For My Entertainment

I've rediscovered superglue and instantly bonded my skin to both a pair of sunglasses and my trusty bag.

 

In my quest to become more of a chick, I decided to investigate the contents of my bag. It's not a handbag, handbags are impractical and you have to handle them with care. You cannot, for example, fit 2 books, 5 cds, a bottle of water and a stack of dvds into a handbag. Impractical.

 

Today, and today only, I have in my bag:

* A Student card from 2 years ago

* An unused bag of green tea (mint flavour)

* 4 Tampons

* 2 Stiffy disks with I assume some e-mails on them

* My ID book

* My passport

* The lyrics of "dream a little dream of me" by Louis Armstrong

* A bottle of Kaleidoscope deoderant, oh sorry, perfume body spray by Lentheric. Says on the side He stared at her walking down the street. It should have been illegal for her to appear in public without warning. She was about to 'CREATE STIR'. Bahaha! I just prefer not smelling like sweat, doubt it's so powerful as to warrant a warrant of arrest.

* 3 incomplete and 2 completed Sudoku puzzles

* A copy of my passport & ID, stamped and signed by the police.

* A stack of dirty, crumpled up forms I had to fax a month ago in order to finally get a tax number after more than a year of earning a salary. Hope no one from SARS ever stumbles upon this blog. I never faxed it.

* January - June 2006 Almenac for Nan Hua temple

* A copy of The Tao of Health, Sex & Longevity by Daniel Reid a.k.a. my personal bible

* Program for Chinese New Years (arf! arf!)

* Payslip for January 2006

* Printed e-mail from Marcel that I might have replied to

* 5 ml plastic measuring spoon

* 2 black pens

* 5 Norflex muscle relaxants

* Spare key for car (because I've had to break into my car like 7 times before, and once break a window - now I have 4 spare keys planted in mysterious places)

* USB 128 MB flashdisk

* Housekeys with Avalokitesvara keychain (now I know)

* Crumpled up receipt for JET application sending

* Wallet (what that contains is a whole other paragraph)

* TEFL reading pack # 1

* 2 pairs of sunglasses - one with skin from my fingers on the lenses, one without

 

Me, in a bag.

So Close, but yet So Far

Herewith follows the 5 precepts of Buddhism:

 

1 - No killing

2 - No stealing

3 - No lying

4 - No sexual misconduct

5 - No polluting of the body

 

I'm so close.

Aside from unwittingly stepping on worms and insects, I don't kill. Okay, okay I eat meat, but if I don't, I get haemoglobin anaemia and then I can't climb stairs without panting like a puppy. And I just love tearing into a chunk of red meat with some cheese and mushroom sauce. And I encourage my cat to kill, but he's very far from reaching Nirvana, so he's a lost case. I don't kill.

The only thing I've ever shoplifted was a black balloon (not inflated). The only things I ever steal are ideas and concepts, but I remodel them and make them new, make them my own.

Lying - can't do it. I had to lie to cover myself breaking the 5th precept, and I hated it. I'm on such a truth mission lately, because the truth shall indeed set ye free. Damn, I love telling the truth, maybe because it's a bit scary sometimes.

I suppose sexual misconduct is defined as sleeping around with no love to base the sex on. Actually, sexual misconduct is defined as "behavior of a sexualized nature that betrays sacred trust, violates the ministerial role, and exploits those who are vulnerable in that relationship.” Whatever. Point is, I haven't been doing any sexual misconducting for a veeeeery long time now, so I'm almost like a sacred cow or something.

Haha. then we get to point 5...

 

My dear Point 5.

You were the cause of my big moral dilemma. I walked into the shrine, and looked up at the three Buddhas. 22.5 tons of Burmese teak and gold leaf plating looked down at me, looked through me, and saw how I failed because of you. You, Point 5, are the cause of my agitation - when will I stop spending weekends in toxication? Is 24 not a good time to cut down on things available both on shop shelves and the black market? Why am I not feeling like crap? It would be an incentive to stop. I think I'm just overprotective, protecting me from myself, my daily companion. Or I need a real issue. Or a real lover. Even Daniela told me that over the weekend: "you need to get yourself a lover". Mail order russian bridegrooms here I come.

 

Here's Lookin' at You, Kid

I have a tendency of falling in love with Buddhist boys - even if it's only for the briefest time.

Two bowls of muesli and three easter eggs later (hey, is it easter already?) I'm finally waking up. Looked at myself in the mirror this morning and the first thing I thought was "hmm, Buddha". All the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas have slits for eyes. Enlightment seems to remind of intoxication. After very little sleep, very little food and the death of brain cell community, only ephemeral enlightenment is on my menu.

