So I am stuck in my apartment all day. Can’t go to uni, can’t go out shopping (though tomorrow I will have to as I need to get my rent from the atm and I need to buy bread and toilet paper…)

So, today after boiling up some edamame beans for breakfast so I could eat something before taking my Tamiflu meds, I tried to watch anime but fell asleep, until a text from Wataru about Soul Run people possibly going to Ueno Zoo woke me up. It didn’t stop me though. I simply read it then turned over and went back to sleep (after switching off the laptop I left on ^^; )
I ended up sleeping from about 12pm til about 5pm. Good use of a day, though I doubt it will help me get into good sleeping habits. Mind, I did wake up at 10.20am today instead of 1pm. Maybe trying to get to sleep at 1.30am rather than 3am had an effect, even if I couldn’t sleep.

Anyways, I have enough tamiflu for 5 days (4 days after todays doses) and I need to do something… I mean, I will study of course, since I am being left waaaay behind now, but I need something else. Something a bit more fun.

That is when I remembered Alicia Blade. One of the best fanfiction authors online, I subscribed to her newsletter and I read her blog and she is always mentioning NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month and it is from November 1st til November 30th. During that time, participants must write novel of at least 50,000 words.

It sounds fun I may give it a go, though not officially. If it is official, there is too much pressure. I’ll just do it for myself.

I’m also going to try and write more fanfiction too. I’ve been far too lazy recently.

Anyways, today was pretty uneventful, after all I did sleep most of the day. My landlady came to see how I was doing before she headed off to a concert. Today is Cultural Day (文化の日；ぶんかのひ；bunka no hi) in Japan. Despite the national holiday, ICU still had classes though I couldn’t attend.
I made myself some spaghetti with “real” Italian tomato and basil sauce I bought from the Emio supermarket in Musashino the other week. It was foul. Bitter horrible tomato flavour – worst pasta ever.
My Mam phoned me as i was cooking and we had a nice long chat. She told me what she was going to send over in a Christmas hamper though I don’t think it will arrive for Christmas because she is having to wait until my brother’s student loan comes in before she can afford to send it (he owes her board money) but the way the Student Loans Company is, I doubt he’ll get it til January. Tis a shame because the hamper had Christmas pudding and all manners of yummy treats, and also some gifts for my lovely landlady. It’ll cost a fortune to ship over though and will take a while due to being shipped by sea mail. It can take 2 months, so even if it gets sent now I may not get it til January.
My phone battery died, so I didn’t get to say bye properly.

After eating the World’s Worst Pasta, I decided to make some miso soup. I was relieved to find I had bought dashi stock and finally got round to using the kilo of shiro-miso (white miso) I bought a few weeks back.  The only veggies I had though were some frozen broccoli and some onion. I had potatoes too but was too lazy to cook them. It was pretty simple to make and tasted ok. Not as strong as what I am used to but white miso is not as salty as red miso or black miso. The dashy made it taste pretty fishy… though it was probably beneficial for my health. It was bound to be full of protein and the broccoli is known for fighting the flu.
After that I took my 2nd Tamiflu capsule and drank some green tea.

Now I am all wrapped up in 3 layers of blankets feeling nausious, with a slight headache (no fever though Thank goodness!) and a blocked nose. I might catch up with this week’s new anime episodes since I am falling behind, then probably go to sleep. Though it is tempting to start NaNoWriMo – I am 3 days behind already…

Oh joy. It is official. I have caught Swine Flu.

I put it off for so long but when I began to have chest pains and a cough along with a high temperature, I figured it was time to see the doctors. I was worried incase I would catch pneumonia in the sudden cold weather we have here in Tokyo right now. Once you get pneumonia with your swine flu you are pretty much done for.

I got dressed, packed an overnight bag (just in case) and went aknocking next door for my landlady at about 9pm. She the took my temperature, gave me a ton of blankets and drove me to Musashino Red Cross Hospital.

While there I waited for an 2 hours. She stayed with me the whole time and she even rubbed my back when I said it hurt and she really looked after me. She explained to the hospital staff, wrote the kanji of my address for me and stuff.

My temperature was 38 degrees.  My chest still hurts, I have a sore throat, occassional bouts of sneezing and coughing, a massive headache, a runny nose, I can’t stop shivering and to add insult to injury I am now super hungry. But alas, all i have is pasta and it takes too long to make this late at night.

