MATURED LIKE A GOOD CHEESE

Eventually one will reach a point when one stops lying about ones age and starts bragging about it. Hmmm… I do not think I will ever reach this point. I will forever lie about my age, always adding on (at this point in time, obviously around the 40 mark, I’ll be doing the opposite) at least one year. I am not sure why I do this, it’s like a built in mechanism that kicks in usually after the 6 month age mark. For example, someone asked me the other day how old I was, I said 26. Lie! Obviously my birth certificate and I have a differing opinion on the matter but truth be told I am still 25. I will be 25 for the next 36 hours and only THEN will I be 26. But as far as I am concerned, I was 26 on the day after the 6 months timeline from my 25th birthday. I think it has something to do with the way runners approach distances.

Me: So how far did we run today?
Fellow Runner: Garmin says 28.6kms.
Me: Great, so we ran 30kms, it feels wonderful!
Thunder: So Crazii, how far did you run today?
Me: We ran 30kms, isn't that awesome!

We like to round up; it makes us feels like we've achieved more! And really, who’s going to quibble over a measly 1.4kms anyway… pffft! Anyway, I disgress. Age is something that woman have spent many a sleepless night, age defying moisturizers and countless cosmopolitans talking over and trying to come to terms with. I for one am not afraid of ageing, I’m afraid that I will never be taken seriously and therefore tend to elaborate on my current tenure on this planet. Obviously, when I get MUCH older, people will of course take me seriously and then i'm sure at that point i'll be trying my darndest to be the funny/light-hearted/cool dude without a care in the world... ah, the joys of being female!

Anway, it has been awesome being 25. There were often moments when I actually shouted my CORRECT age from the rooftops. It was an age I had always wanted to be and I must say (excluding all the nasty things that have happened in 2009) being 25 has been great! I’ll be sad to say goodbye , but bring on being 26, a birthday lunch with champers, friends and family and being surrounded by the people that love you and you love in return!

Happy birthday to Me (And Crazii’’s Dad! Happy birthday to you too!)

PET HATES - PART 1

Before I even begin this post, I must give credit to Mabel for the idea and a fair amount of the structure surrounding today’s rant. Her clever large cosmic brain decided to create a virtual list of Pet Hates that could survive the test of time and make explaining to stupid people, why you’re face has screwed up into a bad Picasso painting, relatively simple. Hence the list. My list for today will consist of 10 Pet Hates that I have. This list will, without a doubt, in due course grow large and more elaborate as I can sense my irritability factor increasing exponentially in proportion with my age, my boss and stupid people. But for today, just 10.

1. Sunday drivers on every other day of the week. Seriously, I’m late for work already and now you’re taking a pre-pushing up daisies drive along my already congested work route, move!

2. Those tops that irritating little chicks girls wear that are tight at the bottom and loose elsewhere. Seriously, they make ALL woman look like tents, yes, even Kate Moss! Buy a mirror or acquire some fashion sense! (I know this is harsh and it purely comes from the fact that I can’t wear them… this is a personal reflection of my inability to like tents, tent top wearers, please do not take offence)

3. My Boss. In general, but especially when he blames me for his shoddy memory. Like it’s my job to remind you to remember the simple things like take your drivers licence when you go out driving you fool!, arg!

4. Taxi Drivers… enough said.

5. Pedestrians who think they are the Incredible Hulk. Seriously, I am in a moving piece of metal going 60kms an hour, I promise you I will win!

6. Little kick-me-rat-dogs. These little drain-cloggers always go, mincing along, to have a chat with the biggest dogs in the park. Seriously little mongrel, are you looking in the same mirror as the tent top chicks or the pedestrians… you will loose. That Alsatian could actually just sit down and you’d be but a memory. Wait, what am I saying, go ahead little rat, bark away!

7. Estate Agents. I think they all got a degree in stupidity and BS. Seriously, please do not try and convince me that the house faces north and the afternoon sun casts a warm light on the internal patio when it is blatantly obvious when the lounge looks at the mountain and the internal courtyard is dark and cold, that you are lying! I am not an idiot, unlike you!

