a letter to my thighs | honest letters #2

Dear left thigh and right thigh,

You two have been kept apart for so long, and I know that now that you spend every waking (and sleeping) hour touching each other, you’re a little uncomfortable. Let me tell you, I’m pretty bloody uncomfortable myself.

I know you resent the lack of the comfy distance between you two. That elusive thigh gap that made you two stay away from each other and made me “skinny” is gone, and my two hands can no longer perfectly fit around one of you. I know that it sucks and I know that it’s partially my fault for spending 30% of my allowance on food before the month even starts. I get it! But I’m not sorry. I’ve been working out, like, loads. Okay. Not loads. Enough. I go to Wits! Everything is a fricken 15 minute walk from everything. I literally make sure that you get exercise every day because we all walk home together. See?

I know that this isn’t satisfying, and that you’d still like to know why you’re stuck together, and the reason is this: estrogen.

Niiiice, Shalom, blame it on the hormones blah blah blah. I am blaming it on the hormones! It’s their fault! I’m sorry for not consulting with you before I started this birth control, but it was a bit of a split-second-try-to-save-yourself-from-your-body-that-may-be-trying-to-kill-you decision. Hormone regulation isn’t fun. Trust me, I didn’t sacrifice your personal space because hoe is life. Though, if I did, you’d have to shut up and deal. I appreciate that.

I know that you hate the fact that I have to have to unstick you guys and that all the god forsaken chafing is driving you up the wall, but I want you to know that I love you. I mean, maybe I don’t yet, but I’m really trying to.

We’ve been through a lot together. You’ve literally held me up for eighteen and a half years and I’m really grateful for you leg-parts. We’ve made it through ballet and eating disorders and sports politics and running from robbers with guns and dancing on people at parties. This is a change, and maybe you’re making me buy new pants for the first time in six years, but I’m gonna stick this out with you.

Thanks for being part of me.

love and light,
shalom xo

monthly me | september 2016

Hi one and all! It’s been a solid week or two since I even checked up on my WordPress stats, but my lil baby Gertrude (my computer) has all but given up on me completely, so I’m chalking it up to that.

I hope you’ve been well. September is gone, and much like the other months of 2016, it’s happened too fast. With that said, lettuce jump into the salad that was September.

(I just got back from a birthday picnic with some dear friends from high school and some new people and let me just say that everyone is better outside of high school. Seriously.)

from the camera roll

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happenings this month

  • finally. Made. FRIENDS. Took me long enough! I made friends with the most lovely people who greatly appreciate my breakfast making skills. It took me long enough, but at the end of the year is better than not at all – and I’m really glad that it’s them. If any of you are reading this – Ash, Sarah, Andrea, Gabriela, Monray, Jay, Quinn, David, Kgomotso – I’m bringing pancakes when campus opens. Be there.
  • My blog and I were recognised!!!!!!! In real life!!!!! BY TWO DIFFERENT HUMANS!!!! One of them was giving me a wax, which was a bit awkward, but the other was outside a test venue. I was happy.
  • #FeesMustFall2016 is still happening, but the Minister for Higher Education screwed up and said that fees are going up by a maximum of 8% this year and is shucking himself of all responsibility. Protests have been real, and stones have been thrown, but we’ll keep fighting.
  • Dubious skype session with a love of mine who’s in Cape Town. We see you, Ashley and Robbie.
  • We turned three! Yesterday/Today (I made this blog at midnight) was my three year blogging anniversary, and I’m so grateful for the people I’ve “met” and met, and the people who I still am yet to. Thanks for reading and living in my corner of the internet with me.

music on repeat

i’ve told you time and time again
i’m not as think as you drunk i am

we may as well call september “the month of Lana” because i have listened to almost nothing but “Born to Die: The Paradise Edition” for the last 30 days.

i’m just a little person / one person in a sea
of many little people / who are not aware of me

snippets of internal monologue

  • If I take this shot, someone might get shot. Will I get shot? Oh man. I’m taking the shot.
  • This boy who apologised for “leading me on”, does he know that I’d have to be interested for him to lead me on?
  • ULTIMATE GAY. THAT’S WHO ASH IS. ULTIMATE GAY.
  • Lord, if my boobs get any bigger I MAY DIE.
  • Why why WHY couldn’t I at least have been awake when they robbed me?

