Thursday, 4 December 2014

We need you Mum!

Dear Mum,

Please hurry home. The following has happened since you left:

The SKY bill hasn't been paid. For someone so very organised, I am aghast that you forgot to pay for it. If you could please just wire the money through, I'll have it paid immediately.

We ran out of canned food. You must've taken the key to the pantry by mistake. I've tried unsuccessfully to open the door with a knife. We actually have had to BUY elegi, pisupo, saimin and toilet paper.

The grass is growing at a frighteningly fast rate. Well it has been raining heavily here. I don't know the number for the lawn mowing guy. Can you call him for me?

The kids miss you. At first they were happy to watch tv from morning till night. But now they're bored. They need someone to read to them. They don't like my reading, they say it sucks. "But grandma makes the cow sound BETTER than you." Oookayyy moving on before I backhand you.

These people from Dad's family came to see him. I told them you're both away, but they were already in the house before I could finish my sentence. They sat there expecting food, so I gave them some ripe bananas and unsweetened tea. That's all we had at the house at the time as I only got paid the following week. They left soon after sniffing the bananas and looking disgustedly at me.

And lastly, we miss you and your company. Honest!

Monday, 24 November 2014

Raining in Samunda

It's raining like a bitch over here. In Samoa it means a few things:

1. High number of babies that will be born 9 months from today. Possibly named Timuga, Matagi and Lolovaia.

2. A rise in sales for warm Vailima.

3. Lots of hot bread and koko samoa will be consumed.

4. Wet clothes will be ironed for work tomorrow.

5. The kids will be kept from school because a drop of rain could mean flu, and we don't have time and money for a doctor's visit and panadol.

6. If you do have money for the doc, your child is probably out in the puddle getting ringworm and all other sorts of shit.

7. Value Village second hand jumpers and cardigans are selling like hotcakes. And worn before being washed.

8. You wish you fixed your car window, and now have a shower curtain covering it from the rain.

9. You wish you had an air con car because its bloody hot in here, and you're tired of wiping the mist off the windshield with your hand.

10. You wish you brought a freakin umbrella because now you're stuck in your office writing this post and wondering how to run from the office to the bus stop 1 mile away.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Shit day #359652

Having a S.H.I.T day. Today trumps all shit days this year.

I seriously think there are jealous shets out there to get me. Is it because I'm pretty? I'm smart? I'm sleeping with your husband? Or your wife?? WHAT THE FARK IS IT. Well it's none of those, obviously lol kae.

Some stupid cow sent an email to my boss complaining about my unprofessionalism. Oh no you didn't. Initial reaction. To get in my car, drive over there and nail the bitch to a lamp post. But of course, I am not a violent person. Never hurt a fly. So I smiled, and explained to my boss what reeeeally happened, and not the over exaggerated twist she put on it. Of course my boss believes me. I think. Shet, does she? Maybe I walked out of her office and she moved my name up in her little black book. Or called someone to say "You're right I shouldn't have hired this dumbo."

Ok rant over. So inconsequential, compared to, say, the freakin crocodile cake the kid wants for her birthday tomorrow. And the box of chilly chocs she wants to go with it, for her class. Plus the barbie present. Tallying all this up, and...kefs.

That is all.

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Rugby woes...can you blame them

So Manu Samoa 15s players threatening to go on strike and boycott their next game with England. They wrote a letter to IRB expressing their concerns over Samoa Rugby Union administration...or should I say "a series of misgivings" as one paper put it. Nothing in detail, but you can bet your Aunt Fanny it's to do with not enough pay, shortage of proper playing gear, receiving gear 10 minutes before games etc.

Never ending story this one. SRU is infamous for its atrocious governance. The place is a veritable sin city. They've been through a long line of administrators who've abused resources, drank on the job, and misappropriated funds. They say the latest CEO should not be blamed, he's a LAWYER. He actually has a DEGREE. So farking what. Does he have integrity? Does he have the balls to stand up for the players grievances? Or is he just another snivelling coward with his head so far up the SRU President's arse that he can't make a decision for himself? It's not just him though, he's really a scapegoat too for a lot of the more pressing problems within the SRU. Apparently the players insist that other big wigs in SRU need to go. That they're all corrupt. Yeah tell us something new.

So, a whole lot of expression of opinion on FB about this one. Many saying the players are stupid for making a stand, this is not the channel to air their grievances. Well pardon me, where else will they go? To the PM? Ha, that's a joke. He'll call them worse names than stupid and send them back to the plantation. Or wait, no, the players aren't local. That's for another post. Some say don't let your personal agendas become more important than the country you swore loyalty to. Agree, it makes Samoa as a whole look bad. But again, when will changes ever be made if they don't take it to an international level?

The fact of the matter is, the boys don't get paid near enough. $100 a week. That's TALA. A Yazaki worker earns more, and these boys are in training every single day of the week. They are supposed to support their families with a hundred bucks? Come on. 15s players in international games get more, but most of them play in clubs overseas and get triple, quadruple that. And they give it up to play for their country. Well I say their country needs to give a bit more instead of coaching from the comforts of their faleo'o and rubbishing the team when they don't win. They don't get their full gear. Yet there are gear where is the gear going? You tell me. God I could go on.

