Congratulations. You have made it; you are a grownup now.

What’s life like there in 2012? Fuck, it’s scary just writing to you; it gives me goosebumps. It’s scary because soon I’ll be you. But it’s cool, too: I don’t have to apologise for the previous sentence.

So. Tell me. Where are you now? Are you still writing? Are you still in South Africa or are you in Brazil right now, being seduced by a hot boy? Or a hot girl?

Wait, that sentence assumes you’re not married or in a long-term relationship and that you’re living a Samantha Jones kinda life. My apologies.

Do you remember today at all? Today isn’t one of our best, hey? We’re feeling a tad crappy but it’s all good: it’ll soon pass. Heck, I actually can’t wait to go back to work next week to kick some arse!

Anyway. Back to you. God, I’d love to meet you. You must look really pretty in 2012. I imagine you are wearing designer clothing: Lanvin, Diane Furstenburg, Valentino. Wait, why not Valentino? A girl’s got to dream, right?

I suppose I just want to know whether you are happy. Yes, money counts but it’s so much better when you have someone — anyone — to share it with. We’re too headstrong to settle for enige Jan Rap en sy maat… and that’s a good thing, too.

Have you had lunch at Banq yet? No, wait, don’t tell me. I want it to be a spontaneous thing. But lunch at El Bulli, well, I can handle knowing the truth. I’m willing to settle for mediocre service at El Bulli 😉

Well, besides knowing whether you are happy I would also like to know about the men or man in your life. Have you had better luck with them yet? What am I doing wrong? Should I give the neighbour at number 12 a go? You know which one he is. Tall, Afrikaans, reads a lot, is a DIY kinda guy…

Or should I just get over Jozi boytjie first?

Feel free to write to me via return mail.

Lots of love,

26-year-old Tarah


OK. Earlier last month I had a bizarre experience with some guy. I’m not going to bore you with details of how we met; instead I will tell you why I realised he’s just not that into me.

  1. He didn’t ask me about myself. This could include my thoughts, opinions and some interesting titbits about moi.
  2. I didn’t mind splitting the bill for the evening but he ordered a rather expensive bottle of wine…and had only R50 in his wallet and an ‘expired credit card’.
  3. He took me to a dodgy place in Long Street when I had told him loooong beforehand I’m over that place. Waaaay over.
  4. He made me feel bad for not inviting him in at the end of the evening.
  5. He didn’t say “Thank you for allowing me to drink your champagne”.
  6. He slept until an ungodly hour the next morning and just couldn’t leave.
  7. He opened my fridge without asking me and poured himself some tomato juice.
  8. He broke one of my champagne glasses — van Woolworths af, djy wiet mos? — and didn’t apologise.

So what did Tarah do? He left here just after 10:00 so I sent him an email.

Last night was a fluke and perhaps it’ll be better if we remain friends.

I’m feeling much, much, much better today. I went to teh Waterfront earlier today — it’s what I do on Sundays, djy wiet mos? And I had a spin on the ‘Magic’ ride. There is a fun fair on at the Waterfront so do go. I was just worried that I’ll slip out of it. I was shaking all the time while the thing went round and round and round and round and… faster and faster and round and round a… And I have no idea what the proper name is for the ride; not even the ticket crew knew its name. *Sighs*

I’m still amazed at Jozi boytjie’s maturity. I think he’ll make some girl immensely happy. But she won’t be moi. And that’s fine, too.

We have decided to remain friends. A tough challenge cause I really, really, really like him. I’ve said this before: he’s perfect on paper.

Oh, and about the flowers that I mentioned on Thursday morning: I returned them and got a refund 😉 And I’m waiting on a hug from a certain person. To tell me that everything’s gonna be olraait and that next year will be two thousand and fine. You know who you are.

I am officially fucked up. Why did I assume that the Jozi boytjie flew down to shag me? Why is it such a mindfuck that he wanted to come ‘kuier’ and wasn’t looking to get laid?Is this indicative of all the bad relationships I have had, or does it mean that he is naive?

We spoke about this last night and we agreed to take things slowly. hmmm. It’s just so slow, though. He doesn’t touch me, even 😦  Fine, then, there were some late night fondling, which I enjoyed very muchly, but it wasn’t anything serious. And yes, we do spoon; sometimes I’m the big spoon 😉

He went to visit some of his friends in the Boerewors Curtain so I’m at home. I’m not so sure about things. I know he likes me and all but I don’t think he’s all that into me. I know the signs. And I don’t see ’em. But it could also just be that he’s still a bit shy [around me]. And that he isn’t experienced in relationships, or even kissing: he’s a geek. A hot geek but a geek nonetheless.

I started this blog just more than a year ago to deal with all the shit that have happened to me. I meant this blog to be the digital equivalent of a psychologist. I’m not so sure that it has helped: I’m still clueless about men, I’m still paranoid and I still feel fragile. The Jozi boytjie is a good oke and perfect on paper but, same as Victor, he is a big  fixer-upper IRL.

He’s not nearly as bad as last month’s hot catch, though. Or was it October’s? So there isn’t much to complain about except that we only chat when we’re with other people. This is so different from the 3435 IM conversations we have had.  He wakes up in the morning, grabs his book and reads until at least 11:00. I want attention, damn it!

