The Twilight Saga

I only recently started watching Twilight. I remember a few years ago, not even being able to watch a few minutes without gagging.  To my surprise I actually found the adventures of the taciturn, sparkly vampire and his buddies rather entertaining, to a point. I can’t claim to be the biggest fan out there, or even a fan, but I can definitely sympathise with those who have had to say goodbye to Bella and Edward, and all the other ones, in Twilight – Breaking Dawn Part II. However, I’ve heard, that there are talks about more instalments to come.

The Twilight Saga – Brunch

In this instalment Bella and Edward have brunch. They come down to a lavish spread of delicious baked goods, organic fruit, orange juice and freshly brewed coffee. But, because they’re vampires they don’t eat! Instead, they talk about how much fun it would be if they could eat. Also, Edward’s Dr Dad comes up with a serum which means the Cullen’s no longer have to ingest blood to survive. This means no more hunting and killing, proving that vampires can get more boring.

The Twilight Saga – Nap Time

Here Edward and Bella’s daughter, who is named after the capital of Iceland, is about to take a nap. However, she is only allowed to do so after she admits to killing one of her “friends”. But, wait, it’s okay, because in a vision she saw that this girl was going to be a serial killer one day. Also, there’s a great twist to this instalment, because remember(?) – vampires don’t sleep, or kill or do anything really.

Now the final instalment is a collaborative effort bringing together three worlds of fantasy. It will be called –

Hotel Middle Earth

Gandalf and Frodo open a hotel in Middle Earth after seeing the great tourist potential. Bella and Edward go there for their 100^th year anniversary and run into Harry Potter, whose just there! Nothing really happens, so you can see this film is primarily influenced by the twilight series. Harry, Gandalf and Frodo do get very drunk and do karaoke though.

Reasons why I HATE Valentine's Day?!

This post was going to be about how much of sham Valentine’s Day is. It would’ve gone something like this:

V-Day blah, blah, commercialism. Blah, blah, blah materialistic, nothing to do with love. Bah – ugly lingerie, cheap chocolates and bad poetry!

My argument was to be based on the premise that v-day falls on just another day of the week. Then I thought how different is this to celebrating a birthday, for instance? So, I tried a different tack – why should love be celebrated on one day, designated by someone else?! This one was failing to convince me too. Then I had to admit to myself that I am not averse to anything that could potentially bring people together and make them happy. I’m down with that! In fact, the tacky side of me, the side that loves reality tv, also loves ugly lingerie and bad poetry. Although I always appease hipster me by self-righteously mocking the lacy, red negligee in Edgars, I can’t help but wonder what it would look like if I tried it on. In her song, Fuck & Run, Liz Phair puts it nicely, “I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas.” I’m with Liz on that. Getting flowers, a gift, a card, whatever - is lovely.

I think my problem arose out of the fact that I’ve been particularly moody lately and anything pink, red, pink&red and heart shaped just seemed to stoke the fire of my grumpiness. I could always claim V-Day for myself, you know, like, by doing something alone. Uhmmm ... affirming my singleness i.e. independence and all that stuff. I don’t think so! JC Le Roux can find someone else to hang out with. I do feel it’s just one of them days that you need to celebrate with someone, a real person, not a bottle with that person’s name on it. Having said that I’m not going to start boiling bunnies and stalking Michael Douglas, I simply do not have the time. Also, the thing is, even though I know I am too good for him, I’d gladly allow Ryan Gosling to play his ukulele for me, while I dance – badly, of course! It’s the only way I know how. 

So, that pause was supposed to be dramatic

Ja, I had found my 1st grey hair in the same department store where I had come shopping, as a child, for Christmas clothes, with my mother and sister.I was pretty unaffected. I was actually rather surprised that I hadn't thrown myself on the floor and broken into a hysterical fit of sobs. Usually I relish any opportunity to behave like a sexually frustrated woman from the 19th century, my corset of course being my grey hair.

Rather, I was mildly annoyed by the fact that one of the dresses I'd tried on was out of my price range. Bugger the glamourous yet low paying world of administration. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that in my being-an-adult frenzy I'd gotten a job. For months I'd been living in my own place, supporting myself. High five me, right?! Hmmm yes, I guess, a rather tired, belaboured high five. Although very happy to have the means to feed and cloth myself, I had no idea how tough working would be. Not just the work itself, but the office politics. My desk became a good friend, I often sat under it.

