Musings

Disabled

2009-06-18T03:01:00.000-07:00

I spent a couple of months at the beginning of this year being disabled. I was on crutches, couldn’t bend my leg or put any pressure on it. I was also wearing a big leg brace and could only move at a snail’s pace. That in itself is very annoying, but what shocked me even more is how mean people are to you when you’re disabled. First of all I went to the traffic department and got a disabled parking disc. I have enough trouble driving and getting in and out of the car to want to struggle with getting to and from the car. I used it once. At my sister’s wedding reception. Apart from that there was simply never parking in any of the disabled parking bays anywhere I went, including the International Airport in Cape Town and several shopping centres, or for that matter, the hospital I went to. The parking bays were always full with cars not sporting any disabled discs. Always. No parking for me. I didn’t have to use a wheelchair or anything fortunately, but I still had to try and maneuver myself out of the car and get the crutches out, and try to balance whatever I’m carrying in such a way that I didn’t have to use my hands to carry it, as my hands were full of crutches. It was such a pain, and because I started to realize that people park in disable bays so no-one with a disability could, I tried to avoid going anywhere.
So that sucks, but once you do get somewhere, you find that people are even worse. I remember one instance specifically, because I saw a girl walk into a convenience store and thought to myself that I love her haircut and the funky ensemble she was wearing. She was behind me in the check-out counter, and as it was my turn to go pay, she literally bumped me out of the way and cut in. I was in no position to stealthily cut in front of anyone. You try balancing a shopping basket and crutches. Not only are you lop sided with the weight of your groceries, you can’t really hold it properly. So being bumped really throws you off kilter, and this bitch used that to cut in front of me. I remember her because I thought she looked so funky, but it was hardly an isolated incident. People don’t stare at you when you’re disabled; they pretend you’re not there. At least the bitch at the convenience store looked back over to me after she bumped into me and I was dropping everything on the floor and gave me a cocky smile. As bitchy as that was, she at least acknowledged me. Most people would walk into you, over you, or push you off the sidewalk without even looking at you. I had no idea it would be like that! I expected stares etc, but all I encountered were people treating me like I’m invisible. I was slower and had lots more accessories and somehow became less visible. WTF. I never expected special treatment while I was disabled, just regular regard for my person would have been nice though. I was slower, fair enough, walk past me, I’ll even get out of your way, but bumping me out of the way when I’m unstable to begin with is just not cricket.
My surgeon was telling me he spent a day in a wheel chair to see what it’s like, and his eyes opened to how difficult it really is. I’m thinking maybe everyone should have a go on crutches or a wheelchair, even if it’s just for a day. We could all use a bit of education in this regard, and maybe have a little more respect for people on crutches and wheelchairs. It’s no joke.

The past is more fun in the future...

