Inspiration is a bitch to find. So are my pants.
As we grow up we are taught certain lessons: don’t run with scissors, sand is not food, chocolate is not good for dogs (thanks Oreo) and life doesn’t always work out the way you would like it to.
Making a decision based on another person’s happiness and thereby sacrificing your own happiness and the things you want in life is not a walk in the park. I have to make one of these choices now.
I have someone I care intensely, deeply for. Someone who anchors me down when I am with him and makes me all teenager-y just by hearing his stupid sexy voice. I know we would be fireworks together but this can’t happen. He was put on this Earth by an asshole Higher Entity to torture me, to teach me a valuable life lesson, but nevertheless, torture me. Thanks a mil’ Higher Entity, I hope you step on a Lego… barefoot.
In a time like this logic tells me to walk, nay, RUN away and save myself. My gut instinct has never failed me to this day, even though sometimes it’s not exactly clear from the get-go, and my gut and my logic are at war at this point. My gut is telling me to stay firmly by his side, help him through these rough times and be his person.
The person that listens, the person that hugs, the person that makes him laugh, the person that never leaves, the person that tells stupid jokes, the person that says words that translate into good feelings, the person that believes, the person that trusts, the person that wants him, not just needs him. The person that anchors him as much as he anchors me.
Whether he likes to admit it or not we need each other to patch each others’ wounds up.
It absolutely, truly, deeply SUCKS BALLS to accept the fact that the day I would be able to call him my own will most probably never see the light of day but if it means that his days are a smidge bit better just for me being in them then yes, it’s worth the pain and frustration. My day is simply better just by knowing he is smiling.
Life is going to throw you curve balls and sometimes big bags of dung just for the fucking hell of it. Karma will repay me in kind one day, right? RIGHT?!
I am on holiday. My week is one long weekend. Everyday is a Sunday. Happy Sunday!!!
I am not great at giving advice, my go-to response is typically a “Meh, fuck it”. I am even worse at following advice. I am what Urban Dictionary defines as an “askhole”,
A person who repeatedly asks for advice from multiple individuals, only to ignore aforementioned advice completely. The askhole will choose the least logical option (usually their own), skipping merrily down the path into unbridled oblivion, blissfully and willingly oblivious throughout the entire ordeal.
We can conclude that an “askhole” is a gaping, cavernous pit of stupidity, into which good, sound counsel is thrown and subsequently lost forever.
Josh: So, Liz asked me for some advice about her boyfriend the other day. She said when she’s with him she doesn’t feel any sort of emotion… they’re just kind of existing together.
Corey: So what did you tell her?
Josh: I told her if she doesn’t get anything out of the relationship she should end it.
Josh: And they’re getting married next month.
Corey: What an askhole.
by white_knight February 23, 2013
I have found myself in quite a sticky wicket today. As all bad life decisions start out, it begins with a glorious hunk of a man I can never ever have but want desperately like a chocolate addict on a cardboard box diet. I should not and cannot be falling for this guy for reasons I will answer with a blase “No comment”. Let’s call him Nectarine.
I have been crazy about this wonderful weirdo for ages now, and once upon a time he used to be in my life daily. His job has taken him elsewhere and I spent a day crying over the fact I would not see that lopsided grin anymore, I knew we would never talk or see each other again, and then I spent a month trying to forget him, and succeeded for a little while.
I get the message every girl dreads getting from someone she is trying to erase:
“Heya. How you doing?”
I just spent the entire (ENTIRE) day chatting to him and catching up and smiling like a complete loonytard at every stupid, gloriously funny message he sent.
We are having drinks tomorrow night. Let me repeat.. NO GO ZONE.
Why do I do this when everyone has tried to warn me against it? Why would I put myself through this only to 100% certainly end up having to put myself back together again?
Because the pain is worth it. I know that tomorrow night I will be sitting there making jokes only we understand and I will be laughing from the belly and having the time of my life and for that reason, THAT REASON, I am going.
I have accepted the fact that we can never be together, I have accepted that I will only see him on random occasions, I have accepted that it will hurt a fuck ton when reality hits. But I want that moment with him more than I want to breathe. I want my fix. I want my moment I can look back on when I am feeling all single and eat-a-whole-tub-of-ice-cream-y and I need to remind myself of the type of man that deserves my wild heart.
Maybe I am wrong, maybe the pain won’t be worth it, maybe it will.
Heads I go, tails I stay.
My coin has landed and I am going to run with it and conquer any mountains that stand in my way when I get to them.
Heads I go, tails I stay.
I have a serious cold.
I also was born with a serious case of FOMO*
These two do not mix well. I want to leave the house and do things and see things. I am stuck in bed.
