One Wedding down... one to go

Apparently three couples are getting married on Jan 3. I am invited to 2.

The wedding yesterday was nice.

I had a good time emceeing the reception. I was in my element... it is good to be reminded that I actually do have flair.

My hand still hurts so I am forced to keep my blogs short.

Imelda says I am addicted to the internet.

2 Days to Go- The darkest hours before dawn...

I have cleaned the bathroom, curled my hair, sorted through papers, done the laundry. Now all I need to do is sweep (pains in my wrists wont allow me to mop the floor).

But yuh know what? I getting miserable!

Wouldn't you if you were having a runny tummy for weeks on end? It has gotten to me now, twice nightly trips to the loo on account of stabbing belly pains really can make you cranky. To top it off, I had to rush like mad about an bour ago to use the OFFICE bathroom!

I need a wash out. Pure, clean and simple.

I am soooo happy to be leaving this country.

3 Days to go!

Hair curl up in setters.

Still cleaning house (can u tell I am not into this bit?)

Passport and visa inna mi handbag.

Should I walk with cash or card?

4 days to go....

It has DEFINITELY been the longest week ever. I feel like a five year old right before her first train ride.

I have almost finished packing (except for shoes, jewellery and some suits to be laundered in Jamaica).

I have washed my locks and am about to curl them, which will last until Christmas. I dont plan to spend any money at any hairdressers when I reach Jamaica. IF I need professional assistance, my little sister will have to step in. What she think I sending her to cosmetology school for?

I am tidying house with my one wrist... putting things in order so that I will return to order.

I wear a wrist band now. I realise though that my wrist only feels fine when I do absolutely nothing.

I am goign to get the car serviced next week.

7 Days to Go!!

Until I leave this place!

Lord grant me your grace

My fambily and friends to embrace

And with my lover, disappear without a trace.




CLEARLY, rhyme is not for me. But man, I am sooo happy, I at least TRIED to rhyme!!!

andddddd...............


My MAC is BACK!


My wrist hurts so i cant type long.

Petted and Pampered

I feel like a girl again.

The 13 year old who would spend hours in the bathroom, soaking in the tub, shaving non-existent legs hairs, trying new homemade facials, and plucking every stray hair threatening to ruin perfectly arched sparse eyebrows. Those were the days when I embraced the woman I was becoming and had all the time in the world to bring her out in the confines of the bathroom after my Saturday chores were completed.

It was a beautiful and silly kind of self love. I was too pure and innocent for it to be for anyone but me. And it had to be done in hiding because my Daddy needed not yet another clue that his baby girl was growing up.

Isnt it fitting that the Bee Gee's "More than a Woman" is playing now on my iPod?

It's funny, because as you get older, the novelty of doing all this stuff yourself becomes a chore and you would rather pay someone and spend all day in a salon/spa and have others handle your fragile parts with care, but ever so often, it's nice to kind of do it alone at home.

And the thing is that it always takes me back to the peach bathtub and my 13 year old self, especially when like today, it's not for any particular purpose, and there is absolutely nobody else to please but me.

Today my youngest sister turns 16. Happy birthday my love. I really hope that you will cherish these years of purity and innocence and wide eyed enthusiasm cause once you grow up, you will have to resort to rare solo bathroom pampering sessions to bring out that little girl in you. Well, duh! Its not so bad... but still... love you lots and lots while thats all you really have to worry about.

It will pay off later on- I promise.

I am going home...

I am going some place I belong...

I am going to titivate this evening in preparation for my trip home. So what if it's in 10 days? It's a perefectly good number.

I'm going to do my toes.

Shave my legs.

Pluck my eyebrows.

Give myself a facial.

Lotiont.

And feel pretty.

Train up a child the way she should grow...

You know what, my parents did a damn good job. They did the best they knew. What could be better? Perfection?

They had their challenges... and in many ways I represented their most difficult one for many years, resulting in stomach ulcers and hypertension for my Daddy, but still, he never gave up on me.

My mother is having quite a difficult time with one of my sisters, but in spite of how the rest of us think, she will never give up on her.

Parents are the first people who believe in you before you even know yourself enough to believe in it.

And do they make mistakes! Sometimes really bad ones that scar us, and require us to spend years in therapy to overcome, but you know what? If therapy does not include a crack house, violence and selling sex, they didn't do that bad a job.

The thing I am most grateful for though is my faith. Had I not been exposed, I would not have the faith I now have.

This life is filled with a lot of nothing sometimes, many things that are puffed up and empty, having a form of godliness but denying the power thereof.

I miss church. I really miss church.

Finally finishing my thesis

I just sat and wrote my research proposal for my thesis which is to date, six years overdue. Don’t get me wrong, I have attempted to do so before. This is my third topic during that time.

My weakest point academically is research, and while I have managed to get good grades for the courses I sat, I knew from the get-go that I would have a problem with the research. Why? Because I had nothing that I wanted to write about.

I first took a leave of absence due to my close aunt’s death. I was very close to her and watch her fight a painful battle against breast cancer, with which she had been diagnosed at 26 and died of at the tender age of 31. That was hard for me and submitting a thesis was the last thing on my mind during what I knew would be her last months. I am happy I put her first. No regrets whatsoever.

