Blood Diamond Friends

This morning I was sitting on the bus thinking about all the momentary best friends I've had in my life...

They come and go, and it's sad because I can think of three whose names I can't  recall... oh how time affects the memory... yet although I cannot remember who they once were, that doesn't mean I've forgotten what they meant to me... Sitting outside work, gossiping about our bitch for a floor manager or challenging each other on a swing at the local park... Tranforming (or vandalising) "Hetties Tuck Shop" into "Hetties Fuck Shop"...

I feel like one of those people who are forced to dig for diamonds in Northern Africa. I finally find a diamond and three seconds later the diamond is taken away from me, never to be seen again...

My friends mean everything to me... they always have... I've never had any romantic relations with anyone so I had to give the love I had to someone... so I gave it to friends... and I still do... That's why I'm the friend you can call at 3am to help you bury a dead body... :)

I don't really have much to say, but to all the friends I've lost to time, distance, drugs, the grim reaper etc... I miss you and even though I might not remember you name, it's your aura and being that I remember ever so well...

Mr Love lace out...

Eat, Pray and Lots of Love...

First of all thanks Kemptoo for reminding me to write this!!! I forgot to write an update piece about my broke leg saga lol... well here it is...

After my accident I was sent to Groote Schuure Hospital... Not too bad if you get past the boredom and begin to realise you’ve missed a few spots on the ceiling while counting them...

I was at the hospital for eight days, and let me tell, it’s no cake walk... If any of my friends land up in hospital, I will be there every day for both visiting hours... Unless you’ve been admitted to the hospital for longer than one day you won’t have a single clue how much a one hour visit means... even from people you don’t really like...

You are practically starved 90% of the time, because they need to do tests, you can’t even drink water and the worst thing is, if you have a broken leg, you have to take a dump in a bedpan... not cool... was constipated for seven out of the eight days I was there...

What happened was my ankle broke in two places and my tibia was sliced in half... The doc said I must have an op... Yay me... To fix the ankle bones, screws needed to be inserted into the bone to keep it there and to keep it stable (oh and most people ask if they come out... no they stay in till I kick the bucket...so basically I’ll be setting of airport alarms and US airport officials will probably do a cavity search to make sure I don’t have any illegal metals in my body... FML). The second part is I have a metal plate over the tibia, so that I can walk again... My doc let’s call him Dr Hairy Chest  said I have to wait for the swelling to go down before I can have the operation... the swelling took six days to de-swell only to swell up again after the op and pretty much remain swollen seven weeks later...

Crappy thing was I had my 22^nd birthday on the Sunday, the day before my operation... It’s not cool to spend your birthday at the hospital, but when your friends throw you a small impromptu birthday party, you realise that it’s the little things that make the biggest difference... I wasn’t expecting that, so when I saw them I had to fight tears the entire time... Princess Minnie’s smile turned my upsetting day around, seeing Miss Dictator and Yugi Bear made me realise that my friendship with them will undoubtedly last a life time and when I saw Sherbert, I realised that no matter what happens, she’s always got my back. I swear that was the most touching birthday I’ve ever had. It even surpasses my 21^st birthday... Even now I am fighting back the tears dying to escape my eyelids...

After the Birthday and the operation, I was in a crap load of pain... and what’s worse is that the morphine injection never helped one bit... I’m not kidding I had two morphine injections (not at the same time, six hours between each shot). Neither of them worked and the nurses refused to give me other medication, out of fear of overdosing.... (I suppose I should be grateful but I felt like dying really...) I was in uncontrollable pain for 14 hours until I decided to reject the useless morphine and opt of the second option, a tremadol and two panado’s... It worked... like seriously... I was in heaven...

Two days after the op, I had my first physio session and Dr Hairy Chest said if the physio clears me today I could go home... This was the ticket I’d been waiting for, so I decided I was gonna rock Physio session... I passed!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Well this song pretty much sums up how I felt in the car going home:

George Michael : Freedom

Mr LoveLace out...

Shake, Rattle and Crutch roll

Last week Friday I attended a good friend’s 21^st birthday... Her mother asked me to write something for her the day before... very last minute, but you know, I’m starting to like this “spontaneous” time in life...

I will admit standing up there, with zero alcohol in me and next to no blood in my caffeine stream, I shook like a leaf in the wind... Freaking shaking like Parkinson’s sufferer...

But I made my speech and it was a hit with everyone... (Yay)

So I thought it would be nice for me to post the speech, so that you can read it and, more importantly, as an ode to the Birthday Girl.

 Princess Minnie’s 21^st speech

Good evening everybody, Mr and Mrs _____ and of course our favourite little lady, Princess Minnie.

I was asked yesterday morning to write a speech for you on your 21^st. I gladly accepted the challenge of writing a five day late birthday speech, however, I never anticipated how difficult it would be. 

