Dear Santa

Dear Santa

I know, it's been a while. So how have you been keeping? I hope those reindeer of yours are behaving themselves.

Anyway, it's 'that' time of year and so I thought you might be curious to know what I'm hoping to find in my stocking next Thursday morning. I'm really just trying to make your job a little easier. I've narrowed it down to a little list. Here goes, big guy.

1. Okay, first up I'd like a new car, though if that's a little awkward to pack on the sleigh, I understand. A Nintendo Wii will do.

2. I wouldn't mind some help with my credit card and overdraft, and by 'help' I mean clear. I'm sure a guy like you has some very good contacts and so if you can schnaggle it so that it's all paid up and sorted, I'd be a really, really happy camper.

3. Santa, I really need a GHD. My cheap-ass Clicks hair-straightener is ruining my hair and I have it on good authority that the only solution is to use a GHD, because that doesn't dry out hair. Please Santa, I've been a good girl (for the most part), oh please can I have a GHD?

4. Now here's one I'm sure you've heard before. Please can you drop off a cute little puppy. I'm sure the cat won't mind. She'll get used to it. While you're at it, I may need a bigger garden. And maybe a dog nanny to entertain the pooch while I'm at work (and pick up the dog poop. Gross).

5. Now Santa, I know you of all people understand the importance of travel and so I'm sure you can guess my next wish list pressie. I'd really love a trip to Ireland. Or New York. I can't decide which spot I'd like to visit first, so feel free to surprise me. Either way, it would be much appreciated.

6. This next one is more of a necessity than a 'luxury'. Please Santa, I need a domestic worker / char / maid / whatever the pc term is. Please send me somebody who will wash my dishes, do the laundry, make the beds, wash windows (and floors) and above all, CLEAN THE TOILET (bleuch!). Please Santa. I'm begging you.

7. If domestic help is too tall an order, I'll make do with a tall, dark and handsome, millionnaire volunteer firefighter with a proclivity for washing dishes, doing the laundry, making (our [hee hee]) bed, washing windows (and floors) and cleaning toilets. But I'm not too fussy. If he doesn't speak any English, that's okay with me.

8. I'd also like a new job. Preferably one close to home, with a huge salary and 'negotiable' working hours (ie. 3 hours a day). Can you swing that?

Okay big guy, I think you have enought to work with. Can't wait to see what you drop off. And don't worry, I won't forget to leave out some cookies for you. No milk though. You know I don't drink that stuff. But I'll leave the box wine next to the biscuits. Feel free to help yourself but please don't polish it all off. We wouldn't want you nabbed for drinking and driving...

Best regards and thanks a bunch,

Fluffy Pink Thing

x o x o x o

Watching out for the green flash...

'Headed off to Clifton 2nd Beach after work yesterday for sundowners with friends. Magic...

Today's little pearl of wisdom

I learnt something quite valuable this morning. I learnt that no matter how rushed you are to get to work, you should keep an eye on the red flashy light thing that tells you when you are low on fuel. Because when you least expect it, you may find yourself stranded on the side of the highway.

Jeez. 'Not a good way to start the day...

Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?

The older I get, the harder its becoming to live la vida loca on a school night, and still be a relatively well functioning person the next day. I miss those days when I could party all night long and still make it to work the next morning without looking like I'd been dragged through a dumpster. Regardless, there are times when there is no choice but to put on the big girl panties, bite the bullet and carpe the diem. Whoa, cliche overload. Anyhoo, last night I toddled off to see old-school rocker/crooner Rod Stewart, who was playing at Newlands' Sahara Park. Sure, he's a tad long in the tooth and more my parents' kind of taste, but nonetheless it was a great show.

We sat in the cheap seats. (Read: all the way in the very back.) But that was actually okay. Of course, he played all the old stuff, which was fab. There was lots of singing, dancing, arm-waving and concerty-kinda stuff going on, and by the time the Rodster packed up his stuff and left, we were pretty worn out. We also found ourselves with an insanely large bunch of Irishmen (who are in Cape Town for some or other house-building charity thing). Seriously, there were hundreds of them! And in true Irish style, they were all incredibly festive. And by festive, I mean loud. We had loads of laughs with them (very friendly bunch) and when Rod wasn't singing, the Irish were. I kid you not: it was like being at a football match! 'Danny Boy'... 'It's a long way to Tipperary'... all being belted out at top volume. Luckily, having folks who are both Glaswegians meant I knew the words to some of the songs and so I merrily joined in for a sing-song. Ah, good fun!

Then it was off to Kelvin Grove for a nightcap or two while we waited for the post-concert traffic to clear. Hence, it was a rather late night - not helped by the fact that they closed the gate on the other side of a school field we had to cross to get to the car. I tried to scale the fence but only got half way over. It was quite a drop and so changed my mind and went back the way I came. Needless to say, my 'dismount' was less than ladylike and today I have a couple of whopper bruises as a reminder. Live and learn.

Anyway, I crawled into bed at about 1.30 this morning and when the alarm went off after what felt like very little sleep, I wanted to cry. The powers-that-be at work knew that I was off to a concert, and so calling in sick would've been a little too obvious. Awoooo... I'm really looking forward to home time. I think I may eat dinner in bed. Hey, don't judge me. It's not very nice.

Hope it tasted good. Real good.

