I've heard it time and time again, but now it's my turn to say it!

Kids these days have NO manners!

Imagine my surprise when my pleasant mango-picking afternoon in my Grandfather's backyard was interrupted by hushed young voices, followed by a *WHUMP* as one little rascal landed on the grass after jumping down from OUR wall!

"Excuse me!" I said, and he froze. Obviously he and his cronies were after the mangoes. I couldn't fault them for that of course, but I let them know that in the future they need to come to the door and ask permission like respectable young boys, instead of scrambling over the wall like thieves.

And after all that, they didn't apologise for their intrusion, they didn't say "Thank you!" for the mangoes, they didn't even say "Good afternoon" for heaven's sakes! And they referred to me as "de woman" as if I wasn't standing right in their presence, eg. "Gih de woman some mangoes!" and "Man, de woman say I cuh pick some!"

Apalling. Is this how we're raising our children??? Manners go a loooong way.

C.O.T.

I don't care who calls me stiff or prudish. I do NOT consider "Y'know, you have nice bubbies" to be the charming compliment that the author swears it is.
Have a little respect.

Thank heavens my voice is nearly back to normal.
How it pained me to have to sit silently whenever the urge to burst into song bubbled up inside me.

C.O.T.

Mango season is back again!!! My very skin shall assume a fiery mango-esque glow as I feast on their sweet, succelent flesh...the juice dripping down my chin, as I lick it from my fingers, not daring to waste a drop; as hungry as she who has been yearning for a mango for so very, very long......ok, I'll stop now.

Guess what I'm eating tonight.


Forgive me. I received a book of erotic literature for my birthday, and I find that its influence is showing in unrelated parts of my life.

Good...lord...it's so hot right now, I can barely think straight.

This morning, I found myself waiting in the car while the driver nipped out to run an errand. Needless to say I was positively steaming.
It's a sad situation when you're agonising over whether to throw modesty out the window, and hike up your skirt to cool your thighs, or retain your businesslike appearance and boil yourself alive in your own sweat.

Waiting in a hot car is now officially my personal version of hell.

I have lost my voice and right now I'm barely able to speak above a croaky whisper. In the first stages it sounded kinda sexy, but now it's just scary. Answering the phone is out of the question because it will offset our cliets.
To be honest, given the mood I'm in, I'm kind of enjoying having an excuse not to speak. Makes you realise just how much of one's breath is wasted uttering nonsense.

C.O.T.


You know what...it MUST be me...I must be the one doin' something wrong here!
I really feel like hitting somebody's son in the head with a shoe! How is it that I seem to only be attracted to clueless men?
Another one bites the dust.
Back to the frustratingly familiar drawing board.

Everyone has that experience where one first encounters something , doesn't quite like it, but then after a while gets accustomed to it, and even starts to like it.
Well, I never thought that would apply to hugs.

I've recently been introduced to a certain type of hug, that has grown on me in BIG way.
(First person to guess who's behind this one, gets a stick of gum.)

I call it the "Me, man...you, woman!" Hug
It's a one-handed hug where the guy slides his hand around the girl's waist and pulls her body abruptly to his torso with a slight bump, knocking the breath out of her momentarily. It's kind of primal...like how Tarzan might hug Jane.

Try it today!

In my old age I've been doing quite a bit of reminiscing on the good ol' days at secondary school, and I recall with much fondness the "mandatory" P.E. periods.

I absolutely loved the opportunity to exchange my restrictive, uncomfortable uniform tunic, for the cute green shorts and white t-shirt that made up our P.E. uniform. And sneakers were always MILES ahead of regular school shoes in comfort.

It was always beyond me, why so many girls would almost refuse to participate in P.E. sessions, and would make up excuse after excuse to get out of it.

How could they NOT want to slip into something more comfortable, and work off all that extra teenage energy that tends to build up?

I was never much good at sports and athletics, but it was always hilarious to watch the even less physically-coordinated girls trip over the track hurdles, or duck an oncoming tennis ball! And I too, got kixed at.
My only regret was that for some reason you were discouraged from wearing your P.E. duds to regular class...something about it being distracting. Phooey, I say.

They just wanted to keep the kids hot and uncomfortable.

My Birthday Experience:

The whole day was neither here nor there by birthday standards, so by the time darkness fell, I KNEW I had to take matters into my own hands!

I called up the Lanster, and we agreed to meet at Cafe Jungles, for "Coyote Ugly Saturdays".

I strolled into the joint only to be greeted by the bar dancers doin' a hot choreography on and around the bar.
"Wow" I thought "this is my kinda place!" Just then, the MC announced that they needed people to compete in a bar-top dancing competition for a $50 bar tab. I wasn't gonna go up, I swear, but then a bar dancer grabbed my arm and pulled me along.
So there I was, dancing on the bar within 5 minutes of walking in the door. That's gotta be a record.
Unfortunately I didn't win the bar tab, but I'm sure the only reason that guy beat me was becuase he wukked up on the fake tree in the corner of the bar.
I don't use props.

At one point, about 6 guys were up there, shakin' it for the ladies, and you KNOW that made my birthday!

