An Uncomfortable Encounter

This week my boss went to Swaziland to de-rig the poker tournament studio we have there at Piggs Peak. The casino is being shutdown and he needed to collect all of the equipment that has been there for the last 6 years. The company that I currently work for as a video editor used to produce the All Africa Poker Channel which ran on DSTV for six years. It was highly successful and there were million Rand poker tournaments four times a year in Piggs Peak, Swaziland, which the company filmed. However a moratorium banning online gambling saw the end of All Africa and ultimately Piggs Peak casino. So I helped my boss get tool boxes ready and I honestly thought that I would be going with him, as I had done in the past. 

Then I received an email from Paul, my ex-boyfriend. 

To clarify, for those who do not know, Paul and I were friends for 12 years before dating. We were working together when we dated, he left when we broke up. 

He asked me if I was going. I didn't reply. I was confused as I wanted to know how he even knew I might be going. Then he sent four more mails, which I didn't reply to. I skimmed them, but the final one read; "please reply or I will have to pass on this great opportunity". 

There it was, he would be going to Swaziland. I quickly went to my boss to clarify the situation as he knows that things between Paul and I are nasty at best. He assured me that Paul and another guy would be going as it is tough work. I was relieved. 

They left on the Wednesday, however I was not in as I was not feeling well. Legitimately. 

They came back on the Thursday afternoon... and the whole day I was jittery. Of course I was. The last time I had had an encounter with him, it was strange. I saw him at The Kooks and decided to be polite and say hello. It was the first time I had clapped eyes on him in the six months since I had ended things. I tapped him on the shoulder while he was chatting to someone and pulled back. He saw me and his whole face changed. I felt awful. I said a shy hello, and we gave an awkward hug. I told him that I couldn't talk for long as we had to leave, which was the truth. As if in a movie, my friend, Shahil, came to whisk me away and I said goodbye to Paul over my shoulder as he stared at my back. The rain and cold didn't help the gloomy situation. I heard Paul call me as I joined the line for the buses and I looked back at him. There were hundreds of people around us and I was suitably embarrassed.  He kept on calling me until I acknowledged him, and then he asked me "Dani, will we ever be together again?"

"No" I replied.

Again, as if in a movie I saw the crowd suck him away. The despair on his face so apparent. I was devastated. 

I boarded one of the buses and the rest of the night was a haze. I remember we messaged each other, and I apologized for speaking to him.

I didn't reply to his messages ever again after that. In fact, I had actually blocked his number months ago.

So on Thursday, at around 15h30 the office parking lot gate opened and there he was. I wasn't nervous, but unsure. Unsure of how he would be towards me. He has a disregard for those around him when he sees me. A sort of tunnel vision. This embarrasses me. There is always a time and place to conduct yourself and Paul never understood this. He greeted the rest of the staff and when he looked at me he shook his head, placed his hand over his heart and showed me how nervous he was. We hugged hello. Exchanged polite greetings and then he got awkward, "Dani, you look incredible". I got polite,  "thank you for the kind words". I walked towards the trailer with all the equipment on it and the old Paul came rushing back; "Is that all Dani?". "Please, not now." I implored of him. We offloaded some of the equipment, and I walked towards our studio to unlock it, he followed me and called after me. I pretended not to hear him. He called again, so I turned around. I asked him not to do this now, then he asked me why I didn't reply to his messages to which I simply replied, I can't. Which is the truth. If I reply it will never end. He will never stop asking me questions. He will never end his hold over me. It is a sick, sick cycle. He got the message so to speak. The guys left and Paul refused to look me in the eye or say good-bye. There is nothing I can do to make what happened between us change. I can only change my behaviour. We had a bad relationship, and I am still healing. I cried myself to sleep last night and my love for him will always be there. 

What I miss most of all is my friend, because we were great friends, but we sucked at being lovers. I will always wish him well, absolute happiness and lightness of being. 

