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...

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions...

so, after hemming and hawing and suit-and-heels-wearing while trying to look enthusiastic about just about everything during two hour interviews that start at 8 am, i started a new job on monday. thankfully, i picked the place where i don't have to wear a suit and heels which is great because all that pavement pounding killed my fatigued-from-marathon-training feet. i picked the place that appears to want pandave, not susan and i feel good about it.

so on monday morning i headed out and got on the train. and then got stuck because there was a sick passenger on the train. if no one else, new york commuters must be big supporters of workers' rights. there is little more infuriating than being stuck between stations because the train ahead of you has been delayed in order to deal with a sick passenger who has no job security and so will drag him or herself into the office, even when they feel the grim reaper breathing down their back.

so i was late for my first day of work. great start. i get into the elevator and press the button for the 28th floor. the elevator shoots up and when it stops i swear my stomach has been left on the 19th floor. can one get motion sickness from elevators? i'm clutching the corners of the car but there is a man in the car with me and so i try to smile at him so that i don't get him concerned and i stagger out into the office. i have decided that i shall not eat within an hour of riding the elevators in this building.

then i spent the day training which was necessary yet very tedious. oh for the day where training is set to a catchy tune and coupled with a little dancing. i actually excused myself a couple of times to go to the ladies room and jump up and down to get the brain working again. oh and that bathroom - i went to flush the loo and the water started coming up, instead of down. naturally, i started talking to it - no, no, go down, don't do this to me!
a woman walked in and so i asked her what one does and she told me that the stall i had chosen was a bit "slow" so i should just flush again. great advice. the water came up even higher.
she shrugged and left the room. i stood and started praying, promising everything short of the souls of my unborn children - just please don't overflow! phew. a centimetre more and no one would have forgotten me in that office.

looking back on the day i have made a very important decision - next time i start a new job on a tuesday. it's not as though i don't know about monday.

All About Craving

two weeks ago today i woke up and declared that i wanted chocolate cake. real chocolate cake. soft and warm and rich and fresh and, preferably with chocolate icing on it. so, it was suggested, by a wise man who has been living in the neighbourhood and actually explored it, that i go to the 4pm yoga class and get cake from a wonderful bakery around the corner. great idea, i was psyched.

later in the day, as i sweated in the hot and humid and very funky room and felt as though i was about to pass out, my mantra was "chocolate cake afterwards. as i came up from camel and dizziness threatened to overwhelm me? "chocolate cake afterwards."

class ended and i staggered to the shower and changed into fresh, dry and not sweaty clothing and headed out the door. adrenalin gave bounce to my step as my exhausted body rounded the corner to find... the bakery was closed! what a long and defeated walk home.

and for the next week, at every meal, i imagined cake for dessert and yet, somehow, could not think of where to get it. at the wedding i stuffed myself with calamari, italian sausage and other tempting food. i even had a mini chocolate éclair. i was stuffed and could barely even think of moving when the wedding cake came around. chocolate. but no space in my belly! i ate it and it was good but it came too late and the so the desire remained unsated. i came back to new york and still cake occupied my every other thought.

on tuesday i headed out to visit the doctor and, on my way home i passed a cafe and out front - chocolate cupcakes. with chocolate icing. i walked past, turned around and came back. so it was lunchtime, so what? i walked in and ordered my cake and a latte, grabbed a fork and some serviettes and sat down. next to me, on either side, diners ate salad, but i didn't care. you know one of the great things about being a grown up? most of the time mom isn't around to tell you that you can't have chocolate cake for lunch. uh uh. i'm sure new york could see my smile for miles. i wouldn't be surprised if the city felt a little warmer for about 15 minutes on tuesday afternoon.
ah... chocolate cake.

Mmmm... Mmmm Good

in zimbabwe any reason is reason enough for a barbecue. so, you said there's a butchery around the corner? let's braai some meat. huh, you bought new earrings? barbecue. wait, that's a braai stand over there? where's the meat? let's get busy!

it's officially spring here in new york but it seems no one told the weather that so it is rainy and close to freezing. but i am going to a pre-wedding barbecue today. i can barely contain myself. even if it snows. wait wait -that's a good reason too!

