My Joburg boy

I met him when I was 23 on my first official office job. The years before I had spent travelling and then working as a sales rep for a liquor company. The nine to Five stint was going to take some getting used to. He was a fast talker. Afrikaans, dressed incredibly smart for his age. Everything about his look suggested a serious young man, brought up adhering to strict standards and ready to conquer the banking world – but his eyes, they were full of delightful mischief. He took me under his wing, despite being a couple of years younger than I, and showed me the ropes. Before long we were willingly working the night shift, out night after night partying up a storm until the early hours of the morning. A fellow Scorpio, a fellow creature of the night, always wanting more, extremism to the highest point of exaltation. As our careers developed, our friendship developed into a flirty,  fun relationship, which everyone in the office witnessed and envied. We would have our cigarette breaks together and just sit and laugh at the most inane things. He made my work day fun. A thousand phone calls, he always had an idea in his head and I loved his impulsiveness. He wouldn’t just talk – he would act and act bravely – diving in head first. I always hoped that this courage would rub off eventually. We had a similar work ethic at that time, when I wanted to burn the midnight oil working on a project I loved, he was right there. Sometimes invading my PC , all applications closed except for notepad and ‘HELLO’ written in Bold.

Suddenly through sheer hard work, he became brilliant in his field and left to conquer the world. I will never forget how my heart sank when he walked out the building. It had been the most special work relationship I had ever had.

We have stayed in touch and I am not surprised to get a phone call from him, saying he is in CT for a couple of hours , inevitably I drop everything to see him, even if it is a fast coffee down the road.

Last week it was different, he was here for a night and a day – I knew this was going to be trouble! My friend has grown into a sexy, successful man. He still rages, is impulsive and has endless woman problems. I love him to bits.

I felt that same sadness, like the day he left work, on the way to the air port. He had a bottle of Fairview Cab in one hand, cigarette burning in the other. Trance music loudly paying in the car – Telling me about the party he went to in Amsterdam. Conversations flying, ideas, thoughts, plans, travel arrangements a thousand things happening at once. A typical Joburg ride. My heart sank saying goodbye to man who beats me in energy, enthusiasm and sheer craziness.

I didn’t sleep at all last night. Not even for a minute. It was a combination of the super resilience of the most persistent mosquitoes that ever lived, a busy mind and an utterly exhausted body. I think the party may just be catching up to me. I have a Doctor’s note booking me off for the rest of the week – but I also have some crazy deadlines at work and an exam to study for and write. I wish I could have a dose of that mosquitoes’ super powers.

 

Today I was also given permission to be a queen bitch, I am apparently too soft and accommodating. Why now…why when I am at my weakest?

 

God my writing sucks at the moment – I wish this constant desire to talk to myself would stop for a while…

Self reprimand

First thing I saw this morning was my white bikini lying on the floor, it was like my uniform this weekend! Shucks going to work was a hard thing to do, seeing my pool was worse. Summer totally kills any desire for a honest days work!

Sense: “So crazy lady,  I hope you stayed in and had a calm weekend like you promised yourself you would?”

Madness: “Well…”

Sense:  “You are going to get your ass into so much trouble one day!”

Madness:”I had reasons to celebrate – a lovely Lebanese dinner, very efficiently sorted out my birthday arrangements… I have lost weight – which is totally bizarre! I don’t really know how it happened – next thing I knew; I was in the city having a whale of a time! I think I can blame Vit B injection…”

Sense:  “Then you had a hangover the whole Saturday no doubt – rendering you useless.”

Madness: “Which wasn’t actually such a bad thing – I couldn’t go shopping, so I saved a fortune – and lay by the pool all day getting a marvelous tan.”

Sense:  “Then probably arrived three hours late for your evening with Rox and the Twitter ladies? Crazy, mad irresponsible cow – I don’t know how people put up with you sometimes…”

Madness: “It was such a lovely night towards the end and I met a cute Viking…”

Sense:  “Whose name you can’t remember…”

Madness: “I know it started with R, he called at a really bad time yesterday.”

Sense:  “What -  between the sixth or seventh glass of bubbly at JC Le Roux?”

Madness:” Yesterday was Hectic! Saw the ex, went to wine farms, had a swim in a big fake rock pool.”

Sense:  “And blew your fortune previously saved on cases of wine. Cases?”

Madness: “Well my birthday is coming up…”

Sense:  “CASES???”

