December 2004 Archives

Of what to blog about, but since working at the bank my mind seems to be a slush of cash deposits, spinning notes, and paper-paper-paper work.

However, all is not lost, as I shall entertain you with photies of late.

The time for visa application is drawing closer, and right now EVERYTHING is about Londonium.

Okay, so some of it is about relaxing, clearly. Kaylee and I drove Charles and Put around the course while they played on Monday. Pezula has grown massively.

I got my degree. Or as Rhodes put it, 'BJRN OBTAINED'.

Chuffed :)

And the town stood still. ABSA is in the Main street, but on a higher level than most areas, and so the only real problem was the water than collected in the roof and streamed down one of the inner security cameras - R25 000 later, it's working again. Every business in town is being visited for insurance today. My dad took his own pics which I will share in due course - I came to blog straight from work so as to avoid the 'alone with my aunt' time in the afternoons before my folks return home.

No, things with her have not improved. For those of you who don't know, I LOVE my mother. She is AWESOME. So I like to sit and talk with her after work, and for the last 3 weeks I have commanded her attention. Not so anymore. The AA has added a number of new annoying habits to her list, including bitching about how much weight she's gained since quitting smoking and constantly asking 'What's that?' or 'What's this about?' or 'Who's that?' while I talk to my mom.
To be frank, anything the AA does now will annoy me, nothing is beyond annoying me if it comes from her. So when she changes the channel I want to scream, and when I try to talk to my mother and she butts in, I want to throttle her. Yes Vaughan, it's the EC aunt, she's actually from Slummies, and the fact that she brings her howler along is, infac,t the only redeeming trait. I know I'm complaining a lot about this woman, but you must understand: between working a crap job that adds nothing to my qualification, I have to return home to the most annoying person in my life right now. I have no quality of life, because should I magically coincide my working schedule with those of my friends' in order to go out, I usually end up partying a little too hard, which results in an enormous hangover at work. Effing catch-22, that's what this is. My work life, shitty as it is, is better than my home life right now, dammit. And Vornographer, I DO want my Ouma to come to the Kernaaisna, but they're only hitting us after New Years. If I can bear the jaw sounds that long, it'll be a miracle.

So yes yes, bitch and moan. The ABSA thing is okay at the moment, I'm appreciating the good bits of the job (hmm, money, yes) and the people I work with are generally very nice. Customers are always dodge. My Afrikaans - even dodgier.

Who I hope hope hope never reads this post.

AA arrives. Things seem okay, as strained as they always are - we've never got on. I know it, she knows it, we've never spoken about it. She always tries hard, but in the wrong type of way. I don't know what the right type of way might be, but the stuff she does definitely falls into the con column.

For example, the night she arrives, I am watching Leno and Conan in my room, she hears this, and proceeds to come into my room and actually GET INTO MY BED WITH ME to watch. Couple this with her wheezing induced by a lifelong addiction to cigarettes, and her spastic toe which I can't see at this time but I KNOW is under my duvet and could touch my foot at any given time. That toe is HIDEOUS.

I can hear her chew her food. Not the actual food, nor her teeth, but her JAW which must have some cartilage floating SOMEWHERE because it crackles at every chew.

But the worst con... she is extremely argumentative. Last night, while drinking far too much for a work night, a dude I also CANNOT HANDLE came and sat at our table and disagreed with me.
Now I'm all for a little argumentative discussion but this ASS and my AUNT share a common way of thinking that grates this girl's carrot. It's quite possibly a character flaw on my part, but I feel it doesn't make for enjoyable conversation when the person you're talking to sees everything you say as an opportunity to jump in, tell you you're wrong, and go on to explain why you have a weak brain and they are ace at everything.

So she's here, and here to stay, until a while after New Years, methinks. Now that my room can't even function as a safe haven, I'm pretty screwed.

Grasias to everyone who left such sweet (and oft scary) comments this last week. Damn, it's good to know that you peeps still read this site, even though it's pretty lacking in YE OLDE UPDATAGE (check out the Knysna lingo!)

I can't help but be uber UBER jealous of Janine from Cape Town (I don't think it's that one, guys!) who won the MGD mansion competition on 5fm - dude, she's already from CT, you'd think that would automatically disqualify you! Bet she didn't have to look up CRAP to find the sms clues... still, good for her, she won fair and square.

Still, uber jealous.

So it's off to George with the parentals, for some quality tile shopping (?) and not working, thanks to today being the day of reconciliation.

Still waiting for my results, pretty anxious. The printing balance from the final portfolio days was surprisingly low, shocking even my parents.

Time to sit in the back of the car and take in the coastline.

Things are looking up! Knysna is so hot right now, and I'm actually enjoying working at ABSA again. It's a bit day in, day out, same crap different day, but I guess that's what bank work is.

Of course, the fact that I cashed 4 fraudulent cheques last week to the total value of R15 000 is a bit of a problem, but luckily 4 other more experienced tellers also did. Let's just say, cashing a cheque at the Knysna ABSA branch now takes about 20 minutes while we cover all bases about a million times. Excuse the before haircut picture, but it was mid portfolio time and I'm trying not to look stressed. The after picture is plainly after such time, as suggested by peach champagne in camping cup.

Ah yes, the icing on the cake wold be my R350 speeding fine from the trip home. Damn you, old fogey Plett types! Isn't there a site where you can find the photo of your law-breaking? They probably only charged me that much because I looked like I really needed to get home that day. I'm probably caught singing along to Franz Ferdinand.

I'm settling in a bit better here now, and have made all sorts of sushi plans with girls I might have written off as potentially bad friends before my Truro experience this year. I'm left hopeful, and as a few beach trips and nights out would suggest, said girls might be total good friend material.

I do still stick with my boys though.

Home.

It's ok. I've fought with my dad almost every day, went almost straight from studying to working again, and had to leave a place I love with people I love being with to a place I feel I barely know anymore with people I don't recognise. Charles is my saving grace here, I love the man, but he's moved on a lot too. Why didn't I register for another year? I miss Rhodes. My room isn't even unpacked, a week in. I think it's my hands, unwilling to try and find places for the things that had such definite places back there.

I saw my German for the last time this weekend, and think I must have given her some sort of skin irritation from all the hugging. I already miss her so much, whenever I used to have to do something logical like calculate milliletres or remember dates I would just leave it up to her. What, I have to think for myself? Psssh.

Thinking about the UK has me excited and worried. All of the admin is the scary stuff, plus there's the whole four year build up to being with Ian again. I guess I can speculate all I want but I'll only ever know when I'm there.

In the meantime I'm going to try and spend the next two and a half months in this halfway house between studentdom and grownupness, and make a life here. I'm sure there's more here, I just have to stop expecting to see Rhodes faces in a Knysna nightclub and have to stop getting all excited when I see a CX plate. Yes, they're from Knysna. So are you, dufus. Get used to it.