Haphazard Ramblings

My (Milestone) Tweet...

2011-10-03T08:50:00.000+02:00

My 10 000th Tweet

Follow me on twitter: @QueenKelso

Avril Lavigne - What The Hell

2011-09-14T08:33:00.000+02:00

Song of the Day

What The Hell - Avril Lavigne

All my life I've been good but now
I'm thinking, what the hell?All I want is to mess aroundAnd I don't really care about
If you love me, if you hate meYou can't save me, baby, babyAll my life I've been good but nowWhoa, what the hell?

Song of the Day...

2011-09-07T13:49:00.000+02:00

Gives You Hell
by the All American Rejects

(I chose the Glee version because we all know how much I love Glee)

Now where's your picket fence love

And where's that shiny car
Did it ever get you far?

You never seem so tense, love
Never seen you fall so hard
Do you know where you are?

Truth be told I miss you
Truth be told I'm lying

Nothing...

2011-08-17T11:38:00.001+02:00

Song of the Day...

Nothing - The Script

Because this songs says more than I can

Album Cover

Am I better off dead
Am I better off a quitter
They say I'm better off now
Than I ever was with her
As they take me to my local down the street
I'm smiling but I'm dying trying not to drag my feet

They say a few drinks will help you to forget her
But after one too many I know that I'm never
Only they can see where this is gonna end
But they all think I'm crazy but to me it's perfect sense

And my mates are all there trying to calm me down
'Cause I'm shouting your name all over town
I'm swearing if i go there now
I can change your mind turn it all around

And I know that I'm drunk but I'll say the words
And she'll listen this time even though their slurred
Dialed her number and confess to her
I'm still in love but all I heard was nothing

What am I reading...

2011-08-16T08:15:00.001+02:00

What am I reading this week...

Dark Poppy's Demise by S.A Partridge

What is it about

All Jenna wants is for someone to notice her, but all everybody sees is a gawky teenager with an overactive imagination. But she leads a double life. As Dark Poppy, she can be herself. Her online friends see her for who she truly is: a sensitive, creative young woman with a talent for photography. When she receives a friend request from Robert Rose on Facebook, she doesn’t hesitate to start up a friendship.

But then, why shouldn’t she? He’s the hottest guy she’s ever seen; with emerald green eyes that seem to stare right through the computer screen . . .

Dark Poppy’s Demise is S.A. Partridge’s third novel for young people.

Follow her on Twitter here

Check out her blog

The Old Hags Club

2011-08-15T08:15:00.000+02:00

The Old Hags Club is now in session!

Catherine's "What a Lot I don't Got"

We are the group that looks forward to a future of unlimited cats (the ones where we forget the names). We are holding bottles of wine at 7am in the morning, roaming shopping malls because we are feeling sorry for ourselves and we are the group that guzzles (yes! Guzzles) the biggest boxes of Astros and Smarties known to man!

So this blog is dedicated to Mpho (Idi) and Catherine (Stalin)...

For the First Time...

2011-08-12T07:34:00.001+02:00

Song of the Day

For the First Time - The Script

Alternative Album cover

She's all laid up in bed with a broken heart

While I'm drinking Jack all alone in my local bar and we don't know how

How we got into this mad situation, only doing things out of frustration
Trying to make it work, but, man, these times are hard

She needs me now but I can't seem to find the time

I got a new job now on the unemployment line and we don't know how

How we got into this mess, is it God's test? Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best

Trying to make things work, but, man, these times are hard

But we're gonna stop by drinking our cheap bottles of wine

Sit talking up all night, saying things we haven't for a while, a while, yeah

We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years

We just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time

Dear 21 year-old self...

2011-08-11T07:55:00.000+02:00

I have to admit that I ~~stole~~ Borrowed this post subject from my (Amazing)friend Catherine (or Cococath), you can find her post here...

This post is me writing a letter of advice to my 21 year-old self

Hey Kelly-Sue!

I know you hate that name and right now you resent it, because it’s a name that says everything about who you used to be. So because I respect you enough I take it back:

Hey Kelso!

I want to tell you that you are an amazing young lady – you don’t know it yet – but you are my best friend, and amazing person to talk to. You put up with all my crazy.

You are about to embark on a journey that will change your young life forever! You won’t believe me when I tell you, but you have to start taking it easy! I know you feel you need to hold on to everything but you won’t be able to fix everything and you will lose those close to you and you are going to need them the most!

You are going to learn who your friends are very quickly; some will turn on you and others with yank you to hither and yonder and you won’t know till it is too late – I wish I could tell you how to stop this from happening but it will make you a better and stronger person.

There is one friend who will always give you good advice, never let her go! (Yes it’s a girl!)

You are going to read some pretty amazing books and you will irritate everyone around you with your book rantings.

Watch more old movies.

You will hate yourself for so long that when you don’t you feel empty and will search for something to occupy you and books will be the only thing that make you shine.

You will never be able to “just let go” because that isn’t you but your friends will love that most about you.

Don’t ever lose your sense of humour, it’s the best thing about you – it makes you stand out.

Over the next couple of years you will laugh your hardest, cry as if you have split in half, go on a holiday that will change your life and realise that no matter you know what’s best for you (even taking the highway during peak traffic times!).

At the age of 23 you will have grown up; wanting to have kids and get married – but stop rushing things... and I know you are rolling your eyes, but things will happen when they need to happen.

Please learn to be patient with yourself!

Ask more questions because you will learn that not all of them are stupid ones.

Listen to your grandmother.

It is ok to be on your own, sometimes...

You will want to give your love to the wrong people but there will be certain people who need it and will return it. Never think you are worth less than settling for, because you are worth the sky and back!

It is ok to drink wine by yourself.

There are nuggets of advice that you will roll your eyes at, most of them you haven’t taken to heart but you will.

Just learn to survive because Tomorrow’s are always better than Today’s...

Regards,
Your Older 23 year-old self...

Bookish Rants...

2011-08-10T09:24:00.000+02:00

Besty has made love books again - well I always loved books, but I love books more! If a person could love something MORE then I LOVE books even more, than before!!!!!!!!!

I really hope you like the video! I think I may just try it!

Meet Betsy...

2011-08-09T06:45:00.000+02:00

I got the most amazing early birthday gift!

Here meet Betsy... (Yes, Betsy!).

She is robust, spacious, gorgeous and she is all mine! I spent most of Saturday salivating over my book collection and thriving in the feeling that they will no longer be uncomfortable in piles in my cupboard - they can now breathe, in alphabetical order!

I am a true book nerd!

Before and After Packing

I never thought I could love it this much!

So let me not keep you in suspense any longer... I introduce you to

BETSY!

There were book piles EVERYWHERE!

After packing the bottom shelf - there were still so many books!

Perfection!

A vlog to make you smile...

2011-08-08T06:29:00.002+02:00

So I run this book blog with my friend Tarryn, called It's a Book Thing and since I haven't blogged in a while and I wanted to share my favourite post with you. We ventured into Vlog (that is Video Blogging) territory and it is a video that still makes me laugh...

So check it out here

If you love books check out the blog!!

Things I love...

2011-08-07T11:15:00.001+02:00

Things I love!

Before the Worst...

2011-08-05T08:59:00.000+02:00

Song of the day:

Before the Worst - The Script

Why I love this song...

We were sitting with our backs against the world
Saying things that we thought but never heard
Oh, who would've thought it would end up like this

But everything we talked about is gone
And the only chance we have of moving on
Was trying to take it back before it all went wrong

The 100% perfect girl...

2011-08-04T06:30:00.000+02:00

Haruki Murakami on seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning...

My friend Claire sent me this amazing article by Haruki Murakami about him meeting the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning, the email read "READ THIS!!".

An Article that really hit home more than once, so thank you Claire!

You can read the article here

One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.

Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.

"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.

"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"

"Not really."

"Your favorite type, then?"

"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."

"Strange."

"Yeah. Strange."

"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"

"Nah. Just passed her on the street."

She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.

After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.

...

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fourteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don't you think?

Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.

(I couldn't put the whole article in, it really is worth the read!)

Copyright: Article by: Haruki Murakami that appeared here

Keep Calm and Carry on

2011-08-03T09:02:00.001+02:00

A poster originally created by The Ministry of Information (MOI) during the Second World War on King George's stationery as a propaganda tool in 1939. The British government feared gas attacks and bombings as so the famous poster was created to fulfill a sense of reassurance in the public during evacuations etc with the message "Keep Calm and Carry On", but it is said that the posters were destroyed to pulp at the end of 1945.

So here are some of my favourite posters...

Fleetwood Mac - Rumours (1977)

2011-08-02T08:30:00.002+02:00

Rumours (1977) - Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac, British-American rock band formed in the late 60s, released their 10th album, titled Rumours, 1977. The band's line-up consisted of guitarist and vocalist Lindsey Buckingham, drummer Mick Fleetwood, keyboardist and vocalist Christine McVie, bassist John McVie, and vocalist Stevie Nicks.

An album aptly titled for the animosity surrounding the band; McVie's (Christine and John) divorced after 8 years of marriage, Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham were having an on and off affair - which lead to constant fighting, and Mick Fleetwood discovered his wife was having an affair with his best friends. Smothered in drama and coated media intrusion the band talked only of their music.

Rumours album cover

What is reported as the band's greatest album of their career, Rumours is by far my favourite CD in my collection. A tracklist that will soothe the hardest of hearts, calm the nerves and evoke a karaoke session in ones car, kitchen or at ones desk. I love this album and just had to blog about it...

So without further adieu, I give you the song that I am loving this week...

Go Your Own Way - 1977

Calling all Bootcampers!!!

2011-08-01T13:16:00.001+02:00

“What!?” I stifled a blurted out laugh at Tarryn.

“No really, Kelly we can do this! Tuesdays and Thursdays, BOOTCAMP!!!” I am sure she did a jig and a jump with a grunt like squeal to show her excitement. A feeling of ‘I don’t look good in cameo print’ came over me as blood rushed from my face to my feet... WHY!!

“Hai Ke, No man you guys! You know I don’t run, right!” said Fuzz.

Day 1:

This is how it started, we had a park and fat to burn so why not Bootcamp? Well after the first hour session I could easily point out about 100 reasons why not to do this Bootcamp! In fact the moment Tarryn started shouting “MOVE YOUR ASS!!!” I immediately knew this couldn’t be good, so as a last attempt to hurt Tarryn (or at least try) the way she was hurting me, I yelled back “I *Breathes* HATE *BREATHES* YOU!!!”... This is how it went for about 30 minutes as Tarryn handed out exercise commands I yelled back with as much vile and sarcasm as my lifeless exhausted body could muster. I have never been so grateful as when Tarryn said “Stretch Time”. The angels sang songs of jubilant praise as my knees descended to the ground in exhaustion.

This is how Tarryn looked...

Day 2:

This is when Fuzz decided to join...

An hour spent with “Tarryn I will kill you” and “Ahhh look at that doggy” and “Yes FEEL THE BURN BABY!” (Note: these were all Fuzzy’s exclamations of joy).

Tarryn seemed to take it easier on us and when I asked she laughed then replied “Well I don’t actually want to kill you”. I am yet to be convinced, as she continues to yell “Move it!” and “RUN RUN RUN”. It is as if the devil said “Here, Look after my spawn!”

This was me when I got home

Day 3:

Hello Glorious winter, YOU SUCK! I collapsed in a heap on Tarryn’s backseat as Fuzz and Tarryn tried to regain the feeling in their fingertips. The COLDEST day known to man and we were working on our figures instead of working on our Hot Chocolate techniques. It was so cold we walked away blue, as in the colour.

Let’s see if we can survive another week bootcampers...

(I am off to practice my Rocky victory scene)

Dear Kyla Justine...

2011-07-27T12:51:00.001+02:00

I have this friend, Kyla Justine Downton. Now before you all start rolling your eyes and murmuring "Imaginary friends are not really friends!".

I have been blogging since 2006 and not once has there been a blog dedicated fully to me. So I was surprised to catch a glimpse at Kyla's blog, called 'Good Luck My Darling', and I found a post entitled HEY KELLY! This is for you... (See it here).

We have been friends for what seems like forever and an age; meeting among crayons and marie biscuits in Grade 0 and almost 18 years later we are not only neighbours but also best friends.

So as a tribute to Kyla Justine Downton I give you...

Dear Kyla,

Here are my favourite things about you...

Your laugh
Your humour makes me snort coca-cola up my nose
There is not one song I hear and think "Once Kyla and I did that" or "Kyla said that"
You are the first to say "Drinks?" when I need it the most - and I don't even have to tell you
I will never forget your gooey chocolate cupcakes you made in Standard 5
I found a Top of the Pops magazine under my bed and I hugged it, because that was one thing we did together
You know how to party in a good way
You like that I am a book geek, but never tease me about it
You make amazing tea!
You were always there...

SO... because you chose the best song in the world for me, here is my song to you!

Stupid Cupid

2011-02-14T19:48:00.000+02:00

This day rolls around every year like clockwork. You wake up; slap the “snooze” button more than once like any other morning and then it hits you! You smell the sickly sweet scent of “Cooochie-Coo” love. Yup, I can smell it on you love birds. You swoon and prance in the glow of love and wondrous, expensive chocolates and cheap (or expensive) hallmark memories.

Valentine’s day brings about a change in everyone; Men stressing on the perfect gift for their little someone special & Women eagerly awaiting that basket full of roses on her desk or the forbidden chocolate she will eat even though, she has to run 6kms the next day. I, on the other hand, will stoop sulkily past you, sneezing due to your overpowering “Love” perfume and curse Cupid the little devil.

Days like today make we want to:

Hide under my bed
Vomit
Calculate the amount of chocolate it would take for me to eat myself to death
Crawl into bed and stay there
Have a long bath
Read classic love stories
Not to relive the disastrous Valentines days experienced in my adolescence
Go to the beach
Eat cupcakes
Watch Casablanca

I dream up absurd “Things that could Happen” and needless to say it never ends up like the perfectly planned out dream. I sit on my knees and cash in my Cupid coupons with a plea for my Prince charming to come galloping by. It seems Cupid has other plans & a sense of humour for he never sends Prince charming but a god-honest idiot in tin foil with a fake rose in his mouth.

I was on my way home today and I slipped a blank CD into the drive and Natalie Cole’s, This will be, circa 1975, began blaring out of my speakers. I really love this song and immediately zoomed the windows down and began yelling my little heart out. Valentine’s Day yet again; you spent in the arms of you loved one – I spent it being hooked up to an ECG machine with a nurse who said “Lift that shirt dearie, you probably will be doing this more than once today it being Valentine’s day and all?” she even winked at me. Last year, I spent Valentine’s with a bottle of wine and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.

So what brought on one of the second biggest holidays, after Christmas, for card companies? Saint Valentine, a legendary priest or saint, pops up in various scripture of Roman and Catholic religion. The basic story is that Saint Valentine would hold secret marriage ceremonies for young lovers who were forbidden to Marry; very Friar Lawrence. When the Roman Emperor, Claudius the second, found out, Saint Valentine was jailed and sentenced to death. On the day of his execution, Valentine sent a handwritten card to his lover (the Jailers Daughter) which said “From your Valentine”.

It is all very Romeo & Juliet. But does love really happen? It should and it will. A friend once said to me “It’s when you stop looking, that’s when they come a knocking”

I think that you have to be completely comfortable with yourself more than you need to be comfortable with someone. For those lonely today because of Cupid’s humour; if it’s meant to be it’s meant to be, but in the meantime here are some tips:

Eat lots of chocolate
Buy yourself a Valentines gift
Give someone a gift (this doesn’t have to be someone you love but a friend)
Have a long bath
Buy a bottle of good wine
Watch Casablanca, There's Something About Mary, Gone with the Wind and for the scorned Chainsaw Massacre
Go out to dinner with your single friends
Go to a movie
Read Pride & Prejudice or Wuthering Heights
Make cupcakes

So while the world slips into a plume of love and desire, I am heading out for a long bath and to watch Casablanca.

Happy Valentine’s Day all

Fear - The Silent Predator

2011-02-06T15:29:00.000+02:00

Have you ever woken up blinded by sheer fear? Any shape or form; Fear wriggles you free from your slumber and slaps you wide-awake. Your body lurches forward and cold sweat is peppered on your forehead. You are shaken and shook every direction that Dr Seuss could possibly send you in one rhyme. You hold your breath; one silent intake of breath sucks in shards of icy air. Gulping air that tastes of your own fear, reminding you suddenly why you woke up in the first place.

I have woken up like this far too many times that I am comfortable with. I wake up shaking and cold, my blankets twisted into ropes at my feet and I am greeted with a hollow darkness that makes me want to scream for help. I adjust and everything looks normal, my books piled on my bedside table & my clothes on the floor are unmoved. I grapple to get my feet to the wooden floor; I need to get to a bathroom. Early hours of the morning are usually graced with these panic wake-up calls. What precedes these nocturnal frights? Fear...

I probably don’t make any sense whatsoever, but its fear that kicks me from my sleep. You know the fear I am talking about. Fear of success, Fear of failure, Fear of guilt, Fear of loneliness, Fear of the unknown, Fear of tragedy, Fear of death, Fear of people, Fear of spiders, water, germs etc. You sit up convince yourself that, whatever it is, it doesn’t exist and it’s all in your head. The voices will challenge you but you quieten them to dull whisper, but they still clench in your chest.

I am afraid of everything... Aren’t you?

I love this quote:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” First said by Marianne Williamson and then quoted by Nelson Mandela. So what are we really afraid of? Failure? Being a coward? Or being brilliant? This “Fear” leads us to fight harder or less, shapes how we react and increases our ambition.

There doesn’t seem to anyway we can stop fear from barging into our dreams, blind siding you at 2pm on a Thursday, yanking at your nerves, or hugging your family a little tighter...

“Jump in with both feet”

“Reach for the moon because you may land among the stars”

So many more cliché quotes and tales to overcome fear, but it’s easier said than done. A friend told me once “Seven breaths. That is all it takes”.

My advice is to sit feel scared because that shows you how much it means to you. Remember how you felt if you lost it then fight harder to keep it.

Till next time – Seven breaths is all it takes...

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE (Part 4)...