Sense:  “You did one good thing.”

Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Grand Daddy – Popcorn, popping candy, sherbet with a straw, a glass of red, blankets – intermission and the loveliest people.

Yes that was quite marvellous – a virtuous way indeed to end the weekend!

No half measures here

Throughout the day, my mind kept slipping. In a direction I wish it hadn’t. I struggle enough with Sundays – this train of thought would never end at a joyful destination. Eight years, eight years…surely he remembers. It was this time last year that the unthinkable starting to form shape in my mind. In beginning, it was a bit of a fantasy – leaving him and I won’t lie, up to the very day I left, there was something in me that believed he would stop me – despite this kind of confrontation being so outside his character – it would be laughable. Still I believed…like I still do…in this allusive love thing – love like Fanta – As Po put it –in her quirky synopsis of unrequited love.

Sometimes I worry I will be hit with a sudden realisation that I have made a terrible mistake – that the world is cruel and hateful and mean – and when one finds a companion strong enough to deal with you,  you should really just hold on with your life. Luckily I have met enough people to show me otherwise. I have met the most interesting men – my God from all walks of life – I had no idea men could be so different, with such an array of quirks and attributes. The two most dominant males in my life are of course my Dad and my Brother. These are strong, intelligent men – men who are simply men – my ex was very similar – in behaviour but perhaps not with the same generosity and family minded sincerity – he was more of a lone thinker, a non conformer who worked on his own – for himself. Him and him alone. (Hindsight, like a broken light bulb).

It’s been seven months now – gave up my home, gave up my man, and gave up smoking. There is a price I pay for having courage of my convictions. The nights when I am alone with my thoughts, the space in my mind where there are no half measures. No one around to give me that look – that says – get serious asshole! It’s quite a perk having a boyfriend that kind of has to pretend to listen to you moan about stuff – even a deaf ear has to be better than talking to yourself – or having those thoughts dance in your head, thoughts colliding with ideas, ideas spinning around self doubt, uncertainty bashing into corrective platitudes – all resulting in quite an exhausting symphony of chaos…

Then I miss the friends I don’t make by not smoking, the flirting, and the gossiping that can only happen around an ashtray standing in the sun – as gorgeous as that sounds!

Halloween – pumpkin time.  This also means my birthday is round the corner.  My favourite month is about to begin. The month of the Scorpio – the sexiest star sign! (I am happy to report that Google has also confirmed what I have known all along!)

No bias there.

Someone at work just gave me the sweetest compliment – I was caught so unaware I am currently three shades of pink…

Its all in the YAY and TGIF

Mmmn that itchy feeling. Time to get into the sun. Beach, MCC, sushi – summer.

I didn’t start the day well – not at all, but now I have an increase letter to celebrate, a lovely friend to meet, a social experiment and a bruise on my backside from my third Vit B injection!

I have made peace with lady that makes me feel short – I think it is because it is Friday after all and I am feeling the love, for all and sunder…

It’s been a frivolous week outside of work – now to just top it up, end it right! Time to go LARGE!

May the adventures never end…

It has been another really bad day at the office. I am getting somewhat defiant in my attitude which I know isn’t helping. I just hate being apologetic – especially when it is for things out of my hands. Luckily my boss is cool and allows me to scream at him behind closed doors – letting him know how much working with women is slowly killing me dead. His solution for me is to do more yoga.

On the bright side of life, I am dinning at the Twelve Apostles this evening. It is becoming somewhat of a ritual to have dinner with these people over from Joburg – I do believe they enjoy my company, especially after a couple of glasses of wine. Last year it was Salt – which was truly spectacular – but I haven’t eaten at the Twelve apostles yet and I am sure the view is going to accompany a glass of Chardonnay exceptionally well.

Last night’s dinner was awesome. HQ fillets and Caveau’s beautiful courtyard and brilliant service from my favourite blond waitress. The HQ salad of lettuce, shavings of parmesan, oil and pine nuts – is so surprising awesome for such a simple dish – Cafe de Paris sauce and steak fillets cooked to perfection! A wine I never thought much of before, was actually a great fit for the meat dishes – Terra del Capo; Pinot Grigio. Not expensive, crisp with low acidity. Not too shabby at all! (I think my standards may have slipped, I also found myself drinking fanta orange and vodka last weekend…but that is a whole other story!)

