The things dogs hear!

So I was at Victoria train station today. Had popped in for some sushi and miso soup at Yo Sushi after meeting up with Andrena to return the Nikon D60 that she had graciously loaned me (thanks again chick!) for a few days. I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning so the hot soup disturbed a bit of wind that had taken residence in my intestines. As I stood checking the train departure times, I noticed a cute dog standing at his (or her, I didn't do a check) master's side; without a care in the world, just happily panting away. Now, train stations are rather loud places, with all that clickety clack of heels and people talking and trains going and coming. So, I didn't hesitate to release some of that 'disturbed wind' that was rattling about inside. But I was cautious, squeezing it out just in case I had a 'talking loud in the club just as the music stops' moment. I'm pretty sure it came out as a high pitched 'fweeeee' like George Jetson's (if you used to watch cartoons you'll know who he is) hovercraft thingy. And had it been a quiet place, human ears MIGHT have heard it but it wasn't and I was feeling a bit smug about it. So I set loose another short, sharp one and didn't bother to ease it out.

And the damn dog whipped his head around like somebody had just shot off a starting pistol, twitching his doggy ears as if he was tuning into a radio frequency. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and he was looking at me with his head cocked. Real persistent. So I looked fully at him, and he had this expression on his face like: "The humans might not have heard that, but I bloody did!"

Pfft. Stupid dog...

The Red Bitch is back!

I never thought these words would ever pass my lips BUT I am soooo happy that my period is here! :-D

And no I did NOT have a pregnancy scare. You need sperm to facilitate such a thing, and just like hair on a bald man's head, that has been in short supply round these parts for quite some time now. But that's another story!

Earlier this week my menstrual cycle sauntered back into my life after a hiatus of almost a year. She just popped back up like she'd never left. No complaints from me! Truth be told, I was getting a bit worried at her absence. In 2007, my bright ass took the depo provera contraceptive injection - not because I was in a steady, committed relationship *scoff* - but simply because I hated having my period.

As I had hit my early 20s, my period (which had never given me much bother) turned into a raging beast that attacked me with deadly precision every month. I suffered sharp, crippling cramps that I felt down to my tail bone. And to make it worse, I don't like swallowing pills. This is going to sound stupid but any time I have to take a pill, a little voice in the back of my head screams that it will become lodged in my throat and choke me to death. Irrational, I know, but it happens still. So pill-taking is usually a song and dance for me... and if I can help it, I just don't take them at all. But I digress!

So yes... I hated the red bitch with a passion, and at the time it seemed like a stroke of genius to relegate her visits to 4 times a year. I had briefly skimmed the side effects, and the most pressing one was the risk of osteoporosis in later life if you remain on the injection for several years. I told myself I'd just stay on it for a year or two anyways. And things went smashingly... at first. I'd get the injection and enjoy 8 - 10 blissful weeks of not having to subject myself to sanitary napkins (which always feel like adult nappies to me) or tampons... and most importantly, NO CRAMPS! So no breaking out into a cold sweat on having to take oral pain medication... things were running like clockwork.

But then the clockwork slowly started losing time...

The red bitch would reappear at progressively shorter intervals until eventually I ended up with an extremely light, 2-day flow each month. Totally defeating the injection's intended purpose, right? So I stopped taking the shots. No more hot pricks in the backside... But the oddest thing happened. My period stopped completely. Not... a... drop. At first, I was over the moon... couldn't believe my good fortune. My doctor had told me that once you stop taking the injection it could take a little while to resume its regular pattern. Fine by me!

Two months passed by... then 6 months... and still no sign of RB. At the 7-month marker, I started to worry. Nervous tittering would usually accompany the "No" whenever Mommy asked if my period was back. And then one by one, a few of my friends started having babies... angelic, little cherubs (well MOST of them were). Naturally, I started getting broody. I've never really had that maternal urge but I always figured that one day when Mr Right came along I'd want to merge our DNA and squeeze out at least 2 bambinos. And, of course, it's always when you can't do something that it becomes most appealing to you!

Images of my womb and the Gobi Desert started swirling in my mind. What the hell had I done? I was convinced that this could be the end of my gene pool. But I played ostrich and started ignoring those thoughts. Kinda like the fart that everybody smells but noone is willing to acknowledge because some wise-ass will shout "He who smelt it, dealt it!"

So here I am, sitting in my room, revelling in my adult diaper. I hadn't realised just how much this disappearance had weighed on my mind. It's like a millstone has been removed from around my neck. I mean there's still that possibility of ending up a childless spinster (I despise that word BTW! Every time I see it, I can hear the cold clickety clack of knitting pins), but at least it wouldn't be because I physically couldn't.

Good thing I didn't burn my list of baby names!

