Tuesday, September 23, 2014

French?

Back to my new roommie, Carly.

Busy as a bee, she would get up in the morning and head for work in Santa Monica where she worked as a waitress. She would work double shifts etc and work on her off days. That girl has a strong work ethic; commendable for a 21 year old model. She could easily be a spoilt brat. I'm not judging, big ups to all the spoilt brats of the world; Hashtag I N V U! Plus he dad pays her rent, which is the most expensive bill.

She was looking for a boyfriend. She joined Tinder. I checked it out; not for me. It seems more like a hookup site than a meet-someone-for-a-real-real-relationship-site. Wait, is there such a thing? At the risk of sounding like I'm talking to myself, yeah, kinda, there is. Sites like Plenty of fish or POF are more hookup sites in my humble opinion. If you happen to have met someone on one of these sites or any site for that matter, please share below on comments, or facebook me, I'd love to hear about it. Or you can still hit me up, let's talk about whatever you wanna talk about.

Speaking of talking, how do you girls (or guys) feel about the men who send you a friend request on Facebook, you accept, then immediately message you, asking to be your friend? I tell them, I have just accepted your friend request, we're friends, pls don't inbox me again! Yesterday, I got a friend request from a man in Ghana. At least his profile says he's in Ghana, he could be anywhere really. He is friends with a friend of mine from here in Vegas. I normally, I know this is going to sound hypocritical to people who are not from South Africa, don't accept friend requests from people from other parts of Africa. I say this with love but I have had bad experiences with those 'friends' before. I made an exception with this one because I think I remember my friend had told me about him before, I had warned her about befriending African guys but she seems to have a soft spot for them.For the heck of it, I accepted. Before the ink even got dry on his notification page about me having accepted his request, I got a Hello dear. That dear makes me wanna shoot myself three times in the head! How are you? Nice pic! Can we be good friends? How does it seem normal to this guy to request to be someone's good friend? Like in which alternative universe do people say such things? Or am I the odd one here? My response was Pls write me on my wall. He said cool. Half a second later, he sent another message. I copied and pasted, pls write me on my wall. What I mean is, don't say things to me that you don't want to say in public. I don't want to have that kind of a relationship with you, plus, I don't know you WTF?!?!?!?!?! He messaged back, but I like messenger. Excuse me, but is there somewhere on my page where it says, BABALWA BROOK, WE AIM TO PLEASE? I don't give a flying rat's ass if you like messenger or not,  I like using my wall,  now what? Anyway. I didn't bother responding to his likes, I just blocked him. Was I harsh? Do you guys enjoy messaging guys you don't know on Facebook?  I have my regular people that I don't know in person but have exchanged comments with over the months and years, those guys can and do message me anytime and it's not weird. But I am weirded  out by guys who I wasn't even aware are on my fb friend list, who send me things like, hey, why are you up so late? (Usually, this would be someone in South Africa who is not aware that I am in a different time zone), what are you looking at online at this time? Or hey sexxxxyyy. how r u? Let me know when you're back in SA, I wanna tell you something. OR I am stuttering, I wonder why? I heard you on the radio this afternoon and thought I have to talk to this lady, what a voice! But now I am stuttering. Do you know why?
Anyway, I talked to my Vegas friend about her friend who had added me and she told me he had professed his love to her over the months. He told her that God picked her for him, he wants to be together soon. When she told him that it would be a while before she went to see him in Africa, he asked her to hook him up with one of her friends.

Carly moved in over the weekend, she worked the entire week. So did I but my gigs are flexible. I lived and worked in Hollywood mostly, so I could walk home in between shows etc. She worded an hour away, until 11 pm or so, so she would be back home after midnight. She was always talking on the phone when she arrived. She would usually finish up the conversation before walking into the apartment, which was nice but unfortunately, the walls are so thing, and at 1am, I could hear her from down the hallway. I felt bad for my neighbors. I also didn't think it was fair to tell her not to talk on the phone in the hallway. That should be up to the person if they want to be courteous by not wanting to wake the entire neighborhood up. Plus we had security who would, at times tell people to tone down the noise. She and her mom talked all the time on the phone too, they speak French????? It's a dialect of French. It's really rough, sounds more African than French. They talk first thing in the morning and last thing at night, for about two to three hours a call (probably less, but that's what it felt like). Sometimes, she would take her mom's calls in the room while I was fast asleep around 1/2am and whisper. I guess the whispering was so not to disturb my sleep. At 1 am! At that time you can even hear the person on the other side of the phone. Go to the bathroom or outside. I would even go to the roof top when I was on a call or skype when I roomed with Jom #LaptopThief cos  I didn't want to be that annoying person on the phone, even during the day. Granted, he should've gotten a job and not been at home 24/7 but it is what it is.

