I don't know if it's just me, but the last day of the year always has this surreal air about it. I can only compare it to the dark smell of death. Spooky isn't it?

Year 2010 is passing away today midnight. Just like all the other years before it, it's going to be gone and forgotten. Forever!
It's crazy how my heart gets so heavy on the 31st of December of each year. I feel like am losing something dear and precious...a part of me.
So today at midnight we bury this year we got to know and loved. We bury everything that came along with it. Successes, achievements, failures, tears...etc. It's a shame that the clock never gives anyone, or anything a second chance. We can never rewind or pause it. A second that has passed never returns.
That's just the way it is.
Life must go on.
The beer must be drunk.
The fodya wachikulire must be smoked!


Happy 2011 to you all!!!

"insert dots of ellipsis here"

I am speechless, G.
Muted!
Chelsea's huge humiliation at Emirates last night has maimed my soul so inexplicably I haven't smiled the whole day today.
Gosh...!
*face to face with pain yet again*

They say to be passionate is to risk a heartbreak...and to risk a heartbreak is pluck...
But is passion worth all the pain?
Is my love for Chelsea, Serena Williams and Rafa worth this lifeless-like state I'm in now?
Well, all I know is life would be mediocre without Chelsea, uninteresting without Serena Williams and FLAT without Rafa.
All would be incomplete without my boo-hooing for the aforementioned!
#It'sComplicated!
*KanyeWestShrug*

I hear Elton John is now a father?
Wow, the world gets weirder...

*3 more days b4 year 2010 passes away*

Guess who's back?

This morning, my demonic obsession with the greatest 2pac Amaru Shakur, which has layed dormant for more than a decade rusurrected itself! Without notice, without warning...
Growing up, I had no choice but to love Pac. My whole household was forced to endure the loud unfamiliar ramblings of this new artist my brother was newly obsessed with. At first, we would all go ballistic everytime Craig (My brother) played "Brenda's got a baby" in the house. My mum would actually go nuts threatening to break the HiFi. But slowly, we all fell for Pac's indisputable charm. Even mum! My brother and I would grace her with the most wicked serenade of "Dear Mama" whenever we got a chance. And she loved it.One time she even stood up and gave a little motherly jive. It was hilarious, and memorable at the same time. Though I have no recollection of when exactly I fell for 2pac, he quickly became my latest knight in shining amour. The first rapper to ever woo my soul. It could have been MC Hammer, if it wasn't for his ridiculous fashion sense. To be specific, the unattractive pair of pants he always used to wear. They totally put me off. I even refused to learn how to stomp the way he did because every time I moved my feet, I'd think of those ugly pants and my temper would rise. Snoop Doggie Dogg also failed to win me. I would look at him from the TV screen and thought, "wow, he certainly looks like my dog, Villah". It would have been against the mother of nature to fantasize about him. And trust me, I was never the one for bestiality. My cousin was. Defenseless chickens, ducks etc, would rock his world. One time he got it on with the neighbours duckling and was discovered in the middle of the sick act by the owner of the bird. My poor granny almost got a heart attack!
I really should do something about my bad habit of straying from the main topic. Anyway, I was talking about my love affair with the late 2pac. He had me so wrapped around his hair follicle (forget he was bald) that when he passed on in 1996, my heart broke. I didn't want any reminders so I destroyed every memento I had of him.
And when my mum followed suit beginning of 1997, (by following "suit" I mean dying) I vowed never to have anything to do with Pac ever again as long as I lived. Every time I heard his deep sexy voice, be it a radio or TV, I'd see mum's smiling face. Every time I listened to Dear Mama, I'd see mum dancing. It was like a sword straight to my soul. It hurt so bad!!!
So, that was how the divorce came about, Pac's and mine:)And when my brother passed away two years ago, the divorce was like finalized.

But this morning, for some very weird reason, I knew I had to listen to him just one more time...
And damn, was I blown away! Emotions I never knew I had gushed rapidly from every orifice of my soul. In a very short space of time, I was back in the hood with my bro - Brannah Ice and C Doggie doing it like proper Gs.

