My Year of Meaningful (2011)

This week we have Wednesday and Thursday off (what kind of jacked-up combination of holiday days is that?  Why bother?  Why not Thurs/Fri, DUH) so really it's not like a real week at all.  And of course this whole town will be worthless on Friday due to everyone and their brother's dog taking it off in order to have a 5-day vacation.  But not us!  No siree!  No 5-day holiday for us illegal alien harbourers!

HOWEVER before I get all poopy about not going anywhere, I will say there is the potential for great relaxation and restoration to be done at home (and I aint talking about sanding and varnishing any furniture!) during a quiet week such as this.  I only resent the fact that there is nothing cool to do in this town over those couple of days.  CERTAIN PEOPLE in my life, who live in other more happnin' cities in other countries, have been laying it on thick lately with all their fancy-pants outings to live music and tasty BBQ festivals and trips to the beach, etc etc etc....   well hey meanwhile we went out for Chinese on Saturday night and gave a good home to a nice bottle of Red.... that's about the extent of it in these parts, anymore.  Trouble is, I can't even blame it on the JooJoo Lady, because I'll be derned if she doesn't love going out too!  Her favourite thing in the world these days is going to the Hash every sunday and making the round of laps and cuddles from all the hashers.  She especially likes it when there's a braai after the run.  This weekend she tried out her new pair of cool-ass shades that auntie Petra sent from NL.  She got lots of attention in those babies, all of which she ate up like the Aries that she is. 

I guess it has come to the point where I will use these days off to sleep and exercise and pick the banjo. I don't even really want to study because then it won't even be any different at all to simply working from home 2 days in a row.  Lame.  I really wonder how many years of cow-town BW that I have left in me.  We were talking about the Memphis in May festival on saturday night, and even the Mr. thinks it is a sin that we can't be soaking that live music sh!t up in our prime years (the 30s are prime, right?) when it's out there on offer. I nearly had him committing to flying back for it in May, believe it or not.  I just put on some Taj Mahal and said "picture yourself listening to this with the Mississippi River flowing beside you and a giant pulled pork sandwich in your left hand and a Sam Adams in your right..."  and I almost had plane tickets.  Then a goat or a donkey probably ran out in front of us and ejected the dream.  I dont remember.  DOH!

I gave the Mr. the Tom Petty documentary by Peter Bogdanovich (4 hours long!) for his bday.  I'm certain he suspected it was one of those "gift for you/gift for me" fine lines, but I literally selected that because he has shown so much interest in "The Last Waltz" and in TP recently, so why the hell not?  It is a Grammy award winner fer petes sake.  So anyway, I hope he decides to watch it this week because I am excited about it even if he is acting luke-warm about it.

What's that?  Could it be?
The sound of JUSTICE?

~sigh~

huge weight off of our shoulders this week.
Harbouring the passportless alien is not just a pain because we are being held hostage in BW, but we also can't get her health insurance, register her for residency here, all sorts of stuff you wouldn't think of.  Being identity-less sucks.

But even worse than that was the actual paperwork that hangs in the balance because of the CRAP going on over there in NAM, at one of these government departments that's job is to register adoptions and push the paperwork through so that new birth certificates can be issued (knock on effect: passports can be applied for).  Apparently (and this is going to sound too ridiculous to be true, but it is) SOMEONE in one of these departments has a beef with our social worker, so was LITERALLY holding all paperwork associated with adoptions done by her, HOSTAGE.  No kidding.  Hostage.  Going on strike.  With OUR paperwork in her hand.  Unreal.  Kids in the same situation as The Joo, just being punished because some catty woman has a beef with another woman.  The worst part?  There were a few days during this run where we were literally fearing for our lives.  Things got so psycho with this nutjob that she was threatening to take the babies away. I am not kidding.  She decided she was PERSONALLY going to overturn all the adoptions.  Take all the babies away.  Drag people through court.  Etc etc etc. Anyone who can imagine what that feels like, I would like to personally buy a good stiff double Bombay gimlet because they're probably shaking like a leaf right now at the thought of that.

