Merry Christmas and Happy New Year...see you in 2009!

So it is that time of year when I say Goodbye.

I am going on holiday and so is my blog. I'll only return to it in January when I am hopefully well rested, bronzed and cocktailed out :-)
I. cannot. wait!

I leave for the coast tomorrow at 6am. I have to still pack and do the wax etc, but I am just so excited about, I cannot put it into words!

Thank you so much for a wonderful blogging year (it's my first full blogging year) and quite frankly, I don't know what I would do without it. It's my space to share, vent, question and entertain myself too by reading your blogs! Thank you for the support, love, the friendly comments and most of all for being friends!

I really hope you have a really wonderful Festive Season! MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

I just have a truly good feeling about 2009 and I hope you celebrate in style! May it be a prosperous one for you and your loved ones!

Dread

I've been putting it off, but I'm running out of time. I need to take the plunge and plunge straight into the chaotic malls. Help me.
I need to still do my Christmas shopping. I know! I haven't even started. I know!!!
I am dreading it! Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dreading the buying part (I love giving gifts) but I am dreading throwing myself into the lions pit of hurried shoppers, irritable shop assistants and crying kids.
Oh and I have to still do that bikini shopping. Aaaaaaahhh!!!!!!

If I only I didn't have a personal "NO GIFT VOUCHERS" policy. It might change this year. Just saying.

Rockstar Living

I am making myself feel better (making excuses?) by telling myself that I'm still young, that I had to do it once and that I am a little rockstar.
Ha!
I am seriously struggling this morning.
I have pulled an all nighter. I got a phone call from Shaun Morgan (Seether) and it went like this:
SM: Blondie!
BB: You're back!!
SM: I arrived from LA last Thursday and I want to know where you're taking my manager and I.
BB: Um. Dude, I have to work tomorrow morning.
SM: And?
BB: Um...OK...

So Shaun, his manager and I went out last night. We partied up a storm, drank copious amount of alcohol and when I looked at my watch it was time to go to work. I feel like I'm dying.
STUPID STUPID STUPID.

I have never been so grateful for Red Bull, Coffee and apples. I do however, have the shakes, my eyes are feeling like someone is constantly pouring sand into my eye sockets and I basically want to curl up and die.

The life of a Rockstar. I would never cope. :-)

Naughty Naughty

I didn't go bikini shopping. I didn't have the strength physically and certainly not emotionally! LOL

I have the funniest two videos for you. EVER. I cried with laughter through these!! I just had to share them with you!
Do yourself a favour and watch them... hilarious!

Shit and Shopping.

There is NOTHING like waking up to a funky smell. If I was in a cartoon it would be like that green smoke wafting through to my nostrils and let me tell you, this smell would certainly singe nostrils hairs.
I should have woken up properly when The Garden Terrorist (aka my gorgeous dog) was restless and kept nudging my hand in the middle of the night. I just rolled over. Oh I'm so so sorry this morning. That smell woke me. I opened my sleepy eyes and out the corner of my eye I saw mounds of steamy diarroeah and vomit. The Garden Terrorist is not a small, lap dog (I've never been a fan of those that look like rats or are Paris H/handbag sized.) either. He is a monster of a dog who sleeps at the base of our bed. I wretched at the piles of shit all over the place. Oh and it's runny. Really runny.
Guess who has to clean it up? Me. My man had a plane to catch and acted like he had to rush, rush, rush.
I think I'll hang an air freshener around my nose, suck a breath mint and don gloves. Oh kill me.

Today I am going to do the thing that is dreaded by any woman who isn't a supermodel.
I could think of a few things I would rather do, like gargle with glass or perhaps I could stick toothpicks through my eyes balls.
Today I am going bikini shopping. Oh it pained me to type that. You have to try on swimwear. You just have to. But why do we have to try on swimwear in revolting, unflattering change rooms? Why oh why do stores do this to us? Revolting, bright light that shows every lump and bump and 101 mirrors so we can see ourselves in every angle. Awesome. Oh and my best? The bikini's sold as one. I can't handle that. I need a bigger top and a smaller bottom. Not both in one size. Oh no. Those beady eyed sales reps are there waiting for me.
"Sorry. You can't seperate them!" is normally whined at me.
To find one that fits and turns me into a Victoria Secret Goddess is well...I'm still looking.

I can hardly contain myself with the excitement. I now understand the purpose of the Hip Flask. I need to get sloshed so that I can drink myself pretty!

Below is the wish. Below that is most likely the reality. Kill me.


