Friday, December 31, 2010

A Video of Today

I would love to post more, but they are just too large, I may have to make sure I can reduce the size in time, enjoy this one though. We went to Maracas.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

2011 - What will it bring

We all need each other no matter what we look like
2010 was a year of reflection and direction. A year for the history books, and and some real infamous people. Many people died this year, some through violent means, others in accidents, some starved to death, and others through sickness and imperfection. Some folks made millions, and others lost millions, and yet some made none. Was life meant to be this way?

I watched two people in caskets this year, one who some years ago walked his daughter down the aisle, and Turpintine. I suffered real emotional distress this year, and painful days.

Through it all I met some of the most remarkable people, who showed their spirit. People, who were my fellow quarter-back soldiers all along. I had given up on humanity, the ability of a human to be there for you.

I felt like I was fighting a loosing battle, the war was tough and bloody, I had one arrow in my chest and one arrow in my back, I was slashed and beaten and bruised, as I lay on the battlefield, I was ready to accept death, I thought, "This is it, I am done." And just then I heard a warrior cry, I turned and saw someone running towards me, "Get up!" she bellowed, "Get up! Don't you close those eyes yet! Fight!" She helped me on my feet, and gave me my sword and shield. "This is not your time yet!" She stayed with me, and we fought together, and then she says, "I am old now, but you have your whole life ahead of you, stand up, Fight!" As I kept fighting, my long time ally came by with medication and bandages, "These will help you to withstand the pain and stop the flow of blood."  We ran into a quiet place and she applies salve to my wounds and Limacol to my head. "I would like you to rest a little, but you have to get up and get moving." Along the way I found a few more people, and of course I got wounded, but I fought...and I am still fighting, and as I continue to fight, I keep finding more fellow soldiers who will not leave me behind. In addition I am able to gain strength to help those fellow soldiers who have fallen behind, some who have been shot in the backs and legs and I have to bodily carry them.......

The thing is, we all need each other at some point, no man is an island, even if he wanted to be. If he were an island, who would be buy groceries from, or who would fix his car, or sew his clothes, or who would he talk to or touch, or sleep next to...

This year I came out of my shell, in many ways. I was quite mean with a friend, and I told them off, and for a while we did not speak, usually I would not care, they could be drowning, and I will let them. In the past, I let so many people drown. I had to find it in myself to forgive, and I wanted to be forgiven, it took a good bit of weeks, and I have never been more humble in my life, they said some things to me as well, but I d,id not fight back, I said, " I understand how you feel, and I won't be mean anymore." Today we are tighter than ever, and for the first time in a long time I can say I have a friend.

Finally, I am more than willing to be a better person. I would still want to be outspoken, its a gift of speech that I love about myself, but I want to, as my mom says, "Turn a new leaf, that chapter is done in the book of 2010, let go the baggage, stop pulling it around, stop pulling out the dead dog, over and over, move on and Live!"

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Chutney Hours

If someone says that they are unemployed and is taking a break, you would probably be confused. I am taking a break this week. after putting in 3 weeks in a building design, I am beat. However the finished product is awesome. In due time I will post it here.

Tonight, I made Mango Chutney and Fish Bake. This is really easy to do. For the Fish Bake, I mixed remnants of the seasoned sauce from the fish, with the batter that was used to deep fry the fish, I added some lime juice and cayenne pepper, with a touch of salt, then I fried it.

For the Mango Chutney, I used a green Julie mango that was too acid to use in chow. I chopped it up, added one tablespoon of sugar some ground spice and a cup of water, with one teaspoon of butter, allow to boil until syrupy.

About 5 servings.

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Still Up

Stress can eat you up sometimes, to the point that your body refuses to take a rest.

My mind goes out to all the people who are situations they cannot change, like battered women, and children, and I hope that they find the strength to live, and to not give up. I have been there, and I can tell you that you can Survive!

Friday, December 24, 2010

Appreciation Poster to Place on your Desktop

Lately, I have been getting some great feedback on my blog. So, as a fan appreciation gesture I am up loading a rendition of my Sari-Girl sketch which was posted on the last post. Its the average size for quick uploading and it is in JPG format.

Thank You from Bluecat.

Click on Pic to download a larger version

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

I Heart Indian Movies and Sari

And yet, I only had one of each. I once had a sari or saree, and I wore it a few times, then one day, I went to New York, returned home and found it missing, I still grieve for it, although its been two years. It was going to be the start of a fabulous personal, international and cultural collection of traditional wear. Or while my paycheck lasted, which did not happen, so all I have are pictures to remember it by.

Moving on. In 1995, I saw my first Indian movie in cinema. it starred Shahrukh Khan and Kajol, my ultimate and favourite onscreen couple, you have to agree, the chemistry there was beautiful with a capital B. Their movie was, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. If there was any movie worth paying for it was that one. One friend swore that Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was way better, but I never really got the chance to see it, so now I am on a mission to bag both movies in my personal collection. If you do know where I can get them, send me a message.

This was a huge accomplishment, going to cinema to see an Indian movie. At the time, Indian movies never showed in Port of Spain, you had to go to the cinemas in the East or down south for those popcorn delights. We ended up in a peeling paint one, somewhere in the East, I cant remember it much, except that I had never ever visited that part of Trinidad before. At home before we left, my mom was nervous, and as she handed me some money, she said, "Allyuh, just be careful with my child please?" I went with Wendy, Roselyn, and someone I was not familiar with. We took two taxis, the second one was an East Indian driver, and when he heard where were were going, and what we were going to see, he turned around, watched us, turned his head back to the road, and we were on our way.

When we reached the cinema, it was clear that we were different. Everyone else were of East Indian descent. And the facial expressions spoke volumes. Some of the folks even came up to us and said, "You all are in the wrong cinema." "Who say so!" retorted one of my friends, "I came to see Indian movie tonight, so keep it moving!" I was so scared at the time, I did not want to leave, but I just had to see that movie. So, I held on to Wendy's hand, lowered my head and we went to see Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge with English subtitles. I was most happy. Our joy bubbled over after the movie, and just like in the Bollywood movies rain and saffron colored frilly flowers can rain down on our heads, and we can dance the night away.

I never went to see another Indian movie in life again, personally, I am not into constant musical numbers and I don't have patience for 10 minute long songs, but Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge was different, all the songs were original smash hits, and the backdrops of Europe was a very rich international touch to the whole singing scenes.

I read that Kites is another good one, I might take a try and see it, I mean Hithrick is a very good-looking stud, and seeing him in action may make my brain turn into red rose petals.....mmmmmm...

