I’ve always wondered … what defines sexy? In my mind, the sexiest thing on a girl is a leso. I don’t mean those fancy things stitched into dresses. I mean a simple khanga draped across your bustline like a towel.

A true leso is see-through, it’s worn off the shoulder, it drapes well, it shows the right curves [and hides all the wrong ones … I mean … it’s hard to see tyres or a pot belly through a khanga] It’s easy to take off, and sometimes, you don’t have to take it off at all. It’s kind of like walking in a towel … except it’s not. That’s what makes it so hot. Plus … you can do wonders by absent-mindedly adjusting it. And it’s sort of the same principle as a strapless dress, so go figure.

On a guy? Jeans. Duh! [No blazers please!!] Don’t ask me what makes jeans so sexy – I have no clue. But I have theory about girls. I think what makes a girl’s dress sexy is the access. If your wear something that is easy to take off, it makes a guy’s mind wander. And that, I think, is sexy.

This doesn’t explain spandex or mini skirts. I guess their appeal is far more overt. You can see what you want to see, so it’s clear where your mind will go. But access still beats eyecandy.

Picture this dress by Victoria Beckham. It’s a figure hugging dress with a bow at the top. Now I don’t know how that works, but it made me think of laces. I kept thinking if you tug that bow, the dress will come apart and simply slip down to her feet. I’m assuming any guy thinking like that would find her dress extremely hot.

Then you have those tops with pop-off buttons, or shirts that are ripped up at the front like the girl in that M-net ad. She has a really nasty weave, but I bet that orange top has a few guys thinking naughty thoughts … like how easy it would be to tug the wispy fabric and spill everything out, no? Spanish tops and strapless things are just the same. They have elastic shoulders [or no shoulder seams at all], so you access things from top and bottom. Nice. Fitting t-shirts have the same appeal. They show off all your nice bits and they’r easy to sneak under.

According to my dictionary, sexy things make you think of the bedroom. Unless of course it’s a sexy phone or iPod. I have no idea how that one works. Takes kinky to a whole new level if you ask me. Still, the fourth definition of sexy says, ‘exciting and interesting,’ so yeah.

In my case, anything can be sexy from cartoon characters to vocal chords, and I don’t mean interesting and exciting. I guess my mind is just weird like that. For instance, I find glasses extremely sexy. And don’t ask me why – it’s not anything kinky. I also have a thing for good handwriting.

There are people that confuse you. They walk into a room and your mind switches off. You don’t know what it is about them, but you would shag them in broad daylight and you wouldn’t even know it. They’re not usually stunning people, and they’re not showing that much skin. There’s just something about them. I guess it’s the X factor, or maybe they have some odd sexiness gene. Put a person like that in jeans or ripped shirt and wow. Fireworks.

 

Sometimes, the person doesn’t know they’re like that, but mostly, they just hide it really well. You can’t be that hot and not know it. Eventually, it will dawn on you that strangers offer cows for a reason.

It’s awesome to wield that kind of power, but it’s sad too – a little. When you’re that hot or fly or beautiful, it’s hard for people to look past it. It’s hard to find someone that sees what’s inside – on a non-horizontal level. And it’s hard to know if someone loves you for you, or if they’re simply swimming in your pheromones.

♫ Now comes the night ♫ Rob Thomas ♫

I read this post on songs and smiled. I’m not brave enough to ask what mine is, but I know a kindred spirit when I see one. I give songs to people too, though mostly they’re for boys I love.

Song Number 1. ♫ Sitting up in my room ♫ Brandy ♫

This one borders on pathetic, but hey. He was the longest crush I ever had. Loved him since I was 3. In high school, I told people I would marry him, and made my room mate teach me his language. To date, I can count to ten in Kao, goofy accent notwithstanding. I can also ask for water … because … you know … it’s important to ask for water.

I stalked him for years. I’d sit in my bedroom window and watch him play basketball. I even wrote a poem about it. It was called Sitting up in my room, and the second line was ‘overcome with gloom.’ The third line ended with window, and the fourth ended with ‘face aglow‘. What. I was 12 years old and it rhymed. Thank God I discovered free verse.

