Category Archives: paranoia


I lost my purse this weekend.

I am annoyed.

This has never happened to me before so I’m at a bit of a loss.

Ironically I periodically turn out the contents because I think I will lose it but I hadn’t done so lately so I lost more than I normally would.

  • Around 40-45 quid, normally not that much money in there but I had a paranoid turn about taxis and late nights and buying emergency food for a braai that particular day
  • A coffee shop card with all it’s stamps, validating a free coffee, probably worth up to £3.70
  • My drivers licence which I don’t even USE in the UK (Was using it for ID for something weeks ago) This costs £20 to replace and has my address printed on it but so far no joy with honest citizens
  • Random change from around the world, especially the States and a 2 pound coin with the London underground logo as a special print run
  • A series of store loyalty cards. My suspicion is at least one of them has over £20 on it.
  • Receipts for the last million places I have gone
  • Hopefully not two cinema vouchers I’d collected the week before, valid for any cinema within a certain franchise. Value at box office around £20
  • Bank and credit cards. Fortunately they don’t charge you to replace these in the UK but they aren’t that efficient about sending them immediately either so I’m literally cash poor now
  • One silver earring. (I lost the other one but I’ve been convinced I bought three of them so kept the earring in the hopes of finding the last triplet somewhere)

Probably about £100 if not more GONE in one go. They say the average handbag in the UK is valued at well over £250. When you remember people put their phones, ipads, house keys etc into them,  I can see how this is the case.

note to self: Weed out what is in your purse/bag more regularly because you never know when it may go for a walk. And don’t carry the non-essentials with when you don’t need them because they become essential when they are gone.






Filed under anecdotes, learning, modern living, paranoia, Uncategorized

Orangey Fruits

So the world has gone mad, especially Britain. This huge palava over Brexit. Whatever. The people spoke. Maybe incorrectly but they spoke so get on with it. It’s not like the country will collapse immediately and if it does it will be because of a self fulfilling prophecy due to attitude issues.

Noone stockpiled tinned food or rush ordering passports to elsewhere like South Africans did in 1994 before the referendum but after the fact hardly anyone is accepting the results with any good grace which at least most South Africans did after the vote when they realised the sky does not immediately fall down the very next day. I feel like I moved from one tin pot country with issues about what peoples rights mean to another tin pot country with issues about what peoples rights mean.

Selfishly I am more concerned about the smaller issues. I question not Brexit or Britain’s role in it but will this affect my ability to affordably buy produce from outside the UK if the pound falls too far? While this may make British produce more competitive in Britain, I’m not really that interested in brussel sprouts or wonky apples or potatoes.

I miss naartjies. I think they don’t travel well so South Africans just eat them all inside the country. An orange fruit with a very loose moist skin, large and slightly flattened with juicy sweet segments of something that is  bit like a tangerine/clementine/satsuma but is just specially naartjie flavoured and not any of the above. It is much sweeter, juicier, larger and more delectable. Instead we get these other varieties of citrus here. Undersized oranges and the random midget tangerine/satsuma/clementine things. We can never guarantee what variety or type will be in the shop as it is all seasonal to the WORLD. (And may even contain SA orange fruit but not naartjies, instead smaller more sour things the locals didn’t want to eat.) This means we have given up giving the fruit a name. In our house we just say, ‘oh, we need to buy some orangey fruit’. And then someone goes out and finds a mesh bag of any random roundish fruit because it could be any variety from anywhere.

And never a naartjie.

We just came back from a holiday. Where they served orangey fruits at every breakfast and lunch if you wanted them. Not naartjies or random round fruits.

Papaya. Lots and lots of fresh papaya.

I  forgot how much I missed papaya. Decently priced paw paw that will ripen and don’t have finger marks in them are impossible to find here.

Brexit, schemexit. I’m debating how do I move to a country that probably isn’t even in the EU but has permanently sunny skies, white sands and tropical fruits. A place where orangey fruits really are orangey…

And if I did so, how would I live? Or would a couple of coconuts, grilled fish and a hammock under the stars be enough?


Filed under news, paranoia, politics

Je Suis

So now there has been a bombing in Brussels. And Paris and many other world locations will light up in the colours of the Belgium flag tonight in solidarity for this violent action against the west.

The left wing liberals will remind us again of the deaths in Lebanon, Syria, Nigeria, East Timor etc that are not recorded or publicised.

Many in the world will weep, somewhere I presume someone will be gloating and happy.

Why I don’t know.

It’s like the argument I had with Plus One last night where he resorted to calling me some really ugly names to reinforce how annoyed he was. It did nothing useful for our relationship and I sat there wondering what deprived childhood made him think hurling really nasty insults at me changed the way I reacted to him in a positive way or was in the least bit constructive.

