Be careful what you wish for, well that truly rings true for me currently. I left my last job because I was not busy enough and felt my brain was turning into mush. Even though it seemed like quite an exciting job at the time, working for two Private Investigators, it was far from that. I thought I would get to see and hear interesting juicy stuff, like you do on an episode of Cheaters, but it was mainly corporate investigations of fraud, theft and reference checks. In Jo’burg that’s like ’strawberry jam on toast’.

So I left, I had put my C.V. on the internet and gone to a couple of personnel agencies and then I got the call. The interview turned out to be more than successful and I started straight away. I wanted to be busy, damn did I get my wish! I certainly manifested it and now I am not sure I want it. I work for 7 psychologists, seven! Pedantic, painfully analytical therapists who in my opinion have more issues than their patients.

I have my own issues and now I have to deal with others’ as well, and the owner of the centre called me in last week for a quick session to explain to me how they got to choose me for the job. Started off on saying how spiritual she and her partner of the business are and how they believe in manifestations and energies and so forth. Well, I am too all for that, but it just seemed to me like a sales pitch at the time.

She explained how her husband had died from a heart attack two years ago and how the nitty gritties of the business took a bit of a backfall. They then employed a lovely lady who was the backbone of the reception etc. She then found something better and left, and then they employed another lady and another who were just not right for the job. That is when they both decided to write down a list of all the things they were looking for and then closed their eyes or something and the mouse landed on my name.

This is when she explains further that I am there for a purpose and when I feel my buttons are being pushed, I must ask myself the question: ‘What is it that I am here to learn?’

Today was breaking point for me ‘I think’ I realised that maybe my lesson here is to try put up with people’s shit and have a gentle approach to those who need healing. But how does someone who is so broken about so many things get to heal others? Especially when I feel that more than just my buttons are being pushed, it’s more like a fuse has been set to go off. It really is a hectic position working for all seven of them, juggling and multi tasking that I don’t even have time to pick my nose.

I feel more like Cinderella being asked to scrub the floors by her nasty step sisters than Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs who were her friends and guides, if you get my drift.

I now have Cell C to thank for my new found friend with whom I get more lap dances at night than most random guys get at Teazers.  Yes my cell phone contract was upgraded and the special deal was a free laptop from a corporate sales executive which is just a glorified name for a sales person.

Now the better half and I both have sleepless nights glued to our LCD’s never mind the television which is also in the bedroom.  It is great to have a hobby and to be updated on the outside world, however how healthy is it for the relationship I sometimes wonder?

I guess everything should be done in moderation, so as long as we keep it to a bare minimum and rather get our bodies as bare as possible. The only hour long lap dances will be the ones I  perform for the hubby.

What we project out into the universe, always comes back. Why is it that when people feel down, depressed they enjoy speaking to people whose life is far off worse than theirs.

I think it’s because they are under the impression it makes them feel a lot better to know they not suffering as much as the next.

Sometimes I read the news with all the morbid things that are happening in this world, the crime in South Africa. It certainly does not make me feel any better, it makes me sad and depresses me even more!

To cut a long story short, there is this blog worsethanyou.blogspot.com dedicated to those sort of people. The ones that try and make themselves feel better after reading about others’ distressing pathetic lives. I was reading this, out of curiosity and came across another article about some “suicide matchmaker” website, where the websites including suicide circle claim to be the place for depressed people to get together and communicate, but often result in group suicide pacts. Need I say more.

If you truly want to lift your spirits, rather surround yourself with light, love and positive people. Not those who are going to bring you down even more.

I cannot begin to explain how well fucked off I am of late and no it’s not premenstrual, maybe bipolar behaviour who knows. I have pondered the fact of perhaps diagnosing myself with being bipolar, seeing my moods are ever so erratic and from one extreme to the next, it’s crazy.

But what conclusion I would rather entertain is that the whole planet has the pendulum swing of delusional moods and emotions; and it just seems to be rubbing off on everyone else. People are beginning to irritate me to beyond and beyond.

Decided to have my hair done last week Thursday just down the road from where I work. I had only been there once before and the job of having my hair blow dried seemed good enough to endure another visit. Having arrived there, I decided I would give myself the treat of also having a trim this time around.

The same hairdresser seated me in the chair and started chopping, however she just seemed so uncomfortable, the impression I got was that she did not cut hair that often. Ignoring my hunches, I let her continue the job. Once she had finished blow drying my hair, I noticed it didn’t look as good as the last time I came around. Needless to say, I paid the money and left, R270! for a trim and blow dry!! Daylight robbery if you ask me.

