This morning I... woke up happy for the first time this week, which was nice really. TGIF. I don't even feel guilty about deciding to skip pilates this morning, and I'm actually looking forward to the weekend. Could this be the beginning of me becoming a normal human being? We can only hope.
Last night I... ate too much sushi. But really, how do you stop yourself?
I'm really excited about... my couch being delivered tomorrow. Furniture – who knew it could be such a thrill? And since I can't be there for the actual delivery (yikes, sounds like a baby), my brother has volunteered his services as couchsitter for the morning. What a dear.
Everyone finds it hilarious that... I'm going to see Martha Stewart at the Design Indaba. Laugh it up now my friends, just don't expect so much as a cupcake crumb in the future then...
I sometimes wonder... why I couldn't have been born rich or thin or both.
I met someone... from the Czech Republic last night.
I'm not usually a jealous person... and this quote by Ambrose Bierce (probably from The Devil's Dictionary) reminded me why: Jealousy – being unduly concerned about the preservation of that which can be lost only if not worth keeping. What a smart guy. He said one of my favourite, silly things too: The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday night, in bed, with my laptop
This hermit actually left the house tonight, and headed into the great outdoors to Neighbourhood for a bit of a drinkie drink with some fellow bloggers. I know ... who knew Cape Town possessed so many people who would RSVP to an invitation from an online stranger and actually not flake out? (People did arrive in various degrees of fashionably late, however, which was the only thing stopping me from checking with the nearest person that we were in fact still in Cape Town).
Anyway, was really rather interesting. Not only are bloggers real people (I know! Gasp!), but it's also astonishing how many writers there are about, biding their time in PA jobs or marketing. Or, yes, copy editing.
As for me, I got to chatting with a freelance web designer, who really got my freelance enthusiasm ball rolling again. Having been recently commissioned to write for a household-name glossy (hush hush), I'm having a resurgence of hope that there might actually be a writing career out there for me. Bright-eyed and busy-tailed...
Thanks must go to Brazen for organising our little soiree.
Headed to Minato after for a little late supper. I know not everyone might appreciate their tight-lipped, rule-ridden service, but it really is my favourite spot for sushi. No pretension, just raw fish.
Anyway, was really rather interesting. Not only are bloggers real people (I know! Gasp!), but it's also astonishing how many writers there are about, biding their time in PA jobs or marketing. Or, yes, copy editing.
As for me, I got to chatting with a freelance web designer, who really got my freelance enthusiasm ball rolling again. Having been recently commissioned to write for a household-name glossy (hush hush), I'm having a resurgence of hope that there might actually be a writing career out there for me. Bright-eyed and busy-tailed...
Thanks must go to Brazen for organising our little soiree.
Headed to Minato after for a little late supper. I know not everyone might appreciate their tight-lipped, rule-ridden service, but it really is my favourite spot for sushi. No pretension, just raw fish.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Saved by the bell
Dear readers you were nearly treated to an itemised list of my Black Tuesday thoughts (Black Tuesdays, for the record, follow Blue Mondays, the kind of Monday I usually have after Golden Friday, Saturday, Sundays when Boyfriend is home for the weekend).
But, lucky for you and decidedly unlucky for me, the time flew by before I could unleash my thought rumpus on the unsuspecting blogosphere – work was manic, and this blogger can't have slept very well last night; by about elevenses I could easily have put my head down on my desk and had a cat nap (cats, incidentally, can sleep for 16–18 hours a day).
And so there goes Tuesday. Did you enjoy how I pretended to have written a post by actually just making excuses for the reason I didn't post earlier? Avoidance tactics ... everybody should learn 'em.
But, lucky for you and decidedly unlucky for me, the time flew by before I could unleash my thought rumpus on the unsuspecting blogosphere – work was manic, and this blogger can't have slept very well last night; by about elevenses I could easily have put my head down on my desk and had a cat nap (cats, incidentally, can sleep for 16–18 hours a day).
And so there goes Tuesday. Did you enjoy how I pretended to have written a post by actually just making excuses for the reason I didn't post earlier? Avoidance tactics ... everybody should learn 'em.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
bleak (adj) offering little or no hope; eg 'the future looked bleak'; 'prospects were bleak'
Well things were looking up, and now they're looking way up. Like sky-high. Like astronomical.
