What is better?  Younger or older.
We got into that discussion last night at Shhugar.   One of the guys in the conversation was saying that us girls like the younger boys.   I for one actually don’t.   Not that I’ve not been with a younger guy.   But no, I prefer an older man.   At least older than me.  
Tam too.

But why does it matter.   At the end of the day, I  go out, spot guys here and there, young and old, meet some, get to know some better, and then kind of concern myself over their age (if it is maybe a couple years younger than mine) but I really think that if the right one comes along, his age will be but a number.   It will fall behind a veil of other more important flutters of the heart.   When he comes to sweep me off my feet and possess me with day-long smiles, Id be more interested in his biceps and how he pays attention to the detail on my face.   I would want nothing more than to get to know all his ways and get tangled in the conversation of our lives together.   When he kisses my neck I would think how wonderful it would feel ten years on, and not that he is too young to press his lips on my goose-bumped skin.
Oh no, age wouldn’t worry me then.   So why let it worry me now.

I think it is more immaturity that is the problem.   Or the extensive opposite.   

All I want is a man that knows himself well, who has a plan, one who aims for progress, loves unconditionally and lives life fully.   He must be a little romantic at least, have a quiet strength and humility.   (And if I could go as far as to add physicalities, Id like him to be tall

All that would make him a man, and the matter of age would be arb chatter.

So some men think we like the younger guys more.   I don’t agree, but would say that they are more available.   It’s a tough “market” out there.   Married men.   Married men pretending to not be married.   Divorced men with kids and evil ex-wives.   Divorced men with awesome ex-wives, and what then could be wrong with those men?!  
The world is supposed to be our oyster, there’s all this fish in the sea.    Really?  

Perhaps we are looking in the wrong places.   Just the other day I caught a fish where I last saw him swim around 10 years ago.    Guess what, he’s a year younger than me AND divorced AND has a little uhm … fishy.   Cherry on top he lives 3 hours down the stream from me.    Not a bad fish though, and surely we don’t throw all the young fish back in the water, however scaled?      But then with “so many” fish in the sea, does one disregard the others and when do you know for sure if your swimming in sharky waters.

Brings me back to that fluster of wanting to spend all your time together, the feeling that takes over and paints invisible the concerns of age or anything else.

So then, what I’m telling myself is, that if I’m sitting with concerns over whichever of the men, THAT feeling didn’t take over as it would when it’s the right man.

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Are you visiting Port Elizabeth for the games being played here?
If you have a group looking for accommodation, consider this:

Block booking up to 40 people / 20 people
Bed & breakfast
Transport to and from games.
R1500 per person sharing / R1900 single

Madiba Bay Guesthouse (4 star)
Situated in South End.

This is my friend’s guesthouse.   He said that if I can get him 40 people or 20 + 20, he’d take me on holiday over to Europe.   We could come over and meet you in your country!!

For me, what makes his place great is the atmosphere.   I tend to pull in at his place on a late afternoon after work and end up taking over the bar.    It’s like one big happy family with all the visitors that’s been and always come back.  
There are many areas in the guesthouse so for folk who like some peace and quiet, they need not worry as noise could be made on the other side  -teehee.

I think he woke up a bit late to the whole 2010 idea, but his mind is in the right place.   I dont know of other accommodations that offer you transport included in your stay, at THAT price.   Everyone seems to have hiked their prices on the principle that it is foreigners coming, but I think they are realising that they were a bit greedy.
It’s all about the win/win situation isn’t it?!   In THIS situation, you win, he wins, I win.   We’re all happy.  

We could also look at assisting you in any other plans you have for your trip, if any.   Just ask!

Should you be interested in more info, please email me at hbubblesover@gmail.com
From there I can give you his details and phone number or any other relevant information that you require.

With much excitedness, I look forward to hearing from you!!!
Lets do this!!

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Forever the black rose
that’s who I am.
Tainted by pigments
grown strong from the blown sand.
The curse, the shadow
the essence, the stance
From a bloody prick
stems this blossom.

But this blossom was picked
with his bare hands.
He felt the puncture
as it pierced, running red.
He dropped it, stepped on it
walked off and forgot about it
He could not see past
the impediment.

Blossom was picked up
and saved.
Another took time
he handled the crave.
Gentle and careful
was his concentration
But in Blossom
an infection remained.

Of that first blood
the tainted rose required.
Growing more thorns
with hope inspired.
Not water, not rain
could satisfy her desire.
A deep longing
took all of her colour.

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Sometimes I wonder
I wonder why things happen as they do.
I wonder how it happens when Im closed to its dues.
Does it bend, tempt or confuse?

I never know the answers
of circumstance from my big smiles small shoes.
To question… is that my constant state?
Was I chosen to carry this big gate?

Forever closed it stays
waiting for its perfect place.
A key cut for just this golden steel?
I without end wonder

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A few weeks ago I was fortunate to receive an invite to join the Google Wave.
Thanks again Moe!

I wasn’t able to experience the fun or useful side of it as I was as yet unable to invite others to join my wave and lets not even mention the fact that I entirely missed the point of it to begin with.  

Like Facebook, Google Wave is only fun when you have a few contacts to wave with.  

Unlike Facebook, I wasn’t able to just send invites to who I knew, but had to wait for a special mail from Google Wave self to allow me this privilege.  

Also unlike Facebook, I didn’t understand what I was supposed to do.   I mean in Facebook, or even Twitter, you instantly know what to do with the applications cause they’re pretty self explanitory.  
Waving has a few more … uhm… let me call it “advanced” functions that I suppose is very usefull in a business sense, if you have your own business, or if you are one of the lucky few who works for a company that allows you access to make use of said internet sites.    You then start a wave and include or invite people to your wave that might be an online conference or meeting, or anything you want to share realy.  Simply given a new name “Wave”.    

Today in my Wave inbox I received the words reading “Invite others to Google Wave”. 
Yay!   I thought the day would never come.    So now I want to give my limited invites to  online friends who actually enjoy spending time on FB, Twitter … the kinds of people I will actually catch on the waves, so we can communicate and together figure out the benefits of this hyped phenomenon.

Are you one of them?

Send me your email address to hbubblesover@gmail.com or via my Twitter account if your interested.

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The late November sun announces it’s summers day
drenching my skin in its rays.  
I lay on a white towel naked
looking up as it smoulders the still blue sky,
while in my hand the ice cold ginger-ale brings the balance I crave.

It’s where I let all the thoughts that overwhelm me melt away
in to a nothing. 
With eyes open I dream like a sun-child about
wild laughter, dancing and friends surrounding me always,
except around me is no-one, no emotion, just stillness today.

As the daydream wonders deeper into how I wish my life to be
it resembles nothing as it should be.  
THAT, that I wish, HAS been
and if I get another chance to live it,
I would do almost everything differently.  Simply, as me.

For lessons learnt the great sun has seen them all.  
Her moon has comforted my imagination when darkness fell.  
And like a butterfly all new to discover what its seen before as something other
I am to live the next chapter  fluttering and feeling lighter.

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I have been furiously busy tightening everything that flabs around on my body by doing doses of daily exercise (minus the rainy days).  It’s all good, except that it meant no bubbly, no wine, no potent-marys and little blogging.   I had a mild-mary once, but that was it.

WHICH IS WHY I am giving myself a day of “have what you want” to again rekindle the fervour for my bubbles.   It’s being chilled. (Big smile).

Having been an early morning bird for the last two weeks, folding myself into strange, awkward, but ridiculously satisfying positions, I have had little time to do that other thing I find satishfying.   (Sorry, my mouth is watering for the champers)!
Time to blog has vanished now that I have replaced it with my new get-fit habit.
Literally I am at the edge of confusion as to where and when I sit down to write.

My life would be much easier if I had a laptop.   Then I could sit anywhere anytime, get on with it.   But I am still on one of those heavy screened, noise-making PCs, that is heavily reliant on a socket in the wall.
Well, I had a laptop, but the motherboard … ugh I don’t want to talk about THAT.

I want to say that I LOVE YDE.
They have tracked down a snazzy belt for me that was sold out in my size, and today called to say that it’s arrived (a month later)(better late than never).
However, now that I have dropped 2ks, and plan to drop some more, WILL IT FIT?
It’s a clip-belt, no holes to make it fit bigger or smaller.   We shall see…..

