Thursday, October 21, 2010

Living La Vida Rhodent

Yesterday was the end of my first year English lectures and tutorials, they taught me all they could and for my sake i hope i still remember it or else i foresee a huge problem! This being Rhodes University [University with the most alcohol consumption in the Southern Hemisphere apparently] being notorious as the gathering place and birthplace of all alcoholics we were having our last tutorial at The Rat and Parrot [said to be the bar that sells the most alcohol again in the Southern Hemisphere,we don't do anything small it would seem].


Upon arrival at 'The Rat' as it is affectionately know to all Grahamstownians, it was packed full of economics, management, geography and even Chinese tutorial groups there to give one last toast to an awesome year of scholarly productivity [that is the ruse at least ,Rhodents will stop at nothing simply to drink]. So there i was discussing post modernism in literature, art and all facets of post modern life over a double vodka and coke in the beer garden, mellow and content with my life as it has turned out and i thought to myself, this has been the time of my life and i always knew it but it wasn't until that moment sitting in the breeze of fresh spring trees without a care in the world but to live out the day in sublime happiness that the penny dropped.
Most unfortunate was that i had a boring Journalism tutorial straight afterwards, up a steep hill on campus, i quickly understood why drinking during a hot day is inadvisable, i was huffing and puffing, squiggling and squaggling my way up that hill sweating like a Tijuana whore. On my music player blaring at full volume was Oasis' Champagne Supernova and of all the people i've known and people i will come to know i missed my best friend the most.


'How many special people change
How many lives are living strange
Where were you while we were getting high
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you while we were getting high

Some day you will find me caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Some day you will find me caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova,
A champagne supernova in the sky

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you while we were getting high?

Some day you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Some day you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova

'cause people believe that they're
Gonna get away for the summer
'cause you and I, we'll never die
The world's still spinning round, we don't know why
Why, why, why, why

How many special people change
How many lives are living strange
Where were you while we were getting high
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you while we were getting high

Some day you will find me caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Some day you will find me caught beneath a landslide
In a champagne supernova,
A champagne supernova,

'cause people believe that they're
Gonna get away for the summer
But you and I, we'll never die
The world's still spinning round, we don't know why
Why, why, why, why

How many special people change
How many lives are living strange
Where were you while we were getting high


We were getting high'



[replace high with drunk,lol]
and just as i reached the building i get a call to come down to the pool to smoke hubbly and chill [which is also code for perve over the hot bods], i spent the rest of the day hanging out with friends, having spicy nachos for dinner and reveling like a pig in shit in my awesome life.
Of all the things this year has given me, it's given me a life unhindered, dreams uncomprehendable and growth immeasurable to who i am becoming. For the first time in my life i feel like i'm living and not just existing, i'm going places, i'm meeting new people, doing new things, feeling new things and knowing so much more than i did before.


While most focus on the partying, drinking and general debauchery which is synonymous with Rhodes University they fail to mention the family you find here, the friends who buy your food and electricity when you've spent all your money on lord knows what, the friends who carry your drunk and disorderly ass home and the friends who let you be who you are, whoever you decide that is. It seems la vida loca to most, it's la vida Rhodent to me.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Taebo Hoe

A few weeks back i went to a fairytale themed party as Ghetto Snow White in my Converse All Stars and long white dress [for lack of a better outfit]. Tragedy struck me blind when my size 32 dress wouldn't zip! Granted my breasteses have grown but not so drastically, it was then that i noticed the appendaged fat on the side preventing the poor zip from reaching it's desired destination. My flatmate had to zip me up and i am both pained and embarrassed to say a little skin got caught and screams were heard in the next room.
By no stretch of the imagination am i a fitness freak but i'm blessed with good genes and a fast metabolism ergo I've never really had to worry about it. However i'm a proud foodie, which means most things deemed for human consumption i will at one point consume [if they happen to be good,at many points]. So to combat inevitable obesity [because anyone who knows me knows not to even suggest dieting and portion control] i decided to get back on the old TAEBO and let Billy Blanks whip me into shape.


I made this decision on Sunday night, i was so excited i tossed and turned till the wee hours of the morning [like a child going on a holiday to a exciting destination, in my case destination get-back-in-your-dress]. The burning ring around my eyes, lack of fresh bottled water and lack of proper space didn't deter me [a premonition of my size 40 ass buying two seats at the airline counter kept me going].
Fortunately the basic workout lasts 28 minutes and 23 seconds [a minute longer and i would've died], there i was sweating like a Tijuana whore [one of the many reasons gym was not an option,i have a thing about sweating en masse, more to the point, being seen sweating]. I found myself competing with a ripped geriatric of no less than 60 in a two piece gold bra and tights [eeuw i know] i soon found to no avail as she breezed by the roundhouse kicks and double squats that i instantly gave up on. When Billy Blanks said that's all for today folks, i could've kissed him! The exhilaration i felt at planning to do something and seeing it through, getting back my health and shape was worth it...until today.
It's Tuesday and muscles i thought atrophied sometime in 2007 have rejuvenated with a painful vengeance as i cannot walk or laugh without feeling sharp pains in parts of my body i'm sure i wasn't born with! It's true about no pain, no gain...to console my paining body i had a brownie [okay i had 3] but i'll work them off tomorrow.

