Permits 4 Africa

It was once again time to renew my work permit, so 10 of us trudged off to the Department of "Sit on your butt and wait Forever" and started serving our sentence.

I found myself bored after approximately 15 minutes and after another hour and a half I was photographing everything in my line of fire. I then started a game of chicken which basically involves sitting in a non-aircon room with 20 heavy breathing, hot irritated people and launching methane bombs, some stealth and others that murmered like far off thunder. I have noticed that if you pretend to be playing on your phone, keep a neutral expression and don't look up, the members of a now fully operational gas chamber have very little chance of finding the culprit.

Butt after an hour of "Spot the Bomber" I was in need of a new challenge and we were en route to the Police Station, a km walk in 32'C weather, I made friends with a lady and her friend who opened her umbrella to shield herself from the sun, I simply ducked my head under the umbrella and began chatting to her as she was a newly found relative, she was shy, but her friend found it amusing and after a brief chat we parted ways.

Next we met a Chinese welder who had just returned from Moscow.
From his broken English we managed to derive the following information;

• Russia was very cold
• The prostitutes were very expensive 
• Vodka was an essential partner in fighting off the cold
• The police were very militant and demanded to see your papers all the time.
• He had been locked up more than one
• Fucki Fucki was possible if you were not caught and bribed by the police and a lady was having a slow night

He spoke with a twinkle in his slits and a smile on his lips, he also laughed at all of us as we tried to communicate with him, a 41 year old man who still looked 30.

I was then afforded the pleasure of sharing my bench with an Indian lady, I enquired whether she sat next to me because I was handsome and irresistible to women, she giggled and blushed and looked away. My colleagues shook their heads as if they felt sorry for this poor woman.

I asked if I could have my photo taken with her and she politely declined, even when I tried to convince her that I was in fact an exotic dancer by trade and  "Glitter" was my stage name. She  would still not succumb to my request for a photograph. She worked with her husband for a company that manufactured all the Student Prince school shoes that were exported to South Africa, had 2 children a son 13 and a daughter 9, she declined my offer to hold my hand while we spoke.

As I was called into the Department of "Smile and Shut Up" I was sure she was checking out my swaying bottom, but I would not put money on it.

Photo taken, permit issued and just when I felt that I had survived this 6 hour lapse in reality, we had to climb into a local taxi for a short trip, the creaking suspension, lack of windows that opened and grinding of metal on metal where brake pads should be reminded me of what the majority of commuters had to endure on a daily basis.

Africa is indeed a continent filled with colourful characters, friendly individuals and an adventure if you wish to step out of your safety net.

Be brave and live.

Nite All

Love Hurts

I wonder what caused women to begin the neverending and sometimes thankless task of pruning themselves and driving men crazy?

I mean manicures, pedicaures, botox and implants and make up that costs enough to feed a small town in outer Mongoli, and that excludes the fashion sense. Now now gentlemen, we are just as guilty and those that are not are more than likely in a long standing relationship or marriage and their partners have simply given up on them.

My journey into the Gentle Art of Beautification began when I first realised that there were creatures who lived amongst us that did not wrestle for an oblong leather ball and partake of such rituals as burping national anthems and lighting methane bursts. They were smaller, smelled different and hung around in gangs that either ignored or giggled at you. Thus began my first trip into my Dads wardrobe and I discovered the world of Old Spice and Blue Stratus, firmly believing that too much was better than too little, I could be smelled from a mile away.

My amazement was complete when I observed that not all the young ladies threw themselves at me and admired my aftershave ridden body, this I came to know as playing "Hard to Get".

But from humble beginnings I progressed to higher levels of pruning like a gaming junkie. Cut my toe nails and finger nails and didnt use them as toothpicks, had regular hair cuts and discovered shower gel.

Following my divorce, I had my first manicure and pedicure and enjoyed the relaxing pampering I received, lo and behold I found I was still straight and that these experiences had not turned me into a gay man instantly.

