Various stuff

A selection of what is going on in my head...

• Looking forward to camera lesson two on Thurs, which should hopefully be less theoretical and more about taking pics! I'm now the (broke) owner of a new 2TB hard drive for my photos, a spare camera battery, a spare SD card, an SD card reader and a UV filter that fits my DSLR's lens.
• Having to organise people is a pain. TSC and I lead a small group for our church, which is awesome - such a nice bunch of people. Problem is, we've decided on a social for tomorrow night. Originally we were going to do go-karting, but it turns out that it's a bit pricey. I've given everyone a whole bunch of options and now I have a pretty much even split of people who want to do each option (except Adventure Golf. Seems we're all very much over that). The social is tomorrow night. What do I do? Sometimes democracy is annoying.
  
• I have a deadline on a big article for tomorrow. I should be writing it now, but my brain is fuzzy and I can't get it right. It's quite a complex subject, so I figured a little break while I blog might help - often if I go back to something I can't understand a bit later on, it all falls into place.
• It's so nice to be eating summer food. Last night, neither TSC nor I were keen for hot food, so we had ciabatta rolls with smoked chicken breast, avocado and sweet chili sauce. Not only was it super tasty, it requires no cooking and minimal washing up. Score!
• I need to invest in a fan for my study. It's a tiny room with big windows that get full sun most of the day, which is great in winter. In summer, however, it's like I'm in a little oven. Even my modem is unhappy with the heat. I've had to stand it on top of a glass to get enough air into the vents on the underside.
• It's nice to occasionally hang out with new people. We had a great braai on Saturday with two guys we've just met - one who has just moved to Joburg from Durban, and the other whom is only in SA for a month from the UK. There were a couple of other friends with us and we all watched the rugby and chatted for hours. They arrived at our place at 3pm and only left at 10.30pm. It was awesome.
• A friend of mine is a headhunter and she just sent me a list of funnies from the CVs people have sent to their recruitment agency. They are hilarious, especially seeing these are not some random ones off the internet, but have actually been collated by her company. I may have to post some this week.
  

Try this trick and spin it, yeah...

And you'll ask yourself, where is my mind?

Seriously. It's gone. My mind, that is. Or was. Or whatever.

Last night I dreamt that I poisoned myself. Not a suicide dream - there was actually some purpose or reason that I had to poison myself, Romeo and Juliet style. Can't remember why, but it all made sense in the dream. Then, in another dream, I was in a play about pirates and policemen. My bit was to storm on stage wearing an eye patch, bang my tin mug on the table and storm off again. I was awesome. You would have cheered and clapped for me.

So, Pixies, where is my mind?

Not on this blog yesterday, obviously, or there would've been a 14 April 2010 post here. There's not. And this is because I could not think in a straight line (or even a curved line. Or dotted line), simply because I had not had enough sleep.

This was not because of bizarre dreams (although there were some), but because I knew I had to get up early to be dressed and ready to leave for a business networking breakfast that started at 7am. When I know I have to get up early, my brain wakes me up every 10 minutes just to make sure that I don't oversleep. Which I didn't. In fact, I just plain didn't sleep, nevermind oversleep.

But, I am back today, lucky you, in all my magic randonmess to tell you about my crazy poisoning dreams and leave you with these interesting thoughts from the inimitable Edward Monkton:

Jumping on the bandwagon

Ok, so it's more like wearily waving at the bandwagon as it rumbles on by, but who cares?

As the headache is still hanging around, my inspiration is non-existent and everyone else is doing it (probably the real reason), today I'm going to do a question post(Brazen, Po, Sleepyjane and Cam style). Sucker for peer pressure, hey?

Anyway... I am going to ask some questions and you can answer in the comments section. Or not. That's fine too. I just won't love you as much. Kidding! Maybe.

Here goes...

1. What's the last dream you remember? I dreamt that two of my clients had a meeting and got into a cat fight. It was SO funny.
2. Favourite take-out? Probably Nandos, of the fast food type places. Otherwise Ghazal's. Yum!
3. Song stuck in your head? Jack Parow's "Cooler as ekke". I blame Cam. The music video is so funny!
4. Person you'd most like to smack in the head? Toss up between Malema and one of my clients, let's call him Oblivious.
5. Language you most wish you could speak? Mandarin Chinese. It would be useful and also sound hilarious coming out my mouth ;-)
6. Favourite feature on yourself? Probably my hair, when it behaves itself. It's a nice colour.

YOUR TURN!

