Creativity is wasted on mere blonde specimens

Zob invited me to see her showcase at Vega last night. Vega is an advertising college, where the seriously creative go... man alive, I was amazed at just how creative these people are! In fact there was this vibe of creative energy that tingled through the air and it had nothing to do with the DJ spinning tracks or the not-so-virgin slush puppies we were drinking. Now, I consider myself to be somewhat creative; but this was totally different. A lot of it went straight over my head! Still...I was uber impressed.

Oh and speaking of heads...I went to get the head highlighted and was quite excited to see those roots disappear. The turned me into an alien with foils on my head and put me in the corner with dog-earred magazines and said they'd check on me in 10 minutes. 10 minutes went by. Another 5 went. I eventually popped my head around the corner. "Remember me?"
I got whisked away to the basin immediately.
I mean, sure, just because Hugh Hefner is single now; doesn't mean I'm auditioning to be a Playboy Bunny. With my hair colour now, I could. Just saying.

I have my boxing Christmas Party tomorrow night and I'm looking forward to smashing a few jaegers and glasses of champers. Bring it on...

Soppiness...bare with me and my hormones.

So, I'm feeling better today. Still bloated but I'm not ready to kill anyone. Yet.
I had a morbid thought to. If I had to be driven over by a bus or something...yesterday's post would have been my last -how revolting. Sorry. All my life, to have my parting words as "I haven't had period cramps like this since high school. I feel as if someone from the movie SAW is inside my tummy trying out new versions for SAW 4!"

Charmer, right there!

Last night, I sat backing up all my blogs. I started in September 2007 and copied and pasted every months post onto my laptop. I am horrified that I've been blogging for over a year. It feels like 6 months. Woah! I'm so glad that blogs started. When I first heard about a blog...it was literally a case of: "Oh my God. That sounds terrible. Is it contagious and is there a cure?"
I was laughed at, of course and after some explaining I decided to do some research about them. I still wasn't 100% sure about how they worked or what the purpose was until I was flipping through Cosmopolitan magazine and saw the section for Blog of the Month. Mushy Peas on Toast was the featured blog, so I copied the URL and went in search. I have read her blog every day since and so I can whole heartedly say that she is the reason I started blogging. I have always enjoyed writing and I must admit, I tried writing as myself. I had a blog with my name and everything, but I found myself censoring what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. I'm not really sure why and I still can't explain it. I deleted it and was talking to a friend of mine. He came up with the name The Blonde Blogshell (wish I could take credit for it; wish I had thought of it) - you'd also be surprised at who that person is, anyways, I found out his wife reads my blog and I nearly had a heart attack - again...the shyness factor and the: "Oh shit what have I said?"
Anyways...this is also something I can't explain... I can't write as myself, under my real name...but I can completely and truly write as ME under a pseudonym. No logic, but it works.

I can't really remember NOT blogging and I look forward to typing out my bitching, my excitements, my sadness and my general experiences. I will never forget receiving my first comment. Ruby Letters welcomed me into the blogging world and I was stoked that someone had read my blog. Chuffed is the word; terrified the other. Oh dear. What happens if someone I actually know stumbles across my blog? Bizarre I know, since I am putting my life into these posts on The Internet for the WORLD to see and yet when people do figure out who the person is behind The Blonde Blogshell I get so shy and freak a little. I know. There's no logic in that at all. I've always been an open person (sometimes to my very own detriment) and often land myself in boiling water. Thing is, I have nothing to hide and I'm in my twenties learning about life and who I am as a woman. I don't feel I need to apologise for who I am and what my own opinions are.
I like being able to be anonymous (well sort of...like I said..openness can be detrimental to me at times) and I like having anonymous people comment on my blog with their opinions. I find it fascinating and cyber-weird that I consider you guys to be my friends...friends I've never really met. Again, no sense in that either, but it's true.

So...as my 235 post, I'd like to say THANK YOU for the comments and for your very own blogs that I love reading over a cup of vanilla tea. Thank you for allowing me this platform to really express myself and to have fun!

PS> Two months and 2 days left until 2009. Just saying.

Painting the town red. Just saying.

Right so...don't read any further if you're male and can't handle female stuff!
Just a warning.

I am so fucking bloated I feel like I've swallowed a watermelon whole. Man, I look 10 months pregnant and I'm not trying to be cute about it. No exaggeration. Just pure uncomfortable bloating.
I am PMSing like a bitch at the moment. Good grief. I have turned into a monster. Seriously. Even the man is wary of me. He is walking on egg shells hoping not to get burned by my fiery mouth and stare that could turn you to ashes.
I haven't been this PMS-ey in ages! Don't know what's going on.
My stomach is killing me. I am in agony. I haven't had period cramps like this since high school. I feel as if someone from the movie SAW is inside my tummy trying out new versions for SAW 4!
Argh!
Bloody hell...excuse the pun. Eww. Sorry.

Periods suck. Period.

TMI? Afraid so. Did warn you.

Sandton City

Wow. Who knew that 2 hours at Sandton City could be so entertaining? I don't really shop at Sandton City purely because it's waay too expensive and because I have shopping malls closer to home.