8. My personal inability to tell someone when I don’t want to do something or don’t like something. Why am I not brave enough to just say something, fool! Put your big girl panties on Crazii and deal with it!

9. Woman with mascara that looks little caterpillars have started nesting in the eye lashes. Mirrors ladies, refer to point 2.

10. Getting into bed dirty. No matter what time of day it is, I will shower and clean myself before I get into bed. Dirty people in dirty beds freak me out. It just means the next time when you’re actually clean, you’re getting in a bed you dirtied last night! Yuk!

I’m sorry, but I’m having a seriously irritating day. Everything and everyone is getting on my nerves and I feel like I’m being pulled from pillar to post by everyone without an inch to move or breath. I promise I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow, hopefully! If you have the unfortunate chance of bumping into to me today, for your own safety, stay a good 50m away… I bite, hard!

THAT FEELING...

Nothing beats the sensation of falling in love. The continual butterflies doing little fluttery somersaults in your tummy. The silly smile plastered across your face when you think of them. The giggles to yourself when you remember that time when… It’s got to be the best feeling in the world. And what’s better, I get to do it a second time around with the same person. The Cyclist and I are falling in love again and what makes this time round even better is that there are no unexpected surprises, so the nervousness usually accompanied with the head over heals sensation is not there… just the wonderful wonderful fluttery little butterflies!

We were in The Big Smoke this weekend for a very long overdue wedding. The couple is question had known each other for 18 years and been together for 15 of those years. Wow! They were the first to meet of their friendship group and essentially the last couple to tie the knot. It was gorgeous. The groom’s face as she walked down the aisle was unforgettable. She was crying, he was barely keeping it together. It was one of the most romantic weddings I have been to purely because of the nature of the couple. You could see that even after 18 years, those butterflies were there and fluttering away as if they’d just downed a couple of redbulls!

The Cyclist and I sat together smiling and giggling to each other like teenagers. We even took pictures of ourselves smiling and giggling and kissing. It was magic! After spending almost 4 years together and then taking an unexpected and rather emotional 6 month sabbatical from each other (and ourselves I think), we’ve managed to find the best parts of each other again without forgetting the bad stuff, but rather with a better understanding of how to deal with and help each other through.

I’m beginning to be happy again. There are less days filled with tears and more days filled with smiles. I have more of a want to spend time with people rather than huddling under my duvet and sobbing myself to sleep. He reminds me what it feels like to be happy and how wonderful it can be spending time with family and friends making them happy. He smiles at me and his eyes sparkle and I love knowing that that is because of me. He is my Cyclist and I am his Crazii and we are happy.

I love being happy.

WHAT TIME OF YEAR IS IT?

There they were, glaring at me as if I was in the wrong. Me, driving patiently home after a hard days graft and they had the audacity to make me feel uncomfortable. I mean really, you wouldn’t believe it if I told, but not a word of a lie there they were bold as brass staring through the window of Tafelberg Furnishers on Somerset Rd looking as though they were meant to be there all year round! The nerve! What on earth are bloody neon, blinking, electricity power, cheeky plastic Christmas decorations doing in a shop window IN MID OCTOBER!

I was so shocked when I saw them I almost crashed. Not a joke and most certainly very traumatic for the poor learner driver that I almost plowed into while my chin was on the floor and I thought I was in another time zone! Christmas Decoration in October. Has the world gone mad!?! Or maybe it’s just a Cape Town thing. I know we have a tendency to do things slightly differently than the rest of the Continent/World, but seriously… Christmas Decoration in October???

I actually heard a story the other day about a British gentleman who sent notes around to the relevant shops to formally warm them that should they feel the need to elaborately decorate their shop windows with Christmas paraphernalia before the required (and most importantly) appropriate time of year, there would be trouble. They had been warned. They did not listen. So true to his word he went around to all the offending retailers and filled their key holes with glue… Genius! What better way to teach the ragamuffins a lesson than by making them stand outside their own shop windows experiencing the pain and agony they were inflicting on the general public! I think this man deserves an award! Or a least a plane ticket to Cape Town so he can teach our retailers a lesson too!

