Category Archives: Expression

When Genocide hides behind ‘Xenophobia’

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Unless you live under a rock with no access to satellite TV and the internet (in which case you probably won’t be reading this anyway), you HAVE to have heard about the random, brutal killing, maiming and general terrorizing of foreigners by South Africans in Durban, Johannesburg, and basically anywhere lazy black South Africans can be found accross their national territory.

I have watched the video of Zulu king Goodwill Zwelithini’s speech in which he incited South Africans against foreigners, and it brought tears to my eyes and rage to my heart.  It is one thing to face discrimination, and it is another to lose your life over it. What makes it worse is that majority of the immigrants in South Africa are regular, middle-class folks working hard to eke out a decent life for themselves. Unfortunately,I have personally come across the disdain and disrespect black Africans face in South Africa (I alluded to it in passing here , but for personal reasons, decided not to follow up with a more explicit story as I had initially planned), and all I can say is, I do not look forward to the day i have to try to set foot in South Africa again.

What has really set me off this afternoon, though, is reading a story sent to me on Facebook by a friend – this story was written by Lovelyn Chidinma Nwadeyi, a Nigerian living in South Africa, and has literally brought tears to my eyes. It lays bare the injustices African immigrants (and visitors) face in South Africa, and is a must-read for any one who has on opinion on the current situation there. I have copied and pasted the article below from the SAPeople website. It is long, but worth the read.

Growing up in South Africa, I was always reminded by those around me that I was different to everyone else. In primary school, I had a much darker complexion than I do now, and super white teeth – the telling marks of a foreigner that betray you even when you put on your best English accent. It is just too obvious.

I bear citizenship of both worlds. I speak fluent Xhosa, Igbo, Afrikaans and English. I can make sense of Tswana and Sotho. I enjoy a good braai, I love vetkoek and bunny-chow. I can’t get enough of Bokomo WeetBix, I love Ouma’s rusks and I can pull off my panstulas with any outfit on a lazy Saturday when I want to head to town. I am the first to break it down with the ngwaza and the dombolo at the sound of some decent house music or kwaito be it in Pick n Pay or at a party.

I can sokkie and I enjoy it (albeit with my two left feet). My darkest moments can be reversed by koeksisters and a cup of rooibos tea any day. I can jump between the high pitched and arguably annoying accents of some Constantia moms, the lank kif and apparently sophisticated English of my Hilton brothers and the heavy accents of my fellow Eastern Capers. I can attempt the fast paced, lyrical Afrikaans of my coloured brothers in the Cape and I can serve you the best butternut soup you have ever known.

I am as South African as you need me to be.

But my ability to navigate all these spaces did not just happen. Learning to blend into all these spaces was a matter of survival for me.

You see from the day I set foot in Queenstown and started primary school, it was always made very clear to me that I was an outsider. I only had white friends from my first few years in school, because the other black girls couldn’t understand why I was black but only spoke in English. They thought I thought I was better than them. So I spent most of my breaks humbly eating my peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, surrounded by those who had Melrose cheese and Provita Crackers with Bovril and/or marmite sandwiches in their lunchboxes. The rest of the time I spent alone, save the few brave souls of similar complexion who tried to befriend me.

What nobody knew was that for the first three years of my life in South Africa, my little brother and I barely saw my dad more than twice a month. What was he doing absent from the home, other than selling pillowcases, duvets and bedsheets, from door to door on foot through the streets, villages and side roads of the old Transkei and Ciskei? My father would leave the house on Monday mornings after him and my mom got us ready for school, and he would be gone for days and weeks, selling the few pillowcases and bedsheets he had from door to door. On foot. We were never sure when he would return. But when he did, we were always more grateful for his safety and aliveness than anything else.

From Queenstown to Cala, Umtata, Qumbu, Qoqodala, Whittlesea, Mount Fletcher, King Williamstown, Mdantsane, Bhisho, Indwe, Butterworth, Aliwal North and even as far as Matatiele and Kokstad. There are so many other places he went to that I do not even know.

That is how my parents put us through school, until they saved up enough money to open their own little shop where they then started selling sewing machines, cotton and then community phones. Then sweets and chips and take-aways; and then hair products and the list goes on and on. It was on this that I was able to go through primary school, high school, and university. My parents have no tertiary education; it was only in their late 40s that both of them decided to register for part-time studies at Walter Sisulu to get their Diplomas. Note: Diplomas.

