30 days in 30 minutes

This is an old post I just found in my drafts.  I think I wrote the first half the day Jon and I moved in together, and finished off the second half a few minutes ago.

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I changed my mind.  Everyone else in the world seems to be doing this blogging thinger where you dedicate 30 days to 30 topics.  We all know I don’t have the attention span to be so brilliant, so I’m gonna answer them all in one blog post.

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself

I take things way too personally.

Day 02 → Something you love about yourself

I don’t stay angry for very long.  I get mad, very mad, but after I’ve processed why I’m mad, I move on.

Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.

Shoowee.  I suppose it’s Kiera’s death day.  Even though I now know she wouldn’t have lived for very much longer, if I hadn’t given her a bath when I did, she wouldn’t have relapsed that very moment, which means she probably wouldn’t have died that day.

Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.

Jon, for shouting at me today when we moved the couch upstairs.  It’s not my fault he stubbed his toe!!!!

Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.

Need to go overseas.  Serious.  I’ve never been.

Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.

Uh… bury another kid? That’d be uncool in the very biggest degree.

Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living.

My brothers and sisters.  They’ve made me laugh and held my hand when I needed it, and even when I didn’t.

Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you badly.

Kiera’s dad.

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

Kimbo.  We used to be so close, but because of a few issues and me not really making the effort to keep the friendship alive, it’s over.

Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

Sheesh.  This is pretty personal.  I need to let go someone who has been around for longer than most other people.  But it’s hard, and I still don’t know why I’m so upset about just moving on.

Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Public speaking – although I only do it for the love of having all attention on me, I’ve never really explored it further.  Maybe I should since I usually get a great response whenever I talk in front of a crowd.

Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.

My awesome driving skillz.

Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days.

Snow Patrol, Tracy Chapman, Glee Club.  Yes, Glee Club, I said it, what?

Day 14 → A hero that has let you down.

Meh, I don’t want to write about this.

Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.

My mom.  Not that I’ve tried living without her, but now that she lives so close to me again, I’m not sure how I coped with not seeing her for months on end.  I love my mom, she’s awesome. Chocolate, smokes, Jon & my family.

Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Back fat Sally, Tina the talking tummy, Tessa & Theresa the thunder thighs.

Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.

Anne Rice’s books, all of them.  She opened my eyes to all things supernatural, fictional or otherwise.  I love that genre now.

Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.

Marriage as a whole used to freak me out.  But now I’m cool with it.  For me, it doesn’t matter if you’re gay, bi, straight or imaginary, if you want to get married, get married.  Who am I to have an opinion?

Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?

They exist.

Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.

Been there, done that, burnt the t-shirt.  I don’t think either of them are very good for anyone who takes part in excess.  I’ll have a drink or two every now and again but I will never get involved in hardcore drugs because I’ve seen the people who are hurt by users.  It’s not cool, it’s not fun and it’s not a good idea.

Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

What a kak scenario.  I’d rush to the hospital if I could, or book a flight to get there as soon as possible if I couldn’t be there immediately.

Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.

I really regret a lot of things in life, but wishing them away would mean denying who I am today, and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  I am strong.

Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.

I wish that I’d made a bigger effort to go overseas when I had all the time to do it.  Now, if I do go abroad, I’ll only be able to do it in a leave period, which isn’t very long.

Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs.

Alanis Morissette – In Praise of the Vulnerable Man – for Cath to remind her that this too shall pass

Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.

Being alive is underrated.  It’s so easy to get bogged down by all the bullshit, so many people forget that being alive is awesome.  I believe I’ve made choices that have kept me breathing in order to do something amazing eventually.  What that amazing thing is, I don’t quite know yet.  But it’ll come to me eventually.

Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

I had a moment once.  But it was a moment and it passed and I’ve never truly considered giving up seriously.  Suicide is a selfish and horrible thing leaving a quake in your wake.  I didn’t intend to rhyme there, but I’m leaving it.

Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?

I am in love with my career, home, relationship & family.  Everything is going well, I am very lucky and eternally grateful.

Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

If I got someone pregnant I would kak in my pants!  And then I’d alert the media because, damn, I’d go viral.

Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.

Sigh.  My bohdi.  Stummak een, chest out!

Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

Dear Sheena,

Live every moment, love your loved ones, be faithful, remain grateful, thank strangers and be nice to those who need it.  You’re a survivor.

Love,

Sheena

Things I’ve learnt in my last year of life.

Humphry Bumphry tooo meeee!

So I’ve just turned another year older.  I was awoken this morning with a shower of pressies, tweets & bookface loving. It was awesome.

Saturday’s lunch with friends was divine.  I was spoilt rotten with love and presents and flowers and tequila.  I wish it was my birthday everyday!  Thank you so much to everyone, I’m overwhelmed with attention (and loving every minute of it).

I feel like I should be imparting strong words of wisdom, because I don’t think I’ve ever had a year of growth like I did with this last one.  So, here’s some of the things I live by these days:

1. This too shall pass. Applicable to only the bad things, right?  Because the good things?  We like those…
2. It gets better. And it really does, with time, perseverance & hard work.
3. Friends don’t let friends drive drunk. Or swim drunk.  Or do anything fucking stupid, while drunk.  Life is too short!
4. Cooking up a storm in the kitchen with Jon on the other side of the counter pouring a glass of wine cures even the heaviest of heavy days.
5. Cake should totally be eaten for breakfast whenever possible.
6. You can’t fix everyone, or every thing. Sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away and hope for the best.
7. Being selfish is necessary for sanity. Putting everyone else first is something not even Mother Theresa did all the time.
8. Work smart, not hard. This is a very recent learning, and one that I’m adapting to with glee.
9. Be awesome instead. Why bother getting nervous?  All it does is psyche you out before you get a chance to be awesome instead.
10. Stay in bed all day at least once a month. Better than a month’s worth of therapy!
11. Love. Don’t be scared, don’t hold back, don’t over-think things.  Just love.
12. Always wear your seat belt.
13. Always trust your mother’s instincts, even when she can’t do it for herself.
14. Plan ahead, even for the things that could go wrong. This is something Jon taught me and the best thing I’ve leart so far in life.
15. Box with brains. In line with ‘pick your battles’, if you must war, war wisely and with caution.
16. Appreciate those who love you. I’ve learnt that time is precious and if someone is willing to give up theirs to be with you, they’re special and deserve appreciation.

I don’t know about you, but I feel smarter.

Thank you to everyone who has contributed to this list, your wisdom and guidance is something I couldn’t go without.

Here’s to another year of learning!

Gloria on missing money.

A few weeks ago I noticed that R700 had gone missing from my jewelry box at home.  It was there on the Sunday, and then gone on Wednesday morning.  Gloria comes on Tuesdays, which is the only time in the week that there was anyone else in our house.  Now, I’ll admit it, I was the first to jump to conclusions and assume she’d stolen the money.  In fact, Jon and I had a bit of an argument about it, because damnit, WHO ELSE COULD IT HAVE BEEN?!

Anyway, I seethed and seethed for about a week and because of the hours Jon and I work, I just didn’t get a chance to speak to Gloria about it.  Until this week.  Jon and I agreed that we would not accuse her, but instead ask her if she’d seen the money at all and to try help us look for it in the hopes that it would mysteriously reappear, but to no avail.

I arrived home early and walked into the house which was wide open and unlocked, and freezing.  It’d been snowing just up the road, so you can only imagine just how cold it was inside the house now that all the doors and windows were open with the air gaily flowing in and about.  Our cats had decided it was warmer inside the duvet cover of my bed, and I only realised this because when I came in, I went straight to the bedroom and flung myself on the bed in frustration… right on top of Pixel who screeched like a girl being murdered.