I sat for hours thinking about what to say. No really I did. After a while I declared I had writers block.

So I thought to myself, What Would Princess Minnie do? I thought about it for about 3 seconds and realised that it was a bad idea. You’d probably leave it till the next day.

So I decided to seek help from a higher power. I thought, what would Lady Gaga do? Then I realised she’d rock up wearing a 21^st birthday cake and sing for you. Unfortunately I can’t sing and I don’t ever plan on wearing an edible outfit.

So eventually I done what any half-normal person would do. I went on google. Did you know that if you google “good 21^st birthday speeches” you’ll get 657,000 results. I sat there stunned, because I knew not one of those speeches was good enough for you.

They wouldn’t have the heart, soul, humour and embarrassment that is needed for a good 21^st speech.

They wouldn’t express what a stunning smile you have, nor the infectious happiness you constantly carry. I will never forget that smile of yours, and thinking about it, will always put a smile on my face.

It will never contain the courage you have by standing in front of a camera while a massive crowd of people are walking towards you shouting the words : S-L-U-T is that what you think of me?

It won’t contain how bipolar you get after eating your daily supply of kiwi fruit, nor will it contain your magical ability to outwit all the nit twits in our class.

It wouldn’t say that inside that tiny frame of yours lies an Amazonian Warrior Princess that can outrun everyone to the nearest hot chocolate seller.

It wouldn’t have the picture of you meticulously peeling off the pastry off the pastry of a samoosa instead of eating it like a normal person. But then again that’s why we all love you.

 It wouldn’t contain how much all of us care for you, and all of us being here tonight proves that.

Today I thought of the perfect speech ever. It’s short and sweet, packs a punch and it can be tweeted.

So here’s my speech: YOU’RE FREAKIN AWESOME PRINCESS MINNIE! HAPPY 21^ST BIRTHDAY.

Mr Love lace out...

Trainwrecked...

Hi guys!

Its been a while since my last confessio... uhm I mean blog... I'm sure you've all been wondering why this chatterbox has gone AWOL (and if you haven't well... that's ok :) )...

Well on my way home from tech, I was sitting on the train (oh and it happened on 16 August...) minding my own business as usual, doing some research on my Blackberry and out of nowhere this asshole grabs my BB out my hand and runs out the train and evaporates from site like the abominable snowman... And what does yours truly do??? Well I decided to catch the fucker... only that didn't play out too well on my side...

After the grab, I got up, looked at the thief dead in the eye and almost ran after him, but I remembered that I need to grab my bag that was on the seat next me... So I quickly grabbed the bag and ran out the train to catch the thieving bastard... unfortunately I didn't realise the train had started to move...

Yes, I will go down as the idiot who jumped out of a moving train... Well after I jumped, I land on the ground with an enormous thump, I was tossed around like a ragdoll - thanks momentum, thou art such a heartless bitch - and I basically destroyed my ankle and sliced my tibia... the ankle was so broken, I could turn my foot in all directions... I hurt like hell, I was screaming my head off and the security was so surprised he just stood there like mental patient who suffers from dementia and can only say the words "I'm a ghost who pee's in ice block trays"...After repeated yelling and screaming like an insane banshee, screeching "fuck you, you thieving bastard" and "Oh my God why did I just jump out of a moving train?" the catatonic security guard came to rescue me and I felt a little bit better...

I remember quite a bit for someone who went through something that traumatic... I remember looking at my broken foot for the first time... It was shifted to the right and I tried to put in back in place, but it just flopped over to the other side... I tried to so hard to get it to stay in the correct position, but it just wouldn't stay there (since the ankle bones where completely broken off from the leg). I remember the smell of the sharp rocks, it smelled like metal and blood. only there wasn't much blood which was probably a good thing... I probably would have bled to death waiting for the ambulance, which took over an hour and a half to get there...  

The sound of trains passing will haunt me till the day I die... mainly because when the security guard helped me up, he put my down on the platform and the trains would rapidly pass by my head. That rushing sound was deafeningly loud and got a whole lot scarier with each passing train...

When the police and the ambulance came, someone else arrived with them - my dad... I have never been that excited to see my dad EVER. I burst out into tears when I saw him, not because of the pain, but because of the relief that I was no longer alone in an unknown train station, surrounded by curious train passengers and security guards who speak in broken English... I was scared shitless for an hour and a half, and that fear evaporated instantaneously when I saw my dad... (I won't go into detail about how he found out... I borrowed one of the security guards phone and on the sly posted an facebook status about my unfortunate predicament)...

At something to seven I arrived at Groote Schuur Hospital (thanks to that very late ambulance) and well my healing began...

I'll clue you in on my time at the hospital in the next blog...

Ciao for now

Mr Love Lace out...