I wrote him a love letter at 16. It went on and on for 6 pages and ended with:

He didn’t reply, so I called him up from a phone booth. It was dark and cold and I had to queue for quite a while. Each time I got to the front of the line, I let people pass me. I was scared, and this was a private conversation. I didn’t want anyone to hear. Also, there were no cellphones back then.

The booth was on top of a concrete hill so there was this gorgeous view of town at night. While I waited, I watched the moon rise and wrote a poem in my head. It was beautiful. Finally, I manned up, ignored the line behind me, and made the call. I tried to talk quietly to avoid eavesdroppers … and he asked why I was whispering. Then … after all that … he said no.

I saw him a few months back. I grew taller than him at some point, and he’s quite the player now. Also, he smokes. I don’t kiss smokers. Bad breath. He drinks, and some find that amusing. They say that he’s a really fun drunk.

He’s still charming, and easy to talk to. All the girls were flirting with him, so I stood to the side and watched him. I didn’t want to look like a groupie. I watched him, and I wondered.   I wondered about the times when my heart froze in his presence. I wondered why I had wanted him so long. I wondered why all those years ago, he didn’t want me. I wondered about his girl. A part of me is glad, because looking at his girl, I knew one thing for sure. 15 years later, I don’t want to be her.

Song Number 2. ♫ What can I do ♫ The Corrs ♫

Oh this was one was sad. Really sad. He was one of those musical types. Prodigial genius. He could do piano, sax, silimba, guitar, everything. He would sit in the music room and play Boyz II Men, and I would swoon! Of course he never knew that I was listening. He only played the piano when he thought no one was listening.

He had a smile that could melt ice caps! Sadly, he was the moody type, so we rarely saw that smile. And he had this one sweatshirt that he’d wear every day for weeks, with no t-shirt inside. That was scary.

There are two different recordings of that song. I’d hear the acapella version when he ignored me, and the guitar version on the days I saw him smile. I’d hear it even though the smile was meant for someone else. We shared classes and exams, and were paired up for assignments, but he never said one word to me. Not even, ‘Pass the drum stick.’

I borrowed his notes once, and put a poem in them. He didn’t react. Pity, it was a really good poem. It will probably earn me money someday.

Song Number 3. ♫ Fix you ♫ Coldplay ♫

He was my prince charming. He was everything I wanted and more. I had a list of 100 things I wanted in a guy, and he was 95 of them. He was tall and shy and sweet, he bought me pizza and drove me home when it was late. He liked to read, he loved to cuddle, and his bedroom skills were phenomenal.

I still wonder about him sometimes. I wonder why I wasn’t good enough. Still, I saw a tweet that put it well. Sometimes, the person you fall for isn’t quite ready to catch you.

Whenever I hear Coldplay, it’s his face that I see. He called it slit-your-wrists-music, even though it speaks to the soul. But sometimes when I think of him, the memories are gentle. At times like that, I hear a different song, like Katie Perry’s Hot & Cold, or Metro Station’s Shake it.

Somewhere inside me, I knew it wouldn’t work, and I know the exact moment when it happened. We were just done making love, he was singing Kenny Rogers, and I was thinking, ‘You are so old.’ I’m amused that I can smile as I recall that.

There’s another song by Coldplay – Swallowed in the sea. Both songs have instrumental interludes. I describe them as orgasmic, and I once said if a man could make you feel like that for ten minutes straight, you would die. Well … it was a lot more than ten minutes … and I didn’t die … still, he’s the best I ever had. Ab-so-lute best. And I can say that because I’m never getting married, so there’s no one to complain about it *grin*

Plus, he taught me to how play by myself, so he’s a gift that kept on giving after he was gone. Long after he was gone. For that, I am forever grateful.

Song Number 4. ♫ When I see you ♫ Fantasia ♫

I’ve never liked a boy like I liked this one. He made me smile and he made me cry. He also made me giggle, and that’s saying a lot. When I was with him, I felt special, and for the first time in ages, I felt beautiful. He’d get this look in his eyes sometimes and I’d just know that he wanted me. It’s an amazing feeling.