Bah. SRU deserves to be blasted in the media for being what they really are. A corrupt organisation full of old men with pipe dreams and a liking for pocketing sponsors money.

Play on boys.

10 things I wish I had known

Was just reading a random article on Huffpost Women, on the 10 things I wish I had known when I was 21.

1. Don't compare yourself to others. Really? I thrive (and break down) on comparing myself to others. All that rubbish on "don't measure yourself on other people's success" don't sit well with me. If she's (and I'm still talking about my woman crush here) got an MBA, I'm gonna make damn sure I get me a PhD. One of those ones you buy online. If she has model children with perfect teeth and smooth white skin, well I'm gonna find me a donor who can give me Aryan looking malnourished kids. Hey, I know someone who actually did that. Ok sidetracked. I can't help but compare myself to others. It's the driving force in my life. Bleh.

2. Don't feel like you have to have it all figured out. I never had this problem. I never figured out anything, and still haven't. And that is why I still live with my parents and wait for mum to cook me dinner. And pay the bills. And feed my kids.

3. Listen to your mom when she tells you that having more than five drinks a night is not healthy or normal. OMG she NEVER told me that! That makes me a little angry. I could have stopped the shameful nights of dancing on the table and sleeping with random men a long time ago if mum had told me. Not.

4. You can relax a little; you don't need to do it all. The thing is, I do need to do it all. Cos if I don't, who will? The never-ending saga of a single mom.

5. You're smart. Yes I is.

6. Don't straighten your hair or wear fake tanner every day. Not applicable to me. Obviously. Fai aku le meauli ae.

7. Enjoy young love because it's so sweet. But don't put everything on that relationship. Too late. I did. And see where that ended up. And then did it again. And same thing. I think I wanna be a lesbian.

8. Practice saying no. No. There, enough practice. If I had said no from the time I was 21 to now at 26, I would probably not had 2 of my 3 children, still working at BAT, and still a size 2. Aue'e.

9. Don't take your parents and family issues onto yourself. Tell that to a Samoan and good luck. Parents and family issues go hand in hand with breathing. You could try to separate them, but be sure you have a one way ticket somewhere faaaar.

10. Stop obsessing over guys. Claim your own self worth. I never obsessed over guys. They obsess over me. Uh huh. Pugi.

Thursday, 6 November 2014

Fitness freakery

Samoa has been hit by ebola. Of sorts. Ebola of the fitness freaks. It's a serious disease which has struck almost every household, except mine, thank God we are all immune.

There's boot camp, circuit, tabata, zumba, mt vaea, palisi, paddling and all these other ebola strains going on. There's a shortage of ankle socks and knee length ladies tights as a result. And water. The blasted seawall is filled with these sick people walking, running, star jumping. I can't even have a leisurely drive and see the boats out yonder because of this bloody eyesore. Gym selfies. Please for the love of %#@*! stop.

Sao ai le makou housegirl "ia ua fafao fafao kou guku kou omai koe kolegi." Juhuuu!

Ia ga. Short story from a jealous fatso.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

Eh ia I'm here

Didn't go anywhere. Just got caught up in umm life I suppose.

In short:

I turned 33 last month. In the words of Eduardo from that Filipino series which every Samoan and his dog fervently follows every Wednesday on TV1 at 9pm, "Oh My Gutt!" And summed up by this random song we all used to hear on 2AP back in 1983, "Ua sau le pogisa, aue ta lelava..." But on a positive note, I am still alive. Not many binge drinkers and chain smokers can say that. Ai a ua leva ga sosolo le cancer kokogu o le kigo a la e "I'm still alive!" Faapea le cancer "not for long, bitch." Ha!

The kids birthdays are coming up. Alofa mai seisi laka bank account please.

Two nights in a row, this has happened. Night 1- I felt something in my hair like a spider. I brushed it off, got up from the bed and saw a gigantic centipede. Fark. Night 2 - felt something crawling on my leg. Another gifarkingnormous centipede. Hmmm. It's a sign. A sign that great blessings are coming my way. Or...a sign that I need to stop sleeping on the farking floor. And buy more mortein. And on both occasions (Gigi and I sleep on the mattress on the floor), I jumped up and ran. And then came back cos I remember I had a sleeping child on the mattress. Yes, when in life-threatening situation, abandon all children and run.

I'm taking these pills for something. Not important what it is. The important thing is the bloody side effects. I'm depressed all the time. Suicidal sometimes. Crying constantly. Ok. Wait. That's the normal me. Seriously though. What the crap is happening to me. But it's ok - its making me blog lol that's gotta be something.

