It's really quite simple...
Give the teenager in question two small boys (18 months and 4 years would be a good mix) and make her do an enormous shop at Pick n Pay Killarney on the last Friday of the month. At 17h00. When the kids are hungry, the one is due to poo, the other needs to wee urgently half way through queuing and the 18 month old is teething and full of flu, with a 38 degree temperature and green snot. And make sure that you pick the slowest cashier ever hired and that the elderly gentleman in front of you takes a good 3 hours to take his debit card out of his wallet, all while the 18 month old, who refuses to sit in the trolley, tries to gnaw through a chicken polony roll he's found on the floor. And then make certain that the 4 year old has a complete meltdown when you tell him that he is not allowed chewing gum until he's 10.
And then, when she is covered in green snot and chicken polony, ask her if the shag was worth it.
No more teen pregnancies. Guaranteed.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Vomit & Viognier
It's 20h16. I'm on my second glass of shiraz-viognier and Benjamin has just vomited in his cot. He does this when he has a cold, when he has a virus, when he has a temperature, when he is upset, when he is teething, when it's Tuesday etc etc. It's always horrible. He's always distressed afterwards and so am I. You'd think we'd be used to it by now, given that in 18 months, he's hurled more times than I've said phuque.
He is now screaming blue murder and my husband has just asked if I have chloroform. Nice.
I have a client at 7am and am bound to have a hangover. My liver ain't what it used to be and let's be honest: shiraz-viognier is not what you should be drinking when you have a hurler next door. Likely to be a rough night. (and a rougher morning) So be it. Sometimes you need liquor.
I have a good 3 hours of work to do before I can sleep and right now, I feel like I could toss it all and become a stay-at-home mom. Sick of working almost every night so I can have good daylight hours with my boys; tired of being too tired to have a conversation with my husband at night; gatvol of feeling pressured, suffocated, perplexed.
Is there actually such a thing as a 'working mom' that manages to do both...properly? I know that I can't forego one. If I don't mother, I will ache; if I don't work, I will go bonkers. But doing both, and running a home and being a wife and having some semblance of a life...I don't think it's possible. Maybe on another planet where days are longer (and women are robots), but here on earth, I'm not sure that you can truly 'have it all'.
He is now screaming blue murder and my husband has just asked if I have chloroform. Nice.
I have a client at 7am and am bound to have a hangover. My liver ain't what it used to be and let's be honest: shiraz-viognier is not what you should be drinking when you have a hurler next door. Likely to be a rough night. (and a rougher morning) So be it. Sometimes you need liquor.
I have a good 3 hours of work to do before I can sleep and right now, I feel like I could toss it all and become a stay-at-home mom. Sick of working almost every night so I can have good daylight hours with my boys; tired of being too tired to have a conversation with my husband at night; gatvol of feeling pressured, suffocated, perplexed.
Is there actually such a thing as a 'working mom' that manages to do both...properly? I know that I can't forego one. If I don't mother, I will ache; if I don't work, I will go bonkers. But doing both, and running a home and being a wife and having some semblance of a life...I don't think it's possible. Maybe on another planet where days are longer (and women are robots), but here on earth, I'm not sure that you can truly 'have it all'.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
No. You can't choose to be heterosexual. Dammit.
I think that a lot of bigotry is inherited. If your parents spend the formative years of your life saying that they think Tasmanians are epic morons, you will probably believe that they are. Even if intellectually, you are able to eventually prove your parents wrong, you will always, deep down inside, think that Tasmanians are dim-witted.
When it comes to sexuality, I was lucky. My parents were cool. Both of our neighbours had sons that were gay and it was a total non-issue. And I'd like to think that if my first date was with a lass named Susan, they would have supported that. Eventually.
So it totally fascinates me when people that I know are educated and intelligent say things like this:
"It's so hard being gay. I don't know why he just doesn't choose to be straight. There are so many nice single girls."
WTF???
Now I am a believer of the theory that we all have Yin and Yang and that most people exist on some sort of sexual continuum, but I don't think that if Jim has been bonking Ken for a year, he can very likely just 'choose' to enjoy bonking Barbie.
