Verbal Diarrhoea

The daily journey to work should have taken me no longer than ten minutes. But I’d left the house late and now I found myself sitting in traffic.

Sitting there, hands clenching the steering wheel, lips chapped and attempting to sing along to The Postal Service, I noticed her running by. And instantly I hated her. I hated her and everything she represented. I hated her freedom. I hated the fact that it was nearly 8 in the morning and she wasn’t rushing off to an office with fluorescent lighting. Her fingers would not be gliding effortlessly across a keyboard, in an effort to update the latest database. I hated the fact that she had the luxury of spending her mornings exercising, her legs pounding away rhythmically. I imagined experiencing the exertion of my lungs, the cold air on my face and I hated her. I hated her pert ass and blonde ponytail swinging to and fro.

And as sat there thinking up a list of imaginary wrongs incurred by the young woman, I had what others would refer to as an “epiphany”. I realized that a few months ago my opinion of the woman would have been different. I would have looked at her in complete and utter awe. I would have admired her willpower. The discipline that it took to wake up at the crack of dawn and run anything further than a block, was beyond my comprehension. And this feeling of awe would soon be followed by one of dejection. I’d never be capable of any of this.

And now … Now all those things I’ve admired in other runners; all those things that I always I assumed I was incapable of doing, are easy. I’ve finally reached a place where I can run 8km comfortably. I’ve finally reached a place where running is actually enjoyable. I’ve finally reached the point where I can bite down and tell myself, “You’re not done yet. Dig deep. Find your inner strength.”

And as this realization hit me, I couldn’t help but smile.

I was walking on Muizenberg beach when this guy attempted to sell me the most adorable puppy ever. Don’t you just want to take it home and heap hordes of hugs/attention on this little thing? 

Soccer fever in Cape Town. I love how proudly South African everyone is at the moment.

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A recent conversation with my sweet/racist grandmother (my mom’s mom)

Grandmother: You’re a project manageress now?

Me: Yes …

Grandmother: So you’re bringing home R10 000 a month?

Me: Okay …

Grandmother: What are you doing with the money? I hope you’re not buying more clothes. You have enough. I’ve seen your cupboard. You need to save it. One day you’ll get married and you’ll need to buy a house. You don’t have a boyfriend, hey?

Me: No …

Grandmother: Try to bring home a white guy. Don’t bring home a [insert derogatory term for black person and no, the word isn’t nigger]. Or an Indian.

My dear grandmother then pronounces my surname with great disdain.

Grandmother: Your grandfather, your dad’s dad, was Indian.

I told Dizzy* this story and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Dizzy*: If you ever manage to have some “off-white” kids your grandmother will be all, “These are my great grandkids with the straight hair”.

And in today’s news – controversial toilets (now that’s something you don’t hear every day). City authorities have “swooped down” on Makhaza, Khayelitsha and dismantled 65 of the corrugated iron structures they refer to as toilets.  The result is that angry residents are now throwing stones at passing cars.

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Oh yes, did I mention that my uncle (who’s 54) and his wife (she’s at least 15 years younger than my uncle) are planning on climbing Mount Everest next year. These are the very same people who climbed Kilimanjaro with me.

Morning

I’m seriously busy at the moment and don’t really have time to entertain you. I would however like to share THIS with you. Desert Demon looks at the Stoning of Soraya M, a film that debutted at the Toronto Film Festival. The film was banned in Iran due to “its implied criticism of the Irani Judicial System and viewers elsewhere were warned of its graphic depiction of stoning. Film critics said that not since The Passion of the Christ had there been such an explicit scene of execution.”

To read up more on Desert Demons thoughts on the movie and Islamic laws, click on THIS LINK.

Cheers

Guess what … This blog is officially one year old! Woohoo! I can’t believe I’ve stuck with something for this long.

Unfortunately I have been too busy working on my thesis, preparing for GIS training and watching Heroes and Dexter to prepare something hilarious.

BTW I’m in love with Sylar from Dexter. If you’ve watched season 3 epsiode 9 you’ll realise why. The guy’s like a nice person.