Archive for September, 2010

This Mix is Freakin’Fabulous | Ep. 6

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DJ Kold Fusion for

Russian Roulette

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Further to my previous post, “Breakin’ it down | Real vs. Pseudo Alpha Males” here’s my best take on the female equivalent, from the Posers to DIVAs, and all in between. Perhaps after this the ladies will appreciate the difficulties that eligible men encounter, in trying to find a suitable partner. If you disagree, I dare you to counter.

A synopsis of the previous article, I discussed the different types of males, determined that there were loosely three types; The Real Alpha Males (RAM), The Follower and the Pseudo Alpha Male (PAM), after which I concluded that the preferable male for the serious minded, mature, intelligent professional women was in fact the RAM.

So my classes of women that I’ve observed follow:

1. The Paper Dolls
- Can be seen ‘posing’ in the club in the latest gear including the inevitable blackberry, which she is using to text her BFFs who are also in the same party (Duh. Why?).

- Can be loosely defined, personality wise, as shallow and a pack follower.

- Has no independent thought, must go to the bathroom in packs of four or more. Usually younger females, aged 18-23. Not a very good prospect for a  RAM, unless he wants all his business out in the road via BBM. Relationships, if they can be so defined, are very fleeting with these specimens.


2. The Posers
Actually a hybrid of the Paper Dolls, and may have the same age overlap (18-26), they just tend to be a little more mature.

- Not as dependent on the BBM.

- Can operate under her own steam, but tends to use men as trophies – nice car, new threads, baddest phone, plenty bling – you get it. In short, she is attracted to only PAMs until she morphs further up the female ladder. After she morphs though, does a RAM really want to interact with her?


3. Gold Diggers
The most difficult to identify of all the classes of females being discussed here, this specimen will appear to be genuine to the unsuspecting RAM.

- Appears not to have any BFFs (what woman do you know doesn’t have a BFF though?), can move on her own steam, and gives off the vibe of an independent woman. One example of this would be no ‘group’ bathroom breaks.

- She’s well mannered, put together to a tee, fashionable without a doubt, very chic, yet not over the top like De’ Bad Ting‘ (see below).

This is usually how she catches her prey. Deceipt, “come into my web, said the spider to the fly“, and then pounce. Before you know it the RAM will probably be down quite a few stacks in one fell swoop, then she will be onto the next victim.


4. De Bad Ting’
Pressure with this one due to certain skills, or so I’ve been told.  Skills that the ordinary female does not possess.

- Generally are not found in the bourgeois environment. Additionally, PAMs have been known to cultivate one or two in addition to their bourgeois PIM (professional, intelligent mature) women.

This female adds nothing to the RAM or PAM except for the purported ‘additional skills’ which are not in the scope of this article.

NB: Two (2) Bad Tings’ in one area, interacting with the same RAM or PAM will be cause for serious drama.


5. The Jaggabat
De’ Bad Ting’ squared.

Boy if I have to explain that one for you, Wow. With that in mind, we’ll leave it as… “De’ Bad Ting squared”.


6. The DIVA
All hail the Diva, “You shall kowtow before me. I am the centre of the universe – yours and mine. Begone before me“.

As said with that opening statement, you are expected to wait hand and foot on the Diva, her needs/wants supersede everyone else.

And finally…


7. The Professional, Intelligent Mature Women (PIM)
Definitely the cream of the crop for the RAMPAM and The Follower alike. She is independent and trusting. Read: No:

  • “who she?” (How do you know her… again?)
  • “wha’ she name?” (Why haven’t I heard her name before? You guys seem awfully chummy for her to be a newcomer)
  • “why you talkin’ to she?” (I’m not understanding her relevance. Care to explain?)

These ladies are caring, friendly, and generally a complement to any RAM who is blessed to be in a relationship with her (if she is in a relationship with a PAM, that’s self destructive. See previous article.

So there you have it, a broad look of the many different versions of the female homo-sapien that can be covered in this very concise article. Count them, SEVEN (7) different types of ladies to interact with. Think that’s bad?

Let me complicate this even more.


Males are generally set in their ways once a RAM, PAM or The Follower, always a RAMPAM or The Follower. Women however, like the beautiful butterflies that they can be compared to, can morph into variations of the 7 different versions. Hybrids.

Do you see how difficult that can be for us men to deal with? We can actually encounter a female who is a Poser with DIVA tendencies….PRESSURE. Or what about a Paper Doll with a Gold Digger finish? My head hurts with all the combinations….ARRGH…!!!!

Here’s more, look at this scenario:

  • Female A is a Poser she hookups with one or more PAMs, which causes her to become very jaded when looking at men in general. She morphs beautifully into a PIM. What chance does a RAM have in this situation? Does he have to pay for the misdeeds of the PAMs before him…? Is it his fault that PAMs are A-holes? See he’s starting, thru no fault of his own, last in the race. Tough break.

