The Bastards

Okay, I don't want to be known as the chick who blogs about traffic all the time, but everytime I have to brave the N1 on a weekday, I want to scream "Oh, the humanity".

What the fricken hell happened to good manners and obeying simple traffic laws. I fart in the general direction of bad drivers and Eskom.

Y'all suck!


And what is is with people who insist on over explaining everything. Just a few examples :

Person A : The address is 123 Forth Avenue, Fifthville. Do you need directions?
Me : No, s'okay I'll use my GPS.
Person A : But it's really easy, you take this off ramp and turn left, and then second left, and the first right.

WTF? What part of "I'll use my GPS" is confusing? Or "No" for that matter?


Person B : You need to do a quote to Bill at ABC Inc. for two units, okay?
Me : Okay, no probs.
Person B : You need to cost it and send the price to Bill.
Me : Yup, okay, gottit.
Person B : Bill needs the price for the two units, which you must cost, alright?
Me : No, please can you get a white board and draw a picture for me. I don't quite understand. Was that, I must price Bill and send it to ABC at unit. No wait, I must price ABC and send it to unit at Bill. Okay, I think I've got it now.


In the last two days I have managed to stab myself in the thumb (behind the nail) on my right hand, and stab myself on the palm of my left hand.
My self destructive behaviour has reached new heights. I think I may need to talk to someone :-)

The Return

I’m baaack.

Okay, so you never knew I was gone. I was on holiday for three glorious weeks. I have been back at the office since last week Wednesday, but my keyboard and desk have been too damp from the tears to do any actual blogging (or work for that matter).

Anyway, nothing gets the year started like a good bitch ‘n moan, does it? So here goes.

I have a serious thing about the traffic. I cannot understand why one person cannot just be courteous and kind to the next. Why must every person on the road (except me) behaves like a fricken jerk.

My least favorites of the bad drivers are the "I’m all right, Jackers".

These are those people who move so slowly at that "right turn only" green light, that they are the only one who is able to get across, while the rest of us wait, fuming for the next green light, and hope, against all odds that the next person is not an "I’m all right, Jacker".

That idiot who idles their car in the middle of the street at your kids school, to wait the 5, 10 minutes until her kid appears at the gate. While the queue in the SINGLE entry way gets backed up 10km by those parents who will park (out of the way) and get out of their cars to fetch their kids from the gate.

I JUST DON’T GET IT.

On a much more fabulous note, I have the following to report about Ciara :

• She was awarded at a special evening for an outstanding achievement in Numeracy. Only 5 kids from each class were chosen for awards, and I am so proud of her.
• She turned 7 on 8 January - so happy birthday baby - wawi loves you!
• She started Grade 2 the next day.

I came up with some excellent ideas for blogs while I was on holiday, but I can't remember any of them, so, well, this is kind if it.

Sucky post, no?

It's all over for me

On Friday night I had the unpleasant experience of spending time with The Woman Who Knows Everything (TWWKE or Tweekie).

The discussion rolled around to someone’s sister who is 21 and not interested in getting married. Not surprisingly, Tweekies advise to this young woman was "Get a man and get married before you are 30, because after that it is too late!"

Seriously. She said that. With unmarried, 31 year old me sitting not four feet away from her.
So alas, my friends, it is too late for me. I am useless, destined to be on the shelf forever, passed my sell-by date. I may as well leave this cruel world, no man will ever want me (weep weep!)

And to all you young ‘uns out there. Please, for the love of all that is good, find a man NOW. Marry him IMMEDIATELY. Use threats, use force, just please, get him to agree to marry you. It does not matter whether you love him or not. It does not matter if you are happy or not. It only matters that you are married before you are 30!

You might end up like me if you don’t. Financially, emotionally and physically independent. Home Owner. Car Owner.


Only 24 working hours left. 1440 minutes. 86400 seconds.

A fricken long one

I truly haven’t written a word of substance for my blog in ages! I don’t care. I am tired beyond belief, and would like to know who the hell thought it was a good idea for me to STILL be working on the 5th of December, seriously . . . .

I have a little rant about a headline I saw somewhere. I don’t know where it was, and I never actually read the article, so my rant could be totally baseless, but whatever.