Well, let me just say, never mess with a North American, because "Almost Joo"'s new mom (whom I've written about before - The Joo's first babysitter when we were still over there) dragged her ass to court over this whole hostage-taking affair (it was obviously completely illegal and against Magistrate-ordered instructions)... and fair enough, she didn't just live next door and could go home to wait for the red-tape-mobile to run out, like us.  Anyway, she won with flying colours.  And NOW this cow has been ordered by the (very angry) judge to push every single piece of paper through the wringer within 24 hours.  That includes us!  YIPPEE!

Just because I'm paranoid like that, I'll just say "more info available if you google" the following
The Namibian, Judge slams o-fishal  (but spell that word right).

All I know now though is that tonight we will breathe freely, drink champagne, and start planning our first trip over the border.  And not just because it's the Mr.'s birthday.  Wow. This has been the hardest couple weeks of my life.  Wow.

Labels: Namibia

Having a wee party today here, 1/2 Mr's b-day party, 1/2 "introducing the baby" party.

That means I'm too busy preparing food and drinks and cleaning up to be internetting right now.

But for some reason I am compelled to watch the rugby and play on the internet instead. Hmmm.

I'm making my famous Memphis-style pulled pork sangwidges with coleslaw, and potato salad, and a flourless chocolate cake that I've never tried before, for SC who is the glutenfree gal.  I know they say you shouldnt try things out on your guests, but hey I havent had a lot of time to organize this stuff.  How it works is that I whip out the ol' electric iPhone, go to my recipe-finder app., and search "gluten free".  Then it gives me a list and I pick the thing that takes the least amount of preparation time.  And voila!  We are having chickpea chocolate cake.  Wish me luck.

I hope it all goes well - we haven't had a big party in this house yet, I think the max we've had here at once was like 6...  so I'm not really sure how the bodies will flow and what space people will be moving to... back stoep?  Living room with all doors open?  Front?  The big flat rock?  Pool area?  All of the above?
It will be an experiment.  I am curious.

Crap, monkeys in the compost pile... I gotta go.

...is a frickin nightmare!  I've got so much damn music!  All these mp3s that need organizing!  Hell I have a 16G iPhone and it still won't fit everything - so I have bits and pieces on the iPhone, I have bits in my iTunes, I have a bunch on the computer, some on CD, everywhere... it's everywhere!  And I am so NOT a clutter-hound, I like my stuff organized.  So this is just weighing on my conscience that I have stuff all scattered about, some of which I haven't even listened to.
Just another thing to add to the bloody list.   grrrrrrr.

I miss my friends again. Am just thinking all the time about Adelly's impending singlehood and how many cool things she's going to be going out and about and doing... all the live music, all the dinners and arts & cinema events, etc etc.  I tell you what it's darn near enough for me to want to move to Houston.  And then there's everyone in DC... again, enough with the Restaurant Weeks and Cinemas on the Greens and rooftop parties already!  you're killin me, kids, you're killin me!  Can't everyone just stop having fun until I get some?!?!  Sometimes I still think of living in DC one day, but am still completely clueless as to what I could actually DO as a JOB there... and the amount of money I would have to make in order to have the lifestyle we have become accustomed to is just mind boggling.  not sure how that one would pan out.

Yesterday I came home from my very long, very hot, very sandy, very exhausting weekly trip up to the Dust Bowl of BW, stripped down, jumped in the pool, and thought about how nice it would be, if this time next year Adelly and Brandon would be here and we would be sipping pina coladas (ok that might be an overshot, let's say boxed wine, or hell, a nice Bombay martini - I can make those) on my big flat rock out in front of our house, watching the sunset and planning to do the same thing again tomorrow.  Ahhhhh, other people's vacations... how enjoyable they are for me! 

I was talking to T & A on the phone the other day and again reminded of how BAD i want to go to their wedding in Aus... again, another rendezvous with great friends and some TIME OFF for me and the Mr., which would soooooooooo do me good... but alas we're still passportless over here on the Joo front.  GAG! Not to mention the surprise party for M. that I really want to go to in Joburg in October - hell I just need to get to SA soon, that would be enough for me.  Some civilization, some good food, some friends... ahhh

It is ALMOST the Mr.'s birthday!

