EXAMS
At South African universities (which they call 'varsity' instead of 'college') all your big papers and tests are graded by an external examiner from outside the university along with your professor. It seems unfair to me, because usually your professor will know what you have not covered in the class and won't mark you down if you don't include that info, but a stranger won't know what has and hasn't been covered.
Anyway, the point is that as I turned in my take-home exam essays yesterday I noticed that Pierre de Vos, a prof from another university who I cited extensively in my essays, was actually my external examiner. Awkward.
MOVIES
Brown Sugar has got to be one of the absolute dopest movies ever. Besides Sanaa Lathan being my favorite actress, that movie has an infinite number of hilarious line and a perfect story. Plus, how can you go wrong with Mos Def?
MUSIC
How come everything Wyclef does is just so good? I'm not exactly down with him being all "I'm from Haiti, so I've automatically got street cred" and all that. But apart from anything about reputation or cockiness, his songs consistently rock...in a hip hop sort of way, of course.
REFUGEES
The church has decided to limit the capacity of the shelter at 81 people. But there are still 10,000 people on the streets in Cape Town alone. The Anglican church leaders for South Africa have decided to follow the government's lead in saying that no more more non-government shelters should be set up, because reintegration should be the strategy now. But reintegration is a goal not a strategy. How are you going to magically reintegrate people back into communities when the whole reason that they had to leave their homes in the first place is because their lives were threatened by their neighbors??? People need homes, jobs, paperwork to return to their home countries, etc. The only way to help them get that is to allow them a safe place to stay at night and during the day to actively offer them tools to get jobs, homes, paperwork etc so that they can reintegrate....or relocate. Shelters are a stepping stone, and cutting them out of the process will not help.
I felt so bad last night because there was a torrential downpour that lasted for hours. It was harder than any rain that Seattle has ever seen. The refugees who are still sleeping on the streets and in the government's tent city must have been miserable. And this morning the refugees who were waiting in line outside Home Affairs so that they could get paperwork were attacked by locals. Knowledge, a man who has been staying at our shelter, along with several other guys were beat up. One was stabbed. And all this right in front of a government building.
What is also scary is the prevalence of the hatred towards the immigrants. My mother volunteers at a low-income school during the week and one of the little boys there, who is usually sweet and well-behaved, was walking around talking about how all the "dirty immigrants need to get out of South Africa." The boy is probably from Khayelitsha or one of the townships close by, and that is probably what everyone around him has been saying. How do you deal with that though? How do you convince people that the immigrants are not taking their jobs, and that they shouldn't hate them? There doesn't seem to be any answers. If I were an immigrant and I couldn't afford to live anywhere but in the townships, I would leave the country. I don't want them to have to do that, because often they are in South Africa because their home country is impoverished, war-torn, or run by an oppressive dictator. But I also don't think that their neighborhoods are going to be safe any time this year. Maybe life under Mugabe in Zimbabwe will be better than risking being murdered in South Africa.
Interestingly, I suddenly don't count as an immigrant any more. My SA citizenship was just confirmed. Of course I'm not the type of immigrant that anyone has animosity to anyway. It's all about the Africans.
"So what's the difference between rap and hip hop? It's simple. It's like saying you love somebody and being in love with somebody. Rap is only a word."
-Brown Sugar
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Zillah...not as in E-Wa
I have never had an oral exam before today. My christening went fairly well, but the question and answer portion of it went a bit awry at the end when I decided to start a long babbling monologue. C'est la vie. My Human Rights Law prof should have known better than to ask me my views on the US Supreme Court as the last wrap-up question.
Speaking of human rights in action, the church shelter was a lot more full today. Another 40 people arrived last night and over the course of the day, so now there are around 80. My favorites are the family from Burundi. They have two little boys and one baby. One of the boys name is Mustafa and he's pretty feisty, and pretty adorable. The parents can't speak English completely fluently, but the husband did his best to tell me about Burundi's current government, which was interesting. Burundi is like a twin to Rwanda and they have had the same type of power-struggles between Tutsis and Hutus. Right now the president is Hutu. I feel so bad for the family though, because they had to spend two nights sleeping in the bush before they somehow made it to the church (in the city). Now the three children have scabies, but I think they will be getting treatment tomorrow.
Mayor Helen Zillah has shown herself to be somewhat of a crackpot regarding the whole refugee situation. Even though the emergency shelters thrown together by the city are filled to capacity, not nice at all, and turning people away, Mayor Zillah was still quoted saying that the refugees need to leave the informal church shelters because those are needed for events like weddings. Give me a break. It's not even a good wedding season. There are 10,000 refugees sleeping on the streets. Once those are taken care of by the city shelters, only then should the informal ones start closing down.
My Cousin: "Why are you painting your nails black? You're going to look goth."
Me: "Auntie Lynn paints her nails black, and she doesn't look goth."
My Cousin: "Well, then I suppose it is fine because Auntie Lynn is a MILF."
Speaking of human rights in action, the church shelter was a lot more full today. Another 40 people arrived last night and over the course of the day, so now there are around 80. My favorites are the family from Burundi. They have two little boys and one baby. One of the boys name is Mustafa and he's pretty feisty, and pretty adorable. The parents can't speak English completely fluently, but the husband did his best to tell me about Burundi's current government, which was interesting. Burundi is like a twin to Rwanda and they have had the same type of power-struggles between Tutsis and Hutus. Right now the president is Hutu. I feel so bad for the family though, because they had to spend two nights sleeping in the bush before they somehow made it to the church (in the city). Now the three children have scabies, but I think they will be getting treatment tomorrow.
Mayor Helen Zillah has shown herself to be somewhat of a crackpot regarding the whole refugee situation. Even though the emergency shelters thrown together by the city are filled to capacity, not nice at all, and turning people away, Mayor Zillah was still quoted saying that the refugees need to leave the informal church shelters because those are needed for events like weddings. Give me a break. It's not even a good wedding season. There are 10,000 refugees sleeping on the streets. Once those are taken care of by the city shelters, only then should the informal ones start closing down.
My Cousin: "Why are you painting your nails black? You're going to look goth."
Me: "Auntie Lynn paints her nails black, and she doesn't look goth."
My Cousin: "Well, then I suppose it is fine because Auntie Lynn is a MILF."
Monday, May 26, 2008
Butter
South Africans are absolutely crazy about their butter. It goes on EVERYTHING. Having a hot dog? Add some butter. Peanut butter and jelly? Don't forget the butter. Ham sandwich? Butter.
