Explanation and stuff

So I was bleak yesterday.

See, I got an email from an ex-colleague, L, who was very upset with me because she thought I'd stolen her story idea. I'd also be upset if I thought someone had hijacked my article proposition, but the truth is that we both happened to suggest the same person as a source for two very different stories. It's more complicated than that, but I'd rather not get into it because it will just bore you and have me in tears.

Anyway, I admire this ex-colleague and was gutted to discover she was cross and hurt because of me, especially seeing I honestly had no idea she would be offended. It came as a huge, out of the blue shock, especially because she informed me that my ex-boss is also hurt and offended. I felt like the time I came flying off my bike on a steep hill, landed on my back on the road and winded myself. My worst feeling in the world is disappointing someone, especially when it's someone I respect and I haven't even known that I'm hurting him or her.

On top of that, my two-year old nephew has been in hospital for a few days with a hectically high temperature. He was fitting and swallowing his tongue, but doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong, even after lumbar punctures and loads of blood tests. Thankfully he's out now and is doing much better, but his parents have driven him to Bloem to have him checked out by a specialist who also doesn't know what's been going on. The conclusion seems to be that it was a virus, so hopefully it's over and gone now.

And then I realised that the company where I work probably won't give us anything extra for Christmas, which means I won't be able to spoil TSC for our anniversary or go away aside from our holiday with my in-laws. Joy.

Then I discovered that I needed to drive out to one of our clients in Meyerton (about an hour and a half's drive) this morning, which hacked me right off, seeing petrol costs a flippin fortune.

But, after arriving home and crying myself to sleep, I awoke to find TSC at home. He cuddled me and took me out for sushi before our church meeting and made me feel so much better. And then I realised that although this feud with L still hurts like hell, my problems could be infinitely worse and that I am blessed to have such an amazing husband, two crazy cats, a wonderful family, fantastic friends and many other good things in my life.

And then the trip today ended up being a really nice break from the office and a fantastic chance to bond with my new colleague, let's call her Icing (seeing she loves nothing better than to frost a cake).

And then I got this in my inbox, which just made me smile:

I've seen it before, but I'm a twisted freak and this never fails to get a giggle out of me.

See y'all tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have time to catch up on my blog reading from today.

Too bleak to blog

Back tomorrow.

Friday funny and new travel site

The other day I got an email from a lady named Julie who lives in San Francisco. I've never met her or chatted to her before, but she somehow came across my blog and saw that I live in Johannesburg. So she asked me to test out the new travel recommendations site her company is building, http://www.nextstop.com/ along with a range of other people across the globe.

I think it's really cool and have added a couple of my own local recommendations. She says that if people like the site and want to contibute, they should sign up to request an account. They'll then be sent an invitatation to add recommendations.

South Africa is not yet listed as one of the travel destinations on the site as there are not enough recommendations. I plan to change that. Care to join me? She's looking for people from all over the world, though. So wherever you are... go have a look.

And for those of you that aren't interested in the travel site, here's some Friday funnies for you:

Gift of the gab / gibberish

Wow. Today has been a solidly unproductive day as yet. My motivation, like the Rand (the South African currency for you non-locals), has dipped severely this week.

The thing about working in an office full of chicks is that there is A LOT of talking that happens. Usually we natter about fashion, movies and our men as we make tea or print out invoices or whatever. But today we spent an hour an a half all sitting in Boss Chick's office having a loooong conversation together. Very bonding, I must say.

So what were we talking about? The men who read this will probably guess 'sex, naked pillow fighting, or last night's television shows'. The women will probably guess, 'how pathetic men are, plans for the weekend, or how amazing the ghd is' (I know Caz has got my back on that last one).

But no... we discussed politics, economics and human nature. I'm quite impressed with us. Granted, we're all probably spouting nonsense, but as PR chicks, that's what we're supposed to do, right? Along with wearing killer heels and crisis control.

Speaking of which... time to get back to work. I have press releases to write and a world to save. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention gross exaggeration as part of the job description ;-) Just kidding.

Have a good Thursday, people.

Twisted intertubes...

I hate the internet today. Ours keeps going down and I am tired of retyping what I was writing, so this is all you're getting for today (if the sadistic line even lets me publish this)...

The difference between Nigella Lawson's way and the real woman's way:

1. Nigella's Way
Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of a sugar cone to prevent ice-cream drips .
The Real Woman's Way
Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Goodness sake. You are probably lying on the couch with your feet up eating it anyway.

2. Nigella's Way
To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.
The Real Woman's Way
Buy Smash and keep it in the cupboard for up to a year.

3. Nigella's Way
When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking tin, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on the outside of the cake.
The Real Woman's Way
Spar sell cakes. They even do decorated versions.

4. Nigella's Way
If you accidentally over-salt a dish while it's still cooking, drop in a potato slice.
The Real Woman's Way
If you over salt a dish while you are cooking, that's tough!. Please recite with me the Real Woman's motto: "I made it and you will eat it and I don't care how bad it tastes."

5. Nigella's Way
Wrap celery in aluminium foil when putting in the refrigerator and it will keep for weeks
The Real Woman's Way
It could keep forever. Who eats it?

6. Nigella's Way
Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and rub it on your forehead. The throbbing will go away.
The Real Woman's Way
Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and drop it in 8 ounces of vodka : Drink the vodka. You might still have the headache, but you won't care!

7. Nigella's Way
If you have a problem opening jars, try using latex dishwashing gloves. They give a non-slip grip that makes opening jars easy.
The Real Woman's Way
Why do I have a man?

8. Nigella's Way
Freeze leftover wine into ice cubes for future use in casseroles
The Real Woman's Way
left over wine???? Helllloo

Personal needs analysis

I suggested to Po that she make this post into a meme, and she did. And then she tagged me and I didn't do it. Shock, horror!

But now I am making amends for my evil ways and lack of blogging etiquette and giving some fellow bloggers their own personal needs analysis, compliments of Google. If I've mentioned you, you are tagged to play too. Simple choose five or more bloggers and ask Google what they need then post it.

Elizabeth needs: protection and to be loved

Slyde needs: to be the number one lynch and he needs a drink

Gill needs: your support and help

Angel needs: a ride and to be hired

Shania needs: a purebred to get over that mutt (?!?!) and she needs her fans again

Catch-up

Shooby-doo, it's been awhile. Thursday last week turned into a busy, frantic day as I scrambled to get everything done so that I could have Friday off. And then we were in the bush on Friday, so no posting either.

Back now and wishing I could have had a longer stay. It was a great weekend and I promise to give you some details soon, along with one or two of the squillions of photos I took of the kudus that were hanging out around our cabin.

As it's a Monday morning and I have catching up to do on Friday's emails etc, here are the highlights:

• Switching my mobile off for two whole days.
• Learning to play poker (Texas Hold'em) by candlelight when the power went off.
• Watching an amazing electrical storm sweep over the bone-dry bushveld.
• Seeing the green shoots already appearing the next morning.
• Visiting a local holiday resort and swimming in the heated swimming pool.
• Not having TV in the house for the whole weekend.
• Having breakfast at the local pub and watching Lewis Hamilton win the Grand Prix for McLaren, putting himself 7 points in the lead for the driver's championship.
• Getting home yesterday and being able to sleep in our queen-size bed again after three nights in the two single beds pushed together.
• Great 'couple' time.
• Enjoying a bottle of ice-cold Rose wine on a blisteringly hot afternoon.

Right... off to do emails now.

Things are happening

Have I told you about our Russian trustee? Let's call her Nina (becuase the only other Russian woman I know is called Nina).

She knows the grandmother of the little boy being abused by our neighbours. The grandmother lives in the Ukraine and phones Nina to check up on her grandchild as the parents won't let her speak to the boy himself.

I have told Nina about what's been happening as I needed to get the parents' telephone numbers from her. She is very distressed about it, and last night, when the boy's grandfather called, she told him the latest developments (i.e. nothing has been done because nobody seems to want to help). He broke down in tears and sobbed, especially when Nina told him she'd spoken to the boy and asked him if he wanted to go home to the Ukraine to his grandparents. He answered quietly, "Yes. Please!"

So the grandfather called the Ukranian embassy in Pretoria, and they are sending someone to come and meet the boy and talk to him tomorrow morning at 9am, to try and get him returned to his grandparents. Nina would like TSC and I to be there as witnesses. I don't think I'll be able to be there, but TSC will.

Let's hope something happens. Frankly, the whole thing scares me. The boy's father has been yelling at Nina and threatening her. I would like to see him behind bars.

