Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts

Sunday, December 13, 2015

When Even the Gypsies Settle

gypsy
ˈdʒɪpsi/
noun
  1. 1.
    a member of a travelling people with dark skin and hair, traditionally living by itinerant trade and fortune telling. Gypsies speak a language (Romany) that is related to Hindi and are believed to have originated in South Asia.
    synonyms:RomanyRomchalchaigitanogitanatzigane, Zingaro, Zigeuner,
    zingana, didicoiMore
  2. 2.
    informal
    a nomadic or free-spirited person.
    "why should she choose to wander the world with a penniless gypsy like me?"
    synonyms:RomanyRomchalchaigitanogitanatzigane, Zingaro, Zigeuner,
    zingana, didicoiMore

So why did I spend so much time in Port Stephens??? 
- you ask.


































That's why!

Monday, January 20, 2014

100 days of happiness




happiness
ˈhapɪnɪs/
noun

  1. 1.
    the state of being happy.
    "she struggled to find happiness in her life"
    synonyms:contentmentpleasure, contentedness, satisfaction, cheerfulness,cheeriness,
    merriment, merriness, gaietyjoy, joyfulness, joyousness,joviality, jollity,
    jolliness, glee, blitheness, carefreeness, gladness,delight, good spirits,
    high spirits, light-heartedness, good cheer, well-beingenjoymentfelicity;
    exuberanceexhilarationelationecstasydeliriumjubilationrapture,bliss
    blissfulness, euphoriabeatitude, transports of delight; 
    heaven,paradise, seventh heaven, cloud nine; 
    humorousdelectation;
    "her eyes shone with happiness"

So, recently I've had several friends invite me to take part in the 100 days of happiness challenge (http://100happydays.com/) that's right- 100 whole days, how hard can that be? I mean if you're licking and living and being awesome surely you're always happy?

The catch is that you have to do 100 days in a row and not skip ANY!

I started on Friday and things were going great- I made two batches of home made chilli sauce before I took the bear out to the local weekly street party (jump up) and danced and looked at BBQd meat (its tough pretending to be a vegetarianist) and mingled with strange strangers...



On Saturday life greeted me with a hangover but I took it as an opportunity to take a day off my boat work (which i made up for with sweet corn fritters for breaky) and go for a flipping long kayak to investigate the neighboring bays and collect shells and lick unsuspecting locals and then invite people over for a pizza night...

 






And then Day 3 almost got the better of me...  I woke up with food poisoning and, when I finally felt safe to leave the bathroom, I spent the whole day grinding, sanding and aciding rust off our lovely steel boat- it was hard to smile... And it took so long I almost gave up on the idea of a kayak ashore to run on the beach... but even though the sun had set and there was the whole "never go to the beach after dark" safety thing, it redeemed my day and led me to pop in at a neighboring boat to borrow an egg (and somehow the egg survived the paddle) to salvage our black (no I'm not racist) bananas and transform them into banana bread [that I burned]... 


Only 3 days in and I nearly failed... 97 days of happiness lie ahead - and Im going to make them good!!! I reckon you should do it too... Life's too short to avoid happiness!

Coke cola use to use the phrase "open happiness" - but I've met too many people who have opened too much if their happiness and unfortunately canned happiness is not the real thing, it just makes you fat!!

2014s obviously going to be the best year ever - make sure you make it a happy one!

Why not lick an unsuspecting stranger today??

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Murdering a Gypsy

A little part of myself died earlier today. And not just the skin cells I lost in the shower. No, it goes way deeper than that!

As I tidied the garage this morning (or mostly just moved a lot of stuff around to find other stuff) I found little trinkets from around the world: beer labels from the ‘stans, a rock from the Great Wall, Rubies (that may just be dirt really) from mining in Cambodia, a hat from Greece, t-shirts from Burma and Thailand and Australia, napkins from Vietnam, … the list goes on… and on… and on some more.  Now you might be thinking (as my housemates do) that I own a lot of junk, and I do, but each piece of junk bought back a billion memories. And that is actually quite a lot of memories.


Somewhere in Turkmenistan...
Somewhere on the great wall of china...
a 12m drop into the ground with nothing but dirt holes to climb with somewhere in Cambodia...

The hat was purchased in Greece, the cow was not
I also found many other hats in the garage... this was the better of the lot
I do regret not buying one of these in Burma... (the necklaces, not the woman)

I’ve been living in Cape Town for 2 months today and it’s really starting to freak me out! It’s been more than a month since I’ve licked anything. I’ve had a shower almost every day. I’ve been in the same country for almost 6 months… I fear I might have murdered my gypsy!