As far as Mondays go, this one's been not too shabby. Weather-wise, it's a beautiful Cape Town day. Plus, there's hardly anyone in the office, which is just how I like it. Oh, and I'm having a fairly decent hair day for a change, so you know, things are looking up. But my Disney morning nearly went pear-shaped when I headed to the office kitchen for my breakfast. (Yes, I eat it here at work because there's never enough time at home, and that's just how I roll.) I was disappointed that my lovely yoghurt which I had left in the fridge had far surpassed its sell-by date. I wasn't brave enough to risk food poisoning so I tossed it away, knowing that I still had a full box of Jungle Oats on top of the fridge.

So you can imagine how pissed off I was when I discovered somebody had helped themself to my Jungle Oats and had finished off the entire box!!!!!!! WTF? Really, people! If you really wanted some of my brekkie, you could've asked and I would gladly have given you some. But to just help yourself, and SCOFF THE WHOLE BOX? And it was a big box too. Seriously, what's wrong with these people? I even wrote my name on the box. It's not higher grade. If that's not your name, then that's not your food. Arg! So irritating.

I'm not going to let a stupid thing like breakfast ruin my day (though really, it's the principle of it all) but to the saddo who polished off my porridge, Karma's a bitch, and I hope it bites you in the ass.

TGIF x infinity and beyond

1. I'm insanely glad it's Friday. In preparation for the lovely sundowner(s) I'm about to enjoy, I'm spending my last few minutes in the office doing absolutely nothing. It's surprisingly easy considering I shut down mentally about six hours ago. (Yep, no one's going to accuse me of being Employee-of-the-Month.)

2. It's been 'one of those weeks' and so I have nothing positive to say. I'll try again next week, but in the meantime, let's all enjoy a good perve over our good friend, Hugh. Apparently he's been named sexiest man 2008, though let's face it - we didn't need some stupid poll to tell us that!

Sweet dreams, kids. Catch you on the flipside...

Hamba Kahle, Mama Afrika

This morning, South Africa woke to the news that Miriam Makeba had died. Apparently she was taking part in a concert in Italy when she fell ill. She passed away a few hours later.

Miriam Makeba made her musical debut in the 1950s, at a time when the oppressive apartheid regime ruled the country with an iron fist. Before long, she moved to England, where she collaborated with artists such as Harry Belafonte, who helped her move to the US. Makeba was extremely unpopular in the eyes of the apartheid regime, and when she tried to return to South Africa to attend her mother’s funeral, she found her passport had been revoked. Three years later, the government also revoked her South African citizenship and her right to ever return to her country of birth. She was officially in exile. Her music was somewhat political in nature, and An Evening with Belafonte/Makeba (which was about the political plight of black South Africans) earned her a Grammy Award. Makeba testified at a special United Nations hearing about the atrocities of the apartheid regime in 1963. Much later, in 1986 she won the Dag Hammarskjöld Peace Prize for her role as a delegate to the United Nations.

30 Odd years after being forced into exile, Nelson Mandela convinced her to come home to South Africa.

Mama Afrika (as she was fondly called) had a unique musical style. Her trademark song was Pata Pata, The Click Song (Qongqothwane in Xhosa) and it epitomises Makeba’s inimitable style. (Check it out on iTunes if you have the chance.)

Hamba Kahle, Mama Afrika. Hamba Kahle.

Three little things I learnt over the weekend...

01. When a man you don't know very well asks you out for dinner, it's not necessarily a date per se. (You may think it is, but it's wise to double-check. Because you may be wrong. Go figure.) It could just be dinner.

02. Waxing any part of your body is just as sore as they say it is, if not more so. (pain x infinity = baby smooth)

03. The house white wine at Peddlars is incredibly bad. (It comes with its own froth.) It should not be drunk by ANYONE. Ever.

Now please, use these little pearls of wisdom wisely...

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Bring on the Man Buffet

Whew! It's been a hectic couple of weeks but I'm still here to tell the story, so I guess that's something, right? I finished my assignments (and submitted the last one 3 minutes before the cut-off. Nothing like a little drama) and then got stuck into a week long workshop that my company sent me on. Quite interesting - all about managerial skills blah blah blah. Only problem is, it would appear that this little minion is never going to have to worry about a promotion / salary increase / personal growth at work because they practically keep me locked in the dungeon, chained to my PC. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. But seriously, they should've saved their money and bought me a big bottle of wine instead. All the course did was make me feel rather revolutionary. So now I'm mulling my next move. Mutiny, perhaps? Will see. I might just wait till after Christmas.

Anyhoo, in amidst stressing about my studies and work stuff, I also toddled along to my very first (are you ready for this)... (wait for it)... round of SPEED DATING!!! Yes, that's right. Months of nagging from my friends and some curiousity finally got the better of me, and so I signed up. And what a blast! (Though in case you're wondering, no - I'm not married / engaged / in lurve / etc. [So it wasn't that good.]) It was held at a local restaurant, and I kinda expected them to be quite discreet about it (room in the back, secret password, etc). But no. There was a big long table at the front of the restaurant and there sat a Man Buffet of about 12 guys of all shapes, sizes, races and nationalities. It felt like Christmas. I gratefully accepted my glass of complimentary (and much needed) bubbly and sat down across from bachelor number one. Totally psyched. Once everyone arrived, the evening officially started and I proceeded to spend about 5 minutes with each guy. Of course, 5 minutes isn't very long and I pretty much got the same questions from most guys. What do you do? Whereabouts do you live? What's your star sign? Are you married? (Dude, would I be here if I was?!?!?)

