Thursday, December 30, 2010

Turkey Skin

Introducing turkey skin...

No, I am not referring to the skin on your Christmas turkey (how convenient as we are in the Christmas season and you are all stuffing your faces with it.)

Introducing this turkey skin...



I am sure you have all met this old granny in the movie 'There is something about Mary.' I must say how attractive she is with her saggy tits and wrinkly skin (on her face and neck,... in fact all over!) Yes, I am sure she gets some male pants rising.

This granny should be the poster child for tanning - surely she would be able to entice people to lather themselves with mountains of oil and roast themselves continuously in the sun. (See, as depicted above, she still has the ability to carry this out very well... even in her old age.)

I warn people about her.

One person in particular - my sister.

Leigh: I am going to get my Kim Kardashian tan on
(*PLEASE NOTE that she is Armenian by the way - they are natural olive skinned)

Stacey: Be careful or else you will end up with turkey skin

Leigh: I use loads of SPF 30

Stacey: With the sun, and global warming, that won't make a difference (*I didn't say that to her, but thought it)

Stacey: You look like Winnie Mandela (No racist inclination intended here - just getting the point across that my sister is Caucasian, yet with her tanning, is borderline black)

Leigh: More like Beyonce

Leigh: Well your uncle is Powder

Now, you all know Powder - that white, I mean opaque, man in the movie 'Powder'.

Introducing (below) my uncle, Powder...



I am proud to be related to this man (note the sarcasm that he is my uncle)

Yes, I would admit that my skin is so white and opaque that it reflects when the sun hits it. I am proud of that.

I don't intentionally tan. EVER. NEVER HAVE. NEVER WILL.

Even in the Summer season as we are in now and the sun is always out, I stay in doors. OK, I'd admit, I lay in the sun for 5 minutes today (trying to get some sort of colour on my legs) - but as the sun touched my white-ass skin, it bounced back. OK, 5 minutes - that's enough for me.

I'd rather look like powder now, so that later when I'm 90 I'll look wrinkle free, like Snow White's sister. Wasn't Snow White the fairest of them all (implying how beautiful she was.)

Yes, Snow White seems like a better option! And in saying that, yes, I'll leave the turkey skin to the actual turkey.

Christmas Dinner on 30 Dec

Yes, I know I am far behind on the Christmas agenda.

(PS: Merry Christmas to you all you blog followers.)

It's the day before New Years and I am celebrating Christmas once again.

Bring on the stuffed turkey (with its 10 000 calories), roast potatoes and veg. (No these are not the left overs from the 25 Dec Christmas) And yes there is a plastic crown to wear on my head and a cracker to crack (I didn't have one of those on Christmas.)

I am excited.

Whose feastin' tonight?

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Tooth Fairy



They say children with a missing tooth look cute.

Try a 24 year old... and your answer is... NO.

This is me today.

My front bottom tooth fell out whilst eating pizza. Oh my Fuck!

Bring on the water works!

But wait, I could use this gap as a cigarette holder, ain't that nifty!

I couldn't actually believe it. Fuck the tooth fairy - I don't want your money and I don't want to give you my tooth.

I raced to the dentist like a snake on steroids. (Don't forget that the water works are flooding during the drive...)

I was lucky enough that the dentist could help me, although was not to comforting. But hey, I lost my broken off piece of tooth somewhere in the dentist chair. Whose the bitch now? A little gift for my appreciation.

I now have a temporary tooth (not correctly sized though) and a mental scar.

You dream about loosing your tooth in your nightmares and not once do you think this will happen. Oh my fuck

I don't want to sport the "beggar/bergie" look thank you very much.

Leigh (my sister)... I have lived out your worst nightmare...

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

No Title



Hello Mizz Blog!

It's been a while - it's seems as though I have lost my inspiration to write (everything is happening but nu'thin significant to write about.) I didn't even know what to write as the title.

I am, ONCE AGAIN, in a weird place. A dark place. A lost place.

(But I guess that's what you get when you are an over-analytical stress-freak like I am)

Yes, I am in a dark place again - maybe borderline depressed. But I think that's how everyone is feeling at this moment.. being year end and all.

We are all tired and all in bad fuck'en need of a holiday.

As year ends comes hurling around the corner, I found myself getting busier and busier. Every weekend is fully booked with jobs, every day at work is hectic and now I have to work at night to keep up with the load.

I think I have come to the realisation that I am a workaholic.

I also have joined the 'gig' economy - where someone has a multitude of jobs. I recently got myself another channel of income, but now I am really overworking the system.

Think. Think. Think.

That's all I seem to do these days.

(Oh and watch old movies, Like Disney Cinderella and The Sound of Music, which remind me of my past and take me back to a place where I was happy.) - Fuck, I sound like a morbid.

I am lost with no direction. It's a battle in my head everyday - should I stay? Should I go solo with my business? What am I doing with my life? Am I on the right career path?

Shit, I wish I had the answers to my so-called life.

Yes - a book that fell into my lap with all the questions and accompanying answers would do me a hell'o'va good!

Life at the dam is nice. The driving is severely getting to me though. I found a tick on my neck today (if that's not a "welcome to Hartees" sign, then I don't know what is)

I think I need to look at the small things and not be overwhelmed by the bigger picture and how much needs to get done before the end of the year.

As someone dear said to me "Things will happen, you don't need to force it."

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The smell of books



I walked into Exclusive Books today.

*Sniff* *Sniff*

Let the aroma fill my nose.

Wow, I love this smell. 'I'm home' in this smell.

The smell of authors and books - for me, the smell of inspiration.

Mix this aroma with the smell of Seattle Coffee next door - and what you get it my picture perfect life. To be a novelist and to have my book in this store.

To have my own book smell.

If they could take this aroma and make it a perfume, wow I'd be the first to buy it.

*Sniff* *Sniff* - ahhhhh....... mmmmmmm.....

Gotta love the smell of books....

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Opportunities



I am changing my energy field.

Being in Hartees, it brings new opportunities - as I always thought it would.
Stagnation be gone!

I am putting my feelers out there. I am putting things out into the universe.

It's almost as if I have a new YEST for life.

I can smell the opportunities there.

No.1

Stace-Face Face Painting is hitting Hartees - and BIG. I am branching out the business.
I have placed two adverts in two publications in Hartees to advertise my business. I have also contacted two party suppliers there and have offered my services to them. In harties it's like taking candy from a baby. There are no party planners in that area.... step in STACE-FACE!

No.2

I have contacted two people to do freelance journalist work, which are both based in that area. (Weird how the universe works hey!)

