laurence's blog

Ireland, Cork 8 months
UK, Fleet 1 month
Germany, Munich 8 days
Czech, Brno 5 days
UK, Manchester 3 days
Germany, Dusseldorf 3 days
Holland, Amsterdam 3 days
UAE, Dubai 2 days
Poland, Warsaw 1 day
Ireland, Dublin 1 day
Vilnius, Lithuani 5 hours
Riga, Latvia 5 hours
Estonia, Tallinn 1 hour

I had to get up early (5am) this morning to get to Stanstead so I could wait all day for connecting flight to Dusseldorf. This together with a packed Ryan Air flight, there random polyphonic jingles and the two large Irish girls discussing there sex lives next to me meant I had to make lists in my head instead of going to sleep as I usually do on planes.
I was remotely interested in there conversations, after it started to get saucy I checked them out and it rather took the edge off the imagery.
Normally I would have been more proactive and checked out the people sitting next to me as soon as I sat down or even based my seating on appropriate looking people. As I said it was early and no one is sexy in a ryan air sardine can with all that yellow and blue.

So lists that where bubbling in my head Top 10 for 2008, how on earth will I fit this year into 10 things?

I am totally besotted by Dido and this is her latest single. She sounds so miserable, ow to be able to make her happy. The opening line is something that I would say, can really identify with.

Sitting at work and the Theme song comes on the radio. Time to re-evolute...
Location: Work, not very bohemian..
Action: Working, again I suck (but I was listening to the radio, so not like I am a total robot)
Attire: totally unbohemian Diesal jeans, black shirt and poser shoes..
Company: all work colleagues, totally not bohemian.

So in general I suck at being bohemian this morning.

If your totally confused -> http://www.baldy.za.net/node/613

After a my stream of brilliant flat mates, I was beginning to think that this share accommodation thing was just like every episode of friends.

With the coming of winter I have made certain plans, a key component in these plans being a decent wingman. After all its not a bachelor flat else bachelors live there. So it was with some excitement that a French guy got in contact with me to stay for 6 weeks.

After some basic facebook stalking I found his profile page with a picture of him mountain biking. Our conversations over email also went well with discussion of other such manly bachelor things as Czech beer and the local pubs. He also worked for Apple so would have a large resource of colleagues from the furthest reaches (and best looking) parts of Europe.

So I thought this was a great deal and had visions of our duo of French style and charm together with my South Africanism would devastate the local female population.

This weekend I ended up in a club called "The Baldy Man" in the seaside village of Tramore county Wexford.
As is standard in Ireland at 2 oclock all the lights came on, the place closed and we all hit the street. Just out the door we started chatting to an Irish couple. This started off rather badly as my friend a fellow South African mentioned that ...

Not 48 hours after declaring Bohemian Like You the theme song to my life. Im standing in a bar and it starts to play.
I took this as a time to evaluate if I am living up to my theme song and will continue to do so in the future to track my progress. Based on location, action, attire and company.
This time I think I scored rather well.
I was in a dodgy late night Pub called The Slaide, filled with rockers and girls dress in the Tokyo, Gwen Stefani kind of look, that I do not know the name of. So location wise it was bohemien.
I was drinking Bulmers, an Irish cider and dancing so plus points here.
Attire I did very well as I was wearing my veganfitness.net t-shirt and my Ska slip on check Vans.
My company for the evening included an Irish man, a Belgium girl (very sweet) and a fellow Saffer.

I got a tip off from a member of the Cape Town Lancia Club that my car was being discussed on the cartoday forums. Cartoday.co.za being the website of car magazine, I would think the biggest car magazine in South Africa.
Someone took pictures at the recent car show that my car was displayed at and a few people passed some comment. Including a disgruntled Delta Intergrale owner who is struggling to sell his for R60k.
Check out the link here -> http://www.cartoday.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=2;t=049491;p=1

Me: Evening officer.
Officer (shining torch into my eyes): How are you guys doing tonight?
Me: Baie Lekker and self?
Officer: Where are you coming from?
Leon: The beachfront
This was not the smoothest answer and with our general stumbling and slurrying the nice police officers did not need to get the detectives in to work out if we had been drinking.
Leon had started a brief but animated conversation with George, which is generally a good indication that the night had past its peak and we should head home. My car now has a new trick of not wanting to go home, I go out and it refuses to start (the problem started after a swimming incident), to get her to start I need to hot wire it, which is intresting to do when you have a car gaurd behind you asking you for money. So after all this and leon stripping the interior of my car looking for his keys we are on our way.

I think my subconceince maybe starting to worry about my up coming trip, or it could be sleeping in a differant bed. Last night I had a really weird dream, I was in some weird airport in europe about to board the plane. So I whip out my passport, and all I have is my little green ID. My mind races back and I realise that I only have my ID and forgot to bring my passports. Not a very long and deep dream I know but its pretty random and out of the blue.
The cell separation saga is kind of over for know, they called me this morning and I was able to chat to the nurse. Maybe my mind is twisted from too many Doctor and Nurses party, but it seems pretty weird and non sexy discussing my sex life with a nurse. Specially knowing she has a folder in front of her with a list of my sexual encounters charted out in a series of 6 month breaks.
She put my mind at rest though so I have come to peace with the situation.

Facebook really sucks, I tried to ignore it for as long as possible. Pesky emails arriving asking me to confirm friends, the catch being you have to register as a member first. This is a pain in the arse, and you cant use your MSN Passport, gmail or Drupal login.
Eventually I cracked when C made mention of comments posted in her facebook, about one of my sushi making pictures. Vanity provailed and within 5 minutes I was attempting to register. An hour later I was registered and had 1 friends, great I thought this is a little too much like real life.
So then I start adding friends and then you wait for them to confirm you are really there friend. After a little while of doing this you can sit back and bask in the glory of your ego, at the amount of friends you have. Other than that Im not sure what the point is. Other than an ex girlfriend might pop up somewhere.

Ok Cell seperation just called, this marks 6 months from my last official nose bleed. This raises important issues for me, and I am not sure if I am ready to think about them at the moment.
For those of you know dont know what Im going on about, Ill fill you in on the details (briefly).
I am a wimp and so to get over my fear of needles I started donating blood. This seemed to work, I fainted the first time but since then no problems.

Im feeling miserable, so please indulge my melancholy, not to be taken as apathy. Apathy being a killer and melancholy being my realists view of life in general.
The long weekend (6 days loams ahead) and the most exciting thing I can think of doing is to rebuild a 20 year old engine that has been siezed for the last 5 years. This is not that bad as it is a super charged engine designed by the same guy that designed the Ferrari V8 dino engine. Enough mental masterbation, for now.
Weekend was pretty predictable, which is probably the worste thing it could be. I was kind of tempted to go out clubbing on friday. Then thought better of it, wanting to save myself for the meat market of tiger tiger on Saturday night. This was not meant to be though, and so we ended up at another mellow night sitting around getting drunk.