Reisie's Pieces

For Grumpy

2009-09-29T11:05:00.005+02:00

Around 5pm on Saturday 19th September 2009, the world became a poorer place. My world crashed, shrivelled, and changed forever. Our beloved Grumpy, Harry Anthony Kobrin (Tzvi ben Shalom) died in Cape Town.

We have been blessed with so many wonderful memories of times that we have shared with you. My earliest memories are of you taking Dee & I down to the beach in Camps Bay, laughing with us as we tried to keep the sand off our granadilla ice lollies.

Your tanned brown skin, your beach chair, and the fire in your eyes.

Your distinctive smell of Badedas and Aramis 900.

Years later, when I would return to Cape Town as an adult, I remember watching you and Wayne picking strawberries in Stellenbosch and recognizing that this moment was precious and indescribable and would be treasured forever.

I am so grateful that you got to meet the man I share my life with, and that you loved him as much as you loved me.

I will never forget the weekend that we shared together last month, and will always cherish our time together watching the rugby, drinking wine and beer, and shouting for Bakkies!

Thank you for the wonderful week that you spent in our home in June. It was an honour and a privilege to have you that close to us for that time.

I love that you took the chance, opened your heart, and took the time to build the relationship that we had after suffering so many disappointments from your family.

Selfishly, I love that you recognized me as your favourite!

I love how your face would light up when we saw you and how grateful you were when we came down to visit you.

I love how when we had our weekly conversations you would refer to me as your beloved granddaughter, and tell me to 'Keep Getting There!'.

I loved listening to your stories (many of them more than once!) about your childhood in Vrede, your experience in the war, your life on the road with your soul mate, your family.

I admire that you died on your own terms, in your own time, in your palace, with your Queen.

I revered your quiet wisdom, and will always hold you in the highest regard.

You were a King amongst mere men, Grumps...

Grumpy - Sunday's will never be the same. I will miss beating you to our weekly phone-call, your words of encouragement, and your love. I hope that wherever it is that you find yourself now has an abundance of fine Villiera wines, a fantastic rugby team, and magnificent sunsets for you to watch.

We miss you so much, and have been so blessed to have shared your life.
Thank you sounds hollow and insufficient when trying to acknowledge all that we feel for all that you have done and all that you have shared with us. So instead, I say "Namaste, Grumpy" ... I greet that place where you and I are one, and I honor the place in you which is of love, of truth, of light and of peace.

As You Get Married

2009-05-05T08:01:00.000+02:00

To our darling Boy:
I remember you as you were. Now I see you as you are. A beautiful, kind, generous, and thoughtful individual. Strong and caring. Frustrated by injustice, you have always fought for what you believed was right. Zealous in nature, yet caring and compassionate.
We are so proud that you have chosen someone whom you trust enough to spend the rest of your life with. That reason alone would be enough to get us to love her.

As you approach your wedding, a few words of encouragement for you from us:
Do not expect perfection, and you will not be surprised. All good things take time and work, but with these on your side you can achieve your version of perfection.
Ignore other peoples’ judgement. Rather follow your heart, for it will never betray you. Appreciate your wife for all that she is and all that she isn’t – she is the partner that you have chosen to live your dream and build your future with. Do not vent frustration at her that deserves to be vented elsewhere. Listen when she talks, because you never know when what she is saying may be important to her. Give her the space and freedom to develop as a person, and as a wife. Expect to make mistakes. Forgive yourself when you do. Hold tightly to your beliefs, because they will guide you through more than you can imagine. Learn to say sorry. Learn to fight properly – do not be hurtful. Remember to discuss the problem or the situation, and not attack the person that you love.
Above all, have fun. Marriage is a beautiful adventure, filled with joy and giggles.

