Sorry for TMI, but hey...whatever.

What a couple of days I've had. Goodness. I was nearly arrested yesterday and today I have spent a good few hours in the doctors room, to sort out the wonderful sensation that feels like I'm pissing a combination of rusty razor blades and shattered glass.

Let me start with yesterday. After a fairly chilled out weekend, I was driving to meet up with Twin for breakfast when I drove smack bang into a road block. Ok, I didn't literally drive into it, but you know what I mean.
Now, I still have not got my drivers license or ID book since it was stolen in my Smash and Grab. Not for the lack of trying, let me tell you, but please don't get me started on Home Affairs or the Traffic Departments.
So, there is little Blogshell driving on her merry way looking forward to a Sunday brunch of poached eggs, bacon and coffee.
Ha!
I suddenly saw the traffic and thought there was an accident up ahead but the blue flashing lights turned into a road block and I honestly shat myself. I tried the postive thoughts like:
Please don't stop me.
They're not going to stop me.
I'm going to sail straight through with a smile and a wave.
Don't stop me.
PLEASE don't stop me.
Oh My God, what if they stop me?
They won't stop me.
This went on and on and I pleaded with the universe even more desperately, the closer I edged to the front.
The Metro cop waved me on and I nearly blew kisses when I realised that he was actually waving at me to pull over. My heart sank.
My license disc has also not been attached to my window purely because I don't have a sticker-thingy so the piece of paper sits on my passenger seat.
I'm already making excuses for this ; already on a losing streak. The conversation went like this...word for word, this will be forever tattooed into my mind.
"Can I have your license please?"
"Yes, um, about that...well..um...I was smash and grabbed and it was stolen."
"Ah madam. You are not serrrious! Ah madam, but now? Show me your ID book."
"Well, that was stolen too. I can show you my passport, it's the only form of identification I have. It's in the boot of my car. I don't leave my bag lying around here anymore."
I step out, get my bag, hand him my passport.
"Ah, but now? Where is your Affidavit to prove you have a case number and that your license was stolen?"
"Huh? I wasn't given one. Didn't even think of that to be completely honest."
"Ah, you are lying! You lie to me this day!"
"I promise you right now I was smash and grabbed and I do have a valid drivers license. I got it when I was 19. I've had it for 6 years now."
"Madam, you cannot prove this! Please step out of your vehicle!"
"Why? Um..." I get out and he calls the female Metro officer over in his African language.
The woman told me she was going to search me. I couldn't believe it! My voice started to wobble and I wanted to know why.
"We have to arrest you." The male officer said.
"WHAT?? Oh. My. God! You can't arrest me! I can't have a criminal record. I'm a victim of crime! I can't be arrested!"
"We have no way of proving you own a license."
"Wait, wait...you can phone the Douglasdale police station and get my case number. You'll see I'm not lying - it's all stated there!"
He took his handcuffs off his waist belt and I saw my future flash before my eyes. Poof went my clothes; instead ugly prison outfits flashed across my eyeballs. Poof went my 2.4 children (or whatever the stat is), handsome husband, golden retriever and home in a gated community; instead I wondered if my overweight hairy sweaty prison cellmate would want to spoon at night in a teeny tiny dark and damp cell.
Eventually I managed to tell them I would personally drive over (with them if they wanted) and get the case number and Affidavit.
They agreed I could go (on my own) to the police station as long as I came back. To ensure I did they took my registration number, ID number and all the good things they needed. I was almost waiting for them to take blood; a urine sample and eyeball scan, they were so thorough!
I shat myself.
I went to the police station, got the bloody piece of paper and case number and drove back. They took my name off the system so that I wouldn't be arrested.
I wept. In the safety and "privacy" of my car of course.
I need to get my drivers license immediately!