That said, and I may be shot down for this, I do think that here, like in most other aspects of life, it's different for men and women. If your wife tells you that she messed around with her mate Angela at varsity after a few tequilas, she scores 10 points. If your husband says that he and his room mate used to get it on...
"Honey - you know Ivan from UCT? We used to shag after Accounts 101. Hellava nice guy. Dressed well too."
Red flag. RED FLAG.
I think that women are better at treading the grey waters when it comes to pretty much anything, sexuality included. Men - they're black and white. Women meander. Men prefer to pick a lane. I have seen male gay friends try their level best to straddle lanes and they always, always end up where the boys are.
Maybe it's just more faaaabulous there. ;)
When it comes to sexuality, I was lucky. My parents were cool. Both of our neighbours had sons that were gay and it was a total non-issue. And I'd like to think that if my first date was with a lass named Susan, they would have supported that. Eventually.
So it totally fascinates me when people that I know are educated and intelligent say things like this:
"It's so hard being gay. I don't know why he just doesn't choose to be straight. There are so many nice single girls."
WTF???
Now I am a believer of the theory that we all have Yin and Yang and that most people exist on some sort of sexual continuum, but I don't think that if Jim has been bonking Ken for a year, he can very likely just 'choose' to enjoy bonking Barbie.
That said, and I may be shot down for this, I do think that here, like in most other aspects of life, it's different for men and women. If your wife tells you that she messed around with her mate Angela at varsity after a few tequilas, she scores 10 points. If your husband says that he and his room mate used to get it on...
"Honey - you know Ivan from UCT? We used to shag after Accounts 101. Hellava nice guy. Dressed well too."
Red flag. RED FLAG.
I think that women are better at treading the grey waters when it comes to pretty much anything, sexuality included. Men - they're black and white. Women meander. Men prefer to pick a lane. I have seen male gay friends try their level best to straddle lanes and they always, always end up where the boys are.
Maybe it's just more faaaabulous there. ;)
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Type A Organising Tip #1
My head might be a right mess, but my life is organised within an inch of itself. I have spreadsheets, Task Lists, project schedules and meal plans. Some of you will find these tips (of which this is the first) pure genius. The rest of you will think I am a serious fuck up. To the first group - keep reading; these tips will save you loads of time and make your life much more efficient. To the second group - piss off back to the Land of Chaos.
Tip #1
Do you find yourself running to the shops every week to get birthday gifts, mother's day presents, gift vouchers, gift wrap, cards and gift bags? It's a pain, right? Half the time, you're too late to get to the shops and then not only are you late to give the gift, you also have this nagging item on your To Do list. And if you hit the shops every week instead of monthly, you spend more money and waste a huge amount of time that you just don't have. Yes?
Soooo...what I do is I start the year with a monthly schedule of birthdays and occasions. The schedule for a year takes about an hour to do...and guaranteed, it will save you about 4 hours a month. That's 48 hours a year. Two full days of your life! It's a no brainer.
For example, in May, I have 14 occasions that require gifts. If I had to go to the shops 14 times and gift wrap on 14 separate occasions, I would throttle myself with gingham ribbon. At the end of April, I take 10 minutes to make a list of names and gift ideas and I do ONE shop for all of them. I giftwrap them all in one foul swoop in front of the TV (God forbid I should sit still for a minute) with giftwrap and ribbons I buy in bulk from Wrap It at the top of Corlett Drive, write the cards and pack them away in a cupboard specifically for gifts.
Granted, if you have kids, you will always have ad hoc kid's parties each month. Just in case, I have some beautiful kids' books from Exclusive Books that I can wrap at the last minute if I need to.
Two days of your life for one hour of input. Fucking GREAT ROI. Seriously, you will ask yourself why you hadn't done this sooner.
Kisses
Tip #1
Do you find yourself running to the shops every week to get birthday gifts, mother's day presents, gift vouchers, gift wrap, cards and gift bags? It's a pain, right? Half the time, you're too late to get to the shops and then not only are you late to give the gift, you also have this nagging item on your To Do list. And if you hit the shops every week instead of monthly, you spend more money and waste a huge amount of time that you just don't have. Yes?
