Is it May already?

Things I learned about myself recently:

1. We all need me-time once in a while. Me-time doesn't mean you're lazy or selfish, it's like a nap. It helps to regenerate and recollect your thoughts. I just realised today the reason I was down lately was because for the past month or so I haven't had time for myself or had time to do stuff I usually like doing. I've had all my school commitments and exercising throughout the day and then during the weekend I was pushed into work and church commitments. The only time I had to myself was sleeping and showering. So today in between classes, I went home and sat down, had a mug of green tea and some dark chocolate and watched about half an episode of Doctor Who (which is the greatest show on earth and I loooooove the Ponds) and then had enough time for my next class. I actually felt a heap better.
2. I am not a push-over. So there's this really out-there, full-on-in-your-face-cussing dude I work with who happens to be gay. Now him being gay is not important (I think), but you know the stereotypical loud gay guy that we see in tv shows who can be openly judgemental? Well, I work with that guy... And he yells and cusses all the time and puts people down. Well alot of people find him extremely hard to work with (he happens to be the main bartender in our bar) but I really don't even give a rats ass. People always ask me how I stay calm around him (I have the aura of Steven Siegel) but I attribute it to the fact that I really don't care. Some people have even leapt to my defense when he randomly but jokingly (I think lol) calls me a bitch but I just laugh/shrug it off. And the reason is, I just don't care. I don't care what he thinks of me, I don't care what he says about me. Because I don't really care about him. It would be different if it was someone whose opinions mattered to me but him, nope. So choose your fights wisely, some are just not worth it.
3. I have to stop jumping the gun. I jump to conclusions, a lot... A HELLUVA LOT. The second I think something is missing... "Omg, I think *insert name of last person around said missing object* stole it... Oh wait, here it is... ha he he"
4. I'm losing touch with my culture. So I live in a city that doesn't really have many Samoans... and the ones that do live here, well it seems like they all came here to get away from their roots. I don't really remember ever being able to speak Samoan a lot because I was always disheartened when the real fobs would laugh at me when I tried. I know that shouldn't have stopped me but it did and I still remember everyone who laughed at me lol (grudge-holder much?) Anyway, when people would ask me what I was, I would say I was Kiwi/New Zealander/NZ-born Samoan and I seriously believed that. I mean it is true. But I always said Kiwi first because I was born and bred there and I've lived there the most throughout my life. But when I told my parents this they were thoroughly disappointed. They said, "You are Samoan." Yeah, I am culturally yadayada and that's when I just started saying "I'm just a product of my environment blah blah" But then I realised my parents were right (don't tell them I said that lol)... I am Samoan. I am a Samoan through and through although I was brought up overseas. Jeez, I'm an idiot sometimes. So now, I'm trying to learn the language again and trying to get back into the culture (which is so chauvinistic and so 1950s haha jooookes -_-)

Here, have a poem I wrote about 5 years ago...

I’ve lost my culture. 

The blood of my ancestors run deep within me. 

But their language so foreign, like gibberish to my ears.

I claim to be their descendent, yet tongues are tied.

I reach helplessly for words that are not in my reach, yet so close to home.

Words that will teach the generations to come of who they are.

Yet only the white mans language slides smoothly off the tip of my tongue.

 O fea sa e i ai? O fea ua e alu i ai? 

Where were you? Where have you been?

What will I teach my children? Of their language?  Of their culture?

When the Samoan language I hardly know has been stolen from my very lips.

I try so hard to remember, yet my life is living to forget.

My eyes cry unseeing tears of sadness.

Sadness that sweeps over the eyes of my matua and aiga, as I struggle with simple words.

Words that will one day be lost in a cacophony of broken Samoan.

Peace & Grace,

Potatotes