As for this week, I am throwing myself in to my work, with very little happening at night, completing my tax-return (!!!!), and devilishly looking forward to the
White Party
on Friday at Coco de Mer (where I shall tolerate a few more glasses of bubbly).

Happy days.

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The below post I found looking through one of my old closed blogs.   Written during the height of electricity cuts in  July 2008. 

Earlier I let the water run, poured in some vanilla bubblebath and lit all the candles.

On the left side of the bath I put down my bottle of water (thats just come with from gym), the remote for the tv (incase), my phone (so I can blog), the clicker (if Ton skips soccer and comes home early - I dont need to run to open the gate), my towel (for obvious reasons).

I dropped the shutters, pinned up my hair, undressed and stepped up, in to an ICE COLD BATH !!!

This is the appropriate time for water-bearers, people who run to the kitchen and back, for boiled water, then come to pour it in your bath.  Why:

1) Creating employment! I would pay for this kind a thing!! I reckon R20 an hour. I cant imagine being in the bath longer than that. Unless,… Im not alone.  “grin”

2) It’s a great sideline-job for students!

3) I would imagine the interview to be quite long due to thorough assessments, hence the good probability that a company which offers this service will have to be contracted.

4) Im sure, within no time they will offer back-rubs or scrubs and the whole shebang and before you know it, the ‘runners’ become taxed because the government wants their share.

5) This is when it’s not considered worth the R20 anymore (for the runners), and we end up with what we started.
COLD WATER.

6) Unions are formed to assist these runners to not lose out,
and after the strikes, they get what they want, …a higher wage.

7) At this point, people are used to having ‘runners’ in their lives, and so, when the price suddenly becomes R120 , we pay it.

(((Just tested my water, it’s running warm again. Im getting in QUICK)))

Suddenly a year later, we sit with the same water and electricity restriction problems.
Has our government not caught on that it might be a good idea to build more dams or to actually do something constructive?

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Here is one of my oooold posts I just found while looking though one of my older, now non-existing blogs.
The things I come up with…..   “laugh, shaking my head, shrug”

Every so often, someone you know dies, and the time calls for a funeral.

After today’s, it dawned upon me to consider signing up for a funeral policy.My sister use to say;
‘you better take out a funeral policy, IM not going to pay for your funeral’!

The funeral:
performed in Catholic church -
coffin brought in
holy water, sprinkled over coffin
words
incense, ‘censed’ over coffin
words
hymns
prayers

First I state:
Im not catholic.
The priest or pope (im not sure what they are in catholic religion), had this habit…
every time he approached the front of the church, he bowed and then continued with whatever it was he was doing. He walked up and down a lot, so he bowed alot. I thought it a rather strange thing that must be done by Catholics. (Not that the religion I grew up in, is less strange).

The intent of his words were clear. Words of positives past and focus on the resurrection.

THAT is where I become confused.
We are tought that you die, you go to ‘heaven’ or ‘hell’. You however, ‘live on’ after death.
Fine.
At what point exactly does this happen “go to heaven or hell”?
a) at the point of death?
b) at the church (while the priest/pope is performing the ritual) ((of what seems like a release or ’send off’ to the angels who guide you to your resting place))
c) after the same amount of days as it took Jesus to resurrect?
d) when God sends his son again? (they always say ‘his coming’).
e) 2012?
f) never, your human body is now dead, your soul’s energy moved on as energy does, and the memory only lives amongst other humans?
g) ?

Also, what if a dead man had never known a God of any kind, but found his God in late life just before he died. What if he was never baptised or even part of a church. Would his soul be blessed as done by the priest? Or is he then just unlucky?

The funeral is good for loved ones who need the closure and comfort of God’s hand.
Though sometimes, a funeral seems more for the living, than the one who died.

At the end of the day, there’s feelings of loss and despair. Depression lurks on the floor where many stare aimlessly. Questions like ‘why’ thrown up in the air.

THIS is where I show some uncomfortability.
I understand that people die.
I know that if it is someone close to me, I will feel loss. Like when you pick up your phone to quickly call and tell them something, only to realise you cant - they’re no longer there!!
But I release them, remember them, and I move forward.

I DONT understand the point in drowning myself deeper in pain and looking at life as a dark hole to now live in.  I DONT see reason to argue over belongings and material things. The dead cant take it with, why must you or I.

I respect the dead and for the most part, always try and have respect for myself and others. Though I feel better paying my respects in silence and keep a slight distance.  I don’t like to show emotion of this kind.
AND… I just prefer keeping the day about the one who’s dead, than bring attention on to me.

SO,
at this point in time, I do not have a funeral policy. And Im not sure who would cover the costs on the spot (if I dont get myself a policy).

I dont think (I know) that I would go to hell if I dont have a funeral, but for the ones who stay behind mourning, I find it fit to provide them all with a ’send off’.

I do like the candles, incense and whole ritual, but OH GOD please may I choose the rules for the rest. Especially as I am paying.

In no particular order, my directives are:
a) I dont like the sound of organs. A piano playing or guitar would be nice.
b) Sunflowers.
d) NO HYMNS - unless prior to my death, I personally approve one to be sung.   Instead, I like the idea of poems, if someone would read one.
f) I would like to be mummified - yet know the chances of that is slim.  But if at all possible …. and please place me in a secure spot, while my essence is elsewhere, any desturbances (like illegal digg-ups, muti-thefts, ect) could ‘call’ me back here?!
g) Anyone who wants to say something, may. For however long or short.
h) ~if your life is over because Im dead, then sheit, Im sorry, but get a hold of yourselves. It was my turn. Now RELEASE me in peace, love, strength and good will. Hope for the best!
j) I dont mind if everyone where’s black (black IS my favourate colour), but dont where black, cause it’s a funeral.

I kept company with great people. All different, but all great.

I’d like to thank V, for what was truly a great friendship. YOU are a rocker, an optimistic burst of fresh air.  Now dont cry a river and keep Madonna out of it!
Also puhlease can you make sure they dont make a mess of the mummification?!!

Ton, my love, YOU are the best fool… most wonderfool man ever
I would want to go to rest on your chest, but know I cant. Meet you in your dreams.
We already have our pact, so I dont need to spell it out here.
Take care, and I’ll send some patience for you (im sure I’ll learn to have some, enough to give away) while waiting for our reunion.
Remember now to not remarry (if by then WE have) (cause according to some people part of church) low and behold she dies, next to which wife would you lie?

Dad, you remarried.    “?”
But Im glad you found someone to keep you well after mom’s passing.
A, please take good care of my dad! Make him laugh and look after his heart.

To my other mates, thanks for the love, encouragement, support, understanding, belief, parties, card-games, music, dreams, moments, magic, laughter, talks, celebrations, 
and have a dop & chop, a spit, or beach braai. But all good energies!

Play Father And Son, and Hotel California at least once. I know, Scoobysnacks may be on repeat if Ton wishes it so.
Rainsong. Danger Danger, High Voltage. Fazel. LedZep, Nina
take our whole CD collection and play it loud.

To my colleagues, oh my sack.
Roomie, bigM, smallM, littleL, proudfoot, porra, B, and you all, plus old boss and new boss, you all, kick ass! 
Remember: Organisation, is half the battle won.

To everyone present,
A Tequila and tobasco shot is compulsary.

*This is not a suicide note, people!!
It’s called - being prepared.

To plan ones own funeral isn’t pleasant.
At least we don’t know the time or day!
But everything will be taken care of, while others can get on with the party.

That is my way.
Over n out

Looking back…  it’s realy funny reading this, and then to read my part dedicated to Ton, with whom Im not together anymore, a bit choking.  
But I remember the funeral and the reason for me going home to write this piece.
And I still stand by it, just I’d lose the mummification bit  “hehe”.I never signed up for a policy… maybe this is my reminder.

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We are nearing the end of 09 and summer has made it’s appearance with a few scortching hot days.   The sun is up early, which means I wake early, which means, there’s more time for me to do what I want.

I have to gel what I want, with what I need to do, such as fitting up again.  
My year has been an inactive one due to my two injuries.  But word from doc is that I may get back in to routine.   AND… it all starts tomorrow!

My intent is to get up at 5 week mornings.  ”laughing at myself… like Im going to be able to do that”
Im not a morning person, so it will be challenging, but with the early rising sun, it should become effortless (at least after a week).
I shall get my ass down to gym for a half hour treadmill-jobbie and another half hour cycling.   Or perhaps if there’s a class at that time, I’ll join in.

