Crying for dummies: I don’t know the answer.

Things are pretty much up shit creek and I am without a paddle.  I know that you’ll probably be thinking what the fuck? She’s been bleating on and on about how great her life is! And yeah, I have been.  And it has been.  Except lately, my view of it has been tainted.  It’s not that I am ungrateful for the things I’ve been given, or the opportunities I’ve taken or the people I’m allowed to love, but it’s about the fact that everytime I’ve found myself happy in general, the universe decides to throw me a fucked up situation just to remind me that I’m alive, that I’m being challenged, that I’m (and I hate to say this) too happy.

I get it, Universe.  Nothing should be easy for me.  Fine.  But honestly? Fuck you. In your eye the most.

I’m without a job.  Again.  And this time, I didn’t just wake up at the last minute, I’ve been applying for positions for the last two months.  I’ve been sending my CV out to every relevant company, agency & contact I have in the industry.  The outcome is unknown.  The cause and effects of me not having anything to come back to after the holiday season is frightning.

My personal life.  God, what a mess.  From being on top of the world, I feel like the ball has rolled and landed up on top of me.

I need to cry.  I need to be a girl and sob like a baby, but the thing is – I’ve taught myself so well to not cry, I don’t even know how anymore.  I even practiced in the mirror last night.  Stood there like a loon and pulled the ugly cry face.  Had slit-wrist music blaring and thought about AIDS-infected children in Somalia and dead puppies.  Imagined myself with no legs.  Pretended I was homeless and living in a cardboard box.  Pulled some more ugly faces.  Pinched myself a few times.  Made the crying sounds.  Nothing.  Nothing works.  I don’t know how to cry.

Of all the things I’ve failed at recently, I’ve failed myself at the ability to snot and tear up.  It’s a sad day when a girl can’t wee through her eyes, people.

Fuck.

I’m very excited

to announce that Nerd Mag is back in business

We’re totally proud to now be affiliated with Moral Fibre magazine, who kindly invited Nerd Mag to join forces.

Please follow this link to see our new look!

click for bigger image

FAIL!

So I’m sitting at Jon’s house, right next to him while he’s playing his WoW game.  I’m doing some much over-due work.  But I’m thirsty.  My fanta grape won’t open, the lid is too tight.  I asked him to open it for me and then…..

….

……..

NOTHING!

So I sent him this:

Click for bigger image!

He just read it.  He’s purple. 2nd place to an online WoW game?  ”But it’s timed!” he says… I dunno hey, I think this deserves a special kind of make up favour.  The sexual kind.

Just a quick something for those of you wondering about Nedbank

I wrote a post on Moral Fibre about how impressed I am with them.

Go read here.

It’s Merry Kissmyarse time…

and with that, comes gift giving.  So, to announce the winner of my R250 Kalahari gift voucher giveaway, I will do the following:

1. Take a deep breath
2. Clear my throat like this: “AHEM!”
3. Open up the envelope (pronounced: onnn-va-lope)
4. Squeal like a girl
5. Take another deep breath
6. And say, breathlessly, the winner is…….
7. *drum roll occurs*
8. CC!

WELL DONE!  I’m sure it was very taxing to write that comment and I’m pretty sure a child in Siberia starved while you took the time to sit at your computer and write it all out for me.  We here at SheBee.co.za take into consideration the effort, blood, sweat & tears it must have taken for it to all happen.  So take this gift, rub it all over your body and then keep reading my blog when you’re done.

In other news, Being Brazen is running a compo too.  She does this often though, but this particular one is my favourite so far.  Because I’ve just bought myself a MacBook and really need a new laptop bag, I’m entering by typing out this here sentence.

Etsy have some pretty cool stuff, yo.  Another thing I liked is this.  Oh my word, yummy.

Anyway, pop over to BB’s blog and enter for yourself

Nonpooh & distroofs about da troof.

Some of the freelance writing I do involves transcription work for my company, but paid as overtime.  One of the current projects I’m working on involve Life logs.

