2017 - MY PEN TO PAPER KICK-ASS YEAR!

"Keep your head down and finger to the grindstone," they said.
"But I can't see anything with my head down; and won't my finger get hurt if I put it to the grindstone," she said.


"If you want to advance here, then you have to tow the line," they said.
"Towing the line is so not my thing, maybe pulling the line along with my work mates would be far more effective," she said.


"Just do you job and you won't get into any trouble, plus that will guarantee you an increase and possible bonus," they said.
"I can't just do my job, I have to do more.  I'm at my best when pushing the envelope or, better yet, thinking out of the box. Besides, its my creativity, boisterous personality and ravishing mind that are my greatest attributes; constructs you said had such great appeal when first we met," she said
"Anyhoo, I don't live for increases and bonuses; I'm motivated by far more meaningful influences," she continued.


I believe I have a gift, an art if you will - I write! About everything and anything - and it is seemingly well received.  The challenge lies in developing a connection with the audience.  My personal missals are mostly from the heart, a relay of experiences that I feel people can relate to. They provide a sense of deja vu at times; and can even offer comic relief in the otherwise serious existences we seem so intent on leading.


There is power in the pen as I've come to discover. I'm a Communications Officer by trade and, to that end, am often tasked with issuing media releases and crafting speeches on a variety of different topics and elements that informs the environment and communities in which I operate. Whilst agenda setting allows me to direct my audience to receive these communications in an order of preference, I'd rather build a reputation for reporting factually and in a responsible and ethical manner - albeit how harsh that truth may sometimes appear. 


So yes, the PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD...but if left in the wrong hands or galvanised by skewered agendas and minds, the penmanship could prove to be far more devastating and destructive than ever imagined.


Through my writing, my quest for 2017 hence is to become a change agent of sorts, a positive one. To be a constructive conduit of influence in a hopefully meaningful, creative and inspiring way.


Yeah, I think "Kick-Ass" just about sums it up...

Leaving a shitty gravy train...to succeed at failing

I left a relatively (big emphasis on 'relatively') secure government job, to reclaim my soul. You see, I had the option of chugging along on the so-called gravy train until that mythical destination called "early retirement". But, the thing is, I probably would have been certifiably mad by then, or worse still - too broken to put back together.



So, I opted to jump off the lumpy-gravy train and instead hedge my bets on a gut feeling and a place where I felt at peace. And this is where my journey to failure at a rate of great success began:



😜 I failed at settling for anything mediocre
💃I failed at stilling the glorious tune in my heart that had me dancing at odd times, even in the rain
💔 I failed to let a broken heart become a broken soul
📵 I failed at letting electronics take away the joy of face-to-face communication or hand-penned letters sent the good old fashioned post office snail-mail way
👠 I failed at allowing good sense (or a depleted budget) to ruin my fetish for designer shoes (my logic: an outfit is not complete without the right complementary shoes - at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it)
🔥 I failed to dim the fire that guides my light, especially for those intent on dousing it with negativity or to make their own shine bright
🌞🌚 I failed to not feel joy when the sun rose on each new day, or when the moon lit up an ink-blue sky to announce the end of a well spent, purposeful day
☔️ I failed at running for cover when the heavens opened up in its deliverance of messy, wet puddles to splash in with reverence
🍕I failed at counting calories and instead delighted in relishing a slice of decadent plum pie topped with yummy fat-laden double cream
⚾️🏆 I failed at my spirit being crushed by a destructive few when they thought they were bigger than the beautiful game. Rather the game led me to a place where the people are beautiful and the sport even more so - a place where simplicity, yet generosity of spirit is found in abundance; a place where champions are born and dreams realized...



A PLACE WHERE I CAN BE AND JUST GET ON WITH THE BUSINESS OF SUCCEEDING AT FAILURE, A PLACE CALLED HOME!

What makes me sad?

I was brought up in a home where our parents ensured we had a good moral compass with which to guide us through life, and one which would set the way on how we behave and treat others.  We were taught that the common fabric that binds our society is decency.  At least that's what I held true until recently.  I've come to understand that unfortunately there are people out there who are seriously lacking in this core element. That while essentially good people, they have the capacity to do really bad, evil things.  Of late I've been subjected to hate mail on Facebook by a group of people whom I use to consider friends.  I truly don't know what I could ever have done to any of them to have caused them to go to such onerous lengths to discredit me in the worst possible way.  The posts have been disturbing in the extreme in that my character is being castigated at will, and there seems to be a great amount of glee expressed amongst those concerned at the pain they are knowingly causing.  Bearing in mind that this is an international public online site, and all who know the people involved and know me will have a clear understanding that it is me being referred to.  Of more concern to me is that these postings are being seen by my children who are hurt by the way their mother is being portrayed.  My daughter summed it up best when she said, "I really wouldn't want their kids to feel what we are right now.  I feel for you mom, as I know that you would never intentionally put anyone through what we as a family are going through at the moment. It is so hurtful to see what they are doing to you." And this is it, we are feeling this as a family.  After all when one family member is hurt, it affects the rest. As a parent, I have always striven to shield my children from harm.  This situation I unfortunately don't have any control over and that pains me.  I  wonder if those responsible are able to rest well at night. I question if there is not even a smidgeon of doubt that their behaviour and comments could be wrong, that they don't perhaps have even an iota of guilt or shame.  But then I am not God and I certainly do not stand in judgement of my fellow man, even when I have been wronged how badly by same.  I can only say that I would not do to others that I would not have done to me.  Then again, I would not do to them what they have done to me, even after all that has been thrust my way.  For I have only pity for these horribly disturbed and depraved people.  I can only pray that God affords me and my family a blanket of protection and that we may be kept from any further wrongdoing.

