Rants & Raves of Jasmine's Fiction

Strip, Baby!

No I have not taken up pole dancing as a hobby, nor have I gone to a Chippendale’s club.  I went for a bikini Brazilian wax at a new salon yesterday evening and the place is called Strip.  Very apt if you ask me.

It does everything that my regular spa doesn’t do – manicures, pedicures and of course waxing.  Oh joy I can deforest as well as get my digits blinged out.  Sorry, was that overshare?

Well TOO BAD!  There’s more to come!  :P

The place is decked out kinda urban warehouse like; cement floors, concrete ceiling and lots of aluminum and backed with eletronica lounge music.  All in all, not too bad.  I sign in to the friendly receptionist, and she calls my waxer over.  And this girl (who looks like she’s tweaked on some industrial strength uppers or about 7 cups of coffee) prances over like a hyperactive cheerleader and very cheerily introduces herself to me.

I’m getting a wee bit freaked.  Not about the waxing.  About tweaker waxer girl.

She leads me into a very clean small room and in her same tweaked out voice in fast forward she instructs me to “remove all my bottoms and towel up on the bench.”  Still beaming dementedly, she skips out and closes the door to “give me privacy”. 

Right, she’ll be seeing my nether regions in about 20 seconds but she still leaves to give me privacy.  *boggle*

I do as I’m told and she cavorts back in with latex gloves on.  Ceremoniously folding back the towel I had on, she does a quick examination of my bikini area.  Then flashing me a HUGE grin she tells me, “wah, your hair down there veri fine, hor?”

I’m like……………………………………………… Uh I guess I’ll take your word for it.

Then grin still firmly in place, she proceeds to tell me that since I’m so uh, ‘fine haired’ she can use the regular vanilla FLAVOURED wax on me and there’ll be no need to break out the stronger chocolate variety.  Er, okay.

Then she asks while pointing to a poster, “So ALL OFF or I wax a design for you?”

What designs can you wax your nether regions to then?  Well, there’s:

The Landing Strip;  The Triangle;  The Down Arrow; The Up Arrow;  The T;  or you can get other shapes like a Lightning Bolt or a Heart.

Then, tweaker waxer girl looks at my bikini area again and announces happily that I can get a Heart because my “veri fine hair down there alreadi growing in a heart shape so veri perfect.”

>.<

I’ve been waxing for a LONG time but this is the VERY FIRST time in my LIFE that I’ve had THIS much CONVERSATION with my bikini waxer!!!  I mean, it’s easy for her!  She’s NOT NAKED from the waist down!!!

So I point to a design (not telling which one I picked, geeze that’s private!) and she cheerfully begins ripping stuff off.  And yes, it does hurt.  But I’m a regular so it really only hurts just a smidgen.  Nothing you’d scream about.

One thing I’ll say about tweaker waxer girl though – once she started she was very professional, very neat and very FAST.  It was over in less than 12 minutes. 

HOWEVER, she kept up her fast forward conversation, even pausing for a couple of times for a few seconds to admire my nails and to whisper conspiratorially to me about one of her male clients:

“Wah, I got shock!  LIKE MONKEY!!!  5 hour you know I did for him full bodi wax!  Arm, leg, back, chest, tummi, ‘down there’ and then summore have to trim for him first his hair so veri LONG!”

LOL.  I guess there are benefits to having a talkative waxer.  Lots of stories to blog about.

So.  If you’re in my area and would like to try out a new stripperama, this is the place to be.  Drop me a line for Strip’s contact details.  If you dare.  And ask for Jackie.  That’s the tweaker waxer girl.

The Balance

I just finished reading through the first book of Sergey Lukyanenko’s fantasy horror tetralogy (meaning 4 books) Ночной дозор.  And I’m a little mind f**ked right now.  His philosophy is so twisted it boggles my puny little mind.  And as much as I love his writings (I’m tearing through the 2^nd book Дневной дозор now) I feel the need to curl up into a little ball in a corner somewhere and let it all sink in.

Anyway, before I get really deep into the twisty bits here’s the storyline in a general overview:

For as long as humanity existed, there have been ‘Others’ among us.  Magic users, shapeshifters, undeads; all soldiers in the eternal struggle between Light & Darkness.

