30 Years Old In South Africa. I Don't See Black or White, Just Grays...

the medication did the trick and i'm fully recovered from my bout with tonsillitis. don't be fooled, just because it has the word "lite" in it, doesn't mean it's like drinking a cool glass of crystal lite. no! it's pure hell. like drinking a glass of lite beer.

and now about the exciting birthday weekend that just ended. i had three tickets to see pirates of the caribbean part 3. they were for virgillio, me and joelene. joelene, if you remember, is the second date i had on matchmaker.com here. we had a great time together but after our second date i didn't hear a peep from her and moved along reluctantly. since then, we've fallen back into contact and decided to give it another shot to see what we could find together.

on the way to an architect's office friday morning i passed an italian restaurant, "pesto", and decided i should go there first chance. i called and made reservations for joelene and i for 1830 that night before the 2100 film. unfortunately i got stuck at work, drinking beer and arguing about the corialis effect, during bcp's end-of-the-month dinner and drinks so we didn't make it to the restaurant until 1915 (it wasn't ENTIRELY my fault though). the food was as close to home as i've found anywhere in s.a. so far. long story short, we were so late for the film that they oversold the small theater and we had to leave with only a cash refund for the film. virgillio wasn't very pleased with me. a coworker rhona had met up with him, and the four of us went to play some pool (don't call it "billiards" here). rhona and joelene hit it off in classic style and after the bars closed (at 2300 here) they decided that we should go get some bottles of wine and just hang out in the car (not uncommon in s.a.). virgillio begged to be taken home rather than listen to the women cackle away. eventually we ended up at "the golden horse" casino and danced to a guy playing the classics on guitar. he stopped at 0100, just 15 minutes after we got there.

so eventually rhona got in her own car and went home. joelene and i went back to her place to... talk.

the next day was virgillio's (and partly mine as well) birthday braai. we spent the whole of the morning and good portion of the afternoon getting all the necessary shit together for the braai and around 15:00 (a few hours before the sun goes down this time of year) the makeshift braai was up and cooking. a bunch of virgillio's university friends and soccer friends showed up. it was good times. one of the blokes there was a big black guy from new jersey. he's having his mind blown even more than i am. he says his american accent (very pronounced jersey accent) earns him better treatment than his skin color does. for example, if he hangs out with a south african crowd and doesn't open his mouth he gets a much lesser treatment than he does once they realize he's not an african but instead an american.

joelene spent the day working a booth at the "royal agricultural show" in town. it's the big event of the year. it's basically what we call the county fair. rides (many of the same ones you see at the boardwalk for a year or two), music, quilt exhibits, cows, horses... lots of teens dressed like sluts walking around in freezing weather. joelene had a vip pass from work and so she took me and we looked at all the amazing crafts the pietermaritzburgians had made. and naturally we ate junk food till it came out our ears. biltong (aka beef jerkey), mini donuts, boerewors (sausage) and some amarula in a flask i sneaked in.

after going on the ferris wheel, during which i talked incessantly about all the rust i could see on the bolts and how i didn't like the look of the foundation holding the whole thing up, we grabbed a hot chocolate or two and left.

sunday was my birthday and joelene wanted to take me to midmar dam for another braai / picnic. true to form, we got there a little late in the day but we were the only souls around so we had the place all to ourselves. boerewors, crisps, and some chakalaka. turns out 'chakalaka' is like mexican salsa just the african version (with extra corn and more onion and chili).

for the first time ever i remembered to take my camera so i took some pictures of midmar and, of course, the amazingly beautiful joelene. get this: she doesn't like having her picture taken. what is this world coming too? i told her that i either take a picture of her or i draw naked pictures of her.

i'm not sure i've mentioned this, but this country has a range of candy bars in the checkout line that serve as a means of communication for the conversationally inept (aka teens). candy bars where on the wrapper it says things like, "great date", "i love you", "i'm sorry", "do you like to download?", "am i always in trouble?", "can i.........................?", etc. i've never eaten one but joelene bought two for the braai. she gave me "happy birthday" and kept "you mean the world to me" for herself. these bars, called P.S. bars, are better than sex. "caramilk chocolate" with kit-kat-like wafer. i'm going to invent a patch of this candy bar and just ingest it constantly and slowly through my arm or lower back.

and speaking of better than sex... i'm old. 30 has hit me hard. my elbow feels sprained and today i found a collection of gray hairs in my sideburns... my most redeeming trait, my sense of humor, is working overtime to keep a positive spin on this rapid deterioration of my body... maybe i'll look wiser and even a little bad ass, eh? like race bannon, dr. quest's bodyguard... look out lizard people of the amazon!

i should remember the words of my old college flatmate tom mincy who told me, "don't worry about the gray hairs till they start showing up in your pubes."


if anyone's looking for something to send me, make it cialis and grecian formula please. i'll trade you a couple of those "i love you" P.S. candy bars in return. remember, candy bars don't lie.

and i guess i should end with what i assume has become the wildly popular headlines i see on the way to work, "KID KILLED BY GOAL". email me if you want to know what that means. but a little imagination is all it takes to figure out how this child met his fateful end.

so i hope you're all achieving your goals and not being crushed to death by them, both literally and metaphorically. cheers all.