The Kings Named Leon

About two weekends ago the much anticipated Kings of Leon concert came and went. Having been a fan for some 8 years now I was very keen to see them live. Paul of course felt the same way. Our expectations were reserved as we understood who these gents were, and knew that they were not about to deliver an energetic, blow-your-face-off, "we-are-the-shit" live performance. They have gained massive notoriety over the last four years what with "Sex on Fire", "Use Somebody", and "Radioactive". They were famous, plain and simple. I remember thinking, years ago, if they were to become famous I would be really bleak. They are too cool for everyone else. It sounds cocky and possessive, but I love them that much. Lo and behold the family band make it big. The albums get worse and albums sales go up.


I read on Bangers and Nash about his experience in Cape Town and he confirmed all my worst fears. The crowd was filled with drunken, lumo-outfitted, last two album owning, 5fm / chart topper listening JOCKS! As it is written, as it was in Joburg. Paul and I were so bleak. The concert was ruined for us by a bunch of Bacardi-Breezer drinking, Sex on Fire sing-along chicks and dicks in dress up.


I am sorry. But what about the Kings of Leon provokes one to don lumo, tiaras, devil horns, and other such head attire that either glows, flashes or has glitter on it. They are a Nashville country rock blues band. For fucks sake!


However, they were INCREDIBLE!
The best live band I have ever seen. They were on key, they were professional. They were on time. They were well rehearsed. They were sober. They were polite. They may not have spoken much, but having spoken to other people regarding their live performances, that is how they roll. I am sad there is tension in the group. They are pure and unadulterated wonderful rock and roll. I sang my heart out and cried when they sang "The Bucket". I am sad they did not sing "Milk", but all in all they were pure perfection.


The event organisers were also super professional and all our transfers to and from Soccer City were flawless!


I did state, and I maintain that I will never be going to another radio sponsored concert (i.e. 5fm) - too many "fans".


Peace!

 

Messing Up The Meds

So I made the stupid mistake this weekend of taking my tablets without concentrating. I think it started last Thursday. I mixed up my morning batch with my night time batch. Very confusing. Needless to say. My medication is sorted, into morning and night, and then by weekday. How I messed this up, I don't know. My blonde roots were showing. When the empty Friday morning stared at me, I stared back at it, thoroughly confused. What the eff had happened. Who had taken my pills, and why? I put it down to bad sorting on my part. I shrugged my shoulders, simply did some rearranging and scoffed my solution down my throat. Pleased with myself. Completely unawares of the chemical storm brewing inside. The mood, she was growing. 


By Saturday afternoon I was so so down. Lying in bed was the only option, and even changing the channel on TV was an effort. I had dinner plans that night which I was quite looking forward to. A girls' night out with the Caroline's. We went to see Crazy, Stupid, Love. Oh, yeah, just what I was in the mood for. A movie to remind me about love and relationships. 


When I got home that night, bored, tired, emotional and alone. I did the worst thing possible, on par with drunk texting. Sad texting. In this state you too are fuelled by emotion, are illogical and reason has no place in your world. So I called Paul. He was out. I got mad at him. Not his fault, we are not together at the moment. My FOMO was acting up and I was feeling sorry for myself. My moods were unstable, I was in a bad state.


Then I cried.


I can't even recall what movie I was watching, it was probably a comedy, but I cried. 


Sunday... tablet sorting time! I was tired of feeling sad and sorry for myself, I had played that role, starred in that movie, sung that song and written that book all too many times before. I was finally stable. HAPPY, and then I fuck it up. 


No more tears I say. Johnson and Johnson know what they are talking about.

Happy Birthday!

My Dear Paul


Although we may be spending some time apart. I still want to wish you the happiest of birthdays. 

26 today!!

I have known you for 11 of those 26 years. From high school buddies, forever friends at AFDA, party pals after varsity, colleagues and then partners in life and crime. 

I wish for you a year and life paved by good choices, fine wine, good music, memorable moments, loyal friends, successful business endeavours, strong health, bursts of creative joy and energy, fantastic adventures around the world and of course boundless love.

