Blogging - Like a Boss

...but I'm not wearing any pants?!

2012-10-29T19:12:00.000+02:00

Recently (i.e. Sunday), I found myself caught between two choices which, at the time, seemed incredibly important and life-changing. Twenty minutes before this, I had ordered Nandos, and the delivery man had just phoned me to say that he was downstairs. This seems very normal, I'm sure, and usually it would be; except for the fact that I wasn't wearing any pants. I won't go into the reason for this, but shall instead swiftly switch the focus to my dilemma: I could put on pants, go downstairs in agony (we'll get to that) and retrieve the food of the Gods; OR stay upstairs in comfort and warmth, but go hungry - the delivery guy would get the hint eventually. A third option was presented to me today on Facebook - I could have gone downstairs without pants. I do have plans on getting arrested at some point in my life (it's on my bucket list), but I don't want it to be for indecent exposure - I feel like I can aim higher. I feel like that was an unintentional double entendre. Oh well, I won't tell if you don't.

I have found myself in many a similar situation over the years - the dileemma-thing, not the indecent exposure-thing. One such one was just the other day after doing laundry: I could fold my clothes, put them away and languish in a tidy bedroom. But then I started thinking (a dangerous endeavor - don't try this at home, kids), why should I give them the satisfaction? They don't own me!!! In fact, I OWN THEM! Yes, yes I do. And so this is how the clothes-shuffle came about. When I need to sleep, the clothes go on the floor. When I need to walk across the floor, the clothes go on the bed. Except that things got confused and I once slept on a pile of clothes - did you know that it actually incredibly comfortable? Although, I suppose anything would be in comparison to res-provided beds and mattresses...

Oh, and re: the agony mentioned above; I went gone to gym EVERY DAY last week. Impressive, no? My thighs hurt.

Here's the expected video accompaniment to this post!:) This might seem random to everyone except to Jess, Adelle, Karen and a few other peeps from Camp Jaycee - here are our videos from America. I couldn't post them on Facebook because apparently my right to post vids has been blocked due to posting copy-righted material. I don't know why. Must have been the Rebecca Black vid. And the Lonely Island Stuff. And all the other stuff.

Okay, first up - our drunken, personal version of the hit of that summer. Yes, I know it's upside down, but I think the 'drunken' pretty much explains that:

Next is Karen's trauma and Jurjen's method of comfort:

And then we have some dancing:

Aaaaand some presenting of the Grand Canyon by Karen...

Lastly, breaking it down in SanFran:

Enjoy your week kids!

The Depression vacation - Seratonin has never looked so good...

2012-09-29T20:29:00.002+02:00

Why am I depressed? I don't know. And I swear to god, if you ask me if it's my "time of the month", I may just have to retire my moral standing on violence. I'll blame it on the depression.

I do know, however, that sometimes it's hard to know how to react when someone you know has depression. Scenes like that can be illustrated by picturing the expression of the face of a man-beast presented with a crying woman/child. At least, that's always how I imagine it.

It wasn't clear, at first that there was a problem. I can't remember how it started; but I do remember the first time I realised something was wrong. I woke up one day and realised that, through a process of various excuses and good use of procrastination techniques, I had managed to miss an entire week of lectures and tuts. I can't even remember what I did that week.

Depression is a strange beast. The symptoms are so contrary that it can be excused as something else entirely - if you eat too much, or too little; if you sleep more than usual but wake up feeling tired, or suffer from insomnia; feeling fidgety/can't sit still, or else you move at a slower pace than usual.

In my case, it's all the first ones, besides the last - fidgety, I am not. Once you know what the problem is, it is easier to deal with. I was ecstatic at the thought that the wet wool blanket constantly dragging me down wasn't just laziness. That the antisocial preference for the sticking my nose in a book, never to emerge; rather than the family friends over for dinner, wasn't the beginnings of agoraphobia. That I didn't have to worry as much about the conflicting feelings of the enjoyment of doing work for subjects such as Mandarin versus the tendency to mope around hating all the deadlines piling up around me like a cracked dam wall.

There was a huge sense of relief that took all the pressure off - it wasn't just me! This is all Seratonin's fault! Huzzah for antidepressants that made me feel like my organs were rattle-shaped and in the hands of a very enthusiastic baby; but more importantly - that made me feel excited about things towards which I had previously only felt apathy.

There are two things I learnt very quickly, however:

Medication can only do so much
Food can only do so much

I haven't really paid much attention to no. 2 though - I'm pretty sure I should now be a major stockholder in Nandos, Lays, Coca-Cola and any company that is selling chocolate products.

My social life is still a mess. I'm sorting out my university work, although it feels a lot like chasing dropped R200 note flailing around in the wind evading capture. My res room is STILL a mess, complete with unpacked boxes, an unmade bed, unknown amounts of takeaway-container debris, shoes and clothes. I still feel like a failure 5 days out of 7 - and the other two days are kinda hazy so I'm not too sure about those. I still feel the need to sleep until 10 (13:00 is my record). I still eat enough to feed a large, over-populated country. I still fall into slumps where I feel hopeless and resigned. I still cling to ridiculously stupid things that only serve to clutter up my life and my room. I still berate my traitorous body and mind for being so weak - for not fighting harder. I still don't know how to fix all the damage I've done to my life and those in it.

Every now and then, I wake up and the sky is overcast; everyone I meet coming down the stairs is hungover; Jacob Zuma did something dumb and the dininghall has run out of Bovril. Sometimes these are the days when I'll wake up feeling like I just had a vitamin B injected into my butt. These are the days where I do all my assignments in a couple of hours. The days when I wake up at 8am feeling refreshed. The days I love everything about myself. The days when I can sit on my window sill and stare at the view for hours in awe of the sky. Whatever the cause, these are the days that save me.

Because I sound like I swallowed five self-help books, I'm going to end off with a link to someone who expressed her depression in a far more satisfying way:
Hyperbole and a Half - Adventures in depression

A quick note (30/09/2012):
I'm far from being an expert - medical or otherwise - on depression; but I do know what it feels like, obviously. If you or a friend are going through this too, feel free to comment below, I'm really interested to know how others handle it...

