Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A few vows go a long way...sometimes anyway

Once upon a time, long ago, way before iPods and skinny jeans were on the scene, people got married once and if they had the misfortune of having to do it again, they generally had a different leading bride/groom.

In the past month or so, my unhealthy appetite for all things tabloid has highlighted a pattern that was originally inherent in Hollywood couples, but has somehow trickled-down to us mere mortals...

Renewal of Wedding Vows

I get the "appropriateness" of renewing your vows when you've been together for, let's say over 20 years. After that long, you definitely need a bit of a vow refresher, enough time has passed for you to actually forget what y'all had sworn to do for eachother in the original binding contract, lol

Heck, in this case the aging couple have both probably defaulted on a few of their original vows, so setting the tone for the next 20 years together and reaffirming their love with a "renewal of vows" ceremony, sounds pretty reasonable to me.

What i don't get is couples renewing their vows on a yearly basis (yes Heidi Klum and Seal) or every five years etc I get that things go down in a marriage, where as a way of moving forward you see renewing your vows as a way to do this. But ummm, from what i hear, marriage is hard work and you're guaranteed a few spats on a yearly basis, so from a savings perspective, it may not be in everyone's interests to have ANOTHER ceremony to prove that you're still in it, to win it.

The original vows covered that bit quite thoroughly...well in my humble opinion anyway.

Holla in your comments your thoughts and experiences!


In other news:

How to spot your colonial roots: Nothing like a Royal Wedding to ressurrect any colonial roots you may have lingering about. When i heard our dear Kate (yah, that Catherine-Catherine business is NEVER gonna catch on missy) had finally got Wills to put-a-ring-on-it....a bloody rock of a ring, at that, my joy was momentarily eclipsed by the stark realisation that I would now never be the Queen of the Commonwealth.

Friends sympathised with me (the good ones anyway), the others told me to stop smoking what i was smoking. I was advised by some that Harry was a better catch than Wills (seeing as he's already got a penchant for Zim girls) and Him didn't know what the fuss was about, as he assumed I already knew i was seeing a prince *insert eyeroll*

To mollify my sense of loss, instead i will start planning the viewing session for the royal gathering and celebrate with my colonisers on this momentous occasion :-)

38 days and counting: The year is winding down, they're fewer cars on the road, people are burnt-out and can be found talking to themselves in office corners.

I'm kind of done with 2010, i barely remember the first half of the year...then again the year hadn't started until the Fifa 2010 World Cup right, lol. The second half has FLOWN by and chocker block full of change and progress.

I would like to dedicated my prayers for 2011 to the people and nation of Haiti, because if there's every been a people or a place that needs a break in the year to come, it's Haiti.

Chickens, as sluggish and impatient as we are to move on and embrace the new upcoming year , lets make the last few days of the year count for something....and yes, that is my inner cheerleader talking :-P

Stay blessed and motivated.

V x

Friday, September 17, 2010

How to give yourself away in 30 seconds!

First impressions are extremely deceiving. I don't know about you but i usually need to go in for a third or fourth opinion, at the very least, before i can gauge a semblance of a person's true colours. Once in a while i get it right the first time round, very rarely so though.

Thing is, third and fourth encounters usually take time to reach and we all know that time isn't something we all have a lot of, right? So how do we fast-track this "getting to know you" process....why, play a board game or a card game with the person under scrutiny of course.

Playing board games or card games strips most individuals of pleasantries and reveals what lies below their social facade. You learn whether some is competitive or not, a good sport or not, intelligent/creative or not, honest or otherwise...studying individuals while they play a board or card game is social anthropology at its best and here's why:

30 Seconds

I have guy friends who, believing themselves to be intellectually superior individuals, use this particular board game to determine whether there can be a future with their current "lust interest." One Friday i was invited to witness one of these vetting scenarios under the guise of a Game's Night. Now one of the lads had brought along his current lust interest (lets call her X) a very good-looking chick, who he was very proudly flaunting in front of all and sundry.

Before we knew it, it was game time and the stakes where high. Never had I played amongst such a competitive bunch. Tempers were high, insults where being hurled back and forth and there wasn't a shortage of laughter, at the expense of others.

The most laughter was generated unintentionally by X. I sh*t you not, i still find myself laughing at this chick's ignorance:

Example 1:

X's clue description: "It was a time of exorcism...yes, exorcism of demons."

Team's incorrect responses: The Exorcism, Village of the Damned...

What X had been trying to describe: The Holocaust.

Example 2:

X's clue description: "It's a landmark in London."

Team's incorrect responses: Big Ben, The London Eye, The Tower of London, Trafalgar Square...heck Stonehenge was tossed in there.

What X had been trying to describe: The Eiffle Tower.

People where *dead* around the table, especially my mate who minutes earlier had been looking at X adoringly. Now his expression resembled that of a man who was frantically in search of a rock to crawl under.

Moral of the story - Today's lust interest, may be tomorrow's baby mamma/life mate...meaning she may have to sit and do homework with your little ones, pick wisely...play a game of 30 seconds ;-)

There are so many other games i could name that reveal tthe baser traits of the average human being, such as :

Texas Hold 'Em Poker : Beg, borrow or steal poker chips till you make it...whatever it takes. The real gamblers and strategists rear their heads in this game.

Scrabble: Not reading enough, we'll find out sooner rather than later, not to mention that the Chancers come out in their hordes (there's no such word as hajard!)

Crazy Eight: The first part of this game's name provides some insight into the side-affects of playing it. Noone playing ever has the same rules with regard to what cards count for what. A lot of cussing ensues and even world leaders are looking at getting it banned, just to maintain the peace within households.

Holla in the comments memorable moments when playing board/card games with friends and family....i suspect there are quite a few gems out there.


Happy weekend chickens! May the force be with you :-)


V x

Friday, August 20, 2010

Confessions of a Clear-Heel kind

It was a regular Thursday night, except, ummmm...it wasn't.

It's one thing to find me home on a Thursday night, firmly wedged in the countless cushions on my couch catching JonasThe News...and quite another to be in a room full of twenty-odd women, getting pole dancing lessons while decked out in all forms of Chinese-imported flouncy accessories. The latter is an outline of how yesterday's evening went.


Disclaimer: I'm talking about pole dancing here, not stripping. Those two things aren't the same, close cousins (twice removed) perhaps, but world's apart. So before some of you get on your high horse, no money was offered for performances (although that would have been nice, i would have liked some spare change), clothes remained on (thank goodness) and LOTS, yes lots, of fun was had by all of sundry (i.e. no animals where harmed during any performances).

Our instructor for the evening was a very young looking blonde chica who was pretty unfazed at having to teach a room full of rather out-going (read: rowdy) ladies pole dancing moves. She came through with the pole, who was eventually named Miguel...and we all got to bond with Miguel.

First up, we were told to choose names. This was met by blinking gazes and then a frenzy of mutterings along the lines of "geez, what kinda name" and "i don't have a name". Funnily, within 5 minutes, everyone had come up with a name...closet alter ego's methinks. Some priceless gems were:

- Pussylicious;
- Golden Sugar;
- Chocolate Thunder;
- The Advocate; and
- (Winner) Never Enough......*dead*

Blondie then took us through some routines, we learnt some tootsie rolls, the flamingo leg lock, a basic swing and some other routine that was nameless but will by "the big finish" going forward. Practice makes perfect, and i am seriously seeing the merits of owning a pole...from a fitness angle of course *coughs*

We learnt all these routines without heels: One really appreciates the finess of those ladies who can execute them in 8 inch clear heels, nogal. It was

We didn't always get it right: Falling, slipping and sliding occured on many occasions, which made for great sources of humour...until it was you on your ass that is. However, we learnt that it's not how you fall, but how you recover that makes all the difference (you'd be surprised how a well placed bum wiggle will fix everything).

