Mad Drama for your Mama...

Note:  this piece must be read with  the accent of an inner city African American woman from the projects.

See, what ha’ happened was.

Last Tuesday  I took a trip to the hair salon to fix the hot mess on my head. So there I was sittin’ in my chair, Hakeem detanglin’ my hair, mindin’   my own damn business when suddenly there was a screeching sound us.  Someone was a getting a beat down…

Lo’ have mercy.

See, the nail technician, let’s call her Peaches, has been knocking boots with her customers’ husbands.  Turns out while Peaches is fixin’ your nail extension and listens to you going on about your life she be thinkin’ how she can get herself some of what you got. Mmhm.   So this customer in particular, let’s call her Shaniqua, done gone and found out about Peaches and her husband and she is not the type of sister to fix  this  sorta thing behind closed doors.  She came into the salon and gave Peaches a beating right in front of everybody. She be hurling insults at Peaches like “ you B***h”  this will stop you from  f******g around with my man”.  Now I don’t know if maybe Peaches got her a death wish but she say “no it won’t, I am not leaving him.” Shaniqua got so mad, she was madder than befo.  She was a hufffin’ and a puffin’.  She had smoke comin’ outta her ears and s**t.

Sistuh. Honey. Gurl. It was hot  up in there…

Maybe you wonderin’ what me and the other folks was doing while this was goin’ on.  Well, Hakeem just he just  kep’ on creaming the relaxer and I was just lookin’ on, shocked outta my mind but laughing on the inside. ( kikikikiki) .  One guy was lookin’ at a magazine actin’ like he don’t see what’s goin’ on.

Now, Peaches got herself free and locked herself in the bathroom. Now, I don’t wanna judge but she was looking like a hoodrat running away from the landlord.  Shaniqua, while fixin herself said  “ you best be ready to live there forever ‘cause I aint goin  nowhere”.   Now Hakeem , he leave’me to  give Shaniqua a talkin’ to after she say she was gon’ go campin’ at his salon forever.    Hakeem, he talk to her , he says “ ma’ am , this here is a place of work, please could you  sort your problems somewhere else, maybe you could go home and talk to your husband ‘’.  Shaniqua wasn’t having none of that, she say “No no I’m done talkin’, I’m gonna whip is a** too”.  Shaniqua was real mad.  She did walk away though shaking her head fixin’ to go beat down her husband. 

Peaches also came out of the bathroom going on about how she wa’nt about to stop knocking boots with Shaniqua’s husband cause she say Shaniqua too full of herself.  She smoked two cigarettes and walked away looking over her back just in case…

I sure wonder who got to the brother first.

Now, I am not one to stick my nose is other people’s affairs but this one darn gone and followed me.  I walked out, hair fixed, bouncing like the girl in the shampoo advert, going back home, grateful for my comparatively drama free life.

Note: This is a true story that happened where I get my hair done at the corner of Voortrekker and Thabo Mbeki in Polokwane. Montel Classiques is what it’s called.  It’s a fantastic salon.  It is clean, beautifully decorated, they have a speed point and drinks and such. Very comfortable. It is usually peaceful sans Peaches and Shaniqua drama.  Hakeem himself is a hair genius, he took me from being a straw haired girl to a lady in Ebony magazine. 

The little blog that could...

A little over a year ago I sat in front of my computer and googled  " how to start a blog?" .    I followed the prompts  and poof just like that Sleeplessinpolokwane was born.  I did this because I hadn't not written a fun piece in a very  long time.  See, once upon a time  I was a journalist.  Though it was by job to write I still found time to write for leisure and I  had a great time doing it. Then one day I got a very serious job as  communications manager in  government and well I wrote a lot but there wasn't much creativity in it.  I worked all day, weekends and public holidays too. Whatever time I had to myself I spent sleeping and re-hydrating.  One day, I woke up and realiszed that all my journals were empty, my little note books had half baked pieces  jotted down on now off-yellow paper.  This made me sad.

