Thanks - I quit

Sometimes it all just seems a bit too much... or a bit too hard.

One of my favourite self-helpy type guru (hate that word) people, Martha Beck has a philosophy that I find interesting. She's a bit fan of horse-whispering (I'm sure my close friends will have heard me blather on about this while they glazed over blah blah blah - horse whispering... blah blah blah self help).

The theory is that you show the horse your intention, watch it carefully but not directly while all the time still continuing to give it body language that you want to join up with it.... the horse will also show that it's ready by chewing and other things... but the crucial step is once the horse seems ready... you turn your back and walk away and the horse will come to you.

This is something I have a problem with. I want to make things happen... to manage them and force them and it just doesn't work that way. You can only do what you can and then you just have to let that sucker go... and let the chips fall where they may.

This is terrifying to a control freak like me, but in my life nothing has ever worked when I've tried to make it go my way. You can't be passive or put in no effort either but you just have to be consistent and not worry about the outcome. Even if you get no feedback (which is the hardest thing... this weekend we played a gig to about 3 people... it felt like that but in the end I just thought - I quit - I can't make this better, I can't make this fuller, I in fact can't do shit except my job... when I finally did that everything was ok.)

So this post is just a little letter to me to remind me that sometimes you just have gently coax things along and then walk away and the solutions will come to you.

Below is Monty Roberts taking a horse from nothing to saddle and rider in something like 30 minutes...

A Wednesday Poem and Picture

I've been busy - crazy busy (refer to previous time on my hands posts - now think the opposite...)

buuuuuuut I do have something special for you - a wee taste of three of my fave creative genies...

Sugar Magnolia Wilson: Poet
Mike Worsnop: Photographer
Alica: Cat of perfections

This Haiku was written as a tribute to awesome Japanese cat pictures...




Ode to Hakata (a Haiku)

If you're Japanese

And take photos of your cats -

I do not hate you.

https://www.facebook.com/MikeWorsnopPhotography?fref=ts

Happiness and Sloshy Spinach

Bonjour/soir Blogee's

In this week's blog.... I'm not pissed off, I read 50 Shades of Grey and I attempt to make a green smoothie.

I has come to my attention (thank you flatmate) that I'm the a bit like the Alanis Morrisette of blogging i.e. I do it better when I'm pissed off. Yet as spring is sprunging and I'm still working through the jumbo box of shortbread I got for my birthday, I find that I am only able to work myself up into a state of mild annoyance. True it vexes me that the temperature is only going up slowly and that I only have a half a box of shortbread left and that the world is due to end in a couple of months (thanks Mayan Calendar!) so making any real effort to exercise seems like a waste of time because I won't need to worry about January beach time (which makes my thighs happy but my heart sad).

In spite of all these very real and pressing issues, I'm still pretty darn cheerful. Not really sure why - but I'll take it. I think that part of it might be waking up after 7 if the morning. It's amazing what a difference working with your actual body clock does. Maybe it was the green smoothie.... but more about that later.

For those of you who have read 50 Shades or possibly intend to do an "audio book read by Morgan Freeman" listening party. I have a little game for you... The Fifty Shades of Grey Drinking Game... yay.

I was introduced to these games by my brother (e.g. the rap video drinking game.... dude grabs his crotch... drink... ho shakes booty into camera... drink and so on)

So here it is get some friends or do it on your own...

Fifty Shades of Drinkin'... every time someone in the book raises an eyebrow..... drink... if the eyebrow raise is described with an adverb... drink again (e.g. he raised his eyebrow sardonically) every time Anastasia Steele (yeah I know, don't get me started on the name) incorrectly calls her conscious critical mind her subconscious... drink (and then drink again as you try to figure out how she got her four year English degree from a prestigious university that is saving the world from famine through Christian Grey funded research and STILL doesn't know what a subconscious is), every time you read the phrase "Inner Goddess".... drink, every time Anastasia has a highly unfeasible orgasm... drink, every time she describes Mr Grey's trousers... drink! By page 82 you will be completely hammered, which is probably the best way to get through the rest of the book.

Having said that - I finished it without the aid of alcohol and was very disappointed no-one got to use the butt-plugs from the giant butt-plug drawer in the "Red Room of Pain" (oh E. L. James you tease - good work with the nipple clamps though)

After that I needed something healthy to cleanse myself of the bad influence of trashy literature. And so I turned to the green smoothie pledge I made... yes my friends I made one and drank it too.

