In which I end this post with a question for all of YOU!

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Dude, you’re the eternally single female, what do you mean you have a boyfriend?!

This was a retort from one of my best guy mates.  He’s shocked that I have the ability to actually be someone’s girlfriend.  Lets face it though - I am too, okay.  But it’s so simple and funnily enough, it has come so easily.  A mutual friend of Jon and I (the same person we met through, actually) asked me the other day how I was coping – knowing my phobia for anything regarding commitment – and it was without hesitation that I answered, “its fabulous actually”.  And it is.

Now if only everyone else could swallow their shock / horror / incredulity, that would be awesome.  It gets a bit monotonous restraining myself physically when I’m being accused of joking about being in a relationship.  Yes, I’m unsingled, get over it already.  Sheesh, it’s only been a few years, not like I’m one of those spinsters sitting at home on my shelf with a million cats… oh, wait. Shuddup!

I will admit, there have been one or two changes.  For one, I’m shaving my legs a lot more than I used to.  Also – he’s pretty A-type and likes to plan ahead.  So not me, as you all know.  The other day I found myself making arrangements THREE MONTHS IN ADVANCE! Unheard of, really.  Also – I now have a planner / calendar thingie.  And its amazing how quick these things tend to fill up when they’re not just pouring out of the sphincter that is my sometimes brain.  Like, for instance - we have something planned at least one day every weekend for the next couple of weeks.  Which helped me when I wanted to suddenly book a ticket to Durban next weekend.  Who would’ve thought being whoreganised would actually be useful?!

So anyway – whats next? It’s officially official and stuff, but apparently its not until Facebook says so.  Eeek! Haven’t done that in years.  And the last time I did the dude died the next day.  Don’t wanna jinks this one.  I’m quite fond of him really, it would suck a lot if he went the same way…

As an aside – I’m curious:  what’s the most awesomest thing to ever happen to you romantically?  Tell me your secrets, guys. You can find conveniently placed barf bags under your seats, compliments of SheBee Unsingled Inc.  And, go!

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Voicemail message goes off.  Dial 121.  Listen.  Wee with laughter:

11 year old Wokkie, my babiest brother:

SHEEN! SHEEN?!  It’s your voicemail thingie isn’t it? Oh no.  Please call me back I have to tell you somethingitsreallyimportantyoucallmeback!

In the background I hear my moms voice: Warrick! What are you doing? I’ve just bought you that bloody airtime, stop wasting it!

Wokkie: MOM! I have to tell Sheen something urgently, man.  Right now, but she’s not answering.  I bet you she’s forgotten her phone on silent again.

Mom: Put the phone down so she can call you back, chop.

CLICK! BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEP – Your call has been placed on hold – BEEEEEEP.

Wok: -the heck have I done now? Hello? Hello, SHEENA? Can you call me back please.  It’s Warrick Ross, your brother.

*click*

The urgency? He’d spoken to the Chubb security neighbourhood officer who’d heard that I’d moved to Phlegmteng and terrorised my poor youngest sibling to the point of tears with that stupid Urban Legend.  Apparently its a new gang initiation to drive with your lights off and as soon as someone flashes them, they get followed and beaten to death.

By the time I’d called Wok back, he was beside himself with worry.  I’ve now promised to never drive with my lights off, and he made me promise to also tell everyone i know here.  So there you have it, you’ve been warned.

Other than that, all is well in Sheena Land.  I am still walking around vomiting rainbows and fairy dust.  How are you?

Stop chasing the challenge, embrace the dream*…

The birthday bitches.

My belly is aching as I type this.  It’s been 72 hours of absolute laughter , mirth and merriment.  It’s amazing how you tend to take for granted the awesome people human beings can be, or at least until you spend time one on one with them.

Friday night consisted of me cooking for my two Hoburg boys, who were over to meet my bff Flea who flew into Gauteng, the province that shuddered at her sheer awesomeness as she touched down on Jozi soil via means of a green metal bird in the sky. Much wine was consumed and I served nutterbut and made sure the cooken was chicked.  Yes, that is a direct line.

Loving my Flea.

