You know what really grinds my gears?

Matt’s brilliant and that’s all I have to say for today.

The Little Engine that Couldn't

When people tell you to calm down when you’re not even remotely upset. Even worse is when the person saying this is easily the least certified person to be telling anyone to relax. Does this happen to anyone else, or is it just me?

(Note: There is slightly more profanity than usual in this post, so don’t say you haven’t been warned.)

One time this happened and I simply found it funny, because I mean come on, all I did was ask the fry person at my job how long it was going to be on the next batch of fries. A customer wanted her fries with no salt, and in order to do that you had to make a whole new batch, and she wanted to know how long that would take. So I walked over to the girl currently in charge the fry station and said, “hey, how long on that next batch?”


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Okay, look. I know my blog reaches people. I don’t know their ages, but I do know that I have a whole bunch of parents who are friends with me on Facebook and they should read this. Alright. Beginning.

Parents. Let’s talk about privacy.

There are some rules about having a teenager. First off, do not DO NOT DON’T invalidate their feelings. Don’t tell them that “everyone gets depressed” or retort with something you’re used to saying like, “clean your room” when they talk about wanting to die.

Secondly, respect their damn privacy. I’m speaking on behalf of teenagers, so when I say us, I mean your kids.

SNOOPING AROUND DOES NOT HELP. The facts are these: parents who think that combing through every possession of ours until they find something incriminating are not helpful. You guys create better liars. Seriously. Go through our journals one time and I swear to all that is holy, in the seven minutes that you were yelling about how we’re not allowed to profane or buy more CDs or talk about boys the way we do, we’ll have created at least four new lies and cover ups for the next time. Promise.

IT’S MY HOUSE is not an excuse. Yes, parents, I am calling you the hell out on this. It may be your house but the living space belongs to us and it is NOT your place to go through it. It is not your right nor automatic privilege to raise hell because we’re not fully functioning adults. One word: TEENAGER. We screw up. It’s what we do. We’re kids and there is nothing worse than a parent making you feel like your existence is a burden. Because this thing where parents expect us to be visions of Christ at seventeen is ridiculous.

STOP. GOING. THROUGH. OUR. STUFF. It will not make you closer to us, it will not give you a better picture of how “things : are, and it will sure ass hell NOT tell you what we are going through. It’ll make you think you’re doing the right thing, and that you’re on the right track, but you’ll really just be driving the wedge between you and your teenagers deeper, okay?

Lastly, threats are not okay. You can’t threaten us with everything we hold near to us and expect us to snap up and all of a sudden be the twenty four year old you wish you gave birth to. Don’t threaten us with our friends, music, diets, routines. NOT. OKAY.  Don’t terrorise your kids in an attempt to fix them for God’s sake BE CIVIL WITH US.

I am angry and this is important. Pay attention, mothers. Take note, fathers. Open your eyes, anyone who takes care of a teenager.



It’s another Tuesday, it’s another Tunesday!

(Shalom, what’s Tunesday?)

Well, here’s the first installment. It’s different to Hannah Hart’s Tunesday, which you totally should check out here, because instead of answering questions, I give music recs. I’d make this a feature, but we’ve all seen how Shalom and scheduled posts operate.


1. Message Man by Twenty One Pilots

Twenty One Pilots is The Band. You know how everyone has that one band or artist that they are absolutely mental about? That’s them. Yes. You see, I’m one of those “saved by the music” fans, and since they entered my life in 2012, I have not been able to shake them. Resonably so, seeing that the music, and the members, are Uh. Maze. Ing. Twenty One Pilots is Tyler Joseph (vocals/piano/ukelele/bass) and Josh Dun (drums/trumpet). Message Man is the 11th track off their latest offering, Blurryface. In four words? This may change you. Arguably one of my favourite songs off the album, Message Man deals with more than how we live in the world, but also the importance of being alert and awake while being alive. I’m doing a poor job. Just, just listen to it.

2. Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko

This song is just wow. I’m doing very badly at adjectives today, can you tell? My friend Engie wrote this here post and introduced me to this song. Two things about this: (1) Hayley Kiyoko has insane talent musically, and also in terms of directing. (2) Girl steals girl? Yes! Yes! This song was so refreshing and so, so needed, because I swear, if Mr Steal Yo Girl goes ahead and STEALS YO GIRL while Ms. Steal Yo Girl is just as (if not more?) capable of doing so people should know. Fave lines: “Always gonna steal your thunder, watch me like a dark cloud /on the move collecting numbers, Imma take your girl out.”

Watch. Listen. DO IT.

3. Hallelujah by Panic! At The Disco

ALL YOU SINNERS, LISTEN UP. Okay, so maybe this post did turn into an alternative music flurry of stuff, but this song is important. Even if you’ve never heard of P!ATD, Brendon Urie’s vocal range should do it for you. This video will not make sense to you immediately – the band has a habit of doing that. Anyway, Hallelujah is about, I don’t know, whatever you want it to be. It’s all about “A moment you’ll never remember and a night you’ll never forget.” Do yourself a favour, because “the time for being sad is over” and it is TIME to watch 80% confused and 20% dancing Brendon Urie.

Thus concludes Tunesday! These have been my faves for the last week or two and I like documenting these things. There we go.


love and light,
shalom x

From A Coffee Shop Across The World | connect

NaBloPoMo? More like NaBloPo-every-time-I’m-not-at-maths-or-feeling-like-crap-Mo. Seriously, one of these months, I’m going to have to actually complete one of these challenges. Properly, I mean.

In any case, Hello Internet! I’ve been in this coffee shop for the last three (four?) hours, and I’m beginning to think I’ve overstayed my welcome. I get it, I only bought a small cappuccino but it was my SECOND coffee of the day and I still paid for it. That info aside, I’m writing this now because I’ll be damned if I don’t use the free wifi. (Technically, it’s not free. I paid for it when I paid for my cappuccino. Free. Pah.)

I’ve spent today trying to plan out the next month or two, because I have prelims (huge mock exams that count far too much) starting on August 18th, and I really. Need. To. Get. My. Self. Together.

I thought, after staring at people who walked past me and saw me nursing my coffee, that I might let you all know some things I’ve grown to know about these places. Coffee shops, I mean.

  • I spend too much time in them.

Not even because I like coffee. I mean, I’ve grown to love a cappuccino, but I originally started frequenting all of these places because the internet at my house is unbearably slow. I’m a caffeine girl now. But, just as well, the internet situation at my house has not changed.

  • Strangers! They are funny! And interesting! Unless they kidnap you or take strange photographs!

(I feel like that says enough.)

  • They’re refreshing. In a decaf way.

Call me cliched, but I genuinely adore the noise of coffee shops and the sound of those machine thingies. They do wonders for my thinking. If you enjoy those sounds too, Coffitivity is a GREAT app.

That’s all I can say. My 100MB are about to run out, and I still haven’t posted anything on Instagram.

(the struggle.)

shalom x

good job, tumblr. | connect

Before I start this post, I’d like to let you know that my little sister decided today that “Draco would really love the game Whack-A-Weasel. I bet every Malfoy has a Whack-A-Weasel machine and laughs whenever they play.”

So, Tumblr. If you don;t know what Tumblr is, I would suggest keeping it that way. Because once you get sucked in, you’re likely to never leave. Buuuuuut it’s also possibly the best thing in world, and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t.

Tumblr is a “microblogging platform and social networking website founded by David Karp and owned by Yahoo! Inc. The service allows users to post multimedia and other content to a short-form blog.” (Thanks  Wikipedia.) In short, Tumblr is  a place where people are 980 times more offended by regular people, where everybody is the same age whether you’re twelve or fifty-two, and where you will literally learn enough to change the world. Tumblr has about 50 million users, who can know as much about you as you want them to know in a matter of seconds. Fair warning: 39 million of them are angry and get very, very short with people that offend them with anything (read: everything).

But why are you talking about Tumblr, Shalom? 

I ship it.

Well, today, Tumblr went a little crazy with a shipping marathon. No, the people of the internet were not packing fish into boxes and sending them across the ocean. Is it strange that that’s the first thing I think of when I see shipping? Possibly. ANYWAY. Shipping. Today.

