...next to Bill Murray, in questionable hotel somewhere in Asia, and he's saying to me: "No one will ever believe you."

It's Saturday and I'm sitting here bored, in my pajamas, listening to the mixed CD I made for my car, waiting for the wind to die down, for me to get hungry enough and for the thought of having baked beans for supper to make me sick enough that I get changed and actually leave the house.

I'm stumbling because I'm lazy and my attention span is proving short. I "stumble" across this:

Fifty People, One Question: Brooklyn from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.

My first answer was my bed since it's become my best friend over the last week or two. My next answer, after a bit of thought, was the title of this post which was brought on by reading the Bill Murray stories on No One Will Ever Believe You.

A part of me wishes (maybe just a little too hard) that at least some of the stories are true. Then there'll at least be a chance, infinitesimally small, that something similarly, awesomely, surreal might happen to me one day. It's not like I want to have his children and my walls aren't plastered with posters of him, but Bill Murray is made of awesomeness and who wouldn't wanted him to whisper those sweet, six words to them? Oh ok, just me then...



PS. If you haven't seen Zombieland, do so.

Be gone winter...and some randomness

I'm not a summer person. I don't like heat. I don't do beaches. I have to squint and don sunglasses if there is even a hit of a sunbeam peeking out from behind some clouds. I sweat just thinking about stepping outside in temperatures above 26 degrees Celsius. I don't like sweating.*

While snuggling in bed with that awesome blankie, a cup of soup and a good book has it merits, I'm getting anxious to do more summery things. To the point where I'm cursing Derek van Dam** when ever he announces yet another incoming cold front.

My upstairs balcony gets great sun and I've decided to acquire a lounge chair, so that I can bake in the sun, sip cocktails*** while taking in the activities in the harbour. While I despise the flip-flip and wouldn't be seen dead in them despite my recent yearnings for summer, these coasters would go perfect for lounging, cocktail sipping.

I also want to work on the garden that I inherited from the previous occupants of my house. It was much of a garden when I moved in but is now worse for wear with all the weeds that have made the garden their home.

And I want lazy picnics in the botanical garden.

But I just know it's going to be a "Be careful what you wish for" situation. Once temperatures hit 32 degrees and I'm incapacited, sitting in a puddle of my own sweat, I will be swallowing my words. But until then I can dream of days lounging on my balcony, sipping cocktails, and nights lazing on the bed with a magazine, a cool breeze gently stirring the curtains (as opposed to keeping all doors and windows shut, suffocating in the heat, for fear of the Cape Doctor unleashing a tornado inside my house).

I've been trying to perfect my WABbing**** lately. The internet is quite useful for this. I've found this great site, Information is Beautiful. Now I can waste 97.6342% of my day looking at utterly useless charts and graphs, like this one comparing movie monsters or this map of drugs.



* I'm adding this to my reasons for not going to the gym.

** Just found his blog. This will be the start of a beautiful stalking friendship.

*** I also need a cocktail shaker. And various cocktail alcohols. Wishlist updated.

**** Work Avoidance Behaviour. I used to be stellar at this at uni but since starting working full-time my skills have degraded.