I almost fell asleep on my way to work. Good thing I wasn't driving. My sleepy absent-mindedness earned me my millionth nickname at work, today everyone is calling me "Tuesday" because I kept saying Tuesday when I meant Saturday in conversation. What's in a name, nê? After this weekend, it's all the same to me.

I'd like to thank Anne for inviting me to the temple for the weekend, it really was grand. I learnt so much. Ever wanted to know more about the Dogs of Fu, the symbolism behind phoenixes or fish, dragons and pseudo swastikas? Chanting ohm mani peme hung, offering peanut butter sandwiches to the triple gem, the five precepts, the six perfections.. Amitabha Buddha, Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, Sakyamuni Buddha, art as a meditation, lotus flowers, Dharma protectors. I learnt so much. Thanks, Nan Hua. Oh, another thing I learnt was that "Nan Hua" means Southern Flower. In the middle of Afrique du Sud.

Woza Weekend..

If I can get away from work, I'll be able to go steal some desserts, pack, shower, and hit the road, Jack.

Pretoria is inviting me with open arms, very much looking forward to this weekend.. First time in yonks I'm gonna get to see the majority of my friends all together on one evening. December holiday has come to an end, and the University kids are slowly returning to their flats and communes. Oh, and lobster. I'm finally getting that lobster that I've been anticipating for weeks now.

Then Saturday early-morning return to Bronkhorstspruit, complimentary lunch at The Temple. They have such good food. All vegetarian, of course, but oh so good. Strange tastes, I'm sure they balance head and heart, and all the other organs in between.

 

Now, for those desserts....

Not Just Another Piece Of Toast

Life would be so much easier is I had a digital camera, a USB cable, a laptop and free wireless internet. No it would just make my blog more interesting, more photos of my feet, maybe of my ribs only they don't show through my skin unless I inhale deeply and use stage-strenght lighting.

 

So in the name of my ribs, I've decided to starve myself for 3-5 days. Breakfast only, because I want to be like Ghandi, but I like to eat. The rest of the day consists of endless glasses of water and cups of green tea. I'm starting to feel silly though, because I have to go to the toilet like 20 times, and every time I have to walk past the highly pregnant lady. I'm peeing more than a pregnant woman, that's saying something. Probably washing all the vitamins out of my body as well.

 

I was looking for some packaging earlier, when a huge metal mixer fell from the top of the cupboard and into my leg. Can't wait to see if it turned blue, it hurt like hell and gave me a limp for 2 minutes. I've been having a lot of near-fatal experiences lately, something's probably telling me to renew my lust for life. The previous time it involved a popping champagne cork. I just had a haircut at work with a paper scissor, this is how we spend our afternoons.

And it rains.

 

I sit outside smoking the last cigarette in my pack, and watch my car's tires disappear in the ever-growing pool of water it's parked in. I think of Noah's flood. I think of tropical storms. I think of forests that smell like moss and pine needles. It's well past sunset, but the sky burns a purple-red. Soon after, the sky confuses itself by lighting up, flashing like a fluoresent light switched on in the dark of night. I finish the rest of the champagne and undress, excited about the prospect of being lulled to sleep by the heavy downpour.

 

Expectation vs realisation, my friend.

 

No sleep. I chang from a sheet to a duvet to this wonderfully soft loosely woven blanket. Still no sleep. I take a shower. No sleep. I make some green tea. Nothing. Listen to the rain. Get irritated with my cat for sleeping, the bastard. Wake him up, he looks at me and falls asleep again. Read a few chapters. No sleep. Extreme tiredness, and a mind so clean and clear a buddhist would envy me. Three steps away from eternal bliss, and it's on tea break. Clip my nails. Do breathing excersises. Watch the rain. Scheme "milk contains a chemical that induces sleep, let me have some yoghurt". Love yoghurt. So does my cat. Become irritated with the rain. Become irritated with an outisde light. Become irritated with wakefulness. Read some more.

I was so looking forward to sleep. Next time, I'll embrace my insomnia and sweep the floor or study some katakana.  

Another Day, Another Quote

I get a new word in my inbox every day. It's the only newsletter I am subscribed to, and I love it. Must admit that I sometimes sip the word, and scroll straight down to the 'intellectual' quote for the day.

Let's see today's:

repartee (rep-uhr-TEE) noun
1. A quick, witty reply or conversation.
2. Cleverness in making witty conversation.

[From repartie (retort), from repartir (to retort), from re- + partir(to part or divide), from Latin partire (to divide), from pars (part).]

But the quote is what got to me.

Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion,enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. -Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)

Damn you, Oscar, you speak lies. How can there not be friendship? Why must there always be hidden intentions. I suppose gay friends are the loophole in this thought, and somewhere there's a memory that Oscar Wilde was a raging homosexual.. but I could be confusing him with Mozart or Gaugin. But I don't think so.

When I moved into a flat in my second year at uni, my mother told me that I'm not allowed to have a male flatmate. Thinking her prudish and conversative, this led to many an argument. Her reasoning was, if you put a male and a female together in a room for long enough, something sexual will result from it. She took Oscar's side in saying that with constant closeness, it is impossible for only friendship to exist between a man and a woman. I believed only my own stubbornness and went against her advice.

Turned out, she was right.

Taking Sides

This all started with an idea. Somewhere, on the road or in the shower or just befefore falling asleep.

The idea was to have a long street in a big city, that is all restaurants. And every restaurant from a different country. What are you in the mood for: Vietnamese food, Micronesian, Costa Rican, Canadian (whatever traditional canadian food is - but that's the point), Estonian, Kyrgyzstanian, Omanian, Polish, etc.

Part of the grand idea was to go to each and every country, and harvest people there with a brilliant knowledge of local cuisine, music, decoration, ambience and cutlery. And in the process, further the journey to globalisation. I'm always very pro-globalisation because I believe that borders don't really exist, and the illusion must be broken down. It works in a 'ideal world' mentality. We can try.

When my brilliant brother was shown away from a job interview with the words "You are perfect for the job, but you're too white and too male, and you don't fit our colour quotas", I was even arguing for the opposition. The tendency is to import engineers from India, because they're not white and therefore the right colour, thus leaving the qualified caucasian engineers with computer-shop jobs dreaming about bigger challenges. But it's globalisation, baby!

So I did a bit of reading up on the topic. And I think that I'll have to review my opinion. Globalisation brings with it the cigar-smoking fat cats that retrench qualified workers because there are starving slaves who'd do exactly the same job for a quarter of the pay. There will always be money driven power monkeys who screw up something as possibly unifying as globalisation. Makes it kinda hard to be optimistic.

I'll keep on focussing on breaking down borders.

Feet For Thought

This is for Stigma & Jurras.

Enjoy boys.

Cabbages and Kings

There's this theory that.. oh, wait.. I've already covered that topic.

All of the pixars of myself on this blog are a misrepresentation of the truth. I just happen to have a cd filled with pics a friend & I took messing around with belts and mosquito nets. My hair's grown so much that it chooses sides when I get up in the mornings. Gently shaped by pillow pressure. Love it. Bed-head is very sexy. Also a bare foot appearing from the bottom of a jean. The only feet I've recently seen popping in and out of jeans are my own, but I still think it's sexy. Would be nice to see someone else's though.

I love cheap, chunky jewelry. No interest in diamonds and platinum and all that jazzlery. It would be fake on me. Fake things on a real person, that's how I maintain a yin/yang relationship with my accessories.

When I turned 12, my mother celebrated this.. stepping into adulthood.. by buying me a bracelet made from freshwater pearls. "Pleeeease don't lose it, " she said while I was admiring it. Guess what, I lost in within the next 24 hours. She pledged to never buy me real jewelry again, and I never wanted real jewelry again. Saving myself future trouble.

Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax

There's this running theory that Africa is still a third world country because it's so flippin' hot.

Take the Europeans, with their snow and shiver temperatures. You're cold. What do you do? You build a house, a fire, invent the lightbulb, the gas heater, thermal underwear, igloos and Horlicks. You invent, develop, store up fat, start a club, indoor sport - it's the fight for survival.
Then you have Africans. Winter is nice and balmy, so you hunt and gather and a nice fire, shagging and uhm buffalo skin is more than enough to keep you warm in the evenings. Summer comes, and it's so soooo fucking hot you can't move. So you eat your share in the morning, find a shady spot, and sleep through the heat if the day. Check what the lions and buffalo skins do. If you're ever on a game drive, or safahahari as the tourists call it, don't go look for the Big 5 around noon. Firstly, because you'll pass out from heat exhaustion, and secondly because they'll all be sleeping in mud pits and under trees.

On an after-noon game drive at Loskopdam, the only animal we saw up close was a dead warthog. Like Puumba. Apparently the pork industry kinda took a knock after the release of Babe. Lots of kids all over the world quitting bacon. Heehee. Wonder if Finding Nemo did the same for the fish industry.

Orthodox Indoctrination

I buy a Sunday Times every Sunday, and read it throughout the week, not missing an article. Like slow-release tablets, it nourishes me for much longer than the name suggests.

