Thursday, 22 March 2012
And a great day was had by all.
Today was a bloody brilliant day! This is because the sun came out and because this is such a rarity in the cloudy-caveman land in which I live. Everybody had a great day. It was sublime. Severely sublime; so much so that I believe that the sun put a spell on us all and as a result, we were all in a haze. I was horrendously happy. I struck up conversation with randoms, played American football and had a long and lively chat about puberty and masturbation. Weird combination but it did wonders for my mood.
I'm off to work because the sun has obviously hypnotised me into a hex of unproductivity (not a word but I'm happy so bear with me). I'm now off to the library.
Bye bye now!
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Human Rights' Day
Today, South Africa celebrates Human Rights' Day on the 52nd anniversary of the Sharpeville massacre. In 1960, 12 years into the Apartheid era, a number of PAC-affiliated civilians gathered outside the Sharpeville police station to protest against the pass laws which required all black South Africans to carry a identity booklet around with them. The police, without warning, opened fire on the protesters and killed 69 people - many of whom were shot in the back as they attempted to escape being shot. As a black South African, I am incredibly indebted to these brave souls who risked their lives in order for me to enjoy the freedom and opportunities that I have today. South African history is enticingly interesting and I never get bored or tired of watching a documentary which illustrates just how far my country has come in terms of eradicating racial discrimination from society. Although the legacy of Apartheid still lives on and the racial stratification according to wealth and class still exists, one cannot ignore the strides we have made as a nation. I am so incredibly proud to be a South African. I love my country and I am glad that our constitution has become a beacon of light to nations who wish to emulate how we have provided for human rights.
I've also included a link to a rather well-made and well-researched American documentary below which speaks of the pass laws in South Africa and how they affected female and male civilians. Enjoy people :)
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Recklessness
I didn't realise just how beautiful Billie Holiday was. This portrait is so stunning and perhaps the reason why I did not take note of her beauty is because we're always shown images of the tortured Billie Holiday; the Billie Holiday who allowed her addictions to get the better of her career and ultimately, her life. Well, I've plucked up the courage to start listening to her music again. I tried to previously but I found her songs to be quite haunting and torturous. Especially 'Strange Fruit' which spoke about the lynchings that took place in the south. Critics often say that she say out-of-tune and had a rather mediocre voice for the recognition and fame she acquired. However, there's something very emotional and raw about her music. Her voice alone takes you on an emotional roller-coaster and the lyrics of her songs are so insightful without being overly pretentious or informative. Listening to her music is a genuine emotional experience.
She was the real deal :)
Monday, 19 March 2012
Miss Ross
I know she hasn't got the best rep in the business but I can't help but love Diana Ross. This frame is from the magical movie, 'Mahogany' in which she played the character Tracy. I desperately need to see the film again because I watched it when I was quite young and thus could not appreciate it as I would have now. Miss Ross, for me, is the perfect combination of prettiness and poise. She has the elegance of a Victorian aristocrat or socialite. I also happen to love her music too. Give her a listen or at least watch some of her films :)
Friday, 16 March 2012
Buffoonery
This morning I managed to make a complete buffoon of myself and to be honest, I'm not really surprised. As much as I try to appear organised and in-control, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a clown playing dress-up. So basically a mate of mine invited me to feature on his radio show which is aired at the ungodly hour of 01h00 and lasts about two hours. Being the queen of mismanagement and fomo (fear of missing out), I decided to do it because it was a Monday and I genuinely thought I would have completed my tutorial which is due today. I didn't as you can imagine and because I had made a promise and I generally hate letting people down, I went. I was slightly nervous at first and I made some rather uncomfortable and awkward jokes but once things got rolling, I was pretty much well, on a roll. Then I decided that I wanted to show the world just how politically correct I was by stating that the term 'midget' was an offensive one (which is true) and that instead, people should use the term, vertically-challenged or small person. Great! Not so great? My insulting Bruno Mars' height and then going on to say that nothing was wrong with short people and I, wait for it, had loads of short friends.
