Gadgets for Blondes

My man was away for the evening on business, so Blondie 2 invited me to the south. I know. Luckily I had my passport in my bag. So, off I went to "va souf!"
You know, just a regular girls slumber party complete with pillow fights, lingerie and heels.
Kidding.

She has this new gadget called MVix or something like that! It's an extra hardware type of thingy-majig that hooks up to the TV. You can upload movies, tv series, video's, photo's, mp3's etc...it's brilliant. Right, so it's still in the box and it's Operation Set Up. We had all the cables plugged in and it didn't work. Blondie 2 was looking at the manual (girls use these) and kept shaking her head.
B2: "I don't get it! Everything is plugged in properly!"
BB: "Yes, but is it the plug point at the wall switched on?"
B2: "Of course it is. The lamp is working."
BB: "The extension cord isn't plugged in properly."
B2: "Yes it is."
BB: "No it isn't!"
She pressed the plug in harder and voila! Seriously, the joke: "how many blondes does it take to screw in a light bulb?" should become: "how many blondes does it take to get a gadget to work and how long does it take?"
We sat for 10 minutes trying to figure this one out and we're smart girls. Don't laugh. We are. Really.

Have more to post...but running out of time - you know, deadlines and annoying stuff that always seems to get in the way of blogging. How rude!

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...

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.
Um...
Nope.
"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."
"Seriously?"
"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.

That's what SHE said!!

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

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

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

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

Madiba Magic

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

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

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

Sigh

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

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

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

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

Have a good weekend x

Ow part 2 and assholes

I really apologise for going on about this, but seriously...for most of you who do exercise you had to have gone through this once before!
This is all completely new for me. 1 word: AGONY.
Ok, let's be realisitic 2 words: FUCKING AGONY!!
Apparently, day 2 is the worst day for lactic acid and I am the walking...no...hobbling billboard for that!
If you see someone in pain, hobbling around (sans bandages) , it's probably me.
It's not a nice pain, it's not an itchy pain, it's fucking agony.
BUT...I clearly am sadistic...I'm back to boxing tomorrow!
No pain; no gain.

The excitement of the day? I got some excellent news career wise, but it means that I am going to have to go back to blonde. I was "sold" as a blonde and now the brunette thing won't work.
No. I am not standing on street corners. Although...with this economy of ours, it is tempting!
I have some time to get back to blonde which is great. I'm going to do it gradually so that I'm not bald by 30.

Last night Special K, Springchicken and I went for some dinner. We were literally kicked out and weren't quite ready to go, so we went to Cubana.
I saw these 2 oldish yucky men standing at the bar. They were perving. Seriously disgusting. I held my breath as the one guy started to approach our table and then walked straight past!
As he walked past again he poked Special K on the head, quite hard. She spun around and glared at him. "What are you doing?"
"Just trying to get your attention gorgeous." He had serious attitude and his eyes were creepy.
"Well that was very sore. Don't poke my head!"
"You know? There are some things I like about you and some things I don't."
"Great! Now could you please leave us alone!"
"You have a serious sense of humour failure!"
"I don't care what you think. Now leave."
"You know? With an attitude like that you are going to be a very lonely woman!"
"My husband doesn't seem to think so."
Guy even checks to see if she is wearing a wedding ring.
"Oh, well then all I can say is," he puts his hands together (like a prayer) and looks to the ceiling, "I'm so grateful to God that I'm not married to a bitch like you!"
When he said this, I stood up and immediately called the bouncers. He was duly escorted out!
What an absolute asshole. I couldn't believe it!

Tonight is the night I'm going to watch 1st Project. They're the most incredible band that only plays drums! They are excellent!
Can't wait!

My findings...

Is it possible that changing your hair colour changes how people treat you? For F sakes, it's just hair dye! (Sorry to go on, but this is so new for me)

I have noticed that some girls at work are treating me differently. It's not that they've ever been horrible to me, but it's always been a polite hello and a few pleasantries and that's about it.
All of a sudden, they're super friendly, cracking jokes and complimenting me.
I think it's "racist" towards blondes! Haha!

Before I say this...I'd like it to be noted that: I do not notice often unless it's BLATANT and I do not thrive on it either.
Good. With that out the way; I have noticed that men do not "check me out" as much. The ones that do are all mediterranean though. Weird.

People still don't recognise me and I've noticed how fickle my industry is.
I arrived at a venue for a birthday dinner. They had comedians there and the entrance fee was R50. Perfect.
I opened my wallet and noticed I only had R40 and not enough coins to make up the other R10.
As I looked up to ask if they had a debit card facility, I noticed the owner of the comedy club standing behind the door lady. I know him quite well, so obviously I smiled at him and greeted him. He looked at me as if to say: "Sweetheart, you can smile all you like but that's not getting you in for free."
It was so blatant and I started laughing, "Oi! Mister...it's me! Blondie!"
He did such a double take and immediately changed his attitude, "Oh!! Blondie!!! I didn't recognise you...come in; come in!!"
Fickle.

Being brunette has been fascinating. I am still having more blonde moments than ever before.
This morning I walked into work. The same door I have walked through for years now. It wouldn't open. Is it locked? I knock on the door and I am struggling to open it. I look at people who are seriously amused. WTF is going on here? Am I being Punk'd? Is Ashton Kutcher going to pop out from a taxi and rush at me with 5 camera men? And if that is the case, thanks Murphy's for not allowing me to look fucking sensational...you know, blow waved hair, perfect make-up artist applied make-up, dressed in a cute, sexy and slimming outfit.
No camera men or Ashton. Pity.
Just Blogshell pushing and pushing on the door...pushing on a door for 1 minute...pushing on a door that had the largest PULL sign on it.
Fabulous.

