another draft - early (cold) days in Bonn.

Sitting on the 614 bus now, going to Stadthalle, from whence I shall catch the u-bahn to (something). `listening to Michael Buble now, who is a pro at making one feel warm and fuzzy inside. This is important today because it is today that I turn a quarter of a century old. i.e. 25. How’s that?! Feeling a little lonely because would of course like to be with the people I love, but I think it’s a sign of my 25-ness that `I am alone in a foreign city. Am I big person now? I wonder.

I’m also quite chuffed with myself because I managed to trick a German into thinking that I was German - at least for a little bit. I normally take the 612 bus into Stadthalle, but for some reason it failed to pitch. She, being my fellow bus-waiter was just aas confuddled as I was. So after a while I shook my head and said ‘Wo ist der bus?!’ She too shook her head and started rattling off in German. Instead of freaking out, I just smiled, shook my head, and looked longingly in another direction. She continued rambling on in German, to which I decided to say ‘Ich fahre (on the) secs ein vier’ which I THINK means ‘I travel on the six one four.’ By this stage she had worked out that I was either slightly slow in the head and just couldn’t speak properly, or that I was indeed a foreigner. I have a suspicion though that she thought the former. Anyway, I motioned to the 614 bus stop and said something about ‘stadthalle’ and she seemed to understand then what I met. I then wished a very merry auf fideisen and went on my way. Then, to my happiness when the 614 bus did eventually come around she came running up to jump on it herself. I like to think that it was my advice that convinced her to run and take the 614. ☺

I am on my way to InWEnt now to meet with more participants. It is snowing today, and Bonn is really beatufiul! I am expecting to do some major slipping either tomorrow or later on today when the snow turns to ice. YAY!!!!

In the meantime, I have some snow photos for you

(2012 edit: I don't anymore - because they were deleted when my hard drive went kaput :( )

another draft not posted. a longer one.

As I look at the beautiful border collie lying feet away from me in the Cafe Einstein, ever so content with her/her human going over university work with a friend, I think to myself that it has been an interesting past few days.

It started off on Thursday with my quest for a laundromat. I duly did a search on the internet for a wasch salon Bonn, and came up with a whole list of places, including one that was relatively close to where I live. And so I went home on Thursday afternoon, gathered my washing, and trudged off to this wasch salon. I got there and discovered that it really was a dry cleaning set up that had washing facilities available. These, however, were done for you, and you were unable to do them yourself. Because of this, they charged Euro 9.50 for one wash, with an extra Euro 3 to fold. (???!) I was quite proud of myself for managing to communicate what I wanted done, and it only really dawned on me once I had left the shop that I had agreed to pay between R130 - R150 for a single wash. I went back to the shop, but only to add to the pile my GAP jersey... Not to cancel the wash (twas too scared to do this, you see... :( )

I then went (slightly bruised) to the supermarket around the corner to buy some groceries. I was ecstatic to discover that they sold Japanese rice crisps, a treat that I indulged in on a daily basis in Japan because they are outrageously delicious. I also decided to be brave by asking the lady at the meat counter for some kassler. I said "ein bischen (a little) kassler bitte" and she pointed to a huge clump of kassler, and I said "yah das gud!" She then took the huge clump, plonked it on the table, proceeded to wrap it up and then charged me Euro 6.50 for the entire clump. Obviously, she thought I wanted to the whole clump, which I apparently think is "ein bischen." Further wounded after the laundry service, I sheepishly said 'dankesurne' and walked away. However, I reasoned with myself that I would need to suck it up because I just couldn't pay almost R80 for a clump of kassler. So I went back and said, "Entschuldigung (sp?), das ist ZU Gross (big)." She then started going on at me in German, and then pointed to a slice of kassler that was hidden below the big clump of it. Evidently, I should have asked for the slice. She wrapped that up, and again I sheepishly said 'dankesurne' and run away. I then got to the check out and rang up all my items. I didn't have enough cash on me, so had to pay by credit card. Except the machine didn't accept Master Card, and so I had to run out the store, draw money, and come back and pay. It was B-L-I-N-D. 

