Past Musings

Let’s go halvies



So I’m a half-Afrikaans, half-English, half-Jewish, half-German, that grew up climbing trees and had ice cream cakes with Barbies on top of every birthday cake. I was raised by KTV, my parents and our domestic worker, Mondi. I went to an Afrikaans school, with traditions I now despise but I’m glad I went cause it taught me ‘how not to be’. I wanted to be Ally Mcbeal but didn’t want to study law or hallucinate babies dancing in my workplace corridors so I studied drama so I can play the role of Ally. I now do stand-up but sometimes sit down in English about being Afrikaans and from Bloemfontein but living in Cape Town. That’s me in a nutshell…not that I actually think I live in a nutshell because otherwise I would be incredibly scared of squirrels and Im not. I love squirrels, not in a weird ‘I-talk-to-them-at-the-company-gardens’ kind of way, but just a nice ‘I-say-ah’ when I see a picture of them with a hat on.

So I’m a halfie, a run of the mill ‘bit of this and that’ but aren’t you glad we are surrounded by people who are way more than a ‘this and thatter’ – even if they are the Steve Hofmeyrs or the Julius Malemas – it makes life so so interesting. Basically we’re living in an awesome country. We’re all so freaking diverse it chokes me up. I came across this qoute and I thought it was pretty much spot on:

In a way, it’s like the World Cup, where the dream of welcoming ‘the world’ allowed us to feel, for a few weeks, that the country where we would like to live really existed. Not Singapore, not Switzerland, not Sweden, but a warm hearted, vibey, ordinary country in the South. But the World Cup as an ideological project pivoted, really, on our deeply charged, troubled, relation with the North; our desire to be recognized and seen by something we call the World. It was, in other words narcissistic in the strict sense of the word; a desire to appear in a certain way in the eyes of an authoritative Other. The moment that Other disappeared, the moment we were no longer on the TV screens, the moment we could no longer see ourselves reflected in the distorting mirror of the World’s gaze, the warm glow disappeared. – Andries du Toit at “A Subtle Knife” Blog

I say: ‘bring the glow back, but not for the silly North for us, Dali Tambo’s People of the South’. Yes I have a world cup hangover, mostly because I drank way too much during that time and I probably still haven’t recovered but by showing off over that time, it made us all realise just how much ‘better’ we are – not in a weird ‘America-yeah’ kinda way, but in a humble ‘did-you-see-me-help-that-old-lady-cross-the-street’ kinda way. So here, enjoy this ad from Kulula.

Remember When We Used Paper?



Above is an image of a ‘pen and paper’- these two worked hand in hand. Circa 1800’s.

Today I noticed that there were more trees growing opposite my flat. Now there could be two reasons for this: 1 There is a good Samaratin out there working his way through Cape Town planting seeds or 2 The Internet has taken over and less trees are being cut down to make paper. I’ll choose 2, only because if I choose 1, then I have to do some investigative journalism to find a disguised disciple / seedplanter in order to continue writing this post. So 2 it is.

Although I pretty much suck on Twitter; I have 207 followers, most of whom I am pretty sure are family members and I really find Twitter rather daunting. Facebook on the otherhand is my old faithful blanky. A lounge of status updates and tagged photos all neatly arranged by Zuckerberg. This does not mean I don’t frequent Twitter, in fact it is the third tab that opens on my browser in the morning and the first place I look for breaking news. It tells me what is trending and which politician to make fun of. Once I gather this information, like a cavewoman with rights, I head over to Facebook and inform my friends. I don’t copy and paste people’s Tweets though…but I do Retweet…it’s a fine line.

Let me get back to my point of there being more trees growing opposite my flat and therefore less paper. I remember a time where hanging out in the magazine aisle of CNA was a worthy past time. Surely now it’s social suicide being seen in a newstand? “Doesn’t she have the internet?” “She probably was born in a cave, although she looks great” “Look she’s hot but talk about living in the dark ages” These are the sort of things I can imagine people whispering behind my back if they were to spot me there. Luckily I don’t need the newstand – I have the internet. Gone are the days when I have to phone my intellectually advanced dad to ask: “Who’s this Lionel Messi guy and what’s democracy?” Now I can simply Google images – what a pleasure. It’s all a click and drag away and before you control alt delete this post – check out this video. It’s informative and it made me laugh a lot, plus it’s cheaper watching it here than on paper. Remember every time you click you save a tree.

Phoneless and Grumpy



I believe this year has been marked by a few significant happenings:
1. Justin Bieber’s haircut
2. The Royal Wedding
3. Osama bombed by Obama
4. My phone got stolen again.

