On car guards and a whole lot of anger

A couple of weeks ago my car was broken into while I was in church. The bastards (for lack of a better word) broke my back windscreen and stole my work laptop and vanished. When I came out of the church I noticed that there was a huge hole on my windscreen. I was puzzled; I mean when I parked my car an hour ago everything was fine.

I parked at my usual spot, opened the boot, took out my purse and  swapped my flat shoes for heels. I didn’t look around to see who was lurking in the background, I never do! After all it’s Braamfontein and every Tom, Dick, Simphiwe, Nokuthula and their dog is there.

There are guards everywhere, bright lit streets, thousands of people walking around and the ever irritating car guards who always promise to take good care of your car. So why would I look around when I am in such a “safe environment”? So I went into church and an hour later; Boom! this had happened.

So as I got back to the scene of the incident I was puzzled and had so many questions running through my head. Why, how, what, when; with WHY the biggest question.

Who breaks a windscreen of a car to steal a laptop? Who does that? Does the person think of the inconvenience that the car owner is faced with? Having to replace the window and the documents in the laptop?  I therefore concluded that we live in a sick sick society that has lost ubuntu (humanity)

People blame poverty and joblessness for their mistakes and think taking from those who work hard for their money is the way. There is a sense of entitlement and a feeling that because you are in a car you have money, you are better off and I am a poor street kid or guard so you must give me money. If you don’t I will take something that belongs to you. At least that’s how I see it.

Back to the scene, when I got back to my car the puzzling thing was that there was no car guard in sight and these are the same guards who promise to guard your car with their lives. I have given them money each day and I even went to the extent of giving one of them a pair of sneakers on a rainy day. So I asked myself, why I should be kind, if the same people that I am helping are the ones taking from me. Biting the very hand that feeds them and not being remorseful, why should I bother? Let me also lock my car and be disgusted by them, let me walk away without giving them a cent or making eye contact. Let me do that.

I have been to Braamfontein again and parked across the road where my car was broken into. A week ago as I was leaving one of the car guards thought I wasn’t going to give him coins; he said “If you had given me money the other day they would not have broken into your car.” Mind you, that day I didn’t have a single coin in my purse, so should I have given him a R20 note for pretending to look after my car?

As he said those words, I felt something under my skin crawl, I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. He stood there and told me that, meaning he knows about the break-in and he is probably in cahoots with the criminals.

Just yesterday as I left Braamfontein one of them said, “My sister I see you have fixed your window.” For F&*(@ sake, that is clear message that he knew what was going on and probably got his share of the money.  I am extremely angry with car guards in Braamfontein; there is anger boiling inside of me each time I see them and I won’t give them a cent. If they want to take something else and break another window then I will run to the cops. Ooh wait, no I can’t; the cops don’t care, their systems will be down, or better yet, they will all be on strike!

Signed by @ Milirazzi (Mad black woman)

By A Hashtaghero Posted in Life

Beautiful, smart and single

I picked this pART out of a chat with a really beautiful woman recently re: life, love, work etc… I wish she knew just how beautiful she is. I hesitated before sending this out, didn’t want to hang out her under-where on the interweb… so I changed her name to Beautiful Woman (she really is). I also have the undercover hope that this could inspire some other single beautiful women to lighten up and stop carrying around that ‘I‘m so complicated men won‘t be able to strip the layers’ or is it ‘I‘m so smart, they just won’t get me.’ No ma’am, you’re just scared of getting hurt. Put that heavy ish down! *Taking my own advice…*