2011-01-18T21:04:00.000+02:00

Sean (Cousin) & Me

Sean & Me in Witbank

Coppin & Me

Terry, Sean, Tracey, Lexi & Morgan (Richards Bay Adventure)

Ethan & Kayla 1st day at school 2011 (Exception)

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE... (Part 3)

2011-01-14T12:53:00.000+02:00

Had a Mozambican Christmas and New year that brought in 2010

Some great Outings resulting in some embarrasing pics *Shrug*

Went to see Mamma Mia (Middle) and started a SPAM network at Work

The K club with Tarryn in the Blue

Left to Right: Grease, EB Wish List, Car Wash & Christmas Cupcakes

These two make me Laugh out Loud

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE... Part 2

2011-01-13T12:35:00.000+02:00

2010 Rocked because....

Sean, Myself, Fuzz & Tarryn

Tarryn, Fuzz & Myself

Reading more books in 2010

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE Part 1

2011-01-12T14:14:00.000+02:00

Cape Town Book Fair with Chris van Wyk

Watched Paddy Bouma Draw this

Hung out with Emma Chen - YUMMY FOOD

Great Author to the stories - Lawrence Anthony

Wanted to buy this for my Dad

Met Jodi Picoult

Ethan loves Dr Seuss

Organised my Bookshelf

Back by Popular Demand

2011-01-03T18:39:00.000+02:00

Well well well...

I am back! A year wiser, more papercuts, less a few tears and more grey hair, but I am back. I have no idea where to start or even how to start –I am a bit rusty when it comes to this whole Personal blogging thing.

It’s a new year and with a new digit comes a new blog. As you can see I have “Pimped” my blog and I really hope you like it! So as the blog is waxed and shined, so will Kelly! This is the year for promise-promise of new exciting adventures, quirky family dinners and hopefully new blog posts.

So to make it official here are some resolutions. I really don’t like the word RESOLUTION so lets call them goals!

1. Learn Portuguese – I started this early last year and always fell fast asleep on my bed with my iPod blaring and me waking up with a start 2 hours later with “Bon Diae” repeating in my ear. Let’s hope this year I get somewhere!

2. Start my Honours Degree – so begins the long haul of 2 years of studying and I sound sarcastic but I am actually excited about it! Learn and Earn Baby!

3. Save R500-00 for Mozambique – I want to be able to pay my share deposit for this glorious holiday without having to sell my body

4. Maintain a Grade Point Average of 65% - I am aiming low but I as a pure slacker would say “Aim low and never be disappointed” I mean that in a not so slacker way

5. One day a week is Kelly day – I Solemnly vow that one day a week will be dubbed “Kelly Day”. Whether I go out with friends , have a hot bath, read or drive to the shop; it will be my day!

Ok I gave you the watered down version but really have you read the other blog posts? They are a tad childish and naive....

So here is to more blogging and Kelly day!

Belong to Me by Marisa de los Santos

2010-07-25T18:05:00.000+02:00

Belong to Me

Marisa de los Santos

Book two down kids!

This is my favourite so far! A wondrous comeback of the lovable Cornelia Brown with her love for old movies and the big city. Now we find her 2 and half years later after the debut of Cornelia in Marisa de los Santos’ Loved Walked In. Tao & Cornelia are headed for the suburbs and while Tao works in Philadelphia, Cornelia attempts to make new friends but fails miserably. Piper is heading the front of making Cornelia feel as uncomfortable as possible in her new surroundings. While Lake, the polar opposite of Piper, has a 14 year-old genius son. These three women find themselves tangled in each other’s lives and when tragedy hits a swirl of drama and secrets begin to fall like coins out a wallet.

The storyline may not be the most intricate or thrilling; the writing of Marisa de los Santos is nothing short of superbly constructed and enthralling.

10 out of 10!

SOCCER FEVER

2010-06-06T10:30:00.000+02:00

Me blowing a Vuvuzela

With less than a week to go, Jo'burg seems the place to be during the Soccer World Cup 2010. The Fever is rife peeps! I spend an hour in traffic each morning watching cars idle slowly next to me covered windscreen to tire in flags of their Team! I drive the highway (R24) to the airport and see flags waving in the wind each pole standing proud with a different flag. THIS IS THE TIME TO BE IN.

Proudly supporting our "Hat Chosen" Teams: Portugal & Corte Ivore

I am no soccer fan; not knowing offside, onside, penalty and foul? I sit in front of the TV watching the Football blankly and admire a muscular player here and there (Come on girls – Hello Argentina?!). Anyway, you can imagine my dismay when work decided to be all Patriotic! We each dipped our hands into a hat pulling out a team we were to be a part of. Each team had a captain, had to learn the Diski, blow a Vuvuzela, engage in a football quiz and had to exert team spirit. Well being a white girl from a middle class suburban household, I wanted to cower under my desk and die slowly.

Needless to say I learnt the Diski (With Vigor), blew my first Vuvuzela, bought a Bafana Bafana shirt, took part (Silently) in a soccer quiz, and yelled and jeered for my team members. It was fun... I eve caught myself name dropping football players names!

Our Multinational flag on our roof

So now our middle class suburban house has a multinational flag waving proudly in our yard and I am excitedly making plans to visit various Fan Parks in JHB to watch the soccer. I feel like a lifelong fan – my Vuvuzela at the ready while wearing my Bafana Bafana shirt...!!!

Here we go

Feel it, it is here!!!!!!!

REBECCA BY DAPHNE DU MAURIER

2010-06-05T13:11:00.000+02:00

YES!!!! Can you believe it...?

I get to cross a book off my “To Read” list with great satisfaction...

Rebecca

Daphne Du Maurier, born 13 May 1907, was a playwright and English author. She was known for her scandalous love life; having an affair with Gertrude Lawrence and her attraction to Ellen Doubleday (her publishers wife). This illicit writer created works such as: September Tide, the Birds and other Stories and so on.

Rebecca is a story of a young woman who unexpectedly marries widower Maxim de Winter, a rich older man who she meets in Monte Carlo. Our heroine is smitten with Mr. de Winter and accepts the rather “rushed” proposal. He whisks her off to Manderley, a house with a reputation for grand parties and elegance. Maxim de Winter lost his wife Rebecca in violent ship wreck about eight months before. Our heroine is faced with the constant memory of Rebecca – who was infamous for her beauty, opulent parties and her “true-love” relationship with Max.

A truly well-crafted piece of writing and definantly deserves the hype of it being the top 50 books to read before you die. I loved it...

1 SATURDAY, 8 CUPS OF TEA, 6 SCARVES, 2 OLD DUCKS & 1 MUSICAL

2010-05-01T17:32:00.000+02:00

Scarves & Hairspray

It rains then it stops. I am on my 8th cup of Tea. It’s so dreary out in the open – like the world is sullen 14 year old teenage girl, crying over a broken heart.

I am trying to regain the remnants of my fractured social life but there are moments I catch myself thinking that there is one email at work URGENTLY needing me to attend to it, or the armful of manuscripts I bring home to catch up on but today I shoved it aside. I took the “OLD DUCKS” on a trip. My two grandmothers, both very different – One obsessed with beads and glitter and the Second the English-Proper, scone eating, sharp-tongued and blatantly honest. It was a trip on its own. I caught both gawking at Edith Venter (Who shops at Chinese Markets in Bruma) and how they convinced me to buy 6 scarves. What am I going to do with 6 Scarves????

Oh well I am now a proud owner of 6 scarves in various colours and patterns.

I am now wrapped up like a Russian refugee watching Hairspray. I love Hairspray. A fat girl gets her wish when she is allowed onto her favourite dance show. Let’s just say the Popular Girl Amber tries her utmost to make Tracey’s life miserable. What I love about this movie is that the Leading Man Link Larken, Amber’s Boyfriend, is just dreamy (Thank you Zac Efron) and ultimately he falls head over heels for Tracey. HA! But this isn’t a flippant love story of what seems far-fetched in our society but it also tells the story of the constant battle between races. It has its subtle humour and stand-up-and-dance songs. I love it – it fills me with a glow.

It seems I am settled for the night. The folks are out and silence descends on me – besides the musical montage I have parading through the TV speakers.

So wondrous winter be kind to my toes!!!

BACK IN 5 MINUTES

2010-04-28T19:20:00.000+02:00

Can you believe I am here behind my screen typing? Actually sitting here, cup of tea beside me, feet cold and frozen – nevertheless I am here typing to my heart’s content.

The past 5 months I haven’t blogged have been far from tedious and boring. I spent 3 weeks in Mozambique; the best holiday of my life. I returned tanned and still hung-over from 3 weeks of nothing but sun, sand, rum and sweat. I returned disappointed to experience that life was nothing like those carefree days on the coast of Mozambique. The rum tasted different, the sun wasn’t as hot and I didn’t see the people I had become so accustomed to as often as I liked. So I worked. I took one Olympic step and dived head first into a well of stress-filled work. Publishing. Some would say I had finally started my life – Finally staring into the belly of the beast called a Career. I have accomplished most my age haven’t – the title of two jobs (Which I try to do successfully). This is what I saw when I looked into the mirror. I saw an over-worked, uninspired and lonely 21 year-old who expected to conquer the world. They don’t teach you that sometimes dreams take time; one must perfect the dream before living it. So I slowly descended into a cocoon that had no breathing room and I wallowed (I tend to wallow or harp on something). I became difficult, lonely, irritated, exhausted and a BITCH.

I had my heart broken twice in succession. I naively allowed two men to sweep me off my size 8 feet and whisk me into heartbreak. I cried, felt alone, fought with everybody because according to me it was their fault and not mine. So I planned a trip. The Vaal. It was fun...

There is no way of predicting how your life will lay before you. You turn a corner and BOOM your life is sending you down roads and paths, you become friends with different people, you lose your closest friends at the snap of your fingers. This I would say is a cliché for Normal.

WOW I am all about the analysing life lately. My cousin is having a baby, in one word I am Excited about this. She looked after me during our adolescence and now I get to see her do what she did most of her childhood. I would prefer her to be more secure – Marriage, maybe older. But I think this explains what type of person she is; an independent, no qualms, sassy, determined woman. She has the entire family on the edge of their seats waiting for her to POP.

So here I am. I am sitting behind my computer screen hoping for a sms/call to confirm that my life hasn’t taken an unexpected turn. I am sitting here wishing for hot beaches, cheap booze, long nights, hard beds, heat so hot you melt and simplicity. I yearn for simplicity and dullness.

I have grey hairs readers! Time to count them!

21 GOING ON 18

2009-12-01T15:10:00.000+02:00

It’s been a pleasant couple of days that seemingly turned into weeks that in fact turned my mind to the promise I made weeks ago about blogging more often. UGH! Let’s just say not only have the weeks been fun, but they have blurred into events of parties, glow in the dark paint, drunken injuries, shopping and BOOKS and copious amounts of Alcohol. This is a shameful statement but yes. I have taken to the clubbing scene yet again in my life. I dress to impress (I even fork out a small fortune for make-up), fill my pocket with my hard earned cash and happily hand it over to any barman that sells alcohol or battery acid (Or so some of it tastes like battery acid).

I am a shameful and incredibly cheap drunk. I get 3 beers in and am ready to whip my clothes off at any song with a beat and contain profanities. Note: I may have the urge to whip clothes off but I actually don’t!!! This habit is becoming more of a schedule than habit or task. My cousin Tyrone pitches up and by 20h30 my hair is straightened and make-up strategically applied. We arrive at wherever it is we have decided on and with the speakers yelling a base beat at me I down a shooter, glug back a cider and my clouds and wow the world seems well again (That sounds like an addict writing, but reality is that alcohol does paint a pretty picture).

I may not have rhythm but by then I am a better dancer than anyone on “So you think you can Dance”. It’s a crazy feeling as people scream and go crazy when a song plays. They all move at the same time with ample energy that would out beat those energiser bunny adverts. By this time my ass has been pinched 4 times by drunken Kids (yes young boys who are probably getting drunk for the first time) and been offered anything from TIK to free sex by random people. Now I am sensible and don’t even acknowledge the offers I smile politely and reply “I already can go all night, no need for supplements thanks” they nod and walk away. I have to say drug dealers are somewhat understanding when you smile and tell them you are already high.

The rest of the night falls into the “Unknown category” of my memory. Shameful and hung-over I lift my head the next morning and vow violently that I will never drink again. Gosh!! My body hates me the next day. I always wake up with cigarette burns and bruises that ache days after and probably covered in some kind of glow in the dark paint.

I know I am too old to act like an 18 year old party animal, but sometimes it’s just irresistible.

FREE TO BLOG

2009-11-17T19:42:00.000+02:00

I am blogging, yes I am blogging. Blogging away to my heart’s content. This is not a requirement; it’s not some assignment or me bitching about an assignment; I am just blogging.

I have so much free time on my hands. Do realise the power I hold in my hands? I can do anything. Well not anything between the hours of 8am and 5pm. I have a job, a real life permanent job, a steady salary and responsibility. I can make coffee at 10am (because this is the ritual), I keep crunchies in the third drawer of my desk, I have a lunch break at 1pm and I can shop. This freedom is nothing like I have experienced before; it’s joyous compared to 10pm shifts and Sunday mornings.

These free evenings and weekends leave me pondering what to do next. I can gym, I can cook food, I have time to moisturise, I can do yoga, BLOG, I can read, write and sing, I can collect cats, join a nudist colony, train dogs, lay all forlorn on the couch, watch Big Bang Theory, collect ants and boil eggs. I love this...

So here I am ready to blog my heart out and expand the world of my reader and my own (hopefully). I will write and challenge myself to new ways of looking at the world (Oh god Kelly, get a grip).

Do I feel older, now that I am done with varsity?

In all honesty...NO! I am currently blogging and playing SIMS (I maybe in older in theory but not in practical). I still make excuses not to gym, and still cry like a baby – blubbering and howling. I certainly don’t act like a 21 year-old. Last night I dressed up in my mothers old 80s clothes and heels and clomped around the house like a supermodel...

And now I am finding new ways to entertain myself on the net... or should I intertainment? Hahaha... Ok we will forget that. Ah well if all else fails I will make myself some green tea (which is something pretty tastey) and divulge myself entirely in Marian Keyes.

See ya Bloggers....

Saving the World one “Blue-unknown-author-with-surrender-in-the-title” book at a time...

2009-11-15T18:06:00.000+02:00

This is my real life Justice League, like the original DC comic line up (Superman, Green Arrow, Batman, Aquaman, Flash, Martian Manhunter, and Wonder Woman): Jonathan, Simphiwe, Paul, Siphiwo, Shaun, Humbulani and Ayanda. Each superhero team comes with different personalities and talents of each member/hero and so this is with a bookstore and its night-staff team of booksellers.

Among the Bedford Booksellers (This is what we call ourselves) there is one straight guy out of three and five girls including myself. One is besotted with blood, one lives, breathes & bathes varsity, one is convinced she is psychic, one is a helluva diva, One lost and presumed crazy, and another just lost.

First there is Jonathan; he is the oldest of us booksellers at the ripe age of 22. He is a fancy gay man. He shimmies off to the theatre and dresses with more style than all the famous fashionistas working the catwalk. Jonathan has more B!@# in him than a menopausal woman on a major PMS binge.

Next is Simphiwe; this feisty, elegant girl is half my size and half boob. She, I hope this doesn’t offend anyone, is whiter than I am. She is loud and has some real big “I kill you” eyes. She uses the bookstore as her very own TV show, fashion show or auditions for Idols.

Paul is 18 & gay, trying his utmost to find his type of man and way in the world - within the bookstore, is besotted with anything sci-fi, copious amounts of blood and and did I mention Men? He stalks young boys between shelves and flirts shamelessly with anyone, women and men, under the age of 25 – see what I mean by lost and confused?

Siphiwo is a 27 year-old Zimbabwean mother, and way too qualified to be working in our measly bookshop - with a masters in Human Resources. She also claims to be a Sangoma and regularly illustrates our future vivaciously around the store as customers watch. When asked to read bones she claims KFC ran out of chicken bones for her to borrow?!

Then there is Shaun & Humbulani, the youngest and newest of the gang. These two are first years in their respective degrees. Shaun is a long-haired redhead, rocker who plays the guitar for a band named Empery. He was studying Law at Wits last week, but this week its photography and next week he will perhaps be zoology. Humbulani is a little more sensible and a tinsy bit of a prude, she is the little nerd among us and studies non-stop.

Ayanda is the newest of this case of brittle, basket case, booksellers I work with. She is quiet but can pop dirty words out of her mouth that would make a sailor blush. She has a tough time at home as she occasionally arrives at work covered in bruises and sporting torn eardrums or ruptured eye-vessels.

This is the real world. The book industry, with its barmy-basket-case-bookies, has opened my eyes to life outside my front door. This group has been through pretty tough times, individually and together. This is Bedford’s Booksellers that save the world one book at a time.

A READER’S ADDICTION: THE FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY

2009-10-19T07:42:00.000+02:00

I admit it... Ok! I did it...

So what...?

“I am twitching for my next fix...”

“Just one more, Oh come on...”

“It’s the thrill of the ride, man...”

I delight at how words throw me into a world of someone else’s conception. Reading is my habit, my LSD and my expensive dependence.

Hi, my name is Kelly and I am addicted to reading.

I have always been a reader. I would read two books a month in moderation, even reading socially (at a coffee shop or at the library). I begged for a library card when I was 8 and that was when I tasted my first words of Dr. Seuss, Roald Dahl & Aesop. You could say the library card became the dealer of my reading habit. I would sit back, relax and absorb.

It’s been almost 13 years since then; and I have slowly descended into a reading abyss. I have begun to narrow my reading entirely within the fictional genre. I read chicklit, classic, crime, humour, historical and fiction with a hint of magic. This addiction is taking over my life: I can’t leave the house without a paperbound world somewhere on my person, nor can I sleep without reading a page or seven. My father caught me one morning, shamelessly sitting between my bed and the wall, reading. At 4am. I hide volumes of books, bought on sales and at discount, in my cupboards to avoid explaining to friends and family where they came from or why I have more.

I have more books than I do clothes. In a heartbeat, I would sell the clothes off my back for a Dickens, Austen or even Bronte. I run my fingers along the, unbent or tortured, spine trying to figure out what story lies ahead of me. Do you see what I mean? My addiction is slowly tugging me into a world where reality no longer exists. I would merrily move to a Tuscan villa with nothing but boxes of books and maybe three bottles of wine (I won’t tell if you won’t).

Reading is my demon, or is it just one thing that allows me to see things from a different angle? Does reading strip my reality? Can reading define who I am? Will I compare real people to fictional characters?

The answer to all of the above is yes. Yes it allows me to see the world differently. Yes it strips my reality. Yes it defines who I am by what I read. Yes I compare real people to fictional characters.

“Sad” is what I hear you say. I have to disagree; I love reading and always have. I am proud that I get wrapped up and swooped up in the world of literature, paperbounds and the smell of a new book. Reading is who I am – even if it is the squirming, book-hiding, secret-reader that I am.

