Weird-Ass Wednesday

Refusing to put the light on because I didn’t want to be alert enough not to be able to resume the glorious slumber I had been enjoying before, I stumbled to the bathroom to well, expel the demon was causing the stomach cramps that had awoken me. Muttering to myself about the wee hours of a Wednesday morning being a crap time for a bowel movement. I heard a kind of scratchy sound, which I attributed to my medication not being completely absorbed into my system.

Toothy Tears

A while ago I wrote about knowing your emotional triggers. But, what happens when something you used to love, turns out to be a trigger? This is what happened to me earlier this week, which took me by quite a surprise. The Bean and I were watching an Elvis Presley tribute show and every song stirred sadness within me, even Burning Love which used to be one of my ultimate feel good songs. Bring on the love songs and well, I was close to bawling like a child whose favourite tricycle had been chopped up for firewood.

It didn’t stop there. Night before last I was under the covers watching Covert Affairs for the millionth time and Annie and Auggie finally kissed, the tears were running rivers down my cheeks.

Knowing that tears are cathartic, I decided to up the ante so I watched the episodes of Bones where Mr. Nigel-Murray and Sweets die, followed by the last episode of Elementary. The latter series holds special meaning for me. The tears though felt less sentimental, but more heartfelt.

I found myself thinking What the hell is wrong with you, Woman? And then it hit me. I’ve had toothache since the day before Elvis’s crooning.

Now, I am not a lover of the dentist. At. All. So for me to go, out of my own, on a Friday during my holiday and sitting five hours at the local Walk-In dentist and not being helped and then having to leave because of another appointment, and then finding another dentist on a Saturday, must tell you the amount of pain I was in. Turns out that it’s not my tooth at all, well technically not. More than a decade ago, my wisdom teeth were extracted, in the dentist’s chair (I think childbirth must be as painful) and one’s root broke off, staying behind in my jaw. I’ve not had trouble with it. Until now.

The dentist (who has the most beautiful blue eyes) took an x-ray and it turns out that the jaw bone on the one side has healed perfectly, but not on the other (where the problem is). He explained to me in terms I could understand what the issue is and sent me off with a prescription for antibiotics, so large they resemble suppositories.

He gave me strict instructions that if I was not feeling relief by today, I was to come back, so he could cut into my gum, check inside and sew me up again. I thought, hell no, there is no way I am having someone choppity-chop my gums and then sew me up again. What is the stitches hurt more than the cut? What if lips swelled, making me look like a badly botoxed celebrity? Would I have to get anesthetic? Because that in its own right poses its own challenges – I come out extremely unpleasant. So, instead I smiled (well kind of), telling him I would return if I was still swollen or if brushing my teeth felt torturous. Thank the Pope I woke up this morning feeling a lot better, and looking less like a mumpy chipmunk.

I even have colour in my cheeks again 🙂

I have a notion that the antibiotics may be playing havoc with my stay-sane meds and that may be why I’m feeling all teary-eyed like an overly-hormonal-pregnant-rabid-dog. I only have three more days left to drink them, so after that I’ll test my Suspicious Mind by getting caught in a trap with all the characters that have made me cry this week. I like to think that what I’ve experienced is a false trigger (if such a thing exists). After all, who doesn’t love The King of Rock ‘n Roll? Or Holmes and Watson being two people that love each other?

Or Piper Perabo kissing a shirtless Christopher Gorham?

‘Til next year!

Wishing all my readers, and followers a great end to 2019, the best start to 2020. Here’s believing it will be one to remember – for all the right reasons.

Cheers!

Bushtracks Express Dinner Experience

Trains are in my blood.  My maternal grandfather worked for the South African Railways all his life, and The Toppie started out his career as a steam locomotive stoker.  When we were still living in Johannesburg, I caught the train from Park Station to Doornfontein to attend school and back again every day for four years, before we left to come and live at the coast.

When I saw that there was a dinner experience on a steam train at Victoria Falls, I was like, Shut up and take my money!  The train only runs twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, and booking is essential.