Please Drive Slow, Dust Kills Our Trees

my mother knows just how to make my day. i was on holiday in zimbabwe last year and she looked over at me and said "i'm going over to ian smith's farm, do you want to come?"
she didn't have to ask me twice. i packed my camera and we set off. it wasn't a farm. it was a small town. and, for me, this sign said it all.

i have all kinds of feelings about ian smith and the history of rhodesia in general. but at the end of the day i thought to myself - this is history. this is the past and my feelings were somehow made more real because of where i was. and looking around the magnificence that was like a small town or, in some places, a country, i was a bit overwhelmed. but i took pictures. and my mother got a ram.

I'm So Excited!

a competition i can really get behind. with passion. with all my heart. and all my free time.
the ncaa basketball championship. i enter without prejudice because i have watched almost none of the season's games. and yet i enter with passion because there is some excellent ball playing going on. so far three of the underdogs have conquered and who doesn't like a feel good story where the underdog comes out on top? those with a lot of money on the game that's who, but we over in this corner are all for the little people.

you see the coaches and sometimes even the players pontificating but sport tv is clever - you can't hear a word they say. folk go red in the face, spittle shoots from their mouths and you think, oh, it must be really important. but you can't be sure and so no bubbles are burst and in no time we are back to the action and the muted suits are soon forgotten. there are some lessons here for the current election coverage but i fear that perhaps the so-called journalists and newspeople are too busy following a "story" to learn any lessons. but i won't complain, for once the ball games are over, i shall be back with them. i am thinking maybe i should work on a whole album of songs. yeah, that's it a whole album... but wait, three point play!!!

i gotta go!

My Story And I'm Sticking To It

thursday early morning my phone rings and i don't recognise the number. "hello," i say as i am still groggily wondering who is calling me. i hear a voice respond that i really don't recognise - but since i didn't recognise the number, i am hardly surprised. the voice sounds a little breathless and faint and yet the person is speaking to me in a familiar manner. "i'm in labour," the voice let's me know and then it hits me.
it's my aunt! but she was not due for a couple of weeks. ah well, babies, apparently they do things like surprise us. i leap out of bed and start running in confused circles. how do i find you? i'm on my way! no, don't try small talk, you're in labour. i'll be right there.

my new cousin finally arrived at almost 9 pm, and has been facsinating us ever since. this was him at one and a half days old. he is very generous with the expressive faces. and, it seems, too lazy to cry to often or too hard. i think i have become that obnoxious share pictures with everyone person. but... oh so worth it.

Rap My Knuckles!

so the last few months have been a little roller coastery (living in america means being able to create your own words, conversate). i mean one moment i was jogging along, dreaming of the new york marathon and the next i was being told i needed surgery that would keep me out of work for almost two months - and during year end, preparing for the auditors time, too??? granted it came with a great visit from my awesome cook fabulous caretaker mom but did it have to hurt so much? and i went from that to work challenges that have me now working the interview circuit. yeah, i think i totally rock but somehow i have to find the right buzz words to convince you of the same. maybe next interview i'll just hand over a link to this blog and say - well that's me, right there. strengths, weaknesses, love songs, you are almost dead to me songs. the whole shebang. take me, leave me but please don't think i can sit through two hours of interviews at 8:30 in the morning. my blog will make it patently clear that i am so not a morning person. and i have discovered that i am not very good at filtering the truth in the early hours of the a.m.

but i digress. it is not yet time for me to spearhead the change the working hours movement to something more civilised. i mean seriously, if one is not to have a cocktail before noon, how is one to do anything else of any importance before then?

again, my thoughts wandered. what i wanted to say is that i have been neglecting me. i wasn't running (first because i could barely walk but then because something like angst was slowing me down). and then i really was avoiding the blog - oh i didn't want to sound angry, sometimes i didn't want to sound sad and other days i was all - well who wants to hear about what made me laugh today. then i did what any interviewer should do - i looked back at my little rambling missive to those who stumble upon it and realised that i am all of those things on the regular. one thing i know i am not is a bland opinionless (yeah, made that up too; i'm on a roll) so-and-so who rationally discusses issues that require no opinion (is that possible?) and you know i need to practice what i preach. i need to let it on out. i need to be good to pandave. because i am sure that they are all kinds of words of wisdom about living life, but i tell you this, keeping it all in is yuck. pom poms!!! rah rah!!!!