obsessions

  • Spontaneous breakfast making sessions for my pals
  • Snapchat! I’ve been using it so much.
  • Checking my Lisbon hostel reservation
  • MY PALS IN LONDON I LOVE YOU TASH AND MIRANDA (i’m a mirfanda)

In September I was robbed, drunk, tired, crying, dangerous, and very drained. I’ve started October on the best note, and I don’t know whether or not I’m going back to campus, or whether I’ll be finished with first year in November, or whether or not I’m about to screw myself over. I probably am. But I mean, screwing up is at least a fifth of the fun, right?

love and light,
shalom

bite, chew, chew, swallow

People used to say, (and they probably still do) “don’t bite off more than you can chew.” My genuine response to that for six years was, “don’t worry, I have a really big mouth.”

My mom had a way of teaching me to chew with my mouth closed: she’d tell me in a singsong way to “chew, chew; swallow, swallow.” I tried to sing the song while I ate. The food went everywhere and it was gross.

In high school, I wanted to take French and biology as extra subjects. They’d cost quite a bit of money to do outside of school, and my grade tutor warned me not to overwhelm myself. I wanted to tell her about this gif:

So far, this post has been full of stories of me trying to do the absolute most, and forgetting about the tiny human defect I have: being a human being. I forget that I am a person who is more than the number of things she couldn’t get done that day. I forget that forgetting to eat for two days isn’t really a good start to a semester. I forget that I get to take a step back and chew, then step down and swallow before I get back up again.

If I’m talking to you when I say what I’m about to say – and I am talking to you- listen. Take time to chew. If you’ve bitten off too much, chew slowly. Sing a song and let the food fall out of your mouth. Take care of yourself.

Keep eating. Drink some water.

I’m proud of you so far! (Spoiler alert: I always will be proud of you.)

Love and light,
shalom xo


Guess Who’s Back

How does one start these things? Yeesh. A month is a long time to be away from blogging.

Hello, readers! If you’re returning, get comfortable – your seat has been waiting & warmed. If you’re new, the new passengers’ seating is located by clicking the ‘follow’ button on your right. (Just kidding. You’re welcome, follower or not.)

Since December 2015, a lot has changed. Welcome to 2016! Congrats on making it this far. Here’s a list of things you should have left & brought with you, courtesy of Nathan Zed – one of my top five favourite youtubers at the moment, and also the funniest. And smartest. And one with the best hairline. (I like him a lot.)

Quick recap of January:

  • Matric results (Confused? Look here and here.)
  • Finished uni applications!
  • DRAMA. Family, friend, internet – you name it. All of it.
  • Said goodbye to so many of my friends who started new adventures in Cape Town, the UK, Stellenbosch, Rhodes, Mafikeng, Pennsylvania, Any Other Place That Does Not Permit Me To Get To Them In Under Three Hours…
  • Got dreadlocks? Hopefully, one day they look like Tiffany Ima’s – style icon and ULTIMATE EVERYTHING. That’s her in the featured image.
  • Started uni in SA in the hopes developing my brain before the HOPEFUL OVERSEAS ADMISSIONS LETTERS COME
  • Bank card. Bank fees. Bank. Gross.
  • DID NOT BUY DOMAIN BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE $18.
  • Lived in filth, i.e. my bedroom & the couch in the lounge that I inhabited (and have since been chased away from).
  • The theme has changed! The About & Welcome pages will be changing, too, soon enough.

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My life currently consists of cards, cords, and contact lens solution.

The heatwave and drought South Africa is experiencing right now makes just about zero things easier. I’m melting, my eyeliner is melting, my ice-cream is melting, my patience is melting…things are a little crazy up in here.

Despite it all, I’m making it. My future is still a little (read: EXTREMELY) uncertain, and I’m not sure what’ll happen in the next six months. Hopefully, it involves a scholarship or two, and a flight to a colder part of the world.

