Let's not waste one another's time

As soon as I actually have anything to say, that's NOT an incessant whining, you'll know.

If ever.

And so….the trend continues….

First, let me regale you with a little tale illustrating one of the idiosyncrasies I call my own, which might seem a little freaky and weird to others.

I bought my first set of baby clothes when I was 21, 2 years before I got married, and 7 years before I got pregnant. Why? Because I wanted to be a mother that much. I had quite a collection going by the time I peed on the stick.

I know. Weird. Get over it.

Now, even getting divorced, and realising that I might never meet a man I want to be in a serious relationship with, didn’t deter me from buying baby wear…for the next baby, you see? Cos, the plan always was, to have at least 2 kids. I even PROMISED myself that I’d be pregnant before my 35th b-day.

Now, my 35th birthday is charging down on me, and my getting pregnant before then is about as likely as South Africa’s northernmost inland province being hit by a freak tsunami, before 21st June. Global warming taken into account, and all.

Okay, back to the reason for this delightful little story. Today, I gave away the little pile of baby things I kept in a dark corner of my cupboard. Last night, I took them out, bawling like a howler monkey, and divided them into 2 little piles. One, for baby boys, the other, for girls. The boy pile got wrapped, and presented to my pregnant friend, Nina, who will never know how much it tore me up to hand her that little blue package. The other, I asked my mom to give to The Sister (who is currently waiting for her blood work to confirm her third pregnancy).

Thing is, I’ve tried to give the clothes away before, and I couldn’t. It just represents so much to me, that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I made a deal with the Beautiful Ones, that if The Sister got pregnant (she was having trouble for quite a few months), I would give up the clothes. Her pregnancy would be my sign, that this was what I needed to do.

So, another end. For me, a really, really sad one. But, one that was a long time coming, and necessary. I’m sure that I’ll spend some time staring at the little corner that’s now empty, crying. But you know, it’s time to stop being fanciful, and face reality. Which is all I have, really, even if it is harsh, and horrid. At least it’s the truth.

So...... something happened

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am in exactly the same spot, emotionally, as I was when I did the previous post. It’s just that something strangely positive happened, and that, in my life, is rare.

I’ve been having these running battles with the Beautiful Ones, telling them that I don’t want to be here, and then waking up again …. Here…..and cursing them for not listening. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Spent Easter weekend with the Father’s side of the family, and surprised myself by telling The Sister, that, should I get the opportunity now, I would skip the country, and had to hold back a gasp, realising, I’ve said it! There’s now taking it back now!

And then, yesterday, I was surfing, having typed “working abroad” as my Yahoo search. Stumbled upon a site for a reqruitment agency placing contractors in the Cayman Islands. Thinking to myself “ that actually sounds rather ideal”, I did a little more research, and decided that if, one day, I actually get my shit together, I’ll send them my CV.

The shit I need to get together, is a document my employer has owed me for the past 2 tax seasons, without which, I am basically screwed. So, I can’t really go anywhere until he does the right thing.

Anyway, to get back to the original storyline… I visited a book store nearby, and saw that they’re having a sale. There’s this book I’ve been eyeing for months now, but it’s priced way to high, so yesterday I interrupted the battle I was having with the Beautiful Ones (in my mind, of course), to remark that it would be really great to find that book on sale, kinda as a way to illustrate how nothing’s going my way these days, I walked around the sale tables, and lo and behold, against the wall ….the book I want. Marked down, ever so slightly. Still can’t afford it, but it sorta felt like the Beautiful Ones was trying to rub my nose in it. Maybe trying to tell me that they were still around, and that they were looking out for me.

Getting back to the office, the boss informs me that he spent his Easter Weekend doing his taxes, which are in arrears with at least 4 years, and that the documents he owes me, are on their way!!!

I refuse to become all optimistic and bushy-tailed about the future, but hey, at least I feel like there’s someone up there listening to me, again. So maybe, I’ll stop shouting at them for a moment every now and then. And maybe, just maybe, I’m not as gone as I thought.

Then again, maybe it’s that bastard Hope trying to burrow its way in again.

Nothing

Nothing left. Of me, or for me.

