Humbling.

I look like a smurf. Some colleagues and I went to the Guild Cottage. It is a safe haven for children between the ages of 5 and 15 who have been sexually abused and traumatised. They are mixed races of boys and girls and it is just heart breaking. We never got to meet the kids as they were at school plus their trust has been broken by adults and we were told they can be quite aggressive. We were told that they are in desperate need for the boys rooms to be painted. We brought along light blue paint and painted the corridor and boys rooms. I am high from the fumes of paint and turps. I look like a smurf because the walls and I are having a contest to see who could have more paint on them. Apparently, blue is my colour. Go figure!

We got to have a look around the premises and it is beautiful. I like to think that the children who live here are somewhat lucky to be in a safe environment. Even though we didn't get to meet the children, we saw lots of photo's on the wall. I was amazed at their bright, cheerful faces. You would never know by looking at the photo's. Isn't that so incredibly telling?
It just shows that you can never quite tell what is going on in someones world.
I feel incredibly humbled and sad. HOW can someone sexually abuse anyone, let alone a child?
A child?
I get so angry and I'm really glad to have been a part of something (even if it was small) that can change their surroundings and the world they live in.

I am, however, feeling awful. My sinus' have been really affected by yesterdays dusty wind and today's fumes. I have a dull headache and I feel exhausted.

It's Fashion Week and I am supposed to be going tonight, but I don't know if I'm up for it.
Tomorrow I'm going to the EA Games Music Festival with my "twin". That should be amazing!

I hope you have a brilliant weekend!

PS> My man is going to that European country for 14 days. 2 whole weeks. I'm bummed.

PPS> It is Michael Jackson's 50th Birthday and no one has seen him in a while. Until now. I have NO words. Oh and I find this rather ironic too, considering what I did today! I'm just saying. Ouch!

Detoxing and wind...say what?

Today is the 28th of August. The Windy month. Today has been the first bit of wind we've experienced. I'm not complaining. Thing is, my sinus' are. I am actually struggling to breathe with all the dust and muck circulating through the air. Argh!

Last night rocked. Yes it did. We drank copious amounts of shooters and transformed New Years and the birthday into one. When we "cheers-ed" we all clunk the glasses together shouting: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
It was fun for us. Not so much for the other people, after the 8th or 12th time. Odd that.
A couple of my mates are going on a 6 week detox of no alcohol. Where is the fun in that? Seriously.
I started thinking about this. Is it that hard?

Yes.

Oh shit. Am I an alcoholic?

Noooo.... Am I?

I have been looking back at some of my posts. Debauchery, hangovers, copious amounts of alchohol.
Crap.

Maybe I should do the detox and see how long I last? Can The Blogshell refrain from alcohol for 6 weeks?
Gulp.

That's what SHE said!!

So I am pretty much exempt of all troubles until next August. I rock. Well he does now as the Rock Legend on Guitar Hero PS2 game. Hysterical. There he was sitting in his slippers rocking out to the TV and blaming the "stupid machine" when he missed a note.
Good times.
Tonight we hit Tanza Night for some fun, drinks and birthday celebrations. Yay.

There are just some questions you don't ask men. Even I know that.
I was chatting to a mate of mine on the balcony (he's a dude) and I just couldn't help laughing my panties off. Hilarious. I was laughing so hard because it was the exact conversation the man and I had last week. Almost word for word too.
Balcony dude: So, you went back to blonde! Nice. My wife wants to go back to blonde too.
Blondie: Oh really?
Balcony dude: She's been brunette for a year and half and wants to go back.
Blondie: Well, if you are blonde and you experiment, apparently you always go back.
Balcony dude: Ja, she wanted my opinion.
Blondie: And?
Balcony Dude: Well, it was difficult. I told her she looks gorgeous as a blonde.
Blondie: Uh-oh. I bet she looked at you like, "Oh, so what? For a year and a half I've looked like a troll?"
Balcony Dude: Oh my God? Were you spying? That's exactly what she said.
Blondie: Yup...I'm afraid it's a thing us women do. It's like asking you: "Does my ass look big in this?" So, what did you say?
Balcony Dude: I said that: "My baby, you look gorgeous no matter what colour your hair is!"
Blondie: Noooo!! That's what my man said! You guys really do have a book of 'sayings' don't ya?
Balcony Dude: Ja, but who ever wrote the 'Saying's for Men' book didn't have this one covered, because she then asked me, "Well? What do you prefer?"
Blondie: Ahhahahahaha...that's what I did!! Dude!

