And this is what you missed - the happy edition.

Guys, I’m suffering from serious writer’s block today. I had one of these weeks that just flowed past with ease, grace, and bubbly. Though I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I think it makes for uninteresting writing. Maybe because I feel little inspired to rub into your face how perfect my week was. I shall anyhow, but just a tiny bit…

I taught lots of classes and got a big head from all the kind words people told me in response. It made me feel truly blessed and this is not a term I use lightly.
V day, the most dreaded day of the year for a single girl, ended over dinner with not one, but two guys. Yes, you heard me and please feel free to envy me, because there was wine and pasta and cupcakes too.
The highlight was probably an unexpected phone call from my Mum giving me some unexpected funding for my Yay-I’m-Going-To-Vietnam-Fund and my Dad who basically emailed me an entire travel guide with food tips already (No thank you! to the fertilized egg omelette though). Thus I have been whistling One Night in Bangkok a bit too much – again!
Then there was also a Biscuit Mill followed by sneaking to a hotel pool afternoon, a bachelorette party, luckily sans penis straws, and a stargazing evening on my balcony.

It seems I am a lucky girl. When I realize that I’m too content to even write much about it, it makes me a happy one as well.

And this is what you missed - in the paper.

I made page 5 of the Weekend Argus!

Not that I did something to deserve it, unless you can call me deserving for being scammed by the evil travel agent. In which case I still think I’d rather deserve my R 16 000 back than my picture in the paper, but I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.
I guess it is still better than ending on page 6 due to a dubious outfit on a red carpet or an illicit affair with a politician, doing the walk of shame from his place in the wee morning hours. But of course the accompanying picture still managed to suck big time, walk of shame or not. I kind of knew that would happen though, even before the photographer arrived at my office and I could feel important for having my picture taken. As we know I hate to have my picture taken and usually there has to be much alcohol involved for me to volunteer. Bit of a task at ten in the morning. Then I got the instructions to gaze sadly out of the window and I knew all was lost. Just the thing I do, every day since it happened, gazing and hoping my money will reappear miraculously on the horizon. But I guess that’s how newspapers work and in all fairness it is not the photographer’s fault that my nose looks huge in the picture. I did after all just tell her to make my double chin disappear, which she did.

My friend in Canada found the online version here. Though it might not be the next Watergate, I’m happy it’s in print. We, the ETAAs (Evil Travel Agent Anonymous), are still keen to get her even beyond Dubai borders – so please spread the story and of course make sure your next e-ticket number is valid for a round trip before you board a plane.

And this is what you missed - belated edition.

As it seems I can’t even make three weeks in my attempt to have a weekly thing here. Sorry, I do try. In my defence all that you missed last week is that I had too much fun and then I got sick. Again. Certified sick, which doesn’t mean I don’t have to work, it merely means that the child has a name. Strep throat. Which I turned immediately into stepthroat because just like stepmother it sounds nice and evil and of course because I can’t spell. No surprise Google wasn’t helpful there in finding a definition for me, the ever eager patient, who didn’t really know what a st(r)ep throat meant. When it finally accepted my purposeful misspelling it gave me this: A disease which may lead to a sore throat. Dah! I could have told you that. What a let-down of definition and not nearly as horrible of a diagnosis as I feel it deserves. But I guess it’s good not to be mortally/stepmotherly ill.

So yes, all you missed is a very mopey, miserable me. As for the fun…you know what happens in Gardens stays in Gardens.

And this is what you missed II.

What got me excited…

 

 

Remember that one? Yes, this was unfortunately playing over and over in my head last week. Probably because I finally decided on my travel destination for August…drum roll please… Vietnam. Yes, I am perfectly aware that Bangkok is not in Vietnam, but the trips I’m currently looking at all start there. So when this song got stuck, I thought it could be exciting to add a crazy night or two in Bangkok to kick-start the adventure.

What made me nostalgic…
My first boyfriend got engaged. It didn’t come as a surprise, yet it still hit me just a little bit. I haven’t really thought about him or even spoken to him in years, but it’s still somewhat strange to realize that he is really and officially not mine anymore and that our plans for happily-ever-after didn’t come true. I guess I just felt sorry for a moment for my former 17-year old me, who so believed in this first love.

What made me pretty…
On Saturday I got a haircut at The Lobby for the first time. I was a bit scared upon walking in; if there was ever a place made in hipster heaven this is it. But to my surprise I learned that you can still entrust your hair to a stylist who is so hip(ster) that he wears a little hat while he cuts your hair and serves BOS ice tea. My hair now looks awesome and yes, I let it down big time at night!

What made me sad…
You also missed my Mum’s birthday yesterday. And so did I. I hate the fact that I am always far apart from at least half my family, especially on those days when there is roast beef and bubbles. Happy happy, Mami!

And this is what you missed.

I decided to start my very first weekly installment here. Mainly to get some discipline into my writing I guess and just because I can. So I will give you each Monday And this is what you missed last week…
On Tuesday night I dreamed that I was man. A man including all the important bits. To make things even more exciting weird, me and my bits were in a swinger club/mansion. It made me realize how it must suck to be a man at times. And by times I mean when you get excited and prefer for nobody else to know (i.e. owner of the swinger club/mansion showing me around and obviously noting my…ehm…interest).

On Thursday I realized that watching a movie which reminds me of my teenage years The Perks of Being a Wallflower in combination with a strawberry-gin slushee and a date at the Labia makes me behave and feel like a teenager again. In a very good, the parents are out of the house, way.

After secretly making fun of my intern as she started looking a bit like an Oompa Loompa due to a dark orange tan I got my first sunburn on Sunday. It hurts; even more so as I tanned unevenly and now look like the Joker. Or Harvey Two Face as my friend chipped in, which are both almost as bad as an Oompa Loompa. It also makes me wonder why Nivea with all their nice smells, hasn’t managed an after sun lotion that doesn’t smell like aftershave. Thus I’m sitting at the office today smelling like boy.

And last but not least I splurged on a ticket to see my first love again – Bon Jovi ♥ you!

And this is what you missed.