Raped of Its Dignity

Raped of It’s Dignity

I can only speculate.  But was South Africa dropped on its head at birth or what?  And I know what you’re saying to yourself.  You bring up a good point there, Rambler!  Why, thank you.  Your points are not so bad themselves.     

Look?  Some-something is seriously wrong.  I read yesterday that soon we won’t be able to spank our kids with the flat of our hands.  Naturally?  When my eyes have the misfortune of seeing crap like that?  I read no further, mumble profanities under my breath, or aloud, depending on who’s in the room.  Priests appear outa nowhere at times.  And then turn straight to the horoscope page.  FYI.  I won’t live happily ever after today…rats!  But I remain optimistic.    

Personally?  I’m not much of a spanker.  But on the rare occasion that I might feel the need?  I said, rare.  I know for a fact that I will feel a hundred times worse having to two-feet my child as a means of disciplining him/her.  The lawmakers, I am convinced come up with this load of drivvle during intoxication.  We’ve all been there.  You’re wasted.  Suddenly stripping and doing laps around the neighbourhood seems like a sound form of exercise.  There’s a huge difference, though, between party favourites and laws that govern the country. 

Let’sssssssss just say, right.  The disciplining occurred at the end of the passage?  What happens if he/she lands in such a way where he/she hits his/her head on the corner of the wall after I’ve disciplinicly (-_-) swiped the floor from underneath him/her?  He/she are still my kids, afterall.  Love hurts at times.  Ask me.  How serious would my disciplining session appear when thereafter, I have to help them up, check for blood, cry, sit up with them all night (they say that you shouldn’t allow your child to sleep for a while after they’ve hit their head), cry, hold an ice pack to the lump?  If you’re me, within all of the disappointment at the way this has gone, yet another dilemma arises. 

Fending off the temptation while you’re salivating at the knowledge that ice is at hand.  Alllllllllll that drama, when all I could have done was flat-handedly smack them on the arm or the thigh, any place except for the face, that’s not protected by the clothes I bought.  It totally defeats the purpose if I have a hand in protecting them against the pain I am trying to inflict on them, doesn’t it?  All it could have been, is smack and send.  I stopped at send because I don’t know where you prefer to send your kids after you’ve smacked them.  Plus I didn’t wanna appear egotistical and make this about me, me, me.

Already, corporal punishment has been banned in schools.  I dunno about you but the burning sensation lingering on the tip of our fingers from being whipped by a bamboo cane?  Even when we were nowhere near whomever had verbal diarrhoea during the lesson?  It kept us in line!  It kept us respectful and it helped us to master the art of crying within.  You didn’t wanna be known as the cry baby in school.  OMG!  Not the reputation you wanted following you around all your life.  And?!?!  We were still expected to write while our fingers throbbed and beated like Tom’s head when Jerry dropped an entire wall unit on it.  The main thing is that we wrote.  We wrote out of fear but we wrote, regardless.   

I’ve jumped the gun.  My apologies.  Lemme take a few steps back and tell you what was plastered across the front page of the Times?  The big union boss is being accused of alleged rape.  I said alleged.  I’m being as judicially correct as my fingers will allow.  He says he’s innocent and that he didn’t “hear” her saying no.….CHOKE….my mind was like, SCUREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!   Did he maybe hear his wife say, “Dear, you’re welcome to sleep with your colleagues during office hours.  I know how stressful the middle of the day can be for you.”  O_o.  Meanwhile?!?  Back at the....meanwhile?  Back in the two thousand and something....he was in sizzling hot water for spending funds on romantic rendevous with the now wife, then mistress!  Greed.  SMH.  He does admit to locking her office door, but just so that they weren’t walked in on.  Meaning, by his wife, I think.  I can't be sure.  But now the alleged victim is being charged for extortion, blackmail and for having a vagina.  I said, alleged.  I didn't mean it, though.        

First the now president was tried for rape.  But he’s innocent.  GASSSSSSSSSSP!  Shocker.  The guilty victim had HIV but he had a shower.  Least he's clean.  This may come as a surprise, but unlike in the US or other countries?  Not Zimbabwe.  When we vote?  We vote for the party.  Not the person.  The person?  If he's the leader of the "winning" party, we’re unfortunately just forced to accept him as president.  Which means that unlike the way that it’s done in other countries?  Not Zimbabwe.  Where the presidential candidate loses votes, a chance at winning or the ability to even compete in the stupid elections, because he has a record for a car he might have stolen back when he was being initiated for entry into a gang?  It was him or the car.  With a choice like that?  I woulda been bending that metal coat hanger my damn self. 

Here, however?  It’s alright.  You can have been the leader of that gang, rape, kill, steal, in the past or the present, a satanic priest, annnnnnnnnnything.  You still have every chance and apparant right, to run the country.  We're non-judgemental like that.  Just flash your card and you're forgiven.  It’s almost like….like we're being punished for having a heart beat.  It’s at this point and the only time that you’re seriously sincere in begging the heavens (You’ve given up on your parents’ explanation of how they were so very much in love and how they believed that having you would complete their lives.) for an answer to, “What the hell were you thinking when you made me?”  I'm guessing all of Zimbabwe are asking either heaven or hell this very question as we speak.     

