Day Seventeen

I can't be bothered with tabloids and gossip on celebrities.

Ask anyone: when describing a movie to me, friends say you know the girl from this movie and the guy from that movie? Well they're both in this other movie, called this. 

Then I get it. 

Names of people I'll never know are something I'll never quite grasp...

Except a few. These are the few (I googled their names, I'll have you know. Serena Van Der Woodsen didn't have a name until a couple of minutes ago...) that remind me of my friends.

A side note. Friends...I'm not listing your names, you will only be known as doppelgangers because of the aforementioned stalker-ship. I do hope you all take this in the warmest of love!

 From Gossip Girl. Blake Lively (top) and her doppelganger . 

                            From Glee: Chris Colfer (below) and his not-gay doppelganger .

From "Love Story"-Taylor Swift (below) and doppelganger .

From 127 Hours James Franco (below) and Doppelganger.

Weird weird weird. 


So what's bugging you today?!

Day Sixteen

What not to do:

Do: the grocery shopping

Do: Make supper and do the washing up when staying at someone's house.

Do: Put the left overs in the fridge.

Don't:

plus

Because it equals:

Ohkay. Now that is an exaggeration. But it does melt. And melting plastic onto your friend's stove is a big don't.
A normal person would admit it. And apologise...I, however, am not normal.


So google came to the aid and the next day when my friend was at work I found the solution! So here's the Do's to getting plastic off of stoves, for those of you who ingeniously decide to make the same mistake:

Do: Wait for the stove to cool.
Do not: Try to scrub at it with a sponge and a mixture of Jik and Handy Andy while the plate is still hot. It just will burn your fingers.
Do: Take a knife to the stove top and hack at the plastic.

Do not: use a non-serrated knife like the one shown above.
Do: put the stove on full heat.
Do not: forget to put the extractor fan on and open the windows and doors.

And most importantly.. 
Do not: forget to get a new container to replace the one with holes in the bottom! (Task of the day!)


Ps. Do not: let that friend get a hold of your blog address. 
Ever.

Day Fifteen

HOLIDAY time!

Holiday- Vampire Weekend

Yes folks, it's that time of year..bags have been packed, camera's dusted off and bikinis shaken out for our week of non-schooldom! Everyone went home for the first time this year and as for me? I have not.

Instead I have been invited to A Secret Destination (I don't want you all flooding here once you see these pic-a-tures) to stay with a friend. (Also a secret. Just because.)

And I'm loving it here.

Here the weather is sunny, the people are Afrikaans, and friendly. It is a beach town. It is full of amazing isolated beaches with warm(ish) swimable(ish) water and coarse, pedicure-yielding sand. As an Afrikaans town it bursts with cool things kitsch like this giant seagull statue.

Or a "Lekker By Die See" restaurant. Or a mermaid statue. Or a scary "just a joke" we'll-shoot-you-if-you-park-on-the-grass sign. I could carry on, but it's a place you have to experience first hand to understand it in all its splendour.

I went shopping this morning and made friends with the veggie unpacker called Arne. He told me to make stir-fry veg for supper tonight. I did. 

I went to the art shop and got my sketchbook, some new pens, and directions to the beach. I did not make friends with the security guard who didn't want me walking through the boom. (I walked through anyway.) I made friends with the gardener who asked me how I was doing and the old man who asked if my feet were hot (I had actually just stood on my 10th thorn) when I was walking back on the tar from my swim.

I toured the harbour, looking at all the boats which I always do when my mum and I go to the harbour. I chose my favourite boat, also essential. I walked and balanced on the pier on which three fishermen with caps donned over their reddening necks were sitting. I then went on to the beach. There, I scrambled and clambered over the boulders and beach hopped, until I found a rock so gigantic and so smooth, that I had to sit on it. I drew for a while and listened to music. 

"Roll Away Your Stone"- Mumford and Sons came on my iPod (it happens to be my most favourite song) and I waded further in to the water. When the water was up to my knickers I realised that I needed to swim-without my iPod and Ray Bans. So I did. The beach was isolated, thankfully...

This evening we had gourmet burgers and wine while looking out onto the sea (metaphorically, we actually just looked into the building construction in front of the sea view...)

What a good day!

Day Fourteen

Due to yesterday’s coldness, I left nothing to chance as I got ready for the second round of autumn. Early morning chills found me wearing my cosy hoodie around my room, and I wished I could have worn it to campus. I couldn’t have, of course. The hoodie simply does not go with the dress and that marks the end of my attempt of bringing it into my outfit of the day.

Instead I pushed and prodded and customised until my dress was a bubble top, being tucked into my jeggings, and I had boots and a jersey to keep the chills out. As I was checking my emails from various blogs to which I have subscribes on the bus, a muslim guy sat down on the seat next to me. 


Curious about everything as I am, I gave him (or his outfit, more specifically) a quick once over: a black thobe (Muslim traditional dress), jeans, a khaki Billabong zip up hoodie and a white taqiyah (which is the traditional Muslim hat).

Obviously he also felt it was cold and had not suffered the same disagreement with The Hoodie And The Black Dress as I had. But it made me realise that being Muslim adds serious complications in clothing choice while still agreeing with religious beliefs.

So I googled it.

Sarah Elenany is a fashion designer. She designs clothes that both agree with the correct Muslim religious conducts (such as the concealing of certain body parts) and agree with fashion. Her label, Elenany, is designed for everyone. This is not a religion-only range and its urban chic-ness provides ample reason for anyone to wear designs from this innovative designer.

What do you think?

(For more info go to www.elenany.co.uk)

Day Thirteen

Yesterday, being the first varsity day after the long weekend, combined with The-First-Cold-Day-of-the-Year saw UCT with fewerthanusual students.

Those of us determined to max out on our First Day of Winter Wear could be found queueing for a R7 large coffee from Campus Coffee or at its rival, Souper Sandwich, for R10 large chai.

People having a free clumsilyclustered on the signature Jammie stairs while those changing class briskly walked all with a miserably happy expression poking out from under beanies and hoods and umbrellas.

Boots were polished, dust had been beaten from coats and mittens quickly knitted. Had pockets been picked, packets of tissues would've been found. What else illustrates autumn but suddensickness?

In a vain attempt at keeping warm and fitting into those still-folded-in-the-top-of-my-cupboard-until-lent's-over jeggings, I decided to brace the sweatsoaked varsity gym.

Coming as a transfer from the University of Pretoria, this gym shocked me. Not a modified classroom, UCT's gym boasts an air conditioning system, not a handful of AIM fans, has seven working treadmills over four and has machines that are definitelynot from the 80's,(not to mention a studio in place of two 2by5m corridors!) You would surely think UCT would then charge more than Pretoria? Surprisingly not, with Pretoria at R90 poer month and UCT's for just R450 for the year.

But that's not my point. Art is. UCT is known for its wide collection of art works, and this extends as far as the gym. Five artworks are displayed in the gym. Now I have no idea what the efffect of heat and sweat have on art, further than an art piece of Humpty Dumpty which my, then age 2, sister at the age had drawn. It hung in our bathroom for a number of years until so much fungi had formed from the mildew that it had to be chucked away...

Now I know that gym doesn't create heat like that from a shower or a bath, but surely in 20 years or so these works of art will be ruined? My question is whether it's worth it: temporary beauty which later leads to destruction?

I guess that question relates not only to artworks but also anorexia, botox, tattoos, plastic surgery... Or are they artworks in themselves?

Have a warm day!

Day Twelve

Last night saw me adding another category of non-dress wearing to my category. Yes, you definitely did not guess it, but I have officially started work! So now it leaves me as a clothesmortal in pyjamas, exercising clothes AND work clothes. So now that I'm a working girl, I have more money to spend on not-clothes. 
Love-er-ly.

But yesterday morning is my focus of this page.

I have started helping out at my church's youth group, or "Children's Church" as they ridiculously renamed Sunday School. And it was my first lessonthing.

What on earth do you speak about to a handful (yes, only a handful) of "teens" from 12-20??
I was definitely not the "cool" person there. But my message had to be cool.

So I spent Saturday night trying to be cool.

And I decided to speak about the messages of God in cool bands. Like U2. And Bruno Mars. Adele. Mumford and Sons. The Fray. Bob Dylan...

I focussed on U2's song, 40, which is an interpretation of Psalm 40.

And then Bluetoothed and swindled my way into their cellphones (and hearts) and sent them coolsongs. They had to listen to them and tell everyone later what their song meant.

 This suddenly, like a string to a helium balloon, grounded me. It made me realise that I take meaning from some songs, and ignore the meaning of others. I take The Fray's "You Found Me" quite literally, without even a second thought on the matter. Where as Mumford and Sons' "Roll Away Your Stone" deserves a whole thesis, in my eyes. I feel so stupidly unconscious towards all meanings that I, from hereonout, will take more time to give a thought at what an artist could possibly mean. And what that song means to me.

Teaching really is the only way to learn.

Day Eleven

Today is about to turn into tomorrow and I have accumulated enough zombieness these past few days to stop caring.

Saturday saw our bright and eagerlystarving tummies to The Old Biscuit Mill's Neighbourhood Goods Market. Pity it was on the hottest day of Cape Town's year! I have never felt it necessary to buy two smoothies and an ice lollie is the space of one hour before..... now I can tick that one off the list at least!

In the evening we had full intentions of going to watch an amaaaaazing South African band, Die Heuwels Fantasties, in the Company Gardens in town before the Long Street Carnival, celebrating Human Right's Day.

Heat was our time slower so we came late but just in time for candyfloss in the park! (And of course, to watch two friends embrace....and midway both of them standing in steaming horsemanure which the great-sense-of-humour police horses had left behind.)

