Thursday, July 21, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
If we take too long deliberating over the pros and cons of a situation
or any opportunity you could find yourself in the distressing
position of realising that your window period has passed.
This applies in relationships too.
This week I've been hearing of instances where
exes having been quite happy on distancing themselves
from a former significant other are all of a sudden
trying to hit comebacks like their name is Arnold Schwarzenegger.
When it comes to relationships that have ended,
I say the best kind of window period you're gonna get
is the two week to a 3 month type window period
(I've heard of isolated cases of more extended periods,
but lets stick with the more common norm).
is not only something ridiculous, it's just plain sad.
So when you've messed up and missed a window period for whatever the reason,
suck it up,
admit you lost a great potential something,
and vow not to let the next good window period go without acting on it.
That's all folks :-)
new articles have been posted and
we would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on them.
wishlist of mentors.
This woman is ridiculously inspiring with her uber impressive CV,
wife and a mum.
She has recently created a lot of awareness around the lack of
women in senior management and when this
woman speaks you sit up.
Sheryl joins the ranks of Oprah, Angela Ahrendt and Khanyi Dhlomo
on my imaginary "Vimbai's mentors" list.
Refer here for Sheryl's TED talk: http://www.ted.com/talks/sheryl_sandberg_why_we_have_too_few_women_leaders.html
Sunday, July 17, 2011
One of my favourite scenes in the first installment of The Matrix is when Neo and Trinity are walking up some stairs in some random building (as they usually do) and Keanu Reeve's character spots a cat repeating a movement and says, "Deja Vu" and Trinity then informs him that someone's messed with the programming...or was it blueprint.
I never get deja-vu, well in the correct sense of the expression which according to Wikipedia is:
"is the experience of feeling sure that one has already witnessed or experienced a current situation, even though the exact circumstances of the previous encounter are uncertain and were perhaps imagined."
Mapping life's patterns and themes comes second nature to me, so I am in a perpetual state of deja vu...I just never get those obvious deja-vu moments people get when going down an escalator or walking into a room. Mine are more like, "haven't I seen this before, played out on Life's stage."
The fuel situation, or rather the lack of fuel situation in Johannesburg this weekend was some serious deja-vu:
- Driving at 40km per/hr so not to waste what little fuel you already have;
- Reconsidering functions hosted a million miles from your place;
- Calculating the most direct routes to places that do not involve climbing mini-mountains or hills and;
- By no means using the air conditioner to warm up your car.
I had been "here" before. It wasn't fun then and it isn't fun now.
Hopefully this particular case of deja-vu vaporises this week sometime, in the meantime, I'll be the one crawling along the highway at 20km per/hr ;-)
Stay blessed chickens,
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Those are FAVOURITE type of questions and
my girl "S" didn't disappoint.
Her workplace was throwing an African-themed event
and she had been roped in to present
an African dessert.
(Can you tell she doesn't reside on the African continent)
are killing me softly.
Here are a few to share:
Fruit salad (with mango and passionfruit)
Then they got interesting:
Sugar cane/nzimbe (complete with bowl to spit the chewed remenants)
long ass dissertations on how African children under
the age of 13 years, back in the day, considered any meat
"dessert" as it was normally reserved for adults. One
friend piped up and reminded us that the average African residing
in the rural areas can barely get a proper meal let alone
dessert and that dessert is for the privileged.
Now the debate has steered off in the direction of , "Dessert is not an
African concept and is something that was brought through
by the colonists and in fact, it's really an Arab concept and has been
improvised over the years."
In 10 minutes I have received 30 odd emails on this topic,
so I am going to fling the question to you, dear readers:
What constitutes an authentic African Dessert?
Or is there really no such thing?
Holla in the comments ;-)
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
"Fine, partly cloudy with a South-easterly airflow."
It started on a high,
bottomed out in the middle of the day,
life threw a curve ball at day end
Tomorrow is a new day,
Empires must be made.
This was Monday’s blog, but due to technical difficulties will be posted today :-)
Side note preamble: This post very nearly didn’t go up. Got home from dinner (more of that later), jumped into my fleece jammies and electric blanketed bed and have been fighting off the sleep since. If it wasn’t for the simple fact that I knew I had to do good by the blogging challenge set before me, I would have checked into Club Duvet (featuring DJ Pillow and The Sandman) about 15 minutes ago.
I was out at dinner with a friend earlier and she ordered the oddest dish I’d ever heard of, “prawns and chocolate”. Now both of those ingredients, served separately, are some of my favourite foods....but together, I wasn’t too sure about that.
After a very sceptical bite though, my opinion was swayed. It was positively yummy and decadent.
Reminded me once and for all that opposites do attract, hehehe ;-)
In other news:
1. Google+ has rendered me clueless. I pride myself on my techno-savviness, especially in the realm of social networking media....but this new entry has got me baffled. It’s not as straight-forward a site as I had hoped it would be and quite frankly I’m all socially networked out.