To the newest member of the family:
We are so excited to finally be able to have you as an official member of our family! We believe that you will make an awesome wife, and one day, a beautiful mother. As you enter into this new phase of your relationship, remember to be kind to each other, and understand that your new role may make you uncomfortable and times. Be gentle with yourself, as all the best things in life take time. Enjoy making your new home. Cook – it can really be a labour of love, even if you burn a few pots and pans along the way. Remember to maintain your beautiful sense of humour in your marriage; there are very few situations that you won’t be able to look back on one day and laugh at. Be affectionate with each other. There is nothing like a warm hug or snuggle to lift the spirits. Be considerate towards each other. Work together as a team, and you will be amazed at what you can achieve together. Do not compare your marriage to others. All of them are unique, and only the two of you will know what will make it work for you. Remember that the best of all material things will do nothing to salvage a bad marriage. Don’t get into a knot about being a perfect wife, as they don’t exist in reality. Be yourself, the same woman he fell in love with, and all the rest will fall in to place.
And yes, above all, have fun! Marriage is a beautiful adventure, filled with joy and giggles.

The Year In A (Pea)nutshell

2009-03-12T13:15:00.000+02:00

I’m not really a big New Year’s Eve person. For many years now, it has only represented a calendar shift for me. I don’t celebrate it, I don’t dread it, I don’t plan anything for it (other than an early night), I don’t use it as a marker date to start something new or make resolutions, and I don’t use it as an opportunity to reflect on the year that has past.

The time around my birthday however, is a different story. I tend to get a bit introspective and delve into the shadows of the past 12 months. It means that I have successfully drawn breath for another 365 days. As of this weekend, I will officially be closer to 40 than 30, so here goes:

It’s been another blessed and interesting year.

This time last year I was bored out of my skull and completely underutilised as a PM at a bank. It paid the bills, but I was unfulfilled and it felt like thievery – I was literally being paid to do nothing but show up. 8 hours can be an extremely long day. I used to think that this would be my dream job, but I was wrong. By March I had begun my job hunt in earnest and was growing weary and more exasperated with every agent I met and every CV I sent out. The place that I was working was going through a restructure, and communicated that they would not be renewing any contracts. Mine expired in July, so the pressure was on. I fluctuated between really excited when I got good feedback from interviews and was invited to a second, to really frustrated by how long the process was taking. Nothing makes me more insecure than the possibility of financial drama, so this wasn’t a particularly good time for me. To add insult to injury, my guru friend who I would usually turn to in this type of situation left the country. My monthly sushi and sauvignon play-date set off for greener pastures with his beautiful family. I miss him.

March also saw us taking a long weekend down in the fairest Cape. Beautiful memories of time spent with my Grumpy, gorgeous sunsets, wine, food, love, and family bonds.

By the end of March, we had been in our ‘new’ home for 5 months. We are still giddily happy there, and love spending time at home either by ourselves or with others. With the glum outlook on the workfront, my inner drama queen panicked and decided that we couldn’t afford to keep it. I’m eternally grateful that a buyer didn’t materialise.

April saw two job offers materialise. Yippee! I declined them both. One would have required me to be US based for a third of my time, and the other just seemed way too much like hard work in a grey, dull suit and tie bank in the CBD. I was also named in the credits of a book as a source of inspiration! My ego is still recovering.

In May I started a photography course part-time. Fun. Although I don’t remember or make use of much that I learned there, it was great to go on a course because I wanted to learn something and not to get a certificate at the end.

