Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Stuck in the middle

There I was, in conversation with Oba, as usual. We seem to have this ritual of calling each other, having almost identical conversations to the day before, and then we go off on a tangent about some subject or the other.

Prior to that I was talking to Val and said I was going to put it to him that he really wanted to go out with me. Actually, it was more like "come on, admit it, you know you want me". It would have been too funny to see his face if I had said that.

But no, the convo didn't quite go like that. It was more along the lines that he was saying how we talk so much and for so long on the telephone. We tend to go through phases like this where we talk almost every day, then we don't talk for about 6+ months (mostly longer), and then we start talking again. Neither of us could figure out why this is. This current round of calls started on the day of the bombings in early July.

After asking my usual round of questions, he then said that he should start taking me around with him and the church choir that he directs. I said: "Yeah, and when you do that you know people are going to start talking". The next question directed to me was: "What would you say to them if they asked you?". Me, thinking I was being witty and clever said I'll just say you're my Fiance.

Who tell me say dat? Quick as a flash he said "You know once you say that you're going to have to start making plans for marriage". He said you can't say it and not follow through! Nothing else I said could budge him off of that. I walked right into that one didn't I?

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Promises promises

The other day I got talking to...well, let's call him Oba. I've known Oba for about 4 years, and during that time it is more than obvious that he would like to have a relationship with me. I, on the other hand, horrible baiter that I am, simply joke his intentions into oblivion.

If it weren't for that incident in central London looking for the camera, I would consider giving him more than the time of day. Funny enough, recently has been the first time I told him why I stopped talking to him. So there he is, trying again, but playing like he isn't trying.

Now he calls and says we should go to the cinema some time, I say no prob, so long as it's a film we both don't mind watching. Last time I had to endure a film with someone I would rather not be with it was a nightmare, and that's putting it mildly.

The sad thing is that he's always saying to me "why do you have to say that?" So, I guess I pulled out the guns at this point; I said he has a habit of saying things that never bear fruition, whereas I would not promise him anything, I simply would find out when he was available and then go for it. He just talks and then it fizzles out.

He said that I should treat him to a meal, no prob, I called him twice to arrange when would be suitable. The first time around he never called back, the second time he called back after the time. When someone does that you don't really go out of your way to plan anything with them (and yes, I told him that). He went quiet, as he does when I say these things.

Truth of the matter is that I know he's done sizing me up, but I am not so sure about him. Nothing he has done yet (apart from his persistence which you have to applaud) convinces me otherwise. Having said that, some of the guys I've met in the past have made him look reaaaaal gooood!!!!

My sis thinks I'm being cruel to him but I let him know from the outset where I stand. And yes, I acknowledge that I've probably been a bit hard on him...but he deserves it! And he keeps coming back for more...

Who knows? I might cut him some day.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

The now and the not yet

Recently I've been having some interesting conversations, and one of them took place on Tuesday when I called a friend.

She was saying that we (including a couple of other people) are the last of a dying breed in church. What did she mean? Well, recently I've been doing a lot of reading, mainly things other people have said, and to be frank, I'm confused.

As a Christian, one assumes that there are certain precepts we would agree on and follow, even in our imperfection. However, some things have continued to baffle me; how can someone claim a belief in God, and yet do things and behave in a way that is directly opposed to Scriptural teachings? I don't think it's about people behaving the same way as me, I think it is a case of practising what you preach. Then what is the objective of going to church in the first place if you want to do your own thing?

Much of what happens is because as human beings we believe that we are better and greater than our Creator, so we fit him into whatever boxes we want to squeeze him into. No different to Adam and Eve really; we have eaten from the tree and think we know everything, only to find our house tumbling down through our own deliberate fault.

We wonder why our young people are so apathetic, it is simply our fault. Men and women are more dysfunctional than ever, and that indecisiveness and prejudice we pass on to the next generation in some form or fashion. We see religion as something for the weak, whereas it is the opposite. The road to destruction is wide in more ways than one. Many people who go to church don't necessarily believe the teachings of Christianity. An interesting article reminded me of that.

Nothing new really. There really is a "remnant" within the Christian community. Sometimes it feels like a voice crying in the wilderness that society ignores at its own peril. Just as those of us who cut ourselves off from our world and bury our heads in the sand are part of that demise.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Mama's got a brand

Ok, in a moment of weakness I gave in. It was on eBay, calling my name, and I couldn't help but answer.

I sat and watched and watched, until 3 minutes before the end of the bid, and then got in there with my bid. Then I sat and counted down until the end of the big. That beauty was mine! After I bought it I wondered "what have I done??"

Maybe I should have opted for another model, but somehow I decided to go the whole hog. I know I'm speaking in riddles, and maybe it's best if I don't shame myself here by admitting exactly what it is I have bought. I hope it arrives on Friday.

But I think this will mean taking some time away from eBay. Ok, after I get my "Back On The Block" album. How I wish I could find "The Winans Live At Carnegie Hall". Maybe it's time to transfer mine from tape to CD. However, I suspect if that album were ever to be re-released it would sell out in no time. In fact, hopefully it wouldn't be a Limited Edition run. Apparently the album can fetch anything from $400+ on eBay. As much as I would want it, I don't think so. My tape might not be 100%, but it's better than not having it at all.