Men...damned if they do and damned if they don't.
Moral of the story? Best you keep trying!!

PS> I felt this incredible urge to use colour in this blog. Just thought you might like to know.

I am the best girlfriend. I know!

I reckon I am the best girlfriend. I'm just saying.

I'll take on the challenge. Ha ha ha! Ok I am kidding, but I reckon I could rate up there quite highly after what I've done.

It's my mans birthday tomorrow. I have just bought him the Guitar hero for PS2. Am I not the perfect girlfriend? The modest perfect girlfriend?

Ha ha!

Oh and I've bought him slippers too cos I'm getting annoyed that he keeps using mine. Besides, fluffy slippers are so last season for guys.

"Stop wearing my slippers. Get your own."

"Baby, I only wear them when you don't!"

"But you don't give them back to me when I do need them. You do know that they're black fluffy girly slippers, right?"

"Ja and? No one will see me in them."

"Not until I Youtube you. Or post pics up on my blog."

"What blog?"

"I didn't say blog...(shit, shit, crap, crap) I said, post pics up on the bog...as in public toilets...everywhere."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"You reckon?"

Photo's to follow soon.

So yes, back to me being the best girlfriend ever. Oh and don't forget modest.

Kidding.

I am loving the fact that summer is around the corner. Yes please. Watermelon, suntan lotion, bronzed bodies, pool parties, sundowners, skirts, gladiator sandals, no jackets at night, the smell of fresh rain and jasmine, no more static shocks, no more itchy, dry skin and the definite smell of cocunut oil!

Bring it on!!

Madiba Magic

Ok seriously. I have had it. WTF is going on? I am eating healthily, I am exercising, I am taking vitamins, I am basically healthier than I have been in years and yet I have the flu again.
This is my third time now in the last 3 months.
WTF?
I have had enough. I am done. I don’t do sick and I am a lousy “sick person.”
I woke up with a sore throat yesterday morning and was immediately like, “Oh no, no, no, no!”
By 16h30, my joints were in agony, I felt weak, I had a head that felt like it might burst and waves of nausea that made my mouth fill up with saliva.
Awful. I sweated the fever and must have had over 12 hours of sleep. Restless sleep.
I feel a little better today and I’m pumping myself with flu/cold medication. I don’t think I can afford to take any more sick leave.
Enough is enough and I’m getting tough with my body now.

My mom was released from hospital yesterday (even though we don’t know what is wrong with her and we’re still waiting for the test results.)
On Saturday afternoon, my mom nearly choked on her tea. She was lying in her ward, when in walked Nelson Mandela and his wife with 4 body guards.
He had apparently been visiting a friend in ICU and decided to visit the ward down the corridor. The ward my mom happened to be in.
Madiba and his wife went up to my mom and said: “All the best!”
It’s quite incredible really. What are the chances of meeting Madiba in any circumstance?
I arrived to visit 10 minutes after he had left. Great.
“Blondie! You’re back to blonde. Oh I’m glad! You’re much better blonde!”
“Thanks Mom. How are you feeling?”
“Oh I am just fantastic. Guess who I met? Nelson Mandela!”
“What? Mom, have the nurses increased your medication?”
“No. He was here. He came to visit me.”
“Um...mom? Seriously. He came to visit you?”
“Uh-huh. Madiba and his lovely wife Graca Michel! Oh and she’s beautiful. She was wearing a white and navy dress suit, and her skin is beautiful. She’s really immaculate.”
“Mom! What are you talking about?”
“Madiba came to visit me. He had 4 body guards and everything. What a wonderful man. He was wobbling on his walking stick but he has such an aura and presence! It was amazing.”
“Nurse? Is my mom alright?” I start to whisper now, “She says Madiba came to visit her!”
Nurse: “Oh he did!”
“What?!?”
“Well, he came to visit a friend in ICU and visited this ward too. What an amazing thing.”
“See Blondie? Told you so! Here look at my cellphone. I took photos.”
“Good grief! How exactly did you do that? Um, sorry Madiba? Please hold on for 2 seconds while I get my phone out so I can take a photo of you!”
“Of course I did!”
“Mom! You amaze me!”

