is how time is slipping through my fingers all too quickly! What am I gonna do? All of a sudden I’ve got the urge to find someone and cling to them for dear life! Only 44 more days left! How many people do I have to say “I love you” to? How many old ladies must I help across the road? Should I rush over to the hospital and give blood now, or should I do it tomorrow?
44 Days just isn’t enough time! I need time, I need time, I need time!

Good grief! Why is it that in the nicer clothing stores, the sexy dresses ARE ALL IN SMALL SIZES???
If I was a sensitive soul, my self-esteem would have shot 12 levels lower this morning as I searched in vain for a suitably fabulous formal dress for the ball next week. This is just not good enough!! Are big women not considered worthy of fine apparel?? It’s a friggin’ shame is what it is.
And my search continues.

C.O.T.
My ballroom partner is SO sweet to me! At practice last night, I had a big-time allergy attack (felt like I was gonna lose a vital organ out through my nose!) and I was sneezy and snotty and covered in bits of damp tissue-debris…and he STILL practised with me! He didn’t mind at all he said, as he took my moist, post-sneeze hand. There I was, feeling all self-conscious and gross, and he allayed my anxieties and danced with me. He really made me feel loved and appreciated.
I’m feeling really mushy about now.

C.O.T.
Confession time again! A couple days ago, my dad did some BASHMENT roast pork, and I couldn't resist its tantalising aroma, and I ended up havin' some of it! Yes I cheated! But I don't feel guilty about it cuz

1.) it was protein and not carbohydrate (carbs are the REAL dieting demons) and,
2.) This diet I'm on right now is BARE ish, and I frikkin' DESERVED that pork!

It's Day 6.
It's unbelievable how the minute you can't have something, it becomes your heart's desire.
Last night I dreamt I ate some pancakes, and I woke up in a semi-panic cuz I thought I cheated! My dad said that people on diets become obsessed with food.
I can see his point.

Weekends will be a real challenge for me, since I'll be spending more time inside my house which is also the home of:

1. A shitload of fattening foods and,
2. My father (who thinks fat women should be assassinated) and my brother (who inherited my father's "skinny" genes).

As you can imagine, those components are about as helpful to me as a brick to the head.

C.O.T.
I'm not happy with the song my partner and I decided on, but I had to give in since none of the songs I picked were the right tempo.
Oh well, this'll give me a chance to hone my skills as an actress....y'know, see if I can bring suh'in special to the song.

I feel like huggin' somebody!

Okay, I've emerged from that cocoon of misery in which I was enveloped yesterday.
Ahhh, feels good to sing again!

I've made peace with the fact that I've only lost 2 lbs, I've accepted that my father is a jerk sometimes, and I've even convinced myself not to take THAT guy seriously, since he doesn't know what the hell he's talkin' about 75% of the time.

Plus, it’s FRIDAY! Hell yeah! My partner and I should be rendezvous-ing tonight, to try to pick out a suitable song to perform our rumba to, for an upcoming ball. That should be fun.

C.O.T.
It’s Day 5 of this diet, and I’m still riding high. Haven’t cheated at all, and tha’s an achievement in itself, lemmuh teyya! Today’s Beef /Chicken/Fish with Tomatoes Day.

I’m on to Day 4 of this diet. By now, I shoulda lost 5-7 lb according to the instructions. I have lost 2 lbs.
My soup supply is dwindling so I need to buy more cabbage and tomatoes.
I’m feeling discouraged and downtrodden.

C.O.T.
He did it again. He ALWAYS says the wrong thing to me. Can’t he tell when he’s about to say suh’in stupid or insulting, and just shut the fuck up instead?

C.O.T.
There’s no pleasing people. If you’re a bitch, they complain. If you express joy, or maybe just like to have a pleasant expression on your face, they call you an airhead. Well, if I’m happy, I’m gonna fuckin’ show it. “They” can suck out.

C.O.T.
Last night we performed at the NIFCA Finals. I think we did good too. There’s a chance we’ll make it to the Gala. Yay.

C.O.T.
Do I need my father’s approval for my actions? No. But it would it be nice for him to give me a compliment for once or be proud of something in which I was participating.
Shite.

Y'know...maybe there IS suh'in to be said for foreign men.

Saturday night I got to hang out with 6 foine young men from Trinidad, Colombia, de U.S. , and Jamaica, and I dunno if it was just because they were from somewhere else or what, but I've become quite enthralled with these guys!
I never thought it was possible to develop a crush on a group instead of an individual!

