Monday, April 21, 2008

Dear Hollard

I'm sure you guys are pretty used to getting all kinds of letters of complaint, insurance queries and general bits of paper from stupid people that don't understand what makes the world go round these days. This letter is, however, different...of that much I can assure you.

I've driven on the M1 almost everyday for the past couple of years...and every morning there is one thing that puzzles me all the way to work where more important matters take hold of my mind. But at that early hour of the morning when my brain is literally still fast asleep, this little thing is highly consuming for the little bit of brain capacity I have available.

Why on earth do you guys have a huge statue of a cow wearing a diaper on your grass in front of your building???? Seriously, you guys don't produce milk, meat, babies or why on earth would you feel the need to have this monstrosity on your lawn?

Anyway, far be it from me to criticize you for your way of thinking, but I would appreciate it if you could put my very much fast asleep mind at ease.



Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Dear Diary

I think today's entry should be titled "Goodbye Jack, hello friend", or something like that anyway. I've been struggling with something the last couple of days. Pretty much all on my own, not wanting to say it out loud in case it might just become true. But after mulling it over in my own mind until it drove me a little insane, i finnaly managed to chat to 2 of my chums.......and predictably they weren't pleased about the situation, but the sympathy and cyber hugs i received was enough to make me sit down, face up, build a *bridge and get over it.

I suspect the undefinable "relationship" between my darling Jack and I are shifting gears. No longer is it the relationships of 2 sweethearts but rather a solid friendship, which found it's foundation in romance. Perhaps that is slightly odd, but i've come to realise that i'd rather have him as a friend than not have him as part of my life.

The odd thing is that neither of us did anything wrong or even said anything to that just changed. I think on some level we're still crazy about each other....oh all right....I'm still crazy about him, but I've also realised that despite the fact that i've had my head solidly turned for a while, he is not MY Prince Charming. He's definitely a prince charming and a fabulous guy....but i've come to accept that perhaps our relationship is not meant to be.

As I'm writing this I realise that there is a distinct possibility that I could be over reacting. Using this overthinking, over analytical brain of mine to construct a little situation that doesn't really excist simply because I'm, well, thinking about it too much. So I guess the two of us will definitely have to have a little talk, and soon. This little gem needs some closure to put her overthinking little mind at ease.

The really funny thing is that I'm not upset about this at all. I thought i'd feel really sad and a little broken hearted, coming to the conclusion that it's all over romantically, but I'm not. And at present i'm trying really hard not to overthink my lack of upsetness.

After scaning through some of my diary entries in the last couple of years I came to a conclusion. (bridgy, this one is for you) I definitely haven't met MY Prince Charming yet. I've met plenty of guys who impersonate my prince charming, which tends to confuse me for a while, but I've never met My Prince Charming.

Anywhoo little booklet.......I feel good;) I've faced my fear with regards to Jack and I came out alive at the other end. I think I can safely say that regardless of how this pans out, i'll be OK. I've accepted worst case if I end up being am I gonna be excited!



P.S. - *Once again not refering to Bridget here!

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Dear Producers of Zwahashu

I considered the fact that you guys might find this letter insulting and rude. But I just couldn't sit back and pretend like this didn't really make my skin crawl in agitation.

Tonight while I was working hard at completing a gruelling exercise routine, your program happened to be on. The program isn’t all that great to begin with, but being all for local programs and such I opted not to waste the energy to interrupt my session and change the channel.

After spending most of the program talking in one of our thousands of official languages (which I didn't understand) during prime time viewing, you finally screened a snippet of the presenter with a professional chef. I was kind of nauseated by the way that the vegetable lasagne was was totally unconventional and weird. But I decided to labour on through the show while I waited for 7de laan to start. (Yes, on the days I’m home early enough, which are rarely, I watch 7de laan....get over it!!)

After the actual preparation of the terribly gross lasagne the recipe was briefly displayed on the screen. And this is where I finally lost it. The list read as follows:
- Lasagne
- Mixed vegetables
- Butter
- Aromat
- Milk
- Mashroom soup
- Mixed herbs
- Cheddar cheese
Spot the reason for my dismay.

Mashroom soup......mashroom soup??????So I chop up mashrooms to add to my food, drink mashroom soup and make mashroom sauce to add to pasta or put on a burger or over a steak. What the hell is mashroom soup???

I am genuinely appalled at the fact that an error like this slipped past you guys, the producers. What on earth is the rest of the world going to think of us when they see that we spell mushroom, Mashroom??How does something like this happen?

Anyway, I just thought I'd bring this under your attention as I consider it to be the beginning of the end. What is to become of a nation when our national broadcaster can't even spell? It's a small little thing, but every big thing is just a collection of a lot of little ones. I would appreciate it if you could look into this.



Monday, April 7, 2008

Dear Client

I have learnt a very valuable lesson today. A lesson I was hoping to never learn, never experience, never be faced with. But alas, life happens and so do you, and I have to deal with that.

I have learnt that a leopard never changes it's spots. That if someone is an idiot today they will probably be and idiot for the rest of their lives, and just because I keep my promises and try and be a good person doesn't mean the rest of the world will. I have rudely been introduced to the reality of the male dominated world i function in, and I have been shaken, but definitely not thrown. Your behaviour will only serve to make me stronger, more strong minded and more "hardegat".

Ever since our first meeting I've been irked by the mere thought of you. Somehow I could never quite manage to feel comfortable in you presence and for the most part i managed to ensure that i never had to meet with you alone. But a one on one client auditor meeting was inevetable. And you sir, overstepped the boundaries.

