Bee with an itch

3 11 2011

I’m still in a foul mood, though for other reasons than yesterday… or was it the day before that? No, wait, it was on Tuesday (though I wouldn’t put it past this odious state to carry through until the weekend).

Whatever the case may be, it’s Meh-day, so perhaps my disposition is merely keeping pace.

Before I came to work this morning, I noticed that a friend of mine (a witty/ funny/ sarcastic, i.e. swell, guy) tweeted the following:

“So November 3rd is both Housewife Day and International Sandwich Day. Coincidence? I think n– *is stabbed by the closest woman*”

This immediately made me think of the following picture:

To keep the proverbial good times rolling (sarcastic face), I’ve decided to share my mood with you visually. Hope you enjoy the pictures below and have an amazing splendid good moderately okay bearable Meh-day.

[PS: My older sister, Libby, says that we must be having a psychic connection or something this week, since my mood mirrors hers. Perhaps it is genetic!]

[PPS: Betty Bright brought me a budvase brimming with lavender this morning. So far it hasn’t calmed me, though I am in a state of tranquil, composed antagonism.]


The three graces [call me Joy – I dare you]

19 08 2011

This morning, while looking for photos to use in my next blog post (which I may post today, thus making two posts in one day *astonished face*), I came upon this picture and immediately wanted to caption it ‘The three graces’:

The Three Graces: Addy (youngest, in yellow), Liz (yours truly) & Libby (oldest, in black) on my wedding day

 Being interested in mythology as I am (and in this instance, we’re dealing with the Greeks/ Romans), I remembered that the Graces were three goddesses that epitomized joy, charm and beauty. While both my sisters have lots of charm and beauty, and can probably spread joy wherever they go – though whether they feel joyful at times is questionable, I think it’s genetic – I’m not exactly sure where I’d fit in.

This being the case, I decided to go use good old Google to divine which goddess/ sister was which.

It turns out that these three, from youngest to oldest, were Aglaia/ Aglaea (“Splendor” or “Radiance”, “the one who harvests”); Euphrosyne (“Mirth” or “Joy”, literally “the one who brings joy”); and Thalia (“Good Cheer” or “Flowering”, “the one who blossoms”).

And yes, incidentally, we are standing from youngest to oldest in the photo above.

If you look at the meanings further, you’ll discover that Aglaia – the youngest – was named thus for her beauty and goodness. I think that suits my younger sister.

Thalia – the oldest – was named for her continuous/ everlasting freshness… which might be suited to my older sister Libby. She may be tired at times, but she rarely allows herself to be defeated, and after a gym session she’s all guns blazing and raring to go. Of course, the Graces were also goddesses of “cheerful amusement”, which refers to “the characteristics of loveliness”, and that definitely suits Libby. “Freshness”, after all, can also refer to beauty, and both my sisters are lovely.

Although, after reading the PERCY JACKSON books and encountering their depiction of Thalia (stubborn, a go-getter, very no-nonsense), I think that suits my older sister far better!! 😉

And then there’s the middle sister, Euphrosyne. The one who brings joy. The one who’s supposed to be cheerful. Me. *exasperated look* Sure, if you like your mirth with a shot of sarcasm or silly humour (which I suppose could be seen as merriment).

That said, I think that maybe there could be a small hint of truth in that. I like making people happy/ joyful by doing special things for them, and I put in a lot of effort. I’ve become semi-‘famous’ for the hugs I give… which, maybe, isn’t so bad, though it is peculiar to be known for something like that. I just think that out of all things you could attribute to someone, ‘joy’ most likely wouldn’t be mentioned when it comes to me.

But hey, I could be wrong – if I’m able to put a smile on someone’s face, to lighten their load, to provide assistance/ listen/ help out where I can, and to bake a chocolate cake/ cookies/ cheesecake that is eagerly devoured (*nom nom nom*), then I’m definitely spreading some joy.

Just don’t bother me tomorrow morning – I could really use some sleep, and if you disturb me, I might not be all sparkly rainbows and sunshine… Or I’ll find a way to mirth you to death. Whatever that means.

Sleep – I need it

28 07 2011

Think you’ve been having a rough few days?

I started cooking, cleaning & entertaining people once I arrived home from work last Friday (this lasted until Sunday evening). Monday and Tuesday I had all-day training, after which I had to sit in traffic and check my work e-mails. And yesterday, I not only had a pretty full and productive day, but I also spent an hour and a half working when I got home…

…only to have the meeting/ briefing session for the task I had completed moved to a different time-slot… an hour and a half later(!!)

It’s not that I’m particularly lacking in the sleep department. Since Sunday evening, I’ve been getting into bed between 10 & 11 PM, then getting up at 6/ 7 AM. We’re talking about at least 7 to 8 hours of sleep here. Sure, I wake up a few times or decide to give up on sleep an hour before I actually have to get up, yet in general, I’ve been getting a little bit more sleep than usual.

