Sunday, September 28, 2008

Birthdays. X3

Gosh I’ve been lazy. In every respect. I’ve been lazy on my blog, at work( well, ok, not with that) and even with going out. I have been the laziest this weekend. I don’t think I’ve got out of my pajama’s unless I’ve really really had to. DVD’s, take-out and not an ounce of alcohol. It’s been nice. Nice and relaxed.
I think my body has had enough. I think it’s really just gone on strike and not in the sick way, but in the “if you want to do anthing; you’re really going to have to put some effort in to move me” kind of way.
It’s a good thing because the week I have ahead is insanely busy. It starts Monday morning and only really slows down on Thursday.

I’ve decided I need new friends. I’ve told them as much, too :-)
Good grief. 3 of my closest friends are born within a few days of each other. I have a triple whammy of birthday’s, birthday cake, birthday parties and birthday presents. Seriously. Blondie 2’s birthday is on Tuesday, Special K’s birthday is on Sunday and Zob’s birthday is on the Monday.
I’ve told them that I’m “losing their numbers” until the 07 October. They think I’m kidding.
All 3 girls are so similiar and so different at the same time. To try and find 3 different birthday gifts that are thoughtful, special and unique to their personalities is a challenge and with the week I have, I’m not sure when I’m going to get this right.

I absolutely adore giving gifts. There is nothing better that putting in a lot of effort in order to find something that they will love and then watching their faces as they open up the carefully wrapped gift. It is my best!
I hardly ever give gift vouchers. I need to find something that I know they’ll adore, that will make their faces light up and will make them feel like a princess on their special day.
I love gift wrapping too. Man, you should see me at Christmas. I am insane.
There is nothing worse than putting effort in and seeing someone half heartedly look at the gift and mumble a “Thanks.”
I know a few people like that. They get gift vouchers.

The man always teases me. The only reason you like buying gifts is so that you can buy something for yourself.
What? I. do. not.
Oh yes you do. What about JB? You bought her one of those fancy handbags, whatchacallit, and you bought one for yourself too.
It’s called Nine West and that was a coincidence.
You bought Special K something last year, I can’t remember, and you bought the same thing for yourself in another colour and you always buy your sister what you would ultimately like.
Gasp! I. Don’t!
You do. Face it.

Does this make me selfish? I guess I do buy some things. SOME things that I would like, but only because I know that we’re very similiar and that she would love it too. The logic is this. If I love it; she’ll love it.
We’re friends and therefore we have a lot in common.
Good grief. Maybe I am a selfish buyer...but I DO put a lot of effort into gifts to the unique person and shopping for gifts allows me to shop with a purpose. If I had to buy these sorts of things for myself, just because, I’d feel too guilty.
Shopping for someone else allows me to look at things I ordinarily wouldn’t look at and so I get a few things for myself too. I’m there. Might as well!

Are you buying this?*

Have I convince you or myself?

*Excuse the pun. Oh I amuse myself.

PS> Note to self: Self, get your ass into the boxing gym. You’ve been slack! Enough.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Hurling Heritage Day

Oh God! I sure made up for my bitching last night. If you didn't read the previous post, I was pretty miffed out with the fact that everyone was partying up a storm and I was in bed early for a half day of work the next day. Half day, whatever. Work is work. I like to think of it as: doing my bit for the economy.

Special K, Blondie 2 and I went for a girly lunch, instead of the braai today. Let me explain.
We were supposed to have a braai with the gang, but someone had to go and get pissed last night and is hanging like a donkey on steroids.
Dude. The man is so ill and instead of being mad, I find him adorable…he reverts to a cute 8 year old boy you just want to nurse. I will never tell him this. You know why.

So, I was all super psyched for potato salad, chicken kebabs and a boerewors roll; and that craving went straight out the window. It went out the window, when I heard the man hurl his stomach contents straight down the toilet. I know this sounds bizarre and gross, but he vomits weirdly. I know there is no “right” way to vomit and I am going to sound incredibly mean, because I should be concerned, but I find it hilarious. Seriously. He makes the funniest sounds. He sounds like a combination of a hyena laughing, coughing up a fur ball and well, the general “normal” up chuck sound.
Man, it is funny. Trust me. I would say you have to be there, but that’s really sadistic isn’t it?
Can you imagine? “Hi guys, come around… you know I was telling you about the man’s weird vomiting sounds, well, I thought you should experience it first hand, so let’s feed him revolting things to make it happen. Trust me; it’s going to be the best time ever. Ever!