2. The art to overcoming that soul sinking Monday feeling is to “power dress” within an inch of your life. I was awarded “Best Dressed” in the office today after donning the following ensemble: blood red heels, black stockings, charcoal grey pencil skirt, red cardigan, turquoise pashmina, grey button earrings and a full face of make-up. The panel of judges where tough but apparently it was my pashmina that won the day ;-)
The mental and emotional benefits of power dressing cannot be overlooked, dear friends.
3. I love me a unique baby name, but Harper Seven...really? I love both those names, seriously. Said together it sounds like some South African slang to replace the expression, “Hoza/Ola Seven”. The play ground will be rough for this little new Beckham edition, with a name like that....luckily she has 3 older brothers watching out for her so she’s sorted.
4. What’s the going price for a Birkin Bag, last I checked it was somewhere in the region of “oh hell no....seriously?” though to “keep a copy of the store invoice and mount it on your living room to show the neighbours.” Either way, that bag will be the Holy Grail of all my bags.
Let me call it a night chickens!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Those close to me know that I'm mad,
absolutely stark raving mad about
all things "The Wizard of Oz" related.
Hence it wasn't entirely surprising that when
the last song was sung
and the final curtain came down
tears may have been shed and
'Twas so damn emotional.
One of the major highlights of the show was hearing
Wicked's signature track,
I first heard it on Glee and fell in love with it instantly.
(shout-out to Shonavixen, a fellow Gleeker)
When feeling demotivated and lack-lustre about life
or trapped, confused and running on empty.
This is the track that get's bumped triple time
in my car.
(Thanks Shonavixen for the Glee CD hook-up).
The words resonate with me more than ever these days.
I'm calling this period of my life,
"The Great Awakening"
becauses as the opening lines to the song so aptly explain,
"Something has changed within me,
Something is not the same.
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game."
With Monday fast approaching,
I urge y'all this week to participate in
Song lyrics can be found below:
Saturday, July 09, 2011
Before I begin my post properly, may we just take 10 seconds out to comment on the picture above.
Guys, that's one helluva of a long shark...it's longer than the itty bitty kayak *cringe*
Everything in me is hoping that this poster is one of those photoshopped items, otherwise...yah, as they would say in Zim slang, "it's late".
Back to the post:
Voice of Reason
Call it what you will, I am in the habit of never listening to it (to my own detriment). Instead I have been known to stubbornly forward march when everything in me is yelling that I should have backed up a couple gazillion miles back.
In the past, and by past I mean everything before this very minute in time (he he), I have been a staunch supporter of forced outcomes. Instead of taking heed that the person or action I insist on interacting with or participating in, respectively, would do me no favours, I come up with an alternative outcome that better suits me and supports my own judgement, as opposed to taking heed of that niggling feeling.
The older I get the more faith I place in this in-built alert system of mine (seeing as my lets-force-issues approach has netted me ZERO results) and if I listen carefully at this exact moment, it is telling me the following:
- Remove X from Blackberry Messenger contacts list;
- Ship is sinking, ship is sinking, find alternative transportation;
- You're too big for this box;
- Wait. Don't reach out. Don't contact. Nothing. Wait.
- You can help.
- Bad news...don't even consider it...why are you still considering it...can you stop considering it already. Yes, I'm talking to YOU.
- You're in the right direction.
- It's really up to you, the rest of the pieces are there to be linked up.
Most of these messages have been sitting on the backlog list of my "voice of reason" but like they say, better late than never (they also say "better late than pregnant", but i digress).
Care to share what your intuition/sixth sense/niggling feeling/voice of reason is saying to YOU right now?
Holla in the comments ;-)
Friday, July 08, 2011
Drama in casual hookups...heck, sure why not (whatever gets you going).
However, on-going drama in an actual relationship, come on now, that's just sabotage.
Having a hissy fit followed by punctuated uncomfortable periods of silence does nothing for your credibility and professionalism.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
6:45am: The haze of previously consumed antihistamines make waking up harder than usual, but even through this drug-induced mist I remember.
It’s your birthday today.
8:15am: Find myself going back and forth on whether to acknowledge the day, after all, we haven’t been a “we” for a long time now. Thoughts ricochet across different scenarios and options, I leave for work undecided.
“This really shouldn’t take up so much of my thought process”, I chastise myself, “After all, I can’t let a simple day hold me hostage.”
9:00am – 11:45am: Manage to successfully distract myself and plough through detailed “to-do” list. Who would have thought avoidance could be the cure to my long suffering bout of procrastination (wonders never cease).
Lunch spent with a good friend from work involves lots of laughter and thought provoking discussion over chicken curry and rice.
You don’t cross my mind.
1:00pm – 2:00pm: Participate in some corporate jibber jabber in an office boardroom, secretly wishing for time to speed-up so I can move on to the workshop that follows it.
2:00pm – 5:35pm: Get my mind blown away, in a very good way, during my workshop. Find myself brainstorming and planning with excitement the year ahead. Can’t believe how a day that started so apprehensively could flip on its head like this.
Walk out of workshop eager to apply the teachings and tips that were communicated.
6:00pm – 7:00pm: Still too excited after workshop and find myself bouncing ideas with good friend from work. Walk out of the office with a bounce in my step.
