Flying into the New Year

I missed you guys!  MMMMMMMM-HMMMMM!  In case you’re wondering what’s up with all the m’s and one h..........That's a hug!  For you, you and you!   And allllll the other you’s that I didn’t mention.  

Geese taught me how to hug.  In words!  I already knew how to hug in person.  I also know how to smile in symbols.  Be confused in letters!  And show anger with a g and however many r’s as I want.  Evidently?  Long distance relationships broaden your affection horizons!  As well as prove you totally wrong at times. 

One thing I always told myself, "Stacey?  Patience was a virgin."  And then I giggle 'cause I told myself a joke?  And then I give myself a compliment, "You're a good joke teller!"  And then I begin to argue with myself about, "No, I'm not!  Yes, you are..."  I then find myself becoming obstinate with, "You wanna take this outside?"  Which causes me to feel guilty for wanting to kick my own ass for arguing with me?  That's sobering in itself because I’m allergic to violence. 

So I just end up saying what I came to say.  To me.  "Patience is a virtue.  Of which you have none!"  But even then?  I snarl.  Because being in a long distance relationship?  Again...it forces you to have a tolerance for waiting.  I just?  Have.  Not.  Perfected that in the line at Home Affairs yet.  I think one would need to date someone from the moon to cultivate that kind of tolerance.  2005 or not?  I haven’t forgotten that poor guy who resorted to taking people hostage in Home Affairs with a toy gun, as a way of begging them to give him his ID.  That’s, now what you call, frustration. 

Can you see how quickly things can suddenly turn from you going, hopefully, to apply for your ID?  To becoming a toy gun wielding hostage taker?  For me?  Okay, there certainly are better ways to handle certain situations.  But?!?!?!  Could you blame the poor fellow.  It’d been twoooooooooooooooooo years.  A person can have two children in the space of time that they made him wait for his ID!  They wouldn’t give him an answer.  His life was on hold.  He couldn’t further his studies.  He couldn’t get a job.  He couldn’t produce his ID, like, “Can I see your ID, sir?”  “Yes, here it is!”  And then to top it all off?  He gets a five-year prison sentence.  PfffffffffffffT!  Entire life messed up over lack of service delivery!  What was most appalling about that entire situation was that before the day was over?  His ID was flown from Pretoria and handed to him.  Was it really necessary to have to go that far?  For him, it obviously was.  Someone was using it as a coaster for two years and suddenly he threatens to yell, “POW! POW! POW!”  (That’s all one can do with a toy gun.)  And it magically appears.  O_O!!!!        

Speaking of long distance?  We're just three months to New Years, aren't we?!  You know what that means, right?  Summmmmmmer!  Whoooooooo-hooooooo!  New Years’ Resolutions!  Gift shopping over Christmas!  Killing mosquitoes. 

That’s in Durban. 

If we venture pass provincial boundaries, however?  Prance, festively into the city of that province?  Some household appliances are three months away from being flung from the twenty-third floor, onto some poor unsuspecting persons head.  In Hillbrow!  That's just.....sohhh unnecessary.  Really.  Granted, it's just my personal opinion?  You might very well feel differently.  In the name of all that is just and fair, I will state that you have every right to?  But if you do?  Then you must be from Hillbrow.  And seriously, you need to stop doing that.  At the very least?  Someone has a headache all of New Years Day thanks to flying microwaves.  >_<! 

It's taking me my entire adult life to try to figure out what possesses someone to open their window and flinnnnnnng their television set out of it.  Because it’s New Years Eve!   lO_Ok?  (How’s that for a verb that looks like it’s doing what it means!”)  I feel the New Year excitement as much as the next person but not a single bone in my body?  While I’m watching an episode of The First 48?  Prompts me to get up off the couch...turn it off...and hurl it.  Not even on my angriest day would my bones tell me to do that.  What would I watch on the second day of January?  My bones are clearly forward thinking.  Or just plain lazy.  Hillbrow bones, on the other hand?  Are more the spur of the moment type.  That’s the feeling I’m getting...in my...uh...bones.