The guys themselves were like a big packet of Liquourice All-Sorts. Everything from a plumber to a lawyer. Black, white, coloured and even Chinese. Some quiet and shy. Some not so much. (Joseph, the male nurse from Cameroon, assured me that as a Scorpio he was an ace love-maker, and that he would 'look after me like a lee...eetle egg' [Run!]) But for the most part, the guys were really nice.

There was, however, a catch. 'Seems SABC 3 is doing some doccie thing where they follow a couple of guys around the city, and one of the things they end up doing is speed dating. So on both ends of the Man Buffet sat particularly gorgeous specimens, complete with cameramen, lighting guys and one of those fluffy hanging mike things. So much for discretion. I definitely got the impression that they were there purely for the sake of the doccie and had absolutely no interest in meeting girlies through speed dating, so in that sense, it was a waste of time. Plus, their producer also took part in the speed dating, but I'm willing to bet my right kidney that he was gay, so really - where's the use in that??!?!? (I really hope they don't use any of the footage with me in it. I tried very hard to ruin my shots by talking into the camera. Either way, it'll probably air in June next year, which gives me plenty of time to leave town, change my name and dye my hair a different colour.)

So, after all that, I ended up with a couple of matches, though nothing too mind blowing. Nice guys though, so it's not all for nought. And it's definitely much easier than going on a blind date.

Me and a couple of my new buddies

Some of the lads took the concept of Man Buffet far too literally

The 'No-Shirt' policy threw me a bit, but who was I to complain?

Yo, listen up! Blog Action Day: POVERTY

When it comes to the subject of poverty… seriously, where do you begin? It’s everywhere you look, everywhere you go. Of course, that’s to varying degrees. In an African context, poverty is a factor we live with everyday to the point where the man in the street has become somewhat complacent about the issue. On top of news stories of starving children and homeless families, there’s the everyday aspect. It’s rare to stop at a traffic intersection without being approached by at least one person, asking for money.

So what can we do? If you’re like me, then chances are you don’t have the odd million stored in the bank waiting for a person or organisation in need. Let’s face it, times are tough for everyone and so in spite of your truly altruistic personality, sometimes handing over oodles of moola just isn’t an option. So then what? Well what about the concept of ‘pay it forward’? Random acts of kindness, however small, go a long way in making a difference in our world. For the most part, kindness doesn’t cost a cent, and call me naïve, but I’m convinced compassion and kindness make a difference. So you can’t fork out money to every guy that asks for a handout. But you can pay him the respect and dignity he deserves as a human being.

On top of that, there are lots of projects on the go that tackle poverty in different ways. Be it a Shoebox Collection (more on that later) or helping out on a Habitat for Humanity initiative, every little bit goes a long way. Next week, my company is doing its CSI bit by helping to build houses at one of the nearby townships, Mfuleni. I’ll update this with more details later, but it’s a great project where over a period of five days, we’re going build two houses for families that don’t need a home. I’ll be there on Day 5, getting stuck in and doing what I can. Nothing glamourous there folks, but I’m going to try my damndest to make a hard hat and work gloves look fab! (‘Wonder if they come in pink?… )

But seriously, if you look around, there are lots of ways to get involved in tackling poverty in your neighbourhood, state, country, whatever. Remember, it starts small, so do your bit to make a little difference and together we’ll make a big change!

Time ain't on my side...

Oh crap. Having just checked the calendar, it seems there are only 9 sleeps left until I have to submit the last two assignments due on the 15th. (I need to write these assignments, otherwise they won't let me write the exam.) It's particularly worrying seeing as I have a couple of nasty work deadlines to contend with this week, and next week I'm being sent on some arb (attendance mandatory) work course. BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! I've just taken a look at one of the assignment questions and it seems I have mistakenly read the wrong book. Dumb-ass! Now I have some serious catching up to do before I can even tackle the assignments.


So guess I'll be back after the 15th, then. No red wine or happy times for me. Time to knuckle down and cram like there's no tomorrow. No rest for the wicked.

Pity party at my place. BYOB.

Exactly one year ago today, I gazed down on Paris from the top floor of the Eiffel Tower and spent the rest of day exploring the vast halls of the Louvre. Magic.

And now here I am, a whole year later... Stuck at work, trudging through piles of crappy work while being driven near crazy by a colleague's squeaky chair noises. What's wrong with this picture?!?! (Oh woe is me...)

It's come to this...

Oh hello Mr President

Its been a really interesting couple of weeks. Not so much on a personal note, but most certainly on a political level. Sorry for the incessant 'state of the nation' waffle but seriously, this stuff is huge!

So the other week, Zuma was told that the fraud and corruption charges against him were unlawful, based on a mere technicality. Yet it was this technicality that resulted in Thabo Mbeki being 'recalled' and now here we are - two weeks since the Zuma hearing and the country has a new president. Wow. President Kgalema Motlanthe has around seven months to get used to his new title before the next elections, at which point Zuma is likely to take his place, but in the meantime, here's hoping Motlanthe can do some powerful, positive stuff. It's been a good start so far. Already we have a new Minister of Health which is a really, really great thing. They booted out Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. She's the alcoholic thief who wanted the nation to combat HIV/Aids with garlic and beetroot. (Yup, she's special.) Thankfully they've replaced Manto with a woman by the name of Barbara Hogan, and hopefully she'll bring the change our health care system so desperately needs. About bloody time. Apparently on the night the announcement was made, the TAC was so happy that some of their members serenaded the new health minister from below her balcony. Sweet! :)

Yup, definitely been a bit of a roller coaster ride in terms of politics over the last couple of weeks. Only time will tell if things are going to get better.