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David and I have similar to-d0 lists. I, however, am without a single Apple device.

I’ll be posting on Tuesdays and Saturdays this year, and maybe a little more frequently when (a) important things are happening, or (b) a mosquito has bitten my finger and I need to move it. Both situations are applicable today.

Thanks for sticking with me, team internet! I know a handful of you personally, but the majority of you all think that I’m interesting enough to read what I have to say. I appreciate you all, and I hope that 2016 is a heck of a wave that we can all ride together. On separate boards. Mostly because I have no idea how to surf and wouldn’t want to drown you all.

love and light,
shalom

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photos from death to the stock photo here, and first covers here.

A Look Ahead – 2016 & Beyond

Aloha pals! Merry belated Christmas! I hope all of your Christmases were merry and bright, and that your gifts exceeded all of your hopes.

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I was genuinely so pleased with all the presents I got from my siblings and my mum — er, I mean Santa — and despite the craziness of the festive season and the family feud that is still ongoing, Christmas was alright.


AN UPDATE



Alright. SO 2016 is going to be a big, big year for me – and this blog.  I’m looking at moving countries for university (fingers crossed), and I’m looking at moving content – with regards to scooton.wordpress.com.

This sounds really dramatic, but all that’s happening is that I’m making a bit of a shift. I made this blog after two other blogs that I closed because “ohmyGOD Shalom why did you write like that were you like twelve???” (Yes, Shalom.You were exactly twelve, actually.) In the two years that I’ve blogged under scooton, I’ve used this blog as a space for me to document my new interests & lifestyle crazies. I don’t intend to stop – I just think that I need a fresh start (blegh, how cliche) and that my little cubby hole on the internet deserves a little more love.

What does this all mean? It means that I’m doing a little rebranding. I’m going to  do some major upgrades. It means that I’ll probably become more of a lifestyle-beauty blogger like I’ve wanted to for a while – there’s a saying that all lifestyle bloggers eventually get bitten by the beauty bug. It happened! It means that I’ll get to work on myself as a brand, and my brand as a brand – without freaking out about things that I never had time to fix. (I’ve got the time now, by some miracle!)

A massive thank you must go out to all of you who have read my inane ramblings for the two years that I’ve been sporadically posting on scooton.wordpress.com. Here’s to more years of my bitchy, ranty posts that you couldn’t get rid of if you tried. To  more pride, more winged eyeliner, more hauls-because-I-can, more music, more photographs, more black nail polish, and more of what I want my little corner of internet to be.

Thanks for sticking with me since 2013, y’all. See you in 2016 as okayshalom.com– I’m so excited to share the new site with you all.

Happy new year for next week, and have a gorgeous day! I’m feeling a lot better having wrote this post. Special thanks must go to Tash from GlitterfulThoughts for encouraging me & talking me through some big decisions last night.

I’ll see (?) you all in the new year!

Love and light,
shalom

 

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Deadlines | Re: College Apps

My final exams are on their last legs. I have three more papers, two of which are on the same day (yes, it’s alright History & Drama, you can kill me, I don’t mind), and I’m very, very excited to have it all over with.

Mostly because I need more time. For school.

I’m applying to several universities (colleges?) in both the USA and Canada, and most of my deadlines are disturbingly close to December 10th – the day one of my girls (who are we kidding) leaves for Viet-fricken-nam. There is a lot to be done in the way of essays, “why and how would your admission to XYZ University benefit the University and the world?” type questions, paying CRAZY fees just to send through a form, and hoping to all that is holy that I didn’t screw up too badly in these finals so that I can at least  have some sort of shot.

In other December news: It’s almost Christmas?

I was talking to my mom about how this year, Christmas doesn’t feel anything like it. The supermarkets started decorating late, no Christmas craft pop-up stores have opened up as of yet, and honestly, nobody is excited. My mom gave me a simple answer: “it’s because there’s no money this year.”Makes sense.

In any case, the Christmas feeling is near non-existent; the pressure of deadlines is mounting, and I think I’m going to an 18th birthday party tonight. Maybe. (Update: I’m going.)

