So I've nearly survived my third day as a working girl (stop sniggering you know exactly what I mean).

Super conveniently there's been a bit of a bottleneck on the design side of the magazines, so our little copy editing corner has been rather quiet and we've left early every day I've been here. Which, I don't have to tell you, is a fabulous way to ease into this whole job/working thing.

Decided to brave the freezing outside world at lunch today (see? look at me go with this whole segueing into office life). I never drive around this part of town, let alone walk. Not that's it's particularly dodgey or anything - I've just never had a reason to, what with it being all office blocks and businesses. So I took a little wander about, and felt like a total tourist. Not only did I nearly manage to get lost (okay maybe not lost, per se, just had a bit of a sense of misdirection), I also found myself having a little fit of glee at each new coffee shop or eatery I happened upon – of which there were many. Who knew? I suppose all the tower block drones need somewhere to go to get away from their desks for an hour. Major discoveries included the existence of two sushi bars within walking distance, and the Food Lover's Market (I'm there, I am so there).

So anyway, was a rather successful little wander. Of course, when I decided it was time to stop a-walkin' and find somewhere to nibble my lunch I made another discovery: this city seriously needs some more benches.

Ended up in front of the fountain at the convention centre, sitting on an empty bench in the wintery sunshine, which to some people might seem like a very sad image but was really rather nice. So there.

PS: what on earth did I do to myself at pilates last night? Miss a few classes, go last night, and suddenly I'm a cripple...

psssst...

I have to whisper see, because I'm not sure how my new company feels about me blogging from work, even if it's during my lunch break.

So, update from the trenches...good things about work so far:
- My fellow copyeditors seem like nice sane people, not at all likely to turn suddenly homicidal
- I have a brand, spanking, beautiful new Mac mini, a ridiculously huge Samsung flatscreen and one of those awesome uber-flat silver Mac keyboards to work on
- Stationery was rained down upon me. And you all know my love affair with nice stationery.
- The work is eyes-closed kinda stuff so far

So not too shabby, but I'm going to refrain from judging till I've been here a week at least I think. Maybe till Friday...

I'd love to celebrate all this with a cocktail or four BUT I've decided that for two weeks (which began on Sunday...even though I only decided on Monday haha) I'm not drinking any alcohol. Just to see if I can...

My big girl job...

...starts tomorrow at 8.30









*tremble*

I know, I'm the worst...again with the woeful blog neglect. Soon it's going to think I don't love it, and start staying out late, falling in with the wrong crowd and vandalising public property in a bid for parental attention.

But I have a fairly watertight reason. Been playing house with Boyfriend up in Jo'burg for the last ten days, seizing my last couple weeks of freedom before I begin (squeal of excitement) the daily grind, and my laptoplessness means ixnay on the freelancing and blogging when I'm away from home.

Which also meant entire days bonding with Boyfriend's awesome couch (and kitchen) watching House while he was at work. So I'm not complaining.

And okay so I think it's time I stop being delusional. I say Jo'burg because that's where my plane lands, but in actual fact, my home away from home is a bit more than a stone's throw away from OR Thambo. Basically you'd have to pick up that stone, drive for just over an hour, and then you find yourself in the charming foreign universe called Witbank (which, yes I know, is in a totally different province even to Jo'burg).

Ah the banks...home of the two-tone-shirt-wearing, mullet-sporting Dutchman (as well as various other crimes against fashion), who fly around in suped-up Datsun bakkies and support something called The Bulls (can anyone help me out with this one?). It's a scary, scary place at times, and believe me, Boyfriend is not there by choice (pesky thing called work keeps him there, away from his native Cape Town).

Anyway, so that's the truth. But now I'm back (via a short divertion to George of all places when my flight couldn't land in Cape Town's fog), ripping up my last few days of freedom - it's T minus seven days till I hit the grown-up world of work. Boyfriend is following me home on Thursday, so all is pretty much fantastic in the world of Jade.

On that note, I think a weekend sabbatical is in order. Just hope the blog-child doesn't start smoking crack while I'm away.

So before I even start writing this I know everyone who reads it will roll their eyes and/or hate me.

But I shall proceed, undaunted.

I had a horrible day yesterday...like, well awful. And for no real reason either. Wrong side of the bed kind of day I suppose. Anyway...

Two things made me feel better about the world today.

