Short and Sleep

My eyelids feel like seventeen small children are hanging on them, like "Weeeeeeeeee! This is fuNNNN! But?! The resistance? Closssse! Closssse already! Maaaaa? She won't let us close her eyes!! Make her do it!"

Don't be surprised if I fall asleep while I'm typing and all you see is thissssssskayteywedslkdfoiebhmnxdpopoappasoopbvecxecE!

Initially thought I was suffering in sinus? So last night? I went to bed after 1am. No, no. I wasn't staying awake just to show my nose a point. I just couldn't fall sleep for any lengthy period of time and then waking again at 4am? Hjsjsduedakahdsgdfhasdhwkkdf....LOL! Jusssss kidding! I'm still here! Wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. As wide-eyed as tired-eyed, can be! Don't yell! I'm sick. I can see my mistake but I don't have the energy to backspace. Only to keep ty

Crap?!? O_o! My phone just fell outa my hand!

Having your phone wake you as it lands on your chest? Only means one thing! The children's mother's made me!

See you guys tomorrow when I'm not sleep-typing!

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The Circus Ring...Leader

So now?! The current state of education in South Africa is all Verwoerd's fault? Did our president seriously go on a live radio interview and say that? Did he seriously go on a live radio show, to begin with? HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Wowwwww! Every. Single! Time I think my disgust levels have reached their peak? I'm always so pleasantly surprised to find that I have jussssst a little bit more disgust left to feel!

But, yes! Yesssss! It's alllllll his fault that the textbooks haven't been delivered to the Limpopo schools and we've already reached August! Cough! Of a school year that began in January! Choke! The bastard! &^%$#@$%&% How dare he make sure! Uhhhhhhhhhh? Back in (swallow hard)...in 1966?!!!! That in 2012?! These Limpopo kids would be textbook-less by August.

No matter how softly, slowly, back-to-front, I read what I just wrote? It still sounds ridiculously, RIDICULOUS!!! Good Lord?!? It's times like these that I'm forced to ask myself, "What has brought on my sinus?"

And what pray tell, did Dick King cause? I'm frothing at the mouth with curiosity! I know! I know! The state of healthcare, yeahhhhhhhh! That makes anyone froth at the mouth! Or maybe? Just maybe the state of law enforcement! It's that horse! The one he's still riding on the Esplanade. That's why if you call your local police station? If you're not calling them, after you're dead? Then they never have transport! But see? If they had that horse of his...............?

Well now. What choice do I have? I guess it's time for me to come clean. My weight issues?!? Are because my great, great, great, GREAT, grandmother included too little cauliflower in her diet. In 1849! I've been shouldering the blame all of this time in an attempt to be noble and fair but?! I just don't see why I should keep...? I mean? If only she didn't eat so much carbohydrates! If only she'd balanced her diet plan with more vegetables. I would not be saddled with love handles today. And thick thighs! None of the aforementioned (hahahahaha aforementioned! Whoooooo!) flaws having anything to do with my own lack of both, discipline and healthy eating habits! Oh NOOOOOOOH!

It has nothing to do with the fact that I cannot stay away from chocolate. (Some of us like chocolate and some of us like weddings) Even less has it to do with my own lack of exercise! And in forty six years? When I've done nothing to rectify her bad eating habits? It'll still be her fault. I don't even know her name, but that's okay. As long as I just sit here. In my love handles and thick thighs? And do nothing to fight against these parts of me that torment and mock me daily? I'll believe in my total right to be absolved if I just keep saying, "My non-cauliflower eating granny did it!!"

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An Issue of Colour

I'm awake at this hour because I just finish watch a sad movie that caused me to remember and cry and think but...keep watching, anyway? That's me! Stacey Glutton Kell! Plus?! I've been attacked by sinus.

Well? Another weekend comes to a close and when we wake in the morning? We'll be one day closer to the next! As for I? I'm one hair wash closer to galloping. With a head full of thick, healthy, shiny hair, I hope! If not? I'd have joined the horse shampoo club? Just to confuse my hair folicles. Either way, I won't be without a result, so? I'm gonna take my chances! Long as I don't end up bald? I won't complain! Did you hear me, head? I said, long. as. I. don't. end. up. bald!

Do you suffer from chronic ageing regrowth? I mean, grey hair? In my personal quest for one-tone hair? I've been seriously contemplating investing in a black permanent marker! I can't do the emergency mascara cover trick. The ozone layer has become too sensitive. One minute it's hot and you're wearing white? Next minute it's raining buckets and then you have trails of black running down your face. Then people stare and make you all uncomfortable and shit. Too much trauma...

With the permanent marker? I can just lay on my bed. Get Randyl or Damon or Randyl annnnd Damon to colour in my head? Wait a few seconds! Annnnnnnd?!? Bob's my uncle! And I'm not just saying that! Xavier Bob was my uncle! The dye clearrrrrrrly states, "Lasts up to five washes" or something untrue like that! And it talks about being permanent!

Look? I know you're meant to say that something clearly states something if you don't need to follow it up with, "or something"! But, I'm covering all my bases. That's all. I'm not gonna mention names, brand...names? But sommmmme things promise coverage too! You know. Hmmmmmpf! So, I'm not tryna have those "brand names" see this and sue me because I said five washes when it should've been four. "Or something" ensures that I don't get a summons for defamation of character. Of the product. In this case, it would be dye. Defamation of the dye's character. My logic? And if I'm way off here, just stop me. Good luck though. 'Cause you'll only read this once I'm done writing it. Which means, stopping me after I've finished typing it? Would be like finishing allllll the food on your plate and then putting half of it in the microwave for later!

