The life of a Wozzel

helloooooo

2011-08-02T12:36:00.002+02:00

Well.

i must say thank you to all of you that sent me frantic messages enquiring about my whereabouts these last few (12) weeks, and your concerns. Of course you know im talking shit. hehe. Coz actaully none of you did. But thats ok. I pay a therapist to deal with that side of me.

In real life though, the last 12 weeks have been insane. it's been a bit cray cray. lets see. boyfriend and i break up. 2 weeks later i get held up at gun point in my flat and robbed (uurgh!) two weeks after that, i get fired.

yes. fired from my job of 4 years.

And i'm like - WTF? nou hoekom? (which means "now, why?") for non Saffas.

very mad. very busy. very tiring, BUT - i like got a job and bought a sexy new scooter and threw away the glasses, got contacts lenses and bought jeans that actually fit me for a change and dont make me look like a lesbian from the Bluff. so i was like, Life, you silly twat. you throw me lemmons? im not going to waste my time making lemonade when i can go buy some myself. instead, i will throw these lemons right back at you, bitch.

today

2011-06-08T12:46:00.000+02:00

Today I looked at photographs that used to make me happy,
Then one day - they started to make me sad.
They would make me smile then make me cry.

Today – I looked at them, and I smiled.
Today – I remembered.
Today – I laughed until little laugh tears came out my eyes.

No one can take away – can not delete memories.
I would not want that to happen.

For then I would surely cry!

Instead they are making me laugh –

Good – happy – fun memories.

They don’t make me sad anymore.
I just remember – and I’m glad it happened.
And I miss you, and I love you –

And I know that this is just the way it has to be.

i am legend

2011-06-05T12:32:00.000+02:00

It is generally known amongst those of you who know (very clever Wozzie) that I like my early mornings. My day starts between 04:30 am and 05:30 am depending on how I’ve slept the night before.

People always want to know why I wake up so early. And the answer is quite simple. This is me time, when I’m left alone to my thoughts and the day - as it begins. My morning meditations are not that spiritual, I don’t bang a gong or hum a hum – I simply tell myself to STOP – and enjoy a new beginning. The sun, wiping the sleep out his eyes, again, depending on his mood, will either rush out of bed in a blaze of glory, or just take his time and slowly crawl on out, sometimes he makes his bed, sometimes he does not, leaving pillows of clouds lying around.

It is also a time when the world is usually at its nicest… asleep. A time when the birds, who are usually drowned out by the droning greyness of everyday, lift their voices to the sky and welcome in a new morning, splashed with oranges and yellows.

It’s a time I’m left to the sound of my own foot steps on a tar road, pushing through sweat and aching muscles. The beating of my heart and the stinging in my eyes reminding me I’m still alive. Breathing in a cooler, fresher air. This is the time I can pretend that the earth is more than just mud and my toes are more than tools of balance. It is unforgiving and all encompassing to hold the day for exactly what it is… completely unplanned and unaccounted for.

This is when I get to take a step back from who I am everyday. This is when I remind myself to stand on my own two feet! This is when I remember, I’m running on my own two feet!

I am a bird and I’m singing again, I am free. And here, where no one can see me, I fly!

This is the time I read. Where I find time to write. When ideas rush in (where angels fear to tread? Sometimes I fear to tread there!) Where I can sit in bed and play the guitar. Where my words are free and it does not matter what I say or what I sing. Who I think and what I am.

This is where I once would wrap, so carefully, each fear, insecurity and word that I held onto in fear of being unheard, unnoticed - uninteresting, in layer upon layer of bubble wrap.

These mornings have become a sanctuary.

I am no longer afraid of my words.

I drape them in the serenity of my bedroom. String them into silly rhythms and nonsical rhymes. I swim with them and laugh with them and watch them float off in big blue bubbles. I watch them chase playfully after butterflies. I day dream and I make wishes.

I ask the words, to stay with me for the day. I ask them to help me know when to say what needs to be said, take a step back and remain silent where I need to just listen. Let me rub out lines that should not be there. Let my words not be walls around me, but rather a door to open. A story to read.

Today I mark another day off my calendar, but not off my life. I wish to live everyday as a living statement of who I am.

I do not want to miss a thing.

I am superman, bouncing from one couch to another on a movie set, that looks remarkably like my living room and I laugh at myself in the mirror, flying past in my bright red cape. Wooooooosh!!

I am super-gardener, tending to the crops growing on the windowsills in my apartment.

I am super-businessman, getting ready to jet off to LA. Holding board meetings with the dishes piling in the sink.

I am a super- rock-star on centre stage - in my bathroom. The world is my oyster. And the soap gives me a standing ovation.

I am legend

how old are you really?

2011-05-26T11:30:00.003+02:00

ok, so i was reading this random nonsense on a news site. i'm not so sure how and why its meant to work or what all it means, but in the name of random i decided to post it. according to this "test" my "body age" is 32. that's 2 years than i am.

"London - You don’t need to wait for the £400 (about R4 500) telomere test - just take our eight-point quiz to work out how well your body is ageing.
To do the calculation, start with your actual age now and add or subtract years for every “yes” answer.

If you score “younger” than your real age, that means your telomeres are in good shape for a long and healthy life.

1: Do you exercise for at least 45 minutes three or more times a week? Subtract five years.

2: Do you smoke? Add ten.

3: Do you drink four or more units of alcohol (two glasses) a day. Add seven.

4: Do you sleep for between seven and nine hours most nights? Subtract five.

5: Does your waist measure less than 91cm (male) or less than 81cm (female)? Subtract five.

6: Do you take a daily supplement of 3,000mg or more of omega 3 fish oil? Subtract five.

7: Generally speaking, are you happy? Subtract seven.

8: Do you eat fried foods more than twice a week? Add three. - Daily Mail"

ROAD TO RECOVERY

2011-05-09T12:49:00.001+02:00

I have been so quiet on blogs of late. Of course there are reasons for it all. I dont want to go too much into it, but here I'm posting a poem written by a lady I know. I think she is an awesome writer and beautiful person and this poem really brings it all together.

For the heartbroken kids out there, it will get better.

ROAD TO RECOVERY

The vehicle is not destroyed, sweet child,
your view has simply been distorted;
it is a small crack,
like a hairline in the windshield glass.

Drive slowly,
stop often to rest and look around you.

Breathe, refuel.

The journey will take its own twists,
make yourself supple for the winding road.

If you get lost I will come for you,
no matter the height of the moon,
nor the nearness of morning.

I promise you this.

©Cindy Taylor 2008

a few pictures

2011-04-11T07:36:00.004+02:00

I really could not have been arsed to try get these photos in to any sort of order. They are just random pictures I took on my cell phone over the weekend. And what an awesome weekend it was. Debauchery on Friday evening. Friends, fund and sun on Saturday and ended the weekend off with a comedy show at the Catalina Theater. Good times I tell you… good times.

And now, it’s back to the grindstone as to say… happy Monday everybuddy.

Don’t let me fall.

2011-04-08T07:47:00.001+02:00

I sit here on this cold, dark and rainy morning barely hanging on for dear life.

Satan manifested himself last night. In the form of merlot.

3 bottles to be exact.

And although I’m usually quite strong and handle hangovers well, this can not even be called a hangover. Fallen RIGHT over is how I’m feeling right now.

If there is any justice in this world, the work day will swallow up huge chunks of itself and release me kindly back to the comfort of my oversized lounge suit where I want to curl up under a blanket and not have to move until at least 11:30 am tomorrow morning.

This is however all my own fault and so do not expect any sympathy from you lot.

It sure would be nice though :)

perfect picture

2011-04-07T16:20:00.003+02:00

Just recieved this picture and almost died from laughter... have a little pun wont you?

This is exactly what I would like to say to about 98% of the people I work with today.
hehe.

thursday shmursday

2011-04-07T16:06:00.002+02:00

Urgh.
Moan.
Groan.
Sob.
Weep.
Grr.
Bite.
Gnashing of teeth.
Bawl.
Crawl.
Bash my head in on desk.
Ja.
Another day in the office…
Ja.
Baaa!

SCREAM!

BUT - in 20minutes time I'm leaving the office. And i will get over myself. My irritation. My frustration.

AND THEN - I get to see my friend :) Who I've not seen in tooooo long. Us busy people who work too much...

I foresee an evening of debauchery – much wine, the occasional joint and pizza!

Yes. The day is starting looking better already.

of peas

2011-04-05T08:11:00.001+02:00

I just had a nice chat with my brother, we took a little trip down memory lane. He reminded me of something that happened when we lived with our grandparents for a little while. When he was five years old, my brother ran away from home because we were having peas. My gran put the plate down in front of him and David slammed his fists on the table.

"That's it! I have had it!" he muttered.He stomped over to the door, pulled on his shoes and left.

My gran and I watched him from the lounge window of the house as he set out across the yard between the house and the road, where there was a bus stop, his presumed destination.It had been raining for a few days so David only got a few meters away before his shoes were covered in mud and he started getting tired.

I remember seeing him fall and he did his best to hold his long pants up to keep it dry and tried to pull out of the sucking mud, but only succeeded in removing one of his feet from its shoe. He stood there for a moment, holding his leg up, teetering on it, aimlessly flailing his blue-socked foot in mid-air.My gran and I were in hysterics, and David must have sensed us watching because he looked over his shoulder at us. That caused him to lose his balance and he slammed his shoeless foot down into the mud. Then he pulled his other foot out of its shoe and repeated the previous teetering, dangling, flailing motions.

My gran looked at me, "We shouldn't be laugh....oooh ha ha ha ha ha."I couldn't answer because I was rolling on the floor in the joy that only an older brother could experience in this moment. When I got up and looked again, David was knee-deep with both legs, still trying to hold his pants up. And he started to cry. And then it started to rain. Hard.

My gran grabbed an umbrella and sloshed out to get him. I could hear David's wailing get louder as she carried him back to the house, the way an ambulance siren gets louder as it comes down the street towards you. Of course, I took every opportunity to mock him and make it worse.

The next day, my grandfather took him into the yard with a spade and made him dig up his shoes. Then he made sure my gran served us peas again.

friday

2011-04-01T16:11:00.000+02:00

smiley face

2011-03-31T09:41:00.002+02:00

I love quite time.

In fact, I crave it. I need moments, minutes, hours – sometimes days where I can just be alone. Where the only sound I hear is that of the wind rustling in the leaves of the trees outside my bedroom window. Or just the sound of me walking from the living room to the kitchen and opening the fridge to get some cold water.

I love it.

There have been times I’ve given my boyfriend money and said “goodbye – have fun. Treat yourself to lunch or go have a drink at the pub, but just stay away for 2 hours or so. ok, thank you. love you”

Then there are my walks. These are my favorite. Just me, myself and I – the trees on the side of the road, the cars driving past – the little houses, the big houses. The parks. The shops, the ocean.

I really do try find the beauty, the peace, the humor in all I see.

Last week on one such walk I came across this random smiling face painted over a drain hole covering…

It made me smile, and maybe it will make you too.

on the road again

2011-03-30T14:41:00.001+02:00

Once upon a time I was short and fat.

Then I started running and found that not only did I love it, but I also became thin. Like, I lost 18kg or so… that’s a lot of man to lose you know.

Then I got a boyfriend. And two years later I’m lazy and don’t run. Still short, and getting fat all over again . eish.

THEN – I was asked if I would run in a race. Our company was taking part in a relay called “Mudman” and they needed a runner for the team. So I agreed to run.

Out of – I don’t know, a lot of teams, we placed fourth, and my time in the race was surprisingly good. I was quite chuffed, and now, I’m all motivated to run again. my best friend has accused me of turning into a lesbian. Bless.

Anyway. that’s my story. As boringly brilliant as it is I really must get back to work. but here is a nice picture of my leg with my race number, and then a picture of yachts at Wilson’s Wharf, which is one of my face places to go and chill…

Bye bye.

got this from Niks blog

2011-03-16T15:41:00.000+02:00

Saw this on Niks blog :)

Name: Wozzel

Country: South Africa

Age: 30

How old were you when you first realized you were gay? I knew very early in life. I did not admit it immediately or always understand what was going on, but I knew I was different. But the time I was 16 I knew for sure that I was gay.

Do you have more gay friends or straight friends? I think I have a really nice balance of gay and straight friends. I prefer having more straight friends though. Just less drama I suppose.

Biggest turn on? Blue eyes. Humour. Hairy chest. (that was exactly what Nik said) and my boyfriend is all of those :)

Biggest turn off? People who have no drive. No ambition.

Ever been harassed due to your orientation? No. I’ve been quite lucky in the sense that I’ve never been given a hard time for being gay.

Have you ever been surprised at the reaction of people who know you are gay? People are often surprised when they first find out. I always think it’s quite funny.

What is the worst gay stereotype? Sex. Screaming queens. Will and Grace.

Are you a stereotype? Nope

Ever been to a pride rally? Yes. Cape Town and Johannesburg.

Do you go to gay bars? I refuse to!! I hate gay bars, clubs etc. I just don’t have the energy or time.

How old were you when you first told someone you were gay? 16

Did you plan it? If so, how? No. I was with my best friend and we were talking and I was like “heyyyy – hahaha – I’m gay”

What made you choose that person to tell? Was my best friend. I felt I could trust him. And I could.

How did you feel? I was so glad I finally had someone to talk to. And I loved how he used to tease me. He would always point out at guys and say “oh look, do you think he is cute” and then he would laugh. I loved it. I finally felt relieved of a stress.

Have you ever been snubbed by someone after coming out to them? No

Have you come out to your family? Yes. They have been really great about it.

Why did you come out at that point? I could not pretend anymore, plus I was worried it would come out somewhere else and it would first be a “rumor” and I wanted to be the one who told my family myself.

Are you out at work? Yes

What does being out mean to you? To me, it means living life like a normal person who does not have to hide who they are.

What advice would you give someone wanting to come out? It gets better :)

If you could do it all again, would you do it any differently? If so, how? I would not change a thing. Really.

of blue cakes and turning 30

2011-03-14T11:02:00.001+02:00

I cried myself to sleep the eve of my 30th birthday. Not because I was turning 30, but because a culmination of stressful events were becoming even more stressful and presenting new challenges that I was quite simply, not in the mood for. Coupled with fierce nostalgia and memories of my gran telling me what a big boy I was becoming on my 13th birthday 17 years earlier – it was all just too much.

I woke up on the 14th of March 2011 with more hair than I thought I would at 30, and a pimple the size of South Africa on my chin.

“I’m 30” I shouted at it. “30! What the fuck is there a pimple on my face for at 30!”

The pimple just looked at me with a cheeky look, sneering at me as pimples do and continued being a pimple. “Fucktard” I shouted at it. “Dam you!”

My gran called me on the morning of my 30th, and sang “Happy Birthday to you” as she always does and I cried just a little at the beauty of it and the shakiness in her voice, then laughed when she said “you’re catching up to me now old man” I felt such a warmth and love come over me. To have my gran singing happy birthday for me at this stage in my life. I’m lucky. I know it. I appreciate it, and I tell her every day.

I’m not one for holidays and celebrations. I don’t go crazy doodle over Valentines; I don’t hide chocolate eggs on Easter. I don’t get all “Merrily on high” over Christmas, but there is something about birthdays… something special and magic and I believe that everyone should celebrate their birthdays.

At least! If nothing else at all.

I’ve had a few. 30 in fact, so I think myself a bit of a professional in this regard. I’ve been planning my own birthday parties since I was 11 – the year of the blue cake. The year no one ate cake at my birthday party. My mother did warn me I was not following the instructions properly – but I was in control and I was doing this my way.