His eyes would light up when he talked about stuff, and one of my favourite things was just sitting and watching him speak. I can never hear the phrase ‘right now’ without thinking of him. The way he said those two little words will stay with me forever.

He was the easiest person in the world to be with. I’ve never been as comfortable with anyone as I was with him. Sitting next to him felt just like being home. It didn’t matter whether we were in a restaurant, in a car, on a sofa, or on a patch of grass. As long as he was near me, I was right where I belonged.

The day he left me, I got so drunk that I threw up. Never done that before, and haven’t done it since. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Being with him was good. Too good. Things that are that good aren’t built to last.

Song Number 5. ♫ Dreams ♫ Boyz II Men ♫

That one was special. It was a song for my first time, even though it wasn’t actually playing at the time. Instead, we used Soweto String Quartet. I was so in love back then. Now when I hear the song, I stare blankly, hit skip, or fast forward. I had it on tape for a while, but I think I threw the tape away. Shame, it was a pretty cool song. Of course he got a different song later … mwehehe. I can’t listen to Ray C without thinking of him. So if you hear some serious soul and jathba when I sing Umenikataa, well, now you know why.

Song Number 6. ♫ Already gone ♫ Kelly Clarkson ♫

This one was funny. Initially, he had a different song – All Messed Up by Breaking Point. He quoted the lyrics to me, and I sighed and said that was a sweet thing to say. He laughed and said he was simply singing a song. I recovered fairly fast and the awkward moment passed. I loved that about him. He would take my awkward moments and somehow make me laugh, which was good, because we had a lot of awkward moments.

I was never embarrassed around him. I loved him long before he loved me, and eventually, he loved me back … for a while. Then I lost him, just by being me. But of all the men I’ve loved, he’s the only one that stays a true friend.

I heard the Kelly Clarkson song in a mat once, and it stuck with me. When I found it on my hard drive, I listened to it nonstop for two days straight. I didn’t know why, but it haunted me, and I knew it was for my Sailor. We were perfectly okay at the the time, but at some intrinsic level, I knew that I would lose him soon, so I’d listen to the song and cry.

On the night we broke up, I played the song for hours and fell asleep crying. I still think of him when I hear it, and it gives me this still sadness. But it’s a hopeful sadness because even though he’s no longer my love, I still call him my friend.

Song Number 7. ♫ Cable car (Over my head) ♫ The Fray ♫

I added this paragraph two weeks later. I was thinking about him, and I was sad that he didn’t have his own song. I was sad that he’d caused me so much pain and he didn’t even know it. I was angry at myself, because the whole thing is irrational with no logic. Then this song started playing in my headphones, and I just knew it was his song. Someday, when it hurts a little less and makes much more sense, I’ll come back and finish up his story. I wonder if I’ll remember who it was about.

Song Number 8. ♫ Again ♫ Lenny Kravitz

I knew this boy for all of five minutes. He was tall, light, and hot. He had a deep voice and curly hair. For the entire time that I knew him, he was wearing a baseball cap. Did I mention I have a fetish for baseball caps? And glasses. I have a fetish for glasses. Daniel doesn’t wear glasses, but he smelt heavenly. Ab-so-lute-ly heavenly.

I met him at a seminar for Peak Performance. The age bracket was 16 to 19 … and I was almost 20. I felt so old. The seminar was for troubled teens, and my ‘classmates’ had issues like … well … there was this one girl who had locked herself in her room for so long that her parents got screwdrivers and took off the hinges. Me, I was sent there because I was moody. And I shared my room with my cousin and three brothers, so we had no hinges to attack.

I didn’t talk to Daniel, even though the seminar lasted two whole days. I was way too shy. Plus I felt fat, and I had compete with all these nubile types with phones and cars. I did walk within two inches of him once. He was wearing this shirt with blue flames,  and he was sitting in the stairway so I had to literally jump over him. I was sure I would trip. But I pretended like he wasn’t even there. Then I went over to the corner where the other girls were staring and giggled and drooled over how close I had come. Did I mention the boy was 16?

