Monday, November 10, 2008

My Lips Are Evil

The first thing I didn't allow myself to call a relationship taught me to not do this. I don't really any more. Unfortunately blogs have become a means for self indulgent individuals such as myself to muse. It's a small treat, so muse I shall.

My parents made juice for breakfast yesterday. Carrot and pear. It smells. When it was done my mother poured it into individual drinking glasses using a jug with a faulty lip. It messed stinky juice all over the table. It made me wonder what people would be like if they didn't have any lips.

The problem with the world today seems to be people. Our earth is dying because we like to play with it and not give back to it.

We buy big fat Hummers with money we don't have because showing our neighbours and colleagues that we earn more than them is worth the drive to work (or a trip to the grocery store, for the yummy mummies) in the most impractical vehicle possible. My friends at "FUH2" call it "the ultimate poseur vehicle" and I agree. I would like to have one - in a life where my universe was a vacuum and where there were no other living organisms. I like big things and I understand the appeal of destructive power. But I don't like showing off and I just happen to like Earth.

We use whatever we want, however we want. Chytridiomycosis is a great word. Try saying it 3 times and then when you're done with that, say Pregnancy Test. "In the 1930s, African frogs were exported for use in human pregnancy tests and it is suggested they may have carried a fungal disease with them." Gross. Why not make our lives easier by destroying everything in our path?

I'll TELL you why. It's because we have LIPS. Here's my musing. What if human beings had no lips? Imagine how less sexy we'd be. We'd talk funny - only if it were necessary (eliminate the problem of bullshit). We'd eat funny - only if we were
actually hungry (eliminating the problems of obesity and over-indulgence). We'd have less sex - because we would be less sexy? This is a gray one but picture someone with no lips and you'll know what I mean. (I suggest less over-indulgence and over population.)
I suppose we'd be lacking as a species. Not to mention a far less interesting one. We may even be less able, like the dodo that got too fat to fly. But maybe that's an okay compromise, seeing as how our ethically conscious minds aren't enough to help us make decisions which would take other species into consideration anyway.

I'm not a prude, but I do think we enjoy life a little too much. It would be nice if the whole world exercised some abstinence. Even if the purpose was simply to be able to appreciate life's joys. The whole world should fast next Ramadhaan.

And FFS sell your fat ugly petrol guzzler.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

The 229th day of 2008

My tribute to trivia: just a thought.
Am I the only one who has noticed how significant this day was?

  • Laylat ul Bara'ah - Laylat ul Bara'ah is Arabic for "the Night of Freedom from Fire." It occurs on the night between the 14th and 15th of Sha'ban. It is considered a night when Muslims are graced with Divine Mercy and blessings. The night is spent in the recitation of the Qur'an and special prayers as well as visiting the deceased. (Thanks, Wikipedia.)

  • Raksha Bandhan - a festival celebrated mainly in northern Indian states. Rakhi is a special occasion to celebrate the chaste bond of love between a brother and a sister. (I'm not sure about this one but thanks again, Wikipedia.)

  • Madonna's Birthday - the queen of Pop reaches her half century. Ew, but still significant to a lot of people.

  • Anniversary of the Death of Elvis Presley - 31 years ago The King died naked, fallen off his toilet in a pool of his own vomit. This was the same year Madonna apparently left some or other university to pursue her dance career. God forgive us.

  • Lunar Eclipse - I missed it :(

Anyone want to add to this list?
For a longer more boring one visit this page. Thanks again Wikipedia.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Geeks Belong Somewhere

Something made me log into my long lost Tickle account on Sunday morning. My profile is proof that I once believed that
  • I don't suck.
  • I think pets are in my box of things I want but can never have.
  • My most over-used phrase is MY word.
  • The perfect pizza is Chicken and Mushroom. EXTRA Mushroom!
  • My first thought when I wake up is [Regarding my alarm clock] What the hell is that sound and why does it feel like it's supposed to be telling me something?
  • and My favorite memory is the 24th of March 2005: A day that epitomised the pure fresh freedom of my first year of university.

That last one still holds. Nothing better has happened since. Nothing Bloggable.

Like most things perfect, student life is temporary. I remember the 24th of March. I remember the moment I decided it was a perfect day. I was alone. None of the people I sometimes associate that perfection with were around. There was bird shit all around my feet, a canopy of purple-blue blossoms over my head and inside it, equations, logic puzzles and Java Essentials. Perfection.
One of the aforementioned people, Nicole, had her 21st birthday last week and celebrated it by inviting a selection of unsociable people to her house to eat, drink, talk and do other sorts of social things. This might seem like a futile effort, but somehow it worked. It might've just been the trampoline she strategically placed right outside her house or the promise of free food, but for me it felt like I was a student for a night again. My feet were covered in bird shit again instead of tight black leather boots I can't move in. Conversations were about things I liked talking about and not bullshit to fill up an awkward moment with people you have to see, rather than want to see.

If perfecton is temporary, is going back to do my honours kind of like kicking a corpse?

Monday, June 09, 2008


In 2004 our domestic worker ended her own life by jumping in a river on her way to work. I don't talk about it; I don't even think about it.
She left behind 3 children, each of whom are roughly the same age as my two sisters and I. It's because of this that I've always thought of them as the other side. The people we could easily have been, if our circumstances were different. They call my dad from time to time, asking for advice and help. This happened the other day and it was the second eldest daughter who called and it was I who answered.

