I may have made a mistake

ooops???

it's too late now as I have already committed myself.

Friday night sees me behind the bar for BURN'S annual halloween party

this is not at all a career change but more of and exercise in a laugh a minute.

as per the demand

My last post was a long time ago. If you read further down, you'll find the date yourself.

The last year of my life or so has not been chronicled by me on a public website. A lot has happened.

I suppose in some ways, it has been a difficult year. At the beginning of the year I was given a chance and then had it yanked out from underneath me despite having consistently proved myself. As horrible and pathetic as this might seem, I’m back in the situation that resulted in me being where I am at the moment. All is not lost however, there are plans in the works to make life better or worse … depending in which direction things go.

I must admit, I miss blogging. I liked being able to put my opinions out there for anyone and everyone to read and judge me for. But things have not quite worked out the way I planned. I got my very own laptop and before I became even accustomed to owning one. It was cruelly ripped out my hands.

From church no less.

In the painful days and weeks following the event, I spent much time crying. How could I not? I worked hard for the things I got and to have them taken from me was an incredible betrayal. It still is.

But I suppose you move on. We all move on eventually

hello ... how are you?

it's been a long long time since the last post.

nothing serious happened till now.

And yet I'm reluctant to talk about it other than to say balls of fury.
I've grown a lot since my last post. I stood strong while the waves crashed around me.

perhaps that was the reason for the lack of posting. growth is such a personal thing and while it is important to talk about, perhaps this is not the right setting.

I now officially have an Internet connection at home so if there's a long time between this and the next post. I unfortunately have no excuse.

or I might. I might start growing again.

I'm looking to extending myself. reaching beyond what I thought I could do. Pushing to the next hurdle.

Sometimes the only way to learn to swim is to jump in the deep end. Sometimes you drown. Sometimes you swim.

I am a big ball of smiles

yesterday was not a very easy day for me.

 

 

today I'm all SMILES

 

Today in the first week of the month

 

I MADE budget.

trying to clear my head

This week is not the best week in history for me.

 

Life is not like Toyota where everything keeps going right. This week it all seems to be falling apart. Like Chineu Achebe. Things fall apart.

Except this time it has nothing to do with colonialism. Perhaps this is a moment that I just need some choc chip ice cream and a bed and time to just fall apart.

 

This I suppose is a moping post and it has much to do with my disposition right now.

Yesterday was the most annoying day with the realisation that sometimes family can drive you up the fucking wall.  

 

You try to help people and they turn around and kick you in the butt and then blame you for it.

I called some people to tell them about a job opportunity. Very limited time offer. They call me an hour before the end of the workday to ask what's going on. Unfortunately I work in a world of deadlines. If you can't meet a deadline, don't expect me to come running after you and then sure as hell DO NOT BLAME ME FOR YOUR BLOODY INEFFICIENCY. I do not give a rat's ass about whether you are upset or not

I'm over that. Like someone very special told me. "Don't waste energy on unimportant un intelligent people. IT'S TOO MUCH EFFORT."

 

Unfortunately no one told me what to do about the important intelligent people.  

Perhaps things are falling apart and if they are, I will stand up and be counted.

 

Today a part of me died. It's gone and I may never get it back.

 

 

In the interest of never having parts of me die again here are some tips on being friends with me.

 

 

1)      Don't ever stop talking to me. Gary Chapman of the five love languages says that people have love tanks that need to be filled. My is talking. Talking to me says to me that you acknowledge me. That you see and hear me. Talk at me, scream at me. Whatever you do or don't do. JUST NEVER EVER NOT TALK TO ME.

 

This rule applies only in an argument and is actually the only rule to being friends with me.

 

This is a very strange post cos right now I'm in a very strange mood. 

I am a blue flame of furious

I could be Jack's raging bile duct.

 

There are moments in your life when throwing a tantrum is perfectly acceptable. When you want to scream and shout and throw things around.

I had one of those days yesterday.

 

My darling husband bought me an MP4 player and a FM modulator for Christmas.

