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...

Soppiness...bare with me and my hormones.

So, I'm feeling better today. Still bloated but I'm not ready to kill anyone. Yet.
I had a morbid thought to. If I had to be driven over by a bus or something...yesterday's post would have been my last -how revolting. Sorry. All my life, to have my parting words as "I haven't had period cramps like this since high school. I feel as if someone from the movie SAW is inside my tummy trying out new versions for SAW 4!"

Charmer, right there!

Last night, I sat backing up all my blogs. I started in September 2007 and copied and pasted every months post onto my laptop. I am horrified that I've been blogging for over a year. It feels like 6 months. Woah! I'm so glad that blogs started. When I first heard about a blog...it was literally a case of: "Oh my God. That sounds terrible. Is it contagious and is there a cure?"
I was laughed at, of course and after some explaining I decided to do some research about them. I still wasn't 100% sure about how they worked or what the purpose was until I was flipping through Cosmopolitan magazine and saw the section for Blog of the Month. Mushy Peas on Toast was the featured blog, so I copied the URL and went in search. I have read her blog every day since and so I can whole heartedly say that she is the reason I started blogging. I have always enjoyed writing and I must admit, I tried writing as myself. I had a blog with my name and everything, but I found myself censoring what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. I'm not really sure why and I still can't explain it. I deleted it and was talking to a friend of mine. He came up with the name The Blonde Blogshell (wish I could take credit for it; wish I had thought of it) - you'd also be surprised at who that person is, anyways, I found out his wife reads my blog and I nearly had a heart attack - again...the shyness factor and the: "Oh shit what have I said?"
Anyways...this is also something I can't explain... I can't write as myself, under my real name...but I can completely and truly write as ME under a pseudonym. No logic, but it works.

I can't really remember NOT blogging and I look forward to typing out my bitching, my excitements, my sadness and my general experiences. I will never forget receiving my first comment. Ruby Letters welcomed me into the blogging world and I was stoked that someone had read my blog. Chuffed is the word; terrified the other. Oh dear. What happens if someone I actually know stumbles across my blog? Bizarre I know, since I am putting my life into these posts on The Internet for the WORLD to see and yet when people do figure out who the person is behind The Blonde Blogshell I get so shy and freak a little. I know. There's no logic in that at all. I've always been an open person (sometimes to my very own detriment) and often land myself in boiling water. Thing is, I have nothing to hide and I'm in my twenties learning about life and who I am as a woman. I don't feel I need to apologise for who I am and what my own opinions are.
I like being able to be anonymous (well sort of...like I said..openness can be detrimental to me at times) and I like having anonymous people comment on my blog with their opinions. I find it fascinating and cyber-weird that I consider you guys to be my friends...friends I've never really met. Again, no sense in that either, but it's true.

So...as my 235 post, I'd like to say THANK YOU for the comments and for your very own blogs that I love reading over a cup of vanilla tea. Thank you for allowing me this platform to really express myself and to have fun!

PS> Two months and 2 days left until 2009. Just saying.

Painting the town red. Just saying.

Right so...don't read any further if you're male and can't handle female stuff!
Just a warning.

I am so fucking bloated I feel like I've swallowed a watermelon whole. Man, I look 10 months pregnant and I'm not trying to be cute about it. No exaggeration. Just pure uncomfortable bloating.
I am PMSing like a bitch at the moment. Good grief. I have turned into a monster. Seriously. Even the man is wary of me. He is walking on egg shells hoping not to get burned by my fiery mouth and stare that could turn you to ashes.
I haven't been this PMS-ey in ages! Don't know what's going on.
My stomach is killing me. I am in agony. I haven't had period cramps like this since high school. I feel as if someone from the movie SAW is inside my tummy trying out new versions for SAW 4!
Argh!
Bloody hell...excuse the pun. Eww. Sorry.

Periods suck. Period.

TMI? Afraid so. Did warn you.

