I despise my inability to do something with great haste and consistency. And I'm not solely referring to my failure at getting out of bed when the first fearsome beat of Beyonce's 'Run The World' comes to life at 07:00 as an alarm on my phone. No. I am pretty much referring to everyday things that should be done relatively speedily but do me just being me, they take a helluva long time. What I'm trying to say is apologies for my long and inexplicable absence and I cannot promise you that my posts will frequent this sexy page very often, but I will make an effort to try. That sounds rather redundant. Life has been rather dandy-ish since we last conversed, but there have been a number of speed bumps across the way. The road is still bumpy, but I've upgraded to a more suitable automobile so I don't feel the humps as much as I used to (no sexual innuendo there).
What prompted my return was a browse through a blog by some girl I know - I won't mention who she is or left hints . It was a pretty-looking blog. Not the best writing my eyes have ever stumbled upon but a bloody brilliant effort. It was very raw. Very real. She was so honest and she was not trying too hard to be smart, witty or whatever. She laid everything out on the table and I found that quite endearing. It made me want to become a regular reader of her blog. I'd like to do the same with my blog. Enough with the fancy faffing. Getting down to the nitty gritty. While I'd love to reveal all every tidbit of my life on a public forum, it simply isn't exciting enough so I will settle with being honest about my daily 'struggles'.
Capiche.
Monday, 18 February 2013
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Divided Nation
I have become disenchanted with my native land. Upon arrival in South Africa a month ago, I felt a great sense of sadness. I can't quite explain it. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I had, during my time studying overseas, painted a highly nostalgic and unrealistic picture of home. Highly understandable when you consider the extent to which I was homesick. However, my experience at the Frankfurt airport along with a couple back home, have made me become a little frustrated with South Africa. We're such an unhappy and angry people. We truly are. The only time we bother to be friendly and unite as a nation is when we are confronted by foreigners (Western foreigners to be exact). Because the one thing South Africans hate more than being criticised, is being criticised by others. Particularly those in the West.
The incompetence of government, unfriendly glances from fellow South Africans at Frankfurt airport, constant striking on the part of teachers, exorbitant display of wealth by civil servants and complaints by privileged South Africans who have nothing or very little to complain about, have truly done my head in. I don't want to return to the UK or anything, but I would very much like to leave South Africa for a while. I get that no place is perfect but reading the newspapers or watching the news has depressed me significantly. There's no nationhood among us. There's no sense of unity. We're all divided. Not only racially, but culturally and economically.
It seems Nelson Mandela's efforts to build a rainbow nation were indeed in-vain.
The incompetence of government, unfriendly glances from fellow South Africans at Frankfurt airport, constant striking on the part of teachers, exorbitant display of wealth by civil servants and complaints by privileged South Africans who have nothing or very little to complain about, have truly done my head in. I don't want to return to the UK or anything, but I would very much like to leave South Africa for a while. I get that no place is perfect but reading the newspapers or watching the news has depressed me significantly. There's no nationhood among us. There's no sense of unity. We're all divided. Not only racially, but culturally and economically.
It seems Nelson Mandela's efforts to build a rainbow nation were indeed in-vain.
Wednesday, 20 June 2012
Horrible Bosses
As I mentioned in my previous post, I wanted to do more than just chill during this long vacation. Hence, I got myself a job shadowing stint with this high-flying advocate, or at least that's what she claimed to be, for a day. I say this because people in South Africa have the tendency of playing around with terms without realising the significance thereof. For one to call oneself an advocate, one would need to have studied as a devil under a devil master and then undergo the process of being deemed a 'fit and proper' person to be admitted to the Faculty. Although I hate to underestimate people, judging by how widely travelled this woman is, it is impossible that she is an advocate. It would mean that she trained to be an advocate in the many jurisdictions in which she has worked which, as I said, impossible.
Anyway, swiftly moving on, I noticed that this woman had an undeniably sour air of arrogance to her. Not the one which you would normally associate with lawyers, doctors and other practising professional, but one which was so pungent that you would have to be one oblivious oke (person) miss it. Well, this special lady told me two days prior to the actual job shadowing, that she had a meeting in Cape Town (a city in my native South Africa) and I had to follow her there. Cool. I had no qualms with that. After all, she was a high-flying advocate and things like these often crop up in a workplace that's as hectic as hers.
