Most of my friends and relatives have become parents and when I just think of that word, I hear a screaching sound.  The sound a sexy fast paced car makes, when it halts to a stop.

 Kids, children, bambinos, little gremlins - whatever you wanna call them, for me it’s ‘Handbrake’.  I am not trying to be negative or cynical about the wonderful gift and joys of bringing a child into this “cough” wonderful world we live in, but let’s face it, it is a huge step and life changing event.

 I too,firmly believe that there should be a licence to have children, as some people are just not equipped to handle them.  It is a colossal responsibility which requires an enormous amount of patience and perseverance.

Wherever we go, parties, outings, the dead ringer of a question always seems to pop up, “So, when is it your turn?”  Well, “When I am old and in an urn.” 
I love children don’t get me wrong, I think they are cute, cuddly and wonderful, especially when you can hand them back to their parents when the crying starts and whiff of smelly nappies fills your nasal passages.

 Thing is, I do want to have a baby some day in my life, but not just right now.  I am still enjoying my youth and my freedom far too much.  I know it sounds selfish, but at least I am being honest with myself.

Why must society dictate to me when the “right” time to have a baby is.  Like, it’s better to have then when you are young, so you can enjoy your life and them more blah blah blah.
My theory is that it is better to have them when you are more mature, patient and wont resent them one day for losing your identity and freedom. The parties and jolling have to come to a halt at some point and that is when I will have the time to focus on my children and be a loving and attentive mom.

By the time my child is 20, I will be dead and buried and not be a burden on them. Okay, maybe that sounds a bit too morbid, but in some instances it does ring true.

To end off on a good note, I will positively announce that I will be joining the likes of new age Hollywood Mom’s in their 40’s in the far off future and sadly envisage that while I am changing nappies and reading bedtime stories, my friends are going on luxury cruises across the Caribbean.

“Sob”

Hon, I think my Biological Clock has started the Tick Tock

Soul, heart, and body, we thus singly name,

Are not in love divisible and distinct,

But each with each inseparably link’d.

One is not honour, and the other shame,

But burn as closely fused as fuel, heat, and flame.

 

They do not love who give the body and keep

The heart ungiven; nor they who yield the soul,

And guard the body.  Love doth give the whole;

It’s range being high as heaven, as ocean deep,

Wide as the realms of air or planet’s curving sweep.

 

By: Alfred Austin

I love my man very much, to the point where I sometimes feel that it may be a co-dependant love. I met him at the young age of 19 and he 20, our love was real, strong, pure and intense.

We have, as many normal relationships, been through the rollercoaster dips and escalations, highs and lows. Fifteen years of being committed to one person, sharing dreams, hopes, fears, tears, laughter, joy, disappointment, disallusionment, anger, hate, lust. All the emotions ever imagined that can immortalise our life so far.

But one thing I have not shared yet is a fear I have had for quite some time. I tend to over analyse things at times, to the detriment of my own sanity. I think I know where this fear has stemmed from, but coming to terms with it and eradicating it, is an entirely different story.

It may seem strange to those of you reading this, but I have a fear of one day waking up and just ‘out of the blue’ realising that I do not love my partner anymore. Am I normal, is this normal? I have tried to fathom where this fear stems from and from what I can remember it is a time in my life when my mom left my dad after twelve years of marriage. I asked my mom why she did not want to make it work and with that she explained to me that she just did not love my dad anymore, not out of anything he did, but that she just outgrew him. I at that age of my life could not understand how a person just falls out of love so easily and this is where the fear must’ve buried deep from within.

Just thinking about it makes my heart pound and an overwhelmingly suffocating feeling surmounts. But now, Get this! In addition to my over analytical mind conjuring all of this up, I now start thinking what if I one day come to that point of my life where I or we both feel we are growing apart and it is either make it work or divorce. What if the Fear stops me from making the right choice. It immobilises me to remain stuck in an unhappy situation. Would that not be worse than the fear itself? How can something so simple, seem so complicated?

I am in no way saying that I am unhappy or feel that I am growing apart, but there are times, just like all relationships, where you feel you are not gelling so well with your partner and those times is when the negativity and insecurity of it all sets in. How do I learn to cope and just go with the flow and live in the present moment. How do I banish thee incontrovertible fear?

D Day reluctantly arrived for me yesterday. Had to be in Pretoria at 11am for my re-test (drivers). To fill urself in, read article: ‘Precious Time and Money Wasted‘ As you can well imagine, I was so not in the mood to go through all of this again. I would rather watch paint dry or go for tooth surgery.