Hehe. That ugly blue cake.

And now, 19 years later I still celebrate my birthday in the grandest style I can. This year will be a small private affair. Just going out for dinner with my family and boyfriend and I can not think of anything else I would rather be doing.

I don’t bake blue cakes anymore, but I think tonight I just might.

shock

2011-02-22T18:20:00.000+02:00

It has just dawned me that I have only 20 days left before I'm no longer 20something.

Somehow - an awfully insignificant event seems, well, significant.

We'll see I guess.

of history, that's mine. some of it.

2011-02-22T11:34:00.001+02:00

Today on facebook, an aunt of mine, who lives in England posted an old photograph of a newspaper article cut out. I never knew my dad or his side of the family but since the birth of facebook I’ve found some of them – although communication is very limited. What would we say to each other?

One of the men in the photographs face jumped right out at me! “hmmm… I know those features… blimey! He’s got a face like mine!!!”

Anyway.. Turns out this pic is one of my grandfather and his assistant. He was apparently quite a clever man who worked with the old steam trains and this pic was taken on the day that one, I believe to be named “Lady Mona” did her last rail trip from Port Shepstone to Durban.

That’s all I got. I’ve e-mailed family for more information coz I be like, interested to know more.

So..

“hey hey! nice to see your face for the first time in my life. and might I just say, what a handsome face it is, although the generations have been good to me and I pull it off just a bit better than you – just saying”

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#
After post edit
#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

I’ve had a response to my email to my aunt in the UK and she is emailing me the article clipping that can not be seen in the pic. Woot woot.

my teenage dream

2011-02-15T10:43:00.000+02:00

Only a friend would send an email containing pictures of my latest celebrity crush at opportune moments. When I really needed a smile…

Having a bad day this side… agg, fek it, who am I kidding, I’m having a bad month.

And then.. sigh, voila – I have Darren Criss half naked on e-mail. Hehe. Tis a best friends duty to remember the little things like this in life.

What is it about him?

The full lips?
The dark smoldering eyes?
The thick brown hair?

The fact that he can sing?

I don’t know. I don’t care. I just want to lick him.

dexter

2011-02-04T09:46:00.002+02:00

This morning Dexter caught his first bird.

At all of 5 months old, my cat child is a murderer.

The baby pigeon he managed to get his claws into never stood a chance.

There was just so much blood and feathers! I was completely freaked out. I understand that this is what cats do, and I’ve been ok with the geckos, but a bird. It’s just messy.

And so there he was. My beautiful boy, covered in blood and grinning from ear to ear.

I can not cope.

Could not bring myself to take a picture of him covered in blood but here is a nice pretty picture of him.

whipped my hair back and forth

2011-01-31T11:16:00.002+02:00

I always seem to take things to the extreme when I’m alone. Like this weekend for example. The boyfriend needed to go away on Saturday morning, gets back home tomorrow, but since he’s been gone all I’ve done is eat junk food, drink copious amounts of beer and wine and update my facebook. Like 300 times a day and you can tell how bored / pissed I am because yesterday all I did was talk about Willow Smith.

Sad eh?

What’s sadder is that I actually love her song. I cant get enough of it. and it makes me want to dance in a naughty way, which just freaks me out because it’s sung my a 9 year old.

There is something not right about that, but who am I to say so.

I feel like death warmed up, but I’m not complaining. This is entirely my own fault. I’m going to look for a hole to crawl into and wait for this day to end. I need my bed.

Am I the only one who thinks Willow looks like she could be an extra in Avatar? It’s terrible that I’m talking about a child like this, but really. It’s not my fault.

I'm stumblin', tumblin', wonderin', I'm travelin' thru

2011-01-27T14:36:00.000+02:00

Do you have a theme song? One for your life? ya know? Even Ally Mc Beal had one. You really should think about getting one for yourself if you don’t already.

I think that a theme song will say / can say / does say a lot about who you are as a person, or in the very least, how you see yourself. My friend Karin, the one who passed away two weeks ago, her theme song was “Mama Mia” - can you believe it? hehe. It makes me smile. It was played full blast after her funeral while we were still at the church.

God that made me cry and smile and still wiping the tears out of my eyes I could not help but burst out laughing.

I’m sure she was sitting up on her cloud laughing back.

Anyhoodle, I digress.

My theme song is a song I love very much. Sang by a woman I love very much. It was also the song voted “best represents wozzel” by a group of my friends back in 2008.

And I want this played at my funeral one day too. I think that it really sums me up. I don’t know why exactly, but it feels right.

Dolly Parton – Traveling Through (I’m so sweet, I even copied the words down for you all to read)

Well I can't tell you where I'm going, I'm not sure of where I've been
But I know I must keep travelin' till my road comes to an end
I'm out here on my journey, trying to make the most of it
I'm a puzzle, I must figure out where all my pieces fit

Like a poor wayfaring stranger that they speak about in song
I'm just a weary pilgrim trying to find what feels like home
Where that is no one can tell me, am I doomed to ever roam
I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' on

Questions I have many, answers but a few
But we're here to learn, the spirit burns, to know the greater truth
We've all been crucified and they nailed Jesus to the tree
And when I'm born again, you're gonna see a change in me

God made me for a reason and nothing is in vain
Redemption comes in many shapes with many kinds of pain
Oh sweet Jesus if you're listening, keep me ever close to you
As I'm stumblin', tumblin', wonderin', as I'm travelin' thru

I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru
I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru

Oh sometimes the road is rugged, and it's hard to travel on
But holdin' to each other, we don't have to walk alone
When everything is broken, we can mend it if we try
We can make a world of difference, if we want to we can fly

Goodbye little children, goodnight you handsome men
Farewell to all you ladies and to all who knew me when
And I hope I'll see you down the road, you meant more than I knew
As I was travelin', travelin', travelin', travelin', travelin' thru

I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin'
Drifting like a floating boat and roaming like the wind
Oh give me some direction lord, let me lean on you
As I'm travelin', travelin', travelin', thru

I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru
I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru

Like the poor wayfaring stranger that they speak about in song
I'm just a weary pilgrim trying to find my own way home
Oh sweet Jesus if you're out there, keep me ever close to you
As I'm travelin', travelin', travelin', as I'm travelin' thru

Madiba

2011-01-27T08:16:00.000+02:00

Just the other day, like last week or so, the world was a buzz with news that our ex President, Nelson Mandela had taken ill and was pretty much “on his way out”

These rumors we quashed and immediately people took offence and articles were written and “who ever” started these rumors and supported them were called “malicious” and other ugly things…

But they were. And deserved to be called much worse.

Only, now, reports are that Nelson Mandela has indeed taken ill and is currently in hospital. This has been confirmed.

Lets be real here. The man is 92 years old. What do we expect? For him to live forever? He is a great man who has accomplished many wonderful things in his life – but he is not a God and one day, whenever that is, he will pass on.

It’s going to be one crazy day I’m sure.
Not only will the world feel this loss, but an entire nation, a country – us, South Africa will feel that blow 100 times more.

I’ve read a few articles in the past written by Educated people, Doctors and Professors etc, who have discussed the “depression” the country and world would most probably go into once this day arrives, and I can see how it could be true.

I mean, for goodness sake, the world went mad when Elvis died, and all he really did was dress up in strange outfits and sing songs.

Blah blah blah.. I could go on and on. The point is, it’s a sad situation, but most definitely one that wont just go away.

aah. love. hehe.

2011-01-26T16:15:00.001+02:00

I’ve decided that I’m in love with Darren Criss.

And I want to have his babies.

Well, we could practice as much as we need to.

Ya know?

His smile makes my groin all tingly.

And just incase you’ve been living under a rock in the Transvaal, he’s the dude in Glee who sang “Teenage Dream” for Kurt…

Sigheth.

Die Kurt. Die.

just another day

2011-01-20T09:46:00.001+02:00

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.

uuurgh!

2011-01-19T15:51:00.002+02:00

I’m currently faced with a life changing decision.

Do I stay or do I go?

And I’m not asking for answers, I get that only I can make the decision, but I need to get it out there. Off my chest. I need to write about it because I find it difficult to speak about it.

I’ve always wanted to travel. I had tried once before to do the London thing, but for what ever reason, at the time – my Visa application was declined. Out of the 10 friends I had applied with I was the only one declined and was not even given a reason.

I don’t even really want to go to any particular place, I just want to go somewhere. Somewhere different. Somewhere that is not here. I want see. Touch. Experience something new. Something I cant here.

I’m thinking of going to Thailand for a year to teach English.

There. I said it.

And I’ve been pushing this thought, yes, this very thought, to the back of my mind where I file all those other “things that will probably never happen” for years now. Years. But ya know what. It keeps coming back. Every now and again, just as I get all comfortable in life thinking – aaah, finally I have all I wanted; life is good, tra la la la la – BANG! The thoughts come creeping back. And then I push them back, and they say “fuck you” and they creep in again.

I’m finding it increasingly difficult to ignore this of late.

I have only really spoken to my boyfriend about this and he says “go for it”.
He says “I will still be here when you get back, it’s only a year”
He says “It’s an experience of a life time”
He says “I loved my year in Taiwan”
He says “It keeps coming back to you babe. Go. Enjoy. See. Experience.”

And I’m petrified. I’m frozen in fear. I’m having the toughest time just MAKING the decision.

I don’t want to be away from him for so long.

And at the same time. He is the only reason (I sincerely believe) that I am being so hesitant at the moment. A part of me has made up my mind but the other part is saying “what if EVERYTHING you know changes after this? And can you really leave him behind?”

Oh I’ve tried convincing him to come with me. As he points out, he’s already done it. He experienced it all. He is a very lucky man in the sense that he had all the opportunity in the world to travel and has been everywhere.

The reason I have not spoken to friends and family is because I don’t want to get peoples imaginations running. I don’t want other people involved just yet.

I just want to make the right decision. And it’s bloody scary.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*
After post edit
*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I'm also really scared (concerned) about what will happen when I get back. It's tough to find work in this country. Especialy if you are a white male. And even more so when you're over 30. Which I will be should I go.

sigheth.

I guess this is goodbye

2011-01-13T10:16:00.002+02:00

cheating death

2011-01-11T15:14:00.002+02:00

when I get there, we will drink apple martinis together again...

2011-01-10T09:57:00.000+02:00

I’ve had such an amazing weekend. Unfortunately also sad day. A very dear friend of mine, who has been fighting cancer for the last 6 years passed away yesterday afternoon. When I first got the news I did not believe it. I had to call her husband for confirmation. It just did not seem right. It was not real. Could it be? Could my friend, the machine – the fighter really be gone? I got to work this morning, very sad. You see, this friend of mine used to work here with us. She was our supervisor. So we are a company in mourning. I was not at work on Friday because I had fallen. My back went into spasm and I was confined to a bed in hospital on Thursday evening and all of Friday. What I did not know was that she had come in to the office on Friday for a quick visit. I of course was not here. There was a note left on my desk, it read :

“Wozzie! I was here and you weren’t; now you’re here and I am not! Miss you. Lots of love from me”

I think it is amazing that I have this – but it hurts knowing she is not here anymore. It’s like this was her goodbye to me.

We now need to learn to Rest In Peace in her absence, and I truly pray and hope that she too has now found peace.

of glass doors... that's all

2011-01-06T16:11:00.001+02:00

Had a really nice chat with my boss today. Just mentioned that last year, for whatever reason, I was not really “here”. Not “in the zone” and not really “feeling” it.

Work that is.

And how I got back to work this year thinking that I am going to really just try make it work. Give it a real good bashing.

I went on to say that it’s been crap though and that already in this first week back it feels as if I’m really just hitting glass doors. Every time I’ve tried something new or tried to be proactive (already in 4 days) I’ve just had a tough time getting what I need from other departments, colleagues etc…

He said something I really liked and I’m going to try my best to remember this.

“Keep trying. Keep giving it all you can. Let’s look for the options. There must be options. Can we not take the door down? Perhaps we need to open those glass doors. If we can’t, then maybe we need to paint them so at least you can see them there before you walk into them. What ever you do, don’t give up.”

I like it, because I’m famous for walking into glass doors. So, if we cant take the doors down. Lets open them. And if that still does not work. Paint the door so you can see it before you walk SMACK into it.

Oh. And HAPPY NEW YEAR you’all

ding dong merrily on high

2010-12-15T11:05:00.003+02:00

I see the word "high" has featured in a few posts this week. hehe. HIIIIIGH!

anyway.

Christmas is around the corner and my shopping is done. I’ve bought books for everyone. I’ve actually bought so many books in the last few days I could open a library. My living room has one times big box of books sitting in the middle of it - all by South African authors. It’s the right thing to do :)

I don’t have a big family. In fact, I have tiny family. Suits me (and my pocket) fine, and I also chose not to have a massive circle of friends. So it really is quite easy.

The thing I love about a book is that it can passed on. And I do so suggest that people do this. I make it a rule. I keep very few books unless I know for sure that I’m going to want to read it again. Even then, after reading it twice I will “pay it forward”

The only thing I’m not looking forward to is that I have to work right through. I am off today until Monday, but then back in the office until I go on holiday in Feb / March. Not looking forward to the silence in the office. Then again, maybe I will have time to sit down and write again because I’ve neglected this significant part of my life this year only penning randomness and nothing creative or stimulating.

Anyway – I’m bored of typing now. So before I go do tell me…

How do you all buy gifts, if you do at all?
Do you choose to only buy for the children in the family? (As I see has become a norm in my social circle)
Do you buy for everyone?
Do you balance on the fine line of bankruptcy in order to get the biggest and best for those you buy for?

What will you be doing over the “festive” season?

What ever you’re doing, have fun. Be safe – and happy holidays.

up high

2010-12-15T10:24:00.001+02:00

This here little picture was taken when we landed (for the first time) on top of Armstrong Hill.

10 Things I’ve learnt about my pussy.

2010-12-14T14:11:00.002+02:00

1) He loves water, going as far as jumping into the shower when one of us is in or sitting on the garden wall when the rain is pouring outside.

2) He eats like a horse.

3) He wants to kill the Christmas tree.

4) Gardens are not for looking pretty and watching things grow. They are for digging holes, eating plants and destroying.

5) At 4 months, the vet has said he is the same size, if not bigger, than most adult cats. And yes, he really is getting big

6) He loves music. When I play guitar he sits at my feet and watches.

7) He thinks I’m his human cat mother. Follows me everywhere.

8) He will only eat pellets. Hates all those fancy cat treats and will not touch fish? Except those in the pond. I don’t get it either.

9) He loves Daz and I – and that makes us feel super special.

10) He looks so gay in the purple glitter bling collar we bought him that we decided to take it off, and leave it off.

so high in the sky

2010-12-13T14:20:00.001+02:00

A close friend of mine was able to arrange a helicopter trip around Durban for him, my boyfriend and I on Saturday morning. This was to be my first trip in a helicopter.

Who knew it would also be my last?

When we arrived my very first thought was how the hell are we all fitting into this little flying machine? It looked to me like nothing more than a little toy chopper. A 4 seater we were advised.

I was already nervous. As it is I don’t like being in an airplane and here I was in what looked like an egg. I was able to stay calm as the blades began turning and tried my best to stop my leg from shaking uncontrollably. As we lifted off the ground from Virginia Airport and the ocean came into view I knew then that this was a bad idea.

Now before I continue I want to say this. The views are stunning. Durban is an amazing city with the most beautiful hills and lush tropical landscape – but I hated every minute of being in the air. Every minute.

