untill next time!

Today is the last day I will work for the year 2009.

It is also the last day I will work in the department I’m in because I’ve got a bit of a promotion and commence when I’m back in January.

I won’t be gone for too long. Just until the 4th of January – but I’m looking forward to getting away from the city for a few days.
Peace and quiet.
Game reserves, trips out on the boat.
Breakfast on the beach.
Lunch on the beach.
Dinner on the beach – heck, even sex on the beach.

Private, secluded – time out of time.

I can not wait. I’m already wishing the hours away because that’s all I need to wish away.

Be good, be merry. Be safe! Enjoy the holidays… Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Catch you all in 2010.

And to my love… happy anniversary babe :)

~Wozzel~

Oh my godsiens! I made the most wonderful discovery today. I’m so excited I want to pee in my pant.

I had to share this with you.

The local Spar (by that I mean the Spar down the road from where I work) is selling wine in a can!

A can!

A frikking can!

And it’s so pretty.

It’s pretty and it’s blue and it looks like a chickified energy drink.

So I bought the “4” pack, at R60.00 – because I had to.

So I’m a little bit tipsy at my desk pretending I’m drinking an energy drink.

Sublime.

I have a new best friend and her name is “Eve Brut” and she contains 12% alcohol.

I love Eve.

promise we'll speak at least once a week k?

The first thing I did when I got home last night was pour myself a glass of wine. I love my wine. And my wine glasses. They are beautiful. They are special. Not many people are allowed to touch them.

They are of bucket proportions and I love them dearly.

I was loving my wine glass when the cell phone rang. It was mumsy.

Mother -: sweetie? (I hate that)
Me -: Scharlotte? (she hates that)
Mother -: don’t be so rude. What ever happened to mum? Really now, I am your mother!
Me -: yes. I know. You are. Isn’t it bliss?
Mother -: are you drunk? You are being very rude. You have bad hair.

Now this is a biggie for me dear friends. A biggie. See, I know I have odd hair. It’s falling out, greying and growing in places I would rather it not. So for mumsy to say that just hurts. She know’s what buttons to push.

We spoke for about an hour. We laughed and we cried and made jokes about things. It was a good chat. The reason for this long, good chat was that my mum was calling to let me know she was on her way to her new home. She is moving away from Durban to some little town in the bundu’s a good few hours away from Durban. And I’m quite sad.

No more Saturday morning breakfasts at Beach café.
No more random brunches when she pops past work during the day.
Gone are Wednesday afternoon Merlot sessions at Cubana.

I’m really quite bleak. We have a very special relationship that old bat and I and we are very close. We spend loads of time together in gossip, discussion, debate – with wine.

She is so excited though. Like a little girl who just received the new Malibu Barbie :) so I’m quite pleased for her. And, I guess this just all means I have a new coastal holiday destination.

wine, a public holiday, visitors and that bloody bird!

The problem with having a public holiday in the middle of the week is that it kind of means you have two Mondays. I did say kind of means. It’s all the same really. As it stands, I do not have a very good relationship with Mondays. I find them mean, evil spirited creatures who have little or no regard for anything or anyone and Mondays just keeps messing with my hair.

What I do like about a public holiday in the middle of the week though is that I don’t have to go to work and I can lie around by the pool all day drinking beer and smoking a joint with my mates (it was very windy in Durban yesterday – that’s why I was by the pool and not on the beach).

Only, I’m a bit tired now because I’ve been busy since Tuesday evening when it all started with a bottle (read two) of wine.

Downfall. Moving on.

My room mate has friends over. They hail from Pretoria. Yes, I do feel sorry for them. Nice kids though. Strange thing, I can hardly follow any conversation with them. And it’s not only me! Boyfriend agrees to the same. I don’t quite get it though. I’m only 4 years older than them (room mate and her friends) making boyfriend only 6 years older than them, yet I find I really don’t quite “get” them.

Conversations ranged from talks of partying all night and taking pills to drinking all day and going to the mall. And they seem to speak a completely different language from anyone I’ve ever met.

The mall?

What is so special about a mall?

Firstly, lets just get this out of the way, I’ve had my hooligan days. Oh believe me I did. I hooliganned well I might add. I danced on all the dance floors at Truth and tramped it up at Bitch when I lived in Jozi. I put strange little pills and other things in my mouth and thought I was too cool. I shook all I have at Bronx, and was subsequently shaken right back by some cute European sounding boy and danced with fairies on the mountains while holidaying (for three months, oh I miss it) in Cape Town. And now? Its over. It’s done. I stay home and I bake cake and make yummy dinners and I smile because I’m happy and not because the medication makes me do it and I go home to the man I love and we talk about things like buying a house and whether or not we should get a dog.

So it’s strange to see these younger beings who have made home on an inflatable mattress on the floor of my living room for the next few days while they are here on holiday talking about all night parties and giving us strange looks when we say we are not joining them at the 330 party at Traxx on Friday night.

Don’t let me forget that other part. The part about the mall. Ok, so Durban has a one / two pretty cool malls, but when you are in Durban, why the heckles do you want to spend your time in a mall? This is Durban dammit, South Africa’s playground. Why not hit the beach? go run and slip and slide in uShaka Marine World? Go for a picnic at the Botanical Gardens, explore the Japanese Gardens – get lots in the Valley of a Thousand Hills?

That’s all I’m saying. Coz that’s how I roll.

As for that parrot. That parrot! I don’t know how much more I can actually take. Thankfully it is leaving. Room mate is giving the bloody thing back to her ex-boyfriend / boyfriend / ex-boyfriend currently known as new boyfriend / we actually don’t even know anymore. So on the 24th December 2009 – room mate, her parrot and her two friends from Pretoria are driving back up together and the parrot is not coming back.

Hallelujia!

