Work and play

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

I'm feeling absolutely exhausted and while you all party away the night before the public holiday, think of lil ol' me lying here trying to fall asleep because this "good girl" has work in the morning. God I've become boring. Seriously. What happened to "living on the edge?"

Who the hell knows? Miss Responsibilty is in bed early and I might as well just add a nice cup of warm milk and honey to the mix. Argh.

I've even switched my phone off because all my mates are reminding me that I'm 25 years old and being an old hag.

"Just come for one drink!"
"Yes, it sounds all lovely now, but while you sleep in; I'm getting up for a regular working day!"

"Blondieeeee!! Pull an all niiiighterrrr!!" It's amazing how the nagging always sounds whiney!

"Dude no. I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Braai at my place for National Braai Day and Heritage Day tomorrow afternoon!"

I've been through this with 5 of my mates.

Like I said. B-O-R-I-N-G!

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

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

Yawn.

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

Good night.

PS> Happy Heritage Day and Braai Day!

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

Schizophrenic Blondie... The comedian.

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

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

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

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

I have such a headache. Hate headaches, because they normally end in a migraine. Argh, I suffer badly from migraines.

Why do we do this? Why do we always say: "Don't tell anyone, but ...."
Does it make us feel better? I don't know why we say this, when we know that that person is going to tell their mate and start it with: "Don't tell anyone, but ...."
It's dreadful. I sound like a real gossip queen, don't I?
I don't mean to be, but some things are just tooo good. For the record, I never talk about anything that is detrimental or harmful or a serious secret. I am a very good secret keeper.

Human beings are weird creatures. We are.

I don't have much to blog about - it's the headache. Perhaps I shouldn't have even wasted a post. Everyone yawn with me.