Work

Why work? I don’t know why? For some people it is because it defines them, gives them a sense of purpose. I know without it,  we would have an enormous amount of time to spend with those we love:  what if we discover their flaws? .

Work enables us pay bills and become responsible adults (whatever that means). Does work matter ?  should the type of work you do matter?

why work though ? i know it maybe easier for me to con some pot-bellied businessman to take care of me for the rest of my life (lol, those who know me well will laugh while others may say, ” How can a feminist think this? ” ) I wont go into how a housewife can be a feminist: blablabla but it is a conversation for some other time.

If money weren’t a factor what would you do for a living? Most people I ask say writer, artist, musician, and producer etc.. They speak of the arts and for the non-dreamers say they just need work in a structured organization. All work is work. This has taken some time for me to understand. How is a doctor not more important than a gateman?

Imagine getting home and having to open the gate? (Not a nightmare right?) What if it was raining cat and dogs? (It would be nice to have someone open the gate right?).

Lets not neglect the house helps, oh my favourite the handyman who provide a service that most husbands and boyfriends no longer need to do to prove they are the man of the house (I have a handyman that does all my electrical stuff and plumbing and he is always available, I like that he solves these little things for me, so when I date a man I am not worried if he knows how to change a light bulb).

That is why the twitter food debate makes me laugh; if only cooking and cleaning made women suitable wives, i know for a fact that I wont have any single friends. There is always something else which is more important than chores or food  but on social media we can go on and on about stuff . Maybe I will tweet later today (a man who can’t install a ceiling fan is that a man?) (Just for laughs, evil grin emoji).

Summary #Allworkmatters, even if it’s not a job you like.

Why do you work? That’s a deep question? A question I hope this post makes you ask yourself.

 

Why : sHOES?

Shoes are everything, yes I am not Carrie Bradshaw , but every “sex and the city ” fan knows that without the shoes that movie was just about four women trying to find love in New York.

Flat shoes are very comfortable, round or pointed. Gloss or suede they do the job. It is sister Mary. She’s the catholic girl next door. She’s good but you don’t approach her if you don’t want anything serious.

Boots, these require a certain level of attention, for there are those who buy boots just for winter. There are others who know a well-worn boots under a dress or wrapped around the perfect pair of jeans can make men stare for days.

Strappy sandals, every girl’s best friend she is available for casual Saturdays under the summer dress and she’s available to go for weddings with you. She is your main girl. Lets not forget how she makes you look fragile yet classy for all your important dates.

High heeled Shoes:  Red, pink, blue, bursting summer yellow, grey or gold. There’s an extra to you as a lady once you put on heels. It doesn’t let you slouch or look like you didn’t make an effort. She makes you sexy, she is the mother hen of shoes: peep toes, wedges, and pointy shoes. She is your mum; she commands respect. She grooms you for work, for business casual, for that conference, for church and for life.

So why shoes? I say why not.

Untoward Proclivity

He haunts my dreams, as I roll in the sheets,

This Magnum Man, dark chocolate inside and light caramel outside,

Tough and mush, he melts me every time we lock eyes,

I crave immortality to have power to spend indefinite lives with you,

All Man yet his eyes are so kind, my kind,

He conflicts me, He clicks with me,

Troubles me, fires me,

Drives me to the borders of insanity when I’m away from him,

When he’s with me time stands still,

He’s my pseudo persona,

The male me,

Such a Diva yet brave, determined, focused, tough and ambitious,

An artist constantly making things beautiful,

He makes me all woman,

What was life before him?

Without him I feel bereaved, a widow of his love,

With a single stroke of my hair,

He unnerves me,

This Is Voodoo,

Some black Magic,

He’s a bad man, bad man,

I can’t tell his good side from his bad side,

I am like waffles in his arms, spread chocolate all over me baby, eat me !!

I need this,

The cleanse can’t cleanse you,

Yoga can’t fix this addiction,

Baby, give me one more shot of you,

I crave toxic, I crave you,

lets do this

Reality can wait, let’s do this!!!!

