Gimme! (the pink edition)

Anyone kind enough to buy or steal any of the following for me,
will have my undying love and affection. 

Oh please, Please please please. Just think of all the cupcakes
I'd make for you, in my fancy KA mixer...

Micro pigs are the new pink AND the new black.
But I'm not just jumping on the bandwagon. I've wanted
a pig since I first read Charlotte's Web. I'd like to think
that's how I got my childhood family nickname
'Porky', although it's probably not.

Sorry, just had to nail the cute point home.

Because I'm tired of cheap nail polish.

Yeah, they're not my usual seven inch style,
but they're going to sort out my shin splints,
and they're not exactly the cheapest.

This is going to be a fantastic week

(Well, apart from the fact that my department – which today consists of two people, including myself, due to various others being on leave or in day-long meetings – is deathly quiet with approximately zero work having come in so far.)

The rest of the week is definitely looking up though. Here's why:

• It's a three-day week for me because...
• We're team building on Thursday, which means spa, then wine tasting, then lunch, and...
• I've taken Friday off because...
• It's Up the Creek this weekend. Hello to spending all day in the river on an inflatable crocodile, all night watching live bands, and every minute of the day with a Hunter's Extreme in my hand.

Yes, happy dance indeed. Oh and let's not forget all the marathon and very delicious grooming that shall be going on this week. Nothing this blogger likes more than grooming herself to the nines.

4x4ing is not for sissies

Even if you're not the one driving.

Did 'a little 4x4 trail' with Le Boyfriend and a couple friends on Saturday, in God knows where   beyond the boerewors curtain out Durbanville way. The scenery was pretty. Getting out of the city was nice. The sight of Boyfriend's monster v8 Hilux stretching its legs over all the obstacles and putting everyone else to shame was pretty cool too.

What wasn't cool, literally, was the heat. It's official. I'm not built for warmth. Especially not 40 degree mountain type heat. There was much swacking and also gnashing of teeth. I think we consumed about five litres of water between two of us, and by the time we were heading home, myself and another member of our intrepid band of travellers had been reduced to grunting as a form of communication.

Be proud though – I managed not to get myself sunburnt. So yay me. Suck it, skin cancer.

Spent the rest of Saturday recovering in the cool of Boyfriend's loft on his lovely couch in front of his massive T,V surrounded by its, er, surround sound. In a towel. After a long, cold shower.

I'll reiterate. 4x4ing, my friends, is not for sissies. And clearly I am one. 

That is all, as you were

Back in the black

Well, hello pay day, so nice to see you again. It's been a while. I've missed you. Really I have. I know some people may say I only look forward to seeing you when I need something, like MoroccanHairOil or tickets to Up the Creek, but that's ... okay, well yeah, that's true. But hey. We can still be friends, right?

It's so nice to have a positive bank balance and (nearly) zeroed credit card again. Wow it feels good to have more than two digits at the bottom of my internet banking statement again.

Let's face it – as rad as getting paid early in December is, January sucks a little when you run out of disposable income around the second (especially if you spent most of your remaining ZARs on bubbly – hard to subsist on that stuff, or put it into your fuel tank).

Anyway, today, despite it being the middle of the week, is a good day. Here's to No-negativity Wednesday!

I like to move it, move it

So, be proud, bloglings – I'm on week three of my running programme (yes, miraculous, considering last week was week one, but I need to step up the pace since the race is in, oh, just over six weeks). Hit the treadmill yesterday morning before work and clocked 30 minutes and 3.5 km.

That may not sound like much, but it's a lot more than this asthmatic non-runner ever thought she'd do. And sure that was still a running/walking combo, but hey, I'm proud.

Of course, it wasn't without its moments. Firstly, I figured out why I find it so hard to run ... I've been jogging on my toes all my life! That's what you get for doing ballet instead of regular sports I guess. Oh well. I'm now focusing on putting my heel down first, which means I have to concentrate very hard while running, and look like a bit of a special person.

Secondly, came pretty close to embarrassing myself when my headphone cable got tangled and my iPod slipped off the little shelf thing, hit the treadmill and went shooting off behind me at a couple of people on spinning bikes. Succeeded in the afore-attempted embarrassment when it happened at second time. Doh...

The weekend in numbers

Yes, I'm a bit behind...

Number of nights in: one. Friday night. It's January, after all folks and my bank balance is looking dire, or whatever word means 'worse than dire'.

Number of killing sunburns: one. And I've been so good lately. But I was temporarily separated from my sunscreen during the TotalSports Challenge (do you like how I made it sound like I was doing the Challenge, as opposed to just cheering on a friend?). Oh well. Strap-lined shoulders and red calves are where my tan's at, at the moment. 

Number of Peddlar's burgers after the TotalSports Challenge (and a shower): one. Worth mentioning. They're just so good. 

Number of naps on Saturday afternoon: zero. I tried. But then some woman got stuck in the lift at Boyfriend's flat, and damn near screamed the building down for 45 minutes afterwards. Not conducive to REM. 

Number of times I laughed on Saturday: brazillions. Saw Nic Rabinowitz in Stand Up and Deliver at the Baxter. 

Number of music legends seen in concert: one. Johnny Clegg at Kirstenbosch. You have to love summer in Cape Town, don't you?

RUN!

This isn't me, but damn I'd like it to be.

Went for my first run on the promenade yesterday, which (if you include running on the treadmill on Wednesday morning) brings my total number of running training sessions in 2012 up to two.

