Run down and out

Just know this before I start – I spent the first half of my morning writing this blog post. As I pressed 'send' the whole retarded page disappeared and I was left with a blank page and a bad mood. 

Round 2:

Ok first things first. I'm the new advanced tapper on the blog (get it? On the block/on the blog), what with my three whopping distinctions for my tap exams!

Now that I've got the gloating out the way I'll tell you about my weekend. I must apologise for the lack of post last week. But I looked a little something like this, bar the violet-coloured face:

I had tap syllabus coming out my ears, and was editing the sh*t out of the magazine to meet deadline. Rehearsing 3 hours a night after a full day's work is one way to run you down. And yes, I'm now sick, in case you were asking. But I think I can attribute that to this past weekend's ungovernable antics.

The weekend was off to a bad start. I skipped with elation out my tap exams only to find that some complete moronic airhead had rammed into my car then buggered off without a note. This left me reeling ferociously to say the least and I gulped down my bubbly rather aggressively at dinner. One glass lead to a bottle at the revolting Decodance, where I realised the following 3 things: I hate 80s music, I hate the club and I hate the person who hit my car. Whatever remains of good mood I had vanished with the last sip of Champagne and I promptly departed with my ex-flatmate.

Saturday morning: pounding headache. Bad headache had to accompany me to Kirstenhof Police Station to get a case number for my car. Aggravated by the excursion, bad headache escalated into severe migraine. Only after 2 Energades, 2 myprodol and an hour's nap did it decide to take leave and allow me to make the necessary preparations (Operation 'Erase any signs of hangover') for the wedding I had to attend that afternoon.

Arrived at wedding not wearing the appropriate attire to fend of Cape Town's glacial winds and slowly turned a brilliant shade of royal blue as I sat through the ceremony. Finally got feeling back in toes and feet on arrival at the Mount Nelson for the reception, thanks to a shot glass of warm sweet sherry and I proceeded to stuff my face with tempura prawns. Think waiter thought he was being stalked since I trailed him and his tray of delicacies around the room for a good hour until Lovely Boyfriend said I was scaring the guests.

Bubbly kept me going through speeches and a good deal of twists and turns to my good ol' faves: Nat King Cole, Frankie S and Glen Miller. I returned to the table to find that no one had eaten their desserts. Three creme brulees later I told Lovely Boyfriend that I had to get home immediately or I was going to curl up in the bride's train (which looked remarkably like my duck-down duvet) and klap a snooze. 

So now I'm sick. I think it was the attempt at a gym session then running home in the rain that was the final straw for my poor body. So I'm taking a week off from any social activities. This excludes freezocino outings.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

I'm going to a wedding on Saturday at The Mount Nelson. Bril venue, free booze and food. Fabulous. Yet said wedding is causing minor stress for a number of reasons:

1. I was supposed to perform a tap dance in a charity show for a troop of grannies on Saturday afternoon. I've now let down the elderly. That could be my something old.

2. It's the afternoon after my tap exams finish. I was planning a large one on Friday to drown my tapping sorrows. But being hungover at a wedding means I won't enjoy the complimentary Champagne. And we couldn't have that now, could we?! (Must cancel Friday's huge table, margerita jugs and salsa dancing at Buena Vista.)

3. I won't know anyone. Will be sitting on my own knocking back free bubbly in the face of strangers. Basically, I'm the something new...

4. Lovely Boyfriend knows everyone. Enough said.

5. It's winter. What the hell do you wear to winter weddings in order to stay warm but still look reasonably stin vogue? A chunky knit over a chic dress? I think not. Will have to wear something borrowed!

6. Need to buy yet another box of Essentiale. I have now included this in my monthly budget.

7. I won't know anyone. Did I say that already?

8. It's cold (I know. But it is!). I guess I could be the something blue?

Car Wash

Yesterday I did the impossible. I took my car into be cleaned. 

Stop traffic.

