With bleary eyes, hands that turned into claws about 28 hours ago, a back that’s about to break (if it hasn’t fallen off the rest of me yet) and more cuts, blood blisters and normal blisters, our house is not yet a home…

Ikea scored big time on the Sjolund/Moolman shopping spree yesterday, with us going ‘bos’ on everything remotely ‘homely’. Kettle, couch, plates, bed, lamps, bathmat, bin, candles, carpet, tv cabinet, pot holders, tin opener, coffee table, pillows, dining room table and chairs – including the cushions. etc, etc, etc…

It hurts just typing this…! (Okay, stop feeling sorry for me – I’m a terribly spoilt girl) The trouble with ikea is that the stuff is so cheap because you have to assemble it all yourself. Sounds good in theory, but in reality, two sets of hands can only turn so many screws into so many half pieces of furniture. I have never missed having friends as I did this weekend.

John and I took the rental van out to New Jersey on Friday morning to pick up his new girlfriend (his flatscreen/flat tv research and picked up on e-bay for a wonderful price) and then on to ikea where the above-mentioned shopping happened. Then all pieces went into the van and me, Chief Navigator, navigated John (Chief Driver) back through the Lincoln Tunnle (and Friday afternoon traffic) to Manhattan. We arrived at the new block at 4.40pm – ten minutes after the close off time for moving into the building. The doorman was adamant – we’d only be allowed to move in on Monday. Long story (and many tears) short, I had to sweettalk the building manager into letting us move our stuff. John calls it good PR, I call it something else. (You try looking seductively at a building manager after spending 6hours in ikea – I double-dare you!)

We were unpacking until 2am last night, up again for more of the same at 9am and now it’s almost 12pm and we decided to call it quits for the day. I have built enough pieces of furniture to furnish, well, our house! (To add to this fabulous experience, a vital part of the bed didn’t make the van, so John had to mission back to ikea this morning to fetch it – AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!)

But, after that massive moan session, I am happy to report that we’re 85% moved in. I will take some pictures once we’re done and share them with you. I think our home is beautiful.

For our move we rented a super big van with which we’re going to ikea to fetch all the furniture with tomorrow. Because of John’s age (hie hie hie!), it’s cheaper for me to rent the van – as I’m over 25. So I filled in all the forms and gave them my credit card details, and as they handed me the key, it dawned on me that I WOULD HAVE TO DRIVE THIS MONSTER OUT OF THERE!

Panic set in as I started wondering whether the petrol and clutch pedals would also be the wrong way around. Lucky for me John was in the passenger seat (brave soul!) and I pulled out and into the New York traffic. Apart from a few mumblings of ‘I think you’re a bit far over to the right, Babe’, John handled the 30metres I drove away from the garage quite well.

Now I’m chief map reader, and he gets to drive on the wrong, ag sorry, right side of the road. Much safer for all that way!

When I placed my order at Subway Sandwiches today, I asked the guy to include ghurkin. ‘Sorry?’, he said. ‘I’d like some ghurkin, please’, I said in my most non-British-South African accent. ‘A what??’, he said, heading for the olives. ‘GHURKIN, I want some bloody ghurkin on my sandwich!’, I said while pointing wildly through the glass to the bowl of cut-up ghurkins.

‘Oh!’, he said. ‘You mean pickles.’

Bloody Yanks.

Well done to Atmosphere for winning 4 PRISA Prism Awards on Tuesday night!

Julie’s team grabbed a gold for HBD’s campaign (you biscuits!), we got a silver on MWEB and two bronze ones for Sable Square and Media 24 Digital (Yay Don!!). Just proves the general theory that Atmosphere is indeed the shit-hottest PR agency in SA. For more on them, visit www.atmosphere.co.za.

These Yanks have very big boots to fill in my heart. Miss you guys.

