Good morning from Philadelphia! (Yet
another blog post magically appears while I check my eyelids for holes…hahahahhahaha…that’s
HIS excuse for when he needs to sleep.
All of a sudden his eyelids feel like tea strainers! So good morning from me too. ‘Cause I’m awoke now. And he’s over there with his tea strainer
eyelids. I think when he’s snores like
that? It’s actually his eyelid hole
detectors at work. You know? Sounds like
hard work, LOL!)
Well, I can’t honestly say it’s a good morning. Time is
winding down on the Rambler & I and it is by far the worst part of our
relationship. (Gospel truth right
there. I always hate having to watch him
stand there, and nod. It’s like he’s
saying to me, “You can do it…just…lift the other foot now and place it in front
of the other…thatttttttt’s it… one step at a time…” And of course that means one step further
away from him and closer to where I have to go through the “non-returnable”
section of the airport where the only direction left to walk is away…until at
some point I can’t even see his encouraging nods while his heart is breaking as
much as mine is but because he’s a stickler for doing the right thing…he
encourages me anyway.)
Whenever it is time for her to head on back to Durban, it is
always the worst part of us being together. We’ve talked extensively about
getting onto that last page & finally getting married & moving our
family’s in together, which will make for an interesting family portrait, to
say the least! A total of four children with two being grown & two
same-aged boys wanting to be grown. (We’d
make millions being the face of “The Rainbow Nation”. Who better than a family consisting of Two
Black Americans + One Russian Jesus + Three Coloured South Africans.)
I’ve honestly talked about moving to South Africa, since I
am the more adaptable of the two of us. (Change is uncomfortable for me, and I’m not
talking about a new accounting programme at work. And even that would make me horribly unhappy for
a few days until I get the hang of it. Most
of my family would agree that, that part?
I get that from parents. Look? They had DSTV installed? Which I would say is the equivalent of cable
here in the States. My mum? Would not budge from the local SABC channels
while clutching the remote tightly inside her fisted hands! So? What
hope do I have of transitioning, without difficulty, to a new country, new way
of doing things, new side of the road to drive on, new new new? But that’s the keyword right there. If you don’t have hope? What do you have? If I never had hope to begin with, then at
which point would the long distance train had fallen off of its tracks? Granted, Geese is a huge part of us even
reaching this point because I am more of a quitter than he is, but this, my
friends, is not for the faint hearted. I
wouldn’t have thought that it was for the wrong-side hearted too, but we’re
still here. Still going strong. Still…have hope!)
I constantly worry about her being so far away from her
family & friends, but the viability of me moving there is not really a
smart move all the way around. (Especially since we’re taught to sit on our
mouths rather than open them and honestly speak about what we think and feel.
Instead it’s the “better” way to grumble underneath your unhappy breath and
just find a way to live around the crap going on…around you. Unfortunately, that’s not the school that the
Geeseter attended. And even in our
discussions about him moving over there?
We’ve always looked at the fact that universally, it’s always the
same. When someone comes in to upset the
applecart, be it on a personal level, family level, or country level? Nnnnnnnnnnnn…good things don’t alwayyyyys
follow.) It’ll definitely pass the
“creature comforts”-test & the “feel-good”-test, but not the “WTF this
makes no sense”-test!
First of all my child support payments to my not wrapped too
tight ex-wife, would get extremely complicated. The RAND doesn’t hold up well
to the Dollar & then making sure that I find a decent job in Durban, is a
huge must, because the last thing I need or want is the local domestic court
thinking I’ve fled the country to evade child support or some silly s—t like
that. My main concern after that is the random crime that I was well-aware of
before I ever met my sexy rambler. What are the odds that I’d go to an American
high school while apartheid was winding down in South Africa, WITH SOUTH
AFRICANS, WEST AFRICANS & AN ETHOPIAN! HA! Then again I also went to school
with Central Americans, some European-Whites of non-American descent & I
threw that part in there because of the craptastic American Census Bureau’s
listing of Hispanics. When HISPANICS AREN’T A RACE! Yes, yes, yes! Look at the
Black American being American & being obsessed with Race, ay look! When in
Pre-Christian Rome you can act Christian if you want! There’s a lion with your
name on it & its teeth ready to partake of your sweet Christian ARSE!
