I love how ‘geek’ has become ‘cool’

Ten years ago, if you were a devoted Star Wars fan or had a Spock poster on your wall, you were a geek. If you loved computer games, or achieved straight A’s for Maths, or had perfect grammar and spelling, you were a nerd. Which used to be a bad thing, right? Right? I know that I never enjoyed it as a nickname.


Now, a decade later, the roles have been reversed. Websites like theoatmeal have humorous comics about the proper usages of the term ‘irony’ and if you don’t understand xkcd, you may as well give up on social interaction.

No longer are we ruled by pretty blondes with no brain cells and brawny beefcakes without a shred of wit, but rather by the Liz Lemon, glasses-wearing geek-girls and the slightly off-beat, cardigan-shod Adam Brody’s of Hollywood.

Beauty will always be important, but if you can’t hold your end of a conversation about the implications of global warming, and you don’t understand jokes about spherical chickens, your pretty face won’t get you far.

I’m certain that it isn’t restricted to my getting older and people maturing, and that high schools are still filled with nasty blonde cheerleading beauty-queens ruling the social order. Movies that dominated my teen years about geeky guys desperately trying to get pretty girls probably don’t even mean anything to the tweens of today. The hottest teen-crush of today is a pale vampire with a skinny body, while the heartthrob singer uses more beauty products than I do.

I second the revolution and am giving it up to all those who endured years of torture in high school. Happy binary day to you all!

Finding the Daisy

It’s a trying time of year for me, since everything is a little up in the air. Do I need to move out and find a new flat, or do I stay where I am? I constantly feel like I need to make a change, but at the same time I quite like where I am right now. Do I throw it all up in the air, or do I stay in this infinite loop which has become my life?


Do I work through the night like a rabid squirrel and get on top of my thesis like a rash on a toddler? Or do I work slow and steady like the tortoise and inevitably win the race?

The frustrating thing is that being born a woman (well, I was actually born a baby but there was an unavoidable progression to this point) I have to over think everything. I have even started to have anxiety dreams about me failing at things. Not healthy.

So my mission this week is to stop and pause and find the daisies in the pavement of my life. Instead of looking out at the protracted concrete road to who-knows-where, I’m going to catch my breath and look between the cracks of the paving to find those small delights which keep life fresh and full of purpose.

I wish you would do the same.

Physics

If I wasn’t studying law, I think I’d be doing physics. No, I’m not sucking up to the boy. I have always loved science and there is something thrilling about scientific exploration. Of course, there is the inevitable math that goes alongside, but I think I could get the hang of it if I applied myself.

The thing is, I already have the nerdy glasses and the weak sense of humour. I’m a step away from being able to be huddled in a lab all day performing experiments, and I could work on cultivating my evil laugh.

*sigh* yes I know that most physicists don’t comply with this standard caricature of them, and in fact they are not all desperate, nerdy Jews whose mothers make Brisket on a Friday night. They do not all have weird personality disorders, making them annoying to almost everyone, nor do they insist on spending weekends at comic book stores. Just sometimes, you wish they would.


If nothing else, physics would at least allow me to understand xkcd a little more…

Barnlike; Frockward

Sauvignon Blanc to buy this year!

So peeps from the Blogosphere, I know that this is another boring list-style post, but it is also so much more than that. After a delightful (did I mention free?) lunch at the Hohenhort Cellars in Constantia (courtesty of my chef friend) I am committed to only drinking quality wine. If that means I drink less of it, so be it.

In any case, the Wine Magazine Top 10 Sauvignon Blancs have just been announced. I listed them here for you so you too can invest in the magic. It's a good excuse to go wine tasting too!

THE TOP 10 (in order of Star rating, then ascending price)

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Anura Unfiltered Reserve 2010
CELLAR PRICE: R80
Alc 13% RS 1.4g/L TA 7.6g/L pH 3.4
Intensely herbaceous on the nose. The palate is focused and pure with flavours of lime and green pepper. Excellent line of acidity. Drink now – 2012.


★ ★ ★ ★ ✩


Sauvignon.com 2010*
APPROXIMATE RETAIL PRICE: R34.99
Alc 14.02% RS 1.8g/L TA 8.1g/L pH 3.35
Herbaceous, slightly sweaty nose. The palate is intensely flavoured, yet lean and very dry. Great line of acidity. Drink now.

First Sighting 2009*
STRANDVELD PRICE: R57
Alc 13.1% RS 1.9g/L TA 6.3g/L pH 3.32
Gravel-road dustiness and herbaceous character on the nose. The palate shows optimally ripe fruit and gentle acidity. Attractive paprika/white pepper note lends interest. Drink now.


Cederberg 2010*
CELLAR PRICE: R85
Alc 13% RS 2.4g/L TA 7g/L pH 3.49
Pungent nose showing plenty of grassy, herbaceous character. The palate shows great fruit expression and fresh acidity. Pronounced lime flavour. Clean and pure with a long finish. Drink now – 2013.


De Grendel Koetshuis 2010*
CELLAR PRICE: R85
Alc 13.5% RS 1.5g/L TA 7.5g/L pH 3.4
Very herbaceous on the nose. The palate is austere and elegant yet displays excellent flavour intensity. Lime and paprika flavour. Drink now – 2013.

Strandveld 2010
CELLAR PRICE: R90
Alc 14.12% RS 1.8g/L TA 6.2g/L pH 3.34
Gravel-road dustiness and herbaceous character on the nose. The palate is clean and pure with juicy fruit and fresh acidity. Lime and green pepper flavour. Drink now – 2013.


Graham Beck
Pheasants’ Run 2009*
CELLAR PRICE: R135
Alc 14.2% RS 1.8g/L TA 7.9g/L pH 3.52
Intensely herbaceous on the nose and palate. Good palate weight, well integrated acidity. A complex wine with flavours of lime and paprika/white pepper. Drink now – 2012.