Then off to work I go, hee hi hee hi ho.

After work, I will attend my pilates class, with a 15 minute powerplate session after that.

Ofcourse, it is much easier said than done, especially when I lunch around with bubbly abound.   AND, having all these social nights after working my ass off literally, defeats the point.   So, there is a need to tone down a few things, in order to tone up.

I haven’t exactly mastered the thought on how to go about THAT, but Im working on it.

For now, it is a work-in-progress plan, amendable, but strictly unavoidable.   I may NOT skip a day.

I realy want to be fit and flabless flopping around fearlessly on the sand like a mermaid shaking dry.  

Most of everyone I know started the downscale for summer, earlier this year already.  Posting sickening comments on facebook like “spinning is my thing”!    Scary!!
My friends are hard-core.   I have some catching up to do.
But I dont want to be a summer-hottie.   I want be fit always.   And tomorrow is the start to that life I envisage.  

I am very lucky to be alive, and lucky to be able to walk, and lucky that I have no permanent injuries, so I want to get the most out of this body, and treat it well, as it’s given me the opportunity to go on.

It makes me super excited.   I foresee great things.

Summer, life, HERE I COME.

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I took a walk to the kitchen to pour some more singing bubbles when I noticed the moon hanging in the sky, offering me a smile.
It’s smile was so thin, but precise and inviting, I just stood there a while.
For a moment I imagined me holding on to it as if an invisible swing, swinging above the city lights.
What did the city show me in the busy night?

I found myself in thought up there, amongst the stars and a breeze.
Looking down to see the hustle of Tuesday’s streets.
For a moment I took note of all those I wish I could see,
but I knew it was to be just a fleeting dream I must let be.

Goodnight

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Last night Tam and I were chatting about ideas and she came up with the suggestion that Yoshi get’s a corner in my blog.    I loved the idea, because he is certainly worthy of a corner!    I have so many adorable pictures of him.   

I think it’s fair that I a share some of the glee that the little puss brought to my life.
So, let me introduce Yoshimitsu
 Named after the Tekken character, for his moves!

About 4 years ago, Yoshi was sitting in the window of a petshop in Greenacres, Port Elizabeth.   He was amongst another litter ‘looking’ for homes.  
He sat in the corner, looking at the other younger kittens attacking each other, with a kind of ‘knowing’ in his eyes.   I fought to get to him first, so that we could take him home.

Though he is the kind to sit at a distance inspecting a situation, he is quick to pounce and loves to play-fight…
  … and explore.

Some of his adventures cost him dearly and if a cat realy does have nine lives, surely Yoshi will be the one to prove it.   He’s used a few…

He’s also been a great support while I too used up two lives.
Here he lies half on my waist after my car accident (me all braced up), 
not leaving my side.

It was as if he instinctively knew I couldn’t move around, so he would come to me to say good morning when I woke, and spend time with me till he heard his foodbowl.   He’d eat and come back, plonk down.  

When I recovered, we moved house, and at our new abode HE had a serious accident.   I was so worried he wouldn’t make it, but after weeks of care and trips back and forth to his vet, he pulled through.   It was such a traumatic experience, but the only evidence that remain, is his crooked tail.

Since,
the tigger is back to his tricks and appreciate’s a good wine.  
The cork alone can keep him going for hours.

Lol, he is definitely my cat.
 

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I took Jenny up on her offer and set foot in her shop today.   She didn’t know I was coming today, nor did she know I was there.   Though we did meet.   

She’s delightful.  Much like her cupcakes.   Not that I can say I tasted one.

See I went there for lunch and a bottle of champagne took me and Tam in to it’s bottom half and we found ourselves on the otherside of three.  
On the other side of three, there are no cupcakes left…

BUT actually there WERE…
About five pink encrusted treats sat there majesticly on a thrown of silver, there by the mirrored mannequin, which I believe is for sale.   Just the cupcakes were not.
I thought perhaps they are faux, but no, the friendly lass behind the till said they were real and NOT for sale.   
For show then?

I settled for a good look.
Who buys cupcakes at three in the afternoon anyway?    Well,  I do.   I dont buy them in the morning, or for lunch, cause I like foooood.   And then can usually not fit sweetness anywhere.  So sweet tooth knocks later.  
At the Deli on Main it seems you better go get them before the available ones are sold out.

Alas, I shall make another stop soon.    

By the way, that mannequin has my name on it!  I want it, in the corner of my room, on the white table,  so I can put my rock t-shirt on it.

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Aah a topic I shall enjoy writing about.
Wait,…  
brrr, the bubbles are sparkling up my noose, lovely.

Without a doubt, champagne rule my slips collected from outlets all over.   Close second, wine, and third, Bloody Marys.    I don’t mention sparkling water, cause it doesn’t contain any alcohol.   Else it would be number one, obvious!! 

There are times you don’t receive slips, usually for random shooters here and there.

AND as DJ Brad so aptly put it, uncle Jack, uncle Jose, uncle Johnnie, uncle Jim and all their friends ….  they also play a part
SO,
I have compiled a list of my favourites

1)   Nederburg Premier Cuvee Brut
I like it dry with lots of bubbles and there’s something about the cork popping that fulfils me.   It usually makes an appearance at someones house.  Being at someones house happens often, regularly, consistently, weekly.
I seldom order it at a restaurant, rather opting for wine there.  
There’s always a bottle in my fridge.
I LOVE champagne!

2)   Wine - I cant choose, ok but mostly it would be a Cabernet if red or Riesling if white.
When I dine at a fine restaurant, I enjoy wine.   I know my wines quite well, so it’s hard to say that I like one more than the other.   It’s more to do with what Im eating.   And let’s not even go there (I love good food) (all food is good).   But I mean,  I could as easily choose Gewurtztraminer three times in a row dining out, cause I often eat thai, and it is like THE BEST accompanying wine for a spicy dish.   
But then Riesling, on a summers day, out on a deck some where, hmmmm.
(Suddenly oysters came to mind).
At home, the wine gets opened often too.  
I admit to adding sparking water to Riesling at home from time to time.  
I tell you, there is something about bubbles that make me happy!

3)  Bloody Mary
I drink tomato juice like it’s going out of fashion.   
I cant drink it slowly.   I will finish a canned juice in under a minute.    When there is some vodka added, sure I slow down, but still it doesn’t last long.   
I enjoy the Bloody Marys that come with a celery stick.   Some come with a slice of lemon or tomato or cucumber!   But celery is the best!!  
It goes without saying that tobasco is vital.  So is the salt and pepper.   
Keyword is KICK.    Subtle KICK.
Unlike most people, I don’t drink Bloody Marys to assist me with hangovers.   I drink them cause I love tomato juice.  So, when out “pubbing”  I might start off on one or two of them, before switching to the ‘regular’….

4)  The regular…  Bells or Jameson on ice, with water, short glass.
I don’t like sweet drinks.   Whisky is not sweet.   Perfect.
The one’s Scottish the one’s Irish.  One’s more woody, I find both smooth.
I like both.  Irrespective of Jameson being “tripple distilled”.  Bells is still nice too.
So all those people with opinions, in this case, please kindly keep ‘em to yourselves, Im not interested.   I’ll drink either, happily, whenever.

5)  Sangria
An Island regular.   Whenever me and friends meet up at the Island (Cape Recife), we order a jug of Sangria.   Ok, jugs of Sangria.   That and nachos.   
We love the apple pieces floating around in our glasses. 

6)  Bushmans Balls
My favourite mellow shooter.    Sitting somewhere like at Shhugar, the perfect finish is having that banana balling over my tongue.  

7)  Jagermeister
One shot, after a heavy meal is how it’s supposed to be…
But on occasion, like a birthday, it’s just shameless.

8)  Uncle Jose
Tuesday Tequila…    Well, I cant remember ever having Tequila on Tuesday, and though I can’t successfully stomach it at all anymore, with a dash of Tobasco, aka Mexican Asshole, I find it irresistible once in a blue moon.  
I would eat a raw chilly.  Tobasco is nothing.

Those are my favourites.  
There’s been times I craved a Martini extra dry, or a night cap sherry, but by no means are they favourites.

And I don’t consume daily as it really messes with your weight.
Like I said, sparkling water, NO1, it’s just not alcoholic.