The kind where people are paid to write hourly reports on what they are currently doing (obviously not including logging “I’m writing this report” because that would just be silly. Kinda like when you speak to someone online and you ask them what they’re doing and the answer is: “I’m speaking to you”.  I mean honestly- harvest a brain, dumbass).  Anyway.  So people are logging their hourly events, right.  And my job is to decipher what they’re actually doing when they say:

11:00am Went to visit my friend

12:00pm Just hanging out with him at his place

Now, I dunno about you – but to me that just reeks of bullshit.  She says “just hanging out” but what she really meant was “oh nothing, he just whipped out his willy.  I’m going to go inspect it.  Orally. Maybe make a cuppa tea after”.

Anyway.  Deciphering and analyzing, that’s my job.  And then rewriting the words.

20:06pm I’m just wondering if it’s only me who has such a filthy minded thought process [read: I know you all do too, you dirty mo’fo’s. I’m just not afraid to admit it.]

Update on the hypothetical pooh situation (or non-pooh, as it were): found the problem! It’s the fokken instant oats I chow every morning!  Apparently, according to my intelligent and wise little housemate, it’s known to cause… er… blockage.  No more Oatee’s for me!  I’m going to try my hand at Super K.  With like, flaxseed oils and nuts or something.  Maybe chuck in some Vitamin E oils and seeds.  Worth a try, right?  At the very least at least my skin will benefit from it.

I may walk around like a duck and have constipation looks all over my face, but by God my skin will be BEAUTIFUL!

Today, I’m sad.

Today, I’m sad.  Because of the loss.  Because of the anger.  Because of memories so casually tossed away.  I know that I have moved on, but should that necessarily mean I need to forget?  I really hope I don’t.

Today, I’m sad that I can’t just pick up the phone and sms a lame joke to  you.  I’m sad that when we visit the waterfall, for the first time ever, you won’t be there to dive bomb me and call me a pansy for being afraid of the fish.  Today, I’m sad that your mom is in such a bad and scary, lonely place without you.

Today, I’m sad that your best friend is an empty shell not having your guidance and Einstein’s way of sarcasm to get him right.

Today, I still can’t look at that playstation game without hearing your dad shouting at you for showing me such gory blood scenes all those years ago.

Today, I can see your face in my mind and I know.  I know that I miss you my far-away friend who will never be forgotten.

Today, I’m sad.  I wish you were here to moan at me for wearing my South Coast Hoodie and not the guess ones that always smelled of your cologne.

Today, I’m remembering you.  My Carrot.  My bone-head brother.

A wee bit of an issue…

I woke up the other day to a raging pain in my ass.  Literally.  Now, I’m no stranger to pains in the ass what with having to wrestle the maid in order to do my laundry, or growing up with 5 younger siblings.  But a literal pain in my ass is, well, a pain in the ass.

I rolled out of bed much like one would when one’s bottom is on fire and cautiously made my way to the loo in order to have a reverse look at the back side of my backside, thinking that maybe something had journeyed its way into the brown eyed speckled freckle.  But nothing was there.  It was only when I found myself heaving like a mother trucker and doubled over with pain to my abdomen that I had an epiphany.  It hit me like a flash of blinding light on an evening at midnight without electricity: I haven’t poohed in days.

Prepare yourself, dear readers, for I am about to embark on a journey never travelled before on this here blog.

The thing is, see, it’s not that I don’t want to pooh.  It’s not that I don’t even like to pooh.  It’s not even that I just kind of just forgot.  There’s a very, very serious problem at hand that I haven’t spoken to you about before: other than Cath and my mother, I can’t pooh if there is anyone else in the building.  Not even if I know my housemates are upstairs.  Because truly, what if they hear a plop?  What if they know what I’m doing right that very second?

So imagine then, my absolute horror if there’s anyone else around.  Specifically, Jon.  Or worse, if I’m at his house.  Plus, I’ve had Tiff staying over, haven’t I?  It’s a bit of a sticky situation guys.  It’s shit! [Every single letter of that pun was intended, by the way.]  Anyway.  I’m approaching death here, people.  How do I get over this dilemma?

Of course, all of this is completely hypothetical.  Girls don’t pooh.  Unless its little bursts of gas made of rose petals and Coco Chanel No. 5

Two thousand and mine? Fine!