My darling cousin Jackie put loads of music on it for me. Music to my hearts content

In theory a perfect concept and then the damn thing stopped working.

I had a little tantrum where I called Tim and screamed about buying stupid no name CRAP and then proceeded to calm down courtesy of the brilliant sounds of Tiesto.

After my meeting, I sat in my car and painstakingly tried to figure out what was wrong with the MP4 player and all it's friends. I did so. I even managed to get to the stage where I had plugged in some head phones and happily driving along listening to Alanis Morrisette. It seemed fitting to have her mournful cadence filling my ears.

I was driving along happily singing along

And then

 

AND THEN.

 

THE ****ING BATTERY DIED.

 

The battery died.

This then resulted in another call to Tim that featured loads of alternate screaming and hysterical laughing. You know what they say. You scream or laugh. I did both.

 

AND THEN

 

I was told that I'm doing enough work, despite having three very lucrative potential things on the table. I understand where management is coming from. I really do understand.

I really really do.

BUT

I was having a bad day.

And as rational as the thoughts may be, I was not really in the mood to hear them. As I've said a million times before. BAD DAY

 

The absolute cherry on the cake was ordering a toasted sandwich and it wasn't toasted.

 

By this stage I was in no mood to deal with anything at all ever.

 

But I'm okay now.

 

At least I think so

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s official.

The night lights have been turned on again in Durban.


It was a beautiful event. In all of it’s narcotic and drunken glory. It was a night of celebration for everyone who attended; a veritable orgy of light and sound. March 1st 2008 will go down in history as one of the best night ever.

That’s all. I can’t really say much more other than that the pink went down very well.

And finally two word’s to the brilliant DJ’s

PLAY ON, PLAY ON.


Oh and I broke all my black bangles …. Darn

VOTE OF THANKS

Thank you to JEREMY. You made it happen.
Thank you to JACKIE for doing my hair.
Thank you to BAHEYA. I promise not to be as much trouble next time.
Thank you to LILY ROSE. Hot stuff lady.
Thank you to the DJ that played Detroit City. Who ever you are, you fulfilled one of my fantasies.
THANK YOU to MARC T. You are the SHIT.


Finally and most importantly. THANK YOU to MR HOLROYD. You are IT.

black bangles

I've never been one for bangles. I never had any and when I did, they got annoying and thy broke too quickly and I suppose there was a whole host of reasons, I never wore bangles.

 

But then there was a change in lifestyle that came with a reluctance to wear my expensive sentimental jewellery to clubs and other dodgy places. Not wearing anything at all was not an option as I had become very attached to having something on my wrist and it feels weird to not wear anything on it.

 

My cheap jewellery of choice became bangles. Black bangles in particular. There was no sinister reason or anything behind it. It was actually more practical than anything.

Black goes with everything and I tend to wear a lot of black. So black bangles made sense.

 

Then came along the inevitable.

I had the bangles and I wanted to wear them. So I did. Not all the time but whenever I felt like I did. Loads of bangles jingling on my arm. I kinda liked it. It was fun and nice and I continued on this way constantly searching for the perfect black bangles.

 

And then it happened.

 

'THE QUESTION'.

The question took me entirely by surprise. I am aware that there are people who find the devil in every nook and cranny but I was completely unprepared when it came at me.

"Is there any meaning behind wearing black bangles?"

 

Talk about being sucker punched. All the air that was floating around my system helping me maintain that daily act of breathing flew out in a gush. A feather could have knocked me over. And the person who almost always had something to say was left entirely speechless.

 

As I flustered an answer my opponent already had the left hook ready and waiting.

"Just cos that some African tribes wear certain bangles and thing as something to do with their ancestors" or something to that effect. The blood rushing to my head did not allow for accurate memory retention.

 

So down I went. My only option was to flee. Fast and furious I went out in the wide open room.

Reeling.

 

Is it really a big deal? Black bangles? I'm not really sure. I'll tell you on thing for certain. I bought then from a Pakistani guy at Gen City in Phoenix. They're cheap and three of them broke already.

