Just Another Monday on Sabbatical in Sandton

First of all, thanks to everyone who nominated this blog for the SA Blog Awards 2010. I have been stalking the Awards site to see if On Sabbatical in Sandton has made it through to the next round. I hope the organisers can't trace the hits directly back to me with some clever, techie thingie… But then, those Awards people probably are the clever, techie types, so they probably can trace me and they probably can tell just how desperate I am…

Nonetheless, thanks for your nominations. Unfortunately, I am not tech savvy enough to trace all of you who rudely did not nominate me, but if I were, I would hunt you down and de-friend you on Facebook.

Secondly, a special shout-out has to go to The Mother Figure for her nomination. A dial-up connection, a 40-minute long distance phone-call and a detailed lesson in "right-clicky", "copy" and "pasty" later…and her nomination was cast. May it tip the scales, Ma!

Finally, if there's good news to share on these Awards, I promise to brag about it all over this blog. If not, I will definitely be whining about it all over this blog. Either way – you'll know.

On another note, it sure is good to be back in Jozi. And just in time for what appears to be the start of Spring. I'm presently soaking up the sunshine in the courtyard of Tasha's, getting my Freezocino fix. I'm also trying not to stare at a 50-something year old whose face has been very unjustly attacked by a bottle of self-tan.

I'm not succeeding.

Plus the chocolate-brown and beige hues of her Weapon of Massclusivity (her Louis Vuitton clutch, of course) are reflecting against the orange tones of her face, making her look even more icky-orange than usual.

Ooh, I've just been distracted by my favourite hair-do. The two-tone affair: blonde on top and jet-black on the bottom. Now apparently in Sandton, as well as Delmas. Like the Crocs trend, I confess that I have never quite understood the two-tone trend. What part of looking like a sheep-dog appeals, exactly? Or do these people sit in the hairdresser's chair, going, "Blonde? Black? Blonde? Black? Ah, fag it, I'll just do both."

Enough people-watching for now. I'm off to take The Husband's blazer to the dry cleaners – it was assaulted by a bottle of Jagermeister on Friday night – much to The Husband's surprise the morning after.

Just another Monday on sabbatical in Sandton. Good to be home.

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