Back to my logic! If I wash my hair every second week, right? According to the sales pitch? I should have no grey for 10 weeks! Right?!? Right?!? Wrong! I dyed my hair two weeks ago? This is what I got!

O_O! That reflection of me in the mirror!

Is there something soooh wrong with making a dye that lingers around the base of each thread of hair? So that when it grows? It dyes it! Jusssssssssst enough to last those however many washes they promised? Because I've had hair all my life? I have enough experience. So I am well aware that hair grows. But growth? Is no excuse for not delivering what was promised!

I can't go around selling a pencil, carrying a big sign saying, "Lasts up to two pages" when I know that the lead is so soft? You have to sharpen it after every three to four words, depending on the length of them! At least?!?!? The very least! They could do, is write somewhere on the box that, "Dear Person. If your hair grows like weed, then...put this box where you found it? Thaaaaaat's it! Just set it right there! Now? You might wanna use the box marked, COLOUR:GREY! Because, if you use BLACK? When you look in the mirror in two weeks, this will be your reflection O_O!"
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Guardian Angels

Okay!  So?  It’s taken alllllllllot outa me, but?!?!  I’ve done it!  I’ve made the first move. 

The bottle of water is filled!  I’ve even gone that extra mile and splashed some lemon juice in it.  You know?  Sigh…I try.  In everything I do?  Nnnnnnnnnn, well, most things.  Okayyyyy, okay.  Geeeeez!  A few things, then.  It’s like you try to take a little bit of extra credit on your own blog and then you get the peanut gallery yelling about, “Remember that time you…remember that thing you…”  Yes, yes, I remember the time and so did Michael Jackson, (Rest in Peace the greatest artist that ever lived)….but it doesn’t mean that it’s compulsory to rain on someone’s parade. 

And now…where was I?

I try to make the experience a…’cause just…just do this one thing for me, quickly.  Take a second to think about the life that water leads, okay?  It doesn’t have choices.  It doesn’t have taste.  All it does is sit in pipes or run.  And get boiled or iced.  And then people like Debbie and I, crunch it.  Chronically, and still have the nerve to blame it for the condition of our teeth.  Put yourself in water’s shoes for a moment.  Imagine getting boiled on a daily basis, for a living?  What about frozen ‘til you crack?  And then crushed!  What kind of a life is that?  

So?  Here.  Today.  I have taken the time to make this h2o drinking attempt, pleasant for both of us.  I just think that the life of water has just got to be as colourless as…as…it.  And the only reason I am feeling sympathetic towards my liquid buddy is because I can identify.  My life gets colourless at times too and it’s in those moments, where I really wish someone would take the time to splash a lil lemon on me. 

BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!     

You know what I’m laughing at?  Not myself.  This electricity bill says, “Please ensure dogs are locked away when our meter reader calls at your premises.”  We should strike back at this brazen bully tactic!  When you go to Martin West Building to pay your light bill?  Yes, I said Martin West Building ‘cause this would not work at Pick ‘n Pay.  They don’t care what you do with your dog when the city’s meter readers come to your premises!  So you’re at the…wait…better still, go straight to Metro Electricity!  Take a black marker, and write below that…”No!”  Followed by this face...":-\...since I have no way of knowing the fake from the authentic, meter readers, my dog shall decide!"  I would pay money to know when the next meter reader would appear at your gate!  

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Sigh.  Again.  I said again, because I already sighed in the second paragraph and now I’m sighing…again. 

I was on my way to Martin West Building once.  In 1989.  Damn, that sounds like a long time ago!  I was young and wild and fureee!  Not wild.  But I wish I was because they wouldn’t have robbed me.  I was young.  I was only sixteen.  Stories were going around about the new and improved ways that you get robbed.  In my mind, I always said, “Pfffffft!  How can you fall for something like that?”  Well? 

I fell for it.  I fell for standing at the robot…traffic signal for my overseas readers…I was young.  My overseas readers are in a different time zone so if they didn’t catch the first “I was young” I made sure to type it again.

The man wearing black?  Poked me on my back.  With his finger…with his finger, no need to get alarmed and O_O and all….when I turned around, I only caught a glimpse of him.  Not of his face.  Just his black clothing but I remember that he was short.  And the very, very well placed, concerned, stranger, next to me started telling me these horror stories about how he just put “something on me” and it happened to her somebody and this happened to her somebody because of it? 

I believe that he did.  I believe that he touched me with “just believe every single word they are telling you, you young, stupid, stuuuuupid fool” fairy dust!

So, they took me to the Methodist Church.  I was very young.  Amazingly, I wasn’t afraid of them.  At all.  I’m being serious.  I had no fear that these people would harm me.  I did what they said.  I gave them everything I had.  They put it in an envelope and gave me the envelope back.  My dad’s electricity bill money, my mum’s bank card…thank goodness she had not a black cent in it, her ATM pin number, whatever money I had, my jewellery.  Evvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvverything! 

I was in such a “these are actually my friends whom I’ve never seen before in my life and won’t understand them if they spoke in their home language…and they are trying to help me” trance?  That I had no taxi fare, even to get home.  Didn’t care!  Luckily, my then boyfriend…who funny enough?  I was fighting with and refused for him to come into the city with me?  Found me in the stationery store, at The Workshop!

Nothing wrong with me.  I was waiting to open my envelope with my stuff inside it.  And when I did?  It had that very same day’s newspaper in it.  It’s still a mystery to me that they even knew that I didn’t like to read the newspaper so they were kind enough to tear it into pieces…and put it in the envelope.  Before they gave it to me.  In exchange for every valuable thing I had on me that day.  