The Top 5 WORST things to say to someone with Depression

2012-09-29T20:23:00.002+02:00

5. You know, they have pills for that now...
4. I have a friend with depression so I know exactly how you feel!
3. Stop making excuses
2. You have depression? Just try get over it/Lighten up/Get a grip/Well, everyone gets depressed at some point.
1. What do you have to be depressed about?

Just don't say it.

"Bronchitis is fun" said no one. Ever.

2012-09-12T16:56:00.000+02:00

YEEHAH, I am now nurturing bacteria in my lungs - organs that, due to a lifelong affiliation with asthma, were never too strong to begin with. Now, I'm not normally a pessimistic person (HAH!), but when I'm sick, all I want to do is curl up in my pjs with the furry wall (see image below) and about five tons of junk food. Now, logic dictates that to get better, lots of vitamins and fluids are necessary for, well, stuff. But I'll take a bag of light-green Lays and an order of chicken strips and spicy rice (lemon and herb - yes, I'm a wuss) courtesy of one Nandos, Grahamstown.

So essentially, while my body tries valiantly to cough up my last remaining lung, I attempt to poison it with sweet, sugary goodness. If I'm going to die, it might as well be while munching on a slab of Lindt's Creme Brulee milk chocolate. And one lone naartjie. I love naartjies - they're pretty much one of the only fruits I will deign to allow entry into my sacred temple.

Another reason for why I'm so much more cavalier about all the rubbish I eat is that I've recently acquired a personal trainer. As one does. I was actually worried about what he would be like, but as it turns out, we're quite a good match. He pushes me, but without getting to the point where I wish the treadmill would actually start moving and run him over. Although when he found out that I used to be a sprinter in high school, there was this gleam in his eye that's been there ever since. Considering he's the head coach for the University's track and field section of the athletics club, I'm somehow not surprised. I now know what Hansel felt like when he was snacking on witchy junk food and shoving chicken bones through the bars.

I could write more, but my attention span is slipping rapidly. Just a quick note - I started this post a while ago and so I still have to get to my mom's wedding and other news. Knowing my propensity for lazy posting, I wouldn't hold my breathe. Unless you're an Olympic swimmer or professional breathe-holder. Then go for it

My Obituary

2012-08-10T20:45:00.000+02:00

Okay, so before I just post my obituary all willynilly, I suppose I should explain. Especially seeing as I'm still alive. I hope. Touch wood.

Anyway, for a journalism assignment we had to write an obituary for our partner, and as weird as this may be, I really liked mine. So, without further ado, my obituary dear readers!

Second Year B Journ student at Rhodes University, Kelly, died this week at the age of 21.With her lower lip piercing, genuinely friendly smile and her brown hair, Kelly fit in with the low key lifestyle Grahamstown had to offer.

Muller was born in Pietermaritzburg and grew up in Bedfordview in Johannesburg, where she finished high school at St Andrew’s School for Girls in 2009. She lived with her mother and her soon to be step-father. She was an only child between her parents however she did have two older step brothers and a younger half-sister.

During her time in Grahamstown she was a voice over artist for audio books at the South African Library for the blind. Kelly was studying Journalism and Media Studies, Chinese, Sound Technology and Art History had had plans to major in Chinese and Journalism and Media Studies. She had hoped to further her career through Chinese as a translator or through Journalism and Media studies, a subject she had hoped to specialise in TV or Radio.

Although not much of a member of the partying student culture, the self-proclaimed introvert had preferred to be with her small group of friends at someone’s digs, as opposed to hitting Grahamstown’s various student filled pubs and bars. While she seemed fairly reserved, she did voice her opinions out on what seemed to be a rather entertaining blog called kellywellyjellybelly on blogger.com.

Gone too soon, she had been able to travel all over the world, and had grown comfortable in herself. She surely will be sorely missed by those who knew her.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, my death somehow involved bananas. Bloody bananas, I knew I hated them for a reason...

Beam me up, Captain America

2012-08-10T16:53:00.003+02:00

Chris Evans in tights YET again! Bigger than ever before - what a gift to the big screen. Okay, both of the movies were really good; actually they were BRILLIANT. I watched the Avengers with a friend a couple of weeks ago and it was hilarious. The scene with the Hulk flinging Loki around was great, I got the giggles for ages - I still laugh every time I think about it.

I also watched Captain America the other day, although I probably should have watched them the other way around. I actually got pretty emotional towards the end (SPOILER ALERT) and I even cried when he's flying the plane into the ground; and yet AGAIN at the end. "I had a date." DEAR GOD, I just wailed - it was ridiculous. I'm pretty sure my neighbour thinks I'm a complete freak. Just an FYI, I never cry - except in the Lion King; but honestly,if you don't cry when Mufasa dies? You have no soul.

After the two movies, I was still in Chris-Evans-fever mode and also bored. What does one do when bored? Why one goes onto sites such as Youtube, of course! Well, then I howled for a different reason altogether - in one interview Chris Evans and Hemsworth are waiting for it to start while this woman is giving her little intro speech; and what does she say to get them started?

"Hi, I'm Carly Steel for Epix news and it's a battle of the biceps as Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth reprise their roles as Captain America and Thor in The Avengers. Has there been anything you would like to avenge in your real life?
Evans: I got dumped at my senior prom."

Um, I'm sorry what? Before we get into the fact that whoever broke up with Chris Evans probably regrets that decision just a tad; can we go back that neat little phrase. Battle of the biceps? Really? Please do yourselves a favour and watch the expression on their faces when she says it, Hemsworth literally facepalms:

It was great though, they did a great job in pairing those two together, they're both funny and they have a good dynamic going on. Even when it came out that Hemsworth had been on Australia's Dancing with the Stars (and didn't that just set off the howls of laughter again - my neighbour might not be living next to me anymore), Evans was just like, "Actually that wasn't too bad." Far too nice, that blue satin shirt alone is enough ammo for AT LEAST a good few months.

