I like 3s, 4s, 5s, 6s, 7s and 10s

Someone asked me to define crazy when I said that I attract crazy people. Being lazy I figured that I'd just copy the Dictionary.com definition. It's actually pretty comprehensive.


crazy
/ˈkreɪzi/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [krey-zee], -zi⋅er, -zi⋅est, noun, plural -zies.
–adjective

1.	mentally deranged; demented; insane.

2.	senseless; impractical; totally unsound: a crazy scheme.

3.	Informal. intensely enthusiastic; passionately excited: crazy about baseball.

4.	Informal. very enamored or infatuated (usually fol. by about): He was crazy about her.

5.	Informal. intensely anxious or eager; impatient: I'm crazy to try those new skis.

6.	Informal. unusual; bizarre; singular: She always wears a crazy hat.

7.	Slang. wonderful; excellent; perfect: That's crazy, man, crazy.

8.	likely to break or fall to pieces.

9.	weak, infirm, or sickly.

10.	having an unusual, unexpected, or random quality, behavior, result, pattern, etc.: a crazy reel that spins in either direction.

I could deal with 1s but only if their mental illness is under control somehow and if they have a bit of 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, or 10 in them. I'm complete unwilling to deal with 2s in any way, shape or form. I could be supportive of 8s and 9s but find them taxing. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, or 10 is just perfectly descriptive of some of the qualities I like in my crazies.

The weekend (and Monday) that was

The weekend started on Thursday but Thursday was spent removing cat hair from all surfaces, baking, and being firmly attached to my bed. The plan was to go to Betty's Bay for the rest of the weekend but my urge to do something else and go somewhere different took over and we found ourselves in De Kelders. We was myself, Trix and boyfriend and a couchsurfer from Germany. Trix found us a comfy, albeit horrendously decorated, low cost apartment. It was the Whale Festival and accommodation was not easy to be found. And not cheap either.

De Kelders is now my new favourite seaside town. We didn't get to explore the caves since they were closed but did get to hang out at the beach. I decided to brave the chilly waters even though I was more afraid of dead bird cooties than the cold. The water was decidedly pleasant and soon the dead bird was forgotten as I floated, staring up at the blue, cloud spotted sky. The beach later became known as Dead Bird's Beach but the I think the real name is actually Stanford's Bay. Whatever. I like Dead Bird's Beach better.

Later, after a few glasses of wine, there was the salad dressing drinking incident and other hilarities. We went to bed first ensuring that all animal skin carpets were out of sight and I woke up far too late the next morning but luckily no one had finished the delicious peanut butter cheesecake I had made. After finding the caves closed and the weather turning foul we decided to head off to Hermanus. We'd spotted a few whales before heading off and saw even more in Hermanus. There were even more whales frolicking in the ocean in Hermanus. I say frolicking but they were probably having sex.

After the long drive home I once again firmly attached myself to my bed until late Sunday afternoon, missing lunch with my mother but making it in time for afternoon tea. Supper was with an old friend from university that I haven't seen in far too long.

Monday proved to be utterly miserable. It's difficult to adjust to work after a 4 day weekend. My couchsurfer had to stay an extra night and wanted to take me to the movies to make up for it. We had sushi at Sevruga and I found it difficult to move after insisting on eating the last 3 pieces of sushi.

We watched Public Enemies and I can highly recommend this movie for reasons other than perving over Johnny Depp and Christian Bale. It's a top notch crime movie. It has a stellar cast but I wasn't mad about the female lead and would much rather have had some of the actresses playing cameos to have played the lead. Some of the scenes are far too long. And the movie was shot in HD. While some scenes are beautifully shot, others -incidently the ones that could have been cut, looked like they were scenes from some horrible cheap, crime reenactment show. It's hard not to fall in love with John Dillinger and some of his lines in the movie are entirely quotable.

What do you want?
Everything. Right now.


We're having too good a time today. We ain't thinking about tomorrow.

