Why I Feel Sorry for George W. Bush

Don't get me wrong - please.
I don't like the guy, nor his policies, but I do feel sorry for him - on a humane level.
Now many will argue he doesn't deserve to be treated on a humane level, but I think everyone can be, regardless of their views or deeds.

The poor guy - he's hated by millions, if not billions of people world wide. Even after he leaves the Presidency, he'll be hated. And he'll go down in history as someone who made extremely bad decisions, and be hated by generations to come.

Imagine the feeling - not being able to go anywhere without people jeering at and insulting you. And not only him - his kids, his entire family - and everyone in his family still to come. Imagine the stress that comes with that, the enormous weight of it all, and the feeling that there's nothing you can do to change that.

Cracking a Watermelon Open With Your Bare Hands...

It was a beautiful day yesterday - finally - a nice reprieve from Juneuary and its horribleness. So a friend and I decided to go down to the beach for a dinner-picnic (dinnic? picner? - both sound weird). Anyways, I got home in the early evening, changed into my sweats and flipflops, grabbed a water bottle and one of those beach-mats (the ones made from what look like reeds - popular in Mombasa, that's all I know). She picked me up and we drove to the organic food market (awesome place - expensive with my student budget but totally worth it). We picked up some olive bread (so yummy!) some basil goats cheese from THE island and a mini-watermelon.

We got to the beach - one of those small ones on the way to the ferry terminal that barely anyone knows about - and sat down on the sand. The tide was coming in so we made sure we were above the driftwood line - so we wouldn't get wet. It was by far the best dinner I've had in a while. We started off with the bread and the cheese - which I ate too much of (got mad at myself too because I can't exercise it off right now - read the previous post if you don't know why).

Then we decided it was time to eat the watermelon - only problem was that we didnt have a knife. So she placed it on a log, we found a sharp-ish stone, and started making holes in the watermelon. After two such holes, she was able to rip it in half and we both dug in. Honestly, there's nothing like sitting on a beach, watching the water and the sunset and the dogs and getting your face covered in watermelon juice (we didn't bring spoons either). It was amazing.

It was hard getting to the fruit at the bottom, so I ripped my half into smaller pieces - so much fun - and ate/drank it. By the end, all we had left was the rind - it was completely white, no sign of watermelon anywhere!

Then we went for ice-cream...mmmm...straciatella - the best flavour ever!

Pictures once I manage to upload them from my phone

The Idiocy of Nabz...

I was rudely woken up this morning - by myself. I was having this dream in which I was stuck on campus in this massive storm - the lights had gone out, and I was in this part of campus that I'm not the most fond of (because it's so far from where everything is - ie food). And all of a sudden, at 4.30am, I woke myself up - well my stomach region woke me up - not with hunger, but with an extraordinarily sharp and deep pain. 

So I freaked out, convincing myself that I had appendicitis - because what else would hurt so much? Yes, I'm not the most mentally-awake person in the mornings, let alone on mornings such as these. I ran into my mom's bedroom - shook her awake - and demanded that she take me to the clinic (which opened at 9am - yes I could've waited until 8.30am to wake her up but when you're in pain, you don't think of things like that).

I tried going back to bed after this, and found it hard - I couldn't sleep, but finally i fell into a doze at around 5.30am. Then I was up at 7.30 so I could register for my courses and then tried wandering around the house until my mom woke up, but was in too much pain...so I sat on my bed and did nothing.

I didn't end up going to the clinic, because I had a brainwave and decided to go to my doctor instead. So I sat in the small room, waiting for her, and her impending diagnosis, and when it came, I breathed a sigh of relief - because I have a badly pulled muscle and no appendicitis. It's quite badly pulled though - because I can barely walk, and it hurts when I laugh, or when I eat, or when I bend down to change the song on my computer (this is my laptop), or when I go to put hot water in my mug for some tea...

sigh...it might have been the yoga, it might have been sleep (trust me - I once sprained my wrist trying to shut-off my alarm clock - although this was after I'd just had surgery on that wrist so it was already half-messed).

And Thus It Starts..

I've wondered whether and when it would happen, since November 2001. And finally, it seems as if it will occur soon. What am I talking about? 

US strikes within Pakistan.

Honestly, I'm amazed it took this long. It seems odd that the USA hadn't come under fire from 'anti-Afghan' (at least that's what they call them here) forces along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border and that strikes against such forces along the border hadn't occurred before yesterday.

It seems, to me at least, that much of the American uneasiness, and perhaps even inability, in the past to use force against such elements in Pakistan was a result of their dependence on the ruling Pakistani military under General Musharraf. While Musharraf continues to rule Pakistan as President, his role now is much more minimal and, by far, less all-powerful as before. With a civilian government now controlling the nation, the USA is now perhaps less concerned about angering the Pakistani government than it was before. Pakistan's Prime Minister can condemn the USA for killing some of its troops in what the USA may term 'friendly-fire'; however, this condemnation will not have the same impact on the 'Afghan-mission' as anything said by the Pakistani military (which called it a 'completely unprovoked and cowardly act').

So why am I amazed? Well, I guess I shouldn't be. Pakistan-US relations have deteriorated somewhat over the past few months. Having supported Musharraf and the army, while promoting democracy in Pakistan (because it had to, and not necessarily because it wanted to), the US Government has found it difficult to maintain a balance between supporting the army (because it obviously needs the thousands of Pakistani Army members currently stationed along the border) and supporting the pro-democracy movements of the PML-N and the PPP (remember - Musharraf and the pro-democracy movements despise each other). 

This recent glitch in Pak-American relations is perhaps just another in a series of such problems that have surfaced in the past few months. I wonder what will happen next. But with Pakistan, I guess you can never know...

The Return of Big Brother - or Sister

You know, I wish I posted more on RFS - sort of spilled out my views and opinions on various issues constantly. But then, when I do decide to post something, I write it out, and am ready to click the 'publish post' button, when the censor inside me rears its ugly head and says STOP - and then I stop.

It sucks, because in one of my earlier posts I'd said that I wouldn't worry about censorship because I really didn't give a damn what other people thought about me, and because no-one really knew who I was. Now, I seriously doubt whether more than a handful of my friends actually read this blog, so I'm not too concerned about them reading stuff that I don't want them to read, but then again, there is that chance that maybe, just maybe, I'll write something here and someone I know will read it and cause some mayhem. As much as I love causing mayhem - and those of you that know me might go 'what!' - it really isn't worth it.

So if you're on this blog looking for insight into me that goes beyond what I think about this and that (does anything go beyond that - hmm..it sort of covers everything no?), don't bother coming back - because you're not going to get it.

I guess, I don't want people to read my blog because of 'me'. I want them to read it because of its content. And if this content reflects 'me' - which it by nature will - so be it. I hope that makes sense - I know it does in my head. But like other things that I've written, it often doesn't.