It took them four years, because they were busy trying to keep their kids in school, and keep selling their sweets and sewing machines while attempting to dignify their efforts with a degree.

My story is not unique – it is the story of most foreigners in South Africa. Very few foreigners come into SA with skills that make them employable here. Unless you are a medical doctor, an academic and maybe an engineer or well-established businessman before coming here, your chances of getting meaningful employment in SA are as limited as those of the United States letting Al-Qaeda members off the hook – almost impossible.

Most foreigners come to SA with the ability to braid hair, carve wood, or sell fruits, veggies, clothes, fizz pops, carpets and soap before they can find their feet here. Some are graduates…but what can another African degree do for you in SA? And any foreigner in SA will tell you that that is the truth. All of us started from below the bottom. Doing work that carries no dignity, no respect and very little financial gain. But when you have left or lost everything that you know and love and end up in a foreign land as unwelcoming in its laws and restrictions as South Africa, you have little choice available to you.

I can bet you that there is not up to 10% of South Africans who would be willing to do the menial and embarrassing work my parents and other foreigners did for as long as they did it, and for as little as they did it, were you to ask them today. So it annoys me, to the deepest part of my being when I see a South African open their mouth and cry “foul” against innocent foreigners. Let’s discuss this:

Arachnophobia – the fear of spiders.

Claustrophobia – the fear of small/tight/enclosed spaces.

Xenophobia – the fear of foreigners.

However individuals who are afraid of spiders do not go around killing spiders, rather they avoid spiders. Equally, individuals who are afraid of small and tight spaces do not go around trying to eliminate the existence of small spaces.

Thus xenophobia does not by definition imply the killing of foreigners. Yet, we continue to label this current wave of killings and murders in SA as xenophobic – and now the cooler term – “Afrophobic” attacks. Can we please just get real? What is happening in SA is a genocide, a genocide fuelled by a deep-seated hatred for which no single foreigner is responsible.

Before, you say this is too extreme, allow me to explain.

Genocide is the systematic/targeted killing of a specific tribe or race.

In South Africa’s case, this would be the senseless killings of non-South Africans, mostly those of African origin and some Pakistani, Bangladeshi and other non-African minorities.

I think the government, South African and international media are being too cowardly to call it what it is. They know what is going on in South Africa and yet they refuse to acknowledge it for fear of who knows what. Is it because their numbers are not high enough? Should we wait until a few good hundred thousand foreigners have been murdered before we speak the truth?

So now the value of human lives is being reduced to a debate on politically correct terms and phrases to protect certain interests. People are being butchered in the streets, and the country is worrying about bad PR. I hate that now, on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, everyone is now trying to say, “Oh no, it’s not all South Africans that are doing this, hey. Just a few of those people there.” South Africans are trying to distance themselves from what is happening in their own backyards as though it is of any consolation to those watching their family members being sizzled in rubber rings. As if that is what matters – true South African style.

This is not the first wave of attacks of this nature in South Africa. In fact, the 2008 attacks were much worse in terms of raw numbers of casualties suffered than these have been so far. The issue of xenophobia is not a new one in SA. However, the differentiator in 2015 is that this wave is backed by a strong ideology; that somehow these attacks can be and are justified.

An ideology that sees merit in the argument that foreigners are stealing the jobs of locals, that they are stealing their women, that these “makwerekwere” are the cause of most ills in South African society.

It is a shame how uninformed and how baseless these arguments are. Foreigners do not and CANNOT steal jobs in SA. Do you know how hard it is to get South African papers, just to get into the country – not to talk of getting a work permit and convincing any company to take on the cost of employing you as a foreigner? Unless you have some freaking scarce skills in the country – it just does not happen like that.

Secondly, just shut up and stop it. South Africans who embibe these arguments are lazy. There is a disgusting entitlement that is attached to this notion that jobs can be stolen. This implies that there are jobs waiting for you – of which there are none.

There are no freaking jobs waiting for anyone. Pick up a bucket and start washing cars. Put on your shoes and walk through your streets, sell tomatoes, eggs and tea – anything people eat, they will buy. Or pick up a book, hustle your way into university, work for a scholarship and get yourself an education. But stop this senselessness. Nobody is stealing your jobs.