And I am not even talking about spreading a thin layer of butter on things. They are practically cutting slices off of the stick of butter to add on to their sandwiches. My cousin made me a ham and cucumber sandwich awhile ago and the butter was so thick I thought it was cheese. I nearly threw up when it turned out to be LARD. There is really nothing grosser than eating cucumber slathered in gelatinous greasiness.
Still, their cholesterol-heavy obsession is not exactly always so bad. For instance, the hot dog thing. I never would've thought of it, but putting butter on along with ketchup is so yummy because the hot dog melts the butter and it mixes with the ketchup and is fairly divine.
Don't even get me started on the amount of sugar South Africans use in tea and coffee. 4 teaspoons is the absolute minimum. How they are not more obese than Americans is beyond me.
Me reading aloud from a questionaire at a church shelter for displaced immigrants: "Are you missing any family members?"
Refugee from Zimbabwe: "Yes, you know, am so sad and I miss them so much everyday because both my wife and parents are back in Zim."
And I am not even talking about spreading a thin layer of butter on things. They are practically cutting slices off of the stick of butter to add on to their sandwiches. My cousin made me a ham and cucumber sandwich awhile ago and the butter was so thick I thought it was cheese. I nearly threw up when it turned out to be LARD. There is really nothing grosser than eating cucumber slathered in gelatinous greasiness.
Still, their cholesterol-heavy obsession is not exactly always so bad. For instance, the hot dog thing. I never would've thought of it, but putting butter on along with ketchup is so yummy because the hot dog melts the butter and it mixes with the ketchup and is fairly divine.
Don't even get me started on the amount of sugar South Africans use in tea and coffee. 4 teaspoons is the absolute minimum. How they are not more obese than Americans is beyond me.
Me reading aloud from a questionaire at a church shelter for displaced immigrants: "Are you missing any family members?"
Refugee from Zimbabwe: "Yes, you know, am so sad and I miss them so much everyday because both my wife and parents are back in Zim."
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Bring back Nelson Mandela, bring him back home to Soweto, I want to see him walking down the streets of South Africa...TOMORROW.
Okay, well not to Soweto exactly....but "back to the public sphere where he feels able to speak out against all the violence without stepping on the toes of Mbeki and Zuma and all the second generation leaders of the new South Africa" didn't fit nicely into the song.
And now onto things much less important and worldly...
I have another serious issue, and that is that because I am not uber close with any of my UCT friends or on a share-all basis with my cousins, I don't get the advice that I usually depend on to bring order to my life. Maybe that sounds bad, like I can't function on my own and need to depend on others, but I actually think it is very normal, if nothing else. There is always something to be added with a second opinion. And I can get so stubborn about things that I often need the view of an independent outsider (well, someone with my best interests at heart) who can be like, "dear, I actually think that you are being way too hard on your sister because its seems pretty clear that the reason she called you a bitch is because you ignored her for the past two weeks without realizing it" or something of that nature. [totally fabricated example, btdubs]
Anyway, the point is that it has gotten to that point where my own instincts are too muddled and confused for me to follow them. I am too wrapped up in the whole situation to understand why certain things are happening, how much I have contributed to them, and if I am being treated unfairly or not. I know I am a stubbornstubborn person and I always want people to recognize that I am right and, which usually ends up clouding my vision so that when I am actually wrong I don't even realize it. So recently, I have been trying hard to be fair and balanced but I can't tell if I am accidentally pulling a Fox News and putting my own biased twist on events, or if Josh is really being an unforgivable jackass.
Another thing to be said is that I am actually reluctant to write about this, because it is hard to understand without all the background...which I can't adequately give. It's also hard to understand exactly how things are from one story. I live a happy life, really. But if I am motivated to write, its usually going to be regarding something that put my panties in a twist. Pshaw. He really does make me very happy, and though it sounds crazy, I have wanted to be with him since I was ten years old (and vice versa, except that he is a year older, so he was 11) which makes things special in a way, and makes me unwilling to consider ending things.
That being said, just listen to what an ASS he was tonight:
All the familia went to see Indiana Jones tonight, except for his people. But, being the logistics queen that I am I quite nearly had it organized that the portion of the family that lives on his side of town would go pick him up so that he could come with too. Except I suppose I am not such a queen, because the plan bottomed out when the ones who were going to bring him had to leave without him, because he took too long to get home from golf. But instead of just saying, ah well, too bad the people who were going to do me a favor by giving me a ride had to leave before I could get back, he started a major vendetta...something about how it was their duty to wait for him and it was rude of them to leave without him. When they were the ones doing him a favor in the first place.
Then, he gets his friend to drive him all the way to the theater anyway. Nice, I suppose, because he mainly came to see me. But, not really that nice because he and his friend got tickets without even telling me that they were there, and without bothering to try and get seats so that I could sit with them too (theaters in SA assign you specific seats). Then he calls me and says he's at the theater, but he is not willing to even talk to any of the family because he is so mad about what happened. .How he implicated my immediate family in this when all we did was invite him to come is beyond me. We weren't the ones who left without him. Regardless, I once again masterfully worked things out so that I could sit with him in the movie. But after the movie, when the rest of the family congregated around us he stalked off without even saying goodbye to me, just because he wanted to make a point to them. The stupid thing is that he could have still made his twisted, undeserved point by being nice to me and pointedly ignoring the rest of them, but no....as soon as we're out of the theater, he decides to treat me like I am part of the enemy.
And he knows how important goodbyes are to me. Really important. Especially since I won't see him again until next weekend. Goodbyes = closure and warmth and affirmation. I even walked after him with one of my cousins and stopped him to say, "don't I get a goodbye." He just turned away. I hate to be one of thoooose girls and make excuses for him, but part of me wants to. I know he isn't mad at me, and didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. But, at the same time, that was so messed up and represents him prioritizing some stupid fight over treating me well. Still, I want him to be better, and I don't really want him to disappear from my life altogether. I don't know if I should get him to apologize for being a rude prick and make sure he doesn't pull bullshit like that again, or if its a lost cause and I should dump him.
And now onto things much less important and worldly...
I have another serious issue, and that is that because I am not uber close with any of my UCT friends or on a share-all basis with my cousins, I don't get the advice that I usually depend on to bring order to my life. Maybe that sounds bad, like I can't function on my own and need to depend on others, but I actually think it is very normal, if nothing else. There is always something to be added with a second opinion. And I can get so stubborn about things that I often need the view of an independent outsider (well, someone with my best interests at heart) who can be like, "dear, I actually think that you are being way too hard on your sister because its seems pretty clear that the reason she called you a bitch is because you ignored her for the past two weeks without realizing it" or something of that nature. [totally fabricated example, btdubs]
Anyway, the point is that it has gotten to that point where my own instincts are too muddled and confused for me to follow them. I am too wrapped up in the whole situation to understand why certain things are happening, how much I have contributed to them, and if I am being treated unfairly or not. I know I am a stubbornstubborn person and I always want people to recognize that I am right and, which usually ends up clouding my vision so that when I am actually wrong I don't even realize it. So recently, I have been trying hard to be fair and balanced but I can't tell if I am accidentally pulling a Fox News and putting my own biased twist on events, or if Josh is really being an unforgivable jackass.