Rude ass bird! Tuesday night she was hanging upside down in the cage screaming and squarking like a deranged possessed child so I shouted “shut up you spawn of satan” it looked at me and said “bitch please!”

such an arse

Last night I was such an arse! Really.
One day I will figure out how to use the washing machine.. sigh.

If it’s not flooding the entire apartment (which I have now done 3 times in the last month) It’s striking and not working.
Then there was the time I had done a large load, and when the machine sang his little song, announcing his job done, I went to unpack the machine, only to find that I had not put the clothes in (someone pass me my “you are an arse” sign)

I had 2 loads of laundry to do last night and started as soon as I got home. The first load went smoothly and I took all the clothes out, threw them in the tub and started the second. I was then distracted. A friend came over with a music DVD that I had to see. Anyway – the familiar “I’m done washing your clothes” jingle started and off I went to empty the machine so I could start getting the clothes into the drier…

See – I had put the clothes into the bath while I was watching the music videos, and forgotten that the water outlet runs into the bath. Resulting in dirty wash water gushing all over the freshly washed clothes… resulting in me doing a 3rd unnecessary load. Now I’m personally responsible for water wastage. Sigh. (Where is my “you are an arse” sign?)

Moving right along…

– I have officially received the “your internet usage is too high” lecture at work. Oops. I need to spend more time on work and not on line. I knew it would come to this.

I’m smiling today… my medication makes me do it.

Houston, we have lift off

I’ve been sick for the last 3 days and I expect sympathy.
I had the shits see.
Like really.

I was doing something rather turbo (and impressive in a “Jackass” movie kinda way) at one stage and almost levitated right into space. B.O.N.U.S! I’m better now, but that does not mean you can not stop and say something supportive like “glad your rash has healed” or “hope it is not still raw”

I get back to work today and I’ve been in and out of meetings non-stop. I’m rather tired now so I think I will go home in a minute. I’ve got a year end function to get ready for.

Oh, about the meetings. Well, first I was asked to MC at out function tonight. Which I don’t mind doing. It will be the 3rd year I’ve done it. What I do mind though is the fact that they asked me today – leaving me only 9 hours to prepare anything and get familiar with all our “special” (sic) guests. The other meeting was about my change of job description as of January 2010. Yeah, well, I’m getting a nicer sounding title and some extra moola (and loads more work) and I think I’m looking forward to it.

Boring post uh?

Oh shuttup I don’t care.

today

This was a morning of stillness and quiet.
A fresh day, waking up.
And there, dancing –
Little twirls of soft breath –
To the rhythm of my heart beating.

Gold, the colour of the sun rising,
And my arms: bathed in the reflection…
As I sit and watch the birth of a new day.

This is a new day. A new beginning, a new road.



And if life is a highway -
I’m driving a Porsche!


© wozzel 2009

sangria

Sangria. yip. Sangria.

It’s why I look the way I do today.

Sangria.

It all started innocently enough on Saturday morning after spring cleaning the house and fighting with the parrot, who I am still convinced, is Satan’s spawn. We were invited to a birthday party. Up in the mountains. That means in Hillcrest if you are a Durbanite. We call them strange folk from up there the mountain people. Beautiful area. Absolutely stunning, lushness like you have never seen before. But I digress.

So off we went, 12:30pm up the hill.

Someone made Sangria.

It was lovely Sangria.

I poured a glass for myself and one for boyfriend. He took a sip and looked at me and said “you just be careful, you know you are a half pint” I said do not fret my pet, I have this under control.

The next minute it was 11:00pm and I woke up in bed and boyfriend was watching a DVD in the lounge and the parrot was saying “bitch please – bitch please”.

those mountain people know how to make Sangira!

geckos. eek!

The thing that freaks me out the most about geckos is their rubbery tails, and their often translucent skin. And also how they have sticky little spongy feet. And they love to hang upside down from ceilings.

They gross me out.

Of course, they always fall on you. When you’re in the tub or in the kitchen opening up another bottle of wine - or while you are reading in bed - because this is obviously their primary function on earth.

To traumatise people.

I’ve heard it all. How they catch the moths and flies and roaches killing them off (which is all good in my books, eat them buggers)

But this does not give them the right to fall on me.

I shall be seeking legal advice in this regard.

The only geckos I like are those pretty ones they make from colourful beads which you can then stick on the wall or garden to pretty things up.

I’m clearly not having a gecko friendly day, but I am still smiling because I think that the bloody gecko hanging out in the bathroom got more of a fright than I did when I got out the shower and first noticed it chilling on the windowsill. His little gecko (sic) eyes almost popped out his little gecko (sic) head.

Bwahahaha!!! Screw you gecko!!!

queen of the world

I’ve been skipping (merrily) along the path known as memory lane today. Going through photographs and such. I came across this beautiful family picture. You can tell it was a long time ago. This is my grandmother's mother.


So classy and elegant. All those layers of lace and see the gloves? Such a regal expression on her face that you would be forgiven for wanting to ask if she had thrillingly improbable ancestry. She looked like the queen of the world that day.

I bet she felt that way too.

google hurt my feelings

It makes me very sad when I can’t sign into google.
We have a thing. Google and I.
A long standing relationship of sorts.

And gmail decides to crash (or as they like to say “experience technical difficulties”).

Last night, it decides to be an arse. Or I was having problems with our home internet connection but I’m blaming google.

At work, I've not been able to sign in all day untill just a little while ago.

Fuckyou google! There. I said it. Coz that’s how I roll!

I needed to vent. I’m better now.

Sorry google. I still love you.

And now, here is a list of new things. I’ve decided to call it “Wozzel’s list of new things.” It’s not a very long list. Yet. But I will keep looking for new things to add to it. I’m going to be like, the “Oprah” of blogs. And every now and again I will update you all.

