The Internal Comms team went out for a very naice lunch today. Saigon has a beautiful environment, with loads of new foods to try out. We had the starter combination, which had everything rolled up in lettuce jackets and dipped in peanut sauce. Trust me, that peanut sauce was divine brown!

Then we had a tiny sliced duck in plum sauce, little squares of beef and one side of a line fish. Everything was yum yum, and it was very helpful to have Ilse showing me the ins and outs of how to eat the food and how to use chopsticks. Incredibly, I felt comfortable around them, unlike when I am with Nischy and co and I am trying to impress them. Ohhh.. the little coconut pieces at the end was ab-so-loo-tly-dee-lis-cios.

Now all I want to do it drink. Drink loads and loads of vodka and have a couple of shooters. I can live with that. And if I have been really good the last couple of months and karma decides to reward me, I will get some tender loving care. That - I would love.

Whatever you think about alcohol, for someone who enjoys alcohol and its effects, it is an elixir. This post is not about depending on alcohol, its not about abusing alcohol and its not about praising alcohol. Its just a story about alcohol.

I have seen Anuscha chill and talk crap with his friends and around us. I have seen him tease Nischy and make fun of her. I have seen him relax with Achacha and I have seen him on a bit of an adrenalin high when he drives like a BMW bastard driver.

But I have never seen him the way he was last night. He has some glug glugs, he was with his maites and he was sprouting the biggest load of crap, with gestures to match. He couldn’t stay still – always moving around, laughing, joking and, I guess, being himself totally.

My point is, if Nischy were around he wouldn’t have had those few glug glugs and so would not have reached the state or relaxation (or inebriation) that he did and revealed a different side of himself. A side that reminded me of me.

Screw u lot who say alcohol is evil. At the end of the day I know how much fun it is to be drunk and not be inhibited. I know how much more chilled out you are. I also know how much more emotional you get and how much more trouble you can get into. But I also know how much more enjoyable life is when you are drunk.

Bottoms up!

Down down down!

Kitty Call

My current (read yesterday, today and tomorrow) Internet hunting ground is a cute website with some slightly strained humour, but it is nevertheless entertaining. A time-passer. The sections I am going through is about pets, and the numerous cat anecdotes reminded me of something I was supposed to blog last week.

After the blow up with Appy and Amma regarding my galavanting around town after dark and the whole issue of being alone at home, I decided that I was going to visit the SPCA the following wkend and get a kitty cat. A male kitten, not black, with long fur and a tendency to purr loudly and often. He will also love me and me only, and will scratch Pramod whenever he pisses me off.

Anyways, whilst making these grand plans a niggling thought kept popping up in the back of my mind. I chose to push it away cos at that time my need for comfort was great than my common sense (and pride).

The next week I gave Julez a wassap call and mentioned that I might be smuggling a kitty cat into my life pretty soon (the coming wkend in fact!). I gave her the whole 9 yards about the cat and how happy we would be and how we could save on electricity cos I would hug the cat instead of craving to get closer to the electric blanket. Great ideas, together forever and all that.

Then she took that niggling thought right out of my head. Aargh, I didnt want to think deeply about it, but now I had to. I didnt want to become like one of those old spinsters with 5 million and 1 cats for company. I didnt want to be like one of those people who avoid human companionship cos its hard work building a lasting relationship. I didnt want to smell of cats.

Anyways, I am a doggy person.

So, no cats for now, but many doggies later in my life.

The down side of feelings..

I am sitting at my desk bopping to a song in my head. Its not one of those irritating songs.. I can work and even have a phone conversation with the music as background in my head. Anyways, the song is 'Stand by me', by methinks The Fugees.

"I wont cry.. I wont cry.. no iiiiiiiiii... wont shed a tear... just as along.. as you stand.. stand by meee".. and "I wont be afraid.. just as long... as you stand... stand by meeee".

You know, sometimes thats all you need to make life liveable. Someone to stand by you. And that person lets you know that he/she will stand by you. And that person should know that you know he/she will stand by you.

So Pramod, if you ever read this, I need you to let me know (I know you wont tell me) that I can trust you, that I am safe with you. Not cos you are under blood obligations to protect me, but cos you want to.

I know I am a shithead also, but I am trying to work on it.

Anyways, I read H's emails again. *Sigh* It was a bietjie shit and a bietjie difficult, but I was at my happiest. Happiest long term over a couple of months, not happiest one night cos of a lot of drinks and some TLC.

Part of me is still holding out, but even if it doesnt happen.. "I wont cryy.. no iiiiiiiiiii.. wont shed a tear.. just as long.. as you stand.. stand by meeeeee".

That 'you' can be anyone. Anyone I trust, anyone I feel comfortable with, anyone who doesnt judge me, anyone I can be good maites with, anyone who is a good buddy, anyone I can be myself with. And thats ONE person that I am talking about.

What has changed since my last blog?

A lot and nothing actually. War on both sides, internal issues and a pesky dodgy Indian. Stoopid asshole.

Anyways, this is not to complain; instead I wanted to record some of the banal thoughts that are conceived in my head.

Speaking of dodgy Indians.. if I didnt know me I would probably be sitting on the other side of the mirror calling myself a dodgy Indian. A true example of ignorance being bliss.

Comparing Firefox to Internet Explorer is like comparing Indesign to MS Word. All you designers out there will know what I am talking about.

My darling Rogue. I love you, but when we drive I can feel every bump and dip on the road.. even the tiny ones that an ant would cover in one step.