What a great bunch of people those Avengers actors are; that must have been an awesome film to work on. I'm not just saying that because of the aforementioned biceps either - although those make things quite nice and easy on the eye. I do prefer Chris Evans in Fantastic Four though; the rangier build and short, dark hair suit him better. So basically the looks of Fantastic Four, but still as Captain America. Yes, I KNOW it wouldn't work, but it's MY dream - bugger off. Chris Evans, if by some slim chance you read this, don't hate to much on this glorious author's ridiculous ramblings - you've got the muscle, prepare to be ogled. Ah yes, sexism at its most hypocritical - love it! And on that note, I give you Chris Evans' soft side; one that loves jelly beans and the Goonies. Oh, and did you know he's a Buddhist? Interesting...

I try really hard to be cool. Emphasis on the 'try'

2012-08-06T12:45:00.001+02:00

Okay, so along with the hipster influence virus (yes, I do realise that spells HIV - how naughty of me) going around these days, I'm feeling way too much pressure. Peer pressure - the social STD. All the faux *cough lenseless* ray bans, the expensive, strategically torn jeans and the too large tank tops showing off that little hint of bra. Okay, I'm sounding spiteful, that's just my jealousy talking - all I wanna do is be one of the cool kids.

I'm not fashionable though - at best I'm a copy-cat. I like to think it's because I'm too much of an Everyman. Quick aside: If you don't know to what I'm referring when I say 'Everyman', go get some culture you heathen beast. <---see peer pressure, I just gotcha!

Getting back on track though. I feel like I have to try hard to be cool. And random. It honestly doesn't come naturally - I bet you didn't know that one. Being completely random in an ironic yet funny way is really hard, and I do try, but it's just sooooo much work damnit. The self-deprecating though, now that's a big ball of fun.

See...Even in this blog post, all I've done is be random about being random to get your attention and make you like me. Dear God please like me. You know all I want is your approval. And a couple hundred Facebook likes. And money. Actually, just money - you can just give me lots of money.

I was going to go about the attention-seeking another way though. I used to daydream about being an actress. I even took Drama to Matric. Then I realised how much effort it takes to be a 'Thespian' rather than merely just an uncultured fool in tights on a stage. I got over the effort. Definitely did not get over being the centre (okay FINE, slightly off-off centre) of attention.

I also got over the admin of sticking - and excelling in - one sport or hobby. In my long illustrious life, I have participated in no less than 50. This includes (but is not restricted to) hockey, diving, gymnastics, ballet, tapdancing, kickboxing, athletics, chess (dear GOD I was bad at that) art (now THAT I kick ass at) and many many more.

These days, I just give in and realise that my talents lie elsewhere. Namely watching my flavour-of-the-week series, eat constantly student-style (i.e. lots of fat, carbs and general crap), pick up some uni work, put it down again, and finally after a long internal debate ending in a resounding "Screw it" - order Nandos.

So basically I've just wasted 10 minutes (depending on your reading speed - you should really work on that) of your life that you will NEVER get back telling you that I'm uncool, unmotivated, uncomplicated, undedicated (I just made that a word, shut up) and lazy. Whatta day for revelations. You must be so proud Mom.

Love and peace my oh-so-(sometimes)-faithful peeps.
Comment on this post or die. I've been watching horrors this month so I have new torture techniques!
Okayluvyabyeeeee!

Here's a new vid for ya!

Non-holiday birthday rating - not awesome

2012-04-24T12:10:00.000+02:00

When I was still in school, my birthday was ALWAYS during the holidays. Now that was all well and good, but comforting myself with the fact that, while I was partying with my parents down here on this earthly plane; Shakespeare was celebrating his up with the big man himself, got old.

So I put up with 8 years of this – I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether I finished my entire schooling career in 8 years or else just changed schools – and I was excited for this new period in my life. One where I could know what it was like to wear an A4 piece of paper with a hastily scribbled “It’s my birthday! Give me presents NOW!!” around my neck, and have my class sing to me before cutting into THE most awesome cake of all time.

These illusions were shattered very fast. Last year, I realised that my holiday would once again cover my birthday. I took the consolation prize – my massive Easter egg and bunny collection from that weekend.

This year I was afraid to look at the calendar – could it be? Could the fates have finally deemed me worthy of such a prestigious event as to have my birthday during the term? Yes, yes they could – and would (and should). I was ecstatic! Finally (finally!) I could experience that moment of true amazingness.

So it will disappoint you to know that I woke up, as usual, with bed head and an incurable desire to just skip all lectures and work. It was great to have all my friends around to wish me happy birthday though, and my parents sent me the most enormous bunch of flowers and a hamper filled with goodies.

Disaster struck just as I was getting comfortable in my new role. I went to my Sound Technology lecture after lunch, and even though she has NEVER ASKED THIS BEFORE, our lecturer asked if anyone had a birthday. “That’s me!” I thought! What a chance! What an opportunity! Here is my moment – the moment just like all those others had in class. To have that acknowledgement of your non-achievement – managing to stay alive for 21 years.

Then, god bless him, a friend of mine started to sing! Wonder of all wonders, this can be checked off my list! But then it all went horribly wrong. It was WEIRD. Why were they all singing at me? What do I do with my face? Where do I put my hands? Where do I look? Seriously, I have never heard a rendition of “Happy Birthday” that was so long. So off-key. So creepy.

And the WORK! Dear god, the work. Have I mentioned how many assignments I have every week for Journalism alone? Well, it’s a lot. Then there’s Chinese. Just to clarify, I love Chinese, the language is interesting and the culture is so different from any other I have studied. The aforementioned Journalism assignments crushed my work ethic for Chinese faster than a fat kid could eat a muffin, so I spent yesterday trying to catch up.

I did go to gym last night, but then I ate Maggi 2 Minute noodles with mini cheese grillers, so I think I basically just tried to soak up a lake with a sponge...

Regardless, my birthday was, and still is BOSS, and I invite you all to my partay on Thursday evening.