Right, so with that said. I had to return something to Sandton City that I had purchased. I had a few hours to spare and decided to walk around a bit. I needed Re-writable CD's and underwear. In no particular order.

I know this is a little weird for some, but it's not like I go underwear shopping all that often. I normally buy in bulk -so to speak and that lasts me for a while. A long while.

I know that we're in an economic slump, but dude. R250 for a bra? One bra?

I ended spending R910.35 today and got two bra's and 5 panties. Basically 1 pair for each day of the week. Weekends are going to be a la Britney. Kidding. Or am I?

I literally had one of those tug of wars with my credit card and the sales lady. It wasn't pretty.

Sales Lady: 1

Blondie: 0

Right, so there I am deciding between cute little briefs that say: "Access Denied" and "Fragile: This Way Up", this elderly gentleman walks in. He has his walking stick in one hand and a Woolworths packet in the other.

He says (matter of factly) to the I'm-so-bored-please-can-I-fold-another-pair-of-panties-woohoo sales lady: "Excuse me. Are there fashion shows?"

"Huh?"

"Well. If I wanted to buy something for the Mrs, how would I know what to get?"

"Um. Look in her cupboard and see what she likes or find out her size and surprise her."

"Bu-but don't you have models here to try on the lingerie for me to decide?"

"No sir."

"Awwww!"

We suddenly clicked that this sweet old man was not so sweet after all. He's a filthy pervert. I was enthralled.

I finally left with my pretty packet - at least the packaging was worth it (a shallow satisfaction.)

I had to wait in line to pay for my parking, which by the way is RIDICULOUSLY expensive. So, it's finally my turn. I insert the parking voucher and insert a R20 note. I'm supposed to get R7 back. I do and out pops the new R5 coin and a R2 coin.

As I pop the coins into my wallet, I suddenly notice something unusual. It's not a R5 coin. It looks similiar and is the same weight.

Nope. It's a Turkish 1 cent coin. Man, I was pissed. Although...I now would like to find out what a) the exchange rate is

b) aren't they part of the EU, so they should be using Euro's, in which case this is null and void or it's potentially worth something as an old coin? (I may sound stupid, but I don't actually know if they're part of the EU or not.)

c) I've been swindled out of R5.

Above is the Turkish coin.

Above is the old R5 coin on the left and the new R5 coin on the Right
.

Oh and to try and get some help or someone who actually gives a damn is almost impossible, so I now have Turkish money in my wallet. Have I thought about passing it off as R5 coin myself?
Hell yes.
Will I?
Dude no...I do believe in Karma. Financial Karma.

Hickey's, watermelon, Sex and the City, mom and charity....you come up with a title for this! LOL

This weekends charity event was an interesting one. It got drenched. Wow and Wags Charity event was held outside with a small marquee for guests to enjoy champagne and canapes. Their actual seats for the show were outside. We had a small marquee for celebrities, make-up artists, hair stylists and wet dogs. It was chaos. Our marquee actually flooded and some bags were soaked. Designer gowns were soaked and we had to walk out onto the ramp, dog in one hand and umbrella in the other. It was tres interesting.
I know we wanted rain, hell, we bitched about the dryness, but hells bells, it sure made up for it on Saturday night. Hail, thunder, large droplets...it was proper.


When was the last time you got a hickey? No really. I discovered I had one on my shoulder...not an intentional-16-year-old-let's-give-you-a-hickey but rather a nuzzle that was harder than expected and left a purple mark. Dude. Not great. Not great when you have a strappy dress and the make-up atist whispers loudly: "Should I cover that with base?"
Isn't the purpose of a whisper to be discreet? I mean seriously. Why bother whispering? Why not announce it over the PA system?
Thing is I wasn't aware what "that" was.
So Blondie here, being...well, blonde says: "Cover what?"
"Your hickey!"
"Wh..what?"
At this stage a few people have gathered around to see what must have been Barney's purple head grinning at them on my neck.
Lovely.
They all gave me the look. The "I-know-what-you've-been-doing-Grrrrrrr!!!" look.
It turns out it wasn't as bad as it originally seemed and quite frankly it really can't quite be classified as a hickey. Right? It was a nuzzle. A loving nuzzle that left a mark. I'm putting it out there.


Today I went to visit mom. She's definitely doing better. I brought over watermelon and the Sex and the City Movie DVD. I bought it yesterday. I HAD to have it in my DVD Collection. I also found the Marilyn Munroe Complete DVD Collection. I've never seen a single movie with her in it, but strangely enough and I really can't explain it, but I'm fascinated by her.
I wanted to buy it without a hesitation, until I saw the price. Dear God! R2000! Um... Next time...ahem.

Anyway, so... mom and I were perched on the bed, watermelon on laps indulging in 2 hours of bliss. What a movie. I had forgotten how many sex scenes there were. Yes Blondie strikes again...
It doesn't matter how close you are to your mom, it is still awkward whenever any sex scene comes on screen it doesn't matter if it's 5 seconds or 5 minutes. Awkward.