2009-05-28T08:44:00.000-07:00

One of the perks of time is that the past becomes more and more ridiculous. Things that seemed like the end of the world at the time, now you look back on them and it’s a little embarrassing that you ever gave a shit. Moments in your life where you thought that this was going to be the end, after this nothing else matters, and then it turns out the event in question becomes the thing that doesn’t matter. I like the butterfly effect theory about how every single little thing has an influence on your future in some way, mostly things we don’t even think about. My choice in something as simple as colour socks I’m wearing today may have affected things that I will never know about, maybe even big things, maybe history as we know it.
A very good example of this is boys. Crushes, loves of your life, people who rock your world. Only later you see them walking in the street and you hope they won’t recognize you because you couldn’t bear to think that you ever had or wanted to have something with such a loser. I’m not trying to be mean on purpose, and I’m sure there are still people who fancy their pants off, but it most certainly isn’t me. We all change as we get older and I guess some people grow out of the side of them that we once fancied and holds on to the bits of them that we didn’t really like so much but were besotted enough to ignore. I’m the kinda girl who can go years being completely in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist. Happens all the time. My crushes are very very long term, and usually come to nothing or end up being very disappointing. I suppose we all do it, we fancy someone and make them up in our minds to be the best thing since flushing toilets. We spend all our energy running around after them, making friends with them, hanging out with them, thinking about them, fantasizing about them and in that time they can do no wrong at all. Most of the time you can spend hours with them, helping them through personal shit, supporting them and still they never really see you. I have a great deal of experience with this. Accidentally becoming the friend of the person you fancy. Ugh, what a pain in the ass. With one such guy I even ended up helping him pick up chicks! I know, not a very high level of self esteem displayed in that one. The beauty of it is, that after you cry your eyes out, and spend years holding on to that little tender spot in your heart you had for this person, you see them again and realize you are completely unattracted to them. I saw a former crush of mine a while ago, and low and behold, some other girl was doing the same thing I used to do, run around after him and lurk in the background. I had a civil ‘hi how have you been’ conversation with him and was really to jump back into ‘I adore you’ mode, only I couldn’t. I just really didn’t see it anymore and realized I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to fall back into old habits, but couldn’t, whatever was driving me into the insanity of these kinds of relationships was gone. Hallelujah for that. It’s actually a little bit funny that I ever cared; to think that that mattered to me so much.
The same goes for other things. Getting that job might have seemed like the most important thing and now you think it’s a pretty pathetic position to hold, or being worried about what people think of you when it turns out they’re even more concerned about what you think of them. Nothing new, nothing we don’t actually know, but something we are constantly forgetting.

Cape Town Sexpo 2009 - my thoughts

2009-05-26T07:18:00.000-07:00

I went to it last year, and ended up taking my top off in the hope of winning some underwear. Alas I didn’t win, but the lady who did looked like she really needed new undies so I’m not too upset about it. I also got a certificate to prove that I have mastered some basics in pole dancing. I made it fun for myself because, dammit, I had paid the admittance fee. I wasn’t going to waste that without giving it a good shot and trying to have as much fun as I could. I remember leaving, thinking last year that it would have been a waste of time if I hadn’t made an effort to have some fun, the stalls were much of a muchness and the retailers seemed a bit embarrassed to be there. So I went again this year, with the same thoughts in mind, to make it fun for myself. I tried, I went to see the shadow show and the body art and the pole dancing show, and frankly if it hadn’t been for Tracey Simmonds the show would have been boring. The shadow show was prerecorded (which I’m sure is some cardinal sin in the world of sexual entertainment), the stalls were even more mundane than last year, and the giant genital mascots were there last year too and still weren’t funny. The people working at the show didn’t seem as shy as last year, I must admit, which might just be because they already walked around naked last year, so no big deal.

Tracey Simmonds however was amazing. She saved the show for me. It would have been a complete waste of entrance fee if it hadn’t been for her. Check her out on http://www.traceysimmonds.com/ She really does stuff most of us couldn’t do on the ground let alone on a pole. She put our local Mavericks and Teazers girls to shame. Granted she did win Miss Pole Dancing UK, so she would be expected to be pretty good.
So no good complaining about something if I can’t offer suggestions to improve it. I’d like to see less of, giant walking penis and vagina mascots, unless they can remake the costumes to not put people off sex for weeks. Fewer shops selling bad fake jewelry and plastic handbags with Marilyn Monroe crudely printed on it. I’d like to see more lingerie in a variety of price brackets; I’d like to see a greater variety of toys, once again in a variety of price ranges. It felt like you were either going to spend thousands of rands getting some reinforced leather item that can support a grown woman’s weight suspended from a ceiling, or alternatively some very dodgy plastic object that can’t obviously go anywhere near passion because looking at it too long will break it. There is a world of sex paraphernalia I don’t even know about, and at this rate might never find out about because they don’t somehow make it to the Sexpo. Less giant inflatable penis and more objects of substance, if you get my drift.

eating red

2009-05-15T04:19:00.000-07:00

made it a bit more difficult, shot and starred and written and directed by myself.

Cooking for one.