Oh and to console myself yesterday, I went onto Youtube and found this guy:

Top 10 Things you can take away from the Harry Potter series

2012-03-05T10:47:00.000+02:00

While I was going through my usual study cycle - exhibit A:

- I began to think about Harry Potter and what you can actually learn from it withought looking at each lesson in context.

Therefore I present to you the "Top 10 things you can take away from reading the Harry Potter series" by ~~Kelly Muller~~ Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock:

10. "Revenge is a dish best served cold" evidence - Severus Snape; there's nothing better than torturing the child of your former nemesis after he bullied you incessantly throughout your schooling career.

9. When people tell you to kill someone coz they’re bad – just do it.

8. A sycophantic attitude toward your crush will eventually pay off – see “Ginny Weasley”

7. Getting some action in when you’re supposed to be killing the Lord of darkness and mayhem is near impossible – especially when some sparkly bastard is muscling in on your turf.

6. Slacking off will make you more successful than any degree or diploma – see “Fred and George Weasley”

5. Do not underestimate the pudgy kid in the back who always gets everything wrong. He will kill your humungous pet snake one day.

4. Always get kids to do your dirty work - preferably when they're younger than 17 or so; the earlier you start the better.

3. Pink is a colour for crazy bitches who collect plates depicting frolicking kittens and who will carve words into your skin when you use your common sense.

2. Everything is cooler with magic – without it, all of those role-players out there are just weirdos in dresses and pointy hats running around on brooms waving sticks around.

And the number one thing you can take away from reading the Harry Potter series IIIIIISSSSS:

1. Gingers get the girl, heroes get the ginger. Gingers breed like rabbits. i.e. forget technology – gingers will take over the world someday.

Happy Monday, gooday, 再见, totsiens, adieu, au revoir and hambani kahle.

Today This Girl dies of procrastination

2012-03-03T20:22:00.000+02:00

...symptoms include: repetitive use of the phrase "I'll do it later/just now/tomorrow, etc.; sudden impulses to complete tasks other than the one you're currently worried about that you've been putting off; slight self-hatred and guilt.

What a clichéd way to start a post after I've been gone for so long. I'm sorry. I should have put more effort in. After all, if I'm going to be skipping work to do a post, it might as well be a good one, right? Can't make any promises though - I've realised how useless I am in terms of consistency.

I’m not quite giving myself enough credit though. We’re about 3 weeks into a new year and term and I already feel like I’m keeping up with the workload. It just depends on your definition of ‘keeping up’. See, there are a couple; one is similar to going for a jog - you're pacing yourself and making good time. Another can be compared to all those American movies depicting a character racing frantically after a train, jumping on just before they would faceplant on the gravel. I don’t think that would work anymore though, I’ve become woefully unfit (a mere 1½ months away from my 21^st birthday). Plus those scenarios are completely ridiculous - why are those trains always so old fashioned anyway? I’m pretty sure that trains don’t have balconies on the back anymore these days… But I digress.

I’ve been slaving over a desk in my little bat cave these past couple of weeks which mostly narrows down to me trying to stay abreast of the Chinese situation – a marginally successful endeavour. When it comes to the social scene, however this year is BOSS.

In this case, on the weekends I join up with other people who have been working too hard and everyone just gets smashed. It’s so great. Seeing overworked schmucks getting more drunk than is wise and lunging at each other in misplaced lust (Friars – I’m talking about you, yes) is how I would imagine watching two drunken elephant-giraffe hybrids trying to hook up feels like. But we don’t judge here. Well, not to your face anyway.

To cheer everyone up, I have TWO glorious videos for you all to watch. One is Somebody I used to Know by Gotye:

The next one is the exact same song, but this group is just amaZING! Five people playing on one guitar; need I say more?

Somebody I Used to Know - Walk Off the Earth

By the way, whilst looking for the correct spelling of ‘schmuck’, I came across its definition – ‘the foreskin that is removed from the penis during a circumcision’. I’m not really quite sure how I feel about using that word anymore.

Today This Girl dies of technophobism and grammar nazism

2012-01-16T23:21:00.000+02:00

I fully realise that the title of this post makes little to no sense; but you get to a certain point where you just stop caring about being correct - politically, grammatically or otherwise.

Usually I love messing around with gadgets and whatsits with cool little thingamajoggys that need 20% manual-knowledge and 100% fiddling-til-you-find-out-what-THAT-does-knowledge. Today - not so much. To provide some backstory - when i was on a gap year in 2010, I bought an iPhone4 in America with the money I made working at a summer camp. Despite many people telling me that it wouldn't work when i got back to South Africa due to 'exclusivity rights signed by Apple and AT and T', obviously I bought it anyway. Sometimes, when I got through particularly self-loathing stages in life, I think I may have bought it as a challenge. Tell me I can't use it when I get back? You simply MUST be lying, I will prove you wrong using some of the $1800 painstakingly earned over 9 weeks of my life to buy this wonderful piece of gadgetry! I guess the joke's on me then.

To get back to the point, after two years of attempts to use the phone through methods such as jailbreaking (waaay too complicated for such a so-called 'simple procedure'), Gevy sim (actually worked for a while until I stupidly tried to update my iPhone's software) and finally, the legal way (phoning Apple in America to try ask them to unlock the phone so I can use it here) I have finally admitted defeat and have officially given up.

Long story short, I am now the proud owner of an $800 paperweight.

Today This Girl Dies of So-Called Friends and Pirateerism

2011-04-20T20:55:00.000+02:00

Strap on your peglegs matey, we got ourselves an epidemic on our hands! Yes, another one - and this one is nothing like anything that I've ever seen in my many years of seeing many things. If you just sit around and wait for it - it'll get you. If you try hiding in your room or some other magical wonderful place - it'll find you. If you try running away like Neve Campbell, or any other tragic herione in horror movies that ALWAYS trip on something (it's a completely seamless floor for crying out loud, how could you POSSIBLY trip?!?!?!?!?) it will, inevitibly, catch up to you. ~~Even if you have tiger blood and are bi-winning...~~ Anytime, anywhere - you WHILL be affected. Or infected. My brain has been addled (I know this because I am spouting things like 'addled'), so I can't remember which .