Having said all of this, I drove home last night along Adderley Street and they were putting up the wire templates for the Adderley Street Christmas lights… SO EXCITED! Does that make me a hypocrite, or just a fan of twinkling pretty lights that make people smile vs. evil plastic Christmas decorations in shop windows that make children cry… hmmmm, tough one?

OH TO BE A BLOND (for a day)

I have officially decided that when I do something wrong, or make a mistake of Michelin man size proportions I am going to blame it on my red hair. Yes, I know this is not an original idea and blonds have been doing it for centuries, but I do actually think they have something here. Think about, for eons they have perpetuated this fantasy that they are actually dumb and can therefore a) get away with making mistakes, b) get away with actually really being dumb and c) essentially have more fun because they can mess up for the fun of it and just shrug and say “blond moment”. I mean, it genius! Brunettes have always been totted as the more sensible hair group as they are essentially the ‘opposite’ of blonds. But us redheads, well we’ve never really be “intellectually grouped” so to speak; other than the ridiculous notion that we are bad tempered. I swear by the false teeth of my great grandmother than when I find that SOAB who first created that notion, I’m gonna… but I digress. I really think we should take a leaf out of the blond brigade’s teachings…

Me: Boss, I made a booboo
Boss: What kind of a booboo Crazii?
Me: An expensive Booboo Boss
Boss: How expensive Crazii?
Crazii: Give or take £200 and a villa in the South of France
Boss: OMG CRAZII, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???
Me: Well you see Boss, it’s because I’m a redhead!
Boss: Excuse me???
Me: Yes, It’s because I was born with red hair and is therefore something out of my control.
Boss: You’re telling me you lost us £200 and a villa in the South of France because you’re genetic make-up is such that you were born with a recessive gene and therefore are a redhead.
Me: YES BOSS, YOU GOT IT!
Boss: Crazii, you’re fired!

Okay, so there appears to be a slight loophole in my hair colour escape trouble theory, but I will not surrender and will continue on my quest for justice (or just find a hole to hide in very quickly before my boss gets back and has time to read his emails!)

Ciao Peeps, it’s been real!

BRIDES AND BRIDESMAIDS

There are no words to describe the first moment when you see one of your best friends standing, glowing, in her wedding dress. As a bridesmaid I was completely speechless (and we all know how difficult that is to achieve), so I can only imagine how the Mother of the Bride and Bride herself must have been feeling. There we were; us 4 girls and The Mother of The Bride on a glorious Saturday afternoon in Langebaan, sipping champagne and basking in the sunlight of a beautiful summer-filled day talking about the times when we were young and carefree and before we knew it, we were all dressed to the nines standing together as the future bridal party of a wedding less than a month away! Her Wedding. My Best Friends Wedding. In a month’s time. HER WEDDING. OMG!!!

We are going to look like movie stars. Classic, Burlesque style, Gorgeous Goddesses that no camera could do justice to. And I’m not even talking about the Bride! By George she is going to look dazzling And that’s putting it mildly. There are no words to describe how beautiful, graceful and poised she is going to look at that moment when she walks down the aisle. And when she’s floating down that red carpet I’ll be looking to see her fiancé’s face, because I’ll put money on the fact that there will be tears.

I love weddings. There is always something magical about them. As cynical as I appear to be, I am a huge romantic at heart and am never able to get over the feeling of happiness so concentrated you just want to burst! That’s what weddings always feel like to me. A room filled with people, that for a specific amount in time, are all feeling the same thing. Happiness, joy and the confidence that love will actually conquer all.

Cheers to the Beautiful Blond Bride to be… xoxo

WEDDING WEEKEND!

