different kind of detox

I’ve had quite an encouraging day and its only 12:00pm. The last few weeks have been largely unpleasant barr for a few highlights (Ian treating me to a wonderful, luxury dinner last Saturday was right up there). In retrospect, that was only because that’s how I chose to see it. I know it’s all about perspective and I have so much to be content about and grateful for (thank you ‘Encouragement for the Day’ in my inbox).
I started my day ludicrously early (6:30am is really early for me!) to attend a Hillsong Women’s breakfast. Being a bit skeptical that any breakfast event would be worth getting up with the sparrows, I was pleased that I’d made the effort and walked away feeling equipped to face the day ahead.
Later in the morning, a colleague emailed me about someone else on our team who had ‘pushed their button’ and they clearly just needed to vent. Feeling positive I chose not to partake but instead to steer the conversation elsewhere. He ended up telling me something really beautiful that his grandmother used to say to him. When he was down she would encourage him by saying,
‘Only good-hearted people cry when something is wrong because nothing is more pure than water.’
You see, I’ve been feeling so temperamental lately, resorting to tears at the drop of a hat and I hate that. I feel like I’m portraying myself as this fragile being with insufficient strength of character and I know that’s simply not the truth. Truth is, we’re all delicate, ready to be broken at any given moment. The only reassurance that you have, and you’re part of a blessed few if you do, is that God is stronger than anything you’re facing. And when you really grasp that, you see that it’s okay to cry because you’re just detoxing your soul.

bugs me

HAHA. A ladybird flew down my top at lunchtime. Not sure why I found that so amusing - but I did!
Think he must have been a male. Probably just wanted a closer look.
Does that make him a lordbird?
Hehe, that lady/lordbird made my day.

the rest is yet to come

I started this blog a year ago today. So much, perhaps too much, has happened that I’m not going to celebrate by reading past entries but instead by joining myspace. Okay, the two don’t really tie-up but I had to find a way to give it a plug.

So, what’s going on in my life right now…?
I’ve been pretty emotional lately. Sometimes it’s tough being a girl. Tougher to be a girl Christian who is in a relationship, working full time, attempting to help everyone and then still trying to keep it all together. But the up side is that even when my instinct is to retreat I never actually have to ‘go it alone’.
I’m in the process of swapping churches. I love my current church but over the last year I have watched as most of my friends have made the decision to find a church that fed a little more in terms of teaching. As much as I realise the importance of reaching out I’ve learned so much about relationships and how important it is to keep yourself nourished in order to have anything to offer. So, after much prayer and patience (it’s so hard!) I am taking a step and hoping that God will bless it.
I’m studying journalism.
I’m trying to learn how to budget better. Where does my money go? Life’s biggest mystery (or my cupboard full of really cute shoes!).
I want so badly to know that I’m getting it right, but for now I’ll settle for learning quickly. The rest is yet to come (I like that – it’s officially my new catch phrase).

old school nature

I got an email from a girl, today, that I haven’t seen in 11 years. The thing about London is that once you have lived here for a few months, the novelty of bumping into/meeting up with/contacting people from back home really wears off and I even find myself recognizing someone these days and walking on by. It sounds harsh but you wouldn’t stop at home and half of South Africa is here anyway, so why do it now?
Anyway, this girl now wants to meet up for a drink and is asking me about others who are here etc. and whereas the better part of my nature says that I should just reach out and she is probably lonely the other side sighs heavily and rolls its eyes and thinks, “Fresh meat – she still thinks this is a rarity. She’ll learn.”
I don’t even think we liked each other back in junior school. Could we possibly have changed that much over the years that we would get along now? I’m not convinced but then maybe London has just hardened me more than I should have let it. Perhaps the key to retrieving my heart is in reaching out to those who are new and frightened and imparting some big-city knowledge to save them from learning the hard way.
In retrospect, yes, I have changed that much. However, this time my heart proved bigger than my cynical side and I did reach out. London is tough but it just means that sometimes you have to fight back harder.

friday, friday go away

Have you ever felt like the world has just gone silent; like you are living in a parallel world where there are people you recognize but the people you care about have just disappeared? That’s how I feel today. Even God seems so quiet. I know they’re all still there and perhaps I am the one who, in fact, has gone quiet. Today is one of those rare occasions when I left planning too late and it seems that the world just went and made plans without me. So now I’m destined to spend a Friday night alone, wallowing in my current melancholy. It’s not all that bad. Maybe I’ll embrace the rarity and catch a movie on my own. I’ll be one of those people sitting on their own who I usually look over at and feel sorry for. I’m reminded of one of my favourite John Mayer (love him!) songs ‘Love Song for No One’. Not that it’s particularly relevant but I did think of it so thought I’d give it a mention.
Anyway, I’m really just passing time. This afternoon has gone ever-so-painfully slow, but soon I’ll have to leave the security of my office and face the world that I have tried so hard to block out today. Blah, blah, wish this state of glum would just pass and allow me to get on with being cheerful. I guess I can find some solace in the reassurance that tomorrow will, inevitably, be Saturday. And so the world keeps turning.