I thought this was a fitting picture...Watermelon and Sex and The City ;-)

Charity and Showers

So I received this email from my gorgeous sister. I know it's not original, but I'm feeling as original as....um... see? Can't even think of that! So...here it is! It made me wet my pants. Not literally, but nearly. Just saying.

Part 1: HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN:
Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according tolights and darks.
Walk to bathroom wearing long dressing gown.. If you see husband alongthe way, cover up any exposed areas. Look at your womanly physique inthe mirror, make mental note to do more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc.
Get in the shower. Use face cloth, arm cloth, leg cloth, long loofah,wide loofah and pumice stone.
Wash your hair once with cucumber and sageshampoo with 43 added vitamins.
Wash your hair again to make sure it's clean.
Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner.
Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red.
Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash.
Rinse conditioner off hair.
Shave armpits and legs.
Turn off shower.
Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower.
Spray mold spots with Tilex.
Get out of shower.
Dry with towel the size of a small country.
Wrap hair in super absorbent towel.
Return to bedroom wearing long dressing gown and towel on head.If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.

Part 2: HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN:
Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them ina pile.
Walk naked to the bathroom. If you see wife along the way, shake willy at her while making the woo-hoo sound.
Look at your manly physique in the mirror. Admire the size of your willy and scratch your butt.
Get in the shower.
Wash your face.
Wash your armpits.
Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse the snot off.
Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower.
Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.
Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.
Wash your hair.
Make a shampoo Mohawk.
Pee.
Rinse off and get out of shower.
Partially dry off.
Fail to notice water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub thewhole time.
Admire willy size in mirror again.
Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, light and fan on.
Return to bedroom with towel around waist.
If you pass the wife, pulloff towel, shake willy at her and make the woo-hoo sound again.
Throw wet towel on her pillow.

Like I said...nearly wee'd.

I am quite excited about tomorrow night. I do a lot of charity work and tomorrow night I am a part of Wow and Wags the proceeds will go to: FreeMe
I am being dressed by Story Design -an incredible designer and my Garden Terrorist and this post is being dressed by Doggie Hillfigher.
Exciting times!

Have a wicked weekend biatches!

It's called: DRIVING PROPERLY!

Right, so I know I sound like I go to the opening of an envelope. I really don't. It's just this time of the year. Promise. Besides, I know girls (socialites) who do go to the opening of an envelope and trust me, it's not a good rep to have.
So, with that said, in the silly season and all... I am going to the Sandton City Fashion Show tonight for the media for more champagne and fashion. As you do. I am excited...Blondie 2, Special K and I are going through!! :-) YAY!



I'm rather chuffed...I received an award! *Blush* Thank you ExMi!! You totally rock. Just saying.

I do not understand drivers. No seriously. It is a little rain. Not a plague of locusts. Is it necessary to slam on breaks and drive at the 30k mark when a few rain drops hit your windscreen? It's not even a full bloody rain storm. It's like the sky is thinking about opening the heavens...it's like the clouds sneezed and a few drops came down. It's not a full on thunderstorm. Good grief people. Get over yourselves. Now...on the flip side, I'm not saying that you need to drive like Speedy Gonzales when the rain really does belt down, but for heavens sake (pun intended...cos I'm really witty that way) DRIVE PEOPLE, or did you get your drivers license from a Checkers Lucky Packet?

There. I feel better. Well...I'll feel 100% better after I get this out.

I am on my way to a meeting today. There are two lanes on the road. One for me going to meeting...one for people going in the opposite direction. Ok...just in case anyone is unclear (as clearly this woman was.) one lane for me and one lane for you. There is a truck in my lane for construction. There is a construction worker with a red flag who has stopped the on coming traffic and is waving us on. So off I drive, around the monstrous truck. There are 3 cars in front of me. This stupid stupid stupid woman decides she's too good in her BMW (of course) to wait and turns into our lane to drive around the cars patiently waiting their turn.

I'm not quite sure what she wanted to achieve, because she blocked us and had no way to go...but as a result of her sudden movement into our lane, the two cars in front slammed on breaks, the car in front of me slammed on breaks and as I came around the truck (blind spot) I suddenly had to slam on breaks, hear that gorgeous rubber shriek of my tyres and bump straight into the car in front of me. Luckily I wasn't driving too fast and there's barely any damage but still. In the police report I had to state how fast I was going. Now...how is THIS for sadisitic? I was embarrassed to write there 20ks. I mean, at least make it good and be like 80 or something, but how revolting am I? The damage of the car AND me would have been horrible. Oh no...there's Blogshell embarrassed that I'd had an accident driving 20ks an hour. I am morbid. I know.

Go on...ASK ME! I dare ya...

I think Nick Bolton is a genius. I really do. He is one of the top photographers in South Africa and I could basically wear a potato sack and he'd still make the shot look artistic and fantastic! Man, I can't wait to get the actual photographs! I have felt like a supermodel for a day!
I am gushing, I know...but when you look at the screen and go: "Oh my God! Is that ME? It IS me!!" then you'd be doing the same!

I have an opening of an actor friend of ours (my man and I) club tonight. The man and I are going through for cocktails and canapes, good music and to catch up with people we haven't seen in a while. It should be good!