Friday night we went back to the place we went to on Wednesday night, called Havana Cafe. It rocks because it is Mexicanish (although you could also order Indian there?!) and they play music I love! We then went to a club called Nochterm (which I assume means Nocturne - pretty cool name) which played a lot of heavy metal - as well as the obligatory song (which I HATE) about the dumbass girl who kissed another girl and who now faces a dilemma in her mind because she liked it, even though it felt so wrong. Normally not a fan of heavy metal, but I found myself headbanging to it much better! Maybe it was because I had a red bull in me

a draft post from sometime in early May that was not posted. but now is.

I am a most intermitant packed. I pack stuff, then I do something else. No focus, I tell you.

Rather excited for my trip to Londonium tomorrow. Even excited about getting up at 4am tomorrow morning to catch my early morning flight. It sounds terribly business-man-y to me, even though I am on Easyjet and not British Airways business class. One day - think big. And also evokes childhood memories of getting up early for a flight. There is a particular buzz in the air. Maybe it's in anticipation of the smell of jet fuel, the thrill of turbulence, the sight of neatly-pressed airline uniforms or the excitement and exoticism of far-flung destinations.

Still recovering from my dramatic experience this morning. Woke up at about 5am in screaming pain from a spasm in my leg. Screamed blue murder for about 2 minutes, and yelled 'fuck' a couple of times too. The neighbours were awake (they awaken early, Portuguese speaking people you see), so one can only wonder what they were thinking. I concluded that I must have had a particularly terrible spasm - so terrible that it occurred to me mid-spasm that I must tell facebook about it - because I ate about a kilogram of grapes the night before. I could live on the stuff. That and hotdogs, of course.

Cobwebs and bullies

1. Yes, I did not post in 2011.

2. This evening, however, I decided to have a clean out of my online profile (reason below). Whilst having a clean out, I came across many many old cobwebs that really are just that, unfortunately. Included is Guy and my idea for the 'Joburg Review', as well as Sarah, Shakti and my idea for 'Totally Tofu'. Two fabulous ideas, and not much execution. But it's okai - urbanjoburg.blogspot.com and jozipod.tumblr.com have been going great guns.

3. One such cobweb, however - which was not really such a cobweb - was this blog. It filled me with such happiness to see the few posts I did manage to write whilst in Germany. I will treasure this blog forever, for it documents a fantastic time in my life, and will nurture it in an attempt to keep it current.

4. The reason why I decided to clean out my online profile was because I was quite freaked out by a (seriously long) article I read on the New Yorker, about a gay first year student who committed suicide shortly after his roommate filmed him canoodling with his boyfriend. The story around it shocked me and angered me, particularly in light of the St. Davids story that recently made headlines about how some Grade 8 boy was forced to mock rape a chair by a bunch of matriculants as part of an initiation process. Some acquaintance on my facebook timeline wrote a post about ridiculous it was that this was getting so much attention, and that the kid should 'harden the fuck up', because if not then we're raising a bunch of unbalanced pansies unable to defend themselves.

This attitude seriously pissed me off, perhaps because I went through similarly emotionally abusive situations during high schools - ones that I have never really been able to forget. One was where an English teacher asked the class whether although one particular character was a faggot, was he still a good person.

Anyway, I responded to said acquaintance's reply as follows:

how does being forced by a superior to do something quite demeaning to your character harden you the fuck up? If I were a parent, I would have an absolute fit if my son was made to 'mock rape' a chair, in a school environment or otherwise. Firstly, what on earth does raping a chair achieve in one's life? Secondly, how on earth does rape initiate you into a young adult? Thirdly, how does refraining from raping a chair turn you into an unbalanced pansy? And lastly, I would argue that it is the bullies who force others to do something as demeaning as raping a chair who are the real 'unbalanced pansies.'

5. The above has I think shown me why I studied law to the end, and some more: I really do hate injustice, but most importantly, I really hate bullies.

I enjoyed this hot chocolate at the transport museum in London, which I recently went to to visit Guy. I miss him :(

Joburg | A painful commute to work

See the link below. Joburg the world's third most painful commute. Who woulda thought?!

Need to address this... quite urgently.

Where’s the World’s Most Painful Commute?

THE 2010 post?

Should we see how this goes? A new design, a post in 2010. Perhaps the only post in 2010.

I have found myself sometimes reading this blog to remind myself about Germany. Luckily I managed to scramble together some posts during my time there, although undoubtedly I should have done more. Like Sarah does in her blog on Japan - the girl could make a book out of her fantastic stories.

