March 2005 Archives

At first, this piece seems mildly interesting, but gets so much better...

Finally, rounding out the group is Bronson Pinchot, best known as the lovable Balki Bartokomous from '80s sitcom Perfect Strangers.

Cousin Balki's back!

My graduation is this weekend, and I won't be there. From what I can tell, the rest of my design class will. While I know that the black gown thing is arbitrary and yes, I will recieve the certificate anyway, I will not be attending my own graduation. This was my decision; it was an easy one in February, but now... I guess I'm just sad I can't be there. And to be honest, it is probably more about the piss-up and the memories than the ceremony.

My boyfriend is now ill too. We are a sorry lot, sitting this morning before work in sick silence. I sniffed for the first time in the morning as I was descending the stairs to the bathroom and almost dropped to the ground - I had disturbed the thick foggy mess inside my ear-nose-throat cavity and my balance was shot for a few seconds. I don't exactly know what kind of bug it is that causes these colds, or why we STILL don't have a cure for the fucker (it's quickly adaptive, I guess) but it is a malcious little thing. It's not meningitis but it's a sinister little bug; it's just bad enough to make you feel HORRIBLE but okay enough to mean you still have to go to work. The throat pain stage is diminishing, cue the wolfman cough stage to begin.

Is what it's all about, people. Like, when you found that last time you wanted the Pralines & Cream and so did he, and neither of you wanted the Strawberry Cheesecake as bad as you did the Praline; the next time, you get two tubs, not for sharing, but for solo gorging. With swopping of spoonfuls to know the taste of the other flavor, this works extremely well. I am queen of Haagen Das sharing.

I've found myself compromising on a lot of things. They're not always as a result of a conversation or disgareement about things, but simply from picking things up through living with the other person. Tolerance of the other party goes hand in hand with this; you compromise with the idea that the other person is doing so too.

So when you feel tired and your boyf does not, you find a safe way home and leave the fun stuff to him. And when he kisses you with THAT garlic taste, from the cheap-ass kebaby's down the road... you compromise and smooch him back.

And when you breathe all your throat-cold germs all over him, he compromises and says he doesn't care.

Is this all I can write about? After such an absence, and days of new things at my job, and walking around Croydon looking at brand new people and their brand new ways of living, and formulating half-baked blog posts in my mind, is this seriously all I can muster up? And am I seriously falling into one of those self-reflexive blog posts again? Fuck - this doesn't cut it.

I want to write like him, like her, like anyone but me. I want to be more inspired and feel less like I'm living in a badly run Sims game. Time is so random, so precious right now. I travel 45 minutes either way to get to and from work at the moment, which means that I waste an hour and a half every day on public transport, trying hard to to let other people's lives overlap mine (or at least, their asses overlap onto my seat), which comes up to a grand total of 7 and a half hours a week of grey building grey building grey building flashing by and irritated people and crazy people and wanting to be using this time for something, anything, better.
I should start taking a book on the bus, I guess.

I'm completely devoted to the new-ish Jimmy Eat World Futures album. Polaris is on repeat and will stay there until I've ruined it for myself.

Get down on your knees
Whisper what I need
Something pretty
Something pretty

Tonight is the XFM big bash. I'm hoping it'll be fun, hoping I'll be more energised by the time 9 rolls around, hoping that I can get drunk and sleep and sleep and sleep and wake up and dust this week off.

That's better. I refuse to be such a girl and gush about puppies. I'm going to a rock concert now. Azaah!

PS My living will is that you should keep me alive for as long as possible. Feeding tubes welcome. Okay? Don't flick that switch.

Yes, it is strange. I miss having a dog or dogs at home. Having grown up with the hairy little beasts all my life, it seems logical that I would miss having one; but I really feel sad when I come home and there's no wagging tail and ecstatic drooling at my return.
When I see them on the street, other people's dogs, I have to force myself not to touch them. I saw a beautiful mutt today, as I got onto the tram; not sure of the breed but it was a largish wuffle, grey, and soaked to the skin from the rain earlier on. He had sad eyes and was so good, didn't bark or growl at anyone, and my heart just melted.
I don't miss the dog hair everywhere, and the not being able to sit on the couch if wearing black pants - risking it meant long doggy hair all over your bum (so glam when on the way out for the night) but I do miss the loyalty and fun and playing and soppy lovableness.
I didn't see the soaked dog when I got off the tram, his owner must have left before me. I will think of him all day today. I've always had big dogs; and I've grown to love that if you sit on the floor and they're sitting up, you can look them straight on, and snuggle their neck.

