To Breed Or Not To Breed

That is the question.

Since the day we’ve gotten married, people have been asking us when we are planning to breed. Telling people that we want to wait some time before spawning seems to have no effect.

People don’t seem to actually care what it is that we want. It seems to be terribly important for couples to spawn once the wedding ring is on the finger. However, try as I might, I just don’t see the importance.

In all honesty though, I am enjoying my life as it is right now to want to change it for a child. Once you have a child, or many, life changes. It becomes a non-stop merry-go-round of parenty things. Birthday parties, school plays, parents evenings, first days of school and last days of school.

Then with my luck, I’d probably end up with an outdoorsy kind of child. Then it will be camping and fishing trips just to completely fuck me over.

Admittedly my life isn’t all that full. It mostly consists of sitting on the couch and smoking. With the occasional drinking binges thrown in for good measure. But it is my life and I want to enjoy it as I see fit. There is also the occasional, spur of the moment road trips, coffee runs and movie outings which will now all have to be planned with military precision so as to have a baby sitter available.

However, all these people putting that teeniest bit of pressure to produce offspring tend to forget one thing: We have to pay for it. Everybody wants us to breed, but no one particularly wants to share the financial costs of it all. Never mind the time it takes to raise one. None of these people will be there at 2 AM to change a diaper, feed and burp. Nope. That will all come down to the two of us.

Not to mention that children are a bad return on investment. Every month for the next 18 years we’ve got to shell out hundreds and thousands of Rand. Then after paying all of these thousands every month for 18 years, you get zero return.

If I’m going to be expected to deposit into a fund for 18 years, I would prefer to get better than zero return.

The Education System is Failing Us

I have believed for some time now that the education system is failing us. Other people have been saying the same thing, but for reasons other than why I think the system is failing us.

After working corporate South Africa for the past six years, I have learnt a few things that school never prepared me for.

So, in order for the Department of Education to step up their game, I have devised this handy list of features we need to see in the future. Things that I believe will turn the youth of today into people that are better prepared to enter the corporate world.

First things first though. Children will no longer be allowed to go to school close to home. The youngens will now be expected to attend school approximately 30 to 65 kilometers from home. They will now have to travel by bus, car or motorcycle to school. Through rush hour traffic. Leaving at sparrow fart, in order to be there at 8 AM.

No longer will school run from 8:00 till 14:00. School will run from 7:30 to 17:00. With enough homework to keep the little buggers busy until midnight or later.

Then you away with first break and second break. You now have tea time and lunch.

In order to have the youngens prepared for what awaits them, during lunch several teachers need to approach them and ask them random questions. That is what happens to us in the real world. You’ve got your McDonald’s take away burger halfway mouthwards when your phone will ring. It is usually some customer, somewhere, asking you a random question. By the time the phone call is finished, your burger’s gone cold and the ice in your Coke has melted.

To make the playing field even more level. While in math class, the geography, history and language teachers need to barge in and ask random questions about the subjects they teach. Same should be true for any subject the student/pupil/learner takes.

At some stage it will be important to throw in a handful of project managers.

Project managers are the bane of any working person’s existence. Especially if the project manager does not have a clue about the project they are managing.

Therefore, in order to prepare the youngens for working with project managers, and customers, I have a plan. It is a cunning plan.

If a student is taking science, present them with a project. This project will be managed by another student. A student that has absolutely no knowledge of science, like for instance, an accounting student. The accounting student will then be in charge of meeting with the teacher to “understand” the requirements of the project. The accounting (AKA project managing) student will then have to communicate these requirements to the science student who will actually be doing the project.

The science student will then have to do their own research. They will not be given any tips. All they will know is what the eventual outcome of the project should be.

Project managing student will then set some unrealistic timelines, and communicate those timelines back to the science teacher without telling the science student.

At all times will the science student be told as little as possible.
Eventually, given the cock up caused by the project managing student not knowing the subject matter, the science project will be late. Science student will get penalized and project managing student will come out smelling of roses.

That is my plan in sort of a nutshell.

Far too many people enter the workplace having no idea how corporations, and the real world, works. Far too many don’t have an idea how frustrating working with a project manager can be. This will teach them.

Go forth and teach.

When Did I Turn Into My Parents

I remember when I was growing up my parents being careful how they spent their cash. Not that there is anything wrong with being thrifty, mind you. These days, and I suppose those days as well, being thrifty with your money was being clever.

