Thgs Tht Ps Me Off But They Realy Shudnt Al Becz Im Nurotik n Mity Irationl Sumtims Espcialy Whn The PMS Sets In n I Hve a Frikn Rash i Cnt Get Rid Of

Nah, just kidding. About writing about things that piss me off I mean. There are just so many I wouldn’t know where to begin. But I wasn’t kidding about the PMS. Or the goddamn STD-looking rash.
Anywayz, this is my last post. Lets just say one or two people got hold of this link and I feel that my writing has gotten severely compromised, defeating its original purpose as a forum to express my self-righteous indignation. Besides, i was begining to feel like I'm a modern day Narcissus. I've finally come to terms with the fact that I will never be a writer. But I’ll always be an avid reader, so to my fav bloggers - Bent, Carrie, Kykie - see ya’ll on your own turf.

With that said, I’ll leave you all with these profound words of wisdom:

Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum sonatur.
(whatever is said in Latin sounds profound)

Laterz.

Looking for the silver lining

My life has reached the pinnacle of boredom. Things cannot possibly get any worse. Well, that’s not entirely true. Just three days ago, I though that was it – I was living the lowest form of existence comparable to that of the common nasal snot. Then I ran out of water. So I thought ok now this must be it. Things can only go up from here. Surely. Please. Then today the power fails. This is not a joke people. I’m living by candle light and showering from water drawn out of a nearby well. All those filthy buckets being dipped into a bottomless cesspool of crap. I don’t think I properly thought things through when I decided to move back home. Really, this was not my idea of the African dream. I’ve always wanted to get in more touch with my roots and learn more about my culture. But frankly I think my patience is wearing thin. I’ll survive the mosquito bites and the lizards I chased out of my house the whole afternoon. I’ll even survive the neighbour that seems to do nothing all day but sit on his balcony waiting for me to walk by so he can throw lecherous looks my way. I’ll survive anything.
But I just can’t take this god damned monotony any longer.

A revelation

In my excitement of having unrestricted Internet at home I eagerly went in search of all the x-rated content I've been so deprived of. But I would just like to take this moment to announce that as of today, I OFFICIALLY HATE PORN. It's just plain disgusting. All that...er...liquid. And all those...um..orifices. Eeewww. I cringe just thinking about that scene i just saw. Yes ladies and gentlemen, believe it or not, from here on out this computer will be porn free.

Thats all.

Photography

Coming to you live...ok not quite live...but coming to you nonetheless - from home! Woopie!. No more freaking office wirewall scrutinizing my every move and restricting my access. I finally got a laptop at work to surf for porn for when i travel and to chat get more work done in my free time. I also got internet at home(broadband my ass...it's lank* slow) so I will be spending less corporate hours goofing about and probably blog more often. Well, at least till I do something about the lack of a TV.

I'm at home. I've got a camera. Lets use it:

That's the little statuette i got over the weekend. I found myself drawn to it for some unknown reason. It was just sitting there all alone in the corner of the curio shop. So alone. I couldn't resist. I think it's cute. What's he sad about? If only i had the presence of mind to ask the guy who sold it to me. These things always have a delightful little story passed down from the creator.

My camera battery just died. These were taken by my phone hence the crappy quality.

Current book I'm reading:

Current CD i'm listening to:

They're both old but pretty new in my collection.
Okay, bored myself enough. Later.

*lank: South African slang for 'extremely'

I'm single and lovin' it

It’s almost that time of the year again. That day when you get reminded of just how alone you are with the subtlety of a sledgehammer on a newborn’s soft spot. Even as you tell anyone who would listen you are fine and definitely don’t need anyone your voice seems hollow and lacks any real conviction.

For some reason I have never dreaded that day like I do this year. It might have something to do with the fact that I no longer care much for the status quo. I’m finally ready to admit I yearn for something more. Something most take for granted but I’ve never experienced before – to feel loved and love unconditionally in return. I want to cast cute puppy eyes upon my loved one as s/he hands me a cheesy, oversized red and white heart-infested undergarment accompanied by a humungous heart-shaped slab of chocolate. I, in turn, will ceremoniously unveil my set of matching heart-shaped pendants engraved with our initials and a large bouquet of red roses for good measure.

But I guess it won’t be this year. This year, like all the ones before it, I will put on a brave face, muster as much conviction as I can infuse into one sentence and purposefully recite my mantra: I’m single and lovin' it.

OMG!!

OMG.
I just freaking found out that you just need to Google my surname and voila I’m sooo outted! Where’s the darn delete button??!!! Google has no delete button!
Note to self: When online, do not, I repeat, DO NOT post your REAL NAME when talking about your controversial sexuality punishable by law with up to 5 years imprisonment. Its not rocket science. Dipshit.