Soooo...what I do is I start the year with a monthly schedule of birthdays and occasions. The schedule for a year takes about an hour to do...and guaranteed, it will save you about 4 hours a month. That's 48 hours a year. Two full days of your life! It's a no brainer.
For example, in May, I have 14 occasions that require gifts. If I had to go to the shops 14 times and gift wrap on 14 separate occasions, I would throttle myself with gingham ribbon. At the end of April, I take 10 minutes to make a list of names and gift ideas and I do ONE shop for all of them. I giftwrap them all in one foul swoop in front of the TV (God forbid I should sit still for a minute) with giftwrap and ribbons I buy in bulk from Wrap It at the top of Corlett Drive, write the cards and pack them away in a cupboard specifically for gifts.
Granted, if you have kids, you will always have ad hoc kid's parties each month. Just in case, I have some beautiful kids' books from Exclusive Books that I can wrap at the last minute if I need to.
Two days of your life for one hour of input. Fucking GREAT ROI. Seriously, you will ask yourself why you hadn't done this sooner.
Kisses
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Youthful glow and other non-alcoholic things you can get in a bottle
Confession time.
I'm a cosmetic whore. I make it my business to find out what foundation the celebs are calling their Favourite and if it happens to only be available in New York, so-be-it. I search high and low to find The Best Mascara and if it means I need to place orders and buy in bulk to ensure stock of the stuff, so-be-it. I am also (un)healthily obsessed with skincare. It can be 9 degrees and raining and you will find me wearing sunblock and I started using the best eye cream I could afford when I was 16. Seriously. My friends were buying weed. I was buying Clarins. Whore.
For what they are worth, this is what I've found:
1. Dermalogica is super. If you're in your 20's and you still think that wrinkles only happen to linen. On the dark side of 30 when you're arse starts to sag and the skin around your eyes starts to look like crepe paper, you want to be using IS Clinical. WICKED stuff. I still use Dermalogica's gel cleanser and the Multivit masque, which is the best I've ever found, but the IS serums kick Dermalogica's tight butt. You literally look younger and fresher in DAYS. Very hard to find and generally available only at paramedical beauticians and medical centres. It is fer-nomenal stuff.
2. There is no better foundation than Laura Mercier. No. Better. Ever since I started using her moisturising foundation, people have commented on my skin. My skin, beneath its Laura veil, is a bit freckled, a bit red in the cheeks, a bit veiny and a bit blotchy. With Laura, I can just about rival Cate Blanchett. (if it's dark and you're really pissed) You can only get it in the big first world cities, but get it you must. She also does a bare mineral foundation, which is terrific. Love love love.
3. If like me, you look like the offspring of Marilyn Manson and a stray, gothically-inspired raccoon by 4pm, Blinc mascara is a lifesaver. Metropolitan Cosmetics in Hyde Park sells it (at a healthy margin). That stuff rocks. Marilyn Manson has officially left the building.
4. MAC lipsticks. In fact, MAC for anything pigmented. And for their MAC Strobe Cream. Bless them. I used it a LOT when I was pregnant and a lot of people commented that I was 'literally glowing'. Fuck that for a joke. The hormones didn't make me glow, unless 'glow' is a synonym for 'get fat and sweat'; MAC Strobe on the other hand, gave me a visible aura. Niiiice.
5. If you've been living under a rock, you will not know about the new lash enhancing serums. I have friends who sit for hours so that some beautician can glue individual lashes to their lashline. Get Rapid Lash. So it makes your eyes red and itchy for a week. Toughen the fuck up. 6 weeks and you're looking like Bambi.
Kisses xxx
I'm a cosmetic whore. I make it my business to find out what foundation the celebs are calling their Favourite and if it happens to only be available in New York, so-be-it. I search high and low to find The Best Mascara and if it means I need to place orders and buy in bulk to ensure stock of the stuff, so-be-it. I am also (un)healthily obsessed with skincare. It can be 9 degrees and raining and you will find me wearing sunblock and I started using the best eye cream I could afford when I was 16. Seriously. My friends were buying weed. I was buying Clarins. Whore.
