Tuesday, 1 December 2015

Temporary space

I'm not dead, don't worry :) Find me at my temporary haven on Facebook: Crazy in Siusega.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

People watching fix

I love people watching. It may possibly be one of my favorite pastimes, right up there next to 48 hour sleeps and self pity rants.

Living temporarily here in Auckland, I frequent the mall a lot. And while my mother (who has accompanied me on my medical 'pilgrimage', because every 33 year old adult needs their mother to rub their back while retching copiously in the hospital bathroom) spends hours inside SpecSavers trying to get a refund on a pair of eyeglasses she bought 5 years ago from them and is now faulty (because of her cataracts and not the eyeglasses), I sit outside on one of those couches, and people watch. And laugh inwardly at how people dress and look. You know, because I'm so hot and perfect.

Some interesting observations:
- Everyone is wearing some sort of closed shoes. Because it's winter obviously. I am the only dumbass wearing seevae kosokoso, because I'm staunch like that (and can't find closed shoes in my size 13)
- There are so many couples below 25 with babies. Some with more than one baby. Good Lord. Babies raising babies.
- Clearly the parents don't work, since they're walking around the mall during the day. And shopping even. And not just at the below 12 items counter, we're talking major shopping. For clothes and random shet like that. Life on the benefit is good.
- If you're looking to bump into someone you know, or worse, a relative, Manukau mall is the place to hang yo. I met two cousins, a neighbor from Samoa, and some people I know (from Club X).
- The level of obesity here is alarming. And all islanders, may I add. Probably all Samoan. No love for their bodies, and women more than men. Maccas needs to stop those $1 coke floats and Pizza Hutt and their $5 pizzas. Shucks. It's scary. Even scarier is watching them not give a damn about their weight and focus the attention on their faces and hair - heavy mascara, pouty lips, hair permanently damaged straightened. Girl, you fat. No amount of foundation will hide that.

Thank you for tuning in to people watching from South Auckland. Now excuse me while I put on my beanie and go to catch the 471 to Manurewa. Yeh bro.

Monday, 3 August 2015

Death sucks balls

My next post was supposed to be about death. But we've done the whole death topic to...well, to death, no pun intended.

So all I want to say about that is make every moment count. You could die today, tomorrow, any freaking time. Express your love, gratitude and say everything you need to say all the time every time.

My heart goes out to my friend who lost her husband last week. Life sucks inexplicably when you lose your best friend, your rock, the father of your young children. I wouldn't know (obviously). I just know that their hearts are broken. And nobody deserves that, least of all those poor girls who don't understand where their daddy has gone.

Saturday, 1 August 2015

Farkbook, yes I'm still ranting

Since I became a hermit, I've retreated further away from Fugbook.

I mean, it's bloody Days of Our Lives on there. I can't deal half the time. When you're miserable, the last thing you want to know is how perfect someone else's life is, how good looking you are in your filtered selfie, how smart their kids are, overachieving little shets, how avidly they go to zumba, and just got promoted.

Here's how it goes. You put up a post and say "Feeling great, today is the best day ever!" which just begs people to ask, "What happened?" and you pretend to ignore the questions until someone who does know what happened says "Congrats on your promotion sis!" and then everyone jumps in, while you're preening away. Felicitations. You got people to congratulate you without directly telling the world what happened.

Or "Attending the 12th UN Negotiations on Climate Change blah blah blah in New York, and then on my way to Bangkok enroute back to Samoa". Shucks. So your job has the best perks. Fuck you too.

Or "My son came home today with a certificate for Best All Round Student this week". So your son was good this week. My son was good all year, but you don't see me posting up about it.

Clearly I have some issues. The solution is, log out. Nobody is going to change because I'm jealous. If anything, half the reason why these posts exist is to make us jealous. And like a moth to the flame...

When life gets hard, suck it up

While contemplating my navel sometime last week in my spare time, like, all day, I was thinking. When life gets hard, you have three things. God, family and friends.

Well let me break it down.

God and I, we have a love hate relationship. We go through phases of being really tight, to not speaking to each other. Mostly him not speaking to me. Or answering my fervent prayers to win the lotto and find the cure for cancer. Recently it's been extra up and down. I go through days shaking my fist at the sky and asking "why me Lord?!" and questioning my existence and how come they are happy and have all the material things I aspire to have and, well, never get. Like, ever. Tough luck, God says, remember the children in Somalia.

