I'm writing to tell you...

...I have nothing to say. I haven't had anything to say in quite some time.

PATTOTE: Better living through um. Well. I'm not really sure.

Open Question

Is it or is it not crazy(ish) to need to wait for the phone to ring at least twice, four times for a double ring, before picking it up?

PATTOTE: Better living through ringing twice - and then switching the lights on and off at least ten times before leaving a room.

Raunchy Regency Reads

I like bodice-rippers as much as the next person. Who hasn't flicked through a Mills&Boon equivalent to get to all the lascivious bits? But I thought that a book based on Pride and Prejudice, a novel I love, respect, and re-read at least once a year, would be a little more, hmmm, what's the word? Good? Readable? Enjoyable?

Instead, Mr Darcy takes a Wife is pretty gross actually. And cliched. There should be a limit enforced as to the number of times the words "carnal pleasure", "carnal desire" and "carnal knowledge" can be used per page. Three is too many.

It's rare for me to dislike a book enough to stop reading it. I'm a literary masochist, I can't help myself. So in the spirit of masochism I am going to find and read as many of these sequels (and there are a plethora) as I can find.

Carrie Bebris, you'd better not disappoint.

PATTOTE: Better living through bodice-rippers, as long as they maintain their decorum.

Booker Longlist 2007

The Booker Longlist for 2007 has been released. According to an article on GuardianUnlimited, most of the books focus on history and memory as a theme. I'm ashamed to say that other than On Chesil Beach, I don't recognise many of the titles. I'm setting myself the goal of reading them all in the next year.

The longlist in full:

Darkmans by Nicola Barker (Fourth Estate)

Self Help by Edward Docx (Picador)

The Gift Of Rain by Tan Twan Eng (Myrmidon)

The Gathering by Anne Enright (Jonathan Cape)

The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid (Hamish Hamilton)

The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies (Sceptre)

Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones (John Murray)

Gifted by Nikita Lalwani (Viking)

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan, (Jonathan Cape)

What Was Lost by Catherine O'Flynn (Tindal Street)

Consolation by Michael Redhill (William Heinemann)

Animal's People by Indra Sinha (Simon & Schuster)

Winnie & Wolf by AN Wilson (Hutchinson)

PATTOTE: Better living through book challenges - I'm itching to get going.

What's a Marrow With You?

Standing at Nottinghill Gate station the other day, a chap shambled past me with the most enormous marrow I have ever seen under his arm. He seemed quite unperturbed. I wonder where he got it from. A shop devoted to the care and sale of immensely overgrown vegetables? A caring granny with too much time (and fertilizer) on her hands? Oh, I know what it was. It was an animatronic marrow. Yes! It was a robot marrow and he was taking it to the set of it's new movie "In the Marrow: A diary of dicing, julienning, and sir-fries". I'm so glad I figured it out, it was bothering me.

PATTOTE: Better living through giant vegetables. Especially potatoes.

Turning One

Curtis-the-Fetus is officially a year old today. He's a walking, grinning, trouble-making, tiny person now. A year old and he has a personality. A year old and he already has his own little quirks. A year old, with all the potential in the world. That makes me happy.

PATTOTE: Better living through the heir to all I survey and intend to own.

Unspoilt

It was an all-Harry Potter weekend. The Sister and I queued for the last installment and then raced to start reading. She admitted defeat at about 2am but I managed to finish it. I wanted to get it read before the end got leaked. I'm not going to go into it, because I'm waiting for The Best Friend to read it, but I really enjoyed it.

The movie, however, was not as great as it could have been. Prisoner of Azkaban remains victorious as far as I'm concerned.

I'm glad there are more movies to look forward to, cause otherwise the end of this wonderful, imaginative, heartbreaking series would be a lot worse.

Escape

There's something soothing about the world created in books, something comforting about the reality we inhabit while we read. Coming out of one of my recent reads, I found myself quite upset that my interlude with that other world was over. I know, I know, pick up another book and you're back in that other world almost immediately. But that's the thing, isn't it? Why the eagerness to constantly enter that other world? That other world is full of demons, monsters, horrible people and horrible situations, just like this one. That other world is full of funny situations, quirky people and brilliant inventions, just like this one. Reading is not really any kind if escape. It's more a suspension of present, a brief period of standing still, a much-loved and welcomed moment of peace. It's not what you're reading that matters, it's the act of reading that does.

Book Bargains

I ended up at a carboot over the weekend - one man's junk and all that. The quest to replace my lost treasures (my sorely missed collection of books) is well on its way.

I managed to find:

The Malory Towers series by Enid Blyton
The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and Roverandom by JRR Tolkein
Notes on a Scandal by Zoe Heller
Third Girl by Agatha Christie
Swallows and Amazons by Arthur Ransome
King Solomon's Mines by H Rider Haggard
Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by CS Lewis
My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara

PATTOTE: Better living through CHEAP books and the people who sell them.

The Tale of the Dead Duck

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she lay her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.
After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, your Duck, Cuddles, has passed away."
The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead," he replied.
"How can you be so sure," she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."
The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room, and returned a few moments later with a black Labrador Retriever.
As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.
The vet patted the dog and took it out, and returned a few moments later with a cat.
The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.
The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."
Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.
The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "£150!" she cried, "£150 just to tell me my duck is dead!!
The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you had taken my word for it, the bill would have been £20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan it comes to £150."

Words I like

Glum
Triskadeskaphobia
Coalesce
Acquiesce
Numbnuts
Vindictive

PATTOTE: Better living through trawling the dictionary for good words.

Accidents and Emergencies

The best part about sitting in casualty is the people. People have some fascinating problems, and they discuss them very openly in front of the twenty other people sitting on the hard benches or buying unhealthy stuff from the hospital vending machines. I just wish that they'd speak up a bit. I'm listening over here people. I'm trying to eavesdrop and you're not cooperating.

Yes you, lady with the blood on her sleeve and the bandaged arm, who looked like she'd come straight from a high-falutin' do, except for her truly crappy shoes. Or you, kiddie with the smashed nose. Your mother says you whacked yourself in the nose with a plank, but you look more like some bullies set on you after school and your mum is trying to cover up. And you, chickie with the hurt back, why were you telling your mother that they kept making you push it in, even though you didn't want to?

Enquiring minds want to know.

PATTOTE: There was another kid in there with a broken collar bone who claimed to have fallen off a mountain. There are no mountains in Reading.

Ahem

My new supervisor has Project Management for Dummies lying on her desk. That's like having a neurosurgeon read Nerves for Dummies right before an operation.

PATTOTE: Better living through Dictating for Dummies

Clicky

Something I found on the 50books blog that I thought you might like:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFAWR6hzZek

PATTOTE: Better living under a rock.

Spice up your life!

Of all things, the Spice Girls are coming together for a reunion tour. Do you think their horrible platform shoes will make a comeback too?

Ok, I'll admit it, I'm the teensiest bit curious to hear what they'll come up with. And yes, I've got Wannabe stuck in my head. I'm feeling nostalgic. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Blackwell's

I'm still working on finding a job, but since arriving in this damp and misty land I have comforted myself by enjoying the great bookshops - second-hand, new, antiquarian, bizarre. In addition to the ubiquitous Waterstones, I've also found Blackwell's, which focuses on fantasy, sci fi, with a heavy dollop of manga. I'm pretty meh on the manga, but fell in love when I found the final installment of a trilogy which hasn't actually been released back home yet, Voice of the Gods by Trudi Canavan. Admittedly it has the tawdry US cover, but still! (Aside: Dear US publishers - tawdry covers are what gives fantasy such a bad name. She's a priestess, not an Orion slave girl.)

They also have some really great miniatures and models. Would you like a phaser for Christmas? Would you like a Dalek as a doorstop? Want a life-size cardboard cut-out of David Tennant to kiss goodnight? Blackwell's is for you!

PATTOTE: I wish I had never discovered Dr Who. Do I really need another obsession? Not so much.

Up, up and away.

Hello, my chickens. All those loyal readers out there. All two of you. I've been out of touch again, like the bad blogger I am. My only excuse is that I was pinned under the weight of my belongings all week and couldn't get to the computer. It's true - the Complete Works of Jane Austen pinned my left arm, while the Complete Gilmore Girls Season 2 DVD Boxed Set held down my right. I flailed awhile but I was fighting a losing battle with the cupboard eating my clothes and I decided to give up. I was liberated eventually and have been staying with The Sister and her family. It was brilliant, despite sundry nappy-changing traumas. Who knew so much crap could come out of one baby? I didn't.