One has a million wives.  The other has one wife.  That we know of.  The point I’m trying to make is that none of the accused, or the proven-innocent, have a valid reason, other than because I can, to even find themselves in this kinda predicament, ‘specially when it’s not their wives accusing them of this animalistic crime.  Hey, it happens.  Both ways.  But greed is a nasty, nasty habit, isn’t it?  You want your husband, well not wannnt-want.  Prefer rather, to come home with his tail between his legs, pitiful as he says, “My love, I was charged for driving without my seatbealt today.”  Not.  “My love, I was charged for rape today.” 

But wait…don't go just yet....THERE’S MORE…..!!!!!!!!! 

Sommmmmmmewhere in the midst of all of this lunacy?  We have ol' faithful, Malema being allowed to form his own political party.  Jesus Christ of Nazareth!  O_O!  Talking about how the state should just take all of the land in South Africa and have people then apply to use it. Holy Mary, Mother of God!  >_<!!!!!  Gimme a second while I vomit. 

I feel it necessary to now put on record that should I develop Bulimia?  I will name Mr. Malema as the number one exclusive cause of my condition.  &%^$ all that emotional stress, fear of fat, sob sob, sniff sniff, when I look in the mirror I'm obese, shit.  My medical sheet will be very precise. 

Diagnosis: Bulimia

Symptoms:  Nausea and vomiting

Cause: Julius Malema

Treatment:  Unknown until a cure is found for idiosyncrasy

Pray with me, good people of South Africa.  May the good Lord, help us all!  Us who are stuck in this hellhole without the option or opportunity to buy property on Mars, or Mauritius. 

HONK HONK

As thought provokeless as a Wilson Block might appear?  Never judge a sweet by it’s ability to confiscate a filling from your tooth.  I’m sitting here, chewing up a storm and IIIIII dunno.  I think it might have something to do with how I feel about the dentist?  Don’t mean, I wanna chew the dentist.  But as I’m skewing my mouth and trying to feel with my tongue if I have any suspicious holes in my teeth?  Road rage came to mind.  It left for a bit but it returned.  Might be the alluring smell of whatever they make Wilson Blocks with.  So, lemme ask you….? 

What are your thoughts on road rage?  Do you think it’s;

a.  something that is provoked or

b.  just a thing of.....you’re just an angry somebody.  Period.  or 

c.   the driving school instructor taught you how, or

d.  like randyl said this morning, “and you wonder where I get it from :-\”

Ofcourse, being the Rambler?  I always have an opinion.  Not one that I share with many, in person.  Which is why I have a blog.  Now?  I hear the sounds.  So while some of you might be off scurrying to open a blog of your own to exercise the freedom of opinion that you, yourself have held captive for decades?  I will address those who, unlike me?  Make rather good use of their mouths.  Disclaimer: I’m in no way being crude or suggestive.  I am referring to speech. 

Not drama.  -_-

You know, I’m rather soft at heart and merry by soul.  Just…hey look?!?!  Just believe me.  Looks are deceiving.  That’s something they teach us the minute we exit the canal and the doctor smacks our ass and makes us cry and then while we’re being rocked into silence, wondering why our daddy’s aren’t choke-slamming ol’ Doctor Fast Palm on the floor of the delivery room, we get no answers.  Only enduring gazes.  Then we have to enduringly gaze back while confusing tears trickle down the sides of our new eyes.  Those looks deceived us.  Deceived us into thinking that when we’re smacked on our asses, we should gaze adoringly.  Annnnnnnnnnd?  There you have it.  A freak is born.  They don’t just…they don’t just happeNN.  :-\   

But for the most part, I’m not scowlish looking.  That again, is my opinion.  HoweVer.  If you’re one of the taxi drivers that almost ran me off the road this morning?  Those looks weren’t meant to be deceiving and neither was the vociferous tone eminating from my throat.  Not that you cared.  I wasted my vociferosity.  It’s like, if you’re in the lane and they want to be in it.  There’s no, “please can I get a gap?”  They’re like, some begging gesture while driving into you.  And then they still have the bravado to rub it in your face and say thank you.  So now how are you meant to virtuously curse at them?  

And then one person, two blocks down, in a crowd of ninety-two seems to be looking their way and walking a bit faster than everyone else.  In their minds?  They’re calling out to them to stop!  Cool!  They stop dead in front of you.  Does.  Not.  Matter.  Where!  And then beg your forgiveness and again.  Every word that would question your morality and that of your parents, is coming to mind and oozing outa your mouth and they hit you with that noble, thank you gesture.  Aaaaargh.  If you’re gonna be a danger to my life?  Be a danger to my life.  Please don’t thank me for it!

Think about this for a moment.  Not like that.  Not any ol’ how.  I mean think.  Hard.  Like you mean it.  How many of us would be calmer drivers if everybody just stayed in their lane?  And guess what?  That applies to life in general.  Can I get a honk-honk.  Get it?  Honk hon…’cause…I’m…see?  ‘Cause taxi’s are vehicles and they honk.  Or we…honk….before they try to…kill us.    

