54 sleeps

Last night it dawned on me that in less than two months I'll be back in North America permanently. I was completely fine with it. I'm ready to go.

57 sleeps

Look what T-Lo found! It's the cable thing-y that goes between the camera and the computer. Well done, T-Lo. I've attached a couple of random photos, two being blurry pics of the Cape Town city bowl at dawn and the one in the middle being a blurry pic of Seapoint at 6am on my way to work one morning. That's it for today.


... fighting mode ...

58 sleeps

Whoa.

[scratches head]

I can't believe it.

I jumped on the blog the other day quickly and noticed I had a new 'follower'. I didn't pay much attention, figuring it was another one of my CT friends with whom I have been chatting about the blog. Well, I just went to the 'followers' page and discovered that Big E - Big E - has joined as a follower.

This means the following:

1. Because Big E has no interest in things like 'blogs', 'facebook', 'IM chat' and other such 'nonsense', someone, presumably my father, told him about my blog.
2. Included in that factoid of knowledge was undoubtedly the fact that I had written masterpiece about Big E's Zimbabwean experience [ha!].
3. My father started laughing uncontrollably at the memory of his youngest son's little adventure into AFrica.
4. The logical progression would be a round-the-table belly laugh about The Time That T-Lo Got Pissed Off At Big E And Put Him On A Bus To Zimbabwe.
5. Knowing Big E, he would be sitting at the table, listening to the belly laughter and fuming (as we do).
6. Big E felt the need to share his side of the story.
7. Somehow, unbeknownst to me, he managed to:
7.1 get online
7.2 find the blog
7.3 sign himself up so he could comment; and
7.4 actually comment.

He is quite resourceful when he puts his mind to it. Naaahh... I put my money on the fact that he paid Shaw to sort it all out for him.

59 sleeps

... fighting mode......

Back soon.

62 sleeps

I have certain crippling fears. Rodents, crowds in open spaces and heights top the list. If I see a rodent I gag (dirty disease ridden little beasts!), if I am stuck in a crowd I freak out (too many people too close! stop touching me!), and when I am forced onto a bridge, I instinctively drop to the ground and leopard crawl back off. I think heights are the worst.

People say to me "Oh, it can't be that bad...I'm sure it's all in your mind." It is that bad and it is not just in my mind. Oh no it isn't! J took me climbing once up India Venster on Table Mountain, which is like the easiest route known to mankind. I got about a meter off the ground and froze. Then started shaking. That was it - climbing effort done. Never again. Earlier this year I decided to get over this fear by jumping off Gouritz Bridge with Sister SS. I got as far as the bridge. Leopard crawl in effect. Bridge jump effort failed. Never again.

So now, in a fit of logic and common sense, I have booked a sky-diving weekend with the fighter girls. People say its much easier to jump out of a plane then off a bridge because you are so high in the air that your perspective of the height is disjointed. We shall see. And Miss K has promised to kick my *ss out of the plane if I have a leopard crawl freak out. So either way, I will be jumping out of a plane soon. Yay!

63 sleeps

Slow night at the office, love? Oh, that made me laugh. Every time I look at it I giggle. Thanks to the DomTastic for forwarding it to me.

It's a beautiful, breathless, sunny stunning Sunday in Cape Town. I'm at work. Barely. I trained yesterday morning on Camps Bay beach with Miss K. What an awesome work out! My calves were ceasing about 20 minutes into training. We are going to do that more often. That, and run up Lion's Head with gas masks on.

TheGreek is finally back from Stellies. Yay! The return of the double deal pizza night! All is good in my world again :) I'm trying to think of something profound, intellectual, humorous to say but nothing is coming to mind. I think my brain is on vacation today. I'll be back tomorrow, with witty stories and fabulous photos.

Happy Sunday!

64 sleeps

This is a bit worrying.

65 sleeps

I'm really gearing up for my last fight in SA. I've been training in the morning (work issues at night). Little Mouse and Miss K from Canada (broken knee and all) have been holding pads for me - thanks, ladies!

