Bounced

So it was just after Christmas when we left Jo'burg at sparrow's for Hermanus for the big Family Holiday. Hungover from excessive amounts of Boxing Day plonk, and so fat from Christmas I would need to be shoehorned into my airplane seat, I popped down to the O R Tambo Mug&Bean to grab a freezocino, intending to meet my family in the BA Lounge. (Step Daddy is some form of Gold or Platinum Executive Club member... red carpets, upgrades etc.) I head up to the lounge, while ice cold freezo works its caffeine magic on my head, and arrive at the doors only to be turned away. 'Sorry, but your father already has two other people with him. We cannot allow anyone else in on his behalf.' Er, what? Unfortunately it was a woman, so no amount of leg or cleaveage was going to get me through. Irritable, I ring Mother.

Me: I'm stuck outside.
Mother: Yes, they won't let anyone else in. Sorry Darling.
Me: Well what should we do?
Mother: Well, we're just helping ourselves to the free buffet... Oooo, chocolate croissants, delish!... Um, so we'll meet you at the gate?.... Ooo fresh orange juice... Bye Darling!

I couldn't believe it! Family was in the lounge, making a large dent in the free buffet, reading the free paper, helping themselves to the free bar, and enjoying the cricket on a free flatscreen, while I paid for my own freezo, my own muffin, my own magazine and sat at the gate humming Christmas songs to myself for 45 minutes.

Needless to say I boarded alone and they arrived late, still laughing about something hilarious that had happened in the lounge, and covered in croissant crumbs.

Me: Where's mine?
Mother: Your what?
Me: My takeaway breakfast!?
Mother: Oh, did you want something, Darling? The food was so incredible. We ate so much.

Me: I hope you all get fat and implode.

They didn't even hear me.

I didn't say another word the whole flight, feeling angry and excluded. And on arrival I said I wanted to drive to Hermanus on my own in my car and they could all go in the hired car. My family felt so bad they took me out for lunch at Bientang when we arrived and ordered a bottle of bubbly. I have to admit – the gorgeous view, mindblowing food and serenity of the setting was enough to calm me down and help me relax in to holiday mode.

Just as I was feeling so great and had forgiven my family... I got back to my car after lunch only to find I'd left the lights on and the battery was flat.

Awesome.

Family Jolly Holiday

Mother decides it's time we did a big family holiday over Christmas (we haven't done one since 2009 when we rented a palatial villa in Turkey) with myself, my two brothers, my two sisters and Step Daddy. Since we are based all over the world, we receive a communal email and the replies slowly flood in over the course of 3 days:

Mother: 'Bonjour La Famille. I am going to organise a family holiday, from Christmas till just after New Year. Any ideas?'

Brother 1 (SA born and bred): 'PLETT!'

Brother 2 (from the UK, so any coastal town will do): 'Isn't there somewhere called Hermanus?!'

Sister 1 (loves the mountain): 'As long as it's not far from Cape Town.'

Sister 2 (getting married so doesn't care): No response.

Me (over enthusiastic): 'Mozambique!!! Or how about Mauritius? NEW YORK?'

Step Daddy: 'Who's paying?'


Mother gets back to us a week later.


Mother: 'General consensus seems to be staying in the country. Let's do Hermanus?'

Brother 1 (SA born and bred): 'Are you even allowed in without a Zimmer Frame and a colostomy bag?'

Brother 2 (from the UK, so any coastal town will do): 'Sounds good to me.'

Sister 1 (loves the mountain): 'I don't think I can get leave.'

Sister 2 (getting married so doesn't care): No response.

Me: 'It's social suicide! Can I bring a friend?'

Step Daddy: 'Who's paying?'


Another week later.


Mother: 'I've booked a house in Hermanus'

Brother 1 (SA born and bred): 'An old-age home?'

Brother 2 (from the UK, so any coastal town will do): 'Sounds good to me.'

Sister 1 (loves the mountain): 'I'll try drive through for a day.'

Sister 2 (getting married so doesn't care): No response.

Me: 'It's ok, everyone breathe, I know someone who's going...'


Step Daddy: 'Who's paying?'


All of us (to Step Daddy): 'YOU ARE!'

...

Step Daddy: 'Bring your own meals.'


My family is very difficult to please. But I guess, like all families, we're all absolutely mental and could holiday in a wendy house in Uzbekistan and we'd still have a good laugh as a family. So after Xmas am off to Hermanus. If by any God-given miracle you're going too, pop round for a braai! We're surefire entertainment. Just remember to bring your own meat...

No butts...

So I was sitting in Cubana this weekend, taking great pleasure in my Saturday early-evening view of Hermanus' astonishingly beautiful, glistening ocean and lush, green mountains, when my field of vision was grossly sullied by a man's unwieldly butt cheeks. Why is it that so many men choose the seedy Cubana as destination bachelors?! Said man was wearing a pair of disturbing leather-strapped underwear with buckle, his blushing butt cheeks uncovered and nauseatingly blotchy. Suddenly my chilli poppers lost their appeal, so I ordered another Hunters Dry and turned my focus to booze and rugby. Stormers won so it was a great start to the evening, which consisted of getting as far away from pending bachelor anarchy as possible. Bottle of rose in hand, we headed home to set up Scrabble.

Now, Scrabble for Lovely Boyfriend and myself is not just a game. It's a highly competitive, cutthroat dual. No talking, no laughing, no affection... Pure concentration and an obsessive determination to claim the Scrabble title and win Most Literate, Intelligent and Well-read Significant Other. Unfortunately on this particular night, we finished the rose before we finished the game, and I had to retire to bed since I was slurring half the words I attempted to spell. 

Back to the drawing board for me - my sleeping pill from last night doesn't seem to have quite worn off, which means I'm working at a senile pace this morning... So far I've watered the roses on my desk, eaten a bowl of muesli, written this blog post and planned a promenade walk for after work. Maybe I should get on with it...