In closing, I would encourage women to not write-off (you know you do) guys who come up to talk to you, normally with no sexual connotations.

Sure, you may have no idea what type of man he may be (roughly 3 to pick from), but he has no clue whatsoever where on the female evolutionary cycle or what permutation/combination of the aforementioned cycle you may be at. Geeze. GIVE HIM A CHANCE.  Talk to him first before you give him the X. He may be your RAM.

**Disclaimer**: Please note that any age groups proposed here for each female class are not hard and fast, they can vary. It is possible to have a 22 year old PIM, or a 30 year old Paper Doll.

Vox out.

Photo: Roland Darby /

Breakin’ it down | Real vs. Pseudo Alpha Males

We hear it all the time. The slim pickings that women have to choose from when it comes to men. I really don’t think it’s that complicated. In my view, men can be classified into three groupings:

1. Real Alpha Male (RAM):
Natural born leader, true gentleman, monogamous individual, treats ladies with the utmost respect, was brought up and not dragged up. Does not associate with PAMs (see below).

2. The Follower Male: Generally follows the lead of the Alpha Male.
Decent human being, in presence of Alpha will not disrespect Ladies at all. Has some ‘broughtupcy’ (raised to know how to be respectful).

3. Pseudo Alpha Male (PAM):
Displays the characteristics of an Alpha male by imitation, external trappings (clothes, shoes, cars etc.). Treats ladies with utmost disrespect and disdain. Views women as trophies. Plays on womens’ insecurities.

Enter the Woman:

Mature, intelligent professional.

For the purpose of this exercise we will assume that these women are in the majority, which they generally are.

Why do these ladies continually find themselves attracted to the third class men, and then moan and groan when they find themselves in a relationship which is not fulfilling? One where the man treats them like property, continuously belittles them, treats their friends with scant courtesy and runs their lives?

Hmmm. Let’s see.

My theory is that these women are attracted to the Pseudo Alpha Male (PAMs) simply because he has an edge, a vibe that can be easily mistaken by the female for Real Alpha Male (RAM) vibes, when in reality, it is all false.  It is what is also referred to as, the ‘bad boy vibe‘. Extrapolating this, we can thus see how women unfortunately fall prey to the ‘Bad Boy Syndrome’ or BBS, because it so closely resembles the real deal.

Some pointers for ladies to determine the difference between the PAM and the RAM:

  • The RAM does not call attention to himself
    People naturally gravitate towards him – male and female alike, whereas the PAM is constantly trying to garner attention by exhibiting himself in some form or fashion. Attitude, clothing, you name it.
  • The RAM does not try to ‘get into your pants’ when first interacting with you.
    He genuinely would like to know you better first, before moving forward. He has not automatically bedded all the women that he currently speaks with /has spoken to. The PAM wants the hookup, the notch on the belt, the trophy.
  • The RAM upon receiving your number, does not immediately call i.e. within 203 days, to suggest some intimate getaway between you two, and would rather a meet in a public setting e.g. bar or restaurant. The PAM can’t wait to get you in the sack. BEWARE!!!
  • The RAM generally has no time for A-holes or PAMs and will not be fraternizing with them, except for very brief, perfunctory greetings. The RAM associates easily with other RAMs, whereas the PAM is readily surrounded by A-holes or other PAMs. Keep the eyes open ladies and OBSERVE !
  • The RAM does not continue to force himself on you once it has been determined that friendship is your goal.
    The PAM can’t stop pushing and will not take any subtle hints

When in a relationship, identification is easier:

  • have no respect for your wants/needs
  • Cannot interact with BFFs, may even try to hit on them to hookup
  • Parents are totally against him, as they come equipped with special PAM detecting devices.


  • Considerate to your needs/wants
  • usually a hit with all your friends, even de’ ‘bad man’ ex. He completely defuses a potentially volatile scenario with talk and non threatening body language.
  • Parents are in love, if not careful you may find them monopolising all of his time.

In conclusion, I can say that it has been observed that RAMs can exhibit PAM-like behaviour after undergoing certain stimuli:

  1. A Horn’ from a now ex-girlfriend
  2. Bad Breakup

Fortunately this RAM will revert to normal behaviour after a few months.

Stay tuned for the female counter tomorrow.

Vox out.

Photo: Timeless Photography /

Operation : Edit Mental Space

Ever since I was a little girl and the mean kids didn’t want to play with me, my mother always told me that I don’t have to make friends every where I go. It would be nice, but it wasn’t a prerequisite.