Wozzel’s list of new things

My new word is uBani. You have to say it really loud and insert as squeaky a voice as humanely possible. Like that chick from the Polka advert. You remember right? You say it like this -

“uBaaaaaani?” and you can use it where ever and whenever you want really. It’s a lot of fun. I can’t get it too high though. And anyway, people might think I was gay if I did… oh, wait a minute…

My new fun way with words is to play with syllables. These are fun to add at any time. I learnt this from my nephew today while chatting to him on the phone this afternoon. At almost 3 years old, he is the only person who is able to call me “Un-ca-el Woz-a-el”

I think it’s some kind of Cantonese baby slang. I’m reading into it. While I do my research, you might find it great fun to randomly add syllables to words. Make it up as you go.

My new yummy (but not very healthy) snack. Stir-fried popcorn.

Wozzel?!?!?! What the hell is stir-fried popcorn?

I’ll tell you. No wait. I’ll teach you how to make it.

In a wok (coz wok’s rock) and add just a teeny bit of butter, a teaspoon brown sugar, 2 teaspoons honey. Melt it. Watch it go sticky and goldenly brown… mmmm…Take a cup of popped corn, and throw into said wok and sugary-honey mixture, stir-fry very quickly. Let it cool down. It turns nice and crunchy-hard. VOILA!!! Stir-fried popcorn. Who woulda thunk it? (No, this was not a “munchies” concoction. I was just feeling a tad adventurous last night.)

And that’s it.

Have an awesome day and smile dammit!

The end.

how the cockroach died

Last night I was attacked by a vicious cockroach. The boyfriend and I had just returned from playing tennis, and were getting ready to eat KFC (we figure that if we exercise, then eat junk food, it can’t be all that bad) and watch a DVD when through the door, into my face (I was in the passage) this motherfucker (sorry) (actually I’m not really) charges in!

I ask you, with tears in my eyes. WHY? Why me?

boyfriend, moving as swiftly as a Gazelle in the veld (and screaming like a hyena) jumps up, grabs a “Runners Guide” and proceeds to smack me in the face. There I am writhing in pain, with a fat red welt on my face. So I grabbed the magazine and smacked him back! Now he is convinced that he will die of a brain tumour or aneurysm caused by me smacking him upside the head.

The roach scurried away and we decided it would be better to rather go visit a friend (lest the roach call his buddies). Off to friends place and I’m still a bit traumatised so we opened the bourbon. One comedy later and some random freestyle dancing, my cell phone rings. It’s roommate and she is on her way home wanting to know if we are there and she is bringing wine. Yay! So off we go and as we get home, there’s the wine. I mean, there she is.

We get inside and we are in the house, there, in the lounge, sitting on my moose (another story that’s too complicated to explain if you’re a first time reader) is the cockroach the size of a 3 year old human child. It jumps. I scream. Boyfriend backs out the front door; roommate walks over and squashes the roach under her sexy black shoes.

Grabs the monster by a twitching leg and flushes it down the loo.

And that is how the cockroach died.

twenty ten

With all the hype surrounding the 2010 soccer, there has come with it all the new development in Durban (yes, I know, we are not immune, everywhere is being prettied up). Roads being widened, the beachfront is currently having a facelift, liposuction and tummy tuck and as lovely as it all looks, quite frankly, it is ruining my life (stunning stadium though).

It used to take me 15 minutes to get to work.
It now takes me 30.

Once upon a time it took between 15 – 20 minutes to get home from work, now it takes 45 minutes to an hour.

Yes. Ok. I hear you Gautengers snickering there thinking I don’t know anything about having to do long distance driving to work.

But I don’t care.
You lot are used to the travelling.
I’m not.

The beach. Oh how I do love thee beach. Only now it’s a nightmare going down because it’s all dug up. Roads are closed off and its just chaos.

I know. It will eventually be finished.

But then? What about next year? At times when the spot light is on Durban. I don’t even want to think about what traffic is going to be like. How busy everywhere will be.

I’m positive about the world cup though. It’s all nice and wonderful for us and blah blah blah.

I think I might go find a hut in the sticks and just hibernate for a few months.

co-(habi)ta-ting

I think our room mate has it easy.

Single – and ready to mingle, 25 and she is beautiful.

Plus she lives with a gay couple who ferret around cooking and cleaning and keeping things at home under control.

Sometimes it just feels like she takes advantage though. And I’m not sure what to say about it. If I should even say anything.

I know I should because it is starting to bother me a bit. Sometimes, I don’t think she pulls her weight.

It’s a toughie for me because we had been room mates first before my boyfriend had moved in, and we have been friends for a long time. And I’m not a conflict person; I don’t want to have to say “look, we need to talk, please, wash dishes now and again, sweep out once in a while – maybe cook – fry an egg? Hey, I will give you 10/10 for effort”

Coz I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings coz that’s how I roll.

I do know that eventually I am going to have enough of it and explode and that will be even worse and my boyfriend will say “see, I told you so”

So I guess I should grow some balls and just have that chat with her. Maybe over a glass (read: bottle) of cheap wine.

But not tonight, I have a function to attend.

The sound of mu(sic)?

IMPORTANT NOTICE - just to fill you in, I did NOT write this. I read it on www.news24.com under the "Opinions" section.

I thought it was brilliant.

The sound of mu(sic)?

by "The Third Wors"
2009-11-26 07:28

Raindrops on clean cars and state fund abuses,
Court cases made up of lies and the useless,
Rogue cabinet ministers on spending sprees,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Cream coloured right wings and comrades from left field,
Big crooks and bad guys protected by blue shields,
Arms deal and cronies who skim from the top’
When in the world will this madness stop?

When the SARS bites
And the BEE stings
When I'm feeling had,
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don't feel...so bad.

Another state bailout for SA's broadcaster
SASCOC takes over for those who run faster,
"They tried to kill me" spins Robert McBriBe,
When will our courts leave them no place to hide?

