Being on the inside of ‘if these walls could talk’…

There are a few things I’ve been meaning to tell you guys lately.  I just never get around to it because this real life thing is far too time consuming for blogging convenience.  Urgh, it’s such a pain.

I’ve moved into my own cottage at last.  It’s a lot smaller than I remember and the kitchen and the bathroom suck.  Okay, so does the bedroom – there are not enough plugs, I’m used to running a sub-station in my room what with all my girlie things needing to be charged and electrocuted.  Actually, the whole place is a bit of a wreckage, but fuck it – I’ll make do and make it my own.  As soon as I get my things here from Durban.  The “cottage” will become “home” as soon as my personal things get put up.  Like the photo frame of a million photos of me.  And all my perfumes and throw pillows and Sharks Forever paraphernalia

The porno red carpet is pretty cool though.  Even if there are pink leather couches sitting on top of them.  Yeah, I know – red and pink.  My mom would die of shame.  The red 70’s fridge is cool.  The thatched roof is not.  I had a friend here the other day and he was trying to placate me whilst freaking out about snakes and cockroaches and crawly things.  I’m so paranoid I wake up to something other than me in my bed. 

Am thinking of doing a house warming shindig.  I mean that metaphorically and literally – the cottage is fucking FREEZING at night.  And I wasn’t thinking so much when I bought my heater.  It warms up like a charm, but it lets off so much light I may as well be in a Taiwanese torture chamber.  But also, I was hoping to have a few of my blogging friends around for drinks – if you’re in Jozi please contact me and we can work something out.  Maybe a Saturday afternoon garden picnic or something.  That’s one thing about this Amish Funny Farm – we have loads of garden.  There’s even a gazebo effort thing.  Yes.  Lets do it!

I’m lonely.  For the first time in a long time, I am very lonely.  I think because some feelings in me were stirred up and now I can’t ignore the fact that I’m probably getting over the act of being Miss Independent.  I feel blind even admitting that, but there you go… somehow, somewhere, somehow in the last few weeks I’ve realised that having someone in my life on a regularish basis wouldn’t be all that bad.  I hope I don’t jinks myself now and find some rof en tof oke from Brits who likes to wear his jean pant wiff a smart shiny top.

Dash would be proud, it’s taken me a year and three months since I blogged about my feelings and crap – but I’ve decided that I’ve let you guys stand on the outside of the wall for too long now.  I’m not being stalked anymore, I can actually start opening up on my blog again.  Well, I can at least try…

Talfer, I’m back baybee.  Thanks for the kick up the pants.

2 comments

  1. Jeanette says:

    Sounds like an interesting cottage!! How long before your stuff arrives?
    You going to bloggirls tomorrow, that’ll keep you busy for a few hours? 🙂
    An afternoon picnic thing sounds fabulous! Hope I crack an invite 😉

  2. Wenchy says:

    My mind is still on the ouk with the jean pant from Brits.

    🙂

    Oh, and the carpet sounds very girls of the playboy mansion…. it can work babe! Take off yr top.

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