Ho Ho No!!

I was walking past my local drugstore, on my way to the Post Office. It is a route I take often. Since I joined Netflix, it is a route I take more often. As I walked past the drugstore - which I love, not only because it is open 24 hours a day but because the people who work there are so friendly and you can find almost anything there - something caught my eye and made me pause. I took a couple of steps back and then moved closer to the window. I couldn't believe my eyes you see. The new must-have Christmas gift in the window?



Oh... and he had a friend



And the label on the box? "Gangsta Babies". Gangsta written like graffiti and babies was like building blocks. Now... why would this be a great gift for a kid?
First, those are some scary looking babies.
Second, gangsta?
Third, babies?
Fourth - together?

Oh but that wasn't all. How could it be? A couple of days later, I am rushing to work, past the drugstore, so that I can drop off mail before heading into the office, and I see that a label has been added above the Gangsta Baby.

"Pookie"

It's the most wonderful time of the year!!

I wish you a holiday season full of wonder!
lots of love and happiness too.

Are We Really Surprised?

In the state of California is the town of Rough and Ready, population 1,500. It is actually named after the 12th president of the United States. I know what you're going to say - Pandave, I have never heard of President Rough and Ready. Well, that's only because his campaign manager said the name might not be so good on a campaign poster so he went with the more run of the mill Zachary Taylor.

However, despite being named for a President, the town of Rough and Ready decided, in early 1950 (a little more than a year after becoming a town,) that it wanted to have nothing more to do with the United States of America. Instead the residents of this town, surrounded by the United States of America, decided they wanted their own nation - The Republic of Rough and Ready.

People were excited, articles of secession were drawn up and a huge celebration party was planned. Oh it was going to be grand but then the party planners hit a brick wall. Alcoholic beverages were to be ordered from the neighbouring state of Nevada but Nevada beverage sellers declared that they would not sell drinks to non-Americans.

The Republic of Rough and Ready faced a very difficult decision - alcohol or freedom.
The members of the Town of Rough and Ready made a decision, by popular vote, before secession papers even reached the capital.

Priorities.

Duck, Duck... Shoe!

So George Dubya Bush went to bid farewell to Iraq over the weekend. All was going really well, there were smiles and waves and friendly handshakes. Finally, there was a press conference where papers were ceremoniously signed and more handshakes were exchanged. Then Dubya and Al-Maliki stood at a podium to exchange compliments. Suddenly a young journalist, probably feeling that the event was too serious, jumped up and started up a game of, I'm thinking, dodgeball. He yanked his shoe off, shouting farewell to Dubya and some other words that might be considered insults if this were not a game (you know you have to trash-talk the competition in a game). He took aim and threw the shoe. Dubya must have been a dodgeball champion in school because he ducked and the shoe whizzed by him without even clipping a hair. Ah but most shoes come in pairs. The journalist had a second chance. More trash talk ensued as he pulled at the second shoe and hurled it. Al-Maliki, feeling a little left out of the game, tried to intercept the shoe. Perhaps he thought he had a better chance of hitting Dubya with it from close range - we'll never know as he could not catch it. But dodgeball Dubya deftly ducked and avoided the second shoe as well. And then, from behind, a Secret Service Agent, mistaking the dodgeball for American football, tackled the journalist, bringing the game to a quick end before Dubya could pick up the shoes and try to see if his aim was better than the journalist. Ah but it was fun while it lasted. I wonder what they'll play in Afghanistan? Pin the tail on the donkey?

It's Alive! It's Alive!!

today is a windy day. really windy. they say 40 miles per hour winds which means nothing to me since i grew up on kilometres and it was never really that windy where i lived. but this is what i do know - tall buildings sway in the wind. like trees. and i now work on the 28th floor of one such tall building. in the corner. so i get to hear thw walls creaking while i drink ginger tea for motion sickness.

who thought this was a good idea?

Universally!

You know when you come across something that just makes you smile? Makes you wanna sing? Makes you want to just dance? Fills you with hope?



And such true words, the world over.

A Day In The Life

at the beginning of last year, i wasn't feeling too well and so i went to see my doctor. she told me that there wasn't too much to worry about and gave me a shot to make me feel better or, at the very least, not feel any worse. but i got worse, quite a bit worse. so i called her office and her nurse told me to be patient, it would pass. instead i reached a point where i contemplated jumping out of my 8th floor office's window. so, i called and insisted on seeing the doctor. she apologised for the nurse, gave me some pills and another shot. but nothing seemed to be working. i was miserable, i was listless and i was confused. if i was feeling worse every day and the doctor said she could see nothing, what did that mean? i spoke with a friend of mine and she recommended that i see her doctor. this doctor, my friend said, was excellent. what did i have to lose? even though this doctor did not accept my insurance, i made the appointment. i was desperate.

one morning in early july, i went to see the new doctor. after writing a cheque for an obscene amount of money, i had my vitals checked and then sat down to wait for the doctor. she came in, sat down and asked me what was wrong.
and i burst into tears.
she had a box of tissues on her desk - i'm guessing that i am not the first to weep in that there room. and she was so patient and understanding. and she told me that, just from what i said, my doctor was probably wrong about my not having to worry about anything. we then went into an exam room where she poked and prodded me and said yes, houston, we have a problem. or something to that effect. but just to be sure i went over into another room for an ultrasound. then it was back to the doctor's office.

i needed surgery, she said. my symptoms would only get worse until this happened. "but you don't take my insurance," was the first thing i said. she said something about a payment plan but i wasn't buying it. i remembered how expensive having my wisdom teeth taken out, years ago, had been. i couldn't imagine how 3 days in hospital could be manageable without insurance. now i had two things to stress about - my health and not being able to pay for it. i left my new doctor's office, went back to work, packed my things and went straight home. i crawled into bed and slept.
it was all a bit much for me.
then my good friend, rifa, called me and asked me to go and watch a show at Prospect Park in brooklyn. bobby blue bland was performing and it was going to be great. i hadn't seen rifa in ages and so we made plans for friday evening. we got there to discover that bobby blue bland was ill and, instead, odetta, also referred to as "the voice of the civil rights movement", would perform. and what a performance. by the end of the evening, i was smiling and no longer wanted to curl up and sleep until it all went away. odetta was amazing and i was so glad i had decided to come out and watch her.

and, as they say, all's well that ends well. providence worked in my favour - my company changed to an insurance plan that was accepted by my new doctor - and three month's later i went under the knife.

but last wednesday, i heard the sad news that the incredible odetta had passed away. she had hoped to sing at barack obama's inauguration but, sadly, her heart did not hold out. i feel very honoured that she did hold on long enough to shine her powerful light on my life.

Looking Back

today is 1 december, world aids day. you wouldn't think it to look around here. we have just come off a turkey and ham binge, followed by a post-turkey comatose state. in addition to that, we had people waking up before the sun to save dollars on holiday gifts. some of those people managed to trample a poor man, killing him, and two men, apparently arguing over a bratz doll (or something) shot each other. while some were shopping and some were eating, tragedies were unfolding around the world. it just seems like a bit much to have to remember that it has been over twenty years and people are still dying - quite unnecessarily in a lot of cases now. children are being orphaned - which is great for those on the third-world-child-as-accessory market but kinda sucks for pretty much everyone else. on the other hand, people are still working hard to find a cure and bring an end to this.

imagine - the day this will be like small pox; something we read about in the books.

in the meantime, wear a red ribbon, spread some love and some knowledge and Hopey World Aids Day!

Milestones

so this is apparently my 301st post! WOO HOO!!

but that was off the subject. it was my birthday on saturday. and it wasn't thanksgiving weekend so people were actually able to make it to the celebration. so i really had a birthday party on my birthday. with cake and ice cream and i'll tell you this - cake and ice cream never get old and are never overrated. it reminded me of another birthday party i had many many moons ago, i must have been about 9 or 10 and my little sister was 5 or 6. we were so excited and could barely sleep for the week before.

at that time in my youth, my sister and i had dreams of becoming famous musicians in our future. my father had us taking recorder lessons and we didn't watch enough tv to realise that recorders have not been mainstream pop instruments for a while now. and we spent lots of time singing along to all kinds of songs - sometimes even harmonising!

we decided that it was time to show the world - at least the part that was coming to the birthday party - that we were poised for greatness. we would write and sing a birthday song:

the sun is shining
the sky is blue
we're here to welcome
a girl who's new
'cause it's her birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum
yes, her birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum

we practised and we were psyched. until saturday when we woke up to seriously overcast skies. what now? well, if we were going to be stars, nothing could stand in our way. we regrouped and came up with contingency lyrics:

the sun ain't shining
the sky is grey
but it's okay
it's still a wonderful day
'cause it's her birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum
yes, her birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum

i can't remember how the song was received but i do know that my sister and i still share music - even though she always insists that i am flat. but that's okay:
'cause it's my birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum
yes, my birthday
bum-bum bah-bum-bum bum-bum

If Loving You Is Right, Please Let Me Be Wrong!

