I'm back!

My, my, my.  It has been a long time, hasn’t it?  Last we spoke, I’d just moved to Cape Town, was still calling it the Mother Shitty, and was learning to be a human again. 

Well, Boolings, let me tell you, SO MUCH HAS CHANGED.  It was only when I was reading these old posts today that I realised two things.  1) I NEEEEEEED to start blogging again; and 2) I done growed up some. 

In the two and a half years since my last post, these are some of the things that have  happened:

• Mama Boo and I moved out from the friends we were staying with and, after a brief sojourn in what may as well have been a shoe box, we found an amazing flat with an incredible view, and have been there just over two years now.  Never been cosier or happier in a home since high school.  

•  I got a new fkn bed, and it's the love of my life!!! I've spent almost three years sleeping on a squeaky, springy, slumpy three quarter bed, and I was DONE with that noise, so I sucked it up and splurged on a double bed, which makes me feel like a princess with no pea.  It's the best.

• I got a job I loved, and worked my way up till I hit the glass ceiling that was in place there.  Asked questions and wanted more, and when I realised that wasn’t going to happen, and that it was sucking my soul out, I got my ass outta there faster than the Flash on his way to a ‘Netflix and chill’.

• After leaving the succubus of a job, I got my dream job.  I can’t rave enough about how amazing it is.  I know I always start jobs with this zing of excitement and positivity, but I’m almost six months in now, and I can honestly say I want to do this forever.  It’s THE BEST, even though it’s exhausting.

• Dated a very cute fuckboy (before that was an accepted term) for a very short period of time, and it all ended when he decided I was too much for him.  At the time, I was of course gutted, but realised that being too much for someone just means that they’re not enough for me.  Realised also that that’s okay, not everyone is.  (Old me would have lamented this for eons, but that bit about healing?  It seems to have sunk in somewhat.)

• Dated a smart guy, who made me laugh and think and moan, and thought that was enough.  It wasn’t.  Put up with two years of bullshit because I listened to my idiot heart instead of my much smarter brain (and MUCH smarter friends and family), and ended up with a break up text just shy of our two year anniversary.

• Found my tribe in Cape Town.  These people… I can’t even begin to sum up how incredible they are.  They’re nothing like I ever imagined my tribe to be, but my god, I couldn’t imagine my life without them!

• Let go of my obsession with hating Cape Town.  The me of three years ago would be scandalised to hear me say this, but I fucking love it, and I’m not sure I’d ever leave again.  Don’t get me wrong, Jozi will always be home, but it’ll always be there and I’ll always love it.  Cape Town, however, despite its awful drivers and onbeskof wind, has won my heart all over again.  It took a long time for me to realise it, but I think that now that I’ve settled and found something to fill my days that I absolutely adore, it’s made it easier to love, and to admit that love.

• Stopped denying my weirdness, and dyed my hair bright pink with a purple undercut.  And fuck me, I feel like myself again!  It’s funny; when I moved here, everyone said I’d fit right in with all the weirdos, but I denied that part of myself and tried to just blend in with the crowd and be a regular Jane.  FAIL.  I hated that, it made me miserable, and it never fucking worked.  Now?  Doing what I love, with people I adore and would take a bullet for?  I’m me again, and I’m happy again.

• Certified my old hipster status by FINALLY getting my ass to a festival.  Two years in a row, and I want to LIVE at Up The Creek.  Just look at this!  How did I miss this for so long, and how can I make it my life?  It’s the kitties titties, guys.  You should be there.  You won’t regret it!

It just goes to show, resisting change doesn’t stop it from happening; you just end up making the same mistakes over and over until you learn and grow. 

Having recently come out of the long term shitty relationship, I’m in a place of insane growth right now, and as much as it hurts, it’s fantastic and I’m glad for it.  I’m pushing myself to new limits, trying new things (shout out to Tinder and Secret Sunsets, and that’s just this week!) and becoming a whole new version of myself.  I think I’m gonna like this version more than the last. 

So, in short, now that I’m back, keep your eyes peeled for Wednesday Wonders, Tinder Vigilante stories, Shit You Couldn’t Make Up, and more! 

Coming To Terms With Being A Hipster

Friends, I’ve recently had one of those revelation things I keep talking about. This one, however, made me snigger and roll my eyes, instead of the usual tears and anxiety that follow. I’d call that progress? 

I realised that… well…. 
I’m a hipster. 

There. I said it. There’s not going back now, I guess. 

My friends have been accusing me of being a hipster for years, and I’ve always vehemently denied it. I’ve pointed out how I couldn’t possibly be a hipster, because I don’t have an iPhone. Instead, I have a 3rd hand Blackberry that works as it pleases, not as I please. 
Apparently, shunning the iPhone only makes me more hipster. Great. 
Nonetheless, in the last 2 weeks, there have been too many signs of my hipsterdom to ignore any longer. Some of them were: 

- I don’t own a TV, and can’t relate when people talk about the awesome or lame ads they saw while watching 7de Laan or whatever. 