Hi, my name is Kelly and I am relapsed reading addict…

BOOKENDS OF SMOKEY DAYS = JOURNALISM PART 1

2009-10-09T13:27:00.000+02:00

I am that odd girl that roams the bookstores late at night (when they are still open of course), caressing the spines as they face out off the shelves and scowling notably at those loungers on the bookstore couches cracking the spines of books they won’t buy.

I work in a bookstore and maybe that is why I get easily irritated when I see a child hurl a Roald Dahl book across the store or have to answer the question, “Where is the Non-Fiction section?” I arrive at work ready to tackle savvy book club ladies (or “Ducks”) and squealing children, who spit gum between the pages of books, don’t always make it out the store and to the toilet in time, and play games like hide-and-seek and catchers among the shelves. I pull my work shirt over my head – the one that states my job title, “Bookseller”, and therefore has customers after me like ferocious hunters who have spotted their target, whenever I emerge on to the shop floor – and I am armed like Batman or Superman, ready to spread literacy– OK maybe not so nobly. I roam through binary coded sections, each alphabetised to perfection (well sometimes); it’s like I am protecting my own Gotham City.

I stand behind the counter typing away, like my 8 year-old self always fantasised about when I watched shop assistants while my mother shopped. I answer a barrage of questions coming at me from every angle – “No we don’t sell milk, bathroom scales and photo paper.” I have a task: the mountain of shelving is like my Lex Luther. This trolley stands with mounds of books threatening to buckle it; looming over me like a 20 storey skyscraper. I hear the newest trainee on our staff shriek as books are flung on top of her and suddenly it’s a war zone. Books soar in every direction and chaos reigns among the shelves.

We survive the shift, the entire 5 hours. We have packed/ shelved/ labelled and alphabetised books in sections that seem, as customers swoop in and rearrange carefully shelved titles, to have been created for some kind of James Bond mission. We shut the doors behind us, sporting new bruises and paper cuts that would put gang stabbings to shame. Each night is different, and this is the secret life of a Bedford Bookseller – Bedford’s own justice league.

BLOGGING FOR MARKS... SELL-OUT OR OVERACHIEVER???

2009-10-09T12:56:00.000+02:00

For Journalism this semester we have been encouraged to blog our pants off...

Since I have neglected this blog for long enough. I have vowed that whatever I blog on our Varsity intranet blog discussion thingy-majig, I will post here. Deal?

Ok a brief into what I am blogging about: Well Mike (my friend) said my life always insues wierd and thought-provoking situations so I am writing about being a Bookseller, hope you can keep your pants on for this ride... Woohoooo!!!!

Here goes kids, hold on tight. Time to sell books...

I WRITE THIS LETTER BECAUSE I MISS YOU...

2009-09-03T11:05:00.001+02:00

Ok so I found this letter while spring cleaning...

I found it in a tatty, old workbook of poems. The kind of book you write poetry or stories that scare you, "How did you ever feel like that? So happy or So sad?". I cried when I found this letter, I hope it doesn't depress you. It deserves to be immortalised, this letter helped me at the time get through a tricky situation and I feel you deserve (as my readers and friends) to read it and interpret it yourselves. I hope you understand why I posted it. So enough explaining...

I write this letter because I miss you.

I have always been the least ‘hardest’ of your grandchildren, crying at the drop of a dummy or from a pinch. It could be a curse; me loving too much or feeling too much. I actually don’t know why I am writing this letter to you, not that I don’t believe that you won’t know what I am saying or why (I don’t know why)? I guess it’s my way of saying I understand and hopefully softening your fears/ worries for everyone down here. Today seems later than what it really is, the sun is shining but the wind is icy; I can’t feel either on my skin. I am so tired, it’s laborious trying to smile and hug everyone; constantly convincing them everything is as it should be so that you are not the thing they are worrying about.

I saw her today, she looks tired. Her eyes are tear-stained and grey. She misses you more now, I think. She looks at me and her eyes glaze over like she would give anything is this world to have you here looking at her instead of me, that sounds terrible but I understand. I lost you too. I hope you don’t I think I am selfish, but I wish people would stop crying because I can’t cry anymore, it’s wearisome and exhausting. I am playing Frank Sinatra ‘The way you look tonight’. It reminds me of you. Did I mention that I miss you? Yes I did, sorry.

I cannot seem to remember your smell, was it musk or zest? Was your cheek rough or clean shaven? I do remember kissing you, on your cheek, goodnight the last time I saw you, I hope it wasn’t a quick pushed to the side one, as I rushed out to get on with better things. I should of sat with you longer, hugged you tighter and told you I loved you more (Oh gosh how cliché am I). I never got to know what you wanted to be when you were younger. Astronaut, Fireman, Investor; which one… I can’t remember? Did I ever ask?

This letter isn’t about me… I wrote it to let you know that even though it may look like we are barely keeping it together (we are very good actors) and that we barely miss you (which we do). It’s difficult but I think watching everyone pulling together and holding on tight, we can make it through. Just give us some time to miss you, and then we will get back to the things that are supposed to get done.

For now, just be with her. She needs you more and more. I have your picture somewhere and its time for me to find it. So I am sorry I have to leave you again, it seems I was always running out you, just forgive me ok?

I miss you; this is why I wrote this… Maybe I want to be writer… Maybe not… Just so you know.

Kelly Sue Ansara...

P.S I miss you more today...

ALL GROWED UP

2009-09-02T12:06:00.000+02:00

I am finally on holiday, or should we rather call it a study break. My weeks have calmed down drastically. Before I go any further, I have to say I am grateful for the wonderful 21^st I was allowed to have. It was truly amazing.

Now that I am 21, I have this urge to pay my way and clean my room. This feeling has never been present in my so cushy life, and now that I feel my age is adult I should start acting like an adult. I am in the process of buying a laptop (to look all presentable like), Reading adult books (Not the porn kind), sitting up straight, limiting myself in certain areas such as my health and spending. I feel adult so isn’t it natural to behave according to ones feelings? Now if I was an adult I would be able to answer that.

Now with this new feeling, acting and responsibility; I sat on my bed thinking “What now, Miss Kelly “Adult” Ansara?” So I spring cleaned. Yup I went out with the old and in with the new. Prepping the new person I have to become. Ok I know it sounds drastic and unconventional, but it feels good. It seems that cleaning my head has cleared my mind. I now have the energy to do a full practice of yoga without yawning. I have cleansed the Chakra or Karma (Whichever you feel comfortable with).

So now things are clean, I have now been given the divine ability to sit down and decide what it is I really want. So far, its been me wondering aimlessly finding my feet in new places with new people, deciding what I like and what I hate. Its different now, I want things that are bigger than me. They may seem pointless to you, but to me I feel this list of things can help me become a better me (Or is that a childish notion?).

I know happiness is the journey, and this point isn’t because I am far from being happy but because I want to ensure that my life is on a standard that allows me to be content. I don’t mean the state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy. I mean that no matter what is going on around me, I am able to say “Well, I have all these things around me that I am grateful for”… I want to be content.

I want Love, that sickening feeling that yanks your stomach from your mouth when you see THAT person walk away from you. I want someone to say to me “I can’t believe I can kiss you whenever I want, because I am YOURS”. Eeek, does this mean that with adulthood, Kelly becomes a Romantic *insert pulled face here*.

I want to be healthy, not the healthy that makes me look like a man. I mean healthy in a way that allows me to work hard (Challenge me) at something I want. I want to be thin (is that so bad)? I mean who doesn’t? Oh please don’t sigh with boredom, I love me remember!! But I do want to feel like running is a demon.

I need to succeed. I am not so naive that I don’t know that failure I inevitable, but I like to think that I am able to stand up and say “Right, that kicked my ass but eh lets take a different approach”

I don’t want to be mediocre! I want to be good at what I do. Handle things (Job, life, Love, friends) with flair and ease (It won’t be easy I realise). I want to make it look easy!

I want to be a published Author. It seems a rather far concept. I love books and I want people to love mine. *Thinks of things to write about*

It’s a short list, but I don’t want many things in life. If someone placed these aspects on a silver platter my shameful side would pop out say “Its mine Bitch”. I won’t deny that, but I will try not to leave anyone behind (hopefully those people want to come along with me!)

I hope this has inspired you in someway to make lists. BECAUSE THEY WORK!!!

I Heart Myself...<3

2009-08-18T21:54:00.000+02:00

I am in one of those moods. Where tears fall because a flower blossomed is the type of mood I am in. I am exhausted from this emotional rollercoaster that this year has been. I am currently forcing words out of me for my thank you speech at my 21^st. I am doing it now because two weeks will sneak up on me and frighten the nuts out of me. It’s hard thanking people for making things easy and happy. WHY??? Surely it should be easy “Thanks mom, you taught me never to depend on men”… “Dad you taught me to laugh, Thank you”. Why is it so hard to put it into words…*sigh*

I have always been on my own (Not in the feminist way) but its been me against the world. I was a blonde chubby-cheeked baby who only laughed when her Dad kissed her nose. That bonny baby is me. It occurred to me hiding has become my forte. At the age of 7, ridicule and I were best of friends. The chubby kid in the class is never the favourite. My Dad took this opportunity to teach me to have a sense of humour. The type where its ok to laugh at yourself but never at others, don’t get me wrong I am no comedian. He would sit me down and teach me jokes like: a string walks into a bar, the barman says “Hey aren’t you a piece of string” the string replies “I am a frayed not”. The fits of giggles rattled my chubby body and drew a crowd to my constant jokes in Grade 1. My mother on the other hand, knew the cruelty of being different – the tall girl. Well her daughter was The Fat girl. She taught me to work hard, no matter what. She would keep me up until 2am learning about Vasco Da Gama for a history test in Grade 5. I never got off the hook, I was either the best or I wasn’t. Sports weren’t my thing, neither was being popular, so I had to choose and Books and Brains became my thing.

This is where the hiding thing came into play. I didn’t have friends most of my primary school days. And only took 2 friends with me to high-school. No where near the most popular – was how High school started, the ridicule stopped and I began to find out things that I liked. I liked reading, studying, meeting new people, and talking. So high school started and I met fabulous talented people. I became out-spoken and began asking why? I told these lame jokes, which caught attention of most. I still would hide. Changing things about me to fit others. I wasn’t the pretty and popular but I knew a fair amount of people by the end of Matric. Matric! I found my calling COOKING… (Yeah right!!!, By the way that ended very quickly the calling of Cooking) I wanted to hide in a kitchen baking cakes and eating food. My body became the next thing I hid behind, “I can’t do that, I am fat”…. Bullshitter Kelly 101!!! Ok fine, I hated everything about myself, but eh would didn’t at some point. I started a diet that required me to inject a type of fat burner into the region of my stomach, leaving me bruised and aching, my hair fell out, I had gall stones; but hey I lost 25kgs in 2 months. I fitted into a purple diamante studded corset dress for my Matric dance and I owned it. I got attention for what I LOOKED like not what I was talking about. This is where I secretly went down hill. Not many know this, but as I was weaned off the fat burning injections I found other ways for my body to reject my food. Not my finest hour I might admit, but I am laying it all on the table now. I retched my food up and ate some more. This became harder and harder and eventually being the coward I am. I stopped and gained all the weight back, because now I had people around me who wanted to be around… Friends.

Then I got my first job. I was intimidated and enlightened at the same time. The books were the next thing I began to hide behind. If I am talking about books I am confident and boy do I own it. I made books my business and now it’s my passion.

I realised a while back that hiding behind things kills the person you are. I hid behind humour, weight, diets and books.

This blog isn’t about you (the reader) getting to know me, its about me getting to know me with you all there.

I finally like who I turned out to be; A fabulous, fat, funny, furiously fanatical female. Yes I have my days where each bit of me is disgusting. But today I love every inch of myself.

TRIPLE H...

2009-06-30T10:18:00.000+02:00

I know I have made a name for myself as “Emo-Wannabee”, so today is a blog of hope, humor, and a hundred words. We shall call this Triple H…

Hope
Humor
A Hundred words.

Where do I begin? I have been re-evaluating aspects of my life in and out during these holidays. You see, I am in my third year of varsity about to take on the world without lecturers, textbooks and now accepting the weird concepts of “Salary” and “Full Time Job”. I feel like I am beginning again. Deciding what I want from life and how to get it. The daunting aspect, we all face is never being good-enough. Oh I know this feeling… experienced it when that boy in the corner is dating the blonde a week after he rejected you, the look of a friends face as they choose someone else over you, or the loss of a job opportunity. We have all watched our worlds crumble (Or so we thought at the time it was) around us, thinking “What now?” Well what now???

That question is keeping me up at night, with swirling memories of the past and disappointment. WHAT NOW!?!!?!? Do I just ride the waves of “life” (Bad Metaphor…)? Or just wish to the powers that be, to give me whatever my deepest dreams are? I guess I will have to figure it out; I have gotten this far it has to count for something right?? Hope so (terror face).

Ok so for now I will sit in the Tyrant of chaos of moving, at my desk sipping my Creamy Butternut soup and work hard. I hope this Theory works out. If not then hey? I will cross that bridge when I get there…

Ok so now for humor, I am sitting in a noisy office that is in the midst’s of moving in the next week (You can imagine). I have single handedly managed to pack up my desk and sealed it only to realise all my stationery was in the box. I am currently writing with my fingers. This office is crazy… I am now off to the storeroom. I will probably lock myself in while holding the keys… *I shake my head at myself*

Ok and yes we made 379 words…

Triple H and away…

COVERED IN BIRD POOP!!!

2009-06-29T13:36:00.000+02:00

This is an Emo Blog. I am warning you. There is nothing particularly wrong, just a hint of disappointment (Due to my own lack of self-control and useless ability of hoping great things).

The first thing my grandfather taught, the one thing that seemed to stick with me the one thing that wasn’t the usual “Wash your hands” or “Wipe your Feet”; not that he was the nagging type, he left that for my Gran. He told me, one day sitting on the sunny porch of their small town-house, “You are your only friend. You work hard my girl (because that’s how he said things). Life isn’t crayons, you must know that, its going throw you on the floor and maybe birds will poop on you, but be your own friend and things may just work out”. I answered with the perplexed look of children unable to grasp the adult world. “Papa, I have Sera as a friend I don’t want to be alone” I was so sure of myself.
“Yes but what happens if she moved to another class” He thought he had me there…
“We would still be able to play at break” I knew I was too clever for him. “Fair enough, but birds are still going to poop on your head at break”. He smiled, closed his eyes and that’s where the conversation ended. I have to say, thinking about it I certainly agree.

Friends are going to move in and out, constantly leaving you behind in their lives or you leaving them behind. It sounds sad and rather heartless but if we all wanted the same things out of life. God it would be boring. I learnt this not through words or education or even by the words of Papa, I learnt through Reality. I have a constant hunger to be fulfilled. To feel complete, but by George bird poop all over me when I reach the top, knocking me down three steps. So I work harder, cry more, eat more, get irritated by the chomping of food and try to do everything better than the first time. During the stages of these extra doing times; I lack sleep, food, and a life. I leave my friends behind in the aftermath to find their own way in the world (Not that they wouldn’t make it without me). I miss them more and more the further I fall into my hole.

Then, I finally reach the top of the top-pest mountain smelling the yearning for the taste. I step on the step and what do I find… BIRD POOP!!! (Maybe not literally but you get my drift). My body aches from the hard work and toil only to be met with that sinking feeling of disappointment. I am met with at the bottom of the tumble are those friendly face I left behind; Some handing me a beer, others are just smiling and telling me how what I did wasn’t stupid, others jokingly adding a sarcastic snide (I love that feeling of comfort). Yeah ok, I am covered in Bird Poop but the favourite people in my life are laughing and joking about how I tripped and ripped my pants. I finally know, that no matter how much Bird Poop I encounter or which kinds those faces will meet me at the bottom of the hill and say “Hey, its good to see you”.

Hope life doesn’t cover you in Bird poop, and if it does hopefully you have faces smiling back at you…

WHAT TODAY HOLDS???

2009-06-24T08:08:00.000+02:00

Ok so now that I have time on my hands I can blog and blog to my hearts content. Well it all depends on how much I actually have to divulge to you the READER (Singular), or so I am assuming.

In the past couple of days I have managed to get locked in a dodgy store room filled with old smelling books. This is usually an appealing experience (in my mind) but with the addition of panic and a coughing fit induced by dust, this experience didn’t sit well with me. I have had 25 cups of tea, 2 bowls of high fiber bran, 2 jungle oats bars and still my stomach growls in anticipation for that little tid-bit (i.e. chocolate or crisps). I will fight the hunger. I have been viciously attacked by a set of large HEAVY security doors as they cam crashing down on my unsuspecting body, which now cries out in pain with every movement I make. It also left me looking like a sailor after a bar fight.

I gymed, this was due to a very inspiring blog on preserving youth written by a friend, after the 8th push up I was cursing that his first born is naughty as hell (As well as a child who BITES). Read 2 books, been screamed at by a crazy 80year-old driver and have, plus minus, 45 paper-cuts to-date. I have also packed 3 boxes larger than I am, and am now in the process of writing the greatest blog ever.

The office is quiet a-part from the chatting which is soothing at 8am in the morning. I arrived 40 minutes ago and am already counting the hours till I leave (You know carving lines into the desk like the prisoners do). I just want to be in bed. A truck must of driven over me last night, or why I am I aching with each thump of my pulse. ARGH! I mutter under my breath, followed by a yawn and a rusty, croaky “Good morning” to passers-by. Well let the day start. I can take it… YES I CAN.

That feeling, you know the one; the Lack-of-purpose suddenly taunts me. Well it’s now gone; instead the dark hand of dread has gripped its boney fingers inside my chest and taken hold of my “fairly” healthy heart. My results are still not out. I am freaking out just a tad. I have tried the 5 numbers they give you to call and have expressed violently at the voice prompt that I do need my results and do not care if they are in fact not a real person but in fact a computer, it is their job to help me. This is when I whip on that Amazon warrior outfit hanging in the back of my closet and set fire to the telephone for not doing as I have demanded. I agree this is a somewhat drastic approach, and so instead of following through I will instead make another cup of tea.

So here is to what today holds; Getting lost, musical theatre and copious amount of caffeine…

"TO DO AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE!"

2009-06-21T17:59:00.000+02:00

I have to apologise to the lack of posts. This has to be the most pathetic excuse and apology if I say so myself. How sad?

Anyway, exams are over and my life feels somewhat empty. I know, the psychologists out there have a name for it… something about post-studying syndrome. Your world disappears for mere seconds when you put that pen down in that last exam. You maybe excited, depending on your holiday plans, or indifferent; I am indifferent at the moment.