Graham Beck
Pheasants’ Run 2010*
CELLAR PRICE: R135
Alc 13.56% RS 2.3g/L TA 7g/L pH 3.44
Intensely herbaceous on nose and palate. Clean and pure with juicy fruit and an excellent line of acidity. Long, dry finish. Drink now – 2013.

★ ★ ★ ★

Darling Cellars Bush Vine 2010*
CELLAR PRICE: R35
Alc 12.62% RS 2.9g/L TA 6.9g/L pH 3.28
Hint of green melon on an otherwise shy nose. Light-bodied, elegant and austere on the palate. Lemon-lime flavour, great line of acidity. Drink now.

Groote Post Reserve 2009
CELLAR PRICE: R95
Alc 13.85% RS 3.9g/L TA 7.6g/L pH 3.45
Very grassy, herbaceous on the nose. The palate is big but balanced with ripe, juicy fruit and tangy acidity. Lots of paprika/ white pepper flavour and good texture. Drink now – 2012.

Restaurant Specials

I am always lucky enough to enjoy the specials that Cape Town restaurants offer and I think it's high time they were shared. Thanks to Whale Cottage for this list!


CAPE TOWN


* The Cru Cafe in the Cape Quarter: buy 1 wine flight, get 1 free, served with snacks, all days of week, lunch and dinner
* Wang Thai: 2 courses including rice R 69, at V&A Waterfront, Constantia, Somerset West, and Lagoon Beach branches, until 30 November
* Andiamo in the old Cape Quarter: R 49 breakfast special (juice, cooked breakfast, cappuccino), until 11h30 daily; 2 pizzas or 2 pastas with 2 glasses of wine R 125; Basil, chilli chicken/salmon salad with bottle of water or colddrink R 59, until 31 October. Tel (021) 421-3687
* Pure at Hout Bay Manor: 3 course dinner for R 200, and R 280 with a glass of wine added
* Vanilla in the Cape Quarter: 1/2 price sushi 12 - 6 pm, 25 % off cocktails
* Pepenero in Mouille Point : sirloin and chips R 79, seafood platter R 129, prawn platter R 99, oysters R 9 each, half-price sushi, spaghetti bolognaise R59
* Sinn’s Restaurant at Wembley Square: lunch (6 options) at R 50. 3-course dinner at R 135.
* Hussar Grill, in Camps Bay and Green Point: 400g beef ribs, 200g rump/sirloin steak, 200g boerewors R99, until stocks last
* Pepper Club on the Beach in Camps Bay: “Nip and Tuck promotion” - Prawn platter R98; Potjies R79,95; Sirloin and Prawn combo R89,50; Seafood platter R139,95; half-price sushi - until end October
* Kuzina in the new Cape Quarter: Meze platter for two plus bottle of wine R 189, Mondays - Fridays 12h00 - 18h00 and Sunday evenings from 18h00. Continuous. Tel (021) 418-8000
* Saul’s Sushi@Vegas, 118 Main Road, Sea Point: “Eat as much as you like” sushi R 120 Mondays and Tuesdays, “two for the price of one” sushi Fridays and Saturdays
* Theo’s on Beach Road, Mouille Point: oysters R 6 each, 1 kg prawns R 99, line fish R79, for lunch and dinner. 300 gram sirloin steak, spatchcock chicken peri peri and 500 gram spare ribs all R 79 for lunch only. Full sushi platter R99, half platter R50. Tel (021) 439-3494.
* 1800 in the Cape Royale Luxury Hotel, Main Road, Green Point: 300g sirloin steak R99. Until end October.
* Myoga at Vineyard Hotel, Newlands: 6 course dinner, with 5 choices per course, for R 150, Mondays - Saturdays, continues throughout summer
* Tank in old Cape Quarter: 2 courses R R140, 3 courses for R 165, both with a glass of wine, until end October. Tel (021) 419-0007
* Beluga, The Foundry, Green Point: 1 kg prawns R99; 50 % off sushi Sundays - Mondays from 12h00 - 19h00. Tel (021) 418-2948.
* The Kove, Victoria Road, Camps Bay: 2-course meal with glass of wine R120; Fish and chips R 79, 400g ribs R75, Oysters R 9, Seafood Platter R129, Rump 250gm R 79, Rump 500gm R 109, 1kg of prawns R 99, Lamb chops R99. Tel (021) 438-0004
* Cafe Sofia in Camps Bay, Green Point, etc: Breakfats specials, Burger R59, Chicken skewers R59.
* 221 Waterfront: two drinks for price of one, Mondays - Fridays, 16h30 - 18h30, two dishes on “Lite” and Sushi sections of menu for the price of one, 3-course dinner for R 135
* Jakes in the Village/on Summerley, in Steenberg and Kenilworth, respectively: 25 % off all dishes, 5 - 7 pm only, Mondays - Saturdays, until end September
* Buitenverwachting in Constantia: 2 courses R 149, 3 courses R 169, 4 courses R 199
* Duchess of Wisbeach, corner Main and Wisbeach Roads, Sea Point - free bottle of wine for a table of four
* Le Restau Paradiso, Kloof Street: Marie’s Menu 3 courses R 110; Capetonian Menu 3 courses R 130; French Classics Menu 3 courses R 150, until December.
* A Tavola in Claremont: 50 % off all pasta dishes on Mondays.
* The Lookout Deck, Hout Bay: 6 prawns free with specific main courses; 6 oysters R 36 (5 - 7 pm only), until end September
* La Mouette, Regent Road, Sea Point: 6 courses for R 175. Express Lunch - 2 courses (with 2 choices each) at R 99. Monday - Saturday dinner, Tuesday - Sunday lunch, until launch of Summer menu at Garden Party on 10 October. Tel (021) 433-0856
* Blonde restaurant, Hatfield Street: “two …blondes are better than one” promotion of 25 % off the bill, until September
* Lagoon Beach, Milnerton - 2 course meal from R 75, “all-you-can-eat” Sunday buffet R 99
* Jardine, Bree Street: 3-course dinner at R 180, Tuesdays - Saturdays
* Berthas in Simonstown: 1 kg mussels, 1 kg Queen prawns or 1 kg mini seafood platter cost R 99 each
* Ricks Cafe Americain, lunch special for R 39, Mondays - Saturdays, until 31 October
* The Square Restaurant, Vineyard Hotel, Newlands: 5-course dinner costs R 165. Tel (021) 657-4500
* Pepperclub Luxury Hotel & Spa: 6 oysters and a glass of bubbly R60, Fridays from 16h00, with jazz
* Aubergine: 2-course lunch R184, 3-course lunch R235, Wednesdays - Fridays
* Balducci’s: All pizzas (except Flaming Prawns) R49, 26-piece Platinum Sushi Plate for R99, Burgers from R55. Monday - Sunday, 12h00 - 18h00.
* Ferrymans, V&A Waterfront: 3-course pairing meal, with wines matching starter and main course, at R200, until September.
* Saul’s Taverna: for every meal ordered from main menu, the second person get’s a free main course from chef’s special menu
* Societi Bistro: “Tour of France” - 3-course French menu R 150, until October
* Chapman’s Peak Hotel, Hout Bay: Moelas Estufadas R35, Escargots R35, Oxtail R99, Hake and squid, chorico R29, Hake Fillet R69, Butternut and feta lasagne R69. Tel (021) 790-1036
* Quay 4: Snoek and chips R59, until October
* Black Marlin: Snoek on braai R55, half crayfish on braai R75, Saturdays and Sundays; 3 course meal plus glass of sherry R125, until October
* Hildebrand: 2 courses R 89, 3 courses R 120, until September
* Chenin Restaurant and Bar: Sirloin steak R60. Tel 021 425-2200
* Leaf Restaurant and Bar : 51 % off sushi from 11h00 - 16h00 and all day Sunday, 18 prawns for R69, 50 % off dimsum. Current
* Gesellig, Regent Road, Sea Point: 2 courses plus soup or dessert = R 90 for dinner; lunch costs R40 for dishes usually costing R65 - R77 12h00 - 14h00
* The Fish Shack Restaurant and Wine Bar, Paddocks, Milnerton: Shack Platter and glass of wine R 90
* Blowfish in Blouberg: Seafood platter R 89, 20-piece sushi platter + glass of wine R99, 500g rump steak R 95, Chicken schnitzel R75, Prawn platter R69, Thai seafood curry R79, Mixed Grill Espetada R95, until October. Tel 021 556-5464
* Ocean Basket: Starter, seafood platter, and bottle of Two Oceans wine for 2 for R 235 (only at Hout Bay, Plumstead, Tygervalley and V&A branches), until 31 October.
* Live Bait, Kalk Bay Harbour: pan-fried paprika calamari R50, until end October, Monday - Thrursday lunch, Sunday - Thursday dinner, tel 021 788-4133
* Bamboo, below Cape Royale Hotel: unlimited prawns at R 95 on Sunday evenings, 10 oysters for price of 8
* Cape Town Fish Market: 2 courses R 59, 3 courses R 69, (snoek paté, 200 g hake and chips, koeksisters) until 17 October
* Cafe Chic: 3 courses R130, half price cocktails Wednesdays, until October. Tel (021) 465-7218
* OYO at V&A Hotel : 500g crayfish special R185. Current
* Krugmann’s Grill, V&A Waterfront: 200g sirloin steak and 4 prawns R 65; chicken or beef burger with chips for lunch only 12h00 - 17h00 R29, both offers until end October
* Spur: rump and sirloin, and beef or chicken schnitzel all R 59,95, until end October
* Dale’s Black Angus Grill, Tableview: Beef Burger, Minute Fillet Steak and Egg, Mussel and Lobster Pot, Zuricher Geschnetzeltes, all R40; Liver R35; Fish & Chips R30; Castle Draft R12, until end October Tel (021) 551-7776

