… memoirs of a gaysha.

A few weeks past my 31st birthday, so much has happened and yet everything has stayed the same. Between the late night drinking at my new favourite pizzeria in Melville to my secret rendezvous with a dreamy brand manager in Melrose I find myself being exactly where I wanted to be a year ago … and despite the many, many obstacles the gains made are unbelievable and yet it all feels unfinished like a lover leaving in the morning without saying your goodbyes. And while I haven’t had a real lover for sometime now, the reminder that time marches on has gotten to me again.

It wasn’t more apparent than when, on my birthday weekend, while walking back to my car after coffee and cupcakes at an authentic patisserie when I looked over to the opposite side of the road. Sitting there was the man who had failed to translate from paper perfect person to lover. I had always imagined bumping into him – of course at the time I was in a Range Rover Vogue – but the surprising thing is that I didn’t really feel anything significant. Perhaps it just didn’t seem important anymore to make him see what he might have missed out on but really when he said goodbye he stopped caring that he had.

But either way as I got into my car my thoughts moved on to things more important like DVD rentals and a disturbingly overstuffed draw of take-out menus all with guaranteed delivery. Since I’ve been no nearer to my mountain bike as the Dali Lama is to Tibet the unease which now constricts blood to my waist whilst wearing one of my fabulous new suits is a reminder that Spring is nearly upon us and time to get my arse back into a saddle – be it equine, mountain bike or otherwise.

But as 6-mnths of strategic work starts to pay off, my mind is elsewhere as the slow trickle of rain has started to fall and the new journey towards my own destiny seems to be well on its way. Carefully selecting clients to consult to have paid off and now I have a pretty decent portfolio of luxury brands and companies to keep me busy.

But wouldn’t it have been so much easier with some kind of guide? After all when so many roads to success all come with detours as well you kind of wish that life had a built-in GPS system. Because with so many choices in life, inevitably there are so many mistakes to be made and as we drive along this road called life, occasionally a boy will find himself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess he just has to let go of the ‘coulda, woulda, shoulda,’ buckle up and just keep on going. As we speed along this endless road towards destination called ‘who we hope to be’ I can’t help but whine … are we there yet?

One step at a time is what my friends tell me, but ever the impatient perfectionist that I am, I prefer sprinting to crawling as you tend to get more done in a day. But when you finish most of your work, however profitable it is, by mid afternoon you mind starts to wonder to other things not satisfied by eating, sleeping or showering. In that instance I either reach for the self-help manual or call a friend with no strings, only benefits and the occasional cup of instant coffee. With the Bradley Cooper-esq guy now unhappily dating for fear of being labelled a fag by his family we have slowly drifted away. Being an only child I never learnt to share my toys – and his fun stick falls into that category – so I just stopped giving in when he opened his arms but kept his heart closed. Perhaps that is why I’ve not gone mountain biking for a while … he always made it so much more fun and there was always his smile at the end of the day.

As the Highveld polo season draws to a close, the fast approaching spring and summer beckons on the horizon. I’m not sure what promise they hold for me, but I do know that after so many years of promises ‘… and then I’ll’ this summer will be different for no other reason than because I am. I’m 31-yrs old … now life starts to get interesting.

 

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