Tag Archives: 20somethings

Featured: The Gourmet Millennial


By Lev Novak via Thought Catalog


Source: Thought Catalog, LeeC3

Snobbery in food and drink is all we can afford. It’s the symbol of the life we took for granted from participation trophies (which, by the way, we never asked for: don’t put that excess on us.) We can’t afford stocks or a mortgage, but we cling to our hopes. So we consume them instead. So we have artisan coffee and fancy three-buck sodas and gluten free cupcakes and truffle fries. And they rock. I love them.

But they’re all I can afford to love.

I read this article a few days ago when it came out and I read it again today and it’s definitely something that I feel is kinda true about people of my age in general. I could be wrong, of course, and it could be that I’m just hanging around a lot of consumerism junkies who are mildly obsessed with the #lifestyle. And that the world beyond my friendship and social circles really despises our lovely locally-brewed craft beer and gourmet fudge and gourmet sarmies. And that we’re weird freaks. But no – not really anyway. My friends are super flourishing for their ages but it is true that we don’t have all the concrete ‘got life figured out’ things the old folks had and our timelines are not as not as defined and urgent as the generations before us. And as a result, YES, we take comfort in our Instagram meals and lives because, for now, that works. It’s all we can afford to fuel our indulgence for now. In Lev’s words, ‘…they’re all I can afford to love’.

Give the full article a read over here.



That Awkward Moment was a bit awkward for me irl


That-Awkward-Moment-Movie-PostersThat awkward moment when the gag reel is better than the actual movie. Also, that awkward moment when the only reason you continue watching a movie is because you genuinely like the actors but from other movies they’ve done, so like a proud buddy you show support even though you’re thinking, ‘I guess I’m only here for the six packs  and the trapz then’. I guess, truthfully, my enthusiasm before watching the movie was normal. Zac Efron made me laugh in 17 Again, so I trusted that he had it in him to make me laugh again. Michael B. Jordan stole my heart as Steve in Chronicle and I was literally heartbroken by what happened to his character. I cried. And then there’s Miles Teller, just looking at his face makes me wanna crack up, there’s just something about the way he looks and talks that just makes me never wanna take him seriously. Like Seth Rogen. And then this strange movie happened. *side eye*

I get it, boys have weird dating experiences too, and I appreciate the whole concept of the dude as the reluctant love interest at first, because it’s an unfortunate truth and bad habit among some of them. It’s really great that they’re making bromantic comedies now. Yeah, I just said that. Because I enjoy using bro as a prefix a lot and, in the words of Jessa Johansson, I don’t like women telling other women what to do, or how to do it or when to do it. Phew. Okay. So the movie follows three bros who’ve taken a vow to stay single because one of their bros just got jilted. Seems like your regular run-of-the-mill ‘recipe for disaster’ plot, right? Sure. But the execution, my word… Ugh. It just pains me when something claims to be comedy and then kinda fails to make me, and the group of people I invited to watch, laugh. It’s like group effort confirmation that oh, I guess this is ‘hehe’ funny and not ‘hahaha’ funny, it should have said so on the label.

My first problem was the obsession with Daniel’s (Miles’ character) bowels. I know it was supposed to be funny and I was supposed to laugh but, just no. I like Imogen Poots, I don’t know why but I do, but also she freaks me out with her eyes and her hair and she kind of dwarfs Zac because he’s shortish. However, I’m glad there were some lines she delivered that made me huff laugh. Like the scene where she sees him after he made a dash for it and never called after they did the lay-down-move-around.

Jason: I thought you were a hooker.
Ellie: What?
Jason: A hooker.
Ellie: Why?
Jason: There were hooker signs.
Ellie: What’s a hooker sign?
Jason: You had on hooker boots.
Ellie: Lots of people have them.
Jason: There were tons of condoms.
Ellie: Did you ever think they might be there because I’m not having a ton of sex?
Jason: No! I thought they were a hooker sign!
Ellie: What’s a hooker sign?
Jason: What about The Story of O?
Ellie: That was research for a book.
Jason: There were envelopes full of cash.
Ellie: I pay my landlord in cash so that he can commit tax fraud. How long have you lived in New York?
Jason: Man, not long enough.
Ellie: Yeah.
Jason: Wait. Can I make it up to you? Let me make it up to you.
Ellie: You wanna make it up to me?
Jason: Can I?
Ellie: I don’t know. You can have my number… And…

And then she gives him a note with her number on it. Jk. It had ‘Go F*&k yourself’ written on it. 🙂 She owned that scene for me.