I have one message for these pitiless scoundrels!  If the goat you’re carrying in the passenger seat has crapped all over it?  (Readers?  I’ve shown you proof of the live-stock. Haven’t I?)  If you missed it, don’t worry…I got ya!  We…us that are not in front of the wheel of a 18-seater, packing thirty-six people and the youngest member of the cattle herd!  We had nothing to do with that.  It’s most probably your driving that led to movements of those kinds.  Let us not suffer for the bowels of the flock.  All we ask is for a peaceful ride home.  A peaceful ride to work. 

But then….sigh, it’s hopeless.  ‘Cause then there are the pedestrians.  CRAPPPP!?!?!?!  

Nelson Mandela

He's 95 years old today. Isn't that something? Ninety whole five! Meanwhile? He's been in the hospital for a while now and news reports say that he will be going home soon.

This, after the entire country was preparing for the worst and it only tells us that even at this age, his determination hasn't faltered! Most people can't remember whether their fish is a cat or a dog by ninety-five....

So, in his honour, I post this picture and quote...words we can all relate to!

Happy Birthday, Madiba!
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Encountering The Voice of Forgiveness

I had theeeee best two days evvvvvvvvver!   So yesterday, right?  Was Tuesday. 

There I was, I’m minding my own business.  Doing my work and this….voice keeps talking to me.  Noooooh, noh!  It wasn’t because of DT’s.  That was last week.  ;-)  So, I’m hearing this voice and I’m like, “Voice?  Come on now.  Keep it down, can’t you see a girls tryna work here?  Look…look at my desk!”  You’d think it’d listen after I told it to look at my desk.   SMH.  If someone told you to look at their desk?  What does that mean?  It means be quiet, right?  Yeah.  At least someone understands. 

But nooooooooooooooooh.  Not the voice.  I thought if I gave it a dirty look, it would succumb to the pressure so I turn towards it.  I couldn’t find it. DRAT!!  I can’t see inside my head.  My talents have limits, okay. 

I then go back to what I was doing, after the other voice in my head said, “Hmmmmpf!”  Yes!  It said an action.  Voices have no mouths.  They just talk.  O_o!  Okay, this…this is not going as I planned.  Does sound like DT’s.  My only advice at this point is…just have faith.  Ye ol’ Rambler alwayyyyyys manages to bring the madness together, somehow, don’t I?  Ofcourse I don’t.  I mean, ofcourse I do. 

“Forgive, forgive, forgive!” 

Woahhh.  Can’t believe I’ve got 384 pages of writing on this blog word document.  That’s alota writing.  Thank you, Blackberry.  And my thumbs!  Hmmmmmmmmmmm?  Maybe I should try publishing this.  What you think?  “Blog of a mad Coloured Rambler.” 

What?  O_o

Whaaaaaaat?  O_o

The voice?!?!?  >_<  Oh oh oh yeah!  Sorry about that.  My eyes wandered off and found the page count.  And you know me.  When my eyes find the page count, anythings possible.  Except push-ups.  That’s a reaction to nothing but Jarryd’s instruction in dance class and even then.  I wanna resist but I dowanna be thrown out.  He’s the boss in that studio.  So yeah, allllllll day, “Forgive, forgive, forgive…..”  I realized that when a voice repeats the same word over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over?  It might not know another one….or?!?!  Orrrrr?  It may mean business. 

Lemme tell you something.  One of the most difficult journey’s for me has been reaching a point of being able to let go of past hurts and pain and honestly walk away from them.  Yesterday?  Two of my journies ended.  I felt a calm like never before where it didn’t hurt anymore.  It didn’t cause me anger anymore.  I was chatting to my cousin Cindy the other day and from our conversation, I understood what was going on.  I believe that this was the first time that I’d consciously heard God talk to me.  There were probably countless other times that He did, where I didn’t recognise it or didn’t acknowledge it the way I should have, but something incredible happened to me yesterday.  He didn’t stop until He got through to me.

Have you ever made a decision and knew?  You knew with everything inside of you that it was the right one?  I started thinking about the very beginning of time.  I see you eyeballing that last sentence.  Not….not alllllll the way back to Adam and Eve.  Come on now?  You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?  Throw me off track ‘cause you’re well aware that if you start asking me questions while I’m in the middle of a story, I might just start a new one relating to something you mentioned. 

Jus-jussst walk with me here, okay…thatttt’s it.  Next to me.  No need to be running wild in the Garden of Eden.  Didn’t you hear?  There’re snakes there. 

No.  I’m referring to the beginning of my time.  Two very lonnnnnnng standing occurrences that I’ve been unable to walk away from?  All I could think about!!  And I’m talking over thirty years worth of harbouring this anger and resentment over what happened.  It all just…left me.  Just like that.  And I feel absolutely, indescribably, new! 

Today, I woke up and I decided that I’m gonna let those people involved know so that they too can free themselves and I did and guess what?!  I feel even better after having done that! 

Uh-oh!  It’s now just turned into tomorrow.  I’m gonna get some rest so that I can wake as fresh and as enthusiastic as I did today!  See you guys soon!

Peace!

As promised........

I have to admit...Kimora looked pretty cute....I have no words for the rest of us...LOL!

