Tag Archives: I clicked all the hyperlinks on Kant’s page and I still don’t know much

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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Fronti nulla fides [Part II]

I love books like this one. Not books about propaganda or mayhem, but ones that make you think about certain aspects of your life for hours on end. In fact, there are hidden messages in almost every form of written text, if you choose to read between the lines, I skill I fear many are losing.

I recently had the pleasure of reading a few fairy tales to my little cousins. On the surface, I was doing quite a reasonable interpretation of a pantomime drama queen, internally, I was beginning to wonder about the message behind the insane drivel I chose to read to them and how much of it would be to their benefit.

Cinderella: A damsel in distress, harassed by two wicked sisters and a ghastly step-mom for most of her life, her story is one filled with woe. After an interlude with a wand-yielding old lady, she gets lucky with a prince and lives happily ever after. They all live happily ever after these fairy-tale people.

Where is the moral of the story?

I thought about this for a while… and was surprised at how very intelligent I am. Not really, this is a lie. I was surprised at how easily I sifted through all the pixie dust and found something quite viable.

See, this Cinderella chick, she was a nice person. She did all the chores in the house and slept in the fireplace. [Maybe she thought that if she stared at the coal long enough, it would turn into diamonds or something, I don’t know, those middle-age people were a bit nutty]. Conclusion: you should be nice to others even though they treat you like shit because its the morally acceptable thing to do. Also: people love the underdog.

But then *dum dum dummmm* in comes a fairy god-mother. Her spell makes Cinderella pretty BUT it only lasts for a few hours. I think the message behind this is that occasionally in your life you get people/situations that gives you a helping hand but you can’t depend on it because it too will fade and after that its up to you to make yourself happy.

So Cinderella meets the Prince and he’s smitten, insane with lust, mouth agape at the sheer awesomeness of her newly magic-ified glory, blah blah. I think this prince is a superficial prick to be honest but I won’t go on to insult him because he’s not part of the story (he’s a Daryll). It took me a while to figure this one out, and I was mighty proud of myself when I did: We are all diamonds in the rough, all it takes is a bit of elbow grease and we could shine like a million suns or be used in telescopes or be used to shine other diamonds (these people are calles ‘life coaches’ or mothers or Oprah)

What about the ugly family members? Well, there is nothing to say about them. They treated Cinderella like shit and deserve to be left in the house, washing their own socks. The whiney bitches. That is karma my darlings, I’ve been on the arse-end of it many times to recognise it when I see it.

See Mr Anderson: 4 hidden messages! I’m over thinking things as usual I know. I can’t help it, its the book, its making me re-assess my perceptions of life and such.

*sigh* I love these types of books.

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Fronti nulla fides

The people that came up with the phrase ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ are actually very clever.

I’m reading this > The Master and Margarita

To say that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew is an understatement. There I was, aimlessly wasting time in a book store, when I felt myself ‘drawn’ to this book. I wouldn’t say ‘drawn’ exactly, it caught my eye because of the funky looking cat and I thought ‘hey, I like cats, how bad could this book be?’ Pfft.

The summary at the back goes like this…
 The devil comes to Moscow wearing a fancy suit. With his disorderly band of accomplices – including a demonic, gun-toting tomcat – he immediately begins to create havoc.

Looks pretty fun doesn’t it. I’m no devil worshipper, but I am a fan of chaos, and as I stated before – cats. Adding to this, I don’t know much about the ‘Moscownians’ so I thought I’d brush up on my post-Stalin hisory and maybe get a few (well educated) laughs. I’ve yet to laugh T.T

On comes page 11: the devil disguised as a foreigner with some really expensive dental bling, mentions ‘Kant’s proof’. I don’t know this Kant person. Off I went to Wikipedia for answers, and all it left me with were more questions.

Observe: ‘His most important work is the Critique of Pure Reason, a critical investigation of reason itself. It encompasses an attack on traditional metaphysics and epistemology, and highlights Kant’s own contribution to these areas.’Metaphysics? Epistemology? Wa?


Two hours later… and I still haven’t moved past page 11. There are 564 pages in this book, I have a feeling I’m going to get through it in a year. Maybe after that I’ll take over the world. Or give up trying to make people believe I’m really very intelligent and start my own line of beaded necklaces.

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