I felt like Miles Teller carried most of the ‘funny’ banter. Like he was the only reason I found some of the dialogue amusing, with his bros, with that really tall cute fwb of his we all knew he was gonna end up with. I can honestly say he managed to remain the funny boy he is. But he got majorly dampened by this movie. Fingers on the bible, I LOLed once. Throughout the whole movie. And it was courtesy of Miles Teller’s mini rant before a girl turns up to the man cave unannounced.

“She’s not going to talk about Xbox. I’m going to be sitting here thinking like, ‘oh I have to fart but maybe I can’t right now.’ She better have some hot friends. Open the door. I don’t care. I’m getting wasted.”

Everything else was awkward and a bit uncomfortable. Zac’s ‘Rock out with your C&*k out’ outfit at a fancy dress party? Awkward and uncomfortable. How did that communication breakdown happen and which dad would ‘like’ that? Michael B’s whole relationship ups and downs… utterly uncomfortable. And it’s a hard pass from me on that weird masturbating scene. And lastly, the Christmas party scene. Unbearable to watch. I was 2 seconds away from skipping that part. If it counts for anything, they managed the awkward part really well but it was definitely not that kind of awkward I wanna be watching. I’d rather watch the gag reel below a thousand times. Because it’s better than the movie.


Fellow citizens of Passive Aggressiva…



of or denoting a type of behaviour or personality characterized by indirect resistance to the demands of others and an avoidance of direct confrontation.

A defense mechanism that allows people who aren’t comfortable being openly aggressive get what they want under the guise of still trying to please others. They want their way, but they also want everyone to still like them.

Google AND Urban Dictionary, suhn!

Disclaimer: This is a Passive Aggressive post.

I am a passive aggressive person too, hence my post title but I don’t over-do it, I overdo a lot of things, like cyber stalking and eating junk food so I’m not afraid to admit when something is a bad habit. Actually I’m more aggressive-aggressive than passive aggressive, but I digress. A lot of people have made a bad habit of being passive-aggressive. Motivational quotes are cool, complaining about awful people is okay, being thankful for your fortune is excellent. But posting about it everyday in this annoying, self righteous, sub-texty way? Brakes on that one.

People that have ‘moved on’ with their lives. Uhm… Okay… Yeah, we see that through all the pictures you’re posting of your new life. Newsflash: Everybody has a new life because we’re all adults now. While I have no doubt that you meet some people for a season or a reason or whatever that bumper sticker smut is, I’m not sure about those guys that overstate how happy they are about this ‘moving on’ obsession.


Yeah, we’re all glad you’ve moved on, tbh but why are you so vigorously informing everyone of this? Who is it directed to? Surely your new life acquaintances don’t need to know about this horrid past life of yours and your old life acquaintances don’t care about your feels – which is why you chucked them in the first place. Keep your personal ghost affirmations on your bedroom walls please, you’re not doing yourself any favours by taking on the Carly Simons ‘You’re so vain, I bet you think this song is about you’ high road. You’re making everyone feel weird for you. Stop.

Another thing, sub-tweet crazy Religiosos. Wow, my religious friends can be PA and always with a big PA smile. It’s like, dude, if you’re gonna judge me, please judge me to my face like a man. Like posting these little ‘motivational messages’ that are just filled with judgment and ‘You should probably be living your life like me, though’ undertones honestly sends me chuckling. I saw this one post from one of my PA friends:


And I was like, no way, you’re having a laugh mate. You mean, for all the beautiful enlightenment religion brings you don’t see the prejudice and sexism in this creepy ass, prudish image? Now, I’m sure ‘soul ties’ are a thing. In fact I believe they are but this agenda-pushing doll photo is not what they’re about. Respect our intellect. Also, I know it’s not a coincidence that you’re posting this on Sunday/Monday just after most of your timeline has posted a flurry of photos of groove and good times involving alcohol and opposite sex canoodling. Shame on you.