oh brother he's getting big

Today is my baby brothers last day of primary school. While I know that this is merely a formality and he still has a good 6 years of school ahead of him it’s just another reminder that neither he, nor I, are getting any younger. I remember the days when I used to feed him his bottle and change his nappy and that intense love I felt when I walked into a room and his precious little face lit up. I got that same feeling when he looked out across the audience, last week, during his school play to make sure his family were there supporting him. These days his affection is displayed in the form of an exasperated hug when I walk in the front door but it’s more than most people get out of him. A conversation will never end without a quick ‘I love you’ from him and in the early stages of pre-teendom I cherish how meaningful that is. While I know that I can’t protect him from the lure of all those things which may look very appealing to a teenage boy, I hope that he will always know he has a big sister who loves him so very much and who is watching his back whenever she can.
I gave Mom such a hard time for stressing outrageously about his high school, but I’m starting to understand. You only want the best for the ones you love and as you get older you realise that it doesn’t even matter if they never know how much you care, as long as they’re okay, that’s your reward.

hair-raising change

News of the week is that I cut a fringe. Despite positive response from friends and colleagues, I’m still convinced that I look like a member of The Beatles. The problem with a personality that craves excitement and change all too regularly is that you end up making spontaneous decisions that, in hindsight, aren’t altogether rational. A typical haircut, with my regular stylist, involves me suggesting what look I fancy and her looking back at me doubtfully and suggesting something better. This time our compromise fell on a fringe and I walked out with my curls protruding out of my head at their most extreme and my fringe as straight as straw; an interesting twist on the Cleopatra look resembling that of the girl in the poster in the window of Toni and Guy. The obvious difference is that I am no model. At 6ft+ there are many styles you can pull of that someone at 5ft3 just can’t. I’m 5ft3.
But no remorse, I must admit the hair is growing on me (pun intended). Half of my face is hidden by a curtain of hair and I arrive at my desk looking frighteningly Medusa-like thanks to the blistering temperatures London is currently experiencing (52°C on buses yesterday – can people actually survive that heat?) but I like the change. Roberta, a work colleague suggested I look like Candy Candy, a cartoon character who was apparently popular in Europe during the 70’s and 80’s. I can tell this will be one of those styles that my kids will look at one day and ask, horrified, ‘What were you thinking Mom?’ To which I will respond, ‘It was London in the 2000’s. Anything went. No one looked twice no matter how odd you looked.’ Love this city.

summer fun

Last week, while feeling the frustration of being stuck in London as the rest of Europe offers a plethora of summer holiday destinations, I compiled a little 'Summer in London' calendar. Much to the delight of Ian and Bron (just so that they could ridicule me and call me 'cute') I spent a bit of time conjuring up various activities to entertain myself and anyone who may care to join me on my excursions. However, this week has seen my calendar fill up unexpectedly with some pretty exciting stuff! Last night I got to enjoy my little brother as a 'fried egg' in his yr 6 school play (he's just growing up so fast). Tomorrow, Mom and I will be treated like princesses at Hillsong Women (always lots of chocolate). In 10 days one of my best friends in the whole world, Jo, arrives in London and I’m SO excited I can hardly contain myself. Ian has added a few outings at which he has requested my presence and that takes me to the end of July…already. So maybe summer in smelly, old London won’t be so bad after all. That doesn’t mean I’m not still determined to get out of here for a few days and bake on a beach somewhere in the Mediterranean. The world is my oyster…and I don’t mean my travel card.

more to life than creature-comforts allow

Statements like ‘I wish this day would just go faster’ or ‘Why can’t it just be 5 o’clock?’ are typical of my office and I’m left questioning if we even realise that we are wishing our lives away. You know that if you say something along those lines you will meet people where they’re at; its common ground here, this mutual disdain for all things fabric and the admin that results from customers interest therein. The sad reality is that none of us actually wish for life to go any faster; we just want to enjoy our day rather than being stuck in a restricted space with beige walls, surrounded by partitions and people and enduring the torture of the facilities manager who secretly wants to kill us all by means of a slow, freezing, death-by-air-conditioner.
How many people simply tolerate a job they hate in order to maintain a lifestyle that is comfortable? I spoke to an old friend last night who recently spent a month in rural Rwanda. Although he acknowledged that sleeping on a hard floor of a mud hut and eating ‘stodge’ for 4 weeks straight wasn’t preferential, he truly came to appreciate the blessings that go unnoticed when we get so caught up in life as we know it and how things ‘should’ be. If I think back to times when I have been the happiest, it had very little to do with circumstances and everything to do with how I chose to feel. In saying that, I do still choose to be in a job that brings minimal personal satisfaction, but my reassurance lies in the plan to escape the confines of this desk-prison and one day embrace a career that I have chosen rather than merely accept.

