When I guessed, and when I knew

When I guessed, and when I knew

It was 19 May 2008 and I stood, swaying slowly on the spot, the incredibly high heels I was wearing putting up and amazing show of good shoemanship, and squinted for the cab I was waiting for to arrive. The incredibly cute guy who had basically taken it upon himself to look after me all night was standing next to me. I knew he was my friend Tasha’s friend. I knew his name was Johnny, but by that time I was suffering such acute embarrassment and it was taking so much brain power  to stay standing, I pretended  I couldn’t see him.

We had been attending Tasha’s birthday party and to say that I had been the life and soul of the party would be an understatement. I had ruled the entire joint and by the morning I was probably the subject of hilarious tales across the city. My phone began ringing incessantly from midday from about six people I had met and made firm friends with the night before. I was gratified that all of them were women. They all invited me out again and for a dizzying month, I was the showpiece and often the only black person in pubs around Linden, Greenside and Sandton.

But on the morning following that fateful May day, I began to suspect my life was about to change and if I didn’t adapt, I would die. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was heading downward and I knew from experience that climbing back up from the abyss was a journey I could not do twice. I had had my chance and it was that chance that I was gambling with now.

In the beginning of July I woke up from a days-binge of alcohol with the garbage bin in my bedroom reeking of puke, my ankle was badly sprained, the TV was on and my swollen feet were stuffed in yellow high heels. Under the pressure of keeping up appearances, of partying with now-faceless and nameless people, I had finally buckled. To this day, I am so grateful it was the holidays and my children were away visiting. I had ushered them away as soon as school closed so I could continue to bury myself in alcohol. I was mourning the death of my ex, a recent discovery of an untenable situation I found myself in and a perceived personal failure. I was a mess.

That is when I knew. My life had changed. It had irrevocably changed and I needed to change with it. It was TJ who helped me find the right path and the strength I needed to follow that path.

Over the past two years I have been so tempted to go to the liquor store and buy myself a case of beer to just drink and drink and drink until I pass out. But the memory of that bin, nearly brimming over with vomit, the stink of the bedroom, the cigarette burns on my very expensive linen, my inability to get up and wash myself because my ankle throbbed so much, serve as a reminder to me that I may be amazing in other things, but I cannot handle my drink.

And I have proved to myself in the past two years that I am an amazing person. Hiding behind alcohol so long I never gave myself a chance. I thought I had to be OUT THERE, I had to be crazy and I mistakenly thought that I could only be those things if I was drunk. In the past two years I have only drunk less than three full glasses of wine if one had to measure, and those in the company of my boyfriend, in celebration. I do not want to fear alcohol, but I know it is not my friend.

In the past two years I’ve realised a few things, I’m AWESOME, I’m CRAZY, I’m IN YOUR FACE, I’m OUT THERE and I’m outrageous. It has absolutely nothing to do with booze. I’m mad and I love it.

And what a GOOOD time we had!

I cooked our anniversary dinner myself. I had one hell of a time! And so did my TJ. Here's a photo of our meal. :)

Anniversary Jitters

TJ and I are making it to the totally insignificant big, amazing and meaningful two-year anniversary!

*pause for Zumba-style rocksta hip-hop dance here*

I’m pretty excited but curiously nervous at the same time. Given both our ages I guess two years would mean that we start delving into “THE FUTURE” but we did it backwards. We settled this question a long time ago.

Unfortunately I was amiss in telling my friends and family of this. Now I am besieged with questions. My mom is fond of asking, 

“Does this man REALIZE you’re an old wrinkling graying-by-the-day nearly-past-shelf-life an amazing catch and shouldn’t be kept dangling like this?” 

“Yes mom he knows and he does NOT dangle me, we’re not into funky sex positions!” I’m often heard mumbling in answer while she gets into stride on her anti-TJ rant.

Even my daughter who really doesn’t have the right to comment on my love life often makes heavily suggestive comments about single women who really should be settling down as an example to impressionable teenage children.

She can obviously go jump for her cheek.

But more than that jitters, thinking of my anniversary makes me dance and I get stomach flips; because after all this time, after all our fights and make-ups and disagreement about Bill Clinton and Mandela I am still so crazily in love.

Yes!

I’m IN LOVE with my quiet, thoughtful, clever, brilliant writer and sex god of a man.

I imagine a life without him and I panic. I imagine a week without him and I panic. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night just to tell him “Baby I love you,” because his response is always “I love you more,” and LUURVE to hear that even though it is patently untrue.

5 Things You Don’t Know About Us

1. We’re the world first couple to be this amazingly in love. I know you’ll say I’m lying because YOU and YOUR partner have that honor but everyone knows you’re wrong.
2. When we don’t speak for a day we start to mutate into broken hearts and bleed all over there people we’re with so that is why we’re together ALL the time.
3. We’ve adopted a hut in the bundus that is our very own love nest and we may be found there pretending we’re not in so we can be alone.
4. Although we’re both incredibly sexy and good-looking our gorgeousness doesn’t make everyone around seem dowdy, it actually beautifies them.
5. We’re never going to break up because a group of aliens we met told us that if we did Planet Awesome Couples would invade Earth and destroy everything in bitter disillusionment. We both take the responsibility for Earth’s continuing existence very seriously.

3 Reasons Why You Should Do Zumba at Home

Well I thought I’d tackle the flab once more instead of letting grow wild and confident, taking over my whole shape over the winter so that come spring I am cowering in dressing rooms, trying to shut out the four-way view of my fatty fold while I fit a size bigger than three months ago.

Now I wasn’t going to do my usual waddle/jog or swimming gig to keep in shape over the winter! No way. It gets darker earlier and I am not giving some rapist a shot at TJ’s sexy ass NO SIR! And obviously, heating the pool is just irresponsible given my bank balance.

Ha!

Or lack thereof!

*let me shatter inside for a bit and cry into my double chins over this tragedy*

Anyway, my dughter is now proficient in the "Hip-Hop Abs" exercise routine and while it’s great exercise and I like to do it, I was getting annoyed with Shawn T’s annoying voice. Not really, I’m lying, she’s taken it to her bedroom and I just didn’t want the politics of going to ask for it every time I need to exercise!

So I got me the Zumba!!

BIG MISTAKE!!

Sigh. Here are three of the topmost reasons I'm glad I get to do it home though;

1. They make you do something called the Booty Roll.

*break for maniacal laughter at this point please*

The booty roll is so EMBARASSING! Now imagine I was in a gym and doing the Booty Roll among 5million other saggy-bottomed losers?! JESUS! Please someone save me from myself. I feel embarrassed doing the booty roll alone. And slightly ashamed.

2. Your children think you’re hilarious but at least it’s not Miss Skinny Pants standing behind you at Gym.

This once, my daughter came in as I shook my groove thang and commenced, *maniacal laughter again please* to laugh until her abs turned into a dancer’s six pack. Little bitch. But imagine if it was someone else at gym? My heart would shatter to little pieces, my merger self esteem a thing of the past!

3. When you do the Cumbia you can trust upwards for all you’re worth!

I feel this step is the closest I’ll get to learning tantric sex secrets and I am glad for chance to do it at home! While the energetic upward thrusts would no doubt lead TJ to crown me his queen forever, it is not without its drawbacks. If I continue to participate in it as enthusiastically as I have been I am afraid that I will have a lot of explaining to do. My boobs nearly smash my double chins into my face and I think a few teeth have been knocked out! Mercy! Only try this at home!

So there you have it. My forays into Zumba! (I always resist the urge to do an African war-cry here.)

The small comfort is that come spring, I won’t be ashamed to shop!