Damn them all!!!!

Damn Argentina. Damn them for losing. Damn Germany for beating them. They'll get their just rewards later when they meet my other favourite - Brazil. No one messes with my South American teams. Damn FIFA for putting on this nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing, tension-filled and totally enjoyable (especially if your team is winning) competition. Damn the German fans who laughed in my face today. Damn everyone who looked askance when they heard I was supporting Argentina.
Damn them all!!!

Viva Soca Warriors

I've been meaning to blog about the world cup for some time now but what with being consumed with the game, keeping scores, having heated discussions and all that, just couldn't find the time. I have read all these different articles in the newspapers written by men warning their women, wives, girlfriends, daughters etc, not to interfere/interrrupt/bother them while the world cup is on and that could have been me writing. I would happily sit down all day just watcing the three matches but alas I have to work. At the start of the competition, I rushed out and bought a small tv to put in my office so I didn't have to miss anything. I could watch each match from the privacy of my office while doing work at the same time (or rather appear to be). Sadly that hasn't happened. The tv sits on top of my filing cabinet mute. The reception is so bad that it's pointless watching it. So whenever there is an absolutely can't-miss match (eg. soca-warriors, brazil etc) I pop downstairs.

I just read basschocolate's post on the world cup Land of the 'Badmind'
where he noted that he was pissed that people in his office seem to be happy that Trinidad is out and that is so sad.

I was just talking to someone about the Soca Warriors and telling them that if I was a born Trini, I couldn't be any prouder. I feel so very emotional everytime the soca warriors clad in their red, black and white took to the field. I had tears in my eyes, lump in my throat and throughout all their matches I was a mass of nerves.

Whenever they were playing, I was no longer Jamaican, I was a caribbean national, pleased as punch and proud to boot of the team. They were representing the caribbean at the highest level of football and representing us damn well.

So while I can understand wistfully wishing that the reggae boyz were there, I can't understand anyone from the Caribbean not wishing the Trini team to go as far as possible within the World Cup. I do understand too, there will be comparison to see if the Trinis were going to do better than the Jamaicans did in '98.

Talk about caribbean unity..

Blogging ....A healthy past-time?

You know, blogging is really just another take on the reality tv craze. We sit down in front of the tv for hours watching people we don't know embarass themselves. We sit for hours reading about the lives of people we don't know and will never meet. It's a world filled with voyeurs (too lazy to check spelling). That sick craving to know what's going on in other people's lives.

You know what too? I love it!!

On a serious note though, some of the blogs I've read are so interesting, really provide food for thought as well as providing another perspective on thing, so I guess it does serve some purpose apart from pandering to the inquisitive. Reading other people's blog also make you realize that we all have the same concerns, go through the same things some time or the other, have the same uncertainty about life even though we live in different countries.

The world changes and Sex sells the paper

Isn't it amazing how the world has turned completely around? Things that use to be abnormal is now par for the course. Example, there was a time when talking about sex in polite company was no-no (or was it that polite company didn't speak about sex?). Now, everyone's sex life is an open book. It's no longer a taboo subject and DJ's/rappers' favourite topic is their sexual prowess (even in cases where I'm sure it's proven that there is no prowess at all;)

Same thing for the way we dress. There was a time when women use to wear knickers as swim suits and was swathed in layers of clothes. The poor newly wed male would normally have a challenging time getting access to the goodies. Well, to be honest as a person who borders on being a nudist I'm happy about that change. I'm totally at peace swimming nude in Negril.

Now here's another example of how things change. I go sailing a couple Sundays each month with a friend who owns a boat/yatch. It's usually a small group comprising about 5 or 6 persons. There's usually one or two of his Jamaican white friends. Now Sunday last, I was so amused. Normally, we'd leave Lime Cay about 2pm in order to have enough wind to sail back home but this time we left quite late. After a few minutes of sailing we got stranded when the wind totally died (I'm not really a boater, I think that is referred to as 'becalmed'). The boat/yatch comes with an engine but there was some work being done on it. Anyway, no one seemed too worried (As a non-swimmer I was secretly alarmed but refused to let on that I was), we had rum & cigarettes for those who indulged and food, so we settled down to wait for someone to come along to give us a tow. Sure enough, there was a boat/yatch coming our way. Our host started joking with one of the 'Jamaican whites' on board telling her she's to ask for a tow since it was her kinda of people coming. Another of the 'whiteys' (no-offence meant here) joined in and was also encouraging her to ask since it was her type of people. Of course, a good-natured argument ensued between the two, as to who had more black running through their blood. Female in question (who looks quite caucasion) claiming her right to 'blackness' by saying that she's a browning and not white and pointing to the other person's green eyes saying that if a check was done, it would be proven that he's whiter than her.

