Friday, 31 July 2009

The Road To Recovery

I've been pensive on the fact of whether or not I could write a blog about not being able to write a blog. It pains me somewhere inside to see the days go by and I have absolutely nothing to say.

But I always have something to say. It is more about whether or not you care to read about it. (Whatever IT may be.)

Maybe I should write about how I coughed my way to sleep two nights in a row; or maybe I should write about how I slept for over 24hours up until this morning; or maybe about how I am currently beach ready and taking a vitamin C pill in preparation for the "wet." Or would you rather me talk about the possibility of having H1N1 - also known as "Why did you kiss that pig little Mexicana."

The list goes on.

I could even write about how Blackberry's seem to be taking over the world, 10 fingers at a time. Even the taxi drivers have them. I sometimes wonder if they are a part of a secret cult or something, and they sit there bb-ing each other all day; who to pick up, who to drive past - you know "she did not pay me enough last time so she's just going to have to walk. You tell the rest of the guys I said not to pick her up."

Anyway, it makes you so much more uncool unique now if you have an iPhone - God forbid you have anything else; why then you're just a loser.

Well, I guess I have just wasted five minutes of your time. If it makes you happy, at least now I can breathe through my nose. But, I am sure you can pardon me here, considering I am still sick and slightly delusional.

Sunday, 26 July 2009

I Can't Breathe Through My Nose

Let me begin by saying UGH! (It is really more of a sound than a word, or rather to the Grammar folks, an Onomatopoeia.) Either way, that is the one word that explains how I have been feeling these past few days.

As if Jamaica is not hot enough already, these hot flashes and cold sweats are really giving me a hard time. I do not want to blame my outing on Friday night for my feeling this way, but unfortunately, the cool night air did in fact perpetuate my problem; so much so that I had to leave early. I did manage to catch Jasmine Sullivan, Keri Hilson, and Ne-yo while I was still fully functional.

Sinus allergies never seem to leave me, though. I have been blessed so many times that I think I should have won the lotto by now, or at least found some money lying around somewhere.

Throughout my entire freshman year of college, I managed to sneeze my way into bloody noses waking me up every morning for a week straight. I know, TMI. But waking up because you are draining blood all over your pillow is just as disgusting as it sounds. Not what I bargained for as my first year's dorm experience. I'm thinking either there was some kind of mold growing beneath the walls - because they swore up and down the air vents were brand new - or my nose truly dislikes me.

Anyway, I am finally home from a long day of sneezing, sweating, and sniffling, and what am I going to do now?

Go to the beach. And yes, I do plan to swim.

Friday, 24 July 2009

Give Me That Vitamin C

It is 8:30 pm and I am just getting home from the beach. I am a bit afraid to tell you that I woke up this morning to my nose training for a marathon, and quite possibly there are not enough numbers in existence to calculate the amount of times I have sneezed.

But my blog today is not about me and my annoying allergies. Nor is it about my day four hours at the beach. This is about what happened after.

I am planning to go to that Reggae Show I've told you about tonight, even though I swore I would not go unless I got a free pass. Well, it turns out the free pass opportunity did just that - passed me freely. (It is hard for me to ask for favours, and I'd like to consider that one of my best qualities.)

I left the beach in a state of weakness, though, and during the ride home I wondered how I would be able to stand up for the next 6-8 hours watching and listening to Keri Hilson and Ne-yo perform. (I know they are not reggae artistes but I assume that is why they call it "International Night.") I also wondered how much worse I would feel after missing out on tonight's sleep and still going to the beach tomorrow - no I do not miss a day. Moral of the story? I figured I'd come home, drink some Orange Juice - Vitamin C - and take something for my sinus.

Well, the reason I write today, is to brag tell you about my wonderful father - from one dedication to the next. When I got here, he was not home - he had gone to the supermarket to pick up a few things. But, alas, food was prepared and on the stove - curried shrimp to be precise. There was no rice, though, and I was a little discouraged; but when I looked in the toaster I happened upon some diced red potatoes in a cute little dish.

Dinner was delicious, and by the time I was done eating, Pops was here with bags and bags of groceries, and the orange juice that I had forgotten to ask him for. (I guess he read my mind.) For me, being restocked on food is like opening gifts on Christmas morning, a new venture of which to indulge. What's more? It is always better if it is not your investment, but you still get to reap the benefits.

Anyway, I am a lucky girl, don't you think? My parents are the best. Two separate worlds of awesome!

Wednesday, 22 July 2009

A Break From The Beach

Rain has paid me a visit today for the first time since I've been home.

I hope this is not the beginning of a cycle, and that the rain is not stalking me from Florida like an ex-boyfriend.

Today is a bad day to rain, though. Why? Well, tomorrow is the beginning of the "World's Largest Reggae Concert" and it is held outside, in grass. Wet grass and slippers do not mix. Yes, for someone who hates feet, I practically only wear sandals. After all, I don't hate MY feet; they are mine.

Back to the rain. It even rains better in Jamaica. You might think I am over-doing this "I love it here" thing, but seriously. When it rains here it is relaxing. When it rains in the sunshine state, you have to wonder how many angry cousins Hurricane Katrina has.

