Did someone spit in my latte?

I really hope I'm just developing a case of paranoia. I really do.

You be the judge.

The waitress I reprimanded earlier for not providing me with timely service at the hotel bar, today met me at the door with a sunny smile and took my order before I'd had time to properly sit down. I smiled and thought "good for her". This was to be a gooood Saturday. 

After having my necessary bottle of water and copious amounts of rooibos-tea (I'm pretending to be healthy, let's hope the lingering flu is fooled), I felt like having a latte. 

In case you have missed it before (not very likely, but anyhow), lattes in this country rock, really rock, and so does the bonus cake that comes with the latte. This coffee is awesome. I. Can. Not. Stay. Away. 

The waitress took my order, and went away. I was happily looking forward to my latte (which was gonna rock, seriously). And oh how I long for that unblemished frame of mind, as my mental state was soon to take an unfortunate spirally dip (this is not an uncommon occurrence). 

When the waitress arrived with my latte she set it down in front of me, fixed me with a meaningful stare and said: "I hope you enjoy your latte, I made it specially for you."  

Perhaps having read this about a maid using her menstrual blood as a voodoo-y spice in her employers' food (via Stepford Dreams), I was already in pretty someone's-out-to-get-me state of mind. Now... is it just me or is this the worst thing for a waitress to say to a coffee-crazed Finn who is not unwilling to entertain elaborate conspiracy theories? 

Well, maybe it is just me. Yup, pretty sure it's just me. Shouldn't probably have had all that sugary cake at breakfast... hmph... 

Well, it has been at least weeks since my last proper bout of self-inflicted housewife drama. This was long overdue. 

Thanks universe.

Getting some exercise in the beautiful Pretoria

I just participated in a marathon.

Really I did.

Well, actually it really was a marathon, the Deloitte Pretoria Marathon 2009 to be exact, but what I had signed up for (in the drunken stupor of last weekend's braai) was to walk the first leg of the race, i.e. the first 10 kilometers. I and my friends managed to do this in 1 hour and 45 minutes, which I consider an achievement and will cherish the medal I received for all eternity. Actually I think I'll be wearing it for the next couple of weeks. It's red and gold, so it goes with a lot of my outfits.  

I didn't even really get out of breath, which was the real achievement. The five of us, all women, had a lot fun chatting as we walked and the kilometers just disappeared. Very cool. And at the finish line awaited the photo-happy hubby snapping pictures of the sweaty me like there was no tomorrow (perhaps he was thrown by the sudden motivation in me to do something like a 10k race, he still seems rather baffled) to show the future generations and probably everyone on facebook that yes, occasionally, I do take up something that does not involve alcohol in any way. 

However, the real cool thing about this race was not the sweating, the incriminating photos, honking angry motorists (to whom we waved with smiles on our faces), smiling metro policemen, the snap-happy hubby, or the guy who ran the 10 kilometers in sloppies (flip flops), but the chance to walk in the beautiful neighborhoods of Pretoria. I hadn't realized how long it has been since I have had the opportunity to just walk around, peer into other people's houses and yards, and enjoy the streets lined with jacaranda trees. I wish they had been in bloom. That would have totally made my day. 

As we finished and the man whose face I'll always think of with a camera in front or near it was running around "getting all the angles", we gathered a bunch of leaflets for other races. I'm really looking forward to more of these with the same excellent company at my side, as well as to seeing more of South Africa in this most organic of ways - moving my two quirky-sneaker clad feet. 

Points to SA for getting me off my behind!