A year ago

A year ago, my best friend was fighting for her life and in 8 and a half hours, she would lose the battle. 

A year ago, my best friend was alive and I thought that come August we'd be swilling tequila, and laughing so much.  That didn't happen. 

A year ago, I had a best friend that would answer when we spoke. Now it's just me doing the talking. 

A year ago, I knew there was someone out there who knew me as well as I knew myself. Who was the person that loved me for every little thing I had done. Who was honest with me. Who had known me forever and yet still never lost any love for me. 

And in the 365 days since we lost our beautiful girl, our shining sparkly angel, the hurt has not magically disappeared. The tears have not been dried from our cheeks and the hole she has left in our hearts has not been filled. We can dream that she's still with us, but when we wake, the nightmare returns. 

I miss Nhandi so much. I miss her knowing my every mood. And how by what I said, she knew what I meant. 

We were the sisters we chose for ourselves. We were closer than people liked. And although a whole hemisphere separated us, we retained that closeness. 

I thought we had all the time in the world, I thought we'd be old together. 

I miss you. A year passed, but the pain remains. My darling Noodle, my 1313, my angel, you are missed and loved. 

I'm just thinking of words

This week, I came across some old files on my computer... musings of mine. I was thinking of transferring them to here but having read most of them, they are just far too personal. So I won't. But then it got me to thinking that my diary has suffered. No longer do I crack out my diary of a night and write my thoughts onto paper. Nope, now I do it on the go, I bring up a note folder on my phone, I take a notebook out of my bag, or I sit down at the nearest PC (normally my own, not a strangers, that would be strange) and put my thoughts through that medium. But I scream for a bit of order. I have no idea how to put all these things into one place. My diaries (1984-present) are in books, in a suitcase, in the loft. I know where they are. But these snippets of myself that are electronically stored (or notebooked) are just in files. I don't like that. Part of me thinks I should print them all out and bind them in a book and put them in the loft.

I'm not sure why I have this need to preserve them. I suppose that it's quite possible that I've read far too many Apocalypse/Zombie books....that quite possibly, I think that they could be a blueprint or a survival guide for the future. However, I'm quite sure that in the event of a complete fall out of humankind, the little and last survivors are not going to be hunting around a loft wondering where my words of 2011 went. Still, they might need some light relief from a day foraging for food and killing zombies. And then of course, my mind goes on a tangent of it's own and I'm seriously considering (just in case, one never knows), putting a disclaimer on the loft that these are not history books. Hmmm well they are in a way, they are my history

I suppose one could describe them as a blueprint for the most emotional, clumsy woman of the world.

Where's my blink?

Today I had an headache. It was a bastard of one. It started yesterday, cunningly hovered for a few hours and then slept for a bit. Boom! This morning, bright and early, it was back with a vengeance. But you know, my life doesn't stop because my head is sore. It's Saturday and there are things to do. So while I wanted most desperately to encase myself in my duvet and drown out the day in my bed, what I ended up doing was ferrying CG back and forth from scuba diving. Two coffees I needed to do that. And then HB and Jlo decided it was a Saturday for coffee and so after taking CG to a friend, off I trotted to my favourite little coffee shop. Another two coffee's down the hatch and I was feeling tip top. Little bit manic (as I'd had some coca cola too) it has to be said. But the raging head had gone. Maybe it wasn't the slightly strong coffee, maybe it was just taking CG to something he loved, maybe it was the good old laugh I had with my friends but it had slunk off. And then they scampered off for shopping and I stayed in the coffee shop.

It really is my favourite - maybe because it's not a chain, maybe because it has pretty kitchen ware that I'd love to own. Possibly because the average age is about 124 and therefore I'm a spring chicken. Whatever. I like it there.

And so then I met another friend (blog name to be decided) and another two coffees went down my throat. Tipped over the edge. It was like having the last tequila of a night out. You know it's probably not sensible but you can't think of another option. You don't want to go home just yet, you're having a fab time and you reckon it's the only thing that will quench your thirst. 5pm was the last time I think I had a blink. You know, when your eyes open and shut? They've been on stalks ever since (it's 11.32pm now). I'm tired, I know I am, but I physically cannot shut my eyes. They just boing open when I try. Or one closes and the other goes 'NOPE, I have things to see'. I'm also typing the fastest I ever have!

Picked CG up from friends at 6pm and we went to the supermarket. It seemed that he was really slow, he says I was shopping in fast forward - normally I struggle to keep up with his long legs, but oh no, on those lattés I was steaming ahead like the shops were about to close on Christmas Eve, and you've yet to buy a present for your nearest and dearest (although how near and dear are they really, if it's Christmas Eve and you've not bought one little gift yet?).

When do you get the comedown from the caffeine? Normally this consumption is when I've not had any sleep, burnt the candles right down the middle so I'm unused to feeling this awake.

Pressing the 'post' button now...without so much of an edit. Caffeine clearly makes me reckless. ;)

It's a bit early

It really is a bit too early to do NYResolutions and stuff. But I'm reflecting over the year I've just had and I think finally, I've cracked how to do the resolution lark. Although, can't recall making any when I was younger.
See, what you do is you think of all the things you want to do and then you just do them. OR you just say yes to every positive experience. You just say F88k it. I wonder if that's a 'coming of age' thing?
It's well documented (by myself) that I don't like confrontation, yet today someone did something that involved me and they included me when I had not said that they could. Instead of bitching behind their back or just seething inside, I said 'NO! I'm not happy about the way you just assumed I would want my name attached to this. I don't'. And while, tomorrow might be a tad uncomfy in the work place. I'm happy for me that I did this. I think it's a step in the right direction.