However, things took a turn for the worst when I arrived in Cape Town and I actually had to meet her. My poor brother had the unfortunate task of driving me to this lady's offices at 07h30 and as soon as we thought we had found the place, she decided to change the venue of the meeting. I was gobsmacked. Not only was this lady as indecisive and unpredictable as Cape Town's weather patterns, but she was also extremely rude, patronising and downright haughty. Eventually, my brother flipped out and said he was tired of driving around, which she overheard on the phone and decided to cancel my internship. I begged her to reconsider but she still cancelled on me. I was so devastated that I cried. My brother was apologetic but I did not and still do not resent him for it. If anyone had spoken to my brother or anyone else for that matter like that, I too, would have been unimpressed.
It made me think about my career, my future and the type of person and professional I would like to be. I hate to bring race into the matter but I feel as though it is necessary here. So many older black professionals, because of the adversity that they've overcome in their lives and the fact that they're educated, have a massive superiority complex and refuse to invest in black youth. Yes, I understand that professionals from other racial backgrounds may share the same inflated sense of self. But it is the issue of preserving a legacy and ensuring the training of the youth, where there seems to be a differentiation between my race group and others. I always found that my white Jewish friends and my Indian friends were welcomed to intern at their parents' friend's company or organisation openly. When I asked my friends about their experience, they often spoke about how their parents' friend was patient, understanding and wanted to ensure that they had learnt something from the experience. I'm not begging for professionals to go easy on us youngsters but perhaps a more practical and teacher-like approach would be highly beneficial. It is that kind of legacy-preservation and approach which does not exist amongst us blacks. We have an 'everyman for himself' type of mentality and a deep-rooted desire not to see other black people grow and flourish in the same space as us. My father, who is a black profesisonal himself, often uses the metaphor of a ladder and how the black man who reaches the top of it will throw it down so that other black men do not follow-suit and he is the only one at the desired destination. We do not realise that competition is healthy as it not only preserves wealth but also makes it grow. Hence, the reason why we will only reach certain heights of wealth and become stagnant in our careers.
Moreover, referring back to my experience, I found it most heartbreaking that the person who essentially did not give me a chance to prove myself, was a woman. Without meaning to sound like a pseudo-feminist, I really do feel that in a such a male-dominated industry, we have a duty to look out for each other. Even when we make mistakes. If said lady put her ego aside, perhaps she would have had the pleasure of nurturing someone who could have furthered her business ventures or perhaps given her ideas which would have benefited a generation of girls in this country. Obviously I do not think that I would have had such an impact but I'm giving possible scenarios or outcomes which could have panned out had this lady not been so egotistical. We are letting ourselves down as women because we're always the first to complain to a predominantly-male government or institution about gender inequality and female empowerment yet we are not empowering ourselves. It is rather patriarchal, ironic and slightly discouraging that we are always relying on men for our empowerment and sense of self-worth and belonging in society. When are we going to do things to uplift ourselves on our own accord?
I do not mean to play the victim here but as a young black female, I feel as though I'm double-handicapped. When the incident unfolded, I swore to myself that I would never work for a black female again and started to abhor all these older black females who had all but a few seconds ago, become the bane of my existence. However, I've had a change of heart. Instead of adopting the racialist views which have crippled and disadvantaged my older counterparts, I've decided not to become anything like them. For me, humility and a forward-thinking, positive attitude is the key to solving all these issues in our country. Because what at the time seemed to be the worst day of my life, could serve as inspiration to create better days for black women and the like in South Africa.
Anyway, swiftly moving on, I noticed that this woman had an undeniably sour air of arrogance to her. Not the one which you would normally associate with lawyers, doctors and other practising professional, but one which was so pungent that you would have to be one oblivious oke (person) miss it. Well, this special lady told me two days prior to the actual job shadowing, that she had a meeting in Cape Town (a city in my native South Africa) and I had to follow her there. Cool. I had no qualms with that. After all, she was a high-flying advocate and things like these often crop up in a workplace that's as hectic as hers.
