Yippppeeeee for Yappy!!!!

So, Paige's birthday's coming up...in November, and she's getting this Yorkie puppy, right!?  As a non-pet-ty kinda mum, I've been trying my utmost to support the fact that soon I will have another little body running around my home.  All I wanna do is name it?!?!  Is that so much to ask?  That in itself is something to write home about!  But she's being seriously uncompromising! Someone reallllllly should have a word with her about that. 

Plus I've come up with some good ones too, like, New Yorkie, Manhattan.  I heart NY.  No!  No, no, that wasn’t one of the names I came up with.  What kinda fool-ass name would that be?  Yappy!  Squeaky!  Even Lil Y!  Hehehe---kinda proud of that one.  That one came to me when she sent me this passage off the internet that described the little pipsqueak as a gangsta-wanna be.  Lil Y, gangsta wanna-be, YO!  Good one, huh? 

:-/  Maybe, she got offended when I told her she's just like a Yorkie.  Was that going too far?  Small, yappy, squeaky and feisty.  I didn't mean it in a bad way but the truth is, when I read that this minute hairball had a thing for challenging big dogs, I immediately saw Paige’s face looking up at me, wagging her Yorkie tail.  Hey!  If you can't tell ya daughter the truth, then who can you be truthful with?!?  Then again…could be a long-time grudge for me not wanting her to get a tiger when she was but a wee yorkie. 

IIIIIIIII dunno...kids of today, you never can tell.  Meanwhile, she's still not budging.  In short, she told me, “Get your own puppy and name it things like Lil Y!”  In those exact words.  That wasn’t enough to stop the progression of my quest.  It just motivated me to plunge further into my dog naming tank.  I came up blank, HA!  But then again?!?!  I was tired last night.  Been writing notes for Damo again.  Exam time, whoooooo-hoooooo!  Not whooooooo-hoooooo!  Booooooo-hooooooo!

That whole Jan van Riebeck, Khoi-Khoi rubbish drains a person.  Who the ?+@# cares about the goings-on of the 17th and 18th century anyway!  Before I reached that mind-numbing part.  By numbing, I mean boring to the core!  My core.  And my core is not to be trusted when it’s bored.  I start thinking about dog names and we can all see how that’s turning out.

Thing is this.  I was okay with them learning about the different diseases like Malaria and Cholera and Population Movement and all of that, 'cause when I wake up one day.  Before my alarm!  Yelling frantically...”IMMMMMMMMMIGRATE! IMMMMMMMMIGRATE?!?”  Many have done it, I’m sure.  The boy needs to know to grab his bonny bags and run right alongside me!  You know? 

But then all of a sudden?!?  Jan van @#!*en Riebeck and Dutch ships that don't even exist anymore?!?!  I mean, is there a Chapter somewhere in History covering the day that my beetle broke down when I was twenty?!?  No!  They were wrecked already centuries ago!  They admitted as much in the highlighted notes!  Crabs have built underwater holiday apartments with those wreckage remains by now!  Actually?  That’s how the entire mess started!    

A wrecked ship!  Mmmm-hm!  The ship was wrecked and then the sailors settled there and took the Khoi Khoi’s stuff, who got pissed off and began stealing their stuff back, IMAGINE THAT!!!!!! 

Then they were all, “What is wrong with you Khoi-Khoi’s! Leave your stuff alone!”  Started building walls and parading all armed to keep them out, then the ‘Company’ released some of their servants and gave them farms.  How very kind of them. 

The Khoi-Khoi were like, “Hell to the na-aaaaah!  Don’t be thinking we’re helping y’all grow things on our things!”  (think they meant land).

Which led to a labour shortage.  That’s when the ‘Company’ was like, “Hey?!?  These damn lazy-ass Khoi-Khoi will not co-operate!”  I wonder why….don’t you?  “Whatever shall we do?!?!  Ahhhhh-ha!  Let’s go to Jakarta and Madagascar and buy some of their people and use them as slaves, here!  As if we even have the right!  Oh well!  Never stopped us before…he-he-he ask the Khoi-Khoi!” 

At this point, a Khoi-Khoi shoulda been eavesdropping, broke the door down, and just for that he-he-he, greeted him with a flying kick.  But that’s just me.  I don’t make History, however hard I wish that I could change it.  ‘Specially this part of it.  And so they did.  And THAT’S how the drama unfolded!  I always knew nothing good could come out of a wrecked ship!    