I feel like I should not be complaining though. After all, I have been here over a week now, (yeah it has been a week already) and this is the first time I am seeing rain and hearing "thunder." I put that in quotes because I mostly have to press my ears to the window to hear it. As opposed to being awakened at night by the sound of the world ending, then being afraid to go back to sleep.

Still, I will be missing out on my daily exercise of swimming at the beach. I suppose I could still go in the evening, if the rain subsides, but until then I feel lost. What to do today?

Whoever is not working is at home with no way of getting around; and then there is that one who has to live at school for the rest of the summer with curfews and such.

I hope I don't have to stay here all day in my room. I can only do those things in Florida. Someone needs to have an idea. That water balloon fight perhaps?

Until then, I guess I just have to wait.

Stupid football training.

Sunday, 19 July 2009

Old Navy Cold Case

The day my slippers went missing.

I realise I have not updated my blog in far too long and I will begin by apologising. If I wrote about the past few days, this would probably get a bit too personal and mushy. So I have spared you. You're welcome.

Today, however, gave me something to blog about. It might sound a bit trivial, but I am still in shock -- and a bit sad as well.

Most of those who know me, can vouch for my extreme dislike hate for feet! I personally believe that if they never existed, all would be right in this world. Don't make that face. We would have adapted to life without feet by now, don't you think?

Anyway, back to my dislike. Don't touch me with them. Don't ask me to touch or massage them. No I will not paint or cut your nasty little toenails. I'm not going to put on your shoes either. You need not be offended though, it is nothing personal.

That being said, a most tragic event occured today whilst I swam amongst the ocean life. I am oblivious to the exact time this happened, as well as the manner in which it took place; but, my brand new WHITE Old Navy slippers were stolen and now have someone else's gross feet in them. Mind you, I wear a size 5. I'm not sure how many people in this world could even fit into any shoe I put on.

Oh alchohol; the things you do to right-minded people.

How did I find out? Well you see, apparently the person also had old navy slippers -- white ones to be precise. So when I came out of the water and was ready to leave, I put my feet in those lovely size 8s and found them to be overwhelmingly roomy. I was sober though, and shortly thereafter came to the conclusion that they were not mine. Someone mistakenly, or not, went home with the wrong-sized slippers, and left me with their all-too-big and not-so-new ones that were "coincidentally" placed right beside my bag.

What are the odds.

Now, I am stuck with them. Of course, the first thing I did was wash them off. But I still feel gross wearing them, considering I have no idea whose feet they belong to. I have quite an imagination, you know, and it's simply perpetuating the problem.

If only Jamaica had an Old Navy.

Thursday, 16 July 2009

Water Balloons and Swingsets

I think I've figured out why I love it here so much. (The beautiful weather is just a plus.) One word: Simplicity.

To each his own; and I'd consider myself a simple girl. That might explain why I seem to be so out-of-place in Florida. You just can't live a simple life up there, at least not where I'm from. Everyone is chasing after some kind of wealth, even though they claim "money is the root of all evil." Too bad in a place like the US, I can speak since I know, you cannot live without a constant supply. So it might surprise you to know that here, we can. And no, I don't mean by sponging off others.

Most people don't need to even buy groceries from a supermarket. Just go to the backyard, or catch a fish or two, pick a breadfruit, and then make some fresh fruit juice. It may sound pretty prehistoric to you, but you might be surprised how much healthier and happier you would be.

As for me, either I am easily entertained, or just happy to be home, but it takes nothing to make me smile. Sitting around under the big tree with my family and friends, drinking freshly squeezed fruit juices, and eating sugar cane works just fine for me. Or if I am feeling a bit nostalgic, give me a swing and some water balloons and I will make do with that. Oh the thrills.

My inner child misses me, you know. It begs to come out and play all too often. So when my cousins happened upon a pack of water balloons, I decided to unleash. I didn't go crazy and throw them at every car that passed or anything. But come on, when was the last time you had a water balloon fight?

All of that aside, the cousins are all super young, BUT it gave me ideas. Stay tuned for a real water balloon escapade with people who are actually my age.

Until then. This star apple juice is delicious!


You use your toes when you swim. (All 10 of them.)

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

I Think I Now Have Biceps

Let me begin by saying WOW ! What a long day. Traveling is so draining. I'll give you the play by play.

I woke up late this morning because mum never woke me (I have this theory that she never wanted me to leave her.) It was my friend Kathi who called to tell me she was sick and could not visit that woke me up. "Frozen I'm frozen, I'm frozen, I'm frozen" (Tami Chynn) her ring tone. That is where it all started.

The next thing I know, I am on my way to the airport 30 minutes away at 12:10 to catch a flight at 1:25. The good news? Web check-in. When I got to the airport, it was like a marketplace in the middle of the day. There were people and bags everywhere, and not enough movement. Luckily, the web check-in line was pretty empty. Due to my soft spoken-ness, though, some overly obnoxious lady makes her way through the bags and steps right to the check-in counter in front of me. (I'm pretty sure they are supposed to call you up when they are ready). But she clearly thought I was standing there for fun. Hmm.. Patience! Though at this point I was super late.

