Tuesday 27 November 2012
Tuesday 20 November 2012
Closer Now Than Light Years Ago
A fresh new look, a fresh new month, a fresh new name. Welcome back, boys and girls. I dipped off the radar for a while but I rest assured that all of you missed me and spent the last two and a half months eagerly waiting my return. I guarantee you that I am just as excited to be back as you are to have me back. I considered starting yet another blog from scratch but then I remembered that life is about accepting and building on your past rather than running from it. Slightly dramatic, yes, but you get the general idea.
And if you are a Design student, for the love of God, DON'T LEAVE IT UNTIL THE LAST FUCKING MINUTE.
So, it brings me great pleasure to introduce to you the blog formally known as Automatic for the People. You know it! You love it! Ladies and gentlemen, Blog Number Five!
[the crowd goes wild]
Like most things in life, as this blog is just beginning, another aspect of my life is ending. Another Kim Kardashian marriage? Probably. The Twilight Saga? Yes, thank God, but that is not what this post is about. In six days, I will have written my last final exam and my 13 years of primary schooling will have officially come to an end.
High school in particular does this funny thing where it feels like it takes a million years for 7:45 to turn into 14:30, but when you look back, you realise how quickly five years has flown by. Not all of my friends agree with me, but I truly can't believe it's already over.
I think of all the forgotten jokes, all of the excuses given to teachers as to why I didn't have my homework, all of the breaks spent at the Matric benches (this year, at least), all of the pointless drama that seemed so important at the time, all of the pens I've leant out that I've never seen again, all of the pens people leant to me that they never saw again, all of the claiming-a-free's, all of the Cafe Flava food, all of the mischief that my grade got up to, all of the people that have changed me in one way or another along the way, all of the bonds made, all of the lost notes, all of the hilariously stressful days before a Design project was due, all of the alcohol inspired misadventures, all of the not-giving-a-fuck's, all of the times during the soccer and rugby World Cups when the entire school would pack in Cafe Flava to watch the matches, all of the five-a-side soccer tournaments, all of the did-you-see-her-camel-toe-today's, all of the all nighters, all of the uniform inspections, all of the assemblies, all of the early morning tutorials, all of the double maths', all of the camps, all of the things that changed and all of the things that stayed the same, and I find myself unable to believe the fact that it's already over.
I think of how all of my dearest and most distant memories feel as though I lived them just five minutes ago. I think of how I never thought it would ever end, and ask myself, "It's over already? Didn't it just begin?"
I cannot speak for anyone else in my grade - we're all dealing with this a little differently. Some could not be more ready to put their high school years behind them, and I guess others wish they could go back to the start. I find myself somewhere in the middle of those two notions. I could not be more pleased that, come 5pm this Friday, I'll never have to do Afrikaans again, and I can't exactly say that I'm going to miss those double Maths periods, but I can't deny that I'm already nostalgic for the past three years of my life. They truly were the three greatest years I could have asked for. I've grown and changed so much and the reasons for that are the situations I was put in and the people who were there with me.
To future matrics, I leave the following incredibly clichéd advice:
Understand that High School will end, and that once it has ended, there's no going back. Don't waste time fighting with people. If you want them in your life, make up with them; if you don't, let them go. Study hard. A little effort and tenacity never hurt anybody. Party hard. Plan for the future, but live for the moment. Leave your past behind you. It's never too soon for you to turn things around.
Never be too afraid to laugh, and never be too afraid to cry. Let your friends know how much they mean to you. Treasure every single second you spend with them. Respect your teachers, respect your peers, respect yourself. Cherish every single memory, regardless of whether it's good or bad. Learn from your mistakes and make better mistakes next time.
High school in particular does this funny thing where it feels like it takes a million years for 7:45 to turn into 14:30, but when you look back, you realise how quickly five years has flown by. Not all of my friends agree with me, but I truly can't believe it's already over.
I think of all the forgotten jokes, all of the excuses given to teachers as to why I didn't have my homework, all of the breaks spent at the Matric benches (this year, at least), all of the pointless drama that seemed so important at the time, all of the pens I've leant out that I've never seen again, all of the pens people leant to me that they never saw again, all of the claiming-a-free's, all of the Cafe Flava food, all of the mischief that my grade got up to, all of the people that have changed me in one way or another along the way, all of the bonds made, all of the lost notes, all of the hilariously stressful days before a Design project was due, all of the alcohol inspired misadventures, all of the not-giving-a-fuck's, all of the times during the soccer and rugby World Cups when the entire school would pack in Cafe Flava to watch the matches, all of the five-a-side soccer tournaments, all of the did-you-see-her-camel-toe-today's, all of the all nighters, all of the uniform inspections, all of the assemblies, all of the early morning tutorials, all of the double maths', all of the camps, all of the things that changed and all of the things that stayed the same, and I find myself unable to believe the fact that it's already over.
I think of how all of my dearest and most distant memories feel as though I lived them just five minutes ago. I think of how I never thought it would ever end, and ask myself, "It's over already? Didn't it just begin?"
I cannot speak for anyone else in my grade - we're all dealing with this a little differently. Some could not be more ready to put their high school years behind them, and I guess others wish they could go back to the start. I find myself somewhere in the middle of those two notions. I could not be more pleased that, come 5pm this Friday, I'll never have to do Afrikaans again, and I can't exactly say that I'm going to miss those double Maths periods, but I can't deny that I'm already nostalgic for the past three years of my life. They truly were the three greatest years I could have asked for. I've grown and changed so much and the reasons for that are the situations I was put in and the people who were there with me.