"BE A GODDESS IN THE KITCHEN THIS CHRISTMAS" or something equally ridiculous.

1. I can think of maybe a billion places I would like to be on Christmas day, and honestly, the kitchen is not one of them. Who in their right mind wants to spend Christmas day in the kitchen? Anyone?
   
2. I am a fricken goddess and don’t need to be in the kitchen cooking like a slave to prove it. I am taking my small family out to a really expensive restaurant, and paying for it all with the money I earned being a fricken goddess every day.
   

END OF PART ONE

In a completely unrelated matter, I saw an interesting blog entry by someone who I have never read before, don’t remember and will probably never read again. It was something about writing a letter to your 13 year old self, so here goes :

Dear Kerryn,

This is you 18 years later. Weird? Yes. Get over it. Let me tell you a thing or two about how you are going to screw up your life over the next couple of years . . .

To start off with don’t start clubbing and drinking at 14. It ain't worth it.

About the boys. STAY AWAY FROM THEM. M, A and I are all HUGE mistakes. These three boys will take away 16 to 21, and you will never get those years back. Sixteen is too young to be in a serious relationship. Just Say No!

I know you hate Science, but do not drop this subject in Std 8. You will need it, and be 25 and regret not taking it. The decision to not go to university is not a good one. Go and study Mechanical Engineering. You will love it, trust me.
On that same note, FFS study in Std. 9 and 10. Do not coast by. Put your whole self into it and walk away with something to be proud of damnit!

Seek out F. He is an asshole, but you will fall pregnant with a beautiful baby girl. Dump him as soon as you find out you are pregnant. It’s pretty scary to do it alone, but you will manage.

Forgive mom as soon as you can. You will eventually forgive her, but the pain you will go through getting there will not be fun. Understand her, accept her, forgive her and love her. It may not always seem like it, but she truly loves you beyond belief. She will be there for you in the years to come in ways you could never even imagine right now. She totally rocks as a gran, and you couldn’t be who you are without her.

I know you are not confident or self assured right now. I know being a teenager is scary and everything seems so daunting. You are worth so much more than you think right now. Realise TODAY, and not in 15 years that you are an intelligent, beautiful, kind, compassionate soul. Never doubt that. Not for one single day.

When Ciara is reciting nursery rhymes at 18 months, record it, cos no-one will believe you. She is a genius, by the way (as if you would doubt it.)

Take the friends you have right now, Gill, Jules, Kim, Linds, Mandy, Son and Tracy and treasure them every day. You will still be friends with all these people in 20 years, 30, 40, 50. They are the truth. They are what friends are supposed to be about!

Spend more time with Gary. Speak more with him. Be more with him. Don’t ask why, just do it.

So that's it kiddo. Good luck.

Ps. Keep an eye out for something called ‘Google’. Buy as much stock as you can, as soon as you can!

END OF PART TWO

69 more hours to go . . . .4140 minutes . . . . .248400 seconds

END

And counting . . .

I officially have 85.5 more hours of work left until I go on LEAVE.
That's 5130 minutes.
307800 seconds, no 307790, not 307780 . . . . .

Obviously, I can't wait. I seriously need a holiday.

One of the many, many reasons I love my baby

I'm not really one of those "oh listen to the cute thing my kid did" kind of bloggers. I can talk incessantly about her for hours, believe me, and sometimes I do, but not here.

However, this story is so Ciara. She is six (seven in Jan), and still very, very six. She has lots of time to grow up.

I fetch her from aftercare and she is literally BOUNCING with excitement at the tale she has to tell me.

C: "Mom, guess what happened today!!! Giancarlo said the 'F' word!!!!"

Me : "He didn't!!!!" I always say this to express shock and amazement, not to express disbelief. I'm crazy like that.

C: "And we told on to Mrs. T"

Me : "Good, that's a naughty thing to say, and kids really shouldn't be saying that word."

So, the story is told. I'm thinking about what to buy at woolies for dinner, and which way home will get me stuck in the least amount of traffic. Then about five minutes later :

C : "Mom?"

Me : "Yes sugar lump?"

C : "Whats the 'F' word?"