We were competitive: For every 3 movements that Blondie taught us in a move, you best recognise, that some of the more out-there ladies threw in an extra 3 movements. I haven't seen as much popping and locking since i last caught a Snoop Dogg music video. Sheer hilarity. I have a sneaking suspicion peeps were downplaying just how much they knew about pole dancing #I'mJustSaying

We got a workout: I made the stupid mistake of wearing high heels to work today. The pain. I'm not walking straight. Parts of me hurt. I'm getting bbm's from other participants about mysterious bruises they're finding on themselves. No wonder strippers look fit...they have to be!

We laughed...HARD: From those who were a tad bit weary, to those who threw themselves into the spirit of things, everybody had themselves a fab time.

Blondie then ended the evening by showing us how it was meant to be done! Gravity was defied many times over and we were more than happy to hand our lesson-money over to her (i lied, some money was indeed exchanged).

Sadly, after having had such a spectacular Thursday night, it's kinda putting undue pressure on tonight's anticsactivities :-)

Holla in the comments your pole dancing experiences or aspirations ;-)

Have a great weekend, chickens!


V x

Sunday, August 15, 2010

It started with a kiss...

You must remember this
A kiss is just a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by”

Casablanca – (As Time Goes By)

Whilst partaking in a boozy lunch on the leafier side of Johannesburg, my friend “X” and I spoke about all things under the sun (both figuratively and literally). As conversations predictably go, especially when they involve women and alcohol, we spoke of relationships, hook-ups and drive-bys.

At some point we got into a debate about whether kissing was considered cheating! I argued yes, she adamantly refused that it was so, nonchalantly declaring that such indiscretions where mostly likely to happen, one way or another.

Now we can ring up some fancy statistics and split hairs all we want...but if you’re engaging in any intimate relations with someone other than your significant other, errrr, you’re cheating. Don’t pull a Bill Clinton “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” defence, we all remember how that one turned out.

As far as I’m concerned, kissing is a gateway drug to other such preambling antics*...after all, we aren’t 12 years old! Seven seconds in heaven isn’t gonna cut it no more.

What I should have asked X was, if she found herself in the position of catching her significant other engaging in a round of tonsil-hockey with someone else, would her cool and “worldly” demeanour remain intact....or would she be singing Chris Brown’s “Deuces” with the rest of us.

Holla in the comments!

*Can you tell I’ve been reading my fair share of Victorian-period novels, lol.


In other news:

You know you’re getting old when...Nicki Minaj samples Annie Lennox’s “No More I Love You’s” and today’s youth look at you like, “Annie who”. I’ve tolerated Ms Minaj and her brightly coloured hair pieces since her debut...she can flow but up until her “Your Love” track (that I have on repeat), I couldn’t be bothered.

Calling all blackberry users: I’ve googled this particular problem and haven’t found a solution...so here it goes. How do I delete my BB voice notes, they used to disappear completely but now they don’t and the one’s that refuse to delete show a Jan 1st 1970 date, which is pretty random...



Happy Monday chickens, keep your eyes on the prize #GenericWordsOfEncouragement


V x

Friday, August 06, 2010

O_o ...no words...okay, maybe a few

Open Letter to Montana Fishburne:

Dear Montana,

I don't get it.

Nobody, and i mean NOBODY wishes to be a porn star when they grow up. Ask any porn star out there and they're tale of how they got to where they are is one of poverty, misery, drug abuse, abusive relationships and more poverty.

Now a pretty girl like yourself from a well-off family proclaiming to the world that this line of work is your calling is about as easy to reconcile as....nothing, you're the first of your kind (and hopefully, the last).

I would like to think that this obvious cry of attention of yours is some way-ward form of rebellion and/or unresolved Daddy issues but baby girl, one thing is for sure, some things can't be un-done and this is one of them.

PS: In response to your much publicised, delusional quote:

"I hope it's not hurting [my dad].
It wasn't done to hurt him.
But I think it will take time and talking through the issues.
Eventually, I hope he will be proud of me.



In other news:

Inception..Deception...Contraception: Demmit, i am loving the names of flicks these days! I haven't caught this movie . I'm working through a serious movie backlog due to the World Cup taking precedence.

Random side note: I was having a discussion with a friend who claimed that Leonardo DiCaprio can't be taken seriously in "mannish" roles, as he will always have that boyish charm about it...unlike say Brad Pitt who is very pretty but still carries off mannish roles very well.

I don't agree, i think Leo has come into his own...in fact, with his wolfish looks he reminds me of a young Jack Nicholson.

What say you?

V is for Vampire: Damn you Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyer for feeding my insatiable thirst for all vampire related literature, TV shows and flicks with the exception of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (that was truly a CRAP show, at best).

I'm besotted with these blood-sucking characters...so much so that i'm now hanging out in the "Young Adult" section of the bookstore *cringe*, stocking up on notable titles like the Blue Blood legacy by Melissa de la Cruz or Marked (House of Night) series by P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast.

Funny story: I had some contractors at my place fixing up some stuff and when it came time to write-up the invoice, one of the contractors asked me my name, except he really didn't me properly because he then started calling me "Vampire". Errrr, yah. I was confused. When i spelt it out for him, he then accused me of misleading him by pretending my name was Vampire.

No words.

Speaking of Anne Rice: She's turned the Christian world on its head by declaring she's done with the religious institution that is Christianity BUT is still all for Christ. As contradictory as it sounds, i get her point...but it seems a bit of a radical move. Hypocrisy and bigoted behaviour is ever present in all religions, when it comes down to it, it's all about the relationship you have between you and your maker.

As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I
refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be
anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be
anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In
the name of …Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.

Now whether one can remain spiritual without being religious is the big question for all... as is whether one can be Christian without going to church and partaking in Christian practices.

Lots of food for thought here! Holla in the comments.


Oooops, i've rambled on long enough. Chickens, have a great long weekend and keep safe!


V x

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

How to rock stunna shades in bed

It’s been just over two weeks and i believe I have successfully channelled “Anne Wintour”. My stunna shades and I are one. I don’t go anywhere without them. I wear them ALL the time. Name the place, i’ve probably worn them there.

In the mall.
In the bath.
In bed.
Heck, i even wore them in church....

Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks of judgement. Oh yes, i’ve seen the inquisitive looks, the dismissive looks. I know what some of them are assuming.

I’m famous.
I’m a Diva.
I’m hungover.
I'm high.
I'm blind.

Trust me, I feel real stupid wearing them everywhere... but try to part me with my shades and I’ll have to hurt you...I’ll have to hurt you real bad.

You see, it will be exactly 19 days, today, that i had a cornea transplant in my left eye *pause for dramatic organ type music*.

It’s been a surreal experience, one that has taught me the following:

· Eyes work like boobs: They draw you in AND they work in pairs. So if there’s a problem with one, the other one will have sympathy pains.

· Those little pills pack a mighty punch: I now know why John Mayer waxes lyrical about sleeping pills. For a week after surgery, they were my close friends. Sleep would not come without them, and when it arrived after popping one of those bad boys back, so did the CRAZY, vivid dreams.

· Dr Darcy: Good looking practitioners’ facilitate speedy recovery in patients...according to me that is. My eye surgeon is the reincarnation of Mr Darcy from Pride of Prejudice. Given the fees he charges, he definitely has a Pemberly-esque mansion in the ‘burbs. Do we have any takers, ladies?

· Too many people have watched Jessica Alba’s movie “The Eye” *shudder*;

· Cabin Fever can be fatal: I nearly slit my wrists i was so bored. Lying in bed, in a dark room, unable to read anything, unable to watch anything, alone with my thoughts...it wasn’t pretty.

· I’m not ready for a baby: Waking up every 2hrs to take medication in the first week humbled me. New parents keep a similar timetable for longer periods of time and all I can think is...it must be a labour of love.

· R-E-S-P-E-C-T : I have deep, resounding respect for the technological advancements in the medical field. Who thought this up? Who perfected it? Who were the guinea pigs (ouch)?

· Love Is: To be surrounded by love when you’re at your most vulnerable is a wonderful thing. It’s a blessed thing:

Love is The Almighty who heard my prayers and made sure everything went as I’d requested.
Love is my mother flying in to wait on me hand and foot without complaint or need for reciprocity.