I have also been a serious advocate of the “clean your closet” phase of life as well, you know kinda like when in real life you remove the stuff in your closet that just can’t fit, is old news, or just doesn’t do it for you anymore. Well it works for your mental life too…

You see my theory is if you have people taking up room in your heart ,then then they’d better be worth something.

You want the sunshine bringers, and the mood lifters, the song singers and the mental dancers.  And yeah, you want the serious ones too – those who aren’t afraid to slap you upside the head and say “I love you girl but you flushing your self down the toilet. Wake up!”

You can do without the wannabe drama queens, and the people who can’t share anything of themselves, and the stalkers, you know the ones, who you just know are wanting to be your friend because they have an ulterior motive – like popularity or envy. They follow you about and wait for a photographer, so that all of Trinipulse can KNOW that they were at that party with you, and then suddenly their whole life is just like yours, even down to the look alike boyfriends.  Phone calls to you are abundant, and Ms. Photostalker suddenly will resort to using the office phone line to call you, and leave pleading messages on your phone, pretending not to know why you stopped talking to her.

Can I hear restraining order?

I believe that one should surround one self with Positive People.

How how does one go about doing this? I can only tell you what worked for me.

I wrote a list. I put the people that I really could not do without on one side that was labeled “People I can’t do without“. Then I put the people that I thought I could do with a break from on the side that I labeled “People I need a break from“.

And then I did just that.

And then of course there are the persons who didn’t make either list. What to do with them? Hmmm….

Well you dont have to do a damn thing.

You don’t want to be their friend – and you don’t have to feel badly about it.

See my mother was right. You don’t owe the world anything. The persons that matter are yourself and well… Yourself.

Sounds selfish huh?  True, but hear me out.

There some persons out there who just do not deserve to be in your life. You were nice and you opened your heart to them, and they either are too selfish to care about your needs, too caught up in their own lives, and only come to you whenever they need you do be there, or want you do something. When you need them they are never there, and when you go out in public, they do their best to ignore you as if you guys didn’t come there in each other’s company in the first place, God forbid if you were part of a group. You end up feeling like an outsider the rest of the night. Sounds familiar?

Well think about this. When you were in this situation how did you feel? Do you remember? Did the person treating you with such scant courtesy think about how you felt?


So why are you wasting precious time worrying about their feelings? Just move on.

Shut the door on that and hop on a train to Happy Fun Times!  Chances are they won’t miss you anyways. And if they should call? Hit the End Call Button. That works really well. Well, it does for me.

You need to find what works for you.

Sure, people might get a little hurt, some might ‘tote’ feelings, but in the grand scheme of thing’s, you didn’t mean that much to them anyway, so they’ll get over it.

And you? You get piece of mind, a clean mental closet. and more time to love those who love you.

A life that is worth living, is shared with the people who help make it worth living.

Finally a Catch 22 that makes sense.

Forward ever.

What’s an Island Girl to do?

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I am in the market for both an apartment and for Mr. Right.  Sounds pathetic, desperate and clichéd, but you know what?  It is my Island Girl reality.  In my search, some Mr. Hell-No-You-Are-So-Wrongs have made brief, amusing, and sometimes ridiculous appearances. Case in point:

Scenario 1:

I am rushing to get the car out of the garage, because I am trying to beat the morning traffic. The sanitation engineers (garbage men) come along to collect the trash.  As I close the gate so the two vicious Rottweilers don’t get at one of their favourite snacks, (the other being the postman),  one of them says to me:

“Baby, you, me, a bottle of Correia’s Hard Wine and Richie’s!”

Now Richie’s is a local bar where you have to duck to get in the door. It is pitch black, crowded with men with gold teeth, and your shoes stick to the floor. Let’s put it this way, my father would return from the sea, in which his ashes were scattered, and kick my assets from here to eternity. I politely thank him for the invite and wish him a great day, lest he leaves my rubbish to pile up. High.

Scenario 2:

I have parked at the mall. Rushing to get to the store, I encounter one of the security guards, who is sporting a wicked grill in his mouth and he says to me,

“Psst! Psst! Family! What I will do to you family!”

Then he does something that involves his hand, his, um, nether region. I threw up in my mouth, I swear; This so wrong on so many levels.  Firstly, you, who have been entrusted with my security, are sexually harassing me. Secondly, you would do that to a member of your family? Ew! Beast face on as I brush past him, and a quick prayer to the Almighty that my car is not keyed, the tires will still be inflated and Security Slime is not waiting out there when I return.

Scenario 3:

Party jamming.  Music playing. Drinks flowing. Nice man everywhere. My dress is hot – short and tight in a totally Kim Kardashian, non-prostitute way, legs waxed and gleaming. Nice man everywhere. Who approaches? Expatriate, probably working with one of the oil and gas companies, about 250 pounds of fat, an annoying Texas accent and smelling of bourbon.

