I came home yesterday with the anticipation of being home, trying to not let all the family troubles get to me, but as soon as I got to the living room and I looked at our tree, my mom sadly commented in tagalog, “Aw look at our tree, no gifts this year.” I know its been a rough year, especially these couple of months, but I was looking at the tree and didn’t care what was or what wasn’t underneath. Lets just say it was a lot different from last year and the many years before that. I reflected on my Christmases before and how long it took for our family to unwrap all the gifts, as the years got harder, the gifts under the tree got less and less, and the unwrapping of gifts were prolonged to make up for the lack of gifts. I can’t say that my family was materialistic, we just loved buying stuff and getting stuff for each other…this Christmas truly reveals that family and good food is more important that anything I will ever get wrapped underneath a tree.

I woke up this morning to the conversation of my mom and sister talking about how my brother didn’t get the google job. My mom then went on worrying if it was going to be the same thing when my brother takes his promotion. I didn’t want to wake up to family troubles…I really just wanted to just have peace at home and just pretend everything is ok. Last night my brother was talking to my mom and sister about his promotion, I was barely listening, but my brother commented on his condition expressing to us how he looks like a freak and he feels uncomfortable. He even said that his friend didn’t even recognize him. My sister comforted him saying that he looks fine whereas my mom was saying that she noticed hair growing. To lighten up the mood my brother commented on me saying I don’t even recognize him and that I should give him some of my hair. The truth was…yeah I don’t recognize him…I just don’t know how to act…I can’t even look at him cause I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable with me being uncomfortable. Before we went to bed, my mom repeatedly said to pray for my brother…

My mom has been working her ass off to keep this family alive. With her little motivation and optimism that “everything will be okay, just pray” kinda attitude – she worries a lot. She worries how she’s going to help my brother with finances and his health. How shes going to be able to put food on the table with her social security check plus try to pay for the other bills on top of that. My family is running on two incomes my brother and my mom…thats it. My mom shouldn’t have to worry, but she does…this Christmas she has a lot to worry about…I still can’t get her voice out of my head when she broke down crying, wondering what shes going to do…

My eldest brother like I said is the second one who pays for rent and everything else. He works 5 days a week and then some as a Supervisor of sorts for Frys. He’s been working there for almost 15 years and has yet got his million that Fry’s promises each employee who stays that long. Last month was rough for my brother and my family because he suddenly lost all his hair. His medicines are costly and he still doesn’t know whats wrong with him. We don’t have enough money to find out whats wrong. Hes sick, but hes still pushing through as though he was 100% healthy. I realized that he has a lot on his plate and I don’t blame him for being pissed and unhappy at times – especially now. I’m not sure whats going to happen – but I’m waiting until next month to once again help out the family. I pray he gets better – I know he will. This Christmas – I’m not sure what my brother is thinking, but he is the only person whos gotten the family at least one gift…he really doesn’t have to. =/

My sister, she has been out of a job for almost 2-3 years now. Its been rough because she was the main financial bearer for the family. When my sister had a job, our family had everything. I took advantage of that a lot…I took it all for granted. My sister is super smart and can do anything – she just can’t work. So now shes left being my mothers companion every day – helping around the house, going out for some fresh air, and doing house work. Before, she never did any of that because she was busy working. My sister is religious and well she knows she has to trust God in all this – which she does. I’m waiting for next month to help her get back to the process of everything. Hopefully she’ll have a better 2010. I’ll help her…I need to. She cooks for me and makes sure I have food…this Christmas she has a lot to worry about, but a lot to look forward to.

My second brother is the one who didn’t get the job from google. Hes well qualified and he passed the test, he just can’t work. I overheard my mom saying he was crying when he found out this morning. He had a job a year ago and that Christmas was a little better because of it, but he was laid of months later. He hasn’t found a job since. All he does really is stay in his room…I don’t know what else…he downloads movies and plays video games…but he stays in his room. I feel bad because he really needs a job cause he deserves so much more. I remember he bought the coolest Christmas presents for everyone…he was thoughtful…now – he puts what he can on the table and prepares the food. This Christmas isn’t really starting off great for him after the sad news this morning, but I know he’ll make it out soon…actually…I really don’t know. He’s going to mass with us tonight, like he always does once a year, maybe he’ll pray for something good to come his way.

Now…where do I fit in? I feel like such a stranger here…especially since I don’t live here anymore. I do my thing in SF then come here and its like I’m burden even more. I want to help them, which I’m in the process of doing by taking two jobs next semester, but even that – I don’t know how much more I can stretch myself. I mean shit, I’m graduating next year…its going to be busy. I’m applying for the masters program, I’m going to try to do well in that one class I have next semester, and do all the other extra shit that I always do. PCN is definitely not in my eye sight. I guess…my horoscope was right today, I’m best doing everything solo for now. Out of all my friends, I have it hard, for all my friends they can rely on their family for support or at least something to look forward to. If anything, its the opposite in my family, they look to me for support and hope – which I’m trying my best to do. Thats why I’m picking up work hours – 8 hrs shifts a day – mornings and closing. Even though I don’t want to work – I have to. I wish I could buy my family presents, but from all the money I made – I’m trying to pay off $200 worth of parking tickets (my stupid fault), bills, phone bills, rent, and food! I just have to wait a few more weeks until financial aid…and then it’ll be okay again…but fuck…I’ve had such a hard semester, on top of losing my job, on top of friendships be complicated, on top of my family troubles, on top of loosing my guy interest…

I’m sorry that I felt like I had an UNSO Christmas feeling this whole time…I gotta make my life worth it, I gotta make LIFE happen, I gotta do this even if it hurts me…I leave Dec. 26th – early in the morning for work. At least I get to spend time with my family for two days…at least I have a family.