Having closed up the house, put on the heated bed blankets and called for Gloria a few times, I made peace with the fact that she’d skipped town and found a new job (one can only wish!) so I stripped down to my undies, put on Jon’s big hoodie, some socks and slippers and skipped through to the kitchen to make some tea.  As I bent over into the pantry in search of more sugar, Gloria bounded in through the front door, crashing over the Welcome tea table at the entrance and stopped dead in her tracks when she was met by the unsightly scene of my bent over body, ass in the air, and me looking at her upside down through my legs, stopped midway to grabbing the sugar.

“Hello Glo, how are yo–” was interrupted with “Sheentjie, WHY YOU ARE HOME NOW? HOW LONG YOU WAS HERE? Me, I’m just come from Mirium at no. 7, he needed help with the washing”. I explained that I wanted to talk to her about some things and ignored the fact that in the time that we pay for, she’d been “helping” some other domestic with their job instead of doing her own.  Just this weekend Jon and I photographed spider webs so big and scary behind our bedroom trellidoor that you would not believe, it’s not like there isn’t shit to do in our house. I offered Gloria some tea which she quickly accepted, pulled up a chair and sat on the other end of the kitchen counter while I started dusting the things on the kitchen counter and explaining about the money.  As soon as I mentioned the fact that it was R700 in cash, all hope was lost.

Gloria: SEVEN HUNNED RANDS? HAUW! WHERE YOU GOT THAT FROM.  THAT IS MANY MONEY!

Me: Yes, well, remember when I won the hifi?  We won the money at the same time.

Gloria: Yoh, yoh, yoh, God she is love you very much.  Very, very, much.

Me: Yes, thanks. But about the money now–

Gloria: YOU NEVA TELL ME YOU WIN THE MONEY ALSO.  WHY?

Me: Glo, please, I’m trying to tell you I don’t have the money anymore.  It’s not there in the box.  It’s gone.

Gloria: WHY? WHAT YOU DO WITH IT?

Me: Nothing! It was there on Sunday and then on Wednesday morning it wasn’t!

Gloria: Hauw.  Maybe she is Jonathan.

Me: Nope, no, definitely not Jon, I did ask him.

With this going on back and forth I had started repacking the shelves and cleaning out the dishwasher while she sat and sipped her tea and spouted all sorts of scenarios as to where the money could have gone.  Such as the gardeners possibly taking it, the cats eating it (swear to God, she said this) or maybe it was me who just didn’t remember spending the money (I didn’t spend it, trust me) or maybe it was in my car (the money never left the bedroom.  I specifically didn’t touch it for weeks and kind of forgot about it on purpose in order to not spend it).  She then went on to accuse the complex security guards, and then the riffraff that the guards let in on a regular basis and hell, she pretty much blamed every other human in existence besides Colonel Mustard in the Billiard Room with the Candlestick.

Needless to say, I gave her the opportunity to own up, she didn’t.  She did point out (many, many) other disturbing incidences of theft going on in the complex which has me a little nervous which could also be the reason for the money disappearing, but I’m just not sure.

Aside from the fact that I am now nervous as hell because Gloria thinks the Chinese people a few units down are sex slave drivers, the Indians across the circle are hose-pipe thieves and the old lady in front of us is a spy who “STANDS BEHIND THE CURT’ LOOKING, LOOKING, LOOKING ALL DAY LONG AT THE BLACK PEOPLES” I have to assume the money grew legs, leaped out of the jewelry box on its own, fell onto the floor and landed into an invisible vortex somewhere behind the dressing table.

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PS: For those wondering, we cannot fire her.  She’s been with Jon for years and years, is old and has no new prospects and should be retiring soon.  I know we’re being suckered into keeping her.  I know that we have a right to get rid of her after everything she does and does not do, but Jon and I are softies.  And also, as one of this blog’s readers pointed out to me last night (Shout out to Wendy!), Gloria really does make great blog fodder.

It’s my birthday in a week!

If you’re an old reader of mine, you’ll know that besides Christmas time, my birthday turns me into an absolute child.  It’s the one day of the year where everything is about ME.  Jon will argue that there are 364 other days that also subscribe to that premise, but it’s this day where everyone else honors and celebrates life.  My life.