I suffered from an extreme case of naivety, which was promptly allayed by a large dosage of reality. Being the big ball of emotion that I am, the reality of working in a place where you feel that you're only valued for what you do was starting to get me down. As a result I adopted a new look - tired and drained. I was also able to hone and fine tune one of my few talents - complaining. This did not, however, stop me from having insane bouts of optimism. What I like to call I-know-I-can moments on meth! These would often manifest in the form of baked goods. Oh, the disappointment that was to follow.

At this point all I wanted to do, most days, was stay in bed and pretend the world and especially my office world did not exist. Having tasted the fruits of independence though, I was not going to let it go. So, I'd drag my grumpy ass out of bed and this would continue on the train and into my office, throughout the day. I'm sure my colleagues really appreciated it, I have an awesome suur gesig, it makes lemons cringe.

For awhile I simply blamed my sadness on the bureaucracy that is an ever present feature in all organisations. Yes, I was able to avoid taking responsibility for my miserable attitude by blaming the fat man on top; this being both a figurative and literal fatness. Also, bringing me to the question: What is it with me and fat men? Anyway, my disillusionment lay partly in the fact that I felt I wasn't really being seen as anything other than an admin assistant. And, to be quite honest, I really wasn't  too great at what I was doing. Just imagine that the one thing you're valued for is also, probably, the one thing you MOST suck at. Ouch!

In the process I’d forgotten to look at what was good about my job, one of the most important factors being my colleagues. A simple pleasant exchange in the kitchen or chuckle in my office was often what would turn a kak day into a good one. One day a colleague of mine, Carol Gainer and I, were chatting in my office. She told me about this dress she owned, but thought would suit me better; she’d bring it the next day for me, to have! This could’ve been the ugliest dress in the world, because here she was giving something to someone she didn’t know, without wanting anything in return.

Let me tell you it was NOT the ugliest dress in the world. It was/is pretty awesome.  Obviously, I tried it on and paraded around the office, showing off my awesome dress to anyone who would put up with my ridiculousness. I was being ridiculous and it felt good! I remembered one of the reasons I so love dresses – it’s being five years old again and playing dress up. Doing this didn’t make me any less grown up. I still had bills to pay, loads of dirty washing to clean and a less than desirable bank balance. But what this made me see was that being “grown-up”, or at least the way I characterised it, is totally overrated. Because I love polka dots, cupcakes, Christmas beetles, jumping on the bed, falling on my ass and all the other innumerable stupid little things that are just that: stupid, but lovely. Now I have one more thing to add to this list – putting on musical note dress, with red heels :)

 




                                                      

A Dress: A Magical Thing Part II - When Carol Gainer made my Day

When I first conceived of this blog I had imagined that it would be about fashion. My first blog here was to lay the foundation for what my overly ambitious mind thought would be a fun, quirky, but still intelligent, sorry highly intelligent, means of illustrating a different approach to fashion. Mixing the old with the new, vintage with the latest trends, wait(!) this sounds familiar - it is every single fashion blog out there, twelve year olds are doing it! So, basically, what I really wanted was to show everyone how cool I was.

Little did I know that the old in mixing old and new would eventually become me. I no longer needed to trawl the 2nd hand shops of Cape Town in order to find that perfect vintage top, my sexy saggy 27yr old boobs would do. Adding to my discontent was the fact that I had recently come out of a relationship with a fat Namibian and as a consequence of lack of intelligent conversation and satisfying sex I had put on a few kilos. You see my blog was suppossed to be filled with fabulous pictures of me, looking fabulous in ensembles and dresses I had put together. Everyone was to think that it was, well, FABULOUS! Instead of feeling F for FABULOUS, I felt F for FAT. FAT. FAT!

There was no way I was going to parade my dimply ass in front of a camera, pretending I felt confident when I didn't. And, looking back I really wasn't even fat, just disappointed that the highlight of my former relationship was watching my ex eating McDonalds, in the car, while he was driving.

