Learn to love it

We've all been in these situations.... knee deep in debt, financial problems and crap. I've been there, done that, still in it.

However, my perceptions have changed. And when you perceptions change, your reality does as well.

A wise friend told me that we have to learn to love debt - not in the way of loving financial problems - but removing the control aspect it has over us. Finally, I now understand what she meant and can see it effective in my own life. I had a brain fart!

You see, when we're in these situations of debt, it's a vicious circle:

Now I am no debt expert or financial guru, but I have learnt one or two things along this road we call "where the fuck has the money gone." Firstly, don't hide. We're not bears. We must not hide in caves. It's time to confront our money issues, phone the people we owe money to, pay something and always, always communicate. Secondly, when we confront this we lose the fear aspect. Fear has control over us like a mother to a 13 year old child. Once we lose the fear, we lose the control aspect. We no longer feel that debt is controlling us. WE CONTROL THE DEBT! And this is the biggest break through.

I got myself into debt not through ignorant excessive spending, but just by trying to live. I then went self employed and the debt mountain just kept getting bigger and bigger, closer and closer - like a giant pimple on your face that you just cannot ignore. I then went back full time - it was time to take control. You can't get out of debt if you're not getting enough money in. Through self employment I did not have enough money to pay my bills. This lead to one or two account add ups and for example, I owed Woolworths 2x monthly instalments. Thus, I could not spend on the account. This in retrospect was a brilliant universal move.

You see I tried to erase my debt but when an account was paid off, I'd just spend on it again to buy the necessities. So the amount was never going down. Now that some of my accounts are overdue by two months I cannot spend on them. It's the universe's way of saying "Stacey if you can't control your debt, we will!" Having thought about this over a smoke I actually came to see the positive side of this. No longer did I feel negative about this, what a break through! It's a blessing because if I can't spend on them, but I pay where I can, that means that debt and each account does go down - eventually.

Then when thinking of a bad ITC record or black listing (which I am far from) I no longer fear this big black dragon. Not that I choose to, but if it so happens that I do get a bad ITC record or black listed then great. I don't want anymore fuckén debt. I don't want to get more loans under my name because once my debt is clear then I won't need loans. And yes, you're probably thinking.. what about housing and cars... well, that's what husbands are for and I could always get these assets under his name. But we're jumping the gun and because of the mental state I am in now, it won't get that far. I'm just trying to see the positives in my debt, I'm trying to love it. I am trying to learn to love money.

As petrol hikes, e-tolls and food prices soar, with salaries staying the same if not lowering, it is hard to manage your debt or even to survive. But come hell or high water... you survive. Somehow you make a plan. I was even discussing with my husband last night on how we can solve each others debts/bills. Working together as a team...viewing each other's money as united. Another brain fart! The trick is to get one debt PAID OFF COMPLETELY, then the rest will roll.

So all in all, most people currently are struggling to make ends meet, to put water and crusts of bread on the table. So it's time to get money smart, get those budget spread sheets working and start taking control of the situation. Change your perception of money and learn to love the green paper. I am 27, in financial crap, but hey.. when I get out of this hell hole, I'll have learnt a whack load of lessons and will never, ever, get back into debt. Money I LOVE YOU!

I hate bush just as much as men do

I hate bush.

No, not President Bush
nor the bush found in the pubic area (I'm sure you were thinking that!)...
I hate rose bushes.

Just as a female's bush will be the suffocation of men, so will the rose bushes be the death of me.

I hate bush just as much as men do!

I live on a property where the landlords are rose-mad and God forbid if the line of white rose bushes in the front of my garden (which irritatingly block my beautiful view of the dam) die, or look odd.

They're looking odd. They're looking like someone's hair just after being electrocuted by a plug - the stalks (or properly named canes as I have learnt) are fuckén everywhere.

I have pruned (or in my mind cut with no logical direction) and hacked at these stupid plants and they're just becoming oddly shaped, crooked and bent. And no one likes anything crooked.

Now the landlords and property agent are bitching about the roses and the garden. Do I look like a 90 year old who is retired and spends her days fixing the garden and getting all wrinkled up in the sun? No. I have a life. I don't have time to be making sure that there are no leaves on the stoop, that this dead leaf is off this dying plant and that this plant is cut properly.

Do I look like fuck'en Edward Scissorhand!

Rose bushes are like high maintenance girlfriends... exhausting.

So I'll have to let the rose bushes do their own thing, let them grow and bloom and be unkempt. That's what people suggest. Sometimes its okay for things to be unkempt... well that's debatable!

If not, I'll put long blades on my hands and I'll try be Edward.. or I'll just have to get in a gardener (anyone know a gardener by the name of Edward?)

Balance

I have so much work to do... but got distracted by another blog... and decided to blog. That's what happens when you dabble in a bit of wine with the view of yachts and blogging. Damn you blogs and your stupid addiction!

In a nutshell, went to the doctor, was told I have tongue Leukoplakia (pre-cancerous cells) and have been riddled with anxiety and depression. Went to a PROPER dentist today (who didn't point a Jesus on a cross at me for being an ex-smoker) and he said I had neither. My tongue was fine, no cancer to report. Jumping around the dentist's room you would be sure that I have firecrackers up my butt. Hallelujah (As Mr Bean would sing it!).