And so – off we went down the coast – that was beautiful and the only time I was less stressed, and then past the Sun Coast Casino. As we flew along the coast line I was able to open my eyes, just for a second and I tried my best to enjoy the amazing opportunity I was experiencing. Looking to my left as my boyfriend so excitedly pointed out different buildings and my friend in the front half hanging out the window, both of them clearly having the time of their lives I silently prayed that I would find some peace and join in on the fun. I could not though. I just could not. As I’ve said, and am sure to repeat, I was petrified.

From North beach side we continued towards South beach and to the Durban harbor before turning around and heading back towards where we began. ONLY, this was not to be the end of the trip. No. Sir. Reeee. The fucking pilot announces we’ve only just begun.

Well yes. I had only just begun shitting my pants.

(it is pretty though hey?)

We took a sharp left just after the Sun Coast Casino, and as the helicopter did a little break dance mid air we were assured that this was only because the buildings along the promenade disturb the wind, so it causes a wee bit of turbulence.

Yeah. Caused a wee bit of wee in me too.

We then began flying over the Umgeni River mouth and continued for another 15 or so kilometers as the residential areas of Umgeni and then Inanda and then, well, I forget, zoomed past below.

That is when I saw the mountain. YES A MOUNTAIN. Ok, a hill. A very big one. A very big one called Armstrong Hill. A hill I never even knew existed. And so we were flying directly toward the hill when the pilot announced we would be landing on top for a pic nic. After turning around to get the best wind, the chopper lifted higher and then moved over to the top of the hill where we had a nice, soft landing.

I immediately asked where I could find a bus or taxi to get back home to Durban. I appologised profusely but admitted that I was not handling this all too well. He, the pilot, the pilot I would have pushed off that mountain had I not needed him a little later, laughed and asked if I realized I was on top of a mountain in the middle of no where and that I could very well try get down and call a cab, but that it might take a day or two. So reluctantly I sat down and ate the fresh strawberries and blueberries and gooseberries and berries and berries, and croissants and muffins and champers.

Now I am sure you’re all quite capable of guessing how one gets off a high hill when one is in a helicopter. Yip – you kinda just move forward and off and the chopper does a dip, and so do some peoples bowels, before you lift again, leaving behind said bowels and fly off into the clouds once more. We were now on our way back to the airport and I was both joyous and nervous all over again.

By the time we had landed I was a wreck. My hands were bruised from holding onto the bar in front of me so tightly. My leg was still doing the strange hippy pagan dance and I chained smoked like 3 ciggies all at once.

Thank you Quitch, for a wonderful opportunity. I know that Daz loved every minute of it and you completely made his day…….. but the next time you’re offered a helicopter trip you can count me out.

And to my Daz. My love… I promise – you still look 21 (and as gorgeous as ever). Happy 32 BIRTHDAY!!!

I saw the sign

2010-12-06T10:07:00.001+02:00

(for the sake of this here blog post, I shall refer to my boyfriend as Richard. I don’t know why, Richard is a perfectly good name I think)

After an unfortunate argument over a very silly situation I found myself asking myself “do I really want to be in a relationship?”

There is a part of me that is fighting for the freedom of going solo. That “me” of some years back who lived alone, and quite successfully so. I could come and go when I wanted, do the things that only I want to do and not worry about whether I’m using too much Thyme on the roast chicken (because you don’t like it, well I do).

The petty, maybe childish me who does not want to grow up? Who does not want to share. Who is greedy and wants you to stop messing with my hair.

Then there is that even larger part of me that knows I’m so madly and deeply in love. Who knows that I don’t really want to be alone – and not just alone, I just don’t ever want to be with out the one person I know I can always count on. Even when I’ve been a bit of a douche bag.

I was taking a walk to a friends house yesterday morning. We were heading down to the beach and as I walked my 20 minute walk I thrashed it out in my head.

WHAT DO I WANT?!?
Should I pick up my metaphorical skirt, kick off the heels and run for the hills?
“Give me a sign!” I was screaming and shouting in my head.

As I was walking, head down – head in turmoil I came to where I needed to cross the road. I was almost hit by a van! It was a plumbers van, on the way to an important job I would assume at the speed he was driving and then I saw it… I saw the sign.

“With Richard you always have peace of mind”

And I was like, wtf? What kind of plumber’s logo is that? And why does he have the same name as my boyfriend anyway and, is this my sign?

It made perfect sense. So I’ve taken it as that. My sign.

I asked, and I got it.

“Baby On Board”

2010-12-03T09:33:00.002+02:00

Last night as we were driving to dinner my boyfriend pointed out that the car in front of us had a “Baby On Board” sticker and I should drive carefully.

I had not even noticed it.

I never notice these signs on cars and this got me thinking about why people even stick them there.

Seriously. Is it for their own peace of mind? Does this make the car invincible?

Tell me: if you’re driving down the road and you see someone in front of you with a “Baby On Board” sticker do you drive more cautiously?

Why do you (if you do)?

What makes “Baby On Board” any different to “Grown Up ON Board”?

The sticker should simply say “Drive Carefully” that’s the golden rule.

But still… like I said earlier – I would not notice it anyway.

The thing is that we should always be driving carefully. Whether there is a baby in the car or not. I know this is one of those strange random posts but it’s on my mind and it kinda irritates me. The stickers. Not babies. Those are quite cute mostly.

I’m sure there is probably a true story behind the creation of these stickers, but I personally don’t think it makes any difference to anything.

Just a thought.

go check it out

2010-11-26T13:16:00.002+02:00

Not just because I say so, but because it will be worth your while too, I do suggest you follow this here link http://www.quitch.blogspot.com/ and peruse the blog of one of my best friends in the entire universe.

Mad.
Crazy.
Random.

You name it; you’ll probably find it over there.

Thank you. That is all.

year end function

2010-11-26T10:16:00.005+02:00

Tonight is our year end function.

I dread these yearly events, I really do.

Firstly, I find the entire thing to be a façade. Everyone is happy and smiling and laughing – you hear things like “oh Lee, you look gorgeous in that dress” or “Mathew! Look at you all dressed up in a suit this evening. Smashing!” Although, the minute backs are turned its more like “omg. How short is Lee’s dress? If it was any shorter it would be a scarf!” or “Matt looks like a small fat penguin in that suit. What was he thinking?”

I just find it all too fake because on Monday morning the usual bitchiness and backstabbing will resume.

So anyway – I will get over it and I will try embrace the festivities. The theme for the evening is smart, jazzy etc – etc… and it is being held at a fancy schmancy Hotel here on Durbans beachfront… should be pretty.

I am wearing :

and...

and...

and...

I just hope I dont end up looking like poor Matt, a small fat penguin in a suit.

a quote

2010-11-24T11:38:00.001+02:00

“Anything that occurs once can never occur again. But, should it happen twice, it will surely happen a third time” ~Paulo Coelho - The Valkyries~

I don’t believe the statement is or was meant to be true, not for one minute, but I did love the book and I do think it’s a real pretty sentence.

If you say it, softly, and slowly, it just rolls off your tongue,
over your lips
into no where.

Sometimes I wish I could softly, slowly just roll off over into no where, but not today...

I have plans for this evening.

help?

2010-11-24T10:00:00.002+02:00

I'm not the crispiest chip in the packet and I'm easily confused.

And I am the worse when it comes to the internet and blogs and settings etc...

Please help.

Is there a way, I'm sure there must be, that I can remove "followers" from my blog?

thank you kindly

a random note

2010-11-23T11:42:00.000+02:00

I was asked this weekend, which of the “weird and wonderfuls” I own and have lying around at home I name my most favourite “worldly” possession. In an ideal world we don’t have favourite worldly possessions or we shouldn’t have, some would say. I’m tempted to agree, but I do have one, so I won’t.

I did not even have to think about it. Not for a second. It would have to be my guitar. Finished and klaar! My “old faithful”

I’ve had a few over the years, but things happen and I’m left with one.

This particular one I bought in a drunken stupor the night my friend B and I decided retail therapy was in order. Her boyfriend had broken up with her; my boyfriend had broken up with me, on the same night nogal. Kak situation. So we headed off to Gateway to do some shopping and drink cocktails at Primi. (we’re talking exes here. not current)

That evening I came home with;
* A guitar
* A T-shirt from lady & the punk
* A giant "I LOVE MAYO" sticker (?) (I dunno why)
* A rainbow badge that says "I can’t even think straight"
* A pair of "Reefs"
* A jacket
* A nipple ring (that I did take out! I mean, how stupid was that?)
* A blood alcohol level equivalent to that that could kill a small human.

I love my guitar so much. It has been there for me through sad times :-(
And happy times :-)

ANGRY TIMES --- Grrr! (I don’t know how to draw an angry face)

When I am (or when I think I am) in love. And when I’m not.

My guitar has helped me interpret good moods, bad moods, moments of “Uh?”And those of “Eh?!”

An “Uh?” or “Eh?!” face looks like this ::d(-_-)b::

And I know that when I’ve have had a lousy day, that when I get home I will pick up my guitar and just play. I’ll add random words to songs and laugh, sometimes I cry. Sometimes I just listen to the sounds I’m creating. I can sit in the dark for hours just strumming along, humming along, now and again, I will even sing along (coz singing aint something I do much of)

I would be very sad if someone took it away from me.

in my family portrait, we look fairly weird!

2010-10-29T10:31:00.006+02:00

Dexter caught a fish out of the pond last night. I was sitting on the patio having a ciggie, sipping on wine, puffing away at a joint: multi-tasking, when I noticed him creeping up toward the water on the stone edging – then doing some sort of acrobatic back flip he went flying into the air ending this trapeze like act with a swift swing of the paw into the water scooping out one times goldfish, who in turn wriggled madly until he was free and did his own mid-air pirouette and landing “PLOMP” – found himself back in the pond.

Now why did South Africa not send them to the Beijing Olympics? They would have done us proud.

I swear. I live in a frikking circus. I do, however, love my life. The quirks and eccentricities. The craziness never ends and “dull moments” exist only when the merlot has run out, and that just never happened… I like to be different. If there is more to do than just walk a straight line, I am happy to do it. I live for the idiocy, the foolishness, the laughs.. there are a few.

For example, have I ever mentioned Onion? My pet giraffe?
Or what about Terence my imaginary goat, who is actually a fluffy pink boa wearing kudu? And moo-moo? My Canadian Moose?

Aah. Bless. Do come in, sit down and flip through my family album.

This is Terrence, my goat.

I’ve had him the longest of all my pets.
Yes, I know he is not a goat in real life, but I don’t judge him.
He is to be who ever he is to be – I always knew he was “musical”
He can be a bit selfish.
Terrence and I share a birthday which makes him a Piscean.
He has a very dry sense of humour, loves telling lame jokes and has a wonderful humming voice (note I said humming, not singing)
His favourite food is KFC.

Moo-moo is the “shy guy” in our family. Meet Moo-moo. The moose.

He does not talk too much (his friends tease him because he has a thick Canadian accent) and likes keeping to himself mostly.
His nick name is moomsie, which he hates!
Moo-moo is a Sagittarian through and through.
His favourite foods are red apples, waffles drenched in maple syrup and chicken schnitzel (but will refuse any sauce over it – just a wedge of lemon will do).
Moo-moo lists watching DVD’s and reading as two of the best things to do to pass time.
His hobbies are waking up late, sighing and playing the occasional game of golf.

This is Onion.

At home we call him “Onions” we say it fast and in a funny accent and it sounds hilarious! I’m hearing it in my head right now and chuckling.
He is an Aquarian.
He loves long walks in the Serengeti, bird watching, the scarf Aunty Original Cin knitted for him and picnics in the park. (I swear, he has not taken that scarf off since the 28th of February 2009!)
Onion was born in Glenwood / Durban at the “Arts Café” General Hospital.
Onion does not care for grazing on leaves rather preferring scones and cream with his afternoon tea.
He loves; Rooibos and Earl Grey, pretending to work and overspending.

There :) Now you have met my pets. My crazy loves. Be nice, say hello - but please. Dont feed the animals.

jingle bells jingle hells!

2010-10-28T10:13:00.001+02:00

It is that time of the year again. Christmas decorations are up in the stores, Bony M (hear me scream – EEEEEK) is being played, on repeat, even in Woolworths while shoppers merrily, well, shop. The time of year when even more “FWD” e-mails are forwarded and there is a false sense of Joy and Merriment oozing out the pores of everyone I meet.

I find this time of the year to be incredibly fake.

Guess who’s not the biggest fan of Christmas. Fear not – I am working on it. I am trying to embrace the festive season – I’m trying to embrace the colorful halls decked with boughs of holly, tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

I shall however not embrace Bony M.

It is also that time of the year when family is asking who is going to be where and at who’s home will we meet and should we be traditional or shall we just book a table at Harvey’s?

The boyfriend has however convinced me to deck our home with boughs of holly this year. And those little twinkling lights and tinsel and there is even a tree. A TREE!! First time I’ve ever set up a Christmas tree in my own home. Ever. I don’t even know where it will go. And anyway, traditionally, when are we supposed to put it up?

The frustration however lies in the fact that even though I have a relatively close family, Christmas, brings along with it, other than the scorching Durban Summer – a most certain family dispute.

I’m not sure what the dispute is yet. I will have to wait for December 25th before I can be sure, but there will be – somewhere along the line.

Then there is the year end function. I hate the year end function! Not only do I have zero clue of what to wear (people, I must be the worst dressed gay man around; I have no time for brands and fancy shoes and crap. Give me board shorts a pair of slops and I’m ready to go) – I can not stand how chipper everyone is, smiling and laughing and pretending to be so happy to spend a few hours in the company of the company we all work at – for the knives will surely come out again tomorrow when we are all back in the office and no one likes anyone again.

So silly.

Plus, I’m irritated because Santa Claus does not really look like this :(
Well, more than irritated, devastated!

giving 'em stick!

2010-10-26T07:15:00.001+02:00

I don’t pay attention.
Really, I don’t.
I’m easily distracted, bored or I just get irritated with myself or a situation then I close off. Not quite shut down, but definitely Stand By Mode. I can not even watch a movie in a cinema because then I want to walk, talk, smoke.
Meetings? Well, I’m always there. For at least 10 minutes before I drift off into la-la land and am back in what I now call SBM.

It drives my boyfriend crazy. He says things like :
“you don’t pay attention! If you are looking for the keys, why not try looking on the key rack?”

And we have conversations like :
“really? Wozzel? You’re asking me where the washing powder is? really!?

“umm. Ja. *scratch forehead* I’m sure I was stoned when you told me?”

“the laundry room! THE LAUNDRY ROOM! Come on, maaaan!”

Daily conversation people. I swear. I love it. I find it very entertaining.

So anyway – I needed to find the stick last night. The garden stick. You know; the kind you push into the ground next to a small tree or shrub that needs some support to stand up straight? Ja – that stick. I had one when we moved into the new place but never needed it. Now I do.

W) should we throw away the stick?
D) yes.
W) but I might need it.
D) then don’t throw it away.
W) but what will I do with it?
D) put it away until you need it!?!? (one can hear the frustration in his voice now)
W) but where?
D) THE STORE ROOM WOZZEL! Fuck! We have a store room. Don’t you ever pay attention?
W) well. No. not really.

And that was how that conversation continued for 15 minutes longer.

And so, before I sent the man a frantic text message disturbing him at work – asking him where the stick is I decided I would think about. I would use my common sense.

I would look for the stick.
I would find that stick!

My search was relentless. I looked in the store room. No stick. The laundry. No stick. The loft. The lounge. The garden. NO FRIKKING STICK!