One day you will be sitting at lunch/in your room/in front of a gumball machine. A friend - a lovely, wonderful, beautiful, generous soul - who previously would not touch a fly for fear of damaging it's precious delicate wings - will come aong. This friend will then be bitten by the KILLJOY fiend. Hold your heads and duck for cover comrades, for nothing will stop this rampaging beast once it is set in motion. Try saying you want to miss a lecture/want to watch just ONE MORE EPISODE OF GLEE I SWEAR/I want a gumball, pay me now and then you look around and oh look at that there goes your head rolling down the table/desk/around and round and round and round in the gumballmachinetilyougetreallyreallyreallydizzyandithinkimightjustwanttogobuyaponyandgetoffthisrideahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

Yes, I'm afraid this is a true story. Go look in Genesis. It happened to Adam too. And the Big Man in the sky. They both got bitten. All Eve wanted was to let a little loose eat a little junk food, and then the men come along and BOOM! Banishment and clothes for you! This is a major problem and I just don't understand. Men, you got us into clothes - so why do you always try to get us out of them again? I've come to a conclusion about the whole getting-kicked-out-of-Eden thing and Men? IT WAS ALL YOUR FAULT! HA!!!

Anyway - killjoy bug. See now when this bug bites it turns afformentioned beautiful, generous, loving soul into ahhhiwillkillyouandeatyourfaceoffrighthereandnowmonster!!! otherwise know as The So-Called Friend. These creatures will try to persuade you to go your lectures! They will stop you from watching a whole season of your favourite show until three in the morning!! And, I'm sorry, young children will have to be removed from the premises for fear of internally-combusting just at the thought; they will try to make you go to the LIBRARY and do some WORK!!! Do not give in!!!! Procrastinate as long as possible!!! Or better yet, throw another comrade (preferably one who is even more of a slacker than you) out to the beast. It will distract it while you locate the appropriate authorities in your area, who will promptly assist you in any way posible. This is a serious matter after all.

On another note, Claire has lost her ring. It walked off in a huff about 3 hours ago and has yet to return. She was only trying to tell it that it was lookinga bit tarnished, and it said that how dare she imply that it is anything less than pure-blooded silver, and then Claire said that it was just rehashing old fights. But that just incensed it even more and basically things were said. Next thing you know they were dancing around the ring, sleeves scrunched back, showing each other what's what. Or something like that.

Please do tell if you see it anywhere.

So, onto other marvelous things, my eye has jumped ship. Apparently, it is an early onset of pirateerism and that many shocking symptoms are sure to follow. Next, the leg just FOOMP! pops off below the knee. Not to worry though, a little twig is sure to follow, and soon your wooden leg will be stable, sturdy and ready to use! I asked about the hook, and it's a No-Deal; it's copy-righted. I'm to expect a lump on my shoulder though - the feathers and beak grow in soon after that and then AWWWRKK! You got yurself a parrot thar matey! Here is a wonderfully gruesome picture of my eye for all and sundry to see!

I asked about missing teeth too, but my doctor says that it's just a silly myth an I was so relieved. I mean the rest is alright but missing teeth? I don't think so.

At least with my pegleg I get swagger. Can't be a pirate without swagger.

Today This Girl dies of Friday Poisoning and Boiled Goose

2011-03-25T18:44:00.000+02:00

This is the D-Day stage my friends. University is never going to be as easy as some people make it out to be. And if it is - that's because they're not going to lectures, so they don't know what the load of work is like and SMACK! the exams hit them six-love. That's not to say they won't hit the rest of us for six, but I like to think we have a good chunk of wood strapped to our faces for when they do. Kinda like those kids in the old-school boarding days who put books or something in the sit of their pants so that the caning wouldn't hurt as much.

Gone are the days when lectures hall were full. Or even half full. And the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed keen beans from the beginning of the term scare you with faces straight from Grudge. To steal a phrase - most lovingly used here - shit went down. Although, to be fair, laziness is not the only reason for poor attendance. When you’re learning more from your weekly tutorials than in your lectures – you know something’s not quite right. I understand that we’re all adults now (ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!) and that we’re supposed to be doing a lot of the work ourselves, but if I’m (ok fine, my parents) not paying them to teach me anything – then WHAT ARE THEY GETTING PAID FOR!!! We have a tutorial once a week for each subject, and our tutors are 2^nd, 3rd or 4^th year students, HOW am I learning more than in lectures which occur 4 times more during the week and are ‘taught’ by professionals?

Chinese is the exception though, I can actually have a fully-fledged conversation about the time and the weather. Yay, I can now participate in awkward small talk in Mandarin as well as English!

Rebecca Black. Gave you cold shivers didn’t it.

Well, where to start – the lyrics were indescribable (in a very, very bad way), the casting for the video was atrocious (my word for the weekend – try use it as often as possible), the choreography and general layout of the video was...well there are lots of synonyms for ‘really, really, REALLY bad’ – let’s just apply that to the whole thing shall we. And as for the singing – use auto-tune much? Here’s a snippet of the lyrics – just don’t looks directly at them – eyeballs have been known to shrivel up and fall out.

Kickin’ in the front seat
Sittin’ in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

It’s Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin’ down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin’ forward to the weekend

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’)
We-we-we so excited
We so excited
We gonna have a ball today

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes after...wards
I don’t want this weekend to end

Yes, someone actually sat down to write these lyrics. Obviously they spent all the money on making the video and there was none left to hire a good lyricist.

Lastly - on a happier note – The Lonely Island have released a new single. Some may not be as excited about this though and say they’re as bad as Rebecca Black (BLASPHEMY!!!), but I LOVE them. There are just some things that are hard to express – things that no-one can put into words (mom, close your eyes). Presenting - I Just Had Sex by The Lonely Island:

These guys are legit. They're too legit. They're too legit to quit. Who else has succesfully gotten Jessica Alba, Blake Lively, Akon and John McEnroe all in the same music video? Not to mention singing with celebs such as Justin Timberlake, Natalie Portman, T-Pain, Adam Levine, Rihanna, Seth Rogan, Will Farrell and many more... Click on the following magical highlighted words to watch more: The Creep with Nicki Minaj and Boombox with Julian Casablancas, frontman of The Strokes. Now that's what I call winning.