Eventually, they found out which flight I was on, realised the rush, and sent me on my way to the security check-point. But of course, the line was as long as an extension cord and was not moving. Ever notice how the world seems to work against you when you are in a rush? Yeah. Thank God I knew the pilot. He took me through the line with him and the flight crew. He set me up when I got on the plane too. Seat 1A and non-stop Pepsi service. Now that is what I am talking about.

But wait, how could I forget my favourite part. Listening to and watching all of the clueless and hilarious travelers who speak so loudly that they become everyone's source of temporary entertainment.

I had a bit of down time at the boarding gate while everyone else was lined up to get on. In that short window, I managed to hear this lady complaining. "Oh my gosh. Why is there no one here." Apparently, she was flying Spirit on a connecting flight to DC - yes, I heard all of that - and was under the impression that boarding was at gate H6. Any sensible person would look around, maybe find a flight attendant or other person in uniform. But not her. She simply stood at an empty gate and decided to call Spirit Headquarters, as if they can help her.

"No, I checked in already, and I am at the gate but no one is here," she had to repeat about four times. Go figure. I almost wanted to turn around and say "Do you really expect them to help you find the damn gate? I mean really. Try looking."

The funniest part? It was Gate H5. Right across from where she was so ignorantly standing, and the gate she passed to get there. I am rolling my eyes right now if you could see.

But wait, there was another helpless and confused woman in the vicinity - mind you, none of these ladies were elderly, so they have no excuse.

"We are now boarding passengers seated in rows 20-25 on Air Jamaica flight-34 non-stop service to Montego Bay" - a line repeated for the next 24 rows. Yet still, being the last to board since they start from the back, I was able to hear when the flight attendant called out a passenger in front of me and said "Mrs. Burke, this flight is going to Montego Bay, and you are going to Kingston."

Are you serious? I cannot seem to figure out how one can be so oblivious.

On the plane, I put on my MJ playlist, and before I knew it - four glasses of Pepsi later - we arrived. I came off the plane to enter another overly crowded airport. Recession? Yeah right. Apparently since the outbreaks of Swine flu in Mexico, tourism has significantly increased in Jamaica - that might explain why H1N1 has now arrived as well. More long lines and patience necessary.

The biceps title comes in because there were no carts and I was forced to carry my three bags all at once from the baggage claim to customs where I had to lift and open them for search, and then from there to the car outside. It really was only two bags and a carry-on, (and a purse) BUT I only have two hands, and those bags were pretty heavy. Furthermore, let's not forget that I am 5'2, 115lbs.

My conclusion? Chivalry is dead. (If you did not already know.) Of all of the bored and idle male workers in the airport, not one of them loaned a helping hand.

Anyway, I have been here for about three daylight hours, and have probably already lost 10 lbs of sweat.

My first stop in the morning, la playa.

Home sweet home.

Monday, 13 July 2009

Mother Dearest

“There is no love like the love of a mother."

Today I thought I'd dedicate my blog to my wonderful amazing mother.

I did not write yesterday because I was busy running errands with her. Sometimes going places with your mother and seeing what she has to do to keep everything together can really put things into perspective. I think most people underestimate the power and wit mother's have, and their ability to love beyond boundaries and work beyond means. My mother has gone over and beyond endlessly to provide for us - don't get jealous daddy, your turn will come - and I don't think a million words could show her enough gratitude.

So back to yesterday. Investments are hard work. Especially when your tenant got brand new carpet and appliances when she moved in two years ago, but moved out with everything not working. I told her, "Mum, you need to include in the contract that all broken appliances must be replaced." I wonder if they think money grows on trees.

As if that is not enough; layers upon layers of MUCK were caking up on the wall behind the washing machine, the stove top was not white anymore, the disposal for the sink was clogged, the carpets were super stained, the fans and doors were greasy, the oven had never been cleaned (it has a self cleaner you know, all you have to do is press a button), and apparently someone - or something - thought the back veranda was a toilet. Really? Who pees in their own backyard?

Needless to say, much KUDOS to mum for cleaning all of this. I am fully aware that it is our property, but personally, I am not a big fan of cleaning up other people's messes - and that goes for everything. Of course, had she woken me up to go help her, I would have had to hold my nose, tie myself up in a garbage bag body-suit, with gloves on my hands and plastic bags on my feet, and go in like the place is quarantined. Thank you mother dearest for the germophobe quality.

By the time I went, which was yesterday, the walls were freshly painted, the ceiling - fans and light included - was pressure cleaned, and the bathrooms were scoured. All that was left to do was press that lovely self-clean button on the oven, and clean the top of the stove. (By the way, I had no idea you could lift up the top of a stove.)

Well, that was only one investment; and poor mummy has been cleaning up after others for far too long. I need to hurry up and graduate. It is time for someone to start cleaning up after her - and that is probably not going to be me.

Saturday, 11 July 2009

It's Their World; We Just Live in it.

Call me crazy, but today I sat down to watch Untamed and Uncut for the first time on Animal Planet and I have to say, it was disgustingly interesting. They caught me with the crocodile who tried to break his trainer’s arm. I know, kind of gruesome.

Too bad that is not all. I also witnessed shark attacks, deadly snake venom eat through a man’s skin, an octopus attacking a diver, an eel biting off a man’s finger, and get this: a marlin’s bill impaling a boy’s throat! Yes, this is the one I will dedicate my blog to.

