Epic Recovery...

P.S – I recovered phenomenally well from recent DTM horror episode.

Apparently the recipient thought my late night antics were amusing not whorish. (pphhheew! thank goodness)

There may still be hope...

Flop Turn What...

It’s poker night!

It’s poker night!

Those were the squeals that came from the 3 of us ladies, as we “faffed” with canapés and uncorking bottles of pink champers courtesy of Bon Courage (wine weekend a few weeks back)

I use the term canapés very lightly – chunks of bree over baguette drizzled in honey isn’t “French” or “petite” enough to be considered a canapé – apparently!

The boys  were due to teach us to play, but being kind to the fact that we were all novices, the idea was poker with sweets!

No exchange of cash required!

Note to self:  do not play poker where your  “cash or chips” are edible!

Especially when your R100’s are the yummiest sweets around.

I was bankrupt 32 minutes into the game, and screaming FLOP and TURN in the RIVER hysterically, whilst munching on toffees...

I love poker night!

No More Texting Whilst Drunk ...

There is a reason that people should be prohibited from TWD = “texting whilst drunk “

If they don’t believe me – use me as the official case study! Go ahead – I give you permission.

After a pretty fabulous wine tasting evening – thanks uncle who owns vineyard -  we returned to the Best Gal Pals house. (BGP)

Shortly after bed time prep – which involved me climbing into bed fully clothed with boots still on - covered in CT street muck, (she must love me as she didn’t kick me out); I decided that now was the perfect time to chat to long lost little cuz via text.

‘lil Cuz is a tad bit younger than myself – which explains why she was in the midst of full party mode on a Friday night, whilst I was almost comatose snug in BGPs bed - at 10:30! – on a Friday night!

Double dose of lamo there!

It’s ok – I’m beyond the point of thinking that’s sad. I like sleep! – more than I like drunk people falling over me!

Anyhoo – ‘lil cuz was determined I come out and party. My brain and body were determined I did not.

So after a last good night text  - wishing her luck on the stalker drive-by of boyfriend to be, I ended our late night vino induced convo with: blah blah blah...."naked virgin tucked safely in bed!”

SEND....

SLEEP!!!

ZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz...

FYI – for all you sicko freaky type of peeps out there reading this - it’s a back in the day joke!

  

Take a guess... yes – I know you know what’s coming next!

I’m not that great at the “shock tactic” type of literature!

  

WRONG NUMBER!

Not just any wrong number...

WRONG NUMBER OF THE INCREDIBLE YUMMY MAN I AM TRYING TO IMPRESS FOR LONG WALKS ON THE BEACH AND POTENTIAL FUN TIMES...

but - I go through life blisfuly unaware as to the error of my ways...

I get a reply – blah blah rah rah blah... “I hope that you don’t normally sent those types of messages to people in the middle of the night – they may get the wrong impression”

You know the feeling; the one where you actually go COLD from fear, and then realization sets in? Yip - it attacked me like one of those Twilight wolves on heat...

ULTIMATE OUTCOME: COMPLETE AND HORRENDOUS DISASTER!!

Am now moving to the Arctic and going to hide in an ice cave somewhere – where it's too cold to be naked and there is no reception.. NONE!!!

The Weather Girl lied...

The weather girl declared it to be a sunny day in CT today.

Best Gal Pal (BGP) and I decided – that the best way to spend such a pretty sunshine Saturday – was to relax on the beach with champers and snackies, and watch the waves tumble by.
If it were summer – this wouldn’t be such a misdirected option. Bikinis here we come!

However – it’s the middle of winter, and the weathergirl lied about one thing!

Yes – the sun may be shining – but it’s still friggin' COLD out!

So we spent some time on the beach – curled up under blue blankie, with Champaign and stinky cheese yumminess.

...30 minutes later...

ME: ok, I'm bored now – can we go home yet?

BGP: no – we are being cultured!

ME: then why are we drinking warm Champaign out of plastic cups?

BGP: because they don’t know that.

ME: Who's “they”?

BGP: them!!! She punts ... eyeing the beach...

I looked around – all I saw was seagulls, and an empty beach... not a single person around!

ME: yeah – they are smart aren't they – THEY all stayed inside today!!!

10 minutes later we were packing up.