The Bushtracks Express boards at the beautiful Victoria Falls Station, a stone-throw from the legendary Victoria Falls Hotel.  It was the first hotel built in the village and is known to the locals as The Grand Old Dame.

While waiting on the platform there was a gentleman playing the saxophone.  When he did a Satchmo number, I shed a few tears, because in that moment I thought about The Toppie, and how he and The Bean would have loved to have experienced this.

The train chugged into the station with a familiar toot-toot.  While waiting to be checked-in (which was a quick process handled efficiently), passengers enjoyed cocktails on the platform before boarding the luxurious coach for its destination:  The Victoria Falls Bridge, where guests could disembark, purchase souvenirs from the vendors, take photos of the sunset, and even get into the drivers’ seat for some photos.

I opted to sit at the rear of the train, on the balcony, hoping for some reprieve from the heat.  The train manager, Tulani introduced himself and shared some history about the railway line; Cecil John Rhodes envisioned a railway from Cape Town to Cairo, but unfortunately the line ends in Dar es Salaam in Tanzania.

Prince and Melinda, two local celebrities provided the entertainment, filling the air with both local- and international songs.

The food provided on the excursion is of the finger-variety, beginning with simple snacks like peanuts and dried figs, progressing to canapés of seeded crackers with hummus and guacamole, to goat’s cheese and salmon, to other savoury treats so delicious I gobbled them up before taking a picture (#facepalm) and the perfect dessert to round the evening off.  Drinks are included in the fare paid for the trip.

Before the train comes to a stop on The Victoria Falls Bridge, it makes a short stop at the hydro-electric power station, where Tulani shared some interesting information.

The stop on the Victoria Falls Bridge lasted about 45 minutes, which was more than enough time to purchase souvenirs, take photos and drink in the sunset, while listening to thunder in the distance, and seeing the occasional strike of lightning.  I was even fortunate enough to sit in the cab, and make the train toot-toot myself (and I made sure I did it good and proper, but the video clip I have is too large to share on my blog).

The ride back to the station was a bit more jovial. (A few drinks will do that to you!)  Passengers joined Prince and Melinda in song, and some danced.  Tulani even grabbed me for a few twirls, which I found very sweet.

There are many benefits to solo travel, but moments like that are when one misses having someone to share the fun with.

As we slowly re-entered the station to the synonymous na-na-na-na-na-na of Hey Jude there were cheers of “one more song!” which were heard, and we all joined in to pata-pata for one last time.

I left that station with a full tummy, a happy heart and the coolness of the first raindrops on my face.

What a memorable excursion it turned out to be – the first of many during my visit to Victoria Falls, in fact.

 

 

The Answers…

For those of you who did play the game in my previous post, here are the answers.  How many of you noticed the line in the Title of the post?  I’ll be blogging at my local spot again tomorrow evening 😀

I see trees of green	What a Wonderful World, Louis Armstrong
In the last moments of the dawn	In the Last Moments of the Dawn, Chris de Burgh
Jambalaya, crawfish pie, fillet gumbo	Jambalaya / On the Bayou, Hank Williams
Jack & Diane	Jack & Diane, John Mellencamp
Strutting into town like he (was) slingin’ a gun	Jesse James, Cher
Making love to his tonic and gin	Piano Man, Billy Joel
Like the deep blue sea, on a blue, blue day	Blue Eyes, Elton John
Life is bigger, bigger than you	Losing my Religion, REM
The world over the rim of his teacup	Streets of London, Ralph Mc Tell
She’s gonna get you from behind	Devil Woman, Cliff Richard
Jesus loves you more than you will know	Mrs. Robinson, Simon & Garfunkle
A gamblin’ man	House of the Rising Sun, The Animals
She was brushing her cat in (the) black limousine	Dark Lady, Cher
Find which side (his) future lies	Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John
When the time is right, I’ll cross the street	(I belive in) Angels, Abba
Put a gun against his head	Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen
Drug dealer on speed dial	Rockstar, Nickelback
Lying on the floor where you left (her)	Just like a Pill, Pink
It’s a quarter after one	Need You Now, Lady Antebellum
You can check in any time, but you can never leave	Hotel California, The Eagles
I’ve got a feeling	I’ve got a feelin’, Black Eyed Peas
End of Lonely Street	Heartbreak Hotel, Elvis Presley