And I can get it if I want: there’s yet another Gumtree oke who is interested in me. I should’ve accepted his offer earlier today to buy me coffee. I’ll give him a call on Tuesday or so and get him to take me to Pigalle.

Update @ 23:14

He’s just not that into me. He’ll be sleeping over at a friend’s tonight and tomorrow night. How I’m feeling? I’m relieved. I knew he wasn’t really that much into me but I *wanted* him to want me. Yes, this is a big blow to my ego but … another lesson learnt. He needs a smarter girl than me, anyway; I’m no match for his intellect.

Update on update @ 23:28

I’m crying.

Imaginary Facebook status @ 23:55

Tarah is wondering whether she should erase all memory of the Jozi boy: IMs, photos taken last night and all emails…

I’m confused about the boy. I really am. He flew down to visit me and had no expectations whatsoever. Yes, a boy my age didn’t expect to shag me. Was it something I did wrong? Was I expecting too much? Should I have waited for him to make the first move? Was it wrong to assume he wants to kiss me at all?

Our day started out OK: we had lunch at Den Anker in the Waterfront. He paid. I didn’t expect him to but he did. We then drove to Goldie’s in Sea Point cause I was hoping they’d be open; I wanted to buy chopped herring. Goldie’s was closed. So we came here, to my place.

We placed 2 games of Scrabble and then he claimed he’s too tired. I suggested he take a nap on my bed. I kept joking that I won’t molest him and that he’s safe. He kept saying he doesn’t want to hear such things; he was hoping I would want to molest him. So I sort of took it that he is dying to kiss me, at the very least.

Alas, reader, I wish I could offer you some good news. Perhaps he just isn’t that into me. This is, however, a blow to my ego. I think I’m a bit of a catch, you know? Young, intelligent, attractive, bla, bla, bla. Something to write home about.

Perhaps it was a mistake to let him stay here. I should’ve told him to rent a hotel room. Just a pity it’s Christmas and not some other normal day.

I hope the rest of his stay will be different. Let’s hope.

I went shopping on Sunday. It’s because my company decided to be nice and the big okes paid our salary on Friday. So I spent a bundle on food and stuff. I also walked out of a certain store wif flowers, tomatoes and fruit juice. Without paying. I didn’t mean to, I promise; it just happened.

And now those flowers are dying. Can I return ’em? Or at least complain and get new, fresh ones?

16 More hours…


OK. I am officially excited. I’ll see the Afrikaans boytjie in only 16 more hours. I haven’t been posting here that often because I’m worried he’ll find this blog. That possibility freaks me out. That’s why I had it protected for a while.

We’re having lunch at Leigh-Anne’s on Friday. It’ll be my first time at her flat. Well, I’ve been there before: back in the beginning of this year when we were considering sharing a flat. But I haven’t been there since she moved into the flat. And this means I’ll finally be able to rescue my darling Memories of My Melancholy Whores.

So yeah. Of course I’m being my usual paranoid little self: I’m wondering how this can be happening to me. I’m thinking that perhaps he is playing a joke on me, and he isn’t actually coming to visit me. Why can’t I just trust that he is? G-d, I irritate myself 80% of the time.

Perhaps I should just go to bed now or read a book, or somethin’. And not think about this boytjie. But Twitter is tempting me… I’ll admit this, though: I have been very good online. It isn’t that I’m keeping him a secret. Hell, even his parents know he’s visiting me. It’s just that I don’t want a repeat of what happened wif Victor. I went crazy on Facebook and on this blog. And it didn’t help me, right? So I’ll relax and just enjoy the next few days.

And no, I’m not planning to shag him tomorrow. Or rather, if it happens, it happens. But that isn’t the objective. The objective is to play lots of chess and Scrabble, watch Zoolander (he hasn’t seen it yet — blasphemous!), take him to meet my favourite non-dues-paying-Mensan and drink many espressos at fancy joints.

Wish me luck, will ya?

The boy I like is Afrikaans, a nerdy geek and totally awesome. I think. He claims that his nose is large. I don’t mind broad noses, though 😉

I’m not going to get excited but I am. Very much. But it doesn’t help that he’s in Gauteng and I’m in Cape Town. But I have been thinking of moving up there. Hell, I’d go back to Call Centre work if I have to. I just need a change. I’m sure I’ve said this before: I’m bored of Cape Town. Yes, there are many things to do here but … I’m young, bright and awfully pretty. So Jozi is the next step. After that is New York. And after New York? Je ne sais pas but it’ll be awesome, too.

So this boy whom I like… We’re the same age. It took me by surprise, this liking him. And it felt good when I could tell Victor that I’m ‘taken’. Yes, remember Victor? I saw him again last Friday because he wanted his books back. It was uncomfortable: he kept ‘joking’ that we should go to my place for a shag. He’s still attractive but, well, the spark is gone. He kept me waiting too long.

So. This boy. I’m not really taken but I liked the look of surprise on Victor’s face. This boy will probably also break my heart but whatever happens I’ll try to have fun. No, I’m not a cynic. I’m a pessimist. He’s almost perfect on paper, which means he isn’t, right?