June was an emotional rollercoaster, and the pressure was on. Between January and June, I had been on about 30 interviews to agents and companies, sent my CV out hundreds of times, and was still facing unemployment. I was crumbling quietly. In situations like this, I withdraw, snap, panic, cave, capitulate, dramatise, and do not allow support, because I am unable to articulate what I need. Talk to me … leave me alone. Hug me … don’t touch me. Mention one trite phrase like ‘It’s all going to be ok” and I am likely to either snap your head off or collapse into a heap of tears. Needless to say, my husband also had a miserable month. Then a brilliant job offer materialised. 3 km’s from home, prestigious company, great potential, great money, and it was a new position doing something that I suspect I could have done well and added much value. I was over the moon. It happened so quickly! I went in for an interview at 8, was back in my car at 8:30, and had the written offer in my mail the next day. We went out celebrating in style. Then a few days later the offer was sheepishly retracted due to the fact that as a permanent employee I would skew their equity statistics. I was just too white. I was devastated. I was desperate. My contract was expiring soon, and I felt like I just couldn’t dig deep and find the strength to face another interview and answer the same dumb questions. I got off the phone from the agent who had the horrible job of telling me that the offer was retracted, cried, and went to my room. Lying there contemplating my future, feeling exceptionally sorry for myself and very alone, I got a call from the HR department of a company that I had interviewed with twice – a real outside chance, miles from home, in an industry that I have no experience in. They were making me an offer. I signed the offer the following week, and started working for them on a contract basis at the end of July.

July passed in a blur. I am a creature of habit, so I find any change traumatic. My thoughts were consumed with the idea of starting a new job. Needless to say I survived, and despite myself have even managed to somewhat enjoy it.

August was filled with love. We celebrated our first anniversary on the 11th. I am so grateful and constantly awed by the wonderful person who tolerates all of me every day. Friends of ours also had reason to celebrate with babies being born and house moves. Another long time friend and her family left the country for the land down-under.

September was heartbreaking. My favourite friend left to pursue his dreams in Canada, with his partner and dogs following suit in early October. It still feels like I have had a limb amputated, but I have accepted that this is where they are meant to be for now.

October and November whizzed past in a haze of year end functions, work, social arrangements, wine, work pressures and heat. December brought with it welcome relief and a much needed holiday in a beautiful, serene location. We also got the good news that my cousin and his girlfriend had finally gotten engaged.

We plodded through January getting back in to the swing of things after our relaxing break, battling to get back into the daily grind routine and making empty promises to start buying Lotto tickets.

February brought news of a tragic loss to a close friend. My heart still breaks for him. Machines kicked in, things were done, but the pain continues. The sudden death of a young woman made apparent to me just how unprepared we were in the event of one of our deaths. We have since gone through the somber and expensive business of getting wills drawn up, taking out life insurance, and updating our affairs. Nobody likes to contemplate their own mortality.

Looking back at the year past, I am overwhelmed with gratitude at the beautiful, amazing people that I have in my life and the love that I am surrounded by. Although I don’t consider myself a particularly high maintenance person, I know that I am no easy cookie either. I have so much. I am constantly amazed by the outstanding man that I share my life with, I have exceptional friends who get what I am about, two step-children who are a source of love and beauty, a brilliant job, and more than I could ever ask for.

If the year ahead is as filled with joy and abundance as the one that I have just been through, then I remain the most blessed nut on the planet.

Happy birthday to me!

Eating Our Way Through Jozi

2009-03-12T13:12:00.001+02:00

Mythos/Parea: Mythical greek food. We tend to swap between the two, preferring one over the other for a few weeks. Mythos for garlicky, smooth, skortalia and greek savory pastries, Parea for the best calamari and lamb chops in town.

Portuga: For old style Mozambique prawns in beer sauce, and mussels in cream garlic sauce.

Bottega: For the best breakfast and brunches, proper rye toast and perfect poached eggs.

Rainbow Sushi: The best sushi, and the beef with ginger and spring onion. Cheap hole in the wall, always busy, never disappointing.

The Local Grill: Best steaks in JHB at the moment. We used to go to the Grillhouse, but have had some of the best steaks and shoestring fries with polenta crusted onion rings ever there, so keep going back.

Espresso: Cubed Fillet peri peri with shoe string fries. Bucket of fries and halloumi with blue cheese sauce and peri peri sauce on the side. Strawberry Daquiri and Lynchberg Lemonade. Need I say more?