I had this one friend at the seminar, we really bonded, but for the life of me, I can’t remember her name. She got to spend hours with Daniel one time, because both their parents were late. How I hated her! And this other girl got to sit next to him during one session. We were told to massage the person next to us then reverse and repeat. I could have killed her with my eyes.

I never saw Daniel after that two-day seminar, and I’m not sure I’d recognize him if I did. I didn’t learn much from the seminar because I spent most of it drooling at that tall little boy. I haven’t thought about him in years, but I just re-watched Coyote Ugly and he sprung to mind. The movie was played in the first half hour of the seminar, and before it started, Lenny Cravitz was playing in the background. Out of a crowd pf 50 people, he’s the only one that was singing along. Apart from me, of course. Except I was doing it in my head and he was doing it out loud. That’s how it became his song. I wonder where he is now. With any luck, he probably developed a really bad case of TCS.

Song Number 9. ♫ Ships in the night ♫ Mat Kearney ♫

When I started this list, I had a vague idea that I’d update it sometimes, but I didn’t know quite how far it would go. I found this song a few weeks ago and automatically assigned it to him. He was a very special person in my life. For over a year, we talked three or four times a day – always on email of course. We met via blogs, and he always made me smile. He convinced me to go to the first rave in my life, and while I didn’t much enjoy it, I love him for giving me that first. I actually played with the idea of having a baby with him – I’m not entirely sure why. It had never happened before, and the feeling was quite unsettling.

One day, I decided to thank him for making me so happy, and we were inseparable after that. There was just one problem – he didn’t seem to know I was a girl! I watched as he dawdled from one lousy relationship to the next, and I was always there to help pick up the pieces – dissecting what went wrong, teaching him lessons for the next girl, and hoping that one day, he’d look up, see me holding his hand, and realise he belonged with me. Didn’t happen. He knew how I felt – I’d told him about a hundred times.  But it simply wasn’t mutual. He saw me more like a loud, cheeky kid sister I guess. He did help me switch careers though, and he’s still  a deeply valued friend. And he got me through some boy trouble of my own, so I guess we’re sort of even, in a  way.

I attended his wedding a short while back, and it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sitting and watching him dance with his bride, I had to hide and cry. I saw how happy they were and realised why I never stood a chance, so I went to the gift table, handed over  the pretty glass vase I’d bought them, snuck out of the party, and walked quietly home.

Song Number 10. ♫ Promises promises ♫ Incubus ♫

I first heard this song at 8.00 p.m. on a Thursday night. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Thursday, but it sounded good in my head. I was actually on the murram road that leads to my flat, and I was strolling home after work, thinking about him. I remember liking the guitars and the chorus, then later as I heard the lyrics in the verses, the song seemed to be all about him. See, he’s my first truly forbidden love, and I adored him in silence for years before either of us said anything.

♫ I’m a fan of yours and I need a good mistake. ♫

I still have no clue how things will turn out. Sometimes I want to give up and walk away, because I know that this is wrong. But it’s so much easier to have him and love him and see where things go.

♫ I’m on the road of least resistance. I’d rather give up than give in to this. ♫

♫ So promise me only one thing, would you? Just don’t ever make me promises. ♫

I tell myself I’ll be fine as long as I don’t expect anything. No promises, right? He’s a pretty easy-going type, so he prefers not to think about the consequences. It’s too much work, he says, and we’ll deal with them as they come. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? His attitude is kind of contagious that way, so whenever he pops into my mind, I can’t help smiling as I sing.

