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Showing posts from August, 2005

Girlz N Games #10

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Here’s Issue #10 (I blew off working on a presentation for this;))

Good News & Bad

Insurance is a very strange thing. Essentially you pay your monthly insurance rates so that if needed, you can claim back. However, if you do actually need some insurance money, they slap you with a R1000 excess that puts you off claiming for anything in the R1000-R2000 range. And they remind you oh so sweetly that if you do claim, your monthly rates are going to go up 20%- around R400 a year. So apart from major disasters, both the insurance company and your own money-saving strategies encourage you to pay for repairs and replacements out of your own pocket. Anyway, we got some quotes today and suggestions in terms of repairing my damaged dashboard and buying a new CD frontloader. Key Pinetown said that replacing the console (in turn, the entire dashboard) would cost around R8000. Uh, sure. They did however helpfully suggest the names of a few body shops that specialise in bumper, grille and dashboard plastics repairs. It turns out a Pinetown based company can mould the dented console

A Weekend of Unfortunate Events

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This weekend, the usual pleasant lazy routine of socialising and just chilling was painfully shattered by a number of incidents. To start off with, I went into the weekend feeling horribly down, irritable and anxious to the point of being tearful. Why, I don’t really know. What I do know though is that comments like ‘Put a smile on your dial’ and ‘Sound more cheerful’ do not work at all in terms of cheering you up. In fact, the make you feel worse because you realise just how far you are from happiness. I cheered up as the evening progressed, but I really hate how emotional I’ve become. I was woken on Saturday with a phonecall that there had been a break-in at home. More specifically, during that windy, noisy Friday night (or perhaps earlier during the evening when my sister was being dropped off, and the gates and garage door were open), some opportunistic bastards had broken into our garage and stolen my CD frontloader and CDs from my car. They had also smashed the driver’s window of

How to Torture Your Boyfriend in 7 Easy Steps

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1. Drive 50 000km to Gateway. 2. Walk past or enter every single clothing and shoe shop in Gateway. 3. Try on one item of clothing, which fits badly. 4. Give up intended quest for shorts, casual pants, or a pair of sneakers. 5. Drive to the Pavillion. 6. Repeat steps 2 through 4. 7. Head home without anything. Still the anniversary shopping expedition wasn’t an entire loss. We had a very pleasant lunch at the Hops & Barley at Gateway. In our exhaustion / frustration before heading home from the Pavilion, we also ended up splurging on imported magazines at CNA: Paul got his Computer Gaming World, and I bought the June issue of Wizard, the comics / superhero magazine. Man, oh man, I love superheroes. The bodies, the figure-hugging spandex, the square jaws… Plus, we discovered that Cape Union Mart has some of the coolest ‘gadgets’ in their stores. Not only are there climbing walls, but there are also lumpy treadmills and rocky displays to work in your new hiking boots, and even a Cool

The Amityville Horror

One of my favourite sub-categories of the horror genre is the haunted house film. Poltergeist, with its character development, sense of humour, and emphasis on depicting a very real, very ordinary family caught up supernatural events, has only entrenched itself more firmly on my favourite horror film list every time I see it. I’ve dabbled an interest in the paranormal. Although I don’t believe in aliens and dismiss many unexplained phenomena, I have a healthy respect for the occult. Unexplained presences, shadows moving just out of your range of vision, objects moved without explanation – although unnerving, I’m willing to believe in their being related to a lingering human spirit or something purely ethereal (demonic or angelic). So when it comes to The Amityville Horror, the second film attempt at the supposedly true story of the Lutz family’s experiences in a possessed Long Island house, I have high expectations. My opinion of the film is also coloured by the fact that I was genuin

Piercings & Miscellaneous

I finally have ammunition to counter Paul’s persistent nagging that I should have my ears pierced. Essentially, I’ll have my ears pierced if he will have some part of himself pierced. As that will never happen, I’m quite safe. Of course, I wouldn’t want Paul to have a piercing. I cannot stand them on men, whether they are in the ear, lip, nose, nipple, navel, tongue or genitals. I could probably just barely tolerate an eyebrow ring. But really, I’d rather he have a tattoo than a piercing. As for me, it’s not the needle or the piercing gun that is an obstacle to me having my ears pierced. I have no desire to have any part of me run through. And then of course there’s the situation of promptly being handed earrings for every special birthday or occasion for the rest of my life. Why fill up precious gift slots with the utterly un-exciting prospect of little metallic studs? How utterly un-exciting. In a totally unrelated vein… In stopping in at G’s place on Saturday night to drop him off,

