freshly sharpened pencils...

the old geezer took me to the island of catalina which is just off the coast of california. the idea of an island, beach and holiday resort had me think girls girls girls, california girls. but lo and behold was i in for a rather different treat.

so we catch this express water shuttle to the island on wedsnesday. took about an hour to get there. we were greeted by a little quaint 'minature' city with tiny streets and pretty little homes. it reminded me of the tiny villages of the suffolk coast in england - and i only went there to visit these white kids i went to school with!! anyway, this place was littered with golf carts hurtling in every direction. they must limit the number of cars they allow. i once used to think all golf carts were the same, but nay bru... there were some suped-up ones, some with mega systems, even 4x4 golf carts! damn

the women were such a let down. unless you're interested in GILFs, there was absolutely no talent. it was like one huge care home on an island. had me thinking i was on a geriatric asylum - just throw them away on catalina island - get them out of the way. seriously, it was so sad. one old queen on was so out of it, it was as if her dying wish was to see the island just one more time!! however, i did buy postcards and am now wondering who i'll send them to. should i really tell people that i went there?

anyhoo, the weather was great and i also hire one of them golf carts and hurtled around at top speed - not very fast. it was fun. came back to la and i'm glad to say that i survived. i wouldn't recommend it to anyone at all though. dont waste your time. there's better things to do on this planet!

last week i was introduced to the new subject in m'saladi-nomics: knowing your place. after all its whole philosophy is based in knowing where you stand in society. nobs (that's sim's sister) is an expert in this field and has carried out extensive research. her paper is due to be published soon. (in some blog!)

there are three levels in the m'saladi society:

1. italian salads
this group know their place and are well deserving of the title "m'salala". they went to the finest and most expensive schools. they speak with the most amazing accent and are cognisant with at least one other european language. (if they know mandarin, then they are really at the top!). they are very well travelled and their conversations constantly include phrases like, "when we went to switzerland last christmas.." they change cars like the weather and are not shy to splash their money around.

2. garden salads
this group think they've got it but they dont quite cut it. they think that because they have manicured lawns and freshly painted homes that they qualify to be called "m'salala". they are able to get away with the fact that they parents slave perennially to send to the finest schools but have a limited travel budget. they suffer from serious "nose brigade" symptoms and are able to fleece expensive labels from relatives overseas.

3. coleslaw salads
these people put simply are just wannabe salads. they make sure they emphasise the fact that they are "m'salala" to the rest of the world. they try hide the fact that they are just scrubs by wearing fake labels and putting on phoney accents. they walk almost everywhere but then catch a taxi 200 metres from their destination so as to make a 'grand entrance'. they conversations always include the phrase, "when we go to the K next month..." but never quite make it. they are the ones who suffer from serious identity crises.

we drove to LA yesterday, some journey - a whole 6 hours. staying in a plain hotel in pasadena - have family here - so easy access. well, actually, i met this cousin of my father last night. it wasn't hard picking him out of a crowd - like he had just got of a tshova from luveve - and he's been here for thirty years! jeepers, one would have thought that his s'khumba (skin) would have hlambuluka-ed. anyhoo, let me not diss fam! but then again wait for this....

this guy proposes to take to us out for dinner at this place which is open all night. me thinks, "oooh, an all night bar that serves food... kill two birds with one stone!" but nay, it was deep in this chinese ghetto with the most atrocious ambience. in fact, it had no ambience if you factor the guy with the stench from 3rd ave alley sat on the next table. that place was the pits! i'm sorry, i have a rep to maintain and thank heavens i know no-one in pasadena. so we sit at this table - sticky table and i decide to order a plain lemonade and something their 'buffet'. figured i'd rather pick and choose what i wanted to eat. now wait for this again.....