Its been a hard hard year…I’m been trying my best to look at the bright side of things…but family is first, then me, then the rest of the world – and if my family ain’t doing good – why should I? I don’t think its right…I rather suffer with my family than be happy without them.

Like I said, this Christmas isn’t about the gifts that are or not under the tree – but rather the family and good food that I do have that counts…

2010 will be a lot better.

SERIOUSLY, WHAT’S UP WITH IT!? We are rolling against all other melee leather users (well, that’s really rogues. And cat druids. But still!! There’s a bunch of them! And nub ehn shamans/hunters). We just gem differently, really. I get much more gear healing because only moonkins want my gear, and even then there’s generally a nice line saying this is resto and this is balance.

But us Bear Tanks? We sit in a corner and watch everyone else get gear while we are falling behind, which generally means we have to switch stuff out and just roll on tanky stuff as OS while healing/lol MOONFARE spaming. I realize not all moonkins lol MOONFARE spam, but I’m trying to get to a DIFFERENT point. Maybe some of you are obscene gerund lucky about your rolls and you get your gear. Maybe you’re looking at this and thinking ‘Wow, way to blow it out of proportion, I get gear all the time.’ If that is you, I wish you good luck and stare at you enviously.

My guild is, -cough- a five-man guild, we rarely get more than 5-6 people on at a time. I raid in the harsh environment of guilds who need a few PuGs and can afford to be choosey and drop people. I still really need to get around to regemming, but my computer decided to corrupt the danged WoW file and I need to get around to reinstalling and repatching and guess what it’s the holiday season. But I digress. All these guilds are fair and I’ve not run into any loot councils, so I roll and get my loot. But I’m often told that my 30k bear tank is not good enough in complete PuGs, so I run healer and grab myself tanking gear that drops as offspec. It’s sad. I only tank in my guild now, and we’ve got a dps with an alt protadin who’s gathering gear. (I SWEAR WHEN I GET BACK ON I WILL PUSH YOU TO TANK EXACTLY AS YOU PUSHED ME! REVENGE! And give you a pandaren brewmaster as soon as I have a few minutes to buy one for you.) So while I always get gear from there, it is measly heroic gear and we haven’t gone into the IC dungeons yet because it’s like herding cats getting us all on at the same time.

I wish we could expand to 10-man guildishness because then I could tank more. I would love to tank more. I love to tank. But when people in the raid I’m PuGing need it for their MS, no matter that I was tanking before dual-spec when I went tree and tree is more an offspec for me, guess what. Your MS is what you are in the raid as. I’m apparently only good enough to tank naxx that no one wants to go to anymore, but I’m good enough to heal TotC 25. *Goes off to call guildmaster and talk about sucking in friends to get to 10-man size*. So the only way I can know I’ll get gear, because our one and only rogue generally heals, is guild runs. There’s generally too many other people in guild runs unless I get lucky and they’re going to something that they don’t really need, they’re just doing for giggles. WE NEED MOAR TANKING LEATHER. Not homogenized leather that you can shove at dps and tanks! Next time I’m stuck for something to post I’ll throw my OMG BEAR TANKS GOING EXTINCT WHY!?!?!?!? rant at y’all.

Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim

Friday, Muharrem 2, 1431 (December 18, 2009)

Sheykh Efendi is saying that a believer is a good one, taking care of what is for him. Today must be better than yesterday. Aim for ahirat by pleasing ALLAH (for example, by fasting) to be able to carry life’s burdens. shaytan is always whispering, driving people crazy with doubt. Don’t judge others. Keep the holy days of Muharrem special. Your life style shows the health of your shehada..

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I suppose some people would say that being brought up and living through “The Troubles” was bound to profoundly impact on any person.  For many that is true but for me personally, although havoc and chaos surrounded me, I guess doing normal things just took up most of my time.  By the time the civil right’s marches had started around 1969, I had turned 11 years of age and my days were taken up with the things that normal kids that age do.  Apart from the normal school activity, like measuring rain fall in those silly test-tubes, studying the shape of leaves on a nature trail and building a sun-dial that would never be used again, we also got to do what I would call fun stuff.

That included a small branch of a tree, some fishing line, a hook and worms and a trip to the Layde river.  The hardest thing about that was trying to avoid the gamekeeper, who protected his patch with a venom.  We quickly learned to set up lookouts and to disappear into specially built huts we had made over the months.  It used to be great fun watching him scout for us.  He knew we were there, but better still, we knew exactly where he was.  Then we had the tree swing across the river and many a plunge was taken into that, some intended but most not. We even managed to make a boat, well something that served as a boat, from branches twine, barrels and tyres.  Somehow it worked and managed to hold about ten of us without any major mishaps, except for the odd boy who got tipped over for one reason or another.

Our next favourite hobby, and this is really going to upset any golfers reading this, was to take a trip to the Ballycastle beach.  A beautiful links golf course ran along the side of the beach, peppered by tall grass, sand dunes and the odd water trap.  We used to lie in wait for any drive or iron shot that missed the fairway and when that happened, we all started crawling towards the ball through the tall grass.  If the ball was found before the annoyed golfer arrived, it was pocketed and eventually sold back to someone at the club house.  Needless to say the annoyed golfer only became even more annoyed as he declared his lost ball penalty and cursed the heavens.  Being a golfer myself these days, I now fully understand how high his frustration may have been.

