This gorgeous 11-year-old girl on America's Got Talent left me in tears this morning...
Such a beautiful voice.
Wanted to share it with you guys.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Everybody's shuffling...
I'm sorry I've been out of action. Am slowly pulling up my woolly winter socks and attempting to integrate back into society. So much so that I even braved the infamous, and positively ghastly 1st-year-haunt Tiger Tiger on Friday night. I drowned my self-pitying sorrows and 10 minutes in you could find me atop a large speaker in leopard-print stilettos performing a series of pouts as I 'shuffled' to 'Party Rockers' aside a gorgeous, slim coloured girl (whose smooth rhythmic moves made mine look like an allergic reaction) who kept telling me to 'go lower'! Any lower and I would've been sitting! I was practically in a squat position, which caused the bouncer to politely tap me on the shoulder and point out the bathroom. As I attempted to gesture a 'No, I'm ok, thanks' I managed to somehow lose grip on my Hunter's Dry, which flung forcefully into his brick-wall chest and shatter to the carpet (seriously). At that point I thought it best to leap off the speaker and scramble away into the hoard of inebriated fellow clubbers.
As proof of 'how low I could go' on that damn speaker, I woke up to searing quad pain on Saturday morning. At least it took the focus away from my headache.
As I proceeded to voice my woes that morning and decide that I would not get out of bed today, or any day, ever again, I was dragged to The Biscuit Mill by a friend, apparently our new dude-spotting local. Dude spotting?! I was already seeing spots. So I pushed past the dudes and got me a fat pizza and a glass of Champagne to ease me into the afternoon.
The weekend carried on in a similar pattern. When you're going through a tough time, I've found Champagne is the best solution (and a freezocino as the non-alcoholic option. But who would opt for that?). As is (and I have never believed this before) hot chocolate, 'Friends' (the series), carbohydrates, hot chocolate, carbohydrates…
And dancing off course... So here is my quote for the day. There are so many amazing studios around Cape Town. Just ask me! Find one you love and take some classes. It's the hidden language of the soul. (Yes, even if you're just doing it on a Tiger Tiger speaker!)
"There are short-cuts to happiness... Dancing is one of them" – Vicki Baum
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Easy does it
This weekend has come at an excellent time. This ball of snot needs a timeout. Movies and looooots of healthy food (I eat more than usual when I'm sick because there's nothing else to do). Haven't touched bubbly in a week, which in my case deserves a frikken' medal. Or a bottle of Champagne. But going to get rid of this blasted cold first before I get back on my horse. Have been avoiding phone calls from friends in case someone tempts me with an awesome, unturndownable night on the town...
A quiet eveing lies ahead. TV, takeaways... Whilst Lovely Boyfriend is off galavanting around Cape Town, sidekick-less. Which I'm sure he much prefers!
Tomorrow kicks off with a complimentary 'high tea' at the One&Only (a media thing). Am taking Lovely Boyfriend's sister so we can dress up and go gossip our faces off over Lindt chocolate fondants. If my passages decide to clear, then I might replace tea with bubbly. But my ears are so blocked that I am quite literally 'playing it by ear'.
Sunday, Lovely Boyfriend and I are reviewing Tashas in Constantia. I plan on that being my only meal of the day (saving cash) and so am aiming to try the majority of the menu. Lovely Boyfriend is about to witness something he's never before seen.
That's all from me. I'm boring when I'm sick.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
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?
Thursday, May 19, 2011
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.
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