Showing posts from 2007

Happy Holidays :)

Well it's been an interesting week on the East Coast. My visions of a white Christmas were quite abruptly blown out of the water by the realisation that firstly it wasn't snowing in DC and secondly it had somehow never been mentioned to me that family here were Jehovah's Witness (of the sort who don't believe in celebratory acts) so not only was there no white, there wasn't even a Christmas. At least not of the traditional tree, presents and drunken family members sort that I'm used to. Nevertheless, after a "boohoo for me" moment, I decided to just build a bridge and make the most of being half way across the world. So I caught up with friends, went to museums, shopped in 5 storey malls, read books on the metro, and come Christmas Eve I found myself performing the decidedlly gay (or French) greeting (kissing both cheeks) at a rather international Christmas Eve dinner in upmarket Van Ness close to downtown DC. After a great dinner of unrecognisable d…

HNL > LAX > Washington, Dulles

Touched down in LAX half an hour early. Determined to be ready for the cold, I am bundled like a displaced Eskimo in scarf, woolly sweater and a coat in hand, you know, in case a blizzard blows the top off LAX. The majority of people here are wearing t shirts. I guess I'm a little over enthusiastic, and who can blame me, I come from the buttcrack of the equator, who knows how my sun drenched skin will react to streets lined with ice. I'm sure I'll think I was in some kind of giant cocktail and half expect liqueur to come gushing from the sky.

Since I’m doing another one of my airport recaps let’s see… It's been a crazy last week of school. Crazy. Thesis changed. Again and again. Right down to the day I handed it in. The process was long and dragging to get it to the state I submitted in, which was "completed". Well sort of. I settled on "Regulation and Innovation in Telecommunications in Samoa." More on thesis crap another day but just quickly I…

Not to be poetic or anything...


Spontaneous smiles and booming laughs.
Talk about life. About truth.
About nothing in comfortable silences.
Sweet nothings and sweet everythings.
Safety in embrace.
So different, yet so familiar.
Each with own dreams.
And own demons.
But sharing a lens to the world. A paradigm.
Like two were tangents in a past life.
Or perhaps in a future one.
Scared. That it's just a dream.
Uncertain because it seems so fast.
But remembering.
That where nothing is certain, everything is possible.
It's quite possible.
That it feels right.
Simply because, it is right.
The smell, the feeling, the sight.
It's a beautiful thing.
To just.

For Aps

Old man's smile.

Young child.
Eyes to a soul so deep.
Carrying a burden of expectation.
On a personal mission.
To make the old man smile.

The furrows in your brow.
As winds blew and nights got cold.
And semesters dragged on.
Scars of a growing up.
Of perseverance.

Onwards with the quest.
Stopping occasionally.
To live a little.
Stumbling occasionally.
Feeling like "The End" was a ruse.

Turning to music.
To God.
To wise mummy.
To the old man's smile.
To light the way again.

I've seen the determination.
In your quiet demeanor.
The eloquence in your writing.
It betrays you.
I've seen you fight.

Fight to get there.
To see it through.
I smile as I think of you.
I know your old man smiles.
As he watches you walk.

Young woman
With your furrowed brow
And your deep soulful eyes.
With your burdens and missions and eloquence.
You've always had your old man's smile.

It's in you.

Pour humour

The weather is temperamental today. The showers are intermittent, and indecisive. Much like watching badly timed commercials on TV in Samoa. It's as though God's up there beyond the clouds playing with the "rain" button laughing at dry people get soaked after misreading the clouds.

Case in point. I decided to walk my freshly showered ass over to my friends office on campus as we'd decided to do lunch. After I deciding against taking an umbrella and opting for a sandwich place right across campus, no doubt I was asking God to wring a rain cloud over my head. My friend, being the smart grad student that he is decided to take an umbrella just in case. As fate would have it, the second we step out of the building niagra falls rains on me. We decide to make a dash for it. Now, if you can picture two "healthy" sized Pacific Islanders trying to fit under an umbrella clearly made for anorexia patients practically swimming through campus while being pelted by r…

Intellectual banter.

F - "Schools a bitch. Wanna drink?"

J - "I have to write a paper."

F - "Ewww."

[Enter C]

F - "C, J wants to study."