Saturday was pure joy for me.  It started with kisses on my cheek, a soft voice carrying me into consciousness with a smile on my face, followed by threats of death from Flea in the lounge screaming if I didn’t “get out of bed right this instant! You’re not sixteen anymore damnit, wake up!”.  After I finally got kicked out of my linen  found it in me to get up, we met up with an entire crew along with 8unni, who shared in celebration for her 27^th.

One quarter of the crowd. Our watering hole kept liquidised by Cath, Anglug and Flea in between the rollercoaster visits.

I was 12 years old again – I laughed, I screamed, I hid my head in an armpit when the rides got scary, I tripped, licked someone else’s ice cream and sat with my fantastic friends and soaked up the sun with alcoholic beverages.  I remember sitting at the table of fifty million of us, looking around with a smile on my face:  these people carry me through this life change I have in motion.

Anglug. My favourite couple of awesomeness.

That night we met at Primi Lifestyle in Randburg for dinner and drinks.  I remember ordering what sounded like an awesome pizza, but feasted on Tea Pot cocktails, served in a silver tin tea pot, which I drank directly from the spout.  Because I’m classy like that.

Mina ghi tea pottie, short and stout!

I have so many photos.  So much to remember, such beautiful memories of crutch-tripping, drink-spilling and lots of teasing to endure and even more hope that life can only get better from here, and it has.

My Jhb sanity meets my Dbn sanity. Insanity ensues.

For instance, I have a boyfriend.  The forever-single female that is me is no longer single.  And stuff.  And things.

Yes, I have *those* eyes for him. Watch where you puke.

I also have awesome friends.  And family I adore and love, even though I get fifty million phone calls a day questioning my every movement, purely driven by curiosity and a want to be involved from afar.

Divine Angel, truly one of my most special homies.

The Shath - reunited.

*This is a quote from my awesome friend Cath.  Cath, who along with Glugster and Angel, surprised me just as I was getting off The Tower of Terror at Gold Reef City on Saturday, by blind folding me and jumping out unexpectedly.  The bitch, despite speaking to me every day for the last six weeks, kindly declined to mention she and Anglug had plans to make my heart stop and my throat constrict as I screamed my surprise at seeing her in Joburg for my birthday. I cannot tell you how emotional our reunion was.  It was just so unexpected, and so exciting and so wonderful.  My two favourite shorties from KZN, Flea and Cath? Here just for me?  Unreal.

Thank you to all my twitter and facebook friends for the HUNDREDS of smses and calls I received, all of you remembering.  And for the cupcakes and prezzies and love on the actual day too, you know who you all are.  This birthday goes down in the good books, truly one of my most legendary.  Thank you to my Kerri for sharing the limelight – we had such fun, didn’t we 8unni?

The Bee and The Bunny.

Giant vs. Midget

For more photo’s see here (if you’re a facebook friend) and here.  Thank you my Angel – your photography captures all the good moments

I love everyone.  I love my life.  I love my people. 

And now I’m off to go hug a fluffy bunny or something.

The Beginning,

Sheena – A Quarter Century Old.

I have had such a good week. In no particular order, I’ve smiled over these things:

• My birth day is this weekend.  I love my birth days.
• My crazy psychotic cat got herself stuck on the roof beam again.  Thanks Giant, she learnt that from you. I had to climb ontop of my fridge to rescue her.
• My bed has an awesome warm electric blanket thingie.
• It is pink.
• My dude someone boyf man-friend person has made me smile with an hour long phone call every night since I last saw him.
• I don’t know if you know, but it’s my birth day this weekend.  Just saying.
• My best friend forever and ever, Flea, arrives by means of a green plane tomorrow morning.  We will be sans children for the first time in years and we will OWN the farm. 
• My weeekend just started. 
• Right now. 
• I didn’t even get permission. 
• I just made it so.
• Cos I’m hardcore like that.
• Bizatch.

HAPPY BIRTH DAY ME! 

Okthxbi,

See you when I’m big.

Hello darlings…

Here’s the link to the Kiera story I told you about: http://www.female2female.co.za/?p=418.

Much love,

SheBee

Onwards and upwards, a personal growth stint.

We all know that in today’s society the accepted form of communication is via FaceBook, email, twitter or IM clients such as Google Chat, MSN or skype.  And we all know that it’s perfectly acceptable to meet someone either in reality or online, add each other across all forms of social media platforms and stalk the hell out of whoever you’re interested in.  And well all know that in doing these things, you use this form of communication “to get to know each other better”. 