My dad said he was looking for our family members by Googling our surname (not too hard when you are not a Smith or a Jones) and that’s how he read my essay on my agnosticism on a popular atheist/agnostic site (yes dad, sorry you had to find out this way but I really do think your God fucking sucks). I tested it out… and lo and behold right there on page two of the search results was a number of things I’d written once upon a time I would rather my daddy dearest did not cast his eyes upon lest he be blinded or worse, keel over and drop right dead.

So excuse me while I go attempt to edit the Internet.

PS - This article is also mighty interesting...quite the buzz now.

Death and stuff

Some dude drowned infront of my very eyes on Sunday at the beach. One minute he is building sand castles infront of us, 30 mins later some guys are pulling his pale body out of the water - a little too late. Thats only the second corpse I've ever seen close up. The warmest one, thats for sure. I even danced with him at the club on Saturday night. Cute as hell too.
*sigh* Life is but a fleeting glance.
Or something. (Lets pretend i said something profound).

Meanwhile back in the office - work pileth up.
Haven't had a moments breathing space and would've even come to the office over the weekend if one of my neighbours hadnt come up with the brilliant idea of a road trip to a seaside town for the weekend. Speaking of roadtrip, we were on our way back home after the incident above (i mean nobody goes anywhere near the water for the rest of the day after such an event) when we noticed people crowding up by the river to see this little kid not a day over 12 who had apparently drowned 3 days earlier but whose body just washed to shore.

So that's 2 dead people I saw within 2 hours.
Again: Life is but a fleeting glance.

I'm still TV-less. My puzzle is almost done though. There are like 100 sky pieces left and I found a rythm that really works for me so it shouldnt take more than an hour to finish it off. And this is it. No more freaking gazillion piece puzzles. what i need, is a life. (preferably involving one or two hot girlies...)

If you can reminisce that far back you will recall that back at university there were always one or two really weird people. Like that goth chick who you wonder how she ever became your friend. Or the vegan who you could swear lives off water and sunshine coz she doesnt seem to be able to eat anything you offer her. (i actually had a good friend who was vegan, gothic and had this weird stomach illness that eliminated most vegan-friendly dishes, but suprisingly, she wasnt particularly thin).
Anyway, one evening I looked up from my puzzle, saw incense burning, looked down at my bowl of dry cereal - when it dawned on me: I've actually become weirder than those weird chicks.
All i need now is 7 cats.

Um, i once said something or other about quitting smoking.... well, no comment.

Trip was ok. I didnt lose my company money afterall. I guess i was just a little paranoid.
Gotta work now.

Please leave a message after the beep

I'm leaving tonight on a 5 day business trip to Uganda.
This will be is a quickie (mmmmmmmm quickie. Havent had one of those in yonks.) coz my flight leaves in like 3 hours and i still have shit to do before I leave and still need to pack as well and blogging was not supposed to be part of the 'shit to do'.
Hope the trip is cool, coz to tell you the truth I'm getting sick & tired of hotels. Well not really, coz i'd rather go than not go. Lesser of two evils, you know? No? Yeah well i don't know what i'm talking about either.
Plus its for a bi-annual meeting with the superboss (my boss' leash yanker) so i'm not looking forward to it because I would need to account for some suspect underpressure decisions I made during the past week (which by the way was the most horrible and pressure-filled week of my relatively short career) and if i did indeed succumb to a gross miscalculation that would mean i just lost my company a wee bundle to the order of about 5 mil. And i don't mean Yens or New Guinea dollars.

Anwayz i will try not to think the worst and hope I will come out of this smelling like roses and perhaps even get presented with a badge of honour for my brilliant decision making in a time of great personal strife. Oh wait, thats the army. Well a nice pack of paper clips and a shiny new stapler will have to do then.

Must run. See ya'll on the flip side.

Beeeeeeeep

the withdrawal sets in

Its 3:30.
I feel like shit.
I'm stressed and hungry.
Real bad time to quit.
No its not an excuse. I'm just sayin.

I'd be fine now if i'd deliberately opted to not go out on a ciggie break. But when you CANT - hell hath no fury like a scorned lung. I feel so....empty. Bereft of my PREEECIOUSSS. I feel like i could use just one more before i quit. Just one more! Would i blamed if i snagged 1? Just to get me through the rest of this tough day... just one teeny weeeny ciggie? Not even a whole one...how about just one drag? huh? Half a drag?

Looks like its going to be a long long day.