So this 18-year-old boy, his sister, and his father are out fishing off the coast of Panama. And with the most incredible – sorry it sounds so positive – stroke of bad luck, the 600-lb Marlin on the 18-year-old’s fishing line managed to jump out of the water with its 2-foot bill headed right into the boy’s mouth. Is that absolutely ridiculous, or what? For the split second that he had his mouth open in amazement at the jump, the Marlin’s bill goes right in, slices the back of his throat, breaks his nasal cavity, and rips his cheek.

And you think you have problems.

What amazed me the most was that all of the people on the show managed to survive; I figure they would not send in the home videos otherwise. It would probably be a bit painful, don’t you think?

Anyway, in the midst of the specifically ocean-based episodes, I made note of the jobs. I always wondered how I could incorporate my love for the sea with making money; strange that after watching such a tragic show, I would still take interest in it. But, an underwater videographer? That tickles my fancy!

Here is where I explain that I LOVE the water. I learned to swim when I was 2 year's old. My mother decided, you either sink or swim – literally – and she threw me in the pool. Well, needless to say, I swam and continued to swim. I swam for my high school and I played water polo – I was on the county’s all-star team. Even though I don’t swim or play polo for my University, I never give up on my love for the water. I am really going to sit down and ponder on this “underwater videographer” thing. But, that is enough about me. Let’s talk about what I learned today.

  1. Don’t feed wild animals.
  2. Don’t put your hand in a crocodile’s mouth.
  3. Don’t put your hand in a shark’s mouth.
  4. Don’t put your head in an alligator's mouth
  5. DON’T PUT ANY BODY PART IN AN ANIMAL’S MOUTH. (Common sense is not very common.)

But on to more factual information:

  1. A shark needs to swim to breathe.
  2. Orca’s are not whales, and they are known as the wolves of the sea because of how they work together to get prey - they are very intelligent.
  3. Moray eels have 2 jaws and poor eyesight.
  4. Mako Sharks have the ability to store oxygen in their blood vessels.
  5. Anti-venom can save your life after a poisonous snake bite – but make sure the hospital you go to has it, because not all hospitals do.
  6. Great white’s do not work together to get prey, and when they do attack, they close their eyes.
  7. You can replace a missing finger with a toe. (Weird isn’t it?)
  8. A raging and petrified bull can jump over a 5-foot fence right into the crowd of people at an arena.

    Well, that is all for now. New season starts tomorrow at 9. I think I just might tune in.

Friday, 10 July 2009

Why, Hello Mr. Pepsi. I've Missed You

For those of you who do not know, which might be an excitingly many, I have an overly-excessive addiction (yes, I have noted the redundancy) to the devilish concoction they call Pepsi. No, not Coca-cola, PEPSI. FYI, I've done blind tests before. They certainly do not taste the same, thank you very much.

My sweet, sweet, beautifully toxic Pepsi has never let me down. Always there when I need it. No complaints; no fussing. And, there is never a hint of that little green goblin they call Jealousy. Six cans a day and not a word. Who needs a soul mate?

My advice to you: Depressed? Make sure you have a can in the refrigerator. Angry? Can-in-the-refrigerator. Lonely? Can-IN-DA-refrigerator. *Side note: I know it is supposedly dangerous having metal in the refrigerator, but come on? If anything is going to kill me, I'd think it would be the addiction, don't you?* Hungry? Well.. Yeah, Pepsi doesn't satisfy hunger, sorry. I'm still trying to figure out if it can even quench my thirst. ( I also drink bottles upon bottles of water a day. Does it even out? Who knows. I hear tap water is healthier. You can never win.)

Nevertheless, due to my anti-moderation ways with the blue can, I have set aside 5 days per month where I am not allowed to drink it. Not even a sip. In that case, no can-in-DA-refrigerator; I can't stand the temptation. But why 5 days a month ? Well, I could always pretend I am trying to salvage my body from an acid burn-out, (does that even exist?) but the truth is, there are 5 days every month where drinking Pepsi actually hurts. Sign? Umm.. No. I will stop drinking Pepsi when I am good and ready!!

So, if the title did not give it away, my 5-day binge is over. And this cold glass of Pepsi has never tasted so good. ( So what if it is 11 o'clock in the a.m.) It puts me in such a generously riveting mood to where I actually want to divulge my oh-so-professional Pepsi-making skills to you.

Steps to a Refreshingly Addicting Glass of Pepsi:

1. Can you guess it? Can-in-the-refrigerator. The bottles go flat. Yuck. What is worse than flat Pepsi?
2. When it is cold, get a glass - or plastic cup if it suits you better - and put some ice in it.
3. Put the lime in the coconut and mix it all up. Sorry. ADD. Put the Pepsi in the glass, or cup, and mix THAT all up.
4. Hello Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. ( Or Mrs. Tall, Dark, and.. Uhh… Pretty ? )

Tip: Don't let the ice melt in the drink, but eat them after. Can't waste that tap water we spoke about!

How does it taste? Just okay? Good! That means you are safe. Now put the can down and run! You don't want to have to rely on that secret supply of Tums to keep you from constant indigestion. I hope I never have to keep that supply by my bed; because by then I will be well on my way to that newly invented acid burn-out.