One rather funny incident comes to mind, as on one of our usual money-making trips to the golf course, we came across a courting couple, who for whatever reason  had decided to set up their love nest at the bottom of one of the rolling hills on the actual golf course itself.  I would have been aged 10 or 11 at the time, so the sight of a couple kissing, and especially in public, was quite a novelty.  For us, it was a novelty and an opportunity not to be missed.  With quite an amount of guile for ones so young we made our way to the top of that hill and peered down at them, some out of curiosity and others out of some bewilderment.  Although they were still clothed, there was quite a bit of fumbling going on and I recall that caused quite a bit of concealed sniggering and laughing.  One of our gang managed to convince us that the girl would definitely be pregnant by now and ignorance caused us all to agree.

Anyway, boredom soon set in as they continued and somehow it was decided that this could be an opportunity for some “fun.”  The balls we had gathered up soon became used for something else.  Slowly the first ball was set free tumbling down the hill and rolled in between the couple.  They didn’t seem to notice that so another was sent towards the target.  A couple missed the target but eventually one of the balls got their attention.  The man jumped up, rubbing the side of his head and shouted something that ended in “off.”  He looked all around and his girlfriend then stood up and watched her boyfriend slowly climb the hill.  As she adjusted her clothing, his rather long legs clambered up the hill and we retreated into the long grass, scattering in many directions.  Just as he reached the very top of the hill, a golf ball nearly took the top of his head off.  He fell backwards down the hill and we did hear but not see his girlfriend shriek.  As we lay in hiding trying not to laugh, for fear of giving away our places of concealment, three golfers arrived on the fairway, the man and his girlfriend arrived at the top of the hill and a huge shouting match shouted.

It lasted for what seemed ages and at one stage fists were seen but not used and then the couple walked off, cursing and swearing towards the beach, and the golfers proceeded on with their game, also cursing and swearing.  We waited until they had passed and then collected up the balls and made our way back to the club house to use our sale’s techniques.  We learned a lot that day, and if you are that couple and happen to ever chance across this blog, may I offer my apologies for interrupting your enjoyment.  To all the golfers at Ballycastle, again my apologies and may your aim always be straight and true.

So although the battle lines were being created across Northern Ireland, fishing, golfing and courting continued on as normal in my wee world.

It is often quite difficult as a teenager remembering back to the days when stones and bottle hurtling through the air on a regular and consistent basis was simply a way of life.  One tends to blank these out quite a lot because naturally they were days filled with fear and anxiety, even though we pretended we didn’t care.  I think at the delicate growing age of between 12-16, you never want to show any signs of weakness and almost inadvertently, you develop quite a tough outer skin.  So it was with most of us at that time, all pretending that we were what was known in Belfast at that time, “hard men.”  We weren’t really but we certainly gave out that aura of toughness and of boys who were afraid of nothing.  The contradiction in that, is that we were also pretty fast runners.  I ran in the school team and believe me I could run a pretty quick 800 metres.

One other interesting note I should add was that the school I attended, backed on to the Crumlin Road jail.  When we were playing any sports at the running track or the football pitch, you could see the huge wall that surrounded the jail.  I always knew one thing, despite all the trouble that surrounded us, I never once had any desire to be on the other side of that.  That formidable stone wall was a very scary thing to me in my teenage years.

Another strange thing about growing up as a catholic was that they certainly did not like the idea of boys and girls mixing and so they had separate schools from aged 4 through to 18.  Can you imagine how weird that really is?  The even stranger thing is it still exists today.  If having separate schools for catholic and protestants wasn’t bad enough, then how about separate schools for catholic girls and boys.  Perhaps the catholic church was afraid of all the girls getting pregnant, and if it wasn’t that, then what other possible reason could there have been.  Answers on a post card please!

So hormones raging, male only schools, catholic only schools and a bit of rioting thrown in.  Oh yes and a few murders and knee capping and  a wee bit of tarring and feathering.  Of course we were normal

I went to this school from around 1970 to 1974 and during that time we had Internment in 1971.

Here are the actual facts of that:

The Civil Rights Movement back then continued to protest.  A ban had been placed on all marches, but in the interest of what they called civil liberty and the right to protest, those marches went ahead.  The IRA made attacks on British troops resulting in the death of a British soldier. In the face of increasing calls for internment for IRA members, it was introduced on 9th August 1971 and around 350 people were immediately arrested and interned. The following 48 hours saw violence and protests against internment that left 17 dead including 10 civilians.  Internment lasted for 4 years from 1971-1975.  In those 4 years 1900 people had been detained without any trial.  The British military intelligence at that time was woeful but that didn’t stop many people ending up in Long Kesh, and indeed the one thing it did achieve was to drive many catholics straight into the arms of the IRA.

What I remember about this was something very different.  Every night at home we watched this rioting on the news.  People running to get away on their way home from work or doing their shopping.  Watching where barriers were being put placed and trying to work out, what route the bus would take to school and how far we would have to walk, and what areas we would walk through.  People couldn’t really understand it all and I remember people on the TV like Ian Paisley shouting, James Craig talking quietly but with very tightly pursed lips and WD Flackes licking his lips between sentences as he told the horror stories on the news.  Funny the things that stick in your head.

I remember standing at the bus stop one day near Carlisle Circus on the Antrim Road when an army land rover pulled up.  This big guy came running over to us and pointed at me.  Then in what seemed then a really funny English accent pointed at me and said, “you you little F**ker, you were rioting in Andersonstown last night, you’re coming with us you little ba****d.”