The Noisettes

When it comes to music, I generally listen to a little bit of everything. As long as the beat is catchy. My albums are a mixture of goodies from the likes of Robin Thicke, Nas, The Buena Vista Social Club and Regina Spektor, to name a few.

Songs tend to catch my attention and sufficiently pique my curiousity into downloading it on uTorrent *cough* I mean buying it on Amazon.co.uk! So a few months back, the TV was blasting as I passed by and this black chick caught my eye. Very pretty, dark brown and wearing deliciously kooky clothing with an even kookier hairdo! So I stop to listen...

AND ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE SONG!

Songs tend to grow on me, but ever so often there are some gems that I love instantly. I watched the video until the end, noted the band and the song title, then rushed off to write it down, so that I would remember what to download *cough cough* I mean BUY later on.

But of course,on my way to write it down, I got distracted. *insert mild expletive here* And no matter how hard I tried to recall the name, it evaded me... like that deaf, naked guy on Family Guy who oils down his skin so they can't grab him (lmao).

I tried googling bands with black female lead singers but for some odd reason I just kept coming up with this heavy metal band Straight Line Stitch. Surprise, suprise... the lead singer is a black woman! Not my type of music at all BUT it was intriguing watching her do her thang!

So to cut a long story short, I found the band last night... The Noisettes! The lead singer is Shingai Shoniwa. London born to Zimbabwean parents. Their music is an eclectic mix of soul, motown, indie and pop. It's how music should be... lifting and refreshing! All these generic rappers, RnB and pop singers should take notes...

Forgiveness at the crack of dawn

Sleep is one of the things in life that I really enjoy. It takes a vigorous, persistent shaking or a really annoying alarm clock to rouse me from the land of nod. Last night,my usually sound slumber was far removed from its usualy pattern... every little sound kept waking me up... and when, at the crack of dawn, it looked like I might actually drift off for a straight hour... the bloody mobile rings.

TWICE.

Naturally, I'm pissed to high heaven because my first class is at 9am... and it's cold outside, but deliciously warm under my duvet. The first time it rings, I ignore it completely. Instead of getting up to remove the phone from its perch on the desk, I put my head under the pillows. Silence.

Then it rings again!

My annoyance at being disturbed at this ungodly hour spurs me out of bed. I look at the caller ID, and although I recognise the name that pops up, I don't really believe it. That is, until I hear her voice.

"Hi, Jamila? It's me, *insert name here*"
"Hi."
"Did I wake you?"
"Yes, you did."
"Oh sorry! Well I'll call you back later ok... that's if you don't mind?"
*pause*
"Yeh, I suppose you can..."
"Speak to you later then. Bye!"

It was my former best friend (FBB). To cut a long story short, FBB had gotten married in June - and not said a word to me. I wouldn't have minded if she didn't invite me because it had taken place in Grenada, and my work schedule wouldn't have allowed the trip anyways. But it was her total disregard for our 12-year friendship - not even a 'hey Jam, I'm getting married'. I heard about it through the grapevine. When she did get around to telling me about it, all I got was:
"Oh BTW, I got married."

BTW? BY THE WAY??!!

That's the sort of a thing a casual acquaintance says to another. Needless to say, I was hurt. After letting her know how that, she apologised... but it came across as merely lip service. So I cut her off. Deletus Blockis was put into effect... once in a blue moon she would message me asking how I was, and my replies would be the same.

Short. Curt.

So, back to present day. FBB calls back in the afternoon, and seems overjoyed that I am back in London. I don't really say much. Then she begins to apologise profusely... saying that she didn't know how to tell me she was getting married because she was so unsure about the entire affair... needless to mention the fact that although she's getting married, he won't be joining her back in London but staying in Grenada... and there was some mention of 'other' women.
*rolls eyes*
Basically, it was her shame that kept her from telling me. Now she wants to make ammends. Seeking forgiveness and understanding. And, of course, she wants me to meet her little boy, who I haven't seen since December 2007.

I believe that she is sorry for her actions... I believe that this time round the apology is genuine. But I'm still miffed that knowing me for as long as she has, it never crossed her mind that I'm not the type to gloat and jeer "I told you so!" That I was relegated to the same rank as all her other friends in not being privy to her marriage plans... that she didn't trust me enough to know that I would never judge her. We ALL make mistakes...

FBB wants to meet up over the weekend... and I sort of agreed to it. I'm still in two minds about it. The friendship can never regain the closeness it had before, but I'm not averse to us being friendly. Twelve years is kinda hard to bin completely...

But I've been left with all sorts of questions... do we expect too much from our close friends? Should we just accept that sometimes longstanding friendships just wither and blow away? Where does trust go when it's broken? Am I too demanding? And the most burning question of them all:

Is it truly possible to forgive and forget?

I wonder why she has chosen now to explain herself... Had I still been in SVG, would she have bothered? I also wonder if it's mere coincidence that this has taken place on the last day of the month...

