EMAILS, FACEBOOK, OH AND WALLY


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I received an amazing message on my phone yesterday ……… it goes like this:

eBucks:  Hi Wally.  FNB rewarded you with eB220 for MAR’15 on all your qualifying purchases.

I read and re-read this message ……….. and only one thought came to mind – WHO ON EARTH IS WALLY?  and ….. WHAT ON EARTH IS WALLY DOING IN MY PHONE?

Even though this is not my real phone, because my real phone was stolen by bad people in Cape Town, and is probably doing the rounds on ebay, OLX and, and, and.  Which is exactly where I bought my new old phone and did the whole deal in Ratanga Junction parking lot …… where if you think about it, its the perfect place to do dodgy celphone deals ….. anyway.

Back to Wally, I have never been Wally, EVER, and now my trusted and long standing bank has decided to call me Wally, even though for many years they have been calling me Mrs T.J.

This whole Wally business just added to a funny feeling which has been hovering over me lately.  I AM BECOMMING INVISIBLE.  Its an odd feeling that as I age my purpose on this earth has become less and less.  But I could always rely on my bank remembering my name NOW THIS!!!

My relationship with facebook is wonderful.  Getting in touch with old friends and connecting with new friends.  Seeing friends pictures, achievements, relationship status’s and just general ramblings really completes my day.  But all of a sudden friend requests start popping up from people who I really don’t know.  So you start thinking ………..

a.   Did I meet this person sometime in the last week and don’t remember?
b.   Does someone out there just like the look of me and decided to become my friend?
c.   Did I go to school/varsity with this person and they have changed a tad?

or

d.   Is there a lonely person out there, and if I become their friend I might make their day?

So I push “Accept friend request” ……….. POINK …. seconds later a post that I am tagged in appears on my wall – MY WALL – selling raybans.  Flippit, I am gutted, the only reason that the person wanted to be my friend was to sell flippen sunglasses.  POINK …. I de-friend them.  So now I do a test ……… I accept a whole lot of friend requests, and low and behold a million posts appear on MY WALL, all selling raybans.

Is this stupid? no, the Rayban gurus are definitely onto something here.  Is it irritating?  Absolutely.  Is it hurtful?  Well yes, here I am trying to slot back into a meaningful slot in my universe and along comes the Rayban Train and puts me into the “We only need you if you buy something” slot.  What on earth gave them the idea that I needed a new pair of sunglasses?  I am gutted.

I really believe that parents shouldn’t live their lives through their children.  But hell, their lives are far more interesting than mine.  And how can we not be involved???? we are the driving force behind their adventures ……….. LITERALLY …. we drive them to horse riding, cycling, parties, shopping, concerts etc, etc.  Then we are expected to not get involved whist they are doing the adventure bit of adventure, then we drive them home.

Surely parents there is more to life here.

I cook, I clean, I drive, I mother, I wife.  I am on one committee that my one sole purpose is to put up street signs once a month.  For one of the kids sporting activities I have even been cut out of the commitment part ……. I pay, I drive, I have no say.

Its time to take my life back.  BIG TIME.

In a recent episode of Greys Anatomy (Yes I still watch Greys Anatomy).  One of the sexy brain surgeons has to do a really tricky brain op on one of her colleagues.  She is nervous, she is scared and the whole world is watching her to see if she can pull it off.   She is standing in the room where they clean their hands before slicing into a brain.  Her legs are slightly apart, her arms are at her waist, her fists are clenched, her elbows and slightly back.  Her shoulders are are square and her head facing firmly forward, slightly tilted towards the sun.  “What are you doing?”  asks her intern.  “This is the Superhero pose.”  She answers.

Apparently it is proven that people who take up this pose before a challenge or a task, do significantly better at what they want to accomplish.  So, I am going to start using this pose and those 5 posing minutes are going to be used to brainstorm my “take back my life plan”.

Now if you think about it, Clark Kent, when he gets the gist of a drama playing out or that Louis Lane is at the mercy of some baddy, he doesn’t go umm haaaa mmmmm, he dashes into the nearest telephone booth, strips down and soars to the drama.  He definitely doesn’t over think his future actions he just (here is that word again) SOARS with his cape flying and fixes what ever needs fixing, whether it is stopping a speeding train full of victims or just to make sure his chick is fine.

So back to Wally, people with the name Wally just don’t SOAR.  As in “Look, here comes WALLY soaring to the rescue!”.  Nope this just doesn’t work.

FNB, my name is Tanya, spelt T-A-N-Y-A, and I am going to strike my superhero pose and rescue my life before I shrink into nothingness.

TANYA IS GOING TO SOAR.

DRIVING LESSONS


Jamie Drivingn

Yesterday we bumped into two friends we havent seen for ages.  In fact they are Jamies Grade 1 and Grade 7 teachers.  Jamie was driving the car and one looked at me and said, “I found the two most stressful parts of being a parent was choosing the matric dress and teaching my children to drive”.  And this comes from a well seasoned educator.

The story goes like this ……….

The word was out, everybody was failing their learners licence …….. by one point.

Sentences like …… moneymaking scam, and waste of time was being brandished around.  Booking the licence alone meant a full day out of school …… I kid you not.  We arrived at the traffic department at 7.00 am and Jamie was given ticket number 14 – he walked out of there at 1.00 pm ……… now this was to BOOK.

Well the day to write arrived, exactly one month after his 17th birthday, and in went a group of youngsters all looking very nervous.

Jamie being Jamie, had only done enough studing that was required in Jamieland ……. or 17 year old teen land.

All the parents waited outside (wish I had gone shopping because it took ages).

Jamie walks out ……. a sad look on his face.

“I failed by one point ……….. ”

“Phone your father ……”

“Dad I failed by one point”

At this Frans launches into one of those Dad lectures.  You know the ones …… “Son I told you to learn harder” and “I told you to learn for an extra hour” and “I hope you will take the next time seriously”.

Mid Dad lecture Jamie bursts into a HUGE grin and says “Just Kidding!!!!” and hauls out a piece of paper – HIS LEARNERS LICENCE.

I got such a fright that I tossed him the keys …. learning to drive starts NOW.

Now being who we are, we really dont allow the kids to do things before they are legally allowed to do it, no driving, drinking, going to bars etc.  So Jamie has had extremely little driving experience apart from parking the car at home – mmmmm now that I think about it thats about it (that I know of).

So off we go to grab a celebration bite to eat, and then to drive home from Humansdorp.

I get into the passenger side of my car and Jamie gets behind the wheel.

After much adjusting of the seat and steering wheel and shoofling in the seat, he looks at me ………

“Put on your safety belt”.  Good start.

AND-THEN-WE-START-JOLTING-DOWN-THE-ROAD-ONE-METER-AT-A-TIME.

“How am I doing?”, he asks as he stalls at the stop street.

“Very Good”, I say with gritted teeth after managing to peel my cheek of the windscreen.

NOTE TO SELF – Maybe the first driving lesson should be done at a deserted salt pan in Nevada …..
 or something.

So we stop round the corner of the stop street and I go through a couple of basics.  Like how to go into first gear.

Off we go.  Not so rattly the second time.

I begin to notice that my right foot is starting to tramp an imaginary brake, my right hand constantly moves towards the manual gear shift.

Then he puts the left hand indicator on for the first time and the car veers straight to the left.  I clamp my left hand on the passenger window.

He speeds up to 40 kmph.  “Slow down Jamie!!!!!!”  I yell.

“But its a 120 zone” he says.  I have to add here that Jamie has probable spent more time on wheels on the Humansdorp/St Francis Bay Road …….. Bicycle wheels, there is a difference.

We agree that 60 kmph is a good starter speed.

My body is rigid and pushing hard against the seat,  my left foot has made its way to between the dashboard and the windscreen, my right food is pumping an imaginary brake, my right hand is hovering above the gear shift and my left hand is still firmly flattened against the passenger window.

I am trying to be positive but my throat has completely sanded up and my mouth is opening and closing like a fish.  My eyes are wide and nostrils flared.

“Good driving Jamie”, I rasp.

“I know”  he replies.

A friend of ours overtakes us and toots and gives the thumbs up sign.  Jamie waves and the car veers to the right.  Me, well, I dont have any body parts left to do anything.

So there we drive the 16 kilometers home and into the driveway.

As we stop, Jamie looks at me with a huge grin on his face.

“Well that was great!!!!! and you didnt shout at me at all!!!!!”

I smile.

“Well done boy”  I croak.

…………… It took me 45 minutes to get out of the seat.  Now I have 4 years to worry about the dress.

 

THE DANCE


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Sometimes life throws you a curved ball.  Nothing drastic, just a little thing or two that will take you out of your comfort zone for a bit.  Now as this curved ball comes flying at you you can either:

a.  Duck
b.  Run around like a headless chicken without a plan and try and catch the ball.

or

c.  Do like kids do …….. close your eyes and spread your arms and hope like crazy that the ball will land in your arms, also hoping like crazy that the person who has thrown the ball hasn’t thrown it too hard.

Once a year Jenny Davis Dance studio has a concert.  Over the years this extravaganza has grown from her students doing dances to the whole community becoming involved.

Anyone with a deep need to be on stage to act, sing or dance,  (Jenny actually got the “tough dudes” in town to don tu-tu’s and do a ballet ……. well almost) was welcomed with open arms and all had their moment of fame.

This year the Church Choir sang, the youth boys acted and the various groups of people were slotted into the programme.

JOSEPH AND HIS TECHNICOLORED DREAMCOAT was becoming an ambitious reality.

Now this is where the curved ball comes in.  Quite happy with my busy lot in life ……. and for reasons I cannot remember me and the Bokkies are coerced to do a dance.  I seem to remember words like:

“Everyone has dropped out of the dance and wont we slot in”

“Jenny Davis REALLY needs you”

“Its a community thing and we have to be involved”

“President Zuma NEEDS you ……………………… ”

And so forth.

For most of us our kids were already involved ….. Rosie heavily entrenched in the dancing and Jamie back-stage.  None of our hubbies were in the performance.

Practice started months before the event and right from the outset it became very clear that about half of us simply could not dance.  We …….. me being one of them …….. had no rhythm,  we knew nothing about beats or bars or … or ….,  we couldn’t do the dance without going “one, two, three …….. ”  most of the dance was in eight counts, but if we didn’t concentrate it was a mess-up ……. you could constantly see us mouthing “one, two, threee ……..”  whilst our eyes were on Shona or Lindsay (who can actually dance) – hence we were always a milli-second behind them ……. and it was a co-ordinated dance.

We were the Egyptian Dancers …….. AKA The Egyption MOmmy’s.

Add to this mix was the costume – we all had to look exactly the same.  But … we are not built exactly the same – we had the tall blond goddess right through to, um, well, ummmm me.  Pictures of Cleopatra outfits and wigs flew over the bbm channels, and eventually, an outfit was agreed upon.

We practiced and to be quite honest we were looking really good ……….. until the final rehearsal – this is NOT the dress rehearsal, this is the rehearsal BEFORE the dress rehearsal (please note that the word HEARSE plays an important part in the word reHEARSEl ……… I now know why because it IS like driving yourself to your own funeral.

The whole cast is there and we are ready, as our music starts we realise that the rendition of our song was not the same one we had practiced with – in short we were awful.  Then Jenny says “just do it without the music”  easier said than done Jen!

Next night – the night before the show – is full dress rehearsal.  We go on and we were rocking and, so sad, our music stopped half way through our dance ……. we fell apart.

Anyway …… we were promised that tomorrow … the day of the show all would be perfect.

SHOW DAY!!!! In true Bokkie form we all had commitments for the Saturday morning and the there was to be two shows, a 3 o’clock matinee and a 7 pm evening performance.

At 1 we all finally got our act together and met at Lindsays for make up and together time.  Alas for us this also meant that our troop or herd of kids were also hanging out with us for make up and together time …… Flip the Ancient Egyptians used a lot of makeup.

We schmoozed over to the resort at 2 and the place was bopping.  Not only was there an Over-sold out Matinee (this means 250 people were there to watch) but there was some rugby match on so the rest of the community were at the CSF Resort to watch the game in the pub.  Hundreds of people were there.

The show started …….. and it Rocked, Rosie and her group were simply awesome, Jamie and Trudi were hustling up a storm moving sets and doing last minute changes back stage.  And then it was our turn ……… we aced it ……. the crowd went wild ……… they loved us.

One performance to go and then our careers as dancers would be over.  We had this in the bag!

Again the evening was packed.  We got onto the stage VERY confident that we would rock it a second time.  The opening notes to “Walk like an Egyptian” started.

Two of us missed the opening cue ……. no-one noticed it was a co-ordinated miss.

I couldnt remember the dance at all ….. but kept my eye firmly on Shona to keep up.

And then it happened ……….. half way through the song/dance ……. we hear DOEF CRASH SMASH – and the Resort is plunged into the deepest darkness.

“What happened”  We hear as we are all frozen in some Egyptian pose.

“Someone has fallen off the stage”  We hear

That got us all moving ……. one of the Bokkies was hurt.

We rushed over to where the DOEF CRASH SMASH happened and there lay a Bokkie in full Egyptian attire crumpled on the floor.  The remains of the piping hot stage light shattered around her.  She was making the most peculiar noises.

“Are you hurt?”  I ask …… DUM QUESTION

Funny noise comes up at me

“…….. can you move?”

The light come on ……

We see one of our precious Bokkies lying in the shattered glass.

She is crying ……… crying with hysterical laughter.

She gets back on stage and we all sort of finish the dance and the hobble back stage.  We are all now hysterical, black Egyptian make-up is streaming down our faces, we are relieved …. our Bokkie is fine.

Back stage pandemonium has broken out …….. the whole cast thinks that someone has been seriously injured.  The Doctor (who very handily was back stage … he was part of the cast) couldn’t get near his potential patient, we are all rolling on the floor with laughter.  The poor man didn’t know who was injured because we were all dressed identically and we were all carrying on like seriously injured imbeciles.

Jenny rushes backstage – she also couldn’t work out who fell.

Once she worked out that we were all just idiots, but not injured idiots she said these words:

“Would you mind going on and finishing the Dance if you are all OK”

“Oh Ja!  sure not a problem …..”  We all had officially lost our minds.

We did it …… Sort of …… The crowd went wild.

Anyway, back to the curved ball.  This dance was such an amazing experience.  I have now decided to embrace curved balls in the future.  It took me out of my comfort zone.  It didn’t cost me a fortune – actually pittance.  I met amazing new people.  I had experiences that I never would have had.

It has also added another fun memory, to the already bursting memory bag with me and my friends.

In the end that is what it is all about ….. memories, OH!!!! and lots of laughs.  OH!!!! and lots of photos ………… did I tell you about the Youtube video? ………..

THE DIET (AT LAST) THE FIRST WEEK


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Its taken me about 20 years to realise that I just may be a bit overweight!  I think that I have been in denial for about 20 years about just how I look.  I swear that every time I looked at the mirror I saw Demi Moore staring back at me.

So, it took the dreadful, harsh and unforgiving lighting in the Woolies changing room as well as the dreadful, harsh and unforgiving sizing of Woolies clothes, to actually make me see the light – as dreadful as it might be.

So ……… I have a plan:

a.  Firstly find a shake of some sorts to make sure I have breakfast – I personally think that not eating breakfast for 20 years has made me fat.

b.  Find a diet buddy and use bbm to motivate each other.

c.  Stick to my diet.

d.  Do some sort of formal exercise for half and hour per day.

So I find a shake, to be quite honest they all seem much of a muchness, they all offer at least 1kg weight loss per week if you replace TWO meals a day with their shake and follow a mild exercise plan as well as a kilojule controlled meal plan – MAN!!!  there is only one meal left and really should it be kilojule controlled?

So day one starts ……….. with high hopes I shake up my shake and sluk it down.

“IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY”  My brain is screaming to me.  I haven’t eaten breakfast in 20 years and now when I decide to go on a diet my brain decides its hungry at 7.00 am.

To keep myself busy I read the pamphlet a tad further than “replace two meals a day and follow a mild exercise plan as well as a kilojule controlled meal plan”  it say ……… and I quote:

“Take a CANDID photograph of yourself to check on your progress”.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME …………….. CANDID is not quite the adjective I would use to motivate myself.  Roll on the floor laughing, must I be naked in the photograph and look very sad?, in my underwear? (got to go back to Woolies – harsh lights and unforgiving sizes), fully clothed? (a tent) – sorry I dont know who the bright spark was that inserted that into the instruction.

Oh …… all the instructions that you must drink a minimum of two liters of water a day.

Finding a diet buddy was dead easy, in fact there are 3 of us.  We have formed a bbm group called – wait for it – “The Disappearing Act” – Cool name huh?  The plan is in order to motivate each other we will bbm our food diary as and when ANYTHING foodie and liquid enter our mouths.  The plan is two fold, firstly it is going to be interesting to see exactly what we are eating per day – fat doesn’t make its way onto our hips telepathically, and, secondly we can see that we are all human and make mistakes.

So here I am ….. 10 am on the first day of my diet ……. sitting on the loo …..  and I am sorry to say that I have my phone in my hand and “The Disappearing Act” lines are cooking.

Me:  1 shake, 1 coffee, 2 sugars, fat free milk

“IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY”

Other 1 :  Coffee, 2 sugars, fat free milk

“IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY,IMHUNGRY”

Other 2 :  2 Iced tea, bacon and avo salad, then she kicks us in the teeth and sends us a photo and the words “OK I cheat!  half a slice of ganache and ice-cream”  KICK HER OUT THE GROUP!  or “THIS WOMAN NEEDS SERRRRRIUS HELP”

“IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY, IMHUNGRY”  I am really getting tired of my brain here, I have 3 kids and a hubby that nag me all the time I really cant deal with my brain doing it too.

I get up off the loo, wash my hands and sterilize my phone – not taking phone to loo again.

I last till lunch time and have my second shake.

Now the exercise part.  The Disappearing Act have decided that we can run to lose weight.  HUGE problem here – I DON’T RUN, anyway in the spirit of losing weight I decide to go with them.

We rock up at Other 1’s house and first we measure and weigh ourselves – between us we have to lose a massive 60 kgees, which will make us each 60 kgees.  If you think about it between us we are carrying another group member – its d disgusting!

We stretch for two seconds and off we gallop.  By step 100 (yes I counted) I am poked!  My running isn’t the sort of sexy looking stride, its a sort of jagged little bounce around where three steps take me about 20 cm.  The plan is to run 6,2 kays – at this pace I will be back next year!  Other 1 and 2 are chatting away, I can barely breathe.

“huff, huff, you guys carry on”

Off they stride, chatting away and looking very “Chariots of Fire”ish.

The plan WAS that 6.2 kays would take about 40 minutes – so I decide to run/walk/shuffle and wobble one way for twenty minutes and turn around and head back to Other 1’s house so that we can all meet at the same time.

I walk (fast) …… but each time I hear a car I break into a Chariots of Fire stride – my hair is blowing in the wind, there is a smile on my face, I wave at the car – the minute it rounds a corner I collapse – 4 cars later I am finished.

Now the first 20 minutes I swear were all uphill so I turn around and see a lovely downhill beckoning ………. piece of cake!

I start trotting down the hill, I go faster and faster, little itsy bitsy steps eating up the centimeters.  Now I’m getting tired – I CANT STOP – faster and faster I go, my 20 extra kilograms giving me momentum and push – a car comes past and I cant even lift my hand to wave, my hair is stuck to my scalp – I AM IN REAL TROUBLE HERE!!!!!  HELP!!!

Off I am zooting, I cant breathe, I cant stop, I cant take this anymore!  Eventually I come to Other 1’s house and I crash land into a tastefully piece of driftwood she has in her front garden.  After dusting pieces of wood out of my clothes, smooth my hair and get my breathing into check I saunter into her house – It has taken me 7 minutes to do the return journey.  Her hubby says “how was it?”.  “Piece of cake”  I lie …………. because I cant talk anymore I leave.  Get into my car and light a ciggie.  Half way home I meet Other 1 and Other 2 striding on the home stretch to Other 1’s house.  “How did it go?”  – “Great!”  I lie.  “Gotta go home and feed the masses ……..”  Gratefully I drive off.

Day One of Diet finished ……….. it was hell but it was fine.  Now I am on Day 4 but I have also given up running.

In the words of Holly Branson (yip …….. Richards daughter):

“If you want to go fast, go alone.  If you want to go far, go together”  I hope that The Disappearing Act are going to go far together ……… hopefully not in running shoes.