Gimme A Beat!

a song came to me. unbidden its words formed in my notebook. it came at an excellent time. it is award season. perhaps some musical genius with a golden statue to their name will put a tune to the string from my soul...


You played into my life - shades sax and song
I knew right then, you could never do wrong
Even when they talked about you and the girl in the thong
I never wavered, never faltered, my heart to you always did belong

CHORUS:
How could you, Bill, play me like that
Play me like a wii
I tell you this, after all that
You are almost dead to me

"Let me hear you talk about trash about my man," I used to dare
The voices of the haters I would silence with a withering stare
And I kept telling myself that you really did care
That nothing could destroy the dream of you and me as a pair

CHORUS

THE BRIDGE:
With your words you spun a web,
I was your prisoner
My love for you would never ebb
I was your prisoner
Bewitched, bespelled, beyond saving
But you found a way to destroy it, it all caved in

But then you started talking smack, bringing a brother down
My glowing smile at your voice turned into a frown
Remember how, in my eyes, you always wore a crown
Now all i see is a mean, not so fun, clown

CHORUS:
repeat to fade...

thanks to jimmy holla xo, for inspiring me and encouraging me to let it all out.

All Animals Are Created Equal

the country is caught up in primary fever. for whatever reason - iraq, the economy stupid or maybe just bad reality tv - people are ready for a change. and so, in record numbers, people have registered and actually go out to vote. i am not sure what record numbers really means, since the united states has a reputation for low voter turnout. it doesn't help much that if you have been convicted of a felony you can go to jail, serve your time and yet eternally lose the right to vote.

but i digress - as i have been known to do. but so we are going through the primary elections - someone wins here, someone else wins there and yet the tallies don't agree with the wins and then, just to make things even more confusing, the numbers are different depending on which news source you go to. but then people stopped and said, hey! what's going on? how can it be so complicated? don't the people go and vote and elect their representative?

turns, out, no, not really. it turns out that we the people, all created equal, go out and vote for the candidate we like or at least prefer over the others. but it doesn't end there. there are those who have been created more equal. they get an extra vote and their vote is worth a lot of votes. how more equal? well, we the people count for 80% of the vote. 796 super-people count for 20% of the vote. what does that mean? well in a nation of about 300 million people, let's say that a third are democrats - 100 million. of these maybe half are eligible to vote, that's 50 million. and half turn up to vote - we are now at 25 million. 25 million vs 796? that's a heck of a lot of more equal, in anyone's book.

what really kicks is that people are sitting around debating how superdelegates can be part of a democratic process and there are people that sit and talk and blow a WHOLE LOT OF HOT AIR and somehow thinks this makes sense. they throw out phrases like - dedication to the party, party activists, those loyal to the party. and i am not sure what that is supposed to mean. is there a test, to determine more-equality? why didn't i get the memo?

superdelegates in the democratic party as part of the democratic process. yes. no irony at all in that phrase.

Everything's Relative

i was tagged by the ever fascinating world traveller fb and so i shall take this expose of the unimportant very seriously. for what doesn't matter to me, may in fact be the be all and end all for someone who stumbles upon my soul-baring...

The Rules:
- Link to the person that tagged you.
- Post the rules on your blog.
- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. I have left/right issues (and almost no sense of direction). i find it amazing that there are people out there that do not have to think about it when someone says "raise your right hand." it is something i remember more these days because, in my yoga class, left and right are very important to the teachers. so there i am, trying to twist myself like a pretzel and then i hear, "okay now take your right hand and wrap it around your left thigh" and i can't see my foot to figure out if i am holding the scarred left one or not and i check for a watch because my hands are behind me holding me up and i just want to scream - hey, toward the mirror or away from the mirror would help so much right now. but, there's no screaming in yoga. screaming is not zen.
   