MissGods: Are you happy, generally?
Beautiful Woman: Not really I wish I could start dating again [I sense a bit of winter-chill creeping in here]. It seems like guys are too scared to be with a techno chick like me
Missgods: Is that what they tell you?
Beautiful Woman: Yes
MissGods: “Uuu baby I’m scared of you!”
Beautiful Woman: Plus most never want to see me after the first date. I even want to switch careers. I feel like I’m in a man’s world.
MissGods: What are you looking for in a guy?
Beautiful Woman: [Someone] honest, respectful and trustworthy. I no longer care about looks and money.
MissGods: So you’re willing to be with an honest and respectful man who doesn’t look that hot and can’t take you out on a date? Just asking.
[dramatic silence]
MissGods: Well?
Beautiful Woman: Well he mustn’t be too poor [Ahaaaa!]. We won’t compliment each other.
MissGods: So why are you settling for less? I’m willing to bet that those guys you went on a date with weren’t even worth your time. They realise they need to step up their game to be with you. Nothing wrong with that at all. It just means you need to aim higher. Your guy is patiently waiting for you while you sift through the bottom of the pile. Just sayin’.
Beautiful Woman: Yeah. That’s true. Someone once gave me that advice. Maybe I should aim higher.
MissGods: Maybe it’s not those guys who are scared of you. Maybe it’s you who’s scared of what you could become – an extremely irresistible woman who deserves to be treated like a queen (financially, emotionally and otherwise).
I once sent out the message to the universe saying I’d like an honest man who respects me…. and I got him. A very honest, respectful simple guy; who also doesn’t drive, lives at home with his mom… building his non-profit start-up… mostly broke. I had to temporarily let go of the spontaneous gifts, the special dates, the passenger-status, the long phone calls etc…. which I happen to like, a lot.
Beautiful Woman: So you sent out a message on FB [The digirati generation]
MissGods: No. I met him at a workshop. But I prayed for this type of guy. He came in the package I asked for at the time — simple, honest, humble and respectful man. After a month of no special dates, no wonderful surprises, no long phone calls… and no emotional availability — he was always hustling and stressed about money. I had to sadly let him go. Broke up with him.
Beautiful Woman: That’s my problem. Most likeable guys are broke. [Sisterly sigh]
MissGods: I realised that even though he had those beautiful qualities, I really wanted to also have a man that makes me go weak at the knees because he’s good-looking, one who is able to also spontaneously take us on a drive- a weekend away when I need it most etc. Why can’t we be honest with ourselves about what we want?
Send it out… and open yourself up to receive. Importantly, not meeting the right guy now doesn’t mean you have to search frantically. It means that you need to focus your search within.
Beautiful Woman: Yes. I totally agree.
MissGods: So, in the meantime, take yourself out to the theatre, do something/go somewhere you’ve never done/never been before at least every month; bond with some friends you’ve lost touch with; go out shopping or to a beauty treatment with some crazy girlfriends… give your wardrobe a facelift; spend some time with your mom; go to the gym or go to yoga or belly dance class (highly recommended).
Beautiful Woman: I have to go now. Good night.

MissGods: Good night.

By @Missgods (Nonkululeko Godana)

The Side Effects of Diazepam – By Zaheer Carrim

Image

It was a cold winter night. I had a blocked nose and a temperature. My head felt like it had procreated with a giraffe, and insomnia plagued me.

I was flipping through a Wallpaper magazine, trying to get over the fact that I was a sick little pig. As I flipped through the mag’s pages, I took note of the visuals that were being used in the editorials adverts.

A lot of emphasis was being put on heritage. How far the brand got or how old the brand was. The models and elements featured in the adverts stared blankly ahead and almost said “Yea, I look like this all the time, this brand rocks”. – But what made me think of this trivial detail so intricately – it was called ‘Diazepam’. I was on medication (see: sick pig) and the side effects of which tend to make one passively focused, whilst drifting off to pain free slumber.

I deduced the following:

Brands today, are hell-bent on getting people who have access to money, to buy their products at premium rates. This is set on underlying messages that relay “We can condition your lifestyle through heritage, affiliation to Her Majesty -The Queen (see: Burberry) and even other brand strategies that claim “old world values”.

What makes the “old world” more appealing than the silver future aesthetics that were all the rage promised by the trend guru who toasted to the millennium? People now realise that the old days of opulence and even an average lifestyle came with more ease and less obvious pretention.

I asked myself how my job as Content Manager fitted this model. It of course had the semblance of mass audience reach, the need for planning communication like a magazine, and the need to appeal to those who clicked LIKE on my page and its content.

But how will my diazepam-induced epiphany contribute to my next editorial calendar?

It made me realize that people want to engage with a story that is familiar to them. One that evokes the emotion of a successful past, being passed on to you at that very moment. Just you, the screen and an Internet connection- signed into your social platform.

Your brand is harnessing their lifestyle. Even making them proud to be affiliated and engaged with it. Some of them consider it a privilege; others consider it their right.

We make and can make them buy into anything we want them to. Don’t fool yourself in thinking social media is not about selling product. We can condition them to be the consumers that feed their actualization needs to a point of gluttony.