I've decided to start a Wedding Fund. Every single time someone asks me when my man and I are getting married, I'm going to ask them for R10. Maybe I should up that to R100, but considering our current economic state, I thought I'd be kind ;-)
By the time the man and I do actually decide to tie the know, don on the ball and chain and throw confetti around, we'll have enough money to actually have a wedding. Not just a pretty face...um blog...neh?

RIP

I'm no barrel of joy today. I received a phonecall from Zob today. She was in tears and I could hardly make out what she was saying.
It turns out that the horrific and tragic plane crash this morning was carrying some one we know. Zob went to school with her and was good friends with her.
I am numb. I may not have known her all that well, but it is still weird to know that someone's life is over so quickly and horrifically and to know that I've had drinks and fun with her. It's just weird, you know? I can't imagine what her close friends, family and boyfriend are feeling!
Rest In Peace Gillian. You will be missed.

Here is the story that is all over the news:

Plane burst into flames
21/10/2008 12:10 - (SA)

Johannesburg - Four men and two women were killed when their aircraft crashed in Germiston shortly after taking off from the Rand Airport east of Johannesburg on Tuesday.
Their light aircraft took off at 08:10 and about 2km into its journey to Ficksburg in the eastern Free State the pilot called in to request an emergency landing, said airport manager Anton Kruger.
However, the aircraft broke up and burst into flames as it came down behind the Germiston Raceway.
The area is surrounded by factories, a golf course and a popular lake.
ER24 emergency services spokesperson Werner Vermaak said their control room was flooded with calls from people reporting the accident. They said the plane suddenly went down about 500m from the busy N3.
The company sent all their vehicles in the area to the scene, but on arrival found that none of the six people on board had survived.
"There were no injuries, only fatalities," he said. "The plane is burnt out."

Saturday Night...

Dude...my weekend was totally insane!! The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Launch was well, um...sexy!
It's just NOT FAIR. No honestly. I know I'm going to sound like such a chick now, but how is it possible for one human being to be that tall and toned with a button nose, piercing eyes, gorgeous hair and not a pimple or dimple in sight?
Wait. I sound like I'm perving. OK wait...this is the "chick" part. I was literally looking for flaws. I was looking and looking and I'm sure I must have looked rather bitchy, but I was gobsmacked. No fair; no fair!
I was utterly exhausted and got home at midnight. Blondie 2 stayed over in the spare bedroom that I'm convinced is haunted. Another story for another day.

Saturday was the day I MC'd for 7 hours and to be honest, I had such a jol! I was exhausted at first, but there is something about 6000+ people all screaming and whistling at you that can perk you up quite a bit. Just saying.

Right, so I'm getting to the good part! SATURDAY NIGHT! Blondie 2 and Special K came over to my crib (because I'm ghetto like that) and we did something so High School and I loved it! We got ready, we did each others make-up, helped with hair and took photo's. As you do.
We were getting ready for Daddy Long Legs Birthday Party. We weren't quite sure how "sober" he would be considering he had been on a pub crawl from 10am; so we were figuring we'd have a party anyway.
We arrived in the pouring rain and managed to hobble (quickly) through the puddles in stiletto's to the venue. We were right, he was a mad/glazed-eyed man who was dancing with anything that moved or didn't move, as the cleaners broom stick got to discover.
We danced, downed shooters and laughed the whole night long. I was having a swell time until it was my turn to go to the bar and get a round of drinks. A guy in a red shirt came up behind me and started dancing with my back...No. Grinding his stiffy into my back. It was horrifying. I turned around but he had moved onto his next victim with his "I can't quite see you, but you must be woman" look.
Two hours later, it was my turn again. I went to the bar and stood next to someone I haven't seen in ages! So there I am, chatting away when I feel some wet splashes on my leg. I didn't think anything of it because I had heard a glass drop. The next second, I feel a LOT more liquid on my leg travel straight into my shoe. I whip around to see Red Shirt guy keeled over the bar vomitting his guts out. Well. I have never been so repulsed. The bouncers removed him and I spent 15 minutes in the bathroom, emptying my shoe out and cleaning my leg, wretching from the smell.
I promptly sprayed half a bottle of Michael Kors onto my leg and went back to party.

At about 02h30, we all piled back into Special K's car and went in search of pies. The first garage we stopped at only had 2 and none of us were feeling charitable enough to share; so we moved on.
At the next Sasol garage we found 3 pies waiting for us, I mean they literally had our names on them. Instead of eating and driving (it's sooo dangerous!); we found a small table with two chairs on them. Special K and Blondie plonked their asses down and left me to sit on the ice-cream drawer. I like to think I was freezing my assets.
So, we're pretty "happy" - a lovely warm alcohol glow stuffing our pie holes with, well, pies when our victim arrived.
At this stage, we are pretty fucking hilarious. Blondie 2 goes up to him (he's buying a Fanta) and decides to be one of those sales woman that irritate the shit out of you in the supermarket.
She walked up behind him, picks up a box of washing powder and proceeds to be a cheesy salesman.
Mr. I Have No Funny Bone says to her: "I don't think you're very funny! I mean no girls should be eating pies at 3am!"
Say what? Oh no he didn't! (Ghetto Blondie is da bomb!)
Well, all 3 of us mature girls starting hucking him. Eventually Blondie 2 put the washing powder and handed him a box of Brooklax. Priceless.
I nearly wet myself.

