Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work we go...

Taking a leaf out of Sweets' book, here's my trip to work in the mornings. It's not very long, and not very interesting, but I had fun taking the photos...



Me dashboard at the robot (traffic light, for non-Saffers)




Coming up to the traffic.




Check out the dust streaks along my passenger window as they are caught in the morning sunshine.




My secret back road shortcut along the dirt track



Arriving at destination, taking a self-portrait in the little mirror on my visor.



So that's that. Not too exciting, I'm afraid. Not all of us drive past historical monuments every day ;-)

Winter post

Winter is well and truly here. Freezing fingers on the icy steering wheel in the mornings; putting off going to the loo because the seat is sure to freeze-burn my bottom; wearing a minimum number of three layers; craving hot comfort food; and getting up in the dark.

I'm not really a fan of winter. In fact, I'm cold-blooded, I'm sure. But I'm trying to look on the bright side, so I'm writing a list of all the things I like about the chilly season:

1. Curling up with a warm blanket, my purring cats, a cup of Milo or hot chocolate and a good book. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's paradise.
2. A plate of my home-cooked lamb curry after a long, cold day. Hubby's parents are sheep farmers, so we get lamb quite often. Noice.
3. A long hot bath with a glass of wine.
4. Snuggling on the couch watching DVDs with hubby and the cats.
5. Gluwein.
6. Not needing to shave my legs as often, seeing they don't get exposed much.
7. Getting into the bed once the electric blanket has warmed it up for me.
8. Roaring fireplaces in restaurants.
9. Hot puddings. Mmmmm....
10. The crystal-like frost formations that you find on the grass in the mornings.
11. Soft leather gloves.
12. Scarves (I must have about 30).
13. The feeling of coming into a warm room out of the crisp outdoors.
14. Putting my cold hands down hubbys neck to make hi shiver. Hehehe...
15. Knowing that after winter must come spring, bringing with it beautiful blossoms and freshness.
16. Standing in front of the braai and feeling the warm in front of me and the cold behind me.
17. Soup. Especially MY soup. I may suck at baking, but I can do soup.
18. Marshmallow socks (socks that feel soft and squishy, not socks made out of marshmallows - that would be really gross).
19. Sketching winter trees.
20. Misty breath in the chilly mornings.

What are your favourite winter things?

More funnies from my inbox

HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY? (written by kids)

(1) You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
- Alan, age 10

(2) No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.
- Kristen, age 10

WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?

(1) Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
- Camille, age 10

(2) No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
- Freddie, age 6 (very wise for his age)

HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?

(1) You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
- Derrick, age 8

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?

(1) Both don't want any more kids.
- Lori, age 8

WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?

(1) Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
- Lynnette, age 8 (isn't she a treasure)

(2) On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that Usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
- Martin, age 10 (Who said boys do not have brains)

WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?

(1) I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
- Craig, age 9

WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?

(1) When they're rich.
- Pam, age 7 (I could not have said it better myself)

(2) The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that.
- Curt, age 7 (Good Point)

(3 ) The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
- Howard, age 8 (Who made the rule?)

IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?

(1 ) I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm never going to have sex with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed out.
- Theodore, age 8 (Too much detail for his age)

(2 ) It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
- Anita, age 9 (bless you child)

HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?

(1 ) There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
- Kelvin, age 8

And the #1 Favourite is........ HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?

(1 ) Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck.
- Ricky, age 10 (The boy already understands)

Supplements

What do you guys think of nutritional supplements? I'd be keen to know. Yesterday I did an interview with a company that makes them for a profile I have to write, and I've never been keen on the things... All those muscle-building shakes and slimming products really gross me out. I reckon they can't be good for you.



But the dude I was interviewing was telling me about the all-natural weight-loss stuff they make that suppresses your appetite because of the juice of some or other cactus (or something else that wouldn't taste very nice if you ate it), and the multivitamins they produce and so on, and I found mysef thinking, 'Ooooh... I should try that.'



Then I remembered he's in marketing. Like me (for example, the profile I need to write), he gets paid to make things sound good. Hmmm... Cactus? Maybe not.

My cuz

Today is taking SO long! I'm editing horrible, boring content that seems neverending.

Somebody save me....

Now I'm going to have the damn Smallville song in my head for the rest of the day. Perfect. I guess it's better than the Fruit & Veg City jingle. Not much of a silver lining.

Here's a question I'd like help answering:
When I got married, except for my immediate family and remaining grandparents, none of my family came to the wedding - not my uncles, aunts or cousins. They all had excuses. We've never been particularly close, but that hurt a lot. Now my cousin is getting married to a dude I've never met, and I'm wondering if I should go. I like her and her dad, but I loathe the rest of the family.