I am not what one would call a fashionista - I break out in a cold sweat at the thought of browsing a clothing store. I will postpone a shopping outing until the day of the event I need clothing for but I will say this: I think that clothing should make sense.



And, well, open-toed boots do not even begin to make sense. For all the things boots are supposed to have been invented for - warmth, protection against the elements and even just looking cute - the open toed boots just fail. I can't wear those in the rain, snow or just plain old bitter cold! And anyone who tells me I look good in them just needs a new pair of glasses. Sadly those boots are not alone. There are several items that boggle the brain:



The sleeveless turtleneck! Because if my neck is cold, chances are my arms are too. In a related category is the sleeveless poufy coat. My friend who drives says it's handy when driving because then your arms are free to drive but your body is warm and you can jump in and out of your car and run errands without getting too cold. I love her dearly but it still doesn't make sense to me.

Thong underwear. I mean, who invented it? Was it a bully who wanted to spread the suffering on a global scale in one fell swoop. Oh, oh, I've got it. It was someone who was bullied in their youth. Their revenge was convincing the world that the "cool crowd", who tend to be former bullies, could only become more awesome by subjecting themselves to walking around all day long with a wedgie. Seriously, a wedgie? Very little is less uncomfortable.

Wearing tights as trousers. That is just not a good look. They are called tights and sold with hosiery for a reason. I'm just saying.

I know some will call me an outdated old fart and tell me to get with the times. "It's cutting edge," they'll say. And I shall wonder? Cutting the edge of what? Sanity?

The Finish Line!

And was I ever ready for it. This is what it felt like: there was an election in 2004 that left me, quite frankly, stunned. George W Bush? Again? Really? Where had I been living? Apparently in some insluated bubble. Then, it seemed as though the day after the election, 200 people crawled out of the woodwork and declared their intention to run for the next president of the United States of America!

Bah Humbug, I thought. A little bitter yes, but this is because, despite the world leader tendencies that some have accused me of having, because I was born in a country my parents were not from, I cannot be a president anywhere. At least not anywhere I know of (I am very open to moving to a private island in order to serve as the great leader). But I digress.

They say the election season was about two years long but it feels a heck of a lot longer for me. This time around I had a stake. After tiring of people making decisions that I had absolutely no say in (real or perceived) I was finally able to become a citizen and thus exercise my right to vote. I could lie to you and tell you that I was very blase and uncaring about the whole deal, but I am a terrible liar. I tried to resist. I didn't want to be disappointed as I had been in 2004, but I found myself being sucked in.

It is not such a bad thing though. I mean, isn't it better to vote knowing what is being promised? I mean, how else are you going to hold the president's feet to the fire? However, with an election season way longer than any human's attention span, I had to take many many breaks. This year, however, has been mostly elections, most of the time. I admit I got worked up, I was tempted to throw things at the TV, I shouted at it a lot, even though it never answered me back. And finally, the day arrived.

Let me explain. I left home just after I turned 18, in order to go to college in the US. I went back to Zimbabwe after graduation but had just missed an election. One of the first things I did was register to vote but I moved back to the US two months before the next round of elections. And went through 2 presidential elections where I was not able to vote, as I was not a citizen. Which brings me back to this point - my first presidential vote.

I walked over to the voting center (aka School) and joined the line that was coming out of the building. After being confused several times, I joined the line for my electoral district and just happened to end up in line right behind a guy in my building. Three people joined the line and they live the next block over. We share a courtyard (that none of us have access to). So we bonded by complaining about the dreadfully unmusical windchimes that one of our neighbours has and promised to throw a block party where we would reunite. It took nearly two hours before I was at the booth but the time was spent surrounded by patient and relaxed people.

I stepped behind the curtain to come face to face with what must be the oldest voting machine in the country. I wouldn't be surprised if it was rusty. It was a huge hunk of metal with a big red lever at the bottom and a bunch of knobs on it's face. The instructions were to pull the lever to the right, turn the knobs next to the names you wanted and then to pull the lever to the left. Of course I had a moment of panic - was I sure which way was left or right? Had I turned the knobs all the way? Had I missed anything? Finally I inhaled, pulled the lever to the left and stepped out of the booth. Some poeple get stickers declaring that they have exercised their right. I got a thumbs up from my neighbours and that was good too.

I headed out to work, stopping only to get my free coffee from Starbucks. I then spent a rather unproductive day, wondering how the voting was going around the country. I dashed out of the office to head to the subway. They were setting up an election center at Rockefeller Center and I paused to watch and take photos. I also picked up a map on which to tally the results as they came out, along with a red marker and a blue marker. I then went over to Ben & Jerry's for my free ice cream and headed out to a local bar to meet with friends to follow the results while wining and dining. Mostly wining took place. And me marking off the map, during which I was called both cool and a geek - and you know, cool geek ain't half bad.

The bar was packed, standing room only, with a rowdy crowd that reacted vociferously to any results that came out. The minutes ticked by and some felt the election had been determined as soon as Pennsylvania had been called. I would not be satisfied until it was called for real. I had lived through 2000 where an election was called for one candidate, then the other and then we lived in limbo for weeks. I was not making any assumptions.

Eleven pm rolled around and 30 seconds later the election was called for Barack Obama. The room roared, people wept and those behind the bar popped bottles of champagne that they sprayed all over us. I figured then that I wasn't the only one who had been sucked into the election. HiDef and I then rushed home so that we could actually hear the speeches made by the candidates.

And before I start getting all thoughtful and deep and meaningful about the future, I'll share some photos I took on election day while I try to find out if anyone else is giving away ice cream or cake... just because.

Now I Just Smell Drunk

Sterile dirt. Why would I feel clean just because apparently now the dirt on my hand is sterile? I don't buy it. And when I tell people that, they just look confused. I am not sure how.

From as far back as I can remember - and though I can barely remember what I did yesterday, my youth is quite vivid - I have been taught one way to be clean. Wash. After romping around in the garden, climbing trees and sabotaging anteaters' traps, the first thing we were ordered to do was wash up. After using the bathroom, the first question would always be, "Did you wash your hands?" And, thus, I have been completely brainwashed. When feeling dirty, wash your hands and washing includes water.

Now, however, a lot of those around me are all about the anti-bacterial gels and at times I am sucked into this realm. When my mom came to visit me last year, I was concerned about the germs that she might pick up, having to hold onto stair rails because of her bad knees. So I handed her a bottle of anti bacterial gel to carry in her bag. She looked at me like I had lost my mind and went to wash her hands. And I don't even know why I suggested it because my hands never feel clean after I have used the gel. And people tell me that the germs are dead. Maybe, but the dirt is still on my hands.

And so, I won't even go on about how there are fears that all these anti-bacterial products will make us a little like the boy in the bubble; unable to fight against any bacterial diseases. I won't talk about how it seems to be a huge selling point - even dishwashing soap contains anti-bacterial hand wash. All me Old School, but all I shall say to you is that, even after using the anti-bacterial gel, when I wash my hands, do you know what comes off as I rinse? DIRT. And you know how my hands feel after I have washed off the dirt with water? CLEAN.

New Knees Please!!!

Looking good, huh? Looking like it doesn't hurt one bit, right? That's me at mile 26.1 and that's called acting (and adrenaline). But I'm getting ahead of myself. It all started early on Sunday morning. The alarm went off at 5:30 am but I am not sure I really slept all night. I hopped out of bed and started using the Bodyglide - all the better to reduce chaffing. It was then on with the clothes that had been laid out the night before and collecting all the gear. After my usual 15 minute stretch I drove out to the start line with DC and HiDef. DC dropped us off and HiDef told me lies to calm me down:
"Don't worry, it won't get hot until after 2pm"
"Knees, Shnees. They won't hurt one bit."
"Who? That woman who won the gold medal at the Olympics? Of course you'll leave her in the dust."

I wasn't afraid to be dead nervous - my mom told me that the adrenalin would carry me through the long miles. I found the pace maker that had been recommended, based on my training times and my lack of marathon experience, and settled into the 4:45 team. I turned on my Ipod and we were off. I was feeling good and I was determined to stick with my group, which meant pushing around people on the crowded streets in order to keep them within sight. And of course, as soon as we set off, I needed to use the bathroom.