C - "Ewww J"

J - "What? It's due at 8"

F & C - "Boooo"

Dammit light at the end, where are you?

The home stretch is always the hardest. It's the last week of school and it is dragging ass.

I'm there. I'm almost done. I just can't be bothered.

Devoid of inspiration. Motivation. Energy. Desire.


I can't sleep. I can barely study.

I just want to scream in a room until I can't scream anymore so I can just get on with it.



Ok, here's me just getting on with it.

Thoughts of an Indian.

RHD Issue.

It's a current issue that is hot on the press and heating up the heads of a not consulted public and business community. And rightly so I say. HRPP has blitzed a Right Hand Drive bill through Parliament, ineffectively opposed, if at all and is now sitting confidently, sharing a beer and a laugh amongst cronies while they ride out the public backlash.

Tui touts the "vision for the future", "tourism" and "help the poor" cards like he was addressing an entire nation of idiots who can't decide for themselves what's good for themselves. Clearly Tui's leadership has gotten us far, but it's as though, the man cannot be reasoned with. Who does he think he is to expect us to have blind faith in him? Jesus Christ? It's a level of presumptuousness that I find arrogant and disappointing.

I am primarily outraged, not at the preposterousness of this bill, but at how it was inadvertently force-fed to a nation full businesses, drivers …

All day at the dentist.

Waiting Room

Air con billows
Chilling the sterile air
Plastic Christmas tree
Failing to quell the damp stench of sick in the air
With it's feigned recycled festivity.

Waiting lines
Walk ins. "But it's an emergency!"'
"These people have been here for hours sir.
You'll have to wait in line"
Ill, impatient eyes divert around the room
Screaming "Get in line asshole!"

Tap tap
Goes the secretary's keyboard
Loudly exerting her authority
Impatient frustration on her face
And the day's not even
Half done

With her flowing maroon flora dress
Embroidery about the waist
She waits in line
Behind Mary Ann, the old haole
In the orange shirt demanding service
Like she's entitled.

Big brother
Plays with baby sister
"Cooochycoo. Yesh you arre beaudifuul arenchtoo"
Bright laughing innocent eyes
Smiles crack around the room.

I read.
I write. Shift shift
Sweep a gaze over the room again
Still the same since two hours ago
Except for changi…

Master communicator.

Doing a masters in communications makes me wonder what the heck I'm going to do with myself after I'm done. I mean sure I have some idea, but.. seriously. The only real expectation one can have when they see MA (Communications) is that one might expect me to be a what? A master communicator. Ha! Whatever that is.

I was in correspondence with a seasoned Comm professor (a Doctor communicator) of mine recently trying to set up a meeting and even after a year of being in constant correspondence and being in his classes, he still gets my name wrong.

Ironic, yea.


Dear Ex,

You're sorry?

You're sorry.


Well, don't be. Even though you should be. But you know what, I'm not.

As suckful and sordid as it was, I'm not sorry it happened. In fact, I'm thankful it happened. I didn't know what I wanted. Thanks to you, I know what I don't want.

I don't want someone who is sweet and funny and talks to me for hours on end, but doesn't mean a word they say. I don't want someone who forges a deep connection with me but is really pretty shallow. I don't want someone who loves me truly, but is indecisive, selfish and really only loves himself. I don't want good times, excitement, and butterflies that are founded on "hope", "maybe" and "tomorrow". I don't need someone that doesn't know a damn good thing when he's got it and then wants more.

You were pretty fucking selfish. And I was a damn fool to wait for it to end how it did. But whatever, it was easier to live in t…


I often say, that I am all I am because of you.
If you didn't push me, if you didn't scold me
I would never try so hard to be the best.
The best, that's me. That's who I am.
By your definition. And has become my definition.

The truth is, you set that expectation.
Be the best - was the standard. Not do your best.
Memories of screaming and beating at second place in exams.
After all, the only time you noticed me was when I didn't come first in class.
When I didn't get a straight A report. When I almost didn't graduate.

When I did come first, it was just the norm. Good job. Pat on the back.
My graduation certificates gather dust, in a stack on the piano.
Then, you found my poems and you said "you're talented, you ungrateful little child."
I didn't expect a parade. Or perhaps I did. Twelve year olds like parades.
I don't know. Perhaps, I just wanted to feel "good enough".