Shipping, initially derived from the word relationship, is the desire by fans for two people, either real-life celebrities or fictional characters, to be in a relationship, romantic or otherwise. Tumblr is brilliant at this.  Today, a I got asks (messages from Tumblr) shipping a friend (read: giant. crush.) and me. And then I got more. And we talked about it, I guess, and we both ship the ship. I don’t know if this means I’ve outed my crush on my crush to my crush. Possibly. (Why crush? Why not passing fancy?)

In short: Good job, Tumblr. This ship may well sail.

love and light,



I’ve done too much physics today. I hate physics. I’m ready for a language/linguistics lesson. Are you? No? Here’s a angry British guy screaming about the traffic. Strong. Language.

Okay, so my question for the internet after four hours of trying to figure out whether the frequency of the sound made by a police siren, when heard by an observer…heck, I don’t even know what I was doing. It was physics. Something about Doppler. Probably crazy interesting. IF I KNEW A THING ABOUT PHYSICS.


So, as most words do, connect comes from from  the Latin connectere, which comes from more Latin: con meaning ‘together’ and  nectere  meaning ‘bind’.

The word connect  itself only came about in late Middle English, with the original definintion being to ‘be united physically’. It was rare before the 18th century, but it also went crazily unused between 1960 and 1980. And then came the dawn of the social networks.

Y’all. Connect got it’s flair back. You know it.

(so can you, shalom. leave this post with whatever flair you pretend to have.)

While there are nine good definitions that google found somewhere withing the 268 000 000 results in 0.21 seconds, I think that the word, sans definition, is great. Maybe I should learn Latin and become the polyglot I’ve always dreamed of being.

Alright. I’ve yelled at trees and played a song that my new lovely blogging (and Facebook) pal Engie introduced to me to 94 times. As in, I’ve listened to it 94 times and developed physics mock exam questions about girls on swings based on it. Here’s the link. (Read the post, too.)

Shalom is retiring. She’s in a strange place – she has a crush on someone you see. And we think she’s gone around the bend. But the best things are a little wonky, aren’t they? (I was going to say the best things aren’t straight but that could be interpreted as offensive and I’m trying not to have to transform into a more of a potato to roll away from situations like that.)

love and light,
shalom x

this counts as two posts because i was kidnapped|connect


My birthday happened! I am alright! I have lived to seventeen! I’m still quite anxious-y about it all, but give me a week and I’ll be alright. The question at hand is this: kidnapped?

Yes, kidnapped.

By my friends. Yesterday, while everyone was celebrating Murica’s birthday (regardless of whether they understood why), my friends whisked me away and threw a surprise party for me. Oh gosh, a teen girl surprise party, how expected. Except not. You see, for starters, I couldn’t write a post. I was to busy being fed cake and showered with sparklers on said cakes (PLURAL. CAKE-S.) and gifts (and also GIFs). Secondly, I was surprised at the surprise, but I was more surprised at what the friends managed to pull off – they got Sarah.

Sarah? Who’s Sarah?

Sarah is my absolute hjsadjfkghh. I can’t really explain it more than that. I hadn’t seen her in a year and a half (almost to the day) and somehow, they made it happen. It’s a strange thing, when you connect with someone after being away from them for so long, but still feel like you see them every day.

The thing about both Sarah and myself is that we’re not the best with people. It’s very easy for me, at least, to do my best to try and feel comfortable with a new group of people and completely freak out instead. What baffled me was the way Sarah was 900% ALRIGHT. Not because she’s incapable of being fine, but because I was (a) terrified that maybe for some reason she wouldn’t be okay with me due to the fact that I hadn’t laid eyes on her in 18 months (b) much less with other strangers she had never met.

I feel like this has turned into a waffle.

No, not that kind of waffle. The one where I just talk and talk (write and write?) and then lose myself so completely that my train of thought derails. Gone. Pew pew. Explosion.

Thanks for sitting through this. The ABEC is coming to a close. Things are winding down. I am now the owner of high heels. Yikes.

love and light


the day before| connect



It’s the day/night before the age-a-tron comes to take hold of me!