Thought-streaming

Random thoughts from a sleep-deprived brain:

I'm repeating my pattern. The one I always think I'm over. Basically, I over-commit myself, find my life has been eaten by my commitments, burn myself out trying to do too many things at once and then begin to withdraw from everyone and everything to recover. Right now I'm nearing the phase where I cry a lot, drop the ball, cry more for disappointing people, hide under a blanket with Oreos and a Marian Keyes novel and eventually get some much-needed sleep. Hmmm... maybe it's possible to skip all of that and jump straight to the sleeping? I hope so. The crying bit is unattractive and leaves me with aching sinuses. Also, I've run out of Marian Keyes. Maybe not such a bad thing.

My mother is possibly the reason I don't like to expose my vulnerability to people in person (for some reason, I seem absolutely fine to broadcast it on the internet where random strangers and my father, who may be lurking here right now, can read it). The woman is a trojan. She's been sick the past while with cystitis. Antibiotics didn't seem to help. But yesterday when we spoke on the phone, she told me the infection had spread to her kidneys and she'd been to hospital the day before to get a stronger antibiotic, be put on a drip and get herself sorted out. I was gobsmacked. She hadn't said a word until I pressed her about her health. I was ready to rush out to their place and play Florence Nightingale, but she said she was "fine" and that at least she was feeling better than she had the day before.

My dad doesn't know how to handle my mom being ill. Maybe it's because she's a doctor and when she was still practising she developed an amazing immune system from being around bugs all day every day. She hardly ever got sick. And when she is sick, she doesn't seem to demand sympathy like most of us. She just carries on, and, if necessary, puts herself to bed for a day or so until she's feeling better. But she no longer works as a doctor and her immune system isn't as impenetrable as it used to be. She works with a children's home and sometimes picks up bugs from the kids there, or from one of the family if we're sick. My dad worries a lot while she's sick, perhaps because she's so independent about it, and frets until he's sure she's better. It's very sweet, really. He can be a total hardass at work, but he's tender as a lamb with my mom (hehe, hope you're enjoying this, Dad. Seeing you won't let me blog about certain other things. TLL).

On a totally different and even more random topic, don't ever buy "Budget Russian" sausages from PnP. I made Jambalaya last night and TSC managed somehow to convince me that the usual sausages I buy are too expensive and that with all the spices and herbs I use in the dish, we wouldn't even notice the difference if we replaced them with the cheapie Russians.

Ugh. We did notice. Never again. Sausages are fairly gross in the first place (made with the sweepings of the abattoir floor, I tell you), but Budget Russians are just plain disgusting. And orange. That should've told us. There's not much scarier than a tanned sausage. Except maybe a dancing sausage with an Afro.

This sausage incident once again demonstrated to me the value of doing the grocery shopping without TSC. Because if he's with me, it's somehow not acceptable to buy the normal supposedly pricey sausages, but absolutely fine to fill up my trolley with other arbitrary expenses, like Lunchbar chocolates ("but they're on special!"), which due to their strange advertising tactics always remind me of short, black Scottish men in skirts. Or huge bottles of orange juice (he reckons that "we both drink it!" suffices as an explanation).

Now here's something I am glad they don't tell in our local PnP, because I would never be able to pass up on the chance to buy these beauties:

Prettiest cupcakes ever!

Not much at steak here

I am utterly exhausted. All I want is 10 minutes to stand still and do nothing. But seeing that's not likely (am typing this post between following up on work emails and filing residents' objections to this stupid store), I will indulge in a random rant instead. About steak.



Yes, steak.



It's just one of those things I don't "get". Seriously, what is the fuss about steak? It's a lump of cooked meat. But people go mad for it (especially South Africans). They search for the perfect steak restaurant, order their massive piece of dead cow and then rave to everyone about how delicious it is.



But it isn't really. It's just plain boring. I would never order steak at a restaurant - there are too many other more exciting things on the menu for me to get stuck with a chunk of meat. I would even pick good old roast chicken over steak any day of the week. Or calamari. Or curry. Or a stirfry. Anything, really. Except tripe. I draw the line there.



People think I feel like this because I haven't had a "proper" or "perfect" steak. I have. My husband is the world's greatest steak snob. I have tasted the steak he orders at restaurants ranging from The Cape Colony to Coco Bongo and many, many places in between. And I'll tell you what... it all tastes like steak.



Yes, some steaks are tender and some are tough. Some are cooked beautifully while others are burnt to a crisp or slapped on your plate while they're practically still moo-ing. TSC actually does a better steak than most of the restuarants we've been to. But even the most delicately spiced, perfectly cooked piece of steak still tastes like a big chunk of beef.



