Rainbows, Mealworms and a Happy Kat

I found myself searching. I was searching for new smells, new tastes and new experiences. I was looking for somewhere with brighter colours, bigger smiles and somewhere that would set alight my imagination and leave me in utter awe of our world, and Cape Town in particular.

And I found it.

I spent today at the Good Food and Wine show at the CTICC in Cape Town. Year after year I have heard about how spectacular it is and wished beyond all wishing that one day I would attend it with someone who is as passionate about different and new flavours as I am and this year I finally managed to attend with the perfect partner in crime; my mum.

It was a last minute decision and we were really happy that we managed to get tickets because the alternative was being at home with my stepdad, trying desperately to not help or get in the way while he installed aluminium folding doors. God, that sounds even more boring now than it did this morning.

Anyway, mum and I were off on an adventure and were super excited to see what would await us. There was absolutely no way that we could possibly have been disappointed and I honestly have no idea where to begin to describe it but I can tell you this; today I ate the hugest oyster I have ever, ever seen:

I saw macaroons that could put even the best rainbow to shame:

And I ate a cracker with cream cheese, sweet chilli sauce… and MEALWORMS:

It was absolutely spectacular, and a better day could not have been had. Especially not if I had been trying to put in doors. 

Sink or Swim

Recently I have found that whenever I look back at the previous three years of my life, I look at only the bad things that have happened. Granted all the major events in my life have been rather depressing but still, I thought that for a change I would look at some of the more positive things that I have done.

I should point out that this sudden realisation stems back to a phone call I received yesterday. A couple months ago I was working as a divemaster on an open water course. For those of you who don’t know what that means; I was assisting people who were learning how to dive. This includes the entirely un-glamorous task of packing and unpacking dive gear that has invariably been peed in, making sure that the group stays together underwater and that nothing goes wrong, and because something always goes wrong, knowing how to fix it when it does.

This course was different however. I have worked on many courses with students; people who are my age, in the same mind-set as me and people who are more scared of failing than they are of putting their face underwater. This course was to be with adults though. Now this wasn’t too intimidating. I can speak to adults quite easily and I have a strong belief in respecting my elders that was drilled into me by many years of education at a private, Christian boarding school.

The course was going just fine until we got everyone into the swimming pool for the first session. The minute their faces went into the water chaos ensued and it no longer mattered how old they were, all that mattered was making sure that everyone got to the bottom safely. There were some people at the bottom whilst others tried their best to get down and still others who were panicking at the surface.

This is how I got to know Mari. She was just one of those women who, despite the fact that she was petrified, tried again and again to get down and she did eventually and now has a qualification to prove it. It is this quality that I admired in her.

Anyway, yesterday she phoned me to find out when she could collect her qualification. Usually these sorts of phone calls involve very little personality and a lot of to-the-point questions followed by the beep from the hang-up. Mari asked me how I was, told me she was going diving soon, asked me how the diving was going and was just generally interested in my life.

I realised once again that she has many qualities that I truly admire, but her ability to continue trying even when she thought for sure that she was drowning is the quality that has stuck with me. It is the reason why this morning when I woke up I thought about the fact that I have recently become both a SCUBA and First Aid instructor, I have a dive job at the Maties Underwater club, I am in my final year of a BSc degree, I write for the University Newspaper and I am a regular supporter of several charities and donate blood. And best of all, I have this blog.

These are all things which make me incredibly happy. These are things which make me realize that I can swim even though the last three years have tried to tie lead weights around my feet and drown me. And besides, I actually love being underwater. 

Goodbye Friend

I know that you don’t owe me anything. Hell, I even know that I have absolutely no right to be upset. We have only ever, and will only ever be friends and although you will probably never notice, or admit it to yourself, there is a part of me that loves you.

I didn’t do it on purpose. In fact, I tried as hard as I possibly could to not let it happen. I guess I’ve known for a while now that while a part of my heart belongs to you, a part of yours has always and will always belong to her.

And rightfully so. She is beautiful, and probably the only person I know who is nearly as magnificent as you. She has the intelligence and the upbringing and the lifestyle that completely compliments yours. In comparison to her… actually I couldn’t bring myself to compare myself to her. I could never compare to her.

