Monthly Archives: July 2011

General

White Lies Bigger Than Us

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I have been ‘in a relationship’ with music for a meaningful amount of time. It gets me and I get it. Or at least I think I do. It’s bigger than us.

I’m the kind of person that gets immersed in a band / a song / a lyric and often feels like I’ve found a song that speaks my very soul.

Recently I have fallen prey to White Lies. Being a fan of Ritual at the best of time, this latest offering takes on new levels of invaluable at times of turmoil and strife. Peppered with the right combo of happy, sad, forlorn, baleful, determined and bravado.

It’s a very chick thing to fall in love with the depth and meaningfulness of the lyrics, but am starting to realise that it’s a little naïve to think that the ‘signs’ were always there, but disguised as mere lyrics until you needed them; like the song undergoes some sort of emotional metamorphosis to get you at just the right time.

Clearly, sometimes the ‘advice’ is perhaps best evaluated in the cold hard light of day – especially when you’re looking to White Lies for the answers to complex questions. Is “gonna write your girl a letter / it’ll make everything better” really the answer or will that just stir up a whole new hornet’s nest, giving his misguided girl leverage to bleat about?

Somehow “You find some best friends / we’ll hold each other / and I’ll turn the bells” leads me to believe that you’re going to be left with just you and the bells, honey. And while you’re so busy turning those bells, hopefully this isn’t ringing others: “If I’m guilty of anything / it’s loving you too much / honey, sometimes love / means getting a little rough / this is not bad love”.

Besides the ambiguities that are thrown out for the sake of romantic clichés, to keep you guessing, make things applicable to a broader audience or just plain thrown in for poetic licence because they rhyme, there are the malleable homonyms, where you read into it exactly what you want to. Like is “past tense” meaning it’s history? Or like uber-tense, just really angry? Are the “headlights on the hillside” a welcome wagon or heading to gun you down?

But I still make space for the White Lies. Because they’re wrong when they say “There’s nothing stranger than to love someone”; it is stranger to love the messages you know are so obviously off-base. But I do love them. And I do enjoy them. Especially where it’s intimate and personal, like alone in my car when I can’t do anything but drive. Because it feels like “It feels like coming home to stay”.

And I sing the same songs telling tales of betrayal and deceit, of loves found, lost and thrown away. Yelling out how “I’ve got a sense of urgency / I’ve got to make this happen”, when all I experience is the opposite. And anyone who claims they don’t do the same (with their own ‘inner voice’ band) would be the delusional to whom I would say “You’d be the one to turn your back and cast the first stone”.

But it’s a one-way street and White Lies doesn’t hear me. Doesn’t hear my silly songs that aren’t lyrical manipulative merde, and probably that make me look more like a country song than an anthem. And so, because this is indeed Bigger Than Us, “I pray for tomorrow / and wait listening out for a reply”.

(… which i would probably get sooner if Harry McVeigh was still my friend on Facebook. Shame, the poor dear probably didn’t understand social networking when he set up his personal profile and unwittingly accepted my friend request. Sadly, now has deleted me, but if he hadn’t I’d expect that his comment on this blog would be something like:

“The only thing I’ve ever found / that’s greater than it always sounds / is this blog” )

I think i’m overdue for making a mix tape!  😉

General

Every blog has its day

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They say we write about what we know about. Although recent evidence seems to point that way, I have to refute it as applicable to me from my current personal point of view. You can’t judge this book by her cover.

This whole blogging adventure has been with the intention of self-discovery in complicated and confusing times. Chucking things down on paper to get the mind muddle out, swirl it all around, maybe make a lucid story and tick one more thing off the Top Of Mind list. Embracing that the (virtual) pen is mightier than the (s)word – and that sometimes (s)words are for fixing, not for fighting!

I’d like to think that that’s a redeeming feature of being the new dog on the blog. At least I’m trying to figure things out. Giving it a go to see what comes out. Not that old dog that’s just rehashing the same old tricks. Challenging myself for new content to create something worthy to reward my good and loyal ‘owners’ with.

Granted, there’s something to be said for working what you’re good and experienced at; predictable rewards for getting the other dogs to jump through your same old dog hoops. But that’s not what this exercise is about. It’s not jumping through hoops, it’s breaking new ground. Doggedly digging and delving in my own mental garden to try and come up with something exceptional.

