Smile

"Be optimistic, don't you be a grumpy, when the road gets bumpy, just smile, smile, smile and be happy!" - Anywhere but here, 1999

Yeah... I don't know where to start. I'm tired, and cold, but my belly is full of yummy McDonald's. I had a walk-out today, at work, not much, but still... I wanted to scream. And my manager is a bit, I don't know what the exact term is, but I'll go with... Stupid.

I've been exposing myself to the arts lately. LOL!

I went to go see Marmaduke with my friend. She likes cuddly, fluffy, funny movies, but I don't. But we went anyway, after all, I invited her, she can pick the movie. It was funny and I loved it. It's one of those movies I'll put on my list to buy for my kids I'll have one day.

Then, I went and I bought Boondock Saints II All Saints Day. I think its brilliant, but I seem to be one of a few. No one seems to think that it matches up to the first one. I do. I honestly do, especially if you watch Troy Duffy in the special features and hear what he has to say. With the limited budget and time, what came out is absolutely fantastic! That and... I've been waiting five years for this movie to come out! And then there are a few really good scenes in the movie, one of my favourite has to be where the Saints are dreaming and Rocco and Greenly and the dead cat visits them. Rocco has this great speech about being a hardworking man. I love it. And then Greenly's exiting words: "Thanks for coming out". Brilliant.

Oooooh, and I found the words:

Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus: Sláinte
Murphy MacManus: You know, it was sort of a balance though, wasn't it?
Connor MacManus: Shades of Eastwood. Charlie Bronson.
Rocco: Duke Fucking Wayne!
Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus: Duke Fucking WAYNE!
Rocco: Men build things, then we die. It's in our fucking DNA! THAT'S WHAT WE DO!
Murphy MacManus: And when it all falls down?
Rocco: We build it right back up again.
Connor MacManus: But this time bigger. BETTER!
Rocco: Look! Look what we can do. Look how fuckin' beautiful we are. You think the men that built all this had it easy?
Murphy MacManus: Hard men!
Connor MacManus: Doing hard shit!
Rocco: and that gives me a hard on... But not in a gay way or anything like that.
Murphy MacManus: No, 'course not
Connor MacManus: Yeah it goes without sayin'
Rocco: I am so sick of all of this self help, twelve step, leftover hippie generation bullshit!
Connor MacManus: Now they don't want you to do anything, right? Just sit there. Don't drink.
Murphy MacManus: Don't smoke. Don't drive fast.
Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus, Rocco: Kiss my ass!
Rocco: Fuck it! Do it all I say! Do you think Duke Wayne spent all of his time talking about his feelings with a fuckin' therapist?
Connor MacManus: There's no fucking way he did!
Rocco: John Wayne died with five pounds of undigested red meat in his ass. Now that's a man! Real men hide their feelings. Why?
Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus, Rocco: Because it's none of your fuckin' business!
Rocco: Men do not cry. Men do not pout. Men jack you in the fuckin' jaw and say...
Detective Greenly: Thanks for comin' out.


Love it or hate it... It was done perfectly. They started shooting that scene before the script was even written. That's how low budget it was, and yet, I love it! Have I said I love it too many times? Because, I really really really love it.

Then, I watched Zeitgeist. Its extremely informing, but at the same time scary. It's about Christianity and where it started. The lies behind the Bible, and what all the meanings are of the miracle birth, which actually just represents the sun. The sun of god. You have to watch it to understand. It also exploits the 9/11 attacks, and explains how it was an inside job. It was planned so that America would go into war with Iraq and Afghanistan, the same plans were used in WWI, WWII, and the Vietnam war. And why? Money. Its all about the Federal Bank. Another interesting fact is that no American is obligated to file tax return forms. I didn't do it either when I was in America, but the Bank of America sent me the forms, and I lost it. There is no law which the Federal Bank complies with, they make their own rules and regulations, and people believe that they have to pay taxes to the Federal Bank, because they are told to do so.