The Light protects all, the Darkness destroys all.  So for many millennia both side waged their war, using any means necessary to achieve victory before the realisation that if the war was to continue, neither side would survive.

So a Grand Treaty was struck between the leaders of the two parties, making a set of laws to govern the way all Others use their powers.  And to uphold this truce, the Soldiers of Light created the Night Watch and The Soldiers of Darkness created the Day Watch to ensure that neither side would violate the Treaty.

And so thus the Balance is created.  And this is where my mind gets a little scrambled.  You see, as a Soldier of Light, you can’t just simply compel people into becoming saints and doing good whenever you feel like it.  As a Warrior of Darkness, you can’t just rampage as you please, consuming everything in your path and sowing hate and despair.

The Treaty states that no one can be forced to do good or evil; people must be allowed to choose freely for themselves.  So for each good deed a Light Other does, it allows a Dark Other to destroy something in return.  And vice versa.  The Balance must always be kept in check.

So imagine a world where you have the ability (saying that you’re a Light Other) to cure a village suffering from the Plague.  You do just that but it was unsanctioned, and in order to keep the balance, you will be arrested by the Day Watch and put to trial which will ultimately end in your permanent termination.  Then in order to ‘fix’ your little tip or power in favour of the Light, the demons of Darkness will kill/eat/ the same amount of innocent people that you saved.  And it would be justified by both parties.

The duality of things really caught me – its-Newton-’s-law at its most basic:  Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.  The simplicity of this philosophy is what makes Lukyanenko’s writing so compelling, and so freaking complex!  And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.  That’s not even the main story yet!

Reading the Ночной дозор kinda made me feel like I was watching The Matrix for the first time – all the “What If” possibilities.  And it freaks me out.  Not to mention this book makes me wanna learn to seriously read Cyrillic/Russian so I can read it in its original language.

I’d write more but I’m too busy finishing off Дневной дозор now. Dasvedanya!

Generation Gap

“What movies have you watched lately Jasz?  Are you looking forward to anything?”

“Well, the last movie I caught was Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer but what I really want to watch is Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and Transformers.”

“Errrrrrr, Transformers.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, seems to be a kiddy movie.”

“HAHA!  It’s only a kiddy movie to YOU luv.  You weren’t a part of the generation that grew up with those cartoons…  When those were popular you were already grown up!  HAHA!”

“Aw shaddup!”