Unfortunately,while I may be the Alanis of blogging, I am also the Mr Bean of domesticity. Please try to watch the video without judgement.

Many thanks to my poor long suffering flatmate for having the courage to film me trying to work a blender.

Mini - WTF

It's Friday - yay.

This morning I took a break from frantic typing of various manuscripts and things to surf the internet... one of the main headlines... "Lady Gaga gets fat!"

Really?

Seriously?

It's just an ass - get over it. You would swear she had dressed up like Jesus and burned a copy of the Qu'ran  AND a rescue puppy the way that people were freaking out.

What's worse is that I read the article.... I thought "oooh Lady Gaga is putting on weight I have to read that...." I hate myself right now, I really do.

Stop torturing people for putting on 10 kilograms it's not a fucking character flaw.

(She also smoked dope on stage which might not have been a wise choice but the fact that she was fuller figured was the main tack of a lot of the articles.)

Gah

That is my Friday mini - WTF


Here is the picture....  oh the horror!

I will leave you with that Friday classic... by Rebecca Black

Grouchy and ungreen

Hmmm this morning I woke up and I felt a bit angry with the world.

I have a cold, the builder next door keeps on singing with the music they play (he's one of those "ha ha I'm salt of the earth cheerful with a GSOH" types - who also thinks he's an amusing yet surprisingly talented singer... he is not!)

The birds are singing too loud and I think my cat hates me.

I think I have a life hangover.

I also concluded that I will never be a truly successful hippy because I just can't face mung beans or Chia seeds! (what is a Chia seed you ask? Fucked if I know... but they're on every hippy recipe site in the whole world ever - Chia seeds are the new Goji Berry) In fact since my birthday party I've been subsisting happily on a diet of left over cheese cubes, cocktail sausages and stuffed olives (I did make home-made hummus which gives me back some of the hippie points I lost with the cocktail sausages). I also don't know if I can bring myself to make a green smoothie. If you haven't heard of green smoothies they're all the rage at the moment. They're meant to give you glowing skin and sparkling vitality with their massive kick of micro and macro nutrients.

How do you make one of these little slices of nutrient heaven you may ask.... weeeelll you take some delicious fruit mmmm fruit and then add the same amount of Kale or spinach or some other type of green stuff. Then you blend it all together until it looks like.... well not good..... and you drink it.

I just don't think I can do it!

My journey into trying a whole bunch of new shizz to find better ways of doing things and conquer my fears etc has been interesting... sliding down scary things... check... going to random theatrical events... check.... meditation... check.... attending singles evening... check (oh hell I didn't write about that one... ha ha ha it was hilarious.... next post I promise). I even threw myself a birthday party which is one of my biggest fears (people who have known me for years can attest to this - every year my birthday comes and I don't organise anything - my thirtieth was an evening of Karaoke with 3 other people....)

The party was freaking rad! We had bongo drums and music and my beautiful friends - will definitely have a party again - yay another fear conquered. Which brings us back to healthy eating... I think that I'm going to have to attempt a green smoothie just to say that I have tried one. I will video the creation and and consumption for your amusement.

I have not backed down from the other challenges I will not be intimidated by a glass of green baby-sick.

Oh God I've committed now - I'm probably going to have to do it.

I'll keep you posted... now I have to figure out what kale is... I could probably pick up a burger on the way.

p.s. Below is Kris Carr - she is the queen of the green smoothie... mmmm delicious

Foodtown queue conversations and tips for canning jars... in that order

Too much time on my hands. You would think that that would mean more bloggeration, but it seems that it's hard to find inspiration when you have nothing... well nothing to annoy you.

I have realised this week that I only blog when I'm grumpy about something. Like a couple of days ago I was in the queue at the Foodtown when this random dude behind me struck up a conversation. Actually he struck up a monologue and it involved a lot of insulting my toilet paper choices and some TMI moments.

So there I was minding my own business in the Foodtown queue wondering if I should splash out an buy a magazine when this happened...

Random oldish man: "Your friends will think you're cheap buying the paper with no pictures on it ha ha." (He was one of those guys who had a slight overweight person's wheeze when he spoke (always slightly louder than was necessary or appropriate), elasticated shorts and a moustache.)

ME: (inside) "Oh no seriously?"

       (out loud) "It's really good toilet paper."