If it is as delicious and refreshing as mine, well, then I apologise for bringing you into my world. I kind of figured it wouldn't be as good because mine is made with love - we have a special bond. Maybe I should have had a disclaimer:

"Hi. My name is Meisha, and I'm a Pepsi Addict."

Thursday, 9 July 2009

I Wonder.. Can Excitement Kill ?

It is 8pm and I am still in bed. What have I done today ? Nothing.

First of all, let me say, I hate waking up in the middle of the day. What a waste it is to roll around and see 2 o'clock printed on your alarm clock. Makes you want to just hop out of bed and get ready to leave. But where to? After all, it pours everyday in the sunshine state.

Anyway, have you ever played kalooki? Pronounced kah-loo-key. I'm not sure how, where, or when this game was originated, but I have to tell you, if you want to pass time - enjoyably that is - gather a GOOD group of people ( I say good because you are gonna be staring them in the face for a while.. Would hate for you to have the mental image of someone anything less than good ) and a few decks of cards, and you are on your way to the ultimate time passer. Any number more than 4, and you are probably going to be sitting down for about 3 hours; so please, get a comfy chair.

Needless to say, my guests were late, so this game lasted until about 4 am. Hence, the reason why I woke up so darn late today. This also explains why I am in bed at 8pm, by the way. Have I gotten out of it? Yes, yes I have. I managed to get up and make breakfast ( or should I call it lunch? Dinner perhaps?) take a shower, BREAK MY TOE, and get back in bed.

*Pause* I presume this is where I explain the "break my toe" incident. Well, it is actually pretty simple you see. I ran into my bed. Don't make that face! It hurt.. A lot, thank you very much. And no, my eyes were not closed.

So let us jump back to last night. Not to list out the order of the games we played or anything (Cranium, Kalooki, BS, Pass Around Donkey). I have come up with a list of "What I've learned."

The List:

1. If you want Jamaicans at your house by 7pm, tell them to come for 3. That way, when they get there by 8pm, you would be just about ready to cater to them.

2. Don't invite people over your house without food - or alcohol. (Bad host, I know. But we are in a recession, haven't you heard?) They will raid your pantry, make Turkey sandwhiches, try to eat 3 water crackers in one minute, ( which is humanly IMPOSSIBLE ), and drink out all of the Appleton VX that your mother just got and didn't open. All in good fun of course. And how can we forget the midnight 3 medium 3 topping pizza delivery - that was finished in a record time of 3 minutes or less. Who knew medium pizza's were so small? Thank you God brother for your treat. :)

3. If you are going to bed when the sun is coming up, don't expect to wake up any earlier than 2 pm. ( Yes, that really bothers me. ) On the contrary, if you want the days to go by faster -waiting on a special 1:25pm flight in 3 days or something - then going to bed late can help you! But, you have to be like me. When I say that I mean having the ability to sleep, sleep, and SLEEP.

4. If you plan on allowing your guests to bring their computers, please be prepared with the D-link password.. IN ALL CAPS. It is case-sensitive. Oh, and prepare yourself to hear, "your grapes are ready, can I harvest them for you?" Facebook Farm Town. Welcome, my name is Meisha. Make yourself comfy.

5. Kalooki ruins friendships. Oh yes, it is that serious. This goes back to my statement about a "good" group of people. Don't bring any newbies who happen to be kalooki masters, to come in and beat the owner of the house and his guests. That makes for an angry night. Maybe your friend should just watch.

6. Listen to the house rules when playing kalooki. You don't want to miss-lay in the last game when everyone is playing down-and-out. You will just count up and then lose your spot. Unless of course, the people who were infront of you had to count their cards as well. Then you might be lucky if they had a high hand.

7. Cupidity: noun. Eager or excessive desire. It really has nothing to do with love.. Or matchmaking.

8. I can't think of my eighth. But I am sure I will be adding to my list of do's and don'ts as the summer continues. Plenty more kalooki games and late nights where that came from.

**Random-ocity. **
Yeah, I totally just made that up.

- Don't pack over a week in advance. The excitement is enough to drive you crazy!

Now, just to bust your brain a little bit. How can you cut a cake in 8 slices with just 3 straight cuts of the knife? And it is a round cake. Don't google it. Try and figure it out. :)


Wednesday, 8 July 2009

Ode To Life

* Photo by Amanda Finley :) *


To live every moment like your last and value every second you have with all the people you care about. Every little experience -- every joy, sorrow, pain, laughter, disappointment and moment of pure happiness teaches you something you would not normally learn; beyond expression. Without all these little experiences, life would be nothing but an empty gift box. Beautiful, still, but filled with nothing.

Those times when you feel like giving up, because "everything is going wrong," remember why you held on in the first place. It will be worth it in the end; If it's not worth it, it's not the end.

You will change friends faster than time. They will come and they will go. But only some of them are worth chasing, and those are the ones who will teach you the value of friendship. Choose wisely, though, because who they are, is who you will become.

You're going to suffer some losses too. Some that you may never understand. So don't take too long to appreciate what is in front of you. If you find someone worth loving, love them completely, because you never know how absolutely perfect it may be. And if you get hurt, it's okay, because now you are that much stronger and more careful with whom you give your heart. The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you; it is up to you to decide who is worth the pain. And at the end of the day, you will learn to love yourself more than anything, because you can never disappoint you.

