Competitors Ready?

In an world where jobs are becoming harder and harder to come by, it seems that now, more than ever, there is a need to prove ourselves...

But, considering the massive population that surrounds us, how can we be sure we'll ever make it?

There are millions of blogs being read daily, each the property of some aspiring writer, gossip watch dog or someone with something to share. Each has a select group of followers, sure, so it's safe to think that there'll be someone to follow my blogs... but how can we ever know if it's going to be good enough to get us where we want to go? I read alot, and can honestly say that there are a LOT of talented writers in the world, so how do I make it? What can I do to set myself apart from the rest of the millions in this world?

I suppose the same goes for most art forms. A percentage of skill is no doubt involved, and the rest falls on talent, practice and oportunity.

I wonder, though, how much of 'it' all comes down to faith? In yourself, in your chosen art form, in the opportunities 'the universe will provide' if you believe in that sort of thing. Think I'll give it a try...

Looking to find some faith,

Dreaming of Daisy Fields...

R

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It's the way you make me feel...

There seems to be this massive rush for couples to fall in love. Like if you’re not there by the appropriate timeline slot then your relationship is obviously not ok, or you’re not ok or you’re partner isn’t ok.

I am starting to think that just because something isn’t spoken about, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. I feel like some of the most beautiful things in the world are the ones we DON’T talk about. The ones words can’t describe.

Instead, I’ve been watching the actions of my ‘Love’r. And should it ever come down to the question of whether or not I am loved, I know I am. It’s all there, in the affection, in the way I feel around him. As though I am the centre of every universe. Treasured, respected and above all appreciated.

I’m not sure what the ‘accepted’ definition of love is, but for me, this is everything and more.

So, in a socially acceptable lingo, while we may not openly be confessing our love for each other, there is love in our relationship, and that, for me, is all I need to know...

Hearts in my eyes,

Dreaming of Daisy Fields...

R

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City Lights at Night...

There's something about city lights at night that completely soothes my soul.

In fact, they move me SO much that I often think about ways in which I could live a regular life yet be completely nocturnal.

Sunsets, sunrises, they move me too, but nothing beats a big, full moon, shining stars and a horizon full of twinkling lights.

I've found a little 'spot' down by th harbour that both serves cocktails and allows me to view nothing but dark rippling water and shining lights... mesmerizing.

How lucky am I to be live in a city that has enough electricity to fuel daydreams, barring a few loadshedding incidents of course. I don't even need to go anywhere. I can view a tiny dip full of lights from my back garden... *sigh*

Think I'll go drink some wine out there right now...

Mesmerized by beauty,

Dreaming of Daisy Fields...

R

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His name is Max.

and he has NO idea how cool he is!!!!!

I’ve been home alone for about 2 weeks. Didn't jump on the plane to Mauritius with everyone else... damn it Carl. Gets a little lonely. Would invite friends over, but by the time I’m home from work, have done some varsity work, made dinner, I really just want to chill out and watch some tv before turning in. Sound like a granny, I know, but entertaining/ talking to someone has just been the last thing I’ve felt like doing.

Coming home to an empty house all the time is also a little hard. Seem to have gotten used to telling someone about where I’ve been that day, what I’ve done etc.

So really... I found only one set of ears that I could tell my stories to, without having to provide any entertainment, or stay up till they were ready to go to bed.

His name is Max. Or Maximillian. Or Maximus. Or, when I’m feeling a bit European, Marsimo. He’s older than he, or I will have you believe, and he is a great big hunk of a Rottweiler.

An absolute winner, he is! I’ve found myself saying good morning to him. Giving a “You have a good day now,” as I’m heading out in the morning, and sighing with guilt as I close the door on those big not-so-much-of-a-puppy eyes at night. “Night baby,” I seem to say.

Really? Am I talking to my dog like he's a friend of mine? Does he know I’m having a lengthy conversation with him? Surely he does, as he understands me when I tell him to go around the house at dinner time. I wonder what he’s thinking.

Probably wondering why this weird lady keeps talking to him like he’s a pup. Or why he can’t have what I’m having for dinner [he’s on a strict diet!!! No lies!] He’s probably wishing I would wake up 10 minutes earlier to take him for a walk, instead of moaning at him when he ventures out on his own. Or that I’d drink my tea out of the veranda so he can have some close company, and some one to slobber on.