Where are the speed-cops when traffic goes sour?
Why can't our Eskom plan smartly for power?
What is this nonsense about state-owned mines?
In all of this mess they’re the ones who bring shine...

When a cop asks,
For a big bribe,
And you're feeling mad.
Just simply remember it's nearly December
And then you'll won' feeeeel....so bad!

nothing to say?

hobbies

Hobbies are good.
Coz, they like keep you busy.
This is one of mine. I have a few.

Tonight is Fire In The Park. Just random people from all different walks of life. Cultures, beliefs, ideas and views - who have a common view. Something they all enjoy doing. Spinning fire.

I'm not really good though I will admit. I have been spinning for about 2 years, maybe more, but I've been slack. Cant wait to get out there tonight though. Gonna be hotttt!

This is a pic of a friend of mine and I spinning.

it is a crying shame

Don’t laugh at me, but I must tell you why I cried at uShaka Marine world on Sunday.

It was the dolphins.

The dolphins ok, there, I said it. The dolphins.

They made me cry because they are so beautiful and so clever and we humans are just kak and we don’t really care do we?

Most of us anyway.

The dolphins got me to thinking about this (I’m emo, leave me) so I had to hide my face behind over sized glasses and pulled my cap half way down my face.

We throw rubbish into the ocean. We pump gallons of shit, literally, into rivers and dams and other watery type places. We throw cigarette butts out our car windows and crisp packets and chocolate wrappers out on the road because we are disgusting dirty animals.

Who just don’t care.

And so I cried for the dolphins. And the whales and the seals and the birds and the butterflies and yes, I even cried for the cockroaches because they are creatures too and the fact that I’m shit terrifed of them is not their fault.

They can’t help being ugly.

But we can help by not throwing rubbish onto the earth!!!!

hey, I dunno. I just find it so hard to understand humans.

Slides were fun though, food was expensive (I refuse to pay R40 for two hotdogs, puh-leeez, I can eat 5 hot dogs in one sitting and R25 for two bottles of water? You must be kidding!) and I got a nice even tan.

i just think this is so funny

watching clouds dance

The clouds danced for me last night.
I turned off all the lights, I turned off the TV.

I lay on the floor – on my back, watching them.
Only these did not change shape.

They did not turn into elephants crossing the Serengeti.
No whales swimming in the ocean.
I did not see them change into puppies, or ice-cream cones.

They came to life –
Vivid bright life as lightning waltzed and jived and tangoed -

They did the flamango! The lightning and the clouds.

I never knew the two danced so well together.
Such extremes – so do opposites attract?

It was like I was in a marine world,
Watching safely from behind the glass.
A curios child, scared to get too close,
And oh so eager to be right up front,
Right inside…

I also want to dance in the clouds.

rock - paper - scissors

the lunch man

I am pleased to announce that I am not the only one.

I am not the only one who crumbles at the sight (and sound) of the lunch man.

“who is the lunch man” I hear you ask.

Well, the lunch man is some random dude who started delivering fresh rolls with all yummy goodies on like – roast beef and mustard, chicken and mayo. You name it – he makes it, fresh, tasty and cheap.

The rolls. Not the lunch man.

The lunch man is Italian, and very nice to look at.

I get quite excited when the e-mail is sent announcing he has arrived. This is even though I usually bring lunch to work anyway. I just can not help myself.

I suggested to one of the lady colleagues here that she should go have a peek this morning. So she did. She came back into the office with a tuna and mayo roll. She looks at me and says “I don’t even like tuna, but he said, I have lovely tuna rolls, in that sexy Italian accent and I bought one. I bought one!”


hehe.

long live the lunch man!

If you wish upon a star

Last night I was chilling at home after a very long day.
We had just returned home from a quick dinner out on the town and I was finnished. Done.
Over.

So I was just on the couch, staring out the window at the evening sky.
Enjoying the silence – not enjoying the cold.

I noticed a lone star!
– and so I made a wish.

Only, then the star started moving and I realised it was just a plane.

So I made another wish.

On an aeroplane.

I can’t tell you what I wished for though else it might not come true.

But I want to know, have you ever wished on an aeroplane?

of year end functions.

It is that time of the year again.

The year end function *cue incredibly eerie music, if not for anything else other than dramatic effect*

Last year was a complete write off. Firstly, I wore green. Like bright illumo type green. Don’t ask. It just happened. It was a mistake. A pricey one. Secondly, I got completely wasted on tequila shots and proceeded to hit on and flirt with the cute intern (who is now employed here full time). In my horribly inebriated state I even insisted he drive me home and then told him he should come upstairs for a “cup of coffee”

I mean, a cup of coffee? Do people really say that?

I did.

Not to mention that I also MC’d the event (I do quite a bit of MC’ing) and was the talk of the town. I have not been allowed to forget this the entire year. I just hope someone else throws name this year so the heat can be transferred to someone
else.

Someone more deserving of the attention.

The theme: wait, you gotta here this, but first guess?





African! AFRICAN! Have you ever? How very original.

vok se die bok.

Has the “African” theme not been done enough? Really really? Could they not have
come up with anything?

So I’m left with a bit of a predicament.
I do not know what to wear!
How the hell do boyfriend and I add a “touch of African” to our outfits?

I don’t know.
I give up.
Maybe I will just hit the tequila again.

sometimes... most times.

10 things we learned about dinosaurs from Jurassic Park

1. they’re easy to clone - even by people who cant make car door locks work.
2. they only eat bad people.
3. they move slower than American kids.
4. they grow incredibly quickly.
5. they can open kitchen doors.
6. they blend into their surroundings so well that people don’t
notice them until they’re practically right on top of them.
7. they sneeze. Just like human beings.
8. they can live on an island off the coast of Costa Rica without being spotted
by planes, helicopters or satellite camera and without dinosaur experts being aware of their existence.
9. some of them can be stroked.
10.their ultimate role in the great scheme of things is to persuade cynical
scientists that maybe kids aren’t so bad after all.

the first chapter

Whispers,
Drifting – floating,
The news is shared,
With guilt, anger, disgust.
We enter a new era.
We can not trust –
We can not believe –
We can not speak.

