All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on. --Havelock Ellis

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Cape Town: Cash Money

OK, so about that last post. After some reflection, and my father calling me to tell me that I should stop being such a whiny little bitch, I have edited it down.

Anyway, over the weekend, it was just me and Zach, because Lauren, Abby, and Nina went on safari. We went to the Castle of Good Hope, which is the oldest building in South Africa. It was built by the Dutch East India Company in the late 1600s because on long voyages between Europe and Asia, ships needed a place to refuel, nurse the sick and drop off their dead. Obviously, the Cape evolved into a much more important area, but it was originally settled by the Dutch for this purpose.

We went into the dungeons where they used to torture prisoners in order to get them to confess their guilt, because apparently in those days, it was thought that you had to force "criminals" to admit their guilt before going forward with their punishment. They would chain people up and lash them with the cat o'nine tails or hang them upside down and whip them, then drop them to the floor, which was often fatal. So, you know, good times were had in the Castle of Good Hope. They did have some interesting military memorabilia and we got to see them fire off a cannon built in 1770.

Other than that, it was a pretty uneventful weekend. I went back to work today, still without Abby, and reported on the Ultimate Frisbee National Championships. The people there were great--really, a nice group of people. But because I am unable to dress appropriately for any kind of weather ever (seriously, ask my parents, this has always been a problem) I was really cold in in my short-sleeved sweater and I also hadn't eaten all day. So I was ready to go, and when my photographer suddenly pulled into a gas station and was like, "Is it OK if we take a ten-minute lunch break?" I was like, "If by 'OK' you mean 'the best idea ever' then YES." So I got to eat hot samosas in the car and I was happy. And he and I were messy-eater bros, so I was like, "Finally, someone who won't judge me when I inevitably get food all over myself!"

The story got written and hopefully it will run tomorrow. Other than that, I'll just keep on keepin' on. Also, my father has never actually called me a whiny little bitch. For the record.

2 comments:

  1. But your whininess is accepted by me. So it's all good. That dungeon sounds like loads of fun, let's have the Jones Formal there (lawls). I still can't get over how much nutella and texas toast you can eat. I wish that was my life.

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  2. See? You still need me to tell you to dress warmer. Remember- it's better to have it and not need it......than need it and not have it. <3

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