Hey So here we are, Tuesday afternoon my time, following on from the busiest 5 days in human history. Yes, this is not going to be a reflective or introspective look into any sort of human nature. It is merely going to be an account (in part) of the last 5 days (in part). This is a diary, after all, and the time for thoughtful intuitive discourse can occur at any stage... So yeah... Friday dawned in the bleak downpour of early Cape Town spring. It was a long weekend, Friday itself being Heritage Day for all us .za boys and girls. My alma mater, the mighy Edgemead High School, hosted its Matric Farewell Dance - Senior Prom in Americanese - two nights prior, and Friday was the day set aside for the annual Matric Dance fashion show. I don't know if this is a worldwide occurrence, but after Prom Night all the matrics (seniors, yes?) put on a fashion show so everyone can see the girls resplendent in their ball gowns, and the boys in top hats and tails or tuxedos. It is a big event for us in our little neck of the woods; in fact, the dance itself, which is held at the school, is a veritable Oscars, with a good few thousand onlookers (other grades from the school, parents, siblings, friends etc) pitching up at the school to ooh and aah and take photos of the seniors arriving in their limosines and all tarted up to the nines as they walk from the cars up the red carpet and into the school hall. It's good for them, I think - really does make the matrics themselves feel very special. The original purpose of the fashion shows was to accomplish this very thing, since the dance is a closed affair, so anyone who wanted to see what was worn and who went with whom could go to the shows. These days, the red carpet itself draws about as many people as the shows do. In my day, way back in 1993, the only people who pitched up at the school were the parents and siblings, who would race there from the pre-party/photo sessions to take photos of their kids arriving at the venue. These days, as I said, the school is a no-drive zone for several blocks and everyone who is anyone is out there watching the arrivals. The school has capitalised on this to a point by putting up grandstands in the road and people pitch up about an hour before the first arrivals are expected to get good seats. It's a major event, I tell you. To cut a long story short, I was the DJ for the fashion shows on Friday for the 9th year runnning. It was a long day, with only one rehearsal taking place asome 10 days prior, and three full houses on Friday itself. So off I went with all my notes and a bag full of CDs which the guys had chosen to walk down the ramp to and did my bit. It was good. Not as good as last year, but good. Okay, I am in kind-of a major rush here, since I am due back at the Division's new-drug study site in 5 minutes' time, so this entry will be updated fully tomorrow, if anyone cares to read further (and even if they don't). Tomorrow's part II will entail an evening with The Punisher and a large slab of lemon meringue pie, and a night of moshing action with none other than The Offspring, supported by the Nude Girls as mentioned about 20 entries ago. If that doesn't strike your fancy, well, I will probably update again on Thursday, spitting boiling vitriol at Richard Branson's Virgin Active gyms here in south africa, from whom I resign membership on Thursday morning, 30 days before I start at Planet Fitness.