What to expect when you're expecting

Pregnancy hormones make a negro cray, so here are some activities you might want to ease up on.

1. Voting in any elections of any significance. Because you will vote for the underdogs. Who will probably lose. Then you will lament and vent on social media for them.

2. Going shopping. Because when you get charged full price at the checkout instead of the sale price shown on the racks, best believe you're gonna make them pay. At the expense of your dignity and your husband and children's pride.

3. Watching TV shows like Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I usually shed a tear or two of joy at the end of such shows. But hormonal imbalances result in full waterworks requiring a whole box of tissues, and that aloe vera crap ain't cheap.

4. Listening to depressing songs. All of a sudden you can relate to every bloody person's heartaches and suffering. More crying ensues. More unnecessary expensive tissue usage. Sam Smith, get some help.

5. Exercising. Not only have your hormones loosened up your joints and crap, but your tummy will make you off-balanced and likely to look even more gumby than usual, and you realise you are forever doomed to be a flabby, wobbly whale. Which you aren't in reality, but somehow you'll convince yourself that's the truth. Cue more wailing and gnashing of teeth, followed by excessive consumption of chocolate and honey toast.

But it's a blessing right?

[Grit teeth] Right!

Wanted: Ruby Slippers

Must be in good, working condition, i.e. when I click my heels 3 times and repeat "There's no place like home", I'll end up back in Samoa.

It's time for the semi-regular homesick blog post, so tune out now if you're sick of it.

You know what really grates me? When some middle-class people from NZ visit another country where things don't run at the standard they expect and services may not be as good as they expect (or are just downright crap ... or non-existent even), then they return with "horror stories" about how awful it was. I turn double-Hulk especially when those people are Christians. (By the way, those "other countries" include but are not limited to Samoa).

I hate, hate, hate it when I see people so eager to pray for the lost, the less fortunate, the poor, etc and yet when dumped into a situation amidst those poor unfortunate people and all that is really reflected is self. I had a terrible time because the service was slow. I couldn't understand anything because no one spoke English. I didn't get what I want. I complained about their standards. I'm so glad I left. You had to pay to swim at the beach!

Pisses. Me. Off. Listen up, I've got a few things to say, and I'm gonna say it real nice:

If you voluntarily decide to buy a plane ticket and visit another country for recreational purposes, please do not expect everyone there to learn your language so they are able to understand you and cater to your every whim. If you really wanted to understand and be understood, learn their language. That country is their home, they have the right to speak whatever language they choose to.

You are no longer in your country. Whatever standard of service you receive here does not count for anything. Without having the full picture of the standard of living, cultural differences and economic situation (amongst other things) in that country or area, you don't really have a basis to determine what is an "acceptable" standard of service for what you are paying.

Have you ever considered that the unappetising food you received at the hospital, the long waits for whatever approval processes, the corrupt officials and the mosquitoes are what the locals are faced with. Every single day. Can you honestly tell me that your anger and complaints were for the "better good" so that the standards can be "raised", or were they really out of self-pity, or your expectation of what you think you deserve from life, or a misconception of what hardship can really mean? Did you take time out from drowning in your sorrows to bless someone? To put yourself in the shoes of those around you? Oh wait, they probably didn't have shoes. How unhygienic of them. Maybe that's why they couldn't run as fast to fetch the silver platter.

I miss home. Warts and all.

Forget you

It's Friday. The day when my patience gauge is way below empty...I'm sputtering along and getting ready to pull over. And all the imbeciles I could ever encounter through work come out to play.

I am so peed off right now, and so close to committing career suicide. ARGH!

Deep breaths...

Mantra of the day:
He's an idiot - it's what they do. He's an idiot - it's what they do. Oooooossa...

Last Friday's mantra was (as my FB status will testify): Don't be mean. Don't be mean. Don't be mean.

Ok, I think I'm ready to log back in now and kindly reply to the email:
"Dear [insert name of idiot]

Where is the bloody file I was sitting up and waiting for since midnight? My apologies for seeming impatient. I realise that you have only had the request for 20 minutes so what you have been doing, twiddling your thumbs since then but we urgently require the file for our reports.

I will await your response when the file is available but I won't hold my bloody breath

I know where you live
Regards,
Sina"

Argh...as CeeLo put it (after censorship) ... forget you!