I think I expected living with Ian to be different... more difficult than it has proven to be. While the influence of another female digsmate would be very welcome (not making much headway on the toilet roll holder issue), I'm enjoying our digs. We bought bedside cabinets and put them together (well, he put them together while I made encouraging noises) and we mix our washing. We went shopping for groceries today and he joked that it felt 'couply', something which I'm sure he doesn't mind you knowing.
We're fun; we laugh a lot. I think we have to hold on to that - as soon as things become too serious we're going to be in trouble. I love laughing things off with him, and small 'discussions' (they're not at argument level) about our different views on things usually end in some or other quip and we both leave smiling.

While we've both got our eyes open, I can say that in my opinion we're doing pretty damn well. We've waited a long time for this, we've both taken roads that we thought would mean the end of the us we both wanted; by some strange miracle we managed to hold on tightly to the idea of how we could make each other happier. I know that it's all new and shiny right now, but I can't escape feeling a little bit high when I see him at the end of the day, and I'm not about to stain that with any form of doubt or fear.

She sprained her ankle, poor girl, but she's here, that's what counts.

What a great weekend! Just because my sneaky boyfriend posted about it first and took all the good photos *grrr* doesn't mean I can't add my spin.

Seeing Stonehenge was great - I think just seeing it from the road is what struck me the most, it just appears right in front of you without warning (well, if you ignore enough road signs it will). I'm told that it's worth going to see during the solstice, but as we approached the place and Ian asked if we should actually go the whole hog and do the walk around it, I felt sad at the knowledge that sometime in the future I'll have been here too long and have become so blase that I won't want to do anything vaguely touristy - Knysna syndrome, in my experience, anyway. So we went for it, and despite it being smaller than all the images I've seen of the place suggested to me, I enjoyed it.

The best was by far Old Wardour Castle, it really did top everything. We're going to have to go back for the tour (missed it by 5 minutes) but we managed to be very sneaky and get in to take some pics and see as much as we could in a few minutes. I'm going to havee to see Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves again (apparently his dad is seen hanging in this castle) but it was just so visually stunning in the sunlight (the little bit we did manage to catch was gorgeous) that I honestly felt a bit moved by the place. I loved getting out of London to see more than before, to see something green and some open space. Intense.

So I start a temping job tomorrow, just a 2 day stint, not the major one from the last post (that starts next week Wednesday) - it's good to know there's going to be some £££-age coming in and it's not entirely spend spend spend on my part.

That's right folks, I got the position. It's only a temporary spot, but it has possible permanent prospects. I think it was the eighties ponytail I cracked yesterday - can never pull this hairstyle off, and as I tried it yesterday morning, it worked! I credit my hair for getting the position. That said, I did a good job of supporting my hair during the interview, so I should recieve some kudos... so my hair took me shopping for clothes and shoes. And I returned the favour by taking a photo post-getting-the-job so I could forever remember that once, yes, the hairstyle worked.

Okay, it's not the highest eighties attempt! Do I look employed, huh? Ian attributes my getting the job to the earrings. I laughed, as though I thought it a silly and sweet jab at my obsession... but thanked them quietly as I took them out last night... now it's not so much a jewellery case as a shrine...

Ian and I are going out tonight, not sure where or when, but probably taking my little lamb Lau and her boyf with, should be good fun. Meeting the Sevitz!

Yes, I do from time to time.

The British:

1. Are very lucky to live where they do, and yet tend to get worked up about the state in which they live. I, for example, think that the tube is very clean. Public transport in South Africa (the little of it I have experienced)... well, not so much on the clean part. Yet, I've heard that they think it's horrible. Must investigate further.

