The Boy

*flexing fingers* Oh good. They work.

Well, where do I start. When I last blogged I was in the middle of having a moment. I won't apologise. I feel as if I have lived a year in the last two months. Things have been so busy! But alas, for all the busy-ness, I am still jobless/careerless, but not directionless. I did have a shot at starting something of my own today...something that could be great! More about that later. Or maybe not.

Life is certainly challenging at the moment, but I have someone standing by my side. I think it's time I come clean. A lot of my friends have been very curious about The Boy...

The biggest and best change in my life is having fallen for one of the most amazing men you could ever meet. I'm smiling so widely as I write this. Thinking about him does that. He isn't perfect (thank fuck for that), but he is perfect for me. I wasn't expecting him to just show up in my life, but that he did. There I was, minding my own business, separated from my very-shortly-to-be-finalised-ex husband (sad, yes, but...), enjoying being a singleton and... WHAM!

When I first met him, I kept him at arms length for quite a while. Looking back, it's kinda funny. He wooed me with serious intent and in the end I had to give in. I couldn't resist anymore. His weaponary included not playing on his very obvious alpha male appeal, disarming me with his sense of humour, using those sparkly, devlish green eyes against me, not judging me for the life I've lived, caring for me on a level most men would find it hard to match, understanding my crazy (even if he doesn't enjoy it), being affectionate regardless of where we are (mostly)... You get the picture.

Lest you think I'm painting this dreamy, moony, oh-so-perfect picture, let me share this with you. We're both awkward, and have had a couple of awkward "getting to know you moments". We're learning that it's all about communication. Well, I am, at least. Also, sometimes I don't get backrubs, or juice when I wake up, and the number of musical voicemails has declined to zero...  Hee hee :-) I may be a little spoilt. But I believe in starting as you intend to carry on!

I haven't known him for that long at all, but I don't care what other people may think. I trust my instinct and I'm choosing to share my life, no holds barred, with someone who contributes greatly to my happiness. I am treated like a queen, and I would do pretty much anything for him because of who he is, and how he treats me (and my Immy).

You do know that I could go on and on and on... but I best leave you with that. I would love to share my happiness with you all. I think we all deserve some happiness in between the madness.

Mwah!

UnPC

Dear Blogger.com,

It's been ages since my last post.

I will come back soon and tell you why I've been gone for so long. First, I need to get something off my chest. My apologies if it sounds like I got up on the wrong side of the bed. I didn't.

I am a curvy, slightly crazy, imperfect, 36 year old, mixed race, mixed culture, divorced mother of a 14 year old I had at the age of 23, while living the life of a model in the U.S of A. And that is just the half of it.

I have done some fucked up shit on my path, no doubt. (Details to follow in my first book.) I have also had some of the most fun, glamourous, scary, materialistic, thrilling, beautiful, spirtual, moving experiences in life, which very few people my age have been blessed enough to have. Hang in there, I'm going somewhere with this...

I have dived into every aspect of my life head first, with the greatest enthusiasm. Some of my choices have ended with hurt and pain, but no regret, and I've moved on to the next chapters in my life with as much enthusiasm as if i'd never felt pain. I will continue to overcome my fears and throw myself at life, because I believe in living and not merely existing.

To my point. I am proud of who I am. I love who I am. I am lucky and blessed to be where I am and have had the experiences I have had. I will not change my version of my life experiences for anyone. I am going to continue to be who I am.

I cannot change the colour of my skin, or my bloodline. I do not want to change the colour of my skin, or my bloodline.

Anyone who judges me based on the fact that I am mixed race, divorced, a mother and lived the kind of life that I have can go and fuck themselves. Yes, I have an EP of 95%, but right now 'go and fuck yourself' works for me.

Anyone who judges me based on the fact that I am mixed race, divorced, a mother and lived the kind of life that I have and HASN'T EVEN MET ME... no comment. Anyone found out making excuses for who I am, well, you can go and fuck yourself too.

