My sister graduated from Med School in December. Since then my gran no longer refers to my sister by her name. It is “the doctor”. “The doctor is sleeping. The doctor is home.”
Every time I go to hot yoga class, I have to remind myself NOT to hate on the skinny chicks. Fucking bitches.
And the latest in the travel diaries
On Sunday afternoon at 16:30, a colleague and I boarded a plane to Kimberley, a town in the Northern Cape famous for a big hole in the landscape. You can only imagine my unconstrained excitement at the prospect.
Upon arrival, we headed straight towards our hotel (Savoy Hotel). No sightseeing for us.
Not wanting to forage for sustenance at such a late hour, we decided to head down to the hotel restaurant for supper.
1) A few days ago, I went to a club wearing flats. It’s like I have no self-respect; like I’ve given up on life.
2) To the guy who screamed at me, “Are you fucking stupid?” You really hurt my feelings. Yes, I realize that my brake lights don’t work; that I came to a standstill really suddenly, causing you to nearly crash into me, which would have resulted in thousands of Rands of damage and possible hospitalization, but really now, that’s no excuse for profanity.
3) A few days ago, I started reading Joy, a magazine for ultra-conservative Christians, who don’t believe in evolution, homosexuality and abortion. And on a completely unrelated note, I don’t own a television.
According to Joy Magazine, evolution doesn’t exist because the Bible says so. I would have found their argument more compelling if they’d managed to explain away the existence of dinosaur fossils. Or radiocarbon dating.
4) This year I only have two goals:
Complete a half-marathon in sub 2
Travel to Mozambique
I am also considering qualifying for the 2014 Two Oceans Ultra-marathon.
A few weeks ago, work sent me to Johannesburg to provide training to our users. Since the organisation was paying for my flights, I decided to spend an extra night in Soweto, a township in Johannesburg. I wanted to learn more about my country, my history.
Soweto (South Western Townships) was home to former president and struggle veteran Nelson Mandela, and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. (Mandela and Tutu were both awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.) It also played host to the 1976 student uprising.
While there, I slept at a local hostel (Lebo’s Soweto Backpackers), went on a two hour bicycle tour of the township and visited the Apartheid Museum. At the backpackers I met a girl from New Zealand. We got to talking and I told her that if she was ever in Cape Town to look me up. I would be more than happy to play tour guide.
Why would someone as self-involved and selfish as I, do something like this?
Because I have been there! I know how lonely travelling can get. I know how overwhelming it can be to find yourself in a foreign country, where no one speaks your language. I know what it feels like to crave human contact, understanding. I know how difficult it can be to restrain yourself from crying when you find yourself ALONE, in a restaurant in Bali, after EVERY FUCKING thing that could go wrong DOES go wrong, only to hear Celine Dion wailing over the stereo about how she doesn’t want to be all by herself anymore. Fuck you Celine. Fuck you!
The Kiwi arrived in Cape Town a couple of days ago. We met up for drinks and supper in Long Street. We talked about our various travel adventures abroad, her time spent volunteering at a private game reserve in Johannesburg and her itinerary for the next few days (she leaves Cape Town on Tuesday and will be spending the next 5 months in South America). I offered to take her to Boulders Beach (to pet the penguins) and Cape Point on Sunday.
I’ve spent the last two weeks attending 7 hour lectures on Geocortex Essentials, AFTER work. The lectures were internet based, and since my institution’s connection speed was pathetic, I found myself at Mordor (aka University of Western Cape) from 17:00 to 23:00. My crazy work hours mean that I haven’t exercised or eaten healthily in ages!
Anyway, here’s a list of things I’m looking forward to:
My friends and I (about 14 of us in total) are headed to McGregor this weekend. We met up on Sunday to discuss travelling arrangements.
Cougar: Barry says he might come or he might go to Tanzania.
Cougar: Er … I mean Transkei.
Me: She’s not on my 30 Seconds team.