Yesterday I came across an article that had me laughing in disbelief. There's a lot in the daily news that tests my comprehension, but because this article touched the mentality of the community I was raised in, it meant so much more.
Some highlights:

Women have been shut out of most leadership poitions in one of the country's most orthodox afrikaans churches.This decision comes after nearly two weeks of men-only debate by almost 300 church members at a synod in Potchefstroom in the North-West.......
In a report, church minister danie Snyman said that. based on the Bible, the man was the head of the household."A woman may not be in an authorative, instructive or ruling position over a man. A woman's right to speak is limited," he said.....
Snyman, the minister at Magalieskruin in Pretoria, said while he could stomach woman deacons, he would probably leave the church if it accepted women minsters."The way i understand the Bible, it's a sin for a woman to be a minister," he said....
Sitting quietly at the back of the synod meeting this week, was Ronel Pieterse - who preaches at a Dutch reformed Church congregation.As the men handed out yellow A4 voting sheets to other men, she wasn't given any.

I guess segregation and manipulation are still very much alive, even though I'd love it not to be.

More Domestic Ramble

As I'm withdrawing money, I get a double surprise: Firstly I find out I have more money in my account than I thought I had, then I look up into D - a local connection-'s (punctuation effective?) face. We roll our trolleys into the PnP together, and I realise that this is the first time since I moved here that I'm shopping -with- someone. Running in with someone to get cigs or wine doesn't count. Leisurely strolleying down the aisles while chatting. D has nothing of significance to say. He doesn't talk much. Actually he does talk; he keeps mumbling while in front of me, and when I ask him "eh?", he just replies: "No. Nothing." So I never get to hear what he says between the brumbles. I suspect I'm not missing out on much though,

 

Again I'm aware of the glaring differences - the me vs. them complex. I'm getting really good at this spot-the-difference game. To my trolley I add Litchis from Tzaneen, Mangoes from Hoedspruit, Red wine from Stellenbosch and grapefruit juice from Parmalat. His trolley gets fatty red meat and a 2 litre bottle of Coca Cola. For dessert I get a packet of wine gums, while he gets a bag of chips. Maybe my lifestyle is not as bad as I sometimes fear it to be.

No Title Required

What a neat function. Blogging from my e-mail. Now I don't even have to connect to Da Net. I've been connecting to the www from someone else's account; recklessly, frequently, bloggingly. Then the girl whose account I've been using (not out of malice, but out of comfort - her name & password has been on my pc for months now) noticed my loophole, and changed the login to my name & password, with the threatening words "Big Bother Is Watching".

 

Blahblahblah this is actually a reply to the zillion comments I got from W in my inbox. Hallo, focus a little bit.

 

Re: Titles - you just.. fill in the little block at the top, the rectangular one, the one that's there for your title field..?

 

Re: Paragraphs - Hey! I have no idea. But I'm super-chuffed. It re-appeared as suddenly as it disappeared. Might have somehting to do with the fact that I composed in the HTML function, not that I know any computer languages..

 

Re: Pic - I have no idea what pic you are referring to. But I'll check back later to see which post you commented it on. Pic.. Pic pic pic? I don't know.

 

raait nê? Bonne journee Mkoswami.

Yesssss!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Sisters and Bretheren...

 

Bask in die functionality of my resurrected paragraphs.

Walala Wasala

Recently I have been entertaining the thought to have my own business somewhere in the future. My ideal, of course, would be to have my own winery or olive farm, but I'll probably have to win the lotto before I'll manage that one. Then I'll have to start playing the lotto. I actually dreamt some lotto numbers last night, and a slithering heap of the most horrific reptiles in my shower. But that's besides the point.

For a business to work, you need to identify a gap in the market. I've been struggling a lot to get packaging for my products, and saw it as a gap in the market. And because the whole economic world is China crazy, my idea was to be an intermediary between a Chinese packaging company and South Africa. But one day, at the moment I've got other selfish plans. The Chinese do cheap, intricately designed, beautiful paper and foil packaging. It made so much sense.

Today I had yet another packaging crisis, but my furstrations were halved and then quadrupled when I heard that, not to worry, there's a new guy in the business who has hooked up with a connex from China, and will soon be importing cheap, intricately designed packaging in paper and foil. Shite!

But starting my own business is not for me, not now. I know nil-per-brain about business in any case. Haven't even read my copy of 'Rich dad, Poor dad'. I've got some good friends / connections, cause it's about who you know, you know? And they offered to help me, but later, later. No idea where the next 3 years is going to take me, but it's not going to be as the head of a company.