My Life Is Complicated

An idiot I used to know told me this once, as an excuse not to have to deal with me. (On an aside, I find it interesting how I struggle to chug along my pleasantly neutral lines these days, I used to be able to call ANYONE “nice”.)

Aaaaanyway, initially, it really pissed me off that he would use such a flimsy excuse. Then, I thought about the remark, and came to the conclusion that, although he used it as a really bad reason to avoid being honest with me, he was actually right, in a round-about kinda way.

I’ve even been able to discern certain reasons as to why someone else might perceive this to be accurate, which I will now proceed to list (in no particular order):

• I am a single mom, and place my son’s welfare above everything else;
• We share a house with my mom, who is unable to afford living alone, so should I find alternate accommodation, she’s basically homeless;
• I expect to be treated as an equal, and not a ‘helpless’ woman;
• We collectively have 6 dogs, 1 cat, 2 rats, and around 5 fish (last count);
• I lug a huge amount of emotional baggage around with me, especially about men;
• My religious views are not exactly ‘mainstream’;
• I shun most traditional views and rituals;
• I know what I don’t want, as opposed to what I want;
• As the years trot by, I become more and more crusty and full of shit;
• I’m not easily intimidated;
• I want more kids;
• The one (kid) I have has ADHD, and has to follow a special eating plan, together with being ‘brushed’ (yes, like grooming a puppy) every day. The ADHD makes him really, really, active, and really, really, demanding when it comes to attention.


Now, I can certainly see how that might make me ‘complicated’ in people’s eyes, don’t you? (Yeah, took me a while, too, but hey, different strokes, and all that). So, more reasons I guess, proving why I’m better off alone.

Now, if only I could convince my heart of that, we’ll be a little less miserable (I’m just guessing at this stage).

I am not coping. This is fact.

My daily programme looks as follows:

06:00 Wake up, damn myself for being alive, get up
06:10 Force / shout my 6-year old out of bed.
06:11 Try to get him to decide what to have for breakfast
06:15 Force my son to decide what to have for breakfast
06:18 See that he eats
06:20 Start ironing his school clothes
06:22 Take his clothes to where he’s laying on the couch, ask him to get dressed
06:26 Get dressed myself
06:30 Threaten him to get him to dress
06:33 Ask him to jump on his trampoline (therapist recommended this for better concentration at school)
06:35 Shout at him to come brush his teeth, brush own teeth
06:38 Force him to brush his teeth
06:40 Try to get everybody out of the house, after putting his lunch in his bag, and grabbing something like an apple for myself.
06:45 See what a mess I am, in the car’s rear-view mirror.
07:15 Drop him off at school
07:25 Arrive at work
Work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work
12:00 Use lunch time to pick up groceries for the house and dinner, reading label after label to ensure Misha is allowed to have it.
Work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work
16:00 Leave desk to walk the 2km’s to TAFKA Chief Advisor’s office, with my arms full of bags
16:15 Arrive, take a brief break to read the local paper
16:30 Leave with TAFKACA
16:40 Pick Misha up from school
17:00 Arrive home
17:10 Settle Misha to watch an hour of cartoons
17:15 Start dinner
18:00 Serve dinner, and actually sit down to eat my own dinner.
18:30 Try to get Misha to do homework.
18:40 Force Misha to do homework
19:10 Comfort my crying son, who gets so frustrated with homework that he cries every night
19:12 Leave his room so he won’t see me cry because I am so freaked out by how much he struggles
19:20 Sit down to watch a programme, while “brushing” him (another technique recommended by therapist)
19:30 Serve dessert, and get him something to drink, make myself coffee
20:30 Brush Misha’s teeth
20:35 Tuck Misha in
20:40 Pack Misha’s lunch for tomorrow
21:00 Sit in front of the tv, mind churning, trying to swallow down the panic
21:25 Feed the elderly dog who sleeps inside
21:30 Take a bath
22:00 Prepare the perculator for tomorrow morning
22:15 Brush my teeth
22:30 Lie in bed, trying to calm down and sleep
22:45 Feel the tiredness seep through my being, wish I was dead.
23:00 Decide it’s useless to cry, since it only makes my eyes puffy, and doesn’t change anything. Wish I don’t wake up tomorrow morning.

