{scraps of jacki's life}

unfair...

i recently applied for a writing position. i did not get the job.

i think it is unfair, as i am better qualified than the person who did get the job. i will show you her resume, and then you can tell me if you think i have a case:

Resimay

Toe hoem it mei konsern,

I want to aplaai for the job what I saw in the courant.   

I can Taaip reelie kwiek wit one finggar and doo sum a  countieng..

I thienk I are good on the phoune and I  nou I am a piepels person, Piepels reelie siem to respont  to me well. Certin women and all the menn. I nou my  spellieng is not to good but I find that I Offen can get a job  throe my persinaletie.

My sellerie is open sou we  can diskas wat yoe want to pei me and wat yoe  thienk that I am wort,   

I can start iemieditely. Thank yoe in atwaans fore  yore anser.

Houpfulie Yore best apliecant sou farr.   

Sinseerly,
Lotty (short for Laurette)

PS : Bekose my resimay  ies a bit short - below is a piekture of me.
  



Employer's response:

Dear Lotty,

It's OK  honey,

We've got spell checker.

See  you Monday...

well? do you think i should have got the job?

 

silence...

 

Although I am very social, and appear to be extrovert, I am in actual fact an introvert. I need downtime. Quiet time. Introspection time. Think time. And if there is something going on in my life, I need more time even more desperately.

Growing up as the oldest of 4 children, quiet time was hard to get. But even then, in the afternoons after school, I would climb high into the huge black wattle tree we had in the garden, and I would spend hours there, brooding. Nobody else could get up there; in fact mostly nobody even knew I was there. I used to cycle to school a few days a week, even though I hated the exertion. But I did it because it gave me an hour or so of riding home in the afternoons with the wind in my hair (no helmets in those days), and the delicious freedom of having nobody to talk to.

Ronnie, whom I married when I was 19, was an extreme extrovert. He needed people around him all the time, and could not bear to be alone. But as I was a full time mother and housewife shortly after I was married, I could get my silence-fix during weekdays. And when François grew up and our lives became more social and busy, Ronnie was away from home often for work, so I had many evenings and some weekends to be silent. François is very similar; in fact, he needs it more than I do. So even when we were alone together, we could happily spend an entire day or even weekend pottering around, ignoring each other.

Just to clarify: I don't need to be alone/silent all the time. Just a few minutes a day, and a few hours every few weeks is fine.

After Ronnie died I needed even more time, as I was obviously having things to deal with. And concerned family and friends, bless them, wanted to keep me busy, did not want me to be alone. Never understanding that being alone was exactly what both François and I needed. Craved. In that time I learned to take the phone off the hook, switch off my cell, and ignore the doorbell.

Mike is different. He understands. He is the same. He will happily spend hours in his workshop, grinding, welding, working, smoking. And I know to leave him alone. But by the nature of his work he gets lots of 'quiet time', while mine is more social. And Saturdays, when I am at work, he potters happily about. Quietly. Alone.

Then come Sundays. By this time I am craving some downtime. Desperately. And he has had enough alone, quiet, and he wants to go out. Go to a shop, a nursery. He want to go for lunch, or to visit family. And I go along, although I would rather be home, reading.

So when he told me weeks ago that he was going away for a long weekend with a group of guys, to the mighty men conference, I secretly rejoiced. Although I miss him hugely when he is gone, at last some me-time! A whole weekend!

But of course, there was school and work. Life intervenes. So I kept promising myself that I would do everything to keep Sunday open. On Saturday I had to work, but I left the shop as early as possible, so I could go grocery shopping. And Sean wanted to go to a movie, so we went out Saturday evening. Sunday, I kept promising myself. Sunday is mine. Sunday is alone. Sunday! Even bought a new book, so I could read.

Saturday evening my mom told me that my sister wanted me to join the family at her house for tea, because it is mid-way between the birthdays of 2 of her children.

I love my sister. I love her children. I don't see then nearly enough. I seldom see them on their birthdays. I love my brother-in-law. I miss them. So what do I do? To explain to my mom, my wanting to stay home, pottering quietly, rather than visit with family, is futile. She would never understand.

I did not go. I wanted to. But I wanted to be home, quiet, reading, sleeping, more. I’m sorry sis. But I think you do understand. I suspect you need that too...