So, that is  why I started this blog.  I wanted to write for me.  I wanted to write for fun.  I wanted a place where I could write and not judge myself  harshly or at all if my grammar  or spelling was incorrect or untidy.   I wanted a safe place to work on my creative muscle.  What I did not anticipate was the love I have received from publishing Sleeplessinpolokwane.     Oh my  word...what  validation.  Even the idea that people stop what they were doing to read my banter about  nothing and everything moves me.  Then  people read and they laughed and nodded their heads and left comments and asked their friends to read and they laughed and nodded their heads and left comments and asked their friends to read. And poof  I became a bona fide blogger ( I think) with an audience.

This is what we have done together your and I.

Number of  posts published:  31

Most read post:  Dear Love...this is where I live.  ( E V E R Y B O D Y  loved this )

Least read post: Easy soup for those with too much on their plate.

The funniest post:  The single girl's guide to load shedding and Chronicles of a formerly slim girl ( now I am a monkey at the zoo)

The saddest post: Chronicles of  a formerly slim girl ( I wear black because).  This post resonated with a lot of women.  I learnt that weight issues are not only fat people issues.

The most popular theme:  Love issues and  weight issues. ( Hmm I wonder why?)

Most Creative: My winter , my lover .  This post has the best imagery and it takes the mind to a very beautiful place.

Best Picture: The one posted in Let's do it in the morning.

Best  comment:  "Thank you for  this blog , I feel like you live in my mind"

My favorite post:  Dear Love...Your GPS works so well.

I must say though that its not easy to manage a blog.   They say a blog must have a particular focus or  niche but I just write what I like.  They say writers must have deadlines and be sure of their audience.  Well, I don't got none o' that.  Sometimes I just don't  feel like writing.  Sometimes I don't have the energy nor inclination or worse sometimes I have nothing to say.  Consistency is the most important  element it but it is also the most difficult part.  But you just have to keep  going.   "I- think- I - can. "

I am grateful to you for reading my blog.  You give me courage to keep  writing.  I have learnt through some of your responses that  we have similar fears and pains, that we celebrate the same things.   You have  allowed me to let my guard down to bear my soul only to find that we  mirror each other more than we think.

I feel like somewhat of a journalist again. A creative one!   

I am yours and you are mine and we remain Sleepless in Polokwane.

When sleepless in Polokwane...this is where I blog!   ( Okay fine yes...I made it a bit neater for the camera kikikiki)

Dear Love...Your GPS works so well!

Dear Love...


If I'd known that all I had to do was write  you a letter...Baby, I would have P O Boxed you a long time ago.

I love how you just waltzed into my life as if you hadn't been solicited! You jut came in and spread your wholesome self all over the place.  No introductions, no explanation for previous absence, no apologies, no small talk.  No not  you Love... I know now that it is because you were always there  , much like the sun, the moon and red on Coca-Cola.  Just because I did not see you...

Its like mist lifting at the first kiss of sunlight to reveal clear blue skies that were always there .  You just float there patiently waiting for us to be ready to receive you. My my my...if only I'd known  that you wanted me to learn so many lessons  I would not have resented your absence. After all none  appreciates freedom like a freed slave.

Oh you wanted me to fall in love with me first, to learn how to express myself, how to dry my own tears and pick myself up from ground zero.  How to love my solitude and have deep conversations with myself.  To celebrate myself and become my own inspiration. Yeses!   You wanted me to be strong and confident and ready for you!  Damn love,  you wanted me to  build a firm career, convince the bank to give me a house, change motor oil  and eat a candlelit dinner by my bad self!  What grace you have for me!

 Ya no Love  ... " O mphetile 10-0"    ( You beat me 10 -0)   .

There I was thinking you  forgot me but all you wanted was for me to become whole so that my happiness wouldn't depend on someone else.

You are the master Love and I adore  your entourage : kindness, faith, ,hope, joy, peace of mind, patience  and humility.  You really are all the Corinthians say you are!

Thank you Love, for coming my way.  I promise I'll take care of you!

My cup runeth over!

Yours in eternal  gratitude
Mashadi

Love at my finger tips! 

For the  prequel please see  Dear Love , this is where I live ( 11 November 2015,scroll down) 

A Velvet Apple a Day ...

I've always known  that I was born for fine things.  My sign points me to aesthetics.My soul is drawn  to the arrangement of color, shape, texture , form, line and space.  My eyes rest only on beauty... I love a beautiful thing.