2009-05-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

Getting bored of making sandwiches so I’ve Googled it. Well it seems all ‘cooking for one’ sites are geared towards men, single men, who only eat curry. No matter, all I wanted was a site that could steer me in the direction of something other than toast that requires little cleaning of dishes after the fact. Eating straight from the pot is not below me. It’s a big adjustment to make, going from cooking a nice main meal for me and my man to these weeks (or months) of not having him around and just having to take care of myself and the cat. You know you’re in trouble when the food you’re giving the cat looks better than what you’re eating. Generally I’m not a bad cook, but I’m a cook, not a chef. I cook like a working-mother; I attempt to make healthy food, tasty enough to keep him distracted from the computer, in adequate quantities for my growing man, but nothing that requires hours of preproduction. With only myself to feed however, I become more concerned with the repercussions of my cooking than how it actually tastes. How many things can I cook in one pot? Can I use the same knife I chopped the onions with to eat my dinner? Minimize the dishes, minimize the prep time, and it’s starting to bore me.
The adjustment is always weird when he leaves. And when he comes back. He leaves for work, often with very little notice and without definite dates that he’ll be back. I’m not worried that he won’t come back because the computer he built is still at home with me, but it’s strange going from living with someone who shares a bed with you to not having anyone there at all. When he’s home the flat feels smaller, but cozy, when he’s gone it becomes a huge empty space. A space I have to try and fill. I usually spend the first few weeks with one light on in the entire place trying to come up with ways to feel less alone. I soon realize there’s nothing on tv. A mild depression waves over me. The first things I miss are silly like washing dishes after him, cooking for him, getting annoyed at him for playing computer games all the time. I miss that! Then I start speaking to myself, singing out loud. Then I don’t bother getting dressed after a bath, walk around naked. I don’t bother picking up after myself in the bedroom for week (while usually I’m picking up for both of us) and skip washing the floors. I leave the door open when I’m taking a bath and brushing my teeth, I don’t make the bed. I get into a way of living that exploits the perks of being by myself. In short I start enjoying being alone again. Then he comes home. It’s great, but it takes me a week or two to remember that I really shouldn’t burp out loud anymore and I get a fright when I walk into a room and someone is there. I have to share the affections of our cat with someone else, and start cooking real meals again.
It feels a bit like split personality or living a double life. He’s either there all the time, at home, or not there at all and only contactable electronically when our time zones happen to converge on a convenient time for us both to communicate. It’s schizo. It’s bizarre. It’s all and nothing. It takes getting used to, but for now, it’s life and I can’t wait for him to come back home. I can’t wait to be inconvenienced by him, to wash up after him and even be ignored by him when he’s playing games online. I can’t wait to work all day and then go home and cook a proper meal. This I can’t wait for! I must be in love or something.

the crash car!

2009-05-14T09:16:00.001-07:00

Well the accident didn't kill me, so I'll be damned if these insurance people are going to get me down now...

If the accident doesn't kill you, the admin will...

2009-04-29T02:27:00.000-07:00

Bad luck is following me. People are suggesting I go see a sangoma or priest to get the bad voodoo lifted. I've been in four traffic accidents in about a year, all of them pretty bad. Two on the bike and two in the car. The last one that happened on the 22nd of April (voting day) was the worse damage wise. A truck drove into the back of my car and put my boot where the front seats should be. We are lucky to be alive. On the other hand, if I had been injured I might not have to deal with all the bull shit I have to deal with. I was the victim in this accident, and everyone (including my family and boyfriend) are making me feel like I'm the perp. Not a single person has said to me 'dude are you okay, how are you coping, do you want to talk about it...'. No, all I hear is 'you need to do this, and this, do this at the police, do this at the tow company, you have to do this, get a new car...' etc. And everywhere I go I'm met with a brick wall of incompetence or 'don't give a shit'. The police was a joke, in spite of the road being closed, two ambulances a fire engin and several police vans, there seems to be no record of the accident at any police station (this I figured out after two days of holding for 20min at a time), so I went to report it to a police man who had trouble reading the fucking sheet he has to fill in. He kept asking me 'what must I write here'. I dispair.