In my experience, all fighters have their own peculiar little way of prepping themselves for fights. There's the standard work the fitness and work the technique thing, but we all have nuanced differences in the details. I love the pad work for fitness, the bag to get me moving properly and sparring and grappling to get focused. And I hate - HATE - skipping with an absolute passion. I would rather cycle my brains out for an hour, or do sprints up and down the length of the gym non-stop, than skip. The Little Mouse, on the other hand, skips for 45 minutes straight without cracking a sweat. It just looks so ... painful ... to me.

And then there's the diet! New fighters are always asking how to get their bodies properly fueled. Again, it's up to the individual. Little Mouse has pasta and black coffee to give her energy. If I had that, I would need a 3 hour power nap. Miss K likes her fish and salad. I'd be hungry after 12 minutes. I need red meat and green veg... a steak and a bunch of kale work perfectly for me. I think Miss K would rather eat dirt than eat that.

And... wow... last fight in SA. How did it all come to this? On so many levels? I'm going to miss my DP family when I go.

Oh - Miss K (who was born in the same town as me in Canada.. how weird!) sent me this today, which has had me rocking at my desk :)

67 sleeps part 2

Oh - the Airplane Party Pack, for those who have been asking (you know who you are ;) ) -

INGREDIENTS
1 X fun fur leopard print eye mask
1 X fun fur leopard print neck support thingy
1 X pair comfortable, yet bright and ideally bold-print, pyjamas
1 X minibar size bottle of poison of your choice (Jack, Johnny or similar)
1 X Allergex
1X Zolnoft or similar knock-you-dead sleeping pill
1 X 100 ml or less (thanks, Heathrow) tub of cream

DIRECTIONS
After you finish your meal (along with the mini bottle of wine), go to bathroom and put on pyjamas.
Return to seat.
Pop allergex and Zolnoft.
Consume Jack/Johnny while watching cartoons.
Rub face, hands, other exposed skin liberally with cream.
Put on leopard print get up.
Turn off cartoons and put on the classical music station at mid-decibel level.
Pass out.

For me, it's the only way to fly. I could sleep between nine screaming babies, four snoring men, massive turbulence (although I would be upset if I missed it) with my knees cramped around my waist and my neck on a 90 degree angle to the right on the Pack.

When I first started long-hauling it, I never could sleep. I think I watched that Michael Jordan Looney Tunes basketball movie nine times in a row on a Singapore - Cape Town leg once. Between the babies crying and the people snoring I couldn't sleep. Never again. When I flew Etihad from Abu Dhabi to Bangkok, I did the Pack (not for the first time). As the plane started to descend, I woke up on the shoulder of the man sitting next to me, drooling on myself and completely confused. While I was asleep, he ninja-dropped into first class and hosed me some green grapes. He said I looked like I could use some fresh fruit. How sweet :)

67 sleeps

I finally got the batter charger for my Cybershot and have been taking random photos all over the place... on the way to work, at the grocery store, while training in the park with Ms K from Canada. I'm pretty proud of myself.. I have always said to myself, since I lived in Tokyo, that I must take average everyday photos of my life generally so I have some sort of memory of it. Now I'm actually doing it! [high fives] *misses*

So, congrats to the T-Lo on sorting that little thing out. Then, I had this brilliant idea that I would upload photos on this blog of my every day life for my friends and family to see. So... cybershot? Check. Battery? Check. Battery charger? Check. Cool photos ready to be uploaded? Check. Cord thing-y that goes between camera and computer to allow for photo transfer? Fail. Now where did I put that thing?

I'll get there. I will.

69 sleeps

I fear change, yet I thrive on it.

71 sleeps

What self indulgent little tale can I tell today?

I've written about Big E and his Zimbabwe experience [ha!], and Big A and his Namibia experience, so I will share a tale about T-Lo's South Africa experience.

