October 2005 Archives

I had this whole thing planned out for Halloween, honest. I even LEFT THE HOUSE (yes, GASP! indeed) on Saturday and took pictures and EVERYTHING so that I could upload it today.

But, with me being The World's Laziest Blogger and all, which one can only successfully be if one is... well, lazy, of course, but also disorganised and a procrastinator and barely awake most of the time, there will be none of those carefully planned Halloween-themed pictures appearing on this blog today.

Instead, I'll be true to my nature and title of The World's Laziest Blogger and post the pics at an inappropriate time long after everyone's forgotten about Halloween. Like around Christmas time next year maybe.

I suspect that those of you who are aware that I was a journalist, long ago in a past life, are probably wondering to yourselves why and how (and who and when and where and what... see, I vaguely remember the gist of journalism) the likes of me ever picked and held down such a deadline-driven job if I have trouble keeping up this blog (which, I'll let you in on a little secret, not blogging often and never continuing stories is actually part of my duties as The World's Laziest Blogger. Why, thank you for thinking that I do it very well and for saying that I'm a natural at it!).

Truth is, when I opened up the career councilling/college course brochure and read: "Journalism: The ideal field of study and career for the individual who thrives on deadlines," my eyes got stuck on the "dead" part of deadline and I envisioned an office filled with dim lighting and comfy couches on which journalists are leisurely strewn about emulating the dead and quietly (or, in the event that the journalist snores, not so quietly) dreaming up stories. And I thought to myself, "Why, even I can do that!"

Ha! Imagine the unpleasant surprise I received when I showed up on the first day of the job at the newspaper and there was NO COUCH in sight!!!! Just very upright, uncomfortable office chairs (well, being upright IS a very uncomfortable position for me to be in), and desks, with notepads and computer monitors and keyboards on which we were expected to furiously type away stories which had to be in YESTERDAY.

And just the horror of that awful memory has completely drained and exhausted me, so it's time for me to immediately take what I hope would be a nightmare-free nap.

Found this Meme at the lovely Martha's (who turned 30 on Monday. Go and wish her, I beseech you!). It's a great Meme. No difficult questions to try and answer in a witty or clever manner, no code to copy and paste after answering multiple choice questions. None of that. This Meme only requires you to Google the following: "(Your Name) needs" - The results could be quite hilarious.

At first I Googled my real first name, but since that name ceased to be popular in... oh, who am I kidding, it was NEVER popular because it's a horrible name and I'll never forgive my parents for it! Anyway, the real name didn't get any results, so I Googled 'Red needs' instead.

The mighty Google quickly found that Red needs the following:

1) Red needs linoleum for indoor areas… (Personally, I think I need a good shag (carpet, ye dirty minded beasts!), but well… )
2) Red needs attention (YES! A lot! Always!)
3) What Red needs is something to accentuate the burn (Er… no thanks!)
4) He told me that Red needs oxidation. (Sure. And I'm not even picky about what the chemical substance should be that must be combined with my oxygen, nor do I care who the 'he' is that suggested it!)
5) Red: needs graphics (Well, I just had a reDeesign, but I’ll certainly take a rain check!)
And lastly, my favourite:
6) Red, needs engine (ran out of oil)* otherwise good condition (Why thank you; you are not so bad yerself!)

Feel free to play.

*Isn't it fantastic that one of my searches contained parentheses?!?

Cherry and his bevy of bloghers

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One of my very first buddies in blogging - the ultra-cool and madly talented Cherryflava - thinks it's about time to add a woman's touch to his blog.

I was just about to pack up my very girly scented candles (er... Cherryflava'd, the lot of them, of course!) and my collection of how-to books and head on over there, until I saw that he wants a girl writer with TALENT.

Luckily for him, there seems to be no short supply of talented girls in the Cape Town area (that was another preference, although not an absolute must) with rockin' writing skills.

Unluckily for him, it also makes picking just one a bit more difficult. Which is why he has resorted to a good, old-fashioned write-off.

Head on over there, why don't you? Witness the girls in action in day two of the write-off, and help the boy decide which one of those girls would add the most feminine flava to his domain.

The competition is fierce: ranging from the typical girl-talk (SHOES! Internet dating! Romantic hide-aways!) to the tech (Online phone services) to the where-to-be-seen scene. In other words, it's Cherry, but it's also sugar and spice and all things nice.

Quick! One of the girls is about to be impaled by a six-inch Manolo, wielded by a girl with a cocktail stain on her dress...

Yippeeee!

| | Comments (15)

Comments seem to be working again!!!