Love is my father calling ALL the time to make sure I’m okay and remind me that physical distance ain’t no thing.

Love is my brother and sisters distracting me with their tales and stories, making me laugh when all i wanted to do is cry, fuss or feel sorry for myself.

Love is Him cutting a trip short to be by my side me and patiently listen to my irrational fears.

Love is my girls who kept tabs on me using all technology available to them.

Love is those unexpected calls from people you least expect.

Love is the stranger who signed themselves up for organ donation not knowing their selflessness would improve the quality of life of someone they would never know in their lifetime (i can't say thank you enough).

Thankfully, I need my stunnas less and less every day. Yesterday was my first day back at work and it took everything in me not to pull them out of my bag during a meeting and whip 'em on - the questioning looks would have been too much, lol.

Holla back and let me know what i've been missing on blogville & the world at large (names may be changed to protect the guilty :-))

Have a glorious Chewsday, chickens, and stay blessed.


V x

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Prelude to a Dream

So over at the AfriQan Times site, i've published a new blog post entitled "Prelude to a Dream", drop by and leave me a comment s'il vous plait.

==============<() Toot Here

Now I know I'm not alone here by thinking this whole World Cup affair is not only truly awesome but the most mind boggling event ever! So much is going on, nothing is going as planned...it's ridiculously exciting.

So i've got some questions to ask, so humour me and let me know what you think in the comments:

1. Which team do you believe has played the most consistently thus far?

2. Which team or teams are you supporting?

3. Which team DON'T you want to see going through to the second round?

4. What team, so far, has the most stylish home/away kit?

5. (Ladies, this one's for you) Which World Cup player is currently your "Hottie of the World Cup"?

6. During what game and by which player has your favourite goal of this World Cup been executed by?

7. Which team's performance has disappointed you the most?

8. If you could re-watch a game thus far, which one would it be?

9. Are you a fan of the Vuvuzela?

10. Do you want more football or are you officially done with the woo-hah that is this FIFA World Cup?

You don't have to answer all the questions, just the ones that leap out at you!


Chickens, it's a truly Beautiful Game and i'm with you every step of the way!

PS GO BAFANA BAFANA...today's your day to make history!


V x

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Philip Eats Here (Feel It, It's here)

Ola Chickens,

Rumour has it there's a FIFA World Cup happening on african soil, eh, that's news to me...

LOL, I'd bhave to reading under an extremely soundproof and media-proof rock not to realise that the greatest sporting event of 2010 was happening on my doorstep!

So no, I haven't neglected to mention it on my here blog, where you will find my World Cup ramblings is over at my Afriquan Times blog (link: http://www.afriqantimes.com/Public/Template8/ThreadView.aspx?tid=35641).

My usual non-WC blog posts will continue here, but please hit a drive by at my AQ blog and drop a comment for your girl (read: help make me look good).

In the meantime, let my return to catching up on my zzzzzz's...you wouldn't believe how demanding and continuous this footie fever is! Philip definitely Eats Here, lol!


V x

Monday, June 07, 2010

The One about The Rooster and His Chicks

It's story time folks and boy do i have a story for you!


Not so long-ago, in a land not-so-far-away, lived a Rooster. Now this Rooster was a big deal and liked people from far and wide to know he was a big deal. He was particularly proud of his Hen wives, they were the best-looking (?) in the land, always being actively pursued by the #1 chicken talent agency in land, "Nandos" (ka ka ka).

Anywho, the Rooster realised after a while that he wasn't providing each wife the same amount of quality time. The more wives he acquired, the less time he had for all of them. Farmer John raised it to the Rooster a few times, and suggested he either cut back on the hen-wives or to bring in a new rooster to assist with the "quality time backlog", but the Rooster wasn't having it. He wanted more wives so that everyone in the land would know he was a big deal.

The older wives weren't so happy with the arrival of newer, fluffy hen wives, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Yes, when joining the coop they had been debriefed about the coop dynamics and potential expansion plans, but they were so overwhelmed and excited by the prospect of being the wife of a Rooster (who's a big deal) they dismissed the fine print.

Now they say idle beaks are the devil's playground and these neglected hen wives grew more and more restless by the day. They all hadn't had "quality time" with The Rooster in a long while and were starting to consider the advances of neighbouring Roosters (who weren't such a big deal, but available).

Upon hearing that some of hen wives where "scratching" around on him, The Rooster grew livid...he called a coop meeting to oust the traitors. The hen wives, knowing they were all guility of losing interest in The Rooster in one way or another grew defensive...the more The Rooster crowed, the more they clucked, until, tired of his self-important crowing, they pecked him to death.

The End.

In some unrelated news, turns out that Jacob Zuma's 2nd wife has been caught out stepping out on Le Presidente with her *cliche alert* bodyguard. Even more interesting is that she's pregnant...baby-father at this time is unknown (but i have my hunches).

Turns Mrs 2nd-Wife-Zuma didn't like the idea of JZ getting himself a 3rd...4th...5th wife. Actually, she was positively livid and caused up a stink that cost her a whole (wait for it) goat. In Zulu culture, to apologise for "bad behaviour" the offending person's family must pay the offended persons family a white goat.

Not sure why Mrs 2nd was all that surprised that JZ was taking on another wife, after all she was his second purchase isn't. Turns out the beef was a bit deeper than that. Being a polygamist is akin to being the chief tightrope walker in a circus.

Everything has to be in balance, all weight...or rather affection, money, attention must be evenly distributed or all hell breaks loose. So if you, for example, took one wife on holiday to an exotic island...then taking the other wife to the local bed 'n breakfast ain't gonna cut it. If anything, you should probably start being wary of food prepared by the bnb-going-wife...i'm just saying!

150 years ago, polygamy was the norm, my paternal grandfather was raised in a polygamous household, until the timely arrival of the Methodist missionaries into the House of Stone. If they landed, then i guess this wouldn't be such a meaty topic as it is today.

There are arguments that polygamy would solve a man's need to go forth and conquer outside the marriage bed. However, having 1 or 8 wives at home won't stop a man from cheating, purlease.

The other thing is children from polygamous households usually never take the same root. Memories of either their or their mothers mistreatment or neglect puts them off the idea of repeating history. I knew a girl who would come to school crying every day whenever her mother was out of town, this was usually when the other wives took out their jealousy or frustration with a targeted wife, by tormenting the absent wife's children.

I know of a businessman who, with 25 plus children running around on this earth, decides which children he'll shower his gifts on based on his relationship with the mother and how good looking the children are (messed up).

I wonder if there are any men or women within our generation who have seriously considered the idea of more than one wife or being an accessory wife?

Then again, when i think of it, having multiple mistresses/masters or friends with benefits who have wife-like benefits and privileges is the new strain of polygamy these days. It never really left...just morphed.

Holla in the comments!


Have a great one chickens...and Roosters :-)


V x

Thursday, June 03, 2010

A "Jane Austen" Moment

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that...

African parents fly into a mad panic when their female offspring start approaching a certain age and the topic of marriage hasn’t been broached. True to form, my parents are in no way different and given their recent antics, are willing to break traditional parenting rules to get their point across...loud and clear.

Picture the scene: It’s a calm Sunday night, I’m winding down and prepping for the impending work day ahead of me when my Blackberry pings, signalling the arrival of an email. Thinking it’s one of my diasporan girls hollering, i nonchalantly reach for it, while simultaneously attempting The Sunday Times crossword (i only managed to get 5 words, hmmmph).

A glance at the email confirmed the impossible, that hell had well and truly frozen over.

Reflecting back at me was an email from my darling father...that wasn’t the shocking part...the distressing bit was the email subject title, and i quote, “Why are Black Women scaring off their Men?”


Now I’m not somebody accustomed to having nothing to say (many can vouch for this fact), but yah, gobsmacked doesn’t even begin to describe it.

