20 February 2012


Did you know that Whitney Houston and I are born on the same day?

And if we aren't, she's born like the day after me.

OK same month.

We're both Leos.

Shut up.

I felt very close to Whitney and very sad at her passing. I would like to share a moment with you, where Whitney's music helped me through a very difficult time in my life because sometimes, you just need a strong black woman to tell it how it is.


I once had it bad for a German guy at University called Rolf. He wore citrus orange pants and had a patch of hair that grew up over his left shoulder that looked like his neck was being attacked by a vampiric beaver.

Don't ask, it was love that blinded me.

Unfortunately, he didn't have it bad for me which was probably the reason why I pined for him more.

I used to talk about him incessantly to a friend, asking her all the important questions - do you think he's gay or just European? Do you think he knows I like him? Do you think he has a foreskin?

She would nod in all the right places and speculate right along with me.

After the first semester exams, there was an overwhelmingly attended Uni residence party. I thought, *if* anything is going to happen, it will totes happen tonight. So, I put on my best mustard corduroy trousers (I had many pairs), my cherry docs (the most expensive thing I owned), my powder blue DKNY t-shirt with DKNY emblazoned across the chest (the 2nd most expensive thing I owned) and my sunglasses perched on my head like a head-band because I was "growing my hair out" (they also gave the impression I had just "been somewhere").

I thought I looked shit hot. But it was the late 90s and no one looked shit hot.

I sauntered into that party ready to drink and let me tell you the box wine flowed freely.

I was dancing up a storm when I noticed my friend and confidant chatting to Rolf. He took her hand and, as if in some bad teen movie, they walked upstairs. When I spoke to her days later her excuse was that she was "fucked up drunk", but really I knew that to her, my boner for Rolf was irrelevant because he was clearly straight. Nothing was ever going to happen, so to her, it was time to play hide the bratwurst.

I drank the rest of the night away, only resting to cry uncontrollably on indiscriminate shoulders.

The only thing that got me through the days that proceeded was the song Exhale by Whitney Houston from the motion picture Waiting to Exhale.


I had taped it off the radio and played it so many times the tape chewed.

Whitney told me that everyone falls in love sometime, sometimes it's wrong and sometimes it's right, for every win someone must fail, but there comes a point when, when we exhale. Yeah, yeah.

Words to live *and* move on by.

I will always love you Whitney xx


  1. Crack is Whack.

    1. LOLOL mine was the same song off 2 different radio stations one obviously better than the other sitting in the back of the school bus hugging my casio walkman to death wildly bashing my dead AA batteries to life because they simply died rewinding 'exhale' by WH #3 on the rick dees top 40.... grrrr garble shhhshhh +rewind+


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