Ah, the good times!!!

What weekend??

My week has been hectic as far as work is concerned and weird working hours, but the real chaos starts today.
I have sound check for a corporate function I’m MC-ing tomorrow, later on today; I have to be on the other side of Joburg to do 2 voice overs and then fly back to work. All of this needs to be done within a space of 2 hours today.

After work, it’s the standard get-ready-in-the-office-bathrooms for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model Edition Launch Party – sheesh, this was more of a mouthful than most models can consume. ;-) Couldn’t resist. Sorry.
As excited as I am to party, I really must say that standing next to bronzed, silky, skinny, cellulite and stretch mark free, “we-basically-produce-our-own powder-on-our-perfect-faces-because-we-never-shine” models; rates right up there with, um...I don’t know... glass gargling.

So that means I now have to make sure I go for the “uber glam, stylish, sexy, what this old thing? I haven’t tried too hard” look. Blondie 2 and I have to go – it’s a compulsory work thing. We’re going to sip on champagne and tell each other how amazing we look and that if Sports Illustrated ever had to do a Real Woman Swimsuit Issue, we’d be their first 2 picks. We would. Give me another glass of champers. We’ll talk about how boring it must be to look in the mirror every day and just look that gorgeous. How annoying it must be to walk around giving men whiplash.
Yawn. How boring. ;-)

I then need to be up early on Saturday morning, make sure I look like a million rand...no dollars...no euros, and head down to the corporate function. It starts in the morning and ends in the afternoon. Tomorrow night Daddy Long Leg’s is having his birthday party. I have two words. Raucous Fun.
On Sunday I get to have a slight lie-in before I go off to MC a charity function for Breast Cancer.

See? Like I said, my busiest time. I figured out how to explain it. It’s like getting on a rollercoaster. It’s exciting and thrilling but there’s no end to it and you wanna get off. Immediately.
I know I sound like I’m complaining. It’s not that I’m not enjoying what I’m doing or grateful for the amount of work pouring in, I just need a holiday. How many times can I type this in one post? Dude!
You’ll totally understand when I tell you this.
I had a break for 10 days in January 2008. I haven’t had a day off this year (other than sick leave and that DEFINITELY doesn’t count) and the last holiday I had before the 10 days in January?
2 years ago. Basically, I have had a 10 day holiday in 3 years.
See why I’m being such a crabby bitch?

Hmph.

I just don’t seem to have much in me at the moment. I have been good at blogging every single day. I don’t have the energy to do that anymore. I really am tired and I could do with a weekend of sleep. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.


We’ve entered the silly season. Already. I actually saw my first Christmas advert on TV and heard jingle bells in a radio advert advertising Christmas Specials.
Kill me now. I feel like I just packed away my Christmas Tree. The idea of having to start Christmas shopping all over again freaks me out completely. Anyway, let me not be like the retailers and get ahead of myself.

This is, however, my busiest time in the year and it’s madness. Total chaos. No exaggeration. While everyone knocks off work in December; I work. While you enjoy Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and New Years Eve....I have worked these days.
There are no such things as public holidays in my line of work. I would love to go away in December for 2-3 weeks. The last time I took a holiday in December for that amount of time, I was still in school. In fact since I started my career the longest holiday I’ve had is 10 days.
I guess I’m just feeling drained. I’m the energiser bunny who is using the wrong batteries.
I don’t even have much to say..I can’t think of anything funny that has happened to me or anything amazingly special that has happened in the Blogshells world.
I am literally back to work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep with eating in between.
Everything is such an effort at the moment. Everything.

I’m just a barrel of joy, aren’t I?

Ze French have a way with words....

So, seen any aliens? Today was D-Day. Will Smith didn't need to be on alert,after all!
Well... What a fucking day.

I was asked to be in a fashion show today for charity. I am not a model. I am not size zero and I am doing this for fun with other profiles. Some are top models and others that are TV personalities, radio presenters etc.
Right. So. The organiser of the show, who happens to be a friend of mine, asked for my dress size.
I told him and he looked at me like I was crazy.
"Honey! You are hardly that size! Look at all the weight you've lost!"
"Flattery babe, thank you, but I know my body. Even though I've lost weight, I've lost no weight in my boobs (thank God) and my back bones/ribs can't lose weight and I've always had a broad back. I know my size hun!"
I arrive at the rehearsal and dress fitting last night, to find that he has organised dresses (they're beautiful and expensive designer dresses) that are 3 sizes too small.
As a result, I had to organise with the boutiques and designers to get new dresses tomorrow morning (the day of the show...which is today. Keep up.) Not my job and a little annoying, but he's a friend and I don't mind. All that much.
Oh and this is awesome, I am standing with Miss South Africa and other celeby models who are trying on size 28 and 30 dresses.
"Oooh, it's too big. We'll have to pin it!"
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhh!! I can bearly fit the dresses over my head or above my knees. Kill me now.