Anyway, I called up the gang to find out what the vibe was with having a braai. If everyone was still keen, well, sorry for vomit boy... but they all dropped like flies... all of them were hanging. Bunch of babies.
All of them, except my best girls*. Blondie 2 and Special K were still keen to do something. I left the man lying in bed curled into the foetal position, muttering the usual: “I’m never drinking again. No really. I mean it this time. Fuck I wanna die…shit, pass me the bucket…”
I asked if he wanted me to stay, but he kind of waved me off, muttering: “Kill me.” and “Have a good time!”

We met up for sushi and Cosmopolitans. Lunch with girls is never an hour or two.
6 hours later, sun setting, several Cosmo’s in and stomachs literally sore from laughing, we called it a day.
The bill showed that we had enjoyed 13 Cosmopolitans between the 3 of us. We paid the bill and it was only when we were in the car park that we suddenly realised that made no sense. How can 3 girls share 13 cosmos? They either didn’t charge us for an extra one (yeah right) or they over charged us by one (probably.)
My head is spinning and I’m feeling a little bad. What heritage did I celebrate today? I drank Cosmopolitans – for Johannesburg (work with me here) and I ate sushi for…um… well... I’m stumped.
I bought biltong on my way home. Does that count?
The man is still on the couch, watching Absolute Formula 1 and stuffing his face with biltong and Lay’s Salt and Vinegar crisps. It helps with the nausea. Apparently. He is still hanging. Insane.
It’s another early night for me. This time, I really don’t mind. Those Cosmo’s are dangerous. Deliciously dangerous.

* I sound like a pimp. Niiiice.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Work and play

So, my meetings went on a little longer than expected. Surprise, surprise!

I'm feeling absolutely exhausted and while you all party away the night before the public holiday, think of lil ol' me lying here trying to fall asleep because this "good girl" has work in the morning. God I've become boring. Seriously. What happened to "living on the edge?"
Who the hell knows? Miss Responsibilty is in bed early and I might as well just add a nice cup of warm milk and honey to the mix. Argh.
I've even switched my phone off because all my mates are reminding me that I'm 25 years old and being an old hag.

"Just come for one drink!"
"Yes, it sounds all lovely now, but while you sleep in; I'm getting up for a regular working day!"
"Blondieeeee!! Pull an all niiiighterrrr!!" It's amazing how the nagging always sounds whiney!
"Dude no. I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Braai at my place for National Braai Day and Heritage Day tomorrow afternoon!"
I've been through this with 5 of my mates.
Like I said. B-O-R-I-N-G!

I got an email from my longest mate JB about growing it is:

Soooo, her I sit, CSI: Miami (totally rocks my world) is on, my laptop is on the lap (as it should) and I'm trying to get sleepy.
Ha! The man is even out with his buddies.
I'm this close to breaking out into Akon's Chipmunkey "Lonely". You know it's bad, then.


Good start.
Nope, nothing. This warm milk and honey is starting to look more inviting by the second!

Good night.

PS> Happy Heritage Day and Braai Day!

PPS> Congratulations Danny and Lee...I'm so happy for the both of you! Thanks for your sms' over the weekend!

To be continued....

There is nothing more off putting than a man talking loudly (in public) about money. I don't know what it is, but I hate it. I think it is the unsexiest thing ever. It's normally around women too. Do you really think I'm going to be impressed? Clearly you do. Do you really think that I'm going to swoon in, flutter my eyelashes and whisper, huskily: I want to have your babies!
Argh! I was sitting having some breakfast this morning with Special K. I noticed him noticing us in his really subtle way. His friend joined him a few minutes later and they both started staring.
Um...we can see you!! Just letting you know.
All of a sudden Jerk 1 said (no, let's be fair...projected loudly) to Jerk 2: I can't handle the bank phoning me all the time! My platinum credit card is fully paid and they've wanted to add an extra few hundred thousand into my credit.
Jerk 2: Oh dude. Hate it when that happens. I just got an amazing raise and I'm wondering if I should buy the Audi TT or the new BMW.
Jerk 1: Tough choice. Buy them both!
Jerk 2: Great idea!

Fuck, I wanted to vomit. They kept looking over to see if we had heard them and to see if we we're, I don't know, gold digging bitches who would cover them like ants on cream soda.
Special K and I ignored them flat and actually moved tables. They were speaking so loud it was actually difficult to follow our own conversation.

