A lot of times we list being content as being financially comfortable, or without challenges in life. And we spend so much time
The heading or topic was written 3 months ago or so.
Days and nights and mealtimes and playtimes and drinking times were filled with work. If they ever existed at all. Tons of work, endless visits to anyone who can shed a light to what seemed like the most exciting mountain to climb yet taking everything out of the body and soul.
Cousins became mentors, best friends became coaches. Good friends became sound boards. Everything stopped. But work.
Until one day, on the freeway, after yet another late night, almost midnight to be exact, everything went fuzzy. Legs went numb. hands trembled profusely and the feet did the only thing they could possibly do, hit the brakes.
When the ordeal was finally over, home safely and sound, relief came in the most unexpected way. A brand new True Love magazine on the kitchen counter and still sealed. Well, anything to take the mind off recent events would definitely be most welcome, unaware that it had the message from God. Clarifying what had occupied the mind for at least 2 weeks before. There was the most difficult turning point that had to be taken.
And this would be the defining point in a lot of ways. The thing is choices are always the most difficult when the obvious choice in the heart just seems like the dumbest choice in the mind.
Stay in the dayless nightless funless drinkless exciting adrenaline filled “NEW” job offering mind spinning OMG that much cash in the bank?
Or move on to where the heart is, and hopefully relief will come in many ways? Even though that dream car may still just be strongly contemplated and saved up for??
Well, the heart always finds its way. Thank God He intervened. Through an article in a magazine.
The mountain is great, when it is fun, and fuzzy still, but mostly when you can still enjoy the ordinary in life. To just be, sometimes. Never for the money, purely for the love.
Once upon a time
There was black and white
Two distinct colours
Two distinct lines
Black this side
White the other side
Black was black, true to the core
Then there was a movement
They called it the rainbow
New spectrum aglow
Did we move forward
Or slid to a new direction
Hating on each other
Black on black,
Not black enough
White on white
Not white enough
New Movement in progress?
Shades of grey
Generation we want it all
And don’t give a shit
Whose toes we step on,
Our souls are the price tag
Give me the moola
And I’ll show you what I got
And you can have it all
My soul is all you need.
And you can have it all
Once upon a time there was soul
Twas enough to make me whole
now its just a big hole
but there’s still hope
after the storm
there is a rainbow,
maybe I’ll get to see it too.
Everyone that has conversations with me for more than 30 minutes eventually gets to know about that dream car of mine. Yes, the Mini CountryMan. It was love at first sight, upon stumbling into a pic purely out of utter coincidence. im not car crazy, have never been, so I never even bother with car mags. Somehow it landed up in my hands, with the Cooper as a “to be realeased” car of the future.
I made a promise to myself that it will be my next car when I get rid of my beloved car. The moment came, I sold my car, and I was ready for my Mini. Until I fell in love with a beautiful house, and the Mini took the back seat, For now. Till I get used to the hefty bond. Only in a few months time.
A few months have turned into forever, they are fast becoming a year or two. I’m shocked, happy, anxious, disappointed all at once. I’m living in my dream house, but my mini just seems to be further in the future.
To point that now, there is the latest kind of country.
The one that involves deliberating before taking each and every journey, the logistics have to be carefully planned. Ima be taking a “TAXI”. Yes, I take taxis now, and it never crossed my mind that after 6 years of owning a car, acquired in one single payment, I would land up here again.
I’m writing this, standing outside McDonald’s waiting for a friend, but now I can’t exactly just stand here and type away.
I’m compelled to grab a bite/drink close-by so I can be comfortable while waiting. This has become a trend and I seem to find coffee shops in weirdest corners in this town. There are plenty of bars too but I’m not in habit of being a “DRUNK PEDESTRIAN”, not that I promoting drunk driving either. The coffee shops are safe.
The strangest of all is, I usually never have money this time of the month, let alone that it’s January!! Guess what, when you ride taxis, you HAVE to have cash. More than your taxi fare even. The unexpected always happens, like when I realised the other day, on my way to work, that I took the wrong taxis and landed up on the opposite directions of where I was going. Or the following day when it started raining just when I was beginning my journey, and knew that it would take a miracle to have a direct taxi on time and the best action plan was to divert the route to the one going faster before I got soaking wet. And the last thing you want to be is a 31-year-old, dressed to the nines, begging for taxi fare home!!