No.3

Stacey Rowan will now be a horse-poo picker up'per.
I am now going to be with horses. Long story short - a medium told me to be with them. I am a horse whisper. (This probably sounds nuts, but its true. I do have a connection with horses. I still remember Malaga. Oh Malaga. A horse I befriended and a horse I cried over when leaving him) I also want to get back to nature, instead of sitting in front the boring TV set like a vegetable. These muscles need to get a'moving. So I am going to the horse farm on Sunday.

No.4

I am in the process of purchasing a massage table bed. It's time to get back into Reiki and start practicing. I am putting my feelers out there in the spiritual world. And, it's about damn time!

Yup, I am definately hoppin' on the opportunity wagon.

..... FULL speed ahead!

Monday, November 1, 2010

I - heart - Harties



It's official, I hart Harties....

I've moved in.

What a bitch! Wow, I think I have knock knees and broken feet from heavy lifting. I look like a decrepit granny when I walk.

But we in and that's that.

Home Tweet home. I can actually hear the birds tweet and the wind blow. (Unlike the cement jungle of Jozi, which is smothered in a layer of "vroommmmmmm" - the constant noise of cars."

I found my escape. My retreat after a long day of work. It's bliss, put simply.

Who can say that they wake up to the view of Mountains....? Be-a-you-ti-ful.

I can now look forward to walking my dogs, swimming in the clubhouse pool, having romantic walks on the golf course and just enjoying a great lifestyle.

I hart Harties!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Life as I know it...



I'm moving in two days. Oh hairy balls!

I haven't had time to do anything, let alone fart. Seriously.

No, the boxes above are not mine - I haven't even started. Again... oh hairy balls!

I have to start tonight.

Well at least I've done the following:

- Arranged the carpet cleaner to come in..... check
- Arranged the cleaner to come in ......... check
- Got boxes and sticky tape to close them ........ check

Oh dear, this weekend is going to be ab-so-lute madness. Juggle moving with a thousand and one face painting jobs and what you get is a mess. A cock up!

I swear, everything comes at once. At least one of the face painting jobs is for a top club - yup - Noddy badge for me!

I also cut my hair. Gone with his hair!
From half way down my back, it's now above my shoulders and I love it. No more spending hours trying to comb the multitude of knots that infested my 'hair' or birds-nest. Yes, this hair is more fitting for my age. Me likey.

I have also been the proud owner of an eye infection. I rocked up at the eye doctor and said "I have no money, can you please help me" - how's that for cheap? But it's on the mend and I no longer have to walk around with something that resembles pink eye.

Work is hectic. Beyond hectic. Overwhelmed is putting it lightly.

I feel like I am living three separate lives at the moment. Everything is disorganised and up in the air. I think once I move, the seas will calm and everything will be great.

I am looking very forward to moving. A new change, a nice new beginning.

Just hope I can get my head around this whole moving thing ... shit, there's a lot to do. One thing at a time Stacey... one thing at a time.

So all in all, life as I know it - is a mess, but a good mess.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Searching



I'm searching for something.

I feel like I'm not all here, as if my soul is somewhere else.

I can't be in the moment, I can't focus - I feel as if my brain is time traveling. It's traveling the Atlantic ocean at the moment.

I am not here. This is not me.

I'm searching for something.

I'm not Stacey - I am just a lost soul.

A soul that doesn't even know what it is looking for.

What am I searching for?

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Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Perfuna



I got the most beautiful surprise yesterday from Chris.

A purple orchid. (not the image as shown, it doesn't give her justification. She should be a model she is so beautiful. Photo shoot here we come.)

Now this is not the same surprise as a women receiving the run-of-the-mill bunch of rotting flowers from Spar. This was, and is, something special.

Now, let it be known that I love orchids.

My fascination started when I went to my Reiki class, and my Reiki teacher had an orchid on her table, amongst other spiritual items. For me, orchids are a spiritual plant. There is this energy around them.

I have Mr Bhudda and now I have Perfuna. My spiritual collection is growing. I always envisioned having a spiritual room with my Mr Bhudda and Perfuna, my orchid.

Yes, I have named her. (She is a she)

Purple + Flora = Perfuna. It's the perfect name.

It suits her.

What makes the surprise even better is that I looked on the tag and it said 'Butterfly Orchid'. Now, butterflies symbolise change and transformation. Something that I am continually doing - transforming...

Yes, one may think I am going overboard about an orchid. But I am not.

It's the meaning behind it, the meaning makes this gift so significant.

Babe, it is the perfect gift - thank you.

I love you.

Monday, October 11, 2010

three



My lucky number is three.

Things come in three's. Bag things.

You know how the saying goes...


1. Mother fucker

On my way to a work event at night - in the most dodgiest place in the whole world, I had an attempted smash and grab. He, who does not deserve a name, nor a description - came from my side (I was driving) and squeezed himself through the window like a piece of cheese through a key hole. Thank fuck Chris was in the car. My "helpy helperson". 'It' tried to grab Chris's phone. Luckily my night-in-shining-armour fought 'it' off. I don't care if my window is open, or I am standing naked with all my 'doors' (both meanings apply) open - it doesn't give any right to be violated. For fuck sakes...

2. Karma will get 'ja

I had R350-00 stolen out of my wallet on Saturday from a relatives house. I got that money from a job I did a few hours before so didn't even have time to fucken smell the notes. I won't curse you or beat the living shit out of you (I know who you are) as Karma will bite you in the ass. Just amazes me that I have to protect my belongings anywhere and everywhere I go - yup, from now on I am bathing with my purse, having sex with my purse on my arm...you get the point.

3. Car accident

If things come in three's - does this pertain to others who are close to you? My two friends were involved in a car accident on Saturday night. Thank God that they weren't hurt too bad.

Okay - so my three's have come and gone (here's for hoping)

Is three, for me, lucky after all?

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Ducks in a row



It's official. I am getting my ducks in a row.

It's a good feeling.

I finally, after much trepidation, submitted my tax return. Eeeekkk! Having a business, I get some income from that which is visible on my bank account. I hope I do not get a penalty or get into trouble. But, in all fairness, I think the 'tax man' has bigger fish to fry and will not check every person in the country. Well, I truly hope not. Now, I am not one for forgo my rightful duties as a tax payer and law abiding citizen, and don't intentionally hide some of my income from 'the debt collector'. But, I don't see why my extra income, which is actually under the normal level for business profit, should be noted.

To me tax returns are "adult" things. For me, its confusing. It's like trying to navigate to Mozambique without a map. I filled in what I could, then closed my eyes and pressed 'return'.

Well, at least that's taken care of.

Then 'foxy box', my car, is in for service today. Shame, she's so over due. She'll get fixed, scrubbed up and cleaned. Yes, this will cause a dent in my pocket, but it has to be done.

Another thing on the list of things to do... tick.

I've now got a designer to design my business website now too. Slowly but surely I am getting all my business legalities and admin sorted. It's time to get serious Stacey!

Another thing checked and ticked...