Something special and meaningful.

Something clean and clear.

Something definitive.

Something that makes people choose to read me.

All that said (by me), they also say that every dog has its day, so let’s hope that this new dog on the blog gets the business end of that old platitude sometime soon! … and if not and I’m just a good old garden-variety bitch, then you now know why!  😀

General

Blogarithm Bonds

There seems to be a lot of home-making activity on the go at the moment. People moving, extending, altering, renovating and trying to get bonds to buy.

While changes are always hard, I’m most empathetic to the people trying to get kick-started (again). The bond situation seems to be getting better, but is still quite dire. Futures balancing in the say-so of bankers who seem to be making decisions based on rules rather than context or logic. The principles are nonsensical when applied in reality: they’ll grant 80% of R1m, so they’ll happily give you R800k… unless you ask them for the R800k in which case they’ll only give you 80% of that! … and who has those kinds of deposits hanging around gathering dust?!

‘Spose the bottomline life lesson is that seeing as you likely can’t change the banker’s decision tree and you’re having to find the extra 20% to contribute anyway, you might as well stretch yourself and get what you really want. Give more to get exponentially more. Be the (exponent) power in the logarithm that makes the fixed base number bigger and better. Give it your all and invest in your future happiness, keeping in perspective that the bonding still accounts for the lion’s share 80%.

And maybe, in an optimistic and improving world, seeing your word as your bond and your enthusiasm as your commitment will be the gateway to being met at least halfway.

General

Getting blogged down in the mess

I had made myself an informal mental commitment to blogging Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings (capturing in the car on my Blackberry during the hour-long drive and uploading when I get to the office). So it was quite jarring this morning when by the time I got into the car, I still had no clue of what to talk about. In Week 2. Out of ideas. Already?!

Sure, I could run through colourful anecdotal accounts of the adventures and misadventures of the weekend… But I’m not sure that would be compelling enough reading… And might soon result in a dwindling number of accomplices! So I resigned myself to putting the blog on hold and reviewing my contribution to the Monday Management Meeting instead.

We had recently changed the format from a feedback session to a forward-focused planning session. Each person notes on the whiteboard the list of things they need to achieve in the week, allocating activities to each project, with an associated amount of time it will take and/or time lapses before it can take place. Then interdependencies are noted by drawing lines between activities showing who they affect… and there we have it: the weekly ‘mess’.

Activities are then slotted into a single combined schedule, divided into daily blocks of mornings and afternoons and presto! Everyone has a plan for themselves for the week and knows what everyone else is doing, expecting and where they have gaps to accommodate ad hocs. The plan is pinned to the board in the open plan and any changes are then just a quick discussion between those involved and scribbling the alteration into an open slot.

So simple. So clear. And we’ve cut the length of the meeting in half and added team context and goal relevance for the full week ahead.

Would be awesome to do something similar for one’s personal life ‘mess’. Putting a bit of thought into what’s on your personal agenda, consciously jotting down your plans and intentions. Communicating your needs so that choices are considered and considerate. Reviewing the last week to see what still needs to be carried over and what can be considered ‘done’ and put to rest for good. Slotting things into the me/you/us compartments, deciding who else fits where in the mess and bedding down a combined course of action. Full disclosure and honestly ranked priorities so that the mapped path is realistic. The unknowns cause confusion, the confusion causes tension and tension creates a world of complication, where molehill details become mountains.

A dude I used to work with had the saying “feedback is the breakfast of champions.” I (now) reckon that feedback is too late. Can’t change what’s already happened. It should be the 20 in life’s 80/20. Proactivity’s the real winner. Offer information openly. Make plans and stick to them. Build a reliable track record and exceptions will be better received. More of the KISS’ing and less of the mess.

Dlogs, General

If dogs had blogs

Imagine the secrets they would tell!

There’d be a fair share of ‘Rags To Riches’ storylines, like “From Alexandra Dog to Top Dog at Cain Castle – The Lola Cain Story” or “I Used To Have A Little, Now I Have A Blog, I’m Just Billy From The Blog” and perhaps Lucky Gill’s life-story written under his nom de plume (which, having not been taught French at the SPCA, he’ll assume to be translated as his ‘other side of the nametag’), as Richard 082(something) and some more self-indulgent one-dog blogs (Kahlua’s Gill’s “Do(g)minating Lapland”, “There’s only one eye in Mickey… and it’s usually closed” etc)

But on the whole, once the Eliza Doglittle tales are told, there’s surely not a whole lot for them to say about themselves.