However, things took a turn for the worst when I arrived in Cape Town and I actually had to meet her. My poor brother had the unfortunate task of driving me to this lady's offices at 07h30 and as soon as we thought we had found the place, she decided to change the venue of the meeting. I was gobsmacked. Not only was this lady as indecisive and unpredictable as Cape Town's weather patterns, but she was also extremely rude, patronising and downright haughty. Eventually, my brother flipped out and said he was tired of driving around, which she overheard on the phone and decided to cancel my internship. I begged her to reconsider but she still cancelled on me. I was so devastated that I cried. My brother was apologetic but I did not and still do not resent him for it. If anyone had spoken to my brother or anyone else for that matter like that, I too, would have been unimpressed.
It made me think about my career, my future and the type of person and professional I would like to be. I hate to bring race into the matter but I feel as though it is necessary here. So many older black professionals, because of the adversity that they've overcome in their lives and the fact that they're educated, have a massive superiority complex and refuse to invest in black youth. Yes, I understand that professionals from other racial backgrounds may share the same inflated sense of self. But it is the issue of preserving a legacy and ensuring the training of the youth, where there seems to be a differentiation between my race group and others. I always found that my white Jewish friends and my Indian friends were welcomed to intern at their parents' friend's company or organisation openly. When I asked my friends about their experience, they often spoke about how their parents' friend was patient, understanding and wanted to ensure that they had learnt something from the experience. I'm not begging for professionals to go easy on us youngsters but perhaps a more practical and teacher-like approach would be highly beneficial. It is that kind of legacy-preservation and approach which does not exist amongst us blacks. We have an 'everyman for himself' type of mentality and a deep-rooted desire not to see other black people grow and flourish in the same space as us. My father, who is a black profesisonal himself, often uses the metaphor of a ladder and how the black man who reaches the top of it will throw it down so that other black men do not follow-suit and he is the only one at the desired destination. We do not realise that competition is healthy as it not only preserves wealth but also makes it grow. Hence, the reason why we will only reach certain heights of wealth and become stagnant in our careers.
Moreover, referring back to my experience, I found it most heartbreaking that the person who essentially did not give me a chance to prove myself, was a woman. Without meaning to sound like a pseudo-feminist, I really do feel that in a such a male-dominated industry, we have a duty to look out for each other. Even when we make mistakes. If said lady put her ego aside, perhaps she would have had the pleasure of nurturing someone who could have furthered her business ventures or perhaps given her ideas which would have benefited a generation of girls in this country. Obviously I do not think that I would have had such an impact but I'm giving possible scenarios or outcomes which could have panned out had this lady not been so egotistical. We are letting ourselves down as women because we're always the first to complain to a predominantly-male government or institution about gender inequality and female empowerment yet we are not empowering ourselves. It is rather patriarchal, ironic and slightly discouraging that we are always relying on men for our empowerment and sense of self-worth and belonging in society. When are we going to do things to uplift ourselves on our own accord?
I do not mean to play the victim here but as a young black female, I feel as though I'm double-handicapped. When the incident unfolded, I swore to myself that I would never work for a black female again and started to abhor all these older black females who had all but a few seconds ago, become the bane of my existence. However, I've had a change of heart. Instead of adopting the racialist views which have crippled and disadvantaged my older counterparts, I've decided not to become anything like them. For me, humility and a forward-thinking, positive attitude is the key to solving all these issues in our country. Because what at the time seemed to be the worst day of my life, could serve as inspiration to create better days for black women and the like in South Africa.
