Hello world.
I'm just gonna come out and say it: Quite frankly my blog and I are feeling rather neglected these days. I was talking to some friends the other day and they were all “oh yeah, I haven’t read your blog in a while”. And on the outside, of course I was all cool and collected like “oh, that thing!” but really I died a little. I actually went in to a downward spiral of circular thoughts and innate ideas (just learnt that in history! Even though It’s most probably out of context) wherein I was thinking ‘if my friends, who I see on an every day basis won’t even read my blog why would anyone on the world wide web want to? Why do I exist? Ahhhh!” I realised that this is sounding rather desperate and pathetic so do me a favour and imagine the entire thing in the voice of a character from Teen Girl Squad. If you don’t know what Teen Girl Squad is we can’t be friends (although not really, ‘cause I’m desperate here guys!) If you are reading though, post a comment, or send me a message (can you do that?) or better yet, tell all your friends I'm cool!
I couldn’t think of anything particularly funny to post because I have recently got myself addicted to some pretty great vlogs. Well, two really, but still... I find the video much more enthralling than my boring text and the stream of consciousness (now I’m throwing in some English vocab! I’m such a nerd) is much funnier. Anyhooooo on a lighter note! I love orange juice. Yeah, I said. Except... there’s a catch. I actually don’t like any orange juice that isn’t fresh squeezed. Sorry, I’m an orange snob. I just find drinking it out of a box or a carton or whatever you want to call that is so unnatural! And any thing that comes out of a box and has ‘pulp’ is worrying if you ask me. That being said a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice is my favourite thing ever. Once I had a ridiculously bad day and I came home to find fresh squeezed orange juice and suddenly I was happy again. Is that sad? It is kind of sad, but that doesn’t matter because no one is reading this anyway! :P Seriously though, fresh squeezed orange juice is like liquid heaven. Yum ☺
Monday, November 15, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Daylight Savings Time
Let me tell you a story.
For those of you that don’t know I live in the Caribbean, namely Trinidad and Tobago. Now, something about Trinidad and Tobago is that, come winter, TIME DOES NOT CHANGE. Before I lived here I lived in Holland with my mother, where, like most other places in the world, every winter the clock is set back an hour, and in summer it’s set forward. This, however, does not happen in Trinidad! My father did not seem to know this.
Every morning I set an alarm to wake me up for school, I usually turn this off and go right back to sleep though so my dad has to come in and remind me that I must get out of bed and shower so that I don’t scare away all my friends in school with my just out of bed look. Tuesday morning my father did just this, waking me up asking what I want for breakfast. Having gone to bed at 1am that morning I was extremely tired. Don’t ask me why I felt the need to watch Baz Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet on a Monday night but, given the opportunity, I would do it again! Anyway, my father asked, as he does every morning, what I wanted for breakfast. The following conversation ensued:
My father: “Time to get up. What do you want to eat.”
Me: “MmmmmIdunno!”
My father: “Do you want an omlette?”
Me: “NO!”
My father: “Ok, no need to sound so unenthusiastic.”
Me: “Mmmmmsorry.”
My father: “Well what do you want?”
Me: “Just do the cat.”
My father: “What?!”
Me: “The Kitten!!!”
My father: “What?!!”
Me: “…..Mmmmnevermind. Just gimme a waffle pleease!”
My father: “Ok, now get up.”
Me: “Mmm.”
Now, I feel the need to mention here that we do not in fact own a cat. My sister has a kitten but they both live in New York so she was safe from my breakfast cravings. After this exchange I managed to drag myself out of bed, avoiding the mirror so that I would not scare myself, and made my way to the bathroom. On the way I had to turn on the lights, a usual necessity as showering in the dark would be hazardous in my morning condition. This particular morning, however, I managed to miss the light switch and walk straight in to the wall. I was a little dazed, annoyed that the wall had hit me in the face, but got into the shower. Twenty minutes later I got out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom. The sky was pitch black. I stood there for a moment, observing the sky with sheer disbelief, thinking ‘I didn’t think it ever got this dark here at Christmas. It wasn’t like this last week, how does this change so quickly over one weekend?’ This should have been my first warning. Instead, however, I carried on with my morning ritual.
I did my hair, managing to tame it in my morning stupor, put on my uniform and ate my waffle (sans cat). My dad started to rush me, saying I would be late to school if we didn’t leave the house in ten minutes. So we did. Ten minutes later we were on the road and for the first time I looked at my clock. Meanwhile my father is saying “Wow, it’s really Christmas time now isn’t it. Look how dark it still is!”
