Cameron VS Christ

Well the controversy has hit the fan as yet another hollywood heavywhite lines up to take on the great Christian argument. I am sure most of u have read about Mr James Cameron (yes...thats right Titanic director) and his supposed discovery of the crypt of Jesus Christ. Apparently 25 or so years ago this crypt was discovered in Israel and contains the coffins of people called Jesus, Mary, Joseph and even Judah - a person named as Jesus' son! Well Mr Cameron is running around like a looney giving press conferences and saying that they have DNA confirmation that this is in fact Jesus Christ and his family and this then disproves the resurrection. No i am an Agnostic and therefore it is in my nature to be sceptical...of EVERYTHING! What, prey, are they comparing these supposed DNA samples to that they can prove this is good old JC? And apparently the reason that this has all been hush hush for so long is because they were struggling to decipher the names on the coffins - but according to 'experts' the language of Jesus and his people is still easily understood and spoken today?!

To be honest i find the whole thing rather frustrating. I am not sure whether Cameron has really got anything in this documentary, but you can be certain that the church will be in arms about it, just like they were with the Da Vinci code and therefore inadvertantly give it much more publicity than it would gain ordinarily, because lets face it...there is entertainment value in the Catholic church throwing a wobbly! What everyone seems to forget is that the greatest significance of Jesus (son of God, or not) is not his ressurection or his miracles, but rather his teachings to everyone to be kinder better people. All this changing water to wine and healing the sick is just fireworks. The essence should be "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" - and no matter what any documentary reveals the message should not be undermined.

Heavy stuff i know...

gyps

RIP Marvin: 1999 - 20 February 2007

Cut down in his prime, Marvin was a car of strong character. From shady beginnings he found peace and love in Grahamstown where he met his devoted owner (moi) and the love of his life Betty the Beetle. This is her eulogy as told to Lolly: “The first cut is the deepest, and betty just can't get over Marvin. I try to point out all the shiny sports cars and hi-tech pseudo 4x4s, but she is not fooled by the sleek exteriors. She knows a real man when she sees one, and Marv was him, understated, but far superior.” At his height he carted me and my belongings back to Durban on the hottest day of the year, braving the PMB roads with his little 1300 engine. As lolly said, the first cut is the deepest. SOB! I expect all who knew and loved him to sport a black band around their arms for the duration of the mourning period. Sleep well my little friend in the big garage in the sky.

Plato’s Allegory of the Cave

Imagine prisoners who have been chained since childhood deep inside a cave. Not only are their limbs immobilised by the chains; their heads are chained as well so that their gaze is fixed on a wall.Behind the prisoners is an enormous fire, and between the fire and the prisoners is a raised walkway, along which shapes of various animals, plants, and other things are carried. The shapes cast shadows on the wall, and the prisoners watch these shadows. When one of the shape-carriers speaks, an echo against the wall causes the prisoners to believe that the words come from the shadows.The prisoners engage in what appears to us to be a game - naming the shapes as they come by. This, however, is the only reality that they know, even though they are seeing merely shadows of images.

Do you have feel like a shadow of yourself? Like a poor copy or a cheap imitation. For a long time I have been feeling like I am just this fraction of who I was. Just this shadow that holds none of the brightness and lightness of the original.

A bit of a bleak post but this is how it can feel in limbo. Especially when in the space of the new year your car and home have been broken into and your car has been written off thanks to an ass who thinks its okay to STOP in the fast lane. Kind of hard to hold on to one’s usually sprightly self.

A trip to tacky town and other things

Once more back to work - but had a nice escape this weekend from this steamy town. Went off to joburg (which is as dry as a camel’s ass but I was just thankful for no humidity) and had a lovely time. Think I just needed a little escape. And that’s what I got – a jaunt to Sandton (where I got to feel kak about myself thanks to many pieces of walking dental floss [commonly called models], but made self feel better by purchasing a Stoned Cherrie Dress.) Was also cheered by impressive Audi logo for fashion week (seen above) what greatness. On Saturday night we whizzed around Tacky Town (AKA Monte Casino) – I’m sorry but the plastic laundry on the washing lines of this “authentic” Italian town is just too much for me really – however it was enjoyed by Rory’s girlfriend Tiff, as they have nothing like that in the UK. And how beautifully odd is this? – in the middle of that towering monument to capitalism and hedonistic Western living was a wonderful little crystal shop – I mean go figure?! These to sweet whimsical old dears selling stones to cure every human problem, and talking to you in soft, reassuring tones, amid the wailing sirens of casino wins, and wailing patrons of casino losses. Was very odd – but I purchased something anyway. A worry stone of amethyst that is meant to relax you when you rub it. I believe fervently in these things until I write about them or have to tell someone about it and then I feel like a kook.