The normal reaction you would think would be panic, but actually it was laughter, quite strange but true.  The reason for my own laughter was that I had never even heard of Andersonstown, never mind been there.  I know now where it is of course and have been there, but back then at the age of thirteen, it might as well have been in Africa.  Anyway, another soldier arrived or another “Brit” as they were known.  He had a huge pack on his back which held a radio and he told his colleague they had to go.  The pair of them went back to the jeep and of course our bravery instantly returned.  Several double finger salutes, and a hail of abuse that questioned their parentage followed as we bid them a fond farewell.

I do often wonder though what way I would have turned out had I been “lifted” or interned that day.  Life is strange in many ways is it not?

It was a dreadful time to be in Northern Ireland and there are many dreadful stories to go along with it.  I always remember this part well. Following the introduction of Internment in 1971, Nationalists used metal dustbin lids to warn their neighbours that the army and police were raiding in the area, and I always remember people singing a song called “The men behind the Wire,” a song that came directly out of Internment.

Then we had  Bloody Sunday in 1972,

A march organised by the Civil Right’s Movement against Internment and the ban on marches took place in Derry. In order to ensure that the march was peaceful the IRA had promised to stay away. British soldiers had put up barricades to prevent marchers entering the city centre square. A section of the marchers and some observers confronted soldiers manning the barricade. British paratroopers opened fire killing 14 and injuring 13 others. 

After this complete mayhem broke out, in and around the end of January, the 30th I think.  I remember watching the news and seeing  iconic symbols like the priest waving a white handkerchief as other men carried a bloody body to somewhere.  I remember thinking at that time the world was ending.  To others outside Northern Ireland it was probably a news flash or something they seen from afar.  For me, it was quite literally the end of the world.  I didn’t understand why people where protesting, why the British Army was here.  I was 14, I had to go to school and I realised that girls did actually exist and were quite different from us boys, and I mean different in a very good way.

That’s me for now, to be continued.

Why did the Northern Ireland “Troubles” begin?

The Northern Ireland Troubles, sometimes referred to as the Northern Ireland conflict, will be remembered by many from the images shown by the news rooms throughout the world. Anyone who had a visit to Northern Ireland during these times will most certainly remember the army presence on the streets and the remnants of burned out buses and cars.

I grew up in Northern Ireland through these so-called “troubles” and thought I would like to put my own impressions down in this blog. Many questions are asked about this period in history and it is often hard to explain this to people. To begin with I will set a little history as this helps give the context into which you can then better understand the setting and the times that they were.

I will only go back as far as 1688, when Prince William of Orange arrived in Ireland.  At that time, James II was the ruling catholic King in England and the British invited William of Orange, a Protestant prince from the Netherlands, to come and rule England and Scotland. On his arrival James fled to Ireland and at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690 in Ireland, William defeated James II. You will hear me speak of Orangemen in this blog and this is where the name derives from, Prince William of Orange. That battle is commemorated on July 12th every year as hundreds of thousands of Orange men take to the streets of Northern Ireland in various marches.

From then until 1916 there were many political debates as to whether Northern Ireland should remain part of the UK, or indeed be returned as a part of Ireland. These disputes and political wrangles finally culminated on April 24th 1916, in what was known as the Easter Rising. Irish rebels seized various strategic buildings in Dublin, the main one being the General Post Office (GPO) in O’Connell Street. The battle raged for 5 days as around 20,000 British soldiers entered the city and finally overcame the rebels, who were forced to surrender. The British then sentenced 70 people to death and of these some 15 were executed. Maxwell the British commander, shot fourteen rebels in Dublin’s Kilmainham Gaol.   The strange thing was, many Irishmen at that time viewed these rebels as little more than troublemakers yet, the sixteen were instantly raised to national martyrs thanks to Maxwell’s rash and heavy-handed approach.

There then followed a war of independence and this is when partition was introduced and two countries formed on the island of Ireland, something that remains in place to this day. From 1919-1922, Michael Collins and the IRA used violence to force Britain to negotiate.

The Government of Ireland Act was introduced, and two parliaments formed, one in Dublin and one in Belfast. One became the Irish Free State, often called Eire or the Republic of Ireland and ruled by a Dublin parliament, and the other formed what is now known as Northern Ireland and is under law, part of the UK.

Once again violence escalated as Catholics opposed the partition of Ireland. It was followed by yet another civil war and Sinn Fein started to split. The newly formed Free State Army, took up arms against former IRA comrades and in these violent exchanges Michael Collins was killed. Over 1,000 rebels were imprisoned without trial.

Eamon de Valera became the leader of the Free State Army, and split away from his republican colleagues to form the Fianna Fail party, which has to this day dominated Irish politics. After a brief bombing campaign in England by the IRA, the Irish Free State, fearing for its independence, executed five IRA leaders and introduced internment. This did stem the violence for some time and things remained quiet until the year of 1969, the start of thirty years of murder, bombings and bloodshed.

In 1969 and mainly on the back of a civil right’s campaign that had its synergy and roots with Martin Luther King, catholics held a civil protest with the slogan being, “One man, One Vote.”   The state of Northern Ireland at that time was claimed to be a state, run by protestants for protestants, and catholics were demanding to be treated as equal citizens.

The police force of the day, the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) under the instruction of the Unionist Government at Stormont Belfast, attacked the Catholic civil rights protests. Protestant loyalists, so-called for their “loyalty” to British rule set up counter protests and this eventually led to escalating violence.