“Not my fault you’re an old man.”

~~~

For the record, my mate is only 38 this year.  But I am right about him not being a part of the Transformers generation. 

He couldn’t remember cartoons like:

Voltron (5 robot cats that combine into a super humanoid robot);

Thundercats (raise your hands if you can name them all and remember Mumrah’s transformation chant);

Silverhawks (which was to me a futuristic space version of Thundercats);

Saber Rider & The Star Sheriffs (Anime style action cartoon and I‘m humming the theme song in my head);

G.I. Joe (I still have the little action figure with the grappling hook and the jet pack back pack!);

M.A.S.K. (how many of those cars did you collect?);

Dino-Riders (reptiles & humans warring in prehistoric dinosaur infested earth with alien technology);

He-Man (who can forget Skeletor on his

Snake

Mountain

);

and his long lost twin sister on another planet She-Ra (I still can’t get over her stupid name);

Robotech (anime style Transformers) and that’s just to name a few.

It’s just like how my nephews & nieces now are all about the 3-D Rolly-Polly-Ollie, Jimmy Neutron & Finding Nemo...  GAWD!  When I was their age I was watching hand drawn Disney cartoons that took 6 years to produce,

Sesame Street

and Fraggle Rock.  Yes puppets were big then.  CGI wasn’t invented yet.

What a long way we have come.  One of my girlfriend’s 4 year old doesn’t even know what a VCR is.  All he knows is TIVO and DVD.  And my 38 year old mate?  He doesn’t know what a blog is, and I had to educate him on the finer points of bidding on eBay and how to sign up for a PayPal account.  Heck, I even had to tell him what “LOL” meant!!!

What is also eye opening is when I chat to my students about the newfangled computer games they play – I love how they call games made in the 90ies like Diablo and Doom ‘Old School’.  To me, old school is games like Alleycat (on DOS, remember that?) or Prince of Persia or Lode Runner or even Legend of Zelda.  Basic graphics, basic storyline, repetitive scenarios & challenges and its IMPOSSIBLE to finish.  The game just got harder and harder till it became humanly impossible for you to keep up.  But nowadays, it’s all about preserving the fragile egos of the child psyche so games are all easy as pie.  It’s all just about the awesome graphics.

Speaking of awesome graphics – these new PS3, Wii, X-Box etc has games that look like movies!!!  Super Mario will never be the same for me again!!!  And some of you Atari loving folks would remember the first ‘tennis’ game – PONG.  That consisted of 2 little platforms opposite each other and a bouncing 4 pixel little SQUARE.  Not sphere.  Square.  Now THAT’S Old School!

Now Wii has this über tennis game with a handheld, motion detection sensor that actually physically allows you to ‘swing’ and ‘hit’ the ball.  Don’t even get me started on Guitar Heroes.  So I thought I’d share a comic from Penny Arcade regarding the Wii and playing Sports on it…

In the meantime, I’m going to finish reading my books (yes I read off paper – none of these newfangled PDFs for me!) while I wait for the premiere of Transformers.  Enjoy the poster.  AUTOBOTS, ROLL OUT!

Twisted Negativity

Shortly after posting yesterday’s entry, my [now former] friend sent me a message admonishing me for being an uncaring and unfeeling meanie in regards to people with depression.

So feeling very unjustly accused, I emphasised strongly that I was not bitching about people with depression, but was ranting about self centred people who THINK they have a RIGHT to be depressed and entertain suicidal thoughts.  F#@$ I hate it when people don’t read properly before trying to shove their self righteous opinions down my throat.

Then this [now former] friend whom I shall now call NFF then tried to justify himself.  “But Jasz, if one thinks that they are depressed; then they MUST be depressed no?”

So I countered that with, “Yes, if one does have a VALID reason to be depressed i.e. a medical diagnosis of clinical depression then fine, thou art depressed.  And even then one has to get help for that condition and not just sit on their rears and do nothing.”

I then got slapped with this website and NFF’s self pitying “did you read what it said on the webpage?  ‘Those with depression think it must be them.  Pointlessness and self-loathing govern them.’  It GOVERNS them.  And it’s so true.  I mean, I for one went through it a little – and I didn’t have any real reason for being depressed but the feeling just kept eating me up.”

He earned himself a great big SCOFF from me right then.  I told him, “Indeed, and if you remember correctly I stopped talking to you then.  You weren’t seeing reason.  People have a choice – you can give up and let it consume you or you can fight it.  That is my whole point – it is the will to fight but most of these SCSCDSP (self centred so called depressed & suicidal people) don’t WANT to solve the problem.”  And then I slapped him back with his website.  “It also says on the website that DEPRESSION IS TREATABLE.  What I’m ranting about are the people who don’t want to.”

NFF then sneered at me with a smug, “do YOU actually know how to treat depression?”

Sure I do, idiot.  Let me pull out my medical degree from my left nostril and shove it up your rear end.  However, what I do know is that Clinical Depression can be diagnosed and fixed with medication (hello, Prozac), therapy, eating happy feel good food and doing things you enjoy with people you love.  And that is just from a logical point of view.  Depression for Dummies:  Get professional help.  Like, duh.

However, still trying to force feed his opinions to me NFF then said, “I suppose you could do all that in the early stages of depression but I don’t know Jasz, it’s a really hard one to call.  I mean, even you stopped talking to me.  Some people are resistant to getting help and it also varies depending on what you’re depressed about and your personality traits.  One could be a high introvert who just wants to detract from everything.  Not everyone has the same kind of willpower you have.  I can’t help it if you don’t see my point.  You can go on being mean about them but I on the other hand empathise with them.”