I should probably go though, hey? Eish. Don't want to - it means I have to suffer through hours of boredom and them teasing my hubby (which means hours of placating him afterwards) and stretch my budget (what budget?!) to buy an expensive prezzie. Urgh.

Suggestions, anyone? I guess I could always stock up on rescue remedy and herbal tranquilizers beforehand...

Clever words

Someone emailed me this. Now whether you're a Zuma fan or not, yuo have to admit that this is clever:

Trevor the farmer was in the fertilised egg business. He had several hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets' and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilise the eggs. The farmer kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into the soup pot and was replaced.

That took an awful lot of his time so he bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone so Trevor could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells.

The farmer's favourite rooster was old Jacob, and a very fine specimen he was too. But on this particular morning Trevor noticed old Jacob's bell hadn't rung at all! Trevor went to investigate. The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover. But to farmer Trevor's amazement, Jacob had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one.

Trevor was so proud of Jacob, he entered him in the Polokwane Country Fair and Jacob became an overnight sensation among the judges. The result was the judges not only awarded Jacob the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.

Clearly Jacob was a politician in the making: Who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention.

Do you know a Politician called Jacob?

Batty BAT

We hear a lot of weird and wonderful things in our office and deal with a variety of people (mainly morons or all shapes and sizes), but yesterday's overheard conversation between my colleague and the receptionist at British American Tobacco (BAT) takes the cake...

This is what I heard:

L: 'Hi, my name is L____ and I'd just like to know whether your offices are in Cape Town or Johannesburg.
*pause*
What? Yes, I'm over 18.
*pause*
No, I don't smoke.
*pause*
No, I just want to know whether your offices are in Cape Town or Jo'burg.
*pause*
Ok, let me explain: I'm a journalist from ______ and I've been commissioned to write a profile on BAT for the book ______, but I am based in Jo'burg, so if your offices are in Cape Town I will need to pass it on to another journalist. So, as I said, *adopts I'm-talking-to-a-five-year-old tone* all I need to know is: are your offices in Cape Town or in Johannesburg?
*pause; laughs hysterically.*
Ok, ok, FINE!
*Slams down the phone and bangs head repeatedly on the desk* (To me:) She's not allowed to communicate with me at all, because I'm not a smoker!

How's that for strange? I figure she should've bought a pack, smoked one and called back, saying, "All that has changed now... So can you communicate with me?"

My job is a joke. Once again, free therapy for all journos!

I thought I was past that!

I try not to blog too much about me and my insignificant little issues too often, but forgive me while I think out loud here...

I know most of you are going to laugh at me for this, but I really thought I was past making those big life choices. At 23! I know. I am laughing too.



But seriously, I chose what to study, I made the leap and got married, I moved to Jhb for the job, and thought that I had everything sorted. But then, life intervenes, and everything gets turned on its head.



Hubby resigned this morning. We thought it through and have decided that this is the best way forward, but it's still hectic. See, my parents, being the uber-cool and ultra-generous (although sometimes anal) people that they are, recognised that he's never had the opportunity to study. So they said they would give us part of our inheritance now so that he can better himself and move up in the world. Their logic is that they'd like to see us put the money to good use and not wait until they die (horrid thought), when we may not need the money anyway.



I think that's really awesome of them. On the other hand, it's a BIG step for hubby to give up his role of provider (which he takes very seriously) and depend on my folks. It's also a scary thing for me to suddenly be the main breadwinner in the family. Plus, I have to admit that I miss studying and will be a bit jealous. *Sigh*



It also makes life very difficult to predict - what if we decide to have kids in the next two years? Unlikely, but hey, anything's possible. Or so they say. It also means that I need to stay put in my job to keep the money coming in. Hmmm.



I guess my fear is just about being trapped - not being able to make the decisions that will affect my life. Then again, we've survived a lot together - an eating disorder, depression, me studying, him losing his job, moving house three times, moving to a new province, and countless other mini-crises. We'll be fine. I know that. I just wish I could FEEL that.



Sorry, I promise to be more upbeat in my next post. Here's a funny for those of you that were expecting a smile.

Funnies from my inbox...

I know most of you have probably seen these, but I just LOVE LOLcats. If you don't know what that is, click here.

And below, two memes in one - LOLcat and FAIL. Shame, poor kitty.


How cute is his mustache?


Mwahahaha... die, evil rat dog.


My desktop for many months.


My wish for the day.


Have a happy Friday, people.

The jukebox in my head

Do you have certain default tracks that you get stuck in your head on a regular basis? I do. My usual soundtrack is a weird mixture of My Fair Lady, various Disney songs, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Karen Zoid's annoyingly catchy Aeroplane Jane and lots of irritating ad jingles.

No wonder I'm nuts!

An average hour in my brain sounds something like this...

