Hi, Miguel

Please stop calling me. If you persist, I will not be held responsible for what I will do. That will entail stringing you along for the next two or three months, using you as a substitute for Victor.

You don’t want it. Hell, I don’t want it. So stop now. Please understand that when I say I am in love with someone, I really mean it. Saturday’s lunch was great. Thank you. You should’ve let me paid my bit. And good god, you should stop being so very homophobic. It isn’t endearing.

The outfit told me you tried too hard to impress. A more liberal way of thinking would’ve impressed me.

Do you want to know why I always sound miffed when you phone me? Because it’s you, not Victor who’s calling me. That’s why. Yes, it’s a terrible excuse, but I want to be honest with you.

See, I just can’t see myself with you. It’s not your lack of a job (though it certainly does not count in your favour); it’s about your attitude towards some things. The homosexual sex thing just clinched the deal for me. Surely two consenting adults are allowed to do whatever they want to? As long as it does not involve small children or animals, I’m quite happy for them to explore their sexuality.

Oh, and the reading thing. If you want to get into my pants, you’d have to learn to do better than tell me you find reading boring.

You’re a very attractive guy. I’ll admit that. And you’re rather smart, or else I would not enjoy talking to you as much as I did. But that’s about it. Oh, and you’re a great dancer. lol.

But yeah. You’re too needy. Which is funny, because I’m like that with Victor. You should’ve seen me on Friday night. 😉 It wasn’t a pretty sight. Funny, yes, certainly. Pretty? Nope.

So, anyway. This is it. No more. I have made a pledge to myself that I will not indulge in gratuitous sex any longer. And that’s all you will really be. A pretty boy with nice lips.

This is what I got. Laurika Rauch’s 19 Treffers van 21 jaar. I love it, I love it, I love it! I got it last night at Musica. Was listening intermittently while watching The West Wing, which is my current obsession.

It brings back fond memories of the early nineties, when I would watch television and Wielie Walie or Liewe Heksie would be punctuated with ad breaks featuring Ms. Rauch’s music. My all-time favourite song? Mmmkay. It’s Stuur groete aan Mannetjies Roux. I’m not quite sure what makes this song so special. Back then I didn’t even realise how sad it is. I only liked the cadence.

But now I listen to the CD with a more mature ear and I marvel at her wonderful words. It’s lovely. I think I’ll buy an Afrikaans CD every couple of months or so. God, it’s fabulous.

EM&CT has a meme going on and invited us to do the same, if we feel like it. So, here goes with my list of things that speaks volumes about my tastes.

I got this little table in 2006, at a “junk store” in Kloof Street. Yes, that one, the one that closed down. 😦 Very, very sad. Toby hates it. I absolutely adore it.

I love tea. Guess which ones resulted from a splendid pilfering experiment?

As an aspirant alcoholic, I need to have wine available to me at all times. I got the 1.5litre bottle for mahala at my local bottle store. It was advertised at the ridiculous price of R1, so I advised the store manager that I want it at that price. She agreed – after a slight fight – and I walked out with a free bottle of vino. Toby bought me the bottle of vino with the bottle stopper inside. It’s the most expensive bottle of wine he’s ever bought. And damn delicious, too.

It is a Fleur Du Cap Merlot Unfiltered 2004. It is divine. Trust me. I’m having my second half glass for the evening.

I’ve had this little skull for as long as I can remember. It was my mom’s. My grandpa gave it to her when she was a little girl. Call me sentimental.

Some fridge magnets, and more. I bought a yearly ticket to the Aquarium and that’s the sticker that came in my welcome pack. The fridge magnets I got from Evolvefish.

Me likes this

30/03/2008

I like. Very. Much. Might get it (the earrings, obviously) soon. Here’s a bigger image.

 Tarah Sweeney
12:54pm Mar 28th
Hi, Patrick

Did you get my message last night?

Tarah
 _______________________________________________________________________________________
Patrick
6:40pm Mar 28th
I did, but i dont think i am taking the flat anymore…. sorry. Good luck, try cape ads….
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Tarah Sweeney
10:26pm Mar 28th
Fuck, you people are flaky.

Good riddance.

 _______________________________________________________________________________________
Patrick
Today at 4:05pm
if you moved in with me,i would’ve shagged you… so maybe its for the better

I need a new living space. And I would prefer staying by myself, but realise it might not be possible. So, I’m more than willing to share with someone who is decent and not a tv freak.

Problem is just that I have some of my own furniture, lovingly selected throughout the years, and this poses a problem. I’ve been to view some flats that are so fully furnished, it’s overwhelming. Why, oh why did I get my own washing machine? This makes life difficult. Very much so. And my own fridge? There is just not any space for a second fridge in most of these flats.

What I would like to do, is find someone who also has minimal furniture and then we can do some flat hunting together.

Anyone?

…that I feel happiest when I think of dying.

Fabulous! Although I think they could’ve done it sooner. Even I am a bit slow to take note of it, as MyBroadband has an article on it here. I wonder how many people fell for the iBurst promotion? I mean, come on now, paying R49 for 40Megs is a rip off that not even Telscum will inflict upon us. Or perhaps they do, in the form of paying R88 for 80Megs. But at least they spell it out quite plainly.

Relax, just do it

23/03/2008

I’m too aggro. Again, last night, I morphed into this other woman. She is loud, rude and really pushy. I’ve had anger issues for a long time, mostly fuelled by Toby. One of Toby’s friends claim I used to be very sweet. LOL. And that Toby made me bitter. He’s probably right. I mean, this guy gains nothing by telling Toby he is the cause of my anger.

I’m so embarrassed. My friends were embarrassed. Mind you, I was only looking out for them. Honestly. I guess I took it a little bit too far. Especially when I wanted to know “What’s with the finger pointing?” and using “dude” and getting closer and closer to the guy’s face. I swear he thought I was going to hit him. I probably was, who knows?

Last night’s little altercation probably did a lot of damage to my relationship with Beatrice and Susan. Because I also got into a tiff with Susan’s friend. Ai. No, it wasn’t just the wine that got me acting like this. I think it’s all my pent up anger that is only now boiling over.

This is not a very pc thing to say, but I’m itching for a fist-fight. I’ve never been in one, and I would love to start one. And I’m not talking about a slapathon. I want a properse fight.

At first, I only noticed black women who wear shoes like these. It used to make me wonder “Why?”. I would look at their pretty outfits, and compare it to the shoes they’re wearing, and get slightly angry. Don’t ask me why.

Eventually, I started noticing this disturbing trend among white women as well. I initially thought it must be a class thing. How else to explain it?

But no, the woman I photographed this morning appears to be part of the so-called middle class. I’m pretty sure she would be able to afford R20 at her local Nanucci’s to repair the shoe’s heels. R20 is really not much to pay, right? But if R20 isn’t a lot of money to pay, why do I see so many women with heels like these? Do they just not care? Are they not uncomfortable, walking around in shoes like that? And no, I’m not just referring to emotionally, though I would be traumatized if I had to wear shoes like that. I’m talking about physically uncomfortable. Surely the shoes scrape against the pavement when they walk?

What’s more, it doesn’t look pretty. That is my biggest problem. Sure, you can’t zoom in on the photo in the way I am able to, so it doesn’t really look that bad. But, trust me, it is.

Sure, Cape Town is known as “Slaapstad” or “Aapstad” or whatever silly names you can think of. But. Surely there must be women who still take some pride in their appearance? Women for whom spending R20 to fix heels might not sound blasphemous?