Go and watch Zeitgeist. The end is shocking. Although its just conspiracy theories...

Thanks for comin' out.

What I know about fraud...

I'm writing this because I'm bored and I'm waiting for stuff to download. Aye! The tragedy of slow Internet in South Africa.

OK, so to start off, I know quite a lot about credit card fraud, and I think my information might be useful to others. I also know a bit about identity theft.

There are a few types of credit card fraud, namely: lost, stolen, lost in mail, counterfeit, false applications, and lastly card number misuse.

Lost cards are cards that have been lost, just to state the obvious. Like, if you know you keep your cards in your wallet, and then all of a sudden just one card is missing, you lost your card.

Stolen cards requires the card to be stolen. If your whole wallet goes missing, it was probably stolen by pickpocketing. If you left your wallet somewhere, you lost it. The most cases I had at the bank involving stolen credit cards, were by people who have been robbed, hijacked, smashed and grabbed, or their houses got broken into. Victims of stolen credit cards know that their cards got stolen, and because a credit card is the bank's property, you need to report that it was stolen. It can also be that you have been scammed at an ATM, and the suspects took your card after leaving...

Cards that get lost in the mail, is also quite obvious. Worst case scenario is that the transit vehicle got robbed.

Counterfeit cards are the most interesting cases there are, because to make a counterfeit card there has to be a common point of purchase between a few cards, where the card has been swiped through a skimmer device. So, what happens? The card gets skimmed, then the information from the skimmer device goes onto a computer, the syndicate then print cards (that looks completely different from your card) from different banks, or even international banks, with the suspects name on it. There can be multiple cards printed too. Then, after a card is printed, it gets used. For a lot of purchases. The syndicate tries to commit as much fraud as possible within the least amount of time. So, basically, a counterfeit card is a card with a victim's mag stripe on it, but nothing else.

False applications are easy to spot. Its identity theft in other words. False IDs, payslips, etc., get used to apply for a credit card in a fraudulent manner. For the trained eye, its easy to spot a false ID, but to find out if its a false payslip, you need to phone the company that person works for, and if its a false company, its even easier. To start a company, it has to be registered, so, if a company isn't registered, it doesn't exist. If the company does exist, and the applicant works there, and the payslip matches what he/ she actually earns, but that person didn't apply for a credit card, the suspect is most likely working for the HR department of that company, or a different company that was supplied with the victim's information. Well, anyway... When a false application gets approved, its also easy to spot. The credit card usage is what you look at then. Usually, from my experience, there will be a lot of ATM withdrawals, and then a lot of under-floor limit transactions. More about that later.

Card number misuse is when a card number, expiry date, and the CVV/ CVC number gets used to do manual transactions, either over the phone, or over the Internet. It's also extremely easy to spot. A lot of manual transactions will be on the client's statement, and the only way this can happen is if someone writes the information down at a common point of purchase, or someone living with the client, or the client used his/ her credit card on a not-secure website.

OK, so some things all fraudsters do when they have any type of fraudulent credit card is to spend as much as possible in as little as possible time. When its a lost or stolen card, it will usually be a group of fraudsters who split up. They would assign shops and items, except for one person in the group. So, one person buys electronics, one person buys food, one person buys clothes, one person buys furniture, etc. and the last one is the runner. He runs with the credit card from the one place to the other and gives it to the person at the till to pay. The sad thing is, the law...

If and when these persons get arrested, all the goods they bought has to be confiscated as evidence, and goods that expire are to be photographed and can be destroyed. Meaning, if they buy food, you can not keep food in an evidence safe, so the food can be eaten or given away. After the court proceedings, however, all the goods have to be given back to the fraudsters. Because its theirs. The goods were not stolen, because to steal something is to take it without permission. The goods that are bought with fraudulent credit cards are obtained in a fraudulent manner, but it has been obtained with permission of the merchants. The fraudster picks a TV that he/she wants, and the merchant accepts to give it to them if they receive payment. Merchants give fraudsters goods, sometimes they even wrap it nicely or even deliver it to their homes. Nice, isn't it?

So, how do we stop this? It's easy... Merchants have a signed agreement with the bank. They are supposed to compare the signed slips signature with the signature at the back of the credit card, and also ask for an ID to compare with the name that is embossed on the credit card. And if the credit card holder doesn't like it? TOUGH! The credit card that is used by the client is still the property of the bank, and the client also has a signed agreement with the bank. Contracts, contracts, contracts...

OK, then the last issue for today. Your wallet got lost and you stopped your (the banks... Hahaha!) card, and after you stopped it, transactions came through. How is this possible you ask? Easy, once again... Each merchant has a floor limit on their POS (point of sales) machine. So, let's say Sally owns a flower shop, her floor limit is R50. Every transaction over R50 is going to require authorization by the bank, every transaction below R50 is going to go through automatically, unless it is listed on the hot card list. A card is valid until it expires. That's why a stolen card can be used. So, the banks run listings daily of stopped cards that are being used. If a transaction was declined, the bank won't phone you, if it went through, they will phone to open a fraud case, and the money that was spent will be payed back to you.

Don't get mad at the bank if the transactions go through! It's not their fault. Not all stopped cards can be listed on the hot card file, there isn't enough space. And not all cards that have been stopped get used afterwards. It's cheaper to pay the client back than to buy more space on the system. Luckily, there are chip cards now, that make it a hell of a lot more difficult to commit fraud.

Hope I made you smarter...

Hospitality

I just laughed as I wrote the title for this blog. I'll tell you why in a second...

First off, let me say I received my fourth marriage proposal for the year, and they weren't jokes, it was serious proposals. First one this year was by a Canadian Mormon who had been divorced twice already, the second one was by a security guard (R1, but he's R2 now), the third one was by a kitchen staff member at the bar I work at, and then this week there was number four. He is a 42-year-old British man, with lots of facial hair. He's never been married, and he actually stayed at the bar until we closed just to be with me, which is really sweet in a way, but I'm not the one for him.

Then, tonight, one of the guys I gave my number to at the bar finally got the strenght to text me, asking me very politely if I would like to talk to him. I'll keep it posted as we go along...

Now, back to hospitality.

Hospitality
A noun
1 cordial reception, hospitality

kindness in welcoming guests or strangers

OK, so I've seen a few examples of hospitality this past month regarding a lot of situations. The first one is of course the 2010 FIFA Soccer World Cup that we are hosting, and seeing that I work in one of the busiest tourist districts, I see a lot of foreigners. I think I am hospitable. Until you touch or kiss me... Then I want to be destructive. Foreigners are strange beings, thinking that we South Africans are going to bend over to their every need and do things the way its done in other countries. Wrong! If you travel, you go and see new places and experience new things. If you wanted things to be the same as what you're used to, stay at home!

Yes, South Africa is responsible for exploiting all of the foreigners that come here, but if you listen to me, I'll send you to the cheap, just-as-nice places surrounding the expensive places.

But I'm not worried about humans, humans can help themselves.

Dogs can't.

My sister picked up a dehydrated, starved, abandoned dog. A beautiful dog. A two-year-old female Basset Hound. We took her in until we can find her a stable home. The first time I saw her, she was too weak to stand on her own four paws. Her tail was constantly hiding between her legs. We gave her dog pellets, and water, and watched how she gobbled it up. Then came fish cakes and fish fingers. Yet, she didn't wag her tail. Then my cat came walking in, completely unaware of the three-times his size dog freelancing in the living room, and she licked him! LOL! If a cat had human facial expressions, looks would kill! The doggy finally wagged her tail, but my cat ignored me for 2 days, wanting nothing to do with me.


