I can’t believe I’m actually here, typing this.

Last night at about 11pm I had a sudden onslaught of abdomen pain like I have never felt before in my life time.  It had me doubling over and gripping the sheets, trying to ride it out.

Only, the “ride it out” part still hadn’t happened some 8 minutes later.  A piercing pain in my abdomen longer than 8 minutes?  I’m sorry – but when did I go in to labour again?

While mentally ticking off which of my items would go to who when I died, I simultaneously listed the various things I’d contracted in the last half an hour, intel kindly provided via Google:

1. cancer
2. gallstones
3. appendacitis
   
4. pancreatis
5. Irritable Bowel Syndrome (more like “INFURIATED”, but anyway)
   
6. Spastic colon
   

By this time I had already wrapped a scarf around my neck and put on my fluffy slippers in preparation for a hospital trip.  The only thing keeping me was waking anyone up – I felt terrible.  I kept thinking, if I can wait fifteen more minutes, it’ll give them that much more sleep.

After reminding myself that no one should ever, under any circumstances, Google their symptoms, I decided to physically walk the pain out.  Trying to keep my mind off of it.  About an hour of pacing up and down my room like Qausimodo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, reassuring my worried cats (I’m sure it had nothing to do with the open packet of Gourmet chicken cat food laying on my side table) deciding to and then chickening out of waking my housemates to take me to the hospital, as suddenly as it had appeared, so the searing pain stopped.

I was left thinking it had all been in my imagination.  I felt like a right fool.  And then I remembered that it was okay, no one had seen me – no one knew my shame.  Which is when I decided to blog about it, immediately.

Honestly, I prepared myself to die last night. I’m really glad I didn’t.

Test Post From BlogDesk

In order to save me some time when blogging, I downloaded this cool little app thingie. I will now upload an image of utter seriousness to see if this thing works, as well as tag this post in a few random categories. I’d appreciate your feedback of my awesomeness soonest.

Cats are being picked up on Sunday, btw. Awwwww. I’m going to be so bleak without the little shits.

Also, I have 4 up-coming late nights and I’m shitting meself. I’m old(ish) you know… I can’t be doing these things anymore.

Okay. ‘Till later. Luff you.

With everything good going on…

I’m still jealous of the bad that isn’t.   It should’ve been me, man.  Why does nobody else realise this?  GAH!

QOTD:  Your visionz.  I don’t wantz dem.

In other news:

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Hahahaha!  God these okes kill me.  Pure genius.  Check how bummed the grandkid is in his eyes, but with a mouth full of chewed on steak.

And this one:

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Needs no words, brother.

Sheen Meme

I’m lazy as all hell today, my interwebz are fuxored and I’ve done far too much work to allow me some creative juices a flow, so here’s a meme I copied off an email.  Bite me:

* Two names you go by:  

1.       Sheen

2.       Sheebs

*Two things you wearing right now: 

1.         Multi coloured, low cut poka dot shirt

2.         Silver sandals

* Two things you want very badly at the moment: 

1.        My pasta to auto-magically warm itself up so I don’t need to trek to the kitchen

2.        Those papers to come together. I need to know man!
 

Two things you did last night: (significant)  

1.             Bent myself into a pretzel at Yoga

 2.           Had a few toots with the girls

* Two things you ate today  

1.            Nothing

2.            Yet  
 

* Two people you last spoke to:  

1.           A male collegue with a sexy voice.  

 
2.           Cath. We bitched and moaned and threw a tantrum or two.

*Two things you’re doing this weekend: 
   

1.          Sleeping in like  a motherbitch, I’m still trying to recover from my bday weekend.

2.          Eating some form of meat, I need protein, feeling anaemic.  Aneamic. Aneeemick.  The thing where you have not enough blood and your eyes are dark.  Ja, that thing.

Two longest car rides:  

1.      Sheppie to Hermanus then Pilansberg

2.      Cape Town to Mozambique

    
Two favorite beverages: 

1.             Very sweet tea or hot chocolate with just water

2.             Coke 

I tag everyone who reads this. Don’t try sneak out the back, I saw you, Bitch! Yes – even you! Sit down.

THANK SOMEBODY’S GOD / ALLAH / MARY / BUDDAH / KRISHNA & MOSES IT IS FRIDAY!

momentum lost

I totally had an emo post for today, but I lost momentum along the way.

