Almost there

Ever done something scary? Yes, of course you have. I mean, like, duh bru. But sometimes scary things aren’t scary in the everyday way; sometimes scary things are good for us. In my case, this something scary is submitting the article I blogged about last time.

I finally did it. Yes, I had much bad luck this past week, but it didn’t deter me. It made me want to finish the article so badly, I wrote until 23:44 last night and then until 15:15 today. Today’s resolution was to work hard, but not to work on the overdue articles for my company. No ways, José.

So. If I get published…I still need to wrap my mind around that possibility. I’ll be a bit freaked out, that’s for sure, but it will be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Could this be it?

The incredible has happened, people. My mind is still spinning. I’m still walking around with the biggest grin on my face. Uri told me about a magazine some months ago. More than likely, I sneered at it, thinking it’s not such a good publication. I thought it was a South African publication, I’m sure.

But then I saw it at my nearest Exclusives and sat down to read it. It helped that it featured Charlie Sheen from The West Wing. I liked it and thought to myself that I should buy it when I have money. Time passes and I buy other magazines, spend my money on 375ml bottles of Graham Beck Brut and surf the interweb muchly.

Then, on Saturday, I left the real suburbia and went to the V&A. I saw the magazine again and the cover tempted me to read as much of it as possible. I looked around for a seat in the store, but couldn’t find one so I just stood there, reading.

I went home that afternoon and hoped I could find the magazine online. I did. And I spend a delightful couple of hours reading some of the older articles. But I noticed an error somewhere in their FAQs and sent off a polite email to the editor. I didn’t expect to get a reply, but got one on Monday. She loves my new blog and would like me to write for them. Me. Mna. Moi. Ek. Ich. So now I have to pitch a column idea to her. Argh. How to do that? But I’m sure I’ll find out. I really don’t want to fuck this up…

*Still can’t understand why she’s having such luck*

Turns out I’m a fussy eater…

I’ve always thought I’m an adventurous eater. I guess not. Parenthesis exclaimed “I heart memes!” and I decided to jump on the bandwagon. Here’s my list. (You know how much I love lists and memes and goetertjies)

1. Bold the ones you’ve tried.
2. Strike through the ones you wouldn’t touch if you were starving and it were a choice between that and boiled goats testicles.
3. Italicize the shit you might be tempted to try. Say you were a contestant on Survivor…
4. Feel free to leave a running commentary.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding No fucking way, Jose!
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht - doesn’t look appetising, but OK
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho-rare beef…yummy
13. Peanut butter & Jam sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes –?
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper –??
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float –??
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly - Not so sure about this
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal - Hell, yeah! Sounds great.
44. Goat’s milk in cheese form
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine - Doesn’t look very pleasant, but I’ll give it a shot on Survivor…
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads - Eeew.
63. Kaolin - No fucking way, Jose!
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frog legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake - Yummy.
68. Haggis - You live once, right? Off Wikipedia: “As the 2001 English edition of the Larousse Gastronomique puts it, “Although its description is not immediately appealing, haggis has an excellent nutty texture and delicious savoury flavour.” (p592)”
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill - Just doesn’t feel right to eat roadkill…
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snails
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse - I don’t believe in scruples…
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam - I used to love this. Can’t stand processed meat now. Eeew.
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

I explain somewhat

I can’t only blame myself. Many things happened to cause my insane amount of debt. And I’m working on getting everything sorted. Promise. My parents (well, my mom actually) are partly to blame. I grew up thinking that having a Foschini account is normal. I grew up thinking that it’s normal to skip a payment, and to receive threatening lawyers letters. I grew up with parents who didn’t even finish paying my school fees.

They weren’t poor, though we did stay in a poorer area in the Northern Suburbs of CT. They overspent on food, and underspent on stuff we needed.

So for the past six or seven years I have been spending far too much money on rent only because I feel I deserve slightly better than having to boil water to wash my pretty little face. When I got fired (this happened very often), I would ignore my bills and try to pay rent instead.

I was never taught how to work with money. Yes, I know that I am 25 and I should just ‘Google it, damn it’. But it’s not that easy. Money still slip through my fingers. I can easily (like most of us) spend a third of my net salary on absolute rubbish. And then I have to rely on payday loans to buy my monthly train ticket and some food.

So I surprised myself on Wednesday: I paid off one of these accounts. I am too frightened to find out when was the last payment I made prior to Wednesday. I felt so proud that I was able to do that. And I’m sure that if I continue doing what I’m doing, I could have my debts sorted out in a year. Fine, two years’ time if I decrease the amount I’m putting towards it every month. That will give me an extra couple of hundred to spend on pretty things every month.

But I wish I were able to budget better. I tried last month, and it worked…for a little while only.