One day I hope...

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Unbreak my heart

On Saturday evening, I attended a funeral. There was post in my tray at work, and I didn't notice it until about Thursday. It was about the funeral that would be taking place at Westminster Central Hall, and invited us to come and support the family. At first I wasn't quite sure which capacity I would be going in, but decided just to go and support the family.

Up until the day before, it occurred to me that I wasn't sure who the person was, and whether I had met her before or not. It was only at the funeral, when I saw the pictures of her in the "Order of Service" booklet, that it began to dawn on me who she was and when I had met her.

It was sometime early last year, at one of the regional celebrations. I remember someone to my right, I looked around and she was there with someone else from her church. We began to chat and I realized that I was familiar with the previous pastor of her church. I asked how they were getting on without one and about their search to find a new minister. The thing that stands out to me was how friendly and soft spoken she was; it is very rare in a regional celebration meeting to find random people coming up to you and introducing themselves and engaging in conversation. In the end I thought she was really nice, and hoped to see her again at another regional meeting. You know, I can't remember if I did. On one occasion I was some distance away; I didn't quite manage to catch her eye and said to myself "another time I'll say hello". I should really stop doing that.

The funeral was interesting, in that it was one of those affairs where I was "a minority amongst a minority". I smiled inwardly when the congregation sighed and tutted at comments made by the speaker of the time. I was moved by the tribute of the daughter and noticed most of the congregation weeping and wiping their eyes, even choking back sobs. To stop myself from crying (mostly because I'd forgotten to bring tissues), I focussed on the ceiling and the architecture. It worked.

At the end, there was a "viewing of the body" and I decided to make my exit. If I wanted to view the body, I would probably choose to do that in the intimacy of the funeral home. There is something morbid (at least to me), not to mention obscene, about gawking at a corpse in public. In a way it is kind of acknowledging that the person has died and their shell remains - been there, done that; but I just don't want to participate in the stare-fest.

Last week Friday I attended Ruth's mother's funeral, and this week this one. I went home the route I came, walking in central London until I got to my bus stop, stopped off at the Chinese takeaway and then home. My heart was heavy. Promptly after taking off my shoes and jacket, I called my mother. Somehow I wanted to speak to her and to hear her voice. She was on her way out so palmed me off onto my father (oh joy), and finally to my brother. We ended up talking into the wee hours of the morning (my time) about some of everything.

Thursday, August 04, 2005


I wore a skirt to work, which is not a rare occurrence. However, someone said, rather surprised "you're wearing a skirt!".

My response was yes, I have been wearing skirts quite a bit over the past two or three months. She said she'd never seen me in one before, I can only imagine that she never noticed what I was wearing when I was wearing a skirt which is most of the time..

She then proceeded to say I'm a tomboy, at which I looked at her puzzled? Me, a tomboy? Why do people assume that if you opt to wear trousers rather than a skirt it makes you a tomboy? I wear trousers because they have pockets, and I prefer skirts with pockets than not (I have something to put my music and bus pass in). I don't wear heels because they are uncomfortable to walk in, is that a crime? My preference for no makeup doesn't make me a tomboy, it's simply because I don't like the stuff, and having sensitive skin makes me twice as wary (ignoring the couple of things I bought a few months back).

A Tomboy is: "a girl who behaves in a boyish manner". What is "boyish" about the above? Just because I don't glam up doesn't make me a tomboy. I know what a Tomboy is and because I'm a woman who wears trousers often, doesn't wear makeup or spend money on getting fake nails, nor strut around in heels that are bound to hurt or wring my ankles doesn't make me one.

For years I've heard people say that nonsense but hey, I can't deal with creepy crawlies, I've never climbed a tree in my life, I liked boys toy's cos they had more moving parts than the pansy girls stuff - even Action Man was more fun than Barbie! Boys always got the good toys and we got the naff girlie tea set stuff, which I did enjoy playing with (it was the parts you see). Never drank so much squash from such a small cup... In life women cross a whole strata, just because we don't fall into a particular stereotype doesn't make us any less feminine or female.

Good thing I didn't opt to cut all of my hair off and go natural or I'd be accused of being a Lesbian. Again.

Monday, August 01, 2005


Yup, this the place where it was happening in Birmingham during the past week!

On the Saturday night I stayed in Jury's Inn, and Val was a no show. She hadn't bothered to tell me she wasn't coming until after 10pm on Saturday night when she left a message and my phone was off. Which was a pretty useless exercise by then.

The palava getting back home was something else. I had tried to leave early after everything had finished on Sunday evening but succeeded in missing my 6:45pm train - the exit to New Street Station that I thought would be open wasn't. So, I waited for the next train, the 7:45pm, but this was cancelled. We were all expected to get a train to Nuneaton, then a train from there into London. But, judging from a remark I overheard, there's no way that many people would fit on the train, so I didn't even bother trying. Plus I really wasn't up to changing trains.

Eventually the 8:45pm train pulls up, and we crowd on (including those who attempted to travel to Nuneaton but hadn't succeeded). Although it was full, it wasn't heaving, which was good. We got in after 11pm (yeah, we took the scenic route). In turn, I decided to take the scenic route home :)