Pancakes for dinner

I was craving pancakes yesterday. So, I rushed home, whipped up a batch and then had it for dinner. I can't say how very proud I am of myself for doing that! It's not like it was really my choice though, because there's very little that can come between me and one of my cravings. But since pancakes for dinner is not an every day occurrence it was a good break from the monotony of the week. Wednesdays can be a serious drag and yesterday was a corker. For a minute I did have a moment of insanity and thought, "Ja, but, should you really be having pancakes for dinner?" Fortuntely, I was able to snap back into a more reasonable frame of mind, "If not pancakes, why not pancakes?"

5 seconds later

Another 5 seconds later

then ...

... nothing!

Tea and Choc Pudding

I finally got a teapot which is great because now I can properly enjoy the amazing tea from o'ways! Also, it's a much better match for the china teacups that Carmen so kindly gave me as a gift. These teacups also became the very lucky recipients of the chocolate pudding I made over the weekend. I get weak kneed just thinking about it. It's not sweet at all because it's made with dark chocolate and I really can't think of any sort of eloquent way in which to describe it! Really there aren't any words just inappropriate uhmmmmsss and ahhhhhs. Uhm :) Try the recipe- chocolate pudding!!! No surprises that it's Nigella's handiwork :)

The Twilight Saga

I only recently started watching Twilight. I remember a few years ago, not even being able to watch a few minutes without gagging.  To my surprise I actually found the adventures of the taciturn, sparkly vampire and his buddies rather entertaining, to a point. I can’t claim to be the biggest fan out there, or even a fan, but I can definitely sympathise with those who have had to say goodbye to Bella and Edward, and all the other ones, in Twilight – Breaking Dawn Part II. However, I’ve heard, that there are talks about more instalments to come.

The Twilight Saga – Brunch

In this instalment Bella and Edward have brunch. They come down to a lavish spread of delicious baked goods, organic fruit, orange juice and freshly brewed coffee. But, because they’re vampires they don’t eat! Instead, they talk about how much fun it would be if they could eat. Also, Edward’s Dr Dad comes up with a serum which means the Cullen’s no longer have to ingest blood to survive. This means no more hunting and killing, proving that vampires can get more boring.

The Twilight Saga – Nap Time

Here Edward and Bella’s daughter, who is named after the capital of Iceland, is about to take a nap. However, she is only allowed to do so after she admits to killing one of her “friends”. But, wait, it’s okay, because in a vision she saw that this girl was going to be a serial killer one day. Also, there’s a great twist to this instalment, because remember(?) – vampires don’t sleep, or kill or do anything really.

Now the final instalment is a collaborative effort bringing together three worlds of fantasy. It will be called –

Hotel Middle Earth

Gandalf and Frodo open a hotel in Middle Earth after seeing the great tourist potential. Bella and Edward go there for their 100^th year anniversary and run into Harry Potter, whose just there! Nothing really happens, so you can see this film is primarily influenced by the twilight series. Harry, Gandalf and Frodo do get very drunk and do karaoke though.

Reasons why I HATE Valentine's Day?!

This post was going to be about how much of sham Valentine’s Day is. It would’ve gone something like this:

V-Day blah, blah, commercialism. Blah, blah, blah materialistic, nothing to do with love. Bah – ugly lingerie, cheap chocolates and bad poetry!

My argument was to be based on the premise that v-day falls on just another day of the week. Then I thought how different is this to celebrating a birthday, for instance? So, I tried a different tack – why should love be celebrated on one day, designated by someone else?! This one was failing to convince me too. Then I had to admit to myself that I am not averse to anything that could potentially bring people together and make them happy. I’m down with that! In fact, the tacky side of me, the side that loves reality tv, also loves ugly lingerie and bad poetry. Although I always appease hipster me by self-righteously mocking the lacy, red negligee in Edgars, I can’t help but wonder what it would look like if I tried it on. In her song, Fuck & Run, Liz Phair puts it nicely, “I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas.” I’m with Liz on that. Getting flowers, a gift, a card, whatever - is lovely.

I think my problem arose out of the fact that I’ve been particularly moody lately and anything pink, red, pink&red and heart shaped just seemed to stoke the fire of my grumpiness. I could always claim V-Day for myself, you know, like, by doing something alone. Uhmmm ... affirming my singleness i.e. independence and all that stuff. I don’t think so! JC Le Roux can find someone else to hang out with. I do feel it’s just one of them days that you need to celebrate with someone, a real person, not a bottle with that person’s name on it. Having said that I’m not going to start boiling bunnies and stalking Michael Douglas, I simply do not have the time. Also, the thing is, even though I know I am too good for him, I’d gladly allow Ryan Gosling to play his ukulele for me, while I dance – badly, of course! It’s the only way I know how. 

So, that pause was supposed to be dramatic

Ja, I had found my 1st grey hair in the same department store where I had come shopping, as a child, for Christmas clothes, with my mother and sister.I was pretty unaffected. I was actually rather surprised that I hadn't thrown myself on the floor and broken into a hysterical fit of sobs. Usually I relish any opportunity to behave like a sexually frustrated woman from the 19th century, my corset of course being my grey hair.

Rather, I was mildly annoyed by the fact that one of the dresses I'd tried on was out of my price range. Bugger the glamourous yet low paying world of administration. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that in my being-an-adult frenzy I'd gotten a job. For months I'd been living in my own place, supporting myself. High five me, right?! Hmmm yes, I guess, a rather tired, belaboured high five. Although very happy to have the means to feed and cloth myself, I had no idea how tough working would be. Not just the work itself, but the office politics. My desk became a good friend, I often sat under it.