Pretty much all I could think about through mile 10 was how I needed to use the bathroom. I hoped that i would dehydrate until I didn't need to go or that my thoughts would be occupied by other pains and I would forget that I needed to go. All this was not helped by the bathroom signs every mile and the rows of guys on the sides of the street, easily and happily going. Afraid that I would skimp on much needed hydration out of fear of peeing on myself, I gave in at mile 10. Fortunately, very few people needed to go at that mile and so I was delayed only briefly and the short stop actually gave my knees a little relief.

And then I was off again. It took two miles to catch up with my pace team but at least my mind was clear. I trundled along, trying to take in the scenery. We ran through many neighbourhoods, and past several schools and through a park or two. I knew that I would not be interested in walking after the race so I tried to take it in when I wasn't making my way around other runners or trying to keep my eye on the pacer.

I had my name on my shirt and, can I tell you, hearing my name being shouted enthusiastically by amazing supporters was like a shot of energy. I gleefully thanked them and had a smile on my face for at least half a mile after their encouragement. I gave some high fives to people lining the sides of the street. Regardless of the pain, this was going to be a good time. And it was. good and painful. I passed the halfway mark and said to myself - yup, a half marathon is definitely doable. I got to mile 15 and thought - wow, this marathon is really long. It didn't help me one bit, after 16 miles, to be told that I had a little over two hours to go. It all seemed so far away. But I could do this. I spent my Saturday mornings running around in circles, around the park, for hours on end. I could do this.

At mile 18 I started talking to myself inside my head, telling myself that I did 8 mile runs, no problem. That is all I had to do now. An 8 mile run. At mile 20, my mind started drifting on the regular. I would be with my pace team and then it would be like I blinked and they were suddenly far ahead and I had to speed up to catch up. At times I felt as though my brain and my legs were not connected. My brain was telling my legs to do one thing but my legs were on their own trip.

Did I mention that I started feeling hot? I made an effort to have a little to drink every mile. I ran through water from fire hydrants that had been opened on the route. I ran past supporters who sprayed water on us. But I told myself it was not so bad - HiDef had told me it wouldn't get hot until later, and he wouldn't lie to me, now would he? Then I ran past a bank. On the display above it I read "98". It was then that I knew that I had lost my mind and I must trust nothing. I must just focus on drinking water and finishing the race.

Just before mile 26 a woman running next to me grabbed her calf and dropped to the ground. Thankfully there were people in the crowd to help her. I say thankfully because I was sure then that I was running purely on fumes. If I stopped moving I might not start again. So I kept on going. UP HILL. I mean seriously, were they trying to break my spirit? Why are you going to put an up hill at mile 26? I was trying to decide whether or not I had the energy to get mad about this when I rounded the corner and saw the finish line.

My legs found new life. All pain and hallucinations were forgotten. I spotted HiDef and called out his name. I waved as he took a couple of photos. Then I focused on the finish and powered through the line!

And stopped dead. Yep, me and everyone else around me. It is like you have enough for 26.2 and that's it. No running for 26.3. no siree. We're done at 26.2. They tempted us to walk forward slowly with free beer. I grabbed my beer and took a great gulp. And thought - hmmm, is beer a good idea when super thirsty after a long run with nothing in the stomach?
And I took another gulp of beer and tucked a bottle under my arm - for psychological support.

Of course I got lost on my way to the tent to get my stuff. But there HiDef was there to pick me up, get me booked for a massage and give me the congratulatory kiss. And the marathon folk were there to give me a medal (which I am still carrying around in my handbag, like an amulet with secret powers). HiDef also confessed to all the pre-race lies he had told me. Especially the weather one. I was running in 85 degree weather.

And, for all the pain and hallucinations, I loved it. I loved the support and I loved the challenge. I have a new respect for marathoners. An awe for those who do it on the regular. I have my magic medal in my bag. And my next race will be a half marathon.

And for all the

Remember Me?

Hey there!
Remember the bear?

so yeah, a year and a week ago there was some resetting that needed to be done. but now we are back on track and like the bionic man, i am better than i was before: better, stronger, faster. okay okay, maybe not faster, but inspired and focused to run further and that ought to count for something. i have also been waking up at 5am, getting up and running, and for the epitome of the not-a-morning-person that i am, that amazes even me. can the bionic man claim that, huh? i mean, okay so you can see things miles away and lift a car with one hand but how does that compare to being proud of the pieces of you that are rubbed raw during a long run? okay so you would finish the marathon in less than ten minutes but can you take an ice bath, 6 million dollar man? well you think about that as i go from the encouragement my mother gave me for walking all the way from the kitchen to the front door of my new york apartment (which can probably fit in the living room of a regular living space) to crossing the finish line after making it 26.2 miles around Chicago. yeah, you really think about and ask yourself - is bionic all they talked it up to be?

The Numbers Game

a short while back, i was watching television with hi-def and the news channels were going on about how it was only 60 days until election day. and i said, wow, that means my marathon is even sooner. and hi-def says, yeah about a month sooner. well, i have been following my training schedule, taking it one week at a time but never really thinking too much about how many days left of training i have or how many other numbers are involved in all of this so:

20 - number of miles of my longest run, which i completed last weekend when i had 3 weeks left to go before the marathon. 20 miles is also the furthest i have ever run in my entire life. it is also a shorter distance than the marathon.
19 - the average age of a soldier in the vietnam war. it's a number that is stuck in my head, thanks to paul hardcastle
14 - number of days left until the marathon. that is also 2 weeks. that is also 8 training runs and 4 cross-training sessions.
7 - number of months i shall have spent training when the marathon comes around.
5 - pairs of shoes i have gone through since i began training.
3 - ice baths that i have taken after a long run. yes, that's me, a bath and enough ice to cover my legs, for 20 minutes.
2 - number of feet that are completely shot and as ugly as sin, due to the thorough beating they have taken over the last 6 and a half months. my apologies to them. 2 is also the number of knees that have miraculously supported me thus far. my greatest gratitude to them.

26.2 - miles that i am to run in chicago, in order to complete the marathon.
42.195 - for the metric, kilometres that i am to run in chicago. my mother's farm is 20 km out of town and i used to be able to take a nap when we drove from the farm into town - that is less than half the distance of the marathon. just so my mom

1 - post race speech i wish i could give, so i could thank the many many people who have supported and encouraged me. so i could thank the random strangers in the park and at the running track who gave me the thumbs up, wished me well and urged me to "keep going, you're looking good" when i was about to give up. to my aunt who was impressed even when i ran just 3 miles. to hi-def who complimented me endlessly, calling me a "beast" and a "machine" and, seriously, what more could a girl ask for? to my mom who told me i could do it and i know she's not lying to be kind because she has always laughed at my art. oh i could go on but i am pretty sure they are going to give that speech time to the marathon winners.

but, you know, i could always sneak up, tackle the news guy and grab the mic. i'm sure i'll get at least a thank you or two out before they catch me.

Truth, Lies and Internet...

It has been a while, i guess i must run faster than i thought, but finally someone caught up. Prettylyf caught me and tagged and so, ahem, here goes:

1. What’s worse - Physical or Mental cheating?
i think they are both equally awful and dishonest.


2. Is it easier to forgive or forget?
easier to forget. i'm all - ooooh i don't like that person, i can't remember why but, oooh i don't like them.


3. Can men and women be ” Just Friends?”
well, a friend is never "just" a friend. but, most definitely men and women can be friends and it would probably make the world a better place if we could be.



4. Dating co-workers?
oh, no, too messy.



5. All expenses paid vacation to anywhere?
that's difficult. can i say world tour? or ten-nation tour?


6. On the way to the electric chair - What’s your last meal?
inner-body anti-electric insulation.



7. Water parks are…?
lots of fun on a hot day with friends



8. When you are “In Love” do you notice other people?
notice how? as in, there you are in front of me, i better step to the side before i trip over you?



9. Is flirting cheating?
yep.


10. Would you rather have 1 great friend or 5 pals?
1 great friend


11. If someone called you a bitch would you be offended?
it would depend on what they meant. i would probably just have a sore hand from bopping them on the head. i keed! i keed!...


12. Are you ok with your significant other being friends with an ex?
i am not sure. best friends? hmmmm...


13. Would you live with someone without marrying them?
i think i would.


14. Favorite sport?
basketball.

15. Is toilet paper hung over or under?
under

16. Do you squeeze toothpaste from the middle or end of the tube?
i try to do the end. sometimes i do middle but i really try to focus on the end.

17. How do you feel about tanning booths?
they are not necessary and probably quite dangerous.


18. Friends with benefits?
not for me, thanks.


19. Do you believe in angels?
i haven't thought about that lately. i am thinking i don't not believe.


20. Would you rather take pictures or be in pictures?
i seem to always be taking them. does that mean that is what i prefer or that i travel with people who don't have cameras?


21. Have you ever flirted with someone you had no interest in?
Does in jest count? i think they knew it was completely a joke.


