Picture taken at Cluckhoff’s house.
You see, the thing is…
It’s no secret that Cape Town makes me zen. Makes me contemplative. And in the good way, for a change. Inspires me even more to speak my truth.
I sit here at this white table, sun on my back and tap-tapping away.
I think about Cameron. I think about Shmooshy. I think about my divine friends and the awesome 360 kickflip of this life that is Cath’s.
I look at the mountain. And it makes the flight down here, with flatulent man beside me, worth it.
Who the hell is flatulent man? hehe. Flatulent man is the person (and there seem to be a whole population of them) who you get stuck next to on the ‘plane when you’re travelling alone. They’re annoying, smelly and always overbearingly interested in what you, as a meisie, are doing on a plane.
I always, always, to survive it, am a total shit.
So, the conversation will go like this:
Flatulent man: “so are you going to Cape Town on hol-ee-day?”
Cath: “no, I’m going for work”
Flatulent man: “oh, what do you do?”
Cath: “oh, im a stripper”
Flatulent man: <GAWK>
Cath: “yes, im very exclusive. fly around all the time, taking my clothes off for people. WHY?”
Flatulent man: <GAWK> <FART><SWEAT>
Cath: “would you mind removing your arm from my armrest? It’s digging into my right arm. Which is my strongest. My right hook can flatten planets”
Flatulent man: “ja, sorry missus”.
Cath: “thanks”
Flatulent man: “are you going to order something from the menu?”
Cath: “no, i’m anorexic and have already had my lettuce leaf for the day”
Flatulent man: <zero response as his synapses can only focus on one grunt at a time”
Cath: “putting my ipod on now. have a good flight”.
It’s my survival tactic. Usually, I’ll pick random obtuse careers. I’ve been a female-only carpenter; a highly-in-demand fixer of hammers and a sports team mascot (“my bear costume is in my luggage, you know”).
And sometimes, it works really well.
anyway, surviving flatulent man is worth it to step off the plane and yell “f**k yes” when I see OtherCath’s face waiting for me at Domestic Arrivals.
It’s worth it for the sunshine, the mountain, the easy love of friends. Friends who inspire me.
The cuddle from the cats, the warmth of OtherCath’s kitchen as she cooks dinner and we laugh. The quiet of the night as I sit and muse, looking up at the mountain.
The deep, divine sleep. Waking up and calling you and saying hello. Us and our hyper-communication. Knowing that in a few days, I’ll see you again. Even still though, “ek verlang”.
I hear from Cameron and she is brilliant. Just brilliant.
A past of mine makes peace with me and I finally feel a weight off my shoulders rise.
I love my life. i am blessed and certain of the beauty of it all.
I am the luckiest girl alive.