Like, R3 800 to fix the scrapes on Mum's car.
Trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm going to have to shell out about two thirds of what I make in a month to patch up something I managed to do in about two seconds of negligence.
This is so not cool. Especially considering:
Like, R3 800 to fix the scrapes on Mum's car.
Trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm going to have to shell out about two thirds of what I make in a month to patch up something I managed to do in about two seconds of negligence.
This is so not cool. Especially considering:
- The four birthdays I have this weekend
- The astronomical joining fee I have to pay before I qualify for a discount on my gym membership (proving the theory that you have to spend money to save money)
- The gorgeous and only slightly expensive couch I've got my eye on
- The fact that I finally found someone who might be able to service my vintage typewriter
- The fact that I was only just starting to scrimp and save to buy my own damn car. Now my first few months' instalments will instead be spent fixing the car I was driving in the meantime. I'm usually a fan of irony. Not so much right now.
Things are looking up...
Well gee golly gosh and darn it. I gained a kilo in January/early Feb. I'd like to believe it's a kilo of muscle, but my very, er, relaxed gym routine lately leads me to believe otherwise.
I know my problem lies in being seriously unmotivated to do any cardio apart from swimming once a week (Well, that, and an over-fondness for carbs), but couple this discovery with my back niggles and my increasing frustration at being a B-cup kind of girl in a D-cup body, and it makes for a not very cheery Tuesday morning.
However.
In an effort not to be all gloom and doom, here's the good news for today: Absa called this morning. I'll cut a fifteen-minute phone call short – they're giving me a credit card! I should get my shiny silver plastic within a week, after which I will in all probability cuddle it while I sleep and call it my precious.
And don't worry, I'm not about to start keeping Jimmy Choo in business or anything. It's just nice to know that the establishment finally thinks I'm adult enough to manage money.
Also, got my organ donor card and stickers in the mail yesterday. At this rate, my ID book will be ready sometime in 2010 as well.
So yes, things are looking up, even if one of those things is the number on my bathroom scale...
I know my problem lies in being seriously unmotivated to do any cardio apart from swimming once a week (Well, that, and an over-fondness for carbs), but couple this discovery with my back niggles and my increasing frustration at being a B-cup kind of girl in a D-cup body, and it makes for a not very cheery Tuesday morning.
However.
In an effort not to be all gloom and doom, here's the good news for today: Absa called this morning. I'll cut a fifteen-minute phone call short – they're giving me a credit card! I should get my shiny silver plastic within a week, after which I will in all probability cuddle it while I sleep and call it my precious.
And don't worry, I'm not about to start keeping Jimmy Choo in business or anything. It's just nice to know that the establishment finally thinks I'm adult enough to manage money.
Also, got my organ donor card and stickers in the mail yesterday. At this rate, my ID book will be ready sometime in 2010 as well.
So yes, things are looking up, even if one of those things is the number on my bathroom scale...
Saturday, February 13, 2010
An existential crises
Lately I've been feeling more than a little lost, like I missed some very important meeting where the universe handed out instructions to life, so that while everybody else seems to be in perpetual forward motion, heading towards their shiny dreams and goals, I keep walking in circles going past the same tree again and again and thinking, 'Hey, that looks familiar'.
The whole 'the world is your oyster' thing leaves me feeling paralysed. Shellfish poisoning probably. I'd much rather it was my yellow brick road, my looking glass, my wardrobe.
Instead, I find myself at a point where rather than jumping into everything with both feet, I dip but a toe into that paddling pool we call life then step back, having suddenly forgotten how to swim.
If Kierkegaard was right, and we're all responsible for giving our own lives meaning, and living those lives with passion, then I must be very, very behind.
Everyone I know seems to know something about something. Boyfriend can pretty much build a car from scratch (and that's not even his day job). That Ulanda Girl knows the difference between an Alexander Wang and an Alexander McQueen. Miss Lane is so passionate about music, she bought an old record player just so she could listen to Bob Dylan 'properly'. In fact, all my friends seem uniquely talented or smart or gifted in some way ... so where did I get left behind?
Maybe it's time I got a hobby. Suggestions?
The whole 'the world is your oyster' thing leaves me feeling paralysed. Shellfish poisoning probably. I'd much rather it was my yellow brick road, my looking glass, my wardrobe.