It’s my mom’s birthday today! Happy Happy Mom! I’m sure your test results will come back soon and the news will be a belated birthday present!
Love you lots!
x

Sigh

We're still waiting for the results. This makes me nervous.

I must admit though, sitting in my mom's ward is highly fascinating. There are people with all sorts of illnesses. Pneumonia, heart problems, head cases (sorry mom) and other weird and wonderful ailments.
There are about 4 elderly women. Elderly, as in 85- 92.
I feel so sorry for them. They are so frail and quite frankly they've lost their marbles (and teeth.)
This one woman wanders down the passage into the different wards looking for magazines that don't exist; she likes to sit at the edge of my mom's bed and excitedly tell us (over and over and over again) that she cannot wait for her trip to Hollywood. She's leaving tomorrow with her husband (apparently) and yet she has been booked into the ward for 2 weeks. She wants to teach my mom Bridge, but she can't remember the game.
It is the saddest thing ever. She also disappears. She goes walkies and the nurses are forced into a huge goose chase. My mom's room was right outside the nurses station and so the nurses actually moved my mom to a "younger" room so that they could put this little old lady in my mom's place, to keep an eye on her at all times.
Poor thing.

I went for a drink last night. I needed one. Um... yes...about that one.
Damn. I got home at 00h30, feeling tipsy and feeling as if my toes were going to fall off.
I needed a good night out with mates who make me wet myself in hyseria, who make me dance prono-dance moves and who are just so supportive!

I'm glad it's the weekend...oh and guess what? I'm over the brunette vibe. Tomorrow when visiting hours are over, I'm going to allow my locks to take a trip down memory lane and visit their childhood residency. Blondeville.

Have a good weekend x

My mom

Hospital's are relatively revolting. Clinical, white walls, horrible sterilizing smell and those super bright florescent lights. Horrible.
The hospital my mom is in, is surprisingly pleasant. Well as pleasant as a hospital can be.
The walls are colourful, there are beautiful paintings on the walls, there are lush pot plants (probably plastic but still) and it has no "hospital smell."

My mom is OK (well not really, but I'm not allowing myself to go anywhere near pessimism.) She cannot sit up or stand up from the procedure she went through, so I cleaned her face this morning and put a little bit of make-up on her this morning to make her feel better and feminine. Poor mom. My mom is a class act and just remarkable, really.
She has been admitted until Sunday (we hope) and has become a pin cushion with all the tests they are performing.

It is so weird to see my mom in hospital. She's weepy and worried and I'm used to her being the strong one, the maternal and nurturing one and yet my sister and I have taken on the role of being "mom" to not only my mom but to my dad too.

Thanks for your comments, dudes...I truly appreciate it! I have a family away from home - you rock! x

Hate Hospitals

My mom is in hospital for a Lumber Puncture. I keep saying Lumber Jack. The MRI/MIR (?) scans have come back and she's been admitted into hospital until Sunday. I found out at 2pm and can only see her after 7:30pm.

I'm thinking positively and staying strong for my mom and my family. I'm sure all will be great.