I’m going to go do and see things anyway. Just because I am sick doesn’t mean I have to act sick right?
I tell this lie to myself as I am finding shoes and heading out into the big world.
*Fear Of Missing Out
I want to be the type of girl who knows what she wants and where she is going. I want to have purpose and drive and passion and UMPH. I want to walk down the street to kick ass background music and everyone turns my way like in adverts when the girl puts on the branded deodrant and suddenly she exudes all the confidence of a seasoned rockstar.
The only time I feel like I have purpose is when I write. For instance, when I sat down I had no cooking clue where I was going with this post. But when I started typing the thoughts in my head settled down into a concrete formation, with form and shape and life breathing out of every pore.
I can taste the idea.
I wish I could translate this into my everyday activities, even start brushing my teeth with purpose and drive. Imagine how little cavities I would not have, ever, and I could smile (with my gorgeous pearly whites) and wave at the masochistic dentist. You Scrooge.
Real UMPH speaks from the soul and you can see it hanging heavy on a person. You can never really know how beautiful you are just by looking in a mirror. You can memorise every feature, freckle and scar and still never know what you truly look like when your eyes light up when you speak of something that gives you purpose. The life in someone’s face amplifies by a million degrees and it surrounds you like a pulsing electric current.
I cannot rely on using this electric current from other people to charge my own batteries anymore. I am a passion whore. Besides for writing, in all other instances of my life I find I feed off other peoples energy. I need to dig deep and find that energy within myself and charge my own damn batteries for once. For fucks sake Kerri, pull it together.
I have the electric current inside me. I will take this feeling of elation and joy and UMPH that I feel writing this and well….. those pearly whites ain’t never gonna be brighter.
Oh, and I suppose a few world’s will be conquered along the way.
I started to plan out my resolutions and afterwards I sat back in wonder and amazement and realised something.
I am growing up, my dahlings! When the fuck did that happen? MOMMY YOU WOULD BE SO PROUD!!
Gone are the resolutions of the past like:
- Ride a hot air balloon which has a neon pink sail-balloon-fabric thing
- Wear more g-strings
- Paint my nails on my right hand perfectly first time
- Meet the love of my life
- …. and so on and so forth. You get it.
THESE are my resolutions for 2015:
- Save, save, save, save, SAVE ALL THE MONEY!!!!!
- Work my tushie off and achieve Admin Employee of the Year at the end of 2015. Actually, fuck it, achieve EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR in 2015.
- Start my Zumba classes again and SAVE (see point one) and get my instructors qualifications. In the meantime practice looking sexy even while sweaty.
- Start a sport.
- Make more time for family.
- Pay off credit card and promptly cut it into tiny pieces.
- Create a custom domain name for “Confused Pumpkin” and take over the world.
- Start “Tea & Joints”(a blog I will be co-writing with Nancy). It will be epic, you will laugh your face off and cry your eyes out at the same time. Watch this space.
- Save, save, save, save, save, save.
- Take out a retirement… thingy.
- Write a will… should I be doing that yet?
- Celebrate my 24th birthday doing something out of my comfort zone.
- Visit Cape Town, everyone I meet says I would be right at home there and I just smile and wave because I have no idea because I have never been there.
- Explore my beautiful home, Johannesburg (affectionately, Jozi), South Africa. I live in an epic city packed with a million flavours and I want to try them all.
- Save, save, save, save, save, save, save.
- KICK ALL TYPES OF ASS THIS YEAR! This year will be my coming out moment!
Okay, so I did not achieve a growing-up jump of 16 to 43, but it’s a start. I am convinced I will wear adulthood with all sorts of style.
Although I am keeping this on the list, because dammit:
- Paint my nails on my right hand perfectly for the first time.
Cheers to a gorgeous, wild, emotional, powerful and sexy 2015!
I am a single Momma Bear who needs a bit of me-time and am packing up for a holiday full of sun, cosmopolitans and sexy Papa Bears for a week. I need someone to look after my two troublemakers while I am away. Nancy is on the left and Cat is on the right. These cubs mean the world to me and I am very worried about being away from them.
Care instructions for Nancy:
- Make sure she takes her vitamins daily!
- When cranky just give her a cup of coffee, three sugars and milk.
- Go to the Sexy Shack 2.0 (her flat) and stare at the twinkle lights she has hung in the trees, she likes that shit.
- Talk with and motivate her daily.
- Tell her she is smart, independant and beautiful because she forgets to tell herself.
- Remind her how gorgeous life can be everytime she doubts herself and her decisions.