A Fourth of July Makeover

Had to pass by to wish you guys a great 4th of July!  :-)  I'mmmmm too sweet-y for this post...too sweet-y for th.......Whatever happened to that guy?  "I'm too sexy for a singing career"  Whaaaaaat?  A singing career, my shirt?!?  Like there's a difference.  That’s what happens when you profess to be so sexy, it hurts.  It hurt, alright.  And?  Whyyyy am I picturing him in a lumo tank top?

All I’m saying is that at least Milli Vanilli made more than one song.  With other peoples voices, but still.  They had nations, fooled.  Don't act like you weren't getting down to those fraudulent jams!  You were right there....fraudulently dancing, weren’t you?  Come-on.  You knew all the words to “Girl you know it’s true”, didn’t you?  I did.  That’s just a lie not worth telling.  Admission is the first step to healthy guilt.  You heard it here first!

Onto today’s weather report.  It's a rainy one in Durban and the only significance the day holds here, is that it's Friday tomorrow.  There'll be no fireworks.  Unless someone puts together a last minute ANC / IFP march down the main city street.  Gungunglovu Street or some crap like that.  Don’t quote me.  You might get lost.  So?  No fireworks, no celebrations.   Unless Julius Malema's mouth suddenly disappears off of his face. 

As you can see there are oodles of possibilities but noooooooooh, jussssst an ordinary winters day out here along these coastal parts.  Uh_oh....my washing machine sounds as though it needs to go for speech therapy.  Not.  A.  good.  Sign. 

Reminicing is great, isn’t it?  So glad we were given memory.  Sitting here, thinking about 2008.  The last time I saw a 4^th of July.  >_<!!!  That kinda didn’t come out right, did it?  O_o. I sound dead.  Good thing I wasn’t dead five years ago on this day.  Else, I wouldn’t be able to share this 4^th of July story with you. 

Ali, Gills and myself....three of us.  You can count.  Okay, no need for sarcasm. 

We find ourselves in the heart of New York City, right?  I say that like I wasn’t on the plane sitting next to Ali.  Whose ankles coulda easily represented Puff Daddy on the reality show, “Which Body Part presents a Celebrity’s name”.  It’s not out yet, but I’m sure it’s in the pipeline. 

Therrrrrrre we were....wandering around in the city that never sleeps.  Thinking that it was a first-class idea to go to Sephora for a make over.  We absolutely loved it in there.  Psssssssst...peep this.  You can use allllllllllll of their makeup to your hearts content.  For free.  And nobody calls security.  So, after a long day of walking the city flat and shopping and posing for pictures?  We go in there and Gillian?  She wants smokey eyes, right.  LMAO!  Ali wanted something.  I cant remember what it was but I remember clearly what she got.  

As for me?  I much prefer the natural look, but because I wore a green tshirt...?  Dammit!  :-/  You know, I'm just weak.  My will, it was proven, is no match for a make-up artist hellbent on green eyeshadow.  Had I known I was about to be colour coded?  I’da pitched nude.    

By the way.  I’ve been trying to find the pics to actually show you guys and that's the reason I've posted this late.  But I promise to post them once I find them, okay? 

Lemme tell you something.  We walked in there, Stacey, Ali and Gillian.  We walked outa there……Two K’s and a YTF.  And I don’t mean in the Kim and Kourtney take New York, kinda way.  I mean the opposite.  I mean, Kermit, Kimora and YTF are your eyelids pitch black, kinda way!

I think Gillian was traumatised.  She had to have been since she didn’t make it to the fireworks display that night.  But Kimora and I did.  It rained, I remember but thanks to our hoods, our make-up stayed intact.  Now whether that’s a good or a bad thing?  You can judge for yourself once I post the pics.  Me?  I’m trying to understand why I’m saying thanks to...I guess because scaring innocent children wasn’t what we were there to do.  

^_^!  Happy 4^th of July, everyone.  

Manic Diagnosing

I hope you haven't completely written me off!  That would be uncool.  And cold.  Like this winter.  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  And let's not talk about....depressing!

Uhhhh...On second thought? 

Let's! 

I have a question.  Is it me or has anyone else noticed how just.....just willy-nilly doctors have begun handing out the "depression" verdict?  I’m warning y’all.  It’s no longer safe around these parts, my friends.  Think twice before you decide to get a stiff neck in your sleep!  Or else....DIN DIN DIN DINNNNNNNNNNNN........  

Close your eyes.  Crap!  Then you wont be able to read.  Squint your eyes then, it’s better than nothing.  And let me take you on a depressing visit to the doctors office.  Ready?  Seat belt on?  Here we go....

You walk in there......you.  Go to the window, they take out your file, you sit down, watch the snowy TV they’ve mounted on the wall to keep you calm and distracted...in case you hear screams coming from the back.  Can’t have that.  Can’t have fear in the waiting area.  That’s for the dentist’s office.  Not the GP.  Here?  You have a choice on whether you want the injection.