♫ I’ve never done this before, promises, promises. ♫

♫ But I’m enjoying the illusion and the things my body says. ♫

♫ Now you see me, now you don’t, oh how well you disappear. ♫

♫ What are you running from, and may I interfere? ♫

♫♫♫♫♫

Song Number 11. ♫ For the first time ♫ The Script ♫

♫ But we’re gonna start by ♫

♫ Drinking old cheap bottles of wine ♫

♫ Sit talking up all night ♫

♫ Saying things we haven’t for a while ♫

♫ A while yeah ♫

♫ We’re smiling but we’re close tears ♫

♫ Even after all these years ♫

♫ We just now got the feeling that we’re meeting for the first time ♫

I’m not really sure why I picked this song for him. Maybe it’s because on our first date, we stayed up all night. We just sat there, drinking wine and telling secrets. It was beautiful. But when I thought about it later, I felt sad. I didn’t see how a pretty boy like that could look at me. I knew that he’d stop looking soon – real soon – and it made me want to cry. But when I told him, he just smiled, gave me a soft little kiss, and made all the sadness go away. This is a feeling I’ll hold on to for a long, long, long time.

Song Number 12. ♫ Lie to me ♫ 12 Stones ♫

The day after I met this boy and had the best date ever, I heard this song, and I couldn’t stop playing it. It was almost a prelude of me and him. I felt the same strong foreboding that marked a previous lost love, and I knew that this man was gone before I’d started to fully enjoy him.

♫ You said you were there for me ♫

♫ You wouldn’t let me fall ♫

♫ All the times I shared with you ♫

♫ Were you even there at all? ♫

♫ Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide ♫

♫ You’re scared of the truth, I’m tired of the lies ♫

♫ Coz who I am, is where you wanna be ♫

 

At that point, I had only spent one day with him, and we had clicked in every possible way. He made me feel that it was okay to just be me, that it was good to be just me. In fact he told me it was awesome to be just me. And then he pulled away. I didn’t know why he did it at the time. It felt like he was afraid of what we could become, just like the song, and as I sat there staring at my phone and puzzling it over, this song began to play and I knew we were over before we had even began. And all I could do was play the song and cry.

♫ Why’d you have to up and run away ♫

♫ A million miles away ♫

♫ I wanna close my eyes and make believe ♫

♫ That I never found you ♫

♫ Just when I put my guard away ♫

♫ It’s the same old story ♫

 

♫ You left me broken and betrayed ♫

♫ It’s the same old story ♫

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫

Song Number 13. ♫ Everything ♫ Alanis Morissette ♫

It took me a long time to find this song, and to find the person to whom it belongs. I had the song on my iPod for years, and for some reason, I kept skipping it, so I’d never listened to the words. Kind of like him. He’s been in my life for the longest time, but somehow we never quite synchronized. We walked away from each other so many times, but somehow we always found our way back.

When I listened to the lyrics of this song for the first time, I thought about how sweet it would be to have a man like that in my life. Then I smiled, because I already do. He has seen the best of me, and the absolute worst. I’ve been madder at him than at anyone else, and he’s been the same with me. And yet … he’s still here. I’m going to lose him to the mother of his child one day, but a part of him will always be mine, and for now, he’s still here.

Song Number 14. ♫ No parade ♫ Jordin Sparks ♫

This one hurt. A lot. I thought he would marry me. He said he would marry me, that I was his missing rib. Corny, I know, but he was always saying things like that. And the sad thing is … I believed him. It took a while, but I pulled down all my walls and believed him.

I always told him he was too good to be true, and that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The sad thing is .. it wasn’t until I stopped looking for it that it finally did. When I first heard this song, it spoke to me, but I dismissed the thought. I was in such a happy space that I didn’t believe misery could ever find me. Until it did. I miss him. I’m probably always going to miss him.

♫ Just another day like any other ♫

♫ Nothing in the sky said run for cover ♫

♫ Just another reason ♫

♫Never thought it would end this way ♫

♫ There was no parade ♫

♫ No lights flashing ♫

♫ No songs to sing along the way ♫

♫♫♫♫♫

Song Number 15. Try me ♫ Jason Darulo Ft J-Lo & Matoma ♫

When I first heard this song, I’d only known him a few weeks. He was barely legal. Pretty as fuck. And soooooo smart. I met him on Craigslist. Wasn’t planning to get serious, but he talked me into it. Such a sweet boy. But way too young, and not nearly enough of … anything. Probably the only boy I’ve loved that actively read my blog.

