Political Bullshit

Guys, ( and by this I mean parlaiment) get the fuck over yourselves.  Did you know that this is 2008?  Did you know the ANC won the election in 1994?  It’s been 14 years, when will the AA and BEE stop or at least give the all other race groups a chance?  I have a friend who is struggling to find employment, in the old regime she was too black, in the new regime she is too white.  WTF??

Here’s why I have the bee in my bonnet: yesterday I drove past a newspaper headline on one of those board thingies on the side of the road, Business Day if I’m not mistaken, once again saying that there is a brain-drain in SA.  Duh, of course there is, anyone with a degree and any amount of selfrespect would like to be appointed to a position because of their skills and talents, not just to make up a quota.  Most of the intelligent hard working ‘quota’ employees have a chip on their shoulder, never sure if they were appointed for their set of skills or just to make up the numbers.  How shitty is that?  That is why they want to leave, to prove that they DO have what it takes to make it in countries where their talents and degrees determine if they get the job, not the colour of their skin.  It is degrading for these friends and colleagues to feel this way and to the ‘guys’ I mentioned before: you are not empowering anyone, you are robbing people of their dignity and sense of self worth. 

Sports quota’s?  The most ridiculous thing I have heard of.  Heard over the radio this morning that the SA Men’s Hockey team is now also expected to ‘quotafy’ their team.

Come on, do you remember what sport is about?  The Olympics?  T A L E N T, H A R D  W O R K and sending the best representative in that respective event to do what they do best for their country.  How will any athlete know if they are really good enough to be where they are or if they are just there to make up the numbers.  Once again, an insult to a possibly great athlete to not be sure if he is just a ‘race representitive’ or if he is really talented.

Ever watched ‘Remember the Titans’?  If not, do rent it.

How can we be expected to ‘unite as a nation’ when not everyone gets a fair chance?  Of course that brings about resentment, I am not the brightest crayon in the box, but even I can tell that the tension with the xenophobia is building up to breaking point.  What the hell is the problem with migration and immigration between countries?  I have never heard of Canadians mass murdering South African immigrants?

As for the brilliant ‘we will have this under control by Friday’ statement, I have one question for you dickhead: why can’t you do the same for crime and save your OWN people too?  Diffuse the situation by proving that the crime is not about nationality, rather about criminals, regardless of race, nationality or social standing.

Fuck.  I hate politics.

 

There once was a girl . . .

I have been reading blogs A LOT lately.  Picking them off my normal blog check-ups at random.  I particularly liked http://iarewearingthejeanpant.blogspot.com/ 

I admire her sense of humor and adventure and probably most of all, the fact that she can look at herself in the mirror and know that she’s pretty.  That got me thinking . . . and me thinking is at the best of time a really shitty idea.

What defines pretty?  I like Angelina Jolie, I think she is pretty, as is Julia Roberts, Julia Stiles and Meg Ryan.  I also think Lindsay Lohan has got a certain something and Scarlet Johansen is a babe.  My fav and prettiest girl is Holly Marie Combs (she is THE BABE).  I don’t look anything like any of them, so why do some men find me attractive?  I wish I could see what they see, sometimes I come close to believing F when he says I’m gorgeous and then, as fate would have it, we walk past a store window and I can see myself, or that ever horrid invention: the mirror.  SCREEEEEEEEEEECH.

I am (ha-ha-ha) plump ( I am not allowed to say fat anymore, maybe just the mere idea jacks up the cholesterol?)  I have annoyingly curly hair, not the ‘nice, sexy’ curls, the OMG, you should be black type that is petrified of moisture.  As soon as a cloud pulls in front of the sun, my hair curls away from the air, closer to my head like a centerpede when scared.  Brown hair, brown eyes, bland face.  sigh, what I wouldn’t give to have 1 pretty day.

So what, to you, makes someone pretty?  Do you ever look at yourself and think: Hey, not bad?

Brainfart or actual enlightenment?

To say I’m tired is an understatement.  This kiddo has nothing on me!!

 

I am a pissy when it comes to staying up late during the week.  Anything after 9 is late.  I have a simple life, 2 jobs (1 day and 2nd but most tiring is parenting) and by the time 9 comes around I am exhausted.

 

Mom leaves for Canada today, to attend an Islamic wedding.  Yep, stepbrother is getting hitched and they are going for the wedding.  Mom hasn’t still made peace with the fact that he is Islamic, although she accepted it and is not trying to convert him.

 

The ‘not knowing what to expect’ is getting to her, so last night we had an amazing debate, starting with her refusing to eat the meat of ‘those people’.  Now you know me, give me a religious battle and I will not budge on what I believe.  It was great fun, but it also got me thinking. . . .

 

I believe there is a greater power, God, Allah, Jehova, The Devine One, Greater Spirit.  Call it what you like, as they say, what’s your poison?  This being created us homo sapiens to all be different, right?  I mean we are different cultures, different colors, different genders and we have free will, that is the same in (most) religions.  Why then the surprise and horror about the fact that different ways of worship is the way of the world.  I wouldn’t force a tourist or visitor from a different background of mine to eat traditional boere-food (or as my Canadian dad says, baby puree), so if I don’t shove that down someone’s throat why would I want to do that with my way of worship?  It is just not logical.

 

So why does it have to be a point of contention how you worship?  Rivalry between different Islamic sects, war between Catholics and Protestants, the ‘I am right and you are wrong’ attitude we all have.  I had an insight last night, I was no different.  Did a lot of Christian bashing, but all the other religions I gave a break.  Henceforth, unless some horrendous dead is committed in the name of (insert your poison here) I am not going to fuss about it.  I don’t want to be judged and shunned because of what I believe and neither should I shun anyone.