Quick post

Sorry for the lack of posting yesterday. It was a typical Monday - lots of activity and stress, not so much result ;-)

Whew... Still feel like I'm in recovery from the weekend. Who knew a church conference could take so much out of you! We were on ushering duty on Friday night and Sunday late service, saw my mother in law on Saturday for lunch between the morning and evening conference sessions and had people over for lunch on Sunday after conference. Busy, busy, busy... i didn't get a chance to go to Taste of Joburg, but I had a great weekend anyway. Even lunch with my MIL was pleasant. Will wonders never cease?

I'm heading off to the bush on Thursday evening for a weekend away with our awesome friends (the ones who have just discovered they're pregnant). Can't wait! It will be like a mini holiday. It just means I need to get this week's work done pronto, so off I go again to try and be diligent!

Friday funny

So it's Friday. Yay! I get to see my bestest friend in the whole world today. She and her husband are up from Cape Town for work, so we'll meet them for drinks and a chat before they fly back tonight. Then we've got church conference for most of the weekend, and I'm hoping to squeeze in a visit to Taste of Joburg (gourmet festival) sometime too, probably tomorrow sometime.

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend! Here's the Friday funny:

SPAGHETTI

For several years, a man was having an affair with an Italian woman. One night, she confided in him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage, he paid her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18. She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it discrete, he told her to simply mail him a post card, andwrite 'Spaghetti' on the back. He would then arrange for the childsupport payments to begin.

One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife.
'Honey, 'she said, 'You received a very strange post card today.'
'Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it later,' he said.
The wife obeyed and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.

On the card was written: 'Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Three with meatballs, two without. Send extra sauce.

More awards...

Yes, it seems to be the season for these. Thanks to Blonde Blogshell for mine (you legend, Blondie).

Now, of course, I need to pass this along to those blogs I rate E for Excellence. Now Blogshell has already nominated many of the blogs I love, and I read about 35 blogs regularly, so I am going to randomly select five of the blogs that I adore from those and nominate them. in other words, if you're not on this list, don't bite my head off. It doesn't mean that I don't love your blog, k?

But here are five blogs I think are uber-excellent:

Mother Jungle: Susan writes beautifully from Costa Rica. I have recently started reading her and really can't stop!

Shared Insight: MsBehavin can be naughty or nice, but is always a good read.

Chester Pillow: Ches is a blogger who keeps me in stitches with his random observations and 70s disco dancing ;-)

The Life of Sass: Also one of my new reads, Sass has a whole heap of alter egos. Each one is entertaining.

The Kattbox: The thoughts of a woman slowly going insane on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Or so she says. Good reading.

Edited in later: And because somebody did not listen to me and decided to take offence.... I hereby also award:

Spacebook: Caz in the fair Cape can even write in Latin!

My (own) Ella, Ella, Ella...

Ella, my car, my baby, my darling, is in for her first service today, poor thing. She is named Ella after jazz legend Ella Fitzgerald because she is a Honda Jazz (only I would come up with that, right?). She's the first female car I've had, preceded by Ziggy, my fiesty Ford Fiesta, and George, my grumpy 1960-something Alpha Romeo Giulia that I got to drive a grand total of twice (my father bought him "for me" and worked on him solidly before selling him off to a collector).

Anyhoo... Ella is in for a service today, as I mentioned, and I am thus far extremely impressed with the local Honda branch! When I had to take Ziggy in for his services in Cape Town, it meant visiting the hideous Rondebosch dealership, which, aside from being filthy, was inefficient and bloody expensive. Luckily it was down the road from the local library, so I could retreat there afterwards and breathe in the smell of old books to calm my nerves. Yes, I'm odd. Had you not noticed? Pfffft...

At the Ford dealership I would wait ages while the surly staff studiously ignored me and continued with their phone conversations. Once I'd finally been served, I could not convince them to drop me off at varsity after I'd handed my Zigster in to have his insides checked out by the monkeys that worked there. It was like dropping your toddler at daycare, only to discover that the childminder was a depressed has-been soap star with a penchant for early morning vodka shots and cherry cigars (where do i get this stuff?!).

Today's car doctor visit was a world apart. I forged my way through the miserable traffic on William Nicol (the worst road in the world, in my opinion) and arrived at the clean and friendly Honda haven, where I was greeted personally and shown to a parking bay. Within 10 minutes the paperwork was done and I was allocated a friendly driver who dropped me off at the office, after politely laughing at my lame jokes and proficiently making small talk with me.

Half an hour later, I received a phone call from the man working on my car to inform me that he would need to align my wheels. He just wanted to make sure I was ok with that and let me know what the cost would be before they went ahead. How different from my Ford experience, where they would do as much extra work as they could before I arrived to pick up my car and faint at the price and the pile of car component boxes on my passenger seat.

I'll see how Ella's doing when I get her back, but so far, thumbs up to Honda for not pissing me off today. For a car dealership, that is truly impressive. I'll take them one of the beeeeeg smiley face stickers I'm currently obsessed with. I'm sure they'll be impressed.

One of my best friends is pregnant

So weird. She's a year younger than me (she's 23). This terrifies me. I have no maternal instinct as yet. Which is another thing that worries me.

"Why is it that weekends go by so fast?"

I find myself asking this question every Monday morning as I stumble out of bed and trip over one of my cats (they lie there on purpose, I tell you).

This weekend was good. My folks are back from their holiday and it sounds like they had a great time. We had dinner with them on Friday evening and they showed us all their photos. Jealousy! They brought us a beautiful hand-crafted blue glass bowl that I can't wait to display in the new house, and TSC got a gorgeous belt, some chocolate and a "funny" T-shirt very similar to this:

Unfortunately, none of the shirts they bought me really fit, but my mom found the cutest little brooch. Will have to take a pic and post it.

And my dad, who is the world's greatest car fanatic, gave the thumbs up on the repairs to my Ella*. Which is great, because he didn't actually know that aside from the bumper that got scraped in the pothole, I also had the left side of the car fixed where I scraped it on a pillar in the parkade. I figured that if he didn't notice, I was safe.

Little did I know that my mother had told him about the second incident! All that skulking around for nothing! What a waste of my talents in the sneakiness department.

Truth be told, I'm actually glad he knows. But he doesn't know that I know that he knows. Did you follow that?

Well, I just saw that I have an award from Kitty Cat (yay! Two awards in two weeks), so my Monday is ok thus far. Hope you all have a fabulous week!

Friday funny and a quick update

We've finally found a social worker who will come and see our neighbours' kid, so that's good news. I've tracked down the phone numbers for the parents (like drawing blood from a stone with our helpful trustees) and she's trying to set up an appointment today. Will keep you posted.

Here is the picture of the house that is soon to be ours. I cannot wait!And here, are your Friday funnies:

Finally... a post about my first award (and other stuff)

Thanks to Elizabeth and Being Brazen who both awarded me on the same day (for a first-time awardee, this is particularly cool).

I'd like to pass this award on to a few bloggers, but everyone seems to have it already (wow - I truly am a loser. The last one to get this award. Sheesh). But, if I read you regularly and you don't have it, be sure that I would like to give it to you. Email me or leave a comment and I will gladly bestow it upon you with great pomp and ceremony.

I have also been trying to update my links list / blogroll thing. So if you're not on there and you think you should be, please let me know.

And here's a picture for you for today:

If you don't know Edward Monkton's work, go to this site immediately: http://www.edwardmonkton.com/

Randomness

I have no sensical (yes, that be a word in the Doodles dictionary) train of thought today. My train has derailed and is making its way through the African bundu even as we speak (write. Whatever. Philistines)...


So I'm just going to post the random bits and pieces that are floating (and sinking) around in my skull. Sorrreeeee for yoooou! Suckers... MwahahaHAHA! Enjoy my ellipsis abuse while it lasts, for it is rare indeedy. Or not.


Uhhhhhh.... I feel like I'm in a dead space at the moment. Nothing exciting is going on, and for once, I'm not under too much pressure. I work well under pressure, so I'm not working well at the moment. Like a little faulty pressure cooker - everything is half-cooked, including my brain...


Moving on... We visited our new house on Monday evening to discuss taking over some of the garden equipment and tools. TSC loves tools like most women love chocolate, only more... In fact, he loves tools like men love boobs. Yes, that much. Tis true. Thus Monday evening's outing made for a long discussion with the people we're buying from and resulted in much boredom on my part. I mean, how excited does he want me to get over a work bench. If it were a chocolate work bench it would be a different story...


