She's the one

Excuse me, everyone, but this is a historical moment. Would you mind sitting down for a moment and shutting up, so I can make an announcement. Thank you.

I have just bought my first guitar.

(Poignant pause.)

That's ok, you can clap. I know, I'm very excited too. You might think I'm making fun of it all here, but I'm actually deadly serious. I'm so emotional about this, it's not funny. I have been telling everyone about it, absolutely everyone. Even the lady on the bus stop and some random customers at work. My friends say I'm acting like a little kid at Christmas (which secretly, they think is kind of cool). I sat out on the terrace last night with my flatmates and held my guitar the whole time. I couldn't let go of it. And I found it hard to leave the house this morning, knowing that I would have to leave my guitar behind. I kissed her good bye when I eventually did. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you can call me pathetic, I don't care.

I've wanted to play the guitar for a couple of years and have been talking about it a lot. I played instruments and studied music from when I was about 7 until about 19. I used to be pretty good, but then life kind of swallowed me up and I didn't find time anymore. I never really considered the idea of the guitar though until a couple of years ago, when all of a sudden the idea jumped on me and never let me go again. I was at a friend's cafe and shop the other day and spoke about the guitar again. My friend is a musician and has played the guitar for about 20 years or so. Suddenly he said: "Do you want to buy my old guitar?", disappeared inside his shop and came back with this beautiful, beautiful black guitar. I was in shock. I looked at it with my mouth open and just knew she was the one. It was love at first sight.

I don't have any aspirations of playing in a band or getting all sophisticated and technical- all I want to do is sit on the terrace and play the guitar. By myself. That's all I want to do. I'm so excited. So far, I can do G major, C major, E minor and D major. Apparently there's a song in that, but I haven't quite found it yet. The tips of my fingers are sore as hell, but it's all worth it. Now I just have to find a name for my guitar and I'll be set.

Hey! Hey! Hey! It's a Seinfeld moment

That's me enyoing my new freedom. I know. I have been very selfish and have used my free time to go out and party hard instead of updating my blog. I have been letting you guys down. By all rights, I should be blogging all the time now, seeing that I have a lot more time. But I think I must be missing the temptation of procrastination. Doing things like blogging is so much fun when you should in fact be doing something else. It's just not quite the same doing it completely guilt-free. Yeah... I'm full of good intentions with not much behind it. But I promise I will try to be a bit more responsible at some stage in the near future (cough). Not the too near future though. Ahem.

Anyway. I've got a funny little story to tell. Paula and me went out for a couple of Martinis and Margaritas the other day. Martinis for me, Margaritas for Paula. She loves the bloody things, after she has just discovered they exist... and now she can't stop drinking them. She's all like "Oh my god, where have I been all this time? How come me and Margaritas both existed all this time and we never met?" It's the cutest thing. But that's not really the story here.

We went out for dinner with Phil at our local Chinese a bit later. It's called "The mad Chinaman" and I can tell you what, nomen est omen. The owner is, well... mad. No, seriously. He comes out during dinner with a microphone and sings weird songs. The crowd goes nuts over it. They all start getting up and dance and sing and stuff. You don't even feel like you're at a restaurant, you feel like you're in some country town pub.

This middle aged guy with a huge beer gut was really drunk and started to shimmy through the restaurant, shaking his stuff. The whole scene was getting rather bizzare. Next thing we know, he takes his shirt off, in the middle of the restaurant. His white belly is absolutely massive and hangs over his belt. Everyone is like, aheeemm, oooook. Put that belly back into the shirt. Now. But instead he opts to sit down at our table, all naked and stuff, and starts a conversation by using only one word. Hey! Hey! Hey! He looks around, seeking our approval. Hey! Now he tries to shake our hands and do some strange "south-side-gimme-five" hand movements. We were at a bit of a loss. Although we must have been a bit drunk after a couple of bottles of wine, we just weren't quite sure whether this was all really happening. It was such a classic surreal moment, in perfect Seinfeld fashion.

The brand-new queen of doing fuck all

I cannot believe I finished uni for the semester. Yesterday at quarter to six. Had to be at work at six, so was rather flustered (and starving and late and with helmet hair and no make-up) and it didn't quite sink in yet. But this morning I slept in and then woke up with this great feeling of peace. I can do whatever the hell I want. I almost forgot what that feels like, seriously. Just to have a blank day laid out in front of you with not a bloody trace of guilt- it's exhilirating. I will still be working five to six shifts a week, but without uni work, that's an absolute piece of cake.

I made myself a strawberry banana smoothie and wasted the first one and a half hours of my day fantasizing about all the things I want to do that I haven't been able to for a while. I even made a list. It contains things like "sleep all day and watch movies" and "buy three different newspapers and sit in a cafe all afternoon". I also made a list of things I have to do, but that list sucks big time and I'm thinking about throwing it away.

Anwyway. Now I might go to the gym. Or get a haircut. Or meet a friend for lunch. Or watch talkshows on TV and scratch my bum. The world's my oyster.