Sandton City

Wow. Who knew that 2 hours at Sandton City could be so entertaining? I don't really shop at Sandton City purely because it's waay too expensive and because I have shopping malls closer to home.

Right, so with that said. I had to return something to Sandton City that I had purchased. I had a few hours to spare and decided to walk around a bit. I needed Re-writable CD's and underwear. In no particular order.

I know this is a little weird for some, but it's not like I go underwear shopping all that often. I normally buy in bulk -so to speak and that lasts me for a while. A long while.

I know that we're in an economic slump, but dude. R250 for a bra? One bra?

I ended spending R910.35 today and got two bra's and 5 panties. Basically 1 pair for each day of the week. Weekends are going to be a la Britney. Kidding. Or am I?

I literally had one of those tug of wars with my credit card and the sales lady. It wasn't pretty.

Sales Lady: 1

Blondie: 0

Right, so there I am deciding between cute little briefs that say: "Access Denied" and "Fragile: This Way Up", this elderly gentleman walks in. He has his walking stick in one hand and a Woolworths packet in the other.

He says (matter of factly) to the I'm-so-bored-please-can-I-fold-another-pair-of-panties-woohoo sales lady: "Excuse me. Are there fashion shows?"

"Huh?"

"Well. If I wanted to buy something for the Mrs, how would I know what to get?"

"Um. Look in her cupboard and see what she likes or find out her size and surprise her."

"Bu-but don't you have models here to try on the lingerie for me to decide?"

"No sir."

"Awwww!"

We suddenly clicked that this sweet old man was not so sweet after all. He's a filthy pervert. I was enthralled.

I finally left with my pretty packet - at least the packaging was worth it (a shallow satisfaction.)

I had to wait in line to pay for my parking, which by the way is RIDICULOUSLY expensive. So, it's finally my turn. I insert the parking voucher and insert a R20 note. I'm supposed to get R7 back. I do and out pops the new R5 coin and a R2 coin.

As I pop the coins into my wallet, I suddenly notice something unusual. It's not a R5 coin. It looks similiar and is the same weight.

Nope. It's a Turkish 1 cent coin. Man, I was pissed. Although...I now would like to find out what a) the exchange rate is

b) aren't they part of the EU, so they should be using Euro's, in which case this is null and void or it's potentially worth something as an old coin? (I may sound stupid, but I don't actually know if they're part of the EU or not.)

c) I've been swindled out of R5.

Above is the Turkish coin.

Above is the old R5 coin on the left and the new R5 coin on the Right
.

Oh and to try and get some help or someone who actually gives a damn is almost impossible, so I now have Turkish money in my wallet. Have I thought about passing it off as R5 coin myself?
Hell yes.
Will I?
Dude no...I do believe in Karma. Financial Karma.

Hickey's, watermelon, Sex and the City, mom and charity....you come up with a title for this! LOL

This weekends charity event was an interesting one. It got drenched. Wow and Wags Charity event was held outside with a small marquee for guests to enjoy champagne and canapes. Their actual seats for the show were outside. We had a small marquee for celebrities, make-up artists, hair stylists and wet dogs. It was chaos. Our marquee actually flooded and some bags were soaked. Designer gowns were soaked and we had to walk out onto the ramp, dog in one hand and umbrella in the other. It was tres interesting.
I know we wanted rain, hell, we bitched about the dryness, but hells bells, it sure made up for it on Saturday night. Hail, thunder, large droplets...it was proper.


When was the last time you got a hickey? No really. I discovered I had one on my shoulder...not an intentional-16-year-old-let's-give-you-a-hickey but rather a nuzzle that was harder than expected and left a purple mark. Dude. Not great. Not great when you have a strappy dress and the make-up atist whispers loudly: "Should I cover that with base?"
Isn't the purpose of a whisper to be discreet? I mean seriously. Why bother whispering? Why not announce it over the PA system?
Thing is I wasn't aware what "that" was.
So Blondie here, being...well, blonde says: "Cover what?"
"Your hickey!"
"Wh..what?"
At this stage a few people have gathered around to see what must have been Barney's purple head grinning at them on my neck.
Lovely.
They all gave me the look. The "I-know-what-you've-been-doing-Grrrrrrr!!!" look.
It turns out it wasn't as bad as it originally seemed and quite frankly it really can't quite be classified as a hickey. Right? It was a nuzzle. A loving nuzzle that left a mark. I'm putting it out there.