Have you ever been jealous of someone, like insanely jealous, and for no real valid reason? Yeah I'm going through that too. So there's this girl. She's more successful, killer job, perfect family husband and kids out of Women's Day, nice cars (yes that is very important to me), talks like she was born in a text book. Like literally talks with words I can't even pronounce, let alone spell correctly to type into google. And she's an academic. I see her every day and think goddammit I wanna be her. I want her smarts, her job, her money and her photogenic pretty kids. The husband, I can find a better one. But everything else, my gosh. I follow her on FB. And Instagram. And soon I'll be tailing her car in real life. I'm fast approaching stalker level. Help. If she was pretty, it could be understandable. But she's not, I'm like waaay prettier.

I don't know where that was going. I freak myself out just reading that.

I better take another antidepressant.

Monday, 22 September 2014

These moments she does not forget

Every year on that day she relives the hell. The torment knots inside her womb as she remembers. They say time heals all wounds. Bullshit. Whoever said that never went through pain the way she did. The way others like her did. Waking up empty and numb like a girl on crack. Time heals nothing. Mends nothing. The memories remain vivid etched in her mind, that no amount of therapy, alcohol, love and affection can erase.

When she became pregnant for the 4th time, all she could think was "shit, not another mouth to feed." She went through her pregnancy dragging her feet, thinking only of the hardships ahead. The fact that her youngest child couldn't even walk yet. Her marriage falling apart. What people would think. Later on, she would hate herself for these thoughts. Mind fuck herself over and over for not welcoming this beautiful gift. After 3 children, she became complacent. Doctor's check ups were few. She was sick more often, but neglected to look after herself and not that there was anyone else to look after her anyway. She choked it down. There was no time to be sick. That was for the weak.

Her doctor said she was fine, the picture of perfect health and an expecting mother. The child was healthy, heart beat was normal and she could look forward to a beautiful bouncy baby girl in a few months time. Slowly she attuned herself to expect that beautiful girl. She talked to her every day. Told her in no uncertain terms what she expected from her when she turned 18. What she knew she would look like. How she would bond her broken family together. How she would remind her mother to live.

She felt her child kick almost endlessly. Every waking moment the child reminded her that she was there with her. "See you soon Mummy," she said with every bump and kick. She couldn't for the life of her remember when she last felt her remind her that she was there. That she was coming. She was so busy with work, the other three children, that she forgot.

These moments she would relive. Feeling the pains of childbirth, her excitement soon punctured by the doctor telling her that there was no heartbeat. That the child was dead. When had she last felt her kick? When dammit when? These moments she would relive. That she would still have to deliver her baby. Her dead baby. These moments. Pushing her child out knowing the pain was for nothing, These moments when she felt God forsake her. When she held her lifeless perfect child in her arms, against her chest, still warm from her body, yet cold and soulless. Oh these moments she wanted to die. She wanted to stop the pain gushing through her like a burst pipe. Gripping her throat, choking, choking ever so slowly.

Three years later. She relives hell again. And prays that her Angel is in God's arms. That her Angel does not forget her. That her Angel forgives her for being complacent. For not accepting her in the beginning. For all the mistakes she made which could have possibly been the reason for her death.

She would never forget this day. But she prayed that perhaps one day, it wouldn't hurt so damn much.

Happy Birthday my sweet love. 

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

What to write, what to write...

Tired of writing about my sorry self. I've decided to write a story of sorts. Let's see where that ends up. I haven't even decided what it's about, because I can't think past myself and writing an autobiography. Eh fefe e. Ia sei mafaufau aku.

Thursday rants and blahs

Eh been a shet week so the writing is all over the place.

Just heard last night that a friend lost her baby at birth. Don't know the details, possibly stillborn. Join the club sister, I feel your pain. Nobody should have to deal with that shet. Nobody. I hope she finds solace in her family and her two beautiful daughters and in God's love. That's all we can hope for. But wait that's not all. A mutual friend decides to call me this morning and give me all the gory details and worse, send me pics of the baby. Seriously!! Se kefs ia.

Everyone's a bloody baker these days. I'm sure that's what real bakers said when they saw me trying my hand at baking ha. Now I know what it feels like pe a omai le au fia baker ma post solo aka o lakou keke no nice. Juhu ia ok I know what Caroline's Kitchen thinks now "ugh amateurs". Ioe a la ua oki ai le business. Speaking of which, I think I've lost my mojo. I've been cancelling orders left and right. So two days ago, a regular ordered 3 cakes for Friday (thats *check calculator* $300!). I said sorry I'm going to Savaii this weekend and can't make it. And then I thought WTF Gikia e le keikei maua sau $300 aye. So I emailed her back and said hey ua cancel lau alu i Savaii so can still make it. THEN I woke up this morning and thought oh shit the order is for tomorrow and I am currently in Depression mode (talk about that later) so I emailed her again and said sorry sis ua koe on e trip i Savaii. Shet what a fail. Meanwhile I am looking through pics of a fellow baker Sweet Tooth and thinking of ordering a cheesecake this weekend. Because you know how I need it. AND these amateur bakers need quality assurance. Fink about it.

