10 things I learnt this weekend

1. Christmas is definitely here...ho ho ho
2. Stuffing is just too delicious
3. Dancing in the bar with your digs mates is a great way to party on a Friday night
4. Doing Christmas shopping earlier than Christmas Eve is quite smart really
5. Credit cards are potentially dangerous things
6. Movies + snuggling + Astros = yum
7. Nothing beats a sleep in
8. Old friends stay the same...thank goodness!
9. Live music and good company is a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon
10. McDonalds might taste delicious while you eating it...but the guilt and tummy trouble really aren't worth it!

Wise words from my diary...

"Change and growth take place when a person has risked himself and dares to become involved with experimenting with his own life" 
- Herbert Otto

Coincidentally, I read this words after a moment of 'Oh my goodness, seriously this for another year!' and made me get very very itchy feet.
I have been enjoying a slightly less stressful week [a conclusion no doubt drawn from the number of posts already this month!]- which I think I deserve after producing 5 magazines in 3 months - because my brain is rather fried and holidays couldn't come sooner.
But does my boss mind me resting up a bit? Yes, it seems so! Because he asked if I've started working on my January features!!! Are you kidding!!

While I'm not going to do anything extreme like quit my job, I certainly need to start hatching a plan on ways to risk and experiment with my life (I'm not talking drugs here) to have a fun-filled amazing 2011! 

10 things I learnt this weekend

Jax Panik on Friday night....check out the skulls for hidden name.

1. Doing something different on a Friday night is refreshing - interesting place, interesting people and of course, the free drinks and entertainment that comes with a product launch.
2. Trust Curly's gaydar [he got hit on by a gay guy who I thought was straight. Luckily the dude left 'gorgeous' Curly alone coz of me].
3. Going out just the two of you is good for some more romantic sparkle.
4. Swimming in the summer sun brings out the kid in everyone...cue boys balancing on logs (yes the tree kind!) and all of us having back flip competitions.
5. Greenside is a really awesome place to jam on a Saturday night.
6. It is absolutely stupid to worry about money when you are having an experience because you will completely miss out on the good time at hand.
7. Sleeping in is good for the body and soul. Nothing beats a Sunday afternoon nap.
8. Leftovers taste better with age [this does not apply to all meals of course]
9. Walking in the neighbourhood with good company is beautifully relaxing and enjoyable.
10. Mint chocolate in bed is delicious.

The Grog Jog

So I did something quite bizarre yesterday. I embarked on the annual Wanderers / Old Eds Pub Run, which entailed a 10km run, with four stops at pubs along the way.

I don’t know what I was more nervous about – the 10km (having only ever run that far once in my life) or the drinking (I’m very much a light-weight as those that know me are too aware) or the combination of the two.

I had heard scary stories about shots at every stop, people vomiting on the side of the road, stumbling through the last stretch and then a whole bunch of randoms jumping into the pool naked at the end.

Luckily, three of my housemates were also taking part so I definitely felt morally supported.

One of them, G, was possibly more nervous than me and had bought supplies for the event on his way home: pasta salad to carbo load, energade for that extra kick and a little packet of peanuts of raisins in his pocket for that mid-race energy boost (so cute!)

We also came to the conclusion that this was meant to be something exciting and enjoyable seeing as we had chosen to do it, and paid for the experience!

Upon registering we were all given an amusing shirt to set the tone, with the slogan: I’m not an alcoholic, I’m an athlete (this was definitely swapped around by the end of the night). My shirt was not in the pile (panic!) and then we realised that someone else had taken it, so I was Lauren Freeman for the night [we met later and reclaimed our identities!]

The 150-strong group set off from the club at a leisurely pace (a slow start, I like) and then speeded up to a gentle jog (this was going to be ok). It didn’t take too long before we reached the first pub, where I eagerly gulped down my first Savannah. G and I were the only ones with sweaty faces…hmmm! We put the blame on our sweat suits (Free shirt over our original one) and then we were ready for the next leg.

Not so fun running with bubbles fizzing in your tum, and knowing that you still have a long way to go. A taxi hooted loudly, cheering us on!

A bit of an uphill, G fell by the wayside and decided to walk, and then it was the Inanda stop. I chose a Spin – sweet for energy – rather sweet for slightly sick feeling!

