When the cat's away...

I'm actually sitting in the manager's office right now and typing this. I'm feeling a little guilty... Even though I know she wouldn't mind. I think. It does feel a bit weird though... In the manager's chair, at the manager's computer. And Facebooking in the other window. Hihi.

Yeah. This is the last trading day for 2007. My husband is doing research on my machine (he works waaay too hard), so I had no other option really than to use the manager's. We have not had a single sale today. Only one bloke came in looking for some books we didn't have...

I'm totally being a little rebellious today anyway. Not wearing my work shirt, or anything remotely smart really. But my prized Australian outfit from my sister-in-law.

So.

I will only be able to post in 2008 again. Til then!

Has it lost its lustre?

Another blogger bites the dust.

OK. Not all that bad. But blogging has really taken a back seat for me lately. I wish I had time to put down all that's on my mind. But perhaps I feel this medium is not secure enough to pour out my deepest emotions.

I could take the route of current affairs. Ranting and raving about Jacob Zuma being the new ANC president. I mean, not that I didn't expect it. In South Africa nothing surprises me anymore. Not even when supposedly educated people vote for a man that was on trial for rape, had sex with an HIV positive woman and took a shower afterwards as an "extra precaution", has dodgy credentials i.t.o corruption, and sings about picking up your AK47s. But people love him. Goodness knows why. I'd like to believe that people have more sense than to be swept up in a wave of hero worship for a prolific speaker. He can't seem to do anything wrong. He's the leader for the people. But don't they all promise that? More jobs, less poverty blah blah. It's all idle talk. Perhaps I should have more faith. Perhaps Jacob Zuma will turn out to be a good leader that actually does get stuff done...

What's the chance.

The NPA is out only hope.

Well wow. There you go. Current affairs wasn't all that difficult to write about was it.

I sometimes feel that writing entirely about myself all the time - my random daily experiences - must be pretty boring for the expansive blogosphere out there. Here's this question again. WHO am I writing for?! Myself? Or the people I know will read this. It's kinda like when psychologists do experiments with people. The fact that the people know that they are in an experiment changes their reactions. So does my knowing who reads this change what I write? ABSOLUTELY. It shouldn't be like that. I should be able to just express myself the way I want. But then, I don't want to tread on toes...

Dilemma.

Do I put my best foot forward in what I write? Of course! I don't want to be subjected to criticism about myself when this is MY blog. Where I can write what I want. But I can't.

HA! Yeah. That's got me all in a knot.

I haven't been feeling very Christmassy lately. It's been all work and worry and blah. But yesterday we managed to find a real Christmas tree! And my manager has given me the afternoons off this week. It's been so great cause my mom in law is here, and we're going shopping, and having coffee together, buying Christmas decor etc...

Soon I will be on leave for a few days.

Be good all. And have a merry Christmas!!

Nothing of consequence

I woke up this morning hoping against hope that it was the weekend.

It wasn’t.

This day has but d r a g g e d on. I’m so tired. The other day we had dinner with our friends who are leaving this sorry town for the holidays. Before we knew it we were on Smirnoff Storm number 3 (not to mention glass of wine and G&T before that…), and suddenly it was midnight and I was sipping (involuntarily) on a huge glass of wine. I just don’t know how it happened. Good food, good company… Somehow we just got a little carried away. So not planned…

Yah. So Thursday was a little fragile for all of us…

So we have this new guy working here now, replacing my favourite colleague. The new guy’s really nice, but he’s just not the old guy. He is really such an eager beaver. Seriously. I mean, when the phone rings and he’s busy making coffee he’ll sprint from the kitchen to answer it, shouting “I’ve got it!”. I hope his enthusiasm wanes soon because just looking at him makes me tired. I mean, I of the Well Done Certificate: I work hard. But this guy is just over the top. He never takes his full hour of lunch. Dude – you have a whole hour break – TAKE IT PLEASE.

And then he talks really softly. I was making tea today and he was standing like 5m away mumbling something. It was only after 30 seconds that I realised he was actually speaking to me (trying to anyway) – over the roar of the kettle. I was like: “Huh?! Are you speaking to me?”.

Somehow he makes me feel bad for doing other things when there’s no work to do. Like I feel so bad for checking my Gmail, or reading blogs. I don’t even DARE go on Facebook.

Does it seem to you that lately I haven’t had anything profound to say? Definitely feels like that to me. Maybe I’m a little tired of all the seriousness of life right now. I sometimes just don’t feel like dwelling on problems and/or philosophical questions. From now on I’m going to just talk about frivolous things like shopping and soft-spoken colleagues.

Don’t you LOVE make-overs? I’d say I’m a bit of a make-over junkie. Any kind of make-over. Home, extreme, weight loss – WHATEVER. I love love love that before and after stuff. Wish someone would give me a make over. I’m not very good with fashion, and what looks good on me etc. My husband is my senior fashion consultant.

Ramble ramble blah blah

What gives you the idea that I am so bored at work today. I wanna go hoooooome. And eat burgers and chips and watch movies. It’s a loooong weekend!!!

Gobbledigook

I actually haven’t written for a whole week! It feels like so much has happened that nothing really has happened. Can that even make sense to anyone? It’s like when you haven’t seen someone in AGES; so much has happened to you in between, but after you have imparted the seemingly important bits such as what you do job-wise, that you’re married and where you live etc, there seems to be nothing left to say… Even though there is obviously an ocean of experiences that you both have encountered you have to wade into the murky pool of small talk…

I seem to be off on a tangent once again.

Basically I’ve been pretty sick. Had fever for the first time in my life (and it was HORRIBLE). I’ve been away from work for a couple of days now. Today is first day back. I’ve been having quite some fun at work today – there’s been a lot of work to do, and it was really cool being busy and useful again after lounging in bed for the better part of 4 whole days. We rearranged the shop a little, made more space for the magazines and stationery. It’s all very exciting. (Gosh, doesn't take much, does it...)

AND my Well Done certificate* arrived. I’m not sure what they think this MS Word-created, printed on cheap cardboard, with clip art pics template of a document is going to do for my morale, but the fact that they spelt my name wrong has made me think the idea is even more ridiculous. It’s probably for prestige and honour or something. They’ll probably want me to frame it. BLEH. I’ve learnt that certificates are really nothing more than a waste of trees. I’ve even got one that says “Masters Degree” on it. They really should have left that tree standing. Let it help with global warming or something.

Da-di-da.

I feel like I’m beating around the bush a little here. In the past 2 weeks my husband and I have heard a few pieces of tragic and shocking news. Some have left us numb, hurt and very upset. They are not my stories to tell, however.

Things are getting very Christmassy here. It’s nearly the middle of December and I haven’t even thought of Christmas gifts yet. Oops. At least we got our huge chunk of gammon yesterday.

So did you hear that Jake White’s book is selling faster than the last Harry Potter?! That is just incredible! Jake White is so clever. The way he timed everything! We have copies of the book in stock. We haven’t sold a single copy yet…

*After repeatedly being nominated for Employee of the Month (which includes a voucher from Pick n Pay for R 1000) unsuccessfully, I think they thought they would just shut me up with this Well Done certificate.

Sick Day

For the second time in my life I had to call in sick yesterday. Yip. The last time I had to miss a day of anything (school it was back then) was in Grade 9 when I woke up in the middle of the night and had to hurl. Needless to say I stayed at home. I’m not one of those people that stay at home for every tiny little sign of illness. I’d rather go to work/school. Only if it’s bad. Really bad.

This was really bad:
On Monday night I went to bed with a rather wonky tummy. Queasy. Blegh. Nature came calling at 12 am and I didn’t get to sleep much until 3. Every time I would nearly fall asleep again I had to run back to the loo so as not to poop in my bed (sorry if TMI…). I was so exhausted, I think I finally slept for 2 hours until 5 when the whole thing happened all over again. It was pointless even going back to bed, I just stayed on the loo with a book. I just don’t know where all that poop came from! Surely I don’t eat that much…

The bright spark that I am, I only realised at 6am that I still had some pills for this very condition from a previous time. I took them and managed to get some rest, but had decided while nearly falling asleep on the loo at 5 in the morning that there was no way in hell I was going to work like this.

MAN.

What did I used to do at home during University holidays? My day at home was decidedly B O R I N G. Was really wonderful to see my husband, of course, but we couldn’t do anything cause I was sick. I was in bed all day. I played a game, read (a lot), slept (a lot), ate some crackers, drank some horribly milky medicine that was supposed to settle my stomach, and that was the end of my day.

BLEH.

Do you ever...

Do you ever feel like you do all the work? It seems as though, lately, whenever I walk into the manager’s office she is playing Free Cell. Or when there’s an order to be done, she hands it to me and carries on with Free Cell. Or she is gone for half of the day to go to the bank (translation: she has gone to get her nails done). She’s really sweet and we get on etc, but I sometimes wonder if she’s a bit lazy... or if I’m just a bit ambitious.

Today was one of those days. We were the only 2 in the shop – all other colleagues on holiday or have the day off. She had another "emergency" (picking up sister’s report from school), so I was left by myself. I arranged for my husband to come so I wouldn’t be alone, but he was having our piece of junk car fixed. Maybe I don’t realise how much happens during a day at work, but having to handle everything by myself was rather taxing – all phonecalls, all customers, all quotes, all queries. I feel like I’ve worked for HOURS.

As soon as I had thought I’d finished everything, something else came up. And then something else. And so, I am writing this while still procrastinating about that stationery order that is incomplete. I’m leaving that for Monday though. Laziness loves company.

Am SO looking forward to this weekend. I've had too many late nights this week. So tomorrow I can sleep late AND we are going clothes shopping with birthday money!