The Weekend

Although I’m guiltily regretting it now, this weekend I did sweet fanny adams when it comes to university work. Mostly it was a weekend of sport… and eating. In terms of over-eating, much like the work I’m currently regretting it. My stomach is a bit bloated and I’m feeling semi-queasy this morning. Anyway, in terms of my sporty weekend, Friday night was spent in a box at the Absa Stadium watching the Sharks thrash the Leopards 50-something to 10. Of course, I have yet to work out where the Leopards are from – the Cheetahs I at least know are from the Free State. Anyway, apart from the last 10 or so minutes of the second or so half, when the Sharks’ defence opened up wide gaps, it was an entirely one-sided game. Of course, I was more concerned with my chicken-prawn curry and vegetarian lasagna. Saturday was spent at the Africa-Asian 11 cricket match at the Sahara Stadium (after canceling a 2.4GB download of World of Warcraft that was 2GB in; much to Mark’s uber disappointment). Anyway,

Good News & The Weekend

I spent the last two days doing readings for the Media course I'm doing this semester entitled Corporate Communication Strategy. Anyway, the readings have been very theory heavy, with a cultural meets economics slant on the issue of Value and Commodity. I was quite panicky and overwhelmed by the time I went to yesterday's lecture. However, there was good news with the announcement that the course doesn't have an exam. It's assessment is 2 essays and a research project. Thank God. I wasn;t happy with the prospect of trying to write an essay in exam conditions on the subject matter I've been reading. The other good news was that pretty much no one else has done the readings. They remain set for next week, and with the exception of one, I've done them already. Workload reduced! As for this coming weekend, planned activities include the following (along with hopefully squeezing in some varsity related reading): - Going to the rugby match tonight in Durban. Myself, P

Success

I’m pretty much sorted for Paul and my 2-year anniversary next week. I don’t feel bad posting this as he doesn’t read forums. If, however, he does read this, well, he’ll just spoil the surprise for himself. Anyway, with assorted ideas in my head I went to the Pavilion today, accompanied by my mother. It was actually a good thing my mother was there because she found exactly what I was looking for. Those of you who know Paul are probably familiar with his grey (formerly black) hooded Billabong tracksuit top. He’s dropped some hints in the past about needing to get a new one, and that’s exactly what my mother and I found. It’s not a surf brand. The few surf brand tops that were available were plastered with blatant slogans and logos, and in my mind I like to imagine weaning Paul away from that as much as possible (At least I’m a girlfriend who only changes my boyfriend in my head ;P). The top is also not a staple in your average brand whore’s wardrobe ie. Adidas, Nike, Levis, Polo etc et

Christmas in August

Right, I know this is months in advance, but a little fantasy retail therapy is just as healthy (and better for the bank balance) than the real thing. Anyway, I have my eye on the following in the near future, or for Christmas and my birthday: (Please bear in mind that most of these are just fantasies) - An iPod Mini: The thought of blocking out the irritating noises of the world with a compact little MP3 player is most appealing. - A Sketch Tablet: I'd have to give one a test run before I commit to a purchase, but I'd really like to make a cheaper (non Waccon) tablet my next PC accessory. - Sunglasses: I just snapped my last pair, so I need a replacement. Of course I'm not talking about anything obscenely expensive like Oakleys. I'm quite happy with a R20 beachfront pair as long as they sit staright on my face. For some reason, most sunglasses don't. - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire paperback: I read it years ago, but need it to to complete my HP collectio

Return to Gummi Glen

Well, I don’t think I need to do a heavy weekend recap, seeing that most of the people likely to read this were at the 2 braai / chat fests (although some faded pathetically early). Anyway, Sunday evening was more interesting in that Paul and I shunned the bollocksy MNET Sunday movie in favour of He-Man and the Gummi Bears. Considering most of our tapes dating back to the 1980s are sprouting mushrooms, the 3 video cassettes I’ve borrowed from Ashley (and will be digitizing) are in surprisingly perfect condition. Anyway, I can say that the years have not been kind to He-Man. Or, at least, my mind has been sufficiently warped to prevent me from taking it at all seriously. Prince Adam wears a pink and purple tights and has the worst pudding bowl haircut you can imagine. Then, when he pulls out his sword, he is transformed into the tanned, thong and furry-booty wearing He-Man. It’s the ultimate gay fantasy. I kept expecting Skeletor to ask He-Man for a blow job. In contrast, Gummi Bears co

DVD Evening for the Durbs crowd

To the Durban gang who will be reading this: If you're not doing anything, anyone keen for a DVD / braai evening on Friday 12 August at my place? 6:30-7pm. Please bring your own drinks, braai meat and whatever DVDs or cool old video classics you can scrounge together and you think we’d like to watch.

Anniversary Assistance

Paul doesn’t browse forums and he certainly doesn’t look at blogs. So, I feel pretty safe posting this here. Anyway, the 24th August is our 2 year anniversary… and I really need some anniversary present ideas. Because, really, the fussy spoilt brat is so impossible to buy for (no jewellery, no clothes). So far, my only idea is to get him a new Tool cap because his old one is so faded and dirty it is practically self-aware. However, when I say a Tool cap, I’m talking about ‘creating’ a Tool cap – buying a blank cap and having the logo embroidered on. Ideas, anyone?

