A little time in India

I recently went to India with a few people, including my boyfriend, father and aunt. It’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go but wasn’t too keen to go alone. In 2011, it was choice between India and Italy alone and I did Italy… and I’m glad!

India was always mysterious. You see Bollywood movies and IPL cricket games and form an idea in your head about it being loud and over the top. You watch movies like Slumdog Millionaire and hear stories of poverty and filth and crimes against women. But nothing prepares you for what it’s really like to experience India.

India is a crazy, hectic, interesting country. There is always something happening and something to see. We started in Mumbai, which is quite an introduction! It’s a noisy, crazy busy city with cars, motorbikes, people and dogs everywhere. It’s organised chaos. It’s a city where people are entrepreneurial and will make the effort to earn a living. A guy even offered to sell us his cute cat, Mickey (that was sleeping upside down on a cart) for 2000 Euros.

After Mumbai, we went to a few smaller towns to see the historical sites. One of them was Varanasi, the spiritual capital of India, on the Ganges River. For me this was a highlight because it is so spiritual. It has a certain feel to it. Not everyone in the group agreed. It’s a city where thousands of cows roam the streets, there are some bad smells and lots of people all there to worship and get blessed. Varanasi is one of seven holy Hindu cities and therefore a pilgrimage site. It’s where Buddha gave his first sermon. It’s also a pilgrimage site for Jains.

What really made India for me though was the people. They’re humble and inherently good people. I know there is always the dodgy, criminal element but we were lucky enough not to see it. Of the 1, 27 billion people who live there, over 80% are Hindu. We were told by a few people that it isn’t a religion, it’s a way of life. Hindu’s believe in reincarnation. Karma is related to this… the more good deeds you do in this lifetime, the more chance you’ll have of a higher birth (in the caste system) and with less suffering and hardship in your next life. Because of this, they want to do good for each other and it’s part of their daily lives. We were told that no one goes hungry, those who have give to those who don’t. The Sikh’s donate a tenth of their time every day to giving back and believe and practice that everyone is the same.  

There aren’t really any traffic lights or stop streets, they’re big fans of the traffic circle) but yet the traffic flows easily and there aren’t many accidents. The people aren’t aggressive at all and just go with the traffic flow, using their hooters as friendly warnings to make sure it happens smoothly. It would never work in SA – our high level of road rage incidents proves that!

Where the poverty is concerned, it isn’t your face at all. It is far more noticeable in South Africa, with beggars at every traffic light. In India, they’ll sit on the side of the pavement and quietly ask for help. It’s not expected or demanded, it’s almost dignified.  

I agree that it’s a dirty place. They have no problem littering although there is a government initiative to clean up the country. Rubbish is dumped anywhere and eaten by the animals that roam the streets – the dogs, cows, birds and monkeys. And having all those animals also creates another problem because well, they have to poop somewhere!
 

I also found the people very helpful and friendly. That’s not how my boyfriend felt… he’s way more cynical than me in some situations and thought that everyone wanted something. From my point of view, they’re happy to chat to a foreigner and find out more about people and where they come from.
 

For us, coming from a cricket playing country worked in our favour. As soon as we said South Africa, they started talking about the World Cup, how we didn’t make the finals (and us pointing out that they didn’t either), how good AB de Villiers and David Miller are and how the home team is doing in the IPL.
 

So what did I learn from spending time in India? We are incredibly lucky to live the way we do in SA and to have the average standard of living that we do. People need to be just a little bit calmer, less aggressive and a lot less worried about themselves and their little worlds. If everyone followed a similar way of life (not necessarily religion) to Hindu’s or Sikh’s and gave back in one way or another without expecting anything in return, life would be easier.
 

Perhaps the threat of coming back as a snail in your next life is the way to go for SA?

A fresh perspective

First off, I have been terrible with writing!! And as usual I will promise to write more, but now it probably won’t be about being single but more about the ups and downs of a new relationship and all of the serious and not so serious stuff that goes with it.

To explain… I am not longer single. I am seriously dating a great guy and have been for a while (by my standards). It all started with the new job. He works at the same company. He was a bit of a dick towards me and as a result I tried to avoid him. Turns out that’s his (old) work persona. But we had a couple decent conversations at the bar and started getting along. He was unhappily married and separating from his wife so had all sorts of things going on. I was just going on with my usual stuff.

The abridged version of the ‘how did you meet?” story is that one night after a company function a group of us went for drinks and he and I ended up talking until 2am and as these things go, had a bit of a smooch. It just grew from there. Because we worked together and not many people knowing he was getting divorced, we kept it under wraps and thought we were doing a great job of it… though we have since found out that was not the case. We approached it all like responsible grown ups and let the relevant people know what was happening to keep things above board, though it did take a handful of people quite a while to figure out why we were spending so much time together.

But anyway, it’s been good and all my people like him so that really helps! We have a lot in common and he seems to be enjoying my interests that I’ve introduced him to – which can be a bit strange, so that’s a bonus! I also discovered this festive season that he is so similar to my father it’s scary – it totally freaks my mother out. It’s not a bad thing though, after all my Daddles is one of my favourite people, so it makes sense.

As with any relationship, there have been ups and downs but mostly ups. We’ve been through some hectic things together (a serious post for another day) but that’s only made us stronger. We’ve laughed and cried. We’ve been on holiday together, alone and with my family, we’re going to India in a few months and so far we’ve both made it out alive and a little bit heavier. So all in all, I’d say a good foundation for a good relationship.

And my cat likes him!

Baggage allowance limited

I’m 36. I have never been engaged, married or had kids. In the grander scheme of dating, what does this mean? It means that the guys (my age) I date will inevitably have baggage. It also means that I have baggage, but just of a different kind.

Any man I date between the age of 30 and 40 will probably have had at least one serious relationship that ended badly, an ex-wife (hopefully not more than 1) and/or have kids. Him being single means that an important relationship ended and that now there is emotional baggage that will be carried through to the next relationship, whether he means to or not. If he doesn’t have the baggage, there’s obviously something wrong – he’s a player, a commitment-phobe or an asshole.

My baggage is different. Mine is of the living hedonistically and for the day persuasion. Of saying yes to new experiences and not worrying about consequences. There have been bad relationships that have made an impact, but all in all I have avoided the very serious relationships. But on the baggage scale, it seems to carry as much weight.

Either way, no matter what your baggage is, you bring it into your next relationship, no matter how hard you try. If your ex cheated on you or lied to you, you probably won’t trust your new partner as much as you should.  

So how do we get around it? I think it is important to see past relationships and experiences as learning opportunities. It is impossible to come out on the other side as the same person who went in. Whether you’re better or worse, the fact is that you’ve learnt something. If you know you didn’t react well to a situation or created a situation and it ended badly, don’t do it again, and vice versa.