Now I know, I still sound like that ungrateful child.
And some part of…

Ya know?

This I know.

It's got much less to do with what you know.
Then it is about how to know.
About having the confidence in your ability to know as much as the Asian/ Palagi/ older/ richer/ male person next to you or standing at the front of the classroom.
And about having the humility to know that you probably don't know it all. Not even nearly.
But most importantly, it's about having the sense to know that knowing it, does not equal doing anything about it.

What do you know?

Make Sense.

Excuse me?! The indignation!
Isn't that lovely :):):) This taastes AMAZING!
A series of exclamations as my heightened senses throw me around on a particularly morose Monday.
Exhausting!... Melancholy... Depressed.
Coffee. Sweet. Sugar High. Giddy. Delicious.
I neither feel happy nor sad. I just feel.

I'm questioning.
Making snap judgments
He's so arrogant. Who is he to know?
Oh I absolutely agree! It's like this one time...
What's the point? How does this apply outside of this room?
These bloody people don't know what they're on about!
I neither think right or wrong. I just think.

Your culture. My culture.
Where do we draw the line?
Well it depends. Who's drawing the line?
Accept me. Reject me.
Should I care what you think?
To whom should I matter?
To God? To mother? To teacher? To me?
I am neither this nor that. I just am.

So I'm kind of a survey whore.

Three things that scare me:
1 Loss
2 Disappointment
3 Alone

Three people who make me laugh:
1 Sister
2 Jimmy
3 Divas

Three Things I love:
1 Funny
2 Delicious
3 Family

Three Things I hate:
1 Ignorance
2 Liars
3 Doubt

Three things I don't understand:
1 Academicians
2 Vegans
3 Feminism

Three things on my desk:
1 Paper!
2 Phone
3 Clutter

Three things I'm doing right now:
1 Thinking
2 Waking up
3 Sitting

Three things I want to do before I die:
1 Achieve
2 Be crazy in love.
3 Give

Three things I can do:
1 Cook
2 Question
3 Laugh louder than everyone in the room (except Shelly)

Three ways to describe my personality:
1 Crazy
2 Fun
3 Grounded

Three things I can't do:
1 Stay in grad school longer than I have to
2 Bake like Grandma
3 Play an instrument

Sure signs you're going crazy.

You have the serenity prayer as your desktop wallpaper to abate your sporadic anxiety attacks as you spend all day reading through at least half a forest's worth of paper because you've decided to start your 40 page thesis from scratch, and THEN it's 7pm and you're sitting in class annoyed at having been made to interact with other beings and you look down to avert your eyes from shooting daggers and you notice... you're wearing different shoes!


Kefe ia se.

Moral of the story: When under pressure, be careful not to look like an airhead.

kid moment.

Today, my friend and i were browsing through an overpriced handicrafts store in downtown honolulu, you know the type? janet's. It's one of those stores that you don't want to take your naughty four year old into. It has lots of pretty little things that you want to touch and open and feel the texture, but you don't want to break. I think my friend and I saw a calabash (glorified wooden bowl) no bigger than a 2 liter container of ice cream on "sale" for about $375. I mean, ok it's pretty - but, do you lose weight if you eat out of it, come on! I should say though, as a poor student, eating with real cutlery rather than plastic forks is about the extent of my appreciation of the finer things in life right now but seriously, it looked like a wooden bowl to me.

So, I'm looking around, approving of the plumeria hand sanitiser I'd tried, and thinking how nice the fabric on the framed panoramic photographs were when I spot a display of little brown wo…

Fish Tale

I found this out recently talking to an old friend of my Grandmother's who now lives here in Honolulu. She tells me stories of the old days.


A well known feature of Vaisala - is the swamp - the Taufusi. It's pure swamp, has been the vaikaele for the village for a long ass time up until we had water tanks and vai mai through the pipes. Which wasn't that much better. Some of my earliest memories are playing iga ve'a in amongst the reeds and marshes of the murky Taufusi with Seleni, Lupe and Seleisa, my neighbours.

Taufusi 2

So I just found out that the Taufusi - a swampy marsh by the coast in Vaisala was originally a fish pond. It was the first breeding pond for Tilapia in Samoa back in the 1960s (or thereabouts). And some mornings when after the high tides that overflowed from the ocean into the pond had subsided, the roads lay littered with fish.