Well, for once, I’m not doing that.  And I’m loving every minute of not doing it.  It’s killing my friend Cath, I’m sure, especially since I’ve always gone straight to her if I need any stalking done.  But this time?  I don’t wanna.  I’m having fun being old school in my getting to know more about this person. It’s fun.  Fun and different.  I don’t know what to expect, or not to expect, for a change – which is liberating.

The interview on The Digital Edge last week went well, aside from there being a bit of lagging on my side, which NATURALLY meant that I spoke at the wrong times always, often cutting the host, Saul Kropman, and the other chickie, Laura Kim off just as they opened their mouths.  Sigh.  I haven’t actually listened to it yet though – have you?  The link is http://tinyurl.com/mg7ms4, go listen to it and tell me if I sound like a dork please?

Speaking of featuring elsewhere, I’ve been asked to write about losing a child.  This at first made me gasp in fear and anxiety, but then I thought about it for a second.  It has been four years since I wrote seriously about how she died, and even then it took me two years to actually let anyone read it.  Publishing Kiera’s story was the catalyst in my healing process.  Considering its been nearly six years since she died, I think its time I look at it again.  The timing seems appropriate too, she would have been 6 on 7^th of September* 2009. 

Stay tuned for the link to the Kiera article, I haven’t written it yet, but as soon as it gets published, you’ll be the first to know.

* Forgive me if I say; SHWOAR! WHAT A MIND FUCK!

There’s this thing, see…

…where I’ve started to compare my life now with my life then, back in the days where I didn’t live here and I lived there. Confused much? Take a number and get in line, buddy.

But on a non serious note – look at the differences I’m experiencing:

DURBAN ROBOTS: have their own resident hobo.  At every single robot.  Complete with individual cardboard art decorium.  For shiz – my favourite hobo on the corner of Manning and Moore used to have techni-coloured chrystanthiums as a border around his “HELP! No money, no woman, no booze!” sign. 

HOBURG ROBOTS: have their own resident Zimbabwean who will sell you his granny if you pay the right price.  Or will offer to wash your car while you’re stopped at the red, with a bucket of murky slime and what could once be identified as a sponge.  The bonus here is that you could also pick up the latest illegal unreleased  dvd’s, blackberry chargers or brightly hued coat hangers and brollies.

DURBAN SCENERY: pretty plastic disregarded take away packets provide some character to the dust on all the building.  Graffitti art will inspire you to rush home and wash your hands, mouth and possibly your mind with Sunlight Liquid Soap.

HOBURG SCENERY: Aside from the gleam of shiny Mercs, BMW’s and Audi’s, you have to wear sunglasses to protect yourself from dangerous afternoon rays just before the sun sets because, damn.  People didn’t lie when they said the sun was brighter here.

DURBAN CASINOS: Grab a bunny chow on your way down Argyle road, marvel at the possibility of so many colours being splashed onto one place and attempt at not allowing your eyeballs to bleed as you avoid making eye contact with the design that is SunCoast Casino.

HOBURG CASINOS: Avoid the many unofficial taxi lanes on your way down William Nicol and gasp in awe that is a kitch version of Tuscany Villas as you enter Monte Casino, where there are clearance sales in the shops EVERYWHERE, not because the shops are going bust, its a clever little retail trick to fool people like me who honestly believe they’re getting a bargain before the masses cotton onto this enormously amazing sale. 

DURBAN MOVIE HOUSES: Get in line for ages to book the ticket, thank the door(wo)man for not breaking your wrist as she frisks you before allowing yourself into Musgrave Cinema, dive for the slush puppy and popcorn, race through to grab a good seat in a cramped cinema.  Feel unbelievable lucky if you got the cinema that has working sound and no holes in the chair and if you didn’t have to kick an Indian couple in the privates for copulating in the row right in front of you. 

HOBURG MOVIE HOUSES: Walk straight passed the queue, do not pass go, collect R200.  Or, print out your already booked movie tickets in a second, waltz past the snacks counter just before you’re greeted with a smile and an “enjoy your movie, you two” as you walk into THE BIGGEST MOVIE CINEMA OF EVER, sink into the gigantic cushioned chairs imported from spaceships the galaxy over (I’m convinced of it) and be amazed at the enormous screen before you and sound that vibrates in your bones.