History means old.  But how old is old?  Is there no cut off time for oldness?  Like an expiry date of oldness?  A stamp that reads, “Best taught before (insert date)”  Just sayyyying…if I’m 41 years old and I learnt all of that at Damon’s age?  Come onn!   

Now that you know why I was tired last night.  Back to the yorkie saga.  I did manage to negotiate for at least one of these to be his second name.  She said she'd think about it.  I demanded an answer by today, failing which I’d have to text her fresh possibilities all day.  She then coolly vowed to leave her phone at home!  O_O!  We were on our way to work, and Wendy was playing Keith Sweat in her car.  Ohhhhhhhh!!!!  The memories! 

A-hem…! 

So, I thought about the puppy some more.  Confused am I!?!?!  As to all of the thought time this puppy is taking up.  Feel like I’ve fallen in love with it or something!  Hold on a sec……shake nod shake nod – don’t look – shake nod shake nod…just…I’m tryna empty my head of that thought.  This would be the first time I’ve fallen in love with a dog…well?!?  If you wanna be technical.  Eh!

The Coloured slang term for a person who keeps challenging others, is a ‘bumper’, is it not?  Coloured’s?!?!  Help me out here.  So, I text her the name, Bumper.  She says, huh?  Clearly, she thought I was kidding about the deadline for the second-name decision.  I say, Bumper Yappy Kell.

She said, no.

I give up. 

To make matters worse, she told me that Lindsie and I ruined it for ourselves with the names we’re coming up with.  Lindsie’s been insisting that she’s gonna call him LD, short for Lord Disick.  So then, I retorted.  Hehehehe!  Yes I did!  I retorted!  How ya like me now?  “Well ima call him Yappy B! “  Short for Yappy Bumper!  This was her response;

Paige: Lmao he won’t know his name!  I will keep you both away (insert some kinda skew-faced emoticon) and that I can do.

Me:  You live in my house!  I will steal him when you sleeping and brainwash him to only respond to Yappy B!

Paige:  Lmao!

I thought, LMAO, meant that she gave in at that point, what with me pulling rank and threatening to brainwash her birthday present?!  I guess, it’s simply a matter of…

You know what thought did….?

Favourite Moments

I musta had one of those mornings, that in a few years, I can look back, smile and remember it, with a giggle! Giggle...^_^! See? It's already happening. Psychicness. Always knew I had it in me!

As adults, alota the time, we forget that the word fun still exists, don't we? There's just so much to do in what feels like a reduced amount of hours a day. Does that happen only when you grow up? I don't hear a single kid say, "Mannnnn!!! Where have the hours gone?!"

Oooooooooo-whoooooo! This is some good chicken breyani! m-m-M!!! Excuse me, (blush), I'm eating while typing on this Blackberry and my taste buds, sly little tongue things, waited for a weak moment and just took over like, "Move aside and let us talk for once!! Geeeeez! Yap yap yap...!" Further proof that the end is nigh. Sadly. I have about two fork fulls left. And nowwww?

None!

It was well worth the wait! At the babyshower yesterday, I chose to pile on the pounds with the sweet stuff and passed on the meal, and now I got to taste what I shouldn't have passed up on yesterday. Regret is inevitable. So it's no secret why my tastebuds are behaving like a buncha raving lunatics right now. It's okay though, I've got the situation under control. Just now, I might punish them with neat tumeric powder for that outburst. Haven't decided yet.

I always think about this. How many people look back at moments in their lives and yell with excitement, "Heyyyyy Tom! Dick or Harry! (Whichever you prefer). Do you remember that one time we were having that serious discussion...you remember! Come on! Think! Dammit! We were frowning and everything!?" >_<!

I'll bet...nnnnnnnot 'smuch as, "Hey hey hey!?!! Do you remember that one time you almost sprayed soda through your nose from laughing so hard...."

I'll tell you about the moments I hate most in life! It's when you're telling a joke and laughing your hardest because, well...it's funny and then unknowingly you struck a nerve and the other nerve stricken person is like, "What did you say?" And you find yourself uncomfortably trying to suck up your laugh and start choking and coughing and shit because all of a sudden you find out that, yo, they don't like riddles. Who knew?!? I was supposed to, apparently, but I didn't. I was witness to a moment like that a few years back. Not so pretty. Worse still, when it's between an adult and an unsuspecting child, it's that much uglier.