But I like them.

 

I do understand that some people are hell bent (excuse the pun) on finding darkness in every little nook and cranny but well really, there's a limit. I remember being younger and told that I should not wear cross pendants cos Satanists pray over them to make every one who wears them, hate God. This was a bit difficult to swallow as my choice of pendant in nearly all of my jewellery is (didn't see this one coming?) a cross. So then that begs the question must I know never wear crosses my whole life. This coupled with everyone's aversion to black can be disconcerting sometimes.

 

I'm not gonna hid under a rock. Watching what I wear, the colours, they textures or even where it comes from. At the end of the day, it's just stuff and who controls your life and your destiny? Is it your stuff or your maker?

Black bangles, crosses, UV sticks. At the end of the day, it's all synthetic material that does nothing to maintain the delicate balance of the universe.

 

 

It's actually what's on the side that counts.  

pink spandex

Have I ever mentioned how much I absolutely love sitting on the phone and being on hold. I live for it. It makes every moment of my otherwise boring life seem so much more worthwhile. Those moments on the dance floor or eating the most divine food mean nothing when compared to sound of the telephone filling my ears. Everything else seems to pale in comparison to these moment.  Even my wedding day.

 

Okay I might be pushing it a bit now.

 

I've thinking a lot about skin colour recently.

 

Skin colour has been the topic of many an endless debate. Does the colour of your skin define who you are? Does it make you the person you were meant to be? Does it determine the role you play in society and how society itself perceives you?

 

Yes all of these things matter along with the reason I've been thinking about skin colour.

 

It all happened when I walked into a little store tucked away on a corner. Out of mind and out of site. I was dazzled. The clothes were lovely and clothes that in a normal day and time, I would never be wearing. However I had just been on the receiving end of a challenge to make myself noticeable and to "wear something insane". It was a challenge I took on with great relish. I thought about it quite a bit. "Something insane" can mean many things and lately personally, I've grown accustomed to my white hoodie with the skulls and cross bones.

 

So in this little store I stumbled across a neon pink spandex halter neck top that just screamed 'INSANE'. I gave into the voice at the back of me head and bought it.

I went home and demurely tried it on. After all one of my shape and size should never under any circumstances be wearing anything spandex … ever … at all.  Never mind the halter part

And there I was standing on the toilet in my bathroom staring at myself in neon pink spandex

 

Can I just say

 

I looked something brilliant.

 

And it had everything to do with the darkness of my skin. The neon pink seemed to take on a life of it own and really I looked something that I could never imagine my looking like.

Perhaps it was the challenge that enabled me to take this bold step but even to my own critical eye which is too often to put myself down, I could not think of a reason why I should not be seen in neon pink.

 

The point of this little diatribe is that I realised I don't have a problem with the colour of clothes. I look good in any colour. Even neon green. I know this cos I wear neo green every time I teach Sunday school.

 

So my skin colour may not be the favoured one world wide but at least I look good in all the colours the rainbow has to offer.

Okay

 

So after much thought and deliberation, I decided to deactivate my facebook account and oh boy did the queries start rolling in.

There are phases to everyone's life and while mine was obsessed with facebook and blogging for a while. I suppose now I have moved on.

A little anyway. Make no mistake. The urge to log back onto facebook and get some money on Fighter's Club will be one that will be hard to resist. After all for a little while, I lived and breathed Fighter's Club.

 

To be certain I have not exactly moved on entirely from facebook. I'm just taking an extended vacation. Similar to the one I took from blogging.

 

Anyone onto introspection.

I've realised something.

Sometimes I say too much. Please note that there is a distinct difference between talking too much and saying too much.

I say too much

 

Over the last weekend I've really been thinking a lot about how people see me and I must admit that I have no clue.

It's one of those things that you never ever do actually really know.

 

I hear what people say. How they talk about each other and then watch them with the person in question, all smiles and giggles and so taken with them.

