Jeeks, jeeks everywhere

Frightfully slow on the uptake, I wanted to tell you about the ‘Jeek’ Dinner Peas dragged me along to last Thursday, even though the hype has long since moved on (as it will, almost a week later!)

I do have a few brief comments to make on the event:

- Had a proud moment (every few minutes, in fact) when my blog was inexplicably shown on a large screen, along with some other blogs, although unfortunately always right after Peas’ one (it felt exactly like when you get called onto the stage for your varsity degree and the person before you has won all the prizes and their citation takes 5 minutes, while yours takes a mere 30 seconds). But momentary fame, nonetheless.

- Regaled to us was an awesome story about the power of blogging, as used in a world-first marketing initiative by our local wine label, Stormhoek. Read about it here. I was so enthralled with it, that I wrote an email to Wine magazine, recommending they write a huge article on it, noting that it certainly speaks to the young, IT-savvy market they are so desperately trying to appeal to. The editor’s response? “We have actually carried the story in Wine, albeit as a small news piece”. And this is a prime example of why the wine industry in SA has failed to cross the divide and appeal to broader markets than the dwindling population of wealthy old white folk – if the wine media can’t do it, then what hope can the winefarms have?

- Met a sprightly German fellow by the name of Heinrich, who begged me to tell you all about his downloadable cellphone cartoons. So to all 0.00000083% of planet Earth’s population who browse here, be sure to check out his cute little cellphone dude at www.bunandbunee.com Hope this helps, dear boy!

- Peas and I were constantly asked if we were really geeks (or jeeks, as the cool geeks call themselves). I mean, what? Do we look like cool people or something? Does a jeek really have to be heavily IT inclined to be allowed into the clan of the cool uncools? And for that matter, do we not look heavily IT inclined? (okay, there’s no fooling anyone on that last point, you just have to look at my blog template to convince yourself otherwise)

In other weekend news:

Had my first-ever dinner out with the Gilb’s family (he’s come out often enough with mine, which is predictably a rowdy, overindulgent and expensive affair). I tell you, getting conversation out of his father is like pulling teeth! I rattled on about everything and nothing to fill the quiet void, until unwittingly, he saved me by saying to the owner of the restaurant: “Hey, you go to Mozambique often – any advice for these two?” This dude then launched into a 45-minute lecture on everything from accidentally running over little kids (“Whatever you do, don’t stop! There’ll be trouble if you stop!”) to how you need to deflate your 4x4’s tyres to 0.9 bar when riding up steep dunes. He spoke all the way through dessert, until we politely stood up to leave. He won’t ever know how grateful I was for the arb information…

My Saturday was pretty moody, 100% caused by myself. 3rm had asked me a while back to check with the Gilb if we could all go to Lollipop Lounge (strip club in Randburg) on Saturday, and after the Gilb put up a protest about not really wanting to go (he’s never been before, claims he doesn’t see the point), I basically forced him into it. I even made him ensure he had enough cash on him to get a lap dance. But as the day progressed, I grew less certain of my own desire to attend with him, for two reasons: a) no guy would truly prefer to have his girlfriend present at a strip club with him, it would seriously dampen the mood; and b) do I really want to see some (probably frightfully hot Eastern European) chick grinding her pelvis on his lap? For reason (a) I declared that I would not be joining him, and would rather find alternative entertainment plans for the evening, but for reason (b) I got more and more sulky. Yes, it was irrational and inconsistent of me, but logic could not convince me otherwise. By a small miracle, the plans were unraveled due to 3rm’s large night out on Friday, for vague details of which, kindly refer to the following point.

Four of my single friends had napovers this weekend (and yes, J, staying out with him until 6am is pretty much a napover). I’m not allowed to say more, unfortunately – gagged, not unlike the M&G frequently is. The point is, spring is in the air, hormones are running high, and my whiney mates are all shacking up, for which I’m eternally grateful – just shut the hell up about there not being anyone for you on this planet, and make the most of it will y’all?

Notwithstanding my Saturday protestations, I’m having a particularly “I love Gilb to bits” pining week – the kind where his being in Sepoenda sucks unbearably. The one thing that will help me cope of course, is the fact that the dolt decided he’d spend this entire up-coming weekend – no other weekend, folks, than the one immediately after his birthday, which is tomorrow – with a herd of boys playing golf near Hartebeespoort Dam. So, like, um, I’ll just cancel the nice treat I had lined up for you, then. Sometimes two wrongs do make a right. Muahahaha!