So the little brother (hmmm) has gone back. It is sad when suddenly it is just accepted that your little family will never live in the same house again. Its like Zach Braff says in Garden State: “You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? That idea of home is gone. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."

Okay much love

gypsy child

Thank God its Friday – oh now wait its actually only Tuesday and tomorrow is the day of greetings card punishment!

So today has been a day of cards and hearts and roses. Have become office bitch and am deep etching and gray scaling many a happy couple for my non design literate colleagues, so that they can have personalised love tokens to give to the person of their choice. Wow - totally making this loathsome holiday easier looking at the smiling satisfied faces of your co workers and their significant others. Corporate shite Holiday (this shall remain my official position until a large truck fulled with roses, balloons and scrubs dvds pulls up outside my office).

Anyway moving on…Oh god, last week when I went to get my cousin’s hen party presents I crossed swords with a chauvinist bastard clicks employee. You see I got her a necklace from woollies (good old standby that it is) and this lovely sari sarong thing for her honeymoon in Mozambique, and then I thought well it is a hen party so I went to clicks to get her some of that saucy durex lube. I get to the till and I thought fuck this no point in being embarrassed - well the dude behind the till eyed me like I was a stripper or something, and then as I was walking away the ass says to me in this dirty voice - I hope u enjoy that! wow was so tempted to go into a Keighley-like rant about the rights of women to express their sexuality but decided to hold my tongue, skeef him and walk out - urg pig man! The thing is I am sure that it would have been a waste of breath as he probably would never have had any idea why he had offended me in the first place…

Last nite went to Billy the Bum’s for dinner (such a good burger and beer for R35, plus can wear slops – highly recommended) tried to get hold of dear old design sammy but alas she was not picking up. Afterwards me rory, tiff and a whole lot of his mates went to Suncoast… Oh dear, lost R200 (which I SO do not have) playing black jack – but it is so much fun man. I just love the whole “hit me” vibe (hmmmm). Very cool – even if Sun coast is a bit on the tacky side. Oh well.

Enough for now
love

Western traditions

Hi there fan club. Well sorry I have been MIA for so long but families have a way of doing that to you. There have been dinners and lunches, and hair appointments and wedding preparations and eyebrow waxes, and on top of that I am still going to work and I got a cold. So I hope I am forgiven (by the two readers who frequent this site – he he) All is good and well in my world though. The wedding was a fairytale affair and my cousin seemed to glow throughout which is kinda the whole point. Most amusing when she threw the bouquet and it managed to land in her gran’s lap despite the fact that she wasn’t trying to catch it…saucy minx! As is wedding custom there was an excess of watery eyed single woman, all thinking “I’ll never get married” and a handful of lusty single men all trying to get into the bridesmaids dresses – ah the joys of western “tradition”. Catch up soon.
h

wotalotigot

My family is descending upon us and Durban seems much smaller now that the Bonds are heading this way. We have stocked up on all the booze necessary for a dysfunctional family holiday (why is it that by their very nature families are so horrifying?) don’t get me wrong, I do love them dearly, and strangely families have that ability, along with all their oddities to make you feel safe, and normal. So it will be an interesting couple of weeks to say the least, and all I really have to concern myself with is not going to work with too many hangovers, and dodging the flying insults – its all fun and games until someone loses an eye, or so they say.