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Monday, December 20, 2010

Hard candy, Brass and Wooden legs in the closet

Outspoken, Blunt, Frank, Assertive, Straightforward, Direct, Rude, Ghetto, Trailer Trash, All-mouth-No-Action. Have you ever been labeled as one of these terms? This writer has had her full share of labels.

My roommate loves the movie The Proposal. I was not a fan of it so much, because, there is hardly any romance movies that are realistic, and this is clearly one of them. So there we are watching The Proposal one warm night.

There is a part where Margaret fell out with one of her co-worker, Bob and he called her a "poisonous b**". And for a moment, I was struck, so I continued to watch the movie. It made me look at what people thought of women who are not 'flirty thirty in flowery dresses'. Now you think its ironic, me watching a romantic comedy, trying to build a mental level ground with a fictional character. As the movie went on, you come to understand Margaret, and we come to know her and see her vulnerability. Especially when she explains the two sparrows/robins tattoo on her back, and when Bob, whom she fired, called her that mean word, she cried silently, its as though she became human.

Just for speaking out, you alienate yourself, and people despise you. It takes a hard stomach to speak out, especially when you are standing the path of a back-hoe... and no one is there with you. In fact someone maybe there, but they are urging the back-hoe operator to mow you down...just for blowing the whistle. This applies to passionate people. People who are like that one tooth in a toothless mouth who is determined to stay and make a difference, or who just wants the world to see what is happening, or who just simply wants to be different, but not in a 'Mean Girls' kind of manner.

Popularity never came my way in school. I was as ordinary as they come. Just as Oprah put the O in generOsity, I put the O in Oddball. Whenever I spoke up, I was constantly shot down, or seen as insensitive, dummy, pervert even. Those were hard times as a teenager. As a young adult, I am now seen as a snob. While, I certainly don't agree with that term, I have learned to listen to people more, not to change their minds or their opinion of me, but to give them a voice, to be a human they can admire, someone who they remembered giving them a listening ear. Sometimes, I fail, and sometimes, I pass. No one pats my back, because its life, and it is hard all around.

So, my fellow shareholders in the Outspeakers Club: shed those silent tears in your lovely pillows at nights and get up in the morning and keep your heads high, you have every right to live in the world as the next silent crime-fighter, live your life and WIN!

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte


Sunday, December 19, 2010

A little Mouse story....

That I found on another blog.

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" the mouse wondered.

He was devastated to discover that it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed this warning: "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap - alone.

That very night, there was a a loud, ringing “CLACK:” sound was throughout the house - the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught in the mousetrap. In the darkness, she did not see that it was a venomous snake whose tail was caught in the trap. The snake bit the farmer's wife.

The farmer rushed her to the hospital.

When she returned home she still had a fever.

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup.

So the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient: But his wife's sickness continued.

Friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock.

To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

But, alas, the farmer's wife did not get well... She died.

So many people came for her funeral that the farmer had to slaughter the cow to provide enough meat to feed them all at the funeral luncheon.

And the mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and you think it doesn't concern you, remember: When one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

We are all involved in this journey called life.

We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage and assist one another.


Space - Is it the Final Frontier?

I do not know. What I do know is that it is beautiful, and a joy to behold, a marvel of creation. I wonder sometimes what it is like to be in space, see the galaxy and capture some Moon Sand. I will not go on, but I will post some pics for your enjoyment.

Better yet, here is the link.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

The Microwave Cake Adventure

Could you imagine how your world can change forever if I can tell you in less than one hour you can make your cake and eat it too?... (and here is the kicker)...with frosting!

I did it! And so can you!

My roommate was itching for something sweet to eat, so I asked her, "Would you like me to make a cake in the microwave for you?" She rolled her eyes, "Ok try, but just don't burn anything."

So, I got to work. put all my ingredients together and did a test try with a coffee mug. In three minutes cooking time. I presented it to my roommate, her eyes lit up! The next challenge was the small, clear and square pyrex dish. To ensure the cake batter does not fall, I increased the amount of baking powder by a few more sprinkles. I also put one dish at a time in the microwave. Three mins...nah...four mins...nada...three more mins?...nope...three mins...finally! I insert fork and it came out clean! Meanwhile, I made the butter frosting mixing icing sugar and butter with a small spoon, a few drops of vanilla essence and viola!

When the cakes finished baking, I put them in the refrigerator to cool. In twenty mins, the cakes were cooled, drizzled the rum onto one of the cooled cakes, added the butter icing, put one cake on top of the other, added sprinkles, and I was eating my cake in less than one hour!

Time taken from the ingredients to the mouth, 50 mins tops. Satisfaction guaranteed!

My camera is in the shop, so my other camera had to improvise, anyway, this pic shows you what the actual cake looked like, and yes it was chocolate.

2010©Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Friday, December 17, 2010

Book Review: Trinidad & Tobago Heritage- Drawings of the Islands' Past by Gerald G. Watterson

This book reached out and touched me, so to speak. I have a weakness for old homes, and we have so many of them with character here, it is truly heartbreaking to see them go the way of the Dodo bird. So, while I was doing my part to document them, one guy already did his part years ago, to preserve them by drawings.

This 145 page book, in full black and white drawing is a sight for wet eyes. The Author, has managed to capture the many fine details that showcases the exceptional talent of the architects and builders of these homes.

Unfortunately, some of them were destroyed to make way for progress and car parks. It is my belief that at least one copy of this book should be in each school library, so that young people' s eyes are opened to the treasure trove of history that they pass everyday on their way to school.

Long standing book stores still sell these books, and some of the newer ones. You can find it in Amazon at this link: Trinidad & Tobago Heritage: Drawings of the Island's Past

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Like a Cancer

Cancer is like an invincible warrior. It goes into a populated city, takes over, and destroys it completely. Sometimes, it seems like is suddenly appears in the city, and as the guards begin to attack, it wipes them out, and proceeds to plunder and destroy. Other times, it seems to send out little warnings, like a little attack here, and a little attack there.

Lately, I have heard of many people contracting Cancer. Which to me is staggering. It seems like all of a sudden everyone is getting cancer of some sort. Personally, I know of three people with it, all women. Another friend of mine has lost count of the folks they know with it. It helps to see if you hear more about the Cancer survivor stories, than the ones who have passed away from it. However, it would be good to remember that once it has become evident that there is that mortal enemy in you, you must face the facts. This is all not new to me, I mean, I was born in the '80's, and it seems like in the 90's its all I ever heard about, except, so many people now are getting Cancer so close to home, and I am a bit troubled.