When you start a new relationship, you don’t want to get into the serious stuff too much, you’d rather enjoy the happy, fun times. Inevitably, the serious history and baggage comes out and needs to be dealt with. You can either sit down and talk about it like grown ups or you can avoid it and bring it up when you have a fight. We all know which is the best option, we just need to do it.

One of the problems here though, is how much is too much? Personally, I don’t want to be asked for too many gory details about my history. Some of the stories are just not worth sharing – there is nothing to be gained by either party. For me, it’s stories about things you may have done after too many tequila shots, stories of questionable choices you made just because and things you’ve done but in the bright light of day would rather forget. And the big suitcase in the room for me is my number – it’s for only me to know, as is yours. Don’t ask for 100% disclosure if you think something will remind you of your baggage or create an issue for you down the line. You can’t unhear it. Personally, I don’t want to hear every detail of your last relationship, just the parts that will affect me and our new relationship.

Being in a relationship, there are two people to consider. You need to be understanding about the baggage each person brings. Have a little patience. It takes time but it does get smaller and much less important. You need to learn from each other, grow together and create new stories that will override the old ones.

I am going to own my baggage. My baggage is that no man has ever properly committed to me. I have done some things that would surprise people and that some people would not approve of. I have been messed around by men more than I’d like to admit. But this is all part of what makes me who I am. I’ve had that fun and collected stories and now want to have a different kind of fun, and create new stories, with someone special. I’ve dated the frogs disguised as princes and now want to date someone who is honest and open and not full of bullshit.

Closing chapters

As I’ve mentioned before, there have been some big changes for me this year, such a starting a new job. Maybe I went into it all quite naively but the people changes have also surprised me. And looking back, it happens every time you move I had obviously forgotten about it.  

You generally spend about 50% of your waking hours at work. You’re surrounded by people who have a shared purpose and who you have a varying degrees of things in common with them as well. Being in marketing, you end up working with very similar people. We share some basic traits, we’re mostly outgoing, enjoy being around people and use our right brains a little more than our left brains. So it’s inevitable that you form friendships. 

I am a person who does what they say. I try not to bullshit. I keep my promises as much as I possibly can. So, effectively, if I say I’m going to stay in touch or say we should keep in touch, it’s because I mean it.  When I left the last company, I didn’t send out the standard firm wide email saying we should all keep in touch and here are my details, because well, that would be bullshit. I didn’t know 50% of the people there a d really only wanted to keep in touch with about 10% of those I did.

And in the first month it’s easy. There’s a space where you used to be, you want to speak to someone familiar. But it then peters off and the conversations become sporadic. For me, the point of moving on is when you don’t reply to a message or make a plan and then just drop it. It shows you have no interest and that we’ve moved on, a case for ‘out of sight, out of mind’. I suppose that may also be the reason these people don’t even attempt to engage with you when they do see you. A bit rude I think, but fair enough. I’m sure it happens all the time.  

On the flipside, you get those people who genuinely are your friends despite the work connection. They make a reciprocal effort and make and keep plans to see you and catch up. It may not be every week but they do at least do it. And that’s what really counts. Of my closest friends, only 3 or so are people I used to work with.  

I’ve realised that sometimes you just have to let some people go, almost like my annual spring clean. You need to close off chapters and move on to other things and people who have different things in common with you. You learnt what you could, had some good times and some bad times, but in the end the friends who stay with you are the ones that matter and that you should really make the effort with.

It really is a case of if people aren’t adding anything to your life or your happiness, why are you holding on? Just let them go, close the chapter and look forward to new experiences with new people.

 

 

To cheat or not to cheat

I flew to Cape Town for a weeks getaway. First, being in an airport is like heaven for me with all the people watching opportunities. And second, it is a fantastic setting to really just observe people and their behaviour.
 
On the plane, there was a guy sitting on the other side of the aisle, one row forward. A girl came and sat next to me. They seemed to know each other. They made eye contact, mouthed words, smiled at each other. Throughout the flight they kept looking at each other not always at the same time. To me it looked like they were an item. A bit strange that they weren't sitting together and arrived separately. I then noticed she had a ring on her ring finger... And I don't think he's the one who gave it to her.
 
This whole scenario led me to wonder when it became so popular for people to cheat? This is certainly not the first time I've seen it and it definitely won't be the last. And I may even be involved in a similar situation at some time in the future (as I have almost in the past).
 
It seems that everyone is married these days. I feel like I may be the only one over 30 who hasn't or isn't. But what fascinates me is that the majority of men who have shown interest in me over the past 6 months have all been taken, whether in a serious relationship, engaged or married. I don't know if it's because I seem to be the kind of girl who is cool with that kind of set up or whether men just don't care and have decided to just go for it and try their luck or a combination.
 
Have the goal posts moved? And why didn't I know about it sooner? Or am I just inexplicably meeting all these people who are “monoamorous”?
 
I asked a taken male friend whether he could offer any insight into why I was suddenly being 'targeted' by taken men. He couldn't give me a decent answer. What he said was that "a guy sees your green eyes and big boobs and is immediately interested and curious. He then speaks to me and realises there's a whole lot more to back it up and the interest increases." Which is all fair enough, but then why just takens and not singles? Is it because the takens don't have much to lose if they strike out because they have someone at home to fall back on?
 
But what if they don't strike out. The girl doesn't realise he's taken (or does but doesn't care) and things develop. When does it become cheating? Is it when you form an emotional connection? When you send each other kisses after spending hours chatting online? When you start sexting and sending naughty pictures? Or when there is actual physical contact?
 
It's very easy to get caught up in something like this, especially when it's still in the non-physical phase. After all, it's just talk and no one is getting hurt right? I reckon that if someone were to cheat on me, I'd rather it was purely physical and not at all emotional. People need to connect with others on an emotional and spiritual level. If they're not doing it with you, and you're not fulfilling that need, someone else is. And that's a far deeper connection and it's much harder to break.

When talking about this with married friends, we all agreed that sleeping with someone once (especially if you’re drunk) is almost more forgivable than forming a relationship with another person. They also agreed that if you cheat, there must be something fundamentally wrong with the relationship.
 
Cheating is a symptom of something bigger that needs to be addressed. You’re not going to consider cheating if you’re happy. If you're in the position and have two options available to you, you need to figure out why you're considering the second option. Are you bored? Are you missing something and what is it? Is the first option ultimately worth fixing or is this the final straw? Are you fixing it for the right reasons - for your happiness and not for the kids, history, others expectations or because it's the right thing for everyone else?
 