THE WINELANDS
* Allee Bleue, outside Franschhoek: choice of three 250 gram steaks at R 99, including a glass of estate wine, May - September. Tel (021) 874-1021
* Olivello, Klapmuts, outside Stellenbosch: 2-course meal R 99, 3-course meal R 119.
* Le Bon Vivant in Franschhoek: 2-course meal for R 150, 3 courses for R 175, until end October. Tel (021) 876-2717
* Cuvee, Simonsig wine estate, outside Stellenbosch: 2 course lunch or dinner + glass of wine R 170, 3 courses R 200, August - October
* Bosman’s, Grand Roche Hotel, Paarl: 3-course lunch and 2 glassses of wine for R 260, Sundays
* Lanzerac Hotel in Stellenbosch : 3 course lunch R 235
* Le Petite Ferme, Franschhoek: 2 courses R 100, 3 courses R 150, plus carafe of wine, live music, every Friday evening, until end October
* Ryan’s Kitchen at Rusthof, Franschhoek : 5 course meal Taste of Africa R395, with wine added R595. Summer Tel (021) 876-4598.
* Noble Hill, Klapmuts: Farmer’s Lunch costs R 62, Mondays - Fridays
* Restaurant Christophe, Stellenbosch: business lunch - 2 courses R130, 3 courses R 150, Tuesday - Friday, served within one hour, all year
* Allora in Franschhoek: 3 course menu at R89, until end November. Tel (021) 876-4375.
* Café Nadine, L’Ermitage, Franschhoek - pasta, sald and glass of wine R69. Tel (021) 876-9200
* Waterkloof Restaurant at Waterkloof in Somerset West: Summer special - 2 courses R140, 3 courses R170, and includes a tasting of 5 Waterkloof wines. Tel (021) 858-1491
* L’ermitage, Franschhoek: 2 course meal and glass of wine R85. Until end October. Tel (021) 876-9200

OTHER AREAS
* Season in Hermanus: 2 course meal R 75, bredie of the day R 48, Sunday roast R 65, 3-course Sunday lunch R 110. Tel (028) 316-2854
* Mediterrea in Hermanus: 3 course meal R 195, Monday - Thursday dinners and Sunday lunches
* The Class Room, Hermanus: 5 course gourmet dinner, R 165, Wednesdays - Saturdays, until end October. Tel (028) 316-3582


www.whalecottage.com

Emihen

My scorecard at Rocking the Daisies

Outfit: 2/10

I need to realise that clearly I am not a super-trendy dresser. At least this year’s outfit was a step up from Synergy, where my friends basically re-dressed me. I didn’t see what was wrong with my cargo shorts and peak cap – it was comfortable, dammit!