I'm also trying to get my 'fat' ducks in a row. I've noticed that some of them are putting on weight, so its out with the fatty foods and in with the healthy ones. I also have a bladder infection or thrush (which may have been caused by the lube I tried after Sexpo) - so its yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt! Burning urine and itchy fanny be gone!

For me now, its just about getting one fuck'en duck in a row at a time...!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Meeting Charlie @ Sexpo

* Warning *

This blog contains words of a sexual nature and should not be viewed by anyone with sensitive eyes, or anyone who is of a parental role in my life (unless you don't mind viewing your own daughter in this way).

Viewing of this blog is at your own discretion.

This blog is rated 18 SNL.

* Warning *


I am virgin when it comes to sexpo. I broke my virginity this year.

I wasn't interested in the event itself, more on the products.

Now, as any female would, I was always interested in getting a vibrator or dildo. Yes I have Chris, who is fullfilling under the covers, so I just wanted to see what one would be like.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Whilst looking through the wide range of products available at Sexpo, including anal beads, dildos, strap ons, lube, pocket pussies (the list could go on, and on, and on - as long as some of the dildo's I saw), I came across Charlie.

Charlie is my new vibrator. Everyone meet Charlie.

I can't explain what he looks like, but I'll show you what he doesn't look like...

He doesn't look like this...



He doesn't look like this either... (This would burn)



Nor like this...



Definitely not like this... (This would surely break me)



Chris, Harry, Sally, Charlie and I will make a happy family - he is the new addition to our family. Whether or not he will be used, or just gather dust in the cupboard, only time will tell. Maybe he was a once off experience, as nothing is better than the real thing. I'm glad to say, that I Stacey Rowan, have bought a vibrator.

I also got some other treats - yes, I decided to spoil myself. (I don't buy myself clothes, but I buy myself sex toys. )

Everyone has got to have a naughty draw - or else you're just a prune.

But, at the end of the day - Charlie is no competition for Chris. Yes, Chris, your penis is still my no one sexual device!

And that's that!

(P.S. - My ultimate job would be to be a sex columnist. So, if you're wondering why I am a pervert and writing about things of a sexual nature, don't read my blogs. If you feel I am a sin, pray for me. But if you are a normal sexually curious human being, of which most of us are, enjoy more sex blogs coming soon!)

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Fork in the road



I must apologise to you my dear blog ... aka diary.

'Dear Diary... I have neglected you. I haven't written to you in ages. Shame do you miss my blogs? Do you miss my sarcasm? Do you miss my humour? You you miss my cynical undertone?"

Things have been busy lately. Very busy.

My family has been here from Cape Town - my father, step mom and sister. I don't get to see them much. It hurts. There's always a happy hello and then a sad goodbye. It breaks my heart a lil' more every time...

It was truly great to see them again, it reminds me of how much I love and miss them. (It's hard not being able to see all your family, all of the time.)

I hope they know how much I love them and how much I wish I could see them all the time.

Whilst they were here (they left this morning) I also was going through a transformation, a change that brought up old issues. But as I am the person who continues to get up, I get up and carry on.
I have been dealing with the fork in the road as well. Now I have always been the entrepreneurial one. I see everyone around me going solo and starting there own business, yet I remain working for some one else - yet I have been doing my business on the side for almost 6 years. I just don't know which path to take? Go solo or stay at my full time job?

Decisions, decisions, decisions....

Damn you eff'er fork!

PS: I also had a near death encounter with an (or my own) ingrown toenail.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A gem in the city



Jo'burg is a concrete jungle.

Being Capetonian at heart, I have always felt that JHB is limited in terms of things to do. (I'd rather have the beach) But, once in a while you come across a gem in the city... sometimes in the form of a place, a botanical garden or a particular venue. It's these places that make you forget you are living in this concrete jungle.

I found a gem in the city.

Anyone for a womble in the jungle?

Wombles Restaurant, in Parktown North, is a gem.

I went with my hubi this week, where we were wined and dined.

Unaware of the dress code, I rocked up looking like a scobe. "Hi, I look like a 12-year old cheap-skate but can I please have a table for two. Oh and by the way... I have a voucher for R500-00, so basically I have no cash." (The voucher was given to us by my sister and her boyfriend. They missed out!)

Never have I experienced such service like this.

Chairs were pulled out for me.
My peas and carrots were served to me on my plate.
My serviette was placed on my lap by the hostess.

Wow, whose the queen now bitches?

And the food... wow, don't get me started on this. Steak to die for. Chips to salivate over and honey butternut and spinach to make your stomach growl.

I was also joined by my two friends - Mr Whiskey and Mrs Ginger Ale.
They brought their cousins and family relatives (I had more then one.)

"Hi, my name is Stacey Rowan and I am addicted to W & G.A."

They had different waiters for different roles. One to bring drinks, one to bring food, one to fix my serviette every nine seconds. (yes, they actually did this!)

After stuffing myself stupid, my husband and I sat around the bonfire drinking our beverages - wow, I felt like I was in Africa. How nice it was to relax and get away from it all....

(This could be a potential place where my husband can propose to me...)

Not only did Chris & I enjoy the benefits of Wombles - but Harry and Sally (my doggies) also had the benefit of chewing on the half masticated bones from our steaks the night before. Their enjoyment was cleverly visible in the 100 and 1 poos found on the floor the next morning. Delightful!

So yes, Wombles ranks one of the top on my list of restaurants.

Highly recommended!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Whiskey & Ginger Ale



I finally found it.

The perfect drink for me.

(Drum roll please...)

Whiskey & Ginger Ale.

Finding the right drink for you, is like finding the right man (I have that too), sometimes it can leave you broke, hungover - with a bad taste in your mouth. I have struggled for years to find the best fit...

Crackling - Got drunk off you once in my youth years...never again
Smiroff - you were nice, but too many can leave a thick film down your throat.
Tequila - you're great for getting drunk, but I can't sip you like fine wine.
Long Iceland Ice tea - you fab, but you decrease the money in my wallet.
Hunter's dry - lekker, but put simply - you're dry.

Yup, W & GA - I'm glad I found you.

I am glad we met eyes and I touched you with my lips.

I'm glad we fell in love.

W & GA - Bottoms up!

*Cheers*

The Flapper



I don't know why my choice of images comprises of 90% chickens but they always seem to depict the correct image, or correlate perfectly to a blog.

I am experiencing the flapper today. And badly.

Just as a bird will get in a fit and flap its wings at the speed of the light - so this pertains to a human.

Have you ever met a flapper?

Definition of a Flapper: An annoying person who complains, stresses or verbally expresses a problem constantly. An irritating person who worries about a small issue, the tiniest of problems, and makes a big scene about it, bugging you insistently.

I see the flapper every single - fuck'en - day.

