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."
Hacked?
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."

Kae.

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.

Tuesday, 3 February 2015

Third world school problems

School's back on for the brats. Yay. All 3 are now in primary school. How time flies thank you jesus. No more sleepless nights (on account of a hungry infant). No more driving across town looking for a specific S26 Gold formula. No more buying cheap diapers and then hiding them piko i lalo o le trolley so when I meet rich mothers gliding by with their box of Huggies, I don't get a disdainful look of "Soft Love. Eww."

Instead, all that has been replaced by school uniforms, bags, drink bottles, stationery...my god no wonder Eveni and SSAB make a killing. Lunches! The bane of my existence. Why can't children be satisfied with bread and butter and water every day anymore? Kamaiki ua fia ai spaghetti and cheese toastie, with a muffin on the side, and lemonade, and a snack while they wait to be picked up after school. Oh hell nurr! Bread, butter, jam (sometimes), an apple (if they're lucky) and water. Pugi.




Sunday, 11 January 2015

Hello 2015

Is it January already?

Quiet holiday season.
Work was shet. My boss was being a grinch. Other workers continue to power trip.
The sitter went home for the holidays. I was left with 3 hyperactive children, 2 parents who needed something done every 10 seconds, and a pile of laundry which filled the garage and half the driveway.
Then I had cake orders. Much as I despised them, heck I needed the money for the kids' gifts. And the size 4 pua'a that dad gifted to himself paid for by his children. Yaye.
Two straight weeks of this shit, and now I'm sick. Chest infection or something. Bleh. Keige gei e le malolo for some infection. Keige gei faakoa malolo pe a kuu ile pu.

New Years resolutions:

Be more mentally stable. How, I don't know. But for fuck's sake enough crying.
Be a better mom. Stop beating them up.
Be a better daughter. Stop being defensive every time they judge you for coming home at 4am. You are after all still living in their house.
Be a better child of God. Go to church.
Stop caring so much about the little things. It's the little things that fuck your brain up. Don't overthink things. You only hurt yourself, a la e happy a lakou ia.
Travel. Even if it's to Savaii. Get out of the damn house before you suffocate.
Stop stalking the girl crush. It isn't healthy. And petrol is expensive.
Get started on your goddamn book. Criticising everyone else who has written a book already doesn't fly. Have you written on your book? Ia pugi ma amaka loa.
Hate on work less. The more you fake enjoy it, the more productive you are. Never mind the egotistic masochistic and all other lunatics which surround you. Your traits are far worse lol.
Less mindspace on that guy. Ain't nobody got time.
Save. Money. Everything else is beyond redemption. Let's aim for a car this year.
Get pregnant. Whaaat?!

Ok. Sounds like a semi-achieveable NY's resolution. I'll revisit this in a few months, see where we are :)

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 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.