OK bad segue, but.... I am back in the throes of studying.  I have committed to myself that this semester I will not let everything pile up into one big cluster f%$@ that kills me at the end of November.  So I am off and running again with the wake-up-1-hr-early strategy.  AND I need to come up with a thesis topic. Haven't got a clue on that one yet.

On the Animal Peeps front, I just can NOT get motivated to write articles and to update the website. It's also weighing on my conscience.  I hate having that kind of guilt.  The kind of guilt where you know you should be doin something and you know that something is actually not rocket science nor is it terribly time consuming or painful, but you still just can't bring yourself to kick it off.  That's like the "you're pathetic" type of guilt.  Not the "you've royally f'ed up" type or the "can't sleep at night" type, but more like this nagging, "you're lazy and lame and just get it over already" type.   What is my problem!? I am so dilligent about everything else... this is my last year on the committee, so I only have to get through 5 more months or so... come ONnnnnnn!

One thing is for certain, I have definitely learned to stop taking too much on.  Damn, I mean one needs some time to stop and smell the roses for pete's sake!  I gotta have time to strum the banjo and sit on that big flat rock and drink sundowners.  My yoga teacher is pressuring me to do Teacher Training (which by the by would include me taking a MONTH of my time down in the Cape... as if!) because SHE's pissing off and there's no one else in town who can fill her shoes... I nearly caught myself agreeing to consider it, the other night after class.... why?  Because I CANT SAY NO!  Which, ironically, is exactly what I give my dear husband a lecture about nearly every other day.  Hello pot, it's me, kettle.  But then as I drove home the first sentence of this paragraph came to my mind (probably as I was just getting ready to give the Mr. a lecture about it!) and I think I can get up the balls to firmly, yet politely, decline... the next time the subject comes up.  The difference is that The Mr's weakness is all work-related, and mine is all personal-life related.  The geriatric string quartet is probably going to call me up next month when Violinist gets back, and guess what I'm gonna say "YES!"  Of course I am!  Because I CANT SAY NO!  ughhhhh.  Can someone just sign me up for a class in how to say "no"?..... I'm sure I could squeeze it in somewhere.... oh wait....

Frickin Kanye.  What a jackass.  And Serena.  Both of them.  Idiots.

OH but you know what I'm looking forward to... a few weeks from now.... which involves neither international travel nor saying YES to inflating my already annoyingly full schedule.... the annual Greek Night right here in G-city!  We have missed it 2 years in a row now because we were gone.  FINALLY, it's at a good time, AND 2 of our new friends from the Hash are actual Greeks so we will go with them & sit at a big fun table with other Hashers. Plus there's free babysitting at the venue.  Awesome.  Tzaziki, Bouzouki, and plate-breaking.  Now that's my kinda event.   OK sure you shouldn't have to pay 400 bucks to break plates and eat garlic, but hey I love Greece and need to be with my people! 

In the meantime we bought a yuppyland 1-BR condo on the Plaza in KCMO and I have to say I envy my future renters because this place is fantastic.  I also have to thank SheofDC for letting us borrow her bank account (since my pathetic hometown bank will not do int'l transfers!!) to run the money through.  But other than that little glitch, it all went down smooth as silk and I highly recommend buying property in cash because boy howdy if that doesn't help you drive a good bargain in these times of financial turmoil and property owners needing the cold hard green stuff.  Compared to our place in Ireland (mortgage, etc), this thing went off like butter.   One of my brother's friends may rent it straight away and if so, then hey, it was no sweat off my back from start to finish.  Touch wood.

That's all for now.

Labels: animal peeps, mis amigos, music

The same thing keeps happening!  What is the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing and each time expecting a different result or something like that???  Now that I'm working from home every other day, it seems I get the days when Emelda is here cleaning.  And every morning I put coffee in the coffee pot to brew and lo and behold every time, it's finished and calling me JUST as she's starting to mop the kitchen floor!!  AGH!  Torturous!  I have to wait for up to 20 minutes before I can go in and collect the perky goodness.  That is just about the worst.

