Mortification

Mortification, there is nothing like it.

You would think that the older you get, the more you would learn from your mistakes and not make them again.

Unfortunately I tend to have the habit of making the same mistakes over and over, especially when it comes to men.

For example:

I always go for the bad boys, the worse they treat me, the more I like them. The saying: ‘Treat em mean, keep em keen’ was made for girls like me.
When Oprah first publicised ‘He’s just not that into you’ I zoomed to the shops and read it cover to cover.

I was one of the ‘yup he REALLY REALLY isn’t into you’ kind of girls. It didn’t stop me, bad boys are like a crack addiction, you know it’s so bad for you, but you love it so much, you just can’t give it up.

And you would think that by the age of almost 28 after having my fingers burned countless times I would learn. But no.

I remember back in my hey day, I had such a wonderful, good looking and kind boyfriend who would have done anything for me. He told me I was funny, pretty and perfect wife material. He wanted to make me roasts on Sunday and snuggle up and watch dvds.

But then the irresistibly posh, disgustingly smug and gorgeous looking bad boy from my office started sending me filthy emails.
I loved it. I couldn’t get enough. I was like f*** the boyfriend, let’s shag and shag the filthy bad boy.

So I did on numerous occasions - and after a while I felt bad for shagging 2 boys at once, so I dumped the boyfriend for the filthy bad boy. Said bad boy (obviously) dropped me like a hot potato as soon as he found out I had dumped my darling boyfriend. And now the kind, lovely boyfriend is about to be engaged to his faithful new girlfriend..

Karma can be a bitch.

Needless to say I am doggedly trying to find the ‘Mr Perfect’ which is absolutely impossible as he doesn’t really exist as we all know. I think I need to lower my standards BIG time.

But to make it worse, I keep on making such terrible faux pas (plural?) and what is worse… I have done it in writing. The problem with social media these days is that you get to stalk your exes on Facebook, follow Ashton Kutcher on Twitter and check out your ex hot boss on LinkedIn, however sending a message can be detrimental to your reputation as it is smack bang there in black and white.

So now I am having an absolute cringe - worthy, spine shivering, ‘ok blind’ experience as I sent a hot guy a private message on Facebook – 2 weeks ago. And guess what? No response. And I know he has been on Facebook. So now I have horrifying images of him taking a screen grab of my message and sending it to his friends labelling me the bunny boiler like Demi Moore in Fatal Attraction.

Seriously, I need help. Can someone please, please wean me off my bad boy addiction?

Teeth

I wonder how many other girls feel the same way about...teeth.

I know that I am rather fussy when it comes to boys' looks but the one think I thing is an 'ay or nay' is teeth. When I lived in London I used to shudder at those tea stained, neglected teeth of many Brits who would rather spend money on a Man U football shirt than go to the dentist. However, in their defense I was pleasantly surprised as a lot of the men do have lovely sparklers.

I had an ex boyfriend once who was stubborn about brushing his teeth. He preferred to go to bed with 'the taste of food in his mouth'. How I put up with that I have absolutely no idea.

But I recently finished a very very brief fling with a British guy and upon recollection, I never saw his teeth. And come to think of it, his lips were really thin so I have no idea how he managed to hide them. With increasing horror I thought, well maybe that's why he's not keen - he has no teeth!

So, I think the moral of this story is: Always check out a prospective mate's, if you can't see them, they must be hiding something!

BBMing and Whatsapping

Technology is brilliant and fascinating, it's growing at such a rapid rate that I can barely keep track and I'm 27. I still remember getting my first cell phone at school... it was one of those brick Nokias that weighed about 3kgs and you had to pull the arial out. Before that I had a 'beeper' remember those? Now my stepsister tells me everyone plugs their iPhones and Blackberries into charge during class.

So I love the whole BBming and Whatsapp vibe. But I want to know what guys think about it as I am equally tormented yet thrilled at the whole tick with the 'R' for read delivery notes. So I have spent some agonizing hours thinking ok:

'The only reason he is writing back is because he knows that I know he has read the message and he feels he has no choice'.

Or worse, when you can see they have read your message but don't write back.

I actually did this the other day and felt a smug satisfaction at him having seen that I had read the message but not replied. I did this deliberately and he obviously took the hint as not another word has been exchanged since. The twat.