Lol. Now all the the above was in jest of course and while we all laughed, I really couldn't help thinking that my ancestors would have been shocked to hear these near-whites/Jamaican-whites/whatever they are falling over themselves to claim a little melanin in their skin. Amazing isn't it?

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Want proof that sensationalism sells the newspaper? Picture me, driving home one lunch time this week (I was sitting in my office all morning thinking of the ackee and banana meal I prepared myself before work, and just had to go home and get some more of it even though I work all the way downtown :)

I'm at the stop-light, salivating at the thought of the treat that I'd have in the next few minutes, wondering why the hell there were so many vehicles on the road (were they all going home to eat too?). Anyway, my eyes wandered to the Star lady by the side of the road and latched on to this headline WIGNALL'S WILD WORLD. Wild??? I wondered about this as images of sex and other lascivious activities flitted across my mind. Why on earth would Mark Wignall one of the columnists that I must read every Sunday be involved in that? Now, I don't normally buy the Star, sticking instead of Observer and Gleaner. However, you should see me frantically rummaging through my bag with one hand, while waving the lady over with the other, all the while watching the light. It was a race against time. Finally, the elusive $20 coin turned up and I was able to make the exchange and satisfy my curiousity.

Then I had to do some acrobatics with my eyes and hands. So it was one hand steering, one eye watching the road, the other hand turning the page, the other eye reading. All that just to read about Mark Wignall's passenger (and I think partner) stripping to her skivvies to prevent the police from dragging away his uninsured, unlicenced, unfit vehicle. Not that it worked, as the police towed the woman semi-nekkid to the police station where a police woman coaxed her into putting on back her clothes.

Moral of the story - Sensational Headline Sells!!! (as if y'all didn't know).

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Now here's proof that I need a man in my life and need to get that situation dealt with immediately.

I've been up from 2:00am updating my blog.

Who the hell does that??????

Ok, it's 3:46am, and I'm going back to bed.

Presumptious Pussy

Yesterday morning I woke up to the sounds of insistent meowing. Somehow all the stray cats in surrounding my apartment complex designated my area the 'horny zone' so I'm really accustomed to the occasional caterwauling, as they get ready to get their groove on. I noticed however, that the meowing was quite extended and seemed even closer than normal. These damn cats could never be brazen enough to come and have sex on my balcony I thought irately. Well, they had apparently passed that stage. Having designated my little area the horny/get it on zone, they apparently thought that my weed/bush garden was the ideal place to start a family. Nestled comfortably beside their mother were about 3 kittens. I thought briefly about evicting the presumptious pussy from her chosen labour ward but after seeing the unflinching glare that I was subjected to, decided to leave her alone. Plus apart from being a coward (the protective instinct of animals for their young is well documented), I don't think I would have had the heart to do so.

Getting Older and Way Too Much Info (WTMI)

Ok, I don't mind getting old. But can I retain the svelte figure that I had in my 20's? So, I don't mind a little bumper, everyone's been saying that it looks nice on me anyway, but can I not have a belly to match? As a matter of fact, friends who are accustomed to me having a near (I would say) wash-board tummy are now asking if I'm pregnant and if I didn't know for sure that there will never be a second immaculate conception, I would have wondered myself. I feel like my body has betrayed me. I no longer wear a bikini to the beach, opting instead for a tankini (you know the swimsuit with the long top to hide the bellies). I am not necessarily convinced at this moment that the song "Gal tuck een yu belly" refers to me (unless I think he's being prophetic) but I'm certainly sprinting to that point. My clothes don't fit that well anymore and of necessity, I now prefer longer tops.

Also, do you 30 y-o notice that when you laugh the laugh lines no longer disappear, choosing instead to linger in your face a bit.

Oh this takes the cake. You're talking to someone, just started a sentence and ....... nothing! You don't remember where the sentence was leading to or what you wanted to say? Do I hear AMEN from the 30plus community. Embarrassing.

Not to mention those tell-tale signs of varicose veins that have brought my shorts, mini-wearing days to a premature, abrupt end.

Well listen, I don't care what anyone else says about getting old gracefully, I hate it. I want to retain the knowledge that the years bring AND keep the body. Why can't I have it all?

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Do y'all notice that people now use "how are you/how yu doing" as a replacement for "Hello." Or is it just me? So someone approaches me and says "How are you" and before I can open my mouth to tell him how I am, he/she is long gone? Why not just stick to Hello if you're really not interested.

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Ok, I know we live in this wonderfully liberated world where no topic is out-of-bounds. And that's fine. Well not really. Call me an old fuddy-duddy. Whatever! I think certain things just need to be kept to oneself. I hear people talking at times and think WTMI (Way Too Much Information). Example, in the cafeteria line at work and heard a female telling a man that she was so hungry the previous day that her period started early. Huh? Is that possible though? well, that's not the point. Now this was in response to a comment about how long the lunch line was. Does everyone in the line need to be privy to her mentrual cycle.

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