Okay time to get my ass out of here – to yoga, then the sea…

Office trash

It is so much easier waking up in the morning to sunlight. It’s almost like I forgot I had a view. The only crime about days like today; warm, still, dazzling and clear is having to sit in the office all day. This new chicken has started working in my team. She is enormously tall,  with this scratchy accent that ruins my day. Then she is always wearing these strappy sandals with a miserable excuse of a heel. Every morning: Click clack click clack – buy new shoes woman!!!!  Then there is this attitude, this awful attitude that some woman develop in a world they would like to dominate and haven’t realised yet that it will never happen. It is an inability to read people, an undeniable ignorance and short-sightedness that angers me to the highest degree! She read me all wrong. Oh dear, landed herself in a pile of thorns, which I have no interest in clearing just yet – I am not here to make friends! She has also befriended my other colleague and there is a large volume of gossip and  chit chat occurring in each other’s laps – Arg, such sophomoric behaviour just pisses me off – to be quite frank! We communicate through emails – polite words with underlying spitting contempt. When I greet her in the morning – I fear my face cracking under the pressure of having to smile. I know its indignation – a female on my turf. To make matter worse she’s  little miss freaking organisation. Sending us her project plan guidelines and scheduling weekly update meetings – which I have not and simply will not attend – just yet… For some reason she has decided she needs to remind me about my own deadlines…my blood boils…

I am starting to wonder if I am simply not a team player – I really would rather work on my own.. This pettiness is energy sapping.

Good thing is I have a very busy week ahead. I have dinner with the Greeks tonight…every night is happily accounted for – so as I leave this place of horrid little girls I can be quickly distracted!!

Home heart and bricks

I think the best part of the day was swinging a pick axe and actually breaking rock. There is something sublimely honest and satisfying working with raw materials, using your own strength and watching bricks and mortar start to resemble a home. Mixing cement is a BITCH! My God I had no idea it was such hard work, then the wind – cement powder flying everywhere, off cuts from the roof falling on my head, a wheelbarrow full of sand landed on my legs. As much as I loathed my illuminous yellow hardhat, as a fashion accessory – that piece of equipment saved my life on many occasions. It was fascinating and gruelling and no there was no distinction made between the type of jobs the males and females were issued – I have to admit, after passing what seemed like the hundredth tile to the guy on the roof – I almost wanted to cry out – For GodSakes man I am a woman – I am not cut out for this – but of course with my pride I wouldn’t dare. In the end I managed. After a bath I was then off to Bantry Bay to see the Greek side of my family! Well from a township and shacks to one of the most palatial, opulent homes I have ever been in – it was quite an amazing experience! From Dust to Mother of Pearl in the space of a couple of hours. My Aunts bedroom was bigger than the entire home we built!

It’s the weekend – I am shocked to the very core that I am still at work! The night awaits!

Hello

Monday morning. I am wearing glasses, there just isn’t time or coordination available to put in contacts. Mornings like this only black and white will do – I am looking a bit like a psychotic, over worked secretary with really big hair. Of course it is the morning that my gorgeous *Marlboro man of a neighbour steps into the lift with me.

It took us nine months of living side by side, exchanging cursory greetings and mindless chats about the weather – for us to finally exchange names. (This of course happened when I was in the lift late at night after a salsa class and he too had a bit of an intoxicating twinkle in his eyes.) This man absolutely fascinates me – he always looks fresh, yet rugged at the same time– always appears to be on his way to climb a mountain – his faithful beautiful sheepdog at his side. I envy his freshness, energy, and this easy lazy sexiness. But I also know, beyond all doubt, I would probably never make a suitable Marlboro man companion.

No – not me who missed most of the daylight hours in a dreamy haze of laziness and then making up for it in the evenings. God I had fun though. Terrible wicked, sexy fun. I needed it!

Work had been gruelling and nasty. The type of stress that makes you just want to drown yourself in a bottle of vodka. I wanted to walk out at least three times a day. Instead of attending yoga, a friend and I went to my new favourite spot in the City – The Bascule. I don’t know if it is the sights of the boats on the harbour, or that they stock the best collection of whisky I have ever seen, or maybe it is that you walk through the most amazing wine cellar en route to the bathroom – but the place just exudes opulence, indulgence. A marvellous little den of inequity.

One glass turned into eight and thus began my week. Stress, reports, presentations, deadlines and hangovers. Too little sleep, no yoga and a ship wrecked house! So yes I needed this weekend badly.