And then it started to get a little more intense. Nicole my daughter my 13 year old angel convinced me to shave my chest!!!!!! I did so without removing my nipples and for a week I was so itchy that I wanted to rip my shirt off and pound my naked chest like King Kong. That has now been forgotten and the hair returneth.

But was that enough?

No of course not.

I heard of the term "manscaping" where one basically trims the hair down under and provides a better, less primitive attraction for purposes of this blog. I decided to approach the area concerned with a beard trimmer and with the vigour of a puppy charging a porcupine.

I gasped, hesitated and at the first sight of blood dropped the Remington butchering device and crossed my legs. This action was supposed to remove the sudden stinging pain that came from cut treasures.
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!!

The bath that followed and the 2 days of anxious walking and carefull sitting was a rude reminder that some actions need to be left to professionals.
My now scarred and tender manscaped adventure has to end for now.

Nite All

Gypsy Anyone?

It is very easy to get caught up in the business of "Woe is me" and the world is out to get me, it is a scenariou of not being your fault or being within my ability to change it.
When I was down and hating the world, I battled to get out of bed, out of my flat and out to visit my friends. It was easier to hide away and wallow in the darkness of my soul and room.

There is certainly a time for this and it was a time to reflect, heal and re-assess what I expected and wanted from life. I also used this time to analise and disect family and friends in my mind and place them in the boxes I had created. I file with my mind and am thus able to open and explore when I wish and also bury and hide other chapters till I am strong enough to open them.

So what is the purpose of this blog?

I dont know yet, bear with me and I ramble on. Oh wow rambles, remember when we had Arts & Crafts Rambles, people dressed like hippies and use words like "organic" "cosmic" "earthy" "karma" and could all be used in a sentence to like totally numb my colon. I loved that environment, people worked with their hands and had a wandering community of friends, yes there were politics but how serious could it be with a cosmic organic karma and vegetarian crafter who made leather bags and shoes.

So you can either hide and drown in your life or else throw a little caution to the wind and maybe live a little. I am not saying sell everything and start knitting your own underwear while you hug strawberries and french beans. Maybe just re-evaluate where you are in your life, decide if it has been a worthy life and if you are ready for an adventure, start with a little one.

I left my room with the aid of some amazing friends and a Mom who spent ages on her knees praying for me. It has been fun, at times scary and with an amazing lady holding my hand, I am learning to love and be loved again.

Nite All

A New Beginning

A remark made by a very good friend (One that I had a massive crush on in High School hehe) and confirmed by others for a while made me realise that a new hat had to be worn by me.
It can become "comfortable" to live glancing over ones shoulder expecting the demons and ghosts of Memories Past to pop up and attempt to dominate and affect your future.

An example would be Christmas. Christmas to me became a tradition of family and friends, a large home-cooked meal and laughter followed by a doze (also known as a meditative relapse) on a couch and then a cleaning up operation of note. It was a time where no cost was spared and credit cards, cash and accounts were pillaged and plundered the way a puppy would devour your favourite slipper. There were traditions that included the erection of the tree, dusty boxes weighing more than Aunt Eva's bottom brought  down and unveiled. Not Aunt Eva's bottom but the boxes Mark.
Lights, millions of wooden characters and scratching my dogs head as she watched all of this with the excitement of observing a snail waiting for its Garmin to acquire satellites.
It was a lovely Hallmark moment and I loved it.

This will be my third Christmas since the divorce and my girls and I are still attempting to find our groove, there is no tree, there is no dog and Aunt Eva and her bottom and bosom are long forgotten. I am peace with the new Ted and we are getting along pretty damn well when he isnt trying to go cold turkey and bulldoze his way through time and space.

So it is with a smile that salute and thank Dr Ted's Divorce Adventure and welcome Dr Ted's Life Adventure.

Lights, camera, action and please no white speedos, after all parental guidance is advised for sensitive stomachs.

Bless you all for your comments, thoughts and encouragement. All are appreciated and accepted with an open mind.

