wine, a public holiday, visitors and that bloody bird!

The problem with having a public holiday in the middle of the week is that it kind of means you have two Mondays. I did say kind of means. It’s all the same really. As it stands, I do not have a very good relationship with Mondays. I find them mean, evil spirited creatures who have little or no regard for anything or anyone and Mondays just keeps messing with my hair.

What I do like about a public holiday in the middle of the week though is that I don’t have to go to work and I can lie around by the pool all day drinking beer and smoking a joint with my mates (it was very windy in Durban yesterday – that’s why I was by the pool and not on the beach).

Only, I’m a bit tired now because I’ve been busy since Tuesday evening when it all started with a bottle (read two) of wine.

Downfall. Moving on.

My room mate has friends over. They hail from Pretoria. Yes, I do feel sorry for them. Nice kids though. Strange thing, I can hardly follow any conversation with them. And it’s not only me! Boyfriend agrees to the same. I don’t quite get it though. I’m only 4 years older than them (room mate and her friends) making boyfriend only 6 years older than them, yet I find I really don’t quite “get” them.

Conversations ranged from talks of partying all night and taking pills to drinking all day and going to the mall. And they seem to speak a completely different language from anyone I’ve ever met.

The mall?

What is so special about a mall?

Firstly, lets just get this out of the way, I’ve had my hooligan days. Oh believe me I did. I hooliganned well I might add. I danced on all the dance floors at Truth and tramped it up at Bitch when I lived in Jozi. I put strange little pills and other things in my mouth and thought I was too cool. I shook all I have at Bronx, and was subsequently shaken right back by some cute European sounding boy and danced with fairies on the mountains while holidaying (for three months, oh I miss it) in Cape Town. And now? Its over. It’s done. I stay home and I bake cake and make yummy dinners and I smile because I’m happy and not because the medication makes me do it and I go home to the man I love and we talk about things like buying a house and whether or not we should get a dog.

So it’s strange to see these younger beings who have made home on an inflatable mattress on the floor of my living room for the next few days while they are here on holiday talking about all night parties and giving us strange looks when we say we are not joining them at the 330 party at Traxx on Friday night.

Don’t let me forget that other part. The part about the mall. Ok, so Durban has a one / two pretty cool malls, but when you are in Durban, why the heckles do you want to spend your time in a mall? This is Durban dammit, South Africa’s playground. Why not hit the beach? go run and slip and slide in uShaka Marine World? Go for a picnic at the Botanical Gardens, explore the Japanese Gardens – get lots in the Valley of a Thousand Hills?

That’s all I’m saying. Coz that’s how I roll.

As for that parrot. That parrot! I don’t know how much more I can actually take. Thankfully it is leaving. Room mate is giving the bloody thing back to her ex-boyfriend / boyfriend / ex-boyfriend currently known as new boyfriend / we actually don’t even know anymore. So on the 24th December 2009 – room mate, her parrot and her two friends from Pretoria are driving back up together and the parrot is not coming back.

Hallelujia!

Rude ass bird! Tuesday night she was hanging upside down in the cage screaming and squarking like a deranged possessed child so I shouted “shut up you spawn of satan” it looked at me and said “bitch please!”