All this random dribble when my friend Mrs M is about to leave the country. Work and life seems a little insignificant at the moment compared to this looming major event. In a way I am glad I am not there to see her off. I don’t think I would be able to handle it. Having to watch as your very good friend of so many years walks through the gate to board the plane to America forever… I’m not sure my heart could hold it. I hope I am not making the farewell more painful for you Mrs M… I am SO very pleased that you got your Visa and that you will FINALLY be able to see your husband.

I'm just gonna miss you, that's all.

:(

Mrs M is my hero

I’ve had such a magnificent day today. My husband has pulled out ALL the stops to make my day unforgettable. Not only did he arrange a surprise birthday party for me on the weekend (without me knowing about it! Which is RARE – I have a radar of note), but he got up at 4:30 this morning to prepare a delectable dip for an array of exotic fruits (cherries, strawberries, kiwis, grapes etc) for breakfast. He decorated the house with balloons and got me the most amazing gifts. A good book, a gift voucher for a reflexology treatment at a spa place, a new pair of running shorts etc etc. All of them were thoughtfully selected as only my husband can.

Then at work I was sung to and had a peppermint cream cake bought for me. And I got lovely gifts from my colleagues! Not to mention the numerous SMSes and Facebook messages.

I went home for lunch excited as to what delicacy my wonderful husband was whipping up. He handed me a Fast Mail envelope on the way to the flat. I saw it was Mrs M’s handwriting. I was really touched that she had gone to the effort of writing me a nice card. I carefully opened the pink envelope and studied the cute picture on the front of the birthday card. The card felt fat, as if she had put something extra into the card. I opened it up and there it was. After waiting for 7 months, sending people and going back to the wretched place over and over, trying in vain to phone them over and over, and literally having to put my life on hold, I was finally holding it in my hand. My green ID document with my married name.

I SCREAMED!

Literally screamed. My husband was shocked at my outburst, people were staring… But I didn’t care. Mrs M. You are my hero today. I just had no idea. I thought I would be waiting at least another few weeks. I just can’t believe I have that thing in my hands at last.

Mrs M – THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, you trumped it. I love you!! This has been the best birthday of my entire LIFE!

25

So I’m 25 today.

*Gnome pauses for this to sink in*

I’d be lying if I said I really care about how old I am. I don’t really. Some people have mid-20s crises when they hit 25. Suddenly they think they are old. They take stock of their lives and wonder what they have accomplished in the first quarter of their lives on earth. I think I’ve done pretty well. Maybe not in the eyes of the world. I mean, I don’t own a car (anymore…), or a house, or even a flat; I don’t have a fantastic job that fulfils me and allows me to bring home buckets of cash (who does anyway). But I do have some other “things” that I am proud of.

I think I am a really good and loyal friend. I think I am accepting and caring and loving. I think I have a compassionate heart, and a good brain. Even though I am not a success story by the world’s standards, I am really very proud of the person that I am. Through all the experiences in my life, I have arrived at 25 with a positive attitude, a number of good friends, and very few regrets. I am a good wife, a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend.

I am proud of you, Gnome. Cheers to your 25th Birthday!

A Christmas Story

For the first time since Primary School I got to dress up as an angel for a Nativity play at church*. I’ve always been an angel. I was never one of the lucky ones that got to be an important character like Mary or even a shepherd. I think it was cause I was shy. The shy people always get to be angels. Nevertheless, I got to wear little wings and sing Christmas carols. It was great. Until “Away in a Manger”. The piano sounded the little introduction, I took a big breath and started.

“Away in a manager, no crib for a bed…”

I only realised too late that nobody was actually singing. Except me! The camel that was standing in front of me turned around so abruptly, and stared at me as if I had just committed an unforgivable sin.

“Stop singing!” He hissed.

My voice died in my throat and I tried to curb the heat rising in my cheeks. The piano started again and I tentatively sang – trying to blend in with the rest. By the time "The First Noel" came along I felt less embarrassed, and started to hope that perhaps people hadn't really noticed. It was finally during "Good Christians Men Rejoice" that I was over it. I sang the last song, "Joy to the World" with much gusto.

Maybe next time they'll let me be a shepherd.

*Since there were a lot of carols that needed to be sung, we were roped in to help the kids with the singing.

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving. In the States anyway. I think it’s a great day though – a time to reflect on what we are thankful for. And to eat loads and loads of yummy food and not feel bad. But before we get to that, here are some interesting links:

Whew. Thanks to Toby for an excellent discussion on religion. Check it out here.

Then I’ve been meaning (for weeks) to help Louisa out. Instead of writing a post about it myself, here is the link to Louisa’s blog – check it out!

My American friend tells me that at Thanksgiving lunch, everyone gets a chance to say one or 2 things that they are thankful for that happened in the last year. Right now I can think of A LOT more than a couple, but here are the most significant ones:

I’m really thankful that I have a job. I know I complain often about it, but I really do appreciate that I can earn an honest living*.

I am so incredibly thankful that I got married this year. This has not been an easy year for my husband and I, but it has been super blessed because we’ve had each other. We have grown so much closer in these few months of marriage. I understand him loads better now. Not only him, but I understand myself so much better now too.

I am thankful for the all the experiences this year has thrown at me because it has brought me closer to God. Through the struggles, through my friends, through our YA group, through worship team at church, through colleagues… It just seems that during this whole year, all roads lead to God.

I think it’s of great value to take a minute and just reflect on those things that happened to you in the last year that you are thankful for.


Happy Thanksgiving!

*Plus heard yesterday that the new company is coughing up for the medical aid! They will pay the outstanding difference, so all in all there will be no difference in what I take home at the end of the month. A real relief. Even though after worrying for a few days I gave that up and decided to just trust that everything would be OK. And it was. Yay!

Survivor

Go Yul!

I was really pleased when Yul Kwon won Survivor Cook Islands on last night’s show. Even though it’s like such old news for the rest of the world, South Africa finally got to see the 13th season. I didn’t follow this one as much as I did the seasons before that. It’s somehow lost its novelty and appeal for me a little bit. I only like to see the last few episodes to see who wins the million.

But I LOOOVE the reunion show. We’ll get back to that in a sec.

Some people just aren’t that into Survivor because people lie and cheat and back stab and fight and all that jazz. I’m by no means an advocate for lying and backstabbing, but all’s fair within the context of the game. It’s really just strategy. You can’t be on Survivor and expect to go through the whole thing without the slightest untruth ever crossing your lips. It is a game, after all, not real life, and one where the prize is a rather substantial amount of money. I don’t blame them in the least for being a tad bit morally challenged and selfish. The same goes for those watching. Don’t expect a show reflecting impeccable values. It’s about outplaying, outlasting and outwitting the rest. If you don’t like it, don’t watch it.

So back to the 13th season, Cook Islands. What I really liked about this season was the friendship between the Aitu 4 (Yul, Becky, Ozzy & Sundra). They really were the underdogs and just rose beautifully above the rest to become the final 4. It is rather uncharacteristic for Survivor to breed an alliance of such a nature within the game – I mean, one that lasts as long as this one did, and exists between a number of people. Alliances usually break apart when the million is within reach. But even when Sundra was outlasted by Becky in the fire making challenge, there just no animosity between them.

I think what draws me to this show and especially the reunion show is the tangible bond that is formed between all the people on the show. Regardless of whether you had an alliance with anyone (or no one), were voted out first, or were the antagonist of the show, you share a common experience with the rest. Being marooned on an island with 19 other people, forced to survive and compete against each other… That is an experience that only those few people can share with you. Only they can understand what it was like; only they can laugh at the personal jokes you shared during that time; only they can make you feel like you belonged there somehow.

When I was in Germany after school I took part in 4 month course with a bunch of other people. We did everything together. We lived in the same building, ate the same food, went to the same classes, went to the same parties, saw each other from morning til night. When I had to leave that place I cried harder than I ever had before. It was such an amazing experience to share the same circumstances with people. We had so many personal jokes, and just a common understanding about things. On the verge of leaving I realised the tragedy of it all: this was the last time we would be together like this. Things would never ever be the same again – even if we would see each other again, it would be in a different context…

When I watch the Survivor reunion show I get this feeling again – this hint of the bond that they share(d), and somehow I long for that. I long for a community.

Pillow Talk

The most profound conversations seem to happen in the dying minutes of our waking hours. While my husband tries (in vain) to look for stars though the open window, and I fight with the duvet and pillows for the most comfortable spot, we seem to veer into realms of existential and profound discussions.

At times we’ll talk about theology or psychology. Often we discuss people. Our friends, our enemies. We try to figure out what makes them tick, what effect their pasts have had on their present. We try to understand people’s behaviour, their personalities, their reactions. Sometimes we get angry and say nasty things which we later regret and retract… But mostly we are trying to figure people out – fit all the wayward pieces of the puzzle together.

A lot of the time we are trying to figure ourselves out. We talk about our past, our deepest hurts, our sadness, our weaknesses, our spiritual journeys; our frustrations, our joys… We try to make sense of our moods, thoughts and emotions. We encourage each other, support each other, we hold hands and say how proud we are of each other and how much the other has to offer the world. We are mirrors to the other – gently exposing areas that need work, and encouraging each other’s strengths. I get my hair stroked and he gets his back scratched.

This is what I love about marriage. This is exactly what I signed up for when I said “Yes” to him. I can’t even imagine my life without these magic times…

The Christmas Party

My husband and I approached the whole Christmas party thing without expecting much. I wore my jeans and a smartish top, and decided last minute to apply a thin layer of makeup. We arrived to a table sprinkled with Christmas crackers and sweeties and other goodies. And to the news that the restaurant we were supposed to go to was full (turned out to be a matric dance), so we were relocated another. Which wasn't bad - had a great view, comfy chairs... Nonetheless, due to this "inconvenience" my colleague's husband managed to get us a good deal (and all)*. Instead of the simple 2 course meal (starters and main) we had settled for, we were going to get all that PLUS dessert and drinks (beer, champers, wine) on the house.