I came away more sad than happy... Not about the house... LOVE the house. But the owners will put their gorgeous cat George down when they leave (going to Australia). He is a beautiful, friendly cat who looks exactly like my kitty Marble at an older age, and I would desperately like to keep him, but I can't see a way to do that...

Ok, crying now. Seriously. I am as soft as double-ply loo paper. So much for dead space... Rargh...


In other news, I seem to have Neil Diamon's Sweet Caroline in my head for some obscure reason. I'm mentioning it to ensure that I pass on the misery.... Come on! Altogether now: Sweeeeeeeet Caroline... ba-da-ba... Good times never seemed so good... I know you're singing with me! Sweet Caroline...


Ahem... fisnihed now, I promise...

Yesterday was payday. Now there's a good reason to be singing, bar the bunch of debit orders that eat away my pay within minutes of it arriving in my account, that is...


But, the other good news is that some of my freelance clients have paid, so there is moolah in our work account. Yeeeeha! Still scared to touch it though. Need some tax education ASAP. Ruby? Oooohhh... new song, new song: Ruby, Ruby, Ruby... ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! 'Scuse the howling...


Last night there was a cat sitting on our neighbours roof, howling (yes, cats can howl apparently). Eventually the owners came home and managed to get it back inside. I feel like sitting on a roof and howling... Why? I dunno. Would just be cool to see everyone's faces, I guess. Not so cool to be in a straight jacket afterwards though...


I warned you that the randomness is strong today. And it's contagious... See:





Ok, done for real now. Till tomorrow, when sanity may or may not be restored.

Cat post

No, I am not going to start posting about my two lovely felines every day of the week and updating you on their diet, antics and incredible shedding rate, but I am going to write a post about cats today, and probably tomorrow too ;-)

See, on Saturday, TSC and I were both feeling bleak. This was largely because of the abusive neighbours and the inept police. We decided that we should cheer ourselves up by driving a little way up the road (we live on the edge of town near where the small farms start) to find a place to take a long walk in the spring sunshine.

We were driving really slowly with the window down when we heard this desperate meowing. We thought perhaps a cat had got caught in the barbed wire fence, so we pulled over, crossed the road and starting calling. And this tiny ginger kitten came bounding out of a gutter and launched itself into my arms like a small orange (affectionate) missile.

It was so cute, purring away like a little generator. We looked around for more kittens or a mother, but couldn't find any. The little thing was skin and bones and was desperately trying to crawl into the nape of my neck to get closer (it didn't have much luck though, with my phobia of having anything near my neck. I kept trying to get it to just stay on my shoulder). We couldn't just leave it there, so we took it home.

It was dusty and had a scrape on its teensy nose, but it was so excited to be with us. We kept saying how it was full of beans. This expression prompted the name 'Bean'. Now ginger cats are almost always male (not sure why, but it's true), but Bean happened to be a little girl.

We debated keeping her and decided that we'd see how our cats reacted first. After stopping to buy her some kitten food and a bowl, we took her home. She wolfed that food down in about two seconds flat. She must have been starving. Our cats (the big pansies) were terrified of this little scrap of fur and headed as far away as possible. Not good.

We took our little beansprout to the vet, who confirmed her sex, provided some tick and flea ointment and dewormed her, and said she must be about eight weeks old. I asked the vet if our cats would adjust and she said maybe, but it would take a few months. Seeing we're moving in a few months, we didn't think ti would be fair on our cats to take on two huge new adjustments.

Fortunately, our (only) nice neighbour LOVES cats. She's been trying to convince her husband to let her get one, but he wasn't keen. Until he met little Bean, that is, so just won his heart with her affection and red-headed wiles (yes, as a ginger, I use those too. Not).

We handed her over with peaceful hearts, watching as Sandra cuddled the little bundle of fur to sleep in her arms. I'm very happy that she's found a good home, even if they did insist on renaming her Tinkerbell (?!?!?).

"It's Bean a good day," I said to TSC as we headed back to our unit. I just couldn't resist!

___________________________________________________________________

About the nasty neighbours: We have given them the details for the sister at the Teddybear Clinic, and they have promised to schedule an appointment today for later this week. I'll give the clinic a ring tomorrow and check whether or not that's been done, and we'll take it from there.

Monday update

After work on Friday, I called Childline to report my neighbours' abuse of their child. I was told there's nothing they could do, and given the number for Child Welfare. I called Child Welfare and asked to speak to a social worker, who told me off for calling on a Friday afternoon, saying there was nothing they could do. She advised me to call back this week.

I headed over to the local police station to open a case against my neighbours. I spoke to two officers who didn't have any idea what I should do, before being directed to a lady named Beauty who was very helpful.

She explained to me that the Child Protection Services unit has been closed down and that child abuse now falls under the auspices of the general police. I think this is ridiculous, as you surely need special training to deal with the situations that come up. Beauty told me that there's no record of my three calls or of a case being opened, and that they haven't logged a visit to my complex on that evening. She advised me to call emergency services back and get their feedback on my reference number from Friday, to put it all in an email and send it to Crimeline, who will then brief the police to open a case.

I called emergency services and quoted my reference number, asking them which police vehicle had made the call and what had happened. I asked the woman to read me her report. It said they had stopped by at 21.20, spoken tot the mother and sorted it out. That was it. As I was the complainant, they should have taken a statement from me, not just the lying, child-beating mother!

Yesterday, at church, I spoke to a friend who is a social worker. She called me this morning with the name and number of a state social worker who will be able to come out to the complex. She also have me the name and number of a sister at the local Teddybear Clinic who can do an assessment on the child. She advised that becuase the parents kept saying how worried they are about him, that he's a psychopath and a thief and that he needs help, I should ask them to take him to the clinic. If they resist, I can bring in the police or the state social worker. I will keep you posted on what happens next.

Too far this time

Two of my favourite bloggers, Being Brazen and Elizabeth, have both given me a nice award, which makes me very chuffed and I will certainly post about it next week. Elizabeth says I make her giggle, which I'm glad of, but today I'm going to write a very serious post.

My neighbours have taken it one step too far this time. We have put up with their screaming matches, wondering the whole time whether he was beating her or the kids. We have also put up with feeding and loving their cat, which they have completely abandoned. But last night, for the first time, they gave us proof that they are more than just nasty neighbours - they are criminals.

As I was dishing up supper at about 19.15, we heard a child screaming its lungs out, so we went outside to investigate. There was blood all over the corridor, and the screaming was coming from inside their flat. I wanted to call the police, but TSC went straight to their door and starting bashing on it. Eventually, after much shouting, the father came to the door and TSC demanded to know what was going on. The guy wouldn't let him see past him into the house and started making all the usual excuses - the kid slipped and knocked his head etc.

TSC kept pushing and telling him to bring the kid out so he could see if he was ok, and the guy stalled until his wife (who is the one who hit the kid) had washed the blood off the kid's face, telling TSC that the child (who is eight years old) is a psychopath, that he shoplifts and tried to poison them and that they're trying to get social services involved to help them with this "problem". He also said that the kid says his grandmother "touches" him, but they don't believe him. Five minutes later, he says that the kid is mentally unstable because he was molested for five years.

Eventually, the wife drags the kid out. His face is blue on one side and there are fingermark bruises all down one arm. TSC asks the kid if his mother hit him. The kid won't look at him, but shakes his head - no. TSC gets down on his haunches, looks the kid in the eyes, and says, "Please tell me the truth." The kid nods his head - yes. The mother then begins yelling at TSC saying that they don't want their kid, he's a piece of rubbish, they want to get rid of him and they'll pay us to take him away, he's just costing them money. All of this in front of her child.

While this was all happening, I had called emergency services and asked them to send the police. They took down my details and promised that a car would be around. This was at 19.30. For the next hour, we forgot about dinner while this man tried to talk his way out of the situation, saying that he realises things get out of hand sometimes (his wife packs her stuff and threatens to leave him on a regular basis after his verbal (and probably physical) abuse), but that they are trying, and with all due respect, we're not parents so we can't understand etc, etc.

I called for the police again at 20.15. Then again at 21.10. When we eventually went to bed at 11.30 after waiting for four hours, they had still not arrived. Apparently they came after midnight, when the child was in bed, and just took a statement from the parents. What help is that? Like they told the truth! Fortunately, our other neighbours (the nice ones) and TSC had ensured that the kid was safe. Had none of us intervened, who knows how far it would have gone.

I finish work early today and will be going straight to the police station to file a report. I will also be writing to the newspapers. It is simply unacceptable that in a situation where a child is at risk, so little is done. I cannot handle abuse of children and animals. It makes me shake with rage because they have no choice, no power to fight back.