I'll blog more just now..I have more to say, but gotta go into a meeting now. Hate it when work get's in the way of blogging! I mean seriously!

To be continued....

Monday, September 22, 2008

Schizophrenic Blondie... The comedian.

The weather is weird. It's been sunny with freezing wind. Did Mother Nature not get the memo? It's SPRING!
I must admit though, I haven't seen a crisper morning. It's beautiful. I'm sitting on my balcony looking out into the distance. The buildings and trees actually have outlines. There's no blurry haze or smog. It's lovely.

I had a seriously chilled weekend. It was awesome. Lots of braai meat and lots of wine. Sunday was couch potato day. I didn't get out of my pajama's until this morning. In fact, this weekend was so chilled, I was actually boring.
Boring was welcomed into my life with open arms. I embraced it lovingly, but I don't want it hanging around me too much.

Right so, I am interviewing a few comedians this week. Honestly, I'm dreading it. I'm dreading it because I don't know what comes over me. I'll be introduced to the comedian and I automatically become hilarious. I think so anyway. I have no idea why I do this. I am NOT a comedian and yet I suddenly start practising "material" on them. Oh my God, it's is mortifying.
I actually have screaming matches in my head.
Blondie: Shut the fuck up. You. are. not. funny. What is wrong with you?
Blogshell: Hahahahahhaha - oooh wait, let me say this. That will make them drop to the floor in hysteria.
Blondie: Oh my God! You are embarrassing yourself. Seriously. Shut up. Stop moving your tongue. Get on with it.
Blogshell to comedian: So, I have a joke for you..
Blondie interrupts: Seriously? You're not doing this! I can't take another minute of this. Pleeeease!! Stop!
Blogshell, ignoring inner voice: So, 2 snowman are walking in a field. The one snowman says to the other: Dude, you're right! I can also smell carrots! Wahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhaha!!!!
Blondie: I officially divorce myself from you.

The worst part? I kill myself laughing at my own jokes. They're horrible jokes and ironically I only ever remember the horribly BAD ones. I can't remember "cool, awesome, wow -you have-the-best-sense-of-humour-and-you're-such-a-funny-joke-teller" jokes. Noooo. I remember the horrible, cringe worthy ones.
When I say I kill myself laughing...I literally wipe away the tears.
I don't know why I do this when I can visibly see the comedians looking at me and their agents/posse nervously with the look: Did she just escape from a mental asylum?
I cringe at myself, but I am unstoppable!

Friday, September 19, 2008

Lady Luck hates my mom.

I shake my head. My poor, poor mom! I cannot get over how much bad luck she has been through. She has been poked, prodded, squashed, squeezed and everything under the sun from MRI scans, to lumber punctures, to blood tests, to ultra sounds, to CAT scans etc, you name it!
She has waited patiently and nervously for the results and she has been diagnosed with a disease that out of privacy and respect I'd rather not say on my blog.
She is on so much medication, that it scares me. No one bothered to tell her that one of the many things she's on decreases bone strength and density. My mom stepped down from a small step at home, twisted her ankle and fell. She has broken her ankle bone straight off and her leg bone, the thibea (sp?).
This is outrageous! She now has to either have an operation or she needs to lie still for 6 weeks. She cannot use crutches as a few years ago, she had an operation on her other leg and some of her cartledge was removed. We've hired her a wheelchair and I just feel so helpless!
The amazing thing? How strong my mother is, her spirits are incredibly high and I am in awe. My family has been amazing too and we have stuck together like glue through all of this.
I could not ask for a better more solid and incredible family.

I just can't believe how this has all happened to one person in a few months!

In other news, I have a headache. I don't think I'm drinking enough....water, that is. I hate water as it is. I am quite snobby when it comes to water. I reckon that if I'm going to drink the awful stuff, I might as well make it good. No tap water for me, but mineral with a slice of lemon or mint or both.
I have neither mineral water, lemon or mint lying around so there goes that idea.
My man got home on Wednesday and I've been rather busy.* Catching up in um...all departments.
We're having a get together tonight at home to catch up with everyone. I have the garlic bread and braai meat ready and lots of wine and Vawter in the fridge. Good times!

Have a brilliant weekend.