The thing is, when someone tells you that you have a fatal disease or something that will kill you, it's like someone slapping their willy against your forehead without warning.. you become in total shock. Everything stands still and you become covered in a cloud of OH MY FUCK! It's this OH MY FUCK that turns your life around. Makes you stop doing certain things and doing others, or doing less of things and more of others. But when you're an ex-smoker, all you can think about is smoking. It's a habit and a delicious one at that. So if you don't smoke, your body is healthy but you brain is not. Who says being miserable can't affect your body? The body speaks the mind after all. So this got me thinking about balance. Balance in life is key. Too much of non-balance and you may as well fall off the cliff or the edge of the building you've been standing on for a while.

It's like too many strawberries and too little cream. It doesn't work. Too much sex will leave your vagina raw, too much drinking and you'll become the locally well-known leg spreader or drunken goose. Too much smoking and you'll get lung cancer. Too much over eating and you'll be able to hide things under your fat rolls. But people need to let go, have fun, have a juicy pastry now and then and a party here and there. We can't all live in a hole like those online gaming geeks now can we? No. That's not life and that's sure as fuck not living. Even Jesus drank wine and ate bread. And if he can do it, then so will I. But I will do it "within moderation". It's all about moderation in life, the key to life is balance.

With a scare, and a shock, I take what the Universe, or Jesus, showed me and will apply it to my life. May all of you have balance in your life. Have your custard Danish, but then have sex afterwards to burn off the calories. Have a drink now and again, but lace it with water. Mediate. Play. Work. Fuck around. But find balance in all that we do, think and say.

Here's to being the elephant that can balance on a small ball.

Driving in cars...

Lets apply the famous saying, "If a picture could paint a thousand words..." to your car.

Oh the devil beware.

My car has been around the block. She's nine years old, but has the grace and dignity of an 80 year covered in horse shit. I can not, in any means, try and excuse her outer and inner appearance on age alone. I am at fault.

Pulling out the magnifying glass...

Clue 1: It is clear by the cigarette burns on the seats of my car that she serves many a purpose. Not only as a form of transport, but also as an ash tray. The funny thing is, I am the driver of the car and there's cigarette burns on the back seat. So to those who smoke at the back of the vehicle, may I please so kindly sit in the back of your car and so carefully burn the seats WITH A BRANDING IRON!

Clue 2: Yes my car is dirty, mainly because of the dust (and because of the empty coffee cups that line the floor). But hey, I'd rather drive around in a dustbin then throw it out the car. You see... a dirty car means you are environmentally friendly. It is evident that with the tables and chairs in the back seat (even though it's a small car and it's like squeezing cheese through a keyhole) along with the laptops, books, face painting equipment and other items of different sizes that Stacey is a busy person, and one that partakes in many a things. She's also a good packer of things and could properly fit an obese person into XS spanks.

Clue 3: My car, my dear old second bedroom, has enjoyed many nights back in the day, with me passed out in it. I kept her company and she gave me a place to rest my drunken ass. Luckily there are no slobber patches or duvet covers, but the pictures of me in this comfy position will tell the tale.

Clue 4: Before I get into this clue, let me first tell you that A. I would never wear those shoes... we're not in the 1940's. 2. The chick wearing THOSE shoes would never be with a man in THOSE shoes. So, in this case... a picture tells a million lies. But back to the clue. Finger marks on the windows and a witness or two (mainly a car park guard) may tell of a few sexual actions being performed in this car, but lips are sealed. Shame, my car has played third wheel in these instances a few times. Shame, her poor eyes (or should I say head lights!)

Clue 5: Scratches against the side of the car and broken back light. This clue would naturally make one think that Stacey is a bad driver. Beep. W.r.o.n.g. This would mean that other people are bad drivers, either banging into my car and driving off, or that it was the STUPID POLES FAULT. But hey, a car always looks a bit better with a little bit of dents - it makes for uniqueness I think.

Clue 6: Broken/scratchy speakers. This would depict loud music playing, broken ear drums or heightened emotions. Yes, Stacey has partied hard in this car, listened to hard metal and hit the steering wheel when raged or deeply vexed and has sung loudly to depressing music when heart broken. My car and her once-working-properly speakers have in a sense been my therapist. Through the hard times, the good times and the fuck-off-and-die time, she's been there for me. And gratitude must also be paid to the steering wheel. I am sorry I have laid hands and fist on your, but you're resilient and can take it.

Clue 7: No treads on tyres and high km number. My car and I have travelled many a places, been through a lot, and even though you'd expect a car of her age and make - the wing wongs are known to make shit plastic cars - we're still going. Bumps and all, we're still driving on our paths creating memories.

So whilst you all are buying your zooped up new cars that are prestine inside and out, my Kia Picanto and I may not be driving in style, but we're driving with memories. And you can't put a price on that. Literally and metaphorically, she's priceless. And I love her.
So happy driving until next time, and don't forget to make memories in your car!

The pig

Sometimes in life you come across 'The Pig'.