To all of the kids completing college apps as well, good luck. May we all finish in time, write bomb ass essays, and be accepted to our RD schools with promising financial aid packages. May we not break out into hives every time we think about out upcoming student loans and the fact that we’ll all be broke until we’re 35.

love and light,
shalom


Also; thanks for the new update, WordPress! I love it.

Scoot on ~ why these shoes don’t fit anymore

So , hi.

This is a long post. Just saying.

My name is Shalom and I haven’t updated this blog in almost a month. To say I haven’t touched it would be lying, because the amount of times I’ve logged on to WordPress and typed up a draft, then realised the utter crapness of the post is crazily high. I haven’t been in Ethiopia or Lesotho or Sweden (because if I was in Sweden, believe me, YOU’D KNOW) but I have been through a lot in the past couple of months, so pardon my utter slackerage.

Good happy news though: I officially have a posting schedule! {Yay/wow/don’t care} I’ll be posting at least once every week now, and that’s not just in some vain attempt to increase traffic, because for some reason that’s been doing great all on it’s own, without me even.

On to the important stuff – well, relatively important because importance is really just relative to what’s going on in the current situation. For now, let’s all assume that we’re as dumb as I am, and place one month ago as the current current situation:

  1. I changed the theme of this here blog about 42 times.
  2. I did this to sort of match my mood but if a theme was created for every mood I had, I’m fairly certain the internet would crash.
  3. This theme makes me oddly calm so let’s go with it and avoid death of people who don’t (make me calm, that is).
  4. I do have an actual post to write, I just thought I needed to clear the air a bit.

So lately I’ve been spending a lot more time in my head, and if that adds up to insanity, I plead thoroughly guilty. And that’s okay, but not too much, because that, dear friends, results in characteristically antisocial and non-amiable behaviour which nobody ever found *too* attractive.

BUT WHO THE HELL SAID I WANTED TO BE ATTRACTIVE?

Look, nothing is wrong with being attractive, I say. I know so, so many tall, pretty, friendly, skinny blonde girls with  jealousy-creating friends and an Adonis of a boyfriend. Some of them are ridiculously happy, and that’s also totally fine. But I’ve seem to have[ (a) given myself (b) inherited, or (c) been given] these shoes that I’ve worn for so long. Have you ever had something that you’ve had for so long, that you can’t imagine not having it? That’s kind of how I feel with happiness. Not you’re-a-great-person-and-that-makes-me-happy, but rather oh-look-a-butterfly-everything-is-so-great-nothing-is-ever-the-matter-with-me-yay-love-smiles type happiness. I’m not saying that I never feel that way, but I am saying I don’t ALWAYS  feel so.

It’s like having shoes to fill. Happy shoes, if you will. These shoes that I’ve worn since eighth grade when I decided not to be bullied anymore, when I decided to be everyone’s friend. I swear, it’s not like I wasn’t friendly before, I was just not as loud and ridiculous as I tend to be sometimes. So I suppose you could say I’ve kind of grown out of those shoes. It’s quite sad. Like I said, those shoes came with friends and people who said they loved you, and really good food and a crazily brave fearlessness of sorts.

And now they’re too small.

Those people who loved you stopped, and then your friends weren’t anymore, and suddenly, you’re afraid of everything. It’s a scary thing, getting these new shoes. At least it is for me.

I’m currently at the Shoes of Life fitter. I’ve been here for months, and they still haven’t managed to find my size here. The shoemaker did say that custom orders took longer, though. How long is longer? I’m not certain in the slightest. But I do hope these new shoes come along sooner rather than later.

Though things have changed, and though I have changed, I’m not entirely different. I do still love people and things and places and life, but I do think that the years of pretending have taken their toll, so I apoplogise in advance for the melancholic zone created by such a potentially happy place.

Oh, and thank you for putting up with my metaphors.