*Reason there's been a lapse in blogging.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Curly Sue

Wow. I don't know about you, but I've always wanted to sit down in a hairdressers chair to be insulted. I put it right up there with my "Fun Things To Do" List.
I couldn't go to my old faithful Jeauval as I wasn't in the area and I needed to get my hair styled for a photoshoot.
This annoying little emo freak started touching my hair as if I had lice and kept squinting at me.
"Soooo...what are we doing for you today?"
"I'd like a good blow wave with a little bit of volume please."
"Mmmm... I don't think so. I think we should do a curl."
"I really don't want a curl."
"But you look like a lovely poppie."
"Who does your hair?" Ignoring my gasp.
"Jeauval normally."
"Oooh. Your hair is in bad condition."
"I don't think so, considering it could have been a lot worse! I went from dark chocolate brown to blonde in one take and it lifted beautifully with hardly any damage."
I also know this considering I look after my locks with treatments etc...
"I can't imagine you with dark hair. Have you got a photo?"
I took out my cellphone and showed him.
"Mmmm. You look seductive with dark hair and like a bimbo with blonde."
"Wow! Are you for real? That's bloody rude."
He just smirks and starts to blow dry my hair.
I couldn't believe it. He started to curl my hair and then proceeded to tell me that he promises he wont give me curls like Patricia Lewis, comforting, but told me I have the same nose as her.
"Is that a compliment?"
"What is your problem?"
"Oh lovey, harden up."
"You shouldn't work with people."

I walked out of there feeling like shit with curly hair. Asshole.
I will never go anywhere other than my good ol' faithful Jeauval.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Wax in the City

You know it's going to be one of those days, when you drop a heavy glass ashtray on your toe. Fucking hell. The pain. I was convinced I was going to look down and find my foot left with 4 toes, or at least no toe nail and gushing royal blood (I'm still convinced my blood is blue.)
Nope. Just throbbing and swelling. Again, I'm never doing natural child birth.

Then I could not find my keys. I am one of those people who really does want to be early, but always manages to be late. Not terribly late, but late by 5 minutes or so. There are also days I surprise myself and rock up super early.
Today was one of those. I was super early to leave and therefore I'd arrive early at my appointment. All was going well until I couldn't find my car keys. I searched. I searched high, I searched low, I even searched the fridge. Don't ask.
I eventually searched my car at the weird chance I had left them in the ignition or locked them inside etc.
Not one sign of them. Shit, shit, shit!! I was now running on the late side. Where did I find the little shits? On the key ring holder by the front door. Of course I didn't look there first. Why would I possibly look there?
I could've slapped myself.

I arrived at my appointment. Yes. A shallow appointment. I had booked a pedicure and Bazilian wax. Sorry for the TMI, but this is valid.
My girl friends and I got onto the topic of "grooming down-there" and I was shocked to find out that most of them wax or shave...into little shapes!
WTF? Seriously? Who has the time? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for grooming and neatness and I do my fair share, but waxing? As in pouring hot sticky wax down there and ripping the bejesus out of, well, the you-know-what?
I got dared. So, Blondie went this morning to try the torture method out*.
OH. MY. GOD!! How did this ever become a trend and seriously, how did it ever continue?
You do realise that women CHOOSE to do this.
My crotch was literally on fire. Not a fire crotch as in Lindsay Lohan....crotch ON fire!!
Firstly is the wax supposed to be that hot? Or is it that hot that it numbs the skin?
It didn't burn me . I was surprised. Then she smiles. It was a smile that could have rivalled Mona Lisa. Was that a "oh-I-so-don't-envy-you-right-now" smile or a sympathetic smile of "I-know-what-you're-about-to-go-through" or maybe an "evil grin" smile.
Whatever smile that was, it scared the shit out of me because as she smeared the wax all over, I had this thud of realisation. 'Oh well, no going back now! Only one way to come off!'
She looks at me and says: "Don't forget to breathe. Here we go!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!" followed by a few words that made even me, blush.
We had to do that several times.
It was pleasant. You know, just a regular good time!

Well, I was wrong. My day got better. A LOT BETTER. I want 150% confirmation on some news before I pop open the champagne. Watch this space :-)

* I also thought it might not be such a bad idea of a "welcome home present" to my man. 1 more sleep.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Domesticated Goddess...disaster?

Wow! So the TV shoot was incredible. I was bloody nervous, but I loved every minute of the 13 hour shoot! I had more make-up on than a transvestite and about 17 layers of powder on top of that! It was awesome!