What would you choose? Do you understand when you read this? Nod your head? Feel the need too? Or would you always choose people over silence? Are you a frustrated introvert as I am? Or are you an extrovert like Ronnie, who almost feared being alone? Do you do a sport, or a hobby, or even a long commute, because it gives you alone time?

Please tell me? I would love to know.

 

Book review: The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

i wrote this book review for women24's book club. i write one for them every month. but they already had one for this book, so i will post it here.

 

When Claire is 20, she meets 28-year old Henry, her husband-to-be. He has never seen her. She has known him well, almost her entire life.

Henry suffers from a genetic disorder, Chrono-Displacement. This causes him to travel through time, into his own future or past. This sound very sci-fi, but surprisingly, it is not. The story is written from both Henry and Clare’s perspectives, and it jumps back and forth through time. Obviously it has the potential to be confusing, yet it is written so well that it all makes wonderful sense.

The focus of the story is not Henry’s time travel; it is about their relationship, and the love and the difficulty they share. Henry has no control over when or where he travels. But his older self often visits the young Clare, where he gets to know her, and she him. At first she is a child, but as she grows into a young woman, she comes to love him. It is through his time-travel, that he gets to know Clare, it is also through his time-travel that we get to know Henry. We see, as he does, how his mother dies, and we meet his daughter when he sees her at the age of 10, and talks to her, although she was not even born yet in his present.

The characters are so real. The book explores all the emotions they experience. Not only relating to his time-travel, but also their love and marriage, in times of better and worse, in sickness and health, and in birth and death.

I read this book a few months ago, and the story has been haunting me ever since. I can honestly say that it is one of the most memorable books I have ever read. It makes you laugh and cry, and think and wish, and dream and fear. I would recommend it to anybody, especially to the romantic at heart.

After loving the book, I watched the movie. As is usually the case, the movie was a little disappointing, and my husband, who had not read the book, found it very confusing. The book is just so much more complex, and many of the book’s themes are not even portrayed in the movie. The book was published in 2003, and the movie came out in 2009, and features Eric Bana and Rachael McAdams.

You can read more about the book and the author here.

You can order the book here.

my review for 'blood safari' - deon meyer

my review for 'the other side of the story' - marian keyes

 

what are you reading? what have you read that you loved?

 

What this World Cup taught me – Part 2

you can read part 1 here.

 
I am not a big sports fan. In fact, until 4 weeks ago, I had never watched a football game before. So this football world cup has been a steep learning curve for me. Here is what I have learned:

- You say football. Only newbies and Americans say soccer. This is frowned upon. Using the word soccer proves that you are not a true fan, and you will never be taken seriously. (@shahil told me on twitter it is called soccer in countries where more than one type of football is played, like America and Australia). you can watch a hysterical explanation by John Cleese on football versus soccer.

- Football is not as boring as I thought it would be. In fact, it can be very exciting! Although the game seems to be much simpler and easier to understand than most other sports, you may not say this out loud.

- Football is a very emotional game. You get swept up and carried away, and you say things in the moment, and then your friends get angry with you, and lose all respect for you.

- Your team never loses. They get robbed. By a player on the opposing team who cheated. By the referee, who is blind and stupid and biased. By FIFA, who must be boycotted, and who are old fossils who refuse to accept modern technology and who therefore condone bad calls. By Jabulani, the new ball. By the vuvuzela. Oh, and by the coach, who chose players who are too old, or too inexperienced. But if you complain about being robbed, the supporters of the other team will say you are whining.

- Everybody has an opinion. And for theirs to be right, yours has to be wrong.

- You may not express an opinion on the game if you are a new fan. If you cry foul for whatever reason, you will be met with mutters saying 'suddenly everyone is an expert', even if you repeat what everyone else is saying. You may only express an opinion if you have been a long-time fan. Since birth. The only way you can get away with saying anything, is if you acknowledge the expert’s expertise, and phrase it like a question. So, don't say: “That cheat! That was a handball! That cost us the game!” Say: “I’m not an expert like you. Would you say that was a handball? But isn’t that cheating? Won’t that cost us the game?” Experts love explaining the game and it’s intricacies.

- If you are a coach, and your team loses, you are expected to resign. No matter how far you got in the competition. The fact that there has to be a loser, and you have a 50% chance of being that, does not matter. If your team loses, everyone from the press to the fans to the government will be calling for your resignation.