How? By simply analyzing your audience and the triggers that make the majority get carpel tunnel syndrome from your page. What are these triggers? If you don’t know by now, engagement that flows over the screen and contributes to their timeline aligning with their identity. If this model doesn’t work for you, you are probably not alone, but run along and find one that works.

Happy birthday to Mr Ex

Dear ex….

While driving to work this morning it hit me that it’s his birthday today. He is turning 33. A wonderful age, don’t  you think? But suddenly, I was plagued with daydreams about what I would be doing if I was still in his life.Well,  I would have been up early to make him a nice breakfast, stash his gift somewhere in the lounge, sms him when I got to work and check on him all day just to check if he’s having a great birthday.

I would have had to come back early from work, prepare a meal that I probably didn’t know how would end up and wash down wine on our balcony, smelling the crisp content in the air.

Would I have gotten a simple thank you for all my efforts?  Would he have proposed with a Cartier ring that very minute? No!

Notice how, it’s all I, me and myself in this conversation? Well that’s because I really would have to go all out, like I always did for his birthdays. Being his girlfriend, I guess that made sense, but the pressure of reaching expectations should not be what realtionships are about. Togetherness and spending the day he was born should suffice shouldn’t it?

But for my birthday? Erm let’s see, we would have opened the day with a fight about me not spending enough time with him, being out till the wee hours of the morning with my friends (When he is also out) or a guy friend calling my phone! I would have been accused of cheating or even worse not loving him enough.

He would sulk, not talk to me, go out with his buddies and play the victim the umpteen years. Our schedules were already a sign it wouldn’t work, when I left, he got back, when I got back he left.

So I would spend my birthday with my girlfriends.  Having a nice meal but ofcourse wishing that he was the one laughing at trivial things with me on the dinner table.

My girlfriends would ask of course. I would have to make up stories of how he had an emergency and that he promised to make it up to me when he got back. What a fascade.

So yes Mr Ex, happy birthday hope the next girl is there for you and puts in more effort to making sure that your birthdays are memorable and not as miserable as you made me feel.

PS: thanks for being such a jerk; I would never have met my hunny if you were the guy your parents think they raised.

With love,

@Milirazzi - Blow your candles well.

The bearable quietness of books

A quiet read

I love reading. Many do. But it’s only recently, in a bout of self-learning that I have figured out what is truly so immensely powerful about it, and that Luddite contraption, the book.

While I read, I am immersed in worlds that may not exist, listening in on conversations and plans and watching over the shoulders of protagonists as they plot love, murder and the occasional coup by broadsword. And I am transfixed.

On that plain page, letters slowly march across worlds, and thoughts and feelings unfold, as fast as I can read the words and imagine the scenes.

I hear the battle cry and see the tears and blood; I feel the blows and am actually breathless when the final stroke of lovemaking climaxes in an orgasm.

Chills creep down my spine as I imagine a door swinging in an airless room, and fog rolling in across a calm sea is more portent of doom than beauty.

What a wonderful place to play this page is. There is no advert blinking annoyingly, no twitter stream demanding my attention, no bing from my phone demanding I acknowledge a message.

It is stillness; quiet; being. Just me, the page, and the words upon it.

I do not hear a sound when I am so immersed. I do not miss the raucous call of Friday night drinks with friend, nor the witty dinner conversation they may supply.
I do not need approval or even acknowledgment. In this sacred communion, I give of my imagination to a dusty tome and am rewarded beyond words.

I learned to read, like most South African children, when I went to school (age 5). By the age of 9, I was reading abridged Reader’s Digest novels. I have since greedily lapped up every written word around me; books, posters, newspapers, magazines and even the back of cereal boxes.

And then the Internet happened. And while it is a source of information, it is not the trusting, uninterrupted, undemanding space I have come to love from my books. It does not feed my imagination, nor does it give me space to breath.

Unlike most of the world, it is now my source of income. Which means its grasping, relentless demands for my attention and interaction have begun to take a toll. For the classic introvert, where a respite from constant stimulation and the relentless demands of communication are the keys to clinical sanity, the Internet is a one-way ticket to constant anxiety.

There is no room to step back, to let the information ingested be absorbed and assimilated into what has been amassing for most of my time on this planet. Instead, it is beginning to just become meaningless data.

A basic tenet of pedagogy and curriculum development is that we build knowledge and understanding on what we already know. So we know about the Periodic Table because over the span of thousands of years people of science have worked on bringing us this information. Technology speeds up this knowledge gathering, and in some cases allows assimilation quickly, but for the vast majority of humans, knowing how to drive a car doesn’t translate into driving even a tractor without the space between.