On another totally irrelevant note, my new mobile arrived the other day. It's an HTC Touch and it's a whack-load more advanced than my trusty old Samsung D900. It'll take me a while to get used to the new interface but so far I'm pretty happy with it. It feels like a grown-up phone but I guess at the ripe ol' age of 31, it's about time. Pity I couldn't get my paws on an iPhone - that would've been first prize, and I feel like a bit of a sell-out going with a PC-based device, but what can you do. Whatever.

This is what my pretty little phone looks like... Touch screen, so no keypad. I feel very sophisticated using a stylus, even if it's just for a quick round of Solitaire. (Ooh, loser!)

Is pretty, no?

Anyway, this has been a pretty 'blah' post - sorry for that. Will try to be more entertaining next time 'round.



P.S. I watched the entire Season 1 of Boston Legal over the weekend, and I now have a mini crush on James Spader. Is that normal? Hopefully it'll pass.

The future Mr Fluffy Pink Thing

Ponder this, kids

'Came across this video on Lyndonology and thought it was pretty cool. Check it out. (You may want to grab a cuppa while the whole thing downloads before watching it though...)


Fifty People, One Question: Restored from Benjamin Reece on Vimeo.

Nice, hey? Simple yet intriguing question and well done. Dig the music.

On a less pleasant but equally entertaining note, I found this story online today. It's about a woman who got tough on her boyfriend when he refused to do the dishes. And by tough, read: she opened up a can of whip-ass on him, throwing in a couple of bites (not the love kind) and a whack in the face with a picture frame, before the big finish which included trying to finish him off with a sword. A SWORD!!! Go large or go home, hey?!? (Relax. Her aim was sucky and she missed.) Yeah, I know it's not supposed to be funny but c'mon! Who hasn't been pushed to borderline postal by these sort of things. Anyway, the (ex?) boyfriend lived to tell the tale and has no doubt since invested in a really good dishwasher.

Who's a good boy then?

Yes. You are, Buddy. Oh yes you are!

This morning, as I was trying to break the land speed record in an attempt to get to work on time (FAIL!) I heard this story on Cape Talk's news bulletin. It was about this guy (called Joe) in the States whose German Shepard saved his life by dialling 911! Hello!

You see Buddy (the pooch) is trained to recognise the signs of a seizure. He then high-tails it (ooh, bad pun) to a specially-designed phone and holds down a keypad key for no less than three seconds. This speed dials 911.

So the other day when poor Joe had a rather large seizure, our boy Buddy rose to the occasion and called 911. And then (get this!) as soon as he heard the operator's voice, he started whining into the receiver!!!!! Joe's number was already registered with the 911 guys because he's apparently prone to big, hectic seizures and so when, the operator heard Buddy's whining on the other end of the line, she immediately despatched an ambulance.

How great is that?!?!?! What an amazing dog! I doubt very much my cat would do the same for me. In fact, she probably wouldn't notice that I wasn't breathing until long after she had finished her kitty chow, at which point she'd probably starting eating my cold, stiff fingers.

Okay, so the dog in this picture is not Buddy, but they probably look the same.
Only imagine this one a little older and playing 'fetch' with 911 instead of a tennis ball.

My political bitch 'n moan du jour

Oh kids, it's on. Right now, our good friend JZ is sitting in Pietermaritzburg listening to the court's verdict on whether or not the charges against him are lawful.

(Little recap: Jacob Zuma, president of the ANC and most likely Thabo's successor as president of South Africa is facing corruption (2) and fraud (12) charges. Zuma wants these charges declared unlawful because the State did not consult him before going ahead with the prosecution. [?!?!?!?] On top of that, Zuma is also facing racketering and money-laundering charges. Nice.)

So yes, everyone is waiting with bated breath to see what happens - especially Zuma's buddies in the tripartite alliance (ANC, COSATU and SACP). Of course, we can't forget the eloquently subtle Julius Malema - president of the ANC Youth League(ANCYL), who has organised a huge party with a line up of bands, streamers and party hats to celebrate an outcome that gets Zuma off the hook. (Yo Julius, didn't your mama ever tell you about not counting your chickens before they hatch? Hmmmm... guess not.)

The court should announce the verdict soon, but I must say, I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm hoping that they won't find the charges unlawful because really, that would be ridiculous! If Zuma is indeed innocent of the corruption and fraud charges then he can prove it to everyone at his trial. But to get off scott-free without a trial - where's the justice in that.

If, however, Judge Nicholson finds the charges 'lawful' then I think there's going to be quite a backlash - especially from the ANCYL. Malema has been so vocal about being prepared to kill for Zuma. Not great. And now that he's gathering a huge crowd and has got all his members psyched up for a celebratory party later today, what's going to happen if things don't go their way.

On the other hand, if the corruption and fraud charges are declared unlawful then what a complete travesty of justice!!! The path will then be cleared for Zuma to take the presidency of the country, in spite of the cloud of suspicion which will never be proved true or false. Sure, there will be those other little charges but I doubt those keep Zuma awake at night.

Hmmm... now we just have to wait and see. Right now the judge is waffling on with lots of legal speak. I wish he'd just cut to the chase and give the verdict.

Anyway, in the meantime, here's an update to Zapiro's cartoon. This one was published this morning. There's been such contraversy over the cartoon and I do agree that it's harsh and blunt. But it's satirical and not racial or gender based. Here's today's version.