And so, I sent the desperate message “do you know where the garden stick is?” and immediately got a reply.

“FML. You never pay attention! We threw the fucking stick away!”

I never win.

Sigh.

3 years

2010-10-25T08:41:00.001+02:00

Today marks 3 years that I’ve been working here where I work. The reason this sticks out for me is that it also marks 3 years of change.

One week back (3 years ago) I had just returned from 3 months in Cape Town. My little sabbatical. My then boyfriend (of 2.5 years) and I had just broken up. My uncle passed away a week later and then, after applying for a Visa to go to the UK for a bit – I was told that it was declined.

Nothing made sense. I lived on neat Vodka and only ate when people forced me. It was an ugly – ugly time and I was completely lost. I hated life. I hated my ex, I hated that my uncle was dead and I hated everyone that worked at the Embassy that declined my Visa.

I think, that at that time, I hated myself too.

It was my grandmother, I believe, who saved my life. I say this with much conviction because had she not stepped in with advice, I would surely have ended up in a ditch somewhere.

She suggested that I go away. She suggested that since I had all this money saved to go to London and that upon returning I would have had to look for new work, that I should just get away. “Go stay by Conrad in Cape Town for a bit, go clear your head. go rest, and try again when you get back.”

And so that is what I did. I packed up everything and put it in storage. I booked my flights and off I went to Cape Town.

Those 3 months were possibly the best 3 months of my life. I did nothing but rest and read. Long walks on the beach, sleepy afternoons under the trees in the park.

Bliss.

There was no original time line. I had no plans. I was in no rush. I was simply wasting time. One morning I woke up and said to my friend that I needed to go back home. The time felt right and I was leaving the next day.

And so I did. The Universe was kind and gentle and I got lucky. The day I landed back in Durban I was invited to a job interview. That same day I arrived I went straight through for the interview and a few days later; 25 October 2007 I started working here. A month later I fetched all my stuff out of storage, moved into a cute little flat and started living my life.

So much has changed. So much has happened. I’ve learnt, I’ve grown and I’m happy.

And, I met an amazing man – never wanted to believe it could happen again.

Time, it’s a funny thing and we can never know what it will bring with it. I don’t know what will happen in the next 3 years – but I know what happened in the last 3 years and remembering this will help me, will guide me into the next.

i'm doing it my way

2010-10-22T10:40:00.000+02:00

"Everyone keeps telling me to look at the big picture, but what they don't understand is that I'm looking at an entirely different painting"

why i've been quiet, and a pic of my cat :)

2010-10-21T14:32:00.003+02:00

“you could have had a stroke!”

That was what the Doctor said to me last Monday when I made an appearance in his office after a few dizzy spells and falls. At 29 years of age I have the blood pressure of an 80 year old man.

Thanks insane life style, a pack and a half of smokes a day and way too much red wine.

I guess.

So then I find out that my mom, my aunt and my gran all suffer with really high blood pressure, so some of it is in the family.

I was prescribed medication and went on a tizz. I was so high I swear I spoke to Jesus. By Friday night I had fallen 8 times. Nice.

I fell up stairs,
down stairs – in the lounge, in the garden – I fell while just standing. DOOF! My legs would just give away.

So I was taken off the medication. I had to go back to the Doctor yesterday and my blood pressure was at its highest – new medication was prescribed and voila! – I feel like a new man.

Seriously people. Who knew? Not I – that is for sure. The last 6 months have been terrible for me. Often feeling ill, dizzy spells and falls and no one ever thought it might be something as simple and common (but scarily dangerous) like BP.

I’ve also developed a bad case of what I call “x-box thumb syndrome” – maybe it’s already a world wide term used by everyone – I don’t know – I don’t see how it cant, but dammit my thumbs are sore from all the x-box I’ve been playing.

On the plus side I’m the champion of the ski slopes :)

Ooh. Happy Phuza Thursday!

and another picture of Dexter... haha. My mother says I'm mad. I love this cat crazy!

spring is here :)

2010-10-08T11:12:00.001+02:00

Twinkle twinkle oh look its Spring!

My oh my what a wonderful thing (iiiing)

You smell like roses, petunias and cat…

Cat?

Dammit Dexter! SCAT!

*ahem*

Twinkle twinkle why hi there Spring.

It is so lovely to see you again!

You’ve been gone for way to long,

And so that is why I’m singing this song (oooong)

Welcome back Spring!!!

I might just need a really long holiday.
I’m not mad.
I promise.
That is open to interpretation.

all the flowers are blooming and grass is green :) i love, love love it.

69

2010-10-08T10:07:00.001+02:00

oooh. I just noticed my followers have gone up to 69.

my fave number of all ;)

upside down

2010-10-07T10:55:00.002+02:00

there is no other way for me to explain how i'm feeling today.

Today is :

2010-10-05T10:12:00.000+02:00

Dexter’s first day at home all alone. That’s because my boyfriend got a job! Yay! Ok, so it is only a temporary project, and there are really crappy shifts involved – but after 3 months of being unemployed he really needs this.

As mentioned, I’m not jumping with joy at the arbitery shifts he will have to work – coz like that means I am home alone a lot of evenings, but I’m glad for him. He needs to get out of the house, away from me and the cat and the trained conversation that he has been surrounded by. Now at least he will meet a few new people, do something more than wash laundry and dishes while having his toes attacked by an adventurous kitten and we get a little bit of space.

I’ve always believe that a little space can go a long way – and I will keep busy. I will put in a few more hours of work, when I feel like it. I will visit friends and they will visit me.

I’m just nervous about getting home tonight and seeing the horror that has possibly (probably) unfolded with one little kitty at home running amok!

of new beginnings... and getting started

2010-09-30T09:02:00.000+02:00

I like living where I live. The area I live in and the home I live in. I’ve stayed put in the same area for close to 10 years – it’s just where I like to be and although there was a 2 year gap when I lived on the golf estate (yuck) I ended up going “back to my hood”

I’m a city boy – but don’t like living in the city. I’m on the outskirts of the city. The hem of the skirt – which means I’m close to everything. 5 minutes from the beach, 2 minutes from the city centre.

I live very close to Florida Road – which is well known for all the trendy cafés and restaurants lining the street. Boutique hotels and designer clothing wear, antique shops and artsy fartsy deco shoppes brighten the place.

The thing with city living is that you will end up living in a small place. The place we moved into at the beginning of the month is a loft apartment. It is absolutely frikking gorgeous if I may say so myself and I am very happy there. We were lucky though – because we have a courtyard garden. A nice patio leads out of the living room into a paved courtyard with a nice big garden bed along the side and back. Very cool. Very lucky. Wozzie gets to play in the mud and plant things and watch them grow.

So now I’m learning – which is always fun, how to make the best of the space I have.

So far I’ve cleaned up and bought a small water feature which I’ve put in the corner next to the patio. I’ve put a few plants around it that I’m hoping will fill up the space a bit once they are all a bit more established – and there are 4 little fishies swimming around – much to Dexter’s amusement. I will post more pics as I go along and everything comes together.

of Dexter... and I wont take up too much of your time

2010-09-29T08:31:00.001+02:00

I’ve mentioned the excitement of being the daddy of a little kitty cat. My very first pet that is not shared with a household. I am responsible for the little boys life. I have to feed him, make sure he has water. A warm comfy place to sleep and a happy home to live in.

Check. Check. Check.

Since being a new parent (the boyfriend moans that I treat Dexter like a human) I’ve loved being that person Dexter is so excited to see when I get home. When I’m on the porch having a ciggie I watch as he runs and jumps around in the garden, investigating every nook and cranny.

Now – the thing about cats, as we all know, is that they all have their own personality and are generally very – very independent. And this has began to worry me.

I’m already dreading the day he takes his first solo trip over the wall. Will I run after him? What will I do if he is gone for 2 or 3 hours? Send out a search party? Will I fret? You bet! Will I stay up all night until he comes back home – most probably. Will my boyfriend say something like “wozzie babe, relax yourself please before I smack you upside the head and just leave him to be”

He already has!

I should have got a dog. They stay home. they don’t jump walls and wander – while I sit at home and wonder.

I’ve realized that I don’t own a cat. I’m owned by a cat.

He really is just too cute though and I can not get over it :) funny though – I go spend a small fortune on play things for him and the boyfriend comes along and throws an empty toilet roll on the floor and that becomes the bomb – he wont play with anything else.

a thought, i thought.

2010-09-27T09:14:00.002+02:00

I was in Amanzimtoti yesterday. I’m not a fan of Amanzimtoti to be quite honest with you – I’ve always thought it a bit “dodgy” – but that is not what this post is about – in fact, it does not really have anything to do with Amanzimtoti. I’m just saying because that’s where it happened. That’s where I thought my thought – it could have been anywhere.

While sitting on the sun deck at “The Reef Pub & Grill” (read: very dodgy spot) I noticed a homeless man walking down the street with his blanket.

The sun has tanned him browner than he should be. He does not look like he has bathed in months. Hair so matted and tangled I shudder to think what could possibly be growing in there. I looked over at my boyfriend and said

“See that man. He has nothing. He walks this street up and down, begging for a R2 here and there for bread, carrying nothing but his blanket. I suppose he has no destination in mind right either, he is just walking and when he stops walking he will be wherever it is that he wants to be”

I joked that all he did have was fleas.

And then I thought about how often we read stories of the rich and famous or even just the ordinary man and woman who have good jobs. Maybe loving partners and children. People who have homes and cars and bills to pay. A bed to sleep in, a kitchen to cook in. And there are these people out there – with all this stuff, who are so very depressed and not happy with their hand in life, who commit suicide.

And so I ask – when was the last time you heard of a homeless person found hanging in a tree in the park? A homeless person found after slitting her wrists with a broken beer bottle found lying in a gutter somewhere?

These are people with nothing. No where to go. No one to love, no one to love them back. It rains, they are wet. If it’s cold they wrap themselves up in filthy blankets dug up out of trash cans or just dirty because they have not been washed in a couple of months.

When it’s a really crazy hot day outside, they need to find a shady tree to sit under. I go inside and turn on the aircon.

Just makes me think we take way too much for granted. Maybe they are not the ones who are mad. Maybe, just maybe the old hobo talking to himself in the rain under the bus stop has “The Secret”

He smiles more often than that Aunty covered in gold and smelling like Red Door pushing her trolley through Woolworths does.

baby bop

2010-09-23T11:14:00.003+02:00

Seems I’m caught in the middle of a baby boom.
Babies are being born and conceived all the time.
I’m very happy for all these friends and family members of mine and they are all wonderful people. Some are already parents, some are first time parents and I take my hat off to all of them. Must be the toughest job on earth. I know I don’t have the energy or desire to take on that position.

All these babies around me don’t make me broody. I think it is great that some people want to be parents; I’m just not a parent. I’m a good uncle – that is how I would like to keep it.

My friend Ella who has a 5 year old son is also pregnant. This is exciting news because her and her husband have been trying for some time to have a second baby and suffered a miscarriage earlier this year. She is now 4 months in to her pregnancy and we are quite chuffed.

When visiting at her home the other day I asked her son if he was excited about the baby.

“No” was his response.

“No? Why not? It’s exciting to be getting a new baby brother or sister” I said.

“No” he said again “I don’t want a baby brother and I don’t want a baby sister. I want a baby dinosaur”

And he is serious. That is all he wants mommy to have. A baby dinosaur.

Kids. They really do say the strangest things…

Oh, and good luck with pushing out a baby dino Ella.

One more random piece of information. Tomorrow is Heritage day this side of the world. Public Holiday. Yay. LOOONG weekend. So exciting. See you lot on the other side of Sunday!

i win

2010-09-22T08:16:00.000+02:00

We went to a family gathering last night. There was no special occasion – nothing to celebrate, just a spontaneous get together.

How it works in my family is that we all prepare a plate of eats – get together and spend time catching up and talking shit really.

Off I went to the local Spar to buy some ingredients for quiche. I always make quiche. It’s simple and quick to make.

While inspecting cheese last night I noticed rather yummy looking legs attached to a rather yummy looking ass standing quite near me from the corner of my eye. I was careful not to be caught staring, I did not want my boyfriend to see me checking out some other dudes ass… I decided to take a quick peek, give this dude a twice over and walk away – as I turned to look at him he turned to look at me – and our eyes locked in a stare.

It was my boyfriend! I had been checking out my very own boyfriend!!! I was finished. I thought it was quite funny – and I felt better about the entire situation.

Finally we arrived at my mother’s house – quiche in hand, and – mumsy darling had also made quiche.

“Your moms quiche looks much nicer than yours does” the boyfriend said.

“Take that back” I said.

Both he and my mom laughed.

An hour later after we had all helped ourselves to some eats and sat down my boyfriend announced with a mouth full of quiche “hmm, yum, this quiche is awesome – better than yours babe”

As I looked over at him, ready to smack him upside the head with a lamp close by I realized he was eating MY quiche… hehe, thinking it was my mothers.

So I win.

Waaah!

Dexter

2010-09-20T09:03:00.002+02:00

Guess what we got this weekend?

A kitty cat :)

A teeny tiny little kitty cat.

We call him Dexter.

I’ve never had a cat. Nor has the boyfriend. And now we do. Proud parents we are.

BUT IF YOU EVER hear of me creating a facebook profile for him, or refering to him as my son - shoot me. On the spot. I shant be one of those people...

maybe I will.

The pic is not too clear, but he is white with ginger ears. Very playful and inquisitive. I’m already head over heels for the little critter.

10 000 fireflies

2010-09-17T09:09:00.002+02:00

When I’m not working, or stoned, or sleeping I’m spinning fire. I don’t even know how I got involved with Poi, but I did, and I love it. I find spinning one of the most relaxing things to do.

Here are some pics of me spinning fire.

the latest butterflies

2010-09-16T09:37:00.002+02:00

Last post about butterflies...
Just thought I would share the latest edition.
I'm in an orange and yellow phase at the moment and these are now in the living room.

flutter by butterfly

2010-09-15T15:19:00.003+02:00

I have a strange fascination with Butterflies. I just think they are beautiful. When I was in primary school I learnt how to make paper butterflies.

Soon there were butterflies everywhere. My bedroom walls were covered with colorful paper butterflies and I soon started making them for friends and family. Anyone who asked really.

Today I can tell you that my paper butterflies can be found in the USA at a distant families home. In Canada where a close friend of mine lives. In the UK they are dotted across at family homes, friends and acquaintances. They have made their way to Johannesburg to friends. They can be found in Cape Town – Bethlehem, Kroonstad, Nelspruit – they are all over! And then of course, in each and every home I’ve ever lived I’ve always folded new butterflies to match my new mood – my new home.

I sent some to a blogger friend up in Johannesburg some time back, a gifted blogger, author, mother – friend… I chose paper from magazines with words on, coz she be a lover of words you know – and this is the e-mailed response I got.

"I don't know what to say, I am moved and flattered and blown away. They are so beautiful and I will never get tired of 'reading' each and every one of them. They look as though you know me, as if you climbed into my life and made my stories into the butterflies.
I'm going to put them in a box-frame and hang it beside my bed forever and ever.
I love you so much !!!!!!!!
Thank you Wozzlet, you made my heart swell so that it felt it would jump out of my chest and do Britney dances all over my kitchen table.

“Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies.”

(I bloody HEART that quote)

:)

And these are the butterflies I sent her.

I love that e-mail so so so much. It made me smile, from the inside out :)

of cheese burgers and beer... and how they met

2010-09-15T10:07:00.003+02:00

I am sorry if I've written about this before. I do not remember, and anyway, this is my blog and I'm allowed to write about what ever the heckles I want to write about.