Now, in the morning (as I have already demonstrated) I am quite inept. I am not, however, as ridiculous as my father. After checking the clock on my phone I turned to him and asked him, casually, what the time was. He looked at the clock in the car and paused. “It’s… My phone says it’s ten past seven.” To which I responded “My phone says it’s ten past six. Daddy why is there no traffic on the road?” Here he paused again. “Oh… the car clock also says its six.” By this point we were half way to my school and I was fighting to stay awake in the car. “Call my office,” he says (his brilliant solution) “and ask my secretary what time it is.” I did this, almost wishing I hadn’t when his lovely secretary confirmed for me that it was, indeed, ten past six in the morning. I AM NOT USUALLY OUT OF BED BY TEN PAST SIX IN THE MORNING. A couple minutes later we pull up outside of the school. I saw the security guards changing shift, as the night guards went home. My father burst into laughter and I burst into tears. I got out of the car and dumped my bags outside the reception. No one was there. I have never seen my school so empty. I made my way to the gym, luckily aware that some of my friends on the volleyball team went to school early that day to practice (crazy girls). I walked into the gym, startling them all. “Why are you here? What time is it?” one of them asked me. “It’s quarter past six!!!” I raged, before throwing myself onto a bleacher and attempting to sleep for the hour and fifteen minutes before school started. I got no more sleep that morning, but slept by the nurse for half the day.
Thanks pops, for conforming to the North American and European wintry practice of daylight savings time, but we live in the Tropics. See if I trust you in the morning every again!
For those of you that don’t know I live in the Caribbean, namely Trinidad and Tobago. Now, something about Trinidad and Tobago is that, come winter, TIME DOES NOT CHANGE. Before I lived here I lived in Holland with my mother, where, like most other places in the world, every winter the clock is set back an hour, and in summer it’s set forward. This, however, does not happen in Trinidad! My father did not seem to know this.
Every morning I set an alarm to wake me up for school, I usually turn this off and go right back to sleep though so my dad has to come in and remind me that I must get out of bed and shower so that I don’t scare away all my friends in school with my just out of bed look. Tuesday morning my father did just this, waking me up asking what I want for breakfast. Having gone to bed at 1am that morning I was extremely tired. Don’t ask me why I felt the need to watch Baz Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet on a Monday night but, given the opportunity, I would do it again! Anyway, my father asked, as he does every morning, what I wanted for breakfast. The following conversation ensued:
My father: “Time to get up. What do you want to eat.”
Me: “MmmmmIdunno!”
My father: “Do you want an omlette?”
Me: “NO!”
My father: “Ok, no need to sound so unenthusiastic.”
Me: “Mmmmmsorry.”
My father: “Well what do you want?”
Me: “Just do the cat.”
My father: “What?!”
Me: “The Kitten!!!”
My father: “What?!!”
Me: “…..Mmmmnevermind. Just gimme a waffle pleease!”
My father: “Ok, now get up.”
Me: “Mmm.”
Now, I feel the need to mention here that we do not in fact own a cat. My sister has a kitten but they both live in New York so she was safe from my breakfast cravings. After this exchange I managed to drag myself out of bed, avoiding the mirror so that I would not scare myself, and made my way to the bathroom. On the way I had to turn on the lights, a usual necessity as showering in the dark would be hazardous in my morning condition. This particular morning, however, I managed to miss the light switch and walk straight in to the wall. I was a little dazed, annoyed that the wall had hit me in the face, but got into the shower. Twenty minutes later I got out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom. The sky was pitch black. I stood there for a moment, observing the sky with sheer disbelief, thinking ‘I didn’t think it ever got this dark here at Christmas. It wasn’t like this last week, how does this change so quickly over one weekend?’ This should have been my first warning. Instead, however, I carried on with my morning ritual.
I did my hair, managing to tame it in my morning stupor, put on my uniform and ate my waffle (sans cat). My dad started to rush me, saying I would be late to school if we didn’t leave the house in ten minutes. So we did. Ten minutes later we were on the road and for the first time I looked at my clock. Meanwhile my father is saying “Wow, it’s really Christmas time now isn’t it. Look how dark it still is!”
Now, in the morning (as I have already demonstrated) I am quite inept. I am not, however, as ridiculous as my father. After checking the clock on my phone I turned to him and asked him, casually, what the time was. He looked at the clock in the car and paused. “It’s… My phone says it’s ten past seven.” To which I responded “My phone says it’s ten past six. Daddy why is there no traffic on the road?” Here he paused again. “Oh… the car clock also says its six.” By this point we were half way to my school and I was fighting to stay awake in the car. “Call my office,” he says (his brilliant solution) “and ask my secretary what time it is.” I did this, almost wishing I hadn’t when his lovely secretary confirmed for me that it was, indeed, ten past six in the morning. I AM NOT USUALLY OUT OF BED BY TEN PAST SIX IN THE MORNING. A couple minutes later we pull up outside of the school. I saw the security guards changing shift, as the night guards went home. My father burst into laughter and I burst into tears. I got out of the car and dumped my bags outside the reception. No one was there. I have never seen my school so empty. I made my way to the gym, luckily aware that some of my friends on the volleyball team went to school early that day to practice (crazy girls). I walked into the gym, startling them all. “Why are you here? What time is it?” one of them asked me. “It’s quarter past six!!!” I raged, before throwing myself onto a bleacher and attempting to sleep for the hour and fifteen minutes before school started. I got no more sleep that morning, but slept by the nurse for half the day.
Thanks pops, for conforming to the North American and European wintry practice of daylight savings time, but we live in the Tropics. See if I trust you in the morning every again!
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