“Woke up. Well, more accurately, Human woke me up and ousted me from lovely warm bed to have breakfast. Chunks and mince. Again. Went through the ritual farewells (“Be a good girl and stay”? Like, where else am I going to go?!) and used the new dogdoor flap – that was pretty cool – to get outside to nap in the sun. And stayed there all day til Human came back”. Same everyday.

They rely on their humans for threads of colour in their lives… and there’d surely be a fair amount of ‘tell all’ blogs from the more highly-strung emo dogs.

“Dear Dogblog, It’s me, Malory. The Humans brought that big blonde dog here. Again. I really don’t know what they see in her – she’s all legs and ears! The new one’s not so bad, but that shade of orange?! Didn’t know we came in that shade… And all that messy saliva in the car?! Soooo embarrassing. That SPCA place they came from must be a special needs school since they’ve clearly never been taught that we’re only ‘sposed to drool for food, when Pavlova rings a bell. I think it’s time I take matters into my own paws and remind the Home Owners Ass(ociation) that this is a 2 Dog Per House complex! Am off to shout at the gate, Toodles!”

Of course, it’s all fantasy. Dogs are much simpler. They sleep when nothing’s happening, they’re quite uncategorical that their human is the centre of their world and they’re not afraid to demonstrate their unconditional love given the slightest of opportunities. They fiercely protect their territory and have every faith that they will be looked after, rewarded and loved in return. They’re not controlled communicators. They don’t have to gather thoughts and articulate eloquently. They sense threats and invasion of territory and shout about it right then and there. Get it out, do something about it, try and make a change right! …and hope the Human hears, understands and takes desired action.

On the converse though, sometimes to bark is worse than to write. Imagine if Malory was Malory-Anne Frankfurter and she was in the wartime attic. Then maybe not so great to be all shouty and “Mom! Mom! The Germans are coming! Mom! Mom! Mom!” (with Mickey in tow shouting “What? What? WHAT?!” as usual). 😀

General

Neighbourhood blogwatch

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So I started yesterday off well. Moving from Monday mourning to Tuesday morning with a skip in my step and bright and sunny disposition to match the promise of a warm day (enough so to warrant skipping the ‘reach for the sky’ jersey exercise with the dogs, which always leaves Mally so sheepish in her garish orange harlequin number and Moose so comical in his red Sponge Bob ensemble) and ready to head off to earn the daily bread (no striking for me – no collective to do the “give US this day OUR daily bread” thing with!).

… And so, with an “I owe, I owe, it’s off to work I…” went.

A good day, making solid progress on a project that am working on with a great friend and intermittent colleague.

Headed for home to rest my weary as(s)hes. Only to have my house alarm set off on my re-entry to Blue House. Starting a whole new mission.

The procedure is supposed to be: activation –> ADT call centre calls –> give password to deactivate; wrong or no password and they send patrol to you. I hadn’t been using the alarm until recently because I wasn’t living at the house and there were repeated false alarms (now believed to be a spider making a nest of one of the passive sensors eeeuuw), and I had never been allocated a password so every false alarm was a palava. So much so that the Home Owners Ass(ociation) of the complex are trying to pass a resolution that all personal house alarms must be with silent sirens.

Fat chance of that! The alarm is there to protect my person over my possessions and I place no importance in having The Baddies arrested for GBH (or worse) over them scarpering and spreading the Open Sesame to the other 40 thieves about not trying The Noisy House. (You’d think the same HOA who is budgeting Half A Million Rand for security in the next financial year would get this!)

So, the alarm goes off… And nothing…

No call. No complex guard. No ADT patroller.

This irks me. I have just had the system upgraded to secure the extensions and alterations, spent a great deal of time describing my needs, comings and goings and entry, exit and at home requirements to the technician setting the keypad. Now I can’t come in via the garage interleading door – likely the 99% of the time primary access – without having the alarm scream at me?! I think not.

Incensed at the call centre not calling me (when I had a shiny new password all ready to show off), I called them.

I hung up after FIVE MINUTES.

What if it was an intruder?