I’m off to spend quality time with The Bride and the other Bridesmaids… We’re off for a wee 'Bridal Party Retreat' for dress fittings, girlie talk, cancer sticks and what can only be described as hours of fun and laugher! Oh, did I forget to mention the champers… tee hee!

IT’S THE WEEEEKKKKEEEENNNDDD BABY!

SWEAT AND SPANDEX

Two of my most hated words as well as individual items. And when you put them together Oh Heavens Above I basically faint! I mean really, who in their right mind would voluntarily put themselves in a position where they have to a) exercise b) wear something that is made out of nylon c) wear something that is usually too tight and brings to mind the concept of marshmallows stuffed into a condom and d) sweat.. for fun! Seriously Peeps, this is not normal. So you must understand my complete and utter shock at my surprise out of body experience I had last night.

As a runner, you become very fit in the cardio vascular area of yourself. This leaves the remaining areas, ie: weight training, stretching, suppleness, core stability a lot to be desired. I can run… that is about it. Put me in front of free weights or anything heavier than a bottle of Haute Cabriere and a Butlers pizza box and I cannot lift it. In my youth I used to be rather bendy and always swore that should the day arrive when I was unable to do the splits I would shoot myself. So it was with great pains and disappointment in myself for not buying the .32 special I saw at the Pawn Shop down the road, that not only could I NOT shoot myself but my brain (left to it’s own devices is a dangerous toy) decided that my body needed to sort it’s self out, chop chop! I fear that my brain and body have yet to make up after their last interesting decision (see I Told You So.)

Cue Bikram Yoga. Yoga, performed in gym gear (ie: the dreaded “s” word), in a relaxed and calm environment where your body and mind can release all negative energy into a communal tranquil space. Plenty of stretching is performed and core stability is paramount. Oh, and did I mention all this is done while voluntarily sitting in a STEAM ROOM! So not only are you wearing the word-that-shall-not-be-said, you are sweating before… yes before… you even start exercising, SERIOUSLY! Who does that???

(The next section of this entry is never to be repeated, I will deny it was ever written, call you crazii and get you committed)

It was AWESOME! Not only could I feel my hamstring re-introducing itself ever so gently to my butt check, but I was sweating. And when I say sweating I mean I looked like a pedophile on a playground I was so drenched. And loving it! My clothes, my hair, everything felt like I had just stepped out from under a waterfall. Even Thunder didn’t neglect to mention that “OMG, look Crazii, you’re sweating, it’s amazing!!!” Yes Peeps, the reality is this a) I was exercising, b) I was sweating, c) all of this was being done in gym gear (yes, I do actually own some, but don’t let that get out) with my free will intact and my brain and body chatting away as if they were best friends!

I’m hooked and will be back again for more on Monday!

THE THREE MUSKETEERS

So I got an email from Pop Tart today, so frikkin excited! She’s tucked away deep in the nether regions of Pleasantville Alabama living the suburban life with her not so Pop Tartish Fiancé  and is chugging through Harry Potter’s faster than we could get through a fish bowl. Crisis, I miss her. Thunder, Pop Tart and I used to paint the town a daringly gorgeous colour of scarlet when we were all living in the same city (as well as continent). We did some crazii stuff, danced the nights away and left without so much as a regret behind us! We also all at that stage of our carefree youth had what one might refer to as ‘dubious tastes in men’.

Yes, our first official boyfriends were most definitely dress rehearsals for the real thing! Cue stage lights dimming, curtains parting and 3 handsome youths standing on stage. Boyfriend 1 belongs to Pop Tart, no dialogue. Boyfriend 2 belongs to Thunder, no dialogue. Boyfriend three belongs to Crazii, no dialogue. Right, well at least they all had something in common… lack of scintillating conversation and lustre! Enough said! Needless to say Pop Tart found her Knight in Shining Armour and followed him across the globe to live in White Picket Fence bliss. Yes, they even have pets.