Which brings my total number of running training sessions in my life, pretty much, up to two.

Late last year I read about the annual Mouille Point Lighthouse Nite (their spelling, not mine) Race. It's 10 km along the Sea Point prom, from the lighthouse to Bantry Bay or so and back, in a loop. Sounded quite fun, until I reminded myself, 'Yeah but Jade, you don't run. You can't.'

And then I realised I was tired of hearing myself say things like that. Yes I've never really run for more than a minute in my life without getting out of breath, but everyone starts somewhere right? And the reason I think I can't, is because I haven't actually tried. Because, as with so many things in my life, I'm scared that trying might lead to failing, and I grew up believing that failing was not an option. I never tried out for the soccer team, never ran for prefect, never aimed to get a first in a varsity course I vaguely struggled with (in fact I opted to drop out of first year at one point, rather than not get the tertiary education equivalent of straight As), mostly because I was scared of what would happen if I had a dream and it didn't come true.

So I am going to try. Even if it's hard, even if I don't turn out to be gifted at it, even if I suck. My goal is to start training, and finish that race. After that, I'll see if I want to carry on with this running malarkey. But at the moment, it just feels good to have a goal. Scary, yes, the whole whatifIdon'tachieveit thing, but it's a new and exciting feeling too.

Vive la single resolution

So, I've finally jumped on the bandwagon with the rest of the world, and said 'bah humbug!' to NY resolutions.

No more 'I will lose five kilos' (although I will), 'I will make more of an effort with friends' (although I will), 'I will write more' (although I will)...

Instead, I've come up with the resolution to end all resolutions.

Ready?

In 2012, I will ... Spend My Time More Wisely.

Simple, no? Yes. And no. Because it inherently includes the following:

• I will worry less, and dream more
• I will procrastinate less, and do more
• I will watch less (bad) TV, and read more
• I will do less laundry, and socialise more
• I will drive less, and spend more quality time with people who count
• I will stress less, and exercise more

And so on, and so forth. It's kind of an undefined carpe diem moment I'm having. To get the heck out of dodge (aka my boring, stale, tired routine) and do more of what makes me happy, which is what a handy sign on our office inspiration wall so helpfully tells me every morning.

The Birthday Comedy of Errors

Having a birthday on 1 January is a blessing and a curse. The night before, it's extra Champagne for the birthday girl, and no cleaning up the next day, which is all great, but you do tend to begin your next year of life with your 'morning after the night before' head on, and there is double the expectation that people normally carry into the whole NY palaver.


So the birthday began with watching Le Boyfriend (saintly, he is) tidy up the house we were sitting, before we hightailed it to his flat for a quick nap, which turned into a longish sleep. I then zooted home to my parents' place for much bestowing of love and smiles and presents, only to have something of an upheaval with my father because, contrary to my wishes, he had organised a family lunch for the occasion, at a place and time of his choosing.

Given that I had organised a birthday picnic for 30 people the following day – an event for which I still needed to get into the kitchen and bake and ice a gazillion cupcakes – needless to say this lunch didn't fit into my plans. Regardless, we went, me at 25 years of age sulking like a 12-year-old and having to have Le Boyfriend poke me in the ribs every time I looked like I was going to sass.

My actual birthday evening saw me sweating and slaving at a hot oven (allow me a little sense of the dramatic, please), churning out a small army of perfect, pink cupcakes for the picnic the next day.

Upon which it rained. Cue cancelling of picnic.

No matter, still have Le Boyf's Birthday Surprise Adventure to look forward to this morning!

Oh wait. Cancelled due to rain too.

No matter. Stiff upper lip. Grab my Girl Love and The Fisherman and head to Ratanga Junction for some good old-fashioned tomfoolery and rollercoasters. Fantastic day. Entirely drove the blighted birthday blues away.

Until we got home, that was, and the three drinks I'd had tipped the scales on a nauseous tummy that had been building for a few days, and I spent the rest of the evening heaving over the toilet bowl.

Grand no? Everybody better cross their bloody fingers it doesn't rain on Saturday, when the Birthday Picnic Take Two will be taking place. I will not be amused if more rain should mar my birthday week.

See? Errors, comedy of.

And yet, at the end of it all, Le Boyfriend again managed to swoop in – quite literally – and save the day. My postponed birthday surprise saw the pair of us taking a leap of faith off Lion's Head last night, in a tandem paraglide, something I've wanted to do forever.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever. TM.

Are you prepared for the pants-off-toe-tingling excitement of What I Did On My Holidays?

You probably are. Even if you just woke up.

Because I don't feel like I did too much out of the ordinary in the past two weeks, really. What I certainly didn't do was go to/think about/worry about work, nor did I check a single email. That's what leave is for right?

There was, of course, the mandatory stuffing of my face and glugging of wine and gin over Christmas (okay, fine, and before Christmas, and after Christmas, and for New Year), the result of which is that I'm sure I've gained at least one dress size as well as a phantom pregnancy.

Other activities included but were not exclusive to

• Far too much time in shopping malls (for myself, and for others, I'll have you know)
• Much watching of series and movies
• House-sitting (dog-sitting really) over NYE, and
• The Birthday Comedy of Errors, coming soon to a blog near you

SCrew this work thing, I'm joining the circus

I am a sad horsey.

First day back at work in 2012. Can't help but say, I'm not loving it.

Watch this space, I may give up words and join the circus.

While I consider it, you'll have to wait that little bit longer for my festive season blah blah.

Okay?

Cool.

She'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease...