The Misinterpretation of Dreams

So maybe my melodramatic quotation from eat pray love was not quite appropriate to my personal situation. I think the more accurate thing to say at this point is, that the only thing easier than crying in my pillow at night, would be to go back to the comfort I know.

Because what is all this really in aid of? Is it not better to be in a relationship with some flaws than to be all alone? What are the chances of actually having a completely functional relationship? (As opposed to a slightly dysfunctional one.) How many people can say that they have found someone they feel completely comfortable with? Someone who they can completely rely on? Is that not what we want from a partner? And of course love. But is love enough? Or more importantly, what is LOVE exactly?

I’ve been thinking about whether I should blog about this or not. I’ve been wondering about how much I should keep private, but this is MY blog and I do it for MY sanity. So I’m going to go ahead and show how emotionally unstable I really am: today it is 3 weeks to the day since I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years 10 months and 1 week. (On June 28 it would have been 4 years. But actually June 28 is just a day I chose to celebrate it, because I can’t really say exactly when it began.)
And I don’t know how to deal with this. This is the first boyfriend I have ever had, this is the first time I’ve ever done the whole break up thing and FUCK it’s hard!
I’m not going to go into why I’m breaking up with him. Like Elizabeth Gilbert says in eat pray love (except she uses WAS where I use IS): “Let it be sufficient to say that, on this night, he IS still my lighthouse and my albatross in equal measure. The only thing more unthinkable than leaving IS staying; the only thing more impossible than staying IS leaving.” And this is the root of my insanity at present.

During the day I am calm and composed and anybody who doesn’t know me would not know that there was anything wrong. I even manage to convince myself I am fine. No, let me rephrase that, during the day I AM fine. I am convinced that I’m making the right choice, I am convinced about the general “rightness” of the whole decision, the whole thing, everything. But slowly this fades with the setting sun. Like the light in the sky, my cool calm sanity disappears.

Maybe it’s because at night you’re supposed to be at home with the ones you love. And although for the last 2 years and 5 months, on most nights I was not physically with my boyfriend, we were still together in mind and soul on most nights. And he always said that home is where the heart is and that I have his heart, so wherever I was, that was his home. And now we’ve flung each other’s hearts back at each other, but neither of us caught them. They fell and broke. But when I told him my heart’s broken, all he could say was “Ditto.”

I hate that word, “Ditto.” It means nothing. It means I can’t be bothered to express my feelings, or worse, I feel nothing, so I’ll just say exactly what you say.

And if this is not what you come here to read, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry if this is too stiflingly uncomfortable. But we are not human if we don’t allow ourselves to be vulnerable. So here I am: vulnerable and open to criticism.

During this time of Xenophobic chaos in South Africa I quote Jack Johnson in his song Cookie Jar:

“… it wasn’t me says the boy with the gun, sure I pulled the trigger but it needed to be done…
… you can’t blame me, sure the killer was my son, but I didn’t teach him to pull the trigger of the gun…
… you can’t blame me says the singer of the song, or the maker of the movie which he bases life on 
    it’s only entertainment and as anyone can see it’s smoke machines and make up, now you can’t fool me

it was you, it was me, it was every man, we’ve all got blood on our hands
we only receive what we demand and if we want hell, then hell’s what we’ll have!…”

Living in rural South Africa has definitely made me appreciate things that I took for granted living in a city. (And yes, Worcester WAS a city compared to where I live now!!) The simple pleasure of having more than one shop from which you can choose to buy milk, is something that most people don’t even consider. I’m sure most people do not think about whether or not they will find any bread at the grocery store today. The question is, more likely, whether there will be anymore low GI seed loaf or not.

This evening I was very happy to cook a meal with fresh vegetables. (Having been in Durban over the weekend, I was priviledged enough to have been able to replenish my supplies.) I was even happier to be able to share this good meal with others. And so I invited two of my colleagues over. All I cooked was a chicken and bacon stir-fry, which was ready in half an hour! We had water and a bottle of Nederburg Cabernet Sauvignon to drink. (Yes, we can buy it at the local Spar!!) We just sat around the wooden table in the kitchen, no tablecloth. And after dinner I took out some ground coffee and put it into the French press (no percolator here!) and we drank some good coffee and ate organic dark chocolate (bought in Durban of course!) and I found it most satisfying. No fancy restaurant, no spiffy waiters, no unpronouncable names on a menu, just a good home cooked meal with 2 friends. I even enjoyed cleaning up afterwards, because as I washed the wine glasses I remembered the taste of the wine. And when I picked up the chocolate wrappers I could still taste the chocolate in my mouth. And as I rinsed out the French press I smelled the coffee again.