22. Ever kissed a random person and then walked away?
hahaha. no. but i think it would be an interesting thing to watch.


23. Would you buy bootleg merchandise?
Oh yes.


24. What color looks best on you?
i am thinking black. but i also look good in certain shades of red.


25. If you could play any sport professionally what would it be?
basketball or tennis or just be the ref in aussie rules rugby.


26. Ever break up with someone and regret it?
nope


27. Are you a jealous person?
don't think so


28. Would you ever have plastic surgery?
it's too late for me now. i have grown used to the me that is.


29. When do you want to get married?
i can tell you when my mother wants me to get married!


30. Who has the sexiest accents?
hmmmm, what about italian americans from North Jersey?


31. Next concert you’re attending?
i have no plans

32. Favorite song?
what i love depends on how i feel at any given moments. i have so many songs i love.


33. Favorite movie?-
the usual suspects. recently though i laughed until i cried at tropic thunder


34. What’s your occupation?
controller - whatever that means. maybe like ms jackson i'm in control!

35. What’s your sign?
Scorpio


36. Are you a beach, country or city person
beach and city. i would love to split my life between the two


37. Best vacation spot you’ve been to?
victoria falls!

38. Have you ever had a “secret affair?”
nope


39. If you could own a non-traditional pet which would it be?
turtle. or a huge tortoise.


40. Favorite show as a child?
nothing comes to mind. i loved the looney tunes and voltron


41. Where do you spend most of your money?
RENT


42. Are you currently working at a job that you hate?
i actually am enjoying my new job, in as much as one can enjoy work.


43. Have you ever been so heart broken that you called in sick to work?
i am of the "work so hard you can't think about your personal life" school of thought

44. Favorite summer drink?
i love seltzer water all the time.


45. Can you change a car tire?
i think i could. i have never had to.


46. Favorite cologne / perfume?
i love a whole range of armani perfumes, particularly code and sensi


48. Would you consider yourself adventurous?
yes indeedy


49. What is your My Space profile song?
the flinstones theme song, i think. i haven't updated it since maybe sometime last year.


50. Favorite concert attended?
most recently sharon jones. she's amazing!


51. Would you date an already attached man / woman?
that's like being a second wife. i'm too selfish for that.


52. Would you sing Karaoke in front of co-workers?
absolutely.


53. Can you shoot pool?
i can't get that stick arm coordination thing down.


54. Do you like your siblings’ significant others?
i don't know any of them - globalisation has scattered us around the world.


55. Can you drive a stick?
absolutely. i got my licence driving stick.


56. Did you wear white at your wedding?
the wedding? i don't remember the wedding. did i oversleep? did i miss it? did i sleep walk and do it in pyjamas??


57. Have you ever sat and hoped for a phone call?
oh almost every day.


58. Ever skip school and spend the day at the beach?
i never went to school near a beach. and my dad would have killed me had i ever played hookey.


59. Favorite TV show/s?
Law & Order - all three of them, House, CSI

60. What do you think about gay marriage?
i think marriage is marriage and any consenting adults who want to go that route should do as they wish.

61. what are you waiting for at the movies?
i think i might go and see the new ricky gervais movie.

62. What is your favorite holiday?
i kinda hate holidays. not being with family has turned me off. i do love my birthday, wherever i am.

63. Describe your fighting style: drunken master or angry monkey?
drunken monkey! now i have to go and find some old kung fu movie.

64. Piercing?
in ears. the others have closed now.

65. Tattoos?
i am waiting until i'm 72

66. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?
amazon.com - then i could get whatever i wanted, right?

67. Thongs?
NEVER! it's like having a wedgie all the time. those things are instruments of torture!

68. Write 2 truths and 1 lie
-high fructose corn syrup is the devil
-the movie is always better than the book
-all we need is love

and to those of you who happen upon this i say - TAG! YOU'RE IT!!!!

12 September

birthdays have always been big in my family. growing up, my parents tended to be too busy being revolutionaries and graduate students to take the time and energy to get worked up about holidays. but birthdays? oh, those were super special days - i mean, a birthday is your day and no one has the right to take that away from you, not even a revolutionary. and everyone was expected to treat another's birthday with the reverence it deserved.

like a lot of kids in this world, i did not have a wage earning job and so, when it came to birthdays, i was expected to use my skills and resources found around the house in order to come up with at least a card and hopefully a gift too.

i am sure i have shared with you my atrocious handwriting and rather frightening drawing ability - or rather, lack thereof. but a birthday is a birthday and you do what you can and you put your all into it. and so i would make the most hideous cards but i will say that they were full of love and frustration and lots of shadows where i had used my eraser over and over again, just trying to make things perfect.

so, when i was, i don't know, maybe about 10, i decided that black was my favourite colour - looking in my closet, one might argue that black still is my favourite colour. i knew that, whatever i did, it would have to incorporate black. and what i did was make my mother a personalised pin cushion. i dug through her sewing scraps and found a pink piece of hardy cottong fabric that was just the right size and then i went through her knitting basket and found some black yarn. i took my time and made a border around the pin cushion and stuffed it with other scraps. and finally, the piece de resistance, painstakingly embroidered her initials on each side of the cushion. i was so proud of myself!

i went home to visit and there it was still, next to the sewing machine. and boy is it an eyesore! i couldn't believe that she still had it and so i asked her why she hadn't gotten herself a prettier pin cushion. she looked at me as though i was crazy and said - well, you gave it to me as a birthday present. i like it.
i offered to replace it and she insisted that she liked it find and it still worked very well.
i don't know because i look at that thing and wonder - what the heck was i thinking?

ah mothers.

Oh What A Heart!!

so my friend from boston? she's is extremely generous. her heart is huge and she gets passionate about things. things she can do something about and things that sometimes overwhelm her. but if you have a problem and you need a friend? she's the one. i'm thinking word must have gotten around. maybe someone's been writing on bathroom walls "you need help? call 1-800-boston" or something. bathroom wall readers must have posted virtual notes online because boston gets email all the time. asking for help.

mostly those in need are in nigeria and their tales are almost all the same. they survived a coup or the military regime but somehow they and their money were separated. maybe it's in a swiss bank account, perhaps it is sitting in a trust in the cayman islands, or possibly in suitcases buried under a hammock in jamaica. but they really need boston's help and though they have never met, they know what a good person she is. they know how trustworthy and honest she is. they just know she is the one. help us and we'll show our appreciation by giving you millions of dollars. just a small token of appreciation. send us all your personal information and let us put mountains of money in your account and then keep a lot of it and just give us enough to live on. so, the other day, boston kindly wrote back to one:


dear dr johnson campbell

what a dear friend you are to think of me. yes , i did get your message from 3 months ago. wow, $500k sounds great. i could get a new condo. and maybe a new car. like one of those hybrid cars. they are really kind of pricey. i wish hyundai would make a hybrid. do you think they will? you know those japanese boys, they dont like to be left behind. what with the kia and all. but the kia's are not bad. not bad at all. there is that one that looks like a merc. i wonder how it drives. you know what i like about the japanese, they are tech people, so you know their cars are not always basic. but what if they come up with like a hummer hybrid. eeeish. that would be interesting. lol. a hybrid hummer. and then they can make all kinds of colors. like pink and purple. orange even.
maybe your secretay that Steve Douglas fellow, maybe he can call the japanese with these ideas. i bet we could make a boat load of money.
okay, well let me know how that goes. oh about that money, i think i'm kind of overloaded a bit with some money i got last year. so maybe u can hold onto it for me for a while. thanks.

Pretend That This Is Radio

i find myself once again travelling for work, so i have no means to upload photos (i'm working on getting my dream macbook!) on sunday i ran with the world! well at least that's what nike told me and who am i to argue with nike? so i ran and the world ran with me. for 10 km! how are you world? i myself am tired but super proud of myself. it was the quickest i have ever run 10km (though live video might make me look as though i was going in slow motion) and it was all for some very good causes - charity, community and an cool t-shirt. when i was in primary school, cross country was a 3km run (max 5km) - at 10 km, i must have run, at the very least, an entire continent.

and though i am scratching at the mosquito bites on my arms and grass bug bites on my ankles, it's totally worth it. you shoulda been there. maybe you were. a part of that sea of red that snaked around randall's island. or sao paolo. or johannesburg. and we'll know each other by the medals that double as cool wrist-wear. so you could be sitting on a plane irritated with the guy who's taking up more than half of the arm rest. then you'll look down, see the medal-cum-wristband and you'll be all, hey you ran the race too! then he'll throw his hands up in the air all excitedly and you can take that moment to reclaim arm rest. hah!