We arrive at the Pretoria Testing Station in Watloo (for some strange reason I have the old song Waterloo running through my head now), only to realise I am at the wrong place! I am meant to be at the Pretoria College, as this is the place where are the appeals are forwarded. So now, trap all the way to the other side of the world to endure painstaking torture.

Finally arrive at my final destination (now I am thinking of the horror flick and realising that this is equivalent to one) Ring the bell at Reception desk and some grumpy african woman (TPA) they call themselves hardly even looking at me takes me for my test.

I start chatting to her trying to break the ice and at least crack a smile from moody blues, only to be completely snubbed!! She was completely and utterly unresponsive and downright rude. I will not let this bitch put me off I tell myself. I think they actually do it on purpose, to intimidate so it’s easy to fuck up and fail.

As I start approaching the car I have visions of getting in,turning the ignition on and mowing the bitch down. Now wouldn’t that be a sight. Okay, back to reality, get my bearings and decide that the best way to mow this bitch down is to be as calm as can be and DO THIS!

So I DO IT! I manage to finally get on the road, obey all my traffic road signs, do all the 5 point checks, give an outstanding emergency stop, that she lifted from her seat. Anway back to the grounds, I then ask her if I passed or not.

Mumbling to me, she tells me that she cannot disclose this to me as yet, reason being that a report has to be sent through as all appeals are handled this way. Policy, procedure, call it fucken what you want, I think it’s absurd. I mean, how the fuck do I know where I went wrong if it so happens she decided to fail me. It all just seems very weird to me. But it’s policy, new South Africa. Fucken grates my liver.

So now I wait.

It’s only a dream! Whew! wipes sweat from brow.  Had the most awful nightmare this morning, dreamt I was 36 years old.  Not that much ahead from where I’m now, but it still caught me by surprise.  All I could think of in my dream, was how near to 40 I was and that I was speedily approaching Society’s Sell By Date.

It’s not that I look old for my age, in fact I look like I’m in my late 20’s and luckily have good genes to thank for that.  The days are whizzing past, years are feeling much shorter and I don’t know if this has anything to do with Global Warming or any weird new scientific explanations.  All I do know, is that my Birthday feels as though it’s celebrated way too often.  My friends know well I always make the joke of “It’s my Birthday Everyday!”  Reason being of the wild party animal I am, but now that saying is starting to ring some truth to it.

Back to my dream, anyway my dad was with me and pointing out this new woman he was interested in.  He was saying that she had gotten fat and was saying that not only is her face old now, but now she doesn’t even have a nice looking body to show for.  To this I replied and said that he mustn’t be so shallow, because at the end of the day Beauty is only skin deep.  Whatever!!  Were those really my words, u can tell I was only dreaming.

The harsh reality is that looks do count.  Physical attraction is very important, we humans are built that way unfortunately.  We live in a self conscious society, shallow as it may seem.   This is what was so disturbing to me in my dream, because we are all going to reach at some point in our lives that fateful day where you realise you are not turning heads anymore.  You become this invisible person that noone really truly listens to, unless you have the wit, humour and intellect of a Woody Allen.

I don’t want the inevitable to come about, so I came to the near conclusion that I will be approaching my life with a healthy eating plan, gym everyday and a positive frame of mind.

 P.S. Guess what song’s playing on Highveld right now?  Forever Young by Rod Stewart.  How Weird.

Pericone Diet Programme Here I AM.

Something I will never seem to comprehend, is why men avoid going to doctors like a hobo avoids gargling with Listerine. It baffles me to no doubt, their leg or arm could be falling off, there could be a tumour the size of the Kimberly Hole, but no, they rather complain about it than actually take necessary action.

Perhaps they enjoy the pain, makes them feel more manly. So are most men into sado-masochism, maybe we woman need to get a paddler and spank the living daylights out of them. We woman have to endure child birth, which is known to be, by far the most excruciating pain experienced. We have to endure menstrual pain every month and still have a smile on our faces. (Okay now im talking sewer water) But nevertheless, we maintain and we visit our doctors when the need arises.

Men shut your pie holes and go see to that Tumour the size of Kimberly! Sort or come short. ‘Nuff said from my piehole.

Wes Craven has a deranged, unhinged imagination indeed.  Being the horror movie lover that I am, I decided to go watch his new movie “The Hills Have Eyes.”  Well near to the end of the movie, I almost had no eyes from squishing them shut most of the time.  Am I becoming soft and precarious I ask myself.

