I have a suggestion. Amen.

If you see a blonde trying to walk. It's me. I either look like I've pulled something or like I've had an amazing night of passion. Maybe... oh never mind.
I've actually just outdone myself in boxing class. No seriously. I cannot walk properly and I did class this morning. Imagine how I'm going to feel tomorrow morning. Good grief. We did 280 lunges today and as many squats. Ok? So you understand now. Stairs take a good 5 minutes and trying to sit on the loo is one hell of an experience. I have to literally hold onto the walls and slide down onto the toilet. Sorry for the TMI, but seriously, you don't understand my pain!
I have been stretching and it's still sore. I don't think I'm going to be able to walk tomorrow.
Whoever said: "No pain, no gain" should be shot. Really. I hate that they're right!

I had sushi lunch today with Special K and Boxing Girl. We were bitching about that very saying. I mean, life is generally hard. Can't their be something easy? No really. I spoke hypothetically (well, I guess thats pretty obvious) about being giving an option before we're born. Imagine if we were given a clipboard with various options we could tick off, before we were born. The Clipboard would say:

Life is hard, so I'm giving you a break. Tick one.

I'd tick this one:

#16.) Staying healthily skinny (within you height) will be effortless. You will be allowed to eat as many carbs, chocolates and other bad stuff as often as you like without so much as a kg nearing your thighs, stomach and hips.

I don't know...I think that would be fair. Each individual could tick off whatever it is that they never want to think about or have to put so much effort into.

Boxing Girl and Special K think I'm totally nutters and said things like: Breathing is easy.
That doesn't count. But thank you Lord because that would totally suck if we had to think about doing that all the time.

I thought my idea was genius. I'm letting G know about it...perhaps He can look into it for the future. Just a suggestion.

Hurling Heritage Day

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

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

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

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

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

* I sound like a pimp. Niiiice.

The Weekend Jig

The weekend has arrived and I have never been more excited! I'm literally doing "The Weekend Jig."
It's cutting edge and I'm just waiting for the right party to debut it. Move aside Macarena!
I don't have anything remarkable happening, no debauchery again (here's hoping) but I'm just glad I get to catch up on sleep and watch the Rugby tomorrow!
I am so thrilled.

I really enjoy eavesdropping. I know it shouldn't be done, but let's face it...we all love a good ear full. I find it fascinating and quite frankly it makes me feel normal.

My man took me for a sushi lunch today and there was a table next to us (as there should be in a restaurant) with 3 guys at it. They were dressed in business suits and must have been in their early 30's.
The convo went like this:
Sunglasses dude: "I really am not sure what to do with my weekend. I am supposed to be seeing Holly but Bianca is bugging me to go out with her. Maybe I should do them both."
Laptop dude hi-5's Sunglasses dude. "Why not? Awesome! Holly is hot, but Bianca has a great pair."
Brightly-coloured-tie dude: "I am supposed to be going to my mom just now at 4pm. She's finished all my washing and ironing and I need to pick it up. Where are we watching the rugby tomorrow?"
The waiter then came to take our order and I missed the rest of the conversation but I was literally gobsmacked and yet I do wonder why I am at all surprised.
Here is this guy (a grown man) in a business suit, looks like he's doing well for himself, and yet his mom is doing his washing and ironing!
DUDE!!
Do these men still exist?

Here is my to do list for the weekend:

• Catch up with sleep
• Watch the rugby at friends
• Visit the parentals
• Watch the Series channel tonight...for all the reality TV shit, I hate to admit I enjoy.
• See Surfer Girl
• Sleep
• Continue with the clearing/cleaning of the garage
• Organise my wardrobe
• Sleep

Rivetting, huh?

I personally, cannot wait!! :-)

Chopstick drama

Sushi is a wonderful thing, isn't it? I mean if your food arrives first you don't need to be worried about it getting cold, it's bite size and filling! YUMMY!

I must admit though, I am a loser when it comes to using chop sticks. I can't do it. I break out into a cold sweat when everyone picks them up, breaks them apart and expertly folds their fingers over them so they make a clicking sound. They also manage to keep the sushi perfectly together without any mess or fuss.

I on the other hand, am lucky to get one piece into my mouth at all, I either drop it (with soya sauce) on my lap before it enters my mouth or I lose grip while it's in the soya sauce and then it makes it even harder to pick up when it's all soggy and falling apart.

I think my use of chopsticks made me stress on the night of my Matric Dance. The Grade 11's (Std. 9's) were responsible for the theme of ours, decorating the hall etc etc. It was a beautiful theme: Night of the Rising Sun. It was symbollic too, as matrics, we would go out into the real world and rise in success! Sweet, right?

Not when the food was served. Now a lot of girls don't eat at their matric dance, firstly some dresses are skin tight and the idea of eating and bloating isn't pretty. Secondly, if you're messy/clumsy like I am, it's not a good idea to eat when you know half of it is going to land on your gorgeous, stain-attracting dress!

The food (keeping with the theme) was chinese. There were no knives and forks, just those lovely pieces of wood. Well, the food looked so good and I admittedly was starving so I attempted to eat the food with chopsticks. Not clever.

Today I was invited to lunch at a sushi place. The Rainbow rolls, california rolls and fashion sandwiches came out and I wanted to see if UV would use hers. Of course she did!

I unwrapped the paper, snapped them apart and mixed my wasabi into my soya sauce. I picked up a California roll and impressed myself. After a while though, I couldn't keep it together. Eventually I put them down and just used my fingers. Bad move. Do not sit next to an Asian family and use your fingers. Apparently it is a sign of disrespect and let's just say I should be a pile of ashes right now from the burning looks I received.

It was yummy though. Mmmm!

PS> Still loving the Laptop!

PPS> I do realise how absolutely random this post is, but life is a little boring at the moment so I have to find things to amuse me! Right...off I go to stalk your blogs! ;-)