However, mini-pants and a little top just don’t cut it. There were festival dresses and cute little boots and those new stupid shoes that are part-sandal, part-ankle bandage. Everyone was far trendier than I was but at least my feet didn’t hurt after…

Party spirit: 8/10
Very excited girl that I was, I made sure to attend almost all of the bands all day. Save for my 15-minute power nap in the very cool and very cosy Ray-Bans tent, I was up front doing the dance most of the day.

I even danced to HHp and made the circle bigger.

Despite being a 10th wheel (or so, I lost count of the couples in the end), I wasn’t disheartened and insisted they party with me all night.

Stamina: 6/10
While some of my friends wouldn’t agree (i.e. the ones who kept telling me I was ‘lame’ for not spending the night in the electro tent), my stamina was higher than the rest of the party that faded before 12.
Something that amuses me no end though is how people try to justify their peer pressuring by stating truisms over and over. An example is, ‘You have to stay up all night.’ Why? ‘Because it’s Rocking the Daisies!’ Er, apparently that is validation enough for doing just about anything.

Greenness: 9/10
I didn’t shower once!
Also, I threw everything in the dustbin, including that which wasn’t mine. I only ate things that have been recycled already (Samoosas) and I made sure I danced out all the liquid I drank so I didn’t have to dispose of it with chemicals (also, porto-loos make me very uncomfortable so I was doing anything to avoid them).

Cape Town: a million; Joburg: none

As a born-and-bred Joburgian, I often find myself defending it on grounds that I have family there, that it’s really ‘so much better when you know it’ and honestly, it’s not that bad. All of this is true, but sometimes Cape Town just rises up to the challenge and blows all of those other arguments out of the water.


For example, my family is here. It gets better every time you get to know it more. And it’s really all that good.

I picked the boy up from the airport yesterday. We drove out of Shanty town and along the beachfront in Mouille Point, where we stopped at a little seaside café.La Vie Restaurant We ordered fresh ocean mussels drowned in garlic, butter and white wine sauce. Yes, I know you can get mussels in Joburg, but you sure as hell can’t smell them on the beach as you eat them.

After smashing down a plateful of pizza, we thought we needed something to take our minds off our full bellies. We moseyed along down to the Waterfront for a ‘look’ at the boat cruises. It ended up being a haggling experience with the boat promoters swooping down on us like seagulls when you are eating fish and chips. In the end we settled on the classic ‘Spirit of Victoria’. The boat left at 4pm on calm-as-a-lake seas as we sailed out of the harbour. The spirit is a beautiful old sailing ship, complete with mast and high sails. We were lucky enough to sit right up in front and feel the wind (created only by the movement of the boat, my physicist informs me) in our hair.

Our glasses were kept full to the brim of pretty pink champagne as head sailed towards Camps Bay. The water was so still we were able to see the hundreds of jellyfish and bluebottles floating past us. Unable to resist, the boy felt the need to try and scare me and ended up only making me spill a whole glass of champagne over my brand new white dress. Unimpressed, I sulked for about 5 minutes until we spotted dolphins.

Now, righteous female anger at juvenile male pranks is an all-important binding factor in any healthy relationship, but I am only human and there were DOLPHINS! The excited little girl inside me whose favourite colour is purple and who collects puppy-in-my-pockets leapt up and insisted we circle the boat around the dolphins to see more.

As if that wasn’t enough, we were able to see a whale playfully turning over and over onto her side, waving her flipper in the air. Apparently it’s calving season so there are lots close into the bay.

After that we headed back to our perfect little suburb of Stellenbosch to watch the sun set over the oak trees.

And yet again, Cape Town wins.

I am a hero. Yeah, I am.

Blood donation is such an important part of our modern lives, and yet so many people shy away from it because they’re squeamish, or don’t like blood or are just plain lazy. Unfortunately, that isn’t good enough. Joan Osborne 'Pensacola'


Donating blood once can save up to 3 people’s lives. 3 people. That’s a lot of lives to save by a simple 15 minute act of selflessness. Plus, there is free coke and cookies (yay) and really nice smiley nurses to make you feel a little better. More than that is the thought that the next child who is in a car accident can have my blood to save his life. It’s fairly inspiring stuff and it should motivate all of us to just get out there and do some good.

That said, there is a disturbing element of creepiness to the whole affair. Ultimately, there is a group of humans being herded together in a long queue to donate blood. We are milked for our life force like cattle. In fact, the Stellenbosch blood drive is called ‘The Big Bleed’. Hooking yourself up to a sucking machine to bleed out seems to hail back to medieval leeching treatments. If I didn’t know better, and I am beginning to think I don’t, I could consider a conspiracy theory about humans being farmed for darker purposes. Perhaps I watch too much sci-fi…Daybreakers

Maybe they should change it from the ‘Big Bleed’ to ‘Dexter’s Playground’?

