Tomorrow...

Hippy Dippy Trail

If I could be a street sign...'cos normal people wish to be street signs at some point in their lives

Mallorca, Spain

Thrilling and tickling delights

Berate me - I know full well I have been neglectful, selfish and childishly indulgent for trying to forget to, erm, think...for trying to not face up to the inevitable. Things do not last forever and likewise my time in London draws to close. Sooner rather than later I will be back in SA. But at least I will once again have one of my vitals at my side: the S.O.

So perhaps Belgium was just what I needed: a soothing chocolate balm. A smell so sweet hovers over the country you want to eat the air and get the sides of your mouth sticky with oxygen. Perhaps I should move there because chocolate shops are like hundreds and thousands on a cupcakes (you know, those wee colourful sweetie thingies that decorate biscuits and/or cakes). Sense and speech took a fancy flight as I mumbled incoherently. I am sure there were a few pitiful stares that said: "Shame, the loon is out of the loony bin for a day visit."

And I still cannot decide whether the chocolate or the men* are yummier attraction of that country. Phew, tough decisions...

*A girl can look, even if there is an S.O whom she loves with all her heart...just a F.Y.I to you S.O fans. 

Great company for a midnight prowl

It is a Thursday night, 23.32, and oh whats that? My stomach makes a low growling sound. I feel like a bottomless pit lately because no amount of food seems to be enough. So I saunter down the stairs as quietly as possible for a bowl of cereal. I switch on the radio and R.E.M's Everyone Hurts is getting some airplay. I roll my eyes to the heavens and beyond. Okay Universe I know you're there! When you are feeling outta sorts, as I am lately, that song makes me want to jump over the bridge or pull the trigger. Whatever the method, that song will drive me to do it. Don't get me wrong, I think R.E.M are great and the song has meaning. But not when you are blue, suffering from both insomnia and exhaustion while eating cereal close to midnight.  

Winter...

'Tis the season of lost hats on floors instead of keeping heads warm, single gloves floating sadly in puddles of water, forlorn umbrellas hanging off the hand rails in trains and scarves longing to be around their owners' necks once again rather than blowing aimlessly in the wind. 

OCD lady seeks ghostly mystery man

He is in there: the Opera Garnier in Paris.

Picture: Prixie 

It was just me and Paris for the weekend. Nope, not Hilton,rather the city. Just me and her and endless discoveries...walking the streets, feeling my toes go cold in sleet, using the Metro and trying to find edible vegetarian food. 

And the glorious cherry on the top of this trip is the Opera Garnier. Obviously not as well known as the Louvre, nor the Eiffel Tower or even Notre Dame but it is thee place that made my heart give small sharp excited beats, like electric shocks in tiny doses. 

You must be wondering why? Of course I will forgive you for pondering that question. I mean it is not that well known that the Phantom of the Opera is based on a French novel written in the early 20th century. It is also not that well known that the book was written by an investigative reporter Gaston Leroux. And it is also not that well known that the book was also inspired by folklore at the time of a mysterious figure that lived on the lake underneath the Opera House. And all of this is based on events that took place at the Opera Garnier. Because there is water underneath the building.

"It's so the humidity does not effect the building, " said the guide.

"The Phantom of the Opera is based on this story. A French journalist wrote it in the early 1900s. But of course it is not true."

While I politely nodded as she spoke, I guffawed her in my mind. Silly guide, what does she know anyway?

So I went to find him - the Phantom. And perhaps I did find him. Maybe we shared a passionate lip locking moment. Or he could have just told me his life story. Or it could have all been imagined. But then again, nothing at all could have happened, just an innocent tour of one of the attractions in Paris. 

Home

Anyone who has read my previous post would know what an agonising January it has been. Nevertheless decisions have been made. In a few months time I will be in SA again. Not because I cannot cope without S.O, but simply because I do not want to be without him. And London may even be in our future. You just never know what lies in store.

And then I seen the above pic on post secret this week. Ta da! Thank you Universe!

A whirlwind visit

S.O came to London. He went back home. It seems he has taken my heart back with him. Our first "Goodbye, see you later" in April 2008 was hard. The second one in January 2009 was absolute torture.

I love London so and I am willing to stay. Nevertheless things seem a bit lack lustre since he packed his bags (and my heart) and headed back home. To see the magnitude of love in his eyes made me drown in enraptured joy. And it is that love that can make me re-assess what I always wanted out of life.

Granted, I am emotional at the moment but I need to make a decision. London or S.O?

Skanky, in her infinite moments of wisdom, asked:
so what can u afford to lose? what are you able to live without?

Crunch time.

Oh and besides all my ranting, may you all have a blessed 2009. May it be more than everything you want it to be.