A place, where we,
Are afraid to cry,
Happy to die –
Welcome any alternative.

Numbness and pain,
Share in each others pain.
Life and hope,
Share in each others grief.

Death will be your confirmation –
Freedom will be your transformation –
And life will be your truth.

Stagnant stand dreams
Forgotten to the world.
Lost to faith –
Lost in faith –
Lost with faith –
What is faith?

Zoning in on lies,
True lies,
Here I lie,
Unbeknown to you –
The world.
Who does not care.
Who should not care.
Why do I care?

And as it was written –
“let there be light”
So shall there be darkness
And as it was said –
“let there be life”
So shall there be death.

For the secret to life –
Is no longer a secret,
No longer a whisper,
Drifting – floating.

© wozzel

i need a hug

I need a hug.

I’m sad.

There was a job you see. One I wanted, like real bad.

So I went for an interview and I brushed my hair all nicely and even shaved for the occasion (I don’t shave. I hate it) (ok I do shave, but because I have to, like once a week). I was wearing a shirt that brings out my eyes (lol) and even had a nice cologne on (maybe it reminded her of an ex?) and I was all well prepared and knew all the right things to say, even threw in a few fancy words.

Only, I never got the job.

sigheth.

Moving on – I have had a lot of other work pouring in so I’m still writing and that’s all that matters right?

ooh, remind me to tell you about the wedding we went to over the weekend. Sjoe, that was an experience…

guess what? i'm gay!

I went through a “straight” phase.

I don’t know why.
Not like being gay was seen as a disease in my family.

Oh, I have an older sister who is a lesbiterian and an older brother who is gay. And, yes, there is an “and” a younger brother who is a pastor.

Makes for real interesting family reunions.

Anyway – back to me thinking/pretending I was straight.

An ex-girlfriend (please note this was still in high school, I came out my first year) found me on facebook and sent a friend request which I politely accepted. She obviously noticed my “relationship status” and immediately sent me a message.

“O.M.G – you are gay!”

So I replied “yeah, I kinda know that”

And she was like –

“omg”

And I was like –

“you know its all your fault right?”

And she was like –

“no fucking way”

And I was like –

“no. Get a life; it’s not all about you”

And she was like –

“hahahahahaha”

And I was all like,

“hahahahaha”

Random. I know.

I thought it was funny.

lol!!!

oh Nandos - i love thee!

work schmork

I don’t really like to blog about work, but I cant help it today..

Because it's unintentional corporate hilariousness.

As it is, all I can offer is this:

There was a meeting, which came right after our other meeting about the next meeting and he/she/transgender totally said XXX and that was just downright hypocritical cause last week he/she/transgender said YYY and I don't know why he/she/transgender would say that other than he/she/transgender is borderline retarded.

And you'd think the threat of looming layoffs would make the other he/she/transgender work a bit harder, but NOOOOO and then there was a total clusterfuck and that reversed all the projects until it turned out the clusterfuck was just sort of a minor clusterfuck, so we resumed.

And then we had a meeting about it. Totally hilarious. awww, man. I totally saw THAT one coming.

I should punch that person in the face.

Or throw snot on him.

Yes.

That’s what I will do.

My article is going to print untouched. Ok, slightly edited, but like one line and that was just the grammar that needed to be put in place. I’m so happy I’m dancing little Britney dances all over the place. woot woot! Tonight I shall celebrate.

Bring home the bacon baby!

are we home yet?

I think tonight is a good night to get well trollied.

I’m thinking wine.
Beer, whisky, vodka – a lekker joint.
hell,
if it’s from a grape, potato, hop or barley give it to me.

This has been a long boring day filled with mundaneness
second to none, and trite characters who I shall just say
“don’t know what they are talking about”

and I’ll try again tomorrow.

The end.

first draft in

I have just handed in the first draft of my first ever article for publication in a magazine.

To be honest, I’m crapping myself. I’m nervous.

Why?

Is it that I do not have faith in my abilities?
My talent?

Quite the opposite actually.

I’m quite comfortable with the written word. I love the written word. That article is my baby and I’ve just given birth to it and I just don’t want anyone to say “oh my, what an ugly baby”

Who says that anyway? We always say “what a cute baby” even if its not cute, but I don’t want that either.

I don’t know what I want right now.

I kind of just want it to be over and for them to say “Bravo – bravo” and I can get back to my normal work because right now I’m breaking out in hives!

500 words. One day to go.

I write this blog for many reasons. To mention but a few - entertain myself and the readers I have. To diarise the life of a Wozzel (me, in case.. you know, coz sometimes one must draw a picture) To silence myself, to keep a promise or two, and lastly, narcissism.

The main reason I write this blog is because, well, I like to write.

I did not study the art of writing, maybe in a parallel universe, sticking your index finger in my right eye, tilting my head slightly off to the left and squinting, I would have liked to be a journalist.

But I’m not.

I’ve been lucky yes. I’ve written poetry that found its way into published books. I’ve written a few articles I randomly put together to vent frustration that have been published.

Most recently I wrote something that was published on a business news website. The company I work for came across it and actually commended me on it. I kinda got a standing ovation which blew me away.

I was pleased.

This morning I was approached by our big honchos and marketing department and asked if I would write a press release / article for a leading financial magazine highlighting our company’s latest changes, business partners joining and our product enhancements.

This morning. With a dead line – Thursday, 500 words.