Not in your eyes anyway.

I have wanted to tell you all of this for such a long time but I am far too scared. I am terrified of exposing myself to you, for fear of what you could do to my heart, for fear of what you would do to my heart.

But I will say it now, because I have finally realised that I could never just be friends with you. I can try as hard as I want, but I am always going to be disappointed when you cancel on me, I am always going to be saddened when I can’t see you, I am always going to feel lost when I am reminded that you don’t care for me the way that I care for you.

So this is goodbye. Because I had no other way to tell you. Telling you in person would just be terrifying, telling you when you have already left will mean that your new life will be tainted with bad memories, and watching you walk away from me would finally and truly kill me.

So here it is, my goodbye. I know it isn’t much, but it’s all that is left of my soul, and I am giving it to you.

Lyrics and Memories

To many people music is just noise. Hell, my own sister, can listen to a song and not be able to tell you what instruments were played, or whether there were any cool musical flares like louds and softs, or voice overs, or a great crescendo followed by a dramatic drop. Well, basically she is musically illiterate.

But everyone, and I mean even my semi-tone deaf mom, can hear a song’s lyrics. The words are the important part to most people, and the thing that makes a song make or break. It’s the difference between interesting or a jumbled noise.

Lyrics are cool and remind us of a moment in our lives or they speak to our deepest fears and regrets or they just make us feel good. Some lyrics can leave us in tears, or have us rolling around on the floor laughing or get two best friends singing at the top of their lungs in a car. Lyrics, and music, are a really important aspect of most of our lives.

The question now, is what is your favourite? What is that one song for you?

Is it some super cheesy Afrikaans sokkie song like Kurt Daren’s Papsopwinterwaternat? Or is it a beautiful love song from a musical like Phantom of the Opera? Maybe it’s from a band that will be remembered forever like Queen or maybe it’s from some 60’s band that everyone has already forgotten about. Maybe it’s a parody by some random that a friend sent to you on Facebook or a cover by a guy who is now a YouTube celeb.

It actually doesn’t really matter what it is, chances are you love the song because it reminds you of something; something amazing, or special, or happy. It reminds you of a time in your life when you were young, single and stupid. Or it reminds you of your crazy best friend singing along to Greenday in her knickers while you serenade your mirror using a hairbrush as a microphone.

The point is that lyrics can put us in a memory and make us incredibly happy.

I just seriously pity you if your happiest memory involves Kurt Darren and a song about being wet. 

Ostrich Gone Wild

It has recently been brought to my attention that I blog a lot more often during exam season. This is probably due to the fact that I am looking for any and all reasons to procrastinate and my desperate need to avoid studying because let’s be honest, there is only so much a person wants to know about the role of microorganisms in sewage water treatment.

This is probably also the reason why during exam season the whole world seems to go psycho. It is not because everyone has suddenly gone a bit loopy but rather because I suddenly start paying attention to news updates and my Twitter feed.

In the last week I have heard about how some semi-famous chick beat up her super-famous sister’s boyfriend in an elevator. I have finally joined the rest of the world in the knowledge that Gareth Cliff is trying to attract all the new Hippie Vibes by doing ‘Un-Radio’. I have heard things about Oscar’s trial that couldn’t possibly have been interesting and never would have made the newspapers. And I have watched various funny videos of cats smoking cigarettes and people falling on their faces.

It has been pretty entertaining just watching the crazy world pass-by, while I sit at my desk with my super boring textbooks spread out in front of me as if I had some intention of actually reading them, but my absolute favourite crazy moment of the week came to my attention last night and this is the one thing that makes me think that, just maybe, exam season makes the world go completely psycho.

Last night my stepdad asked me to find an article online based on a headline he had seen while driving home from work. The headline had something to do with a woman whose car had been written off by an ostrich on the west coast somewhere. When I eventually found the article in Die Burger it turned out that some woman’s car had been attacked and completely ruined by a female ostrich. The woman had been unable to speak for three days following the incident.

It was a pretty funny story but rather a let-down seeing as the entire story was in the headline and you didn’t go on to read that this ostrich had been genetically engineered to have genes from an elephant that had suddenly made it aggressive. No, it was just a female ostrich taking her frustrations out on a Merc because it was that time of the month.