Likewise the terrorists and bombers. What brainwashing process makes you think inflicting pain on others will prove your strength and win your argument? Clearly the concept of catching more bees with honey is not in the handbook of a war monger.

Instead the equivalent of trying to throw sand in your eyes in the playground or poke your eyes out seems to be the way to win you over to their way of thinking.

That’s not freedom of religion or freedom of choice.

At least the Scientologists offer the possible opportunity to hob nob with a plastic faced Tom Cruise. Rhema the chance to drive a fancy car on the church if you are high enough on the food chain.

Of course religion should be about enlightenment, feeding the soul, a glorious afterlife. But of course, in this day and age of instant gratification, creature comforts within the hope of salvation also go a far way!

*No fundamentalists were harmed in the writing of this piece. Freedom of religion, and the freedom to safely practice those beliefs without harm inflicted upon those around you or yourself should be a basic human right in this, the 21st century, hundreds of years later than the first Crusades. Something I know a lot of people who are supposedly of the same belief system as these terrorists would agree with me on.


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Filed under anecdote, modern living, news, paranoia, Relationships, religion

I am a worrier

I wish I was one of those people who lived blissfully calmly through life’s ups and downs. I am just not one of those people. I’m one of those people who leaves for work then spends the next four hours worrying I forgot to lock the door behind me. I have actually gone back and CHECKED halfway to work whether it was locked.

I stressed once the fridge door was open when I went away for a weekend.

The only thing that saves me from dying of an early heart attack (although this could still happen) is that I am also extremely forgetful. It’s like early onset dementia. I watched a movie yesterday I saw on the big screen not even a year ago. I swear I’d never seen it before but plus one rather irately pointed out he’d paid for tickets to take me to see it. Whatever. It was a revelation for me plot wise. I went with the BBC Sherlock Holmes quote that I didn’t have the time and energy to keep useless stuff in my head so something had to depart.

Currently I worry I fluffed a job interview as I was a bit wishy washy so he wants to stay in touch  but didn’t convert to an offer.

I worry that I will not get further interviews.

Or that I will and have to lie about going to them.

That I have been offered within my company to change teams which I dearly want.

But that if I do I will have to work longer hours.

But if I don’t that I will die of boredom.

It must be interesting to be one of those people who just lives and doesn’t over think things.


Filed under memories, paranoia, social

The Problem with Insurance

I landed up in a bit of a spat with my previous travel insurance provider. They kindly debited me renewed annual cover without telling me. To be fair, they presumably wrote to me but after refusing to move house for over five years, I seem to be migrating like a disturbed bison across the landscape of the city on a yearly basis (I blame plus one for this as I was far more ‘settled’ before him) and I missed the mail notification.

Who USES snail mail anyway? They refused to send me paper copies of my policy documents and I had to retrieve everything off the computer but they chose to POST the auto renewal notification?

I landed up trying to cancel it. There was a dodgy clause implying if I had seen a doctor or been near a hospital at all in the last year, they may exclude any treatments abroad that COULD be related to the reason I was near the hospital in the first place. In my previous experience this means if you go see someone because you sprained your wrist, insurance writes off your entire arm regardless of the fact that the doctor has now deemed you have a growth in your elbow or something, the ‘wrist injury may have been a side effect of the growth’ blah blah blah…

Acquiring a new policy proved harder than one would expect. You have to read the fine print on what is excluded. Plus one has been dying to go paragliding, despite the fact that I have a terrible fear of heights and I’d be swept off the ground on the equivalent of a huge kite with no string to ground me. This is not covered by travel insurance. (I ignored this exclusion because he has run out of money to try bully me into this activity, thank goodness.)

More importantly, one policy stated that ‘it is an unnecessary luxury used by doctors to rip off tourists that you should go to a private clinic. Our policy clearly states you will go to a public hospital where facilities and quality of care are more than adequate and often better than what you will find at a place recommended by a hotel to fleece travellers.’


That probably is true in most of the first world. It is even true in some parts of the second and third world. But I am still offended that you think I have no choice in this and that if I was hit by a bus you would move me bleeding to a public facility so that I’m not being ripped off as a tourist?!

The fact is, if it was something minor, I’d probably just pay and not bother claim, which I have done once before in search of antibiotics for a tummy bug in South East Asia.

But if it was serious, I’d like to think my health came above someone’s bottom line.

The most I could eventually find were policies stating they kept the right to move you to a hospital of their own choosing and any claims above £500 would have to be preapproved. (Not sure who does this and how if you are unconscious)

We buy insurance for peace of mind. After reading about four or five of these policies, I felt sick in my stomach. Talk about deterrents to leaving home.


Filed under paranoia, travel