After the initial pleasantries, the beginning minutes were a bit awkward. You know how you're trying to size up everyone's partners... And nobody really knows what to talk about. And you don't want to be the idiot who talks about work. There were a few tense silent moments... But I tell you, as soon as the starters came, and the wine and beer started flowing things got a little... more relaxed.

A lot more.

The food was just magnificent. Even though we couldn't pronounce what we were eating (vindaloo, jangari, paneer, poppadoms etc etc), and mostly had to wave around wildly to have the various dishes passed around to us, the unique and exotic flavours of this Indian cuisine were just so delicious. I completely overindulged.

As for the company and conversation, things just got better and better. Towards the end of the evening we were laughing non-stop. It was so bad at some stage that it felt like I had done 500 sit-ups, and my jaw was aching worse than it had on our wedding day. Granted, as time wore on (and the wine flowed), so the conversation seemed to dip lower and lower below the belt...

I can't remember when last I laughed so much, and when last I had so much fun with a bunch of people that really accept me. Most of the today was spent reminiscing about memorable moments, good food, and the hilariousness of it all.

*Indians always know how to get a deal.

Christmas Party and More

I'm looking pretty cute today.

Got my little red and white Christmas hat with fake white hair extension braids sticking out on either side. Hats suit me I think. My husband thinks I look cute - like a German. The only uninvited guest on my face at the moment is a horrible pimple. As usual it has come at the wrong time: our Company's Christmas Party is tonight. Nothing concealer can't fix though.

Still deciding what to wear. Don't wanna pitch up looking too formal, but on the other hand your colleagues have only ever seen you wearing your work shirt. In a way you do want to make a bit of an impression. Like, this is the real Gnome. Better pluck my eyebrows. And should I wear makeup? I hardly ever do. Only for special occasions. Does this count as such an occasion?

Sat for a long time studying the menu of the place we're going to tonight. We had to give our orders in this morning already. You have to be careful of your choices. You don't want to choose something that could be potentially embarrassing - such as prawns or chicken or something that you would have to approach with knife and fork, and then have to leave a lot of the meat on the bone. Rather get something you can just shovel down and make sure you use all the money the stingy company has allocated to you.

I've always had trouble choosing what to eat. Once I find a good dish I seem to stick to it. Which is so boring! I wish I was more adventurous with my food choices... I've become rather dependent on my husband when it comes to choosing dishes. He seems to know exactly what I want. He makes deciding what to eat so much easier. He's totally taken to the whole cooking thing as well. I hardly ever cook anymore. The only thing I make is salad. I really bagged a winner. *Gnome is so proud of her choice of husband*

So my colleague wanted to know if I've got any good jokes for tonight. God forbid I'd have to tell a joke. I am so bad, and when I try, they ALWAYS fall flat and people just don't laugh. Cringe. Luckily our one colleague is a bit of a loud mouth, so rest assured, we won't have to make too much needless conversation. I'm actually just there for the food after all.

My faith

Recently I have been thinking a lot about prayer and it’s power. We had a discussion about a week ago with a couple of people about prayer. 2 people in particular expressed the view that they did not think prayer was at all effective – and that it’s only power lay in its psychological value for those praying, or those being prayed for. It’s funny how their condescending tone just made me more sure about my faith.

My faith is weak at best. I doubt, I struggle, I veer off the path, I forget to trust, I do things in my own strength. Mostly I struggle with the issue of healing. Why does God heal some and not others? Why do some suffer so much, while others don’t? Why does a loving God allow innocent and even faithful people to suffer, while He chooses to heal others?

I don’t have any answers to all these difficult questions. All I can say is what I feel – and that is that God is there and that he loves us more than we can ever imagine or understand with our human minds. When I speak to God there is more at work than just a psychological soothing of my wounds. I sense that there is so much more, I can nearly taste an immense joy that is veiled, waiting to be uncovered. Yet I am not sure I have been able to grasp the entirety of this miracle. Perhaps I am scared.

In prayer I am scared of being disappointed. Yet, at the same time I am stunned and ashamed at my audacity. Does God not know what is best for me? How can I claim to know what is best for me when I have such a limited view of the world, of my life, even of myself? Does God not answer my prayers in a way that is best for me? Often we only realise this later... Much later.

People often see religion as weak. "The opium of the masses". You cannot cope on your own, so you conjure up some god to lean on, and you pray to this conjured god to make you feel better. In my view, putting your trust in God; opening yourself up to being changed and healed; being yourself (despite your weaknesses and vulnerabilities) in front of God is anything but weak.

Mistakes and Consequences (and Money)

So I got a little irked today.

Don’t really wanna say too much about it, but it turns out my helping somebody has got me into a bit of trouble. The more I think about it, the more I realise that this really wasn’t my fault. I was just following orders. Then again, how far do you take the following orders excuse? How many Nazis were just following orders? How many people in Apartheid were just doing as they were told?

Oh my gosh.

I’m really being a little too melodramatic here. *Gnome tries to snap out of it* I mean, it’s not like I killed anyone or even that my actions led to any sort of grievous bodily harm whatsoever. Actually it probably just cost the company a little bit of money.

What little chance I had of ever winning the employee of the month award has just gone out of window I see. And with it the R 1 000 Pick n Pay voucher.

Damn.

I seem to have a bit of a track record when it comes to costing companies money. When I worked in England I would frequently* give people discounts (without their knowledge), or leave an item off “by mistake”. I just sometimes couldn’t stomach charging people SO much money for so little food. The prices there were horrendous – even for their standards. I sort of felt like a bit of a Robin Hood. I’m sorry, company in England, but you still made gazillions of pounds in profit at the end of the year (I read the year-end report), so I’m not wasting any guilt emotions on you.

But this time really wasn’t on purpose.

Although, if I could give people a discount I would (too bad I’m not authorised for those kinds of overrides). I find something so innately wrong with rich people making even more money to feed their opulent indulgences.

Speaking of opulent indulgences, I was utterly disgusted by a piece of news yesterday: a Saudi Prince (13th richest man in the world) has bought himself the world’s biggest plane (that seats over 500 people) for an unimaginable sum of money. Ironically enough, in the same news bulletin the headline was about the bread price, and how some people can’t even afford to buy this most basic of foods…

Kind of puts things into perspective a little bit...

*OK, it didn’t happen THAT often…

Decisions decisions

A week before our wedding, you would have expected our tensions to run high, our families to be disagreeing about flowers, decorations, guests and goodness knows what else. Weddings always expose the weak family bonds. In so many ways our wedding was perfect. My mom-in-law totally respected what I wanted. But since I often didn't know what I wanted she made really good suggestions. My mom also totally allowed me my freedom to choose exactly what I wanted. And my dad provided the finances*. So, very uncharacteristically, our families actually really get on, and our wedding was more of a strengthening of bonds exercise than one that blew the cover on strained ties. I love my family, and so does my husband. Just as I love my husband's family.

So Christmas time is upon us once again. When you're married, you always have to make the hard decision as to WHO you will spend Christmas with this year. Last year it was my husband's mom. So by rights it would have to be my family this year. Obviously we want to be with both. My sister might be leaving to go to Germany soon, my grandfather is getting very old, and I haven't seen my dad since Easter. And of course I always like seeing my mom. My husband's mom is all on her own though - she's basically only got her sister, as her other children all emigrated.

After much thought we decided that because of costs and other reasons** we would rather stay put and not see either of them.

But then last night my mom offered to pay for our flights to Cape Town. I was on the Internet the whole morning looking for suitable flights. Obviously airlines cash in at this time, and the prices are SKY HIGH (pun is intended). Even Nationwide - despite falling engines - has ridiculous prices. Eventually I found some flights with Mango, but the problem of my mom-in-law was still not solved. Our first thought was to get her down to CT as well, but the prices are sometimes even worse. It just wouldn't be worth it.

And so we were faced with a decision. My family, or my husband's family.

*SIGH* I hate being faced with these kinds of decisions. Because it's not like the one is more important than the other. Or that we love one more than the other. I've got a headache just thinking about it again. It's like choosing between an Oreo Cheese Cake and a Pecan Nut Pie. Both are just wonderful. But you have to pick one, since you can't have your cakes (both of them) and eat them.

After much phoning, deliberation, stress and prayers, we decided that the best would be to have my husband's mom come down to us for Christmas. I have peace about the decision, but still feel heart sore though, even though my mom was very understanding (Thanks Mom, love you).

I'm really very grateful that our families get on well, and that we don't have issues with the "in-laws", but at the same time I wonder if it's not equally challenging when you get on brilliantly with both of them (especially when you all live so far apart)...

*He even said he felt bad for not being more involved, and just being the guy who pays.
**I mean, who do you choose? You can't really choose between 2 families that are both so dear to both of you.

Happy birthday, Sister

No matter how much I was bossed around; no matter how many arguments we had; no matter how many angry words we screamed at each other; no matter how far away we are from each other at any point in time; there is no denying that there is a bond between my sister and I that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

With so many reasons to wear masks around friends and even family, it is a bit of an oasis to let my hair down with my sister. When you have lived in the same house with the same parents, growing up in similar environments, you develop a whole pallet of memories that are untouchable. Memories of good times, bad times... Just one word can sometimes jog a memory and have us both in stitches. Even though we are quite different, we understand each other. We understand our past.

This is such a priceless relationship for me, and perhaps I don't say this enough to you, dear sister. I love you so much. Happy birthday.

Personality test

Have you ever had your personality mapped out on a grid? It all seems so simple when you look at that line - rising and falling according to your different traits... Your personality a bunch of peaks and troughs.