The End (I wish)

Rinse, Repeat.

Mythbustin' 101

You know what I find fascinating? How certain things are sooooo obvious once you actually think about them, sooooo easy to classify and file away.

I’ve (for the last 2 years or so) systematically been assigning friendships to the past. And no, I don’t mean “losing” friends, I mean ending friendships. Not in a “Fuck you!”, “No, fuck you!” kind of way, but in a quiet, I’m-just-not-available anymore, kinda way. Initially, I assigned this to the delightful series of endings I’ve been having, but yesterday it dawned on me, that, in all (and I mean ALL) my friendships, I’ve been the one doing the supporting, the encouraging, the comforting. My very first friendship, that lasted all of 10 years, was like that, and each and every one inbetween then and now. Now, I am of the opinion, that that’s not what a friendship is supposed to be.

This does seem to be the main theme currently featuring in my life, doesn’t it? This pattern of, in effect, begging people to use me.

Do I miss my friendships? You know, in a certain distant, dispassionate way, I realise that being this isolated cannot be healthy…. But at the same time, the being-taken-for-granted, and the disregard for my feelings, no, I don’t miss that. I do miss the people, the souls, I guess. But, hopefully I’m breaking a vicious circle that was starting to get very self-destructive, and that can only be a good thing.

Like I said previously, I just hope that there’s a healthier beginning at the end of this, and not just another sheer drop to nothing.

One more myth busted, I can survive without being used as a human tissue. Live and learn baby, live and learn.

Enough With The Endings Already!!

According to Numerology (and yes, I do believe in that crap!), 2008 is both year of endings, and one of new beginnings for me. I am at the end of a 9 year cycle, and supposedly embarking on the next 9 year cycle.

Now, according to various different sources (astrology, my heart etc etc), I’m hoping to start a brand new day, and phase of my life, one that will be a little brighter, one that would allow me a little happiness, this time around. Cos, let’s be frank, the previous 9 years, sucked Donkey Dick. And I mean BIG TIME!

So far, the endings are coming fast and furious, but there ain’t no joyous sunrises, sista. Sooooo many endings, sooooo many dreams that just ….deflated, and ….ended.
They've just gone, with nothing positive to replace them. Just me, stuck with these huge gaps, like a building that’s had parts of it blown off, so you can see living rooms, and staircases that just stops, mid-air.

Its gotten so bad, I’ve taken to wondering why I even bother eating healthy, why I don’t drink, why I don’t pop a pill every day. I mean, if this is it, then what the fuck is the use?

So, I am officially requesting an ending to the endings. Or alternatively, an actual happy new beginning, for once. Jaybus C Hrist, for ONCE, just frigging ONCE! Just. Once.

Gripe d'jour

Have you ever noticed that some people get away with sliding their responsibilities off on someone else’s shoulders, their whole lives? They always manage to draw someone in, willing to carry the burden for them.

I used to be that ass, the one with the bent shoulders, for my ex. Now, he has someone else. Which I don’t get. I mean, how? How do you bluff your way through life, how do you pretend to a grown-up, and get away with it? I know, this is not supposed to matter to me, but, when he tries to make me communicate any of my son’s needs to his new ass (as in donkey, beast of burden), I get SO pissed off. The way I see it, he is the one with the responsibility toward his son, which is why he’s the one I talk to. If he, once he knows what’s going on, chooses to pass it on, and she’s willing to take it, then so be it, right? But I sure as hell ain’t making my arrangements via a third person. This way, although he still shrugs it off, and tells me he forgot, at least I have the knowledge that I did my bit. Which, in absolutely no way, makes up for the fact that he shirks every responsibility he has, but at least he knows that I know.

One thing I don’t deal with well at all, though, is the fact that we work SO hard when my son is with me, to build up his confidence, to work on his concentration, to eat right, to take the supplements. And then, he spends a weekend with his father, and everything is undone. And it takes 2 weeks to get him back on track, then he spends a weekend with his father, and it all starts again. This eternal circle from hell, for the rest of my adult life.

