39. take my leave

Boy left in a bitter-sweet haze of goodbye, I love you, I’m going to marry you and we will make a plan to be together soon. We’d only had one beautiful day to spend together under the new promise of a life together. We went walking in the park, onto 5th Avenue and took a picture of us in front of Tiffany’s before heading out to La Guardia. Seeing his tears and his brave smile as he finally tore himself away from my embrace, watching him grow smaller as he waved one last time, nearly ripped my heart out. I cried all the way back into the city.

Once Beautiful Boy was gone, it was time for me to take my leave of NYC. Lala and I had a few more things on our to-do list. We ate the worst pretzel in the world on the Staten Island Ferry (the cheapest way to see the Statue of Liberty – it’s free!), took a hundred pictures of Manhattan from the Top of the Rock, visited a friend of Lala’s at her super posh apartment right next to Trump Parc and shot the breeze with Jazz great Wynton Marsalis at Dizzy Jazz Café on Columbus Circle. As you do.

By a great coincidence we would still be in NY for Halloween! We don’t celebrate this holiday back home, which added further excitement. The night before Halloween we were at Dizzy’s. I had two glasses of excellent red wine and fell a little bit deeper in love with the city as seen from the panoramic windows with smooth, hip jazz in my ears. From Dizzy’s we went to a little hole-in-the-wall bar somewhere round Spring Street. We had a couple of beers and made small talk with the locals.

One local was a little bit odd. I can’t remember his name and might not recognise him if I ever saw him again, but I do recall how creepy he seemed. I tried to be nice and non-judgemental as he ranted and raved about bad art and how good his art was and how he didn’t even like his girlfriend cause she thought she was cooler than him, but she wasn’t… Blah blah blah the guy went on and on. Long story short, he eventually tried to persuade me to come see his art at his studio just around the corner.
By this time I was not worried about offending him any more and I turned my back, didn’t respond, ignored him completely. He got angry and rude. Eventually the owner escorted him out of the bar for being drunk and disorderly. A short while later, I started feeling sick. I asked Lala if we could go home and though she was having a good time, she agreed to come with me. We got home safely and I crashed into a dead sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I thought I was going to die. I’ve had too much drink before, I’ve mixed drinks and not slept enough and suffered hangovers I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies, but this was so much worse. I’d never felt so nauseous, weak and riddled with pain. I could hardly lift my head from my pillow, getting into the shower seemed impossible. Lala went out to get us some food; I could hardly eat a thing. I spent the day in bed drifting in and out of uncomfortable sleep filled with strange dreams.
By five o’clock, Lala urged me to get up and join her and friends at the Halloween parade. I really wanted to go, this was probably a once in a lifetime deal for me, but there was no way I could get out of that bed and spend the evening amid thousands of people in weird costumes.
Now I can’t say for sure that the creepy guy spiked my drink, maybe I just had the worst hangover ever in the history of humanity, but I guess in this twisted way I’ll never forget my one and only Halloween in NY!

The next day I felt almost back to normal. Thank goodness, because I had so much shopping left to do! I spent the GDP of a small African country on shoes, boots and Forever 21 and then fondly said goodbye to what would now forever be the city of love to me.

38. shock, surprise and delight

Once the ring was finally safely on my finger, we were officially engaged for all the world to see. We were supposed to go for dinner at the Rainbow Room, but the Tiffany’s escapade had taken up most of the day and all our energy, so we decided to rather just spend some downtime being together, cuddling and kissing and staring at Lucy. Yeah, it’s terrifically cheesy but we named the ring. Lucy for Lucida, also for Lucy in the sky with diamonds. So sue us.

That evening my Beautiful Boy took me to see Chicago on Broadway, which I absolutely loved and I suspect that he enjoyed it every bit as much as I did. I vividly remember sitting in the theatre, getting completely caught up in the action and then remembering with a shock that there was a rock on my finger. I literally got a fright each time!

Whenever this happened, thoughts would start spinning. My parents! They’d never even met him! My brother and sister, how would they take it? Sure, they liked him well enough but that didn’t mean they’d cheerfully let me marry him. My friends, his friends, would everyone think we’re crazy? When could we actually be together, would I have to move to Madison until he graduated? Spend a whole winter in Wisconsin with nothing to do but stay indoors out of the snow? When would the ex find out?

I’d focus back onto the stage, sneaking sideways looks at the Boy. He seemed in his element, as usual. Relaxed, entranced, lost in the show. I really love the way he can just do that. Be in the moment, no regrets for yesterday and no fears for tomorrow. It’s a gift. I took his cue and tried to just enjoy our date. Afterwards we had divine sushi and champagne at Blue Fin on Time’s Square – a perfect meal to end our eventful day.

I couldn’t really relax into this newly engaged state though. Not until the next morning when we both woke up eager to spread our good news to our loved ones. We found a quiet place with good reception (not so easy in NYC!) and started dialling. First up were his parents: they were ecstatic. His mom asked what took him so long! Then I called my Mom. She was surprised and a bit sad that she hadn’t met BB yet, but trusted me to know what I was getting into. My Dad was hesitantly happy, worried about the suddenness and whether I was still on the rebound after ex. Either way, they wished us all the luck and joy in the world and looked forward to meeting BB. Sheesh. Getting that out of the way felt like a weight off my shoulders.