Hater-surrounded, Humble braggers, please give us a break! Have you ever noticed how most humble braggers tend to be the same people who have haters? Having haters is the most passive aggressive thing that has ever happened, really. Who are these people that dedicate their lives to raising their noses at your achievements, bruh? And why do you feel the need to always tell them how lucky you are and how eternally honored you are? Name these people and leave us out of it! (Also, name these people because I love to see a good fight :P). Stuff like, ‘I have so much love for my haters’ and ‘Money walks, haters talk’ (which doesn’t even make sense) confuse the crap outta me. Like whoever came up with this and obviously the other people that post it religiously:


Really? You think a whole human is that jealous of you? This can’t be a stranger, obvi so why don’t you just tell this person to stop ‘hating’, whatever that means, and stop humble bragging about how supposedly awesome you are and hinting about how envy-worthy your life is and how much your success has brought you haters. Euw.

There are a lot of situations and ways in which we use social media to hide and throw stones from the high towers of our macs and being passive-aggressive is one of them. Do it, becuase it’s human and inevitible. Don’t overdo it, nobody cares, you’re being annoying and petty. Shut up and eat your salad.

And with that, my rant ends. 🙂

Side not: We’re all guilty of this, guys. It’s chilled. But not really 😉


Drake vs Blake – The ESPYS Awards 2014


Cards on the table, before I saw this I did not know what on earth the ESPYS Awards were and that they even existed. I have valid reasons; 1, I’m South African 2, It’s American athletics stuff which is mostly like basketball and ‘football’ or tennis or whatevs and 3, American athletes? Basketball? ‘Football’? Come on, I’m South African. Don’t be butthurt about that list, I obviously mean I’m not familiar and have no desire to be familiar with any of that stuff – but I do love American Award shows – see Oscars.

So I was going through my Tumblr at work out of boredom, as one does, and I saw the tags #drake #blake #chris brown and I was like ‘YASS! Celeb dude gossip!’ (Don’t you dare judge me – we all do it). True to form, I watched the video and I did not find a weird Rihanna-inspired feud, I found a skit and it was funny as hell. And… I found the new object of my famous people obsession and cyber stalking, Mr Blake Griffin. Holy Canolly! Yes there’s something to be said here about my obsession with giant biracial boys (Ahem, Kris Humphries) – or any biracial boys, actually – but that’s a story for another day. Drake is pretty good here and I actually never knew he could act or be funny and Blake can do no wrong, because 2.08 metres of muscle and awesomeness. Chris Brown was a gorg surprise and I’m glad he and Drake can now come together and do something like this because peace rules and humour conquers all.

You only have to watch until the 5th minute but you can continue if you want to watch a lot of Drake being Drake.


What Does it Mean to Give 110%?


watchmen-11What does it actually mean to work your hardest? Not to just work hard but to work your hardest. What do phrases like ‘giving it your all’ and ‘working your arse off’ actually mean? I’ve heard people say these things a thousand times and I may have said them myself once or twice in my life. But honestly, I didn’t mean them. Because I have never worked that hard in my life. I’ve given anything from 50% (the bare minimum) to 100% (actually applying myself ), but 110%? Pouring my blood, sweat and tears into something? No, not really. Not in school or work or love or life in general. How do people even do that? Is there a course I can take? An app, maybe?

I’ve been reading a lot of online stuff lately, like Creative Nestlings – which makes you feel both in touch and out of touch with the Arts scene in the country, meh – and I’ve noticed how some people are really keen on improving and enhancing their craft. When it comes to my writing, specifically my novel writing, I turtle. I do dumb things like keeping manuscripts to myself and not trying to get published then complaining that my genius is going to waste before retreating into my 9-5. So goes my turtling. And I think the most messed up thing about it is that I only noticed this week that I may have chronic slacker disorder.