Two Mondays

Thanks to yesterday's public holiday, today feels like a Monday. So two Mondays in one week! Eep. But tomorrow's Friday, so it's all good.

And I just realised that we're nearly into October, which means I need to start on Christmas presents now in order not to be broke in December. I tell myself that I'm going to do this every year, and I don't. But this year will be different.

Hmmm... de ja vu.

But seriously... I want to go on a kick-ass holiday at the end of the year, so I will need to have some cash then. Which means I will need to either:

a) Win the lotto (unlikely, seeing I don't play)
b) Get in some more freelance jobs ASAP
c) Convince people to order their corporate gifts through me or let my company do their PR (coz I'd get commission)
d) Cut down on my spending (also unlikely given the current inflation rate. Ok, and my tendancy to buy random gifts for those I love)
e) Open a shebeen on my veranda (anything's possible in uor dodgey complex)
f) Take up a new line of work that pays better (politics, maybe? Or law. I'm argumentative enough to be a lawyer.)

This cash injection is absolutely necessary to my well-being. See, I need to unwind as fully as possible during the first week of holiday because my in-laws are taking TSC and I to a lovely resort just after Christmas for a week, which will be... stressful to put it politely.

There are not many people I would choose to go on holiday with, I prefer to just get away from everything and everyone. And my in-laws, although they are very kind-hearted people who don't mean to make things difficult, are experts at stressing me out. Firstly, we don't speak the same language. Secondly, they live in a different world to me. Theirs is populated with their family, their sheep, farm life and red wine that's been stored overnight in the fridge. Mine is inhabited by lunatics, irrational clients, my mental cats and "room-temperature" red wine. So we battle to relate to each other.

Thirdly, their idea of a holiday is to go shopping. This makes sense, if you think that they live in a small town where there aren't many stores. But my idea of a holiday is to escape to a quiet cabin in the mountains or on a beach and retreat from the madding crowds. They like to spend every single minute surrounded by people. I like to hide from the world with just TSC by my side.

So I worry that the week will be claustrophobic for me. I can handle that for a few days, and I just want TSC to enjoy his time with his folks as much as possible seeing he doesn't see them often. But I do plan on relaxing as much as is humanly possible before then. And seeing it's TSC and my second wedding anniversary on 16 Dec, I'm thinking spa treatments, romantic dinners and adventures together are in order.

So... any advice on making money in a hurry (legally, please)?

The pigs

Argh! I don't know about you, but I find sitting in traffic super-stressful. My blood pressure rises as I compulsively watch the clock ticking and shake my head at the nutter in the stationary car next to me picking his nose. In Johannesburg, however, unless you work from home, there's no real way to avoid the traffic. I'm more fortunate than some in that I only live 8km (just under 5 miles) from the office. BUT it takes me on average 25 minutes to get there!

Why? Well, aside from the bumper-to-bumper traffic, there are numerous other obstacles to overcome. My route to work is fairly simple. I drive out from my complex, onto a main road. I keep straight until I hit a T-junction and then I turn left. I stay straight again through a couple of robots (yes, that's what we call traffic lights in South Africa), turn right and go through two more robots and arrive at work. On a weekend it takes me 10 minutes. Well it would if I ever worked on weekends, that is ;-)

BUT, on the road just after the T-junction, there are currently massive roadworks going on. There are men working, large construction vehicles and loads of those little orange cones that seem to scream "hit me!" (or is that just me?) stretching for about 1km. Why? Understanding that the traffic on this road is completely insane, the city council has decided to widen the road. Fair enough. I can deal with that if it means the traffic will let up some time in the future. What I can't get over, however, is that every morning, on the same road, the cops set up a roadblock during the peak traffic, which makes it a million times worse. Yes! there they sit in their cars, all 20 or so of them, pulling off our mini-bus taxis and anyone else they don't like the look of, which causes havoc.

Once I'm past that road, it's usually a lot better. Today, however, the idiots had set up ANOTHER roadblock in the last road I take. Grrr! Are they thick? Have they not SEEN the traffic? But no, the clever clogs must put two blocks on two already busy roads during peak hours next to the roadworks?!?!?!

I will not let this colour my day. I will not. I will console myself with the fact that my new house is much closer to work (about 4km away) and cuts out the roadworks, if not the roadblocks.

Our house, in the middle of our street...

SA post

Caz tagged me to do this meme she created, so here it is:

Link back to the original meme (that would be this post) and the meme inspirer (that would be EXMI)
Link to the person who tagged you (Caz)
Give (at least) 5 reasons why you love SA
Tag at least 5 peeps
Let me know when you've done it!

Now please note that there are gazillions of things I love about SA, and most of them have been written about by other peeps who've been tagged in this meme. It's Monday morning, so I'm not even going to try to be original, sorry for you. If you're bored by this, come back tomorrow. I'll try for something scintillating then (but no promises, k). So, off the top of my head, here are some of the things I love about my country:

1. I love South Africa because it's never dull. Whether the President has been recalled by the ruling party or some foreign tourist has tried to pet a lion and been munched, there's akways something going on.

2. I love South Africa because most of its people (there are exceptions, of course) are friendly and fairly well-mannered. If you sit next to someone on a bus or a plane, more likely than not, you'll enjoy a good conversation, unlike on public transport in most European countries, where everyone avoids each other's gaze as much as possible.

3. I love South Africa because its people are ambitious. Not content to be seen as just another poor African country, South Africa is hosting the 2010 FIFA World Cup, establishing trade relations and (finally) getting a bit more up to speed on technology. We have one of the best banking systems in the world, our Para-Olympic team recently used their competitive spirit to score a whole whack of medals, our Constitution is the most progressive globally, and you can drink water straight from the tap (faucet) without filtering it (which Rand Water tells us is a big deal).

4. On a less serious note, I love South Africa because we're half a season behind in terms of fashion, so you can get away with last year's look for longer ;-)

5. I love South Africa because of the variety. I mean this in terms of environment, people and even food. Pretty much no matter where you live in the country, you can travel 20 to 40 km and you'll be back in the middle of nature, surrounded by a wealth of local fauna and flora, whether it's the long grasses and cosmos of the Freestate, the fynbos of the Cape or the lush semi-tropical plants of KwaZulu-Natal. If you are in almost any public place with a group of South Africans, you'll come into contact with people of different colours, languages and faiths. And if you're looking for traditional South African food, you could mean the spicy Cape Malay dishes, good old Afrikaans pap en vleis (a corn-based starch food and meat) or potjiekos (food cooked over the fire in a cast-iron pot), a township Smiley (a cooked sheep's head), or the Zulu favourite, amasi (fermented milk that's a bit like cottage cheese). Truly a rainbow nation in all senses of the word.

Right, I hereby tag:
Because I Can
Arkwife
Ruby
Po
Leez

Fridayness

There is nothing better than getting a nice handwritten letter in the post. That's why my grandfather and I write to each other. We could SMS (yes, at 82 he is great on the cell phone) or call, but we write.

I really wish I got more letters. Hence my question to you... Anyone wanna be penpals? Not in the "I'll write to you every week on Sunday at 2pm" strict kind of way, but just to exchange the occasional correspondence for fun. If so, email me: doodlesofajourno@gmail.com.

Ok, aside from that... it is Friday, and I am back at work. Yesterday was spent in bed, sounding like a donkey with my hee-hawing flu voice. TSC thought it was hilarious, of course. It's a bit better now. I just sound like a phone-sex line, or a 30-a-day smoker. All gravelly and such. And so, while it lasts, I will use it (as any woman would) to get exactly what I want out of my darling hubby. Hehehe...

Ok... I am stalling and writing rubbish, when what I actually want to write is: THE OFFER ON THE HOUSE IS ALL GOOD TO GO AND WE ARE SOON TO BE HOME OWNERS!!!

So excited! I've already started planning where the furniture will go, what veggies to plant and what sort of house-warming to have ;-) Yeeha! Our first house. Our house... in the middle of our street... Can't get that song out of my head.

On that happy (ecstatic, over the moon, joful etc.) note, here's a Friday funny for you. One of my favourite C&H strips:

Have you ever wondered...

How people figure stuff like this out? And yes, I tried it, it works for me.

Grab a calculator (you won't be able to do this one in your head).
1. Key in the first 3 digits of your work DIRECT landline phone number at WORK (NOT the area code).
2. Multiply by 80
3. Add 1
4. Multiply by 250
5. Add the last 4 digits of your work phone number
6. Add the last 4 digits of your work phone number again
7. Subtract 250
8. Divide by 2

DO YOU RECOGNISE THE NUMBER?