Instead, I find myself at a point where rather than jumping into everything with both feet, I dip but a toe into that paddling pool we call life then step back, having suddenly forgotten how to swim.
If Kierkegaard was right, and we're all responsible for giving our own lives meaning, and living those lives with passion, then I must be very, very behind.
Everyone I know seems to know something about something. Boyfriend can pretty much build a car from scratch (and that's not even his day job). That Ulanda Girl knows the difference between an Alexander Wang and an Alexander McQueen. Miss Lane is so passionate about music, she bought an old record player just so she could listen to Bob Dylan 'properly'. In fact, all my friends seem uniquely talented or smart or gifted in some way ... so where did I get left behind?
Maybe it's time I got a hobby. Suggestions?
Friday, February 12, 2010
Reasons to be happy today
It's Friday, which means it's the weekeeeeeeeeeend bay-by!
That also means it's only a week till Le Boyfriend is back home (a weekend, incidentally, that includes three birthday parties).
Managed to get out of bed in the dark again to go to pilates at six. Second time this week. Yay me.
Finally finished that dreadful road safety article I was moaning about all day yesterday to anyone who would listen.
Had a massage this morning and had some of my knots worked out.
In an hour we'll be leaving the office to have high tea at the Mount Nelson. Can't wait. All the pots of tea and teeny tiny sandwiches and pastries and cupcakes my heart desires, and all footed by the company. Which somehow makes it sweeter, really.
That also means it's only a week till Le Boyfriend is back home (a weekend, incidentally, that includes three birthday parties).
Managed to get out of bed in the dark again to go to pilates at six. Second time this week. Yay me.
Finally finished that dreadful road safety article I was moaning about all day yesterday to anyone who would listen.
Had a massage this morning and had some of my knots worked out.
In an hour we'll be leaving the office to have high tea at the Mount Nelson. Can't wait. All the pots of tea and teeny tiny sandwiches and pastries and cupcakes my heart desires, and all footed by the company. Which somehow makes it sweeter, really.
movie movie movie movieeeee
Noodle and I had a little cinema nouveau rendezvous last night, so now I know why there's such Oscar buzz surrounding this movie and its lead, the delightful Carey Mulligan.
Seriously, how else would you describe her?
I loved this movie. It got all the ticks: intelligent story, great characters and performances, elegant costume design (see below), humour mixed with some very thought-provoking ideas...
Found the story very ... relate-able, especially the worldly-wise man sweeping into Jenny's life and opening her eyes to how very, very small her world is. Oh and the bit about spending your whole life working towards something that suddenly doesn't seem all that very important.
And I got to have popcorn for supper, so omnomnom to that.
Couldn't help thinking about Juno for a minute while watching it. What's so refreshing about Jenny's collected, self-assured intelligence is that it was tinged with none of the annoying precociousness of Ellen Page's character. Guess that's the difference between American and British cinema: the art of the understated.
Seriously, go see this movie.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
In case anyone ever questioned why I'm such a Jane Austen fan...
Apart from the ubiquitously appropriated 'It is a truth universally acknowledged...' she also sprouted such gems as this one:
'A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of.'
And you know she was right.
'A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of.'
And you know she was right.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Happy Humpday everyone!
Can I really be the only person in South Africa who, up until a few weeks ago, thought the 'hump' referred to something other than Wednesday being the last obstacle before it's downhill to the weekend?
Guess so.
(Blush much?)
Guess so.
(Blush much?)
Monday, February 8, 2010
The weekend in numbers...
Number of DVDs hired on a Friday night when I could have been out partying up a storm and being a social butterfly: one. Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Watched it in bed with a Death by Chocolate Magnum. Call me a loser, I don't care. My blue mood lately makes curling up alone in my bed an extremely attractive prospect.
Number of mother's cars scraped while turning too close to a pillar in the Kloof Street Lifestyles Centre parking lot: one. Not only did it make the most horrible noise so that everyone milling around their cars looked at me like, 'Ooooh, fail', it's also going to be quite pricey to patch up. Sorry Mum. Sorry bank balance.
