Some scars take their time to fade...



In happier times-when turning the door handle lead to adventure

 Up until a few weeks ago I was your regular Pta citizen. I relished the long walks through Arcadia on my way to school, I enjoyed seeing its colourful  people as they went on their merry way trying to make a living from their inventive sweet stalls and chicken dust stands, I loved walking past the park on Park Street with its homeless people who read newspapers and the drug dealers that blend in so well with the rest of society but mostly I loved being a citizen of Arcadia because it was the safest I had felt in a long time after my incidents in Sunnyside. Then I got mugged. My whole esteem is so unsure of itself right now. I went out for the first time by myself yesterday to catch the school bus and I thought I would have a mild heart attack! Everyone, according to me, looked like they wanted to attack me, every street corner suddenly looked too dark and dodgy and even the park looked threatening, yes with its swings and all. I love to joke about my mugging experience to friends and family in hopes that the shame and fear will leave me soon but the truth is I am terrified to go anywhere by myself, just the mere thought of getting out the door to face a possible attack grips at my heart with such intensity that I need to collect myself before going out. Half the time I just want to break out into tears and I now obsess about that Sunday I got mugged, could I have done something different to protect myself? I knew I was not over the incident when I went to dance practice on the 18^th June. Practice had been cancelled but I had not gotten the memo because I had forgotten my other phone at the flat. As I approached the venue I saw no cars and immediately I want half crazy, I was not safe and that dirty guy calling out to me was not making me feel better. I hid in a store just to calm my nerves and after much deliberation I went back to the flat. Today again I have to call on every superhuman power I posses because I have an important errand to run and hope my armpits do not fail me as I sweat when I feel threatened or nervous. My boyfriend says that there a certain things that only happen to certain people like his friend who got kidnapped for no reason, was beaten up in the car and then dropped off...I hope getting mugged is not the thing that happens to me.

Where did it all go wrong...?

The greatest moments are the unexpected ones

I truly think planning for anything is a recipe for disaster. Look at me and my good friend Zola. We had planned that last weekend was going to be an all girls party weekend with mini adventures along the way, we planned on this weekend being one filled with late nights at the clubs and alcohol in our systems but our expectations were soon shattered by reality,  ladies and gentle people. Friday night: That must have been the most fun we had this weekend, we went to dance practice, we had a mini road trip to Zo’s boyfriends house where three taxis left us on our way to Zo’s flat, had a lovers’ quarrel with Zo and we watched television with KFC in our mouths and sleep in our eyes. Saturday was meant to be THE day my people. The day of dressing up and eating foot (go ja loto), the day I would rid Zo of her fear for eye make-up and the day I would, for the first time experiment with eye shadow BUT this is what happened: I went to the mall and died over things I could not afford so I got some nail polish and eye shadow instead, Zo and I took a road trip to Silverliakes to pick up a friend and I got motion sickness on the way to and from our destination and of course the fact that our KFC evening totally obliterated our finances meant that Saturday night was going to be a night in with a bottle of wine at least. This is not the first time this planning strategy of mine has not worked, in fact, if I my memory serves me correctly planning only works in the academic sense. You want to be rich, you plan, you want to get an A on that exam, you plan and if you want to be leave your mark on the world, you plan. I believe now that happiness is something you cannot plan, all the little things life has to offer that put a spring in your step you simply stumble upon. You cannot plan to have a great time, you must just let life happen and by all means avoid motion sickness-totally uncool. Now fast forward to Sunday and there is sadness in Zo’s flat as she gets some terrible news. I feel so helpless around her and I silently beat myself for not trying hard enough to give her the Saturday night of her life and say a silent prayer for her heart to heal. After leaving Zo’s place I decided to walk home instead of taking a taxi, I mean Arcadia is pretty close from Hatfield. Biggest mistake of my life-I got mugged for, wait for it, a record seventh time. My fourth cellphone is taken and the two hundred rands I need for my dermatologist appointment is also taken but the worst is my fear is back, I thought I was safer here than when I was in Sunnyside but life is teaching me other things and I now trust nobody. Writing really makes it feel better. Lol, my boyfriend and I made plans to go to Gold Reef City on June 16 and after all the let downs I have had with planning I look forward to seeing how our trip is going to unfold. Till next time-take care of you and yours! Mwah!

VARUSHKA-My winter blanket, my weave.

