HOLIGAYS: Park Adventures

Yesterday my friends and I decided to go play in the park after lunch because we are mature young ladies who like to go crazy sometimes. We were merrily swinging watching all the children around us in awe. Now, we are not those kind of mature people who watch little children in parks in case you are wondering. But there were three children in particular who stood out from all the rest.

The first boy was probably around six or seven years old and he was playing soccer with some of the other children. My one friend decided she wanted to try and steal his soccer ball because as I said, we are very mature. So she sat waiting until the opportunity arose and then she pounced. She kicked the soccer ball away and started running with it. The poor little boy started chasing her until he retrieved his beloved possession and then he growled at her. Not once, but twice. This child solved conflict by growling at people, and his growl was bloody scary!

The second boy was probably six years old and he was seriously cheeky! He was fighting with some poor innocent people in the park about their language choice. I don’t know why, but he didn't like the fact that the people spoke Xhosa for some reason. But this isn't what made this boy stick out, what shocked me, is that this boy stole other children’s bicycles. A cute little girl and her older brother were riding their bikes around the park when he jumped in front of her, claimed her bike as his own, and started riding it around the park while the poor little girl sat and watched. He didn't even ask nicely, and he wasn't loyal to her bike, he stole any bike in the park without any thought. He was feisty little one, a hot tamale if you ask me!

The last boy was my personal favourite. He was obviously the coolest little dude to ever own this park. He liked to swear too, nothing too bad don’t worry. But when he said the s-word, my one friend shouted at him “You watch your mouth sonny”. We obviously exploded with laughter and this boy loved the attention. So he proceeded to swear to get our attention. He even took it as far and 'hitting' himself where the 'sun don’t shine' so he could call his special friend a very unattractive word. Now, we were tested here not to give him the attention he so obviously craved, but we really had to laugh at this poor child’s behaviour. 

To be fair, this is all very normal behaviour for children of their age, and I am sure I was ten thousand times worse but isn't it funny how many interesting people you find in the world? Maybe finding things to blog about in Cape Town won’t be that hard. Maybe all I have to do is step outside and some fool who will embarrass themselves so that I can prevent writing about embarrassing myself and keep my reputation in tact!

Holigays

Ah yes, school is finished and it is holiday time! It is time to let loose, have fun and live with no ragrets (no, I meant to spell it like that). Or at least that is what everyone expects you to do. But as Hannah is a lonely little rat, I shall be doing none of the above. Welcome to Hannah's HoliGAYs.

While everyone is out 'chilling in da club' I have spent the first weekend of my holidays at home, in bed. I believe this is what holidays were created for. To catch up on all the series and sleep you could possibly need. What is the point of getting all dressed up and going out into the cold judgmental world, when you could lie in bed re-watching Friends? Does that make me a loser? HELL YEAH! Do I care? HELL NO! Well actually I do and I will probably we single for the rest of my life, but at least I can recite every episode of Scrubs and I am proud of that. For those of you who say it is beautiful outside, and I am missing it, I have a window that shows me everything I need to see. Also, if is it beautiful outside, it means my mom will make me leave my warm cocoon to hang out washing and that makes me very, very sad.

So, adios all you very attractive people, I am off to make a grilled cheese and watch youtubers with way better lives than mine!

k bye.

Hot Mess

So I haven’t published a post since Saturday because my social life has been wild (wow, sometimes I make myself laugh…I have no social life, remember?). No but honestly I have been super busy but I have made time in my busy ‘catch up with my series’ time to speak to all my loyal fans out there (hah, there aren’t any, but a girl can dream).

The team after the build - I look extremely gross but you all love me anyway! (photo by Julia Darke)

Yesterday some fellow grade 11s and I went to Grassy Park to build a home with Habitat for Humanity. I have done this before, so I thought I knew what to expect, but it was completely different to my previous build. To start with, we were building an entire community which was really awesome and the people we were building with were absolutely wondrous, and then there was him…

Now, you have heard about my sexy anesthetist so by now you should understand that when there is an attractive man, I spot him. Let me just start by telling you, he was one of the most beautiful specimen I have ever seen. I ruined my chances however when I shouted that I had dibs on him while he was fairly close to me. He laughed, I died, and the wedding was planned. Now he was working on the plot opposite us doing architecture-ie, land surveying things and I was already planning our life together.  I tried to do as many badass things like throwing cement or lifting bricks so that he would think I was like Superman, but he never looked…I like to think it was so he didn’t get distracted by my beauty.

Now I didn’t know his name but he was sexy and he looked like a Ryan. But then he started driving a tractor and it was at that moment I knew he was Afrikaans, he then became Rian. Now some other girls had the idea that they had dibs on him but I set them in their places, making it very clear that Ri-Ri was mine, and that we were very happy.

Later in the day, when the heat had really got to us, we were sitting behind the house watching my babe hard at work and it was then, as I described our wedding to my friends, that I realized I am bloody crazy and there is a reason I will be single for the rest of my life. When we left the site, I was sadden that I would never see him again, but I will always find another attractive man to make up a fake romance with in order to fill the asteroid size void that is my love life.

In all seriousness, I am not actually a crazy lady, but boys if you’re ready come and get it…

A huge thank you must be said to Habitat for Humanity for the amazing, organized and fun experience. I will definitely be doing it again. Because of them, there are a lot of families who will be happier in their new community. If you would like to find out about where a build is happening near you, or make it donation you can visit http://www.habitat.org/ remember every small bit counts!

Walrus Hannah

Today was yet another embarrassing day for Hannah. But you may ask, "what’s different?" Today was the Bishops Rondebosch FNB Classic Clashes Derby Day. Bloody hell that was a mouth full. What does this mean for Hannah you may ask; well this means Hannah gets to first aid at the rugga. Well this may seem exciting to some of you, massaging the boys’ muscles and saving them and all, it isn't all that jazz. The life of a first aider is not all that glitz and glam (I don’t think anyone actually thinks it is, but YOLO). I stood from 8:00 until 13:00 and I passed out and slept for a solid five hours when I got home and awoke to pile of drool on my pillow and my cheek...I probably shouldn't have included that, but y'all are my family!

But Hannah, why was it embarrassing? Well for starters, I have to wear a bright red raincoat that literally flatters absolutely no one in the whole entire world. You can be seen from ten million miles away, which is the point, but seriously I look like a giant apple.

Now you know that awkward side step you do when you walk towards a stranger and you can’t decide which way to go? That is my signature move. Let me paint you a picture…there is a ruck, everyone clears away except for one lonely soul, you wait a few seconds to see if he will get up (meanwhile parents curse at you and tell you that you are pathetic at your job), you realize he needs help and run on, reach him only for him to jump up and say he is fine. Now you do an awkward jog off the field in shame. Or worse, you run on, he stands up and you run back, he falls down again, you run back and back and forth you go until eternity.

Then, this is my personal favourite, you run and the poor boy has been kicked where the sun don’t shine. Personally, I throw the ice pack at him and tell him to apply it to his special area, but sometimes they are in so much pain that obviously can’t do it. If you are in this situation you step back and let the male first aider do it. Ain’t no way we are going to third base when I know nothing about you, sorry sucker!

Now these things are all made three thousand times worse when Super Sport is there filming it for T.V and every single old boy and Southern Suburbs girl is clogging up the field, with their beady eyes on you.. Now thousands of more people can see me awkwardly run onto the red with arms flapping like a bloody walrus. My life is the definition of perfection, right? Oh shoot me right now!

No more Sunshine

To follow with the depressing theme of cats and birthdays, I have a new story for you all. Now cast your minds back to an awkward grade 6 poggel of a Hannah. Depressing enough, isn’t it? Well things naturally went terribly badly on my 12^th birthday.

A few days before my birthday, I was having a casual sleepover with my biff Kirstin. We did all the normal things like play ‘school school’ and write songs for our band. Get this, I was Sarah and she was Jessica and our surname was Parker. Yep, our band was Sarah Jessica Parker. Anyway we were super excited because the next day we were off on an adventure. We had Girl Guide Camp (you may say we were losers, but we were cool and now we know how to do a fisherman’s knot) and we were bloody excited! The next morning though, we were introduced to a something way more exciting – kittens! When I heard little tiny meows I knew there were kittens somewhere in the house, but I didn’t expect them from my alleged male ginger named Tiger (his/her name was later changed to Tiger Lily). To make it like a treasure hunt, we couldn’t find the stupid kittens in my mess of a room. We later found the kittens in my sister’s cupboard. Kirstin and I were late for camp but it was well worth it!

A few days later, to the entire families surprise, Tiger’s sister Jelly gave birth to more kittens. Jelly however, was the neighborhood slut and she couldn’t be bothered with taking care of her babies. She left them and returned to her normal life. I, being super smart, took the kittens and put them with Tiger in the hopes she would take care of them. But sadly, Tiger refused to care for one very special kitten, a pure black one, that I named Sunshine. She kept moving the kitten away from the rest because she knew she wouldn’t survive. I then took Sunshine as my own. I bought a bottle, the right ingredients for milk and fed the kitten all through the night (jokes, I slept while my mom did all the work).

And then it was my birthday; the most wonderful time of the year. The time when Hannah shines! I LOVE birthdays. I had been blessed with kittens and life was looking up. I remember my mom had friends over for church or something so, being the cave rat that I am, I was hiding from them in my room. I was on my phone #chatterbox when I decided to feed my little Sunshine, only he was cold and stiff and very un-sunshine like. I don’t know why, but I picked the obviously dead cat up, walked into the lounge and told everyone the cat was dead.

While I thought for a very long time that the kitten was buried sensibly, my brother told me later that he popped Sunshine in a shoebox and threw it away. To be honest, I don’t blame them, Tiger and Jelly were very young and basically all the kittens passed away sadly and our garden was terribly small. I still would have found a better way to lay the cats to rest.

Now all you rats out there who think you are bloody PETA ambassadors, don’t come and tell me when should have neutered the cats because we brought cats into the world that had a bad life and we are the reason there are stray cats with no homes and blah blah blah. First things first, our cats were family and we loved them very much and it broke our heart that they died so no; we weren’t animal abusers or anything like that. Sorry, one has to cover their ground because you say one wrong thing on the Internet and you have death threats from trolls saying ‘you are what is wrong with the world’.  

Oh Honey

Every year I take part in my school’s house plays. I really love it, but every year I am stuck with a terrible role. Three years ago I was a peasant cleaner, two years ago I was a school girl that morphed into a super fly body guard (two for one special, way to say resourceful) and last year a played a man…it was Harvey Specter who is sent from heaven, but I was a man. However, my luck looked up this year, when I got the role of bloody Winnie the Pooh.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved playing a giant, fat yellow bear who loves eating. Sounds just like me right? To be fair, the producers made the right decision and I actually enjoyed being involved in the play, but playing Pooh Bear was not Hannah in her prime. I am not an optimistic and happy person which Winnie is. I am sarcastic and obnoxious and frankly, often rude. This is why getting the role of Pooh came as a shock to me.

But just you wait; Karma is hiding in the background to make life even better for dear old Hannah. My costume was superb. It was far too tight around my boobs and it gave me, how do I put this nicely? A CAMEL TOE. I had to stand on stage, in front of hundreds of people (jokes only 5 people come to house plays) with a camel toe the size of freaking Mars. I kept spotting people I knew in the audience and thinking ‘I have lost any respect I have every earned for myself. You might as well die right here on stage’ oh it was marvelous.