I’ve never had a dead line in my life. Well, not like this.

I’m excited. C’mon, it’s a nice challenge and really cool to be asked to do this. “They like me, the really – really like me” I wanted to sing and shout. Only, I need to remain modest. lol.

Only now I’m as nervous as hell. I’ve got a day and a half to get this done.

dum dum dum…

so do excuse me if I’m quiet for a bit?

rain

The rain stopped.
– There was silence.
Only a soft wind blew.
Over charred earth, drying out,
A shallow grave.

Ash – lifted – floating – delicately;
Carried in the arms of a warm breeze.
Almost as if dancing on a stage.
An imaginary one.

Then handed over.

Tenderly scattered over a field –
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

A muted silver sky hung ominously.

The storm was imminent.
It would not ask permission.
It would ask no favour.

The darkness arrived,
The storm would come
– And it would go away.
only when it was done.

It would not go unnoticed.
Just another day…
Tomorrow can’t ever be the same.

fire

Fire walked in – looked him in the eyes.

He said “You can trust me – it’s you I see. You’re all I see”
The fire had said.

But he turned away,
Then felt as he was drawn back,
An impassioned, fiery hand on his shoulder.

“No” he said. “You can’t see me, can’t touch me, I’m in a place –
A place where you can’t reach me, I’m in a place called me”

Fire moved in closer, ran his tongue up his neck, brushed against his lips.
Traced each contour, and whispered in his ear;
“Tonight we will be free; close your eyes – this wont hurt a bit, put your trust in me”

He closed his eyes.

There he swam in a sea of white fire – incandescent – blue and green, throwing a scene; floating on billowing smoke as it rose, and fell. It rose and, he fell.

Submerged – he gave more than he knew he would.
Fire taking more than he knew he could.
More than he should.

He breathed it in. He breathed nothing out.

It was done. And it was over.

Smouldering, all that was left: Ashes of a fire that had been.
Lying there too was he that had once been.
Nothing left to prove that which had just been.

And then…
~
…it started to rain.

big ego?

You know that Beyoncé song?

Big Ego?

Ja.

It is quite naughty eh? Eish…

But yussy I love it!

“I walk like this coz I can back it up"

haha

jaaa.

mind your language!

Something I find amusing, maybe I shouldn’t, is language barrier.
Look, don’t get me wrong here; this is not a poke at different races at all. Just how easy it is / can be to misinterpret something when the dots don’t connect.

This morning I popped into the Engen / Woolies to buy a chicken burger for breakfast. Don’t judge, I’m a growing boy and burgers make for a good start to the day.

Anyway, the owner of the petrol station was speaking to his staff about someone who had come to fill their tank but “forgot their wallet” and he was asking his staff why no one had taken down the details of the driver before he left. Not a number plate, not a vehicle make and registration, no contact details. Nothing. as he walked away he said “I’m sick and tired of people stealing from me”

And the store erupted. All of a sardine the man was accused of being racist and how can he tell them he is sick and tired of them and they are sick and tired of him.

I was gob smacked because that was NOT what he was saying at all. However, language barrier comes into play and people took offence.

I think it’s funny and sad all rolled into one baklava. Now I want to eat baklava.

I learnt all about language barriers in high school. I went to an all black school and I was the only white oke there from standard 6 right through to matric and I would often share a joke with school mates that I had heard over the weekend from mates at home and they would not understand it, take it up wrong. Because of language barriers. I spent more time explaining a joke than telling it. And might I add, when they would translate a Zulu joke into English I would have that same blank stare on my face.

It’s an interesting phenomenon.

At the moment I volunteer my spare (read little bit of spare) time teaching refugees English and I tell you I think I laugh more at myself these days than at any other time.

I guess at the end of the day, what I’m trying to say is we need to practice a little more tolerance and understanding with each other.

It’s our differences that bring us together.

Now if only I can remember who had actually said that.

Have a good one!

a new muscle

I have discovered a muscle I never knew existed! I found it right between the Tibia and Fibula. No! don’t google. Take my word for it. It’s there. I felt it.

I discovered this new muscle while playing scrabble last night. I kid you not. As I stretched over, making the word “ACRONYM” (I was first to play and everyone thought I was very clever, when actually, I was just very lucky. That’s exactly how I pulled it out the bag!) Fo Shizzel!! It was as I was placing the “M”, the longest of all the stretches, that I felt this sudden twinge in my lower leg.
It did not hurt.
It did not last very long.
It did not leave me feeling cripple.

It felt fantastic.

I find your lack of faith disturbing.

But it is there.
And I’m pleased.
And I love my new muscle.

Right now, I don’t really want to talk about muscles though. I would rather spend a minute discussing wine. I like wine. A lot. It agrees with me.
I like wine in bottles. I like wine in boxes. I like wine in cans (I’ve never actually seen wine in a can, but if there was, I’m sure I would be a fan). I like wine through straws. I like wine in the hubbly. Oh my goodness, give me wine and I’m a happy little Wozzlet.

I like Shiraz. I like Merlot. Throw in a Shiraz/merlot! I like chardonnay. I like cabernet. Really – if it comes from a grape, it must be good.

My question though, regarding wine. Think carefully now please, this is important.
What would be best served with a spicy lamb curry?
I have friends coming over for dinner tonight and I need to make a good impression!
I’m stuck.
Merlot – Shiraz – Blanc de blanc?

marijuana – natures way of saying “hiiiiigh”

I’m a stoner.
That’s the truth.
I smoke a lot. Like a lot a lot.
I don’t exactly hide it coz that’s how I roll.

Boyfriend thinks I smoke too much weed.
I think boyfriend needs to remember I smoked too much weed when we met and that aint gonna change BUT

there is a but –

when is enough, enough?

Will it come to that?