The egotistical arsehole that gets a kick out of 'being the man', treating people like shit and trying to portray the 'awesome' person he/she apparently once 'was'.

The pigs habits:

1. Having sudden outbursts of childishness in the form of playing stupid pranks on others
2. Flirting with other 'pretty people' who are in a position where they have to positively respond
3. Professing stories of it's many, many (MANY) accomplishments, rewards, people (or other pigs) it knows
4. Ignores 'normal' pigs

The pigs likes:

1. Getting its ego rubbed (24 hours a day/7 days a week/365 days a year)
2. Pretty pigs
3. Being superior
4. Belittling others indirectly (but knowing full well it is doing it)

The pig dislikes:

1. People who have a mind and a voice
2. Being told off, or being confronted
3. People who show independence, dominance, intelligence

How to handle the pig (before giving the pig a lecture):

1. Grab a baseball bat
2. Swing hard and far
3. Aim for the face
4. Point and laugh

How to lecture the pig (when down on the floor in pain):

1. No you are not toned and have muscles... they have turned to fat... clearly
2. You're not clever... you are down right fuck'en stupid
3. You have friends that are younger than you... to make you feel better in yourself
4. Nobody actually likes you... behind your back... EVERYONE HATES YOU!

And no I won't stand for it... I won't stay in your pig sty.

If it were to me, you'd become pork.

This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef and this little piggy had none. YOU'RE KNOWN OF THESE PIGS... you're the bacon rashes on my plate.

The art of baby making

Right... so after numerous attempts to try and place images on this blog, it has failed. Just as I have not mastered the art of posting images on this blog (it used to work!)... so have I not been able to master the art of baby making.

Seems as if one needs to go to 'baby-making' school (but hey, maybe the school is like Hogwarts!)

The universe is one funny thing. Growing up I have always been the paranoid type. Give me a worry and I'll be sure to worry about it. Give me a thought and I think it right through. Give me a minor problem and I'll be sure as fuck to make it into a mountain. I have always stressed about falling pregnant since being with Mr Woensdregt... always used double, even triple, precaution and worrying myself sick before my red friend was supposed to arrive. Google, Google, Google, stress, stress, stress, smoke, smoke, smoke. It WAS a worry in my life... I didn't want to fall pregnant at that time and did everything in my power to stop it from happening.

8 years later.... What the hell was I worrying about?

I have been off the pill for two years... (no condom, no precautions) ... two frigg'in years and still no baby. Still no minature Woensdregt running around with tiolet paper hanging out its little bum. Still no pregnant belly. Still nothing.
I shit you not, if I had known then what I had known now, I would have never wasted my money on the contraceptive pill, or destroyed any type of sensation from using condoms. My pocket and sex episodes would have been a lot better! The universe would have played a cruel, sick-ass joke on me... Here Stacey... worry yourself sick about something that might never happen.

Now I am not saying I can't fall pregnant. I have not been tested yet, neither has the Mr jerked off in a cup (lucky cup!) So faith and hope is still there. All in good time my son, all in good time.

It's just funny. Growing up into puberty all girls want is their red friend. Since being introduced, and from the time a female becomes sexually active, all she hopes for is that is comes for its monthly visit. It just has to come. As a young adult trying to fall pregnant, all a lady wants for it is to go away, to be welcome a baby. Then we grow old and frail and wish we'd have our red friend around instead of the dreaded menopause. Our red friend is both our friend and enemy. Shame, poor red friend. You only want it around when it suits you. Selfish bitches!

Now all I want for my red friend is to go away. But like clockwise, there she is, showing her ugly face at the beginning of every month. I feel like Charlie (in the Chocolate factory)... buy a pregnancy test and hope, and pray, that it turns out positive. Just as Charlie searched all the chocolate bars to find his golden ticket... so will I search all the pregnancy tests for a positive result. I buy them so much now it's like buying milk. "Hi yes, I'd like to 2 litres of milk and a pregnancy test." I am making my local stores bloody rich!

I used to clock watch, time my ovulation, have scheduled sex and really make an effort to fall pregnant. Men... if you want a great sex life hook up with some one, or marry someone, who wants a child. You'll never ever have blue balls, but your penis must be worse for wear. Now a days, and for the past few months, I haven't tried to fall pregnant. I've just kind of forgotten about it. It'll happen when it's right I guess.

So to all the ladies out there who are trying to fall pregnant.... I hear ja. I hear ja loud and clear. It's frustrating. But hey... at least we get to try all the different sex positions that could 'improve chances of falling pregnant." I am not complaining (neither is Chris.) So I'll keep watching TV with my legs up (ladies... you know what I mean), keep hoping that my period won't arrive and that one day I'll get my 'golden ticket'.

It's just so wierd... we spend our lives worrying about things that may never happen. Clearly. So stop the worrying, hump like rabbits and we'll all be as lucky as Charlie.

The low down....

Thanks to Themikeappel... a blog I frequently read that sports the same love for Tequila (THE GOLD STUFF) that I have... I have decided I need to blog again.