I finished my last exam for the semester on Wednesday, and yes I studied hard. I can feel it in my bones that tired stress seeping out into the air leaving that ache behind. After that things have been somewhat of a blur - from the keg, to sushi, to the OC, to MacDonald’s for lunch, to the amazing trip to Witbank. I feel my body slump into non-existence.

I sit at the computer way to fed-up to switch the light on. I lack energy. Nights are spent dreaming erratic dreams about brothers and travelling, the dreams tire me out. My eyes are heavy and tired, and its incredibly hard to squeeze the tea-bag in the mug next to me. I have wished for this feeling of nothing for almost 3 weeks and now its here I have no idea how to occupy my time. I have given up on washing socks, dishes and doing my hair 3 times a day, instead I talk incessantly to whoever is in the house around me (Irritating them to a point they walk away), facebook-ing is the essential item lately and books. These things keep me going.

I have just arrived home from Witbank. A country holiday that was enjoyable and had that hint of winter sun you revel in. The bed was bouncy and the pillows soft. Family as family can be (My grandmother nags constantly about vests and jackets and how without them we would all catch our death and DIE). The air clear, view amazing. It was great.

Everyone asks “What do you plan on doing this holiday?” My answer is “As little as possible” I fear I spoke to soon. You see my holiday isn’t even half way through and my brain is crying out for stimulation. Instead I hold my attention span by cutting slices of cheese slowly; each piece has to be the exact same size as well as the tomato and the ham is placed at right-angles on the bread. I am glad I have work to keep me busy this holiday! (Sad as it sounds but hey?)

So I am now off to find an activity that may require at least an hour of my time.

MISTAKABLY MANLY!!!!

2009-05-07T17:48:00.000+02:00

My life has been turned into something of a Hermits life. I have become this yoga-doing, tea drinking, yoghurt drinking, assignment doing, working recluse. I am on the edge. I am sleep-deprived and was denied a reviewing position because of my gender. Don’t get me wrong I find this all a tiny bit hilarious actually, I could fool them somehow a revealing picture (if you get my drift).

I have had many encounters this week from bunking class to hit the Wimpy for a Dagwood to completely letting procrastination take over. I seem to have developed this routine of just existing to do what needs to be done. I lack the fun and enthusiasm of the Kelly that once was. I sigh as I think this, maybe she went on a retreat. Yes on a Retreat!! This makes me think I am that exciting that my alter ego has to go on a retreat. Gender discrimination was also on the agenda this week, holding the “JOB” (if you want to call it that) of reviewing for a magazine at the tip of my nose and making me follow it for a week (this I call a TEASE!!!) then saying “Oh wait you aren’t a MAN”…. UHHHH No I never was and contrary to my GAY-Dar I don’t think I will be one in the foreseeable future? Is that a Problem? I laughed, felt disappointed, but eh? I AM WOMEN Rang through my head. YES I AM!! Things could be worse.

I crank up The Veronica’s, jump around and dance it off. The cure to everything dancing and Alcohol (Alcohol has to be used with dancing or one may look stupid). Ok so with my newfound energy, my brain clicks “LETS DO YOGA KELLY PLEASE!” it shouts back at me. I felt obliged. I yoga-ed!!! Yes I did. I was doing some or other Spinal Twist with my back screaming OW! I ignored feeling all liberated and all.

CLICK

SNAP

Yes that’s what my back did, and my legs went numb. I lay on the floor for like 10minutes like a dead fish, squirming. *sigh*… I know REALLY!!! Anyhow that was yoga session, I tried to study until my notes gave me a paper cut I decided this task was way too dangerous.

I am writing, not just my blog. I am trying my utmost to create a story that hits the hearts of millions (ugh so cliché). I want to write a novel so bad that it jolts me awake at 3am calling me to let my fingers do the walking. I wish I could just create. However it haunts me that some of the greatest writers of our time have either been Mad, Lonely, Alcoholics and mentally unstable, something to look forward too eh?

It is this subject and a friend’s small bout of unhappiness that allowed me to explore. Funny enough I was thinking about this while doing my Deadly Yoga Spinal Twist. The question haunts me “Will I be good enough?”, what I have learnt so far that I am not a Man, not to do the Deadly Yoga Twist, yoghurt is tasty especially the Woolworths kind and dancing fixes all problems.

I guess we all have to take it one step at a time, gather what we have learnt and file for the next time. Especially when you want to contort yourself in a Deadly Yoga Spinal Twist!

THE DAY I VOTED...

2009-04-23T11:00:00.000+02:00

I voted. I made history and voted for the first time in my life.

In the build up to the elections we all watched posters of smiling people with a message to heighten votes. I wish they had let me take photos. I wanted to show this to my kids. “THE DAY YOUR MOM FIRST VOTED” – that would be the title of the album. I watched the posters fill sidewalk lamps and couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. I am way too young to be allowed to make a decision like this. I can’t change the future just yet. Who would I vote for? Why should I vote? Would I make a difference? I mean I am only one person. It drove me mad!!!

I pulled myself out of bed on the 22nd of April 2009 at 06h45 in the morning to my father yelling the importance of democracy and showering, this coming from the man who is also voting for the first time since the new I.D books and who almost was arrested for peeing in public. I layered on the clothes (one must keep warm). I felt like it was the day of a Matric final. When your stomach fills with those crawly worms and the sense of nausea takes over and dominates. I still didn’t know who I wanted to vote for. I had spent an entire month researching the different parties finding the perfect one for me. Similar to finding the perfect car, I wanted one that suited me and would bring out the best in me as a South African. I found one, but wow did I doubt it that morning. This is where the hyperventilating came in.

Why would it matter? I was only a 20 year-old student who didn’t contribute that much to a country filled with people who would probably be more worthy to cast the vote.

I stood in the line for 2 ½ hours, in the freezing cold and standing there I realised that the person in front of me, and the 70 year-old grandmother behind me, felt the same way. I wasn’t alone. I felt a sense of solidarity to these people in my community, and yes there were many. I wanted to gather them up and sit in a circle singing camp fire songs. My father refused to stand in the long line, but opted for a more “Lets leave them to keep my place” tactic and so when he was warm and fully fed he drove past every 10 minutes to see how much further we had gotten. The one round he did my mother bolted like a panther on food and both graciously left a panicked Kelly in this line. So much for “Don’t worry Kelly we are here with you every step of the way” Uh nice. I learnt that Food and coffee are thicker than blood.

We finally got to the front and I wanted to do this. People died so I could do this. I felt like this is what I was born to do. I was marked and literally begged “the inker-man” for a smiley and not a line, his response “Eish, I might be Fired”. Confident and slightly intimidated I took my sheets filled with colorful pictures and various names of parties that in my research hadn’t come up. What if they were the perfect party? This is where my knees went weak. So I just went with the gut feeling people talk about. I did it. I voted. I made my mark. As I appeared from the booth I expected a marching band and glitter confetti to pour from the sky around me. It didn’t, but I somehow I felt I made a difference. The intimidation dissolved and instead I felt South African. Though born and bred here, I wanted to hug the ground and feel the sand talk. I shoved my vote in and shook the box to make sure it was in properly. Ok it was a stressful day OK.

Voting taught me to have more than an opinion it encouraged me to look for what I wanted. Today I became a South African and I have the mark to prove it (it is wearing off though?)

P.S Thank you to Kelly Cowan for awesome editing skills and awesome word techniques. I adapted this already written piece for my blog.

Power to the Kelly’s.

JUST PLAIN VANILLA

2009-04-20T21:21:00.000+02:00

I am sitting in this weird room; I call a study, with a pencil between my teeth. This room disguised to look like its being used when we all know that it’s just the result of years of procrastination. Ok so you may ask “Why do you have a pencil between your teeth?” or for the not so bright readers “What’s procrastination?” and so you sms the new SABC number for the dictionary definition RIGHT TO YOUR PHONE! Uuuuuuhhhhhhhh? I have no comment for that.

I am sitting gracefully here with a pencil between my teeth, with a very cunning plan in mind. I am planning to trick my mind into thinking I am living a life of elation. Don’t get me wrong I am not going to bitch how sad I feel, and want to yank the veins from my head through my ears and then still wonder who would miss me. 1) It sounds disgusting and I think I actually vomited with my own description. 2) I am as coward they come… I sliced my finger today cutting toast, and as I type it tentatively lies above the rest of the fingers refusing to work and with every movement it burns and tears run down my face. SEE, I would probably be too scared to hang myself because I am afraid of heights. Yeah I know.

Now for my cunning plan, this plan involves holding the smile for long enough to tell the little neuron’s in my head (if there are any) that ‘I AM HAPPY’ the kind of happy that has me skipping and doing the ‘twist’. Well so far it’s given me the VOOMA to write this pretty lame blog. I am in one of those moods where I am not sad but not happy, the crazy feeling of being just VANILLA the plain variation with no gooey chocolate surprise centre or extra astros. The unfathomable notions of just existing you know. If someone cried I would just stare like a crazy person and mutter under my breath “I’ll never tell” in a whiney high pitched whisper that sends shivers down spines and if someone laughed I would probably walk out the room…

To summon up a giggle a tear whatever the great universe will give me, I yanked some toilet paper off the roll wet it. This made a sense of mischievous thrill run through my veins as I flung in up and it hit the ceiling. My mother walked in yelled like a banshee screaming its attack on a child with rotting flesh. I had to climb a ladder clean it off and standing teetering almost 500m in the air (ok I mean like 0,5m) seemed like death held my throat over a cliff ready to plunge me to kingdom come. Hey I felt something, near death experience Check. My mother made my favourite food Babooti, yes and yellow rice. Feeling the curry-ness fill my nose and burst in my mouth… I felt love Check. Watched Grey’s Anatomy, one word SAD Check. The talk of a steers bacon, cheese and tomato sandwich made my, already full with glistening yummy egg and mince pie thing, stomach grumble… Lust Check.

I don’t want plain Vanilla anymore so in an attempt to find the secret surprise in my delicious saucy life, I am off to bath. Wash my boringness away….

Ok so my emotions are still intact. Well experiment over.

THE FAT-KID CLUB

2009-03-25T19:49:00.000+02:00

Laying on the couch, coughing up a lung, the OC snapping scene for scene on the TV, my blanket is kicked off then yanked back on again. This is how 4 hours of my day was spent, my throat is raw and every time I cough it tastes like blood is hurdling itself up into my mouth. The hot and cold flushes cause my mother to yank me into the shower and flip the tap, every 2 minutes, changing temperature; this may be making me sicker but it felt good. I moan like a 5 year old and my mother hushes me and says;
“Its fine, it will be fine”
And being dramatic and all I moan in-between fits of coughS and two temperature changes
“Will it really!”
I look down to my oh-so lumpy body that in my mind looks twice the size it really is.

YES I AM TALKING ABOUT THIS!!! So either stick around and read it or close the link.

I was told a couple of weeks ago that a very good friend of mine recommended my blog to someone who needed some ‘help’, I was a bit apprehensive about this statement, as ‘helping’ isn’t my forte. I felt slight pressure because I have no clue how to help myself let alone someone who probably won’t appreciate the slight humour I add to some harsh issues in some peoples lives.

I have commented on my weight but this is something I just need to talk about, because there is something about sitting on a bathroom floor sick as a dog, with only your mother to make you feel better than amazing. To me that was the moment where my head said “this is probably as good as it gets”. I sat there looking down at my knees hunched up to my chest and felt the cellulite on my thighs, then ran my the back of my hand against my pocked skin on my face and knew that this isn’t what perfect should feel or even look like. And as a baby I sobbed, who would want this? Not me that’s for sure…

I get that some of you are saying “Really, you are such a baby”, “Get over yourself”, “You got yourself here, join a gym” or you will be “shame poor thing, let me leave a comment to make it go away”. But it won’t go away because most of you out there have never felt what its like to be F-word, the few of you that have may comment. I am not saying life begrudged me in someway, but society did.

You see I bet most of you haven’t sat at a family dinner talking about how ‘Kelly ate 3 potatoes’ because if she ate 2 her ass wouldn’t be lumpy and huge. You don’t have to visit doctors who inject you with a fat burning serum that bruises your stomach so badly you can’t sit, makes your hair fall out, gives you gall stones, or makes you vomit when you eat 20 calories too much; all this just to fit into a decent Matric dance dress. You don’t spend hours searching for a basic t-shirt that fits. You don’t know what its like to feel the empty hole inside your chest blow open because you know lonely is probably going to define you amongst your friends or even visit a plastic surgeon whose response is “You’re too fat, it would never work”

Being overweight isn’t all that bad. Sitting on the shower floor, I recall sending a message to my best friend Shaun on Valentines Day saying:

“Be honest, I know I am not perfect. What can I change that can make things change…Kelly”

Two days later he called me his reply:

“You don’t change a dam thing understand, you stay perfect because that’s what you are”

Yeah, sometimes this isn’t what we “fat-kids” like to hear from good-looking people. However, hearing it then made the world right.

I have no clue where this blog is going to be honest, but I wanted to write it; actually I NEEDED to write it. Write what you know, that’s what I am told and being Fat is what I know.

I can’t change what I am or who I am and yeah I am not a supermodel, nor do I want to be one. If life deals you a shitty hand cheat your way out and see what happens. What I mean is… and I have seen cousins, friends and strangers battle with weight and perfection. I say don’t yo-yo diet, enjoy life and eat proportionally, exercise regularly. DON’T STARVE, food is there to be eaten; but you want to look healthy then eat the right things. Don’t know what they are speak to a doctor or do research, don’t binge eat then throw up, and remember YOU ARE NOT AS FAT AS YOU IMAGINE.

I can’t promise things will be fine, nor can I promise that your life will end up just like you planned. You may have 5 cats or 5 kids, but just enjoy what you have. I am not a perfect role model to give advice, I would choose a burger over a salad, but just be what you need to be. You have great people around to make you feel great and if you don’t find ones that do.

I hope I didn’t depress you all too much, but join the Fat-Kid club you’re worth it.

KARMA'S B!@#...

2009-03-20T12:47:00.000+02:00

An Emotional state experienced upon having an unacceptable act or condition witnessed by or revealed to others.

I bunked my class today. I got out of bed, got dressed did the whole hoo-ha breakfast I am pretending to be healthy thing; took my medicine sat on the couch to regain the stability that the meds take away (dizzy world) and I didn’t get up. I could have easily made my class but for some reason I felt it best that the universe take a break from screwing with me. Yeah yeah, I am not bitching but really… Surely you have had those moments where you stand in the middle of a shopping centre, arms spread wide, head facing the heavens and you scream “Seriously, COME ON!”.

Those moments where you realise that someone up and above is screwing with your Karma. I seem to be the expert at these moments, I get caught in the whole twisty turn motions of embarrassment and downright “Don’t do that, you just embarrassed everyone” look.

Ok so here are just a few case studies to prove my point:
(Please note these are true stories)…

I went to see the doctor, she sent me on my way to yet another doctor but not before she took her pound of flesh, and blood at 7am on a Saturday morning. She hands me to a shaky nurse who tells me boldly she hasn’t had her caffeine intake for the morning, while telling me about her sons preschool learning problems she jabs the needle into my unsuspecting arm, which flinches at the sudden happenings, she sucks in her breath. I turn to look at my newest war wound and my eyes BULGE… you know that WTF? Moment we have, well this happened when instead of the blood flowing happily into a tube for testing; it was flowing over the needle and down my skin. OUCH!

Doctor Visit #2: this women and I crossed borders that I don’t think my parents, who have been together for 22 years, have crossed. She makes me strip naked, down the undies, in a cold room with a gown that has more straps and knots imaginable to man. I felt like a 16 year old virgin male trying to figure out the bra… Ok so figured out. She says: “Hop up up UP” as she pats the examining table lined with this creepy crinkling plastic. After this struggle of trying to cover and block she runs an ear bud up my thighs… REALLY I go to the Keg for this not a doctor. She shines lights in my ears my eyes and nose, knocks the hammer here and there, and makes me do squats in this hideous gown around the room. She then says: “Okay… I need a wee wee sample.” As I mentioned this woman and I crossed boundaries. Right so this is going to help me, this is what I am thinking as I walk out the bathroom in this breezy gown, after squatting and peeing in a cup while wearing surgical gloves (which I threw away)and scrubbed the tub and my hands with some bathroom jik from the cleaning lady. I walk out and walk flat bang into a somewhat cute MALE nurse, this sudden fright causes me to drop the pee which he catches and hands back to me then he says "Have a nice day"; was that a pick up line?. REALLY!!!!

Next little adventure…

There is this cute guy (there always is), his hair is wavy and brown, his skin dark and all exotic like. He works at the printing shop near the local spar, well I pass this shop for my delight of heaven each time I visit the bank. I have even caught myself giving them a call every now and then to hear his voice. I don’t stalk him ok…
Well anyway, on my regular trips to the bank I pass the open shop his hair whips in the wind and I catch myself in a montage of old romantic movies with myself and my prince charming the whole Ka-toot. So on my way back he looks up from his desk and my world freezes as his eyes lock with mine, I get lost in the chocolate brown of his eyes as he smiles at me. HE SMILED, full on smile. AND…
I trip. The front of my shoe hits a tile that is 0.005mm out and I head straight for my fate. I TRIP! The big STUMBLE. Come on this is me we are talking about; I can handle a trip… HA but Karma hates me, and I not only trip but I trip head first into an 85year old lady carrying everything and anything of her groceries. Her things go tumbling and too embarrassed I kept walking.

Sometimes I wonder if it is all in my head. Karma has her way with me everyday and she slaps me silly everyday, from snorting beer up my nose, awkward silences of things I have said to the Journalism department losing my test paper.

Ok so now I am going to meditate or even try making peace oh lady karma. Hope you laughed…

20 THINGS TO MAKE MY IMAGINATION TAKE OVER ...

2009-03-05T21:04:00.000+02:00

Today I am allowing my imagination to take over….

I realised procrastination is what stands in the way of the wonderful sexy number at the end of each term… that achievable 80…

Instead of studying Random Simple Sampling, or Quota Sampling I will tear open a bag of Big Korn Bites a cup of tea or oros depending on the mood, open the windows and dream of little things.

1. Like the smells of France in my new châteaux and how I would feel on a night sitting watching the sun set with the taste of a robust red wine swimming between my teeth.

2. The feeling of power behind a typewriter as it clanks and chitters away at each punch of the imprinted letter. That power of creating a story, someone out there will get lost in and enjoy and inspire. I will open my eyes and feel exhilarated and smell the smells and hear the sounds and taste the tastes.