I will have to take time off uni, be in quarantine for a few days and I have o drink a horrible powder every so often to get rid of my fever, and take tamiflu twice a day.

Joy.

Landlady gw orang nya agak nyentrik. Seorang perempuan usia 60-an tahun, tinggal sendirian, punya seorang putri yang sudah menikah dan tinggal di Inggris, selalu memakai daster klo berada di rumah, menyalakan radio sejak dia keluar kamar pada pagi hari dan baru dimatikan ketika dia mau tidur, dan kia-su.

Yg gw lihat, sebenarnya dia kesepian. Walau ada beberapa teman nya yang kadang telpon atau berkunjung ke rumah, tp sebagian besar waktunya dihabiskan buat baca koran dan membersihkan rumah. Bukan sombong yah, tp flat yang seiprit begini, gak bakal lama deh ngurusin nya. Tapi di tangan landlady gw, bisa seharian tuh klo dia bersih2 rumah.

Landlady juga jarang masak. Lebih sering nya seh dia beli mixed rice, kemudian dia panasin di mocrowave. Kadang dia makan pizza yang dibekukan, dan sekali2 dia masak sendiri.

Kl dibanding dengan Dennis (landlord gw yg campuran Belanda-Nederland Antilles), landlady gw jauh lebih reseh. Karena usia yang tidak muda lagi, landlady gw susah kl disuruh ngutak ngatik komputer. Tapi begitu pun, landlady lebih modern dari ortu gw sendiri, yang usianya tidak jauh beda. At least, landlady gw tau cara mengirim email dan mencari resep masak di google.

Kemarin, setting laptop nya bermasalah, dan dia gak bisa membuka internet explorer. Sebenarnya seh ini udah terjadi dari hari Jumat yang lalu, dan baru bisa diselesaikan pada hari Selasa kemarin. Hari Senin yang lalu, dia telpon ke sana sini buat nanya tentang masalah laptop nya. Awalnya, dia telpon singtel, tetapi singtel bilang ga ada masalah dengan koneksi internet. Dia telpon ke tempat dia beli laptop, tapi mereka bilang insurance untuk laptop mulai berlalu tahun 2010. Terakhir, dia telpon ke technical support laptop lenovo. Di sini dia baru dapat bantuan.

Sebenarnya seh, gw juga yang membantu benerin laptop nya. Dengan bantuan technician, gw yg benerin setting laptop nya. Sekitar satu jam berkutat di depan laptop nya, baru deh masalah selesai. Mengapa begitu lama? Karena gw update avast nya yang udah expired. Trus gw download-in mozilla firefox buat dia.

Ada 2 hal yang menurut gw gak enak stay di flat landlady ini. Yang pertama, kamarnya ga ada AC, sehingga agak panas klo berada di rumah. Kedua, masalah dapur dan kulkas. Din udah terlanjur menerima persyaratan dari landlady untuk tidak memasak, jadi mau gak mau, kita selalu makan di luar. Trus, dari kulkasnya yang segede gaban, kita cuman dikasih tempat sebesar satu tray di cooler. Jadi, mentega, buah, keju, minuman kaleng etc harus berdesak2an di atas tray ukuran kertas kwarto.

Hal yang positif stay di sini adalah kita gak disuruh bersih2 rumah, karena semuanya dikerjakan landlady secara gratis. Jadi, tanggung jawab kita hanya sebatas kamar tidur kita plus personal laundry.

Yah, mudah2an gw cepet dapet kerjaan. Biar bisa pindah ke tempat yang lebih baik, yang pasti harus ada AC nya. Klo ga, ga sanggup bertahan di panasnya kota S’pore ini.

07.10.2009 @ 15.00 hours

The adventures of an errant teacosy (written by Barney)

The journey

TC was all of a flutter. She had been packed in soft tissue paper by SarahMac and a packet of vanilla fudge placed beside her for the journey. Once in the Jiffy bag she felt sure that SarahMac had said something about swedes – was she about to be banished to a bleak field in the wilds of Lewis? But who grows swedes there??

After a long time she felt the jiffy bag being opened and a large and knobbly hand gently pulled the puir wee thing into the daylight. She saw a horrible man staring at her and beside him a dog, black as the Devil, who obviously wanted nothing better than to sink her (or his) teeth into Tea-cosy. Indeed, after sampling the delicious fudge (which TC has somehow forgotten about) the HM went over to the dog, which was now lying down. He placed puir wee TC directly in front of those slavering jaws and left her to her fate! TC’s heart beat faster than a para diddle – was this the end? DevilDog put a paw over little TC. It looked down at the helpless cowrin’ “beastie” – and went to sleep.

