Tuesday, April 29, 2008

It all began back in the rather uneventful year of 1974

It all began back in the rather uneventful year of 1974.

It was an unspectacular year, much like the one before it. And the one that followed it. He was born to a young, newly married couple. Their first born.

Throughout his years at elementary school, his life was much like the year of his birth. He learned to add, and subtract. He learned to draw within the lines. He learned his ABCs.

He didn’t care much for his sister when she was born just 18 months after his rather beige birth.

“Ja, she’s nice. But you can take her back now,” he said to his parents when they brought her home from the hospital.

It was during elementary school that his parents decided to divorce. He didn’t find this a nuisance partly because most of his friends’ parents were divorced. And because over the years, the level of arguing within the home had grown almost unbearable. It was during these times that his imagination grew fertile. He would lie in bed, under the covers, pretending that the duvet on his simple Pine-frame bed was in fact made of cement and that he lay under it, cocooned from the outside world. He would lie there in the darkness and feel oddly safe.

His elementary school years followed him to the local boys’ high school. The very same school his father had attended. Until now, his life had been quite sheltered. The only cuss words he would hear would come from rugged villains on the westerns playing on the TV set in the lounge. And when couples kissed on TV he would blush from embarrassment if either one of his parents were in the room.

So it should come as no surprise that high school came as quite a shock to the young, quiet boy.

At break times, he would meander aimlessly through the school’s many corridors, eating his packed lunches nonchalantly. He would watch the other boys as they sat in groups in the shade and laughed. He watched as some would chase each other around the edge of the sports field. And he would wish he had friends.

He was not an exemplary student by any means. Often times, he would sit in class and gaze out the classroom window at a passing hawk, or at the way the boughs of the Wisteria trees bent in the wind.

But he excelled at English. He would look forward to his lessons about Shakespearen literature. And old English poetry. However, try as he may, he could never grasp the concept of Math, much to his father’s dismay. When he decided to try his hand at Art, he learned firsthand of the depth of his father’s dismay for it was his father who had hoped his son would go on to become a fine tradesman, much like himself. Or perhaps he would excel on the sports field as he had when he was in high school.

But the young boy, who was a ‘late bloomer’ physically, would never follow in his father’s footsteps. He discovered that he had no aptitude for sports and was clumsy with a ball.

He remained tall and lanky while many of the other boys in his class started to fill out. Their voices started to crackle and deepen, and yet the young boy remained the same. At times, during physical education class, he would intentionally drag his feet along the cement pathway that lead to the physical education changing rooms so as not to have to undress in front of his class mates and face their ridicule at his lithe physique.

Sometimes, in the summer months when the swimming program was on, he would skip physical education class altogether and instead go to the art studio and catch up on work which had fallen behind.

He graduated high school with his class mates, many of whom went on to various prestigious centers of learning around the nation. He too had been accepted to one, but when he had mustered up both the courage and the pride to announce this to his father, he was asked who he thought would pay for this education. So as he watched his former class mates go off to college to become doctors and diplomats, he went to the local bakery to start earning his keep.

So the young boy who was now growing into a young man went to seek work. It would be almost a decade later before he enrolled as a freshman in college. A career of higher learning that was to last all of two years.

As the years dragged on, he where his talents lay. And he pursued them. His journeys around the world had begun. They took him to lands he had only heard about in the news. Yet all the while, he began learning more about himself, the world around him, and his place within it.

He began to realize that his chosen career path had little to do with his aptitude, but rather his life experiences up until that very moment. And while traveling on that path, he began to receive recognition for his aptitude. Awards came from various European countries, some from America, and a few from his homeland which he had left behind so many years before.

And all the while, the young boy who was finally becoming a young man felt empty. He felt a yearning for his family. And yet simultaneously an unexplainable desire to prove to his father, and to himself, that he had become successful. Despite all the odds. That in the face of adversity, he overcome all obstacles.

As he faces the many daunting challenges which no doubt lay ahead of him, he is reminded of his past. Of the mistakes he has made. Of the lessons he hopes he has learned from them. He is reminded of his family, so many thousands of miles away. And each time he hears of ill news about family and family friends back home, something inside of him withers. He wonders if he has indeed done the right thing by staying away. And yet, almost as if by epiphany, he realizes that he has learned more about himself and the world in the ten years away from his family than he did in the 24 he was with them. And so the internal struggle continues within him.