This morning I woke up and felt like I had the mother of all pee's on board. I was absolutely bursting. Sorry for TMI, but hey...whatever.
I went to the loo, as you do, when you feel the desperate call of nature screaming at you. No gush....just a small trickle. A small but excruciating trickle. Oh. Fuck.
Bladder Infection. How? No idea.
The whole morning I kept feeling as if I was desperate to wee and dreaded going for that burning trickle to bring on a bead of cold sweat on my forehead, goosebumps and a clenched face.
I sat in the doctors rooms waiting to see the doc while I had spluttering kids with runny noses and coughs that could rival Great Danes around me.
Breathing on me.
I sat, clenched legs, wishing the doctor would hurry the fuck up. Finally I got to hop up for a urine sample and to lie on my doctors bed for her to prod and poke my kidneys and tummy.
She gave me a 2 page script (I have so many pills to take, that if you shake me;I'll rattle) and told me that one of the pills would give me instant relief.
Yes, yes, yes!!!!!!!!!
I wanted to kill. Perhaps I would have been arrested. Thank goodness we can't be arrested for our thoughts.
The queue at the Pharmacy was ridiculous and the pharmacists took their sweet time!
I needed to pee/trickle sooo badly and now I couldn't. It was making me break out in a new sweat.
I finally got through to the front and waited for the stupid pharmacist to s-l-o-w-l-y decipher my doctors handwriting...OK, well maybe she's not stupid if she can decode that and well, yes, she is a pharmacist...but seriously lady, I. am. in. pain. Hurry. up. before. I. force. feed. you. lethal. doses. of. pills.
She took 15 minutes to fill my script. No exaggeration. I watched the clock behind her head purely because if I looked directly at her I may have turned her into ashes.

I feel much better now...I'm much calmer and there's no urge to pee every 5 seconds and the passing rusty razor blades/shattered glass sensation seems to have died down too.

Note to self: Blogshell, don't have natural child birth. You will never survive the pain.

Don't talk to me...talk to my lawyer!

I am suing Veet Hair Removal. I can't really, but I followed every instruction. I bought that cream you can use in the shower. I even did the bloody test patch...who actually does that?
I do. Nothing happened. I then applied it all over my legs and waited to see if I could feel any tingling. Nothing. I blissfully shower away and after 6 minutes I started washing it off.
I have had such an allergic reaction to this stuff, my legs look as if I've been stung by a million bees. It is so sore that I can't even put pants on, so unfortunately I am wearing a dress today and having to show off my red rash.
Fuckers.
So that's the thing...I can't sue them even though I followed the instructions. How would I prove that?
Fuckers.
God it's sore!

On a lighter less painful note, I am really enjoying the sunshine we're experiencing in Joburg. It's beautiful. My right arm is actually a little tanned from all the driving I've been doing.
Hooray. I am done with winter. I've had it. If I get one more static shock I'm going to lose it. I am practically bathing in body butter yet I am so dry it is disgusting. Nice and flaky. I have had enough of drowning my lips in Elizabeth Arden's 8 hour cream and still having unkissable dry, chapped lips. Enough now! *Sorry Elizabeth Arden....*
However, when winter does eventually end I'm going to have to reveal my white-see-through skin and those comfortable clothing layers will disappear. Hmmm...although, for the first time in um, well, 25 years I've been sticking to this health regime so hopefully I'll be bikini ready. Hopefully.

I was really good. I didn't devour prawns and took a note out of your book. Clearly most of you are health bunnies! Share your secrets!! How do you do it?
I ate grilled lemon and black pepper chicken with gem squash and peas. How good am I?
*Blogshell pats herself on the back.*
This week alone I have been to boxing 3 times, tomorrow will make it 4 times.

It's the weekend peeps! I am celebrating my heritage today and I'm very excited about it! Big celebrations.
I am also really excited about this weekend...have big parties ahead and it should be scandalous and fabulous!
ENJOY!!

I kissed a girl....