I did the test about a year ago - it was part of our marriage prep. But since pastors are very busy people, we only received the results last night. I was rather surprised at some it... Instead of the calm, tranquil and relaxed person I thought I was, the test reflected that (at the time of the test), I was rather nervous and anxious. Perhaps the stress of organising a wedding was getting to me? Or the worry of what I was going to do with my life after the wedding; the weight of having to be the bread-winner without the surety of a stable job...?

Another surprising trend was the high score I got on the depressive scale. I thought I was much more optimistic than the threatening line suggests. Perhaps this was due to the same reasons as mentioned above?

The rest was rather predictable. And pleasant. Except the submissive scale. Yes. News flash. I am very submissive. According to my personality trait test from last year that is. My husband was rather quick to point out that I am most definitely not submissive with him. But I know this is something that I have to work on. I am sometimes a bit of a push over. And a people pleaser. I don't say no as much as I should. And I often don't have the courage to tell my closest friends how I really feel. Yay for blogs for helping me express myself without having to do it face to face.

But I do think I have changed in the past year. A lot. I've been forced to be more assertive. I have to phone people to tell them to pay their accounts for crying out loud. And I got married. Marriage tests you, and stretches you and brings out the best and the worst in you. Marriage is the biggest life lesson, second only to having children (I assume).

It's funny... I think a year ago I would have probably taken this test very seriously. Now I kind of take from it what is useful to me. I see it more like a snap shot of how I felt that day, not a condemnation of all that I should improve. I mean, of course you can always improve, but somehow I seem to be at peace with who I am at the moment. Faults and all.

Mmh. It feels really good to say that.

Turmoil

I don't feel like being serious today.

I had some very bad news on the weekend about a friend of my aunt's that was raped and murdered in her home. And my manager's nephew was shot in the stomach by robbers and subsequently died in hospital. Sometimes the evil in the world becomes so overwhelming you just want to shut it out and live in a bubble. A bubble where you can believe that you are immune to such trauma. I hate suffering. My whole being rebels against it. I just want to make things better. I want things to go back to the way they were. I want people to laugh and be carefree.

This weekend I realised that it's more than that. Suffering chills me to the core because I fear it above all else. I fear pain. Physical, emotional. My own pain, the pain of those that I love. Sometimes when I close my eyes I try to imagine what that pain would feel like. Just in case. To prepare myself. What it would be like to be raped... To be stabbed... To have a loved one torn from me... But I just can't bear it and push it from my mind. Maybe my inexperience with pain is the reason for my intense fear... The fear of the unknown.

Damn. And I didn't really want to be serious today.

Departures

So my favourite colleague handed in his resignation today. I'm rather sad. Not sure if it's because I'm a little jealous that he's moving up in the world, or because I have so much uncertainty in my life that I don't want the little comfort zone I have at work to be rattled in any way. I know change is inevitable, but I was hoping it would be change that I have control over. Like me moving. Not like a colleague (favourite at that) moving on to a better job. We always have so much fun together.

Maybe that's why I am sad. He was the only one at work I could really laugh with. I think I'm really going to miss him. Work will probably turn into a fairly dull affair. Even duller than it is at the moment.

It seems like a lot of people are leaving.

My good friend Mrs M is also nearing her departure. This has probably made my colleague's resignation so much more tangible for me. I hate saying goodbye. The people staying behind are always worse off than those that are doing the leaving.

My sister is probably leaving soon too. I don't really want to think about that right now. My aunt is leaving to go back to Germany in a few days. My grandfather is leaving for heaven sometime.

Apart from the fact that I will miss all these people dearly, the more I think about it, the more I realise that I dislike change. Change in things that are good already. I guess we're all like that in some ways. Scared of change. I hate that I like my comfort zones and my set ways. I want to be out of the box and different and adventurous. But here I am in my 8 - 5 lamenting change that I can't control...

Flying high

Flying used to be a pretty novel and exciting exercise. But with the inception of low cost airlines like Kulula, 1time and Mango it's become pretty run of the mill. So normal, in fact, that I find it rather boring and just a means to an end. I even have a list of things that irk me about flying.

1.) When people push and shove to board the plane. Guys, you have a RESERVED seat. Believe it or not, you have a space in this plane. YOU WILL NOT BE LEFT BEHIND.

2.) When you have asked for a window seat, and some idiot has decided that he deserves to sit at the window even though he checked in after you, and you actually deserve the window seat, but you're too nice to make a fuss over a view that you only indulge in at take off and landing anyway.

3.) The same dude that stole your window seat wants to go to the loo just after you have made yourself comfortable. When flying with Mango, this means having to get up and wait in the aisle for the dude to finish his business. So annoying.

4.) That there are still people out there who don't switch off their electronic devices during the flight. People, this could interfere with the electronic equipment of the plane. Obviously they don't get that this might make us crash. Crash = dead. Hello?! Priorities people.

5.) I can't imagine that there are still people that don't know how to fasten their seat belts. Even if you're not a seasoned flier, it's really not that higher grade. Click. And lift buckle to undo. If you have a problem, call the flight attendant. If you managed to book your flight online, the seat belt should be child's play.

6.) The fact that people unfasten their seat belts BEFORE the seat belt sign has been switched off and the aircraft has come to a complete standstill. Surely they say these things for your safety? Either way, it irks me that people just don't LISTEN.

Easy post

Had the most amazing extended weekend in Cape Town. Got up at 4 this morning to catch an early flight, and now get to be at work until 5. My response time is impaired accordingly. So I've opted for a reasonably easy post today... Thanks Toby for the tag.

1.When is the last time you held hands with someone? Probably this morning with my husband on the plane.

2. You wake up as the opposite gender, what’s the first thing you do? Faint.

3. Have you ever climbed out a window? I can't recall off-hand, but I'm sure I have sometime in my life...

4. Where is your mum? In Cape Town.

5. Morning or night person? Mmh... More morning than night nowadays, but not early morning.

6. What was the last movie you watched? In the cinema the last I watched was Ratatouille. On the weekend I watched some of Napoleon Dynamite (before I feel asleep).

7. Do you have a crush on anyone right now? My husband...?

8. Any cool scars? I have a "volcano" on my head from measles.

9. Things about the opposite sex you notice first? Not anything specific (physically). Probably if they are shy/outgoing.


10. What do you do when no one is watching? Fart. And blog. And Facebook. Sometimes all at once.

11. Ever been in love? YES. Still am.

12. What’s something your friends make fun of you for? My slight dislike of children, and the fact that I speak German.

13. What is your curfew? My husband demands me home at 5pm :)

14. Would you ever dye your hair red? Been there, done there. Got the photos to prove it.

15. You + alcohol = talkative

16. What’s your worst personality flaw? I trust too easily.

17. What career would you wish to be in? One which fulfils me.

18. Which country would you like to visit? Italy.

19. Do you want a well paying job or a job you enjoy? Definitely one I enjoy, but there must be some money involved. A good balance...

20. Do you wish to have the same best friends when you’re older? Mostly yes.

21. Do you believe in needing a religion? Absolutely.

22. What did you wear today? Wearing black pants and work shirt.

23. When were you last on the phone? Probably about 20 minutes ago.

24. What shoes did you wear today? Black closed shoes.

25. Do you like maths? Not complicated school maths. But financial maths is cool.

26. What about history? I only did it up to the end of Grade 9. Wasn't my favourite to be honest.

27. Have you ever seen 5 squirrels at one time? I think so - at the Company Gardens.

28. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? With much effort. And only if I push my nose into a more reachable position. And then I end up with gob all over.

29. Do you have a brother? Nope.

30. Who’s your favourite person to talk to? My husband, Mrs M, my sister, God.

31. Have you ever used ‘photobucket’? No.

32. Do you like hugs? Bring it on.

33. Do you want to be a doctor? No thanks.

34. Have you ever fallen asleep with gum in your mouth? Not that I can recall.

35. What’s the first thing you do in the morning? Take my pillules.

36. Do you brush your teeth everyday? Every day. Twice. I now have a toothbrush with a tongue cleaner. I use it diligently.

37. Would you date a girl/guy with hair longer than yours? If my husband had long hair I would still love him if that's what's implied.. But I guess in principle I'm not that into long hair on men.

38. Do you want to be famous? Definitely not.

39. Do you spend a lot of time contemplating life’s causes? Sometimes...

40. Do you do your own laundry? Unfortunately yes. I hate it. I don't iron. Ever.

41. Whats the last thing you Drank? Water.

42. Last song you sang? "Africa" by Toto. Such a singable tune.

43. Last person you hugged? My husband.

44. Last thing you laughed at? I laugh a lot. I think I laughed something my colleague said. Can't remember what it was even...

45. Last time you cried? Can't really remember. Maybe a few weeks ago?

46. What colour are your bed sheets? White.

47. What colour is the carpet in your bedroom? Don't have carpets.

48. What’s under your bed? Lots and lots of dust.

49. What time did you wake up today? 4:15 am. *YAWN*

50. Current annoyance? Hunger. Tiredness. Phones.

51. Current desktop background? A photo of my husband and I sharing a joke on a picnic. Very cute.

Anyone who feels like it, consider yourselves tagged.

Awful

I’m really feeling awful today. I think this stress has finally taken its toll. All this worrying about medical aids, holiday days, my husband’s well-being, my husband’s illness… I was fine until after lunch yesterday. Maybe it was the aircon in the shop as well. And this stupid weather. In the morning it’s hot, and then by lunchtime it’s pouring and hailing. I’m just so tired. Physically, emotionally, spiritually… Feels like I’m slurring my speech. Could be all the meds I took this morning. My limbs just feel so heavy. Everything seems an effort. Lifting the phone, smiling at customers… Even eating my apple. I had trouble falling asleep last night. It was really painful to swallow. Today that’s a little better, but I’m just feeling spaced. And tired. And heavy. And listless...

VICTORY!

It’s really all everyone’s talking about at the moment. Every blog I’ve read today had something to do with the victory. Oh it was just so awesome. I sat on the edge of my seat for 80 minutes. I had a dry mouth and was filing my nails so profusely I’m surprised there’s still something left of them. When the final whistle blew we sat in silence for a few seconds before we screamed. It was just so surreal. We drove through the streets (took a while to find some life – this is PMB after all), and hooted at each other, screamed and waved.

Wow. What a rush! Flags and people hanging out of car windows. I giggled with glee every time a fellow South African returned our hooting. It was as though we suddenly all just knew each other. A great big family. This nation has so much spirit, so much joy, so much to offer… For once the differences were forgotten and all cultures celebrated together for one common reason. It was just magic. It’s at times like these where I really see how the scourge of crime is spoiling an otherwise incredible nation.

Being in the shops on Sunday I heard so many conversations between shop employees about where they had been the night before, how they celebrated, how wonderful the victory and the vibe had been… This nation is on such a high right now.

My personal high is a little over-shadowed by my sick husband. He really is miserable and suffering at the moment. It’s terrible when you see the person that you love more than anyone else in the world suffering, and you are powerless to do anything about it. He’s been booked off for a week. I hope he recovers before our weekend to Cape Town. I swear its stress causing all this. My husband has been seriously ill (I don’t mean sick-but-still-able-to-work kind of sick. I mean seriously-ill-in-bed-booked-off kind of sick) 3 times this year already. That’s just not normal. Something’s wrong here…

So a friend of a friend got married on Saturday afternoon. They left the wedding ceremony at 19:30. I had to wonder what they were doing at 21:00. I mean, it was their wedding night after all... But also the rugby world cup final… Decisions decisions…

Go Bokke

I don't think there's a South African in the world today that is not feeling at least a little bit patriotic. I think it's great. It's not often that we can be proudly South African. Looks like most South Africans have gotten into the spirit of things. We even got to wear a rugby shirt (green/white/gold shirt) to work today. What fun. And we had our faces painted.
It would just be so wonderful if we win. I think for a few hours at least we will suddenly feel proud, patriotic, and undivided. United. Wow. A united South Africa at last.

Go Bokke!!

Husband Antics

I should have known from the naughty look in his eyes. I should have known from the way he urged me to switch the light off so quickly. I really should know my husband by now. But I genuinely didn't expect a thing until my elbow connected with a soft, cold fabric, and a noise frightened me. I let out a yelp. It was only when my husband's near hysterical laughter reached my ears that I realised it was all planned. Cold, calculated and deliberate. And I fell for it beautifully.

My husband really loves his new whoopee cushion.

First impressions

I often wonder how people perceive me. Like, on a first meeting. What do they think of me? Do they think I am pretty? Do they think I am intelligent? Do they think I am shy? Or funny? Or maybe they think I have a really strange nose, or curly hair. [Maybe they're too busy trying to make an impression themselves that they don't really give that much thought to me in the first place] Man. I would love to get into somebody else's head to see what they think of me at first meeting. I would be fascinated to see how right or terribly wrong they are.

My husband was saying to me last night how he never would have dreamed that I would turn out the way I am (that sounds confusing...). When he first met me he thought I was this shy, clever, decent girl. I mean, I am those things... But I can also be boisterous, loud, and believe it or it, I fart and burp quite regularly (and rather enjoy doing so too).

I wonder what people that happen to stumble upon this blog think of Gnome? How much of the real me comes through in my blog? To be entirely honest, I don't let it all hang out on the blog (like some fellow bloggers). I do like to keep some sort of distance. But nonetheless, I write from the heart. I wonder how much of my real heart is visible to the stranger out there.

I think what I am trying to get at is that I actually really hope that all my insecurities don't show in face-to-face first impressions, and that the real me shines through all the grimy and tedious small talk. I hope that I seem like a person who's got it all together. Someone who is a little shy, but not completely socially disabled. I hope it shows that I love God, believe in Jesus, and in love, and that I have a good heart. I hope it shows that I always try to be as non-judgemental and accepting as possible. I hope it shows that I am (overall) a happy and positive person. I hope it shows that I can be trusted...

9780195783292

9780636071827 9781415400241 9780521694537 9781919769462

Translation: I don’t think I can see another 13 digit ISBN number. I have done pages and pages of quotes, with pages and pages of 13 digit ISBN numbers. It’s all I can think about. I don’t even have to look at the keyboard anymore. My fingers just automatically know where to go.

*Gnome wonders if this newly acquired skill might become her claim to fame somewhere in the future… “Gnome holds the Guiness World Record for the longest list of 13 digit ISBN numbers correctly typed, without looking at the keyboard”… *

So we’ve been thinking about what to do for our office Christmas Party. It’s always such an issue. You need to do something that will please everyone. Some people want to get together with our colleagues from Durban for a braai. Others just want to have a quiet dinner. Others don't care, but just want to drink. Others think that we should do something fun and exciting – eating together seems like a rather boring endeavor to them.

And this with only 6 of us in the office. What do big companies do? Somebody probably just makes an executive decision.

I don’t particularly mind what we do for the office Christmas Party, I just hope that I will find someone to have a decent chat with. Not that I don’t get on with my colleagues, but that’s really all they are to me: colleagues. We work together and that’s about it. I’m not sure how to handle “social interactions” with them… I guess I’ll have to worry about that when the time comes.

That’s my trial philosophy for the week (still seeing if it works…). “Worry about it when the time comes”. Turns out there’s quite a lot to be concerned about at the moment. We’ve been planning our January 2008 holiday for months now (it’s our 1 year wedding anniversary, and a friend’s wedding). We’re heading to the Garden Route. We’ve booked accommodation (paid a deposit and all), saved up diligently every month, and are seriously looking forward to our first real holiday together.

But now it seems that January is out for taking time off. It’s the busy season. Plus the shop might close in December, for which our carefully saved up holiday days will be sacrificed. Seems like there’s not much choice in the matter. I’m not sure why I’m so calm… I pleaded with my manager who said she will see what she can do. I have decided that I will take unpaid leave if necessary. Come hell or high water, we are going on holiday. And it’s gonna be the best holiday ever.

So yesterday I was watching some of the survivors of the military disaster speak out. A lady who had lost her arm was being visited by a senior officer. She asked him what had gone wrong. When he didn't have an answer, she said (a bit in despair): "Look, I have lost my arm!" With a cold expression, and a shrug of the shoulders he said: "That’s the nature of our job."
How do you say that to someone who has lost their arm…!?!?

My mother-in-law is visiting at the moment. Contrary to usual monster, uh, mother-in-laws, mine is just wonderful. And she doesn't mind doing the dishes. And she is a marvellous cook. And she loves buying me earrings. And she raised a wonderful son.

All grown up

Sometimes I hate being grown up. I am now that which I never thought I would become. Someone with a job. Someone who earns a salary. Someone who has to make important life decisions. Someone grown up. I deal with our finances, I get to decide whether we can afford something or not. I liaise with other people in the industry, I deal with other grown ups, and I am treated with respect - like a grown up should be treated. I have a signature on my email, my own medical aid card, and I run my own household. And I have my very own husband.

Today I just want to be small again. I want to go home and play until dinner time. I don't care what we have for supper. And then I want to beg for something nice for dessert, and (eventually) get what I want. I don't want to have to worry about the dishes, or the state of the house.

I don't want to have to worry about the new medical aid we're getting since our company was sold. I don't want to have to think that I can only join them if my ID document comes from Home Affairs, and that in the mean time we'll be sitting without any medical coverage. I don't want to have to worry about the fact that I attached my expired temporary ID in the hope that they will miss the expiry date. I don't want to have to worry about whether we chose the right option or not, or that the company won't pay the 50% share that they are legally obliged to pay (if they don't, we won't have enough money to live).

I don't want to have to worry about the fact that my future study endeavours (= my future in general) are in the hands of some Home Affairs official (who is probably twiddling his thumbs), since you can't register without your ID Document. I don't want to have to worry about money anymore. I don't want to have to lie awake in the evenings doing sums in my head.

I want to be carefree. I want someone to tuck me into bed and dream about sweets and sun and holidays and love and bunnies.

Enough

I wish I could give a certain someone a piece of my mind right now. And a slap.

I've really had enough.

This whole year a certain individual has been the cause of most of my husband's lamentations. I'd forgive you for (initially) thinking that it's maybe something he has done, or his attitude towards things, but the other people who are in the same situation as he is, feel exactly the same. Unmotivated, treated like school children, undermined, unsupported, and most importantly spiritually malnourished (in other words, bloody spiritually starving).

This whole year I've had to sit by and watch how this individual slowly but surely chips away at my husband's self esteem. I have even confronted this person about this issue, but somehow the blame was diverted. The worst part is that I just don't think that this person gets it. I don't think she grasps that she might be doing something harmful. We've tried to explain, but to no avail.

I am just so frustrated right now. I've had enough. I want this abuse to stop. I want her to know what we're going through - what my husband is going through, what I am going through. I want to make her see that what she says actually hurts. I want her to be in my husband's shoes; in mine.

I've been praying for a long time for God to change her heart. I'm so ready for God to answer my prayers right now.

It matters to me

People often say "Don't worry about what others think of you!", or "Why do you pay so much attention to what other people say about you?".

They make it sound so very easy. I find it very hard. Actually impossible a lot of the time.