So not much going on on the working side of things…Been wondering about my colleagues (as you do). There is this one person (gotta work the anonymity angle here people) who is very nice, but totally monotone (do u get me). You know just flat, takes everything in *its* stride and never gets ruffled. Seems to have no real interests and in fact nothing to say, and I just wonder you know, in everyone there has got to be some abnormality – and so if you have this perfect social mask that never slips, what is lurking underneath. Now I am not talking axe wielding, dress wearing serial killer Norman Bates types, but more like maybe enjoying a good old spanking (eek), better yet a golden shower or perhaps something as mundane as only eating smarties in even numbers. Well the smartie thing isn’t that great, but I would certainly pay to know other peoples funny little secrets (and now I bet you are wondering what mine are??? – I promise it is none of the above, although I like to leave purple and blue smarties til last because they are pretty, and I always eat the brown ones first because they are boring). Strange thoughts for a Thursday afternoon I am sure, but that is what is running through my warped little head today.

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be

So I am now part of the South African tradition: I have been broken into and had people I don't know rumage through my underwear draw, make of with my most prized possesions (damn jewellery for being so sentimental) and generally scare the shit out of me. Thats right: we had a break in! And here's where the nostalgia comes in: 10 years in our house and not an incident...its silly but i have never been a nervous person, despite the ridiculous crime rate. Stupidly enough I still believed it happened to other people. But alas I am other people. Sorry to anyone who spoke to me yesterday: i was practically packing my bags and leaving the country that nite :) never under estimate the hysteria of two women (me and my mom) scorned by baddies... Anyway shit has calmed down and we have resolved to get a big Fuck Off scary black dog and start setting the alarm (duh), and are putting the imigration plans on hold...until next time :(

So here is the question i pose to you today...Is it possible to feel nostalgic about something you didn't experience? I am listening to Tiny Dancer (sorry...still not over it) and thinking of that scene in Almost Famous *SIGH* I was totally born in the wrong era - I do not want to follow Eminem around the countryside thank you very much, or the Backstreet Boys (ick). Well I am in good company, Mr Dave Grohl from the Foos also gets all nostalgic from this song (although i don't know what he is getting al misty eyed about - the bastard has his own fucking groupies) and did quite an amusing version of it, a sort of tribute to Cameron Crowe. Anyway anyone wanting to hear it, ask and thou shalt recieve (in the form of an e-mail)

In other exciting news: One more sleep until my brother gets here. Yay! Will not be at work tomorrow (whoop whoop) as will be fetching the little bastard from the airport. Who said families don't have benefits?

Little did she know....

Well i went to see Stranger than Fiction on Sunday nite. Wow so amazing. It was just brilliant. I am quite impressed by how Will Ferrel can stretch himself, and Maggie Gyllenhall was fabulously alternative as per usual. I was particularly impressed with her character refusing to pay 22% of her tax because that was the part that goes to national defense and government party kick backs ( you know...the good stuff). ANyway good old Harold Crick is as boring as shit and yet when the wonderous Emma THompson (still one of my faves) narrates his dull little life it takes on this mystical aura - greatness. SHe describes how he hears the brushing of manila file folders as the crashing waves of an endless ocean So my new goal is to find something dull and mundane to narrate everyday (okay lets not be silly, more likely it will happen occasionally when i am feeling whimsical), thereby extracting the magical. Little known fact: I hold in my heart deep desires to be a writer, not a brilliant one (well of course, but again lets not be silly) or insanely rich (ditto) but just enough of one so i can be weird and people will think its charming, and tortured, and people will think its genius, and so that i no longer have to be at work at 7.30 in the morning.

Back to reality (*SIGH) i had an interesting Friday (who me? I know i was shocked to) Went to the Black Forest with Juj and Ta for Nick's birthday. Was good, still love those girls, and there was much amusement mainly caused by a man with a striking look of a garden gnome who decided that Tarryn would want to listen to his eternal droning (i told her not to tell people she is studying psych!) and at one point actually sang "you don't own me" from The First Wives CLub in an attempt to emphasis the advice he had apparently given to his cousin on dumping his schitsophrenic (spell?) wife. As if it wasn't bad enough listening to him talk to Ta he then tried to chat to me (Good God) i said my name and then ducked off to the loo, where i remained in hiding for so long that i actually committed to memory a marketing passage from the back of a can of toilet spray: "Add and extra dimension of enjoyment to the special times you share with those you love" - are they kidding?! Anyway the charming gnome ended off the evening by telling julia that i had told him (apparently during our brief introduction, immediatly succeeded by said toilet duck [excuse the pun]) that tarryn and i are lesbians who do not wash our hair - lovely all round really! Hmmm...