While you're finking about it, next week Angel turns 3. Time flies but nobody forgets. So I'm finally getting off my arse to buy a headstone for the poor girl ai o faapea le keige "e le galo le alu e igu ae galo a'u". So I went to Tuigamala headstones where they have a Xmas special going on - ok so why would you have a Xmas special in Sept and say "Book your coffin and headstone early before the Xmas rush." Before the Xmas death rush? A'e. Anyway e sau le kau a le igikia e $1,000. Ok thanks, will come back...never. So I went on lau whatsapp to ask the oracles if they know where I can find a reasonably priced (just say it, cheap) headstone. I said my budget was $500. One shet said "Well in that case go to Apia Concrete Products." Aikae. Still at square 1 and the anniversary is in a couple of days. Well planned, mother of the century.

But wait. Gary Carruthers just saved my life, and has a brass plaque for me which looks even better than a proper headstone. Yay. Mother of the century award still intact.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Lunchtime blues

Eh someone give me a life changing experience. It's lunchtime and I picked up the child, took her home and came back to work. All in the span of 15 minutes. What, no ride around the town clock? No, back at work and now starving. Tempted to text "anybody wanna lunch?" in our Lau whatsapp room, but, well, don't want to have someone say "yeah sure lets go" and it's someone I don't reeeeally want to break bread with, you know? So here I am. Starving and unable to work until I get nourishment.

Ahh but wait! My boyfriend just called. He's in a work meeting and they have left over food! And when I say leftover food, I mean lobsters, steak, bbq chicken etc. And when I say boyfriend, I mean my gay boy friend. And when I say I'm coming right over, I mean I'm already in my car.

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Pageant bleh

Can we just get over the new Miss Samoa and move on with our lives and stop farking posting every 5 minutes about it? I swear on pageant night every single meaola aikae on my friends list was updating every second. Every effing second. Thank you bluesky for live streaming it, I now had my relatives in Reykjavik putting in their two cents. So Miss Samoa NZ won. Yay. Hooray for NZ and the treaty of friendship and white Samoans who can't speak Samoan. Koe update mai loa se purido ga vaavaai laia iai. And if your sister didn't place, we know you love her. We know. We understand you have to tell her every 5 minutes cos she must be cut up that she hand painted her turtle costume for Just text her for fark's sake. Call her. Viber. Whatever. Soooo proud of you #teamfuki.

And this is why I prefer to stay anonymous. Lelava vili mai se uffer fia misa mai. Ain't nobody got time, o lea e kau vaai poo lava se entitle ile NPF.

And for the record, which doesn't matter cos nobody reads my blog, I thought Dwayne looked pretty hot as MC. So all the suspender bashing I did on FB, Dwayne I'm sorry. Blame the belvedere. And Ora's shoulders which blocked us from really seeing the tv screen properly. And Riri's colouring that darkened the room. Ok bye.

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Sick and tired

I think I'm sick. Had diarrhoea for the past 3 days. I blame the fish and chips I bought from the nearby store. I thought "mmm what nice fish melts in my mouth" not realising it was bad. Kae. Like I know anything about fish. So all Saturday evening, Sunday and yesterday, I've been wasting toilet paper and carrying extra baby wipes and clorox and all sorts of antiseptic in case I shit myself whilst trying to get a selfie with Ban Ki Moon.

The upside. I'm losing weight baby. Yayer. Who needs zumba, have some salmonella, works every time all the time lol.

But wait that's not all. Diarrhoea has stopped but still getting feverish spells. Ehhh aisea ea. I have things to do (candy crush) and places to go (the bedroom. alone. boohoo).

Or maybe I'm just sick of SIDS. And selfies. And different elei puletas every day. Ok jealous post over. Next post will be on the real issues SIDS is tackling like global aid, improving food security (wtf) and ocean acidification. And shet like that. Lol.

Saturday, 30 August 2014

SIDS galore

I'm feeling sorry for myself cos I'm not directly involved in SIDS. I'm making money from it, sure, but I'm not like losing sleep and posting up that I just got accredited and attending today's plenary session, took a selfie with the nz police, checked Barbara Dreaver through customs blah blah blah.

And I'm only feeling sorry for myself cos my friends are all involved and I'm bored. Nobody to go on a maccas run with. Nobody to go and bug and force to watch The Other Woman with at ungodly hours of the morning. They're all doing airport runs, manning information booths, running the whole goddamn show, supplying the flowers for the venue, taking their guests from overseas sightseeing, pub crawls during teuila festival.

Pity party aside, Samoa is absolutely amazingly beautiful right now. Every road a UN delegate or Ban Ki Moon is likely to drive on, has been transformed, decorated with flags made of ieie, signs saying "Enjoy your staying in Samoa" and "We love you SIDS". The roads have been tar sealed again. And all the roads Helen Clarke will not be travelling on, good luck and may your potholes stay forever. Flags of all UN nations including coca cola lining the streets. Lights on and trees decorated cos hello it's xmas. Hashtags filling your newsfeed #soproudofmysamoa #sids2014 #haven'tsleptin48hours. Cops every bloody where you look. And my god some hot ones too. Where have they been hiding all my life? Ok sidetracked. Apia. Beautiful. Let's hope everyone keeps their toilets clean after everyone goes back and not just for this two week period.

