Back to bedlam

The past week was basically a clone of the one before in the sense that I didn’t get up to too many things of a physical nature. The only difference to this sequel however was the crazy amount of thinking I did, and when taking into consideration that I’m a pathological over-thinker, you should imagine the trail of smoke above my shoulders.

Most of them were insignificant observational thoughts, mixed with some minor planning and a fraction of self-improvement.

My American dream is getting more and more real every day. We got our holiday visas in the week, so now we’re looking at flights. No turning back then... Unfortunately we’re stuck on accommodation and VIP passes, so if you’re reading this from your New York penthouse suite with ample bedrooms and friends in high places, drop me a comment below or drop me a tweet at @DewaldPotgieter.

Speaking of American - I’m thinking that Jenny the ’68 Camaro deserves some nice new brakes and a new suspension. Thanks to the long-awaited renaissance of sundresses and the really really short jeanpant in the greater Pretoria metropolitan area, I’m not half the driver I should be at the moment.

Unfortunately I have no clue where to take my business, so if any of you do, and you want to save the lives of innocent pedestrians walking across the street from the ones in the sundresses, drop me a comment below or drop me a tweet at @DewaldPotgieter...

I realise just how dependent I am. But don’t think that I don’t have my own dependents...

I’m beginning to think that Zsa Zsa, my bulldog, despises all things metrosexual. She hasn’t spoken to me since I returned home on Friday night smelling like a James Blunt concert. The worst part is that I cheated on her with another man as my plus one, which in itself is sad on many other levels. But hey, it’s all about the music to me. At a certain point during the weekend I noticed her trotting up to my bedroom, only to later find that the latest victim at the hands of her jaws was my Dermalogica face-wash. She topped it off by leaving her hair all over my favourite skinny jeans.

Tanning next to my pool was another ill-fated move on my part. Zsa Zsa didn’t take kindly to this, and sneaked up next to me, very strategically. I now have the silhouette of a bulldog across my stomach.

I’m obviously not enough of a man for her.

Unfortunately her cold shoulder made me notice how lonely she can get, and I feel bad about the fact that I can’t always be there for her. My solution is to start exclusively inviting single moms for coffee at my place. This way we both get a play-date. Just look at me putting mine’s happiness before mine...

And James Blunt was awesome by the way. Hopefully she feels different about Coldplay.

I purposefully did very little thinking with regards to rugby, however I couldn’t suppress it completely. I reckon I might find myself crouching on the other side of the scrum for a couple of weeks, what with Deon Stegmann’s broken cheekbone and Derick Kuun’s retirement. I’m only speculating here, but if it were to happen, I’ll be looking forward to the challenge. I still think it’s preferential for a modern loose-forward to be able to play all of the positions.

I also think that, no matter how you look at it , the best team in the world lost their last two games before the World Cup. Nuff said.

I just want to backpedal a bit to Derick Kuun. He addressed us on Monday morning in the light of said retirement. I regret that we are losing such a tremendous team player, of course, but what I regret more is that I’m not going to have that guy around me every day anymore.

I hated his guts when I started playing. In euphemistic terms, I thought he was an idiot. Little did I know that, years down the line, he would become my roommate and ultimately one of my few good friends. All I know is that he’s leaving the Bulls in a better state than he found it, and that’s what it’s all about. I salute you, champ.

We are all living on borrowed time with each other and everything else - Derick’s departure just goes to show that. You never know what’s going to happen next, and you realise that control is the biggest illusion of them all. The only thing you can control to a certain extent is your own mindset. That’s the only thing that’s yours to decide upon, and it helps getting it right.

I struggle sometimes - my biggest obstacles being selfishness and a general apathy. I’m thinking the key is finding something worth protecting and worth standing for, inspired by someone else.

That one came from a deeper place, but I don’t always like to give that stuff away. But stick around in the future, I might do it little by little.

We’ve got the Sharks this weekend at Loftus, so I’m going to be putting most of my thoughts into that. And spare me some of yours - I might find myself in uncharted waters. I don’t care though, whatever the team needs.

Let the boys play.

Jenny cancels out all the James Blunt moments. I tried singing "You're beautiful" to Zsa Zsa to get into her good books. My flowering Jasmine payed the price.