The dawn of a new era

Nah. Nothing that dramatic.
Same ol' me will be doing the same ol' shit.
Unless Monday is considered a 'new era'.
Nevertheless, there will be one or two improvements around here.

For one:

Drumroll please, coz:

TODAY IS THE DAY I QUIT SMOKING.

Yup. Rip off the gas mask and take huge whiff of me as you hum to Kool & the Gang's "she's fresh she's so fresh..."

My fingers WILL twitch, I WILL develop a nervous jerk in withdrawal, but I WILL resist.

To the 'quit somking' industry: if you think you're getting a penny off me with your pills, patches, sprays, gums etc, etc...you can pucker up coz you'll be meeting my ass. There's only 1 drug i need, and thats Determination.

The reason I'm really driven to quit is i can see how its affecting my health. I used to be so active. I was an athlete. Ok i was 10 and won the potato sack race, but still, I was an athlete dammit. And now i can't even bend over to pick up something i dropped without feeling out of breath and hurting like i dislocated my pelvis.

So I'll rejoin the gym tonight.
And throw out the rest of the ice-cream.

I guess this IS a new era afterall.

Still here. Still queer.

I spent the weekend with my mom who lives about an hour's drive away from me. Apparently some woman recently came to see her to negotiate the terms of my betrothal to her son. Yip, I also thought shit like that faded with the dinosaurs. Thankfully mom was simply bemused by the whole affair, especially since I’ve never seen the guy and the woman doesn’t know me from Adam. Good thing my dad is not around coz he’d have taken the whole thing way too seriously.

I would never consider coming out to my mom, much less my dad. They just wouldn’t understand. Hell, I barely understand it myself.

I have nightmares of the two families gathered in the living room, debating my worth in cows and goats as we (the hubby-to-be and I) sit meekly in the corner and watch as the drama unfolds.

Needless to say, my long overdue nervous breakdown looms ever closer. And when I crack, the proverbial shit is bound to hit the fan.

Waaaaay too much info

Happy New Year everyone!

Whoohooooo!
weeeeeeeeee!
wooooooo!
Yeah!
Okay i'm done.

Vac’s over.
Hello mind-numbing daily grind.

Grad
Was exactly as I thought it would be: Zzzzzzzzzzz.
I heard some varsities have choirs and performances and stuff. Nope. Not mine. Just an endless string of names periodically interrupted by the shrieking of a neurotic-but-proud mom because apparently cheering loudly just doesn’t cut it. You’ll find it’s not uncommon during grads in SA. Don’t ask - it’s a cultural thing. My dad even signed up one of ‘em moms to screech when my name was called.

Christmas
Spent Christmas with the family (dad and both brothers) at a friend of my dad’s. Turned out to be even more tedious than grad. I ended up watching soccer on TV the whole time which considerably brightened up my day until one nut job decided the time was ripe to interrupt my viewing in order to show off his musician-wannabe nephew’s homemade music video. At that point I thought maybe I could drink the day into oblivion but my dad made sure I knew he was counting and felt 2 drinks was already 1 too many.

Seems the days when merely mentioning the word ‘Christmas’ around me would erect the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are long gone. The prospect of a mysterious present under my bed hand-delivered by Santa himself and more presents under the Christmas tree from my parents and every one of their friends would unfailingly sprout goose bumps on my arms….ahhh the good ol’ days when Christmas was magical and gifts aplenty. I’m not asking for much, I’d settle for a home cooked family lunch with the entire family playing games and cracking jokes like when we were kids. But I can’t remember the last time the whole family was together for Christmas, and these days even if we are, things are just not the same. Over the last couple of years it has lost its appeal and become a drab affair I have to be subjected to every year.

New Years
Well, judge for yourselves.
On that Eve I was home alone with a bottle of Amarula (SA version of Bailey’s) and a bucket full of weed. I’ve already established I’m a loner but even for me that was a whole new level of lonesomeness. With no friends around and my sortof-girlfriend unreachable, I could either tag along with my dad or hang out with the teenage brothers. Both options were completely unacceptable to I opted to stay in an entertain myself.

However, something quite peculiar did happen earlier that afternoon. Take a seat and lean back coz this one’s a biggie. Before I confess allow me to set the stage to soften the blow in a desperate attempt to regain what was once my dignity:

I was bored.
I had gone through every readable material in the house including the shampoo bottle ingredient label and 'Pippi goes to school' in my little sister's collection. My mind was desperate for some stimulation - any sign that it still had the capacity for activity.
That’s when I decided to touch it - the only book left unread in the entire house. My dad had bought it for my 14-year-old sister a couple months back when she was in SA for holidays. I glanced around furtively to make sure no one was looking before tentatively picking it up and quickly retreating to the depths of my room, bolting the door to conceal my crime.