3. I dream of being a Rockstar. Shedding my weight and rocking it up on stage, feeling the adrenaline of the crowd. My sweaty face red with exhaustion and the need to sing louder and harder, as I create notes known to no one not even Beethoven.

4. I want to dress up in a designer labels and walk the red carpet greeting Nathan Lane and conversing with Hugh Jackman. I want front row seats to a Broadway musical and have Oprah beg me to be on her show.

5. I want to dance between wild flowers of a field in a white dress of cotton, feel the wind on my tongue and hear the faint buzzing of bees. To fall among the grass and pretend to be the only person on earth, wishing the silence would stay.

6. I want to be a Pirate, swigging my sword on the edge of the boat to get what I wanted. To feel the rum pass through me on a cold night and yearn for discovery, as the night stars map out my journey. I want to face death and laugh with my sword in one had and my crew behind me.

7. I want to know what its like to fall in love, to share your day with someone who cares about what you think. I want to love someone who infuriates me and inspires me, sitting on the porch talking of nothing but what we feel. I wouldn’t need poems or flowers just the thought.

8..I want to be thin, thin enough that shopping isn’t a chore to find the right size but a pleasurable experience to be with my friends. I don’t want to be self conscious all the time or spend 3 hours getting ready because make up covers it all.

9. I don’t want to have to fight for what I want all the time, even the last pair of socks at the store. I will work for what I want No doubt but to fight for it to stay within grasp is more than the mission of Christopher Columbus.

10. I want to live in a time where War, Rape, Murder and Hate are NOT regular words used everyday. Where children are fighting for freedom or the chance to get an education or even have to find other ways to achieve things because of the colour of your skin.

11. I want you to see me happy without you, because for once I want to win the battle. I want you to see me and think ‘Wow, I missed out’ and have that lonliness hit you like a ton of bricks.

12. I want to sing in my car for no reason. Feel the exhilaration of just being free for only those 5 minutes

13. I want to be a Ballerina, Princess, an Astronaut, a Banker, a Fashion Designer, a Writer, an Artist, an Actor, and Star in a Musical all at the same time.

14. I want to meet the Beatles, Queen, and Pink Floyd.

15. I want my friends to know how much they actually mean to me, because they do. I don’t tell them but I hope in someway they know.

16. I want to make a difference, by knowing how…

17. I don’t want to be so clumsy anymore. I want things to work out in logical sequencing and hope it turns out like that. Tripping, snorting cold drink, breaking things cant be my only talents…

18. I want my Grandfather to still be alive, hear his voice and smell his aftershave.

19. I don’t want Regrets…

20. I want you to read this, and take something away. I would love it if you put in the comments field things you want….

These are the Things I want….Selfish of me I know. I like outlining the things I want and the things I need….

:D

RAGING FROM MINOR IRRITATION

2009-02-04T21:59:00.000+02:00

Ok so Pure anger in its rarest…

The type that yanks your bones, twitches your face and makes you think slamming doors is the most effective way to send the non verbal cues to the instigator. Have you ever been so angry that a sensible act, in that condition, is sending your pumped up fist into a haggard wall that could ultimately break or damage it.

I know what its like to be this angry screaming out in frustration, slamming doors, storming off and hitting walls (yes I am the hulk). I grew up/ growing up in a ‘Passionate’ family, I say passionate lightly. We are fighters, mainly with others and in what we want in life, but when we turn on each other we are like 5 cheerleaders at a Bergdorf’s sale over one dress. It’s not pretty.

Why am I writing this dam blog about ANGER I mean really, people dying in wars due to delayed and unresolved anger. It’s a childish act; it really is it’s the thing you see on SUPERNANNY UK on channel 180 on a Wednesday.

Its just today I got home, grueling day… Watching third years being mulled by a lecturer for being late isn’t pretty, and being demoted all in one day can be a challenge to stay in a good mood, not to mention that being a third year gives only one benefit; to park on campus… which is so full anyway you end up parking further away than you normally would.

So it was a build up of things. My aunt is coming to JHB from her snug suburban household in Cape Town to party with her much missed relatives. So being the nice person I offer to pick her up from the airport ultimately (all unknown to me) pissing off my Grandmother and Mother (NOTE: Not a good thing) who were wanting to spend the day with her. Ahhh! That’s what I was saying, when my mother SHOUTED not shouted… she screamed and yelled and let hell’s fury reign supreme upon our earth. (I swear the devil himself had dinner with me tonight). I held it in guys; I really did… till she said my job was as easy as pie. WHAT DID MY JOB HAVE TO DO WITH THIS??? But that was me. I get I don’t have the most grueling, disgusting jobs ever but still I work dam hard with people who work dam hard and I also let my share of hell out on a leash.

But because I am the least lucky of all, I rush up the passage slip on my arse BAM SPLAT (Mother laughing, the evil laugh saying “yes I did that”). I gather myself and the lump on my already lumpy arse tightening and forming a bruise (god I thank you for not giving me a Gynie appointment as I would look like a kinky crack whore), I slam the door almost catching two fingers instead catching the epidermis of one and making me howl in pain. I stub my dam toe, lean against the wall gathering the pain to one area. Flop on my bed and the bottom left foot gives out and BAM lopsided bed. This is when I scream to the heavens “Come on”, needless to say I am still fetching my aunt then taking her to my Grandmother’s house for endless amounts of food to add to my already HIPS not hips, then escorting her home to my mother so she can do renditions of Rod Stewart and Mamma Mia while drinking Tea.

These are moments I relish in… nope not really. *sigh*

Lesson of the story: Never be the nice girl, THEY ALWAYS FINISH LAST.

TAKING INVENTORY IN 10 THINGS

2009-02-03T15:27:00.000+02:00

Ok so I was perusing a friend’s blog about childhood dreams and how reality kicks us up the arse in one fowl swoop when we get older. This blog made me rummage through old Matric textbooks lunging books everywhere across my floor until I found a rather well written speech from Grade 11 about dreams and my opening quote was the last closing lines from the The Great Gatsby… In fact some on my favourite words ever written on paper.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter-tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther…And one fine morning-so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

So feeling inspired I gathered some snips and snaps that I have been gathering over the last few weeks. I don’t usually set myself resolutions for a new year as I always let myself down last years resolution was to study harder and drink less… we all know that was never taken to heart. So I let myself experience what the new year has for me, take inventory of all the useless, stupid, gratifying, amazing, down right disgusting moments of the previous year and see what I can do to improve or reenact the moments that make KELLY a better person.

Here goes:

Calla
1. Responsibility

2. Love
3. Friendship - old and new
4. Loyalty
5. Patience
6. Imagination
7. Determination
8. Belief - not really a spiritual or religious belief, more of a basic, simpler one, just in ourselves
9. Pride in others
10. Fun

Paul
What I have learnt so far:

1. Love hurts - enough said

2. You should never expect people to understand you or accept you; it just leads to disappointment

3. The best thing about working in retail is being able to stare/stalk/grope some fucking sexy guys :-)

4. Never open yourself up completely to another person unless you are 110% sure

5. The happiness of others is far more enjoyable than my own

Michael
1. Life goes on, even if you feel really bad, like if you misread the day of a final exam.
2. Prosperity can come and go in a flash.
3. Friends will come and go.
4. Loving what you study makes it not so bad.
5. Making lists like this is hard :)
6. There are many different ways to have fun with friends. It doesn't have to be about alcohol all the time.
7. Sometimes the opportunities fall into our laps. Other times we have to move our laps.
8. Sometimes Christmas presents go unappreciated and unreciprocated. (My brother hasn't read my gift, and didn't get my anything).
9. Turning 21 doesn't feel much different to any other birthday, except the hangover is generally worse.
10. Petrol can be expensive, but somehow I always managed to get around.

Sean
1. To not to take life too seriously.
2. Try something new, something that you wouldn't have done a year ago.
3. Change at least one bad habit, and really make it work.
4. Be patient with love and friendships, these things happen when the time is right.
5. Stop being so shy and stop worrying about what other people think, make yourself happy for a change.
6. Make an effort to say Hello to a stranger, and hopefully make a new friend.
7. be grateful, but truly APPRECIATE, everything that you have.
8. Tell someone that you love them at least once a day.
9. Take time to be alone. You don't always have to be around people.
10. Pride and boasting is dangerous, so watch out for it.

Kelly C
1. I learnt to forgive myself, and hence have pretty much squashed most of my regrets.
2. I learnt that I can't fix anyone. I can only let them observe me living my beliefs.
3. I dated men I wouldn't usually date, and learnt something new about myself from each of those experiences.
4. I focused on surrounding myself with allies: people who help me grow and unfold. I actively minimised my contact with friends who drained me or had negative energy.
5. I realised that my favourite person in the world is actually me, and that I am pretty damn awesome.
6. I realised that just because people like me, doesn't mean I have to like them (and of course, vice versa).
7. I spent a lot of time alone, because I really need and appreciate my own company.
8. I learnt to separate myself from what are my own issues and what are other people's issues; and now can let things go easier, because I can recognise what is not actually my problem (and hence no longer internalise things). And of course, I can try not to let my issues affect other people unfairly.
9. My sister went to America for 3 months. I did not realise how much I would miss her until she was gone. We are closer now than we have ever been (and we were pretty close before she left).
10. Last year, I went on my first long-distance flight. I was so excited, I even have a picture of me eating aeroplane food and loving it.

Now these are mine
I have effectively reached all my possible goals academically and now my dreams are somewhat visual.
I saved up for two years to buy something and I did it. This makes me feel like I did something great for the world
I had my First accident and speeding fine that followed two days after I got my car back
I went on my first holiday without my parents and their money.
I single handedly removed myself from the social scene to get ahead in my TO-BE Career. I hated it, but it helped
I cannot remember my birthday. I take this as a good sign.
I embarrassed myself and LIVED yes alive and kicking….
I stood up for myself. This is something that hardly happens but I did it.
I spontaneously traveled, one day I was in JHB and the next I was in Richards Bay.
I also sported a black eye (I brought it into fashion).

This is my inventory for 2008, 2009 holds endless possibilities that are unforeseen. I can however; guarantee that there will be times that aren’t sugar powdered biscuits and more than one day I will hate being out of bed, but it’s the ugly pictures that get us from one memorable moment to the next – those are the times that shape us.

SO make life your play dough BUT DON’T EAT IT.

PIZZA SLICES AND GOLDEN NUGGETS

2009-01-06T19:02:00.000+02:00

A friend of mine gave me this piece of advice the other day. I did something stupid, well not stupid but it sure felt like something stupid. You know the type of STUPID that will make you dive into a pool of flesh hungry piranha’s, or have the comfort of a rabid bear mull your face off.

I will get to the stupidity soon enough.

This piece of advice, knocked my socks off into the New Year and actually made me feel like I had somehow accomplished something with this Stooopid act of mine.

Friend: "I am so proud of you, - "

Kelly: GROAN

Friend: "No Really I am, you don’t understand how brave you are. You feel stupid now but in a few minutes after I sprinkle you with my magic fairy advice you will feel like – "

Kelly: "Ah come on I think running naked through my high school in front of my family, with everything bare as the day I was born, wouldn’t make me feel as Stoopid as I do now"

Friend: "SHUT UP, listen you are (Here comes the advice) going to look at this episode of you life and think wow that wasn’t even a third of a slice of that delicious PIZZA, Regina to be precise, that we call LIFE"

Kelly: Sigh "I feel like Pizza now"

Friend: "No really this is such a small thing, people do this kind of thing every day. I am so proud of you." Silence
"Hold on I gotta run I think my house is on fire, Toodles"

Ok so the incredibly stupid thing is…

I got drunk and told my feelings to a poor unsuspecting sod, who caught my eye. This isn’t to berate him or curse his skull to have Dandruff for all eternity or even to give my readers his address to egg his house. I just wanted to tell you. This is my blog after all and what I write is what I like (Steve Biko inspires me).

It went something like this: Dark little pub with family, eating and drinking simultaneously. Kelly gets an idea, with Eminem rapping in her head “Cleaning out my closet”, she decides well lets clean the cobwebs. Sweep Sweep. Beep Beep. Delievered. SMS sent. WHAT!!!

I am dumping for the new year. I am tired of waiting for you to realise I could ROCK YOUR WORLD. Friendship is best. K.

Slap me please. Why am I such a loser?

Anyway, its done and this poor guy probally got such a fright. His reply:

You a great girl, you know you are. I am seeing someone now. I don’t pick up on these things. SORRY. No burning bridges ok, we are still friends.

Seriously, why do I do this to myself?

I never expected a love poem I knew he wouldn’t say YES or HELLO NURSE. I knew full well that he was in another world compared to me, and that’s fine. So laughing hysterically on the phone before being given this golden nugget of advice.

I actually disgarded the stupid and embraced the relief. I now realise it wasn’t him I wanted, it was the idea. Come on, its those American films that brain wash us like this.

But my biggest concern is, I still want to talk to him and if I do he will think I am trying, yet again, to get his attention for more than Just friendship. Honestly, I feel more messed up than I thought. *sigh*.

I feel fantastic, not moopy or stupid, its this weight that has drifted. I am swimming not Drowning.

Ok well now I have said my say.

OFF TO EAT MORE OF THAT DELICIOUS PIZZA OF LIFE.

CONDITION OF SOLITUDE...

2008-12-29T08:24:00.000+02:00

I don’t understand what the big deal is…

Being alone is actually wonderful, that sense of peace and homeyness with ones self that you may not be able to get from someone else.

Ok this is where the story begins…

My folks are off to Zimbabwe; my dad loves the whole ‘adventure’ holiday thing. So I get the house for an entire 4 days TO MYSELF and with my Gran in Richards Bay, some would think this the perfect Christmas gift. The last time I had the house to myself, it has always ended up with 5 or more people getting drunk and passing out in my bed or doing the nasty behind the maids quarters.

I like to think I have grown up SOME since then but a party is out of the question you see after drinking too many vodka and lime on Christmas and embarrassing myself in front of family. (I was doing the Macarena while wearing a Christmas hat). So the house being empty and all and me not having to work as much this is a perfect opportunity to cleanse the Chi and be domesticated.

So my first day consisted of me working till 5pm coming home making a lovely Alfredo spaghetti with sliced mushrooms and settling down to watch Moulin Rouge then I gathered up and began watching the new seasons of How I met your Mother and Grey’s. Crying constantly in Grey’s as the house is empty and you know freedom of emotion is free to reign.

I woke up on Sunday with the house alarm going off, while patrolling the house with my hair straightener. I was not going to die on my day off. I was dressed and ready by 7am. I mean come on. I had things to do, feeling important I slapped some eyeliner on and did the dishes and washing. *sigh* Domestication. Now its 8 and I am already bored, so TV goes on. NOTHING 600 channels and nothing to watch, so I pack my bags and head off to a Movie, I was the only one in the movie laughing my butt off before realizing that this is prime territory for serial killers, thus destroying the mood of feeling safe. I walked out the cinema and roamed around a somewhat empty shopping mall. Got to love the feeling after Christmas, broke and unhappy. I was so bored I walked around Musica until the security guard told me to leave and put the stolen goods back on the counter… WHAT I hadn’t stolen anything so I just left. I then went to 2 different malls after that. GOD it’s only 1pm. HA! Lunch yes something to do.

After lunch, I went home and vegged. ‘Come on Kelly, surely there is something you wanted to do for ages and haven’t had the chance’ .

A long bath and face mask, a pedicure and a reading session. BINGO so I light the candles around the bath, slap some “AU LAIT” bubble bath in the steamy water set my phone to play Dr. Horrible in the background. ‘Ahh’ as I sink into the bubbly milky water. I lay back, sinking feeling the muscles relax. Sniff. Sniff. What is that smell. HAIR I whip and around and the candle scorched some hair. Now terrified I may actually set myself on fire and whether or not the bubble bath is flammable I quickly got out. So Reading it is. Snuggled up into my bed, light breeze from my window and a cuppa tea. *sigh*. I pick up my glass half way through a crucial bit and BANG something crashes in the kitchen and the BOILING HOT tea is on my lap.

Investigating what was going down in the kitchen, I knew that dam Killer from the movies followed me home. I walk around the house nothing the dishes shifted in the drying rack causing them to clatter.

I slept well after scaring myself so, with images of clowns and mutilated faces. I stubbed my toe this morning and screamed at the dresser for a good 5 minutes, just yelling.

You see being by yourself isn’t that bad. I actually enjoy it. I can hang out with someone who likes the things I do, I don’t argue with them and it doesn’t take us 20 minutes to decide on what movie to watch or what restaurant to go to. It’s perfect.

Take a day and just be with yourself. Its not weird going to the movie by yourself…

STUPIDITY THE NEW EPIDEMIC!!!

2008-12-22T19:21:00.000+02:00

This has to be the one thing I have no Tolerance for…

I am a strong believer in “Stupidity should kill”, Yeah ok no one is perfect and stupid questions and blonde moments are allowed, but SERIOUSLY…

Ok I work with the public, A LOT, I work in a bookstore and this is the one place Stupidity reins supreme. I tend to have faith in people and give them the benefit of the doubt even when answering the phone after a 6,5 hour shift.

Me: “(insert bookstore name here), Kelly speaking. How can I help?”
Phonee: “Is this (insert bookstore name here)?”

NO!! Because if it was City Council I would answer, “This is Bedfordview Spar how can I help?” No of coarse I wouldn’t???

Or carrying piles of books and placing them in sections. I get asked, while wearing a badge that says “(insert Bookstore name here)”,

“Sorry do you work here?”

No I walk around this shop doing their jobs while THEY get paid.

Ok so its not just customers that are stupid. I have had my fair share of stupidity behind counters or over the Telephones.

For instance, I walk into a bookstore (ssshhhh I do shop at our opposition), I walked up to the counter waited for the ladies to finish their conversation while the store music was BLARING some R ‘n B artist, whose name escapes me. I have patience and understanding when I deal with people from the opposite end of the counter. I walk out when I see the doors being closed or run to the counter to pay for stuff, I put things back where I found them and if there is a mistake I understand but on this particular day I was tired, hot and in some need of GOOD LITERATURE (which our store didn’t have this particular book that could satisfy this need) so I approach the counter of this DISCO store and wait a good 5 minutes before getting a glance from one of the ladies (In her defense she did apologise for not seeing me, Ok redeemed, until…), she hurries over and proceeds to help me.

Counteree: “Hello, How can I help you?” Check, Polite

Me: “Yes, I am looking for Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote” I am sure to pronounce the title and author as I know its difficult to pull a name or title from a mumbling customer.

Counteree: “Sure” Type, type, type, type “Just hold on while I get it for you”

WOW impressed… She gets a 9.

Hands Kelly book

Title “Breakfast Epiphanies”

WHAT????

