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.

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?

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.

Modern Contemporary Beach Home

I 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:
-kitchen
-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.

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.

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.

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 about...cars? 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.