That's it really. LoL

The beach by the Taufusi at low tide.

When she told me though, I had such a stark visual - th…

White flag, fai mai ai Dido.

Well, my homework is still up in the air. But I've decided it's Friday. Don't Feel Guilty About Not Doing Homework Friday, in fact. So here, have a party hat, wave a flag, blow a horn.

Toot toot.

Speaking of horns and flags, it's no secret I've been waving the "I like bad boys" banner and then consequently the "All men are assholes" flag for a while in defiance at all the disappointments dealt to me and every other woman from the Love Tarot of Life. Yes. That's me. The chick with the cute shoes waving the "Men are Evil Horny Assholes" flag. LoL! Lately though I've considered, what if... I'm wrong.

Seriously. WHAT IF, not every man out there is out to use lines, have cheap drunken sex (not that that's ever happened to me :P) to cultivate some half-assed excuse for a "relationship" and then disappear at length leaving girls with nothing but a series of hangovers and a reinforced belief in a self fulfilled prophec…

Stuck and Storming.

I'm 26 pages in, I'm theorising out of my ass and I'm stuck. I can't find a theory that "clicks" with what I want to look at. Bits and pieces of theories are informing my arguments where necessary buuuut... it's not coming together quite like I need it to. Perhaps my arguments are flawed. Argh.

I know it's simply because I'm not looking hard enough (there are theories for everything out there) and because I'm so hell bent on making this applied that I've decided on outcomes and am working backwards scouring literature to create theoretical foundations rather than the "proper" inductive approach of letting the questions, themes and answers "emerge" from the theory and data. Bad bad researcher deserves to get stuck. I can't be stuffed because grad school is seriously, stuffy enough as it is.

I've learned though, that much of what you learn in grad school you don't learn in the classroom. It's in discussi…

Spam for thought.

Spam sifting. Found this. Kinda cute. Thought to share.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It is madness to hate all roses because you got scratched with one thorn,

to give up on your dreams because one didn’t come true,

to lose faith in prayers because one wasn’t answered,

to give up on your efforts because one of them failed,

to condemned all of your friends because one betrayed you,

not to believe in love because someone was unfaithful or didn’t love you back,

to throw away all your chances to be happy because you didn’t succeed on the first attempt..

Just don't ever give up.

Halloween '07

Well, Halloween was utter craziness in Waikiki. After last year's equally crazy showdown I knew I had to make an event out of it this year. I found it a perfectly good excuse to buy a brand new pair of shoes which I can't stress enough to people that don't care just how AWESOME they are! So awesome that if it had rained... I would trolloped around Waikiki barefoot in my flaming pantyhose just so I wouldn't ruin the suede. That didn't eventuate, and probably wouldn't have after my upteenth glass of ghastly fluids mixed up by the psychadelic disco girl with the fake lashes. But alas, the point is, they are pretty fucking awesome. So there! :) I'll stop now. So I got decked out in devil wear (which is a stretch, I admit ;)) and hit town with some psychadelic disco dancers, a sheriff, a vampire, a mummy and an exchange student from the future to get in amongst the madness.

The night was a big colourful blurrr and I won't say much other than the fact that I …

Tears, Elegi & Love

Yesterday, his Highness Tui Atua Tupua Tamasese Efi, Head of State of Samoa spoke at the Richardson School of Law at the University of Hawaii.

I got a call to come help set up, so off I went two hours prior, decked out in my puletasi and sei, dragging siapos across the floor and making bouquets that I couldn't help but think that anyone in Samoa would be ashamed to have on display at a head of state's address (ma'imau aga i gei Dolly). He arrived. He spoke to a room full of academics, invited guests and students. His talk was on "Samoan Jurisprudence and Samoan Lands and Titles Court" - a topic that from the outset, he claimed to know little about. But he spoke from his perspective as a Samoan who lives his culture and loves his land. He spoke of acknowledging and building on the indigenous reference. Too often, he said, the assumption is that we must use the western perspective and frame of mind to inform our own. He urged that perhaps we must rephrase the que…

So, what are you doing?

I read about cellphones mostly.