Yes, I always, without fail, pose like this lol

So I have a weave...here is her story. Varushka and I met under stressful situations.I had a game performance and desperately needed a quick-fix hair do and she had been imprisoned in her packaging for a long time without a head to call her home. I would say that we both needed a friend. I went to the salon a lil apprehensive, I have not had weave in over a year and was not sure if I would make the right hair choice. The salon owner greets me warmly, of course he does lol, and we proceed to talk hair. He brings me three samples and immediately I fell in love with all fourteen inches of Varushka's awesomeness!!! She is soft to the touch, has a sun-kissed brown highlight and she reminds me of spring and sun dresses. I must have her. Now this is where I realize that I am an amateur weavist-the salon owner tells me that I will need to use two packets of Varushka and it will set me back a good R480.00. LMAO, any one in their right mind would have seen through the lie immediately. Firstly, fourteen inch weaves in a single packet alone will cover your head and you will still have a little bit extra to make a skirt, so imagine how much of a struggle it was to try fit all two packets on my head?! The poor hairstylist was being tasked the hardest trying to weave twenty eight inches of hair on my  head and mind you I do not have the smallest head but we ran out of surface area fast. Fast forward to two weeks later and these are the pros and cons of trying to wear twenty eight inches of hair; Winter cannot touch you lol, instant glamour and I never struggle to get dolled up when going out, boyfriend has a new toy to play with and I am a total camera whore lol-facebook will be forever changed with my influx of uploads. On the other hand, I take hours to get to sleep at night because that is the only time Varushka itches like mad, I had to move the bang from the right hand to the left because it gives me terrible headaches when I catch Varushka out the corner of my eye,and boyfriend complains that new toy is leaving its DNA everywhere-this hair breaks the realest. The long and short of it is that me and my Varushka live in a symbiotic love-hate relationship. She has cut down my preparation time by half and I make it on time to my meetings and I have a companion to whip back and forth in the clubs. The beginning of a long and beneficial relationship perhaps?

Some toes are more equal than others...



All toes are equal...really now!



The scene begins as such. A young, dashing fellow looks yearningly across a room filled with gorgeous, voluptuous beauties and as fate would have it he spots HER. The Her that makes his heart beat a little faster, the Her that he wants to give his last name and grow old with and the Her that makes his life worth living. He must have Her!  As he approaches her and her bevy of giggling friends, he gives her the once over from her head all the way down to her feet. Beautiful face? Check!  Full bountiful breasts? Check! Oh so sexy body? Check! And those...WTF are those meant to be? Does she landscape with her feet? Will I now need three condoms, one for me and two for her feet, for protection? Suddenly the dream that was, is tossed out the window all because our devilishly handsome so and so will not date a woman whose toes look like they were cast as the murder weapon in a horror movie, Hahaha.  Now before you become overly sensitive about this tale particularly exposing your toes, let me clear things up. As young girls we all had a list of how our perfect men would look, smell, act and react and it was a little conflicting as you got older to hear that love sees not the outside but is has a vested interest with what lies within. So between your parents telling you, that as their princess you deserve only the best, and the world demanding that you compromise surely it must have made the dating scene a little awkward for some. Now the question is, would you date someone who is not on the level as you intellectually, physically and materially? The politically correct answer would be a bold yes but that cherry LV bag does match those pumps you own and having some else pick up the tab would be nice, even if the poor shmuck looks  like the bottom of a worn out shoe and can hardly speak that nasal English your parents paid so dearly for. Me, personally I love pretty things and have been accused of being a little bit pricey in my taste but I have a “toe” standard if I must say. If that toe has a great personality, is ambitious and understands my need for pretty things then please let him come to me when I am out of his league and I will give it a go with him. I love a good investment and sometimes the gratification of watching someone grow is much more rewarding than having everything handed to you. Be broke, merry and ready to grow. Take care of you and yours! Mwah!

O.M.G- From tragedy, terror to triumph:-)

But can midnight slap me across the face already!? I know other people out there have bigger problems than I do...well, let them blog about it lol. Mine started off as a sweet Monday. I finally kicked ass at Price Analysis and Estimating and boy did I have a spring in my step. Fast forward to thursday and I put my diploma on the line when everything I had studied for my Construction Technology test does NOT come out. How crazy is it to only know ten marks out of sixty. Help me Jesus because it is deep right now in my emotional hood. My Friday was the bomb.com, sleep at Southern Sun in Sandton with my dance crew Phly.Nation and it was for MAHALA. Slept in crispy sheets, had a surprise get together for our dance coach and left the hotel after an amazing breakfast. Lol, now if it sounds like I am flossing that's because I AM suckers! The emotional damage done to me after Thursday could only be healed by an overnight stay in a five star hotel #smiles#. Saturday was awesome, the fans at loftus were crazy fun and oh so warm. Zooming into the oh so glorious Sunday. My dance crew came second at the Battle of the Giants dance competition, thus getting closer to realizing our dream to represent S.A in Austria. This week has ended in smiles and love and it does not hurt that I got greeted by a handsome man when I got back from competitions. Now off to start a new week with a smile and some love. Miss my mummy!