Saturday, 9 June 2012
Vacation
It's holidays. Time for three months of pure relaxation and no stress. I must admit, I've very much been looking forward to this moment. Exams were such a struggle and they really did require a different kind of perseverance and discipline from me with regards to focusing on my studies. I was easily tempted to drift into a daydream which usually concerned me, along with others, doing all the things I had planned to do during my holiday such as reading, writing, praying, partying (who would have thought those two would sit next to each other in a sentence? Cheeky!) etc. However, I find that I have fallen into the same trap as many others who eagerly anticipate the holidays; I've suddenly forgotten about all the über cool things I had in store for myself. Some of these über cool things included punching a homophobe or sexist pig, becoming a librarian or deciding to ditch my studies and teach English to children in South East Asia (I'd love that though). Obviously, these are a bit of a joke and I did and still do have big plans for the holidays. For now though, I've resorted to resting on my laurels, positioned in front of the TV, reminiscing on the semester and the wonderful time I had in London a week earlier. How sad?
Well, at least I have an internship lined up for myself and the prospect of learning how to drive. Very few people have such opportunities in today's competitive job market, ruthless post-recession and dire economic climate. I'm also planning on visiting my brother who studies in a city two hours away from my home city. This is not work. It's more leisure to be fair which I do enjoy and deserve after the year I've had!
I know I have things to do but it's just the interim period between the actual doing and the thinking-of-doing which is killing me. I guess I could give myself a bit of a break and enjoy some downtime before hitting the grind. Hmm, that said, guess I should set an auto-tune for this week's episode of 'Toddlers & Tiaras'.
Ciao for now! :0
Friday, 25 May 2012
A F R I C A
Happy Africa Day!
Nothing makes me happier than telling someone I'm from the beautiful continent of Africa. There's something special about this continent. It's indescribable. It's a feeling. It's ephemeral. Africa has life and I don't mean that in the typically Western perception of an Africa, filled with dancing people who smile stupidly. It goes deeper than that. This continent is filled with survivors. People who have suffered so much yet there is still a fire in their eyes. There's still this quiet determination to overcome or to simply live life on their own terms. Obviously I am generalising and I'm not naive or misinformed enough to think that we don't have our fair share of problems. If anything, we're known for our problems. We're a charity case to the rest of the world. A place and a people in constant need of nurturing and a firm hand. We have no names, no distinctions, no character. Just a void space, waiting to be occupied by the superior ways of others.
I reject this image of Africa and I give people a true image of what my continent has to offer. It's a hybrid mix of people, places, races, cultures and general attitudes. There's something for everyone in Africa. It goes beyond wildlife (which you find in game parks and not, contrary to popular thought, in the streets). It goes beyond simple song and dance.
It's Africa. I can't quite describe its majestic nature. You have to see it for yourself :)
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
You can call it an obsession. I won't kill you for it.
I know. My obsession with this woman grows deeper by the day but I can't help it. I've reached the age where I feel stable enough - emotionally that is - to listen to her music regularly. It's so rich in emotions of pain and suffering and melancholy. I do still struggle with 'Strange Fruit' but I have 'No Regrets' and 'Lover Man' which are much lighter offerings. I prefer the post-1930s Billie Holiday. Although she was not as strong vocally, her ability to convey the true sentiments behind lyrics is unfathomable and pretty much unmatched. I also happen to adore this portrait of her. She looks very ladylike and delicate yet there's strength and toughness in her eyes and the gaze she's holding. A modern-day woman trapped in the confines of an old-fashioned society.
I love you Ms Holiday :)
Monday, 21 May 2012
I'll Be Seeing You
I've been listening to Billie Holiday quite a bit. I decided to find documentaries of her on Youtube. I chose this BBC one because they are known to make great documentaries. However, they do take quite an antagonistic approach and for Billie Holiday fans, it may be offensive (I was quite shocked and upset). But it's informative.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmXkP4lvmnA
Enjoy :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmXkP4lvmnA
Enjoy :)
Friday, 18 May 2012
Oh by the way...
I remodelled the blog. It was in dire need of a makeover so I decided why not? It's not an eyesore any more which is fabulous.
A very, very embarrassing post but I'm allowed to have a couple aren't I?