Then bloody Karma strikes again. Every second line out of my mouth was about how much I loved food and eating it (well duh, what else does one do with food?). Perfection, I was dressed in a yellow onesies with a camel toe and praising the gods of pizza and bacon. If I ever thought I would get a boyfriend, all hope was finally lost! As per usual, Bleby ended the night winning basically nothing and I went home with my tail between my legs. The next day teachers were saying they loved my performance and girls I had never met were high-fiving me in the corridors. While I wish I could say this made me feel good, I was simply embarrassed. Imagine my English teacher marking a test and chuckling as they remember me wearing a yellow, camel toe bearing onesie, how perfect?

All jokes aside, I really love Bleby and the entire cast and crew from house plays. Bleby actually won the award for best set design and costumes so GO TEAM! The director and producer were amazing and so was the play. I am just a brat and super dramatic! What can I say? 

Larry

On 8 May, the day before my birthday, I was treated to the best birthday present a girl could ever ask for…surgery. I had a cyst in my jaw and some horrible and wicked wisdom teeth that had to be yanked out. Of course, this was the only day I could have to surgery because I am a difficult and stupid person. It was fine though, my mom checked me into the hospital, and then left me all alone while she went back to work. Thank the pope the gift store had a wondrous range of magazines…oh wait, they didn’t, they had absolutely NONE. I was stuck with a stupid book about an old lady falling in love, a snoring neighbour and an exceedingly high patient down the hall who they thankfully sent home fairly soon into my visit. To make my life absolutely wonderful, my phone died two hours before I had the surgery.

Once I had been wheeled into the operating ward, I had to lay all by my lonesome for thirty minutes, and I am not going to lie, I missed my snoring neighbour. My life seemed as though it couldn’t get any worse, then I saw him. Possibly the most attractive man in navy scrubs walking around with charts and those kinds of doctor-ie things. When he started walking towards me, I wanted to die. I was wearing a thin gown with no bra, I had bed hair, and I had a poo tooth stinking up my mouth. It turns out, he was my anesthetist. He wheeled me into the operating room and asked me to slide onto the very cold operating bed. He then untied my gown so I ‘wouldn’t choke’. Oh, save me, I could have died. He asked me how old I was and I said “I turn 17 tomorrow”, well I must have looked like an immature little rat face. We then spent half an hour getting to know each other while he poked me in every part of my arm looking for a useful vein. Once he had finally found one, I floated off to sleep. I am not going to lie – it was once of the best feelings in my life.

Now this is where the really cringe worthy stuff begins! When I came around, I was seeing double which was really frustrating. I told Dr. Steamy what was happening and he told me he had put some eye drops in while I was sleeping and that my vision would come back to normal soon. I then said, “well you are beautiful no matter what, and now I can see double of you.” Well I think you can understand why he backed away slowly and never returned. I was going on and on about my birthday and all the cake I was going to get when I heard the nurses trying to wake up the patient next to. Because drugged Hannah obviously thinks she is bloody Superman, I started yelling, at the top of my lungs “LARRY, LARRY, LARRY WAAAAAAAAAKE UP”. The nurses tried desperately to tell me to be quiet but I just kept on going. They wheeled me back to my room as fast as possible.

My mom was trying to help me get dressed and she was annoying me, so I banished her from my room because I was 100% fine. When she left, I tried to stand up and fell straight on my face. Thank goodness the pain killers were fairly strong and I didn’t feel a thing.

I got home, expecting to relax before my birthday, but no, that couldn’t happen. Our house was greeted with three frogs that only I was brave enough to capture. Try and image a drugged Hannah wailing around the house, with a giant ice pack around her head, trying to put ice-cream tubs on tiny frogs while my mother cried like a pathetic, ratchet gremlin. Bloody perfect birthday, don’t you agree?