ROM: "blah blah blah paper blah blah" (Over loud incongruously jovial tones with undercurrents of "hey everyone look how clever and hilarious I am")

ME: (not really listening) "insert random half arsed attempt at witty come back"

ROM: (aggressively "funny"  reply completely unrelated to what I just said, offensiveness enhanced by slightly disconcerting invasion of optimum personal space) "blah blah blah toilet paper blah blah blah"

It becomes clear to me at this point that ROM has an agenda and isn't really listening to me. I try not to listen to him but I'm trapped between him and the old lady slowly going through her purse at the check out and my socialisation has taught me not to be rude. So I smile half-heartedly and look to the other end of his trolley. The man's wife is looking everywhere but at me and I can tell from her expression that she's glad someone else has to deal with 'Mr Opinions' rather than her. 

I'm trying to feign a pressing interest in the canning jars I'm putting on the conveyor belt. (the canning jars are a whole 'nother story... leading my flatmate to say "Hey T. The 1950's called and they want their pastimes back!" - too much time on my hands... you're lucky this blog isn't about the 101 uses for jars.)

Back to the story...

ROM: "blah blah blah you don't work for the government do you?"

ME:   (inside) "What?"

         (out loud) "What?"

ROM: "The government - you know. You probably work for the IRD."

ME:  (inside) "WHAT?!"

         (out loud) "Yeah. That's why I'm here, buying this white toilet paper in the middle of the         day. Ha ha"

ROM: Frankly I can't stand them... they're completely useless. ("humourous" tone dripping with just a touch of bitterness)

I wonder if he realises that by supposing that I work at the IRD and then saying how much it sucks that he's actually being a bit offensive...

ROM: "Do you know that the IRD made more mistakes with my business than with any other business in the history of the IRD."

ME: (inside) "I don't care."

        (out loud) "Oh that's terrible."

I look over at the wife, she makes guilty eye contact with me for about a second and then becomes very interested in the lighter and antacid display that lines the passage to the check out.

ROM: I even declared bankruptcy and they still said I owed them blah blahblah (I don't remember numbers sorry). It took them 6 months to work it out.

ME: (inside) (very uncharitably) I CAN'T imagine why your business didn't work out - you seem like you'd be a TREAT  to work with.

        (out loud) Oh. Gee that's awful.

 At this point I stop making eye contact because I don't want to talk to this guy anymore... this does not deter him.

ROM: "Are you sure you don't work for the government? I bet you're John Key's personal assistant."

ME: (inside) WTF?
        (out loud) Yes Mr Key loves his plain toilet paper."

ROM: "I can't stand the guy. How do you know when John Key is lying?"

ME: (censorship is gone now. Why would I work for John Key? Is it his way of working in the only joke he knows?) UM let me guess (dripping sarcasm)... when he opens his mouth?

ROM: No no when he scratches his head he's telling the truth... when he opens his mouth he's lying ha ha ha.

ME: (inside) Didn't I just say that?

        (out loud) .... (nothing, at this point I pull the plug on responding to anything the guy says)

Mercifully I get to the check out lady at this point. She is a lovely Indian lady. I want to hug her for not being ROM. She asks me about the jars. I tell I'm going to make lemonade concentrate. She asks how you do that, I tell her. It's a nice conversation. And then...

ROM: (loudly interrupting the conversation. Smug that he has managed to find me out and recognize my accent) "What part of South Africa are you from?"

ME: (inside) Fuck off

       (out loud) Johannesburg... and then you keep the syrup in the fridge and you can add soda water and make lemonade. My friend does it. It's amazing.

Check out lady: "That sounds great. I'll try it. That's 52 Dollars"

ROM: "Don't tell her that... say it'll be 349 Rand. I can do foreign exchange calculations in my head. And no I'm not an accountant or a mathematician... ha ha." 

ME: (inside) Seriously... fuck off

        (out loud) "......"

Check out lady: "Are you collecting stickers? To get the glass set?"

ME: "Ooh no, but I'd like too"

ROM: "Don't drink any Nederberg out of those glasses, those are Kiwi glasses. ha hahah ha ha" (the word Nederberg is pronounced like it's some kind of $1 dollar vodka made of of gasoline and the unwashed calluses of Russian field workers")

ME: (inside) "I hate you."

        (out loud) "I only drink South African red wine." (I don't but this dude makes me want to be patriotic)

Check out lady: "I've heard that the red wine from Italy and Spain is great."

ME: "Yeah, Chile too."

ROM: "Do you want to know something about red wine?"

ME: (out loud - with barely veiled sarcasm) "I bet you're going to tell me anyway."