Tried again, same story.

Have now posted a ‘please call me on their website’. And still nothing.

This from a company that vigorously communicates at me, sending me smses at 7 on a Saturday morning urging me to call them and test my alarm… Monday to Thursday 9 – 3 preferably (and they send it crack o’ dawn Saturday?!), sending me helpful notices that there is a suspicious car in the neighbourhood (‘A white golf with a driver of dark complexion’) and the a regular bland ‘ADT claims victory in Northriding’ self-promotion message.

I get the feeling that somewhere, sometime at ADT Head Office there was a meeting where they decided they needed a CRM programme. “Let’s make our customers feel safe!”… with smses and newsletters. I don’t want a blogwatch! I want a good old fashioned blockwatch! With branding emblazoned on the wall advising baddies that I’m secured (haven’t managed to get these despite several requests – clearly ‘branding’ was their strategy until they discovered ‘communications’), a presence of patrol cars so that the ‘suspicious’ resident knows better than to lurk on my road… and yes, call when you’re supposed to and answer when I call.

I’ll show them false alarm! The gloves are off – literally, as am ranting this on BB in the daily grind(ing halt) – and am ready to (g)rumble. Woe betide, they’d better call me today or me and my reference number are going to buck the system and call at 3.05 and see how they like that!

PS: the bright side in all of this is that same interleading door houses a dog flap for The Sausages, which they use with great aplomb, under the radar of the pet sensors and blissfully unaware of the ADT debacle. Perhaps, seeing as I did get the obscenely large one to accommodate all creatures great and small, I should side-step the complications of attempting to sort this out with the humans and rather try the tricks of the old dogs?

General

Who let the blogs out?

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Today is the first day of forever. ‘Forever’ because I am never moving again! Was finally able to leave The Sausages at Blue House because there are no builders, tilers, painters or plumbers coming. First. Day. Ever.

They say that moving is one of the most stressful things you can do. Building even more so. Then there’s what I did: building back-to-back. 4 months to build the house, 6 weeks to get the amenities and another 5 months of extensions. That’s the better part of a year – and close to 7 for the hounds!

Clearly ‘a change is as good as a holiday’ is a human thing. ‘Spose that makes sense, seeing as a (human) holiday generally means kennels or desertion for the 4-leggeds, while the biped is off swanning and sunning in exotic locales.

My lot have always been spoilt with imported Aunty This or Uncle That to look after them in the comfort of their own home, so all of this back-and-forth while we are technically homeless has been particularly stressful for them. And they are seemingly done with the romantic notion of playgroups and slumber parties in lieu of the stability of their own patch of earth. I can understand that, now being very tired of living out of a togbag in the now with fleeting visits to the future.

Just need to be patient as it will all be over soon enough. Letting the dogs in; letting the blogs out. I am not a prospector. I am a prospect. No more blue. Just Blue House.

House projects are like boys: check you know what you’re getting into, share your plans and know that alterations are always hard… But if you get it right then it’s the warmest safest place that you’ll always want to come back to.

General

Take the blog out your own eye

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I find myself doing something I always swore I wouldn’t. Writing a blog.

Aren’t blogs just self-indulgent ramblings by people about themselves that they foolishly think other people are interested enough to read? Or is that another case where blogging might be exactly that… Except when I do it. Then it’s passionately articulated insights into the human psyche as told from the viewpoint of a shape-shifting oracle. Or something.

Although undecided, I’m going to embrace that double standards are the human condition and I’m going to give this whole thing a whirl anyway, sans content plan, in the hope that somewhere along the way my mind-muddle becomes something worth reading. Incidental expressions of opinion that have no bearing on anything of any gravity.

I don’t intend to overshare nor ‘name and shame’; it’s more a case of mini-purge than holistic catharsis. After all, I am a social creature and my real thrills and therapy will always come from people rather than paper. I am just hoping that this blogging lark creates something of value, with character and charm. Like I hope to be when I grow up…

(PS: Please bear with my clumsy debut. I am painfully aware that I have launched with what I’m sure many many newbies do: the equivalent of tautological letter-writer’s ‘I’m writing to you to tell you that…’. I have always suffered from ‘flashing cursor syndrome’, taking just about as long to write the first sentence as I do to the remainder of the final product. Hopefully, both content and creation will improve over time!)