Adopt a Granny

I want to adopt her as my granny. I want to bottle her and sell her. I'm talking about this lovely, FEISTY 69 year old (love her age) that works at the company I work at in the mornings (thank you flexi-hours.)
She is modern but old school and takes no nonsense let me tell you, but she is just full of fun and doesn't miss a beat. She knows exactly what is going on with who, but has avoided being labelled as a busy body. I love that she isn't afraid to say what she thinks. It's wonderful. She would be a script writers dream for any movie with her one liners and sharp remarks.
She has this cackle that is so wicked that every time I hear it, I can't help but laugh too. Completely contagious. My God she is a feisty little thing. I just adore her.
The stories she has told me have made me, the 26 year old with a few stories of my own, blush. Good grief.

She lives in a retirement village and tells me about her garden that she is totally in love with and how all the old grandpa's always come by to visit and she's not interested. I told her that she just can't help it if she's a little minx.
"Oooh I'm not."
"Yes you are. Clearly you are, if you are getting all those old mens blood pressure up! You little vixen you!"
and out comes her contagious cackle.

She has a better social life than I do and is constantly going out for dinners and dancing and cups of tea at her other friends in the retirement village. She goes for walks and adores shoes. I guess some things never change in that girly department.

She told me a story about her late second husband that I cannot not laugh at when I think about it. She met him in her 50's after her divorce and as they started dating, she said she was nervous to enter the bedroom. *As she is telling me this, she raises her eyebrows up and down* and so she would put it off. Eventually one night, she told him that she didn't know where he'd been so he had better not think about doing anything without protection. She calls condoms French Letters. Bless.
So out came the French Letters and when she saw them, she started laughing.
"Why on earth do you have Rough Riders? Oh no... you can turn those inside out and give yourself a thrill!"

I just wish I could record the way she explains stories. She has a no-nonsense shrill voice with a cheeky manner and yet she has unbelievable charm. When I first met her I was petrified. On my first day that I walked into the office she came out and demanded: "And? Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Talk about intimidating.

I love her to pieces. She makes me look forward to coming into work each morning. What a character!

She adores watching this new season of Strictly Come Dancing on BBC and if you could hear her perve over the male dancers, well, I blush almost every day.
I constantly tease her about it and how she had better keep her blood pressure medication on stand-by and her response is always classic: "Oh Blondie, I'm not dead you know. My eye sight is just fine to look at the "menu", thank you very much! Oh you should should see the way he moves those hips ... Oooooh ... what a thrill!"

I want to gobble her up she is just too cute.

Talking to her makes me really miss my Gran too.

I've always hated the idea of getting old and wrinkly, but she makes me look forward to it. There is something about her and what a little gem she is.

Changes ...

Can you smell it? Can you feel it?

Ok maybe not entirely, but you know that Spring is just around the corner. Alright, to be perfectly honest all I can really feel is how dry and frizzy my hair is, how those static shocks hurt and how dry my skin is that I look half woman-half reptile.

I have noticed how some trees are starting to blossom and how the weather is shyly warming up. I had 2 braai's this weekend and I didn't have to pull on a jersey once.

There are two things that I always freak out about though.

a) I am so lily white that I may blind anyone who isn't wearing sunglasses.

b) those layers of clothes come off to expose the layer of "blubber" I fondly called my layer of warmth.

There would actually normally be 3 things ... the third would have been that I would need an industrial strength razor to deforest my legs because *again* I fondly called them my "layer of warmth home grown stockings."

My legs have been silky smooth all.winter.long. Thanks to my relationship with European Boy. 'Nuff said.

OK no wait. They haven't been silky smooth all.winter.long. They have been silky smooth all for a few hours after I've shaved them (I'm not a fan of waxing. My legs, that is. Go figure) until I got cold, got goosebumps and then instantly had chicken flesh legs. God it pisses me off.

I have a LOT of changes coming up. All happening ON Spring Day.

I am moving into my fabulous, tiny bachelorette pad that has a little garden. I love gardens and while this may be tiny, I can't wait to sit on the patio in the sunshine and watch the birds.

Good grief. I sound like I'm 80. LOL

I can't wait to decorate and just have MY OWN space. I adore my family and I'm so grateful that I was able to move back 8 months ago after the breakup, but I really do need my independance and after running my own household for 4 years (my way) it has been difficult going back to living under "mom and dad's house rules."