Nervous/excited

Right. Rather than bore you with the details of my disgusting and slimy head cold, let's talk about something nice. Well, for me, anyway...

We have made an offer on a house. And it has been accepted. Our only clause was that a structural engineer be brought in to have a look at a crack on one of the upstairs walls before we sign. So I am trying very, VERY hard not to get excited about anything until his report comes in (today or tomorrow), but I am walking around with butterflies in my stomach.

It is a wonderful house. TSC was sold on it because it has loads of garage and working space, and I was won over by the beautiful veggie garden and the fact that it's like something out of Anne of Green Gables. And the owners are nice. And the rooms are huge. And it has a fireplace. And, and, and...

Please, if you're the type who doesn't mind being asked, say a little prayer that (God willing) everything works out fine!

Says it all...

Too full of yet another head cold to write more bull.

Role play

Have you ever noticed how you end up in roles you'd never have imagined yourself in?

I've never seen myself as the entrepreneurial type. At all. I kind of pictured myself as a journalist working my way through the ranks at some nice glossy consumer magazine, until, after many moons, I would eventually make editor.

Instead, at the age of 24, I find myself working my half day PR job in the mornings, and then running my own freelance business in the afternoons. I'm not exactly sure how that happened, seeing I don't have a clue how to run a business.

Frankly, I am amazed that all the right paperwork got filled in and that the thing got registered at all, nevermind the fact that I actually have a couple of clients. I mean, the last time I did book-keeping was in grade 9, and I sucked at it even then. I have no idea how quotes and invoices and all that jazz works. Yet, somehow, I have still managed to get a bit of money in the bank. I still need to find someone to help me figure out the whole tax thing and do the book balancing so I don't end up in jail someday.

I just feel like such a fraud. I am terrified that someone will discover that I ended up here by accident and don't know what I'm doing. I stress that my clients will realise that I'm actually just a little girl playing dress up. This whole thing petrifies me beyond belief.

Is it like this for everyone? Somebody please say yes!

Current addictions

Right... Being Brazen tagged me to do this meme she made up awhile ago, and I am finally going to do it, seeing time allows.

Firstly, I tag:
Angel
Sleepyjane
Gill
Arkwife
Caz

Now... the rules:
*Post at least five current addictions (with some details please)
*Mention the person who started this game of tag (Being Brazen) and also the person who just tagged you (in my case, also Being Brazen).
*Type your post with the heading "Current addictions"
*Tag at least two people and pass on the above rules.

And, my cuurent addictions:

Viva la Vida, the latest Coldplay CD. I have a love/hate relationship with this album. I love the music, but I hate having the tunes stuck in my head for the whole damn day, everyday.

J'Adore by Christian Dior. One of my favourite scents, I got a mega-big bottle for my birthday.

Spring blossoms. It makes me so happy to see the green shoots and beautiful fruit tree blossoms along the roads of Johannesburg. Feeds my heart.

Easy Living magazine. This is a UK mag that I adore. I can only find it in Checkers and Exclusive books, but it's jam-packed with useful info on everything from beauty to health and simple solutions to everyday products.

Avocado. On its own, with balsamic vinegar in a salad or with grilled chicken breasts on a crusty roll... Yum.

Post, as promised

It has been a busy time! I guess it's the whole end-of-year-itis that hits around this time every year, but I really feel like I need a holiday now. That's wishful thinking, of course, but we're all allowed to dream.

My folks are setting off on their little little 3-week jaunt around Eastern Europe next week and I am so jealous. TSC and his team will be repainting their house while they're gone, which means that I will barely see him. That man is unbelievable when it comes to work. As soon as he has a project on the go, everything else falls away... his studying, his wife... *Sigh* I'm hoping that he'll be more reasonable this time, but I doubt it. I'm pretty sure that he sees this an yet another opportunity to try to prove himself to my folks.

In other news... I scraped the side of my car on a pillar in the parking bay last week. Argh! I drive so carefully and try to take really good care of my car and then I do something stupid like that. THEN... when I took the bloody thing to the panelbeaters, they tell me that, actually, the front of my car needs work too! Why? Because I went through a huge and completely unavoidable pothole that stretched right across one of the main roads in Rosebank (a very affluent part of Johannesburg) awhile ago, which has buggered up my bumper.

So I call my insurance agency and log the claims. Becuase the incidents are separate, they apparently need separate claims and I must pay the excess twice over. AND... because I am under the age of 26, my excess is very much higher. I could cry.

Sorry - this is very much a rant of a post, isn't it? Even Formula One has let me down. After quite a dull race on Sunday, the last few laps burst into action when the rain came down, and Kimi Raikkonen and Lewis Hamilton (two of the main championship contenders, from Ferrari and McLaren respectively) were fighting it out on the track. They came close to touching and Lewis, who was behind, needed to go off onto the grass. He came back on the track ahead of Kimi. Now, in this situation, a driver can be penalised for gaining advantage off-track, so according to the rules, Lewis needed to surrender the position back to Kimi. He did, letting Kimi pull in front of him. He then made another attempt at overtaking the Finn, and pulled it off magnificently.

Kimi then lost it and smashed his car into the wall, while Lewis managed to remain cool and calm in crazy conditions (skidding around a wet track on his "dry" tyres) to pull off a win. Celebrations ensued on the podium.

And then... because the body that runs F1, the FIA, and Ferrari are big buddies (fact: the Ferrari team boss and the FIA boss go on annual ski holidays together), Ferrari complained that Lewis still gained advantage off-track, and the FIA penalised Lewis by 25 seconds, putting him in third place, and handing the race to the other Ferrari driver, Phillipe Massa.

This drives me mental, especially because in the last race, Ferrari unsafely released Massa into oncoming traffic in the pit lane, which blatantly trangresses the regulations, which state that a team needs to check the pit lane before allowing their driver out. Did the FIA allow Ferrari's race to be compromised? No, they just gave Massa a fine.

Almost enough to make me quit watching. Almost.

Sorry for my absence over the past 2 days. I've been running around organising two big events, which are now (thankfully) over. I thought it would be downhill from here, but apparently not, as I have two freelnace rush jobs that I need to squeeze in that both require reserach and interviewing and need to be started and completed within the next four days. Eep!

So I leave you with a funny and a promise to post properly again soon.

"I was shopping at the local supermarket where I selected the following items:
A litre of milk
A carton of eggs
A carton of orange juice
A 250 gram package of bacon
A head of lettuce
A 1 kilo can of coffee

As I was unloading my items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind me watched as I placed the items in front of the Cashier.
While the cashier was ringing up the purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single."
I was a bit startled by this proclamation, but I was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since I was indeed single. I looked at the six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about my selections that could have tipped off the drunk to my marital status.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I said: "Well, you know what, you're absolutely right. But how on earth did you know that?"
The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."

Moral of the story... Never question a drunk."

Of Mondays and movies

Why does everything go wrong on a Monday? Is it so that you'll have the rest of the week to sort it out, or is it to drive home the point that the weekend is very definitely over? Just a question. Today hasn't been especially bad. Aside from the printer pulling its usual attention-seeking nonsense and the fact that ALL my colleagues are out of the office at an exhibition today, it's going fairly smoothly.

Our friendly kind-of-temporary receptionist, CK, is in for the day, so at least I have company in taking everyone else's calls and managing their clients. And it's unusually quiet, so I may actually get some of the things on my list done for a change.

The weekend was great. TSC's childhood family friend, Rob, spent it with us. He's really easy going and didn't seem to mind the fact that we didn't really give him proper guest status (which would've meant showing him the sights of Jozi [are there any?!?]; waiting on him hand and foot; and serving him 3-course gourmet meals). We treated him more like a member of the family, which means that he got to, go grocery shopping, sample my pasta a la Tamara, watch old DVDs with us and even help with the clearing up after meals.

We enjoyed having him, and I think he enjoyed his weekend. Yesterday was the long-awaited joint birthday picnic, which was AWESOME (in my opinion)! And yes, Slyde, after this, my b-day truly is over for the year, k?

It was a little windy, but we had a good turnout of over 30 people and there was more than enough food (I now have a fridge stocked with enough potato salad and various juices to last the next month). Everyone seemed to get along, and my only worry was that I didn't get to spend enough time with anyone because I was trying to talk to everyone.

