Posts Tagged ‘deadlines’
Had my first group pilates class, which went okay. I think one of the reasons I prefer yoga though is that you can look in the mirror to focus (and check that you´re doing the posture correctly).
When I walked out of the pilates studio, the ground was all wet, which left be a little bewildered. At first I wondered if they were washing the car park? (“Classic Mallinson”, as TC would say.) But then I felt the gentle rain on my face, and was grateful for this unseasonal gift. Nothing beats Jozi thunder storms, but it was still pretty good. Pity I missed the hail though, I was busy scooping my stomach in or whatever at pilates.
Weather of the day: Hail in Dubai.
Pilates phrase of the day: Scoop your stomach in.
Achievement of the day: Still did not smoke, although was final, final deadline.
Didn´t have any exercise scheduled for today, but went for a brief swim when I got home from work. Actually, I was *almost* tempted to put in a surprise appearance at yoga after a hectic day, but decided I´d rather have some time to myself in the evening for a change. Not doing too well on the healthy eating at the moment (chicken tikka masala for lunch), but hey, it ´s crunch time at the office and I have to keep going somehow on my first non-smoking deadline!
Encouragement of the day: Kim´s comments re. my yellow chakra.
Exercise of the day: Swimming.
Temptation of the day: Saying no to that deadline cigarette.
Well, I finally submitted my nominations for the SA Blog Awards 2009, and hope you all have too, or will shortly, because the deadline is tomorrow! Actually, just checked, and the deadline has been extended to March 18 (that´s Wednesday), but still, time is running out…
Personally, I realised I didn´t have the heart to leave Mahendra out in the cold (imagine what fun he could have chosing a tie to wear to the awards ceremony!), so nominated this post for post of the year, because it still makes me laugh every time I read it…
Oh, about the nominating process – there are a whole lot of rules, which I didn´t explain properly previously. So you can click on this link if you´re confused. The main rule is that you have to nominate at least three different blogs. You can submite your nomination without doing so, but it will be disqualified. So please ensure you´ve fulfilled this criterion. Okay, I´ll stop droning on about the blog awards now, and talk about something else…
Decided to close my poll, cos pretty sure eveyone who has wanted to vote has done so by now.
So, what should my name be?
1.Tea or Téa (32%)
2. Trinks or Trinx (21%)
3. Trinklebean (18%)
4. Trinny (13%)
5. Theresa (8%)
6. Other (5%)
7. Tree or Trees (3%)
None of the other options garnered any votes, although I realise I left of “Tresa and Tresie”, so who knows if those options are popular or not. Thirty-eight votes, so not a bad turnout!
And what do I think of the results? Actually: “You can call me anything you like, as long as you don´t call me late for breakfast”. My grandpim always used to say this when I was growing up. I was never quite sure if this was simply a statement concerning his punctual nature, or if there was some latent deeper meaning.
I´d like to go on record as saying I´m a fan of the new facebook layout. How do you guys feel about it?
Talking of Facebook, I have decided to maintain the original group for people interested in my blog, which is called Liech, life, and everything else. Join this group if you´d like to receive a message every time I update my blog. However, I´ve also started a Trinny in Dubai fan page. Become a fan if you´d like to get an update about my blog activity once a week or so. If you want to be part of both groups, it´s not my fault if you complain of information overload! If you don´t do Facebook, then you can subscribe to my blog by clicking on the subscribe by email link on the righthand-side of the screen. Otherwise, you can find me on Twitter.
1. I went for my x-ray and blood test. Quick and painless, except the nurse did ask if I was pregnant. Um, no, I just have a little extra weight around the stomach area at the moment. (Handsome Bob: “Don´t take it personally. They have to ask all the unmarried women.” T: “Actually, I was the only one they asked.”) At least the encounter spurred me into going swimming this evening!
2. When I arrived at work, I discovered we have a new intern, aka personal slave. I know how it´s hard when you start somewhere and no one gives you any direction, so I´ve taken her under my wing. And she does whatever I tell her. Nice.
3. My editor casually offered me a press junket to Malta in March. (“You may have to write something about it though.”) Sadly, the offer was retracted when he realised it would be during a deadline week. However, he did mention that we´re getting thrown loads of freebies at the moment, and he´ll come up with something for me… Woohoo!
Hair is very important to me. Which isn´t to say I don´t shave mine all off with some degree of frequency. But this means finding a good hairdresser is vital; my hair is perennially growing out, and needs to be skilfully coaxed towards the desired level of chic(k)ness.
Before I left Cape Town, I was fortunate enough to work for a company where everyone understood this hairy imperative. I don´t know if it was official policy, but in our corner of the office it was perfectly acceptable, even encouraged, to take an extra-long lunch break to get your hair cut, as long as we weren´t actually on deadline.
Witness my last haircut before I left. We´d just finished the nine o´clock meeting, when I casually mentioned I was thinking of dying my hair chocolate brown.
“Chocolate brown,” my editor enthused. “That will look fabulous. You must do it. Make an appointment for today!”
“Ja, well,” I hesitated, disingenuously. “I have a long list today, and we´re going to print next week. Perhaps the week after that?”
“Nonsense,” she countered. “Call your hairdresser right away. You can have an extra-long lunch.”
A few hours later, I waltzed into H.A.N.D in Green Point. Luckily Beauty, my favourite hairdresser in the whole world, had a free slot. The truth is, I´m not actually that picky when it comes to my hair. I´m not going to bring in some picture of this week´s latest celebrity haircut, and demand to look exactly like Katie Holmes or Posh Spice, or whoever. I mean, why would I want to look like Katie Holmes, or Posh Spice, or whoever? I just want to look like me. But it is beyond my limited linguistic skills to explain what “me” is hairstyle-wise, especially since I don´t really know myself. In true passive-aggressive style, I want my hairdresser to access my subconscious; analyse my bone stucture and hair type; and come up with the precise haircut I desire, without me having to actually tell her what it is.
Beauty can do all of these things, which is why I love and miss her. On this particular occasion she stripped my hair of its previous redness, applied a gorgeous chocolate-brown dye, and rounded off the effect with a haircut that was the frigging shiznic. Everyone in the office was so dazzled by my transformation they failed to comment on the fact that this time it had been an extra-extra-long lunch.