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Showing posts from October, 2007

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…

Checklist

Ideally.

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

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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 single.rich.

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 person.in 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!

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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.

UB40.

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!

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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"

"Really?"

"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.)…