“Can I buy you a drink honey? I have been waiting here all night for you to walk in the door.”

I look around. I shake my head. I look in the mirrored wall at our reflections and think:

**He for real? He and his cowboy boots for real?” **

I politely refuse; show him I can well afford to get my own drink, and spend the rest of the night ducking George Bush, as he was nicknamed after that night.

This is but a sample of the sad state of affairs.  Now, I am sure these guys are perfectly lovely, but as they say,

This stale bread is looking for another type of mouldy cheese.

I have been scarred by these experiences, vacillating between periods of lower-than-the–line-in-the-road self esteem, to an over-inflated ego that makes me think,

**Wait, he see me?! He CANNOT be serious.**

My other friends also have had the same experiences.  It is an island phenomenon.

What can we do? What are we putting out there that attracts these lovely gentlemen?

Well, the theory is that they know they can’t get through so they put it out there anyway.  If it a PG kind of thing, they get a smile and a laugh and it makes these guys’ days. It if it a rated R to X, they get a what-the-A-double-snakes and all other kinds of strong language.

Why is it so hard to get a guy? My friend Damon, who I love to bits and my mother maintains was the man for me, has told me in frank, simple language when I complained about the no man situation:

“You intimidate men.”

Eh? What’s that? Me? Apparently I do.

When Damon said it, apparently all other men in my life decided to come out of the closet with that one.

My brothers:

“You too aggressive! And do not tell men you could fix a toilet!”

My closest male friend at the time said:

“You don’t ask anyone for advice. You just charge ahead!”

He has since been relegated to bottom of the barrel after I told him stick to engineering and I’ll will do the PR – I mean do I tell him how to build a bridge? – Another story.

A work colleague:

“Girl, when you walk, you do not look right or left. You look powerful, purposeful.  You look like you do not need a man!”

A married friend, who bought an Audi for his wife:

“You drive a convertible, an European car. Man looking at you and saying they can’t afford you, either that or you pretty much can buy it on your own!”

Eeek! What?

So in other words, being self-sufficient, having a strong opinion, walking with your head up with one foot in front of the other, opening doors for myself, and paying back a loan for a car makes me unattractive to men who I would like to approach me?

So, in typical human fashion, I will blame everybody else for my present woes. I went to an all-girl high school, where opinions were encouraged (radical for a Presbyterian school). My mother sent me to learn to walk when my classmates entered me in our high school’s version of Miss Universe. My job in PR has made me accept that I open doors, and lift boxes and chairs. My divorced mother, who we fondly refer to as Macgyver, can make a seven-course meal using dental floss, crazy glue and day old spaghetti. And my car? I could not resist the Pug. A drain on my resources, yes, but I Iove her! Oprah – I also blame Oprah.

And, for entertainment sake, just  what will make me more attractive to the men I find fit? All those silly books – you know the ones that tell you as a woman how to act, because the guy lives in a different solar system to yours – they don’t help.  They may be better fit for the London or NYC girls, but those rules do not apply in the islands. Apparently, I have to simper and sigh, walk with my head hanging below my neckline, complain about the possibility of having to replace a cracked toilet seat, bring in the goats and maybe even swoon. I feel sick already.

So the question is:

Is this really my issue? Or does this fall on the guys this time?

Why should a man be intimidated by someone who needs them, not for money or fix-its, but for companionship, love and emotional and spiritual bonding.  Okay, I may have just answered my own question.

Island Men still feel they have to swoop in. Their insane need to be practical, logical beings is clearly challenged by a woman who also wants to be practical and logical. They’re still looking for wife, mother of their children and needy soul, maybe not equal partner.

What’s an Island Girl to do I ask? Compromise? Eschew the learnings and teachings of parents, instructors, Oprah, and self-help manuals? How the hell I am I supposed to find Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now if they are basically afraid of me?

Advice please.

But for now, on to other things.


This Mix is Freakin’Fabulous | Ep. 5

Monday’s never sounded so good. Press play and cut a rug.

Track Listing

  7. JAY-Z – I KNOW

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DJ Kold Fusion for

The Departure | Silver’s [Dreams] “Come True” (+ Video)

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A few weeks ago a friend of mine, Ian Lee, an upcoming artiste who goes by the name of CYLENZ, introduced me to a guy who he referred to as Silver at the GSUS showroom in Toronto, Canada. Both members of the unofficial group – GSUS FAM, they were fastidiously working on some dope sounding beat when Lee interjected:

“He used to do hip-hop but now he sings… listen to this track and tell me if it not bad!”

Clearly I was conversing with a fellow Trinidadian.