June 1997. Cape Town. I was standing at the Pick n Pay in Gardens with all the money in the world that I had. It fit into my right hand and consisted entirely of brown coins. I figured out I could afford two loaves of multigrain bread. I opted for the multigrain because of its superior nutritional value to the average white bread.

I knew I wanted to get back up to Namibia, and I had three months left on my air ticket (Singapore Airways, via Singapore, highly recommend them) before it expired. I just had to figure out how to stay. I called my Dad. After a brief synopsis of my situation (I didn't want to leave, I wanted to go to Namibia, I just had to get there), I asked if there was anything he could do to help me. He said that he would overnight me something to give me the help I needed. I was overjoyed. Excited. Relieved.

The package arrived. I ripped it open. Do you want to know what was in there? Do you?

The job ads for Toronto. With some career options carefully highlighted in yellow. That was it.

I fumed.

And I was more determined than ever that I would get my *ss to Namibia and work on the Orange, like I had wanted to but not really believed possible. So I packed my backpack, took my remaining loaf and a half of bread and managed to get a lift to the Orange with one of the directors of the company. I told him that I had done a trip as a client and wanted to become a river guide. He told me that the Orange wasn't really suitable for women, maybe I would enjoy catering on the Breede.

I fumed.

And I was more determined than ever that I would become a river guide on the Orange. So, I learnt how to swim properly (doggie paddling doesn't count, apparently), took a river guide course and started doing trips as a 'hantie' - basically, dogs body. I washed dishes on the river. I carried wood and rubbish and pots and pans in my boat. I ran into rocks. I went down rapids backwards. I got stuck in trees. But I kept at it. Pops (the director on the Orange who eventually became a second father to me, Big A and Big E) was amazed by my stubbornness (its a quality I get from my mom, but she calls it 'determination'). Eventually, I was selected to be one of the guides on the company's flagship trip on the Cunene. Yes! It was a two week trip through a game park, down the Cunene, on a cheetah farm....overall brilliant experience. Because I had no where to live in Cape Town, I had to take everything I owned with me on the trip. On the way up to Windhoek at about 4am, the small Venter trailer (carrying everything I owned minus the clothes I was wearing and my wallet) on the back of the fully loaded LandCruiser popped off. We didn't notice. I lost everything I owned. After the trip, I called my mom and cried to her that I had lost everything I owned. She told me that the universe was cleansing me and I should embrace having nothing.

I fumed.

But I was more determined than ever that this would not detract me from enjoying my Africa experience. My airline ticket expired. I didn't care. I was loving life, guiding on the Doring, the Orange and the Cunene. I was living outside, sleeping under the stars at the base camp. I had a sleeping bag donated to me by one of the guides. My entire wardrobe could fit into a 20 liter blue bucket. I did not own make up. I did not read magazines or newspapers. I did not watch tv. I worked for a pittance and had a place to sleep and food to eat. I only found out Princess Diana died (may she rest) four days after she did.

Alas, the time came that I had to go back to the Hammer. I left Namibia in January 1998, at a balmy 50 degrees celcius in the shade. I flew back to Hammer. When I landed, it was -38 degrees celcius with the wind chill. I stayed with my mom in her apartment.

The amazing thing was that because I had slept outside for nine months, I could not sleep inside. So, for the first month I was back, on a nightly basis, I would go out to the balcony, sweep off the snow, drag out my mattress, put about two down duvets and my African sleeping bags on the mattress, put on flannel pjs and sleep outside under the stars. And all of that - and I mean all, the T-Lo story, the Big E story and the Big A story - started with the classified ads.

73 sleeps

Today I am all about this and this. I would like to be all about this.

74 sleeps (for real)

Done. Booked. Insomnia sucks... I wish I had it during the day instead of at night. Am so tired, so very very tired. And busy at work, so very very busy. In light of tired/busy, I give you a photo of a chinese crested dog, because I think they're cute.

Back tomorrow. Happy day, peeps!