Now, I don't know what people think of me. I assume some think I'm great and others don't. That's the nature of life, some folk like you and others don't. But, I've always wanted to be liked. I've never understood people who really don't like me, that haven't given me the chance. Weirdly, people who I don't particularly like, I've wanted them to like me as well. However, at this precise moment in time, I'm really not bothered who does and who doesn't. Another coming of age? Maybe it's the whole 'approaching a landmark age'.

I think it stems from the man I've finally untethered from my heart. It probably comes from a Nhandi place too. And it definitely is from going to SA this year. The people I WANT in my life are where I want them to be (bar Nhandi and my mom). I don't mean physically, in my ideal world, we'd all be a helluva lot closer.

I'm so very aware that my aunt is the last one standing on women who have been in my life who I adore and who helped form who I am. So while I'm terrified of losing her - I know that's a long time away and therefore I must get over it. Quite simply. There is no need for me to freak out about this or anything that hasn't yet occured.

Essentially, I have the people in my life who I want to be there. And of course there is room for new people to enter it.

Yes, life is good, but only as long as I make it so. I am the mistress of my own destination. And I plan to enjoy the ride while I get there.

musings at 2am

So I got my first tattoo in August. It was one Nhandi and I designed together. We were going to get it done together but obviously life decided against that and I had to get it on my own.

It was seriously VERY painful and I doubt I'll ever have another one but you know, it's 2.35am, I'm a little intoxicated and quite honestly, it's the thing that got me through the night. How bizarre is that?

I went out for a friend's birthday...not any old friend - my Nhandi in England friend - on the 11 month that Nhandi has left us. And in moments that I was alone I looked at the tattoo and put my lips to it.

I didn't think an engraving on my skin would have that much effect. I really didn't. But it did. It does.

Oh blog dear blog

Must make more of an effort. Ugh, sounds like a school report - no, sounds like ALL my school reports.

Anyway, so I directed a person to a blog post, in reference to a conversation we were having. In turn, to continue another conversation, this person directed me to their web page. And I've just spent the best part of 15 minutes having a browse. Now I am consumed with giggles and embarrassment that I've given the link to my amateur hour word page (no offence dear blog), when their life is filled with so much talent and such.

But this page is mine and I do take ownership of all the words I've written, all the bad spelling and grammatical errors and all the tears I've shed writing it all. Reading back through the pages and how my life has changed! In a mere two years. And with the 11 month anniversary of Nhandi tomorrow, I hope that it changes even more for the better in the months to come. I hate this feeling of emptiness and I know, I do actually know, that she would hate to see me like this. She would not like this. I also know that were the roles reversed, she'd be just as devastated and be wondering when it would all get better. I just feel so redundant - I think that's the word I mean. I just physically cannot make this situation better for her mom, I cannot physically or mentally change how we all feel and I do so hate to not be able to change things I don't like - only child syndrome or just 'mature woman used to getting her own way' <---same difference maybe.

I've gone off onto a different subject than the one I wanted to blog about - why does that always happen to me. I guess there's so much I want to put out there, on here. I want to blog about how I feel in general, I want to say how scared I am that my son is 16 in February and here's his whole future in front of him and have I done enough? Have I been a good enough role model, mother and done my job well. Sometimes I think I must have. Here's this tall teenager who respects me, who hasn't gone off the rails and he's nearly 16. He's a boy I'm forever proud of - except when it's 7.30 in the morning and I can't get him out of bed. Do I wish I could have provided more for him..hell yes! But I think that's normal parenting woes.

Hoping I come back here soonest - I need to write more. My diary is full of blank pages - that's not me....

Things countries could learn

So I've been thinking about things England could learn from SA and vice versa. 

1) They should be nearer - like maybe a 14 hour drive away at most. This million hour flight plays havoc with my sleeping pattern.

2) England should have South Africa's roads. End of. The roads are amazing in comparison. The views beyond compare. Making use of flyovers and that hard shoulder thingie is just genius. People might drive a little more aggressively in SA but they drive with a sense of purpose - they know how to overtake AND say thank you (love that little hazard light). Also the potholes aren't as big, when you see any. 

3) Shopping - a huge difference. Malls, malls and malls. Never have I seen so many shopping centres and all geared with a pleasant shopping experience in mind. The parking - Cavendish Square you win hands down. Those lights, oh what a dream. Food halls to make your mouth water...not just McD's and a Costa. And customer service with a smile. However, in the supermarkets England wins in the fresh fruit and veg department and the variety thereof. South Africa wins on the variety of juice and soft drink on offer. And pricing of meat. 

4) This is Connor's one: the houses in SA are different. They don't all look the same. Obviously, there's a space issue here. England doesn't have the room (nor the weather for all the swimming pools in back gardens). England wins on the double glazing front: South Africa - you NEED double glazing! Cape Town, you should get some kind of central heating along with double glazing.

5) Socialising: I'm going to say South Africa wins by a marginal purely because of the time we had. However, we were in big cities and on holiday and therefore in demand. But it appears that people eat out more - every place we went to was packed and it was Winter and sometimes the middle of the month and I doubt they were all tourists. 

6) England is nearer to Europe. That's a plus right? 

7) Scenery - a world apart. England is pretty, is scenic, is beautiful in a olde worlde castle way, very green, steeped in history and so on. South Africa is stark, a different green, stunning in a bold and brave way that takes your breath away. 

This is all very tongue in cheek and makes me just wish I could combine the two countries. To have the best of both worlds. To have all my friends and family only a drive in the car away.