Happy New Year?

It’s 6.30 am. I’m on a flight to Durban three days before the New Year opens its eyes and wakes up from its little nap. While it was sleeping, the world was in turmoil and there are buckets full of souls counting on 2010 to blow some smoke up their no frills attached due to economic crisis, skirts. I just hope it’s well rested because it’s got some serious expectations to deal with. People are walking around all optimistic. I think we have a ways to go.

I snapped at an airport security guard this morning because she wouldn’t hold my food while I looked for my boarding pass. It all happened so fast, but the minute I stepped away from the scene of the crime I realized what I’d done. I should have had the pass with me already. I also should have remembered that her job sucks and that she is holding onto her last slice of dignity like she was the fat kid at camp trying to avoid the swimming pool. Naturally, my head was a fuzz of embarrassment and if my ears had been built differently, they would have flopped right down like my puppy’s’ when she’s done something wrong.

Big deal, right? We all have our little blow ups. The problem is, I’ve been walking around down there on the ground, talking the talk of a little Yoda. About how we should all become farmers because “what everyone does with their days is ridiculous and materialistic.” But, at about 6.15 am this morning I realized just who it was that I’d been disrespecting with my vomit of system slandering beliefs.

The truth is, the system is in place and security guards and librarians are holed up and living it and struggling to survive in it. So, I’ve decided to try and not blow up the system. Sure we need some revolutionary change, but will that happened by my sullied, grumbling sword? Who knows? What I do know is that I’m sorry. I did not mean to take apart peoples lives. I was really just enjoying a moment of I told you so’s and got carried away with the idealistic notion of a world with no banks.

So 2010, here’s to you. May someone write a song about you with lyrics like; “Those were the days my friend, we thought they’d never end”. And if the rest of the world demands some smoke up its ass, I will gladly help you light one up and puff away for the sake of my human team.

Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum

I’ve got this card thing going that fits perfectly into the gaping wound that Hallmark has left in the market. Hopefully my budding business will clog it up good and proper

I think I get it

They move through the world
abruptly disturbed
Pushing and stone cold
They put the act well on
So well in disguise
That I found my heart stoned
Stolen moments I wondered,
could not understand and
Now they stand on a platform,
exposed and so real
The platform they’ve chosen
I see it now
Is an enemy armed
So strong with their fear
consuming all sense
and stopping it up
And for them I feel sorry
If they were just accepted
scene as themselves
Then at least they could rest up
Move past with ease
Not so uncomfortable
and well loved
Maybe then

The Wimbeldon security guard program

The weather was cold and grey, which went perfectly with the surreally authentic security guard uniform I was wearing. Reeking of polyester, I stepped out of the change room, ready for my very first shift. It was strange, I felt weird and my shoes were a size too small for me. Not a good thing when you’re planning on walking around and around and around and around Wimbledon tennis grounds. The first five minutes were ok. I was mildly amused by the fact that I was somewhere I had seen on TV. I’m not a tennis fan though and my mild amusement soon melted into the immaculately kept grounds. Within fifteen minutes, I’d made my way around the tennis courts for the fifth time. I had another 7 and ¾ hours of the day left and three months of work ahead of me. Just how many times would I have to walk around this place? My brain quickly did a side step and persuaded my body to dash into the change rooms. I chucked my plastic uniform to the wind and made for the nearest bus stop. Sometimes I daydream about what happened after I left। Like a “disguarded” uniform, that sparked a revolution amongst security guards worldwide. And an urban legend of the girl who vanished fifteen minutes into her shift, told to scare the hell out of rookie guards. Mostly I just smile away the guilt and tell myself, you were never meant to guard that well kept grass.

Imaginary friends

I have to say this out loud; I didn’t have an imaginary friend growing up. A strange confession, I know. I mean most people see a little bit of crazy in hanging out with a pet gorilla that lives under your bed. And to be honest, they’re probably onto something. The thing is, I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve missed out on some creative right of passage. They say kids that invent their best friends are born artists and I’d have to agree with them. A mind that can conjure up characters to play with, really is over above the call of duty. And while I get that we all need to grow up, there’s a daydream of delight in the uninhibited creativity of kids. So, this is my imaginary friend journey. I guess it’s my way of joining in on something that I seem to have skipped. Here’s hoping you find a city big enough to fill with everything you dream up.






They sat in trees, like snow, and played hide-and-seek in the sky. Together they watched the world go by with bubble gum eyes and often discussed how yeti, being blue, was always hardest to find.