Crack Food-Couples' guide to budget dates.

Forget uptown restaurants! Eating out has gone mobile in the silliest way, crack food is the possible new romantic trend. Introducing, minatlana(chicken feet) and dikilana(gizzards). These are my new addictions and its such a delicious sin because you do not have to dress up with your hair and make-up done to enjoy this date, you do not have to make reservations in fear of having no space to dine and you get to star gaze if the sky is clear enough. These mobile restaurants are at many a street corner and comprise of a miniature braai stand, a shady looking chef who looks someone who has been in a police line-up and the semi-cooked chicken feet or gizzards. You and your date find a street corner that a friend has recommended you try or one you stumble upon. Upon arrival you find 'shady chef' sitting on an empty beer crate stoking the coals of his braai stand and you place an order. He then puts the semi-cooked delicacy back on the stand to cook it it thoroughly so you may enjoy a hot meal. Now the make it or break it of this meal depends on his secret marinate which pops out of nowhere in a broken plastic container. This marinate, which he applies to his product with a paint brush, looks like a mixture of everything lol,and I have concluded that there must be crack cocaine in it because how does a rational-minded person make a conscious decision to eat all that? Maybe I am a lil crackish and am only following my crackish nature to lead me into temptation or maybe the talents of my 'shady chef deserve a lil more credit than I am willing to acknowledge. Whatever the reasons for my going back, addicted is what I am and will proudly attend my C.F.G.A (Chicken Feet and Gizzards Anomnymous) meetings with a smile on my face and tell of all the adventures experienced while making romance work on a shoestring budget. Yummy!

When The Fire Is Low...

When love ages

So he has made her cry for the third time in seven months. Ever notice how much bigger the bed seems when you are fighting with the man you love? All of a sudden it seems like your dreams are miles apart and it scares you a little,okay a lot, just how much of an effect he has an effect on your feelings. The coals are in a steady decline and are losing their spark quickly. A part of you wants to be so mad at him and shut him out and never ever speak to him again but after a few minutes of heavy silence you so badly want to laugh because you remember the day he carried you on his neck all the way from Woolies to the flat, the day he stuck your nailpolish up his nose just to make you smile, the many times he has had to cook for you because of dance practice and his waking up in the middle of the night to keep you company when you cannot sleep. You love him so much and wish he had not chosen the day your menstrual cycle made you crazily emotional to talk outta the side of his neck. Mind you, what he said may be a lil true BUT really now,he could not wait for next week? All of a sudden you want the space in the bed to get smaller because you do not want to go to bed angry because for all the things he gets wrong, he really is the only man who lets you see his heart and the light that is his love holds you tight and that very same light forgives you when YOU are wrong. All of a sudden being angry is such a waste of the time you could be using to walk in love and faith with your man. When the fire is low, tending to it seems like such a chore but when you know in your heart that sixty years from now you want to be wrinkly next to the same person because when the fire is burning, he makes you believe in the endless miracle that is love, then you tend to those coals with a smile. Love for me is measured in the times when the honeymoon phase takes a vacation. If your honeyboo can love you in difficult times then the abundance of love you will feel in good times will only taste sweeter. Of course this works best as a two way street so take care of yours. Mwah!

Colour me sexy-the red nail polish myth.



Lady in red...

 Laying in bed while my boyfriend gets his anime fix. My mind begins to travel back as the heat in the blanket begins to slowly roast my toes. The year is 2007 and I am a first year res student at T.U.T. I have painted my finger nails a blood red and am in the res elevator with two seniors. Out of nowhere my trail of thought is interrupted by one of the seniors:'Oh my gosh Madice(res nickname)! Red nail polish? You look like a prostitute.' Whoa but can that girl just take a pill and stop shattering the dream of I deem as beautiful? That elevator ride did not last forever but what she said stayed with me, I realise, for many years. In my year of innocence I did NOT want to be mistaken for a street walker! Now, fast forward to a few years later and I still haboured a fear that red nail polish would make me seem 'classless'. I mean, I saw many women whom I admired wear that infamous red colour but pushing through the prison of words that my senior had incarcerated me in was quite the battle. Fast forward to today, lovely anime-addicted boyfriend, warm blankie and red nail polish on my nails-YES, RED NAIL POLISH! :-D You see, I learned that red is more than a colour. Red is the courage to be noticed from across the room even when you may not want the attention, the lingerie for your hands and for me, the power to find your own sexy. Hmmmmm, just might wear this colour for two weeks straight.