It isn’t always that clear cut though. People connect without expecting to and without looking for it. Something as random as sitting next to each other at a friend's braai or striking up a random conversation in a shop can spark something. And it’s not the easiest thing in the world to walk away from, especially if there is a gram of unhappiness which of course seems to grow in relation to the development of the new relationship, either because it’s an eye-opener or to rationalise the cheating. 
 
I found some scary stats that were released at the beginning of the year. 57% of men compared to 54% of women have cheated in any relationship. If there was no chance of being caught, 74% of men and 68% of women would do it. Does this mean that people refrain from cheating because they don’t want to get caught – admittedly the associated drama, heartbreak and admin is hardly worth it! And in turn does that mean that most people would love to mess around because most people are unhappy in their relationships?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to judge. I’ve never been married so I don’t fully understand the dynamics and have never been in the situation takens find themselves in when these things happen. I’ve also cheated before – never slept with anyone – but still cheated nonetheless. I just find the concept and psychology behind fascinating.

And that couple on the plane… they were in fact married to each other. They’re just the disorganised type that check in late and have to take whichever seats are available.

A new beginning

I celebrated my birthday week a couple weeks ago. And I prefer to start fresh around my birthday. But in the lead up to my birthday, there have been some changes that will definitely influence the rest of the year.

First, I started a new degree – BA Psychological Counselling. I had applied for it when things had started to stagnate at work and was sure I could handle 4 subjects because things at work weren’t that hectic and were pretty predictable. But, surprise! I got a new job. And although I can manage it all, it’s a bit of a stretch. But next semester I think I’ll be a bit more realistic.

Then on 1 February, I started a new job. And it’s awesome! After 7 years at the last company, it took moving to a completely different sector (still in Marketing) with completely different people to realise that although I learnt a lot there I have been missing out on how awesome it can actually be! So, for the past 2 months I have been smiling almost non-stop and it’s a great way to be!

It feels like my life is bipolar. Bipolar or manic depression is when a person experiences highs and lows that can vary in degrees of intensity and don’t usually last for more than a few months at a time and the sufferer doesn’t always know they’re going through it. It dawned on me the other day that that’s how I feel. I’ve come out of this ‘depression’ into a manic (happy) phase and only realised once I was out of the dark so to speak. I’m into an upswing now and loving it.

Once I found my feet, I realised that I didn’t miss the old job at all. It’s not that it was a terrible place to work, it was just very different and I had outgrown it. People have asked me if I have moments of regret for leaving. I suppose leaving a comfort zone after so long can be scary and you’re bound to want to go back to what you know and what’s easy. But it hasn’t happened. Maybe it’s because things are polar opposites. Or maybe it’s because it’s really one of the best decisions I have made and I can only look forward.

I now walk around feeling all sparkly and bubbly and happy. And it’s not just obvious to me. A lot of people have commented about what a different person I am. And it has carried through into other areas of my life. This may just be the honeymoon phase and there are sure to be challenges up ahead, but I am happy to just go with it and make the most of the new me.

But new job aside (and a good foundation for happiness), I have decided that this year I’m going to do more of what makes me happy. I have started getting rid of things and people that don’t add to it. I’m looking after me and doing what I need to do to make sure that it stays that way. If I find something I enjoy doing, I’m going to keep doing it, like cycling at Northern Farms, taking photos and spending time with people I enjoy.

I’m going to try and be type of person I’d like to have around. I figure that like attracts like, so if you want to be surrounded by awesome people, be awesome yourself!

So here’s to a year of love, light and happiness! And new exciting opportunities and developments!

The end of an era

I was woken at 0:45 this morning by a message saying "Mandela died tonight". I quickly checked News24 and Facebook and promptly jumped out of bed to check the news channels and there it was. People gathered outside his house and a press conference with the ridiculous man we are supposed to respect as our president confirming the news. It was officially the end of an era and the closing of the final chapter of my childhood as a white South African child.

When I was growing up, in the northern (white) suburbs of Joburg, I had no idea that we were living under an apartheid regime. It didn't occur to me that I never played with black children or that there weren't a lot of black people. I saw them all the time at my house, my granny's house and at nursery school. I'd have long 4 year old conversations with Cain, our gardener, and watch him work while I collected snails. I'd follow Johanna, our maid, around the house getting in her way. Some of my favourite grownups at school were the black ladies who looked after us. I didn't realise that when we drove anywhere they had to sit in the back seat by law, I was just excited to sit in front!

As I grew up, I got the feeling that there was something going on. There were things happening in the world, on the news that my parents watched every night. I saw glimpses of the Berlin Wall coming down, angry Afrikaans men were shouting all sorts of things and shaking their fingers and then we got a new friendlier looking President.

When I was in Standard 5 (Grade 7) things really started to change. As much as a 12 year old can understand apartheid and politics, my father tried to explain it to me. But as it always happens, other people talk and the mixed stories and reactions abound. I heard about how the country would go to the dogs if black people had rights, if they released Mandela (whoever he was!!) and that we (white people) would suffer. On the flipside, I heard about how black people were badly treated and deserved rights. I never heard anything about the human rights abuses or what was really going on in the townships. I saw him being released and how happy and hopeful it made some people.

Time went on and there were stories of fighting and bloodshed between the IFP and ANC and about the general political unrest. We weren’t allowed to go to a leadership camp because it was too dangerous for us – god only knows what would happen to 3 busloads of white teenage girls! I watched the news once in a while and this "New South Africa" process seemed to go on and on... FW de Klerk and Mandela talking, the education system changing, flags and provinces changing and the rest of us trying to keep up. But still, there wasn’t much being shared about what had happened.

And then the 1994 elections were around the corner. My grandmother stockpiled canned food, candles and bottled water (as did a lot of white people!!). My parents hosted a Goodbye Old South Africa fancy dress dinner party where everyone got a copy of the upcoming ballot paper with all 19 parties (including the Soccer Party and KISS party). Times they were a-changing and we were cautiously excited!

I'd watched my parents vote in previous elections and the referendums but for some reason I couldn’t quite fathom this one just seemed bigger and much more important. The historical significance was not lost on me. We watched the live broadcasts that day of the looong voting queues in the rural areas and townships of these millions of South Africans who were voting for the first time. We watched Mandela cast his vote with a huge smile on his face and the faces around him. How could you not love him and feel optimistic?

Almost 20 years later, things have changed so much. We have been privileged to be led by the great man that is Nelson Mandela. Even after his term was over he continued to inspire us and give us hope that things would eventually work out and that we would be one big happy nation. He was the buffer between us and the incompetent people we have had in office, making us feel a bit more optimistic. If the ridiculousness of the SA government got too much, we had a happy place to go to….

But that's gone now. A legend has moved on and we are left with the clowns of parliament. We can only hope that the natural order of the universe sorts it out and recreates the balance that is needed.