Over the weekend I went helicoptering with Kristy and Alison. It was totally awesome. We flew from Maidenhead, over Leavesdon studios, where they film the Harry Potter movies. I saw the Privet Drive set, and what looked like The Burrow. The weather was predictably horrible but the flight was totally worth it. And don't I look awesome in my headphones?



PATTOTE: Better living through being high. Off the ground, you ingrates!

This is the first day of my life

I arrived in England this morning at 6:55 on an overcrowded plane from Johannesburg. Virgin provides so-so food, fantastic entertainment and the smallest economy-class seats ever.

I only told The Sister I was arriving today, so I could make it a surprise for the The Parents. It was worth it to see their faces. And now I'm here. And strangely, it doesn't feel strange at all. I had a pang as the plane landed. "I don't live in South Africa anymore." Maybe as the excitement wears off and I start looking for a job, reality will beat me over the head with a mace. But for now I'm just fine with being excited.

PATTOTE: Better living through world domination. I have to start somewhere.

Free at Last!

I got my passport!
Free at last, free at last, no thanks to the Home Office, free at last!

Three things

Today I saw:

1) Children playing with a wire bulldozer they had obviously made themselves. It was very cleverly controlled with a piece of string. A bit of genius really.

2) A blue and green crayfish. I've never seen that before.

3) A grey bunny, rescued by The Best Friend and her mother from being on a braai tonight. She's now called Cinders.

Meeeeeeeemmmmmmeeeeeee

What does your name mean?

Hmmm, do I do Elizabeth or Liz? Let's go for Elizabeth.

E: You are easy to fall in love with.
L: Everyone loves you. (cause I'm easy. To fall in love with)
I : You Are Great in bed. (see above)
Z : Always ready. (explains above)
A : You like to drink. (definitely explains above)
B : You like people. (don't know about that)
E: You are easy to fall in love with.
T : You're loyal to those you love. (only because everybody loves me)
H : You have very good personality and good looks. (oh stop... *preens*)

A : You like to drink.
B : You like people.
C: you are Great In bed.
D : You like to drink.
E: You are easy to fall in love with.
F : You are dead sexy.
G : You never let people tell you what to do.
H : You have very good personality and good looks.
I : You Are Great in bed.
J : People Adore you
K : You're wild and crazy.
L: Everyone loves you.
M : Best kisser ever.
N : You like to drink.
O: Awesome kisser.
P : You are popular with all types of people.
Q : You are a hypocrite.
R : Easy to fall in love with.
S : Fuckin crazy.
T : You're loyal to those you love.
U : You really like to chill.
V : You're not judgemental.
W : You are very broad minded.
X : You never let people tell you what to do.
Y: Best friend anyone could ask for.
Z : Always ready

Knock Knock

I'm here.

The End of the Beginning

My days at work are numbered, as are my days with internet access. I'm hoping to keep posting in Mozambique, but I might also take a little hiatus, so check back in a month.

I'm really excited about leaving, but a little sad as well. I felt the same when I left Rhodes. This is a concrete end to one part of my life, and the beginning of another. It would be wrong if I wasn't a bit sad.

But I will miss Cape Town. I'll miss:

The Mountain, and its serenity, its steadfastness, its ability to keep me going in the right direction. Seriously - no matter what city I'm in, I automatically search the skyline for a familiar landmass to orientate myself by. Without the mountain I have no idea what direction I'm facing. I forsee much getting lost in my future.

Butler's Pizza, the i-ching of pizza. You can keep your Debonairs, your Scooters. Give me a standard olive, salami, garlic and avo guacamole, the hottie delivery guy and check back in the morning.

The trains, although they might be late. I'll miss the hawkers with their "chipsy, juicy, spookies" and the evangelists; the one on the way home who likes to talk about burning in hell, a lot, and the one on the way in who calls everyone beloved. The policemen who travel in packs of five, taking free rides but not actually keeping an eye on anything. The two guide dogs who carefully conceal themselves under the seats but can't resist sniffing at every passerby, even if they are "professional animals".

Stardust. Theatrical dining. Brilliant margaritas. Best birthday ever.

The flower sellers on Adderley street, who look like they come from a previous century.

Newlands cricket stadium. The sight of the pitch still gives me a thrill and makes me think of my first game there with The Father - Brian Lara out for a duck; Jacques Kallis scoring a century.

Driving to Simon's Town along the coast, with the mountain climbing steeply on one side and the sea rough on the other. The lovely old Victorian mansions and tiny fishermen's cottage. I won't miss the hordes of tourists though.

Swimming of Boulder's Beach with the penguins shooting through the water nearby.

The seals chilling on their platforms at the waterfront, and yelling at each other when someone tramples on a flipper.

The view of the city from De Waal drive, especially at night. The lights are so beautiful.

The waterfall in Cecilia Plantation.

Going to build houses and getting covered in cement

Taxis and all the hilarity associated with them. The guards, many of whom appear to be stoned. Being tightly packed between two huge people while travelling at 100km an hour in rush hour traffic. Being nominated as the person who makes change when the guard buggers off to parts unknown. Holding a complete stranger's bag of frozen chicken on your lap to make more room.

Hearing English, Afrikaans, Swahili, French, Xhosa and German, all in one trip to work.

Seeing Table Moutain from the window of the plane and feeling a lurch, because this home and always will be.

A Movie Meme

This was stolen from Stewart on Facebook.

Supposedly, if you have seen more than 85 films, you have no life. There are 239 films on this list. Copy this list, go to your own facebook account, paste this as a note. Then, put x's next to the films you've seen, add them up, change the header adding your number, and click post at the bottom. Have fun.

(X) Rocky Horror Picture Show
(X) Grease
(X) Pirates of the Caribbean
(X) Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest
( ) Boondock Saints
(X) Fight Club
(X) Starsky and Hutch
(X) Neverending Story
( ) Blazing Saddles
( ) Airplane

Total: 7

(X) The Princess Bride
(X) Anchor Man
(X) Napoleon Dynamite
(X) Labyrinth
( ) Saw
( ) Saw II
( ) White Noise
(X) White Oleander
(X) Anger Management
(X) 50 First Dates
(X) The Princess Diaries
(X) The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement

Total so far: 16

(X) Scream
( ) Scream 2
(X) Scream 3
( ) Scary Movie
( ) Scary Movie 2
( ) Scary Movie 3
( ) Scary Movie 4
(X) American Pie
(X) American Pie 2
(X) American Wedding
( ) American Pie Band Camp

Total so far: 21

(X) Harry Potter 1
(X) Harry Potter 2
(X) Harry Potter 3
(X) Harry Potter 4
( ) Resident Evil 1
( ) Resident Evil 2
(X) The Wedding Singer
(X) Little Black Book
(X) The Village
(X) Lilo & Stitch

Total so far: 29

(X) Finding Nemo
(X) Finding Neverland
(X) Signs
(X) The Grinch
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
( ) White Chicks
( ) Butterfly Effect
(X) 13 Going on 30
(X) I, Robot
( ) Robots

Total so far: 35

( ) Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
( ) Universal Soldier
( ) Lemony Snicket: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
(X) Along Came Polly
( ) Deep Impact
( ) KingPin
(X) Never Been Kissed
(X) Meet The Parents
( ) Meet the Fockers
( ) Eight Crazy Nights
( ) Joe Dirt
( ) KING KONG

Total so far: 38

(X) A Cinderella Story
(X) The Terminal
(X) The Lizzie McGuire Movie
( ) Passport to Paris
(X) Dumb & Dumber
( ) Dumber & Dumberer
( ) Final Destination
( ) Final Destination 2
( ) Final Destination 3
( ) Halloween
( ) The Ring
( ) The Ring 2
( ) Surviving X-MAS
( ) Flubber

Total so far: 42

(X) Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
(X) Practical Magic
(X) Chicago
( ) Ghost Ship
( ) From Hell
(X) Hellboy
( ) Secret Window
(X) I Am Sam
( ) The Whole Nine Yards
( ) The Whole Ten Yards

