Why should we have to suffer to be beautiful?
Killer heels notwithstanding, I won't ever resort to becoming a gym product to look hot. Sorry guys, I know how you love those pin-up's. But in my world, no flat stomach or toned butt is worth being in a room full of machines and mirrors. And as for diets, I don't think so. I eat rather sporadically anyway, excepting chocolate of course. So why make it worse by restricting my fat intake and overloading on protein? Besides, guys may perve over those 18 year olds, but in reality most of the guys I know seem to avoid those types. They ignore me when I'm wearing a hot dress, but suddenly advance when I'm wearing slops and jeans. Go figure. Indeed. Whatever, here's my P of A for this year: Shaolin Quan. That's it. And if I happen to come out looking like Lara Croft / A Bond Girl / Tank Girl, it'll make the joy of being able to roundhouse kick anyone who calls me babe just so much sweeter.
The Beginning of The End?
Well, not really. But doesn't it feel that way sometimes? Whatever. January's on its way out, the year is in full swing, and what do I have to show for it? Well now. I cut off my hair to take a load of my mind. I am getting inked again shortly: a monkey on my back. With any luck it'll keep the others from joining the party. A new job, doing something better somewhere nicer. Some perspective, very handy that - you never know when you'll need a little clarity these days. A bit of reality to toughen me up, and a bit of shmaltz to make me smile. Throw in some kitten therapy, and a few tequilas and I'm set to go. Living la vida lipstick
.Yup, all that and a bag of chips. Oh and a mantra to end all mantra's:The journey is the destination.
If you've got love in your sites...watch out
...love bites. It bleeds.This week just proves yet again that love ain't all roses and cuddles, with a good friend turning to drugs and my sister seeing her man effectively sell himself to a tourist to get out of here. If that wasn't enough of a shocker, the real eye-opener came when I realised how many of our friends have been hurt in the last few months. Enough to get a support group going actually, which is kinda what we will be doing. This one won't involve group hugs and strangers though, more like revenge and plotting. Yes, yes...I know it doesn't always end in tears, but in my circle, it somehow seems to end in high drama. One thing's for sure, it makes me glad to be single and uncomplicated!
Are local lekker?
Guys that is. I've been thinking that perhaps SA guys are not that bad really, when I think about the dubious charms of the exotic men I've seen...like the utterly divine, but overly smitten Swiss surfer who wanted me to take him with me (wherever I was going), or the Ukrainian guy who was so smooth her could slide up walls, aside from his suspect Russian mafia buddies of course. Also the charming Israeli I met on new year's who wanted me to call him, me and every other chick he met that night too that is. Typical annoying male faults notwithstanding, I'm beginning to think that local is the way to go.Here are a couple more reasons why local are lekker:- They're funny and entertaining - They have a cool vocab, and like to learn new things- They know what women want- They (sometimes) make us Proudly South African