I See Trees of Green, and a Mystery too…

I was chatting with Yasmin and her friend, Bella a couple of days ago about a writing workshop they attended. One of the exercises they had to do was write an entire story without using the letter “E”. It sounded easy enough, but turns out, I need my “E”. I managed to string three sentences together:

I am going to Bali to drink martinis, tan and find a hot man; a man with brown hair, a round bottom and strong hands. I will kiss him on his full mouth.

When I think about it, the Fifty Shades books made millions, despite EL James’s writing style, so maybe the few lines above are the key to hitting it big on the NY Bestseller’s List. Probably not, but hey, a Misfit can dream, right? Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked there; I was imagining that hot man’s strong hands… massaging my… back…and his warm panting…and let’s leave it there, shall we?

Back to the task at hand. The no- “E” challenge shifted my brain into an inventive space. I got to thinking How can I challenge myself and my blog followers with a creative exercise? I decided to compose a story using snippet lyrics from various songs, quite a few in fact.

I’ll post the answers in a separate post sometime next week. Drop me a comment with only the number of lyrics you recognized, not the song titles. And don’t use Google! I’ll know. Trust me. I have some wicked mind-reading powers. Like right now, I’ll bet at least one of you is thinking yeah, right! And not a single on one of you is thinking Maybe she’s the Last Jedi. I’m right, aren’t I? Of course I am.

BLACK MAGIC WOMEN

In the last moments of the dawn all that was left to eat was jambaylaya, crawfish pie, fillet gumbo, so the triplets, Susan, Jack and Diane continued their search on empty stomachs.

At the edge of the Quarter, they saw a stranger strutting into town like he(was) slinging a gun. The man was unfamiliar to them, but somehow reminded them Pete, who was known for making love to his tonic and gin. The threesome approached the man, immediately mesmerized by his gaze, like the deep blue sea, on a blue, blue day.

“Sit,” he told them gently. “Let me tell you something important. Something you must never forget. Life is bigger, bigger than you.” He continued his story while brewing a pot of tea on a portable stove, surveying the world over the rim of his teacup. “Children, be careful, she’s gonna get you from behind! Keep your eyes open all the time.” Moments later he was gone; vanished without a trace.

They’d been born in Palm Beach but had grown up in The Big Easy. They knew all about Voodoo and respected those that practiced the religion, but Mother forbade them to dabble. She was a God-fearing woman, “You don’t need that, Jesus loves you more than you will know.” And they were Mom-fearing kids. They’d seen what happened to their Papa; he was a gambling man.

The well-known town-car stopped next them. “Get in,” she told them. “Quickly! Before anyone sees you.” She was brushing her cat in (the) black limousine. Jack had had a bad feeling about this adventure, but his sisters had convinced him that Darius would find which side his future lies if Jack remained at their side. He’d reluctantly agreed, despite feeling nothing good would come of this.

“My insides are shaking,” Jack whispered to Diane. “You know me, when I know the time is right for me, I’ll cross the street, but right now, I really wish I’d stayed on the sidewalk.”

“Stop being such a baby, Bro. It’s not like we’re going to put a gun against his head. Jasaria is just going to help us; convince him that he better get that drug dealer on speed dial to cough up the truth about the E. What if we hadn’t found Susan lying on the floor where you left (her)? She could have died!” Looking at Jasaria she said, “It’s time, it’s a quarter after one.”

“Indeed, it is,” the mysterious Jasaria replied. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? Remember what I told you, you can check in any time you like, but you can never leave.”

And that dear readers is all for now… I’ve gotta a feeling that this story is going somewhere, and it’s not the end of Lonely Street.

