I wish that my laptop booted up to something other than XP and that 3G wasn’t such a spectacular pain in the ass…There you go for the random thought of the day. I know that I have been sadly lacking in the posting department but my kingdom has been…well, as muddled as horse dung in a fine consommé.

I am a bit lost. Not so lost as not to just at least look at the bloody soul-Garmin, but my rugged individualism* forbids such a thing. I am not sure where my life is going, and that is a daunting, yellow bellied thing.

I’ve been reading. Krugaza-san, without you I would be lost. You give me words that speak directly to the self in me I very rarely give attention**. You were right. Perhaps not something you often hear but still something you should hear. You have given me a book that has its strangely beautifully skeletal fingers insinuated into my spine. Marrow to marrow.

Tim Winton has stolen my breath and used it to shape words that I’ve felt, and known, but have never had the talent, nor the drive, to speak.

Page 4 of Dirt Music: “…Still, you had to admit that it was nice to be without a body for a while; there was an addictive thrill in being of no age,with no gender, with no past. It was an infinite sequence of opening portals, of menus and corridors that let you into brief, painless encounters, where what passed for life was a listless kind of browsing. World without consequence, amen. And in it she felt light as an angel.”

My connection is fubarring me. But whatever, here’s to writing for the first time in weeks, without the hope of reaching another mind. Into the void we go, with the soundtrack of Donnie Darko, echoing in the background***.

Before Dirt Music I was reading an Ursula Le Guin, Voices. In it she speaks so eloquently of books and their import. In one day I’ve managed to read words that enliven me. It’s been awhile. As you know, I love mind candy but I’ve been shaken out of this sodden horse blanket funk I’ve been in.

If you’ve ever flirted with despair you would understand the severe suckiness of not being able to trust your mind. For some stupid reason people seem to understand hormones as something a menopausal woman experiences instead of the thing it truly is. Hormones are the carriers of every reaction in your body. Good, ugly, or bad.

So, when those sons of bitches decide to mope, you are, to put it sweetly, marooned in an endless sea of despair. Yeah, I said it. Despair. In all of its joy draining bleh-ness. It saps hope, joy de vivre and dammit-I’m-alive-so-screw-you. It happily quaffs your endorphins and dribbles love down it’s pocked chin while trying to clumsily feel up the hapless wench who serves it.

*It’s a family saying, only barely disguising a genetic mess up of socially stunting proportions.

**I am after all, like most humans, a strange sheep-tortoise hybrid. Why deal with life, and it’s terrifying twists and turns when in stead, you hide. Hide and follow. Meeeehhhh, bitch, meeeeh.

***Something to which I am hurrying.

It is Sunday afternoon and I am sitting on Rambo’s new couches, the breeze is cool and soothing and it feels like my soul is wearing a sundress.

And…here’s the clincher…I am watching The Bachelor. This is on par with eating a huge tub of chocolate mousse all in one go, delight, happiness-of-the-mouth and sticky chocolate fluffiness which results in girly guilt and green gilled biliousness. Also, not something you tell your intellectual friends or, well, any human with a heartbeat*.

As I have previously said, TV turns your mind into a small, floppy carrot. So as far as this show goes, after the marathon I’m watching, I believe that I will be communicating in speech bubbles which will contain cartoon like letters like “gnnnnhhhh”, “troz” and the always popular “ppffrrzzll”.

So before my kingdom turns into orange smush, let’s take a stab at opinionated methinks:

The creators of this show should be given an award for the insight they have into the schadenfreude the human race gets from watching such utter humiliation and adulteration, where after they are locked up forever and have Sylvia Plath shock therapy given to them. Or lobotomies. Such power should not be let rampant.

What the hell are these people/contestants thinking? This guy gets to make 15 women fall in love with him, knowing full well that he will obliterate 14-15 hearts…and these physically attractive ladies  do everything in their power to be evil to each other and ever so purrrfect to this man that they know could potentially snap their selves. Yikes!**

That said, wooohoooo**! He has an identical twin which he wields in order to find out if the girls can distinguish which him he is. People, the producers of this show must have creamed themselves when they heard this. Can you think of better tv than this? And, oh yeah, the brother is married and gets to flirt with these prettinesses. So yay for extending said adulteration. How would you think his wife felt when watching this? Did she bask in the extended fame or did she beat him about the head a la Elin Nordegren ?