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The infamous Port Elizabeth deck party has found a new home, again.  On Sunday it will bring in the summer with The Crave playing the tunes at The Oyster Catcher.

Deck parties are here to stay, no matter how many venues close.    I do kind of wonder about that though….   It seems where the deck parties go, those are the venues that close.   (Or get closed down).  

The deck party has become like an entity in PE.   It has it’s own soul.   It even changes it’s name on Facebook to accommodate the location.    No need for the group to not exist due to closure.  
It’s following, of which Im one, just understand the changes as they occur, and revel in the next meet up.
Just this week, I saw the build up on both Facebook and Twitter as friends, members, editors, bands and deejays discussed the news.

I think the Oyster’s deck is perfect.   Other’s are worried about it being to small or that it might sink with all the weight.   For sure it’s going to carry a load cause no doubt it will be packed.   One girl seemed a little worried about the security….  hmmm. 

BUT,
it’s got 3 or 4 bars (cant remember so nicely).    That’s a relief!   BECAUSE, I recall the days at Tobeys, standing behind hundreds of people trying to get to the one bar.  You ended up missing great songs!  
Oh boy, deck parties….. 
It was always important to get there early so you got a table.   Particularly one close to the band.  We’d be the first on the tables dancing.   No shame.
I have so many memories of deck parties, I could say half my life was built on ‘em.

For a while it became trivial in my life, as other events played a bigger part, but when the deck-entity abrubtly didn’t exist anymore, and then suddenly resurfaced, it was like YEEEAAAAAYYYY!

All day I have had messages, “did you see”, “did you hear”, “are you going”;
HELL YES!    I wouldn’t miss it for the world. 
We have made a date, we’re gonna be there early, get a table, and rock it like a hurricane.
Well…. slightly more behaving than in the past, cause I dont want to break my back again, either falling or have a car fall on me.   Yes, both happened, seperate times, no deck parties were included.

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Im more of a diner than a clubber, but this last Saturday my friend Tamtam (hehe) and I went big.

It was kind of on the spur of the moment too, as I was horizontal most of Saturday feeling green-gilled.   
By late arvie, I peckered up and called Tam up for a drink.
We uhmed and aahed about where we would go, but decided to leave it till last minute, when Im at her house.

I got to her at about 8pm and we decided on Coco de Mer.   We walked in to a rather empty restrobar.   Well, there was one girl dancing by herself, and two guys at the bar.

The music was great.   It got us both very keen on dancing, but we were not about to join this girl who looked intoxicated and out of breath.  
I ordered a Bloody Mary and Tam a white wine.    It’s the first time I ever had a Bloody Mary with cucumber.   It was quite nice.   The cucumber helped de-spice whatever sauce they peppered the drink with.  
Usually I would have about two or three Bloody Mary’s, but at Coco’s I can only have one of theirs.   They should call it Potent Mary.  But don’t get me wrong, I DO like it potent.

We were going to leave, but the music was so funky, we ordered another round.  Tam actually decided on a Bloody Mary while I settled on a whisky.   At this point a loud bang brought the music to a still.   It would be the speaker by my ear that played up.
They didn’t take long to fix it, but at this point I was keen to move on.

We joined a friend at Barneys by the beach.

Aah fresh air, live cricket on the screens, and lots of people.  
In particular an odd looking bunch came in dressed in golf gear.   But without exaggerating, it looked like vintage gone wrong golf-gear.   Im talking guys in pink and orange and soft blue checkered caps and shirts, and socks up to their knees.   Then there was the group photo of them up on a bench,  which we secretly took one or two of, but alas the lighting fugged with us.

We still weren’t entirely happy with our venue (for what we had in mind) as we wanted to dance.  We moved again. 
This time to Castros in Westbourne Road.   
The band, The Crave, was playing, but I felt like we walked into that kind of party where everyone is drunk and you are the only sober one.   Maybe it was the fact that by now it was already half past ‘leven or we were just drinking too slow for this bunch.    We did see a few familiar faces, and had a few good laughs, but were going to make one more move.

Balizza.

What a difference!   Finally we were at a place we didn’t want to leave.   There were more familiar faces, and some also came from Barneys and Castros.  
The golf dudes were there.   They bought us a drink, the one in pink and his caddy.
This was the first time I noticed the fake golf club.   It led me to believe he must be a bachelor on his last night of singledom.   Well, he was very jolly, but his caddy looked like a stern watcher on evil doers.   Definitely more than a caddy that one.   Must’ve been the brother of the bride.  
Then there were the two Belgium guys.   We were all sort of in the same corner and I noticed them checking out the big screen, but then the one came up to me saying they were looking at me, having a good time.   Beside the (would that be a come on line), they were actually quite sweet, and we enjoyed their company for a while, and even had a dance.  But I dont know if it is a Belgium thing for guys to want to hold hands while dancing, that just didn’t work for me.
So I suggested we return to our friends.  

Shortly after, the lights came on. 
Home time already!  

We could’ve gone on for hours!
But home we went having had a great night out on the town.

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Recent activity on my Facebook goes:

H’s status

Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater.   If you give her sperm,  she’ll give you a baby.   Give her a house, she’ll give you a home.   Give her groceries, she’ll give you a meal.   Giver her a smile, she’ll giver you her heart.   She multiplies and enlarges what is given.   So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit.

Comments followed

D:   Wise words!

W:   At the risk of receiving a ton of shit, why don’t women seem to enlarge a man’s wallet.  By the way, what does she do when you give her an iron.

H:   Lol, W, you got me on the wallet.   The last man I dated didn’t carry a wallet, not even a moneypin,  he had pockets.   I always stuck my hands in there, and made that bigger…. teehee

C:   hahaha nice one H, love it, lmao!!

W:   Damn I should put my money in my pockets.  Oh wait I am married, I don’t have my own money any more!

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Personality Type Report for H
Your Personality  

Introvert/Intuitive/Thinking/JudgingYou are an individualist and very independent by nature. You are very adept at devising systems and creating theories. Self-improvement is important to you, and you look inwardly for the energies to reach your goals. You are creative and an excellent problem solver that has the endurance to get those tough jobs done. You need your privacy and time for introspection. So much in the world interest you that you sometimes have a difficult time choosing what activity to pursue next.

My comment:

I think it’s pretty spot on. Im actually quite astounded.  You have to be honest in your answers to get a true reflection of yourself, so there is no use in “fooling” the system.  
I was so precise in answering I was certain a stubborn bull would jump out of the screen at me.   Yet, what was revealed were serious deep antics of my soul.   I like it alot.  
I do think however Im not just introverted.   I’ve always pursued that what challenges me, and sure I was very shy when I was young(er), but I forced myself to get out there and approach people.  Then I went for the jobs that requires one to be a talker, to the point of having to deliver speeches in front of crowds.  Not that it’s not nerve-wrecking.  I cant deny Im most comfortable one-on-one.   Crowds are good for parties!  I got carried away and tried the rest of the assesments (romance, intimacy, human sexuality, biorythems ect)   Apparently my sensuality is off the charts, LOL,  Wait, let me get it….Sensuality Assessment for H

Your Score is 87.5 Percent

You have an extremely well developed sensuality! You derive pleasure from all the senses: hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and feeling. You can be moved by the smell of a rose, a painting done in vivid colors, the taste of a favorite food on your tongue, music, and of course the delight of touching.

Your senses have a direct and powerful connection to your emotional self. Since you are so attuned to your senses, the right sensual stimuli will produce a passionate response in you. A particular song might flood you with the memories and passions of a love long past; or a certain smell may beckon memories of a specific period in your childhood.

Sexually, you are an explorer seeking new highs. For you the journey is every bit as important as the destination. Of course, with all the preliminary pleasures you have enjoyed, your orgasm can’t help but be tremendous! Of course there is a downside to being so sensual, and that is you may have an increased susceptibility to addictions of all kinds. Your pursuit of heightened experiences may make everyday pleasures seem a bit mundane. Try not to indulge your senses so much that you do things like gain an unhealthy amount of weight, or participate in unsafe sex.Ultimately, the world is your sensory playground, and you know how to enjoy it to your fullest!

That one’s an ace!

All of them gave me precise results.  Im very impressed with the site’s knack.   If you’re into this sort of thing….

.

click on the picture

As for me…..

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This last week, Monday to Thursday I had my boss in town who came to help me in my area.  I came back to work last month after breaking my back vertebrae, so every bit of help is welcomed.  