August 21st

when i was around 12 or 13, the biggest expression of me becoming a grown up was going to the movies without my family. an outing of us grown girls - how adult of us. and my day as an almost grown up would go like this:

i would wake up at the crack of dawn and get dressed, pack a book and get ready. i would then meet my father in the kitchen for a quick breakfast. we would then get in the car and head to his office. this was so that i wouldn't have to worry about getting public transport into town. "my dear, i think it will just be easier. don't you agree?" and i would agree, partly because it was exciting for me to spend some time with my father where i wasn't fighting with my brother and sister for his attention.

i would sit in a corner and read the book. i would feel special when he passed me an official document to read and opine on. ask me if i understood. darned if i know but you know i tried very hard to come up with an intelligent response. my father would engage me in conversation and act as though he was seriously taking my opinions under advisement.

close to movie time, he would put on his jacket and say, "okay, my dear, let's go. we don't want to be late." the movie theatre was just a couple of blocks from his offices, but he would walk me over, buy my ticket and hand me over some money for popcorn and other snacks. sometimes my friends hadn't arrived yet - my father was all about being early - and so he would hang about a bit. "i don't want you to be alone."
"i'll be okay, i can take care of myself."
"Ah, Miss P." he smiled at me, as though he knew i was happy that he stuck around.
when my friends appeared, he would boom out (he could have an awfully loud voice).
"okay, my dear, i'll see you after the movie!" and then he would lean down and smack a loud kiss on my lips mmmmwah! yes. with sound effects. and then he would leave, and i would stare at the ground for a minute or two, completely embarrassed. whose father did that in front of their cool friends?
and you know that after the movie, he would be waiting outside for me, ready to take me home. i would act nonchalant as i said goodbye to my friends. my father wouldn't care what i was trying to be, he would sling his arm casually around my shoulder so we could walk to the car. i would try to roll my eyes and pretend that i was too grown for my father's attention but i really was happy to see him and couldn't wait to tell him about the outing.

so, thank you baba, for making it way cool for me to be uncool.

65 Days Of Sunshine A Year...

two fridays ago, after work, i headed home, picked up my bags and took a car to the airport. i was doing alright for time and noted that the terminal seemed very crowded - it must be the summer travel rush, i idly thought. i walked in to check on what time my flight was leaving and then it became clear. flights were cancelled, flights were delayed, some people in the airport had been there for many hours and my flight had been delayed for two and a half hours. by the time i reached seattle, it was 2am there and by the time i got to my hotel it was after three. my two girlfriends who had arrived on time and were out at a dinner party, came back to join me at the hotel and arrived at around three thirty. the time difference between seattle and new york is 3 hours so my body believed it was six thirty in the morning and my body was exhausted.

however, i found myself rising at 6am, seattle time, a good 2 and a half hours later, to go for my run. 14 miles was on the schedule and so i sleepily stretched and stepped out. WOW! it was kinda chilly. i stepped back in and grabbed a sweatshirt and stepped out again. it was also raining. darn. oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do.

what a great run. i mean the air was so clear and my lungs were smiling. yes, there were hills, the likes of which i hadn't experienced before, but my happy lungs declared - i can do this! and so we did. my pace was good and by the time i got back to the hotel, the girls were getting up and my dear boston friend commented on how happy i looked. "it must have been a good run." and indeed it was. but now it was time to get ready. i jumped into the shower and we got dressed and it was time to go out again.

we picked up a car from the airport and drove around a little, taking in the sights of seattle. then it was off to a reunion barbecue - the reason for the trip. old friends from high school, new friends from around the northwest, and lots of food and drink. we laughed, posed for photos and danced until after 4 in the morning. thankfully the hotel was less than 6 miles away. how do i know this? because i just happened to run right past this house earlier that day. how is that for coincidence? either that or there are very few roads in seattle.

we were up at ten in the morning because we had a brunch cruise to get to. i was dragging a little and my throat was feeling a little dry but nothing that a few lozenges couldn't fix. twenty of us got together and we brunched, and we cruised and, thanks to an awesome patch, i didn't get sick. again it rained on and off though, relative to the days before, it was a pretty good day. after brunch we walked around a little and then it was time for me to get ready to head back. my flight back was at 10pm. and i was beyond tired by the time i got onto the plane.

i grabbed what little snippets of sleep i could on my flight back. i had a stopover in atlanta that had me dragging my beaten up body across from one end of a terminal to the end of another terminal. murphy's law, i tell you. i arrived back in new york at 9am and caught a cab - to work. more than a few people commented on how tired and out of it i looked. i didn't think it was that bad.

apparently that was because i was a bit delirious. by the time i got home, i had a fever and a chill. how does that work? i took something for the fever and wrapped myself up in a blanket for the chill. hidef made me chicken soup and then i got into bed. by friday i finally felt as though i was going to be human again. and by saturday my brain was working well enough for me to know this - the days of my insane college energy where i could pull and all-nighter and still function during the day and then grab a couple of hours of sleep and do it all again? those days are so far behind me, they are practically almost unbelievable legend.

i must accept that i must sleep.

The Yang To My Yin

so this is how my weekday trips to work go:

i undo the chain and then unbolt my dead lock and the lower lock on the door to my apartment and walk out. i then close the door and lock dead bolt and bottom lock. i walk down from the fourth floor and stick my hand gingerly through the hole where a doorknob used to be. I then i push the button that releases the lock on the outer door and head out of my building. i take the train to work and walk over to my work building.

i get to the building and use a security card to gain access to the building's elevators. i head up to the 28th floor and get off the elevator. i punch in a personal secret code on a key card to unlock the door into the offices. i then punch in a second key code and scan my palm. finally i can walk over to my desk.

you wouldn't believe how many times i sit at my desk and frantically try to remember my fire drill class - which levers am i supposed to pull? and then where am i supposed to go? who do i leave behind? what numbers do i call? what will be unlocked? which alarm sounds like what?

that reminds me, since i barely have a door at home, i should check to see if my fire escape is still there.

She Works Hard For The Money

so you get to my building and open a locked door, pass the mailboxes and then get to the above. it used to be a door with a lock and a knob and everything. now it is just a swinging slab of wood with a rather jagged hole in the middle. a while ago the landlord just couldn't seem to get the lock right. sometimes you would turn your key in the lock and nothing would happen. sometimes the lock would stick and the door would be stuck on unlocked. then there were the days the doorknob would come off. a couple of weeks ago i found myself trapped in the building because someone had thought it would be smart to put the doorknob on the other side of the locked door. one evening i came home and thought it was interesting how the wood of the door was chipped away and i could see the inner workings of the lock and its cylinders. it was like some kind of science class - the biology of the lock. i went out for a run and came back to the gaping hole you see above. when leaving the building, you have to stick your hand through the hole and, at the risk of getting splinters in your hand, pull the door open. as i do this i think to myself, if i told anyone right now how much i pay to live here, they'd think i had lost my mind or i was straight up lying. and while we're looking at it; who thought that colour was a nice colour to paint a door, to paint anything?

yesterday i dragged myself over to my building's management office to hand over my rent. it is never a happy moment -one moment i have money in the bank, the next it's gone and i still have a swinging piece of wood with the hole in the middle.

Don't Just Get the Calendar... Use It!!

it must have been a little over a week ago, i went through my archives and realised that on July 22nd, it would be the second anniversary of this here blog. i was all excited and had all these plans to commemorate the day. and guess what? just a few minutes ago i thought, hmmm, when did i start my blog again? when do i qualify for a cupcake and ice cream? well then i am a tad late. i also realised that today i filled in several forms with the wrong date. i know i have problems with dates. it is not a new thing. the thing is, generally, during the week, one day is pretty much like the next or the day before and, well, the weekend is so short, by the time i realise that it's here, it's over. and then, to make things worse, what dates do i really need to know? mom's birthday, two brothers and one sister. in between it's all just a blur where i try to dance and sing and smile as much as possible. and does it really matter what day you do that on?

that said, i do try to get better. i have a calendar on my desk at work - i think i turned it to july (from may) a couple of weeks ago. i have a calendar in my kitchen. i have one on my computer. i set it as the wallpaper on my cellphone. what more can i do? wake up every morning and say - good morning pandave! today is thursday july 31st, have a great day.

in the meantime, i'm going to have a cupcake and ice cream. time is relative, after all, and right now feels relatively like my anniversary!

ADD...

i find myself on the road again for work, trying to figure out where and how to get my training in, but:

last tuesday i was walking to the track to do my "pick ups" (i say pick up because i do pick up my pace but it is nowhere near what one would term a sprint) i had an epiphany. i have never worked so hard at something i will never be good at. i mean, i might get better, i hope i get better, but i will never be good. the only thing i can hope for is that i am doing this when i am 90 and i can win in my age group because i am the only one in my age group.

and yet i still went ahead and completed my workout, even when the deluge came and all but four of us were left on the track, i kept plodding away. i thought, well this is at least the 4th time that i have been caught in the rain and if it rains on marathon day i am still going to have to run so, this is good practice. and i did my 12 miles on saturday and kept going even when it seemed as though everyone and their grandma was lapping me.

and i thought to myself, i wonder if i would have been a different person had i stuck with art even though everyone (myself included) said i sucked at it. would i be able to at least draw a stick figure that looked vaguely human? would i be a better, kinder, softer me?

then i got sweat in my eye and that moment passed.