Prime Circle raised the bar for our local bands and musicians! I felt (unbiasedly) as if I was watching an International act!
The stage, visuals, lighting and special affects was world class and they totally outdid themselves!
I didn't throw panties. I did sing along to every song and I rocked out.
We all went to the Protea Hotel for the "After Party" and it was so great to chill out with the guys, catch up with people I haven't seen in ages and get a little raucous with Jaegerbombs.
All my gal pals and I kept singing and dancing to the song: I Kissed a Girl by Katy Perry.
I adore the song. Is that a bad thing? Does it make us lesbians? Nope. I danced and shouted out the lyrics and now I have that song stuck in my head.
"I kissed a girl,and I liked it. The taste of her cherry chapstick. I kissed a girl, just to try it. I hope my boyfriend don't mind it."
la la la la la la la

I am relieved I didn't have a boxing class this morning because I wouldn't have made it! I didn't wake up with a hangover, thank God, but I do feel exhausted. I cannot get to bed at 3am and expect a fresh start in the morning. It's weird how that happens.
*Yawn*

I'm seriously craving prawns. I just want to dunk those little buggers in garlic, lemon-butter sauce.
What is up with this? Ever since I started on my get-healthy-by-eating-right-and-exercising-so-you-can't-move regime, I have been craving all things bad. Like the above.
Although, I'd like to meet someone who actually craves brocolli, brussel sprouts, grilled or boiled chicken etc.
I'll hate them instantly. There will be a serious injustice in the universe.

Number One Fan! Yes. I. am!

The day has arrived. I am so excited that I just can't contain myself. I am jumping up and down like a school girl, I have even curled me hair.

It is the Prime Circle CD Launch tonight and I am going. Oh yes I am.
Here's the thing. A little embarrassing... I feel like such a groupie. I have listened to their new album over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over ...well, you get the idea.
I know every single lyric. Every one.
I am going to outsing everyone. I. cannot. wait.
I am very proud to be a supporter don't get me wrong, but these guys are my mates. My drinking pals, my braai buddies and for me to be jumping up and down screaming like a crazed fan, is not, well, cool.
I am even thinking of throwing a pair of knickers...clean ones... maybe crotchless, onto the stage and then I'll look behind me as if I'm wondering who threw them.
Ooooh, maybe I should throw granny panties onto the stage...in cream or beige. How about a maternity bra? Sexy.

Anyways, back to Prime Circle. I know I'm going to embarrass myself, but hey, I'll blame it on being a really really GREAT friend by being such a loyal supporter!

I am going to go crazy. I'm going to jump up and down with my fingers in that rock position, my wolf-whistle/concert whistle is ready and I'm going to annoy everyone around me by pulling on their hair and clothes or I'll be tapping them on the arm in absolute urgency, declaring that:
a) "This is my favourite song!"
b) "No wait...THIS is my favourite song!"
c) "Oh. My. God!!!! I looooove this song!!!"

Good times ahead!

A list about me...aren't you lucky? Haha! *Kidding*

I haven't really had anything to post about. Sorry. I've been boring, what can I say?

Still don't have anything exciting to post.
Went to look at a new car today...it's gorgeous and has that lovely new smell. It's a french, I adore it and they've given me a great deal. It freaks me out. My original, first car is completely paid off and I have not had car repayments in years. To add that to my monthly budget is crazy.
BUT...I deserve it! I do.
I'm going to see if my bank manager will allow me to break the bank.

I am working my ass to the bone at work and in the boxing ring. I feel great. Healthy, full of energy and my muscles are definitely letting me know they exist!
I think that's why I'm also not blogging as much. I'm working seriously hard at work and haven't had much time to blog!
I saw Ruby's blog and decided I too should do this for my lack of exciting things to write about!

I am.....Weasel! Haha! I amuse myself.
I know......what E=MC2 means. Kidding.
I want......an incredibly sexy, toned and fabulous, fit and healthy body.
I wish.......I could take a pill that would get me the above instantly.
I hate........my apple shaped bod.
I miss...........my granny!
I fear........being raped and I'm not a fan of the dark or large hairy spiders either.
I feel.........the keyboard keys under my fingertips
I smell.......my perfume.
I hear......my radio playing adverts.
I crave..........prawns.
I search.....on google.
I wonder......why I never landed up with Paris Hilton's bank balance
I regret......
I love....my man, my friends, my family and prawns.
I ache.......all over. Damn exercise...just wait...Paris Hilton is going to wish she had my bank account after I create that pill that will give me an instantaneous fabulously toned body.
I am not.......going to eat the last sour worm, Blondie 2. I promise!
I dance......in my car. I'm amazing at it and I'm just waiting for people to catch up and dance along. We could create our own musical on the roads.
I sing......in the shower and in the car. I AM Mariah Carey.
I cried last........week...but you should have seen the other guy.
I fight.......in the ring. You really should see the other guy.
I write....blogs, gift cards and grocery lists.
I win.....very rarely. Although I did win BACK my very own raffle cake when I was in primary school at our Cake and Bake sale. I bought one ticket and won. My poor mother thought no one had bought tickets and that was why I was bringing it back!
I lose........my car keys and things I need in a hurry when I'm late.
I am never.........too busy for someone in need.
I always.....wear matching underwear.
I listen....properly. There is nothing worse than talking and having no one really HEAR you!
I can usually be found.....at work, out partying, in coffee shops or curled up on the couch.
I need........love, light and laughter.
I am happy.......most of the time. I am a very positive person, but I'm human and have my bad days too.
I imagine....a world with no crime. Yes, sure. Scoff at me. I am serious. Imagine it.

