Sound the Alarms! Call your friends! I, yes 'all you do is jol' me, had a CHILLED weekend.
Okay, I will admit that it wasn't 'chilled' to the full extent of the word, but chilled when compared to my usual weekend antics.
Thursday held an unexpectedly delightful evening of drinking, laughing, dancing, attempts at singing. On the way home from work I pondered whether it was worth hitting the gym feeling like I did. I even called GB (short for Gym Buddy/Bunny) my regular gym partner and fellow gossip/humour maven. But she was giving it a skip due to an overload of prep she had for a wedding the following day. Needless to say I gave the gym a miss in favour of settling down to the tip-top television viewing that most Thursday's have in store.
Aaaah 90210. Gosh. I feel like a ballie when I reminisce about the original version. I vividly remember the show - my sister and I never missed an episode. We loathed Brenda, wanted to be Kelly and couldn't decide who was better man-candy - bad boy Dylan or cutie Brandon? I was 7 at most - I started young it would seem.
Halfway through the week's episode of the 'new' 90210 Vig texts me. He very aloofly tells me to "get your ass off the couch and get ready. You can watch the repeats on Sunday." Riiight. It helps if one knows as to wear one is going? The Baron in Sandton it is.
This particular Baron is a hive of 20 & 30-somethings all letting their hair down. With the following day being 'Wekka's Day' this Thursday wasn't very different from a regular Friday evening.
Vig and I made our way to the bar to de-parch ourselves and childishly piss ourselves at the bottle of KNOB CREEK Bourbon positioned on the booze display. ha ha ha. Drink now in-hand, we walk over to the outside bar - the perfect vantage point to people watch. There are all sorts in this place, not unlike a watering hole in the animal world.
There's the dude spading so hard that if he spades any harder, he'll land himself in Perth. He thinks he's the ish with his striped lounge shirt and oil-slick hair. Also spotted is this blonde chick that just looks unwashed. She's tried to make an effort, heck she's gone all out in her Red, layered mini-dress from Identity or the-like, it just looks like one of those revolting, mass produced Chinese numbers. It doesn't help her cause that her friend is wearing a dress and an atrocious pair of pumps. Then there's the chap trying so hard t fit in he's bought all of people around him a round, and another, and another... you get it. Our eyes then fall on this poor middle aged woman who is trying harder than all the previously mentioned peeps. She's got this nauseating ruffled, sleeveless, Floral blouse on, tucked into her navy box-cut skirt. She teams that up with a pair repulsive thick-soled sandals of what could only be from the Kelso range at Edgars. Nogal Black. Vig and I fight hard to keep the laughter from disturbing other patrons. Yirrie.
We amble back inside and have a drink with some of Vig's friends, Ouma and Oupa. Ouma and I start discussing work and she lets on she works for a company that does artificial nails, a top brand at that. She tells me how quickly she put the set she's wearing on. I promise to give the set I got free with my April issue of Cleo a try. We're then summoned to the bar for a tequilsh. Arrrrrrriiiiiiba. You know the tequila song was sung. Fo sho.
Post Tequilsh and Oupa is playfully grabbing his girlfriend, Ouma's boob. She swats him off. We laugh. He's boozed and she's ever the lady. "Oh no" she screams, "I've lost a nail". Crisis. I know what its like as a female to have a broken, cracked, chipped nail. Not cool. So we commit to finding the damn thing, to no avail. I, in jest, comment on how hysterical it would be if the nail landed in someone's drink, or worse still, their food. A few minutes later we're getting the next round and urging Oupa to finish his Peroni Draught and lo behold the said nail floats quaintly in the remainder of his beer. Funniest thing. Laughs all round. Oupa doesn't seem to mind either. Good times.
I do it again later that evening when a guy Vig and I had spotted and singled out for his uber tight jersey earlier in the eve (although I didn't mind much as there was a evidece of a yummy muscular form underneath it) and as we passed him Vig commented that he sounded Australian. "His name's Bruce" I jokingly respond. True, as Lindt Choccies are delicious, Ouma is talking to him later and we ask who he is. "My dad's best friend's son, Bruce". WTF? Hilaaaaaaaarious! I'm psyhic.
The next morning we had planed to hit Lusito Land or Lose-it Land as my Bro-in-law Dinks likes to refer to it. Why you may ask? Well its simple: you either lose tons of money, your dignity, your wallet, your watch, your boyfriend/girlfriend. Due to the shoddy weather we decide a trip to the new Melrose Arch Piazza is in order - Kat and I will meet Vig, Bigger Greek Semolina Biskuitjie and Lil Greek Semolina Biskuitjie at Tasha's.
Vig dishes the dirt about his poor boss, who, the previous week, was giving him 100 shades of hell and he had no idea why. Turns out this poor chick's now ex-boyfriend, was leading a double life. This unassuming Accountant-type had plastered adverts all over gumtree for boy-on-boy, boy-on-girl action for a number of obscene acts he wanted to perform and apparently did over a course of 6 years during their 9 year relationship, details of which you'll need to ask Vig as he got the info straight from the horse's mouth. Crisis. What does one do when one finds out ones partner is into all sorts of kinky ish? I have the feeling I may off the doos. My giddy aunt.
Friday night was spent with Debjer and Kat with a special appearance by Ket! Debjer and I made an appearance at a farewell for a friend who was heading to Washington D.C. for a year. We met Kat and Ket who were having dinner with some other friends at Rhapsody's. Been ages since we'd been there. Ket didn't seem herself and made a quiet exit to get home to her Bosch.
As soon as I get there I'm greeted with someone saying: "I'm Diabetic Boy's cousin from the UK." Whoa, um how on earth did you know I was his ex-girlfriend? How did you recognise me if we've never set eyes on each other? Aaaaah, that divine invention that is Bookface. Fun times were had by all, with special guest appearance by Admin boy whom I haven't seen since Woodstock (even showed me his new tat - must say very sexily done) and an Acapella performance of "Would I lie to you" by Debjer. Tick.
The rest of the weekend was spent pretty much vegetating, eatingand attempts at studying for my Economics exams next Tues, with the exception of an impromptu coffee with Portuguese Petal and Met 'n 'k'. Portuguese Petal asked us to be bridesmaids at her wedding on the 10th of the 10th 2010. Wow. Feel so special and so honoured. Tear. I've known her for so long, and no matter how long we don't see each other for, we always get straight back into being the besties we are. I'm soooo happy that her dreams are coming true and can't wait to share the experience with her. Plus you know she'll be getting one helluva Batchelorette's! Can't wait!
I feel horrendous for not hitting the gym at all last week, actually I feel like a fat f*ck but all with good cause. I was pretty chesty at the coast, the three other members of the awesome can vouch for me, and I wasn't feeling altogether myself. Plus, my Adidas Climacool trainers were horrendously dirty, so dirty I was embarrassed to wear them. It actually boggles my mind how, in an indoor environment, without falling down or letting every Tom, Dick & Harry stand on them, they get so revoltingly grim! Urgh!Well anyway, Dirty trainers are now a thing of the past. You see, I bartered with our household executive: Two 2l bottles of Indian Ocean sea water (kindly collected in Toti by trusty ol' DB & Champ) in exchange for clean trainers. Actually, I think the dirty trainers excuse was sufficient...yes again that dirty.
And with that I'm off to do 100 laps around the track and 1000 stomach crunches. Right...
Later
H x
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