Things falling into place

You know when nothing goes right. When you make decisions and change things and you think, hey this is all for the better, and then it turns out not to be. And it's just worse. And you think how can things still be bad? How is it that I had this idea and it was suppose to be perfect and it's very far from perfect?

It'll be three years ago in a few months that I made a decision. A resolution. I'm not big on new year's resolutions but this time I made one. It was one of those typical one. I was going to get a new job. I made this decision when it became apparent that I was not going to be promoted into a senior position anytime soon. And that no position I wanted or was qualified for at my current place of work was going to become available soon. I was impatient. And bored. My job was fine but not particularly challenging after a while.

It took me 5 and a half months to get a new job. I was ecstatic. And that's where it all started.

Things never go the way you want them to. I had a new job and a fancy new title. I would finally be earning enough money to afford my own place, and to pay for my car and student loan. My work was sending me to Slovenia within a month and a half of joining the company. But I didn't get my passport in time because government workers decided to go on strike that month. So I sat alone in the office, looking for flats, while the rest of the new employees were off having a ball on the Mediterranean coast.

Flat hunting was not fun. None of the places were what I expected. And the ones that I wanted were out of my price range. I finally settled. I had to. My mother was now going to stay with me after I finally convinced her that she's better off divorcing my father.

So we moved into a flat complex with three hundred flats. We didn't have a lot of furniture and what we had was mostly borrowed. We were broke. The neighbours were inconsiderate. The flat was too close to the train tracks. And we couldn't get rid of the cockroaches. My rats died one after the other, from old age. Then one of my dogs died too. I couldn't get along with my mother. I had a major car accident with a car rented for work. My passenger and colleague crack bones in her back, shoulder and pelvis. I had a few bruises but I was shattered. I went to Barcelona later that year. I was promoted despite the accident and had to attend a meeting as part of my new responsibilities. I was glad since the promotion meant that I wouldn't have to drive that much anymore. While I was in Barcelona the geyser back home burst and my mother was slightly electrocuted. She didn't tell me about the electrocution until I got back but I'd already put plans in place to move. I had had enough. My mother went to stay with a brother and I found a great, new place in a neighbourhood I always wanted to live in.


The neighbours were even more inconsiderate here. I was still broke. The walls might as well have been nonexistent. I could hear my neighbours watching TV, washing the dishes, flushing the toilet. I didn't need to set my alarm clock in the morning since I was woken at four every morning my the beeping trucks outside. The bedroom and bathroom got no light at all and everything got mouldy. At least there were no cockroaches. Yet. One of the pipes for the pool on the roof burst and started leaking into my flat. The paint went black with mould. The cat I had decided to give a home was proving impossible. He'd run away and it would take me hours to catch him again. He would meow at the top of his lungs to be let out and destroyed the blinds trying to escape through a window. I hated the new job I'd gotten. I was bored and my social life was unsatisfying.

I moved again at the beginning of the new year. And that's when it ended. And something else started. I again started a new job but with the same company. The one I wanted when I had started with the company two years back but thought that I would need at least five years experience to get it. Despite crashing a few cars and hating my job I guess I still did really well and people noticed. I guess that moment when the carpet repairers left the door of my new place open and Noname sat outside, just looking, not running away, was when I first knew that this was it. When I was told that I got the job I knew then that the neurotic mess I was for an entire month was just a waste of energy. Because things had already started falling into place.

And maybe things started happening before moving to my current place, without me realising what it was at the time. My mom's divorce went well and she was able to support herself and pay off her debt with the money she got from her share of the house. Our relationship improved. I wasn't as broke anymore and started doing new, different things and meeting more people.

And things aren't perfect now. And it never will be. But it's as perfect as it can be. And I'm thinking if the pride I'm feeling right now is justified. Why should I feel proud if it's just a hodge-podge of things falling apart and then falling into place? Did I really do anything to be where I am now? I did, I guess. Even if it was only weathering the storm. I kept trying even though I was just so incredibly tired.