Cell phones. I have one. You probably do too. Mobile telephony is the worlds most pervasive technology. More than half the population of the entire world has one. Even though that statistic is slightly skewed it's still a glaring number that indicates that we are living in the digital age. Telecommunications. Why study it? So people can communicate? So what? So my aunty Peka in the village can more easily place collect calls to her kids in South Auckland for money? Big deal.

What's the big deal with Telecommunications?

Yes, it's as simple as allowing people to talk to each other, but then of course, it's not. Think of a university. A workplace, a government, any organisation. Can the university function for one day without it's phones, without email, without it's billing systems, library catalogue, without internet? The Bus, Honolulu International Airport, Wall Street, this University. We all operate on the premise that we can talk…



He'd be crazy about me. And I'd be crazily attracted to him.

He'd be funny. He'd be honest. He'd be strong.

He'd challenge me, without patronising me. He'd live his own vision, but can see the world as I see it.

I would listen. And be listened to. And with him, I would feel like I am growing as a person.

We'd have fun.

And he'd be... the metamorphosis of Nelson Mandela and Johnny Depp? LOL


The Remix (Gold-digger's Edit)

Ideally.Dear Santa

He'd be crazy about me. And I'd be crazily attracted to him.he'd be hot.

He'd be funny. He'd be honest. He'd be strong. He'd be

He'd challenge me, without patronising meand let me win. He'd live his own vision, but can seepay for the world as I see it. (without a prenup)

I would listen. And be listened to. And with him, I would feel like I am growing as a wealth.

I'd We'd have fun.

And h…

I should just be a stripper.

I envy singers and tennis players who wake up every day doing what they love. They make damn good money. And they sleep easy at night. At least the ones on TV do.

The road to grad school has been paved with good intentions, expectations and acquired desires to pick a path and be damn good at something and make a difference. But what of desires? What of dreams? What of doing it for the love of it. If I woke up tomorrow and decided I wanted to dance for a living (which hold your sarcasm, it's a hypothetical, plus, pole dancers make damn good money! Ha!) would I have the courage to own it, tell my mother and go for it?

Recent conversation. What makes me smile. Good question. I've smiled for so long I can't remember why I do it. I smile because, it's selfish not to. I smile because I have the privilege of not living a life of tears and pain so quite frankly, how dare I not smile.

It crosses my mind that I'm just over-thinking it and I'm not applying myself enough to w…

Wake up little Suzy, wake up.

Wake up music. The White Stripes - My Doorbell. Push Play.

I am a morning person.

At least I've realised that most days I am. I get up early almost every day, no matter what time I went to bed. Some days it's because I'm dehydrated as hell after giving my liver a hard time the night before but most days, it's just out of habit. Now this is both good and a complete waste of sleeping in time depending on how you look at it but one thing I cannot stand about getting up early here is sharing a bathroom with 9 other morning people.

Lines for the shower. Funky unidentifiable shit in the shower. People moving or using your products. Water all over the damn bathroom floor. Why some people feel the need to keep their faces a good meter away from the sink and then splash! splash! splash! themselves, will forever puzzle me. "Dear, e ke fiu e asu vai o ga lava e daken ou foren exchange. Ga o le susu vale ai o le mea." I've had to hold back from grabbing her by the ha…

Man up, bitch!

I've been so emo lately, feeling uber sensitive and asking big life questions. Yes, sickening isn't it? I'm rather disgusted with myself.

"Don't off my mind!"

I'm pissed that lately I haven't been feeling quite like my cynical, spiteful, black-hearted self that saw the world for the evil, blood-sucking place it is and hated it unapologetically. Who is this sugary, glossy eyed girl who has the time to be surprised that the world is anything less than a damn shitty place some days?

I swear, I think old age is making me soft. Just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. And to all the geriatrics quick to point out that 23 hardly qualifies as old age, and that "life is what you make it." Please Grandma, save your "youth is wasted on the young" spiels for someone else with a hearing aid. You're wrinkly! Tough shit!

*Deep breath*

Ok, I feel better.

Pancake Land

It's a great place. Without dramas or debt. No due dates, no questions of life purpose, no gossip. Just reggae, great weather, fiiine men (on mute) and pancakes. Lots of pancakes. Where is this eutopia, you might ask? Well I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Or say really horrible things about you behind your back or something. All I can tell you is that I went there. On Sunday. And it was great. :)

Following a great night out at a rather creatively named establishment called "The Monkey Bar" of laughs, dancing and being crammed into a boot with a teacher who could point out mormons just by looking at them (even in the dark apparently. lol) my friend and I decided to "go cruise" in the official vehicle that we'd scored for the day. Oh yea, perfect. Two girls, going to the beach, tryna look cute, and pulling up in a big old 15 seater Chevy Van with workplace name tagged all over it. Sexy. lol.

We stopped for breakfast at a little out of way pl…

The one reason I respect the English.


Now I can't stand the English Rugby team for reasons I can't quite articulate. Perhaps it's the fact that they too often beat out teams I respect and look like they might win it 2 World Cups in a row or perhaps I just hate that constipated way JW kicks buuut, if the greatest band of all time sing their official song, ok whatever, I can groove to it. I'd love to rub each of their smug faces in the mud afterwards (because yea, I'm just a hater like that, WHAAT?) but, I can put that aside for 3 minutes and let Ali Campbell move me, coz the man just does. Sigh.

Just leave me in the chocolate aisle.

Months ago, I underwent a detox regimine which I must say worked for me. "Worked" means that after I ate nothing but lemon juice for 8 days - I consisently ate less, slept more and felt better. At least it was up until this past week.

This week I have eaten entire big fat bars of chocolate, ordered late night pizza, had everything "with tositos on the side" and scoffed down enough donuts and cake to make even the Biggest loser blush. So begins the retoxification process. Now, I am only a little worried seeing as I ate pretty reasonably in the past two months. After one night earlier this week that I went through my phone address book at about 11 at night asking "hey, you wouldn't happen to have any cake would you?" my friends are asking me 1) Are you pregnant? and 2) Will double filled oreos do?

Now I'm pretty sure that I'm not the immaculate conception part duex. Pretty sure.

The only explanation - aside from the possibility that the cleanse …

Think Pink for Tits McGee!


Having a moment.

I spoke the other day to one of my girlfriends about "playing the field" (I've been having this conversation a lot lately - eeek) about why we go for bad ones knowing full well they're bad and shun the good ones even though, they'd likely make us happier. And all that other rationalising crap

"I'd be with someone even though I know they don't love me, even though I know they don't care, but when I'm with them, just for that one ridiculous moment, I feel good. If I don't have anyone to love me, anyone to care. At least I feel good"


"Well yea. I want to matter to someone. It's really that simple. And not in that daughterly or I got your back friend kind of way. In that, craving, silly, unexplainably drawn to kind of way. But if I can't have that. I'm not going to let someone else in to my heart to reside in there, just for the sake of it. It has to be coz I matter."

(Sigh) "Logical. (I guess.)…

Introducing Roxanne.

Two days in a row now I've been posted up in the library. Rather monumental seeing as I don't come here for more than one day at a time, and most of the time it's to cool off on hot days when I (or my wallet) can't quite make it to Jamba on the other side of campus. And it's for obvious reasons I don't come here. Firstly, it's like walking in to a polar ice cap and secondly, it's a library, the defeaning sound of "study" makes me nauseous. Cold and Silence. I associate both with death. Plus I like my music loud, and it's a popular theory also that I'm just lazy. :)

So anyways, I'm here and I felt it worth a mention that I started to write my thesis yesterday. I'm three pages deep (only about 97 to go) and the bulk of the work remains in bullet point format under the heading "Step 1" but it's amazing affirmation to just be able to have a word document called "Thesis Dissertation V1" though I'm debating…


I'm in this weird brooding mood, and it's annoying because today was a fairly nomal day and nothing has really happened today which might explain why I'm feeling kind of... deep and annoyingly introspective about nothing. It could just be the combination of the 1000g dosage of painkillers I took this afternoon and the chocolate milkshake I had tonight making me woozy. Nevertheless, let me spiel.

Ok, so this will sound annoyingly like a forward or a first time poet's stab at the poetry slam but whatever, it's on my mind so let me just spit this out here so I can get some sleep.

Some inalienable truths about day to day life that I discovered today.

Family, even though you've know them your whole life, are just hard to figure out sometimes.

Friends, even though you haven't seen them in years, can get annoying if you spend your every minute with them.