Oh my soul folks this is fascinating. The twin thing is working! It is brilliant tv. Some actually get it. The women who don’t get it must feel like utter fools. They are either self involved or just idiots.

There are some moments of heartbreaking honesty though. Some of these women are genuinely crushing hard on this guy. Maybe that is why this show is so addictive. The moments of real life is poignant and the bitchiness is freaking legendary.

Episode 3 is starting and I cannot help myself but watch for Deanna aka The Bachelorette***. Which makes me wonder if we adore personalities because we are forcefed by the media. No wonder you make it only if you have a well connected manager. But perhaps I will find out why she is so troz ggghhnnnn….

Ok that’s me. I can no longer think. Have an awesome Sunday.

* Y’all are fellow kingdoms not just mere mortals.

**2 shows into it…the prrffzzll is starting.

***Bless South Africa’s backwardness as all we seem to have is endless reruns.

I’ve been so busy reading that I thought I should share the awesome. I am a believer in e-polyandry as I would like to marry these following sites.

As a matter of fact, I love it so much that I want to get an iPhone or some such thing just so that I will never ever ever be without my preciouses* and I loathe cellphones.

1. Twitter

I’ve briefly told you about my love for Twitter. My love is now of the obsessive sort where I would follow it everywhere, go albino a la The Bodyguard and send it 160 character love letters with glued newspaper letters.

Now that you know it is mine, all MINE…ahem…if you actually want to know what it is: Twitter is a micro blogging site where you can follow clever/entertaining/informative folk in your lines of interest. They (and you) update sms length strings of text about what you are currently reading/doing/find interesting.

I use it primarily to find out more about my work. It is an incredibly useful filtering tool. People who like what I like, and who know more than I do, give me links to information which just about rock my world and keep me from blogging.

Do try it. And add me if you want to know more about the sheer awesome that is SEO, social media strategy and other generally prod buttock internetty things.

2. Google Wave

This relationship is in the idiot 14 year old first kissathon stage**. Gwave is all awkward limbs, and tripping anxiety but anyone with half a brain can see the superstar adult it will be. I figure if I marry it early it won’t know better and leave me when it hits the Big Time.

What it is: other than the above and previously mentioned post, it is a collaboration tool which mashes instant messaging, email, file sharing and brainstorming all in one. You can have private waves or public ones…take a moment to really think what that means for spreading ideas…

/gooseflesh…let me know on Twitter what your Gwave address is and we’ll play together.

3. Feedly

This is a brand, spanking new love. Our eyes met across the Firefox Add On page and that the immediate attraction had us gravitate towards each other, never losing eye contact, and start a conversation about all the things I love. It was a bit scary how Feedly knew so much about me*** but it felt like coming home****.

What it is:

Firefox Addons say: “A magazine-like startpage. A fast and stylish way to read and share the content of your favorite sites and services. Provides seamless integration with Google Reader, Twitter, Delicious, YouTube and Amazon.”

I love almost all things Google but the reader was clumsy and daunting to say the least – I follow a lot of sites – but this…this is just gorgeous. This is from one of the sites I would shell out cash money to read:

Mashable: “Feedly takes the concept of the homepage and takes it to the next level by providing a real-time summary of the most relevant content available on the web based on your interests, your reading patterns, and recommendations from your friends. You can take your different profiles, bookmarks, and accounts from sites like Twitter (), Yahoo Mail, GMail () and Friendfeed (), and apply them to your Feedly.”

I’ll give y’all a proper YGM soonish.

*LOTR reference fully intended.

**I’ve mostly no idea what I am doing but even so the fumbling is wonderful.

***Not kidding…if it wasn’t so awesome it would be very scary. A cookie miner/history trawler program of some kind? Hmmmm.

