Foul & grumpy

Today I am in a foul and grumpy mood. I do not feel like being witty and smart and funny. That requires too much effort of which I do not have much today. So I shall wallow in my foulness (that suddenly sounded very gross) and grumpiness until such time as I feel like smiling again.

Happy New Year, my ass!

Church on Christmas Eve

It's not all that often that I go to church. Maybe once a year. And Christmas Eve is usually that once a year. So this year I trotted off to the Sixth Presbytarian Church in Squirrel Hill. Here it is:

It was a nice service - as far as services go. Some carols, some readings from the Bible. A nice over-all Christmas feeling, and that's what I was hoping for.

Hope you all had a super Christmas/Hannukah/Eid and that 2010 brings you much health, happiness and prosperity.

My "friend" in Ghana

This was in my email's junk folder. For the life of me I can't imagine why it would be in my junk folder:

"Dear friend, (he calls me friend but I don't know who this fella is)


My name is Mr. Ahmed Owusu a branch bank manager here in Ghana. After several official enquiries from the foreign trade office of our Chambers of Commerce and Industry, I decided to contact you directly for assistance. (of course you did, because I'm a financial big shot)

I am interested to transfer in your country through your assistance. I am in Ghana presently and I have the sum of Fifteen Million Eight Hundred and Fifty Thousand US Dollars which I would like to transfer into your account and invest in your country if possible. (15 million? pocket change, mate)

I made this money (US$15,850,000.00) out of my branch office excess profit for the 2007 fiscal year. (are you telling me the truth? this sounds like some shady business dealing) I choose you because I cannot be directly involved for I am still working with the bank, I hope you can understand my situation and assist me to receive and invest this money properly as this is my only hope. (oh I totally understand, why on earth would you want to transfer it here through a bank anyway? they will only charge you fees) You will get 30% of the total fund as commission for your sympathetic co-operation while 70% will be for me. (30%? you are too generous. I'll tell you what, I'll do it for free, out of the kindness of my heart - my early Christmas present to you)

Please kindly get back to me ASAP.

Best regards,

Mr. Ahmed Owusu."

Now listen up!

That's right, a little "see say" action going on here. So listen up, and listen good. This is what I want for Christmas this year:

1. A round-trip first class air ticket to South Africa
2. A job. A FULL-TIME job. With benefits. Like healthcare. And a 401(k) (pension)
3. A car. And it doesn't even have to be a BMW Z4. But if I did get one, I'd like one in gun metal grey. Thanks.
4. A hunting rifle. I'm in SW PA. I wanna learn to hunt. And yes, squirrels count. I doubt I could ever skin a deer.
5. I want to have my gas switched on (in my apartment). It's horribly expensive here in the U.S. so I am holding off until the very last minute, until I can't stand the cold any more.

That's all I want. Nothing crazy greedy. Just random stuff.

Today at work ...

...my boss' husband told me I needed a hair cut. If I snip my locks, what will keep my ears warm?? Besides, my hair is the stuff of shampoo commercials. Soft, silky, shiny and all those other great adjectives they use.

And tomorrow we are having our Holiday Lunch at Schenley Park Cafe. If you happen to stop by, look out for me. I'll be the one who needs a hair cut.

Someone's been grating ice

Bucket-loads of the stuff by the looks of things. I woke up on Saturday afternoon (yes, afternoon, as in past noon) and this spectacle was beset before mine own eyes!

And to think, just a few posts ago I was saying what a "smattering of snow: looked like. Pffff. Looks like someone up there has been busy. But it looks pretty and it's moer se koud (swearing in Afrikaans).

These were taken around my little apartment in the east end of Pittsburgh. You like?

And then, the next day, the sun came out just to blind us all. Yes, it was still blinding white outside. But it was still mighty purdy. And if you thought driving the highway from Cape Town to Durban was insidiously dangerous, try taking a spin on roads like this.

One word. Brrrrrrrrrrr.

I was born and raised in Africa and spent six years living in the Middle East. I don't do cold.

This year, Christmas will be at my sister's house. Tell everyone!

My sister is an odd creature. She believes that certain things should always - and under no circumstance should this rule be overseen - stay in their place. She likes to organize, arrange, snap at, and make things so that they are just so.

Bless. She is indeed a special one.

And this year, she has decided that everyone and Hitler is invited to Christmas at her house. Ok, so Hitler isn't really invited, partly because my brother-in-law's family is Jewish, so you can just imagine there would be a little tension at the table.

But anyway, Miss Malone is having my mother, my other sister, my younger brother, my mother's love interest, my niece and nephew and her husband all neatly squashed in at the table for Christmas lunch. And let me tell you, she has put together a feast that would fatten up the skinniest African refugee.

I'm guessing there will be one seat left empty because that's where my bony ass should be. But alas, I shall not be there for Christmas. I shall be here. But I am sure that with enough people to start an uprising, her house will be festive, full and bursting at the seams.

... there was CRASH, BOOM, BANG!

Last night, sadness loomed in only a way that sadness can loom.

I arrived home to find my large, over-sized window flung open. Waves of freezing cold air came undulating through my apartment turning it into a cold, desolate cave. And then I saw them.

Years ago, when I was a marooding caravaner strolling through the dry deserts of the Middle East, I happened upon a small hut - quite like most clay huts one would imagine seeing in an arid desert. But in this hut was a lonely pottery thrower. You see, they call people who make things from pottery "throwers". I don't know why because they don't really "throw" the pottery (or clay). Otherwise that could get very messy, very quickly. But I deviate. I walked into this unairconditioned hut and parted with a few Bahraini Dinars for a few pieces of hand-thrown pottery. I was most proud.

My four pieces of hand-thrown pottery made it across the deserts, across the Atlantic Ocean, and across the vast plains of the American wilderness. And all arrived in-tact.

And last night, the wind blew the window open and the window decided it didn't like two of my pottery pieces sitting up on the built-in book shelf, so off they went. And now this is what they look like.

I was sad and morose for a short time for verily these are not items one can pick up from Macy's downtown. But then again, they are merely "things".

Pity though. They were beautiful. And at least I still have two other pieces left.

... I send off my Christmas cards

It's that time of year again - when I head off to various stores and pick up some Christmas cards for the chosen few. In a few days (or, if you're lucky, a few months if you live down in South Africa) mail boxes will be brimming with bright red envelopes, and inside will be a nice big Christmas card with handwritten words that would surely melt even Hitler's heart.

If you're fortunate enough to receive one such hand-written gesture of my holiday generosity, count yourself lucky. I only send out about ten a year. Not because I'm a Scrooge, but because it takes so much effort. Buying stamps, sitting down and trying to be all deep and stuff, then mosying on down to the Post Office and dropping them off in the big blue boxes.

So far I have received exactly zero Christmas cards this year. That's right, zero. As in zip, zilch, nada. But that's ok. Christmas is about giving - and for those folks who didn't send me a card this year, I'll be giving them a long 'what for'.

Ho ho ho!

... I explain what a "smattering of snow" looks like

Last week it was cold. I mean it was bloody cold! Cold enough that the sky opened just a smidge and some white stuff came down. Not a lot, mind you. Just a little. Like someone was shaving God's tears. Or maybe the Big Guy had a spot of dandruff.

Either way, there wasn't enough of it to stick, but it sure was pretty. And that's the only 'snow' we've had here in Pittsburgh so far this winter. It's odd.