Regardless of how good I feel about myself, my abilities, my choices and decisions, if someone (almost anyone) questions any of these, it matters. Things that I am convinced of, in which I am rooted, suddenly seem shaky*. I try to think back to times when I had such surety about these things. Suddenly I'm not so sure anymore. What was it again that made this so real, tangible and true for me? I find it especially hard to try to defend my choices and abilities. Even if what the person is saying is utterly ridiculous and just has no base in truth whatsoever, I am still taken aback for a while.

Only after I've discussed it with my husband, and thought it through a couple of times do I come to the realisation that they were, in fact, wrong.

What I do find rather curious is that when it's a compliment that I am given, it doesn't carry nearly as much weight as a criticism or a negative comment. For weeks, months (sometimes even years) I've carried around certain negative comments. Most days they are invisible - often buried deep as if they're not even there. It's only on certain days that they seem to haunt me again.

And that's when the comments come. "Don't worry about what others think about you! Don't pay attention to what they say!".

It's just not that easy folks.

Granted, I have gotten much better over the years. There were times in my life when my entire self esteem was built and depended on external sources. Imagine! I felt good when someone complimented me, I felt bad when someone (anyone) as much as breathed a comment that I could construe into something negative (10 to 1, it was probably not even meant that way). It was an emotional roller coaster from day to day. The unsurety of it all. When I look back now I see how unstable it all was. I am so much more rooted now. I know myself a lot better, and actually believe in myself enough to be able to assess the situation, and make up my mind as to whether this is something I want to listen to, assimilate and act upon or not.

But not before it has shaken things up a little. My mind likes to think the best of others, but always the worst of myself at first.

Recently, people really seem to be questioning what I have planned for the future. Immediately afterwards, I always seem to experience a bit of a dip. But after thinking about it, and discussing it with (wonderful-and-always-willing-to-listen-to-my-moaning) hubby, I realise that the people making the comments don't know me very well, and don't know where I am at: emotionally, spiritually, cognitively.

I guess the longer you live, the more time you have to deal with your insecurities, and discover who you really are, without having to depend on feedback from other people...

*The ONLY things in my life that cannot be shaken are my faith and my decision to marry my husband.

Butternut soup for the soul

I might as well be living in London.

You would never say this is South Africa in spring. Real soup weather. If only I could find a decent butternut soup recipe. I have been craving butternut soup since the last spell of rainy weather. I went through ALL our recipes books at home, and found no decent recipe. Today I have been on the Net for hours trying to locate a nice one, but they're all funny - either American (with funny ingredients), or they've got apple in it (apple in soup?!), or it's a whole long list of ingredients. I've really been on so many sites. Does no one have a simple butternut soup recipe for me? My mom has a brilliant one, but I am almost sure she is not at home*.

What is the Internet for, if not for THIS very reason.

Someone get me a SIMPLE butternut soup recipe!

Obviously the word "simple" is not very well known to your average butternut soup recipe inventor. All these recipes that claim to be "simple" have the most ingredients of all! And weird ones like leeks and fresh coriander. I'm looking for a simple one, people. Who has leeks lying around? Or fresh coriander growing in their garden? And no. Jamie Oliver does not count.

Maybe we should just have pea soup.

Oh wait.

I don't have a recipe for that either.

*As I feared, she is, in fact, not there (in my desperation I have even risked making private calls to Cape Town from work just to get a damn recipe for butternut soup...).

Why

Why do people not return phone calls?

Why do you have to lean on people for days before they get back to you?

Why does chocolate have to be so fattening?

Why is PMB weather so erratic today?

Why does prestic get sticky after you've played with it for too long?

Why do I feel like a whale the one day, and the next like I've never been slimmer?

Why am I scared of people in authority?

Why does my deodorant let me down at the end of the day, even though it promises not to?

Why do people use each other?

Why do people wearing hats always drive slowly?

Why do we never know what to make for dinner?

Why oh WHY does East Coast Radio ALWAYS play the SAME songs over and over and over again?

All in a day's work

So one of the big bosses was here for the past few days. I've quite enjoyed it - all of a sudden everyone was keen to work for a change. We all managed to find something to do for 3 days and somehow feign a stringent work ethic. Now it's back to slacking. Oh and we heard that Facebook activity gets monitored by the company, and if you're on it too long you get a letter of warning... No skin off my back really. I'm on Facebook maybe 5 minutes of every day. But I guess with my luck it'll be exactly the 5 minutes they monitor me...

As long as they don't catch me for blogging too much.

For some strange reason the big boss has taken a liking to me. Maybe because I help out his Direct Sales Consultant a lot - I process her orders, invoice out her client's books, check if her orders have come in etc. He kept saying to me how much potential I have, and that I shouldn't be here, I should be looking for greener pastures etc. Now, don't get me wrong, I really appreciate that he said that - it's nice to know that my potential is something tangible for others, but at the same time I feel like people just don't understand. I have chosen this road (as much as I have denied it in the past, this was a choice), and I really don't see the point in starting something new when we are moving away from PMB early next year anyway - I think it'll just look bad on my CV - chopping and changing companies every few months. Plus I think I am actually happy at the moment. Yah - probably in a bit of a comfort zone, but I do have a plan. I don't think I am being unfair to myself and my potential by being here right now. It IS teaching me something. I think I just get a little uptight when people don't seem to respect that.

Anyway.

We got a letter today from a guy in Ghana. He was applying for a job. It was really quite sweet. He had quite a broken English, and a rather crude handwriting. He claimed to have enclosed "testi monials" and school grades, but there was nothing. What was really hilarious, though, was that he had written this letter on July 1 2007, responding to an advert for a post at the shop dating back to 26 February 2006... I know this is Africa people, but damn. This gives a new meaning to "African Time". Does he really think the post will still be available after a year and a half?!? Even though we had a good laugh at this bloke, I did feel a little sorry for him. He did seem quite desperate...

All in a day's work I guess.

Jackie who?

I'm on the brink of not watching ETV news anymore. They just can't say "Jackie Selebi" like it's supposed to be said. It's not Jackie Sel-i-bi, folks, it's Jackie Sel-e-bi. Weird thing is they ALL do it! I think they were briefed on the pronunciation beforehand. Probably by some ignorant white person.

*SIGH*

Issues

Don't you hate recurring issues? I do. Not necessarily in others, but in myself. When I think about my life and the times when I've had "issues", it usually boils down to the same thing.

I wonder if all people are like this...

The bottom line is always the same. There are one or two things in my life that are the root of all of my issues. No matter how different the presenting problem is, the deep issue is the same. It's all about love and acceptance isn't it. Whether it's relationship problems, self-esteem issues, any other insecurities - the bottom line is that I am scared of being rejected (not accepted), and not being loved.

I think I have just solved the world's problems.

Did you miss me?

Feels like I haven't blogged in ages. My absence has been due to a number of reasons. Firstly I think I am currently suffering from a mild case of blogger's block. Yip. I just cannot seem to find anything profound or exciting or interesting to write about. Or maybe all the profound stuff that I want to write about is not something I necessarily want to share with the entire blogosphere. Nonetheless, I hope this will pass soon...

To add to that I was off work for a couple of days last week, entertaining my family who came to visit for a few days. And then, in a surprising twist of fate, work has actually been busy. "Busy" is quite a loose term, though, and includes chatting to friends online and uploading photos on Facebook. So there. But I don't need to make any excuses to anybody anyway. Right? I am doing this for me. This is Gnome's Gnomeland in which Gnome can do as Gnome pleases.

Blah blah blah. Am I waffling?

So I'm sure you are all dying to know what happened to my performance appraisal. Are you? Or have you already forgotten? HA. Well either way I'm gonna tell you. It went super well. My boss is really pleased with me, and I jumped up from a 2.4 (out of 5) to a 4.1 (out of 5)! Yay for hard-working Gnome. I really am chuffed with myself. I tried to peek at the other people's scores (nothing like a little healthy competition), but only caught a slight glimpse of a 3.something somewhere (WOOHOO). Whatever my colleagues' scores were, at least I beat myself - hands down.

So the time with my family was just so wonderful. We had the coolest day on Friday (it was finally sunny) - packed with activities from morning til night. I really like being around my family. They're really some of the only people I can truly be myself around. Most of the time anyway. I am, however, enjoying peeing with the door open, having fart contests with my husband whenever we feel like it, and walking around naked* again now that they're gone.

The only less desirable side effect was that the time with my relatives was one big FEAST. Instant gratification, delayed depression. It all went pear-shaped when they arrived and we scoffed pizza for dinner (got a great deal at Scooters - 5 large pizzas for R 105, since one lady - who was vegetarian - ordered Hawaiian [with HAM] by mistake)**. It was just downhill from there. Chocolates, cheese, more chocolates and more cheese. Picnics with cheese and chocolates for dessert. I think you get the picture. And we went out for dinner. And conveniently didn't have time to run in the evenings. So this week, people, I am eating less. No chocolates and cheese. Had a piece of cake on Monday though... Right. Starting today. Or maybe tomorrow. Still have some chocolates to finish...

*The journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is but a short one.
**Did you know that Debonaires doesn't seem to have BANANAS on their pizzas anymore?! I am totally never going to Debonaires ever again. Bananas on pizza rock.

Real time

So my mini holiday is temporarily over. And I'm rather disappointed to be back at work today. I've been having so much fun with my relatives (mom, sister & aunt) - despite the fact that we all have to squash into our little flat (I had to eat my apple really quietly this morning* - all rooms were occupied with sleeping people - I nearly ended up eating it in the bath).

It just seems like time goes so terribly fast when you don't want it to. And now when I want it to speed up it is really going very slowly. It's probably doing it on purpose to spite me. In the two days I took off work we did some really cool things, had some wonderful laughs (especially when we ended up having our cheese and wine picnic in our car - our very small car), and have just spent some quality time together.