I'm dealing with people who won't release my car, hostile insurance companies, incompetant police and frankly idiots, when all I want to do is curl up in a little ball and cry. I start shaking in my sleep, I have whiplash, my whole body hurts and people treat me like I'm lazy. I'm the only one who has done a single fucking thing about this accident and I have to litterally drag information from my own insurance company, the police etc. I need a letter from my insurance company, it has taken me almost a week to get it from them, now I see they addressed it to someone else so I need a new letter. No doubt this will take another week.

So what did we learn here? If someone you know or love was in an accident, don't attack them. Don't give them shit, don't tell them they're not being assertive enough, don't be nasty. They are being attacked from all sides with hostile admin, what they need is a fucking hug not more shit.

I think what I am supposed to learn here is to trust no-one. Not the people driving on the roads with me, and not the fuckers who pretend to give a shit just so they can bash you as soon as they have a gap. I knew this before, but I'm having to learn it again. I'm learning it alright. I guess I should be gratefull after all. I'm not dead and I'm learning my forgotten lessons.

Mummenschanz, I have not words

2008-06-23T03:46:00.000-07:00

If Mummenschanz is ever in your town you must go see it even if you have to sell a kidney to buy a ticket. It’s a physical theatre production that forces you to see things differently; it makes you look at the stage like a kid. They use what looks like simple movements and props to make a huge impression, however it’s usually the things that look simple that takes the most work to pull off well. They are able to take objects that we recognize, and then, often use the whole body to manipulate it and then still make it ‘say’ something. It can only work if it looks simple, it can only be simple if it’s not. The other inspirational thing was the fact that the four performers were, well, old. In physical theatre we seem to think, performers have a limited theatre life for performing, after a certain point they have to be satisfied with pulling funny faces to get a laugh. Well, myth busted! http://www.mummenschanz.com/

First try at stop frame...its very rough

2008-05-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

...

2008-05-29T07:12:00.001-07:00

sum more

2008-05-29T07:11:00.001-07:00

Some pics....

2008-05-29T06:33:00.000-07:00

stills camera plus awesome view =.....

2008-04-11T06:52:00.000-07:00

Picture of Poe Chub Chub Rabe Gilmour

2008-03-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

Finally pictures of Poe Chub Chub Rabe Gilmour

2008-03-12T06:58:00.001-07:00

Big Brother Big Sister South Africa

2008-02-09T05:28:00.000-08:00

Finished my training today for BBBSSA. Pretty hectic stuff, but as tired as I am I'm excited about the prospect of have a 'little' in my life. What it is, is a mentoring programme where kids get refered by schools or orphanages or social workers. They need a bit of extra help and a bit of guidance and they get matched with a 'big'. I would be a big and the 'little' would be the kid I mentor. They are very short of men in the programme so if there is any guys who are keen to join something like this check out this site http://www.bbbssa.org.za/about/faq.html

Looking forward to the challenge, and I'm pretty sure it will be.

Trouble in Chad

2008-02-06T05:51:00.000-08:00

Hectic week. Gethyn went missing from the radar on Thursday evening. Couldn’t get hold of him at all in Chad. At first I wasn’t worried, he might be bussy or ignoring me, but then on Friday I just got a weird feeling and I googled the news from Chad. I fell off my chair (no really, got a bum bruise from it). Rebels taking over the capital of Chad N’djemena, no cell phone communication as the networks have all been shut down. I call his work and they treat me like I’m a panicky idiot because they haven’t heard anything. About an hour later they call back to say, oh yes, there does seem to be a spot of bother in Chad. My confidence in their ability to get them out of there leaves me completely. Nothing, nothing nothing. No news no word, can’t get hold of his sister, can’t get hold of anyone who can really tell me anything. Did get a response from UN who told me to the WFP guy in charge of them who I couldn’t get hold of either. No sleep, much crying, occasional panick. I get a message from him on Sunday to say he’s okay but can’t talk. On Monday I get another message to say he’ll be at this number for a while so I phone him but he can’t talk. Then again but he was busy, then no availability again until Tuesday morning. Speak to him for a bit but he doesn’t really relate to me at the moment after everything he’s been through. Says he can’t tell me much at the moment. He’s in Cameroon, in a four star hotel, having drinks by the pool, waiting to see what happens. Thanks so much for everyone who asked to be kept updated and asked after his well being. He’s got cable tv in his room now, so it certainly seems to be going alright.

