Archive for September, 2007

… stranger.

Posted in Confession, Lyrics - Hilary Duff with tags on September 27, 2007 by moderngatsby

Nobody believes me when I tell them that you’re out of your mind. Nobody believes me when I tell them that there’s so much to hide. You treat me like a queen when we go out. Wanna show everyone what our loves about. All wrapped up in me whenever there is a crowd. But when no ones around … There’s no kindness in your eyes. The way you look at me it’s just not right. And I can tell what’s going on this time. There’s a stranger in my life. You’re not the person that I once knew. Are you scared to let them know it’s you? If they could only see you like I do. Then they would see a stranger too. Did I ever do anything that was this cruel to you? Did I ever make you wonder who was standing in the room? You made yourself look perfect in every way. So when this goes down I’m the one who will be blamed. Your plan is working so you can just walk away. Baby your secrets safe. There’s no kindness in your eyes. The way you look at me it’s just not right. And I can tell what’s going on this time. There’s a stranger in my life. You’re not the person that I once knew. Are you scared to let them know it’s you? If they could only see you like I do. Then they would see a stranger too. Such a long way back, from this place that we were at. When I think of all the time I’ve wasted I could cry. There’s no kindness in your eyes. The way you look at me it’s just not right. And I can tell what’s going on this time. There’s a stranger in my life. You’re not the person that I once knew. Are you scared to let them know it’s you? If they could only see you like I do. Then they would see a stranger too.


… this needs to be baked at 180C for 32-mins.

Posted in Confession on September 21, 2007 by moderngatsby

It was just past the midnight hour when the feint rumblings of a hungry stomach interrupted my finishing an engrossing anthology of poetry. And In the half-shadows I stumbled as quietly as possible, so not to wake up the dogs, to the kitchen and the slice of Parmigiano-Reggiano, some garlic/rosemary olive oil and a tray of organic eggs in my fridge that left me with a realisation that nothing other than a very lopsided omelette was on the cards.

Nothing is more depressing than the idea that you need to go to the grocery store to get some food – and you’re not sure what you really feel like eating. I hate shopping with hundreds of housewives that have less courtesy than grid-lock drivers on the William Nicol. None the less I found myself daring mid-week grocery-cart gridlock with the glacial pensioners and kamikaze housewives scrambling for produce and ingredients.

My first mistake was thinking that today would be any different to any other time that I was here. Being a Friday morning I imagined it to be virtually empty but on arrival found it was a hive of bustling activity that would leave any sane person with a serious case of agoraphobia. But, with multi-coloured shopping bags in hand, I plunged into the undulating mob to fulfil my mission of systematically ticking off the shopping list and getting out alive.

My second mistake of the day was coming to a recently re-opened mega-store with specials and unfamiliar goods. As housewives ambled through the aisles trying to decipher not only the total net weight of goods versus price but factoring the grams of fat per serving they abandoned their already overstocked trolleys blocking anyone moving up or downstream. Admittedly my levels of patience are something I’m working on.

Used to getting in, gathering what I need, and heading for the pay point in record time moving at this pace fuelled my frustration. That plus the fact that ever so often intermittent cell-phone reception resulted in a flood of missed calls from the office – all marked urgent – but un-returnable without Cirque du Soleil-esq acrobatics to get a decent signal and then having to shout over the buzzing Shul of Martha Stewart wannabes.

But having survived the experience I can confidently say that I will be back next week, for a new list of ingredients and trauma. The difference is next week the play list of my iPod, a better knowledge of produce layout, and a new time will be my change in strategy. After all if in managing to over coming shopping at peak-hour traffic how difficult can far behind can managing a relationship be?



Posted in Passion, Tom Ford on September 19, 2007 by moderngatsby



Posted in Passion, Tom Ford on September 19, 2007 by moderngatsby


… touch it, bring it, pay it, watch it, turn it, leave it, stop, format it.

Posted in adventure sports, coccooning on September 18, 2007 by moderngatsby

Trust me,” he says, “we are just as lazy as somebody else.” Words of a salesman that ricochet around my brain as the courier van reversed out of the gate, leaving me with my new Principia Rex bike and a feeling akin to buyers-remorse to boot. I had bought it about 2mnths ago when my bank-balance was a lot higher than my resolve to cycle my way back into some kind of fitness. I figured it was easier that hitting the pavements and running slowly.It couldn’t have come at a worse time. A roller coaster week that has you working to the bone one day and sitting with nothing to do the next, I have found comfort in Earl grey tea and eating. There were whole four-season pizzas, upsized burger meals and endless cheese/rocket- salad sandwiches that took the edge off the stress. That and endless reruns of The Godfather Trilogy of movies. Oh and the House of Cards trilogy too.