A lot of my friends have been achieving some pretty impressive things in the past few months. Wonderful things that I am so proud of them for. But this is always after they go into some sort of hibernation for a few months as well. It’s like they hide out to put their master plan into place and then they emerge months later having conquered their Everest. And I’m always just like, “Wait, wha – ? Wow.”

Why haven’t I ever been able to be super serious about something and work super hard? Why do I always cruise through stuff and get pretty good results instead of drowning myself in them and getting the best results? I don’t know, because comfort zones. My one friend once told me that I’m afraid of success. That may be it. When my first play was staged in Grade 11, I  cried and shook and couldn’t watch. In uni, I always chose to take the easier way out than having to sit with perfecting a masterpiece, I always chose the easier story to write for the campus paper, or the easiest essay question in a Lit test. This has been my ailment. And that’s the perfect word for it. Being an unmotivated person is an illness that needs to be purged.

So maybe now that I’ve actually realised that I do have  problem and that I do want to get rid of it, I’ll actually start trying harder and maybe get that ‘Always Give 110%’ App. Maybe I’ll disappear for a few months from social networks (not really) and come back with 500 published articles. Maybe i’ll just try.

P.S This was more of a personal rant-slash-affirmation situation, but if you’ve taken anything from it then good on ya!

Some things are best expressed in short bursts of disbelief


I know, I know, Millennials have already shortened everything so do we really need to allow them to not confront things and just use ‘short bursts of disbelief’? The answer is yes. I know myself and I so happen to know my friends and close acquaintances as well and I can say this, it’s better for our health to say WTF and walk away than to have to sit someone hopeless down and level/discuss/argue with them. For every annoying, exciting, shocking and surprising thing, I’ve managed to be able to answer in short startled question exclamations. Case in point: WTF?!

There are specific moments though, without fail, that will literally have you so shocked you do the eye-pop-eye-roll (Blair Waldorf taught me this) and it’s the only reaction that suffices and won’t land you in jail.


These are all the dumb, ignorant, blind, intolerant, uncultured, unchangeable, dumb stupid people we meet from day to day. Most of the time they’re thrust upon you at parties or work functions or any other social gathering for that matter. You would not know or speak to any of these people willingly and would never be caught dead calling them friend or even admitting you kinda know them in public (I can’t speak for family on this one, you’re sort of stuck with those ones). But these are the people whose presence is mash-up of uncomfortable and annoying and when they open their mouths to talk you’re just like…



Subtext: There’s just no way your brain works like that. Are you on meds? Am I being punked?


We live in a rage age, that’s a fact. Everybody is literally always at tipping point. Y’know, like that song ‘Don’t push me cause I’m close to the edge/I’m trying not to lose my head’? We’re all just trying to keep our heads above the rage water here. Seriously. And living in Jo’burg I can attest to just how close people are to killing each other every day on these roads and bank queus. Even the smallest thing can set a Joburger off because – I’m convinced – they live their lives on ‘Come at me bru’ mode. And when you have a run-in with these beautiful dark creatures, male and female, and whether you’re taking your time reversing out of a parking spot or bump them in a pub or club, or laugh out loud in the cinema house, you will not be disappointed. They will hulk out on you. And you, coming from a normal city like Cape Town or Pretoria, have to bite your tongue while the green rage monster has his moment, like…


Subtext: I’m actually equally peeved but I feel like a have more to lose here. It’s so hard being civilised.


Ex-classmates, ex-friends, ex-workpeople, ex effing boyfriends. Amicable splitsville or not, I’m not trying to have your life all up in my grill. Yes, maybe sometimes I strike up communication because I need someone’s contacts/need my favorite green blazer back/need a reference/am lonely AF, but please avoid me when you’re happy. Whether these people from your cosy past managed to get into a better university/managed to be normal/get better jobs/move on (a couple of times!), you’re just not keen. It’s not something you wanna swim in, honestly. So when an ex anything sends you a jolly above-it-all message or invite to anything like ‘Omg, how’ve you been?’ or like ‘Omg, please come to my party!’, I’m like OMG…


Subtext: Who the hell cares, spaz?! OR I’m obviously still scarred by you, please shut your face.


