Things in my life, I'm less proud of

Things in my life, I'm less proud of
2 September 2012

I suppose everyone has regrets and disappointments.  And let’s not forget embarrassments.  So I thought I would share mine.

It’s not really cool to admit this one, and I might receive a flogging from my musical family, but I have to be honest.  I seriously DIG Robbie Williams, or better yet, I dug him.  There, I’ve admitted it.  Yes, he’s a slightly porky pommie, who believes in ET and UFO’s, but I just think he’s awesome.  Not entirely sure why, though.  He had a couple of fabulous songs a few years ago, but the one thing that really sold me on him was his ‘Live at Knebworth DVD’.  It is incredible!  And truth be told, I only really, really like him during that period of his life.  Sadly for me, he is married now, so I’m thinking that I could be out of luck if I wanted to bag him for myself.  And he’s music’s been a bit wishy-washy of late.   I suspect it’s the whole alien thing.  Perhaps if he focused more on earthly stuff, like his career….  Just saying.

Another disappointment for me, is the fact that I never finished my Honours degree.  I did the whole 3 year degree thing at Stellenbosch University (Maties forever!!!) and then started working.  Had a “bright spark” idea that I would do my Honours through Unisa.  Well, so that didn’t really work out for me.  I registered very late for the Course, by which time, I was unable to get the textbooks that I needed and I just plain flaked and fizzled out.  Such a huge waste – not so much the lack in education (I learnt way more about Psychology when I did a stint as a bar lady after studying, than in 3 years at Varsity), as the fact that I obviously still had to pay the Student Loan back.  Bummer!

I’m sorry that my Dad never got to know and enjoy my kids.  I know he would have gone moggy over them and the kids would have adored him.  He had so much to teach them and he was a really fun person.  But this one is completely out of my control.  And is something I prefer not to dwell on.

I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt someone – intentionally or not.  I always strive to show kindness and hope I get it right.

I wish I was a bit more of a rebel at school.  Always the bloody goody-two-shoes thing with me.  In general I follow rules – I mean how boring is that!  I don’t mean to be this way, it’s just who I am.  I like order and structure and it gives me security.

I wish I still played the piano as much as I used to.  Due to my lack of practice, my technique is appalling and I’ve definitely lost a lot of my skills.  The only bonus is the fact that I’m learning all over again with Amber.  And 20 years down the line, scales still suck, but I now understand the reason for drumming them into me all of those years at school.

I’m embarrassed by the fact that I’m not all that bright and am often blissfully unaware of what goes on around me.  I’m not a fan of newspapers, so I’m not all that up to speed with current affairs.  I do watch the news occasionally and always listen to it on the radio, but I’m not all that in touch with what’s really happening out there.  I kind of know the headlines, but not so much of the inner workings and what it all really means.

I wish I was a bit more observant.  I once had a friend who lost 23kg and despite seeing her for the first time in quite a while I never noticed it.  Okay, so she had a lot of weight to lose, but I never even commented.  Does that mean that I’m only preoccupied with myself, that I live in my own little world, or that I merely have other strengths?  Please let me have other strengths.  Please, please, please!

Another huge disappointment for me is the fact that I was never crowned as Miss SA.  But perhaps I was aiming a bit low.  Miss Universe has a far nicer ring.  It’s not entirely my fault that I never won.  Firstly there’s the height issue, secondly I could never quite pull off the “all I want to achieve in my year as Miss Universe is world peace”-thing and then of course there is the fact that I never even entered in the first place.  When I was little I dreamed about being a beauty queen (lack of beauty not withstanding), almost as much as I dreamed about being a famous actress (lack of acting talent not withstanding), as well as talentend, prolific singer/songwriter (lack of talent not withstanding – luckily these dreams were very short lived.  Why by the time I was 34 I’d nearly forgotten about them altogether.  Oh, yes, and lest I forget – I am not very successful at walking in high heels.  Sure it wouldn’t make a favourable impression on the judges if I go teetering off the stage.

Every so often, heck who am I kidding, more often that you would imagine, I do re-e-e-a-a-ally dof things.  Perhaps it’s a little bit of a spatial awareness thing.  Some would call it clumsy, but I prefer not to.  Spatial awareness sounds way better.  I wish I could blame it on my mother, because I was born so prematurely, but due to the fact that I was born ten days after my due date that avenue is also closed to me.  I suppose I’ll just have to get used to flailing my arms and knocking things over – particularly in shops.  When I walk into an antique shop, the first thing I do is go straight to the counter and ask them if I can leave my handbag with them.  It’s like a weapon of mass destruction in my hands.  You know me, there I go turning around quickly, when I accidently bump a little precious and expensive ornament over.  Oops!

I am loathe to admit this one, but I think that quite possibly the sun has set on me having more babies.  Nothing would make me happier than a big fat baby or even a tiny skinny baby, but Grant has dutifully explained to me in nice words and not so nice words that this is never going to happen.  I have told him that he just mustn’t say “No” to having more babies.  I’d cope far better with the fact, if he just said “Maybe” even if he still meant “no”.  The problem is the fact that I think Grant is on to me.  I keep on saying “just one more”, but Grant has wisely realised that I’ll keep on saying “just one more” no matter how many I already have.  Drat!

Actually, who am I kidding.  I’m mostly proud of the choices that I’ve made in my life and the road those choices have taken me on.  Life is too short for regrets – corny, but true.  And if I had a second chance, I would do everything all over again.  Most days I like myself and the person I am.  There is always room for improvement and I strive to better these.  I make a conscious effort to “fix” what’s wrong with me.  And then usually, I forget again and end up just being myself.  Which is probably for the best in any way.  Now, as for embarrassments, they keep us grounded, humble and others entertained.

Which brings me back to Robbie Williams.  A few years ago he toured our wonderful country and I was willing to forfeit meals for a month to be able to see him.  Grant very eagerly volunteered to babysit rather than go.  Me-thinks he would have volunteered to babysit other people’s kids if it gave him a legitimate excuse to sit this one out.  And my word it was marvellous!  Because I didn’t have my Grantie with me (he’s quite often my brakes, and I didn’t have to worry about embarrassing him), I screamed like a banshee.  You know those old clips they play on TV of teenage girls screaming until they faint at The Beatles concerts?  Well I looked just like that, except I didn’t do the fainting thing.  Good heavens no!  If I did that, I might have missed a precious moment!  I screamed and squealed and danced and clapped and sang along – I knew all the lyrics of course.

Now I have a friend, let’s call her ‘Denny’, and she is also a huge Robbie Williams fan.  So her bright idea for the concert, was to take one of her sexiest bra’s and write her name and her cell phone number, hell, any contact details on it in permanent marker.  She was quite close to the stage and her plan, was to fling her bra at Robbie in the hopes that she would catch his attention, and then if he fancied her back, he’d be able to get hold of her.  She thought this was a fantastic idea, and to his credit, so did her husband.  He humoured her quite nicely and played along marvellously.  The only “flaw” in her plan, was the fact that ‘Denny’, is rather well endowed.  All was going swimmingly until a fellow friend chirped that if Robbie accidently caught her bra over his head, he’d be able to use it as a scrum cap and if it landed across his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of it again.

So it’s probably just as well that my bra would look more like an eye patch, and still allow him visibility with the other eye.  But jeez, I’d have to write really small to fit all my details in.