Mistaken Identity

My first two cats were named  Blacky and Ginger. SPOILER ALERT, Blacky was all black and Ginger was ginger. I must have been five years old – and these cats were my life. Looking back, I may have smothered the poor animals a bit too much, which left me alone with Ginger after Blacky fled the scene that was the Crocker Household. Anyway life went on, I quickly forgot all about Blacky, and poured all of my love into Ginger.

We then moved houses. This worried me because I thought Ginger would run away. My mother dearest assured me that if she locked Ginger up and put some butter on his paws (apparently they lick their paws and they taste the floor and they know their new home and blah blah blah) that there was no chance Ginger would run away. We put Ginger in the granny flat in the garden and left him there while I was at school. When I came home however, the window was open and alas, Ginger was gone…My mother didn't hear the end of it; I claimed it was the most traumatic experience of my life (I may have overreacted a tad).

Shortly after ‘the incident’ my mom was fetching the mail when she saw a squashed ginger cat in the gutter with its eyes bulging out. While my mom tried her best to break the news to be slowly, my brother found great joy in tormenting me about it. I put on my big girl pants and planned a classy and beautiful funeral for the remains of Ginger and we buried him in the garden.

Being the loving and caring girl that I was, I quickly forgot the memories of Ginger and moved on with my exciting and glamorous life as a 7 year old. Ginger and Blacky were long forgotten to me. Until 6 months later, while I was sitting in the bath. I heard my mom screaming as she walked through the front door and being the amazing daughter that I am, I dismissed her cries and carried on relaxing, it was my ‘me’ time right? It was only when I had gotten dressed after my bath that I found my mom, in the lounge, with Ginger on her lap. Typical Crocker Family, they buried someone else’s cat! Somewhere out there, a family was searching for their beloved cat that was stuck in a shallow grave in my garden...

Ginger stayed around for a few days and then went back to his life as street cat. As for me, I persuaded my mom to get me a new cat the following year and lived happily ever after! Jokes, she had three legs and my friends and family teased me endlessly and called her Tripod but that’s a story for another time!

Happy Father's Day

I said that I was stepping out of my shell and doing something new - and this is definitely something new for me. I am going to talk about my Father's Day which is something I never do, ever.

Happy Father's Day to the most loving, caring and beautiful father a girl could ask for. I miss you more and more everyday, but I love you more and more everyday and I find great peace in knowing I will see you again in heaven one day. I find great peace in knowing I have the best angel watching over me.

I usually pretend I have a dad when people ask me because I hate the look of pity and guilt they get when they find out my dad is dead, but I am going to stop hiding him from the world. It is normal for people to react in that way, and it isn't their fault, but I need to learn to share with people what losing him was like and how living without a dad is for me.

In the meantime, I have a super strong and grounded mom, an amazing brother who took over as the man of the house and takes care of everyone in the family, and a talented and inspiring sister who I get to watch over, and until I see you in heaven Dad, that will be enough.

I didn't intend for this to sound so sappy, but hey, I guess that I am sappy. So happy Father's Day Dad!

Love you lots Dad, your Hannah Pie

Turtle Hannah

This is me, stepping out of my shell and doing something completely bizarre! If you know me personally, you'll know I am loud, confident and out-spoken, but this is something freakishly scary for me. I am always the person who enjoys people fighting in the comment bar under blogs and articles, and yet here I am, offering myself up to criticism and all that jazz! But I am doing it anyway, even though I am so scared of how people are going to react.

I honestly have no idea what I am going to write about on this blog. I know I should probably have some kind of an idea before I start, but here I am, throwing myself in the deep end. Hopefully the people reading this will enjoy what I have to say, and support me. 

If you like something, or have something positive to say, please comment! If you have something negative to say however, please leave and don't say anything or I will be forced to cry myself to sleep. I won't really, but I feel the need to say this so that you feel bad for you foolish ways.

I don't know how long these things should be, I am channeling my inner Zoella, but I am going to end this here. k bye.