For me, and call me crazy, stupid or whatever floats ya boat this Sunday. I've heard them all, so feel free. Water off a ducks back by now. Why?! Because I'm free! Let's all be free. Freedom is what we strive for in life. I found mine. Now you find yours. Shackles are for prisoners. The guilty ones. Sometimes you're not guilty but you're a prisoner. That's not good. It's bad. Bad people deserve to be shackled. Good people deserve not to have their clothing thrown out by people who haven't bought them. Even if they have a hole or they're torn.

>_<! Shit!

Uhhhhh...Let's take a teeeeeeeeny tiny break. Ima have some tea and maybe two rivotrols. Hehehehe! Just kidding. Not about the tea. I don't kid about tea. All kids should make their parents' tea. Okay...this is getting outa hand. I'll be back. Calmer. And you know what? It's not about me whining about clothing. I have plenty and you look around, the stores have an abundance. But they were mine. So at this stage?!? I'runnnnnnno who's running wild on US soil with mine favourite velvet trackpants. No hole, not torn. That's the bummer right there. Favourite!

A word to the wise? Trust no-one with your favourite velvet trackpants. Thas all I'm saying. Trust. No-one. With your favourite velvet trackpants. Got it?!? Read it again just so it sticks 'cause its important.

And now, A-HEM...I shall fix myself that cupa tea! Trust. No-one. With ya damn favou...okay, okay...okay...I'm goinnnnnnnnnnng.
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I Think...

Sitting with my son on this couch, youuuu know the one. Yeah, yeah! That one! All I'm thinking about is what future? If any! Does he have in this place. This place, not meaning the couch, come now...think bigger! No, not Durban, biggggggger! Thaaaaaaaaat's it....that's it! This place, South Africa.

We've, A-hem...we've just had our own president make a speech. Sweet. Jesus! They do that sometimes. As presidents. I just wish that someone would duck tape this one's mouth when he gives even the slightest indication that he plans on opening it. Shewwwww!!!!! O_o! This is the situation.

He opened it.
Again!

In my Donald Trump voice? Minister of Prevention! You're firrrrrrrrred!!!!!!!!!!!

There are times that I question whether I'm in a circus or whether the president gods are just playing a cruel and unusual trick on us. On one hand we have his former mini-me telling us Coloureds that if his party is voted in the next elections? We can fish without worrying about needing a permit. I'm sure many celebrated that day! Yeah! Hmmm-M! I'm sure many vomited uncontrollably too. Following that, he tells the Whites that they shouldn't be afraid of Blacks IF they're willing to share! Following that! He tells the Blacks that they shouldn't be afraid to fight the White people!

WHATTTTT!?!? I got stuck. There! Which is why I can't for the life of me remember what he said the Indian people could look forward to if he was to become president.

He then says...do not pay for the e-toll in Johannesburg, when they ask for your money? Show them your red beret. SoH cool, huh?!? I wonder if that'll work for any of the other bills we have to pay.

"Sir, that'll be R500!"
"No."
"Ha?"
"No!"
"Sir. You can't pass here without paying!"
"But?!? But Malema said! Look! Look! I have a red beret!"
"Nice. I have a shirt to match that. R500 please?!?"
"But he #*?/@+ said it in a speech! If you say something in a speech! Then it's law! He said I don't have to pay you! I can just show you my cap, sorry beret, and you'll let me through?!?"
"Did you also embroid STUPID on your beret?"
"Ha?"
"Pay or stay! How! It's lunch time now! You making me late for lunch time! Just think! Like another kind of person and pay up!"
"No!"
"Eish...this one?!? This is a stubborn one!" While he calls the cops to arrest your red-beret-flashing ass!

Our president. On the other hand, says that people should not think like Africans, just pay the e-toll. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahhahahhaha!!! Let's all take a moment to remember that should you be kidnapped, he is not the negotiator that you want pleading your release! Not even if you're a mouse trapped between a cat and a hard place! Classic! Foolishness.

"But mr. president? I am African."
"You're African, yes. But don't think you are when you have to pass the e-toll."
"How can I do that when I am an African?"
"Easy. Just don't think. Just pay."
"I don't earn enough to afford the e-toll."
"Then don't think like a broke African too. Just pay, there are e-tolls all over the world. We must also have one. Why shouldn't we also have one?!"
"Because your people can't afford one?"
"So? That's not my fault. Just pay. Just pay, that's all."
"Even if I won't have money for petrol to even pass the e-toll by the middle of the month?"
"Yes, even then. You think too much. That's why you don't have a lot of money. Always thinking! Think, less. And just do. That's what I do. See? I'm president of a country that you shouldn't think you're from."
"Is this the #*@!?-! twighlight zone?"
"Ha?"