May I feel

A poem worth sharing - just in case you haven't read it yet

may i feel said he

(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)

25 things I didn't want to know about you (that I now do thanks to Facebook)

1. I eat rice with a fork.

2. I was fat in primary school. The wake of that horror has yet to subside.
3. I keep forgetting that Mandela isn't our President.
4. I have been pooped on by a monkey.
5. I am addicted to the ass-slap dance move. Sometimes I don't even notice I'm doing it.
6. When I finally told my now fiancé that I liked him (as in, liked him liked him), I drunkenly gave him the Anchorman line, "I want to be on you." He had only seen the movie once and had no idea what it was from.
7. Just because I realize that Asian women are smarter, more attractive, and have about themselves a generally superior level of class does not mean I have a fetish. Just that I'm racist.
8. I eat gummy bears by tearing them limb from limb and eating their heads last.
9. I can't grow hair on my arms.
10. Two of my best friends are under five feet tall and I have an intense fear of midgets.
11. I think yoga is incredibly spiritual. I know the Lord is with me in my naked downward-facing dog.
12. I was born with jaundice.
13. I was born pigeon-toed.
14. I was born with an extra kidney. I wish I could have sold it on the black market and made some money, but it was underdeveloped and did nothing but cause me to wet the bed until the standard 2.
15. I like to tape my thumbs to my hands to see what it would be like to be a dinosaur.
16. A horse once fell over while I was riding it.
17. I don't believe in democracy.
18. I cried when Spock died in Star Trek II.
19. I drink two glasses of wine every night before bed. Wait, did I just admit to alcoholism?
20. If you asked me to tell you my favorite movie, I would have a hard time not saying Titanic.
21. I once sent a teacher into early retirement by pretending to be a cheetah and swiping at her from under a desk.
22. I once ran into New Kids On the Block's Joey McIntyre in the lobby of an off-Broadway show. I told him he was the first boy I ever loved. He laughed and kind of smiled. This was the most gratifying moment of my life.
23. My friends say that when they shave my back, I purr like a walrus.
24. I don't understand what people see in the Godfather trilogy.
25. Sometimes I think pee smells like Cheerios.

My Promise

Alive

Motivation

This isn't it.

Twitter

Yes, people, it has finally happened. I am a bloggin', tweetin', tooting (? it seemed to go) sensibly sassy little lady. Since I also downloaded Rianna's new song from YouTube, I guess that makes me a YouTwitFace.


Welcome to the revolution and the end of days.


In plain english, you can now follow me on Twitter under BillyJeanJane.


Happy tweets, peeps!

Sad, but true

Holiday Planning Time!

It’s time to start tanning my white legs and get my body into shape because this summer is Mocambique, baby!


I can’t afford a fancy island holiday, which was evident yesterday when the consultant basically swallowed her laughter when I told her what my budget was for accommodation in the Seychelles. After that she was very patronizing. But why should we go offshore when we have a tropical country on our border (where poverty is so rife they are DESPERATE for tourists to come and spend a little money!)


In the information package I requested I received some interesting local colour. I have summarised the highlights:


• Is supported by The World Bank and most of the biggest economies in the world, maybe because of being the only country in the world that after signed the peace accord did have peace(?)


• MOZAMBIQUE is a very safe country, even if things do happen sometimes. (perhaps it’s just me, but I’d like more specificity than just ‘things’. What manner of things go on that they don’t say it?)


• Don’t leave your car alone in crowded places like markets.(I wouldn’t dream of it – she’s agoraphobic)


• Hospitals are fine and very efficient ; they always use a disposable needle, special when they see a foreigner (and the locals? Take your chances, I guess)


• The fines are hug if you don’t have one. (What an awesome country – here we pay cash, there the traffic officers make your day)


• Bringing too much goods into Mozambique can be a problem, like 2 cases of beer, or 5 different bottles of spirit; they will charge for that, well… besides that they are fine.


I like that as a summation as to border controls that, well…besides that they are fine.


Please don’t think that I am some English-correcting grammar overlord, but appreciate the humour in the sentence construction with me.


December vay-kay, Vodka-and Redbull up in my hand!

Escapism-ing?

Firstly, why are we so unconscionably drawn to horror films to scare the BEE-Jayzus out of us? And secondly, why are we so unbelievably unimaginative when it comes to creating ‘baddies’?

What I mean is that people (not me) find a desperate need to cram themselves into dark dirty cinemas to watch the latest corn-syrup drenched vile that comes onto screen (I am specifically referring to Resident Evil 3: Afterlife to which I was unwillingly dragged). A recent movie was entitled Paranormal Activity and the tagline reads: “Paranormal Activity is one of the scariest movies of all time. You will be affected as it’s hard to avoid the effect it imprints on your psyche. Nightmares are guaranteed.”

Um, am I the only idiot in the room who thinks there is something severely off-putting about that? Am I the only one who thinks, ‘Er, I’ll give that one a skip, thanks. Oh look, a Julia Roberts movie’? Notice there isn’t a rush to go and watch movies about people dying of AIDS, or domestic violence. Alcoholism and crime and poverty don’t exactly make for blockbuster quality (unless Eminen sings the soundtrack, and stars in it). The fact is that despite Tsotsi winning Gavin Hood an Oscar, I struggle to name 5 people I know who have seen it (myself included).

The things that should really scare us, the likely things that could actually happen and will have the worst consequences, are not the ones we like to terrify ourselves with. Are we escapism-ing? (yes, I’m making that a transitive verb). Are we putting on the blinkers and making ourselves scared of something else? It’s a strange reflection on the modern mentality that we’d rather terrify ourselves on abnormal activity than face up to the real terrors of life.


On the second point, as to imagination, I feel like there are just waves of scary-type monsters. When I was growing up it was Hocus Pocus, The Craft and for daytime viewing, Charmed. Then it went through the Slasher-movie phase of I Know What You Did Last Summer, Scream and the Nightmare on Elm Street series. Then simultaneously we had the rise of the undead (ohhh….good movie title). We had the vampire classics of Interview with a Vampire, the daytime viewing of Twilight, the social commentary of True Blood and the sexy edition of Vampire Diaries. With zombies, we have a collection of everything from Tarantino’s corn syrup-soaked Planet Terror to Simon Pegg’s humour with Shaun of the Dead. Are we really so derivative that we cannot muster anything more terrifying than the undead?

                                   Looks like Rose McGowan can span two of those themes...

I just fell in love all over again…

With Stellenbosch.

