The sort-of A-Z guide of a day-in-the-life-of a Jozi girl

A is for Ass – As in slide it up and down a glass wall in an effort to look sophisticated, when really you just look drunk.

B is for Bruise – Two on my arm. Either I fell over (which I really didn’t), or I boofed my own arm after coming home at 2:30am and passing out in bed.

C is for Condoms and Coffee – I haven’t seen a condom in 2,5 months. But I did meet C, The Dove and my parents for coffee this weekend on three separate occasions. Bottega in Parkhurst does a nice cappuccino.

D is for Dildo – Pretty, our lovely maid, finally found mine.

E is for Era – Or the end of an.

F is for Friends – I am a girl who loves hers to pieces. My best friends are the siblings I never had. They are incredible people.

G is for Graunch – The Ant and I, in a bid to have a bit of girly giggly fun, randomly graunched each other throughout the evening Friday at a friend’s birthday party. (The Gilb, her boyfriend, said it was ok.) Tongue-boofing has never been so funny. In front of our shocked male friends.

H is for Hat – I went to a party Saturday where everyone got a free one.

I is for Ice – I hit the rink again on Sunday evening.

J is for Juice – I drink a lot of juice.

K is for Kitchen – If you can’t take the heat, get out of it.

L is for Lace – 90% of my underwear. Looks good, and feels even better.

M is for Mastication – (You thought I’d say something else didn’t you?) It’s important to chew one’s food as thoroughly as possible before swallowing.

N is for Norman Bates – He boofed his mother. (Not that this has anything to do with an A-Z girly Jozi guide, but it’s still worth a mention.)

O is for One Out Of Every 100 000 – that’s how many people read my blog in the world. It is a tiny, tiny, tiny slice of the entire pie, if Earth can de described as an apple crumble, say. This is good. Because if I ever up and move to, say, Estonia, nobody there would have an agenda with me.

P is for Pulsate – my favourite store in this city, followed closely by The Space at Rosebank. The only reason I really go to Sandton City is to fondle and purchase ad liberatum exquisite clothes at Pulsate. And when they have freak half-price sales like this weekend, my eyes glaze over and I become a bitch on a clothing heat.

Q is for Quiet Time – we all need some, for deep contemplation and when Home & Away is on.

R is for Razzle – When we go out on a razzle. Like hit clubs and shit.

S is for Sell-By Date – Off milk, or when it’s over, or expendable relationships.

T is for Tit – A bird, a boob. The former is more acceptable to show off in public than the latter. (“Can I show you Cyril my budgie?”)

U is for – Unchartered territory. Or not. The Chic Jozi Pocketbook, which gives an extensive directory from nurseries, to museums, to shopping, to places to eat and dance in Joburg, indicates that I’ve done 99% of everything here. I’ve yet to shake ass at The Rock, Soweto’s premier and ever up-and-coming club, however.

V is for Vindaloo – the best can be devoured at Kapitan’s, in the city centre.

W is for Winter – I’m over it. Officially.

X is for X-ray Vision – I have a gift. I can see whether a man has nice legs through his jeans.

Y is for Y-Fronts – male doondies that should be burned en masse. Especially when they come in those Woolies 3-colour packs. (Paisley, Russian Reds and square patterns.)

Z is for Zzzzz – Sleep is always welcome. We spend a third of our lives doing it.