And to end the night on a good note, I got hit on by a British flight attendant named Alex. I didn't even see it coming cuz the first thing he said to me was "I like your swing...can I try it?"...which wouldn't have made sense if I wasn't sitting in the Cafe Jungle swing chair. Believe it or not, for about 5 seconds, I actually thought he was trying to steal my seat. Then I realised he was more interested in my OTHER "seat". *wink*

Slight C.O.T.

I always feel like I'm being watched whenever I dance with white tourist guys. Like if people are shaking their heads and thinking "wha de ass she doin' dancing up on he fuh?"
Maybe I'm imagining things...maybe I'm projecting, since that may be what's in my own subconcious when I see other black Bajan girls doing it.

Not good.

No complaints about the new partner yet. He's way stronger than he looks; gotta give props where props are due. Even though we squabble like cats and dogs from time to time, we can still be cool afterwards.
The other day someone asked how the partnership is going and he announced to the whole room that "She never agrees with anything I say!"

Before I realised what I was saying, I blurted out "That's not true!!!" I clapped my hand over my mouth as soon as it came out, but it was too late, I was nearly killed with the cackles that ensued.

Could it be that I AM disagreeable? Do I sometimes argue JUST for the sake of arguing? I'll look into this.



C.O.T.

Saturday's my 25th birthday and I have no clue how I'm gonna celebrate. I don't even know if I'll have the time.
Hmm...I wonder if I can con The Plaited Macker into giving me a big ol' birthday smooch...he's a devout Christian so I dunno if he'll fall for any of my "heathen-temptress" charms.
Mwah-ha-ha-ha-haaaa! I kill me!

To be continued...

The other day, I saw the security guard in a mall stomp on a defenceless lizard and kick it outside while it was still alive and wriggling in agony. It shocked me to see such cruelty towards such a harmless creature. The poor thing was just lost and hungry, I'm sure.

C.O.T.

I've made another observation on the differences between the sexes. I've noticed that men and women will go out to a party, and somehow the men seem more prone to strike up a heated, and even aggressive, discussion on serious topics like religion, politics,or business...in de middle of the fete!!

Now, I'm not crying down the guys for this, because I figure, hell, they must enjoy this...all that testosterone raging around HAS to have some kinda release, so I won't be TOO offended when they ignore us girls to go have their table-slamming, finger-pointing, "talks"...

What I DO have a problem with, is if someone were to tell me that I should be joining in on the discussion! I won't tell anybody how to enjoy themselves in a party, and I'd appreciate the same courtesy.

All de talk, de men were gettin' so riled up, I thought dat SOMEbody was gun get knocked ta fuggout! lol

My lord...The Plaited Macker has certainly proved that he can make me squirm, AND that he thoroughly enjoys it.

I ran into to him and another friend of mine in Sheraton yesterday by a gaming kiosk and, after the initial greetings, he proceeded to tell me (and everyone within earshot) all about his most intimate and sensual dance experience which, incidentally, was when I practiced the Swing straddle-dip move with him.

"When you mounted me, " he said "it's not just that we were so physically close, but it's that you were so wet! "

I absolutely screamed on the inside, and my eyes must have turned into saucers!
I can't believe he said that in front of my friend, the guy working at the kiosk, and whoever else was passing! And this guy doesn't say these things quietly!

The girl giggled and the kiosk guy smiled in amusement, but he just kept on going! My face started feeling really hot, and I couldn't stop shifting from foot to foot.

Apparently, he finds sweat sexy. I guess that's a good thing since I tend to perspire a lot when I exert myself.

Dammit, it's not what he said, it's where and when he said it that caught me completely offgaurd.
That's the last time I give him the satisfaction of seeing me become so visibly uncomfortable.

From now on, I'm a rock.

If anyone reading my blog takes offense to anything I may have written, or WILL write in the future, please, feel free to come directly to me for a discussion.

There's no need to tell tales out of school, start rumours, or send messages to me via third parties.

I can stand by every word I have written.

Do you belive in fate and that things aren't just random?
Is is possible that the universe, or maybe some higher power, brings certain people into your life for a reason?
I've gotta pay attention to these little signs...see where it leads me. It could be the start of a whole new adventure.

C.O.T.

It's funny how much more approachable one becomes when one is accompanied by a dog, at the beach! Members of both sexes will come up to you and smile and chat and pet your pooch (haha, I HAD to say that!) like they've been friends with you all their lives.
I gotta say, even though it opens the gate for a bunch of wierdos to step to you, I kinda like the friendliness that dogs induce.

I've been switched, and I have a different dance partner now! This could get confusing! I forsee us fighting like cats and dogs, yet still mashin' up de place!

C.O.T.

I...I think I'm now a tv show host! This is all happening so fast.

C.O.T.

What happened to my National Heroes Day? It's a crying shame when an organization
1.)doesn't pay you for a performance (which ain't that bad),
2.)takes over your whole holiday (which still ain't that bad), but then
3.)doesn't put out enuff fishcakes and cheese sandwiches for the performers to thank 'em or their time and effort.
I had one room-temperature, half-baked somosa.