Total so far: 47

(X) The Day After Tomorrow
( ) Child's Play
( ) Seed of Chucky
( ) Bride of Chucky
(X) Ten Things I Hate About You
( ) Just Married
(X) Gothika
( ) Nightmare on Elm Street
( ) Sixteen Candles
(X) Remember the Titans
(X) Coach Carter
( ) The Grudge
( ) The Grudge 2
(X) The Mask
( ) Son Of The Mask

Total so far: 53

( ) Bad Boys
( ) Bad Boys 2
( ) Joy Ride
( ) Lucky Number Slevin
(X) Ocean's Eleven
( ) Ocean's Twelve
(X) Bourne Identity
(X) Bourne Supremecy
( ) Lone Star
(X) Bedazzled
( ) Predator I
( ) Predator II
( ) The Fog
(X) Ice Age
( ) Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
( ) Curious George

Total so far: 58

(X) Independence Day
( ) Cujo
( ) A Bronx Tale
( ) Darkness Falls
( ) Christine
(X) ET
( ) Children of the Corn
( ) My Bosses Daughter
(X) Maid in Manhattan
(X) War of the Worlds
( ) Rush Hour
( ) Rush Hour 2

Total so far: 62

( ) Best Bet
(X) How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
(X) She's All That
(X) Calendar Girls
(X) Sideways
(X) Mars Attacks
( ) Event Horizon
(X) Ever After
( ) Wizard of Oz
(X) Forrest Gump
( ) Big Trouble in Little China
(X) The Terminator
(X) The Terminator 2
(X) The Terminator 3

Total so far: 72

(X) X-Men
(X) X-2
(X) X-3
(X) Spider-Man
(X) Spider-Man 2
( ) Sky High
( ) Jeepers Creepers
( ) Jeepers Creepers 2
( ) Catch Me If You Can
(X) The Little Mermaid
(X) Freaky Friday
( ) Reign of Fire
(X) The Skulls
(X) Cruel Intentions
( ) Cruel Intentions 2
(X) The Hot Chick
(X) Shrek
(X) Shrek 2

Total so far: 84

( ) Swimfan
(X) Miracle on 34th street
( ) Old School
(X) The Notebook
(X) K-Pax
( ) Krippendorf's Tribe
(X) A Walk to Remember
( ) Ice Castles
( ) Boogeyman
(X) The 40-year-old Virgin

Total so far: 89

(X) Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring
(X) Lord of the Rings The Two Towers
(X) Lord of the Rings Return Of the King
(X) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
(X) Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
(X) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

Total so far: 95

( ) Baseketballs
( ) Hostel
( ) Waiting for Guffman
( ) House of 1000 Corpses
( ) Devils Rejects
( ) Elf
( ) Highlander
( ) Mothman Prophecies
(X) American History X
( ) Three

Total so Far: 96

( ) The Jacket
( ) Kung Fu Hustle
( ) Shaolin Soccer
( ) Night Watch
(X) Monsters Inc.
(X) Titanic
(X) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
( ) Shaun Of the Dead
( ) Willard

Total so far: 99

( ) High Tension
( ) Club Dread
( ) Hulk
( ) Dawn Of the Dead
(X) Hook
(X) Chronicles Of Narnia The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe
(X) 28 days later
( ) Orgazmo
( ) Phantasm
( ) Waterworld

Total so far: 102

(X) Kill Bill vol 1
(X) Kill Bill vol 2
( ) Mortal Kombat
( ) Wolf Creek
(X) Kingdom of Heaven
( ) the Hills Have Eyes
( ) I Spit on Your Grave aka the Day of the Woman
( ) The Last House on the Left
( ) Re-Animator
( ) Army of Darkness

Total so far: 105

(X) Star Wars Ep. I The Phantom Menace
(X) Star Wars Ep. II Attack of the Clones
(X) Star Wars Ep. III Revenge of the Sith
(X) Star Wars Ep. IV A New Hope
(X) Star Wars Ep. V The Empire Strikes Back
(X) Star Wars Ep. VI Return of the Jedi
( ) Ewoks Caravan Of Courage
( ) Ewoks The Battle For Endor

Total so far: 111 (raises feet for a nelson)

(X) The Matrix
(X) The Matrix Reloaded
(X) The Matrix Revolutions
( ) Animatrix
( ) Evil Dead
( ) Evil Dead 2
( ) Team America: World Police
(X) Red Dragon
(X) Silence of the Lambs
(X) Hannibal

Total so far: 117

I've seen 117 of these movies

Yup, no life. But I knew that already. I take issue with this list though. There's too high a proportion of horror/thriller types, so not really fair.

The family that watches cricket together, stays at each other's throats until the end of the World Cup

This morning, this little gem from The Sister's Fiancé arrived in my inbox:

---- Original Message -----
From: The Sister's Fiancé
To: Elizabeth Ellis
Subject: BREAKING NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi Elize,

I have just seen this important information on the web and wanted
to let you know.

A report released today has intensified the procedure for South
Africans to obtain status in the United Kingdom. People wanting to come across have to pledge allegiance to queen and country. However, a leaked document has come to light that has changed the script in the pledge below:

I________pledge allegiance to Queen Elizabeth and the country of Great
Britain, I promise to uphold the law and respect the country and if
called upon will defend the country with my life.
I also promise to respect and idolise all of the British people and show
the utmost respect to all of the sports heros of my new country
including the person who gracefully became a British citizen and
proceeded to knock South Africa out of the 2007 cricket world cup Kevin
Pietersen. (bold mine)

All people unwilling to adhere to this will not be allowed access to the
united kingdom.

(BETTER START SUCKING UP ELLIS)

Of course, I had to set the record straight. Thank goodness I spotted this on the net.

Story from News19.com 16/04/2007

PRETORIA - The British High Commissioner for Southern Africa, Wouter Wortelvanvoren, addressed the sporting media this morning on claims that the treasonous batsman Kevin Pietersen had his UK citizenship revoked for being a prat.

"He's a doos," said Mr Wortelvanvoren, "and quite frankly we can't wait to get rid of him."

The mediocre batsman has previously come under heavy fire for his ridiculous hairstyles, his fake English accent, his habit of feeling himself up in the crease and political grandstanding about not being picked for the Proteas because of transformation *coff*bullshit*coff*.

The idiot, I mean, Pietersen, is in the process of being deported, said Mr Wortelvanvoren. Unfortunately, he is unqualified to join the Proteas at this stage.

"Where would we put him?" asked convener of selecters Haroon Longaat. "He's not worthy of picking up the used boxes after the game, and we already have someone who licks Jacques Kallis' arse."

Pietersen has accordingly been offered a place as the person who changes the scoreboard in the little town of Fuckoffandvrekfontein on the Lesotho border.

PATTOTE: Better living through calling skunk-headed mediocre batsman an idiot in two languages.

How Bizarre

Just for laughs, check out these eccentricities.

Celebrate!

I'd say last night's game is cause for a snoopy dance. *snoopy dance*snoopy dance*snoopy dance*

Just an idea

Lately I've been asking myself what I really want to do with the rest of my life. I guess it's because I'm standing at the edge of a new beginning. So much of the life I lead now is one of circumstance. A happened so B was necessary and now I'm living with C.

But now, now I can decide for myself. But what exactly do I want to decide? I have a plan mapped out. Some of the details are a little murky still, but mostly I think I've found a goal.

Part of that goal is to "live off the land". I know, totally airy-fairy sounding. I promise I'm not about to join a cult or turn into a fruitarian or anything. But I would like to be self-sufficient. I'd like some land, enough space for a gorgeous garden (veggie and otherwise), a house I've restored myself, and to be partially dependent on what I produce.

I saw this really interesting book in Exclusive's the other day, A Guide to Self-Sufficiency, featuring everything from building a rabbit hutch to slaughtering a chicken. Oddly, I can theoretically cope with the idea of killing a chicken. But somehow I don't know if I could slaughter rabbits, ducks or, heaven forbid, a cow.

The plan needs some streamlining, but the Great Goat has a future in homesteading.

PATTOTE: Better living through a farm of my own.

Snarky Cricket Moment #4

In yesterday's tense encounter between England and Sri Lanka, I had a good giggle during an attempted run out of...someone. So sue me - the spotty pale faces all look alike. About five Sri Lankan fielders went racing to the wicket keeper's end, all aiming to kick the ball at the stumps. Bizarrely they all missed. And then milled around like cows who got lost on the way to pasture.

