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.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
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
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
The Wrong Side of Bed
Types of people that are annoying:
1) People who quite obviously like to have all the attention in the room focused on them. For instance, those people who will "accidentally" cause some sort of disruption during class and then act like all surprised that everyone is looking at them, but are clearly feeling very pleased about it. These people are like cats. I like cats, but people shouldn't act like them.
2) People who moan while the professor is lecturing. I initially suspected this kid had Terrets, now I just think that he has mistaken the prof for a preacher. And he doesn't even do this when a really nice point is being made, where I can see someone would say "ahhh". No, he does it every three minutes, and its more like an amen, than anything else. Save it for church, buddy.
3) People who can't stand swearing. It may be a sin, but its not any worse than being a judgmental prude. John 8:7, bitches.
4) People who swear in every sentence. I especially hate it when high school girls do this, and you can just tell that they are doing it to be all cool and rebellious and to get attention.
5) People who constantly say "Jesus" and aren't even a little aware that it might be offensive. Yes, its a normal habit, and I don't consider it wash your mouth out with soap offensive, but at the same time, I know people would nearly crucify me for my political incorrectness if I went around saying "Mohammed" or "Siddhartha" in place of "shit" or "fuck".
6) People who are convinced that homosexuality is a sin. This elite group includes my parents and most of my extended family. Yes, I've read the Bible, so don't lecture me on whatever passage you think sets it out oh so clearly that the gays are going to hell. But just stop for a minute and think about it. Does it make sense at all that homosexuality would be a sin? That some people would just simply not be allowed to fall in love? My mom says "it's like a disability, God doesn't want people to be blind, but nevertheless some people have to live without their eyesight anyway." That's bogus...gay people clearly have the ability to fall in love. Plus where do you draw the line anyway. At gay sex? Are they allowed to live together without *gasp* touching? And if they can't live together, can they love eachother even if they don't act on it? And if they're are not supposed to love, then how is that even possible. And since when is Christianity going to say that some people are allowed to love and experience being loved in return, but others aren't. It just doesn't make sense, and I wish people would just get their heads out of their asses and realize that even if absurdly, God did mean homosexuality to be a sin, effectively excluding gays from churches is much much worse. It erks me that its not just the historically hypocrital Catholic church that is involved in this...even some of the most liberal, pacifist, accepting churches still stubbornly sanction homophobia with their policies on homosexuality.
7) People who complain too much.....mwahahaha...myself obviously included.
"The Dormouse: You've got no right to grow here.
Alice: Don't talk nonsense. You know you're growing too.
The Dormouse: Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace, not in that ridiculous fashion."
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
1) People who quite obviously like to have all the attention in the room focused on them. For instance, those people who will "accidentally" cause some sort of disruption during class and then act like all surprised that everyone is looking at them, but are clearly feeling very pleased about it. These people are like cats. I like cats, but people shouldn't act like them.
2) People who moan while the professor is lecturing. I initially suspected this kid had Terrets, now I just think that he has mistaken the prof for a preacher. And he doesn't even do this when a really nice point is being made, where I can see someone would say "ahhh". No, he does it every three minutes, and its more like an amen, than anything else. Save it for church, buddy.
3) People who can't stand swearing. It may be a sin, but its not any worse than being a judgmental prude. John 8:7, bitches.
4) People who swear in every sentence. I especially hate it when high school girls do this, and you can just tell that they are doing it to be all cool and rebellious and to get attention.
5) People who constantly say "Jesus" and aren't even a little aware that it might be offensive. Yes, its a normal habit, and I don't consider it wash your mouth out with soap offensive, but at the same time, I know people would nearly crucify me for my political incorrectness if I went around saying "Mohammed" or "Siddhartha" in place of "shit" or "fuck".
6) People who are convinced that homosexuality is a sin. This elite group includes my parents and most of my extended family. Yes, I've read the Bible, so don't lecture me on whatever passage you think sets it out oh so clearly that the gays are going to hell. But just stop for a minute and think about it. Does it make sense at all that homosexuality would be a sin? That some people would just simply not be allowed to fall in love? My mom says "it's like a disability, God doesn't want people to be blind, but nevertheless some people have to live without their eyesight anyway." That's bogus...gay people clearly have the ability to fall in love. Plus where do you draw the line anyway. At gay sex? Are they allowed to live together without *gasp* touching? And if they can't live together, can they love eachother even if they don't act on it? And if they're are not supposed to love, then how is that even possible. And since when is Christianity going to say that some people are allowed to love and experience being loved in return, but others aren't. It just doesn't make sense, and I wish people would just get their heads out of their asses and realize that even if absurdly, God did mean homosexuality to be a sin, effectively excluding gays from churches is much much worse. It erks me that its not just the historically hypocrital Catholic church that is involved in this...even some of the most liberal, pacifist, accepting churches still stubbornly sanction homophobia with their policies on homosexuality.
7) People who complain too much.....mwahahaha...myself obviously included.