**** Where home=drool inducingly pretty and convenience maximized lay out.

It is a beautiful cloudy cold day and I can’t really speak because my jaw is clenched rather firmly shut and my molars are getting really intimate with one another*. So intimate in fact that you can see their motion through the jumping muscles in my cheeks.

I think I did a prat fall out of bed this morning.  Ok so it didn’t help that between me dreaming of how Google Wave will change the world*** and my lovely 2.5 year old demanding ice cream at 3 in the morning, I did not get much sleep.

Have you ever wanted to eviscerate someone? Well I would like to rip the intestines out of an all round bastard. I wish with all the biohazard grade bile currently backed up in my body that I could tell you who he is. This evil mother…bitch decides to pay MM (to whom I outsourced the job) only a part of an invoice 5 MONTHS after she worked her ass off. His reason? He feels that the printing handling fee to which they verbally agreed is “ridiculous/exaggerated” and he doesn’t feel like approving it. I could go into how much work this…man…caused by only getting back to us at his leisure. Oh and they have posted us the checque for the ‘approved’ amount… a few days ago. $#%*&!!!!! This means he not only foresaw that we could do nothing but it is doubly insulting that he gets to say “the cheque is in the mail”….ooooh breathe Feylian breathe.

I need to stop thinking about this because I will do something career killingly stupid. What I resent most is that we, as said bastard hammered home, have no power to really do anything about it. A war over a R5k invoice is stupid and he has a lot more resources than we do. He is a crooked nuclear waste carrying tank and we are 2 guerilla fighters armed with ancient Mauser’s and a handful of bullets. Oh for a little justice. This is the kind of thing that makes me really hate men of a certain age and type****

Gahhhh…anyway back to the Google Wave thing. If you have not yet played with this please do so now. It will change the way we communicate so radically it is breathtaking to think about. It is still, as Boaz says, a bit chaotic and buggy but the potential is staggering.  I woke up at 4 this morning knowing that it will almost completely replace forums. And that’s without the collaborative bells and whistles. What I want is for my company to…ahem…ride the wave and write a plugin. We have the skills but guess what? Yes, that’s it. We don’t have enough programmers. SAP and Salesforce can afford to throw a few grand at innovation whereas we could maybe do so a bit later…so unbelievably frustrating. By the time we can afford to play with this new tech it will be too late.

The more time I spend submersed in research on new tech and SEO/Social marketing the more I know that it is my path and passion. I just wish I could know MORE. There is so much to learn and it is so bloody awesome. Quite literally bloody as my no longer elastic memory and reasoning attempts to assimilate vast amounts of information and this leads to blood dripping out of my ears. It also causes my team inclination to sink to previously unplumbed depths. Or perhaps I just need that holiday more than I thought. I think it might be a good idea for me to work from home tomorrow. I’ve already growled at El and I love her…

1. Word of the day: disembowel (The Sage: 1. remove the entrails of) I like that. The old Roman in me wants to then use a stick for a spot of divination.

2. Insight of the day: Being angry is really bad for you and wonderful for your dentist.

3. State of the pool: hissing, spitting hot but contained acid.

4. Joys of the day: 1. going home, 2. wine, 3. speaking to no one, 4. Reading Anathem (it is a really big book ok) in a womb like bath.

5. Awesomest lines: From an Ars Technica article on Google Wave.

“If I had to describe, the best I could do is this: Wave is a mash-up of email, IM, IRC, online forums, and wikis, all rolled into an experience that sort of resembles (to me, at least) a MOO.”

6. Scripture lines: Ezekiel 25:17 (King James Version)

¹⁷And I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes; and they shall know that I am the LORD, when I shall lay my vengeance upon them.

*The kind of intimate that a 90’s R&B singer would just have to compose a song that would contain words like “hot”, “grind” and “my baby”. And the video would feature LL Cool J licking a lollipop and the required tight cut off jeans and I’m-a-lumberjack**shirt. Wait, there should be some whipping too. And a fine sprinkling of calcium dust on everything.

