Sometimes we need a push from an inspirational place.
Before you carry on with this post, I want you to take this link, let it load, patience now..
http://soundcloud.com/deadoceans/phosphorescent-song-for-zula
Are you ready..? Ok, go on, you may now press PLAY.
The fear of having nothing good to say after so long is quite overwhelming.
What if we pretended that I didn't vanish, and what you are reading now was a simple add on to yesterday. Not 21 days ago, but earlier. That today, being day 40 is just another day.
Would you forgive me if I had a great story to tell?
21 Days is a lot of time to get up to all sorts of goodness. Being new to a city full of new things is a terribly, terrifying new experience. The newness of every corner is a new type of hype that I just can't wait to capture, like butterflies in a net.
Picture this:
It's a wintery day, but the sun is shining gloriously. There is a feeling of something different in the air, could it be spring? No surely not. But it's there - it's warm, it's a t-shirt type of day.
You decide that inside is not the place to be, so you get out, out into a field full other people, running a mock in this summery spring phenomenon.
There are dogs yapping and owners shouting. Kids are rolling down the hills and a soft breeze tangles your hair as if whispering past, "You can feel it can't you?"
As you flop to the ground, onto a soft comfort, pressing strawberries to your lips, you let your mind go. Why has it been so trapped?
You let it wonder, into the wonder it finds…
Friends of the past that have welcomed you back, mushy loves that keep you up at night and special discoveries of intellect you forgot you owned. Rewinding the past few weeks as if to relive them all over again, you really have never felt so happy.
Staring at your thoughts dancing above you, you lift your arms to remind yourself that it's all real. Look, you are touching every smile and intertwine every word passed between you, enveloped between your fingers. Suddenly you grab them, feel them absorb into your skin. Quick! Pull them tightly into your chest.
Embracing the past few weeks with responsibility and respect.
Opening your eyes, can see those kites flying high above you? Watch them flit as your human gently unravels the string, the kites are dancing in the breeze, silly kites.
Could this be your life's metaphor?
Burnt from the rays of a summery spring type of sun, you feel alive again. Alive to write again.
And this song that's playing in your ears. It's given you hope to be again. Right?
Exactly right.
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Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
A great read, for a great day. - Day 19
Today I have been in Joburg for 3 weeks. Dudes! THREE WHOLE WEEKS! Where did the time fly to? I have been in a thoughtful wonder what to write all day, until this literate gem swooshed through the airwaves onto my iPhone screen.
It's romantic, without trying to be. Real, yet disturbing and catapults you to the wonder.
Find ten minutes of your day to be insulted, angry, and in agreement, as this truer than true piece of literature unfolds your fantasies.
You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.
Date a girl who doesn't read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in a film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her.
Let the anxious contract you've unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale or the evenings too long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn't fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.
Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn't, smile all the same.
Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn't read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.
Do those things, god damnit, because nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent of a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, goddamnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.
Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.
Date a girl who doesn't read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.
Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so goddamned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life of which I spoke at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being told. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. Or, perhaps, stay and save my life.
- C. Warnke
Whoever you are C. Warnke, you deserve an applause. Thank you to my friend who knew that this would pull at my being-strings. It only makes me want to write better, and embrace being a reader.
It's romantic, without trying to be. Real, yet disturbing and catapults you to the wonder.
Find ten minutes of your day to be insulted, angry, and in agreement, as this truer than true piece of literature unfolds your fantasies.
You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.
Date a girl who doesn't read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in a film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her.
Let the anxious contract you've unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale or the evenings too long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn't fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.
Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn't, smile all the same.
Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn't read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.
Do those things, god damnit, because nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent of a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, goddamnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.
Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.
Date a girl who doesn't read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.
Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so goddamned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life of which I spoke at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being told. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. Or, perhaps, stay and save my life.
- C. Warnke
Whoever you are C. Warnke, you deserve an applause. Thank you to my friend who knew that this would pull at my being-strings. It only makes me want to write better, and embrace being a reader.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
A city that sleeps - Day 18
I woke up this morning to an unusual sense of quiet. The light filtering through my curtains was softer, grayer, silent. The sound of the traffic seemed to have been chased away by all the gray surrounding the suburbs. A soft mist had settled on the streets as if to stroke the city into obedience.
It was warm.
Usually a gray day in Durban would mean pulling the duvet over ones head and faking some overcast sickness. But in Joburg, on my very first gray day, I needed to touch this quiet that felt so unusual.
Salomons on and hood up I paced down the street. Big puffs of breath exhaled away from my body, as the sound of takkie on tar echoed in the street like an apocalyptic apology.
It was glorious.
As I reached the park, the grass gave way to a soft push which was different from the frosty crunch I had been so used to. The trees lay almost petrified in their sleep, not daring to wake the airiness of the gray day.
From the view of the park I can normally summon the city into my day, setting the tone of ambition I daily crave. But this was a different day, a Tuesday that refused to give me sight of anything five paces ahead. Tears of cold ran down my face, and my smile grew into an awkwardly, gallant giggle.
Who knew this sneaky city slept.
Who knew this sneaky city slept.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Future steps - Day 17
A recent conversation with a friend got me thinking about my future. Your future.
As human beings, human livings, human doings, we have this constant refresh button in our minds that recalculate after every step. When we move forward, where are we moving to? What's the next BIG experience that we are about to discover? It's all such scarily unknown territory but we move forward, towards it anyway.
My friend is in constant recalculation of his future. Every step he takes is in a positive direction, but then his mind stalls for that split second to reassure himself that, "Is this really the right direction I am moving forward to?".
I blame this type of thinking on the over ambitious lives we lead. The constant media that shows us flashy things, driving us to be more accomplished. Unfiltered adverts of you WANT this, but at the next corner its no, you NEED this. Our upscale of thought is also generated by the company and conversations we surround ourselves in.
I have now been in Joburg for two weeks and already the here, now, be in the moment thinking is fast forwarding to the next big thing. Yeah, sure I am here. Two feet on the ground behind a desk groomed with Social Media. Creating copy for every brand imaginable. Selling lifestyles, putting the choices in your wallet for your next grocery shop. But distantly future altering moments pop into my head - that age old question of, "Where to next?"
As far as I am concerned, there are only two choices that we have control of in our life: To do or to don't.
Our future is governed not by our capabilities but by our will. I look at my friend who has all the capabilities in the world an a will as strong as the wind. But with any will it's about filtering out all of life's grabbing hands and thinking clearly about the next steps. Blinkering out the screaming crowd and focusing on the finish line and having the will to do so.
My mini goal solution is the only way to feel like we have control of our forward moving steps. Little stepping stones of experiences and analyzing them at each goal post. It's impossible to full speed ahead without becoming fatigued and overwhelmed, and often we lose sight of the here and now behind the big rush.
You know, life is funny in the way that it will pop up these thought provoking experiences just to make you come back down to earth and breath. Listen to these moments of life insight, or what I like to call, Life In Sight. If you have a million things you see yourself doing in your life, do them. Map out a life path, give yourself flags to collect at every stop. Only by seeing a tangible future (no matter how big or how small) you will find yourself there.
Ideas for life mapping:
Write it down.
Mark down what you see yourself doing right now. Look for the gaps of mini posts that you can squeeze the WANTS into. Little by little a perfectly mapped mini future will rise in front of you, one thing I can guarantee is that as soon as you see this shopping list in full tangibility, it'll start to take shape. That's a sneaky subconscious for you.
