So proud of my boys

I know every mom thinks her boys are the best, but just so you know, mine really are.

I think today Daniel finally finished celebrating his birthday - his birthday which was on 17 June, nearly two weeks ago. He had his birthday ring at school today, which I am now devastated I didn't attend (it would have been worth going to Samrand and back twice in one day). They seem to have a whole big birthday ritual - something far bigger than I would have expected from his somewhat reserved teacher.

They get to choose a song for the group to sing, one for each year. So he got to choose five songs. The first song he chose? Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika. His second song? Waving the Flag - the K'Naan song for the World Cup.

I baked cupcakes, and he got to give the five cakes with candles to his five best friends. His first choice? His little brother, who is attending his school for the holidays (and thereby hangs a very long tale).

Matthew, on the other hand, paid his brother the biggest form of Matthew compliment. Each of Daniel's friends got to make him a wish for his birthday, and Matthew wished him a lion, complete with big growl. Gotta love brother love...

I would love to list all their awesomenesses - in fact I probably should somewhere, so that I don't forget these moments when they're all grown up and I need to make a speech at a wedding or a 21st. But I will tell you now, that I know of no other five year old who knows what the word 'suffocate' means, and how to use it, or any other child who loves and understands the 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky - and has done since he was three. I know of no other two year old that eats with a knife and fork, and resists any attempt to help him do it. This is the child that we thought would be our thug but he's just as soft as his big brother, although far more independent, and unrelenting once he has decided what he wants to wear for the day. They are both so very affectionate, and although sometimes I feel like I've been mistaken for a jungle gym, there is nothing that comes close to being loved by your two totally amazing sons.

I love my boys, so very, very much. More than words could possibly say - and I'm not one to run out of words...

SAA is apparently getting its s...stuff together.

So, thanks to my fabulous husband and fabulous friends, Matthew and I joined Brett and Daniel at St Francis this weekend just past. How beautiful is that part of the world? I have thoughts on the canals, but will post those up another time, in another mood.

This post is to offer a bouquet to SAA and to ACSA, although I might just have to take the ACSA one back as soon as I've dished it out.

My mom dropped us off at the airport - me, a toddler, a suitcase, and a car seat. Having no idea which level we were supposed to come out on, I was wondering around a little aimlessly looking remarkably like a tourist. A few people even asked me where I was from - that's how dof I looked. I didn't want to do the escalator-trolley thing with Matthew perched on top, and was looking for a lift or something, I'm not sure what. Anyway, next thing, a porter comes up to me, and offers to do the trolley-escalator thing - which he did all the way from the parking garage to the check-in desk. No tip asked for or expected.

Then, when we checked in with our Voyager Miles-purchased tickets, they upgraded us to business class, sommer off their own bat. My son, the two-year old, and his first flying experience was business class... Don't think the business people were too impressed, but the FIFA referees that surrounded us thought he was very cute.

Anyway, on landing in Port Elizabeth, I waited and waited and waited for the car seat to come through. All the other fragile luggage had already been and gone, and eventually I went to the baggage queries desk. Where I suppose I should have gone earlier, instead of standing around like a fool for half an hour. Anyway, I digress.

The woman behind the counter was friendly and patient with the non-English-speaking travellers ahead of me, and she treated me with the same grace and respect. She looked up my luggage slips, and took a detailed description of the car seat. While I and Brett (in varying degrees) were stressing about not being able to strap Matthew into a proper car seat for the more than hour-long trip to St Francis.

Next thing - out comes a car seat, FAR nicer than ours, for us to use until ours came to light. No charge, no papers to sign, just a request to return it to our departure airport when we were done with it.

She took our address in St Francis and by 9h00 the next morning, our own carseat was delivered, and the SAA one collected. Was quite sad to see it go, actually...

Now - why do I want to withdraw the ACSA bouquet? On returning to Jozi via George, we were told our luggage was on Carousel 8. So the whole flight stood there for about half an hour, waiting like fools watching the same two bags go around and around. Then one bright spark took a look over to a few of the other carousels - and saw our luggage, having a pleasant trip around Carousel 3 - clearly marked for the Bloemfontein flight. And our confusion didn't even make it to the announcements, which were discussing a similar confusion with two other carousels!

So - shot to SAA for being truly world class - just like most of the rest of the World Cup stuff I've seen. Pity ACSA can't keep up with them...

PS What really tickled me was that EVERY SAA aircraft had "GO BAFANA" stencilled onto the body of the aircraft, just under the cockpit. Cool, hey?

Sex and the City 2 - why you shouldn't waste nearly three hours of your life

Last night, I attended the South African premiere of Sex and the City 2, courtesy of HP, who are one of the sponsors of the movie. They and their co-sponsors did an awesome job of transforming Hyde Park into a New York vibe, although us plebs were decidedly miffed that only the fashionably fabulous folk got into the Moet lounge... but let's not be petty here, it was a free movie.