So, I guess what I’m griping about here, is that people who just refuse to shoulder any responsibility, always get away with it, cos they surround themselves with “enablers”, and that pisses me off. 100% of the time, they don’t even register the fact that their ‘slapgatgeit’ (lame-assedness) ripple through so many other lives, too. Lives that did not ask for it, and that do not volunteer to carry others’ burdens, too. Like my son, who didn’t ask for any of this.

Significant Endings

So, yesterday I did something with a lot of significance, for me.

I undid something that was done in 2005, as a final gesture of closure. Now, I realise that I’m being pretty cryptic, but since there are people I’m keeping out of the loop, this is as specific as I’m willing to get. I have been wanting to do this for a very long time, and for different reasons. First, it was to be a gesture of Hope. Then, it became a means of ending Hope, of drawing the line under Hope, and saying: “Ok, it’s done now. These are the final figures.”

So, yesterday was sad for me.

Strangely though, today I feel relieved. Not carrying all that hopeless Hope around with me, is good.

I'm grateful ....

Today, I may be feeling shitty, but I'm grateful that I am not the 30-year old, newlywed collegue that, after collapsing on Friday, is undergoing brain surgery to see whether the tumor, that fills a third of her brain cavity, can be removed.

Today, I'm thankful for life, such as it is.

I do! I Do! I DO believe in fairies! I do! I do! I DO believe in fairies ......

For anyone who missed it, the title is a line from "Peter Pan".

The scene in which Tinkerbelle bravely drinks poison Hook left in the "medicine" (water in a flower cup) that Wendy left for Peter, before she was kidnapped by the pirates. So, Tink drinks the poison, to save Peter's life, and slowly, her light goes out. Peter cries, and starts repeating the abovementioned mantra, until eventually, everybody in Neverland (barring most of the pirates, and Hook, of course) takes it up, and restores Tinkerbelle to her rude, obnoxious, fairy-self.

See, when you say, "There's no such thing as ...." (you know, the f-word, I'm not gonna specify, for fear of one of them dropping dead somewhere), you kill them. Cos you gotta believe, for them to keep existing. For fairy balls to take place in fairy circles, and for children to see glimpses of pretty, shiny, flying things in forests, you gotta believe.

So, even though I haven't seen it myself, I'm not gonna say .... (you know, the l-word)... doesn't exist, cos in order for people to experience love, and find love in the world, you gotta believe in it.

Yesterday

Yesterday, my ex kidnapped my son from school to take him to a therapist who’s name he got from a friend, without knowing what she actually does.

Yesterday, my son wrote his name, then crossed it out again and again, because he is somehow “not right”.

Yesterday, my sister told me to report my son’s teacher for letting him go with his father.

Yesterday I cried at work, twice, in the open-plan office I share with 19 people.

Yesterday was not a good day.

Terribly cheery (I'm being sarcastic)

Sometimes, I just don’t see the point. Like today. I am miserable, hate everything & everybody around me, hate everything about my life. Last night, I lay in bed, fielding my son’s kicks to the stomach and face (he’s a rough sleeper, and was in bed with me), and started wondering, what the fuck am I still doing here? I mean, WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE?

Let’s see, working a dead end job for a questionable person, and an even more questionable salary. Worrying about making ends meet, every day. Trying to change my opinions about the rest of the human race to include at least SOME positive adjectives. Regretting dreams that were just never born. Fighting, each and every day, to try and make life easier for my son (dealing with a disheartened 6 year old, while being dejected myself, is no picnic), and friends …. yeah …. friends. I’ve come to the realisation that I’m better off without most of the people I call friends.

See, I’m a cheerful person, on the surface. Which apparently makes my ‘friends’ feel like they have the right to bitch and moan, but on the rare occasion that I feel the need to vent, they sit and stare into the distance with these vacant expressions, before changing the subject back to them, rather artlessly. Social isolation has a certain tranquillity to it, making the aggravation of trying to get your friends to show the same respect you do, null and void.