I'm not even slightly (okay perhaps I'm exaggerating) ashamed of the fact that I watch 'Made In Chelsea'. It does what I need it to do. It doesn't require me to think and it makes me laugh owing to its scripted storyline and failed attempts at staging run-ins every show (the ones involving Millie Mackintosh are, without a fail, the worst). I also quite like the boys on the show. Or at least the way they look. Oliver Proudlock or more commonly known as Proudlock is my favourite. He's the right mix of hipster and gentleman without coming across as too pretentious. Although I find it laughable that he'd dare call himself an artist, the man is trying to make a living out of his flair for the arts. You have to give it up to him. He has his own t-shirt line which is great. This picture of him and Jamie Laing (another favourite of mine) is to die for. They both look so devilishly handsome. Boyishly handsome even.
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Gratitude
The quality that I find most endearing in a person is that of gratitude. I find it so sweet when someone appreciates something that you do for them. No matter how big or small it may be. If there's one thing that my parents instilled in me, it is gratitude. I am so appreciative of the things that people do for me. Even if it's a close mate of mine doing the nice deed. It's important to let them know that you don't take it for granted.
Appreciate people. Appreciate life. Appreciate everything :)
Appreciate people. Appreciate life. Appreciate everything :)
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Reflecting...
I've come to the end of my time here and I can't help but feel reflective. I tend to do this quite a bit. I look back on a period with great nostalgia and at times, complete embarrassment! I feel a lot older, wiser and a bit more self-assured. It's very stereotypical and to be honest, my sudden desire to unleash my personal experiences and life could be blamed on the fact that I watched three episodes of 'Glee' in a row! But this whole self-reflection thing is quite expected considering that I upped and left my country and settled into a new one. I'm hoping for an easier time in the next couple of months. I've spent far too much time fighting for my happiness and sanity. It would be nice not to think and to just unwind for a while. Hopefully, I'll get some writing in. A few jottings about my time here and so on. I got me a job so I get to feel all empowered and shit! I'm feeling more positive about my life and this time around, I'm not ashamed to admit it. Usually, I do not vocalise my positive sentiments in the fear that things won't turn out the way I want them to and I'll end up feeling stupid for having a smithering hope. But I'm too old for that. Time is of the essence and I'm going to live my life like it matters.
I'm currently writing exams but I'm determined to blog my brains out after they're done. And perhaps in the process of my exams, because of stress and all that.
Danke :)
I'm currently writing exams but I'm determined to blog my brains out after they're done. And perhaps in the process of my exams, because of stress and all that.
Danke :)
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
White King, Red Rubber, Black Death...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpibEk3lUg0
One of the most disturbing yet brilliantly-made documentaries I have ever watched. It's not for sensitive viewers though. Details the genocide that took place in the Congo back when it was under the rule of the dictator-royal King Leopold II. Very, very interesting indeed :)
One of the most disturbing yet brilliantly-made documentaries I have ever watched. It's not for sensitive viewers though. Details the genocide that took place in the Congo back when it was under the rule of the dictator-royal King Leopold II. Very, very interesting indeed :)
I need inspiration
I'm in desperate need of inspiration. My creative juices are as dry as beef jerky or biltong, if you're from the southern tip of Africa, at the moment and it's worrying me. I feel such a great sense of purposeless when I attend my lectures and walk around the place. I know I sound like a moaner but I've become one of those people who looks forward to the end of the day. Someone who very rarely remembers to live in the moment. Because I'm basically waiting. Waiting for my lecture to end. Waiting in the line to buy food. Waiting for my friends to text me so that we can do something. Waiting to go home. Waiting to eat. Constant waiting. In actual fact, I'm pretty much waiting to die. Sad, morbid, cynical? Yes. True? Absolutely.
In my final year of high school, my Drama teacher made us read a play called 'Waiting for Godot' by Samuel Beckett. Sorry to sound like an intellectual snob but if you have no idea who Beckett is then you can't quite call yourself cultured. Anyway, this play was strange and at the time, I thought it was a bunch of pseudo-philosophical/intellectual/artist bullshit. Just a bunch of people writing about depressive things because that is what art constitutes. I had quite a blunt and honest approach to plays, artworks and writings dealing with melancholy. A whine-sesh, I thought. Accompanied with the actual beverage too. I could never understand why self-respecting people such as these, who were educated at some of the finest institutions in the world, were depressed? I thought it was pathetic. A result of pure boredom. And to a certain extent, I think it was. But now that Vladimir and Estragon's state of waiting has become my reality, I sort of understand the position from which Beckett, Camus and others alike were coming. Life, when looked at introspectively, is a waiting room. Your entering the room, albeit after a wait, can end positively or negatively. In the same way that your life, when you die, ends happily or sadly. Depending on what you've done with it. Whether you've fulfilled your dreams or waited for them to be fulfilled. I know I've made a simplification of a profoundly thought-provoking issue but the gist of what I'm saying, hopefully, comes across.