I believe in Guardian Angels from that experience.  I can’t explain any other way that my then boyfriend would come into the city anyway, find me (taxi-fare-less) in a stationery store four streets up from where I was meant to be paying my dad’s electricity bill.

A Cooler Head Prevails

What did the boot say to the sneaker? IIIIIIII dunno? I'm asking YOU!  Not because I'm the Rambler, it means that I automatically know the types of conversations that go on between footwear. Hey, if I did?  My feet would be swollen with inside information, lemme tell you!  I'd be blackmailing pumps, left, right....annnnnnd centre! If I had...three legs.

I'm sorry I'm late but it was a busy, busy day for me!  First?  My phone alarm ignored me! Heh-heh-heh!  I'm not lying.  Scouts honor!  I wasn't a girl scout...or a boy scout but I did help my friends who were?  Sell eggs one day, so? 

That's the first thing you say, huh?!  She's fibbing!  But not this time. I'm being as truthful as lie can get!  I know it happens to you too!  It ignored me?  So I woke late.  On purpose!  I showed it!  That's what you call?  Tough love!  So, tomorrow, I'm gonna pretend like I'm asleep just to see if it learnt its lesson! Hmmmm-mmmm! And if it ignores me again?  I'll have no choice but to charge my Nokia and use IT'S alarm!  I find that taking away privileges, works best.  A method I haven't been able to master with my kids, so I decided to practice a little more on my phones.  I know they didn't lay on my bladder for nine months, but they're still mine and I figured that if I got it right with them?  They could become a good influence on my kids.

Talking about phones?  I go to report my other phone stolen today?  It took me three days to get the ITC number because I clean forgot to tattoo my IMEI number on my right inner thigh for when the day came for me blacklist it! 

Do you know why you RICA your sim card?  Unless you're a murderer, rapist or planning a heist?  Then you're doing it FOR NO APPARENT REASON!  Love Jones told me about this yesterday and today I saw it first-hand!  I said to the police lady, "So? Are they going to trace my phone?"  At first she tried to pretend as if she didn't hear me. She stared blankly.  So I stared blankly, and then asked again.  I was trying to act tough but she got me to repeat myself!  She was tougher.  She had the gun.  And she was trained to use it. See now?  If sheee lost her phone, they'd trace it, 'cause she has a weapon! 

Anyway?  She said, "I don't know. I'm just taking down the report and statement."  So the "investigating officer" is behind the other counter?  And hears our conversation.  He told me exactly what Love said!  "I hurt!"  Wait! No, not that love! The person Love!  The person, Love, said that the cops told her friend that it's too expensive for them to trace it, but ye ol' eves dropping officer added, "You have to get an order from the court!" 

I got cocky (temporarily forgetting about the two guns now that could become somewhat of a problem if people got mad), and said, "So? Why am I reporting it, then? And why do we have to RICA our sim cards, then? (Notice, I ended both my questions with THEN, to give them the frustrated effect - in vain).  That's a means to trace the phone, isn't it?"  She said, "I-I don't know, as I said, I'm just taki..."  He proceeded to ask me, "Aren't you claiming from insurance?" And then went on to tell me about a guy who can trace phones but charges a lot to do it? 

My temper flared!  I LOST it, I telya!  I said, "Okay."  I bet they could tell just how mad I was!  You think they could tell JUST how mad I was?  Would you have been able to tell just how MAD I was?  Look?  I was in a place that had prison cells!  And faces of the government people on the wall. So I had to lose it...calmly! The situation called for rational flaring of the temper and constraint in voice tempo!  I believe I handled it preTTy well, wouldn't you say?

Future Planning!

It's been ten years since July 2002!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!  Let’s just ignore the fact that a week before ten years ago, we got robbed at gunpoint at work while I hid and prayed under my desk and then the rest of my colleagues called my brother off of his just boarded plane to Port Elizabeth because they thought the robbers abducted me?  Let’s rather concentrate on the fact that ten years ago, this month, was my very first trip to the USA!  I was in absolute heaven!  Ever since I could watch TV?  It’d had been my dream to visit the States!  Woah!  My sister's ten years older than I am too!  You see that?  D’you see the connection there?  Nnnnnnnnn...thought as much ‘cause I’m struggling to see it myself.  Just figured?  Ten years ten years.  You know? 

She's still ten years older than I am, by the way.  Some things just never change!  Not like our national anthem!  Mannnnn, I just...just learnt Die Stem!  Bwaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!  No, I didn't!  I’d be lying in Afrikaans if I told you I did!

The amount of Afrikaans I learnt in school was morrrrre than enough and I wasn’t trying to overcrowd the no speaka da English section of my brain so I just pretended as if the American anthem was universal!  Ay!  At least I know parts of an anthem!  But I'm sure someone did...just learn it...and when they promptly changed it to a different song and language altogether?  Those victims of wasted anthem knowledge stood up on the stands, hand on the heart, ready to sing, heard, “Nkooooooooosi...Sikel...”...looked around, and started stuttering like, “Sh-ShiT!!  W-w-where am I?”   

But not me-ee!  I was not on the stands and neither was I part and parcel of that, reading two lines, closing my eyes, throwing my head back so I don’t peep and reciting it, reading the next two lines, reciting all four, crew.  Even as I sit here, close to a tenth short of a half a century years old?  Ek weet nie die nuwe een as well!  (That’s Afrikaans... referring to the Zulu one...except for the English part)  You can tell that as soon as I didn’t need to pass an exam, I emptied the Afrikaans section of my brain, can’t you?  I needed that space for the future.  To remember the new city street names.  Do you know the new street names?  Do you think the person who changed the street names, remembers the new street names? 