After being dumbstruck for a marathon time of 5 minutes, my temper set in. I wasn’t so much seething as i was MAD...hopping mad. Please note, i hadn’t actually got round to reading the email yet, i just wasn’t happy about what the subject title implied...that if i was a black woman of a certain age and single, i was obviously actively going out of my way to scare the fellas off *smh*

A “sisterhood tribune” was necessary: Sister #1 was called, she found the whole thing hilarious and my father’s concern endearing, “He’s just concerned Vimbi, the man is feeling his mortality.” She was to “zen” for my liking so I bid her a hasty adieu. Now given global time zones, i knew it would be cruel to holla at Sister #2 and reasoned that I should probably sleep on it. Note, i still hadn’t got round to reading the email.

6:10am Monday morning, Sister #2 rings (clearly she’s not so concerned about disrupting my REM cycle, hmmph) and informs me that under no circumstances am I allowed to respond to The Email. You see, I’m not exactly the family diplomat, I’m prone to dramatic language not to mention, I’ve been told my voice levels climb an octave or two when distressed. Sister #2 calmly explains my father’s motivation in sending such an email and that she agrees with some points raised, she too sounds very zen-like (yes, that gene clearly skipped me). That’s when I stubbornly conclude that I should probably read The Email.

Ten minutes later, I’m less scandalised but not completely mollified. I still don’t understand what made papa dearest send The Email. You see, although we were raised on healthy doses of the The Cosby Show and my dad reminds me of the character Cliff Huxatable, do not be mistaken, my father is 100% African. This means, when it came to raising us girls, it was implicitly communicated that he did not want to hear any romantic mention of the male specimen unless it involved marriage, otherwise he was indifferent. So all boys who came a-visiting when growing up where dutifully introduced as “friends” and rushed out of the house asap.

Clearly the policy has changed, papa dearest now wants to school us on the wants and needs of the African man and give my sisters and I a heads up...this has reduced me to giggling hysterically.

A phone call to my mother, confirmed all suspicions. Yes, they were concerned, or as my mother eloquently put it, “Where are my grandchildren?!” Followed by a thinly veiled threat, “We are looking into arranged marriages.” That got me worried; my mother has always been a poor judge of character when it comes picking out potential suitors for my sisters and me. She inadvertently picks the one who sucks up to her the most, the one who’s just a tad bit too smooth and general randoms.

Nope, this woman cannot be trusted, neither can her accomplice husband. A week before I moved to Jozi, my father craftily put an ex-boyfriend’s of mine’s father on the line, so that my ex’s father could explain in length that my ex and I would be living in the same city again and it was in everyone’s best interest that we “link up” *insert subliminal nudging and eyebrow waggling*

This situation is getting too Jane Austen for my liking...next the parental will be talking about the yearly income of so-and-so, the prospects of every bachelor within a 100km radius and what a great family so-and-so comes from.

I think it’s wise to give HIM the head’s up that gentlemen visitors may start to come a-calling and it’s none of my doing *smh*

Holla in the comments chickens :-)

Random Soundbytes

SATC: I won’t give away any spoilers, there’s so little to this movie that one line could give away the plot, ka ka ka. Okay, I’m being cruel, but I am the only person who feels a little sad for these mama’s running around Manhattan like they’re youngsters? Half the characters show some progression in life, the other half, eish...see for yourself what I mean.

But where they never go wrong is the clothes and the shoes! Surprisingly, the belle of this sequel ball is Miranda. Carrie’s looks are too overboard at times, Samantha’s over exposed, Charlotte’s doing her stepford wife thing, nothing new there.

The Warriors: Didn’t catch the Zim vs Brazil game, but the tweeting commentary on Twitter was so real-time, i felt like I was at the National Sports Stadium! So we didn’t school the Samba Kings quite how we would have wanted to, but it was a great game and my country people had a lekker time. Wish I could have been there *sigh*

Thank Me When? So Drake’s album only drops in stores in 12 days time, i.e. a lifetime away, so i may have coerced very good friends in emailing me a few tracks. Now ordinarily i would feel bad, but Drake himself said, and i quote, “I gave away free music for years so we’re good over here...just allow it to be the soundtrack to your summer and ENJOY! June 15th!” And my current soundtrack it is, i will still buy the album when it drops, nothing like poring over album sleeves :-)

PS I’m super obsessed with his track, “November 18th” off his ‘So Far Gone’ mixtape, “Closer” from his ‘Comeback Season’ mixtape and “Karaoke” & “Un-thinkable” from his ‘Thank Me Later’ album...yes, i’m crushing hard on Aubrey.

Afriqan Times: World Cup teams have descended upon the city of Gold and this city will never be the same again! For the next month and a bit I will be reporting on all the WC excitement and activities on the ground over at my Afriqan Times blog. I’ll post links to that blog, over here so you don’t miss out on the going’s on.

Like here, I’m hoping you’ll overcome your shyness and drop a comment here and there (read: help make me look good people, lol).

Pay me a at The Afriqan Times here.

Shout out to my girl Kookie for hooking me up with the gig! Check out her blog here.


Keep smiling chickens, catch you back here real soon!


V x

Sunday, May 23, 2010

The Ever-Shrinking Pool of Romantic Talent (ESPORT)

This past week on Twitter i was highly amused by some of the tweets i saw my tweeps exchanging, related to when it's deemed appropriate or inappropriate to pursue a fellow friend's ex. Advice like; "never", "only if you've asked permission from the friend in question" and scientific formulas (not if said ex = relationship lasted more than 6 months within in the last 5 years), where volunteered.

Clearly there's no "easy" solution to this predicament, however, it's not a predicament that's going away anytime soon.

I don't care what country, city or town you currently reside it or the ratio of men to women in these regions, the bottom-line is that demographic locations have are suffering from the worldly chronic problem of ESPORT (Ever-Shrinking Pool of Romantic Talent).

I've been known to refer to Harare as "Sodom & Harare" given the alarmingly increasing rate of ex recyling going on there (some people, who will remain nameless, seem to be the very common denominator in most of these *ahem* transactions). However, having lived in Joburg for two years now, ESPORT is deeply manifested here too.

After you stay in a place everything shrinks; social circles shrink, dating options shrink, hanging spots shrink...i could go on. There's no easy solution to addressing ESPORT, albeit changing geographic locations every couple of years, and this business of "you can't hook up with my ex" doesn't really solve the problem either.

In an ideal world, we'd all be eager to bless the unions of our former flames with our current friends. After all, just because me and my ex weren't a compatible twosome doesn't mean i should stand in the way of my ex and my friend in discovering their romantic compatibility...right?

In the real world, we may be an evolved species but there are very primal territorial traits that all but yell, "Back off if you know what's good for you. I've pee'd (metaphorically speaking, unless you're R Kelly) there. That's MINE."

So what's my proposed solution, aside from suggesting relocation to newer hunting plains? None really. When it come's to matter's of the heart, nothing's ever straight forward innit...

Holla in the comments your thoughts and experiences!


Flags in the City: South Africa has officially gone flag crazy! Streets, cars, people are brightly adorned in flags of the participating nations in the FIFA 2010 World Cup. Yesterday, i paid a visit to the local hair salon and was taken aback by the pretty lady sporting hair extensions in all the colours of the South African flag. If that's not national pride, heck, i don't know what is.

About 3 weeks ago, the only flags you would spot on cars would be the South African one, the only football jersey's you'd see people decked out in would be Bafana Bafana's. Now, in the last few days i've noticed a dramatic turnaround; on Football Fridays people are now wearing the football jersey of the team they're actually supporting and, diplomatically, most cars have two flags...the South African one and the "other" team's flag.

After watching the Champions League final last night, it reignited the anticipation and excitement of the impending World Cup celebrations and activities. It also injected just a teensy bit of dread, HE wouldn't let me change the channel last night...i could got a sneak preview of how remote-control handelling is going to pan-out till July 11th 2010, boo!


Have a great week chickens, remember all we have is RIGHT NOW!