I prefer the taste of fresh coriander, lemon butter, plum sauce, green curry or napolitana sauce to steak. That's just the way it is.



But you wouldn't believe how many people have tried to convince me that I am wrong and that steak is indeed the ultimate meal. Weird.



Anyway, go ahead and take your shot. Tell me how awesome steak is. Or don't. I'm going to pick the roast chicken anyway.

Random snatches

I got a lot of stuff done at home yesterday - finished off that freelance project, did some web copy for another client, wrapped my dad's Christmas present from my mom (long story), had Boss Chick and Roo over for tea and ordered a wedding gift from here for friends getting married soon.

Then it was off to visit Louisa to drop off her baby shower present. I figured we would pop in for a little while, but we ended up only leaving at 8pm last night! Louisa and I swam while TSC and Sparrow played endless games of darts, and eventually Louisa's mom invited us to stay for dinner. I felt bad that we stayed so long, but I had an awesome time - haven't laughed so hard in ages. Between Louisa's marvellous sense of humour and Sparrow's mad antics, we were certainly entertained!

Today's been ok so far - had a brainstorming session with a client this morning for the morning job. Champagne and orange juice got the creative juices flowing, although they've also meant that this post has been written in the 5-min comfort breaks in between sections of the meeting.

This afternoon I will hopefully FINALLY lock down TSC's present. I have ventured out shopping to buy it five times now. FIVE. The first place I visited was too expensive, then the next place didn't have stock. The third place had stock, but only in pink etc...

Maddening.

Hope I get it sorted today because TOMORROW WE LEAVE FOR CAPE TOWN!

If today had a taste...

...It would taste like lettuce.


On that random note, if you still haven't voted, please go and give your favourite South African blogs some love at http://www.sablogawards.com/2009/ (yes, the deadline has been extended).

One of the most useful things my father ever told me:

"Don't mud wrestle with a pig. You'll get dirty and the pig will just have a whole lot of fun."

This guy obviously didn't have my dad around (story taken from here):

Farmer Could Be Fined For Pig Mud Wrestling

It appears a Baltimore County farmer is going to be fined for conducting pig mud wrestling matches.

Richard Sher reports Spring Meadow Farms owner, Stan Dabkowski, received warnings from animal rights groups and the county health department, but went forward with the matches, all of them videotaped by the health department.

Eyewitness News received this message from the Baltimore County Health Department: "There were clear cut examples where the pigs were being mistreated. Citations will be issued accordingly."

"They've got qualified people here, videotaping the pig mud wrestling. All they had to tell me was they felt the pigs were being mistreated and I would have said OK and stopped," said Dabkowski. He canceled planned pig mud wrestling for the following three Saturdays.

Dabkowski no longer has the pigs. He says he is inviting the entire community to a free pig roast, Saturday, Oct. 18.

"I'm sure people who are opposed to eating animals will be opposed to the roast," said Dabkowski, "but pigs are for eating."

Fines could be levied some time this week.

Weird space

First of all, thanks to everyone for the well wishes yesterday. And I honestly wasn't that upset about the follower. It just makes me wonder: "Did I write something taht offended him / her? Does he / she find that I'm no longer entertaining..." And so on.

Good news is... the follower is back. *gleeful grin*

Secondly, overshare warning... this is one of those self-involved navel-gazing posts that would probably be more appropriate in a private diary. I have warned you.

So... onwards...

I'm in a strange space with myself at the moment. You may be thinking that any space I'm in will be weird simply by association, but it's more than that. See (here comes the overshare), for those of you who don't know, I've suffered from various eating disorders over different periods in my life. And although I have been fine for the past three and a half years, I don't think I'll ever really "get it out of my system".

What I mean is... Yes, I don't make myself throw up anymore. Or abuse diet pills / laxatives anymore. Or starve myself or exercise compulsively or weigh myself a million times a day (in fact, I don't even own a scale). I no longer compulsively count calories, pretend to eat food and then hide it or even forbid poor TSC from eating certain food groups along with me. I don't do any of those insane things I used to do. But... I do go through periods of "darkness" when I feel tempted to step out of my sanity and do one or more of those things again.

I never do.

I KNOW that the best way forward is to eat healthily and exercise enough. I understand that eating small meals throughout the day and allowing myself treats without going overboard or being a food Nazi keeps my metabolism up and stops me from craving. I know that exercising regularly not only stops me from freaking out but also gives me a great endorphin boost.