We learn slowly. We absorb slowly. And until now, those who have been able to delay gratification have been the ones who truly reap life’s rewards (think about the nerd who studied accountancy every night and now has the car you can only dream of? Yup – master of delayed gratification).

But instant gratification is what’s in these days; so the 10 000 hours of practice to master a discipline are virtually an abomination to many and gurus and experts abound, because the Internet promises everything, now.

This constant streaming of information is now flooding a psyche that has always welcomed knowledge. But I don’t feel like the proverbial kid in the candy store; instead I feel somewhat overwhelmed.

It is time to take a step back; to revisit that wonderful space where the words don’t scroll but they speak such melodious volumes as they are the only voices to be found.

I love this crazy digital world; it will democratise much, including stupidity and nastiness, but it requires a brain that probably does not long for quiet.

Maybe the age of the true Digital Native has yet to arrive; or maybe the age of the quiet, absorbed learner is long gone.

Even so, while books exist, they will find a home with me; and I hope that someone else who needs the respite their pages offer comes along to sit in quiet contemplative silence as we read together.

Display your scarves by hanging them on a coat hanger in your room.

The versatility of the humble scarf

I love scarves. I really, really love scarves. What’s not to love? They’re so versatile, so many reasons to love them!

Let me share the ways:

• It’s summer, but it’s raining. Wear a scarf, it will keep you warm
• It’s cold, but the sun is shining. Wear a long sleeved t-shirt with a scarf, you’ll be warm
• It’s just plain cold! Wear a scarf
• You want to dress up a casual outfit. Add a scarf, it adds pizzazz

This year retailers all over South Africa have embraced the scarf. So many options, so many colours. Buy a fringed scarf, it’s all the rage at the moment. What’s a snood? A never-ending ring of a scarf, which you double up around your neck similar to the way you would a long beaded necklace.

But the very best thing about a scarf? You don’t have to pay a fortune for a decent one. Obviously there are some boutiques that will charge you hundreds of rands for a scarf, but you can find stylish scarves at most retailers.

Two of my best finds so far is a silver and grey fringed scarf from Mr Price and a navy blue snood from Pick ‘n Pay, both only R49 each. Now that is money well spent!

If you love scarves as much as I do, you can turn them into a feature in your bedroom. Instead of storing them away in your cupboard, get a few stylish hooks or a key holder and hang the scarves on the wall for all the world to see.

If you too love scarves but not sure exactly how to wear them, I found this awesome site that truly illustrates the versatility of the humble scarf: http://www.scarves.net/how-to-tie-a-scarf/

What I miss about childhood

image credit: learningaswearegrowing.blogspot.com

Most of us spend our childhood wishing it away. We long to be grown-ups if only to be allowed to stay up past 8pm, not have to go to school or to be able get into nightclubs. But when we’re finally ‘big people’ we yearn for the innocent and carefree days of being a child. Longing for the future will just make your life pass before your eyes. The future will come soon enough so just enjoy where you are today.

Image credit: http://mango-watermelon-love.tumblr.com via Pinterest

While I love being an adult with my own independence and my own rules, I do believe it’s important to keep your inner child alive. How old am I? I’m 26 (and a quarter) years old but I still sleep in Hello Kitty pajamas along with two of my favourite stuffed toys every night. I still brag about my dad being stronger than anyone else’s dad. (Seriously though, he really is stronger than your dad and he knows everything and he can fix anything.) I lick the bowl after making cake and I still get a thrill from colouring in and playing Barbies with my nieces.  I think it’s important to keep playing; life is meant to be fun.

