Tag Archives: down with shower curtains

ChocMilk: On being 25.

I have been on this Earth for exactly 25 years, 1 month and 13 days. At this point in my life, I would have made a serious impact on those around me, my career and my  environment, right? Right? Wrong.

Fresh out of high school, with my optimistically pink-hued shades and training bra, the future I had envisioned for myself was like something from a prime time show about a successful 25ish female with spidery eyelashes, high heels and a glamorous air that wreaked of romance and mystery. Truth is, I would have been utterly dismayed with that kind of life, and even though my glamorous airs are purchased and smell like Escada, I’d rather have it this way than another. I may not have a prime-time worthy life right now, but , after careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that knowing what I know now might have made me considerably more boring.

Things I would have never predicted to happen when I was 17, but did.

I can’t watch porn.
Let me just get this out there, I have never watched porn with company, I can’t even watch a sex scene without feeling the need to disguise the fact that my cheeks are getting flushed with embarrassment. So, on the listless Sunday that Nick suggested we watch some (boys, I don’t get it) I was hyperventilating under my rapidly warming cool exterior.

Me: (thinking) “What do I do in this situation? Look sexy? Do I even know what that looks like? I need a mirror. ZOMG that guy looks douchebaggy. Do I really have to watch him do that? There’s no way those could be real”

Me to Nick:  “There’s no way those could be real”

Nick: “He seems to like them”

That summarises the whole 5 minutes I spent watching porn. As is fashionable, women of my age are supposed to be ‘sexually liberated’ and I thought I had crossed that line the moment I bought condoms from a garage at 2am. NO. They don’t show that part in Sex and the City. I feel inadequate. I should watch some porn.

After 25 years, I still know jack-shit about relationships.
Post hight school, I got into a hot and heavy tête-à-tête with a to-be-accountant. He was the alpha to my beta, the present value that would result in favourable time value of money outputs, regardless of the inflation constant. I was with him for 5 years and barely escaped impending nuptials with my sanity intact. I needed to grow up before I decided to have 2.5 children and a joint bank account. But, even after all this drama, I will never be prepared for new love affairs and I’ve decided that I prefer it that way.

I’m too old for this shit.
Rather, I’m ecstatic that I don’t have to do this, ever again:

  • Two minute noodles
  • Inflatable mattresses
  • Justin Beiber
  • Loud ‘woooo’ noises
  • Glitter anything
  • Scrapbooking

It’s okay to say no.

I am not my degree
When I decided on my career choice, I was 17. I liked the Backstreet Boys and belly tops. What does that girl decide to do with her life? Study finance! Obviously. Oh, my misguided youth… I don’t regret my career choice at all, I just wish I had a bit more exposure to the choices available. I am not my degree any more than blogging makes me a successful writer. It’s never too late to re-invent, it’s the whittling down on choices that’s the mind-bending part.

On winning the lottery
As opposed to several years ago, I won’t spendit all on one massive shopping spree. Also, actually buying a lottery ticket is imperative to winning it.

I don’t want to take over the world anymore
I’d have to wear lycra and come up with a name, an evil laugh and group classifications for my army of minions. Actually, I do have all of the above, except for the lycra.


Writing about my personal life isn’t as tacky as I thought.
In fact, I’m finding this rather therapeutic 🙂

I still feel like I’m a few inches too short to get on the rollercoaster ride, but, at least I wear big-girl bras now!

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The list: Reloaded (but not like the Matrix because that movie was a bit meh)

Things I like:
-Flowcharts, diagrams, highlighters and post-its
: I love the sense of order it brings me. I don’t like it when a post-it loses its stickiness.
-Cheese: I could write an ode to cheese, but I won’t, because it would be a very lame source of distraction and I’d just start craving it. The only cheese I do not like is cottage cheese, I feel it is an imitation of the real thing, plus it looks like cheese puke.
-My iPod: I do not need to elaborate on this one.
Mojo: The cat.
-The ctrl+alt+del function.
-Watching movies under the blankets on a rainy day

-The smell of petrol.
-Pretending as if I’m being watched by some sort of secret organisation or an alien civilisation or ghosts
. (most of the time its ghosts. I do this when I start thinking about some person I haven’t spoken to in a while and then think they’re dead and they’re watching me. This usually happens in the shower for some odd reason, I doubt ghosts are as peverted as I make them out to be)
-Strawberry pops- yum
-People that pay for the evil they have committed. And I mean evil evil, not evil like me, I’m only a small fish in the pond of evilness.
-Developing characters for my many stuffed animals. These are not the most attractive of playthings. As of now I have a Russian mafia don, a pimp, a retired hooker, a fem-me fa-tale, a geek, a cat that humps everything and a Casanova with an obesity problem. They all have names and backgrounds. Most of the time they end up killing each other. I gave them away recently 😦
-The way my baby cousin speaks. She can’t pronounce her r’s and h’s. I swear its the most adorable thing ever.
-Observing people. People are strange, they never are as straight forward as they appear to be. I sit and wonder… and then wonder what they perceive me to be, then pretend I’m being watched. (see above)
-Eva Green. I want to marry her. I do not have any specific reason as to why I want to, I just do.
-Whipped Cream.
-Clear and comprehensive financial statements.
-My olive body butter.
I have a thing for papaya body butter now though.
-Organising things and messing them up: Especially my cupboards. I have to forcibly remove myself from the filing room at work because I’d just go and rearrange everything for no reason.
-Picking the mascara off my eyelashes.
-Anti-heroes, heroes, people that want to take over the world, people with alter-egos, people that parade around their local neighbourhoods in home made crime-fighter oufits
-Watermelon Martinis
I could watch cartoons over normal television if I had a choice.
-The word ‘delicious’
-Writing nonsensical ramblings
-Dancing around in my room, sometimes playing air guitar, sometimes not.

Things I don’t like:
Katie Perry’s ‘I kissed a girl’-
This is probably one of the most annoying songs and its so catchy, to make matters worse. More importantly, it has given rise to the return of ‘bisexual chic’. Please ladies, if you intend on being bi, don’t do it for the attention alone.
-Forgetting my tea for a bit and then drinking it when its cold.
-Bad sound quality.
Especially when some people put hectic bass in their cars and think its cool when their windows rattle… I’m all for earth moving and such, but not when it affects the sound quality. Or that robotic spastic sound of bad copies of songs, I don’t care how beautiful the song is, if its of inferior quality, I’d rather not listen to it.
-People that continue their conversation even though you are busy jabbering on about the same point and refuse to listen to what you have to say, later saying exactly what you said. It is annoying.
-People that think ‘Global warming’ is a conspiracy. Seriously, these people need a ‘common sense slap’.
-Bad remakes of really good songs. Most of the remakes of Michael Jackson’s stuff. He may be a plastic man/boy lover, but his stuff was awesome.
-The smell of raw eggs: For this reason, I can’t have my eggs done any way but scrambled.
-Shower curtains. With dolphins on them (shudder)
-That Sarah Palin woman
-Girls that wear low cut pants and let their bits hang out. Please, I’d rather not see your love handles, cover that shit up.
-That awkward moment after you introduce yourself to someone and they’re busy taking in your appearance and you don’t know what to do in return.
conscientiously typing the lyrics to the song I’m listening to in my emails and such. (where soul meets bodeeeeeeeeee)
-When I have to sit next to an unknown person and their arm touches mine
-Windows Vista
-Watching a sex scene in a movie when my parents are in the room.
I know I’m way too old to be feeling awkward about this, but it is my least favorite thing to do.
-Hangovers. I hate them, like a lot lot.
-People that deny the obvious. If you feel the need to ask whether your ass looks big in something, it probably does, and if it does not and you’re just asking because you want the other person to say it doesn’t, you are a poser, and you deserve a big ass. So Ha!

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