An element of my job is also changing on the 01 September which is bitter sweet. It is exciting and sad at the same time. It's going to be quite an adjustment.

These are a few things that I'm looking forward to about summer:

Ice tea's and cocktail sundowners with my girlfriends.

Picnics.

Watermelon.

Salads and fruit salads.

Ice cream.

Pool Parties.

Summer dresses and slops.

Bronzed skin.

Cabriolets.

Sunsets.

Leaving my hair to dry naturally because this time the haridryer will be too hot, instead of welcoming! LOL.

A green city again. I'm over the drab brown.

The smell of suntan lotion.

I can't wait.

People justify EVERYTHING

People fascinate me. I would love to find out what the psyche is behind certain people. I'd love to find out how they justify things to themselves. How they make it "OK" in their minds.
It's fascinating and yet if that "wish" of mine had to come true, I'm sure I'd be very haunted.

I have a friend who was engaged to a man who was also engaged to three other women. Firstly - it's disgusting. Secondly, HOW? and Thirdly - How did he think he would get away with it and what made him think it was OK?

I know someone who honestly believes everyone should drop everything when they need something and if people don't, they get really really upset. They also try and palm off as many things as they can on other people - basically they want everything to be done for them, including their job. It's so selfish.

I know someone who believes everyone is jealous of them. Imagine living with an ego as big as that. I want to know what makes them think that and then again, do I?

I have been witness to this girl being overly flirtatious and, well, slutty to a friend of mines husband. He was excellent in the way he handled but I do not understand where girls get off. What made her justify her actions?

Nothing too exciting at the moment...I'm working very hard and I'm rather pissed off that there is so much month at the end of the money!! I'm really feeling the pinch of the bad economy at the moment!
*Sigh*

A random post...

Thanks for your advice on FB - greatly appreciate it :-)

There is something magical about being at home in the evenings, snuggled on the couch with a warm blanket and hearing a thunderstorm boom outside. It is weird to hear in winter, especially in Johannesburg. It hardly ever rains.

I love cold days for completely shallow reasons. It's for the fashion. I love scarves, hats, warm jackets and stylish boots.

Oh and another one bites the dust. One of my friends, Skinny girl has got engaged. We're all a little shocked but happy (don't get me wrong) for her. She's known this dude for 2 months and broke up with her last boyfriend of 2 years in February.
I am now officially the last girl in my group of friends to not have a sparkly piece of bling on my finger.
Am I upset? Nope. I know my time will come when the timing is right and I'm very content in that.

However, the thing with society that annoys the crap out of me is that when you're in a serious relationship the standard question is: "So, when are you two getting married?"
When you eventually do get married, your honeymoon isn't even a distant memory and people start asking: "So, when are you going to have babies?"
Your first born will still be a little bundle and people will ask: "So, when are you going to have the second one?"
Good grief.
Does it ever end?

The other thing I have decided I am going to start doing, or stop doing, is this: "We must get together..."
I have a tendency to bump into people I haven't seen in a while and at the end of the conversation I always say: "Great to see you again, we really must get together!"
I have the best intentions, but let's be honest, we both know it probably wont happen.
I'm going to stop putting myself in those pressurised situations so that when I bump into that person again and we haven't got together, it's ok.
So there, I've decided to do that.

I've been given extra work to do, which is great. Very glad about that. Yes, it sounds a little ridiculous, but I am happy. More work = more pay!
Woohoo.

Oh and I love it when it's someones birthday in the office, especially in winter. It means cake and cupcakes and getting to really enjoy it because I can just hide that "moment on the lips; forever on the hips" under a big warm, large jacket.
Bonus.

As red as....

I am blushing. I am bright red. Crimson red, Ferrari red, Fire Engine red. As red as a lobster, a tomatoe and a pom who's spent 5 minutes in the sun.
You get the point.

Murphy's Law struck again. I, of course, have to learn things the hard way! Dear Lord! Let me start at the beginning.

I went onto the TV set this morning and was instantly ushered to the make-up and hair room. I do not know why make up artists insist on putting dark, brown shades of lipstick on me. I understand our make-up has to look darker for it to stand out, but brown lipstick? No!
The worst thing is if you mention this, ever so honestly and nicely, you end up sounding like a diva bitch, anyway. It's really not the case but please. Stop putting me in brown. I don't like it.
Anyways, I then had to make my way to the set where the sound guy attached the microphone to my top. That is always awkward. The small mic basically needs to sit just above your breasts, preferably in cleavage.
I put the cable underneath my top and the monitor on the back of my pants, but that was when the dude had to adjust it near the twins. It's um...bonding!
We did the first part of the shoot and it was awesome. I had so much fun. We took a break so that the camera's could change batteries and tape etc.