Fuck it's been too long. And thinking of writing a million and one blogs about each thing I have gone through since July (Holy shit... I haven't blogged since then - smack ruler on hand*) I thought I'd compress it into one blog... like trying to stuff cheese through a key hole. (It just might work!)

Finger fun (I can see you sexually minded people giggling to yourself)
I have become a girl.. or should I rather say become feminine. My sister-in-law has taught me the art of being girly. Yes, Stacey Woensdregt, now paints her finger nails. No they don't have sparkles or fancy designs... they are more on the lines of plain black and not painted as well as the professionals do it.. but hey, they still look good when I flick you the finger behind your back! It's nice being a girly girl... make up on, nails done, hair done.... yes, 2 minutes extra to look that much better is worth it!

OCD
My sister-in-law, bless her cotton socks, is OCD. Now I am not.. actually far from it. I don't live like a hauder, nor do I eat out of trash can, but I'm not the neatest person in the world. However, living with an OCD person tests your patience. It teaches you something. I have learnt from her and have adapted her OCD to conform to my life.. and hey... cleanliness doesn't hurt anyone. But for those really manic OCD people... there's more to life to worry about, more in life to do than worry about this cleaning or that cleaning. And (no offence)... if you are that OCD... you have too much time on your hands. Go find a job!

The young can teach
Living with some one or being around some one who is younger than you makes you realise how much older you are, how you have grown as a person and how you will never be that care-free drunk young'en passed out in the club tiolet again. (Oh those were the days!) It's nice... nice to know that you are moving up, growing as an individual and have surpassed so much.

Self worth & fuck you
Over the past few weeks I have gone through life changing experiences. These experiences have taught me the value of myself, that I won't stand for shit, that I can tell you to go screw yourself and it's fine, that I won't settle for poor standards and I am me, and I am great! No need to tell you the finer details, all you need to know is that I finally have self worth and I love it. What a blessing it is to know your own worth. I advice everyone out there to go and find themselves, love themselves.

Go with the flow
Wow, life is incredible when you let go of the reins and go with the flow. From a person who stressed her nuts out about being fired to having no cash (this was a few years ago), to being self employed and with nothing to spare, it's nice to know that now that I have gone full time again that I never have the fear of being fired. What a liberation I tell 'ja. When you reach rock bottom, it's no longer the boogie man taunting you at night. You've been there, realised rock bottom's name is Bob and you have become friends with him. When you have 'jumped off the cliff' and taken a risk in your life, everything flows. Spiritual as it may sound, it does. And over the past few weeks and months, I have seen how the universe works, how the flow of life commences and how, if you let it, life guides you anyway. Wow... what a realisation. (Cheers to Racoon for helping me realise this!)

A new love
After being bitched at by my landlords for my garden being to dry (Come on now... it's winter for fuck sakes) I have started watering my garden. Wow... it's my new hobby. Nothing beats watching the sun set as you hear the sprinkler on the plants or watch the water loosely drip off the petals (sounds like a porno). Can't wait to get home and see the 'hosepipe.'
So life is ticking on, just as it should. Learn a lesson here, grow a little there.

Life is a rollercoaster, ride it!

Something off the bucket list

Ok, so I've done another thing on the 'bucket list' - I have been on TV.

A talk show about panic attacks, I was the person who announced to the world that I have panic attacks and suffer from anxiety and stress.

Ironically, I almost had one before I went on the show. Bright lights and LIVE television (aired on 2 July 2013) is enough to make anyone shit their pants. With tears in my eyes and a dry mouth, I had bravely went where I had never been before.

But wow, what an experience.
I love TV with all its 'glamour'. Being in a studio with it's stage set up, lights and camera's is something that I have always wanted to do.

I also got to meet Noeleen, a local TV talk show celebrity. She's no Oprah Winfrey but hey, it's one of my little claims to fame. It's always exciting to meet a celeb, regardless how famous or not they are.

So the show was recorded, however... there's no way I want to watch it. Although curiosity will kill the cat, I'll watch it by myself in a dark cave and cringe the entire time. Hearing your own voice is an awful experience to endure.

But hey.. I've been on TV and here's for another tick off the bucket list. TICK.

Luck be a lady...

What is a lady?

Is she a prim and proper woman who is never seen without a hair out of place, her make up on, looking tidy and well dressed? Does she ever speak out of turn, or swear or resemble any behavioural mannerisms of a man? No... Miss Lady never passes gas, never acts like a man, gets involved in fights, acts independent or is seen sneaking into the men's bathroom to take a quick pee.

Therefore I am not a lady.

However, I'm not the 'Trunchbull' (from the Movie Matilda)... she (or should I say he-she) is a man with a vagina. I am sure her breast bumps in her top are actually from heaps of chest hair - a woman with too much testosterone.

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This is a 'woman' gone horrible wrong.

But just because I am not exactly a 'lady' does this make me a man?

I hardly ever wear make up during the day and prefer wearing my Husband's fleece jersey than a smart jacket. Sometimes I forget to pluck my eyebrows and have made a few trips to the men's bathroom when the ladies' line was too long. I do get involved in fights - well when close men in my life are about to get involved. I'm not afraid of a man's punch, nor afraid to spit in a guy's face.