My family I think are sick of me. Sick of me being useless and semi-functional as a human being for months. The children are growing up despite their mum being a shit. The parents grow more feeble and luckily have other children to look after them because their daughter is too self-involved right now. But even so, they still ask if I'm ok, do I need anything, food, extra painkillers, a gift voucher to the local spa and for gods sakes get your face waxed.

Friends, I have never been in shortage of. At some point I became too sick to be much of a social creature. That right there eliminated half of my friends. Ha! Take away drinks in a club and pwfffttttt, I become but a distant memory of someone they used to share vodka tonics with. I don't care much about that, which is of course why I am harping on about it. What I do care about is one or two friends I used to be close to once upon a time, who know I am sick, and dont bother to reach out. I like to think that if a close friend of mine was in a bit of strife, I would be around, you know. Dunno, maybe I'm just being dramatic. Or my measure of a friendship is different from theirs. Nevertheless, this illness has taught me to be grateful for what I have. And I still have a wonderful bunch of friends who care immensely, to the point of smothering, and I love them to bits. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.

That ends Throwback Last Week Tuesday Navel Contemplation. Tune in for more self pity posts.

Still here, sorta

I haven't blogged in months. Duh. I've been out there, like, you know, existing.

So to catch up - I've been in a lot of shit. As in wading through shit trying to catch a break. I went to NZ in May for medical treatment. Returned home, semi-cured, depressed as hell, and left my job. Spent my days half alive, hating on everybody, offspring included, and most of all, broke.

Few months later, am back in NZ for more medical treatment. This is becoming a real drag, and really affecting my ability to focus on candy crush soda. And it's cold. Which means my body is hidden under countless layers of jumpers, sweaters and scarves. Scarfs? Meanwhile I am making sure I eat everything I see, and telling myself I haven't gained a pound. Until I go to take a shower and have to take off the layers and discover, holy shit, there's an extra 20kgs on my ass. Excuse me while I inhale another burger cos it's 1/2 price today cos Burger King is sponsoring Joseph Parker's fight.

So yeah, that's me yo. Back to blog for a limited time only.

Monday, 23 March 2015

Lotto lunika!

So yesterday I got an FB message from an in-law living in the US of A.

Her - "Sis I have such good news!"
Me - "Omg you got your green card?" (after overstaying for 15 years)
Her - "No sis, I won $100,000 in the world international lottery"
Me - "A'a."
Me - "Suga e moi ea ga mea?"
Her - "E moni lava. I thought it was a scam until I got the money delivered to my front door. And sis, I saw the list and your name was on it too!"
Me (disbelieving but already planning what to do with the money) - "Seriously?! Tell me the details!"
Her - "Ia sei uma le pisi send atu."

And that was the end of the conversation, no more respondez from my in-law.

Even after googling world international lottery, and seeing it was a scam, I thought MAYBE it's true, because she was speaking to me in Samoan, and sounded like my sister in law. And why would the bitch lie to me? (ok let me count the reasons lol)

So I went to bed dreaming of cake shops, and trips to Italy.

And woke up this morning to a post from my sister in law.

"I've been hacked! Please beware, the hacker even speaks Samoan."


Tuesday, 17 March 2015

My father's relatives

I live with my parents. My father is a chief in his village(s). He ran for the elections once or twice. As a result, people from his village (and the neighbouring 10 villages) know (of) him and where he lives, and think that because he spent money during his campaign (and sold Tino's 1/4 acre inheritance to fund it) and that he's a doctor and lives in a big (dilapidated) house, he has money.

What they don't know is that my father is now 84 years old. He hasn't worked for years. He gets a weekly stipend from his children and wife to buy his lotto, fill up his car, get his hair cut, and buy some more lotto. He has no income of his own. He asks his grandkids for money. They are all below 9 years old. So when random bottom of the food chain shits rock up the house asking for money for this faalavelave and that, don't expect me to come running with a cup of tea and a biscuit, or open my purse.

What they also don't know is my father's memory is failing. So when they say they are the children of Leilua Galo's cousin's neighbour's uncle, my father nods and smiles and says "Ioe ouke iloa lou kama" when in actual fact, he has no idea and can't even recall what he had for breakfast two hours earlier.

What they most certainly don't know is that I have a good memory if my father does not. And I remember clearly that these were the same assholes who camped at our house on the eve of the election, and then voted for the opposition and were nowhere to be seen once the votes were in. So when they come to ask for money, and my father turns to me, and I say (fuck off) "sorry leai se tupe".

Even his own close blood relatives come knocking to ask for money. These are the ones who know he's old, know he has no money, know he's nearing dementia, and still have the nerve to ask.