Feeling this way must be what life was like, back in the dark ages. I am reminded of why I left South Africa in the first place.

The end.

New Millenium Lovers

"Love that is not madness is not love" - Pedro Calderon de la Barca

For the past decade and a bit, I was safely hidden in a world where I thought I understood love. Little did I know. In today's world, it seems I understand love even less.

Marriages are falling apart everywhere I look. My opinion on this subject is that unless you have completely stopped loving someone as your life partner, there is always a way to fix things. Call me naive. Whatever. It's when the love has been beaten to death and not even a defibrillator can bring it back that I can understand dissolving something as beautiful as a marriage. Unfortunately a lot of marrieds forget that once they believed the idea of marriage beautiful. When a marriage falls apart... well, it's one of the saddest things in life.

Here's what seems even more sad to me... falling in love in the New Millenium. It appears that each and every one of us has given our hearts to someone and been hurt. This is life. I find that the people from "my era" are being influenced just as much as younger generations by the instant gratification disease  that epitomises the times we live in now (Patience is a virgin. Yes, I said virgin. And we all know there are hardly any of those around anymore). When you add the two together, the results are not pretty.

The combination of hurt and instant gratification disease is leading to cynicism, scepticism, and fatalism. He's only with me because... He said so but... How long can love really last?... I want, now... Hell! I could expand on this theory for pages, but I'm not in the mood. If you ask me if relationships have any hope what-so-ever based on this attitude, I'd say don't fucking bother. This kind of love seems like a minefield... You can be blown to shreds at any moment. If that's your thing, good on you.

I look around and ask myself what happened to meeting someone (in real life, not on Facebook or Twitter), actually liking each other, then dating, flirting, falling head over heels in love, trusting, dreaming together, loving together, growing together... I feel really naive. For another world, another time.

Nothing in life is ever easy or simple. Yet it is.

I believe that if you want love that takes your breath away, moves your soul, frightens you a little bit, makes you happy, sets you on fire, makes you want to be a better person, gives you a glimpse of how beautiful the future could be, provides serenity, lifelong friendship and is better than any dream ...then you need to let go of the bullshit and learn to trust and have faith and be positive and visualise and endure and suffer and miss and desire and accept and be patient and believe and learn and communicate and be honest and passionate and courageous and yourself (as scary as that may be).

Or you could have moments that resemble these "New Millenium Lovers" and just say "fuck it", both literally and figuratively. I have moments when I get so vexed about love, and how difficult and painful it can be. In those moments I would rather just shut it off, disconnect, fly a million miles away and be on my own. The eternal party bachelorette, and eventually, the spinster mom and her cat. I like my own company, have great friends, am very sociable and would be just fine living that life. The problem is that I detest "fine", and as much as I like islands, I am not actually one. So what the fuck is a bird to do?!


I think the experiences I've had to date are different to those of my peers in that I have less time for being indirect. I know where I'm heading and how I want to get there. I'm generally life-loving, positive and driven and when I make up my mind, that is it. I realise that projecting this on to others is unfair, and so I work hard not to afflict my standards on those around me. I fuck up sometimes. That human thing.

There are moments when my passions consume me. Now is one of those moments.

Mush

This blog was meant to be a very specific short story. Once I'd finished writing it, I couldn't bring myself to publish it. I'm a wuss of a writer at the moment. Too many things going on in the background that I want to share, but just can't. And even though I can use dramatic license, there's the need for a soupçon of privacy, which I'm afraid my words would not provide no matter how much I abuse said license.

...In all honesty, this is like holding on to the juicest story in the universe. I swear if I don't tell someone I'm going to spontaneously combust. Ggaaahhhh! I need to get a grip.