I am building a house tomorrow, for humanity, then heading through to Bantry Bay for Supper – and yup I probably wouldn’t give up this life for anything!

*I wish the personification of a manly man / outdoors hero wasn’t so well used and perfected by tobacco companies – I have tried all morning to replace him – but the best I could come up with as an alternative is a Bar One Man – I dunno: a gooey caramel like chocolate slab – just doesn’t work for me!

Long Street

Good old Haarties

*

My parents own a beautiful house in hartebeespoort dam. When I still lived in Joburg I would spend loads of time there. Having parties, or with my family but mostly on my own. I loved the tranquillity of the place. It offers a great haven to people living in the buzzing city. I know it is merely a dam, but it is a very special place to me. This time of year it is at its best! An Oasis in the desert.

Yes I am still a little bit home sick…

Dust to wind, my roots revisited

Neglected little blog. Leaving one world behind to explore others. It has been an emotional couple of weeks. Somewhere, somehow I lost my feet, my foundation started feeling a bit shaky. Strange little incidents had me searching for meaning. Questioning all of my decisions, God it became exhausting. Then I had the paranoid notion that maybe I had let my guard down, wore my heart on my sleeve, perhaps in the wrong company. It is so easy to climb aboard a slippery slide, the increase in momentum as you go hurtling faster and faster down a ride of uncertainty, regret, self doubt. Going home for a wedding couldn’t have come at a better time! Let’s face it I needed my Mother!

I landed in a dusty brown Joburg. Miles and Miles of ground upturned and flattened, soon to become more frustrated, steamy concrete highways. The pilot joked and welcomed us to Zimbabwe. I don’t know if it was the starkness of the Highveld that prompted her – but the blonde in front turned to her boyfriend quite alarmed that they had taken the wrong plane. I was dazzled by the light and the heat. The sun stung my skin within minutes. It was wonderful being with my loud, lovely and characterful family. Everywhere I went the air was heavy with the smell of Jasmine and yesterday, today and tomorrow.

I still can’t believe my little cousin is a married woman. The wedding was emotional for the entire family. Aunts, Uncles, cousins – we were all choked up, everyone with a similar look on their faces. This was going to be a very different family gathering and nothing would be taken for granted. With her Father by her side in spirit only, my beautiful cousin walked down the aisle to the sound of Bittersweet Symphony – by the Verve. It was so perfect, I still don’t know how I managed to stifle the sobs and wails that stuck like glue in my throat, me… the stoic one of the family. I was completely moved. Standing next to my Dad in his kilt my Mom in her diamonds and black sequined dress.

As kids the four of us grew up together; the bride and her sister, my brother and I. We were practically inseparable. Went away together, camping trips or a rented house in Durban. We planned great theatrical plays, complete with grand costumes and furniture rearrangement, the end goal was to charm our parents so much that they would have to yes when we asked for a sleep over! We made up songs and dances and played adventure games in the forest (aka Gran’s garden)

The wedding happened at The Cradle. It was hot, dry, African Bush at its best. Everyone in colour looked quite dazzling against the backdrop of thorny, acacia trees, wild tall grass and dirt roads. Especially the Mother of the Bride in emerald green and black. We were told there were wild animals to be seen, but with a Pimms and ginger ale in everyone’s hand and the sheer scale of the event, I think some of the giraffe and buck went unnoticed.

People in Joburg live large. Fast cars, big houses, lush gardens. I suppose it is a choice you make and to be honest I do miss it. My family is larger than ever. Still close. Loud, rich, powerful. As a group we fascinate the outsiders. Often I am cornered in bathrooms by inquisitive woman asking me a host of questions about where I fit in? Which one is my Mother? How many Aunts and Uncles are there? I always feel a great surge of pride when I am with them.

I am back at work now. Trying hard to adjust to the Cape’s Icy winds and tackling one email, one project at a time. Two weeks work getting done in one. There is something seriously wrong with this leave process. Surely it was designed and enforced so that people can maintain a level of productivity and not burn out. Yet when all is said and done, you kill yourself to get everything done before you leave, then have to catch up with mountains upon your return.

I have much more to write about Joburg…

Heart on the bench

I know people who know people! (yay – yes I can now say such things – who would have thunk it ??  Little ole me?)

And that little treasure of information had me across from a ramp, watching the most beautiful girls and guys strut their stuff (although not very happily at times) on the runway, sitting below a girl on a swing – wearing very little as well as massively delicious dominatrix heels. (You had to be there!)