awesome news inbetween it all

2008-01-20T04:47:00.000-08:00

Henry Rollins is coming to Cape Town for a spoken word show, as everyone who knows me have been informed already. Its amazing news. I heard Henry Rollins for the first time in his album Weight as a youth, then I found out that he writes, but I was never able to find any of his books. Then I had some time to kill in Kuala Lampur and walked over the the tall towers (the ones you see in pictures of KL) and ambled about. Found this huge bookstore in there and started going through the books in the music section. I found one of Henry's books, and another and another, I was so excited and happy and just...well ja. I bought them all and took them with me to a remote island and read them all as slowly as I could to savour them. I was hooked. They are brilliant, not so much tropical island reading, but brilliant none the less. I later bought more of his books online, two of them arrived at my house signed! Jeesh was I jumping around like a crazy person. Thing is, as stupid as this sounds, its inspirational. The books, what he writes, I've often called him my Mike Lipkin. When everything seems to be going against me if stuff seems impossible somehow reading his work just changes my mind. Look what he's managed to do http://21361.com/ . My favourite of his books are Solipsist and Roomanitarian. See if you can find it.

Season

2008-01-02T05:46:00.000-08:00

I've spent two weeks off. It was awesome, mostly got to catch up on Admin I've been too busy to get to through the rest of the year. Also I was learning how to drive my new motorbike. Its brilliant, its beautifull look http://motoring.iafrica.com/newsbriefs/711675.htm See told ya. Spent time with family, friends, other people's friends and people who work for Unisa and Vodacom (no we didn't manage accomplish anything at either establishments).

Then on the first day of the year Gethyn left for two days in Joburg and then straight on to Chad. The country. This site is a bit more scary http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chad and isn't it lovely how they included pictures of a severed head on this one.

Driving and service seems to be getting worse. I used to just get annoyed at people who complain about the service in South Africa and bad driving in Cape Town. Its getting a little rediculous though. Went to a restaurant called Mario's in Greenpoint for a farewell dinner with Gethyn. It has a great reputation and seems very authentic. We made reservations and got a table behind a pillar (perhaps the source of the problem). We ordered a drink and then had the manager running over to say "I see you're looking for something in the menu, we don't DO pizzas you know", fair enough neither of were there for the pizza but lets not get funny about it. We ordered a grilled fish and a marinara pasta, it was fine, nothing spectacular. The fish was a bit salty but both baby potatoes were nicely done (!) . The marinara was okay, nothing to write home about. That was it for the rest of the evening. We weren't offered another drink (which was annoying as I wasn't driving for a change and could have gotten tipsy if I wanted) and couldn't even get the waiter to bring us a bill after sitting around with our dishes still on our table for half an hour. I won't even get into the cell phone provider Vodacom. We went to the shop in the Garden Centre in Cape Town, don't know why, we might as well have just hollered our problems into the view from the balcony for all the good it did. We were completely ignored, no explainations, just ignored.

What I've noticed about driving which is a bit worrying is that certain brands of cars no longer include functioning indicators in their cars. These brands include Mercedes, BMW and Volkswagen. Keep an eye open, its pretty weird, people who drive without indicating or putting other motorists in danger are often driving one of the above cars. Must be a manufacturing flaw or something, they don't seem to be able to indicate when changing lanes, parking, turning or for any other reason.

I sounds like a tourist, but unfortunately its true, service is terrible and driving is worse.