After shaking sand out of blanky – and onto EVERYTHING else, I wrapped my shivering body with pale blue lips on the verge of hypothermia up in the shelter of the fluff, and finally got back into the warmth of the car.

BGP: Hey Linus – you going to eventually let that thing go?

Me: NO!! NEVER!!!

Me: now let’s go – I want ice-cream!

BGP: %#$*&^%$ off!

Me: Love you too...

Waste No More...

So ... I spent approximately an entire week of my life (which I can’t get back by the way) eagerly waiting for UH#2 to call.

Yes – I am aware that it’s a tad “sad”...

Then I attacked the Woolies comfort food, and was somewhat calmed.

Thank you God for creating chocolate! You truly are a magnificent woman!

I spent a moment being pissed at technology (is my cell not receiving phonecalls / SMS''?)

Another moment being angry at him (to be honest – am not sure why / how this is all his fault, but I’m sure if I sat and thought about it – I’d be able to spin it in an appropriate angle accordingly)

And another moment being angry at myself (primarily for allowing myself to actually be angry at some dude who clearly isn't into me as much as I'd like him to be.)

No need to waste another minute pondering what if etc... CT is full of single and keen yumminess!

And then just as fate would have it, I indulged in a glass and a half of Pierre Jordaan and the company of a fabulous German tourist, who I just happened to meet at the Mount Nellie...

And look at that – I was swiftly over it/him ...

... Just like that!

Oh, The Pain...

Have the unbelievable urge to devour an entire tub of Woolies chocolate mouse... all on my own!

I want to know if there is a cure for this type of thing?

I know sharing is caring - but I've never been one to let others play with my toys...

Holding off as best I can... ohw! The pain!
It's ONLY 10AM!!!

A Week Ticks By - So Slowly...

It’s been a week! 1 whole entire week!... and he still has not called!

In case I never mentioned it previously, UH#2 took my cell number at the meat-market. RESULT!!!

It was before 12PM, so I will consider it a legit and rational decision. The ugly bus had not yet departed!

In actual fact – he took my cell – pinned in his number, then rang through to his until it showed up! Then he saved it! Yes he did...  :)

Part of me thinks that was pretty “genius”, the other half upon later over-analysation (we all do it) – thinks it may be because he’s been given incorrect numbers one too many times, and he’s since wised up. Either way – he ended up with my cell number, and me with his.

I have a rule: I don’t call men first!

If that means that I potentially lose out to Mr Perfect because he was waiting to hear from me, well then I lose out! - And he could not have been that perfect anyway!

I have this rule to ensure that I’m not looking into things that are not there. We may end up disappointed with men at one point or another in life. - I just hope that by letting them call, it’s because they are actually interested!!! That way – I minimize precious stalking time spent on those who don’t care.

Women are famous for: overanalysing the way he moves his hands when he talks, or the way he nibbles on his bottom lip when he’s nervous, or the way his arm accidentally brushed against mine whilst we were gazing off into one another’s eyes (although he never actually intentionally moved his arm, but was bumped from behind)

We read these “sometimes” ridiculous things into pretty much nothing, and yes, I know its sooo much fun, but come on!

Sorry - I digress - back to my rule: I don’t call men.

I mentioned it in what I thought was a cute coy manner when he said “so now you have my number, and I have yours”

It went something along the lines of: giggle giggle... “I don’t call men; they call me”

Then he bought me a drink, we partied, and I left....

And then what did I do?


I waited and waited and WAITED for him to call.

WTF!!!! Don’t ask for the number if you don’t plan on using it UH#2.


I never hinted for you to take it.
I never asked for you to call.
So if you have no intention of using it - then just don't bother with the number.
Please let us feel a little less humiliated!

Now I’m just miffy and irritated; and I risk getting whiplash checking my cell every time it rings so I can  answer and pretend I don’t have a clue who’s on the other end. OF COURSE!!

Now I’m just feeling pooh – that some guy didn’t call.

Really – what a waste of time! This week has drained me, and dragged on FOREVER. I may have aged more in the last week than God herself indented!

I need a pick me up...

Nasty Weather Gods and a Perve Sesh...

Had to gather all the energy I had to pull myself out of bed this morning. My friends were smart enough to take the full day off after last nights Brazil spectacular!

The weather Gods knew there was a game at the stadium at lunch, and I’m sure they deliberately scheduled a torrential downpour over this time frame – just to spite us!