Some happenings in Sweden

When TC had recovered from the strains of the journey and her terrifying introduction to a new household, she learnt bit by bit that she was in a land called Sweden – or Sverige, as they said, and that she wasn’t about to become the DevilDog’s dinner. So she began to perk up a bit.

DevilDog was actually called Stumpan in their strange language, but TC preferred Stumpy. Quite soon she was taken to see the puppies that Stumpy’s sister had made during the spring. They were of course much smaller than Stumpy and Chiquita and some of them were a creamy colour while others were as black as their mum and aunty. Although she had quickly realised that Stumpy was not going to tear her into pieces TC felt safer with the puppies, which were more her size. TC snuggled up to the chicken netting of the puppies’ pen and asked when it would be tea-time but alas – nobody understood what she meant, least of all the puppies.

On the way back they visited a very strange, tall house in the nearly city of Malmö. It was called Turning Torso. It looked crooked and yet right in a curious way. TC wanted to climb up it, and she could see that there was a sort of scaffolding on one side which looked rather convenient. But when they came closer she saw that the building really was VERY tall and that a little TC really wasn’t up to the climb. She wanted the HM to do some digital jiggering with a photo so that she would look as if she was climbing, but HM, who was obviously stupid, couldn’t “cut the digital mustard”, as TC later confided to Saga, the daughter of the house. Anyway, TC thought the tall building had a beautiful harmony about it. She wanted to come back at different times of the day to see the play of light and shadow but HM was stingy and didn’t want to stay, or even take her back another time.

The last adventure that TC had in Sweden came a few days later. HM took TC to the “Långa Bryggan” in Bjärred, the small town where HM and his nice wife and daughter lived under the dominating paw of Stumpy. Bjärred-by-the-Sea is built on the shores of the Sound, a wide ditch that separates Swedes from an even stranger bunch called Danes. All Danes go about with a hot potato in their mouths so no one can understand what they are saying. This doesn’t stop the men all sitting around drinking beer and smoking while most of the women are busy advertising on YouTube after more interesting men to act as real or surrogate fathers.

To get back to little TC, the sea at Bjärred glitters appealingly during the summer afternoons but it is useless for adult humans to use because the shore is very shallow. So the ingenious inhabitants of Bjärred have built a long pier – the “Långa Bryggan” 570 meters out into the Sound. At the end there is a platform with a small restaurant and two “bastus”, one for men and one for women. HM asked TC if she would like to accompany him, but when she learnt that the men sat around stark naked and sweating, that they drank beer and threw cold water about the place, and that the really traditional ones took in birch twigs with which to flagellate themselves, TC blushed a deeper blue than one would have thought possible, drew herself up to her full height and excused herself on the grounds that heat and water might ruin her form. When she learnt that after getting all sweaty, and regardless of the season of the year, both men and women jumped naked into the waters of the Sound, she knew her decision was both factually and morally correct. There was even talk of “holes in the ice”, although TC couldn’t see ice anywhere.

Whilst the HM carried out his depraved rites, TC decided to watch the children bathing. Not having access to the “bastu” they were properly clad and were having a great time. TC went gingerly to the top of the steps but she resisted the temptation to take a plunge on the grounds that salt in her hair might affect the taste of the tea. When she grew tired of the children she went into the restaurant to wait for HM. It was a fresh, posh sort of joint, up-market even when compared with the Anstruther Chippy. She asked for a pot of tea to cuddle but the strange Swedes just shook their heads and made her to understand that tea was never served there! So TC went to the window and looked longingly across the Sound in the direction of her beloved Scotland. How her heart pined for home!

My heart’s in the Highlands

Not long after this, the HM packed a great bag with gear which TC recognised as the sort of kit that crazy “yachties” used around Millport and the Firth of Clyde. Her spirits leapt when she too was carelessly stuffed into a black bag along with some computer gear, a smoked Baltic herring and a bottle of Aalborg’s Jubileum aquavit, which seemed to be the local equivalent of whisky. Even when she heard the word “Turnhouse” her spirits remained high. The journey was cramped and uncomfortable as everything else in that bag was harder than TC, but she put up with the discomfort and unruliness of her companions without complaint: “once a lady, always a lady” as LL had impressed upon her at a tender age. As none of her travelling companions could get the top off the bottle – though they tried hard and long – they remained sober and therefore morose and introspective.