Before I get too cocky (about it being back in working order because of something I've done all by myself for a change, and not because of her or her or her web-wizardry), maybe I shouldn't speak prematurely. I mean, it could've been working due to the fact that I was commenting to my own site, no?

I did, however, delete some funny-looking things from my MT blacklist, and by saying 'funny-looking' you can imagine for yourselves HOW funny-looking it must've been amongst all the blacklisted items for things to enhance body parts which I don't possess and just all the nastiest things one couldn't possibly imagine on one's own, no matter how gutter-minded one thinks one is.

Maybe my unusually militant (these days, at least) spam police just took a brief doughnut break at the very moment that I decided to leave a comment, therefore allowing me to slip through.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see!

P.S. Thank you and you and you and you AND you AAAAAANNNND lastly, but not leastly, you very much for assuring me that you've been trying to comment and to tell me that I shouldn't have to rely on receiving comments to know that you still read. I know I've said this before, but part of getting your feedback is what thrills me the most about blogging!

I know one is supposed to blog for one's own pleasure/well-being/therapy/whatever (and I applaud those bloggers who do, honestly I do!), but I'd be lying shamelessly if I claimed that I don't write with all of you in mind. I know that goes against the grain of every single "how-to" writing book I have in my possession (and believe me, I have quite a collection!), but maybe it's because I was trained to write (and clearly my mind wandered a lot in class, because I still have a LOT to learn about writing) for a newspaper/magazine/television/radio audience all those eons ago when I was in journalism school.

Thank you all for sticking with me, through thick and not-thin-yet-but-dreaming-about-it-every-day; through broken comments and working comments; through my blogging dryspells and my blogging... well, I guess I've never really had a blogging downpour (or outpour, for that matter); through my gross over-use of parentheses and asterisks; through all my to-be-continued's, and then never continuing. (I promise, Kim, I'll get there yet!)

I ADORE you guys, even though I've never received a single hate-mail out of any one of you! (And in the rare, miraculous event that I have a new sucker reader: only popular bloggers seem to ever receive hate mail (you gotta admit, someone has to REALLY care to take all the time and energy to send you any kind of comment, but ESPECIALLY a hateful one!), and I've never received a SINGLE hate-mail, which is why I'm so obsessed about it. Oh, well...)

P.P.S. And on a different note. This totally deserves its own post, but since the back-corridors here at Redsaid's are already way too cluttered with half-written entries and my good intentions of getting them done and published, I'll just do it right now: Everyone, PLEASE go over to Annika's and say congrats? Just like so many other bloggers right now, the girl has a little something growing in her stomach! Man, and I have trouble merely keeping up this BLOG! Anyway, I would've left a comment myself on her site to offer my congrats, but unfortunately, she has turned off anonymous comments, so I can't creep her out by pretending to be a stalker anymore, and well, that just takes all the fun out of it, now doesn't it? Oh, and on a different note, Linda has already had her bundle of joy and future blogger! So congrats are due there as well.

Was it something I had said?!?

Because three days go by and I still don't have a single comment?!? Now, before you think: "How vain of her to think that we should lower ourselves to not only always read what she has to say, but then also take the time and effort to say something about what she has had to say! We have a life, woman! Even if you don't!"

No, please don't be so aggressive, that's not what I'm saying at all! I just mean that I've learned over the year and a half of leisurely blogging that no matter what I say or how often I don't say it (what with upholding my reputation of being the world's laziest blogger and all), there were always, much to my astonishment, a few of you who were obviously so bored at work, that you had something to say about what I had said. Almost without fail. Even though I'm notorious for not replying to what you have to say to me (not because it's not important, understand, it's just that usually I can't think of a sufficient, equally witty comeback!).

You get what I'm sayin'?

As I was saying, I was beginning to think that it must've been something I'd said that made you, my five (yes, FIVE now!) readers quite unhappy. So unhappy, in fact, that you thought it didn't even warrant sending me hate mail!

My fears were immediately eased when I received mail (regular, still not hate! What on earth does a girl have to do around here to receive hate mail?!?) from her and her telling me that my comments police is working overtime (for a change. Usually they are on a very convenient doughnut break when the spammers strike) and so apparently nobody has been able to leave any comments!

Is this true? IS IT? Leave your answer in the comme...

Duh. Never mind. I suppose that was a rhetorical question.

Or, if you really want, you can drop me an e-mail. Even hate mail. Seriously, anything will do!

P.S. And if anyone out there is familiar with the mysterious ways of the MT Blacklist, please, HEEEEELP!