I race off to the first designer (time is of the essence) and eventually find something that fits.
I then race off to the show, do the final rehearsal and then race to the final store before the actual show starts.
Mission and a half. I walk in with the dress that doesn't fit. It's a size 32. I go straight to the manager who actually happens to be the owner of the store. She's French. A FRENCH BITCH!
"Hi there, I need to change this dress for the Fashion Show happening in 2 hours time!"
"Oh, is ze model obese?"
"Excuse me? It's actually for me. I'm not a model, I'm one of the personalities modelling in it."
"But you are 'uge!"
"WHAT??"
"Zis is ze beegest dress we 'ave!"
"Well, I am hardly obese...I'm a normal woman who has curves."
"Well zis is a beeg size for ze French. You will stretch ze clothes."
"Right. You're in SA and I don't need you being bitchy, I just need a solution since I'm wearing your clothes in an hour! If you'd rather I don't, trust me, I'd be thrilled. I don't need to wear your lousy clothes anyway."
She sulked off and threw outfits into the change room while making sarcastic, bitchy comments to her shop assistant about getting Really, really, really BEEG sizes and "non, non, that vil never fit her...get her a beeger one."

Fuck, I'm so pissed off. I couldn't believe the nerve. I was actually more irritate with myself that I hadn't stood up for myself and bitch slapped her. I wish I wasn't such a walk over, but it was literally one of those: Could've; should've; would've scenarios.

I finally found something and pushed my shoulders back, the boobs forward, sucked the tummy in and pasted a smile on my face and walked out there...no I "minced" out there for the world to see this Curvy REAL woman strutting her stuff down the catwalk.

I had fun, but dude.

Aliens are coming...

I was having a very interesting conversation with a producer friend of mine. He is mad about Nostradamus, predictions and other dimensions etc. According to his friends who believe in things like this: Aliens are coming.

This is not to be laughed at. Apparently.

They are actually set to arrive (not land - this is important) on the 14th October 2008, apparently. That's right. Diarize it now and look at the sky on Tuesday. So, they're arriving in their space ships and will hover (not land) for a while for the world to see. Apparently they are doing this to "show face" and to change the worlds perceptions. Apparently our mind sets will change from worrying about race and cultures to worrying about little green men.

Oh and of course I asked if they are little green men. They're not. Apparently.

If this is right*, then that means that this blog is cutting edge and out of this world. Pun intended.

If this isn't right**, then you can all have a good laugh at me. Ok, actually. No. You can have a good laugh at my producer. You know, don't shoot the messenger and all that jazz!

Apparently, the Mayan Calendar is amazing too. It has been quite accurate. Apparently.

They predict that the end of the world will happen on the 21st December 2012.

That's 21.12.12. Which, if you break it down is 3.3.3. and if you add that it's 9***. The last number.

I'm quite chuffed in a sadistic, selfish way. I'll never reach 30. Cool.

* Can't believe I've typed this...as in I have actually considered this as a possibility.

** Still being considered. WTF?

*** And my maths teacher said I was useless. I mean really.

PS> I typed the word "Apparently" alot, apparently!!

Antiques and Fan Mail

I've had a lovely and interesting day. When was the last time you walked through the Old Melville?
I felt like I was in another country. There are so many quaint stores, coffee shops and restaurants with unique things from beads, to second hand book stores and vintage stores. It was such a lovely different day to go through all the antiques and clothes! The clothes weren't as cute as I had hoped, but wow there were some real amazing pieces of furniture and an old suit case/trunk that was spectacular. It was so old and rich in history. If only it could talk. I could have a fabulous conversation finding out about all it's travels.
It was a shocking R250. I was expecting another zero at the end for it's size and it's age, but R250 it was. I wanted to take it home with me, but it's being loaned out for a movie!
I'll have to go back and get it! I don't know what I'll do with it considering I have a modern home and these pieces (as lovely as they are) would just not go. Pity.

So, I've been doing well with my boxing and I've actually been eating properly. Amazing. No really. For me, this is something to go into the Blogshell Record book.
I am feeling lighter and I am feeling really good.
Just saying.

Oh and I thought I would share something with you. This is one of the emails I get on a daily basis. It used to be sweet that they had taken the time out to mail me, but now it is just becoming creepy. I've swopped my name for Blondie.

Blondie, I may av not yet got an opport 2even spend a few hrs g8in 2kno a star lyk u beta.
BUT U URSELF SED IT IS 'WHO U R' IN YR WEBSITE. My philos mayb diffe bt wot i do kno is dt Blondie is a clean hearted, hold no grudge stunnin pers.

I was alwys tawt not 2judge ppl cos of thr luks but judge a pers by ho dey r-&not wat dey r-i neva gt it til i realizd my duties 2fulfil my own.
Ur d absolute-&alwys wil rem d absolute.&der is alwys a reason y we in each others lives.. Nt 2Q-cos i kno its2learn somethin 4rm each otha:)

OK...so this is what I get...if you can decode that for me, I'd appreciate it.

PS...BLOG AWARDS...