2 more sleeps until my man comes home. I can't wait. It's hard to explain. These past 2 weeks have been the longest ever and yet at the same time, it's flown by and haven't had a chance to do all the things I thought I would do while he's away! Odd.
Another thing I can't explain. I'm nervous. I have no idea why! I have no idea over what! I have this nervous feeling in my stomach, like a million butterflies suddenly hatched in my stomach. Can't explain it and don't really understand it myself.

My parents are coming around for dinner tonight. I haven't had them around to my place in yonks. I get to play the domesticated, look-how-grown-up-I-am role. Good times. I'm attempting to make a curry. I have no idea what I'm doing. Even with the recipe on the table. Oh good God. Why oh why? Why can't I just stick to sandwiches?
I know why. I want to impress them. Show them that I'm FINE on my own. Show them that I'm a Domesticated Goddess with ambition. Oh yes. Ambitious alright. A fucking curry.
I think something's burning...

Friday, September 12, 2008

Frosted bits

I need a nap. I'm exhausted. No rest for the wicked though. I have a hectic weekend ahead. A hectic working weekend.

Anywho, I got a call from my hilariously funny mate, Daddy Long Legs, who asked me if I had ever highlighted hair.
"How hard can it be, Blondie? Just slap on some peroxide and we're rocking and we're rolling!"
"Alrighty, but you're signing a disclaimer."
"Yup. Let me just draw one up quickly."
"Blondieeee!! Should I be nervous? This wee guinea pig doesn't need shite hair for the weekend."
"Like I said, sign the disclaimer."

So, I arrived last night, played a little bit of tennis (as you do) and once we had both put the task off for as long as we could, he eventually and very nervously showed me the Highlighting Kit he'd bought.
"Ok cool, give here! Let me read the instructions."
"Noooo. I reckon we read the instructions together!"
We empty the contents out onto his bed and I got super excited to see torture devices. A lovely sweaty cap and a sharp plastic hook for me to stick into his scalp through the small plastic holes and pluck the hair through.
He put the cap on and we (his room mate and I) asked where the swimming gala was. Because we think we're hilarious.
I then had to get every piece of hair through the cap, without missing one of the millions holes. I didn't wanna hurt him, but as a result he was worried that I was being too gentle and not getting all the hair (from the root) out.
"Puh-lease. I am a pro."
"Let's just see shall we?"
"Shoosh you. Who has the power right now?"
"Just frost them tips, will ya?"
I carry on pulling his clumps of hair through the cap and 2 hours later I get the last strand through. Dude. 2 hours? I wanted to make sure I did a good job and didn't hurt him.
Then it was the fun part, mixing the colour together and plastering it all over the tufty cap. Beautiful. We then turned him into a Roman Emperor and made a funky tinfoil hat for him.
30 minutes later, he went to rinse it off and Voila!!
Like I said. Pro.

So, I reckon if my current career doesn't work out I can always go into hair.
Any takers?

I'm exhausted. Need sleep. I can only sleep on Monday. Argh.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Good time to laugh!

I had a TV interview today with the Garden Terrorist. I had to speak about my dog etc... it was cute. I, however, was very nervous for my dog to be in a new environment with 10 other dogs. He's very friendly, but with so much stimulation and excitement, he may get protective over me.

We arrived at the studio's and all was lovely, but they asked us to be there and hour and a half before we actual went on set. I didn't know this at the time. It was a mission trying to keep him still, calm and cool from the heat.
He was extremely well behaved and I was really proud of him, but as it goes, he started getting irritable plus he was over heating. I took him outside to try and get him to drink some water and maybe go for a wee. We walked around for a while and were finally called to go onto set.
As we walked inside, The Garden Terrorist just let out the biggest diarroeah shit I have ever seen in my life. The poor dude! I felt so embarrassed and tried to get someone to hold him (all 43kgs of him) while I try and clean it up. Charming.
This guy turned around (Thank God!) and said, "Don't stress. I'll do it!"
Well, I don't know what happened to me. I was so stressed from the whole thing and suddenly seeing this guy cleaning up liquid shit was just unbelievably hysterical. I felt like a mad woman. Laughing to the point that I there was no sound coming out of my mouth, I was doubled over and tears were coming out of my eyes. It was that nervous, uncomfortable, I-don't-know-what-to-do-right-now laughter and the more I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed that I was laughing, with him cleaning it up, the more I felt like I was going to wee.
I was finished, the minute he started gagging. I wanted to die from embarrassment but the tears of laughter flowed. I must have looked like such a bitch.
I don't know why I do that. I don't know why I laugh when I'm uncomfortable. It's a horrible vicious circle.
The poor thing. He was so well behaved but had had enough by the time we got onto set that all his training and manners went out the window. The poor host (petrified of dogs) was nervous and 4 of us had to sit on a couch with 4 dogs. They all started going for each other on "Live" TV. No cuts, no "please control your animal", nothing. All "live". "Live" because it's recorded as if it's live.
Live to tape is the correct expression. Apparently.
The Garden Terrorist (G.T) kept wanting to sniff the Husky and Great Dane, who weren't too fond of their butts being smelled, so they snapped, he snapped and I had to yank 43kgs back, nearly taking the host out.
I also don't know if I answered any of her questions correctly because I was so busy trying to tame G.T. Argh.
I couldn't wait to get him home. I was just starting to feel horrible about putting the G.T in this situation. It was all for charity and this was just the publicity around it. We haven't even done the actual event. Oh. dear. God.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Garden Terrorist