This year is no exception (and neither will the next 50 years be, Jon, just BTW) and at the request of Sassy Sandi, here’s my birthday wish list for this year:

1. iTunes vouchers – I spend way too much money on songs, virtual gifts for the iPad games I’m addicted to, and all the iPhone apps I simply must have right this very minute
2. Massage & facial vouchers – please.
3. Kalahari vouchers – for all the cool things the internetz can bring me
4. Amazon.com vouchers – for my kindle addiction
5. Photography things – I’ve just taken up photography.  Sort of.  As in, I haven’t even started yet but I have a beginner’s point & shoot thinger that I plan on learning about soon.
6. YuppieChef – am in love with this store.  Could buy one of everything!
7. Flowers – Since I no longer associate flowers with death, I am loving Orchids with my whole heart lately.  I have about 4 in the house right now & can’t have enough.
8. Lindt milk chocolate balls – mmmm!
9. Vodacom airtime (yup – I’m still boycotting getting a contract!)
10. Time with the people I like a lot.

Might be a bit of a boring list, but I’ve sat and thought about it, and really, I have everything I need.  So if you’re not up to splashing out on anything above, feel free to donate something to charity instead, please.

xoxo

It’s our 2nd anniversary! Part 2

This is a continuation from my last blog post.  Read the first half here.

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Two nights later, he offered to pick me up to see Harry Potter together.  He remembered that during the road trip I had moaned about no one wanting to see it with me.  I spent hours sprucing up myself with make up and hair and tried on at least seven different out fits before he arrived.  Eventually I settled on a cool outfit with heels, make up, perfume and jewelry to boot!  So not me at all, but this was our first date – I had to impress!  I had to show off my Sheena brochure of awesomeness without flaws or weirdness.  I spent hours laboring over which clothing item said what about me.  I sprayed on four different types of perfume because I couldn’t settle on a scent that said “You want to smell this every day forever and ever.  You want me to have your babies and this scent will totally make it happen”.

When I think back now, I actually want to dig up a die-hole and sit in it with my head hung with embarrassment.  The hilarious part is that I know now, two years later, despite all four of the different perfumes I blasted all over my body, Jon has NO SENSE OF SMELL!  What’s more is that when he arrived, I immediately wanted to bash my head against the wall, because as dressed up as I was, he was totally the opposite.  He arrived in jeans, sneakers and a shirt.  WHAT?!

When he saw me, instead of the all-day-long imagined response he should’ve come out with, he opened up with “Shucks*.  You’re very overdressed.  I feel like a hobo”.

!!!!! Cue death, please !!!!

Jon will tell you now, shamefully, that he had no idea it was a date until he arrived to pick me up.  He also felt like a douche bag because HELLOOOO!  HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW?! Regardless, we had a cool night out.  And I obviously behaved well, because when he dropped me off at home, he also asked if he could take me out again.  On the second night, I wasn’t so cock-sure.  I didn’t know if this was a date thing, or just another night out with a platonic guy.  I was filled with doubt, confusion, insecurity and I didn’t want to overshoot again.  So I dressed down completely and threw on some sneakers, jeans and tied my hair up in a ponytail.

But this time Jon totally knew it was a date.  And yes, you can totally guess it, he picked me up dressed to the nines in formal pants, a button up shirt and smart shoes.  He got out the car and before he could say anything I buried my head in my hands and, just like a lady, opened my mouth a very loud and distinctive “FUCK!”.

[*Shucks - Jon's replacement for any expletive.  He never swore back then, and still doesn't do it often, and even when he does on the odd occasion, he swears like a five year old - with worry, self-doubt and an eye over the shoulder to see if the parents can hear him.  It's one of his most endearing qualities.]

Despite our wardrobe malfunctions, the second date went well too.  So well that on the way back to the farm, my stomach butterflies exploded and vomited all over my liver when Jon reached over and held my hand.