31 sleeps + 60 part 2

Bwahahahahahahahha!!

31 sleeps + 60

TheGreek is out of town for two weeks in Stellenbosch, attending a security management course and terrorizing innocent first year university girls. Boo! Hiss! Ahz miss mah Greek housemate. Two weeks! Who am I going to order my mid-week double deal pizza with? Who am I going to argue superpowers with? Or dream symbol interpretation? Or lang-aarm (uh... Afrikaans barn dancing, roughly) to AC DC at 2 am in the lounge?

In his honour, I give you a moment with my housemate, theGreek.

[A hot Saturday, mid-day]

T-Lo: I'm going to Woolies to grab some food. Do you want some?
theGreek: I don't know. What kind of food does Woolies have?
T-Lo: [after a moment's stunned hesitation] Um. I'm getting some fruit.
theGreek: What kind of fruit are you getting?
T-Lo: Melon.
theGreek: What kind of melon?
T-Lo: Watermelon.
theGreek: Like, a whole watermelon or some cut up watermelon?
T-Lo: Cut up.
theGreek: Cut up how?
T-Lo: Well, there is some choice. You can get a small tub of cubed watermelon. Or you can get a large tub of watermelon wedges. Or you can get the melon trio, which is a large tub of watermelon, wintermelon and sweet melon wedges. Or you can get a watermelon and mango fruit salad. Or you can get a small tub of mixed fruit salad that contains watermelon.
theGreek: What was the first choice again?
T-Lo: Small. Cubes.
theGreek: I'll take that. What else are you getting?
T-Lo: Probably a burger.
theGreek: Like a pre-packaged ready to eat burger?
T-Lo: Yes.
theGreek: What kind of burgers do they have?
T-Lo: I'm getting one with mushroom and cheese.
theGreek: Oh, that sounds nice. I'll have that.

Off I trawled to Woolies, sweating in the heat of the mid-day sun. I got back. I gave him his burger and his watermelon cubes. I opened my burger and my watermelon wedges. He eyeballed my watermelon wedges and asked: "Did you give me that option?"

I almost fell off my chair.

32 sleeps + 60

It's a lazy hazy Cape Argus Sunday. The Cape Argus is this mad bicycle race around the peninsula. There are tens of thousands of cyclists on the road, so I'm doing the sensible thing and laying low until its all over. The DomTastic was out watching the cyclists this morning and saw Matt Damon. She screamed her head off and he either smiled or grimaced at her, which made her day. TheGreek is sprawled on the couch beside me, moaning, groaning, napping, shaking. As he does. I'm off to the shops to pick up a battery charger for my CyberShot. I've lost the charger (I always lose the important things, like the charger for my i-pod) so must get a replacement. I want to start taking photos of my last days in Cape Town. If I don't force myself to start now, I never will.

Have a happy Sunday, wherever you are! :)

33 sleeps + 60

It's so hot today... i think Cape Town saw the 40 degree mark earlier this afternoon. TheGreek and I hit Camps Bay beach for a couple of hours just to stop our brains from melting in town. I am going to miss the beach lifestyle so much when I go. The Hammer does have it's own 'waterfront' effect, but for me an ocean is an ocean and Lake Ontario, though beautiful in its own right, is not an ocean. There is no feeling like sand between your feet, or the feel of the warm sun on your body as you read on the beach, or the ice cream headache you get from dipping a toe in the icy Atlantic water. But, as much as I like the beach, it's not enough to keep me here. I've been having an intense G-chat with the DomTastic about life, love, pursuing your dreams and the ever important HOW to pursue your dreams. I must take my own advice... suck it up and push through. I know the decision to go back is the right one, and as time passes and events unfold, it seems the universe is pushing me there, wants me there, anyway. I'm just finding it difficult to leave the life I have here. Again, I shall take my own advice - after I'm gone for 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, I will look back and know that I did the right thing.

35 sleeps + 60

I'm fighting again on 04 April - yay! yay! yay!