V x
PS I'm messing around with blog templates, yup, it's that time of the year again :-)

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Tales from The Land of Oz

I'm sitting by my desk and slowly fading like a Kariba sunset. It's nearly 3pm, however, my jet-lagged body is me that it's 11pm and i should start winding down. Crossing multiple time zones is only for the strong at heart, lol.

Just over 24hrs ago, i was waltzing into OR Tambo after having spent a glorious week in Sydney, Australia. Just over 24hrs ago, my sleep-deprived self was almost reduced to tears on learning that my luggage didn't make it back with me. Just over 24hrs ago i was mentally calculating my next trip back to that side of the world (these calculations involved selling my living room furniture and living off chicken noodles for the next few months).

I wish i had kept a travel journal or something, but that's pushing it really, hahaha. So instead, i will share with you some rather random observations i made while on holiday....i'm sure if i miss vital points Kookie can refresh my memory, she was my Australian hotline counsellor who had to put up with wide-eyed-tourist-type observations (God bless you hun, you were a sport):

1. The men are super tall, like dude-are-you-gonna-fit-in-the-elevator type tall. I’m surprised the Australians don’t have a booming basketball culture, they’d be reaping in that cash!

2. There is no such thing as Australian local cuisine, instead they borrow on everyone else’s culinary influences, with Asian food be the primary dominator in the food market and good ole fashioned English favourites, coming in a close second. I was happy to note that I saw many a Nandos franchise within various suburbs (mmmmmh, yum), but was super sad to see that my all-time favourite Nandos meal, "strips and spicy" rice didn’t feature on their menus (boo!).

3. The city populous is kitted out, from head-to-toe, in fashionable threads, so much so, that you’d think you were living out an ad campaign. Imi ka, they aren't playing around! Sadly, the general price of clothing was enough to give those of us, who live in 12 months of the year in Rand (R) currency, palpitations.

4. I have a distinct feeling that the general Aborigine population within Australia is on the extinction list. On my previous trip to The Land of Oz, a few years back, i did manage to spot them, but in the greater metropolis areas i guess they don’t even feature. They are truly a marginalised people.

The upside is that there’s been a lot of press lately around a new Aussie supermodel of Aborigine origin, by the name of Samantha Harris (not that E! Hollywood presenter). Hopefully, she can raise the profile of her people, for the better.

5. The Aussie accent is definitely NOT contagious, even for an accent slut like myself. You're not going to catch me suddenly proclaiming "how’s you's" anytime soon :-)

6. Coming from a continent where cross racial relationships and interactions always seem to be steeped 300 years of underlying discourse, no matter which way you look at it, it was a breath of fresh air to interact with Australians, less complicated.

7. Australia has a soccer team playing in the World Cup (WC). How did this little piece of information escape me until i got there (don’t judge me..or touch me on my studio, lol). Good news is they're hyping the WC over there and are super excited!

8. Aussie television makes the SABC look good...yup, that bad.

9. Lots of cash, but not so much flash: Not the most materialistic of nations, Aussies prefer to downplay their wealth and play it cool. Spotting any automobile fancier than an Audi was a rarity in itself, it’s very much Honda and Toyota country, people.

10. Rumour has it Aussies pay 50% income tax (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong), which is steep... real steep. However, you can really see that all that tax money is being used for something. They say you can’t put a price on “peace of mind”, i think the Aussies have come close...real close.


Other trip highlights included:

Family Reunion: My family was in one place and guess what, it wasn’t Christmas, lol. Geez i miss my people man. This diaspora living business is getting OLD!

John Mayer concert: What that man can do with a guitar is illegal, and that voice *sigh* Sadly, my love affair with this particular character is over. I love his music, but i’m a bit over his persona (you can gloat now Shona!)

Hotel living: If only breakfast everyday was a full-on buffet and room service was a call away, i would be a very happy lady...a very overweight one too, but happy nonetheless. Don’t even get me started on great smelling soap they had in the rooms and the fluffy bathrobes...bliss man, utter bliss.

Partying like a Rock star: Sampled the night life (and many a beverage) in some hiphop clubs in the city, one of which was interestingly located in the middle of the Red District.

Note to everyone: When standing outside of a club...in a red district...and upon hearing Rihanna’s “Rude Boy” blaring from said-club, do NOT start dancing in a suggestive manner and sing-a-long loudly, “Take it, take it.” You’re just asking for trouble ;-)

Tourist stuff: I will never get sick of the Harbour Bridge, the Sydney Opera House however, that i may be a tad bit warried/indifferent about. I frolicked in Hyde Park (why is Hyde Park a posh area, no matter where you are in the world) where the fam and i checked out St Mary’s cathedral and the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Bondi beach was lovely, reminded me of Clifton beach (Cape Town) in the summer.

The Friends: These are the troopers that put up with my calls during work hours or after hours, when they were trying to wind down from a crazy work day. Whether it was arranging our entertainment, feeding us or just making sure my siblings and I experiences the full benefits of Sydney sans parents, these guys pulled through.

That all said and done, it’s good to be home!

There is really nothing like having an entire bedroom and bathroom to yourself. Not to mention, i don’t think i could take another turbulent flight without being tranquilised first.


Chickens, have a safe Phuza Thursday and holla in the comments y’all!


V x

Monday, May 03, 2010

I've been bitten

The travel bug has got me...it's got me good!

Now if only my bank account could match my travelling needs, i would be set for life.

This sudden wish to see it all was revived after a trip to the southern part of Mozambique, Ponta D'Oura, a weekend ago. It's been pissing cats and dogs for the last 3 weeks and what do you know, as i type this, there's a torrential downpour going on, so i didn't have to be asked twice to head off in search of sun and surf!

Being 1/16th Mozambican (my great-grandmother wandered over into Mutare from Mozambique during the late 1890's during some war-conflict) i thought it was high time i had a look-see.

First-off, we road-tripped there and back....it took nine hours...NINE HOURS. For some reason i was under the impression that Ponta D'Oura was a mild 5 hrs away...somehow, i did not factor in crazy pot-holed towns, damn goats loitering on the road and the fact that it isn't a fire drive.

Being the proud occupant of the back seat in the car, i passed the time dozing off or lamenting on how incestuous the natives of small-towns looked. Now i wish i could say we blended in, when we stopped for bathroom breaks or directions, but nope, you can clearly spot Townies a mile away. We're loud, we're brash and we have that Toto-we're-not-in-Kansas-anymore bewildered look on our faces, hehehe.

During the trip i was saddened every time we went through a tollgate...being a tollgate operator must be the LEAST self-actualising job there is out there. Most tollgates are located in the middle of bloody nowhere, they sit in insolated booths all day long and i'm sure they're a constipated lot (i doubt bathroom breaks are encouraged).

Eventually, we reached the border which compared to the likes of Beitbridge (Zimbabwe/South Africa) border is a breath of fresh air. I have never seen such a chilled lot. There were no queues, the immigration agents were friendly, no-one searched anything...it was so surreal, i was waiting for an immigration officer to pipe up, "surprise, gotcha!"

Once on Mozambiquan turf, i realised that people weren't joking about the road conditions. It wasn't so much that the roads were bad, more like, there weren't any roads to speak of, just car tracks in undulating sand-dune type terrain. Luckily the whole car ride was less than 15 mins to our accomodation, which was a lovely resort complete with a very tame baby monkey to greet you on arrival.

There were 8 of us, in total, on the trip and days weren't long enough to maximise on the great weather, chilli'd prawns and splashing about in sea. Speaking of the sea, i don't know why i thought i could calmly tread water without having to submerge my chemically straightened hair. That was wishful thinking, 'cause by wave number 4, all hope of keeping the hair dry was lost and i sported a frizzy type 'fro for the rest of the trip.

The only drawback were the mosquitos, no matter how much bug spray and lotion I smeared on myself, the little critters managed to find a random spot on my body that i didn't cover! It's been six days since i got back and i'm still itchy!!!!

Random confession: My random jaunt across the border highlighted my lack of travel on this fine continent of ours. It's extremely embarrassing to admit that i've covered more exotic destinations and haven't really checked out my own backyard, so to speak. So my mission going forward to check-off what i haven't seen of sub-Saharan Africa, which is a great big chunk!