And, yes, I’m craving more.

My strange genetics are probably screwing me over right now. Usually I’d like to blame what’s going on with me on my genes, though I seriously doubt my sleeping habits have much to do with the twisting, looping string that is my genetic coding. Ditto on the extreme headaches I’ve come to live with, since none of my family members suffer from daily headaches. A headache or migraine now and again, sure, but Every. Single. Day. (for 8 years running)?! Not likely.

Then of course there’s my messed up reproductive system, which also cannot be blamed on genetics as far as I am aware of, since my mother/ aunts/ cousins don’t suffer the same fate I do (nor did any grandmothers or great-grandmothers). I must admit, however, that it is very strange and even coincidental that all three my mother’s daughters have problems when it comes to their female bits. I’ve had traces of endometriosis removed and my ovaries have polycystic tendencies (these are but two of the problems that I am aware of); my older sister has had cysts removed twice; and my younger sister has too much testosterone and some such stuff.

I think somebody put me on my Sleep Cycle/ Mode. The clock isn’t ticking by the minutes I have left to be fertile and have children, but is rather being muffled by the metaphorical snores of my sleep-needing body.

And because of this, I feel so incredibly tired, ill and over just about everything that I would like nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for as long as I possibly can.

This just proves to me that I should have been a cat.

Somebody find me a sunspot and a comfy pillow, stat!! ‘coz I’m getting tired of constantly feeling tired… 😦

Today is really feeling like Meh-day, all right…

Picture Perfect

21 07 2011

I am not photogenic.

Or photographic… photographically inclined… not friends with the camera due to the manner in which it captures my physical appearance… how am I supposed to phrase it? *ponder*

I’m not saying that I’m ugly (though one would always like to be prettier). I don’t cause camera lenses to crack and accordingly blur or even distort photos that I’m on (though I’m not ruling out the possibility that this can happen outside of books, short stories and sci-fi films)… It’s just that the camera doesn’t seem to ‘love’ me.

Trust me, the feeling is mutual.

Okay, I don’t hate the camera. That’s not what I’m trying to say while busy being circumlocutory (yes, that’s a word – it pretty much means that I’m being verbose, i.e. rambling, skirting the issue).  It’s more a case of coincidental snapping. It’s as if the camera just knows in some weird, out-of-this-world manner that it has to snap away at specific moments in order to capture me (and a part of my soul…?!) when I’m pulling my face.

No foolies.

Think this can't happen? Think again... *dum dum duuuuuum* (dramatic reverb!)

[And, unfortunately, I cannot blame it on my genes. Meh.]

Note that this is not, of course, intentional on my part. It’s not like I derive any joy from pulling faces while having a camera pointed at me… unless, of course, the intention is to be silly and playful… *No I’m not being dramatic!!!*

In any case, let’s take an example:

Last night our wedding photographer came around to our apartment to bring us our photographs. The photos are stunning and he has an amazing eye for a shot, but of course, no photo album – and most certainly not when it comes to something as big, important and joyous as your very own wedding – would be complete without me making an arse of myself. I’ve never seen anyone who pulls their mouth as much as me: pouting, scowling, frowning, looking shocked/ in awe… and not because the photographer asked me to. It’s probably, unfortunately and unintentionally, the way I roll.

At least the photos will be memorable. Nothing like laughter (even when it’s at my own expense) to bring people together. So what if I’m not picture perfect? In their own way, the perfectness of the pictures lies in the fact that I’m an unwitting comedian! 😉

 Have a good Meh-day everyone!!!

[Aside: we’ll be receiving the disc with all of our photos tonight, so perhaps I’ll put up a few tonight or over the weekend to have you share in the laughter…]

Thanks, kitteh, I appreciate you laughing at me...

Call me Blinky

27 06 2011

It’s always interesting to find out what people who went to school with you, people who you haven’t seen or heard from in years, remember about you. Sure, sometimes it’s not flattering, and it can be quite unexpected, yet one cannot help but wonder what good, bad, funny or weird things might pop out of their mouths.

I had a chance to experience it this weekend.

And of course, I wasn’t very happy. You could go as far as to say that I was shocked.

My younger sister and her boyfriend went to an engagement party on Saturday, and it turned out that the male half of the engaged pair went to school with me. Not only were we in the same grade, but we had two classes (that I can remember, that is) together. While speaking to my sister on the phone, she let me know that someone else who went to school with me (we had History together) was there and wanted to say ‘hullo’. Naturally, I obliged, and was thrilled to hear how excited the other person was to speak with me.

This is the point where remembrances kicked in – the point where some of my characteristics/ features came into play that the person remembered clearly. The first question was whether or not my hair was still as long as it used to be. Answer: no, I had it cut, but it’s already grown again and comes down to the middle of my back. I knew I was ‘well known’ for my long hair, and everybody seemed to love it and told me not to cut it, so I suppose I was expecting that comment.