I know I've already posted below, but in my list...there was something about awards...SO, I figured I'd start here and give some out...

Simply copy this and post it on your blog.


I've chosen your blog because I adore it. I do my best to read it every single day (regardless of whether I comment or not) and because I find your writing and content fascinating and I'd like to thank you for keeping me entertained

In no particular order, this is for you!



Miss M

Kitty Cat

Kab

Peas on Toast

Baglett

Being Brazen

Zuzula Grows Up

Sweets

Moe Wanchuk

Midnite Gem

Doodles of a Journo

Miss T

Cheap Thrills

Philly Girl

Happy Snapper

Ruby

Po


Now, you can see, that I read ALOT everyday, so please forgive me if I don't always comment, but please know that I appreciate your blogs!!

Man, I really hope I haven't left anyone out! How crap will that be!!

So many things; so little time.

I don’t know about you, but I often feel as if I’m not doing enough with my life. I’m not sure if I could squeeze much more into my seriously hectic life already, but that’s just the problem.
I feel as if I am out of sync with myself and I feel as if I’ve mismanaged the balance in my life. I need to re-look at the Blonde Blogshell’s Balance “Pie-Chart” so to speak.
At the moment a huge chunk would be work, work and more work and there would be small slivers left for family, my man, exercise, ME TIME (what’s that?) and other important things in my life.
This time of the year always makes me feel like this. The year flies by and I don’t realise until there are 2 months left of the year and it suddenly hits me like a tonne of bricks. Where did this bloody year go to? Did we not just celebrate the beginning of 2008?
It makes me think that this year flew by so quickly, that I didn’t get to do half the things I would have liked to and now there are only 2 months left to do them. 2 months that are probably my busiest.
Lists always help me organise things in my head.

These are some of the things I would love to do (newly edited: in my lifetime.)
Some of them big; some of the small; some can be done immediately; some are long term goals and some aren't even listed...
They’re in no particular order, but rather how they’ve popped into my head.

I would like to:

• Go away. A lovely long holiday would be ideal, but at this stage a weekend away would be wonderful. I need a change of scenery.
• Take a long beautiful drive out into the country side, away from the smog, construction and tall buildings.
• Travel to another country to enjoy all the senses and culture that country has to offer.
• Finish turning the garage into an office. It’s a project my man has started and I have joined.We still have so much to do. Clear out the rest of the stuff we have “stored”, put in wooden floors, paint the walls, buy office furniture and decorate.
• Re-decorate our home.
• Get the garden sorted out and plant a vegetable and herb garden.
• Start a non-profit charitable organisation/foundation.
• Be more secure in who I am. I learn something more about myself every day.
• Stop caring about what people think of me.
• Learn how to roast a leg of lamb.
• Host a sophisticated dinner party.
• Create a perfume.
• See Summer, my Golden Labrador - the Guide Dog. She works up in the Northern Province for her new blind owner Bennie.
• Buy a new car. I still drive my first car and it’s about to celebrate it’s 8th birthday.
• Be healthy, get to my ideal weight and maintain that.
• To not fear doing something on my own. To take that risk and make a success out of it.
• Meet Nelson Mandela.
• Sing more.
• Buy a beautiful camera that allows me to take more professional photographs.
• Get photographs printed. Ever since digital photography came about, all my photographs are on my laptop. I can’t remember the last time I developed photographs and as a result I don’t have any recent photo’s in gorgeous frames around the house.
• Paint more.
• Be more organised and neat.
• To finish the novel I’m writing. I’m on Chapter 9 of it and once it’s done, I’ll see how I feel about publishing it and if it’s possible to.
• To be more romantic. To actually take the time out for “us” time.
• To take more time out for “me” time.
• Visit my family in Europe.
• Get a facial.
• Read more and try new genres of books.
• Learn French, Spanish and Swiss German.
• Go on a train ride.
• Explore.
• Spend even more time with my dog (the Garden Terrorist) and take him out to the dam.
• Clean out my cupboards and stop hoarding. I need to be brutal with clothes and things because I have a tendency to think that: “I may need this one day...” and never do. Donate the clothes I don’t wear anymore to charities.
• Recycle.
• Make more time for family.
• Buy a blender.
• Buy a new lounge suite – this is actually a necessity.
• Bake bread.
• Own property.
• Have someone throw me a surprise party. Weird, I know.
• Win an award. I’ve come close, when I was nominated for one, but I’d love to win and have to say an “Acceptance Speech!” Haha
• Be more observant
• Be a tourist in my own country.
• Travel overseas to watch the Monaco Grand Prix and Wimbledon.
• Horse ride on the beach.
• Ride an Elephant.
• Go to LA, Spain, an Island, Paris, Italy, Croatia to see what these places are really like and if they match the idea’s in my head.
• Be an early riser and be more productive in my day.
• Own a Haute Couture gown.
• Go on a shopping spree with no guilt and no limit. *Sigh*
• Go on a holiday with mates.
• Get THE call that the project Special K and I have been working on for over 2 years, is a successful DONE DEAL. We’ve come so far and it would be lovely to know that people have OFFICIALLY signed on the dotted line.
• If the above happens, I’ll be able to retire by 30.

