Where do I start to describe the weekend?
Well, it didn’t come soon enough. Friday afternoons at work really are torture, especially when you are eager for the weekend to start. Minutes turn into hours and if we are all completely honest, how much work really gets done between 3 and 5pm on a Friday afternoon?
Eventually it was time to hit the road and for the weekend to begin. And what better way to begin by spending the evening in Roodepoort(well, maybe not so much for the city, but for the company there).
The challenge was to cook a meal for my boyfriend without blowing anything up or killing anyone, or, as is my forte, flooding the kitchen. Well I’m happy to say we both made it out alive, nothing flooded, no one died and nothing was blown up. I know, next time I’ll try be a little more careless…we know that makes for a much more entertaining blog. The rest of the evenings plans were pretty simple, a couple of UFC’s and a movie.
The plans were slightly diverted and we ended up watching the highlights of a few movies, such as the unforgettable fight scene between Neo and Mr Smith from the movie classic The Matrix. And then for a couple of laughs, Cheech and Chongs Up in Smoke, anyone looking for some Labrador?
All in all a very relaxed evening, especially when only one bottle of vodka was consumed by only two people(In hindsight it is perhaps never a very wise idea to try drink as much your boyfriend). It is only a miracle that I have not yet hugged a toilet in Roodepoort.
Restless Parent Syndrome is a bitch. We were both up before 6am with pounding heads…and a slight blank on how and when the bedroom curtains were shut?(after some deliberation it was decided that I had indeed shut the curtains when we decided to go to bed). A few headache tablets later and a couple of cups of coffee and I was almost functional again. Jaco made an awesome breakfast sandwich that I surely would have eaten with gusto on any other morning, but my stomach wanted to hear none of it , so it ended up being a few feeble bites.
And then there was serious business to attend to. I had to get my ass back to Boksburg in order to do some shopping.
Let me add here that for the first time, I did not get lost coming or going from the Wild West….but I may have picked up a traffic fine.
Back in Boksburg the Minx and I hit the stores with what energy we could muster ,as we were both suffering intense hangovers. Two malls and dozens of stores later(which, if I had listened to Minkster, could have been prevented) we eventually found the perfect outfits.
I word on clothing store dressing rooms: unless you are perfectly preportioned nothing will quite look fabulous on you when you try it on in a dressing room. More often than not harsh flourescent lighting is used and this is the worst type of lighting as it brings up every flaw you hve on your body. If you are unsure, buy the item of clothing and try it on at home and if it still looks crap, return it.
It was time to get a move on to Kempton Park(and yes, my shoes were off within the first five minutes of being there). And honestly, what is a weekend without the Goose getting lost. Yes, I got lost in Kempton Park, but it was minor. The worst part being we had to travel on a dirt road.
We really did enjoy ourselves kempton style, with no shoes, lying on blankets in the shade. And of course, all of us had hit it pretty hard thenght before so it took a couple of drinks for us all to regain our “personalities”. As the perfect host, Schalk delegated the braaing to his brother and the salads to the women(well, I can tell you, I have had just about enough domestication after this weekend). The food was awesome!
All too soon it was time to get ready and get our asses off to Nicci Beach. And we did so in style. There is nothing better than dancing the night away with great company, the overall crowd was also really cool. Schalk I will never forget your little moonwalk. Silent Bob(aka Marius) actually spoke and quite often. Minki, my dear, danced her her feet off. Jaco played cameraman well. And me, well I was in my happy place.
To memories made.