For what they are worth, this is what I've found:
1. Dermalogica is super. If you're in your 20's and you still think that wrinkles only happen to linen. On the dark side of 30 when you're arse starts to sag and the skin around your eyes starts to look like crepe paper, you want to be using IS Clinical. WICKED stuff. I still use Dermalogica's gel cleanser and the Multivit masque, which is the best I've ever found, but the IS serums kick Dermalogica's tight butt. You literally look younger and fresher in DAYS. Very hard to find and generally available only at paramedical beauticians and medical centres. It is fer-nomenal stuff.
2. There is no better foundation than Laura Mercier. No. Better. Ever since I started using her moisturising foundation, people have commented on my skin. My skin, beneath its Laura veil, is a bit freckled, a bit red in the cheeks, a bit veiny and a bit blotchy. With Laura, I can just about rival Cate Blanchett. (if it's dark and you're really pissed) You can only get it in the big first world cities, but get it you must. She also does a bare mineral foundation, which is terrific. Love love love.
3. If like me, you look like the offspring of Marilyn Manson and a stray, gothically-inspired raccoon by 4pm, Blinc mascara is a lifesaver. Metropolitan Cosmetics in Hyde Park sells it (at a healthy margin). That stuff rocks. Marilyn Manson has officially left the building.
4. MAC lipsticks. In fact, MAC for anything pigmented. And for their MAC Strobe Cream. Bless them. I used it a LOT when I was pregnant and a lot of people commented that I was 'literally glowing'. Fuck that for a joke. The hormones didn't make me glow, unless 'glow' is a synonym for 'get fat and sweat'; MAC Strobe on the other hand, gave me a visible aura. Niiiice.
5. If you've been living under a rock, you will not know about the new lash enhancing serums. I have friends who sit for hours so that some beautician can glue individual lashes to their lashline. Get Rapid Lash. So it makes your eyes red and itchy for a week. Toughen the fuck up. 6 weeks and you're looking like Bambi.
Kisses xxx
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Celebrity and The Romy
Look. Let me be the first to say that my friend Romy is smart. Not just regular smart either: Maximum Smart (as her Thai travel buddy would say).
Let me also be the first to say that she is complete snob when it comes to pop culture. She finds it disdainful that I am entertained by magazines like Heat and Hello, she doesn't know that Reese and Jake have broken up and she wouldn't know who Miley Cyrus was if she bit her on the cheek.
Not last night but the one before, Romy and her bloke spend the night at the Melrose Arch Hotel. They're between homes and get an excellent deal, and besides, it's nice there. The following morning, said Bloke heads to the office and Romy, who's first meeting is a little later that morning, takes her time to check out. On entering the lobby, she notices a young Black man at the nucleus of an entourage. She looks. Looks again. And walks to the elevator.
The man in question (and his Peeps) follow her.
Man: "Hi. Where are you from?"
Romy: "South Africa. Where are you from?
Man: "America."
Romy: "Oh. What are you up to here?"
Man: "I'm here for the World Cup."
Romy: "Nice. Are you a soccer player?"
(Peeps burst into hysterical fits of laughter)
Man: "No. My name's Akon. I'm singing in the Concert."
Nuff said.
Let me also be the first to say that she is complete snob when it comes to pop culture. She finds it disdainful that I am entertained by magazines like Heat and Hello, she doesn't know that Reese and Jake have broken up and she wouldn't know who Miley Cyrus was if she bit her on the cheek.
Not last night but the one before, Romy and her bloke spend the night at the Melrose Arch Hotel. They're between homes and get an excellent deal, and besides, it's nice there. The following morning, said Bloke heads to the office and Romy, who's first meeting is a little later that morning, takes her time to check out. On entering the lobby, she notices a young Black man at the nucleus of an entourage. She looks. Looks again. And walks to the elevator.
The man in question (and his Peeps) follow her.
Man: "Hi. Where are you from?"
Romy: "South Africa. Where are you from?
Man: "America."
Romy: "Oh. What are you up to here?"
Man: "I'm here for the World Cup."
Romy: "Nice. Are you a soccer player?"
(Peeps burst into hysterical fits of laughter)
Man: "No. My name's Akon. I'm singing in the Concert."
Nuff said.
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