I made myself look like a 'shortist' and to top things off, I swore on radio! Fabulous! The only good thing that came out of this morning is the fact that I finished my tutorial at 09h30.
Hope your morning has been as fun as mine!
Cheerio! :)
I made myself look like a 'shortist' and to top things off, I swore on radio! Fabulous! The only good thing that came out of this morning is the fact that I finished my tutorial at 09h30.
Hope your morning has been as fun as mine!
Cheerio! :)
Thursday, 15 March 2012
I think I might have discovered a new type of hangover.
I'm feeling a little worse for wear this morning and before you all jump to conclusions and assume I downed a bottle of tequila, I don't drink at all which is the reason why I'm posting about this new type of hangover to hit the world (well, me at least and it's more of a punch to be fair). Last night, my mates and I went out after Chelsea's victorious win over Napoli. The boys were clearly in high spirits and downed a couple of pints at the pub and then had tequilas and vodka and limes at the club (sounds like a line from an LMFAO song). I stuck to my trusty Diet Coke. I always make a point of dancing when I'm out. Even if the music is shite which is very much the case in the small university town in which I live. They're constantly playing tracks from the early 2000s and I find that bizarre because I was barely a pre-teen back then so to hear those songs brings back epically old memories. Anyway, back to the issue at hand; I danced and as a result of being the most sober and sensible person there, dealt with a lot of nonsense concerning my female friends and seedy little sods who could not take no for an answer.
So surely I should be feeling as fresh as a daisy today? Apparently not. I'm ridiculously exhausted. I can barely function. I'm shocked at the fact that I woke up at 10h00 and managed to eat breakfast - albeit I did doze off in my bowl of muesli. I know, not my finest. I can't see myself making a much needed start on my assignments which is quite annoying really.
It leads me to wonder whether there could be such a thing as a non-drinker's hangover? Something that is induced by dancing like a disc diva and then having to deal with the actions of demanding drunks. Perhaps it's because of other factors such as the time I normally sleep and the fact that I really could do with three more hours of slumber. I'm not too sure. And what could be the cure for such a hangover? Not going out perhaps? Or spending as little time possible in a club. Maybe. I don't think I'll try it but it could be an option when I sleep for 13 hours after a night out. Who knows? I'm asking a lot of questions because I have no idea what to say. I feel sensationally bad about this post because it's so bloody boring and nonsensical. You'll forgive though because I am, as they say, hanging like a bat!
Cheerio! :)
So surely I should be feeling as fresh as a daisy today? Apparently not. I'm ridiculously exhausted. I can barely function. I'm shocked at the fact that I woke up at 10h00 and managed to eat breakfast - albeit I did doze off in my bowl of muesli. I know, not my finest. I can't see myself making a much needed start on my assignments which is quite annoying really.
It leads me to wonder whether there could be such a thing as a non-drinker's hangover? Something that is induced by dancing like a disc diva and then having to deal with the actions of demanding drunks. Perhaps it's because of other factors such as the time I normally sleep and the fact that I really could do with three more hours of slumber. I'm not too sure. And what could be the cure for such a hangover? Not going out perhaps? Or spending as little time possible in a club. Maybe. I don't think I'll try it but it could be an option when I sleep for 13 hours after a night out. Who knows? I'm asking a lot of questions because I have no idea what to say. I feel sensationally bad about this post because it's so bloody boring and nonsensical. You'll forgive though because I am, as they say, hanging like a bat!
Cheerio! :)
Wednesday, 14 March 2012
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
All this degree marlakey...is it worth it?
Morning fellow bloggers!
I am ridiculously tired. I feel as though I haven't slept in a day or 20 and I blame this on my pursuit of a degree. Yesterday, while trying to sift through pages of Law journals and case law, I asked myself, as I usually do at 02h00 completing a Law tutorial, 'why on earth am I studying Law? Do I even enjoy it?' And the truth is I don't. Well, ploughing through an abundance of readings that is. And to be fair, no one does. Even the most diligent and keen of Law students or anyone else in the field of Humanities for that matter, will tell you that readings will be the death of them. Understandibly so.