I'm going to the Jozi Comedy Festival at Monte Casino tonight and I'm super excited! Hooray!

I'm also going to party my weekend away with Blondie 2 (or does she become Blondie 1 now?) and Special K, my man and my twin.
Woohoo!!
Oh yes and I'm loving Wimbledon tennis!! I am so excited for the weekend!

Have a wicked one!

2nd blog of the day -aren't you lucky? Ha!

Well, it seems I am having MORE blonde moments than ever before. Is that possible? A-ha! I have just uncovered a conspiracy theory. It's the BRUNETTES who are actually the ones palming off their silliness on blondes. I'm onto you!
Seriously, is it possible?
The funny thing is that mentally I am still blonde, right, so there I am doing silly things and shouting out: "Oh well, I'm blonde!"
People who haven't known me before look at me like I'm a little strange...or colour blind.
Odd.

I finished work this morning and went up to visit the gals in marketing. They're brilliant, fun, quirky and a bag of laughs! I have great relationships with them and we all speak to each other fabulously, like: "What's happenin' sexy biatches?"
As you do.

I eventually got out of work and went home. As I got home my phone rang and it stated that it was Private Number (I never answer these, well, hardly ever.)
BB:"Blogshell hello?"
Redd: "Hi Blogshell, it's Redd!"
BB: "Hey you sexy lady!"
Silence.
BB: "What's up biatch?"
Silence.
BB: "Hello?"
Redd: "I think you have the wrong person. This is Redd....your boss."
They share the same bloody name and I had Redd from marketing on the brain.
I wanted to die. I wanted to cancel the call and hope like hell Groundhogs day actually exists.

I'm back at work now and have a birthday party to go to tonight. I can't drink though because I'm back at work tomorrow at 04h30.
I cannot tell you how fun that is in winter!

Blondie is Brownie

I don't know if I'm allowed to be the Blonde Blogshell anymore. I went to the hairdresser yesterday to basically touch up my blonde highlights and walked out a brunette. A deep dark chocolate brunette. I was quiet the entire time the dye was being applied. My stomach was a knot, but I kept reminding myself it's just hair colour.
I will never touch my length ever again and I've been a little bored of my blonde...and yet...I've never been brave enough.
I bit the bullet and did it. I mean it's not like I'm going all Britney Spears and shaving my head or chopping the lot off... it's just brunette.
I sobbed. Oh did I cry. I cried when I tried so hard not to. I had my hairdresser looking at me, his assistant and the other patrons all looking at me, while my lip quivered, the lump in my throat rose and my eyes watered. Eventually my face just crumpled and I ended up crying! It was such a shock to see and it's not that I don't like it, I just have to get used to it. I'm so used to seeing light blonde hair around my face...for 25 years...that seeing dark was...WEIRD!!

I really have to get used to it.

Don't have much to blog at the moment... no real news... but hey... here's my rivetting post!!

Love Brownie

PS> I'm finally going to find out: Do Blondes really have more fun??

Scary stuff...

Midnite Gem and Supanova mentioned that the "ghosts" in my house could be homeless people living in my ceiling. (See the previous posts comments.)

It got me thinking about how clever my man was, once upon a time.

I used to live on my own, in a tiny shoebox of a garden cottage, but it was beautiful and it was the first place I lived in when I moved out of home.

The ironic thing was that even though it was my place, I would stay over at my boyfriends house at least 5 nights a week. Ridiculous.

I decided that I should really enjoy my little cottage and decided to stay at home more often. One evening, I went over to my mans house for dinner and DVD's.

I have a love/hate relationship with horror movies. I love watching them at the time, even if I admittedly watch them through my fingers.

I hate them afterwards. I hate having to go down dark passages as my mind just plays tricks on me. I'm always convinced something hideous, gooey and blood sucking is going to be waiting for me behind doors or in closets.

We watched the Grudge. Now some people may think it was pathetic, but I screamed in Scream, so please understand that I am the biggest baby when it comes to Horrors.

That horrible sound the white faced child made was awful and so when it was time for me to go home, he followed me to make sure I got home safely etc etc (South Africa, people.)

My phone started ringing and it showed up as private number. I answered and all I heard was that horrible sound the white faced child made, followed by my man's laugh.

"Stooppp it!!! You're so mean!!" I put the phone down. He had given me such a fright.

He phoned again.

"What?" I spat out.

"Look behind you...in your back seat!" he whispered.

I nearly drove off the road at this point. I have one of those easy-to-scare personalities and I'm a jumpy person, just to make matters worse.

I was so freaked out that when I got home, I made him check my cottage, under the bed, behind the shower curtain and inside my closet.

As he got into his car, he said this: "You know, baby, I've looked in your closet, but I don't really know what your shoes look like. Your shoes could be neatly stacked there with your clothes hanging up and someone could be standing there. Their shoes could just look like a pair of your trainers."

I slept over at him that night.

See why I say he's clever?

Bugger.

I got to meet the Counting Crows today. They're awesome.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. I'm spring cleaning in winter and I'm celebrating birthdays and drinking champagne. Yay!

Have a great weekend!! x

My diary got exposed...on the internet!

I spent two hours washing dishes today. My fingers were so prune-like and I just cannot believe two of us managed to use so many dishes within in 48 HOURS!!

Disgusting we didn't wash up for that long but hey...shit happens. It was horrible.

I may be scarred...for life.

I got a sneak preview/listen of the new Prime Circle album today. Ross came around to our place this morning with the album and I am blown away! I am just so excited to see how well this album does...it is a slightly different sound to their previous albums...it's very international and I am in love with the tracks!

Fantastic!

We have farewell drinks for one of the guys in Sales tonight and I'm scared...very scared...it's going to be dangerous!

Have a great night!!

xxx