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!
Thursday, 4 December 2014
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.
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.
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 sponsors...so 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.
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 sponsors...so 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.
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.
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.
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.
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 jealous.org. 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.
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 jealous.org. 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)