Or does this make me empowered? Fearless and ballsy?
Maybe to the 'old' patriarchal man, all woman should be submissive. Fuck that. I spit on your face 'eh.

I think there's a definate line between being a lady and being the Trunchbull. I'm smack in the middle. And hey... I don't think most men actually like a lady. They like their woman with junk in the trunk, bed hair and a voice (to tell them when they are being an arse and to just shut the hell up.) They want to know that their woman will stand up for them and be able to get a smack in the face in the name of love.

My husband says, "I'd rather you take care of me, then you take care of you." (awww, us woman like to care of our men.) He then adds, which is a great point I might add, "If you spent 3 hours a day getting ready, it would drive me mad!" You see.... I'd rather spend those 3 hours rather doing something naughty with him. Men... you choose... waiting for your wifey to get ready... or spend that time canoodling?

At the end of the day, I know when to be a lady and I know when to be the Trunchbull. There's a time and place for both types of a lady. But hey, when called for it... I'll tell you to go jerk off even when I'm in my high heels and sporting red lipstick.

It's snot cold...

Traffic is a bitch. It is what it is. So it's either... get up at sparrows fart, leave late and sit in hours of traffic picking your nose or banging the steering wheel from frustration, or get a bike (or scooter.)

As my friend 'Lady Pants' sent me...


So getting a bike, or scooter, sounds like a good idea. BUT... it's winter and it's cold out, very cold. So although I would get a kick ass, glitterfied scooter like this (scoot'in in style):

...after an hours drive in the freezing cold darkness of the morning, I'd rock up at work looking like this:


So yes, although my snot would be iced to my face (looking very attractive and all)... I'd be early.
And with the many hills and high inclines along my journey to work, the scooter's speed would be reduced to this (who said driving like a granny isn't cool):


So yes, a scooter or bike is on the list of possible things to get. And hey, it'll save me on petrol AND better yet... a moustache wax, as nothing pulls out lip hair better than iced snot.

Traffic jammin'

Having started working in the city, a 50 minute drive from the quiet farm life where I live, I now wake up every morning at 4.30 to leave by 5am, to get to work at 6am.
God forbid I leave 15 minutes later, or even 5 minutes later. That's the thing about traffic in Johannesburg - the city of smog, impatient drivers and ugly scenery - it depends on time. Being 10 minutes late will set you back about an hour. Being 5 minutes early will bring you forward 30 minutes. Just those few little seconds, those few itty bitty minutes will dictate how you're going to spend your morning - whether breezing through the roads, or stuck in traffic.
On the odd occasions when I tell my alarm clark to fuck off and sleep in for those extra little 5 minutes (even 5min does a world of good!) I wind up cemented in bumper to bumper traffic, burning the clutch of my car and having my morning dose of getting high on petrol fumes (no wonder I'm such a happy morning person.)

Now when in this situation, what does one do to entertain oneself? Yes, having a CD player helps, or a radio, as you can sing to your heart's desire whilst the person in the front car is laughing his head off at you whilst peering through his review mirror. But sadly my radio is not working (a fuse blew) so there'll be no singing loudly, nor anymore laughing at me. I have suffered the no-radio-problem for months now so I'm using this blog as a brainstorm for ways to keep entertained whilst stuck in traffic.

One could smoke. It's amazing how many smokes you can cram into an hours driving session. Let's play the game of "HOT BOX THE CAR!" Two, get acquainted with the GPS. I'm sure everyone loves the sexy accent of the female who talks on the device and who can't say the street names properly. No wait, actually let's laugh at the GPS. The third way to keep amused is to try new routes to work and get lost in the many dead ends you encounter. Although you wasting time, and petrol, at least you'll be using the time in a busy manner in stead of sitting for the same time on the same route. Four, the sms marathon where we catch up on sms's, phone calls and communication. I know it's illegal to use your phone when driving - but squeezed between two trucks going no where can't be considered driving.

I've got to get used to this traffic, and these fucken early mornings. Hopefully it doesn't kill me. But if I leave early enough and beat it, then I can watch the sun rise and there's no need for entertainment.

New, new, new!

So not only am I moving house at the end of the month, but I am also starting a new job on Wednesday! So looking forward to hours of traffic to and from the office, very early mornings struggling to get out bed (esp with it almost being Winter), clogging my face with make up every morning and having no freedom. Nah.... I won't be sitting in traffic as I negiotiated the times with my future boss; I will be able to get out of bed as I'll have a purpose in life; every day I will feel pride in myself that I look nice for once instead of being in no-one-should-see-me-clothes everyday and instead of freedom I'll have security and stability (and who actually says that self employment is freedom... it's more like being chained with stress and worry.) Yes, I have made the right decision. I can't wait until the end of the month when I can rest assured that money is coming in. Self employment is not for the weak - it's damn fucking hard. I don't regret these last few months of trying to make it work as I was tested and learnt a great deal, nor am I giving up on myself - I am just starting on a new venture. Being self employed, I would look for ANY type of avenue that would create business and money and I would discount my services so that at least ANY type of money would come in. Now I can solely be focused on my full time job (which by the way is at the TOP of the list when it comes to media companies) and my events business. This brings with it focus and clarity. I will also no longer suffer from social isolation as self employment is a lonely place. I can chirp and chirp to my heart's content at the office, meet new people and use up my 5000 words for the day. Eventually I'll go back to self-employment and do it again. But for now, I'm moving into a beautiful home and I need a stable job to pay for it. Let the new chapter of my life begin! Amen.