Your eyes are taking strain because your neck can’t support your upturned head without you wanting to break the hand of the person next to you.  In half.  You don’t know them.  They’ve done nothing to deserve it, other than appear to be watching TV in a painless fashion.  Finally, you hear, “Miss So-and-so, the doctor will see you now.”  I got that from the movies, by the way.  In real life, they just call your name.

"Doc?  My neck’s been stiff for two days!  Haven’t slept a wink.  It’s just too painful."  Automatically, your hand comes up and massages your neck.  As if he doesn’t know where it is.

"Hmmmmmmmmmm?  Looks like depression to me!  Here!  Take these."  (Notice how there’s no mention of Icy Hot on the script)

O_O!  (that’s you, phase 2)

Okay, alrighT.  For the sake of fairness and all that is good and kind.  Granted, you've staggered into his/her office looking all cheerless and wretched and dark about the eyes.  It’s beyond me why you were limping.  To the man on the street, “Mannnnnnn, she looks emotionally troubled.”  But?!?  This aint no man on the street.  This is your doctor in his/her office.  Annnnnnnd?!?!  You do have a knot the size of a golf ball in your neck!  I feel your pain too.  I’m remembering the time I went for a full body massage and landed up in the chiropractors office.  I’m thanking my lucky stars right now that I didn’t go to your doctor, ‘cause I was not a happy chappy.  Happy Chappete.  ‘Cause I’m a female.  You know?  Like dude / dudette. 

Anyhooooo.......

Before you know it, you're hobbling right back outa there with a doctors note for manic depression and a prescription for meds with which heavy machinery should not be operated.  Nevermind, you just drove there.  Now...zooooooooooom....you’re off to the pharmacy.  You've filled out your prescription in total confusion.  Everything happened so fast.  You keep repeating to yourself, "He/she didn't even touch my neck." 

You're handed your meds by a pharmacist assistant who is clearly being nicer than normal since she’s well aware of what those tablets are for.  Besides?  Last thing she wants is for you to burst out in a frenzied wail orrrr...or snap and impulsively start flipping over medical pamphlets or something.  Depression can go either way.  You remove the insert and read.  I rarely do, but this is not about me.  Your head is already spinning from finding out that you're not the joyful, content person you once believed you were.  Once, as in about two hours ago.  Add to that, the disappointment of truly thinking that you were at the very least, in for a massage!  Things are just not playing out the way you imagined them, are they?  Now?  You've come to the 'warnings'. 

That diagnosis has baffled you so much that loss of concentration has caused you not to realize that you havent taken one of those little white bastard tablets, yet.  So, you’re standing outside.  Afraid.  Because there is a heavy machine parked in front of you.  And it’s yours.  And you need to get home.  But the insert said, leave it alone or else you’re gonna die.  So, all you’re doing is staring at your car, wondering, "How am I gonna drive home?"  I blame the doctor.  But as I said.  This is not about me. 

It’s now been a week of ingesting the medication prescribed for you.  And like a good little patient, you’ve convinced yourself that the doctor knows best.  Before long?  Whether you're Arthur or Marthur?  You just don't have a clue!  (Introducing, you, phase complete!)  Your mind is no longer alert enough to remind you that do have an Identity Document that cannnn help you figure that one out.  You're walking around the house like a stiff-necked zombie and your kids are like, "What happened to our mum?"  Smh!  Oooooops, my apologies.  I didn't mean to be insensitive with the whole 'shake my head' thing.  That's how this whole got thing started, didn't it?

And there you go.  I’m making light of this but I'm not blind and neither am I stupid.  Depression is a real illness but it's severity is being mocked by over-diagnosis.  Thats the just the way I see it.  Whether GP’s and psychologists have made some sort of a pact?  Shrug my shoulders.  Whether there’s an over supply of depression medication?  Shrug my shoulders.  Whatever it is.  You should, on some level, know whether you’re in a state of depression or not.  And at times, doctors don’t know best.  My mum wouldn’t be here today, if that were the case. 

And I know that I might have over-exaggerated the scenario in my storyline.  It’s what ramblers do.  But I’m hoping that somewhere in there, I’ve made my point.  Oh okay...so now you’re gonna ask me what my point was, huh?  You must be a doctor. 

My point is this.  Don’t be raked into believing that your emotional state is worst than what you know it to be and feel it to be, simply because a doctor is telling you that it is.  And if you actually are in depression?  Don’t be raked into believing that those tablets they give you, removes whatever it is, causing you emotional strain.  They might numb the problem.  But they don’t solve it.  Take it from someone who’s been there.  It takes support, not sedation, to help you through it.

Bilingual Much...?

It wouldn't be a visit from my beloved big sister if she didn't ask me, "Are you on i-tube?"  O_o! Haaaaaaaaahahahahhaha!  I love her so much!  And then tried to redeem herself by insisting that she meant to say i-tunes. LOL!  I heard no sssssssss!  Meanwhile?  She knows full well that we're all very much aware of her social media skills.  

And by that I mean, total lack of.....her head is too full of work information.  No, true.  She's brilliant at her job and I'm starting to believe her when she says that she does just let loose when she's around us and simply enjoys, us, enjoying her silly side!  