I can only imagine that she had been racking her brain all day about what possible word starting with 'F' could make everyone react so shocked.

She is so amazingly sweet, and innocent, and naive, just the way a kid should be.

I love her for so many reasons, and this is just one of them.

You rock my angel!

It's a mans world . . .

Being a woman in a mans world, I have had to put up with a lot of sexism from a lot of people. It usually just amuses me, it is fantastic to be underrated, you are always surprising people!

The following is a little extract of what has happened to me, how I would have liked to react, and how I did react.


Scenario 1
I answer my phone, with my standard
ME: Hello, Kerryn speaking
POP : May I speak to Kevin
ME : We have no Kevin, I’m sure it’s me you are looking for, my name is Kerryn.
POP : No I need to speak to Kevin, I need some technical info.

How I would like to have responded
1. Hold a moment, and then put them through to Jacob, the gardener, and told him to tell the guy on the phone his name is Kevin.
Or
2. Changed my voice so it was deep and said "Hello This is Kevin".

What I did
I said, I’m sorry I can’t put you through to Kevin because we have no Kevin working here, why don’t you just ask me, and lets see if I can help (I’m so fricken ‘helpful’ and ‘nice’.)

Scenario 2
I have done a proposal, with drawings and rates, and I know what is going on. I go with the boss (Mike) to the meeting with the client. He has just come back from another meeting and does not have any fricken idea what is going on with this project. So I give him a brief rundown in the car, but keep in mind he has never even looked at the drawings (this is not unusual, pretty standard for how we roll).

So we get to the meeting and sit down to discuss the proposal. Mike, rightly, says "I’ll let Kerryn take it from here".

So I give my very professional presentation complete with impressive technical terms and explanations. I use many laymans terms, just enough technical jargon. I have done this exact same thing seven million times before.

The client does not look at me once during the whole presentation, and when I am done, he looks directly at Mike and asks a completely random and stupid question. Mike! who, clearly, handed the presentation over to me!

How I would like to have responded
1. Keep dead quiet and let Mike sweat (this wouldn’t have been fair. He is totally awesome and values me because I am a woman and not despite it.)
Or
2. Said "Oi, over here dude, I’m the one you want to ask - were you not here for the presentation I just gave you. Did you sleep, were you semi comatose, are you still?"

What I did
I said "Excuse me Mike, if I may . . . . " and answered the guys question, and the other four hundred totally stupid, idiotic questions he had after that! I used my authoritarian voice too. The same one I use to shout at the puppy when she wees on the floor.

The client was like a naughty puppy who had just weed on my floor.

Bad boy. Bad, bad boy!

A bit about me . . .

How old do you feel? Usually 6. Sometimes 31. Rarely 84.

What do you believe is the meaning of life? Happiness (and 42)

Why is the sky blue? Because it reflects the ocean, hell I can’t remember!

What is your favorite thing to cook? Cook! Ha, ha, ha - OMG that was funny.

What would your last meal be? Something so fattening, the fat would block my arteries and I would just die right then and there.

What is the youngest age you have memories of? About 4 or 5, not many though.

What is your favorite thing in the world? I think it would be Ummm, I have lots of favorite things hmmmm my house?

What living person would you want to meet? Bono, and maybe Kylie - dunno.

What dead person would you want to meet? Leonardo da Vinci - that old dude totally rocked.

Where in the world would you like to live? Fiji

Who has the most influence on you? Ciara - no doubt

Would you rather be single forever with a great family or be with your soul mate and have no family? Single with a great family absolutely!

What is your favorite scented candle? Scented Candle - do I look like someone who has scented candles?

Have you ever read the bible? Yup

Who do you dislike most in the world? Mugabe & Bin Laden

What is your ideal date? Lots of laughter, great food and just a bit of alcohol

What is your favorite shape? A trapezium (WTF kind of question is this!!)

What color do you feel represents you? Seriously, what colour represents me? How about the blacking-blueish colour one gets when punched in the eye?

Would you rather be honest and poor, or a liar and rich? Honest and Rich

What is your ideal ice cream creation? I just buy my ice-cream in a six pack from pick ‘n pay. I like the Magnums. And MOO.