Next leg….had a few moments when I could feel the bubbles bubbling up and had to take a few deep breaths to keep them down there – or at least only come out as burps!

Turtle Creek was our next stop, another delicious drink and then there is a heavy uphill to the last stop at Garden Court. – G chose a water at this point (only slight judging!)

And then it was time for the last stretch.

2 1/2 km!!! Uphill!!! Along Rivonia Road!!!

By this stage, the knees were getting sore and the drinks had definitely hit!! Got to run past a few prozzies on Oxford Street, one in just red lingerie and a coat (she asked one of the guys if he was coming back for her later) and then Hooray! We had reached the finish line at the Protea Hotel.

Tradition has always been to jump in the pool (fully clothed thank goodness) and so I duly took off my shoes, my grog jog shirt (clever thinking there Fluff!) and hopped on in.

Some of the security guards were not impressed and told us that the pool was only for hotel guests (I thought they were joking and playing along!) and then one guy went up to the scary looking white hotel manager to pretend to throw him in (all in the spirit right?) but he slipped on the wet tiles, and undercut the dude’s footing. He was FAR from impressed and told us to get out immediately (we were all canning ourselves). But shame, I think he felt rather humiliated!

So back to the start we went, dripping, to claim our final drink and munch on an enormous burger! A prize was handed out – running shoes, how appropriate – and then it was time for home (very wise decision considering I had to be at work the next day and a few weeks ago a Thursday night razzle ended very badly).

I think the alcohol only hit my system at about 1am – because I woke up disorientated, tried to take out my contacts again and then couldn’t sleep for an hour!

In conclusion: I did Grog and Jog and remarkably, did not end up with my head in the Bog!

10 things men do that irritate women

Not original I'm afraid, but something very amusing (and very true) that I found while browsing the net!

10 things men do that irritate women

• Thinking your driver's licence is not real. Somehow men just don't see your driver's licence as being quite as valid as theirs. Often, they would prefer to drive the whole way – even if it's 1 500 km – rather than asking you to drive for an hour or two. Point is, percentage-wise, women are involved in far fewer accidents than men are – ask any insurance company.

• Assuming the house cleans itself. This is a big one. Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but no, wet underwear does not remove itself from the bathroom floor, food does not miraculously appear on the table, or in the fridge, clean and ironed clothes do not get into the cupboard by themselves and the dishes don't clean by themselves overnight. Someone does all these things. Who do you think it could be? Could it be the other person in the house who also has a nine-to-five job? Wouldn't it be nice to wash the dishes every now and then without expecting a Nobel Peace Prize for doing it?

• Being jealous. It drives women away when men treat them like awaiting-trial prisoners, whose every move is under scrutiny. When men do this, it's about their own insecurities and their fear of rejection. When a man treats a woman like this, isolating her and accusing her of all sorts of things, he is showing his fear, not his love, and exhibiting what he thinks is his right to treat her like a possession. Most women find relationships like these claustrophobic in the extreme.

• Putting their mother on a pedestal. Right, every woman has her bad and good qualities, but he thinks his mother is directly related to the archangel Gabriel. Your cooking, housekeeping skills, social skills, whatever, always fall short in comparison. And any criticism you express of this wondrous creature makes him look as if he's just been kicked in the teeth by his best friend.

• It's win, win, win, all the way. Life, according to men, is one long competition, in which there are winners and losers. Women tend to be more co-operative and conciliatory by nature. Being fiercely competitive obviously has a place, but not when you're playing Ludo with your ten-year-old nieces and nephews.

• Assuming their spending is necessary and women's wasteful. The subscription to the golf club is essential – more essential than toothpaste. Many men – there are fortunately exceptions – have no idea what basic household necessities cost. These days it's very easy to spend a thousand rand on unromantic household necessities like coffee, toilet cleaner, dog food and cereal. The cost of food has spiralled in South Africa in the last year, and it's not your partner's fault. She is not wasting money on luxuries.