Shame on them.

I have a small personal triumph to report:

Last night I called up the Plaited Macker and asked if he'd like to go get a Cafe Blue sandwich (those things are absolutely scrum-diddly-umptious) with me.

I know, it's not like I brought peace to the Middle East, but one step at a time, dammit.

Asking guys out is always nerve-wracking for me, and I was so proud of myself that I actually DID it, that it didn't bother me one bit that he couldn't come!

You go girl!

Suddenly, I feel like 15 yrs. old again.

I would like to take this opportunity to proclaim my newfound love for....
seamoss!

Yes, until two nights ago I thought it was a slimy, funny-looking "country"-type concoction. I mean, who in their right mind would wanna drink seamoss, I thought.

So then I happened upon a bottle of the stuff in our fridge. My Dad had bought it from "some man in a van". The thing wasn't labelled or anything. It could've contained LSD for all we know.
Anyway, I decided that here was the perfect opportunity to "try it before I knocked it". I was, after all, at home with readily available bathroom facilities, should the need to use them arise.

So I took a deep breath, and a medium-sized drag on the bottle. I tasted milk (hooray, I love dairy), sugar, cinnamon or some kinda spice, and if I'm not mistaken, some kinda alcohol. It was actualy quite yummy!

Unidentifiable brown particles and all!

Is this s'posed to be an aphrodesiac or something?

Highlight of My Week So Far

Last night at the beginner's class, the Plaited Macker insisted that I teach him that swing move where the lady jump/straddles the man, he bends over, her legs go up past his head, then he brings her up and lifts her off.

After a few times of him not understanding that he has to move with me, and hence getting hit in the face with Bettina (that's right, Bettina!), he seemed to kinda get the hang of it, and then lifted me friggin' well over his head!

I thought I was gonna taste floorboards at one point, and up to now I'm not sure if I screamed or held it in.

That experience merits 4 outa 5 "Yee-ha's"!

C.O.T.

I can't understand why anybody would want to drink vegetable juice.

This weekend I had a personal breakthrough.

In a group of people, I found myself the sole rebel who opposed to a certain idea. I voiced my opinion, and argued my points. Even though no one agreed with me, I stuck to my principles and I'm so proud of myself.

C.O.T.

I hate when older relatives keep asking me how my love life is, and every single time I say I'm not seeing anyone, they go "No? Oh dear.", and proceed to give me extensive details on my cousin's current romantic interest.
Sigh, from now on I'm just gonna say that I have no time for men.

C.O.T.

I don't see how one can just agree with every point-of-view, idea or plan that's put across to them. I mean, after a while, it starts to seem as if one has no opinions of their own. Once in a while it'd be nice to hear some opposition, a complaint, something to show that there's a passionate, human brain in there.

Yet another edition of Ms. Kukamunga's imaginary blog:

I can't believe it...I actually let Diego convince me to move in with him. I hope he understands that it's strictly a professional arrangement. I swear, if I had anywhere else to go, I'd be outa here in a flash, but this is one sweet rental deal I got goin' on here: only $200 a month, plus he pays for all the groceries!
The only catch is that I have to take care of ALL the grocery shopping. For some reason this guy can't stand supermarkets, minimarts, outdoor markets, or anything of the type. Thinks they're dirty or something.
Wierd.

It's just that he can be so darn persuasive, what with that mesmerizing Castillian accent and all.

I only hope he's not too loud when he entertains those trashy bimbos everyone's always telling me he hangs around with. He has to respect that this is MY home now too, dammit!

And another thing! He NEEDS to close the door when he's in the shower! Damn exhibitionist Spaniards!
Just because one works out, and does a little modelling doesn't mean one has to flash one's stuff around willy nilly like that! No pun intended.

Why, if I wasn't a decent, modest, young lady that player would have to give me a wide berth around this place, or his sculpted rear would be well-pinched!

Good gracious, he's absolutely shameless.

Well, the show's over! And despite a low audience turn-out, the dancers were great.
Of course we all made a couple mistakes, but generally it was a good 'do!
Even the young, poor-postured undercover flirt, represented last night!

C.O.T.
I had hoped to be able to go to the drive-in tonight to catch Hitch and Be Cool, but sadly, transP issues won't allow for that. Rats. And it's probably my only night off before they change the film scedule.
*melancholy expression, complete with downward cast eyes*

Well, the show is tonight.

The show that we've been busting our asses,* with midnight practice sessions every single night for the last two weeks.
* Almost literally for one girl in particular who gets tossed through the air by two strapping men into the ready arms of her short, yet deceptively strong partner.

The show which could really use another week to smooth out the many kinks.

The show which is the first of many fundraisers we'll be needing to be help us on our way to compete in Blackpool.

The dress rehearsal was last night, and my gosh, the whole thing seemed like one big hassle:

*Not enough time between many of the dance sets...
*The salsa costumes don't fit well...
*The line dance team shows NO enthusiasm...
*George Street Auditorium is a lawsuit waiting to happen...

But, the show MUST go on, and we'll go out there and mash up de place!!