Why is it his song? Well duh! Hot older woman, pretty younger man, catchy pop beat. I generally hate his taste in music, but he did bring me a few gems. And he taught me some stuff about myself, not all of it good. Got me back in therapy too.

I know exactly what went wrong, and whose fault it was, but I guess it couldn’t really be helped. The thing just had no legs. I do miss him though. He made me happy, for a little while. And I hope he finds his princess someday. I suspect he already did.

 

 Song Number 16. Bleeding Out ♫ Imagine Dragons ♫

I found this song last night but didn’t really listen until this morning. When I did, it was all him. He’s been in my life a few months, but I feel like I’ve known him all my life. We’re a storybook really, a bad sitcom. Two people who are crazy about each other but will never get together coz they’re scared to fuck it up.

So instead, he’s my best friend. Forever. That last part comes from my daughter. She likes to call him my BFF, and she adores him almost as much as I do, probably because I’m not sleeping with him. Makes him less of a threat to my relationship with her, and to the status of my heart. She’s mad protective, my daughter.

But it’s all good because if there’s one thing he and I agree on, it’s that we’d make a lousy couple. We’re just not built for it. And we’re not ready for it. We might get together eventually, when we’re in our sixties and can’t get it on without viagra and coconut oil. And I’d have to go a little Anastacia to make him happy so … shudder.

He’s introduced me to voices and vices. Deezer. Strong Beer. And C is for Commando. I love him. He’s he’s the only person I can let my guard down with. But I am bleeding for him. He’s NOT my latest project or my stray. He’s my person. Every day he battles his demons, and every day, I take collateral damage. I hope he saves himself … because I’m not giving up on him, and if he doesn’t get his shit together, he’ll drag me down with him, and I won’t even fight it.

 

♫♫♫♫♫

Not all the boys in my life get songs. Some just get poems, while others become leading men in my novels. These guys will make me rich some day. Sometimes, I think about the one boy made me consider having [another] baby, but I know it will never be mutual.  He’s married to someone else now, and I’m happy for them both. But I’ve made it a point to never bump into his wife or be formally introduced. Seeing them together at their wedding, I knew I was a bad fit. Besides, he’s ideal dad material, and I’m done with world population *cheeky grin*

A song that I’m feeling right now is Guitar Song by Texas. I’ve always liked the sound, but I didn’t hear the words until last night. I’ve finally accepted I’m not the marrying kind, but I’d like to find a man to go with it. I want to settle with my best friend. No rings, no fuss, no in-laws, just love, respect, and lots of cuddles. Some sex would be good too – daily, unkinky, and in large volumes.

But I don’t want that yet … not for a long time. I have too much to do before then. I need a house, and a car, and some schooling from my baby. I want my man for a companion, not a stepdad or a bank account. So for now, the song and the smile remain in my head, then maybe one day, I’ll sit on a dark balcony in nothing but a t-shirt and a smile … and play the guitar song for my man. I’ve played guitar since 2nd Form, but I’m really rusty, so I’m glad that I have time to practise.

♫ Funtwo ♫ I am alright ♫

 

Two things. Well … three things. One: I spend a lot of time watching Sheep. Two: I have a story that I’m itching to tell … and I’m not allowed to tell it! *russumfussumsulkandpout* I forgot the third thing, but here’s what I’ll do. I’ll attempt to tell my story without telling it.

Okay, suppose your best pal called you up. The best pal is of the opposite sex, and you’ve had a crush on them forever. So supposing they called you late on a Tuesday night and suggested a booty call.

If you’re a guy, you’ll be over at her house before she hangs up. If you’re a girl, you’ll take half an hour longer. I mean, what on earth will you wear?! No, it doesn’t matter that whatever it is will be off in two seconds. It’s the principle of the thing. You could take a lot longer than half an hour, but you don’t want him to change his mind … or choke his chicken … or call Plan D.