***Think a tsunami of 2012 proportions.

****50ish, married on paper but definitely not in spirit, too many business dinners portly and just short enough to qualify for Napoleon syndrome but not so short that he would fail at business. The kind of guy who thinks it his right to paw his secretary. I’ve known, and been pawed by, enough of these to qualify this grand generalisation.

Due to a typical Feylian f…mess up I left my lovely Dell’s cable at a client. So now I am back in front of a PC at the office where I poured out much of my soul last year this time. Amazing how the same playlist*, same view, hell…the same emoticons on MSN, drag out growling memories best left unpoked with a pointed stick**.

But since we are here, let’s river dance on the gravel of broken-hearted-way-back-when.*** Roughly last year this time I started forming what can only be described as a spectacularly bad idea. I was falling, nay hurling, in love with someone who filed me under the same level of attractiveness as say, a small white mushroom. After declaring my fungial lurve to him he kindly said no thank you. And then the blog started. Lookit here (bottom up folks) if you want a quick catch up.

More importantly though, I found the awesome love of God. My commitment to the faith has since waned considerably**** but I’m slowly reclaiming that space in my head.

The point of  this post however, is how our memories, or lack of memories, shape who we are. Rambo, Himself and I had a brief discussion on Saturday about moments in our lives which either changed us or changed the direction of our lives so radically that the concept of who we think we are changed. Is there some unchangeable core of Feylian-ness which defies change? Or am I really the sum of my experiences, or more importantly the experiences I can examine?

Keep in mind that that memories are heavily edited things. We shape our world narratively (thanks PTerry’s – narrative causality) and as we tend to be the ones telling our own life stories we will almost without fail slowly (or not so slowly depending on the level of narrativium or denial in your cellular make up) change the story until we are portrayed as we hope to be.  So are we ultimately who we decide we should be? Or do we eventually become that person?

Maybe our memories do not shape us so much as our thoughts do…but how much of our thoughts consists of stories we made up to understand the world?

1. Word of the day: advent (The Sage:  1. arrival that’s been awaited – especially something momentous). In Anathem Neal Stephenson gives this word (and quite a few more) a whole new meaning.

2. Insight of the day: If you are not as moved as you used to be by a certain thing, it might be because it has become a part of you.

3. State of the pool: Contemplatively sloshing out of the reach of a retarding sun

4. Joys of the day: 1. thinking again, 2. finding joy in long avoided gospel music, 3. knowing to my marrow that I am loved, 4. my leave starts Friday…a week of reading and bliss await.

5. Awesomest lines: Still Anathem from Neal Stephenson. READ IT. It will make you a better human being.

6. Scripture lines: God is God – Stephen Curtis Chapman

And the pain falls like a curtain
On the things I once called certain
And I have to say the words I fear the most
I just don’t know

And the questions without answers
Come and paralyze the dancer
So I stand here on the stage afraid to move
Afraid to fall, oh, but fall I must
On this truth that my life has been formed from the dust

God is God and I am not
I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting
God is God and I am man
So I’ll never understand it all
For only God is God

And the sky begins to thunder
And I’m filled with awe and wonder
‘Til the only burning question that remains
Is who am I

Can I form a single mountain
Take the stars in hand and count them
Can I even take a breath without God giving it to me
He is first and last before all that has been
Beyond all that will pass

Oh, how great are the riches of His wisdom and knowledge
How unsearchable for to Him and through
Him and from Him are all things

So let us worship before the throne
Of the One who is worthy of worship alone

* Including the earphones which squish my ears until they are a warm cherise of exquisite yelping owie. What’s that? Take it off? Pah. Don’t be silly. Soundslut reporting for duty ma’am.

**

*** Disclaimer: I love Him. I don’t want a life where He is not part of every day of my existence in no way am I considering ever going down that road again. This post is about memory shaping personality.

****I never stopped believing in the truth though. God remains all I want and all I’ve ever needed.

Brace yourself. Shallow post this:

Either I have become more aware of the members of my gender or I am suddenly surrounded by a few drool inducingly hot females. All shining hair, lip gloss wielding, lily white yielding flesh and razor wit. I completely understand why you wand carriers* can barely think around women. Let it be known that I occasionally have these 2 hour bouts of infatuation on extraordinary human beings, male or female**. Himself said that he thinks everyone has these bouts but that they just don’t talk about it. Is this true?