So, after three days she looks a lot better. I took her to the doggy parlor, and now her skin is extremely smooth, her ears are still chipped and swollen, and I have no idea what happened to her. My sister took the doggy to the veterinarian, and they couldn't find a chip to locate the owners, but its their loss. They don't know what a great dog they lost. She is joyful, loving, and as calm as a dope smoker. I named her Lucy today. I was listening to the Beatles when I wanted to name her - Lucy and the sky of diamonds. Unfortunately she can't stay, we already have four dogs, and none of them like her, but at least Lucy keeps big Bruno in his place. And another reason we can't keep her would be: if my parents come back from Australia and there's another dog here, my daddy is going to flip!

That was all the good news I have. Now for the bad news.

Well, on Monday night, actually Tuesday morning, after work I stopped at our Community Policing Offices. As I was talking to the Control Room lady, a call came through that shots were fired, not far away and that there was a break-in at a hardware store. I went there to see what happened, as always, I can't help myself. So, two black men, in their late twenties broke into the hardware store, they broke through the roof. A silent alarm went off and awoke the owner. The owner and his son went into their hardware store and heard the suspects on the roof. The owner told his son to go around the building with his shotgun and make sure that they don't get away. The son saw where the suspects climbed onto the roof, and he climbed up, and then he fired two shots in the dark.

Our response vehicle was on the scene first. Then the ambulance and the police showed up at the same time. They were there for a few minutes before I showed up. The paramedics, police officers, and one of our community policing members went onto the roof. They found the two suspects on the roof with bullet wounds through their legs. The one suspect (X) tried to run away, but he wasn't looking where he was running. The roof has two platforms. Between the two of them there is about a 1.5 meter drop. X ran and fell off, he fell hard, we suspected that he broke his pelvis. The other one (Y) was just sitting on the top platform waiting to be arrested.

Y was taken down first. He was arrested and his hands got tied up with cable ties. He was wearing a black and blue bikers jacket and BMW shoes worth R3 000. We were all cracking jokes about his clothes and how much it cost. It was all fun and games up until a point. The point comes a bit later.

X fell so hard, he couldn't walk. The paramedics said he looked a bit broken when they got there, in the position as shown here. They had to get the paramedic and the suspect down with the help of the fire department, because they were stuck.

Anyway, all the men were extremely arrogant towards the two suspects, and then one of them started touching them. First a pat on the shoulder, then a tap on the leg. Y went into the ambulance were an unskilled police officer tried to put a drip into his arm. I was unaware of this until the ambulance door opened. It was horrific, it looked like he skinned a piece of his arm off.

X had it worse. This man that started touching the suspects told the police officers to look away, and away they went... X was tied up, scared to death, and he was shaking. He was shaking, either of the pain, or the cold. This man... Kicked him... About 6 times, I didn't count. He kicked him until I said stop. I... Me...

Not the police officers... Me!

I dreamt that night that I gave that man a butterfly kick to his head and he fell face first to the floor. It would have been nice if I could do it and did do it.

I said it before and I'll say it again. I hate criminals. The idea is to arrest a perpetrator. Not kill him. If these to suspects were armed and dangerous and fired shots at us or endangered our lives in any way, by all means, beat the crap out of them.

But these two... They could have been trying to manipulate us by acting sympathetic, but they were already arrested. They were cold. They were in pain. Why the hell torture them then? This isn't Zimbabwe.

I don't know what happened to them afterwards. When X got loaded into the ambulance with Y, I left.

Next time, I promise, I WILL MAKE A CITIZEN'S ARREST. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO SO, AND I WILL USE MY RIGHTS.

I said previously that humans can help themselves... Humans are the only animals which are known to kill for fun. So, maybe I'm wrong. I think 70% of all humans are useless, because they steal, they corrupt, they abuse, they kill, and they don't live life to the fullest.

Yes, I'm not making the most of my life either, but at least my grey matter works better than idiots who kick people while their down.

Don't be sorry...

This week has been interesting so far. I figured out that if you don't phone your friends, they eventually phone you. I'm glad.