So, after an impromptu breakfast with my parents at my Mom’s favourite new shopping centre I called up a friend to take him up on his offer of joining him on his outride that afternoon. I put the bike into the back of the Land Rover, un-wrapped the riding helmet, searched for my protective glasses used for polo and headed out to his townhouse on his partially developed golfing estate. Since I was passing my favourite barista, I had to stop in but instead of my usual latte I got the frozen version instead. Less calories and fat I’m told.

I arrived at his place, my first time there, and marvelled at his view of a recently converted wasteland into a very attractive golfing estate on the East Rand with its own boating club to boot. We headed out towards the agri-holdings and the rough and tough terrain. I could taste it on my tongue, well the grit anyway after my first tumble, and it had a taste of me with an oozing knee scrap. The first 5mins were the toughest and the remaining 55mins akin to torture. But as Busta Rhymes sang on my iPod, “… touch it.”

At the end of it, despite the bitching and moaning, I know that tomorrow I will be sore but sated. This is the first step towards something that I need desperately. A kind of physical discipline needed for achieving my newly set goal of triathlon. Not that I imagine myself being an Iron-Man but at least it gets me out of staying in bed for whole weekends at a time doing nothing but watching reruns and overeating. 

… axe makes women crazy, tom ford delivers snatch.

Posted in Passion, Tom Ford on September 18, 2007 by moderngatsby

When selling men’s fragrance, most marketers rely on artist but meaningless photography of alluring situations meant to capture what they believe to be some ethereal state of being obtained only by using the marketer’s fragrance. But not Tom Ford. Ford removes all pretense in his latest fragrance campaign and celebrates what every man wants: to fuck. In this ad, Ford less than deftly places the product in the place all men hope the it will get them: snatch. Crass? Certainly. Objectifying of women? Sure. Attention getting? Most definitely. Of the campaign, a Tom Ford Beauty Spokeswoman told Women’s Wear Daily, “We loved the original Marilyn Minter images, but while on a shoot with [Richardson] in Milan, we decided that a sharper, more graphic approach clearly communicated the bold and provocative mood of the fragrance.” Sharper and more graphic, indeed.

… soul mates.

Posted in My Great Love, Self-Truth on September 18, 2007 by moderngatsby

As I lay there on a particularly lazy Sunday afternoon, a pungent undertone of jasmine on a springtime breeze, I was reminded of a conversation that lay dormant in the memory of my past. To be fair it had become dislodged a few days before as I stood waiting for my take-away coffee and overheard a rather pedantic young women sitting with her jewellery designer. It was her childhood fantasy come true and who could fault her right to fulfil her demanding heart’s one true desire. After all she had snagged the investment banker so could the perfect engagement ring be that far behind?

In the dying light filled my room with a soft rose hue, I looked over towards my writing desk at the picture in the antique studded leather frame. While the details are clouded a decade ago, a certain young women and less certain young man promised that if they both reached a particular age and neither were married we’d marry each other. While it was a laugh then, every now and again my thoughts ran to that summer afternoon. And so, since I’d already reached that particular age, I started giving a lot of thought about buying that milestone ring.

For two days afterwards I caught myself slowing down as I walked from my favourite barista and looking at the various engagement rings in the various jewellery stores. I even went online and looked at the catalogue of the jeweller who crafted my Mother’s engagement ring to my Father’s hand-drawn design. And it was then, in the moment I decided to call her up and find out if this was one of those moments of living in the past. After a few minutes of transcontinental conversation I asked what her dream ring would look like.

It was strange because she knew exactly where this was going before I even mentioned it. That’s the thing between us – we always know where the other person is no matter where we are – and it’s always been like that. I sometimes wonder what my life would be without her. The more I think about it the more I realise that she has been the only person that I have truly loved and could never imagine life without her.

So as I sit and think about what I want for the future I have to admit the more I think about it the more I want it. Serious thought is going into proposing to her once my life has stabilised again. Assuming she’ll have me of course … I realise that there would have to be some life changing decisions made but at the end of it all they would be worth it because I would be gaining so much more. More than just my best friend … my soul mate.