All together now:  OMG he still doesn’t get it.  I’m ranting about the people who are resistant to getting help.  The people who think they have the bloody effing right to be depressed.  NOT the people who have clinical depression and are truly suffering from a medical problem.  Am I really that much of a mean, unfeeling bitch because I do not feel that these self indulgent asshats deserve my empathy, sympathy and attention? 

WELL THEY ARE GETTING JACK SHIT FROM ME!

The Maker gave us all free will – the freedom of choice (and to make decisions), freedom (and ability) to change your status in life, freedom to change your mindset and make your life better but these people don’t even WANT to try.  But what NFF is accusing me of is that I devalue what people with real depression are suffering, that I am trying to impose my strong will on these poor people who are physically unable to ‘snap out of it’.  And he is WRONG to assume and accuse me so because as I’ve already stated, that’s not the point I’m trying to make.  And that just PISSES ME OFF.

So I really put my foot down.  I told him under no uncertain terms, “I don’t have a problem with people who have been diagnosed to be clinically depressed.  What I ranted about in the blog are about people who REFUSE to try to change – I mean, if one feels so strongly about suicide shouldn’t one be getting help?  It is all too easy to go to a doctor, a psychologist, a psychiatrist even.  It is all too easy to get medical help for a valid medical problem.  Why should depression be different from any other illness – say cancer for example.  If a friend of yours had cancer you’d force them to go get treatment so they can get better right?  People who have cancer fight it.  People with depression should as well.  Its not different at all – cancer can be terminal, and depression can be as well (albeit from the end of a gun barrel, the roof of a building or a bottle of weed killer) so why don’t people treat it the same way?  And the website you gave me emphasises how people can be treated successfully – the odds of a cure is better for depression than it is for cancer.  Stick to the topic.  I am talking about people who refuse to get help, who refuse to accept help, who refuse to change their point of view and who refuse to listen to LOGIC and REASON and POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT because they’d prefer to wallow in their own self indulgent suicidal depression.”

Then, still not happy because I’m refusing to budge from my standpoint he whined, “MY point is even those people need help too, even when they don’t want it or refuse it but the sad fact is at some point the world is not able to help them.”

OMFG.  Give me a bloody flipping break!  You see, that’s the problem with these selfish bastards.  EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAS TO BE ABOUT THEM.  So I replied, “You my [NF]F, and all these egocentric people started out with friends who cared, who meant very well, who tried to help and tried to make a difference.  You, and all these selfish asswipes, pushed your friends away, and then blame us for leaving!”

“But…”  For crying out loud he’s still not finished.  He continued, “Isn’t it obvious that something happened that made them do that.  Who knows what’s going on in their heads, I don’t diss them simply because I can’t profess to know everything that has gone on in their lives.  I got depressed because I kept thinking about the negative areas like what I didn’t have, what I was missing etc.  So I do feel for these people who chose the path to destruction.  I care about the people who ‘don’t deserve it.’  I can only hope that YOU do as well Jasz.”

You smug, self righteous, piece of shit.  I mean, he can’t even see that he contradicts himself and he refuses to see that he is dragging out this argument for his own petty reasons – for him to feel justified that he has a right to be ‘depressed’ and that I should feel sorry for him.  Textbook ‘oh boo hoo, I’m so wronged, no one cares, my life sucks, you should all feel sorry for me, I want to die’ bullshit.

Well NNF and the rest of them can suck my dick.  I will not waste emotion, pity and effort to try to help these undeserving f#@$tards because there are others out there who deserve it more.  Like the disabled, the sick, the poor, the elderly, the decrepit and the victims of crimes & war.

So after all that, I clicked on Block User Forever and opened my Facebook (y’all should join up and then add me, it’s awesome – it’s free!) to Ripple and happily clicked away to support my charities (you folks should as well).  I am not an uncaring, unfeeling meanie.  I will admit to being a cold hearted and callous bitch some days but deep down inside, y’all know I’m the biggest softie around.  Just ask my real friends.

Boo, 'Cide, Be A Man

There are numerous reasons why I enjoy conversing with my mate Sooba so much but the main reason has to be the topics that we discuss.  I think over the months that we’ve been talking we’ve covered quite a range of issues from current world affairs, Freudian behaviour and even hentai trends and relationship issues.  Mostly, our little chats are controversial enough for me to NOT reprint it here.

But yesterday, he broached a very peculiar subject.  He asked me, “Jasz, do you know any suicidal people?  I mean, have you ever come across or interacted with people like that?  I actually want to know how they eventually got out of it, whichever way that was.”