Holla in the comments about your travelling experiences and any affordable holidaying recommendations!



I can be your what? Have you heard R Kelly's latest gem? Seriously, this man ka, he's cheeky. How do you get off singing about how you already have a lady who's number one in your life, but if i'm keen, you can squeeze me in as a Number 2???

Weak! What next...

Justin Beiber: Not sure why there's so much hype over this little fetus? He's a cutie-pie, yes...and he's black-owned (sitting on Usher's record label), but that still doesn't explain why he's been a trending topic for the last 4 months and counting. I also have a hankering suspicion that, that mop of hair/fringe is hiding a monster of a forehead, ka ka ka. Yeah i said it!

Waka waka bleugh: The official FIFA World Cup Anthem suuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks! Fellow Tweep @ZimBlackRose summed it up best when she said, and i quote, "it's horrible, kinda like baby talk mixed with sungura guitars."

Out of all the artists to have on the track, the choose Shakira? There are such better songs out there e.g. Jamali's "Mzansi", K'naan's "Wave your Flag", heck even "Make da circle beeeeegah gets my vote at this point!

What say you?


Happy Monday chickens!

I came across the following quote, it's speaking volumes to me at the moment:

"It is never too late to be what you may have been" - George Elliot

Lotsa love and hugs,

V x

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The Namesakes

With increasing frequency I’ve been receiving emails, facebook messages and friend requests that are clearly not meant for me. The senders in question send off correspondence with such confidence that sometimes I’m almost fooled into thinking I’m the intended recipient….but I am not.

This is what I get for having a generic email address that very susceptible to misunderstandings. I get on average 15 emails a month meant for countless Vimbai’s out there in the world, subject topics ranging from the amusing to the over familiar.

There’s also the minor hitch of sharing the same first name and surname of at least four other women currently wandering this earth. So many FB requests and messages come through from excited classmates, relatives, exes and colleagues of these Vimbai’s. I don’t get it, it’s not like I vaguely resemble any of them (yes, I’ve sussed them out).

Detailed below are outlines of my favourite “mistaken identity” correspondences meant for my various namesakes:

Vimbai the Mediator

This email had a gazillion family members CC’d. It looked like one of those newsletters meant to unite loved ones across the seas and keep them up to-date with family activities. The first paragraph of this email was dedicate to darling Vimbai who looked like she had been tasked with making right some family feud involving money lent by some now-disgruntled diasporan relative who was threatening some familial comeuppance of sorts.

I replied, to the sender only, to inform them that I wasn’t their target audience. Knowing the drama money issues can cause amongst blood relations, I could help but hope they get this drama resolved.

Vimbai the Witness

Eh, now this sender was on a mission. I received a FB friend request from a rather forward young lady informing me that since she had birthed so-and-so’s child, that we were now “family” come rain or shine.

Now interestingly enough, I recognised the name of so-and-so and realised that this young lady was reaching out to my namesake from a bloodline completely unrelated to mine. Fate would have it that one of my close friends is related to this particular namesake and branch of people carrying the same surname as I. I informed her of her cousin-in-law-of-sort’s desire to be recognised and the FB request, she proceeded to inform me that drama was going down with this baby mama and I was just one of many people who’d been contacted via FB.

I didn’t respond to the sender….i figured life for her was complicated enough without my tuning her she’d got the wrong person and maybe it wasn’t the best way around things to bombard prospective family members with FB messages *kanye shrug*

Vimbai the Planner

This Vimbai is based in Pretoria and running some sort of events management company or a bride-to-be arranging her wedding ‘cause all I ever get is catering quotes and tent hire quotes. She was, and probably is, a very busy lady.

Shout-out to all the ladies doing their own thing and being their own bosses!

Vimbai the Lover

By far my favourite “mistaken” correspondence is from a gentleman whose identity will remain anonymous, but for whom I feel for Smh*. In his email he’s literally begging for forgiveness from his lover Vimbai for various relationship misdemeanours. To the Zimbabwean readers, I’ve included excerpts of the email for your reading pleasure (I would translate it, but it wouldn’t be half as funny):

"Shars why saying things lyk that i din not say unonyadzisa kufamba newe.mudiwa wangu why uchhingofunga zvisina basa nyaya yemakore takataurirana tikanzwisisana inga wani shars...Inini ndini ndingatokunyadzisa bcoz I dnt dress to your standards as wat you said kuti im Junky. Anywa see you mutown darling idnt have option.MOYO WANGU WAKATORWA NEWE BABIE."

Now I got this email last Friday but only took a look at it yesterday, meaning that this gentleman may have wondering why his lady love wasn’t responding to him over the weekend. Eh, I informed him that he had got the wrong lady and wished him luck in all future romantic endeavours, lol.

Holla in the comments any mistaken identity drama you’ve been involved in.


The Cackle: Sunday morning I was woken up in the early hours by my laughing. I’ve heard of crying yourself awake, screaming yourself awake but laughing oneself awake isn’t as common as I would have hoped.

It wasn’t my first time either; I am repeat cackle-in-the-morning offender. The saddest part is that I don’t remember what was so laughicious in my dream, to begin with. A second after waking up i had it, and then *poof* it was gone like a fart in the wind.

Anyone else ever have this problem, or am I once again alone on this one, lol.

Ashiness no Vaseline can fix: So now Volcanoes and their ash have decided to make an appearance in 2010, not to be outdone by earthquakes and hurricanes.

Thing is, I can’t help but think that there is someone out there hoping to use The Ash debacle to their favour with excuses like, “I couldn’t make it work Boss, The Ash got out of control (mind you, this worker-bee resides in the southern hemisphere) or “Girl, I know I said I would call…but you this Ash situation, its just got me all confused, you know.”
The Dirty 30’s: Zimbabwe (aka Lady Z) turned the big 3-0 on Sunday with no real pomp or ceremony, probably ‘cause if we’re honest here, “independence” is a bit of a far-fetched concept not exactly applicable to this pretty lady, right now.

Lady Z experienced some rather tempestuous 20’s, during such time she found herself, lost herself, made new “friends” noone else was impressed with, lost old “friends” who turned out to be “friends” with ulterior motives. She has alienated herself and in doing so, pushed those who love her away.

She’s been rudely mocked and made the butt of countless jokes but those who love her, from near or far, defend her with all their might. Who are they to act like they know who she is, they have not known her for as long as we have, and they do not understand her background like those of us who have grown up with her. All they see is the dark times and dismiss the many years of light and laughter she has brought to us….so many good memories, which make the more recent dark ones that much easier to cope with.

Do not underestimate my Lady. Not all has been lost.

To those who have written her off, fellow natives and on-lookers alike, watch this space…the best is yet to come.
May peace prevail in your thoughts, on your lips and in your hearts chickens!


V x

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

It's not Me, it's You...or maybe it's Me, or You, or Me again

The longer we live on this earth, the more dysfunctional we become and the more dysfunctional our relationships become. In this day and age of email-this, bookface-that, cellphone-this and skype-that, we 21st century dwellers are spending an inordinate amount of time building, maintaining or ending relationships.

My mother used to shove John Donne's quote, "Man is not an island" down my throat when i was growing up. It was usually raised when she was talking about how aunt so-and-so where coming to visit and how i would be bed-less for two weeks and i would pipe up with some gem like, "don't they have someone else to visit besides us,." which would be swiftly followed by some part of my anatomy being slapped for such insolence (this happened often as i was a cheeky child, lol).

She would then go on and on about how important family (read: general loved ones) are and how we must remember that we don't live in a bubble and that the human condition is built on relationships blah blah blah.

I fear that my mother saw something in me, the very something she probably spent half my childhood trying to beat out of me, hehehe.

She saw the Relationship Fatalist in me. The "i'm done", "i really can't be bothered" or the (cue Brad Pitt's character Tristan from "Legends of the Fall" voice) "Once more, say it once more and you are no longer my brother/sister/teacher/boyfriend/friend/ice-cream vendor"....you get the idea right...