Another thing to be said is that I am actually reluctant to write about this, because it is hard to understand without all the background...which I can't adequately give. It's also hard to understand exactly how things are from one story. I live a happy life, really. But if I am motivated to write, its usually going to be regarding something that put my panties in a twist. Pshaw. He really does make me very happy, and though it sounds crazy, I have wanted to be with him since I was ten years old (and vice versa, except that he is a year older, so he was 11) which makes things special in a way, and makes me unwilling to consider ending things.
That being said, just listen to what an ASS he was tonight:
All the familia went to see Indiana Jones tonight, except for his people. But, being the logistics queen that I am I quite nearly had it organized that the portion of the family that lives on his side of town would go pick him up so that he could come with too. Except I suppose I am not such a queen, because the plan bottomed out when the ones who were going to bring him had to leave without him, because he took too long to get home from golf. But instead of just saying, ah well, too bad the people who were going to do me a favor by giving me a ride had to leave before I could get back, he started a major vendetta...something about how it was their duty to wait for him and it was rude of them to leave without him. When they were the ones doing him a favor in the first place.
Then, he gets his friend to drive him all the way to the theater anyway. Nice, I suppose, because he mainly came to see me. But, not really that nice because he and his friend got tickets without even telling me that they were there, and without bothering to try and get seats so that I could sit with them too (theaters in SA assign you specific seats). Then he calls me and says he's at the theater, but he is not willing to even talk to any of the family because he is so mad about what happened. .How he implicated my immediate family in this when all we did was invite him to come is beyond me. We weren't the ones who left without him. Regardless, I once again masterfully worked things out so that I could sit with him in the movie. But after the movie, when the rest of the family congregated around us he stalked off without even saying goodbye to me, just because he wanted to make a point to them. The stupid thing is that he could have still made his twisted, undeserved point by being nice to me and pointedly ignoring the rest of them, but no....as soon as we're out of the theater, he decides to treat me like I am part of the enemy.
And he knows how important goodbyes are to me. Really important. Especially since I won't see him again until next weekend. Goodbyes = closure and warmth and affirmation. I even walked after him with one of my cousins and stopped him to say, "don't I get a goodbye." He just turned away. I hate to be one of thoooose girls and make excuses for him, but part of me wants to. I know he isn't mad at me, and didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. But, at the same time, that was so messed up and represents him prioritizing some stupid fight over treating me well. Still, I want him to be better, and I don't really want him to disappear from my life altogether. I don't know if I should get him to apologize for being a rude prick and make sure he doesn't pull bullshit like that again, or if its a lost cause and I should dump him.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
People are going ape shit. I have never been so frustrated with poor people. I am usually on the side of the revolution...the fight against the oppressor. But who exactly had the ass-hat idea that foreigners, who are generally fairly impoverished themselves are the new oppressors. It disgusts me to see the people running out of tiny ruined shops with their arms full of loot because their faces are so consistently euphoric. And the people whose shops they have ruined are hardly rich enough to bounce back without years and years of work and luck. Luck that they won't have in this climate of spreading xenophobia.
The violence is also very localized. It's in the townships and poor areas. I didn't even know about it for almost a week after it started because of my pampered Rondebosch existence (plus, since its exams now, I didn't even have time to open the paper or turn on the news). It's fairly amazing how it spread from Jo-burg to Durban to Cape Town. I understand that people who are already simmering with resentment can see that in Jo-burg they identified a certain enemy and struck against it and then have the bright idea to do the same. But seriously, I think its suspicious. I am almost convinced that there is a "third front" that the news has been talking about. Some group or person who is orchestrating the violence.
Fuck, though. Intra-ghetto revolutions aren't going to get anybody anywhere. It doesn't even make sense. I am so not condoning larger violence, but if you want to really get somewhere you have to find a bigger fish to fry than the Somali down the road who had the good fortune to start a small tuck shop.
What is with people today? They are now so separated from "the struggle" (against apartheid) that they have the gall to compare their ludicrous riots to the old ANC-type uprisings. Open a fucking book or consult a fucking elder. Don't shoot your neighbor and call it a righteous revolt.
The violence is also very localized. It's in the townships and poor areas. I didn't even know about it for almost a week after it started because of my pampered Rondebosch existence (plus, since its exams now, I didn't even have time to open the paper or turn on the news). It's fairly amazing how it spread from Jo-burg to Durban to Cape Town. I understand that people who are already simmering with resentment can see that in Jo-burg they identified a certain enemy and struck against it and then have the bright idea to do the same. But seriously, I think its suspicious. I am almost convinced that there is a "third front" that the news has been talking about. Some group or person who is orchestrating the violence.
Fuck, though. Intra-ghetto revolutions aren't going to get anybody anywhere. It doesn't even make sense. I am so not condoning larger violence, but if you want to really get somewhere you have to find a bigger fish to fry than the Somali down the road who had the good fortune to start a small tuck shop.
What is with people today? They are now so separated from "the struggle" (against apartheid) that they have the gall to compare their ludicrous riots to the old ANC-type uprisings. Open a fucking book or consult a fucking elder. Don't shoot your neighbor and call it a righteous revolt.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Kindergarten teachers change the world.
Oh and guess who saved herself from a cold because she took Airborne and drank tea all day? Me. I tell you, that shit works. I was so stuffed up on Wednesday that my head felt like an air bubble and I used half a toilet paper roll blowing my nose, but after my rooibos+Airborne flip cup regimen I woke up today without even the hint of a cold.
Psych 101+Rwanda
Today.
I woke up to beautiful sun and warm weather only to not set one foot outside all day long. Don't you just love those days? I know I do. Snap. Especially when I haven't even had a chance to shower. In three days. I am not even kidding. The semester system is brutal like middle school gym. You know...boring at first. A lot of time spent sitting on your butt on the floor listening to lectures. And all of a sudden one day you have to dash off and run a mile as quick as you can. Or in this case, all of a sudden all of your term papers are due and you have to write three in a row.