Smashing Weekend

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On Saturday night/Sunday morning, as I was breezing through my usual weekend routine of clubbing and fending off admiring, handsome men falling over themselves to buy me dri...

Okay, okay! So now you KNOW that I'm lying.

So let's try again... Take 2: On Saturday night/Sunday morning, as I was engrossed in my usual weekend routine of sitting at home in my coffee- and chocolate-stained pajamas and head-to-toe anti-wrinkle cream and watching middle of the night infomercials all by myself (hold me now and let's weep together over the state of my utterly pitiful, anti-social life!), I thought I heard a crash.

Since it was three a.m. and since I wasn't REALLY watching an infomercial but - thanks to unusually benevolent network television fall offerings for insomniacs without cable or satellite t.v. - a rather terrifying episode of (cue scary music) The Twilight Zone, I reacted in my usual brave manner.

That's right! As soon as I heard the crash, I dove under the covers and cowered.

Before you hand over that Purple Heart for Bravery (which, if it's not too much trouble, I'd rather swap for a valid Green Card, if I may!), here's what I did next.

My curiosity eventually got the better of me and I ACTUALLY GOT OUT OF BED AND - as if that fact alone isn't remarkable enough - I descended the dark stairs to check if everything was okay.

As I was inching down the steps, trembling, I cursed myself for not being more sporty. And not just because I was wheezing from the exertion of actually being out of bed AND climbing stairs, but because at that moment, I really could've used the security that comes from wielding a baseball bat or a tennis raquet.

Finally, after about 45 minutes, I successfully made it down the stairs and into the dark living room. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I made out the shape of the invader crouching in the shadows... I wanted to scream, but couldn't, so instead, I stood there, rooted to the spot by fear and helplessly waiting for what I was sure would be the end of me. So I simply closed my eyes and waited...

And waited...

And, so at last, when I was sure that I was indeed still alive and nothing had happened, I finally dared to open my eyes.

It took only a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I braced myself and turned my head to face my savage, would-be attacker. I had every intention of asking him what on earth was taking him so long, or if he liked toying with his victims like this by dragging things out.

I was just about to locate my voice and start giving my little (but very brave) speech, when I lay eyes on the intruder again.

It was...



















about
is a South African girl living in South Africa. That doesn't sound very original, we know, but you might find it remotely interesting when you learn that she has only recently returned to South Africa for the first time after a nine year, one month and two week (non-stop!) stint in the United States where she accidentally became an outlawed alien (also known, especially in immigration circles, as an 'illegal immigrant.' We prefer the term 'outlawed alien' ourselves). During her reversed exile from her homeland, she kept herself occupied by winning this website (but only after shamelessly bribing the judges) and thus being unleashed on the web where she slowly, leisurely became the World's Laziest Blogger; by being a nanny and by attending sci-fi conventions in search of other aliens. In the US, she also made her sailing debut, her international acting debut, tried and failed to learn the piano, and never learned to cook. She is hopelessly addicted to coffee, dogs (especially Labrador Retrievers), how-to books (with a particular fondness for her copy of the Time/Life A - Z Medical Encyclopedia), and she tends to grossly overuse parentheses (we're not kidding) during her attempts at writing, which you may - if you really have masochistic tendencies - subject yourself to by reading the words to the right of this column. If you REALLY and truly STILL want to know more, you can read her C.V. here.
Or you can stalk her send her some love via e-mail at: redsaid[AT]gmail[DOT]com

The Wish List (Because yes, she really does need more how-to books. Honestly!)

online


comments
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Terra: YES! Wait... you didn't think that I would be this possessed to post for NO REASON, did ya???... [go]
  • Terra.Shield : OH! ... [go]
  • Marco Author Profile Page: Be a bit like serving drinks at AA?... [go]
  • Marco Author Profile Page: I personally think it is a mindset that has been cultivated over the years, and one, if not stemmed,... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Ms. Crazy Cat Lady Pants!!! Squeeeee! Sooo good to see you! (I thought NO ONE was bothering to read ... [go]
  • Ms. Pants : Kitties don't get enough credit sometimes. (All times, if you ask me, but I'm a Crazy Cat Lady.)... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Hey Tamara! I know, right?? That is a tough act to follow indeed. I adored that dentist. He used to ... [go]
  • Tamara Tipton : Well, I am not sure how any dentist could live up to that standard! LOL! I hope your appointment was... [go]
  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: I'm really really glad that I'm not the only one, Po! Sometimes I drive myself mad with all the what... [go]
  • Po : Those questions run through my heads for various times in my life too, that is for sure!... [go]
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