Cruel Cruel Weather God!!!

I rocked up at work – looking like a Christmas tree decoration; all in red, white and green – to show my Porta support, only to realise that I had not put in for half a days’ leave.

So after much argumentative motivation as to why Portugal could not take to the field without their core supporter (ME) in the grounds, and how missing this game would actually lead to my death, the boss was super understanding – and gave me the rest of the day off. Yippee...

I’m going to have to work like a beast tomorrow to make up for it!

It rained, we screamed, we perved over Ronaldo, we complained about the cold, we perved again, we drank more beer, and we screamed some more...

Somewhere in-between the perving and the beer there was a football game!

Oh yeah – we won 7 : 0

Getting Security to Agree...

What an uuugly site – pale un-toned flabby white Englishmans ass!  Yuck!

 Yes – I saw it – unfortunately - as did most of the fans surrounding the pub! This is the stuff that nightmares are based on!

That ill image however, was swiftly replaced by one of pure joy!

FatboySlim aka Norman Cook gigged out with fury at the CTICC last night!

There are not enough ways to spell “awesome” that could do his epic display of perfection any justice. (yes, I know there is actually only 1 way to spell awesome)

This is what good times are made of – friends, Redbull, pumping beats, comfy shoes...

I learnt the comfy shoes from last time. Aching feet are never a good addition to any party night.

Getting to my car at 4 this morning proved to be yet another episode of errors.

We had parked in my office building very near to the venue for super ease of access. (Score big points with the pals there!)

Forgot the friggin access card in my car though (loose big points with the pals there).

“Conversing” with agro security during the dead hours was not as easy as it should have been. I don’t blame them for being agro – its 4am, and they are sitting alone behind a desk...

I’m going to blame that issues we faced on crazy drunk friend who insisted on blowing her vuvuzela repeatedly in the lobby of said office building. Baap... BAAP- BAAAAAAP-BAAP!!!

Don’t worry about the residents on the upper floors – no – not at all! Just blow that thing until your eyes pop out and we are all super deaf. That’s clearly the way to get security to agree...

The Army is Barmy...

Am feeling much better today...

So have decided to don the red and white and scream my heart out on the sideline at England Vs Algeria.

Apparently – these tickets cannot actually be purchased for love or money. Good thing I have friends in high places (or I’m really good at maintaining working relationships).

Planning on pre-matching with the barmy army and the boy pals at "our" local pub in the H2Ofront – to get into the spirit of it all. I've been told that they have been there since 10AM, so it's bound to get messy. The chorus of "rah rah rah England" will be heard soon... I'm sure of it!

Tonight is going to be massive... BUT I have promised myself to behave...

No yelling at Algerians or name calling!

Sasko has such faith in his homeland, that he's vowed to run through the H2O front in the buff, should England not win.

Note: "not win"!

He has forgotten to mention a thing regarding a draw working in his favour!

I have a feeling that I should keep the camera close at hand!

Bring on the footie!

False Sounding Trumpets...

Still can’t shake this awful chesty cough, and today for the first time my nose has decided to run away with itself...

Have now degenerated to blowing trumpet sounds in short sharp bursts whilst attempting to clear it.

It’s beginning to sound a little like the chorus for “the battle hymm of the republic” – played by a tone-deaf 5 year old!

A round of applause and large stash of tissues for false sounding trumpets!

Party Navigation...

Went to the meat market last night; AKA central clubbing district.
T’was a birthday par-tay celebration, so I thought I’d invite myself for “rent-a-crowd purposes” of course.

Preceded this with Champaign and sushi. Next time please remind me that just because it’s half price sushi – does not mean that I must order twice as much of it!

OMG – nearly fell over myself when I saw UH#2 pull up to join our dinner plans. Straight from work he was a very pretty sight in pinstripes and shiny shoes. Did I mention I''m a fan of the JCrew look?!? Huh? Did I?
(girly giggle)

Later at the meat market...

In-between the shooter bar and dancing with the randoms - I did notice something – maybe for the first time:

1 - I now feel really old on student nights...

2 - As you become “more mature” – you tend to wear more clothing when you go out...
This of course explains why I was in a belt, and boots!

Just a general observation...

Promised Best Gal Pal (BGP) that I wouldn't get MO FO drunk! That however, was BEFORE the 2 hang grenades... oops!

