The Four Phases of a healthier type of addiction

Just like peanut butter, and tattoos, for me series-watching comes in phases.

Phase 1 = discovery ie. the day I found crunchy organic peanut butter at Woollies and ate it on toasted rye bread and almost died/had a baby/went to heaven.

Phase 2 = enjoyment of discovery ie. After discovering tattoo-ing and deciding to get one at a poignant time in my life, I floated around in a tattoo bubble, looking at it constantly, feeling wonderful, watching LA and Miami ink – engaging in everything ‘tattoo’.

Phase 3 = Once a series/peanut butter nuttella combo/tattoo experience is discovered, and enjoyed and finished. One starts to think about taking a break. Maybe not consciously, maybe consciously (in my case with peanut butter I sometimes need to throw it away to reach this point so I don’t become obese) And then consider something else, maybe start reading a good book/ running more/ move to an inadequate equivalent to peanut butter, like cheese or marmite/ dye my hair instead of getting another permanent mark on my body.

And then…

Phase 4 = withdrawal kicks in. ie. “its been almost 2 weeks since I have had peanut butter/watched a series non-stop for 24 hours…l think its time” ( tattoos may differ here in time frame, after having mine done in August last year, only now am I starting to really withdraw)

On the weekend, after about a ten day break from series-watching ( New Girls, which was fabulous) I engaged with Homeland. HOMELAND for me was one of those ‘must watch next episode now or wont sleep kind of series’ – a similar experience to Lost and Dexter.

I started watching on Saturday and finished at 12 last night. Its amazing and not the American War Hero type drama you think its going to be when you start watching.

Then, @Stellllaaaaaaaa put season one of ‘Girls’ in my Drop Box. Looks like there wont be a phase 3 this time…

But, I am winning in the peanut butter arena. I threw away my last tub about 3 weeks ago (this is very long for me) Withdrawl started kicking in last week, so I am happy to announce I have a tub in my bag ready to take home with me after work! Wonderful!



If I am totally alone here, I don’t really care, because after 28 years I actually enjoying being weird me 🙂

Happy series-wathing/peanut butter-eating/tattoo-ing!


my precious

Missing home a lot this week.

Found myself closing my eyes this morning on the train dreaming of sitting somewhere on kloof street with a coffee and a magazine, maybe a friend too.

When I start imagining signal hill-running I have to stop, otherwise I float into a world of endless dissatisfaction with ‘now’

It’s quite tough here. And its making me tough. Which is why I stay.

Toughness is relative, but to me, its constant highs and lows. But I do find, the lows last longer here.

Have realised how totally sheltered I was from the world and things not going my way.

Have grown up.

Will be forever grateful to my friend Julia Durrant for talking me through her experience in London. Her words echo every time I doubt why I moved over here.

When I come home, which will be sometime soon, like within the next 18 months, (who knows, I keep telling myself that to keep me going) I will be clearer on what type of life/home/job/ I want. and I will be able to get it. I will have the confidence to get what I want and ask for what I need. I will appreciate the mountain more, and the stillness. I already feel all these things, so am hoping the next chapter here before I come home will only bring about more growth and epiphany’s.

I will hug my sausage dog Thandi, and never let her go.

But first, I have the Temper Trap and Gypsy Kings to see live before the Olympics start at the end of July.


Endless ‘once and lifetime opportunities’ in Londontown.

I complain and bitch about you London, but its also how I feel about my family. So really, you should be flattered.