When we went to Manzanilla, on Sunday. Even the Honey-selling lady, told us of three people she knew with Cancer, all in advanced stages. One of them is a child. We then discussed if it is the food or water. She was convinced that it is the chemicals that is put in the vegetables to make them unpalatable to insects and worms. I thought out loud about the water, but somehow, Honey-seller does seem have a point, could it be that the chemicals that are used in agriculture is not being used effectively? Could it be the pollution all around us? Global warning? Genetics? Lifestyle? I tried to remember what road did we take to reach this point today, so far I can only gather our prosperity judging by the kinds of cars on our roads.

Today, was the funeral of the wife of a cherished friend. She was pleasant and you can see her smile for miles. Always a quick laugh, and she loved to dance! Her husband took quite long to get married, but when he did, she was the best person for him, she was his rib, his companion. I cannot imagine the grief that he is facing right now, and that although she is in a deep sleep, she will awake again.

Some info on Cancer and Genetics here.
Info on Aggressive cancer therapy here.
What needs to be said is to live each day doing good, and cherish each other, because life is so uncertain now.

Please remember the information place here is not to self-diagnose but for information/entertainment purposes only.

2010© Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Imagination & Craft, or redesign

Real wooden furniture are almost rare these days. If we buy ‘reasonably priced’ furniture, we may as well buy food for termites. One wooden ironing board met its rickety demise two years after it was bought and literally soaked with dieselene. Trini termites don’t make joke!

In the old days we used to hear of wood like Cedar, Teak, Pitch-Pine, Mahogany, Purple Heart, and ‘Water Kay’. Now I will not be getting into the story of the various types of fantastic wood that grows right here in Trinidad and Tobago, their history and so on. However I can sum up  the quality of our wood in two words: Morris Chairs. Now the conversation can start!

Sanding old wooden furniture is the first step to restoration. The key is not make the furniture ‘look’ new again, because antiques get their value from looking ‘distressed’ or used.

The wooden table in the pic was given as a gift, so the type of wood is unknown. As you can see, the sanding process is quite light. First coarse sandpaper was used to remove years of varnish that caused the table to look very dark. A sanding block was not used, neither a sanding machine, the process was done entirely by hand. Finally, a very fine grade sandpaper was used to ‘finish’. It will do you well to remember to sand with the grain of the wood, not ‘against’ it or cris-crossing it. You can use a piece of wood with the sandpaper folded around it to sand those hard-to-reach places.

For the varnishing part, a clear water-based urethane, was used to give the furniture some shine. It dries clear and quick, and also shows the wood color and grain nicely. Plus it is quite easy to care for, just use a soft, dry-damp cloth to wipe. The table was cleaned of sand particles with a soft dry cloth, so that the it will not  be scratched in the process. Then the water-based urethane was applied with another soft cloth one dip at a time by hand. Make sure and sand with the grain. Two coats were applied, with drying allowances between them.

The entire process took two and a half hours, from the sanding to the varnishing. The goal was not to change the entire look of the wood, but to remove the old varnish. The top coat was allowed to dry for two hours after. In the end you did a project on which you saved money, by Doing-it-Yourself.

2010© Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Monday, December 13, 2010

Changing Times and Life Experience

 Growing up, I wanted to be a vet. I loved and still love animals, and I loved the prospect of being there for them so that they can live healthy and fulfilling lives. Most of all, I adore dogs and cats.  Dogs, I observed, grow up in the personality of their owners. For instance if you are a quarrelsome owner, you will have a miserable dog, if you are a happy owner, you would have a happy dog. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.

We lived about 15 mins by taxi from Port of Spain, in a small, simple home with lots of yard space and Avocado trees, with a mango veare(?) tree and guava trees. Some days when no clients came to do their hair, mom used to pitch marbles with my sisters. As a single parent, she opted to have her hair salon at home to be closer to her children. I remember coming home from school and smelling the misty finishing spray in the pink can. I also used to hear the hair dryer running, and seeing mom apply the relaxer to a sitting client's head. She used to look so tired. Moscle and Truskey, used to greet us at the gate when we came from school.  Some days, there were lots of laughter coming from the salon, especially on a Saturday.

The salon was a gray and white building with a sign in the road that says, "The New You". It was wooden and sat just outside our home next to Matapal Street. Some days it was empty of clients, and mom used to send us to Ewing Grocery with $40.00 to get items for the day. Back then, it was alot of money. When we returned home we used to have brown paper bags in our arms filled with bought items. Yep, life was simple.

One year, we were blessed with nine animals in our home. That year, Truskey gave birth to six pups: Moscle, Whitey, two other females and two other males. I remember, because I had on a pair of yellow gloves that were too large for my hands, and I squatted beside Truskey and helped her to give birth her pups. I was 13 or 14 at the time. The puppies came out in a slimy clear sack,  which I tore open to relieve them. Each puppy was connected through its umbilical cord, to a dark sack, which was promptly consumed by Truskey. I was aghast, then Mom explained the those sacks were the placenta, and it is full of nourishment, and Truskey the dog, is consuming this mass to feed the puppies through her milk. That day Truskey ate no food. Ever since then, I have yet to see puppies as healthy as the ones that came from Truskey. We had a cat called Tiffany, who gave birth to three kittens a week later.

From that moment on, I wanted to be a vet. The desire is still alive, though, it is not as pronounced as before. It seems that everything is driven by money. Where is the passion and pride of being in an occupation because you can help someone live a better life, or because the idea is fantastic! If you are in the medical field, where is the compassion and gentle sensitivity for the sick, elderly and dying? Times have changed. It is with great sadness that I read the plight of a young mother who is in a coma because pieces of placenta was left in her after she gave birth to her child. While I don't know all the facts, I hope that she recovers quickly to care and nurse her beautiful baby daughter. We must cherish each day as it is our last....until better times come.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Coast 2 Coast: Tripping in Trinidad and Tobago - Monos Island

Quiet, airy, cool, and relaxing. Certainly, I am not speaking about some country area in Trinidad nor Tobago. "People here are unified. No one interferes with you, we are a small, simple community here, Mytle Lopez says. Ma Ben, as she is affectionately called, lived on Monos Island since 1981. "When I was seventeen years old, you could not get me to sit on a boat and get wet by salt water", she fondly remembers. In a nutshell, she got married, settled down with her husband, who was a fisherman with a home on Monos Island, and lived there to this day. Today, she is cleaning the area around a tall slim tree. "I am going to plant something here" she said. Mrs Lopez, regularly cleans the whole area, including the stretch of road she calls the highway, with her son. I asked her if she gets paid to do this, "No! I love my surroundings to be clean so I do it." Her son is using the weed wacker to clean one of the neighbors yards. This he gets paid for.