As for the China import/export idea: you snooze, you lose. Or, as I prefer it in isiZulu: walala wasala. My other favourite Zulu expression is zonke bonke which means something in the line of 'everything for everybody'. It's the slogan of the biggest funeral house. Death is a lucrative business in AIDS country.

It's almost the beginning of a new year.. In Chinese terms, that is. We are soon saying hamba kathle to the year of the Rooster (mine, by the way), and sawubona to the Year of the Dog.

This 'ere temple in the picture is just around my corner; even closer that Checkers. Last year, I went to one of their weekend retreats which was exhausting and cleansing at the same time. I'd love to do it again, we'll see. After the weekend, I was feeling so enlightened and stuff that I added my name to the volunteer list.

With the up-and-coming Chinese New Year celebration (29 Jan), the temple lady phoned me and asked whether I'd be willing to help out. But of course! I said. She filled in details by saying that I'd have to be available to answer questions people might have, so I'll need to go for a little briefing session. This is grand, because I'll get to hear the symbolism behind all the buddhas and lions with the bells in their mouths. Then she invited me for a lunch on the Saturday, oh and why don't you sleep over at the temple as well? Retreat from the real world for a day or two. So I'm gonna do it.

Today I asked W to join me. He'll be leaving for London soon, and I won't be seeing him for ages to come, plus his head is shaved, so he'll fit right in. Dunno what I'll be doing with myself if I had to walk around on my own the whole time. It's not like people are there to make small talk. And no girls. I'll probably end up staring the pretty buddhist boy out of his robes, and feeling a hell of a guilty for even thinking it.

Yoi ichinichi o

The difference between people. My colleagues and I are both on google images. I'm trying to find an image that depicts interconnectedness, while the two of them are ogling pictures of flower arrangements and wedding dresses.
I know I talk about me vs them a lot, but it's the effect of my environment. Stay in a place long enough, and you become one of its people. It rubs off on you. And between half of my matric class and all of my pregnant colleagues, it was inevitable that I started doubting whether or not I chose the right path. I don't know anyone like me. And I'll take that as a compliment.

See, these moments of self-doubt normally don't last longer than an ad-break. But I'm back, hello! and the point of this post was not to wonder about my normality, but to appreciate the people whose paths have crossed, and sometimes intertwined with mine.

I decided not to blog (for like a day) because of various reasons, the main one being that (as an effect of my environment) I've started posting about cleaning products and handwashing. And yesterday, washing wineglasses, I caught myself lazily composing another entry in my head. At that point I realised that I really do need to get a life. After which I realised that hectic times are on the horizon, I'm just too impatient to wait for them.

Change of job (within the company), February brings with it a three month TEFL course in JHB which means new people, new routine, new student card, JET on the horison.. acronym anyone? And my friend Gert is treating me to some lobster tomorrow evening, driving all the way to Deadville, SA to come see me. It's gonna be good.

Humanism
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
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Humanism is a broad category of active ethical philosophies that affirm the dignity and worth of all people, based on our ability to determine what is right using the qualities innate to humanity, particularly rationality. Humanism is a component of a variety of more specific philosophical systems.


I though of labelling myself as a Humanist. Cause I like humans, and stuff. No, actually because the only thing that makes me lash-out angry is when people look down on others because they are different. To quote Tom Robbins, "there is no such thing as a weird human being - it's just that some people require more understanding that others".
Although I'm sure my Humanism thing came from a racial segregation weekend issue, I still like that quote.

Maybe I'm a bit like Princess Leigh-Cheri in the fact that I just want to buy the world a Coke.

Which Side Are You On?

Being the product of a male chemical engineer and a female art teacher, I've found myself torn between left brain and right brain my whole life. Do I create, or do I maintain? Do I go for sciences, or arts? Do I dream, or do I do? It was because of this see-saw of thinking that I ended up in New Product Developement, which promised to require functional creativity. On paper, that's what it is. In reality, I'm so bored that I blog to pass time.

So last night I was having my weekend conversation with my mother over the phone. It's the start of a new academic year, and she has a new class of confused 14-year olds who believe they cannot draw, but she'll prove them wrong in 4-6 weeks. So she tells me, as she's explaining the left-brain/right-brain concept to them, she realised that this has been the way she raised her kids (biological). When we steered too much to right-brain activity, she pulled out some logic; when we were over-analysing, she handed us crayons.

A beautiful balance, but it's so much easier to be inclined towards the one side. The problem with infinite options, is that you get lost in them.

So, har-har, we talk and laugh about brains lobes and the like, when she comments: "You know, sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have just dropped you at day care like the other mothers. I really over-stimulated your brain at such a young age. Maybe, if I did, you wouldn't have grown up to be so screwed up."

I'm sure she meant that in the nicest way possible.