Thunder on the other hand is still searching for her respective armour clad hero. My journey seems to be going in the right direction and I feel the sensation of spinning around really really fast all the time. It feels like that moment when you’re just about to fall and you catch your breath with a “uh” before you tumble to the ground in a fit of giggles like you have absolutely no troubles in the world! Thunder has butterflies at the moment too due to a certain mystery man and is smiling a smile we’ve missed for a while! So all in all, the three musketeers are at least all smiling at the same time, albeit across time zones and continents :-)

HALF THE DISTANCE, TWICE THE COURAGE

It is very strange in life how things work out. Emotionally very often, things that are within our reach are the hardest to see or grasp. Although we know they are there, there seem to be more obstacles to get across to them than things that we seemingly think are further away. In the same way, physically when we prepare for something we have never done before (ie: running a full marathon), once this is achieved small things such as a half marathon are assumed to be easy. This past weekend has been a very difficult journey for me. It evolved letting go of an immediate happiness in favour of a future greater happiness while at the same time running half the distance but experiencing twice the pain and resistance.

The Chef and I parted ways this weekend in what can only be described as a first for me. I have never broken up with someone before and didn’t really have any idea of how the situation was going to play out. It started on very amusing ground...

Me: Hi Chef, we need to talk.
Chef: What do we need to talk about?
Me: We need to talk about you and me.
Chef: Okay, why don’t you come round in about an hour?
Me: Ok, see you then

Now, as mentioned, I have never broken up with anyone before and therefore cannot take responsibility for what happened next:

Me: *knock knock*
No answer…
Me: *knock knock* again
No answer…
Me (in my head): Maybe he’s making me wait because he knows…
My Phone: *Ring Ring*
Me: Hello Chef
Chef: Hello Crazii, I’m here.
Me: Huh, what do you mean you’re there, I’m here?
Chef: What? I said I’d come to you
Me: No, you said ‘why don’t you come round in about an hour?’
Chef: No, I said 'why don’t I come round in about an hour?'
Me: Oh…
Chef: Oh…
Me: Right, so…
Chef: Why don’t you come back here and we’ll talk
Me: Right, okay!

Seriously, who does that! Who cocks up a break-up talk so badly before you’ve even had it. I called Thunder to explain the situation to her and her words of wisdom sounded a bit like this “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, only you Crazii, only you!”

Needless to say we had the break-up talk and Chef was great. Although rather surprised at the conversation and resistant to the outcome I was going for, he understood the reasoning behind it and didn’t make me feel like a complete idiot and/or cow! I want to thank him for that as well as showing me that sometimes the things you want in life are right in front of you, they just take more courage to reach.

CONFUSION REIGNS SUPREME

5 days without a post, my most humble apologies. This week has been a creative disaster of cataclysmic proportions. I have, in the period of 96 hours managed to go through every range of emotion possible, seemingly settling on buckets of tears for the majority of time. My body seems to be comfortable in that state. I am Crazii’s over-excited tear duct. I am her inability to see through the confusion. I am here to dehydrate her over-worked and tired body and make sure I keep the tree felling tissue making business well and truly in the money stakes!

I am tired.

The Cyclist asked me why no posts, so I explained at this stage just the over-worked unpaid reasoning behind the lack of creative juices. And then he said something wonderful. He said he reads them everyday without fail. Everyday. It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside to know that I had a fan. A real, in the flesh, true life fan who actually wanted to read my crazii ramblings. (Thunder, of course I feel the same way about you!) So, I decided to write a letter to say thank you...

Dear Cyclist,

Thank you does not cover what you thought was a seemingly simple comment on something that means a lot to me. Having someone want to read the mindless ramblings in my muddled head is wonderful and makes me smile. So thank you for making me smile, it happens too few times these days.

It is Friday Peeps, it happily never disappoints and continually comes round once a week. So let’s make the best of it shall we!