Monos Island or Scotland Bay, is one of a group of islands in the northwest area of Trinidad. In the old days they used to be called the Dragon Islands. On the way to Monos, you pass a couple of other islands called Fantasy Island which has a new name, and the ever popular Gaspree Island home of the Gaspree Caves. Photographs does not do justice to the sheer beauty of these remote and privately owned islands, you must see it in person.

"When I go to Monos, I am going home," remarks one resident. "I love the area and I tell my wife that this is where we belong." Mrs. Lopez, opens up her home to vacationers who want to rent. "My place is always open, I like when I stand right here in my kitchen, I can see the jetty and I can look out the window to greet people passing here," she laughs, her floured hands kneading a roll of corn maize dough. "You ever had Noni before?" she asked. I shook my head, "I've heard it tastes really bad, so I never tried it." She pulled out a large plastic cranberry juice bottle, "Have some of this, and tell me what you think." I looked at the brown liquid and got caught in my throat, "Ok". I figured I might as well, at least, to try it once. The liquid had a pungent smell, like a mix between an old toe-jamed grapefruit and sharp wine. The glass was filled to quarter and I took a sip, then I emptied the glass. My face screwed up a bit then I had a second glass. And then I smiled, she did too. Now, I am the proud owner of the large cranberry juice bottle of my first Noni Juice.

The Island is filled with fruit trees and vegetation. The air is clean and the grass is always green. A caretaker of one of the homes drives a compact open top vehicle. He is a dark, stocky guy his ras piled high on his head, he is shuttling his family to the beach down to the back known as Scotland Bay. Caribbean living at its finest. The beauty of the area is its natural undeveloped state. Some folks like the hub of cities, tall glass and metal buildings, fancy cars, a window cubicle, high-heeled shoes, the works. Here its a small boat, your wooden/concrete home, and quiet is all you need. Every morning at 5:30am, Mrs. Lopez starts the day by praying, then she takes a bath, goes outside tends her yard, and sweeps the 'highway'. Some days, she comes inland, and buys groceries at least once a week in Port of Spain.

In her home, Ma Ben or Mrs. Lopez is in her element. The refreshingly yellow home is partly wooden and partly concrete due to old age and termite damage. The house is very clean and airy. Her main bedroom still has her wooden floor, right next to it, is her small tiled bathroom and another larger visitors bedroom with double decker and single beds. How does she keep it so clean? "Cleaning is a daily thing you know, you have to keep making your rounds to keep your surroundings intact." On top of one of her clothes drawer, there is a picture of her and a young woman. "Thats Benita, my daughter, she died some years ago, here we were going to a wedding."

For me and many Trinis, Monos Island is a vacation get-away. A place that you jump off the jetty, see fishes, Sting Rays and Eels swim in their natural habitat, hear a variety of birds sing their songs of a new day, and pack up and go home. But for Ma Ben, her son Lance, and four other neighbors, Monos Island is home, its where their heart is.

2010© Lisa Marie Bonaparte

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Do you have a story to tell?

click pic to enlarge

CafféLatté Magazine© wants to know! You can send pictures with your story and we will post the best 5 (five) stories one for each day!  

CafféLatté Magazine© would like the site to be kept clean so language is important. Other than that we can't wait to hear them! You can email your stories and photos to

Please state the heading of your email as How We Met!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Chicken Chest Driver vs Bright Orange Shirt Jabba

Second time around, I was given the most awesome opportunity to droop my lil’ sis to school. I am filled with nervous jitters and bursting pride. As we drove through St James, we spoke about having a proper breakfast to start off the day, and I offer doubles, one without any pepper. “I had yoghurt  already and I don’t want any doubles,” the precocious then 5-year old replied. “Ok, but tomorrow have something more than yoghurt.” I advised.

When we reached her school, I helped her out of the car, “Give me some sugar, girl” and she reluctantly planted a kiss on my cheek, I gave her a kiss and she wipes it off, “Lipstick, oof!” I feel like a first time parent as I see her off to her class, so I waited by the gate. As I chatted with the guard, I saw a sudden movement and saw a silver car  with tinted windows cornering my car. In the tinted windows, I saw rapidly moving hands, and a bright orange shirt. Next to him there was a patterned outfit that was also gesticulating wildly. I peered into the car to see if I knew the people in the silver car, I did not. The guard said, “You in a bad spot here, you should go.” I blew my sis a kiss and jumped into my car, but I could not move. I was viciously blocked by the silver car. I motioned to the driver to reverse his car so that I can vacate the spot. I could not move and he refused to move, instead he came out of the car, bright orange shirt, and orange cap, a local Jabba. His body fat wobbled around his body as he glared, cussed and gesticulated at me. He seems angry, what should I do?: (a) give him the sumo wrestler eye and come out the car too (b) blow my horn and rev up my car (c) make my mouth into an “O” and give him the choicest four-letter words that my mother never taught me, and would probably slap me my head spinning like an LP record spun on a music console by a dj? (d) drive away? Bright Orange Shirt Jabba advanced to my car, his peach fat lips curled and dribbled with poisonous yellow cuss words. When I looked into his car in front of my car, I saw a large woman, she was glaring at me, and I think I saw a small pair of little eyes. By now, Jabba seeing my reluctance to reciprocate his kindness, squeezed himself into his car. I confirmed with the guard that my lil sister will be alright, and drove off, not even looking at Bright Orange Shirt Jabba and his minions.

I was chicken alright, I moved away from a fight, my small heart rapidly beating within my chicken chest. I have some weight too, but considerably smaller than Jabba. I lived to see another day, untouched and relieved.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Things that make you Wonder

I have been Ella Fitzgeralding* for some days now. Not that I have just found something different from this chaotic mess of senseless music, and found Ella. I would like to think that she found me, like when a beautiful golden sunrise glow hits your face on a chilly dewey morning. (Sipping a cup of stinging hot coffee). The thing is that someone is a genius if they can describe her golden voice, scatting up your emotions into a happy crescendo. At this point you are ready to take on anything, like that nosey neighbor who can’t stop looking into your yard and commenting on the state of your struggling shrubs, or the boss who believes that weekends are for them to suddenly call and ask you to come to work A.S.A.P, since they have scheduled a meeting for Monday morning at eight.

So, what makes great music? Music that can make you listen to it, groove to it, sway and simply relax and let yourself go. Music that when you can listen to it over, and over, and over. There are many different genre of music like Jazz, Rock, Alternative, Classical, Hip-Hop, Bossa Nova and so on. Did you know that Soca and Calypso are also in the mix? Local music is just a good as the others (when they have real lyrics), 

In New York, I met a very Techno fellow, who listened to nothing else preferring artists like Janine Monet, and a variety of Japanese pop artists. He also enjoyed Manga comics and all things Japanese. When I told him about Ella he simply said, “Meh”! I also youtubed# some of our local soca music and the dances. He showed some interest, especially in the dancing part.