Hahahahahahhahaah, I said arse! HAHAHAHAHAHH! If ya like getting bit on the bum
then I guess you can act dumb, right! CRIKEY! Damn manta rays don’t know how to
take a freakin joke!
All disrespectful tasteless humor aside, that pisses me off.
Because the actual second largest majority in America are, you guessed it fans!
BLACK AMERICANS! Nothing like minding your own business & then finding out,
wait, what!? How the f—k are you gonna replace our standing as the largest
minority in America with a FAKE RACIAL GROUP ETHNICITY CON GAME! Well, I’ll
tell you how, it’s because we haven’t actually garnered enough real power to
put that fear in the White American lawmakers to say “I don’t think they’re
gonna riot & burn down their own neighborhoods this time. These cheeky
bastards & bitches stop buying s---t up like it’s goin outta style &
start savin their money, we’re gonna be in serious trouble if they just stop
spending money on s---t we directly control & profit from!”
Heh, & you thought I was gonna say take to the streets
& protest, HAHAHHAHAHAHAH! THAT DOESN’T WORK ANYMORE! ANYWHERE! You can toi
toi & Bishop Tutu all you want, doesn’t work anymore. But you take your
hand out your pocket! Raise it in the air in a fist full of dollars, OR RAND!
And then STUFF IT BACK IN YOUR POCKET WHILE YOU SCREAM AT THE IDIOT THAT PISSED
YOU OFF “F YOU!” Then you consciously keep your money to yourself & spend
it in a manner that YOU KNOW is gonna hurt that a-hole!? Watch how quickly they
come running when their profit margin goes from a FRIENDLY BLACK! Into a not so
friendly RED! Then they wanna talk. They wanna “hear you out”. Then they wanna
“how can we make things right”. Mind you, you can only play this cockblocking
card, ONCE! Rest assured in this age of greedy bastards & bitches they’ll
do everything they can to try to figure out a way to avoid you holding them by
the monetary nut sack & telling them to cough or else! So you gotta be
ready for when they come calling to try to get you to start spending money on
them & their goods & services again. Prime example; the Southern Bus
Boycott in the 60’s by Black Americans. It put A LOT of White owned businesses
out of business & not just the White owned public transit companies who
kept talking about give up your seats to Whites & Blacks to the back. But
instead of Blacks understanding that we’d not only saved a pretty penny by
boycotting these idiots, who wanted to pretend like they didn’t know that most
Blacks in the south were poor & needed the bus systems to get to work &
essentially wipe White Americans collective asses! But with necessity still
being the mother of all inventions, Blacks during the boycott created a carpool
system to make sure people got to work. It is amazing sometimes when you see
someone or a group of people just get it done & then NOT REALIZE THAT THEY
DON’T NEED TO GO BACK TO THE IDIOTS THEY JUST GOT AWAY FROM!
(By the silence that I
now speak? O_o! You can clearly see that I don’t partake in these
conversations…I don’t know enough about history and my brain doesn’t know
enough about memory…so, I’m here…listening and acknowledging that I shoulda
paid more attention in History class.
But no. No. That’s not even it. We didn’t cover all of this in History at
school. Van Riebeck and the Voortrekkers
and Dick King and trade with the East for curry powder and gheera powder and
Shaka Zulu and Dingaan…Overdressed Whites and Underdressed Blacks….uuuuuuurgh. And see that?
That reaction is precisely why I don’t remember History. Geese’ll tell you? I don’t like something? I block it.
Bury it. Barbecue it. Anything to make it Be gone!)
Bottom line is that during that boycott, Blacks had crippled
the southern economy of the United States, & by default, the US economy as
a whole. Simply by refusing to ride the buses in the south. They then created a
carpool system so that those who had cars would pick up & drop off those
who didn’t. The bus companies & various state & local officials came
crawling & instead of being told “Uhhhhhh, why exactly would I go back to
YOURRRRRRRRRRR, public transportation system, WHEN I JUST MADE MY FREAKIN OWN
YOU MORON!” And they did. The next NATURAL STEP, was to start charging a small
fee amongst themselves, which I’m sure they probably were already getting in
people giving up gas money to the drivers. Next NATURAL STEP is the more
enterprising members of the boycott, trading in their cars & using their
cash to buy vans, not buses. And continuing to provide service & working
out a decent fare rate or fee. The bad part is that the “RADICAL CRAP” I am
talking & typing, was considered just that by leaders like Dr. Martin
Luther King. Which is RARELY MENTIONED. It is rarely mentioned that it was
considered RADICAL, to go the next logical step in the process of becoming
& being self-sufficient & independent of someone, anyone! Who only
wants to get the best from you, get your money, get your services, get your
intellectual ideas. But then give you slop, s----t & crap back in return.