Ho hum, twiddly thumb. Soooo... what shall I share with you instead? Thumb! That reminds me. I had a little accident last week. I was in the restrooms at The Zone in Rosebank, used the paper towel dispenser, and got my right thumb sliced through to the bone on one side, and all the way through the fleshy part on the other. The mall staff hadn't locked the towel dispenser and it fell and almost decapitated my thumb. I saw blood everywhere! There was a spurting fountain of it. I couldn't figure out where it'd come from, until I finally looked at my hand, then the floor, then the wall... I had to run out of the bathroom for help, leaving a trail of my DNA everywhere, then head back in to try and stem the flow while waiting for emergency services, which never arrived. I ended up wrapping my thumb in copious amounts of tissue paper, that turned red in seconds, and driving myself to the clinic in a state of shock with a bloody hand. I couldn't compress my hand and drive safely at the same time, so went with driving safely. It was not pretty.

Long story shortened, I ran from the hospital when they mentioned stitches and fled, with my bloody-wrapped hand, to a friends house who has extensive experience in such injuries. I arrived on his doorstep in a bit of a state, was given loads of TLC by his wife, and then they both put my thumb back together as best as they could. Did I mention the knight in shining armour who came speeding to my rescue? No? Well he soothed my frantic tears and made me feel a little calmer... and maybe slightly em-bare-assed.

I guess looking back at it now, it was the shock and pain, on top of not knowing the area I was in and trying to navigate my way around to find a hospital that combined together to freak me out a bit. Ok, a lot. Normally I would have called my father, but that's another story...

I sincerely hope you aren't eating anything while reading this. My thumb is on it's fourth dressing and the bone cut seems to be healing better than the one on the fleshy side. There will probably be scars, which I shall wear as badges of honour. Well, not really, but I always wanted to use that phrase.

See? I managed to distract myself and tell you a true (gross out) story without using dramatic license. Now I best go, before the feeling of spontaneous combustion sets in again.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

I'm home with the lurgy. Spent the night coughing, like someone with a 60-a-day habit. Very sexy. Just wanted to come online and share that with you.

With free time on my hands, I thought I'd do something productive, rather than give in to the work of the devil. I spent hours trawling through travel pics. They brought back some great memories! All the trips I've taken have been special, but a few stand out.

My first trip to Egypt was post the Al-Qaeda bombing of Sharm-El-Sheik. I felt quite guilty going on holiday after so many people had lost their lives, but the trip had been booked for ages. I spent my birthday travelling through Sharm (just another tourist destination), Dahab, Alexandria, Taba and Nuweiba. I snorkeled in the Blue Hole, had a local BBQ catered for by one of the Egyptian tribes in the Oasis of Mount Wadi Gnai, followed by a climb up the mountain itself. I rode a camel through the desert and then promptly passed out from heat stroke. I woke up a club-owner to belly-dance with local dancers at the Tree Club in Dahab, situated on the edge of the Red Sea, at 4 in the morning. I saw the sunset rise over Saudi, across the way. I slept on the sand of the Sahara, in a Bedouin camp. I remember lying on my back, listening to a fox howl, feeling the desert wind on my skin, and gazing up at a view of millions of stars before going to sleep. Breathtaking! All the photos in the world can't replace the memories I have of that trip.

Another memorable trip was to the US after having lived and studied there some years prior. I spent a few days in Big Bear, in the San Bernardino Mountains. I stayed in a log cabin, that overlooked the lake, surrounded by the mountains. I smoked vanilla cigars overlooking the lake, drank local wine and had the most amazing pancakes for breakfast at the Original Pancake House. I went hiking in the mountains, hoping to spot a cougar. Next time...

Laguna beach, on the west coast of the US, is one of my most favourite places in the world. I spent the afternoon watching Kelly Slater and Rob Machado on the beach, surfing. My friend, the original honky (aka Adam) lives in Laguna Beach. We went for lunch at Johnny Rockets after, where I had the best chilli cheese dog and curly fries in the world! Later, at Adam's place, we heard the sounds of his neighbours drifting in through his living room windows, in what can only be described as a display of mid-evening porno sex. Shameless!