On Tuesday night were meeting up with Bree & Will (of Kidd Rock sighting evening) and arrived slightly earlier than them. Being very cool New Yorkers by now, we decided to pick a spot to meet in the discussed area and text them our whereabouts. First venue was closed for a private function and we spotted a jolly-looking spot across the road called Cubby Hole. Perfect! We walked in, spotted a small table with two chairs, which I immediately hogged while John went off to get some Manhattan Martinis (Yuk). After making myself comfortable, I pulled out my cellphone to text Bree the name of the place we were, and had just finished when John returned with a slightly scared look on his face.

‘I think this is a gay bar,’ he whispered. And then it clicked…The hunky boys were actually chunky girls – hitting on other girls (and there were many of them!). I don’t think a yukky Manhattan Martini had ever been drunk before. Turns out this bar had been rated the top gay bar in Manhattan a couple of months ago.

Trust the Capetonians to be that colour blind!

I have been on the hunt for a perfect bra for pretty much all my life. One that sits comfortably and gives the necessary support, yet still looks gorgeous and sexy. And I have tried pretty much every avenue – Woolies, Mr Price, Temptations, La Senza – even the odd Ackermans special. But no luck. Ever. It’s always too hard/soft, too tight/loose, cuts into my flesh, leaves red welts, constricts the blood flow to my brain, etc.

So out I ventured to Victoria’s Secret (USD52 for a so-so bra…) and ultimately Macy’s. Ready to try anything, I thought WHY NOT and entered the world’s largest department store. Imagine my eyes when I went up to the 6th floor, stepped out of the elevator and saw a section the size of all the shops I’ve ever tried shopping at for a bra COMBINED, dedicated to lingerie! Oh My… Calvin Klein, DKNY, Wonderbra – you name it, they stock it – at average USD35, and currently offering 25% discount.

These are the joys of living in New York. Maar bra wonderlik!

It was a beautiful day out today and John and I decided to walk across Brooklyn Bridge. It’s this HUGE structure connecting Manhattan to Brooklyn and while images in your head might be of two lovely tourists, strolling hand in hand across the bridge, the reality is somewhat different! Loads of camera-wielding tourists, free-wheeling cyclists and cars below hooting and emitting poisonous exhaust fumes…!

The skyline of Manhattan is gorgeous and you realise how small you are in comparison to the enormity of these structures

Beautiful skyline views – and I got my first view of the Statue of Liberty!

The snow has melted, but I just found some more pics taken last weekend in the worst snow storm of the season that I though I’d share with you. (This was the boot-ruination, by the way…)


The next day:

The problem with walking down the streets in New York is that you could pretty much be walking past any known celebrity, without ever realising it. They look just like us, and in this weather, most of us are wrapped up in big baggy coats, scarves and hats, so even if you had fake boobs, there’s just no telling.

So imagine my excitement when we went out with our friends (yes, we have friends now!) Bree and Will to this somewhat dodgy bar last night, and ran into Kid Rock! (Pamela Anderson wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but then…it’s been a couple of years since they broke up, right?)

I guess for the New Yorkers, seeing someone like that at a bar is perhaps like seeing Colin Moss is for the Capetonians. But for me, a Capetonian living in New York, I must tell you, it’s still pretty exciting!

Kid, you rock!

My hair’s been in desperate need of a good trim for some time now, so when I spotted the 1000th split end against my black sweater yesterday, I decided that enough was indeed enough. It was time for some scissor action!

Not easy to find a new hairdresser (as we all know), especially when you’ve had a personal stylist come to your home to do it (best cut, best colour, best company!) for as long as I have (oooooooh, verlang ek nou na jou, Kobus!).

So, two options…Find someone reputable or go for the cheap option (USD25 at a salon chain). Oh, what to do? Spend my (loaned) dosh on a good cut, while possibly spotting a celebrity on her way in or out, or risk looking like a potato head until the next one…

You know me so well. His name was Tomo. He is from Japan and couldn’t understand a word I said. But with hand signals, the flash of a scissor and a flap of the wrist, I paid USD55 (that’s almost R400) just for a cut and blowdry.

But dammit, I look fabulous.