Saturday, December 20, 2014

Bon Voyage 2014...

It's almost the close of another year. Is it time to count the goals achieved, the goals not met, or agonise over the complete and utter lack of any visionary mission for self-amelioration? Or better/worse still, time to "set" new unreachable goals?

The 2015 "Executive" diary has already arrived. It's strictly for work engagements. Personal goals seem to be rather obscure; other than the mundane '"let's be happy and healthy" chorus.

A summary of 2014 would read something like this :

  1. January and February were dedicated to work.
  2. March, April, and May were a paper correction and work haze.
  3. June whizzed by, and I seem to have absolutely no memory of it.
  4. July, August, and September were work again. Very HARD work.
  5. October and November were a commingling of memory, desire and examination anxiety.
  6. December brought an examination adrenaline rush, and now there's more to be done on the academic and work front before the curtain falls.

Hmm...what else am I supposed to be/have done? Wife, mother, daughter, sister, daughter-in-law, friend/etc.? 

I seem adrift like most of J.M. Coetzee's protagonists. A symbol whose sign is a disastrous amalgamation of undecipherable and completely arbitrary signifiers and signifieds. 

I'm an insider/outsider. I'm the margin as well as the centre. A desiring machine which is chaotically grasping at conservative, and simultaneously emancipatory lines of flight. 

Basically, I'm Antionio Gramsci's traditional intellectual flummoxed by rather organic predicaments. 

Viola...history always repeats itself. I'm me. The end.


2015 though is highly it should be. To misquote Coetzee, when one year sails, philosophise; the next seems rosier. 

Friday, July 04, 2014

New shoes...

Even the best may bite initially, or on occasional overuse; but the inevitable comfort of a proper fit brings indescribable relief.

The shoe analogy could be infinitely extrapolated. If the feet aren't right, we just plain stumble. No humungous epiphany here.

Not surprisingly we begin our fairy tales with Cinderella and her dainty glass slippers. We win when we fit the delicate shoe.

Fit the shoe? Really? 

I'll let the shoe fit. We're spoilt for choice with the advent of globalisation. 


Was I talking footwear? Maybe. Maybe not. 


Moral of the story : Wear socks. Shoes can't be trusted !!!

Friday, January 31, 2014

The Articulate & Aching Noggin....

I've realised I'm definitely NOT a "Sun 'n' Sand" person !!!!!!!!!

My lungs feel like tar soaked sponge. My nasal passages are blocked. My head is throbbing. It's been an ouch ouch day. And also an ouch day in terms of realising that blogging is becoming a habit of the past.

Jane Austen chides pretentious wives who give up their "hobbies" post marriage. I always considered this post marital/maternity syndrome a myth. When a colleague pointed out that I have been an inactive blogger for almost a year, I realised I'd over stewed my apples. Baby time led to no blog time; and voila, my applesauce turned rancid.


In other news, do I have new insight to share on motherhood/maternity/blah blah? No. Non. Nein.

Do I feel different? Maybe. Who doesn't? The stretch marks and floppy belly are probably going to be lasting reminders.

Do I want to talk about the maternal instinct ad nauseam? I don't think so. I love my daughter, but I'd much rather shirk the mother mantle as such. I don't wish to shrug it off, but I have little intention of eulogising it.


Else, my life and its hardly-have-time times go on.....c'est la vie !!!