Now suppose you got over to their place all pumped and ready to go and found your pal was with … someone else. Well technically, your pal is not with Someone Else. Technically, the Someone Else opens the door. Nude.

Oooookaaaaay.

Several things could happen here. The most likely thing is that you’ll freeze completely. Depending on the status and intelligence of the Someone Else, they could wait for you to thaw, ask you to come in, or slam the door in your face. Either way, let’s assume you get past that awkward moment and ask the naked person where your best buddy is.

Long story short, you get to your friend and find them cowering in the bathroom. It turns out you heard them wrong. After all, it was way past midnight on a Tuesday and you were half alseep. You heard the words ‘booty call’ from the crush of your life and didn’t wait to hear the rest.

As it turns out, your pal wasn’t calling you for a booty call. They were calling for a rescue from a booty call. And when you frantically dropped the phone and threw alluring clothes on, your friend was curled up in the bathroom yelling ‘Someone help me please!!’

Now … I don’t why they needed help from the booty call. I mean, judging by the looks of Someone Else, your pal should want to get with them. So maybe this really was an excuse to have you over on a late Tuesday night. Maybe your friend enjoys ménage à trois. Except, this is your best friend. You would know if they liked things kinky. And … their current position, foetal on the bathroom floor spewing gibberish … well, it doesn’t exactly suggest randiness. What would Charlie Sheen do?

Okay, I got a little carried away there. I have no idea where that came from. But here’s the thing. Something happened to me today. It wasn’t nearly as exciting a nude people answering doors, but it was four times more confusing, and I’m trying to make some sense of it all.

If I was a believer, I’d say it was God’s will for me. If I was a New Ager – which I am … well … sort of –  I wold say I wanted it to happen all along, and that I just didn’t know it. If I followed Mike Dooley and The Secret – which I do – I would say that this is the closest thing to what I want, so I’m moving in the right direction. Or I would say it’s a result of previous thoughts, and that I need to shift vibration.

Yes, I giggle when I say sh*t like that. I giggle loud and long. Very loud and very long. But you know what really clips my begonias?

 

Nothing. I just wanted to say that. I do need some Panadols though. Baileys would be nice too. In the meantime, I am amused that a Google Image search on The Ranting Swede gives my avatar as a result. Three times. I wonder when that happened. I should probably get a new hobby.

My brother said something very interesting the other day. I’d just given him some disappointing news, and I was furious on his behalf. He shrugged and went on fiddling with his comp.

“You’re not upset? Kwani you don’t care?”

“I do, but I can choose to be fine with it, so I’m fine with it.”

I swear I thought the boy was speaking Greek. But as I watched my anger totem, I started thinking. This anger totem makes me furious, every single time. Furious as in I-will-slowly-chop-your-nuts-off-with-a-blunt-rusty-slasher. But then I heard my bro’s words.

“I can choose to be fine with it, so I’m fine with it.”

Yeah, still sounds like Greek. But there’s a point in there somewhere. At first I stared at the totem, breathing hard and mumbling.

‘I am not angry. I am not angry. I am not [an] angry [scientist].’

It felt really silly, but I kept doing it. I’m still pretty mad, but the knot is loosening a bit. Now I’m looking at the totem and thinking, yes, you should still be castrated, but maybe we’ll use a pink guillotine instead. Music helps too. Progress, no?

One good thing has come out of today. I no longer believe things are random. Well actually, I’ve never believed things were random. I stopped believing in Virgin Mary, and I hadn’t quite decided who replaces her. I know there’s something out there, but I can’t see how it cares about me. Today I think maybe it does care for me, even though I still don’t know what IT is. And for some reason, I choose to call it George. So whatever you are, thank you Dude Up There. You’re clearly looking out for me. High Five.

Edit

It’s about a week later and I just bumped into my anger totem. I walked past like I hadn’t seen him. The raging levels rose for like five minutes, then I was right back to normal. I’m sure there will be consequences to ignoring him, but it feels great that I can go on with my day in peace, not pieces. Yaaaay George!!

♫ Guitar song ♫ Texas ♫