I accidentally emptied more than I intended to, though.  I wanted to keep my Algebraic and Trigonometric knowledge because I was so sure that one day, it’d come in handy.  I thought!  I thought it would come in handy.  I was good at it too!  Since nobody I’ve ever come into contact with, asked me what x was if y was ten over nineteen and two thirds?  I’m leaning towards the theory that all it was?  Was a way to scare the crap outa us, thinking that life after school was going to be solving problemmmmmm after problem after problem.  I mean, it is.  But, solving x’s problems fall straight to the very bottom of the priority list when you have a boatload of your own! 

Alphabet’s need to study us so that they can see what we went through in school because of them.  And then?  It would be mutually beneficial.  If they study us, and we study them, then we can help each other out with our problems.  I really fail to see why only human’s must get into trouble with their parent’s because they can’t make sense of alphabets’ problems.  Small x should also get into trouble with capital X for not understanding how humans work.  That’s just the way I feel. 

Now that I’m done ranting?  Uh-uhhh!  I still don't know my beloved country’s anthem!  ‘Cause I’m too busy crying...over my beloved country!  Whaaaat?!  You’re judging.  Don’t judge.  Let he who knew alllllll of our country’s anthems!  Throw the first stone!  Huh?  Huh?  Thaaaaat’s it.  Retreat into the darkness of judgemental land!  I feel not a shred of shame.  Not even a thread of a shred of shame!  Not even like that one string on the side of a banana, of shame!  And why?  Because, I have a plan!  Little do you know?  I'm saving the anthem piece of my brain for when we have a Coloured government!  Loyalty is a virtue!  Whether common or not.  Plus I know allllllll the words to “I love to truck” so I’m quite well-prepared, thank you very much!         

Is that a Trick Question?

You know what I asked myself today?  Aside from whose thumbs are using my purpleberry?  “Where do you see yourself in five years, Stacey?”  Since I wasn't at a job interview, forced to hide my contempt for that very question?  Since there was no grin-bare-and-have-to-answer policy that had to be adhered to either?  I did what any normal, right-minded person would do!  Ignored it!

Have you ever tried to shut your ears off to the voice inside your head?  When that voice is as loud as when three members of your family are just, sitting and “chatting”!  (There’s a 70/30 chance that the police could be called at that point).  I’m not sure if your family is as loud as mine?  Actually, I’m not sure if any family is as loud as mine?  But if you’re fortunate enough to be a part of one of those?  You will know that ignoring sounds of that altitude and level is close to impossible.        

But?  I wanted an answer to that question, and since I was point blank refusing to give myself one, I had to get firm and insist, "Must you be so willfully ignorant?"  My sarcastic bone was instantly awoken!  O_O!  "Must YOU?"  I gave myself a quick thumbs-up for that clever retort which only spurred me on to go all-out to win the argument.  "It's a simple question!  Is there seriously a need for attitude?"  And with a roll of my eyes.  To the left.  As I typed this?  I just tried to roll my eyes to the right, and…?  Is it me or does everything instinctively roll their eyes to the left.  Something felt odd just now when I tried it the opposite way.  A-hem!  Sorry, I fell off the wagon there for a minute.  Annnnd now?  Thanks!  Thanks for the help getting back on it…I sincerely wish you were there when I flew off the trampoline.  I coulda used some help then too!  Anyway.  Painful memories aside, I responded, "Why don't YOU answer the question then, if YOU wanna be all future-fied!" 

Shhhhhhhhh, don’t tell me!  But I thought I'd use trickery to get myself to open up.  HA!  You just have to know how to manipulate yourself!  Which is easy because nobody knows you as well as you know yourself!

Turns out that trickery works very well on me.  We had a nice, quiet, chat about the fact that you can tell yourself, 'til you're blue in the face, “I see myself as an astronaut in five years!”  It doesn't mean that it's going to happen.  Yesterday, I saw myself still owning my phone today and look how that turned out!   >_<  I'm still trying to figure out whether I was being sarcastic, again, with my astronaut answer but what matters is this?  I was no longer being stubborn and refusing to participate in the conversation. 

And at the end of it all, we both agreed on a common, possible, attainable goal!  It wasn’t being the richest woman on the planet.  It wasn’t being an author of ten best sellers.  Neither was it being married and living in that white picket-fenced-two-story home.  The list goes on.  Brace yourself!  It wasn’t being the CEO of an advertising company.  ‘Specially when you don’t know a thing about advertising!  Except for the lies you’re paying to watch on TV.  Let’s be real for a minute?  Whose stove gets that dirty?  Like, do the advert pots on advert stoves just…melt away with the heat and then they have to end up cooking directly on the stove?  Utube it!  If you think I’m exaggerating!  I agree, Handy Andy is a good product.  But there is no need to resort to such extremes.  As a cooking individual?  I will tell you now that I would believe you just the same if you wiped up little splashes of curry gravy!

Did I honestly say, astronaut?  I don’t even like astronauty things?  Sarcasm, I telya!  You just blurt out the first thing that comes to your fingertips!  You know when you lay on your bed and cover yourself from head to toe?  And you just lay there.  You can still hear that buzzing sound of the mosquito that won’t stop harassing you?  But you won’t uncover yourself because the minute you do, it’s gonna head straight for your outer earlobe?  Seeing as you’d much rather sweat and deprive yourself of oxygen than walk around the next day with one red, lumpy earlobe?  You keep laying there.  Choosing suffocation over a mosquito bite.  That’s how having those helmets on for long periods of time must feel. 

That’s why I decided against becoming an astronaut and chose administrative work instead.  Yep!  It was as conscious a decision as the time I left the shopping trolley behind my car and then promptly reversed into it.  And by conscious, I mean…I was awake.  Nothing more.  Nothing less. 