Things like that have taught me that no matter how much somebody might be nice to me and compliment my hair, clothes and all that in front of my, it's only really the people that will tell me I look crap when I do that I really trust.

I suppose in a way I've made that a thing of mine.

To be honest. Always. No matter what.

 

I'll try at least.

I just re-connected

Sometimes we forget about the people from our past. They become fond memories that we dredge us and smile about and then put back into their little keep sake boxes. There are friends that we loose touch with. They leave their footprints on our hearts and then for some reason we never see again

And the sometimes just by chance
A little something that you could never see coming … you get the chance to reconnect.

I ran into old friends this year and it’s amazing to have done that. Sometimes it feels as though that time and distance meant nothing cos the connection is still there. It’s nice.

Hopefully this will be a chance to rebuild the bridges that I thought fell. It’s nice to go back in time with somebody that knew you back then.
I have no doubt that I’m a different person now than what I was back then. For one thing I live in my own house with my husband now. I go home if and when I feel like.
The whole house is mine instead of a tiny little bit of it.

So it will be interesting to see if the people we have become connect the same way our 16 year old selves did.


We promised to always stay in touch. Maybe it’s time to keep the promise.

Here’s hoping.

2007 in review

Okay so maybe the blogging thing went out of fashion or then again maybe I really didn’t have anything to say or maybe I got tooo lazy and didn’t feel like making the effort to do a post.

The new job goes well. Not so new anymore though. I started here 8 October and so now it’s just over three months and it’s all going well. The hick up of the last year are over.

It was a strange year last year. A lot of first’s most of which were terrifying and well really didn’t have to happen.
The list of first’ include

- Visit to the emergency room.
- Only report sold during my tenure at MarketWorks
- First brush with anesthetics
- Time staying out all night and only going home in the morning
- Traffic fine for a whopping R1500
- Time at an all you can eat prawn night.
- Time I got to hold my nephew soon after he was born
- Curry cooked by myself

So perhaps the list is not as brilliant looking as what it did last year. 2007 I think was a year of growing up. A lot of growing up.
It would not be accurate to say that I didn’t loose anybody who was close to me at the beginning of the year. So I’ll opt for no one who was close to me at the beginning on the year died. That would be more accurate. Unfortunately 2007 was the year friendships were tested and the resolve strengthened or broken. I have taken moments to mourn the loss of those people in my life but also the time to reflect that sometimes the decicision to let go, despite how painful it might be is the correct one.

In my opinion at the time when it mattered I made the effort to mend the broken fences and that it. It’s done and ready to be served.

I’m looking forward to this new year of blogging. I will try to not have a two month absence again but things are different so posts will not be as often as what they were.

But to you my dear reader, I’m back and ready to roll

Happy New Year. Make the best of it. Make it Happen .

I am scared.

Of course I am

People keep asking me if I’m nervous and I keep thinking why are you asking me such a stupid question. It’s a very polite question, one that must be smiled at and politely answered.
“No I’m doing great” because nobody really wants to know if I’m scared or not. No one wants to know if I wake up in the middle of the night with my over active imagination running wild and thinking about all the strange possibilities that are so very unlikely but just might happen. The kind of stuff that you see on ‘The Twilight Zone’ like something going wrong with the anesthetic and I’m trapped unable to move or tell anyone that I’m awake and can feel every single last cut that is made.

I think it’s stupid to ask people if they are okay. What kind of answer do you expect? Do you really expect them to say NO I’m not okay? In fact when you ask, do you really actually even care?

Another thing that annoys me is when people say it’s the cherry on top. Do people realize that the cherry is the most insignificant thing? You eat it and then it’s gone. Other than decoration it’s not really anything. Nobody ever says that they remembered the cherry. You only ever remember the desert. So what’s the point of saying it’s the cherry on top?

I think as a society we should make an effort to stop asking pointless questions. This is the list
Are you okay?
How was the honeymoon?
How’s married life?
Are you scared?
Are you nervous?