Today a country mourns the loss of a remarkable man who guided and urged us on to a better South Africa and a better life. The world mourns a role model who gave them hope that things could change in their countries.

We thank you.

All in the name of beauty – is it worth it?

Three months ago I started taking Oratane, the generic of Roacutane. My doctor was reluctant to put me on it but after much persuasion and a liver test she relented. I don’t have awful skin but I am tired of random break outs at the age of 35. As far as I am concerned, they are for teenagers and I actually had better skin as a teenager.

Once I had my prescription, I started researching the medication – not my usual because I usually research everything beforehand. I wasn’t very happy about what I read. I had been told not to get pregnant, go in the sun and that I would get dry skin. What I read was so much worse. Sure, there was the pregnancy, sun and dry skin warning but along with that there is the possibility of nose bleeds, headaches, peeling palms, dizziness and that they may make you unhappy or depressed. Regardless, I decided to take them because it was only for 3 months. 

I also discovered that I had to really cut down the amount of alcohol I drank. I don’t drink huge amounts all week long, but after a weekend where I'd had a couple drinks, I got pains in my liver (which is surprisingly big and right under your ribs – thanks Google!), so that was the only sign I needed. I hadn’t pieced together that the liver test I'd had before I got the prescription meant something.

The first two weeks were fine. My lips got a bit dry but that was it. After two weeks, I started getting dry patches on my face. I started showering with baby oil and aqueous cream. The dry Joburg winter certainly didn’t help either!

The next few weeks were still bearable though my skin did become very sensitive to anything but aqueous cream. I had to use it as moisturiser because my usual one made my skin burn and left red marks as a result. Six weeks in, the daily nosebleeds started.

The last month was the deal breaker for me. I started feeling 'unhappy' despite the (herbal) happy pills I take. I just thought it was a bit of a slump, an end of year thing. Unfortunately it was not so. The 'unhappiness' they has warned about was kicking my ass!! I became super-sensitive, could cry at the drop of a hat and started thinking very dark thoughts. I over analysed anything anyone said to me (obviously with a very negative slant),  took everything as a personal attack and if someone turned me down, I took it as them saying they wanted nothing to do with me.

Living alone, I often found myself sitting on the couch wondering about why my life was so terrible, what contribution I actually made to the world and what the actual point of life really was. I decided that if I didn't have parents, I would've checked out (I've seen the effect suicide has on a family and wouldn't do that to mine).

I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone about it, that they'd say I was imagining it, overreacting or being a drama queen. After all, so many people take it and feel perfectly normal!

Not good!!

I spent a month feeling like I was living in the middle of a thick, dark black cloud from which there was no escape. It sucked me down and smothered me. To top it all off, my right arm got super painfully itchy. So itchy that it would wake me up in the middle of the night and end with me in tears of frustration and trying not to scratch holes in my arm (I was not very successful at that). I was ready to literally peel my skin off! I tried baby oil, three different creams and eventually decided to take 2 Celestamines – they would either stop the itching or knock me out, they knocked me out…  

I tried to hold it together, tried to give myself pep talks to snap out of it, work out harder at the gym to get the endorphins going, take extra happy pills but it didn’t help. I felt like I was losing myself and my grip on reality and who I was. After another terrible Friday evening at home that ended in sobs, I forgot to take my pill on the Saturday morning. When I realised by the afternoon, I was already feeling a tiny bit better. So I made the decision to stop. I only had one week left but made the decision that my sanity was just not worth it! I could take a breakout once in a while, but I could not take the consequences if I carried on taking the pills.  

Every day I felt better and within 3 days I felt like I was back to normal. I was smiling, laughing and enjoying what I was doing. I have not shed a tear since. I have finally clawed my way out of that terrible black cloud into the sunshine. I even hear bluebirds tweeting – or would if I was in a Disney movie.

I know a lot of people who have been on Roacutane with varying side effects. My brother took 3 times what I took in high school and seemed pretty normal to me, he just didn’t go in the sun. Other friends have taken it a few times and have nothing bad to say about it – though one did end up with permanent blemishes as a result of spending time in the sun.

The one thing I can say is that I'm glad I never took it as a teenager because I never would've made it out alive – the hidden side of my teenage years were not easy for me. I don’t know how some people manage to take it for long periods.

At the end of all of this, I have decided that a perfect complexion is not worth it, if this is what I have to go through. I would rather keep doing my sneaky little blemish cover ups and keep my sanity and my life.  

The Ugly Truth

My bestie got married a couple months ago. It was an awesome day filled with love and happiness. 

After all the excitement wore off I realised something that shouldn't bother me but does ... I am the only one out of all my close friends (over 30) who hasn't been married.  

It's not really about the wedding and all the surface stuff that goes with it, though I reckon I would plan a kick ass wedding! It's about the fact that in my 20 years of dating, no one has ever wanted to (really) marry me. The reason? Because no one has ever loved me in the way a guy loves a girl enough to never let her go or throw her away.  

Granted a few of those friends are now divorced, but they were still loved enough to be chosen and asked at some stage by someone. 

I regularly question why it is that people feel the need to be part of a couple until death do we part and why monogamy is the norm. And as much as I would like to think that I am happy to be on my own and not need someone to add value, I'm beginning to think that's not the case. 

After (blindly) being part of a couple for a while earlier this year I've realised that I quite like being a part of something. I felt like I belonged somewhere and that I was chosen. It's not the same as belonging with family and friends. Being part of a couple seems to satisfy some primal need, the need to be part of a bigger whole and bring what you can to that whole. Maybe it was the possibility of a light at the end of this particular life tunnel.  

But it was not to be. I was destined yet again to be the last man standing... Alone. And I'm angry about it!! He obviously wasn't meant to be but the fact that I was taken in by the right words and believed he was as sincere as me makes me angry! I was optimistic and thought the best of him and the situation only to have it bite me in the ass. It's also left me with a stronger need to couple up, which had not been the case before.  

I'm angry that I wasted my 'good space' on someone who didn't deserve it… angry that I have been forced to go a step backwards and have to start again… And angry (and a bit hurt) because it looks like it didn’t even register on his radar or have the slightest effect on his life, like I was just a passing mist.

But most of all, I'm angry that I now have this need I want to fulfil but it feels like the impossible! 

I don't know why, but we girls 'learn' that we shouldn't need a man and definitely shouldn't make it known. It makes us look desperate and chases men away. They don't want those kinds of girls. But seriously, it's what most people want (or say they do). So what's the problem?  