I confess that from page 2 (after my first audible giggle) I was hooked, and I knew there was no putting it down.
I confess that I now will have to re-watch the flick (which I initially thought was a waste of money even though it was from a cheap video store).
I confess that I will now have to 'accidentally purchase' the others in the series.

Its no use trying.
I have lost all self respect and become one those people I love to hate - Harry Potties.
1 down (Chamber of Secrets). 5 to go.

So my new years eve was spent getting stoned, wasted, reading Harry Potter in the garden while fireworks lit up the sky around me. Alone, while my bros got their freak on in town and my dad and a buddy of his decided to hit an underground club. Rock on daddy! My dad is one those stereotypically British-y formal types, always suited up. The kind of guy you can’t help but call 'Sir' or ‘Mr’. Well I shouldn’t be surprised. I suppose even the pope jams to a little Linkin Park on New Year’s Eve right after his evening Hail Mary recital.

Inbetween

I did get some on my trip though. Got quite a lot of some actually.
She asked me not to blog about her (she's been reading this blog for a while now) but I can't help it. Liv, I’m sorry but you will just have to sue me. We have one of those ‘open’ relationships because I don’t feel the need to commit. We used fight a lot about all kinds of little irrelevant things but I think we really connected on this trip and reached a point where I’m beginning to reconsider our non-exclusivity clause. But even if I decided to go full throttle there's always the distance - Cameroon isn’t exactly a bus ride from SA. Unless I relocate?
Dear Dr Ruth,
How do you know when you are in love? I miss her. I enjoy her company. She makes me laugh. She makes me happy. But the thought of her with someone else does not make me jealous.
So how do you know?
Do you just ‘know’?
Grrrrrr.

Ok nuff of that

In other news

Spent the morning appreciating the ‘new and improved’ Acrobat Reader 7.0. It kicks major butt. No more 5-minute waits for the app to load like in the 5.0 series while every person who has ever contributed to any aspect of the project has their name displayed.

I need to quit smoking man. Really. I just cannot have it on next year’s resolution list.

Got to lose the love handles. I swear I will impale the next fucker who talks about my waistline. Fuck off already.

And that concludes my litany.
Au revoir.

postus interruptus

I’m going on vacation.
It’s unreal.
It’s going to be so weird to not wake up panic stricken, wondering exactly how late I’m going to be for work that morning.

Tomorrow is my last day of work.
I won’t be at my desk though because I need to make one last business trip to represent my company at a trade fair on the other side of the country. Then I have to fly back on Sat morning, pack and fly out to Joburg (SA) on Saturday evening. Sunday I’ll be flying to Cape Town in time to pick up my robe on Mon and graduate on Tues. Or is it Wed?
Pft. Who cares. Sometime during the week.

According to me I’m already a graduate. Been a graduate since I handed in my dissertation and left university in Jan. Only graduating now because they took so bloody long to examine my thesis I couldnt make the June ceremony.

To me grad is just a big showdown where people feel special and accomplished, old men wear dresses, photographers hit the jackpot, parents burst with pride and graduants get wasted. Been there, done that, got the T-Shirt. Literally. It’s a dull, purple waste of cotton with…wait for it… ‘Class of 2002’ written on it. How exciting.

I can think of better T-Shirts the computer science dept could have come up with:

me = grad
do
booze++
until brain == dead

I would have skipped the whole hullabaloo if my dad hadn’t popped a vein at the thought of me graduating in absentia. It means more to him than it does to me, so I thought I’d just let him get his proud moment. Afterall, he did have to put up with my incessant demands for more money during my days of perpetual brokeness.

So I’ll be gone for a month.
Might post.
Or not.

Thanks to everyone who has stopped by and actually left a comment. (Hint hint you lurking lot) I know I act like I don’t care, but *sniff* , *Sob* I do. I really do. I weally weally wuv you all!

*clears throat*.
Yeah, whatever.
That was sooo not me. It’s the other voice in my head.

Later people.

Shoot me please

I've made two major blunders today. Okay, one major the other minor.

The first was at a workshop this morning. The Chief Technical Officer of the ...what’s the word (we are the supplier - they are the? supplyee?)... recipient company of the stuff we sell...was making a presentation when he realised what he had just said was slightly inaccurate so right in the middle of the sentence he just yelled out "hold your horses, I'm a lying thief!". Man, I couldn't help it - I just burst out into incontrollable spasms of laughter right there in the middle of the presentation with my boss staring me down as if to say "get a grip woman". These people have zero sense of humour. How could you not find that funny? The only other person who joined in with a covert giggle was this guy Michel, who I really like because he's like me in so many ways. Anyway, if I wasn’t dark, I'm sure I’d have been a bright shade of red...