Okay, the verdict has been given. Charges proven unlawful.

Crap.

Zapiro for president!

It seems the ANC have their collective knickers in a sweaty knot after this cartoon was published by the Sunday Times this weekend past.



Spot on, Zapiro! You deserve a standing ovation, a big MWAH, a bonus, an increase, an overseas trip and a new iPod for having the balls to put this out there. Seriously, the entire situation is a complete farce and yet these guys are getting away with it. What happened to democracy and people's rights???

I'm pretty sure Zapiro is going to have another lawsuit on his hands because of this, but it's worth it.

Zapiro: 15
Zuma and his cronies: love

Show and tell

My poor little neglected blog... it's been a while. I've spent so much time stalking other blogs that I've pretty much forgotten mine existed. So time for a catch-up. The last few weeks have entailed a couple of 'firsts' for me. Here they are...

My First Fashion Show

Oh-so-Sex and the City! It was Cape Town Fashion Week here recently and a friend had a few comps for the Maya Prass show. So I glammed myself up best I could and sashayed (sp?) over to the Convention Centre. It was just like on TV. In fact, it was on TV! (Well, there were a couple of TV cameras and strange looking [read: German] presenters.) We found our seats (sadly, sans goodie bags. I do love a good goodie bag. Sigh...) and waited for the show to begin. That took a while which gave us ample time to check out our surroundings. Hardly surprising, it was very much a fashion / designer sort of crowd, and some of the outfits people wore were hilarious. (Not talking about the models.) It was really the lads that got dressed up and one particular number a guy wore branded my mind. He wore a shiny sparkly green catsuit thingie that was less than flattering and not particularly manly. Then again, I don't think manly was the look he was aiming for. Ahem. moving on... The show itself was good, though it was over in a flash. But I quite like Maya Prass stuff, though I doubt I'd wear most of it. In all, it was a fun experience - pretty boys and all. Word to the wise, though. A fashion show holds zero prospect of meeting men. Unless you're gay. In which case, wear something nice and double up on the cologne because son, chances are you're going to get very lucky!
Speaking of men, my next 'first'...

My First Blind Date (awwww, sweet...)

More like arggghhhh!!!! Though it really wasn't that bad. It was more the sheer terror of having to meet up with a complete stranger. What if he was a weirdo? Or really short? Or a pig? Or what if he was really hot and thought I was a short, weirdo pig?!?!? What if he got me drunk and tried to take advantage of me? What if he didn't get me drunk and try to take advantage of me? Pressure, pressure, pressure! Well, luckily for me he's really sweet and we had a nice time together. I'm not going to say any more on the matter in case I give said blind date my blog addy in some wine-induced moment of dumb-assness. A girl has to keep some things to herself. But on blind dating, I have this to say - it wasn't that bad and in all fairness it was quite liberating! Definitely like going on a job interview but one where you don't have to sneak the wine! :)

Well that's it for the firsts. I could've sworn there were more but I'm drawing a blank! But it's been a good few weeks. I went on an amazing Feature Writing course last week that left me feeling incredibly inspired! Funny thing is, my company paid for me to go on the course, and now that I've been on it, I'm dying to give up my day job and join the circus. Okay, no - maybe not the circus. But definitely a job that involves more creative writing. This copywriting thing has been fun but I think it's time to get off the ride. Anyway, it was a great couple of days. The workshop was hosted by Les Aupiais and there were about five other women in the class - all of them older than me. It was fantastic to spend a couple of days with such strong, powerful women. It was pretty stressful at times too but I had a great time!!!

Well anyway, enough waffling on that. Here are a couple of pics to end off with.

(Nice. Real nice!)

(This is why I went on that blind date)

Funny like that

This is what I call a cheat post - posting borrowed stuff that I came across via e-mail. But it's funny.



10 WAYS TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE “ESTROGEN ISSUES”

1. Everyone around you has an attitude problem.
2. You’re adding chocolate chips to your cheese omelet.
3. The dryer has shrunk every last pair of your jeans.
4. Your husband is suddenly agreeing to everything you say.
5. You’re using your cellular phone to dial up every bumper sticker that says: “How’s my driving-call 1- 800-”.
6. Everyone’s head looks like an invitation to batting practice.
7. Everyone seems to have just landed here from “outer space”.
9 You’re sure that everyone is scheming to drive you crazy.
10. The ibuprofen bottle is empty and you bought it yesterday.





PREGNANCY FAQ

Q: Should I have a baby after 35?
A: No, 35 children is enough.

Q: I’m two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?
A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q: What is the most reliable method to determine a baby’s sex?
A: Childbirth.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she’s borderline irrational.
A: So what’s your question?

Q: My childbirth instructor says it’s not pain I’ll feel during labor, but pressure. Is she right?
A: Yes, in the same way that a tornado might be called an air current.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?
A: Right after you find out you’re pregnant.

Q: Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in labor?
A: Not unless the word “alimony” means anything to you.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?
A: Yes, pregnancy.

Q: Do I have to have a baby shower?
A: Not if you change the baby’s diaper very quickly.

Q: Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act normal again?
A: When the kids are in college.




Ha ha! I hope you're at least smiling...

Where are your jeanpants?

