Mouse dung

I am a bawling mess. These out-of-control hormones are causing me to cry at just about anything and at just about any time.

I'm already what you would call a "sensitive" person, so I have always been a crier. But this is a whole new level of crying.

I cry when watching TV ads.

I cry when I think of my 4 year old (like who does that??)

I cry when watching cheesy romance movies that I would usually laugh at.

I cried when reading this: http://thepowerofprayer.tumblr.com/post/40525128644/powerofprayer

I'm pretty sure I cried while watching the final episode of My Kitchen Rules.


Sigh. I fear that if any Damien Rice songs play on the radio while I'm driving, I might just be inconsolable and possibly crash the car.

I am reminded of a lady back in my wop wop village who cried at pretty much everything.Someone once commented, "Koe o le ki'o a le isumu e le'i kagi ai."

[Loose translation: "The only thing she hasn't cried about is a mouse taking a crap."]

I think that's where I'm at now. Just gotta find a crapping mouse to prove my suspicion.

Rebirth (of sorts)

Hello tumbleweed! I felt the sudden urge to blog today, then the urge to make a new start by creating a new blog to reflect the new person that I am today. The "urges" left me drained, so never mind the new blog. I won't even promise to reformat this one. If I have learnt anything during my absence from the blogosphere, it would be: underpromise and overdeliver. Not the profound insightful lesson you were perhaps expecting, right? I'm too old and too tired for insight.

So why the return to the blog world, I know this question is keeping you awake at night. Well, where else do I get to rant and rave and carry on like a lunatic, but here in my diary blog. And these days I have much to rant about, the main cause being the alien that has invaded my tummy (hip hip hooray).

Disclaimer
I just want to put out a warning: I am the most pessimistic alien carrier you will ever come across. If my mad rants will in any way affect your desire to one day carry an / another alien, then the next phase of posts is not for you. I completely blame the hormones and, of course, my dear husband.

To the next phase! *clink clink* Oh wait, nope, can't do that either. ARGH!!!

Camping (alternative title: "Ew")

Summer has arrived in the land of the long white cloud. All around the country, people in the urban centres are packing up their trailers, utes and minivans and making for the countryside (yay!) to camp (say what?).

Camping. Sleeping on the ground. No running water or electricity. Meals cooked over a fire or small gas stove. The call of nature answered ... where exactly?

I know so many who enjoy camping, being in the outdoors, disconnecting from the hustle and bustle of modern living. But I myself am not so keen. Which confuses people sometimes. Aren't you from the islands where you may have had to live like this? That's precisely it, Einstein. When you have had to "camp" out of necessity and not for the fun of it, the word holds a completely different connotation.

The recent cyclone hit in Samoa took me back to the days of Cyclones Ofa and Val that hit Samoa when I was a child. I remember several neighbouring families taking shelter at our house as theirs were destroyed. I remember sharing bedding, clothing and pretty much all else we had with the neighbours. When meals were cooked in a huge pot over a fire surrounded by a crudely built "wall" to keep the cyclone winds out. When "entertainment" was singing and story telling and playing cards in the dim light of the moli matagi. The frequency of showers were directly proportional to the number of times it rained. And when the cyclone left, life continued that way as the neighbours worked on rebuilding their houses, and as the power and water people worked on restoring the infrastructure.

I definitely don't regret having experiencing such times, and I think I am a better person for it. One day, when the zombie apocalypse hits (or I move back to Samoa...whichever happens first), I may have to live like that again. And that is perfectly fine with me. But until then, until I actually have to, I will not stay in a tent, pee in the bush or go where my mobile phone doesn't have more than two bars.

Stay safe out there, campers :)

Get up

I think I've been living in New Zealand too long.

Today on the bus, an elderly man got on and it was already quite crowded. I sat there in my chair and watched him walk past me looking for a seat. It wasn't until he'd passed me that I realised I was still sitting in a seat. Not a big deal for some people, but for me growing up in the wop wops of Samoa, it's a big freakin deal. If someone older than you gets on the bus and there are no available seats in front of you, you get up and you move towards the back. Regardless of whether there is a seat elsewhere for you, regardless of how much older the other passenger is, you get up. It's a sign of respect and humility.

But today I didn't. Never mind that it probably meant nothing to everyone else on the bus, never mind that the man found a seat in the end, it felt absolutely horrible. No exaggeration. Teariness ensued. Possibly because I realised that I may have lost some of the things that I value and consider an integral part of who I am. The little things that seem so insignificant. Imma get them back.

Note to self: Tomorrow on the bus...GET UP!

It don't matter if you're black or white

Today at the supermarket, I was drooling over the chocolates that were not on my diet list, when the cutest little preschool-aged boy tugged on my dress and said "Mummeee, I want some this" pointing to some lollies.

Poor kid must not only have been lost, but he might have lost his colour sight. He was a blondie blue-eyed palagi. And I am ... well ... not.

Happy ending: his parents were nearby...cracking up at his mistake from the fruit section. Sounds about right though: fob in the chocolate aisle, palagi parents in the fruit and vege aisle. I don't know how on earth this kid mistook me for his mother.

Til we meet

I came across this post today, and blog hopping activities were halted while I had a little cry, which surprised me since it's been over a year now.

http://familylifeinfife.blogspot.co.nz/2012/09/saying-goodbye.html

Til we meet, little wing who flew away too soon.

Weekending

Word on the street is you can't beat Wellington on a good day. Make that a couple of good days, and it becomes a sweet weekend.

Time For Dancing, a little wander around Cuba Mall, indulging in the best sushi and best pizza in town, Butler's Chocolate Cafe dessert, a 40th birthday at the pub, and a cowboy themed 4th birthday. As Taylor Swift says, "Like, it's exhausting!" And we didn't even make it to the Botanic Gardens to see the blooming tulips. Oh the stresses of life.



Dancing comes first

Cuba mall stroll

Some window displays for World of Wearable arts (WOW) awards on this weekend

Mouth full of chocolatey goodness @ Butler's Chocolate cafe

Now come the photos from the 4th birthday party. These parents put a lot of thought and attention to detail to getting the cowboy theme of the party through! Makes my efforts look pitiful. And these are only the photos of the food. They made a tee pee from scratch, and had the place decorated up as well. A+ for effort. We're definitely keeping this friend. Lol!

Home made tee-pee cake

"Eagle Wings" and "Gold Nuggets"

Look at that! So cute, right?

More food!

Thanks for visiting :)