I love my job (I get to swing through trees and meet psychopaths and make people smile – who wouldn’t love that?), and love my housemates, and my neighbours, and flipping love Cape Town, and I’ve even come to love my bicycle… but… I’m feeling so guilty about stifling my wanderlust and suffocating the gypsy inside…

The housemates (and family) somewhere in Cape Town...
It’s a horrendous place be in, being torn between two epic lives. It’s almost like having Tom Cruise and Rowan Atkinson both wanting to marry you. I want both and I want both now (life scenarios, not afore mentioned ‘men’)… But with a real job comes real responsibilities. And only 15 days of leave. And with gypsism comes freedom, adventure, breathtaking phenomena’s and not much else.

I am pretty sure this would be an illegal pet in South Africa

Even beautiful beaches have their flaws

I do love that South Africa has real toilets!

Unable to decide between them, I’m living in Limbo. In the lounge. Trying my best not to acquire any more belongings. Changing my mind at least 17 times a day. One minute I decide to go and cycle around Europe, the next I decide to push for regional manager, and then I think I might go climb Everest, but Cape Town too is full of beautiful mountains.  There’s South America and Antarctica or Canada or Japan or starting a company or … ahhhhhhhhhhhh… it’s all so frustrating these first world problems.

AHHHHHHHHHH!
So do I hibernate/ murder/ retire the gypsy or bring her back to life?  

One thing’s for sure though; no matter what I do (and yes, I am open to all suggestions, thoughts, comments, and slaps across the face), life is freaking short – and I want to make it count. I hope you’re doing the same!

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

HELP!!!!




I had a moment of weakness this week. Trust me, it doesn’t happen very often (which is why I can fix tyres with nothing but grass,  petrol and a match; and how I know my limitations when carrying a month’s worth of supply shopping home on a bicycle; and why I buy cheap-ass single ply toilet paper), but every now and then I have to swallow my pride and ask for help.

Yes, it begun as a Sunday just like any other Sunday (or at least the last seven of them). I’d woken up far too early for my liking, had a pretend-to-be-nutritious fake yoghurt (pronounced “yow-gurt” for those of you who continue to pronounce it incorrectly), jumped in the shower, and sped off to work. I was early too; so I seized the moment and some super glue and I stuck my badly abused running shoes back together. I sipped a delicious cup of coffeeish liquid as I forced the balls of my feet into the ground while the glue dried.

And then the work day began and so did my torment. As soon as I moved I discovered my folly. My left shoe had allegedly been ripped right through, so as I had filled the gap with super glue (and quite a lot of it), it had gushed in, seeped through my sock and coated the ball of my foot. And it was good superglue.

I spent the day trying desperately to free my foot - I tried swinging through the trees, I tried force, I tried to steam a kettle under it to get it free, I tried to free it with a pen. I tried to free it with a ruler and then work got too busy so I stopped trying to free it and hoped that with enough running back and forth my foot would naturally free itself.

It didn’t.

When I finally made it home for work I realized it was time to take the plunge and ask for help. So I consulted the world’s super power of wisdom – Facebook – and got some really great suggestions because most of my friends are ridiculously wise:

Luke: Soak it in warm water?

Mark:  go to hospital - they cut it off!

Kim: Paint thinner

Langa: The universe is trying to tell you something

Charl: Try team or nail polish remover

Taneal: Soak it in warm water with lots of sunlight washing up liquid!

Matthias: Yip, nail polish remover works or anything with an acetone base. Warm soapy water also does it. In sticky situations you can also take a blade and VERY gently cut between the skin and the glue VERY slowly.

Wendy: You wear it till the soles get worn out. Could take years.

Michael: Only one thing to do, amputate the foot.

Rick: Start to like wearing shoes.

David: Have you ever seen the movie Saw?

Neale: I reckon you should go on a trip as far as you can until the shoe falls off, or wears out. Pretty good excuse for a journey...

And while some of the suggestions really made sense (especially the last one) I had far too many options to consider.

And then my lovely housemate, Daisy, came in and after I tried to talk him out of it for his own good (my shoes aren’t quite as fragrant as I would like them to be) he made my push my pride aside and sit on the floor. With one big tug he ripped my shoe free. Talk about a knight in shining armour (and yes girls he is single if you’re interested).

I'm not kidding... he really is still single.
 
I then followed his example and ripped my sock free. And while it was good to be surrounded by so much freeness; a chunk of my foot remained glued to the chunck of my sock that was still glued to the inside of my shoe.




The moral of the story is that you should sometimes buy cheaper superglue and also that we all need help sometimes. And sometimes it hurts. But we need it. And as much as I would have loved to use the stuckness as an excuse for another trip, I think I definitely prefer to be a barefoot gypsy.