HANGING LIKE A BAD PAINTING

Crisis I’m tired. No wait, that’s being too kind to the situation. Although being tired is part of my problem this morning, it pails in comparison to the sumo wrestlers on my eye lids, the jack hammer in my brain and my poor liver screaming it’s little heart out “Why Crazii, Why? And on a Sunday, what were you thinking!”. Now I can answer that question quite simply. I wasn’t! Thinking that is… I was however downing a number of beautiful little heaven in a glass blackcurrant bubbles and sucking oh so joyously on those little cancer sticks in a box.

I’ve decided the cigarette manufactures need to put appropriate warnings on their boxes. I am not pregnant or breastfeeding, therefore I am not concerned about the effect smoking will have on my baby. I am however young (and judging by how I feel this morning, stupid) and would like to know, that should in excess of 2 of these little suckers be consumed in one sitting, coupled with some liquid poison I will, without fail, wake up with the sensation that my mouth feels like the inside of Gandhi’s flip flop! Walking around the office trying to pull your tongue off the roof of your mouth while simultaneously trying to explain to your boss why your hair looks like you had a play date with a plug point and your make-up couldn’t have made an iota of effort in hiding last night remnants is just not a good look. Ever. On anyone. So while I try and make myself more presentable to the general human population, here’s wishing you all a good Monday. I hope it’s better than mine!

THE CRAZIINESS OF SUMMER!

Crisis Peeps, it’s Friday! Thank goodness! It’s only taken 5 days of crazy-mind-numbingly-tiring-work-hogwash to get here! And it’s summer! There is sun, there is wind and there are pasty white people everywhere! I think I even saw at least 3 wife beaters on my way to work today. Yes Peeps, burning to a crisp season is upon us and I intend to embrace it with 110% enthusiasm and sun cream!

My enthusiasm has reached such a fever pitch, that Thunder is even starting to get concerned. I am a winter baby. I love scarves, hats, coats and all things furry. I also only have 2 shades of skin colour, pale and a darker shade of pale. So when “OMG, look, the sun, let’s go to the beach” escapes my mouth, Thunder looks at me with such shock and concern that I’m pretty sure she’s ready to hit me over the head with a baseball bat and transport me to the trauma unit immediately for a frontal lobotomy!

Me: Dude, it’s gonna be hot this whole week, let’s go to the beach on Sat.
Thunder: Who are you and what have you done with Crazii?
Me: What are you talking about, I love the beach.
Thunder: Seriously, who are you and what have you done with her?
Me: What are you talking about?
Thunder: Sweetie, don’t you remember, you hate the beach.
Me: Pfft, NO I DO NOT! Who hates the beach?
Thunder: Crazii, you do!
Me: No Thunder, I don’t hate the beach, I hate sand.
Thunder: *Thwack*

Happy Friday Peeps, it gonna be a great weekend!

LOVE… WHAT KIND?

When someone you love is hurting and you are partly to blame for that hurt, what do you do? When being around them makes them hurt more but all you want to do is take away the pain, what do you do? When you can’t do what they ask you to do to take the pain away, what do you do? When they have made a decision to bare the pain alone, what do you do? How do you make someone you love see that doing it alone is not the best option? How do you make them see that what they are asking of you is not the right thing? How do you tell them you’ll always love them and make them believe you?

Love is a strange thing. Infuriating, wonderful, awe-inspiring and lethal. The Ancient Greeks had 4 different words for love: agape, eros, philia, and storgē.


• Agape: general affection, feeling of being content or holding one in high regard

• Eros: passionate love, with sensual desire and longing

• Philia: friendship, loyalty to friends, family, and community

• Storgē: natural affection, like that felt by parents for offspring

I think there should be more. More to describe situations where there is pain involved or situations where there is joy. Situations where there is surprise or situations where you need to say ‘love’ but differentiated depending on your relationship with that individual. I wish there was a way to describe the changes in love. How situations have caused that change, but by no means diminished it’s power. How you can feel one love for a person one day; and another form of love for that same person another day.

Love is not enough. It is often not enough to see a relationship through it’s ups and down, and the word itself just does not do emotions justice in difficult situations.

Love is a strange thing. Infuriating, wonderful, awe-inspiring and lethal.