And on that note, I'm at work on a effing Sunday #SIDSmoko

Monday, 25 August 2014

Lazy Post koe argen

A few more days before SIDS starts. Everyone is in a rush to get things ready. Airport pick ups. Road works. Logistics. Landscaping. Decorating. Planning planning planning. 

And where am I? 

Here. Wondering what to have for lunch today. The tuna salad or the toastie? What a bloody dilemma. 

Other less interesting happenings:

Have been spending more time with the kids instead of my imaginary lover (that's right, you were thinking it kae). I've discovered how advanced Elita's reading and spelling is. She's reading like a speedster and she's only in Year 1. I'm like "No you can't read this, it's too hard." Well pardon me if she read the entire 30 page book by herself. Jeezus, where have I been? Thanks Grandma. The other two however are lazy baboons, and only when wielding the salu lima do they get off their arses and do some work. G says "Ok okaaay I'll do my writing just don't fasi me ok? Just don't." Tino is reading "Are you there God, it's me Margaret" by Judy Blume. Was one of my all time faves 20 years ago when I was 6 lol. She's loving it too. In the world of mathematics which is very important to me because (1) they are all going to be doctors (2) my maths always sucked and I still use my fingers to add stuff (3) kids in Arts were always considered the less intelligent ones and coming from an Arts background I completely agree. SO. Mental note to work on their Maths...or hire a tutor or we'll all be counting on our fingers for the rest of our lives. 

I've been working on my 5 year plan. Yeah. Still working on it. My motto is "One day at a time, sweet Jesus." I do however want to complete the following over the next 5 years (carried forward from the last 5 years shuddup): take the girls on a long overdue holiday even if it's to Savaii, as long as it's more than 5 metres from the house, start (and finish) my law degree just to have LLB at the end of my name, have two more kids hopefully a boy in there somewhere and these 3 are old enough to babysit thank you, write the bloody book I've been toying with in my head even if it kills me (Lani and Sieni inspire me and incite envy in me - and jealousy is a great motivation ha), build my house - stuff the "dream house", just any bloody house with 4 walls will do me just fine, just please i need a safe haven, expand the baking business - there's certainly money in it and eventually I want to build a complex in front of the house at Siusega with a bakery, juice bar and noodle box. Just ideas and with my lottery winnings I will make it happen yessir. 

Ok still on the kids, I have decided to move them next year to St Marys. This whole idea of private schools providing the best education is rubbish. I see nothing come out of Tino's current schooling. Elita's however is pretty amazing. I thought perhaps move all 3 to Peace Chapel next year, but money talks and sugar daddies are hard to come by and the real daddy remains useless. 

Enough talk for today, it's only Tuesday laa leai gi kala e faia kaeao. 

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Smart little shet

So G broke a window today. She was rocking the chair against the window, and of course, the window couldn't withstand the 40kg weight and cracked.

Conversation went like this:

Me: "You broke the window!! See this is what happens when you play too much." (bad logic save it for another day)

G: "Sowwy Mummy"

Me: "That's not good enough. Are you going to pay for the new window? Do you have money to pay for it? Huh?" (Really? She's only 4 years old for crying out loud)

G: "Yes I have money."

Wui wui - pe talk back mai le aunty lea.

Me: "Oh really? Well show it to me then."

G walks away.

Comes waddling back holding her piggy bank. Full of foreign coins.

Ah shet. Shuddup loa ma Mummy.

I mean, just look at that kuluku smile. How can I resist? Lol.

A typical day as a princess

Wake up and wipe the saliva off my face. Why can't I wake up looking like I just came out of a salon? #uglygirlproblems lol. Then kick the 3 inert bodies next to me to get up and get ready for school. Then close my eyes again while they shower, dress and feed themselves and sit in the car to wait while princess gets ready.

Then I get to work and start on the difficult task of facebookery. So I've finished "liking" every status on my FB newsfeed, even though 3/4 of them weren't even semi interesting. Seen all the newborn babies. Deciphered your status and realised you actually haven't been together with your girlfriend for months. Sat riveted while you told me how so very busy you are with SIDS and will it ever end? You must be the hardest working person in SIDS! And then those cryptic messages you are posting on your friend's wall. Why? Why can't you fucking private message them? Save me the hassle of trying to guess what you meant, and were you talking about ME? Because the only reason why you posted it up in public was for us to read. Oh and one more thing. We know it's your first child. But for god's sake we don't need to see a pic every time she opens her eyes, lifts a finger, smiles, poops. Save it for flickr. Just put up the really cute ones, where you're guaranteed to get 100 likes and a heap of "omg she's soooo adorable!" comments. And if your child is ugly, well, ok shut up Nydia.

Following this extremely fruitful exercise, the rest of the day is just a blur, and whatsapp and then omg it's 5pm already?! Then I make my way home to sit around in a vegetable state and wonder whose children these are running circles around me and whining that they're hungry. Didn't your parents think to make you any food?? Well since they haven't, kakala aku se apa elegi e ai, cos ain't nobody got time for a gourmet meal after the long day I've had working my ass off.