Once I held his hand back, mine hot and sweaty and being held very still, I decided it was now or never.  ”Okay buddy, you just made your move.  And while it’s about time, the next time we go out, let’s coordinate with the dress code because this is just getting ridiculous”.

Today, it’s officially been two years since, and we still coordinate dress codes, laugh like loons at our two “mis-dates” and when he holds my hand I still feel like I did back then; unforgivably lucky, and fiercely in love.

Happy Anniversary, Jon.  You rock my world.

It’s our 2nd anniversary! Part 1

Two and a bit years ago, I met Jon for the first time on a weekend visit up from Durban.  It was in a crowd, and ExMi had dragged me to Cool Runnings for a lunch with friends.  Jon was part of the crowd and had come along with a mutual friend, Bergen.  We chatted a bit here and there, but it wasn’t anything explosive or amazing like you see in the movies.

I mean, look, Jon seemed like a nice guy, but did he blow my mind?  No, not really.  He seemed like he was going through a hectic break up, and more than that, he seemed too decent.   Yes, “too decent”, can you believe that?  I’d been single for four years because I was terrified of finding another bad apple, so I stayed away from the apple tree completely.  And Jon was the total opposite of my type.  For one, he wasn’t a moron.  For two, he seemed stable, secure, semi-sane and altogether normal.

Fast forward a few months and I’d moved up to Joburg and was living out on the farm in the middle of nowhere.  At that stage Bergen and I were both single and spent a lot of time together, with a standing once a week dinner non-date. Continually in conversation he brought up his friend Jon and how perfect he thought we were for each other.  I pooh-poohed his suggestions and laughed them off saying I was quite happily single and totally not interested in a dating opportunity AT. ALL.  And I was, really.  I loved the horses, ducks, geese, dogs and cats I was surrounded with.  I started making a few friends that I saw on the regular.  I was falling in love with Joburg as my new home and writing up a storm.  I was starting to heal from the trauma of dealing with Kiera’s death as well as my brother nearly dying too (he was shot on duty, for those who don’t know).  For the first time in my life, I was wholly responsible for my own entertainment, happiness and peace.  It was wonderful!

Eventually though, the novelty of my new life had started wearing thin and I became home sick.  At dinner with Bergen one night I was moaning about how much I was missing my siblings and Durban in general.  All I wanted was the feel of beach sand between my toes, the sound of my brothers laughing and teasing each other and the warmth of my mom’s embrace.  I missed ‘home’.  I was desperately eager to take a break, just for a few days, and go back to my old life.  Bergen jumped in between my whining and told me that Jon was about to do a road trip to visit a friend in Durban.  Before he’d finished his sentence I was dialing Jon’s number and offering him some company on the road.  He (reluctantly) agreed and a few days later, arrived at my house near 4am in the morning to begin our road trip.

I didn’t know it then, but Jon is very particular about who he spends close proximity with and I wonder what he would do if he knew then what he knows now, would he have a repeat of the trip or drive in the opposite direction, change his number and rock himself to sleep every night?

We’d planned ahead for the inevitable awkward moments of silence and put together lots of road music (Jon) and books (me) in case things got very bad.  Knowing Jon like I know him now, he probably mentally prepared himself for DAYS on end for this trip (Hahahahahaa! He’s so OCD!) which explains why he was so shocked when he arrived and I swung my handbag over my shoulder and hopped into the front seat without any luggage (I had a back up wardrobe back at my mom’s place, and the farm’s electricity had been out all night so I didn’t bother packing anything in the dark but my toothbrush).  I cannot express to you his concern and confusion about me not bringing anything with that didn’t fit into my handbag.  Far too unprepared for his liking!

The road trip was nothing either of us expected.  There were no awkward moments!  Jon, as it turns out, was not the nerdy nerd I thought he was.  We had crap loads in common and we spoke over each other and interrupted sentences to get new ones out, we compared childhoods (I won in the Weird Department) and spoke about our future expectations for relationships, marriage and careers.   Before I knew it, I think I fell in love with him just outside Harrismith somewhere, and I didn’t want the drive to end.  Throughout the weekend my mom teased me about having a faraway look in my eye, and I didn’t realise it then but I pretty much spent the weekend waiting for Jon to pick me up again to go back to Joburg.  By the time he dropped me off, I’d decided that he would be my boyfriend.