"In five years?  I’m going to be happy!"      

The Aftermath

As I lay here, I'm still seething! I'm too angry to even swallow! But I thought? "My phone just got taken! Do I realllllly wanna deal with a mouth full of angry spit on topa that? Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! Lemme rathhhher! Go and use my frustrations to bring joy to others!"

So, here I am! Delivering joy. To everyone. EXCEPT the person who stole my phone! He/she deserves NO part of the joy intended for my non-thieving readers! Some people just don't care about the Ten Commandments anymore! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Moses said to tell you, "It's a pleasure not to ever meet you!" There, if you have the nerve to read this, because the link is a bookmark on my ex-phone! I've made mine and Moses' intentions clear. He doesn't wanna ever meet you and I don't ever want to bring you any joy! And I can see it too! After you showed your low down dirty hand today, I wouldn't put that past you! You could very well go and follow my blog. Jusssssss to see how mad I am! So that you can be all snickerish! While you're snickering? Allll heh-heh-heh! If your teeth start to fall out? It's not because of gingivitis! Neither is it because you still have your milk teeth! It's because I wished it!

And just so you guys know? Aside from pictures and video's that I will never get back? My original books, Broken and The Switch annnnnnd my blogs were allll on that memory card! So if you see some strange random...hmmmmmmmmmm? If you see some mindless rambli...shiT! How do I put this?

Okay! If you see posts, right? That make wayyyyy too much sense from the very offset? It's the toothless thief, not me! When I blog? I try my utmost to make the least possible sense on the first read! At the end of it, I believe it all comes together? And I might be over estimating myself a bit? But still. If that first paragraph doesn't grab you by the throat like, "Ohhhhhh good lawwwwd? What is she on about nowww?" Wasn't me. Was Shaggy! And that other guy that sang that song with him. Small built, black-headed guy!

Has anyone seen Shaggy, by the way? Lately? I saw him in concert many moons ago. Back when the concert organisers still remembered that Durban WAS one of the major cities in South Africa. Not to mention that we still like music but can't see it live anymore! Unless we sell an offspring and maybe three pairs of shoes with a coat to match, to cover the air travel and hotel accommodation costs!

This is why we have so many bored people in Durban! Stealing phones 'n shit! If people had live concerts to go to? The statistics on these sorts of criminal activity would drop! People would be singing and dancing and trying to get into the golden circle with a regular ticket! That cannnn happen, by the way! I saw Eric Benet's toes that way. A-hem! Yes!

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Grrrrrrrrrr….!

Well?  My phone just got stolen out of the pocket of my bag in the Nike Store!  I shall not type out exactly what I’m thinking because this computer might explode.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHH!

Grrrrrrrrrrrr!  That didn’t help.

%#%@^^@$%@%@%#&%#&^%$#&^%$^%$^%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Still…don't feel better.

Sigh… I’ll be back.  

Gravity Bruises!

It's official! I have no life! I spent Friday night, in the company of Big Corn bites and a Snicker, watching Disney channel, WITHOUT being forced to! Sigh....I guess it was a consolation that I knew allllll their lines. And expressions. :-/ Annnd outfits. I think it's only fitting that I learn their real names! I owe them at least that. Aside from boring the...the...? What colour am I? No really? You may think I'm just rambling, but? What colour AM I? UuuUrgh. Not knowing just ruined my sentence! And I don't really care about colour! It's nothing but a skin tone. I don't care if I was neon purple, but if I KNEW I was neon purple then I coulda at least said, "Aside from boring the neon purple offa me...." Y-you know?
Did you enjoy roller coasters as a child? Uhhhh, not me. Not as a child, not as an adult! Not even as a beautiful butterfly in my next life! I'm as adventurous as a dry sugar bean. I prefer my heart on the right hand side of my chest, thank you very much! Kinnnnda hard to swallow when it's lodged in your throat!
I remember my dad would take us for a drive every Sunday. Sometimes to the fun fare. One time? I wore a red jersey. Yeahhhhhh. Red. A red...jersey. Why is that the only thing I remember from that day? I'm sure I had fun. At the fare! Not like I fell off the top of the big wheel or nothing and I needed to block out that day! Maybe? Maybe if I did, I woulda remembered more but I don't. They say that the baddddd experiences cement themselves in your brain.
Like the first and last time I got on a trampoline!
Again?! I wore red! WTH??? And I WAS having fun! WTF?!? Have I just uncovered the reason why I don't wear much red orrrrr have much fun anymore?
We'd all gone away to the Drakensburg Mountains for a weekend. The trampoline was a jungle gym away from the tennis court so once we were done there. We moved over to the trampoline. I had my camera so I was like, "Everyone have a turn! I'll take pics!" You know how cool the pictures look when you're in the air and stuff instead of standing on the floor and stiff? They're jumping yayyyyyyyyy and I'm clicking, clicccccck!
'Til it was myyy turn.... :-(
I started a new paragraph now because for a few minutes? My thumbs just settled on the q and delete buttons on my keypad. Composing themselves. They too, remember the pain. Our pain. The initial joy of soaring through the air and acting cute for my jumping pics? Stopped there. Right at initial! So, I'm in the air. The big galloot that I am. Feeling as free as the butterfly I'm coming back to earth as. I was practicing because failing as a human? I wanna be the best damn butterfly I can be!
Kent! O-G! Decides that he should make use of the trampoline while I'm not using it. Since I was in the air! As if I was just gonna hang around and hover 'til I was ready to come back down? Did he not see that I was on the decent? Laws of gravity and shit?!? I wasn't a butterfly YeT! The boy jumps on the trampoline while I'm on my way down.
One second............................the feeling of the not knowing where I would land? Has overwhelmed me. Even though I know where I landed. It still has that mystery effect on me. I wasn't ready to die. Or break something. I'd arrived in one piece and I had visions all weekend of leaving that way! That was all that I kept saying to myself after I barely touched the black surface and was once again soaring through the air. The tree appeared to have side stepped as I contemplated grabbing onto one of its branches if I could. I had no idea that even wood could be selfish! Lemme tell you? Don't mistake its outstretched branches as a sign of offering support!
Well? There was concrete around the trampoline. Why they don't put some kind of spongey thing around trampolines for when your nephew suddenly bounces you back off of it? I do not know! But I landed on the cement asking myself am I dead yet and if I am? How can I still be in pain in heaven.
The side of my thigh was bruised along with the outside of my foot and ankle and as I'm typing this? I'm reflecting on the fact that? I have pictures of this. Whoever had the camera, still stood and took a picture of me on the cement in pain, confused about my very existence annnnnnnd moaning in my mind (the pain temporarily stumped my ability to speak) about "Jesus, hold me!" instead of running to my rescue!
Today I have two things that I MUST do. Find out what colour I am and who exactly it was that took that picture of me!
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And the Award Goes To……?

