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Dearest Kay tagged me.  Now firstly, I don’t do tags.  Ok maybe that’s a lie.  I did it once.  But then I think I did it so bad, that no-one bothered to tag me again.

Things I’d want my unborn child to know, I’d want them to know practical stuff.  But at the same time I’d want them to know stuff that it took me years to figure out.  Stuff that no-body ever told me. Like for instance:

  • There are better ways to make money than being a doctor.
  • Or that being a doctor is not about making money.

See, for sheer practical advice, then the first bit works brilliantly. But then it took me a few years to figure out, that the reason I kept on doing it was for the second part.

Practical Advice

  1. Righty Tighty.  Lefty Loosy.
  2. Don’t run with untied laces.
  3. If you get chased by bullies, drop the book-bag, it’ll only slow you down, and your lifes not worth it. Also, see point 2 above.
  4. If she’s smiling at you, make sure it’s not because there is spinach in your teeth.
  5. If you’ve only stayed in the Airport parking less than an hour, make sure you have banknotes smaller than R200, or you’ll never need to make small change again. ever.
  6. If you notice a defect on something you’ve bought, take it back as soon as you see it.  And not 3 day’s after the warranty expires.
  7. Do not buy clothes that are slightly tight in the anticipation of expected weight loss. That’s money wasted.
  8. Brush twice a day, floss, and use mouth wash.  You’ll thank me in 50 years.
  9. Do not carry an expensive fountain pen in a tight jeans pocket.
  10. Do not spray lighter fluid on an open flame.  If you forget this part, and the bottle catches alight and falls to the floor, DO NOT try to douse it with your foot. Especially if the foot is attached to a leg wearing shiny flammable trousers.

Mmm.  Now the other stuff:

  1. Be God-fearing
  2. love unconditionally
  3. if you find someone you love. fight for them.
  4. do things because you enjoy them, not because it’ll make you rich.
  5. that said, find an easy way to make money so that you can spend more time doing things you enjoy.
  6. be a good friend and sibling
  7. be an example to others of outstanding morality and ethics.
  8. don’t limit yourself. there are no limits to what you can achieve as long it’s done with 7. in mind
  9. Sometimes it’s ok to think with your heart instead of your head.
  10. Make mistakes, but learn from them

That’s it.  There are loads more I suppose, especially practical tips, but I think that number 10. on the second list is probably the most important thing I would want them to know.

Thanks Kay, this was a good exercise, to let me think what’s important to me in people.

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Good day

Just as i left work this afternoon, one of my colleagues offered me one of the best I’ve ever tasted….

I’m in chocolate eclair heaven…

Thanks to Kay, I now know who Sylvia Plath is.  For those that didn’t know, in Dew’s words, she was this awesome poet that gassed herself to death.  Apparently suicide is much more common among female poets, and in fact this has been coined the Sylvia Plath Effect.  But what is it with writers and poets that make them wanna off themselves?  Wikipedia lists about 280 in a category, Writers That Offed Themselves. Or is it that mentally unstable people like to enter the arts, and there products are seen as masterpieces because it is just so outside the box?  And then they off themselves.  Which of course pushes them into the realm of literary superstars. Then they get Wikipedia pages.

No offence to my poetic brothers and sisters out there….I’m talking about you yes, Kay, Nooj, Parasputin. I just don’t get it.  (And no MJ, writing limericks do not make you a poet.)  See, I don’t get why you write them, and then publish them.  I say this because I know they’re not mean’t to be understood fully.  Surely only the poet knows what he means when he writes.

The lay person (me) out there definitely doesn’t understand them.  He tries.  And tries.  And then thinks he does. but he doesn’t!  Sure, he may interpret it in a certain way, but I’m positive that the poet didn’t intend it to be deciphered easily.

I think it’s a big joke.  Seriously.  I think the poet has written himself a private little joke and  is just cracking up at the multitudes on WRONG interpretations made by the readers.  Especially the pseudointellectual readers that think they understand it, and have smug expressions when you look at them and say, “i don’t get it”.  You know the type, they wear black, usually have berets, they gather in dimly lit underground coffee houses, and listen to recitals.  And instead of clapping, they snap their fingers for applause.

If Shakespeare was alive now, he’d be cracking himself up.  All those academics trying to decipher the real meaning of the Merchant of Venice, or The Tempest, or his collection of sonnets and getting it WRONG.

I’ll be honest.  When you guys write poetry, I don’t get it.  And I don’t think anyone else does either! I’m not saying you should stop,  but if you’re making a joke, could you please at least let me in on it!

But maybe it’s just me.

Dealbreakers

I’ve been meaning to do this post for a while now. I guess me actually thinking about what for me were dealbreakers, maybe makes me rethink my standards and realise how prejudiced I’ve been.

I was watching The Big Bang Theory http://the-big-bang-theory.com/ and when two Nerds broke up because one believed in String Theory over Loop Quantum Gravity Theory things really hit home.

Yes.  I am a nerd.

I’ve had a lot of dealbreakers in my time.  People have called me fussy and stupid, and I protested that I had the right to be fussy when it comes to the person that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.

For instance one was health.  I’m not the most healthy of specimens in this world, I know of people heavier than me that are fitter, but when it comes to health I don’t compromise.  For instance if you have type 1 diabetes, and don’t bother to check your sugars regularly or if you neglect to use your insulin it sends out a message.  And to me that message is, I can’t trust you.  Diabetes is a disease with a horrific complication rate, as little as 10 years from commencement of disease.  If you don’t look after yourself, you’re likely end up blind, in renal failure, and short one or both feet.  I’m sorry but If I can’t trust you to take your meds, how can I put you in a position of trust in my life.    Dealbreaker.

Another was mental health.  Ok, you may not be crazy enough and meet the DSM-IV criteria for being a paranoid delusional schizophrenic now, but give it time.  Maybe you just have schizoid personality disorder and histrionic personality disorder, but I just don’t have the energy to deal with it.  Dealbreaker.

Smoking.  Dealbreaker.   Drinking  Double Dealbreaker.

Clubbing.  This is where it starts getting fuzzy. It’s not a Dealbreaker per say, if you stop.  It’s all the other things that go with clubbing that I don’t quite agree with and find it difficult to reconcile.

Hmm.  Age.  This is where the prejudice comes in I think.  It’s not the end of the world if you’re 30, but please don’t act like my mother.  Oh, and you don’t have to like animals, but you also don’t have to go ape-shit if a duck waddles past where you are sitting!

Excessive Cussing.  You sure you don’t have Tourettes? Dealbreaker.

Disregard for moral values and unethical behaviour?  Dealbreaker.  Gossipmonger and general Conniving manner?  Dealbreaker.

One thing I’ve considered recently.  Previous marriages and children from previous marriages.  I’m sorry, I’m not sure I want to be an instant father.  I don’t think I have that in me.  So I guess other peoples kids are a dealbreaker for now.  I might change my mind on this.  depending on the age of the child I guess.

What are your dealbreakers?  I know that there is quite a lot of them out there….

Eish

I been gone for a bit. I promised a tongue-in-cheek post regarding DealBreakers to someone who isn’t sane all the time. But she’ll have to wait. It’s a work in progress one might say.

But Eish…I was reminded about the versatility of certain South African words the other day. For instance “Lekker”. As in Local is Lekker. But lekker of course is an afrikaan noun for sweets but it doubles as an adjective. More than that it is acceptable for Lekker to used in an English conversation. Like, that chick is lekker stoned hey??

But no other word in the South African Vocabulary comes close to “Eish”. One four-letter word with so many different meanings.

I first met Eish back in 2002. I was young and impressionable boy from the coast who had recently moved inland, to the capital of africa. This is where I met people who used a word I had never heard before. Eish. But Eish man, it took me a long time understand it’s nuances.

There must be a 100 different ways to say it, and each way has a different meaning. I was reminded by a Al Pacino/Johnny Depp movie, “Donnie Brasco”, about a policeman infiltrating the Mafia. Every second line of dialogue was peppered with the words, “Aah Forgetaboudid”. And each time it was said differently and in a different context, and had a different meaning. If you aint Italian American, you won’t get it. Forgetaboutit.

But coming back to Eish. You could say it quickly, or lengthen it out…..like EEEISSSHHH!. That was a particularly omenous way to say it. It means if, if things were bad before, well then you’re totally screwed now.

You could say it on it’s own as part of a sentence, or you could add it in the beginning or the end of the sentence. Adding at the beggining or the end changed the meaning completely:

“Eish, that is one bad mother….”
“That is one bad mother, Eish”

See?

As a young intern, I was often paged and when I called, the voice on the other end would say: “Eish Doctor, the patient is Gasping” On my arrival at the patients bed side, I often found not a gasping patient, but rather a deceased one. This would be followed be the sister saying, “Maybe it was his time, eish wena”

I often thought though, that the patient had been deceased, long before I was paged. I thought this because the patient was cold. Yes. Eish cold.

Haaibo! You may be thinking that I am making fun of a certain culture, but, Wena, You must NEVA think that. It’s just not true. Eish.

But seriously, Eish, on it’s own often became an excuse. Like when I needed to buy laundry machine tokens, and the were out. All I got was a shrug, and the word “Eish, no more”

Thanks to Klipdrift, the word Eish has now reached the entire nation. I hear coastal dwellers using the term more often. Even if it just to emulate the Ad. Met Eish Ja.

So Far So Good

So Far So Good. The car is great. It felt a bit underpowered at but now, I’m getting used to it, and I know where the powerband is. Getting in and out of it is still a bit tricky without the door touching anything else. Coupe’s always have wide doors, and your garage will never be wide enough.

The job is also going better. I’m getting used to the records, getting used to being in my office with poor ventilation, (mental note, get a fan), suckingly slow internet connection (darn students using up all the bandwidth with stupid things like….facebook). I’m slowly cottoning on to the Big Boss and her sarcasm, give me a week and she won’t be able to keep up.

Had to do the public speaking bit today. It’s one of the few things that I don’t enjoy about this job.

But then torturing the students made up for it.

Oh, and I finally found out wear the cafeteria is. After a week of going hungry. And darn, there are some nice looking women here. I think I’m gonna like this place. A lot.

Day 3

Actually got some real work done today. Amazingly. Liaised with other disciplines, bossed some juniors around, made some lists, read some stuff, went home early.

I’m told that the Big Boss doesn’t really worry about who and what time people come and go. In fact the Gargantuan one said so. When I mentioned to someone that I started working there this week, that person’s immediate reaction was “With the Amazon Woman?”. Ok I know you get it, she is big. But it’s cos she’s tall! and Big-Boned. (Could you smell the euphemism or is this bracketed part unnecessary?) What makes it worse is that up until 3 months ago, the only male in upper management, was, well, Elfin sized. And no not like the Elves in Lord of the Rings. More like of the Santa’s Little Helpers variety, only less annoying.

And I knew it would eventually come out. I’ve recently acquired a sports model. The Big Boss has one too, same variety only a much older previous generation model. She got the heads up from my previous boss. Apparently that was the first thing they told her. So she came to me today all jokingly saying that she doesn’t allow her junior consultants to drive better car than she does, following up with “I wouldn’t trade mine for anything”.

Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.