Unfortunately for me, I developed a whole range of excuses that have now spanned six years. That is a long time to put off getting a piece of paper. I could have finished a PhD. by now- but I don’t want one anyway so no point dwelling on that.

I had come up initially brilliant idea of presenting my research in the form of a documentary on the reality of those living with HIV in Jamaica. Unfortunately, that would have taken funding (video is expensive) and that would have meant several proposals and tireless follow-up to funding agencies for grants. For me, that was too much work. Then I had jobs that required too much of me.

Then I came up with another brilliants idea (still incorporating my first love- film) which would allow me to examine how Jamaicans portrayed their own on film. This turned out to be slightly boring and yet again, I pulled the plug somewhere in the midst of gathering a load of information and books on stereotypes.

Now, I have a time issue on my hands. If I am going to be successful getting decent jobs outside the Caribbean, I have to be suitably qualifed and beyond the Caribbean Sea, a bachelor’s degree and a “pending” masters just do not cut it.

So I have decided to take all of this work drama here and develop an academic research around it. If I am not successful at actually doing the job I thought I came here to do, I must at least gain success academically.

It is the perfect scenario for my thesis, and I have access to all the supporting materials. Plus, the research is really my job- writing communication strategies and policies to improve communication in a place that never had any formal strategy or policy.

The challenges only make the research more realistic and less academic, and you know what I have found? Just by writing the proposal just now, I have come up with some new ideas about how to tackle the problems at work.

It is a exercise in self-criticism and commitment, not to mention patience.

I know that there is ageism at play on the job. I realise that in most workplaces, and cultures, it will be same. Nobody wants to take crap from a woman, much less a younger, prettier one.

But I have to learn to find ways around my own obstacles, real or perceived. I have to learn to get the job done in every circumstance that I am placed in.

My first bible verse that I learnt from Aunt Rosa (who I thought was An Trosa for many years) was “Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

Maybe I have been trying to take the praises for me, and as such have come across as self-centred and conceited. There is a thin line between confidence and conceit, and maybe I have crossed it a few times.

So this research is teaching me so many things.

It is reminding me that no matter what, I am not at core a quitter. I finish things worth finishing. It is also pushing me to meet personal deadlines that I am not otherwise self-motivated to meet.

I have been trying to get my financial house in order, but I also have to ensure that I maximise my career potential.

If I am contemplating marriage and the inevitable raising of children, I have to make certain that I have pushed myself as far as I can go now.

I have been blessed with talents. Sometimes more than I know what to do with. But talents are like minutes in a bad telephone plan-use them or lose them.

My single years were supposed to be spent on developing me and finding my way, and in many ways I have but I need to go further. Too much time was spent dwelling on men and heartache. Too much time on chasing the all-powerless dollar and too little on doing what truly makes me happy.

And that brings me to today. Today is the day of reckoning. Today is my day of salvation. What am I being saved from? The most destructive elements of myself.

I keep on moaning that there is nothing to do here when I have this grand opportunity to finish something so critically important to my next move that has been hanging in the balance for all of six years.

When I get married, I will not only be debt free, and have some personal savings set aside, but I will also have the qualification to ensure a good future for myself and my family.

One thing I love about writing is that I just don’t know how my thoughts will develop. Somehow, they have a mind of their own and become coherent when written.

This is a wonderful place to be at the end of a long, rough, but good year.

I have discovered personal strengths I never knew I had. I have discovered love and support from people that I never knew I had. I have gotten closer to my family by moving away from them and having to take part in the day to day drama.

I have discovered in me a capacity to love another even after getting burnt.

I am a resilient force of nature. I fall. Sometimes repeatedly, but always, do I get up (even if it takes painful nudging and shoving from those who love me most).

So, in essence, thank you all who love and support me. My successes are your successes. It is on your shoulders I stand. Thank you for your wisdom and insight and most of all, your time.

Good friends are really worth more than pocket money. As it stands, based on the support I have in my pocket, I am a rather wealthy

Miscalculations

I got sick yesterday.. ..(due to the spraying of aerosol cleaning stuff in my office by the same woman with who I argue about it everyday). Went to the hospital (no private doctor's here) and then the clinic to fill the prescription because the pharmacist at the hospital was MIA.

Anyway, I was talking to Easy Skanking Chef about this whole timing drama, and he says that I shouldn't worry about it because there is much more to us than just horizontal entanglement. He said that I am not a sex object, and even though he would love to -as any man would- if we have 6 nights less, then so be it. We have more in common than that and even much more to discover.

I was thinking that was all sweet and grown up and then I am like- you know how LONG four months is to wait plus to then settle for only four nights? I mean, I hear all that very progressive talk about the female body and love and I honestly really and truly appreciate the depth and integrity of this man...but as Imelda #2 always says-"Not a backside!"

I wouldnt if there were more days together. In fact, I have NEVER done this in my entire lifetime. But hey, I never had such a damn good reason to.

I am still thinking about it though. Who wants to pop a pill the same time, everyday?

I neeed a nicotine patch.