To future matrics, I leave the following incredibly clichéd advice:
Understand that High School will end, and that once it has ended, there's no going back. Don't waste time fighting with people. If you want them in your life, make up with them; if you don't, let them go. Study hard. A little effort and tenacity never hurt anybody. Party hard. Plan for the future, but live for the moment. Leave your past behind you. It's never too soon for you to turn things around.
Never be too afraid to laugh, and never be too afraid to cry. Let your friends know how much they mean to you. Treasure every single second you spend with them. Respect your teachers, respect your peers, respect yourself. Cherish every single memory, regardless of whether it's good or bad. Learn from your mistakes and make better mistakes next time.
And if you are a Design student, for the love of God, DON'T LEAVE IT UNTIL THE LAST FUCKING MINUTE.
Sunday 30 September 2012
Sunday 12 August 2012
Gold or Bust - The US WNT
(This is going to be a really long post. As long as The Dark Knight Rises? Perhaps. Sorry I'm not sorry)
My last entry was posted on the day of the Opening Ceremony for the London 2012 Olympics, and today, the day of this entry, is the day that the Games come to an end. The Olympics as a whole has been terrific and exciting and filled with an abundance of different emotions, felt by the athletes, their families and coaches, and, of course, the fans. The Opening Ceremony was brilliant and I believe that it perfectly portrayed English history: from Mr Bean to the Queen sky-diving in with James Bond, from the Industrial Revolution to the birth of the technological era, from the nurses of World War 2 to the journey of the Olympic torch, and everything in between. Personally, I would have loved to have seen the Queen say, "May the odds be ever in your favour," and then lock everyone in the stadium until only one remains, but we don't always get what we want and what we got was rather spectacular nonetheless.
For three weeks, millions of people crammed into stadiums and onto couches in front TV's to watch some of the fastest, strongest, most agile people on Earth. We watched as Chad le Clos defeated Michael Phelps by four hundredths of a second in a stunning upset to win the gold medal, we watched as Usain Bolt dominated, once again, in the track events, and we watched as the Chinese and the Americans swept the floor of the majority of events to secure themselves the top two places in the medal standings. We watched as the young teenagers made their names known, we watched as dreams were realised and hearts were broken, and we watched as the world came together in one of the greatest sporting events in history.
However, in the midst of all the various sports that take place during the momentous Games, I think that everyone has a favourite. For some, it's the track events, for others, it's the water based events, for many, it's the gymnastics, but for me, and proudly so, it's the women's soccer.
Now, this is the part where I go on a rave about my team so if you're not going to be interested in what I'm about to say: 1). Why are you even here? and 2). Gtfo.
"My team" is the United States Women's National Team. And I'm not just talking about my "women" team. No. This is my team, above any other women or men's team. Yes, I know I'm not American, but the support and the passion that I have for this group of girls is somewhat abnormal, borderline unhealthy, and critics may even call it obsessive. But! I don't let the haters stop me from doin' my thang. I have been looking forward to watching these women play in the Olympics since this time last year, when they came second in the World Cup after a heart-breaking loss on penalties against Japan. I don't really know how I can put my love for the USWNT and everything that they have done in the last three weeks into words, so I'm going to let my tweets taken from the time of some of the games speak for me:
YEEESSSSS!!!!!!!! The#USWNT games are being televised here, starting with their opener at 6pm tonight!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D SO! FUCKING! AMPED!
AND AND AND!!! WE GOT THE GREATEST STARTING LINE-UP ON!!! :D SOLO! RAMPONE! KAO! BOXXY! CHENEY! TOBIN!!!!!! PINOE! MORGAN!!!!! AND WAMBACH!!
I'm fully aware that not one of you cares, but this is the highlight of my year, so y'all and all of my homework can mize. LET'S DO THIS!!!!
NO ONE HAS EVER FELT THIS MUCH EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THERE THEY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!! I'VE BEEN WAITING A YEAR FOR THIS MOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *faints*
ABBY AND ALEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YYYYUUUUUUSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CARLI LLOYDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALEX MORGAN AND TOBIN HEATH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Forever in awe of@hopesolo.
A-Rod, let's go!
6 August - Semifinal vs. Canada#USAvFRA:#USWNT win 4-2. Two goals from Morgan, one from Lloyd, and one from Wambach. I'll take it!!! :D#Happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy
I just can't take this!!! I can't!!!#USWNT#USAvCAN
HOPE SOLO, YOU WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING!!!
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALEX MORGAN!!!!!!!! IN THE 123RD MINUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MY TEAM!!!!!!!! MY FUCKING TEAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#USWNT#USWNT#USWNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T EVEN!!!!!!! WE'RE IN THE FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NEVER SAY DIE!!!!!!! USA SPIRIT!!!!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!!!!!! LITERALLY IN THE LAST 20 SECONDS ALEX SCORES!!!! USA!!!!!! 4-3!!!!!!!!!!
*faints*
This is one of the greatest moments of 2012 for me. Nothing can ruin this. Alex Morgan, you are perfection. USWNT, you are perfection.
Let me just bask in the glory of this moment and tomorrow I can start preparing to go through it all over again on Thursday.9 August 2012 - Final vs. Japan
Game time. Let's do this USA.
GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tobin to Alex to Carli with the header!!!! (Yes. First names will be used)
Hope Solo. Hope Solo. Hope Solo. I can't even.
Shit man. Can you imagine what I'd be like if I was actually at the game? I'd fangirl out and faint within the first 5 minutes.#USAvJPN
Hope's just like, "Oh. Sorry, were you trying to score? Lol. That's not happening. Oh, the ball? Thanks, I'll take that."#USAvJPN
And the crossbar's like, "Oh, Hope. Don't you worry your pretty little self, I'll get that for you."#USAvJPN
@TobinHeath is doing some great, great things tonight, you guys.#USAvJPN
AND THAT'S TWO FOR CARLI LLOYD!!!! WHAT WHAAAAT!!!!! 2-0!!!#USAvJPN#USAForGold
Kelley O'Hara's face when the second goal was scored. :) ♥#Whatacutie#USAvJPN
2-1. It's chilled. It's all chilled.
Christie Rampone. Captain America if ever there was one. *bows at her feet*#USAvJPN
YOU ESS AY! YOU ESS AY! YOU ESS AY!
I just can't take this right now.#USAvJPN
HOPE SOLO I CAN'T EVEN ARE YOU EVEN HUMAN WHAT IS THIS AMERICA'S HERO IS FUCKING RIGHT MR COMMENTATOR AMERICA'S HERO IS RIGHT!!!!!
So close!!!
THIRTY SECONDS LEFT!!!
OLYMPIC GOLD MEDALISTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY INCREDIBLE BEAUTIFUL CHAMPION TEAM!!!!!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
"Greatness has been found." HELL YEAH IT HAS!!!! Happy happy happy happy. :) You know, this team deserves it. That's all I can say.#USWNT ♥
11 August - Two days later@hopesolo and@TobinHeath trending WORLDWIDE!!! THAT'S. WHAT'S. UP! http://yfrog.com/nyu7fgnj
Post-Well, there you have it. My Olympic journey. Now I'll just have to be satisfied with YouTube videos of the team (which are HILARIOUS, by the way), live web casts of matches, stalking them on Twitter from time to time, re-watching recorded and locked matches time and time again, and saving up the money to go to the 2015 Fifa Women's World Cup in Canada (mark my words, I will be there, regardless of who I have to sleep with or what degrading work I have to do to get that plane ticket, I will do it) and the 2016 Olympics in Rio (previous bracket applies).#USWNT depression. It will be at least three years before I see them on my tv screen again; leave me to mourn.
Friday 27 July 2012
It's a Melancholic Kind of Feeling
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| (Taken from hyperboleandahalf.com) |
Right now, I want:
A brownie
A warmer bed
To be cuddled
But apparently that's too much to ask for, so, for now, I'll just have to be content with Colbie and the Olympics, which aren't too bad, I guess.
Colbie and the Olympics. Pretty cool band name, me thinks.
Saturday 21 July 2012
16. Watch The Notebook
"I am no one special; just a common man with common thoughts. I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect, I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and for me, that has always been enough."
Aaaand I'm crying.
The reason that I put "Watch The Notebook" on my Bucket List is threefold:
Aaaand I'm crying.
The reason that I put "Watch The Notebook" on my Bucket List is threefold:
- Pretty much every girl and her grandmother has watched The Notebook, and I felt a little left out. Subsequently, I knew that this particular romantic drama was a bit of a tearjerker, and I challenged myself not to cry (I failed miserably, but we'll get to that later)
- I was hoping to catch the Ryan Gosling fever that exists within the hearts, souls, and loins of most of my friends, which is something that I've never been able to understand
- I seriously needed to find out what the fuck "If you're a bird, I'm a bird" meant
Nicole picked me up from my house at around 1pm today, and we went to Lonehill shopping centre. I had no idea what we were doing there, and I had no idea what we would be doing for the rest of the day as she had made it a point to keep it a secret for ages. When we walked into the video store, she told me to stand on the other side of the shop while she rented a DVD, and then she drove us back to her house. After a tense and violent argument regarding whether or not I had asked for ice in my coke light (knives were drawn) (okay, that's a lie), she popped in the DVD and it all made sense. I was there to finally watch The Notebook.
"Do you want me to get you tissues?"
"I don't know, will I need them?"
Yes. Yes, I needed them. I started crying when Allie broke up with Noah and then changed her mind as soon as he started driving away, and I stopped crying when... Oh. No, wait.
When I got home, and after I thought I had no more tears left, my mom asked me to tell her what the movie was about. The waterworks came back on sometime around "Well, it started off with..." I don't know why the movie affected me so much. Maybe it was because I can't decide whether it was heartbreakingly sad or triumphantly happy. Maybe it was because it was the truest portrayal of an everlasting love that I have ever seen. Or maybe it's because
Oh, sorry, wrong Rachel McAdams movie. Oh, and on the subject of Rachel McAdams, she is so perfect and beautiful that she somehow has me both in love with her and wanting to jump off a cliff at the same time. And did I catch the Ryan Gosling fever? Yes. Yes, I did. I still see him as a horse-looking murderer (considering the fact that the first movie that I ever saw him in was 'All Good Things'... in which he played a murderer and, in my eyes, that will stay with him forever), but now, he is an incredibly attractive and perfect horse-looking murderer.
All in all, I loved it. The story of Allie and Noah was so enchanting and pure that it could melt even the hardest of hearts.
