Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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!
Welcome to the revolution and the end of days.
In plain english, you can now follow me on Twitter under BillyJeanJane.
Happy tweets, peeps!
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!
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!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
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...
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?
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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.
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.
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