We mostly wined and dined at the Eastern Cape hotspots and the rest of the time I was trying to convince him why I had to move to St.Francis.   I came up with all conceivable excuses why I had to be based there, in particular on the deck of The Big Taverna.

This is one of the restaurants we visited and let me tell you, I want to make my bed there and never leave.   To begin with, I love St.Francis with it’s white housing and it’s canals.   It has all these quaint shops, a holiday atmosphere and much talent, if you catch my drift… But everyone who knows me, knows I love food and I love bubbly, and the restaurants there are quality in a good hand full.   But the one that blows my hair back, is this greek glorious Big Taverna.   They have this major do on for old years eve and I convinced bossman to sponsor my entry.   I tried to get him to have me arrive in a helicopter on the Taverna’s heli-pad, but I guess that was pushing it.   So was arriving by boat on the canals.   It’s fine, I shall arrive by car ready to party Greek style the new year right in.    I asked a few friends I thought would be keen to spend two days there with me, but the plan then changed to having a driver that will take us to Gamtoos after the party.
Perfect.  
When speaking to the owner he said it was already 75% booked up, so Lu my dear friend, are you guys going to be in SA over new years or not, so I can book!!   If you guys join, we will book a table for ten.  woohoo!

Apart from St.Francis, we also had lunch (on Tuesday) at the Walskipper in Jbay.   I soo love their home-baked bread with spreads.   And the Theuniskraal Riesling made me feel totally happy by the sea.   Perhaps more so my boss cause there was a moment I thought he was going to kick of his shoes and head for the water.  

Everyday we had breakfast, lunch and supper somewhere, but on Wednesday evening I had a record breaking case of restaurant-musical-chairs.    We finished earlier than usual on Wednesday with our work and so returned to Madiba Bay guesthouse to have a few drinks with the owner, my friend.   They had a few beers while I sipped on left over Sauvignon Blanc when the boss said, lets go eat something.   The three of us jumped in my car and our first stop was Cubata.  
I’ve heard of this place, never been there and what I heard was quite true.  
Lets just say that it is in a not so good area, and a bit of a shoddy street, not too far from where they’ve built the 2010 stadium.  That would be Sydenham, Port Elizabeth.
That’s the location, but then you look at the place and think GOOD GOD who wants to dine there, but that is exactly what I’ve heard.   It looks crappy.  That’s an understatement, BUT 5 STAR FOOD!!!    Portuguese made hot like the Red Hot Chilli Peppers baby!

As if it wasn’t enough then they wanted to visit Ginger on the beachfront.   Thankfully they were fully booked and I thought that would be it, but we ended up at a place next to Natties in St.Georges.    I dont even remember the place’s name.   We became very friendly with just about everyone in the cosy restaurant with my boss offering to walk to the shop for two older ladies who themselves had run out of wine.   In the process he got a bit lost, but thankfully found his way back, with wine - HERO.

Everyone was happy and the following day everyone was tired, and I was happy to send my boss on his way (after lunch at Mint).

I gained no weight, my area is looking up and finally I have a night to write again.
BLISS

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So earlier this week, I met my friend from Cape Town for lunch at Mint Cafe in Walmer.
This is the friend with whom I usually helped drink all of the coffee cafe’s blends.  
We met at Mint, noon sharp.  Well, I was fashionably early, and she was fashionably late.

It never ceases to amaze me how the thought of my ex pops up everywhere.   While I was there waiting, twitting away on my phone, the waitress came over with my coffee and a message.   She told me that the barman asked where AM was.      It was the second time in 3 days that I’d been asked that…   I thought everyone already knew of our break-up.  It HAS BEEN 7 months!   I guess it would be my sick secret to say I enjoy the standing association, but it just slaps me in my face when I have to actually answer!   But it’s ok, I keep a straight face well!!

I was sipping on my coffee, black no sugar, updating my status on Facebook, when Tam came in.   Not a minute too late, I needed a lighter!   Occasionally I smoke.   Super lights.  But I have now decided to move to Vogue Thins!  

We had such a torrent catch up, I mean we can talk, and I was on highs from my weekend, so for once it was her waiting for me to take a breather.   And just like my Tam, when she had a turn, it first turned to her bag, her big bag, in which she always has something to show, and in this case it was a new fab pink lipstick - which she applied to show me it’s brightness.   What shade and make was that Tamtam, come on comment, I know you want to :))      We preceded to peek our toes at each other showing off nail varnish.  

Looking at Mint’s menu I was in indecision.   Being cold and windblown I felt like something warm to eat, like the prawn pasta….    But the carpaccio, caught my eye.   I’m a sucker for carpaccio.   At the same time I was quite hungry, and the fact that the carpaccio comes as a salad, brought me to ask the waitress if it would be filling.  She convinced me and so I decided on that.   The thing with salads are that they are filled with lettuce.   I don’t like lettuce.   Give me any other green leaf, but lettuce…   OR, if your going to go crazy with the lettuce, go crazy with all the other ingredients as well.   That’s my salad motto.    I picked off my carpaccio and the baby tomatoes and cucumber while enjoying the splurge of parmesan.   Lettuce stayed safely behind.
Tam had a more chunky salad with ham and cheese.   Again lots of lettuce.  But she didn’t mind that.  
I was somewhat curious about the salad dressing.   It came on a side dishi-thingy, I’d think it an elongated olive platter plate…  but my imagination is wild.   The thing is, the salad-dressing tasted just like Dulce’s infamous dressing.   That also became my ex-neighbour’s famous home-made dressing, and now it seems all the outlets sport it.
Well, it didn’t better the lettuce.  I tried.  

Funny thing happened right about then….   Now please try understand, Mint is allocated on 6th Avenue.   6th Ave being like the 3rd busiest road in Walmer.  
A lady driving what seemed to be a hired car,  stalled her car in the middle of the road, right in front of Mint.  She jumped out a little rattled, came running over asking a guy sitting by himself in the corner to help her.  She continued to explain that the car is an automatic and she didn’t know how to get it to move.
?! 
The guy came to her rescue swiftly pulling the car in to Mint’s driveway, gave her a few instructions and she was on her way.    We all looked with great concern for the pull off, but she seemed to have it under control from there on.
I’d think that car rental companies ought to ask more questions…    And people have to be more assertive in helping themselves….  like “I only drive manual please”.  
Well, we don’t know the whole story, it could be that it was the only available car, and she didn’t want to decline.  Who knows,  perhaps she bought her license.   It happens here!
I received this comic strip via email yesterday, thanks Lisha!

We ordered a last drink, me a tomato juice and Tam a cuppa before being on our way.

All in all, I enjoyed the Mint experience.  

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I went past my postbox today to check for mail and found only one envelope.   I did not find what I was hoping for, because apparently the post offices are still on strike.    Somehow, Scientology got in there!

I received a letter from them offering me a free 6 month subscription.   Very neat card from the International Association of Scientologists stating “free offer inside”.    “I am eligible”!

 Do you mean… to be a scientologist, you need to pay?!   What would you be paying for anyway?  It appears that it is to unite, advance, support and protect the Scientology religion and Scientologists in all parts of the world.    This to achieve the aims of L Ron Hubbard, whom if I remember correctly has passed on.    As a member they would send me their magazine, mailings and publications, discounts on Dianetics and Scientology books and then they state that the donations the Churches of Scientology request for participation in auditing and training would be lowered for their members.

Who paid for this little card I wonder… Tom?   Or all the members who no longer have a 6 months “free offer”.  

And why call it a religion?

What exactly is a religion…….
I googled it and they say the following:

Web definitions  
a strong belief in a supernatural power or powers that control human destiny

Dictionary.com
a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies

Wikipedia
A religion is an organized approach to human spirituality which usually encompasses a set of narratives, symbols, beliefs and practices, often with a supernatural or transcendent quality, that give meaning to the practitioner’s experiences of life through reference to a higher power.
The term “religion” refers to both the personal practices related to communal faith and to group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction.

Hmmm, there are many pages to describe religion, but from my own personal experience I know religion to be a certain belief that you follow in which there are days where you go listen to “the word” written for that specific belief.   In mine it was God.   I say was, because my understanding of God has changed over the years, and though I still believe in a God, he has become a little different to how I remember him in the old days.   Or should I say my younger days.    Not that Im old!    Also, I wouldn’t necessarily call him a he.   But that’s beside the point.  

