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.