[To be continued...]

Competition time with Steri Stumpie!

It’s competition time!

1.  Two years is longer than every other relationship I’ve ever had with a boy

2.  Two years in and not only have I not scared him off, stabbed him or poisoned him with my food, but I’m still as happy and in luuuuuuuurve as I was on day one, if not more

3.  Two years is 24 months which is 730 days, which is 17 520 hours that I’ve been ‘claimed’ by someone, and liked it

4.  Two years shows that I’ve found a good apple and not a bad litchi that uses and abuses

In light of this momentous occasion, I’ve teamed up with the milky guys at Steri Stumpie (because they’re my best drink evar) to hold a competition.  I’ll be giving a few rad little hampers away containing all sorts of Steri goodness and merchandise, and all you need to do is comment on this blog post and tell me about your most amazing accomplishment achieved in less than two years.

Winners will be chosen and announced right here in the comments section on Wednesday 31st August at 3pm.

PS: you can join in on Steri goodness by scootching over to their pages here:

Facebook fan page

Twitter account

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On blogging about dreams about blogging.

Last night I had a vivid dream.  It was so abnormal, I’m not even sure why I remember it in every little detail.

In the dream, I had just arrived at a tweet-up and was talking to a skinny little asshole with blonde hair and small boobs.  She opened her mouth when I introduced myself and closed it again, biting down on her lip.  I looked at her probing for her to speak, and she said “You know, you should really, like, warn people that you’re fat.  You don’t come across as a fat person online”.  Well fuck me sideways!  I’m fuming now even thinking about it.

Aside from the obvious things, like the fact that my self esteem about my body is at an all-time low, there are other things portrayed in this dream that I recognize now.  Things that are blindingly obvious if you’ve been one of my blog readers for long enough.  Things like, I don’t know who the fuck I am as a blogger anymore.

It’s easy enough on Facebook, I use that platform to talk to my old school friends, friends abroad and my family members.  I can just be me; Sheena, the old cheerleader from school, the girl who bunked out to (pretend to, I could never really inhale it properly without near vomitation) smoke weed in the bushes with her then 24 year old boyfriend.  Sheena, the loudest girl in class, the one who sassed the teachers, fell pregnant at 17, dropped out of school.  Sheena the oldest sibling, the only biological daughter.  The black sheep but much-loved one in the family.

On Twitter, I portray a slightly more professional, held back version of me, always conscious that anyone from my MD, ex boss or other industry types could see any one of my tweets.

On my blog, who the hell am I?  I don’t even know anymore.  I used to be the funny girl from the South Coast.  But then that girl lost her daughter, moved homes a bunch of times and ended up halfway across the country heading up a social media department in South Africa’s largest digital agency group.  Of course, I also have a permanent fixture in my life otherwise known as my other half named Jon.  He’s quite a vital change too.

Despite that, I have changed and I get that.  Some good things, some not so good.  I feel like I’ve lost my funny.  I feel like I can’t be as personal as I used to be.  I also feel like I need to have a blogging angle, but I’m not sure which angle I should be taking.

But it’s not the end of the world and despite having doubts, blogging has been and always will be, for me.  You readers are just an added bonus of fluffy warm feelings in and around my blogging insecurity and angst.

After all, as I said to the blonde asshole in my dream last night; “I am more than my fat.  My fat has been places with me, okay.  And if I’m not what you expected, it’s probably because I’m more than you expected, but in a different way you didn’t know you even thought of.  Also, fuck you, I’m awesome”.

And then I woke up, turned around and smiled at Jon’s hand on my boob without him knowing, closed my eyes and thanked God, the universe and everything in between for changing my life.  Because it might not be what people expect, but it’s perfect for me.

So yeah.  There.