Daniel Thompson

I accidentally ran into an ex recently, Daniel Thompson, 36 , Brown eyes , Bulky build, and he wore his ring like handcuffs . He looked downtrodden. Perhaps, that’s how I choose to see him. We exchanged pleasantries and not long after. He asked me “Still single right? “. He had this sadness to his eyes; it wasn’t the judgmental stare that my married female friends give me when the see me at the mall on Saturday with my shorts and tank top. He looked genuinely worried, we dated a while back but it never got to the point where I could say I do or he would drop on one knee and ask the question. We had a kind of love but we kept our lives separate and never overindulged in each other’s affairs, no jealous squabbles (A very mature relationship some would say) of course, I found it boring that, he would never throw me on the bed and kiss me till I run out of breath. I found it annoying that he could never lose his calm when I was stubborn for no good reason. It felt like a business transaction to me and I promised me long ago if it’s not a fiery all-consuming love I would never marry. (We all know why, I am still single now). He grabbed my hand and I followed him, I said good-bye to my shopping cart and looked forward to tea and salad.
After, the red-haired waitress took our order after grilling us over and over about mayonnaise. He began to tell his story ” Evelyn and I dated shortly after I met you, she is a doctor (he looks to me as though I should know this so I nod) and her deposition when we were dating was one full of care and nurturing (he lowered his eyes again, he had complained that I wasn’t caring because I didn’t make a fuss every time he told me about his hypochondriac symptoms). We dated 2 years and got married. She was a virgin ( I smile, interesting) . After the honeymoon she got pregnant and we had our daughter Shelia. She quit work and decided to be a stay at home mum and I agreed because I loved her (yea, right). After giving birth to Shelia, she moved to the baby room and eats, sleeps breathes the baby. (Where is he going with this?) .I get a nanny Matilda to assist Shelia with the chores so we can bond and now she factors Matilda into everything. I got home from work earlier today and found them in bed together so I stormed off and ended up here. What do you think I should do Clara?”(I try to speak but I say nothing& thank God I am single, at times like this no attachment looks good, while preparing me to give advice that I am not qualified to give).

My Forever

Dear My Forever,

 

How was your day ? A nightmare ? I hope not. Work was fine but thoughts of you crossed my mind . Le Lover , Boo , its taking forever for us to be together and since my first letter to you several experiments have happened. I seem to find bits of you in different men but not all of you. I was with Sammy the other day and I kept thinking how perfect it would be if the both of you knew each other and we could all be friends. I love you and I have since I created the idea of you my love.

I have written poems for you , dreamed of birthing a son and daughter for you. Raising a family with you but you remain in my dreams and are constantly hiding from my reality. Are you ashamed of me ? I’m I not good enough for you ? Are you chasing your own fairytale as I have chased you for years? Do you love me?

I wait for you when I line up at the bank to pay my bills, I look for you when the traffic lights turn red. At the pub the other day I kept starring at the entrance waiting for you to walk into my life. Baby, for real why do you walk so slow?  I stole a hug from Brian he feels warm and comfortable and he makes me laugh with his funny impressions. Are you Brian?

Baby, talk to me , I am tired of waiting for my love life to start . I am bored of kissing frogs to find my prince, I want to wake up next to you every morning and kiss you good night everyday. I want to make love to you with every ounce of my body and love you as though today is my last . Please let me love you. Please come home to me , send me a ping, an email or a text or pick up the phone and say hello.

I love you and I am waiting for our future to begin

 

Love always,

Love

Miles

Sitting at her desk, As a sales  person sitting isn’t really a big part of her job but she had to sit as she thought of him.  Miles with his perfect caramel skin, broad shoulders, his perfectly chiseled facial bones , his lips that seemed like they could ignite fire if they touched any part of her body, the innocence that radiates from his eyes when he smiles , she gasped  and let out a  soft mmmh from her soft lips as they parted.  smiled . She Wants and when Laura Andrew wants she usually gets .( a tiny voice in her head said not this time, she brushed it off).

Work has been a nightmare recently , she woke up to work & slept to the thoughts of work .  she hadn’t had drinks for weeks now and her legs were a mess . she hadn’t shaved in weeks . wow!!!  no wonder he blew me off ( she thought about miles a lot )  He hadn’t called after their surprised meet. she needed moral support and decided to call sally to her rescue.