I'm a very bad blogger

So distracted am I by S.O's visit I failed to acknowledge Choco's second birthday! *GASP* I know, I'm thoroughly atrocious. (I fully place blame on S.O for my forgetfulness, even though there was a reminder on my phone. Tee hee)

To my silent partner, ever present and constant sponge, HAPPY 2ND BIRTHDAY! 

No one ever fully realises how much their blog seeps into their soul. It becomes as essential as breathing, really. 

What better way to celebrate than with virtual chocolate cake? Go on, have a piece, you know you want to. 

London brace yourself

S.O arrives TOMORROW! Flutterflies turn my tummy into a disco. This is the longest separation we've had in all our seven years.You know, I should brace myself too...

It's all about the P

I reckon I am one of the worst people to tag. You see I always tell myself I will do it, er, soon. Then I start to think about it and promise to do it, er, soon. Then a week has gone, and a few days short of two weeks and there is still no tag on this blog. Feeling under pressure, I start to squirm in my seat whenever I think about it. So even though it is 2:34 am on a Sunday morning, I had this impulsive urge to do this tag. So thanks Seher. Apologies for the delay! *sheepish grin*

TAG 10 PEOPLE INCLUDING THE ONE THAT SENT THIS TO YOU.

- USE THE 1ST LETTER OF YOUR NAME TO ANSWER EACH OF THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS.
- THEY HAVE TO BE REAL PLACES, NAMES,THINGS. NOTHING MADE UP!
- TRY TO USE DIFFERENT ANSWERS IF THE PERSON WHO TAGGED YOU HAD THE SAME 1ST INITIAL.
- YOU CAN'T USE YOUR NAME FOR THE BOY/GIRL NAME QUESTION.

1. What is your name: Prixie (that was easy!)
2. A 4 Letter word: Poof
3. A Boys Name: Peter 

4. A Girls Name: Penny
5. An Occupation: Phantom 

6. A Color: Purple 
7. Something you wear: Pencil skirt! 

8. A Beverage: Pina Colada 
9. A Food: Pizza 

10. Something found in the bathroom: Paste, as in tooth paste
11. A place: Poland 

12. A Reason for being late: Procrastination
13. Something you shout: Oh Poo!

I know I am supposed to tag 10 people however, I'm feeling rebellious. 

It's frosty up here

London welcomed me with open arms and warm air. The flowers burst forth with colour and sweet scents. Blue skies, erratic hot spells. There was a tangible magical euphoria everywhere. Coming from South Africa, I thought: "These fools, happy with sort sort of normal weather!" Yes, because blue skies and clear days are the norm back home. 

Now that the trees are bare, and the only decorations in the gardens are the melting diamonds in the morning, I realise why summer is such a treasure in the UK.  I now see people bundled in scarves, gloves and coats. Faces a scrunched against the wind and backs are hunched. 

Yet, I find a different sort of beauty during this season. Sure it is tempting to just stay in my cosy bed and hide from the world, but the colds air seems to invigorate me. Everything seems cleaner and I am eager to see snow. So c'mon Mother Nature, I await your winter glory. 

A love triangle

It's an eternal tale, retold in so many different formats. So much so I yawn at the mere thought of it. Then why oh why has The Phantom of the Opera (the play and movie) so captured my attention and has left me enraptured? 

*Note: Plot spoilers below*

It saddens me so that Christine treated the Phantom as she did. In my opinion, he gave her, her voice - so to speak. Raoul would have never notice her if she remained one of the background dancers. Thanks to the Phantom training her, she was pushed into the limelight. And it was the limelight which brought her to Raoul's attention. 

I also think the scene where he first takes her to his lair is one of the most romantic ever in movie history. It is charged with passion and subtle seduction. 

I understand Christine loved the Phantom because their souls recognised fellow musical spirits. Their religion of music brought them together and flamed their attractions. Whereas Raoul was from her past - their history made her feel comfortable. He was good, stable and always there. To me he was the easy choice.

In the end though the Phantom proves to be the better man. Even though he is a maddened genius, psycho killer and very much a stalker, I still root for Team Phantom. There is just a certain something about his character...

Some of my favourite lines:

The Phantom: Let your soul take you where you long to be. 

The Phantom: You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night... 

The Phantom: Past all thought, of "if" or "when" -no use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . .

The world is sweeter in a chocolate shop

It's appalling that I have only seen my cousin and his wife once since I have been in London. So I decided to see them yesterday. And oh boy, do they know what makes me tick: they took me to a shop called The Chocolate Alchemist. Flavoured chocolates, normal milk varieties, flavoured dark and white hot chocolates, chocolate coated nuts and so much more! Oh divine! Heaven! Joy! My only regret is I did not have a bigger bag and could not by more. I am still trying to catch my breath...

*If chocolate was a religion, there would be world peace.*