Read the signs

Yes I know the picture is rotated... it's actually quite perfect as that's how I see my life at the moment. Distorted, but you can still what's going on.

So here I am sitting at the mechanics on a miserable blue Monday. I was on my way to a face painting job (which I will now have to refund the client 600 bucks for as I won't be able to make it) and my car was making this horrible noise. So there's positive Stacey thinking that it's just rocks stuck in the brakes caused from driving on a farm... but wait, she's just about to be hit across the head with a R1500.00 bill, or should I say bat. Yes, my brakes and discs need to be changed and the mechanic says it's not safe to drive all the way to JHB. So with no money in my bank I tell the dude to change it and I'll make a plan.

So here I am wollowing in my own sorrow, my own depression, watching the cars come to fill up and get high on their fumes, whilst I start to get piles sitting on this hard floor. It's been a tough couple of months, and now with us moving (that'll have to wait for another blog) I am trying to work as hard as I can to get as much money in. But yes, life always seems to knock us when we down...

But hey, on my 'petrol caused high' I start to think. And wait. And breath. I call this friend who I do work for and ask for my money so I can pay this mechanic. Then shortly after she pays me,she sends me a message asking if I'd want to do sales for her. POSITIVE SIGN NUMBER ONE. If my car wasn't making a noise and I had not of come to the mechanic and needed money, then I wouldn't have phoned or and she wouldn't have offered me the work-from-home-job. Then straight after this petrol attendent passes by with a name tag 'lucky'. POSITIVE SIGN NUMBER TWO.

In our states of misery, when we're at our lowest, there are always signs from the Universe that things are working out as they should. All in their own parts, all working together discretely but obvious if you look properly. It's in our lowest that we really look at life through spiritual eyes and look for the signs from God saying "I'm still here."

So from a 'blue' monday, it goes into a 'true' Monday - I see life in it's truest form. From sadness to hope. From depression to faith. From emotional to calm.

Speak up

It's hard when you have problems. It's even harder when you keep them to yourself. Like a disease, they eat away at your soul, killing you slowly day by day.

I eventually opened up to someone. Maybe it was fear of judgement that held me back for so long, maybe it was my own brain making a mountain over a mole hill or my own emotions of guilt and sorrow. I finally opened up after my emotions were knocking at the door and could no longer be contained. With tears in my eyes I bared my soul. I released it. Now I am VERY vocal person so one could only imagine how much pain I was going through trying to conceal it. It was sheer torture.

We always expect the worst outcome or the worst reaction. We always feel that once told, we'd be scorned or burnt alive with sticks. But most of the time we're just over-reacting in our heads and the reactions we actually do recieve are nothing that we anticipated. I was comforted to find that the reaction I recieved was one of trust, comfort, positivity and love. I thank that person for truly understanding and for loving me so much that no judgement would ever be placed upon me.

Since communicating and finally letting it out, I feel burden free; my soul can finally breath. As my 'listening ear' said to me - A PROBLEM SHARED IS A PROBLEM HALVED. And this is truly the case. I can breath a sigh of relief. Since sharing, I no longer am drowned by the thought of my problem - it's more like a forgotten past. A distant memory.

If I can pass on just one thing to who ever is reading this, it'll be to speak up. Share your problem, communicate. There's nothing worse then having a problem and feeling like you can't tell anyone; feeling alone. Find that someone who you truly love and trust and share with them. We are all human, we all have dark secrets, problems and issues. And who knows, that person may be able to share some light on your problem and make you see it in another perspective, or better yet, help you heal.

I did it. I was scared shitless. But I did it. And now I can heal.

To that special person - thank you. I love you.

Business inspiration & the new South Africa

So besides the bartendering, I decided to get some business books from the library and attend the My Business Expo to get inspired for my business. You see, when in a dump or a black hole of morbidity - do something about it. Be proactive, get inspired.

This expo surely left me inspired. The seminar included talks about the magic of success, sales and the power of social media. Just listening to these people is bound to put fire crackers up your butt and do something positive. I came home with such a buzz; ideas following through my head as fast as you can blink.

Listening to how these top entrepreneurs failed and then succeeded, how they persevered and kept a determined mind frame is nothing but wow. It made me realise that I can do this. I came home with notes, a new business perspective and things to do. This is going to keep me busy for a while!

Wow was truly jaw-dropping was the talk on business and social media. I was literally sitting there gasping at how social media has taken over; how creativity and social media can transform even the smallest business and how social media has progressed to such an extent that it seems almost unthinkable. The statistics are awe-inspiring. It's time for me to make my business online, and properly this time - the digital expert way.
It was also inspiring to see the many people that were there; the hopeful entrepreneurs who were starting, or wanting to start, their own business. The audience was predominantly black people and that was great to see. It's a new South Africa and I am so glad to see black people becoming the new business owners, the new inspirers of the next generation. Colour or no colour, we were the hopefuls. The dreamers. The people who wanted to be inspired. Too learn. To go home and transform our lives. And what made me feel even better is that I have a business, I have already gone through the process, gained the clients and groveled... I just had to make it work WELL now. It was the validation that I needed.