Today I went to visit mom. She's definitely doing better. I brought over watermelon and the Sex and the City Movie DVD. I bought it yesterday. I HAD to have it in my DVD Collection. I also found the Marilyn Munroe Complete DVD Collection. I've never seen a single movie with her in it, but strangely enough and I really can't explain it, but I'm fascinated by her.
I wanted to buy it without a hesitation, until I saw the price. Dear God! R2000! Um... Next time...ahem.

Anyway, so... mom and I were perched on the bed, watermelon on laps indulging in 2 hours of bliss. What a movie. I had forgotten how many sex scenes there were. Yes Blondie strikes again...
It doesn't matter how close you are to your mom, it is still awkward whenever any sex scene comes on screen it doesn't matter if it's 5 seconds or 5 minutes. Awkward.



I thought this was a fitting picture...Watermelon and Sex and The City ;-)

Charity and Showers

So I received this email from my gorgeous sister. I know it's not original, but I'm feeling as original as....um... see? Can't even think of that! So...here it is! It made me wet my pants. Not literally, but nearly. Just saying.

Part 1: HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN:
Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according tolights and darks.
Walk to bathroom wearing long dressing gown.. If you see husband alongthe way, cover up any exposed areas. Look at your womanly physique inthe mirror, make mental note to do more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc.
Get in the shower. Use face cloth, arm cloth, leg cloth, long loofah,wide loofah and pumice stone.
Wash your hair once with cucumber and sageshampoo with 43 added vitamins.
Wash your hair again to make sure it's clean.
Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner.
Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red.
Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash.
Rinse conditioner off hair.
Shave armpits and legs.
Turn off shower.
Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower.
Spray mold spots with Tilex.
Get out of shower.
Dry with towel the size of a small country.
Wrap hair in super absorbent towel.
Return to bedroom wearing long dressing gown and towel on head.If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.

Part 2: HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN:
Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them ina pile.
Walk naked to the bathroom. If you see wife along the way, shake willy at her while making the woo-hoo sound.
Look at your manly physique in the mirror. Admire the size of your willy and scratch your butt.
Get in the shower.
Wash your face.
Wash your armpits.
Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse the snot off.
Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower.
Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.
Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.
Wash your hair.
Make a shampoo Mohawk.
Pee.
Rinse off and get out of shower.
Partially dry off.
Fail to notice water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub thewhole time.
Admire willy size in mirror again.
Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, light and fan on.
Return to bedroom with towel around waist.
If you pass the wife, pulloff towel, shake willy at her and make the woo-hoo sound again.
Throw wet towel on her pillow.

Like I said...nearly wee'd.

I am quite excited about tomorrow night. I do a lot of charity work and tomorrow night I am a part of Wow and Wags the proceeds will go to: FreeMe
I am being dressed by Story Design -an incredible designer and my Garden Terrorist and this post is being dressed by Doggie Hillfigher.
Exciting times!

Have a wicked weekend biatches!

It's called: DRIVING PROPERLY!

Right, so I know I sound like I go to the opening of an envelope. I really don't. It's just this time of the year. Promise. Besides, I know girls (socialites) who do go to the opening of an envelope and trust me, it's not a good rep to have.
So, with that said, in the silly season and all... I am going to the Sandton City Fashion Show tonight for the media for more champagne and fashion. As you do. I am excited...Blondie 2, Special K and I are going through!! :-) YAY!



I'm rather chuffed...I received an award! *Blush* Thank you ExMi!! You totally rock. Just saying.