Now apart from number 3 and 2 the rest are all incredibly newsworthy and lifechanging. Let me talk about number4 , which happened because I was being incredibly responsible and socially appropriate. You see, I was on my way to a dress up party – the theme NerdHerd. My outfit – a nerdy cow. Did I win – no, but that’s a whole different story. I arrange to stay over that night so that I can have more than two drinks and not kill someone on the road, which is my tick in the box of being responsible. My second tick goes to the socially appropriate box, as for the first time in eons I decide not to check my phone the whole evening and rather engage with real people in real life, yes I can hear you gasp.

So the next morning, as I stammer out of the guestroom, still covered in cotton wool from my nerdy cow outfit I can’t find my phone. Just fyi (I like saying things like fyi and diy and cnn) I do not own a blackberry, in fact the closest I’ve ever come to a blackberry was watching Monsters Ball starring Halle Berry, but that’s a different story. So I start phoning my Nokia *insert ancient model here written in hieroglyphics* but it’s off. So I know it’s been stolen. My first thought: Their is a thief amongst my friends who were at the party. I go through their faces in my head, all of whom I immediately suspect of being an undercover pickpocketer, minus my one nudist friend who’s never worn pockets and wouldn’t know how to approach them. As I slink to my car, having admitted defeat I notice the doors are wide open and someone has jimmied the locks (who is Jimmy and why didn’t someone give him a key?). I have a Citi Golf, I tell myself I own a Golf because it’s not flashy and I don’t need a fancy car – I often lie to myself.

Suddenly I put two and two together and immediately congratulate myself as I didn’t have maths at school and was quite impressed with my mathematical genius. Then I realised that my car was broken into and my phone was inside the vehicle (I use the word ‘vehicle’ here, as I’ve said ‘car already). I must have dropped the phone in the automobile (synonym check) as I was heading inside the party and because I was being responsible and socially appropriate I was targeted by a gang of evil henchman (probably more like a thin, slinky fellow who wants to score a loaf of bread, but I generalise sometimes).

So the moral of this story is: Drive drunk and stay on your phone at all times… not really, obviously not…

Below I am pictured moments after the disaster happened and you wonder why I didn’t win best dressed!!

Phoneless and Grumpy

Thank you Nicky Greenwall



I would like to send out a special thanks to tv presenter Nicky Greenwall, not for looking much taller on tv than she is in real life but rather for showing me this video of Danish director Lars Von Trier sympathising with Hitler at the Cannes Festival. This is the worst case of foot-in-mouth-disease that I have ever seen. But Kirsten Dunst’s reaction is so funny, I just can’t stop watching it. Lars was doing a press thingy for his movie Melancholia which Kirsten won best actress for at the festival.

I’m not wack like that.


Parts appeared in City Views

Henry Kissinger once said:  The nice thing about being a celebrity is that if you bore people, they think it’s their fault. 

Kissinger must have thought he was mind-numbingly dreary while watching the recent Royal Wedding. I, on the other hand, was in absolute awe at how much press and media surrounded the recent nuptials of Prince William and commoner Kate Middleton. Commoner is a rather harsh word, especially as the Middleton’s are multi-millionaires. Although, so is Charlie Sheen and he’s unquestionably a commoner, so fair enough. The Royal wedding – which was only briefly overshadowed by Bin Laden’s death and Justin Bieber’s new haircut – made me realise one thing: thank God, I live in Cape Town, where the only thing that is Royale is a burger restaurant at the top of Long Street. 

The wedding hangover, has left most of us wanting more. Justin Timberlake might have brought sexy back but the Royals have now brought the monarchy back! Before the last carriage had even turned the corner, emails started circulating comparing Princess Beatrice and Eugenie with the ugly sisters from Cinderella.


This cruel, albeit completely accurate and hysterically funny comparison has reminded me just how amusing the seemingly archaic blue blooded family can be. Unfortunately we’ll have to wait for the fiery redhead, Prince Harry, to pop the question to Chelsea Davy before we can celebrate more unsightly Royals. Although, it might seem like a tenuous link, Chelsea Davy brings me to my point; you shouldn’t call someone ‘whack’. “How is that?” I hear you murmur. Well, Chelsea’s family now live in Johannesburg where a lot of people get whacked by criminals.

 The wedding’s over, Bin Laden is somewhere in the ocean and Justin Bieber’s hair is less offensive but do not fret! Here is my song of the day, make sure you listen to the end. (apologies for the appaling video that accompanies this – we really shouldn’t be encouraging this kids but it’s actually sung by Lonely Island, the guys who brought you – Im on a boat) Also apologies about the scary sound right at the end. It’s so difficult finding good videos nowadays. So just close your eyes and prepare for a slight fright.

Back in the day