I give to you my promise to remain your friend, to remain by your side without defining the capacity. To abandon a friendship and love as true as ours would be shameful.

Celebrate life! For you have only enjoyed the first quarter of it. 

I toast to you, My Paul.

"And I hope that you smile tonight..."

- Three Hopeful Thoughts by Rilo Kiley

Chasing Pavements

Even though the song 'Chasing Pavements' is about going after love, I prefer to use the term in another context. 


The second half of last year was my year of "chasing pavements". For every fight Paul and I would have, I would literally take to the streets in a bid for attention and to cool my rage. I didn't want him to follow, yet I would turn and look for him. I did a lot of walking last year. Through the streets of Highlands North, Houghton, Norwood, Edenvale, Sandton and many more avenues and ways. I walked in the rain, harsh sun and cold. I ran away from him and eventually tore the ligaments in my ankle, this for me was a literal grounding, an end to our fights. Months of physiotherapy got my ankle right. Yet it did not end. Paul then adopted this behaviour and I had to take chase, bad leg and all. 


We have chased pavements and each other in Johannesburg, Cape Town and even Swaziland. If I could not run I would threaten to kill myself. He went through so much. I finally got help in March and have not gone chasing any pavements in a very long time. I have opted instead for a more sedentary approach, once a week in my therapist's office. 


However my best friend, my lover, my heart... is still chasing pavements and I can no longer run after him. This is a journey you will have to chase without me. I trust you find the help you need along the way. 


I love you. I will be at the end of your road waiting.

Love Is Paranoid

We have to make this work. I love you so much. 

We've said it before, whatever it takes. Take this as my commitment to you, to us. 

I am looking forward to my future with you, the fun times and the inevitable fights.

"I step right off the edge, let the blood rush to my head

I'm going down to where the lucky ones have bled

I lift the veil up to reveal a fascination 

And if you crave it then you know that you are injured

And I'm holding on

And I'm holding on

For what you do to me, oh, baby, there's no measure 

I've taken everything, now I want to give it

I left the lights on so you stumble in devotion

So easy, so easy, it's left unspoken 

And I'm holding on

And I'm holding on

And I'm holding on

And I'm holding on

I've come to realize you're the only thing I want

I'm falling all the way in

I'm falling all the way in

I've come to realize you're the only thing I want

I'm falling all the way in

(I've fallen)..."

- Love is Paranoid by The Distillers

"Baby, you make my heart beat faster.

Baby, you make my heart beat faster. I know.

Yeah I know. I know..."

Lyric of the Day

Paul has dubbed me "Milk", this is my new nickname. One for the collection. Along with Buzzoo, Bubbles, Bundles, D, Bambino, Baby, Little Fish, Cuttlefish, Cuddlewaves and Gunston when I drive.

He says the song by Kings of Leon "Milk" seems to sum everything up. 

I love him, my Fuuni, more than words. 

"She saw my comb over, her hourglass body 

She had problems with drinking milk 

and being school tardy 

She'll loan you her toothbrush 

She'll bartend you party..."

 - Milk by Kings of Leon

Random Stumblings

Surfing the net, Failblog in particular, my boyfriend and I came across a "fail" picture. He always jokes when he gets hungry enough he would eat a "whole baby". Hahahaha. I had to post this.

Lyric of the Day

We may fight, we may kick and scream through the streets of suburban Johannesburg, we may cause a scene, we may march, we may hold each other tight, we may cry, we may apologise, we may curse, we may promise, we may run, we may fly, or we may ache. 

All these things we may do my love but my feelings for you remain unchanged Fuuni.

I have selected a few lines from two of my favourite songs for you. 

"Let go of the past, that tore you apart.

Embrace this chance for a brand new start.

We weren't meant to be one of them,

but to live life, love and give..."

 - The Taste of Regret by In Fear and Faith

I sang this song, lungs bursting, ears ringing, unawares, loud enough to wake the dead (as I felt this was honouring the song's spirit) on the way back from your house tonight. Not, in such a long time has a song touched me or resonated with me in a way as it did tonight.