Well, I do have a story - a friend of long ago lived a relatively sad life of self abuse and depression and after shacking up with a very married partner my friend ultimately caused the destruction of partner’s relationship and offspring estrangement.  After the death of said partner to cancer several unhappy years later, my friend ended it all at the end of a gun barrel.

After a lot of cringing, Sooba eventually ‘fessed up on why he broached the subject.  He has an acquaintance that’s relatively suicidal – pushing 30, still living at home with his folks, can’t earn much, no social life, no romantic partner, no achievements and he thinks he’s an all round failure; therefore he frequently entertains morbid thoughts like these.

Sooba, being the very nice person that he is, tried to downplay So Called Suicidal Boy’s (henceforth referred to as SCSB) uh, problem by commenting that “it’s a competitive world”.  I however have no such sympathy.

I said that sometimes a lot of these So Called Suicidal People (SCSP) are self destructive – they fear the release of their “issues”, preferring to use it as a crutch unto which they heap all their anger and ‘suffering’ upon.  I believe that they, at some level (whether conscious or subconscious) CHOOSE to be the way they are – fearing happiness and not wanting to make a difference in their lives when they have the power to do so.

My mate agreed with me.  He said, “It is not like these people listen to advice anyway.  They turn away friends, they choose to remain difficult, they choose not to change their opinions even when it is obvious that what they are doing is not the best option and they blame everyone and the whole world for their problems.”

My point exactly.  I firmly believe that it is the fear of letting go and being happy that is truly the problem. 

In the immortal words of Jedi Master Yoda:

          Fear Leads To Anger,

          Anger Leads To Hate,

          Hate Leads to Suffering.

And THAT ladies & gentlemen, is the true path of the Dark Side.

Some of you will think I’m too harsh and uncaring.  C’mon!  It’s not like SCSB and the rest of these SCSP have any REAL issues to be depressed about.  No debt; no need to support children or invalid family members; no health problems; not living in a war torn country; not suffering from famine; not being abused with no education, no money and no way out; not dying from a terminal illness etc.

Give ME a break.  No social life?  Not much spending money?  No achievements to speak of?  How shallow can you effing get?  These are all tangible things that you can change about yourself and your station.  Get a 2^nd job, change to a better paying job, join a social group, take lessons, volunteer at a charity event or organization, go back to school, whatever it takes!  It’s not like SCSB and the other SCSP are 15 and pregnant and forced to wander the streets homeless and starving and freezing to death in the cold. 

These self indulgent bastards!!!

You want suffering?  Talk to the women who are forced to prostitute themselves for a dollar a client so that their families won’t starve.  They risk daily exposure to STIs and HIV and they have the grisly task of letting strange, disgusting, smelly men feel them up and have sex with them.  For ONE DOLLAR!

What about the poor folk who were born with no limbs or had them blown off in landmines, or had them rotted off from disease?  They drag their stumps of a body across the filthy streets everyday, scavenging for whatever crumbs they find and the odd coin, unable to pay for prosthetics or medical aid of any sort.

And the old folks who are the hardcore poor and living in cold climate countries?  They have no families to care for them, no money to get shelter or clothing of any sort to keep warm in the cold, their governments have no social aid system, and these 70/80/90 year old people are forced to haul garbage and waste for a few cents per kg to scrap enough together for a meagre meal, maybe once every 2 days.

I can’t even continue.  These are REAL problems, and I’ll even allow for clinically manic depressive and single parenthood to be valid problems.  But SCSB and all the SCSP?  Fuck them.

These self centred, whining, attention seeking arsewipes self bestow martyrdom upon themselves, demanding that the world owes them a living and an apology.  They glamourise suicidal thoughts and inflict their negative behaviour upon well meaning friends. Oh boo hoo, I’m so wronged, no one cares, my life sucks, you should all feel sorry for me, I want to die.

So go crawl into a hole and die.  Do us all a favour and wipe yourself off the gene pool.  No wait.  These weenies don’t even have the courage to do that!  But they will however, happily (or sadly) ignore well wishing, positive encouragement to put them into perspective because it is things that they DON’T WANT TO HEAR.  The turn a deaf ear, or worst get angry and tell you off for trying to care.  They are young, healthy and able bodied, with family and friends, jobs and education opportunities yet they choose to sit in the darkness complaining about it instead of switching on the light.

No, they want everything given to them on a silver platter – easy life, upmarket lifestyle, friends who will pet and worship them, prefect relationships, whatever!  Yet they don’t stop to think of how unreasonable and unrealistic they are!  They demand much and have so many requirements but they never stop to look at themselves and reflect on what qualities and they have to offer (or bargain with) the other party.

Sigh.  Lord, grant me the wisdom to accept things that I cannot change and the ability to change things that I cannot accept. Because Lord, if I pray for strength I will beat people to death.

Cost Of Complacency

My dearest friend who saves lives on a daily basis in-Glasgow-sent me this; and IMHO I feel that this is worthy of reading and further thought.

So in the risk of offending everyone and maybe even getting myself blocked and banned from blogging, I feel that I must pass this on to do my part in the hope that peace will one day prevail.