Anyway after storming out hitting a milkshake out of some poor innocent 5 year olds hand, I thundered down the escalators and went home. This is what it does to me the poor child was probally having the only milkshake his mother allowed him and BOOM gone. I am not usually this eratic but it really does irritate me...

My favourite experience EVER…

(Me at …insert bookstore name here… behind counter ready to sell books)

Me: “Good evening, how can I help?”

Customer: “Where do you keep your Bathroom Scales?”

(Confused face)
Me: “Excuse me, Books on bathroom scales?”

Customer: “NO! Sweetie the thing you stand on and it tells you your weight!”
She is now talking to me as if I am stupid.

(my will to live has now faded and a need to hit this women with a Bathroom scale – the ones we keep in our cookery section of this bookstore – grows increasingly)

Me: “No sorry ma’am we don’t keep bathroom scales here”

Customer storms off.

Stupidity should kill, it’s becoming an epidemic that will soon take over the world and those who long to fight this “Troublesome disease” may not make it through this crusade.

I wish you all luck to rid this world of Stupidity…

Kelly is currently Blogging...

2008-12-21T17:57:00.000+02:00

I have been TOLD, well more like scolded at to update my Blog regularly. So I began thinking and thinking and no inspiration came. (Well it did eventually as you can see/read). I began writing this blog in my mind after 5 cups of coffee at work (you may think I am crazy, drinking coffee in 27 degree heat but with a air conditioned office anything is possible), I wrote it all down stored it in a filing cabinet in my brain. I wrote it in traffic, I wrote it while listening to my Ouma talk about my cousin (who is a godsend in her eyes and may actually be the Messiah), I wrote it while a customer moaned and groaned about books being expensive, how it was disgusting that people were spending so much money and in January they would be poor. I even wrote it in my dream, it became so popular it was even published and I made more money than J.K Rowling. Ok we all know that won’t happen YET?

Well I don’t have any inspirational messages or moans and groans but I do have some events I want to tell you about.

Night Staff Christmas Party.

This is the social event of the year, the one time someone takes me out and forks out more than a R100-00 (that I haven’t lent them) and buys me dinner and drinks. The event you dress up for and guaranteed there are paparazzi and there will defiantly be drunken secrets revealed or secret devotions. (Well not this time but drunk was still on the menu). I tooted up, did my hair; half strangling myself with the hair straightener (which I am a pro at but due to exhaustion things went pear shaped) while watching Hannah Montana. I drove so slowly to the place taking care not to crease my pants or shirt, just in case Jonathan brought his camera (I am ready for my close up Mr. Bosworth). I wasn’t disappointed. I handed out my chocolate cards (cards with chocolates not made out of chocolate, though that would be a dream come true). I sat down posed for every photo, I don’t have the self confidence to just strike a smile (don’t judge). My food was amazing, so were the two beers and crude jokes (courtesy of Robert Grant Smith). I learnt the Keg and Crow in Bedford does serve milkshakes after 10pm due it being a “Hardcore Drink”.

By the way Jonathan I have caught on to you, you sir slip 4 shots of vodka in your vanilla milkshakes… (hehehe)

Well I went to this shin-dig with Jonathan (again I have no gay-dar). I almost ripped his tie off and yes Jon I think you smell YUMMY. LOL.

I saw Ingrid. I haven’t seen that child in ages and no more will Keg be the same, she had to scamper off to work a late shift at SABC so if you watching family time TV and a secret message pops up its probably Ingrid or Linda. Linda, Ah Linda-Loo Dude I miss you. She left Simphiwe with her orders (15 of them) the funniest thing ever.

Rob told us about how Miss World was at the Sandton Sun, where he was working. The funniest story ever, you should ask him to tell you one day. *laughs to self*. Calla arrived ½ an hour late looking worse for wear (being late for calla isn’t a new thing but the fact her Boyfriend was there first worried me *giggle*). She exclaimed that she hated me because I gave her season 3 of One Tree Hill and yes its my fault she had been watching episodes till 3am an addiction I am planning to help her curb, this I decided after she nearly grabbed my collar begging for season 4, which I don’t have.

It was eventful; we even found a door with a sign saying “Strictly Private”.

This little excursion made me bump my elbow 4 times, almost walk into a cabinet and have people tell me something three times before I understood. That’s sign of a good evening.

Well thats it... See I need time to build up the rants and raves in life, *sigh* who else is going to do it.

RIDING THE WAVES...

2008-12-12T13:46:00.000+02:00

OK so what if I don’t have a PLAN B for my life? Is that bad?

I get that things don’t always work out like we plan, and I am not the last to know when things are way too good to be true. What if collapses around me? Do I stress about it now or just Ride the wave Dude *Surfer voice Dudes*…

Right now I am living my dream, just surviving; but living close to what I want my life to be. Firstly in 5 years I don’t want to be living at home (like I am now), I want to have kids (which I think both my father and myself will agree, hopefully, won’t be anytime soon). I get change is inevitable and all that jazz, broken hearts and tears are the war wounds of life.

I am two decades old, have crashed a car, nursed a broken heart, been so drunk I can’t remember being drunk, met some pretty amazing people, changed way too many POO nappies for my liking (My godson), caught a funky rash from Woodstock (no it wasn’t the drummer I “Supposedly” went to second base with; P.S What is second Base?) and laughed so hard I accidentally snorted Fanta up my nose.

I have just recently come back from the longest, greatest, fantastical, jazzy, loud, drunken, amazing holiday (OK I know too many descriptive words, you reading them I had to think of them), nothing specifically interesting happened… Oh no wait, I watched my friend/s break expensive coffee jars and percolators, eaten so many chip rolls I could turn into one, I witnessed a dubious act and a pants pulling off. We got lost, offered drugs (which I thought were a fizzy drink), got fondled by a drummer, had drunken heart to hearts and figured that life is as good as it gets.

All my blog’s have been about how the torture of being a 20 year teenager lost in this world can be, but honestly it isn’t all darkness and emo feelings… My dream world everyone is a unicorn and poops butterflies… (Horton hears a who)…In fact I seem a bit like a drama queen if you will. I can’t guarantee happiness and dry eyes for all eternity, but what I can say is that it all has significance to teach you something.

But now back to the future (not the show), I work two jobs (EVERYDAY); many people do. I realised, while filing contracts and being brutally attack by a 500 page manuscript (paper cuts), that this is what I could happily do for the rest of my life. Right CHECK (marks with a tick) “Figure out what the hell your purpose is” that’s off the list. OK so work gave me an email address, my own computer and an access card, I now feel I belong. I could do this!!

Reading my other blog’s I noted something else. I have been moaning about all the things that I don’t have and the guys who have crumpled me on their up. HA!!! Here’s to you. I figured my dream out, partied hard with my friends, learned that life is hard and it will make you cry… All these things I did without you… Yes Nada, Nix, Bugger all came from you. (Wow harsh you may say), as Eminem said “I am cleaning out my closet” Yes the new is upon us, and I am letting go of the baggage and holding on tight to the gems.

This is to achieving your dreams (Cliché tear comes to my eye), finding your purpose and RIDING THE WAVES DUDES… (Surfer voice again).

Make a wish…

Got it…

Hold on to it…

Got it??

Now Believe

-One Tree Hill-

*points to you*

Picture Perfect Princess

2008-10-05T18:09:00.000+02:00

I haven’t blogged in ages because things have been a tad bit out of control and somewhat blurry…

I have been paying too much attention to frivolous things rather than the things closest and most important to me. I don’t know how this came about it could have been the unbelievable amount of alcohol I have consumed, the failed test or the fact that my best friend cut his hair and I didn’t even notice.

It took a Meg Cabot (The author of Princess Diaries) book launch, a blog, a life list, ABBA, and weird metaphor. There has to be something about frantic dressed up princesses, stupid mistakes and one person to make me realise I have been a complete jerk…

PAPER CUTS OR ONE STAB. That was the metaphor; I know some of you reading this are shaking your heads but hey. A friend and I had an epiphany in this cute Italian Restaurant with Mamma Mia playing in the background. We decided to take control of our lives, Stuff fate or destiny and if we wanted it we were sure as hell going to take it and make sure we kept it. This is where the Life List comes in. The life list came about at a Keg (in Bedford to specific) after one too many beers we began compiling all the worst things that could ever happen and to change them then and there. From saying what we feel to not getting the coaster stuck to the glass.

The metaphor was made for me, her way of telling me to shut up, suck it up and stop being a baby.

Paper cuts = the situation where you have interest in someone and are too afraid to say anything, you see them around and they say things that you misunderstand and little things begin to hurt you. I.e. paper cuts, small painful but healable. However they do happen over a long period of time

One Stab = telling that person how you feel and getting it over with, one stab and its over you now can heal.

So a tiny (and I do mean TINY) bit intoxicated we make this list and splurge it to every poor unsuspecting stranger, who actually humored us poor things.

I stand by the fact that at the moment I like the paper cuts.

You see I am not ready to let go of this cute little spark inside (OK maybe there is apart of me that wants to know) but, the poor unsuspecting suitor that my sights have fallen upon may freak out (as all the others have in the past) and then boom he is gone, and the little quirks he had, the little jokes, the tendon in his arm that would stress when he picked something up WOULD LEAVE ME IN MY DARK EXPANSE OF A HEAD ALONE. Lol.

Girls have their tastes, the Geeks, the Jocks, or the Quirks. Each have the quality that we as young women of the world would love divulge into and learn more about. It gets complicated as you get older; you no longer send notes asking Thomas Franking to the Disco with answer blocks saying “Yes”, “No”, “Maybe”… I mean MAYBE its either yes or no buddy…

Ah the simple times…

Now it’s to dinner (awkward setting) with a significant other your best friend met through a friend of a friend’s doctor. You sit down feeling the pressure in your eyeliner, you know you put too much on and he will think you are a hooker and think ah well. You don’t know if you are interested yet because you are too worried about him thinking you are a pig as you dive into a kilo of ribs (Its stress eating and this is a stressful time). He doesn’t look interested but now you are because nothing says I am interested than playing hard to get, but then you feel weird… should you be interested or not. So you eat more… and then he does look interested and you think “OH GOD HE IS A STALKER”. He walks you to his car and you don’t know if it’s ok to hug or kiss. So you do the ass hug the hug where your ass sticks out because you are too worried about getting to close. In the meanwhile you just want to get some and he is cute.

It’s all too much for someone (i.e. me!) who has never dated anyone. So I sit in my little world and Dream he likes me back because I am way too immature for his 25year old frame. But gosh he knocks my socks off. LOL.

AH what’s a girl/guy to do in situations like this?

I say hang onto your friends guys they help guide the way and hopefully you have friends that will tell you to shut up and stop being stupid.

“A best Friend is someone who sees the pain in your eyes, while everyone else sees the smile on your face”

SO thank you Catherine, Shaun, Mike, Sean, Calla, Ingrid and Caroline for putting up with my shit. I HEART YOU GUYS…

Mozambician Paradise

2008-09-23T20:32:00.000+02:00

Day One

12/09/08

15h30

Ok, so here I sit a moment to scribble thoughts frantically 10 people 2 cars 1 house and 10 cases of booze...I SAY NOTHING MORE...

I have just showered after a grueling 10 hour drive to this somewhat tropical island. We have already been Barhopping, I had this awesome drink called R&R its Rum and Rasberry... NICE!!!!! My stomach is mixing the natural acids and the booze and so we are at the moment eating our secong Lunch... as the first place took way too long an took like 40 minutes to make snacks as they battle with english being Portuguese and all. The only thing I remember from the make shift Language list Calla gave me is Uma Cerjva Perva Vor!!!! and that means One beer please... Hello!!!! you can only imagine how this holiday will turn out!!!

We ran through the Rain. It has not stopped, I know right Raining in a tropical Resort...don't work.

17h00

I have officially just Bundu Bashed... lol.

Its so great there is nothing but beach and quiet here. My speech is slower and my need for more Nothing is growing huge. This house is huge...it accomodates quiet nicely. Lack of Technology and a Kettle, even a radio is MIA so to play music we have parked the car in the back garden and it blares TIMELESS MEMORIES. Oh and 50% of the people here are double and plus my age....WTF!!!

23h00

Ok I have just seen my bed...COME ON! I have no problem sleeping on the floor but the fact that my hips don't fit on the SINGLE blow up matrass and my feet hang off the bottom and everytime I move it squeaks sending us into fits of giggles.

Oh and the closest I go to a TV is a local soccer game which I watched from my Balcony, with my Dad Singing DE LE RAY in his drunken state.

Dinner consisted of us braai-ing on a 2mm by 2mm braai it took an extra hour but hey we still ate. so tomorrow we are eating out....

DAY TWO

13/09/08

Time: To relaxed to care

Ok so today was in one word: FANTASTIC

Havanna's and all I decked out to the beach and I must say I am impressed I havent seen such white people in my life as the ones that accompanied me.

So I baywatch run and almost was Harpooned. kids screamed. We swam, my mom almost drowned and when she asked my dad why he didn't save her his reply "I thought you were doing synchronised swimming".

I went snorkling. amazing!!!!

And so we carried on Pub Crawling, 4X4 at this place called the PIT sounds more like a killers burial site.

We went exploring...FUN I spent money, saw kids screaming SWEETS. Just plain Beautiful. On the way back, a tiny bit drunk and sun stroked we joked hitching a ride... and a guy picked us up... HULLO TANNIE ... is how he greeted us... so in the bakkie we climbed...Tasteful was my mothers words... Mine on the other hand were MAIL ORDER BRIDES/HOOKERS.

Day THREE

HOME TIME

My Mother and I were the last ones packed and no its not because we are High Maitanance its because we over slept.

Ride home = excrutiating.... long and I peed at every stop... we were so hungry by the time we stopped at 13h00 we ate out of our car boots...

But I am so glad to be home...

I AM STILL NOT TANNED.... HELP!!!! (for the exception of one stripe on my foot)

Mwah

Kelly

BATHING CAN CURE THE WORLD!!!

2008-09-06T11:36:00.000+02:00

So what is it about bathing...? HUH??? You sit there in this tub of water either warm or cold which ever you are into…I DON’T JUDGE! And simply Wallow (is that the word).

This is not a rant on bathing it’s just a simple post on Bathing. Ok so this morning I popped myself into a bath, warm luxurious water with a hit of WOOLWORTHS Vanilla Bubble bath (fantastic Dahl) *hear the Lux skin care ad music swell*. I dip my toe in “Oooohhhh HOT” I squeal, and then dip the other toe and SIGH, just right. I AM READY FOR MY CLOSE UP MR DEMIRE! Sorry couldn’t resist.

What is it about Baths…???

You simply melt away as your goose bumped flesh eases into the warmth of the healing water. Everything is cured. You sink back into your new retreat and wallow in thoughts of the day, or the happenings of last night and you wonder how come your friends haven’t died of embarrassment and can still be seen in public with you or you them whichever. Your hangover eases and the bruises on your knees cease to ache and all in the world is right again even with just 3 hours sleep your double shift doesn’t look so looming in a bath filled to the brim of Vanilla sensation. The smell is intoxicating and you are in all essence yourself.

Just sit back and think as you read this of the little “THINGS” you do in the bath. Do you still play Battleship with the Shampoo and Conditioner or have you simply matured and decided to fill all the bottles around you with water in hopes it won’t be you who get the cold water squirt three days from now when the next person (or you in that fact) takes a bath… *mmm naughty*. Do you plan your day? Or just stop thinking? Do you become so relaxed you have to lie back after the excruciating task of washing yourself?

Now this isn’t supposed to be purvey (pronounce deary) but nonetheless it may seem like it. You become aware of your body. (Come on people it’s yours be aware STUPID). So you discover new marks and reminisce in old scars (the ole war wounds bucko). Or you discover that beauty spot on your inner thigh (WINK), I will use that next time Pick up lines 101.

Bathing is a necessity well I hope most my readers bath or shower it doesn’t matter and a luxury that just tames the heart that’s in love or breaking. You lie back absorbed in your own head swimming with dreams and intoxicating fumes. You either are thinking about HIM or you are just wondering how that stupid Assignment is going to get done.

The things that got sorted out in my bath today should prove that if world leaders took baths more often our world may be more sensible and humble.

SO HAVE A BATH TODAY AND YOU MAY ACTUALLY CURE THE WORLD!!!

*Wink*

Be Careful what you wish for, Because you just might get it...

2008-08-29T23:51:00.000+02:00

Today I rush home from work at 3pm, with just enough time to miss One Tree Hill and make a cup of coffee before I head off to my next job. Please don’t Psycho-analyse me I enjoy the rush and panic and feeling of exhaustion when I get home knowing that I did only my best and nothing less, OK but this isn’t what this is about.

I rush home, hurdle to the bathroom and trip… YES TRIP AND FALL FLAT ON MY ARSE, it was my own shoes (big huge size 8 feet I curse you!!!) OK so on the way into the study (after the Bathroom guys stay with me here) to switch on my computer Facebook Y’all hello… I tripped, I tripped saw my life flash before my eyes TRIP Ouch, Bang, Clutter, Shit, FUDGE (Except it wasn’t the word Fudge). On the floor wishing the beast or three headed dog I see in front of me would just kill me already and then
a book falls on my head…

I LOVE BOOKS I have a blog to prove it… but this specific book that adds salt to wound or more like wound to head, I would like to burn it slowly. I pick it up ready to fling it anywhere and everywhere that would do most damage, I look down face my maker… (drum roll please). It’s my old diary, the petite JOURNAAAL (with flair please). I flip to the first page and there is a sketchy drawing of me and Tom Paisley* (Names protected for my own sanity) me in a wedding dress, Of course, and the birds and flowers are brightly shaded etc etc etc… gory detail after gory detail my childhood years spread before me.

My dreams my wishes my cheesy poems my newspaper clippings of Brad Pitt swooning my school photo. Corny childish fantasies.
One that stood out was:
“Today was ok…
Ok, I am alone and one day the sun may kill us all, WHY?
He never looks at me, even after I offered him some cheese curls
He took her hand, its ugly and boney… *puke*”

Wow Kelly, some growing up we have done… NOT I find myself faced with that everyday. The other thing was a list I made of all the things I wanted to do…from being a dolphin swimmer, a teacher, a nurse, a mother of 12 (which I still want, I am an idiot we all know this), to work for a sweet factory, to be Willy Wonka, eat 5 worms before you die, kiss a boy WITHOUT COOTIES, drive a car, travel till you die, write a book, and the last one BE HAPPY. Sad as it is I have only accomplished one thing on that list and that’s driving a car.