Today This Girl Dies of a Stubbed Toe

2011-03-15T22:15:00.000+02:00

The heading is pretty much self-explanatory...Well, it actually happened on Sunday, but you get the gist. The scene of the crime was my res room, and I was having a particularly messy weekend. Now I do want to iterate that so far I've been really good - I do my laundry once a week, I've been fairly consistent with dish washing, I vacuum every now and then, make my bed and make sure my work area's really tidy. Then this weekend struck and it was hell-in-a-handbasket personified. I had just done a load of laundry and, instead of folding it and putting it away, I dumped it near enough to my door that I had to step on the pile to get out the door. Either that or do a cool little maneuver to swing my way over. Yes, I know - don't look at me in that tone of voice - just plain idiot-tactics right there. To give myself a little leeway, it was 11pm and I was tired, I'd do it the next morning.

Next morning woke me up with the usual (see Today This Girl dies of boredom - opening sentence) and I tumbled towards the door to the bathroom. Coming back into my room, I opened the door, swung my left foot over the pile of clothes, swiped some away with my right foot when the door wouldn't close, and then promptly forgot that my right foot existed. That had to be it, I can't think of any other reason why I would have left my foot in the path of an oncoming door. The oncoming door corner. Right at the fourth toe of my right foot, it was like slow motion - faint screaming in my head, one of those Hollywood-tastic 'Nooooooooooooo!'s and then a rebound as the door hits the victim. Who knew something so small could contain so much pain.

Broken (at least in spirit, if not the actual bones) toes aside, how was your weekend? Mine was pretty surreal - Claire and I went out on Friday to a digs house-warming party. It was interesting to say the least. People drifted in and out of groups, dubbstepped in the little garage, waved around to some alternative in the massive lounge and drank some punch. Philip - a mutual friend of ours - was also floated to and fro; he actually came with us to the party in the boot of the car that took us there. Not an open boot, an actual closed off one. Ahh the joys of youthful weirdness. We all migrated to our local favourite eventually and from their things just went in a lazy spiral... Claire and I somehow attracted multitudes of people just wanting to talk to us that night. We felt quite popular, although one guy did go through his life story quite thouroughly...

Saturday was kareoke night at our res - full of ♪♫♪I've...had...the time of my liiife♪♫♪, it was AMAZING. Yes, I am one of those who need to be dragged away by the end of the night, NEVER a bad thing. Then we went to our local again, for ONE drink. We ended up staying til 1:30am after trying vainly to wait for some good musci to magically appear - that said, we still managed to work up quite a jam by the end of the night...

To end things off, I'm sending lots of good karma and luck to Japan for all the multitudes of reasons for which they need it - despite being rather self-absorbed, I do try to keep them in my thoughts at least once a day. Anyone notice the periods of time between natural disasters getting exponentially shorter? I'm just saying...

Today This Girl dies of Tiger Blood #charliesheen Overdose

2011-03-08T13:56:00.000+02:00

bfawefbarkvg aerghaeja aerghaoe;rg. That was my first thought upon watching this video. Even when I was eventually able to gather up the little pieces of my wits, I couldn't decide whether to think Charlie Sheen is a complete neanderthal - or an absolute genius. But Charlie Sheen doesn't care about what I think, apparently. But isn't that what everyone's aiming for? Not the drugs and prostitutes (you could argue on that point, but that's not where I'm going for this one) - but the complete apathetic attitude. I, being a hopeless people-pleaser, would LOVE to have the I Just Don't Care What You Think attitude. I wouldn't want to be absolutely drenched in it though. What an asshole.

I could give you all the facts about when he was arrested, why, what he was doing with all the drugs and pornstars, but really, all the newspapers and gossip rags have been running that one to death. I'm more interested in the whole conversation in this video. You can tell, as soon as the first word leaves her mouth that the reporter, Andrea Canning has her verdict signed, sealed, delivered and although I really don't agree with the casualness with which Charlie Sheen talks about drugs, it's pretty amusing to watch him knock her for six with every question he answered. Especially when he asked her what bipolar even means and you realise that she actually didn't know what it is. She did regroup and give a semi-correct answer, but it shows how people these days latch onto a 'catch-word' and throw it around without thinking about what it actually means...

I then decided to watch a few more videos, and I now stand corrected - the video above is a highly edited version of a much longer interview and the interviewer seems to be making a concentrated effort to understand what Charlie Sheen is going through, but it soon becomes apparent that he would try the patience of a whole host of saints and you have to admire te good humour of Andrea Canning as she even laughs at one of his many innappropriate jokes (I couldn't help it, I laughed at them all).

Charlie Sheen is definitely of a different breed altogether and despite (in spite of? because of?) all the outragous comments, weird behaviour and jarring straightford baldness I'm completely fascinated by this man. Maybe all the bull that surrounds a majority of the public figures today makes it easier for everyone to revel in refreshing honesty even while feeling a vague sense of outrage and offense - and explains why Charlie Sheen managed to obtain an astounding 1 000 000 000 followers in a mere 24 hours - the fastest in Twitter history. Whatever the reason for the fascination that follows Charlie Sheen, it's obvious that 'tiger blood' and 'winning' are going to be around for a while.

Some 'winnng' quotes from the video:

In response to people thinking he's bipolar:
"Wow, then what's the cure - medicine? Make me just like them? Not gnna happen.

"How do you survive that?"
"Because I'm me...I got tiger bood"

When asked f he's afraid he's going to overdose/die:
"Dying's for fools."

"Are you worried you're going to relapse?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not going to - period, the end."
"But how do you know?"
"I blinked and I cured my brain...Can't is the cancer of happen"

"The Nike slogan doesn't say 'Just try it'...Just do it man"

Next Big Brand: Bi-winning tiger blood - the food of champions.

