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...

Social phobia 2

Here's another nail in my introvert- and antisocial-proving coffin.

When I go to the hairdresser, I really hope for someone who either talks a hell of a lot and doesn't ask me anything, or for someone who just shuts up and does my hair. I really can't stand it when hairdressers are all fakely interested in me for 30 minutes. I'd actually rather have silence. It won't even be awkward. He/she is, after all, rather busy with my hair, and I'd prefer their undivided attention to the task at hand.

I've had hairdressers commenting on the thickness of my hair ("You have really thin and delicate hair!"); the quality ("It's really knotting at the bottom here, there are split-ends, you should really cut your hair more often!"); and I've even had hairdressers reprimanding me for dyeing it. I mean, I know it's not good for your hair to dye it, but do you have to speak to me like a little child while other customers are sitting around waiting (and staring)? Arg.

I know small-talk has its place, but I find it so tedious when it's with someone you'll probably never see again. Does he/she really want to know what I do for a living, or where I come from? They're really just talking to seem polite. Maybe it's rude, but I refrain from small-talk with hairdressers, dentists and the like. Unless there is a future for this friendship, it's frankly just a waste of my few and precious extrovert genes.

Your front row

My colleague handed me a print-out of a story she had once received. It was lying on my desk for a while until I picked it up out of boredom and read.

This is, in a nutshell, what it said:

If your life were happening in a theatre, your life playing out on the stage, who would be in your front row? Do you have people in your life that drain you, that are a negative influence on you? Sometimes you need to love people from a distance. Sometimes people need to be on the balcony of your theatre. You should have people in your front row that lift you up, that make you feel special, that support you, and that are a positive influence in your life.

Even though this is something that I think we generally know, it encouraged me to think anew of my friendships. What do I really get out of them? Are there people that I spend time with that just make me feel like I have nothing to offer them, and that they are doing me a favor by being friends with me? Are there people who I feel obliged to be friends with when, in actual fact, I get nothing in return? Are there people I am friends with out of convenience, where the friendship is actually empty and meaningless?

Even though I have done some pruning in past few years in terms of friends, I could still identify some friendships that are empty and actually pull me down.

The question is, will I ever have the courage to end them, or would I rather have friendships that pull me down, than no friendships at all...?

WANTED

Gnome, Pietermaritzburg, desperately seeking a full 9 hours of sleep (after very inadequate rest last night). The following items could greatly improve her chances of having a peaceful night's rest.

1.) Mosquito repel device (ANY kind - just not repellent*). You know it's spring when you can't sleep cause of the mozzies humming in your ear. Gnome spent hours last night trying to slap away the mozzies. All in vain. The mozzie saw Gnome's dozing off as a go-ahead to attack.

2.) Temperature regulator. Going to bed with your feet hanging out from under the duvet, only to wake up feeling cold later, putting on socks, only to wake up again, sweating. Temperature changes during the night = grumpy Gnome.

3.) Bigger bladder. As much as Gnome tries to go back to sleep after waking up with a full bladder, there's just nothing for it. The trip to the loo is inevitable. And scary**.

4.) Noise extinguisher. Fate will have it that Gnome and her husband live in a place where a rooster does its nut at 3 in the morning.

5.) Simmons Beautyrest Individual Pocket Coils Mattress and Ace-sized (as opposed to Queen or King) duvet. Even though Gnome is quite a deep sleeper, when her husband moves around like he did last night, an individual pocket coil mattress and a larger duvet might have ensured her a few more minutes undisturbed sleep***.

If anyone is able to assist with any of the above items, please get into contact with Gnome immediately. She is very willing to negotiate about prices.

*Peaceful Sleep, Tabard, whatever you are using, the stuff might repel mozzies, but simultaneously makes you repell others (STINKY!).
**Since watching "The ring", looking into the mirror at night has never been the same again.
***No, Mom and Dad, this does not mean I agree with the separate bed/duvet theory.