Gone are the days!  When you did the time for doing the crime!  Nowadays?  All you need to do is have a stern talk with your kidneys?  And VIOLA!  Early release from fifteen years in prison!  The agreement though has to be that they pretend to be failing jusssssssst in enough time to get you out of the mess you put yourself in!

But, wait?!  I hear shuffling.  Sensing that clarity is vital here.  This does not apply if you’re just the man on the stree-eet!  Sing it!  Believe me!  Even your kidneys will wave the back of their hand to you like, “Pfffffft!  Person, please!”  They won’t even respect you enough to call you, owner or something endearing.  Just to prove that?  Six of them were meant to be released because they were too ill to remain in prison?  Three of those six have since died.  See?  No loyalty of the organs!

Now?  To avoid getting your feelings hurt by your own body parts?  Before you go lecturing your organs in vain?  First, look around.  You can make a checklist if you like.  Well more like a compare list!  Once you’ve successfully compared the man on the street to the big shot powers that be and duly noted that you were on the losing team?  Last but not least?  Double check the depth of your pockets.  If they’re empty, then unfortunately, you’re officially part of the street gang that cannot simply consult your inner self to assist you in overturning justice! 

I’ll give you a minute to inhale that.  Meditate for a second if you must.  Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!  Breath deeeeeeeeeply as you take step after small step to join the rest of us on the barren side of option land!  You know things are bad when you can’t even turn to yourself for help. 

But?!?!  Other’s can.  As they are found out and caught and arrested in a dramatic episode of Days of our Crimes!  The barreners?  That’s us by the way.  Cheer in victory.  For 13.333333 infinity percent of their sentence.  That’s what corruption-convicted former police commissioner Jackie Selebi will have served as he walks out of prison today.  Two out of fifteen years.  That’s just wrong.  I don't care if he looks like Morgan Freeman.  I mean?  Even in school your teacher would yell at you for getting two out of fifteen! 

I saw Debbie’s facebook status earlier so I thought?  Hmmmmmmm?  Lemme go see what is going on so I can tell the six people in Germany and Russia that have been reading my blog, what her and half the nation is so angry about.  I will attach the link?  Go and jump on my own head nine times?  And then?  Go ask my boss if I can go home early to get some “palliative care”.  Wish me luck!

O_0

Sbu Ndebele is Minister of Correctional Services now?!!!!  He was?  Just. Minister of Trans…sigh…you know what?  Never-

Nevermind. 

http://mg.co.za/article/2012-07-20-22-jackie-selebi-to-be-released-from-prison-today 

Toxic Reasoning

Nothing thrills me more than knowing I have something sweet and unhealthy to nibble on when I get to work.  Which is why?  Nnnnnot very thrilled right now.  :-/  All I have is high-fibre cereal and cupa-soup!  I’m on the verge of licking that glue on envelopes and pink post-it notes!  But you know what that tells me?  I need two new front tyres!  Yup!  It’s a thrilling day alllll round!  I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason.  Nothing is co-incidence and nothing happens by chance!  Which only means that I don’t have sweets today because I needed to realize that my tyres need replacing.  'Cause you look at your empty desk and think, "What ELSE could go wrong?"  And that causes you to think about what else is going wrong.  You start visualising things and your car pops up in your mind like, "Look, I need new tyres okay?!?!"  O_o!!  And I have now realized that!  Hence my firm belief in reasons!  Don’t fight the way that you’re made aware of things!  

It matters not the source, but the substance.  >_< 

I have no idea if that even makes any sense but it sounded profound!  So ima leave it just like that!  If it’s understood by even one single searching soul out there?  I’m okay with that!  Realizations can come in many different shapes and sizes.  Like wine gums.  The black ones are rectangular and the orange….ones...are….&^%# I am so wishing for wine gums right now!  You think at the time that everything that’s happening to you is just senseless and horrible and unbearable.  That’s how I felt this morning when I walked in and saw my desk empty of store purchased goodies! 

But you think that at the time.  You know it’s a reflex.  No goodies?  Unbearably sad.  Like this L No goodies?  Senselessly horrible things keep happening to me!  And then when you’re all laid out and sick on your office floor, curled up in the fetal position from the envelope licking?  You go through, while you’re moaning.  You go through all the should haves and shouldn’t haves in your mind.  You can’t hold a pen ‘cause your stomach is too sore and then you fail at mouthing the words to your desk, whose your only friend at the time, since your tongue insists on sticking to your palate.  Glue will do that.  So you have to make mental notes.  Nothing wrong with your mental.  It’s just mad at you, that’s all. 