I will admit to enjoying the content in my courses. The cases are compelling and although the judges' dictas are unnecessarily long-winded and flowery, you've got to admire their ability to deliver justifiable and well-thought out verdicts time and time again. Also,l the fact that I am able to attend university is a blessing in itself and I do not take it for granted in the slightest. In some countries, university is an option; something which people do for the 'fun of it'. However, I'm from a country where it is a privilege and you go out of your way not to cock-up your chances of getting a degree. So bearing that in mind, I will go to my tutorial with a sense of gratefulness that I am able to better my life in some way and I have an opportunity very few people on this planet receive. Perhaps I will even throw in a smile there too. Na, I doubt it. I'm too bloody knackered for that s&*t.
Bisous!
I am ridiculously tired. I feel as though I haven't slept in a day or 20 and I blame this on my pursuit of a degree. Yesterday, while trying to sift through pages of Law journals and case law, I asked myself, as I usually do at 02h00 completing a Law tutorial, 'why on earth am I studying Law? Do I even enjoy it?' And the truth is I don't. Well, ploughing through an abundance of readings that is. And to be fair, no one does. Even the most diligent and keen of Law students or anyone else in the field of Humanities for that matter, will tell you that readings will be the death of them. Understandibly so.
I will admit to enjoying the content in my courses. The cases are compelling and although the judges' dictas are unnecessarily long-winded and flowery, you've got to admire their ability to deliver justifiable and well-thought out verdicts time and time again. Also,l the fact that I am able to attend university is a blessing in itself and I do not take it for granted in the slightest. In some countries, university is an option; something which people do for the 'fun of it'. However, I'm from a country where it is a privilege and you go out of your way not to cock-up your chances of getting a degree. So bearing that in mind, I will go to my tutorial with a sense of gratefulness that I am able to better my life in some way and I have an opportunity very few people on this planet receive. Perhaps I will even throw in a smile there too. Na, I doubt it. I'm too bloody knackered for that s&*t.
Bisous!
Monday, 12 March 2012
Interests v Attempting To Appear Interesting...
A couple of days ago, I tweeted that I longed for the days when it was cool to be dumb because back then, we weren't overwhelmed with half-hearted attempts at profundity and general pretentiousness. I genuinely meant that. I'm finding that people are becoming or attempting to become at least, a whole lot deeper. At parties, as opposed to openly discussing how dope Weezy's line was in one of his songs (this is now done in secret so as to avoid being called 'mainstream'), I now hear of people critiquing Machiavelli's "The Prince" or expressing their utter love for Maya Angelou. As a genuine lover of all things culture, I should appreciate this right? I don't. In fact, I absolutely abhor it because their interest in such things is not sincere. It's fleeting and flippant. And I know, who am I to judge whether someone's interest in something is sincere? Well, I judge by the manner in which one expresses one's view on culture and the extent to which one can sustain a conversation thereon. It is here that I am most gravely disappointed. I usually hear things along the lines of 'I read a couple of lines from this play called "The Crucible" (apparently it's quite unknown and falls into the category of oh-so-deep literature) while listening to some Indie music (Mumford & Sons or Bon Iver. Sometimes The Script and Snow Patrol for the less daring) and it was so deep. I thought of life and the meaning of it all and how I'm so misunderstood...' Basically, utter nonsense! I don't know if you noticed how there was no opinion on the actual content of "The Crucible". Just a rather vague and hazy opinion that could be formulated by a vagabond on the street, recovering from a night of binge-drinking on cheap, watered-down vodka.