And I still don't know if it's worth it. If it's worth going through all that shit, for so long, then having some moments of happiness before things start falling apart again. Is it inevitable that things will start falling apart again? Is it something you cause? Is there anything you can do besides just weathering the storm?

These are metaphysical, existential questions for another day. My optimism right now is not allowing me to consider such questions for more than a trifling second.

I will just be. And things will be handled when they happen.

The weekend that was

Friday was a write off. I knew that from the second I stepped in my door, headed straight for bedroom and face planted on my bed. I stayed in bed, eventually moving my face and body into a more comfortable position. After reluctantly getting out of bed to attend to some business my body wasn't willing to go back to sleep. So I watched a movie, surfed the internet, and chatted to a friend who'd spent her evening much more productively at a club getting naked. Eventually I slept again.

After much uhm-ing and ah-ing about what exactly to do on Saturday after accomplishing 80 percent of my chores (removing layers of cat hair from carpets and tiles, laundry, etc.), I headed off to Stellenbosch with Trix and her boyfriend, Adam. To the last remaining indoor skate park. Adam is the skater, not Trix. En route, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin and winelands scenery, many a joke was made about 10 year old skaters. Upon arrival at the skate park I discovered the exactitude of our jokes. I did, however, spot three men, excluding Adam, who were capable of growing facial hair.

Adam, having already donned most of his protective gear at home, was attempting to secure his helmet to his head when I noticed that Adam was the only one sporting protective gear. Despite the sign stating that helmets are compulsory. Not even the 10 year olds were wearing so much as an elbow guard. After a few well placed sniggers, Trix and I set off for lunch.

Adam ready to take on the concrete of the skate park*

Adam the street skater mastering a ramp

It might just have been that I was starving but the pizzas were very good. After lunch we stopped at a Spar to pick some things for tea, hertzoggies and milk tart, true South African treats. We returned to the skate park to pick a somewhat bruised and battered Adam. We made another stop at a Spar closer to home to acquire ingredients for the burgers Adam were to make as soon as he'd showered all skate park sweat off him. At the Spar I spotted this:


I have no words.

Supper was the most delicious home made burgers I've ever had and I will forgive Adam his skateboarding habit just for this. I decided that we needed to watch Teeth.

It was terrible, but better than I expected. And it was HILARIOUS! I had an asthma attack from laughing so much. All the trouble getting the dvd to play (broken player and finicky Wii) was so worth it.

Overcoming the laziness from eating too much, I moseyed on home. I overslept on Sunday, missing yoga. The rest of the day was spent playing with Google SketchUp. SketchUp is a phenomenal program. So far I've made a kickass chair, following a tutorial, and a bookcase. I'm not sure if I have the skills, determination and creativity to design anything like the pieces on display in the warehouse but I'm enjoying playing and it'll serve me well to hand a carpenter a clear, simple design of the bookcase I want.




* Pictures are bad quality because Adam couldn't stand still long enough for my to adjust the camera settings.

I think a Tyrannosaurus skeleton would look lovely in my entrance hall

I'd need to get a bigger house though. And never mind that the Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton is likely to fetch between $2 000 000 and $8 000 000. I mean that's a lot to pay for something you can't even play fetch with it like in Night at the Museum.

One of the three most complete Tyrannosaurus Rex skeletons is set to go under auction at the Venetian Casino in Las Vegas on 3 October. Up for auction will be various other fossils, including a duck-billed dinosaur and a ceratopsian (same family as Triceratops).

Since Rexxy is out of my price range, I might just have to settle for the Woolly Mammoth (going for $150 000 - $200 000). I'd still need to get a bigger house though.

In other news relating to bones, a new discovery has been made regarding human evolution and the spread of humans from Africa. While new discoveries are always exciting, I'm a bit disappointed since I'm rather in love with the Out of Africa theory and with South Africa being the Cradle of Humankind.

And speaking of evolution, a movie about Charles Darwin is set for release and it seems Americans have not taken too well to it.

LotD/SotD

I watched Sunshine again last night. And let the credits play through. And this song just spoke to me.

