Month: August 2008

Gym


I blogged a few days ago about this show that I’m in – called Disco Inferno. Now in one of the scenes they decide that my character is not stylish enough (my character is clearly nothing like me) so they do a mini makeover. Now the thing is, I have to be stripped down to my underpants (I plan on wearing boxers) and I’m not so sure I’m all that happy with being paraded half-naked on stage. You see, I used to be a bigger boy, but after numerous body for life attempts I do feel a bit better about myself. But I still look in the mirror and see the fat boy…

To add to my distress, I’m very aware of how people like talking about anyone who gets undressed on stage. I studied to be an actor and one of our favourite things to do was to rip the play we’d just seen to shreds, and comment on all the half nude (nude if we were really lucky) people. The last time I took my shirt off on stage, I got a call from my agent (who had seen the show the night before) to ask if I could make a casting. It was for a guy who clearly had never set foot in a gym and was now attempting to do so. That was the feel good call of the year I tell ya!

To get to my point, last night I decided to up my gym game. Frank is an avid gymer, has the right definition in all the right places, and offered to give me a few pointers in the gym on how I could build a bit quicker… I felt like one of Snow White’s fat hairy dwarf’s alongside him, but I went nonetheless…

The best way to explain the torture I went through is to give you this example. I do lift weights in my normal gym routine, just not heavy ones. Last night, I started doing dumbbell flies on 15 kg in each hand… I normally do dumbbell flies and the weight I work myself up to is 10 kilo’s… so I was starting in totally unknown and much heavier territory. Surprisingly I managed to get them to do what I wanted. But I did the ugly face…

Today I can’t lift my arms. This blog has taken almost an hour to write. I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet because I can’t carry it to my desk or get it to reach my lips. I’m thinking its fine to be fat on stage.

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power to the people


Last night I arrived home, feeling like death. That’s the thing about a cold – you feel awful but its not as extreme as flu (in terms of symptoms) and you’re expected to still have your normal shimmering demeanour (is that just me?) while snot is dribbling onto your lip, your head is pounding and your throat feels like someone is grating the sides of it. Only when the body pain kicks in can you call it flu and then warrant sympathy. The truth is – I’m a real boy when I get sick. I expect your undivided attention, the appropriate amount of sympathy and medication provided as soon as I feel the need. Some call it demanding…

So, as I was saying, I arrived home last night to a completely dark house. The power was out and wasn’t due to load shedding. I still have no idea why it was out – probably some power station needed a bolt removed from its working parts or someone decided that the metal cables were far better suited in their shopping trolley. At 6pm I was fine about it. By 8pm I was irritated. I have two miniature dachshunds (I’ll post pics sometime) and they hate being home alone – especially in the dark. So I didn’t want to go out and leave them to fend for themselves. I rummaged the fridge – luckily I have a torch (such a domesticated guy) – and found some yoghurt and an open bottle of wine. So that was supper… yoghurt and wine are not a great combination. It feels like the wine makes the yoghurt curdle in your tummy… after a glass or two of the wine, the sensation magically disappeared though.

By 9pm I was livid. What was there to do? I couldn’t read… My laptop battery was dead (must charge all the time)… the dogs were asleep and are so small that I couldn’t see them in the dark anyway… so, I did the only thing I could – went to sleep…

I’m not sure when last I was in bed by 9 on a Friday night – clearly a sign that I’m getting old.

In hindsight I realise it was a fantastic idea. You see, the power decided to return at 3:30 this morning. Now, in my frustration I had turned on every light and appliance in the house to check if somehow that would make the power return. And foolishly, I hadn’t switched them off… The wine and yoghurt combination are to blame. So at 3:30 the TV switched on, the blender erupted, the hi-fi started playing the beats, every light in the house switched on, the dogs barked in terror and I woke up thinking that the second coming was finally here and I was now going to see if the book “Left Behind” was as inspired as I thought it was.

I’ve been up since 3:30… my heart is still returning to a normal pace. And I’m pretty exhausted now. So, the power off was frustrating, and the power returning was terrifying. Story of my life really – still need to find middle ground!

Have a good weekend!

Fancy a bath?


I’m not feeling as inspired as yesterday. One can only have a Vespa moment a few times in one’s life! I think Oprah might steal that term – Vespa moment. Its far snappier than aha! moment and doesn’t have a silly exclamation mark in the middle so your spell check won’t force a capital on you. I think it may take off. So feel free to use it…

I spent the morning in the newly refurbished Rosebank Hotel. They spent R254 million making the hotel look good… and it does look good. The one thing I adored, and had never seen before, was the bath menu. I’m not a keen fan of bathing. If forced to bath I will still try find a shower to rinse off afterwards. The fact that I have to clean the ring off the sides of the bath is proof that I’m no cleaner than I started. I know its about relaxing – but I have my bed or the sofa for that…

That all said, thanks to the menu I could be dissuaded of my militant anti-bath stand, and indulge in a good soaking. You see for a mere R60 (a steal I tell ya) you can phone the people down below (I never know what they’re called – I just refer to them as the help) and order a bath. Yes, you can order a bath.. well, not the structure, but what you want in the bath. In fact, if you’re out for the day you can phone ahead and say you’ll be back at whatever time and they will have the pre-ordered bath ready for you on arrival..

You can choose from various options. The bath I saw looked like a scene from a Danielle Steele novel. I confess I have read a Danielle Steele novel before – purely for research purposes. Aaaanyway… there were rose petals everywhere, candles lit, and aromatherapy sticks smoking away gently, sending a scent sensation into the room. Its not the biggest bath but looked really inviting. I thought of hopping right in, clothes and all… but I’m wearing Diesel jeans.

The clincher was the apple and mint martini perched on the side of the bath… they really know how to close a deal those hotel types.