Over a Ruby’s burger we texted all our friends and messages of shock, surprise and delight came rolling in. I was a bit worried when I didn’t hear anything from my siblings. Everyone else replied in one way or another. Also looming was another airport farewell. Before the end of the day, my fiancé (the word still sounds strange and pretentious!) would fly away back to Madison and in five days I’d leave for home. It was a mad roller-coaster ride this here girl was on.

37. guest post

My Beautiful Boy posted this on Facebook in the week after we got engaged:

We were spending a week in Las Vegas, and I had made up my mind that going to New York the next weekend would be a bad idea considering all the work I had and what that weekend would cost me. Redframe was understandably upset, but accepted it.

As we finally decided that I wasn’t going to NY, a wave of emotion so strong that I couldn’t deny or suppress it overcame me. This emotional tsunami told me what I already knew, but couldn’t formulate – I would do anything - wherever, whenever, whatever, to spend more time with Redframe. I booked my trip to New York on the spot.

Once I was back in Madison, and Redframe had moved on to NY, I started analysing what this emotion meant, and once again, came to the conclusion that Redframe was this unbelievable person that I happened to meet and start dating, and that I wanted it to last the rest of my life. I started looking at engagement rings about five minutes later.

I eventually booked a consultation at Tiffany & Co on 5th Avenue, followed by a Broadway show (Chicago, for you theatre buffs) and dinner on Times Square. Redframe knew nothing of this, even though she says she had a premonition.

On Saturday morning, 27th of October at 8:30 we started walking from our hotel towards 5th Avenue. It was raining and the wind was blowing, so all romantic notions of proposing in Central Park under the autumn leaves went out of the window. I knew that I had a limited window of opportunity to propose, because our consultation at Tiffany’s was scheduled for 10:00.

It’s all a bit of a blur really, but somehow Redframe and I ended up talking about our relationship and our love for each other and that we were so lucky to have met each other. I proposed on the corner of 57th West and 7th Avenue, in the rain, with people walking all around us, Redframe holding her umbrella over me as I bent down to tie a shoelace (that was never undone, and Redframe says she was wondering what the hell I was doing). And… she said YES!
(As a side note, about a week after we started dating, Redframe casually mentioned that if I should ever ask her for her hand in marriage, her answer would be an unequivocal yes!)

It was an unbelievable moment, both of us in shock, but so happy and ecstatic and excited.

We continued down to Tiffany’s where we were treated to champagne as Redframe tried on different rings (for all of you who have yet to buy engagement rings, Tiffany’s is damn expensive, but they have stunning rings – you get what you pay for). Redframe decided on a stunning Lucida cut (a patented square diamond that took Tiffany’s more than 10 years to develop) that was somewhat in my price range (Okay, so it was well above it, but I wasn’t about to tell Redframe that!). We had to wait until the afternoon to physically get the ring, as it had to be resized to fit her cute little finger.

I whipped out my debit card (with more than enough cash on it to pay for the ring) and presented it to Rosalie Yako, the lady who was helping us, while we two lovebirds continued sipping our champagne and lovingly staring into each other’s eyes (some kissing might have been involved as well).

Rosalie soon came back with a slight problem – probably because it was a debit card, the transaction was declined. “No problem”, I said, I’ll just go to a bank and withdraw the cash. So off to Chase Manhattan Redframe and I went, smiling and happy all the way.

Another slight problem – Chase required me to have my passport to withdraw large amounts. “No problem”, I said, and off we went, back to the hotel to pick up my passport, back to Chase Manhattan. It started raining quite heavily at this time, and although to me it wasn’t cold, Redframe has a defective built-in thermometer and was freezing her little (it's really little!) ass off.

Once we were back at Chase Manhattan, we shook off the remaining raindrops and I proceeded to a bank teller, who told me everything was fine and it would only take a couple of minutes. About 20 minutes later, another slight problem presented itself – my bank, Associated in Madison, didn’t allow large withdrawals. “No problem”, I said, even though the euphoria was starting to wear a little thin, as I phoned Associated’s customer service line.

At about this time, Redframe started saying that maybe it was a sign, and that we should maybe consider delaying the purchase of the ring until I was back in South Africa. “No way”, I said, and asked her to go back to the hotel and wait for me while I sorted this out.

Another little problem presented itself – Associated has no customer service over weekends. “Huge problem”, I said, “What do I do now?” After running around Manhattan like a headless chicken looking for open banks and trying to withdraw cash everywhere, my card was eventually deactivated by Associated’s automatic system.

With no access to MY money (what kind of bank does that????) even with a passport and proof of almost everything, I was at a loss about what to do next.

Right about then, Rosalie phoned from Tiffany’s to say that the ring had been resized and was ready for pick-up, pending the payment. I explained the situation to her, and returned to Tiffany’s in a last ditch effort to get the ring on Redframe’s finger before I left New York.

Rosalie was very understanding, and said that they could help me by taking an imprint of my card and running it through once I had cleared it with Associated on Monday morning, at which time Redframe would be able to pick up the ring. Somehow, this didn’t have quite the romantic feel to it that I'd had in mind, but it seemed to be my only option.