Sally heard the vibrations on her desk but she could reach for the phone in this position. Her back was arched against her desk, her pencil skirt almost invisible and brain was having her for breakfast . Ahhh , she said but the phone wont stop ringing, she looked down at brain and said” darl, would you be a dear and pass me the phone?” he looked dazzled, “really now? ” he said and she smiled . As he passed her the phone he started to adjust his shirt  in a manner that said I have some dignity left  but in true sally fashion she said “rain check? ” and answered the phone.

“Hey you, sup? I was in the middle of my lunch break , this had better be important girl..” sally said. As Laura began the tale of Miles she listened to her friend and fiddled  with her pencil skirt , damn I may be adding weight .

Laura  had grown up in a middle class family , with a father who doted on her and her sister and cheated on her mother every second he had. she was raised as a good catholic girl and every now and again rewarded for

Laura Andrews

 

As Laura Andrews wore her favourite pink heels out of her apartment she knew today would be the day men prayed to God for a miracle. She strutted them like a pro off the runway. Her date was with her newest broker Mr. Miles Mufasa, He is of south African descent but born and raised in England , so you could taste his accent when he smiled . His perfume was delicate yet masculine a perfect british lay . Her Phone a samsung galaxy S3 rang and she danced a little to the tune with her shoulders swaying from right to left ( of course it was the beyonce’s song “who runs the world? ” girls song) . Immediately she heard his voice her inside resolve started to melt away , she wanted this man to touch her core .There was something in his voice pulling her towards him .she didn’t realize that he was cancelling their date till he said ” rain check darling”. who does that ? get a girl hot & bothered and cancel because you have a blablabla… meeting with your bosses friend. she sighed ,these heels can’t go to waste. she started scrolling through her whatsapp for the next available cutie. she let out a subtle chuckle at the name Leman Banks. They had met at a mall a few weeks ago and had coffee but she didn’t see potentials with a man who cared more about his looks than her but she was a beggar at this point so she can’t choose, so he would do for tonight. she sent him a blushing smiley and after the pleasantries : she told him that she was up & about and wanted to do dinner at his .. Did he mind? of course he said HELL nO.. (who are we kidding?) she rang alicia and told her not to wait up, and headed towards Vain Leman . As she rung the bell , she began to doubt her actions, was this rushed , too impulsive and then decided whatever we only live once. As Leman opened the door he looked as usual : smart casual sexy , smelled like bvlgari man extreme, she gave him a side hug and a peck on the cheek. She showed herself to the sitting area and there was Miles …………. To be Continued…..

Fidelity

How do I define fidelity? What is faithfulness in love? In marriage? In relationships. Do our hearts constantly betray us to obey where our bodies long to go? Do we make excuses for our bodies betrayal? What is faithfulness?

A friend called it a lack of opportunity to be unfaithful.  I smiled.

Is faithfulness when I give my heart and commit my body to you?  Is faithfulness not betraying you by giving strange looks to the cute guy checking me out at lunch? 

Is faithfulness not giving into the temptations, even though you are miles away?

Why doesn’t the love I feel chase the loneliness away? Why doesn’t it take away the heat & the hunger? Why do I crave for you more? 

Is faithfulness reaching out to you in any way, with any medium or I’m I too blind to see that I am not a woman in love? But one so full of lust that I have converted it to love?  The books portray love with no shades of grey; the thoughts of another should make my skin fall off. Do I cringe at the thought of you with someone else???? I only wonder if it can even be (I am truly blinded in love) 

Why do I need you? Why I’m I here struggling so hard to define a word that needs no definition.

We cheat when we pour our hearts to strangers we barely know, we cheat when we linger on in a hug, we cheat when we reminisce previous lives with our ex. We cheat when we fantasize of the crazy, sex and weird neighbour we always talk about. Yet we limit fidelity to crimes we commit with our bodies, the touching of our lips and caressing of arms.

Is love really exclusive because as far as I know for a while it is but love constantly evolves that’s why I am glad that as of today I am still in the truly, madly, deeply phase.

 

 

FB couples

I stare at FB pictures and I see the couples looking picture perfect. The fathers look extremely excited by carrying their newborns, the wives look proud and loving at their accomplishment. I wonder if I would ever look like them (the perfect couples)

I have taken sappy photos with the Lover at some point (those pictures with your faces pressed against each other and I looked a million miles away from reality, I looked happy)

The lover and I have reached those unwritten finished lines, fundamental differences, the honeymoon phase is long gone, the reality phase, memories away .All I see now are the differences and why we can’t be together forever. Today, The Facebook pictures remind me how conflicting my choices are from my needs and wants.