YouTube Preview Image

I heard the song, saw the image of Seal performing on a large stage ala Kiss from a Rose”, and at that point wondered why anyone who can produce a sound like that would have been rapping in the first place. Anyways, the moment was fleeting as a lime with good people, great convo and even greater food and alcohol followed, so I didn’t think much of it.

Then I attended the launch of said Silver’s  first single Come True, the same song I had heard that had me reminiscing of the days when I used to receive love letters that flat out plagiarized Seal’s work. I have to admit, with such a laid back, life loving, and refreshingly humble personality, it took me a minute to associate this same individual who I sat and had drinks with just about a week before, with the one who was now getting accolades from his peers and industry peeps alike.

I went. I reveled. I left. I reveled some more at an after party. I left again. Repeat.

I must admit that I still wasn’t able to make the connection. This guy was way too cool to be a rockstar.

Thanks to friends in high places, news of the GlamityCalamity blogazine spread through launch like wildfire, and so an interview was organized between said artiste ‘Silver’ and me, well… ‘Nova, the writer.

The interview at Starbucks (fast becoming my ‘interview place’), was just as laid back and relaxed as I would have expected, and went a little something like this:


First things first, I needed to find out who was this ‘Solitair’ that people kept referring to? Kardinal even made reference to that name in the video. What’s that about?

As it turns out, Silver previously went by the name ‘Solitair’, a Canadian hip-hop MC and producer, who has been professionally pursuing music – both writing and producing, for about 12 years.

On Silver vs. Solitair:


They seem to have a similar love for music – the love just manifests itself in different ways. I gathered that Solitair is more hip-hop based and Silver represents everything else about music. Come True, the first single off of the re-branded artiste’s album ‘The Departure“, is a UK chart climber and top 10 single that is R&B influenced for sure, but it would be dangerous to ignore the infusions of the pop and rock styles in the mix.

The video, Come True, which was released on Sept 2., appears to document the quintessential ‘dreams’ story – The dream of achieving something that an individual believes that society may view as far too out of the box for them, so much so that the s/he would choose not to share it with anyone and is, in some kind of way, haunted by the desire to fulfill this need to become something more, almost to the point where the individual appears to secretly live two lives. Well, that’s what I got from the video.

When asked if this song was born out of a personal experience, Silver remarks that everything that he writes undoubtedly stems from a personal place, after which he seeks to broaden it so that his fans, from all walks of life, can somehow, someway, relate their experiences with those of his own.

he explains:

“The song, and by extension the video, speaks about having personal goals and attaining success in whatever it is you set your personal goals to be… music or otherwise. A lot of great art out there is either born out of great joy, or great pain. For me, there was a stressful period in my life where I was deciding in which direction to go musically.”

On choosing the title of the song:


“There is a reason why I chose the name “Come True” instead of “Dreams” - You can’t tell in the video if they have pursued their dreams or not… It’s the idea of writing to myself as I start this new musical journey. Just because there is a possibility that you may not succeed does it mean that you shouldn’t try at all.”

On working with fellow Canadian hip-hop artiste and record producer, Kardinal Offishall, Silver explains that it wasn’t an entirely new experience for him – he has produced one of the records that Kardinal is most known for, “BaKardi Slang”, and has performed and toured with him as background support. However, they’ve never worked very much in the studio together. Silver attributes this, largely, to their different approach to creating music.

“Kardinal is very disciplined. You can find him all day every day in the studio. He has the ability to put himself in the head-space to create music – he has incredible energy and flow. My approach is somewhat different. I have to find that head-space in order to create – I have to be inspired… that timing is different.”

Of course there was the obvious question. In the battle between Silver vs. Solitair in the public’s eyes: -

Does “The Departure” the album mean the end of Solitair as we know it?


Does he prefer one or the other? Why go in the direction of the current single?

“Rather than suggesting a ‘leaving behind’ or ‘last album’, the album name represents more of a departure from what people have come to expect from me. It’s a departure from the stereotype that I’m just a hip-hop artiste.”

Silver paints the picture of his future musical aspirations.

Accepting the challenge to be a student of his musical influences – Coldplay, Janelle Monae, and Andre 3000 to name a few, Silver seeks to take cues from their musical style. He explains:

“Take Seal.. or Radiohead for example. That big sounding… rush of blood to the head… personal… moody… scene setting music. That’s where I aspire to be musically. To go on tour… to entertain with lots of levels in one show – from energy, to intimate, introspective or personal songs…”

With this vision, Silver is excited about getting to experience the record in a whole new way – as an artiste of the world, and, as he puts it, the change of  ”not having to jump all over the stage all the time to get a reaction”.

Something else that influenced Solitair’s decision to go Silver, is what hip-hop has come to represent.