As Rosalie was walking me to the door of Tiffany’s, she enquired whether I didn’t have any other access to cash. I replied that I had my South African credit card, but that it had a limit of $2,500. "Oh!" she said, and told me about the Tiffany’s credit agreement whereby I could buy the ring on credit with a $2,000 deposit. My heart lifted, and I filled out the credit application forms with a smile.

But the comedy of errors was not over yet. Yet another issue reared its ugly head – as Rosalie phoned in my details, it transpired that I had no US credit history, and thus they denied my application. Back to square one.

This was ridiculous. I was just about ready to give up, when a miracle happened. Tiffany’s was hosting an event on the upper floor for their major customers where they were showcasing millions of dollars worth of jewellery, and it just so happened that the head of the credit department was there. Rosalie, being the absolute gem(ologist) that she is, told me to wait while she discussed my problem and pleaded my case with the head of the credit department.

Joy at last! My credit application was accepted, and Tiffany’s basically gave me the ring on my word, with no formal assurance that I would pay for it or even be able to pay for it.

The ring was placed in the special Tiffany blue box, and as I entered our hotel room, I saw the questioning look in Redframe’s eyes. I told her that I did not manage to get the ring, but that I got her something small from Tiffany’s in lieu of the ring.

I will never forget her face at the moment I opened the box, nor the look in her eyes, nor the feeling that overwhelmed me as I finally got to put the ring on her finger.

36. appropriate finger

We must’ve looked a pretty picture, two casually dressed relative youngsters coming through the hallowed doors of Tiffany’s, soaked to the bone and grinning like idiots. Or maybe that’s just the kind of sight the esteemed staff at Tiffany’s are used to? Either way, BB asked for the lady with whom he’d made an appointment but she was not available just yet. The kind old Gent behind the counter said that he’d keep us entertained in the meanwhile, what were we looking for? My funny bunny BB then told him that we’d just gotten engaged and that I wanted “the biggest rock in the place”.

Obviously he was joking, but Gent probably believes one should never judge a book by it’s cover and proceeded to show me a selection of rocks so big, so shiny that I was blinded for a bit. Afterwards BB told me that Gent surreptitiously flashed the price tags of each ring for him to see, at which BB imperceptibly, sadly shook his head “no, no, no, still no…” Luckily our booked assistant Rosalie then showed up and rescued us from having to deny any more of Gent’s ostentatious jewels.

BB and Rosalie had discussed price range and cut when he’d booked the appointment. She brought out a selection and while we sipped champagne, I tried on a few sparklers. I’d always loved emerald cut stones so we tried those first. Much to my dismay, it just didn’t look right on my finger. I was disappointed. I’m such an indecisive person, was this going to be a long arduous journey to find the one and only ring?
Rosalie then suggested we try something else, the Lucida. I slipped the perfectly square diamond on a wide platinum band onto the appropriate finger and my fate was sealed. The simplest, cleanest, most modern, unfussy stone of incredible clarity, it seemed to glow on my finger. Just like that, in ten minutes flat, the search was over.



BB and I were escorted to a plush waiting room, some more champers appeared and we tried to drink in the moment as Rosalie went off with BB’s credit card and my correct ring size. I was still quite dazed, but deliriously happy. We spoke about how strange it felt, like kids playing at being grown-ups. But oh, what a fun game this was.

Rosalie returned with a slightly concerned expression. “Sir, I’m sorry but your card has been declined?”

35. what love is

I stood in the rain with my little purple umbrella in my sundress and soggy suede boots, on the corner of 57th and 7th, looking down at the expectant face of a boy I’d met six months before. A boy who had unintentionally stolen my heart away three months earlier, changing every aspect of my life and all my ideas of what love is and can be. In the space of ten seconds I reviewed all my hopes and dreams and saw that yes, this boy would support me in all of them and make them come true one by one. I stammered a hesitant yes. Hesitant because he was so young and impulsive and this was so sudden and unexpected. Yes because none of that mattered when it felt so obvious and true.

I must admit that the overwhelming emotion I felt at this time was shock. I said yes, he got up, we kissed and held each other, but it felt unreal. My mind was spinning round a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t be engaged to a Beautiful Boy just three months after leaving a ten year relationship. I was astounded. The BB and I had discussed marriage often and from our first real talk at the cigar bar, we knew we both believed in it and wanted it. But I’d thought that if all went well the earliest he would consider proposing would be over Christmas back home, or maybe when he finished his degree in May 2008. But no, this was 27 October 2007, and we were engaged!

We continued walking along. The rain didn’t stop pouring down. I was completely dazed, a daft grin plastered all over my face. I knew I’d have to return to the real world, say something soon or he’d think I’d gone over the deep end. I spotted a bit of shelter and dropped my bag and umbrella, turning to face this impetuous boy. “Are you serious? Did we just get engaged? Is this for real? What the hell…” He just laughed at me and pulled me close. “Your yes was a bit hesitant, but I still think it counts. So yes, I am and we are and it’s for real. In fact, if we don’t hurry up we’ll be late for our ten o’clock appointment.”
I decided to give up the second-guessing and just follow where this positive, assured, carefree boy wanted to lead me. Which was a very good thing in retrospect, as he led me straight to Tiffany & Co. 5th Avenue.