My Christmas Story...

My childhood was filled with very many special Christmas tales and experiences, but the run up to Christmas and the tree decorating with my dad on Christmas Eve will always resonate joy and wonder. 

Now it should be noted that not just any tree would do, and certainly not just any Christmas decs would adorn it.  No, it had to be a carefully chosen REAL pine tree.  To quote my dad, "Oh my fock - that plastic shit that the Chinese sell, that's just rubbish - that's for Chinks"! (Okay, he was known for his rather colourful, not always PC statements). Oh no, the only tree would be THE one that only he would know once spotted.  This after driving for several hours and many km's later from one road-side supplier to the next.  And about when my mom had reached the stage of absolute exasperation at "Wally wasting my damn time when I have all the cooking to do for lunch tomorrow!" - which by the way would be served with military precision at on the dot 12pm!!!!

Then there was the carting home of THE tree, half hanging out of the famous maroon 66 Valient that was so well known to all in Cape Town (which for many years was my constant source of embarassment). And of course the dramatic offloading of the tree with pine needles and kernels leaving a trail in its wake before finally finding its place of prominence in the nook in the lounge.

Then...wait for this...the unearthing of THE Christmas decs from its storage place in the ceiling.  Now these were decs that my dad had gathered in his travels around the world and were an absolute source of pride.  These decs were never replaced, NEVER.  Hell no, that would have been paramount to committing a cardinal sin in my dad's eyes.  For they all had a special story to tell.  And tell them he did!

The greatest fun was in putting up the stuffed little birds that had long lost their plumage, the special little Santa's and candy sticks, the right amount of silver and gold bells (okay they were tarnished way beyond being classified as either silver or gold) the little red apples, and then of course the tinsel that had to be angled just right for THAT effect. And then...oh this was the absolute best part...the kapok. Until his very last year that's what the little cottonwool-like snowballs were called by dear old Wally. 

And people wonder why I have this thing for Christmas?  Well its that one special part of my dad that I will always, always hold dear!  My dad and Christmas are synonymous!  He is My Christmas Story and always will be. 

So as Christmas Day draws closer, I'd like to take this moment to salute my Dad...Mr God, give that man a Bells on the 25th!!!

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer" - Albert Camus

If ever there was a year where I have discovered the true meaning of this quote, then 2011 was certainly it!

I've blogged at great length before of the many trials and tribulations faced during my annus horribilis, and just to make quite sure I don't go into withdrawal a few more have been flung my way.  For good measure I'm sure. Just in case..., okay you get the picture. LOL.

So, understandably I am looking foward to ringing in 2012 on a higher (read lekker dronk) note. In putting the shit that's gone down exactly where it belongs and then celebrating the good (despite everything there has been lots of that), which after the countless glasses of champers I intend drinking on New Year's eve I'm sure will be a pile high. Okay maybe I'll be a pile high, but again - you get my meaning!!

Crossing the finish line...

That's it.  80 blogs - I DID IT!!!!

It seemed like such an insurmountable task when we were first given that daunting target of 80 blogs to be completed by the end of the scholastic year.  My inital reaction was - is Marian blady crazy?! I mean, come on - when were we supposed to have a life? Oh, how I lamented my fate back then.

But the more I blogged, the more I found myself actually enjoying it. Where else would I have found such a captive audience (tongue-in-cheek) willing to be party to my many rants, tales of wisdom or offerings of wicked humour.  Blogging has provided me with a cathartic platform to lay to rest those ghosts of past that have haunted me for way longer that they should have. 

And here I am, slightly muddied and soiled by the whole experience but all the better for having done it. Mud has a surprisingly refreshing quality to it. A somewhat cooling effect - and after this arduous and taxing marathon , it's exactly what I need.

Open book test...

I thought I'd try my luck with a certain lecturer with the hope that he'd allow us to do an open book test for an upcoming exam.  Well, he kinda blew me out of the water on that one.  But what the hell, it was worth a try.

I rather like the idea of the 'take home' test another lecturer allowed us recently.  Now that was pure genius. For one whose life has become such a train wreck that really worked for me.

So I guess I'd better pull that proverbial finger out of my butt and get on with reading up on those notes if I don't want to fall completely flat on my face on Wednesday evening.

Then it's just that last assignment that's due on Monday...groan!!!!!