History is one thing after another.

"History is women following behind…………..with a bucket!" Did I question my femininity once in my life? I would withhold my answer with grace. After all as Josh Billings said, “Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute.”
I feel out of touch nowadays with the woman in me. Seemingly as result of relationship entanglements coupled with the hermit lifestyle I do my utmost best to uphold. But that ponder is best saved for another day. So, where does this stem from?

For a while now, I’ve been putting a hold on watching anything that might feed my mind with knowledge I can retain and tuning instead to the rubbish, the media is burning into my retina and stuffing into my brain. Oh you know what I’m talking about….the twisted and heavily edited lives of people who were once something and instead have sold their abilities like a prostitute to media corporations. And the irony of it all is that we get sucked into that world and they get paid a lump sum amount for their efforts.

So I just concluded watching The History boys and as though the title may put you off, every movie deserves a chance to show its potential. Don’t be so quick to shoot it down.

The plot revolves around eight boys in a Sheffield Grammar school in 1983 who after recently attaining the school’s highest A-level exams have to take a History exam in order to get into Oxford and Cambridge.

They are taught by their General studies teacher who as we can tell is their favourite, Hector and Mrs. Lintott. Later the Headmaster introduces a younger teacher,Irwin to assist in their preparations. The circumstances of the introduction spell awkward as you can see. Not to mention that they were all speaking French (this is where I thank my parents for forcing me to go for my French lessons)

As the story progresses, we learn that Hector offers his students rides home on his bike and well…..errr. No use calling a spoon a big spade here, he gropes their privates. The boys tend to laugh off his attempts. It later comes to a halt when he is reported to the headmaster by a crosswalk guard whose cap is a major malfunction from the costume department. It still remains unclear to me whether he is gay or just enjoys the groping as a past time.

There are a bunch of life's twists and turns with the movie like truth, confused sexual orientation and most important of all history. I would honestly recommend this any day. It’s certainly no Dead Poets Society but it’s something that will leave your mind nibbling on something healthy for a change. Well, that is until you get sucked back into the media brothel.

Indeed "History is one f****n' thing after another."

The place where I lay my head best

Hi blog community! No, its not another rant from the soon-to-be queen of it all. That spot belongs to my father at the moment,he might be entering menopause for all I know. GASP!

So I was in blissful but dusty Kampala last month where I managed to show up in time to welcome my new niece, Daniella. And when I say just in time, it really was. I barely spent a week in my own bed in my semi-storage room(Mum, I love you but please take your clothes to your own closet) Indeed I was a whimsical bunny,hoping all over the country like my life depended on it(that came out wrong,didn't it?) As always, only the naughty minds dare to wander while the sober ones wonder.

Sadly I had no time to get the awesome pictures I took, you'll just have to wait till my little sister is on holiday from boarding school. The main problems arose as I was flying. With the Air France tragedy(my condolences go out to the family members), I was a bit anxious to get home but at the same time worried. My worst habit so far has got to be my desire to watch things I shouldn't. And this does not include porn If you're wondering. I have a tendency to watch Air crash investigation and May day 24 hours before I fly, come to think of it its more like an itch in a caste that you have just got to scratch. As you might have deduced by now, it did nothing to help my nerves and the stormy weather at Entebbe did nothing to calm me. A panic attack and some hyperventilations later, we touched ground. 

I could tell my family was happy to see me, My dad was rushing me through checks ahead of other passengers because he was hungry and wanted to get home as soon as possible, my little sister said I reeked, our littlest lamb looked warily at me and my mum was all smiles,but that wasn't the last flight, I was taking. A week later I was on my way to Johannesburg and thanks to the H1N1 virus, the cabin was sprayed with some funky aerosol that had me sneezing(allergic) all the way to O.R Tambo airport where we were almost quarantined. I had to hide my sneezing and teary eyes.

How was my stay in J'burg? I enjoyed myself and for winter, it wasn't so bad. I was expecting to step out and be buried in a pile of snow. Pictures? All in the other digital camera, you'll just have to wait once more. Any traits of xenophobia? Well once they know, you're just visiting then I guess everyone is happy but I was offered marriage thrice.....errrr, gentlemen you might want to think twice or in this case thrice.I'm from a poor but rich country which gives citzenship to anyone who wants it so you don't need me for a green card. Heck, I don't even think we have green cards. Or maybe they thought I needed one ......just a minute, I'm enetering my pond of thought.