Well what's also the worst is this blasted weekend, which, the majority of was centred around this *%&$ wedding (well it wasn't even a wedding, it was a RECEPTION, but the couple has been referring to it as a "wedding" for the past 8 months or whatever - even sending out "wedding invitations" etc etc.  I'm sorry, but if you want to call it a wedding, there HAS to be a ceremony.  Some dude or gal has got to get up and say the words "I now pronounce you husband and wife" or at least "you may kiss the bride", etc.  This, God help me, was nothing more than speeches and a dinner and dancing.  Is that a reception or a wedding?  I thought so.  Not to mention that they went to the church and did the church thing earlier in the week.  Now THAT would've been the wedding.  Oh and dont forget the "traditional wedding" that happened last month. The one where cattle and suits and blankets and MONEY were exchanged for Jr.'s right to marry Mma Finance.)

OK so first we had to wake up early ON SATURDAY (sin!)  b/c A.) the Mr. had to work (poor thing - uber pressure on his projects at work these days) and B.) I had to go buy a present and some wedding-outfit accessories and the like, wrapping paper, a card, etc etc etc.    Then it was all rush, rush, rush, to get home, get dressed, wrap pressie, eat SOMETHING (thank GOD we did, after what later would ensue), bundle up Miss Baby JuJu Fartypants, and whisk her off to the Animal Peeps Shelter where we would meet Soo (who was babysitting for the night), do the baby-drop, and then drive alllllllllllll the way to as far away as one can geographically get (from the shelter), where the "NOT a WEDDING" was happening.  The invitation said "4pm".  We were there at 4pm.  No one else was.  So we went to the restaurant and had 2 glasses of wine. By the time Leto&TT got there (again thank God they at least came) it was 5.  We got on one of the open-air safari vehicles and were driven through the dust and wind to what was called on the invitation "the picnic place for finger foods and snacks".  OK.  So where were the "finger foods" and "snacks"?  Yes, there were potato chips.  And peanuts.  And some bottles of water.  And no bride, and no groom.  Luckily there was Simon & his gal.  So the 6 of us sat and sort-of ate chippies and talked about all the things we could POSSIBLY talk about, while all the other lost-looking guests sat around and did the same, and watched some hippos and crocs in the lake.

NEARLY 2 HOURS LATER.... AND WELL PAST SUNSET....we started getting shuttled up to the main venue which was on top of a mountain in an open-air conference centre.  Where the "NOT a WEDDING SO STOP CALLING IT THAT" was being held.  In the windy season.  Sooooo as luck would happen, Simon & his gal get seperated for us because we were not on the first shuttle to arrive, and all the large-number-of-seats-together had been taken at the tables.  LUCKILY, L&T and The Mr. & I found the last batch of 4-together (at a table with a bunch of old biddies & 1 grumpy old man, all of whom didn't speak to us throughout the whole night, and fair enough, how could they... we were sitting at the table RIGHT UNDER THE ONLY SPEAKERS IN THE WHOLE PLACE which were turned up to "Insanely Hazardous" because they had to reach everyone in the whole place's ear-holes!)

9pm passes - still no couple (did I mention that the invitation said "4pm"?).  No drinks, either, b/c it's a dry wedding NOT a WEDDING.  Biddy No. 1 next to The Mr. is cleaning out her ears with a q-tip that she conveniently brought along.  Well, you gotta do SOMETHING!  9:30pm - the couple finally arrives. Everybody goes apeshit because they do a little dance (which I know they've been rehersing religiously for the last 4 weeks because Jr. has had to leave the office every evening at 4:59 in order to make it to Mma Finance & her Bridesmaids' instructional classes), whilst coming into the conf. centre.  Everyone at our table misses out on witnessing said dance  b/c everybody else bumrushes the scene and forms a human wall past which no one else can see.