:(

:(

Edgars	R 2,433.00	Paid Up
Truworths	R 4,313.00
Telkom	R 3,480.00
Woolworths	R 4,318.00
Nedbank	R 4,353.00
RCS	R 5,057.00
Virgin Money	R 12,808.00
Vet	R 1,400.00
Nedbank Credit Card	R 2,754.00	Paid Up
Discovery	R 289.00
Vodacom	R 7,102.00
Sainet	R 800.00
Leisure Books	R 300.00
	R 49,407.00	R 44,220.00

Is this real suburbia?

I thought suburbia was quiet, clean and sans black people? Perhaps, then, I did not move to suburbia. Perhaps I have moved to something that falls in between suburbia and the city. I have renewed my subscription to Cape Ads and am flat hunting once again. Yeah for me.

I rock, you rock, she rocks

So I got tagged twice in one week. I think. By Caz and by EM&CT to do the rockin’ da daisy.

The Rocking The Daisies competition might bring me a smile again. Remember how I managed to get such bad karma that my own sister stole my iPod? Hmm. Whatevs. This looks like a great opportunity to get an even better iPod than the 30Gigger I had…

1. Blog about the competition, telling us what you would take with you to the concert.
2. Link to Rockin’ da daisy and Digicape
3. Tag your friends in the post. In other words, just link to their website to encourage them to come over and look at your website.
4. Register here, tag your name and my name (Callith) and copy our blog post onto their website.

So what could I not possibly do without at Rocking the Daisies?
Well isn’t it obvious?

1. A hot man
2. Stacks of condoms
3. My cell with its Vodacom data bundle
4. Wine/Vino/Alcohol
5. My 100% Australian Merino top

OK, here goes. I tag Eggworth; Parenthesis; Leigh Anne; Hair Today, Forgot Tomorrow.

Never is such a long time…

OMG. I’m never contacting one of my exes again. Never. They might just think I’m as crazy as this guy who killed one of his ex-girlfriends. Link courtesy of Eggworth.

Men don’t get it

I’m not desperate to meet men. I swear. But G-d knows, this is bullshit. They are everywhere, but they just don’t ask me out. Does that mean they’re not interested in me, or does it mean they already have girlfriends (or boyfriends)? Or when they do ask me out in their own little random way, it never seems to ‘happen’?

On Saturday, I went to my favourite Exclusives. It helps that it’s close to where I stay. As I walk towards the door, I see that Pwetty Boy is there. This means he’s back from the UK, well, Scotland. He left Cape Town in 2006. We used to work together at Exclusives, way before I had an emotional slash mental slash financial meltdown…

So, I walk past where he was chatting to the store manager and enter the store. I buy the magazines I was planning on buying and go outside to chat to him. He was thrilled to see me. We hugged. And hugged again. And he told me about everything he’s been doing, which includes working at a different store and having to find a new apartment. So when I told him I’ll say goodbye to him on his final day at that Exclusives, he said “Yeah, and then we should get a drink”.

So why then, did that not happen? Was I expecting too much? Did I misread what he said? Was it one of those “Oh, we should hang out some time” things people say? I wasn’t expecting anything to happen; it would’ve been great just to have a coffee or a beer (Peroni, of course) with an attractive dude whom I’ve been dying to kiss for the past two years.

Grrrr.

The label snob’s foot in mouth disease

This isn’t quite what Parenthesis had in mind, but it’s something I’ve been dying to tell…

So I finally decided to grace the new Gucci store with my presence. This was on a quiet Sunday afternoon, some weeks back. I’m feeling very classy in my Marion and Lindie dress worn over my jeans. There’s no reason why my LBD should languish in my cupboard, right?

I walk in and have a (sneer-filled) look around. I can’t imagine having a handbag with such obvious labelling: I’m a label snob, not a label whore. I walk to one of the displays, pick up one of the wallets and try (I was trying for discretely, but it didn’t quite work) to see the price. Five grand. I nearly died.

One of the salesladies was following me around (guess I didn’t look rich enough to her), and was standing right behind me when I was muttering to myself “Why, why, why?”. To ensure I do not look like a complete nutcase, I then asked her “Why, why, why?”. She went into detail about the quality of the fabric they used when I stopped her “Hold on, this isn’t leather?”. “You mean, this is the same material they used in my Louis?” She was very respectful, and nodded a yes. I walked around a bit more, hoping my el cheapo bag’s frayed side isn’t showing. I tried acting tres classy, as though I were Audrey Hepburn.

She asked if there’s anything I would like to look at, but I declined. I told her I’m just looking; I’ve been meaning to come inside the store to browse ever since they opened, but I will never, ever buy Gucci. I tried to look as full of disdain as possible.

The sales assistant was shocked, and I can understand why. Gucci is an uber-luxury brand. I tell her “Oh god, everyone’s got Gucci. I don’t want something everyone has.” I take another walk through the store, and leave.

It’s only later on that I remember: not everyone has Gucci; everyone I know have Guess. There’s a tiny, tiny difference: Gucci is luxe; Guess isn’t. And I’ve been confusing Gucci with Guess. It’s so easy, I mean, their names both start with a G…