Can you imagine? I touched a parallel universe. My doppelganger started an internet cafe close to her house with my old Pentium 2. That's how she grew up. I think I'm still waiting for it to happen... all the while complaining about the inconvenience of waking up at 4 to do my job in all the comforts it comes packaged in. It makes me wonder how well someone like her would do in my position.

Irony of the Day:
Nearly capsized my car today on Katherine Street because a large bilboard about car insurance distracted me. It read, "BEEN IN A CAR ACCIDENT?"

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Out of the Box

It’s that time of the month again.
No, dumbass, not that time, Driver’s License Day!
Martha was angry when my signature touched the line of the box at the Centurion Testing Station at about 11:54 yesterday. As I signed, I thought of Muhammad and “Eye of the Tiger”, Shakira, her cake and the adventures of Philemon and Thohira. She clicked her tongue and gave me an eye that made me wonder whether she’s allowed to change her mind at this point about passing me.
It started with Martha introducing herself and saying, "You betta not be nevess if you are so desprrit to get your license. Shoo! Four fails! Ay, ay ay..."
I obeyed the laws of every single box yesterday. Had some Biral, made sure my chin passed my goddamn shoulder at every single blindspot, pulled up my handbrake at a stop street where the road was clearly as flat as my hair on a project demo day - all that shit. Can I forget about it now?
It ended with a thumbprint and a realisation that I’ve been silently angry for really long and it was finally over.

Observe this, losers > _|_ .....

I’ve had three weeks of working already. Can I put it on my CV yet? Does it count as company disloyalty if I say the first week was terrifying? Am I allowed to go to the bathroom whenever I want or do I have to ask my boss first? This is going to need some getting used to. Not to mention that half of your life is spent in a car. What would we do without radio? There isn’t any Circle to fall back on when things start to suck at work - not that it has, there aren’t any Jacarandas lining the building to look out at, no pawiljoen to park on and fry your brain, but it’s true that you learn more in your first three weeks than you have in all your three years at university.

It's not full of weird and wonderful people; the CS department at Tuks was a gold mine in that sense. Maybe I'll have to let go of that. I don't know if I'll find that satisfaction again. Everyone at Cyest is a rockstar at something or other, though. That’s awesome. You just have to open your month and solutions appear. Not just a "here’s how you do it but a "here’s a good way, what do you think?" kind of thing. The occasional visit from the Skywalker and his wise words, if it happens, is usually the highlight of the day. Not that working with my own boss is a treat and flatter in itself. Rockstar software architects are just as impressive.
Most people are still kind of nameless and only speak when they have something to say about work and most of the time this is ok, but some human contact would be nice :/
I suppose work is one of those places where a certain kind of masquerade is a necessity. Something I’ve always had trouble with. Whatever, I’ll get there.

Sunday, February 10, 2008


There used to be a guy with a *HAPPY* expression and cowboy hat on all the billboards you would see all over Gauteng. I don't actually know if they're still around but that would just make it weirder. One that was particularly haunting was the one right across from the main entrance of Tuks campus, at the Pretoria East Primary School. Can someone PLEEEASE help me and Alula out? Esteban, as what he has come to be known between us remains a mystery. What is he advertising? Is he someone famous? WHO IS HE?
I thought I had a revelation today while I was listening to Neil Young music (yeah, I know), but alas, it was but hopeful thinking. I shared this with Alula and now I'm going to share it with you. However, any questions concerning why exactly we speak on Windows Live Messenger, when we are in fact next door to each other in physical space - will be dismissed.

Kareema : EY
Kareema :OMG
{several nudges}
Zaheera :WHAT
Zaheera :GOD
Kareema :???
Zaheera :???????
Zaheera :YA
Zaheera :did you meet him?
Zaheera :lol
Kareema :waiT
Kareema :this is not the time to play
Kareema :its
Kareema :its
Kareema :its
Kareema :its
Zaheera :???????????????????????????????????
Zaheera :WHAT
Kareema :neil young.
Kareema :
Zaheera :OMG
Zaheera :NEIL
Zaheera :NEIL
Kareema :look at him
Kareema :those
Zaheera :SIS
Zaheera :no
Zaheera :thats not him!
Zaheera :>_<>_<>_<>_<>_< um="1&hl="en&cr="countryZA&q="esteban+billboard&btnG="Search+Images">_<

Help us out?

Monday, January 14, 2008

Sign in the Box

A good friend of mine, best known for taking credit of other people’s work and giving out random bursts of profound wisdom; the likes of which no normal unintoxicated person would’ve thought of – often unexpectedly shouts out the very slogan of this blog: LIFE IS GREAT... and it’s true! So I don’t stop him.

The first time I failed my driver’s test I made a diary entry that went a bit like, "Everything sucks... blah, blah." The second time I failed it was more "Ya, it happened again whatever."

The third time, however, was today. Today I saw Muhammad with Fatima on the road and wondered out loud like the psycho patient I am whether he’ll notice that my hair was pulled back to an obscene amount and realise I’m off to Waltloo Testing Station. Yip, I was one of those people who didn’t tell anyone about the test even though they asked over and over again. Anyway, the rest of the day went driving the same routes until I saw good ol’ Philemon come out of that Apartheid style building with my sister. Remember him, Thohira? Yes, the very same one - EXACTLY as you had described.

Philemon failed both of us. Let’s not get into a post mortem about the test. Needless to say, I bitterly regretted making fun of Philemon all through second and third year for Thohira’s sake. :(

So no, I didn’t get to sign in the box. And no, I’m not particularly fond of signing in boxes either. What’s the point really?

SO. Is life still great?