DARG

2007-11-14T09:45:00.000-08:00

by the way, check out the place we got Poe from. If you ever want to adopt a pet, consider these guys, also if you ever feel a need to buy a bag of pet food for a pet you don't have, these guys would love to take it off your hands. They have a wishlist, check it out.

http://www.darg.org.za/

I've been busy and bored

2007-11-14T05:19:00.000-08:00

What can I say, I’ve been busy. Work is taking as much of me as it can get, so I’m left with very little else. Sure maybe I should consider moving on, but I don’t have the time to figure that out right now. Either way, I’ve got a second. I did give up acting. That was the first big thing. I told my agent in tears that I can’t do this crap anymore. Seriously can’t sit around in castings surrounded by people prettier, smarter, better and more suited to this industry than me. I’m not cut out for brown nosing and constant cheerfulness. I can fake it every once in a while, I’m an actress but I get the taste of vomit in the back of my mouth from being that way. I see other people doing it so effortlessly and I wonder why I can’t, but then do I want to become one of those people…uhm…not really. Ja, so there’s that. It feels like I’ve cut off one of my limbs and I have no idea what to do with my life. I’m frustrated and moody ever since but then I’m sure it will get better before long. Doesn’t help that I’m hungry all the time due to a strict diet either. My boyfriend recently pronounced his disgust at the potbelly I developed since I quit smoking. Fair enough I gained weight since I stopped smoking, but it’s a bit of a thing living with someone you love and he thinks your body is kinda gross. Hmmm.

The other thing is we got a new kitten. His name is Poe, and he’s awesome. We got him just as he arrived at DARG where we adopted him from. He wasn’t even taken to a kennel yet, he was signed in and signed out to us. It must have been some kind of record. Gethyn had a vision of this kitten and he suits us very well, he is the perfect little soul for us. I’m going to collect my camera from the repair place now (the same problem with it as before) and with luck I’ll be posting pics of Junior soon.

The rest are all gory details, I have too much regards for my readers to bore you with rage and tears. More soon.

Acantha

2007-10-13T00:31:00.000-07:00

Acantha and I have been together for over 11 years. When we first met we didn’t particularly like each other. Don’t get me wrong I like animals, but I thought she was an unnecessary inconvenience to Niki and my carefree studanthood. Someone would have to be around to look after her all the time, pay for all her shots and to have her fixed etc etc. I wiped my hands of her. I told Niki she can keep her as long as she takes care of Acantha and I don’t have to do anything. It didn’t work out that way. Soon enough I fell for her, and I fell very very hard. So hard in fact that when I moved out Niki let her move out with me. She was only about six months old and got knocked up, she had four awesome pitch black kittens, she gave birth to them while she was lying on my stomach. It was a moment. Point is, we were tight. We slept in the same bed, when I was poor, we even ate the same food (we both ate rice). For years she was my best friend, and when I went overseas she was one of the things I missed most. I am one of those people who gets funny about her cat. I have her picture on my phone and on my ipod, everyone knows about my cat and asks me after her health. I moved to Tamboerskloof a while ago, with Acantha of course. After about a year of living in town she started disappearing for a couple days at a time. She’d come in for meals but then leave again. Then she didn’t come back for a couple of weeks and I started freaking out. I made the flyers with her picture on it, took it to all the vets, contacted DARG, the SPCA and put up pictures of her all around the area I live. Then after about three months of this, Acantha jumps through the window like nothing had happened. I was ecstatic. I got her all her favourite things to eat, tried to spoil her rotten. She would come by every once in a while for food and a bit of affection and then she’d leave again. She smelled like someone else’s perfume so I assumed she was spending time with someone else, maybe someone who didn’t work, who could spend a lot of time with her. I felt guilty for not being able to be at home all the time to just spend time with her, but I have to go to work, and the nature of my work is that sometimes I work a lot. So then she stopped coming by the house, at all. It’s been a couple of months now and I don’t know what to do anymore. There was a time when I might have had to move away, and I couldn’t because she might come back and look for me. But nothing yet. I’ve cried and prayed, and asked and waited, but nothing. Gethyn is getting a bit tired of all this. He suggests I move on. He told me she most likely moved in with some old lady with nothing better to do than feed her pilchards all day, but then isn’t that what parents tell their kids when the family pet dies? It moved in with a nice old lady, or it moved to a farm. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead, but everyone around me seems to believe she has died and I should get over it. So now, what Gethyn has suggested is that we get a cat. Perhaps just a way to get me distracted and get me to move on from Acantha, I don’t know. Would it be a betrayal of her to get a cat? I’ve made it very clear that if we do, and Acantha should come back, she will still have to be the main bitch in the house. That is all understood. I am very excited at the prospect of having a cat in my life again, but I still wish it could have been Acantha. I think we will get that kitten, but it won’t be no Acantha.