To Love, is to Trust, to Trust is to open yourself to some of life's most time-wasting human relationship dynamics. I have contributed to my fair share to these dynamics...oh how i have contributed *smh* and then there are times i have been on the receiving end of some mind-boggling and just plain cruel tom-foolery.

Now life can become an pretty lonely place if you keep axing people left, right and centre. Now don't get me wrong, some fish definitely need to be returned to the sea...for good, if you get my drift. However, most of the time, a big chunk of time in fact, that which has been misconstrued, broken, abused and taken for granted can be fixed. Should be fixed.

This is definitely one of the better after-effects of getting older; being able to stare down the elephant in one's big fat ego :-)



Shake, rattle and roll: This earthquake every week few days business is gone from worrying to ?!?!?. This is not normal. This cannot be normal. Yet, nobody has a real answer. Very suspect.

WiCKED: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I may get to see the Broadway play, "WiCKED" in three weeks time. As the BIGGEST Wizard of Oz fan ever....EVER, WiCKED is the prequel to that particular story. I've heard nothing but fabulous reviews about this show *sigh* i'm such a dork, lol.

"Don't Touch My Studio": Guys, the way people are abusing this phrase is killing me! I watched the clip (Youtube it, if you're still confused about what i'm talking about), have heard the House music mixes for it, this statement has gone viral. Now to take it global!

Zuda's: Have been talking people off the ledge on Twitter, threating to pull an Amber Rose. With Solange followed suit and now Chrisette Michele having takent the plunge, the future trend seems to involve hairless noggins.

I envy anyone who can go bald and look hot...some of us have all sorts of dents and corners going-on that it's best not to dwelve into that terrain. For those northern hemisphere dwellers thinking of giving it ago, i wish you well, for those of you frolicking in the southern hemisphere, might i suggest you wait until winter is thoroughly done before you embark on such a hair-raising (hehehe) missions.

The Aidan vs BIG debate: In a display of some severe delayed action, i am only watching Sex in The City episodes. I don't remember getting in line for this particular bandwagon, but i guess i'm getting an inkling to why women went gaga over this show. Granted, fashion wise the episodes are all a little out-dated (the 90's are challenging the 80's for the "dodgy fashion era" award) but that's what we have movies for.

Now during my catch-up sessions, the Aidan vs BIG debate makes more sense. The age-old question of whether, "nice guys finish last" and if women have made too much of a deal about"settling".

Comments: This is really random but have you guys ever read mainstream news articles on CNN and seen the comments left there by people! Guys, there are some TWISTED individuals. Beats me why CNN has opened such pieces to the general public to express their opinion, but eish, i believe in this particular case that the world's two cents is quite unwarranted...entertaining but not necessary!


Hope you're revelling in what's left of your hump day chickens!

Be good and holla in the comments.


V x

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Imma Be....

Imma be Less Na├»ve: Until the early hours of Sunday morning, I didn’t actually know who Eugene Terreblanch was. I didn’t know there was a pretty large Neo-Nazi following in the North-West Province of South Africa. Then again, I’m not exactly going out of my way to find out more information about resident white supremacists and for some reason, I though that “associations” like those belonged in dirty south of North America and icy terrains of Russia. Guess I was wrong then.

Hasn’t history shown us on numerous occasions that pulling the, “we’re the chosen ones” or ‘we’re the entitled ones” card is a downward slippery slope into the hallows of some sort of ethnic cleansing?

Back to the Eugene character, fair enough, he was murdered and that’s not something to be taken lightly. The taking of life is no laughing matter people. However, the irony at the end of the day is this is a man who communicated and promoted violence and turmoil, so is at all surprising that that was the way he left this earth?

He’s The Maker’s problem now.

*smh* Swastika’s, nothing good ever came out of that emblem.

Love and Peace people, Love and Peace.

Imma be More Expensive: No, this does not mean expensive in the literal sense, i.e. the monetary/high maintenance one, but more in the sub-Saharan expression meaning “to be scarcer”. For example, I would say, “Shonavixen has been so expensive these days, judging by the frequency of her blog posts” - *ahem*, that was just a “hypothetical scenario, hehehe.

Now that the Lenten period is over, it showed me that in order to focus my energies on more character building activities; I would have to cut-back on some things that don’t require my constant input or people that are more options than priority individuals. It sucks, but during my 40 day hiatus, I realised that something had to give!

Imma be Drake's Numero Uno Fan: It’s possible I’ve been living under a rock for the past year, but I know that’s not it. It’s more a case of people creating mad hype about a thing or a person that inadvertently puts me off the thing or person. Classic current example being that iPad thingy-majig *eye roll*

“This album’s for my fans, but yo this hook is for my exes.” – Replacement Girl

Anywho, as the age old saying goes, where there’s smoke there’s fire and let’s just say, I’m burning up here. I got my hands on his two mixtapes, from the most unlikely source ever, and it’s be bliss ever since. He’s a lyrical savant, I love me a quotable lyricist, and this boy covers a range of topics from the sensitive to the mucho to the comedic, he covers the all. He’s made it easy to like him. Very easy.

“If Hov is Jordan, I guess I’m cool with Pippen.” – Going in for Life

Holla your, “Imma be” statements in the comments!


Alright chickens, enjoy the last few days of the week and stay blessed!


V x

Monday, March 29, 2010

Window seat, please!

There’s nothing like clutching one’s boarding pass, getting on a plane and somewhere between take-off and the pinging and flashing of the “seat-belts” realising you’re travelling in a hunk of metal in the sky…

In THE SKY!!!!

This is round about the time when the soles of feet get real sweaty and l start plotting my exit strategy. Yes chickens, I plot exit strategies in THE SKY, anything from the more practical, “Errr, Vim there’s no exit strategy, you’re in THE SKY remember” to the, “So Edward from Twilight will come flying in and save me before the plane plunges to its doom.”

Given my various anxieties about airborne travel, nothing makes me more anxious than getting allocated the middle seat…nothing. Experience has taught me that nothing good can come out of being squished between two people in THE SKY. It’s all rather awkward, starting from the age-old debate of “Where exactly am I meant to place my arms if Tweedledee and Tweedledum are monopolising the arm rests” to the “I really want to sleep and now I can’t, ‘cause I will definitely end up trying to nuzzle down on one of these fools.” Lets not forget how sitting in the middle seat encourages people, on both sides, to engage you in meaningless conversation ranging from how Aunt Lydia’s hip replacement went to how Africa has changed their lives *cue eye-roll*.

My perfect seating set-up in a plane, aside from cruising in my very own Lear Jet with a personal masseuse, involves the middle seat being left vacant and me occupying the window seat…and the seats in-front and behind me, being vacant. This has never happened to me, but I live in hope. I have a feeling there will be a higher probability of this occuring once I upgrade from Cattle Class.

Aisle seats only make sense over long-haul flights, all that leg-room is quite necessary, however, for regional flights in sub-Saharan Africa you’d do well to stay well away from the aisle, ‘cause some of those air hostesses’ hips don’t lie. The few times I’ve been seated in that location, my shoulder and head have been taken out by some larger-than-life booties :-)

For your reading pleasure, i have compiled a brief list of my all-time greatest Flying Pet Peeves:

B.O. - Come on man, some daily bodily contact with water and soap isn’t so hard.

Miss Congeniality - So pretty and so damn nice, those air hostesses and stewards get on my last nerve. Yes, I’m hating. I wish I could look so poised 33,000ft in THE SKY.

Crap in-flight entertainment - Nothing to this day can top the screening of a Steven Seagal movie on an Air Zim flight to the East. It was priceless. It felt like I was catching a blockbuster in1993, when in fact it was 2005 *smh*

Almost Doesn’t Count: Never having got the opportunity to sit next to a bonafide hottie irks me to high heaven. I have a theory that I’ve been wanting to put to the test, it involves the theory that being seated up close and personal to eye-candy will alleviate my flying anxieties, hehehe.

Holla your flying peeves in the comments!