34. hold my hand

While planning our NY weekend over the phone, Boy had told me to keep Saturday open for him exclusively. My only clues were that we’d have to be out and about by 8.30am and that I should dress comfortably but would probably want to look pretty.
I knew exactly what he had in mind: a Sex and the City bus tour! Beautiful Boy knew that it was Carrie and the girls who got me through the long nights when we were far apart, and though it would probably be a bit boring for him, he was sacrificing his Saturday in NYC just for me. What a honey! I pretended not to crack the code and feigned anticipation at finding out what the surprise would be.

We took Lala and Danny to dinner at Tony’s on Friday night and got to bed early to be ready for our Saturday morning. By 8.45 we were on the street, coffee in hand, umbrella in the other, as it was absolutely pouring! The wet added a bit of a challenge to my planned summer dress, but I decided to just add boots and go for broke. I was having balancing issues though. Somehow I couldn’t handle walking through the crowds, the boho bag on my shoulder, the coffee cup and the umbrella at the same time. How do New Yorkers do it? Respect.

Boy kept asking me if I’d prefer to get a cab, but it sounded so romantic to be walking hand-in-hand through the streets of NYC in the rain, I didn’t take him up on the offer. Even though taking a sip of coffee seemed impossible without spilling or burning my tongue or dropping the umbrella or my bag sliding down and pulling the cup away, spilling some more coffee everywhere! And my suede boots were taking a beating in the puddles and my legs were wet and my hair was frizzing and I was getting a bit hungry and… ugh! I was not handling the walk very well.

Meanwhile Boy was trying to hold my hand and telling me how he loved me and how good we were together and was I truly as happy as he felt and was I ready to really be with him and I’m thinking, in five minutes we’ll get to the tour bus or the Boathouse and we’ll sit down out of the driving rain without crowds and cups and umbrellas and boho bags and then, my dear sweet wonderful Beautiful Boy I’ll hold your hand. I’ll tell you in a hundred ways how well I’m loved and how vast my love for you has grown in no time at all. I’ll tell you exactly how perfectly we fit together and how I’m happier than anyone else on this earth. I’ll tell you how I’m already closer to you than I’d ever been to another man and that I’m so ready to remain this close to you forever and ever.

We were about to cross 7th Avenue when Boy stopped to tie his shoelace. I was still quite consumed with the business of staying relatively dry while balancing the cup and the bag, but I did have the presence of mind to notice that Boy’s shoe didn’t have any laces. That was weird. He seemed to be down there for a long time too and the crowds were surging and retreating around us as the lights changed and then he looked up at me with a little bit of apprehension and he asked me if I would marry him.

33. rundown dirty hellhole

It may seem strange that I plug all the arbitrary places we went and ate and viewed, but please try to understand. I’m from a (gorgeous, fantastic, ground-breaking) little third-world country far, far away. To us, concepts like Time’s Square, Dunkin Donuts, uptown, Pastis and 5th Avenue are all coated with the same shiny veneer of fame. These are words we’ve only heard in movies and television shows. In our geographically limited experience these streets, sights and restaurants are peopled with all the characters we know and love.

The effect this had on me was that every mundane little thing I did there was somehow glamorised and made more meaningful because I was doing it in New York. I even enjoyed my two-hour journey on the subway all the way from 181st Street to JFK, to go fetch my Beautiful Boy. We took the subway back to Manhattan again as I was too lazy to figure out the buses, though it would’ve been a good sightseeing trip! But my Boy was there, and I didn’t want to look out at the city, (sap alert!) only into his eyes.

We checked into our “hotel” just off Time’s Square. We’d booked late and we were on a budget, let’s just say that the place was a little worse for wear. Our “room” was about the size of my suitcase, but we had our own little dingy “bathroom” for which I was thankful. We’d read horrible reviews of our “hotel” on tripadvisor, which was a great idea, as we were consequentially quite impressed when we found clean sheets, no overwhelming smells and no blood anywhere!

The best feature in our palatial suite was the back wall of the room, it was painted a pure bright red. That might put normal people off for seeming a bit shady, but when Boy and I had dreamt of our One Day home, we both agreed that there would definitely be a shrieking red wall somewhere.
It’s a powerful testament to the wonders of love, that what might be construed as a rundown dirty hellhole by some, was to us the most perfect little love nest.

32. in lieu of fall foliage

New York City didn’t steal my heart straight off the bat, but maybe that’s because my heart was already filled to overflowing when I arrived there. I was a bit disappointed the leaves weren’t turning yet, but one can’t stay mad at Mother Nature for long. Especially not when we’ve been messing with her for centuries? Besides, in lieu of fall foliage she gave us a fantastic couple of hot days, chilling out in Central Park with our Wholefoods sushi, Chop’t salads and Odwalla juice, checking out cute shirtless boys. Hey, I was in love, not completely blind!

Over the next couple of days my NYC-loving Lala escorted me all over the city of cities. As it was my first trip, we started with the more obvious things. I hope to one day return* and just stroll around, finding whatever piques my interest at the time.
Our home base was way up-town round 181st street, where Lala’s most accommodating ex Danny actually gave up his entire room to us, sleeping on the living room couch for two weeks! And people complain that New Yorkers aren’t friendly? Wow man, Dan deserves a medal.