Being a blogger myself, I spend quite a bit of time reading other people's blogs. Needless to say, there are many, many brilliant blogs out there that make my little contribution look like, well... crap. I'm so impressed by all the gorgeous designs and so it's inspired me to work on mine. That's the reason why I haven't been posting much - I want to get everything up and running, so I can put my old blog out of its misery. Still working on it... watch this space.

But I just had to blog about something that happened yesterday... Remember a while back I was moaning about my neighbour who phoned to complain about my cat. Well, since then nothing much has changed. He hasn't phoned me since, but I'm sure my kitty still goes into his place. Now that his cats are getting bigger though, they're also getting quite adventurous and the other week I found his male cat in my bedroom. Anyway, what can you do?

So last night at around 7, I was upstairs in my room, trying on stuff that I had bought at the Woolies sale when the most horrific, blood-curling cat screams started up! Half undressed, I ran to the window but couldn't see anything. So I skedaddled downstairs, somehow managing to get back into my jeans by the time I reached the front door. The horrible noises were coming from the bushes in the furthest corner of my little garden, but before I could reach it, I was distracted by the sight of my neighbour on our dividing wall (which is really, really high) dressed in only his T-shirt and jocks!!!! WTF? Now it's not everyday I find a half naked man on my garden wall, but I was brought back to reality by the continuing kitty screams. To cut a long story short, the neighbour found his way into my garden and together we coaxed our respective kitties out. For the record, mine (who's face was bleeding) was miaowing pitifully while his (apparently called 'Heino'!?!) was hissing like some demon spawn. Both kitties were terrified.

By this time, it apparently dawned on the neighbour that all he was wearing was his jocks, and while holding onto 'Heino', he modestly used his free hand to tug his jocks to cover his 'manly bits'. Poor dude! I almost felt sorry for him until he started talking to his cat in a baby voice, 'Shame, did you fall into the wrong garden'. I felt like replying for the cat: 'Fall, my ass. I intentionally entered the garden next door because I am the new tom cat on the block and I kinda felt like pissing off the cat next door. Mwah ha ha ha...' But I bit my tongue.

So that's how my weekend ended. Half naked men and pissed-off pussies. All in a day's work.

Read any good books lately?

Well would'ya look at that... a whole month since my last blog. I'm sorry. 'Just been totally swamped with lots of life stuff. Though that's no excuse...

Anyway, 'found this list thing on Expensive Mistakes and Cheap Thrills' blog and thought it was kinda fun. Take a look:

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you started but did not finish.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Highlight the ones you still want to read but just have not had a chance yet!
5) Reprint this list in your own blog so we can try and track down these people who’ve read 6 or less and force books upon them.

1. The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
2. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
3. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
4. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
5. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
6. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
7. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
8. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
9. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
10. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
11. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
12. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
13. His Dark Materials (trilogy) - Philip Pullman
14. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
15. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
16. The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkien
17. Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger
18. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
19. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
20. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
21. Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis
22. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis
23. Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
24. Animal Farm - George Orwell
25. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
26. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
27. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
28. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
29. Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
30. Hamlet - William Shakespeare
31. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
32. Complete Works of Shakespeare
33. Ulysses - James Joyce
34. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
35. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
36. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
37. The Bible
38. The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
39. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
40. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
41. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
42. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
45. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
46. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
47. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
48. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
49. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
50. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
51. Little Women - Louisa M. Alcott
52. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
53. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
54. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
55. Middlemarch - George Eliot.
56. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
57. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
58. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
59. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
60. Emma - Jane Austen
61. Persuasion - Jane Austen
62. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
63. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
64. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
65. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
66. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
67. Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery
68. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
69. Atonement - Ian McEwan
70. Dune - Frank Herbert
71. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
72. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
73. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
74. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
75. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
76. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
77. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
78. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
79. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
80. Bridget Jones’ Diary - Helen Fielding
81. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
82. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
83. Dracula - Bram Stoker
84. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
85. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
86. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
87. Germinal - Emile Zola
88. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
89. Possession - A.S. Byatt
90. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
91. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
92. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
93. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
94. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
95. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
96. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
97. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
98. Watership Down – Richard Adams
99. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
100. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

Cool, there you have it.

By the way, I've just finished reading the latest Marian Keyes - good read! (This Charming Man). If you're into her stuff and haven't yet read it, well, what are you waiting for? :)

Okay, bye for now.

Is it home time yet?...

Well winter is here with a vengeance, though I guess that's not surprising, seeing as the winter solstice is almost upon us. Still, today is definitely duvet weather which is why it's almost criminal to be stuck at work. And with the mountain of tasks ever increasing, my motivation levels are bottoming-out. I've definitely reached that 'stare-at-the-screen-and-wait-for home-time' phase of the day.

Anyway, at least it's a short week. YAY for that. Last weekend was quite good. It started off with breakfast at the Table Bay hotel which was really nice. My friend Des and I went through for an 'author breakfast' where Alexander McCall Smith was the guest speaker. It was a brilliant morning and the gorgeous goodie bags were the cherry on top. Stunning!

After having our books signed, we toddled off to grab a drink at Ferryman's, which meant parking in the Waterfront parking area. We had a great time but were robbed blind at the end. No, not by nasty knife-wielding Cape Town criminals. Nope, we was robbed by the Waterfront. The parking cost R40 for about three hours. Shocking. Such a tourist trap - I should've known better. What made it worse was that after handing over my hard-earned moola, I drove to the booms to find them OPEN. Paid R40 for nothing. Grrrrrrr...

It seems everything is sky-rocketing lately. I filled my car up with petrol the other morning and left feeling positively violated. R450 to fill up my chariot! And believe me, my chariot is one of the smaller models. Awoooo...