The MAJOR booboo was an incident with a certain colleague. She creates invoices for us, except given the multinational nature of my company she's physically located on the other side of the world and we communicate almost entirely by email. The email system goes down and people actually go home because of how much we rely on it to get any work done.

So I’ve been asking her to generate invoices for some work we have completed for the supplyee company. She ignores my emails then quite out of the blue asks if she can invoice something completely irrelevant. To cut a long story short, a series of mails were exchanged between her (wining as usual) my boss (telling her to not take things personally) and another colleague while I just looked on with mild amusement because I’m the only person who knows the full story and the extent of her insanity. I started composing a reasonable email to highlight the whole invoicing mix-up in a reproachful but suitably professional manner when I got caught up in my own profound irritation for her and started to write down exactly what I really wanted to say. The worst part is I actually accidentally sent it:

Hi H...,

I’ve asked you REPEATEDLY to raise specific invoices. I say, you invoice. That’s how it works. But nooooo. You are involved in your own personal agenda and ask me if you can raise invoices that are not relevant at the moment, just because YOU think they are invoiceable. You are not reachable by phone, fax, email or telepathy. I'm not the only person with this problem. Ask ANYONE who has worked with you. Everyone just shakes their head and mutters, 'that woman is mad' at the utterance of your name. I realise you are busy, but don't mystify the whole process like it’s a big deal to insert a PO number and click a button that says 'generate invoice' - yes I do happen to know how its done. Now please pull the rod out of your behind and kindly send me my invoice.

Best Regards,
Lyn

So I guess I’m going to clean out my desk now and not expect any compensation.
Except she is so irritating my boss might even be mildly amused.
Anyway, I immediately called her up (dropped a voicemail and sent more emails) and told her I didn’t mean to send it and such...
Its a moments like this I wonder if I’m really a normal.

Paris

I must be missing something because I just don’t seem to get it. Try as I may to partake in the globally shared revulsion for Paris, I’m just not feeling it. I stumbled on yet another blog where the author feels the world would a better place if she was ‘shot into space and left there to die a slow and painful death’. So this begs the question: Why does everyone rag on Paris Hilton?

- Could it be her sense of style?
No she didint! Is that… *gasp*… the same dress she wore to that thing at that place last month!?! Not only is it REPEATED but also hopelessly OUTDATED! Holy MotherofGod, this must be the end of the world as we know it.
So the fluorescent pink top does not go with the lime green mini skirt. Infact it couldn’t possibly go with any colour known to man. Boo-freaking-hoo. Let's line up the firing squad.

- Maybe because she’s rich?
Selfish bitch. Why didn’t she do the right thing and politely decline her inheritance: No thank you daddy. I would much rather spend my entire life in a tiny cubicle trying to figure out which spot to bang my head against next while I desperately try to regain feeling in my lips from kissing my boss’ ass all freaking day and trying very hard not to drive my pencil into the next fucker who calls me ‘the chick who sits by the water cooler’ my name is Paris goddammit, PARIS.

- Because she's no Angelina Jolie? So that’s why everybody hates her! because she's just Too Damn Ugly. Take a good look in the mirror people. Chances are you are NOT prettier than her. And if you are, well good for you. Now shut the fk up.

- Or perhaps because she’s a party animal and none too prim.
Oh man, here’s what happens when the moral fabric of society breaks down. Paris happens. When we are all in church singing Holy holy holy, Paris is recovering from a hangover…or still perpetuating one. We were in church weren’t we? Well, some of us right? Any of us? Anyone? I know I for one I was probably lying on my bed spent, cheeks still flushed in the aftermath, grinning with contentment and sucking on a cigarette.
So Paris, ROCK ON!

- She’s named after a Hotel.
Did you not get the memo? Woe betides she that is named after a hotel. Damned she shall be - forever cast out to fringes of society where she will be publicly ridiculed to serve as a lesson to all those who poignantly refuse to uphold the virtues of this great land we live in– those who fail to abide by the 1st Commandment: THOU SHALL NOT NAMETH THINE OFFSPRING AFTER THOU’S HOTEL lest you get cast into outer space and left there to wither and die.

Frankly I couldn’t care less if she was infact blasted into outer space. Paris means absolutely diddlysquat to me. But I can’t help but be fascinated by the outright global disdain for Miss Hilton. A young woman with lots of money lots of time lots of attention and lots of sex = lots of resentment I suppose.

Anyway, for argument sake and for my personal edification: why do YOU hate Paris?