I don't feel like blogging a proper post right now.

Hope your Wednesday is fantabulous!

Bubbly and bald.

My leg hairs had protesting banners reading: "Don't harm the Rain Forest!" "Save the trees!" and others I couldn't quite make out.
My razor won.
I have lovely, silky hair-free legs...for the first time this season. Blogshell does love her extra warm coat in winter. I tried the Veet Hair Removal a while back... but that gave me a rash and didn't get rid of any hair.
The razor won once I saw the hairs on my legs looking longer than my mans. Dude!
The ring around the bath was really fabulous. Sexy!
I slapped some self "promises-not-to-go-orange" tan on my lily white, basically see-through legs and am hoping for the best!

I am also quite disturbed and rather upset at this.
This is a shallow moment alert.
I got home last night and desperately felt like a good glass of wine. It apparently got used up in cooking. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I found a mini 187ml bottle of Champagne in the bar fridge and got seriously excited!
I cracked it open and enjoyed it's bubbliness. I am however, suffering from the mother of all hangovers. I woke up with a head that felt like it had been split in half.
I took my faithful Grandpa's and am only starting to feel better.
This is not the first time either. I don't think I can drink champagne. That pained me to type the last sentence!
Dude!
*Shallow moment over*

She's back...slowly but surely!

Alright, alright...may I just start off by saying I am so sorry for the most boring blog over the last week or so...been working when most people are sleeping so my body clock has been out and I've been, well, stuffed!

So that means, I've been snappy and as interesting as a door knob.

I have also taken my "normal" lifestyle for granted. I have taken sleep for granted.

The good news...yes, go on....sit down... I.AM.BACK! Whoop whoop

I feel fantastic. Don't get me wrong... I've loved doing what I've been doing, but I am glad to have my "semi-normal" schedule back!

I had such a lovely chilled weekend- oh man - no debauchery this time *sadly* but I did get loads of sleep.

On Saturday after 12 hours of sleep (more than my body has had in 2 weeks) I got up and the man and I went to a Rib and Heineken braai. I felt like a kid again... I had more marinade on my face than in my mouth...my fingers were sticky, my chin and cheeks were covered in deliciousness and I was in my element.

I was a brat though, because I could be...I went running around with my grubby little paws and plastered BBQ marinade fingerprints...ok...handprints all over the freshly, unopened Heineken bottles and then drank wine.

Oh I amuse myself.

Like I said...I felt like a child again.

We watched the ruby, threw biltong at the referee (unfair bastard) and hoped like hell we didn't scratch the 42" screen.

Good times.

Sadly though...I was in bed by 10pm. Yes. I know.

Damn body clock.

I could not keep my eyes open. I tried stretching them open with my fingers, I tried opening them as wide as I could so that I looked like:

It wasn't a very happening look and I did not feel like coming up with some story to tell the Emergency Room at 10pm why I had had an accident with match sticks and my eyes. I'm accident prone, you see? I'm the girl who trips up stairs.

Sunday was chilly...blankets and hot chocolate chilly. I worked in the morning and then took full advantage of the weather, got back into my pajamas and sat watching E! Entertainment's Denise Richards: It's Complicated. It's ridiculous but I can't get enough and quite frankly, it makes me feel normal :-)

The Weekend Jig

The weekend has arrived and I have never been more excited! I'm literally doing "The Weekend Jig."
It's cutting edge and I'm just waiting for the right party to debut it. Move aside Macarena!
I don't have anything remarkable happening, no debauchery again (here's hoping) but I'm just glad I get to catch up on sleep and watch the Rugby tomorrow!
I am so thrilled.

I really enjoy eavesdropping. I know it shouldn't be done, but let's face it...we all love a good ear full. I find it fascinating and quite frankly it makes me feel normal.