Lent is nearly over and I’m quite relieved about it. I’ve been accused, by many, of being out of the loop with reality and pop-culture due to my spiritual-hiatus away from Bookface and Twitter. I don’t know why they think I would be more clued-up on things like Michael Douglas starring in Wall Street 2 or recent terrorist attacks in Russia? That's not the kind of information you get on social networking sites. FB and Twitter would more than likely inform me of birthdays, break-ups or the bravado of die-hard [Insert English Premier League team name] fans …*sigh*, I’ve missed it all :-)

Random list of things making me smile:

Realising I still know ALL the words to MC Lyte’s rap in, “Keep on, keep, keeping on” and Coolio’s “Gangsta Paradise”

Zebra’s. Don’t ask. I just think they’re gorgeous.

Barack getting his Healthcare Bill passed. The resistant he met with, you’d think the man was making it mandatory for all Americans to consume liquid mercury!

People trying to make sense of Lady Gaga’s “Telephone” video. Quit while you're still ahead.

It being 71 Days till The FIFA World Cup, it’s going to be schweeeeeeeeeeeet.

Julius Malema heading to Zimbabwe to support Zim in its quest for economic independence *DEAD*. This man is a walking comedy, to say the least.

Mad Men: Why didn’t anyone tell me about this show sooner. That Don Draper, mmmmmh, he does things to me.


Enjoy your four day working week chickens.

Reach out and spread the Love,

V x

Monday, March 08, 2010

The End is Nigh

In the second week of the third month of the second decade of the (errrrrr) not-so-new millennium, it is with a heavy heart that I must share what is fast becoming obvious.

The world is doomed.


How did my clever self figure this out? No, I did not decipher The Book of Revelations or Nostradamus’s vague scribblings. No siree. The signs where more subtle than that and yet, they were all around us.

I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong again.

Earthquakes didn’t factor into my deductions. True, it was impossible not to notice Haiti, Chile, Taiwan, Sumatra and Turkey succumbing to Mother Earth’s severe indigestion (and that fool meteorologist at CNN wants us to believe that none of those ‘quakes are related, *side eye*) and yet, that wasn’t it either.

Ladies and Gents, believe it or not, the omen of the world’s impending end came from none other than the South African edition of Elle magazine, the March 2010 edition.

Yes, they’re back! I’m so very sorry chickens, sooooooooooooooo sorry!

Crikey Moses! Who let these things come back? Shoulder pads…really, COME ON!!!!! The ‘80’s was one fashion faux pas after another, but shoulder-pads are its crowning monstrosity!

When I think of shoulder-pads the following come to mind (all at once too):

- Janet Jackson performing those geometric perfect moves in her Rhythm Nation video;
- Joan Collin’s character in Dynasty decking it out with her blonde nemesis for the charms of some old rich dude - the higher and sharper the shoulder-pads, the more alpha and dominant is the respective female;
- 80's Top of the Pops playing Tiffany’s. “I think we’re alone now”;
- Thriller ( I swear MJ was sporting shoulder pads under that signature red jacket of his); and
- Vultures - their bony, high raised wings definitely give a shoulder-pad effect.

It’s bad enough they bring back those damned harem pants back, but now this!!!! Do these people have no shame *smh*

New lows have been reached, hence my assumption that it’s a wrap!

Holla in the comments, what you believe has been mankind’s biggest fashion faux pas to date (don’t hold back now)


Speaking of the world ending:

Wow, the economy may well be in recovery mode but the people are definitely not in a light hearted mood. In the past weeks I’ve found myself immersed in all things apocalyptic ‘cause it seems to be de rigeur to expect the worst:

Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” – If you can get past the fact that this book has NO punctuation whatsoever, is an extremely short read and the reader never really gets the full story of why the earth has come to the state that it’s in, you’ll be impressed by it simplicity and its poignancy. It’s a book about core human values and survival of the fittest. As bloody morbid and gory as it is, I couldn’t put it down. Have any of you watched the movie?

The Book of Eli – The uber-cool Denzel Washington dominates this movie based on, once again, the world after civilisation has literally taken a hit. He’s on a quest to the West and trust me, nothing’s getting in the way. Just like in “The Road” the common themes of scavengers, cannibalism and morality ring clear.

Mmmmmh, the world needs a SERIOUS hug at this rate :-S

Keeping it Light:

I managed to dilute the abysmal feeling of doom caused by the above movie and book choices with the following:

Karyn Stockett’s “The Help”: Based on black maids personal experiences at the hands of their "madams" in then segregated Mississippi during the ‘60’s. it’s the whistleblower of all whistleblowers. The stories are hilarious, sad and heartfelt.

Golf: I’m a natural. Of course I am, never doubted it for a second. How could I not excel at a sport that encourages me to hit an obstacle as hard as I can, and rewards me for it.

Mr Darcy: I finally have my very own copy of BBC’s version of “Pride and Prejudice.” Don’t speak to me of that appalling version with that Keira Knightley person, we shall not speak of it. Instead, I get to drool over Mr D. and root for the underdog *sigh*

George Wilson: He plays American Football (which I don’t understand) and I didn’t know about him this time last week. But thanks to generosity of a fellow blogger *cough* K, this yummy specimen has been plucked out of obscurity. Go over to her blog, if you're wondering what i'm talking about.


Be kind to yourselves, chickens!


V x

Monday, February 22, 2010

Make the Circle Bigger!

Nothing like finding out that your co-workers know about your blog, to give one a temporary case of writer's block. Smashing really. At least that explains all the 'hey vim from zim" greetings in the elevator, lol.

Awww well, the show will definitely go on *big grin*

So last week i got some great news, i found out two things:

1) That i would finally get to see on of my favourite artists, live in concert (brownie points if you figure out who i'm talking about); and

2) I will actually get to see a FIFA World Cup game over June so i can tell my future grand kiddies, "i was there."

After doing a victory dance and declaring my good news to all and sundry it suddenly dawned on me that i need to start revising my bucket list 'cause things are getting ticked off real quick. Before i saw Jigga in concert, that's the only person i REALLY wanted to see...his performance was well worth the wait (thinking about it still gives me goosebumps) but then, it too passed and i had to find another "person i REALLY wanted to see". Come May this year, i will find myself in the same cycle...and quite frankly i am running out of "people i really want to see" here.

Then there is whole maybe-its-better-not-to-fulfil-some-bucket-list-items: e.g. A few weeks back a whole lot of Aussie folk i know where raving about how awesome Lauryn Hill was in a recent Oz concert she supposedly rocked. I found this really hard to believe. You see, Ms Hill was on my bucket list...i saw her in concert..... she sucked serious a*s and i still wish i could un-watch that concert and put her back on the list. Anti-climax doesn't even begin to describe it!

Holla in the comments any bucket-list staples or scenarios you wished you hadn't ticked off


Day Six: So like the lovely K, i am partaking in the lenten practices as a good catholic girls should. Amongst the many spiritual endeavours i'm hoping to address this lenten period, i ambitiously gave up Bookface and Twitter.

We are definitely in the 21st century when social networking sites rank higher than a bar of chocolate on the list of people's tempations and addictions. But there you have it, it's a sign of the times.

Over the weekend i was quick to profess (loudly even) that i wasn't coping well. I just wanted to "know", when asked, "know what?", i was quick to retort, "anything and everything." That's when it hit me that this Lenten period and social network site hiatus were definitely good things. I've been unconciously dedicating more and more of my time to activities that really don't add value in the long run.

Now don't get me wrong, FB is great for keeping in touch with family and actual friends around the world. Twitter is great for get on-the-ground reports about life-changing incidences. Thing is, if you are camped out on these sites, pre-empting messages and the like, 'tis time to take a deep breath and reconnect with the real world.

I'm all about the need for serious information filters, they definitely help you refocus on the necessary.

Having said that....i'm still going through serious withdrawal symptoms! Anyone feel like clueing me up on what today's Trending Topics are, la la la.

Happy Monday chickens....one day to get through, four to go!


V x