Image credit: d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net via Pinterest

Thinking about this made me a bit nostalgic. So here are a few things I miss from my childhood:

  1. The excitement of believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.
  2. Wearing neon coloured ski pants, giant takkies and baggy Disney t-shirts without one ounce of shame
  3. Having my every need met without having to think or worry about it.
  4. Eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted
  5. Staying up all night talking about boys at a sleepover with your best friends
  6. Saying one rude word over and over and laughing harder each time.
  7. Waking up early on a Saturday morning to watch a cartoon marathon
  8. Being tucked in every night
  9. Endless energy to do anything I wanted
  10. Jumping into the ocean and not worrying about ruining my hair and makeup
  11. Getting a toy with a kiddies meal pack
  12. My mom wrapping me in a giant towel after bath time
  13. Not needing a cup of coffee to wake up in the mornings
  14. Eating left-over dessert for breakfast
  15. Learning something new and amazing every day at school
  16. Not thinking twice about asking a silly question
  17. Going up on stage for an award in front of the entire school
  18. The thrill of being allowed to stay up late on a Sunday night to watch Rescue 911
  19. Making tents out of blankets on top of chairs
  20. Not worrying about making lists all the time

Image credit: http://imgfave.com/view/2194362 via Pinterest

Although my carefree childhood days maye be long gone, I guess the best part will be one day watching my own kids experience all of this.

What do you miss about childhood?

By: Savannah

Image credit: http://www.wanelo.com/ via Pinterest

Image credit: etsy.com via Pinterest

Who are you when you’re truly DOing you?

I’m a flirt… I flirt with words, I flirt with photography, I flirt with      music (my soulmate), I flirt with vivacious men (and women), I flirt  with ideas/ concepts, I flirt with time/space/energy, I flirt with  reinvention (of myself), I flirt with superstardom, I flirt with freedom,  I flirt with the dream of flirting with R Kelly (lol).

Missgods

Life is very much like driving

Life is very much like driving

Image

I was taught how to drive by my family members. The very first person that was concerned about why others were driving me around as opposed to me, a very able person, driving myself around was my late great-uncle. He sat me down one day and asked me what my future plans were in terms of developing this skill. I was taken aback! What was he truly saying? That I had to stop asking people to drop and fetch me? That I couldn’t travel on public transport until late at night? I mean really!

I contemplated it, a week later, for weeks afterwards. Eventually I asked if I could register at some school where I could actually start learning how to drive. He smiled, briefly.

My first week was the worst! The instructor was impatient, loud and abrasive. He was unkempt (look, if you are going to teach me you better look the part) and hardly cared to notice if I was improving or not; I know this because he taught me the third form of parking a day before my test and I only went on the road once.

Needless to say, I failed the test. I blamed my great-uncle for, well, what I believed to be a waste of time and I convinced him – at least I believed I did – that driving was not for me and people had no choice but to drive me around! One evening, he came back from work and didn’t come in the house. He screamed my name and asked me to come out. I did as he asked me to and there he was in his suit and key in hand asking me to get into the car and sit in the driver’s seat. I was so shocked, I refused! I had no driver’s license and I was scared as hell!

I got in the car though, and prayed for both our lives. He asked me to turn the ignition on and drive slowly.  After 15 minutes I got on the road. In his calm yet stern voice he directed my every movement. I listened. I was sweaty. I drove back into the driveway, with no scratch, no lawsuit pending and a smile on my face.

After that I asked my uncle if he could assist me in learning how to drive. He agreed and after I received that license I have never looked back!

Life is pretty much like driving I believe. You don’t know much about it unless you experience it yourself and get some guidance along the way. You need to ask for help in certain areas, especially in areas where you are struggling. You will fail at times; you will be gravely disappointed at other times. Those things are inevitable but you can’t stop living and asking for help along the way.

Do things at your own pace. Sometimes you don’t know or even understand why you need to experience certain things until you master certain skills. You are the driver of your own life and you decide, ultimately, how you steer where you need to go. You will be told how and when to pause at times, how to be aware of others around you but only you will know which route you are required to take to get to your destination.

You will always need advice from others, especially from those that are genuinely interested in seeing you progress. That’s the beauty of having loved ones around you, they want to see you be a driver of your own life and they are more than willing to help you get there by yourself.

Just like driving, you will pass people who will help you get there quicker; they will make way for you to turn left or right. However, there will be those that will not let you in the lane for reasons only known to them. Don’t let that deter you from getting there. There will be times where you feel discouraged. It might take you a further hour, day, year to reach your destination. Other times you will feel like the drivers around you are impressed with your driving skills on the road. Stay focused; always.

Getting to the correct destination is irrelevant, but getting there on your own is what is imperative for your growth.

Never forget the people that helped you get there, whether they were subconscious of it or not. Never believe that you did this solely on your own. You got there on your own, but always remember those drivers around you, the good and the bad, helped you in some way get there. You may change courses but never forget where you need to go. There will be adjustments along the way but steer clear; always.

Khumo Makgothi