Dan: Yeah, she would say, “It sounds like …”
Me: Except you’re not allowed to say, “Sounds like …” And you’re not allowed to say, “It starts with the letter T”. She’d end up saying, “It might be a country or it might be a city.”
Dan: It might be near or it might be far. It might be in Africa or it might be in Asia. Who can tell?
On Monday, I found out via Twitter that my dear friends, Dizzy* and Juan are engaged. To be married. To each other. This is what Juan had to say about the engagement, “It was touch and go,but in the end the brainwashing and breaking down of her self-esteem worked!”
God, I love you guys and I wish you everything of the best.
I work in the environmental sector and part of my job entails replying to support calls. Today I received the following email in my inbox:
I am a concerned citizen. An impersonator, whom I suspect is a self appointed criminal, with an ability to commit covert operations and elude taxpayers, had been pain in the ass for long. Where do I appeal? If you have info and/or resources, please let me know.
I absolutely love the use of the phrase “self appointed criminal”. As opposed to the OTHER criminals, who hand their completed CVs to employment agencies? Under experience they list fraud and armed robbery?
Today, Cougar, Fahiema and I, woke up at 05:30 to run a 15km race in Eersterivier. While I was busy concentrating on attaining a new PB, they were making new friends.
After the race, I found these two swapping pleasantries with an OLDER gentleman. Besides the fact that said gentleman had spittle in the corner of his lips, he seemed genial enough. This was of course BEFORE he asked me to touch his man boobs. I politely declined.
I’m actually thinking of hitting a hot yoga class before heading off to the Vodacom Funny Festival.
This morning, while stuck in traffic, I noticed a girl in running gear and all I could think was, “Lucky bitch. Gets her rush of endorphins before 8.”
Anyhoo, here are some recent Instagram photos.
Picture of Muizenberg railway line.
Photo of roasted vegetables, mozzarella cheese and bread taken at the Empire Cafe, in Muizenberg. The Empire Cafe isn’t halaal and their vegetarian options are limited. Think there were only two vegetarian options on the menu – this and a butternut and feta salad.
The Snarky One recently celebrated her birthday by throwing a waffle party. She leaves for Italy today. On her travel itinerary: Rome, Venice and Florence.
Mural in Cavendish Mall, Claremont. Cavendish is currently undergoing renovations. To compensate for the inconvenience the cost of parking is R10, no matter how long one chooses to stay.
On Wednesday, while every other Muslim was busy celebrating Eid, I’d nipped off to the bank to take care of some business. Since going to the bank isn’t a regular occurrence for me, I was unaware of the fact that it only opens at 9. Arriving 20 minutes early I decided that the best thing to do was waste some time at a cosmetic store. Sound the warning bells.
So there I am, with twenty minutes to kill, walking around in unfamiliar territory. I’m picking up cute little jars of foundation and applying it to my face. Ten seconds into the process and I badly want to scrub the damn stuff off of my face. It turns out I’ve applied to shade too light for my skin tone – giving me an almost ghost like appearance.
I give my immediately surroundings a cursory look but can’t find anything to remove the substance from my face. I walk around a bit. Five minutes later, standing right next to the L’Oreal stand, is a mirror and a pack of tissues. I also spot a spray water bottle.
“How considerate of this store! This will make taking the make-up off so much easier”, I think.
Taking a tissue I quickly wet it with some water before wiping the offending substance from my face. And as I’m busy wiping away, I notice a store assistance walk towards me. She has a slightly perturbed look on her face. And without saying a single word, she removes the water bottle and walks away. And I watch this woman. I watch her walk away with the spray bottle in her hand. I watch her walk straight over to the next mirror and I watch her spray the substance of the water onto the mirror. And I watch her proceed to CLEAN the mirror. And THAT’S when it hit me! I’ve just cleaned my face with Windowlene.
Anyway, peeps I’ll be leaving on a jet plane. See you guys soon.
Picture of random surfer on Muizenberg beach. Photo taken on the day of the paddle-out.