cheese in a can. really? in a can?

ok so i have been journalling, reflecting and observing a lot these past 7 days. so i am going to try give you my interpretation of my first week here in the states in 200 words or less {or just in bullet point format cause i don't feel like counting these words}

here we go…hope this makes sense...

teary-but-excited-for-new-adventure goodbyes
18 hour flight.
4 movies.
stiff legs.
3 hour lay over.
changing clothes.
being surprised and then confused by a self-flushing toilet. what the hell?
black people not speaking an african language.
starbucks.
2 hour flight to Springfield.
spilling coke. everywhere.
awesome fellow passenger {don't know his name}
2 hour convo about life and everything else.
tired.
happy hellos.
tired.
nausea.
trying to be a champion…but failing.
car sickness.
3 hours of awesome sleep, feeling human again.
homemade lasagna.
awesome catch up.
walmart.
wendys.
tornados.
target.
cheese in a can {really? in a can?}
erin climbing into my bed with ice cold feet.
awesome chats with a 7 year old.
"best buy" where a kindle is R900. no freaking way.
continuously multiplying by 7.
continuously thinking ahead 7 hours.
journalling.
totally blown away by generosity and hospitality.
feeling completely disconnected and far from home.
red robin hamburgers that taste just like steers burgers.
bottomless lemonade in a 1 litre cup. really? a 1 litre cup? no freaking way.
barbecuing.
laughing about sick random medical things and party hats.
laughing at my car sickness.
carharts.
skyping with family.
old navy.
toms.
sales guy saying the south african accent is sexy {after mistaking us for british people. nice comeback dude}
seeing black people for the first time in 4 days. crying with joy inside.
sample painting the media room.
barnes & noble.
rob bell's "love wins" and starbucks.
jay walking.
chick-fil-a.
deciding on no more fast food.
chicken noodle soup in a bread bowl {it's like bunny chow but with soup}
skyping with my awesome christy-friend for her birthday.
being completely confused by a water dispenser.
gin and tonic.
burlesque.
cancer centre.
handbag heaven.
nine west black heels for R250. no freaking way.
lindt chocolate.
PJ pants.
long convos about boys and man-boobs.
hamburgers and champagne.
making big decisions.
emails from home.
sermons from the ebc website.
missing the vibrancy and diversity of jhb, but not homesick.
thinking about next steps.
coffee and blogging with the sound of the rain.

week one = too freaking awesome.

that's all :)
x

joy in unexpected places

while i really am a control freak, i love spontaneity {i think because it makes me realise that not everything should be planned}. my whole day yesterday was spontaneous.

i'm feeling super fragile about a lot of things right now, my state of equilibrium has been rattled in many ways {which is a good lesson that i am still processing and will blog about soon}. but for now i really want to honour the sacredness and supportiveness of friends. i don't know if they will ever really know how much i value and appreciate them...how much sushi, being outside in the sun and chocolate macademia lattes really mean to me.

so, since you do RSS my blog {and yes, i am slowly figuring out these techie things} you will know who you are.
x

this is your (my) life

this is my new adopted manifesto. love it love it love it!

i love the whole holstee ethos: kickass products, sustainably made, with a social impact. check out what they do here.

and then he pushed her down the stairs

i didn't sleep last night. i was witness to a "domestic disturbance". an apt name -- it was the most disturbing thing i have seen. a couple in the block opposite me must have been fighting for a while as it had reached a dangerous peak. there was screaming and shouting and then the door opened and he kicked her out the door. she was in a bad way. she tried to get back inside, but he had locked the door. he came back out again.

and then he pushed her down the stairs.

you always wonder if these things are real. but what is even more real is that no one came out. curtains shifted uncomfortably. lights went on and off quickly. but no one came out. we followed protocol. called security. the police came. paramedics came. he left the premises in handcuffs and she in the ambulance, conscious and on oxygen.

i knew that on my own i could do nothing. but what if 10, 20, 30 of us stepped out and said "stop!". domestic violence is everyone's problem.

we are so quick to get involved in other people's business when it comes to celebrities, tabloids, causes for haiti and flood victims. we rah-rah against toll fee petitions, animal abuse and injustice in our government but step back in apathy when a husband beats his wife? because it's not our problem.

come on.

we know better than that.

geography of memories

i haven't traveled extensively, but of all the places i have been, this is my favourite in the world. blouberg beach. i was in cape town this past weekend and because i won't be back there for a long while, my awesome brother took me to big bay for the afternoon. every sight was a perfect picture. the light hitting off the water. the kite surfers ramping over the waves. the sea shells scattered over and embedded into the wet sand. table mountain majestic and faded green blue grey in the distance. it was pure bliss. it made my soul happy. a memory i will always have, not matter how far away i am from home.
x

a poem about love

i totally forgot that i wrote this, being fluey {blah} and off work i was looking through some old files on my mac and came across this again, from around April last year. i now have a blog that i can post this to -- so like it, don't like it. either way it's cool.

this is not a love poem, it's a poem about Love...

i love photos of people
whether smiling or not
i love sampling milk chocolate
melted, straight from the pot
i love laughter from tears and the same in reverse
how all people have stories
i love my fancy guess purse :)
i love dancing to music down my passage hall
ridiculous laughing for no reason at all
i love challenging books, movies and preachers
walking too slowly on salt watered beaches
i love sunsets and sunrises
and rusks with my tea
i love the rain-smell that storms bring…

and then someone lied when they said they "loved" me.

so I questioned this love
and that my reverie
was just that and the fact
we use "love" flippantly
so i journeyed in dismay
my heart chipped and cracked
i'd lost my first hope, believed all that i lacked.
i looked at the chasm and then walked away
turned my back on optimism
and kept hope at bay

and from grey mist i emerged
sluggard and slow
but not beaten, not broken
for this fact i know
that the only true love,
on which we can rely
that's deeper than oceans
and wider than sky
not fickle like love of a lover or friend
is Love that clung to a cross
love that cannot find end
and we can never fathom, or grasp or define
how this Love can change us
when we glimpse the Divine.

so we do change. and we hope. and we trust. and we fight.
and we do not go gentle into that dark night.
for just as Love fought to save us from the grave
so must we battle on, until Glorious Day
and love as Love loves, no matter the cost
and love those that Love loves, the broken, the lost.

and we know that life's hardships
may come and may go
but the rock of this Love
is a promise we know.
the hope of a Heaven and the treasure there stored
is a seal of Love's love, where we'll be restored.

x

lessons from zumba

here's why i like zumba. you work your butt off. i mean seriously, it's an intense workout. honestly, i need to trick myself into exercising, so zumba is so much fun {cause you're actually dancing} that you forget you're *gasp* gymming. but that's not the reason.

we have a brilliant instructor. she's vivacious, so much fun and really cheeky-sexy-spunky and she doesn't look like an ano-super model gym bunny. she makes you believe you might just look good doing what you do {even though you feel more like you're having an epileptic fit and are super self conscious of your jiggling bum}. that's also not the reason.

i love it because it gives women who usually don't believe they are confident or sexy, feel confident and sexy. housewives in baggy tracksuit pants suddenly come alive. they are not j-lo or beyonce. but when they samba-mambo-merengue their way through the class and shake their hips that don't lie, they look at themselves in the mirror like they like themselves. one woman a few weeks ago who wore ugly grey t-shirts now wears figure hugging racer tops. her body hasn't changed, her mind has.

none of us are dancers or models. but, really, do we need to be? or can we just believe that we are or, even better -- that we're not and don't need to be. and it's ok. it's better. cause we can still shake it like a polaroid picture.

that's all
x