So mentally, you begin talking to yourself, “When that happens again?  Rather eat a spoon of sugar.  You know?”  You’re saying “you know”, like it’s not coming out of your own mind but shame, you’re delirious from pain.  And then when you look back on that a few days later?  Because realizations don’t take one day, normally.  They get deeper by the day.  So as the days pass, you then see the entire lesson in it.  Sugar!  Rather than office stationery.  And patience.  If you had just waited ‘til lunch time, you wouldn’t have been ailing from intoxicating your body with glue.

Even if you kick your toe on the corner of the wall.  That ouch ouch ouch delay that it causes?  You’re being delayed for a reason.  In my case it would be because maybe a cockroach needs to pass, and then with the delay of holding my toe and cursing at the wall about “Just damn appear out of nowhere!”  I would miss it.  And my knees won’t get all weak and I won’t feel like fainting.  My paining toe would have preventing me from feeling weak and possibly fainting.  I may have been alone at home and nobody woulda been there to help me if I fainted.  So?  Uhmmm-M!  Reason for happening!  Nuf said!

I’m somewhat perturbed that people have gone to the moon, yet?  We still need to replace the tyres on our vehicles.  Not a one person has come up with anti-smoothing car tyres orrrrr!  Or!?!  Thicker rubber and deeper…grooves so that their life spans are doubled!  A rocket that can zoom into space!!!  They can spy on the stars with satellites and all but they can’t anti-smooth rubber!  Tsk!  Tsk!  Tsk!  That’s as troubling, to me, as is the fact that they haven’t yet found a way to just make sweet things suddenly appear in people’s offices when they’re holding the sticky parts of envelopes two inches away from their tongues! 

Where are the Einstein’s of this world?  Clearly none of them have a sweet tooth, or know what comfort eating is all about.  Someone?!!!  Sommmmmmeone!!!!!!!!!  Do you think someone heard me?  Someone!!!?!  Please go depress an Einstein so that they can find a way to make the comfort eating experience less of a “go out to the store and buy your comforting sugary stash” and more of “wowwww (smile), how’d THAT get there! (smile more and unwrap)” one!  There are times when the only way one sees the urgency of certain things?  Is when someone makes them see it through their own eyes.

Bash or the Books?

Happy 94^th birthday, Mr. Mandela!  Ninety whole four!  Wow!  Best wishes and unless someone’s kept it a huge secret?  Thank you for not forcing us to pay for a party we woulda never afforded to give our ownselves!  Unlike some other people I know!  I’m not mentioning names, but…xyZ! 

That!?  Wasn’t a hint!  Nohhhh!  I was testing myself.  Just to keep…you know?  Keep the brain working.  They say that if you recite the last three letters of the alphabet daily?  It helps your memory.  Don’t?!  Don’t quote me.  To anyone.  Don’t be at the dinner table with your new inlaws and yell, “Guess what I learnt today?  That random rambling chick said that if you recite the….!”  It won’t end well.  Just…take what you’ve learnt today?  Here on my blog.  And know it.  That’s all you need to do, is know it.  Going forward?  Just recite your last three letters of the alphabet silently, and in the privacy of your own person.  If you’re caught and questioned about what you’re doing?  Rock.  You can hug your pen if you’re in the office.  Rock back and forth and hug your pen and whisper, “I miss…writing.”  Then sniff and point to the computer.  You won’t have company for very long.  You might also not be in the company for much longer either!  You know what?  Maybe it would just be best to exercise your brain in your car, alone.    

Woke up today to rain on take the bin down to the street day, and part three of my headache!  This one must be have always aspired to be a Jean Claude van Damme sequel…uuuurgh!  Now because that didn’t happen, it’s taking it’s frustrations out on me.  Pfffffffft!  As if I said fail acting class!  Okay, okayyyyy!  We all know that you don’t actually have to pass acting class to be a Jean Claude van Damme sequel but I was just…just trying not to be unkind…Jean Claude van Damme has feelings too!  But then you all start shouting and pressuring me about…”Come-onnnnnnn!  You know that’s a big fat lie!”  Excu-uuuuse me for trying to be nice on Mandela Day!    

Thank goodness it’s not my birthday!  When I turn the age I’m turning in three months time?  I really don’t want my day starting off painful, wet and dirty!  I have a vision of how it’s going to begin…. 

Sunshine shall greet me as it peeps and squeezes through the blades of my bedroom blinds.  Its only purpose?  To gently nudge me out of slumber.  It shall stretch out its rays all the way from the far reaching sky until it tickles the surface of my skin causing my sleepy eyes to flutter at the feel of its soft kiss upon my cheek.  My mouth shall curl up into an indulgent grin…a fitting response to its gestured whisper of, ”Happy birthday, my #1 fan.  I came just for you!”  Plus?!?!  It’s a Thursday!  So bin day will have passed!  10^th!  Bin day!  Perfect!  All I have to work on now is making sure I don’t have a headache!

Far as how it’s going to end?  Did you have a big bash for your 40^th?  Would you have another one if you could turn forty again?  Being a Thursday and then a work day?  Nnnnnnnnnn, I don’t know whether I want a big celebration or not.  Not because I’m afraid to turn forty or anything?  Not because I’m looking for an excuse not to celebrate it.  Part of me feels that it’s something to be celebrated.  Just that, Damon has a test on the 12^th of October.      

Limited Goodness...O_O!

Sooooooh?  What have you decided to do for sixty seven minutes on International Mandela Day tomorrow?  In case you haven’t heard yet, you’re supposed to do something nice and kind and good for someone else.  Mr. Mandela will turn 94 years old tomorrow and his gift will be world peace.  For sixty seven minutes of one day.  Wow!