storms dont last

I can see the whole sky today. Pastel blue encloses the world in a hug of tranquility and there isn’t a cloud in sight. For some it may be the calm before the storm, but for me it’s really the reverse. The sun is shining and I’m told that this is what we can expect for the rest of the week.
Today the weight of the world is weighing less heavily on my shoulders and I’m no longer disheveled by the squall in my head. Conditions have been destructive for the last few weeks but like any storm the bad weather passes and you’re left to clean up the mess and then continue life as per usual. However, not all bad, there follows a time of fresh beginnings where the old has been shaken and destroyed; a time of clarity when rationality shines through uninhibited by chaos and confusion. Perhaps a little deeper than the characteristic light-hearted nature of most entries, there are times when I feel the need to record a fleeting moment of suffering as a reminder that I too, as much as the thought may distress me, am human.
I fear that I am becoming more English than I am willing to admit; already I talk about the weather more than is necessary but now I’m found to be comparing my sentiments to climatic conditions. Am I bov-ered?? Nope, ‘cause today life’s a beach.

ZZzzzzzzidane*

My thoughts on last night’s Football Word Cup final:
yawn Sorry, even writing about it seems too dull to hold my attention. yawn
Dom’s suggestion that football, at its fundamental core, is essentially a few guys chasing a little ball around a field, confirmed my sentiments. If not for the company I was in and Rory’s odd, likeminded remark as to the tediousness of the ball merely going back and forth on the screen, I may have slept through the full excruciating 2.5 hrs. But a football match is only 90 min, you might say. Not this one! 45 min a side (+ time added for the cry-babies who fall and hurt their pinky-fingers) and an extra ½ hr because no-one had the courtesy to score an extra goal for their team thus letting us get to bed at a reasonable hour. After that time still no more goals for either side had been scored so we got to enjoy an extra 10 min of penalty shoot outs.
Steve looked just as enthralled as he caught glimpses, through half-open eyes, between dozes and tea rounds.
As Ian tried to lift supporter morale, I entertained myself by throwing snide remarks at players during the final moments of the game. We did enjoy playing a bit of ‘footballer movie star look-alike’ which distracted me momentarily.
My conclusion: Football is boring (knew that anyway), Zidane deserves front page coverage for that classic head-butt and all the shame that ensues as a result, good for Italy and I’m secretly glad I watched.
Bring on rugby season, I say.

*title co-thought up by Ian Fox ©

just a bit of waffle and guff about stuff

I feel rather boring in that I have nothing particularly exciting to blog. I did enjoy a wonderful weekend away with Ian and his family, but this week it seems life is crazy, work is monotonous, it’s raining in London and none of that is anomalous. I do have a tan. That’s quite big news. I had made peace with the thought of appearing as a freckled milk bottle for as long as I called London home, but then the sun blessed me with a series of kisses and my skin began to turn this unfamiliar brown colour. I’m still entertaining the idea of joining those who treat the local park as if it were the sandy shores of Bondi and bare all in their bikinis and boardies; as a result, my stomach still gets a dose of self tan now and again to blend with the rest of my body. Thank you Boots.
I’m helping Ian move tomorrow. I have managed to conceal my Samson-like strength until this point in our relationship thus he has merely recruited me to sit and keep watch over his belongings while he traipses bags and boxes up and down three flights of stairs. Perhaps I’ll keep my muscle-power to myself for a little longer.
I think I’ve spun enough of a yarn for today. Turns out I have something to write about even when life seems a little tedious. Or is it ever, really?

from snooze to news

I just received my first feedback from my tutor for my journalism course. When I saw the email in my inbox I actually felt a little bit sick with nerves. I didn’t ever feel this way in school, but it’s so different when you are looking for approval for something you care about.
His comments were largely positive and helpful. Nice of him not to rip me to shreds at the outset - that must come later. It’s so funny to receive work back again with little ticks and underlined words. I looked, unsuccessfully, for a gold star. He must have run out.
This whole freelance journalism thing is harder than I first anticipated, however. It’s going to take a lot of dedication and focus and that which I have so little of, time. But I’m determined to leave 9-5 in the dust of days spent doing something I actually enjoy. When you reach the point where you are hitting snooze 5 times each morning, it’s time to make a change.