That person reminds me of a bird - a chicken/turkey/cock - that I want to shoot.

...Roast with potatoes and veg...

I'm going to shout at the flapper soon...

In fact - Where is the shotgun?

Friday, September 10, 2010

The mule



This is the most perfect picture if I have ever seen one. Now, slap a picture of my face on the mule - and this is the ideal picture to depict my current status.

Stacey Rowan is this mule - Carrying a way-too-big load. Shame, poor ass.

I am suffering from B.O.

Not body odour - Burnt Out Syndrome.

I am now feeling the physical effects of my mental state. Stress & busyness has manifested and transformed into physical exhaustion.

1 cup of coffee, 1 vitamin, 2 bottles of Lucozade's = no help.

My body is screaming: "Fuck you Stacey, you need sleeeeeeeeppppppp. Fuck you Stacey, you need to relax. Fuck you Stacey, you need a holiday!"

I can't concentrate. Things go in one ear and out the other. This is what my emails comprise of...

'ajkfidgifygf bdhsvdhbffn efjgrig efiurgfirgnhbg fdskdigfd'

This exhaustion is making me backwards.

Stupid Burn Out - how long will this last?

I wish you were like B.O. - just one spray and you'd be gone...

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Coming of age



Like any good wine, we, as humans, ripen with time.

I had an epiphany yesterday. It was my sister's boyfriend's birthday. He was turning 28. I'll repeat myself ... 28! (This was a shock to me as I remember him being younger then 23.)

You never realise how quickly life goes (that you are getting older) and in turn, change the way in which you perceive yourself.

For me, I look at myself as a young person - never really an adult (hard to explain.) Basically, being almost 24 - I still think I am too young to get married and too young to have babies.

Basically if I had to get married now, this is how I would think I would look:



It's all wrong.

But, with my sister's brother turning 28, and all my friends and acquaintances stating on Face book that they are engaged or having babies - I have come to the realisation that I am of age.

This is the time. The time is now.

Upon changing my perceptions of myself, and now viewing myself as an adult (it's okay if I get married and have babies now) - I decided to celebrate with a glass of white wine at a restaurant called Plaka.

My name is Stacey and I am a cheap date. I got tipsy off one glass of wine.

Like wine, I have ripened.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Cupboards & books



Highs and lows.

Life is full of these.

Life is like a book - one chapter ends and the next one begins.

At this moment, I feel that my Jo'burg chapter has ended, and the new one in Hartees is starting. I feel I have done all that needs to be done here... It's a quite sense of peace.

Last week my mind and body was in a strange place - I felt like I was going to have a panic attack or heart attack - stress and anxiousness consumed me.

I now am at peace. I feel that all those feelings have disappeared into thin air. My mind is at ease. It's nice.

I went to FU-CHA this weekend. A trans party - a type of party I have never been to before. This was, for me, going to be the last big party I would experience. It was great, but I realised that this was no longer me... I was no longer the youngster I was before. I am a granny - and I am glad to be. You see, the plan was to leave at 6am in the morning, after having many hours of partying - but being the granny I am, I wanted to leave at 2. I needed my bed.

On Sunday, I heard of two people, one who went to school with me, who passed away. Although I did not know them very well - what hit home was the fact that they died at such young ages - life is short, too short. This brings on thoughts of: "Am I living my life to the fullest?", "Am I on the right path?" You start thinking about life and everything else that it encompasses. The shock and sadness consumes your being.

On Sunday night, I found myself digging through my cupboard, looking at old books, notes that I had written (chapters from my book), spiritual notes and I came across my hand analysis that my spiritual healer did for me when I was younger. Reading through my hand analysis I realised how the words spoke true. It intrigued me more into the spiritual. I am a spiritual being and I know in my heart that this is where I will inevitably end up - being a healer.

I also stood in the line to enter survivor. This was a disappointment. They gave me a red band and told me to come back at 4pm - of which I couldn't as I had other plans. I told myself that if I couldn't enter, I would take it as a universal sign. I did however, take a picture with other entries and it will probably go on the website or TV show - my lil' claim to fame.

Highs and lows.

Life is full of these.

Life is like a book - one chapter ends and the next one begins.

My new chapter is beginning.

Looking forward to it...

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Spring has sprung



It's the 1st of September - Spring Day.

This needs to be celebrated.

I can hear the birds tweeting, bees buzzing and people pomping (the season brings with it a new energy for sex, for some odd reason). The sun is shining, flowers are blossoming and there is this energy to the air, a sense of vitality.

It's spring day and everyone is wearing bright colours. Then there's me - all in black. But hey, my shoes are pink so that should count somewhat.

I'm secretly optimistic. It's weirdly great!

Happy Spring everyone!

We can now look forward to whales on the beach wearing teeny tiny bikinis, body odour for those who suffer from heat, blindness caused from looking at those whose skin haven't seen the sun for months, ants and mosquitoes, hay fever and not forgetting the change-of-season sickness that we are all bound to experience.

Farewell my good friend Winter.

"Spring has sprung!" - Enjoy it!

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

crazy day'zeez

I'm currently going through crazy day'zeez.

Everything is up in the air. It's unsettling.

I keep chasing the damn mice inside my skull. I swear, if my brain had legs - it would run away. Thank fuck for the skin that surrounds my skull.

Being over-analytical is a curse. May this gene not be passed onto my children. You end up analyzing everything so much that it takes away any sort of enjoyment or excitement. I swear, if I analyzed an apple hard enough, I'd turn it into a prune.

I'm all thoughts and emotions 24/7, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.

I'm in a weird place at the moment ... can't seem to figure out if its a depressive phase or if I am just plain stressed. Everyday I feel like I am going to have a panic attack, or even worse, a heart attack. I can feel the blood continuously on a high note, bubbling.

I need to take a breather. Better yet, I need a holiday. A T.I.M.E O.U.T.

Stacey - start living day by day. Focus on the present and don't worry about the future.

I'm chasing crazy daisies...

... and if I don't stop my stressing, soon I'll be pushing them. (Now, that's an ugly thought)

Friday, August 27, 2010

The Cock Coward



I'm fuming.

I'm so fuck'en mad. I was fine this morning, happy and care-free for once actually.

Then the bomb hit! Kabooooooooooooommmmmmmm!

Something happened at work today - I received an email from someone, who received the email from someone else. It was NOT a good email - it made me look bad.

Nothing irritates me more than when someone does not speak to your face, tells you the truth, but instead beats around the bush and tells everyone else besides you. This is known as THE COCK COWARD.

Tell it to my face - I can take it.



Now, I understand that the universe will put you in a place, whether it be a relationship or a job, that will make you grow.

But I'm not feeling growth at the moment, I feel like all my work, all my groveling, all my sweat and tears as gone, it's just disappeared into thing air. Poof! Now to start from scratch again....