As far back as I can remember I wished my parents had more money. Mostly I wished they had more money to pander to my wishes on any given day. It was a selfish notion, but I was quite a bit self-centred in my younger years.

All through those years, I always promised myself that I would never think twice about spending money. I vocalized that promise to myself a few times as well. I made sure my parents knew I would never be as big misers as they were.

Fast forward a few years. What do we see?

I would not say that I am a terribly frugal person. I do not mind to spend money on The Boss. If it pleases The Boss of course. However, The Boss herself is not a terribly demanding person. I am also not a spendthrift.

I have, in recent years, become an incredibly cheap person. Allow me to paint you a picture of my cheapness.

About a year ago I noticed the front tyres of my car wearing down slightly. Any normal person would pull into the local SupaQuick, order 2 tyres and be off. Not me. I first phoned around to find out who stocks the particular (cheap-ish) brand of tyre that is currently on the car. Enquired about the cost per wheel. Made all sorts of encouraging noises on the phone.

On the day I decided to have the wheels done, off I drove to SupaQuick. Told the tyre fitting person that I want one tyre. Put one new one on front. Put spare tyre on the front, and put the best out of the two current wheels on the spare.

Like I said, I am cheap. I am so cheap that I make Jews look generous.

The Boss and I’s visit to Cape Town last year is another prime example of my cheapness. Most people would opt to fly down, rent a car and pay a hotel. Not this one.

We did the math. In doing the math we realized that if we drove down we can save R 6,000. Of course a saving of that much made me very happy. So we opted to drive.

The half of the population that would drive the distance would sleep over somewhere. Not this one. I reckoned that if we don’t sleep over anywhere we save even more money.

So I drove, and drove. We got to Cape Town in one piece, tired as all hell, but I saved money.

Previous years I had no problems spending money. I was however made to feel guilty when I spent my money on myself. I am assuming that my cheapness might stem from there. To this day I feel bad about spending money. Or perhaps it is just genetics.

Whatever it might be, I am not complaining. Stupidity has had me spend large portions of my “disposable income” paying off bills. Hopefully my cheapness will bring that to an end some day soon.

Identity

I spend an inordinate amount of time on certain social networking sites.

In spending so much time on one particular site, I have noticed some strange phenomena. Actually, given that is it now 2011, I have noticed one particular phenomenon a lot earlier than just now. Hell's Bells, I was a part of it in the late 90s and early 2000s.

This strange phenomenon is people losing their identity when they either enter a new relationship, or have a baby.

Admittedly, I have been in relationships where I have lost a part of my identity. Some time after the breakup I would regain that lost bit and become more of myself again.

I was lucky that with the arrival of The Boss in my life, I was able to hold on to what makes me what, and who, I am.

However, some of the people I see on the aforementioned social networks have lost so much of their identities; I don't think they know any more than I do who they are.

There are people, some on my list of friends that share profiles with their marital partners. Some of the unmarried ones will only post status updates pertaining to their new partners. And, for the sweet love of Christ, don't get me started on the new parents.

New parents need to realize one thing and one thing only. We are really not interested in how many times Spawn used the potty or what their first word was. I know for a fact that if it was my spawn their first word will be either "Fuck" or "Cock". Not exactly the words that will warm the cockles of grandma's heart, but I digress.

Not only are we bombarded with everything the child does, says or shits, but the profile picture changes as well. No points for guessing that one. I had to learn to identify my friends by what their spawn looks like.

Then the marrieds, or newly in loves, that just cannot exist without their partners. Their existence is so reliant on their partners that even their bloody Facebook profiles cannot stand alone. Piet en Sannie Poggenpoel is what greets me. Question is, who the fuck am I dealing with on any given day?

I have often thought about that profile sharing business. I thought about it before social networking even existed, when an acquaintance shared an e-mail address with her husband.

I would never in a million years share a Facebook profile, or e-mail address, with The Boss. Firstly because we have different friends, different interests and some of her friends don't like me, and vice versa. Mostly vice versa. Nothing personal mind you, just business.

There was a point to all of this… Yes, identity.

It seems as if more and more people are losing their identity when they're with a partner, or with child. People are spending so much time being identified by who they're dating, feeding or burping, that they have no idea any more who they are.

As much as I am defined by my partnership with The Boss, and whatever job it is that I find myself in, I define myself.

