Tagged: wack shit

Boring tips from a burnt out blogger


SHOP LATE.


Unless you live in the middle of nowhere or Western Australia you should have a supermarket nearby that is open until at least 10pm. If this is the case, go grocery shopping as late as possible. a) There is like nobody there. b) You can get away with swiping bananas as carrots at self serve and last but by no means least, c) you can cop squid for super cheap, try $3.75 for 150g for instance AND in sweet chilli and basil marinade I might add.

 

WATCH MASTERCHEF ONLINE.


No ads. That is all.

 

YOUR HANDWASH CAN DOUBLE AS SHAMPOO.


It s not ideal but hey, it works.  What would you rather have? Greasy ass hair or hair that is slightly more difficult to manage? Greasy always loses people ALWAYS.

 

KEEP A CHANGE JAR.


Because before you know it, you'll have like $27.95 and you can cop some prawn rice paper rolls and a bottle of South Australia's finest (sort of) red wine and enjoy a little solo meal in front of Masterchef online.

 

HE WHO WAITS, MASTURBATES.


I don't even know why I said that.

 

GO TO THE GYM OR WALK OR GET OUTSIDE AND KICK UP SOME LEAVES AND JUMP IN PUDDLES IF YOU'RE THE WHIMSICAL SORT.


I don't really care what it is that floats your boat but get off the sofa OK?  I say it because I care.

 

BUY A GOLDFISH.


It's strangely satisfying and/or relaxing.

 

LOG OFF.


Bye. Again.

 

%&***#@$$^))!!!????****&$$#



Do you guys ever feel like you've lost your zest for life? No seriously, I'm not going emo on you or anything I just kinda feel a bit 'blah' you know?  Not depressed or unmotivated just a little 'meh'. 'Blah' and 'meh' are such beige words...inoffensive and kinda unnecessary, that's how I currently feel.  Work is cool, its challenging and I really want to do well and not let people down and life in Melbourne is going swimmingly but I just feel as though I'm existing lately. It could be because I haven't travelled in a minute but sometimes I think that my life as a gypsy was more filled with drama than it was exciting. No it's not because of that because I like Melbourne. It fits like a hoodie right out of the dryer on a cold day. It feels right.

Maybe it's because up until now my life has been a perpetual Seinfeld episode and I'm not even kidding.  I sometimes think that I may be the kind of person that gets high off drama.  I am trying to become a person that can take things in their stride and just be cool and not over think things. Fuck those guys! I'm so jealous of them.  Sure, they're prolly imploding and may be rocking themselves to sleep every night while they cry and wank simultaneously but at least they LOOK like they've got their shit together right? I don't know, just a thought.

Actually, I know what it is. It's this, this place where we all are right now, this black hole that lures you with it's seductive ways only to spit you out when it's finished with you and won't even miss you when you're gone. The Internet.  It's so fucking self important. It even insists you spell it with a capital letter in Microsoft Office. Does it ask you to spell 'book' with a capital? Or 'newspaper'? Or 'film'? No. No it does not.   These things are not important according to this soul sucking abyss of a bastard. I feel two faced for even tapping such 'tings when I think about how much space I've occupied online. When I think about the little world I've carved for myself here. I am now the OWL, or the OWL lady or that OWL blogger. I don't even like Owls! I mean, they're OK.  They're cute and they have big eyes which I like, because I have big eyes. My nan, bless her heart, used to call me a little Owl because of my peepers but I'd much rather have been compared to something more tropical like a parrot, or something quirky and feminine like a flamingo. But no, I'm the Owl lady. Which is about two seconds away from being a cat lady. Sweet. I guess I could be a penguin? I dunno, whatever. Owls are cool. ANYWAY, I digress...

The World Wide Web. As I was saying, I've done OK by it..I guess. I read back on some of these posts and you could probably see me cringe from space. But it's like looking back on photographs of yourself as a kid when you had a spiral perm (Loooooord knows why I permed my already curly hair?!?) and rocked dungarees with only one strap done up, Timbaland boots and a BOYZ 2 MEN tshirt. Sure I looked wack but at the time?  Woooooo child, I was rocking 'dem dungarees. I thought I was the shit. It's like this blog...everything made sense at the time.