Look Before You Leap

so, there is a website called one news now that is a christian news site that perhaps is not familiar with the phrase "there are exceptions to every rule". and there is an olympic sprinter called tyson gay. how did the two of these come together? well, first, tyson won at the olympic trials 100m dash and, second, one news now has a filter in its system that automatically changes the word gay into homosexual in any news text that it receives and posts on its site - erm, just so there's no confusion, i am thinking. then the associated press wrote an article about tyson's brilliant race that appeared, in part, thusly on one news now:

Homosexual eases into 100 final at Olympic trials

Tyson Homosexual easily won his semifinal for the 100 meters at the U.S. Olympic track and field trials and seemed to save something for the final later Sunday.

His wind-aided 9.85 seconds was a fairly cut-and-dry performance compared to what happened a day earlier. On Saturday, Homosexual misjudged the finish in his opening heat and had to scramble to finish fourth, then in his quarterfinal a couple of hours later, ran 9.77 to break the American record that had stood since 1999.

Homosexual didn't get off to a particularly strong start in the first semifinal, but by the halfway mark he had established a comfortable lead. He slowed somewhat over the final 10 meters — nothing like the way-too-soon complete shutdown that almost cost him Saturday.

Asked how he felt, Homosexual said: "A little fatigued."

The Important Things In Life

so i started a new job a few months ago and, after spending about a week trying to stay awake through training, i realised that there is a big hole in orientation processes. everywhere i have ever worked, there is one thing that there are no instructions on. and it is a very important thing. the bathroom. i don't know if the bosses think that, at this point, everyone knows how to use a bathroom properly, but they must use the same bathroom. they must know that this is not the case. unless they are the ones not using the bathroom properly and this could not possibly be the case in every office. i understand that this is potentially an uncomfortable conversation - perhaps akin to the birds and the bees talk - but it must be done. so to help, i have put together an outline of a bathroom/loo training session:

1. "if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie" - so much more than a kid-friendly rhyme.
2. you are not in your house - do not assume the loo flushes as well as in your private abode. make sure it's all gone before you head out of the head (you see, i threw a little bad humour in)
3. The wastepaper basket and the floor - two different locations, two different functions.
4. Air freshener is your friend.
5. Air freshener lesson 2 - like perfume, there is such a thing as too much
6. The sink area - not a collection area for your hair and makeup residue.
7. The sink area lesson 2 - the counter area is happier dry

i'm thinking that refresher courses once a year would not be too much to ask for. and maybe we could also have a series on using the paper towels beginning with - no one wants to try to dry their hands with the roll that you just plastered your soaking wet hand on in order to tear off a sheet. but... baby steps.

Lazy Sunday

how was your weekend? i left work on friday and ran a couple of errands - i needed new running shorts and a running skirt (my long pants weren't working so well in the hot humidity). and then i headed home for dinner and music. i remembered that my neighbour was performing at a local bar and so we popped in to listen to him and what a pleasure. he's great. marc anthony... look out!

saturday had me dragging myself out of bed to take a 10 km run. it wasn't fast but i read somewhere that "if it doesn't hurt, then it's called jogging". it hurt quite a bit so it qualifies as running. i got home tired but i had a list of things to do. i took a shower and headed out to shop for a bicycle. i am thinking my knees will thank me for that. i didn't buy anything but i was fitted and checked out the merchandise at two locations. i then went to buy a new pair of running shoes and headed home. i was supposed to pose for a photo project but i ran out of steam. i lay down to take a nap and got up drained. i tidied up a little and then i thought about doing things but my body wouldn't let me. i gave in and then i went to bed.

this morning i got up and dropped off laundry and then i went to the grocery store to get granola. i ambled over to the hardware store to pick up lightbulbs and a lockset. i dropped this stuff home and went to laundromat to wash the items i don't trust the laundromat with. during the load, i went to the cafe a couple of blocks away and had a cappuccino and croissant and read a couple of stories out of the new york times. i headed back and took my laundry home.

then it was time to pull out the lockset and change my locks. i pull out every screw i can see and nothing moves. i google "how to change a lock" but something is amiss. i don't get it. what am i going to do - my door is not looking so good right now. i find a random sentence that inspires me to unscrew a cylinder without fear. everything comes apart and i learn something - my door is made out of metal. and why does that matter? well, the new door knob has screws in different places from the old door knob. sooooo.... so much for the helpful guy at the hardware store. i now have to mix and match on a project i am completely clueless about. fast forward 2 hours - i am left with two doorknobs. one goes in but the other side cannot. i take deep breaths and try again. nothing. i walk away and have a nectarine and try again. nothing. i decide to do my hair and try again. nothing. so now i have a door with one doorknob, damp hair clean laundry.

totally ready for the work week.

My Peers... Oh, Those Peers

so, as i was saying, i was called in for jury duty, a duty i take very seriously. i am passionate about voting and i think that jury duty is important too. for if we do not turn out to judge our peers, then who shall do it? yeah well, that was before i experienced life with my peers.

So, after the video, we were not done. we were about to receive instructions. here is a summary:

• if you don't have a jury duty summons, please leave the room and go to the office down the hall
• please fill in your occupation and whether or not you will be paid by your employer for your time out of the office. we were even given pointers on what professions generally pay by default.
• don't tear off certain parts of the form.
• pass the completed form to the centre of the aisle.

seems simple enough. apparently not. oh man, i look around and people are all, what? what am i supposed to do? tear this? yes? no? what am i supposed to write on the line that says "name"? why are you passing me that pile of paper? because i am at the centre of what? oh, uh, okay.

and then the man in charge started whittling us down to those who qualified for jury duty. those who didn't included:

• parents who had to pick up their kids from school. who knew the system could be so considerate. i wondered how one would be required to prove that. a note from the teacher? the honour system?
• convicted felons. they can't vote either. i suppose once one commits a felony one can never be a member of society. not completely.
• if you couldn't understand what the guy was saying (because your english language skills were limited). the man in charge half-joked "funny how you could understand that!"

i remained seated. very qualified, it seemed. we then received the last set of instructions.

• we had to sit until we were dismissed - the jury work day ended at 5pm
• there were snack and drink machines in the room next door. food and drink were to be consumed in that room and not brought into the jury conference room.
• phones were not to be used in the conference room. all calls were to be made from the snack room

all that was asked of us was to follow these instructions and sit and listen for our names to be called. mine never was - perhaps pandave is too difficult to get one's tongue around. but instead i had to listen to a woman in the phone-forbidden conference room yakking, at the top of her voice, for the entire morning. i am wondering if she thought that turning her back on us to look out the window made her invisible and inaudible. i think others felt the same way because others followed suit. i was itching to walk up to them, tap them on their shoulders and say, "hey! we're still here, right behind you. and we hear every word you say." i was amazed that someone would be able to spend an entire morning chatting on the phone. who has that much to say?

there were moments i prayed my name would be called, just so i could escape the madness of the chatting and, of course, the eating and drinking that went on. instead, i sat until finally dismissed at 4:30pm. 30 minutes early and with a promise that i would not be required to maybe judge my peers for another 8 years. and after spending the day with them, i hope that i shall never need to look to my peers to judge me, not even on whether or not my shoes match my outfit.