The first thing that TC saw when she emerged was a group of blokes poring over a chart, trying to look as if they knew what it was all about. Next day TC found herself, with no little consternation in her valiant heart, bobbing around on the Firth of Forth. Some of the chaps looked alert enough but TC’s worst fears were confirmed when on returning to port it turned out that the propeller had fallen off. Being Swedes, this made everyone even more morose than usual and TC quickly found herself in a drinking orgy. She managed to get four of them under the table; the fifth one should have fallen too, but having a military past, he had a ramrod instead of a backbone. So the camera can lie.

Now this long tale nears its happy end. A few days after arriving in Scotland the HM visited some pleasant inhabitants of the Kingdom of Fife. During the day TC had the honour of making the acquaintance of a couple of cats. The one of noble appearance even condescended to pose for a picture together with her in the lap of the HM, whom by this time TC had begun to think might not be as ghastly as her first impressions. The native called “fpu” examined TC and called attention to the precarious state of her bobble, making insinuations that were both groundless and cannot be repeated in polite society – the camera cannot lie! Let the world know that it was the fpu who arranged this shameful picture and it is to the fpu that all indignant letters, full of righteous indignation, should be addressed (copies to the RSPCTCs, please). At this point HM once again showed his low breeding by talking about “superglue” but the fpu snatched TC into her motherly bosom and declared that she would defend the wee thing from such an outrage. Finally HM left. TC felt herself begin to relax in the warmth and cosy-ness in which she was embedded. She knew now that LL was just another jiffy bag away.

Author’s Note (Barney not X333XXX!)

This work is entirely factual and any resemblance to fictitious characters is absolutely intentional.

I’m here! (and almost uptoday with my blog posting—the last couple have been a bit rushed…blah ect…)

Anyway! I’ve started school, I’ve got a room, and I don’t speak Danish!

(but that is a VERY long story, for a bit later on)

Anyhow, THIS is my room,

Not too bad eh?

The couch is pretty comfy, I havn’t switched on the TV yet. It does however have (potentially) THE raddest remote control I’ve ever encountered (picture to come).

This is the rest of the ‘appartment’….

The lounge room…..

The dining room….

The view from the dining room, and both lounges…..

The second lounge room….

The kitchen.

The situation is this. At the moment, I live with;

The Land lady, Maguritte

Her son, ???Name unknown- but he wears army clothes.

Lena- German exchange student from Berlin (also doing architecture- very nice person)

Name unknown??- Other exchange student

I’m learning quickly that there are ALOT of rules associated with living with landlady’s.

Marguritte’s rules are…..

1. no using the washing machine

2. no cooking after 7:30pm

3. Guests will be charged 128Kr a night (or $30)

4. No washing clothes in the sinks of the house

5. No hanging up wet clothes in your room

6.NO using any other part of the house except for the kitchen and the bathroom. (so im glad i got the big room!)

So, not as bad as some landlady/lord  stories I’ve heard while I’ve been here.  A friend of mine told me her land-lady informed her that even though her contract read that she has ‘access’ to the bathroom and the kitchen, didn’t means she could use the facilities in the rooms (- geeze).

Currently, I’m trying to talk her down on her guest stay price. She says she charges $ because she provides a bed for the guest. I’m thinking of buying another single bed (regardless) and whacking it together with my current single bed- making a double, i’m not used to singles!! (it might give me some bargaining power…..??)

The washing machine is a bit of a nuisance also.

HOWEVER!— Karma pulled through, and there is a great laundry mat/ cafe/ bar not too far a ride from home. So i figure, once a fortnight- i can go to do my washing, read a book, and have a nice cup of coffee. The interior is really nice, books (that are arranged by spine colour of course!)  stack up to make the counter. The people that work there are really nice also. BINGO!

SHAZAM!

Tawag ng tawag ng tawag sa telepono. Nag yo youtube ako. nag babasa ng omona. Nag reresearch tungkol sa korea. At in between doon, may tawag ng  tawag ng tawag ng tawag ng tawag ng tawag ng tawag sa telepono. Kasi ako lang tao sa bahay. Ewan ko bakit pinapasagot na pala ng telepono ang boarder ngayon? May kaltas ba yan sa boarding fee ko? Yung landlady kasi nawawala nanaman. Hindi ko alam kung nasaan. Ay eto na. dumating na.