2. since my surgery a few months back, i have a scar at the bottom of my stomach that looks like a big smile. so remember, if we ever fall out and i look all mad at you, know that always, a part of me is still sunnily smiling right at you. while still giving me street cred.
   
3. despite my many threats to kick people's butts, i consider myself to be a pacifist. some refer to me as an idealist. others use the term "silly fool." i suppose this might make me strong enough to be president of switzerland. they don't go to war, right? and they have great chocolate. i'm thinking the president might qualify for some free chocolate.
4. i am allergic to mangoes. not epi-pen allergic. but more irritating rash allergic. do you know what i am drinking now? mango nectar. that is how good mangoes taste.
5. i can't throw away a book. even one that i have not enjoyed reading. i find it far easier to find space in my new york apartment (known in other cities as a walk in closet) and install yet another bookshelf. i think i am currently at 5 shelves. maybe i should have a book giveaway/exchange party. that shouldn't be too painful.
   
6. i have a terrible internal thermostat. as a result, i tend to have horribly cold hands and feet. sometimes i meet people and shake their hands and they hold on for longer, rubbing a hand between two of theirs - almost without thinking about it. to these kind souls, thank you. it makes such a difference.

the people i have chosen to tag are very super important. their views on the world, well...
dodos - everytime i go and there are a few words, and a picture that makes me go hmm...
tunga - always you make me giggle.
prettylyf - always positive, always poetic
carla - you take a lens and well, see what you did with snow and a bikini?
skyelarke - it seems you see so much and your soul remains beautiful.
tjidzani - so wonderfully lyrical.

Rarified Air

i recently did a spot of travelling and i don't think i'll get used to it. i mean not until the travel industry starts behaving in a logical manner. i mean as though they realise that it is people, mostly paying people, travelling in their system, not their worst enemies, being pushed to their limits until they finally break and beg for mercy - if they can still be coherent at that point.

first, before you go anywhere - the restrooms? so you are at a place where you are probably lugging luggage around with you - even if it is just your carry-on, it still a substantial addition to your girth. and what do they give you? restrooms with door that open INWARDS so you have to squeeze yourself, your luggage AND THE DOOR into the tiny space that is already half full of lavatory.

i suppose it is to get you ready for you are going to spend the next two to twenty hours. in a seat designed for a twelve-year old aneorexic with leg room that is ample only if you are three feet tall. two people can't pass each other in the aisle and god forbid you need to go to the bathroom during the flight; it seems as though the whole plane has to stand up and get out of your way. so what was the thinking? let's create a wonderful invention that helps us travel long distances in little time. then, let's do everything we legally can to make it the worst experience of their lives. short of putting pins in the seats, the sky's the limit. and then, for a while, let's give them little things that make the experience almost bearable - such as minuscule pillows and blankets and meals and beverages. and just as the travellers become accustomed to this, let's take it all away and charge them $5 for a tiny packet of potato chips and another $5 for a drink to wash away the bitterness at being taken for a ride. and i can't even try to bring a free drink from home. no... security takes that away from me - it must be a conspiracy.

finally, those airlines that do not have in seat tv screens must be put on notice. seriously, giving people those neck-cramp and eye-strain inducing screens in the middle of the aisle that you can't focus on due to all the aisle traffic, the incredible distance you are from the tiny screen and the impractical placement of the screen, is just cruel and unusual punishment. and for all of that, as you creak your way out of the plane at the end of the ordeal the smiling stewards and air hostesses chirp "thank you for flying with us! come again soon!"

i say this - sadists of the world, do you wish to truly satisfy the need to bring pain and suffering? start an airline. all you need to do is waltz up and down the aisles and i guarantee the plight of the travellers will bring you satisfaction. guaranteed.