I’m looking forward to reading the comments. Hope you had fun reading (and playing!)

Not Even Death can Kill a Forever Love

I’m in a philosophical mood, a little melancholy too.  Chalk it down to conversations I’ve been having-, or the books I’ve been reading of late, being a little tired again, the chill of winter, or simply because my brain needs something to think about.

I saw Harriet on Friday after work.  We spoke about a few things and somehow Paul came up.  I haven’t spoken about him in a very long time, literally years.  It was bittersweet to reminisce about the memories I had made with him. I still listen to Leonard Cohen’s music, Hallelujah in particular, and a memory will escape from my eyes down my cheek.  I know we would never have ended up together, but as I spoke, I wondered what he’d be doing now if Death hadn’t come to take him.

I went to the farm on Saturday to spend some time with Shayla-Rae, her husband (who is jokingly referred to as my skelmpie – which loosely translated implies that we’re having an affair), my precious Godchild, Lily-Rose, and SR’s mum.  SR’s dad exchanged this world for Another four years ago, yet when here mum talks about him, it’s clear that her heart aches still for him.  They were together for forty-seven years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive!

SR’s grandmother, Granny Wood, who turns 100 in October this year (yes, she will be a centenarian!) also remembers her late husband with fond tears and smiles.  She regales tales of their time together with crystal clarity, despite her mind being addled by dementia that is setting in.

Now, in SR’s mum and Gran’s case, they married young (as was custom) so I’m not sure if they’d had the opportunities to meet more than the one or two men they did before they settled down into marriage if they would have said they experienced love more than once.  For them it was a case of One Great Love, their Forever Love.

I’ve not dated many blokes either (my track record with the opposite sex has been nothing short of disastrous!), but I’ve loved more than once, and I mean greatly loved.  The sad thing though is that as boundless as I can love, it never seems to be enough.

I know that just because it’s what I feel, doesn’t make it true, but it’s on my mind and I’m getting it out because topping (overthinking) about my worth to others (which is a huge thing for me) is not going to do me any good in this state of mind.

In the meantime, I’ll console myself that not even death’s sting can conquer forever love.

Oh, and just a side note, my brain is getting food tonight… Elena and I are going for sushi!

Who knows what this Misfit’s fed brain will come up with next?

I guess y’all just have to wait and see 😉

Direction = Up!

I watched an episode of NCIS: Los Angeles on Sunday at Harriet’s place.  It was about a cult called The Church of the Unlocked Mind.  I’ve been told that watching TV is not conducive to my recovery, but I didn’t think forty-five minutes would do much harm. Well, I had nightmares the entire night about being held captive- and attempted to be brainwashed by an inescapable sect that I was quite exhausted when I woke up on Monday morning.  I decided that reading is a more suitable pastime.

Today marks my one-month anniversary since I was discharged from the hospital.  For the most part, I’m feeling better and I’ve been likening myself to a Phoenix.  I even had Elena do my nails in the theme.

I’ve shed many tears the past thirty days, but I remember in the second Harry Potter book that Professor Dumbledore told Harry that Phoenix tears having healing properties.  My own tears have contributed to my rise from the ashes; granted, crying isn’t the only thing that’s been a catalyst to the improvement of my mental health, I’ve also changed my ringtone to Katy Perry’s Rise.  But that too isn’t all:  It’s a combination of factors – the medication, going to sleep with the fowls and people respecting my boundaries.  At some stage I will make a concerted effort to get back in the gym, but not to become obsessed like I did the first time I did my nut.

I’ve also reached a point of tossing my hands in the air with a screw-this-I’m-over-it–attitude if things beyond my control start to get me down.  Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes a week, sometimes a month and sometimes it takes literal years, but it happens.  When it happens, it is like something within me awakens and I have an urgent need to do something that will enhance my self-esteem or better me in some way.  I think that makes me human?