On top of all this, I have a serious problem that may in fact demand psychiatric help. I am overly empathetic in the extreme. Case in point: When I was watching the Manchester v. Chelsea game last night I just about died when the Chelsea captain missed his goal in the shoot out. He just completely choked because he slipped on the grass. And it cost them the game. I nearly cried. I bet he felt horrible....but the thing is, I'm not even necessarily a Chelsea fan. I like Arsenal. Why do I waste all this emotion on soccer stars who I had never even heard of before. I am freaking writing a 30 pg paper on the Rwandan genocide and these children whose mothers and fathers decided to kill them in 1994....does that make me cry? No. I type away like nobody's business. But privileged soccer stars living cushy existences who miss their penalty shots=waterworks.
Somebody should probably study me.
Or put me in therapy like I said.
I was actually in therapy once, after Olive died. It was interesting, really. Right out of the movies. There was a lot of nodding and "how did that make you feel?" and "hmmm"ing on her part. She never said anything else. It was so silent, and awkward with her just staring at me over her glasses that I would just babble on and on and on. Which, in retrospect was probably the point. Expensive babbling though. Serves my parents right for demanding that I see a shrink rather than actually discussing my "issues" with me themselves. It's funny actually, because I didn't really have issues. I just hated being in Baltimore because I didn't know anyone there. And since my best friend had just died, I felt that I deserved to yell at my parents for taking me away from the PNW and everything familiar. The only issue I have with the whole death thing is that I don't have serious issues at all. I miss her of course, but I don't think about her often. I think it is a mild form of denial, where what I don't think about can't hurt me and so I don't think about it.But I have no idea....maybe I would know if my therapist had ever said anything besides "hmmm." It's really very easy. And I honestly don't have any real build up of whatever that you always hear about with people who are repressing things.
Weird.
Anyway, did you know that the current Rwandan government is absolutely ludicrous? I had no idea. Just think about it. The Hutu majority makes up over 85% of the population. In 1994 they committed a genocide in response to various things, but primarily because they became convinced that the Tutsi-RPF who had just invaded were going to take back power and oppress them once again. So now, the genocide has been ended, but the Tutsi-RPF once again has all the political power in the country. And they have banned all other political parties. They also had the bright idea to punish every single person (Hutus) who participated in the genocide, even if they only damaged property. But they refuse to hold accountable the Tutsi RPF members and supporters that massacred Hutus both in 1994, in the refugee camps in 1995 and in Zaire in 1996. So what is the moral of the story here? That the Tutsi minority captured total power and now are going to institute a crack addict form of victors justice, and risk inciting the vast majority of the country back to violence. The worst part is that the entire world has ignored the fact that the RPF government has a human rights record nearly as bad as Mugabe's in Zimbabwe. They don't call the RPF Africa's Israel for nothing.
I woke up to beautiful sun and warm weather only to not set one foot outside all day long. Don't you just love those days? I know I do. Snap. Especially when I haven't even had a chance to shower. In three days. I am not even kidding. The semester system is brutal like middle school gym. You know...boring at first. A lot of time spent sitting on your butt on the floor listening to lectures. And all of a sudden one day you have to dash off and run a mile as quick as you can. Or in this case, all of a sudden all of your term papers are due and you have to write three in a row.
On top of all this, I have a serious problem that may in fact demand psychiatric help. I am overly empathetic in the extreme. Case in point: When I was watching the Manchester v. Chelsea game last night I just about died when the Chelsea captain missed his goal in the shoot out. He just completely choked because he slipped on the grass. And it cost them the game. I nearly cried. I bet he felt horrible....but the thing is, I'm not even necessarily a Chelsea fan. I like Arsenal. Why do I waste all this emotion on soccer stars who I had never even heard of before. I am freaking writing a 30 pg paper on the Rwandan genocide and these children whose mothers and fathers decided to kill them in 1994....does that make me cry? No. I type away like nobody's business. But privileged soccer stars living cushy existences who miss their penalty shots=waterworks.
Somebody should probably study me.
Or put me in therapy like I said.
I was actually in therapy once, after Olive died. It was interesting, really. Right out of the movies. There was a lot of nodding and "how did that make you feel?" and "hmmm"ing on her part. She never said anything else. It was so silent, and awkward with her just staring at me over her glasses that I would just babble on and on and on. Which, in retrospect was probably the point. Expensive babbling though. Serves my parents right for demanding that I see a shrink rather than actually discussing my "issues" with me themselves. It's funny actually, because I didn't really have issues. I just hated being in Baltimore because I didn't know anyone there. And since my best friend had just died, I felt that I deserved to yell at my parents for taking me away from the PNW and everything familiar. The only issue I have with the whole death thing is that I don't have serious issues at all. I miss her of course, but I don't think about her often. I think it is a mild form of denial, where what I don't think about can't hurt me and so I don't think about it.But I have no idea....maybe I would know if my therapist had ever said anything besides "hmmm." It's really very easy. And I honestly don't have any real build up of whatever that you always hear about with people who are repressing things.
Weird.
Anyway, did you know that the current Rwandan government is absolutely ludicrous? I had no idea. Just think about it. The Hutu majority makes up over 85% of the population. In 1994 they committed a genocide in response to various things, but primarily because they became convinced that the Tutsi-RPF who had just invaded were going to take back power and oppress them once again. So now, the genocide has been ended, but the Tutsi-RPF once again has all the political power in the country. And they have banned all other political parties. They also had the bright idea to punish every single person (Hutus) who participated in the genocide, even if they only damaged property. But they refuse to hold accountable the Tutsi RPF members and supporters that massacred Hutus both in 1994, in the refugee camps in 1995 and in Zaire in 1996. So what is the moral of the story here? That the Tutsi minority captured total power and now are going to institute a crack addict form of victors justice, and risk inciting the vast majority of the country back to violence. The worst part is that the entire world has ignored the fact that the RPF government has a human rights record nearly as bad as Mugabe's in Zimbabwe. They don't call the RPF Africa's Israel for nothing.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Carjacking
Getting hijacked is quite common in South Africa, and you are lucky if you survive it. My professor got hijacked the other day I found out...I think someone Mike Tyson-ed his ear during it, because it was all bandaged up right after the incident.
What the carjackers like to do (apparently) is throw an egg onto your windshield, which people naturally react to by putting on their wipers. Then that makes them completely blind when it spreads the egg all around and makes it white, so then they have to pull over. That's when they come with guns and knives and whatever else, and steal your car...and hopefully not you.
So this one guy devised an ingenious little operation where he hooked up a gas can inside the boot and added a flame thrower to his car. When he pressed a petal right by the drivers door, flame shot out the side of his car...hypothetically roasting the unsuspecting carjacker. Unfortunately, he got a little antsy when a police officer was walking up to his car from behind and stepped on it, lighting the cop on fire. Vavoom. Crime fighting Capetonians.
