Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Heil die Leser! Oh I love saying that. Oh and I had a birthday (whimper)

Hi there all my beloved faithful readers and those bloggers who follow the link to this poor sad offering after I comment on their excellent blogs. This is a warning - I am about to start up again. I have stuff to say. My friends are tired of telling me - Oh Princess Charmy you are sooo funny you really should write a book - or just write your bloody blog Giovanna! Ha! there.... I gave away a secret name... Giovanna...she goes out and does a lot more of the wilder things I simply wouldn't do. She drinks too much red wine (a lot & eats too much too) and she's been known to smoke cigarettes (a thing I would never ever do!!). All in all she's the girl I want to be but whenever she's out I stay home - it's better for the two of us. We would definitely clash. The last time she went out with my buddies she sang old army songs that her grandfather taught her (LOUDLY) to make them laugh, then serenaded them with old jazz standards. She danced Salsa with strangers and stayed out till the booms on the parking area were opened and she didn't have to put her ticket in the doohickey to get out the parking. Had she known the booms were up she probably wouldn't have paid for her parking.

I have been off work with a bad dose of the sh..... Acute Gastro Enteritis it says on the doctor's certificate. I guess that's because every time I think about work I feel shitty. It's not that I don't like my job - I actually enjoy it. It's just that the company I work for is family owned. Dad's the MD and he's ok - just as mean as catshit. I think I got a salary increase this month - it is a year since I joined the company so I guess the extra R37.82 will really come in useful - unless it was just a bookkeeping error and they take the extra cash back next month. 8% now there's a dream - I'd more likely win the Lotto. He's been trying to get a pound of flesh and all the blood out of my veins every since he accidentally agreed to my salary in a moment of weakness. I joined the company for exactly what I was earning in my last job - I just liked the sound of the job and the fact that it is 20 minutes from home. So I could really use an increase by now. Leave would be lekker too..... hahahaha I am such a dreamer.

However, he has a daughter - who is sort of the office manager - except her idea of management is to scream a lot and when all else fails - sulk. I don't respond well at all to screaming and I have had a teenage daughter so I can deal with all this and the sulks - I ignore her - totally.

She only talks to one person in the office, the rest of us are apparently not worth her notice. And she doesn't allow interpersonal chatter (or private phone calls - on your mobile that is ), so some days if I don't talk to clients, the only time I open my mouth is to drink my coffee and tea. Ah yes, that is the only real perk of the job - I too am a manager so the tea lady makes me tea and coffee (copious amounts - she really likes me) in fact, she makes me tea and coffee whilst ignoring little bossy offspring. The only good thing about this girl is she takes lots of time off for post party recuperation and "appointments" that happen from lunchtime (or noon) and end too late for a return to the office. Well every cloud ya know....

Yikes, while I've been sitting here griping in a most unroyal fashion, the corgis are whimpering softly for their dinner - so I better heat up the chicken breasts and caviar and feed them before they turn into a moth-eaten Maltese and a German Shepherd/Labrador cross and the food turns into that stuff that is supposed to keep them slim and young from the vets. At their age I'm doing all I can to keep them looking their best. After all, Lola will be 16 in November (people years) and I think Hobie may be 14 but he lies about his age and never lets me photograph him in profile so I can't be sure.

Soon I will tell you about my visit to Nobu for the Doctor's birthday dinner (ahhhhh) and my birthday lunches (at the Ocean Basket - see the irony - or is it just bathos? and Braza - yummy)

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Here's some stuff that's on my mind

For quite some time I have simply had nothing worthwhile to say. Also I am somewhat nervous of offending those so sensitive that even though they remain nameless in this space they feel the whole world is watching their every move when I comment on their behaviours when they tick me off. But that having been said - here are a few bah humbugs that I can't resist (sorry for offending those more sensitive souls, but frankly I could not care less):

Why do fat people amble from side to side, rocking, very slowly, when they are walking down St George's Mall. Or for that matter any main thoroughfare in Cape Town? Their slow, rolling, amble is in direct proportion to the hurry I am in to get to my lunch spot. They become correspondingly slower the later I am to get back to the office. And why do they hang out in sludgy, rambling groups of at least 3 which leaves the only part of the pavement free the bit which has broken paving stones, red and white police tape (why is that there anyway), large dongas, or an old lady with a zimmer frame and similar ankle-wrenching, progress-preventing obstacles.