What happens before and after your chosen sixty seven minutes?  Hey!  I’m shrugging my shoulders because for me?  It makes no sense.  Look?  I really like the concept and I don’t mean to be pessimistic about the gesture of goodwill.  But I don’t like the limitation.  It means that it’s okay to wake up tomorrow.  Go buck wild!  Your alarm then sounds, telling you, “WAIT!  It’s time for the sixty seven minutes of goodness!”  Be good.  Good.  Good.  Good.  And when the clock strikes sixty seven minutes later?  Things revert back to…As.  You.  Were!  Reminds me of that game, K  I  N  G spells kinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng!  STOP!  

What if you’re helping your neighbour mow his lawn?  Not that neighbour silly!  The other one.  No-no!  I didn’t suck that outa my thumb.  It was one of the suggestions they made on the website I just came across.  “How to do your bit for Mandela Day…” 

What are you going to do if you’re not finished yet and the sixty eighth minute suddenly shows up?  

“Ohhhkie-dokes, Mr. Brown!  That was all that the time allowed for!!  See ya!”  And promptly march off with a third of the yard still looking like the amazon jungle?  Leaving poor Mr. Brown speechless and angrily chewing his gums thinking, “Why didn’t Mandela fight longer for peace and freedom?  At least another thirteen years!  Thirteen more minutes was all he would have needed to finish the yard!  DRAT!!!”  

Ay, purse those lips all you want but you know that some people are technical like that?  And still defensive about it, “Haai!  Haai!  Haai!  They said sixty seven minutes!  If we were meant to be nice for longer, they would have said that!  Sixty seven minutes for sixty seven years.  Equal is equal.  I’m finished being good now.  I did my bit!” 

Why not just say, “Do a good deed for somebody on Mandela Day!”  No time limit.  Thus, leaving Mr. Brown allllll warm and fuzzy, instead!  What did poor ol’ Mr. Brown ever do to deserve that time limit and a half-cleaned yard?  He’s always been a good neighbour.  I think.  Mr. Brown?  If you’re reading this right now and tomorrow you’re offered a free mowing of your lawn.  As if you were refusing a bag of snuff?  Just say no.  Your gums would thank you for it.  There see...I've started with my good deeds already and it's not even Wednesday yet.  

I say, forget about the minute factor and just go for it tomorrow.  Just spread the love and kindness all day.  You don’t even have to be specific.  You don't have to make list.  No, I’m gonna wash an old lady’s clothes today.  Or I'm gonna hand a stranger a chocolate today.  Or I'm gonna cut Mr. Black’s grass because I offered to cut Mr. Browns' but he threw a brick at me and mumbled something about snuff….just.  Be nice.  Be random.  And be responsible.     

Did You Miss Me?

^_^!  I did!  I missed us allllll.  The past weeks have been two of my worst and no, I’m not outa the woods just yet!  Just when you think that sense of calm you felt meant that the storm was passing?  Uh-uh!  All it is, is bringing truth to the saying…”The calm before the storm!”  At one point I just felt like a zombie...roaming the earth.  And filing.  Aaaaargh!  Do you love filing as much as I do?  I don't.  I'd swop the paper age for the ice age any day!  Annnnnnnd?  The trees just swayed enchantingly in support of my last comment!  I am now in the midst of a daydream.  White, fluffy ice surrounds me.  Frost bite doesn’t exist!  Brain freeze?  Mmmmmaybe!  At any given moment, I am able to just scoop up and enjoy the sweet taste of heavens icy raindrops melting against the flat of my tongue…crunching impatiently here and there because I can’t wait for the next mouthful.   

You hear that?!?  No?!  That loud screeching sound?  You didn't hear it?!?  Concentrate!  You know when you're driving and suddenly an indian myna bird flies into your car with a piece of samoosa in its mouth and with the shock of that, you accelerate instead of brake and then your senses return only when you're two metres from the car in front of you and you brake and skid and brake and skid and your face starts distorting as if you can already feel the pain of your forehead being punched by the driver of the car you're about to hit?  I'm gonna be honest right now!  It's happened to me...nevvvver!  But it’s something that I'm sure will cause the screeching sound that I'm trying to describe to you right now!  Yep!  My ice daydream just came to that screeching halt! 

And why?  Because school has begun again today!  Uuuuuuuurgh!  That means that breezing through the evenings without having to worry about tests, and homework and uniforms are a thing of the past…three weeks.  And see?  Damon just called me to say, “Ma?  Can you please print me pictures of things that can fly?”  Day one.  Should I include a picture of my shoe?  It flies at the sight of a cockroach? 

Can’t get this song out of my head……..“Wherrrrre is the misssssssing one?!?”  That's a song by Stevie Wonder.  It says, “I'm tryna find my whereabouts, what shall I do?  When nothing seems to follow through.  In me, trying to find my whereabouts, I'm turning blue.  But wait I may have found a clue.  My whereabouts are somewhere lost in yesterday with you”...nice song. 

We're always searching for something or the other, aren't we?  From that one sock that didn't come outa the wash.  To that one perfect solution to a problem.  To that one person you always believed is out there waiting to be the mate to your soul.  Just….searching.  Endlessly.  Uhm.  I remember how endlessly I searched for my silver dress!  :-/  I still haven’t been able to locate it yet!  Maybe it’s out looking for the sock I lost and one day they shall both make their safe return…along with my sense of self.  ‘Cause I’ve since lost that too.  Lemme tell you though…I’ll be mad as hell, if my sock prances in wearing my dress without my permission.