Of the bloggers, Angel, Glugster, Ruby and Arkwife were in attendance, along with Angel's son, Damien (aka The Knucklehead). What an awesome bunch! I've only met Angel before, and I loved the chnace to finally meet her man in real life. He is just as sharp as he is on his blog. Although, Glug, if you're reading this, I still find you intimidating in all your technical wisdom ;-)

We made everyone play a loud and childish (but fun, I hope) game called 'Hah', which requires the use of both hands. Angel somehow managed to play with one hand while taking pics with the other. She also made THE MOST AMAZING CUPCAKES in the world! they were so beautiful you didn't want to eat them, but YUM, I'm glad I did! With purple frosting (my favourite colour), which was strawberry flavoured, and little sparkles and decorations, they were gorgeous works of art. And the red velvet recipe meant they tasted like a little slice of heaven. Mmmmm... making myself hungry now. Angel, I still have your cake tray! I must get it back to you sometime soon.

Ruby and Arkwife are also stunning ladies that I hope to see more of, and, despite the fact that they'd never met us before, they still managed to come up with a funky present - these spoons made entirely of chocolate that you stir into hot milk to make your own Belgian hot chocolate. How cool is that?

My only regret is that by the time everyone had left and we'd packed up, we were covered in sticky juice, various dips and other food remnants, so we decided to go home instead of visiting EXMI and went home to shower instead. Then we watched Untraceable, starring Diane Lane and Colin Hanks, which traumatised me with its twistedness.

Ugh... I get shivers down my spine just thinking about it. It's about an Internet serial killer who devises incredibly sick ways of killing his victims with help from his readers - the faster they post, the quicker they die. If you, like me, can't handle depictions of cruelty to animals or graphic scenes of torture, STAY AWAY from this one.

It would've been a bad end to a good weekend, but we saved it by rewatching one of my all-time favourite movies - Snatch, directed by Guy Ritchie. So funny, even the millionth time around.

Ok, this has been a long post. Ending it now. Happy 1st day of spring to those of you in the Southern Hemisphere!

Blog Day

Ok, I'm cheating, coz I'm writing this on 1 September and then post-dating it to 31 Aug, but I checked and it's still 31 Aug in the Hawaii-Aleutian time zone, so it's still International Blog Day.

So here goes...

My five blogs that I rate are:

• The Purring Cat, written by Kitty Cat. A life blog by a lovely lady living in a small coastal town in South Africa who started blogging very, very recently.
• The Arkives, written by Arkwife. Not really new to blogging, Arkwife has done the MySpace thing before, but settled on Blogger as her new space. Yay!
• My Quarter Life Crisis, by Leez. This is Leez's second blog in the space of two months, and it's brilliant. Even if he does write like a girl. Or so some say.
• Being Brazen, by Being Brazen. Not really a new blogger, Being Brazen writes from Cape Town and has been doing so since May. Always entertaining!
• Alas My Dear, by Alas my Dear. A grad student in cancer research, an amazing crafter, and soon to be a mommy, AMD writes beautifully from Singapore.

Hope you enjoy as much as I do! Visit the Blog Day website at: http://www.blogday.org/

The long walk to Friday...

Is, at last, over. It has been a rough week and I am super stoked that the weekend has arrrived.

I have as much energy right now as George Bush has common sense, so I won't be posting a long one today.

“Life is a cement trampoline.” —Howard Nordberg. Stolen from SA-Essay's blog, this is my quote for the day.

No, I'm kidding. It's really not so bad ;-) I have stuff to look forward to... picnic on Sunday, spa treatment for hubby and I next weekend (my birthday present from my parents), hubby's birthday next Sunday... And all these good things make the rough stuff okay.

Before I bugger off to spend some quality time with my pillow, a last cry to all those in Gauteng this weekend to join me for my birthday picnic. Mail me if you're keen: doodlesofajourno@gmail.com.

Have a good one!

Joke

i'm completely out of steam today (it's been a rough week), so you'll have to do with a joke, which may or may not be preferable to a proper post:

An old Italo-American man lived alone in the country. He wanted to dig his tomato garden, but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.

Dear Vincent,I am feeling pretty badly because it looks like I won't be able to plant my Tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me.
Love, Dad

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Dad,Don't dig up that garden. That's where I buried the bodies.
Love, Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

The next day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Dad,Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.
Love you,Vinnie

The lesser of two evils

I...will...call...the...estate...agents...today...

I don't want to, but if I will myself hard enough, I'm sure I can convince myself to call. Why would I do this to myself? Am I complete masochist? Sometimes. For instance, I like to play with the candles on restaurant tables and dip my finger in the hot wax... But I digress... No, the reson for this seemingly daft decision to contact the soul suckers is that I have decided that the estate agents are indeed the lesser of two evils.

*Gasp!* What could possible be worse than a mess of estate agents?!

My current neighbours.

NEED TO MOVE! If it's not the Celine Dion wannabee upstairs screaming, "A new daaaaay has beguuuun!" at the top of her lungs at 1am, it's the bunch of blokes on the top floor that chuck their cigarrette butts and the occasional broken glass off their balcony onto the grass in front of my veranda, or the troupe of drunken fools that howl at the moon from the other side of the complex.

Yes, I am grumpy today. Why? Let's think... "It's all coming back, all coming back to me now..." Celine was at it again this morning. No sleep equals very grumpy journo. Hmmm... This is a good time to call the estate agents, while I'm feeling murderous. Or maybe I'll just go look on the Private Property website instead. Yes... that sounds like a plan, batman.

Question

Why are people so scathing about life blogs?

Really. I have read so many articles and blog posts recently about how boring, pointless and altogether horrible blogs about the life and times of ordinary people like yours truly are. And I have read just as many guilty posts by life bloggers apologising for the fact that they blog about themselves and what's going on in their world instead of politics, art or some other dry nonsense.

I like life blogs. Seeing I write one, you probably knew that. But there are loads of other people who like life blogs. Why? Perhaps it's because we're voyeurs who enjoy a glimpse into someone else's life. Perhaps it's because it's nice to know that other people deal with similar issues to the ones we're experiencing. Maybe it's just fun to meet new friends around the world.

To the people who dislike life blogs, I say DON'T READ THEM. It's that simple. I don't like porn blogs. Do I write rude comments and protracted articles about how pathetic they are? No. I just avoid them.

There are too many people out there who feel like they have to convince the rest of the world that their opinion is the right one. Drives me mental. More mental.

I didn't start my blog to influence world history. I started my blog because I like writing, and these days blogging is easier than journalling (I can't tell you how many journals I've lost, had stolen, spilt coffee on etc). Then people started commenting on my posts, and I discovered a whole new side to blogging - interactivity with people I would never meet otherwise. And I love it.

So I will keep writing self-involved posts like this one, and I will keep posting emails that amuse me, and LOLcats, and committing every other supposed cardinal sin of blogging. MwahahahaHAHAHA! There's nothing you can do to stop me!

Anyone care to join me?

Right. Vent officially over. Moving along...

Winning stuff is cool. Especially MONEY!

How's that for an obvious statement?

Well, it's true at least. The relevance? Well, I forgot to blog about it last week, but I won some money by entering a movie competition. Basically, all you had to do was text a message to the competition line with your movie ticket number and the cinema complex name in it

And I did so, and won R2 500 (about $325 US, I think). That was awesome. But when the woman first called to tell me I'd won, she sounded like a telemarketer. Have I ever mentioned that the only thing that irritates me more than estate agents is telemarketers?

The conversation went as follows:

Her: Good day, maam. Do you have a couple of minutes to chat to me?

Me: (Frantically working on an MC script for an event that evening, surrounded by frantic eventing folks) Ummm... It depends what it's about.

H: I'm calling from , and...
M: I'm sorry, this is actually not a good time for me, so if you're trying to sell me something..

H: No, maam, I'm calling about...

M: (Getting snappy now) Listen, I can't talk, here's my husband, k?...

So TSC chatted to this woman. And when he put the phone down, he says to me, you do know you were just rude to the marketing director of .

Oops. Anyway, we sent her a copy of my ID and stuff, and they said the cheque would arrive around 15 Aug at the local cinema complex, and they'd call us. So 18 Aug, we call them and ask if it's arrived, seeing we haven't heard from them. Yes, yes... we can pick it up anytime.

Hah! When I arrive on 20 Aug (yes, my birthday!), to pick it up, they've misplaced it. ?!?!?! So I purse my lips and do my unimpressed dance (not really), and they tell me it's at another cinema complex. So I drive there, in a foul mood, sign for my cheque, and jump back in my car, where I open the envelope, and see that it's actually for R5 000, not R2 500 (so it's about $650)!