Which leads me to my second grouch - why is our office clock set 4 minutes fast, yet I can only leave for lunch at 1.00pm on my watch but must return at 2.00pm on the office clock?

Which does a neat tango into - why is my boss' daughter such an unmitigated, miserable bitch with serious anger-control issues and such poor interpersonal skills at the age of 30? Also, and I only ask this because she believes she has vastly superior intelligence to the rest of us mortals, how can she believe that we fall for her food poisoning stories, when we all hear her arranging her booze-ups and parties in tones usually reserved for regimental sergeant majors bawling out raw recruits on the parade ground. Some of us have seen her drink, she'd be lucky to have food poisoning - it'd surely be less painful than the hangovers she must suffer. On the topic of her telephone voice - is it possible for someone who has grown up in the era of cellphones to believe that she needs to bellow like a deaf old fart when she's having one of her multiple daily personal phone calls. We wouldn't mind, except she drips this fake syrup over all her conversations reminding me of Cruella DeVille trying to charm a puppy into the limo (only louder and less convincing). Naturally, no work is possible during these calls based on the brain freezing, mind numbing noise - and the lack of worthy content. Of course, we are all not permitted to make, receive or even consider personal calls even if it's to call the Fire Department to hear whether they have successfully extinguished the blaze that used to be one's home. She then commands poor, long-suffering daddy to go and stand by the miscreants desk and hover there till they finish this rule-breaking, commerce threatening 3 minute call. It's a good thing I'm a world champion at anger management and self-control or I'd have knocked her silly Olive Oyl head off it's block - so far so good......watch this space ....I could be looking to borrow bail money soon.

Did I mention that I count people's toes? Oh yes for the slower ones amongst you - I just changed the subject. So did I? Well I do. I don't know why I do it but I have done this since I was in my early teens. It's possibly part of my mildly compulsive nature, I'm not sure, but it has been interesting and scary but I can't stop. For example, you'd be surprised how many people have six toes on each foot. Less people only have four toes on one or both feet. Many people have very ugly feet (not really their fault - this can happen to anybody) but why do so few people realise that if they must wear sandals, then a basic requirement should be clean, neatly-trimmed toe nails, scrubbed heels and if they want to wear nail polish on their toenails (men or women - I don't wish to appear in the least bit sexist) please, puleeeze, take it off when it chips!

Here's the odd thing - if a man has feet I find unattractive, I am totally turned off him physically and just can't bear to have any part of his foot touch me (really, any part of anything attached to his foot either - like legs, butts, luncheon meat, hips...etc,etc - you're getting this anyway - I don't have to labour the issue).

And lastly, ok it's hardly the last thing I'm going to grumble about, but lastly for today, Saturday, 7th March 2009 - Why do Capetonian pedestrians stand and stare at the little green man at the traffic lights like it's a martian, but when the lights are NOT in their favour, they step boldly into the traffic straight into the path of oncoming cars and don't even flinch at the squealing of tyres etc. Why do they cross all roads as if they have a death wish? I'd like to oblige them, but I hate the sound of bones cracking and skin splitting, and I am trying to preserve my no-claims bonus. Not to mention it could really put a damper on the rest of this otherwise interesting life knowing that I have, in all innocence, squooshed a pedestrian.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Are you watching this space?

It's late and I'm really tired and I've been downloading all sorts of shit that should be on my computer and isn't - like virus protection and acrobat and boring stuff like that. BUT, I'm back and I've got ideas and I'm going to be posting something very, very soon......you have been warned.

So, you will have guessed that I finally have my new computer. I've had it a while now but thanks to the ministrations of Telkom, getting my ADSL up and running was the stuff that movies are made of. The kind where the main character goes totally doolalley and shoots up the entire telephone company headquarters because he's lost all touch with reality after dealing with them...?? Before it got better ..it got a lot worse. Like I ended up without even a telephone. Don't ask me how that works but that's what happened. And that wasn't actually the worst. Argh I'm rambling. I'm going to drink my decaf and call my dogs and we're off to sleep.

See you all soon...except for my detractors who can all piss off right now because I am in no mood to deal with that lot!

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

I have been tagged! Thanksalot!

