CityGirl

Is romance dead?  I had cause to ponder on this question tonight.

After indulging in the usual Sunday night activities in order to prepare myself for another dreary work week, you know, ensure that I’m clean shaven, check out what’s available to wear this week, I decided that I was going to pop by Tiger market for a bottle of cherry juice.   I had some letters to write.  One chiding a TVJ presenter for his unprofessional behavior with some guests on Morning time the previous week, plus another applying for a part-time teaching post, as well as a recommendation.  I thought about having some wine, but figured that if I wanted to complete all that I had to do before retiring to bed, I should err on the side of caution.  Even the tiniest bit of alcohol tend to put me to sleep.  And what better choice of drink is there than cherry juice?

 Every since I read IrieLatino’s comment on Spice’s blog stating cherry juice is his favourite,  it jolted my memory that it was indeed one of my favourite juices too and I haven’t been able to stop buying it since.

So anyway, went into Tigermarket and the store was filled with the sounds of some wonderful love songs.  There was ‘Reunited’ by Peaches and Herb, ‘You’re my lady’ by Freddie Jackson playing. 

Man, I was taken all the way back to when I was a child in the eighties.  That’s the era when love songs reigned supreme.  That was the era when if you’re a fete or a party and ‘Reasons’ by Earth, Wind & Fire started playing you had better find yourself a partner.

I walked around the store, singing happily and thinking wistfully that it has been a while since I swayed to a love song totally secured in someone’s arms.  I’ve been to sessions recently and I’ve ‘wuk up’ me waist and done some of the myriad of dancehall moves that currently prevail.  But when was the last time that I danced to a love song?

Do people even dance like that anymore?    Do people turn off the tv, dim the lights,  put in a cd and just dance cheek to cheek to love songs?  Or make out to the sound of Marvin Gaye soothing voice in the background, exhorting them to get some sexual healing?

I do like to act like the cynic at times but I’m such a hopeless romantic at heart.

I can see now why men don’t understand women.  They’re absolutely perplexing people!  They’re up, then they’re down.  Happy one minute, sad the next.  I don’t even get me.

So last night I was shedding copious tears at the thought of my best male friend moving to the States.  I felt so heart-broken.

Tonight, I’m feeling on top of the world.  Nothing has changed.  He’s still migrating.  Election is still due this year.  I’m still not getting the salary that I want.  I’m still without a boyfriend.  Yet, somehow everything is all right with my world again. 

Weird isn’t it?  Things aren’t just ok, I’m actually feeling great for no discernable reason.   Maybe I just needed a good cry to cleanse my soul.   Cryng can be cathartic afterall. 

I stopped by the supermarket on my way home this evening because I remembered that I wanted some tomato sauce.  I had planned on cooking some chilli.

But now I’m home I’m just too tired to bother.  Plus I’m a little sad.  Well make that plenty sad.  My best male friend advised me that he’s migrating in about four months.    Actually he’s getting married around that time in the States and won’t be returning to Jamaica.  I was quite devastated at the news.  I cried all last night.

Now it’s not like I didn’t expect this.  I just didn’t expect this now.  I totally expected him to return to Jamaica after the wedding, giving me a chance to get accustomed to the idea of him leaving in a few months/year to be with his wife.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m happy for him.  Thrilled actually because he’s such a wonderful person.  He’ll make a great husband and father.  I’ve already given him the ‘no cheating’ lecture.  I didn’t necessarily think it was needed but I know how easily men wilt in the face of temptation.

It’s selfish of me I know but I’m really not ready to be without my best friend, my brother, my insight into the perplexing world of men and how they think.

I need to stop crying.  I miss him already.

So Paris is going to jail.  Thank God the legal system in the States work in this instance.  There really ought not to be one law for the rich and one for the poor. 

But can you believe that  she thinks that she has been wronged?   

Last weekend I was in Washington DC.  It was a four-day trip.   The plane landed at Washington Reagan International and the male passenger in the seat at the end of the aisle (there was an empty seat between us) turned to me and smiled, “You made it!”

He then told me that, he could see the sheer terror on my face.  He noticed the way I gripped my hands (I was desperately trying not to grab on to him!) and the laboured breathing.  He didn’t want to say anything though, thinking that it would have made me feel worse.   I was already screaming inside as I discreetly (I thought) wiped away the tears that pricked at my eyes then.  Nothing could have made me feel worse.

I absolutely hate flying.   The fact that I do so at least 3 times a year doesn’t cause that fear to subside.  As a matter of fact it seems to get progressively worse.  I have been known to grab unsuspecting strangers who had the misfortune to be seated next to me during a moment of turbulence.  So far no one has requested a change of seat, most of the time patting my arm comfortingly even as they try to disentangle themselves. 

I really can’t help feeling like I’m about to embark on a suicide mission every time I’m about to fly.  And so prior to each trip, I go through the usual ritual of checking my insurance documents, putting birth certificates, bank and other relevant documents on a table where it is easily accessible in the event the worse happens.  

 And now I see that a Kenya Airline plane is missing, disappeared without a trace.  According to the BBC news, it should have arrived at 6.15am.  Five hours later there’s still  no news of the plane.  As usual, whenever I hear of an airplane disaster, I swallowed hard, thinking, gosh that could have been a plane I’m on.

Now reconcile the above to my desire to travel the world, to my recent resolve to visit a new country each year. 

It’s budget presentation time again and as usual (or probably more so because of the imminent election) both parties are trying to outdo each other.  Only time will tell  if these proposals are merely more wild promises.  I couldn’t help noticing that niether of the parties outlined how it is that they’re going to fund their proposals.

According to them there’s going to be elimination of hospital fees, free education for all among other things.  It sounds good in theory but in light of our very aneamic financial situation, without some idea how these wonderful plans are going to be financed, it might just amount to sheer electioneering, a vote catching ploy with little intention to follow up. 

I’m simultaneously annoyed and amused that after a budget presentation, there’s a round of cocktail parties to celebrate the occasion and congratulation each other.  But what are they celebrating though?  Our mounting debts?  Shouldn’t these celebrations be postponed until we see some growth in the economy?

In the meantime, even though I’ve registered/attempted to register twice, I’m still told there’s no card for me when I called the electorial office.  My name is still not on the list.  It beats me.  When in disgust, I inquired what’s the point of people getting enumerated if it doesn’t guarantee that they’ll be able to vote, I was told that they’re going to investigate why my name isn’t on the list and call me back.  It’s going on two weeks now and I’m still waiting.

Fortunately for the PNP, it appears that there’ll be one less vote against that administration.