After I posted the image below of the MTN Jazz Festival poster, it reminded me about all those Jazz Posters my dad used to have hanging up in his office while we were growing up. Well no, that's a lie. It didn't. But that's only because it looks nothing like one of those jazz posters I remember from my youth.
Jupiter Drawing Room really could have done a better job on this poster, me thinks. There’s so much colour and life and vibrancy in Jazz and this should definitely be portrayed in their promotional artwork?! I understand having to keep with the yellow corporate MTN colour palette – but there was definitely a missed opportunity here. (Listen to me sounding all ad-guru-like. Ha, why the heck not!)
So maybe you’ll pop on down to Hazelmere Dam this Boxing Day for the 6th annual Jazz Festival hosted by MTN?
It’s gonna be cool, it’s gonna be groovy … and it’s gonna be full of really cool, groovy musicians and music lovers alike.
I’m so wishing I was going to it. There’ll be plenty of Afro Jazz, Afro Pop and Smooth Jazz. And there’s just something about jazz that makes you come alive. It’s a genre of music that doesn’t need words to speak to your soul. It moves your entire body and is such a powerful force - in a happy, hallelujah praise the inventors of the cello kinda way.
What a nice way to wind down after the mad rush of Christmas, while still keeping yourself festive for the New Year Bash on the near horizon.
We’re always so quick to let people know about the bad experiences we’ve had with our favourite or not-so-favourite brands. Like the time those nasty ladies at the Pavilion Baby City almost had me in tears they were so poofey. I ended up running out of there hoping I never have kids and never need their help again.
Or the time I ordered about the tomatoe pasta (read: a bowl of plain penne pasta with 1 tomatoe cut into quarters and placed around the edge of the bowl) at Primi Piatti and when I enquired as to where the rest of my dinner was the manager swifty told me that if I didn’t like my bland, falsely advertisind meal, I could leave.
But hey .. everyone makes mistakes. Like the guys from Waterfall Butchery. When mom-dog hired a lamb on the spit for the 21st we were all very excited for our pending feast. That was, until little bambi refused to turn. Eventually the guys got her working after a very stressful 3 hours and 18 enquiry calls to Debonairs for mass pizza deliveriess. The next day, however, when the butchery guys found out about their faulty product, they reimbursed mumsie the full price and offered her free use of the spit, or another fully functionig one, any time she wants!
And today, when I wanted to make sure my flight on Friday to Cape Town is in fact actually destined for Cape Town this Friday at 6, I went online to try find out - only to discover my flight reference belongs to an expired, unpaid for booking. Just marvellous.
I could have sworn I paid for a flight. But then again, I wore the exact same thing to work today that I wore to work on Friday … so my memory is not really one to be trusted at the moment.
Now in a frenzy to try find the right reference number or at least a flight that wont cost me a million gazillion last minute dollars, I tried to call Kulula. BIG, BIG mistake. If you’ve never tried calling the Kulula Help-Line … don’t start now. You, like me, will sit on the phone for 46 minutes listening to the very tired Trevor Noah trying to be funny about how why a very concerned operator is taking their sweet ass time to answer my “very important, highly valuebale phone call”.
Then I tired the next best thing. I emailed them. Knowing full well that if I did ever get a repy it would be next week Thursday, in which case I’d already have missed my non-existent flight and it wouldn’t matter much anyways …. I thought maybe, just maybe there was a hope.
And by jove, there was! I’m not kidding when I say lthat ess than 8 minutes and 36 seconds later I got a direct email reponse from a lovely lady named Karen who promised to sort out my problem. And sort it out … exaclty 2 minutes and 8 seconds later … she did. My flight is re-booked and paid for (so I’m not such a klutz) and everything is in order.
I’m so very proud of Kulula for their speedy, friendly, and totally surprising service that I received today. I’m super chuffed and thought I’d just put all the good karma chuffedness out their in the world!
So with the end of the year upon us and the Fee-arn-say and I off on yet another snow-and-gluvine filled winter holiday (Can I get a whoop whoop) I find myself wondering what it would be like to spend 14 days lying on a beach instead of tumbling down the slopes like a giant, retarded snow flake. While I’m giddy with excitement at the thought of our trip in 7 sleeps time … I started to wonder about our Honeymoon, and the thought of sipping cocktails while frolicking in the waves, naked, has become a very appealing one. And then I found this place.
The ultimate in laid-back luxury, this intimate gathering of houses is poised on the cliff high above the Aegean, on the little island of Santorini in Greece. Initially designed as a private residence, it was built by native craftsmen using local materials – which explains the naturalness of the place: the organic forms and smooth textures have a way of making you feel like you’re on a magical island holiday … which, if you’re lucky enough, you are!
By the looks of things, there are no TVs or Playstaion Consoles or Gyms to distract you. Just you, the beauty of limitless space and the most exquisite views I’ve ever seen. Listen to me sounding like I’ve actually been there. SIGH.
I love the subtle use of colour on the inside and the breezy, open style rooms the just kind of channel into one another. I can imagine the place to make you feel like you’re constantly floating away on a cloud, with the curvature of the walls, the vault-like ceilings pierced with skylights, and the never-ending horizon view from every room.
Beds and benches are built into snug little nooks and crannies, archways appear from white washed walls, hand woven cushions and rugs lie scattered across the varied surfaces … it really is the epitome of low-key glamour.
And I want to go there!
Tell me this place doesn’t make you drool, and I’ll tell you that you’re saliva glands are broken!
But you can’t blame me … It’s the first time, EVER, that I’ve ordered something online. And then when I went to fetch it from the world’s dodgiest post office in Red Hill (no I had no idea where that was either) and it had all these American stamps and things on it, I must admit, I got very excited. Similar, I would imagine, to the way our great grannies used to get excited when they received letters from the mailman sent from their faraway pen pals or long lost boyfriends at war. Very girlie, I know. But bare with me will ya!
I can’t show you everything that came with the package because it’s meant to be a secret. But given the fact that I couldn’t even wait until I got home to open it and show you, means that you’ll probably hear more about it sooner than later. So for now, let’s just say that I’m going to have a rather wonderfully creative wedding day!
Sorry about the icky photo quality, but look how beautifully it was packaged. Old doilies and vintage ribbon.
The lady I bought it from (via the world wide web … ooh how terribly technologically advanced of me) even took the time out to include a hand written note and some extra goodies. I'm loving it ALL.
They say it's as good as a holiday. So I thought I’d try it.
I removed the polka dots from the background and replaced it with some super fancy twirls and swirls. I even changed the colour. I mean … if that’s not super adventurously daring, I don’t know what is.
So now sitting outside the box of my comfort zone, I’m thinking to myself: “Actually … change is not nice.”
While it’s meant to make us feel new, fresh and up for different challenges, it also makes you feel traitorous. Like you can’t hold down one single idea without changing your mind for something better / bigger / fancier / more expensive / more bloggerish … you know what I mean?! Nothing is ever good enough. You’re never satisfied with what you have. You’re constantly changing … but the problem is that more often than not you’re doing all the changing for other people.
All this change stuff is happening for the wrong reasons. And unless you’re planning on changing the world, I don’t want to hear about it. And don’t you even dare, not for one split second, even half consider changing who you are. Never, ever change!