Here’s my report on sightseeing NYC 101:

Times Square: Phenomenal
Radio City Music Hall: Razzmatazz
Rockefeller Centre Ice Rink: Cute
Empire State building: High
5th Avenue: H&M
Chrysler building: Pretty
Dunkin Donuts: Coffee & unglazed chocolate donut, mmm…
Fashion District: Cool
Flatiron building: Well-rounded
Dallas BBQs margaritas: Huge
Madison Square Garden: Famous
Bryant Park soup and sandwich combo: Healthy
Bleecker Street: Rocks
Magnolia cupcakes: Sweet
Marc Jacobs: Fab
Cloisters: Fake
George Washington Bridge: Skyline
Hudson River: Wet
Starbucks tall latte: Addictive
Ground Zero: Chilling
Century 21: Overrated
Grand Central Station: Gorgeous
West Village: Hip
Pastis burger and lager: Yum
14th Street: Awesome boots
Urban Outfitters: Trendy
Wholefoods tomato& basil soup: Heart warming
Union Square: Forever 21
Forever 21: Cheap + trendy = perfect.

And once I discovered Forever 21, I went AWOL for days…

*I have been lucky enough to return to NYC since then, but was on a whole other huge secret mission at the time so no strolls around Soho then either, sigh. More on that (for now) secret mission later.

31. no

We didn't get married in Vegas.

We joked about it, I actually thought about it, we drove past a chapel or two, but alas... We said good bye at McCarran Int'l Airport (our third Airport farewell in as many months) and the opportunity for that particular crazy twist to see the light, got burnt up in the jet fuel of the Boeing that carried me on towards the Big Apple.

30. ardent wish

My Beautiful Boy and I did have one little emotional skirmish. Which I guess would count as fight #2. All through the week we were discussing NYC and whether Boy would come out there for the last weekend before I flew home. Boy had been there before and had no ardent wish to return. He also had a lot of work waiting for him at the UW and hotel prices in the city were exorbitant.

I was super excited to get to NY and knew I’d have a great time regardless, but I couldn’t face the thought of our goodbye at Vegas airport being the last we’d see of each other for months. I got a little teary and tried manipulating him into doing as I wished. It would be my 30th birthday two days after I left NY, he wouldn’t see me on my birthday or any other day for another two months. I pleaded and nagged until he finally got a bit angry, questioning whether I was asking him to be there or purely demanding it.

I finally backed off. I was a little hurt, but more embarrassed. Why the tears and the drama, when he was trying to have an adult conversation considering the pros and cons? I asked him to give me a minute. I was disappointed, and desperately wished to see him one more time if I could, but I had to be reasonable. He’d already spent a fortune on seeing me and spoiling me and he’d completely neglected his schoolwork to spend time with me. I went to the bathroom to calm down and dry my tears.

When I came back out we started making supper, the silence between us just a little bit emotional. Lala came over and we shared a nice, chatty, happy meal. I looked over at this Boy who was making us laugh so, being so kind and well-mannered and paying such special attention to my friend Lala so she wouldn’t feel like a third wheel. I accepted the limitations on his time and finances for what they were, finally realising that it didn’t mean he loved me any less.

After dinner Boy disappeared into the bedroom and I saw him typing away on his computer. Lala and I watched something stupid on TV. A little bit later Boy came out and plopped smoochy kisses all over my face. Hello, making up kisses, yay! I pulled away and looked at him, wanting to apologise, instantly feeling like a bitch for being so demanding. He had that naughty, I have a secret-look on his face. What now?
“I just booked my flights and our hotel room for your last weekend. See you in NYC, baby.” What a man.

29. tall and fragrant

The day arrived and we made it to Vegas! Lala and I were on separate flights, so she would meet Boy at the airport, they’d go ahead to the hotel, and when I arrived I’d find my own way there. I remember waiting for my luggage and wistfully thinking it would’ve been nice, though unnecessary, if Boy came back to the airport to get me. Just then I felt strong arms surround me as someone tall and fragrant nuzzled my neck.

And no, it wasn’t a baggage handler! What a man! I need only think a silly, spoilt, indulgent thought and there the Beautiful Boy appeared. He said the half hour trip in the taxi was precious time we could spend together. Ugh, I loved this man?

Ironically, the week in Vegas was the sanest, steadiest, most ordinary time we’d ever had together. Our suite was our home and Lala lived next door. We went grocery shopping and we cooked, we had cereal for breakfast and went out to dinner. We swam every day, saw the sites and did some outlet shopping. Sure, this was Vegas, so we went out a couple of nights, gambled a bit and saw a few clubs but mostly we had a laid-back chilled-out week just being together.

And it was wonderful. More wonderful, satisfying and serene than I ever knew it could be. I find it hard to describe the sense of wonder I experienced to anyone who’d never been in an entirely mismatched relationship. How the wrong personalities together just suck the energy out of both. How mind-numbingly, heart-breakingly depressing life can be when your every thought, every wish, every decision is analysed, criticised, taken apart and denied.

28. pigs ostriches and emus

We arrived at Jeremy’s ranch to find a big old wooden house filled with knickknacks collected from the flea markets in the area over twenty years. The bedrooms were decorated according to themes, in shabby-chic fashion, and I slept like a baby in my Chinese poster bed.



