Into a fold

Three lifetimes ago, I was on a road trip from Cape Town to Augrabies Falls and one of my most vivid memories from that trip, was the people waving at us as we drove through their little towns. It always struck me, a city chick, as an incredible endearing gesture and without fail, would cause a little tightness in the throat.

Fast forward a few decades and I find myself in the northern hemisphere and in a very strange land. Low and behold, same waving-thing happened to me the other day with just a few minor (!!!!!) variances:

  1. I was not driving anyplace that can even be remotely called rural unless you squint really hard and blur out the strip malls, billboards and cars milling about.
  2. I was most certainly not confident on where I was going.
  3. I was on the ‘wrong’ side of the road and on the opposite side of the car of what I’m used to.
  4. And lastly, I was driving as if I was gently rolling over Faberge eggs.

Tilly the Tank and I (the Jeep had to have a name, you see) were on our way to the shops and after the 3rd fellow Jeep road user gave me the two-finger-resting-on-steering-wheel-wave, I realized that I’ve been accepted in an exclusive little sub-society that I was blissfully unaware even existed. Regardless whether I might be a complete psychotic asshole, I was acknowledged and sorta-kinda accepted into the Jeep Wrangler fold, purely based on what car I was driving.

What would the reaction be if I wave back with less restrain than I have seen from my fellow Jeep-drivers? Instead of the very civil Jeep-wave, really go overboard and wave my arms in the air with a huge grin on my face, possibly even sneak one of my hands outside the car and give them a thumbs-up. Would they contact each other and send out a warning to steer clear of the overtly friendly silver Jeep driver?

The tightness in my throat still happens when I see that two finger wave. Now though, for a completely different reason.

Tilly the Tank
Tilly the Tank and me on a windy day

An elixir to beat the dimples: Coffee

My most golden moment is first thing in the morning, when I have my lukewarm glass of water and freshly squeezed lemon juice. It is a fleeting self-congratulating moment and even though I have the best intentions and promise myself that I will be consuming only alkaline food & drink every single morning, I promptly follow that glass of water with a cup of coffee. Every. Single. Day. So much for good intentions.

My name is Lani and I am a coffee addict. And no, I don’t drink countless cups of coffee everyday (two cups are my maximum) but there is no way that I can say no to that morning brew. And that is addictive behaviour, right?

So be it.

A few weeks ago, I bought a new brand of coffee online (my favourite way of shopping) and after the current beans in the machine ran out, it was a good time to test drive Black Insomnia. Now the name should have given me plenty of warning but I thought that my caffeine tolerance was more than enough, seeing that I have my regular dose at least once a day.

Boy. Was I wrong.

The heart palpitations and shaking finally stopped just before lunch after having ONE cup at 7 o’clock that morning. I think they should change the name to ‘ritteltits.

Needless to say, that was my first and last cup…just too shit-scared. I was thinking though, that if the caffeine made my heart go pitter-patter at the speed of, well, Speed, then it can only do marvellous things for my non-existent circulation. The plan is to grind the buggery-beans and scrub my dimply thighs and just maybe, the cellulite will be scared off into oblivion.

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If you feel brave, head over to Black Insomnia‘s site and spoil yourself with their extremely potent brew. They also have other pretty cool stuff – and I love that logo! Me personally, am sticking to my current favourite Lavazza and will get my rocks off in some other way.

Respect!

Love & Light
xx