The older IRA leadership was viewed as passive while catholics were being burned out of their homes and a splinter group appeared from more younger aggressive catholics and became known as the Provisional IRA. In quite an ironic move the British Army was brought in to protect catholics and were given a warm welcome. However as the violence continued the British Government working with the Unionist Northern Ireland government introduced internment in 1971. Nearly 2,000 people were arrested and held without trial, in a bid to prevent further attacks on British troops.

That move increased support for the IRA and their numbers grew quickly. On January 30 1972, British soldiers shot dead 13 men and injured 14 others, one of them fatally, during a civil rights march in Derry. This became known as one of the darkest days in Irish history and is still known as Bloody Sunday. After that, thousands of people joined the IRA. The violence poured out on to the streets.

I remember being 12 years of age and going to school in Belfast. The army seemed to be everywhere, armed with guns and driving lorries and armoured vehicles around the city streets. I remember watching the petrol bombs being thrown at them. Strange as this may seem to people reading this, it soon became a normality for us. We were given stick on badges for our school uniforms which could be quickly removed so as fighting gangs did not know your religion. I remember watching one day as a soldier fired a rubber bullet into a crowd who were throwing stones, and then he ran back to his jeep. He fell on his way back and a huge cheer went up, followed by a hail of stones and broken bricks and bottles. Sadly, this was a daily occurrence as the violence continued to escalate.

 Finally the Belfast parliament was suspended and Northern Ireland came under what was known as Direct Rule from the UK Parliament in London. I hope that sets the scene for you and I will continue on in my next blog with my own experience of the “troubles.”

If it’s one thing that I hate is how situations and problems all of the sudden become greater than the All Mighty to us. We allow these things to fester in our minds and they over take us. What we once had desire to do for God take a back seat to these ie.(debt, work, family problems, heart ache, etc….) Now I’m not saying that these things are not important to us or that the shouldn’t be, but what I am saying is that we shouldn’t take them out of God’s hands and put them in ours. When we feel a little bit of pressure there goes our trust in him. When things go wrong we question God and his purpose. All of the sudden our worship is affected and our devotion is too. We must realize that God is still in control of our lives. Remember that unlike us God is faithful and will not forsake us. In 1 Peter 1:7 God tells us that our faith like gold is refined by fire, however gold perishes. Once Jesus is revealed in these situation and problems you will know him in whole new light. I encourage all of us who are in the midst of a storm in our lives and don’t know which way to go. Trust in God is refining our faith by fire for a purpose. The purpose being that hes is preparing us so that we may fulfill his plan for our lives. I am being refined and all I can say is that Lord let your will be done in my life. I will remain in the fire for as long as you want so that I may be useful to you. All the glory and honor be yours.

The last trouble I faced on 16 December 2009 was BOYFRIEND!! Ok Ramya, so you are not the root cause.

Well the Boyfriend was not actually the trouble, the trouble was that I didn’t have anything to say. The conversation kept going dead after every few minutes and  I started sounding so bored that he decided to hang up.

Oh boy! This is serious trouble. How can I make up conversations and topics when my mind is actually blank? And no, I am not upset, not stressed, but my mind is just blank. Kora Kaagaz.

I need your help people. Tell me what should I do in such circumstances? What went wrong?

Another trouble was to find a ‘story idea’. Well it was actually Ramya’s trouble but she passed it on to me saying ‘what are friends for!’ How clichéd.

This trouble was very interesting and interactive. It consisted of a brain storming session which always ended in us zeroing on a ghost stories (courtesy: me), and which never appealed to Ramya.

Finally I came up with the idea of a girl trying to teach her dog to follow instructions and what hiccups she faces. I am still trying to convince Ramya to do it. But you see, ‘troubles’ don’t die easy.

Sometimes I feel, the root cause of all troules is ‘Ramya’. Haven’t you noticed, how she keeps appearing at scenes where troubles are concerned. Well, lets leave it at that and concentrate on trying to get Ramya do the dog and girl story.

The trouble I faced today was LETHARGY. Well, I face it many times in a week but sometimes it just gets you. I stayed put at my seat after the lecture on law (that’s horrendous), while students dashed towards the door like a fleet of birds just set free. My friend, Ramya, literally had to pull me up and drag me out of the class to the canteen.

Maybe the food will do the trick; maybe I don’t have enough energy because I had only omelet and bread for breakfast. But, even after a plate full of rice and chicken the state of lethargy continued. And to top it, Ramya wanted an elaborate fruit salad with ice-cream which meant walking all the way to metro Café and coming back.

I bunked the lecture after the (long and tiring) walk. Sat in the air conditioned library and read books. And to my surprise, after two whole hours, I was not lethargic any more.

I am wondering, what did the trick? The air conditioner, the library, the book (on radio jockeying) or some other mysterious factor which I am unaware of.

Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim

Friday, Zul Hijja 22, 1430 (December 11, 2009)

Sheykh Efendi is saying that the holy month of Muharram is entering. Year 1430 is ending. Follow someone, and become a thankful servant. If you are living for ALLAH, no attacks from anyone can harm you. Be thankful even for your body, before it fails and Azrael comes. Ask forgiveness. Change to do better. Sit and meditate, think about what you are doing and why. you are accountable for the intention behind your deeds.

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Do you plan on refinancing your home to save a few bucks? Many people look into this option today. With the credit crunch, we all tighten their belts a little. And we are looking to save as much money as we can. The chances are good that you are among the many who have bad credit. You may be wondering how your bad credit will affect your refinancing options can.