Put it this way: I've owned my little vehicle for about 2 years. In this time I have cleaned it once. Suffice it to say that there was year-and-a-half-old bird faeces ingrained in the paint. In fact one of the droppings of turd was so enormous (its splatterings covering a good 25cm of my roof) I'm convinced a large albatross dropped his runny load on my baby. A thick layer of grime suffocated my mirrors. And don't get me started on the inside. Old freezocino takeaway cups squashed under the seats, rusk crumbs, socks (THAT'S where they all went!!), and only God knows what else. As the guy at Hannibal's handed back my keys I shrunk beneath his resentful grimace for putting his personal health as serious risk thanks to the unsanitary dump that was my car.

Now am driving the cleanest, sterile, shiniest, gleaming, newest-looking little Yaris in Cape Town. And for the first time in months I can actually use my wing mirrors! I think this calls for celebration. Champagne anyone?

The boat that rocked

Am back on dry land. And a dry diet. No more G and 'Tea' time at 4pm. Rose with every meal. Rose without every meal... 

Since I returned home the ground has been rocking rhythmically back and forth and I am feeling  inordinately seasick, even though I managed to avoid this occurrence for the whole week on the actual yacht itself. And am suffering from a mild case of post-holiday depression, but my new wardrobe from London and my now glowing bronze hue from the Turkish rays are helping to keep me upbeat and satisfyingly enthusiastic!

This is just a quick note to let you know I'm back... A longer post should follow this week. First I need to sleep off the 21 hours of travel and get over the constant cravings for a Turkish banquet every 4 hours. Safe to say I gobble-gobbled up more food in a week that I'd usually eat in a year, and if anything have left the country resembling the Christmas bird itself. With stuffing.

I have missed my bubbly so much (you need to take out a small loan to purchase a bottle in the land of Turks and, even then, it's rather vile) that I have decided to los a good night's sleep and grab a good bottle with friends (and don my new threads in style while showing off my tan). Enjoy the public holiday. I'll vote if I wake up before sunset...

I'm leeeeeeaving, on an Emirates jet plane!

... Don't know if I'll be back again. EVER. I might just never. I'll spend my days lazing on the Naviga (that's the name of the yacht in Turkey), eating fish and drinking imported Champagne (they don't have any on the boat. This is going to be a big problem for me but have arranged for Lovely Boyfriend to sneak some bouteilles over in his small manly suitcase!). Or I might just not make it to Turkey on Saturday having gotten lost in Top Shop on Friday and become one with the rails. Anyway am extremely excited, the only problem is I tend to get unecessarily stressed before going on holiday and end up writing interminable lists with everything I need to do, say, see, touch, breathe, hear, find, lose, think about (you get the idea) before I leave. This could include anything from painting my toenails and sweeping my bedroom, to changing money, charging my camera and making sure I have enough cash for a Starbucks Java Chip Coffee Frappucino in Dubai!

If I manage to put this post up I'll be shocked since the interweb at work has been retardedly temperamental today, meaning I've achieved a total of nothing when I could've been racing around getting things ticked off my list! Anyway my long weekend went something like this. It's a little blurry. Evidently my plan for a healthy-filled break with water, vegetables and exercise didn't go according to plan.

Royal Wedding: took the day off work, dressed up to the nines and sat in a large room filled with prim and proper grannies wearing bold hats and extravagant fascinators. What fascinated Lovely Boyfriend's sister and myself more were the bottomless flutes of bubbly and the large Victorian tea stand of scones piled brilliantly high with fresh cream. We proceeded to sing along to all the hymns, waving our English flags and ogling Prince Harry while the golden oldies looked on distastefully. 

On Saturday I went to the rugby. WOoooooOooOOOOoooo. Go Stormers!!

On Sunday I went to Franschhoek for a little romance, a little veeno tasting, some great food and gorgeous views. Ended up not seeing any views or being able to remember what I had for dinner after a lunch long lunch at Rickety Briudge and an extended afternoon of bubbly tasting at Haute Cabriere. I definitely kept Energade in business yesterday as I bought two of each colour and drank them through the course of the day!