By now Sharde' and Paige, our daughters?  Created a Facebook profile for her, invited the family and everything.  So you know how it is when people start accepting invites and stuff?  In typical, my sister, fashion?  Girl was about to start replying to notifications!  Thank goodness my niece caught her in time.  "I'm getting emails and emails from everyone?!?"

Pssssssssst...she meant she was getting notifications of being accepted as a contact or a relative!  I don't think that it hit her that they were all saying the same thing, like "(Insert Name) accepted your Facebook invitation..."  

Oooooooooo-wooooooooooh!  I shudder.  

If she was left to her own social media devices?  Facebook, I'm sure, woulda banned her by now and then sent her name to all and every other network with a huge flashing red note, "SUSPEND ACCOUNT UPON CREATION!"  

I cringe when I think about what both Facebook and her contacts are gonna be in for once she learns how to update her status.  Learns?  A-HEM!  Hmmmmmmmmmm?  Shown, rather.  I can see it now.  "But I thought that's where you search for people?"  That's after someone calls her up and asks, "Why do you have so-and-so's name as your status so many times?"  

Do any of you Remember her Christmas broadcast?  The BILINGUAL one she sent to the whole family?  I think it even sobered up our drunk relatives.  I'm willing to bet the cellulite on both my thighs that her phone is still defaulted to predictive text, so don't be shocked if you need to download a translation application to decipher her updates.  And don't say I didn't give y'all the heads up, either!

I can see it now.  Come.  Come see it with me...it's a quiet morning at the office.  You're boss is out to a meeting so you do what any person, aside from my sister, would do in those circumstances.  Work.  

Heh-heh-heh-heh!!  Not!

You log onto Facebook!  Thaaaaaaat's it.  The truth shall set you free.  So, you're relaaaaxed, log in, check for red flags.  New messagessssss.  Delete people, if you're nasty like that.  And finalllly?  It's time to scroll through your news feeds.  You can't be having a more stress free day until you see....

"Hey familia! How's everyone dobraye? (doing)" 

She's all chuffed about having successfully statused and while she's listening to her new favourite song, Beautiful by Miguel and Mariah Carey?  She wonders why it's taking a teeeeeeeny bit of time for one of them to comment.  

Meeeeeeeanwhile?  Like her Christmas message?  She didn't bother reading it before she hit send!  On the other side of her computer screen?  After they've craned themselves up off the floor from laughing so hard!  Her South African contacts are scrambling to google the word "dobraye".  However?  Out in Russia?  They know exactly what that word means! 

It's rather sinful that I'm not on Facebook anymore.  I just know how much fun I'm gonna be missing once she gets going!  Haaaaaahahahahhaha! 

...After Some Time

Mannnnnnnn?! Feels like FOREVER since I've been on here. In dog days, it probably is. I feel like an imposter! SEIZZZZZZE MEEEEEEE!!!

A-hem!

Dramatic entrances aside....

Helllllo YOU! And YOU and YOUUUU! Here's a smile to brighten up your day! ^_^! 'Cause I've missed you! And and and? It's a public holiday on Monday! If you have work on Monday? I'm sorry, but Na, na-na, na, naaaaaa!

I might as well come clean about why I've been AWOL of late. See, this is what happened, and it's pretty simple, realllllly. Nothing too complicated or difficult to understand, y'know? Truth is....I can't find me thumbs...so sad...like this :-( Me thumbs have gone amiss! And it's all Summer's fault! This is her, "Staceeeeeeeey? Can you take your thummmmmmbs off for me, pleeeeeease?" Ruthlessly too, even if I'm eating. Or drinking tea. Travesty-ish!

I can do that too. Without having alien DNA. And lemme not mislead you. I can PRETEND to do that. Convincingly so. If you're under ten. Me? I'm her Godmother, so I'm not allowed to say no to most things. It's a Godparent rule to say yes when your beautiful Godchild asks you to detach parts of your body that are vital for blogging. Or holding your mug of tea. SMH! Tea is extremely important to me. If you invented it? Bless your soul. And if you didn't? Bless your soul, too. Maybe that Blessing will inspire you to invent something else I can't live without!

Plus? When her eyes get all big and wondrous? Awwwww man, the sugar lump! "HOW DO YOU DO THAAAAT?" It's the cutest thing eVer! Who wouldn't risk losing their thumbs for that?

So, yeah! That's precisely what happened.

P-precisely.

O_o!

Okay, the glares of disbelief are totally ruining my story. Stop it! You don't even KNOW that it's not true. And I know what you're thinking too. Without being a mind reader. I can do lots of things without having the things you need to do those things. Gifted or mentally disturbed. I'm still deciding. I just have to Ohhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm....Ohhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm...and it comes to me. You're saying to yourself, "Liar!" Too harsh? K, let's try again! Sometimes it takes more than one Ohhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm.... ohhhhhhmmmmmmmmm.....

You're saying to yourself....?

Rambler? Come-on? Losing your thumbs is as believable as us looking at our television, seeing words scurrying across the screen, that say, "BREAAAAAAKING NEWS: A CERTAIN PERSON (I WON'T MENTION NAMES) HAS STEPPED DOWN FROM HIS POSITION AS SOUTH AFRICA'S PRESIDENT DUE TO OPEN-HIS-MOUTH-AND-CURRENCY-DROPS SYNDROME!"