~~~

A man whose family was German aristocracy prior to World War II owned a number of large industries and estates. When asked how many Germans were true Nazis, the answer he gave can guide our attitude towards fanaticism.

“Very few people were true Nazis,” he said.  “But many enjoyed the return of German pride and many more were too busy to care. I was one of those who just thought the Nazis were a bunch of fools.”

“So the majority just sat back and let it all happen. Then, before we knew it, they owned us. We had lost control and the end of the world had come. My family lost everything, I ended up in a concentration camp and the Allies destroyed my factories.”

We are told again and again by experts and talking heads that Islam is the religion of peace; that the vast majority of Muslims just want to live in peace.

Although this is assertion may be true, it is entirely irrelevant.

It is meaningless, only words meant to make us feel better; meant to somehow diminish the spectre of fanatics rampaging across the globe in the name of Islam.  The fact is that the fanatics rule Islam at this moment of history.

Fanatics are the ones who march.  Fanatics are the ones who wage any one of 50 shooting wars worldwide. Fanatics are the ones who systematically slaughter tribal groups throughout-Africa-and are gradually taking over the entire continent. Fanatics are the ones who bomb, behead, murder, honour kill.  Fanatics are the ones who stone and hang rape victims and homosexuals.

The hard quantifiable fact is that the ‘peaceful majority’ is the ‘silent majority’ and it is cowed and extraneous.

It is not only Muslims and Nazis that are guilty.  Communist-Russia-comprised of Russians who just wanted to live in peace, yet the Russian Communists were responsible for the murder of 20 million people. 0China’s-huge population is peaceful as well but Chinese Communists managed to kill a staggering 70 million people.

The average Japanese individual prior to World War II was not a warmongering sadist. But-Japan-murdered and slaughtered its way across-South-East-Asia-in an orgy of killing that included the systematic murder or 12 million Chinese civilians – with a sword, shovel and bayonet.

And who can forget-Rwanda-which collapsed into butchery.  Can it not be said that the majority of innocent Rwandans are peace loving? What about-South-Africa-and-South-America-and-Ireland-and-Korea-and-Afganistan-and-Iraq;-everything that is happening in those countries are because of fanatics.  The peaceful majority is irrelevant.  Innocent blood is spilt because the peaceful majority did not speak up till it was too late.

For all of us who watch it unfold; WE must pay attention to the only group that matters; the FANATICS who threaten our way of life.

So You Think You Can Dance?

Oh yeah baby, step aside!  Dance Diva coming through.

Last night marked the first time I’ve gone back dancing since a long spell of inactivity due to injury (dislocated ankle requiring 8 months to recover), illness (fiddly drawn out nonsense), very active social life (party party party) and just plain laziness (snore zzzzz).

But since last week when my sister brought home 3 episodes of freshly downloaded, brand spanking new season of So You Think You Can Dance – I got bitten by the dance bug and I HAD to go back.

For those of you who don’t know my dance history, I’ve been dancing since I was about 6 years old. I did Ballet of course, and yes I did spend a lot of time in a frilly tutu.  Then when I was 12, I hit the ‘professional’ stage.  [In dance terms when we say professional we mean paid in $$$ and the work is considered commercial]  I got work performing at product launches, tourism shows, grand openings, recitals, shopping mall carnivals and even on the special events like Christmas and New Year galas.  Then from the age of 17 to 20 I went commercial fulltime during my college years.