It is not often that I come across something that evokes all my senses at the same time. Every , single , one! This rare occurrence when all the senses meet  is what I call perfect beauty   and  it has the power to send me floating into a pleasurable abyss.  It is hypnotic.

Naturally then  I am inclined to search for such perfect beauty as I need it to pull me through all the other moments. And because,  the universe  ever so often hears  the desires of our hearts and  leads us to them; I have found my sanctuary.  This my friends is how I discovered and fell in love with the Velvet Apple Cafe.  There at Number 80 Compensatie Street, in the heart of Polokwane lies heaven's lounge.

              When sight, scent,hearing, taste and  touch meet, the door to  beauty opens.

                      Love of course is a synonym for beauty!


On a  Saturday morning or afternoon or  any day for that matter  ( I say Saturday because I am still working on my campaign to  become a lady of leisure)one might make a trip to the Velvet Apple for a light meal  and most exquisite cup of tea.   The Cafe stocks an assortment of tea varieties from the world over which you may sip at the Cafe and purchase for later indulgence at home.

                        Around the world in 80 teas!

How jealous would the Mad-hatters  be of this pair?

                                    Need I say more?

                                      Shall we call the Lady of the house then ?

                                    Shadi and Sibo...a cup of tea between friends!

                               Quiche anyone?

Yummy yummy yummy I've got love in my tummy and I feel like loving you!


As they say in Verimark adverts " And that's not all"  . This little gem also offers architectural and  interior design services by the prolific Martin- Shawn.  You may have a consultation with him while you drink your tea and really if you like the art piece behind you ...well, you can buy it.  Black Apple Design   can make you a chair, hang you a curtain, fluff you a  cushion and paint you a picture.

 The front room by Black Apple Design.

When dusk falls the Cafe reveals her romantic side and gives you a little corner for you and yours to whisper sweet nothings to each other.   Dinner was a culinary carnival  on Saturday night  starting with   olives (from Greece ,also for sale) on a bed of fresh greens served with ciabata and biltong ritz, followed by rump steak with  snail (from Indonesia) and cheese sauce and  a side of  stuffed peppers. I am willing to bet my last Randella that the answer to world peace lies in their dessert of Japanese berry cheesecake and watermelon sorbet served in a Lindt chocolate basket.

                                           For the starter

                                       
                                        For the mains

                                       And for world peace...or dessert if you will.

                                           And a little bit of this to clear your conscience 

Darling Dewald arranges wedding, weekday or whenever flowers.  The quaint flower shop, Apple Blossom also offers soap, oils and salts to turn any bath into a luxurious experience. 

                                         Because  joy and beauty live here...Shadi and Dewald

I  find that lately I have so much on my plate that I do not  have the time or space to switch off and reconnect with myself.  I have been reminded that no one will give me that time so I just have to grab it.  The Velvet Apple Cafe is the perfect place to relax, unwind and spoil yourself a little bit.  Everybody deserves that kind of attention every once in a while.

And of course " you wanna go where everybody knows your name"

Chronicles of a formerly slim girl ( shoo fly don't bother me)

You've got to love the enthusiasm that comes with the beginning of the year especially those of us battling with   weight.  And yes, it is a battle.  An ongoing one that you stay  in even when  you have achieved victory.  I become the 'see no evil monkey'  when people say " now I am just maintaining".   Anyway...   I've taken to early morning walks, one , because of the health and weight thing ; two ,because there is hardly any parking at the gym and ,three, you have to wait for a treadmill and other equipment  It  makes sense because we are still holding on to our New Years's resolutions and   we are still motivated.

 I had a tit grating moment when  I was waiting at the treadmill and some stick insect she-person said to her stick insect she person buddy "  wait till  March..they  will  be gone" . Yeses!  I  felt my belly getting hot and air very slowly escaping my mouth.  In my head  I said " Bitch,mind your own business, we are tying here  for  fucks sakes!  But because I am a yogi and   I know how to process my anger I just kept taking those breaths!   Why are people so damn obnoxious.  It's hard  enough as it is.  Summoning the  courage to get into workout gear that  looks like its the size of a tent but fits snugglly around your body,  keeping  from losing your balance when tying your shoelaces and  trying to keep cool when passing the turnstile. It's hard enough as it is.