Oftimes, as confused 20somethings in our crazy busy lives that are full of meaning, we find that shit really does happen. A LOT. Not because we deserve it or allow it or whatever, it just does. We cry and freak out and stress out a lot because every day is like a box of shit chocolates, you never know what shit you’re gonna get. But, you know it’ll definitely be there. And so we’ve formulated our individual defense against the shit arts mechanisms. Don’t wanna be late? Be super early. You want that promotion? Work your butt of and be that weirdo who’s the first one in and last one out the office. Want a better body? Be healthier, baby! You have a sneaky suspicion it might rain and don’t wanna get soaked? Try carrying an umbrella, dude. Tired of getting your heart broken? Date healthy-minded dudes and learn how to be a better judge of character, dummy. BUT. You’re a 20something so this is what you find out, the rain is too strong and the wind blows your pathetic little umbrella away, you hop on the scale and find that you’ve actually put on a kilo, and that nice guy you started dating is a closet sociopath, and you’re just like…


Subtext: Really? Seriously? This is what happens when I actually try? Whatevs. (Que hipster mentality, existentialist crisis)

So there you have it. We already have sooo much happening in our lives, do we really need to address and confront everything? No. Some things are better just ended with a sigh and an ‘I’m out’. It’s exhausting to take everything seriously. So even when I am pissed off or confused or shocked beyond, I take a breathe and think ‘Do I really wanna get into this?’ and the answer is no way, I’ll stick to my  short inner bursts of disbelief. So to addressing all the crazy out there…


[Gif Source: Tumblr]

Signs you’re about to hit rock bottom



Alright, before you panic this post is not dark and end-of-your-line-y. It’s not about being a failure in life or not winning at love and work. I’m just here to goof off about those phases we all go through that aren’t really evident of a successful and well functioning adult, those sulky, kinda irresponsible, probably naggy, highly emotional phases we go through when nothing is going our way. The 20something’s seasonal guilty pleasure of self indulgence and mild self pity, i.e letting yourself go (hello, sweatpants and showerless weekends). Here are some signs that you’re slowly (or quickly) getting into a social and physical slump… #fml

  • Being on antibiotics and actually being very upset that you will not be able to continue your gross tradition of using wine as a pick me up slash sleeping meds for a whole week.
  • Leaving the house looking like Charlize Theron’s character in Young Adult and feeling completely okay about it. And being unashamed about leaving the shopping complex with a shopping bag full of snacks and two pizzas in your epic get-up.
  • Asking yourself tough questions like ‘Where the hell does laughter come from? What is it even? And why am I extremely attracted to boys who make me do such a thing? There must be a documentary on this.’ Out loud.
  • Feeling sorry for couples like, don’t they miss alone time? Shame.
  • Singing Mumford & Sons’ ‘I will wait’ while preparing your less than healthy dinner. Because you’re actually singing the song to your less than healthy dinner. That can’t be right.
  • Binge-watching Girls and Geordie Shore and having similar sentiments towards both. Good and Bad.
  • Falling into old, childish habits you haven’t done in maybe even years. Like having to delete unfamiliar numbers from your Contact list after a night out. What the actual f?
  • Thinking about your ex in any way. Which usually leads to internet stalking. And maybe even contact. Bleh.
  • Watching The Croods and crying when the dad gets separated from his family. Like ugly crying until your throat gets sore. Even though, through the tears and hiccups, you’re busy telling yourself it’s a kiddie movie and people don’t die so there’s no reason to be this emotional.
  • Exhausting the wine stash and the snack stash in one go. And then also destroying the reserve stash. Shame on you.
  • Going days without showering. This is not Oppi, get your act together.
  • Tumblr.
    (Night trolling angry teen blogs? Seriously, man.)

If any of these apply to you or if you’ve done any of them, 1) Don’t feel bad, you’ll get out of it sooner or later and 2) I think you’re awesome for letting yourself feel all your feels and wallow for a bit. Now go ahead and rock your bad hair days in all your sweatpant swagger like you are being paid for it. [Then hurry and get over yourself ;)]


Young Woman Having Bad Hair Day