I believe in you my love. Let the lyrics in the way in which I did... I love you. 

"This is our city of the dead

Another life holds its weary head

We hope, we try, we live, survive

Counting days, trying to get by

Waiting for the calling

Anticipation in the air

We hope and dream of difference

City sleeping, unaware

Break the silence, WAKE THE DEAD

Running through these streets alone

I'll kick and scream, let's break this hold

'Cause I swear, that this won't render useless

I promise you, we've come this far

And I'm not stopping, I'm not stopping now

Enough hiding in shadows

Wake up, send out this message, it's clear

You said, you said, you said

this time was gonna be different

WAKE UP THE DEAD

[2x]

Coming alive, something stirs inside

This isn't over yet

Shake off the dirt

Swallow regret

Stop living under the weight

Living under the weight of regret

Your regrets

DON'T LOSE HOPE

Your regrets

DON'T LOSE HOPE

Don't let it happen to you

DON'T LOSE HOPE

Which side are you gonna choose?

'Cause I believe, I believe it's in you RISE!

We said, we said, we said

This time was gonna be different

WAKE UP THE DEAD..."

- Wake The Dead by Comeback Kid

Saturday Stumblings at The Collectors Treasury

Situated on 244 Commisioner Street in Kensington (Arts on Main) and spread over 8 storeys, The Collectors Treasury is Southern Africa's largest used book store, but it doesn't only end, or begin at books. It is essentially an antiques store with a focus on books and vinyls and dust, my nose itches at the thought of the place. Shahil emailed us his infamous Saturday exploration email, and told us that he would be going, whether we joined him or not. Of course we would be joining, this place is an institution. So we rose early on a Saturday morning, gathered the troops, and all missioned through the dark side of town to find the hidden collected treasures. Wow, we find some dusies. I found a first edition Mein Kampf, no lies. Paul had mini heart attacks whenever he came across his favourite and hard-to-find authour Jack Kerouac, who was crazily over-priced in my opinion, but books have no price. It was fun exploring the crowded, dusty, narrow bookshelves with my baby-love and my friends. I will be returning soon, well to get Paul's books. I will take an Allergex beforehand though, haha.

 

Oppi fucking Koppi

This was my first (and last) Oppikoppi. It was called Sexy.Crooked.Teeth and I saw one man who seemed to take the theme to heart, sipping on Tassies wearing lowcut jeans, no shirt and bearing his purple crooked teeth. It was an experience. It was dusty, it was busy, it was smelly, it was packed, it was vibey, it was chilled, it was hot, it was chilly. For a sold out festival (16 000 people) there were definitely not enough facilities. One set of ablutions and 40 showers is not quite cutting it I would say. It was so full, we had to camp off the farm. And being a self-proclaimed Jozi City Princess this would just not do. Despite all my bitching, I really had a lot of fun. The food was amazing. Try the Potjie Palace if you go. The band set up and performances were incredible, especially Danceyou'reonfire, Rambling Bones, Wrestlerish, Blk Jks, and of course Billy Talent. Now on that thought. Die Heuwels Fantasties put on the worst performance I have ever seen in my life. From what I heard from friends in fellow bands, Pierre Greef got drunk and lost his voice. This to me is unacceptable. We paid to watch and he is being paid (well) to play. Enough said. My love for them has waned, I feel sorry for the other members of the band. 

All in all it was a fun experience. The not having to worry about anything. Being able to drink and not drive. Meeting new, sometimes a bit crazy, people. Spending time with my boy. Spending time with my friends. It all seems like a bit of a blur and even composing these pics in the correct order was a bit confusing. haha. 

NIGHT 1

        

Dance You're On Fire

 

DAY 1 / NIGHT 2

        

Rambling Bones

    

 

Facing The Gallows

Electro Stage - Haezer

DAY 2 / NIGHT 3

  

Wrestlerish

Billy Talent