November 2008 Archives

Before I explain today's rather titillating title...

Nothing else ever came of last week's horrorscope. Remember? The one that had promised me that my dreams would come true on Thursday?

Well, it didn't.

So I thought, maybe they meant THIS Thursday. But apparently not, because it's already 9pm here, and, well, naught. I'm still in South Africa. I'm still unpublished. I'm still broke.

But!

Let's not allow a dark cloud of despair to mar our usual sunny dispositions, shall we?

Because we can always make someone else's dreams come true!

And here's where my Cowboys come in. They have been pre-nominated for the 2008 Weblog Awards! I don't think I need to tell anyone what an Extremely BIG Deal that is!

Now, as I understand it, people need to second and third and fourth and whatever-high-amount-we-can-get-up-to their nomination. That way, they have a better chance of ending up being among the final nominees.

Their blog has been nominated in the Best Design category, and with good reason. It is a really gorgeous design, extremely retro film noir, depicting them all as smouldering 1940s gumshoes.

In fact, I wouldn't mind at all to have one or two of them tailing ME around!

Then again, such a pointless exercise is bound to kill them, because they will all simply be bored to death!  

So please help them out by going to this link and just clicking on the green plus sign below any of the Wetwired entries?

 


"Virgo dear, make a list of all your dreams. On Thursday, some of it will begin to come true."

That is more or less a translation of my horoscope as it appeared in last Saturday's Afrikaans daily.

I remember that one, because the astrologist doesn't always address me that fondly. In fact, I've long since suspected that she (he?) has it in for Virgos...

("You, Virgo, aren't a perfectionist. You are merely an endlessly lazy, good-for-nothing procrastinator who then conveniently blames never accomplishing anything on a fear of being imperfect." That was an almost-but-not-even-really-nearly verbatim quote of a previous horoscope. See what I mean though?)

But Saturday's horoscope also stuck in my memory, because it's not often that the horoscope gets that specific and mention actual days. Usually it is far more vague, committing only to "your fortune should change around the middle of a month. Not a particular month. Just any old month in any old (or new) year."

Which I've never taken seriously, because, well, I've never HAD a fortune!! (Plus, even if I did have one? It never says whether it will change for better or for worse, the cowards!)

Now, before all of you, my esteemed and highly intellectual imaginary readers, scoff at me for believing in such claptrap, let me assure you that, of course I don't believe in these things! I merely read it because it happens to appear near the crossword puzzles - which I always attempt in my endless pursuit towards intellectual stimulation. (So what if it's a few pages removed from the actual crossword puzzles? I did say NEAR. And that is SUCH a relative concept, isn't it?)

Anyway, so I've been rather looking forward to tomorrow. In an extremely skeptical manner, of course, but still. I figured that even if all of it ended up being hogwash, my time of fervent hoping mild curiosity would not all have been for naught since Thursday is, after all, just a day away from the weekend. Which would immediately give me something else to look forward to.

(Even if I do still spend all of my weekends alone. By myself. Solitary.)

When I woke up today, there was no indication that this would be a supremely remarkable day.

I staggered to the kitchen, as always, blindly following the intoxicating scent of coffee.

Then, once I had been sufficiently caffeinated (which really, is never), I begun researching and writing, as always. (No need for all of you to know that I procrastinate and get distracted with blog-reading for hours and hours first!)

I posted a story to this community blog site I also write for.

And carried on with my day.

Later, I went to this site. I sometimes trawl it for additional distraction research.

And thought I didn't have nearly enough coffee in me and that I was surely hallucinating when I saw this: 

Words. Written by me. (Complete with an annoying grammar mistake which I had picked up and fixed in my actual post... but apparently that was not before some delusional creature benevolent soul had deemed it worthy of appearing on freaking MSN SOUTH AFRICA!!)

AND THEN... JUST WHEN I THOUGHT (okaysorryI'llstopscreamingnow) that my day couldn't POSSIBLY get any better, I received an e-mail with this subject:

YOU ARE A WINNER!

Which I of course immediately dismissed as spam.

Until I saw the reputable name of the sender. On whose blog I had entered a giveaway contest just yesterday, with absolutely no hope of actually winning!

Thank you so much, all of you lovelies at the oh-so-chic Elle Decoration SA blog! Your superb writing, stunning photography and impeccable sense of style are what mere mortals like me can only HOPE to aspire to! (Not to abuse the generosity you are already showing me? But would you accept unsolicited writing from a rather deranged blogger who just so happens to be a freelance writer? One who has always dreamed of writing for any member of the Elle family?) And thank you Putuymayo World Music! I've been a genuine fan of the label for a long time. In fact, during my years in reversed-exile, your African compilations were a constant companion, a soothing balm for my heart-ache and homesickness. And merci beaucoup to Mme Françoise Hardy for having a son, whom I correctly identified in order to win! I think Thomas Dutronc has just become my favourite name. Ever. In fact, since I loathe and despise my own so much (and the poor dears at Elle were subjected to it, as I had to identify myself when I entered the contest), I think I might change my name to Thomas. Non?

Okay, maybe not.  

And thank you, my horrorscope, for once getting it almost right! 

Blown Away

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My love has returned in full, thrilling force, so needless to say, my mind is - almost rather literally - scattered all over the Western Cape.

P.S. In the mean time: hey, Sea Monkey*? I'm not ignoring the meme of the decade, promise. I'm just waiting for my mind to become whole again. Okay, so that might be a futile exercise. I suppose my only excuse is that I'm merely procrastinating it. Along with everything else. Including writing YOU** a reply. (And yes, my laziness has just jumped to record levels. I mean, who else uses their blog as a kind of secondary device to send messages? And I'm not even talking cryptic or deep, symbolic messages. Alas, I'm still way too lazy for that!)

P.P.S. Ever since last Wednesday morning South African time - when the outcome of the US election was finally called - I've been incessantly humming the very first song I've ever written. Well, if we HAVE to get all technical about it, I shamelessly stole the melody from someone else. And we use the term 'written' a bit loosely when it comes to the lyrics too, because I didn't actually even come up with anything other than a title. Which also happens to conveniently double as the first line of the chorus. It goes thusly (and oh, yes, the glorious irony and politics behind the state used in the song which I based it on isn't lost on me! In fact, I see it as sweet, sweet revenge for the fact that the über conservative woman who almost became my monster-in-law lives there): Sweet Home of Obama!

You have to admit, it has an extremely nice ring to it! Except when I sing it. Loudly. And repeatedly. And off-key.

* and ** I have some kind of a cheek to assume that they'll even read this! Oh well, blame the returned love and the subsequently scattered mind.
Hello my beloved imaginary readers!

Would you believe that I actually have a thing or two to tell you for a change?

Okay, so maybe the 'or two' is a bit of a blatant exaggeration.

So, before I share the one morsel of news that I have, let's talk about what's going on in the world for a minute.

After all, that's why all three of you read here, isn't it? To be reminded again of news that has happened days, weeks or even months ago! That is the sort of timely journalism you have come to expect from me.

And speaking of months... let us proceed to conveniently segue into our first topic!

November sees many masochistic ambitious bloggers sign up for a variety of events. Events that cruelly demand of them compel and inspire them to write novels or blog every day for a month. The latter is known as NaBloPoMo (or National Blog Post Month) and I have (Edited: Errrm... turns out HAD) a friend participating. Since I am reluctant to break my head tradition of never in my life blogging daily for an entire month, and since the idea of me ever signing up for something as labour-intensive as NaNoWriMo - in which users are supposed to write 50 000 words towards those novels that they had always TALKED about writing - I've decided to create my own November tradition.

Friends, feel free to join me in participating in NaBloOncAWeOrAForNi(OrWheEv)Mo. The succinct acronym stands for National Blog Once a Week Or A Fortnight (Or Whenever) Month. (Kindly note that it is only the second acronym ever to contain parentheses.)

So, NaBloOncAWeOrAForNi(OrWheEv)Mo is rather self-explanatory. Participants are required to adopt my rather grueling schedule of not-blogging. And employ this diligent habit regularly.

In other, it-must've-been-a-slow-news-day news: Last Sunday morning, I was rudely awakened by my phone notifying me that I had received a text message. It was my sister in Jo'burg (who should've known far better than sending me text messages on a Sunday or ANY day before the crack of noon) informing me that my horrible name has appeared in a local English newspaper. "What, in the obituaries section?" I asked.

Turns out she wasn't fibbing. She brought the paper when she was down here this past weekend, and by George, there it was! My name. In tomorrow's fish wrapping! Forgive me for gushing, but this is a Big Deal, because my name has never even appeared in a phone book. There is even online proof to the fact of my name being in that paper. Wanna see it? WANNA SEE IT? (Hint: Say yes, and pretend to mean it!) Here it is, but don't blink, for you might miss it.

As if that isn't enough to make me feel even more popular than newly President-elect Barack Obama of the US (and I had actually written a blog post about that glorious occurrence. But since I had scribbled it after having stayed up all of Tuesday night watching it all unfold, slowly, on MSNBC, I thankfully refrained from pressing publish. And it's a good thing too, because - like many of those somewhat ill-advised things which one tends to do and which seems like a genius idea in the heat of the moment (drunk-dialing/e-mailing, anyone?) - I realised in retrospect that my post was a TAD on the deranged emotional side and that you, my three imaginary readers, are far better off NOT reading it. Ever. Oh, but at the time? I thought I was employing splendid literary and poetic prowess).

So where was I? Oh, yes... then something else happened that made me feel Very Important: I was tagged to do a Meme! By this lovely creature! And I promise her I WILL do it. Only, I'm not quite sure when. Will it be tomorrow? Or in a fortnight?

There is simply no telling when. (In fact, it might take me far longer than a decade to remember what I've not done this past decade!)

After all, being lazy is a full-time occupation!


















about
is a South African girl living in South Africa. That doesn't sound very original, we know, but you might find it remotely interesting when you learn that she has only recently returned to South Africa for the first time after a nine year, one month and two week (non-stop!) stint in the United States where she accidentally became an outlawed alien (also known, especially in immigration circles, as an 'illegal immigrant.' We prefer the term 'outlawed alien' ourselves). During her reversed exile from her homeland, she kept herself occupied by winning this website (but only after shamelessly bribing the judges) and thus being unleashed on the web where she slowly, leisurely became the World's Laziest Blogger; by being a nanny and by attending sci-fi conventions in search of other aliens. In the US, she also made her sailing debut, her international acting debut, tried and failed to learn the piano, and never learned to cook. She is hopelessly addicted to coffee, dogs (especially Labrador Retrievers), how-to books (with a particular fondness for her copy of the Time/Life A - Z Medical Encyclopedia), and she tends to grossly overuse parentheses (we're not kidding) during her attempts at writing, which you may - if you really have masochistic tendencies - subject yourself to by reading the words to the right of this column. If you REALLY and truly STILL want to know more, you can read her C.V. here.
Or you can stalk her send her some love via e-mail at: redsaid[AT]gmail[DOT]com

The Wish List (Because yes, she really does need more how-to books. Honestly!)

online


comments
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Terra: YES! Wait... you didn't think that I would be this possessed to post for NO REASON, did ya???... [go]
  • Terra.Shield : OH! ... [go]
  • Marco Author Profile Page: Be a bit like serving drinks at AA?... [go]
  • Marco Author Profile Page: I personally think it is a mindset that has been cultivated over the years, and one, if not stemmed,... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Ms. Crazy Cat Lady Pants!!! Squeeeee! Sooo good to see you! (I thought NO ONE was bothering to read ... [go]
  • Ms. Pants : Kitties don't get enough credit sometimes. (All times, if you ask me, but I'm a Crazy Cat Lady.)... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Hey Tamara! I know, right?? That is a tough act to follow indeed. I adored that dentist. He used to ... [go]
  • Tamara Tipton : Well, I am not sure how any dentist could live up to that standard! LOL! I hope your appointment was... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: I'm really really glad that I'm not the only one, Po! Sometimes I drive myself mad with all the what... [go]
  • Po : Those questions run through my heads for various times in my life too, that is for sure!... [go]
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