If Wes could fit every unimaginable abhorrence in this movie, he did it in an effective and prudent manner.  I just don’t know if all that impressionable horror stuff is actually good to take in.  I find that movies of today are becoming more blood-soaked and lurid than ever before.  Texas Chainsaw Massacre has nothing on this movie and that’s saying something.  I actually felt deeply disturbed after leaving the movie theatre on Saturday, kept on having these ominous flashbacks.  So, why do I continue watching these sordid movies and torturing that mind of mine.  I need therapy.  Sound of Music, The Hills Are Alive, here I come.

Yes Mense that day is arriving for me pretty soon, I will be doing my “Yet Again” Drivers Licence Test sometime soon.  The testing station in Pretoria contacted me today to inform me of the good news.  Finally my appeal for a re-test has been accepted.  But why am I not that ecstatic from the mere victory of passing the appeal at least?

 I guess it’s because I don’t know if I’m ready for all that torment again, those gut wrenching nerves that almost leaves me breathless and beaten.  I don’t handle nervous situations very well, eventhough I come prepared it still doesnt help.  I drug myself up with Herbex Nerve Tonic to the point where I am totally brain dead.  Maybe that’s where the problem lies, I need to be alert I guess not in La La Land.

 Please all Pray for me, pray that I may be calm enough not to Fuck up and knock any poles in the yard, that I may fucking get out of the yard for once! And that I don’t knock any wandering pedestrians down. PRAY PRAY PRAY.

 Oh YES! and PRAY that my testing officer accepts bribes KIDDING hee hee

Just not feeling the vibe this morning, feel lethargic, aches and pains, NAUSEA!  I feel osiose: ineffective and futile, indolent, idle of fucking absolutely no use!

NAFI: No ambition, Fuck all Interest.  I ponder on how great it must be to be a bear, to hibernate the whole of winter.  Can’t we humans do that too! PLEASSE!  I am now starting to curse the cold Winter a way!  I feel as though I am in dire need of hibernation -  of all my thoughts, feelings, emotions, that is if I had any right now.

 How productive could I be at this point in time, they should just send me home.  I need sleep, dreamland, warmth, comfort.  The see-saw of my existence, the pendulum swing of my emotions. 

 Hope this feeling of unfeeling subsides.

I don’t know whether blame should be placed on hormones or if it’s just that some are born with the ‘Joan Collins’ Silver Spoon of Bitchiness. Those pretentious false boobed bitches who think their farts don’t stink and that anyone not wearing Guess or any other label are just beneath them.

Headed off to Capellos yesterday late afternoon for a few sundowners with my cuz. We were happily chatting and guzzling our strawberry daquiris at the bar when some blonde bitch bit on the plumpish side pushes my cousin into oblivion. Barely gaining her balance, my cousin angrily retorts by saying ‘Do you Mind!’ With this “Fat Actress” replies, “Do you have a Problem?”

Cousin: “Hell yes! you just pushed me that I fell almost into the next guy”.

Fat Actress: “Well I need to order a Drink!”

Cousin: “Well then say excuse me, i’d like to get a drink please!”

Fat Actress: mumbles something under her breath

Cousin: “Maybe u need to lose some weight and then u could easily get passed people.”

Fat Actress: “U Can’t Change Ur Face”

Cousin: “Why would I want to” (my cousin is by no means ugly)

Then the defamatory comments subside somewhat, we order more drinks and continue talking. I then loudily mention why cant people just have manners and not be so highly strung.

To This ‘Miss Piggy” again opens her big FAT mouth to say she’s a psychologist and do we need her card

Me: LOL If u r a psychologist, I feel extremely sorry for your patients, because clearly you are the one who has serious issues.

Fat Actress: To my cousin, you need collagen on ur lips

Cousin: “u Need Lipo”

Next thing I know both my cousin and I are standing drenched in red wine, dripping off our faces, The unstable fat beeeach threw wine in our faces. Classic movie scene, cousin burns her with cigarette and her hair somewhat catches alight. Being centre stage with everyone watching, we began laughing hysterically from the mere sight of eachother. Our red stained faces and hair, but eventhough it was a tad embarrassing, we showed everyone what good sports we were while the insecure beeeach went down in flames, literally. Okay, her hair sizzled in a flame.

Needless to say we carried on partying and enjoyed ourselves to no end, smelling like a brewery no doubt. while the bad mannered instigator went home with singed hair and a singed ego. Did she deserve the blatant truth being thrown her way, hell yes! In fact I think it’s the best therapy she will ever get to maybe lose a few pounds.