To think you are doing so well at a job,or whatever else, and that your work is being noticed, and then you get smacked down again and made to feel like shit.

Damn you Cock Coward!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Hock a Loogie



Okay so I was looking for pictures of phlegm to put on this post, but the sight of some of them almost made me cotch in my lap.

Beavis and Butthead will suffice.

Being sick for a while, although physically okay - weirdly enough, I am now at the point where I have an insurmountable amount of phlegm stored up.

DEFINITION OF PHLEGM: the viscus mucus secreted by the walls of the respiratory tract.

Sniff. Phlegm. Cough. Phlegm.

I can actually feel the phlegm at the back of my throat - hanging there like dead weight.

I can't even count how many times I've swallowed my own phlegm today. I wonder what a plate of phlegm looks like? What is the nutritional value of this mucus? It'll probably keep me full for days...

I can't seem to bring myself to hock a loogie though. You know when you sniff and bring the phlegm to the back of the throat and then spit it out.

I remember as a youngster playing a computer game called 'Hock a Loogie'. The picture is from the actual game. You basically are Beavis or Butthead and you stand at the top of the building spitting on people's heads. [Small things amuse small minds]

[Change of topic]

It's amazing how the blogs I write are so not feminine. I mean, talking about my period and phlegm does not paint a 'girly' picture. Yes, I am not one to cake my face with make up, or paint my toe nails every night - I fart in the presence of my boyfriend, I poo with the door open (I love it for some odd reason) and I barely have any time to plaster my face on or do my hair.

One day, when I'm 40 odd - I'll then be feminine. I'll have the money to splurge on nice clothes and expensive make up. But for now, the way I am will have to do just fine...

My parents must be so proud of their 'tom-boy'....

Monday, August 23, 2010

KNAB



Now, I need to be careful when writing this. I don't want a lawsuit on my ass.

KNAB = BANK (Sneaky way of hiding the topic of this blog, but it stands true as these places are usually backwards)

I went to a bank - no need to mention names - and I'm beyond irritated.

I had to cash a cheque but they were unable to verify the signature. So, no I didn't get the money that I so desperately needed. Being broke, I needed this money to get me through the rest of the month until pay day.

So now, I have to drive with fumes, as I have no petrol. Dinner tonight, is Harry and Sally's dog poo on the floor.



Mmmm.... doesn't that look delicious. Just add some urine and enjoy!

As for cigarettes, I'll have to roll up toilet paper and smoke that... Desperation calls for it. (I have done that before as a kid)

This always happens when you least need it. Arg! (Clubbering head against the wall)

Banks can be so useless sometimes, especially the cashiers who just stare at you with a blank face, not offering any form of solution.

Bank slogans, from now on, should read:

Today, tomorrow, fuck'en never
Not Making things happen
Not Inspired, nor motivated and definately not involved

To top it all off, I fell on my face on the stairs in the bank. Yes Stacey Rowan, fell on her face and is now entitled to a R20 000 loan from the bank, of which she does not have to pay back.

From now on, I'm buying me a piggy bank - as in the olden days. Yes, me and piggy will no longer have to deal with these knabs.

Today is the day



Today is the day...

Today is the day of the rest of your life.

There are two things in my life that are happening today. No need to divulge it now,you'll know soon enough. These two things that will define my life for the moment and dictate my path I shall follow.

These things, or should I say major decisions, have the power to change your life. Turn it up side down, change it for the better or the worst.

Whether your decisions are the right choices or the wrong choices, you'll only know after wards.

Today could be the day that makes my dreams come true.

Today is the day which may push me to take a risk.

Today is the day that I have been waiting for my whole life.

Today is the day....

Wow, what a day!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Chicken & BJ's



Now this is just a thought.

I was face painting at a child's birthday party at a farm yard venue this past weekend. I was surrounded by 'em chickens and 'em roosters.

Some had broken legs, and walked with a strange limp.
Others were running as if there were on a high-speed tredmill. (A funny sight actually)
Some were fighting, with their wings 'a'flappin and beaks a' swarking.

Now there was this one chicken in particular, that kept surrounding me. It was stalking me with its beady eyes. It did not realise that to me, it looked like a chicken breast on a plate. Shame, poor thing.

Chicken and mushroom sauce, damn delicious.

No, that's ugly - veggies all the way.

I still love the hoenders though. They hold a special place in my stomach .... I mean heart.

Anyway, I began watching it walk. It's head moves back and forth in a swift-like motion.

This reminded me of an action of giving a blow job. Shit I have a crazy mind - relating a chicken head to a BJ. But, you just wait - when you are at a farmyard, you'll find yourself waiting for the chicken to walk - waiting to see the BJ head movement.

It's quite fascinating actually.

"And that's it for your natural geographic programme on Discovery Channel."

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Family Portrait



I kept listening to this song, by Pink, on the way home yesterday.

Some of the words speak true to me. It hit home.

"Mama please stop crying, I can stand the sound.
Your pain is painful and its tearing me down."

"I told dad you didn't mean those nasty things you said"

"This I come home to, this is my shelter"

"I don't want love to destroy me like it did my family
Can we work it out, can we be a family"

"Mommy I'll do anything"

"Daddy, make mama stop crying, coz I need you around
My mama she loves you, no matter what says is true
But remember I love you too"

"Don't want to go back to that place, but don't have a choice no way"

"Can we work it out can we be a family?
I'll do anything"

"In our family portrait, we look pretty happy.
Let's play pretend and act like it comes naturally."

"I don't want to split the holidays,
I don't want two addresses"

"In our family portrait we look pretty happy, we look pretty normal
Lets go back to that"



Whatever times or different situations this refers to, you don't need to know.

It is irrelevant.

I wish I had the perfect family portrait.

Wheat-grass



Anyone for a shot of freshly mowed lawn? Or a cup of grass the resembles the temperature and texture of freshly made sperm?

"I'll have one please!"

I just had a shot of wheat-grass at the vegetarian restaurant during lunch. And no, I am no virgin to this. On my 23rd birthday I wanted to do something out of the norm, something totally crazy. Wheat-grass it was! [This is rated crazy on the granny-scale of things to do.]

In order to get my nutrients up, I thought I give myself the 'delight' of experiencing this 'wonderful' monster snot once again.

Now, it keeps on repeating on me. Burp. Oh, there's the taste again. Burp. After taste!



Did you know that one tot of this stuff is equivalent to 1 kilogram of spinach or broccoli? Yes, it may taste like absolute shit, but hey ... it's health in a bowl.

With all this iron, whose the Popeye now?

Mr Bhudda



I finally caught up on my last class for my reiki course last night. I have completed my course and now am an Reiki Practitioner.

I usually like to buy small 'spiritual' things when I go to class, like a crystal or Antikarana poster. This time round, I needed something special.