Another scene in a taxi

Picture the scene -a taxi stuffed to the gills with people, loud music echoing from the radio. All of a sudden, BoyzIIMen comes on. It's "I'll make Love to You", probably number 3 on the list of songs I hate with the fire of ten thousand suns. The driver starts to sing along. The guard belts out the chorus. Around the time they started harmonising I got the hell off.

Why? Why? Why?

Why does South African cricket always seem to go down to a nailbiter? I'm just not equipped to deal with this kind of tension.

I'm Official!

At last! I've had word that all my paperwork is in order - I'm officially a British Citizen!

WOOHOO!!!

Snarky Cricket Moment #3

How much do I love Mark Nicholas? Let me count the ways. His comment during the Aus/SA game on Saturday was a real gem. He was mentioning that the 438 game had changed the face of cricket - "like Roger Bannister's 4-minute mile and Jimi Hendrix playing guitar with his teeth".

Disappointed but hopeful

It wasn't a very nice feeling to lose to the Aussies yesterday. It revealed some cracks in our bowling and they'll need to do some careful thinking about their approach, but the World Cup only really begins now. And we're definitely still in it. I agree with this assessment

A more fitting tribute

Apparently retired Proteas fast bowler Allan Donald is calling for the World Cup to be called off in the wake of Bob Woolmer's apparent murder. I think that a more fitting tribute to Bob would be to play cricket, and play it brilliantly.

For The Best Friend, to drive her nuts.

The rules of cricket:

You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he is out. When they are all out, the side that's been out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.

When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out, he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who are out all the time, and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have been out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game.

PATTOTE: Catch up or be caught out.

Snarky cricket moment #2

During the SA/Scotland game, Mark Nicholas putting paid to Darryll Cullinan's weather forecasting abilities: "We're back and it's sunny skies [after 10 minutes of rain]. No sign at all of the fierce tropical storm predicted by Darryll." Then he rolled his eyes.

Well, I found it funny anyway.

Return to perfection

When I was about five we lived in a tiny little town on the Orange River. We spent our weekends on the river: fishing, camping, swimming. The river moved slowly and quietly. The only sounds came from the piet-my-vrous, doves, cicadas. They combined to make the hot, high-pitched buzzing of summer. I remember peacefully floating on inner tubes, the big black ones. You smelt the river, the trees, warmed rubber and it was perfection.

Yesterday I experienced it again.

Cricket Highs and Lows

Weekend High:
Herschelle Gibbs hitting SIX sixes in one over. Until now, it was a hypothetical situation. Now it's legend.

Weekend Low:
Bob Woolmer's sudden death after Pakistan crashed out of the world cup. Woolmer was a great man and this is a terrible loss. I feel so sad for his family, and for the cricketers in the tournament who knew him so well.

Tick! Tick! Tick! Boom!

And the countdown to our first World Cup game begins. We play the Netherlands tomorrow. By all accounts the Proteas are confident and upbeat. The Lucky Helmet and I are feeling quite confident and upbeat as well.

Graeme Smith has been making lots of statements about how we have left the "chokers" tag behind. All I can hope is that our previous psychological weakness has been left behind, that we have the mental werewithal against teams like the Aussies, and that we can remember that we are the best team in the world.

It's incredibly important that we beat Aus in the Group A clashes. We need to finish in the top slot going into the Super 8s so we can take the points in with us. Should rain come and wreck the parade, we want no surprises. You hear that, rain god? NO SURPRISES! The Lucky Helmet and I are watching you carefully.

FAVOURITE SNARKY CRICKET MOMENT: Daryll Cullinan commentating on the Australia/Scotland match. "Well, at least Australia has broken their losing streak."

PATTOTE: Better living through not being chokers.

Happy First Birthday Me

A year ago this month I started up this blog. I'm not sure what the original intent was, other than to publish my myriad opinions on everything. I'm not sure that this blog has been a success, entirely. I know I have my readers (hi mum!), but from a writing perspective, is it being all it can be?

Shouldn't I be using it to write deep introspective pieces on what's happening in the news, in addition to the fluffy fluff pieces? If I have opinions, I should be able to formulate an entire 400/500 word post about it, shouldn't I?

This point is pretty moot anyway, considering my severe lack of any kind of posting of late. I guess I'm saying, I'm working on it. Stay tuned.

Whistle while you work

The painter hanging outside my office window was whistling Beethoven's Für Elise.

Resolution #3: Stop clicking your knuckles...

...at least in public.

Out of deference to all your finer feelings I am trying to stop clicking my knuckles. I love clicking the joints in my fingers, just so you know. And the link between it and arthritis is inconclusive. But I will from now one just be clicking happily in my own company. And in the company of my deskmate who doesn't care.

PATTOTE: Better living through a nice snapping knuckle.

Dreamy Beatles

I had the craziest dream the other morning. I was at a huge festival of some sort and I was surrounded by The Beatles (minus John). They were young and still had their 60s haircuts, but were dressed in clothes for our time. Oh and George's hair was nattily moussed and gelled. Anyway, they're getting ready to go up on stage to perform (for me!). I very firmly tell them I want George to sing, because he's my favourite (he still is). Ringo gets all upset and they all start fighting.

PATTOTE: Better living through The Great Goat. Even The Beatles can't get enough of me!

Cricket World Cup

So my world cup fever is starting. I'm being positive but I think SA are in with the best chance they've had so far. We thumped Pakistan and India this past season, and are showing consistency in bowling, batting and fielding. And finally we're leading from the front rather than getting into trouble and relying on the middle order to rescue us. This could be our year!

The 15-man squad will be announced tonight. Here's who I'm picking and what I think of their abilities:

1) Graeme Smith (Finally found form. It's so vital for Smith to lead from the front, and with AB de Villiers in as well, he's needed to stabilise the top order. I'm grateful that he's stopped sending himself into bowl, because that always smacked of desperation).

2) AB de Villiers (I'm a huge fan. He's a gorgeous stroke player and lovely to watch. He's also come back from the doldrums of the India tour. His biggest failings can be put down to youth. He goes out in stupid ways because he picks the wrong balls or finds himself on the wrong foot. He looks like he's been working really hard and it's been paying off. And let's not forget his amazing fielding).

3) Jacques Kallis (There's no question here. And last night's game was just one more illustration that if he wants to he can belt 4s and 6s all over the place. He's allowed himself to gather a reputation of a slogger. I hope he'll let himself take a few more risks. His bowling is pinpoint accurate as well. Even when he's not taking wickets (which he has been of late, 2 in the game at Wanderers) he is economical. Worth his weight in gold).

4) Herchelle Gibbs (Can't leave him out, he's the fielder they can't go without. But oy, his batting record has been spotty. We'll see, because when he bats, he bats. 438 anyone?).

5) Ashwell Prince (He's developed the reputation as one of our middle order rescue guys, a reputation we hopefully won't need. He's nippy between the wickets, and with one of the big hitters on the other end - like Justin Kemp - is perfectly capable of winning a game on his own. Once again, let's hope we won't need him to do that. Every team needs a dependable unflashy player; Prince is ours).

6) Shaun Pollock (Do I really need to justify his place in the team? Oh, ok. Accurate, lethal, can swing the ball on a pitch that does nothing for anyone else, and can bat as if his life depends on it. 5/23. That was his most recent haul. From a man they were calling a has-been a year ago).

7) Mark Boucher (As indispensable as Pollock. His keeping skills are rock solid and his batting is inspired).

8) Justin Kemp (He's made a name for himself as the big hitter and has been compared to the awesome Brian McMillan. And his bowling goes as unsung as Big Mac's did. He took 2 wickets yesterday and has been making breakthroughs throughout the season. I think he's a useful change bowler and they should use his heeeeuuuuuggggeness more - he can thump a 6 out of the park).

9) Andrew Hall (Floats in and out of the team but always performs. He can bat and his bowling at the lower order is always productive. He pins them down and gets them out. He's going to be very valuable in the attack in the West Indies for his ability to restrict runs.)

10) André Nel (I've never been a fan of Nel, who often falls on the ludicrous side of aggression. But the man get's wickets. He'll have to, have to, have to work on his accuracy though. Extras lose matches).

11) Makhaya Ntini (As indispensable as Pollock. He's fast, he's innovative and he's good. He can also rotate the strike should we run out of batsman).