But once in a while, my father will get a visit from a nephew or a niece from overseas or from down the road. A visit purely for the sake of seeing their only living uncle, to see how he is doing, perhaps push a $100 tala note in his hand, bring him faiai aku and a piece of taro, and retell old memories to make him laugh. These are the relatives I will gladly bring out the kettle and make tea for. These are the relatives who restore my faith in humanity. I wish for more relatives like this. And I make a mental note to visit my older relatives and do the same.

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Live life, just because dude

I've never thought much about dying, except that if it happens it'll probably be from drowning because I can't swim. Shuddup. Now, on thinking more soberly about it, I would like to die peacefully in my sleep. With my 3 teddy bears around me. And a glass of vodka within arms reach. And a priest. And all my exes living in Texas. Ha! 

So, whilst soul searching (and bawling my eyes out) this past weekend, I came across a few life lessons I need to heed before kicking the bucket:

Tell your kids you love them. Every damn day. Sure, yell at them, beat them up, but don't let the sun go down without drying their tears and telling them they're the best thing that ever happened in your life. Seconded only by a double whopper. 

Stop talking shit. Or limit the shit you talk about. Story of my life. I wonder if they talk shit in heaven. "Eh Pika, ga e faalogo i se kala ia Sakaio ma Malia, oka se paumumuku o lea keige." "Ae sei e vaai la ile ofu a Naomi ga fai ile loku agagafi, ua magaku ifo a ua akoa." Where does it get us? Nowhere. They're still richer, more successful, have prettier babies, and happily married, and don't give a rat's ass what you're talking about. 

Work hard. Reap the rewards. Feel good about yourself afterwards. 

Feed your kids the right food. I thought I could give the girls anything and they would grow up with unblemished complexions and healthy hair and pretty white teeth. Well guess what, you actually have to work at it. Fruits and veggies actually work! And saves you a load of visits to the doctor cos your kids have shitty immune systems from all 10 boiled eggs they eat every day. 

Get your hair did more often, girrrrl. You never know when you might be walking in town and meet the man of your dreams. And his beautiful wife. And walk away knowing you look good. While you're dying a little inside. But you looked good ;) 

Take the kids out. Maccas drive through does NOT count. And don't whinge and say "ohhh if only Samoa was like NZ, I could take the kids to the park, or to mini golf, or biking up the hill, there is like nothang to do over here!". Girl there is a mini golf place across the road from your house. And a beach 30 mins away. And a seawall in town for them to ride their bikes. And for gods sake teach them how to ride their bikes. 

Be a real friend. That means calling your friends up every now and then and ask how they're doing. They could be going through some real shit and have nobody to talk to, and can't reach out because they're too proud. Or whatever. Ok stop talking about yourself. Go out for lunch with your friends. A simple text to say hi. Like their post on FB to know you're still there. And if you don't like what they did last summer, tell them, instead of talking shit about it to other people, or worse, judging them. Wait no talking shit is worse. Whatever it is, stand by your friends man. 

In a nutshell, grab life by the balls and don't take anything for granted. You never know when it could all be taken away from you. 

Ehhh ka fefe i filosofia a Velovaary. 

Monday, 2 March 2015

Everything is awesome

The kids sing this constantly. "Everything is awesome! Everything is cool when you're part of the team!" I wish I had that kinda positivity in my life.

Well - on the bright side of awesomeness -

I am still alive. And breathing.

My girls are awesome. They keep me grounded. They remind me to buy their stationery, comb their hair, feed them. They really deserve a better mum, but their standards are pretty low and they think I am like the coolest mum everrrrr.

Oreo Cheesecake Chocolate Cake. Never try any other cake after you've had this one. It's amazeballs.

I can't think of anything else that's awesome right now so we'll move right along to the dark side of shitty -

I've been diagnosed with something serious. And noooo it's not HIV. But it's life threatening. No need for details. I've had a lot of seeing my "life flashing before my eyes" moments since. Funny how all of a sudden, priorities change and you want to do either one of two things - grab life by the balls, or curl up in a corner and cry for days. I think I'm in the middle somewhere. Have an operation scheduled this month in NZ, so fingers and legs crossed I will still be around to make fun of you behind your back in the near future :)

The kids' grandmother is not speaking to me. Over something trivial like I answered back to her when she yelled at me, oh NO I DIDN'T! Yes I did. So things are pretty bleak in the Cold War at present.

Yeeeah. That's about it. I really need to start writing about something more important than myself. Next time mate next time.