beer and burgers and the weekend that was

A bit overdue I know … but I’ve been processing. Gotta love the processing part lol.

As Friday night closed and Saturday morning rolled around, I ended up more stressed than anxious I think. To most, they may seem like the same thing – To Me they are distinctly different. Stress, of the mundane kind, I can deal with but it makes Me butt ugly angry. So if anything, I call it being pissed off; those looking on, call it ‘over dramatised stress’. So really thats got more to do with them, than Me. And anxiety, for Me, is the pre requisite for a panic attack. The distinct difference, is the latter is a debilitating ass wipe that leaves Me feeling vulnerable, not angry.

Angry gets shit done.

Vulnerable leaves you debilitated.

So, rolling with stressed on Saturday morning, I’m asking the partner (because this is his soirée) …

‘so, what time is everyone coming?’ … ‘dunno’ …

‘what time did you tell people to come?’ … ‘saturday’ …

Oh my fuck! And thats how most of the day rolled out.

Now I’ve come to grips with the partner being as he is. A man. He doesn’t plan like Me; he doesn’t organise, anything – and he definitely doesn’t do time frames. He actually adds to the anxiety that is Me, but I’ve also learnt a lot from him … I’ve had too otherwise I’d be fucking insaner than I already am!

So 12 o’clock rolls by, as does 1 … and I’m hungry as fuck lol.

‘Dear … can we make some food?’ … ‘Um … I haven’t got any buns … they’re coming’


So peeps start arriving at this point and there isn’t any food.

“Learning Moment” … I pulled the partner aside and ever so gently said to him …

“Do you have a Plan B sweetheart?” … ‘Nope’ … “So this is where, as anal as I am, I would have a Plan B”. He looks at Me a little astounded and says, “Ok, so if I was to have a Plan B, what do you suggest that should be?” …

Oh my fuck, is all I’m thinking.

“Plan B would have been purchasing some spare buns and having them in the cupboard. It would be buying more than 1 lettuce to feed 25 people … so maybe 4 or 5 … and then the rest of the salad ingredients … Plan B would be ensuring I had all the meat patties here and ready to go.”

“Ohhhhh” … says Partner … “That sounds good”.


And while that conversation right there pretty much sums up the whole day: I must say, I coped pretty fucking gangstah-ly with the whole thing!

The family came – landed – caused chaos – and departed. And I watched, slightly interacted, and felt reasonably unaffected.

The friends came – landed – settled in – caused abit of chaos – and departed. And again, I watched, slightly interacted where I wanted too, and felt reasonably unaffected.

What I found super duper interesting, is whilst I was ‘Managing Myself’, quite a few of those around Me found that -how would you put it – threatening?!. They wanted Me to engage in their incessant grizzling; they wanted Me to ‘put shoes on’; they wanted Me to drink; the wanted Me to eat more. And as I said No, or thank you – No thank you … they squirmed something awful. It made them feel enormously uncomfortable. And usually that discomfort effects Me, as in it makes Me feel anxious. But not this time.

I was able to see what was happening, and more importantly, see that it wasn’t my problem at all 🙂

So as the night wore on I ended up being one of the last ones awake. There were a few hard cores that stayed up and drank themselves into a stupor. But all in all, I enjoyed my night. And so did my partner!

What I was mostest proudest of for him and Me, is we both managed ourselves; did our thang, separately and individually … but we both allowed each other to do Us. It was quite liberating for the both of Us 😉 I think he enjoyed not having to ‘babysit’ Me. He’s figured out that I am capable of managing myself, its just other people that don’t like how I do that, but thats not his problem – Or Mine 🙂

There was an ‘incident’, of which I am still processing – whereby a friend took offence to another friends manner. As I have been told – the 2nd friend was hitting on the first friends husband.

What I found most interesting, again … is while I’m pretty good at picking up whats going on around Me; somehow, I completely missed this!

My daughter said to Me later, that I hadn’t picked it up because I’m ‘not like that’. I didn’t, and still don’t, understand, what that means. But she says I don’t do drama therefore hadn’t picked up on what I guess I deemed to be, un-necessary drama. I was a bit distraught that our mate had been offended and felt uncomfortable by the whole situation – but it did leave Me wondering – If that was a flirtatious encounter that was witnessed by everyone around Me, then it wasn’t very good!

Needless to say – I don’t have a romantic or flirtatious bone in my body 😉

So, all in all, a good weekend … many burgers consumed (finally), and many beers had … and for Me, survival skills employed succinctly! I think I’m looking forward to the next event, which is fucking amazing for Me !

formal education, baby brother and religion…1977

Five years old. That’s when the ‘formal education’ period starts. The A B Cs are refined; the sound and colour and shape of them are repeated and rehearsed over and over again. Your taught to sit straight, clean everything that accumulates under your fingernails before you cut them. Here your ‘tsked’ and reprimanded for looking sleepy during mat time; singled out and pulled up for ‘answering out of turn’ and for appearing ‘disinterested’. Formal schooling, where the haves and have-not’s all mingle together into one large incestral bunch; but it’s still quite plain to see who ‘has’ and who ‘does not’. From the creased clothing and unkempt hair; the smell of unhygienic-ness to the lack or ‘stack’ of lunch in the lunch box. This coagulation of primates all bundled together to learn what the Crown has specified is important for the minions to learn in this generation, to regurgitate for the generations to come.

I started school in a new town. My god. So many kids. So many smells. So much talking!

But I started this ‘period’ with a burden. And strangely enough, no one noticed. I perceived this in later years, as not caring. But I think they just didn’t notice, and didn’t really want to notice. In this era, the art of turning a blind eye, was honed and professionalised!