so this lovely cheery waitress, bubbly as a freshly opened bottle of champagne, brings the drinks over. that lemonade, ooooh, it tasted creamy! yeah, creamy strawberry lemonade. eeiuw! and it was in a pint glass and so there was no hiding the fact that i wasn't drinking it. so i had to stick the straw all the way to my throat to bypass the awful taste. that seemed to work well actually! now the food. it's 'buffet' right! now this one had a twist. bubbly princess actually brought a plate with hobos of fish, chicken and some meat dunked in dodgy sauce. and there were the cold fries and last week's salad on the side. hey, lady, i wanted to choose what to eat - not your whole bladdy menu! first after tasting the meat i thought it was lamb, then pork but after enquiring it was actually beef. what sort of cows i wonder? the chicken was just breaded rubber with lots of oil and the fish was somewhat edible after being dunked in tomato ketchup.

i really couldn't believe that we actually drove across town to this dump to eat this shit. my parents brought me up well and so i ate like a good little boy - besides my african stomach can handle anything! well........ so i thought. years living overseas have loosened my mathumbus and they aren't as agile as they used to be. my granny would feed us meat clearly green in colour (it adds to the flavour, she'd say) and we would survive comfortably. but today.....

i find myself the king of a tiny poorly lit cubicle. my porcelain throne is my crowning glory and my screams of absolute agony echo on the four walls and low ceiling. my LA adventure is full of promise - the promise of being coronated on my little white throne.

my memories of christmas growing up back home came back to haunt me today. mad rushes through shop after shop looking for the perfect bargain to spend your christmas 'money', piling into the car(s) for our family pilgrimage to the rurals, watching 'them' slaughter the goat whilst all you did was hold the leg with all your might, wondering how you'd spend the 20c (two bhobho, bhoyi) your grandmother just gave you and enjoying inch-thick slices of bread with dollops of Sun jam. the idea of a santa was so foreign.

i've just come back from a christmas party at this palatial home - a nige-zimbo home. that house! that house! it's in a gated community in the middle of nowhere with spectacular views. the grounds were so immaculate, beautiful hill with mossy rocks. and as you stand from that hill you can see Eddie Murphy's house! okay, i soon got the hint and knew my place. eight foot waterfall into the hot tub was the cherry on the khekhe. ah, man! why did i have to see that real estate.

i met a good number of people. sims was around and so we got to speak a lot of nonsense. also met a whole load of zimbos and nigerians. i introduced myself to this lovely lady with a strong american drawl in black pants and a red top; she said, "my name is Plaxedis." i didn't bother asking where she was from. i already knew. [inside joke - between you and i: i've beeen holding in this laughter all evening and i shall now roll on the floor and laugh uncontrollably. that was a very awkward moment for me]

i've just been watching discovery channel (ok ok ok, i'm sad, i know!!!) and this guy who had been attacked by a giant squid was being interviewed. when asked, "what did you do when you realised you were under attack?"

he responds,"i covered my balls!"

shitting my load! i watched this movie on tuesday "the exorcism of emily rose" and there was something spooky about 3am in the movie. it's just gone 3 i seriously just heard a door slam downstairs and i'm shitting bricks. for shizzle, real brizzles! i'm sitting in a dark room in front of a lit computer screen. i'm expecting something to strangle me or stab my back. seriously! i'm shitting my load. maybe i'm just drunk and need to sleep. if anything happens.....

one thing i miss about my small town is the price of alcohol! those who knew me in indiana, pa know that i like my drink and i like it cheap (or free!). and now here i am in arnold's terrority being terminated with exorbitant prices. PA, i'll be back!! i'm gonna have to get one of them flasks from walmart and smuggle my own shit into the darn club. they'll give me free coke anyway - and if i get there early enough, i wont have to pay cover. night out for free sounds good. [excuse me for being black - was born like that]

my legs ache, my back is sore and i cant feel my toes. all that girating at avalon [some decent but "commercial" spot here] did me good and proper. sims [another cousin from the woodwork] took me out and he turns out to be a real ladies' man. i hate him. it's like he's got some strange smell which makes them go ga-ga. anyhoo, i had my fair share of fun - the place was packed with females, DAMN. y'all need to come here now!! sims and i ended the evening with our mpantsula styles from emsansi. they all went wild! created a space for us and we just did our thing - ngaqala ngim'gaka, ngabam'gaka, manje sengim'gaka....kungathi ngiyahlanya! ayoyo! pity it was all to stupid r'n'b beats. these peeps here need an education.

kusasa, he wants to tek me to empire. asazi! maybe. we'll just have to see. but then again, sabs's mates are having a poker night and i can smell free alocohol already! only kidding, i'll probably take a bottle of my fav'rite. in fact what really is my fav'rite - i have so many!

eyiny' into futhi is that between you and i, i am seriously searching for internships here. i don't think i'll be leaving this s'dara's pad. not yet, anyway. he just hooked me up with cable in my room! okay okay, i get the hint old guy... i wont go!