Ia fa soifua ua lava lea pepelo mo lenei aso tofi.

Thursday, 14 August 2014

Lazy Post #3

I have a million posts in draft. Ok maybe just 3.

In summary of those posts:

Went to Latin's dad's funeral in Saigon (Sagone) last week. Mad rush with 4 other mad people to get on the 8am boat, have a great breakfast at Savaiian hotel (thank you for the extra eggs), and speed to Saigon to make the lotu at 12. Magaia le sauniga lotu a si toeaina o Vaitulia. Nothing like your funeral to make people find out what kind of person you were in life. Latin was hilarious with his molimau "Mo lo outou silafia, o au o Alatina le atalii faafafine a Ioelu." Meanwhile the ladies behind us were like "o ai foi si toeaina lea ua maliu?"...auuuu free funeral food! Anyway, mad dash back to Salelologa to make the 4pm boat, quick stop at Burger Bills to park in front and eat our funeral food much to the annoyance of the BB staff.

Had the weekend from hell. No details, but I have burn marks, chocolate stains and a strained back to show for it. Sounds raunchy. Either I had amazing chocolate sex all weekend or I was baking 40 cakes. Take your pick.

Work is going along smoothly. I haven't screamed at anybody yet, and it's been 3 months on the job. Miracle right?

Everyone busy with SIDS conference happening at the end of the month. 16 more days! Talk of the town. Will the venue be ready in time? Is there enough accommodation? Are there even enough people coming? Has the dog management unit got all the strays under control? Have they grown enough grass on the venue to make it look like they didn't just start building it yesterday? Have they recruited enough people from the church to work on the landscaping? Are there enough barely visible banners hanging from every lamp post? Oh the pressure.

In other news, it's the freakin weekend. I'm going to spend it in a hotel somewhere with my feet up. Feet not legs. Whatever.

Monday, 4 August 2014

Cake woes #754

So I promised my friend that I would make like the best superhero cake everrrr for his 7 year old son. That was like 3 months ago. The birthday has arrived. Like. Tomorrow. And I have no farking idea what to do! Motherkefs. I had big dreams for a three tiered cake of Superman, Batman and Spiderman with Hulk fist on the top. But bleh I can't make fondant to save my life. Now it's a sheet cake. Lord help me I'll be up all night shitting myself. And googling and pinteresting.

Pics of the nightmare to be posted up some day never. Good laaak.

Sunday, 3 August 2014

Daily post fail already

Well that was a fail wasn't it. Haha! Never make promises on a Friday...shuddup Goddess.

My excuse.

I was the victim of a kidnapping by 3 children, god knows who owns them (well half of them anyway haha juhu). I was made to stay home and make banana smoothies. I had to google the recipe. What? That's what maccas is there for. And then watch Pirate Fairy three times straight, before the cash power finished and we spent the rest of the afternoon vigorously fanning ourselves because it was so bloody hot, the electric fan not working OBVIOUSLY and I was waiting for someone to pick up their cake (melting in the fast defrosting fridge) so I could use the money to buy cash power.

On Sunday I was victim yet again. Of povi masima, faiai fe'e, and fried chicken. Need I say more? I needed a 5 hour nap just to recover from that one.

Is that a valid enough excuse? Lol.

Thursday, 31 July 2014

Once a day it is

So I promised the Inconsistent Blogger that I too would write a blog a day. Good luck, that means half of it will be rubbish, cos I only get spurts of intelligent writing like once a week, if that.

It's Fridayyyy. Here's what's going down baby.

Get sloshed at fiesta, crawl to Sheeshas for more sloshing, and end a fabulous night wiping down the club x floor with my skirt, before speeding to maccas to eat 2 big macs and feeling immensely sorry for myself and my purse the following not what is going to happen. Unfortunately.

I'm looking for a flat. My budget is $500 - $700 a month. I'm not fussy, obviously given my budget. As long as it has walls and a roof.

Oooh I got a facial done today. My face is still reeling from being raped.

Ok would love to write more but it's 5pm and I need to rush home for no particular reason.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

Love your kids

Hot case in court at the moment. 

19 year old girl, extremely intoxicated, crashed her car killing 2 boys. She pleads not guilty to manslaughter. She denies she was driving her car.

Seriously. Who the fuck was driving, the third gunman on the grassy knoll? Come on defense, try another one. The other passenger who survived testified she was driving, not to mention the numerous witnesses.

My two sene. Plead guilty and do the time. Stop prolonging it for these poor boys' families. Even if she goes free, it will be on her conscience forever. She owes it to their memory to tell the truth. 

A lesson here. Take better care of your kids. Just because you're rich, doesn't mean you let your kids drive your car to go out and get drunk with their friends. Not to be judgemental (too late) but the girl's parents are ultimately responsible for the fuck up their daughter is in. If they put the necessary controls in place, none of this would have happened. What is to become of our children, if we allow them to do whatever the hell they want? Show them your love by being responsible parents.