He explains that hip-hop is a fueled by a young crowd, and speaks to the fact that it’s amazing that Jay-Z is rapping at age 40 – not something that can be achieved quite easily – and that to excel in hip-hop, you really have to continue to release music that’s geared to the moment. Making reference to his age and the length of time he’s been  in the industry, he speaks on the direction that he’d like to go in his career.

“The musical industry is in decline. To have a number #1 single, sure it’s a great thing. But, to be able to still tour like U2, performing music that was produced years ago, and be sold out everytime? That’s a blessing. That’s where I want to be.”

Of course came the obvious question, “So what happens to Solitair now that Silver’s here?”

“Well… Really I hate the idea of people expecting me to be just one thing. I started as a producer so I’m not going to say no, I’ll never [do hip-hop] again, but that this point I’m focused on my other goals musically. I’ve purposefully changed the stage name so that people [who knew me before] can better understand who I am now, and what my new sound represents.”

His new-found listeners? They get to hear Silver in his purest form, without the interference of what went before.

So where does Silver go now?

“It’s not about just experimenting. This is infact a direction that I’m interested in pursuing, so I will release a few more singles, so that people get can recognize and identify this new sound with Silver, before I release the album.”

I can imagine that consistency would be key.

In indirectly related events, Silver also speaks to at-risk youth at high-schools in Toronto, Canada.

In short, Silver possesses tremendous knowledge of the industry, passion for his work and inexcusable talent. In a society filled with quick-gain searchers and fluffed up chests, it’s a refreshing stance to experience.

I now get it.



For more info on Silver: Web: | Facebook Pages: Silver / Solitair

Duh. She’s Not That Into You.

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Issue Critical : ‘Men need to open their eyes and make a proper assessment when they meet a woman, before assuming that lady in question wants more that a friendship.’

This is how I’ve calculated that women’s mind works guys. Check out this scenario.

A woman meets you for the first time. You are introduced to her by a mutual friend (situation works best if mutual friend is another woman). You seem to hit it off and you’re having a really good rapport, good conversation (no excessive flirting, no physical contact) so you figure

*hey, why not? Lemme ask for her number.*

You are fortunate enough to be given said number, and so by this time you’re saying to yourself.

*I’m the shizznit, she’s really digging me….*




This will be the blink just before you put your foot in your mouth.

Her apparent thought process will include at least one of the following:

  1. You’ve been introduced to her by one of the friends that she trusts, which will most likely lead her to believe that you are not a complete A-HOLE (a trait that she may have associated with most of your species). You have been given a free pass to converse, and maybe, and occasionally, take a little dance (in the event that soca is playing – for all my Caribbean folks), and everybody gettin ‘on bad (having a fantastic time at the party – for my non Caribbean folk). Just a little cautious wine, (complex and dancing movements that involve heavy/ rigourous hip gyrations) – and definitely, No Hands..!!
  2. She will speak to you initially out of respect and politeness to her friend. Don’t take it for anything else.
  3. It’s been said that, within the first few minutes of meeting a guy, a woman knows within the first few minutes of meeting would have already decided whether you are going to be classified as:
    • A Friend (F)
      Purely platonic relations. NO PHYSICAL !! aka – She’s not attracted to you whatsoever. Hard luck.
    • A More Than Friend (MTF).
      The possibility of an some sort of relations exist, usually with a little bit of the eros in there somewhere.
    • One Nighter (ON or FB).
      You can possibly fill that need of hers to release that bodily tension or stress, or just have good times – ones that last usually just a few hours, and do not, under any circumstance, extend or relate to any interaction that she may have for you whatsoever the next day. You get my drift.

Let this be a recurring script in your head, the one further away from the ground.

If you’re classified as a friend, that decision has been cast in stone.

Nothing you say or do can and will change that outcome. You have been deemed unworthy of an MTF or ON status. Of course, this may not be your ideal scenario, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing either. After all, you may have the makings of a really great friendship. What you do with this situation is entirely up to you.

Too many times I’ve seen gentlemen throw themselves at women, and actually believe that they have a chance at something besides friendship, just because the woman in question responds. Chances are, if she not even a little bit into you, she’ll never be. Accept it, move on, and learn  how to read the signs so that you won’t lose a potentially good friend and/ or frustrate the living daylights out of yourself.

Some of the identifiers:


Same scenario as above; You get introduced to the new lady by a mutual female friend. You are talking – amazing convo. Suddenly she’s closer to you. Her hand may ‘accidentally’ touch yours, or she may find various different excuses to lightly caress you – largely in jest or to perhaps assist you with something. She is very attentive to you and your needs. If you’re in a club, she might even offer to go accompany you while you get her a drink.

This happens? Yeah. She’s definitely into you.

Sure nothing is cast in stone so this is not fool proof. I know that I’m going to get, “but I got into a relationship with a really good guy friend of mine and we’re still together and I didn’t classify him as a MTF or as ON…what gives….?”