Well, onto more positive things. I'm taking a very long weekend because it's my birthday on Monday and I really do believe no one should be at work on their birthday. (Unless your work colleagues are prone to showering you with gifts. Mine aren't.) So the prospect of a few days away from the office makes me very, very happy!

One last thing - the Wacky Wine Weekend was fantastic, though the weather was shocking. The best part was that we had a designated driver who drove a combi big enough for us all to fit in. What a pleasure! You'll be pleased to know that I was a reasonably responsible wine taster, and that the wheels only fell off after dinner. Thankfully, dinner was had at the place we were staying. That place also had a bar, which led to the afore-mentioned fallen-off wheels. Oh well, what's a girl to do? And what doesn't destroy the ol' kidneys makes them stronger, right? Hmmmm... maybe not.

(Another goodie from the guys at ShoeBox)

Powerful yet contemplative ducks

Lately, I've come across random yet deep little messages. Not the usual voices in the head kinda stuff. More like things in passing that have a greater impact than I imagine was originally intended.

For example, I was moaning to my mum about my dumb-ass neighbour and as always, she took my side. She also told me not to let him have the power. 'Take back the power.' Hmmmm...

A few days later, I was reading a Women24.com newsletter that discussed gender issues in the workplace. The author used a duck metaphor that really got me thinking... She said when things are getting you mad and pissed off, 'be the duck'. In other words, be calm and composed on the outside, even though you're spitting mad on the inside. I liked that analogy because I'm fairly emotional at the best of times and so when people rain on my parade, you can read me like a book. Most particularly in work situations (and you know how it is, if a man loses it at work he's seen as 'passionate' whereas when a woman loses it, she's frowned upon as being too emotional).
Anyway, 'be the duck'. I liked that.

Then last night I watched an Oprah rerun (stop rolling your eyes) and she had Elizabeth Gilbert on her show. Now Ms Gilbert wrote the hugely popular Eat, Pray, Love - a book I happened to read fairly recently, even though it looked suspiciously like a religious self-help book (I detest those). It wasn't. Well, not entirely. It's the memoir of a thirty-something woman who reached a point in her life where she had to admit to herself that she wasn't happy. She had everything that was supposed to make her 'happy' and yet it wasn't enough. So she packed her bags and embarked on a year long journey to Italy, India and Bali - in search of INNER happiness. I won't lie to you, religion played a role for Gilbert, but what struck a chord for me was the courage it took her to stop and start again. Nevermind heading off into geographic territory that held no familiarities or comfort. Very Good Book. Oprah had Gilbert on as a follow-up to a previous show which showcased the book. Last night's episode was about the impact the book had on readers. Some of it was very much Oprah-fied, but there were a couple of stories that demanded nothing but sheer admiration. People who had the courage to acknowledge that they weren't satisfied or happy and then started on a new journey towards that frikken' allusive goal.

So, these are my three things. Multi-mantra, if you will. Take Back the Power (I need to stop letting the small things get to me); Be the Duck (take a deep breath... and exhale) and Find the Courage and Time to work on what really makes me tick.

In anticipation of my newly found 'resolutions', I set my alarm clock for 7am - half an hour earlier than usual so I could get up, have a cup of tea and enjoy some quiet contemplation time before throwing myself into the rat race. Sadly, I am (ashamed) to report that I slept in and only gained consciousness at around 8. I was very late for work - again. But I'm going to try again tomorrow...

'And you may ask yourself, well... how did I get here?'

Well, the last few weeks at work have been pretty much diabolical, to say the least - reinforcing my firm belief that this work thing is for the birds. I'll spare you the pathetic details but let's just say I'm really beginning to grudge spending my precious time here. Time for a change of scenery and perhaps even a change of career, me thinks. Ah, the tragedy of the working middle-class. So amidst all this debilitating and soul-destroying drama, I welcome all distractions. Especially on this particularly cold Monday morning. An hour away from lunch time, and apart from an overly extended morning meeting, I've gotten nothing done. No point in starting now. I'll write a quick post and then knuckle down after lunch.

So last Wednesday, I found myself at Grandwest watching the gorgeous James Blunt crooning his self-admittedly sometimes-miserable ditties. Oh boys and girls, it was a very, very good concert - he's so much better live than he sounds on his studio albums. (Quite rare, don't you think?) He performed a good mix from both albums and gave a pretty damn good show. It was also the first time I'd been to a concert at that venue. I had my doubts initially - I've just never been a fan of casinos and Grandwest is in the less-than-pretty area of Goodwood. But the venue size was decent, the seating (yes, it was a seated show - I guess that's old age setting in) was spacious. The acoustics were also really good. So in all, the concert scored a fabulous 5 out of 5! The only drawback was being surrounded by great music while confined to a chair. Other than that, awesome! Needless to say, I've since been listening to lots of James in the car... at home... and right now my iPod is filling my head with all things Blunt. Nice...

Last week was one I was looking forward to as it also saw the release of the Sex and the City movie. So on Saturday, I watched the last episode of season 6 then headed for Cavendish were I was finally able to catch up on what the girls have been up to since they left TV airwaves. What can I say - of course the movie was fabulous. That goes without saying. Though it also left me feeling a little sad. I'm not sure if it's because things don't always work out the way you want them to (no surprise there) or if it's because this really is 'goodbye'. Then again, maybe it's because I've been listening to too much sad JB. ;) Anyway, I enjoyed the flick on a few levels, though I must admit I prefer the episodes to the movie. Being a feature film, it was less intimate than the 22 minute instalments, and in some bits it was a little clichéd. But on the whole, it was great and as for those outfits... FABULOUS!