Vision boards.
Some of us are visual creatures. Not text planners, lists can give some of us that hyperventilation sensation. Start with a simple reassessing of goals, values and dig deep into "if I could live life anyway I could, without the monitory stress, how would I live?". Dig out those magazines and grab at pictures and words that make you feel like you, that give you that rush of an open window before a storm. Place them on a board and feel your subconscious respond to a life you have just created. Look at it everyday and soon enough, well, you'll see.
I think that the bottom line is, stop being so frustrated with the thought of your future. It hasn't happened yet. And I bet, Future you is going to be pretty stoked how it all turned out.
For more information about vision board classes go to: Heilahealth. co.za to book a class. It's really quite a fun way to spend a morning.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Oh you are going to enjoy this - Day 16
I don't even know where to start.
First of all I am grateful for leaving my charger at the office over the weekend, because if I had written a blog post yesterday it would have been filled with butterflies, unicorns and sparkly pieces of my favourite emotions/emoticons. Because that's what successful dates do to a girl.
Oh my God.
This morning I walk into the office to a very happy looking colleague. I was equally pumped up on date endorphins, so entertaining anyone on my cloud nine was a must.
Monday had started off very well! *Let's all clap hands together!*
Me: "Heeeeey! Sooooo how was your weekend?"
Colleague: "It was great thanks, met this guy on Friday night and seemed to really hit it off. Saw him again yesterday for coffee - He seems like a really nice guy, BUT there is something that I can quite put my finger on."
Me: "That's awesome, I am sure it was just date jitters.. Sooo, funnily enough I also went on a date yesterday. Was a really fun arvi, haven't had such good convo like that in a while. And will probably see him again this week. Fuck FINALLY my bad luck is ending!"
Colleague: "haha, well apparently this guy knows half or our company and comes here often so I am sure you'll get to meet him."
Me: *Trying to hide a shocked face* "Um, what's his name?"
Colleague: "Name."
Me: " Oh. My. God. You said you saw him when? Yesterday??"
Colleague: "Yeah we went for coffee at 2.30pm in Parkhurst"
Me: "So you were his 2.30pm and I was his 4pm. IN Parkhurst! Not even in a different suburb, the same suburb, fuck, the SAME street. Areyoueffingkiddingme. Unbelievable"
Colleague: " OH MY GOD."
Now guys, like yes, YOU men, mean, men species. C'mon. Surely if you know both the girls you decided to entertain and you KNOW that they sit next to each other in the same office, and that they WILL talk - you would like to be a bit less obvious? Eyydunno.. Just a suggestion? Perhaps I have this all screwed up, and that maybe you suffered from some sort of memory loss walking from one restaurant to the other. Who the fuck knows, you are a royal idiot.
Now I have always had this agreement that you are allowed to date numerous people at the same time (See: Date, NOT bang!). Hey, single life is hard enough and you should never put all your eggs in one basket until those eggs are delivered to your door with a big heart shaped bow. Hek, I have a date tomorrow with a different guy, doesn't mean I am a playa. I am just enjoying new city life with new people. So this would be ok. But what's not okay is that, if you generally know that two girls are friends, they work together, let alone sit next to each other, WHY on EARTH would you be such a stupid dick? Look, I admire the "Playa" game, there are some real winners out there that get it right. But this is just plain stupidity. You are letting your 'playa' club down man.
The bottom line is, excuse me for fixating on this one area, but OBVIOUSLY two FRIENDS are going to talk, and you, Mr shit-where-you-eat, have to walk into our offices and see both of us - what do you think is going to transpire? I just don't get it?
I think overall I am just generally really disappointed that I had this, '*Air punch!* Successful date in the bag!' champion moment. When I should have just said, "Up your ziggy with a wawa brush".
Cupid, you son-of-a-bitch.
First of all I am grateful for leaving my charger at the office over the weekend, because if I had written a blog post yesterday it would have been filled with butterflies, unicorns and sparkly pieces of my favourite emotions/emoticons. Because that's what successful dates do to a girl.
Oh my God.
This morning I walk into the office to a very happy looking colleague. I was equally pumped up on date endorphins, so entertaining anyone on my cloud nine was a must.
Monday had started off very well! *Let's all clap hands together!*
Me: "Heeeeey! Sooooo how was your weekend?"
Colleague: "It was great thanks, met this guy on Friday night and seemed to really hit it off. Saw him again yesterday for coffee - He seems like a really nice guy, BUT there is something that I can quite put my finger on."
Me: "That's awesome, I am sure it was just date jitters.. Sooo, funnily enough I also went on a date yesterday. Was a really fun arvi, haven't had such good convo like that in a while. And will probably see him again this week. Fuck FINALLY my bad luck is ending!"
Colleague: "haha, well apparently this guy knows half or our company and comes here often so I am sure you'll get to meet him."
Me: *Trying to hide a shocked face* "Um, what's his name?"
Colleague: "Name."
Me: " Oh. My. God. You said you saw him when? Yesterday??"
Colleague: "Yeah we went for coffee at 2.30pm in Parkhurst"
Me: "So you were his 2.30pm and I was his 4pm. IN Parkhurst! Not even in a different suburb, the same suburb, fuck, the SAME street. Areyoueffingkiddingme. Unbelievable"
Colleague: " OH MY GOD."
Now guys, like yes, YOU men, mean, men species. C'mon. Surely if you know both the girls you decided to entertain and you KNOW that they sit next to each other in the same office, and that they WILL talk - you would like to be a bit less obvious? Eyydunno.. Just a suggestion? Perhaps I have this all screwed up, and that maybe you suffered from some sort of memory loss walking from one restaurant to the other. Who the fuck knows, you are a royal idiot.
Now I have always had this agreement that you are allowed to date numerous people at the same time (See: Date, NOT bang!). Hey, single life is hard enough and you should never put all your eggs in one basket until those eggs are delivered to your door with a big heart shaped bow. Hek, I have a date tomorrow with a different guy, doesn't mean I am a playa. I am just enjoying new city life with new people. So this would be ok. But what's not okay is that, if you generally know that two girls are friends, they work together, let alone sit next to each other, WHY on EARTH would you be such a stupid dick? Look, I admire the "Playa" game, there are some real winners out there that get it right. But this is just plain stupidity. You are letting your 'playa' club down man.
The bottom line is, excuse me for fixating on this one area, but OBVIOUSLY two FRIENDS are going to talk, and you, Mr shit-where-you-eat, have to walk into our offices and see both of us - what do you think is going to transpire? I just don't get it?
I think overall I am just generally really disappointed that I had this, '*Air punch!* Successful date in the bag!' champion moment. When I should have just said, "Up your ziggy with a wawa brush".
Cupid, you son-of-a-bitch.
Friday, July 19, 2013
10 things lazy Friday - Day 15
Some of the things I have learnt this week… Drum roll please!
1. The weeks FLY by. Can't believe I have been in Joburg for 1 week and 2 days. Another weekend to explore the citaaaay!
2. Putting your heart on the line is actually an incredibly liberating experience - clarity aids in a stable mind.
3. My office is amazing. I have made 2 new friends that are just hilarious, and discovered a VERY cute English boy… mmm…
4. Making friends is quite hard - but it's actually me. People here are so friendly and try engage often. I just need to stop being so damn shy! Wow. *Slaps me around like an Oxford Road hooker*
5. Joburg is a BEAUTIFUL city. My morning runs have become a religion, so many trees and pretty scenes. The thinner air has me at a vomit point everyday, but if I just keep going my rhythm comes back.