I'm feeling a little anxious today. I think it is because they will be leaving again soon. And I am stuck at work with little to do. Wasting the valuable time I could be spending with them on Facebook or some other unworthy cause. Not that I can't survive without them, but more because I have been looking forward to this week for so long, and now it is flying by uncontrolled. A huge anti-climax is looming on the not so distant horizon. I feel there's so much more I want to speak about, so much more time I would like to spend with my sister, talking sisterly stuff, or with my mom talking momly stuff, or my aunt, speaking auntly stuff.

But I guess this is what it's like nowadays. I mean, who really still lives in the same place as their close relatives? We are scattered all over the globe. Thanks to Skype, Facebook, Gmail and other friends we can manage to stay in contact much better than before; even feel as if our loved ones are much closer than they really are. And those precious moments that we can spend together in the flesh should be cherished and celebrated and just enjoyed.

*Luckily paw paw and bananas can be quietly consumed - so I did this in bed next to my sleeping husband.

No games, just sports

I really hate being so emotionally invested in something as trivial as a bunch of men hitting a ball around a field and running between sticks. As much as we complain about this country and all that is wrong with it, I just can't seem to detach myself from supporting our team. It's like a family member. Even though they sometimes irritate the living daylights out of you and even hurt you at times, you just can't help loving them. As much as you try, you will never be able to stop feeling something for them.

How depressing was the cricket on Thursday night. We were all so psyched up for this game. Nobody really believed that we wouldn't get through to the semis - we were the only unbeaten side in the tournament. But, as only South Africa can do in the crunch games (and we do it SO well), we messed this one up ROYALLY. And now we are out of the tournament.

Right now SA cricket is like the uncle that nobody talks about.

I'm switching to rugby.

Washing Day

Once in a while disaster strikes at our place of residence. There are 2 washing machines that have to serve the needs of all the people staying there. They don't really live up to their promise of royal speediness (being Speed Queens and all), but they are adequate. At least when both of them are in working order.

Saturdays are a nightmare. Regardless of what time you want to do your washing, there will always be some bright spark with their sunlight soap and washing basket that is gleefully loading up both machines, having arrived only seconds earlier. Alternatively you will be greeted by the familiar swishing noise of water and a big red shining light: In use. I would love to just refuse to get up at an unearthly hour on a Saturday morning, but when you run out of clean panties, what's a girl to do...

We get around these little dilemmas by doing the washing on weekdays. My husband doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, so these have been deemed official "Washing Day". In the past few weeks, however, my husband has been pretty busy, so the washing has been piling up. He has managed to do a load here and there, but it never really made a dent in the growing mound that is our washing. Things were getting desperate (I had to start wearing emergency underwear - those with worn out elastic - and socks that have exceeded their expiry date).

And now one of the machines is out of order.

There was just nothing for it. I would have to get up at the crack of dawn* to avoid any physical harm brought about by "Dirty Washing Pile-up Syndrome". I've heard it gets quite severe. Rashes and that sort of thing. Nasty.

How lovely and crisp the air was this morning. I got 2 loads done before work without any hiccups. Never mind that I am falling asleep at my desk, and making really stupid mistakes at work today.

All is fair in love and washing.

*Our wonderful friends did offer us the use of their (private) washing machine, and we are definitely going to do the rest of our Everistic pile of washing there tonight. Thanks guys :-)

Job irritation

Why is it ALWAYS that when you do something brilliantly for months you NEVER hear any praise, but as soon as you make a single little mistake you are reprimanded? I think I do a brilliant job with the cash ups every day, I have NEVER made a mistake. For 6 months now. And today I get an email reprimanding me for one little error.
Isn't there something in the Basic Conditions of Employment Act against this sort of thing?!

I'm not sure if people think that we get a share of the company's profit or something, but ever so often we get people accusing us personally of the ridiculously high prices.
"Why do you charge so much?"
"You should give poor students a discount, you make so much money already."
It's note ME dude, I just work here. And definitely don't make money. In fact, I probably earn less than your parents give you every month.
Next time I am going to say:
"If you're concerned about the cost of education, try the cost of ignorance."

Girliness

After much careful planning we finally had the long awaited girl's night on Friday. I can't believe how excited I was. I wasn't always this girly...

I grew up very much as a tom boy. I'm told that I played with cars when I was small. Somewhere at the end of primary school I started watching cricket, and have been doing so ever since. In High School I would buy shoes in the men's section, and wear nothing but jeans (or shorts) and t-shirts. What I knew about make-up was scary. The only remotely girly thing I did was dye my hair (way too many times).

After Matric I cut my hair really short, and for a whole year people would mistake me for a guy (this is another post altogether though). I used to get really offended, and finally grew my hair again.

During my studies I had some girly girl friends, and they often encouraged me to pluck my eyebrows, wear make-up, and paint my toenails. They would even inspire me to buy girly clothes, or freely share advice on what I should wear. I liked being pampered. All girls do.

But I think it was only really when I met my husband that I started embracing this whole girl thing fully. I started buying skirts (and love wearing them), I got my ears pierced and ADORE wearing earrings. I love putting on make-up and straightening my hair. I wish I could go to the hairdresser more often and crave going shopping for new outfits. I just love feeling beautiful and girly.

*HELP*

I'm still not a overboard girl though - I still watch cricket (and we even watched the rugby at our girl's night on Friday!!), but I love being feminine and looking the part. I was surprised that I seemed to be the one with the most make-up at the girl's night!

I've been waiting the whole week for nice weather so that I can wear open shoes to show off my beautifully painted toenails... :-)

Unlikely friends

Ever been friends with someone that's just not your type?

I was (am?) friends with a real Durban girl. She is everything I am not. Glamorous, blonde, fashion-conscious, male-attracting and has tons of glamorous friends. I am rather takkies-and-jeans-wearing and at-home-staying, and definitely not blonde, and have a handful of friends. Yet somehow we managed to have quite a cool and even deep friendship. I've just been looking at her birthday party pics on Facebook. It was such an upper class affair... I just can't believe that I was friends with one of these elite, beautiful people.

It feels like we crossed a serious class barrier or something... I am actually quite afraid to see her again, in case she suddenly realises that we are actually, after all, not in the same league.

Performance appraisals

Don’t you hate rating yourself? It’s performance appraisal time again. We have this system where you have to rate yourself for the different tasks you do. In itself not so bad. But what’s really crap is that your manager rates you too, and I find it pretty embarrassing when she rates me less than I rate myself! I am always so careful that I don’t give myself more than I think I deserve, but obviously not careful enough… This time around I at least know what to expect, and I definitely think I have improved since the last rating.

Do you have performance appraisals at work? How do they work and do you love/hate them?

Yay for Zim

Didn't get a chance to blog yesterday, so this is a little late. But how AWESOME was it that Zim beat Australia in the 20/20 World Cup!?! The arrogant world champions were seriously brought down to earth by Zimbabwe. I am elated anyway when ANYONE beats Australia, but this was just such an epic victory. Aus were so full of themselves that they totally underestimated the feisty Zimbabweans. I saw an interview with some Zimbabweans on the news, and they were saying how much this victory meant to them. With the royal mess that Zim is in at the moment, beating the world champions at cricket must have instilled a feeling of pride, togetherness and happiness in every Zimbabwean. Sport brings people together.




Speaking of Zim, I got this email today, entitled: Paying for lunch in Zimbabwe:

Fuming

I guess I should have expected a curve ball. It's come in the form of another stock take.

What?

Yip. You read right. We did a MAJOR stock take just 2 weeks ago (1 September). But now our company was sold to someone else, and we have to do another stock take. Not even sure why. They're not even telling us. This means we have to do the whole spiel again. Pre-count (TEDIOUS to say the least), scanning every single item in the store, and then checking for variances. This takes a whole day. In itself it is just ridiculous to do another stock take when one was done just mere weeks previously.

What really gets my goat is that the stock take falls directly during the time that my mom, sister and aunt (from Germany!) are visiting. This is the first "holiday" (it's not even that, just a few days off with work in between) that I have taken this whole year. The Saturday in question is the day that my family is leaving and rightfully my off Saturday. I have taken the Friday off and was hoping for a long weekend (I nearly had that Friday taken from me this morning, but I refused). I can't even spend the last few hours with them and drive to Durban to see them off.

No one here seems to understand why I'm so upset. I'm not sure I understand it myself. I think it's just that I feel a bit violated. I will be working all but one Saturday in September. That's 4 Saturdays instead of 2. This stock take has just been thrust on us. No one cares if your family that you haven't seen in ages is visiting. No one gives a damn about your feelings. I am powerless to stop this.

I HATE feeling powerless. When I feel powerless I always have to do something that helps me take my power back - like cleaning the house (guess what I did last night...) - I have power over what it looks like - or blogging - I can say what I like - rant on and on about how I am just one of a lot of employees that are pawns for the rich (helping them get richer).

Sigh.

Wow. I really do feel better.

Blessings

I consider myself a positive person. Someone that doesn't complain (much) - especially not about trivial things. I complain about big things - crime, the country, orphans, and injustices. Occasionally I will complain about money, and about how purposeless I feel at times, but generally I manage to deal with these things effectively and come out with a positive frame of mind. I really think that we are fortunate, my husband and I. Even though he doesn't always agree. We have a nice* place to stay, always have food on the table, have a car to drive, a job to go to, friends to visit, and sometimes even have enough to go out to dinner. Best of all, I have the best husband in the world. And he has the best wife**.

In short, I think we are quite blessed.