Having stayed so long without listening to this legendary rapper has created a certain kind of novelty in me. Suddenly, I'm paying profound attention to every single verb in his lyrics, every emotion he must have felt...
Damn, 2pac was one INFURIATED soul! I wonder what it is that pissed him off so greatly?
But his fury somehow made him the gigantic artist he was.

Every artist tells a story. But what makes them a great artist is the authenticity and originality of the story they are telling. How believable. Even MJ had a story. A freaky one, but a story is a story. Even Lady Gaga has one. If you take a close look at the Poker Faces and Bad Romances, you'd get to learn a lot about the person Stefani Germanotta behind the character Gaga.
In literature, they say music begins where words end. So the death of words, means the birth of lyrics. Suddenly life becomes too much to bear and you need to do more than talking...
Pac story was a true story. And he told it with every bit of emotion he possessed. The guy was so pissed off with fate, for some reason, and had to convey the message through his talent. It was him against the world with music as his only weapon. I tell you, this guy was one Hot Head! His songs were a reflection of his life, and that was what made his performances heartwrenching. The emotions in his songs are so
raw, so real...you couldn't fake it with a million years of practice. That explains the reason why no other rapper has beaten his record yet. There hasn't been any to tell a different story - lack of originality! Shite, but the guy was obsessed with death..!
A lot of comparison has been made between Pac and his rival B.I.G. But I see no point in doing so. Of course B.I.G was one "big" artist, unbelievably talented. And like every other great artist, he had a story of his own to tell, only he lacked Pac's intelligence and authenticity
The world still awaits the day a rap artist will be born - One that's going to level up with Pac. Slim Shady comes close, only he is white(I ain't racist, but rap isn't for our pink skinned friends). And its obvious that most of his work is Pac-influenced. And Snoop-influenced! He's actually very smart, Shady. He's like a sponge. He observes and learns from other artists. Then he puts together his observations, what he's learnt and his own talent to make something unique. He is amazing. Only he is still white. The worst thing since Elvis Presley. And the best!

So yeah, Pac is back in my life. And this time I'm never ever letting him go again! His music brings with it times, places and special people that I'll never know again.

It really smells like christmas out there. Snow is back with more cruelty and I haven't done most of my shopping...
Right now I'm at wit's end figuring out how I'm gonna bribe my brother in law to drive me to town.
But anyway, whatever happens, I'll see ya next year!
You've been a great listener as always...all year. You never even once complained about my neverending complaints.

*I think Hubby stole some of my doobie... they might be a "boxing match" 2nite...

December the 18th.

Today is my brother's birthday. He would have been 31. Knowing me, I'd have given him a hard time for being an old man. I'd have made fun of him finishing "the calendar". In my family once you are 31 or older, you can never get away with any mischief ever again. Basi wakula, wamaliza "kalendala", that's what the old women from Mpemba always say. I wonder if he'd have had a wife and children, my brother... I wonder about so many things... But there is no way I will ever know. For this beloved sibling of mine has been 2 years cold under earth. A life snipped short!

As I torture myself missing my brother, I wonder for the millionth time why people in my family choose to die on each other's birthdays? Like my dad who died on my birthday..., my uncle who died on my aunt's, and my cousin Janet, who took her own life on this same day my brother was born, 20 years ago. Why? Tell me G, when you've had your birthday "funeralised", how do you ever celebrate it again without the sadness, without shedding a tear? How do you ever get wasted again without worrying you are pissing off the ones who are dead?
Really, the "one above" owes me a zillion worth of answers.

*Craig, I hope they celebrate old age wherever u r! Kumaliza kalendala is not a joke... It's actually a very scary nightmare.
Janet, hopefully one day you'll be able to enlighten me on what pushed you to the edge to finally take your own life. RIP

The "Drama" in my life.