Bad Credit HomeRefinancing

To find out how bad your bad credit score is the impact on funding options, you first have a look at your credit score looked like at the time when you were first to finance your home. Perhaps it was better, it may have been even worse. Or maybe it was the same! In the event that your credit at that time was much better and it helped you qualify for a low mortgage, then refinancingnot really a whole lot of sense.

On the other hand, you may have had credit scores, which then smashed again improved and is better now, then it was at this time. But if you credit still far from perfect, then the possibility of refinancing starts to get interesting. Interestingly enough, that you should take the time to analyze and calculate how much money you save in the case of a home mortgage refinancing.

Once you made the decisionthat you refinance your home while you are in the imperfect credit, there are two options available. You can either take the time to improve on your credit score by paying your bills in time. Or do not choose, your credit score and start shopping around for a bad credit home loan refinancing plan to improve.

If you are the former, it will take some time until you reach a point where you go shopping for aPlan for refinancing. If you choose the latter, you go to have to speak a so-called B / C lenders. The lenders who are specialized business with people who have bad credit. Their approval requirements are lower, but interest rates are higher.

It is a very personal decision. Regardless of which option you decide to go through to make sure you choose wisely!

I ended up cutting myself yesterday and cut too deep.  Now I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but I needed that.  I want to prove to everyone that cutting can come back.  I just need to have a reason to cut myself.  It turns out that I’m not eligible to participate in the med trial I wanted to do because I’m on prescription meds.  That made my urge to self-injure greater even though I did have the urge to cut myself all day.  I guess that is what sent me over the edge.

I don’t regret my actions.  Why would I?  That’s the first time I ever went to the hospital for a self-injury cut.  I should have overdosed as well.  That should wake people up and realize that I am troubled.  I don’t want to stay in the hospital for my 3rd time though.  A hospital visit wouldn’t benefit me at all.  I realize that.  I’m not some idiot that doesn’t know anything!

As I’m typing this my wrist hurts and I just want to go to sleep.  I’m going to take a nap after I get back home.  It’s not like I have anything better to do.  I’ll just listen to some music and hope that I fall asleep.  I do need some sleep because of how much blood I’ve lost yesterday.  It could have been alot worse also.  At least I know basic first aid.  All I know how to do is apply pressure for a couple of minutes.

Cheryl Cole and husband Ashley have been dogged by rumours of marriage trouble in recent months. 

But as she emerged triumphant from Fountain Studios following the X Factor Sunday night, Cheryl had a clear message for those who have doubted her commitment.

Her t-shirt boasted ‘I’m in love’ in bold pink letters, with a heart and crossed arrows. She was accompanied by footballer husband Ashley, who held hands with his glowing wife as they left in the back of a car.

Cheryl was celebrating her act Joe McElderry’s victory on the X Factor, the second year in which she has triumphed. The Girls Aloud singer must also be looking forward to a break, after working flat out promoting her solo career, and mentoring the boys on the show.

Source

Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim

Thursday evening Zul Hijja 14, 1430 (December 3, 2009)

Sheykh Abdul Kerim Efendi is saying to try to understand what is beyond the grave, and be sincere about what you bringing there. If you are not sincere with yourself, you cannot hide it. Stop complaining; this means you are happy with your Lord. After hardship comes ease, then hardship again. ALLAH swt puts everyone under test. Be patient with the tests. It is easier when you are living for the sake of ALLAH.

Download (16:57 mins) | Listen to the sohbet:

My worries were not unfounded. My intuitions were accurate.
I really wish I didn’t have to appear there. My mood took for a 180 degree change.
I’ve so many doubts that I want to clarify, but is it appropriate for me to even ask?
I’m not even a somebody to you.
What hurts the most is, you contradict what you said some time back.

Heart went cold.

It’s my Birthday Tomorrow. There will be a Birthday Post.

I get I yummiliciouswonderifuleric black&white cake. YumYUMyuM!

So, I’ve heard on the grapevine patch 3.3 has dropped. I have no clue, because, hey, school is evil. Good luck with that…shoo…shoo…-cry in corner- ANYWAYS. I hear balance druids are happy or something unless they’re PvPers. And… and feral druids are just trundling along going extinct, really we are! We have to compete with rogues and–that’s a post for another time. Restoration druids have rejuv, last I checked, staying the same. (Yay) AND..I’m just sort of sitting here happy I went on PTR so that I’m not completely heartbroken over this. Maybe I can get on this weekend… Heck, get back to raiding. TotC10/25, if I’m really really lucky.. last time I was in there I got 2 tanking items and nothing for healz, sadly. Also no trophies. But I can hope. I’m going back to sobbing in a corner now, and handing it off to my shaman. who recently lvled. Twice. -walks off to corner with LotR while muttering-

….Is she gone? Hello, I’m the shaman. I recently leveled(twice) once by her and once by her friend who took pity on me and leveled me. Her initial shalt be V. Thank you, V. Do post if you want that to be edited. I’ve got pretty totems and stuff, but not much is new in shaman land, except for the fact I escaped STV, thank the elements, and ran away to dustwallow marsh. It’s boring here, but it is heaven compared to stranglethorn vale. MORDOR WOULD BE HEAVEN COMPARED TO STRANGLETHORN VALE— wait, I’ve just been told Mordor doesn’t exist in this dimension. OH well. Mount Doom, anyone? Patch 3.3 would’ve been a very happy thing for me…. chain dungeoning so that I could level swiftly swiftly swiftly, but it was not to be, sadly. And… I’m going to go follow Alienea and cry. To myself. and if you tell anyone….I’ll cast no haelz on you. Never.