I know these things. That knowledge doesn't, however, stop me from having stretches of absolutely hating my body (specific bits more than others) and getting completely distraught about the fact that I can't change it quickly enough to make me feel better. And I'm not talking about a blue mood or two... these are spells of depression that last weeks and sometimes months and remind me of really dark times when I was fighting against hospital admittance and contemplating suicide and all that crap.

I once explained it to my shrink (poor woman) as having twin personalities that battle it out in my head. The one twin is fairly normal. She has moments of insecurity like most women and doesn't like her squishy tummy very much. But she believes that she's doing her best and that should be good enough. She lives moderately, understands that certain times of the month will be rough and gives herself a little leeway.

The other twin is completely loopy. It's when she's won the argument that the insane complusive behaviour starts. She is never satisfied with herself and gets disproportionately upset about things. She overanalyses compliments and turns them into insults and she rages with anger at the drop of a hat. She believes that everyone secretly can't stand her and is convinced that action - severe action - must be taken against her useless self as punishment or something. A complete control freak, she is irrational and unreasonable and she cannot live in a middleground of any kind.

Hmmm... just reread all of that. I'll forgive you if you do stop following me - I don't make very much sense sometimes.

I've been in one of those yuck phases for the past few weeks. Not too extreme, thankfully, but still not-so-nice for TSC to have to deal with. I really wish I knew what triggers these things, but I just don't. They happen seemingly without my involvement - pyscho twin takes over and I'm just along for the (unpleasant) ride. My brain seems to turn into an organ of pure, extreme emotion and lose any ability to process logic.

For instance, I discovered that one of my favourite girl bloggers is pregnant a few weeks back. She wasn't planning it and she and I had actually discussed how terrifying the thought of pregnancy is. Reaction? Psycho twin latched onto this new idea to explain her unhappiness with her body - she must be pregnant. Her body had decided to wage war on her and do something really extreme.

Now please understand that TSC and I sorted out our contraception ages ago and have been very, very careful ever since. Neither of us feel ready for children yet. But almost every month, psycho twin has a panicked moment when she supposes she might be preggers. Until the curse arrives and then sane twin steps in.

This month was infinitely worse. Sane twin should've done the smart thing and bought shares in the home pregnancy test company before psycho got going. But she didn't. And psycho went into all-out-compulsive mode, stressing and fretting and measuring and imagining. She's a bit stupid, this twin, because she doesn't talk to anyone about her panic. She just carries on, dragging the weight of her crazy illusions with her in a constant blind stress-fest.

Thankfully, her period arrived at long last. Relieved as she was, this meant that she needed to find another reason to explain why her body won't behave the way she wants it to. And her thoughts turned once again to those severe methods that might beat it into submission.

Sane twin continues to resist these compulsions towards self-abuse. Fortunately her strength is enough to hold her twin back from taking action. Even if she can't make her stop thinking about it. That's something, isn't it?

Of blogging affliction and warm houses

It's so awesome to be back at the blog. During the long hard hours when I was putting in my in-laws time, I wished I had access. Not specifically to moan or vent (well, ok... maybe a bit), but to have an outlet to get what I was thinking and feeling out of my head, because once I've written things down, it seems to give me renewed perspective. Then, of course, there's the fact that people leave me nice comments commiserating with my situation ;-) It's always nice to feel like someone understands.

So, yes... the blog addiction is still strong with me! Just so you know.

In less navel-gazing news, TSC and I wrote out a list of people we plan to invite to our house-warming party. The total is 150. Sheesh! I didn't know we knew 150 people, let alone wanted them in our home.

But I seriously don't think we could fit that number into our house. Not unless we stacked them sideways. Which wouldn't be much fun, you gotta admit. Unless you're the perverted type. And then I don't really want to know.

So we have now decided to have... wait for it... FOUR housewarming do's! Insanity is strong with us too, it appears.

This poses a further problem (the four events, not the insanity - that's quite enjoyable), as we have a grand total of TWO free weekend days this month, and then next month's weekends are almost booked up already with my mom's birthday, my parents' 30th wedding anniversary and the like.

But, in typical evil genius fashion... I have a plan...

It involves much abuse of the ellipsis... (in case you hadn't noticed), the collusion of various sinister (and not-so-sinister) people, and the borrowing of many chairs, a braai or two and perhaps even some pavement... All will be made clear in due course.

Or not.

And it's not that evil or exciting anyway, except in comparison to the 'to do' list on my desk today. Which I must now tackle like a Springbok would an All Black - viciously and without a thought for the pain it will cause me ;-) A rugby reference, for those of you lucky enough not to know what I'm on about.

Cheers. For now.

Time is like that arcade dance game...