The suggestive comments I could handle. The extremely unsubtle hints I managed to brush off. And the invitation to a night with you I could backhand away with a light threat and a stern tone of voice. But what you did that day threw me over the edge completely. Grabbing my hands behind my back and pulling me close to you is sexual harrassment in an extreme form.

I snapped. I yelled and kicked and finally managed to get you to let go. I phoned Bossman and together we made a sexual harrassment case against you. You set up a meeting with both of us and begged me to let the case go. To think about your wife and your children and to consider the fact that i'd be ruining a perfectly happy family. I hated the fact that you used my softheartedness against me and that you managed to make me feel guilty for something that wasn't even remotely my fault. But, after much discussion, many tears and a semi nervous breakdown, I dropped the case.

You promised that you would be the image of profesionality. That you would never again touch me, say anything suggestive to me, as long as i dropped the case and you remained my client. Being me I was stupid enough to believe you.

In the past couple of months however, I have learned that you are a liar. You do not care for your family. You're a greedy pig who thinks that money can buy class, and love and most of all that money can buy me. Well, it can't! I'm sick of your stupid comments whenever I'm forced to meet with you. Suggesting that everything from the length of my dress to the cut of my top was specifically to seduce you. You'd probably think i was trying to seduce you if i dressed like a bloody nun too!

I've warned you before and I'm warning you again for the last time. Stay the hell away from me! If you don't I will re-open the case against you. I will see your ass in court and I will tear you to pieces. I may be soft and friendly and nice....but i'm no one's toy! Bossman has insisted that 2nd in command will be your contact from now on, so there is absolutely no reason for you to come anywhere near me.

I certainly hope that you realise that I'm deadly serious and that even though I'd hate every second of it, I won't hesitate to do this. Please, I beg you....just stay the hell away from me.



Thursday, April 3, 2008

Dear Druggie friend

As I started to formulate this letter in my mind, something profound occured to me. I need to find friends who don't do drugs, don't try to commit suicide because of any random thing that happens and generally have as little issues as I do. If I don't I might possibly go totally insane.

I find it really hard to write this letter. My heart is once again breaking for someone else who can't cope with life, have nothing to live for and generally believes that there are too few people in the world who really and truly care. My heart is breaking for you sweetface.

I was enjoying a wonderful evening of cheese, cracker, wine, hubbly and all round good company when the chilling news reached me. The moment i saw the 5 missed calls from your housemate on my phone I knew something was up. I called back, and the devestating news sent me reeling. You were in hospital, unconscious, barely had OD'd.

Your housemate was completely hysterical and I tried my best to calm him down...desperately pushing down the fear and tears to the pitt of my stomach...i had to be strong. For him, for you, for your parents. He was in no state to contact everyone who needed to be notified. So I soldiered on....calling friends I haven't spoken to in ages and comforting strangers as best I could.

When I was finally able to put down the phone I realised to my complete astonishment that I was crying. You know as well as I do that I hardly ever cry. I was furious at you for being the cause of those tears, and upset that I hadn't seen it coming. My evening was ruined for the most part, but i tried to put on a brave face. No need to spoil everybody else's evening right. *Insert link here* Friend who discovered my blog noticed something was up right away...and I hated the fact that my tears would cause her to worry. I suspect she worries about me too much, but I suppose that's what friends are for:) She alerted Jack to the situation as soon as I left the room, realising that i had forgotten to phone your best friend living in East London.

Jack was quick to hug and comfort, but stood in awe of the fact that I was actually crying...which of course made me cry a little more..knowing that I didn't have to be all that strong did me the world of good.

You briefly opened you eyes late on friday night, but only woke up sometime saturday afternoon. I was overjoyed and at the same time I was furious! What on earth were you thinking? You're refusing to tell us whether the OD was on purpose or accidental, which tells me it was on purpose. What could have gone wrong to make you resort to this? Why have you gone back to using drugs anyway? I thought you left all of that behind you a long time ago. You're better than this friendster.

I started writing this letter because i wanted to give you a piece of my mind. But I can't. I just can't cope with the emotional stress of dealing with this right now. I'm glad you're OK. I'm glad that you've agreed to go to counceling sessions as soon as they discharge you tomorrow and i'm really glad you've agreed to spend some time in a rehab centre. I just wish that it didn't have to come to this.

You're in my prayers my friend


P.S. Still no luck on the edit if you have a problem with my spelling and such it's exactly that....your problem

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Dear Hijacker 2

That was the last straw! I have had enough. I've been your little ragdoll, punching bag and floormat for long enough. It's time for me to move on. To find someone who will appreciate me for who I am, who won't beat me, yell at me and call me names.

It started out all pretty and and in love and stuff....but it's over. Just in case you had trouble reading that i'll repeat myself..."IT'S OVER". I refuse to stare into those gorgeous blue eyes of yours for a second longer and be swayed by the power they've had over me.

Don't even try to phone me, I won't answer. I don't want to watch your stupid band play and I don't think the way that you insist you're the boss is cute. No longer will an electric shock run through my whole body when you accidently graze my arm. This was supposed to be the happiest time of my life, but it's not, it turned out the be the worst.

I'm broken inside, and I have no idea how i'm going to fix myself, let alone try and fix our relationship. Please respect my wishes and stay as far away from me as possible.


P.S. Happy April fool's day darling*naughty smile*

P.P.S. Happy April fool's day for all of you guys who actually believed that letter:)