Yesterday I learned

1. I am no good at HTML

2. My side bar is too cluttered.

3. Being eight years old is the best age in the world.

4. Kindred spirits often have differences about really important things.

5. Sometimes I get really frustrated with those I love the most.

6. Men are really confusing.

7. Mac and Cheese was meant to be eaten with ribs.

8. Eating too much Mac&ribs make a really sore tummy when topped off with birthday cake.

9. At times, I am interested in nothing but sleeping.

and

10. I am not a ninja and should really stop trying to high kick the door frame. or Hubs' face.

Searching for Fool's Gold.

When I was a kid I truly believed that I was the richest girl in the world because I had a treasure chest full of gold. My foot locker had serious bling-age. Eye blinding sparkly goodness.

I was happy rummaging through my pieces of gold, emeralds and amethyst. I had even found a few precious white rocks from the gravel that I was convinced would turn into beautiful stones with time.

I was happy. I had my sparkle. But I didn't know that my precious gold and gems were merely polished rocks with a slight glimmer.

I spent a lot of my life happy with a little glimmer. I found the boys who would glimmered just a little, the friends with glimmer and the church with glimmer.

But that's all it was- a little glimmer.

The first diamond I have ever owned was given to me by Hubs. I still get lost in the sparkle and shine like I did as a child admiring my polished 'jewels'. Except I know that this is costly. This is real.

This life I live is real. The choices I make are real.

No more fools gold for me. No more imitations. I am no longer searching for more fool's gold.

Bad case of the Mondays

Some days I like to think that I am going to have a good day. I like to think this way, it keeps me motivated. Good day good day…

Until I get out of bed…

Maybe it’s a little post-wedding blues. Maybe it’s the changing of seasons. Or maybe just maybe it’s intuition being a bitch. I can feel when my days are going to be crappy. It’s my gift and my curse. The days when Hubs moved the soap so far away that I can’t reach it from the bath or when he used the last of the loo paper without replacing the roll, I just know deep in my gut that I should go straight back to bed.

But I don’t. I trudge on. Trudging means hope. Hope that tomorrow will be smoother. Hope that in a few weeks I will catch a breath. Hope that in the end things will get better. I will be okay.

That’s what I choose to believe anyway.

Maybe if I believe in unicorns strong enough too they might just collect me to take me on a magical ride…

*sigh* ...Magical ride...




Although, in actual fact, I hate horses. And that picture completely freaks me the heck out. So nevermind. I'll deal very happily with the misplaced soap and lack of loo paper thank you very much!

A Moment to Muse.

Growing up is difficult.

Growing up means dirty dishes, dirty laundry and dirty bath tubs. It means late night dinners, early morning breakfasts and the occasional forgotten lunch.

Growing up means no more ‘free food’, ‘free internet’, ‘free television’, It means quiet in you home. It means organising cupboards and knowing where the knives are actually kept.

Growing up means late night parties. Sometimes means eating cookies for dinner and cleaning my own throw-up… Taking him to the doctor, the dentist and the grocery store.

Growing up means constant nostalgia. It means quiet aching. It means mine and yours and ours.

Growing up is difficult. Growing up is grand. Growing up and stepping out and testing the land.

Sometimes finding it stable and sometimes it’s merely sand.

The Wedding overview

Ok guyus. this is the last post I'll post about the wedding. Unless of course you HAVE to hear more... But then even that is a gamble. There is just so much going on in my day that I can barely breathe nevermind think about how glorious my wedding was.

So here is the final post about the wedding. Next I promise to bring back the humourous, snarky insightful writer you all fell in love with (please you are too kind)

Here are our centrepieces:


We sunk gladiolas, roses and... get this... chillies... in vases.

This is our guest book. We had a scrapbook for our guests, they signes and decorated the page as they liked and we took their photo to place on the designated square. It was a huge hit. Awesome.



This is the hall we held our reception in:




The arches sasid, Cherish, dream and live. Our wedding theme was: "Cherish yesterday, dream tomorrow, live today".

Here's where I met my groom. My baby sister is behind me. Love it.








Random Photos...













Love it!

I won!

I came back today from my extreme camping trip to see that I won Hillbilly's giveaway! Needless to say I am so very excited! Thanks again to her and her fabulous Husband for choosing me! I suppose I should begin thinking of my own giveaway! Would ya'll be keen on something South African? Or something more fabulously chic? Weigh in and I'll keep my eyes open!

The camping trip was amazing! Thanks for hanging in there with the scheduled posts. Although it looks like only a few actually posted. Ehm. Lame. I would care more but last night I was caught in a ferocious thunderstorm and yeah, nearly died. Ok not really but it kinda felt like it.

It looks like I did promise a sneak peek at the invites. I have to be honest A good little blogger would blur out all the names and yadda yadda. So if you are planning on stalking me, please don't. Thanks.

Here was our inspiration: The Fi and I saw this on theknot and LOVED it.



We made a bit less stark and more elegant using, of course, chocolate brown and red! I tried really hard to get a good picture of it but this was the best I got:


It was very exciting giving them to our friends and family. Sorry Grandma, yours will be posted soon! Just waiting to hear from Ann about her or Grandpa's postal address :)(Shameless I know! :) )

The presence of wrinkles made me rethink life

No longer can I look surprised. This facial expression has just become dis-allowed. There is a presence of not one, not two, but three! Wrinkles. On. My. Forehead. ALAS!

Add these to the beginnings of crow-feet on my eyes.... I’m just biding my time before I am a wrinkly saggy woman with a cat on my lap screaming at the neighbourhood kids to stay out of my precious petunias. Oh Lament!

I can see it now... AHK!