My man took me for a sushi lunch today and there was a table next to us (as there should be in a restaurant) with 3 guys at it. They were dressed in business suits and must have been in their early 30's.
The convo went like this:
Sunglasses dude: "I really am not sure what to do with my weekend. I am supposed to be seeing Holly but Bianca is bugging me to go out with her. Maybe I should do them both."
Laptop dude hi-5's Sunglasses dude. "Why not? Awesome! Holly is hot, but Bianca has a great pair."
Brightly-coloured-tie dude: "I am supposed to be going to my mom just now at 4pm. She's finished all my washing and ironing and I need to pick it up. Where are we watching the rugby tomorrow?"
The waiter then came to take our order and I missed the rest of the conversation but I was literally gobsmacked and yet I do wonder why I am at all surprised.
Here is this guy (a grown man) in a business suit, looks like he's doing well for himself, and yet his mom is doing his washing and ironing!
DUDE!!
Do these men still exist?

Here is my to do list for the weekend:

• Catch up with sleep
• Watch the rugby at friends
• Visit the parentals
• Watch the Series channel tonight...for all the reality TV shit, I hate to admit I enjoy.
• See Surfer Girl
• Sleep
• Continue with the clearing/cleaning of the garage
• Organise my wardrobe
• Sleep

Rivetting, huh?

I personally, cannot wait!! :-)

And the new champion is....

We don't have ONE medal in the Olympics. Um...seriously?
Even Zimbabwe has medals. 3 of them.
I am so disappointed. Maybe if Rugby and Cricket were Olympic sports we'd have a chance.
Don't get me started on the politics we have in our sporting systems in this country! Argh!

I'd like to create new sports for the Olympics. Like:

• Couch Potato sports for men. You have to time how quickly you can grab a beer, the remote control, scratch your balls, lift your leg to fart and shout at the ref on TV.
• Couch Potato sports of women. A timed event to see how quickly we can paint our nails, read a glossy magazine, while E! Entertainment is on TV and chatting on the phone.
• How big a bubble you can blow with bubblegum?
• Monopoly games or Twister.
• Pillow fighting

I'd win most of these (OK, not the couch potato sports for men, let's get real.) I'd be an Olympic champion. I'd have a hero's welcome with all my Gold medals around my neck! Just call me Bling Blogshell! And the crowd goes wild....

1 more day of madness. My body is seriously pissed off with me. I forgot to invite it to the conference where we decided to work at the most ridiculous hours! It's wanting to go on strike and it's vicious. My body is in cahoots with my eyelids and my mouth, which yawns at any given moment. Dangerous moments, like when my boss walks in with clients. Good times.

Zombie Injustice

I. am. Zombie.

I should have shares in Red Bull by now. Zzzzzz.

I am getting about 3 hours, maybe 4 hours sleep a night. Zzzzz.

I have to ask something. I don't like to get too heavy on my blog. There is enough "heaviness" in the world , but I need to ask.

WHY is it that nice, good, moral and dignified people finish last?

I am so tired of this. Surely there has to be some justice in the universe.

Yet another positive and exciting post! How do I do it?

I smacked the shit...

...out of my dinner last night. What a great stress reliever! I was beating my steak with a meat tenderizer and it was going really well, until I hit the plate by mistake. I broke the edge off and sliced my finger open in the process. It's cut open on the top of my finger where my index finger bends.
Do you have any idea how irritating this is? Everytime I bend my finger I open it up again! So sore.
Oh woah is me!

Is it possible to still be recovering from the weekend? I am exhausted and with the week I have in store for myself, I am suffering. It's only Tuesday. Why is it that when you need weeks to fly by they wont.
Unfair.
I'm having a real bitch session and whinge session. I'm a complainer today. There's no real reason. I just feel like it....because I can.
I know it's really annoying to read, but tough shit. I feel like throwing a tantrum.