Today my older son Orama had his Christmas school play. And as parents, me and this man I married had to go and give him morale. As usual, we overslept. We always do! When the alarm goes, it's the same indignant phrase that comes out of hubby's mouth, "oh just shut it you fool"! Then its my turn to switch it off with suppressed anger of a hungry lioness before sweet sleep resumes. Orama has never been early to school. Ever! And the principal no longer says anything anymore. I think he's completely fed up with our late tendencies. And the worst, and probably most embarrassing thing is that we stay really close to the school. Only about 2 minutes walk...
Well, I blame the tsetsefly that infected me with a sleeping illness for everything that goes wrong in my life. And Eve from the garden of Eden. But hubby on the other hand has no excuse. Only laziness. And if we look in the medical jargon, it isn't a disease...or maybe it is...

*I must have pissed fate off in the most "terriblest" way possible to be blessed with a terribly disorganized husband on top of my own disorganization!*

Ok. We did get to the school. Yes, a few minutes later than the other parents, but we got there. And no one would have guessed that Tich my husband, a 35 year old respectable rasta, had on his 5 year old son's socks! And this was because he was too lazy to find his own. No one would have dreamt that I, a mother of 2 grown boys, hadn't dressed my "inner" executive self.. Ok, I had no knickers on. There! Couldn't find any in better condition. The uninvited visitors in my house, yes, the bloody rodents feasted on all the good ones I had:(
And as if the underwear situation wasn't enough, we had to lose a child. Tj, our 3 year old. Actually Hubby did.
What actually happened was, after the play, I went off to talk to Orama's teacher leaving Hubby with Tj. When I came back about 10 minutes later, Tj had run off and Hubby was going around in circles like a dumb, drunk duck which had lost it's way home. Damn was I so furious! This was actually the second time for this man to have lost the same child. So yeah, there was some bickering. A lot of it. The other parents had another show to watch. So embarrassing!
This episode today really is a testimony that my husband and I ought to grow up and start behaving like proper parents. We can't carry on raising kids in such a mad environment.
And I need to get new knickers. The thieving rats:(!! Its their fault I'm still bare "underneath" and feeling like Paris Hilton.

Anyhow, the play went absolutely grand. There wasn't a dry eye in the hall. Even Tich cried. Though I know he'd deny before Allah and his disciples that he did.
If people could really burst with pride, then the explosion that would have taken place today at the play would have destroyed the whole galaxy.
The children participating were purely amazing. Brilliant! All of them. But there's absolutely no semblance of doubt in my mind that my son Orama, the "Precious one", was the brightest star among all.
And I think I deserve a pat in the back for 5 years of hard labour. Installing humanity in "animals" isnt one plus one.
On that note, do me a favor and forget my underwearlessness!

*I'm going to a fancy party tonight. This dress I'm planning on wearing won't do with no undergarment. So after typing this, I'm off to the mall!

...

Hey G, I know this is a little too early for blogging, but I got to do something to numb this sore soul of mine. I had another disturbing dream. Extremely bittersweet!
Now I've come out of the porridge-like trance and I'm a walking bomb of tears. Any time I'm gonna blast. If that teary flood begins, I don't know how I'm gonna make it stop.
Damn...!!!

I really gotta find some doobie-( I know I gave the stuff up, but these are hard moments...

Emotions, Dreams et Footie.

"ain't it crazy how an email could just flip your mood, and you don't know what to think or feel..., ain't it scary how one person in the entire universe could get obsinately stuck in your thoughts and affect your every heartbeat..."
That's really a wayward paraphrase of JLo's "ain't it funny" lyrics!

I'm a mess, G. Emotionally. And I'm sure you know the root of it all. It ain't no rocket science. *Sigh*
I just hate this helpless feeling of being caught in between wanting to do what's right and what's right for my heart. It exhausts me mentally, and leaves me vulnerable emotionally.
I'm so tired, G. In every sense of the verb.
My soul is aching badly right now, and I feel very disoriented inwardly-<
Well...., *another sigh*
Why?
How?
When I'm like this, even vodka doesn't taste that good!