There are double standards. We shouldn’t need a man but should have one by the time we get to our 30's otherwise we're on the shelf (to coin an old fashioned phrase). So how does one avoid the dreaded shelf without needing a man (who probably put the shelf up)? Does being in your mid 30's automatically make you an undesirable? Does this mean that my window has closed? Or is 40 really the new 30 and I still actually have another 5 years to go before I pull out my step ladder to shelfdom?  

I really wish I wasn’t in this particular space at the moment. I guess it's back to square one where I start regrouping and recalibrating so that I can get on with things, alone or not. And who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and find someone to love (and keep) me in the process, without the bullshit! If not, I have my cat. And wine.

Break ups aren’t what they used to be

I don't even know how many years I have been single. And I mean properly single, not seriously dating anyone exclusively where I thought perhaps this could be the final one. It must be close on 10 years.

Don't get me wrong, there have been guys I've dated but only briefly. My dad always said I never gave them enough of a chance but to be honest, I reckon if you know it's not right why stick around?

I have been the problem a number of times... I have high standards. Obviously, otherwise I probably wouldn't be single. I prefer my partner to be similar to me in areas like lifestyle, intelligence (not necessarily academic just able to hold a decent conversation), similar values (family, honesty and a good heart), a connection and chemistry.

After a very bad patch and some bad decisions, I got myself sorted out. As they say, you meet someone when you're not looking. And I guess it's true. I was happy with myself and how my life was going. Unexpectedly I met someone. Someone I felt comfortable with and who I clicked with. All was good and happy!

But as often happens, it turns out we were in different places. It just wasn't as obvious as it had been in past relationships. And so I found out the hard way... by surprise and left heartbroken. Not a good combo. It was also a few days before I left for the US for 3 weeks.

As expected, I was initially pissed off, confused, crying and just a mess. But there was good that came out of it too. I was reminded of what awesome friends I have! They all threatened to kill him (of course!) and they all gave me so much support… super rich chocolate break-up cake, roses, company and hugs and messages. It made it easier to deal with.

Now that I'm back from 3 weeks on (literally) the other side of the world and back into the swing of the real world and old routines, I've realised that it feels like it never happened or at least happened ages ago. It's really strange! I think the holiday helped by removing me from the situation and letting me deal without other people going on about it. At least he didn’t leave it until after I got back! I would've worried that I hadn’t heard from him (I wouldn't have because his heart wasn’t in it), I would've obsessed about every little thing and not been able to just have fun and just be.

What has surprised me about myself is that I haven't reacted as I usually would. I'm not angry. I'm not plotting some sort of revenge. I'm not cringing or avoiding things that remind me of him (I'm actually embracing them!!). I'm not bad mouthing him and using my extensive insult vocabulary. My friends have taken care of that! I'm just keeping on and actually not feeling much about it at all. I think that this might be because I am a better, more settled person who is at ease and happy with myself. I think that because I was in such a good place to start, it hasn’t affected me nearly as much as it would’ve a year ago.

Another plus is that I probably won't see him again. We don't run in the same social circles, live in the same neighbourhood or go to the same places. We really have nothing much in common that would create that awkward, I want to throw up, see you for the first time situation.

A close friend commented yesterday about how happy and ok I look (she saw me at my worst straight after the break up), all things considered. And it's true! I am happy and I can't even give happy pills credit for it! I even had an urge to send him a very nice, polite message to say thank you for having great timing! Imagine!!

Dating in the 'olden days'

I recently turned 35. That means I've been dating for more than half my life. I was thinking back to what feels like the dark ages and how much things have changed. I suppose the change was inevitable considering the advances mankind has made in terms of technology and the way we live.

Of course it was before cellphones, smartphones, the internet and social networking. The boy who was interested in you or who was dating you used to phone you on the landline. You used to talk for ages until your mother threatened you. I remember lying on my parent's bed, talking crap, sometimes paging through a magazine. Now, if your man does call you, you can be doing any number of things…. driving, training at gym, grocery/clothes shopping, cooking dinner, working on your laptop or shaving your legs.

There was also no texting. If someone was late for a date, they couldn’t tell you. You had to wait or leave, depending on who you were waiting for and what you were doing. You also couldn’t keep track of anyone or see when they were ignoring you according to the "D" or "R" or ticks on a message and you couldn’t see what time they'd been online or what they'd been up through status updates. Although, I do remember the days waiting for the phone to ring because he said he would. It was agonising! And you also couldn’t double check his excuse for not calling. :)

Back then, when you met someone, you actually had to make an effort to get to know them. One of my worst habits these days is Googling people I meet if I'm interested in them. It's just so easy to find out things about people online (unless their Facebook privacy settings are really high) and then pre-judge them or come up with things to talk about that are of interest to them (within reason, I just can't bring myself to talk about collecting Japanese comic figurines). Now your entire life (or at least the last 6 years of it) is potentially plastered all over the internet. Where you've been, who you've been with, what you got up to and all with photos to add to the information.

Looking back, it also feels like dating was simpler, at least at a co-ed school. You started talking to someone at school, you exchanged phone numbers, you went out. If all went well, he asked you to be his girlfriend or if you would go out with him. You said yes or no and that was that. If you said yes, you were spoken for. You spoke every day, went out on weekends, referred to each other as your boyfriend/girlfriend and things were great. When you broke up, you broke up and that was it. Ok, sometimes you got back together every few months, but generally outgrew it.

These days, you 'chat', you 'research' each other, you go out and things move quickly from one stage to the next without anyone actually saying much about it. It confuses me. These days, you can't assume anything because there is so much going on and so much to keep track of that the chances of misreading a situation or gesture are bigger than before. Society has created so many different relationship definitions like friends with benefits, fuck buddy's, Mr Right for Now, and if you're lucky, the good old-fashioned boyfriend/girlfriend. To be honest I can't even remember when last I was called a girlfriend!  

Wouldn't it be nice if once in a while we could slow down and go back to the olden days where things were simple and you knew what was what?

Surf's up baby!!

I finally learnt to surf! This has been a long time coming and a dream of mine for ages! It all goes back to the days of the Gunston 500, Kelly Slater, Seth Hulley and Sunny Garcia. I used to watch surfing whenever it was on TV and had posters up in my room.

In 1996, while visiting my bestie Thelma in Sodwana, I tried my hand at surfing. Because if Thelma could do it, I could do it! I couldn’t. I ran in with the board and somehow got a teeny cut on my pinky finger from the leash. That was that, I threw in the towel and decided to rather sit on the beach and watch with a drink in hand. 