I have existed for 18 years. Simple existence; nothing more, nothing less. Eighteen years of observing and learning how to live. Don't think about why you are here. It will come to you in the midst of your being.

We go about our everyday lives living for tomorrow, for next week, for summer vacation 24 weeks away. And we ignore and take advantage of all those little moments that add up as time goes on. And before you know it, it's next year, and you want to go back. Because you finally realised how much time you wasted making the wrong things the centre of your world. And soon enough, but never too quickly, you start to understand life a bit more; that you can't go back ... to anything.

You blink once, and it's gone forever.

Funny how from day to day, nothing changes. But when you look back, everything is different.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

A Memorial Fit for a King

Just a little after 1pm Eastern Time today, July 7 2009, a memorial service for Michael Joseph Jackson was held at the Los Angeles Staple Centre; and what a heartfelt memorial it was. I write this today with tears in my eyes, yet again, for the King of Entertainment.

Everyone has his or her own opinion on what part was most heartfelt, amazing, touching.. But I think everyone can agree that the show, in its entirety, was worth every second of the 3 hours that we all willingly and easily devoted to a man who had devoted his entire life to "Heal the World." It was hardest for me when Paris Katherine Jackson went up on stage for the first time ever. She was surrounded by the now Jackson 4, and the two sisters Latoya and Janet - all trying to subside the pain so they could thank everyone for the outstanding tribute, and tell Michael they love him. Much in contrast from the BET awards, which was unfortunately completely revamped within three days, this memorial was very well put together and suited someone of Michael Jackson’s calibre.

I was actually sitting in a Chinese restaurant eating my favourite food and believe it or not, I was practically dragged out of the house to do so. (It was not part of my plan to miss such a monumental memorial.) Nevertheless, I watched the beginning from my house, listened to it on hot 105 on the way to the restaurant and luckily, when I got there it was on the TV. So first, I had no image, and then I had no sound. Well, they say the best things in life can't be seen or touched, but felt with the heart. So now I ask, have you ever closed your eyes when listening to music? And when I say music, I mean MUSIC. You know, the kind that makes you feel good, and has meaningful lyrics. The kind that actually makes you want to close your eyes; so you can hear every key on the piano, and every note from the percussion. Well, people seem to forget, but that is what music is supposed to do; make you feel good.

So as they say, everything happens for a reason. I guess that is why I was taken from in front of my television. That is why when Brooke Shields gave her speech, I was listening to it on the radio. Maybe that is what made it so much better. I've been to plenty of memorials and funerals, and I found it astonishing that she was able to deliver that speech about someone she loved, so soon after, and in front of millions. I found it even more astonishing that I was able to feel her tears through the radio as she spoke about Michael's favourite book, and gave me my new favourite quote "Eyes are blind; you must look with the heart for what is most important is invisible." Fits perfectly into my message doesn't it? I think Michael is smiling from his grave. He would have been proud to see how everyone came together in love and unity, and even more proud to see that they smiled, “even though their hearts were aching.”

Well, after this memorial, I hope that he can finally rest in peace. I hope the world can remember his remarkable music and humanitarian ways as his legacy, and not his personal life. I also hope that they will allow his children to live. Sometimes I have to wonder if the media does not realise the magnanimous impact they can have on a child's life; or maybe they just don't care. It’s like that old quote "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story."

Sunday, 5 July 2009

The Lost Island

To give a bit of background information on myself, I will go ahead and mention that I am a dual-citizen of the US and a small and beautiful little island just south of Cuba, Jamaica WI - where I only lived for a short seven years.

Throughout my 18-year life, I have witnessed my island selling its every asset to countries in Europe - partly because of a corrupt government, and partly because of a carefree and silent people. Most of the big name hotels and attractions that bring tourists to the island are either privately owned or owned by a country that is not Jamaica. As a matter of fact, even some of the island's schools are privately owned - Heinz Simonitsch in Montego Bay, for example.

This brings me to the million dollar question: What is the purpose of the government, and how does Jamaica make money?

People fight and kill each other over Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) versus People’s National Party (PNP) - the two major political parties - and when it comes down to it, they are both one in the same.

My college roommate asked me once, "What is the government like in Jamaica?" To this question, I paused for a minute and then said to her, “You know Chris, there basically is no government." I am not sure I could have given a better portrayal of how the country runs. Of course I did explain to her why I said that and I will do the same for you all.

The Jamaican citizens are free to do whatever they want, as long as they have the money, and sometimes even if they don't. Since its independence in 1962, Jamaica has made a name for itself primarily in sports and music. While that is better than many other Caribbean countries, I am not sure if that alone should suffice for such a generally loving, happy, and intelligent people.

The reason I write this note today is because I was reading the Jamaica Gleaner, one of the island’s newspapers, earlier and found out that the government has yet again sold a part of our culture to another country - this time the US. What part you may ask? Air Jamaica. If that did not completely shock you, I will say it again. Air Jamaica, once the Caribbean's largest and most successful airline, is no longer owned by Jamaica. Indigo Partners and Oaktree Capital, the owners of Spirit Airlines, have allegedly bought AirJa and is considering changing the name to "Spirit of Jamaica."