True to form, the universe and God were working their magic as they always do. I met this guy and we got to chatting. To make a quick business point, we discussed creating an inspiring event where we'd speak to the less fortunate and inspire the communities. He asked me if I'd like to be a motivator (something I'd always thought about doing) and there was the universal sign. I came to the expo, got inspired and met a possible business partner. I've always wanted to help the less fortunate and this could be the way. So let's keep fingers crossed and soon you might be listening to me trying to inspire you.
Yes, I am definately on the right track mentally and business wise too.

Bitchin' Bikers!

Don't know who this dude is in the picture, but what a great pic it is!

I finally got of my hell hole and picked myself up (thank you to that special person for helping me). Off to the bar I went. Not for copious amounts to drink, like those sad sad people at the bar drinking themselves into a flat coma, trying to rid themselves of the drama that pervails their life. No, I was going to work.

Wow, it's been almost 9 years since I worked at a bar. Since my feet ached so much that they wanted to fall off. Since my short term memory worked - trying to remember many a long list of food and drink orders simultaneously.

Working for yourself is lonely at times and the social isolation is a killer. What better remedy than to work at a bar! I was at a bar one night and offered my services to the bar owner - thinking that nothing would really come of it. But low and behold it did. So there was Stacey busting tables, running around like a blue arse fly and truly LOVING it! There's something about running around, chatting to people and being so busy you don't know your head from your arse. And I loved it. I loved it so much, I'm bartendering on a more frequent basis. It keeps me busy, keeps my busy brain distracted, allows me to have my 1000 words for the day (even more!) and there's something about that waiting to get tips and wondering how much you going to make. And for those who don't tip me, I'll just spit in your food. (Joking)

The other night I was bartendering and there was a large group of bikers there. I've come to realise that there is something about bikers. No, not the ones who ride those sissy bikes. I'm talking about the big men, with heavy biker 'armour' and layers of tattoo's driving Harleys. Observing from the bar, these men look hard, but upon talking to some of them, they all have a story. They all have been through shit, surpassed it and have had so many experiences, it's fascinating. And what's even more fascinating is that although they have an exterior of an angry bull, they're more like fuzzy bears inside - they are kind of sweet. There's this loyalty within the bikers group that you don't see anymore these days. We could all learn a bit from these men instead of hooting at them when they try and pass you on the road. They're proud of something, loyal to something and garsh'darnet they just know how to have fun. Fun being the double Captain Morgan and coke that they ordered a million times over. That or brandy and coke. I was truly gobsmacked at how much they can consume without falling over in an drunk stooper.

Personally I think bikers are bitchin'. I have this knew found respect for this group of people. I even asked my husband if we should maybe join a bikers gang. My mom was not impressed at that thought. But nevertheless, if I can't join 'em I'll just party with 'em.

The honest truth

I decided that before this pain in my heart became too over whelming or the tears burst out of my eyes, I'd write. I'm not writing for anyone, I'm doing this for me. But maybe through my sadness, some one else going through a hard time will feel that they are not alone. Normally I wouldn't share my life to everyone, nor make it known that I am in a place that isn't good, but maybe - just maybe - through revealing my inner soul I'd unwrap all the denial and bullshit that layers my body and my mind. Maybe I'd then see my truth and really start to heal it.

The honest truth, Stacey is not doing well. It's raining outside... it fits my mood. For the past few days I've been walking around my house feeling like a hermit, suffering from 'cabin fever', feeling that the only sort of purpose I have right now is to wash the dishes or make dinner. The only achievement I had for today is that I did one unimportant house hold chore. I used to be busy, I used to be successful. Having quit my job (although the miserable company failed anyway and I am still waiting for my salary from six months ago - thus I didn't really have a choice) I have been self employed since September. Or is that just a 'disguise' or mental optimism that I am trying to bullshit my brain to believe. In fact, I was self employed in the beginning (when jobs were coming in) and now I am just unemployed. Let's just call a spade a spade. Business is quite in the months of Dec, Jan and Feb and jobs are coming in as slow as when you have a bladder infection and drops of piss slowly release. Now I'm waiting. I check my emails everyday, and try do what I can - but I have lost hope and have reduced myself to napping during the day (well, the last 2 days). The thing is, I tried. I think I am the most ambitious, hard working person I know and since I resigned I have tried everything. I have made new partnerships, joined into new opportunities and yet still find myself workless and struggling. I have always wanted to be an entrepreneur and the universe finally gave it to me. But it's for the strong and right now I am as weak as anything... The tears have started... It's lonely and it's testing. With my bank balance as dry as the desert, I have no option but to go full time again. And yes, I have been applying. Applying like mad... but yet find myself waiting... waiting... waiting. I have no regrets, at least I tried. At least I took the challenging road, when everyone else follows like ants. But being a follower brings in stability and that's what I am seeking the most.