Wish me luck.

I heart Britney.

So it's no secret. You can scoff all you like.

I am a HUGE Britney Spears Fan. Now hang on, I was about 15 when she came onto the music scene, so you could say that I have grown up with her.
I adore her and I knew that the comeback would happen...yes I did. My man always rolls his eyes when another Britney song comes out.
My reaction is normally: "Aw, I love it!"
My man's is normally: "Have you ever NOT liked something Britney's done?"
Me: "She can do no wrong."
Man: "She shaved her head."
Me: "She has a pretty head."
Man: "You are ridiculous."
Me: "I heart Britney."

I can't help myself...I have all her albums and need to get her new one, Circus. I hardly contain my excitement. I'm going to pop it on the iPod and sing along on the beach. Oh yes I am.
Am I dork? Possibly.

Anyway...
Here is a video and I think it's rather sweet!

I'm done.

I am exhausted. Done. Over it. I seriously need a holiday. I have finally put in leave. I can hardly wait!

I have two weeks and then I piss off down to the coast. I'm going to learn how to scuba dive and I'm going to get an overdose of Vitamin D hopefully that comes in the form of a bronzed tan.

I can't wait to smell the salty spray of the ocean, feel the beach sand between my toes and to finally be able to relax without having to worry about what I should be doing.

I am literally ticking the days off of my calendar. I'll be away from the 22nd December 2008 - 4th January 2009.

THIS is where I'm going:

PS> Thank you for your comments in my previous post - I don't know what to say really...I am just incredibly grateful for your support and kindness...I just don't know what to say other than Thank You!

I'm PHAT!

I had one of the best weekends. I'd like to say that I partied it up VIP style until I pissed champagne, but instead I didn't move. Ok wait, I did but only for three reasons.
1. To go to the loo.

2. To go to the fridge.

3. To collect deliveries of health food.

I was exhausted on Friday - well, you read below so I got home and chilled. I watched TV and finally dragged myself to bed. On Saturday morning, I showered and instead of getting dressed, I got back into my pajamas. I can't remember the last time I did that!
I didn't get out of my pajama's until Sunday evening, when I showered and then put a new pair on. Lovely. I literally sat on the couch, alternating between writing on my laptop and watching the idiot box I lovingly call the TV.
Honestly, it was just the best. No make-up, no hair products and pure laziness. God it felt good.

I received an email from a pseudonym [of course] and it hit a nerve. It really, really did. I probably shouldn't be sharing this (considering that some of you know who I am) but I have had it and my blog is my place to vent. I just need to get this out!

The email basically says (in a nutshell - because it's a few paragraphs) that they can't understand how I'm in the industry I'm in when I am not "fat" but chubby. I'm not a good role model to women who want to get into this industry and blah blah blah blah.
{It did go on to say that they love my work and that they think I'm a natural talent etc...
Um...Thank you for the backhanded compliment then .}

I am fucking hurt. I should just shrug it off, have a good laugh (maybe a little cry) and then go about my merry way.

Let me set the record straight.

I have been diagnosed with sugar intolerance. I am border line diabetic and am doing my best to not become diabetic. Basically my body doesn't know what to do with sugar and instead of turning it into energy, it turns it into fat. I am left feeling lethargic and I'm left gaining weight.
I am not obese. I am just not your skinny size 0 and quite frankly I would never want to be.

Yes. I am in an industry that is image conscience. Um...I've been in it for a few years now so that would make me well aware. I am in this industry because I love entertaining. I cannot begin to explain how much I love what I do and I can't imagine doing anything outside of the industry. I get so excited to go in, do a good job and see how I can improve myself every.single.day!
The fact that it puts me in the public is rather overwhelming for me and I don't really understand it. My man once summed it up beautifully: "This is not Hollywood. We don't have celebrities, but we do have public profiles whether you/we like it or not."

A role model? No pressure. Don't you think a role model would be someone healthy, who has goals and is hard working and ambitious? I don't quite understand...are you saying that I'm not a role model because I'm not stick thin? Well in that case. Thank God!
If you're going to use loaded words like "Role Model", well then, I'd rather be a role model for young women who want to make something of themselves regardless of how they look. I'd like young women to look at me and think: I, too can do it! I too, can dream and have those dreams come true and I don't have to look a certain way!