It has taken me a long, long time to find my identity. Not that I ever lost my identity, mind you. It did get a bit murky a few times, but never really disappeared. Looking at others thought, it seems as if very few people know any more who they are. If you remove their significant other, or children, they will turn to dust and blow away with the wind.

Perhaps this is a throwback to the old days. We all remember those. The wife was known as Mrs Piet Poggenpoel. Whether her name be Sannie, Gesiena, or Koos. She became a part of her husband. I just need to think about suggesting that to The Boss, and I'll get a flip flop to the side of the head. The Boss is who she is. I am who I am. Together we stand, but apart we stand as well.

Please, people, find your identities. You don't need your partners, or your children to define who you are.

Disconnection Notice

A few weeks ago, The Boss and I went to Cape Town for a bit of a holiday. Shortly after our arrival I realized that I left my laptop charger at home, 1400 kilometres away.

At first I toyed with the idea of contacting our Cape Town office to borrow a charger. After being offline for two days, I decided to just bugger it and go without the laptop for a few days. I still had my BlackBerry, and that kept me in touch with everyone I needed to be in touch with. It also gave me all the social networking that I could handle on any given day.

Usually I'm the kind of person that gets kind of irritated when I don't have my daily fix of the interwebs, however, that few days it didn't seem to affect me at all. Didn't seem to bother The Boss either, The Boss being a great fan of Facebook games.

It was during that time that I decided that I need to spend more time "unplugged". I have intended to spend less time in front of a computer, and more time doing stuff in our kitchen. Having recently discovered a fascination of things gastronomical.

Then some weeks after I came to that realization, Pixlet wrote a blog about the power of the human touch. Her article, in turn, was inspired by this article on CNN that states "touching makes you healthier".

All of that got me thinking for a bit. I think perhaps I spend way too much time online. Actually, I don't think I do, I know I do.

I know that I need to unplug more often. Switch the phone on silent, turn the laptop off and just do something offline and unconnected.

However, as I stated in a previous post of mine, I'm a bit of an anti-socialite. I'm not really big on the whole social get together business. Most of my interaction with people happen online. Very, very seldom do I do anything with people offline.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that it is a fault of mine, but more of a character trait. I realize that I need to spend some time offline with people. Very few people can stand the beigeness that is me for periods longer than five to ten minutes and that makes social interaction very difficult. Couple that with the fact that I was born with a malformed small talk gland, and you have the recipe for a disaster.

I suppose that after such a lengthy period of online only interaction, some people might take an invitation from me with a rather large pinch of salty goodness. Added to that is the fact that my living space is not really geared to social gatherings, and myself being very selective about whom I invite into my home. So what is one to do?

I have gotten so used to being unsocial that it is a difficult habit to break. I will, however, attempt to break that habit. I might even extend a few more invitations to some of the people from my social networking circle to get together in real life. All I can say at this stage is that this is a bit of a disconnection notice. I may not be online as much as I used to, or it might be a more gradual shift towards a life offline.

Anniversarial Thoughts…

I’m not often sentimental on my blog, but today is a special day. So everyone can forgive me this moment of sappiness.

A year ago today, I married the love of my life. While I often tell her how wonderful she is, and as much as the whole world knows this, I need to shout it from the rooftops. Or, as this case may be, the blog tops.

I met The Boss in the strangest of places. An internet dating site. I was going to give up hope. Getting ready to spend the rest of my life alone. Okay, not entirely alone, there was a whiskey bottle involved. I digress however.

After a few tentative dates, we were officially a couple. Myself, of course, being my normal abrasive self and The Boss being her normal accepting and loveable self.

The entire first year of our relationship was a tough one. With The Boss being away during the week, and us trying to build our relationship on weekends. But we persevered.

A little over a year after we met, I decided one day that I’m not letting The Boss get away without a fight. I cornered her father and asked permission to marry her. I came off lightly. Granted, he was up a ladder at the time, and I had the bravery that only three double whiskeys can give one.

Almost eighteen months after we met, we signed the lease on our current flat. Living in sin for a few months, while planning a wedding.

Don’t let anyone bullshit you into thinking that planning a wedding is hard work. It really isn’t. Apart from the dress, I had our entire wedding planned, booked and paid for in three weeks. I digress again.

We were married a year ago today. In a small ceremony overlooking the ocean. Surrounded by only our immediate family. Some of our family members couldn’t make it. Their lack of presence was felt by all.