I miss my friends.  Flea, Britt, Shar, Tiff & Kimbo, I miss you.

So, get ready for my birthday bitches – its going to be LARGE.

In other news, I have none.  Hump day today, right?  Yay – bring on Friday!

My flatmate calls it a small case of spontaneous internal combustion

You know its going to be a bad day when:

• your alarm only goes off at 7:35am
• the shower switches from ice cold freeze-motherbitch to fuck-off hot
• you bang your head on the wall when the soap slips out your hand
• you run out of shampoo half way through washing your hair
• you forget its Gladys day and nearly die when the old sweetheart pops up out of nowhere to say hi while you’re drinking milk from the bottle behind the fridge door
• you leave your house keys three floors up and only realize it once you are now in the basement, in the car waiting for the gate to open.  Obviously without the remote it won’t, but now you’re stuck in the undercover parking and can’t get back up the elevator without the magnetic strip on the house keys!
• Gladys’ telephone has automagically deleted itself and you can’t get hold of Cath to ask her to send it.  Finally the old dear hears your shouts from down below and peeps her head over the balcony “Haibo Cheena, what you done now?”.
• Eventually, out of the gate, on the road, stuck in a million car pile up of traffic down Moore Road.  If you don’t know Durban, you wouldn’t know its the longest and busiest road around for a while.  Joy.
• Every robot is red, naturally.
• Thinking to myself:  need to tweet my rage! And yes, you guessed it, the phone won’t cooperate.
• I’m at work now.  35minutes later than usual. 
• The receptionist is off sick, guess who’s on switchboard duty? 

Thats right, bitches.  Kippie the Cotchmistress over here.

You know you’ve had a really rough night…

…when you wake up the next day and your eyes are red, swollen and road mapped. Your nose is more blocked than a sewage pipe and your brain is busier than a brick-layer in Bhagdad.

None of this was due to anything fun, exciting, or intoxication.

I want to go back to bed.

50 things about me

I’m going to try keep them short because, damn, there’s 50 of the bloody things!