- Don’t tell her Frenchie (the recent ex) is an asshole, c*&t or fuckface and that he deserves no love. She does love him no matter what they have been through and cares about him enough to defend him, DO NOT RUIN THIS BEAUTIFUL PART OF HER ESSENCE. Tell her that they are not meant to end up together instead.
- Eat waffles on Sundays with her.
- BE THERE at all times. Answer that 3am phone call and tell her she can come over to rant, cry, dance or laugh with you anytime she wants.
- Support her no matter what!
Care instructions for Cat:
- When she has a bad day try not to smile when she is all shouty and stompy. She gets funny and you will want to laugh but she wants to be taken seriously.
- Let her gush about Skinny Gene (the boyfriend), she is in love for the very first time and can’t help it…
- … but also bring her back down to Earth from time to time
- Make sure she is eating! That girl can live on tea and toast if left to her own devices but she needs a proper meal before bed.
- Make sure she paints. She keeps her emotions in and forgets to let them out. Painting helps her release all that yuk.
- Tea is key. Strong with two sugars and lots of milk.
- She likes to talk. Alot. Sit up with her and natter until 4am if she wants to.
- Remind her daily she is on the right track, to let go and that only good things lie ahead.
- Support her no matter what!
If you are interested in applying please snail mail your applications to:
The Sexy Shack
21 Wonderland Lane
I have this theory.
I have blogged about the importance of feeling everything, even pain, epically in order to heal ourselves from the inside out in Everyday we shufflin’. In A Peaceful Mind I spoke about never chasing down your happiness, it is as simple as choosing to be happy, fake it ’til you make it, baby!
I am going to try use as much finesse as I possibly have to try put these theories together in beautiful articulation but if I come across as a preschooler trying to learn her two plus two’s I do apologise in advance, tell me if you get it ok?
Everyone is chasing a greener pasture, somewhere where everyone we meet loves us, there is no heartbreak, money is never scarce and rivers of choc-mint ice-cream flow deliciously (obviously our weight and body size mean nothing in this world, we are all beautiful specimens of the human race, cellulite is ALWAYS trending). We are all united in this common goal to reach Nirvana where happiness is the commodity and peace is passed around like Skittles at a 4 year old’s birthday party.
From time to time I imagine myself in this place, it feels great but… something has always unsettled me about it. In that type of world I am not the girl sitting here writing this to you now, in fact, I have nothing to write about. Poetry, songs, scribbled notes to yourself, all stem from some sort of negative emotion, even the ones about happiness and love are felt more intensely because how are we meant to feel the high’s if we have never experienced the lows? What is happiness without pain? How do you truly know you are happy if you have no pain to measure it against?
I am vetoing the phrase “negative emotions” for the rest of this post and replacing it with “driving forces”. If there was no greed and arrogance in this world would we, as the human race, be as advanced as we are today? If Ugg the Cave-Man hadn’t of seen Oog the Cave-Man’s invention of the wheel and not been arrogant enough to be better and invent something better than Ugg we would not have evolved and how would I have written down all my random thoughts for all the interwebs to see? I would be sitting here defending myself from sabertooth tigers with a rock and a twig. The driving force of heartbreak alone has inspired the most incredible works of art throughout time. My decision to start a blog rested on a heartbreak! And look at me all healed and living and shit today because of it 🙂 .
We chase a place we call home, the place of stars and abundance and picnics of breakfast-for-dinner, but when we get there we are guaranteed to feel homeless. There is no driving forces there to anchor us to the human spirit. To feel is to be human. It grounds us, it helps us grow and better ourselves and motivate ourselves to constantly move forward. I feel every moment of bliss with such an intensity because of the hardships I have encountered along the way.
If I had not had my miscarriage, if I had not lost my Dad to cancer 4 years ago, if I had not seen the effects of alcoholism on my family first hand, if I had not gotten my heart broken by all those beautiful men, I would not be this girl.
And I am pretty damn proud of this girl.
My strength, my free-spirit, my back-bone, and my loyalty are all built on driving forces and I would never (EVER EVER EVER) change a single thing if I could.
Do not blame your past or live in it hoping for better days to come. MAKE THEM HAPPEN NOW. Take your pain, anger and greed and channel it into something good. Go get that promotion at your job or work up the nerve to introduce yourself to that cutie at work.
This is Nirvana, my lovelies, it’s just what you make of it is all. Appreciate the fuck out of your human experience. Every stinking second of it.
“Black Star Elephant
Now you are here
Don’t look outside yourself
You have everything
You have everything inside there
Trust, have faith and be free
My son, use the knowledge
And sing your song”
– [Arrival] off of Nico & Vinz’s album Black Star Elephant
Blew. My. Mind.
I. Was. Like. Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!