Archive for March, 2013

If you like “Butters”, you’d ♥ Pon

For more Pon & Zi, go to deviantART, The Pon & Zi Collection or Fan pop.

March 31, 2013 at 8:37 pm Leave a comment

Definition & derivation of “minsanity”

min·san·i·ty
noun \min-ˈsa-nə-tē\ , [mee-in-san-i-tee] ,  {mai-in-san-i-tee}
A portmanteau of “My” and “Insanity”

Definition of MINSANITY
1: doing self-destructive things over and over again and expecting constructive results.

Examples of MINSANITY

· Meeting guys on/from dating sites. Guys you find out quickly that, although meet the outward critereas you set forth, do not seem ready or willing to offer what you are looking to buy, so to say.

· Ignoring red flags. Not getting out of it after you’ve seen all the wrong signs and told yourself to “get out of it while you still can”.

· Getting into a “relationship” with the said person. Sleeping together too soon. Working your time around their schedule. Making their call, email, text the brightest spot of your day.

· Being upset when the said call, email or text don’t seem to come [or as often]. Being impatient and cuing all contacts.

· Refusing to let the person explain. Being unwilling to accept their applology. Thinking that feeling, the “Good riddance. They weren’t the one I were looking for anyway”, would linger.

· Obsess over the potential of the “relationship” when feeling lonely.

· Calling said person back and giving them another chance, losing the little power you had in the process.

· Thinking maybe you were meant to be together now that you had crossed THAT bridge, ward off that storm. Starting to reweb those emotional webs around them. Dreaming the dreams.

· Putting up with it when they start abusing their new found power. Giving them second chances and “benefits of doubts” they neither want nor deserve.

· Going after them when they, for no apparent reason, seem to disappear. Demand explanations and/or stalk them by:
– Befriending them on facebook using a different name
– If they were bloggers, reading their posts obsessively.
– Tweeting stuff connected to them in the hope that they would respond, feel bad, come back.

· Going through the 5 stages of loss/grief:
– Denial [“Never need them anyway!”]
– Anger [“After what I’ve put up with!”]
– Bargaining [Offering to just be friends]
– Depression
– Acceptance

· Telling yourself that you will never let yourself go through this again. Shooting down prospective others who even remotely resemble the ones you just broke up with.

· Having the itch, the hope, the “surely.. there must be one person out there who is like me.. been through what I have been through.. would see that I am how I once saw myself as”.

· Letting your guard down.

· Doing the same thing over again, expecting a different result this time.

Antonyms:
· The ability to change one’s ways when they don’t seem to be working, learning from one’s mistakes, have the ability to walk away and stay away.

Origin:
Albert Einstien; < Latin minsānitās.

Additionals by:
A woman who found out last night that she was figuratively, literally and in all other senses of the word bonkers!

March 30, 2013 at 7:50 pm Leave a comment

Miss Saigon, she so horny

I’ve held a grudge against Asians in general, and Chinese women in particular [except Cambodians and Filipinos, the “non-Asian” South-East Asians, who I have friends from and marriages with] ever since a Chinese home-owner refused to rent me a room in his government-subsidized apartment because his young wife had told him he can’t rent it to people who weren’t “Chinese peepo”. I didn’t stay long enough to look into his religious convictions. Infact, I have only made it as far as observing that the wife of his buying didn’t speak English and there wasn’t a toddler eating dirt out of the carpet no one was allowed to step on without taking their shoes off that first time I visited their abode. But the powers that “cause the position of the planets, the music of the spheres, the flap of a tiger-moth’s diaphanous wings in Central Africa, and a whole bunch of other stuff that Makes Shit Happen” must have decided to play the Karma card on him then and there. Because a year after he sent me a-packing with my deposit intact and no lease, I came across him begging passers-by to help him push his broke-down car out of harm’s way. I was sitting in the bus, with the driver for company, three stops before the terminal. “I’m driving the bus, and there is only a young woman here”, said the Metro-guy to my would-have-been-Land-lord when the old faggot begged him to lend a hand, “So you gotta find somebody else to help you or push it yourself”.