Oh boy, I’m gonna have fun with this one, YES YOU DID…!!!!! You see women, being the generally decent and well brought up individuals that they are, do not like to ‘mash up ting’, so if the following external stimuli are applied, then you will classify the man in question as a FRIEND, but deep down, you know you want him:

  1. He’s in a committed relationship
  2. You’re in a committed relationship
  3. You dating someone but you ent’ sure yet…

Lemmi hear yuh now.

Vox Rationis

Blues Clues | Find Your Fashion Sense

I love shoes. They’re like my foot orgasms.

Personally, shoes (and clothing for that matter) are an expression of my inner being. A reflection of my inner thoughts, shoes are my opportunity to step into the world with wild abandon. On that note, I also like my jeggings, and my extensions. Sue me.

There is a reason there are stores out there with a plethora of new shoes, and clothing. This is so that when the old ones get ratty and disgusting, new ones can be purchased.

Not quite sure why this will come as a surprise to anyone, but I didn’t know that it was going to be necessary to inform certain folks on how/ when to exit your comfort zone.

“Whatever does she mean?” You ask.



We live in a brutal world, one where first impressions last. I will be the first to tell you that that mess stinks, I mean who wants to be seen as that shallow? Unfortunately, that’s the way it is. It’s a mind game, honey-pies. If you want to win, you have to learn the rules ofthe game.

The average person out there will treat you exactly how you treat your self. If you show up everyday with scant respect for your self, then guess what the world will do? They will wipe their feet up and down your rump. Twice.

And so it is with great trepidation I write on…

When to throw away the clothing that does not respect your body.


1. Stained, holey underwear, bras, tights and stockings are a distinct no no.

Nothing is worse than you going out for a night on the town with your significant other or new/ old/ borrowed, right-now, eye candy, and dude is about to get lucky. However you have to get undressed in the dark, because your underwear looks like it’s as old as X-men’s Wolverine, having lost the battle between the mutants and the humans. That ish could never be sexy.

It makes sense that if your va-jay-jay is your most prized possession, then you would want to take care of it. You know, take it to the doctor twice a year and yes, clothe it in breathable, pretty things. How do you expect someone to treat your lady parts with respect when you clearly don’t do that for yourself?

Sure, it’s not easy with the Uncle T.O.M.* popping in every so often, but we can’t let him get the better of us and make this be our staple. Let’s keep the sexy stuff for the nights out on the town and the hardware (those bingos) for the old Uncle.

*Uncle T.O.M. being Time Of Month.. whom I am of the opinion has to be a man since another woman would NEVER inflict those nasty hormones on another human being.

2. If you must, “comfy clothing” such as sweatpantS, short shorts, ratty vests, and your boyfriends old college t-shirt should remain at home, away from public view.

There is no reason to dress like that outdoors, even if it is just to go to the drugstore, EVEN if it is that time of the month. It’s appalling. Whatever happened to a simple pair of jeans, a baby tee/ vest and some clean sneaks, or pair of sandals, or some rocking heels (but that is just me…)

Dressing down doesn’t mean dressing down and out. Why leave your house in some hotshorts, that have seen better days, and apparently better arses, since you may or may not have packed on a few down there. Just so that we’re clear, no one wants to see your cheeks hanging out of a grey shortpant that does nothing to flatter, or tell the world of the great respect that you have for yourself. Normal jeans and a tshirt will do.

Please and Thank You.

3. If I see one more jacked-up, shoe mess I just might explode. If  the shoe is missing heels, and make that scraping sound when you walk, guess what? Something is not right. Either have them repaired, throw them away, or wear another pair from your closet.

Safety pins on sandals, and busted sneakers… oh come on. If the fake leather is flaking off, then leave them at home please. And, oh gorm if yuh damn shoes talking to you, doh talk back – fix them or throw them out.
Shoes that have lasted 15 years should be left to die. Don’t attempt resuscitation.

4. Belts, jewellery and handbags that look like your dog chewed them should be replaced. Dirty head bands and hair accessories should either be washed or thrown away, or given to the aforementioned dog.


1. Holey undies are an issue.

If you don’t have to remove your undies to utilise the toilet , there is something severely wrong with this picture.

Your mother was right. Dress as if you may get into an accident, for you never know who you may meet.

While on the subject of undies – keep them in your pants. No one cares if you are wearing Fruit of the Loom, Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein or Armani. Pull those pants up to where they belong.

2. Wear your size.

Clothing that is either too tight, or too big is not a fashion statement.

3. Ratty pants, ripped jeans or surf shorts, pants with oil markings on it, T-shirts that are ripped or stretched at the neck and arms, or anything that should be bound for the bin should not be intercepted.