6. Warm feet = warm everything
7. Never leave work before 5.30pm. My drive will be swift (haha I drive a Suzuki Swift - personal joke, mm ok just me then?) and traffic free. Proving JHB wrong one 30 mins at a time.
8. This city eats money. No idea where it goes to, sigh. I just want new shooooooes!
9. As much as I thought I would hate an office job, the content I get to work on is so much fun and so creative that I actually like going to work. Who would have thought.
10. Friday just means, WTF am I going to do tonight without any friends?
Thursday, July 18, 2013
WTF Wednesday - Day 14
Some days are good days other days are just, days. Then you get those days that are so freaking up and down that you can't help but giggle as your head hits the pillow.
Yesterday, you gloriously emotional bastard.
My last post was about me, (as if you hadn't figured it out) and my latest crush. Me taking a chance at something. The imagery of a dog leaping and bounding as it welcomes home it's owner describes what was going through my mind. Happy thoughts like the Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid singing in her cave… Happy, happy thoughts.
Yoh, guys, word of advice. Don't build anything up, EVER. Because unfortunately that delight of owning up my heart, was quickly brought down to earth by the, FRIEND card.
Ohhh. Burn.
Yes, yes, you are allowed to have a good giggle.
But wait, there is more…
So after I received my email of rejection. (Just kidding Email Sender, it was put wittingly well), I drove home feeling extremely homesick and missing my friends. I needed a bottle of wine to console my aching heart… (okay, okay enough now it wasn't so bad - *whale sobs!*).
As I reached the first set of lights the traffic started. Holy chicken feet, for as far as I could see up Rivonia Drive it was piled. Urg, just what I needed - my bottle of wine so close but so, so far. It took me an hour to get home for a normal 20 minute drive. Dis-gusting.
Given that hour in the traffic, the radio soothed my broken heart by playing every single fucking love song from the 90s. Hi, Mariah, yeah I know a hero will never come along, thanks Whitney but he doesn't always love me, and no R.Kelly there won't be any Bump 'N Grind but thanks for rubbing it in though. As you can imagine, when I swung open my flat door to see my bottle of wine consumed from the night before it was, "Tragedy".
Ahh but yes, a few minutes from pointing at my bottle of wine and shouting "why! WHHHY!" my lovely Flattie walked in and promptly whisked me away to our favourite greek restaurant up the road. Yes, there was wine and yes, there was talk of off loading about stupid boys but it all soothed down to giggles about real life shit. Until this happened.
So I am not one to dwell on ex's, what's done is done and the heart pains but you get over it and swim back to the surface feeling more alive and more truer you than ever. But, when the love of your life, now married love of your life walks into the same restaurant as you after 3 years, glances your way and doesn't recognize you. Daily dears, you have two choices: 1. You steer your shocked face in an opposite direction and stare frightfully into your wine Or 2. Shout his name, smile, get up and fake a "Oh my gosh it's sooo good to see you" adult voice that really couldn't give a flying duck.
What option did I go for? Option number two. Seriously after THIS day, my shocked face turned into a 'What the fuck, seriously, universe are you effing kidding me, this is not happening' kind of face. Yes, it's the face that you get when you're pretending not to wee in a pool.
It went well, it was awkwaaard, but it ended in a smooth exit from him with the last words, "We should totally have drinks soon." and me nodding my head in a agreement, shouting inward, "not a fuck".
Overall, to wrap it up. I will be very happy to never see another Wednesday like that again.
ps. Thursday has been amazing. Oh and I got to see the real life Jake Gyllenhaal.
Booya!
Yesterday, you gloriously emotional bastard.
My last post was about me, (as if you hadn't figured it out) and my latest crush. Me taking a chance at something. The imagery of a dog leaping and bounding as it welcomes home it's owner describes what was going through my mind. Happy thoughts like the Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid singing in her cave… Happy, happy thoughts.
Yoh, guys, word of advice. Don't build anything up, EVER. Because unfortunately that delight of owning up my heart, was quickly brought down to earth by the, FRIEND card.
Ohhh. Burn.
Yes, yes, you are allowed to have a good giggle.
But wait, there is more…
So after I received my email of rejection. (Just kidding Email Sender, it was put wittingly well), I drove home feeling extremely homesick and missing my friends. I needed a bottle of wine to console my aching heart… (okay, okay enough now it wasn't so bad - *whale sobs!*).
As I reached the first set of lights the traffic started. Holy chicken feet, for as far as I could see up Rivonia Drive it was piled. Urg, just what I needed - my bottle of wine so close but so, so far. It took me an hour to get home for a normal 20 minute drive. Dis-gusting.
Given that hour in the traffic, the radio soothed my broken heart by playing every single fucking love song from the 90s. Hi, Mariah, yeah I know a hero will never come along, thanks Whitney but he doesn't always love me, and no R.Kelly there won't be any Bump 'N Grind but thanks for rubbing it in though. As you can imagine, when I swung open my flat door to see my bottle of wine consumed from the night before it was, "Tragedy".
Ahh but yes, a few minutes from pointing at my bottle of wine and shouting "why! WHHHY!" my lovely Flattie walked in and promptly whisked me away to our favourite greek restaurant up the road. Yes, there was wine and yes, there was talk of off loading about stupid boys but it all soothed down to giggles about real life shit. Until this happened.
So I am not one to dwell on ex's, what's done is done and the heart pains but you get over it and swim back to the surface feeling more alive and more truer you than ever. But, when the love of your life, now married love of your life walks into the same restaurant as you after 3 years, glances your way and doesn't recognize you. Daily dears, you have two choices: 1. You steer your shocked face in an opposite direction and stare frightfully into your wine Or 2. Shout his name, smile, get up and fake a "Oh my gosh it's sooo good to see you" adult voice that really couldn't give a flying duck.
What option did I go for? Option number two. Seriously after THIS day, my shocked face turned into a 'What the fuck, seriously, universe are you effing kidding me, this is not happening' kind of face. Yes, it's the face that you get when you're pretending not to wee in a pool.
It went well, it was awkwaaard, but it ended in a smooth exit from him with the last words, "We should totally have drinks soon." and me nodding my head in a agreement, shouting inward, "not a fuck".
Overall, to wrap it up. I will be very happy to never see another Wednesday like that again.
ps. Thursday has been amazing. Oh and I got to see the real life Jake Gyllenhaal.
Booya!
Monday, July 15, 2013
You know what I am talking about. - Day 13
You control your own happiness.
But then along comes someone that flips it on it's side and completely messes with your mind.
It's been a fascinating day, a lot of deep thoughts and finding myself in equally deep conversations. For a Monday it sure has shown what it thinks of the rest of the week. Middle finger up.
First of all, let's get this straight. Men and woman think differently. Why? Because they ARE different. There is no simpler way to describe it. Trying to figure out why a man acts in a certain way is just going to waste your thought space. If he digs you, he'll show you. If he wants to talk to you, he'll talk to you. And if he wants to get into your pants, by God he will find a way.
Yes, from a female point of view it's a selfish action.
And, no, most probably, you won't have a say.
Then there are those, oh Jesus, there are those that well, are different. The 'I don't play by the rules' Mike. Their rules, are goals, no woman nor invitation of romance can step on this guys path to greatness. Of course you want to date him, just look at him. Successful, head strong, caring, knows what he want's type of guy. But you, fearless female are not on his goal posts. This type of guy will lead you straight down a path to confusion-ville. Why? Because he is the nice guy, he really is quite oblivious to your intentions and will play that friend card so well you will feel like you are half way there.