So simple, yet so satisfying. I think I’m going to survive my year in the bush after all!

So yes, I’m still thinking about sex, we are sexual beings after all. I’ve been wondering whether it’s sex or money that makes the world go round. (We can all forget about that lie about it being love that makes the world go round once we reach a certain age. I’m convinced that it one of the two: sex or money, but can’t figure out which is more powerful.

From the beginning of time we have stories about powerful men falling prey to the temptations of women.
Samson was too powerful for any man to defeat him, so they sent in a woman.
King David forgot all about his duties as a king and sent one of his soldiers off to die, purposefully, so that he could have the soldier’s wife!
Cleopatra won back the throne of Egypt by tumbling out of a Persian carpet at Julius Caesar’s feet, nine months later she was having his baby! She was around 30 years younger than him.
The name Monica will never be thought of in the same way after the president of the USA was brought to his knees because of a little bit of oral sex.

On the other hand, we have money. And money can buy sex.

So what’s more powerful? Money or sex?

Sex is something that never fails to evoke some sort of response from every single person. Whether it be embarrassment or frustration, discomfort or just a slight elevation in the pulse rate, everyone responds in some way to the thought or mention of sex.
I’ve been thinking a lot about sex lately. It may be because I watched season 1 to 6 of Sex and the City in a matter of weeks. Or maybe, because in a matter of days I had to examine 3 rape victims, all below the age of 16. But whether we’re seeing it on TV or reading about it or hearing about it, or having it, sex is something that no one can avoid. The thing that intrigues me is: What is good sex?

I think for everyone the answer to that would be different. I don’t think there are any exact answers either. I do have some ideas, though, about what good sex is NOT!
1) It is NOT having had innumerable sexual partners. Yes, I’m sure that there is something to be said for experience. But you have to actually LEARN from the experience, as opposed to just moving from one partner to the next in an attempt to find someone actually willing to have sex with you a second time!! 
2) It is NOT about how long it lasts, believe it or not! I’m not saying  premature ejaculation is acceptable, NO! But 2hours of soulless banging is no better, I promise.
3) Now SIZE is a touchy subject as far as men are concerned, I really can’t help when it comes to that, I’m sorry. I think it just differs from woman to woman, personal preference and all of that.
4) And here’s a little secret that they don’t tell you on TV: for a woman it is NOT always about the orgasm! Oh! Oh? Oooohhhhh! Can you men believe it?!! Now, I’m not alone in this, I’ve spoken to a few of my girlfriends who agree.
The big O is something you men are so bent on reaching, but women can fake it and you will be none the wiser! So don’t base your performance ratings on whether she reaches orgasm or not. I think it says more if you get breakfast in bed the next morning. (Eggs and toast or otherwise!)

That being said, there are a few basics that make for better sex most of the time.
1) It helps when you feel comfortable. Physically, mentally, etc.
2) It helps when you feel that the other party is actually interested in whether you’re enjoying yourself or not.
3) It’s much better if the other party is able to read some of your body language.
4) It’s nice if it doesn’t feel as if there is a standard recipe, complete with timings, that has to be followed.

Unfortunately, for those who are not experiencing good sex, there’s a lot that just cannot be taught. I think some people are just naturally good and others not. But if you want to please a woman then listen, listen, listen. To the things she’s saying with her words, body, eyes. And most importantly, listen to the things she’s not saying!

After not having even looked at my blog page for over a month, someone mentioned it to me today. I logged on expecting to see a total of NO hits for the past few weeks and I was pleasantly surprised. I do suspect that I have only one lone reader who logs on a few times a day just to check if there’s anything new.

Where have I been, you may ask. I have not been blogging for a number of reasons:
First I was waiting for a few more great people to give me the interviews they promised. I waited and waited. You see, although Bridget and Anwar are great people, they’re also both people whom I’ve actually had conversations with in person. As opposed to only cyberspace conversations, which is all the conversation I’ve had with the other candidates who agreed to the interviews. So, obviously Bridget and Anwar felt more obliged to oblige me! Aren’t I lucky? I suppose most great people are also very busy people. They didn’t become great by sitting on their butts all day.
Then after all that waiting, I realised that the whole “Greatness” series had actually fallen flat on its face and I didn’t really know where to go from there.
Then I had to deal with the surreal experience of burying my grandfather, whom I don’t remember meeting and who was supposed to just keep on and on and always be there.
Then I ran away and got lost in Mozambique for a week. I swear next time, I’m going to get lost even deeper into Mozambique and maybe never find my way back again. Who needs to work? How important is earning a living anyway?

And now I am back in this hovel called reality and all I want to do is dream. Just close my eyes and dream. I’m just so tired.