About four years ago, I explored the possibility of owning on CD any of our ol’ time calypso music from long dead artistes. I was warned that some of them had double meaning and the like, but somehow I just wanted to have a listen. Thinking that I would find it on iTunes, I typed up my search to find Roaring Lion under world music. I then typed soca to no results. Wow. I scrambled Machael Montano only to look under Genre to find ‘reggae’? Didn’t someone give iTunes the memo that soca is not reggae? However, since I was out of pocket I dropped the whole music collection idea. It has not died as yet.

Lately, I have gathered a good bit of locally inspired steel-pan music from Laim Teague and Andy Narell. I have got my Etta James, Nina Simone, Sarah Vaugn and the like (thanks to my dad relentless pursuit of jazz legends). I have heard of Yellowjacket and lately Yellowman. There are still avid Slinger Francisco (The Mighty Sparrow) and Kitchener fans (I never forgot the ‘Bees Melody’ when I got a grade B in a test). On times spent with my mom, there is a guarantee that during the course of the day I would hear Byron Lee and the Dragonairres. Driving to work or the beach brings out the Bob Marley. Jill Scott and India Aire blazes the way for empowerment, and Beyoncé is for girls night out. Machael Montano and Shurwayne Winchester are for parties and just plain liming. Michael Jackson is for music videos and moon walking. Ella is for everything else, but I still want my ol’time calypso music.

* CafféLatté Dictionary Ella Fitzgeralding v. enjoying exclusively Ella Fitzgerald music; scatting mood
#CafféLatté Dictionary youtubed v. searching for videos on...

Monday, November 22, 2010

Funny Conversations

Overhearing other people's speech is an honor, especially when it is a funny observation, or remark. There is a website dedicated to all these overhearers, some funny and others, not so much. Here are some of my favorites.

For more Overheards click here. Warning some of them can be quite graphic.

Friday, November 19, 2010

CafféLatté Magazine's 20 songs you cannot break up with (even if you try)

The songs are in no particular order. Feel free the state your opinions, I know I have some debatable selections. I don't have comments for all of them.

1. AL GREEN - Lets Stay Together

2. ANITA BAKER - Talk to Me

3. KEM - I Can't Stop Loving You


5. CHAMPAIGN - How'Bout Us

6. HAROLD MELVIN & THE BLUE NOTES - If You don't Know me By Now

7. LOU RAWLS - You'll Never Find Another love Like Mine

8.THE DELFONICS - La La Means I love You

9. GROVER WASHINGTON - Just The Two of Us

10. LIONEL RICHIE - Stuck On You



13. NINA SIMONE - Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

14.FAITH EVANS - Tru Love

15. MICHAEL BUBLE - Try A Little Tenderness

16. MUSIQ SOULCHILD - Previouscats
Musiq is straight talk take it or leave it. His music has a genuine quality that is simple and straight, he lets you know where he stands and you have to make a decision.

17. BOYZ 2 MEN - On Bended Knee
This is self explanatory, the melody could melt stone.


19. INDIA. AIRE - Goodman

20. .38 SPECIAL - Second Chance
This is one of these take-me-back-moment music.

Honorable Mention:
WHITESNAKE - Is this love
This is one of my most beloved in my collection. It is a must have piece of music, and the guitar rift is incredible! I am not a fan of the hair, afterall it was the '80's

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Newspaper Chronicles

Today's news was typical, and one for me was very horrible, a 20 year-old woman losing her life, through no fault of her own.

In the same newspapers there were some very amusing stories and funny comics.

Tell me, how do you overtake 60 cars? How? Not 2, not 4, but 60? Who was he related to Flash Gordon Trinidad Edition? Steups!

This was really smart, something to think about.

Its good to see some Trinis still care for their pets. Please if you find her bring her home.

Time we get a Sweetbread Comic Book.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

On the road for Doubles

Today, I decided to spy on the average working Trinis up on my side of the country. I had an itchy sleep and I was not inclined to continue sleeping, I don't even remember my dream. So, in anticipation of the cool morning drive, I got up early, got dressed and hit the road. I did not get very far, everywhere there was traffic, although I left home at 7:20 am. As a worker-down-under, I was more observant of my surroundings and I was surprised on how much I missed going to work, with the multitude of masses.

There were people standing in the rain looking for yellow-band maxi taxi's, illegal and very helpful PH taxi's siphoning folks to work, frustrated drivers going through Westmoorings to avoid the highway traffic, garbage truck collecting garbage, schoolchildren collected by their private drivers, birds busy collecting food, young men getting doubles, some people slurping the channa from its bara, and many activities.

Anita Baker is surrendering her lovely voice to me via CD, and my windows are down. I am in no rush to get to work, and I feel fine. My day is planned and I am full, I just need to get my doubles, and the rest of the day is smooth.

Going through St. James, my breakfast of champions on the front passenger seat, many businesses were already open, and the delivery vans and their contents were in constant flux of movement. I was driving behind this dusty white van carrying boxes of some green vegetation, when we in the vicinity of a Kiss delivery truck, got stuck stuck in some mini traffic. A kiss employee wheeling his delivery trolley deftly between the stagnant cars, struck out his finger and sketched on the glass of the dusty van, I chuckled to myself, 'He is one happy fellow.'

After that, I came home. I realized that today I was really positive, and that positivity came out on my skin. I had more plans for today, but then I had this throbbing headache, that will not die. It was like a mini alien seeking to burst out of my forehead, so I took two Panadol and took a rest.

That was my day. How was yours?

Monday, November 15, 2010

Headless Chicken and Parking at Piarco Airport

The first few times I parked at the airport, was interesting, because when I returned to my car, I could not find it. At one point it took us almost an hour to locate the car, we ran around and around, frantically thinking that the car was stolen, pressing the alarm button so that we can at least "hear something". And to think I still had to pay the for the extra hour to exit the parking lot. I began to think that this was a conspiracy to 'extract' an extra $3.50. I was so embarrassed to relate this experience until I read of someone who had the same frustration, "running around like a headless chicken" looking for their car.

The 'headless chicken experience' is a one of a kind experience where anxiety, frantic search bordering to schizophrenic altitudes, pile onto the brain cells. It symptoms are twitching eyes, knotted eyebrows, mouth in a grimace, shaking body, and hands cryptically buckled and curved, looking to grab at anything remotely resembling the presently cherished looked for item.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Modern Contemporary Beach Home

am absotivley obsessed with beach homes. To me they are like the Absolut Vodka advertisements in major magazines (something that I look forward to). Some folks like forest living, and some like living in the desert, and others admire ranch living. What I did was designed a home with all the city amenities in a contemporary setting, on 3 acres, near the beach.