A Ndebele was sitting with a Shona and a Tonga in Saudi Arabia sharing a smuggled barrel of beer, when all of a sudden the police entered and arrested them. They were initially given a death sentence but as it was a national holiday, the sheikh decided they should be released after each receiving 20 lashes of the whip. As they were preparing for their punishment, the sheikh said '' It's my wife's birthday today and she asked me to allow you one wish before your whipping , but you can not wish not to be whipped !''. The Tonga thought for a second then said '' Please tie a pillow to my back before whipping''. This was done but the pillow lasted 10 lashes.The Shona saw this and said '' Please tie two pillows to my back before whipping.'' This was done and lasted for the whole 20 lashes.

The Ndebele saw this , but before he could make his wish, the Sheikh said '' As you are from the western Zimbabwe with all the poverty and you share the same enthicity with Mqabuko, you are permitted to have two wishes !!''

The Ndebele thought for a second , and then said '' Thank you , most royal and merciful highness . My first wish is to receive 50 lashes with the strongest , toughest whip available.
''If you desire'', the sheikh replied with a questioning look on his face.
''And your second wish ?''
''Tie the Shona on my back''.

napa valley has been waiting for me all my life. yep, my uncle doused my unlearned soul into the culture of california wine and i loved every minute of it. the only wines that i'd ever experienced were off a supermarket shelf (Tesco's!! - the 3 quid bottles!!) and so this experience was a true cultural epiphany. we must have visited 8 different estates, each with at least 3 wines on offer. it was awesome and it's something i'd do again not only here but in different parts of the world. i was taken aback by the one estate owned by Frank Cappola (THE GODFATHER!) who directed all those movies from the Godfather Trilogy to Apocalyse Now to The Cotton Club to.... list goes on and on. there was a set from godfather II in one of the rooms - very striking. tasted his Director's Reserve 1999 vintage zinfandel (bottle worth almost $1000) - some experience to write home about indeed. the old geezer who was spoiling me let me drink all the wine which sorted me out pretty good. i really cant complain - a little inebriation from a touch of class is allowed. we then had a good long drive back around the bay area, through san francisco and the spectacular views into the pacific. alcatraz was one such. have to venture back there sometime soon!

the best thing that i could i have leaving pa was catching southwest.com. it was refreshing flying no frills at a real bargain too. i quite like their easy going concept of their flying experience. i've had encounters with snooty fairies on ba.com to the heavy accented mamas on iberia.com to absolute incompetence on flysaa.com. but these guys made it really happen. forget the fact that they dont serve any food - who likes airline food anyway (one loses it's appetency after the first flight).....

[have to go, finish this later]

....where was i? oh, airline food! they had the wackiest crew ever! who gets pilots that crack jokes mid-flight and pretend they are shrek? or flight attendants who play hoops with peanuts packets? it was so crazy and carefree and i enjoyed the excellent customer service. on my leg from los angeles to sacramento, i was truly starving and confessed to the lady serving me some orange juice. she returned some minutes later with loads of the tiny peanut packets and added, "don't spend the day in the bathoom all day tomorrow now!"

i got a chance to meet my long lost cousin sabs who's now pretty much based here as well. funny thing is that i don't really have any childhood memories of him (neither does he of me!) but we hit it off quickly, caught up on life so far and ended with healthy, thought provoking conversations. i can't remember the last time i spoke deeply about the some of the things in our 'speak' - it was very interesting. we are doing am open mike session at this jamaican place on wednesday. i'm a virgin when it comes that arena despite been an avid writer and a wannabe poet. i'm sure i'll getting some tickling in my brain a little listening to some original art.