Doppio Zero: Probably our most frequented place this year. Awesome soup with fresh Italian bread, surprisingly unbelievable steaks, great salads, and an extensive menu to choose from.

Giovanni Pane Vito: Excellent pasta, served in a huge pan, enough for 2 (if ever I was going to share).

Bukhara: Authentic Indian food. Expensive and not always consistent, but we have not managed to find a consistently good Thai or Indian place that we can call home.

JB’s Corner: The staple fall back place for burgers and salads.

Why I Love Sundays With You

2009-02-10T13:38:00.003+02:00

I invited you on a date. Formalised the request in a text message. You accepted, and we were all set.
A lazy Sunday morning, then the slow process of getting ready for the brunch date. Fruity smelling shower gels, toes painted in Ruby Red. Freshly buffed skin and aftershave.
On our way...

Arrive at the hotel. Piano being tickled lightly in the background, some tune that I vaguely recognise. We take a table outside under the trees, the sun shining mildly after three weeks of rain. We are the only ones outside. The place to ourselves.

Fresh bread and creamy French cheeses.
We make small talk and smile politely at the waiter.

Marinated sweet and tangy shrimp salad, mussels dressed in chili and sweet peppers.
We discuss how we met.

Smoked salmon and sharp capers, bright and rosy on a stark white plate.
A fruity bottle of wine, crisp and sweet on the tongue.
Giggles and smiles as we reminisce.
The waiter fades into the background.

Juicy dusted kingklip, comforting pea mash, sweet roasted root vegetables.
We discuss our fears, provide reassurance, make plans for a future that seems so certain.
Reflect on how grateful we are for what we have and where we are.

The wine bottle is drained, tuned upside-down in its bucket of melting ice.
You know me so well. You know that dessert is just a gluttony that there is no space for.
You laugh and predict that I will be asleep within the hour. I smile dreamily.

We settle up and leave. Drive home through the warm lunchtime sun.
At home, I drift into a welcoming layer of sleep before the DVD has even started. The type of sleep that has been escaping me for a few weeks.

You are a perfect date. I really like you.
Let's do it again real soon...

An Elephant On My Chest

2008-12-09T09:53:00.002+02:00

The anticipation of death is a strange thing.

I don't know if anyone can ever prepare themselves for the death of a loved one. Even if you know that the inevitable will happen, as it will with all of us, I don't think that there is anything that you can do to make it any more bearable.

For the past few months there has been a slight nagging at the back of my mind after every time I spoke to you. You have stopped walking in the mornings, a ritual that you have taken part in for the past forever number of years, come rain, hail, sleet or snow (but not when the South Easter is blowing). You haven't seemed able to shake the last of the winter chills, and boy, you guys have had a long and nasty winter. You tell me how the rain and the cold feels like it has been biting into your bones, and how you cannot wait for the summer. Even now that it is blisteringly hot, the cough that you have suffered with hasn't left you completely.

You are the antithesis of drama. Stubborn, yes. Pedantic, most definitely. Dramatic, decidedly not. When your wife nagged you enough, you went to see the doctor. He wanted you to go straight to a specialist, but you were off a few days later on your annual summer vacation, and you definitely weren't going to have anything upsetting that plan! You enjoyed yourself, but again when I spoke to you, you were saying how this would be your last year and that you were getting too old for the five hour drive down there.

Finally, you went to see the cardiologist yesterday. Not the news we had hoped for.

I need you to fight this out. I am just so not ready for this.
I feel like the slight gnawing I have felt over the past few months has taken over and become an elephant sitting on my chest. Each time I start entertaining the possibilities and what the next few months may hold I feel like the elephant gets heavier, and starts tucking into a Big Mac just to torment me.

I cannot go there yet. I am not sure if I ever can. Yet I know I will have to, sooner or later. I need you to make it later. I know that this is not about me alone. There are so many different relationships held in our family. Some tenuous, some strained, some unconditionally loving. I know that losing you would rip huge, gaping holes in the fabric of our lives, and I worry for all of us.