Pretty cool eh?

And yes, he may be brought up in blog posts and conversation on a regular basis, but I dont care :)

I was remembering how the boyfriend and I met last night. Skipping merrily down memory lane. We had a good chuckle.

We met quite by accident on line. Not on a dating site or hook up site or blog. I had responded to an add for tickets that were not wanted to a concert (that clearly I wanted). I met the guy to collect them and found I could not stop thinking about his Big Blue eyes. Apparently he could not stop thinking about my Big Green eyes either. And that was that.

A few days later I received an e-mail asking if I had enjoyed the concert? Just a simple e-mail. Of course I replied saying that I had enjoyed it etc, etc. A reply came a few minutes later and an hour later we had exchanged 26 e-mails. I learnt he was new in Durban, had just returned from New Zealand where he had lived with some family for a year and that he had only a handful of friends here.

“I know a really cool spot on the beachfront that does the best burgers around and the beer is cheap. I want to meet new people here and make new friends, so if you ever have time we should hang out. What do you think?” he asked as the e-mail conversation was winding up. “sounds good to me” I said. “Nothing wrong with making friends” and so it was arranged that we were to meet that very evening…

...and I just knew it was a date.

Once home I got ready and called a cab. It was to be an early evening. It was a school night you know, and then, after calling the cab 3 times because they were now running 20 minutes over the pick up time I ran from my apartment down to the main road where I knew there were usually always cabs waiting.

That evening there were none. I called to let him know that I would be running late, and after finally finding a cab I hysterically cried “you had better drive fast, I am late!”

The cab driver was a little old African lady. “oh” she said smiling, “you are going on a date? a first date?” and I said “yes. I am” Then she started giving me advice. “Just remember to be yourself. Smile a lot and always look interested, unless it is a bad date, then just walk out. You never know – this could be the one”

True story people.

She even gave me her cell phone number and asked that I please update her to how the date went. I never did :( Felt guilty for some reason. It was almost like she knew.

I arrived there 30 minutes late. As I walked toward the table he recognized me and stood up to meet and greet me. I swam people, I swam. I was skinny dipping in those Blue eyes, swimming - drowning - but had to remain cool – calm – collected. When in reality all I wanted to do was pounce him right there and then and do unspeakables.

We chatted a lot. We ate cheese burgers and drank ice-cold beer. We laughed and smiled. I stared. He stared. We stared.

After dinner we went over to the Durban Fun Fair, which pales in comparison to most of them here in SA and around the world. It is fun none the less and we enjoyed some time in the bumper cars (I had to get my bang on somehow) and then closed the evening with a ride on the cable cars. And let me tell you now that I am a sissy when it comes to heights but how could I not go?

The evening ended with a handshake. I knew – I knew that something was there. I’m not saying love at first sight. I am not saying I saw our future flash before my eyes but I knew that something was brewing there in that handshake.

We met again the next day. I bunked work so we could spend the day on the beach together, and we have spent every day together since then. It has only been a year and a half, but hey, this has been the most exciting year and a half ever.

He made me wait. Wait two weeks before we kissed. Or was that three? I can not even remember, but I do remember that it was four weeks after meeting and seeing each other daily that… well… hehe, you know. We got all funky in the bedroom. And lounge. And kitchen. And bathroom. And elevator.

Good times I tell you. Good times.

And I never want the good times to end.

confucius says - wtf?

2010-09-14T09:57:00.002+02:00

We had dinner with a friend last night. Let’s call him Richard. Richards a nice name I think. Richard brought over his new girlfriend, we will call her Sally. I don’t know why.

Sally is sweet. Quite pretty and very pleasant, but Sally is also very stupid.

Or in denial.
Or could that all be the same thing?

Or maybe I’m wrong.

You see – Richard, 32 – is gay. He has been for as long as I’ve known him, and that’s a long time. He has lived openly, with a partner (who is now his ex) and now he has gone and confused the issue by declaring his undying love for Silly Sally – WHO BY THE WAY is well aware of his past. And now he is straight?

I’m willing to admit that I could be wrong on this, but I gotta ask it anyway: how the hell did he switch the gayness off?

I wrote about something similar earlier this year. Remember the gay couple in Malawi? Those who were being persecuted because they wanted to get married? Then two weeks later after creating a hoo-haa all over the world – they split up and the one dude pops his cherry and asks a woman to marry him and now they are in love and he is straight!

HALLELUJIA!!

It’s a fucking miracle.

Sis, now I’m swearing.

I remember when I was a kid going through my own thoughts and trying to figure out who I was, what I was and where I would end up.

“Am I gay, am I straight, yes I’m gay, no I’m not, I must be, I can’t be, OH God make me straight”

Really. True story. One told by many a gay person who was scared and confused – I prayed and I begged that the higher powers that be just take me out of my misery and make me straight because lets be honest, it’s not the easiest thing. Now it might be a lot easier, now I’ve learnt to accept myself and people have learnt the same. What I’m trying to say is that life would have been a lot easier for me if I had been straight. Finish school. Go study. Meet a pretty little girl and live in a pretty little house in a pretty little suburb and have lots of pretty little children.

It’s what everyone else in my bloody family did.

Only – I’m not straight. And I can not try appease the situation and try keep family and friends happy by pretending to be either, because the way I see it I could have done what was expected and I would have woken up one day, 40 and bald, with my lovely pretty wife sleeping next to me, the kids making breakfast and being left with having to face them and say –

“daddy’s poof, sorry for fucking up your life kidos or making it confusing, and darling wife, sorry for wasting 20 years of your life, anyway, I must run, I’m meeting Harold and his dog Toby for a walk in the park and a croissant, will be back later to fetch my things. Ok, toodles”

- and in doing so would have turned the world of innocent people up-side-down and THAT is definitely no bueno.

It has happened. Yes.
I know a man who is openly gay, but was married for many years.
He has children, who are ok with it.
They accept and understand the situation and all is well.
And the reason that this happened, I think, is that back then when he was my age it was not as easy to be an out gay person.
So conform was what was done.

We however have the choices today, the freedom, the support and respect from our peers today. We can make informed decisions so as not to make that same mistake that played out so many times in “The History of The Gay” (my blog, I get to make up titles)

Know what I mean? And I know I said choice, and this is these men’s own choices, but are they thinking this through properly?

Anyhoo – I’m now just rambling and I need to round this up. As much as I am very fond of Richard, I think he is playing a silly and seriously dangerous game. I do not believe that the relationship will last very long, and of course I want him to be happy and who he is and who he is with is no business of mine – I just don’t think its right.

What do you think about this? Seriously. I wanna know. Do you think that after being openly gay and accepting this fact for all your adult life you can then just one day decide to be straight?

I don’t.
I tried.
And now I’ve accepted, and now I’m happy.

of magic... and that is all

2010-09-13T11:05:00.001+02:00

I woke up on Monday morning 6th September with the birds. As usual. I went down stairs, made a cup of coffee and grabbed my ciggies. Hooked up the hammock and rocked gently, to and fro – sipping my extra strong, black coffee and trying to blow rings of smoke. A talent I have never mastered in all my years (cough cough) of smoking. I started thinking to myself, which is something I often do when I’m by myself – about nothing at all. I was just… just. I looked around the garden, through the sliding doors into the living room and my eyes traced the embellished ballistrading leading upstairs to the loft where I knew my boyfriend was sleeping, and would still be for at least 3 more hours (remember I was up early, super early). Suddenly I felt very – very depressed, perhaps more frightened. Scared. Nervous. Sad.

All of a smelly sardine I was questioning the move. The next chapter of our lives – the one that sees the boyfriends moving out of the communal house into their own space. Suddenly it dawned on me that nothing was quite the same anymore. That even though we have lived together for over a year – this was different. It’s just you and me baby, just you and me.

Please note : You’re reading the blog of a man who has always lived alone. Always maintained independence, in the totality of the word and was now having to realize that things change, as they do. And the change had come.

I will admit that I was quite baffled by this uneasy feeling. Why now? I had been so very sure that this was what I wanted. I was so excited about this move. Why now was I feeling like this? I tried to shake off the feeling of uncertainty – but it would not budge, and so I had a glass of wine and a joint for breakfast at 05:00am while I rocked gently, to and fro in my hammock. This helped. For an hour, because when the world cleared up in my gaze, the game resumed and I was left there, in the hammock with the same thoughts running through my mind.

This continued for the rest of the day – and I never left home. I sat there, asking myself “why – why you thinking like this guy? What is going on?” and for once I had nothing to say. The king of the comment was stuck. And the king of comment struggled with these thoughts running through his head right up until Tuesday evening.

The boyfriend noticed I was not quite the same. I was quiet. I seemed moody. He seemed to pick up on my vibe, but he let me be, reminding me he was there and reassuring me of his love. Which helped a whole lot I promise because the next morning – as I woke up, with the birds as always – crept down stairs and made my coffee, sat on the patio sipping away and again trying (failing) to blow smoke rings, I started seeing the world through new eyes. I started feeling excited again. I realized that after one year of living together in a communal environment – and now living just the two of us was a good thing. Not a bad thing. I have nothing to fear.

The magic is still there, and maybe even more a little more powerful.

The rest of the week I had off was wonderful. We did not do very much as at the moment we are not able to spend money. With only me working, and the initial cost of our move, which was also all on my shoulders we have to be careful this month. We did however spend a lot of time on the beach and I have the tan to prove it. The time off, with the boyfriend at home too, was excellent for us. Being “forced” to spend so much time together and at home we spent a lot more time talking. Which I realized is something we have not really had much of. We also spent A LOT of time intimately, which was also something we had not done much of over the last few weeks and that was when it dawned on me just how pathetic stress can be to a person.

With my loves retrenchment, me working like a mad ogre (I’ve even been called megalomaniac…eek) and then the move, I forgot – for a moment (two days) that this was why I had been feeling so icky. It was quite normal that after a few months of stress and worry – that the one day I sit down to enjoy time off, it all caught up with me. And I only then began to process the enormity of it all.

I’m pleased to announce that I’ve returned to work feeling great. Positive. Energized. Rested, relaxed and very happy. I’ve learnt that tough times maketh a person and that good times and bad times come and go and that everything we go through is a lesson. That the tougher, more worrying times remind you of where you have been and where you can get to and how to get there.

And most importantly I learnt that I am so ridiculously and securely in love with someone who is so ridiculously and securely in love with me.

I did not chase after goats or toads.
I did not need to dig up any sand or turn any stones.
I did not need to wish on a star or the moon to find any magic…

It was there. Like it always is. In front of my eyes. It was in my bloody living room. In the kitchen – up the stairs, in the garden – there is even some magic in the hammock… It is everywhere

We need to stop forgetting this.

I need to stop forgetting this.

of time out... that i'm getting!

2010-09-03T10:38:00.003+02:00

So I was meant to take leave in July. Just one week was all I asked for. I was granted the time off work, but then, 3 days before I was due to sit at home doing NOTHING I was asked if I would assist with a project at work. The truth is that the only reason I accepted the project was because I was offered money to do it. haha, and with my boyfriend being all retrenched and shyte, I wanted the security of what could almost have been seen as a second salary. It pretty much was a second salary.

So the project was given a two month time line - which I managed to complete with a week to spare, and now that it's all done and dusted, my leave has been reinstated.

Yay!

So I'm on a mini vacation. Starting this afternoon I will not be coming anywhere near this office untill the 13th September.

please expect nothing from Wozzel.blogspot during this period.

You can rest assured that I will be at home, relaxing. Drinking wine for breakfast - just because I can - swinging lazily in the hammock in the garden, maybe frolicking in the waves on the beach, and maybe - maybe I will bake.

Who knows, who cares - I really dont. I just need the time out. The silence. The rest.

The last time I took leave, I did it properly. That was last year, two weeks, over my birthday. A friend and I went on a crazy ass road trip through South Africa and it was awesomness personified... In the name of random and absence I'm going to re-post what I had written for another blog after the trip... coz I can.

pssst…

hello? Are you there?

Oi,
shhhh… hehehe,

quiet now…shhh, I want to tell you something….

come here quickly – and pay attention…

did you hear that I found magic?

………..Follow me.. I’ll tell you more.

If ever I’ve seen magic, I’ve seen it today… perhaps it’s where fairy’s play – or where dolphins surf the waves of a turquoise ocean? And I know I will see magic again tomorrow. Whisper – whisper – run and JUMP it’s magic see?

If you were to ask me to chose which of the many places we saw during our 15 day road trip, was my favourite, I would throw myself on the floor, kick and scream, I would throw a fit, putting any 5 year old to shame because choosing would be near impossible. If you were to say, I don’t know, push a little harder, I would have to go with Coffee Bay…. So, where do we begin? ooh, a list. I like lists. This is the list of the places we went to.

The list of places we went to

Ixopo
Lusikisiki
Coffee Bay
Hogs Back
Cape St Francis
Sedgefiled
Jeffrey’s Bay
East London
Lusikisiki

We started the trip off in Ixopo where we went to a Buddhist retreat for a Djembe Drumming weekend. Walking through the grounds of the retreat it’s very easy to believe that you are in a different place al together. A magical place maybe? Where silence really is golden. Where meditation, walks through rough stoned Labyrinths and energies are just an every day way of living.

Headed off to Lusikisiki early that Sunday morning, to go visit my mum who runs a lodge out there. We road horses. We sat on the beach. We drank wine. We laughed. We joked. The funniest was when I crept up behind kims horse, gave him a slap on the hind leg and watched him dart off down the beach… hehehe… ok, so I was the only one who thought that was funny.

There was much road. We’ve been up hills, down hills, over mountains, across bridges, over rivers. Up one hill and guess what was there? I’ll tell you. Nothing but more road. And then we ended up in Coffee Bay. Beautiful Coffee Bay. Watching the sunrise the first morning I suddenly realised that we were not a movie set! We really were slap in the middle of a little bay. The kind of amazing magic some people only ever do see in a movie (no man, sies, go on a holiday, I suggest the Eastern Cape). Only, it really is that much more beautiful and is that much more magical. Only, I felt Coffee Bay was missing a Pirate Ship. Every good “Bay” has to have a Pirate ship!

And I found a stone under a tree. I turned it over. A big frog jumped forward. I jumped back. He said “Croak!” and I said “Eeek!” and then I ran away “you can’t catch me frog! I’m looking for magic see!” and goats laughed at me. Perhaps they think I’m mad.

And we went to so many places. A place called “away with the fairies” in Hogs back which really was beautiful, just so very over grown. I went for a bit of a hike and was back within 20 minutes, red as a beet and half dead simply because the trail was so over grown that I never knew where I was and got a bit lost. So gave up. And I can keep up with the best of them when it comes to walking and running.

Our trip took us through to Cape St Francis. The next day I woke up and I was 28! And it did not ever hurt a bit! and I heard Whisper – whisper – run and JUMP it’s magic see?
And I got lots of messages and calls. And some of those were such magic too! Especially the most magical of them all. So after dealing with the fact that I was now 28 – the wrong side of 25, but the better side of 30, and having made sure I was still all in tact and after checking my blood pressure and cholesterol levels (must be more mature and responsible now) we headed off to Knysna.

WHAT HAPPENED TO KNYSNA? I did not find any magic there. I was devastated. From hippie to yuppie? No. sies. You can keep Knysna. That is all.

And then we met JK for dinner. And it was awesome. What a nice guy! We said things like “Hello, how do you do” and other nice things like “what a lovely home you have” and then JK opened some wine and it sounded like this - “PLOMP” and that was magic too! And then, after a few wines, we were laughing out our noses. It’s magic see!!