AY MALAS.

eto inuutusan ako ng landlady. no choice ako ngayon. haii. masusulat ko ba ang fanrfic na toh? SHETABLE SHETABILITY naman.

My landlady filled the two empty rooms in my house for September.

A little bit of less than clever Facebook stalking tells me one of them was born in 1990.

I feel old.

Hi all ya’ll and thank you for visiting me here at I-am-a.fedupsteelmagnolia.com. I hope to keep you informed and up to date on all kinds of things. I can do that because I’m fed up about at least one thing or another on a daily basis.

Today, in my first Fed Up series, I am fed up being told that there’s this lady on TV that looks like me. Ya’ll know Paula Deen on the Food network? People are always saying she looks just like me and are we related.

Last year, when my husband and I went on one of those old farts bus tours, I spent the entire two weeks being called Paula. Then I had to keep telling the coach (that’s fancy talk for bus) driver, Bill, that he needed to find me a grocery store cause I was all out of butter and Michael was complaining. (My husband’s name is really Richard, but he does love butter.)

I won’t even go into the 7 day cruise I was just on, when I’d be minding my own business, not bothering anybody, just standing around doing my thing and over and over–it’s the same ole question—”Did you know Paula Deen. . . “

So, here’s what I want all ya’ll to do, you keep coming back here and reading what I’ve got to tell you and pretty soon everybody will be bugging Paula Deen and telling her she looks just like that famous blogger, Maureen Siebold, and she’ll have to spend her time saying, “No, we are not related.”

Now, that’s not to say I don’t just love Miss Paula to pieces. Have ya’ll ever tried her banana pudding? Lord, after the first mouthful you’ll swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. And, please, don’t’ get me started on her Gooey Butter Cakes, those things just melt in your mouth.

Miss Paula and I do have other things in common, but unforturnately for her, I leave her in the dust. She has two very handsome sons, but I have three; she has one cute as butterbean little grandson, but I have four. And I can go her one better, I have a beautiful daughter and two of the most adorable grand daughters in the universe. (Let’s not tell Miss Paula about my two precious baby great-grand sons, okay, she’d probably get to crying and feeling sorry for herself.  And then we wouldn’t get to hear that fantastic laugh she has–which by-the-way, I laugh right out loud too, even when it embarrasses my family.)

I speak my mind, just like Miss Paula does and just like her I don’t put on airs. I am who I am, and what you see is what you get, as the old saying goes. While Miss Paula is in her kitchen cooking up recipes that are out of this world, I’m down here cooking up trouble for all these knuckle-headed politicians in Washington, D.C. While Miss Paula is turning up the heat under her pots and pans, I’m busy holding these guys and gals feet to the fire for the mess they’re making of our country.

Now, I’m Southern, and proud of it, and I know we succeeded from the Union once and that didn’t work out too good for anyone, but, like my ancestors, who were Scot-Irish, I love freedom. If things don’t start getting better in D.C. I might just join the lunatic fringe and start promoting succession.

By the way, here’s just a little bit of Southern History, for those of you not blessed enough to have been born here in our beloved South. Most of you probably think the “Great War” was WWI. I hate to be the one to tell you, but you have been misinformed. The “Great War” was the War of Northern Aggression, known to some as the Civil War, but down here we’re all aware of our history. we learn it at our mother’s knees. However, don’t worry, I’ll bring all ya’ll up to date on your history lessons every once and a while.

Plus, with such a large family there will be days I’ll be fed-up about all their goings on, not to mention–all you women out there reading this–just stay tuned for the days I’m fed-up with this husband of mine.

My first landlady, right after we got married, told me that the only difference between men was the color of their hair and eyes. I’ve been married for 44 years and I can truly attest to the fact that every word out of that woman’s mouth was the gospel truth, so help me God.

Well, I’ve taken up enough of ya’lls time today, but all ya’ll have a great day and come on back now, ya hear?

My media life these days are kinda blunt because of the fact that we are having problems with our cable TV.  This in turn results in a certain kind of boredom – no anime, no TV movie premieres and definitely, no evening news to ponder the rest of the night.

I usually go home over the weekends to watch TV because we don’t have one in the boarding house where I currently stay during weekdays (for school).  So I really expect some good time in front the TV during Saturdays and Sundays, but lately, my weekends are foiled with cable problems.  I surely hope my brother can do something about this.