I got my first job when I was 11-years-old. I worked on the school bus in my town. I collected money for the bus driver, wrote out receipts and kept order on the bus. I didn’t get paid much, but it helped me learn first that nothing comes easy, I learnt to be responsible and accountable to someone else. Secondly it helped me pay for little extramural expenses I did at school which were not the priority for my parents at the time (and rightly so). In ‘varsity, even though I had a tuition bursary, I worked two part-time jobs and one contract job for the entire three years at Stellenbosch so I could pay for my good, clothes and some additional materials etc. Yes my parents supported me as best they could, but naturally, part of growing up is that you don’t bother your parents for every Rand you need.

So people see me and my family now, several years later driving a decent car and living in an average house and they say, “Ningama kwekwere, asinifuni apha. Niqaphele, aningobalapha.

“You are foreigners, we do not want you here. You better watch out, you are not of this place,” – unaware of and unwilling to hear of the years of struggle and hustle that came with the decent car and the average house. [Which, by the way, you can never fully own as SA law now restricts ownership of property by foreigners – but that is another discussion.]

And what has been the government’s response to the worsening unemployment and crime situation in the cities and suburbs that incites this violence and dissatisfaction amongst its people? To tighten immigration laws, border controls and any little room the foreigner may have had to just maybe survive in the menacing streets of Johannesburg. As if that is where the problem began.

Is it not the way our economy is structured? That there is limited room for unskilled labour in the workforce? That those who are not vocationally trained must then settle for employment outside of their existing areas of knowledge such as artisans, plumbers and electricians – whereas these skills are equally needed in a developing economy? That we have this thing called BEE which in practice just ensures that the Black bourgeoisie get wealthier by hook or by crook while still protecting and cushioning the impact of democracy on old, white money and big business?

Is it really the little Ethiopian man with his spaza shop that is threatening your progress na Bhuthi? Is it really the Nigerian woman who braids hair and sells Fanta that is stealing your job and place in your own land na Sisi? I can’t deal.

If none of these arguments have merit for you, then think of the fact that during apartheid, Nigeria spent thousands of dollars on the ANC protecting and moving its members across borders; Angola, Mozambique, Tanzania, Burundi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Kenya, Rwanda, Uganda all housed, supported and/or trained struggle heros with open arms and with no strings attached. How dare South Africans forget how much Africans did for them during apartheid. How dare you!

South Africans, go and learn your history. When you have read your history, then please teach the correct version to your children. Let them know that Africa helped put SA where it is now. Let them know that all blacks are not Xhosa or Zulu, but that that is irrelevant to the amount of dignity you accord to another human being. Teach your children that they must work for everything they want to have except your love as a parent. Teach your children that they are nothing without their neighbour – stop being selective about who Ubuntu applies to and does not. Teach them the truth about you.

The greatest enemy of the black man has always been himself. Not the colonialists. Not the apartheid architects. Only himself.

And as long as you refuse to take responsibility for where you are now, you will remain there. Kill us foreigners or not, it actually makes very little difference to your fortunes in life, people of Mzansi.

Lovelyn Nwadeyi
20 April 2015″

I hope this madness ends quickly, and pray God keeps my loved ones and all innocent persons in Durban, Jo’burg and all of SA safe.

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Have you heard of HONY?

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About  seven months ago, I saw a very intriguing picture on Facebook.

Turns out it was profile picture for Humans of New York, a blog by Brandon Stanton.

The blog catalogues Brandon’s pictures of random  people on the streets of New York, and he gets them to talk about themselves. Recently Brandon also went on a tour with the UN to wartorn zones like Afghanistan and Uganda, to name a few, and the pictures he posted from there were a real eye-opener. They did more to open me up to humanity and humanity up to me, than endless news articles and documentaries have ever done. Showed me that we are all really just human beings, with our own pains and fears and hopes and dreams, trying to live life as best as we see fit.

My point, this fine Tuesday morning (when I should be working)? We could all do with a little bit of human empathy and compassion.

Can you tell that the holidays make me emotional and sappy? Urgh.

If you haven’t heard of HONY, and you care about what happens outside your own little bubble of a world, check these out:

(website) www.humansofnewyork.com

(twitter)@humansofny

(instagram)@humansofny

Trust me, you’ll be glad you did!

Some people just never learn…

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So, I woke up this morning to this story right here, with a little background from another story here, and immediately my stomach turned.