In preparation, I am picking up my pre-work runs with Mr Starke. If this morning is anything to go by, I've got quite a bit of work to do this next month. I picked him up at the usual time, blessing him with the musical genius that is ZZ Top, and we hit the Promenade. He was wearing his bling trainers again. Seriously, picture disco balls on your feet. Those are his trainers. He says that, at half off the ticket price, he can put up with the blinginess. (Fair enough - but can your run buddy?) Anyway, I hit my wall about 14 meters in. He set a brisk pace (well, anything beyond a crawl was a brisk pace for me this morning) and I managed to keep up most of the way. Then, with about 400 meters to go, he suddenly took off - sprinted - bounded - into the distance, like a cheetah chasing a dikdik, leaving me laying in a puddle of my own wheezing sweat and wounded pride. I must face it - Mr Starke now OWNS me on the morning runs.

But that's fine. As far as the fight goes, I've got a month to fine tune this body of mine into a machine of note. I'll just keep eating my spinach and practising my CrazyFace until I get it right.

36 sleeps + 60

A conundrum from the NotTheBlog of Mrs Starke:

You're trapped in a well with a goat and a slinky. Describe how you will escape.

37 sleeps + 60

My bros.

38 sleeps + 60 part 2

Some people are asking about the Sexy Surfer's life-altering-experience... you can find it here under Neck Story, in his own words.

Happy Sunday, peeps!

38 sleeps + 60

I'm sitting here at work reading the angryarab blog, looking at random NatGeo photographs and researching chinese horoscope compatibility. That's how I roll at work on a Sunday when nothing's going on.

I remember a conversation I had with my dad a couple of years ago. My dad called me one Sunday, randomly, politely, gently, to say hi. That's not really like my dad. Usually it's a rapid fire exchange of what's happening in our lives, followed by a quick discussion of current affairs and ending off with the latest books we've read. Not so this time. It went like this:

Daddy T-Lo: Hi there.
T-Lo: Hey how are things there?
D T-Lo: Things are fine. I'm calling to see how things are going with you.
T-Lo. Fine, the usual. Have you read Robert Fiske's -
D T-Lo: How's work?
T-Lo: Oh, we're pretty busy these days.
D T-Lo: That's good. That's good. How's the Masters?
T-Lo: Very good. I got a first for my Corporate Governance course.
D T-Lo: That's good. That's good. How's the kung fu?
T-Lo: It's muay thai, Dad. And it's great. I came second in the UM4 and we fought with no pads... it was great!
D T-Lo: What's muay thai?
T-Lo: It's thai boxing. It's like kickboxing, only you can use your elbows and knees. It's AWESOME!
D T-Lo: Oh. I see. That's ... [pause] I'm glad to hear you did well in your competition. Soo.... [pause] is there anyone special in your life?
T-Lo: What do you mean?
D T-Lo: Do you have a boyfriend?
T-Lo: Nope.
D T-Lo: Anyone on the horizon?
T-Lo: Nope.
D T-Lo: Any... uh... recent one night stands?
T-Lo: Dad! NO!
D T-Lo: [using a voice that I swear he picked up from Dr Phil] You know, if you have a girlfriend, you can tell me. You know we'll all love you no matter what.
T-Lo: DAD! I'm single! Not a lesbian!

Bloody hell.

But I think it goes to show how much my family worries about me when I'm over here. I never tell them at the time when something goes wrong, always after. Like, "Hahaha! Four months ago I got mugged! Hahahahh!" or "Hahahahha! I just got over pneumonia! Hahahah!" because I also don't want to them to worry unnecessarily. I think they've all come to accept that I'll always land on my feet somehow and manage to sort myself out and take care of myself.


I must admit, after nearly 13 years, I'm looking forward to getting on that big bad iron bird and singing "I'm coming home" in the manner of Ozzy Osborne, only without the headless dove, the previous heroin addiction and the pack of not-house-trained toy dogs.