I’ve heard in Scientology their “God” is an alien.   Or so is the hype that is made by people who I suppose dont approve of the science or religion or wotever they actually are.  
But why are they so “otherwise” about it, because I think even Christians’s God in our human description would be an alien…   not so?   Not entirely human equals alien, doesnt it?   Extra terrestrial.  Not of this earth.   And if God created the earth, then he is not of earth…..    =  Alien.     Therefore   God = Alien.   

I think people get scared when their God is described as an alien.    It sounds all science fiction, and people want to believe in what is real.   Yet, I dont believe there has been one God found on earth that was physically real.   It’s all in our belief.

Where does this belief come from….   From a book, the Bible, a very interesting book!   I’ve enjoyed reading it, the many kinds one finds out there, but I’ve had to restart my reading over and over, as in the beginning, it was confusing.

We live in this life where there are daylight robberies, murders and people are raped…. But if you read that book, my gawd, have you seen the cruelty that those people commited back then?!    It wasn’t easy back then either.  

Human nature just has that inherent bad gene.    Somewhere deep inside of us, we all have the source to do harm, to think wrong, to brake down, to be jealous……   to want and even want to take ones own life.   
But the great thing is we also have that ability to be our best.   
And what we focus on is the importance.

I believe religion was set in place to help keep the focus on the greater good.   To exhalt the numbers into the direction of peace, love and harmony.   And perhaps, the vision that Ron Hubbard had, was just another version, but at the same time it was one that brought about the same outcome.   Peace, love and harmony.

It is perhaps just all things bad, that make others point fingers to a vision that is not theirs.   Jealousy?    Well, the Bible does say, God is a jealous God.   

So who’s God is the right God.   And what makes him the right God?.
I suppose the fear that is instilled that if you don’t believe in him and when you die, God help you, that’s enough to make him the right one!   OR?

I read somewhere this quote:
Rather live your life believing in him and die to find out he doesnt exist, than to live your life not believing in him, to find out he exists.    God help you then!

But even so, if he’s this vengefull God, does that make him the right God.
And does it make him the God of all Gods because there is a book about him.
And does it make him the God we all should believe in, because from when we are born no one else could tell you of any other God, cause well, NO ONE has ever really seen God.

I guess that we associate the real God with the one that created us.   And seeing as this one of the Bible created earth, He is our God.    But the book is only about 2ooo years old, and the earth is how old?   The sun the moon and the stars are how old?   The beginning was when?   So they say God came here give or take 2000 years ago, told a man a thing or two, and next thing we all know about the Bible, God and still nothing realy.
Speaking humanly, we could say that an alien came to earth, told a man a thing or two, and next thing a woman was pregnant with Jesus.   

How would believing that be wrong.   They are both exactly the same explanation.   God is so to speak an alien to us.   An alien might not neccesarily be a God though.   But then who’s to say God realy was a God, and not just an alien with superhuman powers.   We dont know.  We believe.

I believe, there is nothing wrong in searching for the truth.   And to experience your own truth as you go along.   Keeping a strong faith in what is good.  
And though i dont know about aliens, or the whole Scientology science fiction going around, I don’t think their religion is any better or any worse than any other.

There is no church I know of that does not ask for donations or a tenth of your salary!
All churches have their rituals.  

Here we have one that may be funded by class acts like Tom Cruise.   And so what!  

I dont understand why religions must fight religions.   It’s like the nightclubs here in PE fighting each other for their patrons.   Every one has the right to believe and do as they please.   And we should be given the option to do so.   If I want to go to Balizza tonight, and not Casa, give me the option.   If I want to go listen to the Pope or Tom Cruise, give me the option.   The one is no more right than the other.    They both offer the same outcome.  

In the end, which ever religion we chose, I think our real God would then know our intention, and I think that is what matters most.

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Thanks go out to Brenton for the headache I sit with today!  It was well worth it!
But to get to the story, I have to start at the beginning.  

Yesterday was RAD people RAD.

On my way to meet my friends for rugby I stopped at Prestons Buffelsfontein and bought all their Nederburg Cuvee Brut.   That is the beginning!   It was celebration time because my friend was back in town.  
Now if you have read my previous posts you would know that she, like me has become single, and she left for Cape Town to “get away from it all”.
Except yesterday I was wholly, lets rather make that holy shocked with the news.   She asked me to come to her old posse, where she lived with her boyfriend.  Which immediately led me to believe that they patched things up, again.   I was happy for her but also kind of just not sure what the whole trip to Cape Town was about then, because she went there to get him out of her mind.    
They have been on and off many times, so to me it was history repeating itself.    Except…
He flew to Cape Town and proposed, and her reaction was much like mine.  Speechless.   Then she said yes.   They flew back and when she walked in his house, again she was speechless…    He had refurbished an entire room, made it her sun room, painted the walls her favourite yellow and put her pretty things and pictures all over.   He also removed all things of his “old life”, and the house had now become theirs and she finally felt a part of it, like she was home.    How romantic is that!    I am so happy she got a happy ending, beginning.

We popped the champagne, watched the rugby and then spent our time in the sun room catching up the last 3 weeks.  

About the rugby, … I was far off on the score.    Australia won.   They kicked ass actually.   They kicked ass so hard I think the whole of SA felt the kick.   Homeground makes a big difference, I guess the Ausies played for their supporters.   But there are so many South Africans in Australia, surely we had plenty supporters there too.   Egh, there is no excuse.  We lost, we drank, we’re hung.

We always manage to make champagne disappear in to thin air.   I mean gawd I got so many bottles, and yet it just goes no where, apart from your head.   But we did have reason to celebrate after all.   

I stayed there till around 5 and then I left for another celebration…  it never ends!
Actually, just before I left, my friend’s fiance’s daughter decided she wanted to do me up for my next party.   She grabbed the makeup remover, and applied quite a pretty and natural face.   Except I said if your making my eyes so barely there, then girl give me bold red lips!   Then she “styled” me and I went to the party as she made me.   My friend said Im such a good sport, she would’ve never let little Bell do her when she is going somewhere.    But I reckon the kid’s got some talent!

SO I arrive at my friend Brenton’s birthday spit and it had been well on the way since noon, everyone in high spirits despite the rugby loss.   It was mwoa mwoa here mwoa mwoa there, as I worked my way through all the awesome peeps.   We come such a long way together.  And I could see that this was going to be a great night.   It’s all a bit of a blur now, but I see the pics are up on FB and I have to say I DONT REMEMBER THAT !!!!
Jagermeister made a huge appearance last night.   And I have this guys face in my mind looking at me as we talked a very long time, but I don’t even remember what we spoke about…   And he is the only one not in the photos.   How bout that!   Then the Balizza dj was there, funny enough, seeing as I wrote about the whole “turf war” in the morning, but do you think I remember what he said.   No.   He did take my number though, cause I see a sms came through from him, saying mwoa and his name.   Maybe he thought I may have forgotten his name….   
I haven’t been to a party in a long time where someone flashes.   It was like a trend.   Like a mexican wave.   It just took off.   I escaped to the kitchen wherein the bodies were like packed sardines, everyone talking, laughing and more Jagermeister.   I made the huge mistake to not eat anything, cause I was having too good a time talking.  It is also there in the kitchen I had this long conversation to mr mystery.   
Next thing I was outside discussing the moon and the stars and my Venus tattoo with ?, ? and ?

 It was rad.   
I would love to say that I will never forget it, but it seems I already have.
    

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Today was supposed to be the Spring Fling Fashion Show at Casa  Bianca.   We were going to watch the rugby and then attend the show, but we have been contacted and told that venues have to change (at such short notice)! 

The Herald reports that they closed because of some bitter nightclub turf war.   What?   I dont agree with that.  I think there are different crowds attending different venues.   Why would there be in-fighting over patrons.    
Well, now that I think about it, I guess, if you look at all the events planned….   there might be some thuth in it.  
I often see on Facebook for instance, a 5fm dj will be coming to… let say Balizza, then another well-known dj is booked at Casa, or Castros, or god knows where.   We literally have to make our choices.    Some people will attend both, choosing a starting point and an ending point.    I prefer going to a restaurant first!    But my point is, all the venues are usually full anyway.   So why was Casa ‘forcefully’ closed down.

