This is 40, is it?

It’s my 40th birthday on April 7. 40. Forty. Veertig jaar oud. And here I am still fucking around in the dark, playing house-house and Mother and Step Mother, not having a clue what I’m doing. I have come to the conclusion, that this is life, do we ever really know what we’re doing?

I had an expectation that things would get easier as I grew older. What a fucking let down the day you realize that it really doesn’t get any easier, the situation just changes and there are new challenges every day that Lord knows how you’re supposed to handle. I often joke and say “This is why I drink” but seriously, this is why I drink.

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Every day I wake up and I am convinced that from this day, I will be a better person. I will not swear any taxi drivers, I will take a couple of deep breaths and let them pass me by and wave sweetly and not let my already increased heart rate shoot up to 160 beats per minute. I tell myself that today I will not honk, or wave flailing hands at any young drivers that clearly has no idea that when the lights go off, all traffic lights should be treated as a 4-way stop. And trust me, this is South Africa, our lights are off more than they are on. I tell myself, and I truly believe myself every morning when I have my pep-talk about staying positive today, that I. Will. Not. Have. Any. Wine. Today.

I fail. Every day. But it’s the good intentions that count, right?

You know how there’s this common myth that says white alcohol doesn’t smell on your breath? Is it the same for white wine? Could I risk pouring myself a flask of Sauvignon Blanc in the mornings and sip this as if it is coffee whenever taking fourteen million breaths doesn’t bring my heart rate down and flipping off the old tannie in the 1965 Green Toyota Corolla (jammer Ouma) does nothing for my blood pressure? Is day-drinking a thing yet? Considering most of us worked from home and I am pretty sure the drinking (whenever we are allowed to buy alcohol I should add), commenced no later than 15:00?

Ryno told me I needed a hobby. I think he meant another hobby but something else to take my mind off the traffic and the cooking and the homework etc etc etc. I told him drinking wine is my hobby.

All jokes aside though, is it really the middle of March 2021 yet? But at least things are looking better than what they did on March 16th 2020. I will not say “it can’t get any worse than that” though… just now Uncle Cyril takes the wine away again and then I pity the fool that doesn’t know how a broken traffic light works.

André van Tonder

And then I saw your name somewhere and my heart broke all over again.

I don’t understand how you could have left without saying Goodbye? I’m heartbroken and I am so angry because actually, you tried to tell me so many times, and I didn’t hear you. How I wish I could have that last weekend over. I wish I checked in with you sooner. I wish I met your family and didn’t have to frantically search for you for months. I drove passed your house a gazillion times until finally, there was a strangers car in your driveway. I didn’t have the heart to stop and ask what happened because I knew. I knew you finally had enough and suddenly your words fell into place and it made sense.

You kept telling me to not get attached to you and I thought you meant our friendship wouldn’t last. I didn’t hear you and I am so angry at myself for not listening to your cry for help. I thought I was being a supportive and good friend but I failed you when you needed me the most.

I am so sorry my Friend. It has been a year since you decided that this world just wasn’t for you and not a day has passed, that I haven’t thought of you.

I wish I could have had one more chance to hug you, and just one more chance to tell you that I loved you and then maybe, maybe you would have been able to hang on for a little while longer.

It’s too late now, but here it is; I love you André, and I miss you dearly each and every day.

I want my refund for 2020

I’m having a ‘Why did I ever have a child’ day.

I know… what kind of mother am I? How can I think that kind of thing… worse yet! Admit it on the internet.

Well today I had a meltdown and broke down crying because I am failing at being a mother it seems. I lost my shit. Lost it. I didn’t go bat-shit-crazy. I lost my shit in such a way even the bats made a run for it. Aiden is writing another spelling test tomorrow and either my (nearly 8 year old) bunks school (on the odd occasion there is school to attend) or his teacher isn’t teaching. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I am not equipped to teach my child 150 words in an afternoon. He swears he has never seen those words in his life. I gave up. He is going to fail. Hence, I am failing as a mother

When the fuck did it become our jobs as parents, to teach them spelling, in English and Afrikaans, maths, reading writing, oral speeches, again IN ENGLISH AND AFRIKAANS?? I would just like to remind The Fucking Powers that Be, that I AM NOT A TEACHER!

There is a reason I am not a teacher. Because I can’t teach!! I am at my wits end. I don’t know how to deal with this or how to get my incredibly loving and sweet child through Gr 2. And oh yes this is all happening while the government has put strict rules in place regarding the purchase of alcohol.

I want to quit now. I want my refund on 2020. How do you end this game?? Can somebody tell me please?

Pandemic? What Pandemic?

I haven’t written in a while, but with today being Day 1 of lockdown level 3 (booze!! Gimme gimme gimme! I even dreamt I went into the shop to buy wine and even in my dream the shelves were empty by the time I got there.) Anyhoo, day 1 of level 3 and also, Day 1 of my new job! I am incredibly excited. Admittedly I freaked out and was so stressed when I heard that my previous company wouldn’t be extending my contract, and this amidst a world wide pandemic, but then this job came across my path and I haven’t felt this excited about a new job in years.

My boyfriend and I have also decided to move in together. Well actually I decided and he just goes along with it – let’s face it, it’s easier to simply submit than to try and fight it… so we found a really fantastic place and we are all moving in together on 1 August 2020. I have big dreams for this place… Vegetable gardens, big dogs… and maybe a baby… watch this space!

So on my agenda today is:

1). Buy booze (I bought 18 bottles online a week ago but not expecting those to arrive today, so someone, will have to brave the shops today.

2). Start a new job!

2020 may have been disastrous but it has also been a fun filled present with lots of exciting new goodies!

My most exciting new gift is definitely the Daughters I have gained… I love every moment of spending time with them and the saying “They keep me young” is so true… I feel 15 again! Thank God for hair dye as unfortunately feeling 15, doesn’t make it so and the grey is a dead give away that I am – not yet but almost, 40…

New daughter nr 1

Lockdown se moer nou

I am officially on the ‘End lockdown now’ bandwagon… I have to have my freedom back. Every day that goes by living in this Policed State is driving me closer to tumbling over the edge. I want to gym. I want to drink. Most of all I WANT TO WORK!! I want to choose. I am an almost 40 year old woman and Goddamnit if I want to freakin smoke (even though I quit over five years ago) then I want it to be my choice.

I, and I am sure millions of other SAFFAS as well, do not understand how plummeting the country into poverty, is the rational decision?? How can it possibly make sense to cause your people to die of hunger and/or very probable, suicide? We are more afraid of your Draconian decisions than we are of the Virus Mr President. You are causing us harm. You are killing us by letting us lose our jobs, losing our wits, and losing our minds! Are you not able to think that perhaps the Country would be more willing to adhere to the rules to avoid spreading the virus if you and your Government didn’t make it as hard as possible to adhere to them. I, as with many of my fellow South Africans find a decent workout more than essential to my mental health. I need to see my family, I need to hug my friends. I need a glass of wine damn you!

I am ready to start burning shit. I am ready to start a mob exercise session in the middle of my favourite shopping mall… I am ready to have said mob show up at their favourite nail salons or hair salons.

I am sick to my stomach worrying about the people that work at my house, what we call Peace jobs in this country. I have paid them what I could but I too am without a job at the end of the month and my nerves are shot.

I want to, No, I have to be able to go for interviews because I have a child to take care of. But driving to Joburg is against the law?! You don’t even have the decency to tell us what your plans are going forward. We are in the dark. And we are too scared to react because we will be thrown into prison. Violently. And then I see it… I read it and this Mr President is where the last bit of patience I was clinging onto, the last grain of compassion I had for the people that could possibly die from the virus buggered off and flew into the distant horizon; Nearly 20 000 prisoners, are being let go. Free. Over a 10 week period.

A TEN WEEK PERIOD?

So… the streets are being flooded with criminals that probably have nowhere to go… People who will not be fed. People that has less hope of income after this travesty ends than I do… Where will they turn for food? Or shelter? We already read how the homeless ‘escaped’ from the accommodations they were provided.

And even more worrying… over a TEN week period… TEN WEEKS. How much longer are you anticipating to keep us prisoners of your irrational government decisions??

I need out. I need out and my fellow South Africans need out.

Like Gareth Cliff said, you need to let your people go!

Can I come into the out now please

It’s day four million five hundred and seventy nine of lockdown… I think… I have lost count. I am officially on ‘seven more days left’ until the 16th… I am not going to even venture down a path of thinking we will be let back outside on the 17th… the odds do not seem to be in our favour right now.

It was also my birthday two days ago… But I am glad to be able to say, I had a really good day, lockdown and all. No presents though 😦 But considering I had some wine (had being the operative word here), and a really super sassy varkie cake and all my Lovelies around me, I actually felt, or feel, really blessed and privileged. I will need a do-over though as I feel I have to properly celebrate my last year in my thirties… I can almost not believe it, my last year in my thirties. But oh well… Forty is the New Thirty and this lockdown is doing my skin wonders, so whatever, the next decade can only be amazing (watch the Iliza Schlesinger skit on how girls plan their break-ups, amazing will get a whole new meaning https://youtu.be/nq8H6qSCjMw .

Sassy Piggy Cake

And all my Lovelies

It’s amazing what 14 days (and counting) just being at home can do for you. I must say, it is going much better than I initially anticipated it would go, but I figure it has a lot to do with preparing yourself mentally. I really do wish though that Uncle Cyril gave us a bit more time to do panic wine shopping… But that being said, I also feel that a few days sans vino isn’t necessarily a bad thing… my waist line certainly is grateful. I do miss the gym though… I can’t wait to get back onto the treadmill, and leg presses (I ended at 100kg leg press before this cluster fuck of a virus hit us).

Gym in isolation

That being said though, there is always, always a plan to be made… last week we did legs and I couldn’t sit down on the toilet without sounding like a 90 old year lady for two days.

Well that’s about it, being locked up with no taxis and no weirdo’s brightening our days doesn’t make for riveting conversation unfortunately…

So this is all for now folks, stay safe, stay fit and stay sane!

Boomgate ordeals

I lost my shit on Saturday at the Gautrain station.

And not your average ‘I want to see the manager’ lost your shit.

I went proper mental. Badshit, yelling, screaming and swearing crazy. Not my proudest moment. Clearly.

But imagine being on your way somewhere, and you realize you are going to be late. So you call ahead, and apologize and tell the person you are ‘running a few minutes late’. I think for most people, ‘a few minutes’ constitutes somewhere in the region of 8-10 minutes later.

Right – so I get off the train, swipe my bank card to get out (how innovative is our country?!? No more adding credit to a card that ’expires’ (don’t even get me started on that), after three weeks, No No – just tap your touchless bank card et voila! You can get to where you want via the Gautrain. And the best part – you can tap your bank card at the parking booms as well – so well done SA, Gautengers lives definitely made easier.

Or so you think…

So all ready running late, I jog to my car, and head for the boom… feeling rather anxious as I am at this stage definitely going to miss my 10 minute limit on arriving late. Dig out the same card I used to enter – please remember this same card allowed me access earlier this morning, and wouldn’t you know it, what does the boom gate display say? Blocked card. BLOCKED CARD!!! Blocked?? Blocked how, you let me in not 3 hours ago so let me the fuck out you stupid boom gate. So after tapping that card so many times that Michael Flatly would have felt put to shame, the guard comes sauntering towards me. Even before he says anything I start my story because remember, now my 10 minute late limit is so far gone not even Jesus can revive it, so my patience has not run out it has fucked off and is a mere glimmer on the horizon. Now for those of you who know me personally, you will know one of my most gravest pet pieves in life; Tardiness.

So I have just started telling my story to Mr Boom Gate Guard, when I am interrupted with a “Hallo”, and that blank stare, and then a “How are you”. (I left the question mark out after the ‘you’ on purpose…. nobody gives a fuck how anybody else is doing!

At this point I am ready to explode. I am punching the intercom button like a demented lunatic and all the while literally choking out the words “I am fine, how are you?” through gritted teeth. The lady at the other end of the intercom answers, and I retell my story hearing myself getting more and more worked up, but by the mere grace of God, I am not yet yelling. Until… until the lady at the other end of the intercom DISCONNECTS THE CALL!! Mr Boom Gate Guard is probably watching my face turn from annoyed white lady to full on crazy white bitch on the verge of totally losing all her shits.

The pressing of the intercom button commences and when she answers again, I lose all control as she repeatedly says “Hallo? Hallo?” So I scream… not yell, not talk louder, I scream into that intercom so loud I am sure the people on the train could hear me.

And then, the best is yet to come, she, very calmly, tells me, that I will have to return to the office as ‘they are experiencing slight difficulties with the parking section of using your credit card.” Now my friends, at this point, my soul has left my body and Satan has taken over and I was not in control of any of my actions. So Satan at this point screamed at the guard that he was about to ram his car through the boom gate if it didn’t open up immediately!

Satan swore Zuma, he swore Ramaphosa, He even swore Jan van Riebeeck and to my utter shame the poor innocent soul at the Boom Gate, also got it. That little Yaris of mine had no idea it could drive like a F1 race car as I sped back to the office to pay THE R15 parking fee. I shit you not… all of this, for a R15 parking fee.

I think I also ran faster than Caster Semenya that day but lo and behold eventually the parking was paid, and I legged it to my appointment, now a full on half an hour late.

So I understand this is a new initiative, and like I mentioned quite an innovative one, and glitches are to be expected and it may take a while to sort it out and run 100% smoothly. But where, where oh great Management of the Gautrain station, are the notices informing your commuters of the ‘slight issues you are experiencing’????

Anyway – I got to my appointment and luckily the therapist was so sweet and patient, and even made me a cappuccino as she probably noticed the crazy in my eyes…

So thank you Ricolene for saving my Saturday and giving me beautiful pedicured toes after my Boom Gate Ordeal.

It’s finally over… Goodbye and f… Farewell 2019!

Wow. What a year it has been.

What. A. Year. It. Has. Been.

Right now I am sitting on my Ouma’s stoep, on the south coast, with my feet up, sipping a glass of wine and listening to the frogs sing, and the waves crashing against the rocks. Tough life…

But the tranquility is making me think of this year, and how I came to be here today. Right now my worst worry is the fact that I acted like a true Valie yesterday, and got a bit sunburned… A year ago I was recked with stress, worrying about surviving the week and not having a clue how I would get Aiden and myself through another year.

Today, this is us:

I started a new job on the 1st of Dec. I met an amazing man… but most of all, I was walking on the beach today, in my bikini – a’ la Crayfish style, and I realized for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like crumbling from self doubt because I am not perfect… yep – I had my fat rolls on display, pink from too much sun the day before, my hair all over the place because of the sea water and humidity, and not a trace of make-up… but I felt great.

This year has taught me so much – yet again. But having self worth, and self love was by far the most valuable lesson I could ever have gained. I am happy. Not fairytale, unrealistic or daydreaming happy – I am happy about where I am – and I am happy about where we are going.

My child looked at me last week, and suddenly said: “You don’t look like my Mother.” Naturally my first thought was WTF DOES THAT MEAN?? But instead I asked, in a super calm voice: “What do you mean my Love?”

And he says: “You don’t look like my Mother because you are happy, and you look great.”

Both incredibly encouraging, and so sad at the same time right? But – I am sad for the last (almost two years – I shit you not!) of our lives, but that shit’s over now and now I am glad to hear my Son can see, and feel that I am happy and I really, really look forward to what’s lying ahead of us.

Here, my Friends, is to a Healing, soothing, and Happy 2020!

I realized again today how people are just waiting in the corner, lurking in the shadows, greedily waiting for you to make one mistake, give one misstep so they can jump up and yell;

“Look what she did!!” It astonishes me how some people thrive on the misery and failure of others. Today, I experienced it first hand again. If only these people realized that your perceived idea of me, is so warped. I wish I could call this person today and ask her if she feels better about her life now – if it makes her sleep better at night knowing that her ‘telling’ on me today has caused another part of my soul to die. Another part of my will to live and keep fighting this battle was lost today. I wish I could tell her that perhaps my existence doesn’t add much value to her life – but my life is hardly a walk in the park and today you destroyed more of the little bit of trust in Humanity, I had left.

I realize very well this blog today is filled with cowardice but I wish for nothing more than to simply pick up the phone and ask if she’s happy now? But I can’t do that… But I needed to vent. I needed to get at least this much off my chest today.

So thanks for taking the time today to read this…

I just need a hug… or 7

Silence

I switched the radio off this morning. I drove in silence to the station. My mind, and my ears just can’t take anymore negativity. This last week has been exceptionally chaotic and downright traumatic for anyone living in the country, and more specifically, Gauteng.

From little girls being snatched right out of their Mothers arms, then miraculously being returned to a dark street at 2am… unharmed, untouched… the country was wrecked with worry! I myself lay that entire night worrying about the trauma this child must have been experiencing. The turmoil her mother must have been in. What was that all about? Have we really lost our minds? I mean come on! This is not a Jason Strathom movie, this is our lives!!

Then the streets are being burned and plundered and my colleagues call me, fearing for their lives at work:

“Can they close the doors? Can they go home??”

The banks have closed up and sent their staff home out of fear for their safety. Videos are being shared on social media of people being burned alive!! Callously- like they don’t realize these are actual human beings, this is someone husband, father, child! It’s not CGI special affects. This is an actual person being burnt alive and you find it entertaining and amusing and feel the need to share the gruesomeness on social media with no care or consideration for the actual life that was lost. I am sickened to my stomach right now.

My mind feels cluttered and bogged down with our reality in this country. This is our lives. And I feel hopeless, and helpless. I want to leave this place. I want to take my child somewhere where I don’t have to keep him locked up inside the house with me all the time because I fear someone else will come and cause my child harm.

We were driving to school this morning listening to 702 at first. Listening to people dying, the country being plundered, and Aiden says to me:

“I’m so glad you didn’t die in that car accident you were in. I’m so glad you were able to walk away from it. What would I do without you?”

I had to bite back tears. These words came from nowhere almost as if my child has been able to read my thoughts of late… I am ashamed to admit that I have felt so despondent in recent weeks. My thoughts have been frightening to say the least, because it seems so hopeless. And here comes my 6 year old and he reminds me in a few words that he is my entire reason for living.

But how do I raise a self sufficient, happy and healthy child in a country that is dead set on destroying itself??!! I want to leave – I want to find greener pastures but my brutal reality is: I can’t get out. I don’t have a degree and that it seems, means I am useless to anywhere else than where I am right now.

And where I am right now… is killing me slowly every day.

Our country needs help. But where will our help come from?