Recently, however, it seems as though blessings have just been showered on us. I didn't actually realise it until today. And I am so very grateful. As if the DVD player wasn't enough blessing for one month, my husband received a bunch of (brand new) theology and philosophy books for free. I now suddenly have a clear idea of what I want to do with my immediate future (and this has really given me purpose again). The finances that were needed for this little venture have just presented themselves effortlessly (well, thanks to wonderful family members that phoned around the whole world for me without any complaints), even leaving enough to fix the car (which we have been waiting to do for AGES). Not only that, but careful saving over the last few months has left us with a little bit extra to spoil ourselves with. Then the wonderful visit with my friend from England was an unexpected bonus. And yesterday I came to a conclusion about my friendships that has really made me feel free and unburdened. And today a friend made me a selfless and amazing offer that I will graciously accept. I am looking forward to a Girl's Night on the weekend, and a visit from my family the week after. And this week our manager has given us an extra half an hour lunch every day.

I find it is SO much easier to give somebody a gift, or bless somebody, than to accept a gift or a blessing from someone. I am so grateful to everyone who has blessed us in the past few weeks. I sometimes feel like we don't deserve all of this. I am finding my thank yous an inadequate compensation for what you have given us.

Thank you, God, for putting these wonderful people in our lives.

*Sometimes debatable (with so much noise from the birds, frogs, crickets, loud kids and students seeming to come together in this hub of activity that is our home), yet still a roof over our heads.
**His words, I promise.

Songs I hate

1.) Any song by UB40. They all just sound the same to me. Not only that, but the lead singer sounds really bored, and I just don't like his voice. And he's not always on key either.

2.) "Shut up and sleep with me" by Sin with Sebastian. The depth of the lyrics is astounding.

3.) "I said I loved you but I lied" by Michael Bolton. Not sure why I don't like it. I just don't.

4.) "If you don't know me by now" by Simply Red. I just don't find it has anything to offer me. It drags on and it sounds like he's whining.

5.) "(Don't know what it's called!)" by Jennifer Lopez. I have not heard a more REPETITIVE song in my life. It's slowly driving me insane. It starts with this repetitive horn-sounding, up-and-down tune, which is repeated throughout the song.

6.) "Evergreen" by Will Young. Initially I had nothing against this song, but it was SO overplayed that I now hate it. Too soppy and just hate it.

7.) Mariah Carey when she sings really high. After "Hero" I just haven't connected with her music. Especially when she shows off by singing in a ridiculously high octave.

8.) "Hey Baby" by DJ Ötzi. Initially I could also handle this one, but heard it in Germany for months, and then again here in SA for more months. Just so overplayed and really mindless. It might be slightly enjoyable if you're really hammered on a tropical island somewhere on holiday.

Facebook success story

I’ve met a couple of people (including my wonderful husband) who just aren’t into Facebook. For a variety of reasons. Be it wanting to stay anonymous, wanting to let the past stay in the past and avoid awkward reunions with people you’d rather forget, or just to be a nonconformist. Despite some occasional irritations with Facebook, I’m rather glad I joined. And here’s why.

When I worked in England during my gap year, I met an array of people from different cultures and countries. When you’re so far away from anyone familiar, your survival depends largely on finding friends. I made many wonderful friends in my time in England. Most of which I have lost contact with.

In the past few years, I would often think back to the people I had met there. I sometimes even googled their names to see what the Internet would cough up, but without any success. There was one friend in particular that I would often think of.

She had worked with me at the tills. One day when I came to work, she was just there. I had prayed hard for a Christian friend (there weren't that many around where I worked), and here she was. She saw my WWJD bracelet, and we immediately hit it off. She was such a radiant, intelligent, humorous, deep person. Somehow it always felt as if we'd known each other for ages. There was no ridiculous small talk, it's like we would always get right to the good stuff.

Over the years, she slowly started slipping from my memory. With the event of Facebook, however, I thought back to those days in England. I searched for her, and there she was. What was even crazier than finding her after 6 years was the fact that she was coming to South Africa. To Durban to be exact.

In the days before the scheduled meeting I suddenly felt nervous. I had forgotten what she was like - what her voice sounded like, how she walked, how she responded to me, how I responded to her... What if we had changed? What if we didn't have anything to talk about?

Waiting at the beach I felt my heart pound as the minutes dragged on before her arrival. And then suddenly she was there. Sunny and radiant as ever. In a bright skirt and cheeky hat. And as we hugged it felt like everything was coming back. As if we never really spent that much time apart.

We spent time together until late that evening - shopping, chatting, eating, playing card games... I have been struggling lately with friends - ones that I've lost, and ones I never had. God gave me a great gift yesterday - in the shape of my friend from England. It's been ages since I felt so free to express myself, since I've laughed from the pit of my stomach, and could truly say that I was really genuinely sad to leave her again.

Thank you God for Facebook.

Arnold

Every once in a while I go through the contacts on my cellphone to see which numbers I can delete. You know, some people you meet once or twice, get their numbers, and then you never actually see them again. At the first delete cycle you hesitate to delete them. It's like cleaning out your clothing cupboard. There's always a chance that you might wear that top again (when you loose that extra weight - which you have been planning to do for years). By the second delete cycle you are more sure that you actually want them gone, since you haven't been in contact with them again. But it's only by the 3rd delete cycle that you are really certain that you will not need their number again. And so they disappear.

In some delete cycles you come across names that mean nothing to you. Like Arnold (as I discovered last night). I know an Arnold? Arnold Arnold... I turn the name over and over in my mind, but just can't place it. At all. I ask my husband, but he also doesn't know. Do we know him from church, work, our parents? Perhaps he is really important - a policeman who helped with the hijacking case, or someone from the insurance? He could be a stalker, or a pleasant grandfather-like old man.

Arnold will stay with me for at least another 3 delete cycles. Just in case he is important.

Pick n Pay

On my way up the stairs to our flat yesterday afternoon, I encountered a guy that works and lives on the grounds.

Guy: Sorry, can I ask you where you work?

Gnome: ***** (in retail)

Guy: Oh I see. I was having a discussion with someone the other day about where you work. We said your uniform suggests that you are a manager at Pick n Pay or something! But I said, no, she simply can't be a manager at Pick n Pay. I mean, you did your Masters last year!

Gnome: *Laughs* (awkwardly) and thinks she would probably prefer being a manager at Pick n Pay (and probably would get paid more too).

Guy: Well, thanks for not getting offended!

Gnome: (Grins while she lies blatantly) No problem.

*Gnome proceeds home and has a few glasses of wine (in short succession)*

Phonecall

*Gnome picks up phone and dials number of customer desperate for book. Phone rings a few times then is picked up but no one speaks*

Gnome: Hello?

Customer: I can't talk right now.

Gnome: Um. OK.

Customer: I can't talk right now I am in the middle of a meeting.

Gnome: OK.

Customer: Phone me at 12:30.

Gnome: Right.

*Gnome puts phone down rather irritated. If you're in a meeting and can't talk, surely you'll put your phone OFF?!?*

4 things

- Did you know that Luciano Pavarotti died today? I just read it on yahoo. He had pancreatic cancer. Not that I'm a big opera fan, but he was a pretty big star. Feel a little tinge of sadness.

- Facebook is driving me up the freakin' wall. For the past 3 days it has been so slow that it takes over 40 minutes to load, and then it doesn't load everything. Arg. Not that I'm addicted to it, but a friend that I met in England (and haven't seen in 6 years) is down in SA for a few days (in Durbs!) and we're trying to make plans to meet. But we're making these plans on Facebook. Now I can't get on and have had to ask a friend to go online for me and read her msg and respond for me. So frustrating and irritating.

- For once I am upset that Eskom got their act together quickly. PMB had a major power outage today. We got to a dark office this morning - no phones, no computers, no lights, no photocopying. We were informed that the power could be out until after midday. We were busy colluding with our manager on taking turns to go home, making plans to duck work at 1, when the printer gave an ominous beep, and we all watched in dismay as the green light on the computer screen flickered on...

- As hard as I try, I just cannot resist biscuits. Trying to ne healthy this week (salads and all that), but damn. At Young Adults last night, the biscuits were calling out my name longingly, and I had no less than 5 biscuits. I have a serious biscuit weakness.

Death

My husband and I attended a funeral today. For an aunt of my mom's. She was very ill, and died at the respectable age of 86. The service was lovely. The pastor said comforting things, and the general feeling was one of peace, and even happiness of her being released from her earthly bondage of pain and suffering. Even her husband said to us that he was at peace that she had gone - she was so ready to go, he said.

I'm not afraid of my own death. In fact, I mostly welcome it (going home to God). It is the death of loved ones, and leaving loved ones behind when I go that I fear the most. I spent most of the funeral buried (oh what a bad pun) in my own thoughts. As I held my husband's hand, I tried to imagine what it would be like if he died. I'm not sure I would survive. I don't think I would ever be the same again. I would probably move back home, and stay in bed for months and mourn and cry and wish I was dead. No friends or family would be able to comfort me, I would feel abandoned and isolated and raw and alone. Life would loose its meaning completely for me.

My husband says that when someone close to you dies, you feel things you have never felt before. You feel as though you are on another planet to everyone else that is just carrying on with their lives as normal. Life stands still in your bubble. I sometimes have this thought that at this very moment someone is experiencing their darkest hour. Someone's husband/wife/child/parent/sibling/friend has just died and they are in ruin and indescribable pain and suffering. Someone's world has just collapsed around them.

I am so lucky to only have experienced "natural" deaths so far in my life. I mean, grandparents dying at good mature ages. Not that these weren't sad, but they were more peaceful (long lives lived and now home with God).

No one close to me has been violently ripped from this life by car crashes, unexpected illnesses, or at the hand of another human. I am terribly thankful for this, but at the same time, a small part of me feels very much out of my depth. Somewhere in the future, I will be dealing with people who are grieving and will have had death thrust upon them unceremoniously and unexpectedly. What right do I have to penetrate their circle of despair and distress if I cannot identify them? How can I claim to want to comfort them when I have no idea what they are going through? It's the whole wounded healer idea, except I am not really all that wounded...