Ode to my tats

2007-10-09T05:04:00.000-07:00

I have three and I love them all. I can’t imagine being without them. They’re not all in fashion anymore or cool anymore, in fact many people have trouble figuring out what the one on my leg is, but I love them. My tats are a way for me to remain me. Even when I’ve been shunted around by people telling me what to wear and how to present myself if I want to get work, I still have my tattoos representing who I really am. When I have to wear floral summer dresses and baby pink nail polish, I don’t feel like I’m betraying the rock fan in me, because I’m still wearing my tattoos. It really opened my wardrobe opportunities. Before I got them I felt I had to wear the clothes of my subculture, which lets face it, doesn’t suit me very well. I’m too short and frumpy to pull off the baggy t-shirt and corduroy pants thing. It didn’t stop me wearing it, but since I got my first tattoo I found I didn’t need to anymore. I can wear whatever I like without feeling like I’m betraying myself. It’s a good thing too, because of what I chose to become when I grow up. Going to castings, or visiting my agent who wants us all to be cookie cuts of each other. They want us all to look like blond, brunette and redhead versions of the same person. Cut your hair, colour it, loose weight, dress differently, wear your make-up like this, smile like that, say things like this, and don’t talk too loud. All that would have bothered me much more. I have had moments when I’m at the gym or having to spend extra time in the morning to try and look nice where I think its utter bull. It is bull, but I suppose its my choice to take that and deal with it, also, you know what, it’s okay, because even while I’m having to do all that crap, I’ve still got my tattoos, and they can’t make me take it off, even if they wanted to. Hehe, the final say is mine.

First Timers

2007-10-05T13:39:00.000-07:00

Season is beginning (though some might argue it never really stopped this year) and we are doing a casting for all the new bright young faces in the industry. All the teenagers who want to be models are sitting here petrified, trying to make sure they don’t mess up their hair while they’re waiting, and applying and reapplying their lip gloss. They have moved on from the Tinkerbell’s sticky serum of smell, to their first over zealous attempts at wearing perfume. It’s hard to breathe in here. Typically they come in with mom and dad (and brother and sister and gran and gramps and other curious family members who want to see how it all works) walk through the door, smile and freeze. WTF is clearly written on their face. Panic, fear, disorientation, the floor has just disappeared, gravity doesn’t work, vital signs stop. If their lucky they notice front of house with forms for them the fill in and they start filling in the register. They have to ‘phone a friend’ to remember who their agent is and don’t know what to write under ‘age’. Then another form, with measurements to fill in. AAAHHHHH! Can we borrow the measuring tape? What size pants do I wear. The whole family and entourage get involved and before long, ouma, oupa and tannie all know what size bra the poor teenager wears. Then the sitting and waiting. While all this is going on, I’m getting annoyed, the casting director is getting annoyed, front of house is getting annoyed and the poor ‘new face’ is pooping him or herself.

Let me see if I can help.

Front of House should be your best friend. Smile, flirt, do whatever it takes to get this person to like you. This person can help you move along in the cue and make the waiting experience slightly more tolerable, or they can dislike you and make the whole casting process more difficult for you. You will be asked to fill in forms with your name, agent and sizes and what other commercials you’ve done. Fill it in, no really, fill it all in. If you’ve done no other commercials, then say so, don’t just leave things blank

The quickest way to piss off the people signing you in is to ask them stupid questions. These include but are not limited to, “What is the date today?”, “Do I have to fill this in?” , “Where is the bathroom?” oh and the greatest mistake you can make “How long is this going to take?”. For pissing off the front of house also try showing up half an hour late and then having a fit because they won’t sign you in. Usually we are sworn to turn people away after cut off time, so if you’re late and sign in we get yelled on by a tired annoyed casting director who won’t bother filming you anyway because they want to get dinner.