I'll maybe blog about the event itself later, but for now, here are my thoughts on the movie.

I've been a Sarah Jessica Parker fan since LA Story (which is still one of my favourite movies in the history of ever), and although I didn't watch every episode of the Sex and the City TV series, I really enjoyed the ones that I did see. The first movie was a chick flick of note, but it was still fun, and oh my word, that Vivienne Westwood dress...

But the second movie is proof that too much of a good thing is, well, really appalling. The movie drags on for close on two hours and 45 minutes - it might have been more bearable if they'd contained themselves to an hour and 20. But clearly Abu Dhabi threw billions at them to create a suitably glamourous ad for the emirate, so they needed to stretch it out. A lot. Every time I thought it might be heading for a wrap, it sashayed off into another extended orgy of self-indulgence... or should that be sponsor-indulgence?

The plot line was more diaphanous than Carrie's curious outfit that she wore to sing karaoke (yes, apparently karaoke is tired in New York, but it's alive and well in Abu Dhabi), but what was strong all the way through was the American disdain for cultures other than theirs. It's no wonder Islam has such a problem with our friends across the water - judging by the oohs and ahs from the young women in the audience, these careless ignorant creatures are role models for an impressionable audience.

The Samantha character is really longer in the tooth than anything I've ever seen, although to give the scriptwriters credit, they do point this out a few times. She really is everything that I aspire not to be in a woman, and then some. Describing her as a slut isn't strong enough, and I'm sure respectable whores are offended by her behaviour - so I think you get my meaning?

What the movie does excel at, is at providing a showcase for a vast array of fashion and fabulous shoes. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the parts of the movie that weren't dragged out to show off Abu Dhabi, were dragged out purely to give the four friends more opportunities to wear different clothes - or the fashion houses more time to show off their wares. The fashions were interesting, colourful, exciting and intriguing, and there was probably a wardrobe full of clothes that I would happily embraced.

I totally get that this kind of movie is all about escapism, about seeing how the rich and (in)famous live. I get that fashion is a multi-billion dollar industry, and that women need role models to follow, icons to inspire them.

However, Samantha is the furthest thing from a role model that there is, Charlotte is pathetic, Miranda is clearly only there to show off the clothes that no-one else will wear, and Carrie really should get it that she's onto a good thing with Big.

As an entertainment experience, it left me stone cold, and wishing there was enough light to read my new books from Exclusives Books that were huddling in sheer horror, under my chair.

About tweetups, strangers, and making a difference: the #TBD

So a while ago I started following a prolific tweeter on Twitter: @MelanieMinnaar. She always has interesting things to say, or funny things, or really thought provoking things. One day, I'd really like to meet the person behind the avatar... and the Twitter Blanket Drive, or #TBD is just one of those reasons.

She started a Thing, it seems, in the #TBD - South Africa's first national tweet-up, which is all about the people in South Africa's twitterverse meeting up to chat, and to give something warm over to charity.

I know the logistics that go into organising a coffee date for a few people who you've known for years- so you can imagine the logistics that go into planning a nationwide event for a bunch of people you've never met... And one doesn't usually get media partners for a coffee date...

She's had some great help from all sorts of people - just another instance that makes me proud to be South African: when there's something good to be done, the good folks just get up and do it, and they make it happen. Big ups to all of you.

Anyway - the short and skinny of it is that the first #TBD national tweet-up is this Saturday, 29 May 2010. We're going away this weekend, to a fishing lodge thaaaaat side of Machadodorp, so I won't be attending (much to my disappointment), but if you're keen to participate, here is more information about the #TBD. And no, you don't have to be active on Twitter to participate - you just need to want to meet some interesting people, and to want to warm up someone less fortunate than you.

*For those not on Twitter - don't be alarmed at phrases like twitterverse and tweet-up. I too think they're corny, but in a pat-on-the-head-it-s-cute kind of way...

Ten things I've learned about corporate life

So, in this post, I had a lot of bad things to say about my decision to move jobs. I must be honest, there are still some things that I am completely pissed off about, but here are a few things I've learned in the last three weeks, that have tempered my anger. Just a little bit.

(For the record, I am not by nature an angry person. I'm usually one of those irritatingly glass-half-full people, even when there's no wine on the table to make the glass full, and not half-full).

