It’s like Daisy was bad, like she did something wrong and was punished. Maybe she was spreading rumours about the farmer (or his wife and that stable man), or maybe it was just her time, but that large ridged, flaky TONGUE that my mother used to boil up - because her mother used to boil it up, because The War used up all the food - seemed like a castration - which, of course it is. Mixed in with a ratatouille of sorts, and some mashed potato, the thought still makes my epiglottis bob around a bit, with sadness. As if our mom making us eat it wasn’t bad enough, the next morning my dad would throw open the fridge and create a sandwich - butter, tongue, lettuce & … sandwich spread. No thnks dad, I’m still full from last night.
NSFH - NOT SAFE FOR HOME
Damn! Does not work. The problem here is the amount of honesty that you have to constantly talk about. Or not talk about. Which is obviously not what you are going to be talking about. Let’s assume you are mostly intimate. You’re having a great time. How many times, every time you see the person, do you have to say (casually): I met someone on Wednesday, on Thursday I kissed a no-one, Friday I flirted with someone I really liked, but he never asked for my number, Saturday, nothing to report, and now it’s Sunday and it’s u and I. The problem is you can’t actually say nothing, all the time, and you can’t bring up the topic, all the time.
We’re also not New Yorkers (I can promise u this) and as much as we’d like to play play that Joburg is the big bad version of all the major cities in the world, the truth is we are so totally conservative. Especially when it comes to gender, and the perceived roles of men and women. For so long, anything outside of established norms (law) was actually illegal. We’re still indoctrinated. Then, take into account cross cultural stuff and you have a whole whole new ballpark of non-communications.
YOU CAN YOU GO YOUR OWN WAY, BUT WILL IT WORK OUT?
SHOPPING IN SA
Back when I used to be rrrrriiiiiiiich, I liked to pop over the seas to do some shopping. Damn u Recession!
BEING A BAD FOOD TREND MAKER PREDICTORESS
How hard could it be?, I thought. Li and her Grey. Faith, some popcorn and cocooning. Mbeki and his iAfrican Renaissance. Alas, Mexican is already alive and kicking in Cape Town, the last outpost of the Dark Continent.
MEXICAN - ALREADY FAMOUS IN CAPE TOWN.
No! I don’t want to be part of your BBM clan. I am sorry! I don’t want to chat to all day on a free-sms service, I don’t want an email ping every two minutes, I don’t want to be in touch, all the time. There I said it. I hate blackberries, and I hate that all my friends love them. And chat on them all day, without me.
CRACK. WITHOUT THE COKE CAN. & 8000 TIMES THE PRICE.