4. On the subject of shoes, if it’s falling apart on your feet, that’s usually the last sign that it would give you that it has seen better days. Gluing them back yourself to some semblence of order doesn’t cut it.

It’s really not rocket science. Dress yourself with respect, and others will respect your self too.

End of story.

Forward ever.

My Room. My Island.

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I am an Island Girl. In my part of the world, I would also be referred to as a Caribbean or West Indian woman.

I live on a piece of land surrounded by water and I love it. The sun shines most every day, and when it rains, it pours.  There is the beach, Carnival, Christmas, fetes and limes – both of the tree and social gathering varieties. We have religious freedom and a multitude of creeds and races that make it one of the most special places on Earth.

But who is this Island Girl? Well, I am 30-something years old to start with, though I freely admit that I do not feel a day over 22 and they tell me I look like 25, so lets go with that shall we? My CV reads normal for the most part – single, working girl, who doesn’t necessarily like her job. Loves shoes, bags, MAC makeup, her Ipod, and connected on a deep and spiritual level to her Blackberry. Looking for Mr. Right, but in the interim would settle for Mr. Right Now.

One difference I may have with my fellow London or New York 30-something year olds is that I live at home.  Yes, that’s what I said – I live at home with my mother, my two, over-30-something, brothers and two dogs. If you think reading it is depressing, try writing it!

Why? You ask after you have picked yourself off the floor either from laughter, or fainting with shock and horror? I will freely admit to never seeking it out –  That’s why.

Become me for a moment, and imagine this.

You have just emerged from earning a Master’s degree. In the islands, this makes you a freaking star.  You are the apple of your parents’ eyes. Red carpets are rolled out for you. Your favourite foods are prepared in your honour. You are a family legend!

You jump at the first job you get – a government gig of course.  You work for less than the cost of a Birkin bag, but you enjoy it.  Your parents do not ask for rent –

“If you want you can contribute!”

Famous last words.  No, I do not want to contribute, and so the pittance is spent on drinks, reasonably-priced clothes and birth control. Oh, and  of course gas for the second-hand car your father purchased for you.

One year rolls into two, and two into three.  Alcohol prices increase, but you do not care. You go to family planning to get subsidised pills, because it leaves more money for drinks! Your boyfriend (sorry, in my case, the man I was sleeping with exclusively – will get to him in another blog), lives in his mother’s house, so really, life is perfect.

And then year three rolls into four, five, six, seven.  You have changed jobs, earn a better pay, work closer to home so you burn/ buy less gas.  New car beckons and not an ordinary car – It’s a two-door, convertible, black and hot.  Your hair goes from its natural brown to spiced coffee with gladiator gold highlights. Your suits are all black. You are cool. For all these things and the fact you are still required not to pay rent, or even a telephone bill, even though you are calling Germany every other day cause your ‘exclusive man’ is on a two-year engineering job there.

You immerse yourself again and realise along the way, somehow, your mother saw through the veneer of a Master’s degree.  Phone bill – check. Help put your brothers through school by helping with a re-mortgage payment – check! Continue paying car loan – check! Take loan for some other thing you do not even remember – check, check! Moral of this story – money done; and so paying rent is not an option.

Suddenly, you are the loafer child, who is not saving any money. In short, you kind of scrunting.

Your employment bonus comes. Trust me, you will need a new pair (or four) of shoes. You don’t learn. You are still in the bubble, until Mr. Exclusive returns from Germany, purchases and moves into a posh townhouse, one hour’s drive from his mother’s (and your mother’s) house. Yes, the island is that small. He did not ask you to go with him. You are shocked.  Then one day, you try to close a bedroom door and get a lecture about locking doors in ‘my house’ – veneer torn down!

And then the thirties hit and you emerge from your bubble for a breath. This breath coincides with a housing boom, an industrial boom and an increase in rents.  No joke.  A one bedroom in this island paradise will run you a cool US$1500.  And that’s the next thing, rent is now quoted in yankee dollars. Your goose is cooked.

Have I horrified you enough?

Here I am, in a room I have occupied since I was four years old. The furniture has changed to accommodate my growth spurts. There is now a television, phone line, book shelf, larger cupboards – do not get me wrong,  I thank my mother for these things.

But my need to ‘turn my own key’, to borrow my friend Mimi’s husband phrase, is my biological clock.  And surprisingly, a lot of my friends, both male and female, are in my position.  That’s an island thing, do not ask me for statistics. This is the islands, we do not measure those things.

So my quest is to find a lot of things within the next year – a house, a new job that can pay the rent, and a decent enough guy, who will at least put the toilet seat down and install a wicked sound system in *ahem* my apartment.

I love being an island girl, but my room cannot be my island.

On to other things.

Island Girl

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