This home design comes with:
-3 car garage
-welcome area
-home office
-3 spacious bedrooms
-1 master suite
- wash room
- basement lab
-T.V. room
- pool
-tennis court

It is ideal for large families, and reclusive ones. As usual the inside is bursting with colour, to me white was too bland.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Forgiveness and the best slice of Bread

So you and a friend had a fight. It could have been brutal, or petty, either way, it turns out you you both no longer speak. Whenever you see them, you start grinding that old battle-axe like a viking warrior. When, you don't see them, you chuckle to yourself about the good times you spent together, and the times you comforted each other, through some problem, then you reach for the phone just to say, "Hi", and then you didn't.

What is you favourite part of a loaf of bread? Some people like the middle, it is the most advertised section of the loaf, perfect on both sides, others like the end, with the firm outer skin and the soft inner part, still others don't care as long as they get a slice. Which one do you like?

Now, picture yourself and friends as each of those 20 slices in that loaf, who would you like to be eaten first? Is it the first slice with the extra skin on it? The person who is protector, the tough one who got your back, no matter what, the no-non sense person, who delivers tough love? Or the slice in the middle? The people person, who is well liked, and approachable, and is especially a hit with peanut butter and jelly?

All of us, are a part of that loaf of bread, none of us is better than the next, we all came from Adam and Eve, and we are all imperfect. In the end we all die, some earlier than others. When we forgive someone, we show ourselves to be the bigger person, and we have a lot more class doing it, and nothing beats humility, its like salve for a painful wound.

When we don't forgive, we are like moldy bread, no one will eat it, and no one will like you. Not that you could care, or would care, but when you die, how would people remember you?

Just my two cents and no dollars.

Monday, November 8, 2010

When the house can take no more

There was a time when I hated to clean. Straight up honest, I simply hated to clean, I did not mind cleaning the bathroom, it is fairly easy, all you need is Bleach or Tilex. Spray it on, leave it overnight, rinse later. With the toilet bowl, bleach on cloth, wipe and mop like mad, and viola! You are done!. The kitchen was a whole other story. Especially when you live in a home with so much other folks. As soon as the sun comes up, you could find yourself facing a huge stack of dishes before you left for school, and double that after you came from school, plus you had to clean the stove, and oven, wipe the tables, and clean out the food pantry ever so often, so that cockroaches will not decide to squat, and then build a mighty nasty empire. Living rooms and dining rooms are fairly easy, just move around some items, sweep mop, cobweb....

I love books, I buy books, and magazines, I gave away my magazines, and kept my books, as a result, I have lots of books. I bought a book last week, and I have no more space on my shelf. There is a difference, I read all my books at least twice cover to cover. My roommate is seeking to get me out so that she can 'invite' that Peter guy, to help me rid my addiction of my book collection. It would take more than him, and his long face and goatee, for me to let my books go.

And then there are the hoarders....

One of the most famous cases of hoarding are the Collyer Brothers. Their house was so full of garbage, it was considered a health risk and a fire hazard and finally after clearing out, the city of New York decided to have their brownstone torn down. In that mangy place were pianos, a car, guns, anything that you can think of as garbage, was there, it was the perfect junk yard, or house in this case. The most gruesome, is when Langley Collyer was found trapped in one of his booby-trapped tunnels, half-eaten by rats. Up until this point, I was not aware that rats ate dead bodies, further research indicated that they do, so being cremated does not look so bad after-all. Today, all that is left of the Collyer Brothers is a clean and cute little park.

Living on your own has its own blessings, and one of those is to see how clean you really are. On a scale of 1 - 10, with ten being the height of the clean scene, I will give myself a 8. Making up my bed is a real chore that I dislike. What will you rate yourself?

Just a little thought for the day.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Tuesday into Wednesday Mumblings

Yesterday, I was speaking with a friend, we were talking about the future, and what we would like to achieve, that we did not achieve before. He plans to relocate, in a couple of years, and get someone special to be with. I, on the other hand, did not know what to say. While his plans are under construction, my plans have taken a different direction.

Ten years ago If you were to ask me what I would be in ten years, i would state the obvious: have a family, be married, and have a good job. Well, its 10 years later, and I am no where close to sipping a beer with my husband while snuggling on a sofa watching a movie on television, on a Friday night. Somehow, I can't account for this change of plans.

These days, my Friday nights are spent either eating ice cream in St. James, driving to Chaguaramas in the dead of the night, or doing some little projects on my computer. Which in itself is not bad, it is simply was not planned. I also thought I would be dead by a certain age, and so I had a Bucket List. well, a bucket is quite large, I had a Coffee Mug list. I thought, since I would be dead by a particular age, I might as well keep things simple and contrite. I am now the age at which I am supposed to be dead, and I am alive, beaten, bruised, and emotionally scarred, but totally alive. This I had not planned. Has this ever happened to you?

Tonight, I was speaking with a very dear friend, and she suggested that I change my way of thinking, my one track mind. She insisted that I go out and meet more people, and potential (marriage mates). I am a bit straight-laced, and I am not an all-over-town type of woman. Going out for the sake of meeting a guy, is not really on my agenda. If I go out its to get food, or beer, or put gas in the car, I can't see any benefit in looking for a man. If I do find him what are we going to talk carburetor? Obama?

For the sake of dreaming I might as well clue you in as to what my wedding dream used to be like. I would walk down the aisle in a pair of yellow Converse with stuck on crystals. My hair would be in a bun (no tendrils or fancy crap like that, just a bun), and I would be clutching sunflowers in my hands, and wearing a long cap-sleeved cotton and linen wedding dress in ivory (do you know how hot silk is in the Caribbean?). All I know the groom would have on a yellow tie, I don't even know who he is, what he looks like, and what he smells like. I tried to imagine the wedding night, and I am so clueless with it, I could quicker imagine having a cup of cocoa with large marshmallows in it.

I am done mumbling, and I hope that we never really meet, while I am falling on the ground, my groceries spilling all over the place.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Sophia Turpin and I

There is just some people I can never forget. I remember strange things about people. I remember how their toes look, how yellow their teeth are, how long their fingers, and sometimes, if they have no neck. I remember Sophie's smile.

Sophie's smile is genuine, Sophie's smile lights up a room. Sophie's smile comforts me, along with her hugs, Sophie's smile is no more, and now I have a headache. You don't know how some people reach your heart until, they are gone. Sophie's kidneys took her away.

I met Sophie, just because she smiled at me, and soon after we became fast friends. I renamed her Turpentine, after a very sweet, local mango. When I called her that, I remembered her sweet disposition, and a fearless mother. It was a unique friendship, in that she had three children, and I had none. She had a very difficult life, and my life, although emotionally trying, could not match up to the courage that she showed in the face of a truly unfair life.