Aah, after some searching, if your interested, I found this regarding the evident spewing of forces that be….  The weekend Post, The Balizza dj and everyone else…    I place the dj’s link as he has the WP link included already…   http://www.facebook.com/search/?o=69&init=s%3Agroup&q=weekend+joke#/group.php?gid=122494439518&ref=search&sid=684820317.1587217357..1

Well, life goes on.  In a few hours I shall be meeting my friends to watch the rugby tri-nations.   SA vs Ausies!   I will be sporting green today!!  
And my prediction is,  SA 28 - AUS 14,   phew.  

Pop that champagne my friend, Im almost on my way!!

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I am a bit off my rocket today… because now I have two friends coming from Cape Town later this week.  
Heavens, 3 brunettes on a mission in PE!  Uh lot of intelligence ek se.   lol.

I am going to have to organise rooms at the Nelson Mandela Bay Guesthouse, because me driving in and out from Seaview late at night is not going to work.

September is the month of new beginnings, Spring, the month for planting trees and was or is also believed by Romans to be the month of the god Vulcan.   The god of fire and forge!   So they associated September with fires and earthquakes.   
I hear Los Angeles is under fire and somewhere in the US there were earthquakes!   Tokyo too.   Wow.   God Vulcan you say….

On the first Monday after September 4th, in a town called Abbots Bromley in Staffordshire, a very picturesque custom takes place. It is called the Horn Dance.  !!!!!!  I kid you not!!   They say there are two teams of three men each. One team’s horns are painted white - the other’s are blue.   Each team dances towards the other as if to fight, then they go back, then advance as if to lock horns, and then go back again. After a while they pass each other straight over the the other side and they start again.
“I ask no questions”.  

Then there is the sad September 11th…   

BUT, TODAY is secretaries day.   I don’t have a secretary but I reminded my boss to treat his secretary.   She had better remember me when it’s Jack of all trades day.
All the same, I still got to do lunch in celebration of being my own secretary.   I donned my new spring dress and showed up at lunch looking smoking hot err spring fresh.   
Forgive me, I know people say Im egocentric, but enough about them
(Thanks for that one Lily)!

In closing off my post, I felt like having a look at Javier just one time…
My ’Mr September’.  (more like Mr Every Month)!

And in all fairness, here is Miss September.
‘Her name was Lalla’… and she can be seen at http://fhm.co.za/calendar/  
Technically, FHM wont let me post a copy of the pic here…

And this is as far as I will go for general September.
Back to work!

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Ugh,
had quite a day at work.   You think you’r going in for one thing, but you come out with chores, responsibilities and dust.   Well, I am now home and have brought home my report to do.   Wait a moment while I open a bottle of Riesling…

Rightio, much better.

I had to come and blat first though, because as I walked in I noticed a sms on my phone, from my ex.   Dont be fooled!   He has not contacted me out of his own since we broke up in March.   Sure he came to hospital to visit when I broke my back vertebrae, and looked after our cat, while I was man down, but otherwise not a peep from him.   While secretly I wished for months that he would phone, rock up at my house, come tell me how he wants us to start over.   But nothing.   And now, when I have finally decided to let him go out of my heart and soul, I receive a sms.  

When I saw his name on my phone, I just started murmuring to myself, saying no.  No.   NO.    NO NO NO.   Why now?    I JUST started feeling, “stuff you for not wanting to make this work, buddy”, and now here is his name on my phone.

I knew that it still wasn’t going to be a “hey how are you” sms.   I knew he was just smsing to see how the cat was.   (The cat also had an accident a week before I had mine).   But seeing his name on my phone just suddenly made me feel all sad again.

Why is the universe’s timing so bad?   I really don’t want to be reminded of him right now.   Or rather, I don’t want to be reminded of the almost 5 years we spent together wherein I believed we would be together forever.   All this time I held on, and six months later I am only now really cross that he gave up on us.

Love never ends.   Real love, right?   I wouldn’t know, because I have been in love many times before, I’ve been a lucky girl in having love available, but I always had some reason to let the guy go.   And now the guy I realised that I really love, didn’t want the life-long commitment.    I was on the receiving end.   And I thought he felt the same.   But if he doesn’t want to spend his life with me, then he doesn’t really love me.   That’s what I know, because that’s why I let those other guys go, obviously….

SO, I’ve kept telling myself that if he wanted to phone me or see me, he would do something about it.   But he never did.   
Today’s sms…   I have to remind myself he is only checking to see how our injured cat is doing.   It’s not for me.   It’s not for me.   It’s not for me.

I also have to remember, when I travel, I call him to come and look after the little sheit, cause well,… they know each other.   So what, should I be leaning to, a relationship kinda like Old Christine has with her ex-husband?? 

We share no kids, but the crommy-tailed-cat is a product of our choice made together.   We therefore have a remarkably civil and admirable countership, from where we left things.   And I should honor that of him / in him, wotever.  
It’s just… I get this sense of false hope creeping up my shoulder when he contacts me.   Then I feel sad when I realise that, that is all it was.

Ugh
 

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Are you a shopaholic?
I was called by Woolworths, telling me that they would like to offer me a shopping card.   I don’t know if this would be a credit card or how it works, but though I do confess to be a shopper-of-note, I pay cash only.
Yeah, I admit, it’s because I have been in debt and learnt my lesson. 
The only thing it did for me was put me on highs and I would drop deep deep lows when  I could shop no more.   So I had to sort that out one time.

Now I feel liberated, like the clothes don’t make me, but I make the clothes.     Im still trying to curb that when it comes to my hair, cause this current cut….  liberation doesn’t help for that!

It is just shocking when I hear how many people are struggling at the moment financially in their lives.   Just this morning I was talking to a colleague who was cursing the system cause she just can’t make it anymore.   Our other colleague’s husband was retrenched so she is doing even worse.   Our increases hardly covers the medical aid & tax increases, and this year we’re also not receiving bonuses (apparently).   But that’s got to be a load of bog-wash cause I saw the MD’s letter and it sounds like we made it.   I hope and pray we made it, cause I would like to go on holiday!   To Spain!

The thing is, here in South Africa now, we spend the same amount of money on food, but get half the food.   If you live on your own, like me who’s recently single again, your rent doubles.   Fortunately we don’t pay for fuel, but there are so many extras to take into consideration, like water and electricity, cellphone contracts, mweb, dstv, sabc licences that comes with shoddy services just by the way!!!!!,  insurance, petcare, healthcare, gym, pilates, braais, sushi, rugby and soccer get-togethers, outings and shows, movies, CLOTHES, underwear, moisturiser, you name it.    These things are necessary and expensive.  

Fine I get paid to dine out, but I first need to pay for it then claim it back, and sometimes we just cant do it.   Not when we have other ‘more than usual’ events to attend.

Still, I have it quite comfortable compare to most, cause I don’t own a house or bond and I dont own a car (I have a company car).  

I am very grateful for the life I have and the way I am able to live it.   I am grateful for a roof over my head and support that is always there if I need it.   I am a lucky girl.   And because of that I try to make others’ lives a little more comfortable too.

But now Im coming to the point of my story, I have come to realise that those people in constant need are sometimes the most ungrateful.   Sometimes it is best to help those whom you know who asks for help, instead of helping those you feel daily need help.   Because people who overcome their pride to ask “help me please”, are sincere in what they need.   While beggars are choosers.  
I have learnt that beggars on the street take my money every day.  Yet they are there taking my money every day.   They don’t pay rent, they don’t pay for anything.   And though my few Rands a day could fill their tummies, what do they do with all the other hundreds of people’s money that help them too?     Yet our families, our colleagues are suffering and all we offer is a listening ear?!
I will from now first support the people I know than those I pass every day at the robots.  Because at the end of the day, every few Rands at a robot, becomes a few notes at the end of the month, and will hopefully bring forth a smile.
And it feels good to say “here, please use this and you don’t need to pay me back”.

Believe me when I say, I don’t live a lush life.   I have a utterly small home which I rent.   I have clothes that come in and go out, cause of space.   I eat well, and “kuier” well.   Because Ive come to learn living is better than being alive.

Therefore, I have less and live more and LOVE LIFE.

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I am soo excited.   My friend is finally making her return home this week!  
I must say it has been a long month without her.  

This is the kind of thing that makes you realise how important your friends are.   When they are not there…. then you catch a wake up.    Not that I ever neglected her, but Im sure to love her more now.
We have come a looong way.   The years that bind us are many and the experiences make us a stronger unit.