More than anything, and against all odds, I want you to be well and healthy.
I want this elephant on my chest to go away, and to get up, put my blinkers back on, and pretend that the inevitable is not just that.

And I miss you

2008-11-28T09:19:00.002+02:00

I can't seem to shake the feeling that something is missing. It's a low-grade buzz that every now and again grabs me by the throat and reminds me that you aren't here any more. It's amazing how we become so reliant on having a person around, even if they aren't in close proximity to us all the time. It becomes a knowing. Knowing that you are there. Knowing that when the storm hits that you will come to me. Knowing that your words will not always be gentle, but they will always be what I need exactly when I need them.

You have been my pick-me-up and kick-me-in-the-bum friend for a very long time. A lifetime. I think it has been about 15 years but I haven't bothered to count. And then you left. Off to fulfil your own dream and live your own life. We had left each other before - the odd business trip that took you away, my gap years and contract work, but there was always the knowing that we would be there all the time. Even when it was only a short time that you would be away I always felt that there was something missing.

I hope that lasts. I hope that because our continents of choice and contexts are different now that we still hold enough of each other to always have that. I get a little scared that because we have this vast distance between us that you will not turn to me, and I will fall out of touch with what is important to you a little more each time there is an event or happening in your new life that I'm not there to witness. I hope not. Even from before you left I have been planning to come see you. To sit on your couch and play with the dogs and giggle at how the texture of the dog's tongue tickles my leg when he licks me.

Happy birthday for tomorrow, my friend.

"And I miss you, like the deserts miss the rain".

Hit or Mrs.

2008-11-19T13:17:00.004+02:00

Marriage is a bit of a hit or miss thing, isn't it? I mean, it's just not one of those things in life that comes with a money back guarantee or a return policy. I suppose there is the big D if it really isn't working out for you, but then that does seem a bit dramatic. Unless you are Elizabeth Taylor, in which case it's quite run-of-the-mill stuff.

I got real lucky. Maybe it's too early to tell? I'm not sure, but if I measure it on a day-by-day basis, then my days are blessed and good.

Looking back, I am so content with where we are. I admit that I wasn't sure I would be this happy. There was just so much of my damn picture that you didn't fit into! For a start, I wasn't the marrying type. I wasn't looking for a relationship (ok, maybe deep down on some invisible plain buried deep in the dreams of my subconscious I wanted one, but I would rather have dug my own eyeballs out with a blunt pencil then admit that to anyone, let alone myself). We met in a non-conventional environment. I thought you were ok, but it wasn't love at first sight. You told me that after our first meeting, you called your mom and told her that there was something different about me. We met again. Still no great shakes, even though you were a seriously good kisser! Then I got a nasty cold and you called, came round with a pharmacy full of medicine, made me tea, gave me meds, and sat perfectly still for almost 2 hours whilst I slept with my head in your lap, sweaty and drooling. When I woke up, I had a butterfly thought that fluttered through my mind but never settled - I could be with someone like this.
The picture of who I thought I wanted fought back hard and strong ... we are from different religious backgrounds; you are a loner and I am gregarious; you are painfully shy and I am loud and often abrasive; you were an artisan and I am in corporate; I come from a crazy but close family and you don't have contact with yours. You have 2 kids and an ex-wife! Hell no!
But still you gently persevered. You became my one-night stand. Then one night became many nights. There was some drama, some external influences, and every 2 months I dumped your cute ass.

Then you left. You took a job at the coast, got in your truck, and just left.
A week later we got engaged.

We have been married around a year and a half.
I think the most important thing I have learned since I have been married to you is that I like you. A lot. You're a really nice, down to earth, solid guy. Sure I love you, more than I ever thought possible, but I also really like you.

It's not that I was incomplete in any way without you, it's that with you I feel my purpose fulfilled.

A Wow Quote

2008-11-10T16:38:00.001+02:00

Seen on Post Secret:
"We accept the love that we think we deserve".

Wow.

Saturday Night Memories

2008-11-10T10:11:00.004+02:00

A weekend that started of with all the promises of happiness and togetherness. Mellow Fridays with dvd’s and take out.
An early start on Saturday morning to go drool over cars that are worth more than our house.
A call to make a reservation at the pub for the two of us to go watch the game.
A quick snoozle before heading out to go cheer for our team.
A great vibe, laughing and joking, just the two of us. Kisses stolen across the table.
The phone call.
It all changes…

We leave. He goes out to turn the car around quickly so that we are pointing to the entrance to make a quick getaway. I pay, begging the waiter to hurry up. It's an emergency.
It's raining gently.
Drive carefully, I beg. Hazard lights. High emotion, yet all feels so calm. Another panicked call. Tears. Sobs. Helplesness. Trying so hard to reassure. We’re almost there baby …

Damn! The gate won’t open! Out in the rain. Push the gate. Take one look at someone you love. Helpless. Broken. Distraught. At the end of what she can deal with. A reassuring hug. Quickly inside. Time seems to race, but all seems in slow motion.
A box of sleeping tablets swallowed.
A cold running shower. A toothbrush down her throat. I grab under her shoulders, he grabs her legs. All of us now sopping wet. I wonder if she is still alive. The dead weight under me starts slipping. I can’t make it to the door. Swap positions. I grab her legs, he grabs under her arms.
She opens her eyes. Dazed. The look of the lost and the dead. I don’t know whether or not I feel relieved. Even in this very moment, I know that the look on your face will haunt me forever. We manage to get her in the car. On her side. She has gone so thin. As ugly as the wheezing and retching sounds, it gives me some reassurance that she is still alive. Don’t you dare die on my beat. It all comes rushing back to me.
The rain belts down.

The drive to the closest hospital. Senses on overdrive. Hyper alert. Adrenaline rushing. Find the clinic. Find the entrance. Shout at the blank faces that greet me to get a stretcher. Run back inside when I see them not moving. I want to punch them. Run in to the ward. Get a stretcher myself. Push it back outside.
The rain is falling in sheets.

We are soaked. Get her inside. See that there is a competent looking doctor there. Rush back outside. Move the cars to the parking lot. Back inside. Doctors. Drips. Questions. Tears. More questions. Fill in this form. Medical Aid details. Walk outside. The adrenaline has subsided. My body starts to ache. Hot tears burn my cheeks. I squeeze his hand a little harder. He looks at me, wipes the tears away, and squeezes my hand back. Smoking outside. Questions. How can one person feel so alone and be so sad?

The rain falls persistently.
Back to casualty. Lukewarm tea with no milk. We wait. Read some magazine left in the waiting room. My eyes going over the same sentence three times, not reading, not caring, just waiting. Stable. Transfer to ward. Sighs of relief. Time to go home.

Back home, emotions rush over me like tidal waves. Memories flood back. I’ve been there. I’ve done this before. Do I look like the damn suicide patrol? I cry. I don’t sleep. I cry more. I crawl into his arms and listen to his breathing, wishing that I could crawl under his skin and be safe there from all of these memories.
The rain falls gently still.
It gets lighter.
It’s a new day.

Well blow me down with a feather!

2008-11-06T08:13:00.003+02:00

I decided that I would do my own tax return this year, as opposed to paying my (very wonderful and competent) tax advisor to do it.

I didn't quite believe the SARS advertisement campaign that said they had simplified the process. Come on now boys, this is South Africa, where things ~~never ever work as they should~~ take a while to get right.

All I can say is "whoop! whoop!"

Tax return submitted Tuesday evening. Assessment received last night. I'm getting a refund, which they expect to pay me by the end of THIS WEEK!

Yeeehaaaa!

I *heart* the internet and new e-filing system.

What makes it all bearable

2008-11-06T08:06:00.002+02:00

"And one last thing, I love Reisies Pieces."