After the bus was able to move out of the jam, and the old man was safely behind us, I cleared the throat. “I’m glad you didn’t ask me if I could help.” I said “Because I would have passed him by if he was dying in the street. That guy refused to rent me his apartment because I was black!”.

My story first out-raged, then pleased the driver who was, I might add, as white as a polar bear with a sun-burnt face liver-spotted here and there. After telling me I should have reported the Chinaman, or done things to him that only a chosen few need know about, he added now he was glad he didn’t go out to help him. “What goes around comes around, buddy!!” were his final words.

So when I came across the blog Stuff Eurasian Males Like, and the following post in particular, I couldn’t pass it up :-). Yes. I am a mean-spirited small person who hold one man’s ill-deeds against a whole race and enjoys laughing [creating posts on blogs she has no intention of maintaining, as well as sharing the joke with readers at the expense of] people she considers her “enemies” (I.e. Chinese women and East-Indian men – the latter for their distasteful accent)]! Not to mention how self-hatred has always been a strong aphrodisiac to me. I can’t resist a person with it, or their article.

Enjoy. (more…)

March 25, 2013 at 2:01 am Leave a comment

Ms. Cellophane

Three Minute Fiction – Round 10

Challenge: Leave A Message After The Beep

It’s Round 10 of Three-Minute Fiction, the short story contest from weekends on All Things Considered. Here’s the premise: Write a piece of original fiction that can be read in about three minutes (no more than 600 words).Our judge for this round is author Mona Simpson, whose most recent book is My Hollywood. She most recently won a Literature Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, among other prizes. Here’s her twist for Round 10:Write a story in the form of a voice-mail message.”It doesn’t have to be crazy, but it could be crazy. By nature, first person — basically, a soliloquy or a monologue,” she tells Guy Raz, contest curator and host of NPR’s TED Radio Hour.

“It could start out, ‘Hey, it’s me, I’m glad you didn’t pick up,’ or it could start out, ‘You don’t know me, but …” It could be any number of dramatic scenarios which will unwind in the three minutes,” she says.

My submission: (more…)

March 18, 2013 at 3:56 am 2 comments

iTuned

I may have mentioned how I am not a very musical person. Giving, or receiving. In my defense, these were the worst of times and the worst of times for my country. Our choice of entertainment lied in either “gidel teGadel” or “Eshet Qorto laake leAbiyotawiw meri”. Hibret Ti’ryit didn’t have much of a “ti’riyit” to it until “Hizb lehizb” materialized and we get to watch the rest of the world’s reaction to what was ours; over and over again. The rest remained the same. The news was bad. The movies were bad. Even the books, with rare short-story exceptions such as “Shilingen” and “YeEmet Taye Engurguro”, were Maxim Gorky [“Enat”] type.

The one thing we had; the one man that made our weekends bearable, was Hailu Tsegaye. Who, with Jemanesh Solomon, Kurabachew Deneke, Getahun Girmamo and a couple of other fabulous radio-actors brought to us dramas of the supreme category on “Qidamen Landafta” and “Ehudin Kegna Gar”. He wrote/co-wrote and acted in those dramas, and they were all good – indiscriminately.

So, yeah, I grew up preferring “Qededa” – wore, tewnet, tireka – to singing and dancing. I wasn’t a fan of music even after I started going to the Protestant Christian Church in “Shiro Meda”; a church that was accused by non-Protestants of drawing people from all walks of life through its magnificent use of gospel songs. I sang along. I “mashebsheb”ed along. I clapped the hand, worked the trouser muscle and did everything expected of a “Merry” and “[of a] cheerful mind” person – “des yalewu yizemir” yilalina metsihafu. Deep down, though, I was fidgeting with my internal watch, nudging them to get on with it and get to the “sibket” part. And if you, like me, were a student of the human behavior, there would be no such thing as a “bad” sibket! Even when you suspect “Wondim” or Pastor Ekele may have heard a neighbor the day he thought he “got” the “call”, you will get to learn something. It’s either good, or entertaining – nothing in between.

Then I came to America. (more…)

March 6, 2013 at 10:10 pm 5 comments

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