Into the Wild.

I've made a new friend.  Sure she's invisible, but we all make do with what we have people.  We met the same day that I miraculously turned into a platinum blonde and we've been known to partake in each other's company ever since. 

Day 1.  There I was, looking at myself in the mirror and thinking: Hell, blonde is totally hot on you! When out of nowhere she materialised behind me and kissed me on the cheek. She introduced herself as Marilyn, giggled like a fountain and instantly I was in love.  Now I'm not a lesbian but she can park her white slippers under my sofa anytime.  The world seems to agree with me on that one.  She's a very pretty lady, just hard to focus on her face with a rack like that.

And then: poof, she's gone!  In a giant puff of sexy smoke.  I'm starting to get used to it but it took awhile, her always popping in and out of my life like that.  She never sticks around for very long and says very little.  Maybe it's just that I can't remember what that woman says because the cleavage just sucks you in like a giant vacuum of loveliness.

Day 2: a hot sweaty day in Stellenbosch.  I'm walking idly down the street when behind me a hear a man saying loudly:  "Jirre ma is dit nou nie a parrrragtige vrou nie."  And there she was, her skirts blowing up in the street, winking in my direction.

Day 3:  I stop to put petrol in my new sexy silver Daihatsu Sirion (for the second time this week) and the pump attendant gets all chatty:  "Now where did the missus get such a niiice car hey?  Did the missus' husband buy it?  No husband?  He-he-he-he.  The missus is too lovely mos."  And as I drive off:  "Keep on shining!" like a giant final hooray.  I look in my rearview mirror and there she is again, parked off in very little clothing in the backseat, sucking the life out of a cigarette who loved every moment of it.

Day 4.  An old lover, freshly divorced, proposes marriage over a long overdue dinner and when I look down there she is, sprawled on the ground, stroking his balls. 

Day 5.  He proposes again, over the phone this time as she sits down next to me and hands the pair over with a smirky smile and a cavernous cleavage. 

And so it seems that what people say is all true.  Blondes, and specifically of the platinum variety, have more fun, attract more attention and get more doors opened for them than any other brand of haircolour in a bottle.  (Mine does not come out of a bottle though.  God no.  I have connections in the hair colouring industry.)

Eddie Vedder's soundtrack to the movie "Into the Wild" is on a loop in my car.  I can't get enough of it, and in a strange sort of way I guess it's appropriate.  The film (based on the book by Jon Krakauer) tells the true story of Christopher McCandless who abandons society after graduating from university and sets out to Alaska without money, a car or any other posessions.  Let me not spoil the movie if you haven't seen it.  Suffice to say that at the end he realises that nothing means anything if it cannot be shared with someone else.
 
I relate.  Obviously he also didn't have anyone to hold the damn camera.