DURBAN BOYS:  ask you if you wanna hang out at the beach and watch them catch a wave, maybe.  If the surf is good you might get lucky and have a beer chucked at you in celebration. If you spend longer than 3 hours together its unspoken that sex is expected. In most cases*.

HOBURG BOYS:  take you to dinner, open your car door, argue over why you shouldn’t pay for anything, make good conversation, laugh at your silly antics, drop you off at home and not hump your leg.

*  That’s my disclaimer. I said in most cases. Don’t hate me damnit.

PS: will be live on The Digital Edge podcast this week – any specific shout out’s you guys want me to do? The topic is this blog.

I heart boys. And my animals. And you.

Catching up with Cath on Sunday at her place of awesomeness was just fantastic – I’ve missed her so much.  And within seconds I had to use her bathroom with the door open, for old times sake, while she chatted to me and we gossiped and caught up and laughed and cried and sang and sat outside and reminisced*** of days when Cath would spell check my writing, remote karaoke and buying milk. She also pointed out how we’re both living our dreams of last year this time. We always knew we were awesome, Cathcath, now we’re proving it  I told you! I told you that night of the laundry fight**** we would get over the beans on toast phase and sit and laugh over wine.  And what have we just done this weekend?

Life is great at the moment.  I have made wonderful friends here in Hoburg, work sucks but I’ve started a new business*, settling down into my routine and generally just feeling like I’ve found my path.

I must be growing up** because I shocked Cath into speechlessness on Sunday when I told her, sunning ourselves on beach chairs in her back garden, of my 1 year plan.  Yes, I know its meant to be a 5 year plan but jaysus – give me a break here okay, I’m taking baby steps.

This passed weekend was absolutely phenomenal! The roadtrip there and back was (and I’m paraphrasing from Jon here) “one of the better highlights”.  It’s amazing how pleasantly surprised you can be by book covers, thats all I’m saying. On Friday I had to wake up at 4am because naturally I hadn’t packed for the Durban trip.  Only problem?  I woke up without electricity.  Picture me running around my house by candlelight furiously trying to find underwear and phone chargers.  I eventually gave up on the luggage story, grabbed my handbag and jumped into the car.  It was still frigging dark half way to Durban man! That’s not natural!

As we arrived in my home city, I felt myself physically start to relax.  Spending time with my friends was so missed and so, so, so appreciated and enjoyed.  Seh and Kords, Danny, Flea & Cath just made me remember why I was doing this whole Joburg thing.  I have to, for me, and they get that.

Catching up with Cath on Sunday at her place of awesomeness was just fantastic – I’ve missed her so much.  And within seconds I had to use her bathroom with the door open, for old times sake, while she chatted to me and we gossiped and caught up and laughed and cried and sang and sat outside and reminisced*** of days when Cath would spell check my writing, remote karaoke and buying milk. She also pointed out how we’re both living our dreams of last year this time. We always knew we were awesome, Cathcath, now we’re proving it  I told you! I told you that night of the laundry fight**** we would get over the beans on toast phase and sit and laugh over wine.  And what have we just done this weekend?

My family is doing so well.  Mom has all of a sudden just boomed with business, her salon makes me so proud.  She decided in her 40′s that she didn’t want to be in car sales anymore and did something about her love – making others feel better.  Her clients are fantastic and have given her this new lease on life where she’s healthy, happy and so inspiring to me.  Kev still thinks he’s 18 and is suffering from gout and severe man flu mixed with a bit of hungoveritis from Dazz’s 21st a week ago.

My brothers.  Sigh.  God I love them.  If I was only put on this earth to submit to the role of being eldest sibling to my brothers and sisters I would die a happy girl.  Dazz has his first girlfriend.  She’s perfect for him.  Brand is independant! Driving his car and my mother absolutely insane.  He’s almost ready to go back to the force and I still look at him in awe and with pride like I’ve never experienced in my existance ever.  Wokkie is funny as hell, he is loving school and growing up so quickly.