My friend says that it’s no good paying the cable TV when we’re having cable problems and we couldn’t really enjoy what ought to be enjoyed.  So she in turn shared the convenience and the comfort of having Directtv service and installation – she says that you really won’t have problems with the Direct TV service.  And I certainly agree with her, after such frustrating service.

Everything is really up-to-date and convenient these days, with the advent of fast-paced technology – comfort and satisfaction are just two words that are prioritized these days.  And for us consumers, when we come across with services that are worth it, we always end up in sharing the good news to others.  And this Direct TV Service is just one of those.

If you come home from busking, home usually means…

• The home of your parents, who have tried to kick you out for 6 years

• Your secondhand car

• A trailer park

• A smelly little room above a smelly old landlady

• This week’s girlfriend’s mini-van

• A college campus where people think you’re really a student

• A weed smoking friend’s hide-out

• The appartment of a 52 year old divorced woman expects you to have sex with her

• An abandoned warehouse you share with a drunk madman who collects rat droppings

So a lot has happened since last week it seems. My latest news is that I’ll hopefully be moving to a nicer place in the very near future. I met a girl at a cafe on Monday who is from the States (went to Columbia, now in med school at Michigan, we know some of the same college people, etc) who I hit it off with and is really nice. Turns out she lives in a neighboring area where she stays in a house with just one other young guy and rents a room from him for the same amount I pay for my place. Here’s the catch: she has wireless, a tv/cable, a radio, a washer, and a normal person to share a house with (instead of the crazy landlady I’ve pretty much come to avoid now, even though I don’t actually share a room with her). The girl has been here for 6 weeks and is leaving in 2 weeks, 2 days before I get back from Grahamstown/Cape Town. SOOOO she’s gonna talk to her housemate and if he doesn’t have any other plans, I’ll move in upon my return from my trip! I’m really excited and really hope it works out.

In other news, I leave for Grahamstown tomorrow afternoon for an overnight bus ride to the Festival. I just received my Rhodes (University, where most people stay) booking confirmation, which is comforting to say the least since I only sent in my request for accommodation on Friday and honestly, that was a bit to late to even assume they wouldn’t be full. I’ll be staying in a dorm basically and receiving a Bed/Breakfest services as well as, hopefully, wireless, all for only R230 a night, aka ~$30. Good times.

Other fun things to note: I went to an Afro Jazz club on Saturday night (after staying in bed, literally, all day Saturday watching movies and reading) where I finally met the guy who set up my housing accommodations now – Kenichi. He brought a friend, Xoli, who it just so happens, just graduated from Rhodes in Dec ‘08 and still has friends there. Because of her recent grad status, she still has friends there and knows all the cool things to do when the Festival is in town so she’s going to email me and tell me everything that I should make sure to do while I’m there. I love making friends .

Let’s see, what else. Oh. Yesterday I went to the Zoo with Sasha, from Stanford, and her friend, a South African 25yr old who lives in Joburg somewhere. IT was really cool to see a familiar face, most definitely. However, I’m not sure I can really appreciate a zoo as much as I once did. After having been on a safari and driving next to a giraffe when I went to Kruger National Park last year, the animals look perpetually sad and just completely out of place in the zoo enviornment. Oh well, it was still a good time.

I’m writing this post in a bit of a rush because I’ve made plans for a taxi to come fetch me at 3:30, in 23 minutes, to take me to Adey’s house where I’ll do my laundry so I can have clean clothes before Grahamstown. She is about the only person I know who has a dryer since most people here just hang their clothes up on the line to dry, which i don’t really have time for, so hopefully this goes fairly quickly and I get there and back safely today. Also, I have still yet to buy a coat. I don’t know why I haven’t done it yet. I’ve only heard grave reminder after grave reminder about how much colder it is in Grahamstown (and I’ve been complaining for the last week about how cold it is here in Joburg – anywhere from 32 to 50 degrees lately) so I’ve been meaning to buy this coat for almost a week now. Hopefully I’ll be able to get it done tomorrow morning. Anyway, I still need to walk the 3 blocks back to my place to get my laundry so I’m gonna peace. Next time I write will most likely be in Grahamstown so buh bye until then.