So, there’s always cash. You know what, somehow I’m enjoying life in its purest ordinary form. my body is recuperating from binge drinking, and my wallet has taken a breather from all those Thursday night outings with the girls. I’m learning, and compelled to find entertainment in ways I even forgot existed.
You know what this is what I realise, I am in a Mini Country “Wo”Man moment. I mean, look at me, and see what I mean.
I’m dressed like I just jumped out of the eighties. The junk sale bag to match. I’m wearing flip-flops because its enough to walk in heels to work and back, I am not cruel enough to punish my feet further. I’m without makeup, face it, makeup and endless walks in the sun do not mix. The face is greasy, I am yet to find sunscreen that doesn’t grease up my face.
WHAT COULD BE MORE COUNTRY THAN THIS?
AND GUESS WHAT, I’m loving every minute of it! My view is broader, and somehow, the most important factors are even better than before.
So, this is MY mini country”wo”man moment, and guess what, I will ride it all the way to the sunset with a smile and a cheerful heart!!!
The packaging is different, but it still is.
WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, you make lemonade, and sell it at a profit!!!
I like him, he’s cool. I wanna talk to him, pick his mind, talk about life. if only he can come closer, say hi, give me an awkward “strangers” hug. Poor guy eventually catches on and walks over then oh-ooh, I can see the top of his head!!!!
Where are all the tall men out there?
I wanna cuddle up in bed next to him and feel like a tiny, protected, fragile me and disappear in his arms. Instead of trying to bend my legs so they don’t stick out in bed, and curl up behind him so he doesn’t realise my legs can go as far as his waist.
I want to be lifted off my feet and spun around like a 5-year-old. And kissed all the way to the bedroom in his arms.
Instead of walking all the way there with my head hanging low because, poor guy thought he had muscle enough to carry all 171cm of me.
And rather found himself bruised all round balancing with everything in sight before finally, with the last breath remaining in him, throws in the towel and admits defeat.
Unlike most women I know, shoe shopping becomes the worst pain of them all, not because my feet are so big they only fit in the men’s section.
To the contrary, they are a perfect 4, but every pair I fall in love with means that I bow down at every door and everyone talking to you starts suffering from neck strains looking up at you.
Thank Gawd the “turned-up” pants and jeans have become the trend, saving you from being embarrassed about your pants and jeans that never quite touch the ankle (qatha out)… lol.
Hair up-dos have become a no-no, you are already taller than everyone else in the club, men women combined, you don’t wanna make matters worse extending the inches!!!
The store version of a micro mini skirt is enough to cover your waist, or perhaps be creative and make it a boob tube, otherwise stick to the normal ones that serve to cover everyone else’s legs but yours.
You see the runway called life?
Walk tall, Tallie.
Giraffes get to taste the freshest, ripest fruits without much effort.
Isn’t that awesome?
So can you,
Enjoy the ripest fruits of life.
A mantra I chant to myself every morning, day, evening and night.
Step up to being a good mom, achieve your career goals, buy that house, pay off those debts, go to that girls’ night out, go home to be with family, go to that festival even if you’re alone.
Step up and be the best you can be.
Every time there are two steps up, there is one step down. Yes, it doesn’t just all work out at once. Conflict is part of it, those you love and loath evenly. You lose some, you win some, eventually you conquer the demons, the skies clear up and opportunities arise, amends are made, goals are achieved and new goals come up.
There is a price to pay; with every step up there is a hefty price to pay. You spend time with the kids so they are happy. You still worry about the work you are supposed to complete before Monday, and the 15th outing with the girls that you have turned down.
There is only one you, and you are not able to do it all at once. There are no limits or targets other than the ones you set for yourself. In your time, when you can, you will do it, in the order that you arrange yourself. You know your priorities, and challenges, you deal with your demons, you face the wrath, you have every right to choose and live by your choices. If it is on anyone else’s clock, nothing will be achieved, and you will forever be wondering why it is so.
Stick to your beliefs, values, goals and targets, if you don’t live yours, you will adopt everyone else’s and you have no idea why they are.
It will be challenging, it will be worth it. If it’s yours, nobody else’s.