And now my mom wants to watch it with me, and I don't know if I can do that...
Because there's a sex scene and that's awkward.
Wednesday 11 July 2012
California Dreamin'
Most of my time this morning was spent elbow-deep in tissues and trying to sneak the off-limit medication from the medicine cabinet. I know what you're thinking: "off-limit medication"? Well, okay, it's not so much "off-limits" as it is that my mom believes that all I need to do is drink water with this white dissolving tablet thing twice a day and my flu will be as good as gone in no time. My mom's one of those "let's let nature handle it instead of doing the normal and practical thing" kind of people, so, right now, she's kind of refusing to give me any other medicine, so I've been forced to fend for myself. Anyway.
The point of today's post is to tell you, whoever you are, about my more-than-likely misguided love of California. I went to Los Angeles and San Francisco this time last year, in between jetting from New York and to Washington DC, but I only spent about three or four days in either city which is nowhere near enough time to truly get to know a place. Nevertheless, a deep and impenetrable love for the Golden State developed and grew and transformed into a relentless longing for a place that is entirely foreign to me. Most of what I know about Cali (yeah, I just said that) is the highly romanticised portrayal of the American West Coast in movies and songs and pictures that I've collected over time and that you'll see situated below, but that alone has been enough to ignite a sense of familiarity for a place which, apart from eight days of the briefest of tourists' experiences, I've essentially never truly been to.
One day I will live there, maybe in Santa Cruz or Santa Monica. My heart and my soul will always belong to South Africa, but, right now, my thoughts belong to California.
Stroke Identification
Okay, so whereas some of my post titles are and will sometimes be ambiguous and philosophical and all that jazz, this title, "Stroke Identification", is straight to the point. I was on Tumblr this morning and I came across a post that detailed how to recognise a stroke. It's easy to remember, and unlike all those "like this post and show that you, sitting there in that chair, are against a no longer relevant Ugandan tyrant (and I could be referring to any number of no longer relevant Ugandan tyrants, here)", this could actually save a life:
"STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
During a party, a friend stumbled and took a little fall - she assured everyone that she was fine and just tripped over a brick because of her new shoes. (they offered to call ambulance)
They got her cleaned up and got her a new plate of food - while she appeared a bit shaken up, Ingrid went about enjoying herself the rest of the evening. Ingrid’s husband called later telling everyone that his wife had been taken to the hospital - (at 6:00pm , Ingrid passed away.)
She had suffered a stroke at the party . Had they known how to identify the signs of a stroke, perhaps Ingrid would be with us today.
Some don’t die. They end up in a helpless, hopeless condition instead. It only takes a minute to read this…
STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
A neurologist says that if he can get to a stroke victim within 3 hours he can totally reverse the effects of a stroke…totally. He said the trick was getting a stroke recognized, diagnosed, and then getting the patient medically cared for within 3 hours, which is tough.
RECOGNIZING A STROKE
Remember the first three letters of "Stroke", S, T, and R, these are the three steps. Read and Learn!
Sometimes symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify. Unfortunately, the lack of awareness spells disaster.
The stroke victim may suffer severe brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize the symptoms of a stroke.
Now, doctors say a bystander can recognize a stroke by asking three simple questions :
S * Ask the individual to SMILE ..
T * = TALK. Ask the person to SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE (Coherently) (eg ‘It is sunny out today’).
R * Ask him or her to RAISE BOTH ARMS .
If he or she has trouble with ANY ONE of these tasks, call the ambulance and describe the symptoms to the dispatcher.
NOTE : Another ‘sign’ of a stroke is
1. Ask the person to ‘stick’ out their tongue.
2. If the tongue is ‘crooked’, if it goes to one side or the other that is also an indication of a stroke.
A prominent cardiologist says if everyone who gets this e-mail sends it to 10 people; you can bet that at least one life will be saved.
And it could be your own."
"STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
During a party, a friend stumbled and took a little fall - she assured everyone that she was fine and just tripped over a brick because of her new shoes. (they offered to call ambulance)
They got her cleaned up and got her a new plate of food - while she appeared a bit shaken up, Ingrid went about enjoying herself the rest of the evening. Ingrid’s husband called later telling everyone that his wife had been taken to the hospital - (at 6:00pm , Ingrid passed away.)
She had suffered a stroke at the party . Had they known how to identify the signs of a stroke, perhaps Ingrid would be with us today.
Some don’t die. They end up in a helpless, hopeless condition instead. It only takes a minute to read this…
STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
A neurologist says that if he can get to a stroke victim within 3 hours he can totally reverse the effects of a stroke…totally. He said the trick was getting a stroke recognized, diagnosed, and then getting the patient medically cared for within 3 hours, which is tough.
RECOGNIZING A STROKE
Remember the first three letters of "Stroke", S, T, and R, these are the three steps. Read and Learn!
Sometimes symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify. Unfortunately, the lack of awareness spells disaster.
The stroke victim may suffer severe brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize the symptoms of a stroke.
Now, doctors say a bystander can recognize a stroke by asking three simple questions :
S * Ask the individual to SMILE ..
T * = TALK. Ask the person to SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE (Coherently) (eg ‘It is sunny out today’).
R * Ask him or her to RAISE BOTH ARMS .
If he or she has trouble with ANY ONE of these tasks, call the ambulance and describe the symptoms to the dispatcher.