It is devastating to me because I have put on several kgs and I can't quite seem to fit into clothes I used to. I'm a woman and I am personally very sensitive to this. Ask one woman if weight has ever been a hang up. 99% of women have hang ups about their weight, even Heidi Klum.
Has it hurt my self esteem? Yes. Not drastically but I. am. human. Trust me, I'd love to be the size I was and I'm working at it. Weight gain is quick...weight loss takes effort and it takes time if you want it to be healthy and stay off.
It's not great hanging around skinny girls at these functions feeling like a frump, but I'll never let my weight define who I am as a person.

I am irritated that I have never had to watch what I eat...perhaps to my detriment later on in life considering I have been diagnosed with this condition; and now I am having to. I am not used to having to make a concerted effort watching what I put in my mouth and it has been a bit of a shock. I struggle with it and it is a constant battle considering that I could be the President of the Sweet Tooth Society. No more sweets, chocolate, sugar, bread and so on...

Am I making an effort though? Hell yes! I want to be healthy and I want to do my best to prevent diabetes.
I am working my ass off in gym (boxing) and I am starting pilates/yoga.

I don't need to explain myself (after all of this) but I have had it. I'm tired of being called a Blob by tabloids. Fuck off. I am a person who has feelings.
Quite frankly this email has been the most judgemental, uneducated email I have probably ever received. It hurt me to the core.
I didn't respond. In these cases: "The best response is no response" - more advice from my man

This is a stupid post but it has made me feel better. I'll probably delete it tomorrow afternoon.

Oh and I've lost 4kgs so far, so bite me!

End. Now.

I'm talking about this day.
I'm in a foul mood. I'm not a moody person either, so you must know.
Let's start. I woke up this morning and for some reason the normal morning person that I am seemed to disappear. I woke up feeling moody and absolutely shattered. I was in bed at a reasonable hour last night too so there is no proper reason. I am however, feeling the end of year and the exhaustion has hit me.
I also continued reading the Mushy Peas on Toast book and I am now officially on page 133. I cannot put it down.

I finally realised how lazy I was being (total slob actually; considering it was midday) and got up to make myself some tea. I went down to find my very own Mary Poppins (our domestic worker) standing outside with her arms folded and a sad look on her face.
Now last week, I had left R800 in an envelope on my coffee table for a payment that needed to be made. When I came the next afternoon to get the envelope, it was gone. I looked everywhere and it hasn't turned up yet. I casually asked MP if she had put the envelope that was on the coffee table anywhere. She has a tendency to bunch things together or put things in piles or move things all together. I once found our cell phone chargers tangled together in my underwear drawer..so she has a tendency to do things like this. It didn't occur to me that she had taken it. This is a woman who once phoned me to tell me she had eaten 3 Marie Biscuits from the packet. She is incredibly honest and sure, there are only 2 of us and MP so it has to be in the house somewhere.
I asked her if she had put the envelope of money somewhere or if she knew where it was. She said she hadn't. I asked her if she was sure and then continued to look myself.
Apparently she thought I was accusing her of being a thief and she was very unhappy. She started crying and I was completely perplexed. Um...
I had to calm her down and tell her that I hadn't accused her, I was merely asking if she had put it somewhere else like she does with my post, my necklaces and earrings, my chargers, my car keys etc...
She was so upset because she thought that we were cross with her and she didn't want us to think that she had taken it. So I had to reassure her and she assured me that she would look thoroughly.
I know I'm going to sound like an insensitive bitch right now, but
a) I wasn't in the mood for this.
b) I don't know how money can disappear when it is only my man and I, but I know deep down she didn't take it.
She's a sensitive little Mary Poppins, that's for sure. I felt even more exhausted after that.

I then realised that I had to go to the bank before they close. Yay. My favourite.
I rushed off and strangely enough had to stand in long, winding queues. I was getting annoyed because people clearly don't use deodorant and I couldn't breathe, this woman in front of me kept chewing a large piece of chewing gum really loudly. She kept smacking it with her lips and popping it with her teeth. I wanted to smack her on the lips and make her teeth fall out. Nicely.
I finally got the front of the queue to deposit and draw and they told me that I was going to have to go to that queue over there. I looked at where this woman was pointing and felt my heart sink. That queue was double the queue I had just been sitting in. I finally got to the front of that one and there was a problem with something or other and I was going to have to come back tomorrow. I burst into tears. I actually couldn't believe it and had one of those out of body moments where I was looking back at myself saying: "Oh my God. You are crying and you're not even being discreet. Jesus. People are staring at you. Oh shit - look at you...you're blubbering now. Why are you crying anyway?"
Thing was, the more I knew I should hold in my exhaustion and frustration, the more I couldn't hold back the tears. The poor Indian man looked at me with absolute horror. He handed me a tissue and I blew my nose too. I am not dainty when I blow my nose. I sound like an elephant on heat mating a fog horn. It's totally unfeminine, really loud and attention grabbing (not in the good way.)
The worst part? Having to hold my puffy, red head held high as I walked out of the bank and feeling the heat on my back as everyone stared after me.