I do not understand drivers. No seriously. It is a little rain. Not a plague of locusts. Is it necessary to slam on breaks and drive at the 30k mark when a few rain drops hit your windscreen? It's not even a full bloody rain storm. It's like the sky is thinking about opening the heavens...it's like the clouds sneezed and a few drops came down. It's not a full on thunderstorm. Good grief people. Get over yourselves. Now...on the flip side, I'm not saying that you need to drive like Speedy Gonzales when the rain really does belt down, but for heavens sake (pun intended...cos I'm really witty that way) DRIVE PEOPLE, or did you get your drivers license from a Checkers Lucky Packet?

There. I feel better. Well...I'll feel 100% better after I get this out.

I am on my way to a meeting today. There are two lanes on the road. One for me going to meeting...one for people going in the opposite direction. Ok...just in case anyone is unclear (as clearly this woman was.) one lane for me and one lane for you. There is a truck in my lane for construction. There is a construction worker with a red flag who has stopped the on coming traffic and is waving us on. So off I drive, around the monstrous truck. There are 3 cars in front of me. This stupid stupid stupid woman decides she's too good in her BMW (of course) to wait and turns into our lane to drive around the cars patiently waiting their turn.

I'm not quite sure what she wanted to achieve, because she blocked us and had no way to go...but as a result of her sudden movement into our lane, the two cars in front slammed on breaks, the car in front of me slammed on breaks and as I came around the truck (blind spot) I suddenly had to slam on breaks, hear that gorgeous rubber shriek of my tyres and bump straight into the car in front of me. Luckily I wasn't driving too fast and there's barely any damage but still. In the police report I had to state how fast I was going. Now...how is THIS for sadisitic? I was embarrassed to write there 20ks. I mean, at least make it good and be like 80 or something, but how revolting am I? The damage of the car AND me would have been horrible. Oh no...there's Blogshell embarrassed that I'd had an accident driving 20ks an hour. I am morbid. I know.

Go on...ASK ME! I dare ya...

I think Nick Bolton is a genius. I really do. He is one of the top photographers in South Africa and I could basically wear a potato sack and he'd still make the shot look artistic and fantastic! Man, I can't wait to get the actual photographs! I have felt like a supermodel for a day!
I am gushing, I know...but when you look at the screen and go: "Oh my God! Is that ME? It IS me!!" then you'd be doing the same!

I have an opening of an actor friend of ours (my man and I) club tonight. The man and I are going through for cocktails and canapes, good music and to catch up with people we haven't seen in a while. It should be good!

I've decided to start a Wedding Fund. Every single time someone asks me when my man and I are getting married, I'm going to ask them for R10. Maybe I should up that to R100, but considering our current economic state, I thought I'd be kind ;-)
By the time the man and I do actually decide to tie the know, don on the ball and chain and throw confetti around, we'll have enough money to actually have a wedding. Not just a pretty face...um blog...neh?

RIP

I'm no barrel of joy today. I received a phonecall from Zob today. She was in tears and I could hardly make out what she was saying.
It turns out that the horrific and tragic plane crash this morning was carrying some one we know. Zob went to school with her and was good friends with her.
I am numb. I may not have known her all that well, but it is still weird to know that someone's life is over so quickly and horrifically and to know that I've had drinks and fun with her. It's just weird, you know? I can't imagine what her close friends, family and boyfriend are feeling!
Rest In Peace Gillian. You will be missed.

Here is the story that is all over the news:

Plane burst into flames
21/10/2008 12:10 - (SA)

Johannesburg - Four men and two women were killed when their aircraft crashed in Germiston shortly after taking off from the Rand Airport east of Johannesburg on Tuesday.
Their light aircraft took off at 08:10 and about 2km into its journey to Ficksburg in the eastern Free State the pilot called in to request an emergency landing, said airport manager Anton Kruger.
However, the aircraft broke up and burst into flames as it came down behind the Germiston Raceway.
The area is surrounded by factories, a golf course and a popular lake.
ER24 emergency services spokesperson Werner Vermaak said their control room was flooded with calls from people reporting the accident. They said the plane suddenly went down about 500m from the busy N3.
The company sent all their vehicles in the area to the scene, but on arrival found that none of the six people on board had survived.
"There were no injuries, only fatalities," he said. "The plane is burnt out."