1. I’m an avid reader. I love big, thick, erect ones (books, you uncouthe individual!).
2. I don’t drink nearly enough water as I should.
3. Misshaped and incorrect coloured jelly babies amuse me, even though I despise sweets.
4. Other than panado’s I never use conventional medication. I’m a homoeopathy fan.
5. Both my baby fingers are scew.
6. I’m really, really half blind. My one eye is -6 and the other is -12. Without my glasses or contacts, everything further than half a metre is a blur.
7. I’m a freckly fucker. I have the damn things everywhere.
8. My hair is curly by nature. I hate it.
9. I hardly ever verbally swear without being irritated or angry.
10. I never liked girls much when I was younger, all my friends at school were male, barring one or two.
11. I fall in love with difficulty.
12. Once I have fallen, I’m fiercly loyal.
13. My great aunty had an affair, her husband found out and shot the boyfriend, then her, then himself. Fantastic role models they are, those hillbillies.
14. I don’t know anyone in real life that has aids. I wonder if it really is as rife as they say. I know a lot of people.
15. I hate anyone touching my stomache. At all.
16. My back loves attention. Stroke it, rub it, tickle it, stand on it. I don’t mind at all.
17. My first job ever got me into drugs for the first time.
18. The reason I stopped taking them was because I landed in hospital over new years, unconscious.
19. By the age of sixteen, I knew what a hairy gonzales was.
20. I regard some of my greater friends closer to me than most, despite not having met them.
21. I only have two friends who are my age or younger, the rest are much older.
22. If I ever have a son, he will be named Nazareth. Not.
23. 7 is my favourite number – because it rhymes with heaven. How hypocritical of me. It was also Kiera’s birth date.
24. My book really is called ‘If these walls could talk’ and this year is the year it will be published, come hell or high water.
24. I think the name St. John (pronounced Sinjin) is absolutely bloody ridiculous.
25. I love the colour yellow, and one day plan to find the perfect shoe in it.
26. I love music. It speaks to me. I sometimes name it. ‘Andrew song’, ‘NightInToiletStall song’ etc.
27. When I smell lavendar in any form, shape or size I think of my daughter. Every time.
28. The worst thing I have ever eaten was a mushroom. Yuck.
29. Fish freak me out. I’m sure you know this already, but seriously – its getting worse with age.
30. My car is dark blue and I love it, I’m looking for a name, so far I’ve only had one suggestion and it sucked.
31. Ryan Kankowski is my sporting hero and I swoon for him. Dreamy Sigh.
32. The first person I’m sending a copy of my book to will be my English teacher from school. She used to make me fudge. I heart her.
33. I’m a label picker-offer. It annoys everyone around me when we go out. That bullshit about being a virgin if you get the label off the bottle without breaking is so sadly untrue.
34. I can name each person I have ever snogged.
35. I hate the word ‘snogged’. That and ‘kerfoofel’.
36. Right now I am typing this list on my baby brothers bed which has the hulk all over it. Surely that fashion trend is over?
37. My mom and I laugh a lot when we’re together. People stare occassionally.
38. I need a new vibrator. Mine broke.
39. That last one threw ya, admit it.
40. I’ve had back pain for the last 10 years due to illegally jumping off a bridge with my mates.
41. The only family tradition I have is ‘punch-buggy-niggs’ and hearing my birth story once a year, every year.
42. I can click every bone in my body. Its awesome.
43. I have way too much compassion for people, it gets me in trouble often.
44. The game of cricket goes way over my head. A bunch of pricks stand on a field wearing white in the blazing sun, chasing after a tiny ball the colour of an apple and shouting ‘howzAAAAAT’ while rubbing their crotches in between batting?! Yawn inducing!
45. Moths are disgusting creatures. I often find myself asking why they were put on earth. Really, do they even have a purpose other than to annoy the befuckery out of me?
46. My eyelashes are quite longish. If I have mascara on I can’t wear glasses.
47. My five year plan is to be successful enough to want to settle down and start a family without the pressures of finance.
48. Currently, all I have left to my name is my car, a leather lounge suite, a few personal items & my clothes. Fuck it, thats annoying. All that money spent on furnishing my home pissed down the drain because I went and got myself retrenched and had to give up my stuff due to moving.
49. My dream job is to cook 3 days for my own restuarant and write the rest of the week.
50. This list was harder than it looks to type out. You better have read each number!

This tag took me ages!  I won’t name and shame anyone here, but if you decide to do it, link back and let me know.

Fuck it, I’m traumatised.

Jesus.  I hate being a female sometimes.

Today I decided that I have looked like a monkey for long enough, and went to go and replenish my stock of veet.  While in the fem products isle, I grabbed a box of tampax.  You know, just so that I have it handy. 

Just as I turn around, I walk slap bang into a dutchman closely resembling an equal mix of the powerhouse gym freak dog and Vin Diesel, and as luck would naturally have it with all things Sheenafied, the box of tampax flies right into his shopping basket.  Excuse me while I just popmyhandintoyourbasketandgrabmywomanplugs thankyouverymuch, thinks I.  "No wurrrrries chick, I see vose fings all the time wiff ma sister haha" says he.  I turn around and scurry to the till, muttering under my breath, talking myself out of a red flush all over my cheeks "Self," says I, "stop the fucking train, its natural to buy these things, goddamit, don’t blush!"

The Spar manager spots me and comes over to greet his customary greetings and unfortunately says hello right to my tampax box.  His face goes blood red.  ‘Ag shame, I think the manager is embarrassed’ the stupid cashier says to me.  Yeah, no shit, Sherlock bloody Holmes!

In my hurry to get the hell out of there, I drop my car keys and they slide right under the counter.  As I bend down, my skirt gets hooked on a randomly placed screw and tears just as I bump my head on the stupid credit card signing place block type thing that they always have slap bang in the way of where you are trying to pay.

I grabbed my packet of female goodness, slung it over my wrist, one hand bunching up my now torn skirt, the other clutching onto my car keys while rubbing my head, and the entire walk across the parking lot I felt eyes burning into the back of my skull.

Life is so unfair.  Why can’t normal things happen to me? 

I’m never going shopping for woman things again.  Serious.  I will hire someone to go in for me and I will stay safely in the car.  I’m serious. But the good news is, my legs aren’t hairy and monkey like anymore.  Smiley face.