Is that a sign to let bygones be bygones... and start afresh?

The Return

So I have left the sunny climes of St. Vincent and the Grenadines and traded it in for the grey drabness of London. All in the name of education and progressing my career in the field of writing and media...

As LIAT took off, I experienced an acute feeling of sadness and happiness. Sad that my mother is now an ocean apart from me (as old as I am that always brings a prick of tears to the eyes), and that I have left behind my small yet solid circle of close friends. Yet I am happy because it was a real struggle getting the finances sorted to embark upon this journey...

*On a side note: my struggle, which I have lovingly dubbed 'adventure in Vincy student loan land', has really shown me that despite the Government's mantra of education for the masses, it really isn't so. There are some within the upper echelons of the power grid who still believe that certain levels of education are only to be achieved by SOME. I heard about far too many people who have been denied loans to further their studies because they don't have sufficient collateral, but still don't qualify for the disadvantaged loans... and far too many scholarships being kept hush hush and given to those who CAN afford to take out a loan with their parents' help. But we'll speak about that on another day...*

So here I am sitting at the laptop in my room on halls of residence... listening to some other freshers blasting a techno version of a popular dancehall tune. Can't remember the name... "Me nah believe yuh/ when yuh say the sumn tight/ til it ah squeeze yuh..." You know the song.

It's an odd and almost surreal feeling being back in London. I've been away since December 2007 but it feels as though I was last here yesterday. A good thing I suppose.

I missed induction week, so most of the other students have already formed their own little cliques... Not too disappointed that I'm not a part of any of them. The vast majority are fresh out of A'Level college and preoccupied with socialising, fashion, drinking copious quantities of liquor and smoking those disgusting little cancer sticks. Getting an education is their secondary function... already I'm on a totally different plane. So, no clique for me!

I briefly chatted online with my former best friend earlier today... didn't feel a need to tell her I was back in the same locale as she is. I'll let her know when I'm good and ready. Afterall, I wasn't privy to her marriage plans... but that is also another story, better left for another day!

All I need now to cement my return is my barrel of personal effects, a blackberry and a plate full of sushi!!!

The aftermath of a robbery

Yep. I was robbed.

First time ever.

It wasn't anything dramatic... my life wasn't put in danger. I fell asleep at a friend's place, and my handbag was left in the living room. On hindsight, I should have taken it into the bedroom with me, but there are burglar bars on the windows, and it never crossed my mind that someone would walk with a pole long enough to fish my handbag from the coffee table.

But you live and you learn, right?

My nokia 6500 (slide phone), $25, and a few other trivial things were taken. But of them all, the phone burns me the most. Not because of its value... because it was a Xmas present from my mother. I treasure things that my mother gives me because I know she thinks long and hard about them... I appreciate it.

And added to that, there are a whole heap of numbers on that phone that I never got around to copying to my other phone...

But like my mother says, I must be grateful. My passports were in my handbag as well, and thank God the thief didn't take those!

But I can't help feeling a little bereft... as though my privacy was invaded. Trivial as the items may be, it felt a bit like someone stole a little piece of me. I can only imagine how those who have been victims of more serious theft feel...

But on a lighter note... I'm convinced it was either a crackhead or some mentally unstable person. Apart from my phone and the money, the idiot also took one rechargeable battery and some business cards. There were four batteries in the case, so why take just one?

And who the eff steals business cards?!

Alone

Today, a fellow blogger's entry really struck home with me.

He spoke about being surrounded by people yet still feeling a noted sense of solitude.

All my life, I have always felt as though I was on the outskirts looking in. I got on great with several cliques throughout my school life but never quite felt as though I belonged to any.

I was popular enough, but not one of the 'it' girls that boys went crazy over... I had pretty good grades, but wasn't one of the nerds...

I guess the long and short of it is that I have never had my social niche... The only consistent thing over the years, is that people seem comfortable off-loading their woes onto me.

I'm a good listener. The 'agony aunt'.

But the problem with being a good listener is that when you need someone to listen to you, your friends are too busy doing their own thing... they assume you don't have any problems that they can lend an ear to.

It sucks when you don't fit into a neat box... when people can't predict what you'll say or do. I think to them that comes across as something of the unknown. And you know how we humans are wary of the unknown...

I don't set out to be unpredictable... in fact, I don't think that I am. I just don't follow one prescribed way of thinking. There are certain matters that I am quite liberal on, and others that I'm quite the prude about. And of course, there's stuff that I sit firmly on the fence with.

As I get older, it's like my anti-social side is screaming to be let loose. But I don't want to. I don't want to be one of those bitter, old spinsters who find fault with everything... but on the other hand, I don't want to be the social butterfly. I can't handle that kind of social scrutiny.

*sigh* I feel like the Lone Ranger... but where's Silver?