That Noughties Show

Although it’s lost its unique 70’s focus, I’ve been watching That 70’s Show for several years now, and I’ve always liked the way that the show allows its characters to develop, changing relationships, jobs etc. Monday was interesting because Red and Kitty Foreman confronted their son Eric, who is on a self-initiated ‘gap year’ about his sudden lack of drive and purpose. Eric’s argument was that he is using the year to find out who he is and what he wants to do as opposed to what others expect of him. I wouldn’t say I feel the exact same way- I’m really grateful that my parents were never the type to force me into a career path that I hated. That still unfortunately happens to so many people. But the question ‘What are you going to do next year?’ fills me with dread. If we’re talking about a search for direction, at the moment I feel like a compass in a tub of magnets. I know what I can do, and I could potentially go in a number of directions, but there’s no overwhelming passion pushing

The Weekend

Well, the weekend was good, although I have a pretty bad sleep deficit at the moment. Essentially, Friday evening kicked off with a LAN at Paul’s house, with me, Paul, Gareth and Robin playing. However, as this was your typical LAN experience, we probably ended up playing for about one hour in total. Most of our time was spent watching amusing clips, introducing each other to games we haven’t seen before, raiding hard drives for goodies, and going through the very tedious process of installing and patching games to the right version so we can actually play them. In the end we played Joint Operations: Escalation, attempting a couple of extremely difficult co-op stages, where we spent more time dying and spawning than actually meeting our objectives. *Mutters* Stupid one hit, one kill approach. Anyway, the next morning we played a free-for-all round of Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War. I’d practiced with the Chaos Marines the previous evening, and although my base was annihilated first (as

Back to Media

Today (Thursday, 4 August) wasn’t the best of days. I couldn’t bear the prospect of reading another 20+ novels this semester so I decided to take a Media module entitled Strategic Corporate Communication. I figured it would look better on my CV and be more useful than Modern and Post-modern Literature. So I pitched up for the lecture today to discover a pretty boring, largely theory-based course. Granted my severe anxiety didn’t help things (don’t worry, I’ll devote a whole post to my nervous tension soon), but the whole situation was off-putting. For one thing, there was something like 40 students in the lecture venue. And the vast majority are horribly obnoxious, loud, layabout Media students 4 years my junior. I can’t believe how different they are to the Media students of my undergraduate years. Or, that I was once one of those know-it-alls. I don’t deal well with change, and I was just beginning to grow comfortable, after the first semester, with the English department, where ther

Don’t Pick Up This Hitch Hiker

I went with a group of friends to see The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy last night. I wasn’t looking forward to it. The trailer looked appalling and, really, there is nothing worse than badly done sci-fi. The tickets were only R10 though, so we gave it a chance. I would rather have paid to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory again. I have never read Douglas Adams’s book/s so for comparative purposes I still need to watch the old BBC series, or listen to the book-on-tape that Firebird Paul over the UK so generously sent to me. But, to my understanding, much like Thunderbirds, the movie Guide to The Galaxy is once again proof that the English should stay away from sci fi. Or, rather, Americans should not get involved in the film versions of English sci fi. This one is much a misinterpreted turkey as the Dungeons and Dragons film was. Apart from an utterly bullshit story (largely involving John Malkovich taking the idiot galactic president’s 2nd head hostage for a persuasion gun(?!!

A note of explanation and a joke

In case you’re wondering why there are 3 blog entries in very quick succession, I’m afraid it’s really as a result of my good old home dial up Internet connection, as well as the fact my parents will be monitoring (and paying for) the phone bill. I just can’t go online at home every evening. So, as a result, while I type up my blog entries whenever I have something on my mind, I only upload them when I can justify going online at home, or when I’m at one of the university LANs. Anyway, I haven’t exactly been the best at church attendance these past 2 years (I blame it on dating a lapsed Anglican ;P). But I received a letter from the church the other day, including the following joke (which was told by the priest on the altar). I enjoyed it: ‘A young Nun joined an Order with a Vow of Silence. Each member was only allowed to say two words every ten years. After the first ten years, she went into Mother Superior’s office and said, “Bed hard!” The Mother Superior took note and dismissed th

Girlz N Games #9

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As promised, here's Issue #9 of Girlz N Games, which is the first strip to include the 'real life' cast of characters... well, some of them anyway (Guess who?!). The others I'm sure will show up in time. The question remains though whether the 'characters' will keep the same names as their real life counterparts or have their own. Oh, and I got the picture uploading working - Opera may be a faster web browser but it doesn't necessarily share all the website functionality that Internet Explorer does.