This weekend, not-so-beloved boyfriend and I had a fight. Well, I had a fight and boyfriend carried on with his weekend. It boiled down to lack of communication on his part, which lead to a good few solid hours of ear-bending communication on my part. You’d think, after four years, he would have learnt that admin can be avoided. Sometimes.
I actually had a more detailed bitch session but I couldn’t get on to the site to upload it on the weekend and now I’m over it. Sort of. I do feel that boyfriend owes me a pair of shoes. Don’t ever say that love can’t be bought.
So – I went to a high school reunion-type braai thing this weekend. It was a casul ‘pop along if you want’ and up until 10 minutes before I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to pop along at all. I was a self-aclaimed cheer-leading team-spiriting geek at high school. Why revisit it? To prove that I’m no longer a dork (which I am… see recent seafood quiz, for instance). To see people who I’ve been avoiding for the last six or seven years. To see how many kids my former friends have popped out in the mean time (at least two toddlers, in one case). To see how many people are STILL in the same circle of friends, kissing/dating the same guys we were all giddy over in high school… Move on? Branch out? Just a thought.
It actually wasn’t too bad – I made a point of swapping numbers only with people who I would like to catch up with (which narrowed it down to one) and then I moved on to join current friends for cocktails, with relief.
A few mojitos later, all high school dorkiness was forgotten and I was ready for The Colon in Craighall. Anything less than the equivalent a few mojitos, turns the colon into a colonoscopy-experience – do not attempt this place sober. Don’t ask me… ask Champagne Heathen, who was running around like a naughty imp using the interesting technique of a swift kick to the arse to encourage people to dance. Good, quality entertainment.
Other entertainment at the Colon: cane and crème soda served in sawn-off 2litre plastic bottles; very bad karaoke; very explicit public display of affection from a couple who were either very much in love or very much on E. Speaking of e… the highlight of the evening’s entertainment: e-tv porn on the TVs.
The low-light of the evening was watching a friend getting piled into by a tattoo-boasting steroid-popping apoptistic dickhead. It was the most random act of violence I’ve ever seen. Kind of like watching someone grabbing Winnie the pooh from behind, dragging him by his neck, pinning him face-down on the ground and then throwing three cheap punches at his back.
Steriod popping dickhead was very quickly evicted, my friend sat up looking, as he said, like he was “in a dream” with everyone staring at each other with what-the-fuck-was-that expressions. So, so very random. For all his gentle nature, this friend is a hardy fellow and didn’t even show any bruising, although he confessed, as he flexed his shoulders and arms for my benefit, he was definitely “gonna feel it in the morning”.
Sunday was spent hungover and giving boyfriend more admin, because I’m female and he doesn’t think. That’s what it basically boils down to.