Don’t ask questions just to be polite. Rather just
SHUT THE HELL UP

Pre-post

This is a pre-post. That mean it’s a post before a post. Whatever. Has anyone really noticed the pre-everything that we have now that supposedly makes everything easier to do? Pre-cooked, pre-washed, pre-clean, pre-this, that and the other. My favorite is pre post-colonial. I think I like that one best. It’s before and after.

Are we gonna have pre-death as well?

Where you’re dead but not actually?

I’ve been de-cousined … AGAIN.

Indeed it has been a while since my last post and a lot has happened since then. But let me assure you that I’m still here and stronger than ever.

I went to my first all nighters this weekend. My only regret was that I did not have the original party girl to share it with. She said she was tooo tired. Anyway there’s always next time. Turns out that I impressed some people (at least one person anyway) being on the dance floor all night.

I’m told there’s a certain amount of guilt that one feels the next day, I feel nothing. No guilt at all. Au contraire, I can’t wait for the next time.

Anyway getting back to the topic of this post. As I said I’ve been de-cousined. This time without all the humming and ceremonially jargon that marked the first fortunate occasion. This time around I also didn’t get my R2 from the mother of the head of the party. I suppose with inflation it should be R200 now. But I’m older and wise and got a bit more than that in the bank so I’ll waive that aside.

In other news my 26 year inning of not going to hospital has finally come to an end. After two hours of throwing up the non-existent contents of my stomach, I went to the emergency room at the hospital. It’s really not my fault. Where else can you find a doctor at 1 in the morning?

It was only two hours and I don’t think it quite counts. But I was there with a drip in my arm so I guess it will have to do. On the upside even though it was the morning at least I was out in two hours.

That counts. No over night stays in hospital. 26 years and counting.

welcome, welcome

Presenting Toby Joshua Holroyd born at 9:30 19th October 2007.


Clearly one of the highlights of the weekend. The other was without a doubt South Africa winning the Rugby.

The final highlight was finally cleaning out our spare bedroom. It's now all clean and clear and ready for us to make a mess of it again.
I also only have one exam left. Afrikaans. JOY. Once that is over I'll be home free.

So many changes have taken place in the last month and changes are sometimes good things. it's nice to not be bored all the time irrespective of how this might affect posting to my online journal. I suppose this is more for me to remember than for anyone else :)

It's been a good month and I think the year is gonna get alot better. Christmas is just around the corner and I would have had my car for a year. I think I'm forgetting what it feels like to not have my own car. FINALLY.

that's it for now. I'm looking forward to this weekend and to holding Toby for the first time later today. I'm also looking forward to a good night's sleep and a good session at gym.

the first day of the second week

so on the first day of the second week of my new job and I was stuck in traffic for a whole hour. that kinda thing really sucks. I mean really it's the last thing you and of course is the first thing to happen.

everything's going well so far. including my diet but i'm stuck in a time zone. i need to study and guess what?
no really guess

I DON'T WANT TO.

not much of a surprise is it?

I'm weaning myself of facebook. the biggest thing keeping me there is Fighters Club. An application that I am without doubt addicted to.

if this posts seems entirely free of something going wrong or something crazy in the air, it's becasue it is.
There are always things going wrong but I suppse that's life.

Sometimes you're up,
Sometime's you're down,
Sometimes your head is spinning all around.

thank you my darling

In the establishment of any relationship, I do believe it should take a certain amount of time before one finally gives and uses cutesy little names like my darling or sweet heart or baby.

With regards to this there are two types of people in the world. Those that don’t mind being called very popular endearments by strangers they speak to on the phone or people that you just met and then there are the people who do mind. I mind.

There’s a certain sense of fakeness for me in that. How can you call someone you’ve never met darling? I suppose it also cheapens it when people that you are very dear to call you that. So that’s my little gripe today.

Comparatively speaking compared to what I’ve been feeling over the last week, it’s very minor.

So it’s my first week at my new job and I’m loving it. The days have been filled with an array of activity including trying to get the switchboard to work. The last two weeks have been a bit of a topsy turvy. I’ve been looking forward to moving on from MW and at the same time spent a great deal of time wondering if I have what it took to do the job I had been hired to do. I knew that logically I could do it and be really good at it but there was always the doubt at the back of my mind. There has also been a lot of drama going on.