One thing that is a clear indicator of me being on the mend is that I’m starting to get excited about things again and I’m planning.  I love planning – whether it’s a meal, an outing, a party or a trip.  One of my colleagues has a milestone birthday coming up, in August, and I’m already thinking of something special that can be done to surprise her.  I’m also making photobooth props so that everyone in attendance can join in the fun and I’ll make a nice collage for her as a keepsake.  No, I’m not letting the cat out the bag here, because I know she doesn’t read my blog.

There are also plans in the pipeline to attend a bachelor auction at the end of May (I won’t be bidding on any would-be suitors though because the tickets are a bit steep), but it’s for a good cause and it’s a proper formal affair, and a night out on the town with my girl friends will do me good.  Shayla-Rae and Rowena have both hauled out formal dresses for me to try on, so I’m spoilt for choice.  I forgot home much fun playing dress-up can be.  I also realize that I look amazing in the colour green.  Maybe there’ll be more opportunities to wear evening dresses down the line, who knows?

In short, if I look back at where I am now vs where I was a month ago, renewal is clear and that’s good news.  One step at a time…

Brain Itch

Elizabeth invited me to join her, Gabriel and Steve to go and watch a local show, but I am really budget conscious right now, and besides that, God had an appointment with me at church last night.  In actual fact, He’s had appointments with me the entire weekend, but more about that in a minute… Has it ever happened to you that you can listen to a song, regardless of the genre and enjoy it for the piece of magic it is, but out of the blue, that same song will take on an entirely new meaning, and tug at your soul?  If not, then I don’t think you’re normal…

Last night in church we sang “Jesus, Lover of my Soul” and while I’ve sung it countless times, last night I really understood the words.  “You’ve taken me from the miry clay…”  You see, since moving into my own place, things have been hard.  There, I’ve said it.  They’ve been hard.  I haven’t really had disposable income to enjoy the lifestyle I became accustomed to when living with my parents.  Some nights are incredibly lonely.  My friends are around, but for the most part, they don’t really understand just how difficult this transition is for me.  I’ve spent a great deal crying myself to sleep at night, but yet, I have wanted for nothing.  All my needs have been taken care of.  God has kept His promise to supply all my needs according to His Glory in Christ Jesus.  So, as hard as it is, I’m trying to stay focused.  Last night though, when we sang this song, the floodgates opened because Valerie, my colleague, told me that this is a process I have to go through; that God is moulding me for bigger, better things.  He has taken me from the miry clay and He is moulding me into an even more beautiful pearl for His Crown.

I’m reading William Paul Young’s Crossroads and my word, I sometimes feel that the book was written specifically for me.  Sometimes I will read only a small excerpt, but there will be such a powerful message in there that I get goosebumps. I keep telling myself that I must invest in post-it notes so that I can just mark the messages.  I WILL have to make a plan after work today.  

On Saturday I attended an amazing ladies’ tea where the message was about women being the pearls in God’s Crown, and what a timely process it is for a pearl to be formed.  Again, “You’ve taken me from the miry clay…set my feet upon a rock…”  I left that tea feeling… for lack of a more descriptive phrase, specially chosen.  

Not really wanting to go straight to bed after church, I asked Andrea (a friend from Herbalife) if she felt like coffee and within minutes she was at my flat.  We chatted about what happened in the week and I told her about the tea and other happenings.  Normally I wouldn’t really discuss religious/spiritual issues with people whom I am just getting to know, but I feel a strange kinship towards Andrea.  She seems to just “get me”, more than some of my life long friends do.  Her advise was to remember that I am never alone and that nothing ever happens without reason.  Sure, it may not be clear right now, but in hindsight, everything makes sense.

Now, to the title of this post…Brain Itch… for those of you who don’t know what a brain itch is – it is a song that is stuck in your head that no matter how many times you’ve sung the words, you just cannot get it out of your head.  Guess what’s stuck in my head right now?  Your Song by Elton John. I’m not sure why, but I hope it is saved on my netbook so that I can just listen to it to get it out of my head…

Wishing you all an amazing week, filled with blessings, love and hope.