When I was travelling through Ireland – and loving every minute of it! – I was fascinated by Ireland’s political history, which often left me fuming at the injustices that were perpetrated by the British state. What infuriates me the most is that people assume that Britain has improved – that Ireland’s history is just a blot of the UK’s otherwise clean slate that should be glanced at and quickly forgotten. I was really pleased to see that the Free Derry museum had been opened my Mozzam Begg – an ex-Guantanamo Bay detainee. Apparently the similarities in the torture methods used on Mozzam and those used on IRA prisoners in British-run prisons were frightening. What this trip has left me with is a sense that all struggles are one. Whether it be the fight for Irish Independence, or the struggle for the recognition of a Palestinian State, or the struggles of oppressed minorities across the world for equal rights – in all cases a group of people are told that they are worthless and that they deserve less than others. And in all cases people rise up and demand their rights. I just wish so many amazing people did not die in this process.

Anyway, to the subject of my post. I’ve decided to start a new category – “amazing women throughout history”, because the more I learn about this world, the more I am struck by some of the incredible women who have shaped history and perhaps gained less recognition than their male counterparts. So read on and be amazed by the wonderful Bernadette Devlin – in her own words “I am a feminist a socialist and a republican.”

Bernadette Devlin 

Josephine Bernadette Devlin McAliskey was born on 23 April 1947, in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. 

Devlin studied Psychology at Queen’s University in Belfast in 1968 where she was a prominent member of the radical student-led civil rights political party called the People’s Democracy – which led to her expulsion from university. 

A civil rights march in Derry on 5 October 1968 was “the beginning of it all. I can still see, in my mind, the absolute hatred on the faces of police officers. My understanding of the society I was in was irrevocably changed.” It had been organised by the newly formed Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association, to protest at discrimination against Catholics. “This was a pent-up hatred. This was naked violence. This was three or four men with long cudgels standing over someone on the ground and hitting and hitting them. This was police following those who had dragged away the injured, and beating them up as well. This was a realisation that your worst enemy was in a uniform and had the power to kill you.” 

Devlin then began her venture into the murky world of Westminster politics. She opposed James Chichester-Clark in the Northern Ireland general election of 1969. When George Forrest, the MP for Mid Ulster, died, she fought the subsequent by-election on the “Unity” ticket, defeating a female Unionist candidate, Forrest’s widow Anna, and was elected to the Westminster Parliament. By this point Devlin was still only 21 and became the youngest MP ever to serve in the British parliament and the constituency of Mid-Ulster received a record voter turnout of 91.5%. 

Bernadette, however, took an anarchist-style perspective to her role as a politician, saying “basically, I have no place in organized politics. By coming to the British Parliament, I’ve allowed the people to sacrifice me at the top and let go the more effective job I should be doing at the bottom.” 

Devlin was part of the “Battle of the Bogside,” which occurred after the Protestant and Unionist Apprentice Boys’ Parade in Derry on August 12, 1969. The riot involved taking control of the Bogside (traditionally working class and Catholic area of Derry) and erecting barricades to exclude a police force of decided bias from the area. Devlin was a central figure in urging the construction of the barricades and encouraging their defenders. 

Bernadette made her maiden speech in Westminster on her 22nd birthday, rather unconventionally within an hour of taking her seat. Here’s an excerpt in which she is replying to the Member for Londonderry (Mr. Chichester Clark): 

“I had never hoped to see the day when I might agree with someone who represents the bigoted and sectarian Unionist Party, which uses a deliberate policy of dividing the people in order to keep the ruling minority in power and to keep the oppressed people of Ulster oppressed. I never thought I could see the day when I should agree with any phrase uttered by the representative of such a party, but the Hon. Gentleman summed up the situation ‘to a t.’ He referred to stark, human misery. That is what I saw in Bogside. It has been there for fifty years – and that same stark human misery is to be found in the Protestant Fountain area, which the Hon. Gentleman would claim to represent.” 

After the Battle of Bogside, Bernadette travelled to the United States and met with the Secretary General of the United Nations. She was given the keys to the city of New York — and handed them over to the Black Panther Party. 

“I was not very long there until, like water, I found my own level.  ’My people’ — the people who know about oppression, discrimination, prejudice, poverty and the frustration and despair that they produce — were not Irish Americans. They were black, Puerto Rican, Chicano. And those who were supposed to be ‘my people’, the Irish Americans who know about English misrule and the Famine and supported the civil-rights movement at home, and knew that Partition and England were the cause of the problem, looked and sounded to me like Orangemen. They said exactly the same things about blacks that the loyalists said about us at home. In New York, I was given the key to the city by the mayor, an honour not to be sneezed at. I gave it to the Black Panthers.” 

On her return to Ireland, in December 1969, Bernadette was convicted of incitement to riot in the Battle of Bogside and she served a short jail term after being re-elected to government. 

Bernadette witnessed the events of the Bloody Sunday Massacre, at which twenty-seven civil rights protesters were shot by the British Army Parachute Regiment during a Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association march. Thirteen people, seven of whom were teenagers, died immediately, while the death of another person 4½ months later has been attributed to the injuries he received on the day. The massacre began just as Bernadette began to speak to the rally. 