Did make for fun navigation on the way home - the drunk leading the directionally inept with GPS type instructions...

left / left again / no other left / I need to pee / you have reached your destination!....

Drinking Games with Obama and BP...

I’ve heard that Obama will be making an address about the PB oil spill on TV.

It’ll only be 15 minutes,  but I think that’s plenty of time for a drinking game!

Key words are “oil” “BP” and  “responsibility”

Who You Calling Frosty....

I’ve been waiting for tonight for a long time!

Italy play Paraguay at the honing beacon - and we have pretty decent seats.

The Mother City; bless her soul; decided that today would be a nice day to produce what I can only refer to as “ oh my #$%#^*%@ its freezing today!” weather patterns!

My nose has actually turned the same colour as my red coat, and I’m wearing so many layers – frosty the snowman has nothing on me.

I will not let this black sky, or this shocking cold of mine get the better of my enthusiasm. The electric blue of my Azzuro jacket is holding my mood up. Besides – I get to drink beer out of a plastic bottle while walking down the street. Reminds me of long lost student village days.

What more can you ask for?

Lazy Sundays...

I’ve decided to not get out of bed today.

Am hoping I can nail it down to an “on principal” argument. However – I think I may be shit out of luck on this one.

There is no sunshine, it’s raining, and my bed is far more comfy. Yay – that’s a tri factor. (3 reasons why)

Will use that as my argument if need be.

Besides; I have a whole season of Cougar Town that needs reviewing before it hits MNet. I plan to take notes for future use!

Have stocked the bedside table with milk, cookies and those yummy Woolies chocolate covered marshmallow type thingies.

Its game on!!!

Yes – I clearly need a hobby... or friends with the same lazy Sunday setup.

A Second Round of Frenchies...

Hitting the rugby today!

Half way line, 9 flights up, box tickets. I don’t “do” anything less.

Yip, agreed - I’m such a snob!

SA play France on home turf – so yay, I have an excuse to wear my way overpriced SA jersey – the one I bought last year because “I really needed it being the teams #1 supporter”.

I somehow persuaded myself that R 500 was ok to spend on a shirt that i was probably only ever going to wear once, or twice at a push.

Today’s going to be the second time I wear it.

Success!!

Was going over strategy for the day with best gal pal (BGP). She’s advised that I sit myself next to one of the pretty guys in the box and allow him to inflate his ego whilst he explains the rules to me etc blah blah.

May need to follow her advice today – apparently it goes over so much better than being able to explain the intricacies of the backlines' recent form to him.

So ciao ciao – I’m off for yummy food, VIP parking and a birds eye view with a free dose of vertigo! Have been reminded by the boss to avoid attacking the barman this time around for not stocking jelly tots. Apparently that did NOT go down well at the last game. Who would have known!

Fun times!

Football Friday!

I’m going to say it  ... I love my country!

Watched the opening ceremony surrounded by a throw of banana yellow T’s in the office bar before hitting the later game.

Open bar Fridays really are a joy! Invite all your friends they said. I don’t need a second invitation!

Picture a group of mismatched folk all screaming out a national anthem and glowing with pride – and it was only 4pm. There was a definitive emotional train being caught by all the ladies. Whilst I’m sure the guys all felt it too, they were better at holding back.

The battle of Pinotage vs Tequilla endured, and saw me supporting tequila, only because you can drink it faster and yell “OLE”! a LOT!!!

Threw in a few shouts of “Ayoba” and ”YOH, YOH, YOH” for good measure (so good you have to say it 3 times for impact)

So whilst standing on the furniture for a full 90 mins – yelling at the flatscreen – because of course they can hear my qualified advice – the rest of the crew were knocking back the better half of the bar stock.

Am sure I had a very in-depth convo with an 8 year old as to why my bafana T was way cooler than his. I’m positive I won that argument! Why not?

4 Redbull Vodkas later, and a few more tequilas to keep warm, set foot for the stadium - The Mother City was abuzz with energy, the stadium acting as a honing beacon... it drew us in for 8pm like bugs drawn to its luminescence. Fan-tas-tic!!!

Apart from having nosebleed seats (seats so high your nose bleeds), it was in one word – AWESOME!!! 

Apparently there were no goals scored – who cares! We sat next to some Frenchie hotties and flirted our little local bums off. Objective of the evening achieved!