 

One question I did ask of Mom last night, just before we had to leave at 11:30 (the baby puked on the couch, I figured he was saying: take me home wench) was “You know I believe there is a divinity out there and just because we worship differently doesn’t mean that either of us needs to be an infidel to the other.  My only real issue with Christianity is: I can’t, for the life of me, imagine a higher being having to threaten people into belief.  The ‘if you do not believe, you will be damned for eternity, mwhahahaha (evil laugh)’ thing is a turn-off.  If we, as humans, didn’t have the inherent need to believe in something, I would understand.  Point is, we do, that is why we have religion in the first place. 

 

Okay, did my bit for the day to promote world peace and love among all.  Can I go now?  I’m sure I hear my bed calling, serious withdrawals for both of us.

Questions?

I read yesterday that WordPress is a blogsite for mostly Afrikaans speaking people.  Being a boertjie myself I don’t have a problem with this.  What I would like to know though is if a blog like mine has a place here (or anywhere for that matter :o~)  My Afrikaans is horrendous, really, especially when I have to write something, programming from English being the ‘business language’, and me reading mostly English books.  Somehow I can’t imagine Stephen King traslated into Afrikaans.  Call me a non-believer.

Speaking of Stephen King, I was honestly of the opinion that he’d lost his touch.  After reading ‘Cell’ and ‘1408′ I was ready and willing to start saving up to buy him a gram or 10 of Coke, really.  Then he wrote Duma Key.  Oh my, what a journey!  It brought back the sense of wonder that I always had with his books, wondering where the hell did THAT come from.  Equal to IT, which along with THE STAND are my two fav’s, Duma Key is a brilliantly written book.  Welcome back Mr King.  Yay, keep it up.

PostSecret

No PMS, but still 100% woman.

My sister is emotional, has been for the last couple of days.  I blame it on PMS, both the estrogen induced kind and the putting up with men’s shit side. 

So, I offered my opinion on this one to my mom and gran after her heartbreaking cry last night.  They say that it’s no excuse for being over-emotional.  I beg to differ.  I grew up with the two of them, I have lived through the glory days of their PMS as well as their menopause (? spelling).  As the saying goes, how soon we forget.

After this little enounter I went home last night and tried to remember what having a period is like.  This is what I recall, pain, irritation, leakage, stains in your underwear, a 10 minute bathroom break every hour, craving for chocolate, murderous thoughts about your best friends new super-sexy-bubble-head-tight-assed girlfriend which believes that she can ‘change’ him. . . eugh.

Yes, I would’ve wanted more kids or maybe not, will probably be a grandmother in about 15 years time, I think I deserve a break? Regardless, I do NOT want my uterus or overies back.  In fact, I wanted to ask the doctor to save them for me after the operation, so that I could take them outside, put ‘em on the grass and beat the KAK out of them with a baseball bat.

Ladies, hang in there and if at all possible, have that THING removed.  After all, when you’re done having kids, or not planning to have any, why suffer 7 days of ……….. (insert word here, mine would be TOTAL SELF LOATHING) for the sake of ???  I don’t get it.  If you don’t want something at the store, you dont buy it.  If you’re done with something you throw it out don’t you?  Why should this be different?

And no, I don’t feel like ‘less of a woman’ now that I don’t have stained underwear, a sore belly, bloated tummy and sensitive nipples.  In fact, I feel so much more like a woman. 

Like with everything else, there is one disadvantage. . . . I don’t have the: “not now, Hon, got my period, dont feel well I’m sore and bloated” excuse anymore.  Fortunatly, I still have sleeping pills and can fake a good ‘coma’.

Have a bitch of a weekend, kick ass, get some ass and most off all, dont get your ass kicked.

I am sooooooooo off duty!!

Don’t miss me too much, I’ve been booked off till Friday.  God bless the medical profession!

Dear Mom,

My postsecret for Mother’s Day.  And Mom, I really do approve of your plans and hope that you will make a success of this, just like you make a success of everything else that you do.

You really are a great mom.  Take it from someone that knows first hand.  Yeah, we don’t always like each other, but we ALWAYS have our love to fall back on.  God speed.

Subtitles

I recieved this piece of wisdom off a newsletter that normally I don’t even read, but the subject of the mail was: “What if we came with subtitles?”  Brilliant idea, only I’d prefer subtitles, a mute button, fast forward, rewind, pause and most importantly overwrite. .   What do you think?  Seen the movie Click?  I could do with a remote like that :o)

“I had to laugh.  I took my two-year old daughter to the doctor the other day.  Finally, after my mother had persuaded her to let the doctor examine her, my daughter turned to my mother and told her a long garbled story involving the doctor, a crocodile and a balloon. Or that’s what it sounded like.  ”She should come with sub-titles,”  my mother sighed. “It would make talking to her SO much easier!”  I had to agree.  I then got to thinking - wouldn’t it be fantastic if all people came with sub-titles?  Just picture it - you arrive home from work and your wife is absolutely seething. When you ask her what is wrong, she just says: “Nothing!”  And then a sub-title pops up: “I am angry because you said you would be home at six and it is now seven-thirty. The roast leg of lamb has shriveled up in the oven and died.  And I feel taken-for-granted and unloved.” You would then know exactly what to say, as opposed to turning on the TV and writing her bad mood off as PMS. It is SUCH a good idea!”

On Logic

Now if we could all solve our problems this easily wouldn’t life be grand?