Boys, even good ones that you think are different, can be just as stupid or socially inept as the ones that you a…

Tagi Vale. Ata So'o.

I found some fun articles by an Aussie writer, Justin Nelson who is in Samoa for SPG working as a commentator. He gets a little teary eyed when he writes about his experience in the games

The Emotional side of sport

... and he makes some interesting observations like how incessantly funny everything is to Samoans. I can say we either didn't get the joke and laugh anyway and we just find other people's misery hilarious, but here's the palagi take:

Laugh a little, it's only a game

I enjoyed these.

Poetry Slam

It's one thing to know a few kooky people here and there but to be in a room full of them can be pretty... intense. I just got home from a poetry slam after a friend of mine (who's pretty intense herself) asked me to come along. I have my own appreciation for writing so I found it to be pretty interesting. Some of it was a little bit too far outside my square but there were one or two that felt like it was torn right out of the pages of my life, written in my blood. *Whoah deep* lol. Funny how absolute strangers can articulate exactly some experience or thought you felt so unique and alone feeling or thinking. I guess in the big scheme of things, we're all more alike then we are different. Reminds me of a phrase I read this week for one of my classes (don't be impressed I read for class it's only the 3 weeks into school), anyways, the quote was: "Always remember, you are unique, just like everyone else."

So, while some of the poets/ performers tonight we…


So I've changed things around a bit in here, new colours, new names, purely because... I felt like it.

Schools started. I can't say I'm particularly thrilled about that, considering it's preventing me from being home for SPG, buuuut, despite a rocky and mildly hateful start to the semester, two weeks in, things are going pretty well. As in, my classes actually interest me, and my professors don't put me to sleep within the first ten minutes of class. It's more like half an hour now, but it's an improvement. And my schedule is ridiculously open. I have a class on Tuesday night and one on Wednesday afternoon which leaves me with a 6 day weekend which starts on Wednesday night and finishes on Tuesday afternoon. Sounds pretty good right. Well, two weeks in I've decided I can only sleep so much, and I really can't afford for my braincells to lay dormant for 85% of the week so, I'm looking for that yucky little thing called a job.

The revamp extends to …

Pic Picks

I want one

Apple iPhone.

I've been drinking


I like 'em

Trapeze Dresses.

I miss them

Siblings :(

I recently bought

Blue Suede Shoes.

I'm listening to


Real Women - Real Beauty

Real Women - Real Beauty in the eyes of a Tongan Teenager

29/05/2007 2:00:00 p.m.

Moana ‘Ulu’ave is the first Tongan to be selected as a winner of Oprah Winfrey’s National High School Essay Contest and is also a recipient of the Bill Gates Millennium Scholarship in the United States.

Her essay, Real Women – Real Beauty, attracted the attentions of many and won her a place at the Brigham Young University (BYU) in Provo, Utah, double majoring in English and Sociology.

Last week, Moana ‘Ulu’ave left the United States, the country in which she was raised, to return to Tonga, the country where her grand parents were born and raised. Returning to Tonga has provided Moana with many great opportunities.

“I am particularly happy to be able to visit the Island where my grandparents were raised and lived. Originally my grandparents are from Niuafo’ou. They told me that they were among those who were evacuated when a major eruption in Niuafo’ou took place in 1946. They said they settled in ‘Eua but or…

Airport blogging again.

Ok, so I almost missed my flight this morning. I thought (and told everyone) that my flight was leaving on Saturday night, only to check my e-ticket printout at 9am this morning, to realise that I was leaving at 11am. In an hour, I had thrown whatever I recognised as mine into my suitcases, no doubt I've left half my shit, said goodbye to my still sleeping hungover family, battled my untidy hair in the mad dash to the airport and was posted up at the empty departure desk, surely as the last to check in. I hope I remembered to brush my teeth. So I check in, grab a bottle of 42 Below (Faakaga le galo o le panty ae sa le galo le 42. Eio. Pugi) and rush over to the gate as they're calling Final Call for my flight. I'm finally seated at the gate, rummaging for my boarding pass and taking a minute to breathe and curse myself being SO like myself and forgetting half my crap - like those cute pink heart earrings I just bought in Wellington. Dammit. As I go through the mental list…