So saturday was a suprise because Ali came down from PMB which was fab. Had the most lovely chilled out day: went to lunch at a nursery in westville, drove out to Umhlanga and walked along the beach and then had dinner at home and watched Roswell until we were too tired to keep our eyes open. Very good day indeed, and so lovely to see that little Alicat.

Okay well thats all from me

Love and Peace

gypsy

Cubicles and Land Invasions - the topics of friday conversation

Hey there Hayley Fans! You will be glad to know that i finally have a computer of my own which is not powered by a japanese hamster running its ass off on a little wheel inside the box. This is a cause of celebration - but the main thrill is from the fact that i have my own cubicle. I never thought i would be so totally stoked to see those fabric, office green coloured walls of capitalism boxing me in, but i cannot tell you the liberation of being able to scratch your arse in private after the horrors of a totally open plan office :)

SO yes i have my privacy, and am revelling in it. I am also now in a space mainly populated girls now and it is in fact quite enjoyable to have the occasional conversation about handbags and the benefits of stilettos VS wedges. Especially after endless sessions of rating on Hot or Not with the other office boys - and the horror when i burst their bubble by telling them that a lot of the unfortunate looking creatures would never have posted their photos on this website, and certainly are not expecting to be rated Hot. But already a joyful thing as happened - us singletons have rallied around and decided that we will not allow the horrors of valentines day to get us down, but instead will be defiant and book a table just for us girls and get pissed and behave badly, rather than going home and crying into our pillows. And this bit of news was certainly needed as at the moment i am supposed to be designing a valentines flyer (bleuch) for some lovey dovey competition crappola!

Cath told me a story today about how the good old grahamstown municipality came around for half an hour at 11 last nite, with a truck fitted with a loud hailer announcing that the electricity in grahamstown would be off between 6 am and 8 am this morning. Anyway she wakes up with a start and thinks that it is a South African Holocaust and that all white people are being asked to leave their homes - as you do. So in order to feel this paranoid little white girl feel better a told her the following story about even more paranoid white girls... While my mom was off in the UK for 18 months we had tenants that were staying in our house. At some point they had to have trees chopped down - the ppl were supposed to come on a thurs but didn't pitch. on fri morn the one chick wakes up and looks out the window and sees all these black guys with axes and saws. SHe had seen a programme on Zimbabwe land invasions the nite before and so immediatly thinks that it is South African version - yes that is the rational response, land invasions starting in the sleepy residential suburb of westville! honestly! But long live paranoid white girls because they do give us endless amusement.

Love and peace and paranoia
gypsy

My generous bestowals

Have you ever felt possesive over a song? you know like you feel its yours and when other people start liking it and it starts getting radio play you get seriously annoyed... i want to be the person to share the song with people you know, like give the gift to people who really are deserving of it. But no, my guilty pleasure is taken away when it starts being whored on 5 fm (i am going to stop apologising for my constant references, i have nothing else to say) and Mtv. This happened to me with She Moves in Her Own Way by the Kooks. It was sent as one of these beautiful gifts by my best friend via email, with the subject This reminds me of you - surely that makes it MINE! And at first i got the joy of generously bestowing it on the deserving. But alas it has been kidknapped by the mianstream and is no longer mine to give. Its not that i don't want these songs to do well - its just that these underdogs are my little projects and when they start being commercially succesful i fear people forget my contribution and my prior awareness to the cause... Think of me as the Mother Theresa of forlorn songs (although i am sure a saint would probably be more humble about her position as defender of the Faith...nevermind)

oh woe is me
ever the martyr
gypsy

ITS HUMP DAY!!

Now before you all get excited and think i am being diRRRRty (thank you xstina for ruining that word forever) anyone who listens to 5 (honestly i am not really a fan but it just keeps coming up)will know that wednesday is hump day. Hump day because it is in the middle of the week and after the 'hump' its all downhill (in a good way) to the weekend. WOO HOO!

