it's a high heel day

Things that are awesome

Weddings. Where there are unexpectedly surprising incentives, including a new marshmallow pink silk dress for the occasion, I’m so excited. Better shave my legs.

Globes.
The ones that spin. So when you choose a mid-year holiday you have a shithot view of the countries you’re considering in 3D. Any suggestions? I’m leaning towards France, but the economic crunch is making me turn to Biral for emotional support. Places I’m considering in May:

Contiki in Scandinavia. Northern lights, Absolut vodka, people called Sven, that sort of thing.

Skiing in Switzerland. Not so much fun on your own, but I’ll make mates, this is for certain. (I am so grateful for my last holiday. Although on my ace, I was never alone. It’s made me braver.) By the sounds of things I could go skiing in London though, and accommodation wouldn’t be an issue. Might be cheaper to ski down Portobello Road in Notting Hill.

Eyebeefa. In a velour tracksuit. Not this year.

A friend’s condo in Costa Rica. Not even kidding, a definite consideration. Just a bit of a mission getting there.

Vegas. Awesome, except not. Must rule out places with crazy exchange rates.

Gabon. A bit dangerous maybe. But I laugh in the face of danger. (Once I’m indoors and stuff)

Russia. Better bust out me old thermals.

A fuck off week in the south of France. Bankruptcy.com, and possible annihilation by a Francophile who eats garlic snails.

Idols Haven’t watched this for years, but when a dude picks up his cellphone in the middle of singing, and when another bird is screaming, ‘…And I am YOUR LADEEEEEEEEEEE, and you are my MANNNNNNNNNN’ to the point where my television is reverberating off its surface and about to shake its way onto the floor with a resounding crash, I’m thinking: Now that’s entertainment.

Work. I’m turning focus towards work in a rather manic, all-encompassing way. Do love what I do though, so am refocusing on getting excited to go into the office everyday. Do I sound unbalanced?

The Colony Video Spot. I can walk there, they’re getting to know me by name, and don’t cast judgement (at least not on a surface level…maybe they are. But they’re at least pleasant about it) for all the Friends series I’ve been renting lately.

My hammock. It’s strung across my balcony. I can view my eaves – gosh that sounds romantic – doesn’t that sound romantic? - from a horizontal position.

Voting. I think the latest IEC campaign on TV is brilliant. ‘If you don’t vote, you can’t complain.’ It’s a goodie. Check if you’re registered to vote here.

Things that are shit

Crazy car accidents on highways. Saw a bugger on the way to the Vaal on Friday night. Sitting on the Soweto off-ramp shitting that I’d be smash and grabbed, while waiting for the 5 ambulances, 2 fire engines, 8 Metro cops and 6 piled up cars to clear out of the way. One foils the urge to mock charge.

Living in Leeds, UK. Haven’t been there, but the last time I checked out the window, it sure looks like it.

Stephen Clarke. Edgier than Bryson, cockier than Mayle. He has a few novels out with France and Merde as the main subject matter. They’re fucking hilarious. Oh wait, that’s not a shit thing. It’s meant to be in the list above.

The gym. I have one next door to my office. Getting there takes a drive and general ambition for physical fitness, something I am not good at. Fuck. I want to go. I want to tighten the fuck up. Just actually going is a whole other concept altogether.

Dreams about ghosts strangling you Holy mother of God. The entire night I dreamt that everytime I fell asleep a ghost would try to asphyxiate me with my own duvet. I was so scared I forced myself to lie awake most of the night. Good God.