I try not to play games, it's not in 'my' rule book. I've lead a very happy single life for almost 2 years, found great friendships with guys and well become, to my shocked face realization, the girl friend, girl. I am sorry, but this is NOT who I am, of course I want a relationship? Just because I am 100% happy with being Jemma, doesn't mean that Dr Dashing can't claim a shelf.
I am a great believer in manifestation. I put my order in 'upstairs' and most of the time I get what I want. This time however my MAN-ifestation is in front of me, so ridiculously tangible yet unattainable. Is this my fault? Have I been handing out this friend card in fear of something real happening? I think any girl reading this knows exactly how I feel, one step out of the comfort zone and it's all yes, YES or the probability of a no. Fucking hell.
So then I circle back to the men and women are different. Men, not so much the Michelangelo thinker. Women, scenarios of circumstances that are enough to drive us crazy. But it's our own fault. We string along a pleasurable fantasy completely oblivious to the opposite sex, in fear of living a pleasurable reality. Where really we should MAN up and say, "I dig you, wanna date?".
But then along comes someone that flips it on it's side and completely messes with your mind.
It's been a fascinating day, a lot of deep thoughts and finding myself in equally deep conversations. For a Monday it sure has shown what it thinks of the rest of the week. Middle finger up.
First of all, let's get this straight. Men and woman think differently. Why? Because they ARE different. There is no simpler way to describe it. Trying to figure out why a man acts in a certain way is just going to waste your thought space. If he digs you, he'll show you. If he wants to talk to you, he'll talk to you. And if he wants to get into your pants, by God he will find a way.
Yes, from a female point of view it's a selfish action.
And, no, most probably, you won't have a say.
Then there are those, oh Jesus, there are those that well, are different. The 'I don't play by the rules' Mike. Their rules, are goals, no woman nor invitation of romance can step on this guys path to greatness. Of course you want to date him, just look at him. Successful, head strong, caring, knows what he want's type of guy. But you, fearless female are not on his goal posts. This type of guy will lead you straight down a path to confusion-ville. Why? Because he is the nice guy, he really is quite oblivious to your intentions and will play that friend card so well you will feel like you are half way there.
I try not to play games, it's not in 'my' rule book. I've lead a very happy single life for almost 2 years, found great friendships with guys and well become, to my shocked face realization, the girl friend, girl. I am sorry, but this is NOT who I am, of course I want a relationship? Just because I am 100% happy with being Jemma, doesn't mean that Dr Dashing can't claim a shelf.
I am a great believer in manifestation. I put my order in 'upstairs' and most of the time I get what I want. This time however my MAN-ifestation is in front of me, so ridiculously tangible yet unattainable. Is this my fault? Have I been handing out this friend card in fear of something real happening? I think any girl reading this knows exactly how I feel, one step out of the comfort zone and it's all yes, YES or the probability of a no. Fucking hell.
So then I circle back to the men and women are different. Men, not so much the Michelangelo thinker. Women, scenarios of circumstances that are enough to drive us crazy. But it's our own fault. We string along a pleasurable fantasy completely oblivious to the opposite sex, in fear of living a pleasurable reality. Where really we should MAN up and say, "I dig you, wanna date?".
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Weekend round up - Day 12
It's been a really emotionally, all over the place, weekend. This moving city business has finally sunk in and well it's had big ups and downs on my little feelings box.
Friday night was the first night I felt truly alone. It's hard not having my normal routine of phoning my friends and catching up over a bottle of vino. It's also hard putting in a lot of effort to make new friends. Let's just say I lasted a whole hour in one of my favourite venues and decidedly put down my wine and drove home. Thankfully my pity party came to the rescue and invited me to hangout with a familiar face. Thank you.
My last thought before bed - I just want it to be tomorrow so I can start again.
Then Saturday happened, and along with it some BIG smiles. I explored (almost) every hip inch of Johannesburg, sifting through Neighbourgoods Market, Maboneng Precinct, Mellville and some other secondhand shop gemburbs (my word for a suburb full of little gems). And to put the cherry op top an invite to the best view of the city, an SABC broadcast at the crown of the Lister Building. I mean, like seriously? Durbs, I love you but Johannesburg's culture is on a completely different and seriously cool level.
My last thought before bed - I may just be able to do this.
Onwards today, Sunday to an early rise. My DIY day. I woke up last night to the sounds of 3am. Quiet, but my head was swimming in to do lists, hopes, frustrations and back to that feeling of, alone. Then somewhere in my Newsfeed a little glimmer of hope flashed in front of my eyes. A new app! Telmap. One of my frustrations was not knowing where my closest conveniences lay, Jozi is big. When someone here says that something is close, it's not Durban close as in a hop skip and a stroll away. You gotta drive, and like navigate your little heart out in hope that, that tall building will stay in front of you, it never does.
Anyways, back to the app, it takes your current location and lets you punch in what you are looking for, easy peezy pie. Nearest Builders Express? Oh only 1,3kms away! Winning!
One of my biggest rules of moving to a new city (to be expanded in another post) is to know where your nearest Builders Express is, amongst other need to knows that get you by. This little app, what a beaut and so easy to navigate! Download it now! Seriously, now.
So as my morning commenced to a much warmer highveld day, I gathered my walkabout friend at the corner and strolled through my suburb enroute to a gloriously huge park that overlooked the south side of the city. We chatted away and after much exhalation of worry, I was ready to tackle hardware heaven.
Hardware heaven, I mean isn't there anything more awesome? Pantone, paints, piles of wood, and creativity! There is so much to say about DIY and what the feeling of walking around a builders paradise does to me. My mind literally goes into Pinterest overdrive.
I gathered my goods and set off home, sans GPS and made it all the way back like a pro. If it wasn't for my out of towner number plate I could've been one of you Jolsburgers! Believe that.
Upon home arrival, Flattie (my flat mate) and her bf were cooking up a storm for Sunday lunch. Now when I say this Daily Dears, that I haven't experienced a normal Sunday afternoon food frenzy such as this, I mean it. Like it was the most natural habit in the universe to be DIYing, chatting away and nibbling on, erase that - sitting down at the table having grown up conversations, eating grown up food in our soon to be uber stylish flat. It fills my heart with joy.
Right now, my last thought before bed - This is called home.
Friday night was the first night I felt truly alone. It's hard not having my normal routine of phoning my friends and catching up over a bottle of vino. It's also hard putting in a lot of effort to make new friends. Let's just say I lasted a whole hour in one of my favourite venues and decidedly put down my wine and drove home. Thankfully my pity party came to the rescue and invited me to hangout with a familiar face. Thank you.
My last thought before bed - I just want it to be tomorrow so I can start again.
Then Saturday happened, and along with it some BIG smiles. I explored (almost) every hip inch of Johannesburg, sifting through Neighbourgoods Market, Maboneng Precinct, Mellville and some other secondhand shop gemburbs (my word for a suburb full of little gems). And to put the cherry op top an invite to the best view of the city, an SABC broadcast at the crown of the Lister Building. I mean, like seriously? Durbs, I love you but Johannesburg's culture is on a completely different and seriously cool level.
My last thought before bed - I may just be able to do this.