Love,

JayInTheSouthA

Saturday I watched the rugby game which was chill. Sunday (today) I went to church & met a bunch of random people, also chill. Tomorrow is my first day of work. I start at 9 (ugh) and work till 5 (ugh again). I’ve never had a 9-5 job. In the states, theater really isnt a 9-5 job unless I work @ a university or somethin where everyone else operates on that time, but even then, not really. It should also be an adventure getting to work. I have friends who looked up the busses for me but actually doing it will be a task in itself. Wish me luck ne.

At work I’ll just be loading in the next show they’re putting up called In the Blood.  It’s actually premiering at the Grahamstown Arts Festival so that’ll be cool to see it there. There are just a couple previews here and then they take it there in about a week & a half. I think I’ll have internet at work but I probably won’t take my computer until I know if its there or not.

Today I walked to the shopping center up the road after I took a nap after church. I intended to buy some more minutes for my phone and get some tea, since i have a slight cold, but the center/mall was closed. Boo to that. Instead I went across the street and had McDonalds lol. Tasted mostly like home. Had my regular: two cheeseburgers, fries & a McFlurry. Then I came home and now I’m using the computer in Mattie’s place. lol she has dial-up. Seriously, the last time I used dial-up? NO idea. Oh well though, its internet and I’m grateful.

Last note: she (landlady) has started giving me random things like one of her old shirts and a sleeping bag. That would be fine except I pretty much have everything I need, not to mention she’s quite a few sizes larger than me so I could never possibly wear anything she would give me. And on top of that, everything she gives me smells like a mix of my grandma’s house and her two dogs. In case that’s not a familiar scent to you, lets just say its not all that pleasant. My bed especially smells like my grandma’s so instead of being annoyed I’m trying to think of it as something that reminds me of home. Hopefully you can see how desperate that is… but its also me trying to make the best of things so hopefully that’s semi-clear too.

Anyways, I’m still really tired since I haven’t been getting that much sleep (I stay up late to talk to my family at night and have been going to sleep between 2am & 4am) so I’ll probably sleep soon. It’s 7:30 now so by the time I get my things ready for tomorrow and read and stuff, it’ll be time to sleep. Here’s to waking up at 7am for my first real job!

Love,

JayInTheSouthA

P.S. Thanks to all those who wrote on my wall/commented here/texted and helped me feel better when I was lonely. It’s getting better thanks to you all. And on that note, feel free to comment on my blog a bit more. I know you guys read it in theory but I have no way of knowing what you think, if anything! So leave me notes, pretty please; they make me happy

SOMETIMES IT’S GOOD. When all the rent checks roll in promptly on the first of the month, and there’s a long spell without broken appliances or electrical issues or, God forbid, rats.

Sometimes it sucks. I must make it look easy, because recently someone said to me, don’t you ever have plumbing problems or roof leaks?

Of course. All the time. And worse. Old buildings need frequent maintenance and repair. We’ve had flooded basements and frozen pipes. A few years ago, we rebuilt the entire back wall of our 180-year-old building in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. The rear facade was peeling away, chunks of brick and window lintel falling into the backyard. We took out a home equity line of credit and hired an engineer and a contractor, who set up scaffolding, draped the building in blue tarp, and rebuilt the back wall brick by brick, replacing all the windows. All the tenants lived through it, by their choice (crazy!)

Mostly I love being a landlady, though the word suggests fuzzy slippers, hair rollers, and a feather duster. Things happen, and I address them. Quickly. I want my tenants to pay the rent lickety-split, so I fix things lickety-split. I’m getting better at it as I get older, partly out of a kind of maternal instinct. I have mostly youngish tenants, and I want them to have a nice place to live. So I try to take good care of them.

Right now the flagship of my real estate empire, a four-story 1850s mews house in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, is vacant. The last tenants, a Hollywood screenwriter who set up shop there with his family while working on a TV show, decamped last week, leaving behind a lot of garbage and dog damage, along with unopened bottles of very good vodka and wine and an array of cooking pots better than the ones I have. (Departing tenants leave very strange things. Once a woman left her parents’ wedding album and some gold jewelry.)

I spent all day yesterday, from 8:30AM to 5PM, taming the jungle that is the back garden in Cobble Hill and getting the place ready for the painters, who started today, and the housecleaner, who’ll follow the painters. I have the place listed with six real-estate brokers.

It makes me sad to see that house, where we lived for 20 years and raised our kids, empty. Soon it will be another family’s temporary home. They’ll live in it for a while and then move on.

