So wrong in so many ways

You have GOT to be kidding.

I wish I were a panda

Because this just looks soooo much easier than what I have to look forward to.
(Although, clearly even momma pandas get annoyed by their squalling babies. You'll note she tries to put it back at the end there.)

Also, I bet pandas don't get morning sickness. And if they get fat, who can tell? Who'd even care?

Spam o' the day

"Britney Spears Vagina Uninjured in Car Crash"
"Paris Hilton in Crack-in-Arse Scandal"

Am I just easily amused, or are those really funny?

The update, updated

For tedious and tiresome and sadly unfightable reasons, the 9 days I thought I had to make permit happen turn out to be only 4 days. Which cannot by any stretch of the imagination be made to resemble 5-10 days, even with begging letter. So I give. I surrender. The universe does not wish for me to be in Cape Town this year. Fine. I won't be.

If anyone out there knows any good curses, please direct them at whatever idiots thought it would be a good idea to outsource all visa functions to the private sector. I thank you.

Bureaucracy, the update

Oh it just gets more and more exciting. This whole "apply for entry clearance while in SA" thing? They need "5-10 working days" to process. Which is interesting, considering I'm only in SA for... 9 working days, including arrival and departure. Huh.

"You can include a cover letter asking them to speed things up and giving your reasons," I am helpfully told. Obviously, based on past experience, I do not have a whole lot of confidence in that. I imagine that the 5-10 day time is not because they actually require 10 days to ponder the merits of my application, but rather, because applications arrive and get dumped on the bottom of a large pile of other applications. They work their way through the pile, and reach mine when they reach it. Say, 15-45 days after submission. "Oh lookee," they will say. "She wants urgent consideration. Aw bless."

So the ulcer-inducing panic continues. (This can't be good for The Bebeh.) I fully expect to be stuck in Cape Town longer than expected. While some of my Capetonian readers may rejoice at this news, I do NOT, for reasons of (a) cost of new plane ticket (pretty sure mine doesn't allow changes) and (b) obligations back in London. Cancelling a few shifts would be annoying enough, relying on my freelance income as I do, but it's worse than that: Saturday 6 September is iKnit day. Big ol' knitting expo that I'm exhibiting at. Really not okay to skip it. Really not viable for Beloved to do it without me.

Arg.

We can haz passports!

So let's review. Me: two letters, two faxes, and about three phone calls, all resulting in vague assurances.

Beloved: one phone call, resulting in immediate return of passports.

I'm really trying not to take this personally...

FYI

The Home Office has a surprisingly tenuous relationship with the truth. Oh, they say "allow 10 working days for us to process your request", but they MEAN "...and then allow an extra 10-30 working days, depending on the tides and planetary alignments, and whether or not we like your face, for us to mock you with our pretence at helping."

Also, someone may tell you "you don't really need this piece of paper, but you can get one if you like", but what they MEAN is "...of course if you don't have it, you better not plan on ever travelling anywhere, ever."

What all this means is, if someone in Liverpool is having a good day, I might get to Cape Town and back this month. If someone in Liverpool has run out of coffee, I might get to Cape Town, and then spend my holiday fighting with the British High Commission to be allowed back into the UK. If someone in Liverpool has run out of coffee, is on a diet and lost a parking spot this morning, I might not be able to leave the country at all for a few more months.

It's a nailbiting ride.

Losing amusement value fast

Are spammers getting smarter, or are my filters getting dumber? Anybody else noticing this? It's emails, and also Movable Type comments. Hundreds of both a day.

Grrr.

Mah genius recognised!

Ooh, this is exciting, I made Post of the Week! (With a "judgely huddle" including Glitterforbrains, who is hilarious, by the way.) Gosh. I do like this. It's been a long time since I put much into this blog, so I don't really feel I deserve it, but I'm totally chuffed that some people felt I had something interesting to say. Thanks chaps.

Caution: spiders inside

You know when you think you know something and then years later you find out you had it all wrong? And that's really annoying and sometimes embarrassing? Well, I had one of those moments yesterday, except instead of being embarrassing it was DISGUSTING and totally FREAKED ME OUT.

It's like this.

Cape Town is home to these wonderful things called rain spiders, also frequently called baboon spiders. They are huge (like, saucer sized), ugly, common, and revolting. And harmless. So you encounter them, you deal with them, you take a really long shower and tell everyone about your gross spider experience, and that's that.

In my case, sometimes you encounter them, you get your non-arachnophobic mother to deal with them, and then you suffer while she plays practical jokes on you involving letting the spider loose again and not telling you where, because ha ha, aren't you a wimp, they're so harmless and actually quite cool.

Through bloggity chance yesterday, however, I found myself doing a little fact checking online. Huh.

Turns out, rain spiders look like this.


Which is odd, because the ones I've so frequently encountered - and been tormented with - look like this.



They are in fact baboon spiders. Which, common usage notwithstanding, are a different sort of beast entirely. And maybe not quite harmless. Not lethal... but "aggressive". They jump, people tell me. And bite. And make you sick.

Some conclusions:
1. My mother is an EVIL COW.

2. I am unusually unlucky to have always, always encountered the nastier kind of spider, while everyone else I've spoken to since discovering this confusion had the correct idea about rain spiders all along.

3. I suppose I should really be very grateful that I didn't know my mistake at those times when I was dealing with the bloody things. That time when one fell out of my trousers just as I was about to put them on, for instance, landing between me and the door. Or the time when I woke up and saw one on the ceiling directly above me, and there was no one else in the house to deal with it. Yup... just as well I didn't know then that they were aggressive, jumpy, and venomous.

PS. Beloved has been so rude as to doubt my story. He has never seen a baboon spider in Cape Town, therefore he believes my memory is at fault. He is, of course, completely wrong, and this article backs me up - baboon spiders a-plenty in Cape Town. This article also points out, casually, that outside Africa, these little treasures are known as TARANTULAS.