It was with anticipation, hope & determination that I set goals for 2009 last year on December the 30^th.  Here is the exact copy of my New Years resolution:

It’s the second last day of two thousand and eight.  Thank fucking god.  I don’t think I’ve ever made new years resolutions, ever.  So now I’m going to.  And you okes are going to help me stick to them okay?  Feel free to whip out pom-poms at any given time.  Especially when I need you to.  Here goes nothing:

I will obtain a drivers licence.  However, I do not promise this will be done by any legal* means. (Err.  No, this has not happened)

I will be driving my second car. (YAY – upgraded from my stolen blue VW to a silver Peugeot 206 GTI)

I will *not* allow any man to entertain any of my thoughts unless he has done the following: a) shown me his VALID book of identification; b) smelled my hair; c) met one of my real life friends and gotten approval. I will learn to love without having my heart fucking broken again.  If necessary I will do the breaking. (Look, I haven’t broken any hearts, but I have had mine kidnapped by the Jew boy formally known as Jon.  And he’s smelled my hair. Swoon!)

A savings account will be set up so that I may finally take an international holiday.  I’m thinking Perth, Venice or Greece. (as of yesterday, I have an account set up.  The card is beautiful! And I now own my very own larnie garage card.  Go me!)

Act more on impulse.  I overthink things too much and all the good things from 2008 all happened on impulse. (Actually, I changed my mind about this one.  Jon has taught me how to plan ahead and organize my time better, so far so good)

Not stay away from Doctors as much as I have been since Kiera died.  I can’t remain angry at the medical world. (Bleh.  I still hate going to doctors, but do when I have to.  This is an improvement)

I will find a happy song again.  I only keep the sad ones for myself for some reason, this much change. (I have SO many happy songs! Sun in my pocket… Shewolf… The ENTIRE New Moon album, Track 11 of Twilight… all of these make me happy)

My book will be published. Finally. (EPIC FAIL.  I haven’t written on my book for most of this year.  But I started again last week)

Fruit will continue to be a daily intake.  *puke!* (sis! What was I even thinking?! Fruit daily?  Not a fuck)

I’ll read more and go online less. (done! I have a nice balance going on, where I will only allow myself online time during the week and not after 6 unless there’s an emergency.  Also, acquiring a BlackBerry has helped with this – I no longer feel like I’m missing out on whats going on).

I think I’ll stick to ten for now.  New Years tomorrow.  I have so many offers and no real plans.  I’ll see where the wind blows me, I think.  Wherever you are make sure you’re happy, loved and are loving.  Most of all, be safe.  See you on the flip side of Two Thousand and Mine!

So there you have it.  Not too bad for my first attempt at New Years Resolutions, I think.  This year has been crazy.  Crazy, busy, scary, wonderful, change.

Just a small little list of what’s happened:

1. In January, I finished up at my old company and enjoyed the last bit of Summer without a car as it was stolen two days before Christmas
2. In February I flew to Joburg for a weekend, ended up staying a month.
3. In March, my brother Baboo was shot and nearly killed.
4. In April, I hung out at my moms house helping Baboo get back on his feet.
5. In May, I flew back to Joburg for good.  Moved into a farm cottage out in the middle of nowhere and played with horses, geese, monkeys, dogs, cats & birds while attempting to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I also met a strange Jew boy called Jon through my good friend Bergen, but dismissed as “too complicated”
6. In June, I started making friends up here and attending 27 Dinners and tweet up’s.
7. In July, every Friday was Richard and Sheena guitar hero night, sometimes with friends Nick & Vito.  Life was simple, yet boring.
8. In August, I accompanied Jon down to Durban for a mini roadtrip.  Fell arse over kettle in crush with him.
9. In September I announced that after years and years, I had a boyfriend.  I also celebrated what would have been Kiera’s 6^th birthday. And I started working at Submarine Depth Research as a Content & Project Manager on a digital account.
10. In October I spent 6 hours a day commuting to and from work.  I was also very deeply in love.
11. In November I moved from the farm into the gigantic house on the hill with Vince & Talita.  My housemates who I hardly ever bloody see.
12. In December, I sit at this MacBook and wonder how the hell I got so lucky.  Maybe it’s because I’ve put in the hours of bad already and now I can kick back for a while and be left alone to enjoy life.

And enjoying life is exactly what I’m doing.  I should’ve moved here ages ago.  I’ve taken to Joburg life like a duck to water and I’m looking forward to what 2010 can bring for me and those that I love.

2009 was a hectic year, but a necessary one.  I’ve changed I think.  And I must say, I bloody well like it!