Nite All

The Positive Art of Divorce

It sometimes takes waking up at 02h15 in the morning to see the flip side of the coin, life is a little strange that way.

I have been battling with a particularly stubborn case of depression in the last 10 days and have had to drag myself out of bed in the morning.
It was as if I had lost my way and desolation and despair had clouded my thoughts and swallowed my joy.
Then it hit me in the face like a cold fish, there were many positive aspects to my current situation.

I could make myself coffee and have rusks in bed anytime without the obligatory "what the hell are you doing sweetie, do you know what time it is"?
Strolling around the mansion naked in winter was permissible and required no explanation or justification.
All sides of the bed were my side and the only person who stole the duvet from me was well, me.
The toilet seat is always in the correct position.
The vegetable drawer in the fridge was the best place for beer and tonic water, this does make me smile whenever I open the fridge door.

It may all seem a little selfish and perhaps it is, but there is a definte sense of cavaliership about it all. I am tempted to enter my abode with sword in hand and a gleam in my eye daring the shadows to attack me.
To date they have refrained and thus my swordmanship and authority remains unchallenged.

It is now 03h15 and sleep beckons like a mermaid seductively luring me into her loving arms.

Nite all.

The Curry Bites Back

I stopped en route home at a curry place at Edenglen near Woolworths and bought a vegetarian bean and potato curry, because I wasn't going to cook and hadn't eaten today besides my cereal. I decided to take my meds and vitamin B and have the curry. The first 4 mouthfulls were stunning but the 5th tasted funny and too herby for me so I took it out of my mouth and it was a dead bug twice the size of an adults thumb nail.

It was obviously no longer a vegetarian meal and the additional protein with legs or tentacles left a somewhat bitter, acidy taste in my mouth. Had I perhaps consumed one of the owners pets or were they a delicacy flown in from a broom cupboard and casually ignored as they fell asleep in my curry.

I am saddened my meal had transformed itself to a National Geographic Special without my written consent and as such I am forced to pay them a visit tomorrow to discuss this menial legality.

Good Nite Friends

Fight or Flee

Ever wondered what the hell you are doing?
Where am I heading and what am I getting myself into?
Why me, why not someone else and why now?

Life has an intriguing way of opening doors ever so slightly and letting just enough light through for us to see it. What we do is one of two things, one, we ignore it and tell ourselves it wasn't ever there. Or two, we take a deep breathe and head towards it irrespective of the consequences.

This determines the way we face life, love and heartache. We can confront it or ignore it and hope it simply fades away and nobody notices. In the past while I have had to confront many issues I would simply have laughed off before. I have had to look myself. And examine the naked man before me, no mean task as that much nudity should not be exposed all at once.

I didn't like what I saw and decided that I could learn from my mistakes and move ahead or wallow in self pity. I bathed in self pity for some time and it took a couple of really hard kicks to the butt to awaken me and begin the motion forward. It is definitely harder to move a resting object that to change the direction of one already in motion.

So I must move ahead and steer my ship into stormy waters and see what challenges await me.

Adventure? Sadness? Failure? Love? Purpose?

Time will tell.

Join me as my journeys heads off into the distant yonder.

Good nite.

30 May Sunday

I am again alone in my flat settling down after the whirlwind chaos of my girls Simon and Nicole for the past 3 nights, an adventure in itself with hints of crumbs and other clinging franctically to the carpet,

The girls have gone back home and I must re-adjust to 2 weeks without them. So in a nutshell my newly portable manageable pop in family has popped out for 2 weeks and so my life goes. I have been officially divorced 5 and a half months and been out of the family home 8 months.

Since then I have moved 4 times and am now settled in a lovely 1 bedroom apartment with a large lounge, bathroom and a large kitchen.

My curtains are a gift as is my too short net curtaining!

My eyes grow weary as my medication kicks in, so it shall be farewell till once more i am lured to impart my experiences. Good Night and happy dreams