Every morning (ok, fine, some mornings) I walk to work under a thick carpet of psychedelic-yellow trees bursting full of spring. I hold my breath for exactly 10 seconds while I walk past the stinky drain next to Nu Bar (and on the right mornings, their dustbins). I neatly skip across to the side of the road without the resident bergie so that I don’t get that welling of guilt when I don’t give him money.
In front of me is usually one or other of the diminishing-waist poppies in a miniskirt and (despite it being the tail-end of winter) a gorgeous I-spent-the-summer-in-Greece tan. Lord love ‘em, they may not be the smartest puppies in the kennel, but they certainly make the scenery better.
I spend the morning in my beautiful old office in a cape-Dutch style building, tapping away at my very own intellectual property. Sporadic bouts of conversation with the colleague help to pass the time, and a short coffee break in the sunny quad keeps me awake. I don’t even really like coffee, but it’s free so it’s for me.
The next thing I know, it’s lunch time. I head off home (with the boy at my side) for some delicious concoction. No, not 2-minute noodles, usually my favourite (health loaf with pepper ham, mozzarella cheese, hot English mustard and rocket).
The afternoon alternates between coffee with friends (up along Church street) and an outing to gym. Yes, I want to go to Europe and the moment someone offers to pay for me, I’m there like a bear. In the meantime, coffee at one of the street cafés, underneath cool oak trees, with a view of the Church, will do me just fine. The other option of gym should sound like punishment, but again I find that in Stellenbosch the seaweed is definitely greener. The walk up die laan with the rich smells of yesterday, today and tomorrow, clivias and jasmine as well as the hoard of sexy toned gymming students makes for a fairly pleasant warm up.
Weekends involve lazy walks around town, or the mountains and an afternoon filled with wine tasting.
Yes, Moksie may occasionally call your mother a p**s and you will start to feel like you’re suffocating after a few weeks of being cut off from the rest of the world. You know what? I’m happy to still be in the Honeymoon phase with this place.

How I see my status updates on Facebook

I LOVE Content

Last night I had the strangest dream…

No really, this week has been absolutely spectacular in terms of dreaming. Of course, I wake up every morning completely exhausted because it honestly feels like I dream all night long.

Monday night’s dream, while not being particularly prophetic or deep, was amazing. I was stuck at the back of a queue in Woolworths (the long snaky one) staring at all the impulse-buy items. They had tasters on display of EVERY DIFFERENT CHOCOLATE! And not just little bits, but bowls and bowls of lindor and cote d’or and so on. I felt like I ate chocolate for an entire night. It was incredible. I woke up and basically broke down the door to go to gym because I was sure I had managed to pack on the weight of an entire Backstreet Boy overnight (that being said, you can’t put on weight from dream chocolate, right? Right?)
Last night’s dream was, ok a little disturbing (since it featured Bob Kelso and a Nag(?)) but also strangely comforting. I had possibly the most vivid dream about having a baby. Of course, my mind clearly thinks how it wishes it would be, because in my dream labour wasn’t some excruciating ordeal. Rather, they put me under anesthetic and when I woke up a soft little bundle in a blue blanket was placed in my arms. (I have no desire for a sweaty, painful experience and then a screaming little gremlin covered in placenta).

It was the cutest thing I have ever touched. He was so soft ( I called him Joshua) with tiny little eyes and tiny little fingers. If I close my eyes I can still smell his soft baby skin and the non-existent little hairs tickling my nose. So apparently I am so broody that not only do I basically want to snatch every women’s baby that I see on the street, now I am dreaming about having them and holding them. Naturally I would have to change my whole lifestyle, but, and here's the kicker, I wouldn't mind!

I sincerely hope the boy doesn’t read this, because I’m pretty sure one of the “Rules” for catching a man is not to give any inkling that you want to breed a little farmhouse full of children. Well, tough. Denying it is not going to change my craving for a baby.

Weekends in the Sun

Cape Town makes me happy. Cape Town makes me glad. Cape Town makes my heart all full and is seldom ever bad!

As you may have gathered, I spent the weekend in Cape Town. Idyllic, perfect and absolutely magnificent, Cape Town. That comment I made a few weeks ago about now being able to withstand peer pressure until all my friends started getting engaged? Well, it happened again. Hoofseun proposed to his pretty girlfriend! I felt it was time we partook in the food and vine again, so headed off to the big city.
Back in the day, I used to be a little Cape Town girl. Now, however, it’s a case of Plaasmuis vir Stadsmuis kom kuier. I am a little-town country hick of a bumpkin (I cannot drive in the CBD). I ventured into the colourful (in terms of both culture and quite literal colour) area of BoKaap. Two bottles of wine down, we had pretty much caught up to where we left off.
Friday was another perfect morning. We woke up in Camps Bay and headed along one of the most beautiful coastal routes in the country. Luckily we had our passports on us, as we had to enter into the Republic of Hout Bay. Dutifully rewarded, we went down to the harbour for what Hout Bay is known – fresh fish. My snoek tasted as though they had caught him seconds before putting him in the batter. Honestly, I almost felt bad about how fresh it was. Almost. Then I smashed that whole fish in my face with sheer bliss. To wash down the carcinogenic dare which was our breakfast, the boy and I decided that a long-overdue visit to the Constantia vineyards warranted our attention.
We were not wrong.
I was desperate to show him the port that Napolean drank, that is mentioned in Sense and Sensibility and that was hoarded by the nobility of Europe. I seem to remember that it was at Groot Constantia. It wasn’t. So we tried High Constantia. It still wasn’t. Eventually we headed to Klein Constantia, where it was. We were rewarded with not only the port I had been seeking, but a charmingly sweet young woman who poured us beautiful French Bordeaux, Methode Cap Classique with yeasty oat flavours and a well-rounded Cab to finish us off.


Friday night yielded the pizza party which was silly, fun and a good send off for a dear friend. This song seems to sum it up for me: Start wearing purple After a late night visit to Dizzy’s, our CT experience was complete. Thanks for the wine, the song and thank goodness the season is not gone, but has only begun!