Ah I still dream of writing a novel on a balcony in a country I don’t the language owning my own villa, a sweet smell of grapes in the air, the taste of authentic food on the tip of my tongue, to the feel of the sun burning my skin. *sigh*

I also sit back in a silent lull wishing I could marry a Rockstar, that feeling of the song playing the ONE song he wrote for me, the push of the crowd around me in the stadium and adrenaline ah and the beer stains… I can smell it now.

Or the fantasy of just being free completely free, of responsibility everything, work, school get rid of it all and be a unseen hero like Batman or Spiderman. LOL.

Ok running around in circles here, but I sat back (head and knees throbbing) wishing I could have the simplicity back of big crayons and dumbo colouring books. *sigh* what a life where Tommy Felps* (again protected) cried because I kicked him in the shin for a fizz pop.

I still want to do those things on my list, like write a book and traveling till I die but that would mean GROWING UP! Moving on with my jobs(which involved publishing books and selling them) and my friends who are just in a plain word FABULOUS! Leaving varsity, in fact that one I don’t mind so much, I could always become a stripper but for your sakes and my own we won’t talk further on that subject.

So which is it? Wishes and dreams or just plain raw Reality.

I think mix them both together…

OK so be careful what you wish for because you just might get it and how wonderful that might be.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

STEPS TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE!!!

2008-08-14T21:07:00.000+02:00

Ok, so its been awhile yeah yeah… I have gotten some much needed coercing from some friends and family to update my blog. Honestly, I haven’t found the perfect subject to blog about and have you leave your computer and think WOW great Blog Kelly! I have written blog’s on Love during spring, pensive thoughts, secrets and the wishes we had in the past. While discussing some topics with a friend one night, he said “Oh no not another blog where your friends are hooking up and you feel so sad and bummed”…. Uuuuuuhhhhhhhh was my response. That’s not what my blog’s are for they are for independent thinking debate. But that’s not the point, when this friend said this I thought you know its time to IMPROVE, PIMP my life if you will.

So the first step in improving and living more positively was to give myself a facial, Yes a facial a routine cleanse to the facial tissues that allow us ladies to look radiant and feel fresh ß According to the package of course. So my facial was the last thing from relaxing, the mask went everywhere besides my face and everywhere in my EYES!!!!!!! It burns…

The second step was to shave my legs, to feel that independence women in the past once fought for, to feel beautiful and clean shaven. So after the second razor used only on my knees I decided to take this rainforest to a professional, who kicked me out her waxing room shouting something like Arabic or Chinese whichever I hope it went along the lines of I will never be ugly, if not then she put a curse on me and tomorrow I shall be my mother like in Freaky Friday, but then again I wont mind having a love interest like Chad Michael Murray… Ok sorry I drifted there!

Third step to Wellness of mind and body, Join a gym… yeah after 6 visits I finally signed the contract and am happy (haven’t been in 2 weeks). So I stroll in gear and all even a “sweat towel”. So I hop onto the bike with a mildly attractive young man behind me (By mildly I mean, God Chiseled his face from gold) I adjust the bike seat height but nowhere on the bike does it say that you shouldn’t be on the seat while adjusting, so Kelly adjusts sending the seat to a clashing clank. I haven’t been back since.

Forth step: Open mind. The next time someone says this is a good thing please kick them. Being open minded taught me that the next time a friend with a past drug addiction invites me to a Cupcake party and by Cupcake I mean Marijuana and by Marijuana I mean a concoction of Crack, Ecstasy, and Heroine.

By this stage I just stopped thinking I might just kill myself before improving myself. I also learnt that if you have friends who religiously read your blog because it makes you happy and you just smile the moment you see them then improving should be last on your list. I learnt that it’s the people in your life that allow you to be who you are and what you are going to be.

So if change is called for CHANGE IT, but if you are not sure let things just fall into place and they will.

Over and out
:D

DANCING ON THE CEILING!!!

2008-07-12T22:46:00.000+02:00

We all know this song, either you are a Lionelie fan and have a complete fetish for 80s extravaganza music mixes or you picked it up in the ultimate chick flick ST. ELMO’S FIRE, which introduced Demi Moore. We all know it somehow from somewhere, and you all are grinning because its a theme song from a road trip or even just that crazy party you had three weeks ago. Ok ok it might not be your song but you defiantly have that one song that no matter how old it gets you still do the drunken jive with flare to on a Saturday night.

Well I was on my way to work, My one of two jobs, and I got stuck at a Robot (story of my life) I slipped in this unmarked CD and let it rip, and so it started the slight muffle or talking (intriguing I have to add) then and burst of classic 80s techno that Lionel Richie is so famous for, then…

“What is happening here, Something is going on that’s not quite clear” the words warm my toes and I twitch to the tune, and I laugh manically because just a week ago, a flash back plays like a family movie before my eyes in the traffic. Crazy hats and the smell of alcohol, and I just can’t help myself and I blast the music loud, now dancing like there is no tomorrow.

“Don’t hold back because it ain’t no use” Lionel sings to me. I feel myself transport back and forth from nostalgia to plain grey reality. I begin to remember being kicked out the keg in Bedfordview after a long shift with work buddies and 2am in the morning. I remember the welcome back party from a friend who came back from Brazil. I feel the hangover from both hit me at once and all I can do is laugh. Embarrassment is way past me, the pictures are too gruesome to try and scrape the little bit of dignity I have left.

“Everybody starts to lose control when the music is right”, it fills my car with memories that have come alive and I honestly think that I would die if it changed.

One song can make everything flood my mind, but honestly life throws curve balls and we never get exactly what we want. Yeah it’s ok to dream, but things aren’t always colour rainbows and fairy sprinkled sunshine. Change sucks, yeah ask me. I get too attached and then people move on and I stand back like a wounded cougar ALONE but I cheer them on and they deserve every bit of fairy sprinkled sunshine they can get their hands on, because it’s far and few.

I have said good-bye to way too many people this week all have taken pieces of me with them. I hope. It’s broken my heart and left me crying little petite tears. You leave high-school and instead of colouring in the lines your world does a 180 and the lines become faint and strange, you lose people and you gain some amazing ones as well! But holding too tight only strips them and you of the good stuff like having coffee at 3am at a newly found 24-hour Wimpy or that stupid joke that blind sights you on a random Tuesday at 2pm and you laugh hysterically for two days flat. The good stuff like the things you learn, or the realization that they have given you. These things plant you in a context and allow you to experience, and so they must move on as must you. ROLL LIKE A STONE but it is a long way to happy.

So to the funny guy, to the noble one, to the most generous and honest people I know, to the go-getter, to the loyalty, to the BOSS, to Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, to Musicals, to Books, to the girl who intimidates me, to the irreplaceable bottle of wine and 6 beers, to spooning and to You (you know who you all are here in the above).

Remember:
“Change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn... And it comes like the stealthy perfume of wild flowers hidden in the grass" – John Steinbeck.

Hope I didn’t get to sappy…
:D

P.S All this happened at a Robot and it changed twice before I figured out that my CD player was on repeat.

SUCCULENCE IN ALL ITS GLORY!!!!!!

2008-06-21T22:45:00.000+02:00

Some would associate the word SUCCULENCE with a rare juicy steak, dripping chocolate, or a naked Pamela Anderson. I on the other hand associate SUCCULENCE with literature. The moving word of someone’s imagination sprawled out with words in any order or coincidence, expression or just an encounter described.

I had the most amazing English teachers throughout my school career, enjoying every word that dripped from their mouths, each inspiring me to take a deeper look into the minds of authors, what they thought with each typed word. I thrived on this everyday. I remember the first book I read completely till the end, The Kayaboeties by E, Begrin. A South African story of a group of kids wanting to become a band they call themselves the Kayaboeties, I thrilled in the authenticity of this novel and it was the start of many books that influenced my life.

In grade 10, Our English teacher Mrs. Maddock never gave us a speech topic or what to read for prepared reading. She was an Irish woman, pasty and wrinkled with a mouth that would make a sailor blush. She had no sqwams about how she wanted things done, and she made you work for your marks. So speech time came and I had nothing to write on never mind say a speech on, so with ball point pen in hand I wrote whatever filled me up. READING. Defining the action giving examples it was my personal thesis laid out on blue and green cue cards neatly cut at right angles and numbered efficiently. This was my world and I revel in the exciting charm and wit of an author’s imagination.

I once read “For many people reading fiction remains a supreme pleasure. The first milestone reached and the great joy of childhood. The silent pleasure, the offspring of loneliness or absorption, the nurse of daydreams and reflections, the mystery of the passions, the instigator of adventure and change. Reading can literally change lives. Reading fiction is a source of renewal and strength” – Peter Ackroyd.

I settle on the couch, a volume of pure imagination and the English language, I feel the crisp pages crunch beneath my fingers as I turn the page the words dance the author’s thoughts sending me from tears to laughter in a matter of sentences. Grammar holding me in suspense and sending me through a whirlwind of thought and action. I begin to fall in love or experience death. I become attached to characters as they evaporate off the page and into my living room becoming apart of me and me of them. I can be anything and go anywhere with a paged tome in my hands, my portal to Middle Earth, Hogwarts, or Miami. I can be a Bond girl, or Elizabeth Bennett and even study with Hermione Granger. The world is limitless. I run my fingers over my small collection of books and orgasm at their touch.

One thing my father teases me about is that when our house catches fire instead of saving him I would in fact save my book collection. Sad to say but I would. I picture myself in a panic with just my Pj’s on my hair a frizzy mess, running frantically searching for the one solider missing My Jane Austen collection that seems to have scattered in the panic. I would fall to my knees and scream in anguish as a mother who just lost a child. I realise this is somewhat too attached but I am taking medication for it.

“Ahhh” I sigh, and shake my head and realise this is my world I feel freer and can escape the world of clichés and hypocrisy with a flip of the page. I love my world and will carry on living in it. What makes it all worth while is watching my little cousins try with the utmost concentration to wrap their mouths around the word literature as I have lined them up on the floor with a copy of "Green Eggs and Ham" in my hand while tapping it with my fore-finger drilling the word LITERATURE into a 3-year-olds mind. To watch the irritation on their faces as Sam-I-Am asks the grouch yet again (for what seems like the 80th time in just two pages) if he would eat Green Eggs and Ham, but with sneaky suspicion they know that only trying the Green Eggs and Ham would he actually decide if he in fact likes it. I watch them subtly grasp this huge lesson that somehow effects me as well. TRY SOMETHING NEW DIM-WIT!!!! My godson looks at me and yanks the book from my hands and says "Kelly what happens if I don't like Green Eggs and Ham" and my answer is "You then try Pink Eggs and Ham until you find whatever you like".

Funny how one simple 15page book can make you re-evaluate your entire life. Think about it.

So please when you leave a comment type “P.S My favourite book is…..” and tell me, it could be the first or last book you read… go on tell me.

Till next time.

xxxxx

FAMILY CHOOSE THEM OR LOOSE THEM

2008-06-12T22:48:00.000+02:00

The Aunts and Uncles, only half of them

My cousins, only half of them

Again the poser in the back... not with us... LOL...

Ok so you guys pretty much have gathered that I am a family and friend kind of girl, I center my life around them and honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way. My one biggest fear is having a reality TV crew waltz through my house for some Sunday night segment of WHOSE YOUR FAMILY and the world really get to see my family, however this is no different!!!!!

Well I might as well share my crazy family with you seeing as you are taking the time to read the innards of my life. Ok well as a Kid of about 5yrs my family rocked, yeah they did, Crazy cousins, an unorthodox Granny, a Cooking express of an Ouma and Uncles that would rugby dive me into beach sand. This was the highlight of my childhood. Ok well with my Mom have 4 brothers and 1 sister, My Dad having 1 sister and 1 brother and my Aunt having 5 kids of her own made Sunday lunch more of a shifting of seats and screaming kids rather than delicious roast beef.

Being an only child this was all I ever dreamed of, hanging out with my cousins and playing power rangers and getting up to all kinds of mischief, I was content with that. But then Puberty hit and Family… *hides under desk* yeah the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to me, My cousin Terry loved walking around naked when she got home from school (this is where I prevented school friends coming over) and then would whip herself into a Spanish dancing dress and perform for us. My Ouma (my mother’s mother) would claim quite enthusiastically that I looked skinny and anorexic and on that note would prepare a five course meal in my honor. After a good deal of food, I would push my plate away and get the LOOK yes the LOOK the look you get when you hurt someone dear to you, the puppy eyed look of hurt!!!!!! The LOOK!!!!! “Kelly didn’t you enjoy that” always followed… “No Ouma, why??” Well you haven’t eaten much… “No thanks Ouma I have just devoured twice my body weight in mash potatoes and chocolate pudding I think I have had enough”. God bless their souls. And My Oupa would sit us around the table and tell us that Tomatoe sauce was made by ppl squashing the tomatoes with their feet… Never got over that one!!!! UGH!!!!

My Gran (my Fathers mother) always knew my weakness of Rock Buns these scone-like cakes with raisins in them but always denied them to me. I remember her buying these really expensive Plasters with bugs on and My cousin and I tried so HARD to get one of those Plasters, so One day while taking out the garbage we grazed our knees against the wall and limped (dramatically) home we proceeded to tell her that I tripped over and brick and my cousin not paying attention tripped over me, but in the end she gave us the plasters… THEY WERE AWESOME!!! And my Papa, the craziest memory I have of my Papa was when one night after a successful Football match he had a couple too many… and so the image of my Gran and my aunt hauling my slurring grand-dad up the passage and then within minutes his pants were at his ankles, resulting in my Gran and my aunt falling into a serious bout of the giggles and leaving my grandfather to make his way up the passage Pantless!!!!!

Now my folks, yeah they were somewhat unorthodox in their teachings but I think I turned out pretty well. I was waking them up for work by the time I was 5 so I could get to preschool on time (Which I was always either too early or too late, this occurred all the way through primary school and High school) My mother never made me lunch instead would stop at the Steers two blocks from my school and buy me a kiddies meal. My Dad would have to baby sit me on Saturdays, which involved me hanging out at the local pub where I learnt to play Solitaire on the Nuddey lady machine. Never quite fitting in, with my family I sought acceptance elsewhere but nothing felt as my family did.

As my Gran would say “You can choose your friends, but Family you can’t choose now have a sandwich”. As the years past I figured if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em. And so when we gather together and put on a rendition of swan lake to Classic Fm’s music we have a laugh as my lanky cousins and I trip and giggle over each other… or how we party till all hours of the morning reeking havoc everywhere we go!!!!! BRING ON THE TECQUILA my cousin would shout and flash the entire night club. The best is she doesn’t like tequila.

Family has to be the backbone of life and so here I go diving head on!!!!!

Till next time

xxxxxxxxx

LOOKS OVER BOOKS

2008-06-09T10:52:00.000+02:00

Last night I was sitting idly on my bed counting, uh actually I don’t know what I was counting but it was something of real importance (ok not really). Well it hit me then and there like a 12ton truck in peak hour traffic.

I have caught myself on occasion picking up a self-help book in the psychology section of a bookstore and secretly purchasing it, secretly yes. Buying these books makes me feel somewhat of an emotional invalid unable to cope on my own. I have also caught myself paging through a Cosmopolitan and giggling at little embarrassing moments of other females, I have also swooned at a love scene in a movie and cried my eyes out in the movie P.S I love you. I wouldn’t say these are my weak points but they certainly aren’t my strong points.

Looking at the world in a clichéd way, yes it is superficial, looks over books ladies. That was the memo I certainly didn’t get. I know what I look like and don’t need sympathy from a supermodel look a like who walks past me in the supermarket whose thoughts are apparent on her angelic face “WOW!!! They really do make a size 48 pants”… Yes honey then do! I am classed as the Fat Girl!! Oh please don’t gasp and proceed to close the window, I know it and on more than once one of you out there have thought it. Knowing what I look like is different to being told what I look like. Come on Ladies we all know this rule, I know I am fat but if I ask don’t tell me I am fat…

What I don’t need is some loser drunk walking up to me at a party, trying to score with me because he has unsuccessfully furthered himself in some of the opinions of the actual ‘GOOD-LOOKING’ girls out there, and so he says “You know I like girls with big bums” eyes wide, trying to make sure I don’t kill this guy so I spend the rest of my big bummed days in jail, in my mind I slam is ugly looking face into the bar counter and order myself a double vodka on the rocks on his tab. You see so creating alternate universes work for me, unrealistic and hold me back from actually facing the truth, I always imagine that my knight in shining armour will burst through the door and say that I am the only girl for him. Mmm sounds almost riveting. The music will be an upbeat song from Hairspray (my favourite Musical) and that guy who turned me down two weeks ago will be in the back of the room wishing this was his moment, opposed the scenario of him and his whiskey smelling, four teeth wife and 9 children in a trailer; that I have in, my head, created for him.

Of course the one guy I like would have a girlfriend or infact be gay (not that I don’t love you guys anyway MWAH), but his girlfriend would be the girl who I envied in High School, watching her blonde hair bounce with GHD straightness and her eyes as blue as the ocean, and Oooohhhh wait for it not only is she a Personal Trainer, she speaks 4 languages; Russian, Portuguese, French and German, she built a school in Kenya, is running for Humanitarian of the year award, she reads books to kids in Ethiopia, heads a knitting class on a Tuesday and to add to her list of accomplishments, SHE DOESN’T EAT CHOCOLATE!!!!!!! Now how the hell is anyone supposed to compete with that, not eating chocolate.
The worst feeling of it all is going out to dinner and being the only single person at the table and so you order five shots of tequila and a bottle of wine, no one notices as they are all staring into each others eyes… And every so often you get the “shame she is single” look of sympathy, so while everyone is feeding each other and holding hands (which is cute don’t get me wrong I would most likely do it if I had a boyfriend) you try so hard not to puke on everyone there and hold the blunt butter knife far from your slash-able wrist. And the comforting words of a friend “Be Patient” and yes she is the girl with the boyfriend who loves her and calls her. I have been patient see I am only pulling out my hair and nails for what you have!!

Ok I understand immediately that we as a human race tend to look first before hearing, I know. But don’t give that line of ‘I am a personality guy’ do bugger off… because the first thing you see is perfect hair and symmetrical spaced eyes etc YOU DON’T SEE PERSONALITY IDIOT!!! Now believe me... I know and I don’t take offense to being chosen last for teams, coz honestly my Fat ass would rather be watching your skinny asses do all the work while I successfully eat a 3 litre tub of Ice-Cream before you get to see this and ultimately judge me… Now I am no Pig really yeah I love food, which idiot doesn’t, but realistically Pizza is soooo much better than green salad?