I know that for the past few years, Air Jamaica has lost plenty of money. If you have not noticed, most of the 747s they have been using are not the beautifully coloured AirJa airplanes, they no longer fly out of Miami International Airport, and they even stopped giving food to their passengers. Despite these setbacks, we continued to patronize because we all love that lovebird care and those "speaky-spokey" flight attendants - and we are even okay with the St. Marys banana chips as well. But what is going to happen to the airline we all love? Well, I am not really sure, but it can be both good and bad depending on how the patrons receive the change. If this means spirit's cheap airfares will transfer, then I can't say I mind - as long as the name and service remains the same. It is still a bit disheartening though because I felt that Air Jamaica was all we had left.

Now I'm thinking we should just go ahead and sell the whole island back to the UK. That way, we get free universal health care, cute little British accents, and a government that does not supply the people with AK47s.

Saturday, 4 July 2009

Welcome To America

To anyone who still has a dream. Whose aspirations for the future have not been crushed by the pessimistic and hopeless aura of the thousands of people who lose their jobs every day, and the tons of college graduates who still can't find a job. To anyone who is in college, going to class at 2pm because they worked the drive-thru at McDonald's the night before. To ANYONE who still sees education as the number one. Who still hopes to fulfill their desire to be that Therapist.. Doctor.. Engineer.. Writer..

This one is for you.

I recently got an email from the Florida Department of Education telling me, in more words than this, that though I have maintained my scholarship based on my academic standing, I will be receiving less money for the 2009-2010 school year. Congrats on your success in your freshman year of college Meisha, be very proud to know that after all of your achievements, we will be rewarding you with less money to pay for your education that you so obviously treasure. .... Wait a minute.. WHAT !?

Let me just pause here and mention that Florida Public University tuition has gone up 16% and so many Florida residents lose their jobs EVERYDAY, that we lead the nation in job losses - with North Carolina second.

Tracing this back to high school, budget cuts forced teachers to give EXTRA CREDIT to students who could bring in paper so the teacher can make tests and worksheets. They complained every day that the process to get copies approved was so arduous and futile that it made more sense to drive to Kinko's with any spare change and flier papers, or if you're lucky, the paper one of your students so generously donated - in an underlying effort to buy their grade.

Now let's not forget that teachers are so severely underpaid that "spare change" was probably a little less than easy to come by - especially when you need it for 6 classes, twice or maybe even 3 times a week. But wait, there is a two word solution to this issue: Overhead projector. Ding ding ding. Hit the nail on the head. All you need is one copy, a light bulb, and a little high tech machine that will project - as the name implies - whatever it is you put on top of it. Well, that was easy now wasn't it? All we have to do now with this 54 billion dollar budget cut is buy enough overhead projectors for an entire school, and times that by the amount of schools in the state. But don't worry, the extra electricity we use can be paid off when we stop ordering books for the students. There is nothing wrong with carrying four heavy books back and forth everyday: they are growing kids. Well, hey.. For a free education, I will carry four books around no problem. But Miss, can you at least give me one with all of the pages?

Oh, high school. What have ye prepared us for? I know... For more budget cuts and job losses; and this time you don't have to walk with your books. But you sure do have to pay for them. And we can't forget that 16 percent tuition raise. Lower income, higher output. It should work out perfectly. And if you still can't make ends meet, that is why we have bright futures! (Here's 20 bucks. Don't spend it all at once.)

To spare you the sarcasm, Florida is ranked number 10 in education in the nation, a DRASTIC improvement from 31st in 2007. Yet still, the unemployment rate is 8.5% (that's twice as much as it was in 2007) in a country where 650,000 people lose their jobs every month, and a world where one percent of the population controls 80 percent of the wealth.

In this country's history, it has been proven that it is the COLLEGE students who have been responsible for some monumental changes. Students like YOU who decided that women deserve equal rights, that racial segregation was unconstitutional, that the country create jobs. It is YOU who go out and fight in a war you don't believe in, and YOU who lined up by the masses in the 2008 election to support Obama's campaign for "change." So once again, YOU need to stand up and be heard. Higher tuition affects YOU. Unemployment affects YOU. So just as you enthusiastically, and many ignorantly, went out and voted for Obama in November, so should you enthusiastically educate yourself and form your own platform for change; to counteract the perpetual cycle of aristocracy.

A college education is FREE in parts of Europe. Just saying.

Friday, 3 July 2009

One Man Died; The World Paused.

Call me a sceptic, conspiracy theorist, extreme fan, or just plain in denial; but on June 25, 2009, at 2:26 pm when Michael Joseph Jackson was pronounced dead and the world paused to mourn, I sat there thinking to myself what a great publicity stunt it was. Record sales would skyrocket the next day, the man suing him for $25 million would have to drop the suit, and those who believed he molested little boys would turn away from the accusations and try to remember the King of Pop in a good light.

"He is probably in Dubai right now, watching it all play out," is what I told myself. “Clearly they have the wrong person.”

