You know it's going to be one of THOSE nights when you start with a PRE-MATCH.

So Friday night was one of those nights. A group of friends (basically 5 guys and another shemale friend that lives and shares my awkward life) and myself felt that a good night out was indeed needed after the stress of these last weeks and made the necessary mission to a club that goes by the magical name of Fez. As was required for these FEZtivies (I know, HOW original), This small and intimate group of mis-matched individuals decided to pre-match.

**For those of you reading that do NOT know what a Pre-match is (oh for shame. SHAME ON YOU), it is when a group of socially awkward individuals (like myself) meet up with other individuals, namely those that are socially acceptable and drink copious amounts of cheap alcohol before making said mission to chosen destination for a night of magical, raucous, drunken activites.**

As is expected, with the arrival of two unexpected shemales into this male dominated group of neanderthals, the "situation" was awkward to start. Both shemales stood around, pouring more drinks than was necessary for 7:30 p.m. and trying (failing) to engage in conversaton with these primitive beasts. After the liqour began to pour freely, the conversation went from mere grunts and groans to actual speeches. Although predominantly based around sex and taunting of both said shemales (it's best if you don't ask) there was conversation, a blessing if you will.

Now, these situations aren't NORMALLY terrible and CAN be fixed, but, of course in my life, this is NOT allowed. For starters, my ex was at said pre-match. Now, this would not be a problem, if said ex and I were allowed to be bygons. Which we're not. Thanks to the new shemale in his life that feels that "there is something naughty naughty kinky kinky" going on there. Which, yet again, we're not. 
After a brief stint of awkward waves and smiles, the alcohol eased the mood and allowed for conversation to flow freely between ALL said individuals, the previously primitive male dominance dissappearing with there mental social filters. The night continued with drunken actions and slurred words, unstable actions and cross-eyed glances.

Said group missioned to the said FEZ but grew tiresome and bored of this event and left soon after. A small group of individuals, (namely myself, my brother (20, for those asking, ladies), two male companions and (you guessed it) my ex) made the inevitable mission to the OH SO famous, McDonalds. We parked (I parked) the four wheeled transporter and decided to WALK into McDonalds and make a proper sit down meal. Now as is expected for two in the morning, one was only allowed to DRIVE through McDonalds, our sit-down meal plan was DESTROYED. Too lazy to once again, drive AROUND to the drive-through section, my ex and myself ambled (I ambled, he drunkenly stumbled) over to the take-out section. The idotic restaurant has a new service that asks you to order via an electric window thing, once the weight of your car has been felt. We did not have a car on us at that precise moment. We tried in vain to get the electric box's attention, running at full speed over assumed weight line, jumping at thye same time, skipping over, stomping, smacking, screaming at the box in anguish and shaking it in anger.

After a said period of time, a man on a bicycle came past and offered to ride over the weight line for us. Why a man was on a bicycle at two in the morning still causes me to raise eyebrow and cock my head (to the left, I don't like the right). We ordered our meals and made our way BACK to the car, where the other drunkards were STILL sitting, unaware that we had in fact, stopped, eaten, left the car and gotten back in. When these primitive beasts caught a wiff of the glorious processed meal, they demanded their own sevicings and we had to drive (they were too gone to stumble) back to the take-out line.

Whilst waiting for the buffons to decide what they wanted, two of said drunken fools, my brother and a companion thta goes by the name of James, decided it would be fun to wrestle/kick-box/karate kick/fight outside McDonalds at two in the morning. So for a laugh, we let them do it (whilst recording it and placing a random order, using their money and eating their food). When they had calmed down, and gotten back into said vehicle, we started driving again. As I reached a circle, the same two fools jumped out and began wrestling again. I drove on with the other two male indiviudals in the back of the vehicle. The two drunkards, realizing that the vehicle was no longer at the circle, chased the car to the robots, where I patiently waited... before driving a little and making them run a little more. As they decided to get back in, three cars appeared (yes at two in the morning) whilst I was pulled over in the middle of the road. THEN (yes it was coming) I saw blue lights. OF COURSE there would be a traffic officer at TWO in the morning at the EXACT moment that I pulled over IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. I feebly apologised to this abnormally large woman on a very small motorbike for the drunken tomfoolery and departed quickly.

My night, although not seeming so, was awkward yet fun. Another night lived with those inescapable moments of embarrassment.

Love those beach moments.

I haven't posted a blog in quite a while so I promise to make this one good because, of course karma doesn't think I deserve a day off and STILL haunts me with awkward moments everyday.

Today was a beautiful day in Cape Town so I thought, why not make the most of it and hit the beach, what's the worst that could happen? I piled up all my necessary beachy equipment (in other words, my cellphone, my iPod, my towel and book) into the car, grabbed my baby brother (Yes, I was babysitter for the day) fetched my grandmother (well you didn't think I would do it ALONE did you??) and made a mission to one of Cape Town's many beautiful beaches. Upon our arrival, we found an nice location close to the water and settled down for the long and lovely day ahead. After a while, naturally I began to become quite hot and flustered so decided to make the inevitable trip to the water. I waded in and after becoming used to the icy water, dove in and swam out.

Now, as one does when emerging from the water (I hope it's not just me), I tried to pictrure myself from the beach sitters view. I had a scene playing out in my head where I appeared like a James Bond girl, the role Halle Berry played in that atrocious orange bikini. I thought I could re-enact that scene emerging from the water, dripping wet, make-up  intact, looking like a natural star, a complete beaut. So I slicked back my hair and began to get up and walk towards the shore, putting on what I hoped to be a sultry, "I'm just casually emerging from the waves but look like a total babe" look. Naturally, karma had other ideas. You bastard.

I noted that I WAS drawing a few looks and decided to work with it, walking slower and smiling at on-lookers. I noticed a group of men staring and one pointed me out. I obviously thought my role was working QUITE well, I'd never received this much attention! So I thought it best to take on the demure look and smile whilst looking down, avoiding eye contact. It was at this precise moment in time that I noticed a most horrific sight. Without my knowledge (I swear it), my entire bikini top had become crumpled and slipped off my womanly assests during my mermaid impression of diving under the waves (don't mock me, I KNOW you do it too). Now as you are all aware, fellow readers, this is always a most compromising position for ANY girl, but what made this situation far, far worse was my sweet and oh so naive innocent grandmother.

"aah yeh!" she shrieked in her noticeably thick French accent, "My baby, your breastets are on show for everybody! We are not in Europe my daahling, you must cover your little boobies!" She then proceeded to mutter to herself in french before running over with a towel and trying to throw it at me even though I was still at least a metre out in the water and waving at her desperatley to turn around whilst slowly swimming under the water once again.

Needless to say, we made a hasty departure once I was brave enough to submerge from the water (this was an hour later when my toes had started to turn a suspicious shade of blue and I was absolutely certain the group of male individuals had dispersed).

Thank you OH SO wonderful mother nature and your cousin Karma for lving up to reputaton and wreaking havoc on my life. Kindest Regards.