But our story is not all gloom for the young man continues to seek the happiness he once knew. The happiness which was the innocence of all things young. He realizes that that happiness comes now in various forms. And he actively seeks them out, as small as they are. As infrequent as they may occur. For it is in their minute size and infrequence that he is able to truly grasp the very core of what it means to be genuinely happy.

He has learned that happiness can come in the form of a job well done, just as it can come in the form of a birthday card sent from many thousands of miles away. And that lesson is just one of many our young boy who gradually turned into a young man has learned along the journey of self-discovery that is life.

He was born in the rather uneventful year of 1974. And today, that young man turns 34.

Monday, April 21, 2008

They say it's a jungle out there

Well, if you're a tepid little craeture, much like myself, then you can avoid the jungle all together by hopping on a bus and heading down to your local zoo.

I did this today and learned many interesting things, such as:

- an elephant's gestation period is 22 months (holy shit!!!)
- a lion (I'd say a 'male lion' but that would be redundant) spends up to 20 hours of the day sleeping and resting (in my next life I want to be a lion!)
- in a fight between a polar bear and a lion, the polar bear would win (could that be because lions spend up to 20 hours a day sleeping and resting?)
- the ostrich has a 46-foot long small intestine (I'm guessing most of it is in its neck!)
- the giraffe has the highest blood pressure of any animal (must be the strain of having that long neck)
- Zebras can't see the color orange (and we know this how exactly???)
- Chimpanzees are our closest relatives, with only 1.6% of our genetic material differing between humans and chimps (you wouldn't think so after a visit to The White House)
- a tiger's paw prints are called pug marks (mmmm, interesting)
- Elephants are the only animals that can't jump (well thank God!!!)
- Great White Sharks can go as long as three months without eating (now that's taking a diet too far)
- Polar Bears cannot be detected by infrared cameras, due to their transparent fur (and here I was thinking it was white)












Thursday, April 17, 2008

Dear God enough already!

I think I have newly weds living in the apartment below mine.

Every second night, at about 11:30pm, while I'm sitting on my bed surfing online or checking email, the rather uninhibited sounds of physical gratuity and appreciation come creeping up the walls and into my apartment. It's as though someone has put a speaker right next to my bed.

Now I like to think of myself as a pretty open person, and even more tolerant that Barack Obama. But for the love of God Almighty, enough already.

The other night I heard I heard her screaming out, "YES, YES, YES!". At which point I had had enough and shouted back, "NO, NO, NO, I CAN HEAR YOU!" Silence. For two minutes. Then it started up again.

I'm all for people expressing their appreciation for physcial stimulation, but seriously, to scream loud enough that the entire building hears you? That's just rude.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Spring. She has sprung.

Here lies the blithe Spring,
Who first taught birds to sing,
Yet in April herself fell a-crying:
Then May growing hot,
A sweating sickness she got,
And the first of June lay a-dying.

Yet no month can say,
But her merry daughter May
Stuck her coffins with flowers great plenty:
The cuckoo sung in verse
An epitaph o'er her hearse,
But assure you the lines were not dainty.


I can't take credit for the purple tongue twister. We can thank Mr. Thomas Dekker for that. Poor chap obviously had nothing better to do back in 1655. Kinda morbid if you ask me. Last I checked, Spring was supposed to be a a joyous season of rebirth. Not coffins, hearses and epitaphs. Oh well. Spring has finally sprung in these parts. Woohoo!