Saturday Night...

Dude...my weekend was totally insane!! The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Launch was well, um...sexy!
It's just NOT FAIR. No honestly. I know I'm going to sound like such a chick now, but how is it possible for one human being to be that tall and toned with a button nose, piercing eyes, gorgeous hair and not a pimple or dimple in sight?
Wait. I sound like I'm perving. OK wait...this is the "chick" part. I was literally looking for flaws. I was looking and looking and I'm sure I must have looked rather bitchy, but I was gobsmacked. No fair; no fair!
I was utterly exhausted and got home at midnight. Blondie 2 stayed over in the spare bedroom that I'm convinced is haunted. Another story for another day.

Saturday was the day I MC'd for 7 hours and to be honest, I had such a jol! I was exhausted at first, but there is something about 6000+ people all screaming and whistling at you that can perk you up quite a bit. Just saying.

Right, so I'm getting to the good part! SATURDAY NIGHT! Blondie 2 and Special K came over to my crib (because I'm ghetto like that) and we did something so High School and I loved it! We got ready, we did each others make-up, helped with hair and took photo's. As you do.
We were getting ready for Daddy Long Legs Birthday Party. We weren't quite sure how "sober" he would be considering he had been on a pub crawl from 10am; so we were figuring we'd have a party anyway.
We arrived in the pouring rain and managed to hobble (quickly) through the puddles in stiletto's to the venue. We were right, he was a mad/glazed-eyed man who was dancing with anything that moved or didn't move, as the cleaners broom stick got to discover.
We danced, downed shooters and laughed the whole night long. I was having a swell time until it was my turn to go to the bar and get a round of drinks. A guy in a red shirt came up behind me and started dancing with my back...No. Grinding his stiffy into my back. It was horrifying. I turned around but he had moved onto his next victim with his "I can't quite see you, but you must be woman" look.
Two hours later, it was my turn again. I went to the bar and stood next to someone I haven't seen in ages! So there I am, chatting away when I feel some wet splashes on my leg. I didn't think anything of it because I had heard a glass drop. The next second, I feel a LOT more liquid on my leg travel straight into my shoe. I whip around to see Red Shirt guy keeled over the bar vomitting his guts out. Well. I have never been so repulsed. The bouncers removed him and I spent 15 minutes in the bathroom, emptying my shoe out and cleaning my leg, wretching from the smell.
I promptly sprayed half a bottle of Michael Kors onto my leg and went back to party.

At about 02h30, we all piled back into Special K's car and went in search of pies. The first garage we stopped at only had 2 and none of us were feeling charitable enough to share; so we moved on.
At the next Sasol garage we found 3 pies waiting for us, I mean they literally had our names on them. Instead of eating and driving (it's sooo dangerous!); we found a small table with two chairs on them. Special K and Blondie plonked their asses down and left me to sit on the ice-cream drawer. I like to think I was freezing my assets.
So, we're pretty "happy" - a lovely warm alcohol glow stuffing our pie holes with, well, pies when our victim arrived.
At this stage, we are pretty fucking hilarious. Blondie 2 goes up to him (he's buying a Fanta) and decides to be one of those sales woman that irritate the shit out of you in the supermarket.
She walked up behind him, picks up a box of washing powder and proceeds to be a cheesy salesman.
Mr. I Have No Funny Bone says to her: "I don't think you're very funny! I mean no girls should be eating pies at 3am!"
Say what? Oh no he didn't! (Ghetto Blondie is da bomb!)
Well, all 3 of us mature girls starting hucking him. Eventually Blondie 2 put the washing powder and handed him a box of Brooklax. Priceless.
I nearly wet myself.

Ah, the good times!!!