In resumé, over 15 Cameroonians have been arrested following lengthy undercover investigations, for Medicaid fraud of millions of dollars.

What is it with lazy people trying to give the rest of us Cameroonians a bad name? And what hurts even more is that some of these people are from my ethnic region. Plus, don’t get me started on the revolting shamelessness of using something as vital as healthcare (which people who are actually sick need) to get rich!

Non-Caucasians in general and Cameroonians in particular in the diaspora complain about discrimination, and ethnic/racial profiling, but sometimes we give our detractors the tools to hurt us. Did the Cameroonian community (those who were not directly involved in the scam) not know what they were doing? Why didn’t someone try to stop them? Why do we think that we can complain about corruption in our country, and then run off and do the same in another man’s country?

I think the Cameroonian government should start instituting punitive measures on such people. In addition to their property/accounts being seized abroad, their property/accounts should equally be seized in Cameroon. Crime should not benefit anyone, irrespective of the country. Maybe an extradition agreement should be looked into.

I’m off to tweet the President about it.

*rant over*

Have you heard this story? What do you think can be done to curb misrepresentation of a country (or region) by its people? Should our government play a part, or are they not responsible for what their citizens do abroad?

Happy New Year 2014!

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A new dawn, a new day...and I'm feeling good!

A new dawn, a new day…and I’m feeling good!

Hehehehehe, we made it!

Finally, 2014 is here. After all the preparing and primping et al., 2014 is here. 😀 And December is over with all the partying 😥

I already know what my New Year resolutions are. I’ve got three:

1. To be debt free (lol, this was my end-of-year 2013 resolution. I guess it got carried over);

2. To be happy. By fire by force. The only person standing in the way of my happiness is me. I can choose to be happy with my life, change what makes me unhappy about my life, or wallow in self-pity. I already know what my choice will be.

3. To be a blessing to those I love, by being a better person, and by having a more positive impact in their lives. Too many horrible lowlifes out there, I need to celebrate the people who make life sweeter for me.

Got any New Year resolutions? Share them, I’d love to know… and Happy New Year 2014!!

Something more than bullying…

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As if bullying is not enough to worry about...

As if bullying is not enough to worry about…

*dusts cobwebs* I don’t even say I have a blog anymore, it’s embarrassing that I haven’t posted anything in a while…I’ve got to get out of this rut I’m stuck in.

So blogfam, howz it hanging? Sitting good? Weekend went well? My weekend was fabulous, spent it out of town with friends – plus the AH-MAY-ZING football match between Cameroon and Tunisia (Go Indomitable Lions!) where we whooped Tunisia 4-1 in the qualifier to the 2014 Brazil World Cup just made it even better. Team #237 for life! Did you watch the match? what were you up to? Let me know!

Ok, on to the topic of this post. We all know that bullying is a horrible practice, and when practiced by children in schools it can have lifelong devastating consequences on the victim, and dare I say even on the perpetrator.

However, bullying is increasingly taking a back seat to actual physical violence in schools – case in point? The stabbing of a Lowersixth (aka sixth form/freshman) student by a fifth form student in a popular boarding school in Buea Cameroon, St. Joseph’s College Sasse, yesterday November 18th, following a dispute OVER A PAIR OF SHORTS!! The stabbed student has since been declared dead, and his attacker is under police custody. ‘Sasse’ as it is popularly known is a Roman Catholic institution, and has fostered some of the greatest minds in Cameroon, including a former Prime Minister of Cameroon and countless other persons of repute. Their alumni association, the SOBANS, is amongst one of the most charismatic and popular ones nationwide. So in the midst of all this, what went wrong?

This story has made me sick to my stomach – unfortunately, stories like these are increasingly recurrent. All over the world, students are stabbing other students are stabbing, shooting, beating and maiming their classmates for any and no reason whatsoever. Happens in BHS Buea,Cameroon (yup, happened while I was there), Washington, West Virginia, and elsewhere . This begs the question, what is being done about this increase of violence on teenagers, by teenagers, in schools?

Is it enough for the schools to install metal detectors, perform searches of bags and lockers and report/punish/expel children found guilty of physical violence? Or does the blame lie elsewhere?

I think it does. The parents.