I was furious and so frustrated that I resorted to tears last night. I got home from Comedy Girl's place last night. We had finished off a bottle of wine, had great girly chats and finally called it a night. I was exhuasted and just wanted to flop into bed.

As I got home I noticed that the lovely tree's I had bought and placed in the garden to be planted were not sticking above the wall. As I got closer I found my dog aka Garden Terrorist, full of compost. He had trampled and destroyed everything. Everything. One tree survived.

The only good that came out of this, was that he distributed 3 bags of compost for me. Fuck, I was upset. I burst into tears. There was no sign of the Jasmine (my favourite thing that would have been in my garden!) and there were only a few things that were salvageable. The rest? Destroyed. The Garden Terrorist is lucky to be alive.

I am going for a spray tan tonight and yes, I've had them before and they work brilliantly on my skin. I can't lose 10kgs by Saturday night's TV show, so I'm going to mask it with a tan . I had to exfoliate my body and not use cream, deodorants or anything of the sorts. I ran out of my exfoliater so I jumped out the bath left a wet trail all the way to my kitchen, grabbed my sugar bowl and nearly killed myself on the way back. Slippery feet and tiles apparently don't mix. Who would've thought.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

201 today

It's my 201 post today. Imagine that! You have had to endure me for 200 posts. Dude. Hectic. You've had to endure my whinging, my nagging, my ups and downs and just general crap that is the life of the Blonde Blogshell.
I am always amazed that people enjoy my post (no, there's no fishing here) but I genuinely am. I love receiving your comments and your opinions - you are hilariously funny in some of your comments and I always have good giggles!

Anyways, I went green today. Not in the jealous way, but I felt like a little old lady going off to the Nursery. My garden is so bare. It has grass and some ivy. We built a while back and have tried to get a garden going, but it's been a mission. Our soil is full of cement pieces, pieces of bricks and other rubble the builders seemed to have hidden and we've been trying to sift it out for over a year now.
I love being able to sit in a lush, green garden, smelling the various flowers and hearing birds tweeting. It suddenly occurred to me that I haven't heard birds tweeting at home, well, ever. I only realised this when I went to visit my parents and we sat outside having a cup of tea and heard weavers and doves carrying on in the trees.
With that said, I put on the old jeans, flat shoes and sun hat. I went to our local nursery and bought 4 kinds of trees (they're babies now plus they had to fit into my car), pretty plants with flowers (I don't know their names) that apparently spread out to create ground cover, 4 jasmine creeping plants that bring back memories from my childhood, hibiscus plants and smelly compost.
I am so excited to plant and I am so excited for the man to arrive back next Wednesday and see the garden covered in plants, rather than dirt.

I have a bottle of wine in the car (my favourite - Saint Anna, a cheapy. Ironically I can't drink really expensive wine, I found it tastes awful. Yup, I'm a cheap date.) and I'm heading off (after work) to comedy girl's house. My "twin" and I are going to celebrate!

PS> He gets back next Wednesday. Dude. I cannot wait!! Heard his voice this morning in a delayed phone call and I got all weepy afterwards.

Monday, September 8, 2008


I am so excited I can't seem to slow my heart rate. I can't sit still and I have this unbelievable urge to jump up and down and flap my hands about. Very girly. I know.

I just got confirmation that I am doing a TV shoot this weekend. Man oh man. I cannot wait!
This is super!