Cutting Edge Fashion

i don't get it? where have i been? when did the machete make it as the weapon accessory of choice? i tell you, it's like i blink and i miss ten trends. back in school i learnt about machetes, as the instrument sugar cane growers used to cut down the cane. but that was back in the day before combine harvesters and stuff. machetes were a part of history and good riddance too. that word flummoxed me; was it a mah-shet or a ma-shet-tee? thank goodness i only had to read and write the word in class - it had no use in everyday conversation.

but i should have known that if bell-bottoms could make a comeback, so could the machete. first, in rwanda, people were massacred using machetes. and i wondered - where did they get so many? was someone planning on starting a massive plantation?

then recently a football player was shot and killed in his home in south florida. apparently he heard people breaking into his home, so he dove under his bed, grabbed his machete and tried to go out to investigate. machete? under his bed? really?

a couple of weeks later, i am watching a documentary about skinheads. 4 youths went out in search of a black drug dealer to beat down and instead came across a drug user in an alley. when they stepped forward to beat him with the baseball bats they were holding, he pulled out a machete. on the streets, machete beats baseball bat. isn't a machete kinda large? when ambling around dark alleys, how does one casually holster a machete?

and now in kenya, the machete is all over the place, and not in a good way either. reporters all over the world are having to learn how to pronounce the word. machete has entered everyday conversation. along with non-sensical phrases like ethnic cleansing - used in sentences by world leaders in sentences like "there is a lot of violence, but we will not go as far as to call it ethnic cleansing."

well now in kenya they are in the middle of "hard" talks. i am not sure if that means that talking will be difficult in between the tea and sandwiches and committee-forming that comes with talks or that the talks will be hard on the exploding new fashion trend. but i am recommending that the chadian rebels hold out on their action for a few days - they may be able to get a great deal on used machetes - more money for campaign phone calls and pamphlets.

Is That You John Wayne? Is This Me?

years ago i was looking for a job and a headhunter called me. none that is appropriate in the workplace, i responded. of course, that was before i met oscar. so he advised me to get one. why? i wondered. well, he said, something nice and american like Mary or Susan. why would i do that, again i wondered. turns out that, according to this man, most companies wouldn't hire me with my name. apparently it is too intimidating to a hirer to come across a name that is new to them. qualifications be damned, companies are willing to run their companies into the ground before they hire someone whose name they might have to learn to pronounce. perhaps if my name were Axkilling McMassmurderer, i may have considered this suggestion. instead, after telling this headhunter where to get off, i carried on with my life, for a few years.

then i was back on the job market and decided to try something out. i posted my resume and applied to jobs using two resumes. both were identical except one had pandave's name at the top and the other had susan's. within days susan had been contacted by several companies; pandave was ignored. not a single call. completely forgotten. pandave started to wonder how she would feel if susan was hired. how would pandave feel about ceasing to exist (at least from 9 to 5 and at holiday parties)? how would pandave feel about having to cover up her dreadlocks with a straight-haired "work-appropriate" wig. how long would it be before pandave ripped of the wig, jumped onto her desk and screamed "my name is not susan!"

so pandave annihilated susan before susan destroyed pandave. the working relationship had turned sour. pandave was becoming bitter and her self-confidence was eroding.

and now i am thinking of putting my resume out there and the ghost of susan whispers in pandave's ear. she shakes her head and says "i don't need you susan. pandave can do and be herself."
"i see," susan whispers, her wig tickling pandave's neck, "i'll stick around, just in case."

Be Still My Beating Heart...

i am in love. have been for a while so i know it must be real. i shouldn't be - he's no good for me but i know that to have him will bring me untold joy. he stands behind the glass and flirts with me. when i have begun to convince myself that i can do without him, that i can move on and forget him, he comes back to taunt me with his wonderful features. i can imagine stroking his smooth face and making all kinds of magical things happen. he is so beautiful and probably full of things i don't really need and yet my heart yearns to have him in my life. i have waited for months and months; waited to see if this is what i really want. the feelings grow stronger.

ipod touch, how and why do you do this to me? you know i don't need you, why do you make me want you? and as i turn away you hit me in my achilles heel. how can i resist your song?