Fast forward to 2012… On Christmas day, my parents gave me the most amazing present of a trip to Hawaii!! My aunt lives there and they were there a few years back and mumsy decided that it is the most perfect place in the world for me. As I am the most financially challenged member of the family, they decided to send me this year. So once the tears (of shock, love and excitement) had cleared I started thinking…. H-A-W-A-I-I… WOOOHOOOO!!! And what is one thing Hawaii is famous for? SURFING!! *Insert butt wiggle dance of joy*

At first I thought I should just take a lesson or two when I arrived. Daddles suggested I ask my uncle to teach me. And then it hit me… I was about to go to Cape Town and stay with Thelma, in Muizenberg, right near the beach. So, I asked Thel to teach me since she is patient (partly due to the fact that she's a mom), would know the tricks and the simple way to explain it. I was SO right. Turns out all the practicing the learner surfers were doing on the beach is a waste of time. According to Thelma, the only rule is this… "when you get into the water, just keep paddling until you get to back line." And for extra emphasis, she screamed "JUST KEEP PADDLING!!"

So we walked down to the beach in our wetsuits (because the water is a bit chilly) and boards under our arms, feeling like we was in a 70's surf movie. To be honest, I don't think Thel was feeling that but I was, as a surfing virgin with a sometimes overactive imagination. The walk wasn’t as awesome as it sounds, I had a long board and it was a bit windy so I was trying not to get blown over.

Anyway, we got to the beach, (wet)suited up and I was good to go. After wading into the water to about waist level, I vaulted onto the board and got ready to paddle. Now, I train at gym almost every day but it means nothing since I don’t paddle at the gym. It was exhausting and I was stiff for days afterwards! Anyway, I eventually got myself out to back line and sat myself astride the board. It was everything I imagined it would be! That’s what I actually wanted to do, rather than learn any fancy moves. It was peaceful and quiet and awesome! Well worth the paddle!

But what goes out must come back in and I was there to surf! So, I tried… I first caught a wave like a body boarder (I used to body board so it came naturally), then paddled out again (but not all the way out) and kept catching waves and just generally having a fun time on the board (that I must mention really IS your best friend out there!). I laughed at myself when I face planted off the board when I stood too far forward. I accepted the knowing looks from seasoned surfers (the one's that said, "Oh bless! She's a surfing virgin!"). I also watched some of the learner surfers and stole some ideas from them. And it almost happened that day… I almost stood all the way up! I got onto my haunches and wobbled up into a half stand. Then I fell off. But it was great! And Thelma cheered me on, so it felt event better than I'm sure it looked.

The next day I could hardly move my arms, my abs were stiff and I had bruises on my front hip bones (I keep forgetting they stick out now!) from lying on the board. I quite enjoy saying I'm stiff and bruised from surfing rather than gym or cleaning the house. It sounds SO much cooler!

On my last day, actually the day I left Cape Town to fly home to Joburg, we got another quick surf in, just to cement the muscle memory. So we went with Thel's husband and hit the waves. It was a bit choppier than the first time and I must admit I was a little nervous. But we got out and I sat on that board taking it all in… the swells were very soothing that day! After a wave, Thel screamed at me to catch a wave and eventually I did (she is almost as scary as a Great White sometimes!). She had warned me that it's hard to get back out if you go too shallow and I found this out the hard way. So I decided to stay where I could stand and just perfect the craft there.

I splashed around in the waves, regularly flung myself onto the board (causing new bruises) and just had so much fun! But then, IT HAPPENED!!! I stood all the way up! It was amazing! I really don’t remember when I was that excited to stand! But stand I did! And I woohoo'ed and I wooohoo'ed loud and proud!! And I'm sure there was a crowd cheering behind me, but I can’t be sure… I was also privileged to see Thelma catch and ride an awesome wave… made me so proud to be her friend!

And so, I can surf. I won't be winning any competitions, unless there's a participation/sympathy prize, but I have done it and I can keep on doing it. When I'm at the coast, obviously. I can now hit the Hawaiian waves and tell them that "Yes, I have surfed before."

So in about 4 months, bring it!! And bring it hard!! But not too big, I'm still scared of big waves and head injuries…

A recap of 2012

So here we are again, at the end of another year. It’s been good and bad, but the more I think about it the more positives I can find.

Looking back at my first post of the year (5 January 2012), I can see how far I’ve come with most resolutions.

I decided I wouldn’t’ be such a control freak in my personal life. I think it worked… I’m more relaxed about things and try not to rely on people too much. If I want to do something, I do it, even if it’s by myself.

I wanted to have a ‘healthy, happy, real relationship’ with a decent man. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen. BUT, I did figure out a bad pattern and have been working on changing that. I actually didn’t really stick to anything I said… So I make an effort not to go for men who are unavailable in any form. I am also not here to fix people and deal with their issues for them.  

The standard ones I got right, I lost weight, went down 2 dress sizes, am much stronger now and I have blogged semi regularly.  

But recapping the year… on the positive side, this is what happened

I did a counselling course through FAMSA. It was awesome! I learnt so much and it also helped me figure that it’s something I want to do more of and that I may need to think about a new path. I haven’t formally used it yet, but I’d like to develop it. I have used the skills informally and seem quite good at it.

On the work front, I got to do some big and different events. The downside to that was burnout twice in a year (not fun!!). Luckily there some quiet months after that where I could regroup and get back to normal.

I had an amazing holiday with my parents in October. We went to the Kruger Park where we saw some amazing things! I haven’t been there since I was a kid, so it was great! It was nice to have some real quality time with them with no distractions. We also spent time in Doornkop, which is always relaxing.

In September, I went to Cape Town for my bestest friends younger brother’s wedding. It was the best one I’ve been to! We had so much fun, it was so relaxed and all in all a great weekend away. I got to know her daughters a bit more (and am now quite besotted J). I’m going back for more next week.

I have just been to Durban with my mom for my aunt’s 60^th birthday and the SA leg of my cousin’s wedding celebrations. I met his son and again am quite besotted. Everyone just seems to have the cutest, most amazing children! I got to catch up with family I hardly ever see, which is always fun. I also got to be a tourist for a while, something I also love doing!

I also did some really fun things this year. We went to Madame Zingara, saw Lady Gaga live (AWESOME!!!!), saw the Springboks play New Zealand (so much eye candy!), went horse riding at Doornkop (and was bruised in the wrong places for 2 weeks), went to a lot of food and wine festivals, discovered I can drink red wine again (WOOOHOOO!!), went to a couple H2O’s and danced my ass off, had fun times with friends and spent some good quality time with Caroline while I can. I also bought Red Hot Chili Pepper tickets!! I am so excited about that! I can die happy on the 4^th February (I’ll need a day to revel in the glow).

I really got into the gym and health thing. I eventually gave up my trainer at the end of September (not easy, but necessary). I think I now train harder than before and am stiff most days (I take that as a good sign!). I have tried to eat healthily but sometimes you just need a big glass of wine and a chocolate! I’ve also had a great year at dancing – great choreography, awesome friends and a guaranteed laugh at every class. I also started ‘cycling’ with my dad - nothing hectic, but I can still ride a bike and have done some nice rides with him. Hopefully we’ll do a couple in Knysna next week.