NOTE : Another ‘sign’ of a stroke is
1. Ask the person to ‘stick’ out their tongue.
2. If the tongue is ‘crooked’, if it goes to one side or the other that is also an indication of a stroke.
A prominent cardiologist says if everyone who gets this e-mail sends it to 10 people; you can bet that at least one life will be saved.
And it could be your own."
Tuesday 10 July 2012
To My Friends
If I ever push you away, I really don't mean to. When I tell you that I don't want to talk about it, I do; I'm just looking for the right words. Give me a minute, and if I can tell you, I will. I try to be a struggling mix of real and perfect at the same time, whilst simultaneously succeeding at failing at being either. Most times I try to just pass for adequate. When I get really quiet, it's because I have too much to say. I have thought of too many things to tell you all at once, and I don't know what to say first. Sometimes I get sad because I know that I don't really fit in anywhere, but at the same time I feel hopeful because I know that one day I will find a place where I truly belong. And I am anxious because I'm not entirely sure that I truly ever want to fit in.
I get immaturely jealous of anyone who gets to see you on a daily basis.
That's not the only way that I can be immature, though. I have a childish mind. A very childish mind. I don't talk about the same things that other people do and I don't think the same way that other people do, and I'm not saying that I'm the only one. There's nothing special about who I am or how I am, it's just different from you, I guess. I see things differently and I appreciate my childish ways because they make life a lot simpler. But, sometimes, I wish I could be more grown up, because grown ups don't say stupid things or do stupid things and embarrass themselves. And grown ups know what they're doing, or at least they're able to trick people into believing that they know what they're doing. I'm kind of a loose cannon.
I change my mind, a lot. The dreams that I dream and the plans that I have for my life are ridiculous, and even I am realistic enough to accept that they won't all come true, but I'm too stubborn to stop dreaming. And I'm too stubborn to completely lose hope in my belief that, somehow, there has to be a chance for my dreams. I don't want to disappoint you. I want to surprise you. And I want to make you proud and I want you to be happy.
Because of you, I am more whole than I have ever been in my entire life, but I still feel incomplete. Don't take that the wrong way. I don't know what it is that's missing, but I'll know what it is when it's not missing anymore. I'm easily influenced by clichéd romantic comedies and love songs, so I've been lead to believe that the thing that's missing is love. I'm naïve. I believe in true love. I believe in love in first sight. I believe in an everlasting love, even though I have yet to experience any of those things.
Sometimes I feel better when I am alone, and sometimes I feel better when I am with you. Either way, I miss you really easily, but I also like that we can be apart, and we're both okay. Space is good, too. I love the way we love some of the same things. And I love how we love entirely different things. My head is a complicated pile of thoughts, and fears, and cravings, and dreams, and this tangled up nostalgia for the past and, somehow, the future. I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying. I am one person and I am two hands and I am one heart and I am one very confused and muddled up mind.
And I love you and I am so glad that you are here.
I get immaturely jealous of anyone who gets to see you on a daily basis.
That's not the only way that I can be immature, though. I have a childish mind. A very childish mind. I don't talk about the same things that other people do and I don't think the same way that other people do, and I'm not saying that I'm the only one. There's nothing special about who I am or how I am, it's just different from you, I guess. I see things differently and I appreciate my childish ways because they make life a lot simpler. But, sometimes, I wish I could be more grown up, because grown ups don't say stupid things or do stupid things and embarrass themselves. And grown ups know what they're doing, or at least they're able to trick people into believing that they know what they're doing. I'm kind of a loose cannon.
I change my mind, a lot. The dreams that I dream and the plans that I have for my life are ridiculous, and even I am realistic enough to accept that they won't all come true, but I'm too stubborn to stop dreaming. And I'm too stubborn to completely lose hope in my belief that, somehow, there has to be a chance for my dreams. I don't want to disappoint you. I want to surprise you. And I want to make you proud and I want you to be happy.
Because of you, I am more whole than I have ever been in my entire life, but I still feel incomplete. Don't take that the wrong way. I don't know what it is that's missing, but I'll know what it is when it's not missing anymore. I'm easily influenced by clichéd romantic comedies and love songs, so I've been lead to believe that the thing that's missing is love. I'm naïve. I believe in true love. I believe in love in first sight. I believe in an everlasting love, even though I have yet to experience any of those things.
Sometimes I feel better when I am alone, and sometimes I feel better when I am with you. Either way, I miss you really easily, but I also like that we can be apart, and we're both okay. Space is good, too. I love the way we love some of the same things. And I love how we love entirely different things. My head is a complicated pile of thoughts, and fears, and cravings, and dreams, and this tangled up nostalgia for the past and, somehow, the future. I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying. I am one person and I am two hands and I am one heart and I am one very confused and muddled up mind.
And I love you and I am so glad that you are here.
It's Gonna Take A Lot To Drag Me Away From You
This is not my own creation, but it was so lovely and truthfully pure that I had to share it.