At the parade you couldn't walk without bumping into prams and camping chairs and old granny's perms and dreadlocks. The coolthing about the parade was the animals (like the dino below...) They were giant and worn by puppeteers and moved amazingly. With a coolresemblance to Headwig, and owl flew up and down the streets, but the crowd were taken away by the ostrich races, for which two men were made into the ostrich puppet. Everyone went beserk!

(Speaking of Dinosaurs, a side note, with a side link and a YouTube buffering to Dinosaur- Jax Panik. He was playing at the concert we missed. He, coincidently, also puts his name to this song, the song for which my sister has been MK drooling for days, just to hear it. I hope that while we're sitting here at Cocoa Wah Wah she'll use her 40 free megabytes and listen to it to end her maddening tvtakeover.)

It was sweating with capacity.

 Luckily we all decided to have a drink at a nearby hotel and left pretty early.

Nevertheless, the spectators became the mob. We were driving (just us girls in a soft-roofed BMW) through bumpertobumper traffic past the crowds. Suddenly a group of guys came to the car and were knocking on our windows and trying to open the doors and roof. So really, we had lavish living, carnivalattending and adrenaline pumping all in one night. All in all, perfect blogging material.

Our quirky night ended with having drinks with friends at Forries and then a scramble of writing my lesson for childrenschurch the next morning!

Day Ten

Last night was great.

Nothing is impossible: when needing to wear green for St. Paddy's  and having only a black dress do not fear! Get Nicole's step-mom's Polo Sport tank top and customise your dress until you have a skirt! Problem....what problem?!

It involved the opening of corked wine bottles with knives, the cleaning of the wine splatters from all over the walls because of the knife opening, the pinning  of size 14 dresses on the Jammie Shuttle while trying to hold the hidden (and open) wine between your boots.  And then stopping off for our own artwork creation with plastic glasses and an R. Mutt sticker in the Hiddingh loo of course.

R. Mutt. (Famous work on urinals by Duchamp, a Dadaism artist).

Our edition to Duchamp's work and Dadaism (making useful object useless).

"Engaged". 

(What sort of immature people laugh at engagement you may ask...)

Nicole and I did the whole thing. We went to Dubliners, the home of the Guiness beer and green drinks with 80’s music to singalong to. We went to Mr Pickwick’s for a moment of marvel. We went to goodnessknowswhere and had goodnessknowswhat and had goodnesknowshow the best of fun!

All in all, everybody was out to celebrate.

This morning left us with smells of smoke, cut feet and tired eyes, but the enthusiasm to get up and prepare for tonight’s fun nevertheless! Wine under oaks with friends on blankets, an old VW van to Chinese food (with the most realest Chinese person) and famouslookalike friends denying their similarities based on homophobic views found us having the best of an evening!

Home now, and to bed we go (after watching Garden State, of course!)

(Still) Day Nine

Before I go out into the wild rush of the Saint of all Patrick's, I'd like to share with you The Most Awesome (Green) Shoes In The Entire World.

The most awesome Be Delicious pose in the world:

Not this one.

This one.

The best (and most stereotyped) poster St. Paddy's Day poster in the world:

Have a good one!

Day Nine

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Now it's just after 2am and I'm exhausted so excuse the typos and the general sense of non-sense going on here. But today is a nonsense-filled day! We just came back from an epicccc night at Zula!

It is on Long St. (which is arguably the best street in Cape Town, come day, come night. It's the sort of street you walk down and people are leaning against a lumpy old car with a guitar, a girl is singing along and the other members of the group are smoking and listening quietly while leaning against the car and nearby shop windows. It's just wonderful.) www.zulabar.co.za. 

Anyway, we sat at a table on the balcony watching gourmet pizzas pass us as we sipped our aperitifs in the hot humid heat. With vanilla cigarettes fuming the air, we looked across to the bead shop, watched a topless middle-aged man quizzically and generally waited eagerly...to watch Step Dog perform.

They have, in my opinion, a The Kooks-meets-Kings of Leon-with-a-bit-of-Bubléontheside sort of a sound. 

They are stunning.

After a quick stop at Maccy Dee's, we went on to catch the bus back home. In celebration of St. Patrick's Day, we decided to make card cut outs of a Four Leafed Clover and stick them in the green traffic lights outside res. (I got the idea from my friend, Georga, who photographed a heart made in the red light.) I found some old Simba chips box outside Mac Donald's and away we went.

Cynthia had a pencil in her bag (luckily!) and with it I drew a terrible shape. With a little help from everyone, the clover came into being. We arrived back at res and quickly made the cut-outs and coloured them in (with my awesome crayons: Ferbies!) Thanks to Graeme's tallness and a handy unused crate, we stuck (with the scavenged prestick that Cynthia and I gathered) the cards up fairly easily.

Drive down Main Road past Lower Campus to see them today!