12) Charl Langeveldt (Has worked hard to become a really good death bowler. Can also bat if needs be. Also takes catches regularly. He'll play an important role if they allow him to).

13) Paul Harris (I haven't seen a lot of him but I think he's a spinner worth watching. The only really good and effective spinner we've ever had was Pat Symcox. I think Harris shows talent and he could be very useful).

14) Roger Telemachus (He's been tried and tested and he's fairly dependable as a backup bowler. He can get punished quite badly though because of bad line and length. But he's useful with a bat and adds depth to the lineup).

15) Robin Petersen (I'm not a fan. I don't think he's lived up to expectation but he spins the ball. And has performed with the bat in the past. We need another spinner but I think I'd rather go with the unproven but more exciting Harris).

PATTOTE: Better living through CRICKET! I'm very excited.

My First Poem

When I was five I took part in a poetry eisteddfod. I had to memorise a poem, stand up in a long room and declaim it to the best of my dramatic ability. I remember one little girl (frizzy red hair, Christelle maybe?) bursting into tears. Yes, I was an insufferably smug little brat. Anyway, I still remember the poem:

"Ek tel my katjie op my skoot
en streel haar sagte pels.
Woer, wir, woer, wir spin sy,
dis hoe sy met my gesêls."

I practised it clutching a little white stuffed cat; The Mother and The Father claimed props would aid the drama. "Ek tel!!!!! My Katjie!!!! Op!!!! My skoooooot!!!!" or something to that effect. Never has a cat been more movingly stroked. Or painfully strangled. Your call.

For my non-Afrikaans speaking readers: I put my kitty on my lap, and stroke her soft fur. Voer, vir, voer, vir, she purrs. That's how she talks to me.

Nothing to add

I have nothing really to add today, other than to say come Monday I will be trying to post everyday, whether I have anything to say or not. I know, you're all reeling in disbelief, but occasionally even I have nothing to say. In the meantime I'm planning my weekend. This will include sleeping, chocolate, packing, repacking, cutting myself on cardboard boxes, getting wrapped in masking tape and watching the cricket on Sunday.

For those you playing at home, I'll be the one wearing the green helmet.

PATTOTE: Better living through doing nothing.

Waa's daai?

I met a brand new taxi driver this morning. He was all bright and shiny and had a new car smell about him and everything. He stayed under the speed limit. He checked his blindspot! Everytime the guard told him what the next stop was he asked: "Waa's daai?" And all the passengers sighed. It was a long trip.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Woohoo!

The final Harry Potter book is being released on July 21 this year.

Where will I be then? Must pre-order!

On the Move

Yesterday brought several surprises:

1) My citizenship application to the UK will take 4-5 months, not the 3 months originally stated.

2) When it eventually is processed my passport will take another 6 weeks.

3) My lease ends earlier than I thought so I have to be out of my flat end of Feb.

4) I can only ship my stuff in April so it has to be stored until then.

5) I may still be stuck in South Africa in June because my South African passport is in the clutches of the nefarious British Home Office.

All in all, not the best fun day ever. Thankfully, I've found a furnished month-to-month let from beginning of March, so that's one thing off my mind. It means living with just a suitcase of clothes for God only knows how long, but I can deal with that. Someone at work is also happy to take care of my boxes until I can get my shipping organised. Der Fuhrer is skipping at the fact that he doesn't have to interview anybody yet to replace me. I just want to leee-aaaa-vvvv-eee.

Traitor

I am the Benedict Arnold of bibliophiles.

I've started to sell off my books.

To cull the herd.

I don't want to talk about it.

All I'll say is that emigrating had better be worth it.

Deeply ashamed

I'm a very bad person. Even though I consider myself socially aware and environmentally conscious, when I checked out my biological footprint I discovered that I am personally using 7.3 hectares of space every day to live:

CATEGORY GLOBAL HECTARES
FOOD 0.7
MOBILITY 1.5
SHELTER 1.5
GOODS/SERVICES 3.6
TOTAL FOOTPRINT 7.3

IN COMPARISON, THE AVERAGE ECOLOGICAL FOOTPRINT IN YOUR COUNTRY IS 4.3 GLOBAL HECTARES PER PERSON. WORLDWIDE, THERE EXIST 1.8 BIOLOGICALLY PRODUCTIVE GLOBAL HECTARES PER PERSON.

IF EVERYONE LIVED LIKE YOU, WE WOULD NEED 4.1 PLANETS.

Holy ecological disaster, Batman!

Resolution #2: The F-Word

Using the f-word is not a suitable alternative to a failure of imagination. You're smart, come up with something else. You're tough, deal with the situation. Maybe meditate? Who the fuck knows. Actually, never mind. This resolution is bound to fail, because sometimes shouting FUCK loudly is the only thing to do.

PATTOTE: Better living through smarter adjectives, and the occasional: "Oh for fuck's sake."

It's very hard to explain

Now, the thing you need to know about me, Great Goat and future leader of the world, is that I am not particularly maternal. I don't hate children with a fire-breathing rage or anything, but I have limited patience with brattiness and whining gives me a headache. So I have an ambivalent attitude towards having my own kids. Being told, "You'll change your mind when you have your own," bugs the shit out of me, because it just makes me want to say screw you all, this oven is closed for business. But yeah, I can take or leave procreation.

But God, I love my nephew. I haven't even met Jamie yet but I'm totally fascinated by this tiny person who represents the next generation of my family. I love that he's apparently developing Ellis ears (see dumbo-esque), that from certain angles he's the double of my sister, from others the double of his dad. I've never had any sort of exposure to kids growing so I'm flabbergasted at how fast they develop and how much personality they seem to have at such a young age. And sure, I'm eagerly awaiting the day I can start the long process of indoctrination (Cool auntie Elize, not so cool auntie ****, cool auntie Elize, not so cool auntie ****).



I guess I'm just looking forward to being an aunt. I'd rather he just call me Elize though.

Corporate Paedophilia

I read an article in the Cape Times recently about underwear lines available in South Africa for girls under ten. This underwear include bras for children as young as two. Yes. Two. Retailers have defended the articles as "what the customers want". One of panties available for little girls had the words "spoil me" with an image of black cat on it. What kind of customer wants to put that on a 5-year-old?

The tshirts for children with words like "Broken Flower", "Porn Star", or "First Desire" are barely noticed anymore, but are a frightening example of the hypersexualisation of prepubescent girls.

Yes, girls do develop early in some cases, and yes there should definitely be lines available to them. But no baby needs a bra. And the article discovered that while the average girl's first bra would be a 32A, what the companies are selling is only 25 inches. This is not recognised in the industry and can damage a young child's soft tissue.

In a country with such a high incidence of crimes against children, why would we want to encourage girls to send out messages they don't understand? I'm not in any way saying they're "asking for it". I'm just saying that there are disgusting psychos out there, and instead of finding the happy medium between baby clothes and slutty kid's clothing, the big clothing companies are encouraging an environment where children can be exploited because they don't know any better and their parents just don't care.

Alexander McCall Smith

I've just finished 44 Scotland Street and am rapidly working through the 21/2 Pillars of Wisdom, after polishing off the Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency series, and I have to say, I love him. His books are such a lovely breath of fresh air, and I deeply appreciate the fact that he can make me laugh out loud.

I think it's the graceful simplicity of his stories and writing that appeal to me most. They're human and interesting but completely unpretentious. Pretentiousness is actually the punchline of many of his jokes. Making fun of people who think they're a cut above everyone else or know absolutely everything are beautifully characterised and then completely eviscerated.

21/2 Pillars of Wisdom is not my favourite of his books, but highlights in parts what is used to great effect in the rest of his work. Nothing really happens; it's like Seinfeld with three Germans. A blundering fool, fixated on the wrong priorities, convinced of his own superiority, and the trouble he gets into as a result. Will he learn from his mistakes? Will he even be able to recognise them? That is Smith's genius right there.

PATTOTE: Better living through the fictional lampooning of people we hate in real life.

P(re) M(enstrual) S(cariness)

Every month I fall into the Slough of Despond, a big scary pit of very sad darkness which for one days looks inescapable. And every time I fall into the Pit of Very Sad Darkness™ I'm convinced there's no escape and that I'm going nutty.

