How to lose a guy in 10 days
I love to read articles about understanding men, mostly from the home
page on MSN. Every time I discover some delicious new fact about our Martians, I try it out on my better half. His response is always something like, ‘The trouble with women is that they take all their man-talk from other women.’
I always want to yell, ‘Men don’t talk about their feelings, so we have to discover them through other women … or gay friends!’ And somehow I don’t think man advice from a gay pal counts for much, because their thought process is painfully close to mine.
Unless of course he’s a guy-gay, in which case he probably knows nothing about women.
When the movie first came out in 2003, I swore I wouldn’t watch it. My swearing didn’t have any particular motive. It wasn’t about being macho and resisting chick flicks, even though I had just watched that traumatising movie with Renée Zellwegger. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it had a lot of pink, and one scene had a simulated split screen lap dance dry humping thing … which some people found funny, but I found incredibly sad.
The real reason I avoided 10 days is because from what I could see in the preview, I was definitely a 10 days kind of girl, and nobody needs that kind of affirmation. Read the rest of this entry →







A few days ago, I was at a workshop, and we had to set up a DVD player. I was in charge of logistics, so I got the machine then asked for some boy in the know to come hook it up.
Right now, I weigh 70. It’s very distressing, since even while pregnant, I didn’t go over 65. Somewhere between sun, sand, and Morocco burgers, I gained ten kilos. Luckily, the excess weight doesn’t show unless you look very closely. It’s mostly centred around the middle, and corsets do wonders to hide that. But corsets can’t stop heart disease, fit under bathing suits, or solve bedroom shyness. So now, my target is to lose 10 kg.
For a while now, I’ve wanted to dye my hair purple. I got the idea from a close pal, who also got me enrolled in a gym. I’d always known that if I had caucasian hair, I’d wear it spiky and tinted, but I’d never seriously thought of colouring my dreads.

There’s a popular joke that if you want to know how your wife will look in twenty years, just study your mother-in-law. It’s all very well if your wife’s mum is Njoki Ndung’u, less cool if she is, say, someone else.


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