Wednesday, October 04, 2006

feeling up my lumps

My apologies to myself for not updating my blog.

I was very busy getting trained for my new job, and this was mostly in Auckland.
I still continued to write my “Memoirs of a Coconut Geisha” but was too stingy to spend 5.00 on 1 hour wireless connection to update you my blog friend.

But before I cut and paste my previous thoughts, let this be a reminder that I got my right breast grabbed, pinched, poked, anesthized and sliced slightly open on the outside to get a sample of a lovely little lump this morning.

Yah, feeling up my lump lump.

I’ve had it for about 6 years but all the doctors ive seen kept saying its no problemo, but just to be sure my latest GP referred me to the BreastCare Centre.
Although it was a trivial minor thing, I drove home after work and limped to the house and frenchy’s like

“why didn’t you park in the garage?”

I dramatically responded “Coz I can’t do any lifting in my right arm and I therefore can’t open the garage door”, “my breast is sore, sob sob”

So I headed for the couch where I laid until dinner was ready and watched 3 programmes in a row,

Oh to be so blessed with a compassionate loving man who listens to my every frigging need and who lets me wearing my penguin pajamas before 6pm and lets me watch tv even when I don’t feel like it.

Okay, enuff blahrararing, heres what I wrote a week ago:

DISCLAIMER: The author takes no responsibility for your disappointment. Remember, my blog, my thoughts, your interpretation. End of story.(for now)

Stop thinking you know better

I say this of Samoans who live abroad, who speak so negatively of Samoa, who cuss freely about corruption and ‘backwardness’ and ignorance’, who always always have criticisms of how Samoa should be run.
You know who you are,


I say to you now,

Come and wear my torn underwear

Drink my bland CCK instant coffee

Swat the mosquitos from my sores

Queu at the Development Bank with me for my fifth loan this month

Share the ‘Made in Thailand’ mackerel and boiled bananas with me and my six kids tonight

Come and patch the hole on my roof,

And weed my taro patch,

Before you suggest I straighten up my act, embrace progress and avoid corruption.
Do the things above, and I will let you speak ill of my ways.
It is all very well to criticise while you sit on your judge’mental’ ass and bitch and moan but at the end of the day, you are not me, you are not here to share my reality with me.

Corruption is the reason more children can afford education during election year, villages eat well for a few precious months and when the humanity of a leader truly shines through.

Samoans abroad criticise this openly, bitching about corruption and ‘its who you know not what you know’.

The fact is, corruption is rife. I agree.

And another fact is, “Of course it is who you know, NOT what you know’
Why offer the job to a stranger when you could provide livelihood for your wife’s sister’s husband’s first cousin?

Look at the graduates who return to Samoa to work. They hit off with sparks and passion and great ideas but a few months down the track, they all fizzle out, clamp up and simply drown their sorrows in booze, pay their loans, drink some more and push paper till 3:30pm every week day.

Of course they know there is corruption, darling, all samoans can smell that deceit in the passing of Parliament Landcruisers on their way to officially cut the ribbon for the new toilet blocks on tv.

But like someone wrote “Do I dare go against the Universe?”
“Do I dare rock the canoe?”

To criticise is to get fired, to get fired is to have no livelihood; is to be hated is to be hopeless is to be depressed is to kill onself. Jody’s Law.
We all just bite the coconut bullet and move on.
Even when we see politicians prosper

Even when we see Misa and Liuga struggling to breath from overeating and corruption.
We all just swallow our pride and praise our beloved country.
Even Robert Louis learned his lesson in 1892, when he fought to eliminate a corrupt administration,
Look where that landed him,

Stiff dead on a mountain.
“Under the wide and starry skies
Dig thy grave and let me lie”

We tell people, We are a harmonious people, peaceful loving, hospitable.
No shet Sherlock, we have no other choice.

But back to the headlines of Samoan news today, Beauty Pageant.

You see what I mean, we are a habby joyful people, who choose to commit all news media and conversations to a ditzy beauty pageant while high schoolers are only learning to spell ‘monkey’ at age 16.

I worked at STA, I remember spending nights at the computer airbrushing blotchy pimply faces and calling girls to please dress nicely so I can attempt to take photos where their chins aren’t hanging and their big backsides aren’t exaggerated.

Seeing all this recent commotion makes me laugh and be grateful I left that role.
It is a thankless, long, stressful, demanding and hated position where your hard work is acknowledged as the boss’, and your screw ups are simply “yours” so shape up or fuck off. So it worried me a little because I can so imagine the poor STA girls getting all the hatred because if there is one thing that that CEO is NOT good at, it is taking responsibility for his screwed up actions.

They say that the shit starts from the top of the mountain (okay, I just butchered the traditional saying: E afua mai mauga le manuia o se nuu).

Basically, the shit at STA is because there is an unqualified clueless HRPPsucking CEO at the sinking helm, a bragging egotesticle Minister perched at the top of sails (to be visible of korse), and the rest are simply people struggling to do their job under a regime of media loving, blameless leaders.
But as I said at the beginning, “We are very happy happy joy joy people from the sea and the smiling beople of the sun who teach the world humanity and hospitality and in God we trust”. Always in God we trust. Because he is the only one who doesn’t disagree.

He just sits and listens very quietly. I love my preedifool country and I love you all my sinful savage blogging children of the blogging universe.