As I'm writing this, I've begun to realise that there are quite a few memorable trips I'd like to wax lyrical about. There's Malta, where I went dancing at the St. Johns Co-Cathedral, built originally as the church for the Knights of St. John, and where Caravaggio painted the Beheading of St John the Baptist. Tunisia, where I went to try heal my soul a few months after Malakqi died. I went swimming off a coral reef in Hammamet, with a depth of over 30 metres! Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Maldives, Sri Lanka, Hawaii, New Zealand... the list goes and on and on.

I definitely have itchy feet. Where to next? I'm dying to go to Cuba, before the architechure and the old cars are completely phased out. I want to learn to Tango from the old Cubans who teach on the cobbled sidewalks throughout the city.

A trip to Machu Pichu in Peru is next on the list. Then India. Then... wherever the travel bug takes me.

I think I'm beginning to get delirious. I better go and lie down so the visions in my head will stop. It's so hot and sticky. I can't breathe. That may have something to do with the head congestion. Who would believe I went through 9 months with not a single sniffle and now summer is here, I get sick. Ho hum. Catch you later!

Joke of the Day

Aaah. it's fun laughing at some people. This Malema joke made my day.

Julius: Hello I would like to order some guns.

The gunsmith replies: What? The line is bad.

Julius: Guns! (getting louder)

Gunsmith: Sorry I can hardly hear, please repeat!

Julius: (very loud now) GUNS!! G 4 jesus, U 4 europe, N 4 anything and S 4 eskom...Guns idiot!!

Random Week

Yaye! I have my home internets back! *HUGS screen, modem and hard drive*

At this moment, I am multi-tasking "Supernatural" with updating my blog. Don't worry. I'm a woman. I can do this. On some days I can even drive and chew gum simultaneously. A real shocker, I know.

Wait...Dean is about to take his shirt off... Hmmm. Yums.

As I was about to say, the last week has been an interesting-happy-sad-mad-hectic-fun-busy-thoughtprovoking one.

Interesting and thought provoking because I've been keeping my eye on the news and Idiot Malema's Twitter page. I'm getting a niggly suspicion that there is a group of political assholes who would love to become the oligarchy of the country. Except instead of being distinguished by royalty, wealth and family ties, this oligarchy would be distinguished by greed, corruption, lies and misinformation. I suspect too, that this particular group of political assholes would love to cuff and chain anyone who dares utter a word of disrespect against them, in particular, limiting our rights to free speech. Have a read of these articles, which are only two of many showing up in the news of late - http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/south-africa/100824/press-freedom-under-threat and http://www.mg.co.za/article/2010-08-12-sas-pressfreedom-debate-goes-global

(Breaking for a moment to watch Sam get down and dirty with some hot babe. Hmmm. Milkybar and Cinnamon.)

I've been very happy, interspersed with some immensly sad moments. No, I am not certifiable. Nor am I on any prescription medication. Like the customised Ouroboros I have inked on my wrist, I am facing yet another new beginning in my life. I wonder if this time I'll emerge as a butterfly... I'm really not a moth kind of girl.

The mad-hectic-busy part of my week relates to this being my final week as part of the Avusa group. I consult for the month of November, and then who knows where I'll end up. It's bound to be another exciting rollercoaster ride.

...OMG. There are TWO Deans!...

Oh, yes, fun. I've been getting out a bit and meeting some really cool people. For me it's quite unusual to meet real people, strange as that may sound. I meet people online all day, and often socialise for work. The people are rarely real. I do wonder how it is coming back home has changed that part of my life. I used to meet real people in London quite often. I suspect this lack of meeting real people may have something to do with having enforced hermitism on myself, working 12 hour days and chasing that next step up the corporate ladder. It left little time for real things on purpose. But that was then. This is now! I'm happy, laughing, smiling and free-spirited. I still have my freak-out crazy moments, of course, but they're part of my charm.

Before I leave you, I'd like to recommend you watch The Boat That Rocked. If you love music (any kind of music) and laughing, this is a great movie!

And that, dear readers, is me for the night. The Supernatural boys have just said goodbye to me too. Sigh.

Buenas noches mis amores.