Onwards today, Sunday to an early rise. My DIY day. I woke up last night to the sounds of 3am. Quiet, but my head was swimming in to do lists, hopes, frustrations and back to that feeling of, alone. Then somewhere in my Newsfeed a little glimmer of hope flashed in front of my eyes. A new app! Telmap. One of my frustrations was not knowing where my closest conveniences lay, Jozi is big. When someone here says that something is close, it's not Durban close as in a hop skip and a stroll away. You gotta drive, and like navigate your little heart out in hope that, that tall building will stay in front of you, it never does.
Anyways, back to the app, it takes your current location and lets you punch in what you are looking for, easy peezy pie. Nearest Builders Express? Oh only 1,3kms away! Winning!
One of my biggest rules of moving to a new city (to be expanded in another post) is to know where your nearest Builders Express is, amongst other need to knows that get you by. This little app, what a beaut and so easy to navigate! Download it now! Seriously, now.
So as my morning commenced to a much warmer highveld day, I gathered my walkabout friend at the corner and strolled through my suburb enroute to a gloriously huge park that overlooked the south side of the city. We chatted away and after much exhalation of worry, I was ready to tackle hardware heaven.
Hardware heaven, I mean isn't there anything more awesome? Pantone, paints, piles of wood, and creativity! There is so much to say about DIY and what the feeling of walking around a builders paradise does to me. My mind literally goes into Pinterest overdrive.
I gathered my goods and set off home, sans GPS and made it all the way back like a pro. If it wasn't for my out of towner number plate I could've been one of you Jolsburgers! Believe that.
Upon home arrival, Flattie (my flat mate) and her bf were cooking up a storm for Sunday lunch. Now when I say this Daily Dears, that I haven't experienced a normal Sunday afternoon food frenzy such as this, I mean it. Like it was the most natural habit in the universe to be DIYing, chatting away and nibbling on, erase that - sitting down at the table having grown up conversations, eating grown up food in our soon to be uber stylish flat. It fills my heart with joy.
Right now, my last thought before bed - This is called home.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Fashion crisis - Day 11
One day in Joburg and I have hit fashion crisis mode.
I regard myself as a well dressed human, but being slightly adventurous in Durban one would think so too. Unfortunately right now, I need an actual look - which I feel I am failing at miserably. My cupboard feels like a schizophrenic on acid. So many colours and random bits of cloth - nothing quite saying "this is my wardrobe". It's a disaster.
My friend and I were having this debate about women's versus men's fashion and how men have taken over on the variety shelf. Ladies merchandise is feeling very carbon copy. Every store calling out the same message. And the only ones that are pulling it off are late teens with 12 year old bodies.
I am not a stick. I have curves and my bum will never be as tiny as I would like. But when I try on some of these mod fashion items I feel like mutton. The look I am going for in my mind screams lamb, a hot sexy piece of lamb, alas the cut doesn't quite fit.
It's winter sale season. Normally I would be the first one rushing to the bins grabbing anything on 70% discount, but now I have to think about things in a more, rational fashion.
Perhaps I should hire a stylist? Then that even seems like a waste of effort as I am a professionally trained one. Dressing models for glossy pages is my background so why, oh WHY can't I seem to figure myself out?
I know what you're thinking - no, Pinterest doesn't help. Yes, it gathers my ideas into one fitted board, but the majority of my fun comes from men's fashion. Creating Mr Ken doll into a well dressed, dapper dude. I am bored of who I am and finding an alternative canvas to play on fuels my inner fashion creative...
*Long pause as I disappear into train of mood board thoughts.
Right that's it, I may have just typed my way into a decision. Monochrome, simple and stylish. Black on black, grey and white. Lips for colour and I NEED to get a haircut.
Well, that was quite easy.
Ps. This is me sincerely apologizing for not posting yesterday - no excuse other than Joburg just got away with me. Man this place, this place is FUN!
I regard myself as a well dressed human, but being slightly adventurous in Durban one would think so too. Unfortunately right now, I need an actual look - which I feel I am failing at miserably. My cupboard feels like a schizophrenic on acid. So many colours and random bits of cloth - nothing quite saying "this is my wardrobe". It's a disaster.
My friend and I were having this debate about women's versus men's fashion and how men have taken over on the variety shelf. Ladies merchandise is feeling very carbon copy. Every store calling out the same message. And the only ones that are pulling it off are late teens with 12 year old bodies.
I am not a stick. I have curves and my bum will never be as tiny as I would like. But when I try on some of these mod fashion items I feel like mutton. The look I am going for in my mind screams lamb, a hot sexy piece of lamb, alas the cut doesn't quite fit.
It's winter sale season. Normally I would be the first one rushing to the bins grabbing anything on 70% discount, but now I have to think about things in a more, rational fashion.
Perhaps I should hire a stylist? Then that even seems like a waste of effort as I am a professionally trained one. Dressing models for glossy pages is my background so why, oh WHY can't I seem to figure myself out?
I know what you're thinking - no, Pinterest doesn't help. Yes, it gathers my ideas into one fitted board, but the majority of my fun comes from men's fashion. Creating Mr Ken doll into a well dressed, dapper dude. I am bored of who I am and finding an alternative canvas to play on fuels my inner fashion creative...
*Long pause as I disappear into train of mood board thoughts.
Right that's it, I may have just typed my way into a decision. Monochrome, simple and stylish. Black on black, grey and white. Lips for colour and I NEED to get a haircut.
Well, that was quite easy.
Ps. This is me sincerely apologizing for not posting yesterday - no excuse other than Joburg just got away with me. Man this place, this place is FUN!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Hi Joburg! - Day 10
Today has been great day.
I am lying in my bed after a good few glasses of Wolftrap (Ps. Chere! She has such good taste!) and can quite happily say that my flat mate is a brunette extension of me.
But let's rewind.
This morning when I left my trusty old comfort zone for the last time, I had no expectations of the day ahead. The sky was grey and the roads were quiet but that didn't dampen the comedy show that trailed me well into the Freestate. My friends, my darling friends and our new found fun for video messaging. I don't know what I would have done without your retarded on screen skills. Between the giggles and hourly updates, you kept my spirits high on that lonely drive. And when the signal dropped, well, I dropped a few ballads into the sing along box. Oh girl, my high notes are high!
It's one thing taking a drive into an unchartered adventure but another when the journey has a full stop to a new life. A permeant new life. And somehow it never did quite kick in until I rose over that last hill and saw my future ahead of me. Glistening, steel structures beaconing me with a sun ray wink. Once a quiet road into the known became a hustle of 'get tos' and freeways vaaing left and swinging right. My composed nature turned into a million runaway thoughts. My palms grew sweaty and I was convinced that my GPS was trying to get me lost ( and if it wasn't for an advising word) it would have completely skrewed me over. But then I found familiarity and settled into the notion of, I am here. I am finally here.
How does one explain that moment of meeting someone for the first time? I sat waiting for her to arrive home from work for what felt like an hour. Replaying conversations I once had to previous first encounters, that sealed the deal. But this wasn't some first date floozie or job interview, this was my new flat mate. I needed to me, a better version of me. Was my outfit trendy enough, or was I too over dressed? I want her to think I am relaxed, but not lazy, sophisticated but not snobby.
She walks in.
Hi Joburg, let's be friends.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Bye! - Day 9
So this is it hey guys.
I can't actually believe it's here, after months of planning and weeks of moving the date, tomorrow finally arrives.
