Declarations of admiration via SMS

Ladies, this post is for you—if you're looking for a man better head over here, because the amount of attention you'll be getting is out of control.

I need to be more judgmental when giving my phone number out to people; what seems like could be a potential friendship tends to end up rather in text messages saying the following from the guys I have met through friends, at shows, at conferences (any place I would normally befriend people). Names are not being written to protect the authors themselves:

"The night is silent but I can't sleep/maybe because I am waiting for my cell phone to beep/Before I dream what I want is to get yo' message and read/"

"Hey I just keep on thinking about u and don't know why/I think I really need to talk to you on a serious note/am sorry to say this but I think am falling for you/coz I keep on thinking of you/plz tell me something/miss yo smile dear."

"I'm enthralled by your beauty/mesmerized by your charisma and spellbound by your love/No wonder I am always thinking about you."

"Hi there just thought of you/cuz da last time I saw you you were tempting/like an ice cream cone on an October afternoon/"

"A smile is a way of writing my thoughts on yo face/telling you dat u r accepted, liked and appreciated/so here is a big smile 4 u/have a nice 2morrow/"

This weekend was probably one of the greatest ones I've had so far here; Friday night I went to a "bri" (bbq) at a friend's place - definitely the best chicken and t-bone I've ever tasted. Drinking along to '90s dance music, eating far too much, meeting too many people whose names I don't remember...was wonderful.
Saturday night was the highlight—some friends, including my new roommate, went to a bar called Break Point, in an area called Kabwata. Two of us were the only muzungu girls at the bar, something we had yet to experience (but have experienced in Montreal believe it or not on St-Laurent...) and we went for a free show where O.C, the Zambian hip-hop artist I interviewed last week was performing along with a ton of other apparently big artists.

All in all, the two of us girls ended up on the stage even though security wasn't letting anyone else pass, I met all of the artists (with names like Petersen, the Don and MKV), tried Shake Shake for the first time (beer that is like porridge...honestly. But it's really good), got hit on by some crazy drunk girl with half-closed eyes (due to her state) and learned how to shake my "African booty" (as my coworkers call it) as best as I could. I still need to learn how to accomplish that. It is a human right to dance after all..isn't it?

Work is still up in the air in regards to how I am feeling about it. Friday could have been great, I have a long meeting with my boss about projects and things he wants me to work on. The problem is that once I leave him and go back to the office, putting things into gear with my colleagues is where it gets tough. They still don't seem to understand what or why I am there even though we all get along really well. This is where it's going to get tough; today I got there and had nothing to do until 1 p.m. because Mondays are production days; so eventually I spoke to two of the guys there and figured out things a little. They noticed I seemed a bit down so the girls and I went out for a quick afternoon break and talked things over.

They want to take me to a salon this week and see what I can get done this week—a friend here got a weave done (not plaits...just extensions) and it looks great. Maybe I want long hair again? Then another one of the girls invited me to her place this weekend where she said she would make me chikanda, African bologna and absolutely delicious, meet her family and hang out.

I also caved and bought some work clothes at a shop, not used. I found trousers (don't call them pants here) and two shirts for around $70 (I think that's the exchange rate now...the kwacha is so shady here, it changes constantly).