Yeah so the weekend is on its way and what shall i be doing? hmm... jetting off to a film premier? rushing to the front of a line of a new and exciting club (because i am on the list of course)? taking a long romantic walk on the beach with Mr Right? *SIGH* is it obvious i have no plans - its so weird coming back to a place you have lived all your life and knowing no-one. Although the Ali and Carla children may be coming down for the Duzi. Now who in their right mind is going to say no to canoe-er guys (?!) with their shirts wet, or better yet no shirts at all. I mean i am not really that keen on Jock Soc - but lets face it, its fun to look.

Continuing with my critique of valuable television i am going to say that i am an Everwood convert (its reshowing on SABC3 - better late than never right?). Now i realise that it is corny and idealistic and kinda makes you wanna vom a bit with the rural charm of it all but i must say the looney dad who talks to his dead wife, and the (obligatory) moody teen who actually has some quite good put downs for the jocky boys, do make for interesting viewing. Plus Treat Williams is a bit of 'treat' for an old guy.

But its not all TV - i am reading too! Although i seem to have fallen off the intellectual bandwagon - sorry Mr Wilde and Mr Coehlo - what with the availability of my mom's bookclub brain trash. I am reading murder mysteries by the bucketload, mainly for the tips they offer in case my boss askes me to deep etch one more fucking thing :)


Wow this guy that we call the biltong beast is here - he is built like a brick shit house - just muscles galore and he sells biltong. his life consists i am sure of gym and dried pieces of animal.

Lady X who works at The Company has just gotten back and hasn't seen him before and we were all having a bit of a snigger and she snaps at us: "Hes just trying to make a living!" I was like okay, but did no-one ever tell you that insanely shaped, bulgey men carrying half a cow worth of biltong are funny? And honestly, its not like she is Lady sensitivity. She was so insensitive to a guy asking for money for a cornea transplant for his daughter early today, i thought she was going to drop kick the poor fucker out the front door. I mean the bastard showed up with afidavits (spell?) and everything. Grr Arg!

Okay enough with that load of old crappola. Am at the moment staring out the window onto fields hill under iron grey sky - nice weather for ducks

love and peace
gypsy

I'm BACK BABY

I am back - it has been over a year but its time to start posting again! Its not that i haven't had anything to say for the past year, more like a lack of interest. But nothing is a better motivator than boredom and i seem to have a lot of that around here! Not that i am complaining - at least i have a job and am not part of the great unemployed.So here i sit at The Company waiting for something to do and then it hit me like a bolt of lightening...why don't you continue to share your stories of great tedium with the rest of the world (especially the people who like u enough to read this crap)...and so here i am, in the blogosphere! ANd while i have your undivided attention i would like to complain about Parys Hilton - how dare she make music!!! i know its a bit late and this noise pollution has been going on for a while - but i have just come back to the world of mainstream music thanks to our 7.30-4.30 5fm listening session, and realising the true extent of the HORROR! Bloody hell - she is constantly in our face, how dare she be in our ears too. I mean all that synthesised rubbish has got to rot the brain.And as for Beyonce - that "to the left" thing is a severe waste of oxygen - why is this crap getting radio play? if no one played it no one would know about and therefore no one would buy it and then no one would play it - see we just need to stop it at the obvious place in the viscious cycle that is pop music.
So, sadly the highlight of my sad little life appears to be Scrubs - thank god for JD and Turk and of course for Doctor Cox - he is such amusement all over. God what fabulous little speeches he makes - i would love to be able to so firmly put someone in their place. You know like in Amelie when she wishes that there is someone on the sidelines whispering clever comebacks to shyer people. Well i want the scrubs script writers whispering mine (not that i am professing to be a shyer person but how great). but i am loving it, have just finished season 1 and am considering purchasing the season 2 DVDs with my first (REAL) paycheque. woo hoo for being paid!
Okay well off to dinner with the Carin child tonight - she has made lasagne (which was not originally intended for me, in fact i am plan B but we won't hold that against her :) and it will be good to catch up. I am missing all my little RU people. Chris phoned today and he has sold his car (GASP*) and is off to Korea in like a month - ick i feel sick! I am going to miss him very many! I must say i am sorry that he sold his car if only for the reason that it must have meant cleaning and lets face it that Civic was a monument to crap - never again to be seen.
Oh well we must move on.
love and peace to you all
gypsy