Now, I am no hag and have in my time caused a few moments of lusty discomfort but I’ve always wondered what it is like to be truly beautiful. Do beautiful women have so different a life from the Jane’s of the world? And while we are at it, beautiful men too. CC is freaking gorgeous***. Poet Programmer piningly concurs. So let me rephrase: do beautiful people have so different a life from the rest of us?

I wonder what it is like to look in a mirror and 9.9/10 times think “not too shabby, eh Nige” as opposed to the mental editing that happens with normal folk. Oh don’t pretend you don’t know what I am talking about. The Jane’s of the world all have that brain powered editing suite without which it would be just that little bit harder to walk out the door and face the world which has had beauty ads crammed down its collective throat everyday for years. Lookit this if you are doubtful:

1. Word of the day: rapturous (The Sage: 1. a feeling of great rapture or delight)

2. Insight of the day: My ‘golden oldies’ are almost exclusively 90’s music. This sucks beyond belief as it was just the other day >.< *mutter mutter*

3. State of the pool: Sluggish but quite burbly.

4. Joys of the day: 1. Listening to ‘golden oldies’, 2. drinks with El the Legend, Himself and FdP at the upside down cow later today 3. Listening to D cutely mangle say “plesier” when I thanked him.

5. Awesomest lines: Neal Stephenson’s Anathem. I can’t begin to describe how magnificent this book is. If I ever stumble across the fountain of youth I would offer the first cup to this man on the promise that he will never stop writing.

* I put on my robe and wizard hat from good ol bash.org.

**I believe that you should be a little in love with the people with whom you spend time because otherwise you are wasting your life. Why spend time with people for whom you couldn’t care less?

***Aesthetically speaking folks. I adore Himself who btw is smoking hot…/grin…*sigh pine*, anyway…CC is the kind of godlike pretty which makes him so far out of the Jane league that you wouldn’t even consider a liaison with him. Like, ever. Unless you look like Hot Bridesmaid…pity she has a significant other and CC is in that godforsaken ocean place.

I love what I do. Yes, I know it is sickening to hear but I really do. I think I might die if the internet did. Which btw you really need to be aware could be an option if the evil bastards/US Congress those people get away with what they are planning. Lookit please?

I would not mind becoming a gargoyle* minus the Sumerian memes connection. I would love having my eyeballs wired permanently into the web. Sleep shcmeep.

I’ve been doing a lot of research both for my company and for clients and when you are so deeply immersed in words like that of Mark Suster (I am not worthy, I am not worthy) and about 400 other blogs you tend to come up for air/actual face to face contact only occasionally.

Twitter is amazing. I think I love it like a 16 year old chubby library prefect loves the rockstar beautiful head boy. /Sigh pine ftw.

I wish that I could explain to you how wonderful it is to be a virtual Michelangelo touch away from the minds who not only create my (and your) world but who constantly re-invent and better it. How can anyone not want to live this? AND get paid to do so**.

I realised yesterday that the more time I spend online the less I want to spend in social butterfly mode. Here, I am a few clicks away from soaking in pure thought. Granted some of it is drivel and there are some scary bits but mostly it is the best of this world. Why wrangle with non verbal cues when you have @replies and RT’s?

1. Word of the day: taciturn – just for you Gabor :) – (The Sage: 1. habitually reserved and uncommunicative)

2. Insight of the day: I would not mind working for Flight Centre. YAY for them showing the rest of SA where companies should be heading.

3. State of the pool: Sparkly blue conducting fluid

4. Joys of the day: 1. Reading, 2. biting the ends of a Chomp and then drinking coffee through it. 3. Planning Sunday lunch with MM.

5. Awesomest lines: Don’t Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day by Pablo Neruda

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because –
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying

6. Scripture line: John 15:16

“You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.”

*Excellent review of Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson here. Ugly page but very well written.