The next morning we discovered the beauty of our surroundings, the grass covered hills and prickly vegetation very reminiscent of Northern South Africa / Southern Zimbabwe, which is probably why Jeremy fell in love with the area. There was also a selection of animals to keep us busy and entertained. Cats, pigs, ostriches and emus all had to be fed, watered and petted. We bathed the emus with a hosepipe and then Jeremy put us to work picking olives from the bucket of a tractor. Such healthy, outdoor fun for a gaggle of city girls, we joked and laughed hysterically most of the time.



Lala and I also went up to Sequoia National Park to see the giant redwoods. I’d had enough of driving so dear Lala took on Jeremy’s mammoth truck and got us there safely through the twisty roads all the way up. It was awesome, in the traditional sense of the word, to see these humongous trees, bigger than any other living thing on earth.

At mealtimes we all cooked together in the big farmhouse kitchen and though I assure you I am no kitchen enthusiast, it was such a lovely experience! We even had a braai on the Saturday evening. Jeremy’s brother and his kids live on the ranch too and they came over to join us. John is 16, Rose 14 and they attend school in LA during the week, spending their weekends at the ranch. I hadn’t met such cool, friendly, well-adapted teenagers in a very long time. Rose had even baked us a fresh apple pie, with apples she picked in their garden that day! It was an idyllic pastoral dream perfected.

This was a wonderfully relaxing time, cocooned in nature with the exquisite company of my gorgeous girlfriends and darling Jeremy. It really soothed the relentless cycle of thoughts, doubts and speculation that had been churning through my mind. By the time we were dropped at the airport en route to Vegas, I felt excited yet calm.

I was super keen to see my Beautiful Boy and had missed him like crazy while I was sick and running on empty in LA. Now the time-out in the country had really made me see that I was still my whole, own person with my own unique character and that I actually quite liked this person and would be very happy and fulfilled in my life going forward, whether the Beautiful Boy would be there to colour it wonderful or not.

27. lalaland

I left Madison with a heavy, though happy heart. My time with the Beautiful Boy had been even better than before. We’d talked about everything under the sun, once again, and found that we agreed where it mattered and gave each other a bit of a go when it didn’t. It was bittersweet to set off on my Californian adventure. Knowing we’d meet in Las Vegas in just 10 days helped a lot!

I met Lala on the Marina Del Rey; I was driving a huge ass rental car. I’d wanted something small and nippy but apparently they don’t do small and nippy in LA rental agencies. Driving in the US was a hugely intimidating mission; we drive on the left side of the road in SA! And I didn’t know LA, and I didn’t have a GPS system. With trepidation we started off on our urban escapade.

Now I have to explain that I’m not a celebrity fan. I don’t buy or read tabloids. I follow red carpet sites and watch awards ceremonies for the fashion. I do however devour movies and seem to accumulate useless general knowledge like a thirsty sponge. So I know names and faces, and would be able to spot a famous mug or two. Thus I ask forgiveness for the shameless namedropping to follow.

Being in LA you simply cannot get away from it.
IT.
The Hollywood dream.

The players, the rookies, the professionals, the mavericks; they’re all there. Constantly hustling, persistently operating to get in, get a better deal, get further. Your waiter is never just a waiter; he’s a frustrated actor. Your maitre d’ is a scriptwriter, your beauty therapist is a production assistant and your valet attendant is a stuntman. I was almost inspired to revive my teenage dream of becoming a movie star, the air there seems so loaded with magic and possibility. I’m sure though, that if you stay long enough in this delusional Lalaland, you start to recognise that the magic and possibility is actually just smog, faded dreams and endless disappointment in fancy dress.

Regardless of my anti-celebrity attitude, Lala and I experienced an incredibly star studded week. We were staying with my adorable Model friend and her Famous Comedian boyfriend in Venice Beach. The first night there, we were invited to the opening of Robert Graham’s sculpture exhibition (he is Anjelica Huston’s husband) where we met La Anjelica, Owen Wilson, Kyle MacLachlan and the mayor of LA. Owen was very sweet, and tried hard to make comfortable small-talk, saying he’d heard there’s good surf in SA and that he’d have to come check it out. I just nodded goofily and said: “Yeah, you should”. I mean, here is this guy who doesn’t know me from Adam, yet I know exactly who he is and that just the previous week he’d allegedly tried to commit suicide over Kate Hudson! He was there with his mother, who came over all protective when she noticed her boy chatting to us. Did we look like Kate wannabes?

Brooke Shields was in the background, kids draped around her like this season’s must-have It-bag and Kelly Lynch lurked around looking thin, glam and twenty years younger than she should. We were guests of Jeremy Railton, a supremely talented and wonderfully warm-hearted art director and production designer who happens to be a lifelong friend of Lala’s Mom. I’d have to spend a whole post on this guy’s interesting life and amazing career; he’s worked with everyone and done everything! His latest project was designing Cher’s Vegas show. Not bad for a boy from Zimbabwe.

We spent a day on Ocean Front Walk and the beach, explored the delightful shops on Abbot Kinney Rd, watched the taping of a “Notes from the underbelly” episode at Warner Bros studios, had some laughs at the world-famous Comedy Store, met Jeremy Piven over coffee in Santa Monica and lunched at Moonshadows on the Malibu cliffs. Here I had the best meal of my entire life, bar none. A tuna burger so fresh, the combined flavours so perfectly balanced, argh, I have to go back there!

