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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