One has exTREMEly kissable lips,
one has sexy teeth (you'd have to see 'em!) and locks,
another has a cool, charismatic personality, and can dance
Another seems admirably dedicated to his passion (football),
the next has the whole Asian thing goin' for 'im (I'm very interested in learning more about Asian men *grin*)
and de last one is just an all-round attractive guy, with deep dark eyes.

And of course, all had such different accents. It was a nice change of scene.

Thank you Lani, for my night out with the men!


C.O.T.
Today is Day 1 of this Fat-Burning 7-Day diet I’m on. My sustenance for the next 7 days will mostly be from this cabbage and tomato soup I made this morning.
I had it for breakfast and it wasn’t so bad, but I just finished a thermos full of the stuff for lunch and I dunno how I’m gonna make it through the week.
*Sigh* Right now I’m feeling so very, very, low.

Ahhh, today I have taken an important step in my journey to truly knowing Me. I just love these little revelations of self discovery! I rewarded myself by tryin' out a sub from Mamma Mia's.
Italian sausage with mozarella and sun-dried tomatoes. Bellisimo!

C.O.T.
You! Scandal and conflict is EVERYWHERE! Just when you think everything is smooth and glossy, you realise that's ONLY because you haven't been payin' attention!

And, as usual, this undercurrent has absolutely nothing to do with me, so I'm free to just amuse myself by observing the disguised drama.
See, I have a sneaking suspicion that she's cosying up to my ballroom partner for a reason...she wants to steal him away. I say let her cosy all she wants...he ain't goin' nowhere. Of that, I am sure.
This'll be fun!

This blog is dedicated to that blockhead who COULDA had me years ago when I was younger and quite frankly, dumber.

You idiot! I was like a puppy back then! I woulda followed you anywhere and given you anything...well maybe not anything, but most of what you asked for, all to try to make you care about me!
And I was so stupid! I actually thought you DID care! I ignored the fact that you never called me and that you used me as your personal taxi service. And when I finally realised what a lowlife you were, you wouldn't even face me like a man! You avoided me like the plague! You frickin' RAN from me, you chickenshit!

And years later, you come waltzing back on to the scene (w'happen, she realise you ain' sayin' nuttin?) wanting forgiveness and yes, I forgave you when I really shoulda spit in your face! But to try to re-kindle that one-sided romance?? Please! I laugh at you now!

In the words of Gwen Stefani :
You want me badly...but you cannot have me!

It seems like all the men in my life are suffering from a case of extreme misery.

My grandfather…well, he’s your classic grouchy old man who never goes anywhere, so the only way he can make conversation is by complaining about any and everything, from his electricity bill to his coffee table which he found displaced 2 inches to the left of it’s normal position.

My father…he’s quickly turning into a grouchy old man himself. It shows especially when he’s trying to mold me into “Good Little Wife” material by coercing me to cook. Incidentally, I did some stewed chicken last night with no prompting from him, and um did taste REAL gud yuh! See? When I cook of my own free will, THA'S when you can taste the love in the food. :)

My brother…I dunno wha’s wrong with him, but he like he feel he’s my fadda. Playin’ he hollarin’ out my name and quarrellin’ wid me over stupidness. Sometimes I wish he’d spend more time asleep just so I can get some peace.

My ballroom partner…never before have I met a fella with such sudden mood swings. One minute he’s cool and kixy…the next he’s silent and sullen, and if I try to cheer him up he looks at me wid an expression that says “Why is this piece of human excrement talking to me?”

Or is it just me? Seems like I’m a common facter in their lives…could I be the one makin’ these men miserable?
Man, I doubt it! I think they all just need a good dose of anti-depressants!

Useless Information

N - my favourite letter
32 - no. of moles on my body.
Red - colour of lipstick I put on this morning (gives me a kind of power rush).
Anything But Ordinary - song by Avril Lavigne, that's been stuck in my head all day.

Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh myself to sleep
It's my lullaby
Sometimes I drive so fast
Just to feel the danger
I wanna scream
It makes me feel alive

Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please

To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that I
Have been to the extreme
So knock me off my feet
Come on now give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive

Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please.

Let down your defences
Use no common sense
If you look you will see
that this world is a beautiful
accident turbulent succulent
opulent permanent, no way
I wanna taste it
Don't wanna waste it away

Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh my self to sleep
It's my lullaby

Is it enough?
Is it enough?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please

Is it enough?
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please.