Today on Postsecret II

I hope not. I pray not.

Chocolate Festivals

Alas I missed one last week Saturday because of S-Os sister's wedding.

Though the universe has been both kind and cruel for there is another right here this weekend in my home town. It is in the spirit of Easter. (And what a jolly good time it is simply because of all the chocolate around. Its my heaven.)

And how can that be cruel you may wonder? Well...there is a family function I have to attend later today, so I will just catch the end of the festival on Sunday.

*SOB*

Blogger is hormonal

Or perhaps it is just my silly ole dial up connection. But let me admit to the struggle of late: unable to blog.
ACK! CATASTROPHE! CALAMITY! TRAGEDY BEYOND NOTE!

If truth be told, I just cross my fingers whenever I log on nowadays and hope and pray and even try to blackmail the power that is that I can blog and read others too.

Today my answer was in the affirmative and I am ever so very grateful.

Blessed be.

I had to dig into the remaining chocolate after we served it to guests with strawberries and marshmallows...

It was the night of celebration and dance, before the S-O's sisters wedding.

And yes I was referred to as the future daughter-in-law more often than not. Needless to say that every electron in my body went into panic mode. ME? MARRIED? HAH! Unimaginable right now, and we are both still SO YOUNG.

Anyway, once the lack of sleep kicked in I was able be more calm, more zombie like and heard peoples comments from a distance.

Today on Postsecret

I wonder how many others feel this way? More secrets at Shhhh...secrets revealed on link list.

Haunting fairytales

Once upon a time, as in this morning, I grabbed the vacuum cleaner along with the duster and decided to spring clean...er... autumn clean rather.
Happily going along, with hydrating water breaks in between, I encountered few of those evil dust bunnies.
Nasty creatures those.
They were quickly slain thanks to the swift vacuum, my modern day sword.
That wicked witch's plan to over take the house with grime and dust shall not go by without a fight.
Musing her overthrow, I found a pea beneath the cushion of my favourite fall-asleep-in-front-of-the-TV couch.
Aghast, I brought forth the vacuum for the umpteenth time.
This 'PJ princess' was not going to be defeated that easily.
But did it mean that I am not a princess?
Trying to run away from that thought, I carried on frantically from room to room.
Thanks to Hans Christian Andersen, every girl fancies themselves a princess at least once in their lives.
Almost becoming delirious with dread that I could not feel a pea beneath one measly little tinee tiny cushion, lo and behold, I came upon a revelation.
I do not necessarily have to be that princess.
After all my raggedy appearance qualified me to play Cinderella today.
And tomorrow if I decide to just sleep in,all day, and the day after that, then I can be Sleeping Beauty.
And if I find seven dwarfs (highly unlikely, unless I buy some garden statues) then I can be Snow White.
Perhaps one day a prince will come along.
And maybe we can live happily ever after, only after the house hold chores are split 50-50.
Womens lib also did wonders for princesses it seems.
The End.

The sands are alive

Forget about the sun block, blond beach babes and savvy surfer studs when going to the coast... I had the sand and wind for company.
She, the wind seemed angry: shrieking and screaming. About what? I am not too sure. This Jozi gal does not speak Port Elizabeth.
Him, the sand, did not even know what hit him really. He was whisked off, like a floating ghost brushing the ground.
In the distance pile and piles of sand.
Sand dunes: the result of the love between sand and wind.
But Friday was a different story.
I realised I came in between this lovers spat, for the sand was thrown into my eyes and every orifice. My freshly washed hair became stiff with sand transforming into bits of mud.
While the He, the sand exfoliated, She,the wind managed to even silence my thoughts.
Though it feels like a desert, it is really at the ocean.
The contrast makes one feel really tiny in this beautiful ball of blue, green and brown.
And it never ceases to astound me.

Life in the slow lane

Waking up at 9.
Breakfast at brunch.
A bath anytime ONLY after noon.
Lunch at tea.
Dress code strictly PJs.
Supper as a midnight snack.
Ah, the life of the semi-employed, semi-retired, aspiring full time bum.
Is it really all that, to be a rat plucked out of the race?
Time shall reveal, as she usually does.
Cheers.

Water works are acting up

S-O: How is the last day?
Priya: I want to cry.
S-O: So do that then.

A scary and exciting time

An eight month journey and today, it is over. Sure, my stint here started off bad, but working at a national weekly flipped to be a decadent chocolate experience. In the name of work, I have(and number 12 could be the craziest):

1. Stayed at the Palace at the Lost City, Sun City.
2. Covered the Vodacom Spring Break at the Valley of the Waves.
3. Was a passenger in a Ferrari to Sun City.
4. Visited Swaziland for a media tour.
5. Visited Mpumalanga for a media tour.
6. Covered the South African Film and Television Awards (SAFTA).
7. Went to the Sanlam Fashion week in July 2006.
8. Finished up with the Audi Fashion Week in February 2007.
9. Went on a muddy 4X4 trail in Port St. Johns.
10. Went for the Magaliesburg Canopy Tour.
11. Covered many social events, who knew so many parties happened during the week?
12. And, er, I got to pee standing up, thanks to the P-Mate. (Yeah, you men out there, nothing is sacred to your species any longer)

But above all, it is the people I have met. From being just friends, they have become a dysfunctional family away from home, whom I cannot help but love. And needless to say, they will all be missed, everyone of them.

I confessed to the S-O* that I am sad.
"Enjoy it, while it lasts," he replies.


S-O = Significant Other