Of course, this is total crap and by the next day I'm a little morose but just groovy again. And then I forget about it for a whole month and freak myself out when it happens again. So this time I'm blogging it, and I'm laying in a store of Evening Primrose Oil for the next time. I'm very tired of the Pit of Very Sad Darkness™.

PATTOTE: Better living through other suggestions for combating PMS. And unpanicking The Mother who, on reading this post ,will freak out.

Jane Austen's Life

I've just finished Claire Tomalin's biography, Jane Austen: A life. I really enjoyed it. Tomalin's writing is well researched without being too academic, and very accessible.

However, I think she places too much emphasis on certain aspects of Austen's life, so I don't agree with all her conclusions. If Austen feared abandonment, it was predominantly due to her being sent away to school so early, rather than being put out to nurse. I know Tomalin draws on both of these, but I put more faith in the second factor.

That said, I think she did a brilliant job investigating a really enigmatic woman, supported by research into the family and the times. It's not just a biography of Austen, but of Austen's England, and Austen's family - all of which feature so heavily in her work. To understand one is to know the other and that's well demonstrated.

I also enjoyed reading more about Aussten's character. Her narrative style is so sly and witty, and it was so lovely to see that part borne out in her life.

My visit to Chawton and Bath last year really brought the story alive too. I want to go back there, as well as go to Steventon and Winchester Cathedral.

Now, until I find collections of her letters, I'll carry on rereading her novels. It's fascinating how you can read her work at 16, and then again at 25, and come away with such completely different opinions of her characters and plots. She's a tricky, intelligent writer. I admire any author who can make you like and hate somebody at the same time. Yes, Fanny Price, I'm glaring at you.

Next up: Howard's End by EM Forster

PATTOTE: Better living through books, books, books.

Resolution #1: Be more subtle

Subtlety is not a dead art apparently. And when some bizarro random character wanders over to you and Leigh, 30 seconds after you made under-your-breath comments about how said character should never ever tuck his lumo green tshirt into his jeans, and starts chatting you both up despite admitting that he is in fact unemployed and cheap, it's probably a better idea to only start laughing AFTER he's out of earshot or your direct line of sight.

PATTOTE: Better living by being nice to random characters who could turn out to be axe murderers should you laugh at them.

Christmas Helmet

All I've ever wanted was a cricket helmet. I want to wear it as South Africa powers through the world cup. And I love the grille bit in front. I can't explain the longing, but I've wanted one ever since that poignant school holiday when I turned into a cricket nut, much to The Father's interest.

So imagine my surprise and wild delight when the greatest friend ever gave me this:



How much do I rock right now? It even has my name on it!

PATTOTE: Better living through custom made cricket helmets

Free books!

Kind of, anyway... I finally got onto the bookcrossing bandwagon when I discovered an official bookcrossing zone at the Coffeebean in Rondebosch on New Year's Day. I always keep a death grip on my own books, which is why I have about ten boxes of them to ship overseas for the Great Exodus of 2007. However, I'm coming round to the idea of releasing a few select ones into the wild and keeping track of them via bookcrossing.com

I released one today in Charley's Bakery on Roeland Street (and comforted myself with a shortbread biscuit). It looked so tiny and lonely and defenceless - even if it was only a rather shitty Silhouette book.

PATTOTE: Better living through free books and freeing books.

Good Vibrations

So a friend and I decided to go vibrator shopping at this nifty "sensuality" shop around the corner from my office. Not Adult World, which is cheap and nasty with oddly second-hand looking products. We wandered off to Whet, talking a mile a minute as per usual. We're still yapping as we breeze past the saleswoman behind the counter and come to a standstill in front of the wall o' vibrators. And all of a sudden...silence...as thoughts of "how the hell does that fit?" and "what does the kitty shaped attachment do?" flitted through our heads. The saleswoman (who had snuck up behind us by this point) had a good laugh and said that wall does it to everybody. They come in yapping and are stunned into silence. Fun shopping trip all round.

PATTOTE: Better living through...

Coming soon...

A picture of the best Christmas present ever!
A list of my favourite books of 2006!
The Great Goat's hopes and dreams for 2007!
Random facts to help you face the apocolypse!
And a report from the newly freed Siska.

PATTOTE: Stay tuned...

Shag, Marry or Kill...

or "Smok" is a game Der Fuhrer introduced me to. You pick three celebrities and you have to pick one to shag, one to marry and one to kill. It's hard enough when you realise that you're going to have to off Colin Firth in order to marry Hugh Jackman and shag John Cusack. But it gets nasty when you have to decide between three people like, um, Jack Black, Bill Cosby and Dudley Moore. Or when you have to pick between people you know. Tons of fun.

PATTOTE: Better living through mocking celebrities.

The Lowest Common Denominator...

...and how tabloids are perpetuating the existence of same.

I think people live up to expectations, so journalists and newspapers should expect more of them. Tabloids think their readers are dumb, so their readers expect the newspapers to be dumbed down. I'm not even talking about which celebrity is screwing around with which sheep. I'm talking about the crappy stories, the terrible headlines, the completely heinous crimes against grammar and punctuation, and, even worse, the ad hoc slanging about which brings two languages into disrepute.

The media has an obligation to audiences everywhere to be erudite and intelligent. When we start dumbing things down in a misguided attempt to access the "people", we are selling the "people" incredibly short. If people don't read newspapers because they're disinterested that's fine. I don't understand it, but let's just add that to the long list of things I don't understand. But aiming lower to up circulation is not the answer.

Of course, PATTOTE continues to acknowledge that people do idiotic things. But they should at least be well informed idiots.

I'm not dead!

I feel fine! I feel happy!

Scene from a taxi

The Daily Voice is, to put it mildly, crap. It's one of a number of truly trashy tabloids (tm me) that have proliferated in Cape Town of late. it comes complete with page three girls, complete in their kaalgat glory.

So this morning on my way to work I noticed a guy with his (two, maybe three-year-old) son. Dad was trying to read the Voice. Kiddie was insistently pointing his finger at the naked girl. In fact, he was pointing so hard at the..erm...nippular area, I was surprised his finger didn't poke straight through the paper. What was going through his mind? Breakfast?

Dear Anonymous

Beansprout, I know who you are!

And it's S-P-O-O-N-E-R-I-S-E. Not "spoon and rise".

Now you get your update.

Love and kisses

Liz

Family Jokes

The Parents have finally come on board the information extra super hyper awesome highway and learnt about the beauties of IMing. Infinitely cheaper than smses and phonecalls, and you can drink a cup of tea, work and talk at the same time. Brilliant!

As fabulous as yapping on the phone is, there is such a sense of urgency to get all the vital information across the subtleties of family communication are somewhat lost. Writing allows those subtleties some space again. IM gives me the illusion of being in my parents living room, drinking tea and playing scrabble, falling about into hysterics with The Mother and The Sister while The Father looks on in annoyance trying to get us back into the game.

My family are great laughers/snorters/gigglers. The family in-jokes keep us laughing long after the jokes stopped being funny and bind us together in our own Ellis-oh-Elize-tried-to-strangle-Juanita-but-she-turned-out-ok-our-dogs-sit-up-on-dining-room-chairs-and-our-car-was-mauled-to-pieces-by-a-field-mouse kind of way.

Every group has in-jokes. Laughing together to the exclusion of another is a societal tool really. Chummy cameraderie and a shared history gives you a sense of belonging to something. Not knowing what the joke is leaves you alienated and alone. Maybe the neanderthal who didn't get the latest woolly mammoth story got stomped on? Who knows. But knowing the joke gives you the power to allow another person in. Not to sound all portentious, but knowing the joke equals survival.
In some ways gossip serves the same purpose, but I don't think sharing gossip leaves you with the same feeling of security that laughing at an old joke does. The same secure feeling you got when you were little and lying in bed, listening to the theme song of Dallas, or LA Law or The Golden Girls and heard the quiet hum of your parents talking.

Family In-Joke 1: We were outside playing when that happened

I was about 6, The Sister was about 4, and we really were outside playing when The Parents called us into the sitting room and lined us up. Somebody had carved a little drawing into the polished coffee table. "Girls, who was it?" asks The Father. I shake my head - my drawing was WAY more advanced than that. The Sister said: "We were outside playing when that happened." Guilty party, table for one. So now when you're trying to evade guilt (Who used up the last of the milk/toilet paper/hot water) you were outside playing when that happened.