Maybe he’s wondering what I’m on about when I ask him to take good care of the house and I whilst I’m visiting DreamLand. Or just pondering over my incessant fear of the dark.

Really wish I knew...

Either way, I just realised, as my house mates arrived home today, how much I miss him when there are people around.

Think I might just go have that tea outside.

Wishing you could talk back,

Dreaming of daisy fields...

R

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Yes, No, Maybe. I'm not really sure...

Having a relaxed relationship is great. There's no pressure regarding who's going to pop out the L word first, where it's going. There's a sort of 'what will be will be' air, and it's quite refreshing.

However, it also sucks. I'm feeling like a cliche'd, naggy girl. Unable to express my happiness for you, when deep down I'm overflowing with excitement. I don't WANT to have THAT conversation. I don't WANT to know where this is going or where it's going to end up. But I'm scared. I'm having so much fun!!! And the thought of going away freaks me out beyond compare.

I'm not the kind of girl to say no to an opportunity for love, I hope onto a certain HOPE that it'll all work out regardless, but still...

Being a grown up is not all it's cracked up to be.... How do I make it stop? :) I want to just play mermaids in the pool and not think about where I'm headed and where I'm going to be in 6 months time.

Wishing for fairies to tell me what to do,

Dreaming of daisy fields...

R

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What's Going On Here?

Accept the first guy who offers you acceptance in his life.

YES! You go for it! He's hot, he has a nice car and he's so much fun!

Listen to his stories? He's daring and exciting. What's not to like?

Well... he treats you like you're a trash can. Useful when you want something, but otherwise just something to avoid. Cos it smells bad. And let's be honest, you'd look a little wierd hanging out at a dump right?

To quote a friend of mine, "If you loved yourself, why would you put yourself through that?"

She couldn't be more right.

If you really loved yourself, why would you accept that?

I really can NOT believe what I've been hearing. The way girls are being treated. And they're ACCEPTING it!!!

I understand it's 'cool' to have a boyfriend, especially in teens, and that we seem to live in a time where low self esteem is rife, and depression is claimed in attempts to avoid responsibility of actual emotions. [Please don't get me wrong, I fully support psychology and understand that depression is a real problem, but get help, and if your treatment isn't working, try something else!!!!]

I'm not bragging that I'm happy. That took me a long time too. I just want to reitterate that, at the risk of sounding cliche'd, a lot like charity, love starts at home too.

Take a little time out from the boyzzzz and learn to love yourself first.

You can't expect someone else to love you [like you should be loved] if you don't love, let alone respect yourself.

You're worth more than you think!

And he should feel LUCKY to have any of your attention, let alone all of your time.

He should be so lucky...

Wishing you luck,

Dreaming Of Daisy Fields...

R

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I can't believe I'm agreeing to this...

Picture yourself in a leotard, stockings and heels. Beyonce's Single Ladies is playing in the backgroundand you're doing choreography quite similar to what the fabulous Miss B does in her music vid...
only you're on a stage.
and the other performers do this sort of thing far more frequently than you do.
and it's freezing.

I think I have voluntarily agreed to put myself in that exact same position, with two days to learn to move like Beyonce.
Is this even possible? Sould it be allowed? I'm not sure.

With not much to do but try practice around my dining room table [trying to avoid eye contact with the TV - Desperate Housewives starts soon...] in my p.j's and ugg boots, I set to work.
But alas... the moves that I tried so hard to piece together in rehearsal this afternoon are GONE, and although I phoned the choreographer to try to jerk my memory, I feel more confused than before I dialled out.
It seems that despite all the years I dedicated to the dancing that was [many years ago] my life, over the phone, it seems like pure gibberish. Could kick myself for not making a video of the routine. damn damn damn damn...

So I'm hoping that, should I not crack it tomorrow, muscle memory will wriggle in front of the adrenalin and help me out... [did I mention I'm already stiff? surely that's not a good sign?]
I'm not sure that the other dancers, let alone the audience/corporates/who ever else catches a glimpse will find the whole situation, and any potential mistakes quite as hilarious as I do.

Me. Leotard. Tights. Single Ladies. Stage.
TELL me someone else feels the humour!? ha ha

Oh, would you look at that... TV time.
Better go make some tea.
Cross any spare fingers you have for me PLEASE!

Hoping for success,
Dreaming of Daisy Fields...
R