The coolest of birthday presents, no?

Friday in the smelly office

Brrr... It is cold in my office. And stinky. TGIF, I guess, seeing I can go home a little early. And... I'M NOT SEEING ANY ESTATE AGENTS TODAY!

This is indeed a reason to celebrate. I don't have to be dragged through houses that are a) way out of my price range; b) hell holes fit only for complete destruction; c) so far away from the area we're looking in that we'd need to commute by plane.

I don't get it - how does "3 bedroom, 2 bathroom, with double garage" get translated in an agent's brain to "1 bedroom, 1 bathroom, 1 parking"?!

And thank goodness TSC is in construction, because those agents will tell you anything to get you to buy. "That little crack there," they croon sweetly, pretending not to notice the rift as wide as my finger reaching from floor to ceiling. "That's nothing. A coat of paint will do the job."

Uh huh. That's about as likely as a band-aid fixing an artery that's been sliced open, dude.


Forgive me if any of you are estate agents. Maybe you're a nice person. The mess of morons (yes, that is the collective noun for morons according to the Doodles-dictionary) that I have met over the past month or so, however, has not left me much faith in your species.

Anyway... In other news (and I promise I will get over the subject soon), my birthday was great. Thanks for all the well wishes. If it wasn't for the damp carpet under my desk, I'm sure I've have felt all warm and fuzzy.

I was spoilt rotten (just like the carpet, which is spolit and rotten) and have lovely loot, including new oil paints and a beeeeg canvas, baking goodies, summer AND winter slippers (note to self: only hint for a specific present to one person); perfume and ANOTHER stick blender (note to self: clarify present hints with deaf grandparents. Electric beater and stick blender obviously sound similar. Or something).

Dinner was fab. If you're ever in Pretoria, visit Nuvo Cuisine. The best chocolate brownies I have ever had! Yum.

Right, I'm now over the birthday thing. For this year. And, to conclude this long-winded Friday post, and for the sake of tradition, here's a funny (or not so funny) for you:

Birthday post

The cake is a lie. Well, no. Not really. The cake is on my desk, so sorry for you if you're not in my office today. Sending you a virtual slice!

Floods and such

Joburg's weather has been miserable for the last three days. We all thought summer was on its way in and then this cold front arrived.

To make matters worse, I arrived in the office yesterday morning to find it wet. Very wet. Why? Because the twits in the office next to ours (one of only two offices on the floor to have a kitchen INSIDE their office - the rest of us all share one outside) put the plug in their sink and left the water running for THE WHOLE WEEKEND. Morons.

Of our six rooms, three are soaked. The storeroom was hit worst. And, of course, it's the worst room that could get wet. We've lost some packaging (very expensive to print), but the stock is fine. We've managed to save most of our job bags, and our server miraculaously kept going, despite sitting in two inches of water for two days.

Today is cold, though, and we have to keep the windows open to get rid of the damp-carpet stench that pervades every corner of the office. Blegh!

But... tomorrow is my birthday. Yes, that is a loud and clear statement to be translated as, "Please stop by and say 'Happy' tomorrow, k?"

Oupie and Lilly are up from the coast, so I'll get to see them and the immediate family (very appropriately named, seeing they want everything to happen immediately) for supper.

I've baked two yummy cakes - one for life group this evening and one for the office tomorrow. A coffee sponge cake with butter cream icing, and a marshmallow-frosted devil's food cake. Mmmm... I'm very impressed with myself ;-)

I've tagged the recipe for the marshmallow frosting on at the end, seeing Angel dumped on me for not adding it the last time I mentioned it.

The birthday event on 31 Aug is now a picnic outing (we have realised that you aren't allowed to braai at the dam). I'd love you all to come. Also, please everyone tell Ruby that she MUST come, seeing she's debating it.

Right... I'm off to freeze my butt off (actually, that would be quite useful) in my sopping office. Should be fun.

Marshmallow frosting:
Ingredients:

• 15 ml golden syrup
• 65ml water
• 100g castor sugar
• 2 egg whites

Heat the water, syrup and sugar on the stove. Bring to the boil and allow to boil until it reaches hard-boil stage (if you don't have a candy thermometer, drop a little into cold water to test). In the meantime, beat the egg whites until they form stiff, white peaks. Once the syrup mixture is ready, remove from the heat, and pour into the eggs in a thin, continuous stream while beating. Beat for a further 8 to 10 minutes. Pipe onto cupcakes or cake and decorate with sprinkles or glitter.

Blogging milestone

Woohoo! Today is my 100th post. It feels like it's been a long time coming, but I'm pleased to tick off a blogging achievement.

It's hard to believe that a year ago i didn't have a clue what a blog was about. Reading blogs and posting myself has become such a big part of my life.

So thank you to everyone who reads my blog. For putting up with periods of silence, random nonsense posts, rants and tirades and lots of navel gazing... THANKS!

I'd probably still blog if none of you commented, but it would not be nearly as satisfying. In other words, your comments are appreciated, so stick around!

Sending lots of mwahs into the blogosphere!

And have a FAB weekend.

Joke for you

A demure young lady getting ready to board a flight from Ireland asks the priest standing beside her in the queue: "Father, may I ask a favour?"
"Of course, child. What may I do for you?" he says kindly.
"Well, I bought an expensive woman's electronic hair dryer for my mother's birthday that is unopened and well over the customs limits, and I'm afraid they'll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through customs for me? Under your robes perhaps?" she asks.
"I would love to help you, my dear, but I must warn you: I will not lie," he says firmly.
"With your honest face, Father, no-one will question you," she replies.
When they get to customs, she stands aside and lets the priest go ahead of her. The official asks: "Father, do you have anything to declare?"
"From the top of my head down to my waist, I have nothing to declare," says the priest.
The official finds this answer rather strange, so he asks: "And what do you have to declare from your waist to the floor?"
"I have a marvellous instrument designed to be used on a woman, but which is, to date, unused."
Roaring with laughter, the official says: "Go ahead, Father. Next!"

Systems

My posts are becoming more regular again, and it's not because I have less work. Nope, it's because I'm finally managing to put systems in place for myself. Filing systems, and office routine, and an understanding of which tasks are urgent and which are not.

For someone who's apparently a right-brained, creative, messy and ditzy chick, I have a deep appreciation of systems. Not that you'd guess that if you saw my house. Unlike my boss and my uncle (not the one with the Muslim boyfriend), I do not colour coordinate my socks or arrange my CDs alphabetically (I have given up on the latter, seeing TSC insists on leaving CDs scattered around the house after use), and my cupboard is a total disaster zone (I have also given up on this, seeing I have no cupboard space and it's my cats' favourite place to play). The spare bedroom (what a misnomer!) is completely filled with beads, scrapbooking stuff, mosaicing equipment, my drum kit and sewing machine, and various other clutter. There's no room to get through the door, let alone fit a spare bed.

But, at work, I am Little Ms Anal. I colour coordinate my to do list items according to urgency, I make endless lists, and I separate all emails into neat sub-folders. I need things on my desk to be set at right angles, and I cannot work when there's a pile of random stuff in front of me - it needs to be sorted out and packed away first.

If any of my colleagues are reading this (de-lurk now if you are!), they probably don't believe a word. But that's because they aint seen nothing yet. Now that I am settled in, the sytems will begin. And by golly, if you mess with the system, you invoke the inner banshee in me.

I am, as Boss Chick puts it, a segmented person. The voices in my head verify this. What about you? Do you split your self into different roles? Have those roles grown into their own, fully-developed and entirely opposite personalities? Or am I alone in my multiple personality disorder?

In other news, we have decided to do something simple for the combined birthday event. So we're having a "the-day-before-the-first-day-of-spring" bring and braai on 31 August. Mail me at doodlesofajourno.gmail.com if you would like details. Would love to see y'all!

Postscript: What is up with Blogger?!? It's driving me mental - I publish my post and it doesn't show on my page. And If I type in my address in a new window, the latest post it shows is from last week. Argh!!! When you can see this (if ever), please let me know if you have any clue what's going on.

House hunting hell

Good grief! If there's one thing I don't want to do on a Sunday is drive around looking at show houses. But that's what we did for five hours yesterday.

Maybe if I hadn't spend the majority of my Sundays as a child being dragged through other people's houses by my parents (who, for some inexplicable reason think it's actually fun), I might not hate it to quite the extent that I do.