The man and I are trying to clear out the garage. It puts me in a mood...hmmm...maybe this has got something to do with why I'm bitching today. I can't handle seeing spiders, feeling their spider webs cling to my fingers and sneezing every 30 seconds from the dust. I can't believe how quickly our garage became so messy. It started off as: "Oh shit, we have some people coming around in 10 minutes. We need to put all these magazines and general mess somewhere....the garage...Go, go, go!!!"
It was so easy to do that, that we are now sitting with a garage full of stuff we need, but don't have place for. Ok, we don't really need stuff, but the truth is we're hoarders. Dangerous combination.
We have both decided to get big black bags and be ruthless. Admittedly, we totally suck at this, but we're getting there.
Slowly.

Wow...aren't you glad you read this post? Probably the most enlightening, positive and interesting post all day! Dude!

Debauchery...just the way I like it!

What a weekend! Is it possible for it to be chilled and debaucherous?
It was. My man was away for the weekend, working.
That meant Friday night was Girly DVD night. I curled up on the couch with 2 DVD's the man would hate. I got the Waitress, which was average and Because I Said So - cute, fun movie!
Lovely! I ate take out, drank wine and chilled.

Woman's Day on Saturday was lovely. I completely vegged out on the couch and then got a call from Special K and Director Boy. That's where it went pear shaped.
"Come to a braai at 5pm."
I did and as I walked through the door I was instantly handed a Jaegermeister. That's how it continued! We drank that new Russian Vodka Water drinks, Wawter (or however you spell it)...we then spent the rest of the night being "Viktoria" and "Tatiana", hokay?
Debauchery took on a whole new level.
Apparently it is not a good idea to drink alcohol in a Jacuzzi. Go figure! The alcohol in blood stream went on an incredible roller coaster ride, oh and the fact that Special "Viktoria" K and I finished half a bottle of Peach Schnapps.
Debauchery!
I couldn't drive, so I left my car there and Special K's man took the two of us home (wait...that sounds bad!) He was such a star and by that I don't mean porn star. Good grief.
He made us tea, which Special K spilt down the passage and in the morning I woke up to coffee, scrambled eggs and the mother of all headaches!
Charming!
I got a call from my man who had arrived home from his trip and I had the housekeys in my car...at Director Boy's house.
I finally got home to find the man lying on the grass waiting for me. Sunday was chilled. Really chilled! I-feel-sorry-for-myself-chilled. I'm-not-moving-off-this-couch-and-you-can't-make-me-chilled.

I'm working my butt off this week. It is a don't-stop-running week and I have got my six pack of Red Bulls ready!

Twin Fever

I have posted before about twins. I adore them. They fascinate me and I love the concept of identical twins! I embarrass myself generally when I see baby/toddler twins!
Anyways, with that said, what the HELL is going on with Hollywood?
Seriously!!!

It's like Twin Fever at the moment.

Let's count the parents who have twins: Julia Roberts and Danny Moder, Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Maria Cross and her husband, Dixie Chick Martie Macguire, Geena Davis and her husband, Patrick Dempsey and his wife, Dennis Quaid and his wife.
Those are the ones I know of.

Last week there was news that Rebecca Romijn and Jerry O'Connell are expecting twins and this morning there is news that Lisa Marie Presley is pregnant with twins.
WTF?

Sure, it makes sense to have two babies in one shot as an actress, celebrity etc... get it done, you know? You don't have to get your body back into shape two times, you don't have to take double the maternity leave so you're able to do more movies/TV shows/music tours etc...
I do see the perks but as far as I understand, falling pregnant with twins is not something that is extremely common. Is everyone in Hollywood on fertility treatments or maybe there's a pill on the market?
Maybe there's an infomercial for it:
Are you constantly in demand?
Do you not have time to go through the birth process twice?
Well we have the perfect solution!
Introducing Double Dose!
Simply take 2 identical tablets and you'll fall pregnant with not one, but two babies!
Money back guarantee after 9 months!
But wait....there's more!!!
If you call now, we'll throw in not one, but two nannies with their own entourage to help you out!
Call Today!