Why haven’t I ever picked the easy guy? The one with whom I foresee no possible drama? (The sure thing in relationships, we all know this)

Do I love in small doses? Thrive on complexity and enjoy singleness and pretend to want forever. Or have I been dealt poor cards in this game of love?

I don’t know and please don’t tell me because I want to wake up everyday with endless possibilities and answering this question will ruin the surprise.

MAN ( a dying race…)

First of all, this post is meant to incite a reaction in the reader irrespective of the gender and if it doesn’t I as a student of life have failed on the task.

A man in the context of this post is not defined by the possession of a male reproductive organ or a woman as one with the ability to produce children. Who is a Man? What qualifies one to be called a man?

In children books and fairy tales a Man is a hero, the one who saves the damsel in distress (Cinderella, Rapunzel etc.).

In comics like superman, batman and my recent favourite “V”: a super hero is a citizen who is ordinary yet willing to do the unthinkable to create a future where everyone is rid of corruption and dishonesty.

In the Movie 300, a boy is trained on how to become a man, he is put through tests and at last he becomes a man like his father and those before him. He is trained to defend and survive.

In the past, men were defined by their craft: swordsman, blacksmith, farmer, trader, teacher, postman, worker (civil servant), a medicine man, a preacher etc.  When a man came to ask for a woman’s hand he explained his craft and how he could provide for her and how she could assist him.

Pause, this isn’t limited to money, I am talking about self worth, pride, integrity and a future. There used to be a distinction from being a boy or an adult with a male reproductive organ.

I was at boots the other day; the sales assistant was a father. His wife and kids were in store shopping & I knew this because the boy walked up to him and said “ dad I want to grow up and work here like you” and his father said “no”. The son had a puzzled look and said “why?” and the father said, “Because I wont let you”.

I know the economic situation is not favourable and people are getting retrenched daily and getting a job even with a degree is hard but is that enough reason to no longer aspire to be a man? Martin Luther king and others strived in challenges to be the men they knew they should be. Even 2pac a street thug hustled to be his own man no matter how he went about it, no one dead or alive can call him anything less.

Is laziness fashionable in the 21^st century, or is it because of the unbalanced ratio of females to male that women are accepting males with male reproductive organs as men instead of waiting for a real man?

Or is it as a result that a man is a rare gem in this century and anyone who has him? Will have to fight off other women?

Lets blame the equality movements (no we cant). The women have improved but the men not so much!!!!

The most shameful, the able bodied with the male reproductive organ. I see them frequently at the city centres with their owners. What’s not obvious to the undiscerning is their invisible dog collar and chain. They follow these women everywhere and can’t leave their sight without a tracker (their mobile phones).

No wonder you don’t get dinners made for you, you are a loyal companion if you stray she will buy another dog.

A woman is a helper created to assist.  She is a queen who supports her king. Why are you making her lead? Why are you not a king?

The 21^st century person with the male reproductive organ has given up on the high standards for himself, but his expectation of his female counterpart has evolved from that of the average man.

He requires a female with a minimum college degree, a job, to be well groomed, soft-spoken, and decent, a goddess in the sheets and a homemaker. His expectations has increased than that of his ancestors he requires her perfect without emotional baggage too (very funny indeed).

The 21st century female in the bid to become perfect has gradually started to loose her femininity and is becoming a man.

This Emotionally challenged and somewhat confused person with the male reproductive organ is like a fashion accessory (almost every female has one) , how does he differ from the toys sold in shops?

The toys require batteries: he requires food

Toys require casing& cleaning:  he requires shelter and pampering

Toys require participation; he require manuals on how to please (yes, judge me!)

The movie “the bounty hunter”: Milo Boyd is damaged by his wife’s leaving him that he is deep in debts and all sorts, till he gets her back, I weep).

Is this the evolution of men we admired as little girls?

Where is the masculine pride?

What the hell is wrong with waking up at 5am and hustling? Is it a dying trend?