Because This Makes Me ANGRY, On a Serious Note, What the Fuck?

We All Lose

It is the 19th of January 2017. I am sitting in my boyfriend’s (yes, you read correctly) flat and waiting for him to finish working.

I mentioned the date for a reason. It is the eve of Donald Trump’s presidential inauguration. Regardless of what you think of him, this is going to be a time to remember. Continue reading

Advertisements
Standard
Because This Makes Me ANGRY, Gay Stuff, On a Serious Note, What the Fuck?

It’s Okay To Be Straight

I have so much to say that I don’t know where to begin.

The first time I saw this picture saying that straight people had to share it to show that they were proud to be straight because apparently straight people were being ostracised I laughed. But as time goes by it makes me angry. Continue reading

Standard
Because This Makes Me ANGRY, On a Serious Note

Let Them Go

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. More than usual. And I’ve been getting a lot of clarity.

This has been a year of letting go. I’ve been letting go of the past, things that happened in my childhood, but mostly people. I’ve let go of a lot of people this year.

Continue reading

Standard
Because This Makes Me ANGRY

I Threw My Popcorn in the Trash

It started out as a perfectly normal day. I had to drive to Menlyn Park Mall to run some errands. I had to fax a certified copy of my ID to my mom, deposit money into my bank account, and buy a hard drive to store my stuff on. I also wanted to catch a movie. Simple enough, right? Anyone can do that. Anyone…

I got into my car and I started driving. And that’s when the pressure started. There is a person who stands and begs at the traffic light where I leave my suburb. I say person, because I don’t really know what their gender is. Anyway, as the light turned green, someone offered this person money and the person ran towards the car. I got a fright and almost screamed; “Hey, lady/man/person! I almost hit you with my car!” Of course I didn’t do that, because most of my outbursts are inward and silent.

As I drove, it got worse. It’s Friday, and on Fridays everyone decides that they want to drive. I haven’t even been driving for a year, so I still tend to get a bit nervous when I drive with a large group of cars. At the point where I have to turn, the light was just turning orange for the oncoming traffic, but I wasn’t sure that they would stop, so I hesitated, causing my car to stall. People started honking on their horns and I panicked, trying to get the damn car to start. When it finally did start, it lunged forward, almost crashing into an old man driving in a red Golf. I finally managed to drive away, wishing that the ground would open and swallow me with car and all. I sighed a sigh of relief… and realized that I was in the wrong lane. The wrong lane! I couldn’t go into the right lane, because there wasn’t space, so I had to stay in that lane and turn. After eventually finding a traffic circle, I turned around and went back to the mall. I drove in, got the ticket, and drove to the next boom. I didn’t notice that the boom was already up and stuck because another car had driven in before me. I stopped and tried to put the ticket in, when the parking attendant shouted; “Go! Go! Go!” as if I was the biggest idiot in the world. And it wasn’t that there was anyone behind me, so I don’t know why he reacted that way. Anyway, I got a fright and stalled the car… again. After swearing and struggling, I got it to start again and drove in. The parking at this mall is always a nightmare and today was no different. Almost all the spaces were taken. Large parts are also camped off for construction. After driving around, I finally found a parking space. It was, as all mall parking spaces seem to be these days, incredibly narrow and I struggled to get my car in between the lines. After finally parking the car, I sat and sighed. Driving in South Africa is its own horror story. Surely going into the mall would be easy compared to all of this, right?

I walked into the mall and went straight to the internet shop. I walked in and stood at the counter. And I stood. After a while, I began to wonder if the person working there was even in the shop, but then she finally appeared. She was helping some person who apparently didn’t know how to use the internet. When I explained to the girl that I wanted to send a fax it became pretty clear to me that she was even more nervous than me. While she was helping me, a few other people came in and waited. The one old man got impatient and walked out. The girl panicked and shouted; “Sir! Sir!” to no avail. After the fax was sent and I paid (R8.00! Can you believe this?), I walked out of the shop. When I looked at the copy of the fax I wanted to punch a wall. There was no way that anyone would be able to see my face, because it was so dark. I realized that I didn’t have the patience to go back into that shop and stand in line, and the girl would probably burst into tears, so I decided that I would post it later.

After all this irritation, I decided that I would first go to the movies before I did anything else. I thought that this would calm me down, but it turns out that this is where the shit really hit the fan. I went to one of the self service ticket machines, which I knew would be a mistake. The ticket machines in Menlyn never work, but I know that it is preferred for customers to buy there, and I’d rather work with a machine than another rude cashier. I went through all the instructions and bought the ticket. And of course, after I paid for the ticket, it didn’t print. I wanted to kick the screen in. Why are these things here if they never work? I walked to the cashier and explained what had happened. Fortunately he wasn’t rude and printed the ticket and receipt (or so it seemed) and gave it to me. I proceeded to buy overpriced popcorn and Coke and went through to the cinema. I handed the man at the entrance the ticket (or what seemed to me to be the ticket). He looked at it for a moment and said flatly; “This is a receipt. It’s not a ticket.” I immediately felt my blood beginning to boil at his tone, but said as calmly as I could; “This is what the cashier gave me.” “No!” He snapped. “This is just a receipt. I want the receipt and the ticket.”