*Hey Stiletto, my gorgeous pair of heelz, how do you fancy coming to Chile with me and get ourselves trapped in a mine?* This time no rescuers.
That way I can die peacefully and lovingly with you ON - the "sexiest" death of all - so sexy it won't do us part:)
So watcha say, huh?
Not to worry, I'm only dreaming in colour here.
*****************************************************
I missed most of yesterdays game between Arsenal and Man United. Physically, I was there looking at the tv, but my mind was somewhere in Azkaban... or was it afghanistan? Yeah, somewhere between the two lands fighting insanity.
I know Gunners run out of bullets and let Man U do the shooting.
I also know that "the-once-was" Wayne Rooney missed a penalty...and I mean miss as in kicking the ball all the way to Azkaban where my mind was.

Alright G, time to chill in Westeria Lane with my fellow "Desperate Housewives".

HIV AIDS.

It's world AIDS day today.
My plan was to get idiotically drunk since I didn't go to work because of snow, but I remembered the time I was nursing my mum on her death bed some decade and two years ago due to AIDS, and all the alcohol cravings disappeared within an instant.

There is no doubt in everyone's mind that HIV AIDS has caused a million of tears around the world. There isn't a single human being that hasn't been affected. Directly, or indirectly.

The Killer disease is thought to have attacked it's first victim in 1981. I was only a useless foetus then. No one really knows where the deadly virus popped out from. Some say a scientist got it on with a monkey during an experiment and got infected. And some say the whole gay act is what started all the trouble...
There is no proof really where AIDS came from, but the fact is: It is real. And it kills!

I remember the time I was in hospital with my mum back in Malawi, that's when it hit me that AIDS was no ill fantasy. I saw things too terrifying for my fifteen years of age. The number of patients sick with AIDS was unbelievable. The hospitals couldn't cater for them all. In the ward my mum was, there were more than six critically sick patients squashed in. And it was only fit for one. On top of the patients, there would be healthy guardians, like myself. Yes, in the same "tight" space. One guardian for each patient. Some patients would sleep under the beds. And It was freezing, and hampered with anopheles mosquitoes which would suck greedily on their already insufficient red blood cells. But there was just no room. As a guardian, it was our duty to find the most comfortable sleeping spot before the other guardians beat you to it. Mostly I would just sit through the night and listen to the patients' troubled breathing. Some of them would cough their lungs out through out the night. I remembered a certain girl who I had made friends with. She had just gotten married and was pregnant, and sick with TB.
Unlike the rest of the patients, she wasn't skin and bones. She was the healthiest. Everyone thought it was just a matter of time before she would be discharged. Then one day she just coughed out a gut of blood. And that was the end. Her husband was in a state...
I tell you, the scene was too ugly to watch. I'm totally traumatized to this moment.
Apart from the distasteful sleeping conditions in the wards, bathrooms and toilets were another nauseating issue. Gosh! And the chambers patients who couldn't take themselves to the loo would use..., let me not even go there!

Ok, this was a hospital for the poor, but even the rich AIDS patients in rich hospitals with better conditions suffer the same fate; a long painful death!
As long as you are infected with the killer virus, you are toast. And besides being in so much pain, people isolate you in the most cruel way.
It's different when you have cancer, or any other deadly disease...

AIDS has done a lot of damages. There are some people who never even have a voice or choice in the matter. Like the defenseless children who are born infected. Like Nkosi Johnson. Or the husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends with unfaithful partners.
It's heart-wrenching!

I know some people have relaxed with the invention of the ARVs. But that's a big mistake.
A life of pills on daily basis isn't worth living.
AIDS is real! And it has no mercy!
Do not take chances. Five minutes of pleasure isn't worth dying for.
"Wrap up the salami and save lives!"

*talk about AIDS and save lives. It took me a decade to talk about my mum*
*and it still hurts so bad!*

.

Ireland vs Snow.

Thats it! Ireland needs more than a prayer!
As if recession isn't enough, a very unfriendly weather has to ruin everything.
Well, I don't know....

But I must admit, it looks heartbreakingly gorgeous outside. I almost didn't recognize my own neighborhood this morning when I woke up.
If only snow wasn't so cold and "heartless"...!

I'm at home with the kids. The roads are so slippery it's impossible to drive.
It's great to be home, but the temptation to get drunk is getting outta hand...lol