(Linky plinky-plonk extraordinaire)
I am still trying to figure out what I want to be one day when I am big. In the meantime I spend my working days typing and reading and bitching about the news. And trying to block out the office radio. I’m not a music snob (mostly) but I have to draw the line at bubblegum pop covers of The Cure. Sacrilege! I miss TUKS fm. Especially when I worked on the music committee during my student days and could playlist Deftones on a Sunday morning. \m/ (metal sign :)
First thing on a week day my cell alarm will go off. (Fiesta, for those of you with Nokias.) Its merry ridiculousness cheers me up in the early morn darkness. After I manage to drag myself out from under all my fluffy blankets I begin the daily shower/beverage/breakfast dance with my housemate (and boyfriend) to the tune of whatever we fancy. It varies from A Perfect Circle to Vivaldi to Radiohead to The Arcade Fire. (Sometimes we really dance and I try not to lead.)
I then begin my drive to work in my little skedonk, curse all the people who push in the queue on the M5, and get lost in my head while listening to my little pink MP3 player. At the moment my playlist includes Queens of the Stone Age, Incubus, and O’stravanganza (a celtic/classical combo with loads of beautiful strings). During the trip I often try to eat home-made popcorn, but most of it ends up on the floor.
I am assistant editor at a boutique publishing house, where I work on a handful of trade magazines. I edit and write news, interviews and other features, and deal with clients. The office is reasonably small, so there is never a queue to use the kettle (yay) and my colleagues are awesome. I used to be an English teacher at a high school in town, but I wasn’t allowed to swear or wear anything low-cut, so that became a problem.
After work I often go to the local library (*nerd alert*) and scout for cool novels to read. I love the soft amber lights and the way everyone there is quietly industrious – it’s like a bustling but peaceful community of word lovers. I do this, or go wander around Canal Walk, because I can’t bear sitting in traffic.
It thrills me to find bargains at the cheapie shops or spend time admiring all the beautiful paper, ribbons and lace at that crafty store downstairs near Checkers. And one day when I die I will go to Woolworths. Soft brushed cotton sheets! White mature cheddar! Beautiful lacy lingerie! Snoopy pjs! Vanilla body butter!
When I get home, Simon is usually singing in the study so I get to guiltily watch Isidingo. (Don’t tell.) I find it very therapeutic to chop, stir and cook, and really enjoy the whole ‘slow food’ notion. (Less fast-food and processed nonsense, more fresh things and home-cooked meals.)
Because both my boyfriend and I are struggling musicians/writers/artists, the meals I make are usually ‘bubble and squeak’ combinations of whatever is in the fridge. One day when I am rich I will be able to buy exactly what I feel like all the time. (I foresee many perfectly ripe Haas avocados; that red Woolies pesto; Lindt extra creamy; Stilton cheese; and white Chocobreak cookies on the menu. But not together.) My lovely personal minstrel will often play guitar and sing while I cook and sip on Shiraz. Most evenings I go out to see people, munch yummy things like sushi or homemade anything, make beautiful music (or trees!) with the Coal ladies, quaff wine/beer/whisky in cosy places, or watch dvds on the couch if the weather is poo, which it often is during soggy Cape winters.
Weekends usually involve lots of socialising and sunbeams and band practice at Kill City Blues. Hey, it’s better than book club! (This, erm, charming sentiment, uttered by a fellow musician one Saturday at practice, keeps us motivated to be first and foremost a good band, not just a group of chicks who are on a break from more ‘suitable’ feminine occupations.)
Heading out to watch live local music and lurk with the rest of CT’s music-loving community is also a weekend treat for me, as well as the rest of the band. If The Sleepers are playing, I will be there with my pompoms out. I am, however, having a little trouble getting Simon into the cheerleader outfit for Coal shows. Just give me time...
Do return next week when one of the other Coal ladies will spill their pretty beans.