Am I going to wake up one day and be all like “oh my, look at this, I’m all mature and grown up like, why. Hello. there 30’s – time to stop smoking the greens I suppose and start wearing horrible tartan shirts and tucking a comb into my sock”

I bloody well hope not –
coz smoking tis my thing. And tartan is so not.

My mother says I should grow up.
I told her I think she should grow weed seeing as she has the space in the back garden.

It’s a work in progress.

Disclaimer – Wozzel does not mean to say that people in their 30’s wear tartan or tuck combs in their socks. He’s just saying. And just says arb things like that to make himself feel better and – why am I even writing a disclaimer? Oi oi oi.

to poo or not to poo?

Taking a poo can be a bit tricky when you are in a new relationship. Really; we don’t want to think about our partners exercising bowel movements, I get that.
It’s very much the same way we don’t want to think of our parents as being sexual beings –
…….but we know.

I used to think mine just never did. Poo that is. He stayed over so often but I had never seen him go into the bathroom for longer than a minute to take a wee – I thought it rather mysterious. Of course I never asked. I just let it be.

We were discussing the art of poo just the other day. We were talking about overcoming stage fright. Seeing as we live together now and taking into consideration that the bathroom is en suite, we thought it was necessary.

We discussed toilet etiquette. I was surprised and naturally pleased to learn that he also does. Poo that is. “I’m not the only one” I wanted to sing and shout! Instead I just said so in my head.

I don’t get stage fright. When I poo that is. For goodness sake. I just let lose.
I might open a tap.
Maybe run the shower?
You know the *cough cough* to disguise the “plimp kloomp klimp plomp”
but if you gotta go you gotta go.

When nature calls she doesn’t wait for an answer.

Yes I do believe one should be polite about it. One should be considerate and light a match, spray a spray – open the window a little perhaps.

Wozzie’s random thoughts – poo’s do’s and don’ts

One does not need to offer support. Standing outside cheering is going over board.
Asking “did you poo” in the morning - not on.
No need to announce it “honey, I’m just going for a poo. See you in a bit” No. No need. I don’t care.
Do spray. Please.
Don’t grunt. Please.
Sing – if it helps.
Do not under any circumstance name it.
Flush.

You know you have crossed a barrier, achieved a connection – reached a new level in your relationship when you ask “so was it lose or hard” and you may as well just get married right there and then on the spot because nothing is sacred anymore and you are officially a couple.

Ok, now that I’ve scared you all off and have you all shaking your head in complete shock I’m going to go now and talk shit somewhere else.

bored? bring the doom (this is a frikking classic!)

Appreciating the small things in life…

i love it

polly want a what?

So last night I decided to get the African Grey stoned.

Yip. We have an African Grey (well, our room mate does) her name is Trevor.
The African Grey, not our room mate.
I hear you.
I’m also trying to figure out that one.

Anyway. So last night I decided to get the usually chaotic, upside down hanging (I sometimes think possessed) African Grey stoned.

So funny.

Boyfriend and I were in the kitchen, I was baking (it’s my thing you see, I bake – my man eats – works for us) and puffing along when Trevor decided he would take a walk from the lounge through to the kitchen. So I started blowing smoke in her face (don’t tell the SPCA! She actually liked it I think) and after about 10 minutes of that she sauntered off back to the lounge, climbed up to the top of her cage and did not move, speak, whistle or make any psycho – deranged sounds for the rest of the evening.

She just sat there, perched on one foot staring into to space.

I was waiting for the munchies to kick in.
Would have been hilarious if she started screaming “Polly wants a fucking cracker”

Nothing.

Just silence.

When we offered her a muffin (I was baking remember) she did not accept it. Which is unusual. She eats like a dog that one.

She just sat there, staring absent mindedly into no where.

I would have paid good money to know what was going through her head last night.

christmas - it's only November

Those horrid “let’s all get excited and jump up and down and sing songs and light incense because Christmas is coming and is like only 10 weeks away” e-mails have begun.

It’s the migration of the Christmas email.
The return.

It’s Christmas – take 2009 and no matter HOW much you hope, pray, dance and sing, Santa DOES NOT look like this.

Sorry kids.




I for one can not cope.

I see some of the shopping centres are already decking their halls with bows of holly.

Tra la la la la la la la la!

Yesterday my mum sent me an e-mail asking if I had plans for Christmas lunch. (I don’t know what my plans are for lunch today! Never mind 1 months time)
My brother called to ask the same.
While chatting to my cousin, she too asked “what you up to for Christmas?”

Bugger off.
I don’t know yet.
I will let you know, like on the 23rd of December.
Or there abouts.

But..
I’ve promised (I actually had to promise) not to be mean and ugly and all grinch like this year (I’ve just failed. Dammit)
I’ve committed to embracing Christmas and have even agreed to put up a tree.

I will however not embrace Boney M.
I will not embrace eggnog.
I won’t embrace funny men in red suits and caps with fake beards.
I shant.
Nor WILL I EMBRACE or take part in any of this forwarding of Christmas cheer e-mail nonsense.

All this does really (other than irritate me) is make the time fly by even faster than it already is, and do we really need that?

I have been known to be a little on the off side and one of my alter egos will more than likely post something along the lines of excitement and joy and “spirit” (insert squeaky voice) and what I want, my “wish list” and all that jazz next week.

Oh well.


Merry Christmas everyone!

R689.50

R689.50

That’s how much I spent on toiletries yesterday.

Now tell me. How is a fabo young man like myself meant to stay looking all young and fresh and pretty when toner, cream and face wash comes to R689.50?

Ok – I’m guilty of over exaggerating. There were other items bought. All necessary I assure you.

But really now?

Ridiculous.

As for the rain today. It can bugger off.

I woke up nice and early – went for my run and then hung up the laundry (all before 5:30am. I’m a machine I tell you) because the weather man, the cutie American boy doing the weather on e-tv (isn’t he lovely) said it would be warm and dry conditions here.