And men, ah men, my favourite subject. No matter how hard I try, they just keep proving my beliefs are correct. Which is not a good thing. Causal friends who find a way to turn ANY and EVERY subject and discussion into a innuendo filled, sexually suggestive torture session. And, no matter how hard I try to keep things on a platonic level, drag me down into sticky, revolting place. The image I see in my mind’s eye, is me, bound and gagged in a cave where the stalagtites drip semen onto me, running into my eyes, filling my nose, making every moment of what’s supposed to be fun, a horrid and gruesome experience. Like I’m gagging on it, and no matter how hard I try, sex is the one and only thing men see when they look at me.

Sometimes I feel like a comet, hurtling through spacewithout direction or goal, heavy enough to crush planets, moons, myself, but too light to carry everything I have heaped on myself. Nothing in every direction, nothing but time passing, with nothing to show at the end of it.

So what’s the point? Why should I be here? I honestly don’t know, and I honestly wish I wasn’t. Yes, tomorrow I’ll probably smile at you again, should you see me somewhere. But, maybe if you actually bothered to look at my eyes, you’d see that behind that smile, is a big empty nothing. The final frontier. Fuck-all. Nothing.

You have yourself a good day now, y'hear?

Maternal Instinct & Mourning

You know, some women say they don’t feel it at all. Which I find totally incomprehensible. I get that you might not want babies at a certain stage of your life, but I sped past there at 13, if I remember correctly.

One of my earliest happy memories, is that of carrying a Daschund around on my hip like a child. Her name was Cupid, and she was my baby. So much so, that she actually waited for me to pick her up whenever she saw me. My point is that I have an excess of the ‘mothering gene’. But, it’s limited to small babies, and animals. Kids above say, 2, I have no desire to squirrel away, and raise as my own. Under that, I have to actually restrain myself, or I might try to grab and run away with said child. Mmmmm, seeing that in print, makes it look a little nutty, eh?

When I decided to embrace my motherly instincts, I decided that I would like to have 3-4 kids, ‘when I was grown up’. But, I also decided that I would wait until I reached a ‘proper age’, and 28 seemed adult enough. So, I waited until the year I turned 28, and, despite being in a bad marriage, that had spiralled waaaay past “too late”, I got pregnant, and had my son.

A decision I have never regretted. Even though there are days that I feel hopelessly unable to cope. Something I do regret though, is waiting so long. Looking back, if I had consented to start a family sooner, I might have had at least 2 babies to mother, and not have felt the loss of every potential baby, on a monthly basis, as a horrible, tearful mistake. I cry every month, for the babies I feel I should have had.

My son’s very obvious loneliness, makes this worse. I know, there are other options, and having more children is not impossible, even though I haven’t been in what could be termed a ‘stable relationship’ in almost 7 years. Thing is, I simply cannot afford it. I have no medical plan/aid, and can’t afford one. And even if I did turn moronic, and got pregnant despite not being able to afford giving birth, there are no males anywhere in my current world, I would be interested in having as a father for a child of mine.

All the logic aside, I ache for a baby, I see my son in his school uniform, and feel like I would stop time if I had the means. I adore him, but I want my baby back. I want to scream, and beat against windows, and fall to my knees keening and heaping ash on my head. I want to mourn. Mourn in a uncomfortable, ugly way, for the babies I never had.

Overall .....Kinda shitty

This week. Yes, I've had plenty of good moments, but overall, I'd have to give it a 2, if we were grading on 10 being BRILLIANT!

There are lots of reasons this is so, and I've picked two, to highlight. First, I've been emotionally wrought, I don't know why, so that's all I'm sayin about that. Second, harrassment. The kind that men do to women, and think that it's "weird" if you don't appreciate the lewd comments, the uninvited attention, the remarks, looks, touches, e-mails, sms's, calls.

Most of the time I keep my head down, avoid eye-contact, and when I'm accosted make it VERY clear that I ain't interested. But, when I try and be better (read happy), that doesn't work too well, and I seem to attract people like a sex-worker attracts STD's. And this week, it's bugged me. A lot. A huge helluva lot, actually.

Men I know, friends, strangers, homeless people, well suited luxury car drivers.... this message is meant for you. I realise that this makes me a bitch in some people's eyes, but I do no, repeat DO THE FUCK NOT appreciate you trying to get into my pants! I AM NOT INTERESTED! As a matter of fact, all your advances does; is PISS ME OFF!