To my fellow Chubby Cheeks remember everyday is like the  the first of  January.  You can start afresh every single day. Get up and  show up!  It's a lot like taking a bath , you have to do it everyday (sometimes even twice)  in order to keep fresh and clean. Don't despair ...your narrow waistline is near.

Dear Love...this is where I live.

Dear Love


I wanted to take this time to write to you because I  feel perhaps you may need a little assistance locating me.  It seems to me, dear Love, that you have forgotten where I live. Wait! As a matter of fact it appears  you've never know.  I understand that there are over seven billion of us in the world  and that you have a great deal of work to do but I would  really like for you to come my way.  Its just ; I've been waiting for  years now and I keep hearing people talk about you so I have become rather anxious to meet you.

I know you may be a little perplexed thinking that you have revealed yourself to me in several forms.  That you  have manifested through family and friends.  That you live with me making sure that I want for nothing.  That you even shine through me so people see you when they look at me. Well, dear Love, that is not the version of you that I am talking about.  I need to see the version of you that manifests through a man. I know you exist in that form because human folks talk about  you a lot.

I am told that you are able to fill a man's heart so that  he has  genuine care and appreciation for a woman.  That in your presence a man is able to lead and protect.  That he can become a really great friend, companion, provider, teacher, lover and even light bulb changer? Is this true? Is it true that when you fill a man 's heart he can take a woman' car to the wash? He can hold her hand and walk with her?  Can you really do this? I am afraid I've only read and heard about you in this form.  I know no such !

I live in that place, dear Love, where even you fear to tread .  I live in that place where its okay for a man who has been in my life to wake up one day and stop talking to me forever.  You know that place, where after receiving  a Valentine's  gift  I am given a lecture about being a gold digger? And yes I had a gift for him too just in case you were wondering. I live in  that place where my thoughts are 'too much'  and my independence 'too threatening'.  Yes, that is where I live. Where even you are frowned  upon. Where  the  mere mention of your name is considered a weakness.  If I am to believe you exist I will need to meet you soon.

Do you think it may be okay if you took  a trip my way? As you take your trip around the world pairing the girls and boys please take a moment to consider me.   I'll be the one waiting ,patiently as I always have. But still...I can't wait to meet you.  I really hope you will come.

I smile always...hoping, that soon you will come my way!

Sincerely Yours
Mashadi

I got nothing but the rocks in my bed...

Winter was hard this year.  Oh what a schlep it was to get out of bed, run the shower and get on with the theater on the day.  I felt like an old Weeping Willow, tired and grey  with limbs  slouched , hanging and sobbing at the unrelenting cold.  Its not so much that the temperatures we too low but I fell into a  deep inconsolable melancholy that stayed one month too long.  I quite like winter ( see My Winter , my lover posted 26/06/15) and I understand that I wont  flourish  between June and August as as I do in the warmer months.  However,  this year, took me to that place that is most familiar to a Blue's singer who has lost in the battlefield of love.  That place where you have nothing left to give and no room to receive.  I lived Duke Elington's "Nothing but the blues"  and Ella Fitzgerald followed me everywhere singing:

"Aint got the change of a nickel
Aint got no bounce in my shoe
Aint got no fancy to tickle
Aint got nothing but the blues"

I  was miserable, morose and melancholic.  Nonetheless, amid all of that  I still fell upon events that would take the of bluest singers into a joyful calypso.


At the end of July we hid behind masks and let our  alter egos party the night away.  It was a masquarade.

Then we took a quick trip to the city and had lunch with our friends.  Lest we forget what else is out there.

Then we did the happiest five kilometers in the world.  The Color Run is the only thing is that better than it is sold to be.  We chose to be happy.

Quick hairdo change.  Merry under the Cubana lights.

Lunching with the Peacocks!

On August 29, we paid tribute to Michael Jackson, on his birthday and honoured him for being the soundtrack to our lives.#helpmesingit

Nothing beats a selfie on the escalator.

Sharing pearls of friendship wisdom on the radio.

Its okay to have the blues  just make sure that somewhere in between there you find some light and drops of joy. I insist on it.