Sunday, 18 July 2010

Twitter & Twisted

( Twitter or May The Blue Bird of Happinesss... yadda yadda yadda...)

I know that sometime, somehow, I am going to drag my sorry ass back to William-The Conquerer for a Pilates class. My friend Mari-Louis, who I thought liked me, sent me a text message a while ago. 'I am sponsoring your first session with torturer Thursday. Expect the worst.' it read. followed by another one, 'Hee hee voel soos bitch in soapy. Hy gaan jou opfok.' Charming. But how bad could it be? Other friends do pilates and tell me how relaxing it is, all that stretching and deep breathing... So I went. And then I spent the entire weekend with a hot water bottle clutched to my stomach. My mother suspected an ectopic pregnancy. I feared the worse and complained so much that Jacques suggested I go for a scan to rule out any medical abnormalities. When all it really was, because 3 days later the pain was gone, was that I had exercised my stomach muscles, which in itself was a medical marvel because I didn't now I had any.
Anyway, last weekend I met up with Heather Parker at Majeka House in Stellenbosch (ex Cosmo and Shape editor, and now editor of Health 24) and she was looking fabulous, svelte, radiant and very loved up. It transpires that not only had she recently celebrated a milestone birthday, but she had also completed the Argus Cycle Tour this year. And while in the past I may have been slightly intimidated by her, ( my issues, not hers) I am now inspired by her. And even thoughI have no wish to cycle around the block, never mind, Ou Kaapse Weg, she makes fitness and having a healthy, happy body seem within my reach. So logging on to her blog, for further inspiration this afternoon, I instead found her directing me to something wonderful on Twitter. Now, I don't Tweet, and while I may have caught onto all the Twittering, I gave my Blackberry to Jacques after only one day, as it was just way too complicated for a technophobe like me. But if you google a Twit's name and the word Twitter, you will be able to read the Tweets that normally come via the fancier phones on your computer...(does any of this make sense?)

I am now totally hooked, thanks to Heather, on a man ( who I suspect is also a foodie) named Arjun Basu who writes the most beautiful 140 character short stories.

On 16th July he tweeted the following story:

He took her to a restaurant where the waiters worked naked and the chef specialized in artisanal sausages. I'm not eating dessert, she said

Other offerings were:

And then everything fell apart. His dreams lost. The echo of her final, angry word lingered in the room. But she knew he hated green pepper

and

She heard him fumble with the keys at the front door and she sat on the kitchen counter as he entered. She smiled. Dinner's ready, she said

and

She was the prettiest woman he'd been with. And the date was going well. Until she put ketchup on her hot dog. Then he couldn't look at her

So today I embrace inspiration. Perspiration ( and pilates) can wait for another day....

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