Shit day

I am having a shit day.

I feel ugly. And fat. I know, that's like every day but today is ten times worse. My eyebrows haven't seen a tweezer or wax strip for months. My hair is almost completely grey. Pores the size of small craters. Jesus I just described Ekuale. With a dress on, and slightly less smell of urine.

I feel unloved. And lonely. Well. Most ugly fat people do, don't they.

My legs are aching. Whose bright idea was it to walk on the seawall yesterday anyway.

I had lamb chops and mash for lunch. Swimming in oil and the promise of a clogged artery.

I've almost finished watching first season of Black List, which I lurve. Is there life after that, I don't know and scared to find out.

My co worker is annoying me. Ain't nobody got time for dramas and subservience.

It's Wednesday and my social calendar is empty. I'm only 25, this can't be happening.

Please God give me a better day tomorrow and a voucher to Misiluki day spa to keukeu the no nice.

Thursday, 24 July 2014

The losing battle

I need to lose weight. Story of my life. Tired of crash diets, there's gotta be a better way. I need some abs and a tight ass. Dear God that's all I ask for. Pretty please.

The obstacles:

Gyms. I. HATE. GYMS. Gyms are for the brave. And the skinny. And the rich. Cos let's face it. The people who go to gyms are skinny, decked up in jewellery and nike gear. I have never seen another person like me at the gym. You know, smoking hot and all. Ok, the unco one in a baggy tshirt and coin save tights.

Takeaway dinners. I can't give it up. I owe it to Chickalicious to keep them in continuing to buy 4 piece dinner packs.

Fanta. I love you. We will never part.

Work. It's too close to Farmer Joe, Burger Bills, Nellas and Fias bbq. Shet, I'm surrounded and helpless.

Friends. Always shouting me lunch. Sigh. Why guys? Why do you do this to me?

Ok losing weight. Never gonna happen. Moving on....

Monday, 21 July 2014

Tuesday thoughts for the recycle bin

So over the bullshit. This place is rife with it. Stop smiling in my face while your knife is stuck in my back.

A former work colleague of mine died yesterday. Very sad. She was only in her early 40s. What a fragile hold we have over our mortality. And the domino effect it has on your family. I can't imagine what my kids would do if something happened to me. Nobody to yell at them, poor things. 

Last minute. Work. Requests for money. Ads for tomorrow's paper. Calls that cash power is finished. Milk has run out. Kefs. 

I quit drinking last year. By God I don't know how I survived but I am dying for a farking drink. 

Separation in progress. Not much difference from married life because he was never home anyway. Kids are ok, that's the main thing. 

Still baking a bit. I think my creative streak has hit a curveball though. I've had two complaints in the last month. Fark me. Quality taking a dive because I just find no joy in it except getting paid for it. No good.

Yeah that's it. Wax on, wax off. 

Sunday, 20 July 2014

New gadget can't work it

I got a new laptop today yay. A macbook air. Brand new, so sleek and purrdy. The novelty soon wore off after I set it up and turned it on and then was like whaaa the faaak. What do I do now? Where's the Start thingy? Where's Microsoft Office? Where the fark is the mouse scroll thing? Jesus. Turned it off and will try again tomorrow haha.  

Getting that urge for a baby again

Friends are getting pregnant. I'm jealous. I never thought I'd see the day when I would say "I really want to have another baby." Seriously. Why would I even? I already have 3 kids who drive me up the wall every farking day, do I really need to add to the chaos? Not to mention the expense, these bloody kids can sure pack it away, plus school fees and the amount of toilet paper they go through ha!

So now the youngest devil is 4 years old. She's such a big baby, still drags her speech, pretends she can't write her numbers, gives big smiles and bear hugs to get away with murder, and likes to sleep on my lap. Of late, I've felt a maternal pang, and I suddenly yearn for another baby.

Yes I am running solo, but there is no lack of donors in town, let me just put that out there lmao.

I got pregnant three months ago. I was sick as a dog from day 1. Combined with being at home, broke and depressed. Two months later, I had a miscarriage. Just one of those things I guess, just woke up one night and blood everywhere. Needless to say, I became more depressed and felt more sorry for myself than ever. Luckily I got a job a week later and it has helped me to get over myself. On the bright side at least we know I'm still fertile :)

So yeah. Still wanting another baby. All in good time I suppose.

Monday, 14 July 2014

Kids say the damndest things

Ok my first kid post. Some memorable comments from the mouths of babes.

"Do you have enough money to buy me a milkshake or is it too expensive? Bet you didn't know I know the word expensive, ah Mummy?" - 5 year old

"I know you have a boyfriend, I don't know why you bother trying to hide it when I hear you giggling away on the phone in the room. And in the dark!" - 8 year old (don't know what she's on about, and hey, who's the adult here anyway)

"Grandma when you die, I get the TV ok?" - 5 year old
"Yeah well when she dies, I get the remote, so good luck trying to turn on the TV" (evil laugh) - 8 year old

"I don't want to go to school anymore. The teacher always eats my lunch" - 4 year old

"Grandma can you read me a book? Mummy won't read to me cos she's busy getting ready to go out. AGAIN." - 5 year old

"Mummy can you PLEASE pay my school fee? It's 5 weeks overdue." - 8 year old.