The world feels alive with possibilities.
8:00pm: Send him through birthday email. There’s no beef, our good times far outstrip the bad. Seems silly to have worked myself into a panic in the morning (I blame those antihistamines, loll)
8:04pm: His email response arrives. I smile and respond.
8:06pm: His last email arrives. “Well that was quite simple”, I tell myself and get on with the rest of my night, quite happily.
Moral of the story: Each day is your own and every person has the choice to use it constructively or to be held hostage in it.
I claim back this day and realise that it had always been mine in the first place.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Of late I've been scattier than usual. Naturally I want to blame the effects of the Beyonce Blonde* weave-on i'm sporting these days (so cute), but that would be a cop-out.
Ladies and gents, I am beginning to suspect I may have a case of late adult on-set of ADHD :-) Right about now I could do with one of those "Limitless" type pills to help me focus, channel all my energy into one specific direction instead of it being dispersed across a million and one things.
I've read up on all the Zen type books I can stomach, and they all keep alluding to "remaining present in the moment", "being in the moment" and "embracing the moment". It's pretty obvious that The Moment and I aren't on speaking terms and I need to rectify that asap.
So what's a girl to do nhai?
Well firstly, stay away from sugary substances. My natural self if hyper at best without the assistance of glucose, fructose and who knows! Growing up, my mother caught on rather quick that her children morphed into possessed demons when their paths crossed a Sprite bottle or some Mazoe, these "spirits" were reserved for special occasions. Funnily enough, just the other day my co-workers wanted to ban me from indulging in our daily latte treat...apparently I went into hyper-drive and they got scared, lol.
Next, i need to allocate time for certain thoughts. Thinking about everything all at once has proved useless, writing to-do lists has been somewhat helpful....as long as i stick to ONE to-do list and not multiple versions (all lying strewn across my apartment as we speak).
I will attempt saving the world one day at a time...one moment at a time....till then, i'm blaming my Beyonce Blonde weave ;-)
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
The plus side of having a memory like mine is that you remember the most arbitrary pieces of advice or scenarios when you’re hit with a real-time situation. Today’s little flashback down memory lane was no exception:
The year is....errr, let’s just say it’s long before The Age of Cell-phones and more in realm of time of when Madonna could wear white, claim to be “Like a Virgin” and nobody was side-eyeing her... out rightly anyway.
So to set the scene, there I am Little V, sitting in the school hall with a bunch of other kids and its reading time. This is the day I am introduced to the literary genius of one Roahl Dahl in the form of his book, “The Twits” which is ultimately a story of a husband-wife duo who perform hilariously unkind pranks on each other, just nje. One that particular day, the teacher reading the story paused after having read out the latest in a line of despicably funny but mean exploits performed by the couple on each other to issue her own words of wisdom*, that, “People can grow out of a lot of things, but generally, those with a harsh mean streak never grow out of being mean.”
Suffice to say, that comment on meanness stuck with me, unravelling itself in a multitude of ways over time but standing true all the while to that simple statement.
People, more often than not, do not grow out of "mean".
We could be here all day arguing over what motivates or encourages an individual to nurture a mean streak, but the crux of the matter is that if by a certain age you have not seen how this one personality trait of yours is alienating you from forming sincere relationships that are not based on characteristics, such as: intimidation, scorn, jealousy, pettiness and viciousness, then good luck to you.
I sincerely hope you get your wake-up call sooner rather than later.
Things I was told when I younger that I would grow out of and have resolved that I never will:
1. My current bra size: Before my mother realised I had inherited her side of the family’s lack of boobage, she was so optimistic that I would experience life beyond a b-cup, suffice to say, I am still waiting for paternal genes to kick in.
2. Allergies: Maybe allergy meds have advanced over time so they mask the symptoms better, but who are they kidding, nobody grows out of seasonally allergies, tsk tsk.
3. Cerelac: The only thing stopping me from consuming this yummy cereal, targeted towards newborns, every day of my life is the knowledge that my waistline will expand in a short space of time due to the ridiculous amount of kilojoules per spoonful.
4. Fluffy type chick-lit: I hope to goodness I NEVER grow out of reading this genre because nothing tickles the inner cockles of my heart quite like reading how Arab sheiks or Greek heirs succumb to the charms of some damsel of sorts. Predictability is the name of the game in this genre, with its formulaic story lines...thing is, I find comfort in this obviousness.
5. My flair for the dramatic: I’m a middle child. That is all.
*It’s worth noting that in that same sitting, this same teacher also informed us Third Graders that brushing one’s eyebrows every morning would avoid us a lifetime of embarrassment going forward in life. She was a wise teacher this one ;-)
Thanks to Shonavixen (of www.iamshona.com) for challenging me and a host of other bloggers to get to this 30-day blogging challenge. I can’t promise that every post will make sense, but here’s to keeping to it ;-)
Shameless Promotion: If you do have some time, please pass by www.diasporandarlings.com and read up on the latest host of articles recently uploaded. Don’t forget to get your commenting on ;-)
Have a good one chickens!