The few days running up to our wedding day, we were getting worried about the weather. Our ceremony was due to take place outside, and the weather was awful. Pissing down cats and dogs almost every day.

The day we got married, someone was looking out for us. Clear and sunny skies.

But now… Today… A year had passed since we have made the biggest decision of our lives. The entire year has not been smooth sailing. In fact, the last three months were downright rough. No fault of our own though. The Boss was away assessing some mine’s risk, and I was left watching the cat.

All jokes aside for a minute.

For as long as I can remember, I was looking for someone like The Boss. Someone that understands that I have a hard time in the morning. Someone that gets why I can’t stand the general population of this wonderful country of ours. Someone that doesn’t just cater to my every whim, but tells me to get knotted every now and again. Someone, that at the risk of sounding cheesy, completes me.

It was a rough couple of years, looking for her, but I found her. And now, there’s no backing out. She’s stuck with me.

At least we’re both happy to be stuck together. And in a last soppy moment. The Boss, I love you. More than life itself.

We now return to our normal programming. And in the spirit of the usual posts… Fuck off!

Drama Tweens

Is it my imagination or have the teens of today become more neurotic and angsty?

I look at the youngsters of today and all I see is them constantly bitching and moaning about absolutely everything. They seem to think that because they are at school, live with their (controlling) parents and are suffering from the onset of puberty, that they have the right to act like whiny little shits.

They whine because their parents won’t buy them the latest iGimmick. They whine because their parents demand a certain level of respect. They whine because their parents demand they do a few things around the house. They whine because they get assigned homework, projects and tests at school. Then they whine because they fail the abovementioned tests.

I know that I was not the easiest teenager on earth. I gave my mother a good run for her money and then some. Even in my 30s I am still my mother’s most difficult child. I also know that if I acted half as badly as today’s Drama Tweens, my mother would have given me a beating I would not soon have forgotten, and it would have been a beating I would have deserved. Beyond the shadow of a fucking doubt.

Apparently now, according to some “real” research, teenage angst is because of biology. Bull-fucking-shit! Teenage angst is because teenagers have become whiny little shits with more human bloody rights than their parents. If parents today had the rights my parents had when I was growing up, there would be fewer angsty bloody teenagers.

I know I was not always the world’s happiest child either. I was also “misunderstood”. Except in my case being “misunderstood” meant I was a self-centred, whiny little shit. However angsty we were back in the 80s and 90s, no-one actually ever knew about it. The really, very angsty ones were just a little different, and usually ended up being art students. Which is fine, since everyone expects art students to be a little “different”. But, however angsty, self-centred and whiny we were back in those days, we were not a patch against the kids of today.

But with the incidence of Facebook, Twitter and Mxit, I tend to see a lot more of this whiny-ness of the younger generation. Not only are the younger generation in our midst whiny, needy and self-centred, they are also tremendous attention whores. Heaven forbid anyone on this planet should not be paying attention to them for five minutes.

You do not even have to go on Facebook or Twitter to see these little attention whores. Go to any mall. Now, I cannot remember if I ever did this, but you see the parents and five steps behind is the teenager, sulking. Sulking because of being dragged out in public with their uncool parents. I know my parents are uncool, but guess what? Fuck everyone else. They are MY uncool parents. What they lack in uncoolness, they make up for in everything else. Christ, I can swear like a drunken pirate in front of my mother and she accepts that as a part of me. However, I digress…

Apart from the whiny little shits walking five steps behind the parents, they walk with their headphones in their ears. Listening to whatever is playing on their iGimmick that they eventually guilted their parents into buying. That kind of behaviour is unacceptable. You do not go out in public with a set of headphones plugged into your ears. Wrong on very many levels.

Amongst my Facebook and Twitter “friends” I have two teenagers. Roughly a year apart in age from each other. A more depressed collection of youngsters remain to be seen. One complains most of the time about how big a loser it is. How it does not have any friends. How it does not have a best friend. The list goes on. The other just complains a lot, about pretty much everything in its life.

The common denominator between the two, both hate their parents for some perceived wrong doing on the parents’ part. The only wrong my parents ever did was not beating me enough.

I had a point to all of this… Yes! Please can someone tell me if I am imagining all of this? I really cannot tell any more. Have teenagers become tiny, self-centred, whiny little drama queens? I think they have. I think parents should start beating the shit out of their kids again. Perhaps then teenagers will go back to being less self-centred and whiny. They will still be little shits, but they will whine less.