They played Madonna’s “Celebrate”  among other 80’s tunes and it was very difficult to sit still in my seat or keep the smile off my face. It was rather peculiar to see with my own eyes – that misery and boredom was a look not only worn by the models but by the spectators themselves. As hard as I tried I just couldn’t adapt the same blank expression. It was at my first fashion show. The men were so gorgeous my skin was melting, I was sitting next to the lovely Modelmental who was also telling me some of her glamorous tales of her life on the runway. The lights, the clothes, the models – sure – I get where a yawn and complete disinterest would play a role!

So much fun!!

Well I have been given a huge work challenge that will last for three months and hopefully,  if all goes well – there will be celebrations at the end of November – celebrations French Champagne style – worthy of Bollinger, Mumm, Taittinger, Veuve clicquot …actually come to think of it – just in time for the first Saturday of December and the Champagne Festival.

So it is going to be plenty of hard work – I need to stay focused. For seven months I have partied hard – so hard that my heels have been worn down, two bottles of essentiale have been emptied, taxi company’s know my name and I was recognised by a policeman in a coffee shop – as the girl – full of attitude- one Friday night. In other words as Rox put it at the time – The night I fought the law and won, only to then bump into him in the sober daylight! Yes I have partied hard. My red mole skinned diary under my bed has been filled with adventure after adventure. I really need to seek out some balance now. Having stopped my smoking habit after 15 years, proves I can discipline myself, now I just need to work on the focus, time management and organisation. I swear those have to be the three most dull and lacklustre words in the English language.

In other news it seems I am destined to be one of those single friends no one really knows what to do with – my wingchic can be a winghic no more as she has become a the very happy chic of a tall, romantic, lovely polish man, only just deserving of her…and my ex is coming to visit me this weekend. (I have been missing him more than cigarettes and am now weeping at every love song I hear and every soppy movie I watch – just a stage I suppose) and then, I cannot for the life of me figure out Google AdSense…but I am doing well in yoga! I am also finding my days speeding by very quickly – not being broken up by numerous smoke breaks. This is slightly concerning – I am still unsure how a non smoker operates…

I think I have watched Pretty in Pink six times. I am so in love with the scene when she says to her Dad: “I just want them to know that they didn’t break me” Just so you know…

Breathe – my continuation of a love affair with a purple yoga mat

For quite some time I had a bit of an internal battle with myself and my abilities in the yoga class. My body felt heavy and unyielding. I attributed this blame on one of the newer instructors. I found her classes where too much a platform for her to express her opinions and viewpoints. I found that instead of providing encouragement, we were regarded as ballooned, ignorant ego’s, that needed to be humbled in order to find enlightenment. I had too many teachers like that in high school. I respond much better to positive reinforcement – rather than manipulative persuasion from holier than thou experts. In yoga, I especially felt this offensive. In my still young learnings, what I have started to value the most – is self love – being easy on yourself – being filled with love and gratitude for who you are and what you can achieve. It is a gentle lesson, one of love and respect and then, you know what…spread it around thereafter. It is easy to bash, criticize, make someone feel inept. To taunt or bully, evoking a reaction. How awesome it is to rather inspire, encourage, feed that little defiance of gravity that raises someone’s chin!

Well there are those instructors that do just that: inspire and teach. They say; “Try it, you never know” “and “For this last second stretch your leg up higher than you ever have before” and then  “Breath.” Last night I attended such a class, for the first time in a long time, I understood a bit more about the layers, the complexity, the eternal and ever changing learning process of yoga. There are so many discoveries that one can make, once a focus can be maintained and a stillness in mind achieved – even be it for a few seconds – it becomes such an awesome gift. After such a class one can only drop your head to the ground in gratitude, in awe, in love.

I have also made a solemn vow – to not direct any more of my frustration on a new teacher – I am sure she too will find her way.

Namaste

Let it rain

It is a terribly gloomy grey day, there are many sore throats, coughing, swine flu cases – at work we are on this hygiene focus drive to reduce absenteeism. With no sunshine it seems as though energy levels have decreased. There is a heaviness evident, the insatiable desire to stay under the covers. Wrap cotton sheets and feather duvets tightly around you. Patience at its all time low, people are scratching my skin – invading my space with inane dribble and wasted questions. I am tired of my pale and translucent skin. So it is in these times I must – in all earnest – find – like blood in a stone – the silver lining. The glare at the end of the drain pipe. The rainbow. Before I lose the plot!