2011-03-08T11:34:00.003+02:00

Today This Girl dies Hurtling Through the Past

2011-03-06T22:27:00.000+02:00

On Thursday afternoon we were given a Journalism assignment - a personal narrative of 500-700 words about a defining moment in your life. Now, I culd talking about myself all day, and I do - regularly. This task, however, required more than just talking about who my favourite Jonas brother is (which I'm taking to my grave). Defining moments don't just pop by every day, sometimes you have to think about it a bit, others knew as soon as they heard the topic. One of the girls in my res, Abbey, wanted to write about her brother, but found it to be too painful. If you're curious by what I mean about that last one, well, you'll have to ask her yourself - it's not my story to tell, and I wouldn't do it justice anyway.

So, here's mine, Claire says it's pretty good and although I know I could have written it a little better I'm posting it up here for keepsakes, enjoy! :)

Nothing Special

I don’t want to do this. I really REALLY don’t want to do this. Change the double nappies of a 35 year old, non-verbal, Richard Harris; grab my shower gel from sticky-fingered Chris Salierno; calm another one wearing a hole in the floor on the other side of the cabin – ‘No Charlie, they weren’t shouting at you’; reassuring John that yes, I will be watching you at the talent show tonight; switch Richard Blasco’s shoes around; help Josh pull his pants up; fetch Charlie as he wanders outside; eye a suspiciously gleeful Chris S; thank Cliff for the hug, struggle to get out of it; promise John that he can listen to his Hannah Montana CDs later; No Richard C, you can’t have ‘cawfee’ right this very second, we’ll get you some at breakfast; dodge Cliff’s hug/headlock; rescue my shower gel yet again as it’s cornered by Chris S and herd them all off to breakfast. That takes care of 15 minutes in the 20 hour day-shift. I really, really REALLY don’t want to do this. That was my mantra, and I was sticking to it.

We worked 20 hours a day, 6 days a week constantly supervising, changing nappies, feeding, toileting, showering and coaxing campers to daily activities. We were running on sugar, Gatorade and pure adrenaline. Every night we’d have 3 hours off from 9-12, and so every night found all the counsellors face-planted on the various couches in the staff cabin or playing pool. The highlight, though, was everyone huddled around the TV and trading war-stories of the day; because even if I had woken up to see Natalie standing on her bed, all the sheets completely stripped and thrown off the edge, brown smeared all over her hands, face, legs and bed waiting to be cleaned up by yours truly – there was always someone with a story worse than mine.

Third session was when I first worked with men that summer and even while I was screaming inside as I tried to maintain a calm, soothing front; for the first time in 4 weeks I was loving every second of it. Richard C repeatedly asked for ‘cawfee’ all day long, Josh listened to Harry Potter audio tapes while walking around the cabin and waving his hands around, John blasted ‘I lay my Love on You’ and ‘Best of Both Worlds’ until we begged him to stop and Cliff was 6 foot tall with no front teeth and loved giving hugs with alarming regularity and strength. Then there was Chris Salierno, the exception to every rule. The easiest way to describe him is to imagine what people would be like if we gave in to every impulse we ever had. If Chris Salierno wants to shave his eyebrows off, that’s what he’ll do. If Chris Salierno wants to be Camp Director, well then we make business cards and he becomes ‘my boss’.

For Chris Salierno, nothing is impossible.

Doing something you were set against from the start has fairly obvious issues, and while many of us dreamt of jumping ship and running home to mommy, being in a whole other country made it rather difficult. That and the fact that quitting is never easy, especially when there is an expectation that you will. So I stayed at the special needs camp in Effort, Pennsylvania for 9 weeks being continually driven to the brink of madness and back again. It was exhausting, but our motley group of about 60 people from various countries all trudged through the carnage that was summer camp.

It was a rather fun experience.

Today This Girl dies getting Lost in Translation

2011-02-26T15:11:00.001+02:00

What is wrong with people and communicating these days? No-one talks anymore, it's all BBM and Facebook and Twitter and mxit and emails (although Twitter's saving grace is its 140 character limit); even just the thought of talking to someone over the phone brings me out in a cold sweat. Sometimes, just to make an appointment I have to sit for 10 minutes beforehand just to figure out what I'm going to say just so I don't sound like a total dumbass. Even when people talk on Facebook, most of the time it's limited to the, 'Howdy Partner! How'd you like to be neighbours? Come and join me in Farmville where you can grow delicious fruits and vegetables on your very own farm!' notification, and apart from the disgustingly chipper tone that sounds nothing like how your friend would normally speak and awfully a lot like a cult recruiting agency, there's just something not quite right about spending 5 hours planting virtual corn to make non-existent money. And can someone please enlighten me as to what is so appealing about being buzzed every 5 seconds on BBM just so someone you hardly ever talk to can say 'Hi! <insert weird yellow smiley face with tongue sticking out>'? Blackberry's are overrated, I want my IPhone back.

Well, that concludes my rant of the day, bought to you by FMyLife... Thank you for being such a good audience. Oh wait, there's more (of me talking – not more ranting):