...You know that one where you have to step on the little lights when they light up? They start out slow and then they speed up until there's no way you could stamp on all of them even if you had an extra pair of feet.

It feels like time is like that. When you're a kid, the school holidays feel like they go on forever and ever and eventually you just want to go back so that you can stop being bored. And when you're at varsity, you think you're really busy with exams, lectures, assignments, sports and other activities. And then when you start working a full day, it feels like there's never time to do the things you used to do and like you are the busiest person on earth. And if you move in with someone, you have to take their time into account too. And then if you have kids, you have someone else that you are responsible for 24 hours of the day, seven days a week, and busyness becomes the understatement of the century.

I wonder if the game slows down again as you get older? Because it feels like everyone I talk to just gets busier and busier every year. Or is it just me?

Anyway... enough with the "deep" stuff. Here's a Friday funny for you. Looking forward to seeing those of you who are attending Bloggirls tomorrow. Have a great weekend, all.

I honestly have nothing interesting to write about today, so I'm glad that I've been tagged by Angel to do the unconscious muttering meme, in which I need to respond with the first thing that comes to mind. I love word associations, so...

I say … and you think … ?

In love : TSC (shew! Almost typed his real name in there!)

Be my guest : Disney's Beauty and the Beast (now I've got that song stuck in my skull. Be our guest, be our guest, be our guesssssssssssst!)

Number one : Engen. It's a South African chain of fuel stations and their pay-off line is "With us you are number one". Sad that the first thing I thought of was a petrol station.

Swallowed whole : Jonah, as in the dude that the whale ate.

50 percent : chance of rain. That's how the skies look today.

Made in : China. Like my sunglasses ;-)

Supplement : vitamins that I never ever take.

Right for : us - our new house. Yay!

Endless : drama. Becuase life's like that, y'know ;-)

Ceramic : owls. My grandmother collects them. Just why I have no idea.

I'm not tagging anyone. If you want to do it, please go ahead and then let me know. Standard meme "rules" (hah!) apply.

Randomness

I have no sensical (yes, that be a word in the Doodles dictionary) train of thought today. My train has derailed and is making its way through the African bundu even as we speak (write. Whatever. Philistines)...


So I'm just going to post the random bits and pieces that are floating (and sinking) around in my skull. Sorrreeeee for yoooou! Suckers... MwahahaHAHA! Enjoy my ellipsis abuse while it lasts, for it is rare indeedy. Or not.


Uhhhhhh.... I feel like I'm in a dead space at the moment. Nothing exciting is going on, and for once, I'm not under too much pressure. I work well under pressure, so I'm not working well at the moment. Like a little faulty pressure cooker - everything is half-cooked, including my brain...


Moving on... We visited our new house on Monday evening to discuss taking over some of the garden equipment and tools. TSC loves tools like most women love chocolate, only more... In fact, he loves tools like men love boobs. Yes, that much. Tis true. Thus Monday evening's outing made for a long discussion with the people we're buying from and resulted in much boredom on my part. I mean, how excited does he want me to get over a work bench. If it were a chocolate work bench it would be a different story...


I came away more sad than happy... Not about the house... LOVE the house. But the owners will put their gorgeous cat George down when they leave (going to Australia). He is a beautiful, friendly cat who looks exactly like my kitty Marble at an older age, and I would desperately like to keep him, but I can't see a way to do that...

Ok, crying now. Seriously. I am as soft as double-ply loo paper. So much for dead space... Rargh...


In other news, I seem to have Neil Diamon's Sweet Caroline in my head for some obscure reason. I'm mentioning it to ensure that I pass on the misery.... Come on! Altogether now: Sweeeeeeeet Caroline... ba-da-ba... Good times never seemed so good... I know you're singing with me! Sweet Caroline...


Ahem... fisnihed now, I promise...

Yesterday was payday. Now there's a good reason to be singing, bar the bunch of debit orders that eat away my pay within minutes of it arriving in my account, that is...


But, the other good news is that some of my freelance clients have paid, so there is moolah in our work account. Yeeeeha! Still scared to touch it though. Need some tax education ASAP. Ruby? Oooohhh... new song, new song: Ruby, Ruby, Ruby... ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! 'Scuse the howling...


Last night there was a cat sitting on our neighbours roof, howling (yes, cats can howl apparently). Eventually the owners came home and managed to get it back inside. I feel like sitting on a roof and howling... Why? I dunno. Would just be cool to see everyone's faces, I guess. Not so cool to be in a straight jacket afterwards though...


I warned you that the randomness is strong today. And it's contagious... See:





Ok, done for real now. Till tomorrow, when sanity may or may not be restored.