So I've been tagged - thanksalot Caz. But having made grouchy noises, I'm quite ok with doing this meme because the topic is 5 reasons why I love South Africa.
Here goes: (oh, word of warning here - non-saffricans may need to google some of the references and most saffricans may be mildly bored by my choices?)
  1. SA has a rhythm, a tempo, a beat. I know y'all don't know what I mean, neither would I have understood this reference till I went to Japan. Then I kept feeling that something was missing in that admittedly wonderful, strange, polite country. But eventually, the sense of quiet rhythmless order made itself clear to me and I knew I was missing the pulse that is South Africa. It's not something you hear with your ears, it's a beat you feel in your heart.
  2. Braai's - not that I'm all that fond of overcooked, slightly charred meat, but nothing smells quite like a braai. (bbq to the rest of your philisti...foreigners). Beer tastes best with the smell of braai in your nostrils, hair and clothes. Friends are funnier, children are acceptable and dogs can eat all the leftovers. Then you throw the plates in the bin (paper of course), stash those strange plastic/straw paper plate holders and bin the empties and look forward to the next one.
  3. Biltong - I am not going to explain this to the foreigners - how do you explain that dried raw meat flavoured with coriander and dangerously capable of giving you toxoplasmosis - tastes divine and soothes the soul.
  4. Game reserves. You can watch all the Animal Planet and NatGeoWild you like, it doesn't come near to going on a night game drive. The excitement of seeing a herd of elephants pass within spitting distance of you and being filled with amazement at how silently they move is unbeatable. Never mind how remarkable it is to see a mother lion eating a deer whilst her cubs play around her....Omigosh toooo wonderful.
  5. Spur, Nandos, Steers, Windhoek Beer, Ocean Basket, beaches, mountains, bush, fynbos, the V & A Waterfront, wire sculptures and plastic bag guinea fowls, ah hell who can choose.
  6. A bonus extra one: the love & affection that saffricans show each other daily. With all our differences and the cruelty of the past regime, we can laugh together and share triumphs and tragedies alike without having to explain anything and we have the best slang ever to do it in.

I'm tagging Don't believe a word I write, Angel, Sweets, Becauseican, Trash'd. Hope you all enjoy this slight departure from my usual grouchy self.

Link back to the meme creator (that would be Caz)
Link to the person who tagged you (that would be me http://charmskool.blogspot.com/)

Give (at least) 5 reasons why you love SA
Tag at least 5 peeps
Let me know when you've done it!

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Threats, invocations and hairy Greeks

A very keen reader has threatened to send a hairy Greek after me if I don't write something.... anything... even what I'm wearing will apparently suffice, so here is some random stuff for you all to read.
I'm wearing black pants and a black and melange twofer with a pretend white shirt under it. And black socks from Woolies and black ballet pumps. And a black stretch velvet jacket. A red glass bead necklace with silver stripes in the beads and a pewter, silver and lampwork bead bracelet. The jewellery is made by me and is very beyoootiful!
I'm working my little tochas off at my new job and my brain is so deeply occupied with the complicated stuff that makes up my job and answering the questions of my assistant and dealing with the phone and the clients and ....etc that I haven't had time to really focus on the blog. Also what with not wanting to offend any sensitive readers I've been a little hesitant to be my usual acerbic self.
Oh yes, I'm also really happy at work so my mood is too good to think of anything to grouch about.
Ah well, maybe just a few things:
Taxis! Yep you have heard all you want to hear about taxis, but I have to have a teensy little moan here about the spawn of Satan. See, I park in a parking structure in one of the main streets in the city (paid for by the employers lucky me hey?) and every morning I have to screech to a halt as the bloody taxis stop dead without warning in the lane I need to be in to get to my parking garage. Then as I collect all my clothing that fell off with the sudden stop, the bastards stop in the entrance to the garage and offload twenty-seven passengers, while I sit behind them, indicator flicking away like an '80's disco and wait till they unblock the way and I can get up the ramp. Natch behind me is a collection of red-faced motorists who are all hooting at me like it's my fault! Sheesh!
Then there's the smokers! The entire city of Cape Town stinks like an ashtray! When I walk to my office I'm the only person in the road without a cigarette in my hand - at 7.15 a.m. ugh the smell is enough to make me puke. Every doorway has 5 smokers huddled there like a bunch of junkies and the smoke hangs over them like something in a forties film noir. Also there's always at least 4 or 5 good folk who walk with their cigarettes poking out at their sides and when I get home I find all these holes burned into my clothes from the flying cinders.
The upside is - it takes me about 10 minutes to get to work and I can buy excellent coffee on the way down the road to work - although our tea lady would be most upset - she hovers over me with an anxious look anytime she sees my coffee cup is empty and is only happy when she can fill it again - so I oblige - my liver is on it's last legs.
Also there is a Woolies in spitting distance from the office and I don't have to find parking to go shopping anywhere any more. And a Pick 'n Pay in the parking garage building - oh bliss.
And I'm still using the same tank of petrol I put in my car on the 18th of August !!!!!!!!! There is still a half a tank left. And the employers pay for my petrol so I'm going to have to jol further from home these days.
I am reeelly looking forward to the 19th of September because La Lue, Beach Girl, Boat Boy, Frequent Shopper, Billy the Kid and I are going to Diaz Tavern for supper and to listen to Ernesto! Oh wonderful, Portuguese food, and a Paraguayan singing in Italian, La Lue chattering in Greek and Beach Girl talking Afrikaans and Billy the Kid talking to every woman in the whole place, red wine, dancing and general debauchery - I can't wait. Btw La Lue says Ernesto is absolutely gorgeous looking and predicts I'm going to fall in love with him....good I could use a new interest in life. Joburg hunk has gone back to the ex-girlfriend so he's off the stalker list.