The vuvuzela may be an international symbol for “Africa”, but I have to admit – my ears feel as if they are still bleeding.

Cant wait to do it all again on Monday!

Gentle Does It

Godzilla is a misunderstood creature; beneath his raging desire to set people on fire and eat them lies a gentle giant who just wants to cuddle...

Bleeding Ears and Talent Scouting...

In the spirit of “feel it; it is here” football festivities, some colleagues and I made our way onto the streets of Cape Town at noon today to blow our vuvuzelas in the spirit of the game.

Dressed in enough bafana attire to be considered wholesalers,  Glam Girl (GG) and I bounced to the sounds of “make the circle beeger”, drinking Starbucks on the sidewalk. Life is fun!

I learnt 5 things today:

1 – I cannot blow a vuvuzela. (neither can GG)

2 – The football festive spirit seems to have a handle on everyone

3 – No-one really looks good in yellow

4 - My ears are still bleeding from the bzzzzzzz

5 – There are some incredible hotties working in our building – and we never knew they existed!!

Plan of action – more lunches to the local deli, in the name of talent scouting of course!

I'm a Quitter...

I’ve just quit smoking! YESTERDAY!!!

I’ve decided this smack back in the middle of the FIFA football World Cup – in my home nation - an event filled with pubs, and bars, and booze, and opportunities to meet foreign hotties by borrowing lighters...

You’d think I like a challenge hey?!?

I’m a social smoker. I smoke not because I enjoy it, but because it’s a social crutch.

Today I hand in the crutches!

I want to prove to myself that I can actually do it. Well that, and I woke up feeling as if an ashtray threw up down my throat!

Yummmm.... :(

The Evidence Calls for a Manifesto...

Was mailed an image from our weekend away – from UH#1. Sneakily taken on his crackberry.

Based on this evidence alone – I have now crafted a manifesto to live my life by:

1 - Maintain composure whilst shitfaced drunk!!!

2 - No throwing myself at men – ever!  Ever!!!

3 - No dancing on anything elevated – this includes chairs / tables / hay bales / cars / as well as hanging from chandeliers!!!

Success of a Weekend...

Returned from a magnificent weekend away with the 3 Stooges, with a case  of pink champers, and 12 bottles of vino in tow. That was my stash – imagine what the cops would have thought should they have pulled us over – enough for a mini suburban shebeen.

Apparently I insisted on bottling 4 of them myself and waving the “sucker machine” around like I was in  a Star Wars film. (wooooshhhh  wooosshh)

Best Gal Pal was smart enough to tempt uber hottie brothers (UH#1 and UH#2) to join our little adventure.

We didn’t have to prowl for eye candy – they stayed with us. Score!!!

Spent most of day one walking behind UH#1 and his cement ass – just watching it sway... hhhmmm fond memories...  (aaahh)

Congrats to Die Burger for a fabulous soiree. Congrats to Arabella Wine Farm for hosting out little souls, and thanks to the coffee guy Joe who saved my life the following day with a cuppa that perked me back up and subdued the eminent hangover, if only for a while.

I do know that I’m in love with Graham Beck – and his wine of course, that sleeping in a car on a rainy evening driving home makes me car sick, and that best friends make every situation absolutely phenomenal.
I’m now firmly a fan of fresh air and cow poo... as long as it comes with my best pals, and a great glass of red!

Stooges Go Camping...

Ok folks... I will be away this weekend, so no fabulous entries from me for the next few days.

The stooges and I have decided that the best way to deal with singledom is to tackle it head on, with a wine glass in hand.

So we are kitting ourselves out for a weekend of fresh air in cow poo fields! I’m of the opinion that if I have to run around in said cow poo fields, there better well be some liquid nourishment to numb the sting.

Yay – we are going camping – yes, I said camping – out in the wine lands area of Robertson – for the annual Wacky Wine Weekend Festival!

Bring on the ....

Pretty mountain views

Bon Courage pink Champaign

Endless Oysters

Live bands

Portable shower facilities (yuck)

Oh yes and cow poo

What a splendid combo...

Bad Powers - Bad...

Went to fetch the last of my “stuff” from The Real Estate Agent last night.

I was praying for a quick duck in / hi / here’s your stuff / bye situation...

The powers that be were not so kind...