I have to tell you  - I took him to Dog Training on Saturday and DIED laughing.  My little baby brother has the worlds most UNDISCIPLINED DOG EVER! He was ostracised to the outer skirts of the field where they had to run laps in order to calm his dog, Rocky, down.  The treats you’re meant to give out for good tricks pulled off where devoured in five minutes flat just to keep the stupid dog from chewing off his own neck in order to get out of the leash.  And when he sniffed a girl dog he wanted to hump?  I was finished! Wok had to literally tackle the dog and was dragged across the field! I’m wiping tears thinking about it right now, it was hilarious.

I’ve realised something.  I’m broke, car-less, career-blocked at the moment and far away from everything I’ve ever been familiar with but I’m happy.  I’m happy*****! It’s about frikking time!

*Supplying organic household cleaning products, hygenic body goodies, cookies and candies and not so organic (but very cheap) domestic cleaning agents in bulk to hotels, bed and breakfasteseses and individuals who care for them.

** Quarter of a century I’ll be in two weeks, bitches.  Hectique.

*** Totally had to sms Cath and ask how to spell that word.

**** LOL! Don’t ever argue with Cath over laundry – it was our one and only door-slamming fight! Leave the Domesticath to Cath, its termed that way for a reason!

***** No mom, not happier than when I’m with you.  You’re my favourite happy.  Smooches!

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.

Know what that means?  It’s “The Fear of Long Words”.  I mean, why not kick a man when he’s down, right?  The dude is already scared of big words (snigger – what a pussy) but that’s not enough, oh no - the English lords had to taunt him further by giving his one of the longest, most unpronounceable terms in the history of ever.  Just because they thought it would be funny*.  Assholes.

Went into the pharmacy the other day, for a friend, to pick up a pregnancy test.  With a queue of old ducks behind me, I whispered to the chickie behind the counter to please fetch me one of those home kits.  Of course nature would have it that she had to repeat what I’d asked for, on the top of her voice.  Dying, I look over my shoulder to see the coffin dodger behind me scowling, trying to make out if there was a ring on my finger. “Look, Mrs, its not for me okay, its for my friend” I declare. 

Just as I turn back to the front, the pharmacist comes forward with the foul object to be purchased in hand.  Now, a) when did these okes start getting so godamned young?,  and b) so fucking good looking? Awkward… Once he reached his final destination, in front of me, he raises his head in time with his hand holding the pregnancy test and clears his throat: “Right, now, this particular brand is what I like to call “mid-stream” okay, which means that you need to sit on the toilet, let yourself release for a few seconds and only then stick the stick under the strea-” “WAIT! IT’S NOT FOR ME! IT WON’T BE MY WEE! I DON’T HAVE SEX! WITH ANYONE!” I hastily interrupt him only to recieve a cynical frown in response and his eyes practically screaming “Yeah, suuuuuuure it’s not for you, skanky ho, I totally believe you, NOT!”.  Eventually the stupid good looking pharmacist ends his personal brand of torture by handing the cashier the pregnancy test and mumbling about why young women should really learn a bit more about safe sexual intercourse.  Fuck me, I wanted to die.   

The worst part?  The stick was a dud! My mate had no result – so guess who had to go right back into the chemist and ask for another brand?  I took three, just in case.  I wasn’t risking having to go back to that place again – I’d rather have invited maggots to happily settle under my eyelids before going back to that judging pharmacist again in one day.

So that’s what I have to say about THAT!

Am going on a biking camping trip with my brothers and their mates this weekend.  It’s tradition.  We go every year – its the one weekend dedicated to all the siblings (minus Ash-bash in Oz**) where we just chill, freeze our asses off and catch up on whats going on in each others lives.  I’m really looking forward to getting off the farm and out of Phlegmteng for a weekend.  My mate John and I are driving up to Durbs early Friday morning (good god – he wants me out of bed and ready at 5am, is this possible even?) and driving back late Sunday afternoon – what fun!  I love road trips!

* Look, I giggled like hell about it, so maybe it’s just me.

** Soon to be rectified – have I told you yet?  My dad and step momma have decided they’re done in Australia and are immigrating back home to SA!  Best part?  My little sis has decided she’s going to move near me! October cannot come soon enough, I’m so deathly excited to have my whole family back on one continent