After the dance-in, the couple takes their seats and the speeches start.  All in Setswana, of course, so again NOT ENTERTAINING for those of us who catch about every 5th word.  Sweet old L. translated bits and pieces for us, but again, TOO FRICKIN LOUD to really hear anyone at your table.  There was a prophet who prophesied over them.  There was a "poet" who channeled the voice of god and prophesied over them again (this is not an exaggeration), there was a preacher who screamed into the mic and burst all our ear drums, then there was the bridesmaid and the groomsman and Jr. and Mma Finance, who at least did their speeches in English.   Then some Auntie or whoever it was got up and screamed in Setswana some more, and according to Leto, this is where she was giving instructions on how the tables were to be served food.  (Number by number, go figure.  Help yourself-type serving line).  It was round about this time (the time when all the old ladies at our table were fast asleep in their chairs) when I SHIT YOU NOT, a minimum of 45 new people came strolling into the function.  These people were obviously gate crashing because the Mother-of-the-bride's eyes got super big and people started rushing around like crazy - screaming at young people to give their chairs to old people, and delegating people to sit on the stone wall, the ground, the band's chairs, etc.

I happen to know some behind-the-scenes info here, whereby Jr. told me that because the Mother-of-the-bride's family had agreed to fit the 60,000-buck-bill for this NOT a WEDDING, they told him that he could give out 50 invitations, and they would give out 150.  Well, in the setswana culture, this is just a giant snub to the family of Jr., and apparently he had some uncles and cousins that were NOT cool with this whole arrangement.  Not that I ever found out who they were (Jr. has the next week off work), but I'm betting they were his disgruntled people.  At any rate, every single table was taken up and every chair filled by this time, not to mention the caterer who had always been under instructions to cook for 200.  Looks like there's gonna be trouble...

So, you can imagine what happened when we finally (an hour later - 10:15 pm... the time we had told Soo would be the LATEST that we could POSSIBLY be expected to be at her place to fetch the Joo) got into the serving line. Where the bridesmaids were on dishing-up duty.  Instead of  "goat pieces", you got "goat piece".  Instead of "vegetables" you got "vegetable" (I literally got one cube of pumpkin... it looked so lonely there on my giant white plate...)  instead of "lasagne", we got "la sag".  The funniest part was when I got to the girl serving from the goat dish... she said "goat?" and I said "sure".  She looked disappointed.  She served me a begrudging 1/2 spoonfull of what was in the big silver serving dish in front of her.  It was sauce.  I poked at it and said "can I have some goat"?  and she looked up at me with that "DOH!  BUSTED!" look on her face.  Dumbass ho had the nerve to think that dumbass whitey wouldn't notice that GOAT STEW IS SUPPOSED TO HAVE GOAT MEAT IN IT!  I laughed.  I wasn't mad, I thought it was creative.  She then put a tiny little bone on my plate.  I gave her another look and she begrudingly then put a tiny piece of meat the size of my pinky toe into the mix.  You gotta admire a girl who takes her instructions that seriously (it was clear to everyone by now, that the said "instructions" had come flying down the buffet line by the Mother-of-the-bride, as soon as the gate-crashers arrived:  "only half-portions for everybody!  We're in 'Loaves and Fishes Mode', here, people!!!  Half-portions only!!!")  What was really hilarious was seeing the girl at the dessert table who was literally cutting a variety of things like cupcakes, trifle, cake pieces, and custard tart pieces into 1/2.  And then when you saw everyone's eyes light up at the sight of all that variety of potential desserts, you heard her burst out a very curt: "there is only one option!!!", Soup-Nazi-style.