** I am all joyously exposed nerves and beating heart that I am being paid rather a lot of money to do what I love.

Those of you who possess more computing power than say, a sponge, know that it is a spectacularly bad idea to trawl your new love’s history of the heart. You may have heard the brutal truth but actually seeing it is about on the same level of fun as playing barefoot bowls on a field of shattered window panes while taking big gulps of mustard gas.

Why do we do it though? Are we such masochists? You know it will tear rents in your soul yet you hungrily read the next bit of text, you hunt for words of love or betrayal and when you find them you experience a moment of tainted pleasure. Please sir, may I have some more blood filled porridge?*

Oh and things are going just spectacularly well with Himself’s roommate. Understandable or not, he is throwing a brokenhearted, lonely, angry, destructive, self pitying tantrum that would do a 2 year old proud. The problem came in when I, who have known him for only a few weeks, told him pretty much verbatim, all of that. I may be right but saying so was also a VERY BAD IDEA. I’m also the cause of the roommate’s only friend (pretty much) never being home. Anyone want to take a guess who gets the Evil Bitch of the Year award?

On the upside: D’s dad was not only civil with me today but actually said, and I hope you are sitting down for this, “thank you”. May it be that the past year of tense, barely restrained bitterness is coming to an end?

*The Last Emperor- the only scene in that movie to have ever stuck with me. Innocuous white porridge with blood welling through the broken crust.

How do people get anything done during summer? Even worse, when in love, during summer? I have a choice: I can take whatever responsible braincells* I have left and do my job or I can write here. Guess which has been winning?

Then there is the whole writing when sickeningly happy  thing. MM and I discussed it earlier. I think there is something fundamentally bent** about writers. How is dipping your fingers in the black tar of hurt and fingerpainting words on any available surface not a little abnormal?

I think a wordsmith is one who can harvest that intensity and refine it, stopper it in an inkwell and later use a fine nib to write every day. I know that I don’t have that kind of talent/drive, so when I am as rib-huggingly happy, the last thing I want to do is trawl a dank basement stocked with jars of fermenting gall in order to scribble a quick ygm.

I wish I could go book shopping. Please note that I would rather dress in rags and have my hair done annually than go without visiting Tall Stories. I miss reading books. I’ve been so busy with work research, and Ye Olde Social Life, that caressing a pulpy spine is a guilty, very intermittent, occurrence. Oh and my car is proving to be a tad expensive. Lovely old dame that she may be.

1. Word of the day: peripatetic (The Sage: 1. traveling especially on foot 2. of or relating to Aristotle or his philosophy). I wonder how that one word came to mean such different things but I can see how it would make sense. Teachers way back when tended to travel a lot.

2. Insight of the day: Apparently nothing tastes as good as being thin feels. I wish I could wholeheartedly believe/embrace this because for me, as good as being thin feels, how can it be better than a spicy breyani which tastes of cream and earth? Or cocoa powdery mint ice cream freezing your mouth when sweat runs down your spine? That said, I need to start working out. The consequences of happiness of the mouth is not fun :/

3. State of the pool: stir me with a wooden spoon and whistle your favourite 70’s melodic rock tune :)

4. Joys of the day: 1. Talking with friends, MM and WaWa this morning and receiving counsel of both the sublime and the practical, 2. putting my chin on my hand and feeling the breeze on my face while daydreaming of Him, 3. kissing D’s still baby chubby cheek and feeling him squirm but then relent and throw little arms around my neck.

5. Awesomest lines: Billie Holiday – Fine & Mellow

6. Scripture lines: Philipians 2 (NIV)

¹If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, ²then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. ³Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. ⁴Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

*Even the laziest of us have a few of these category 2, leadership jacket wearing, clipboard holding, shiny shoe, side parted bryl creemed cells primly bossing the rest of the braincells around. I think any folk who willingly join home owner’s associations or who go to local municipal meetings have rather a lot of these cells…

**The Afrikaans word “geknak” does it better justice.

As you know: I love what I do and the company that allows me to do so. However, currently thinking of my future  makes me feel like my ribs are being rythmically and methodically pounded by a few million nanotech hammers. Every day I have less breathing space and this is not because my Wonderbra has decided to go Austen on me and has surreptiously turned into a full-bring-on-the-smelling-salts-corset*.