uyazi, nam'hlanje ngithol' Ukhozi FM, all the way from eThekwini. ubunandi obokulalela umsakazi wesiZulu - kuyathokozisa! it's made my study sessions breeze through without too much drama and stress. it's amazing how listening to South African beats can set my mind on a good mathematical track. my neighbours may look at me funny when i girate to the s'gubhu beat. quite frankly, i don't give a damn. i shall enjoy my music in the manner that we (people from emzansi) are used to.

my semester classes should have been:

Intermediate Drama after Drinking 352
Creative Writing for Blogs 368
Advanced Dancing for Parties 501
Linguists for Sluuurers 503
Finance for Weekend Budgets 504

i wish i could detail what happened last night but i passed out and cant remember a thing. i've got tons of work to do now and just want the earth to swallow me up and spit me out somewhere far and distant.

Ahhhhhhhhh, my head aches!!

the gen and i just walked past a kwanzaa celebration in the union building. read this entry if you haven't done do already. we decided to check it out. maybe get rid of some of my cynicism. but it nothing of that sort. in fact it made it worse. at the entrance we were bombarded with flyers and leaflets (more paper for my recycle bin) and the people inside were just seated ( i think they were waiting for the food). so i scoot around for seats, find some and settle down for about 4 minutes. meanwhile, the gen was busy enquiring what was going on and what the significance of this holiday was. this girl (yeah, i'll call her a girl) whose seat was next to me, who had watched me settle down, turns and says, "sorry those three seats are taken!" why didn't you tell in the first place? the gen then quipped that the people he had spoken to didn't realy know what they were celebrating so we decided to leave. one girl actually said, "if i had to tell you what it was we were celebrating, i'd spit on it." need i say more.

i'm now watching every penny i spend as term grinds to a halt. with me spending the holidays in california, i need all the money i can get my hands on. ergo today i resorted to selling my abstract algebra textbook just so i'd have enough money to compliment my weekend drinking budget. besides, i dont really why they made me buy it for my course. dont understand a thing, didn't really use it and now got rid of it. feels like a weight off my shoulders. great, let's go drink!!

what is with the so-called african americans? i've been in this country for more three months and i have not had a single "black" experience. i'm really embarassed to say that i've had a great deal of respect (which is reciprocated) from most white folk here. by that i mean, learning about them, their culture and how they perceive themselves in the future of this country. but almost every black american that i have encountered has treated me as a second rate black person. so much for a people who think they have a proud african heritage. as an african i beg to differ.

i had the displeasure of having one so-called black american give me a lecture on africa. hang on - i'm from africa and you haven't the foggiest of what being an african means. it is the very identity that i am and of which i am proud. this person tried to give me a lecture on kwanzaa as i had been discussing christmas with a friend. right, me asks, what really is kwanzaa? apparently, i'm supposed to know what it is simply because it is a "pan-african" celebration round about the end of this month. with my matabele roots since my life, i've never heard of it. my parents have never mentioned it to me. my grandparents sure didn't talk about it out by the crackling fire outside the kitchen rondavel at our rural home. my great-grandmother (yes, she's alive and kicking) probably can't pronouce the word. but i will not apologise for being african and not knowing about this very "african" holiday.

i ask myself many a time: why the african tag on "african american"? being african is more than being just skin deep. a person's skin colour does not automatically make them african. being african is an embodiment of a person's cultural roots, values, traditions and experiences that we go through. for example, i look forward to day when i will have to pay lobola for my new wife (if i do ever find one). it is part of my culture and i embrace it to its fullest meaning and value to our society. our traditions and culture are so important in defining the true essense of being an african and do take to offence anyone who tries to tell what i should think my culture should be.

i had high expectations of black people in this country. for goodness sake we have the same skin colour. but as i go about my daily business, i cant help but notice a big social divide between african people and black american people. why is that so? is it the way we dress? or the way we speak? a part of me believes that us africans however in this country do have an upper hand because we are well travelled and have had very varied experiences in places we've been! so for goodness sake drop the african label. african american? no, you're black!

for the life of me i have to share this with you. i cannot hold it in any longer. i've been killing myself today lest i forget last night's shenanigans. after monday's complete alcoholic carnage, tuesday presented an appropriate second episode to spice up the week.