All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air... Look for the bear necessities, the simple bear necessities; forget about your worries and your strife... Hot patootie, bless my soul, I really love your rock 'n roll... Aeroplane Jane, Aeroplane Jane, Aeroplane Jane's gone insane... Fruit and Veg City your fresher food store.

I reiterate... free therapy for journos!

For more random facts about this insane author... Read my 100 things list.

Conversation with a Little Girl

A stranger was seated next to a little girl on the airplane. He turned to her and said, 'Let's talk. I've heard that flights go quicker if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger.' The little girl, who had just opened her book, closed it slowly and said to the stranger, 'What would you like to talk about?'
'Oh, I don't know,' said the stranger. 'How about nuclear power?' and he smiles.
'OK, ' she said. 'That could be an interesting topic. But let me ask you a question first. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff - grass. Yet a deer excretes little pellets, while a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse produces clumps of dried grass. Why do you suppose that is?'
The stranger, visibly surprised by the little girl's intelligence, thinks about it and says, 'Hmmm, I have no idea.'
To which the little girl replies, 'Do you really feel qualified to discuss nuclear power when you don't know sh*t?'

*sigh* five-day work week ahead

After a two-day work week last week (with 3 public holidays, for those who don't live in SA), this five-day one that lies agead seems very long. Especially seeing I have gross phlegmy, achy and generally disgusting flu and have spent the past three days in bed.



What a waste of a long weekend! But at least my bed and I bonded. We spent some quality time together. Usually we don't get enough time alone, what with hubby and two hyperactive cats encroaching on our space. Seeing I'm still coughing up little bits of my lungs (well, that's what it feels like, anyway), I may just return to that dear bed and take my laptop to work from there. Hmmm... That sounds like a good idea.






I leave you with this... an oldie, but a favourite. Take good care of your cats if you live near an Asian take-away joint, people.

Back from the bush and ready to (not) work

*Sigh* I had a lovely weekend away with hubby and our 'couple friends', Richard and Ania. So hard to find a couple that we both like, and it's lovely to have these guys whom we just adore. Our weekend was filled with good conversations, good wine, good food and a very hot (to the point of scalding) jacuzzi, as well as giraffes walking past our windows and warthogs chasing their chihuahuas, which they had smuggled into the resort. It was bliss.



And now I'm back at work, typing away at a deathly-dull corporate report and trying to phone sources who are all on leave for the week. *double sigh*. Sucks to all of you away on some stunning holiday for the week.



Jealousy makes me nasty.



Anyway... A pic for the day:

Eskom (again)

Yes, it is time for yet another Eskom rant. I haven't had a moan about this in awhile, and, while you may be sick of the subject, they keep providing us (and the Madam & Eve cartoonists, it seems) with more material and reasons to complain.

Our dear power utility, which can't provide enough power, despite this being its sole purpose on God's green earth, now wants to charge us more money for something they can't provide. Old news, yes. But now it appears that we Saffers have been subsidising the costs of electricity provided by Eskom to neighbouring countries for years. Get the full story here.

I dare any shrink to ask, 'How does that make you feel?'

Mxit

We have this cellphone chat application phenomenon called Mxit that has proved hugely popular among SA teengagers. Unfortunately, like the Internet, some people use in in not-so-nice ways. Teenage girls started taking porn-style photos of themselves and sending them around, and then some psycho abducted one, so parents around the country freaked out and Mxit got a bad rap. Then I got this, entitled, ANOTHER MXIT VICTIM!

I guess we cope by making a joke!

The joyful life of a journo

I have to post this series of work emails from yesterday so that you too can have a good laugh at some of the twits I come into contact with. But let me give you a bit of context first: One of the publishers I work with calls me and tells me I need to do masses of shmoozy interviews with a client of theirs to go into one of their annuals as the client is pretty much paying for half of the publication. Fine. I call the company and begin the process. It takes forever, because they are completely useless and inefficient bureacrats. Eventually I get the info and send it to the publisher. Months pass. Then this...

Hello Tamara

Hope you are well. I was amazed to be informed that the _____ publication has since been issued. I was expecting that as contributors at least we would be informed and get some complementary copies for internal use and showcase. Since this correspondence I have not heard form you. We were not advised how to access this magazine. Outsiders are calling some of our employees featuring on the magazine informing them that they saw them on it. When our own employees informed me and asked as to why there is no copy for ______ I got embarrassed. When employees were asked to participate I indicated to them that they will be the first ones to know about the magazines and perhaps even get them some copies

The bottom line is I am very disappointed with how things turned out after such hard work from myself when you were sitting on my back to deliver your content. Will you please make complementary copies available to us and also advise where and how this magazine can be accessed.