What is your favorite thing to do? Work avoidance by blogging and answering pointless questionnaires.

What is your favorite junk food? Steers, hmmm steers

What is the longest you've gone without talking to anyone? Ha ha ha - if there is no-one for me to talk to, I talk to myself. Me, not talk, now that's fricken funny!

What is your favorite board game? 30 Seconds. Although I’m getting quite fond of Rumble in the Jungle and "Up-a-bit"

What is your favorite book? I can’t really answer this question. Many books have left me with many different feelings. I can tell you my least favorite is the one I am trying to read now. It is THE MOST BORING BOOK EVER, but I am committed to reading it now!

What toy have you always wanted and never gotten? A Porsche Cayenne, but I’m still young.

What item could you not go without during the day? Food!!

Do you consider yourself smart? Oh poor person who wrote this. Of course I do, in fact I consider myself to be a fricken genius

How old were you when life was the hardest? 12 to 18

Is there anything you have to do every day? Umm brush my teeth?? Is this a real question? How about take a shower, or eat or shit. Um, ya, there are lots of things I have to do every day

Do you curse in front of family? I say "fricken" and "darn" quite a lot

If you had to get back with an ex who would it be? Oh Lordy no, none of them ever. Or could it be someone else's ex? Cos then I’d take Orlando, or Julian.

When was the last time you felt truly loved by someone? Every day!

What character trait would you change about yourself? Me, nothing, I am the very picture of perfection. Okay, maybe some humility wouldn’t hurt.

Which of your five senses would you give up if you had to? Smell - I think it would be the easiest to get used to.

What do you do when the power goes out? Play games by candlelight, then when Pudding Pot is sleeping I read by torch.

Would you rather spend the night out or in? Hmm, probably In.

I just had a heated discussion with a colleague about racism, and the fact that he is one, a racist, I mean.

I am shocked that people like him exist in this world still. It’s always an "us" and "them" thing with people like that and I am so tired of it.

I grew up during Apartheid. It was only abolished when I was 16 years old. The first democratic elections were held on my 18th birthday, and it is the only year I never voted.

I have a vision of "us" and "them" too. But in mine the "us" is those of us who believe in a future for South Africa, for people of all colour. Those of us who teach our children about acceptance and love and kindness. Those of us who have the power to change this country and to make it into something beautiful and free and fair.

"They" are those that diminish the beauty of this country by their viscous words and actions. Them who break the law daily and buy that car radio system out of someone's boot. Them who are so quick to blame ‘the blacks’ for all the badness in the country, when it is those very same people who are creating the DEMAND for SUPPLY, which means my house getting broken into.
Those who hurt, and steal, and abuse. Those who have no place in my world.

I was accused of being a naive liberal who isn’t realistic. Me, who spent R70000-00 on security in her home. Me who drives like a Meerkat. I am not realistic about the state of the country. I know the faults of South Africa, I know how much hatred is seething below the surface, but I have hope. I see the goodness in people.

I see that Ciara has noticed the difference in people. She has noticed that her skin is peach, and her friend at schools skin is brown. And that is it. She sees no class distinction. There is no superior and inferior. She sees nothing more than the only difference, which is on the outside.
I see the hope in that. I see the future in that.

I leave you with the words of Steven Tyler:
"If you can judge a wise man by the colour of his skin, then mister you’re a better man than I".

Entry the Tenth

I haven't got a lot of time, it has been the busiest week of my life . . . . . . until next week.

I have a few thoughts.

Number One:

This is Henry VIII

Not This

Secondly, what is with cyclists? Why do they insist on using The Worlds Narrowest Road at 7 o'clock in the morning. And I'm not talking about the poor dude whose only means of transport is his rickety old bike, I am talking about them of the 48-speed-super-duper-look-at-my-nifty-little-shorts-that-reveal-my-manpart persuasion. They can go to my nice quiet neighborhood and cycle all they want without the risk of being run down and bleeding to death while disgruntled motorists laugh and point.

I really, really don't get it. They give me road rage. I have bad, bad thoughts sometimes.

And finally - Umm, I have no final thought - to anyone reading - have a fricken fantastic weekend!