OK So I'm not proud of it, but we wolfed down the burnt-tasting (well it HAD probably been on the warmer for up to 4 hours) half-foods and blew the hell out of there.  I know eating and running is very poor taste, but it was now 11pm and Soo is 9 months preggers and probably dying of exhaustion, waiting up for us to come pick up the Joolington.  Also you had to GRAB one of the shuttles that would take you back up to the entrance gate (2-3kms away through the bush), because there was a MASS RUSH by other disgruntled, tired, old people who just wanted to go HOME.  We found Simon and agreed he would keep an eye out and a foot in the queue, and jump on and save us 2 seats.  We left poor TT&L in our wake and found out the next day they only escaped 2 hours later.  I felt horrible about this, because out of all of us, it was TT who was the most freezing cold. I'm telling you, after the sun goes down in this country, it doesnt matter if it's winter or spring. . . . if you're on top of an un-protected mountain top, in a strapless dress, in the windy season... you're gonna freeze your tatas off!!!  But in chivalrous Titanic-style, both of them had agreed: "save yourselves! You guys have babies to live for!  We'll make it on the next ship!"

Final bonus?  All 4 of us (L, TT, Me, Mr.) were terribly sick the next day with the evil poopies.  Thannnnks.

It was funny though, I kind of had a bit of a laugh about this whole horribly bad experience (because I had forecast it all, knowing the M-I-L), whereas The Mr. was VIOLENTLY angry about it.  He was screaming profanities and carrying on the whole drive back home, and then couldn't even settle down enough to sleep once we got home after midnight.  He even woke up angry the next day, and on the way to the Hash, was still carrying on about how pissed off he was.  Then when the evil poopies struck, he got even MADDER!  All day long it was ranting and raving from the Mr.  It was kinda funny, but I felt bad for him being so angry.  While this had all been happening at the NOT a WEDDING, I was trying to just keep on keepin on, updating my twitter feed and snapping ridiculous photos of Leto & TT on the ol' iphone.  Meanwhile he was just *stewing*.  Like the non-existant burnt goat pieces. Trying hard not to, but failing.  The poor guy had soooo much work to do this weekend and a deadline to beat by monday morning, and here he was, wasting away in the bitter cold, starving to death while getting screamed at by an ill-placed speaker and a wailing, ululating Motswana woman professing that God was going to strike down anyone who didn't help the prophets cast out the demons of the shadow of the devil from the blessed marriage of the Jr. & his M.F.

At any rate, Sunday was supposed to be our "worth-it-all" weekend moment, because we just dearly love our sunday hashing sooooooooo much.  But unfortunately that was when we got sick, and we barely made it through the 7km (which just HAPPENED to be the longest one of the year so far - how timely!) doubled over in intestinal cramps, desperate for the nearest toilet, dyyyyying in pain.  We didn't even stay for the beer & braai on afterwards (also b/c the Mr. still had work to do), but came home and felt quite a bit better after some quality bonding time with the porceline god. 

Sunday night, we had promised Leto & TT that we'd drop the JuJu Monster at their place and that The Mr. and I would go out for dinner while they babysat.  We were feeling better at this stage, so we did.  But we kind of did it more for them (TT hadn't met her yet and was dying to) than our own need for date-night, because we still weren't feeling 100%, however it turned out to be a great arrangement because eating a bit of pasta and garlic bread turned out to be just what the dr. ordered for our abused tummies.  And it was a nice note to end a horrible weekend on.  Except for that the poor Mr. had to come home and work SOME MORE.  Well anyway, we bought L&T some muffins, went back to their place where we picked up the JooPoo Machine, swapped muffins for baby, said a terribly rushed goodbye, and sped home to get this weekend over with.  I was asleep by 9pm, and the Mr. pulled the plug on his computer by 10. 

At last it was over!

I did get a terribly cool spring wedding outfit of the whole gig however. And a 7km run.  And a nice italian meal - which didn't go straight to my waistline because it went straight out the other end without stopping.  Awesome!

But in a bittersweet moment that just couldn't be more appropriate for the weekend - The Mr. turns on his computer this morning at 6am to finish his project before it turns into a pumpkin and finds.... an email from La Client saying "um, we've put the project on hold. Stop working on it for now."
DOH!
Priceless!

Anyhoo, poor guy is going to come home early because I'm going to yoga this afternoon, so hopefully a restful long evening at home with nothing to do will be just what he needs and we'll just try to pretend like it was a 3-day weekend and that the week officially starts afresh on Tuesday.

Labels: aggro, BW-general, work