In the aftermath of the event, Devlin was repeatedly denied the chance to speak in Parliament, although parliamentary convention decreed that any MP witnessing an incident under discussion would be granted an opportunity to speak about it in Parliament. When State Secretary for the Home Department, Reginald Maudling, made a statement to Parliament on Bloody Sunday saying that the British Army had fired only in self-defence, Bernadette furiously punched him in the face, yelling “Murderous hypocrite!” As she later wryly remarked, “It wasn’t long before people discovered the final horrors of letting an urchin into Parliament.” 

Bernadette’s prominent role is politics certainly ruffled some feathers. “People here said, ‘Confine yourself to our issues. And please cut your hair and lengthen your skirt. And don’t smoke.’”  Protestants were critical of her and referred to her as a “Fidel Castro in a miniskirt.” In 1971, while still unmarried, she gave birth to a daughter Róisin. She married Michael McAliskey in April 1973 and lost her seat in Parliament in 1974. They were among the founders of the Irish Republican Socialist Party in 1974. 

Bernadette recalls that this point “was when the civil rights movement ended and the armed struggle began. That was the point of realisation for me that the penalty for demanding equal rights in your society was that your government would kill you. Then you say, ‘If it’s OK for the government to declare war on the people, the people have a right to declare war on the government.’” 

She stood as an independent candidate in support of the prisoners on the blanket protest and dirty protest at Long Kesh prison in the 1979 elections to the European Parliament in Northern Ireland, and won 5.9% of the vote. She was a leading spokesperson for the Smash H-Block Campaign, which supported the 1981 Irish Hunger Strike in 1980 and 1981, though she remained critical of Gerry Adams and other Sinn Féin leaders. 

On 16 January 1981, she and her husband were shot by Ulster Freedom Fighters paramilitaries who broke into their remote County Tyrone home. British soldiers were watching the McAliskey home at the time, but failed to prevent the assassination attempt – whether by choice or accident is unknown. Michael was shot twice. She was hit in the chest, arm and thigh as she went to wake up one of the three children. 

In more recent years, when there has been relative peace in Northern Ireland Bernadette has been a powerful, if private, force in various social issues. In 1997 she helped found the South Tyrone Empowerment Programme (Step), the network of groups and campaigners she directs from Dungannon, which currently focuses on improving the lives of migrant workers. “We don’t confine ourselves to one area, such as housing, or legal rights, or water charges – we research and campaign across them all.” 

“People have said, ‘You were with us; now you’re with the foreigners.’ I say, ‘No. I am doing the same thing I have always done. It’s still about people having a right to fulfil their potential and not be excluded from that because of other people’s prejudice.’” 

“I think there are two perceptions – the perception of me from the outside which sees the north of Ireland as ‘them’ and ‘us’, Catholics and Protestants, and me therefore as part of one side. And then there is the perception here, on the inside, which is more complex and sees me not as Catholic, but rather as a socialist, a feminist and someone who has had nothing to do with the Catholic Church for 30 years except to criticise it. I’m therefore an outsider and I don’t think it is any accident that I have found myself working with people on the margins.” 

In 2003, she was barred from entering the United States and deported on the grounds that the State Department had declared that she “poses a serious threat to the security of the United States”, although she protested that she had no terrorist involvement — hinging ostensibly on her conviction for incitement to riot in 1969 — but had been permitted to frequently travel to the United States in the past. 

“When I was younger, the anger was all from the heart up. It came from my heart and it came out of my mouth. The anger has not gone away. Anger is deep-seated. It’s not all right. But it’s not personalised anger. People ask me about the things they think are most important. And I say – which is what I feel – Bloody Sunday was not by any stretch of the imagination the worst thing that happened to me. It was the worst thing that happened to others – the families in Derry, for instance. If you say, ‘What is the worst thing that happened to me?’ then 1969 to 1999 is the worst thing that happened to me and lots of other people who lived through that period. Thirty years of my life is the worst thing that happened to me. And that doesn’t get better.”

Sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernadette_Devlin_McAliskey

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/profiles/bernadette-mcaliskey-return-of-the-roaring-girl-951825.html

George Michael is a strange old bird….

Post the whole mens lavatory scandal back in 1997 and subsequently being forced out of the closet, George seems to have become obsessed with smoking illegal substances and cruising for sex on Hampstead Heath.  He also seems to be leading a sad and lonely existence. 

But then again he might be happy now. He is just living his life and prehaps there is a sense of relief he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

Anyway in a recent interview with The Guardian, George tells Elton John to ’shut his mouth’.

Elton and George fell out years ago and since then Elton has publicly spoken about his concerns for George.

Well George has had enough and told The Guardian,

“Elton lives on that. He will not be happy until I bang on his door in the middle of the night saying, ‘Please, please, help me, Elton. Take me to rehab’.

“It’s not going to happen. You know what I heard last week? Geri [Halliwell] told Kenny [Goss] that Bono, having spoken to Elton, had approached Geri to say, ‘What can we do for George?’.

“This is what I have to deal with because I don’t want to be part of that social clique. All I’d have to do to stop it is hang out in London, so people realise I don’t look close to death.

“As if Bono gives a s**t what I do with my private life… Elton just needs to shut his mouth and get on with his own life.

“Look, if people choose to believe that I’m sitting here in my ivory tower, Howard Hughesing myself with long fingernails and loads of drugs, then I can’t do anything about that, can I?”

Bono with all his pontificating thinks he has enough influence to save the world. Elton along with his husband David Furnish think they have the power to save individuals from themselves.

Hilarious!

I remember some years back singer Robbie Williams told a journalist that Elton and David had  tried to stage an ‘intervention’, and attempted to get him in to rehab.

Bono…. Elton – MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!