He kept staring at me from across the room.

We kept locking eyes.

Out of all the wonderful things that could have caught my eye, he did. My, Mr Bhudda.

He's beautiful.

After purchasing him, I started to think of universal signs and the meaning of the purchase.

Now, Bhudda's have different meanings - the fatties mean abundance. The ones with closed eyes mean to look within yourself. The ones holding their hands in an 8-shape, mean infinity.

My Mr Bhudda has closed eyes and his hands open gently on his lap. He means the answers lie within (look within yourself for the answers.)

Now, I have always been the type of person to ask a million and ones questions to everyone else, looking for advise, looking for answers. I never really believed in my own wisdom before checking with everyone first.

I went on the reiki course to find answers, to find answers to myself and my life. I thought it would provide me with these answers. But what I have learnt is that I hold the wisdom, the key to my own life, my own existance.

He is symbolic and significant to me. He ended my course, my personal journey, with the answer. To look within myself.

He now sits in my lounge, watching me. Reminding me that I hold the key.

I now have my own Bhudda, something that I have wanted to so long.

My Mr Bhudda.

Monday, August 16, 2010

My red friend



Okay, now I normally would not put a picture up like this, but I couldn't resist. It's something you don't see every day. Shame the poor guy in the picture. Stupid doos. (Yes, he thinks he is cool.)

Now I normally wouldn't advertise on the web, in front of everyone, that I am on my period.

Yes, Stacey Rowan is bleeding from the inside. (OK, that's pushing it slightly)

But the occasion calls for it. I don't why it is but this month I have been so paranoid - stressing to no end that I was pregnant. I had no logical reason to be, maybe its just because my thoughts were spiraling out of control.

So there I was on Friday night in a dodgy dark toilet, above the pharmacy, urinating over my hand, trying to wetten the pregnancy text. Negative.

I woke up at 05h30 the next morning to do another test. (It's always most accurate first thing in the morning.) Negative.

And now, the final test - I passed. I came on.

[Chris, no babies for you this month.]

Wooooooooooooooooooooo, what a relief...

Friday, August 13, 2010

Dedicated to Haddock



This blog post is dedicated to Haddock, formally none as Joe Zachariah. Now I don't know him from a bar of soap and no, I have never met him.

Upon scrolling down my blog, I noticed he had a made a comment on one of my posts. Now, I only have two followers listed on my blog - although I am sure more people read it. No one seems to write comments though unfortunately.

[HINT] Post comments on my blog so that I know you have read them.

After reading his blog profile, I realised he lived all the way in Pune, India. It made my day. The fact a person, even if it just one person, from all the way across the sea, across the world in fact, has read my blog. Has read Stacey Rowan's blog.

Not only is it nice to know that I have reached others, but it feels even better to know that I have reached people on the other side of the world.

So, Haddock I thank you for this.

My goal of reaching people and sharing my stories, is on the road to completion.

Wow, this certainly feels amazing.

Neck spasm



My neck it outta wack. Ouch.

I didn't have my special pillow last night and now I have to bear the brunt of it. It's getting worse. I need a massage. Where art thy magic fingers?

I was focused at work this morning and managed to get a lot done. My head is above water now and I am no longer sinking. Although I have a pile of articles to write. Writers block begone!

Focused. Not focused. Focused. Not focused.

I'm back to my normal smoking amount. Damn you cigarettes! As my stress levels go up, so does the amount.

I have a show day for the flat this weekend. Thy shalt not be negative, nor worry if the house doesn't sell or if people have bad comments about it. I also have a giant job for a large corporate client this weekend for my business. I have hired 6 people for this job. That's the most I have ever hired for one job. Stacey Rowan- Mizz Employer. There's so much to prepare but funnily enough I am not worried.

"I am stress-free" - one affirmation I have to keep repeating to myself.

I found a great Chinese place that sells yummy food. So there I was with Chris eating Chinese and watching a thriller/horror movie. I love horror movies, for some arb reason.

'So that's your daily update from the Stacey Rowan Station, 95.6. Tune in later for another report."

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

B-R-E-A-K an EGG



This is not going to be a positive, happy-go-lucky blog post full of pink daises and butterflies.

This is negative, this is reality.

I have witnessed people on the brink of insanity. I have witnessed people over-dose on drugs. I have heard of people who tip over the edge of reality, and do things that would affect any normal person like walking in a busy road naked. This is scary but unfortunately this is a reality.

Push a potato too far, and what you get is mash, in fact humpty Dumpty. Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horses and all the kings men, couldn’t put Humpty together again. Is this true for all humans? If you crack, you are inevitable broken and cannot be fixed. There seems to be a thin line between sanity and insanity.

Make a person go through continual heart-wrenching and tough life lessons, and watch them crack. This life we live in is a harsh one. It is not for faint hearted, nor for the fragile, nor the weak.

Are we all eggs waiting to crack? Waiting for the world to scramble, or boil, or fry us?

Gosh, I sound cynical. I'm actually draining myself.

PS: This picture of Humpty Dumpty freaks me out.

PPS: Witnessing these people drop off the edge of reality, makes me realise how strong and positive I am.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

N.O.W

The world as it is now...

The quitting smoking thing has seemed to come to a grinding, actually screeching, halt. I am back to my usual amount of deathsticks. Maybe Monday I will start again, or the next Monday. Things just have been overly stressful and I find the crave, on top of everything else that is going on in my life, is too much to handle. I'll quit when I live on an island, with a animal skin fanny-cover (wow, now that's a sight, and not a good one). I can't cope without my 'stress relievers.'

The house is in its finishing stages. I got some guy - "Rambo", as he's named, to come and hang up the door. He did a great job! Very 'well-hung'. We just have a few bits and bobs to do now. My folks picked up the large dining room table on the weekend, so the flat is getting more bare as the days go by. We are still living and sleeping in the lounge. We have some oki coming round tomorrow night to view the place, cross fingers.

I'm still overloaded at work but managed to get a lot done. I have to train my psychotic brain that I can only do what I can in a certain amount of hours. Leave work at work and don't bring it home where I unload it onto Chris. (Shame my poor babe, I need to make you my no.1 priority, instead of bitching about work, money or other problems.) Things will come right, they always do.

I have a massive job on for my business, for a big client, this weekend. I'm fuck'en anxious about it. I have to hire like 7 other people to come with me. Getting everything ready in a short amount time is hectically stressful. I hope that everything will come together though.

I'm scared I'm pregnant.

Even saying those words freaks me out. I don't know why I am so para. I've done nothing different this month. But it's on my mind constantly. I hope not. I pray not. Only a few days to go until my red friend comes, and boy will I welcome her with open arms.

I seem to be in a busy place in my mind at the moment. (As always)

Everything is up in the air. Maybe it's because I am in a transition phase.