We also spent a night with my ridiculously beautiful Actress friend in her West Hollywood apartment. Actress has had a recurring part in a popular US sitcom and at 25 is still very much in the running to catch a big break. I really hope she does. Model and Actress took us out to the uber-trendy Green Door restaurant/bar/club. The place was stunning and packed with gorgeous people; sadly you’re not allowed to take any pictures. For the record, I wasn’t stalking, just innocently trying to get a photo of us four girls.

The next morning Actress’ friend Bond Girl popped in and yes, she has actually been a minor Bond Girl in a Bond Film. Blew my mind. As we strolled along Hollywood Boulevard, I was asked to quickly play a small part in a student production filming right there. Only in Hollywood, right? We checked out Mann’s Chinese Theatre on the walk of fame and I got a picture of Charlize Theron’s star, the Hollywood sign and one with me and “Johnny Depp” as Captain Jack Sparrow.

Overall, LA was a blast. A crazy, manic, head-spinning trip that still seems like fiction when I think back. Everything happened at the speed of light. We were out and about every day and night, sleeping fitfully for only a couple of hours on Model’s couches while her whole house was being packed up to move! It didn’t help that I had a terrible cold at the time and the driving freaked me out completely. Luckily, by the Friday, I handed the rental monster back at the airport and dear Jeremy swept Model, Actress, Lala and me away to an anti-LA weekend at his ranch in Three Rivers, California.

26. beast

While we were having the best time together every day, cementing the friendship and love that we shared, I also had to battle a demon or two on my own.

Jetlag gave me sleepless nights. Sleepless nights make me over-think everything and I start calling into question things that need not be scrutinised. In those dark, silent hours in a strange bed in a faraway place, I guess I finally confronted the changes in my life, and more particularly, why it had taken me so long to make those changes. So this wasn’t a bad thing, just a hard thing.

I’d lie next to this Beautiful Boy and wonder at his peace, his self-assurance and complete lack of doubt. I was still unsure whether it had been the best thing to come flying into his arms. I still felt like all I deserved was to be miserable for a lot longer before I’d be allowed to move on and find such happiness. I felt guilty for being so happy and cynical about the long-term probability of this love remaining as it was: sweet, selfless and true.

Compounding the issue and also proving that no one is perfect, my Beautiful Boy snored like a beast. I’m a light sleeper at the best of times, but there I was in a foreign country, a foreign situation and working through mountains of issues, with the added sleep-depriving effect of his nightly cacophony.*

But my biggest challenge at the time was that we were in Boy’s territory now. Here was his home, his life and his recent past. His single, player, boy with a cute accent past! There were girls, memories of girls and stories of girls. In our first month together back home we had told each other everything about our romantic careers and I thought I was okay with everything, but being in the town where these stories had played out made it all the more real.

Boy wasn’t shoving it in my face but little things were bound to happen. I’d suggest a cosy looking restaurant for lunch and a look on his face would quickly explain that it was one of ‘their’ places. I’d be introduced to a nice girl, spend an evening talking to her and find out afterwards that she’s an ex’s best friend. I would download our photos onto his laptop and find old pictures of other girls. Now I’m usually not a jealous girl, but in this instance, with this Boy, it was driving me crazy.

The stories of girlfriends past also made me doubt the sincerity of our sweeping romance, as he had been as spontaneous and quick to fall in love before. There was the girl he had met in Madison and two weeks later he flew her out to SA with him for Christmas holidays. Stories like this made me wonder whether our whirlwind experience was all that different or special to him in any way. I’d been in one long steady relationship for all the years of my romantic life, while he’d been wooing, wining, dining and charming the pants off girls all over the world.

*Sweetheart that he is, he bought me industrial strength earplugs(!) which I luckily got used to soon enough.

25. hooters

The two weeks in picturesque Madison went by in a haze of happy, loved-up activity. You know those movie montages when they show the couple doing fun things, falling more in love, with a catchy up-beat love song to accompany the action? I remember it just like that!

The day I arrived we had beers on the terrace by the lake, so pretty and romantic out there in the balmy fall sunshine. I don’t know how the UW students tear themselves away to class. For supper we went out to an Afghan restaurant where I nearly nodded off over my food, but I was so content just to sit there, with Beautiful Boy’s hand never leaving mine.

We went to sports bars with dollar a beer nights, American football and rodeo on the huge TV screens. I’d tag along to Boy’s black jack games and poker evenings, one night almost taking the pot. We celebrated his roommate’s birthday at the German Essen Haus where I gamely tried to keep up with the massive jugs of beer doing the rounds. We attended an MBA golf day, as Boy wouldn’t hear of me staying home alone, so I kept score and drove the cart with his teammate while he walked! I saw my first live football game when we watched the Wisconsin Badgers beat up Michigan State. I have to post a picture of the stadium; I have never seen anything like it. The spirit of unity and enthusiasm was unbelievable.






We had hot dogs at the stadium, hamburgers everywhere and some of the best sushi I ever had at Muramoto. Boy woke me up in the mornings with coffee and croissants from the shop downstairs. We’re not that used to take-away coffee in SA so even this little gesture was fun and exciting to me. I just had to try cheese curds (deep-fried cheese, yummm) and mac and cheese pizza at Ian’s and Hooters chicken wings. I insisted on visiting this venerable American institution, just had to see it for myself. We went shopping and clubbing and watched SA take on USA in the Rugby World Cup at an Irish bar, which was packed with South African dairy farmers in town for a Dairy Conference!