Family In-Joke 2: You're all right

The Father (God love him, and I do) is a tough man to please. Certain compliments can only be chipped out of him with an ice pick. So when he says: "Ja, you're all right", he means all the mushy stuff The Mother usually says. So now if you want to give a grudging compliment it is proper ellisiquette to just say: "You're all right." As in: "Dad, don't you think Siskey is a clever dog?" Dad:"She's an all right dog."

Family In-Joke 3: Yoghurt position

The yoghurt position is any position you're in that is extra comfortable and you're not moving any time soon. Yoghurt is of course a corruption of yoga. There are a couple of those corruptions. We speak of satsuma wrestlers as well. And flamingos are high ducks.

Family In-Joke 4: "Put down that book!"

Related to In-Joke 3, this is yelled whenever you're taking too long with anything. Been in the loo too long? "Put down that book!" Still getting dressed after an hour? "Put down that book!" Been in the bath for a while? "Put down that book!" Of course, the fact is that more often than not, I have a book to put down. Sue me.

Family In-Joke 5: "Girls, come here!"

This hearkens back to days of yore, when The Sister and I would be deep into one of our games and there would be a call from The Mother to "come here!" She just wants to "tell you something!" And after dragging our heels, and leaving the ruins of our game behind, we'd get there only to be told: "I love you!" Cue much groaning and stomping off. We were ungrateful little brats.

Are you an African?

The Father sent me this:

"Hi. We have a new guy working with us.He is a black Zimbabwean. Father was an Englishman so he speaks English without a Shona or Ndebele accent. Victor, who is Tanzanian and speaks Swahili, does not regard him as an African because he does not speak an African language!! I on the other hand, am African, because I speak an African language, namely Afrikaans!!! Is this crazy, or what?"

Discuss...

Evergroan

Hell is being stuck on a taxi playing Will Young's Evergreen on loop.

White chick

While crossing the taxi rank at Cape Town station this morning, one of the guys yelled: "Hey! Abelungu!"
It's only since my regular forays with Habitat for Humanity that I've discovered that abelungu means "white people" in Xhosa (for your interest, the singular is umlungu), because when you're working gangs of kids follow you around shouting it.
Because I recognised the word and the fact that I was the only umlungu in the vicinity I answered, which I think surprised the yeller. Unlike the word amaBhulu (which is Xhosa for Boer or Afrikaner), abelungu/umlungu has no negative overtones. It's just a catch-all word.

If I went to that same taxi rank and yelled: "Hey! Black people!", would the response be the same? Should I be as offended and annoyed as I am when someone whispers: "Hey, girly" in a queue? I don't find being identified by my race offensive. I find being labelled because of it wrong and aggravating. Does allowing one label let all the other labels in?

Who(us) Dunnit(us)

I've just discovered the the Falco series by Lindsey Davis. I've been wanting to read about this Ancient Roman Private Eye for ages but haven't been able to find the first book (The Silver Pigs) anywhere. And you all know how much I loathe reading books out of order. But at last I found it, finished it and have embarked on the others.

The gist is that Marcus Didius Falco is an informer in Rome under Emperor Vespasian. He has all manner of cases to solve, which he does with a helping of his truly terrible luck. The books are funny and touching spoofs on the old gum shoe detective books.

I love the patter and the plots, which are complex but absorbing. I especially like the author's lack of coddling. She writes; it's up to the reader to understand.

PATTOTE: Better living through discovering entire new series of books that will take me a few years to complete.

RIP Red Rocket

The Red Rocket is gone!

Long live the Rocket!

PATTOTE: I miss my car!

According to the Furher...

Spitting is Love
Swallowing is True Love
Gargling is just showing off.
PATTOTE: Better living through yeugh.

Tiny girl in Pink Tutu Astounds

I was walking the little powder puff through the neighbourhood the other day when I heard some high-pitched shrieking. As I passed a nearby gate I saw a little girl wearing a pink tutu pretending to be an opera singer. She was serenading a dog - arms outstretched, standing on her tiptoes. When she saw me, she paused and smiled a bit. As soon as I passed out of sight, she went right back to singing.

It's all in my head.

Allow me a little whinge, please, as migraine weather has arrived and I now have a public forum in which to vent. Those who don't suffer from migraines can smirk: "Oh, it's just a headache," as much as they want. When they've curled up in a fetal position in a dark room, been slowly driven mad by one tiny little crack of moonlight, or thrown up so badly they almost lost an eyeball, then I'll consider their opinion.

I have heard varying reasons for migaines. The most reasonable explanation (according to a neurologist I once visited) is that there is a dip in serotonin levels, causing neuropeptides to dilate blood vessels in the brain, causing the headache. Migraines are characterised by pain on one side of the head. I usually feel nauseated, irritable, sensitive to light and sound, and can't take being touched in any way. I have occasionally had numbness on one side of my body but it's not a regular part of the attacks.

The most difficult part of treating migraines is that...there isn't any real way to treat them. You can try to prevent them, and try to reduce the number you have and their duration. I use Maxalt, which is rizatriptan, with a lot of success. But it only works if you take it as early into the migraine as possible.

Unfortunately the triggers vary hugely. Mine are chocolate, cheese, flashing lights and stress. I've also recently discovered that overprocessed junk food adds to your chances of getting them too.

And of course, I've indulged in all of these delightful things in the past while. And now I'm paying for it badly. I suppose the good thing is that now I can come back to this post and it can be a deterrent.

Until then, I'll clutch my sunglasses and sleep. Whinge over.

What's really destroying the US

These children have no chance of becoming responsible, intelligent adults. Read Bill Maher's insightful and incisive commentary here.

PATTOTE: Better living through politically incorrect US commentators.

Cricketing Obits

Peter the Lord's Cat and Other Unexpected Obituaries from Wisden is on my list of must-have books. Wisden's is more than just cricket - it's an institution of wonderful writing and understated English wit. And isn't that just the best title you've ever read?

Spot the errors.

If you can name the two things that are incorrect in this picture, you get a small island come my glorious revolution. But not TOM. TOM is exempt from survival.



PATTOTE: No bad spelling allowed

I'm the baby...

...you gotta love me.

http://s51.photobucket.com/albums/f363/Liz_Isabella/?action=view&current=MOV00020.flv

Gibbs avoids arrest

Herschelle Gibbs finally faced the music in India, where he has been wanted for questioning since the match fixing scandal broke in 2000. He's avoided arrest by helping the Indian authorities, and provided them with the names of 3 former national players who were involved. So now he can help us to victory in the Champion's Trophy. But I want to know who those three additional players were. And whether Gibbs will be spared criminal charges. He was already punished by the UCB, after all.

The Ellis Family Bush Telegraph System

11:02am I talk to The Sister. She tells me The Parents will be visiting for a few days. I tell her a joke.

11:30 am The Parents phone. They tell me they're going to visit The Sister for a few days. They tell me a joke they heard from The Sister. Yes, my joke. I tell them that is my joke. They say The Sister laid claim to it.

11:38 am Cue outraged phone call from myself to The Sister's landline. The landline is engaged.

11:39 am Cue fuming phone call from myself to The Sister. She picks up on the cellphone. The Mother is on the Landline warning The Sister that beans have been spilt re owner of the joke.

11:40 am The Sister talks to The Mother and Myself, one in each ear. We agree to let bygones be bygones.

1pm two days later The Father calls. The Mother is at work and he is getting a sneaky chat with me ("I won't tell if you don't"). He tells me the fun they had visiting The Sister, The Sister's Fiance and Curtis-the-Fetus. He says The Mother will call later.

4pm The Sister calls. She tells me the fun they had while The Mother and The Father visited.

10pm The Mother calls. The Father is asleep and she is getting a sneaky chat with me ("I won't tell if you don't"). She tells me the fun they had visiting The Sister, The Sister's Fiance and Curtis-the-Fetus. Goodnight, they'll call again for the regularly scheduled Saturday chat.

Who has a chance to miss anyone in this family? We're always talking.

Take a walk on the weird side

Those of you who know me also know that I have a latent interest in healing techniques and new age-y stuff. Some of it makes me want to roll my eyes. Other aspects - particularly the tai chi concept that what is in the mind is then in the body - make sense. To me anyway.

So pyschosomatic partial cynic that I am, I wasn't sure what to expect from the healing workshop that I attended this weekend. it was more rewarding than I thought it would be.