I now wish I could read the works we had the pleasure of critiquing in high school. Unfortunately, at that time, my dreams and ambitions seemed far too important that I could not waste a second on morose literature.
Oh how the times have changed...
In my final year of high school, my Drama teacher made us read a play called 'Waiting for Godot' by Samuel Beckett. Sorry to sound like an intellectual snob but if you have no idea who Beckett is then you can't quite call yourself cultured. Anyway, this play was strange and at the time, I thought it was a bunch of pseudo-philosophical/intellectual/artist bullshit. Just a bunch of people writing about depressive things because that is what art constitutes. I had quite a blunt and honest approach to plays, artworks and writings dealing with melancholy. A whine-sesh, I thought. Accompanied with the actual beverage too. I could never understand why self-respecting people such as these, who were educated at some of the finest institutions in the world, were depressed? I thought it was pathetic. A result of pure boredom. And to a certain extent, I think it was. But now that Vladimir and Estragon's state of waiting has become my reality, I sort of understand the position from which Beckett, Camus and others alike were coming. Life, when looked at introspectively, is a waiting room. Your entering the room, albeit after a wait, can end positively or negatively. In the same way that your life, when you die, ends happily or sadly. Depending on what you've done with it. Whether you've fulfilled your dreams or waited for them to be fulfilled. I know I've made a simplification of a profoundly thought-provoking issue but the gist of what I'm saying, hopefully, comes across.
I now wish I could read the works we had the pleasure of critiquing in high school. Unfortunately, at that time, my dreams and ambitions seemed far too important that I could not waste a second on morose literature.
Oh how the times have changed...
Monday, 23 April 2012
...
I'm starting to have this overwhelming sense of guilt about my blog. Hence the reason why I haven't been blogging of late. I just don't understand why I need to impose my opinions and at times, my bullshit on others? Why should my opinion count? And the more and more I write, the more I feel that I am morphing or perhaps have already morphed into a stereotypical pseudo-intellectual. Someone of a VERY average intelligence who enjoys engaging in supposedly philosophical topics or 'deep' matters in order to feel superior over the common or straw man. I certainly don't mean to be one and perhaps I'm revealing a lot of my insecurities by writing about this. But I would hate to think that I am not genuinely interested in things that I have put up on this blogor attempt to feel superior to other people. I always strive to know more and to question the status quo because I enjoy challenging things and expanding my knowledge. I don't have the answers and if I do offer an opinion on something, it's because I feel quite strongly about it and you DO have to have your own opinion generally. But I don't know. I'm losing my way. It's sad. Perhaps I need to care less. I don't know.
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Sunday, 8 April 2012
I'm so tempted to get myself all pierced-up. Well not to that extent (picture to the left) of course but I'd definitely like an eyebrow and nose piercing and a row of others on my left ear. I've always loved the look. The only issue is my bloody degree. A highly pierced-up lawyer aint gonna be getting a lot of cases or a mere internship to start with. Plus, I'd also like tattoos which will definitely see me get zero work. I think I'll probably end up with the piercings though. And the tattoos. I'm at that stage in my life where I don't give two flying cows. A very delayed phase of rebellion if you will :P
It feels good. Laters :)
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Gramatical Erors (thought I'd be clever there)
I'm a stickler for grammar. I am in love with grammatical correctness. It makes my day when I read an article - electronic or hardcopy - that is free of comma splices, split infinitives, malaproprisms and the like. I also happen to go gaga over a guy that is incredibly articulate and is able to tranpose that eloquence in a Facebook status, an e-mail, a bbm or any other kind of social or internet-related medium.