Other interesting events have included drunk confessions, reckless driving, and once again... Religion.

Well, starting with drunk confessions. I can't handle my alcohol anymore, its a bad thing, it makes me a cheap date. Anyway, one night after work, two of my colleagues and I got drunk. I chewed all my nails off again, and now my hands look like they're homeless. As always, when drunk, you start talking about extremely deep subjects. For some reason I started telling the two "friends" about my dad. Aggression.

The earliest memory I have of my childhood was when I lived in Nylstroom. I used to call it Huunstroom. Silly. The memory I have isn't traumatising, but it has to be explained. Bobby, my sausage dog at that stage, and I went for a walk, I was still in diapers, and my dad obviously freaked when he couldn't find me. He went looking for me and found me, and spanked me all the way home. Lesson learnt.

Another memory was when I was in preschool, about four or five years old. The whole family went grocery shopping, and when we returned, I offered to unlock the front door. It just so happened that I was unable to open the door, because I couldn't fit the key in the hole, and my dad got impatient, and spanked me. I wet myself.

In Grade 6 I was obligated to polish all my dad's shoes. I liked the park and cartoons better, and I really didn't want to spend the afternoon cleaning my dad's stuff. Some people call it lazy. I call it misunderstood priorities. If you've ever watched WWE, you would know what a choke-slam is. At age 12 I got choke-slammed by my dad because of his dusty shoes.

The last beating I got was in Grade 9, if I'm not mistaken... Wynand. My first love. We had an extremely manipulative relationship. I always mention that first, interestingly enough. We made blood-promises by pricking our index fingers and squishing the blood all over a written promise. Mine were always in heart shapes. Anyway, this particular night, we had a fight, and I told him that it would be the last time he ever heard from me. Suicidal messages seeking attention. He phoned my mom and told he that I was trying to commit suicide. She panicked, came into my room and started asking me questions, raising her voice with every word she spoke, until my dad came into my room, and my mom informed him of my intentions.

He left the room for a few moments and came back with our Zambok. If your South African, you would know what it is, if your don't, its a rock-hard, rubber, thing... Some will call it a weapon, some would call it a self-defence mechanism. Its something between a stick and a whip. Ours had a faded red handle. It hurt like hell, the few times my dad got me. I was hiding behind my mom, she got caught in the cross-fire, so did my walls, posters, and closet doors... There were black stripes all over the room, my arms, my mom's arms, my back, and my legs. I even remember getting hit with a fist at some point, but the chronological order has been forgotten now. I fell to the floor and got dragged outside by my hair. My dad is big and strong. My dad told my mom to make sure I don't "escape". He went into the garage. My hands got tied up with a cable-tie for about 30 minutes. Not to sound sadistic, but this is my favourite part. Ever seen GI Jane? Hands tied at the back, standing on her knees, all beat up...

That was me, but with hair...

My daddy shouted at me to stand up, I was getting up, and then I got knocked to the floor again. He pulled on the cable tie somehow, and then I got dragged into the kitchen by my hair. The best feeling I ever had, thinking I was about to die, and telling my dad what a piece of crap he is.

My dad is touchy about suicide. His brother committed suicide. His best friend committed suicide. He was honestly trying to save me. He just didn't know me well enough to understand how my brain works.

He called Wynand's dad, and now that I think back, I really don't know what he was trying to accomplish. Why phone an innocent bystander when I'm the "problem"? Ha! Like Wynand's dad would understand me if my own dad didn't understand me at that stage... Long story short, my hands went purple because my blood wasn't circulating. And when my hands got freed, I started pulling out all the dead hair that was in between my attached hair. It drove my dad nuts. That next day my dad burnt the Zambok, and promised never to touch me again. He kept his promise, and then he sent me back to the psychologist.

Aye! What a life...

So, yes... I'm aggressive because of my dad, that's my own psycho analysis. I like pain, because I'm used to it. I'm fearless, because I've shaken hands with death. I look for trouble, because it keeps me alive. And I like drama, it amuses me.