Monday 9 July 2012
EarthChild's Birthday
"Just because you can't dance, doesn't mean you shouldn't dance." - Alcohol
On the 6th of July, Bad Bitch Claudia turned 18 years old. We partied it up at *Manjocksville until the wee hours of the morning, delighting ourselves in shots of Cane (I still remained true to the Blue Bracelet Vow), 2am boerewors rolls, idle chit-chat, numerous trips to the lumo paint station, more shots of Cane, and out of control dance floor invasions. And hey, you're probably thinking that that sounds rather chilled for an 18th birthday, but you'd be wrong. Let me tell you something about the Bad Bitches: When they go out, this is what they do:
Before you take a look at a few snapshots from the evening, I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout-out to my feet, for getting me through the night/morning and the eighteen holes of golf the following day. It was a rough weekend, buddies, but together, we made it through, and I will never take you for granted again, and I know that you're still feeling the pain, but it will be over soon, I promise. And to you, lovely readers, if you're ever in the cluuurrrb and you're wearing those gorgeous stilettos and you want to cry and there's liquid in your shoe and you don't know whether it's alcohol, a popped blister, or blood (hey, we tell it like it is here at Ignoreland), just do what I did, and keep telling yourself this:
And here's the photographic evidence:
*Pseudonym
(Video clips were taken from Jenna Marbles' video: White Girls at the Club)
Thursday 5 July 2012
A Week's Worth of Conclusions
SATURDAY
Today, I drove my own car all the way to Pretoria and back. Yeah, what now, bitches?
SUNDAY
(At the risk of sounding like the biggest lesbian) "It's a beautiful day for golf at Zwartkop" is my home golf club's slogan, and true to form, it was a wonderful, sunny day. My dad, my brother and I teed off at 11:34am and what followed were five hours of complete pleasure and enjoyment. Let me tell you, golf and I, we have this love-hate relationship. Sometimes, it's a real pain in the ass, sometimes I hate it with a burning passion that festers stronger with every missed putt and every faded drive. But then, sometimes, it can be a real doll. On those perfect days, where the fairways are crisp and the green's are perfectly paced, and my chips land where I actually want them to, and my drives pierce the middle of the fairway to the sound of the resonating silence that comes from hitting "the sweet spot", and when the tricky putts aren't evil enough to stop the ball from reaching its destination, not much can compare.
Conclusion: Golf is a bitchy little whore with good intentions but a severe attitude problem. Like Lindsay Lohan.
MONDAY
Today, everyone went to Ada's house for a little get-together. There was a moment around 1 o'clock in the afternoon when it looked like I wasn't going, but my reliable friends (Ada, Bu, and Tash) came and picked me up from my house in Ada's adorable Milkshake (because her car brings all the boys to the yard). We went back to Ada's house and gradually, one by one, nearly all of the Bad Bitches began to drop by. We ordered pizza, ate macaroons (courtesy of young Joshua, who you will definitely hear more about), and wallowed in merriment (can one do that? Can one actually wallow in merriment? Well, one can now!) Today was the day that I discovered that I should never be given the task of setting up the hub. I just can't deal with that kind of pressure and responsibility.
Conclusion: An afternoon spent with the Bad Bitches in an afternoon well spent.
TUESDAY
Today, I slept over at Sam's house. I watched X-Men: First Class for the first time, marking my first ever X-Men experience, and by George, it was fantastic! I may or may not be obsessively in love with both Professor X and Magneto, and I may or may not have been highly unamused with Mystique's low self-esteem antics. In my opinion, Beast definitely got screwed over when the X-Men were created. I mean, he literally (I mean, not literally. Obviously figuratively but you know what I mean) got kicked in the balls by Marvel Comics. They were like, "Shit, man. We need an animal. I know, let's give this nerd kid lizard feet while every other mutant gets cool powers like the ability to read minds or manipulate metal, and as if that isn't bad enough, we'll completely fuck up his life by turning him into a giant blue teddy bear."
And then we watched the Princess and the Frog, and gosh darn it, did that make me happy. That's classic Disney, right there.
Conclusion: Who needs school when the most important lessons in life can be taught to us by animated movies directed at children aged 3-12? Also, could Michael Fassbender and/or James McAvoy please have my children?
WEDNESDAY
Nothing exciting happened today.
TH-
JUST KIDDING!
SAMANTHA PASSED HER DRIVER'S TEST! We drove into the testing station at 6:35am, and left at 9:15am. She drove in there - just another reckless and dangerous learner driver, and drove out - just another reckless and dangerous driver with a license. And guess what? We didn't even have to pay that R1800 bribe that we were offered by a dodgy looking gentleman in a two-tone car. We then drove all the way to Hartebeespoort Dam and back, just for the hell of it. We took Simma (Sam's little sister) to the park to play, and despite the fact that she entered that playground with a perfectly smooth forehead and left it with a bump the size of my fist, Sam and I would make wonderful au pairs, if I do say so myself.
Andandand! Lauren arrived in Johannesburg! She's my friend who lives in Port Elizabeth, which is, like, 273845972345km away, give or take a mile.
Today was also the day that Justin Bieber tweeted that South Africa is on the list of countries that have been included in his Believe Tour. I will comment on this at a later stage.
Conclusion: Just because Samantha has been recognised as a safe and competent driver by the relevant authorities, doesn't necessarily mean that she won't drift off of the road from time to time.
THURSDAY
Today, I bought these:
I know, right? I plan on wearing my lovely new Sexy With Attitude treasures from YDE tomorrow night, as it's Claudia's 18th birthday. You know what that means. Ladies, I hope you're wearing protection (?), because we're about to fuck shit up! Tune in next time to find out if we survived.
Conclusion: For the most part, Sandton City is a bottomless chasm of suck when you have ridiculous standards and no money. Also, never give up. It takes dedication, hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but eventually, you will find that jacket and those shoes.