No, it is because I’m neither an employee nor an owner. The 3 non members have almost all the responsibility and stress of keeping the company afloat and almost none of the traditional perks of being an employee. Now this is incredibly freeing but it inevitably leads to wanting a slice of the awesome you help to create.

I wish they would make up their minds already. All we can do is ask. If it is no then so be it, but these endless meetings where we are ever more like whiny girlfriends begging for a wedding date is starting to get old. Please note that it is hardly fun for the members, the difference is that they are holding the ring. Having power you see, is a like a owning a panther with a bladder infection.

To continue with the blendy metaphors: Why marry someone if you don’t know if they are (lookit mom, restraint) good cooks and why whip up that 7 layered hazelnut parfait if they are not willing to marry you?***

On the other hand maybe I am just not seeing it. Maybe I am so blinded by the thought of being equal and really heard that I am missing something. Maybe I am made to be an employee, someone to be herded and shaved to the bone every now and again.

Spoke the Him last night about where we see our careers are going and I know exactly what I want to do. I want a few programmers like The Architect**, Boaz and Poet Programmer as well as a delightful venture capitalist with an avuncular interest in innovation & automation to mentor and fund us for a few months.

One tiny problem with this. Well, 2. #1: What about my current company? and #2: how will my brand new sticky pink lurve survive 72 x (14h x 365d)? The answer for both is not looking rosy folks. Actually it looks decidedly on the dried blood side of pink.

I really don’t  know how to go forward. I’ve had a crap load of deals collapse on me this year, mostly due to my not knowing enough in order to save it. In my defense I’d only been busy with this new career since January, which I have to shamefacedly admit is hardly a saving grace, and I did not receive support or training but that isn’t really an excuse either. I could have done more and now I have to eat my eggless omelet while waving at the basket which contained said yolky joy. So I can understand the reluctance to let me in kitchen to play at parfait. HOWEVER, I also know that I am bloody talented. And no one is more surprised at this than your author. It rocks finding something that you can really do and do well.

/SIGH

1. Word of the day: equal (The Sage: 1. having the requisite qualities or resources to meet a task, 2. having the same quantity, measure or value as another)

2. Insight of the day: I need a real holiday. I am tired and it’s not just from the perpetual lack of sleep :/

3. State of the pool: Troubled but clear

4. Joys of the day: 1. Rediscovering a playlist that I listened to exactly this time last year and being able to contrast one year with another, 2. Dreaming of waking up between Him and D, 3. flexitime which allows me to finish this blog and spend some real time with my son and finish my work tonight :)

5. Awesomest lines: Elsa Volschenk: so vind jy my

ek is nie opsoek na jou gretige belangstelling in my doen en late,
jou sout-van-die-aarde sjarme wat my jou ego gaan laat vaar tot ‘n mate nie

ek is nie opsoek na jou stukkie insig wat jy dink my gaan stimuleer
of jou diepste seer om my siels-empatie mee te infiltreer nie

ek is ook nie opsoek na jou prentjie droom wat jy hoop ons eendag sal wees nie

ek is eintlik net hier
vir jou

sonder al die dinge wat jy glo my gaan laat aanhou soek
vir daardie iemand

wat jy nie is nie

6. Scripture line: Ephesians 4 (NIV)

¹As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. ²Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. ³Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. ⁴There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— ⁵one Lord, one faith, one baptism; ⁶one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

*I swear it. It looks exactly like it used to but the wire seems to be boring into my ribs. Who needs a tracheotomy when you can just poke holes in your lungs with underwire…rattling breath death by a housekeeper with an agenda. Perhaps I should explain to her that D’s inheritance is not yet all that and machine washing underwear is not the most effective tool for instant wealth. Oh wow. She might have to wait longer than I thought. I don’t have a will…this is not good.

**Incredibly talented programmer that I worked with seamlessly and that was before I realised I can do what I now know I can.

***I.e. Why should they give us ownership if we haven’t “performed” and why should we “perform” if we don’t have ownership?