1. There's a lot to be said for bonding with your new team mates over a good lunch and a glass of wine. Well, a half glass. I seem to have become a cheap date. 
2. There's a rather significant measure of satisfaction to be had from standing your ground in a verbal war with a very very big company... and winning. 
3. Things are never as simple as they seem. I am learning a lot about the science behind fires. Not because we've had one, but because some of our products are sold on the basis that they limit the spreading of fires. 
4. On the days that the freeway is uneventful, it's great. Last Thursday, it was vile. Completely, totally vile. I took an unplanned for, unasked for and unenjoyable trip through Buccleugh and various other suburbs, in a futile attempt to ratrun around the shmangle on the freeway. 
5. I miss Dorothy and her regular supply of beverages. 
6. It's really great having people around to chat to. 
7. Not having to account for every hour actually means that I get more work done. Strange, I know - but the whole timesheet vibe just freaked me out totally. 
8. The corporate vibe seems to be more about finding reasons why things can't be done, than why they can be. Especially if you work in the IT department, and you're STILL holding onto the excuse that bandwidth is the problem. No. It is the solution... 
9. Working for a company that's big enough to create a vibe about an event like the World Cup is great. Working for a very small company in an area that doesn't allow signage on the road means that you don't get to commission any public displays of affection for your flag (we're doing a 30m one along the N1...) 
10. When applying for and accepting a new job offer, don't let the lazy HR person fob you off with vagueness in any form. I have learned this the hard way (the same hard way that we bought our house, but that's a blogpost for another day), and will never fall for this one again. 

So, each day I hop onto the freeway, and look forward to the stuff I'm going to be doing that day. Because although I am angry about the way I've been treated on entering the company, I can see that there's great opportunity here for me to achieve some great stuff. Although I'm not even going to TRY and tackle the revolting IT department (their lords and masters are in Paris) about the ridiculousness of us using Office 2003...

No more Mr Nice Guy

 I’m always the one who smiles sweetly, asks for things politely, and understands when people can’t make it for a meeting. I’m always the gentle one who smoothes things over, calms things down, and that blindly accepts that there are greater forces out there.

I don’t like swearing online, in case my mother reads this, but I’m going to say it: Fuck that for a game of soldiers. I am done with being a doormat.

If you arrange to meet with me, it is rude for you not to pitch. It is disrespectful of me, my time and the help I want to give you for you just not show your face at the time and place that we agree on, together. It is unacceptable for you not to send me a message of some sort that you will not be able to attend our meeting, if indeed you have been held up by a logistical nightmare.

By disrespecting my time, you are preventing me from doing my job. I don’t care who you are – we are both human beings, who should respect one another, and the time that we would like committed to our common cause.

It’s not for nothing that I have been given the Wooden Spoon award, even if it was in jest. I am happy, and committed now, to earning it in earnest.

Enough already. My years of practice at the DBS (see here) are now going to be put into good use. And yes, I’m not going to just blog about this. I am going to speak to the people (note, not person) who have shown this disrespect for me.

Corporate life so far

I left a small company to join an international corporate, and started here on 3 May. I left the Garden because I wanted/needed to earn more money, and the opportunity to do so in an international company that seems to be doing really well was appealing. 

So far, I must be honest, the experience has not been great – apart from the four half-days I worked last week. But that’s a bit of a mixed blessing, I guess.

Day 1 was induction, which was in Germiston, and lasted half a day. I wasn’t convinced – for a company that makes such a big noise about safety, the safety induction was laughable. The people that were there to answer questions couldn’t answer any of mine, but at least they could refer me to people that they thought could. Turns out, when I called them – they couldn’t.

Day 2 I reported to my site, to meet with my direct report, who informed me that she would be leaving at 12 to go on study leave for a week. She gave me a few bits and pieces to do, and set up a few meetings, but pretty much told me to do what I thought was best for the rest of the week. I thought it best to leave at 13h00 to go and jump through some more admin hoops set up by the Germiston crowd.

Day 3 was a bit of faffing here and there, reading up some stuff, and chasing my computer – the only device with which I can do anything in this company. No, you cannot connect your Macbook to our network they say, it’s not safe. WTF? Yes, we do understand that you can’t do your job, and if you try to, it will cost you your own money, but tuffies. Maybe you’ll be able to have a computer by next Wednesday, but you won’t be allowed to use it until we’ve trained you. No, we won’t set up training until you’ve got the computer, and then we’ll see…

Days 4 and 5 were a bit more interesting – spending time with the Technical team as they brainstormed Stuff. Full day on Thursday, and half day on Friday. Refer to lack of connectivity to anything, and I left at lunchtime to go home and replant my veggie garden.

The other theme through all this is a refusal to budge on the company pension fund. I already contribute a very significant amount of my earnings to an RA, but they are insisting that I contribute to the company’s provident fund. Not negotiable. If I stop or reduce my RA, I will literally lose millions in the long term. If I don’t reduce my RA, and contribute to it and to the company’s provident fund, I will be putting around 40% of my income into my retirement planning. Not a bad thing, in the long term, but the main reason I left the Garden was to take home more money.

Yes, I should have insisted on a dummy payslip a long time ago, but the HR lady kind of fobbed me off when I asked for one. And in all honesty, with the increase in my total package, I thought I would be more than covered.

Right now, it’s feeling like I made a significant mistake in leaving the Garden. Thankfully I left on very good terms. I must be honest, it is occurring to me more and more that I should phone the boss of the Garden and humbly ask if she’ll have me back.