some idiot stole fh's laptop from his digs. bladdy parasites of this world!!! (we have our suspects and are watching their every move closely!). my poor friend was very depressed. - so we had to find a way to put ourselves in a better mood. stopped by sk to share the news with dris. she wasn't too happy either and was waving her arms in every direction, using every swear word known to man. then went across the road and found solace in our agony uncle. dear Uncle Jack Daniels is such a good listener. always an open ear and a wise word or two, especially after a few rounds of discussion. we lost count of how many rounds we had maybe because we weren't actually paying for the drinks. special favours from special friends behind the bar!

we got fa to come pick dris and i up to go to fh's house. by that time, we was plastered. sat ourselves in the living room and filled the room with the beautiful Mary Jane's aroma. ah was it sweet. fa even went out to pick up ay - now there's a smoke machine. stupid people then tried to teach me (stoned as hell) how to play "chor tai ti" (some chinese card game). kept on losing, maybe because i kept confusing the hearts as spades and the clubs as hearts. it was some confusing shit. dris just laughed at me uncontrollably. fh joined us way after 3am. i mean come on - there we are in his crib and he's not there. that's why his shit gets stolen. he took out his new toy - a very lovely hookah! he doesn't mess about.

for the life of me, i really didn't know where i was for a solid three hours. the world seemed lost. and we just chillin'. simply chillin'. damn i love that feeling!

woke up this morning and cursed the world. why do i have to get up? this kid came banging on my door to make sure i'd make it to class. why should he give a fuck? argh! my head aches. and i can barely open my eyes. the sun totally blinded me.

last night was pure carnage. on a monday!! went outside at about 2am for a cigarette (do i smoke?) with dik. it was freezing! took a bottle of beer down to keep us occupied. and now, another day beckons. have to kill that take home paper but first i need the energy. i guess i'll zone out for a while. do myself some good.

(bhabhalazi - siNdebele for hangover!)

it all seems to happen in a college dorm!! this evening we've been pinting it up and getting silly drunk! it's a monday evening but no-one really seems to care. why not? just one more week of school and we're gone!!

i came home tonight to find my roommate drinking away with a couple of friends. i didn't complain. i simply joined i the fun and now i find myself totally plastered. why does alcohol have this effect on me? i mean, where's the harm in drinking it? anyhoo, we end up drinking ourselves totally shitless and now we are absoloootely illegal! it's illegal to drink in the dorms. i'm in america!!! it's fucked up!! why did i come to this country? i mean it's illegal to go drink under the age of 21? goodness!!

i write this in an inebriated state - at 10 words a minute!! Bob in here has a final tomorrow - he cant walk. Dris has a paper due in seven hours, so have i!! why did i sign up for this education rubbish! Alcohol is much simpler. i'm broke but i always seem to have enuf for booze. how does that figure? dris broke her phone and she had to superglue it! what the fuck!! dik (my roomey) just hung up the phone! and he says he's fucked up.

dik is offering another 40 ounce right now! why why why? dris and i are discussing the party fa threw on Sat! we got there at 2am and they were taking out this alcohol!! it was in fh's house. we got so drunk on the vodka and sprite which was aptly placed on the kitchen counter. it was mixed as well to save us drunks from the effort!! anyhoo, dris was upstairs with fh and a whole lot of guys smokin the green shit! they were absolooootely trashed. and i'm saying that.

dik right now is calling random people. i wonder if it's legal. he now wants to smoke weed in the room! now we know that's totally illegal. dris just picked up his guitar and is strumming away. canada r just walked in. he's sober as shit! and is laughing at us. dris just left. she's had enough of our shit. poor girl. let her go to bed. the general just walked in! and popped a pepsi. sober people have all my envy right now. i still type away.... and wonder how silly i am!!

AmaPencils.....this is siNdebele for the plural for pencil. In fact it actually refers to learned individuals who have an education. them people back home in Zim refer to us as those people with clean hands..... other words we have not done any manual labour to harm our hands. having no scars in one's hands is social positive where i come from. that's really messed up.

anyhoo, will have more stories tomorrow. just stay tuned for more stories from this pencil. ciao!