After J'burg, it was on to see my beloved husband a.k.a my grandfather who looked handsome as always for an 85 year old not to mention my wonderful grandmother. While my grandfather said I looked like a model, my grandmother said I could be used as a weight lift and flinged me from side to side to prove that I was indeed as light as I appeared. For those Ugandans who wonder where I hail from, I'm a girl from the heavenly Mt. Elgon slopes.

I spent a total of five days sleeping, eating, watching T.V and oh yes, that's when Dani finally decided to show up into the world. The star always arrives last,right? My elder sister begged me to have nieces to play with them soon and asked me to move back home as soon as I'm done over here. Well, I was gonna say an enthusiastic yes but the nieces soon quotation had me saying ," yeee..errrr" and I proceeded to scratch my head and smile impishly.

Well....it was a nice holiday. Certainly didn't feel like one but it qualifies in some areas so I will leave it at that. 

Oh....one more thing, I was almost quarantined again at KLIA thanks to that unfunky aerosol. DAMN THE PANDEMIC.

Media Otitis odyssey

I'm no expert on the subject but I do know that it hurts like hell to the point that I just want to jerk my ear off and throw it into a blazing furnace and submit myself to partial deafness.Here's the story, about two days ago, my left ear blocked and being the adult I am, I simply thought it was a wax blockage so I tugged and dug into the ravine to clean out whatever was causing the impairment but alas, all my efforts ended up futile so I surrendered to the fact that it would clear up when I got up in the morning like it usually does and boy was I wrong.

I woke up with a fever, acute migraines and nausea but I ignored it yet again and its not only till the pain and discomfort got to me that I dragged myself into the clinic to get myself checked out. A word to anyone out there who ever gets an ear infection, whether its simply a wax build up, do not under any circumstances let water enter your ear passage,its like giving first class treatment for the bacteria to fester.Luckilly I managed to keep it clean and dry but after 2 days of antibiotics and pain killers, not much has happpened.

The medical fact in lay man's terms is  my middle ear is filled with bacteria infested fluid and as I type this, I can't hear through my left ear so i purposely have to ask people to speak up even in the library and my pain killers last about an hour giving me time to nod off but not enough to give me a decent restful night. I literally wage a war with my sheets searching for a good sleeping position,practicing my pieces for my next violin lessons is a torture since since I'm a right hander,the vibrations just send rings of pain leaving me in agony so I stopped.I get a weird yellow secretion of fluid which is essentially odorless but troublesome.I could go on and on about it but I'm off it right now;Even my blog seems a little dry. I could rant on about the hospital treatment but that is a story best saved for later but one thing is for sure. To all you interns out there, a little piece of advise.I wouldn't let you lay a finger on me If i saw you doing these;

• Fumbling through my file with shaky hands
• Gossiping with the nurses before seeing me in the examination room
• Failing to make eye contact
• Handling me like I'm a cadaver(even cadavers were people who lived,so don't forcefully turn my head coz you want to look into my ear like your life depends on it.)
• Issuing me medication I've already tried and its failed to work(ever heard the saying that you have to fight fire with fire?)
• In short, as long as you look like fresh meat there's absolutely no way I would let you even put that bling round your neck to my bust!

So here is a sample of what my ear probably looks like;

cheers,from my sick bed.

 

Stereotypical Rant..

I was going to insert a retraction here but quite frankly If you are offended then go sit in a corner...

Asking myself for the umpteenth time today, what the hell I'm doing? It’s come to this B.L.O.G a.k.a Blabbering Life On Graphics today. I resign myself to sitting before this LCD to get rid of this nagging bubble of frustration on people. Hold on, this getting a little too deep, I might lose my train of thought If I linger on.

So what’s the issue today? Stereotypical comments....oh yeah, I’m guilty of those too so don’t think I’m pinching all your cheeks out there. All Asians are good at math ...an obvious untruth considering that I am friends with an artist who hates numbers despite coming from a business/engineering family background. Okay maybe that’s a bit too wide scoped but what can I say being of a particular ethnicity has its downs even when everyone is different. 
You’re probably wondering where this rant is coming from, huh? First of all, lemme say I have always taken pride in my ethnicity and I am always keen to learn about other cultures but I dislike it when people throw me in the puddle of stereotypical behaviours of my ethnicity.