Look at me, i'm a Taebo hoe and i'm loving it!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Edge of the World

The exact memory bounces excitedly on the edge of my consciousness today. I remember my excited squeals, bounding up and down the sand dunes in my new bathing suit [how 90s is that word, lol] running against the sea breeze like I’d take flight if I ran fast enough, chasing the sea gulls who would fly off onto their perches on the cliffs and stare out at the ocean like something was crawling out of the horizon into their view.

Growing up in rural KwaZulu-Natal and then to a small town I’d always been surrounded by rivers, pumps, ponds and dams so I was no stranger to large and dangerous bodies of water. I must have been 4 or 5 [my mother never had the best memory], we drove to Port St John’s, the pride of the Pondoland region on the Wild Coast. I imagine it hasn’t changed much since except there are less sea shells and more pollution. The sun shone so much brighter by the sea, the air was cleaner and the breeze so much happier [I could eat ice cream all day] suffice it to say my 4 or 5 year old life was made! My mother told me to choose a spot and stand still, I remember the sand rapidly moving beneath my feet tickling me while the sea seemed to draw me in, I ran off screaming scared that it would carry me off [parents really shouldn’t tell their kids these things, they tend to haunt for life].
 It was all so scary and exciting at the same time and I revelled in that feeling and I think that’s the feeling we all live for, that new thrill, unexplainable yet all consuming, caution to the salty wind and a day adventure for the ages. It’s true that you are the same person you were when you were 5, older and perhaps wiser but still that kid asking too many questions for your parents to answer; in awe of the ocean in a shell and overwhelmed by the vastness of the world just outside your door.
Watching all those spy movies there’s always a satellite scene, zooming and zoning in onto some location roaming for the bad guy’s whereabouts [he’s usually somewhere in the Caribbean] and in that instant the bad guy is found lounging at the beach; Mojito in hand surrounded by gorgeous bikini clad locals vying for his attention. And that’s how I’ve always felt about the ocean, the edge of the world where I can always be found [if you happen to have a high power government satellite].
When you stand at the edge of the sea, you’re at the edge of a continent with a sprawling ocean before you, life and death beneath going on as it has for eons. When I stand at the edge of the ocean I’m a blip on the face of the visible world, I like to think God can see me clearly.

I like to believe I can jump in and be carried off into another universe like a black hole does in outer space, I like to believe I’m at the start of something so that when I step back I’m in a new day, all the previous washed away by the sea, carried off the edge into some endless abyss.


Sunday, October 3, 2010

High Class Escort

It is nights like this with a 3000 word Psychology essay due in 14 hours with no intention of starting anytime soon [ergo this post] that i wonder to myself why education was such a sterling option. I can't help but think perhaps there are simpler ways to be an influential magazine editor/Pulitzer prize winning author,of course deep down i know there are but they simply aren't available to me for various reasons starting with my father killing me if he even caught me day dreaming about leaving school.
So it occured to me,in a different life i would gladly be a High Class Escort.
And by escort i mean step out of the rich,lonely and socially inadequate mens petrol guzzling Avant Garde European super car to all their company do's and high school reunions in a dress that comes short of both my pelvis and the president's salary in jewellery that could buy a small island country out of debt from whatever western super power is exploiting it's natural resources and corrupting it's culture. After which i would be dropped off by the chauffeur who has taken quite the liking to me and so have i. [no freaky business...well unless he's cute].
So in my vigilance to not write my essay i decided to investigate,as i type this imagine the voice of a local news reporter standing somewhere in a dimly lit passage about to bust some illegal ring operating in the greater CBD [for some reason that situation is very common]




The English have long been famed for bedroom antics that mimic their weather,wet and cold. So imagine my shock when i googled 'high class escort' and the first hits were all  London based, due to water-tight legalities i can't name any or provide links but let me tell you for any man in need of that kind of company,the home pages speak for themselves! The Europeans have always been a tad more adventurous than most so i though let me see what South Africa has on this subject and to my shock turns out we too are rife with these agencies in big cities and small. When the word escort is spoken,most people hear prostitute,not so. These agencies are legal productive businesses,the escorts earn healthy salaries and afford lavish lifestyles most can only dream of [especially on a Sunday night with an impossible essay due] and most just socialise and entertain their clients with no financial transactions for sexual favours [officially anyway].
Hugh Grant and Divine Brown [i shudder], Pretty Woman starring Julia Roberts and even famous blogger Brooke Magnanti who began the blog http://belledejour-uk.blogspot.com/ to chronicle her double life as a London call girl to support her doctoral studies [some people seem to be very dedicated to this education thing]. She now has a book out [everybody has a book deal!] and a television series Secret Diary of a Call Girl, starring Billie Piper .




I would dine with impresarios trusting to avoid the Steak Tartar and dinner fork as a weapon against the soufflĂ©, spend all day shopping at exclusive boutiques then sleep soundly knowing my nest egg is safe in a secret swiss bank account...NOT! As easy as it all seems, i still would feel there is just something fundamentally uneasy about being paid to be company but then i'm sure a few extra pounds in my Prada and a spa day would put me right at ease with my middle class conscience...
Ah and they say alternate personalities are a sign of an unstable personality and deep rooted subconscious problems [i may not want to write the essay but i know what i would if i wanted to,shouldn't that be enough?]