I always thought my last night in Durban would be tearing what's left of her tread - annihilating her soul and leaving my name as a 'just in case you forget me' souvenir. But sadly I am way to exhausted and quite frankly over the moving game to care. Instead I went to my favourite restaurant with my two favourite people. Mom and Dad.
I must say I am looking forward to the 6 hours of Jemma time. Just me and whatever sing along sound track is going to come my way. I am going to belt those tunes past Pietermaritzburg, throw a finger at a lonely cow in Escort, toot my way up Van Reenen's Pass, grab a coffee in Harrismith and speed past De Waal into the sexy smog that is Johannesburg. All with my mom in tow. You're jealous aren't you?
I am waiting for the realization of this big change to filter into my mind and say, "Hey Chick, you know this is kinda happening in a far out way?" As for now, it has sunken in as far as polystyrene on water.
Sleep.
A blended red is always a party pooper, so I am just going to leave you with this...
The manager at my favourite restaurant kinda adores me, as my mum puts it blankly, "He loves you." Anyways, many a time I have found his number on my bill and many a times I havn't called. For obvious reasons as I am moving and well, I don't shit where I eat. So as I am about to depart my favourite grazing ground, I call to him to say goodbye and quietly mention to him that I am moving to Johannesburg tomorrow. What's to follow in his beautifully home grown Irish accent are three words that describe everything I am about to do. Perfectly.
"Oh, fuck off."
I can't actually believe it's here, after months of planning and weeks of moving the date, tomorrow finally arrives.
I always thought my last night in Durban would be tearing what's left of her tread - annihilating her soul and leaving my name as a 'just in case you forget me' souvenir. But sadly I am way to exhausted and quite frankly over the moving game to care. Instead I went to my favourite restaurant with my two favourite people. Mom and Dad.
I must say I am looking forward to the 6 hours of Jemma time. Just me and whatever sing along sound track is going to come my way. I am going to belt those tunes past Pietermaritzburg, throw a finger at a lonely cow in Escort, toot my way up Van Reenen's Pass, grab a coffee in Harrismith and speed past De Waal into the sexy smog that is Johannesburg. All with my mom in tow. You're jealous aren't you?
I am waiting for the realization of this big change to filter into my mind and say, "Hey Chick, you know this is kinda happening in a far out way?" As for now, it has sunken in as far as polystyrene on water.
Sleep.
A blended red is always a party pooper, so I am just going to leave you with this...
The manager at my favourite restaurant kinda adores me, as my mum puts it blankly, "He loves you." Anyways, many a time I have found his number on my bill and many a times I havn't called. For obvious reasons as I am moving and well, I don't shit where I eat. So as I am about to depart my favourite grazing ground, I call to him to say goodbye and quietly mention to him that I am moving to Johannesburg tomorrow. What's to follow in his beautifully home grown Irish accent are three words that describe everything I am about to do. Perfectly.
"Oh, fuck off."
Monday, July 8, 2013
You are going to be just fine - Day 8
This is my honest voice. My arm around you giving you that squeeze you deserve. I am here to tell you that you make me so proud.
To my single mom, the day you told me I was afriad for you, in my mind it was too soon, you hadn't finished being a reckless 20-something with me, we had so many nights and hangovers to deal with. I wasn't ready for you to leave my single side. But you had found love. Today a year later I see this person I have never met before. She is brave and responsible and takes motherhood in her stride. It's not easy for you, but babe you make it work. I remember when we were kids and you used me as your scape goat - your yard was full of milkshake and your dad knew it! Then I see this woman holding this bundle of joy, a creation made by you babe. It fills me with awe, love and light.
You are going to be just fine.
To my sister, it's been 17 years of family friendship. Remind me how we lasted this long? Oh the sea by the house. My second home filled with family and love. You too are a mom after my own heart, so brave and fearless. Your mind is incredible and your boldness bowls me over - you've become your own woman, you don't give a shit about the world but somehow do it your own way that does. Christmas will always be our day, you know wherever I am in the world I'll come home. If I could leave you with one thing it would be this: open your heart. Love is waiting for you, it's scary and hell, it's crazy but it will complete you. Let it in, be honest and kind. You don't always need to be so tough.
You are going to be just fine.
To my nesquick, 20 years of laughs and our life hasn't even begun. You are the most honest person in the world. It's been so many years of sharing secrets and sad moments. You know me better than I even know myself, when we are together, which is sadly seldom these days, you make me laugh until I pee. You've seen me at my darkest hour and yet in the most brutally, honest way possible tell me to get a life and move on. You my friend, have taught me the most about life, when something doesn't go your way smile until it passes. Or just show it the finger and run.
You are going to be just fine.
To my mentor, this is probably the hardest bit to write as you have had the biggest impact on my life. I can't say much more than I have already told you, cried to you, sat on a balcony and wined to you. Doll, you rock my party shoes off, literally! Our bond is unbreakable, (unless you try break it and then I might break you *winkyface*) our bond is like trance in Kai, it just goes, on and on and on. Yeah ok, so like…
You are going to be just fine.
To my once upon a time friend, dude, what the hell happened? Are we just allowed to be distant and not talk? You and I have conquered the world together - sussed out every inch of a universal mind and shared a love for creativity like no other friends. You let a good thing go man, I am disappointed in you. It never had to be like this - unless you needed it to be. In that case I have some things to tell you: Get a grip of your life and spread those wings. You are far too talented and strong minded for this little town. Let go and go find a life you want to live. Other than that,
I guess you are going to be just fine.
To myself, this is a bit scary. You are leaving behind a lot of comforting thoughts and reliable habits. Sunday lie ins with your best friends are going to have to be put on hold for a while. Your social life is going to be tough, non of this walking into a place and knowing you'll see a familiar face. This is starting from the beginning again. I just want you to know that the grass isn't greener, it's exactly the same. You'll have to work hard at life this time, and eventually the grass will start to grow. No depending on others for happiness, or your mum for a sneaky buck. It's time to explore and increase that potential. You have so much to offer, believe in yourself and you'll see.
You are going to be just fine.
To my single mom, the day you told me I was afriad for you, in my mind it was too soon, you hadn't finished being a reckless 20-something with me, we had so many nights and hangovers to deal with. I wasn't ready for you to leave my single side. But you had found love. Today a year later I see this person I have never met before. She is brave and responsible and takes motherhood in her stride. It's not easy for you, but babe you make it work. I remember when we were kids and you used me as your scape goat - your yard was full of milkshake and your dad knew it! Then I see this woman holding this bundle of joy, a creation made by you babe. It fills me with awe, love and light.
You are going to be just fine.
To my sister, it's been 17 years of family friendship. Remind me how we lasted this long? Oh the sea by the house. My second home filled with family and love. You too are a mom after my own heart, so brave and fearless. Your mind is incredible and your boldness bowls me over - you've become your own woman, you don't give a shit about the world but somehow do it your own way that does. Christmas will always be our day, you know wherever I am in the world I'll come home. If I could leave you with one thing it would be this: open your heart. Love is waiting for you, it's scary and hell, it's crazy but it will complete you. Let it in, be honest and kind. You don't always need to be so tough.
You are going to be just fine.
To my nesquick, 20 years of laughs and our life hasn't even begun. You are the most honest person in the world. It's been so many years of sharing secrets and sad moments. You know me better than I even know myself, when we are together, which is sadly seldom these days, you make me laugh until I pee. You've seen me at my darkest hour and yet in the most brutally, honest way possible tell me to get a life and move on. You my friend, have taught me the most about life, when something doesn't go your way smile until it passes. Or just show it the finger and run.