Behind It All

so while my internet was down, the state of new york saw fit to call me in for jury duty. yes indeedy, a bunch of letters had determined that i might be a peer, fit to judge others. and i was convinced to go by their threats of jail time and a fine if i didn't make an appearance. so i got a bottle of water and an orange and headed to the court house. my water and orange were confiscated - apparently jury duty is like flying (no liquids). at least i had a bunch of reading material.

i headed up the stairs and into a huge room. what a relief; i had been expecting a cramped closet feel. i must have been looking friendlier than i was feeling because people ignored the empty seats and came to sit next to me. at a little after 8:30 am, the man at the front of the room called the room to order and invited us to watch the "orientation video". were we about to watch how to judge a peer?

the film opened in a forest where a man tied to some wood posts was being half-dragged. i was thinking - did someone put the wrong tape in. nope. this is how they get is passionate about jury duty. a movie about the history of judging folk. narrated by ed bradley (who told them about my love for 60 minutes?) who tells us that it is now "YOUR TURN".

so i learnt that in 400BC aristotle came up with the idea of a jury which was then thrown out by the romans who favoured laws and judges. but then we got to medieval times and the concept of "trial by ordeal". flash back to the forest. popular trials by ordeal included thrusting a hand into boiling water: if the hand healed in 3 days, you were innocent. if not, well then the rest of you was bound to be thrown into boiling water. another trial by ordeal - throwing the accused into water. if you were innocent, you sunk. if you floated, you were guilty. finally a question that had been swirling aimlessly in my head was answered - wouldn't you be dead in both cases? turns out that after sinking for a while, folk were allowed to jump in and try to save their loved ones from the water. ordeal did not always mean death. thank goodness for juries, huh?

did you know that william penn founded pennsylvania? a tad egocentric, right? yeah, he also had something to do with trials by jury. the film was about a half hour long and apparently changed the minds of several characters who told us how they used to dread jury duty but were now changed and happy about serving. i am sure they didn't have to give up an orange and a bottle of water to do so.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

finally, it is done. two techs and one engineer later i have my internet back. all in time to herald the end of my classes. now all i need my internet for is fun stuff. and this is why the wizard granted my wish at last. i mean why give someone internet so they can log in to tedious coursework, homework and exams. if i was going to skip down the yellow brick road, it had to be for smiles, smiles and smiles.

and what did i do while offline? i did think about finding the cures to all that ail us but somehow i found myself doing a lot of housework and moving my clothes back onto the shelves. another milestone - i am no longer living out of plastic bags and i am only moderately afraid of my poisonous floor. but you know what? it was like spring cleaning. i lined my shelves with vibrant lining and folded everything so it is all the same size. i am ready.

so i say, hello summer! hello internet! i'm here - look out!!

16 Weeks To Go

i have signed up for the chicago marathon. last year, injury scaled me back from a marathon to a not-sanctioned-by-physiotherapist half marathon. and i came out of 4 month therapy knowing that i must take my time and be kind to my knees and don't push them to hard. so now i have to get ready for the 26.2 miles by taking longer and longer runs and my knees are giving me a painful run for my money. after a crippling 6 mile run on sunday, i took a few days off and went for three miles yesterday.

oh that run. my knees. so i warmed up at home and did some stretching and walked briskly to the park and stretched some more and then i started running. okay. tried to start running but my knees were all - where do you think you're going? and then at a point my knee buckled and i thought, damn, i haven't even gone 400 metres. but then i thought, if i am going to stagger, i'll stagger my 3 miles. and like half a mile into it i was thinking, i feel like a weigh a tonne, maybe my body is too heavy for my knees. then, as though to prove my point, some skinny and lanky runner sprints past me. i tell myself - pandave, don't let it get to you. don't judge yourself using their yardstick. do what you can. just keep going. it may take you an hour but what you need to do is just do it. by .85 of a mile, the pain was more manageable and the knees had eased up a bit. i no longer felt as though i needed to put some motor oil in them. they allowed me to move them a little. my limp began to finally resemble a run. a very slow run. and that is how it went. until the 3 mile mark. i did it. and then when i felt like going straight home and collapsing, i took the time to do a cool down mile walk before taking my 80 year old knees, one painful step at a time, up to my floor. and THEN i stretched a little. i put ice on the knees and forced myself to sit for a good half hour. and then at last, unable to keep more than one three letter word in my head i obeyed.
bed. bed. bed.

Shhhh...I Won't Tell If You Won't

i don't have internet in my apartment so i am using my neighbour's computer and internet. i couldn't take it any longer... i'm itching to write.

so this is the deal. about a month and a half ago my apartment was fumigated. like put all your belongings in plastic bags fumigated. the preparation was a headache but they told me i could go back in after 24 hours. then as they left i received various instructions

• don't walk on the floor barefoot for at least 30 days.
• don't mop said floors for at least 30 days.
• keep clothes in plastic bags for at least 60 days.
• wash EVERYTHING you own.

so walked back into my apartment after the stipulated 24 hours and was overwhelmed by the confusion i faced. my furniture had been turned upside down and stuck in corners. i thought to myself - thank goodness i don't own a lot of furniture or i really would have been been devastated. i walked around, half-heartedly tried to move a bureau, started sneezing and the left.

over the next couple of weeks, i donned a face mask and entered the apartment and moved furniture back into place, swept floors, and wondered just how poisonous everything was. my eyes would burn and itch and i would get seriously congested. then i would leave. then i took some trips out of town and out of country. i passed through london for all of 24 hours, during which i slept, talked to relatives on the phone and ate nando's chicken. i went to new hampshire for a college graduation. i went to puerto rico to learn how to surf - except it is not surfing season. and, finally, i went to providence for work and went running in the morning using a map that forgot to include the new mall that has blocked off a bunch of roads on my chosen route. i'm sure many drove by me and thought - she's not from around here. i finally got back home last friday and had just enough time to mop (30 days were up!) and tidy up a bit before my new cousin came by for the weekend. oh but i digress.

i got home to NO INTERNET! i called my cable company and they couldn't fix it over the phone - which tends to be my experience everytime something breaks. so i had to set up an appointment for a tech, except the cable company's computers were down. they had to call me back later and when they did all their weekday appointment slots are during times of the day when people are working. i must remember to rant about the absolute inane nature of that business practice. so someoen is coming in on saturday. in the meantime, i am sneaking in and using this machine. because, as i have said before, sometimes you just have to let it out.

shhhh...

Diversion

i am working on a post about what has been going on in my life and today i come across a piece in the paper that i heard about on the news yesterday. a three year old boy was beaten and died in the care of his godmother and her companion. she is 30 and he is 25 and the boy was 3. and there was something that he did that they felt he needed to be punished for. and what did they do to this three year old boy? they forced him to do push ups and march in place. i'm sure THEY don't do push ups themselves - i mean this country is not famous for its svelte population. but they took a boy who is not even ready for the first grade and doused him with cold water and sodomised him. it makes you wonder. the neighbours said they had seen some things that concerned them but they didn't want to butt in - like a freezing cold day where the godmother was bundled up but the baby was barely dressed. i hope they never saw this training for the marines-esque behaviour and thought it was okay.
and, wow, she is 30 and he is 25. they both should know better. but i must know i am wasting rational thought to a couple that sodomised anyone, let alone a 3 year old. i mean seriously, what do you do with folk like this?

well, while we're thinking, let's put them in a subway car with the classic unwashed crazy dude and broken a/c. temperatures are 96 in the shade. let's take our time.

The More Things Change...

as i was browsing the news headlines on google, i spotted the name, kurt loder. i thought what? kurt loder? and then he was writing for mtv.com. and i thought, wait, what is going on? first the kids in the bell bottoms and the drop-waist dresses and the mohawks and now kurt loder is on mtv? am i stuck in time? but then why do my knees feel so old.

for those of you who are thinking - kurt who? i shall clarify. kurt did mtv news BAAAACK in the day. by the time we go to the nineties he was already old for mtv. folk wondered when he was going to leave this network for the youths? how could he remain relevant. and south park portrayed him as a haggard grandpa. in the nineties. now he must look like the keeper of the crypt. i should try watching an episode of south park.

and who has worked at mtv for as long as kurt? i can't think of anyone. i'm sure he's been there since "video killed the radio star." maybe he's their good luck mascot, their rabbit's foot or four-leaf clover, so to speak. maybe in the morning when people get to work, they walk by kurt loder and rub his tummy for luck. what fun. is he ticklish? does he giggle uncontrollably, like the pilsbury doughboy, as people walk in and rub away? and then that puts a smile on everyone's face and mtv is then a brighter, more fun place to be. yep. that must be it.

Bad Medicine

my current default magazine is new york magazine. i like that the articles can be long, but not too long. i love that it tells me a lot about what is going on in new york. and it's great because i can sit on the train, get through it, and sound all finger on the pulsy about issues and, just like great icing, there's a crossword puzzle on the back page.

so a couple of weeks ago the mag does a piece on suicide tourism - it seems more people than normal (however normal is calculated) travel to new york to kill themselves. hmmm... interesting, but not as facsinating as the documentary film "the bridge" that kept me awake for two weeks. but then, continuing with the morbid subject matter, the next week there was a piece about death on the subway tracks.