Betenoir took portrait pics of me a couple of weeks ago. I had to feed her and Panic Embryo roast chicken, roast potatoes and veggies (they brought the pud) as a bribe. She tells me I look like Stevie Nicks (before the drugs says Bete) with my new curly hair style, but I wouldn't know. She HASN'T LET ME SEE THEM YET!!!! Keep an eye on her Flickr site (convenient link here on my blog) and soon you will all have an idea what the Charmy looks like - hmmm... stalkers to follow shortly I guess?

Well, it's ten minutes to home time so I'm going to pack up and leave shortly. But before I go I want to state here and now that if I have offended anyone with this post. Tough luck.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Now you can be sorry that the post is gone...or not?

Is there anybody out there?
So it turns out that amongst my lurkers I have one (actually many) who never comments, has no compliments to pass on by email and has never acknowledged that they read my blog. Well, that is the nature of lurkers and what on earth would we do for readers if we excluded lurkers. However, this lurker was kind enough to contact the relative in Dubai who's wife I was ranting about and I believe the expression that may apply here includes the words shit and fan. I was asked by the relative to delete the blog and whilst it goes against much of what I'm trying to achieve here, I have done that for him. If it bothered him that this post existed then it's the least I can do. At least I heard from a relative who never contacts me and that was nice in itself. I do want to point out here that I am deleting the post because I played the player and not the ball. I apologize for the hurt that was caused by the person being harranged about having to read the rant on the advice of a well-meaning "friend", I'm sure that I would hate to read something like that about myself. I disliked the behaviour not the person and should have remembered to make them unidentifiable.
I do, however, really hate being subjected to the third degree by people who don't take the time to listen to the answers. Especially when they make it obvious that they have no interest in the answer by looking away and beginning a conversation with someone else.
So, for the last time - I'm sorry for hurting your feelings - I'll get over being pissed off that I spent my birthday lunch it a state of deep irritation - anyway I had a terrific birthday dinner and my friends know better than to ignore my answers - them I smack! I also know what I will be doing on my next birthday - having lunch with my mates!
As for Steve Hofmeyer (I read that while Steve Hofmeyer was in hospital recently for to put his bowel back together again, he taught the nurses to play the guitar and sang to the person who shared his ward. Ah Lordy, lordy, lordy as La Lue would say: "please if I ever get sick and go to hospital and need to have my doohickey surgically removed, please holy jaybuz don't let me be there when Steve Hofmeyer is there.") I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to apologize to him - I would still have some kind of cardiac episode if he sang to me when I was sick in the hospital!
So that's my post for the day - a kind of deletion exercise with amendments to boot. All errors and exceptions (taken and left off) will be for the readers account.
Cheerio all my loyal readers - and loyal and disloyal lurkers alike