I obviously, go to the loo. I brush my hair, hum (out of tune) a little, cough, blow my nose - I sound like an elephant having sex with a foghorn, get my make-up I've just rubbed off re-applied and walk back onto set. 5 guys are killing themselves laughing.
I think nothing of it, and move off to do some skinnering with Special K.
Our conversation is as follows:
B:"How do you think it's going?"
K:"I think we're doing well, but I'm a little irritated with how my make-ups been done.
B: "Me tooo!! I don't get it...why do they put brown lipstick on me? Argh!"
K: "No babe, you look great...look at my cheeks..."
At this stage, I felt the blood drain out of my face and then race back into the reddest of red blushes.
I looked in horror at Special K, pointed at her chest and mouthed: "Our mics are on!"

Fuck!

There is just no getting out of that. We are bitching and we are busted.
We then make things worse (trying to make things better) by then saying (not obviously...nooo!!)
K: But, I mean... I guess, we're just, um, being mean! I could never do my make-up this nicely!"
I'm now dying at how this is just getting worse, but panicking because I need to say something so I say: "You look amazing! We should get lessons from this woman."

Oh. My. God! How false could that be? And the "False Award goes to....*drum roll* The Blonde Blogshell!"

Kill.me.now.

We walk in, sheepishly, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I suddenly realise that the camera's aren't filming and that not one of the sound guys, directors or anyone else has a pair of headphones on.
Does this mean we're in the clear? Did no one hear us?
Say it IS so!

I couldn't take it anymore, so I asked and held my breath waiting for the dreaded answer.
"We heard your bathroom antics, your bad humming and your coughing and spluttering!" He was clearly amused by this.
"So...you didn't hear anything else?"
"No, why? Were you gossiping?"
"No..." Paranoia sets in, "Why? Why would we be gossiping? Why would you ask that?"
"We've caught a lot of people out like that, but we were all doing things, so no one had the headphones on."
I let out a thankful sigh of relief that no one had heard our bitching, but they heard me pee and they heard my nose blowing that could scare small children.

I am still blushing and I've learnt the biggest lesson ever. Switch your mic off!!

PS> It's the Sex And The City movie premier tonight! I'm taking my little sister with me...Good Times!

Weird one.

Well, I jinxed it didn't I?
No need to hate me anymore... I'm not going to NY! :-( *Sobs*
It's next bloody week and I don't have a visa, obviously.
Shit shit shit.

I have also had half an hour sleep. I wish I was exaggerating. I am exhausted! I have been up the whole night with the damn tickle in my throat that has forced me to cough and cough and cough....and cough. I was eventually sipping out of the cough mixture bottle and that didn't help. My throat is raw today and I sound even worse than I did yesterday. Thing is, I don't feel as sick as I sound.

I don't feel awful, I just hate the tickle, the phlegm (sorry) and that annoying cough that doesn't scratch it!
I've been overdosing on hot water, lemon slices and honey. Tastes divine and it soothes. Finally...some relief.

I guess I'm really just trying to avoid the doctor. I really want to get over this myself. I'm stubborn and I don't have, ahem, medical aid.
Yes. I know, I know!!! I've received all the lectures.

Ooooh and my nerdy side comes out now, but facebook was banned at work last year. I had withdrawl symptoms (nerd) and never really had the chance to go on facebook at home BUT... I got into work today to receive this:

The following website will be unblocked (Please use responsibly): Facebook

Rejoice! Hallelujah!! I am rather excited... I also thought I would be "soooo over" Facebook. Apparently not.

Oh the small things!

I'm also craving mince pies. The Christmassy kind.
Yes...I told you this post was a weird one.

I've eaten enough for a small country - yes I feel bad...in more ways than one.

I am so full I am worried that I am going to literally have to be rolled out of work or maybe rolled onto the balcony where a crane could air lift me down two storeys.