It bothers me a bit, just how consumed people are with coming across as interesting without having any genuine interests. The mere number of 'fashion and lifestyle' blogs should give you a clue about just how easy it is to come across as a hipster; someone who is so informed about the world and so anti-every-bloody-establishment-there-is. I am by no means, an expert in fashion and I unashamedly admit that I like clothes and I enjoy putting outfits together. But even I, with my rather skim Vogue or W-based knowledge of fashion can suss out the crap in these blogs. There's no knowledge of fabric, aesthetic, style or anything else that is so crucial for a real fashionista to know about. Just general googling of 'cool-looking' people and comments about their outfits and how, if I lost five kgs, I could fit into that. Laughable. There's also this fascination with everything vintage which is not genuine because I highly doubt these people would go to thrift stores or the Salvation Army to find some groovy items of clothing. I know I tend to be quite didactic and critical at times but I'm so concerned about the people I encounter. There's this deep desire to be complicated and messed up and misunderstood and depressed and obsessed with death. But I highly doubt there's any real insight into how it feels to be all those things. Just this image of how cool it must be to be shunned from the world and live a life of isolation. Visit a mental home and then see for yourselves whether living in complete isolation from the world is 'goodly' or perhaps speak to someone DIAGNOSED (note, not self-diagnosed but actually doctor-diagnosed) with bipolar disorder - very sad and scary condition.
What I find quite amusing is that the people guilty thereof, for the most part, have had a privileged and comfortable upbringing and perhaps it's the guilt associated therein that causes them to want to be messed up or in some cases, drugged up. Because then, there's something to be upset about. Some justified form of drama and depression to which their seemingly perfect lives do not lend themselves. It's a touchy subject and I just hope that the next fade that comes, will see people safely emerge from this miasma. But for now, let's just ride through the storm and hope to hell people grow the f*&k up.
It bothers me a bit, just how consumed people are with coming across as interesting without having any genuine interests. The mere number of 'fashion and lifestyle' blogs should give you a clue about just how easy it is to come across as a hipster; someone who is so informed about the world and so anti-every-bloody-establishment-there-is. I am by no means, an expert in fashion and I unashamedly admit that I like clothes and I enjoy putting outfits together. But even I, with my rather skim Vogue or W-based knowledge of fashion can suss out the crap in these blogs. There's no knowledge of fabric, aesthetic, style or anything else that is so crucial for a real fashionista to know about. Just general googling of 'cool-looking' people and comments about their outfits and how, if I lost five kgs, I could fit into that. Laughable. There's also this fascination with everything vintage which is not genuine because I highly doubt these people would go to thrift stores or the Salvation Army to find some groovy items of clothing. I know I tend to be quite didactic and critical at times but I'm so concerned about the people I encounter. There's this deep desire to be complicated and messed up and misunderstood and depressed and obsessed with death. But I highly doubt there's any real insight into how it feels to be all those things. Just this image of how cool it must be to be shunned from the world and live a life of isolation. Visit a mental home and then see for yourselves whether living in complete isolation from the world is 'goodly' or perhaps speak to someone DIAGNOSED (note, not self-diagnosed but actually doctor-diagnosed) with bipolar disorder - very sad and scary condition.
What I find quite amusing is that the people guilty thereof, for the most part, have had a privileged and comfortable upbringing and perhaps it's the guilt associated therein that causes them to want to be messed up or in some cases, drugged up. Because then, there's something to be upset about. Some justified form of drama and depression to which their seemingly perfect lives do not lend themselves. It's a touchy subject and I just hope that the next fade that comes, will see people safely emerge from this miasma. But for now, let's just ride through the storm and hope to hell people grow the f*&k up.
It's quite an arrogant thing, a blog?
This is probably the umpteenth blog I've had and unlike the others which have probably been shut down due to inactivity, I plan to be a very diligent and active with my blogging. The key word in that sentence being 'plan' because goodness knows whether I can keep this up! But I realised that the reason why I neglected those blogs of mine was yes, in part due to laziness, but I genuinely find the idea of having a blog quite haughty. Just the presumptuous belief that people should be interested in what I have to say bothers me. I just feel that one has to have done something remarkable with one's life in order for others to take time out of their busy lives to listen and absorb. Especially considering the vast number of bollocks blogs out there. Why should I neglect my life to read yet another blog about an aspiring fashionista who has been hurt by a boy and now blogs about clothes, life and vibrators for her sanity? C'maaaaaaan! Anyway, that's my rather concise first post. Apologies if there are grammatical errors. I don't plan to make many of them. I just have to run to class!
Au revoir! Bisous!
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