Of telescopes and potatoes

I went to Vangani on Saturday night. That is all that I can say about my visit to an astronomy camp without sounding like I got a massive blow to my soul. Because I did.
It happend when I saw the Gateway to the Heavens, between Castor and Pollux from Gemini and Canis Minor.
Can you imagine that?
Can you?
Every planet in our solar system, makes its way through the Gateway, while orbiting through the Sun.
My mind boggles at everything that planets do. including moving along.
Which is something I desperately need to learn. I have been waiting for my life to begin, without realising that it already has. Quite a few years ago.
The other thing that I must try to describe, is what I felt when I saw those shooting stars. How does one continue to breathe?
I must admit though that the telescopes were slightly disappointing. But, what I shall never forget is the very sight of Orion, which is the name of the pointy arrow that I would see every night.
I knew I should be careful and not feel low about the many things that manage to break me, but how could I not sit and cry, when I finally found the name. Tears of what? happiness? ecstasy? because I am sure it isnt sadness, unless it is sadness so deep that it comes from some other part deep inside me.
So, I said ello to Orion, I waved a weak hand towards Gemini, I marvelled at the exquisite shape that Scorpio makes and from someone I got a whiff of a particular perfume I was hoping I would never smell again.
I am glad I went and saw. Of course it made me feel small and insignificant, but more than that it hurt me so bad, that now I am fine again.

Lion goes out of town for a month

The circus has come to town. My mum has reached her sister’s place and the house is looking neat but everything is crazy.
Food hasn’t been turning out well, and I am scared stiff about blowing up the house. Thinking about taking a rick to check that everything is aright at home. I know I sound paranoid. Wont hurt to just pop in would it? And I think I left the milk out on the table, and the muffins too. So, I can imagine dad’s expression when he comes home and sees all this. He will shake his head and proceed to undo my mistakes. Sigh.
I would be fed up with me already.
Got hurt yesterday, don’t know whether it’s serious.
And listen to this, Marjorie Orr says, "You will want luxury at home and your appetite may be more tempted than usual. What you secretly (or not so secretly) yearn for is to be applauded by everyone around."
How did she know? Which one of you squealed??? huh?

Aha, I am the fridge!

Last night, while editing an article on how to renovate your kitchen, I came across this:
"Vary your cabinet door styles to make your space more visually interesting. Also, if you find appliances to be rather unsightly, use panels that you can install to disguise these machines. Just make sure the panels match your cabinets."
!!!
Imagine the implications!!! "As the clock struck 2, Ally stumbled into the kitchen and looked for a mug for some cold milk. Suddenly, a voice rumbled, "I am the fridge."
Ally screamed in terror as the hulking shape in the corner lifted up its funny glasses and false moustache and grimaced..."

The Spikey of Life

I think I am losing my mind. It is a scary feeling.Maybe one day I won't wake up as myself. But then do I, anyway? Sometimes I feel as if putting myself to sleep is a whole lot easier than waking up. I have decided to set the alarm on the stereo, and not play Cranberries or Aerosmith first off, but maybe some John Mayer or Simply Red. That should calm me down somewhat. On the whole I find that, once I gather enough motivation from various parts of my body a hundred miles away, to open the guitar case, playing Cmajor, Eminor, A minor and rounding it off with G7 makes me feel very good. I also nod slightly, which is a positive body movement, and involuntary as well please note. An acoustical representation of Saturday and Sunday.
Some days are easier but I think the days are getting longer, the afternoons certainly seem to be longer by a few weeks surely. Everybody else gives me a startled look whenever I ask them the time and quickly pick up their cellphones and dial frantically, pretending to be in conversation so I can stop bothering them. Hm.
Met Spikey today, little rascal. She still seems to be very fascianted and hungered by the very sight of my toes. I am flattered, but she gives up easily. Wish she would play with me some more, without me having to beg.

performance evaluation

no point in pretending. there is a masochist in here alright. In fact Ms M seems to be the healthier half of me. While evaluating myself on a scale of 0-3billion, I found that I have scored plenty more than I can count when it comes to people skills (all negative though, surprisingly)
Yes, I don't do parties, I cannot drink for fun and I certainly do not gyrate the hips, my own or anyone else's. This seems to be a problem according to the others I know.
Never mind, it isnt too late apparently to join in. Sure, sure, why not. Hey, is that back door? How fascinating!

spluttering at the government

seriously. how much can one endure? I mean this question philosphically. So anyone with wise answers involving the speed of light and the pull of gravity, can please leave the room. Now.
And, this one is more mysterious, do they ever wash the buses? Or do old puke stains fade away with time and shoe marks?
Just asking.
I don't even have so much blood to spend it on boiling in anger.
Spluttering

in search of lost time

the english translation of the title of a book written in french by marcel proust.
Proust's works were explained by, dare I say it?, a friend.. there.. that's it right there, a friend, called alexander mccall smith. yes the alexander mccall smith, the author, whose words bring me such relief.
How does he do it? I don't know. Maybe it is because there are no cynics in the book. and i cannot tell you what that means to me.
I worry a lot. about everything. about germs, about accidents. i have this great, huge, embarrassingly large fear of death.
I don't know what to do about it. and until then... i read.
coming back to proust, apparently, he is very good with descriptions. I havent read him yet. have you?

scold's bridle

sometimes people hurt others by an unintended or well-planned verbal attack.
I have been the victim of many, mainly because I take everything personally. Thin skin. Everythign gets through and doesn't heal until I cry for a fortnight, buy something expensive and decide to get a dog.

I cannot explain what it is i feel when someone is rude. Why does it hurt? I know it isnt a fair world, then why do i persist in willing it to be so?

I wish I could tell them, the way they tell me, what my current state of mind is, but it never comes out, and if it does, it shouldn't have because I end up sounding infantile and pushy.

But, I have to get this out in a public space, the bathroom is not such a sacred space, since I believe that my neighbours can hear me. Yes, everything. For a year now.

blackberry

i really want to buy one. am thinking by november i should have saved up enough. why do i want a blackberry? i have no clue, must be some crazy new marketing gimmick that has worked on my subconsience coz i am not a brand crazy person at all.
and i must clear once and for all that i do things for me. not for a certain snooty somebodies.
i couldnt give a s***.
so there.

second class gents walla butterfly

as the train, i was in, pulled into the station, there was a butterfly hurrying to keep up. I stepped aside. but it didnt want to get into the first class ladies. it got into the second class gents, where i suppose it did not get a window seat.

Three traffic policemen laughed at my joke!!!

Nice day so far. went on my first assignment for my new job. this was a car rally and it was way behind schedule, my employers are sponsoring it. anyway, so i was skulking around and saw these 3 huge fellows keeping a safe distance between them and the cars... i wanted to 'get a scoop'.
went over and asked them if they thought that the drivers knew the rules... they evaded the question. i liked them very much indeed. and they didnt look at my boobs, which i must say is a First.
Anyway, we chatted and complained in an amiable manner about everybody else. i think that the reason why there are so few honest people around is becuase we dont encourage honesty. everytime i would sit to write an exam there would be those hopefuls who would try to ask me answers and i would refuse. getting out of the class after the exam would be hell, coz they would corner me and make fun of me and make me feel mierable.
what do you get for playing by the rules when no one is looking?
about the joke... it doesnt sound funny when retold unfortunately, its one of those... you had to be there...

water, winter, what

why is it that only the water i drink at home tastes good/????
And even winter is beautiful, when i am at home (alone)?
And what is wrong with me today?