I forgot that this new restaurant contacted my team yesterday as they wanted to showcase their food for us (love my job). I had lunch before I got to work. A huge lunch. A huge chicken schnitzel (always too big, but I ate the entire thing) drowned in cheeze sauce, chips and salad. I did everything but lick the plate clean. Good to see I still have some class.
I think people at the restaurant must have thought I hadn't seen food for a while. Maybe they thought I was a Survivor contestant.

I arrived at work feeling very piggy-like. God I am uncomfortable. I am so relieved I actually have a long top on, I can now undo the button of my jeans.
I have so many stomach rolls I could open my own bakery.

Anyways, I get to work and my team is ravenous. They haven't forgotten and haven't eaten.
I couldn't be rude as this new restaurant laid out tray upon tray of food and then eagerly watched us for our first reaction.
I had to try everything. The Prego rolls, the haloumi, sticky chicken strips, bacon and cheese burgers, pizza slices and the traditional breasts. I got such delight in asking the one dude on my team to look at these breasts and then correct him by saying "No. On the plate!"
We all giggled. It was marvelously childish.
Please let me add that these were not cocktail party size, these were the real deal and we had a plate each.

I. am. so. full. I. don't. know. what. to. do. with. myself.

I need to burp. I can't. That's so annoying.
Maybe I should pace up and down, you know...to walk it off! I'm afraid the earth might shudder with each step though.
Maybe I should be bullimic (as an emergency.) OK, that's not something I should joke about, but seriously, these are the thoughts flying through my head.

Oh and guess what? I have a dinner (Aaaaahhh) with my very best friend ... it's a weird friendship...we hardly get to see each other (once every few months) but when we do it's like we saw each other yesterday. She is also my longest friend and knows me better than most.
It's been a very very long time and it's times like these, that I hate being female. No. Let me rephrase. I hate being a sensitive female. I haven't seen her in so long and we have hardly spoken either that I'm worried we're drifting apart. I'd be gutted.

While everyone is...

enjoying their very long weekend, I am working. Yup, I'm keeping the economy going.
Today and tomorrow is a public holiday and I'm working both days.
At least I'm only working from 12-3pm both days, so happiness is.

I feel like doing something interesting this weekend. I feel like getting out, enjoying our sunshine (even if it is a little duller in winter), feeling the breeze in my hair and doing something I normally never do.
I would like to take a drive out of the city and find a quaint bakery/coffee shop or perhaps an art gallery in Magaliesberg. Maybe I'll look for vintage stores. I have never done that and always wanted to.
Maybe I'll pack a picnic basket, start driving and see where we land up. I just feel like doing something other than sitting at home watching TV or drinking copious amounts of alcohol, sitting/dancing in dark smoky rooms filled with loud music and flashing multi coloured lights.
I'd love to get my group of mates together, take a drive out and find a cute, different restaurant in the middle of the country.
I'd like to sip on wine overlooking a beautiful view.
Oooh, I'd actually LOVE to surprise the man by taking him away for the weekend to some cosy bed and breakfast place that offers spa treatments!
Mmm mmm mmm...Yes Please!!

I'm going to google "Things to do in Johannesburg" and see what I find.

Have a great day x

Stalker and le weekend

I am an idiot. I don't know WHY I get soo nervous. I think it's more the anticipation for the event and wanting it to go smoothly!
I also know that I need to be nervous. It sounds crazy, I know, but if I'm too relaxed before a show I would make mistakes.
I have a love/hate relationship with nerves. I love them because I need them and yet I hate the feeling!
Once I am on stage, the nerves/anticipation disappear and I'm ready to rock! ha ha!

It went well *if I say so myself* :-) I was on for 20 minutes and then it was ready to party the night away!
My girls were there and my man came later and it was awesome!

I got home at 02h30. I don't have a hangover (surprisingly) but I am pretty pissed off. This woman I know in the industry, or should I say, I've met a few times, gave my phone number to a bunch of businessmen in their late 30's; early 40's that happened to be there. She introduced me to them, they bought me a shooter and said they enjoyed the show. That was it. I would have had no problem if A, had she just asked me if it was ok and B, if they wanted my number because they were impressed with my MC-ing and wanted to book me.
I have received 8 phone calls so far today and 11 emails from this one guy saying:

Hey Blondie, how’s your Thursday treating you after last night’s wine and shooters? I saw you and your gorgeous friends dancing.

You’ll be glad to know that I think you are sexy and amazing. You speak beautifully and I would love to take you for dinner.