- I crochet. I give crochet as gifts, I sell my crochet goods, I wear my crochet goods. 

- I sew, and people come to me for advice and help with sewing and related topics.* 

- I lived alone, save for my cat, in a gorgeous studio cottage with no security. I stayed there because it’s pretty, despite 3 break-ins. 

- I live on sweet tea, popcorn, and frozen veggies. (Not all at the same time, though!) 

- I’m divorced. I’ve been divorced since just after I turned 28. 

- I know what a Saturn Return is, and I’m in mine. 

- I paint and sketch, and display my work proudly on my wall, as well as gift it to friends. 

- My wall-of-art left a bona fide hipster speechless, and she wanted to steal the idea. 

- I have dozens of files on my computer that are filled with story ideas and actual unfinished short stories, novels etc. 

- I drove a clapped-out old car, put plasters on the bumps and scrapes, stapled the fabric back when it fell off, and I named her FrankenCar. Frankie, for short. I sold her the other day, to fund my move, and now rely on my Moses Wheels: 

These shoes have seen things I can't even remember. The best takkies EVER!!!

- I regularly ran out of fuel for Frankie, and kept a 5l bottle in the car in case of such emergencies, as well as having my friends on speed dial in case it happened at night. 

- My friends asked me to be their social media person for their band, because I never shut up about the beauty of Twitter and Facebook. 

- I know ALL the festivals. (I haven’t been to many, so that loses me hipster points, but hey.)

- I have retro-ish glasses, with solid black frames

- I have a weird-ass, creepy-ass, huge-ass tattoo that has mystical meaning. 

- I carry a notebook wherever I go. It’s a Moleskine. And when I am without it, I start getting separation anxiety. 

- I’ve had pink/purple/turquoise/blue hair, and an undercut. Sometimes simultaneously. Before the mommies started doing it. 

- I have totem jewellery, and feel totally lost without it. Because of this jewellery, I can’t sneak around anywhere – I make too much of a racket. Friends comment on this constantly. 

- I worked at a creative company, which was great. Now that I’ve left, I am doing random part-time work to keep me out of too much trouble while I figure things out. 

- I use the phrase ‘Figure things out’ in reference to my life. 

- I’m uprooting my entire life and moving across the country, with no solid plan, and I’m more excited than afraid. 

- I am ridiculously uptight about things like grammar and spelling. It’s worked out, because I got a boy’s number after a rant about spelling in his bar, but still. 

Incidentally, the same place has the BEST spelling mistake EVER on their menu!

- I’m an epic geek. Whedonite. Shelockian. Tolkeinist. Throney. And soon-to-be Whovian, once I free up space on my hard drive, I suspect. (Yes, I’m late to the Whovian party. It’s ok, though. I’m getting there.)

- The staff at my local Cash Converters know me by name, and greet me with hugs and fist-bumps. 

- I loathe trendy places like Billy the Bums, I think Greenside is becoming too popular with piepie jollers, and I will always love dodgy old Melville, and the Doors in Edenvale. 

- My friends can’t see how I haven’t been able to see my hipsterdom. 

- My style trademarks are slouchy beanies (usually made by moi), t-shirts (back to 42 at last count!!!), and scrappy old shell toe takkies (Moses Wheels, as above) I’ve been wearing since I was 19. Also: I own a fedora woven out of recycled paper, and everyone knows it’s made out of paper, because I can’t shut up about it when I wear it. 

- My dad’s greatest fear for me was that I’d give it all up and join Greenpeace. This is still on my bucket list. 

- I celebrate random things like Earth Hour and Ice Cream Day. Alone, usually. 

- My own mother called me a hipster last week, and is trying to set me up with a bona fide hipster boy. 

- I have a blog. Everyone knows. They call me my blog name as much as my given name. 

- I'm editing this blog in an internet cafe in Melville. While wearing my Moses Wheels, and a beanie I made. It doesn't get more hipster than that, does it??

Now, none of these things has been done with hipsterdom in mind. As I say, I’ve spent a large amount of time vocally denying any hipster tendencies I’ve exhibited over the years. So I’ll call a compromise… I’ll accept being an accidental hipster. It’s not something I set out to be. It’s just something I’ve gradually become. But when you hear it from half a dozen people in the space of a week, I think the time for denial is over. 
I’ve done the anger, bargaining, depression, and denial. So the next stage that I’m working on is acceptance, and staying vigilant about avoiding douchey hipster traits. Wish me luck, Boolings! Who knows? I might even get myself a vintage bicycle when I get to Cape Town?**

* I intend to start sewing again when I get to the Mother City, so look out for awesomeness at markets soon!
**You have my permission to make endless fun of me if I do.