And so in conclusion I Like the way I am… Impossible, overweight and spoilt. But even if you (the guy who doesn’t see me as more than one of the guys) don’t see it MY 48 SIZE PANTS ARE WORTH EVERY BIT AS MUCH AS A SIZE 12 WAIST!!!!

Mwa!!!!!!

6 Years without you and still Missing you

2008-05-26T15:21:00.000+02:00

Ok so sticking with my melencholy theme which dominate the themes of my blog, I have successfully wrenched myself out of bed crawled along the floor taken every medication invented for influenza and still feel like my chest might rip open with each wrenching cough that rattles my sickened body, but this isn't the reason I am writing this today.

As a child my most fondest memories were of one man who mainly dominated most of childhood apart from my dad, My grandfather always had his place in majority of my nostalgia ridden memories.

He would Fetch us from school, picking my younger cousin Sean up first from Pre-school and have him hide in the back and as I climbed soiled in dirt in his white automatic cruiser my cousin Sean would pop out, which would scare both of us half to death and then have us in fits of giggles all the way home trying to re-create that frightened adrenaline rush your body pulsates. My favourite part of the trip home would be when, my grandfather would stop at the local cafe in eastliegh and have us choose a packet of Kaviller crisps and one chocolate milshake each, and some reason my cousin Sean not yet old enough to decide for himself at the time would always pick what I picked (this irritated me to no end) and off we would stand proud and liberated as he praised our choices (My choice actually) on Chutney crisps and a Choc Milkshake.

On arriving home we would devour our rashons while watching some show, the title I cannot recall, with some opening tune that we sang the entire day "I-I'm H-A-P-P-Y, I-I'm H-A-P-P-Y, I know I am I know I am H-A-P-P-Y"... Its what made my entire childhood.

As we grew older and began to dive into more and more Mischief, we would unhook all the curtains and stage a wedding, we would play power-rangers in the back yard hitting eachother with brooms, and shove marshmellows in our mouths till we couldn't speak and then get the giggles and dribble mixed marshmellows and spit everywhere from the door handles to the T.V Remote. I loved playing Chess with my grandfather, his cheeky grin as he made a move that my bishop would easily take, and with a sigh he would act all upset as if he hadn't seen my strategic plan (Which he taught me). I loved the patience he had when helping us with spelling or teaching me how to solve algerbraic problems like: If sally has 5 eggs and Brett has five times as many five days from now how many does Joe have?????? and when he would watch Mary Poppins for the 57th time.

I remembering him gathering up my grandmother and dancing swiftly across the room to a song by Marilyn Munroe. He would eat at 1pm on a sunday every sunday, and we loved it!!!! As we would each steal eachothers food off one anothers plates and gleefully smile as the person hadn't noticed. He would watch 'Days of our Lives' and hate every moment moaning to my grandmother, but yet he never changed the channel!!!!

I Still miss him, and somedays I have to sneak a peak at a picture to try and remember his face and his smell (which I feel ashamed for).

I want my younger cousins the really little ones to have those memories as well of pulling funny faces and screaming of fright, and sing along to "A Spoon full of Sugar" from Mary Poppins. I want to share the memories in old photo's hanging on the walls with everyone and see the little faces staring back, all full of carefree joy!!!!!

Yeah this blog is quite cheesy ans sickly upsetting but its me....

I Miss him!!!!! HAPPY 77TH BIRTHDAY PAPA!!!!

BEING A PLUMBER IS NOT AN OPTION!!!!!

2008-05-22T16:01:00.000+02:00

OK so now that I am a Blogging Brat… BB for short I feel obligated to fill in every little detail that occupies my mind and ultimately my life…

OK so here it is… While searching for some weird and wonderful idea to hit me for this new found hobby of blogging, I was sitting staring aimlessly at my computer screen while my Facebook updated and loaded. My maid somewhat in a panic screams. I live in Kempton Park, Not the most safest area’s In Johannesburg, as some would call this specific area the GHETTO, THE BRONX and whatever connotations that represent you venturing into an area that threatens your life… OK So any hooey, My maid Screams, catching my attention immediately, thinking ok we are being attacked so grab anything hard, so I grab the camera box lying next to me and run screaming like a Viking into the kitchen, only to be greeted with a complete blank stare from my maid and a foot tapping grandmother shaking her head.

I trudge forward and my shoe hits water, My maid who only speaks Afrikaans motions me to the sink, showing me a burst pipe. On my knees I am in 7mm of water tightening a pipe (my Varsity friends would give 70 man points for this but we won’t go there). The water flows harder and harder and then starts to steam and next moment I have gushing hot water flowing down my arms. I give a quick panic call to my dad (who is always at the rescue) he explains that a tap must be turned off outside in the rose bushes.. so off I go, I forget the screwdriver to open the box outside but think “I am so not going back”, at this stage my arms are searing from the sudden hot water and my adrenaline is waning… so I grab the first stone and pry the box open (another 60 man points) I smear my cheek with dirt and tighten the tap. The water stops flowing just a bit and I am now reaching to switch the tap off under the sink. Well this proves fruitless and more water gushes. My grandmother yells at me “IT’S GUSHING WATER!”, I look up arms burning and say very disrespectfully to my grandmother “No I thinks its chocolate milk” and carry on my fruitless attempt in closing this tap… Well persistence worked and the water stopped flowing so we begin to clean up the hot water which has no spread all over the kitchen and into the dining room.

All that was going through my head while cleaning was Please I hope to God I didnt show Plumber crack… I sigh with a heave of my chest and await the plumber to make my life easier…

I now know that being a Plumber is so not an option!!!!

Cliche or just overused...??????

2008-05-21T13:21:00.000+02:00

Ok well, I haven't blogged that much and found that it somehow releases all that you are into a wierd and extra wierd URL out there and you sit hopeful your blog may be good enough to catch the eye of someone, but this isn't the reason I am blogging today!!!!

Love is the question on everyone's lips lately... ok well maybe just my friends and I. We discuss the things that make us tick and the things that ultimately rattle our bones. I can't say I am an experienced guru, but I have been around the block a few times, Fine you caught me maybe not around the whole block but definately in and out the front door. My heart has been broken to many times to even count on both hands and toes and some may think I fall for just about anyone (actually not) I just like to look and the few who catch my eye, are either Gay or just plain assholes. I would like to say that this somehow disapears as you grow and mature but unfortunatly I have caught myself falling for those tainted loves, which in the 18th Century would have me burnt at the stake for something like Treason or even Witchcraft.

Its seems simple in those dreamy days of far away fantasies of your Prince Charming, but think again as your world plumates back to reality. Its easy to think you will find, the tall, blue, intellegent, funny, sexy, cuddly, rockstar you have been dreaming of just by walking into a bookstore where he will bump purposely into you, staring at you like he thinks you are just the most perfect creature ever.... Think again Ladies... That only happens in passionate Jane Austen books and chick flick movies staring McDreamy, McSteamy or even just plain old George.

Huh but this seems all cynical, as if giving up on hope, love, and passion is much easier. I am a sucker for love poems and sickly sweet acoustic guitar sessions while I wear his sexy smelling shirt.

My list is more complicated than I like to think but still it helps me sleep at night.

All I ask for is warm evenings sitting on the porch with him, drinking tall glasses of wine as he rests his head on top of my head, I want intellegent conversations about Charles Dickens and Ian McEwan, I want to make him Sandwhiches, dance to cheesy songs like Footloose and have him grin at me, I want to kick his ass at Xbox and watch How I met your Mother and One Tree Hillnot matter how many times we both find it funny, I want him to Look at me everyday like he has seen me for the first time he has seen me. I want to nuzzle my head into his neck and feel the rough stubble and He must love watching cheesy Broadway Musicals with me.

I Understand that this guy won't pop up tomorrow I know that much, but hopefull I sit typing my list and gaze out into the blue sky and know that he will find me, and that whole fairy tale squence that slows time, and we are the only ones in the world... you know the extra sickly sweet monatages of chick flicks. But hey we all can dream.

"All that non-fiction can do is answer questions. It's fiction's business to ask them." —Richard Hughes.

So make your lives Fiction and Fairy tales...

I WROTE THIS ONCE

2008-03-07T11:12:00.000+02:00

I learnt that true friends are still there, even after you call them a 'Bitch', and look you square in the eyes and say things like "its in the past" or "I understand" <----- the friends that make you cry and laugh at the same time... Yes Cry because if you don't cry then you don't feel deeply for that person. I learnt THINGS ARE NEVER AS THEY SEEM from the perfect relationship to the girl you work with being happy, Learnt the hole in your soul wont go away if you have a smile on your face, pretending it away doesn't mean it actually goes away, I learnt your heart can still get broken even if you take the precautions not to get it broken. I learnt no matter how independent you want to or are, your mommy still takes the boo-boo pain away. I learnt you can't have it your way all the time and exceptions are to be made. I learnt even if your Hollywood crush is your friend on Facebook doesn't mean he is going to call you up three days from now and ask you out (trust me on this one),I learnt that taking your Westlife posters down isn't a sign you have grown up its a sign that you are now willing to grow up and finally I learnt never to be sad that moments special to you are over be happy they happened......

I wrote this once for a mass email and after the replies it seems the entire world feels I am on the verge of killing myself well to assure you I am not...

I wrote this once and haven't written anything like it before or after.

I just wanted to show everyone how much I have grown and what has made me what I am today, I haven't reached complete contentment but who has. I want to be like this forever.

Great friends, sad Moments and even rainy days are acceptable. I want great novels on hot beaches and loud music. We can never be completely happy but its the small things you experience that make you smile add up and when you think of it BOOM you smile and laugh hysterically and those moments usually hit in the middle of a lecture and everybody stares weirdly at you...LOL....

Like watching your boss Zurbit his lips like a horse or even recall a friend running head on, skirt a flutter, into a group of boys. Squashing Tomato sauce packets, or even slipping in oil. Tiny moments of stupidity really do make your life... and its because of these moments that help us grow like in the above quote...LOL

To my buddy's, and Family... and the stupid moments that just never end... Mwa

Exquisite Catastrophe!!!!

2007-12-07T07:35:00.000+02:00

EQUISITE CATASTROPHE

I drown in my dreams of him
An extreme I know

His soul is battered and damaged
If I live without him
My reality would cave in

It doesn’t feel right
I don’t know what he desires
He is exquisite
Or is he an exquisite catastrophe
Such an exquisite extreme

If I could only hold on to
The tears and the laughter
He holds more joy
Than a soul should take

He is magic and myth
Stronger than I believe
I long for Love
But will he give me the logic

He is happy hysterical
I need a phenomenon

His touch is soft and tender
But he is chipped at the ends
I never get enough of him
Yet he is more than I can take

HE IS MY EXQUISITE EXTREME

BY: Kelly Ansara!!!!!

REDHEADS REALLY DO HAVE MORE FUN!!!!!

2007-11-28T15:42:00.000+02:00

I Have always asked that question. Who really does have more fun...????

Blondes.....

Brunettes....

Or Redheads.....

Well after snatching my long lost independance for me myself and I, I discovered I am having more fun... Ok ok.. Bringing you back to the picture. I DYED MY HAIR RED!!!!!!!

okok there I said it infact I yelled it from the dingy room (my study) I am typing my Blog. Yes I dyed my hair red, and I love it. I think its the most daring thing I have ever done, well after cutting my long long hair I had in high school to the short bob I have now I think it liberated me in some way you know... like starting a new story discarding the regrets, the mistakes to take on a very new exciting Journey. Fine as cliche as I am beginning to sound we all know its true. I feel like a new person, eventhough the only part of me that has changed is my hair colour, I feel older and wiser to take the reins and guide my life in the direction it should go. When I arrived home from Cape Town (where I was on Holiday at the time of the hair dying) my mothers first reaction was "YOU LOOK LIKE YOUR GRANDMOTHER" she squealed, and my reaction was a cheeky grin... I knew that but for once she had no say in what the outcome was????? Don't get me wrong my mother Rocks and I love her dearly, but that will never change the enormity of our similarities (The main cause to all our fights and disagreements), and so the more she wasn't involved in the action the more liberated I felt. So here is to the Liberation of Independance!!!!!!!!!!!!

And maybe Blondes do have more fun after all... But I as a redhead am having a blast!!!!!!!!!!

Boom Boom!!!!

2007-11-16T13:57:00.000+02:00

Today blaring down the highway, the wind whipping through my hair and somehow releasing all the problems I had swimming in my head (cleaning out cobwebs out that desserted cupboard you have neglected for 8 years)... and My radio Twitches and BOoOoM this song blares out my Radio as if some force is telling me something... I half swerve into the car next to me, I got such a fright as the song's beat began...

It was "Wake Me Up" by Wham, Ok Ok it was way before my time but still somehow I sing-a-along as if it was my favourite song ever... And this feeling washes over me and All I can think of Are my friends... the time we went to a Finkelstiens Concert and My pants fell off, and the time we ditched a friends party to attend the jeppe fireworks where infact I was pinched on the bum for the first time. The one time we compared our boob sizes infront of a bunch of matric boys who we never saw...

The movie dates we had, the coffee's we drank, the Boys we yearned for then dated then hated then cried when they dumped us. The Challenges we faced sexually, personally, and emotionally. I miss my friends and no we haven't drifted apart but we spent every waking moment together, ate lunch together copied homework and hung out.

I am dedicating this Post to them... This is to GEN X...

Mwah
I love you guys!!!!!!!

KeLsO

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Terrified!!!

2007-11-12T22:41:00.001+02:00

Have you ever had a bad dream...No really.

The kind that forces you awake screaming and to your surprise nothing is escaping your mouth, and you draw thin cold air that never fills your lungs...Your body is cold and you feel the sweat seeping out your pores. Your body shivers because you remember the fear in the pit of your body...It scares you because How can anything that makes you feel so terrified, feel so real. You still the smell the blood, the terror.

You try and close your eyes again and 9 out of 10 your sub conscious relieves you and it doesn't take you on that terrifying journey, but the 1 out of 10 times it will make you relive the nightmare you dread every night since you were 6, which was the cause of your bed wetting or night terrors...

These dreams chill me to the bone and I would rather stay awake than live through that because my malicious sub conscious has no mercy and a family member or friend always "takes the cake" if you will...

My feet will go cold and my lungs never seem to fill up with the 2litres of air that it usually takes in. I feel the hollow depth in the pit of my stomach and the zing of fear and anxiety prickling down my spine...

I climb out of bed to show myself that this isn't reality, my feet hit the cold wood floors and it creaks (it usually doesn't), but your mind plays tricks on you while each sound triggers boarder line heart failure. I walk down the passage, a never ending darkness, though I have lived in this house for 18 years I know few steps ahead and to the right the bathroom doorway is there. The one constant thing is the position of the Door I know so well.... I feel for the tap in the basin... block the plug and fill it with ice cold water to compliment my cold icy sweat. I lean into the basin to feel the water numb my face, and then

a hand pushes my head further into the water, Its not my hand its big and strong and pushing me deeper into the basin. My lungs fill with icy cold water and my chest feels it might burst. I struggle jerking and screaming, which only forces bubbles out my mouth. My mind screams FIGHT!!! but I don't have a choice, my arms are waving and kicking to free myself and allow the sweet taste of air through my chest instead of the water. I taste the dread, and fear in the water

I know this is it... and the hand lifts I turn around to see my attacker or to run I haven't quiet decided

But there is no one.... just air and darkness.....

First things first!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-11-12T22:41:00.000+02:00

OK...OK

As you may have guessed I am here...Ready to share and experience...(oh how original)... I wanna put my ramblings and systematic failures of my life out there to the rest of the world because it isn't embarrasing enough doing it in public....

Mwa

So allow this sorry Varsity student to bubble and concoct a potion ready to devirginise her and share her with the world....

Peace out...

KeLsO

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Haphazard Ramblings

My (Milestone) Tweet...

My 10 000th Tweet

Avril Lavigne - What The Hell

Song of the Day

Song of the Day...

Gives You Hellby the All American Rejects

Nothing...

Song of the Day...

Because this songs says more than I can

What am I reading...

What am I reading this week...

Dark Poppy's Demise by S.A Partridge

The Old Hags Club

The Old Hags Club is now in session!

So this blog is dedicated to Mpho (Idi) and Catherine (Stalin)...

For the First Time...

Song of the Day

Dear 21 year-old self...

Hey Kelly-Sue!

Hey Kelso!

Regards,Your Older 23 year-old self...

Bookish Rants...

I really hope you like the video! I think I may just try it!

Meet Betsy...

I got the most amazing early birthday gift!

I never thought I could love it this much!

BETSY!

A vlog to make you smile...

So check it out here

If you love books check out the blog!!

Things I love...

Things I love!

Before the Worst...

The 100% perfect girl...

Haruki Murakami on seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning...

Keep Calm and Carry on

Fleetwood Mac - Rumours (1977)

Go Your Own Way - 1977

Calling all Bootcampers!!!

Dear Kyla Justine...

Stupid Cupid

Fear - The Silent Predator

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE (Part 4)...

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE... (Part 3)

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE... Part 2

2010 ROCKED BECAUSE Part 1

Back by Popular Demand

Belong to Me by Marisa de los Santos

SOCCER FEVER

REBECCA BY DAPHNE DU MAURIER

1 SATURDAY, 8 CUPS OF TEA, 6 SCARVES, 2 OLD DUCKS & 1 MUSICAL

BACK IN 5 MINUTES

21 GOING ON 18

FREE TO BLOG

Saving the World one “Blue-unknown-author-with-surrender-in-the-title” book at a time...

A READER’S ADDICTION: THE FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY

BOOKENDS OF SMOKEY DAYS = JOURNALISM PART 1

BLOGGING FOR MARKS... SELL-OUT OR OVERACHIEVER???

I WRITE THIS LETTER BECAUSE I MISS YOU...

ALL GROWED UP

I *Heart* Myself...<3

TRIPLE H...

COVERED IN BIRD POOP!!!

WHAT TODAY HOLDS???

"TO DO AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE!"

MISTAKABLY MANLY!!!!

THE DAY I VOTED...

JUST PLAIN VANILLA

THE FAT-KID CLUB

KARMA'S B!@#...

20 THINGS TO MAKE MY IMAGINATION TAKE OVER ...

RAGING FROM MINOR IRRITATION

TAKING INVENTORY IN 10 THINGS

PIZZA SLICES AND GOLDEN NUGGETS

CONDITION OF SOLITUDE...

STUPIDITY THE NEW EPIDEMIC!!!

Kelly is currently Blogging...

RIDING THE WAVES...

Picture Perfect Princess

Gives You Hell
by the All American Rejects

Regards,
Your Older 23 year-old self...

I Heart Myself...<3