Monday, June 25, 2007

Weekend back off the Wagon puts me straight back on

I reckon I am going straight back to sobriety following this weekend. Maybe as much tequila as possible was not a good idea to consume on my first Friday night back off the wagon. My body went into mild shock when I shot the first one. That should have warned me.

But how else was I meant to survive Sandton and then that dark dingy over-smoked over-sexed gay bar in Melville?!

I tried to not move for the rest of the weekend.

But I had to, as a long lost mate had come to visit me for the Saturday night. I had not seen her in exactly a year. Great company I was! We sat on my couch for six hours, with me occasionally pointing out where things like the kettle or the heater were.

Somehow I had made it along the N3 & to the airport. And it was there that a quiet chunder was AGAIN necessary. Lovely.

But at least, I thought, I’m at the airport. On a Saturday evening. No chance of anyone else knowing about this.

Monday morning 8.30am I receive a call from one of my sweet quiet unassuming Zimbo colleagues: Hey Champers? What were you doing at the airport on Saturday? I thought you might have broken down or something?


The problem with seeing such a good mate, who lives between the Cape and the USA, is that it makes you realise what you are missing sometimes. Her worries of life are the same as mine, we get ranting and raving over the exact same topics. We might touch on the subject that she is engaged, and that she is now primarily based in Michigan for her PhD, but rather we talk of the strike, of the kids she is tutoring in Kayelitsha, which of these kids is so on the ball, and who has not had an Afrikaans Matric teacher for this whole year.

I am sure I’ll go into sometime this week, as it has been playing in my head, but it’s the disconnection I feel. In this town. With mates from other parts of my life. That my day is focused on the world systems that are screwed up and I search for any creative idea to remedy these, in a democratic manner. That I fall asleep to books about Somalia & Rwanda in the ‘90s, that make me dream of Ivorian kids and machetes. My daily and life focus just is not what my most private & elite of schools brought me up to spend my money on. I just don’t relate to the world into which I was born.

That I feel more comfortable heading to Rosentenville to drop of my work friend on a Friday night, than I do awhile later in a Sandton club. And that Melville is my compromise.

What I have realised, is either I have to start reading cheerier books before I fall asleep, or I have to start writing movie scripts based on these dreams!

And the time has come to sit down with the guy, and bring an end to the decade long relationship with tequila.


Anonymous said...

Dear Miss Moderation.

In ancient Greece, the temple of Apollo at Delphi bore the inscription Meden Agan - 'Nothing in excess'.

but then again,

There's nothing in the middle of the road but yellow stripes . . . and dead armadillos.

High in Dubai said...


Do not throw the tequila bottle away. You just needed to see that the sobriety has had some sort of effect... Don't just blame old tequila!

On the other note, I have an amazing friend who is so dedicated to the social uplifment of Africa and I have always been so interested in it. I have however chosen the more materialistic route rather than the one where I sacrifice my materials for the betterment of others.

I really believe that her work is making a difference, I don't think she could deal with the guilt of not being involved in that sort of work... But it is not easy, especially when trying to judge yourself against the proverbial "Jones'". I've always battled because I feel as if I am not contributing to a greater good - the only people I make richer are my directors and while having nice clothes is awesome. It is the emptiest form of fulfilment...

Champagne Heathen said...

Hello the god owner!! How've you been?
Armadillos never really have made sense to me, so them being dead does kinda work out well though I guess.

High - No. This is it. I am booting his cactus butt out the door!

I know - somehow I got this weird mindset. I hate not fitting in to my mates' worlds. Cos they are my mates, and I can see how gorgeous they are, and don't see a problem with their worlds. Rather I see fun, and laughs, and all. But I just don't feel "connected" there. As much as I have been trying to fight that feeling. I think it would be healthier to acknowledge the disconnection though, and work from there.

It's not necessarilt about having a job that deals with development & "upliftment". It's about a mindset. And you speak like you have the mindset. The system has to be changed by those within it, who know it, who gently nudge their directors to go a certain route over time...

Revolving Credit said...

Stop reading these book before going to sleep.
Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Stop feeling guilty about who you are and how you were raised.
Stop blaming tequila as it doesn't appear to be conjuring these thoughts, just helping you stare into the abyss.

Stop trying to change the whole world, just work on your corner and let the rest of the world follow suit.

Don't party to escape, party to have fun. If you regret it the following day it implies that doing it was wrong to begin with.

Maybe you just need to get laid!

When someone else is on top riding you like a pony and you're busy screaming like a bashee, I doubt you'd have time to consider the democratic impact of the machete!

Champagne Heathen said...

Rev, then get your ass up here and help a girl out!! We might have to negotiate that Pony role-playing part though.

As for the rest...I'm learning. Never was top of the class, so you just gotta give me time.

High in Dubai said...

Champers, you do make a very valid point! I guess the important thing is not deny who you and what your passions are about...

Although, I am not writing this with a straight face after Rev's last paragraph... Brilliant!

Itsnopicknick said...

"quiet chunder" - LOL!