2. Have a great selection of products in their stores. I must say, 'twas a very difficult thing to move away from the Cadbury's Creme Eggs* today, but there are just so many varieties of one thing on a shelf. Am I deprived? I do come from Knysna, lest we forget.

3. The men are not scared to be vocal about any feelings of attraction they may have towards you. From a simple 'ello' to your standard hoot and wink to actual leanage out of the window of a moving van, they'll let you know how they feel. What's all this about repressed British men, then? Hugh Grant you LIAR.

That is all on the state of things in Colliers Wood today, kiddies. Off to Croydon for my very first interview tomorrow morning, please all assume the holding thumbs position for me - will inform you when they can be released.

*thank you Ade

Today has been a day of London firsts... okay, so every day is like that right now, but today even more so.

I went on the tube by myself today, changed twice both ways and didn't get lost at all! I'm uber happy with myself; I know it's not rockit-science (ha ha ha) but it's something I've been a tad worried about. There was a bit of a delay on the Northern line this morning though, due to 'a person under a train in Hampstead'. Scary.

Another first - my very very first ever Cadbury's Mini Egg. Very sweet and syrupy, but I just HAD to find out what all the fuss was about. They're nice - but too sweet for more than one, say, every 2 weeks. Which makes me wonder, exactly who is buying the massive boxes of them which are on promotion for easter? Seems like the mystery of Austin Powers' teeth has been solved...

Let's see, I want to write more about this place. It's so very different to home, which I expected, but in ways I never imagined. The cold isn't the biggest change, I think, because you're warned to death about it before you arrive. The people range in personality, as people do the world over, so that's no surprise. One thing - I am completely fascinated by chavs - I keep asking Ian 'is that a chav? Am I dressed somewhat chav-like today?' I have avoided wearing my silver hoops, the signature piece of the chav girl. That, and the baby in white bomber jacket.

Most of all, I think I'm missing the people from home. So far I've met some amazing Saffers here, friends of digsmates and so on. Their accents are often more Brit than Saf, no surprises there. I find I'm saying 'yeah' more often than 'ja' now, just makes conversation easier.

Digs life is going well, everyone's pretty good about keeping the place clean. I did get some resistance upon my suggestion that we install a toilet-roll holder, but from my mind, if we're gonna slack off on that then we might as well buy the yoda-shaped bong and call it a student digs.

Would prefer not to comment on the work situation, other than to say that the spending of my car is going quite nicely, thank you very much. Okay, so there are a few prospects, I'm just steering clear of jinxing myself right now. Next.

Lau gets here tomorrow, but I'll probably only see her on Friday. The sheer choice in earrings is going to knock the girl flat, I just know it.

...if I said I wasn't starting to feel comfortable here. Even the cold is bearable when you buy a great coat. Right now I'm waiting for my man to come home from work. We're going to the Swan tonight for snakebites and fun. This will be a sleepy and ever-so-slightly-touristy weekend.

...if I told you I'm not missing Laurika. The girl is fun, dammit, and I'm about ready to not be the newest Saffer in this cold town.

...if I told myself I was okay with not having a job yet. I will get something great. Ahem. Next week.

And Ian would be mock charging if he was here to hear it. It's so strange that our tastes in music have so diverged - we used to love the same songs, but now I find myself bopping to a song in a shop, only to get that 'OMG, you don't really like this, do you?' look from him. Really people - Snoop is shit hot! Confirm?

So we went to Picadilly Circus last night - forgot the camera like dumbasses. The walk served to confirm that heeled boots won't cut it for very long. The jacket search was pretty fruitless. But it was worth the sights, by far - as I walked out of the tube, Ian said 'turn around', and there were those enormous screens. Brand new shops in age-old buildings. It was cold but I felt great, really great! The tube is growing less scary, just gotta keep remembering to stay on the right hand side.

The best two pieces of advice so far:
Ian - don't come here only to diss the Brits and complain about how it's so different to SA.
Mum - don't be blase - that's blAh-zAy - about it, everything is new, so take it that way, don't be scared to be a tourist.