I was looking for magic. I knew I would find it somewhere, and up till then, I was starting to realize that there is – quite simply… magic everywhere… if you will only notice it… ssshhhhh – whisper – come… follow me

Things on my mind this week

All the work I need to catch up on.
Cape Town – will I make it?
Britney. Am I over Britney Spears? Or do I just need space?
I’m rested. I’m somewhat revived. I’m still wondering what’s next with work though. Where is life taking me next? I’m not convinced this is it. There is more.
My birthday party this weekend. Yes. I’m having another one coz my other friends missed me. Cool eh?
Crème Soda kisses :-)
Freedom. I hear it calling. Can anyone else hear it?
Did any of the first European Settlers kick themselves in the arses after seeing the Eastern Cape and already having had given KZN the title of holding “The valley of a thousand hills” silly fools!

I have a question for anyone living in Jeffrey’s Bay.

Why do you live in Jeffrey’s Bay?

Sorry, I do not mean to disrespect your home. And I’m sure that if you were to poke you finger into your left eye, tilt your head to the right and squint… then maybe it does start looking better. Ok – I’m being mean, so I will stop. I have nothing more to say about J-Bay.

East London really surprised me. It was the first time I had ever been there. And I really liked it. I could live there. Sitting on the deck at the back packers we stayed at, drinking coffee, watching the sun come up at 06:30am – I could totally see myself running along the beach, surfboard under my arm and jumping into the ocean to join the dolphins for a swim. Only – I can’t surf. So I would need to learn first. East London ended up being the place we stayed at the longest. Both kim and I fell in love with the vibe, the people, the sun and beaches. We played pool, we drank beer. We had an awesome time! Met some very interesting people, and bumped into one guy we had met in Coffee Bay and another someone we had met in Hogs Back. This got me interested in the lives of back packers… they are like a whole different sub culture of people. An entire society most of us know nothing about… so I decided to interview one… only I lost the piece of paper I wrote everything on. So I can’t blog it. sucky build up eh?

Before we knew it, it was time to hit the road again. Off we went, back to Lusikisiki, just to get some rest the last 2 days of the holiday.

And then we headed off home. I got home to find all my plants were still alive. I was so worried because I had never arranged for anyone to look after them, but they were FINE and I was happy and it was nice to be home. I did all the mature responsible things like unpack my bags and do a load of laundry (I kid you not, I flooded the bloody passage way again… that poor carpet) and drank a glass of wine and I reflected…

shhhh…

Whisper – whisper

did I tell you that I found magic?

Songs in my head this week

I need a hero – Bonnie Tyler (best road trip song ever.. kim and I were literally dancing in the car!)
Gotta be somebody – Nickle Back (awesome song)
Here you come again – Dolly Parton
Baa baa black sheep – just about any nursery school.
So what! – Pink

So I was sitting at home.
And I realized.

Oooh. I found magic. I found magic everywhere.

PEOPLE… do yourselves a favor! GO ON HOLIDAY. Go see our beautiful country. GO SEE IT IMMEDIATELY!!! Because if you don’t.. you’re missing out on something amazing. And it’s right here – right here!! In your back yard.

The magic?

haha, I had lost the magic…far less than that which was at stake at the time, and I realized.

I have changed.
I am magic.
I found it.
In me.

And this is what I want to share with you too… if you look closely enough, just look deep inside. Take 1 minute of your life and just LISTEN to me… because if you do, you’ll see -

there is magic in you too.

Bye Bye - See you all soon!!!

twilight - haha - I just can't help it

2010-09-02T10:00:00.001+02:00

an ode to myself

2010-09-01T08:35:00.002+02:00

I have decided to leave,
On a journey –
Of imaginary dreams,
A voyage of self discovery.
I will leave,
To become the artist –
The poet –
That which has been forgotten.
Isolation – a spirited renewal,
Solitude – an illusion of the heart.

I have decided to go,
As far as the horizon leads.
To rediscover –
The centre stone of my aura,
The very essence of my soul.
To find that place –
Where peace exists,
Only in silence.
Remembering the innocence,
Gathering the lost dreams of children.

© Wozzel (14/03/1997)

of moving... and how I'm glad it's almost over

2010-08-30T09:45:00.000+02:00

I’m exhausted. As mentioned previously, I’m moving home. With my boyfriend being a househusband he has taken upon himself most of the work. We had the keys to our new rental a month ago already, which has been a massive help. The walls have all been scrubbed from top to bottom. The courtyard is clean. The garden beds neatened and I’ve already planted. Shelves have been painted, screws tightened – a few odds and ends repaired here and there. My boyfriend, I tell you, has WOW’ed me! I never knew the handyman he is! I’ve seen him fix a leaking toilet – repair the old kitchen sink plumbing – remove and repair the paneled sliding doors (the joys of renting I guess).

The place is looking amazing.

We were there Saturday and Sunday morning 7:00am untill late – moving boxes and dusting and packing. The move however is not over. Today the furniture is being moved. I have to be at work – well, I had to be. I came in and I batted my eye lashes and voila – the boss lady says I can leave at 12:00 – the movers arrive at 13:00 – so that gives me time to get home! I’m so excited. I just feel that my boy has done so so much already I really want to be there to help with the last of the move. Even though I’ve hired someone to do it for me and they will do all the carrying it is still stressful and I will feel better being there to help where I can.

Plus, I get to have a glass of wine on a Monday afternoon :)

So wish me luck, and hopefully the madness all comes to an end by this afternoon. And then we can break the new bedroom in ;)

Me, myself and I - a random note

2010-08-27T09:23:00.001+02:00

I am: hung-over

I have: the wine flu

I know: it is of my own doing

I think: wine is the devils drink

I don’t think: I am going to make it through this day

I want: an ice cold beer. No, it’s not too early

I have: a double espresso and a cookie

I like: double espresso’s and cookies

I hate: semi-sweet white wine. it is soooo 80’s

I dream: a million dreams a night

I fear: that I’m ging to be bald before 32. and the hair that is left will be all grey :(

I am annoyed: with my boyfriend

I crave: time out. leave. Vacation. More wine.

I usually: have chicken rolls for lunch

I search: for my keys every single morning.

I hide: wine from my boyfriend

I wonder: if he knows?

I know: that he does!

I just can’t help: it.

I regret: a few things.

I love: Darryl

I can’t live without: my guitar.

I try to: cook new things. Mostly unsuccessfully.

I enjoy: work most days.

I don’t care: that she is his best friend. She is not welcome in my home.

I always: win.

I never want to: go to Jeffery’s bay again. EVER.

I rely on: me, myself and I – only. A lesson well learnt.

I believe: that magic exists in every day and every way.

I dance: all the time. ALL the time.

I sing: at the top of my voice and I’m not embarrassed.

I argue: a lot.

I write: everyday.

I win: all the time.

I lose: rarely.

I wish: I could fly to the moon.

I listen: and I hear.

I don’t understand: why he told her what I said.

I’m scared of: being alone.

I forget: that I’m not 17 anymore.

I am happy: because I work on it!

random photos I'm trying to figure out if I like or not

2010-08-26T14:45:00.003+02:00

of the Ethekweni Municipality, and why they can eat my #^&@*

2010-08-26T10:45:00.001+02:00

I’m not sure what one would experience elsewhere in the world when dealing with electricity connections and transfers, but I know how it goes on this side of the world.

Why – just this morning I was at the Ethkweni Municipality. Tranferring my electricity account from where I live at the mo mo to where I am moving to mo mo (not sure where that comes from – humor me)

Yes. I was there. For 3 hours – makes me smile like this ---> :-)

No. Not really. All the did was piss me off. Like this ::d(-_-)b::

3 hours – and I did not manage to have the connection transferred. I ended up having to go to 3 different Ethekweni offices, I did not even know there were 3 in Durban. This one does not know, so they send me there, then they don’t know, so they send me elsewhere, and they don’t know, and they don’t know, and…. I just walked out and came back to work.

So I move tomorrow and I don’t have power. Lovely.

I’ll try again this afternoon, once I’ve calmed down and I can get hold of some vodka.

stuck

2010-08-25T10:35:00.001+02:00

Hey all.

I’m having bloggers block. And I’m not in the mood to write a diary entry. I need to be a bit more creative. Only, I’m stuck.

So – here is what I would like you lot to do. All three of you still following the blog. Hehe.

Comment below with random words, or blog post suggestions. Give me a theme or give me a word. Give me a color. Give me what ever you have… I’ll see what I can do with it.

Thanking you kindly.

The Woz.

of birthday parties... and a cow

2010-08-23T10:15:00.002+02:00

This proved to be a very busy weekend. there was no time for lying on the beach or even catching a quick snooze on the couch. This was birthday weekend.

Saturday morning 9:00am:
My best friend’s daughter turned one! We went up the hill to Hillcrest and found our way to the Animal Farm! What great fun. The boyfriend was excited. He got to milk a cow. In all his 31 years he had never milked a cow? Never. He can cross out that one on his bucket list.

Saturday afternoon 13:30pm:
Lunch with Silla, whose Phantom of the Opera themed 26th birthday party we could not make. So a quick bite and a few drinks later we were able to say we did our best to spend time with her.

Saturday evening 20:00pm:
Laura’s big 3 uh Oh! That was fun. I think. I can not remember. The only reason I even know I was there is because there are photographs. Eish. Well done girl, fantastic party. How am I going to compete with that in March? Eh? Uh? Oh well, I will :)

Sunday afternoon 13:30pm:
My cousins daughters second birthday. That was an event. Nothing scarier than a family gathering. The boyfriend loves it – he gets a lot of attention from the family, but I could do with less. Hehe. You must understand that when my side of our family gets to a larger family gathering – it is always interesting, what with my older sister and brother both gay and my youngest brother a Pastor… I’m sure you can imagine.

Anyway – boring, I know, but my blog – so I don’t care. Here is a pic of my man milking a cow.

what you mean it's NOT summer?

2010-08-20T13:56:00.000+02:00

Why do I love living in my hometown, Durban, Sunny South Africa?

Well – that’s not a very difficult one to explain.

While the rest of the country is reeling from the cold and wearing warm fluffy mittens, here in Durban, the middle of Winter and this is the weather forecast for the weekend…

Saturday 13-25°C
Sunny and mild.

Sunday 16-29°C
Sunny and pleasantly warm.

Pleasantly warm :) just the way I like it. I guess I will have to schlep the 1km down the road to the beach and sit in the sun and surf…

again!

egad!

3 strikes AND YOU'RE OUT!

2010-08-19T09:26:00.000+02:00

I think strikes should be illegal. Especially when these strikes affect innocent people. Let us have a look at the current fiasco we find ourselves in.

Teachers are striking because they want more money. I get it. They deserve a hell of a lot more, only – a vast majority of them are only substandard teachers. Who suffers? The kids. Children have not been able to get to class because the teachers refuse to be there. I watched on telly this morning as one of the Union members said “we don’t care if we strike for the rest of the year or who is affected” that person should be shot right there and then. Final year students have exams coming up and they cant do anything about it. This morning I read a story about the chaos at Scottburgh High School here in KZN. I shall copy and paste for your easy reference (aren’t I sweet)

“Scottburgh High School had closed last Thursday because of the intimidation accompanying the nationwide public servants' strike. On Wednesday, 107 pupils and four teachers were studying at the local country club when a gang invaded the property, demanding to know what the pupils were doing. Pupil Johan Naude saw two fellow *matrics brutally attacked. "They grabbed two girls by the hair, threw them on the floor and started kicking them. I saw one of the girls hit on the head with a *knobkierie and I was also hit when I tried to help them," he said.”

HEY? WTF? I don’t like this one bit.

Even the nurses and doctors are striking. It has spiraled out of control. They have blockaded hospitals and clinics, refusing sick people entry and the right to medical care! This scares and worries me immensely. Strike if you must – but do NOT deny people their basic rights!

I’m not saying that I’m ready to pack my bags and flee the country because I maintain my love and pride for this place. Only, it is beginning to wane. I suppose all we can do is wait and see…

I think the Government should give them the increases they want. Give it to them. And then, follow it with “But now we are going to have cut departments in half to afford it”

Lets see how quickly they shut up then.

I’m not one to write newsworthy or political blogs – but this has just started to piss me off now.

of time out... that i need

2010-08-17T08:09:00.000+02:00

He wanted a little bit of magic,
He needed a ray of sunshine –

He wanted to dance in the rain,

Just to feel alive again.

of my secret crush... who i love and want to marry

2010-08-13T09:42:00.004+02:00

Have I ever told you my secret crush? Well, not so secret really. Everyone knows.

Well, now they do.

I think he is lovely. I drool when I see these pics.

sigheth.

Oh - Jonathan Breeze, how I love thee. Come here and spank me.

Please.

ok. I'm embarrassed now. Ignore above.

drool. drool. drool.

hmm. milkshake anyone?

...sigh...

of randomness... because I am

2010-08-11T11:35:00.001+02:00

Boi ya ka sha (that’s how I would spell it anyway)

I want to tell you the story of my dear friend who we shall refer to as Nu.

She’s generally very sweet. And she burps. Which is incredibly funny. Especially when we are in a bar, or at Woolies. (The other day she burped inside Tappa’s and someone said “oh my god, are we on the Bluff?)

That was me. hehehe.

Nu is older than me, by I think about 42years? No. Not really. But this post is about age. And most importantly, Nu’s age… She is 42, I am 29.

My dear Nu was telling me just the other evening, while we were sitting outside on the grass drinking Bacardi and coke zero, smoking a joint and eating parmesan, that she wished she had more friends her own age.

“But Nu” I said. “Anything much older than you is dead!”

And we laughed. But not because it was funny. We were high remember?

Anyway – I’m still in a bit of shock after hearing all this. Trade in the younger model for an older model? That’s just absurd. It does not make sense to me. Either way, I’ve devised a plan of action. I’ve come up with a few ideas on how to meet people after 40. (any other suggestions welcome)

Start a book club
Do your shopping on Tuesday’s afternoons. Its pensioner’s day.
Volunteer at TAFTA – drive the bus on Tuesday’s.
Get a “ring” tan. Join a “Divorce Support” group.
Start bird watching.
Start accepting invites to your friends children’s weddings.
Decoupage is the new Pottery class. If you are over 40.

I told Nu that I was disgusted that she would say such things to me.
I’m not straight enough.
I’m not tall enough.
I’m not old enough.

I feel like the kid at the funfair who is not allowed on the rollercoaster because I’m less than 1meter tall (which is just about right).

And we laughed. Because that was funny. And by then we weren’t high anymore. So we smoked another joint and then we were. And we laughed.

I looked up to the moon, which we all know I adore, and it was full, with a milky gold hue around it. I confessed to Nu, that when I was younger, just a wee little Wozzlet, that I really believed there was a man on the moon!

Nu burped and said “when I was younger, there had not even been a man on the moon”

And we laughed. Because that was funny. And we were high.

And then we poured another Bacardi and coke zero. And I went to look for more cheese.

The end.

my thong song

2010-08-05T11:32:00.001+02:00

I bought a thong.
I don’t really understand why I bought a thong. But I did.

And I wish I had not.

I was there. I saw them. Lying exposed in the men’s underwear display – thongs. And I thought to myself “everyone deserves the right to feel sexy. Thongs are sexy. Right?”

Wrong.

Very, very, very wrong. You are allowed to feel sexy, and by all means, please do. But not everyone is meant to feel sexy in a thong.