But I remember writing, a ‘lower case’ ‘a’, over and over again…wondering what on earth this was about. Part of a larger scheme? Possibly, but I didn’t know what or why and no one felt any urgency to fill me in on the details. As I’ve come to realise, I always want to know the larger scheme of things so I can put everything into perspective. Even at 5, I needed to know, but no one thought to answer my questions….and there was no Google back then! Oh what I wouldn’t have done for a couple of hours of good Googling lol.

My baby brother was born about this time too. I don’t remember my mother being pregnant and I vaguely remember when she had him, labour I mean. I stayed with my Grandparents. There was no ‘father’ around. Not that I had or hadn’t noticed, but apparently this wasn’t a very good thing.

I remember getting a really big dolls house from my good uncle, for a birthday I think. He had apparently gotten really angry and smashed things up because the doll’s house was too big to get out of the door of the room that he had built it in lol. Apparently this was a bad thing too…but I loved that doll’s house! It was HUGE!

This was also the time that I remember those around me ‘finding Jesus’ too….I wondered where it was that he was hiding?? And did he actually want to be found? Anyway, they were all elated to have found him, but shit started getting serious after that! Apparently, after one has found Jesus, there’s a lot of stuff that needs to change…no more getting angry, no cursing, definitely no smoking or fornication, no drinking, no jealousy, no misbehaving, no answering back, no no no no…lots of NOs. I still didn’t understand it though.

We found Jesus, so he could tell us lots of No’s? Hmmmmm….had Jesus smoked and fornicated (whatever that was!), drank and cursed too?

I hadn’t!

Why had he said not to do all those things? The answer to that was, ‘so we didn’t go to hell’….really?

Why were we going to hell in the first place and what the hell was hell?? Fire and damnation apparently, ah durrr!

So why were we going to a very hot place where they curse? ‘Just do as your told so you don’t go to hell’…. Ohhh Kaaayy….

‘And don’t ask so many questions…you don’t need to know everything’.

And that’s how my journey with religion and stifled silence got started …shot Jesus, you sounded like a douche!

(First published 25th May 2015 @1215 … Hollah!)


mauri of me #25 ~ moko #3

Like all the mokos, moko #3 is special … and being a nanny means I am completely biased … as I should be. However, what gets Me about moko #3, or little miss 8 now … is she’s a pain in the ass lol. What admire though is how she is able to ‘read the room’ (in her unique way) and figure out in minutes what a person’s vulnerability or sore point is. She generally can figure out what she needs to do to exploit that persons weakness to get what she wants. On its own, this ‘trait’ sounds kinda dodgy lol … but I realised one day, that this shit is what people train for when they go into sales … how to read a person and exploit their ‘weakness’ to get a sale.

Well miss moko has figured out how to do this all on her own 😉

Whats also interesting though, is she won’t exploit the ‘actual’ vulnerable.

We have a nephew who has severe CP, and miss 8 / moko #3, will spend hours playing quietly with him. This is a 2 fold thing for her though … 1. she’s able to hang out with the nephew and spend time with him and 2. when she wants quiet time, if she goes by him, no-one bugs her because ‘polite people’ can’t deal with a severely impaired CP nephew; so they leave them both alone. Now how freaking genius is that.

I admire that moko #3 is able to manage her; is able to get what she needs and what she wants; I admire that she pushes every and any boundary to adjust and find her own; I admire that she pisses people off so easily and isn’t terribly phased – cos you know how many years people sit in a councillors office trying to figure this shit ay!; I admire that she ‘sees’ people – their insides – their intent – long before the person can themselves.

Added to all this charm, moko #3 is an awesome little fashionista. She knows what she likes and how to put it together and she doesn’t give a rats ass what other people think or say … because there have been some rude bastards comment on how ‘she’s put together’, criticising her style. But she brushes it off like it aint no thing … and usually gives them a look of  … ‘what ever ; you obviously have no idea’ lol. Not once does she take any of that criticism on board!

I love miss moko #3 … I can’t wait to see what she does next 😉


activism ~ responding to the over-representation of Maori in prison

The following article is an adequate and interesting look at the common, apparent ’causes’ of over representation of Maori in the Crowns prison system.  As I read through however, I found myself asking the questions I usually do, that never really get answered.

The usual Question“Angry boys. We get a lot of angry boys. What is the root cause of that anger?”

The usual Answer ~ “…the usual suspects of educational failure and family breakdown as the biggest contributors to young Maori heading towards criminal behaviour.”

My Question ~ Is that really what makes Us angry??

You see, when they say ‘educational failure’, they mean failure in the mainstream pakeha education. When they say ‘family breakdown’ they are referring to ‘imported’ addictions, that we didn’t indulge in prior to white invasion; they’re referring to behaviour, like domestic violence, that we didn’t indulge in prior to white invasion; they’re referring to a family unit that consists of Mother, Father and point 2 children, all living in one house isolated from a wider family unit, which we didn’t indulge in prior to white invasion.

The idea that we are ‘broken’ is from a completely ethnocentric point of view.

Does that make Us angry? Fuck Yes. And this doesn’t scratch the entire impact of the colonisation process on who we were and who we are now.

Responding to the over representation of Maori in prison.

birthdays birthdays

April and June are our birthday steroid months. I think theres 5 or 6 in April and the same for June.

Cool Story … lol,

Which brings Me to this weekend; where there will be, what was going to be, a small gathering of friends and fams.

Last count 25 and rising … eek.

All good … I’m breathing … I have my toolkit … eek.

Seriously though … this will be the first time in about 4 years that I’ve been in the same vicinity with all of the fams – both sides.

Eek and double eek.

Oh and I have drugs if I need them 😉

Wish Me luck … if I can pull this shit off without offending anyone to badly or having a giant ass meltdown … the possibilities could be endless 😉

Oh, and my father is apparently flying into the country on Saturday … again … maybe.