I learnt:
1) That people will always come back.
2) That nothing bad happens when you face what you're feeling, no matter how overwhelming it may be.
3) That a touch on the shoulder is more comforting than I have allowed myself to believe.
4) That the evil part of me is determined to hear dodgy euphemisms in everything.

Dystopian pleasure

Just been reading an extract of The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History by Jonathan Franzen. It's very good and excruciatingly honest. I find Franzen's work hard to read but very rewarding.

Useless Information

I was tagged by Marissa to write down 20 random facts about myself, so here they are. I'm going to tag Kristy (so that she'll update) and anybody else who's keen.

1) I once almost chopped my left middle finger off with an axe.
2) I sometimes sing to myself before going to sleep.
3) I like skipping and hopping down passages.
4) I like to imagine my funeral, and regularly write my eulogies.
5) I have flat feet and can go through a pair of shoes in less than six months.
6) I practice what I'm going to say before I speak on the phone, because otherwise I get tongue-tied. A great bonus for a journalist.
7)The first dream I remember having was when I was four. I was trapped in a house full of white statues and their arms kept falling off.
8) I have a little sniffle everytime I look at a picture or video of my nephew.
9) I've always wanted to play the piano.
10) I like slogan tshirts and want an entire collection.
11) I can't do Embrace the tiger, Return to the mountain in taichi without falling over.
12) Berg winds make me grumpy and aggro.
13) I have fake eardrums.
14) I bruise like a peach.
15) I enjoy telling really bad jokes because they get a great reaction.
16) I really love making an entire room of people laugh.
17) I often feel that my entire life is a dream and I will be waking up at any second.
18) I have a birthmark that stretches around my middle.
19) I try not to cry in movies because I'm afraid people will laugh.
20) I like going to movies on my own.

PATTOTE: Better living through information you can now use against me

The following scenes may not be suitable for sensitive viewers

My name is Sadie. I'm a gingerbread person - a politically correct biscuit for the 21st century.



Oh no! Someone ate my arm!



Oh no! Someone ate my other arm!



My perfect liquorice boobies! She ate my perfect liquorice boobies!



I guess I'll quit while I'm ahead.


PATTOTE: Hee hee hee.

So you think you know Jane Austen?

Apparently...I don't. I got 12 out of a possible 18. What kind of a bookaholic is that?

Take the quiz.

Books Books Books (2)

I went through to Stellenbosch this weekend to celebrate Marissa's birthday with an Alice in Wonderland-worthy tea party at a place called Cupcake. The party was brilliant. However, the true find of the day was Verbatim, a gorgeous little bookshop inhabited by two ladies who talk a mile a minute and have an opinion about everything...
I bought Master and Commander and Post Captain by Patrick O'Brian, The I hate to Housekeep Book which looks amusing, and Somerset Maugham's collected short stories.

PATTOTE: Better living through adding more books to my already precariously piled shelves.

A sign of things to come?

This morning I tried to put the iron into the fridge.

PATTOTE: Better living through a crazy great goat

Foiled Again

Justice took another nosedive today when the Jacob Zuma corruption case was struck off the roll. The judge said the state's case lacked evidence. The state believes that it still has a case and will continue to investigate in the hopes of bringing an indictment at a later date.

This is very frustrating, especially after the whole Aids fiasco. The judgement also lends credence to his claims that the government is setting him up. He has manipulated the negative publicity he has received perfectly, creating a little niche for himself as the wronged struggle hero. Rather than his political career being in tatters, he can make a new stand. I hope that the ANC still blackballs him for their national executive, despite the continued support the Youth League is giving him. I don't know what will happen if he enters politics again, but his signature song is "Get me my machine gun". Do we want that in a position of power?

Laughing - but dying on the inside

Seen today in the submissions pile:

"amaizing"

I didn't know I could twitch and laugh at the same time. Progress!

PATTOTE: Better living through correct spelling - and laughing at creative attempts.

For your Information

An addition to my post yesterday. Here is a link to the pope's full speech. Were his comments taken out of context? Is he spoiling for a fight and now getting what he deserves? You decide.

Or Else

I've been reading about the outcry among Muslims after Pope Benedict's speech, in which he is reported to have quoted an obscure medieval king who labelled Islam cruel and inhumane. The pope has a propensity to overestimate his audience, often delivering incredibly complex and academic speeches to people who are only half-listening. After the reaction to his speech broke, he stated that he never intended to offend anyone and that his comments had been largely misrepresented. However, some sections of Muslim society are demanding that he withdraw his statements completely and apologise. Or else.

It's the "or else" that worries me. This latest outraged reaction has been widely reported as coming from the extremist Muslim minority, and it is they who are getting all the airtime and all the newspaper space. That minority is holding the rest of the world to ransom. Support us "or else". Publish our point of view "or else". Print pictures of us burning effigies and flags "or else".

And it's not the non-Muslim world that is suffering because of that attitude. It's the million of non-extremist Muslims that are caught in the middle, in a world where dialogue now consists of fury from one side, and silence from the other - or else.

Personal Ads

I've aways said that if I were to place a personal ad it would be:
"Neurotic Virgo seeks one more thing to worry about."
You?

Oh, irony!

So Marissa and I are walking along on Friday afternoon, pavement bustling with rush hour traffic. We're discussing the fact that everybody looks so adult and together. And as I say: "Yes, well, we all look poised and confident on the outside, but on the inside we're a mess," I trip and land flat on my face. That is where poise will get you.

PATTOTE: Better living through two bruised knees, a giggling friend and soothing pots of tea.

Counting Crows

Ok, I'm going to be upfront and say that the biggest reason I came to love Counting Crows is because Adam F Duritz writes so many beautiful songs about someone called Elisabeth. Admittedly "Elisabeth" must have done some serious damage, because those songs are always a little desperate and painful. Desperate, painful and beautiful. But outside of the kick I get when I hear him singing to Elisabeth, I have a deep affection for the group's lyrics.

They remind me a great deal of TS Eliot's work. Words, upon words, upon words, in an order you never contemplated but comprehend nonetheless. TS Eliot always makes me feel that I'm on the edges of understanding and that at any second I'll get it, and the secrets of the universe will be opened to me.

The two songs by Counting Crows I love most are "St Robinson in his Cadillac Dream" and "Wish I was a Girl". St Robinson feels to me like having a dream that leaves me feeling content and happy, and trying to have that dream translate into reality. Sometimes real life is such a let down. That moment between the dream and the waking up is perfect. There's the potential that today will be the day. Real life could be the dream.

Wish I was a Girl means a great deal to me, largely because of the lines:
"I wish for all the world
That I could say
Hey, elisabeth, you know I'm doing all right
These days"

At one stage I would have sold my soul to hear those words directed at me. Now, of course, I'm a big person and I understand that this is a song about letting go. A song about reassurance. Now these lines strike me:
"For all the things you're losing
You might as well resign yourself to try and make a change"

Nothing stays the same. What you lose, you regain at another time, in another form. The only thing you never lose completely is you. I'm the only person who knows me inside out. I find that comforting.

PATTOTE: Better living through Counting Crows, because they are totally going to live on my island one day.

Encounter at the ATM

While waiting in line at the ATM the other day, this young guy joined the bunch of bored looking people. He smiled at us all, nodded his head a couple of times and said: "The Lord Jesus loves you all."

And that was it. Short, to the point, and he returned to perusing his bank statement.

The fine art of waking up

As far as I can tell you get two kinds of "not morning people". You get the sort who can't function at all before 10am - speaking to them will garner you a grunt and that's about it. Then you get the sort that can function fine, but the getting up part is a nightmare.

I'm the latter. It doesn't matter what time I go to bed, when that alarm goes off I'm barely concious. I hit snooze multiple times. I bargain with myself over whether 15 extra minutes would really kill me. I come up with elaborate schemes to wake myself up without actually having to get up immediately (the latest being putting the light on after the second alarm but keeping my eyes shut).

Of course I'm annoyingly compos mentis even when I'm trying to avoid getting up. I talk a mile a minute every day of my life, and straight through the night as well. Why would I not grumble loudly to myself as I try to find the off button on my alarm?

PATTOTE: Better living through those of us who are "rubbish in the morning" (quote unquote).

Atomic puns

Oxygen and Hydrogen walk into a bar. Gold is sitting at a table. They say: "AU, get outta here."

Snark snark snark...