Regards,

Useless Twit*

Completely out of the blue! I mean, I assumed seeing they were star clients the publishers would send them some mags. Also, I'm a freelance journo - I have absolutely nothing to do with distribution. So I forward the message to the publisher, asking how I should respond. He says he'll deal with it and that they've been sent 1 000 copies. Then I get CC-ed into a mail from the above twit's superior...

Dear Useless Twit*,

I was informed yesterday afternoon that there are 30 boxes of the publication at receiving. Simple Moron* will deliver them to you.

Regards,
Superior Twit*

30 BOXES!!! I ask you - is it my fault if they don't talk to each other? I reiterate my previous theory: all journos should be afforded free (and compulsory) therapy.


*names have been changed to avoid lawsuits

A post for Bridget

In response to B calling me a lazy journo in my comments section, I am putting up a new post. I had already planned to do this, for those of you who may believe I am under her evil control, but had a 9am meeting and have been frantically trying to get through all my emails and meet deadlines in between.

Excuses, excuses, I hear you cry. Ok, fine! I am under her evil spell and will soon be found dancing like a white man. This would probably be an improvement on my current dancing abilities, which are strangely like a duck on drugs, waddling back and forwards flapping its wings aimlessly and losing the beat.

Coming soon to a street near you, I will also be removing 'for sale' signs and transplanting them to houses that look deserving enough.

I will not, however, be visiting Gold Reef city with pickles or pub-crawling with trolls.*

If anyone knows of a cure for this kind of behaviour... Stick it, coz it sounds like I'm gonna be having me some fun :)

*Sorry, B. Not even your influence can get me past my scared-witless-of-having-kids-ness or induce me to hang out with hubby's less hygienic mates.

Extremely random question

Who decided we should eat lettuce? I mean, I have nothing against it. It doesn't taste bad. In fact, it doesn't really taste. But who decided it should be on the menu? Did some ancestor way back take a stroll through the garden and think, "Wow, here's a weird kind of ball-shaped plant. Isn't that strange? Let us eat it. I'll call it... let us. Yes, what a good idea!"

It probably wasn't the same ancestor that said, "Ooh... here's a plant with pretty flowers and waxy leaves. Oh, Leander, don't you think we should eat it?"

Sparkly stones from lifeless bones

Here's a weird thought... what if you could turn the ashes of your departed loved one into a beautiful diamond to treasure forever?

Well, now you can! Yes, strange and macabre though it may be, the Americans (who else?) have come up with a process that allows the carbon to be extracted from the ashes of your cremated pooch or great aunt to be made into a sparkly roack - your choice of colour and size. And now, ladies and gentlemen, the technology is available in SA! Don't believe me? Visit www.lifegem.com and you'll see what I'm on about!

I discovered this through a friend at my cell group that runs a pet crematorium. He has now brought this technology into the country and they've already transformed some lady's dead dog into a pretty piece of jewellery. Charmed, I'm sure. Anyway... trying to convince one of my editors to let me write a story on this. She's (understandably) worried that it may just gross people out.

What do you think? Could you wear your dear departed husband/granny/cat around your neck or on your finger forevermore? I reckon this is taking the whole reduce, reuse, recycle thing a little too far!

Is your security guard named Albert?

I have come across an interesting phenomenon (interesting to me, that is). First, context, for those of you who do not live in Gauteng, South Africa:

Gauteng is known for its crime - pretty much anyone who lives here has either experienced a violent crime personally or knows somebody who has. As such, many of us live in so-called 'security complexes', which are basically made up of a bunch of apartments surrounded by a high wall (usually with electric fencing on top), with a guarded gate at the front and 24-hour patrolling security. This is considered perfectly normal.

I live in one such complex in northern Johannesburg - one of the many typical try-hard Tuscan wannabees with an exotic name that populates the Jo'burg landscape. Up until recently, we had a set of very dopey guards at the place. One of them was named Albert. I found this quite a coincidence, as the beautiful security estate where my parents live* in Pretoria also employs a guard named Albert. Both are friendly and like to chat at the gate as residents go in and out and both are considered the spokesperson by the rest of the security chaps.

A few weeks back, our dopey guards were replaced with a bunch of much smarter-looking uniforms from a different company. Upon introducing myself to the leader of the pack, I discovered that he too is named Albert! Weird, right?

Then, the other day, I visited a friend in her security complex. Guess what? Yes... you have picked up on the pattern - the head guard who met me at the gate was wearing a name badge that read: ALBERT.

I figured there might be something in the name, so I googled it. According to trusty Wikipedia, it means 'noble-bright' - a perfect description of what you'd want in a security guard.

Is it some sort of noble conspiracy - to place an Albert at every complex to serve and protect? Probably not, but you've got to admit that it's still weird that there are so many of them.

Are you an Albert? If so, are you a security guard? Or do you know of one called Abert? I'd love to know.



*a security estate is much the same as a security complex, except usually bigger and with houses and gardens instead of apartments.