It was only in my final year at university that I stopped all professional dance activities and went free raving.  Then after an abortive stint at working a ‘real job’, I left and started teaching fulltime – Ballroom, Latin & South American being some of the subjects that I taught.

When I finally switched to teaching English fulltime did my dancing career dwindle down to social dance parties and the odd salsa competition and the sporadic practice runs at my ‘godfather’s’ studio.  Right up till the point when my ankle decided to become a resting cushion for my fat arse during martial arts class.  Oh well.

But now, I’M BACK!  Last night’s cha-cha-cha showed that even after a year of inactivity, I still got the moves. My technique although a bit rusty is still impeccable; my hip movement still sexy; my arm styling still original; and the steps I got back after a basic run through, proving I still got what it takes. WOOHOO!

Now I need to widen my repertoire of dances.  One of the reasons why I love So You Think You Can Dance is because they showcase many different styles and the talent pool is just simply incredible.  For those of you who are uninitiated about the format of this show, it follows [insert preferred country] Idol to a T because the executive producer and co-creator of both Idol and Dance is legend Nigel Lythgow.  So it starts with auditions in front of 3 judges, you have 45 seconds to impress them with your routine. If they think you are awesome, you go straight through to Vegas. If you suck, you get the no and you go home after bitching to the cameras. If they are not sure, you get sent to the choreography round where you have to learn a routine and show it off to the judges, proving that you can pick up steps.

It’s much more awesome than Idol because there’s seriously less bitchy diva behaviour. And did I mention the talent involved???  There’s the hip shaking Latin dancers, the floor rolling fan kicking Lyrical artists, the lindy hopping Swingers, the acrobatic Breakers, the robotic Poppers etc and the judges!!! I mean, Wade Robson!!!  OMG!!!  And Shane Sparks!!!  And Mary Murphy!!!

But I like the concept that the top 20 dancers are paired off at random and they pick the dance for the week at random so everyone gets a different genre and a different routine, regardless if they’ve danced that style before or not. Then dancers get to work for a week with a very renowned choreographer and performance night they show off how much they’ve mastered the style that they’ve picked. Then it’s up to the viewers to vote for their favourites and the bottom 3 couples will each have to perform a solo to stay in the competition. Here’s the best bit.  Unlike Idol where it can sometimes be more of a popularity contest than a talent contest, the decision on which 2 of the bottom 6 dancers gets kicked out is decided by the JUDGES – ultimately preserving the integrity of the talent pool.

So, if any of you folks on my side of the planet would like to start dancing or have any ‘non-mainstream’ dance styles that you’d like to recommend to me (cardio pole dancing included) please don’t hesitate to drop me a line. And gentlemen, seriously.  The ability to dance really does up your market value.  Now if you would all excuse me, I need to fix my blisters.

The Sweet Life

“Hey, Jasz?”

“Yes luv?”

“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you this but I’ve never been quite drunk enough to screw up enough courage to ask…”

“God mate, please don’t propose!  Your wedding is tomorrow.”

“Haha, nothing like that, its just… Well…”

“Spit it out, I’m too drunk to care either way.”

“Well you know when I first met you over, what; 9 years ago you were like… HOT.”

“HAHA I still am hot, what’s your point?”

“I know but you were like really skinny hot. What happened?”

“I discovered that food was not to be eaten only for survival purposes. I now eat for enjoyment, and that is what happened.  Besides, I really love my boobs this size now!”

“From what I can see from where I’m sitting I agree!”

“Careful luv, don’t forget your wedding tomorrow!”

“Yeah but I can still look right?”

