Growth Is Relative

I'm 25. I don't mention my age to show off the fact that I'm still pretty much blessed with the body of my teen years (I just showed off didn't I?) But rather, I mention my age purely because in most instances it "ain't nothing but a number".

 I had this beautiful illusion that at 25 I would be swept away by my prince charming, married with 8 gorgeous children while maintaining a body that made all the other soccer moms green with envy. I have found the prince but no ring or babies and I'm happy with the pace at which things are going. People often link age with maturity, a certain readiness to commit to the ways of adulthood but just as I'm still the host of the body of an 18 year old, my mannerisms also keep traveling back to my teen years. I realize that popping the balloon of expectations about how my life should've turned out has helped open my eyes to certain realities about myself. Such as: 1. I'm not ready for marriage. As a girlfriend I'm still afforded room to slack in some departments but as a wife my A game has to be on point ALL THE TIME

2. I'm not ready to be a mother. I'm a great babysitter and love children but I'm do not have the emotional capacity to care for a child and there is no return policy for children

3. I don't enjoy kitchens. I know my way around one but having to provide scrumptious, nutritious meals for my family EVERYDAY would drive me to utter lunacy.

4. I still want to try kill myself before the babies come. I want to sky dive or bungee jump without having to think of what will happen to my children should I die(see what I did there?)

5. I don't want to share my husband with the babies just yet. Who is going to pick me up and swing me about senselessly?

All that is saying is that I'm selfish and need to learn how to share my toys.

 Now don't get me wrong, I would love to have the intimate wedding and raise those gorgeous babies(2 now seeing how the economy is ruining my initial plan) but right now the demand on my ovaries by certain individuals (namely my younger sister) have to be put on hold because simply put I'm not ready for the 24/7 kind of deal. The prince and I will make "till death do us part" look like a walk in the park when the stars align and I grow up and we will make an awesome set of parents, God willing but right now I'm in love with our friendship, the evenings where bread and eggs make for a romantic dinner, sniffing socks and wearing the least funky and the late nights spent burning calories on the dance floor of some crowded club.

I'm an adult but I'm not a grown up.

Live Laugh Love

Growing Pains

It is another yarn-filled Monday morning void of any happy feelings except the hopeful countdown to Friday. Why do we count down to Friday? When we are born, we are without cognition of what the world has to offer us. We are wrapped in the loving sheath of protective arms that loved ones provide and our only instruction is crying…let the adults figure out what it means. Then we become inquisitive toddlers who crawl into all sorts of nooks and crannies and put into our mouths all sorts of cuisine, mostly dirty items that give the adults a fright, and our instruction now comes from a set of coo’s, smiley coo means I agree and angry coo means I’m a ticking time bomb of tears.

Without explaining to you the growth cycle of a child like you are ill-informed, let me just get to my point. For a small portion of our lives we love being picked up and taken care of but the moment we realize that we can stand, run and express clearly our desires we rush towards independence with the speed of a freight train. We wriggle out of the warm embrace of loved ones, we spit out our food and eventually we turn into hormonal teens chasing the cool, praying for larger breasts and fewer pimples, banging doors and wishing that the freedom of varsity could come tomorrow. We have discovered our voice, or so we think we have, and spend a lot of our time shouting to get our point across because nobody can pretend to know us better than we know ourselves, our parents were born age 45 anyways so what do they know about the trials and tribulations of growing pains? Why hasn't Peter called me back?

After what seems like an 18 year long epic fight scene from the movie 300, we gain freedom, get into varsity, finish varsity and live pocket money free as an employee at some company. At first it’s fun, we pay tax, buy cars, party up a storm and tweet pictures of the expensive bottles of alcohol we can now afford. We love being in our own place away from the prying eyes of our guardians and some of us even get that tattoo that would have gotten you thrown out your mother’s house. It is great to be a grown up! Life, of course, has a way of putting things into perspective and after a while you notice that you spend more hours working, your face looks older than your years, your life, including the parties, becomes a mundane routine, your body feels like a ton of bricks every Monday morning and you don’t often agree with the bills paid for on your behalf but because you came into the scene as a “balla” you swipe, grin and bear it.

You are now nostalgic and want to revert back to the good old days when everyday was new and filled with such vibrancy and possibility. You want to have a scheduled nap time, the responsibility of what you eat and wear must be transferred, after a long drive to and from the office you want to get home and have someone lift you and spin you around senselessly while they tell you that you are the smartest and most beautiful creation. You no longer want to worry about taxes, rent and gas. Life would be blissful if you wore part a party hat, swimming costume and wellingtons to work, it would make your colleagues jealous because your parents were the coolest to let you go out like that. Every day would be a Friday and no more would you partake in the countdown to the weekend.

All I’m really saying is that life is precious, a gift that only comes by once. Enjoy the moments of being cared for thoroughly so when it is your turn to be a caretaker you will look at your crying children, remember to give to them the same warmth and understanding your guardians gave you and figure it out…

Live laugh love

Life after Exams



Yes...this girl will be a postgraduate



The past two weeks have been eventful but not in the way the average 25yr old would describe the word. I did not party, go on holiday, get a better paying job or a pair of killer shoes. I wrote exams. Yup, I had to secure my place in the academic sphere and willhopefully be amongst the 2013 September Btech graduates at T.U.T. The reason I’m blogging about boring old exams is because I am still angry at them and myself and I’m not over it and since writing is cheaper than therapy I want to vent.

After getting my diploma I swore off school but guilt set in when I thought of how long it took me to get a three year long diploma (mum calls me a doctor in building science) I decided that I would redeem myself by pursuing the Btech degree and do it in the set amount of time, one year. First semester began and I was all talk about how my study technique would change; I would revise my work every day to ease the pressure of studying at the last minute and I would pass with flying colours…A whole lot of hot air, it’s a surprise I did not float away with my ambitions.

Needless to say I did not adhere to my new code to academic redemption, instead I sat at home, ate tons of ice-cream and used my mirror as a pretend stage where I threw enchanting dance concerts and had my many followers waver their “We love you Dice” banners and throw underwear on stage (it’s a fantasy but judge away lol). The downside of any fantasy, if you live it long enough, is that reality no longer seems necessary and you try your hardest to forget the goals and objective that you proudly penned down. You go to classes in a state of autopilot and then you FAIL! I did not qualify to write one subject’s exam, out of three papers, in the first semester and that put the fear of Jesus in me and my single parent’s struggle made me wake up, smell the coffee and put my back into it!

Second semester was more challenging. I had four subjects, had to re-register Construction Management and classes clashed with my development classes, I was on campus five days a week and my study technique still had not changed but I managed much better when exams came along. I had to decide to stop victimizing myself, telling myself that the world is out to get me and that I’d never cope with the extra subject and a fulltime job. I had to get out of the way of my own success. I did not become a ballerina like I wanted but the talent is still here and I’m using it, I’m not stupid so clearly it was time for an attitude adjustment and I really do not want to become a varsity “Van Wilde type” fossil.

The latest is that exams tried to assault me but I have a feeling that the pressure of a fulltime job and student career were exactly what I needed to show myself that I really can do whatever it is I put my mind to and that even if my study technique sucks ass, it was the same method that helped me squeeze through that small gap where I could see a flicker of light.

I don’t have my results yet so I’m not doing any joyous backflips but I put in the work and I just need the results to reflect that.

I’m currently contemplating the Master’s Program at school…will I ever learn?

Live Laugh Love