So yeah, feeling unzesty. I haven't bought new threads in ages, I'm not even pumped to get my nails done, I have 3 half read books next to my bed...no actually it's 4! (I just checked) Oh my God, the 23 year old me would hate me so much right now.  It's kinda weird though because I'm not even that active online as much as I used to be, ya know?  I'm not saying I'm online instead of reading words printed on paper, I'm saying that the internet has turned me into a somewhat jaded and diluted version of my former self.  There is just way too much info on here and I'm a sucker for it.  Nothing shocks me any more, nothing begs for my attention other than all those unread books and the list of movies I've been meaning to watch that I've written in my journal.  I did go see Prince the other night though and that was awesome.  I left feeling inspired and fired up and happy. All great things to feel. But then I can't rely on Prince coming to town whenever I'm feeling 'eurgh'.  So how to break the cycle?  How to rewind a bit and get back to basics? I don't reckon it's something you can wean yourself off, I reckon it's flat out cold turkey steeze I gotta get with.

This is cool, doing some posting. This is normal. But what I should do when I'm done is close the computer, get into bed and finish that pile of books. I actually have to do that because 2 of them I have to give back to friends. So this is me, logging off. I suggest you do it to.

Bye.

 

The sun will come out tomorrow



Today I had big plans to meet some deadlines because they have been making some really loud WHOOSH noises as they go over my head and quite frankly, its deafening.  I scribbled a massive 'to do' list, went to the grocery store, made an omelette, got the odd job guy in to do some um, odd jobs around the house like change the bulbs in my impossibly high ceilings, fix the toilet roll holder...that sort of 'ting. Then I sat down in front of this computer and watched MasterChef for the last 2 hours. Believe me, the irony that I procrastinated to write something about procrastination is not lost on me.

Last Wednesday me and Alex went to the Wheeler Centre to listen to Australian writer Kathy Lette talk about her new book.  *side note* Alex and I are working on honing our craft and keeping our little minds stimulated with some culture besides drowning ourselves in red wine and gossip. Anyway! Kathy Lette! She was great.  Having not grown up down under, I had no clue who she was but Al is doing a great job of introducing me to the Aus literary world - and she did good introducing me to Kathy.  She is hilarious and candid and besides having a few outdated references, she is pretty on point with things.  For example, she brought up the whole 'women are great multi taskers' thing. Is it really that much of a great thing?  No it most fucking is not. Like she says, that just means we are expected to do so much more and why? Because we can.    In all honesty I am really jealous of men's tunnel vision.  They get shit done. Don't get me wrong, we do to but it takes a little longer and we get about 10 things done and they are all 'OK' whilst most of the time, the male human produces one thing and one thing only but my God will the standard be top notch.

 



Like now for instance, it has taken me about 40 minutes to write the above. Why? Because I stopped to sweep the bathroom, water the cactus, make a cup of coffee, like someone's instagram photo and put on a load of washing. I hate myself.

For the majority of my childhood I'm pretty sure I used to think my name was actually 'FOCUS' because that was yelled at me more than 'TAMMY'. Every night before I go to bed I half heartedly punch the pillow because I didn't even make a dent in my mountain of 'to do's but I pretty much smashed my 'don't's'.  I read books or articles and think, 'Wow, I could write like that!' But I don't. I just don't.  There is a reason why masturbate rhymes with procrastinate.

Apparently being a procrastinator is nurtured. And like most things, it stems from childhood.  A particularly controlling parent keeps children from learning how to regulate themselves and from internalizing their own intentions and/or procrastination is yet another form of rebellion.  But come on, blaming one's parents is just so 2003 girlfriend! When I turned 30 I was done blaming Mum for putting me on a diet since I was six or Dad putting the fear of God in me about money.  Your mind, unlike your body, should get better with age and a true adult takes some responsibility for things. SO THERE GOES THAT IDEA.

Other symptoms of procrastinators: They lie to themselves by saying they will feel more like doing whatever it is they need to do tomorrow. CHECK!   Their booze consumption is higher than most because of problems with self regulation. Well...I don't actually drink that much but when I do I go ham so CHECK! Procrastinators tell themselves they work better under pressure so they leave things till the last minute. SEMI CHECK! (I only work well under pressure because then you have no bloody choice to get shit done.)