"music is my boyfriend
music is my girlfriend
music is my daddy
music's my imaginary friend"

Can You See Me?

ok. so they have these fluorescent green pigs. but that's so yesterday's news because that happened a couple of years ago and, well they have glow in the dark fish and rabbits and god only knows what else. apparently all it takes is a little fluorescent protein and your world is an awesomely lit disco. i am not sure how fluorescent green proteins are made but i am sure it is all totally safe, or else the scientists wouldn't do it.

but the news news is that one of pigs had piglets and the piglets have glow in the dark powers too. i mean, they're not as cool as their mom; they only glow from their snouts, ears and trotters. that said though, it's still a savings in fluorescent green protein. recycling! being green is all the rage, don't you know?

but this is not just about how to be the coolest person under the strobe lights. it turns out that glow-in-the-dark piglets are the first step to breeding pigs for human transplant organs. and that's fine. we can multi-task. save lives while making life more awesome!

We Want The Funk!

yesterday i took my first bikram yoga class. i had heard about it, i had read about it and i had thought - hmmm... it would be nice to go one day. so i suppose yesterday was that day. first thing that hit me when i got into the studio? the funk. okay maybe the heat hit me first. but it was like a split second later when i thought - wow it's kinda funky in here. funky like my gym clothes the day after a super intense boxing class. sometimes i walk into the studio at the gym or at dance class and there is a shadow of this funk but let me tell you, at 100 degrees farenheit with no fans, body odour really gets the chance to come into its own. and then you know the first thing you have to do when you encounter this heat wall of human essence? breathe in deeply. over and over again.

and as i did i thought - so this is what they were thinking when they created funk. we want music so strong you can smell it. and... exhale.

Ok Ok I'm Going To Bed Now

i told myself i was going to ignore it all. i was going to stay out of it. i was going to watch sponge bob square pants. but then cnn was describing the rules of the iowa caucus and boy do people like to make everything complicated. you'd think all you had to do was vote for who you want but no... the throw in percentages and people standing in rooms and moving to the corner of their favourite candidate. and then some people get to vote again - which is kinda cool. i would so totally vote for the underdog just so i could say i got to vote twice in one election. looking at all of that i don't know why all of iowa isn't out voting tonight. it's just so much fun and convoluted and barely able to be understood.

and then results started coming in and then i was riveted. there was a basketball game going on but this was more exciting. i mean, for a while there no one knew how it was all going to turn out. and now it has turned and, well wow. first, thank you huckabee for letting me see just how well chuck norris is aging. even though she came third, has any woman done as well as hillary clinton in any american presidential primary election? thank you john edwards you do help the election become a better looking place. but barack obama? you rock. but please come on and make your dramatic history-making win speech soon because it's almost past my bedtime. and thanks for getting cnn to mention kenya in their primary election coverage. i tell you that obama is working miracles in so many amazing ways. hear my request...
speech! speech! speech!!!

Two, Four, Six, Eight! Who Do We Appreciate?

i stand on subway platforms a lot; almost every day, actually. i stand and, as i am waiting for my train, i look at the tracks and wonder why people insist on throwing trash there. there are always trashcans on the platform, why do they have to chuck trash onto the tracks where it hangs about, seemingly forever. i also stand and wonder which track is electrified. i have watched several breakdance movies from the 80s and one thing that has stuck with me since (apart from the moves i am yet to master) is how dangerous the tracks are and how easy it appears to be to get electrocuted on said tracks. oh yes, and then you have the big as cats rats that live there. they hang about and stare me down until, with a shiver that still leaves me dirty, i turn away and try to think of something else.

many times over the last year i have thought about the subway hero. a man who jumped onto aforementioned filthy, electrified and vermined tracks to save a guy's life. oh, did i mention that there was a train bearing down on them, and that he had to then roll the guy under and lie on those, yes, filthy, electrified and vermined tracks? yeah. i think about him often and wonder if i could ever be so brave. i mean this hero lay on top of the guy and covered him with his body, to keep him safe from the passing train. he just acted; didn't think twice. then he went to work. i was telling my brother about him and my brother looked on the tracks. they weren't even looking so bad that day and, well, what can one say?

today is the first anniversary of this amazing rescue and i say hurrah for people like Wesley Autrey and if we can't have more people like him, maybe cleaner, animal free subway tracks (if we HAVE to have animals, we don't mind rabbits) and big signs right on the electrified tracks. ooh, ooh, and trains with really high clearance.