Thank GOODNESS it's Friday!

I'm more thankful that it's Friday today than I have ever been in my whole entire life. I would've given up my car, my home, my hair, my fingernails... anything since Tuesday for it to have been Friday. I tried to watch Disney movies (and sung along to Ariel's 'Part of that World'), I went for drinks, I went to dancing, I got my hair done. Nothing made Friday come quicker. Nothing made the time go faster. You know those painful, neverending, torturous weeks where everything has gone wrong... Everything. Well times that by 80 thousand million gazillion and you're right on target. 

It's friday... IT'S FRIDAY! Thank the Arch Bishop and the Pope and the Rabbi that it's Friday. I actually want to send God a bottle of wine or a quiche or a barbershop quartet to thank him for bringing Friday at last. 

Now I'm just counting down the hours so I can go home and open up cold Hunters Dry and then join my amazing, amazing friends for some deliciousness of chilli poppers and many more Hunters Dry at Neighbourhood on Long Street. I will be watching England play Sri Lanka tomorrow and the Stormers play Force in the evening but that is the extent of my weekend's activities. After contemplating the 2OceansVibe party I decided against forking out200 bucks to stand around on the beach and still have to pay a fortune for drinks and food. Not much of an odyssey of a weekend then, but I just need a timeout. I also need a freezocino. Catch me at Caturra.

Long weekend!

It's fabulous Friday! After a shaky start this morning (dinner at the amazing, quaint little Italian Il Leone, accompanied by a bottle of bubbly of course), my freezo sorted out any sign of a hangover and I arrived at work ready to take on the day. Until I glanced at the clock on my screen and realised it was only 9:30 – I feel like I've been here for at least three hours already and was starting to look forward to lunch! Not ideal. I'm thanking my lucky stars that after all the pleading, persuasion and drop-lip I pulled last night after dinner, lovely boyfriend still didn't give in to taking me for a 'quick dance and a drink' somewhere. I was almost pathetically desperate to hit the town – must've been a combination of the heels, the veal, the champagne and the 8th of Italian in me. But I wouldn't have felt too sparkly this morning. But I think it was because I'm heading home tonight (Jo'burg) and I know it's going to be a rather family-orientated weekend, whereas lovely boyfriend is going to be back here with all his best school mates (who are down for the long weekend) painting the town all sorts of colours without his handbreak (that would be me) tagging along. Oh well, if all else fails I shall find somewhere cool to go for the rugby tomorrow night (with my father since he is the only one in my family who cares about rugby in my family) so I can have my routine Hunters Dry wand watch the Stormers annihilate the Bulls – this will have to qualify as my fair share of 'fun' for the weekend.

I had good news this week: I am finally allowed to do what I absolutely love and that is writing restaurant reviews for my magazine's blog. (This means free beverages! Oh.. and meals, of course.) I might also do bar and hotel reviews, and some show reviews considering I have pretty much taken up residence at Artscape since I moved to Cape Town. I also do online book reviews (alert the media!). I would love to post the link for you (of my recent restaurant review) but maybe I shouldn't associate my gorgeous glossy women's fashion and beauty mag with a Champagne-downing, rib-scoffing frequently-hungover rugger bugger with a lifelong dream of being on the stage or in front of a camera. The other day I had to look up what a gilet was. And I don't even use an exfoliator.

Been the insatiable dancing diva I am, I flung myself, far too overenthusiastically, straight into modern dance on Tuesday (having not done it since last year November) and attemped to push myself into the splits after two hours of intense exam work. I am so stiff, even three days later, that I can barely sit down or stand up elt alone walk, and had to ring my flatmate this morning to ask her to pull me out of bed. And dress me...

 This does not bode well for me since I'm signed up for an advanced contemporary class tomorrow morning. Could be interesting.

Have a great weekend. Joburg awaits me. Oh and - ENGLAND WON THE CRICKET!

Yay yay it's CONCERT day!

It's concert day. Woopppeeeeeeee. Yipppekayay! Wooohaaaaa. Yeeehhhaaaaaaa. Zippadeedooodaaaa.

Concert day is clearly good as it means that this Olive gets to make a premature office departure so as to get home before every road, alleyway and highway in Cape Town officially shuts down, and every fan and his dog make their way to Cape Town stadium. 

  (Let me hear a 'Oooooo' ... 'Aaaaaaah')

The unfortunate part is that this guy:

 ...has very kindly decided to stay with us today, tonight.... and the whole weekend!! After arriving at my dinner late last night having almost lost a car door, been blown into a road sign, and flashed my knickers at the car guard (not out of choice), I walked into Blonde restaurant with what was carefully GHD-styled hair, but now a slovenly bird's nest of wiry knots, and bits of paper and sand from the street. If this is going to happen tonight, I am walking to the concert in a disposable windbreaker. Or a hat. A hat's probably more stylish. I don't think they'd let me in, in a windbreaker AND a moonbag: 'Eish, sorry M'am... Wrong concert... Roxette is only on in May?'

Anyway, I was at work at the crack of dawn today. I'm REALLY not a morning person so it didn't suprise me when I was half way to work and I realised I'd walked out the house without any shoes on, and promptly had to turn around and drive home, only to find that I'd left the shower running and the front door unlocked. Needless to say I won't be waking up this early. Ever again.

This guy seems to have as much work as me and must've also gone through 2 bottles of Graham Beck at dinner last night.  

The Cricket World Cup and the Super 15 Rugby have started. This means that if I want to see my boyfriend at all over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to have to accept and welcome the TV as a 3rd wheel in the relationship. Actually, more like I'll be a 3rd wheel to him and TV.