So now? People that aren't African.....you lucky non-Africans you....If your president states, in a speech, that you should not think like the person you are! Not think as though you are from the country in which you were born and bred and still live JUST like the non-immigrant that you so unfortunately are, you know? The one that he runsssssss? Who exactly should us Africans think like?

........................Silence

I'll wait..............

I hear nary a speech.

Uhhhhhhhh-huh! Yeah. Just as a I thought! Look for answers and you get nothing but the sound of the ceiling fan! Look for bullshit statements in presidential speeches? Never. Ending!

How about we do this? Instead of thinking like, ohhhh I dunno....an Antarctican? How about we think like someone who has a brain, and realize that butter, milk and sugar in a plastic bag isn't enough to secure a vote! How about! Next election? We take a walk on the wild side and vote for someone who will never EVER for a minute believe that telling your people to discard something he should be convincing them to be proud of, hint freakin' hint, our nationality! And just pay the damn money, that......wait for it?!? They do not have to begin with!

So then? By the time one passes the e-toll point, they're not only broke, but they don't even know who they are anymore! Tsk tsk tsk...what a mighty president serves us!

N
O
T

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ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What this track means to me?  Eh!  Wouldn't you like to know.  If i were you?  I'd also like to know.  So Ima tell you.  Oh?  And I missed you too.  Once again, I've been writing non-stop.  I wish I had four hands.  MANNNNN, I could rule the world!!!!!!!  O_o

Forgive me, but this song puts me on such a high, I literally reach for Venus!

But enough about me.

What I hear when I listen to this song?  I coulda sworn I just said enough about me.  Let's forget I said that for a moment, because I'm being you right now, and you want to know what this track means to me, so I'm gonna be me for a second and tell you.

Once you find your "voice"?  There's not a damn thing that can stop you!

Katy Perry's, Roar, is about the most uplifting, motivating track I've heard all year!  Feel as though it was made just for me!  Rambler? Vanity...tsk tsk tsk!

So??????????????  There ya go.  I'm once again running off now to conquer the unconquerable and rule the unruly!  Hehehehe!  Ramble Responsibly my friends!  ^_^!!!!!!

PS:  Enjoy!

Antibarfotic

Place in middle of palm, close hand for safe keeping, open hand, eye it, sighhhhh, close hand again, sit down, set it on counter, eye it again, sip on glass of water, check bbm's, psyche yourself up, pick up gracefully between thumb and index finger, inspect it, sighhhhhh, sip on glass of water, mentally curse makers of terrorist tablets, stand up, reply to bbm's, sip on glass of water, open mouth, try to put in mouth, fail, sighhhhhh, set it back on counter, eye it once more, will it to disappear...somehow, it doesn't, pick up between thumb and index finger for hopefully the last time, set it at back of tongue, drink water fast, skew face as if you just drank rats urine!

That?!? My ever-faithful readers, are the imaginary instructions that Paige reads on the box of medication she's getting ready to take. Tonight? Lucky for us, we were in the kitchen when first, she took a picture of all her meds. Then sat and went through most of the above steps but this time?!? And pay attention since this is the reason why I say we were lucky. As witnesses, we learnt a valuable lesson on how not to...thank you sugar! 'Cause she did something verrrrrrrrrrrrry different this time! A brand spanking new technique that she picked up from, ay, O_o! I dunno where!?!?

Lemme tell ya! Where normally she'd carefully set it on the furthest point at the back of her tongue while her pinky sticks out like the queen and her tea cup?!? This time? The girl flung that sucker so far down her oesophagus, that while she then took a swig at the glass of water, she was like heaving...uuuuuuuuaargh...uuuuuuuuuaargh...!

Ofcourse? I did what any caring, nurturing parent would do while their daughter sits there gagging on an antibiotic. I burst out laughing! Damon followed suit. That's my boy! Soon as things returned to a somewhat normal state in her throat?!? It was a quick recovery, by the way! After the uuuuuuuuaargh...uuuuuuuuuuuuargh part, she too couldn't help but laugh and then she says, "Which mother laughs at their child when they're about to throw up."

...........................................Me.

In all fairness, I did offer to break it in half for her. I wasn't laughing when I did that. It was a sincere gesture of motherly love. Her argument was, "Then I'll have to take it twice!" I couldn't deny the logic in that, plus I had things I needed to do. Imagine going through those steps twice?!?! Annnnnnnnd, I even went one step further and got a little creative in my efforts to assist. I told her to imagine it as a sweet that she likes and just pop it in there. "I don't really like sweets..." >_<!