I personally have been very busy with urban joburg, a blog which rather has gone from strength to strength I think. Quite proud of my achievements there. Should you be one of those who comes across this blog, go read some - urbanjoburg.blogspot.com. But then please come back here. Quite amazing really that you might have stumbled on this blog in the first place.

I have finally got my arse into doing articles. Apart from working in a very nice firm with very friendly people without any typical corporate agendas etc etc etc, and also apart from some interesting work, the work is largely quite monotonous. But I guess such is the nature of WORK - go to work, work, come home - and I consider myself lucky that I work for a firm which respects my talent as an individual and what I can bring to the team. Such a model employee I am.

I am also lecturing part-time again at my old university, and quite simply love it. Even though my students informed me that the lesbian minister fired from her church for marrying her parnter should be reinstated back into the church because she could then be 'cured', I absolutely love that they are so eager to learn and engage with him about issues of constitutional law. I simply have to go into academia once I'm done. Need a PhD first, of course, but that's no worries - will just give me an opportunity to go live overseas again - juuhuu!

Am contemplating my splendid LONG weekend ahead which will be spent largely by doing things I would like to do but haven't really been able to do because of work. One such thing is of course blogging - hence all my blog posts. I have done five tonight - four on Urban Joburg, one here. FIVE.

Anyway, no real way of updating you on my life thus far. So just going to throw in some photos which I have taken with my blackberry, some of which has landed up on joziberry.tumblr.com.

Guy on left. Mark in middle. Kev on right.

Amore the rottweiler

Shakespeare the rottweiler

Seapoint Promenade

Seattle cappuccinos

Pastries at Moemas, Parktown North

Gorgeous early Joburg winter morning

Cape Town holiday apartment in city

deflating and reflecting

ooo ooo ooo a post. bring out the candy floss for a honker of a celebration.

I am back from Germany. Back in South Africa. Perhaps this means that I will blog more frequently. I say this because life back home is just somewhat more dull than life in Germany. I suppose this is to be expected, considering the katrillions of adventures I embarked on on a daily basis. Stockholm the one week, Geneva the next. 11 countries in 6 months. I really was one lucky mutha beep.

Indeed back here I am often left wondering what to do. I warn you dear Sarah-Jane - I am quite sure you will feel this way on your return. No kiddies to poke you on a daily basis. No hot Japanese J-boys to lust over. No more bento. No more real sushi.

So what I have been trying to do is create the excitement. Last week I went with Guy & Friends on a canopy tour in the Magaliesberg mountain. Briefly, one is harnessed in (oh the jokes we made with the harnessing in....) and one swings on a metal rope across valleys. At times this goes quite fast and one gets the distinct impression that one is going to become 'rock paintings' (as Tshepiso the guide put it) on the rock faces on the other side of the cliff. But most times it's a gentle stroll across rather picturesque scenery.

Other excitements included a picnic with Guy & Friends yesterday in the Shakespeare Gardens. It was a gorgeous Johannesburg winter's day, and I actually fell into a deep sleep basking in the winter sun. Indeed the Joburg winter might be dusty and brown and bleugh, but at least we get the winter sun.

And then today I bought poppies for my gardens. I'm hoping they'll pop out and be all colourful and gay in their flowering. During my 6 months of being away, my mini-garden spade ran away from home, and so I was forced to pot my pansies with hands. I screeeeeched like a pansy (how can pansies screech?? They are flowers and therefore MUTE) when I almost picked up those pinks transparent slugs. One downside to gardening.

Anyway, I guess I'm coming down from the high that was my adventure. I worry that I won't get to experience again, and that all I have are the memories and the photos that I am rather proud of. I guess this is a lot, and as that stupid (and so frikkin obvious, duh!) cliche goes, all things come to an end. It's kind of like recovering from a break-up, one where there was no real proper goodbye. An emotional roller coaster, so many goods and many bads too, but the net effect being a highly satisfying, fun and above all, a growing experience that ended in a WHOOSH.

So, as I listen to the words of Yvonne Fair singing how "it SHOULDA BEEN ME, whoa-oa-oh, people believe me, it SHOULDA BEEN ME!!", I end with a photo of gorgeous Santorini. Guy (sugar cannister man below) joined me on this two week mini-adventure to Mykonos, Santorini and Istanbul, and we both reveled in the absolute beauty that are the Greek isles.