“Eh, go ahead.  As long as your wife doesn’t come after me for flaunting my cleavage all is good.”

~~~

If you are wondering what kind of skinny hot I was 9 years ago? Think Natalie Portman in Episode 2.  Right now I’m more Renée Zellweger in Bridget Jones.  But you know what? I don’t really give 2 fucks at this point.

What is the point of being stick insect thin really? To fit clothes better?  Or to fit society’s perception better?  Okay if your cholesterol levels are off the charts and your BMI is in the dangerous zone, or if you’re 300 pounds over what’s considered medically healthy, then yes – something needs to be done.

But to be skinny solely to be considered ‘hot’?  C’mon, my self esteem (and body confidence) levels are much higher than the average anorexic teen and I have other things to flaunt besides looking like a clothes rack. Like my bodacious boobies and my black chick booty.  Not to mention that I’m 177% smarter & funnier than the average anorexic teen, and probably more than 60% of women in my age group. (Don’t believe me?  My Mensa score of 143 will attest to that.)  But I digress. My point is that I don’t need to be skinny to be considered ‘hot’.

C’mon, life is meant to be LIVED to the fullest. Why wouldn’t anyone deprive themselves from food is beyond me. Some of you would remember that I lamented about needing to go on a DIEt a while back.  Well I’ve since discovered that although meal replacement shakes really aren’t all that bad, it really doesn’t replace the ENJOYMENT I get from eating a really awesome meal.

Most of you who has ever had a meal with me will know that I’m the kind of person who really savours flavours in its entirety.  It’s all about taste. And calories be dammed.  Give me rare steak with a giant baked potato smothered in butter, sour cream, chives and bacon; chocolate filled sugar glazed doughnuts with coffee; full sized continental breakfast with eggs (with the yolk), ham, french toast, beans, bacon, mushrooms, cheese and fruit; real cream sauce; real chocolate; real butter even…

And I believe that living shouldn’t only apply to food!  Sigmund Freud once said “the only unnatural sexual behaviour is none at all.”  The world would be a better place if everyone enjoyed everything that they did – be it eating or working or shagging and just generally having fun.

And speaking of fun, I’m heading to the studio for some cha-cha-cha and after I’m going for ice-cream. Oh yeah baby, I’m living the sweet life.

Your Phone, Ringing It Is

Yes, I know you have the newest most terribly expensive phone.  Yes, I know that your terribly fashionable ringtone is the latest song by the coolest artist.  Yes, I know that someone terribly important is trying desperately to get a hold of you to make a life altering decision for them. Yes, your phone, ringing it is, answer you must.

And then by all means, take your eyes off the road and one hand off your steering wheel to fumble in your pocket/handbag for that wailing piece of technology;

and and and…

with your eyes still off the road you proceed remove your other hand off the steering wheel (replacing it with your knees) to gab and gesticulate pointedly, even though the person on the other end of the line can’t see you!

Brilliant I say.  That’s like, blind driving and multitasking at its zenith.

NOT!

Oh and believe me this doesn’t only apply to people who drive. Even the wheel-less are not exempt from blind road crossings.

Why the rant today?  Because I almost ran over this idiot who was, get this; not driving but WALKING across the road while gabbing on his phone – completely OBLIVIOUS to the moving vehicle aiming straight for him!

C’mon, that was so totally not my fault. I know I have road rage everytime I get behind the wheel of my car but seriously, I was driving at 8kmph because I was looking for a parking spot and this phone talking moron just saunters across the street. I mean, he didn’t even NOTICE I was less than a metre away!

So…  I hit the horn.  And I almost pissed in my pants laughing when the idiot almost did a backflip from the shock when he realised that he was 2 seconds away from being roadkill.

Seriously though, did you know that risk of motor vehicles crashes QUARDRUPLES (means x4) when driving while talking on the phone – and injuries are usually serious enough to warrant hospitalisation? And that 89% of these crashes involve additional vehicles?  And that 75% of all phone related crashes happened in clear weather conditions?

People, the ban on phones while driving are there for a reason. I know our respective governments can be quite ridiculous most of the time but I wholeheartedly agree with the laws against driving & phoning. And after today I’m all for banning people from WALKING & phoning.

Think about it, how many times have you needed to overtake/avoid a swerving car only to find out when you pass that the erratic and reckless driving was because the driver was on the phone? Or the morons who walk in the middle of the road shooting off their traps into the phones that have seemingly melded to their arms; unaware of their surroundings and oncoming vehicles? Or even MORE better; the motorcyclists with their phones jammed up their unbuckled helmets as a makeshift hands free kit?

Don’t even get me started about the irritating asshats who answer their phones at the theatre or in the middle of a date; and (not a personal experience) people who answer their phones in the middle of sex. Like hello?  Is nothing sacred anymore?

Sigh.  Into each life a few phones must ring. And speaking of which, excuse me, I’ll get it!