i hate emotional men

Everybody goes through this one thing when they're young and stupid: you sit around with your friends and make this list of the things that you want in a guy...

He must have nice hair, pretty eyes, acne-free skin, a sense of humour, he must be sensitive, he must be rich,  he must be clever...and the list goes on and on with a whole lotta other shallow things.

I know I did it.

One thing I totally still agree on now though is sensitivity (oh, and humour also...so that makes it two things).

But, what is sensitivity in a guy?

Well, for me, basically, it's just being tolerant of the quirks of the girl he loves and being there for her (without judgement or comment) during her not-so-finest moments...

NOT sending her soppy messages 20 million times a day. NOT invading my space with too much pda.

And especially NOT ones who act all wounded and crap when you don't take notice of them, when they're not entitled to nor warrant your attention at all. Those type of guys are EMOTIONAL, not sensitive.

And I HATE emotional men.

flattery will get you nowhere with me

So I think whoever reads the title of this post will go, "Hmm...is she talking about guys again?".
If you have indeed thought or said that out loud, I applaud you for getting to know me so well in such a short time, but I also laugh as it is not really guys that inspired today's ravings.

My school has about 34 or so members of teaching staff. One of them is a lady of 56 who has been teaching for about 37 years. She has somewhat of a strange demeanor, but I won't go into that because I didn't start this blog to badmouth people.
One thing about her that annoys me about her though is that she over flatters people. I don't know if you know what I mean so I will explain....whenever I do something for her (that falls part of my job description) she will say things like, "You're a star!" or something like that, that makes me feel like she treats me as if I'm one of her Grade 4 learners.

I will accept appreciation and gratitude for any good thing that I do...whether it be my job or something else.
A simple 'thank you' goes a very long way with me. But flattery is something that makes me really uncomfortable. I never know how to respond to it and when flattery is given with the intention of getting something out of me, I get mad as hell.

Flattery, for me, is the tactic of a dishonest person...and for precisely this reason, I hate it when guys use it too..

belief in fairies and leprechauns, but not God (wth?!)

Today, while I was reading the paper, I came across an article about the actress Helen Mirren.
I've always liked her as an actress...she can transition between drama and comedy as effortlessly as putting on and taking off a satin robe.

But, after reading this article, I've come to the conclusion that she is not as clever as her posh accent may suggest. The article alleges (and I use this word because journalists today are more untrustworthy than criminals...being prone to bending the truth a bit and quoting people out of context) that Ms. Mirren believes in fairies and leprechauns, but not in God.
WTH???
And if this be true, who in their right mind would make a statement like that??

back to reality

Today was the first day of the third term. I was expecting a bit of a humdinger of a day...and a few things were slightly amiss when I got to school. The outside phone cables were stolen...again...and so now we're unable to make calls or use the internet. Makes things slightly more challenging, especially since we do our banking over the internet, but in actual fact, the office is super quiet because there isn't this constant nagging ringing.
The educators also left me alone (only one of them had some work for me).

So instead of chaos, I had the most stress free day :))

my favourite literary couples

Reading is a favourite pastime of mine. I love movies, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve come to realise that the movies I like best are the ones that bring my favourite pieces of literature to life.

And contrary to general opinion, a good book is wayyyy better than a good movie – in my opinion, when you read a truly brilliant piece of writing, the words come alive in your imagination, as if you were watching a movie in your head.

I only discovered the joys of reading during my final year at high school – I think the reason for that is because the books that are chosen for us to study are really boring, depressing ones, generally with a concurrent theme from Grade 9 right up to Matric. It’s been 12 years hence and I am now even more in love with books than I was then.

Throughout my journey through the world of literature, I have met and fallen in love with numerous characters. The ones I love best, though, are the unusual couples found in the stories. The following (in no particular order) are my favourites...

Alexandra and Jordan Townsende – The first books I was introduced to were romance novels...this couple is from Something Wonderful, by Judith McNaught.

Marianne Dashwood and Colonel Charles Brandon – Even though they are fictitious characters, they are the affirmation that age is nothing but a number.

Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy – Yes, that is Mr. Darcy’s name. The most famous couple in the English language. I love them because they started off by rubbing each other up the wrong way.

Jane Eyre and Edward Fairfax Rochester – Quite possibly my favourite couple of all. Their love is based on an admiration, love and appreciation for each other’s character, rather than on a physical attraction.

Edward Cullen and Bella Swan – These two take devotion to a whole new level. But everyone is allowed an unrealistic dream, and I suppose this relationship is mine.

Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen – Initially, I watched Twilight before I even knew about the books, and I have to say, I was completely bonkers for Edward for a while. But when I read the books, in particular, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn and Midnight Sun, this couple stood out for me. Their relationship is exactly what I would want from one – a guy, who is affectionate only when he is with me, who would want to kill the last person who would even think of harming me, but at the same time acknowledges that I can and will fight my own battles, a guy who lets me have my own life and is happy to pursue his own interests while I pursue mine. A guy, who loves me, even though I may be quirky as hell. Ooh, and let’s not forget, that he was an army general before he became one of the undead – and I love a man in uniform.

Esme and Carlisle Cullen – I just love them...and their story.

Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth – once again, an example of how a beautiful character has the ability to capture someone’s interest more than beautiful face.

These are my favourites. And I’m sure I will meet many more interesting couples on my literary journeys.

view from my balcony

So, I live in Cape Town. Until last December, I had been living in a little suburb called Surrey Estate...not of much consequence but a lovely area nonetheless, and I was very sad to leave it to come and live here. I don't particularly like this part of Cape Town, for many reasons which will depress the hell out of me should I go into it all now, but it does have a spectacular view.

random thoughts

I have quite a lot on my mind today.

1.      Dreams.

Some people say that dreams are suppressed desires. Others say that dreams are warnings and reminders from God. My eldest brother (who is kind of a genius) says that we shouldn’t really dwell on the things that we dream.

In my case, I tend to agree with my brother, because if I were to dwell on the dreams that I have, it would serve no purpose other than to confirm that I need to be institutionalized.

I have had some weird dreams in my lifetime. Once, I dreamt that I was being chased by a werewolf Michael Jackson (this too after I saw the Thriller video...to this day, that song and video creeps me out).

But I have been dreaming again of my fantasy guy. Dreaming of Jackson Rathbone. And when I wake up from these dreams, I think to myself, “Is it normal for 28 year olds to be dreaming of celebrities?”

2.      Language

Two days ago I went to meet a friend at a mall. We haven’t seen each other for a while, and I really needed to get out of the house and do something fun. In all honesty, I would have been very happy to just spend the afternoon eating and talking to her. She is someone, probably these days the only one, with whom I can let my guard down completely, and just be myself, without being afraid of offending her, or censure from her. But she suggested that we go see a movie, and we ended up going to watch the latest film adaptation of Jane Eyre.

I was so happy we decided to watch that. Not only did the movie remain true to the literature, the acting was absolutely brilliant and the person portraying Mr. Rochester was just (for me at least) too divine. I’m quite in love with Michael Fassbender.

Watching it made me think of this time (about 2 years ago) where all I wanted to read were classic romance novels. I read all of Jane Austen’s novels, I read Jane Eyre (which I absolutely loved, despite the fact that it drags a bit at the beginning), I even read Wuthering Heights (which I will never read again, as long as I live – I think Emily Bronte might have had serious emotional and psychological problems, to have written such a depressing book).

Two things drew me to this genre of literature – firstly, they are romances, and I love romance novels. But more than that, it is the way people used to talk in that era. If I listen to people talk today...it actually upsets me, the way people have massacred English.

But in those novels...wow.

My current favourite quote (from Jane Eyre) is by Mr. Rochester, trying to make Jane aware of his feelings for her, in quite a clever, indirect way...

“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you – especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.”

Oh, I am quite in love with this quote and this character. And quite in love with the way people spoke during that time.

sometimes its okay to be selfish

Wow. It’s been more than a week since I’ve posted (a damn long time for me to be silent).

But, I’ve had somewhat of a challenging week.

Weeks like the one I’ve just experienced makes me really miss the days where my biggest worry was whether my mom was going to make me a Swiss roll for my birthday.

I’m supposed to be on holiday, but I’ve been helping my dad out at work a lot. That is usually not a problem, but when you have to navigate crappy moods as well, it tends to tire one out a bit.

So, work during the day, and I’ve been drowning my own sorrows in chocolate, Hawaii 5-0 and movies (let me just come in here and say that I am seriously lusting after Steve McGarret, Danny Williams and Chin-ho Kelly).

Today was a bit better. I took a walk down to the CBD and browsed some shops, got a coffee and some delicious cinnamon doughnuts, and sat down outside for an hour or so with a magazine. No disturbances, no need to make small talk with anyone, just some quiet time with myself. I also think that the physical activity released some much needed endorphins and hopefully I’ll sleep a bit better tonight.


So, I've just logged on and checked on the updates of the 2 blogs that I follow.
One specific blogger and her specific blog entry has made me a little...well, upset actually.


I started my blog mainly through the inspiration of this particular person. And as I've said previously, my blog is not dedicated to anything specific. In fact, those of you who have read it will see that I kind of use it to vent about things and celebrate other things. But it has become a tool that I use to get things off my chest. A tool I gladly use for that purpose.


My blog may not inspire anyone, and it may help no one (although it is my fervent hope that through some of the things I say, others will be inspired or helped in some way).
But, it helps me.


And so, to this person, she knows who she is, I say: don't always do things with others in mind. It is good to do for others, and I will always encourage you to help where you can...
But let there be some things, that you do purely for yourself.

God will never test you beyond your capacity...but maybe I am close to mine

Today, while my sister and I were driving home, this question popped into my head...
How much more shit can I take before I eventually crack?

During my pursuit of my religious education, one thing that all of my lecturers always tried to instill in us was that God never puts us through trials that we cannot handle. It's this mantra that has helped me tremendously in dealing with my problems at home, at work, in my personal life.

Right now though, I feel like I am one altercation away from my breaking point.
I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough, nothing I do for people will be appreciated, everything I do for myself will be considered the very extent of selfishness and that people will use me, for the rest of my life, as their very own personal punching bag.