ROM: "If you ever go to the blah blah blah region blah blah blah Australian blah blah bubbly red wine blah blah blah refrigerator blah blahblah"

ME: (inside) Your poor wife

       (out loud with no veiling of sarcasm) "WOW you learn something new everyday."

I took one look over my shoulder at his partner and thought 'better you than me lady" and hightailed it out of there.

I sat in my car for a bit wondering if I was an anti social person. It did weird me out when I lived in  Christchurch and the local butcher recognised me. "Hi there Miss. Beef Sausages again?"

I felt strangely intimidated. I didn't want a personal connection with the butcher - I just wanted some beef. And it was none of his business if it was sausages again. Just shut up and give me the sausages.

Being from a big city, you learn that you have to be careful who you make conversation with... they could be weirdos. And I like the fact that you really don't have to speak to anyone like on the London Underground. Sometimes I, being a bit of a natural introvert, find making conversation unbearably difficult. 

It also brings up the question of lack of community in urban environments. People need people. I particularly feel for the elderly. I can see how it would be lonely when no one takes the time out to speak to you or acknowledge your existence. Maybe having a bit of a chat in the Foodtown aisle makes us all feel connected again. Maybe feeling connected would make us nicer. And the more we shut off from other people the harder it becomes to open up. I encourage everyone who reads this to have a chat with a person in the Foodtown aisle. Especially if they're a lonely looking little old lady.

Just please refer to the above conversation to see what not to do! (If  I see Random older mustachioed man at Foodtown again. I'm hiding until he goes through the checkout!)

Also please find attached some canning jar information (good to know I'm not alone in the world)

http://www.keeperofthehome.org/2012/04/31-ways-to-use-a-mason-jar-in-your-kitchen.html

The thing about uncertainty...

The thing about uncertainty is that it's so darn... uncertain.

There comes a time in your life that you have to just accept it. I have a birthday coming up in a few weeks. I won't say how old... I don't even want to admit it to myself... but I guess I thought that my life would be very different to what it is now. I actually hadn't thought much past thirty. That was sort of the cut off point of how far I could imagine as a child or teenager. I did have some idea about what I wanted my old age to be like but the bit in between was a big blank.

I'm at the bit in between now. There are a lot of things that I wish I could go back in time and tell myself. One of them would be that doing the 'right' thing doesn't always get the right results. That there's no such thing as a 'real job'. That I shouldn't really have been panicking about how little I had achieved with my life when I was 25. If I had spent less time panicking I would probably have achieved a lot more! I would tell myself that (in the famous words of Lenny Kravitz) 'it ain't over 'til it's over' and it's never over so there's always hope.

When I first discovered the horrifying truth that there are no happy endings and that nothing external will solve your problems or make you happy for longer than 15 minutes I was FUCKING depressed by it. As I write it down it still seems really depressing but I think as have I started to accept it I'm kind of finding it exciting like nothing lasts but there's always an awesome new adventure on the way so love what you have now and embrace what happens next.
( this is when I'm not hiding in my room, watching back episodes of Justified (I love you Timothy Olyphant!), eating sour lollies and refusing to come out because it all just seems too hard).

I can't go back in time though so I began to wonder - what would future me say to current me... eat less saturated fat would probably be one thing. Take risks while you can still walk up a hill unaided - this makes me sound like an old lady but we all think 'wow I'm 37 now my life is practically over why bother' - it's ridiculous - I blame the media and anti-ageing creams... a recent Vogue issue had 'hot' creative talent and then next to it in brackets (under 45) is 45 the cut off age for talent? WTF does that give our youth to look forward to?

Future me (with her blue rinse and hearing aid sitting in her rocking chair) would say 'looking good young lady - go ahead and wear those tight pants' (probably what I would say to deeply insecure younger me with her fresh skin and perky bottom)

I remember my grandmother (my father's mom) giving me advice when I was about 5 or 6 years old, she said 'wear lots of make-up and flirt with boys'. I only just got it. I think that's what my older self would say to me too. Not be a 'ho' (if there is such a thing and it's not just a sexist construct to disempower women and so on) but get out there and enjoy your life and feel good about your self and appreciate what you have while you have it and look forward to what's coming next.

So yeah it's not amusing or anecdotal but it's what I'm thinking about at the moment.

p.s. the weta came back... I think it's stalking my flatmate... . He'll be washing the dishes and suddenly look up and the weta will just be sitting there... watching him...

Sometimes it likes to mess with him by hiding inside handles of appliances that he needs to use. He reaches over to open the dishwasher and SURPRISE it's our friend, the weta. It's almost Hitchcockian.