What the carjackers like to do (apparently) is throw an egg onto your windshield, which people naturally react to by putting on their wipers. Then that makes them completely blind when it spreads the egg all around and makes it white, so then they have to pull over. That's when they come with guns and knives and whatever else, and steal your car...and hopefully not you.
So this one guy devised an ingenious little operation where he hooked up a gas can inside the boot and added a flame thrower to his car. When he pressed a petal right by the drivers door, flame shot out the side of his car...hypothetically roasting the unsuspecting carjacker. Unfortunately, he got a little antsy when a police officer was walking up to his car from behind and stepped on it, lighting the cop on fire. Vavoom. Crime fighting Capetonians.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Raindrops and roses, and whiskers on kittens...
Things I miss about Seattle:
Rain
People I know
Bagels and lox
The Senate (the band)
Riding in cars in the rain...there's something so specific-feeling about that
People who don't care what they look like
Umbrellas and boots and fleeces and raincoats
Buildings with heat (they don't believe in that here...and its winter now which is actually cold like the wolf since you never warm up because indoors is the same temp as outdoors)
My cats and dog (Rory, Roo and Bo)
Grey's Anatomy and every other American TV show that is 6 months ahead in the US
Not being seen as a representation of Bush and the Iraq War
Ketchup instead of tomato sauce
Krispy Kremes
Real dill pickles
celery and ranch
pizza with actual pizza sauce
Girls who wear tennis shoes sometimes
Movie rental places with movies made before 2003
Pride and Prejudice (BBC version)
The Usual Suspects
The Challengers
Sour apple martinis
People who do not have domestic helpers (aka maids)
Internet and phone time that isn't so expensive that I feel endlessly guilty about using it
Herbal Essences!!!
Christmas lights
Politics
Recycling
Rain
People I know
Bagels and lox
The Senate (the band)
Riding in cars in the rain...there's something so specific-feeling about that
People who don't care what they look like
Umbrellas and boots and fleeces and raincoats
Buildings with heat (they don't believe in that here...and its winter now which is actually cold like the wolf since you never warm up because indoors is the same temp as outdoors)
My cats and dog (Rory, Roo and Bo)
Grey's Anatomy and every other American TV show that is 6 months ahead in the US
Not being seen as a representation of Bush and the Iraq War
Ketchup instead of tomato sauce
Krispy Kremes
Real dill pickles
celery and ranch
pizza with actual pizza sauce
Girls who wear tennis shoes sometimes
Movie rental places with movies made before 2003
Pride and Prejudice (BBC version)
The Usual Suspects
The Challengers
Sour apple martinis
People who do not have domestic helpers (aka maids)
Internet and phone time that isn't so expensive that I feel endlessly guilty about using it
Herbal Essences!!!
Christmas lights
Politics
Recycling
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Obama+Edwards=Lekka Ticket
Yay! Edwards endorsement=unstoppable. I actually think that he would make a solid running mate for Obama. Granted, he didn't help much last time, but the biggest problem in '04 was that nobody was passionate about the democratic ticket. Obama has already cornered the market on passion and charisma, and brought in the two notoriously non-voting Dem voting blocks that can deliver the presidency (young voters and minorities). Now all he needs is an earnest partner who can deliver the non-black portion of the working class that Clinton says belongs to her, which is Edwards exactly.
The funniest part of the CNN coverage was the little Breaking News headline bar that they keep scrolling on the bottom of the page. It kept saying, "Breaking News: Edwards pulled out of the Democratic race in January"...no, really?? And,"Breaking News: Edwards left the race with 26 delegates." Scintillating coverage.
South African phrase of the week: "lekka" meaning cool
As "in long live the madre, the lekka lekka madre" (this year's mothers day card...this is what happens when two sisters are forced to compromise on one line).
The funniest part of the CNN coverage was the little Breaking News headline bar that they keep scrolling on the bottom of the page. It kept saying, "Breaking News: Edwards pulled out of the Democratic race in January"...no, really?? And,"Breaking News: Edwards left the race with 26 delegates." Scintillating coverage.
South African phrase of the week: "lekka" meaning cool
As "in long live the madre, the lekka lekka madre" (this year's mothers day card...this is what happens when two sisters are forced to compromise on one line).
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Christmas in May
You're probably wondering why I am constantly on about electricity recently. I've never showed an interest in it before (excluding last year's Pink House Debate on whether it cost more to heat water for tea in the microwave or on the stove--I am sure that it has to be the microwave that uses more power, right??)....well electricity has never THREATENED MY LIFE SO REGULARLY before.
First there were the weekly power cuts. Fine, but dangerous when the traffic lights all of a sudden stop working. Then, I got randomly stuck in an elevator. It lasted less than 3 minutes, but I am super claustrophobic, so I was already well on my way to hyperventilating. And now, I just got the hugest shock of my life. I was holding a string of Christmas lights and all of a sudden my whole body was jolting and crackling. In addition to the fact that South Africa doesn't have as many safety regulations or the culture of litigation that would ensure that Christmas lights don't shock the fuck out of small children during the Holiday season, South African sockets also produce double the output of American ones (220 volts versus 110). When my computer is charging and I brush my hand over the top I can feel the electric current.
I am telling you, South Africans are HARDCORE.
More clumsiness and pain for the day:
I stuck my hand in the dishwater and it came out with a huge gash. The worst part is that I somehow didn't even notice at first, so I tracked blood all over the kitchen and then had to clean all over again. Hot damn, though, I love band-aids like nothing else. In the spirit of Christmas lights, I chose a Santa one for tonight.
Essay of the week: Why the Rwandan Patriotic Front should not be portrayed as the hero in movies like Hotel Rwanda and Sometimes in April...because it misleads the impressionable Western public who then validate Rwanda's new (well, new in 1994) RPF-led government, and allow them to commit MORE mass killings along with Zaire (now Dem Rep of Congo). I love it when my essays make me feel all Zinn-ish.
Me: "Why is that woman wearing such a skanky tube top?"
My dad: "Because she is HOT."
He was actually referring to temp....no really.
First there were the weekly power cuts. Fine, but dangerous when the traffic lights all of a sudden stop working. Then, I got randomly stuck in an elevator. It lasted less than 3 minutes, but I am super claustrophobic, so I was already well on my way to hyperventilating. And now, I just got the hugest shock of my life. I was holding a string of Christmas lights and all of a sudden my whole body was jolting and crackling. In addition to the fact that South Africa doesn't have as many safety regulations or the culture of litigation that would ensure that Christmas lights don't shock the fuck out of small children during the Holiday season, South African sockets also produce double the output of American ones (220 volts versus 110). When my computer is charging and I brush my hand over the top I can feel the electric current.