Number of sushi lunches, bringing the number of times I've been for sushi in the last eight days up to four: one. Met some friends at Beluga after the car scraping incident (two couples actually – yes, that's right, I fifth-wheeled). And here's a life lesson: never sit at the corner table of the inside section. It must have bad feng-shui, because we instantly became invisible to any of the staff.
Number of Saturday nights curled up in bed with a book when I could have been out partying up a storm and being a social butterfly: one.
Number of alarm clocks ringing at 6 am on Sunday morning: two (in the whole city probably). Mine and my parents. Mum and I tagged along to Hermanus with Dad, who had to pin someone down for a meeting at their holiday home. Getting out of the city was rather refreshing, as was having breakfast at the cutest little bistro (really, it's called The Bistro) on the seafront, all done up French Provencal-style with wrought iron and toile everywhere. Googling to check I'd spelled 'toile' correctly, I found these:
Love. Love love. Silly, pretty things make me happy. I'd never wear them, but I would put them on a shelf somewhere and look at them.
Number of people who asked me this afternoon why I hadn't put up my usual weekend in numbers yet today: two. Very exciting. People actually read me? (Apologies, work was manic, as was my mood until a lovely blonde cheered me up).
Number of mother's cars scraped while turning too close to a pillar in the Kloof Street Lifestyles Centre parking lot: one. Not only did it make the most horrible noise so that everyone milling around their cars looked at me like, 'Ooooh, fail', it's also going to be quite pricey to patch up. Sorry Mum. Sorry bank balance.
Number of sushi lunches, bringing the number of times I've been for sushi in the last eight days up to four: one. Met some friends at Beluga after the car scraping incident (two couples actually – yes, that's right, I fifth-wheeled). And here's a life lesson: never sit at the corner table of the inside section. It must have bad feng-shui, because we instantly became invisible to any of the staff.
Number of Saturday nights curled up in bed with a book when I could have been out partying up a storm and being a social butterfly: one.
Number of alarm clocks ringing at 6 am on Sunday morning: two (in the whole city probably). Mine and my parents. Mum and I tagged along to Hermanus with Dad, who had to pin someone down for a meeting at their holiday home. Getting out of the city was rather refreshing, as was having breakfast at the cutest little bistro (really, it's called The Bistro) on the seafront, all done up French Provencal-style with wrought iron and toile everywhere. Googling to check I'd spelled 'toile' correctly, I found these:
Love. Love love. Silly, pretty things make me happy. I'd never wear them, but I would put them on a shelf somewhere and look at them.
Number of people who asked me this afternoon why I hadn't put up my usual weekend in numbers yet today: two. Very exciting. People actually read me? (Apologies, work was manic, as was my mood until a lovely blonde cheered me up).
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Overheard on the elevator...
Sales girl one to sales girl two:
Sigh. You know, our job is just soooo monogamous.
Har har har har har.
Sigh. You know, our job is just soooo monogamous.
Har har har har har.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Everyone seen the cover for Vanity Fair's Hollywood issue?
(From left to right, Bright Star’s Abbie Cornish, Twilight’s Kristen Stewart, An Education’s Carey Mulligan, Dear John’s Amanda Seyfried, Frost/Nixon’s Rebecca Hall, Alice in Wonderland’s Mia Wasikowska, Zombieland’s Emma Stone, Up in the Air’s Anna Kendrick, and The Wrestler’s Evan Rachel Wood.)
Just so nobody forgets, the future of Hollywood is white and skinny. I suppose three brunettes and a redhead is their idea of diversity?
Seriously?
PS since when did staring moodily into the distance and pretending to be in love with Robert Pattinson secure you a spot on Hollywood's watch list?
Too lazy to write intelligently. Here are some random words instead.
Weekend
Boyfriend
Sushi
Wine
Sex
Tea
Beach
Future
Nip/Tuck
Sexy
Sushi
Wine
Braai
Sex
Home
Sad
Monday
Blues
Tuesday
Muffin
Flapjacks
Fat
Ugly
Work
Sigh
Slow
Facebook
Tomorrow
Sushi
YAY!
Boyfriend
Sushi
Wine
Sex
Tea
Beach
Future
Nip/Tuck
Sexy
Sushi
Wine
Braai
Sex
Home
Sad
Monday
Blues
Tuesday
Muffin
Flapjacks
Fat
Ugly
Work
Sigh
Slow
Tomorrow
Sushi
YAY!
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