የእህት ቀን

Have I ever told how amazing my sister is? All of my four sisters are amazing in fact. But she is the one I could tell anything and everything to, including dirty jokes. She massages my back when it hurts. One could always find some kind of snack in her room and finish it before she even gets a chance to taste it. She gave our home phone number to one of her high school friends, just for the fun of it, and የተረገመች ልጅ called me, and played me. Through the years, we would መኮራረፍ for weeks at a stretch, but hey, ብርሌ እንኳን ይጋጫል::

I know she got my back, we go way back, duh!, and I hope we get to go way in front. I will be going to their house and telling her husband ዞር ዞር ብለህ ና, ጨዋታ ብጤ አለችን::

And today I received these from her:

IMG_20150209_215623136[1]

IMG_20150209_215802384[1]

Ill-advised (a bit like this), spending all that money on postage fees. I have told her as much, and she had decided even before I did to not send stuff to me ever again. Still, that does not take away anything from the package. Quality stuff from a quality girl, heart of gold (with some impure spots whence are spawned devious plans to play games on her brother.)

Had run out of ቶሞካ and ሮቤራ:: Coffee is a big part of my day. The one I bought here either too weak or too strong እየሆነ አስቸገረኝ:: Now problem has been solved big time. See how big the packages are?! ግን አማርኛው ለምን አነሰ? Robera, although a close second in taste, it somehow makes up for in decent Amharic print on the packaging.

I remember GeTere’s post from a few years back where he was wary of telling people that his stash has been replenished. But I ain’t like him. My coffee is to be shared as has been stated here.

አያችሁ ladies and gentlemen?  See what I did there? I just pulled up a few of our old posts in my cheap effort to write a new one. I also threw in my good sister for good measure. I should not even be blogging ye all. After getting slaughtered this afternoon in the test, to the point of forgetting we had another class, maybe it would be best to be reading than writing shit.

Fuck it though. Sisters deserve a post, music, and a day of the year dedicated to them.

One

In the absence of music praising the highly significant contribution of sisters in the advancement of brotherly causes, I am forced to 🙂

wears his heart on a screen

Lore has it that, on an evening of a certain gala, Florentino Perez made an overture for Zidane by scribbling “Do you want to play for Madrid?” on a napkin and passing it to Zidane. And anything you pass to Zidane, you done know he gon take care of it -he said “Yes.”

I probably had this in mind when…

Let us back up for a minute

A rainy night, I am heading home in, you guessed it, a bajaj with two girls. It is the girls’ stop and an altercation breaks out because of the you know what -we fight for our collective rights of 5O cents not being usurped of us. “Dude, you should have warned us about the pricing before we boarded your three-legged-mythical-creature-looking-thingie!”

Next day, same time, no rain, I am on the same bajaj with one of the girls. She remembers me and remarks on the coincidence.  We spend a few seconds discussing the importance of a gentlemen’s agreement in the absence of a written code of conduct for the keepers of said mythical creatures.

We have now run of our singular topic of discussion.

I would have loved to instigate additional conversation; and instigate I did: “What guarantee do we have of that dude not overcharging us just like his brother from yesterday?”

Then silence.

Her stop is approaching. Since one cannot be sure what tomorrow holds for night travelers, one does what thinks is the right thing to do under the situations. One writes “R u  single?” on his mobile and shows it to the girl; she answers: “I don’t understand.” One checks the writing again like “woman, what’s  there to not understand?!” and asks her to do the same -same answer. Having had no plan B, one is resigned to watching her get off (his hopes of getting off crushed) without so much as a goodnight.

Now, naturally one is ashamed of the fiasco and this just maybe the reason one is referring to oneself as one. The wording of his message could be put into question and may even be adjudged by pundits as having been rush -having gone for the jugular (or the pudendal rather) too soon. But need I remind you that I am not trying to marry the girl?  Marriage sucks! I mean, look at my friend! His wifey goes out of town for some time and he immediately comes down with a cold and a health hazard to everybody around him -that’s what he has been reduced to. So dependent 😡

A guy has got needs and I made my move to realize those needs only way I know how; and in a tight timeframe. Maybe there is a little bit of COIKS involved somewhere in there as well. The frigging concept is affecting multiple facets of my life, man. I may have given the girl the impression that I wanted us to get hitched in situ, with the bajaj handler for a priest (and we are in something blue after all) when all I wanted to convey was that I would have liked us to hang out in a supine position if she was not involved with anyone.

Ah well. What can I say? I am honing my skills. If the god/goddess of random encounters so wills it, next time I see her, here is what I am going to do:

One

Atonement

Now I know how my students must be feeling  like.

I never wanted to be department head (course manager these days). I am ineffective as a simple teacher. Taking on further responsibilities would be insensible. There used to be three of us in the department.  But now it is just us two – a general practitioner and I. I guess that makes me the more eligible one to assume the post of course manager. Should my colleague go for his residency, I would be the department. Then I would be extra careful while crossing the streets so that the department won’t get hit by a bajaj. An Italian female Ph.D. and Etyopian M.Sc.’s could be joining us soon. I hope the doctor is hot; and a good teacher too. 🙂

So currently, I am covering for the erstwhile head of the department.

That means I have to go to meetings.

And that was what I did this morning.

They said it would start at 2 but the presenters came into the hall at 3 and meeting ended at 5:30. They talked and talked about program budget and I stared and stared at them. A few people attended the meeting and I was on the second row. The second guy must have thought I was following him attentively; Naaa! It was just the caffeine making me pseudo alert. And what I got  from the first guy’s presentation  was that he looked like Homer Simpson with a hint of Debebe Eshetu.

They told us that there would be questions and answers at the end. I had one: “can we go now?” But seriously  I had managed to formulate one general question and another one based on my recent experience as a member of the distinguished purchase committee. None of my questions would see the light of day. I did not see the use. They would not have come out right anyway;  I suck in these sorts of situations.

But I tried. I tried to follow the guys and take in the import of it all. I tried to really listen for the sake of the presenters who could have been me lecturing in class. But I couldn’t. Like teacher like student.

One

Coffee + boring meeting = serious hypoglycemia. Trust me; I know.

wordpress statistics
%d bloggers like this: