Tuesday, March 29, 2011

I suck at this!

I have not yet mastered adult reasoning.
In fact, I still barter with myself on a regular basis, e.g. do something mature…in exchange for spending the entire afternoon at work online shopping and buying pajama-jeans in three different color. It’s like my brain is this weird marketplace where scaly Portuguese men try to sell me junk to clutter up my home in exchange for coolie labor (much like the market in Greenmarket Square. I should totally go there this weekend. I haven’t bought a giant inflatable mallet in ages.)

For example, I cleaned the bathroom on Sunday. I even bought cleaning supplies! (SuperDave made me throw out my cleaning supplies when he saw how much mould was growing on the bottle of mould-remover). Don’t get me wrong: I love buying cleaning supplies. Lemony-scented kitchen wipes. Bathroom sprays. Oven cleaner. Those cans of dust spray that seem to do absolutely nothing to the furniture but smell really good in a toxicky kinda way…ah bliss. I could shop in that aisle for hours. I just don’t enjoy using them.

That being said, I scrubbed the tub, sink, faucets and toilet until it sparkled. For three seconds. The cat, who regularly pees on his own feet, likes to play in the bathroom right now. But even as I sat on the couch, thinking, I need to clean the tub again, my messed-up brain was telling me: “No, Essie. You washed the tub 3 days ago. You shouldn’t have to do it again today.” Then it got cocky: “You shouldn’t have to wash the tub EVER AGAIN.”

Every day when I pass that bathroom and think, I need to start being a motherf*cking adult and clean that thing, my brain tells me not to. After all, I did pay rent this month.

Does anyone else DO this? Here’s my list of subconscious payoffs:

ADULT ACT: Ate coucous for lunch
PAYOFF: Good job! You now may eat chicken waffles deep-fried in bacon grease covered in mayonnaise and blue cheese for dinner.

ADULT ACT: Completed assignment on time at work
PAYOFF: Good job! Now you can safely spend the next 7 ½ hours of the workday reading back posts of The Oatmeal and still feel productive.

ADULT ACT: Fed the cat
PAYOFF: Wow. That was hard. Don’t bother clean the litter tray. The poop will turn into dust eventually, thus becoming its own cat sand. It’s economical, really.

ADULT ACT: Paid the bills
PAYOFF: Let’s go gambling! You might get your rent money back!

ADULT ACT: Went to work
PAYOFF: Go to Monkeyland!

ADULT ACT: Bought life insurance
PAYOFF: Buy a ferret!

ADULT ACT: Invest money in shares
PAYOFF: Invest money in comic books!

Happy Birthday, Ouma!

My grandmother is turning 86 today! My grandma is awesome for a number of reasons.

1) She still lives by herself in a little house, which is amazing considering that she is legally blind and still fearlessly crosses the road all by herself. When pressed about when she'll move out of the little house into some sort of assisted care facility, she always says, "When I'm dead, you can take my corpse anywhere you want to."

2) She had six kids.

3) When I was small, she hit me over the head with a rolled up magazine for backtalking to my mother and told me I was a "bloody bitch". I was instantly in awe of her because I didn't know that old people swore.

4) For saying, "You are too thin. Get fat like your cousin", and then pointing at my cousin.

5) For telling the people on Bold & The Beautiful who to have sex with because she didn't want the actors she liked hooking up with "the mean ones".

6) For saying, "Halleleujah" when I told her I was getting divorced.

7) For letting all of us stay at her house whenever we're in the area and then having sandwiches ready when we get there.

8) Because she believed in letting kids sort out their own problems. In fact, she would let her boys move the beds out of the bedroom so that they can beat each other up rather than keep her awake with their arguing.

9) For pulling the BEST practical jokes, baking the best cookies and painstakingly cooking vats of apricot jam every year as long as I can remember. And back when her eyesight was good, she used to knit me these woolen socks to sleep in that I first hated getting for Christmas and then adored and then missed more than I ever thought I would.

10) For introducing herself to our boyfriends: "What's your name? Nevermind, I won't remember. These girls have so many of you young guys coming and going..."

With my aunt, uncle & cousins having a dignified cup of coffee

I love you, Ouma, and hope you have a great day :)

Friday, March 25, 2011

You may or may not be birdbrained...

Because I have terrible sense of direction, I always prepare whenever I have to drive somewhere. This week, Dave and I are going to some adreline-weekend-4x4 event that requires you to drive off-road and hike places. (I’ll be spending the day in the beer tent. Thank you for asking.)
I printed a map at work and gave him the directions. He glanced it at vaguely. “Thanks.”

“Keep it.”



“I know exactly where it is.”

“Have you been there before?”

“No, but I’ve already committed the map to memory.”

“You didn’t even look at it!”

“Don’t need to.”

(Pause) “Did the government implant a chip in your brain when you were in the military?”


“Are you sure you don’t remember a time when you maybe woke up in a lab with bandages wrapped around your head and no recollection of where you’ve been the day before?”


“OK, but just THINK about it…”

NOTE: I’m always messing crumbs around the house and yet when I get home they are GONE. The only logical explanation is that SuperDave is in fact part homing-pigeon, part-man.

NOTE: Or maybe someone sweeps.

NOTE: Paranoia isn’t so bad. At least I’m PRETTY sure I have all of my own brain. Of course, if someone erased your memory, you wouldn’t remember. So we have every REASON to be paranoid.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Taking a hike

I found pictures of the hike me and Dave took in December. It wasn't much fun because I have the outdoor skills of Paris Hilton. And the fitness of her Chihuahua. Plus it rained so our idea of having a picnic by the waterfalls turned into...taking our lunch for a cold, wet walk.

"Don't touch the brown dog"

 Dave totally touched the brown dog.
The rainbow made it worth it.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Does it say Animal Shelter on my door or what?

The gay Pakistani gentlemen that lives in my complex brought dropped off a little present. His name is Panthera, and he is a three-month kitten. Apparently the rightful owners were neglectful, so he decided to give him to us. We’ve got a reputation for stealing other people’s pets because the people below us has a cat that drinks out of our toilet from time to time and also because SuperDave rescued an Alsatian and kept it in the flat while he waited for Animal Rescue. He also subsequently rescued the Alsatian after it fell in the pool in its excitement to get to the flat…At first I was nervous because you can't just allow waves of homosexual Eastern men bringing you animals and we aren't technically allowed to have pets but he is very sweet and well-behaved.

I bought him a little ball yesterday that goes “Glinga-glinga” when he swats it. He loves the sound and was absolutely adorable when started chasing it at about 5 pm when I got home.

Of course, at 3 am when all you can hear is Glingaglingaglingaglingaglingaglingaglingaglinga…the cute factor is reduced.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

I'm not sure exactly what I do but it's not good

My professional goal is to figure out exactly what I do. I know my company manufactures Abcryl, ABS and other plastics. But I'm not exactly sure what that is. So I spent a day googling.