I tried again. Desperation and reality'd begun kicking in, so against my better judgement, I offered another option....Okay then, a cigarette! "It doesn't go in my mouth."

O_o

....I gave up on the imagining of things at that point and decided to just let the cards fall where they may.

Then came time for the herbal drops. This part, surprisingly, went a lot smoother. However, she did ask, "Who came up with herbal medication????" I told her, the herbalists. I put absolutely no thought into that answer, whatsoever. My brain was still too busy laughing its ass off about the whole, open, fling..._uuuuuuuaaaargh...uuuuuuuuuargh fiasco.
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Loving Nightmares?

I could use some help. Please. Google is just so...so impersonal. Can they introduce a Google voice or something? Whaaaaaaat???? O_o

I'm not lonely! O_O! Who-who said I was lonely?! The life of a semi-hermit is farrrrr from lonely, lemme tell you-uuuu! There's a bed to sit on. A tv to watch. A passage to walk up and down in. A laptop to type on. Walls to make you feel enclosed. Or protected. Let's go with protected. Enclosed sounds like I need therapy. Tea to drink. Music to sing to. I could go on.

I have a confession to make. Real people...kinda scare me. For real. Real people that I've never met before, scare me. Come to think of it, it's not the real people that scare me. It's having to meet them, in any form, for the first time that scares me. It's like that very first kiss. I get all anxious and sweaty-palmed and what if...what it...what if?!? Funny enough, I never stress about tripping and falling. Hmmmmmmmm?

Especially one on one. I prefer meeting new people with company. With someone I'm comfortable with. Nuuuu-uhhh! Not because I don't like people, I really do like people. Mainly the ones who can make me laugh 'til I cry. But 'cause it takes the focus off of me completely. Not compleeeeeetely, completely but like the focus is not on me completely. O_o! Not completely onnnnn me.

Aaaargh, shy people out there?!? You at least have my back on this topic, don't you? Crazy fact: Once I've gotten through it though, it's never eVer as bad as I thought it would be, so the anxiety that it causes is never worth it. That's what you call stressing in vain. And somehow knowing THAT, from most of my, real people that I've never met before, experiences? It doesn't make a sliver of a difference. I think maybe I was meant to be a Dear Rambler sorta communicator. Maybe? I'll never know. Unless?!? Unless a plague of laryngitis befalls us all. I was just telling Paige the other night, I've always wanted a voice like Demi Moore. That too will never happen. Unless I'm on the road to recovery from laryngitis or just on the road to it. (Shrug). Lary, I've given it a pet name. It's the least I can do since Lary sure seems to be able to make all of my dreams come true. Ha!

That's just one out of a hundred reasons why you will never hear me tell you on here that I just been out on a date. Granted, I've been married before. I've been in a long distance relationship in recent years too, as you all know and as hard as those are? I got comfortable with it and I guess because we'd spent so much time talking on the phone and on email, I'd gotten over that initial first time meeting fear. But that's over now. And yes, I'm more than alright with my single status. However, aside from the fact that it's the one thing that least interests me? Just the thought of going on a date with someone that I don't know like that, causes a reaction that I really can't explain. Just? Creeps me out. Date-a-phobia, if you will. I know, I knowwwww. I know that you have to actually GO on the date to get to that place where you know the person like that but...neooooooooooooooooh! Nope. No.

Either way, I've rambled on long enough. You're waiting for the reason that I've brought you all here today, aren't you? Yes? Okay. I've been having a few nightmares of late and it's caused me to, firstly, thank the good Lord that I woke in my bed, and secondly? Wonder just what the hell it all means. You know like when you dream of snakes, none of them had snakes in them, I'm just giving you an example. When you dream of snakes, then the dream decoder peeps say that, that means you have an enemy out in the real world.

So?!? If someone's constantly tryna hurt me or kill me in my dreams? Does that mean either;

a) I have a snake?
b) I'm gonna get a snake?
c) Want a pet snake?
d) Any-anything to do with a snake?

It can't mean that someone's actually tryna hurt or kill me because dreams don't mean what they say. They don't say. Sigh...dreams don't mean whatever you're dreaming about. So I'm not worried about that. It normally means the opposite. So I'm thinking that it means maybe somebody is constantly tryna;

a) Love me?
b) Like me?
c) Likes loving me?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! This dream stuff is so confusing.
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Heed The Whisper

If I was me a few months ago?  I wouldn't be who I am today. 