Whatever it is, it's really really odd.

Here is the pic of Hollywoods latest twins - the luckiest kids around with an almost perfect gene pool:

Sorry for TMI, but hey...whatever.

What a couple of days I've had. Goodness. I was nearly arrested yesterday and today I have spent a good few hours in the doctors room, to sort out the wonderful sensation that feels like I'm pissing a combination of rusty razor blades and shattered glass.

Let me start with yesterday. After a fairly chilled out weekend, I was driving to meet up with Twin for breakfast when I drove smack bang into a road block. Ok, I didn't literally drive into it, but you know what I mean.
Now, I still have not got my drivers license or ID book since it was stolen in my Smash and Grab. Not for the lack of trying, let me tell you, but please don't get me started on Home Affairs or the Traffic Departments.
So, there is little Blogshell driving on her merry way looking forward to a Sunday brunch of poached eggs, bacon and coffee.
Ha!
I suddenly saw the traffic and thought there was an accident up ahead but the blue flashing lights turned into a road block and I honestly shat myself. I tried the postive thoughts like:
Please don't stop me.
They're not going to stop me.
I'm going to sail straight through with a smile and a wave.
Don't stop me.
PLEASE don't stop me.
Oh My God, what if they stop me?
They won't stop me.
This went on and on and I pleaded with the universe even more desperately, the closer I edged to the front.
The Metro cop waved me on and I nearly blew kisses when I realised that he was actually waving at me to pull over. My heart sank.
My license disc has also not been attached to my window purely because I don't have a sticker-thingy so the piece of paper sits on my passenger seat.
I'm already making excuses for this ; already on a losing streak. The conversation went like this...word for word, this will be forever tattooed into my mind.
"Can I have your license please?"
"Yes, um, about that...well..um...I was smash and grabbed and it was stolen."
"Ah madam. You are not serrrious! Ah madam, but now? Show me your ID book."
"Well, that was stolen too. I can show you my passport, it's the only form of identification I have. It's in the boot of my car. I don't leave my bag lying around here anymore."
I step out, get my bag, hand him my passport.
"Ah, but now? Where is your Affidavit to prove you have a case number and that your license was stolen?"
"Huh? I wasn't given one. Didn't even think of that to be completely honest."
"Ah, you are lying! You lie to me this day!"
"I promise you right now I was smash and grabbed and I do have a valid drivers license. I got it when I was 19. I've had it for 6 years now."
"Madam, you cannot prove this! Please step out of your vehicle!"
"Why? Um..." I get out and he calls the female Metro officer over in his African language.
The woman told me she was going to search me. I couldn't believe it! My voice started to wobble and I wanted to know why.
"We have to arrest you." The male officer said.
"WHAT?? Oh. My. God! You can't arrest me! I can't have a criminal record. I'm a victim of crime! I can't be arrested!"
"We have no way of proving you own a license."
"Wait, wait...you can phone the Douglasdale police station and get my case number. You'll see I'm not lying - it's all stated there!"
He took his handcuffs off his waist belt and I saw my future flash before my eyes. Poof went my clothes; instead ugly prison outfits flashed across my eyeballs. Poof went my 2.4 children (or whatever the stat is), handsome husband, golden retriever and home in a gated community; instead I wondered if my overweight hairy sweaty prison cellmate would want to spoon at night in a teeny tiny dark and damp cell.
Eventually I managed to tell them I would personally drive over (with them if they wanted) and get the case number and Affidavit.
They agreed I could go (on my own) to the police station as long as I came back. To ensure I did they took my registration number, ID number and all the good things they needed. I was almost waiting for them to take blood; a urine sample and eyeball scan, they were so thorough!
I shat myself.
I went to the police station, got the bloody piece of paper and case number and drove back. They took my name off the system so that I wouldn't be arrested.
I wept. In the safety and "privacy" of my car of course.
I need to get my drivers license immediately!