So many worries, such a small brain.

Money is also on the issue-plate. At the moment I am stone broke. I am waiting 'patiently' for the money to come. Money is always an issue though.

I'm trying to be positive and say positive affirmations. I'm beginning to get into a negative-mind space, although 'secretly' optimistic. I know that sounds weird, but even when I'm very negative and I still see the end of the tunnel.

"I have abundance"
"I am positive"
"I attract good things into my life"
"Things will come right"
"I will do a good job - both in my business and in my work"

I found myself saying these things in my car on the way to work. It's actually quiet comforting when you think positive.

I look forward to going home tonight, to have gnocchi and this awesome sauce from woolies - chicken pecorino. Look forward to snuggling with my hubi, in the sanctuary I call home, and escape from this business I call my life.

"Honey, I'm home"

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Never send a women to do a man's job

For me, the saying 'Never send a women to do a man's job' holds true. But the same can be said about 'never send a man to do a woman's job.'

I have been running around like a blue ass fly, trying to get things to fix up the flat. During my lunch break I got paint and glue sticks. I still need to fix the bathroom and the hand rails, they are looking shabby. With money being tight, I need to get a mass of shit, on a limited budget. After driving from shop to shop, I finally found these damn glue sticks. I then phoned Chris to tell him...

Stacey: Babe, I got the glue sticks for the bathroom

Babe: What do they look like?

Stacey: The ones that you heat up, finger width, long. You have the gun remember...

Babe: No, we need the silicon ones. We have the gun for that.

Stacey: No, you said glue sticks

Babe: No, i didn't

Stacey: When you say gun - are you talking about that metal thingy?

Babe: Yes

Stacey: But I thought you meant that plastic gun, you use for the glue. That metal thingy is not a gun.

Babe: No, you put the stick in there

Stacey: But, Silicon is a TUBE. A tube. It's got that pointy thing on it. Oh shit, now I've just wasted money. This is why you should've gone and bought it.

Babe: Don't blame me for this.

This is why you do NOT get a women to do a man's job. This is precisely why you shouldn't get a women to get stuff from the hardware store. Give me cooking or baking and I'll cook you under the table. Give me a hammer, nail, or cement and I'll end up gluing my head to a tree.

Do I look the Bob the fuck'en Builder to you?

Uninspired Transition

I woke up this morning with two words popping into my head immediately: 'Uninspired' and 'Unmotivated'. I lay on the couch, for 10 minutes thinking about these concepts and how my life seemed to be in a rut. This rut, in a sense, causing me to feel both.

It started last night - the overwhelming-ness of it all. The agent is coming around on Thursday to take pictures, so I'm trying to get everything sorted before then. But, the thing is - the more I look at the things that need to be done, the more I notice more things that need a fix up. I'm getting anxious about whether or not everything will be done in time, and if the place will actually sell.

Where's my anxiety pills?

I think what is happening in my life currently, is the fact that I'm getting overwhelmed in every aspect of my life. I'm almost snowed-under, on the verge of sinking. It's like I'm in water and the only thing sticking out is my nostrils. Scary. I just want to lie in bed, cover my head and run away from it all. but I can't.

Change is good but during the transition, you don't know if you are coming or going. It's like everything is up in the air. Work, moving houses, face painting jobs and money are all becoming a bit to much to handle. I need to adopt the following thinking: I am only one person. Take everything one small step at a time.

This flu also doesn't seem to be buggering off either.

This too shall pass.

I'm also craving cigarettes. It's making me edgy. (I even had a fight with chris about Almond ice cream - I mean for fuck sakes.)

This too shall pass.

As, like most humans who cannot not be tempted by sin, I have not gone Cold Turkey. I am realistic. I had 4 1/2 / 5 cigs yesterday - for the wholllleeeeeeeeee day and night ...... the whole 24 hours. This is damn good for me. Today I only brought 3 cigs to work. Every day - I'm hoping will get a bit easier - but I am still trying to quit.

This too shall pass.

Although, funnily enough - the day today seems to be getting better as it goes on. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I'll get there. It'll all work out.

If not, where's the cigs?

Sunday, August 1, 2010

I'm quitting smoking!

Looking at this picture: Is any one hungry? Anyone care for a piece of fillet?

They should have this picture on the back of a cigarette box.

I, Stacey Rowan, am kicking this dirty habit in the butt - I Q.U.I.T smoking. This blog serves as a 'invisible' contract that I will no longer smoke death sticks anymore. Yes, health is an issue - but when you are young we think we are untouchable, that we will not end up tied to an air machine, clutching at the few straws of life. Wrong. Not only do these death sticks deplete your health but they deplete your money too.

If I estimate, I buy one box a day (yes, I share with my boyfriend but still.) One box is about R30.00. There are 7 days in a week, so that's R210. Times that buy 4 weeks and you get R840 per month. That's R840 I could spend on food, or getting my nails done or my hair cut. Shit, and there I always am wondering why I'm so stone broke.

This quitting is a challenge to see how much money I can save. Basically I will no longer smoke because I can no longer afford it. This dirty habit is burning a hole in my pocket... and a hole in my lungs.

I've been a loyal and dedicated smoker for about 10 years. Enough is enough.

I'm waiting for the cravings to surface, for the moods to explode, for the dragon to rear its ugly head. Lord help me. Yes, this will be a huge test, but it needs to be done. Only 21 days needed to break a habit - I'll need about a year. But, I am not going cold turkey. I need to be realistic. I have a safety cig box at home, just in case I need one. If the urge gets too much. I have reduced my limit, for now, to 2 cigs a day. That's good enough. Then hopefully, I will no longer need this crutch. I will be SS (like Alcoholic Anonymous) but Stopped Smoker.

I have implemented a few rules: No smoking in my car and No smoking in the house, only outside.

My boyfriend is also quitting. This also serves me well as I can't smoke if he doesn't - I don't want to have to kiss him with an ashtray mouth. He needs to support me, he needs to keep me focused.

I'm glad I have this blog. I will document my 21 days on here.

I actually look forward to having money at the end of the money, waking about feeling vitality, having a fresh breath, no longer stinking like a chimney and just been able to run up a staircase with my throat not burning.

yup, this is a good thing. My parents will be pleased....

Kent Silver, you have been my friend for some time now, but I can no longer hold your hand whilst you gently suffocate me. I will no longer be able to buy you, or say hello at the petrol station. I will no longer be able to caress you within my lips, breathing in your deathly aromas. I will also have to say goodbye to your family members to - the ashtray, the lighter, the matches. You guys will easily be able to go and find some other one to possess, but I can no longer be your friend.

The journey starts now - wish me luck!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Flu: It finally found me

Crap. It's finally found me. I feel like dog balls.

