Monday, August 17, 2009
Summer is getting its freak on. Finally.
My jones is back, and admittedly, it’s probably down to the fact that my spray-on tan that put the ‘tan’ back into tangerine. It seems to have escalated a few things.
I had a very sociable weekend. I’m wearing dresses and heels again, and we all went a bit minna minna minna mental two nights in a row.
You know it’s been a good two days when:
1) You wake up to find a bunch of plastic fruit in your handbag. Nice mix too – a banana, a realistic-looking furry peach, a pear and an orange.
2) Your memory is jogged by the clearly pilfered fruit basket, and at some point in the night remembered you lunged the peach, and now it has a bite out of it.
3) And this all happened at a white trash party at Kitchener’s. Haven’t had this kind of night since Poen and I went through our soap dispenser-zyphing phase on Jolly Roger Wednesdays.
4) You spent the entire weekend with boys. Which means you’re laughing most of the time.
5) I was a tourguide to my German friend, who showed me and Dove around Berlin so nicely. So just did chilled things with him in Joburg, and tried to show him the best aspects of a city I am no longer interested in.
6) It was actually very good for me. The weather this weekend was astoundingly wonderful, so it wasn’t hard to appreciate Joburg for a change.
7) Doc had a party, which involved me and B chasing away a French guest with our blasphemous bastardisation of his language in front of him.
8) Being Beatrix from Bournemouth (she’s officially my new alter-ego – comes out after a few toots - and it’s unstoppable. Sometimes not in a good way,) and having some dude come up to me and say ‘wha’? WHA’?’ the whole night.
9) Head to Soweto with a fun bunch of chaps yesterday, wrap my chops around a juicy piece of meat and pap at Wandies, and experience an open concert in Thokoza Park – partly for the German’s sake, partly for something different to do.
My mate put bullet vests in the car. I jest it not. I thought that was a nice touch. Didn’t tell the German though, and they were jammed under the seat, so any element of surprise, like a taxi fight, and well, we’d die, but it was a nice touch.
The brothers that came with us are seriously two of the most quality people I’ve met, and so funny, I spent the afternoon in hysterics. Too much fun.
On a pistachio and water diet for the next 4 days, in hope, that I’m acceptably bikini ready for Mozambique on Friday.
But I just have to say: I’m rather chuffed with myself, on another note, of how sensible I am. In various scenarios at the moment. Maybe rationality and better judgment is one of the cooler things about getting old.