Friends come and go. They disappear from your life for a while and then come back and you pick up from where you left of. Others are always there in the background and you meet once in a while and it’s a constant. The relationship is great and you never put much pressure on each other. Then there are the friends that come into your life for a small season who tend to take everything they can from you and then move onto the next person.

Unfortunately you never know who these people are. Sometimes you get warned and then don’t pay attention to the warnings. You tend to believe in your own strength and loyalty and then hope it rubs off onto that person. After all, how can somebody that you put that much effort into, not have the decency to return it?

When that happens, you’re left wondering how you could be so blind and stupid. Let me say right now. It’s not me.

I made every effort and I am a good friend. I feel no guilt about this relationship falling apart. Actually to be honest, I’m relieved that we no longer can be friends. In fact we stopped being friends once she went back to her trashy boyfriend for what seems like the 50^th time in a sixth month period. Personally I prefer to surround myself with people who value themselves. She really doesn’t so it’s actually a relief to let this go.

The important thing is that I got my shoes back. Keep your casual ‘invites’

To everyone who has been a good friend (and you can judge yourself) THANK YOU. If you’re not you only get out what you put in.

I"M DISGUISTING

This post is quite personal because I’m finally putting the proverbial pen to paper and letting it all go.

 

The cricket is finally over. I can rest at last. It’s been a long two weeks. I am emotionally and physically drained. I think the biggest disappointment over the last two weeks was being told that I’m disgusting. Not all of the facts were obtained, in fact they were not even asked about. Judgement was made and that was the sentence,

 

According to my mother, the women who gave birth to me I’m disgusting and so at the age of 26 I’ve finally given up trying to please my mother. It’s harder that I ever could have ever imagined.

 

Gary Chapman wrote a book called The Five Love Languages. The basic premise of this book is that to show someone you love them, you do it in a way that makes sense to them. My love language is words of affirmation. Tim’s love language is physical touch. Jeremy’s I think is gifts. The long and short of it is that if you to tell me you love and appreciate me, say so in words, give Tim a hug and buy Jeremy something (again I think)

 

Words apparently have the power to speak life and death into people hearts, souls and minds. After mother’s emphatic declaration on Saturday morning, I spent the rest of the weekend in a daze. I felt like I wasn’t really there. All those people depending on me, all those journalists who knew my name and depended on me, did they think I was disgusting to? I felt unreal. Smiling and laughing happily and putting on a brilliant show. All the while wondering if those people also thought I was fake, did they also think I was disgusting?

 

 

So if I seem overtly sensitive, If I seem like I’m trying to hard, if I come across as being entirely unsure of myself and trying to hard to please, it’s because I’m still reeling.  

 

A lot of people may be angered by me putting this on my blog. I don’t really care actually if this offends anyone. Dr Seuss said that the people who mind don’t matter and the people who matter don’t mind. Perhaps it’s not very relevant for this situation but well do I really look like I care?

 

Oh and by the way I’m disgusting because of magazines that I didn’t buy and requesting something that I asked to be returned to me. If there is anything I learnt from this whole episode, it’s that you really can’t trust anybody. There’s no such thing as in-confidence anymore.

 

So a word to the wicked:

Keep all your secrets to your self

 

It turns out for those of you who are unaware that there are perks to being a volunteer. This is one of them. It was very exciting doing this. Yep that’s me next to Mahendra.

It’s been a tiring last two weeks. Emotionally there’s been a lot to deal with. If you saw the last post that was deleted, well I did that because I decided it was something personal.

The tournament is almost over and I’m looking forward to the up coming public holiday and a good session at gym. I’m also looking forward to a decent home cooked meal and a decent solid 8 hours of sleep.
I have to say though despite the late hours and the working of two jobs, I’ve had the time of my life. This is an experience of a life time and I loved it.

Prelim draws here I come.