Then, this Saturday while blow drying my own hair, I had a Huge Bitch Fit, I noticed that every single strand of my hair was uneven and that my once evened out layers were now choppy and misplaced. I freaked out that my cats scattered out the bedroom as if a bomb had dropped. Now that called for a “Catastrophe” (no pun intended). Grabbed my cell and phoned the salon:

Me: Hi, I would like to speak to the owner/manager of the salon please

*Dopey: Yes, may I ask what this is in connection with?

Me: Certainly, I came through two days ago for a trim by one of your hairdressers and have noticed while blow drying my own hair today that my hair is completely fucked up. She has done a terrible job, that I now have to go somewhere else to get it fixed. I am most upset about this.

*Dopey: Well, what was the name of the hairdresser that you came to see

Me: *Dopey

*Dopey: Oh (long pause) who am I speaking to? Oh well _________ it is *Dopey speaking, I am terribly sorry, would you like to come in and have me fix it for you?

Me: Hell No! you messed my hair up, what makes me think you not going to mess it up even more, no, what I would like is my money back , of which I might add was ridiculously priced, R270! for a trim and blow dry and my hair is not even that long. I want my money back please.

*Dopey: I am so ever terribly sorry, I will get the manager to phone you back.

Me: Thank you.

Ring Ring

I answer cell, manager of salon is talking to me asking me to come round to show the botched up job of one of the hairdressers. I agree I will come round before they close and before my appointment with my original hairdresser down the road from my house.

On arriving there, I now have to wait for the manager as she is still busy with someone. Not impressed. Eventually, she attends to me. Has me seated and I begin to show her the choppy hairstyle and uneven pieces. She agrees and then asks me to take a seat by one of the basins. Okay? Now I’m really confused??? I say no thanks, she then proceeds to tell me that she would like to fix my hair up for me. So I kindly tell her that I have already made an appointment with my original hairdresser and would like to keep it that way.

Manager: So how do you suggest we rectify this matter (sarcastic tone)

Me: By giving me my money back!

Now she goes onto say that it is against ethics and not her policy of allowing me to go to another hairdresser to fix up the mistake

Me: What the fuck! I have every right to make the decision of where I would like to go, especially after having a bad experience at your salon, I do not feel comfortable coming here again.

Manager: it was your choice in coming here in the first place, so it is partly your fault

Me: WtF! are you crazy woman? basically what u are telling me is that I made the mistake of coming here in the first place, so basically what u’re admitting to is that your salon is Crap and a huge mistake, nice one. Look I don’t have time for this shit, either give me my money back or be prepared to get fucking scissor stabbed.

Manager: Fine, I will give you your money back.

Thank you fucking very much BIAAAAATCH!

PS: She also compared My Hair to Food at A Restaurant, saying that when someone does not like their food, they send it back and then get a free meal.

Whatever, I then proceeded to tell her firstly, we are not talking about food, but my HAIR, MY HAIR! and secondly if I don’t like the food at a restaurant I send it back and never return, as we all very well know what they do to your food in the back. Dumbo!

PSS: The hair is sorted now thanks to my Original Hairdresser ( I promise I will never stray again)

Cool Facts About Vodka

1. To remove a bandage painlessly, saturate the bandage with vodka. The solvent dissolves adhesive. (also causes injuries, like cuts and scrapes to knees)

2. To clean the caulking around bathtubs and showers, fill a trigger-spray bottle with vodka, spray the caulking, let set five minutes and wash clean. The alcohol in the vodka kills mold and mildew (not to mention causes body to lean over bath and vomet, when not reaching toilet bowl in time)

3. To clean your eyeglasses, simply wipe the lenses with a soft, clean cloth dampened with vodka. The alcohol in the vodka cleans the glass and kills the germs. (also causes person to forget to take contact lenses out when retiring to bed, only to wake next morning with contact lense stuck to eyeball!)

4. Prolong the life of razors by filling a cup with vodka and letting your safety razor blade soak in the alcohol after shaving. The vodka disinfects the blade and prevents rusting. (causes those little cuts and knicks from not being able to shave properly due to the shakes the morning after)

5.Spray vodka on vomit stains, scrub with a brush, then blot dry. (now this I can relate to)

6. Using a cotton ball, apply vodka to your face as an astringent to cleanse the skin and tighten pores. (that is if have not already been done by accidently getting drink all over face)

7. Pour one-half cup vodka and one-half cup water in a Ziplock freezer bag and freeze for a slushy, refreshable ice pack for aches, pain or black eyes. (Now why didnt I think of that, for the ache in my knee)

8. To cure foot odour, wash your feet in vodka ( and smell like an alchy instead)

And Finally:

NEVER DRINK THE STUFF IT’LL KILL YOU!!

