Re(d)latives: April 2006 Archives

My poor mom.

For the first years of my life, on a daily basis, she looked forward to the day she would finally be able to kick me out of the nest. Towards my thirteenth year, she nearly succeeded in accomplishing that by pushing me out of the nest and sending me to boarding school.

After a year and a semester out of the nest, my desperation to return to my mom was so great, I managed to sneak my way back up the tree and into the nest.

My mom relented, and so for the remainder of my high school and college years, I held the title envied by thousands of boarding school students the world over: that of ‘Day Scholar.’

Every day, upon our release from classes, the boarders were sent back to the dark corridors of chilly, inhospitable hostels, where they were held captive by strictly regimented increments of time enforced by an army of prefects, the most unpleasant and frustrated teachers and the shrill scream of a bell: Fifteen minutes for lunch... BELL! Fifteen minutes rest and relaxat... BELL! Three hours for homework....... BELL! Fifteen minutes to shower... BELL! Fifteen minutes for dinner... BELL! Four hours of homework...... BELL! Lights out... BELL!

Whereas I, who happened to for once in my life be a part of the crème de la crème, the elite, the most revered and envied DAY SCHOLARS, were picked up by boyfriends or parents (or in my case, the city bus) and then we made our different ways through the tree-lined suburban streets back to the comforts and coziness of our mothers’ nests.

In my third year of college, at the dawn of my turbulent twenties, followed by a rather firm push on my backside by my mom, I was sent fluttering out of the nest yet again. One would think I would’ve gotten the message then, yes? But nooooo. Not me.

For, after not even a year out in the wild, in my own chaotic little rented nest in which I was a very bewildered dweller, I managed to claw my way back up the tree and into the safe haven of my mom’s nest yet again.

However, before I could even scratch out a comfortable corner for myself, my mom gave what she thought would be the final push. In a moment of brilliance and ingenuity, she decided that since I was clearly never going to leave, SHE would. Not only that, but she’d sell the nest out from under me so that I would have no CHOICE but to leave as well.

That’s how I ended up in that petrol-scented nest I wrote about here.

And my mom’s plan worked, because after leaving THAT rental nest, I finally and quite literally flew. All the way to the United States.

Here it is a decade later, and what do you know? I have yet again found my way back to my mom’s cozy nest.

I’m rather interested to see how she is going to try and get rid of me this time, but just in case she mistakes my curiosity for a challenge – a challenge she’ll readily accept, I should add – I’m not going to tell HER that!

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!)


  • 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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