I could go on, but dude, at this stage I need to actually do these things....

Tropical Dreams

So, we postponed the drinking Cosmopolitans to this weekend! How fabulous. I think it's now progressed to Champagne. Even more fabulous.


I haven't managed to get any birthday gifts yet. I know. I'm a horrible friend. I absolutely HATE showing up at a party empty handed. At this stage, even a gift voucher would be better than nothing. I feel awful, but luckily they will understand. I have had a week that has flown by. I have been up at the crack of dawn and crashed into bed for 4 hours of sleep, until the alarm clock terrorises the room for the next day to start all over again.
Madness, but it's been fun. Maybe I am sadistic.


I need a holiday. I can smell it, taste and yet sadly, I just can't touch it. I want to get out of this city. I need to. I'm going crazy. I need white sandy beaches, turquoise water, palm trees, suntan lotion and pina coladas.

I have never ever been to an island and I would love to go to one. At this stage I'm not fussy, but I would love to go to the Caribbean. Mauritius must be beautiful but it seems so common these days. God, I've turned into an island snob.
I would love to drive to the airport right now. International Departures and get onto a plane to piss off for 3 weeks.
How lovely and enticing.



Back to reality.


I reckon, I'll ditch the Cosmo's for Pina Colada's and find a sandpit to run around in. Hey. with the amount of construction going on, I'm sure there must be plenty of sand to run around in.
I'll lather myself in suntan lotion and watch the Travel Channel.


Have a brilliant weekend!

FOUR

I smell like babies. Cute, Johnson and Johnson babies! The twins, Twinkles and Nails had me around for tea and fudge this morning. It was lovely! I got to see Twinkles new baby girl (she's 3 weeks old and so tiny) and Nails 4 month baby boy! Man, but they are so cute!
I got broody, but I'm cool now because I got to hand babies back!

Is that rain? Hell yes. Ok well, it's hardly rain, more like a splutter of water from the clouds above. Still, it was nice to smell that rain smell!!

Being Brazen tagged me in a meme called FOUR... (I feel special)
Four is my favourite and lucky number, so why not?

1.Four places I go to over and over:
*Boxing gym in Fourways
*My local Pick n Pay
* Various coffee shops -depends where I am, but generally in a coffee shop
*Work

2. Four people who e-mail me regularly:
* Tshego from work
* Facebook -letting me know what is happening on my page.
* Special K and Blondie 2 (much of a muchness)
* My mom

3. Four of my favorite places to eat:
*Adega -give me the 1kilo of prawns. NOW.
*My parents house
* Any seafood restaurant really...
* Our own or friend's braai's (BBQ's)

4. Four places you'd rather be:
* In bed for a DVD marathon with butter popcorn
* sipping Pina Colada's on a tropical island
* in my mans arms.
* travelling the world

5. Four TV shows I could watch over and over:
* The Hills
* Sex and The City
* CSI (any one)
* Gillmore Girls

I know I need to tag people, but I can't bring myself to do it, so oblige me if you want to! C'mon! I know you want to!

Supermodel for the day...

Hale-bloody-lujah!!

Blogger HATES me. I have been trying to log on all this time and I haven't been able to. I thought I'd try this one last time and voila!!

I guess all my threatening works.

Damn, it's been busy!! Blondie 2's birthday was yesterday and we celebrated with cake at the office and loud singing -as you do.

So, before I get into the office, I call the birthday girl to wish her and I hear her whispering originally, but as the conversation goes on, she get's louder and louder.

B2: Aw Blondie, thanks love! I'm having a brilliant day!

B: What are you doing tonight?

B2: Going for dinner with the family.

B: Niiice. I should call your mom. After all it is birth-giving day for her too

B2: That it is. Can you believe 26 years ago my mother pushed me out of her vagina?

B: Um, well, fuck, yes...interesting thought.

B2: Vagina. Vagina. Vagina. Love that word. Vag... Oh shit...

B: What's going on?

B2 whispering: I'm in a press conference.

B: Fuck off. Seriously?

B2: Yup. Apparently, I'm louder than the speaker. Oh great. I'm getting death stares now. Gotta go.

Love her.

Tomorrow night Zob, Special K, Blondie 2 and I are going to celebrate all 3 of their birthdays!! Should be a complete debaucherous night. Good. Can't wait.

The Cosmopolitans had better be amazing. I am looking forward to wrapping my lips around those pretty martini glasses.

I had a photo shoot today. Man. I really enjoyed it, but seriously. How the hell do you give a "sexy look"; a "angry look"; a "seductive look" and a "really seriously happy look" without looking like a cheesy freak?

It's hard. Suck in the tummy so you can barely breathe, make sure the back is straight but not stiff, adjust the twins so they look boobalicious oh and please, look natural.

Sure.

Just an average day in the office, right? Dude. Insanity. How the hell do these models do it?

My cheeks are sore, I have more make-up on than a tranvestite and more hairspray in my goldilocks than Patricia Lewis does.

I'm prepared to take a bet.

BUT...the photo's are fuckalicious. I'm just saying. Modestly.

I'm proud.