As a result of unforeseen weight gain and loss of confidence I just let my blog go wherever I felt like letting it go. And, for awhile, that was nowhere, because that's where I was going, sitting on my couch, watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit - Du, du, du, du, DUM!

Clothes no longer made me feel what they used to. By this time I had amassed some pretty awesome dresses. I remembered really thinking of my collection as my own little treasure. The sentimental part of me imagined oneday passing it onto my daughter, or son, who I would dress up as a girl anyway.

Of especial value were my 2nd hand dresses. Not only were they cheap, but unique as well. When I would feel sad or down I'd put one on with some heels and prance around my flat. Yes, that's a normal thing to do! However, I had come to a point in my life where this all seemed a bit frivolous and pointless. I had certainly reached one of the epochs of growing up - Being SERIOUS.

So, I began behaving like an adult. I started looking for a job, eating healthy and exercising. I took an interest in such pressing matters as the environment and politics. How could I possibly wear pretty dresses when the rainforests were sad and politicians were being assholes? I even went as far as to clear out the contents of my cupboard. Not only getting rid of things I no longer wanted but certain items I had grown quite attached to.

This entire experience wasn't, however, all bad. For the first time in my adult life(and I use this term loosely) I was beginning to see that I wasn't only to be valued by how I looked and dressed. I'd become so attached and reliant on this idea of who I was, and in the process of continually trying to maintain this I had lost the plot. And, even though all these new ideas were mostly confusing, the most important thing was that I was thinking - like a big person!!!

Fast forward a year or so - I am in the dressing room at Woolworths, trying on dresses, of course! But instead of finding the frock that would epitomise the upcoming Summer of 2013, I find a grey hair. Really, now?!

...

                                                            

You know it's going to be a bad day when...

The sound of birds chirping makes you want to kill

The birds, of course! Because I haven't had a good night's rest and they decide to wake me up at 5 o' clock, in the morning. Afterwhich, it is impossible to fall asleep again. I spend the next hour ruing their existence and even contemplate reading To Kill a Mockingbird, until later I discover this is not a manual on how to kill birds that mock your existence, at 5 o' clock in the morning!!!

You're running late and you can only find one shoe

This is one of the greatest dilemmas of my life - how the fuck do you misplace one shoe? If it was the pair I could understand, but one! You see, as far as my logic goes you take your shoes off at the same time, in the same place. This is a mystery I've yet to solve. And, this invariably happens at the crucial time when I could just get to the train station on time not to be late for work. Things like this make me believe that evil really does exist and that shoes are agents of the devil. As least mine are!


You discover a big stain on the sweater you're wearing

But it's too late to go home now, because it took me 15minutes to find my shoe, in the dirty washing(the pile in the bedroom, not the lounge). So, I try to rearrange my scarf and contort my arms, to hide the offensive curry stain. All the while berating myself for continuing to eat whilst wearing clothes. I know by now that only about 80% of food I eat enters my mouth via cutlery, the rest I usually lick off my clothes or carpet, or whatever surface it manages to fall on. At this point I'm in such an unnatural position that passers-by stare, and I can see they're wondering what's wrong with me. I ask myself that question all the time.


As a result the following will probably occur during the course of the day:

(1) I will shout/scowl at innocent co-workers.
(2) I will cry, because my dirty sweater makes me realise how much I hate my job.
(3) Dissatisfaction with job will lead to emotional eating of KFC hot wings.
(4) I will cry, again, because I ate hot wings and now I am fat.

These days are called Mondays. God said, "Let there be Monday" and there was Monday. Sometimes when God needs a bit of a laugh he makes every day of the week a Monday. This also happens when a person or group of people piss off God . Thanks, atheists!