So now I plan to have a bath… I won’t draw one… I’ll order one… even if its just for the martini….

On the road


I’ve been editing a magazine for about four months and having a great time. The biggest perk about the job is the free stuff. Yes I said it! So many people say its the creative outlet, but me? I’m a sucker for a fabulous goodie bag. I have received air freshener, cologne, wine, champagne, chocolates, cd’s, flash drives, books, cupcakes, facial products and free meals all in the hope that a mention is made in the magazine.

Sometimes you get the jackpot – an invitation to somewhere fabulous or to do something totally different. This weekend I spent a night at the Westcliff – Joburg’s 5-star colonial lap of luxury – and woke up to a champagne breakfast (it really was champagne – Moet!). Other great experiences have included a helicopter ride along the Natal coast and through the Oribi Gorge and an ocean safari where the few of us in the speedboat got to bob along with dolphins.

Who would have thought that today’s invite would have proved to be the most fun of them all… today I got to ride… wait for it… a vespa!

An advertising agency invited me to meet the MD of Vespa which sounded rather banal and harmless. I was then informed that I would be chauffeur-driven to the showroom in Fourways. That sounded a bit more interesting. So I agreed and arrived this morning ready to be whipped off in luxury up north. I should have suspected all was not as I had thought when I got a call asking if I would need a warm jacket. Perhaps the aircon wasn’t working in the limousine? Nevertheless, I was still ready to sit back with a glass of bubbly and enjoy the journey to the northern suburbs.

The doorbell rang and I sauntered out in my usual editor-in-control fashion and greeted my driver. Or should I say rider? There in the front of my me was my two wheel limousine and helmet.

Now I should tell you the two things that entered my mind. The first was “Oh my gosh, I’m going to have helmet hair” which is a vicious condition caused by placing a tight fitting helmet onto your freshly coiffed do (all ready for the back of a LIMOUSINE). And the second was a memory of me on the back of a vespa with a friend in Cape Town. It was a fairly short ride. I was so scared that I couldn’t hold onto the back bars and clutched him as if my life depended on it. He was so embarrassed that I was never invited back onto the vehicle of mass fear and I was mortified at the end of my minute long trip of death.

So here I was standing in front of a complete stranger, and was expected to keep my cool as I stepped back onto the terror-moped-from-hell. You see a vespa is tiny. When you turn, you feel as if you’re about to fall off or scrape your limousine-chosen pants on the dirty Joburg tar. And you’re so exposed. People can see your wide open mouth yelling foul language as you scream along in panic.

I just had to swallow my pride and hope that I somehow managed to keep my cool. He explained that I needed to hold onto the handle bars and just take his lead. I felt like a contestant on Fear Factor – trying to look like I was fine for the sake of the TV camera’s, while I was screaming internally.

As he started the bike I decided to begin breathing and enjoy the ride. There was no way out and I had to somehow maintain my cool. And surprisingly – I did. After a while I felt my hands loosen around the handlebars (they were so tight I had no circulation, so it was a necessary move if I was to retain their mobility) and felt my legs relax. It was then that I started taking in just exactly what I was doing. I was zipping past every other vehicle stuck in the same old William Nicol traffic, beating the taxi’s at their own game and actually having a really good time. The trip to Fourways took half the time it normally would have and by the time I arrived at the showroom I was the picture of editor-in-control. I confess, I was a tad on the chilly side, my nose did feel like it had been placed in the freezer for a while, and my hands were finding it difficult to hold the coffee cup, but after a quick thaw out I was ready for more.

I even went on the Vespa by myself.

Next, I’m dipping myself in blood and swimming with sharks… I can do anything!

disco inferno


As mentioned before, I’m pretty addicted to facebook and this morning I got an invite to a show that I’m acting in. Needless to say it scared me to death. People are starting to buy tickets and I’m still trying to get my words down. I ran through them with Frank last night and realised I still have a bit of a way to go, so best I get cracking.

That all said – I’m having a blast. Its turned out to be a great experience (although the cast issues sometimes make me want to run to the hills). I play the lead in the musical – the character’s name is Jack. Its basically a 70’s version of Faust… Jack sells his soul to the devil (well to his minion, Lady Marmalade, in usual minion-dominatrix gear) and in return he is promised fame, popularity and wealth. At what expense though. Its frivolous fun… and the music is great. I have a renewed love for the music of the decade – pretty contagious actually.

We go on stage on 17 September so I’ll post a photo or two as we go…

On a different note, today I have to go interview an executive chef and I’m so not in the mood… I hate doing forced interviews and feel totally under-prepared (I think thats a theme in my life), so best I get off this and onto work…

Just got back from the interview and it was hell… Got one word answers to every question. PR agencies should really brief the interviewees.

Sigh

First post

I’ve been threatening to blog for a while, so thought I’d take the leap and start off today. I was inspired by a friends blog – made for enthralling reading so thought it was time to jump right in. Until now, I’ve been a bit of a facebook addict, so hopefully this will prove a little more stimulating than a status update or two… and a place where I can put down a thought or two for others to comment on.

I’ve been back in Joburg for just over a year now and its probably been the most difficult change of my life – and the most rewarding. Cape Town, where I spent the last ten years of my life, was an essential part of my life’s journey and returning to Joburg really did bring things full circle. I have an amazing job, a great circle of friends, a relationship with a significant person I’m really enjoying – and finding to be quite healing – and an awesome family. I do believe I’m where I’m meant to be, so will keep having fun as I go…

On another note, it looks like an article I wrote is going to be published this week on a South African internet portal. I’ll keep you posted about that…

Ok, my first blog is done. I’ll try be disciplined in sticking to it… and hopefully some of you will find it vaguely interesting…