But I think at the end of the day, if a guy likes you, he can do more than BBM/Whatsapp and rather pick up the phone and say 'hi, how would you like to go out?'

If that is too much to ask, he could just send me a hot naked pic of himself -that would suffice.

Teenage angst

Sometimes I quite like to 'hang' with my 16 year old sister. She is funny and opens up my eyes to the world of teenagers again. I was quite convinced that I was like 'in with the crew' but quite frankly the age gap is pretty much the same as the dad in 'Modern Family' who says 'Yo homie what's up' to his daughter's boyfriend.

I often also forget how old my stepsisters are because they have grown up so quickly or slowly for that matter.

So the other day I was like:

'Lisa, why aren't you driving yet?'

Her response: 'Uh because you need to be 18 to drive, like obviously...'

My response: 'So why don't you have your learners?'

Her response: 'Because you need to be 17 to have your learners obviously...'

Ok so this is how I figured out for about the 100th time she is only 16. But the other stepbrat Katie is 18.

I was greatly entertained when Lisa told me how much she liked 'Rammstein' which I hear is a satanic band where they sacrifice cats on stage. She thinks this is hilarious as apparently they only spit burning booze into people's eyes occasionally! So now she wants me to accompany her to rammfest whatever the hell that is. I was going to play the cool older sister and be her '+18' till I heard it was in Midrand...forget it, I don't leave the parks of JHB!

She also told me that most of her grade (in my day it was standards) is clinically depressed and quite literally on anti depressants. To which I was like 'WTF - they are teenagers for god sakes, they are supposed to be morose and depressed and hate their parents and teachers.' Seriously, Doctors and parents are way too indulgent went it comes to prescriptions for horrible little teenagers these days.

Last but not least I gave one of them earnest advice when she was complaining that she had put on weight so I told her to get on with it and 'start sticking her fingers down her throat like the rest of her grade.'

Now that's what I call being a good sister.

I just want to have as high expectations for the steps as Asian Dad has for his kids:

Sometimes I wish

I could tell all the guys from my past:

Too posh to push?

This is what the Brits call having a 'Caesar' which I wholeheartedly agree with.

I like the Brits. I like the fact that they 'try to be classless' but are the most class/society driven nation that I have encountered. I mean, just look at Tatler magazine... It shows you the 'who's who' of British society and advises on what Lords are single and have castles in Scottish hills.

I also love the society pages at the back, especially where they show for example :' Viscountess of ra ra land who had her 18th Birthday party at the Royal Albert Hall where Cirque Du Soleil created a special ensemble especially for her, was wearing Balenciaga couture and Van Cleef and Arpels emeralds.' Those poor, poor poshos. They must live SUCH a tough life!

In my 5 years in London, I frantically searched for a quiet, conservative Lord/Baron/Fortune 500 heir, and I wasn't fussy, I didn't mind the gingers, the freckles, the white potbellies or the slightly squint left eye, unfortunately none of them liked said South African lady for that much time, they preferred to gallop with their own breed: Pale, posh, buck toothed British girls with similar titles who can shoot clay pigeons and reside at the family estate close to Balmoral.

I mean, I think the closest I ever got to a title was bumping uglies with Tony Blair's godson.

Pity I can't even remember his name so I could Facestalk him.

But on the note of Poshos, I had to laugh at my old friend from primary school's email to me about her view on this guy she WAS dating:

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Went out with XXX on Friday but I think i am going to end it with him ebcause although we have fun- we are just way too different.
1) He dislikes posh people- whereas I strive to be a posh person
2) He does not like Fulham / Parsons Green as he thinks it is too snobby- well I believe location location location.
3) He does not believe in Private schooling- whatever!

I just think that we want completely different things out of life- so no point in pushing it.

Love XXX
(Posh and proud to be posh)

GOT to love her for her frankness!

My idol

Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl is the best. She is beautiful, wealthy, impeccably turned out and has the sharpest wit and best quotes. Not to mention Chuck Bass gave her a Harry Winston diamond. Sigh.

My best quotes from her are:

'Once men have tasted caviar, it baffles me how they settle for catfish.'

and another

and let's not forget her gorgeous pout and fabulous alice bands!