Guess why? Ah pshaw, go-an, guess, betcha don't get it.
(Deep breath)
I am more than a vagina with a body attached to it!
(A chorus of gasps and horrified faces all around)
Yep. Sorry for the shocker guys, but MY VAGINA is NOT INTERESTED. And, should you be one of the stoopid boys that ogled me this week, neither is the rest of me.

Ta.

Refer previous post

To the birthday boy at the office:

NO! I DO NOT WANT TO BE YOUR GAWDAMN BIRTHDAY GIFT.
FERFUCKSSAKES!

What made me smile today ....

2 beautiful, fearless, female sparrows browsing a supermarket aisle with me. Chattering as they sat in the aisle, waiting for me to pass before flying to the top shelf.

Hi, my name is Sylphi, and I’m an Obsessive Compulsive

I count stuff, add stuff, divide stuff, drive myself bonkers, in short. I obsessively ponder past relationships, and never never ever give up on “why did this happen”, “why did that happen”, even though it has NO relevance on where I am currently. I hash over all 4 my major past relationships on a daily basis. I can tell you exactly how many ‘s’, ‘r’s, and t’s there are on the notice behind the toilet door. And when driving behind a car, give me 2 minutes, and I’ll tell you what the registration plate adds up to, or make a word with the letters. I know, it’s silly. But, it bugs the shit out of me.

Not many people know that I spend a good deal of my time on meaningless, distracting, repetative actions. Told TAFKN Chief Advisor once. “MM, good for enhancing your math abilities” she says. And I’m thinking, ooh, great take on a mental disorder, I gotta remember that!

Actually, today I was gonna blog about my aching joints, to be precise my aching right shoulder and hip joints. But, upon being told by TAF…Chief Advisor that this is due to a feeling of being unloved (as stated by a well-known spiritually minded guru), I changed my mind. Cos, it just rang too true, and frankly, I ain’t in the mood for the whole emotional analysis thingie.

So, my OCD is what you got instead. Lucky you.

Animé Me

When I picture myself I in my mind, I do so in a variety of ways. There’s the image I see in the mirror, and let’s face it, we all have an inaccurate view of what we see, don’t we? Then there’s the way I picture myself when doing chakra activation, like a hieroglyph picture of a person, all linear and beautiful. There’s Bullet-Proof Girl, who’s more like a cardboard cut-out to put in front of the real me, when Real Me is scared witless. And then, the picture I want to chat about, there’s the (mmm, I’m unsure of what to call her….) subconscious, emotive part of me, I guess.

Her, I see as an animé-type cartoon girl, in a very specific setting. This started probably about 2 years ago, when she started out as this character sitting on an athol probably about 2mx2m, with her head down on her knees. She only very rarely lifted her blonde head, to reveal tired, sad blue eyes, shiny with tears. Then, she progressed to getting up and pacing this Lilliputhian island, calling to someone. I could never quite get who she was looking for, but the emotion she projected was desperation, laced with a tad of hysteria. She stopped calling after a few months, and even the pacing finally came to an end. She sat down again, which in a way, was even sadder than the calling. I made an effort for a while, not to think about her, and not to look for her in my mind.

These days, when I think of her, she’s walking briskly along a dirt road in a jungle somewhere, and doing this funny little sideways jig every few steps. Her heart has lost the heaviness, and her eyes are shining with smiles, like she’s trying hard not to laugh out loud at a private joke. She makes me wanna share the smile, and her happiness makes me catch my breath, before I settle down. I don’t know where she’s going, and I don’t much care, as long as the jig and the sheer joy stays, I’m good!

General Pissed-offedness

Ok, today I have something to gripe about. Big time. That eternal struggle most women have (and some men, too, although they seriously avoid admitting it!) , WEIGHT. More specifically, weight gain. And, inevitably, the desire for weight loss.

