Secrets!

I have a secret! It's Killing Me! I must tell!

 

I was listening on the radio this morning and they were interviewing a specific personality about his new show. My ears perked up because MrT goes on about him a bit. So I jumped on the internet and nabbed two tickets for tomorrow night.

 

I really hope MrT will be super surprised and pleased.... and of course that we have a splendid good evening tomorrow of course.

 

S-O E-X-C-I-T-E-D. Fun Times! Splendidness!

 

(Now to tell MrT he can't read my blog for a day or two)

 

On another note, PostSecret is addictive and horrifying and funny and scary all at the same time.

another weekend passeth

It has been a rather eventful Sunday. I offered to make potato bake for Sunday luncheon and managed to chop a slice into my finger. I thought it was minor until I realised that the blood wasn't oozing but rather making tiny rivers down my arm.

I should be proud that it took over a year of living on my own to inflict a semi-serious injury to myself (barring burning my thumb on the oven elements.) and since I am a strong and independent woman... I called my mother and proceeded to have a freak the $%&! out moment over the phone. I tell no lies for the sake of drama when I tell you that I said "Mom, I have cut off my finger, well actually I have sliced the tip of my finger off, well actually sliced into the tip of my finger. But it is bleeding a lot. Like fountaining all over the place."

My mother advised me to tell MrT to hurry over and save me and that it was okay to be scared.

MrT arrived (eventually) and took one look and took me off to the hospital. The nurse at the hospital told me in no uncertain terms that my wound could not be called Not Serious even though I was correct that stitches were unneeded.

So after a medical practitioners opinion, I felt less silly for having a tears and snollies melt down after letting the knife slip while chopping potatoes.

My mother offered to take a look 3 hours later after luncheon when it was still bleeding through the bandages. So I proudly eased off the bindings to show my fresh scars of the war with my kitchen knife. She took a look at the flap of skin waving from the C-shaped incision into my pinky finger and went "eeeeh it's not so bad. What was all the fuss about?"

BOOM! It seems I am a drama queen after all.

Now almost 12 hours later it is only leaking that clear plasma stuff through the bandage... typing is amusing and driving is not. I have the rest of the evening to come up with a convincing back story before I go to work.

The funny thing is that the knife I cut myself with is part of the set that MrT gave me for my birthday. I have actually managed to inflict a flesh wound on my fingers with 3 of the 5 in the set... I fear the other two lie in wait in the box for their opportunities to demand their bloody sacrifice from my digits. I am not even normally that accident prone, except when it comes to really really sharp knives. This sounds like the premise for a horror movie.

"BLOODY KNIFE SET
FEED THE KNIVES BEFORE THEY FEED ON THE LIFE COURSING THROUGH YOUR FINGERS"

Last word for today

A Softer World is awesome. You should check them out.

... that is all.

Anyone else check out the eclipse?

The real moon eclipse... not the movie with shirtless lads and expressionless gals.

I borrowed MrT's tripod and we set up my little camera on his balcony last night and we actually got some pretty nice (I admit amateur) pictures of it.

The public holidays...

...they pass too fast. Oh wonderful Youth Day. We awaited your arrival for so many long hard work days and now that you were here and with us we feel you slipping away. Please won't you stay a little longer?

My youth day was actually not primarily spent on Youth - We went to spend the morning with my fathers Mother. (We called her Granny Far Away when were little because she lived in Parys with my late grandfather). MrT and I arrived early to show off our "We are engaged" glow before my sister and baby nephew arrived and stole all the attention. (I have long since made peace with this fact of life: Cute Babies are more interesting than just about anything else.)

After, MrT and I went grocery shopping and browsing the shops. Thrilling stuff really - but when you have that magic ring on your finger, everything you do together is a novelty.

Then, like old people, we hurried home for an afternoon nap.

We had to source some supplies for dinner (left over boerewors goes well with fresh rolls) and MrT decided to let me drive his car. My suspicions are that he wants a new bigger car sooner or later and wants me to take over his car and sell mine. He had a HUGE smile on after the ride - I think he wants a Fiance of the Year award for letting his woman sit in the drivers seat of his semi-new vehicle. I am sticking with precociousness and acting like it was nothing. Secret is, it's a pretty darned awesome car to drive. ssshhh...

At the end of this glorious day of non-work, I must be returning home for an early night and teh frosty early morning that follows to be running and not puking.

Huzzah to Youth!

Lessons in Exercise: Unfit people have Limits

...with a capital letter and underlined... twice.

I went off for my fourth RWFL session this morning. It was VERY difficult to get out of bed and I only had time to gulp down three mouthfuls of OJ before skipping across the road. Now in the previous session I had impressed the others with my ability to pick up on a sprint after 15 minutes of training. (I wasn't as impressed - astonished perhaps that my body still remembered how to almost instantly evacuate one location for another further away one - but I am well trained in dodging water pistols and water balloons - 3 Brothers will train you in that.)

So I figured I was well on the path to a better body. So I pushed myself a little today. Jogged a little faster, jogged for a little longer, pushed my sprint lap a little harder. I completed my new longer training time and was more than a shade out of breath... I felt good at being able to push my self to a limit.

 My body waited while we were chatting over the log books and right as I was making ready to leave and walk home my body tapped me on my hypothetical shoulder and said "Nay, No more of this Frank. I refuse to supply energy to your knees and legs any more. Gravity! Take over!"

I, in reply said "BLEEEUUGGH... BLEEUUGGHH...groan... BLEEEUUUUUEEEUUUUUGGHH... pant pant ... bleugh"

For the record: green grass and (digested) orange juice make a nice contrast...

Oh the shame! The horror! the pity on me! the mess on the grass! The aching diaphragm!

And the saddest part about chucking my guts this morning? I made a nice lunch to make me feel better and now I am not hungry :(

 

The new immediate challange is to arrive at the next traing session and not hide in bed with my shame. (I told The Englishman and he high-fived me for my puking efforts)

Wedding Planning Joys

Today, MrT and I, at long last, had time to go browse wedding venues. We booked appointments at a couple of venues and early (...for a Saturday...) we set off with high hopes.

The first venue was splendid. Quite a lot splendid in fact. We were almost too scared to get out the car and find out how many kidneys they needed to secure a booking of such a magnificent spot.

unfortunately for the rest of the venues we visited, this place set the bar very high for the day... (barring a few minor concerns) We drove across North Western Joburg and stopped of at a few ad hoc venues along the way. Some were so dismal we turned around in the parking lot and drove away 2 minutes after arriving. Some were surprisingly great and are backup plan venues for future reference.

We also collected a fat stack of brochures and now I have adverts for all the unimaginable things I never knew a wedding would fail without.

By 6pm today we have a provisional booking at a dreamy venue, a business card of a perfect photographer and pictures of the exact wedding dress I want that is being sold in a shop in western Johannesburg.

I am almost afraid to ask, When does the bubble pop and reality make things crash?