Ay, don't look all skewed at me. I just report the news as I hear it. Not sitting here, sucking things outa my---my thumbs. I don't even HAVE thumbs! I told you, p-precisely, how I lost them.
All I know is that the day he gave a speech about the labour unrest here? POOF! We suddenly had to pay over ten Rands for one Dollar. It's no fun being South African when the odd's are ten to one, out of your favour! Odds that can easily be translated from currency to how many possibilities there are of you being hijacked on your way to somewhere, in one day! Meanwhile? Now he's like, "Don't blame me for the dip in the Rand!" Eh! I know it wasn't me.

I'd bite my tongue in twelve different places if I told you how much one Pound now costs us! So I'm not. We have a barbecue at work today and I need my tongue to eat. Besides, I'm not the one who should be biting my tongue anyway. Then again, maybe I am. (Shrug) Just not today.

On a serious note though, I've been tied up in my sons exams and just had a lota other stuff going on over this pass month or two and because of some of that stuff? I've totally lost any and all inspiration I had to write. The post that you're reading right now? Took me three days to finish! Hor-rible! The barbecue? Is long-time over. But?!? The good thing is that I AM trying. Struggling, but trying. No matter how long it's taken me? At the end of this earnest attempt, I'll have posted SOMETHING on a blog that means a whole lot to me.

Close your eyes and picture this. Picture how, as a writer, or wait! Lemme say it right, aspiring, writer. You're at your creative best. Your head feels like it's gonna explode if you don't either put a pen to paper or type out your thoughts. Idea's are flowing through your mind like a river. The Nile River. Well?

Unpicture it.

My head was a dam. My mind was dam wall. My creative idea's? They were like the fish. Trapped to a standstill! And that, my friends! Is one disadvantage of water energy, aka, hydro-electric power! (-__- There she goes again!) I heard that. Shhhhhhhhhhh, knowledge is power! It's that it traps fish. In dams. Poor disadvantaged things. Their one and only mode of transport is to swim freely and then BAMMMMMMMMMM! Smooching concrete, thinking, "URRRRGH! MF@*#.?/ DAM WALL!"

Wait? So, if a few of them manage to find a hole in the dam wall? And swim through into the vast, open, free ocean waters? Does that make them previously-disadvantaged fish? Hmmmmmmm?

I shall leave you with THAT thought on which to ponder and if you were the unfortunate recipient of my na, na-na, na, naaaaaaa? An excuse to get out of work on Monday.

It's time for me to love and leave you! My eyes are jussssssst about closing. But I will be back! You're not getting rid of me that easily. Oh oh oh! And if I don't see you before Sunday, Happy Father's Day!

Ramble Responsibly, ^_^!!!
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Jolly June

Hello-hello! I won't be on here long. I've had weeks of late nights and early mornings, followed by hours of Maths today. Burnt. Out.

Now?

As my reward? I'm off to the spa for some well-deserved pampering sessions. Mmmmmmm-M! That's right! And tonight?!? Aliens from planet NeverandEver shall appear at my door, bearing chocolates and a karaoke machine. After which we will perform duet after duet, solo after solo, until one or all of us pass out on the lounge carpet, hoarse-throated, O_o OMG, what was that?!? Throated? And drunk on cocoa and nuts. 'Cause they brought me Ferrera Rocher's.

You believed me, huh? Lol!

Things like that evade me. The ONE time I do get a professional massage, which I send myself for? My next stop was the chiropractor...eh! So......since spa treatments, alien visits, karaoke or an overload of carbs aren't in the cards for me in this lifetime? I mean? Who needs to be spoilt, anyway :-/ so over-rated. :-\

I will do the next best thing. Curse!

I mean......nothing!

Nothing but soak up this deafening silence. It's not often anymore that I get to enjoy spending time with just walls. God, I hate life SO much right now.

A-hem! I knew that was coming, which is why? To avoid further random outburst of displeasure? I'm just stopping by to wish you all the best for June. I hope the second half of the year is a fulfilling and successful one for all of you.

I have a date with painted cement! Yippppppppeeeeeeeee! -_-
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

All Up in Smoke

Do you ever feeeeeel as if you don't actually know how you feel?  You're feeling something.  But the feelings you're feeling?  You can't put a name on them?  And you're feeling and you're feeling and.....

Great!  I've confused myself even more, which is fine.  I'm forty.  Instant forgiveness.  When you get to my age, remember the three F's.  @*#?!/:(#.  O_O!  Oooooooooops!  Not those...those do come in handy at times, for the taxi drivers on the road, A-HEM....but?!?  I was referring to thessssse...Fine, forty, forgiveness. 

Baaaaaack to the matter at hand.  This confused feelings issue...Is it a woman thing? 

A human thing? 

F-feel free to jump in at any time. 

A full moon thing? 

Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!

YOH-YOH!  That's it!  It's an aaaaaaaaaaargh thing!   -_-  I've no idea why I just said, "Yoh-yoh!"  Probably these hip-hop dance clothes I'm wearing.  They turn you gangsta.  LOL...I can hear Geese right now, " Ohhhh yeah!  You’re gangsta!  Meanwhile?  Let a cockroach come-a-crawling...You’ll be a gangsta, running and hiding behind me!"  Hahahahhahaha!