I may not have any children, but I’m around children and young, busy professionals often enough to know that a lot of children are growing up in the hands of nannies, preschool teachers, nursery attendants, grandparents, and a host of other people ill-suited to raising a child with the kind of discipline often required in today’s world. Charity begins at home. How many parents correct their children with corporal discipline nowadays?Your child throws a stone at a classmate in prenursery and gives them a cut on their forehead, and you scream bloody murder when they get suspended etc from school, saying ‘they are children’!! What happened to teaching a child the way they should go, so that when they grow older they don’t depart from it? My mother whopped me well and proper when I was younger (try being the headstrong daughter of a public-school discipline mistress! I was well acquainted with electric cables and branches from guava trees, springy buggers) and I think I turned out pretty great! Forget corporal punishment – if a parent cannot pay enough attention to their sole child or brood of three, how do you expect a teacher supervising a class of 20 (or in the case of my country, anywhere between 40-100) to catch and report signs of such anti-social behavior early enough to stop it manifesting?

I think it is not enough to punish a physically abusive child, especially if this child has already displayed signs of anti-social behavior eg getting into fights, cruelty to animals, etc. The problem needs to be addressed from the root, which is the home they grew up in. Parents also need to be held accountable for the actions of their (especially minor) children. I wish people had only those children they had the time to train, and didn’t just pop them out so they could have a mini-me, or fulfill scripture and populate the earth, or whatever other silly reasons people give for having children.

What do you think? Who’s to blame for the rise in physical violence between children and how can it be stopped?

May the soul of the murdered teenager, Chu Brian Ebelson, rest in peace.

101+ Black Hair Ideas: Part One

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This was blogged by fellow blogger and friend of mine, Lydie E. of Art Becomes You. It’s been a great inspiration for me throughout my natural hair journey, and I hope it helps you too! Happy Reading, copying pasting, reblogging and implementing!

Art Becomes You

Everyone has a bad hair day. At least once fortnightly. That is the scary bitter truth. Instead of panicking, and letting your hair bring you down all day, it is best to have in mind tips that will always come in handy on such days.  When you get a new hairstyle, you have these cool ideas in your head that you just cannot wait to try out. You start experimenting these style ideas and only in the space of a week you’ve exhausted every single one of them. What next? You start getting bored with your hair, which leads to resenting it, which then leads to you not taking care of it…and we all know what happens to neglected hair (bought or natural). People start mistaking you for the Mad Hatter (Google it if you don’t know what he looks like) and we sure do not want that to happen.
I wrote…

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100 Truths about Tiki

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Hiya blogfam! So, I came accross a post by a blogger I follow everywhere (virtually of course,*wink*) @0Toxic, and I loved the idea of his “100 Truths about Toxic“. Of course you know I had to do mine! Seems a fun way for you to get to know me…and honestly for me to get to know myself, right?

Let’s find out who I am then. Catch you on the flip side.

100 Truths

1. Last drink: White wine

2. Last phone call:   My cousin Helen (otherwise known as MaRock)

3. Last text message: My mum

4. Last song you listened to: Tuface’s “Spiritual Healing”. I love that song

5. Last time you cried:  This morning. His fault.

SIX HAVE YOU EVER:

6. Dated someone twice: Thanks, but no, thanks.

7. Been cheated on: Yes. 😥

8. Kissed someone: Yes.

9. Lost someone special: Yes. Seems like too many young people die nowadays. RIP Junior, Rade, and everyone else.

10. Been depressed: Not for long. I avoid negative feelings.

11. Been drunk and threw up:  lol gosh yes. Instant malaria.

LIST FOUR FAVORITE COLOURS:

12. Black

13. Red

14. Teal

15. Rainbow (I know I know, it’s not a colour! but I just love bright colours…)

HAVE YOU:

16. Made new friends:  Not often. Lots of acquaintances though

17. Fallen out of love: Yes

18. Laughed until you cried: Yes. I even peed a little. Oops.

19. Met someone who changed you: Unfortunately, yes.

20. Found out who your true friends were: Yup. The jury is still out on some though.

21. Found out someone was talking about you: What’s not to talk about? *wink*

22. Kissed anyone on your friends list: Yes, but I promise it was during a ‘Truth or Dare’ game.

23. How many people on your friend’s list do you know in real life: About 75%, I guess

25. Do you have any pets: Nope

26. Do you want to change your name: No. Sometimes I wish I had a Hebrew name, but I like the way my purely ethnic names sound different and set me apart.