Before I left for NYC, we did some things together, I would visit her, and her kids, and one night I took them for Coconut water, later when her kids were by their father, she came and spent a night by me. We spoke until the wee hours of the morning, then she had to go to work. I had just returned from NYC, when I heard that her kidneys were failing her. Prior to that, I was looking into organ donations. I had two kidneys, and so far they were fine, perhaps she would like one, I thought. So, I asked, someone who knew her very well, and they said, not likely, since she could still die. I also thought of the red tape corruption that engulfs this country of ours, and it was not going to be a simple issue of me taking one of my kidneys and letting the doctors, give it to her. I did not want to die in the process, but I did not want my sweet Turpentine to leave her kids without a mother, and me without a friend. So, I planned to visit her, which I did, I met her brother and he stated that she was living with a sister and her family along with her two daughters. So I took comfort in this. Meanwhile, I was going through some rough patches of my own.

Soon I met Turpentine, a few months ago and I was tearful that she looked ok, but her smile, still bright and genuine enveloped me once more, and we spoke like old buddies, my tears flowing and she comforting me. About three weeks ago we met again, and she showed me the healed wounds from the dialysis, machine hook ups. She stated with a slight frustration, "They run out of places to cut me." We hugged and hugged, she was shorter than I was and very, very small. I was scared, and I did not want to think about it.

Today, she passed on, in the hospital, under pressure from doctors to take a blood transfusion. Khadine and Khadisha, and Khareem has no mother, and I fear that their lives are about to get very complicated. With no mother and an absentee father, I can do nothing but hope, and possibly assist in some way. I don't like funerals, but I will go, just because of Sophie's Smile.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Butterflies named Elementary and Apparently

Lately, I have noticed that I forgot my sordid history, and I did the same thing that got me into trouble before. I was very disappointed in myself, and I am now more determined to learn from past mistakes.

On a more serious note, something strange happened today. I met someone who is quite familiar with my family. He asked me my name and I simply mentioned my name and nothing else, he pushed for my surname, and I declined to tell him. I felt as though my surname has become a curse. And, personally, I no longer felt proud of it. Despite the Napoleonic history, in Europe, I thought that that history is outdated and not applicable to my personality, or life. I am simply me, and I am not my name. However, my surname as popular as it may be, as beautiful, and powerful, given in any which way you think, or thought about it, has dampened my spirit and my drive to succeed. Although, I must say, that if you want to be famous, you can mention, something controversial, or do something stupid, and you can become famous and people will just throw money your way, or you can ghost write your 'story'. While you, the lonely cheese, cower in bed thinking of some offended person pelting a molotov cocktail at your home. Or not.

At one of my jobs, word through the grape vine was that I did not listen, and I counteracted it with, "well why did he not tell me this to my face, why wait, and lie to me, thinking that he is so smart to insinuate, that I, defied his every word like a swash-buckling pirate, using my rapier to slice and dice his words so that I can, 'destroy his decisions'". Had he laid his basketballs on the table, and tell me what he really thought, I would have opened my ears to what he said. Instead, he threw limestone and talcum pebble accusations, 'hoping' that I would run from the 'meeting', bawling as I did so, and admitted that he was 'surprised' that I stayed, and endured, his 'soft-spoken, invalid diatribe', only to say to another person, after and later, via the Trinidad Pumpkin Vine Association, that I did not listen. Did I? Or did you? When you are on a high pedestal, make sure it is solid and impenetrable, and chain-saw resistant. Some folks believe that heir horse is so high, it can leap over tall buildings and swim in the strongest seas, but then that is what, Hitler thought, and his 1,000 year Reich rule did not make 10 years, you do the math.

So back to my namesake, and my short pin complex, that gets people so vex. When, you don't communicate your issues, it gets lost in a jumble of buttons, everyone would choose their favorite colour, and forget what you said. So it is elementary that I am a graphic designer, with original ideas, and a passion for design, and a very colourful (british spelling), speech of humorific proportions, and I tend to place colour and personality in everything. Apparently, I am deaf, and I do not listen to people, I also wear a hearing aid, and I can see the good in all folks...and will in a moments notice, spend two cents to throw rice at birds.

Butterflies named Elementary and Apparently, fly away, and come home safely.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

New Home

A very simple home that is cosy and comfortable and has made good use of the yard. It has 4Bedrooms, 1.5 baths, and a sizable kitchen. The washroom is downstairs, giving the living area more space. There is also a backdoor with stairs in case of emergency. If you want to see more pics, stay posted! Of course it would be lovely to get contributions as well.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Its Been a While...

I have been thrown curve balls for a while. Getting small jobs here and there, going to job interviews, and the like. I have met and made new friends and accomplices. Got some recent health issues and went to Tobago, which is where the above pic was taken. Some friends got married, and one more is getting married this week, I wish her all the best. Our Peugeot finally got sold and I got another 2nd hand vehicle, so life has had its ups and downs.

Studying again, more on that later, as a result I have gained a new level of self esteem. Recently, I just completed some new homes on Sketchup, and I did a new portfolio, with my home designs in it. I was so proud of myself. I intend to return here with some new recipes, and ideas for craft, seeing that I am getting more time, furthermore I have been working on a new website design, its still in the plans, so I have been very busy.

So stay tuned, I have got a ton of new stuff to display this week!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Long time no See!

Its a real long time I have not come in here. Well I have oficially rejoined the workforce, yet again. So, It has been pretty good to see my site. Hopefully, I will have a post for the new term in September. TC!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

A Dream-on Experience

Now I'm about to relate a dream, it is quite strange, to me anyway, how it worked out, because it was heading to some kind of nightmarish ending. Please, don't try to interpret, since I do not believe that dreams can foretell the future. Rather, I believe that dreams are imaginations of my fears, and my stresses. My dreams simply replay what I may have been thinking, sub-consciously. Here it is:

My sister and I were driving in our old Peugeot, we had just came from Hilo in Woodbrook on French Street. My sister was reading the newspapers on something on Halle Berry. As we neared Brooklyn Bar on Roberts Street, we saw a new restaurant or bakery opened next door, it had a large window, and inside was in a yellow and cream interior.

The employees wore purplish maroon overalls with caps, and a logo (I did not see this clearly). Three women and a tall young man were handling customer service, so I checked out the menus, and then returned to the car to tell my sister the price of the food and stuff.