- Before the game, football is unifying. We all dress in team colours, and stand next to the road to cheer and blow our vuvuzelas. We all talk and tweet excitedly about how wonderful it is, to be unified and positive and proudly South African/African. After the game, football is divisive. We complain about the game. We complain about the referee. We complain about the complainers. We accuse each other of being naive/racist/cynical/hypocritical. But only till a few hours before the next game, when the cycle starts all over again.

- All this football emotion is exhausting. The ups and downs you experience on a daily basis, take their toll. But when it is all over, you miss the excitement. The vibe. The roller-coaster ride.

This I have learned: South Africa will never be the same. For all it’s controversy, we agree: this was an awesome event. This is a great time to be a South African. This will change the way the world sees us, and more importantly, this will change the way we see ourselves. In the years to come, we will refer to the World Cup in 2010 as a time when we all worked together to produce something we can be proud of. And that feels good!

the above photos come from nico roux, and were taken at soccer city, johannesburg, on the day of the opening match, 11 june 2010.

these 2 photos i found online. i don't know who to credit. if you know, please tell me?

   

to read part 1, click here.

What this World Cup taught me...

I am not a big sports fan. In fact, until 4 weeks ago, I had never watched a football game before. So the football world cup 2010 has been a steep learning curve for me. Here is what I have learned:

What makes a great footballer?

- Great ball skills. A natural talent. Of course.

- Great acting skills. If you get tapped on the shoulder by an opposing player, you have to be able to fall on the ground, and writhe in pain, and convince the referee that your leg hurts very much.

- You also have to be able to convey intense emotion with your face, so the referee and all the millions of TV viewers, will see that you are horrified, shocked, dismayed at his decision. You cannot verbally argue with the referee, or you will get a card. So your body language has to convey that you disagree vehemently.

- You have to have great recovery skills. When the referee has/has not responded to your extreme pain, you have to recover very soon and very bravely, before the coach replaces you with someone on the bench.- A great body. Good abs. The ability to look fabulous in a suit. The skill to be a smouldering model, for watches, men’s perfume and underwear. The inclination to take off your shirt at any given time. If you do so directly after a game in front of the cameras, all female viewers will swoon, and they will support your team in future. Your ginormous income will depend on this.

- You don’t have to be well spoken. You don’t have to have a deep voice. Although you speak English, your accent may be so strong that many will not understand. It’s ok, you are not admired for what you say.

- Moral ambiguity. The ability to be outraged when an opponent cheats, while being quite willing to commit the same foul if the situation were reversed. After the game, you may admit you cheated. You justify it by saying that it is the referee's job to keep the game clean, and if he didn't see it or he allowed it, you are vindicated.

There is something else that takes you from being a good footballer, to being a legendary, internationally recognised one. This factor is a subject that needs to be discussed in more detail, so I made it a separate point.

Legendary footballers have an edge when they have great WAGS - wives and girlfriends. Having WAGS, is what makes especially English footballers the best in the world.

What makes a good WAG?

- You must be skinny. Extremely so. If you are a model, it counts in your favour. Of course you have to give up your career and stop working, to be a full time WAG. You may attend charity functions to justify your existence, as long as they don’t interfere with your job as a supporter of your husband.

- You must be able to party. Hard. There may be hints of drugs, alcohol and infidelity, but they must never be proven.

- You must be able to shop up a storm. This is very important. The economies of the countries that you are visiting while your man is playing, depend on it. You must be seen shopping in the most expensive and exclusive boutiques, and pushing lettuce leaves around in the restaurant-of-the-week. If you are photographed by paparazzi while doing so, you have proven your worth.

- It gives you more credibility if you have/had a singing career. You don’t have to be a very good singer.

- When your soccer-star husband cheats on you with the nanny/the wife of a team mate/porn star, you have to be very brave about it. You have to forgive him. Unless he does it a few times, in which case you have to be seen being thin and pale and distraught, yet dignified, while telling the painful story on TV. This will ensure you gets a good financial settlement.

- You may not cheat on your football-star husband. This will not be forgiven. He is the hero, you are only the accessory.

the photos in this post are courtesy of C Jane Moneypenny, and were taken at the USA - Slovenia game on Friday 18 June 2010. nice, hey?

you can read part 2 of 'what this world cup has taught me' here.