This morning I woke up and felt like I had the mother of all pee's on board. I was absolutely bursting. Sorry for TMI, but hey...whatever.
I went to the loo, as you do, when you feel the desperate call of nature screaming at you. No gush....just a small trickle. A small but excruciating trickle. Oh. Fuck.
Bladder Infection. How? No idea.
The whole morning I kept feeling as if I was desperate to wee and dreaded going for that burning trickle to bring on a bead of cold sweat on my forehead, goosebumps and a clenched face.
I sat in the doctors rooms waiting to see the doc while I had spluttering kids with runny noses and coughs that could rival Great Danes around me.
Breathing on me.
I sat, clenched legs, wishing the doctor would hurry the fuck up. Finally I got to hop up for a urine sample and to lie on my doctors bed for her to prod and poke my kidneys and tummy.
She gave me a 2 page script (I have so many pills to take, that if you shake me;I'll rattle) and told me that one of the pills would give me instant relief.
Yes, yes, yes!!!!!!!!!
I wanted to kill. Perhaps I would have been arrested. Thank goodness we can't be arrested for our thoughts.
The queue at the Pharmacy was ridiculous and the pharmacists took their sweet time!
I needed to pee/trickle sooo badly and now I couldn't. It was making me break out in a new sweat.
I finally got through to the front and waited for the stupid pharmacist to s-l-o-w-l-y decipher my doctors handwriting...OK, well maybe she's not stupid if she can decode that and well, yes, she is a pharmacist...but seriously lady, I. am. in. pain. Hurry. up. before. I. force. feed. you. lethal. doses. of. pills.
She took 15 minutes to fill my script. No exaggeration. I watched the clock behind her head purely because if I looked directly at her I may have turned her into ashes.

I feel much better now...I'm much calmer and there's no urge to pee every 5 seconds and the passing rusty razor blades/shattered glass sensation seems to have died down too.

Note to self: Blogshell, don't have natural child birth. You will never survive the pain.

Don't talk to me...talk to my lawyer!

I am suing Veet Hair Removal. I can't really, but I followed every instruction. I bought that cream you can use in the shower. I even did the bloody test patch...who actually does that?
I do. Nothing happened. I then applied it all over my legs and waited to see if I could feel any tingling. Nothing. I blissfully shower away and after 6 minutes I started washing it off.
I have had such an allergic reaction to this stuff, my legs look as if I've been stung by a million bees. It is so sore that I can't even put pants on, so unfortunately I am wearing a dress today and having to show off my red rash.
Fuckers.
So that's the thing...I can't sue them even though I followed the instructions. How would I prove that?
Fuckers.
God it's sore!

On a lighter less painful note, I am really enjoying the sunshine we're experiencing in Joburg. It's beautiful. My right arm is actually a little tanned from all the driving I've been doing.
Hooray. I am done with winter. I've had it. If I get one more static shock I'm going to lose it. I am practically bathing in body butter yet I am so dry it is disgusting. Nice and flaky. I have had enough of drowning my lips in Elizabeth Arden's 8 hour cream and still having unkissable dry, chapped lips. Enough now! *Sorry Elizabeth Arden....*
However, when winter does eventually end I'm going to have to reveal my white-see-through skin and those comfortable clothing layers will disappear. Hmmm...although, for the first time in um, well, 25 years I've been sticking to this health regime so hopefully I'll be bikini ready. Hopefully.

I was really good. I didn't devour prawns and took a note out of your book. Clearly most of you are health bunnies! Share your secrets!! How do you do it?
I ate grilled lemon and black pepper chicken with gem squash and peas. How good am I?
*Blogshell pats herself on the back.*
This week alone I have been to boxing 3 times, tomorrow will make it 4 times.

It's the weekend peeps! I am celebrating my heritage today and I'm very excited about it! Big celebrations.
I am also really excited about this weekend...have big parties ahead and it should be scandalous and fabulous!
ENJOY!!