There have been a couple of fashion items this season in Cape Town that I have loved:

• Leggings – I wear these to death – I brought two pairs from YDE – they are extra long and I love wearing them so the bottom is tucked under my heels – with closed back stiletto’s. I also love them with Uggs and my knee high boots – so versatile – I am not sure what I would have done without then!

• Tartan – Being of Scottish descent – I have a love hate relationship with this pattern. I think I owned too much when I was younger – especially during the years when it was simply not cool – but now – I love it! Tartan everything – not only Tartan but plaid, check – I would kill for anything from Burberry! For now – the tiny black and grey tartan skirt I brought from SKA will have to suffice.

• Knee length black coat – I brought this last winter from Woolies – so it isn’t ultra fashionable, expensive or anything – only this season I pinned a bright red rose to the collar. I wanted to do this for my Uncles funeral – I knew he would appreciate it – breaking away from the black. Since then it has stayed on, and strangely enough I seldom go anywhere without someone saying something about my rose.

• Along with my red rose – I love the colour red. I brought this crazy short red dress from Journey on Long Street, at a 50% off sale. When I spin around it bellows like a tea cup. It is also that deep dark red. Today there is no greater contrast than my dress in this grey weather. It cheers me up tremendously!

• My uncle brought me a Swarovski cross for my 30th birthday. It is chunky and dazzles. It makes me think about my family and reminds me about where I have come from. Often its comforting to know that I always have a home to turn to- especially in moments when people look at me like I am from another planet.

Then the other marvellous miscellaneous things:

• My iPod: Listening to Bitter Sweet Symphony while walking through the city always gives me a kick. At work music gives me a lift when required. Love songs to send me into dream land and then there the loud foot tapping stuff – that blocks out the chewer – even when there is an apple involved! Yes she is still tormenting me with her very loud, earth shattering chewing habits and no, I have not got used to it!

• My BlackBerry. My love affair with this lovely phone continues and I keep finding applications that I haven’t used before.

• My electric blanket. My ex hated them so it has been the first winter I have used one – I put it on about half an hour before I go to sleep – then it goes off after an hour or so – depending on how long my book keeps me awake.

• My flat in the city. I am still in love with my space and in winter it has proven to be cosy and warm. I love how the lights from ABSA and FNB flood my room at night, the smell of the sea when the wind is howling. I love my kitchen and marble kitchen counter. I love that it is all mine!

Softly you go now…

Mondays needs to be accompanied by a bit of softness, a couple of indulgences. A good blog to read, the discovery of a new tool or perhaps just some enjoyable easy company. Time needs to move quickly and I also find that a steady long stare into nothing, is part and parcel of the journey to Mondays’ end. Thankfully we have revamped our offices and now I can stare at the gloomy pine tree outside – swaying in the sunless air.

It is the day I am least likely to go to yoga and my couch, black velvet blanket and fluffy slippers are thought of with tremendous longing. I rather enjoy knowing that I can make up for my lapse of productivity in the three days that lie ahead. (I try not to count Friday at this point)

On a Monday, there’s a tendency to remain wallowing in the warm memories of the weekend just gone by. The drinks they came five minutes after leaving the office on Friday, then a fast and furious night quickly blurred by patron, crazy antics and drunken loose haired fun! Saturday called for  Peroni at sunset, the  sea, sushi and a delightful assortment of old and eccentric movies with Glenmorangie and my new Favourite: Redbreast – yum!!! Although I have confessed to my partner in indulgences – that I may very possibly be influenced by the price of one dram of the stuff!

Then Last night we made a long table from three bar tables, complete with two candlesticks. Trays of home cooked lasagne, potato salad. 12 people almost all completely different. Different cultures, languages, backgrounds – but a shared love of dancing. A strange feeling of family amongst almost strangers. How is it that such a strange dynamic exists,  in this place they told me was so clicky? There it is again. Now it is dinner on a Dance Floor, followed by desert, then followed by a movie.

Sunday nights are the nights you wish would never end.

Today is drawing to a close. I want to go home, clean house, which will surely lend itself to a cleaner mental focus. I want to write in my Red Moleskin diary and make a gigantic pot of Thai Green Curry – which should carry me through the rest of the week in healthy manner. Yes the transition from party girl to domestic is rather alarming. I must ensure I have a glass of red to assist with the cleaning…