Well, now that I've started every sentence of that short paragraph with the word 'I', I'll get onto more important matters. Me, that is. Haha! Could not resist doing that. But yes, I've started to notice that I am succumbing to the same errors as most mere mortals. Grammatical errors that is. I don't mean to be condescending but truth is, most people do not pay heed to grammar the way that I do. Often, they do not even bother to know the difference between you're and your. A mistake or an arrogance rather that is most commonly displayed on Twitter. Then there's the death of the full-stop or period and its replacement with the comma. Something that I find, is akin to the replacement of characters in soapies: bizarre, random and unexplained. I have zero idea why people find it sexy to use commas all over the place. It looks so clumsy and more importantly, reads foolishly in speech because it is not possible to take so many breaths when uttering something. It would sound like one is being suffocated by a polar bear.
I don't want to rant on because by my own admission, I'm already sounding like a pretentious prat. What I really wanted to rant on about was MY errors on this blog. I've noticed that I'm making so many grammatical mistakes which really does not sit well with me because like it or not, most people see grammar as a reflection of intelligence. And if this blog is anything to go by, I am an INCREDULOUS IMBECILE (bet you that didn't even make sense). Moreover, I'm so guilty of pretentiousness in my pathetic desire to sound eloquent. I'm sometimes ashamed of the crap that I've written on this blog. I know that we're human and in my case, I'm all too human in that I get tired from working and do not bother with spell-check but it's still unacceptable. On Twitter, I'm the first to grill the wannabe-hippies and hipsters over their grammar and general ignorance when they attempt (bless them) to tweet about something other than vintage clothing and Bon Iver. It's wrong and I'm genuinely sorry. The dig at the hippies and hipsters might have detracted from the sincerity of my apology but I apologise for my laziness.
So from now on, I will do what I normally do but at thrice the ferocity. I will spell-check and google words and phrases of which I am unsure. I will stay away from malaproprisms and sinful syntax. I will try my utmost best not to sound too pretentious because I hate that in people. I'm just going to try to do better than good enough.
Peace and love and all the good things that will always elude humanity :)
Well, now that I've started every sentence of that short paragraph with the word 'I', I'll get onto more important matters. Me, that is. Haha! Could not resist doing that. But yes, I've started to notice that I am succumbing to the same errors as most mere mortals. Grammatical errors that is. I don't mean to be condescending but truth is, most people do not pay heed to grammar the way that I do. Often, they do not even bother to know the difference between you're and your. A mistake or an arrogance rather that is most commonly displayed on Twitter. Then there's the death of the full-stop or period and its replacement with the comma. Something that I find, is akin to the replacement of characters in soapies: bizarre, random and unexplained. I have zero idea why people find it sexy to use commas all over the place. It looks so clumsy and more importantly, reads foolishly in speech because it is not possible to take so many breaths when uttering something. It would sound like one is being suffocated by a polar bear.
I don't want to rant on because by my own admission, I'm already sounding like a pretentious prat. What I really wanted to rant on about was MY errors on this blog. I've noticed that I'm making so many grammatical mistakes which really does not sit well with me because like it or not, most people see grammar as a reflection of intelligence. And if this blog is anything to go by, I am an INCREDULOUS IMBECILE (bet you that didn't even make sense). Moreover, I'm so guilty of pretentiousness in my pathetic desire to sound eloquent. I'm sometimes ashamed of the crap that I've written on this blog. I know that we're human and in my case, I'm all too human in that I get tired from working and do not bother with spell-check but it's still unacceptable. On Twitter, I'm the first to grill the wannabe-hippies and hipsters over their grammar and general ignorance when they attempt (bless them) to tweet about something other than vintage clothing and Bon Iver. It's wrong and I'm genuinely sorry. The dig at the hippies and hipsters might have detracted from the sincerity of my apology but I apologise for my laziness.
So from now on, I will do what I normally do but at thrice the ferocity. I will spell-check and google words and phrases of which I am unsure. I will stay away from malaproprisms and sinful syntax. I will try my utmost best not to sound too pretentious because I hate that in people. I'm just going to try to do better than good enough.
Peace and love and all the good things that will always elude humanity :)
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