How's that for a pre-birthday speech?   

And now!  Too bad I’m not planning a huge shindig.  I coulda used that as my opening line while I stand up on stage in front of family and friends, with my face red and hot, embarrassed to a standstill, giving my birthday speech.  Hmmmmm?  On second thought.  Thank God, I’m not planning a huge shindig! 

Nevertheless………Welcommmmmmme!!! 

Welcome!  To my birthday month.  ^_^!  Have yaself a seat, hmmm-mmmM! 

This year?  Mainly due to the fact that when I think about it, my heart starts sprinting like a steroid-pumped, over-fit, 100m Olympic runner?  I've made it a point to forget age and focus on energy!  Somehow, some way?  I have more of it now than I know what to do with!  Did that happen to you around this time of your life?  Maybe I should join the gym…..No?!?!  Good answer. 

Meanwhile, back in the streets of New York City?  My dance teacher’s running willllllllllllllllllld somewhere on Broadway!  So ofcourse, we haven’t danced in ages.  Laaaawd, please don’t come back with New York style push-ups.  My energy cannot be spent that way!  Nobody’s energy should be spent that way!  If I became Exercise Ruler of the World?  Lmao!  Doubtful on every level, but if I did?  The only thing related to a push-up anything, would be a bra.  Useful, comfortable and painless.  That’s the kinda life we all should be after, right?! 

Why do I feel this energetic, I repeat, but not for push-ups!?  Well…might be that I no longer have to stress about every little thing.  Might be that I've stopped having to check myself twenty-four-seven!  Might be that I’ve ceased being weighed down by the past!  Might be that I'm not working my ass off anymore for people’s approval. 

Orrrr?!? 

It just might be that this season puts a Spring in your step!  Simple as that!

Who knows?  Just like with anything, there are many-a-might-be.  Shoulda, woulda, coulda, and all of those Brian McKnight tracks.  But, come to think of it?  I actually do know.  Aside from everything else where it feels as though I can finally just be me...Me feels more worthy and appreciated than I ever did!  (curtsy) And that feeling right there?  It motivates me to do even more! 

Not sure about you, but I can’t thrive in a stressful environment where all you feel that is happening, is test after test, judgement after judgement, constantly fixing this and fixing that even when you didn’t know that you were breaking something.  No.  Harmony’s not only a female’s name.  It’s a need too.  I am a lot more comfortable amongst my own kind.  And I don’t mean, South African Coloureds.  I mean allllllllllll colour people that I can connect with on at least some level. 

Lessons sure can be learnt the hard way at times, but what matters is that they are learnt.  Admittedly, over recent years, I’ve spent a lot of time, doing my best to be someone I’m not.  Guess what?  Scoot on over here and I’ll tell you a secret.  The only place that train heads to is, Failure Farm.  So, ofcourse.  I failed.  See?  Unless you’re being hunted down by angry mobsters who believe that you have they black briefcase?  Then okay…by all means, be someone you’re not.  That’s the only time it’ll probably work to any kind of advantage.  But when you’re doing it, just to fit in? 

Fail. 

Fail. 

Annnnnnnnnnd? 

Fail. 

I have some advice for you.  When your instincts speak up?  Listen!  Mine have resorted to cursing me in eleven official languages.  And they’ve finalllllllly gotten my attention.  Don’t wait for that, though.  Go with ya gut!  Relent to the prodding!  Give in to ya cravings!  Uhhhhhhhh?  Strike that last one.  Chocolate has no bearing whatsoever on this particular topic.  But at least you know what's on my mind at six in the morning.  Or six in the evening.  Or six minutes passed every six hours of the day! 

Oprah, at her South African show yearrrrrrs ago, called it, life's whispers.  Which always made sense to me but then at some point I erroneously regarded them as insignificant.  They're not.  They're your silent guides to what feels right and what doesn't.  To what is and what’s not.  And when something no longer feels right, it simply means that you need to start walking in the opposite direction. 

You know like when you’re in the path of a pitbull, and its tongue’s hanging out.  It’s staring at you, while dripping pitbull saliva all over the floor?  You seriously wouldn’t be listening to your life’s whispers if for one minute, you believe that it was admiring your Adidas sweatsuit.  No.  If there’s a tree?  Climb it!  If there’s a wall?  Scale it!  Do anything but please…do not walk lovingly towards the salivating savage as if you’re two long-lost Bollywood lovers in a field of grass and daisies!  That’ll get ya ass bitten.  Badly too!