Boy celebrated his 27th birthday and we partied all night, and had our first fight! He asked me if I wanted to dance downstairs or go chat upstairs. I said I didn’t mind, whatever he wanted to do. Somehow we ended up mad at each other because neither one would decide what they wanted to do. Aw, isn’t that sweet? Of course making up was even sweeter.

24. cheese state

I finally arrived in Madison. Via Johannesburg, via Dakar, via Atlanta, but I arrived. My heartbeat was skyrocketing. Wow. It was real, in just a minute or two I would see the Beautiful Boy, be able to kiss and hold him. If I wanted to? Gulp!

As I stepped off the plane I had a peculiar out-of-body sensation, wondering for a moment what the hell I was doing in Wisconsin of all places and who was this Boy I was expecting to be there, waiting with open arms? For ten years every day and most of my choices were obvious, predictable, inevitable. Now it was all wide open and I had no guarantees.

If I hadn’t spent so much time with Boy’s family and friends in his absence, I might have run away at this point! They were the only reassurance I had that he wasn’t just some callous heartbreaking stranger looking for a good time. I mean, I’d just flown halfway round the world on the strength of a delirious month spent together and a couple of phone calls! Well, maybe rather more than a couple. Regardless, there I was, entering the arrivals hall of a tiny airport in the Cheese State of America; I had no choice but to keep on walking into this unmapped future.

When I spotted him, my heart skipped a beat. Man, he was gorgeous! He looked younger than I remembered, and taller, and sweeter, and… shy! There were many words I could use to describe the Beautiful Boy, but shy had never been one of them. It entered my mind for the first time that this must be as daunting for him as it was for me. We shyly said hello, grinning, and then Beautiful Boy did what he does best. He kissed me till my toes curled up.

23. signal fire

Looking at my Picasa history, I kept real busy during those five never-ending weeks.
I attended three birthday parties – including Jewel’s 30th Disco Karaoke bash – you’d have to see the photos to believe it! I took my favourite chicas to a Pink concert, joined several Rugby World Cup viewings, supported Boy’s brother’s band at one of their gigs, went to a fashion show, a Spring Ball and a couple of girls nights. Was this the same girl who preferred spending Friday nights on the couch with terrible television? And usually Saturdays too? I guess you could say my inner social butterfly had truly been liberated, hurrah!

The day finally arrived. I was off! Off for five weeks in the US of A, where I’d never been. I was going to see the best Boy in the world, live it up in LA, try my luck in Vegas and then finally spend two whole weeks in New York City. The City. I was so excited I could hardly breathe!

At the airport I was waiting for my flight to board. There was music playing. I thought it quite strange, I’d never heard music at the airport before? Then an over familiar tune started up. Beautiful Boy had introduced me to Snow Patrol (I know, where had I been, under a rock?) and we loved loved loved Signal Fire. We’d listened to it in his car the night we didn’t kiss; we’d played it on our road trip. It was ‘our song’. (I’d never had an ‘our song’ before! Another sweet sentimental first!) And it was playing out loud in the international departures lounge as I started on my incredible journey. That was just the kind of ‘romantic movie’ life I was leading! You couldn’t make this sh*t up!

This was me, waiting for my flight. The shoes were a gift from the Beautiful Boy.

20. on my way

Thus began the longest seven weeks of my life.

Except that, Boy then convinced me to visit him for two weeks in Madison, Wisconsin before continuing on my planned American Adventure with Lala, so it ended up being only the longest five weeks. He was persuasive that way!

I was so energised by our mutual adoration; I simply demanded the extra two weeks leave and arranged all my other affairs to fit in. I felt unstoppably, undeniably sure of my course of action. I was in love and on my way to be with my love.

Oh, that long distance love. What torturous rapture, blissful agony. It felt like I had acquired an extra shadow. I went about my business, did my thing, worked and socialised and talked and laughed and ate and slept, but a small, itsy bitsy little part of me was always somewhere else. Wondering what he’s doing, where he’s going, when would I talk to him again?

And talk we did. Never mind a seven hour time difference and exorbitant communication costs in Africa, we spent at least an hour on the phone every day, and more often than not, twice a day. And then there was the five to ten daily text messages plus e-mails and facebooking that also went on. It was crazy baby.

17. countdown

At this point it’s necessary to mention that there was the little matter of a trip to the States in my future. I’d been plotting together with my very good friend Lala for about a year (therefore way before I even met the Stateside-living Boy!), and the ultimate goal was for me to see NYC in the fall. Since we were going to fly so far and pay so much to get to the USA, we decided it would be wasteful not to also spend some time with friends of mine in LA and another couple of days in Las Vegas.

The week in Vegas fell in the middle of the journey, and there we’d lucked out by getting a full two-bedroom suite just off the strip. Thanks to this arrangement, we’d been inviting any interested parties to join us in Vegas. I checked with Lala that she didn’t mind, and extended the invite to Beautiful Boy. Now the whole truth would be that Lala wasn’t exactly keen to play third wheel in Sin City, but I decided that I would be a fool to be in the same country as Boy and not make every effort to see him.

Boy booked his ticket to Vegas, and we actually had a date when we would see each other again! We started a countdown, 51 days till next we meet!