Not only do I seek stability, but I seek passion. I keep asking myself "what do you want to do with your life?", "what makes you happy?", "what brings you fulfillment and purpose?" I don't know. And it literally kills me. (... more tears) I have been going through this healing journey, trying to figure out my truth, trying to resolve hidden issues and trying to recitfy the wrong. But trying to heal is hard. Trying to find a mental silence is hard. I have tried my best to go on and conquer this journey. My house is covered in affirmations, which I subconsciously say but honestly don't feel or believe. I have gone for walks through the farm trying to find some answers. I have googled, and googled. I have tried different meditation. Yet I am still in this place of darkness. So, Stacey is not right in the mental area of her life.

So apart from being broke and mentally unhealed, my body is also going through illness. In short - and I don't want to go into entail - the gynecologist said that I have abnormal cells in my cervix and although it seems to be okay, I'll need to go in for regular check ups. A shock to my system, I tried to heal my brain and think positive, but last night was a reminder that it affects me. I feel tainted, I'm scared of dying and will never feel the same again.

I am just in a very bad place at the moment. I think I've hit my lowest of the low and instead of bullshitting myself again by saying "there's only up from here", I am going allow myself to enjoy a hot bath, a mental soak and good long cry.

Adverts: Real and Literal

When did television adverts become so literal?

I came across this Cornetto advert advertising their new ice-cream - black and white - on tv one night. And as always, true to South African form, it was laced with literal content. A black female and a white male enjoying the ice cream together. I applaud Cornetto for embracing the new South African era and that different races can share love and romance, but I don't see why adverts should be so literal. I mean, it's an ice cream for goodness sake - why does it have to relay 'hidden meanings'or be 'indirectly' hard hitting. I don't need to hear about races or be reminded of past time racism from an ice cream advert thanks. Although it showcases the 2 'colours' together in unity, it simultaneously shows them separated and isolated. Or is this just over analysing?

If we take any product or advert and apply this same type of literal showcasing then when advertising car insurance, a gruesome video needs to be displayed on the advert showcasing blood splattered, bodies on the road and a car that is now squashed to the size of a ruler. Or take drugs for example, let's see someone injected heroine into their bruised infected arm. Or better yet, when it comes to fast food adverts let's see the real reason why the food tastes so good (Macdonald's processed chicken we see on Youtube.)

Or maybe this would actually be a good thing? Maybe adverts need to be more literal? Or maybe we should leave the real and literal aspects to documentarys and other tv programmes? I frankly don't feel like hard hitting adverts when it's actually 8 o clock and I'm lying on the couch trying to forget about the world.

Case in point, I don't like the advert. Why do you HAVE to show a black female and a white male just because the ice cream is called black and white? Is the creative team behind this advert running out of creative thinking? And when it comes to ice cream, let's just focus on the taste and characteristics of the ice cream.

Read the label

Eating food found in shops now adays is like sticking a gun in your mouth... they both kill you. Now I'm not talking about ice cream, greasy pies that have been sitting in the store oven for days and ready-made meals... I am talking about the most simplest of food groups and food items on the shelves like Oros, jam, cheese, tomato sauce. We think they are healthy but here's a wake up call.. they are NOT.

Rewind and in a nut shell... went on holiday, felt like shit, felt unhealthy and decided to go on a detox/eating plan. No, not a new years resolution (as I started on 27 Dec 2012) but an intentional decision to get my body right (not necessarily to lose weight, however if I do I'm not complaining), but to feel healthy.

For 3-4 days I cut out dairy, carbs and sugar. I almost died. Literally I felt like death on sticks. I vomited, had a runny tummy and slept for an entire day. I also cut out flavorants and preservatives. Did you know that mostly EVERYTHING in a shop has preservatives or flavourants. You may as well not even walk into your local food shop and just eat soil in your backyard. Everything is full of S.H.I.T. Everything. If you want a shock in your life, go grocery shopping and take the time to read the labels. Now I am not talking about the protein and carb content, etc etc, I am talking about the additional ingredients like CITRIC ACID and all the other unhealthy stuff they put into the food. Every ingredient being a 'bullet' into your mouth. It's actually disgusting. Now adays I always check the labels. YOU SHOULD TOO!

The detox being so drastic I decided I could not survive like this - having no energy and continual cravings (salivating at the look of sugary things) is not good. So I decided to adapt the eating plan and bring in substitutes.

Xylitol for sugar; rye for wheat and rice milk for dairy (which I LOVE by the way). I have also purchased numerous health products like lentils, colon cleanser fibre, Quinoa (VERY HIGH IN AMINO ACIDS) and other bits and bobs. Off to the health shop and a purchase of a crap load of vitamins included this new type of grocery shopping. Not forgetting my honey-eyed ginger herbal tea.

Yes it's been 13 days and I'm converted! I have adapted and learnt to love the healthy way of eating. Avoid diets, they just making you cranking and hungry. This new way of healthy substitutes, vitamins and detox is the way to go. I am an addict for the good food, the real good food :)