It’s been exhausting. Today I managed to conduct an interview with several young, powerful black women who are probably going to change the world, get my prom dress fitted, but two dresses for the afterparty (I am unaware of how party things work, as I am in fact a potato.), buy my first! pair! of! heels! and have laughs over noodles and cinnamon tea with my mom and sister.

I’ve easily come into contact with more people today than I have in the past six months.

I swear, these posts are getting shorter and shorter, but I think as soon as the ABEC passes, I’ll be more…regular.

I’m stopping. I have four minutes of sixteen left. Wowowowowowowow.

love and light

off balance|connect


Same, Kanye.

Okay, so maybe I’m a little bit of a wreck.

Greetings, amigos! While completely missing the fact that it is already the 2nd of July, I managed to almost procrastinate my way into oblivion. I managed to remember that today is not Wednesday, and that I somehow missed roughly nineteen hours. I have no idea how, but I am THOROUGHLY off balance.

Now, there’s something about being completely disconnected from the rest of everything for a while, even if you’re not sure how it happened. In case you were wondering, the NaBloPoMo theme is still connect. Not “recount-your-unimpressive-time-management-woes”.

Being detached makes you -makes me- evaluate things. In a flurry of panic, I tend to have these out of body experiences, in which I’m not involved in the chaos at all – just an observer. I see everything happening, and I guess the powerlessness I experience connects me to the chaos in some way. It’s not an impressive thought or statement – it’s just that not being involved in the craziness while seeing or otherwise experiencing  the craziness is enough to make one part of it.

This has been rambly. Rambly typing while shaking and rambly loud HOW DO I HAVE A DRESS APPOINTMENT TOMORROW thoughts.

Excuse me while I eat cheese curls and marvel at my own inefficiency, because I’ve procrastinated myself into too much of a panic to fix any of the terrible mistakes I’ve made by somehow skipping June 30th. The only thing (probably) that’s going to get me through this is the ridiculously loud volume at which Centuries à la Fall Out Boy is playing in my ears. Bless you, Patrick Stump.

shalom x

one month later|connect

a pep talk for julyIn all honesty, I’m completely clueless how to go about writing this post. In actual fact, I’m not entirely sure about how this sentence will go; I’m just hoping it turns out okay by the end. Phew. Seems satisfactory.

I’ll be writing a post every day of July this ye– oh, wait: where have you heard that before? Yes. Here. Where NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo were both embarrassingly attempted by me. Well, I’ll be doing it. Again. Not the embarrassing part though. I thoroughly intend to finish!

This year’s theme is connect, as you can tell by the snazzy little badge I’ve snagged in the sidebar, and I’m pretty keen to find out what kind of trash (and hopefully, some non-trash) I’ll be spewing for a month. That…that there is a vivid image. Good job, Shalom.

ONTO THE FIRST POST! I haven’t updated this blog in almost exactly a month, and there are many reasons and excuses I could give. June is exam month in South Africa and every day from June 5th onward was a horrible practical joke. At least I hope it was. If it wasn’t, my physics and chemistry exams will let me know (THEY WENT HORRIBLY LIKE BURN THE REPORT CARD BEFORE YOUR MOTHER SEES IT HORRIBLY). Also, I’ve been going through the 7th Annual Birthday Existential Crisis, because I’m ageing soon.

“Gosh, Scoot, you’re so dramatic.”
Yes. Yes I am.

I am also very, very panicked about being older. (If you missed the 6th ABEC, you can catch yourself up here.) I tend to shrink into myself more than I do when I’m alone during this time of year (which is an awful lot, I’ll have you know), so connecting, in a word, becomes difficult. The ABEC forces me to find new ways to deal with things that I’m perfectly equipped to during any time of the year apart from the days between June 20th and July 10th.

I suppose that the extensive number of emails I’ve sent out to American universities (HELLO Bethel College and University of Iowa thank you for replying always except when you don’t :)) counts as some form of connecting- I haven’t failed completely at that.

Worry not friends – I ensure you (at least I hope to everything) that every July post will not be as anxiety ridden and angst filled as I currently am. I feel like I’ll come around. The thing about me, about the things I go through-about the depression and the anxiety and the eating and the school- is that I always get through. I don’t know how, but I do. And I like to think that I always will.

In the words of Luigi:Here we go!

yours, shalom