I love every analytical thing about you, Poo Poo head.

Good Job America!

2008-11-05T15:20:00.002+02:00

I was driving to work just after 06h00 this morning when I heard that the race for the White House had been won. Congratulations America. I hope that the Change That You Can Believe In becomes the change that you want to see. I can assure you that the rest of the world is ready for it.

I rushed the last bit of my journey, hearing Senator McCain concede defeat on the radio just as I pulled in to the office car park. I dashed upstairs, logged in, went straight to CNN, and watched the most beautiful oration by the new President elect, Barack Obama.

I am really glad that there were not too many people around the office at that time, because I sobbed like a baby! All that, and I'm not even American! I can only imagine the emotional high that the US is on as the news settles in. I remember the feeling of cautious hope I felt in 1994 here in South Africa and I am glad to be alive during these exciting times.

Enjoy the moment. The hard work lies ahead, and the proof of the key lime pie is always in the slurp-slurp.

Growing up is hard to do. Now get on with it.

2008-10-27T16:47:00.004+02:00

There is not much more that irritates me in life then people who simply refuse to take responsibility for their lives and the situations that they have created for themselves. I see red. I want to scream and grab them by their shoulders and shake them, yelling at them to wake up, grow up and get a spine. I did not create your problems, and I was not the one who made the crappy decisions that got you to where you are now, so why the hell is it that you expect me to be the one to fix your mess. Stop it already! You make the last inkling of respect that I may have left for you bleed out slowly through the seeping pores of my anger.

I must ask myself why I seem to land up with these characters somewhere in my life. The losers, the unaccountable, the shrug-their-shoulders types. I am no longer the rescuer. I get my kicks elsewhere now, thanks very much.

The only other question that I have is why is it so damn hard to say no?
Maybe I need to work on growing my own spine some more.

Missing In Action ...

2008-10-24T08:45:00.005+02:00

My personality.
Last seen approximately two weeks ago. If found, please return to grumpy, bitchy owner. No reward offered, but I will be eternally grateful (as will my husband), and more importantly, the world will be saved from having to deal with me in this very blah state.

Every so often, I seem to hit a patch of the Big Funk. Thinking about it, it seems to have happened a lot less frequently over the past few years, but it still has the uncanny knack of surprising me. I wake up one arb morning standing on the platform of Bluesville station and can't quite remember how I got here. This seems to have been the tone of this week.

Nothing extraordinary has happened. In fact, life is good and I am abundantly blessed in so many ways. Hell, I even found bras that fit me, a skirt for summer, and not one but two pairs of casual pants on a recent shopping spree. How cool is that? I just seem to be shrouded with this low grade buzz of enthusiam-lacking anger, and I have this whole princess thing going on where I can't understand why everyone else's life is continuing so damn normally when mine feels like it is falling apart at the seams . I also have family members that suffer from bipolar depression, so I am a bit hyper-sensitive to depressive moods.

I am attributing this irritating stop in FunkTown to any one of the following, or all of the below:

It has been three weeks today that I kicked my 25/day nicotine habit, and damn I miss it. It's almost starting to get easier, but not quite yet.
I am eating my way through the no nicotine, which makes me feel even worse. Blech. It's really not like I can afford to pack any more weight on. Love handles? I have the whole kitchen, honey. Oh well. Pass the peanut butter (and toast, and chippies, and roast chicken, and steak, and chocolate, and the rest of that packet of chippies).
I have period pain
I am tired. Really tired. Is this year over yet, because I need some leave. Stat.

Go figure. Life is good.

Sensory Overload

2008-09-30T11:33:00.002+02:00

Tastes I relish:
Chili, ginger and garlic combos; a rich and decadent chocolate anything; sturdy home cooking; peanut butter straight up off a teaspoon; coriander; melted cheese with mustard; the burn on my tongue of single malt scotch.