As I stepped outside, I noticed the guys from the bar running out, I ran towards them and followed their gaze. On Roberts street, some men were handling a young woman with wild hair, blood was running down her mouth and she was trying to attack her handlers, she was wearing a long, brown dirty dress, and she looked like Halle Berry, but in a zombie form with dead eyes and everything. She was growling. On Roberts street at the corner diagonally opposite Brooklyn Bar, there is a concrete enclosed garbage dump. The Halle Berry zombie was tied to this dump, as the guys did not know what to do with her.

Soon after some women passed in their dark grey Benz, they looked like they were from the upper-middle class section of our culture. They were heading in the direction of Brooklyn Bar. "Look! Its Halle Berry!" the driver said. "She lives next door to me! What have these people done to her?" she continued. She parked her car, came out and went up to the chained up zombie. Next thing I know, she and her friends, started walking with the zombie and talking to it. The guys at the bar started running to them shouting, the ladies paid them no mind, until the zombie started to attack them.

By this time, my sister was out of the car and into the restaurant buying food. I ran to the car, and then into the restaurant, by this time ladies who were attacked started attacking other people. I ran into the restaurant, and shouted, "We have to go! Leave that lets go!" "Go where? I am getting the food." she replied. I looked outside the window and there was chaos. Then the door burst open, and there was the HB zombie blocking our exit. She lounged at my sister, and I pushed my sister away, and reached for the zombie. My sister ran into the car and brought out the chain-saw, "Look Lisa! Take it! Take it." "Help me!" I screamed. (It is interesting to note that at this point, I was physically feeling the zombie's strength in my dream, but I was not actually fighting it, I was watching the zombie fight myself in my dream). I pushed the zombie with my leg, and it fell into some chairs and tables at the corner of the restaurant. I grabbed the chain-saw, started it, and went for the zombie, again, we started fighting. (This time it was me myself fighting the zombie). The chain-saw, was not hurting the zombie, so I threw it along with the zombie over the food buffet display by the cashier, and bolted for the door. "Start the car!" I yelled to my sister. She started climbing into the driver's seat, I pushed her back, and started the car. Just then we saw a familiar face in the rear-view mirror. It was mommy, and despite the carnage around her, she was smiling and laughing walking towards us, in her hands were some large shopping bags. We moved the clothes in the back seat, let her in, and drove away.

What is strange about this dream is that, we got away, otherwise, we would've been hurt. In my dreams in the past, I used to be the only survivor, sometimes one of the victims. This dream, however, comes at a time that I desperately needed a job, as my financial position is almost nearing a disaster. I could not account for it. I went through hell this week, stressing over interviews, and thinking about whether I have made some good decisions, and what I would've done better. In my blackest days in the years past, I hardly ever survived any of my dreams. Sometimes, I got up screaming. That Thursday night dream, turned out to be one of the better ones. I am sorry to have dream about Halle Berry in such a dastardly manner, as she is one of my favorite actresses.

Its a long post, but read like a movie.

Monday, July 5, 2010

The F-Bomb and the Receiver of it

It is not uncommon to hear the F-Bomb these days. Television, movies, your boss, your uncle, people on the street, music, three-year olds (the proof is in Youtube), and even your mom say it. So, technically it is safe to say it is a common adjective. Although it is a very rotten one.

The F-Bomb, is used to make you feel the force of what a person is saying. And that I don't really have to explain, I will try to explain, only if you were born in another galaxy, and that galaxy has never ever been occupied or heard of by humans.

I have been a guilty user of that word once, and I tell you from personal experience, it is the most uncreative, stupid, and inflated-ego word. It gives you a sense of false pride, and on saying it, you say to yourself, "That'll show them." Until the other person returns the same F-Bomb sentiment. Only then you realize, you have been checkmated with a fellow pawn on a dirty linguistic chessboard game.

People seem to delight when legends use the word. If someone 'famous' says it, it takes on a sacred monument glow. If a homeless person uses it, it looks and smells like three day-old unfrozen fish. If a boss uses it, he is feared, but his respect loses value, like a two-week old dead rotten elephant. If Barbie use it...mothers would protest. I wonder, does the F-Bomb hold any significance today, than it would have done in the 1960's? The similarity is, that it still remains a very offensive word, the difference is, that today in the 21st century, you can market a perfume with that word on it, and it would sell, inoffensively.

When receiver of the F-Bomb internalizes the word, it shocks them, particularly when it is not in their personal vocabulary. There is a feeling of shock, headache, heart palpitations, and all round stress. It is even worse when someone who is supposed to love you, say it to you, like your husband, wife, siblings and parents, and worst of all your children.

The Rotten-Fish word is offensive, vulgar, uncreative, unimaginative and common. It does not help your situation in anyway (especially on job interviews). Lately, I have noticed a growing number of people who are opposed to the constant use of these types of words, and look forward to the day, that clean English language (or any language for that matter) could be the highest form of speaking.

Me, I have been very successful avoiding the use of that word since that black day. And yes, I have gotten very angry and stressed, and in intense situations, I walk away, count to ten, and move on. I am sure most of you have witnessed two people cussing, it is most embarrassing, and lack of good manners.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

A New Day

Today lunch is simple: Pepper Pork, Rice and leftover Macaroni, my roommate will flip.

So I am posting some pics of work I have done over the years. Enjoy!


Happy Lime

Clean up

These are on Sale:
Up to 8x10 Poster $12.00 USD

Email Me- to place your orders.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Rain falls when it wants to...

And we just have to deal with it. The rain is welcomed these days for many reasons:

(1) WASA would stop complaining (for real, because that swimming pool issue was unfair)
(2) The rain cleared the sky of all the floating dust that made my sinus act up
(3)I don't have to sweep my white, glossy tiles twice a day, plus dust the entire place, and the bed
(4) The place is really cool, less flies, and I have not broken out into a sweat since 8:00 am

While the rain fell, I took up reading again, I started reading past National Geographic magazines, since I acquired quite a bit, and my roommate is fussing about my quantity of books. On a hunch, I gave away some to a family of six children who lived on a hill, along with some fashion magazines like Vogue and Instyle as well as Mad magazines. However, I do regret giving away my NatGeo, and those were the magazines they loved the most. So, I promised myself that if I head to NYC again with some money, I would gift them a NatGeo subscription. Why NYC, because I hate being suckered by merchants in this beautiful twin island of ours.

Today, lunch is all vegetarian, first time in a long time.

My favorite issues were the skin issue, the solar issue, the baby mammoth issue, and the issues about Myanmar, and other countries I have never thought of visiting. So, one day I will be able to get and gift NatGeo subscriptions.

A page taken from the Skin issue of Nation Geographic, which is certainly not copyrighted by me.

P.S. Did you know that there was an issue on Leatherback Turtles nesting sites in Trinidad and Tobago? Now you know and you heard it here first!