I am telling you, South Africans are HARDCORE.
More clumsiness and pain for the day:
I stuck my hand in the dishwater and it came out with a huge gash. The worst part is that I somehow didn't even notice at first, so I tracked blood all over the kitchen and then had to clean all over again. Hot damn, though, I love band-aids like nothing else. In the spirit of Christmas lights, I chose a Santa one for tonight.
Essay of the week: Why the Rwandan Patriotic Front should not be portrayed as the hero in movies like Hotel Rwanda and Sometimes in April...because it misleads the impressionable Western public who then validate Rwanda's new (well, new in 1994) RPF-led government, and allow them to commit MORE mass killings along with Zaire (now Dem Rep of Congo). I love it when my essays make me feel all Zinn-ish.
Me: "Why is that woman wearing such a skanky tube top?"
My dad: "Because she is HOT."
He was actually referring to temp....no really.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Double Standard
I just got broken up with. Over an sms (text message). If any of my friends told me that I would be like, "are you kidding me?! He's not worth it anyway if he was too rude and cowardly to dump you in person." At the same time, I know he's not serious because he does this quite often when we fight and has never meant it before, which makes the phone thing less of a strike against him...sort of. On the other hand the fact that he breaks up with me every fucking time that he is upset with me--regardless of the fact that it only lasts for a few hour--counts as a strike against him in itself.
This time the break up was so hypocritical that it is mildly hilarious. He is upset because I did not call him all day. Specifically the sms said, "I hope whatever you're so busy with is important, cause it just cost you a relationship. I don't wanna be where I'm not needed or even missed. Bye." This is so entirely absurd that it deserves a list of reasons for its ridiculousness :
1) Yes, I did not call or sms today, but I had absolutely no airtime and he knew that. Furthermore, he did not bother to call or sms either, so his grounds for deserving to be broken up with apply just as much to him.
2) He cannot act like I have been slacking, because I was the last one to call. Yesterday, he did call a few times, but he was not uber nice on any of those occassions. Then, when he ran out of airtime, I called him using my dad's airtime which was a lot of effort. And the conversation was hardly worth it because he was being moody the whole time.
3) I invited him to come with my family to a rugby game yesterday which he didn't bother coming to even though I haven't seen him since wednesday, he wouldn't have had to pay, his ride was organized for him, and we would have been sitting in an entirely different section from my family...so it would have actually been quality time. So how can he say that I am the one acting like I don't need or miss him, when he won't come spend time with me when it costs him absolutely nothing???
3) Just the phrase "it just cost you a relationship" makes me writhe in anger. Like I should appreciate the fact that he is (was) dating me more than he needs to appreciate me.
Sometimes I just wish that he would grow the fuck up, because I may not be Katherine Hegel, but I am definitely worth enough to not deserve this bullshit. I already sent him an sms (with borrowed airtime) saying that he is being unfair, and I sent him a please call. I refuse to cater to his dramatics any more than that. If he wants me back, he better call and make up with me before I fall asleep tonight or he will have to super work his ass off to make me consider taking him back.
“Someone says, 'Boys will be boys'; he forgot to add, 'Boys will be men'."
-Napoleon Bonoparte.....nope, I think that the former is actually correct for the most part.
This time the break up was so hypocritical that it is mildly hilarious. He is upset because I did not call him all day. Specifically the sms said, "I hope whatever you're so busy with is important, cause it just cost you a relationship. I don't wanna be where I'm not needed or even missed. Bye." This is so entirely absurd that it deserves a list of reasons for its ridiculousness :
1) Yes, I did not call or sms today, but I had absolutely no airtime and he knew that. Furthermore, he did not bother to call or sms either, so his grounds for deserving to be broken up with apply just as much to him.
2) He cannot act like I have been slacking, because I was the last one to call. Yesterday, he did call a few times, but he was not uber nice on any of those occassions. Then, when he ran out of airtime, I called him using my dad's airtime which was a lot of effort. And the conversation was hardly worth it because he was being moody the whole time.
3) I invited him to come with my family to a rugby game yesterday which he didn't bother coming to even though I haven't seen him since wednesday, he wouldn't have had to pay, his ride was organized for him, and we would have been sitting in an entirely different section from my family...so it would have actually been quality time. So how can he say that I am the one acting like I don't need or miss him, when he won't come spend time with me when it costs him absolutely nothing???
3) Just the phrase "it just cost you a relationship" makes me writhe in anger. Like I should appreciate the fact that he is (was) dating me more than he needs to appreciate me.
Sometimes I just wish that he would grow the fuck up, because I may not be Katherine Hegel, but I am definitely worth enough to not deserve this bullshit. I already sent him an sms (with borrowed airtime) saying that he is being unfair, and I sent him a please call. I refuse to cater to his dramatics any more than that. If he wants me back, he better call and make up with me before I fall asleep tonight or he will have to super work his ass off to make me consider taking him back.
“Someone says, 'Boys will be boys'; he forgot to add, 'Boys will be men'."
-Napoleon Bonoparte.....nope, I think that the former is actually correct for the most part.
Friday, May 9, 2008
I want a vampire boyfriend too!
I have been reading my little sister's books again. Embarrassing perhaps, but teen girl lit is my guilty pleasure. Right now the books of choice are the uber popular Twilight series. In short, the heroine moves to a new school and falls in love with a vampire who is also attracted to her....and her blood. Every time they kiss he has to restrain himself from killing her. How hot is that?
Of course, my bf doesn't need to be a vampire to come close to killing me, and vice versa. Our relationship is basically a molotov cocktail. We are both stubborn beyond to belief, like to argue, and secretly love drama, which is an explosive combination. The world should be very very impressed that we made it to six months. Still, we're adorable together if I do say so myself. He needs someone to keep him in line...and I need someone who I don't feel has a weaker personality than me.
And! My hair is straight! It makes me feel almost like a different person. Its funny how much you can associate your identity with something as silly as hair. Now I look more white. Maybe that's why they are refusing to hurry up with my citizenship application. Hmph. Well, it will be curly again by monday...its already starting to get poofy and curly at the ends like messy Barbie hair. So, I will turn it into a fro by after the weekend and march into Home Affairs and demand a South African passport.
Plus has anyone noticed that Chris Matthews comes across as a huge dork? A loveable one, but a dork nonetheless.
"Senator Obama's support among hardworking Americans--white americans--is weakening again. [...] I have a much broader base." -Hillary Clinton
Of course, my bf doesn't need to be a vampire to come close to killing me, and vice versa. Our relationship is basically a molotov cocktail. We are both stubborn beyond to belief, like to argue, and secretly love drama, which is an explosive combination. The world should be very very impressed that we made it to six months. Still, we're adorable together if I do say so myself. He needs someone to keep him in line...and I need someone who I don't feel has a weaker personality than me.
And! My hair is straight! It makes me feel almost like a different person. Its funny how much you can associate your identity with something as silly as hair. Now I look more white. Maybe that's why they are refusing to hurry up with my citizenship application. Hmph. Well, it will be curly again by monday...its already starting to get poofy and curly at the ends like messy Barbie hair. So, I will turn it into a fro by after the weekend and march into Home Affairs and demand a South African passport.
Plus has anyone noticed that Chris Matthews comes across as a huge dork? A loveable one, but a dork nonetheless.
"Senator Obama's support among hardworking Americans--white americans--is weakening again. [...] I have a much broader base." -Hillary Clinton
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Say What?!
McCain called his wife a cunt? In public? How did I miss this? It is clearly true as well, because when asked at an Iowa town meeting if he truly CALLED HIS WIFE A CUNT, he responded "Now, now. You don't want to... Um, you know that's the great thing about town hall meetings, sir, but we really don't, there's people here who don't respect that kind of language. So I'll move on to the next questioner in the back." Wow. I personally would have just pulled a Clinton and denied the whole affair.
One things for certain, though. This means that there is no way in hades that Clinton voters are going to somehow flock to McCain once she drops out. Why? Let me reiterate...HE CALLED HIS WIFE A CUNT! And a trollop.
Me: "Do you have apple martinis?" ...for the millionth time
Waiter: "No" ...for the millionth time
One things for certain, though. This means that there is no way in hades that Clinton voters are going to somehow flock to McCain once she drops out. Why? Let me reiterate...HE CALLED HIS WIFE A CUNT! And a trollop.
Me: "Do you have apple martinis?" ...for the millionth time
Waiter: "No" ...for the millionth time
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Porn
Okay, why is pornography not held to the same restrictions as prostitution, liquor and drugs in South Africa? Damn it. I have to do a presentation on this tomorrow afternoon which I forgot about until just now. Let's think about this logically....without having read the court decision it does make sense that while drunken-ness (sometimes) and drug use are illegal prima facie, pornography is simply the illegal depiction of legal acts. Sex is perfectly legal within the privacy of your own home. If you can participate in it, and watch it live legally, it is somewhat of a stretch to criminalize the not-live watching of it. Drugs and alchohol, on the other hand, are illegal activities (again, sometimes) and you can watch people participating in use of those legally.
Apparently, Canada restricts obscene material based on a harm principle rather than privacy laws slash penumbras. So...drug use and alchohol and prostitution can result in death (prositution via std's???), whereas pornography will only really result in masturbation which can't produce death...only blindness. Ha ha. Not. This is ridiculous.
Never mind, I will deal with this in the morning.
In contrast to my rapidly declining interest and ability in law, my fly catching skills are experiencing unprecedented growth. I hate those little beasts that cart themselves around my room buzzing like they are on mini-motorcycles. Fuck motorcycles. They are death traps. And the silliest thing is that I wouldn't even be motivated to drag myself out of bed and go fly-hunting if they didn't insist on dive-bombing my face. There are a million other things to land on in my room. Why do they want to be intimate with me??? Hmph. Well now they know that coming near me is asking for execution. And just wait until I procure one of those electric fly zapper racquets. I will be utterly unstoppable.
Something silly: I always keep open a word document that I use to type words in that I feel have questionable spellings, so I can see if they are correct or if they get that little red underline. Racquet was one of those words that I had to check. It still looks suspicious to me, though.
"They should put the finger holes in the back of the bowling ball."
-Josh....I will never again let him mock me when I say dumb things.
Apparently, Canada restricts obscene material based on a harm principle rather than privacy laws slash penumbras. So...drug use and alchohol and prostitution can result in death (prositution via std's???), whereas pornography will only really result in masturbation which can't produce death...only blindness. Ha ha. Not. This is ridiculous.
Never mind, I will deal with this in the morning.
In contrast to my rapidly declining interest and ability in law, my fly catching skills are experiencing unprecedented growth. I hate those little beasts that cart themselves around my room buzzing like they are on mini-motorcycles. Fuck motorcycles. They are death traps. And the silliest thing is that I wouldn't even be motivated to drag myself out of bed and go fly-hunting if they didn't insist on dive-bombing my face. There are a million other things to land on in my room. Why do they want to be intimate with me??? Hmph. Well now they know that coming near me is asking for execution. And just wait until I procure one of those electric fly zapper racquets. I will be utterly unstoppable.
Something silly: I always keep open a word document that I use to type words in that I feel have questionable spellings, so I can see if they are correct or if they get that little red underline. Racquet was one of those words that I had to check. It still looks suspicious to me, though.
"They should put the finger holes in the back of the bowling ball."
-Josh....I will never again let him mock me when I say dumb things.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
It's been 2 years
May 2nd was Olive's death day, and it came and went for me without notable events slash emotions.
Brief Memories In Honor Of Her:
-On one birthday (possibly my 16th) she surprised me at my window in the morning with birthday scones and a fabulous seranade. And her actual presents were always adorable and amazing. One Christmas she made me a Build-a-Bear named Sondra (after one of our fake multiple personality characters), with a little recorded message that played when you squeezed the paw. The best present ever was probably the garden gnome she got me...I named it Knut. We both loved the movie Amelie, and I think that is where she got the idea. Sadly, the gnome is lost now. It got packed into a box (lovingly) during a mad rush to move out of the dorms junior year, and was never found. I am still confident that it will be though. I would take Knut with me anywhere. In short, sweetest friend ever.
-She also came up with the yummiest "gourmet" sandwiches ever. Don't even question. Just try them. The ultimate midnight snack sandwich: Wheat bread, roasted red peppers, pesto, feta, turkey, and dijon mustard. Amazing. Also delicious=open faced and toasted bread with dijon and mayo, thinlythinly sliced granny smith apple, red onion and (melted) havarti. She was very into gourmet as a food type and a general adjective for everything in her life. Her favorite magazine was Martha Stewart Living, and then it was Real Simple, and then Dwell. When you combine all those, it pretty much encapsulates a lot of her essence.
-She loved Jimmy Eat World, and LIT, and scruffy (slash artsy) boys.
-Once we spent almost an entire day in FAO Schwartz before it left downtown. How often do you find someone willing to play with you in giant stuffed animal piles and barbie rooms for hours?
-She biked to Ballard with me randomly one afternoon after school just because I liked a boy who lived there. It took something like 5 hours round trip and I think involved some creative story-telling to our parents, since we didn't tell them we were going anywhere, and once they found out, claimed that we had just ridden to U Village.
-For our abstract assignment in high school photography we spent a huge amount of time chasing a plastic bag that we found blowing in the wind on 35th St. Impossible. We never caught in on film. Then, the day after she died I saw a plastic bag blowing right outside the window of the fourth floor lounge in the Mercer dorms. How random is that? Now I always think of her when I see plastic bags blowing in the wind.
Brief Memories In Honor Of Her:
-On one birthday (possibly my 16th) she surprised me at my window in the morning with birthday scones and a fabulous seranade. And her actual presents were always adorable and amazing. One Christmas she made me a Build-a-Bear named Sondra (after one of our fake multiple personality characters), with a little recorded message that played when you squeezed the paw. The best present ever was probably the garden gnome she got me...I named it Knut. We both loved the movie Amelie, and I think that is where she got the idea. Sadly, the gnome is lost now. It got packed into a box (lovingly) during a mad rush to move out of the dorms junior year, and was never found. I am still confident that it will be though. I would take Knut with me anywhere. In short, sweetest friend ever.
-She also came up with the yummiest "gourmet" sandwiches ever. Don't even question. Just try them. The ultimate midnight snack sandwich: Wheat bread, roasted red peppers, pesto, feta, turkey, and dijon mustard. Amazing. Also delicious=open faced and toasted bread with dijon and mayo, thinlythinly sliced granny smith apple, red onion and (melted) havarti. She was very into gourmet as a food type and a general adjective for everything in her life. Her favorite magazine was Martha Stewart Living, and then it was Real Simple, and then Dwell. When you combine all those, it pretty much encapsulates a lot of her essence.
-She loved Jimmy Eat World, and LIT, and scruffy (slash artsy) boys.
-Once we spent almost an entire day in FAO Schwartz before it left downtown. How often do you find someone willing to play with you in giant stuffed animal piles and barbie rooms for hours?
-She biked to Ballard with me randomly one afternoon after school just because I liked a boy who lived there. It took something like 5 hours round trip and I think involved some creative story-telling to our parents, since we didn't tell them we were going anywhere, and once they found out, claimed that we had just ridden to U Village.
-For our abstract assignment in high school photography we spent a huge amount of time chasing a plastic bag that we found blowing in the wind on 35th St. Impossible. We never caught in on film. Then, the day after she died I saw a plastic bag blowing right outside the window of the fourth floor lounge in the Mercer dorms. How random is that? Now I always think of her when I see plastic bags blowing in the wind.
Friday, May 2, 2008
"Daughter, you suck"
My dad: "You can go sleep over at Josh's tonight, but I think that it is worrisome that you spend 100% of your discretionary time with him. You are missing opportunities to make connections and now we have less than 10 weeks here."
Wow. Thanks for the guilt trip. As if I am not already sad that we have so little time left and already disappointed that I have made basically no friends at UCT. The funny thing is that he full well knows that if I don't hang out with Josh in my "discretionary time" then I would be at home hanging out with the familia. Which he prefers. So, I reject the guilt trip. I refuse to feel bad at all and will channel the emotion into disliking his negative comments about my life.
Fuck.
Wow. Thanks for the guilt trip. As if I am not already sad that we have so little time left and already disappointed that I have made basically no friends at UCT. The funny thing is that he full well knows that if I don't hang out with Josh in my "discretionary time" then I would be at home hanging out with the familia. Which he prefers. So, I reject the guilt trip. I refuse to feel bad at all and will channel the emotion into disliking his negative comments about my life.
Fuck.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Electricity and Chemistry
Yesterday's headline: ESKOM INCREASES LOAD SHEDDING TO THREE POWER CUTS PER WEEK
Today's headline: ESKOM ANNOUNCES END TO LOAD SHEDDING
Hmmmm....somehow I think it is safer to keep my stock of candles and plan on electicity-free Tuesday night essay writing sessions.
For some reason I have been feeling unsure about things recently. I am not confident that a certain someone completely believes in me....not only in the cliched sense of trusting that I have the ability to change the world, but also believing that the world needs me as something more than a wife or a mother. I feel like he is more concerned with fitting me into his life than he is in making sure that my dreams are fit into my life.
I suppose that is natural in one sense...of course everyone is primarily responsible for making sure that they attain their own life goals. His goals are his responsibility and I don't put them first in my calculus of future plans. But at the same time I have absolutely no expectation that he will sacrifice any of his goals for our mutual lfe plans. He, however, expects, or at the very least wishes, that I would alter my career plans slightly so that they allow for lots of travelling and time off....which is not exactly possible for a lawyer or politician or even a journalist...or any other profession where you can solidly make a difference in the world.
This is not catastrophic for us, because I don't necessarily have to conform to his wishes. And he understands that we will have to compromise to make any sort of cross-Atlantic arrangement work. But beyond simply working things out, maybe what I want is someone who thinks that I am important for the bigger picture of humanity (lol, silly sounding, I know) and not just important for them. Just the fact that I can write this in here with complete certainty that he won't read this is evidence that he isn't necessarily as interested in how I think and what I think as he could be. If I knew that he had a blog, I would read every single entry. So why is it not the same for him?
"Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over."
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Today's headline: ESKOM ANNOUNCES END TO LOAD SHEDDING
Hmmmm....somehow I think it is safer to keep my stock of candles and plan on electicity-free Tuesday night essay writing sessions.
For some reason I have been feeling unsure about things recently. I am not confident that a certain someone completely believes in me....not only in the cliched sense of trusting that I have the ability to change the world, but also believing that the world needs me as something more than a wife or a mother. I feel like he is more concerned with fitting me into his life than he is in making sure that my dreams are fit into my life.
I suppose that is natural in one sense...of course everyone is primarily responsible for making sure that they attain their own life goals. His goals are his responsibility and I don't put them first in my calculus of future plans. But at the same time I have absolutely no expectation that he will sacrifice any of his goals for our mutual lfe plans. He, however, expects, or at the very least wishes, that I would alter my career plans slightly so that they allow for lots of travelling and time off....which is not exactly possible for a lawyer or politician or even a journalist...or any other profession where you can solidly make a difference in the world.
This is not catastrophic for us, because I don't necessarily have to conform to his wishes. And he understands that we will have to compromise to make any sort of cross-Atlantic arrangement work. But beyond simply working things out, maybe what I want is someone who thinks that I am important for the bigger picture of humanity (lol, silly sounding, I know) and not just important for them. Just the fact that I can write this in here with complete certainty that he won't read this is evidence that he isn't necessarily as interested in how I think and what I think as he could be. If I knew that he had a blog, I would read every single entry. So why is it not the same for him?
"Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over."
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
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