Along the avenue of hope
The footsteps falter, the fingers grope
and days, stretch out, beneath the sun
No-one's born, and no-one dies, no-one lives, so no-one cries
and we wait to see just what we will become


Don't let me falter, don't let me ride
Don't let the earth in me subside
Let me see just who I will become


You're like the clouds in my home town
You just grow fat and hang around
and you're days stretch out beneath the sun


and you don't live, you don't die, you don't love so you don't cry
and we wait, to see just what we will become


Don't let me borrow, don't let me bring
Don't let me wallow, don't make me sing
Let me see just who I will become


Don't let me falter, don't let me hide
Don't let someone else decide
Just who or what I will become


Don't let them borrow, don't let them bring
Don't let them wallow, don't make them sing

I am Kloot is quite good. Very good. I am acquiring more of their music and will be unable to wash myself of the shame for not discovering this band earlier.

Be gone winter...and some randomness

I'm not a summer person. I don't like heat. I don't do beaches. I have to squint and don sunglasses if there is even a hit of a sunbeam peeking out from behind some clouds. I sweat just thinking about stepping outside in temperatures above 26 degrees Celsius. I don't like sweating.*

While snuggling in bed with that awesome blankie, a cup of soup and a good book has it merits, I'm getting anxious to do more summery things. To the point where I'm cursing Derek van Dam** when ever he announces yet another incoming cold front.

My upstairs balcony gets great sun and I've decided to acquire a lounge chair, so that I can bake in the sun, sip cocktails*** while taking in the activities in the harbour. While I despise the flip-flip and wouldn't be seen dead in them despite my recent yearnings for summer, these coasters would go perfect for lounging, cocktail sipping.

I also want to work on the garden that I inherited from the previous occupants of my house. It was much of a garden when I moved in but is now worse for wear with all the weeds that have made the garden their home.

And I want lazy picnics in the botanical garden.

But I just know it's going to be a "Be careful what you wish for" situation. Once temperatures hit 32 degrees and I'm incapacited, sitting in a puddle of my own sweat, I will be swallowing my words. But until then I can dream of days lounging on my balcony, sipping cocktails, and nights lazing on the bed with a magazine, a cool breeze gently stirring the curtains (as opposed to keeping all doors and windows shut, suffocating in the heat, for fear of the Cape Doctor unleashing a tornado inside my house).

I've been trying to perfect my WABbing**** lately. The internet is quite useful for this. I've found this great site, Information is Beautiful. Now I can waste 97.6342% of my day looking at utterly useless charts and graphs, like this one comparing movie monsters or this map of drugs.



* I'm adding this to my reasons for not going to the gym.

** Just found his blog. This will be the start of a beautiful stalking friendship.

*** I also need a cocktail shaker. And various cocktail alcohols. Wishlist updated.

**** Work Avoidance Behaviour. I used to be stellar at this at uni but since starting working full-time my skills have degraded.

Patron of boundaries and those who cross them

The role of Hermes is usually only said to be that of messenger. But he was "the patron of boundaries and of the travelers who cross them, of shepherds and cowherds, of thieves and road travelers, of orators and wit, of literature and poets, of athletics, of weights and measures, of invention, of general commerce, and of the cunning of thieves and liars."

Hermes takes care of travellers, miscreants, harlots, old crones, thieves and athletes with injuries.

He is "an interpreter who bridges the boundaries with strangers".

He is a psychopomp. He wears sandals with wings (talaria) on them and uses them to fly freely between the mortal and immortal world and often helps travellers have a safe and easy journey.

I've struggled with an idea of a tattoo of a symbol of a Greek God or Goddess for some time. Never able to decide on one for the Goddess of discord, Eris, or the virgin hunter, Artemis. Or both. And which symbol.

So, I'm getting the wings of the talaria tattooed on my ankle until I can make up my mind about Eris and Artemis.

Feel free to contribute to the tattoo fund.

All info courtesy of Wikipedia.