I got to the office and got a call from the same Indian man, apparently I left my bank card there too and he's not working this weekend. I told him to leave it with someone reliable and I would be back to get it tomorrow. Awesome.

This weekend had better be lovely. I hate being moody and quite frankly, I don't know what's going on.

PS> I did have a good laugh just now.
"A" (who loves her blind pug and who I'm going to call Camera Girl considering she is most likely going to feature a lot. She's too funny not to.) was in the middle of a sentence when she stopped and said:
"Fuck. Sorry. Your eyes look just like beer bottles."
"What??"
"No...I mean...I've just never realised it, but they're the colour of a brown beer bottle...it's really pretty! No seriously! That clear, pretty, sparkly brown beer bottle colour."
"Like a Castle?"
"Ja. It's a good thing."
"Um..."

Tours and Waxes

It is always fascinating travelling in a car with colleagues. Especially funny and entertaining colleagues. I was with 2 of them. We were driving back to the office, when A started jumping up and down in the backseat. I have never seen someone get so excited about driving through the area she lives in.
"Oooh oooh ooooh! My house is down there. Aww, we could always blow this and go and have tea and cake at my house instead. Who is keen? My pug would love it."
G and I looked back and packed up laughing. "Your pug would love it?"
"Well she's blind, but I know she would. Seriously."
We continued to get a quick tour.
"This is my hood, people. Seriously don't mock it. Oooooh, I had my first snog there and I vomitted into those pot plants...right...THERE! My ex ex ex lives down that road. My friend Michelle lives three roads down from that. Ooooh, I've egged that house. Hated her. She deserved the egg throwing and plant pinching episode. I used to live down that street..."
And so it went on. I think G was watching her from the rear view mirror and I was literally in hysterics. She was so excited about this and kept showing us arb places and things. Emmerentia and Greenside will never be the same for me ever again.

Blondie 2 and I spoke about waxing last night. We waxed lyrical I guess, about the painful ripping of hairs. Blondie 2 totally digs it. I would rather dive into a vat of boiling oil. OK. Maybe not, but that is how it feels. If I can avoid it, I will. We got talking about cookie waxing. I know. Girls!
Blondie 2 is obsessed with it. I had a painful experience and told her as much.
B2: "Obviously your first time is going to be sore. It's like sex. The more you do it, the less and less painful it becomes."
BB: "Nice. I still hate it. I mean seriously. How embarrassing. All my life to spread my legs for a female stranger who wants to chit-chat while spreading wax and momentarily ripping the Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh out of me."
B2: "Oh please. Seen one; seen them all. Besides, she's probably been doing this for years and she's going to be waxing 20 more cookies that day."
BB: "And that is what I'm afraid of. There is no beautician confidentiality code...I'm sure they all sit there chatting about them. Like: 'Oh my God. You should have seen this one...' you know?"
B2: "You have issues. No c'mon, it's great. Besides, I have to go. I haven't waxed in, like, 6 weeks and they are probably out to here!"
She indicated the length and I nearly fell off my chair.
BB: "Holy shit chick. WTF? Impossible...I mean, sure...if you're ghd-ing your pubes!"
That was it. We were hysterical over the mental images.

What happened yesterday...

My sister is a culinary genius. I have never eaten such delicious Indian food in ages. It would actually put Indian restaurants to shame. I'm talking about my sister making her very own samoosas (who does that??) Indian rice, curry and Indian sweets from scratch.
There are 2 problems. The first problem is that I have to kill her now because I'm going to have to do an extra hour of cardio now. The second problem is that I will never be able to invite her around for dinner now, unless she has no problem with toasted cheese!

Oh and that reminds me. I have been manic today rushing around town to various meetings, listening to people who drone on and repeat themselves trying to explain what they would like me to do at their function and then smile like I'm the idiot. I even had the question of: "So, um...you're sure you can do this, huh?"
I should have said something like: "Oh my God. Are you sure? I mean I've never ever done this before...ever." Just to completely scare the shit out of them.
I'm always amazed. Um...you hired me for your function... why would you suddenly be questioning whether I can do something or not....um??
I had so much to do today and I felt like screaming: "Alright already!! I get it! Can we move the F&%# on? Time is money people; let's GO!"
Instead of either option, I smiled, nodded and assured them that everything would be just fine and their function would be just great.