I may not live there any more, but it’s still my house. No one could love it as much as I do.

This film is about Canton China in the 1940’s where the Axe Gang rules the land except for Pig Sty Alley. Pig Sty Alley is a poor apartment complex, it is so poor that the gangsters simply ignore it.

This is until an aspiring gangster gets their attention and brings the wrath of the axe gang to the apartment complex. It just so happens that the landlords and residents of this complex have special Kung Fu powers and battle ensues for the control of the area.

This film is quite humorous, it is a tongue in check exaggerated portrayal of the best of Kung Fu in a respectful way.

The Landlady and her husband are hysterical. Never mess with a landlady in curlers in Canton China. She always has a cigarette in her mouth even when she is fighting.

Just about everybody in this movie has some kind of Kung Fu Special Powers. The leader of the Axe Gang has super frog jumping powers, while the harpist assassins use their special harps to unleash deadly attacks at the speed of sound.

I love this film because it is so much fun to watch. The action is incredible, it has great humor, and the English overdubbing give it just the right character expected in a film of this genre.

Our next-door days are numbered. I will be moving house soon and then my neighbour will be my neighbour no more.

I’ve actually been dreading to tell him, worried that telling him will make him more adamant than ever to have me over for dinner. But as the day approaches there’s no beating around the bush anymore; there are people coming to see my apartment, and I break the news gently.

“I see, I see…” he says, pensively stroking his bare belly and taking a swig of his beer. “You know, I can’t blame you. She was in here again, you know, that thieving landlady of ours. Stole several of my things. Won’t be long before I leave either, I’m not stupid. No, I ain’t.”

He lets out a sigh.

“Anyway, I thought you should know,” I say. “Some people are gonna come over to see the place tonight.”

“Well, good for you man. Just make sure you give me your new address.”

He goes back into his apartment, and I figure I got off easy enough. I’ll weasel my way out of giving him my new address one way or another. I’ll find a new tenant and bring an end to our era.

My doorbell rings 8 o’clock sharp, and I’m all ready to let the first visitor in. I check our hallway and close my neighbour’s bathroom door. It’s just not the best first impression to give off when you’re trying to convince someone to move in.

She turns out to be a pretty young black girl who’s brought her little brother along. We’re halfway through introductions when my neighbour swings his door wide open and sticks his half-clad self out of the doorframe. He eyes the girl up and down and whistles in appreciation. Wonderful.

I quickly coax them into my abode and close the door. “Never mind him,” I say. “This is where the place starts.” I show them around the flat that I spent hours cleaning until it sparkled. I’m willing to bet that they’ve forgotten all about that little run-in with my neighbour after they’ve seen what a nice apartment it is.

There is however another apartment available just upstairs, and as I lead them out of my quarters, I notice that the bathroom door is open again. As we pass, my hope is flushed. There sits my neighbour, still shirtless, his pants around his ankles, yelling “Helloooooo!” and waving with the one hand that isn’t holding the toilet paper.

I’m moving house, but it won’t be today. This changes nothing though. One way or another, our tale is coming to an end.

Haruma Kawagoe es solo un niño. Hace un tiempo, en época de Navidad, su madre perdió a un niño que iba a su hermana. Esa noche, el pequeño Haruma se arrodilló y ofreció una sincera oración: “Por favor haz que mi madre se sienta bien otra vez, y por favor dame una hermana pequeña”. Años han pasado, y Haruma ha olvidado su oración. Pero Papá Noel no… Una Navidad, cuando Haruma menos lo esperaba, tiene una inusual presencia – su hermana.

The story centers around a Christmas wish made by Haruma Kawagoe after his mother had suffered a miscarriage, followed by an operation which prevented her from having any more children. Several years later, when Haruma is a college student, a woman on a flying motorbike claiming to be Santa Claus delivers his wish, a younger sister. When he remarks that he made his wish a long time ago, “Santa” replies that making a little sister takes a lot more time than just making an android, takes his signature for delivery, and departs. Haruma now has a little sister, who comes with her own instruction manual—a manual for how to be a little sister, that is. When she asks him to name her, he calls her Choco, which refers to the Japanese word for “manual”.

Si Cora. Ang may ari ng Talyer to Go at Kainan Max.  Taohan niya si Panday, ang latero.  Siya din ang landlady ni Kris.  Kapitbahay ni Cora si Mike na kumpare ni Kris at Panday.  May alagang asong si Poochy.