National Yawn Day

History

National Yawn Day was an initiative begun by a small group of like minded individuals, who believed in the far reaching effects and benefits of yawning. This group quickly grew in number and as a result the Society for the Benumbed Minds of Sullen Employees(SBMSE) was started. It was found that prolonged exposure to excessively bright lights, recycled air and mundane activities results in what is scientically known as the Zombie Effect. This is a medical condition where normally happy individuals turn into depressed homocidal lunatics. The society discovered that yawning was both a simple and efficient means of countering the Zombie Effect.  Studies conducted also revealed that increased yawning resulted in decreased death rates within the workplace. The amount of fatalities as a result of Death by Dorrito - A Russian Roullette style vending machine game, where desperate employees goad each other on by eating inordinate amounts of salty vending machine snacks often resulting in one or more employee dying from exploding, is snaggerringly less in corporations where yawning is encouraged. Since 1985 the SBMSE's mission has been to shed light on these workplace atrocities.

Medical Benefits

Apart from the obvious advantages of supplying oxygen to the body and helping to exercise facial muscles,  yawning has other significant benefits. Employees finding themselves in excessively boring situations, which as we know is the leading cause of death(often by suicide) of braincells, are encouraged to yawn. This is promoted in order to avoid passing out, as a result of boredom. It is often found that those creating the boredom will be so put off by yawning that they will cease talking and walk/storm off. In these situations we say the bigger the yawn the better.

Yawga

A form of yoga promoted in the corporate sector. When in a large group employees are encouraged to yawn in unison. Yawga is most often conducted during staff meetings.

Yawning - The Stigma

Even though the benefits of Yawning has been extensively researched and proven, stigma was still attached to those who chose to openly practice it. This was mainly experienced in the workplace and offenders are often senior management and obliviously boring people. In the late 90s the rise of anti-yawn websites and the degrading portrayal of yawners in the media had escalated to such a point where the SBMSE poured funds into a print campaign. This campaign depicted individuals, from varying backgrounds, caught in the act of yawning with the caption - Yawning : We All Do It printed below. The campaign went hand in hand with information sessions given at schools and community centres. Overall it was considered a success with yawning becoming more openly accepted.

Yawning as art

Since yawning has become much more widely accepted many have taken it on as a form of artistic expression.

Popular modes of expression -

Interpretive Yawn Dance
Painting
Poetry
It is also the subject of the hit Broadway Musical - All About the Yawns.

Outreach

Perhaps the greatest achievement of the campaign has been its Outreach Programmes. Yawning Upliftment Programmes are brought to disadvantaged communities where school children are taught the lasting benefits of yawning. This is especially useful to youngsters stuck in interactions with white liberals, who have unresolved guilt issues. Whereas, in the past, these children would have to sit through onesided discussions expounding the joys of our rainbow nation, a simple yawn is often all it takes to diffuse the situation. Yawning allows a freedom, unknown to these youngsters, from exposure to unwarranted and oppressive social interactions.

I need a break and chocolate

I've been feeling down and drained lately. It really has been a crazy few weeks and I'm quite happy to have gotten out of it, somewhat intact! I think : work + me getting older = a grumpy me :( It was my B-day last week and for some reason turning 27 was really getting to me. "This is really old," I thought, " I'm SO on the WRONG side of 25." But the day came around and to be honest, and with a little smile on my face, I can say it was wonderful. Everyone was so sweet and kind. My desk was filled with all sorts of lovely things that various people had gotten me. Typing this now I feel really silly for not taking a photo!!! Anyway, I don't think I'm the type of person who actually cares what I get, just the very fact that I'm getting something is huge for me.  I get excited and giggly just looking at a wrapped gift, but, luckily, this year, everything I got was something I loved.  However, because I'm as excitable as a puppy, eveything became somewhat overwhelming, in a good way. I suppose that much attention can get to one. Now this, no doubt, added to the exhaustion I'd been feeling for awhile and this week has been lovely because I'm starting to settle a bit. There's just been so much happening around me lately and I'd become so concerned with all of it that I decided I just needed to spend time alone, in my pjs, watching QI and eating!

If this is not the remedy for a worn out soul then I don't know what is. I have a plan of action, which includes making yummy food and eating it, with no sense of decorum or shame! I'm excited because one of the gifts I received was a pestle and mortor, something I've wanted for ages, and I'm planning to try out some recipes. This post is really just a heads up as I'm going to record my food exploits/disappointments(hopefully there won't be many) and put it up here. However, because I'm very good at making plans, but not so much at keeping to them it'll be interesting to see what comes of this weekend :)

See you Monday!