It was the next one that threw me.

The question?

“Do you still blink your eyes as much as you used to?” (which that person thought was a lot).

Just thinking about it makes me want to blink until my eyes fall out or my lashes stick together.

I mean… really? Do I blink that much??!

I know that I tend to blink a lot when someone points a camera in my face and takes a video of me – when I am aware that someone is watching and recording me. That’s been evident from a few video clips I’ve watched that my Significant Other took while we were on honeymoon. I also blink more than usual when my eyes hurt/ are tired. But all the time? So much so that someone who hasn’t seen me since the end of 2005 thought it prudent to mention? [Could it be genetic…?]

*hides face feeling very aware of self*

Now I can’t stop blinking (blame my Obsessive-Compulsive side)… it’s like this little splinter niggling my brain, and I cannot seem to get rid of it…

Oh, Life, how cruel, that I am cursed with such a thing!!

So when you see me, regardless of how much I might be blinking or not, feel free to call me Blinky, because I’ll have to live with (and accept) the fact for the rest of my life…

…unless I keep my eyes closed.

I'll have to take some lessons from Smudgy

[Aside: Instead of Binky, like in Garfield, I’ll be Blinky the Clown – because it feels like I’m making a spectacle of myself…]

What a wonderful weekend… (sarcasm intended)

20 06 2011

I was busy typing a lengthy blog post this morning, and I was nearing the end of it when I just thought ‘screw it, nobody wants to read about me complaining… in detail…’

So, here’s a summary of my long weekend:

Thursday – public holiday

Friday – in bed with a migraine, unable to get up until 5:30PM (which was when I took a tepid bath, and immediately got back into bed again)… which means I couldn’t go to the Department of Home Affairs to apply for a new ID. Oh, and did I mention we didn’t have any warm water?!

Saturday – stay in bed late, get up to buy warm clothes for work, see my older sister, have a quiet BBQ with my Significant Other (aka my Husband), and nearly kill myself with the big BBQ fork or whatever you call it. Head pounding. No warm water.

Sunday – prepare Father’s Day lunch, nearly fall asleep (or desperately wanted to, at least) on the way to the parentals-in-law, and only leave there late that evening. Head was killing me… though I’m not sure whether it was literally or figuratively! Still no warm water. Longing for a hot bath.

Or, in my case, sick long weekend. Joy.

My head isn’t really feeling better, although the usual daily pain I experience (which, at times, can be really bad) is a welcome reprieve from what I had to suffer through on Friday. My genetic code is pretty messed up… yet I suppose I cannot blame my genes; it’s not like anyone in my family suffers from severe (daily!!!) headaches like I do… So somehow, somewhere, my genes got spliced or wired incorrectly or something to that extent. Unfortunately I cannot return myself to the manufacturer to be fixed 😉

Guess I’ll just have to fork over the money, go for the tests with the neurologist, and if that doesn’t work, go in for a brain scan.

What lovely prospects lie ahead…

…at least our geyser has been fixed this morning, even if temporarily (this after they ‘fixed’ the problem last Wednesday, haha) – so once I get to the apartment after work, I am having a loooong bath 🙂

Hang in there

10 06 2011

It’s Friday again already – can you believe it?!

I started working at OUP again last Wednesday (so wonderful to receive a warm welcome!), and I have been both very happy and extremely busy this last week and a half. What with submissions, finishing books, sitting for hours checking if everything is where it should be (and printed correctly, because if it isn’t, it can be a bit of a nightmare… or day-mare… or any other horse you can saddle up; as long as you don’t get on your high horse), the hours feel both long and short simultaneously.

I love reading, but reading through hundreds of pages (in small print) to check that there are no spelling mistakes – amongst other things – is enough to make me not want to see books for the rest of the evening…

…not that I ‘give in’, of course – I just go on reading. After all, my evening reading is for enjoyment, and I need something to take my mind off the new curriculum.

That said, all of us here at work are hanging in there, despite the fact that everyone is tired, overworked, lacking in the sleep department and just want everything to be over already. But our company takes good care of us. On Tuesday our publishing manager arranged that we all had pizza for lunch. On Wednesday we had mini-muffins at 4:30PM, and yesterday afternoon we had mini frosted doughnuts. What a thoughtful way to keep our energy levels up…

…that said, however, it might just be a clever ruse to keep us all in the office and working through lunch time!! 😉

So whatever important things you need to do, stressful things that might be on your plate, or just a general overwhelming feeling that’s affecting your life: just hang in there!!

[And know that I can sympathize with you. I have an incredible headache which is making me feel far-less-than-incredible, and I’m contributing it to work, not sleeping well, some or other inexplicable cause (since neither my doctor or gynaecologist can tell me what’s wrong)… and my genes. Of course. Somewhere there’s a coding error in here.]