58 people died on the subway tracks. 58!!! thats like more than one a week. and i heard about like maybe 4 of them. and i'm just saying that so i sound like i heard about something but, beyond the subway hero (who didn't die) i can't think of any adventures on the tracks i read about. i am already paranoid about those tracks. i watched those breakdance movies in the '80s and i don't know how people can tell which track is electrified, because i sure as heck can't. and what if something goes awry and the wrong track gets the current? i just have an image of a youth being zapped seared into my memory. apparently most of those deaths are suicides (no numbers given).

some were homeless or drunk people who wandered onto the tracks. those are some brave wanderers. have they not seen those tracks? the rats are as big as blooming cats! massive. and the tracks are vile, soggy dark places. i don't know how anyone went down there to breakdance or grafitti. brave.

others fell onto the tracks while urinating between cars or surfing on top of cars. and then a final lot fell or were pushed onto the tracks. and you see, that last category could be me. and so it's like new york magazine looked into a receded corner of my mind and pulled out a fear, told me it was completely rational and ran with it. and then made me work in places with narrow, crowded platforms.

so, if you are on that platform and you see someone clinging to the wall behind them for dear life or taking that extra step back when a train is approaching, just say hi pandave and wag a finger at the new york magazine. what happened to the "best places to eat" stories???

Darkness

you know what really gets my goat? i know, i know, you're thinking, "pandave, shall we bring sandwiches to this picnic, it's probably going to take a while." so let me whittle it down a bit. you know what gets my goat today? oh, no still too long a list. okay, right now. what gets my goat right now?

ELECTRICITY. nigeria's electricity to be precise.

my dear friend kai has been in nigeria for years now and, if i quoted her every time she said the lights were out, i would have a tome to challenge war and peace. but let me tell you what gets me riled up. first of all, when obasanjo came into power he was all giddy with the excitement of his win that he made all kinds of promises - one of them being "uninterrupted power" for Lagos. two terms later, the one thing i could guarantee with kai was that the lights would go out while we were chatting online. and that she would be spending a substantial amount of time queuing for petrol to power the generator (and don't get me started on why folk in the 6th largest oil producer in opec has people queuing for overpriced petrol). and one thing she could be sure of was a monthly electric bill that never took into account the atrocious service the power supplier was giving. instead people were just expected to shake their heads and resignedly sigh "ah, NEPA (National Electricity Power Authority)". of course obasanjo never went a day in the dark. he never had to figure out how to sleep in the heat of summer with no air conditioner. he never had to wonder what he was going to do about all the stuff rotting in his fridge.

we now have had a new president and still no power. and now kai goes for days, no weeks, on end with no power. she now has two generators and tries not to think about how much money she could save if she didn't have to spend it all on petrol for the generator.

and so now i read on the bbc that obasanjo has written a letter trying to defend his lack of progress. he refused to attend said meeting, he said, because the person who signed the invitation was too lowly for his attention. not because he should be too ashamed to try to defend the $16 billion that have been spent with no improvement in power supply. not because he would be hard pressed to the payment of millions to 34 companies that never existed. because maybe someone at the meeting might ask him what happened to the promises that he made. instead, he implored the investigation panel to stop looking into what is going on because this would scare off private investors - as they don't want to feel "criminalised". oh yes panel, you stop your probe because the previous probeless years resulted in such gains... financially... for the investors who just had to sit around and wait for the hook up.

yeah, let's just keep on lining up for fuel for our generators and sitting in stifling darkness so that billions more can be spent making private partners feel good. as long as the presidential palace has uninterrupted power, that is what matters. the rest of you can just eat cake batter.

Anger Management Classes

the other day i read about a 16 year-old boy who was shot in an argument. he and another youth were at a subway station. the other youth left and came back with a gun. i read this and was fascinated by how easy it seems to get a guy, especially since new york city has some of the strictest gun laws in the country. i know, i know, this is the nation of 2nd amendment rights and so strictest gun laws may mean nothing, but i don't know anyone with a gun, if that counts.

anyhoo, i thought and i realised that i really cannot afford to get too angry. first of all, if i left in a huff, to go home and pick up a handy weapon to express said anger, i would be thinking, 'how angry am i really? am i prepared to stomp up the four flights to my apartment?'
even if i decided that i was that angry, by time i got up there, i probably would have huffed and puffed my anger away. i would need to sit down, take a deep breath and have a glass of water. after all that, who could still be upset?

well, say i was still angry. then i would need to hunt around for a weapon which, in my home would come down to my always-not-sharp-enough kitchen knives or my super-heavy, DIY work hammer. both large and inconvenient. i doubt i would get far too far down the street before someone tackled me to the ground.

makes more sense to smile and brush it off, huh?

Eliot Mess

so there is a story in new york that was beaten to death, picked up and beaten again.
and out of it all, i ended up with lyrics to my next song.

Eliot Spitzer, you were a hero that couldn't be beat
Taking on those greedy, rich thugs over on Wall Street
Insurance companies that did us bad
As Attorney General, you were our honourable, righteous lad

CHORUS:
From behind the desk, shaking her head
The legal receptionist looked over and said
"$5,500 to polish a knob!
That girl better have done a helluva job."

And when, as Governor, your popularity dove
I blamed other party tactics, the likes of Karl Rove
You still seemed, to me, to be a man of the people
And always stand as tall and straight as a steeple

CHORUS

And when i heard the whispers, stars of rumours on the news
I thought "it's just the haters, trying to take over your shoes"
Even when it was "press conferenece, keep tuned in, it's coming up"
I was all, "He'll just say it's all lies, you gossippers just shut up."

CHORUS

And when the headlines taunted "Eliot Phone Ho"
I still covered my ears, shook my head and shouted "No, no, no!"
But you stood up, no confession, jsut a forgive me please
I rolled my eyes, shook my head, sighing finally, "You too Eliot? Geez!"

CHORUS:
From behind the desk, shaking her head
The legal receptionist looked over and said
"$5,500 to polish a knob!
That girl better had done a helluva job."

*thanks to the receptionist at law firm mumble mumble, for her can't get out of my head comment that inspired this ditty.

Is It The Tilt That Did It?

so i am sitting here wondering, what is wrong with the world. you know why? i'll tell you why...

1. i went out and got me some chicken noodle soup. the chicken comes first but it is the last thing i can find in this soup. why?
2. there was an ad in the paper - shorts on sale from $10*. i looked at the bottom of the page to see what the conditions the star was referencing were. first thing i see - shorts pictured not on sale. so... um... why put them in the ad? how ugly are sale shorts that they couldn't make the ad? is this unabashed bait and switch?
3. why do reporters say such inane things. last night i caught coverage of the pennsylvania primary returns and there was a random district that obama won. well, the reporter explained, it's because no one lives there. just 11,000 people - he pauses, and points at the screen - and some schools. well, i say, it's great that obama can depend on the school vote. i hope he remembers to thank them in his next stump speech.
4. a magazine declared that this year "breasts are out". well, ladies, i hope you have space in storage. you take those breasts off, makes sure you wrap them well to protect against mould and moths and pack those breasts away until they are fashionable again.
   

i know i have more questions but i have a huge distraction. the sun is shining and the air is warm. i can't believe it! is spring here? wait, wait, don't answer. i'm going outside.

Deflated

today i wake up feeling a little flat. the air of excitement has been forced out...pffffffft.
the new york african film festival is over. i wait all year for it to come around, wondering what the theme will be, where the films will come from, what they'll be about. will there be comedies? dramas? something that makes me cry? and then the flyers come in the mail with the information and i get excited - it's coming, it's coming.
and every year the films are amazing. i want to watch nearly all of them. every year the festival seems too short, here and then gone in a blink of an eye. every year the festival brings new curious, and excited film-watchers. this year i got to watch only two films - an epic about namibia and it's first president sam nujoma and a pilot of a television show about the slave trade. both films were oh so enlightening. i kept thinking to myself, namibia was so close geographically to zimbabwe and yet i grew up almost clueless about what was going on there. i mean they got their independence only in 1990 and the world barely noticed, it seems. or was that just me? and the pilot touched on the indian ocean slave trade. you know, there are times when history overwhelms me and i feel as though i am drowning in the things that people do. thankfully the theatre was dark so no one saw the tears. i found out about a slave uprising in what is now known as basra. and the question was asked - where are those people? the former east africans who were taken to the middle east in earlier centuries. where are they indeed? we were fortunate enough to meet one woman from dubai who has dedicated her life to trying to trace her history and, one day, intends to take the ship journey her ancestors were forced to take.

and then i volunteered over the weekend. i met new and passionate young people who were so very excited to be there and determined to help the festival grow and impact more people. i got to sit and answer questions, to try to convince people to get the 15th anniversary t-shirt, to encourage visitors to return for more film. not that i really had to. so many were moved and felt as though their eyes had been opened to things they had never even considered. others felt a connection, an understanding, an 'oh, i am not alone. others experience this too.' everyone came out recommending that i watch the film i had just missed - "i hope you find a way; that was a great film."

but now it is over. and i am deflated. another year to wait again. pfffft. oh but there is the summer outdoor series - a little air. and the festival does show a few films in brooklyn - a little air. and maybe if we work hard the whole year the festival will be bigger and longer and with more films and... and...