I have never been hugely overweight, and probably won’t be, because as a general rule, I eat healthy-ish. But, past the horrors of the December holiday season, I have not gotten unscathed. I’ve gained weight. Not a huge amount, but enough in the wrong places, to piss me off. I HATE the feeling of a belt or band that strains against my tummy. I HATE IT. I hate pulling my shirt up, and seeing ANY kind of flab even suggesting a ‘hang-over’ on said belt or band. Sweet lord Krishna, I DETEST IT, in the most serious terms imaginable. Because, this is the difficult area of my body, my upper abs, no existo. So, the holiday season, coupled with an expired gym subscription, created the most abominable of mornings today. A tight fitting skirt, with the beginnings of a ‘hang-over’. Immediate pissed-offedness. Immediate thoughts of purchasing a bottle of “Jungle Juice”, a very popular pharmacy mix of appetite surpressants, and stimulants like caffeine, that makes the rounds around here in summer – a lot – that I generally scoff at. Vile stuff that sends the gag reflex into overdrive when smelled. Thing is, I’m usually not part of the whole “Oooh, I need to loose some weight” scene, basically that attitude women display, irritates the crap out of me. But, when I feel like I have to pull at my clothes like an impatient 2-year old, I get pretty angry.

Yes, I should invest in some kind of exercise. The problem though, is multi-dimensional. I currently have NO financial resources. I currently have no running shoes. I do not currently own a bicycle. I do not currently have a season ticket to our public pool. I cannot go for walks at home, it is not safe. So, this is all adding to the general pissed-offedness I am experiencing at the moment. I am absolutely and totally disgusted with my body, and that is not good.

Greetings from the Goddess

I haven’t blogged in quite a while, and I have no legitimate reasons for it. Just haven’t had that much to gripe about, I guess. And no, I'm not referring to myself in the title, read on, and all will become clear.

As I’ve decided that this is going to be a MUCH better year than last, I’m determined not to give in to the blues I inspire in myself, so easily. So far, it’s going well. ‘Cept for today, today I’m too tired to be cheery…… Feels like I didn’t sleep at all. Though I probably did, but not much. Part insomnia, part restless brain, BIG part mosquito party on any of my exposed limbage.

What never ceases to amaze me, is the extent to which me being in a good space, affects the people around me. And I don’t only mean the people in my immediate vicinity. I’m talking about people like JC, and Internet friends that I’ve stopped contact with mooooooooonths ago, all of a sudden try to make contact again. It’s just too strange to be co-incidental. I’ve had sms’s from JC three times this year already! Which is probably the same amount as the whole of last year!! Weird, but nice weird.

Had a strange little encounter with a snake the other day: I was fiddling with a climber I planted by my front door, trying to get it to go up a pillar it doesn’t like. Stepping back, I noticed a snake, placidly eyeing me, about 10 centimetres from where I’d just been fiddling. Now, as is programmed into most mammals with a bit of sense, snakes scare me, but, I usually fight the urge to DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY that most people get, because I also respect them greatly. They are beautiful, remarkable creatures. So, I screamed like a banshee and summoned TAFKA Chief Advisor to the scene, grabbed a stick and we proceeded to remove the snake from the yard, as gently as possible. When it was safely on the other side of the fence, and being encouraged (rather artlessly with said stick) to move slither into the grasses, it hissed and showed off a beautiful pitch black palate. Not good for the nerves, but gorgeous. Turns out, it was most probably a “Eiervreter” (Egg Eater), non-venomous. Now, I’ve been wondering about this, and checked out what the symbolism behind a snake would be, which is, wait for it……… Rebirth, the shedding of old skin/ lives and starting afresh. Now isn’t that a beautiful message? Snakes are associated with the Archetypal Goddess, the one from before all religions, because of the way women were seen as magical beings, who could bleed and not die, and give birth to new life.

Thanks, Beautiful One, I appreciate the sentiment.

Stuff so far

One friend had a baby boy, very skinny, with a very Don King-esque hairstyle.

One friend got engaged.

One friend started a new job.

One friend found out she's pregnant, and single.

JC disappeared into the ether - again.

Baby Bro just left for a 3 month stint in the US.

My baby starts school tomorrow.

Still feel optimistic, this is going to be the Good Year.

This year will be different!

I have decreed it so. I’ve decided that I’m having a great 2008.

So, welcome baby 2008, I’m convinced we’re off on brilliant adventures, you and I. Hang on to your hat, we’re gonna kick us up some happiness!