I finally managed to race off to Woolies to look for the dress I saw in the catalogue. I need it for this function, you see? Anyways, there I am looking for dresses (in a major rush) and found a whole rack of gorgeous dresses. I started looking for my size in these dresses, holding them up, pressing them against my body (quick mental try on) and then folded a few options (not one of them was in the catalogue...in case you're wondering) over my arm to buy them. I turned around and bumped straight into a friend from school I haven't seen in over a year. We got chatting and I was wondering why she kept looking at me so strangely...strangely as in a small smile and a look in her eyes that I didn't quite get. I finally got what that look and smile was all about. I was standing in the Maternity section. How did I NOT see the sign? It was huge and had a lovely glowing woman standing with her manicured hands on her huge belly on it.
There go the rumours.

I went through to support Mushy Peas on Toast for her book launch last night. I think it is an amazing thing to have accomplished and I heard that she always wanted to have a book published before 30! Well done babe!! I am so impressed and uber proud!! I had a jol too with you and the gang ; although I wasn't loving you guys this morning after those G & T's. I got to meet a few bloggers last night and it is always fascinating and fun. Chester Pillow was actually the person I cursed this morning...my head was feeling just lovely after the G&T's. It was fun Ches...thanks dude!
I got home last night and read your book until my eyes literally closed (admittedly I only read for 15 minutes) and the book hit the ground, ultimately waking me up. I am on Chapter 2 and I'm loving it! Sheer entertainment!
Well done Peas...I am definitely a GROUPEA and I have put an order out because all my gal pals are getting your book for Christmas :-)

Positively negative.

It's World AIDS Day today and our company arranged for confidential testing to be done for those who would like to know their status.
It takes 5 minutes and you get your results within a few minutes. It's amazing actually. So Blondie 2 and I went down stairs to get the test done. As we're waiting to go in with the nurse, we both looked at each other with the look of: Good grief...why are we doing this? I mean sure: "Know your status" sounds cool...but how cool could it be if it turned out to be positive?
Which WOULDN'T be a very positive thing at all.
I suddenly felt my mouth go very dry, my heart was pulpitating and my hands were sweating. My mind felt like it was on steroids too. Could I be? Oh dear God. It's not really possible, but then again... How do you get HIV again? I mean, I know this piece of knowledge, but at the time it dissappeared. I know I was on Anti- Retroviral Drugs for 2 weeks about 5 years ago because I helped a man in a car accident and got his blood all over my hands, which I discovered had open cuts on them from the glass in the car. That was a freak out. I had to wait like 2 days for the results and didn't sleep much. They also told me that I should be tested 6 months later to double check, but I never did. Forgot about it. SHIIIIT!!!
Well, that little piece of information popped into my head today and I sat there going: Oh shit. WTF!! What if.. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. The sex thing isn't possible considering my man and I are practically married. BUT...what if he's been.....Nah!!!
Oh dear God, hurry up nurse let's just do this. So I go in, get my finger pricked, drop the droplet of blood onto what looks like a pregnancy test. She then gets me to fill out a bunch of forms for confidentiality etc... I kept looking at it, so she took it away and put it on the seat next to her. Um...surely 5 minutes have been and gone. Nope. Only 2 minutes had passed. She gave me pamphlets on how to lead a safe life etc... and all I could think was: "Shit. She's seen the result and now she's trying to council me. Crap. Why did I do this again? Yes. It's good to know your status. It is right? Oh c'mon already. Just give it to me."
She finally took the test off the seat and told me to take a deep breath. She was enjoying this. Melodramatic Sadist.

My drink got spiked on Friday night. At dinner. Awesome. My sister, Blondie 2 and I were given a shot of Rasberry Vodka by the owner and 15 minutes later we were feeling completely plastered. We had drank one glass of sangria each. That was it. It was awful. We felt ill, plastered, heavy limbs and by the time we got home Blondie 2 and I passed out on the couch. We aren't 100% sure if our drinks were spiked, but it was a horrible feeling. So that was my rivetting evening...it was over by 11pm - I think.

Going over to the family tonight...my sister is a total genius in the kitchen -she always amazes us with incredible dishes. Tonight we're going to feast on Indian food...bring on the pappadoms!