Shaken hands with death? Um, when I was nine or ten, my grandmother (my dad's mom) came and lived with us. She used to lock me and my sister in the house, way before that... I think I was five or six when she looked after us during the holidays. All the memories I have of her actually. Anyway, she locked us in the house and told us we couldn't play outside, because the kaffers are going to rape and kill us.

At age eleven I had my first anxiety attack. It was just after 19:00, I know this because we were watching the news. My dad asked me to get him another plate of pasta, I went to the kitchen, put my plate in the basin, and I swear I saw a masked man with a gun. I went into the hallway and told my dad that I wasn't feeling well. His reply: "If you're too lazy to do it, I will!" I told him I wasn't lazy, and I apologized. I always apologized. And if you know me, you know how much I say sorry for no reason. I went back into the kitchen, had a glass of water and then I collapsed.

Hate to say I told you so.

My grandmother was the first one there from what I can remember, trying to do the Heimlich maneuver. Then my mom came in. And then my dad. Why I even talked to him back then confuses me. He never listened anyway. I blacked out after that. Apparently I shat myself, and then when I came back, I was on the toilet. I was hyperventilating, blind, I had diarrhea, and I was crying, saying over and over "I'm dying. I'm dying." I didn't die, but everyone thought I was close. This lasted up until just after midnight. I passed out and came back a few times. My lips were blue, because there wasn't enough oxygen in my blood. I was blind for the same reason. Just because I couldn't breathe. I remember my mom getting a brown paper bag and telling me to breathe in and out, but I thought I was suffocating, so, that didn't last long. Five hours of anxiety isn't that fun. But its one of those moments in time I'll never forget.

The first psychiatrist told me to draw a picture of my house. I drew a pretty house, with no door nob. So, no one can get in or out. Then I had to draw a picture of my family. If you take me, my sister, my mom, my dad, and my grandmother, and you put us in a Domino 5, my sister and I at the bottom, my mom and my dad at the top, and my grandmother in the middle, with a house, flowers and trees in the back round, you can see why the psychiatrist said that my grandmother was in the middle of the family, and we won't have relationships until she leaves.

My grandmother was sent to an old-age home, but the anxiety attacks never stopped.

And then I started getting migraines, but luckily I outgrew them. Stress related migraines aren't very common in 11-year-old children.

Maybe I should just shut up when I'm drunk.

And shut up when talking about religion when I'm around my sister, she still believes in Jesus. I don't want to spoil it for her. Its like when you're the oldest child and the younger child believes in Santa Clause, and you know he's fake. You just don't spoil it for them. They have dreams too.

That's the end of my sad story for now...

World Cup Madness!

I went to Dropzone after work. My voice is gone, but that's not the problem... Argentina is my problem. The men are terrible.

I got kissed and touched by random Argentinian men. And I'm mad.

I like the fact that we get to host the FIFA 2010 Soccer World Cup, but the hings I don't like is that all the tourists are being exploited with alcohol, airline tickets, and hotel prices.

One guy I work with took an Argentinian's cigarette and killed it because he was smoking in a non-smoking area, and the Argentinian thought it was extremely rude and he wanted to fight. For fuck sakes! Just go smoke in the smoking section. I, myself, am a smoker and I don't like to go dancing without a smoke in my one hand and a drink in the other, but that's the rules that were set by the owner.

Is it so hard to obey rules? YES...

I don't drive under the speed limit, I also, on occasion drive drunk, but it's not out of ignorance. I know the rules and regulations and the law.

The Argentinian went on and on about Argentina this and Argentina that... Idiot... When I was in America I obeyed the law. It's just something one should do when visiting a different country. So, he thought all South Africans are rude. And I'm OK with that. Girls in this country aren't as easy as girls from anywhere else in the world. We're difficult.