Second weekend after Carly moved in, she went to a party with her friends, got home around 2am. Here's what happened: I happened to have just gotten up to use the bathroom, just before she got home. I heard her outside trying to open the door, so I pretended to be dead while sitting on my bed lol. I was just sitting there, frozen with my eyes wide open. I held that pose for a minute, chick wouldn't get in, I could swear it was out door that someone was trying to open. I ended up just sitting there wondering if I was imagining things. A few minutes later, I heard a guy's voice asking, 'Are you ok?' I had to hear this, IS SHE OK? A woman's voice replied, 'no'. I thought to myself, what in heaven's name! The guy opened for her, she walked in reeking of alcohol. I was like well well well, what have we here, in my head. I asked if she was ok. She said she was drunk. She tumbled towards her bed, tripped on her suitcases, she had never fully unpacked, there was still a ginormous suitcase in  the middle of the room that she hadn't unpacked. I don't blame her much, there was no room. Kaboom! She fell! Christ! This chick is 5'10 (180cm), how am I going to carry her to her bed? She started talking crap. It was funny as hell. She is funny sober but hilarious drunk. I couldn't stop laughing, I had to just leave her, sit on the bed and laugh. She would try to get up and fall, you know the drill. I wondered if that's what I was going to have to deal with every weekend. I mean, I didn't know the girl, we had only roomed for a week! That was not part of the deal! I'm ok with her doing whatever she wanted with her life as long as it didn't affect me. The small studio we shared reeked, I had to open the window and turn on the fan for cross ventilation. Fortunately, it was warm.

I tried getting her up, she would keep falling. I told her I was going to bring her a pillow and a blanket, she might as well make herself comfortable on the floor. She was like, I am not a diva but I have high standards, I will not sleep on the floor hahahahha. I tried and tried and eventually, with her help, we got her on the bed. She slipped and fell onto the floor again. Great! She seemed to have miraculously regained her strength. She got herself up, got up, made her bed from scratch. She hardly ever made her bed, for some reason, that night at 2-3am, drunk as can be, she felt the need to make her bed. I was like this is not gonna end well! She did a good job of it, then went to the loo. She fell on the floor. That bathroom was cute but it was small. She didn't even have enough room to stretch her tall, model legs out. She was laughing, I was laughing. It wasn't that funny but funny at the same time. I helped her up. Turned out, she hadn't used the toilet yet, so I had to leave her there and hope for the best. Before I knew it, Bam! Omg, rushed back to the bathroom. I literally felt like I was still working with senior citizens where you had to be on high alert all the time. Only I wasn't getting paid for this. I found her in the bath time, I think she tried to sit down on the tub, maybe the thought that was the toilet seat. She ended up banging the back of her head on the wall, her bum was in the tub and her legs were hanging outside the tub. My main concern was, don't bleed, don't pass out, please. I went in there, asked if she was ok, what's my name, what's her name, you know the usual questions when you test someone's consciousness. She was ok. Thank goodness. I just didn't want to be calling 911 in the middle of the night. I didn't want to accompany her to the hospital, and all that. Why didn't any of this happen while she was still with her friends? I don't even know this girl. This is too much!


We eventually got her back to bed. Full party gear. That was the least of our worries at that point. I was chatting with my sister on whatsapp. While in the midst of that, I heard funny noises coming from the roommate's side. I turned the light on, went over to her side and lo and behold she was throwing up in her sleep. OMG! Don't let this child choke in her own vomit and die, dear Lord! I jumped up, laid her on her side, she had a clip on pony tail on that was long as hell, it was soaking on puke. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the trash can, woke her up and told her she was throwing up, she needed to aim at the bucket. So now, not only was my beloved apartment reeking of alcohol, now add throw up to that!

She finally awoke while throwing up. She was so grossed out. When she was done, she was like, omg, I have to take a shower. EEEEEwwwwww, this has never happened to me before. I thought to myself, and I hope it never does again. At least not on my watch. I asked her to take the back when she had sobered up. She was still all over the place. I was not going to pick her ass up again.I asked her nicely to stay in bed and soak in her own vomit haha. I was nice about it :)
She refused, got her tall self up and headed for the bathroom. She got in the godforsaken bath tub, turned on the water in the shower head and went to town. She did a good job of not falling, took off some of the spoilt blankets and went to sleep. Praise the Lord!

The following day, we had to have a talk. I told her more than anything else, I was concerned about her safety. Plus what were her parents going to think knowing what was happening with their daughter who they had let move all the way to LA to pursue her dreams now she is acting a fool. Plus, I was not her caregiver, she should get it together. She apologised and asked for the videos I had taken of her when she was drunk. You know I took videos!

She threw away the spoilt blankets and the pony tail. Someone else would have washed the blankets but she was like, she couldn't get herself to sleep with it again. Her prerogative. She told me that she hadn't even drank that much but had smoked weed for the first time in her life just before getting off her friend's car. She suspected that that's what had gotten her to the point she was at. I had wondered why her friends dropped her off in that state and how she found our apartment. Apparently, she was fine until she got to the apt door. She got lucky. What if that happened while she was still in the elevator. People didn't even really know her yet, they wouldn't know what to do with her. Or they would. God forbid!