Since then, I have been waiting for the confirmation of that notion--April fools, you got punked, SIKE; anything of that nature. Now… One week later, NOTHING. I almost feel a little bit ashamed, thinking that such a loving and respectable man would do such a thing. Someone who lived, breathed, danced, and sang for his fans. Someone who dedicated all of the energy in his feeble body to putting on the greatest comeback show the world has ever seen. But, what else could I have thought? As crazy as it seems, I never thought about Michael Jackson dying. Not in my lifetime; not at 50; not from a heart attack. I thought he was invincible.

Unfortunately for my dreams of seeing him in concert – something on my "Top Ten Things To Do Before I Die” list, it began to sink in. Janet Jackson made her first public appearance since the news on Sun. June 28, 2009, at the BET Awards. There she stood in front of millions of fans with tears in her eyes and hurt written all over her face--a face that fully convinced me that my theory was far from reality. Her words seeped deep down into the large abyss of my emotions –“To you, he was an icon. To me, he was family.”

This left me in total and complete shock. It is really true. No more Michael. No comeback tour. No more slander on the news. No more King of Pop.

I was never one to follow celebrities. If you asked me who sings the new song on the radio, I probably could not tell you. If you asked me who stars in that new movie coming out, I probably could not tell you. But ask me who is the GREATEST musician and entertainer to ever live and I would, without hesitation, say Michael Jackson. His music not only inspired artists from all over the world to reach their dreams, but also inspired everyone to be better people.

♫ If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change. ♫ - Man In The Mirror

He broke down racial barriers.

♪ If you’re thinking about my baby it don’t matter if you’re black or white. ♪ - Black Or White

He was the reason MTV even began playing “black people” on their station - Billie Jean was the first video on MTV from a black solo artiste.

“Unfortunately I never met Michael Jackson but he touched my life. The whole reason I love music and love performing is because I watched Michael Jackson. The whole reason for my pursuit of music is from watching Michael Jackson.”

As my friend Tari Aina-Lovell, and many others, would put it.

No artiste has ever had as magnanimous an impact worldwide as him. His “Thriller” album sales have YET to be topped by any artist. He has had more number ones from one CD than any other artiste and he danced like he had no bones in his body; always putting on a performance that made him a global sensation.

I went on YouTube the day after his alleged death, and happened upon a video.

Underneath that video, I saw the following comments:

“RIP from Saudi. RIP from Philippines. RIP from Portugal. RIP from India. RIP from Sweden. RIP from Morocco. RIP from London. RIP from France. RIP from Slovenia. RIP from Lithuania. RIP from Costa Rica. RIP from Peru. RIP from Japan. RIP from Germany. RIP from Switzerland.”

This was just the day after, and the list goes on.

After seeing this, with tears welling up in the corner of my eyes, I thought to myself: This man died and the ENTIRE world stopped. His videos took over Vh1, E!, MTV, and BET for days, and his music took over dozens of stations all over the world. I even saw an article: "How many people does it take to break the Internet? On June 25, we found out it's just one -- if that one is Michael Jackson."


I wanted to fall out from watching him perform one day. It was on my list of things to do; "watch him perform." He was and is the Greatest thing to ever happen to music, to entertainment, to the world in much respects – he was not just here to bring music to life. But though he was globally appreciated and adored, he was still a lonely man who dedicated his entire life to giving children the love they had never even dreamed of. Who gave money away like it was never ending – so much so that he died millions of dollars in debt and even had to give away the place he so much adored; the Neverland Ranch. He was an amazingly talented man who simply lived to love and inspire, and who never planned to grow up and stray from his “Peter Pan mentality”.

As my other friend Alex Day said, “I actually think Michael Jackson is much like Peter Pan because all both of them were concerned about was the love of a child's heart and the unshakable belief of a child's mind. Peter Pan was to the "lost boys" what Michael Jackson was to us; and they both were just filled with magic. I strongly believe that just like Peter Pan and the "lost boys" he was only trying to teach us how to fly.”

As for his personal life, I never believed for one second that Michael Jackson molested anyone. All they had as testimony were some "detailed" stories. Well, for $22 million dollars, I could make up the most vivid story you have ever heard. I'm not sure which is which, but one of the boys he took into his home was a cancer patient with no money - he should be ashamed. The only reason he lives to even tell that lie is because Mike paid for his treatment. And another one - who came from the broken and extremely poor family - his family had already been on the chopping block for that same kind of fraud. Mike just had an abundance of love to give to children. Those who were poor, diseased, had broken families - you name it. He actually started a foundation that brought those children to his home at Neverland Ranch - for goodness sake the place was an amusement park. It is a shame that someone cannot give love in this world without the motives being questioned. As many have said, he was simply a big kid, and kids seem to have a better and less corrupted perception of the world.

Now, all we have left is your music, memory, and influence. And because of that, you will NEVER die.

R.I.P Michael Jackson.
You have finally found the world you came from.

Thursday, 2 July 2009

The Beginning.

Hellooo Bloggers !

*applause applause* I have FINALLY made my own blog.
( People have been urging me to for a little while now. )

So here I am. July 2, 2009.

I actually already have some previous writings that I want to share with you all. So, I guess we can start there. I might shuffle around a little bit though, considering my biggest musical icon, Michael Jackson, supposedly died a week ago. *tear*

Okay, I am getting off topic now.

Just a little introduction:
My name is Meisha, and I am 18 years old.
Welcome to my world. <33