I suffered from an extreme case of naivety, which was promptly allayed by a large dosage of reality. Being the big ball of emotion that I am, the reality of working in a place where you feel that you're only valued for what you do was starting to get me down. As a result I adopted a new look - tired and drained. I was also able to hone and fine tune one of my few talents - complaining. This did not, however, stop me from having insane bouts of optimism. What I like to call I-know-I-can moments on meth! These would often manifest in the form of baked goods. Oh, the disappointment that was to follow.

At this point all I wanted to do, most days, was stay in bed and pretend the world and especially my office world did not exist. Having tasted the fruits of independence though, I was not going to let it go. So, I'd drag my grumpy ass out of bed and this would continue on the train and into my office, throughout the day. I'm sure my colleagues really appreciated it, I have an awesome suur gesig, it makes lemons cringe.

For awhile I simply blamed my sadness on the bureaucracy that is an ever present feature in all organisations. Yes, I was able to avoid taking responsibility for my miserable attitude by blaming the fat man on top; this being both a figurative and literal fatness. Also, bringing me to the question: What is it with me and fat men? Anyway, my disillusionment lay partly in the fact that I felt I wasn't really being seen as anything other than an admin assistant. And, to be quite honest, I really wasn't  too great at what I was doing. Just imagine that the one thing you're valued for is also, probably, the one thing you MOST suck at. Ouch!

In the process I’d forgotten to look at what was good about my job, one of the most important factors being my colleagues. A simple pleasant exchange in the kitchen or chuckle in my office was often what would turn a kak day into a good one. One day a colleague of mine, Carol Gainer and I, were chatting in my office. She told me about this dress she owned, but thought would suit me better; she’d bring it the next day for me, to have! This could’ve been the ugliest dress in the world, because here she was giving something to someone she didn’t know, without wanting anything in return.

Let me tell you it was NOT the ugliest dress in the world. It was/is pretty awesome.  Obviously, I tried it on and paraded around the office, showing off my awesome dress to anyone who would put up with my ridiculousness. I was being ridiculous and it felt good! I remembered one of the reasons I so love dresses – it’s being five years old again and playing dress up. Doing this didn’t make me any less grown up. I still had bills to pay, loads of dirty washing to clean and a less than desirable bank balance. But what this made me see was that being “grown-up”, or at least the way I characterised it, is totally overrated. Because I love polka dots, cupcakes, Christmas beetles, jumping on the bed, falling on my ass and all the other innumerable stupid little things that are just that: stupid, but lovely. Now I have one more thing to add to this list – putting on musical note dress, with red heels :)

 




                                                      

A Dress: A Magical Thing Part II - When Carol Gainer made my Day

When I first conceived of this blog I had imagined that it would be about fashion. My first blog here was to lay the foundation for what my overly ambitious mind thought would be a fun, quirky, but still intelligent, sorry highly intelligent, means of illustrating a different approach to fashion. Mixing the old with the new, vintage with the latest trends, wait(!) this sounds familiar - it is every single fashion blog out there, twelve year olds are doing it! So, basically, what I really wanted was to show everyone how cool I was.

Little did I know that the old in mixing old and new would eventually become me. I no longer needed to trawl the 2nd hand shops of Cape Town in order to find that perfect vintage top, my sexy saggy 27yr old boobs would do. Adding to my discontent was the fact that I had recently come out of a relationship with a fat Namibian and as a consequence of lack of intelligent conversation and satisfying sex I had put on a few kilos. You see my blog was suppossed to be filled with fabulous pictures of me, looking fabulous in ensembles and dresses I had put together. Everyone was to think that it was, well, FABULOUS! Instead of feeling F for FABULOUS, I felt F for FAT. FAT. FAT!

There was no way I was going to parade my dimply ass in front of a camera, pretending I felt confident when I didn't. And, looking back I really wasn't even fat, just disappointed that the highlight of my former relationship was watching my ex eating McDonalds, in the car, while he was driving.

As a result of unforeseen weight gain and loss of confidence I just let my blog go wherever I felt like letting it go. And, for awhile, that was nowhere, because that's where I was going, sitting on my couch, watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit - Du, du, du, du, DUM!

Clothes no longer made me feel what they used to. By this time I had amassed some pretty awesome dresses. I remembered really thinking of my collection as my own little treasure. The sentimental part of me imagined oneday passing it onto my daughter, or son, who I would dress up as a girl anyway.

Of especial value were my 2nd hand dresses. Not only were they cheap, but unique as well. When I would feel sad or down I'd put one on with some heels and prance around my flat. Yes, that's a normal thing to do! However, I had come to a point in my life where this all seemed a bit frivolous and pointless. I had certainly reached one of the epochs of growing up - Being SERIOUS.

So, I began behaving like an adult. I started looking for a job, eating healthy and exercising. I took an interest in such pressing matters as the environment and politics. How could I possibly wear pretty dresses when the rainforests were sad and politicians were being assholes? I even went as far as to clear out the contents of my cupboard. Not only getting rid of things I no longer wanted but certain items I had grown quite attached to.

This entire experience wasn't, however, all bad. For the first time in my adult life(and I use this term loosely) I was beginning to see that I wasn't only to be valued by how I looked and dressed. I'd become so attached and reliant on this idea of who I was, and in the process of continually trying to maintain this I had lost the plot. And, even though all these new ideas were mostly confusing, the most important thing was that I was thinking - like a big person!!!

Fast forward a year or so - I am in the dressing room at Woolworths, trying on dresses, of course! But instead of finding the frock that would epitomise the upcoming Summer of 2013, I find a grey hair. Really, now?!

...