Not so weather man.

Oh my godsiesn. I’m turning into my mother.
An entire blog post dedicated to toiletries and laundry.

Oi vei!

another day

It will be a song, once I can finish the bloody thing…lol
I just don’t feel it needs any more lyrics. I kinda like it just the way it is.





I just tried again, today
And it slipped away.
You can’t turn back the hands of time,
Not in this frame of mind anyway.
So I’ll try again,
On another day,
Just like any other day.

I see the sun come crashing through,
And I see the light shining on you.
I see the sun come crashing by
And I hope this time it will reach my side.

© wozzel

oh dear

words

I write a million words on my wall, and I look at them,
And laugh at myself.
I make flow charts between them,
Scientifically calculate their accuracy.
String them into silly little poems with no rhythm no rhyme.
I spike them onto sosatie sticks and braai them on hot coals,
Serve them with chilli and lime.
I sew them into pink ballet shoes and hang pretty ribbons on them.
I sever them from my body and tie them into the laces of my butch black boots.
I wear them like shiny pearls from my neck,
And I drape them on the windows in the serenity of my bedroom.
I loath in them and swim in them,
And I laugh at how they float off in big soapy bubbles.

I wish I could construct a sentence and wrap it in tissue paper,
Tie it in a bow and place it on your door step.
Then tomorrow, when you wake,
It will be there,
These words I chose for you.

I know you will find them,
Somewhere inside me in time to come.

puff and pass

I'm just NOT SO SURE this look is working for me.

moving on - and moving in

And what is this?
I’ve fallen into the “trap”

A trap I’ve quite happily fallen into though.

Yes, I’ve joined them, because I can not beat them.

I am officially cohabitating. My partner has moved in and I don’t even really know how it happened. It kind of just did.

We’ve been together for a good couple of months now (most stable relationship of my life I will add) and he has practically lived with me for the last two, we’ve just made it official now.

By that I mean I’ve had to make space in my cupboards for all his shoes and clothes. Let me not get started on the toiletries.

Ok, let me get started on them!

I’ve never been one of those “iron clothes before going out” or even “shaving before going out” kind of guys. I never knew what toner was, or what one was meant to do with it. Cream to me was something served with cheesecake. THIS MAN IS INSANE! Takes him a good hour just to get ready in the mornings. And now I’ve succumbed. Although will admit to having better looking skin these days :)

Anyway – the important thing is that I’m happy. I really am. For the first time in a very – very long time.

It’s still sinking in though. Not that I have a boyfriend who I live with. The fact that I have a boyfriend. It was something I had wanted for so long. For such a very long time I was sad. I felt left out. I felt like why was no one interested in me for anything else than sex?

Now I have this man in my life who makes me feel like I’m just the bees knees.

“even when I was flat broke, you made me feel like a million bucks”

I wish I knew who it was that sings that song that line comes from, but I don’t.

It makes me smile a million smiles each time I hear it now.

the death of a blog

edited and deleted and what not, due to trolls.

I write. That is what I do. Be it nonsense, be it a poem to pizza be it my heart dangling from a sleeve and I don’t want to stop writing.

One mans junk is another mans treasure

One mans junk is another mans treasure.
Or gold.
Or what ever it is.
I don’t know how the saying goes exactly.

How very true though.

The last few weeks have seen me in a reflective space. Looking at things from different angles and with new eyes.

Change. Such a nice word change, because it leaves open so much.

Expectation?
Room for growth?

What if Aladdin had never rubbed that golden lamp? What if while stumbling through the different corridors and rooms he had over looked the dusty old lamp thrown there by who ever had thought, agg, just another kak, dusty old lamp?

It might still be lying there.

Instead he picked it up and cleaned it knowing there was something special underneath the layers of dirt and grime.

And how right he was.

I know there are a few people out there in the world who think I’m junk.
That’s fine.
There are a few people out in the world who I think are junk.

Here’s the lovely part though…

To someone they are gold.
To someone they shine.
To someone they are the most precious thing on the face of the world.

Someone sees the beauty in them. The truths and the secrets hidden deep down.
Someone was or is or will break down those walls.
Clean away the mucky muckness.

And really, that’s all that counts.
That someone will.

And in the end.
They score for not being afraid.

change

In life you grow and you change.
However I find there will always be people who will say “But I know you. This is who you are” forgetting that people grow, forgetting that that’s not (actually) who I am. That is (actually) who I was.

(actually)

People go through phases in life, lessons – disruptions – addictions (be it people or things or stuffs) and people change.

But people, being people, won’t let you forget that will they? They want to remind you of it, over and over again. They want to remind you that you slipped once or twice. Even when you’ve cut those people out of your life they will find a way to worm their way in somewhere just to have their last word.

(tut tut)

I am not the same person I was in January 2007
I was not the same person in January of 2008
The person I was in January 2009 – is someone I’m actually quite glad to have left behind. And with it, people I associated with then.

What am I trying to say?

I’m saying fuck you to every person who has judged me in ill light for the choices I made in the past. The things I did. The places I went to. The things I said. Unless there is proof that I am indeed that same person. That same fool! Because FOOL is what a person who continues making the wrong choices is. If you can prove that the knocks on my head, the bruises on my knees did nothing more than leave a scar. Then go for it. call a spade a fucking spade.

Or did I learn to duck my head when walking through a low door way?
Did I read the “slippery when wet” sign – Did I learn a lesson from the one taught?

Guess what? Here is a new flash.

Each path, each road I could have possibly have chosen to walk down would have led me right here to where I am now. I did not take the road you chose. Nor did I chose yours. Or you over there in the pink blouse.

It’s called life. You walk the path you chose. No one else's.

Deal with it.

I am. And I’m loving it!

Oh, ps – I always have the last word.