My Google search for news related articles about ostriches yielded something far, far funnier. It seems that yesterday in Beijing there was a police chase which resulted in blocked off roads, major traffic and cordoned off areas due to the fact that an ostrich had decided to escape and was running around causing chaos.

Now imagine, if you will, that you are driving down the road and you’re wondering why the hell the traffic is so bad when suddenly out of nowhere in the middle of a city an ostrich come running straight at you!

You can’t help but wonder if the world has gone mad.

This is even worse when you imagine yourself to be the telephone operator for the Beijing police.

Operator: “Hello, what is your emergency?”

Some super hyper, anxious, Chinese guy: “I have just had a car accident… with an ostrich… in Beijing…”

Who makes that call? And what do you do when you get that call? And what do you do when your life-long dream is to catch criminals and instead you find yourself chasing down a crazy ostrich in the middle of Beijing?

I’m telling you, the world has gone mad, but thank goodness it has because otherwise I would have nothing to write about and I would have to be studying instead of watching a crazy ostrich on YouTube. 

Mr Road Runner

Big Bum Cheeks

So after my last blog article, in which I told you all that I was busy getting sick and that I had to have a vitamin B shot this morning, I got a text from a friend of mine. Cute, right? It is probably a message to say that he hopes I feel better soon or offering to make me chicken noodle soup.

WRONG

“Hehe, you got plenty of bum cheek for those shots.”

To say that I am offended would be a major understatement. The worst part was that I was soundly asleep when he sent the text so I only got it this morning. Trust me, being woken up to a reminder about your big, fat ass is not a good way to wake up.

So here I am, standing in front of my mirror twirling around while trying to catch my tail just so that I can see if the problem is really that bad. So far I have only managed to make myself dizzy and realized that stubbing my toe on the bottom of my bed while twirling around at a billion miles per hour is not only painful but results in blood loss.

The problem is that I have been on a diet for pretty much the whole year and whilst it was initially very effective, it has now come to a rather depressing standstill in which I am not just not losing weight but I think I may be gaining weight. And all this after a day of shopping with my mom in which I had to put at least three items back on the shelf because my damn ass was too big.

So, what is the solution? Well, I thought about going to gym this morning but I am now way too self-conscious to put on gym tights and way too depressed to be seen in public so instead I am going to devour an entire box of Ultramel custard and feel sorry for myself. 

Donkey Flu and Excuses

So after an amazing morning of shopping with my mom, followed by coffee with my sister and my mom, I decided I would come home, take a quick nap and then finally get back into studying. Exams start on Tuesday and I fear that if I don’t pass this time Stellenbosch might actually finally decide that it is sick and tired of me and kick me out.

It is therefore imperative that I start studying at some point seeing as this week has been one that contained such procrastination that I found myself actually transposing music last night.

But as I lay there in my bed, my eyes slowly opening to the scary big bad world, I immediately knew that something was wrong. I could feel that slow sinus headache creeping up on me and the few sneezes from earlier had turned to full on sinusitis. I am getting sick.

To be honest I am not sure why I am surprised. At the end of every semester, exams creep up on me and a week before they are due to start I hit panic stations. I then spend the next week looking for excuses to not study while my sub-conscious stresses out and kills my immune system. I then spend the next three weeks of exams, and half of my holiday, man down with some freaky flu that’s named after some animal.

I have decided that I am going to do things a little different this year though. I have just been to the shops and bought MedLemon, flu tabs, orange juice and Panados. I am going to annihilate those little creepy-crawlies that are busy taking over my body and then tomorrow morning I am going to get over my fear of needles and my pride and let a nurse stick a whole bunch of vitamin B into my bum cheek.  

I am going to make sure that this stupid flu doesn’t ruin my exams and half my holidays. And just in case things get scary, I have bought sour worms and custard, because let’s be honest, you won’t care about your stupid diet when you die from donkey flu.

The only problem is that now I need to find a new excuse to tell my parents when they ask me why I have failed genetics… again! 

