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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