Let me tell you more about myself. I am a financial adviser for a large company and I have a lot of money so you will be comfortable and have anything your heart desires.

Now how is it possible that you and I are good mates of "Friend" and I’ve never met you before?

Regards

Me


Can you believe it?? Flattering? Sure. Annoying? Definitely. Like I would be completely interested in whether you're "loaded" or not! Really, it's simple: Fuck Off!

So good times seem to be ahead... a stalker! Everyone should have one. Go on try it.
Argh!

Have a wicked weekend. I'm working tomorrow and going to a rock concert in Benoni...something like that...my man has to be there and Sunday... I plan to do as little as possible!!

xx

Wannabe's!

I'm going to vent*. I can and I will. If you don't feel like reading the bitching, don't read any further.

I am really sick of girls who want to be celebrities in this country, SA. I have had enough of pretty girls believing the world owes them something. Their manipulation is unbelievable. The scary thing, it seems to work too. When did this become OK?
Being a celebrity is a privlege and generally comes from working hard and entertaining the masses, yes in the public eye. Actors, radio presenters, TV presenters, singers and musicians, sportsmen/women and top models are known to be celebrities.
Being a celebrity also does not give you the right to immediately assume you are any better than anyone else and diva attitudes stink.
I don't even know if celebrity is the right word for South Africa...perhaps public personalities is a better word.

I have absolutely had enough of these beautiful girls desperately wanting to be famous because they have done a bit of modelling and believe they deserve to be a top model with the "Lee-ann Liebenberg status".
While your self confidence is commendable, you actually need to work at it, instead of harrassing the different media houses and magazines to feature an article on who you are, what your favourite colour is and what your favourite position is. If you are doing something (work wise) that is worthy of recognition...then by all means, but most of these girls want to be FAMOUS and won't and don't care what for.
It is not cute, it is not amusing and it is time consuming.
These girls are manipulative, they make friends with influential people trying to get higher on the fame ladder and will stop at nothing to stab you in the back to get what they want.
It has really gotten bad.
Hard work and talent should get you to the top and that is the message that should be sent out.
Instead, the magazines are getting really annoyed at the constant emails under pseudonyms and their actual name that they eventually buckle just to rid themselves of these girls for a few months. Wrong message. These girls then feel that it works and go on to the next magazine.
Nothing ever comes from it, so they start at the beginning again.

It is irritating for people who work their asses off, who do things ethically and morally correct, who don't back stab; finish last. I think the saying: Good guys/gals always finish last... is true but it SUCKS!
It shouldn't be that way and it isn't right.

I probably sound bitter but I can absolutely assure you it's not a bitterness thing at all, it's a vent that the business world shouldn't work this way! Success should be measured by your hard work, not from harrassment, being a diva and believing you're so much better than anyone else.
Don't abuse a privlege you've been awarded...being in the public eye is hard work and my personal feeling is that...I would like people to acknowledge or recognise me because they appreciate my work and what I stand for... not for being in a magazine getting my nails done.
In a perfect world, I guess!

*I don't expect to be judged on this either. It is my opinion and it fucks me off, in a big way!

I'M early and IT'S awake....

I've just arrived at work. Yup. It's 00:30. I'll be going home when everyone is going to work. It's always slightly thrilling to go against the grain of the traffic flow. Everyone is dresses in fresh suits, cups of coffee in their car's cup holder and they move slowly but surely to their offices. Not Blondie. By that time I'm the opposite. I'm shaky and a little high strung from the 18th cup of coffee, my eyes burn and the sun is far too bright.

I'm working these "graveyard hours" for the week. I really am thankful it's just a week because shit, talk about messing with your body clock! I'll just get used to getting to bed by 8pm and waking up at midnight that when things do go back to normal, I'm yawning at 8pm and wide awake between 1 and 4am.
It's lovely. Really.

*Yawn*

I am not usually a coffee drinker, more of a "cup o' tea" gal. But lemme tell you, nothing, nothing beats coffee at 1am. I love them coffee beans and their lovely aromas and lovely little perks they bring (excuse the pun.)

I'm on my 4th cup and I'm only starting to feel the affects now! I am that tired.I can't really afford to be. I have to be on my game. I have to be alert and brilliant. *Come on body. Come on!*

OK...I have to concentrate now...Blog later when it's a decent hour!

x