Friday, April 11, 2008

More pics from my trip to NY

Coz I know y'all wanted to see where I went and what I did ;-)

Stayed in a hostel 2 blocks from the 103rd Street subway station

The entrance to Saint Thomas Church on 5th Avenue

Times Square - New York's Picadilly Circus

The old with the new in New York

The Empire State Building - looking up

The Empire State Building - looking down toward Manhattan

We waited in line for over 2 hours to board a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island - and it was COLD

The ferries to Liberty and Ellis Island were absolutely jam-packed

The Manhattan skyline looks very different without the WTC towers

Give me your hungry, the health, the serene, but please for the love of God just make sure that they're clean

If you look closely through the window, you can see the Manhattan skyline

At one point in history, up to 5,000 immigrants used to be processed daily here at Ellis Island

Corner of Ellis Island - I love this building

Average rent for a Park Avenue studio apartment: $2700/month (about R21,000 a month)

Seven years later and there's still nothing where the World Trade Center towers used to be

A cool advertising message on the side of a building

Central Park looks a little dead in the winter

We went to the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) and I saw lots of Picassos - and you're allowed to take photos

No trip to New York is complete unless you've seen a giant rat

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Off the hook

My cell phone, in no way, shape, or form looks like this. And just as well. Can you imagine having to lug this thing around all day?

How times have changed, even from December of last year

"How so?" I hear you ask.

Well, for one, my phone actually rings quite often these days. I have been tapping contacts, sending out the resume, and people are actually responding. Economic depression? Apparently not.

Two interviews done, two phone interviews done, one more phone interview coming up today, and a few more interviews lined up for next wekk. Hopefully one of these calls will lead to job offer.

They call from the west coast to the east, and yesterday I even received one from the midwest. I didn't know they even had cell phones there. or maybe they still use the ones like in the picture above. Who knows.

Come on little cell phone of good news, ring again.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Start spreading the news ...

So the day I was fired, I hopped on a Greyhound bound for New York, you know, City of Lights, never-ending fun and excitement. Now I don't know about you, but I love New York. I love everything New York. And yes, even the New Yorkers.

So I arrived cold and tired and knowing I only had a few days in the greatest city on the face of the planet, I had an itinerary.

First I went to see the Statue of Liberty. I've been before, twice in fact, but it was a beautiful day, blue skies blah blah blah, so I waited in line for two hours. Yes, two hours in line to board the ferry. Finally it was my turn. Two hours in line for a 20 minute stroll around around a green statue.

Then I was Eliis Island-bound. I thought it apt as I am an immigrant to the U.S. so why not visit the place where most Americans can trace some history to? Did you know that at one stage, up to 5000 immigrants would pass through Ellis Island a day from Europe? poor souls had to endure medical tests and have to know just one English word: "yes". This was important because the immigration official would ask them when they arrived if they had enough money to support themselves until they found work. The answer was normally, "yes", and this was good enough for the guy behind the desk. How times have changed.

Next on my itinerary was MoMA. For you uncultured souls, MoMA is the Museum of Modern Art. Now I don't claim to be some fine art afficienado, but I recognise and appreciate good art. I didn't find it here. I walked in and immediately saw a series of five cars hanging from the ceiling. Apparently the artist was protesting the war in Iraq. Yes, I would have guessed that.

The I dragged my skinny carcass over to the Guggenheim - another museum. A much better museum with art that is, well, art. The Guggenheim is not as striking as MoMA but it sure is home to some great pieces. I spent hours in there and eventually I needed to sit down. "NOT THERE! THAT"S A WORK OF ART!" Excuse me for being a lowly peasant. I needed to rest my weary feet and I saw a chair. But behold for she is not a chair!

Then it was on to a New York institution - Caroline's Comedy Club for a bit of hahahaha. Grand evening had by all except for the idiot who decided to sit right in the front so that the comedian could pick on him.

Then sleep. Then off to Times Square. Ooh look at all the pretty lights. Then back to the Greyhound station to head back home, tired, jobless, to two hungry cats.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

The best part about getting fired

The best part about getting fired is that it frees you up, quite suddenly I might add, to do all the things you have been meaning to do but just haven't found the time.

Such as polishing up your resume. Very important as you never know when you might need to send that little beast out to prospective pay check providers.

Or sweeping under your fridge because for months and months you've been busy trying not to get fired, and in the process have neglected the floor under the fridge.

Take a vacation. Not an expensive one, mind you. You'll need money at some point so be a spend thrift.

Do that extra load of laundry.

Catch up on your favorite TV shows.

Sleep in late. This is one of my all-time favorite things to do. Work was hampering that.

Catch up on your correspondence to your prison pen pals. Poor buggers probably think you've forgotten about them.