So there I was, in my new HOT RED (yip. Mistake number one) thong – modelling around the bedroom, my very own man hips swaying involuntarily of themselves, trying my utmost best to get my boyfriend in “the mood” when he blurts out “You look like a giant tomato pulling a zap sign at me walking around in that. Destroy it”

Well, I tell you, that’s not all that was destroyed on fatal evening : code named : thong cock up. My poor heart was too. And so I said “dam you! You’ll get this thong stuck in your head!”

And then we both laughed because thong sounds like song. With a lithp.

thank you. that is all.

some early morning C&H

2010-08-05T08:10:00.001+02:00

of goldfish and people and their similarities

2010-08-04T08:44:00.003+02:00

I’m a manipulator. I am quite proud of this fact. Not in the evil, bitchy way the villains in a soapie are manipulators. More of a “I know how to and so I use it to get my way”

I’ve come to believe that people are very much like goldfish. I have goldfish and I’ve spent a lot of time observing them – goldfish do nothing really. They swim. They eat. They poop. Once a day I feed them. They know now, I’m sure, that every morning at 5am Daddy Wozzel comes through and sprinkles flakes into the tank. Like manna from heaven. Only it’s fishy. I can walk past the tank anytime of the day and tap the lid and what will those little fishies do? They frantically swim to the top in expectation of food.

This is why I think people are like goldfish. I read people well. I know what to say to who, when and how to say it. I bat my eyelids and smile and try put the cutest sweetest face on when dealing with a lady. When I’m dealing with an obviously straight “man’s man” I just as easily put on the more macho “howzit bru” look. I look for the weak spots or soft spots in a person – I learn what persons interests are, what makes them tick, what makes them think. And once I’ve gathered all of that I use it to my own advantage.

So far, so good.

I have a great job. The best office space in the department. I get to do pretty much what I want. I get to take time off when I want, I am asked for my opinion. I’m included in things that others in my department are not. And this is because just like my little fish that get fed a little bit each day – just enough for them not to get greedy – I feed people the information they want. I tell them what they want to hear or what they need to hear, sometimes stuff that they don’t need to hear. I befriend them. I make them number one. And again, just like those goldfish, when I walk past they come swimming to me hoping for more… but they only get what I give them and when I want to give it to them. And in return I get what I want. The truth is, and I don’t want it to sounds terrible, but people are jealous of me at work and I'm seen as someone who always gets his way - yet I’m still the favorite amongst them all, because I know how to handle them.

Only I am the one scoring because I’m the one playing the game and I’m the one keeping count and when I’m the one who wants something or needs something I know exactly where to go and who to speak to – to get it. I have ambition. I have goals. And I'm not scared to step on a few heads or scratch a few backs to reach them.

Yes. Yes. I know. Quite ingenious isn’t it?

cut and blow

2010-08-03T08:04:00.000+02:00

I had my hair cut yesterday. I went to a salon I had not been to before, so naturally I was a little hesitant. You see, I have very mean, spiteful hair that refuses to co-operate with anyone, being temperamental and all, I get nervous when someone new cuts it. I’m always a little worried my hair will say something rude or bite them.

One just never knows with obnoxious hair.

So there I was – seated, and this young lady started cutting my hair and chatting away. Next thing I realise she is flirting with me. I’m terrible at reading signs and can never be sure of these things. She said “you have beautiful curls” and so I said “thank you, now cut them off please” and then she said “you’re quite a good looking young man” and I blushed and said “thank you, my boyfriend also thinks so” and then she was like “oh, you’re gay? All the good guys are gay” and I said “well, there was this one time…” and she laughed, and I laughed…

And I only paid R50.00 – for a haircut. In Mount Edgecombe. That’s unheard of.

I was quite pleased to learn I can use my looks to get what I want (and discounted hair cuts) and so immediately started thinking of all the things I could get and how I can use my looks to do so.

Only then the bubble popped and I came back down to earth. I mean really now, 29 years and I’m only realising this now. Clearly I’m mistaken.

Which just made me feel sad. At least I have good hair today.

of packing boxes... which I hate

2010-08-02T09:32:00.000+02:00

When my boyfriend and I met I was living with a roommate in a beautiful large Town House. It was my roommate who suggested / invited my boyfriend to move in with us. It was a crazy and intimidating situation considering that the boyfriend and I had only been together for 4 months at the time and the dynamics of all three of us living together was scary. And after much consideration and debate it was decided that he would move in with us and another year later it’s all worked out wonderfully.

Of course people change. And the last year has been one of great change and shift. We have had a few issues here and there. Now and again something crops up and there is a disagreement amongst the three of us. The last two months have been particularly tough. There have been a few more arguments. A few more outbursts. And slowly I started hating home. I did not feel comfortable anymore. I felt like I had no space.

This weekend the boyfriend and I went and looked at a new home. We fell in love with the space. We still have a safe secure inside, lock up parking. We still have our own private garden (this is huge for me) – we are still in the same area, central. Close to the beach. Just outside the city. And I am in my element.

It worked well while it lasted all of us together, and now my boyfriend and I get to start doing things our own way. In our own space. And I think it’s bloody marvellous.

I just hate packing and now I need to get some boxes…

(ps, for those who follow my blog… the new place happens to be the apartment that “the friend” lives in, he is moving… no one can say this was not meant to be, it all just seems to fit together perfectly)

an update of sorts...

2010-07-23T12:03:00.002+02:00

From: Wozzel
Sent: 23 July 2010 11:15
To: The friend
Subject:

Hello. How are you doing? I hope you are well and happy. Fit and flourishing!

Wanted to check with you if you had any plans for early this evening? If not, and you’re free I was thinking of popping past you for a visit this afternoon after work? I’m thinking that if that’s ok I would like to come by straight after work (arriving that side at about 5:15pm)

Let me know if you are keen on a catch up session?

Have a lekker day.

Woz

From: The friend
Sent: 23 July 2010 11:22 AM
To: Wozzel
Subject: RE:

Sounds good to me:)

Do you have any of the good stuff, cos I've been out for two weeks, and am ready to get back on the (high) horse

From: Wozzel
Sent: 23 July 2010 11:25
To: The friend
Subject: RE: RE:

Haha. ok. No worries. I do have something nice that I got from Cool Runnings. Will see you later then!

From: The friend
Sent: 23 July 2010 11:25
To: Wozzel
Subject: RE: RE:

Just read your blog post - sweet! forgot about that pic!

and the names of the moves...hehe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yay, I'm so excited!!!

WEEKEND BABY!

2010-07-23T08:35:00.001+02:00

Aah. Home alone this weekend (except for roommate, but I’m not talking to her at the moment)

The boyfriend is heading down the coast to visit his parents for the weekend, and I don’t really have the energy for all of that – plus – time apart is good. Not too much time apart though. He has strict instruction to be home no later than 12:00 Sunday afternoon. Else there will be shitties to pay… my wrath will be swift and decisive.

This space alone gives me time to play guitar – without interruption or requests. I get to work in my garden (read: haven) and I get to drink red wine and be stoned and laugh at myself in the mirror every time I walk past. Small things amuse – small minds.

I don’t have to cook. I can just microwave. I don’t have to make my bed. I can sleep in late. I don’t have to entertain anyone other than myself. I don’t have to do anything that anyone else wants to do. I get to do everything that I want to do.

Yay.

Happy weekend everybuddy. Have a rocking one!

memory lane

2010-07-22T14:33:00.001+02:00

Although I have been incredibly busy at work today I spent a huge chunk of time (merrily) skipping down memory lane. I was looking through photographs I have saved on my computer. And after 3 years here I have quite a bit.

I was mainly looking at old photos of my (ex) best friend and I. Such a sad and silly situation – we had a fall out over a year ago over a really ridiculous thing. In fact, it was probably more like over a year and a half ago.

We were mad together. We spent most of our time at his house. Smoking a joint and dancing in the lounge to Britney Spears. We were Britney mad! MAD I TELL YOU. We had dance moves we would randomly name like “the crazy rabbit” or “the avatar” and then, there was the “robot dance” of which we could not take any credit for coming up with, but it was ours and we danced it best.

I miss the bloody ass so much.

We have very recently started communicating again. Not much. It’s a text message here and an email there. Just random “hello, hope you’re well” – and I’m hoping that soon we will actually meet up for a coffee and a dance. And maybe we will do “the avatar”

And we can gossip about what we have been doing for the last 18 months and I can introduce him to my boyfriend of the last 16 months and we can maybe laugh again and sing again – and then maybe, people will say “oh dammit, there they go again, those mad boys”

And we will smile and wave and refuse to believe a word they are saying because it’s the rest of the world that is mad. Not us.

And I know it will never quite be the same again. But hey – I’m up for trying.

And if you read this. And I know you still read my blog :) drop me an email and invite me for coffee ok?

Thank you. That is all.

come and gone

2010-07-20T10:09:00.001+02:00

What I miss the most about the Soccer World Cup is the sea of colour that accompanied the vibe, atmosphere and celebrations. The mirror socks and the window flags that flooded the highways and byways of Durban. Of all over South Africa in fact.

There are still one or two die hard fans I’ve noticed on the road who have kept their flag flying and I always smile and think how grand it is they have not removed them yet. The games may be over, but we will always remember 2010 – how could we possibly forget?

Something else I’ve noticed, which has saddened me somewhat is the sudden disappearance of all the extra police and security we had patrolling Durban and the Beach Front Promenade. I’ve lived in this city all my life. I love this city. I am as typical a Durban boy as typical can be. Except I don’t have sun bleached hair and I can not surf.

I’ve always loved exploring the city and I can pretty much take you to all the little hide outs and quiet spots with my eyes closed. Chances are you wont find me drinking a mojito at Moyo or at I’ll Maurice behind the Beverly Hills Hotel sipping on a strawberry daquiri. You’ll more likely to find me in a pub in the centre of town drinking a beer our of a bottle sitting on a crate. Or in on one of the little hidden bars dotted along the beach front.

A friend once told me “The dodgier the area, the tastier the KFC”
I don’t see why that should be any different for a few ice cold pints.

But I digress.

Now that the SWC has come and gone. So have the police. I remember weeks leading up to the event there were scores of policemen and women stationed, well, everywhere. Every 5 meters another two could be seen patrolling – not that I am suggesting we live in a city so dangerous that there has to be a constant presence, we all know the truth. We live in a world that suggests we should have a constant police presence. A sense of safety and security.

I just personally think it was a great idea. And now it’s not such a great idea. And, then, I also want to know – where are they all? Did our government not say that these men and woman would still be employed after the World Cup? Did they not assure us that this was not all just a show for our visitors?

So where are they? Hopefully not sharing a beer or KFC Streetwise 2 in some dodgy shebeen in the centre of town.

Ubuntu in Abundance

2010-07-01T08:24:00.000+02:00

My blog posts have been very few and far between at the moment, and the reason for that is for another post, on another day. In the interim I want to post an article I read that really made me feel Proudly South African.

The Huffington Post
Shari Cohen
International development worker in the public health sector
Posted: June 15, 2010 11:35 AM

South Africa Rolls Out the Ubuntu in Abundance

I went on a rant the other day regarding the cost of the 2010 World Cup versus all the critical needs South Africa is facing and whether or not the most vulnerable of this country would gain anything from having the World Cup hosted in their country. At that time, I also had some very positive things to say about our hosts for the 2010 World Cup and I wanted to share that side of the coin as well, because it is equally important.
To say that I have been blown away at the hospitality South Africa has shown the rest of the world would be an understatement. I think back on recent Olympics and struggle to remember much reporting in the USA of athletes from other countries. I remember when a Togolese guy won a bronze medal in kayaking and NBC reported it and I thought to myself, "where are all the other fascinating stories like this one...like the Jamaican bobsledding team." In today's America, sadly, we have drifted so far towards being so US-centric that we only seem to root for the Americans.
Not so here in South Africa. I've been here since early May and each week I have become more and more impressed with the global embrace that South Africans have offered up to the world. On the way to the airport a couple of weeks ago, I heard a radio program that said each day they would focus on one country that would be coming to South Africa for the World Cup, and they would explore not only that sport's history in soccer, but also their politics, religion, and socio-cultural practices. On the television, I've seen numerous programs that focus on a particular country and it's history of soccer and how the history of that country is intertwined with their soccer history. I've seen programs on India, exploring why India enjoys soccer but hasn't really excelled at the global level... yet. And I've seen shows on soccer in Muslim countries. Maybe it's planned, maybe it's unplanned, maybe it's by chance, but it is happening. It's not just about South Africans showing off their varied and multifaceted culture to their global guests, it's also about using this opportunity to educate South Africa on the rest of Planet Earth's inhabitants.
As I moved through my work here in the provinces over the last six weeks, I had a pivotal meeting with the Board members of a rural NGO. They were explaining their guiding program philosophy of Ubuntu. No, not the Linux program. I'm talking about the traditional African philosophy of Ubuntu that essentially says, "No man is an island."
I found a better explanation from Wikipedia:
Archbishop Desmond Tutu further explained Ubuntu in 2008:
One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality -- Ubuntu -- you are known for your generosity.
 We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity.

To me, Ubuntu is the acceptance of others as parts of the sum total of each of us. And that is exactly what I have experienced during the lead up to, and the initial days of this World Cup. There is nary a South African citizen that I've met on the street, or in shops or restaurants or hotels, that hasn't gone out of their way to greet me and make me feel like I am home. And I don't mean that in the trivial, "Oh, aren't they nice, homey people here... " sort of way. I mean real, genuine interest and questions. People seriously want to know where I come from. What it's like where I live. How does it compare to where I am now. What do I think of South Africa. Oh yes, and what do I think of Bafana Bafana... The questions and conversations are in earnest. They are honest. And they are had with enthusiasm and a thirst to know more. South Africans are drinking deeply from the cup of humanity that has been brought to their doorstep. I would never imagine that an American World Cup or Olympics would ever be this welcoming to the rest of the world. And that saddens me for the state of my home country, but it also makes me feel the pride of the South African people.
I have been truly humbled on this trip. And while I have my gripes regarding development here, I cannot say one negative thing about how South Africa has handled its duties as host and hostess to the world. If I could say one thing to sum up being here during this once-in-a-lifetime experience, it would be that I've learned the value of Ubuntu, and that when found and offered in abundance, the world is indeed a better place to live in.
So, if South Africa accomplishes nothing more on the playing field, it will still have won as a host country. I am a cynic, no doubt about that. And yet I have to admit, I'm a little teary just writing this because I leave for home next weekend and I will be leaving a little piece of myself here in South Africa. I just hope I have learned enough to bring back a little piece of Ubuntu to my homeland, where perhaps with a little caring and a little water, it will take root as naturally as it does here, in the cradle of civilization. It's funny, many people in America still ask me, "are the people in Africa very primitive?" Yes, I know, amazing someone could ask that but they do. And when they do, I usually explain that living in a mud hut does not make one primitive, however, allowing kids to sell drugs to other kids and engage in drive-by killings -- isn't that primitive behavior? I think it is. When I think of Ubuntu and my recent experiences here, I think America has much to learn from Africa in general, in terms of living as a larger village; and as human beings who are all interconnected with each other, each of us having an affect on our brothers and sisters.
As the 2010 Cup slogan goes, "Feel it. It is here." Well, I have felt it, because I am here. Thank you South Africa, for giving me this unexpected gift. I am humbled.

toot toot

2010-06-25T09:22:00.001+02:00

this, that and 4 goldfish

2010-06-17T08:27:00.002+02:00

A frightening thing happened yesterday. I had spilt red wine on a pair of beige pyjama pants of my boyfriends and he turned wild. I have never seen him that angry. He had me against the wall with a clenched fist ready to punch me. He did not hit me, but I was sure he would.