Today, I drove my own car all the way to Pretoria and back. Yeah, what now, bitches?
Conclusion: FUCK THE PO-LICE!
(At the risk of sounding like the biggest lesbian) "It's a beautiful day for golf at Zwartkop" is my home golf club's slogan, and true to form, it was a wonderful, sunny day. My dad, my brother and I teed off at 11:34am and what followed were five hours of complete pleasure and enjoyment. Let me tell you, golf and I, we have this love-hate relationship. Sometimes, it's a real pain in the ass, sometimes I hate it with a burning passion that festers stronger with every missed putt and every faded drive. But then, sometimes, it can be a real doll. On those perfect days, where the fairways are crisp and the green's are perfectly paced, and my chips land where I actually want them to, and my drives pierce the middle of the fairway to the sound of the resonating silence that comes from hitting "the sweet spot", and when the tricky putts aren't evil enough to stop the ball from reaching its destination, not much can compare.
Conclusion: Golf is a bitchy little whore with good intentions but a severe attitude problem. Like Lindsay Lohan.
MONDAY
Today, everyone went to Ada's house for a little get-together. There was a moment around 1 o'clock in the afternoon when it looked like I wasn't going, but my reliable friends (Ada, Bu, and Tash) came and picked me up from my house in Ada's adorable Milkshake (because her car brings all the boys to the yard). We went back to Ada's house and gradually, one by one, nearly all of the Bad Bitches began to drop by. We ordered pizza, ate macaroons (courtesy of young Joshua, who you will definitely hear more about), and wallowed in merriment (can one do that? Can one actually wallow in merriment? Well, one can now!) Today was the day that I discovered that I should never be given the task of setting up the hub. I just can't deal with that kind of pressure and responsibility.
Conclusion: An afternoon spent with the Bad Bitches in an afternoon well spent.
TUESDAY
Today, I slept over at Sam's house. I watched X-Men: First Class for the first time, marking my first ever X-Men experience, and by George, it was fantastic! I may or may not be obsessively in love with both Professor X and Magneto, and I may or may not have been highly unamused with Mystique's low self-esteem antics. In my opinion, Beast definitely got screwed over when the X-Men were created. I mean, he literally (I mean, not literally. Obviously figuratively but you know what I mean) got kicked in the balls by Marvel Comics. They were like, "Shit, man. We need an animal. I know, let's give this nerd kid lizard feet while every other mutant gets cool powers like the ability to read minds or manipulate metal, and as if that isn't bad enough, we'll completely fuck up his life by turning him into a giant blue teddy bear."
And then we watched the Princess and the Frog, and gosh darn it, did that make me happy. That's classic Disney, right there.
Conclusion: Who needs school when the most important lessons in life can be taught to us by animated movies directed at children aged 3-12? Also, could Michael Fassbender and/or James McAvoy please have my children?
WEDNESDAY
Nothing exciting happened today.
TH-
JUST KIDDING!
SAMANTHA PASSED HER DRIVER'S TEST! We drove into the testing station at 6:35am, and left at 9:15am. She drove in there - just another reckless and dangerous learner driver, and drove out - just another reckless and dangerous driver with a license. And guess what? We didn't even have to pay that R1800 bribe that we were offered by a dodgy looking gentleman in a two-tone car. We then drove all the way to Hartebeespoort Dam and back, just for the hell of it. We took Simma (Sam's little sister) to the park to play, and despite the fact that she entered that playground with a perfectly smooth forehead and left it with a bump the size of my fist, Sam and I would make wonderful au pairs, if I do say so myself.
Andandand! Lauren arrived in Johannesburg! She's my friend who lives in Port Elizabeth, which is, like, 273845972345km away, give or take a mile.
Today was also the day that Justin Bieber tweeted that South Africa is on the list of countries that have been included in his Believe Tour. I will comment on this at a later stage.
Conclusion: Just because Samantha has been recognised as a safe and competent driver by the relevant authorities, doesn't necessarily mean that she won't drift off of the road from time to time.
THURSDAY
Today, I bought these:
I know, right? I plan on wearing my lovely new Sexy With Attitude treasures from YDE tomorrow night, as it's Claudia's 18th birthday. You know what that means. Ladies, I hope you're wearing protection (?), because we're about to fuck shit up! Tune in next time to find out if we survived.
Conclusion: For the most part, Sandton City is a bottomless chasm of suck when you have ridiculous standards and no money. Also, never give up. It takes dedication, hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but eventually, you will find that jacket and those shoes.
Saturday 30 June 2012
Hey, I Just Met You
If you're reading this because I've obnoxiously paraded the existence of this blog all over Twitter and in your BBM inboxes, welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay.
I only have one thing to say today and that is:
If any of you out there ever feel the urge to download a whole bunch of Carly Rae Jepsen songs, more than you'd like to admit, I strongly advise you to fight that urge. It's just not worth it. Not that I would ever have done that.
I only have one thing to say today and that is:
If any of you out there ever feel the urge to download a whole bunch of Carly Rae Jepsen songs, more than you'd like to admit, I strongly advise you to fight that urge. It's just not worth it. Not that I would ever have done that.