On another, happier note, Thursday marked the signing up of societies at my university – my intention was to join one besides the Chinese society (to which Chinese students are automatically registered) and I went there with a happy (slightly bored) heart. I'm now the proud participant of 5 societies. The sports sign-up is on Saturday, I may need to be restrained. Honestly though, some of these societies had CUPCAKES!!! I ask you, how can anyone resist a good cupcake – the one they gave me for signing up to the Anime Society even had my very own pink little 'K' smooshed onto a slightly disturbing blue iced topping – but that's just the magic of cupcakes. My friend Claire actually got a plant. No, not the plastic showy ones that people put in their offices to look 'pro-Earth-chic', an actual little plant – with weird stubby little leaves – I can't remember what it's called though, I'll have to ask later. As we've introduced a new character into this fascinating little story, I'll pause for a moment to do a little character profile... Claire came into our res a little later than the rest of us, and you know how that goes a lot of the time – people (especially girls) tend to be pack animals, once they've found their allies there's no going back and that's pretty much what happened. It was almost as if we all had the mentality that because it felt as if we'd all known each for years, Claire was suddenly 'the new girl', even me I'm a little ashamed to say. I remember the one day in the common room when we were practicing our serenades (a story for another time), looking at her as she came a kinda lost look on her face and thinking – I know how that feels – and it was really intense because I really do. That feeling of missing something completely for the simple reason that you came in at the wrong time. Even then though, I still didn't go up to her – really bad, I know, but we eventually got talking and I'm really glad we did because before that I'd been feeling a little lost myself.
Enough of the maudlin now, I have no money til next month... That's still maudlin you say? Not really, I have accommodation and food every day, and as for alcohol – well judging from last night's escapade, I don't have to worry about that for quite some time. Turns out a Zappa shot can go a long way. Ni yào kāfēi ma? Your Chinese sentence of the day and a partial study for as I have a Chinese dictation on Monday, wish me luck! As it is, life's pretty good so far, and because I'm feeling so generous, here's an extra-long Easy A quote to make up for todays somewhat boring postJ
Olive Penderghast: If he's so smart, why is your boyfriend 22 years old and still in high school?
Marianne: Because, Olive, it's His choice!
Olive Penderghast: Oh, really? His choice? He just *wants* to be repeating his senior year for, like, the fourth time 'cause he can't pass a single test?
Marianne: No, silly,
[points up]
Marianne: His. His, with a capital H. If the Good Lord had wanted Micah to graduate, he would have given him the right answers.

Today This Girl Dies of Boredom

2011-02-19T19:58:00.000+02:00

So yesterday woke me up at 7:00am with a grunt, a snore (charming, I know) and the charming tones of BBGrooves - Interlude, a tune to which Blackberry assumes people want to wake up. That aside, I stumbled to my feet and was somehow dressed, ready and out the door by 7:30am for my Chinese lecture at 7:45. 7:40am found me outside the door of the Geog10 classroom staring blankly at it's apparent emptiness. Chinese was at 9:35am. Computer Science was at 7:45.

It was one of those mornings.

The carnage even had the nerve to continue throughout the day - my comp sci lecturer thinks he's the coolest thing since sliced bread, I nearly fell down the stairs and the University carnival that night was a complete flop - if not for anyone else, then just me I guess... It was alright though, I had a bit of a zombie-zone-out thing going on all day, so it was all just vaguely amusing tinged with the sense that I was missing something. I did get to watch Easy A again though with one of the girls in my res, Claire, and it was as awesome as ever.:)

So aside from all my foolishness of yesterday, I'm fine, how are you? Or should I say, 'Wo hen hao Ni ne?' Chinese is probably on of the coolest things ever, despite the fact that to say some of the words in the necessary tones, some seriously weird facial expressions are required...

For all those wondering by now why I'm actually writing this blog in the first place - I'm not a celebrity (*gasp*or am I?) - the answer is predictably simple (I'm not generally a very deep person) - I have to. For Journalism 1, at some point, we have to do something like blogging, or so I'm told. So I am gracing you all with my writing presence just to get the hang of the whole thing, not being a big writer in the first place. ~~And I just like writing about myself.~~ That's the only reason really... And I could write about the multitudes of celebrities that have no effect on my life whatsoever (alright fine, maybe they do, just a little), a year-long project that I'll never finish or a subject that I know absolutely nothing about, but have an opinion on anyway but ~~I like talking about myself so~~ that's all been done to death anyway...

Enough about me though, how are you? Did you watch <Insert generic-popular-series-of-the moment here> last night? Please, do feel free to comment in the box below, I know now what all those blog writers are going through when they keep asking for comments, it feels a bit weird to just be randomly writing stuff and sending it off into the great World Wide Web...

I'll leave you with another quote today, this one again from Easy A:

"We've had nine classes together since Kindergarten... ten if you count Religion of Other Cultures, which you didn't because you called it science fiction and refused to go. "

Today This Girl dies from over-analysation

2011-02-17T17:02:00.000+02:00

I've always found that starting something is one of the hardest things in the world (the many years that have seen me procrastinating right up until the last minute can attest to that) so you must understand that this first post is quite the achievement. Especially after all the niggling over the small details of the blog layout, colours, etc,etc,etc... Really unnecessary considering I'm supposed to be working.

So, getting down to business, this fantastic little blog exists for the sole purpose of chronicling the life and many indecisions of your truly. Who is 'yours truly'? I'm glad you asked, I've been dying to talk about me all along. Well, for starters there's a neat little fast run-through-answer of that very question at the top of this page; as for more, I'll start with the usual - my name is Kelly, yes I have Facebook, yes I have Twitter, yes I have BBM. Funny how those last three affirmations are all you really need to know - in fact you don't even need to carry on reading, you can just find out the rest of my name and proceed with the Facebook-stalking; which is why I shall henceforth forever be known as just - Kelly; unless my mother is reading this, in which case it doesn't matter coz she Face-stalks me anyway. Even though the single name, considering the success of Beyonce/Adele/Madonna/Rihanna, is actually a good thing, I'll probably end up giving the game away at some point. On the right is my Twitter feed, you're welcome to stalk me there along with all the other strange characters declaring themselves to be 'young, hot and ready for action', and because I have a little techno geek bounding around in my brain, there'll also be a few gadgets hanging around the page - Youtube videos, etc; and I'm definitely not giving out my BBM pin, that's just inviting disaster...

As for the rest of the basics, I could be an 80 year gap-toothed man with a good-sized paunch going on and you wouldn't know the difference if I told you otherwise, but I'll tell you that I'm an almost-twenty-something student doing a Bachelor of Journalism at a certain University in sunny South Africa anyway.

So, if I've managed to keep you mildly entertained for this long, then that can be my major achievement of the day (sad considering I had a long to-do list of important university related stuff) and I can sign off with a little quote from the movie I'm currently hooked on, and which fits the current weather and mood in general of my little sphere of consciousness because 'I've gotta pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine; I've got a love and it's all mine, oh, uwooo...'.

Yes I did just quote Natasha Beddingfield, but it's from Easy A so that makes it okay - feel free to sing long.