And I’ve met some amazing people! I don’t know when last I was able to connect with people on so many levels and in different ways. I have met some great guys who have helped me on my ‘journey’ towards becoming better and deserving better. (Not all of them have been great, but have still helped in some way anyway.) Besides the fact that they don’t live in the same province, it’s a start and a step in the right direction.

There were of course the not so great things. We had a tragedy at work where one of my favourite people was killed in a terrible accident. I did my spring clean and ‘lost’ some friends. I had glandular fever, with my first burnout. There was a scare with my dad and his heart, but it all turned out fine.

I learnt some very important things though. If something needs to be said so that I can move on and there’s a benefit, then I say it. It may hurt like hell, especially when deciding to cut someone out, but in the long run it’s a good thing. I’ve learnt not to expect too much from people. They have different priorities and that’s ok. Surround yourself with people who make you smile and laugh and who you know you can call on when you really need them. Family is the most important thing – they love you unconditionally and will always have your back.

So what does 2013 hold? I’m hoping for more fun and excitement. I’m looking at doing some different volunteer work, maybe counselling, community services, who knows? I also want to further my education in some way, I just need to decide how and where. I suppose I’m really looking for a new challenge overall. We’ll just have to see how that all works out…

I hope you all have a great festive season filled with family, friends and fun!

 

The fine art of (rain) spider 'removal'

I am terrified of rain spiders. Not so much any other spiders, but rain spiders scare me half to death. When I see one, first I scream, then I hyperventilate and then I find myself going backwards and forwards trying to figure out the best way to avoid the spider while running for the Doom. It also seems that there are a lot of rain spiders around these days… you’d think the word would’ve spread in the spider community?

I almost have it down to a fine art now and am very skilled at rain spider killing. I have had a number of different scenarios to test this on, though one or two of them I can’t take credit for the killing, just the screaming and running.

Scenario 1 – Christmas Day 2011 - Daddles to the rescue

We were in Knysna where they have rain spiders (I think they’re the females) with enormous abdomens (and I’m sure very scary big teeth!). So I’m about to get dressed for Christmas lunch, wearing only panties, when I open my cupboard door. Low and behold an enormous spider is staring at me! I let out a blood-curdling scream and run. Luckily for everyone in the house I grabbed a vest or something to cover my front. My mother shouts asking whether I’ve seen a snake (her biggest fear), which would’ve been much less terrifying to me! My dad runs into the room to find out who is murdering me only to be disappointed with a giant spider. He sprayed it then squished it (actually it was more like he beat it to death with a broom), leaving a big mark on the carpet. Needless to say, for the rest of the holiday, every time I opened the cupboard or picked anything up, it was with a flinging motion… just in case.

Scenario 2 – A spider about to enter the house

One night, I was about to hang up some washing and opened the front door. There on the wall about a metre from my open kitchen window was a rain spider. I knew he was thinking about coming into my house – I can tell these things. So I screamed, threw the washing inside, dropped a massive (what may be considered blasphemous) F-Bomb and slammed the door shut. Once I had stopped hyperventilating, I grabbed the Doom and slowly opened the door. He was still there. So I sprayed and he crawled towards the roof. I sprayed again. And sprayed a little more. He fell off the wall and then kept trying to climb back up. Eventually he crawled off into the dark where I couldn’t see him. It was then I realised a missing spider is far more scary that a visible one!! I threw a few buckets of water down the walkway, just in case. But that was the end of my hanging up the washing for the night.

Scenario 3 – Spider in the house

This has happened a few times because they have clearly snuck in while I’m at work. Or asleep (horrifying!!!).  Just the other day, I was walking around the house when I noticed something almost camouflaged on the carpet. Yip, a rain spider! He was next to a wall in the passage to the front door. I would have to pass him (by a metre) to get to the kitchen and the Doom and broom. I attempted to move, it didn’t happen. So I did what any sane person would do and climbed over the kitchen counter breakfast bar thing into the kitchen, got my weapons, opened the front door and climbed back out. I could swear my cat was shaking her head at me… so I sprayed him out the door and swept as well (left handed!!) just to make sure. And then sprayed him again outside for good measure. He eventually gave up.

 

These are just some of the scenarios in my current house. There have been many occasions in my last house and when I still lived with my parents. At least when I lived at home there was usually at least one other person there who was less afraid and more capable of removing them.

Should I get married, it will have to be to a man who is not scared of rain spiders. it will be one of my non-negotiables!

Fairy tales... the backbone of every little girl's dreams

There’s a reason fairy tales have been bestsellers for years. Like the Bible, it gives hope to those who read them. Little girls are led to believe that no matter what happens, she will meet her prince and after one kiss they’ll live happily ever after. Don’t get me wrong, I was a huge fan of these stories when I was little, more for the gorgeous dresses they wore than the story, but they do make an impression on you and set a standard for what you should expect.
 
There are a few series going around at the moment based on fairy tales as well and although they try and add some sinister scary twist to the traditional story, it eventually ends happily ever after, to an extent.

As an example, let’s look at the following tales and see how might would work out in the real world.

Cinderella

Cinderella was a slave to her step mother and sisters. She worked hard all day and then had to cook for them and got nothing in return. She also spent long hours talking to the pet cat.

One night, they all went off to a ball the prince was hosting, leaving Cinderella at home., where she sneakily watched ENews and Fashion Police. Magically, her fairy godmother appeared, cleaned her up and sent her off to the ball. She was given a curfew of midnight before her real life got in the way again.

She met the prince, they danced, they fell in love. At the stroke of midnight she dashed off and left a shoe behind. He then sent his people out to all the houses to look for her and find the lady who fitted the shoe. They found Cinderella, she moved into the castle and lived happily ever after.

The real story would go like this… she worked really hard all day and then came home to her cat. She ate whatever she could find at home, had a glass of wine and repeated the same thing week in and week out.

One night she decided to go to party, even though she wasn’t strictly invited. She got all dressed up with input from her gay best friend. Off she drove to the party. She made a decision to leave before midnight so that she could avoid road blocks.

She met a ‘prince’, they had some drinks, danced a bit and he spun her a story that included everything she wanted to hear… he was looking to settle down, there was something special about her (“can’t you feel the connection???”), he’d like to see her again, to woo her and to get serious and commit to each other. She thought, "WOW! I can’t believe my luck! I never thought I would meet the man of my dreams!"