Fat senoritas. Here's hoping!

What a weekend! Friday night saw Special K and I knocking back the vodkas and orange juice and dancing like total hooligans. Good fun, but so responsible. I was in bed by 11pm. I had to be. Joburg Day started early on Saturday morning and I loved every minute of it. The weather was superb. A little too hot, but are we ever happy? I saw some total lobsters. Dude. It's called sunscreen. You can't expect to be covered up in winter and then expose your lily white skin to the hot sun and NOT expect to be burnt to a crisp.


Anyway, I really enjoyed the show. All 10 bands/musicians were amazing! It was incredible!!

On Sunday I went to the man's mom for lunch. We spoke to him too as he was at the family house. I really feel like a pathetic love-sick puppy dog. I am missing him so much. There is such a void and my heart physically hurts. I cannot wait for him to come home.

He was stuck in Paris (shame - I could think of worse places to be stuck in) trying to get to Spain and only arrived yesterday. Apparently it's wonderful to see his family there and there's a huge festival on at the moment.
We have this thing between us - we find it hilarious. Suppose you have to be there. If a guy comes up to me trying his luck, I must say 2 words: Fuck Off. I laugh. He laughs. Hilarious. Of course it's never really a reality. So...
I told him that if any Jennifer Lopez/Salma Hayek/ Eva Mendez look-alike senorita comes up to him he should use the two words.

Apparently I really do have a lot of competition. Spanish girls are apparently little vixens, tanned, gorgeous and love wearing bikinis.

This is what I'm dealing with:
OK. This is what I keep telling myself. Don't ruin my moment.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Body Odour

It's called deodorant. I'm just saying. Good God! There is nothing worse then the weather getting warmer and people's B.O. getting stronger.
For 3 hours today I kept sitting next to people who had the worst B.O. EVER.
I couldn't take it. Eventually I walked outside to get some fresh air. Literally.
It was me. Oh the fucking horror. What the hell? I still couldn't get it out of my nostrils and took deep breaths originally to clear the nasal passages and just smelt the waft of B.O constantly.
The shock and realisation of it being me was awful. B..bu..but, I put deo on this morning.
I did. I know I did. WTF??
How embarrassing! If I was sitting closely to people and thinking it was them the whole time, and it was me...they must have been dying. Oh the horror.
Of course. I changed handbags this morning and didn't transfer my deodorant either, so now I have to (mortifyingly) go and ask the very people I've been stinking out for the past 3 hours, if they have deo.
I now smell lovely and floral. Just for the record.
I'm still blushing though.

A mate of mine has organised us tickets for Joburg Day. It's a concert that 94.7 (a radio station) puts on every Spring. I'm quite excited!
I went last year and I loved it!!

Not sure what I'm doing tonight? Have 4 propositions. What can I say? Miss Popular is busy while the man's away! JUST KIDDING!!!!

Have a great weekend and can't wait for the weekend. Honestly.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Jealousy makes you nasty.

I am officially ONE WIF VA SOUTH! Apparently, if you have been to the Black Steer in Mondeor, you are pretty much initiated into the clan!

Blondie 2 and I had a jol and I loved it. I even got a tour of her primary school, high school, ex boyfriends homes, friends homes and her corner supermarket -all after midnight. Lovely.

I'm really getting annoyed with the home page on facebook. I know this is random, but it's literally just happened and changed what I was going to write about. Oooooooh, I'm seething!!!
I hate the Home Page because it shows everything that is done amongst friends and so forth. Cyber bullying. It exists.
Jealousy really does make you nasty.
I don't get people. I really really don't. I am genuinely and utterly respectful and excited for someone and their successes. I am not insecure in someones success, instead I'm inspired.
I don't mean to sound as if I'm just perfect and such a fantastic person, but I am being honest and a little perfect -haha. Narcistic? Me? Sorry...
I do not understand why people have to be so incredibly mean, bitchy and nasty about someone doing well in work, personally or any means that could make someone happy.
I saw exchanged comments written on 2 "friends" walls, purely by default of the home page.
I can be sensitive. Really sensitive. It doesn't, however, take a rocket scientist to know who they're talking about when they're talking about an achievement with my initials attached.
I'm livid.

That's all. Just needed the vent. Thanks blog.

14 days to go. I really am pathetic. Hahahaha

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Current Addictions

My man leaves tonight for that European Country. 15 days. 15 whole days.
My mates are like little Mother Hen's...they're the greatest. "Don't worry Blondie! We'll take good care of you. Your liver? Not so much. Drinks tonight?"