Smells that make me melt:
The Highveld after it rains; a heady perfume with spicy undertones; vanilla/ginger/milk bubble baths; babies just after they’ve been bathed; hair after its been washed; fresh bread being toasted; fabric softener that reminds me of my childhood; freshly laundered clothes; real leather; the smell of fresh fruit after its just been cut; a just showered man who smells like soap.

Sights that excite:
Thrashing lightning dancing across a black clouded sky; colours of autumn; good interior decorating; fresh flowers; the sky just before sunrise when its all pink.

Sounds that make me smile:
Silence; wind blowing through trees; giggling kids; music, music, music; the content sigh of a lover just before they fall asleep; water flowing; rain falling.

I like to touch & feel:
Soft skin; an expressionful face; fresh crisp linen on a bed that’s just been made up; soft grass under my bare feet; fleecy blankets in the winter.

Morning

2008-09-26T09:17:00.000+02:00

I woke up to the feel of your warm skin next to mine, and my face nuzzled in your neck. The smell of your hair gently tickled my nose, and my arm wrapped over your waist rose and fell with your breathing. It feels so good to hold you again, your perfect body a blessing in my bed.
Your smile is infectious, and as you open your eyes it spreads warmly from your lips to mine. The sun rises outside. Your arms open and envelop me. As I lay my head on your chest I hear your heart beating steadily, and I feels like I am home.

If you are my reward for all the good stuff that I try to do in this world, then whomever it is who determines my fate, has recognized my efforts and has given me the greatest gift I could ever have dreamed of.

It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)

2008-09-23T16:20:00.000+02:00

It's one of those mildly irritating songs. I can't remember the band's name that sang it, I can't remember any more of the lyrics other than the chorus, and I keep messing it up with another tune, but for some reason I always seem to sing those words to myself when the smelly stuff seems to be hitting the proverbial fan and slanking its way down the walls.

When I woke up on Sunday morning South Africa had a president. Granted, we can all say what we want about the country and its state of political affairs (chaos?), but I, like millions of the masses, managed to ignore it as things that seemed to be progressing in the way that we were used to. Then I read the papers. Oops. Seems we don't really have a president after all. I laughed it off after listening to his resignation address to the nation on Sunday night, and the subsequent reports by some intelligent nutty-looking professor type about how this is 'normal for a democracy' and how 'in other countries, heads of state come and go'. I felt much better, and shoved my head back in the sand and my arse high up in the air. After all, I have always been a keen supporter of noone but Uncle Trevor Manuel, and the man everybody loves to hate, Mr Tito Mboweni. No, I don't care what he earns either... do you see a sub-prime lending crisis in South Africa?!? As long as we had them, we were good to go for at least another 14 years of corruption, greed, and all other normal political playings in a fledgling democracy.

Imagine my suprise when I read that my favourite Uncle had resigned today. What? Somebody tell me that you are joking. Pretty please? The Rand plummeted through its own arsehole, the million remaining whites in the North Eastern suburbs started phoning emigration attornies and shipping companies, and I furiously tried to keep up with all the breaking news on every website I could think of. An hour later, he had said something like he is resigning as he was appointed at the pleasure of the (now, but only until Thursday) president, and in light of Mbeki's resignation that he had also resigned, but he would certainly be open to serving a new president and cabinet if asked to do so. Erm, I don't mean to jump the gun here, but for poo's sake, can somebody ask already? Quickly. Preferably with a smile.

Safe and secure with the 'knowledge' that Uncle Trev is going nowhere, and Mr Mboweni really likes his new salary so he ain't about to up and jump, I can gratefully assume the ostrich position. Don't slap my arse as you walk past please. It wobbles and makes me terribly upset.

PS. oooh! oooh! I googled it. How could I forget that it's classic R.E.M
PPS. What the hell did we do before Google?
PPPS. I really have no opinion on politics, I just find it fun to watch the effects on the rand performance everytime one of our dear politicians opens their mouths