The Charlie Crises

It was Sunday Afternoon and another peaceful family weekend in Gordon’s Bay was coming to a close. It was Mother’s Day weekend and my aunt and uncle had travelled down from Plettenberg Bay to come visit. It had been a great weekend and I was sad that it was coming to an end but busy planning the following week in my mind.

It was then that my brother walked in. Now usually towards the end of the weekend my brother will come in for a last minute snuggle before I have to say goodbye, but this time was different. He looked devastated and when I asked him what was wrong he just burst into tears.

Now, I am officially the most over-protective older sister that a 12 year old boy could ever have and when my little brother is sad it literally breaks my heart. I went into panic mode immediately, and was busy deciding how I was going to kill the girl who had broken my little boy’s heart when he turned to me and said, “Charlie’s gone. She’s missing.”

Charlie is our dog. She’s a 6 year old boerboel and probably the most beautiful dog in the world (except when she slobbers like a boerboel). She is also very stupid and I could see immediately why he was so worried about her.

Well after half an hour of running around Gordon’s Bay like madman in Minnie Mouse tights and flirting with the paramedics in the hopes of getting some information about Charlie (no ulterior motives, promise) I eventually found a garage attendant who knew where she was. Well, actually he knew where a “big beige scary dog” was but I assumed he meant Charlie seeing as she kind of matches the description.

According to the parking attendant, Charlie was at an animal hospital called Animals. Now there are two animal hospitals in Gordon’s Bay, neither of which is open on a Sunday and neither of which is called Animals. So after looking for Animals for another good 10 minutes we eventually drove passed a sign that said Gordon’s Bay Animal Welfare Shelter.

And she was there.

And she was safe.

And she wasn't hurt.

My heart literally soared and I thought I was going to pass out I was so relieved.

Anyway, Charlie is now home safe and I could swear that she actually enjoyed her little adventure and all the attention she got because of it and it wouldn’t entirely surprise me if she made a habit out of it. The other good news is that my heart eventually started beating at its normal rhythm again and I didn’t have to kill the little girl who my brother has fallen in love with. Just as well because she studies karate and could probably kick my ass. 

Stupid Humans

We do some pretty stupid things.

And I don’t mean ‘we’ as in you and I. No, I mean ‘we’, the royal we, the all-encompassing we that refers to you and me and every other human being on this planet.  The ‘we’ that refers to all us idiots who hurt the ones that we love, and leave chaos in our wake.  The ‘we’ that makes us believe that we are better than everybody else and that makes us think that we need only serve ourselves. The ‘we’ that got us into this mess in the first place.

Yes, we humans do some pretty stupid things. And if 'we' are what represents ‘intelligent life’ then I fear for the sake of all other forms of life.

Actually, I think life would be easier if I was a microorganism with a 20 min doubling time and imminent senescence; a life where my only purpose would be to create copies of myself. It would be a simple life. I would have flagella that moved me in twirls and runs until I was safely ensconced in a place with a high concentration of nutrients, I wouldn’t need a partner to replicate and I would die or form a biofilm way before I even had time to get lonely.

Unfortunately, I am a human and therefore have to live a life in which I crave to put some meaning, or make sense of, because the thought of dying without making an impression on this world terrifies me. I make decisions based on what I think would be viewed as acceptable to my peers and am so terrified of messing up that I couldn’t ever possibly be brave enough to take the step that would make me brilliant.

I am a human and I do some pretty damn stupid things.

And because the latest fashion is to live life with no regrets and to make sure that everyone sees me living my life with no regrets I will pretend like I have never done anything stupid, or anything that I may regret, and I’ll be sure to hashtag myself on social media as living the ultimate life.

But the truth is this; life is messy, it hurts like hell sometimes and some nights you sit at home, lonely as hell, watching some soppy chick flick that makes you want to cry your eyes out and binge eat chocolate. And that is okay, because don’t worry, we’re all doing it.

So no, my life is not perfect and I have done some pretty stupid things. Actually I am busy going through some pretty crappy stuff at the moment. But the important thing is that this too will pass and then I’ll go back to being a normal student whose life goal is to reproduce and find high concentrations of alcohol. And how different is that from a bacterium anyway?