27. What did you do for your last birthday: Ate cake and drank wine at home with friends. I intend to throw a party this year though.

28. What time did you wake up today:  8:30am. Horribly late for work.

29. What were you doing at midnight last night: Hahahaha. Is this a trick question? Ok. *looks around* I was watching TV.

30. Name something you CANNOT wait for: Childish people to grow up, and Jesus to come already.

31. Last time you saw your father:  Almost three weeks ago

32. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: Meeting the person referred to in Question 19.

33. What are you listening to right now: The sounds of my colleagues roaming around the office enjoying their lunch break.

34. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes.

35. What’s getting on your nerves right now?: Or who. My boss.

36. Most visited webpage: *hides face* Facebook.

37. Current city: Douala, Cameroon

38. Nicknames: Madame. Yukie. AY. Ndiep. Obianuju.

39. Relationship Status: Single.

40. Zodiac Sign: I am Leo, hear me roar!

41. Male or female or transgendered:  Female.

42. Primary School:  PNEU Limbe

43. Middle School: Saker Baptist College, Limbe

44. High school: Baptist High School, Buea.

45. Hair color:  Black

46. Long/medium/short: It’s hard to tell with natural hair. I’m guessing medium

47. Height: 1m70

48. Do you have a crush on someone: Not right now. Do celebrities count?

49: What do you like about yourself: My resilience.

50. Piercings: Five. Two in each earlobe, one in my right nostril

51. Tattoos: None… yet

52. Righty or Lefty: Righty

FIRSTS:

53. First Surgery: On my toe. Ask my sister @MischiefCakes

54. First Piercing: As a baby.

55. First Best Friend: And BFF. Nellie Febe Etombi Fokumlah.

56. First Sport you Joined: Lawn tennis. Loved it, was pretty good at it.

57. First Pet: A bird I called…well, bird. It lived under my bed in a cardboard box. Needless to say, its life was short.

58. First Vacation: As a grown-up, which I paid for myself? Last year to the UK. This year I’m hitting Europe. Most of it.

59. First Concert: Church concert. We were big on that in my secondary school.

60. First Crush: David Hasselhof in ‘Michael Knight’. My aunt calls me Mrs Knight to this day -__-

RIGHT NOW:

61. Eating: Just had Senegalese rice for lunch.

62. Drinking: Water.

63. Already missing: My Chocolate Daddy.

64. I’m about to: Get to work.

65. Listening to: The noisy air-conditioning.

66. Thinking about: Who owes me money.

67. Waiting for: People who owe me to pay up

YOUR FUTURE:

68. Want kids: Errm. Most days, yes

69. Want to get married: Yeah, I guess.

70. Careers in mind: International petroleum taxation expert 

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?

71. Lips or eyes: eyes

72. Hugs or kisses: hugs

73. Shorter or taller: Taller. Short people freak me out

74. Older or Younger: Older, always.

75. Romantic or spontaneous: Can I have a nice mix of both?

76. Nice stomach or nice arms: Arms. I like to have a li’l something to poke.

77. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive.

78. Hook-up or relationship: Relationship

79. Trouble maker or hesitant:  Hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER:

81. Drank hard liquor: Yup. Vodka is my poison of choice.

82. Lost glasses/contacts: Had them stolen, not lost

83. Kissed on 1st date: Yeah. We ended up going steady for a while.

84: Broken someone’s heart: I would like to say no, but I’m thinking the answer is yes.

85. Had your own heart broken: Still trying to find the pieces

86. Been arrested: Thank goodness NO!

87. Turned someone down: Yes

88. Cried when someone died: Yeah

89. Liked a friend that is of the same sex: No.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

90. Yourself: Always. It begins with me.

91. Miracles: Yes

92. Love at first sight: You might not know it yet, but it sure can happen. Yes.

93. Heaven: Yes

94. Santa Claus: Mtschewwww

95. Kissing on the first date: Nothing wrong with that but I wouldn’t necessarily encourage it.

96. Angels: Yes.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

97. Is there one person you want to be with right now?: Yes.

98. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time?: Hehehehehe. On different levels.

99. Wish you could change things in your past?: Yeah.

100. Are you posting this as 100 Truths?:  Yes. No reason to lie.;)

Whew, that was long! Who next?