I got tagged by the lovely Being Brazen and so flattered little me, is going to oblige*

What you need to do:
*Post at least five current addictions (with some details please)
*Mention the person who started this game of tag (Being Brazen) and also the person who just tagged you (Being Brazen).
*Type your post with the heading "Current addictions"
*Tag at least two people and pass on the above rules
So, here goes:
1) Cafe Latte's. Let me rephrase. Skinny Cafe Latte's. I adore them. What more can I say?

2.) Boxing. The best workout ever. Plus it really seems to be working. See my previous post. I'm still smiling!

3.) E! Entertainment reality shows. Shallow and silly mostly, but boy it's entertaining and truth be told, I can't get enough.

4.) Nik-Naks. I love the delicious cheesy snacks. They look at me in the Pick N Pay aisles and beg me to take them home. What can I say? I do my charity service.

5.) James Patterson. I adore his books and itch every time I walk past a book store to see if he's released a new book
I have other addictions (all legal, I promise) but I really can't think of them. Brain is a bunch of mush at the moment.
Oh yes, Blondie 2 has invited me to the South. I keep teasing her that she had better give me excellent directions because I panic when and if I get lost. Thank goodness I have my passport on me.

*THANK GOODNESS...had nothing to write in this post! What a save! Thanks Being Brazen ;-)

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Skinny Bitch - well, I'm getting there!

I am absolutely and utterly thrilled. No seriously. I cannot remember the last time this happened to me. In fact, I need to take a moment.
I bought a cute dress yesterday to put over leggings. I hate change rooms and so I didn't try it on. I just took the size I normally wear with the thought that if it doesn't fit, I'll just exchange it.
I put it on this morning, looked in the mirror and my face dropped...into a smile.
It was TOO BIG!!
Well fuck me. I have not experienced that in, well, years!

I did my happy jig and beamed down the stairs to the man who was drinking coffee and playing PS2 Guitar Hero.
"What do you think?"
"It's too big for you!"
"Exactly!! Oh my God! Do you realise what you have just said to me?"
"It's too big?"
"Yeeesss!!!" I break out into 'Hallelujah!' and dance around the room a little.
"Shit, I should have just said that every time you ask me "what do you think?" would have saved me a lot of agony over 5 years."
"Ha! You're funny! Let's take a moment. It's. too. biiiig!"

I have had a permanent grin on my face the entire day!

Now. I'd like to take a minute to address clothing shop owners who have changing rooms.
I am no expert, although I am the typical gal who loves clothes and accessories, so here is my question.
Why the hell are there bright, unflattering lights that show up every lump, bump and pore?
If I had to own a store with change rooms, I'd find "thin" mirrors, with soft attractive lighting and enough hooks to hang up all the clothes plus enough space to move around in.
I'm just saying.
Blondie Boutique. Nice ring to it. Oh and all my blogging friends would get free clothes.
Just as well I don't have a store. I'd be bankrupt before I open! Hahaha!

Oh and...I am seriously looking for a cotton dress that can be casually worn that looks like this - anyone know of a place??

Monday, September 1, 2008


No Fashion Week for me. Had to forgo my front row seat. *Sob* and No EA Games Festival on Saturday. Instead, it was an injection in my bum, penicillin antibiotics, nasal spray, ginger, lemon and honey tea and lots of bed rest. It's all good because I had Denise Richards and The Kardashian's to keep me company.

My self medicating week didn't seem to work and after the severe nagging I got from the boyfriend (like: "Baby! Go to the doctor. I do not want to get sick. You're coughing on me. You're leaving your snotty tissues all over -it spreads germs, you know? and the likes), I finally went to the doctor. I swear, my doctor must think I have a crush on him. I've seen him every month now. It is so weird, I am not normally a "sickly" person but this year has been awful.
Turns out I was sitting with Bronchitis and the first stages of Pneumonia. Fun, huh?
Who knew. Sure I felt sick, but I have felt sicker with sinusitis. If I'm not better by Wednesday, guess who goes to hospital??
Fuck that.

We do not need to have 2 members of the family in hospital. Enough is enough.

We got my mom's test results. They're not good. It's not life threatening, just life debilitating. My family is unbelievably strong though and we will get through this. Power of positivity and prayer is the way to go now.

Happy Spring Day everyone! Hooray!