AARRGGHH! I just checked twitter/facebook - cue self loathing.

So what now? A lot of psychic energy. That's what.  I mean I guess I could beg the dodgy Vietnamese doctor on Victoria Street for a Ritalin prescription but that's not exactly ideal. That's a short term answer to a long term problem.  Google tells me I need 'Cognitive Behavioral Therapy'  but they can get fucked.  I tried therapy last year and all the shrink did (his name was Dr Squirrel by the way, not relevant to the story, but it's getting a bit serious so I thought it needed some comic relief) anyway, all he did was take one of his little books off his little shelf and read what was 'wrong' with me. Yeah thanks for that mate.

I know what's wrong with me! I am God damn petrified of failure and ironically, the thought of success brings me to my knees as well. I mean, it's a lot less scarier to allow people to think I lack motivation than I do ability...you know? So I need to get over myself basically. Get out there. Take risks. Give it my best shot. Keep my eyes on the prize. Block out distractions. Finish this book I'm writing. Do some research for work.  Return emails. Go to the gym. Reaffirm my reasons for wanting to do things.

And I will do all of that, in a minute...

 

My Little Kony



I just watched this video and then I vacuumed the house.  Then I sat down on my bed to write something about it, but instead I spent 15 minuted reblogging things we've all already seen on tumblr.  Truth is, I just don't know what to say, but I know I need to say something.

I have always known that Kony has existed, I just never knew his name was Kony.  I also know that Kony is one of hundreds if not thousands who are running rampant in that fucked up continent.  There is also an asshole named Robert Mugabe...heard of him?  You should have as he is already famous, you buy his Nestle products daily.   I fear to write this post without coming off as ignorant or bitter but when organisations start asking for cash and handing out fancy wrist bands, the cynical part of my brain begins to pulsate.  I come from Africa, I know where 'aid' goes. But what if this is legit?  Is doing nothing better?

The entire video is moving...of course it fucking is, how could you not be moved?  But the part that got to me was at the beginning when his son is born and he says, 'he didn't choose where or when he was born. But because he is here, he matters'  - that is the line that made me want to write this post.  See I have always taken being a South African quite seriously.   I grew up in pre apartheid and came of age during the downfall.  Although we were not separated from the rest of the world by distance like the Australians, we were separated because we were the kids at school and that nobody wanted to play with.  We all know how intuitive children can be, so even as an 11 year old child I knew that there was a bigger world with more opportunity outside of the working class 'whites only' suburb I grew up in and I wanted to be apart of it.  I wanted to get away.  Alas my parents are European, so as soon as I turned 18 I bought a one way ticket to London and with my British passport in hand, I boarded a South African Airways plane and I have not lived there since.  Well not physically anyway.  I am a privileged South African because I had an education.  I am even more privileged because I had the means to leave and live amongst the first world.  But to turn my back from the rock from which I was hewn is irresponsible and ignorant.  Thankfully I am only the former.

You know, I was only 5 minutes into this vid and I knew that thousands of jokes and comments and FB updates would be happening against it, I even thought of some.  Sure it seems a little flashy, and these days whenever an American is involved we get our backs up.  But what riles us even more is when they DON'T get involved.  But here's the thing, the most that many of us can do IS only to like a page, re tweet a tweet or reblog a post on tumblr.  What the fuck are we going to do?  Type 'Kony' into search on Google maps in our iPhone and catch a plane to Uganda?  We know about it now and the devil has a name...so now what?  What does the average internet punter do?  Sure, this might be a hoax (I doubt it) and no doubt the Invisible Children inc headquarters will be Apple product errrthang and flashy as fuck, but so what?  We just carry on buying 'Keeping up with the Kardashians' box sets and  'liking' Beyonce on facebook?  Yes because our money is of much more use there.  Buying magazines with Rihanna on the cover because she is engaged to the man that once gave her a back hand is much more of an investment and worthy of our time.

So I address you the cynics, the internet trawlers, the people with a larger vocabulary and intellect than me, what would you like the average Joe to do if just talking about it on his mini platform that comes in the form of his "i' something or other is not enough?  They don't have the world stage, they don't have signing power to take these rebels out and they definitely don't have all the facts BUT they know about it and they want to do something but they feel helpless.  Being concious of what is happening should be encouraged and not fucking patronised.   You people with your own little facebook fan pages, just 'liking' your non earth moving website is not going to make you an internet sensation.  But then you don't expect it to, do you?  No. You need the 'likes' to get your message across and to sell whatever it is you're selling.

 


 

Me writing this is not going to bring Kony to his knees, it does not make me a better South African or human being but it does make me feel like I am in touch with what's going on in the world in which I had no choice of entering.  Are we to just accept that we are powerless against evil and just go out for poached eggs and soy lattes then return home and tune in to South Park and brush it off as not our problem?  Do I just carry on writing about blow jobs and lipstick and dickheads who fucked me over?

Jason Russell might be fighting a losing battle and there may be flaws in his bid to take down one of middle Africa's tyrants but at least he is doing SOMETHING even if that something is just making us concious and aware.  The fence is such a comfortable seat regarding issues like these.  If we give money, we feel anxious that we are being taken for fools. If we do nothing, then we feel guilty.  So we turn our heads and close the youtube window and go boil some pasta and indulge in the 'out of sight out of mind' stance on things.

The campaign might be fruitless. It might be a scam. Jason Russell might be cleverly using his son to fatten his wallet. But what if he's not?  What is he's not.

 

Take my advice…I don’t use it anyway Part cent onze


 

'TELL YOUR SECRET TO THE WIND. BUT DON'T BLAME IT FOR TELLING THE TREES' - Khalil Gibran


We all like to get a load off and we all like to voice what's going on in our heads and sometimes our hearts because it's nice to hear someone say you're not crazy when you're pretty sure you might be.  So sure, babble away, but 99.9% of the time that person will tell someone else and no doubt will embellish a little because they are now 'a source who is a close friend' and therefore have the exclusive on any information you have willingly given them.  Sure it's annoying when they share your info and you may be left with a sour taste in your mouth but we live and we learn eh?  In love and war, hold your cards close to your chest because at the end of the day, everyone is playing their own game.

 

HOW GOOD ARE SUNSETS?


Yeah sure they're pretty as fuck but they also draw a line under the day and promise a fresh start in but a few hours.  As the guys from Fleetwood Mac would say, 'Don't stop thinking about tomorrow' but also, don't forget to stop and smell the roses.  When you watch the sun go down, think about what the future holds, but take in the pretty colours that are happening right before your eyes.   Then get drunk.

 

FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING.


But don't be a fucking idiot and throw yourself in the fire again.

 

DON'T BE THAT GUY.


Don't line up for shoes or clothing.  They do not maketh the man/lady.  It's lame and if someone see's you wearing it they know how you got it and they are laughing at you behind your back.  Tickets for gigs are OK though, I'd probably camp for Prince.  Live for moments not things because if it's all taken away, you'll be lost and going through yet another identity crisis.  Eurgh, remember those?

 

GET UP EARLY.


Your boss and your anxiety problem will love you for it.

 

GIRLS. PLEASE STOP TALKING IN FUCKING BABY VOICES.


I think the Kardashians are to blame possibly. Or maybe it's an attempt to make the opposite sex think you are a vulnerable little play thing that needs rescuing (ew) or maybe it's because you're uncle touched you in your special place when you were a little girl?  Look I don't know your reasons but cut that shit out.

 

Take my advice…I don’t use it anyway Part cent huit (the last for 2011)



JUST THINK IT.


You don't always need to say it.  Choose your arguments and think your opinions through...you'll find folk will listen and take you more seriously.  But if you can't bite your tongue...

 

...THEN WRITE IT DOWN.


Keep a journal.  Whether it be digital or old school it dun matter, but creating an avenue in which to channel your thoughts will make you more bearable in person.  The only reason I still have friends is because I write because CAN YOU ACTUALLY IMAGINE?!

 

YOUR PARENTS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.


Its the ciiiiiiiiircle of liiiiife! Don't get frustrated, just accept it.  We live in the time of the IN TERRRR NET.  We have information coming at us quicker than Britney Spears has deep fried pizza.  It's not even that you know better...it's that you know too much.  Zip. The. Lip.

 

SMELL THE ROSES.


I know life feels like we are constantly chasing the carrot.  But take time to notice that the carrot that you are currently eating is the one you once were chasing.   Get it?

 

BE MORE SELF AWARE.


Quit cutting people off mid sentence. Quit talking about yourself so much. Quit agreeing to disagree. Just quit.  Take a breath. Listen. Refer to point one of this post.

 

AND JUST LIKE THAT OLD GUY SAID IN THE NINETIES...


Wear sunscreen.

 

Take my advice…I don’t use it anyway Part cent quatre


GET RID OF DELUSION.


I'm telling you, getting rid of pre conceived idea's and what you THINK is the truth is way easier than trying to figure out what is actually going on.  Delusion leads to failures and broken hearts and all the things that make you want to eat cake and get fat.

 

HURT LEADS TO BITTERNESS, BITTERNESS LEADS TO ANGER...


And anger leads to acting out and doing dumb shit BUT don't beat yourself up over it too much.  We've all been there and we've all been powerless at some stage.  We aren't programmed to feel shit all the time, it will pass. So in the meantime hang out with people who make you feel better not worse and do something that makes you happy. Like Kim Kardashian's career, this soon will pass.

 

IT IS WHAT IT IS.


And never what it is supposed to be.  Let this be your mantra and disappointment will be less frequent. Also, some people are just cunts. Remember that.

 

DO NOT PRESS 'SYNC' IF YOU'RE NOT SURE.


I tell ya, them iPhones are more fucking trouble than they are worth. I am actually more inconvenienced since I've had the damn thing because now people can get at me all the dang time. It's pretty good for instagram though and you know, its fun. But there is no longer an excuse to not replying to emails and that is where it bites you in the ass.

 

FORGIVE YOUR ENEMIES.


It will piss them off.

 

There is a point in here somewhere I swear.



Today I feel like writing.  I'm not even sure what about, I'm just hoping the words will flow.

Do you ever feel like you are a prisoner of your own head?  Of course you do, everyone does.  It sucks hey?  I mean, SOME people know how to not 'over think' although I'm not sure who they are because I have never met one.  When we give advice to friends, it is usually along the lines of 'don't worry' 'don't over think it' 'don't stress too much about the future, just enjoy the now' and then when you are in need of some words of wisdom the same Hallmark bars are spat back at you.  And so we find ourselves in the mindful merry go round that is our head and it never switches off.

I guess that is why in the past I have turned to drugs.   A line of something chemically has always been the equivilant of four day 5 star package on a holiday resort in Bali for others.  In fact for me, it's probably better.  The lack of distractions when all you're doing is tanning and swimming and drinking things out of coconuts will just make the epic thought machine inside my head produce more carbon emmisons than a Hummer limo.  Drugs used to be the escape from my own thoughts.  A couple of hours where I didn't think and I felt better, looked better, was funnier and so were all the people around me.  But then guess what?  I'm not a junkie...nor am I loaded so the powdery holiday resorts had to come to an end and I had to learn to face reality without the aid of substance.  That old chestnut.

I don't even think that drugs heightened or enhanced anything really. I think it just lessened my standards and expectations, thus making everything look hunky dory knicker bocker glory! Ah and there's that word...EXPECTATIONS.

Fuck we expect a lot out of people/things/brands/politicians/lovers/circumstance.  When I think about the royal fuck ups I've had in my life, it's been when the event/person didn't meet up to my expectation which led to disappointment, which led to feeling depressed, which led to being a misearable, ungrateful bitch.  IMAGINE life was the scenario you have in your own head?! Jesus Christ. I won't give you an insight into my mine because a tour around the inner crevices of the Obnoxious OWL mind would require you to sign a disclaimer.

You know the other thing with expectation?  The expectation that you know people have of you. It is so often completely off point however you find yourself living up to it (or down) so you don't let them leave disappointed because you know how much it sucks to feel let down.  Fuck it would suck to be Ricky Gervais or some other comedian, they would have to be funny like all the time. And even when they aren't being funny, you'll probably laugh at them and then they get annoyed because they were actually being serious and then it's all gone pear shaped.   Take me for example, I won't go into it, but for those who have never met me....you may think you know, but you're only about 43% right.   But hey, I put myself out there and I can't cry over spilt obnoxious blog posts.

We now live two lives.  Well not all of us, but some.  If you are reading this, chances are you are one of those people. There is the life without the internet, and then there is the fluffy cloud of life within the internet.  I have met great people on twitter (and a fair few twats), I have been inspired, grossed out, reconnected with old friends and....I've had internet sex. FB chat sex, skype sex...you know the deal.  Don't fucking act all coy 'cause you dun did the same you little hypocrite you.   It's pretty lame when you come to think about it, but my God it's good at the time.  I mean, it's not 'real' so you can say as you wish and emerge yourself in the deepest, darkest fetish that has laid buried under a conventional mattress in your mind. Now here is the spanner in the interweb sex works...what if one day, you meet that person and the opportunity arises to do AAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLL the things you been talking about? EXPECTATIONS A GO GO HONEY! God, I bet he won't even be able to get hard and you will now have to do the things that would make Jenna Jameson blush. HAHAHAHAHAHA!  Man us humans are weirdos...like seriously.

A wise man once said, 'expect the unexpected'.  Another wrote a book called 'Great Expectations'. Shakespeare said, 'Expectation is the route of all heart ache'. Somebody else said, 'We never live, we are always in the expectation of living'. The wise John Lennon said 'Reality leaves a lot to the imagination' and someone EVEN wiser said, 'When people laugh at Mickey Mouse, it's because he's so human; and that is the secret of his popularity.

Take my advice…I don’t use it anyway Part cent un


THERE IS A FINE LINE BETWEEN LOVE AND HATE, LAUGHTER AND CRYING AND THE ASS AND THE VAGINA.


 

SUICIDE IS A LONG TERM SOLUTION TO A SHORT TERM PROBLEM.


People do hear your cry for help. You just gotta let them help you.

 

STOP BEING SUCH A CUNT TO EVERYONE YOU LOVE.


You know what I mean. Just stop it. It's self destructive and mean. Plus you think you'll be happy on your own but you know that's bollocks.

 

SHAVE YOUR LEGS.


Not just when you have a boyfriend or in the summer, do it like ALL THE TIME. And then when you get out the shower, cover yourself in moisturiser.  Knees, elbows, heels and boobs.  Everywhere.

 

BREAK BAD HABITS.


Yeah it is that simple fuckhead.

Take my advice…I don’t use it anyway Part quatre-vingt-dix-huit


BOOK A DENTIST APPOINTMENT


Once a year is enough. Yeah I know it's expensive but private health is surprisingly affordable so sort it out.  Getting old is hard on the body so preserve what you can and look after the teeth in your head!

 

SAVE


Even if it's twenty bucks a week...and don't touch it. You know whats worse than having cavity's in your teeth? Not being able to afford to pay to get them fixed. Be prepared for rainy days Owlies. If life was that much of a smooth sail then these advice posts wouldn't be so fucking popular INNIT.

 

DON'T PUT UP WITH A SHIT BOSS. 


Guess what?  If you are lucky enough to live in the first world then you don't have to put up with a boss that takes the piss. That said, you can't be a slacker either...reap what you sow and all that jazz. You spend 80% of your life at work, you should not hate it. Be strategic about it, write down what you love then write down what you hate. Look at the things that you hate and objectively think about what you could do to change it. If it all falls down to 'your boss is an asshole' well then. You've gotta put your decision cap on don't you babe?

 

THE ONLY TIME YOUR WEE SHOULD BE BRIGHT YELLOW IS WHEN IT'S THE FIRST ONE OF THE DAY. 


Drink more water.

 

STOP GOING ON ABOUT WHAT YOU 'DON'T' DO/HAVE/BELIEVE IN.


Great, you don't have facebook or twitter. Woopee doo for you. Great, you don't even OWN a television. Awesome. Happy for you. What? Really? You don't believe in God?! What an alternative thought.  *sigh*