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, am I saying all of this? Because
this Blackman, is tired of having his woman having to ramble back home because
he’s not making enough money to be able to bring her & her family here to
stay. OH YEAH! Times are hard for the Geeseter, but I’ve reached the point that
this whole “I’ll see you next year” thing, is old. The Rambler & I have
been working on a book & as a matter of fact she’s typing up chapter two,
as we’re moving closer & closer to her having to head back to Durban on
saturday. She wrote a book called Broken & began shopping it for
publication. But she’s always wanted me to work on expanding her book &
even reworking, rewriting it, as I saw fit. At the time I was working on
something of my own, but much like the Blacks during the Bus Boycott, I wasn’t
really trying to follow things out to their NATURAL NEXT STEP.
Mmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmmmm, yeah, I tricked ya! You thought, look at this guy with
his racial bitching & moaning! He has a point to this pointlessness or am I
wasting my time reading his SLOP! Heh. Heh. Heh. I’ve allllllllllllllllllways
got a point to what I’m doing. It’s usually a plan, inside of a plan, inside of
a plan, leading to a TRAP! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! Le Rambler can attest to that! (Mmmmm_M!) And I realized that she’d
finished Broken & I was struggling with my own book & she’d been
begging me for awhile to just use her book & expand on & rewrite
whatever I felt was needed to make the book even better than what it already was.
AND SO!?!?! That is my main goal gringos! To finish this book & see where
it takes US, because of course we’re both in it together, as we should be! But
like Michael Cain said “I don’t wanna be
a chimney sweep, so? I’ll see how this whole acting thing goes & if I can
make the same amount as being a chimney sweep. Then I’ll stick with that.”
And I understand EXACTLY, what he meant. Most of my adult
professional employment life has been as a BILL. COLLECTOR. >_< And I
hate it. Grrrrrrr, asking or demanding people pay bills, when I have
outstanding bills my damnself!? HIPPO! CRIT! Hypocrite! Hate bill collector
jobs. But at this point I need to find one for the money, but I can’t stand
them, SO!?!?!? Soon as my sweetheart heads out of here I’m gonna have to
stomach another bill collector job, BUT!?!?! IT’S
ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL, A TRICK! To be able to pay my bills while
working on OUR BOOK! And because Stacey’s original book was called Broken (You know he’s serious when he calls me
Stacey…:-\), I had to come up with a way to maintain her book while
creating something that I myself could really dig into & thus the new title
& concept for; Broken Griffin. (If you enjoy sci-fi, you’re gonna enjoy
this book immensely. He’s taken my
Romantic drama, maintained the characters, introduced some new ones, maintained
the core original parts of my book including my written work, swung it this way,
beat it that way and VIOLA! A future
sci-fi MOVIE in the making!)
And now it IS a good morning, because I’ve gone from being
down about my woman leaving. To looking at a REALISTIC WAY to solve our
long-distance dilemma & work towards a future where we not only don’t have
to worry about saying goodbye to each other anymore, but!? Doing something
professionally that we’re both good enough to get paid for! ^_^!!!!! (^_^!!!!!!!)You can always stomach
crappy times when you have a better & brighter alternative that you know
you can HONESTLY REACH! (I don’t like it
when he says that because I’m like, “I demand the liberty of being depressed
about this here, crappy time. It is crappy.
And depressing, hence the need for me to be react this crappy depressed way. It’s called, action and reaction.” And then, strolling through my eardrum, comes
the voice of reason, “But I’ve always tried to teach you, Precious, that if you
have to suffer some temporary discomfort for what will bring you a permanent positive
result, in the future? Then it’s worth
it…C’mon now. Cheer up.” And then I
grind my teeth about, “Stop making so much sense all the time…?”)
LATER!
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