When I get flu, I get it bad... and I get it quickly. In one day, like today, my nose is red, I'm tired as hell, I have phlegm, my muscles ache, I am weak - I have flu. Full blown flu. I'm surrounded by millions of white tissues, it's a germ barrier to 'subconsciously' tell everyone to fuck off.... "don't be invading my space. Stay away." I'm a vessel for a viral infection. "If you irritate me, I'll cough in your face!"

I can't even type properly. With my brain not functioning properly, I can barely spell. hsdgfidhgfhifhdihfdfdfhbdfkn mvfkmfpogiiuieiurytr86reru90reojdiodjier39i09ri49uruhrhg kjfuigfdiufgdyfgydfgdfyugdhfbkewru984ry498y084u89u]t498t. You have no idea how many times have had to edit this bloody post in order for it to make some sense.

I need bed. And bad.

I'm the man in the picture. I feel so sick that yes, I've transformed into him.

I've been taking vitamins and vitamin shots constantly, but still - the flu still manages to find me.

fhgdfhgidg jdsgniodgsjioghrjg vkj vjkbvihdgvdyuvbjnglkmdsklfmpoefi4098945784y38e73h913ej.
skjfgdfinoru498y72e0.

Tonight - it's tomato soup and early bed. I was going to work but no ways! No cleaning, no painting, no working - just beddy-byes.

OK, so I've pumped my body with ClorenzaC and vitamin drinks - lets hope for the best.

Monday, July 26, 2010

I'm entering Survivor!



When most people enter Survivor - they're fit, a nature-enthusiast and they have the appropriate qualities that make them the perfect survivor candidate. When considering the perfect candidate, I'm probably on the bottom of the list - rock bottom.

But it's these imperfect qualities that make me the perfect survivor! You see, survivor is actually not about how a boer can maak a vuur, or how someone can catch 10 fishes in one go, or how one wins all the challenges - it's about the cranky ones that sit in the corner, complain and become the hated ones in the group. Now, my intention is not to be the hated one - but I'll most certainly be the loud-mouthed, extroverted, lazy, fun-filled one, that gets on everyone's tits.

Yup - I'll make for great tv!

Minus nivea cream, cigarettes, food = Cranky bitch.

Remember now that not only do I have OCD when it comes to dry hands, but if I am hungry or craving a smoke - I get ratty. If I have to do any other exercise, besides walking to the fridge and back, I complain and start pretending that I am having an asma attack. (I did that in primary school when we we having a school competition against another school, and I was coming last) So why the hell would I want to put myself in this situation then? Put simply - I want to test myself. I want to see how far I can push myself.

Not only will there be no cigs, or nivea, or food, or my family/boyfriend for that matter - but I'll be faced with another problem!

I hate salad - or should I say rabbit food. Anthing that tastes of nothing, or that is healthy, makes me yak. Although I am a great lover of vegetables, I hate fruit. The only fruit I can manage is apples, banana's, and oranges - but it's not like there is a multitude of these fruits on the island. You're basically stuck with coconuts, weird-ass berries, and some other fruits I have never heard of. So, yes I am pretty much screwed in this area. I'm also not a great lover of fish - although Salmon is yummy. "Yes, I'll have one salmon with hollandaise sauce please, with a chocolate milkshake." That should be easy enough to order on an island that is miles away from anything, isn't it?

I also hate the sun. I am not one of the chickies who sit in the sun for hours, burning themselves. I'll lie in the sun for 5 minutes and start to feel claustrophobic. And on the odd occasion that I fall a sleep in the sun, I wake up in pain with the site of my fucken red legs. Then I peel. I don't tan - I fucken burn. But you know what, I also never ever ever ever ever get into a costume. I hate when fat people walk around in bikinis, with their fat rolls hanging everywhere. Now, I am not huge but I know that I can't wear a bikini. So I'll be the one in the corner, wearing a snow man's outfit (covered head to toe), sweating in the scorching sun.

Then there's bugs. Yuck! I have the paranoia of bugs flying in my ears or vagina, laying eggs. Best be sleeping in the trees then hey. Oh, but that reminds me that there are no beds there. Shit, I thought I would be staying a luxury hotel on survivor - damn. Then there's the issue of razor blades. My bodily hair grows like weeds. So I''ll be the 'red' one complaining about my hunger pains, cigs cravings, whilst waving my arms around, revealing my hairy armpits and exposing my pubic hair that has made its way out of my panties. Wow, that sounds damn attractive.

OK - so this all looks very promising... Yup, I am going to win this. I may not be great at the man-work nature stuff, but hey - I'll make for fab TV.

I'll apply in September.

PS: Those are pictures of me. Don't I look so survivor-like. If only I had a gun on survivor to kill the fish, instead of standing for hours trying to catch them with a spear. But actually, I won't be doing that, the men will. And I'll just lie back, sipping on dirty water (cocktail 'ala-poo), watching them slave away.

Yes, this will definately be interesting!

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Can you see I'm in pain?



So I went to the dentist today. My worst nightmare.

I first had the 'pleasure' of going to the oral hygienist and then to the dentist.

I experienced an oral hygienist about a year ago. The lady was terrible. When upon booking the appointment this time round, I made damn sure I didn't book with the same lady. But sure enough and just my luck, I was shown to the same women. Oh shit I thought.

Now, anyone in the 'helping' industry like doctors, gyny's and dentists, should not only have the skill to do a good job, but they should have tact and human interaction capabilities. Even if it is just a level up from apes.

This women, and I shit you not, had no tact. Not only did she handle my head like a soccer ball but she shoved my head left and right with such force. Yes, I understand that plague does require some force in order to remove it, but come on, I could feel my teeth cracking.

Now, I have very sensitive teeth. Chocolate makes them pain, I can't brush my teeth with cold water and any tapping or scrapping makes them ache. But this was ignored by this 'lady'. I lay in the chair, in such agony, with my limbs moving at the touch of every nerve. Could she not see I was in pain? No.

Then my mouth was engulfed with a bucket of water and I couched it up, half choking, when she touched a nerve. Then I had the spraying water thingy-my-bob spraying water all over my face. This was a cleaning teeth appointment, not a fucking facial. I had water dripping down my neck at rapid speeds. This was truly awful.

She then touched on a very delicate nerve, which in turn made me ball into tears. The whole experience was just whelming up in my eyes. She then brushed it off, with no tact or comfort. There were no emotions.

She was not nice to me, nor did she display any comforting emotions, nor did she care. People in this profession need to interact with their patients in a comforting way. When you see your patient in pain, fuck'en do something about it. And especially, with a patient like me who is paranoid, stressed out and anxious at the thought of going to the dentist.

Needless to say, after my encounter with the devil dentist - I am all fixed up and no longer have the dreaded 'hole in one' looming.

Thank fuck that's over!