I am mad at...ME!

Why is it that we get 20 compliments and one negative comment, that one remark can cross out the 20 and make you feel like jumping off a building.
Just an arb little thing there...Love and hate fan mail. I truly piss myself off sometimes.

I have a hangover and not even a greasy Wimpy breakfast could act as my white surrender flag.
I also overslept and missed my boxing class, hence the greasy Wimpy breakfast. That made me feel even worse. All my agony and effort went down the drain in form of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns.
Annoyed with myself. I am mad that I drank last night (although I literally only had 4 drinks...no kidding...and I'm hungover...go figure!) and mad I missed boxed and mad I ate greasy food.

As a result of feeling oh-so-chipper and happier than Bill Gates on pay day, I am so over excited about entertaining tonight.
My dad and my man's mom is coming over for drinks tonight. My mom would join, but she's in bed with a really bad ear infection (well, it's worse than that, but I don't know the proper term.)
My idea of the perfect night would be to change into my pj's as soon as I get home, curl up in front of the TV, watch the Series channel's reality TV shows, make cups of hot chocolate and feel sorry for myself.
No such luck. He thought it would be a great idea for them to come around tonight. Great. I love seeing them, sure. Tonight? Not so much.
I now have to play hostess, be domesticated and the chances of me putting on my pj's before midnight is slim. I also have to entertain. I can't exactly sit there with a long face and mumble. Oh no. I will have to make conversation and the man and I will take turns in filling up glasses of wine, checking on food and making sure everyone is happy.
Yay for me.

I can't stop yawning either and it's really not helping me at work. *Yawn*
My head is pounding and I feel a little nauseous.

I'm having a bad day, can you tell?

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!

Ow

I have no idea why this has affected me so much but it just has. I shouldn't care, but *sigh*

When I was at university I shared classes with two girls that I became quite friendly with. We were as thick as thieves and unfortunately due to different lifestyles etc...we haven't been able to see each other as often as we'd like. Hooray for Facebook.
I remember sitting around having conversations about where our lives were going, what we thought lay ahead and who out of the 3 of us would get married and have little sprogs first.
We were in no way ready for that, but being girly girls, it was fun to sit around and daydream, wishing we could find that magic crystal ball.

We all thought that friend 1 would marry first, friend 2 would marry second and that I'd probably be last. That pissed me off a little, but whatever.

They were right. Friend 1 got married first, friend 2 got married second and NOW, I have just found out that they are both pregnant. I am so excited for both of them -this is such an incredible journey.
BUT
The worst? Getting it rubbed in my face and then being asked: "So... when are you going to get married?" and "We were right! You are the last to get married!"

It's not what I want...to be pregnant now, etc... but it's made me feel really shit. I feel bad, because I'm really pleased for them, don't get me wrong...
I don't know why this has affected me, I can't explain it, I guess my sensitivity hasn't changed! I'll get over it.

In other news, I cannot fucking walk. I look like a moron hobbling around. I cannot lower myself onto the toilet without holding onto the walls. I cannot handle the stairs that are around; there are shit loads.
I went to a boxing class this morning and guess what we were supposed to train? Legs. Fuck.
I couldn't, not from going to gym yesterday. I tried to do as much as I could before my legs let me know they were officially on strike.
We eventually hit the punching bags and did the "Magic 50".
We hit the bag once, then 1,2...then, 1,2,3 ...all the way up to 50.
We worked out that we hit the bag 1275 times. I can feel it...oooh, can I feel it! Typing this post is painful.