And see?  This is why I enjoy writing.  It allows you to sort through the uncertainties that have been plaguing you for days and weeks.  You get to throw some suggestions out there, hope someone, somewhere is reading.  Until something clicks and you find yourself yelling, “YOH-YOH!” and blaming your clothing.

I was excited okayyyy.......'Cause those are the types of conversations I've been having with myself lately.   Just,...."Why did I....Aaaaaaaaargh!"  "Sometimes you reallllllllly...Aaaaaaargh!"  "@+?#*?@ Aaaaaaaaargh! I woke up!"  

Deep, huh? 

Enthralling?!   

No?

Aaaaaaaaaarghy? 

Hey!  Come-onnnnnnnn now.  I gotta get ready for work, you can't have me sitting here all morning tryna find a suitable word for the types of conversations I have with myself.  How about we just go with...with, aaaaaaaarghy...conversations?  Protest all you want.  It’s my blog.  I get to choose.  Nevermind, you have them too.  You just never knew until now....see?  We're here...(Two finger motion from my infected eyes to yours, I don't know if yours are infected, so I just said, yours.....I'm not here to offend....two finger motion from blah blah blah...to portray understanding between two people).

Sitting here.  I've become somewhat of a chain smoker.  My poor lungs.  “Lungs?  I’m very sorry for being this abusive.”  I guess I should make a note that those are to be excluded from my organ donation.  Sigh.  It might sound as if I’m taking this lightly, but the truth is that I know I need to stop smoking.  But like all bad habits are?  Possessive.  Smoking is too.  If your will is not as strong as it should be?  Nicotine easily becomes one of your best friends.  While it slowwwwwwwly kills you...dead.      

I'm not alone too.  Well?  I am.  Alone.  Geese is farrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  But I'm not, in this whole smoking thing.  We were chatting on the soccer grounds and the subject of smoking came up where?  While I'd already come to the like conclusion?  Hehehehe, sounds cute huh?  Like conclusion.  One of the ladies admitted that, it's her company.  She's a single mother, just like I am.  Lives with her son.  And I whispered to myself, no.  My mind whispered to myself.  Before you think I go around whispering to myself in public...."Thannnnnnnnk goodness!  I'm not going crazy, afterall!" 

Funny thing is?  I thought that I was and I found myself blogging about the very same thing about two weeks ago and then?  Promptly, deleted everything I’d typed.  I can't tell you why.  Hmmmmmmmmm, actually?  No, I can.  I thought I was crazy for thinking that because I was lonely?  You know how it is when you have no adult company.  When you have no company other than those you bore?  Where all I seem to be doing with one is schoolwork, my earned complimentary teachers degree should be ready and waiting for me after this year is out.........and the other one has bound herself to her girl cave and only emerges when it is time to eat, shower or tell me something funny that Summer did during the day.  Maybe I should remove her door? 

I'm cooking. 

Not now.  Now, I'm on my way to work.  Not to worrrrrry, Wendy's driving.  I’m talking about the evening that I realized that I was in the midst of having a special relationship with my Kent...Specials.  I'm cookinnnnnng, stir, stir, stir...bang, bang, bang (the sound of the spoon against the rim of the pot)....close the pot and I sit down.  I’m looking around and the kitchen cupboards appeared to have been about to say something but then shut back up.  They were like, “We’re hanging.  That’s more than we can say for anyone else you know.”  At that point, somewhere inside of me hoped that the cutlery would start a little tête-à-tête, but they too, were pleading the 5^th. 

I musta just finished smoke a cigarette about twenty minutes before everything in my kitchen felt just cold and unfriendly.  Dunno what I expected from wood and metal, but anyway.  I light another cigarette and stare outa the kitchen window.  Can you see it in your mind's eye?  Okay, good.  Lemme tell you something.  Even if you forgot?  The burn in your throat will quickly let you know, “You just smoked fool!  What are you doing, lighting up another cigarette?”  Wendy and I sometimes look at each other, “You know?  We’re just being greedy.  We just smoked.”  Why?  Because our throats are on fire to the point where neither of us are even enjoying that cigarette, but habit and nicotine greed threw us down the stairs and outa the building, and there we are....smoking again.

It was in the kitchen, on that quiet night, while my throat was ablaze, that I admitted to myself that I’m using these cigarettes as compensation for the fact that I feel lonesome.  Which is...not...good.  I found myself being forced to start writing about it there and then and even as I sit here now, writing this?  I still remember how I started that blog too....sitting alone on a swivel chair, smoking....

And lemme just say this.  I’m not as much, whining about the fact that I’m lonely, I made the choices that got me to this point.  This is about, you annnnnd me, taking that first step to honestly look at our addictions and work through the reasons, we have them.  Maybe from there, we can go to the next step...I don’t know yet what that is...Have I stopped smoking?  Not.  Yet!  Maybe the next step then, would be to, one day at a time, try to reduce our interaction with whatever it is that we’re compensating with.  Until finally, we don’t need them anymore.