The Pursuit of the Grown Up Within Me

I live in-between worlds at the moment. I am not yet married, but no longer single. I am an adult back living with my parents. I am no longer a student, but don’t really have a steady job yet. I kind of have a position here and there but still drift in almost unemployment. I am almost registered at the distance learning institution but not quite. I still have to find the funds for the first instalment of payment. I am kind of this and kind of that but not definitively in anything.

I am not normally this girl. I usually have a plan A, a plan B and if all else fails, a miserable plan C. I bounce between plan A, B and C but never ever drift between. So this is new and strange to me. I like categorising myself. Giving words to myself makes me feel more understood by myself and even more place-able in the world.

Most of my dissatisfaction stems from my own confusion regarding my studies. I love studying. However I love the Fi more. And so I have to compromise. He is also compromising in his own elements for me and I do not feel at all cheated by this concept. Instead of returning to a University to attend formal lectures, I have opted to study via correspondence. Since the Fi is changing jobs to a company in the East Rand (40 minutes without traffic from Pretoria) I just cannot envision myself having the patience to drive everyday to Pretoria. Maybe for a few weeks but since I want my Masters in English; I cannot promise doing it for a few years. I am just not that motivated. I currently battle to walk the 15 minutes to my lectures. See? Would not happen.

Other motivations are perhaps more personal and revolve around my desire to not tax my marriage from the start, personal convictions about the importance of an education, and that burning edge to get a head start in the writing business are all feeding my hurry to get enrolled.

Not everyone is seeing it this way. The disapproval is based on many of my seemingly bad choices. I am again reduced to that little girl who cannot remember how to tie her shoelace. Ugh! This shouldn’t affect me. I’m too... me to need the green light from others. But I have to be honest here. I need this green light. I need that acceptance.

But I am not going to get it.

I guess this is how one grows up. They make decisions despite their approval rating and take responsibility regardless if it flounders or flourishes. Maybe they drift in-between until they decide and move forward.

So here I am deciding. Moving.

Hoping this doesn’t bite me in the ass.

Cultured is now the politically correct term for Geek.

The last exam I wrote was my English grammar exam. *yes I realise that despite this class I sometimes say a lot of crap very badly*

Anyhow, We were waiting for the exam to begin when people sitting behind me began this convo:

Chick #1: What do you think about this class?

Chick #2: I think it's lame. Who could possibly enjoy a class about grammar. Its like, so boring.

Dude #1: You'd be surprised.

Chick #1: Ya, there are people who actually specialise in this subject.

Chick #2: Holy Crap! You're kidding! How geeky is that?!

Me: (shrink down staring and the giant yellow card in front of me... the yellow card that betrays my field of study. Yes, I am the geeky connoisseur of the English Language who is indeed specialising in grammar.)

My friend Pookie (She would hate knowing that I just called her that in public) has called me a geek since I moved to SA. I didn't read the right magazines, or watch the right TV shows. I did not attend the awesome parties even though I was invited (which apparently is the epitome of Geek-dom I guess). I listened to rock and roll. I tried to read as many books about as much as I could (which might actually BE the epitome of Geek-dom).

But I have decided. Geek is SO last year and now Cultured is the politically correct term and more widely accepted way to refer to us... special people. Plus it sounds more fabulous. And me? I am fabulous. or something. *sniff

End of year blues? No ways!!

The kitchen tea was oodles of fun. My lovely friends dressed me in kitchen towels, gloves and irons. They made me eat salt. They gave me embarrassing gifts and beautiful items for my home. I was questioned relentlessly about how to remove stains from this and stains from that. (My best answer- pour lemon juice on it. If that doesn't work? Burn it.) Let's just say my housekeeping skills might need some serious developing. Apparently getting crayon wax off a wall only requires the use of toothpaste! (Someone give it a try and let me know if it works! :) )

We sat together eating cupcakes, drinking tea (champagne) :) and discussing life. Creeping into the conversation was, of course, the end of the year. We all move out of our flats in November. We are losing each other. Not everyone is as pessimistic as I - some of my other friends will be seeing each other next year. My flatmates though? One will resume living in our home. The other is moving back with her folks and getting an apprenticeship and I am getting married. Off we go to experience our different lives separately.

These girls have helped me with so much. They have brought me joy in the weeks when I could find none. They checked on me when I was so sick that I could have died. (Really I could have! No one else thought so. But honest. I could have died!) These girls prayed with me. They cried with me. We discussed politics, history, men, sex, world dominance and the future. We've had long conversations about the idea of edible panties, hijacking a chopper, and the politically correct term for male defecation. We know each other's mannerisms and quirks in the way that only flatmates can know each other. This year has taught me so much and they are so intrinsically linked to these lessons that I can't possibly lose their friendship.

So as the end of the year approaches I am filled with more excitement than fear because with each of us on our separate paths we can still carry each other. The lessons we have learned together - the ideas we have formed together- these will forever link us. Plus, gosh darn it they are coming to my first dinner party as a grown up married woman. And like duh! That's going to rock out! :)

Documenting the Past....

I am currently making a scrapbook of all my junk. I am a compulsive keeper of papers and greeting cards starting back from when I was in the 3rd grade. I've got 'love letters' from high-school crushes, notes of concern and encouragement from my parents, and the random eccentric drawings that my mates drew me while we were supposed to be studying. The intrigue behind the actual objects of this sentimental collection is actually minimal. My life is pretty ordinary. However, as I read each note, letter and scrap of paper I remember individual stories that I've totally forgotten! I've realised that my life-stories are insane and I've seen how each has salted my personal life view. It's so refreshing to go back to the centre of your beliefs and re-capture the behind a new discovery or the pain inside teenage heartbreak. I can't wait to show off my new scrapbook to all those I love and share with them the enthusiasm and those ridiculous stories about my crazy neighbors!!!