You are going to be just fine.
To my mentor, this is probably the hardest bit to write as you have had the biggest impact on my life. I can't say much more than I have already told you, cried to you, sat on a balcony and wined to you. Doll, you rock my party shoes off, literally! Our bond is unbreakable, (unless you try break it and then I might break you *winkyface*) our bond is like trance in Kai, it just goes, on and on and on. Yeah ok, so like…
You are going to be just fine.
To my once upon a time friend, dude, what the hell happened? Are we just allowed to be distant and not talk? You and I have conquered the world together - sussed out every inch of a universal mind and shared a love for creativity like no other friends. You let a good thing go man, I am disappointed in you. It never had to be like this - unless you needed it to be. In that case I have some things to tell you: Get a grip of your life and spread those wings. You are far too talented and strong minded for this little town. Let go and go find a life you want to live. Other than that,
I guess you are going to be just fine.
To myself, this is a bit scary. You are leaving behind a lot of comforting thoughts and reliable habits. Sunday lie ins with your best friends are going to have to be put on hold for a while. Your social life is going to be tough, non of this walking into a place and knowing you'll see a familiar face. This is starting from the beginning again. I just want you to know that the grass isn't greener, it's exactly the same. You'll have to work hard at life this time, and eventually the grass will start to grow. No depending on others for happiness, or your mum for a sneaky buck. It's time to explore and increase that potential. You have so much to offer, believe in yourself and you'll see.
You are going to be just fine.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
A fellow blogger says it best - Day 7
I have been thinking about what to write as my last 'good-bye' to Durban - how to describe the magic, the smell and the comforting humidity that just says, "Relax". What it was like to live in my own flat, far above the city lights, fall asleep to a transporting hum and enjoy the hip and happening of everything on my front door... But then I found this post by a fellow blogger that tells of his arrival to Durban and all the 'new' he encounters, it reminded me of what I felt when I left the comfort of my family home in Kloof Suburbia. And then I got all excited, because guess what guys?! I get to do this ALL over again in THREE DAYS!
So tonight I leave you with his story and perhaps I'll get around to telling you mine too, soon.
Durban. Goodbye suburbia - Rich Armstrong. <----- Click here to jump to his post
So tonight I leave you with his story and perhaps I'll get around to telling you mine too, soon.
Durban. Goodbye suburbia - Rich Armstrong. <----- Click here to jump to his post
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Behind the Scenes - Durban July - Day 6
It's race day in Durban. Which basically means fashion, fun and a whole lot of behind the scenes craziness that you dear race goer's will never have to see.
8am: An early rise as I head down to the course which is already MANIC. Last minute preps to tents, makeup and hair galore for the dancers, promo babes and of course, just to make every ones life more difficult, me.
Today I am in control of getting the launch of our new brand to trend on Twitter. Fabulous I know. Our tent is incredible and you have never seen so many glam'd up souls. And my favourite part - Carl Issacs, the most incredibly talented stylist in SA that I have now dubbed, my bestie.
It's fascinating watching the public swoosh in and out of the tent leaving even more gorgeous than when they flitted in. Outfits, golly there was a time back in the day that I dressed to the nines to attend this event, got horribly drunk and most likely had something stolen. But today I get to enjoy the process that is put in place for the pretty people to enjoy. My new reality of Durban July madness.
Excuse me as I jump from one thing to another here but I am updating as I search, retweet, hashtag and mention as quickly as my little fingers can go. As well as eagerly trying to capture the process of this event manage-madness-ment.
12pm: Right now I am sitting behind the scenes at my makeshift desk on a ground cover that wobbles like the seven seas. In front of me the dancers are rehearsing their routine and oh so gaily, giggle slapping each other as they try make out the running order of the day. Behind me two makeup artists are bitching about clients 'needs and wants', no doubt high on a substance that allows them to get through this 12 hour day. And next to me, well, an entire fish bowl full of Ferrero Rocher's that will need to go out to the pubic, eventually. I have already had about 12.
2pm: I am exhausted. It's been a long day already and the main event is only just getting started. To add salt to the wounds, the network has just gone down to any hope of getting ANYTHING to trend is a lost cause. Plus I think I have just reached the height of my chocolate induced hyper-activeness, leaving me feeling ravenous. The lunch still hasn't arrived and I can see the dancers starting to wilt. 4 more hours to go.
2.25pm: La la la.. Hello network, where art thou?
2.31pm: Just had a good giggle at the MC - lisping for days.
4:00pm: After actually wanting to lose my shit, I decided to take matters into my own hands and snuck into the next-door tent. I raided their buffet and took two tequila's for the team. Amazing what a 'Crew' armband can let you get away with.
Footnote: To all the Durban July goers - I hope you are drunk out of your minds, won a ton of cash and enjoyed every bloody minute of it. Hell you all have no idea what it takes to pull off an event of this magnitude. To the Help, I salute you!
Good night.
Friday, July 5, 2013
10 Things Friday - Day 5
Knowing that I have to put down at least a few words on this bloggy everyday, terrifies me.
So I am going to start with some baby steps.
Organising my life gives me great joy. I may have some control issues but that's just a Tauren trait I'll have to live with. This blog needs some structure to keep me sane, and whilst Friday is the busiest day of the week I need to simplify things. I hereby introduce to you 10 Things Friday, a weekly wrap up of 10 things that have either caught my attention, annoyed me or any 10 things that are just easy to remember - alrightio let's begin.
10 Things Friday - Words For a Week
1. Saturday - Whimsy
2. Sunday - Rinky-Dink
3. Monday - Moot
4. Tuesday - Botheration
5. Wednesday - Discombobulate (Best Word Ever!)
6. Thursday - Drowned
7. Friday - Galvanised
Bonas words:
8. Marsupial (Applies to Friday)
9. Pulchritudinous (Seriously try pronounce this one!)
10. Effervescent (It's just so pretty)
So I am going to start with some baby steps.
Organising my life gives me great joy. I may have some control issues but that's just a Tauren trait I'll have to live with. This blog needs some structure to keep me sane, and whilst Friday is the busiest day of the week I need to simplify things. I hereby introduce to you 10 Things Friday, a weekly wrap up of 10 things that have either caught my attention, annoyed me or any 10 things that are just easy to remember - alrightio let's begin.
10 Things Friday - Words For a Week
1. Saturday - Whimsy
2. Sunday - Rinky-Dink
3. Monday - Moot
4. Tuesday - Botheration
5. Wednesday - Discombobulate (Best Word Ever!)
6. Thursday - Drowned
7. Friday - Galvanised
Bonas words:
8. Marsupial (Applies to Friday)
9. Pulchritudinous (Seriously try pronounce this one!)
10. Effervescent (It's just so pretty)
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Scattered Thoughts - Day 4
I seem to be lazy posting these last couple of days, so much to say but feeling utterly exhausted - my list of stories to post is getting longer, yet I keep putting them off as the 'seriousness' of it all is just too much right now. The move is looming and work is getting more and more demanding. To be quite frank it's barely possible to manage a team of equally talented individuals over Skype and take care of my daily duties. Le Sigh.
And the farewells. Golly. I swear I feel like I am going to be the most missed human in Durban with all these 'events' my friends are hosting in my honour. If only one could tell the tequila bus that it's time to depart.
Routine. Where art thou?