The Bishop

Someone close to me once told me that I only open my mouth to change feet. For the sake of upholding tradition, I felt that a meeting with the new Archbishop of Cape Town shouldn’t be any different.



As if it wasn’t bad enough that the first time I spoke to him (albeit over the phone), the name was a little foreign to me and I may have treated him with a tad too little formality. I thought I should continue the trend over dinner.


The wonderful part about being young (yes, I have changed my tune since my lamentable updates about my age) is that you know absolutely everything. As my dad points out, blogging belongs to the realm of the young, when you still know everything and the solutions to life’s most pressing issues are merely a matter of common sense. Bigotry is also something of second nature to me. Hence, in a moment of perhaps careless folly, I made the (not uncontroversial) statement that “Men who live on their own become strange and tend to end up as weird old bachelors”. Who knew that I had touched a nerve? Of course, I meant men who become the strange old neighbours upstairs (I am thinking now of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Most Peculiar Man”music, or the strange guy who used to come into the pub I worked at and order a beer, just to sit somewhere else and curb the loneliness). In this context, women are as prone to become strange old cat ladies because, wait for it kids, humans aren’t meant to live alone. We are not leopards or Japanese fighter fish. We are community-loving, huddle-together-for-warmth, lets-stick-together animals, whether we like it or not. Now the Bishop, while he may live alone, lives within a wider community and becomes a ‘father’, a ‘brother’ and an integral part of the family. Hopefully that part of my disastrous slur will be apparent to him.


As my mother so kindly says “All the world is mad but me and thee, and I think I have doubts about thee." The truth is that we are all a bunch of wierdos, some of us are just better at camouflage. I love weirdness and I think its application in everyday life is so underrated. Oscar Wilde so memorably reminded us that there are not good and bad people, merely interesting and tedious ones. I pray that I am always one of the interesting ones.


The upside of the debacle is that the Bishop is now keen to read my blog. Talk about advertising! I can just imagine the slogans now: “Dogmatically Compelling”. “Of Cardinal Importance”. “Read this Religiously”. “One hell of a good read”. Sigh. If only.

In an effort to prolong my youth, I am rapidly aging myself.

Why am I getting old? This seems entirely unfair and something that was sprung upon me without consent. That’s an unfair term! Universe, you cannot unilaterally dictate conditions in our agreement without my knowledge.


Being the brave intrepid explorer that I am, I decided to climb up Table Mountain on Sunday afternoon. 5 years ago I would have done this without thinking, bounded to the top and been at the bottom with a beer in no time at all. It was hardly that easy. However, after we were finished it was a great experience and I was quite proud of myself.


Until I had to get up on Monday morning. And Tuesday morning. And yesterday. And (for CRYING IN A BUCKET) this morning. That’s 4 days. Of DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness, or as I like to call it, Damn Old Mortality Sickness). What is up with being stiff for 4 days? The scary thing is that it shows no signs of abating any time in the near future, despite me having stretched every day and gone to gym. I even tried to combat the symptoms with ethanol (in the bad old days it was thought that stiffness was caused by a build-up of lactic acid, which is the animal-cell equivalent of fermentation). Despite knowing that that is now completely discredited as a theory, I thought I would give it a shot. No such luck, just other parts of me are now stiff.


In any event, I am attempting to climb again this weekend so wish me luck!

It's true.

The sky might be falling on our heads!

But, logically speaking, it probably isn’t.

Over the past year or so I have been starting to feel a little despondent. Not an easily-locatable (apparently Microsoft agrees that that is in fact a word), deep sense of depression. Rather a kind of settling sense of dejection that I was not, in fact, the proverbial Big Cheese. For someone with my sense of self-importance, this is an alarming realisation.

However, the latest set of news is good. My ship may actually be coming in, albeit one wooden board, one nail and one sail at a time. I have just been offered a short internship at a major law firm. While I thought I had actually made up my mind to pursue the life of an academic, I cannot ignore the lure of a corporate environment, nor deny my desperate itch to want to wear Jenny Button. This unfortunately will involve losing the weight equivalent to a Backstreet Boy, since ol’ JB doesn’t make clothes for anyone over a size 2.

In other good news, I found a way to motivate myself to write. A little ‘Dear Editor’ letter later, and a nice wooden box turned up at my door. Ever a fan of wooden boxes, I was extremely excited. Until I thought a little further and actually opened the box. What greeted me was a Jeroboam (3l bottle, for those of you unfamiliar with the term) of Pinotage. Oh joy! That is far better than anyone’s praise!

Thus this week begins on an unusually upbeat note. All of a sudden I have goals and ambition and such things that are good for motivation.

Who knows, I may even write some…

Book caption: Avoiding Death

A just-before-middle-mid-life-crisis

Yes, it is an official medical term and yes, I am suffering from it. It’s the feeling that creeps in when all your friends are moving into the next phase of life, and you are stagnating like a puddle of water in the Jukskei stream. They all have new jobs, are becoming real people and have real responsibilities. You, however, are still holed up in the Academia bubble which is Stellenbosch, pretending the real world never existed. 

You want to dress like a rockstar and look like a model, but your energy levels just do not accommodate such luxuries. You want a fancy car, but then you realise that you walk everywhere and not only can you not afford the premiums or the lifestyle, you can’t afford petrol. You eye out the pretty first year in your class, until you realise that he was in Std 4 when you were in College. Disgusting. It’s not paedophilia, it’s just silly. I doubt the boy can even relate to “I got hugs for you/if you were born in the 80’s/the 80’s”. 

You get annoyed with people in Mercury, because you’re “Too old for this shit”, and at the same time lament the fact that you no longer know anyone in Bohemia because, when you went out, you used to be the big cheese. It’s a mission to go out on a Wednesday night (because there are like, other people there), but you hate to go out on a Monday where it feels dead. 

I’m officially stuck in the twilight which is the space between real life, and the endless ream of paperwork which is post-grad living. 

On an unrelated topic, but one completely worth mentioning, Vulcans are amazingly hot. They strike the right balance with me. 