At least we had company. R and A, our best "couple friends"* in Joburg, are also considering buying a house. But A is currently away visiting her mother in KwaZulu-Natal, so R is on his lonely ownsome. He thought it would be fun to tag along with us to house shop. Hah! How wrong can a man be?!

TSC and I are impossible - he's from the construction industry so he's uber-pedantic about structural issues and waterproofing problems, and I am just pedantic for no good reason. So we make our way around the properties like two secretary birds, with our hands clasped behind our backs, picking out faults.

"It needs to be repainted."
"Yes, and WHAT is this supposed to be? A design feature? Phah!"
"The rooms are small."
"And there's no cupboard space."
"The carpets need to be replaced."
"Immediately!"
"Hmmm... what would make anyone paint a room with mustard stripes?"
"Colour blindness, perhaps?"

The estate agents, with their large stick-on smiles follow us around, getting more and more neurotic by the minute, spinning lies at a rate of knots ("The huge, littered open field next the house is not a security risk... it just means you won't have to put up with noisy neighbours"). And R, poor man, probably had a massive migraine after the 15th house had been picked apart by the two house-busters.

But, being the resident creative genius, I decided that once 5pm had passed and the estate agents had packed their smiles away (with their "On show" boards), a drink was in order. and so we happened upon the ever-so-cute Cantina Tequila just off Cedar Rd. AND... It just so happened to be happy hour, so all cocktails were half price. Score!

They don't have a menu, so you just tell them what you want (a Cosmopolitan for me, a Long Island Iced Tea for TSC and a Caipirinha for R) and they make it up for you, with a bit of a twist. The slice of orange peel in my Cosmo gave it a lovely tangy taste. Mmmm... yum.

Being well-behaved, we declined the tequila that was poured straight from the bottle down the throats of eager patrons. "Next time!" shouted the waiter. Maybe.

But for now, I'd settle for a cabin in the woods where none of my freelance clients can harass me!


*Friends that both of you get along with that you see as a couple. Very rare species.

Friday funnies

FOR THOSE WHO ENJOY LANGUAGE (OR SEVERE DISTORTIONS THEREOF)
Those who jump off a bridge in Paris are in Seine
A backward poet writes inverse.
A man's home is his castle, in a manor of speaking.
Practice safe eating - always use condiments.
A man needs a mistress just to break the monogamy.
Dancing cheek-to-cheek is really a form of floor play.
Does the name Pavlov ring a bell?
Condoms should be used on every conceivable occasion.
Reading while sunbathing makes you well red.
When two egotists meet, it's an I for an I.
A bicycle can't stand on its own because it is two tired.
What's the definition of a will? (It's a dead giveaway.)
A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.
If you don't pay your exorcist, you get repossessed.
With her marriage, she got a new name and a dress.
When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.
The man who fell into an upholstery machine is fully recovered.
Local Area Network in Australia: the LAN down under.
He often broke into song because he couldn't find the key.
Every calendar's days are numbered.
A lot of money is tainted - It taint yours and it taint mine.
A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.
A midget fortune-teller who escapes from prison is a small medium at large.
Those who get too big for their breeches will be exposed in the end.
Once you've seen one shopping centre, you've seen a mall.
Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead-to-know basis.
Santa's helpers are subordinate clauses.
Acupuncture is a jab well done.

It's my party (well, it will be, I hope)

My birthday is on 20 August, and I'm stuck for a party idea. Over my (soon-to-be) 24 years on this planet, I've done pretty much everything there is to do for a birthday party, from going to the theatre to hiring a double-decker bus, murder mystery, four-elements themed, paintball, make-over / pamper party, purple party, chocolate-making class, braai, weekend away, high tea, night trip to the zoo and everything in between. Can you tell that birthdays are a big deal in my life.

I need something new for this year. BUT, I also need to find a way to cater for my friends who are students, those who have young children and people from church, work and family and that still meets my (basically nonexistent budget). In other words, I don't want to do something that will cost guests a lot of money (like going out for a big sit-down dinner), that costs me too much money, or that is only suitable for small groups. It needs to be suitable for all ages. And, to complicate matters even further, it's TSC's birthday three weeks after mine, so ideally we'd like to have a joint party that will appeal to both my loony friends and his conservative ones.

ANY IDEAS? I'm feeling very uninspired, and the best I can come up with is a madhatter's bring and share at my house, but that really doesn't grab me as hugely exciting.

Please note that all of you whom I read regularly and live in Gauteng (or will be here at the time) are invited!

12 Monkeys (well, 9, actually)

Saturday's dinner went quite well, in case any of you were wondering. We seated my homophobic father on the other end of the table to my gay uncle and his Muslim boyfriend, whom he refers to affectionately as "my mid-life crisis" (the age difference is about 20-odd years). In fact, Sammi (the boyfriend) is only a year older than I am.



My grandmother was miserable, which is a common state of being in her case. Much as I love her, she can drive me crazy. She did have a reason this time - she'd driven four and a half hours to see my uncle and he'd mixed the dates up, so they only had one evening to catch up before she had to drive back.



On this particular occasion, gran did not partake of the wine, so there was no dancing on the table with her prosthetic boob strapped to her head. She did keep trying to offer Sammi wine though, even though we explained that he's Muslim and thus doesn't drink alcohol. Everybody politely skirted the fact that, technically, homosexuality is not allowed in Islam either.



Poor Sammi was subjected to frequent barrages from our very non-submissive female family members, myself included. My mother thinks that foreigners need to spoken to loudly, in pidgin English, so she kept saying things like, "HOW YOU LIKE SOUTH AFRICA?" She sounded like a deaf non-English speaker herslef. LOL. I love my mom. She tried really hard to make conversation with Sammi while my father studiously ignored him and my uncle from the other end of the table and engaged in a heated (and oft repeated) pointless argument with my brother about car sound systems.



Any argument with my brother is futile. He just keeps on going until you give in to make him shut up. His vegan, ballroom-dancing teaching girlfriend, whose hippie father wears feathered earrings, is also not exactly my dad's cup of tea, so in between arguing with my brother, he tried to convince her of how normal we all are (hah!) and that she should come over from the dark side. His most-used phrase at family get-togethers is always, "I am the only normal one in this family!" This time, you could tell he was thinking along the lines of, "Jeepers, my loony wife and children are actually quite conventional after all."



TSC enjoyed his T-bone while the vegan girlfriend, seated next to him, went slightly green. The rest of us enjoyed some really good fish, which I'm assuming is Halaal by definition (correct me if I'm wrong).



Meanwhile, my gran regaled us with random tales of fellow small-town residents we've never met, insisting on going into great depth about each one's family history, how many pets they've lost and put down, and their full medical biographies. My uncle alternated between trying to translate into Arabic for Sammi and making rude remarks under his breath. One that stood out was when my gran was telling him about how my parents had taken her to ride an elephant while they were all on holiday, and how sore she'd been for days afterwards. Uncle's remark? "Well, at her age, she shouldn't be riding anything bareback".



Charming, right? That's my family.



I do love them to bits though. Life is never dull, that's for sure ;-)

Rocking the Daisies Tag

The tag is to blog about the Rocking The Daisies Competition so you can stand a chance to win tickets and an ipod.

Here’s how it works:
1. Blog about the competition, telling us all what you would take with you to the concert.
2. Link to RTD Competition and Digicape (the sponsors)
3. Tag your friends in the post.
4. Register here, tag your name and my name (angel) and copy your blog post onto their website.

The list:
1. TSC. A concert is no fun on your own. Besides, at my height, I may need to sit on his shoulders!
2. Comfy shoes. Self-explanatory.
3. Camera.
4. Sunglasses.
5. Loads of layers of clothing.

Not very exciting, I know. But very practical, you have to admit.

I hereby tag:
Because I Can; Ruby; Supanova; Boldly Benny and Charmskool.

Blegh

Yes, an auspicious beginning, wasn't that?

That's how I feel - blegh. I worked till midnight after my dinner guests left last night, and then crawled into bed only to spend the rest of the night rushing to the toilet to throw up. I haven't thrown up in years, so I found this quite disturbing. I don't know whether I've got a tummy bug or if it's something I ate. Hopefully not the latter - don't want to have poisoned my guests! Although hubby seems fine.

Urgh. My stomach feels like it's trying to digest itself. I'm going to finish up my most urgent work taks and then go home to bed. Hopefully I'll get to spend some time sleeping there this time.

Anyway... wish me luck for my Saturday dinner with my gay uncle, his new Muslim boyfirend, my homophobic father, my teenage brother and his vegan girlfriend, my mad granny, carnivorous husband and my semi-normal mom!