I knew that I had given him exactly what was given to me, but I put down my stuff and looked in my bag. And of course it wasn’t there. “Did you throw it away?” he asked in his aggressive tone, and I almost said why the fuck would I do that? But I simply said no. I realized that he wasn’t going to budge and he was getting more and more aggressive, so I decided to turn around and look if I had not perhaps dropped the ticket somewhere. I checked the places I had been, but it wasn’t there. I put my stuff on the table where they put salt for the popcorn and looked through my bag again. But like I knew it would be, there was nothing. Two girls stood at the table trying to decide what seasoning they wanted. I know that probably no one was watching me at that moment, but it suddenly felt like everyone was staring at me and finally my anxiety reached a point that I couldn’t handle anymore. It felt like someone had clasped their hand around my throat and was squeezing the last bit of life out of me. I felt like screaming; Fuck this shit! Fuck you all! Why are all you people so NORMAL? And why are the rest of you so RUDE? Screw you and your stupid movies!

 

I rushed away and realized that it looked weird that I was leaving the cinema with a full box of popcorn, so without even touching the popcorn, I threw it all in the trash. I considered doing the same thing to the Coke, but my mouth was so dry from anxiety and rage that I decided to keep it. Besides, I paid a shitload of money for it. I found a bench to sit on and just sat there drinking the Coke and trying to calm down. In hindsight I guess that wasn’t such a good idea, because caffeine and sugar don’t go well with anxiety. All I wanted to do at that very moment was get in my car and go home, but I had already decided that I didn’t ever want to go back to this mall unless I absolutely had to, so I deposited the money and bought the hard drive. Perhaps I was also trying to buy time because I wasn’t looking forward to going back into all that traffic filled with people who want to stab me in my face and burn me alive because I’m only driving the speed limit. But I finally got what I needed and left (after searching forever to find my car, because the parking is a bloody maze).

When I got home, I sat in my car for a long time. At first I was just playing music, and after a while I switched the music off and sat there in silence. Small droplets of rain started to trickle onto the windscreen. The rain always use to calm me, but now that I have a car it terrifies me because I’m scared that gigantic hailstones will fall from the sky and smash my car to smithereens. I also hate driving in the rain. Fortunately I wasn’t driving and the rain was soft.

The truth is that everything makes me anxious these days. I’ve always struggled with anxiety and stress, but every now and then it reaches a boiling point and I feel like I’m drowning. Yes, perhaps if those people weren’t assholes and everything at the mall worked perfectly I might not have freaked out like I did. But some people are simply assholes and they will die that way. I suppose that with hundreds of shops, it’s impossible for a mall to run perfectly smooth, but what do they care anyway? It’s not like they have competition. They are still going to make their money, whether I go there or not. Because that’s the way life works. It goes on, whether you are out there struggling and cursing your way through it, or whether you are sitting alone in your car in the rain.

And no one will notice if you don’t show up.

Follow me on Twitter

Standard
Because This Makes Me ANGRY, Rambling

Bring That (Classy) Booty Back!

I wasn’t really planning on writing a post today, but now I feel like writing one, because I feel like bitching and moaning. This horrible December heat is getting on my nerves and it just makes me want to kick everything. Anyway…

The other day I was on Twitter (as usual) and I saw something. It was a picture of a really curvy woman. Not the kind that you would see in the media these days, no. She would be considered “too heavy”. But then I saw something that I found very interesting. A few decades ago, that picture was used to depict the ideal body.

The perfect body, as described by Time Magazine in 1955.

The perfect body, as described by Time Magazine in 1955.

And then I punched a hole in the wall.

Okay, not really. The walls are made of bricks, so it would be kind of stupid to punch them. But I wanted to. Because this is OUTRAGEOUS! What happened to having meat on your bones and not fainting because you didn’t have lunch?

Now, I know that there is a change coming along in the industry. I think it started with Megan Trainor’s “All About That Bass”. People are seemingly starting to tire of the stick figure body types, but not necessarily in the right way. Yes, I’m talking about Nicki Minaj and Kim Kardashian, shoving their naked, oiled up asses in our faces. Sure, they aren’t anorexic (by far), but this culture of having to whore yourself out to get somewhere is getting out of hand. There is nothing wrong with being sexy, but when you take it to that level you start becoming ridiculous. Men aren’t looking at those pictures and saying, Oh wow, look at those strong, independent women. No, they are thinking: Look at that easy lay. I’ll make her scream when I get her on her back!

 

It’s not only something that happens to women. I know that my career probably would be much better off if I had a six pack. Since 2012, I have lost 15kg, and people treat me much differently now. Why? Because skinny people have it easier in that regard. I’m glad that I lost the weight, because I feel more comfortable with myself now, but you need to understand that I did it for myself. Exercise is good for me specifically because it helps me fight depression. If I do happen to get it right to get a six pack somewhere in the future, that’ll be nice, but once again it will be for myself. Because I’m more than a piece of meat. I’m talented and I have a brain. I’ve given up on being the pretty boy, because I wasn’t meant to be that. I was meant to be more than that, and so were you.

Standard