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.

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.

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.