All my love,

-Scoot xx

Cha Cha, Real Smooth

Cool things to blog about when you realise you’ve been blogging for 6 moths:

  1. THOSE TWO STRANGE AMERICAN GIRLS FROM INDIANA/WISCONSIN WHO CAME TO LIVE WITH YOU FOR A WEEK IN FEBRUARY 

Meghan and Jess are from Bethel College in Indiana and we were #MEGABLESSED to be their host family for a week of their semester abroad her in South Africa. They’re my new sisters and literally altered my future (seriously, I’m going to Bethel now) and I love and miss them to pieces.

Left to Right: Me (sassy AF), Meghan (Culos bajito), Danielle (little sister #2), Jessica (oh yeah selfie yeah), Immanuela (little sister #1)

Left to Right: Me (sassy AF), Meghan (Culos bajito), Danielle (little sister #2), Jessica (oh yeah selfie yeah), Immanuela (little sister #1)

2. THAT TIME WHEN YOU WENT TO THAT MUSIC FESTIVAL THINGY CALLED PARKLIFE AND SAW AMAZING BANDS (OH YEAH MUSIC YEAH

 

So then Shortstraw was performing 'Bikini Wearther' and then Al Bairre and Matthew Mole were just there too...

So then Shortstraw was performing ‘Bikini Weather’ and then Al Bairre and Matthew Mole were just there too…

Members from December Streets, Shortstraw, Matthew Mole and Al Bairre (gaaah)

Members from December Streets, Shortstraw, Matthew Mole and Al Bairre (gaaah)

Probably one the most brilliant experiences ever, seeing as it was my first official like music thing thing. As a consequence of this amazingness, I give you links to hear Al Bairre, Shortsraw, December Streets and Matthew Mole.

3. THAT TIME WHEN YOU REALISED THAT YOU HAD THE EVERLASTING SKINNY SECRET

I have nothing else to say on this topic. Credit: 9GAG

4. HOW AMAZING IT IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN BLOGGING FOR SIX MOTHS (jhgsfag21t376jkbekjg356*+wseu589493287`)

credit: http://www.cutestpaw.com

Thank you so much guys! I can’t wait to spam you with more of my rubbish 🙂 Remain lovely!

-Scoot xx

 

YES I’M DOING THIS POST ANYWAY

I know you’ve already seen all the damn posts that you’re going to see, but you haven’t. I’m screaming at my computer as I type this because I have a whole lot of emotions right now and most of them will result in punching things and people, and I’d rather not.

So today is Friday, and many things happen on Fridays. On Fridays I go to school, usually super early to get to the dance practice at school for the Matric Dance Committee (people who org anise the prom) and then I go to class, and eat tonnes in class, and stay confused 998% of the time in math, and then I go to English Olympiad Tutorials and then walk to the taxi rank or bus stop and take public transport home.

And today DID NOT HAVE TO BE DIFFERENT.

But it was. And I’m sure that by now, wherever you are, you’ve already seen plenty of the beautifully written Valentines Day posts featured on Freshly Pressed or some or other spot for terrific writing. Let me assure you now that this is NOT one of those places, and also that I’m writing currently without thinking to all of the one person who viewed my ramblings over the past 72 hours. No matter, there are things that need to be said, or more accurately, typed, and if I do it any faster I’m probably going to have crippled fingers through tonight’s school dance, to which I’m going because I am a member of the organizing committee, *cringe* or have a few spelling errors *DOUBLEMEGATRIPLEFIVETIMES CRINGE*. On with the nonsense:

  1. I DON’T HATE ROMANCE. I think it’s important to get this out there, because today, anyone who doesn’t really appreciate the over-commercialization of a day created by the Italian Pope Gelasius the first. He proposed to make Saint Valentine the patron of the new celebration he created to replace the Festival of Lupercalia which was held annually, and if people out there still think I’m an “Arrogant love hating little b**ch who can’t find a boyfriend in time and just hates everyone who is happy”,  they could learn to research, and that’d be great.
  2. I’m actually quite a sucker for this love thing. I’m a softie, extremely warm-hearted, and I genuinely love people. It’s my nature, and it won’t change – it cannot. I handed out people anonymous/ secret admirer roses, and some of the messages were  ” I wish you knew how much I loved you” and it was lovely. It’s all fine and dandy to be in love, and to be happy, but to be dead honest, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL THIS ROMANCE THING IS ABOUT. And maybe I’ll find out one day, but it’s not today or tomorrow, so if people would get the hell off of my case about that, that’d be great.
  3. You know what else would be great? IF PEOPLE STOPPED TELLING ME THIS “you could have had a valentine…” STORY. I BLOODY HATE IT. I’m not defined by whoever gets me a rose on a Friday morning, okay? I used to have a boyfriend. Now I don’t. Problem? I THINK NOT.