My body is taking a beating with all these gym dates I keep missing and dutifully replacing with glasses of vino. Office hours seem to be any hour of the day and well into the night. Breakfast gets replaced by cigarettes and my bed seems to be any where I land.
What would my dream routine consist of you ask?
Wake up, hop into my jods and shoot off to the stables for an early morning ride.
Get home, eat breakfast and drink my coffee to the updates of the morning news.
Drive to work (This is going to a different experience!), enjoy a day full of creative management and social media awesomeness/challenges.
Leave work, pop into gym and get this hibernating body back to it's summer self.
Get home, make dinner, and crawl into the soft covers and sleep.
Now THAT daily dears. Is a routine looking forward to.
6 more days... Ha ha.
And the farewells. Golly. I swear I feel like I am going to be the most missed human in Durban with all these 'events' my friends are hosting in my honour. If only one could tell the tequila bus that it's time to depart.
Routine. Where art thou?
My body is taking a beating with all these gym dates I keep missing and dutifully replacing with glasses of vino. Office hours seem to be any hour of the day and well into the night. Breakfast gets replaced by cigarettes and my bed seems to be any where I land.
What would my dream routine consist of you ask?
Wake up, hop into my jods and shoot off to the stables for an early morning ride.
Get home, eat breakfast and drink my coffee to the updates of the morning news.
Drive to work (This is going to a different experience!), enjoy a day full of creative management and social media awesomeness/challenges.
Leave work, pop into gym and get this hibernating body back to it's summer self.
Get home, make dinner, and crawl into the soft covers and sleep.
Now THAT daily dears. Is a routine looking forward to.
6 more days... Ha ha.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Don't like it. Change it. - Day 3
It's true.
Media, Social Media, being amazing and rocking it, is just a part of my day.
When you find something you love doing everyday - it becomes and extension of your being, no longer the dredged thought of, "Shoot me now because I have to go to work."
Bottom line. If you hate what you do, change it.
Simple.
Now excuse me whilst I rush back to managing a brand launch event on Twitter. Did I mention that I am in Durban and it's happening in Joburg? Gahd. I love technology.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Hysteria - Day 2
An hour ago I would have written about how rediculously, crazy my day had gone. How I just pushed through it like a little trooper, finding a good rhythm to cocking my gun. As more mails came in, my humorous steel stare turned into a really, real crappy mood. Just shut up and die, day.
But that was then...
Have you ever laughed so hard that every muscle in your body seems to be laughing with you?
The more I heard my happy noises echo off my lonely walls, the more hysterical it all became.
It was loud.
That moment of pure joy and delirium at someone else's expense. The more I paid attention, the crazier I sounded. Lonely, loud, snot and snorts type of laughter. Then the clutch-tummy-tears , OH! The wail of words that fell out of my mouth as I tried find a pause to breathe. My manic bout of heaves.
I wave in the dogs direction and try begin an explanation through my hyena squeaks. But it's all too much. I think I have found a numb point, then it replays. Here we go again..
I. Just. Can't.
You know exactly what it's like, you have been there. And what's even more ridiculous, it stems from that shiny piece of technology you are holding in your hand.
Damn you Autocorrects.
But that was then...
Have you ever laughed so hard that every muscle in your body seems to be laughing with you?
The more I heard my happy noises echo off my lonely walls, the more hysterical it all became.
It was loud.
That moment of pure joy and delirium at someone else's expense. The more I paid attention, the crazier I sounded. Lonely, loud, snot and snorts type of laughter. Then the clutch-tummy-tears , OH! The wail of words that fell out of my mouth as I tried find a pause to breathe. My manic bout of heaves.
I wave in the dogs direction and try begin an explanation through my hyena squeaks. But it's all too much. I think I have found a numb point, then it replays. Here we go again..
I. Just. Can't.
You know exactly what it's like, you have been there. And what's even more ridiculous, it stems from that shiny piece of technology you are holding in your hand.
Damn you Autocorrects.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Three Hundred and Sixty Five Days - Day 1
What happens when life takes over? You forget that you used to love tap, tap, tapping on the keyboard and enrich the world with one smart, witty word. Perhaps you used to write a sentence that changed a mood or made a difference to someone’s day.
Now I just sound like an answering machine.
Hello my name is Jemma, please remind me why I stopped writing and why I wish to carry on?
Beeeeeeeep.
Ok, ok maybe I should take this a bit (more) seriously.
Today is not just any Monday or any 1st day of the month, it's a day that should've started like this: Sitting in traffic en route to my new office in Johannesburg. But instead, it behaved much like my iPhone’s predictive text – un-predicatively humorous. (And not in a funny HA HA way. More like FacePalm Friday at 4.59pm in crisis mode. Laugh because it's almost impossible to cry, way.)
I am still infirmly stuck in Durban waiting for the next really, real moving date.
Jozi, Jolsburg - J to the H B. My mind has moved into my new flat, into this new beginning and into a sense of excitement of discovering a new city network. It’s boxed up a small Durban mentality and unwrapped a fresher way of thought. Yet, it just seems unable to exercise it.
”Be here, be present”, my mum would say.
Durban you old piece of takkie – care to let me go now, pal?
Today marks the beginning of my 365 days of writing. A preparation for book/s, a sanity check, as well as keeping family and friends in the loop of this new life.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of new words.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of a new adventure.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of being a permanent staff member.
Yikes.
I am just going to expand on this for a second with a,
"They may take our lives, but they'll never take out freedom!",
Mel Gibson moment.
Jeez Louise covered in cheese.
I have become so accustomed to floating in and out of coffee shops, laptop in tow, dabbling in the world of Social Media. Living a life rich with selfishness and owned happiness that I have forgotten what it’s like to be caged into a four-walled box.
Did Mel Gibson die in that movie? I don’t remember.
Maybe I'll just start again tomorrow.
Now I just sound like an answering machine.
Hello my name is Jemma, please remind me why I stopped writing and why I wish to carry on?
Beeeeeeeep.
Ok, ok maybe I should take this a bit (more) seriously.
Today is not just any Monday or any 1st day of the month, it's a day that should've started like this: Sitting in traffic en route to my new office in Johannesburg. But instead, it behaved much like my iPhone’s predictive text – un-predicatively humorous. (And not in a funny HA HA way. More like FacePalm Friday at 4.59pm in crisis mode. Laugh because it's almost impossible to cry, way.)
I am still infirmly stuck in Durban waiting for the next really, real moving date.
Jozi, Jolsburg - J to the H B. My mind has moved into my new flat, into this new beginning and into a sense of excitement of discovering a new city network. It’s boxed up a small Durban mentality and unwrapped a fresher way of thought. Yet, it just seems unable to exercise it.
”Be here, be present”, my mum would say.
Durban you old piece of takkie – care to let me go now, pal?
Today marks the beginning of my 365 days of writing. A preparation for book/s, a sanity check, as well as keeping family and friends in the loop of this new life.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of new words.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of a new adventure.
Three Hundred and Sixty Five days of being a permanent staff member.
Yikes.
I am just going to expand on this for a second with a,
"They may take our lives, but they'll never take out freedom!",
Mel Gibson moment.
Jeez Louise covered in cheese.
I have become so accustomed to floating in and out of coffee shops, laptop in tow, dabbling in the world of Social Media. Living a life rich with selfishness and owned happiness that I have forgotten what it’s like to be caged into a four-walled box.
Did Mel Gibson die in that movie? I don’t remember.
Maybe I'll just start again tomorrow.
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