Before you ask questions to the people running the reception make sure you can’t read the answer somewhere. Like the date, it’s written on the wall in very large letter. The bathroom is at the end of the little path directed with big arrows that say ‘Toilet’. Etc.

When you get in the casting you will most likely do an introduction. This does not include where you went to school, when your birthday is and who your best friends are or that you may enjoy movies and dancing. Say your name and your agent. That is it. Don’t say how old you are unless you’re asked. Then you might be asked for your profiles. Your profiles are the sides of your face. So turn left and turn right. Or, right and left, either way. I’ve heard people panic because they didn’t know they have to bring their profiles. Uhm!?

Try to listen to your casting director. When he/she says to act natural, for pity’s sake act natural. There is no need to start pantomime with song and dance. Less is more. A director can always make you perform bigger, but once he sees you turn your eyes to the mountains and plead for the fabric softener to take out the stains, they bow their heads and pray for the end of the day. Ask questions if you don’t understand or know something. Once the camera is rolling it’s a take, and its work. If you mess up during a casting it needs to be edited, so rather try to get it right the first time.

When you leave, put your sticker with your number in the bin. It’s not difficult. Trust me I’ve done it before. Don’t put it on the wall, or try to give it back to the staff.

I’ll think of more later, but that’s what I’m musing today. Does that make me a bad person?

2007-10-03T05:05:00.000-07:00

Me, thirty.

For those who don't know, a guide to turning 30

2007-10-03T04:23:00.000-07:00

I have crossed the age border. I no longer tick the 20-30 block I am now classified as 30-40 years old. I may as well be 40. Never mind I have discovered that there are perks after all. Being older has released me from the assumption that other people know better. I went for a facial, and as it goes with these things was bombarded by suggestions of expensive products I need to buy. All good and well, I’ve been through this before at hair salons and beauticians, and I usually give in, believing that my face or hair will in fact fall off if I don’t buy this product immediately, it has been the cause of many dips into my savings. So for my 30th I get a voucher, go for the facial and get told to spend over R 1000 on new products. ‘Bugger that’ my internal monologue goes, ‘I’m not going to have this twenty something year old tell me what to do’. ‘She’s a mere child, and I will not allow myself to be bullied by some upstart’. No thanks I tell her, give her a winning smile, and walk out. Poepsnuiter! It’s a word I have earned the right to use. Anyone who is younger than me, who is pissing me off, or acts like they are the bees knees, will be branded a poepsnuiter. I’m a tannie now, so everyone else gets to be a poepsnuiter.

I failed in many ways. There were things I was planning to achieve by the time I’m thirty and going down my list I am a complete failure. I have made no significant contributions to the world, I have not learned to surf, I have not performed on stages around the world, I have never been in Heat magazine, I have never recorded any of my music, none of my short stories have ever been published, I have never been able to extract tears from my audience with a moving performance and I’ve never won any awards, hell I can’t even get myself cast in commercials for nappies or stain removers. I suck. But on the flip side the pressure is off. I don’t have to try and achieve anything before a deadline. The next significant age I’m going to be is fifty or sixty so I’ve got plenty of time to procrastinate, forget or fail before the next age border. We put so much pressure on ourselves to achieve certain things before this significant age, and I haven’t managed to do it; so fine. Moving along. Next question. What’s for lunch. There is nothing I really need to do right now anymore. Sure I don’t think I’ll stop trying, I haven’t fired my agent, I didn’t burn all my manuscripts and journals, smashed my guitar or stopped working out. The thing is I don’t have a deadline anymore, I can keep doing these things at my leisure.

So my friends for those of you about to reach your thirties, and for those whose ranks I have finally joined, my views and perspective on this significant age. Don’t be scared, but freak out a little if you must, then move an. We’re hitting our quarter life crisis, we’re all allowed to wack out a bit.