Recently as I was practicing, my housemate knocked on my door. I thought he was coming to tell me to pipe down which I would have gladly done but instead he wanted to hold my violin...not much of a shock there but how should I say this, he was rough with my precious Belle and its not because she was expensive. Ask any person who plays an instrument; you form some kind of attachment so someone handling it badly pangs at you. I helped him place it properly and told him how to drag the bow across the string but clearly he thought it served better as a guitar (flinches inwardly).Then he delivered the finishing blow, “(insert ethnicity here) people don’t play such things. This is for Asians and Europeans.”

It shouldn’t have hurt me that much but this wasn’t the first time I was hearing this and what panged me more was that it wasn’t other ethnicities making these comments. To be honest, people of other groups I had met as I trudged along with my case every Saturday morning to my lessons were very encouraging and impressed but whenever I met someone from my ethnicity, that was always the first statement and I always answered with this question, “Really? I had no idea. Remind me again, what instrument do you play?” Not that much of a sarcastic comeback but I burst out laughing every time some of them proudly...I repeat proudly said they didn’t play any. 

So what? I’m a (insert ethnicity here) girl who enjoys listening to classical, jazz,rock and 70’s music in the 21st century. I may bob my head a bit to what ‘we’ listen to today but I honestly can’t play it as much as the others. I don’t wear big hoop earrings that could be mistaken for bangles, I don’t slap lip-gloss on my mouth like its mineral water (I prefer elianto sunscreen lip balm,mild and refreshing), I don’t hood my eyes with heavy mascara, I don’t dye my hair coz it’s as we call it at home P.Q (poor quality), I love comfortable shoes or going barefoot, I bite my nails (I’ve tried stopping before). I do so many things out of the context of a stereotypical (insert ethnicity here) girl my age and I can do so much more as long as I’m happy.

Phew, now that my rant is over..... I know everyone out there has probably been on the receiving and giving end of a stereotype and I’m not gonna give you a five hour speech on how you should love yourself. I would like us to share experiences or things you enjoy doing out of the context of what society has portrayed traits your kind possesses.

Chrithmath Blues

And everybody sat round the fireplace sipping on eggnog after having a wondrous Christmas feast,thats what should happen,right? Or at least I think so but life as we know it likes to give us not only a firm pat but on more occasions a series of lashes to imbue some pain into our lives. I'll stop myself now from running into a rant tirade with how many times that's happened last year. The key element to survival however is to never break your back as you hunch over cowering.

And this is why I hate the holiday season, on every damn street and in every damn mall you see that red and white clad obese figurine ,face half covered in facial hair almost prompting you to call for those five boys that taught straight men to be metro sexual;smiling at you with flushed cheeks..I think he had one too many,If you ask me.Just talking about him gives me the shivers, I mean after over 100 years of doing the same job, you'd think he's be eligible for retirement.I wouldn't mind a hunky Santa sliding down my ....ahem..chimney.Only the naughty minds, dare to wander off. (Sweetie, I mean nothing by it too)

So plagues by the smiling old prick, I half moved-half crawled through the unbelievably crowded mall to have Christmas brunch with my friend.It was so bad, I needed GPS to find her.Christmas brunch was as you'd say delightful, we made fun of people when we run out of stuff to talk about like four hours later. Oh and I already see one hypocrite pointing their finger,you're not so innocent either and that Halo doesn't fool me. When I got home exhausted not because I had been doing heavy exercises but ploughing my way through crowds and dodging baby buggies,I was rewarded with a call from my family back in Derstraviaonyxria having the time of their lives like we always did every time this period came round. I felt piercingly lonely in my apartment and before I knew it, I was pulling on the strings making my instrument cry a sad song. As your suspicions are right, it was "All by myself"

Of course another voice cheered me up.Even though you don't celebrate Christmas,you go out of your way to try and make it worthwhile. Thus ended this holiday craze and next year, I'll be sure to get Santa wasted.