So to everyone who’s calling me and everyone who feels like this “haters”, do me a solid and don’t be around me for the next couple of hours or I’ll probably bash your face in 🙂

Happy Friday, internet users. And may the odds of finding the ring be ever in the big bang of games that is your favour.

Scoot xx

Scoot on ~ where social insecurities go to hide

So today I thought I’d write to you from my IT class. Being one out of the three people in my classroom environment filled with predominantly oestrogen, my class can be defined as territory for the brave. Okay, maybe I’m being a little exaggerative, but you need to hear me out.

As of now, I have science as my last lesson of the day and I’ve done no homework, I’m going to skip public speaking so that I can get a ride to ballet only to be told that I’m pointing my feet the wrong way and “not to worry, it’ll get better in time”, and then I’m going to get home and be swamped with homework and probably sit on the couch closest to the wireless router in my house and browse instagram, tumblr, and Facebook until my cows that I never have had the desire town come home.

But apart from all that, I have to deal with now. Right now, it is 12.29 pm GMT +2, and I am surrounded by 15 people currently (and hopefully for some or other person) equipped with otherwise shaped genitalia and RAGING HORMONES THAT I CANNOT ACTUALLY DEAL WITH.

Let me be enraged for a minute: IT IS NOT EASY TO BE THE FEMALE OBSERVER! I mean, you’re probably thinking, “Come on Scoot, it’s not that bad.” But let me tell you, THAT IT IS.

To be honest, the title of this post wasn’t planned coherently with this post but the more I write, the more it does. My IT class is full of expectation. Seriously: there are 15 boys to whom the perfect girl is fair skinned, thin, fit, fun-loving, smart, athletic and all in all, Christmas morning.

So, what does that have to do with anything? Well, once the guys are done feasting their prying eyes upon the protruding exterior of my incredibly intelligent IT teacher, they tend to look around them. And on several occasions, I’ve been told that Ashlyn and I aren’t Christmas morning. We aren’t up to scratch, not good enough.

But this is where it stops.

There are so many beautiful human beings – ale and female alike- who aren’t Christmas morning. And why would they want to be? Christmas is a capitalist ploy to extort consumers out of anything and everything in the shortest time frame possible. Maybe they’re Independence morning – loud, and over acknowledged, yet looked over at the same time. Maybe some of these people are new years day, because they bring fresh hope, yet always seem the same as the previous. Or maybe, just maybe, some of these people are nights, and don’t fit into the moulds of perfect mornings. 

But how would anybody know. Nobody ever asks.

Now, a class mostly full of penises, (in my opinion the plural of penis is actually peni but hey, whatever the English language says goes), some things are bound to appear. If you’re ashamed of your legs, then these boys will probably reassure you that you should be. It’s the way it goes sometimes.  Or, sometimes, they’ll tell you what I got told mid-2013:

What is actually wrong with you? Because I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you that supermodels have nothing on you or that you’re the hottest girl in the school, but I’ll tell you this: you have got to get over yourself. Because your body is fine and if you keep going about like the world is gonna end if you don’t transform into someone else- it’s probably going to end.”

A 16 year old boy told me this, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

There really are only so many things you can do: live, or die. Both happen, but only one is guaranteed to it’s full potential. (PS IT’S DEATH.) You have insecurities? Get them out. Because not everybody is lucky enough to be dipped into enough testosterone daily to be  reminded of why he or she shouldn’t have them.

All my love,

Scoot xx