Apologies dear readers, I have seemed to neglect my blog for quite some time now.  I have been so preoccupied with so many things in my life at the moment that I have not really had the inspiration to write anything new until now.

 I once again failed my Drivers and have been battling to arrange for another test date, since the freakin’ call centre has so many technical problems and other people of sunny South Africa ailments going on.  I honestly feel as it is my last and only resort to go down the illegal way of getting it.

Currently I feel so stuck in my life and they normally say you can personify a person’s life by the vehicle which carries them through.  Well I don’t drive at all and I am beginning to wonder if that is why I feel so stagnated in all areas of my life.  That chariot is no-where to be seen.

Apart from the dormancy of my existence, my vodka binge drinking over the long weekend was the only thing that seemed to be flowing and keeping me happy for the time being.  Had another one of our famous house partys on Friday 16th Youth Day.  It was a blast, the usual crew with all the brew.  Had a mother of a hangover the next day, was Absolute Vodkly paralysed, but nevertheless still managed to crawl out of bed to attend yet another friend’s braai that evening.  Yet again, it ended debaucherously with me waking up with one hell of a bruise and scraped left knee.  I had apparently while leaving the party, tripped over the cobblestones and fell flat on my face!  My other half said I did not even notice a thing, my jeans were fashionably torn, along with fragments of my memory.

Back to the grind and the whole cycle begins again.  The wheel is turning, but the hamster is fucked.  Anywho back to the zoo.

I have been summoned to do a presentation for Coke.  Hmmm I wonder what size mirrors will be used, long or short straws.  Okay, on a more serious schnarf, erm I mean note; I have less than a week to prepare and to date this is my first.  I am a wee bit on the edgy side of things.

 I am all for public speaking do not get me wrong; especially after a few rounds of tequilas and straight vodka shots.  Friends call me the ’social-butterfly of the group, but to stand up in front of a bunch of Corporates and talk about something I have fairly a clue about is a different pickle of fish altogether.

Why my boss has selected me for this gruelling task eludes me completely.  Perhaps I should start off the Presentation with vodka scones, warm things up a bit and get everyone slightly trashed so they will not know the difference between ‘Hogwash and Hogwash.’

I feel as motivated as Bovril on a piece of dry Wheatbix and believe me I have tried this on a 10 day diet plan I once was on.  Gross.

 Moving along.. I have a far off and distant memory of once being involved in a Public Speaking Contest for my High School and even though I had a brilliant speech prepared, was normally one of the best at giving speeches in my school, I was still as nervous as a sweaty Groom on his Wedding Day. My heart pounded like a thousand drums beating around a Carnivore Ceremonial Supper. Where do I come up with this shite?

Anywho, the point I am attempting to make is how on earth am I going to survive the mental preparation of trying to explain how to work a certain programme, I am not good at teaching, demonstrating things.

What I can easily demonstrate is how to down a shot of tequila with a squeeze of lemon and a lick of salt off the hand.

HELP!

‘Twas the hubby’s birthday on the Friday, so I had decided to surprise him by buying two tickets to see the best Funky, Hip Hop Band in the world ‘Black Eyed Peas’.  Saturday arrived and we headed off to Sin City, just the two of us.

 A good hour and a half later we were standing by the doors amongst a few teenie boppers.  There were all sorts of people, all shapes and sizes.  Once we got inside the superbowl, you could feel the excitement stirring and brimming with people.  I had got us standing tickets, so we could completely be engrossed in the vibe and music.

I was styling, dressed in jeans, a white fake fur jacket and my white ‘fuck-me’ boots.  Now a concert is not a concert without a few condoms floating above your head.  I was slowly starting to lose my sense of humour after standing for over an hour, “why oh why did I wear these boots!”

Then it happened!  The show began, out came the Black Eyed Peas captivating, enthralling and holding us all spellbound.  Fergie has the most powerful voice and there was so much energy, great musicians.  Brilliant.

 We sang, screamed, cheered until I had no vocal chords left, gone, vanished without a trace.  I had lost all feelings in my legs, not that I had noticed.

 It was a fantastic show which we both thoroughly enjoyed and I did not have to drink myself into a coma.

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