At midnight, she quickly checked Twitter and according to PigSpotter, a big road block was being set up. She dashed out of the party [and there are 2 different endings…] (Ending 1)with the prince in tow. They went back to her place and had a night of passion and talking and cuddling. He had to go in the morning, but promised to contact her later to arrange a real date and start their lives together. She never heard from him again.

At midnight, she quickly checked Twitter and according to PigSpotter, a big road block was being set up. She dashed out of the party, (Ending 2) having given the ‘prince’ her contact details, including her cell number, BBM, email address, Facebook name and Twitter handle. She never heard from him again.

Undercover gym bunny is watching you

I’ve been a member of a gym since about 1994, when they first came to SA in a big way. Over the past year and a bit, I have become a very regular attendee at gym (usually 4 times a week). I go to the Virgin Active at Brightwater, within walking distance from my house (but only when the sun is up).

I used to go for about 45 minutes, do something that could pass for exercise and then go home. While I was there, I watched people (as I do most places), and entertained myself with their antics.  

During the middle of last year, I decided that it was time to get my shit together, lose weight and get serious about being healthy. So I got myself a personal trainer. After much research (of course!), I picked one but at the last minute changed my mind (as usual). Best decision ever! So we started training – the first week was hell! I couldn’t sit down properly for a week because my thighs were so sore and also couldn’t straighten my arms.

It turns out that working with a trainer on the weights floor (and losing a fair amount of size) gives you some ‘street cred’ with the gym crowd. Since then I have made some friends and I can now observe the people around me as one of them, completely under the radar. I have found that there are some standard guys/people that you will find at most gyms…

The guy who grunts
Recently a migrant (see below) came to train at our little gym. Apparently he does every few weeks. It was ridiculous!! He grunted like he was giving birth to horse! For everything! Even when he was using weights that were lighter than mine and doing tricep dips. And I don’t mean a little moan or heavy breathing… I mean sounds that you would expect to hear in the Kruger Park during mating season – and I’ve just been there so I know first hand!

The girl with the super toned muscles
This girl wears tight pants and usually a ‘top’ that shows her midriff. She has super toned arms, slightly over muscled legs and killer abs. The guys stop and openly stare at her. They call each other and whisper to each other. The reason for this behaviour is good old envy. They wish they had the abs and the definition and obvious discipline that goes with this. They do however, also wish she had boobs and was a little more feminine (muscled square jaws and bulging quads are apparently not that attractive). This is when I walk up to them, tease them a bit and then say, “well at least I have boobs…” As much as I admire aspects of girls like that, she obviously doesn’t enjoy wine and chocolate, probably ever. She must be really unhappy!

The girlfriend
She is the proverbial beard to her training boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, there are some who train properly as a couple. They do the same exercises and are quite serious about their workout. But then there are those who are there because I don’t think they’d see their boyfriends otherwise. The guys train 2 or 3 hours a day after work, 5 days a week. The girlfriends are easy to spot. They visit their men regularly, in between doing a yoga class, stretching and messing around on a ball, going through the motions of using the yes/no machines. Otherwise, they wander around or drink smoothies at Kauai. 

The migrants
These are the guys who aren’t regulars at the branch. They come in once in a while for a change of scenery. They also usually rub the regulars up the wrong way. They act like they own the place. They strut around in their vests trying to show off. They grunt. They hog the machines. They annoy everyone. Luckily, they only come in about once a month and are then gone again. Order is restored. The guys don’t have to resort to marking out their territory around the machines and barbells. That would be awkward…

The dancing teenage boys
Anyone who has been at Brightwater for a while usually at about 5 in the afternoon will know who I’m talking about. These boys come to gym in their luminous gym kit, with canvas sneakers and enormous headphones. They are always found in packs of no less than 3. They have straightened hair that they spend more time on daily than I do in a week. They don’t do much exercise. And when the right tune is playing through said enormous headphones, they will spontaneously break out into dance. But it’s not a regular, ass-shaking dance, it’s a Charleston, flapper/break dance/epileptic fit type dance. And when one busts a move, the rest follow with their own renditions – almost like a friendly dance-off. Luckily these don’t last longer than about 30 seconds each otherwise they would have anyone in the vicinity crying with hysterical laughter.

Over the past year, gym has become an important part of my life. I came to the conclusion the other day that if I didn’t go to gym after work most days, it would just be a matter of time before I punched someone in the face. It’s a great release… I get to stay healthy while watching these entertaining people and the endorphins aren’t terrible! Someone called me a gym bunny the other day, which I wasn’t really ok with at the time, but the more I’ve thought about, the more I think I’ll just own it. So yes, I am a gym bunny and proud!

Movember

And so Movember has officially begun. It is the month of moustaches (a lot of them just sad attempts) and not so attractive facial hair that goes with some of these ‘designer’ ‘taches. The whole moustache thing has been taken to a whole new level, including tips for Moustachery, the Moscars and of course an App.

The point of Movember is to raise funds and awareness for men’s health, specifically prostate cancer and other cancers that affect men. The men who register to take part even have a catchy name (like everything does these days) – the Mo Bros. Mo Bros become walking, talking billboards for the 30 days of (M)November and raise awareness around the often ignored issue of men’s health.

It’s often said that everyone is affected by cancer at some point, either themselves or their friends or family. In about 2004, my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Luckily he caught it early because he regularly had blood tests because his mother died of cancer and father also had it (but caught it early as well). So, from that point of view, I’m all for it! If I could (and thankfully I can’t!!) I would grow one too, especially now that the “Big C” has made another unwelcome appearance in my life and upset my tranquil existence. But that’s a story for another day…

So, Movember… My problem with the whole moustache/Movember thing is that, well, there are moustaches everywhere! There are Magnum PI’s, Mr T’s, the handlebars, the Walrus, the Village People (take your pick of 6!) and so on and so on. I am not a huge fan of facial hair and I know a lot of other women who aren’t either. But the implications for single girls in Movember are so much more far-reaching! What it means is that if you meet someone during the month of Movember, you aren’t really sure whether it’s a Movember ‘tache or a permanent facial fixture! Imagine the horror when 1 December comes around and the lamb chops don’t get the chop!? It’s quite horrible to imagine!

We need to be very careful. Because let’s face it, first, shallow impressions are important. If you see a hottie, sporting a “Hulk Hogan”, you’re going to think twice about striking up a conversation just in case, he actually wants to look like Hulk Hogan all the time! It’s a whole month of indecision and taking massive risks where the dating game is concerned.  It’s also a bit more difficult to take a guy seriously if he has a patchy, pre-pubescent looking clump of face fluff.

Luckily this only lasts for a month and like I’ve said for an excellent cause, so I guess I’ll have to suck it up! But boys, be warned… remember than January is now “Fanuary”! We will get you back!