Ha!

Fairytales and Muffins (hopefully no more muffin tops in my jeans.)

Special K dragged me kicking and screaming, caveman style to the gym today. Have I mentioned I hate gym. No seriously. I hate the smell, I hate the sound of the circuit beep, I hate the clinking of the machines and weights. BUT, I hate the wobbly bits on my stomach that could rival a bakery with the amount of rolls I have accumulated! I hate the cellulite that could rival an orange peel and the dress sizes that seem to increasing. Argh.

Nevertheless, Blogshell here sweated her ass off (well let's hope) and worked legs. My muscles are shaking and I never really realised how many stairs there are in the world until today.

I have felt every one.

Do I feel good? Yes. Am I going to keep this up? Let's hope so. I really want to and I just need to stay motivated!

I go again tomorrow, to a class though (much better.)

I received this email, maybe you've seen it, maybe you haven't. I had to share it.

The Fairytale every woman should read: You need to click on it ( to see it I'm afraid but it's worth it.

Oh and this was too good not to share:

Last week I bought assorted muffins. I just saw what was supposed to be assorted muffins on the label and went on my merry way. It was only when I got home that my man got all googly eyed at the purchase. “Yummy! Can I have one? What type are they?”
“No you can’t, they’re for breakfast. They’re assorted.”
“Oh my God! You bought ass muffins.”
“What?”
“You bought ass muffins. Oh my God! That’s hilarious. I’m not sure I want to have one now.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“They say ass muffins on the box.”
“They do not.”
“They do! You gotta love Pick n Pay! Look!”
I bought ass muffins.

Sick of being sick.

The reason I have been quiet on the blog front is because I have been sick and let me tell you I'm sick of being sick. It's infected sinus' actually. I suffer throughout winter and generally in Spring. Summer is my saving grace. Another reason I love the season.

If only you could have seen me. I was in bed with 3 great, sexy and amazing....blankets. I also scattered hundreds of snotty tissues around the bed like delicate germ land mines.
I have also marinated myself in lemon, ginger and honey tea. I'm feeling much better but I still have the post nasal drip. It's so annoying, I could tear my own throat out. I wont. It would be messy.

I'm annoyed too because just as I start my exercise regime, this happens. It has taken me over a year to motivate myself to get my wobbly ass to the gym and when I do, I fall sick. Now, I could take it is a sign, but I wont. I am determined this time to actually be toned and fabulous. I have been given a challenge. I need to get myself into a super tight and sexy mini for a mates birthday in October. I scoffed at this obviously, but she seems to think this will motivate me. She's picking the dress out too. Crap.
I had better get my post nasal drip to the punching bags immediately or scare everyone away in October.

This weekend really was chilled. I had been in bed for Thursday and Friday so I was literally climbing the walls in my cabin fever state. I had to work Saturday and Sunday, so I took the opportunity to see some girl friends on Sunday. We had brunch at Atholl Square and it was absolutely fantastic. Poached eggs, coffee and winter sunshine; that's what I'm talking about!
I literally felt like I was having my very own Sex in the City moment. We chatted about everything, everything!
I needed that!

In other news, I bought Pepper Spray today. It was a spontaneous moment. Well, kind of. I've been wanting to get something after my smash and grab for a while now . I've never really gotten round to it, but today I happened to walk past a security store. Ultimately I have wanted to get a tazer. Shock his criminal ass, you know?
R5000? I think not. I bought a R95 pepper spray.
I'm rather scared of it though. I would be the type of person who in a moment of panic would spray the nozzle into my own face. We all know how Murphy's Law adores me.
It does make me feel better to have it though. I really hope I never have to use it.

I've decided to make a delicious stuffed roast chicken tonight - I'm still learning how to cook, you see, so this is all experimental. I'm setting the table and lighting candles. I even bought a new table cloth. Blogshell is putting out all the stops! Hold me back! ;-) Haha!