wedding bells...and other little sparkly things

Wow. Wedding bells are ringing in my ears and I still have a few more to get through! Anyway, best friend from class one’s wedding happened recently, and finally, after 11 years of letters, sms’s and post office mix ups, I finally saw her!! Well, I kinda didn’t recognize her sitting on the stage – had to ask this totally gold-clad lady at the door if this was in fact the bride I was looking for…and ended up making a late entrance with a huge gift I which was threatening to fall off balance. Late. Im never late. But then again, mum and I haven’t attempted driving to Sherwood on our own :) really, since getting the car, I think it stressed us out more.lol. now we actually have to watch where we’re going and how. Anyway, so we missed the Sherwood off ramp (I blame it on bad lighting) and ended up on the way to stanger – where ironically best friend is from, and after we got hooted at for driving like snails and mum finally sped up by 10kms, we reached the hall 1 and a half hours later at 7pm. Needless to say, we received a lot of stares and had to be escourted riiiight to the front like late-comers at school. I was proud of mum for getting us there though! To my feigned surprise, class one teacher popped up and said ‘oooh! I cant wait to be invited to your wedding!!’ while her husband gave me a sloppy one on the cheek. Eish. And as for my poor feet, the injustice done to them by my torture devices called sandals, is something im still getting over. All in all, it was one wedding that wasn’t about flashing lights and photographers or dressed up Barbie dolls, there was something about it that was sweet and humble (apart from the gals at my table screaming about going to suncoast fot the after-party and the food which wasn’t that grand). And though it wasn’t my choice of colours or venue, it was just great to see someone who deserves to be happy finally realizing her wishes. But boy was it hard letting go of that gift! Lol, that I’ll admit – I mean, take a look:



Gorgeous! R300 bucks right there. Man, but it was worth hearing how much she loved it.
And this was the envelope I made which matched the card:


I miss my creativity…you know that feeling where there’s so many things to do but so little time…so you basically end up doing nothing because doing something will actually take up that time? hehe…first mosaics I ever made:

Lil bit undefined. I remember walking into Game and going to the hardware section on my cloak and scarf on a Friday afternoon and asking a perplexed male attendant for grout, a tile cutter and tile glue.lol! its lying around behind a cupboard now. Anyway, my mum isn’t well, so im a bietjie worried… mum’s a workaholic, all smiles lady with a flair for beautiful things, hence, she will not sit down even after her doctor (whose cheeks I want to pinch coz he looks like puff pastry) gave her the week off. So madam hurt her back and gets an injection right there, but then I see her climbing onto a stool to put something on top of the cupboard. Lol, now that’s when independence comes and bites you in the behind! Really, I cant leave her alone for a second before she starts spring cleaning or something else mother’s do. She’s adorable, don’t know what life would be without her. She’s the coolest person eva. Hey, that’s what Dew calls her – Eva. No, not longoria – a more decent kinda Italian looking.

Oh! Jo and I watched Bad Girls Go to Heaven (a play starring some Indian gals from campus) – let’s just say it was so bad, I forgot about the heaven part. Really. From the opening scene, which included every definition of the ‘f’ word…to explicit sexual detail…to unstructured speeches to the audience under spotlights by all four gals and finally, to the dancing…I was awestruck. And not in a good way. And cherry on the top- I sat next to jo’s dad for the first half. My word. Jo and I were shocked speechless, and my lights were on, but nobody was home coz I almost walked over to a red wine glass thinking, ‘wow, these ppl have grape juice here,’ but thankfully jo, my saviour pointed out the obvious :)
As for the writer, who was an Indian guy who had the ability to get a venue like the playhouse, with all those resources, it was sad that he used what so many people strive for, to display a sleazy play which made too many audience members blush and cross their legs in shame.
On the other hand, Saturday night heralded a good dose of food for thought at the Kwasuka theatre documentary festival, with the screening of the ‘Liberace of Baghdad,’ which followed 8months in the life of a pianist at a hotel in Baghdad. It was a 78 minute humourous, sad, realistic portrayal of a man’s life and quest to go to America to reunite with his wife and children, two of whom were living with him. His character was amazing – and the viewer immediately felt an attachment to this somewhat scruffy warm-hearted Librace whose patience and tolerance through such war was refreshing, as opposed to the arm’s length report we see on the news. His words were original, funny and sometimes strikingly poignant, and was one of the best attempts I’ve seen from an English journalist in a while. Wish it could be screened so that many others could revel in this wonderfully packaged reality check…living day to day – not knowing if you’ll be killed the next second, but living with hope and heart.

Well, I gotta run to class, ngizokhuluma isiZulu manje…eish, I don’t know why I chose to do zulu – the words don’t seem right when they come outa my mouth.
Tata you jelebi’s and burfi’s and chana magaj’s that take the time to read my jargon!