Eat your worms

I've been known to say that 'city' living is not for me. That I couldn't bear to live in a great big city. And tonight, it struck me... Hastings is the only town I've actually lived in. I've always lived in cities. Or suburbs of cities...which I suppose in Africa terms is a town? I don't know. What I mean when I say I can't live in cities, is that I would find it hard to not live by the sea...  Because I really like cities - London this week was great, I love the buzz, the fast, the slow, the stuff to do, the places to walk and talk and eat and drink and laugh. I love views from high up and then the ones from the ground.... I love walking for miles, finding cool shops, chilling with TB with a view that goes on and on.... so yes, city living could be for me, but with some water (not the stinky Thames) near by. Brighton would be cool... Cape Town and PE were very similar vibe-wise.

I was walking along the beachfront this evening and it did all the things that I've come to rely on from the body of water. It cleared my head, it calmed me. I breathed in the breeze and I could breathe again. I lifted my face to the sun, hearing the music of the waves and I felt a little bit more 'me'.

It's no secret that I've been out of sorts, grumpy to a degree and just meh for a little bit. I can't shake this cold, I keep getting reactions to mozzie bites and I'm on the verge of tears every five minutes - for no reason. I'm just sad and I couldn't tell you why. I feel overwhelmed and I'm not sure if it's just been a big year, or because I want to do so much yet don't know where to start. I'm not sure if I'm sad because this month is a screw up in money terms and I hate that I have to budget for menial but important things, when actually I want to go shopping for pretty things and pubbing for drinking things while the sun is shining. hashtagbeingangrownupsucksballs  hashtageatworms  There is also that realisation that you're a little pissed off with yourself for being a grump and not terribly organised. 

So I needed the waves, I needed their melody, I needed to hear the crash of sound on pebbles... the ebb, the rush, the sound that sings to me. I walked and I sat and I didn't have to think. No thinking - just being. And it's made me happier, it's made me a little less bleurgh. I still have the arsehole housework/stuff to do but right now, it can go do one....

Buildings have feelings too

I wanted to do a blog - it's been sitting in my head for about 3 weeks - I wanted to do a blog about how much I've changed since joining where I worked to now. But I think the history of this blog is testament to that. I've been to a few leaving presentations - which utterly convinced me not to have one - and most of them say it was all about the people not the work blah blah smooze - except for that one person who said they hated every minute of every hour and to be fair, their collection was reflective of the mutual dislike.

For me, it wasn't so much the people - you get people everywhere (duh!) and you'll make friends everywhere. For me, it was the building.... that throwback from the 60's with it's weird design (so weird that I got lost on my first day and again on my very last day - 4000 of them in between), that dark clouds always appeared to hang over. That building has given me some memories. I was so daunted when I went in (and got lost) on that first day - by the end, I knew if I carried on walking, I'd find a familiar landmark.

That building has shared in my life... seeing me sob in the car park, fall in the bathroom, a sponsored silence (NEVER AGAIN), running to the hospital for various things (CG, my mom, my dad, my broken hand/arm), getting stuck in a lift and meeting my H for the first time - what an impression I made. Coercing Ben to fold his lanky self into a box and jump out singing Happy Birthday. And my army boys - making friendships that have been really sweet. Meeting TB - the list is endless. And that's the thing with buildings, they share in your life. That's true of any building. The day I move out of this house, I will sob like a toddler without a biscuit.

The people? Meh, I think I'll miss working with a few but the ones I really like, I'll see again. So no - the people made work bearable (some of them) but I'll not miss them to the point of bawling my eyes out. The building did that for me.

AHouse, you've seen me become an adult - at my worst and at my best.

Hheads

Turns out that some people are just dickheads. No matter how you try to excuse their behaviour as not knowing any better. Excuse their ignorance for not being very bright. The fact remains, they are just hoopleheads. They seek to bring everyone down to their miserable level, with their jealousy and petty mindedness. They seek to destroy all the pretty things around them, for they are not pretty themselves (inside or out).

More to be pitied than to be scorned, however I'm not that gracious. So for now I scorn their stupidity.

This should be a great week for me. An end to my time, an end of my era. But instead by hoopleheads not knowing how to do what they are paid for, I'm the one not having a great time. I will have the last laugh.... I'm cunning like that.

I want to be in a tent

I have the festival blues. Or maybe it's not so much the festival blues as opposed to the 'outside' blues. The joy of camping maybe. The setting up of a tent, getting your chairs out, making a fire. Just relaxing....fresh air, chatting, a drink or five. Hearing sounds but relishing the quiet of doing nothing. Making your space your own. Exploring around. Walking miles, just having a wander. 

I have outside blues, back to basic blues, 21st century, 1st world blues. 

It's north but it's south

And we're back. After a while. It's so lovely. It's even cloudy and not so warm. But it's great being back. 

He's fantastic. Annihilator. He's confident. I watch him striding across the court, his serve is immense. Looking great. His shirt rides up just a bit. It's a head butt place. Rock star. 

Last week was great but watching this is better. Maybe because I'm privy to the journey? 

I can hear the sea. I'm happy here. It's been a crazy year, but I'm calm. I'm chilled. The sea. The air. Here. Bear. They all do that. 

That little girl inside

So I'm reading through my hard drive - sounds filthy but it's not. I'm literally reading my hard drive. And I come across this little gem.  It's made me smile. It's about the start of facebook I guess. It's a little long winded and strange in itself.

I wrote about how you connect with those people from your past. Who knew you as a child, who you've 'friended' as an adult via social media and how you end up remembering how they made me feel. It's basically about my first big crush and how I became a pre-teen again, wondering if I should friend request him. Even though I was a woman. I wrote about how it's good to revisit who you were.

The funny thing about my first crush is that our circles ran along side each other for most of my teens and still now. I doubt he has any indication that I was so besotted....or if he did, has no memory of it now. We live in different countries, yet we still connect and converse. And that 12 year old who felt physically ill in his presence is gone. He's lost his exotic allure of being a boy. He's just a human friend to me.

And that little girl who was me was funny, now I think about it. She was all squiff teeth and freckles. Short - the one everyone calls cute and pats on the head. And she made people laugh. If I was wondering what people thought about me 'way back when', Facebook has done that one thing for me. If only I could tell that girl that people really thought she was lovely, and would actively seek her out to reconnect, maybe she wouldnt' have been so shy, so afraid to intrude. But then, maybe she wouldn't have been so nice.

I did say sorry for being a bitch to an old school friend. And they were astounded that I thought I was. Maybe girls want to be seen as bitchy - so that people think they don't get hurt? I wonder how many would be surprised at how many nights I cried myself to sleep over a boy, over an argument with a friend, over first world problems, over famine and the state my country was in. Maybe they wouldnt' be surprised? 

And I can admit to being the less than perfect friend, i can admit to being the one who always got her way, who dragged her best friend around the streets even though poor Nhandi had a cast on her leg... so not cool....I still feel guilty about that one.

Now I'm not sure if there is a point to this blog and I'm certainly not about to put the contents of my hard-drive onto this blog..... it's just been nice to reflect that I was a funny little thing with so much emotion and giggles in me... and you know maybe I havent' changed that much! That little girl is still inside, all silly and giggly and blushing from her toes.

In the words of Sammy Davis Jnr: Savour the moments, that are warm, special and giggly

Certainly one of my life mottos.

🍸

Martini. It's a fabulous drink. I think it's my drink. I feel like I could have many.  I don't even bother with the shaking and stirring...I'm not JBond. And while olives are tasty, I prefer them with cheese. 

Here is it...my thirst quencher, my summertime loving in a glass