• Rather committing hara-kiri than asking directions. So what's the deal here? Is a man expected to know all roads leading everywhere, even if he's not been there before? And what would happen if he stopped and asked someone instead of driving in circles for 45 minutes? Instantaneous combustion? A public whipping? Instant castration? Surely not, but the prospect, for some reason, is as daunting. Almost as daunting as going to see the doctor about their foot that's starting to look gangrenous.

• Wanting to fix things, instead of listening to you. You've had a bad day – the twins had diarrhoea, the domestic worker didn't arrive, but what did arrive was a hefty bill from the Receiver of Revenue. All you want is a sympathetic ear and a pat on the back and a tissue or two, and what do you get? Suggestions about medication, an offering to fire the domestic worker and the telephone number of his tax consultant. OK, that's kind, but it's not what you wanted. You wanted a shoulder to cry on.

• A thing of beauty forever. Men, who have gone completely bald and who have a beer belly that would have won them the Ventersdorp Mr Boep competition if they had entered, assume that all women still find them attractive and flirt with them accordingly. What's more, they notice an extra three kilos on their wives – and comment on it. Whatever happened to what was good for the goose, being good for the gander and all that?

• They get paid more for doing the same thing. Technically this shouldn't be the case – after all we have one of the most advanced constitutions in the world, don't we? But, statitistics still tell the sorry tale of women being stuck in low-paid, heavygoing jobs with low starting salaries and lower low glass ceilings. And, if one asks around, it still happens frequently that men are paid higher starting salaries than women are.

But then, to balance all this out, there are the bear hugs when you really need them, the sorting out of the dent in your car, the e-mail just to tell you he loves you and the graciousness with which he deals with your difficult mother. - (Susan Erasmus, Health24)

My own similar version, from a writing exercise at Varsity will follow soon.

Money has me hostage

Ka Ching!

That’s exactly the noise that I hear inside my brain when I see that I’ve been paid. This is generally discovered after I’ve been hovering at my internet banking for the last few days of the month because I don’t get a payslip. In fact, I actually don’t know how much I get paid – before tax I mean – because I got a little raise a few months back and now I’m just not sure what I’m grossing. Think I need to start getting payslips again!

Budget calculations are very scary, I prefer to go with the ‘ignorance is bliss’ train of thought but this ALWAYS leads me to be being absolutely broke for the last week of the month. Where I inevitably dig in to my savings (at least I am saving in the first place right?!) So on Sunday night I had some time to kill – flight back from Cape Town at 10pm, needed to stay awake so I could actually sleep when I got home – and decided to work out my budget for the upcoming month.

Net Income – Rent – student loan repayment – medical expenses – gym membership – retirement fund – savings contribution – food shop for digs – petrol = NOT A LOT AT ALL!

I think I still prefer the blind approach!

So I’ve now divided what’s left between the number of days between now and the next pay check and given myself a daily allowance, which may be spent on whatever or saved up for something more.

In theory, this should mean I don’t run out of money.

But then, we have the weekends to contend with: pre drinks, going out, a meal out, maybe a movie, and the occasional treat – and that comes to a lot more than the daily allowance.

So then the solution is to not spend anything during the week so I can afford the weekends.

So let me get this straight – in less than a year of working I have begun living for my pay check, and when I get it, I work out how little I actually have and then start living for the next one.

And that’s without the bond, children’s school fees and the rest that comes along in a few years. And the medical aid, car insurance and cellphone contract that should be coming next year.

It truly does appear that money has me hostage and absolutely controls what I do and too much of what I’m thinking about.

Not good.

This must be the capitalist society. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

And it’s time that I break free from the rand ropes that tie me down. But how?

• A treat, like a cappuccino on the way to work, or juice when I’ve been shopping must become a rare sighting. Once a week maximum- that should come to
• I need to chose to do things that I really want to do – and not go out to eat, or movies or drinks, willy nilly just because I’m invited (I guess that way I will also appreciate the times more?)
• Do things on weekends that don’t cost a lot. This shall require some investigation but camping, hiking, braais and meals at home rather than out are all ways to enjoy the weekend without the price tag
• Start a splash out jar – for coins, random notes I have around – and once I’ve saved enough I can really enjoy whatever it is that I want to do at the time
• Get Curly on a similar mindset
• Enjoy people, not things

Money may make the world go around – but it’s not going to make mine!