When I say experiences, I mean all highs and lows were shared, but the funny thing is we must have helped grow the champagne sales phenomenally in PE!   We should have shares already.   And it is on the joy of this bubbly that we have built memories I will NEVER forget

I remember the one time, not too long ago in fact, we ended up in 40s clothing dancing around the room with the feathers and glitz evening dresses, champagne in hand, camera clicking away…   We were singing and then there was the moment that would’ve made Katy Perry proud.   But we hide that photo.   Ok, I was the one in the feathers and she’s the one hiding the photo.   I always seem to be laughing mouth wide open, eyes wide shut, in pics taken at her place.

But now we will be building new memories on her return, as we have both moved house, both become single and both changed our hair!

Birds of a feather flock together?   Hmmm, I dont know.   We are very different beings indeed.   She’s quick with her mouth, Im fast on my toes.  

At the end of the day, Im a happy woman now knowing what I know.
Now all left to figure out, is WHAT WILL I WEAR on Saturday.   

“We are attending the Spring Fling 2009 Exclusive Fashion Show at Casa Bianca”

“And then, a birthday spit”.

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I foresee a busy weekend.   Im sitting with my diary looking at my week ahead.
Suddenly the 28th jumps out at me.   FRIDAY.   What do you mean Friday?!  
Bugger.   I got them dates mixed up with the days.

I had quite a day planned out for Saturday the 28th.   Except the loquacious, flaxen man Cliff is here on Friday the 28th.   This I only notice NOW.   Which means I have to FB my posse to set the facts straight.  

Ugh

Thank heavens for FB, because if I had to phone everyone one by one, I would
phone everyone one by one.

I’m not sure what I did with Friday in my mind, because the farewell I had in there for my colleague today, is actually tomorrow.  

Do you foresee the problem I see?   

It’s ok, I’ve been in two places at the same time, before, miraculously. 

But I kind of figured that Saturday I would have time to leisurely bubble around doing this and that, in-between my Top Billing eating-tour, before finally getting fabulously ready to rock Balizza.

Instead I have a busy working Friday, a farewell that starts at our offices, leaving me no time to don myself to glam status.    That’s frustration city.
But nothing some bubbly won’t sort out.   The frustration that is.   I will still be glorified queen of the suites when I pass through the doors where Cliff is.

Now I see a small problem for Saturday.  I had plans for breakfast at Deli on Main, 

but it might be a Cream Soba Saturday, which means Mint Cafe is the ONLY place to be.   Just because Brad will be there suffering another party.   I only enjoy suffering in groups.  

Either way, Saturday is packed to the rafters, lunching then dining with bubbles and seeing as there is no Balizza on Sat, I shall stay at Casa’s for a while.

And as balance is heavily due, I will rather stay in Sunday, than go to the Keg too.

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My cheeks are red.   They are red out of anger.   I am so blue murderishly angry I cant contain myself.  

I want to take a pair of scissors and rearrange the hair on this unfortunately sweet girl who cut my hair today.

“taking a deep breath”

I am so blatantly going to shame the salon now because for the sake of any sane being who wishes to look great, it would be wise to rather cut and colour your own hair than to visit the salon Del Ponte.
Bloody hell.

I needed a trim and wanted some colour, thinking a few layers with a longish fringe, and keeping to my dark brown hair but with some barely there low-lights.
My usual hairdresser has been not there.   Not quite sure where, her facebook said somewhere.
But I couldn’t wait.   I always have a problem with patience.   And this should be a lesson to me.
Bloody bloody hell.

I happened to be at The Bridge and thought why not Del Ponte, right now.
I’ve never ever cared to try them because the place just didn’t draw me in.  

But I walked in, and the very sweet, soft-spoken, youngish girl brought me a few hairbooks while I waited my 15 minutes.   When she was ready for me, I showed her a picture of the colour I wanted and another pic of a specific layered cut.

She took me to the basin and began the “what shampoo and conditioner do you use” talk.   I use Treseme, I would love to use Redken, but it’s a recession remember!   I dont even humor these conversations because it is utterly predictable and I dont like being sold something when Im already there buying.   She preceded to offer me Niacin because it’s great for this and that.   Generally I like shampoo to just clean my hair you know.  

She started cutting my hair and I felt the urge to tell her to not take length off the back and to not cut the fringe to short and that if I wear my hair in a pony it should fall like this.    She said ok, I thought I was in safe hands.  
What I was in, was danger.   She nearly poked my eye out with her scissors when testing the left length to the right length, and might I add it was off.   Way off.    She was also becoming very happy cutting, and as my hair dropped and dropped and dropped I told her again to not take length off the back.    She showed me that all she was cutting at the back was about a centimeter.    Well bull shit!   My hair was long and now it is not.   In fact the only long pieces she left at the back, may as well be cut off because it just looks wrong.  Like I could be starring as the wife of one of those Hills Have Eyes characters.

Still the rest of the layering didn’t look too bad, so I just figured that now my hair is super healthy.    Fresh cut fresh start wotever.

She then came with her colour book, and asked me which colour I want.   My god, I showed her a picture, it was lying open infront of her, but no, I must choose the colour code.   And I looked at these hair colour samples, baffled, but chose N2.  Dark natural brown.   She told me I would need foils, because in the picture the hair was done with foils.  So I said do it.   Long story short, I ended up at the basin with her asking me if I want it very blond or just a little bit.   This is where I started feeling that the shit was going to hit the fan soon.   I calmly said, blonde… I don’t want blonde at all!   AT ALL.   And I could see the concern on her face, and then she said, ok I’m just going to put a colour over quickly.   Next she’s washing it off and she’s calling the other girl to come look.    Ok now I’m becoming very irritated.   The colour didn’t take over the ridiculous peroxide she foiled me up with.    What happened  to low lights??   Did I ever mention blonde???    I took a look in the mirror and cringed.   I was mortified.   The hairs that came out the foil were yellow and in “batches” so to speak.   Not barely there.   But very there.  
I told her to put the dark brown over that as well.    She suggested  I put the lighter brown as then it would give me the effect I was after.    But she didn’t get, that the lighter pieces were like sections instead of a bit of fine light-catching strands.   Nothing at all like the picture.    She puts this lighter than dark brown over my hair in such disorganised fashion, not doing it thoroughly and not even covering all my hair.   Now I’m starting to fume.   I immediately ask her why it is not looking like what I wanted.  
She tells me she is just doing what  I told her I wanted.    Is she deaf?   Is she blind?  She did mention she had glasses.    Maybe she should’ve worn them.
The colour didn’t take properly, and I was stuck with yellow, orange, and light brown on top of dark brown, and then I am to find out she mixed the dark brown with black thinking it would add shine.   WTF!!!!!     I wanted out.    I had enough.   She brought the Mary Jesus out of me.    Ofcourse she became all innocent of responsibility for what I saw in the mirror.   Like the fault was mine.    Bloody bloody hell yes it was for choosing Salon Del Ponte!
They called the owner who was somewhere in The Bridge and the owner offered me a treatment and another colour in 2 weeks time.   Was she out of her mind.  No way would I set foot there again.   I declined the offer and asked the girl to dry my hair so I can be off.    In my mind thinking I will buy a box colour from Clicks to cover this mop myself. 

I left, R840 later.  Appalled.

When I got home, after my stop at Clicks, I almost died a slow death.   She never cleaned off the dye off my skin.    About a centimeter from my hairline, from my ear, around my forehead to the other ear, was the black dye stained on my face.    I took a wet facecloth started rubbing, but it didn’t come off.    I couldn’t believe she let me walk out there like that.   I didn’t notice it when I looked in the mirror there, because the layers covered it.

It was at this point I let them have it thoroughly.    I called them telling them about the stained dye on my face, and asked what they suggest I use to remove it.   Can you believe the girl said cutex remover.    I must put cutex remover on my face!!!!!!!     Have you ever??    
I gave it hard and fast, thick, disgusted and telling them of the shame to come.  

I bought a Darkest Natural Brown from Clairol at Clicks, and didn’t waste any time.   It came out dark brown and the yellow was gone.   Except the kuk cut was still there and now my hair was winter dark.   I felt lousy and cheated and not ready for my photo shoot that is tomorrow!!!

I popped the cork, poured a glass and now…  I have shamed them.

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