"The Dormouse: You've got no right to grow here.
Alice: Don't talk nonsense. You know you're growing too.
The Dormouse: Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace, not in that ridiculous fashion."
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
DIVA
I got Armani sunglasses! Fake of course, but oh so flashy. The guy wanted me to pay something ridiculous like $30 for them, but I bargained him down to $10.
I only decided I wanted Aramani sunglasses when I noticed that all the American girls on campus were wearing sunglasses with little eagle (or something) logos on the side. Then, when I found out what brand they were I went and got them so that I can be just like all the other little exchange students. Mwahahaha.
My dad almost got a "diamond" encrusted G-Unit watch with a rim around it. Just for kicks. But then he came to his senses. Shame.
South African phrase of the day: "Shame." They say it in nearly every other sentence. And like all of their little speech fads, it succeeds in making them seem very bourgeois.
I only decided I wanted Aramani sunglasses when I noticed that all the American girls on campus were wearing sunglasses with little eagle (or something) logos on the side. Then, when I found out what brand they were I went and got them so that I can be just like all the other little exchange students. Mwahahaha.
My dad almost got a "diamond" encrusted G-Unit watch with a rim around it. Just for kicks. But then he came to his senses. Shame.
South African phrase of the day: "Shame." They say it in nearly every other sentence. And like all of their little speech fads, it succeeds in making them seem very bourgeois.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Too Fast Too Furious: Cape Town Strip
I saw car racing!!!!!!!!!! I am talking gritty, over a thousand people watching, underground, midnight races. We randomly ran into the unofficial Indy 500 on the way home last night. There was a long stretch of road that was suspiciously empty and all of a sudden we saw two cars squeal onto the road in front of us and noticed that on either side of the road were hundreds and hundreds of cars parked with people watching. It was like tailgating, except with flashy teenagers from the hood instead of 50-year old university alumni. And except for the fact that we were not with the jailbait tailgaters, we were freaking in the middle of the race.
Let me just say, that it was a wonderful cultural experience that fully broadened by horizons. Vive la Africa!
Aaand, regarding other new and exciting South African things, we had just come from picking my cousin up from Grand West Casino. Casinos are an even bigger thing here than they are on Native American reservations. Seriously. Tulalip Casino is to Grand West like Wild Waves is to Disneyland. In huge, gawdy splediforousness, and in popularity. Amazingly, my cousin won 20,000 rand the other night, which initself was cool. Then, she gave me 500 and her brother 1,000 to spend today. Terribly fun to have a no-strings-attached requirement to go on a shopping spree.
It was actually a little bit hard to find stuff where we were though, because "in" south african clothes for females are so different than in the US. There is wayway less bohemian chic and wayway more shiny-ness and animal print. You know how some places like to sell shirts where there are faux snakeskin belts or jewelry items attached? Like that...which is not exactly me. Pshaw. And Josh says that I dress very un-girly. He probably thinks this because whenever I stay over with him I am running around in cozy clothes like sweatpants and sweatshirts, but also because the Cape Town version of girly and feminine is more like constant heels, shiny jewelry and sharp little button up shirts with vests. Now I feel all defensive about my clothing style or lack thereof.....(I am being unfair though, because I actually know he wasn't equating ungirly-ness with lack of style, but I also know he would prefer girly-ness). Anyway, I am complaining for no reason though, because I got an adorable new bag and a sweater and a shirt...all thanks to my cousin and Grand West.
"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies."
-Nelson Mandela
Let me just say, that it was a wonderful cultural experience that fully broadened by horizons. Vive la Africa!
Aaand, regarding other new and exciting South African things, we had just come from picking my cousin up from Grand West Casino. Casinos are an even bigger thing here than they are on Native American reservations. Seriously. Tulalip Casino is to Grand West like Wild Waves is to Disneyland. In huge, gawdy splediforousness, and in popularity. Amazingly, my cousin won 20,000 rand the other night, which initself was cool. Then, she gave me 500 and her brother 1,000 to spend today. Terribly fun to have a no-strings-attached requirement to go on a shopping spree.
It was actually a little bit hard to find stuff where we were though, because "in" south african clothes for females are so different than in the US. There is wayway less bohemian chic and wayway more shiny-ness and animal print. You know how some places like to sell shirts where there are faux snakeskin belts or jewelry items attached? Like that...which is not exactly me. Pshaw. And Josh says that I dress very un-girly. He probably thinks this because whenever I stay over with him I am running around in cozy clothes like sweatpants and sweatshirts, but also because the Cape Town version of girly and feminine is more like constant heels, shiny jewelry and sharp little button up shirts with vests. Now I feel all defensive about my clothing style or lack thereof.....(I am being unfair though, because I actually know he wasn't equating ungirly-ness with lack of style, but I also know he would prefer girly-ness). Anyway, I am complaining for no reason though, because I got an adorable new bag and a sweater and a shirt...all thanks to my cousin and Grand West.
"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies."
-Nelson Mandela
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)