"My mummy works to get money to feed us and buy all the things we need. My daddy works to go to JP's bar." - 8 year old.

Writing vs job

Gosh so many controversial issues I want to write about. But I work for a bloody newspaper now, so if my colleagues or boss (God forbid) happen across my blog, it won't be pretty. OR they might promote me to editor. Ha. So I'll stick to bland topics like world peace, and government corruption (which my newspaper is all for), and horoscopes and oh my kids how can I forget them, the bane of my existence. Pretty limited, but once I've befriended bribed all my work mates, then I can start being the real me and writing whatever the hell I want lol.

But can I just say that I love my job. It's my dream job seriously. Wait. I said that about my last job and look how that panned out. Bleh. Ok let's give it 3 months. In the meantime, I should get back to work aye.  

Get iced for cancer

So the ice challenge fad is going around. Get doused with ice, simulating chemotherapy and support cancer. Right. Skeptics say what's the point, it's just a waste of ice when you could use that money to donate to cancer research. Well actually, you get iced AND you donate AND you possibly get pneumonia AND everyone on Facebook gets to watch you make a fool of yourself. Or die like that idiot who got sloshed and then got iced. So I guess it's meaningful somehow.

I'm doing the ice challenge tomorrow. Club X is having an ice challenge. I'm all for the cause, dude. And the free beer.

Thursday, 10 July 2014

Whatever happened to growing up like a normal kid

Couple of pet peeves I have with the way kids are growing up these days.

Tino is 8 years old. She hates wearing short shorts, and when I try to make her wear them (I don't care if they're too short now after you've worn them for the past 5 years, Mr Lavalava hasn't got any specials on right now), she throws them at me (never mind the behaviour, we'll discuss that in another post). And then I see other little girls of similar age and in their teens. Skimpy little shorts that barely hide their ass cheeks. Tight little tops. Tell me mothers, why do you let your daughters dress like little tarts? Like little girls who just can't be bothered being 10 anymore and just want to be 21 already and walking the streets. Seriously. If you are trying to relive your glory days on the Matautu wharf through your 10 year old child, dude, please, just stop. Let your kid grow up morally sound, with dignity, and self worth, and without the eyes of every creep on her uncovered thighs. I love that my kid hates wearing short shorts, a two piece or anything revealing. That's the way it should be. Until she's 50.

When your kid starts taking Facebook more seriously than say, doing her homework, you react in one of two ways. You breathe a sigh of relief and thank God that your child is a normal 12 year old who is on her way to having a steady social life and boyfriend. Yay! Or you think "Oh. Hell. No. Ain't no child of mine gonna be addicted to taking a selfie every ten minutes, making stupid duck faces, and calling her friends twinnie when there isn't the remotest resemblance between them." Parents need to take more of the second reaction. Get a hold of your child. She has plenty of time to grow up, no need to rush things. My aim is for my daughters to grow up enjoying their childhood, reveling in the simple things, and not caught up in the materialism and social fakeness which is fast becoming the norm for kids from a young age.

Phones are now allowed in schools? Why? Why do you give your kids phones anyway? If you're saying it's for emergencies, and so that your kids can call you, don't kid yourself. There are never any emergencies and your kids never call you. Your kids are using those phones to contact their friends, viber, whatsapp, facebook, whatever. As far as I'm concerned my child is in school to learn, interact with other students, eat her lunch (and possibly someone elses) and go home when the bell rings. That's it. No stupid phones and taking selfies at lunchtime and texting during class.

Yeah. Come on parents, spend a little more time and effort on making sure your kid is growing up right. And I shall try to take a page out of my own book lol.

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

Can you just stick to one damn blog

I don't like staying put. I am well known to be indecisive. Windy, the laus call it. Nobody bothers to plan anything with me because whatever I said the first time, is going to go in circles and over the mountains and down back around the town clock before I decide nah you guys go ahead. Why I am even bothering to explain this is to tell you why I have a new blog. Whoever of you have persisted in following me up the mountain and down the Taufusi auku, you guys are the reason I continue to write. You and the voices that tell me omg Nydia you're the next Pulitzer prize winner dude. Yeah man. I forgot where this was going. Oh yeah! New blog. New me. New year. New situations and complications. That's me bro. Read on lol.

Monday, 2 June 2014

And it never ends

Here we are again.

What happened after the jump.

I left my job. Long story.
I became serious about my baking business.
I was in and out of hospital for a series of different stupid things.
I became a solo mother. Not a widow. He's still alive, unfortunately.
I came to know what it was like to be completely penniless. Completely and utterly broke as a motherfarker. No fun, I tell ya.
My social life remains dormant. Not likely to change. My outings consist mainly of trips to the bank to ask how I can exchange my children for a loan.

Yes I am back. We all know something is wrong when I start blogging again.