First thing...was watching Miss Naked Beauty on BBC Lifestyle last night (for the first time I might add and only because I was trying to escape the ridiculous Michael Jackson funeral circus on every channel). I know, I know. Just about everyone else either cringes or laughs at it. After all, it is a bunch of 'unconventional beauties' (read, homely) parading themselves naked and natural (no makeup) and championing a less airbrushed, less underweight, less generally perfectionist kind of beauty. But for some reason, I shelved my cynicism for forty-five minutes last night and really admired those girls for their effort (and the sheer bravery it must take to display yourself au naturel on national television...when you don't look like a Sports Illustrated covergirl that is). It gave me the warm and fuzzies in an everyone-is-beautiful kind of way.

Of course, this morning, it's back to my GHD, the gym and general striving for skinniness. But you get my point I'm sure.

Secondly, was on my way home from gym this morning, driving up my ridiculously steep hill (seriously, we're talking like a 70 degree incline here) and for a change the car coming in the opposite direction was not some asshole in a Porsche Cayenne (what a stupid name for a car) forcing me off the road so that I have to pop a hill start halfway up. Instead, the nice guy in his old citi golf pulled to the side to let me pass, and when I waved a thank you he smiled happily and waved back. The sun was shining, I'm sure somewhere birds were singing, and I caught myself thinking about how nice the world would be if everyone was just friendly to one another.

Yes, yes, it was all very John Lennon. And I quickly reasserted the natural order of things by reminding myself that
a) the happy feelings were probably only endorphins being released after twenty laps in the Virgin Active pool
b) for all I know the citi golf guy is a child molestor. Or he had a body chopped up in the boot and was trying to allay suspicion.

Still...imagine all the people...

Oh to be a skinny bitch...

So last night over an AMAzing homemade veggie pizza followed by a slab of chocolate sitting in front of the fire, The Energiser Bunny, Birdy (aka The Serbian) and I got to talking - about a lot of things really, but in particular about weight, specifically, losing it.

These are the kind of guilty conversations that seem necessary after a healthy dose of cheese and chocolate.

So Bunny - who weighs about the same as a box of low fat crackers - subscribes to the everything-in-moderation, eat-when-you're-hungry-stop-when-you're-full school of weight loss. Then again she's also been known, when there's 'nothing in the kitchen', to survive an entire day on a stick of raw broccoli. So I guess some people are just blessed with some special gene which allows them to go through life simply being indifferent to food.

Her next bit of wisdom was from some or other pop-psychology book with a name like 'Gorgeous Me' (or possibly, 'If I pretend to love myself maybe nobody will notice I'm a fatass'). Apparently, since I gym regularly and don't eat like a famine victim at an all-you-can-eat buffet, it's possible that this is exactly what I'm supposed to look like - it's called my body's 'Happy Weight' or something.

Niglet, please.

If whatever higher power there is intended me to have a cuddly tummy, he wouldn't have invented bikinis or end of year holidays with everyone else's skinny girlfriends.

Spent the rest of the night trashing Birdy's mum, who has the indecency to have an overactive thyroid, meaning she's skinny no matter what. Some people have all the luck...

Happy first of July...

Apologies, I have been shamefully neglectful of my blog of late, and I know that the thousands of you out there who read me daily have been almost catatonic from withdrawal symptoms (sigh, don't I wish?).

Ok so we're officially halfway through the year. I seriously thought that by now I'd be:
- A few months into my first job
- Paying off a car
- Living away from home in some cute flat somewhere, bankrupting myself buying pretty linen and faux vintage popcorn bowls and gorgeous shoes and Elizabeth Arden 8-hour Cream Moisturiser (because really, what else does one need?)
- Skinny

But, here we are, entering into the second half of 2009, exactly six months away from my 23rd birthday (oh god, I'm sure I was seventeen a few minutes ago?) and I am currently not ticking a single one of those boxes. Not for lack of trying, mind you. The flaw in my great plan for the year was that just about every goal rested on the accomplishment of the first, ie getting a job.

But - as I'm sure you're all sick of hearing - that one's finally ticked (or will be on Day One, the 29th of July). I really feel like after that life can finally start. I know this is shockingly boring of me, but all year I've been dreaming of the lovely ordered bliss that will be working Monday to Friday, nine to five, looking forward to weekends, hating Mondays and getting paid at the end of the month like the rest of the world.

My dirty little secret is out. I am looking forward to being a happy little cog in the machine. (Don't worry, I'm sure this won't last past, say, my second pay cheque.)