Speaking of difficult, R1, the guy that I patrol with every now and then, really likes me. I honestly don't feel the same about him, yet I let his hold my hand and play along. I don't want to break his heart, he's a sweet guy. And he just found out he fathered a child. The woman didn't even let him know that she was pregnant.

I can't see how any woman wouldn't tell the father of the child that she is pregnant. I would insist on marriage if something like that happened to me. Actually, I wouldn't make the mistake of getting pregnant in the first place.

The recent good news in my life is that my parents went to Australia for a month now. I'm extremely glad that my mom gets a nice vacation. She's never been out of South Africa, except for Lesotho, and that hardly counts as "out of the country". And I stopped biting my nails. I should just keep it that way.

I also subscribed to the DA's newsletter, so I'm receiving weekly e-mails from Hellen Zille. I love her. She's brilliant, educated, and she can actually make a difference in this country.

The worst thing that's happened so far this month is that my sister was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Luckily is was misdiagnosed, she only had a brain infection. The swelling in the bain caused blurry vision and she couldn't see. It's better now. And she got schedule 5 painkillers. Those are goooooood! My wisdom teeth are cutting again, the sixth time in my lifetime, so I have a cold. It sucks.

Getting back to the Soccer World Cup... If the bar I work at didn't raise their prices, we would have leverage against the rest of the bars in the area, but the owner isn't as bright as he should be.

I started thinking about church again. I feel that I want to go, but I don't believe in what their teaching. I was thinking about the birth of Jesus. Who the heck travels to the middle of nowhere when their nine months pregnant? And where did Mary and Joseph travel from? Where were they going in the middle of the night? Some things just don't add up.

All I'm constantly thinking of is my German friend coming to visit me, my course I need to finish, and joining the Police service next year. And somewhere along the line I still need to find myself a good man, and get my tattoo. Oh, and so far, I received two marks for my assignments, one 85% and the other 80%, now I'm just waiting for the other two marks. Damn I'm good!

I should probably start with my next four assignments, just to get it done, because I'm not studying at all. And I need more Vitamin D. I don't get enough sunlight. And I haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks, but I'm sick now, so I can't, I don't want to strain my heart. I do need to get fit though.

I really need to sort out my life NOW.

But atleast I'm happy.

Oh drunkness...

Ok, so I'm drunk right now... Woopdidoo!

First off, that chart I made didn't inspire me... I'm not doing what I said I would with the diet and exercise. And I got a job. I'm bar tending. Its fun.

R2 and I... Well, I don't know what's going on there. He held my hand last night, as I almost fell asleep. And I liked it. But I don't think I like him as much as he likes me.

One of my regulars touched and kissed me tonight, he's also a bit older. I don't think I like him either, but its nice knowing I'm datable.

I'm saving up money for my tattoo now. And I must say, I'm not doing bad as a bar tender. I'm also saving up for my road trip with my German friend. I can't wait to go tour through South Africa with her.

My assignments are also done. Thank god!

Good news lies in the future, the police are taking new recruits in January, for a year! I can't wait!!!

Now I really need to get fit...

Life is funny. I'm doing the bar tending job because I can't sit at home anymore, its too boring. And I'm making more money than the other girls. But I'm not getting time to go to the gym. Things need to change.

On the darker side of life, my grandmother is dying. She's the last one I have left, but I don't think that I'll cry about her. After all, she's the one that caused my anxiety problems in the first place. I grew up with her, she used to lock me and my sister in the house saying that we were going to get killed and raped. Good times...

My mommy and daddy are flying to Australia this month, and I think R2 is going to come stay with me for a month, he got kicked out of his apartment... He feels really strongly about me, but I don't know... He's not my type, and he's a bit old, but a fling would be nice.

I wish life would have more time.

I really want to experience everything in life, except the drugs. Can't stand the drugs.

Good thing is, I look real pretty these days, I do my hair and make up each day before I go to work, and the guys seem to like it a lot.

Let me go sleep...