Okay, so that's pretty much my news for the past few days. Only five more sleeps 'til the weekend (sad, hey?) and I'm particularly looking forward to this one because I'm off to the Wacky Wine Festival. Haven't had a weekend away in a VERY LONG TIME! So roll on Friday...

Grab your Manolos and a cosmo refill...

Okay, so maybe it's insanely clichéd, but I'm really, really, really looking forward to the Sex and the City movie, which opens this week! In the build-up, I've been watching my SATC boxsets and at the moment, I'm finishing up Season 6 to coincide with the movie release. It opens on Thursday but I'll catch it over the weekend, preferably in the morning. ('Not keen on queuing up with lots of girlies who are watching the movie only because they think it'll make them fabulous.)

I've also just ordered the SATC OST! 'Checked it out on iTunes, and let me tell you, it sounds pretty damn good. So that should be arriving in the next week or so. Now I just need to figure out how to sneak lovely chilled cosmos into the movie theatre... Hmmm...

Sweet kitteh vs bad neighbour - Round 1

Fumes. I'm surrounded by them - and I gotsta tell you - they're intoxicating. Sadly, they're not the good kind of fumes. They're stinky nail polish fumes. Thing is, the powers that be in the company I work for have taken pity on us minions, and have treated us to a 'wellness week'.

Yesterday, the guys from Discovery Health came in, pin-pricked our fingers, took our measurements and read us our fortune. The good news is my cholesterol is A-OK (must be all that red wine!) though my blood pressure is little low. The worst part though was the BMI crap stuff - there's no feeling of 'wellness' in having complete strangers weigh and measure you. Whatever. Anyway, back to those fumes. Today being day two, they set up a mini spa in one of the boardrooms and I had a mini-manicure. How fab for me! I went with dark red talons and I think they look pretty damn hot, though as I said, they reek. So much so, it has prevented me from working. Instead I've been surfing the web and checking out some blogs. (I'm a little concerned that my blog is dead-boring and considering I've been waffling on about my painted nails, I rest my case. So I'll keep this brief.)

I had a nice weekend. Wound down on the Sunday by going to a chick-flick (Made of Honor). I came out feeling quite chipper until I switched on my mobile and found a message from my neighbour. Him and his girlfriend moved in quite recently and I haven't really had a chance to suss them out, due in large to their lack of 'passing neighbour friendliness'. Imagine my horror when I listened to his voice mail which detailed how my cat had apparently 'broken' into their home and viciously attacked their 'animals'!!! WTF?!?!?

(To put you in the picture, my cat (Phoebe) is a lovely pussycat who is terrified of each fellow member of her feline species, as well as pizza delivery boys. She's sweet and lovely, and unless you're a gecko, completely harmless. )

I immediately phoned the Tosser back to find out more. According to his sob story, Phoebe is in their place very often (doubtful), especially in the middle of the night (blatant lie) and has viciously attacked said Tosser's three-month old kittens (oh puhleeeeeeze!) I asked him if he had witnessed this so-called attack and no, he hadn't but he suspects it was Phoebe. What a jerk! The 'hood is riddled with bad-ass tom cats who are 'itchin' for a beatin' but as none of them wear tags and collars, there's no proof.

He told me I need to sort out my cat. Okay Dumb-ass, I'll give her a stern talking to and read her the riot act. Whatever. I told him to keep his windows closed so his kittens don't become cat food. And we kinda left it at that. What a jerk.

Not that I need to prove my apparently-bad kitty's innocence or anything but here are a couple of pics I have of her...

I ask you, does this look to you like an evil cat?

I mean, c'mon...

But hey, if it's war he wants, it's war he'll get. Bring it.

Okay, typing not good for newly gorgeous nails. Must go home now....

Mwah ha ha...

(great word...)

schadenfreude \SHOD-n-froy-duh\, noun:

A malicious satisfaction obtained from the misfortunes of others.

RIP little buddies

It is with great sadness that I must announce the sudden and tragic passing of my Lionhead goldfish - Sybil, Fred and Shorty.

Sybil and Fred lived happy lives and spent many hours circling the tank and re-acquainting themselves with each other. Sybil's favourite past-time was floating upside down and playing dead. She played this game for the last time a month ago when she went belly-up and never awoke.

Fred was understandably sad at the passing of his tank mate, but being the great little fishy he was, bravely soldiered on. When Shorty joined him in the tank, he warmly welcomed the new arrival. Sadly, Shorty lived up to his name and was with us for a tragically short time. After a mere two and a half weeks, he gave up the will to live. Shorty passed away peacefully on Tuesday morning. He will be missed.

Poor grief-stricken Fred was clearly traumatised by the sudden passing of the only friends he ever knew and, after his little heart broke, he too passed. A moving flushing ceremony took place last night (Wednesday).

It is my sincere hope that Sybil, Fred and Shorty have found eternal peace in the Big Pond in the Sky, where there are no dodgy cats watching them and fishy food flakes are in abundance. Each little fish was special in their individual way and will be sorely missed. Swim free, little buddies. Swim free.

The Owl and the Pussycat

Great poem:

The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are."
Pussy said to the Owl "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?"
Said the Piggy, "I will"
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.