Go forth and prosper. 

Saturday Night Lites

Dinner party with the sis

In an effort to be a good girl, and not to party unnecessarily, I was going to stay home this Saturday night. Again. Also, I have this annoying little cashflow problem that I am dealing with at the moment. How it works is that the ATM doesn’t want to give me money when I try and draw it because I have ‘insufficient funds’. I’m no doctor, but that doesn’t sound good.

In any case, this sense of resolve lasted roughly 18 seconds, or enough time for me to decide that it wasn’t worth it. The sister-lawyer apparently had some buddies doing burgers at Royale, so I decided to hit that. Unfortunately, after the age of 25, ‘doing burgers at Royale’ no longer means a bunch of people who can’t really afford it plan on going out for burgers and the cheapest drinks they can find, but rather a birthday dinner party. To which I had not received an invite. Oops.

Now grown up people think that the best way not to overstay one’s welcome is to be quiet in the corner and unobtrusive. My way, however, is to chat to everyone I see and become the life of the party. I must be growing up though, since I stopped short of proposing a toast to the birthday girl and leading everyone in a terrible rendition of “For she’s a jolly good fellow”. I say that, but actually it would have more likely been a chorus of “She comes from Finland, what do we call her? Finnish! Finnish!” Not my finest moments. I of course ended up telling silly stories about making viennas in the kettle and even used the line “It’s not quite Viennese coffee.”

In any case, I now had dinner dates with wine-marketer and wine-marketer’s-wine-maker boyfriend. I hope the boy doesn’t mind, but really, I’m not sure it will make too much difference. In any case, I went out on Long Street, wore my unnecessarily weird little space boots and generally had a good time. So much for a sense of resolve!

Invigilation

If you read my blog, you have probably come to the conclusion that I have pretty much the best job that anyone can ask for. You may be right. I am happy. No Dilbert-esque complaints for me (although I do enjoy the sadistic advantage of sending them to stressed-out friends who made the asinine choice to join the rat race). However, the only part of it I’m not particularly fond of is the actual ‘work’ aspect, so currently it really annoys me.

Yes, there have been many Farmville-filled days, oodles of hours spent idle scrolling through the vast amount of internet-filth which clogs up my newsfeed and many minutes spent chuckling over cartoons like this:

But now, alas, the brief summer of our youth is over and it’s time to put foot to the grindstone, nose to the wheel, eyes to the heavens…that style ‘o fing.


What I am referring to is the worst aspect of any working, post-graduate étudiante’s life: invigilation. If it were only the simple task of watching students sweat it out over tests they have only half-studied for, I wouldn’t mind at all. 2 hours can easily be whiled away playing battleships or hangman. No, it is the preparation that kills me. First, I have to fight my own department to give me the test papers, as if I am asking them some serious favour. Then, there is the inevitable attempt to gain access to the keys from the caretaker of the relevant building. One basically has to pry the keys out of his hand, his eyes now nothing more than malevolent slits, your own heart beating so fast you think “Am I doing something wrong?” Like when a cop pulls you over and you instantly start lying about everything out of sheer panic.


The “Thou shalt not pass” key thing exasperates me intensely. It’s not only the building caretakers who have it, but the same reaction appears anywhere with someone in a not-so-important position with a hint of power. The secretary with the bathroom key. The tea lady who guards the coffee jar. All of them use their one hold over you to exercise some grasp of power, as if making that little part of your day shit will somehow validate their trifling existence. Do I speak too harshly? Perhaps. Clearly their pitiable attempt to infuriate me has worked. Dang.

What a wonderful weekend

It’s probably time to re-enter the blogosphere. The reason I have been somewhat amiss amounts to me doing some actual WORK (believe it or nuts). Of course, when I say work, I mean personal work, writing stories and applying for bursaries. Whatever, at least it’s not facebook.


The towers came down this weekend.Towers falling I missed it, but then again E-tv news described it as ‘the mother of all anti-climaxes’. I didn’t feel bad. Of course, had you listened to the radio as they came down you would have thought that something far more momentous had happened. I mean, sure, 50 years of history and part of the skyline and blah blah blah but seriously? People said they were going to “miss them”. How? In what way were polluting monstrosities part of your life? Then people wondered how they were “going to give directions to their houses now”. Look in front of you. See that MASSIVE Mountain, dominating the skyline? The big one? The one we’re famous for? See if you can use that as a guide.


It’s at times like this when I wonder if there is really nothing sacred. We can drum up that level of ridiculous sentimentality for a building, and yet a headline that reads “100’s raped outside DRC UN camp” can pass us by unnoticed. It saddens me. But then I have the same feelings towards people who will fight tooth and nail for animal rights, but have no qualms about the millions of people living like animals next door to them. In the words of a close friend, “I will henceforth refer to vegetarians, environmentalists and animal rights activists by their collective noun: "Communists."


On a lighter note, the boy decided that since I had missed the momentous occasion, and clearly needed comfort for the loss of my dear towers, I deserved to be wined and dined and treated like a little princess. We swanned into a little French wine farm Allee Bleue just outside of Franschoek for a little wine tasting. The wines were, well, average bit for the price, very well suited. Go with whites if you ever stop by. We decided to head to the restaurant for their awesome R99 steak n wine special. But my oh my. If you are looking to have steak that doesn’t require you to re-mortgage your house to afford it, and yet you don’t want to have to go to Spur, this is the place for you.


There were linen tablecloths, and linen napkins. Silver butter-dishes. These are the things that make life worthwhile. I don’t care if that makes me a snob; I like things to be proper. If at all possible I would have my evening meal brought to me on the ring of a bell, by a well-trained and highly obedient little Creole boy.


Enough of my bigotry for one day. Sufficed to say that a lovely glass of Pinotage and a juicy piece of fillet was enough to bring on the illusive, but well-documented steak dance, which I performed to the delight and immense joy of all the staff. I feel that I enriched them.


Now go forth and find steak!