Over a drop of wine on his pyjama pants.

I’m still trying to figure it all out and I’m still trying to decide what I’m going to do about it. I guess I’m still in shock. This is the gentlest human being I’ve ever known. Would not hurt a fly. Only, he went berserk over a pair of pants. Not even pants you would wear out. I’ve been the victim of an abusive relationship. There were drugs involved back then, so I know that had a lot to do with it, but this, eish… I don’t know. Anyway – that’s my drama and now it’s out there.

Yesterday was a public holiday in SA. Youth day. I took advantage of the day off to set up the fish tank I bought a few months ago. I was like a little kid cleaning and scrubbing and setting it all up. I even went and bought fish! 4 fish, R100.00 and I can not even eat them. Anyway, I went with goldfish because they are easy and seeing as this is my first attempt at keeping fish I decided they would be the best bet to get into it.

They are just so bloody cute. I even took a picture :)

when I die

2010-06-15T08:16:00.000+02:00

Sometime in the future, (could be tomorrow, could be next week) I'm going to die. Chances are good that I won't be happy about this. So, to make it easier on me, I've decided to include in my will several silly things as my final requests. Therefore, the people I know will have to do these things out of respect of my memory. Suckers.
And I will be in heaven, looking down with Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Michael Jackson, Brittany Murphy, and assorted others as you people have to do all the things I've laid out for you. We will laugh. And not just cause heaven's air is made of laughing gas.

Here's what I've got so far:

1) shown at calling hours in casket made of delicious waffle cone.

2) Play "Thriller" by Michael Jackson during memorial service and do robot dance.

3) Read eulogy in style of auctioneer.

4) Sever body into 9 pieces, bury one in each province.

6) Except head, which should be frozen. Everyone will get to carry it around for a week like the Stanley Cup. Also can etch name into side of face.

7) Instead of hearse, tie me to top of car roof, like carcass of dead Kudu.

8) Cars in funeral procession must have bumper sticker that says "Honk if you're horny!"

And yes, I know you bastards will bury me in a shoe box at Oribi Gorge. That's fine too.

Dear Winter

2010-06-14T10:49:00.000+02:00

Dear Winter

Would you be so kind as to just go away you stupid arse. I did not appreciate you crawling into bed with me last night. I did not enjoy the way you ran your hands down my back or pressed your icy feet against mine. Which had been nice and toasty at the time.

I think you are rude. I find you obnoxious and inconsiderate. I think you should bugger off.

Regards,
Wozzel

Ps. Your brother, Summer, I think he is quite hot. Let him know I said so?

Jean-Luc

2010-06-11T10:23:00.000+02:00

Here in Durban there is an old market space known as “The Stables”

Very popular place amongst us Durbanites and touristy type people, The Stables used to be, well, old horse stables now converted into a Market. There are lots of interesting little shoppes. Food stalls and a beer tent :)

There is also one stall filled to the brim with some of the oldest stuff ever. Very antiquey. A year and a half ago the boyfriend and I were rummaging through all the goodies in this little stall when we came across the most horrible little porcelain figurine I had ever laid my eyes on. The boyfriend thought it was most unusual and completely fell in love with it.

Over the last few months every time we go there we see the same figurine sitting there on the shelf. I of course made comment on the fact that it was so ugly no one could possibly want it.

Well… guess what? The boyfriend decided that finally he had enough of seeing it there. He decided, he was going to buy it.

I begged and pleaded that he not buy this thing, as I refer to it, but no, he would not listen. He bought it. He even bargained it from the lady from R10.00 to R5.00 – I personally thought that if anyone wanted to buy it, these people should have just given it away for free.

Anyhoo – said “thing” was bought and placed on the shelf in our room. IN OUR ROOM!! And I see it everyday. It was even named… Jean-Luc.

Pic below. Someone pity me please…

They say your eyes are the window to your soul.

2010-06-09T16:39:00.001+02:00

They say your eyes are the window to your soul.

Can you see my soul?
Can you see what it looks like?
Can you tell me its colour?
Can you hear what song it sings?
Can you really see my soul?

What is my soul doing?
Who is my soul with?
Where does my soul go?
When did my soul first come to this earth?

Is my soul happy -
Is it sad -
Is my soul he or she?
Is my soul African? Is it European?
Maybe Chinese? Perhaps Indian?
Does my soul really care about crap like that?

I wonder what language my soul speaks.
Sometimes I just don’t understand him/her/it

I think my soul is happy –
I think my soul sings –
I know; because sometimes I sing along.
I think my soul likes me…
Which is good because I quite like it.

xXxXxXx

“Eyes so transparent that through them the soul is seen”
~Theophile Gautier~

"The eyes have one language everywhere."
~George Herbert~

"The eye is the jewel of the body."
~Henry David Thoreau~

"The eyes indicate the antiquity of the soul."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson~

this is how you can piss me off!!! uuurgh!!!

2010-06-09T10:24:00.000+02:00

I’m so irritated right now I can not even begin to tell you how I feel. I heard a story on the radio this morning that has been making a few headlines around the world over the last two weeks – and it’s the recent update that has me annoyed.

Anyone heard about the gay couple in Malawi who got married some two weeks ago, only to be prosecuted by the government – because homosexuality is illegal in the country? So, the world gets all up in arms about it and people are rallying behind this gay couple shouting “Equal Rights” and all that jazz… only, now I hear this couple have split. Two weeks later.

Oh, it gets better. The one dude is now miraculously straight! And in love with a woman he intends tying the knot with. I can not actually fully convey how much this displeases me.

And why? Not because “maybe” he is in love (I’m all for love) – but because I feel that this just fucks up the entire situation. Throws a spanner in the works. Sets Gay Rights one times MASSIVE leap back for all gay couples in the country, because the way I see it these two are now just playing a very silly game.

I’ve taken the liberty to do a bit of a cut and paste here. You can follow this nice long link here to read the original article… http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?set_id=1&click_id=3095&art_id=nw20100608162610615C301288

“Lilongwe - A gay Malawian couple whose 14-year prison sentence for their love affair led to international condemnation has split over a girl, a newspaper report said on Tuesday.
Malawi's leader pardoned the two men in late May on humanitarian grounds after a meeting with UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, who applauded the move and urged the country to amend "outdated" laws on homosexuality.

Steven Monjeza, 26, told The Nation, a major local daily, he had left his partner, 20-year-old Tiwonge Chimbalanga, because he had been coerced into the gay relationship and found a better match with a 24-year-old woman named Dorothy.

"I am looking forward to a future with him. I don't care what people say. But I am yet to tell my parents," she told the paper.

Neither of the two men were immediately available for comment.

Monjeza and Chimbalanga were arrested after celebrating their engagement in a traditional ceremony in late December.

They were tried and found guilty in May of sodomy and indecency. The trial became a test case for gay rights in the southern African country.

Activists and the international community welcomed their pardon, with the White House urging an end to "the persecution and criminalisation of sexual orientation and gender identity".

Homosexuality in Africa, which is illegal in most of the continent's 53 countries, has become a contentious issue in recent months after a Ugandan lawmaker proposed a bill including the death penalty for some acts, police raided a gay wedding in Kenya and the Malawian couple were arrested.

Major donors to aid-dependent Malawi had condemned the jail sentence as an abuse of human rights and warned it could hurt support for Malawi's economy”
• Reporting by Mabvuto Banda

the truth!

2010-06-08T07:29:00.000+02:00

I think everyone should be told the horrid truth about exercising. Really it looks so good on TV when you get that montage of people exercising, first they struggle and three shots later they are strong and fit and can run hundreds of miles. Well, ya wha-EVA!!! I started exercising again about 3 weeks ago and I ran twice a day for three days, have now decided only once a day, in the mornings will be good enough, and my body aches, I am not fit or super fast the stupid montage is taking it's time.

I think it's a secret plot by the exercise bunny to get the human race so tired and aching so they can takeover the world. Yes just because I am paranoid does not mean they are not trying to get me.

sunrise... sunrise...

2010-06-07T14:53:00.002+02:00

That photograph was taken on my little old cell phone.

I call it names like “little” and “old” because it is.
It don’t matter.

I took this photograph just the other day.
6am.
Is it not just a stunning sunrise?
One of the reasons I love Durban.
And the colour, I find, is more vivid and brighter, almost, in Winter.
The sea – the sky, the trees and the grass all seem to be bluer, or greener and richer.

And to top that there cherry. Durban and winter don’t even go in the same sentence. For real. This city is always warm… always. Anyone out there going to be in the country / city for any of the Soccer World Cup games?

Aaah, ps – I have some internet access back at work. Only gmail (and blogs are powered by google – bonus)

Lucky me eh?
Naah, lucky you lot methinks…

and its ONLY Tuesday?

2010-05-11T12:31:00.003+02:00

Even though I’ve been busy this week, and alone in my department (because you know, everyone must get sick at the same time) I have still managed to keep up to date – keep clients happy(ish) and my sanity intact. I am also generally a nice guy. Cool, calm, collected - I don’t really have much of a temper and I’m quite good with angry people because of my wonderful talent to “pretend I actually care about you” – I am a champion of life.

Then there was today. dum dum dum…

Today I absolutely lost it. I had 2 irate clients one after the other who decided that “fuck” is an appropriate business word to use. This is the context in which “fuck” has been used today.

“You clearly have no fucking idea what you are doing. You should have been a mechanic because you have no people skills”

A mechanic? Better yet – a gay mechanic? bwahahaha - Shit, I thought you only found them in porn movies. You dear sir, clearly have no fucking idea what you are talking about because I am like THE fucking peoples fucking person OF note.

“How does your fucking company operate when I’ve tried to get through 5 times and no one answers the phone?”

You try doing the jobs of 5 people when you are alone in the office trying your best to keep everyone happy you piece of shit. (I bet you, with my luck, all these people read blogs…) well, in that case – GOOD, read on… I’m not done yet!!!

Actually I am.

I’m just not happy right now. I feel quite sad. So what do I do?

want ek dink ek is “die man”

- I punched the wall after the last call, snapped a pen and threw a stapler. Like in real life, not just saying it – and got into trouble with dragon lady aka - boss.

Because I thought I was a hero. And now?

Now I have sore knuckles, my hand is bleeding because the pen cut me – I have no pen and I’m not sure where my stapler landed.

I just want to go home and have a glass of wine – and the biggest, fattest jayjay ever seen.

The end.

In case the Gay Mechanics Society of South Africa come hunting me down, get over it. I’m not in the mood and you know what I mean anyway *deep breaths wozzie, deep breaths*

baaa!

2010-05-04T13:15:00.001+02:00

Not much news in my life really. Nothing witty – smart or funny to say either. No pearls of wisdom or little truffles of secret indulgencies. Nothing scary, nothing frightening. No mishaps, piss-ups, fuckups or bumping into parents in Adult sex shops. I’ve not fallen pregnant, or out of love, perhaps only deeper in. I’ve not lost a phone or drunk dialled my boss for a lift home while pub crawling, or is that, rolling. I’m just here. A little fish in a real big pond. Swimming round and round.

And that’s ok. I’m alright with a slightly slower pace. The mayhem and chaos of my everyday life as I usually know it should return to normal soon.

the winter migration

2010-04-30T13:18:00.001+02:00

It would seem the winter migration to Durban has begun. Every year. From Jozi, they trek down to the warmest place in SA during winter. Out of the blue they’ve arrived. And they are everywhere. Umhlanga never used to have street kids and homeless people hanging around begging at the stop lights like this before. Argyle Road in Morningside is even worse at the moment. There are beggars everywhere.

My heart goes out to these people, it really does but it also makes me very nervous. These are desperate people and desperation drives people to do things they may not usually do. I’m involved with charity and I try doing my bit, but I won’t give money to people on the street. Really, what is the point? And there is not much more we can do about it is there?

Walking to the bus stop this morning (my lift has a day off), I saw the usual homeless guys (and a few newbie’s) sitting outside Spar with empty Autumn Harvest Sparkling Wine (it should read: Paraffin) bottles lying next to them. Their hands outstretched, open, asking for money.

I politely smile and move on.

Tied to the telephone pole was a dog. (Don’t worry; his owner was in the café next door) I knelt to pat him on the head. A man standing by the bus stop approaches me and says;

"You should show the same compassion to the homeless guys as you do that dog."

So, I pat them too.

Good for me! I made a joke at the expense of a few homeless guys. And it never cost me a cent. *round of applause*

What more can we do?

Before I go, let me tell you why I’m limping today.

I was trying to moonwalk this morning to Britney while I was doing the flamingo in the lounge while buttoning up my shirt and I tripped. I reached out and tried grabbing hold of Onion (my pet giraffe) for support only to fall down anyway. Silly billy. Great help you were!

You all have a good weekend now hear?

oh the weekend that was...

2010-04-28T13:44:00.000+02:00

We bought a sex “toy” this weekend.

In real life.

Went to Adult world. Away from home because we did not want to “bump into anyone we know”

Bumped into my mother there.

True story.

She used the same excuse that I was going to “I’m here to buy a friend a “fun” gift for her birthday”

Only, when you are holding a “toy” in one hand and your boyfriend has another “toy” in his hand and you are speaking to your mother in Adult World, well, you know you’re both talking crap.

Fun times I tell you. Fun times.

Then I went to go watch a show at the theatre. And then the cops asked us nicely to “vacate the premises” and then we found out there was a bomb. And they found it 3 hours later and I’m just so glad I did not end up getting blown up and having my arms and legs everywhere, coz as you know, everyone already wants a piece of me.

How are you lot?

a spider...

2010-04-16T12:05:00.001+02:00

I think spiders are frightfully horrid creatures. With those hairy little legs and the fact that they have silk pooping out their butts that they then build into homes/traps is just too much for my little brain. I also hate when I walk through a spider-web and it's like OMG! So then you have to peel off the sticky INVISIBLE web and face the feeling that the spider is on you planning its strategy on how to bite you which is definitely no bueno. And I don’t kill them either because when I'm trying to kill a bug and it gets away I always end up thinking, "Dammit he's going to murder me now."
I do have reason to think they are very clever little creatures though. Just this morning, while standing outside have a cigarette I noticed a spiders web in the branches of the little shrub in the gardens.

So I broke it.

The web.

Not the spider.

Like the big kid I am I broke it. I had not ulterior motive. I just broke the web. This does not make me a bad person. We dust away spider webs all the time.

Then I witnessed something quite spectacular. The little spider immediately began repairing and rebuilding his web! Right before my very eyes. I found this fascinating and after another 10 minutes of standing there, someone from my office actually came looking for me because I was still quite glued to my spot just observing him pooping out silk.

I had to leave my little friend then, but when I went out a little while later I checked in on him and found that he had completed his task, and was napping (it looked so) after a meal of some sort of bug that had already been caught up in his web and turned into bug milkshake!

Wow.
That’s pretty amazing.
I think so anyway.

It got me thinking of all sorts of thinking stuff, and how in life, people often walk past and just unapologetically break down certain aspects, areas or beliefs we have. And too often we stand there, dumbfounded, not knowing what to do next.

I’m going to try being a little more like the little spider. That horrible little thing that I’m sure just wants to eat me. The next time someone tries taking away from me, or breaks down something I’ve built, believed or hoped for, I’m just going to get right back up again and put it back together again.

Thank you for that lesson. You clever little spider.

Ps – I know they don’t shoot silk out their buts really really, but I’m not sure where it does come from and “buts” is just a word that makes me laugh so much. So leave me be.