Friday 29 June 2012
The Blue Bracelet Vow
The story that I'm about to tell you is the tale of what can only be described as the Morgan Freeman of hangovers. The events that lead to this tragically unforeseen situation took place on the evening of Wednesday, the twenty-seventh of June. My friend, Noo (also known as Nicole) (I was going to change her name to minimise the risk of being sued for defamation of character, but then I realised that the only person that you'll be judging by the end of this entry is me) had organised to host a get-together at her house (which, let me just add, is one of the, if not the most, adorable houses that I have ever thrown up in stepped foot in). It was a Bad Bitches gathering, so that was the first clue that it would be no innocent affair. The second clue that the proverbial shit was about to hit the likewise proverbial fan, was the fact that I neglected to buy a six-pack of something, but instead, I opted to bring a bottle of Russian Bear vanilla and coffee bean flavored vodka. Jhayde brought some sort of cookies and cream liquor, and I'm pretty sure a bottle of whisky was introduced to the table at some point in the evening.
Now, prior to the morning of Thursday, the twenty-eighth of June, I thought of myself as someone who could not be penetrated by the evil ways of "the wet devil". A kind of invincible badass, if you will. I couldn't have been more wrong, my friends. I couldn't have been more wrong.
So, eight hours, about seven vodka shots, four liquor shots, and an unknown number of sips at the bottles of the aforementioned drinks later, I find myself - or rather, Nicole finds me - passed out on the bathroom floor after falling and hitting my face against the toilet/tiles. The hours that followed that little discovery of Noo's were, for lack of a better phrase, suck-a-bag-o'-dicks. It was just a dark period of time in my life. I'm very grateful for Noo, Jhaydey, Linda, and Bu, who sat with me and tried their best to feed me toast and tea, and comfort me throughout my agonising ordeal, and I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to the four of them. I would also like to take this opportunity to apologise to Vanessa, Noo's mom. Partly for my unladylike and undignified behaviour in your beautiful home, and partly for telling you that I wish you were my mom (even though that's still kind of true).
And that brings us to the Blue Bracelet Vow. On Friday morning, when I was finally back to my sober and functional self, I scouted my house for a piece of string or anything that I could tie around my wrist to serve as a memoir for the previous morning. All I found was an actual bracelet that I had bought in Ballito, but beggars can't be choosers so it had to do.
Friday 15 June 2012
No Time Like The Present
I guess I can't sit around for the rest of my life, waiting for inspiration to strike. So, I'm striking instead. I've put off writing the opening post for this new blog of mine for quite some time, considering I've spent the last few weeks meddling around with template designs and image editors, and lost in the complicated world of html. I barely made it out alive, and it's questionable as to whether I made it out with my sanity intact. Actually, it's questionable whether I had any sanity to begin with. I'm thinking: no.
I decided that the longer I delayed the publishing of the first post, and the subsequent release to the general public, the harder it would become, so that's why I'm taking this opportunity to get a little writing in. "What opportunity is that?" you ask? Well, at this very moment in time, I am sitting on my bed, indulging in my guilty pleasures (Oreos and Glee music), while all my friends are out clubbing. I was unable to accompany them as I'm still underage and, unlike my friends who are also still seventeen, I don't have any faux documentation, if you catch my drift. The recent BlackBerry Messenger status updates referring to vaginas and public masturbation suggests that they're all have a splendid time. What a bunch. I'll introduce them to you some time, okay?
If my memory serves me correctly, this is my fourth or fifth blog. The others have all been tragic and dismal failures, but I assure you that this time, things will be different. Yes, that may have been what I said in the establishing posts for the last three or four blogs, but this time things really will be different. I've never had the self-discipline to keep a diary or a journal for more than two months, so this blog is going to serve as my diary, one that I am foolishly exposing to the outside world.
Dreams, aspirations, anecdotes, observations, the life and times of an average South African high school student, adventures, sarcasm, doodles, overemotional rants, Glee references, and pointless ramblings. Those are the things that you can expect to find here. If you wish to stick around and see where this thing goes, well, that's great. If not, don't let the door hit your uppity ass on the way out, and good luck finding something that meets your completely unreasonable standards. Too much?
Hi. I'm Lara. And I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.
I decided that the longer I delayed the publishing of the first post, and the subsequent release to the general public, the harder it would become, so that's why I'm taking this opportunity to get a little writing in. "What opportunity is that?" you ask? Well, at this very moment in time, I am sitting on my bed, indulging in my guilty pleasures (Oreos and Glee music), while all my friends are out clubbing. I was unable to accompany them as I'm still underage and, unlike my friends who are also still seventeen, I don't have any faux documentation, if you catch my drift. The recent BlackBerry Messenger status updates referring to vaginas and public masturbation suggests that they're all have a splendid time. What a bunch. I'll introduce them to you some time, okay?
If my memory serves me correctly, this is my fourth or fifth blog. The others have all been tragic and dismal failures, but I assure you that this time, things will be different. Yes, that may have been what I said in the establishing posts for the last three or four blogs, but this time things really will be different. I've never had the self-discipline to keep a diary or a journal for more than two months, so this blog is going to serve as my diary, one that I am foolishly exposing to the outside world.
Dreams, aspirations, anecdotes, observations, the life and times of an average South African high school student, adventures, sarcasm, doodles, overemotional rants, Glee references, and pointless ramblings. Those are the things that you can expect to find here. If you wish to stick around and see where this thing goes, well, that's great. If not, don't let the door hit your uppity ass on the way out, and good luck finding something that meets your completely unreasonable standards. Too much?
Hi. I'm Lara. And I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.
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