are becoming part of the worldwide work force,
more and more women are entering the ranks of the poor.
How odd is that, you ask?
Listen to Dr Kum-Kum Bhavnani, she knows her stuff.
Go here to watch.
And it’s only Tuesday:)
Octopusses use tools. Astonishing!
Finding habitable planets may only be years away. Yay! Can’t wait!
Weight-lifting 22 yr old gives birth, much to her surprise. Hmm. I have this image in my head of her lifting, pushing, and plop!, baby out.
Tenant trouble: take two
This summer past I gladly took on the small task of finding tenants for my friends’ flat in the town just adjacent to Rvík. My friends, the Afghanis I’ve written about, are like family to me; we bitch & moan at each other, and then do each other nice favours. That’s love:) One of the guys was abroad at the time for a few months, so the other promptly moved into my spare room once I’d rented out the flat. Easy peasy convenient.
Not so.
Nearly 4 weeks ago, almost 3 months after the tenants moved in, Flat Mate gets a 6am phone call. Who from, you ask?The police. Yes, the police, and they were informing him that the two blokes who rented the flat had been arrested on grounds of growing cannabis in the flat, with intent to sell.
Yes. You may vocalise your shock now. I am now embarrassed that I ever thought my other crappy tenant was hellish – all he did, and does, is tell tiny prolonged porkies and not pay!
Bullet points of events:
Bring them to Justice
Here’s a phrase my Afghan friends and I have chuckled over, used, re-used and abused since Prez Bush first uttered it on telly after 9/11. He wanted, and wants, a bunch of nomads brought to justice for an inside job, a rouge for taking away the health & wealth of poor(er), starving infidel millions, and fuelling the war machine.
There is no such thing as bringing people to justice. Justice is a biased, value-laden, loaded term, and to the victim, the punishment of the perpetrator rarely if ever meets the crime.*
The sucker I am having to deal with now is a 21 yr old severely screwed-up school kid with no scruples, morals, values, etc at all. He hasn’t even closed his Fb page, which I think says something abt his lack of morals. That’s my just opinion. Through the choice phrases below you’ll see what an imbecil I’m dealing with – the context is always the same, me asking him to pay up or if he doesn’t, we’ll go about getting the money some other way:
I will be kind, meet you half-way, and pay you some of the money I owe you. (Ég ætla að vera góður og koma til móts við ykkur … those words “kind” and “meet you half way” just sting, they’re so wrong)
Here’s what you are gonna do: sue me, your claim will be stalled automatically bc I am going on trial. I’ll try and force the insurance to pay the damages, and you should do the same as it’s in your best interest that they pay as it’s unlikely I can. If the insurance don’t pay, well, I’m going to prison so I can’t pay you whether you sue or not!
Hey, if you get tough, I will get tough; my mum works in a law firm and there’s plenty of people who will defend me.
No, there is no one, my family and friends don’t want to talk to me anymore. I don’t want you to talk to anyone but me, I don’t have anyone representing me.
No yes well my mum works at the firm, but she’s not a lawyer.
Do what you must, I am going to prison, huh, and will get a free lawyer!
Hey, I’m sleeping, can you call back in like an hour?
He prefers to deal with me than talk to my two friends, and claims it’s bc of their poor English. So their English isn’t perfect, but it is perfectly fine and good, besides all they are saying refers to the tenant either paying or not paying, doing this the easy or hard way, it’s not really that hard to keep up. His real reason is most likely, in my humble opinion, that bc I tend to get riled up and annoyed, and he likes to argue, mouthing off, talking loud and giving ultimatums, he thinks he can get the better of me, us, that way. This is true in the sense that I lose myself in anger when having to deal with such nitwit loser criminals, and this is neither flattering nor productive. I also think he’s afraid of my friends.
I really want to describe this boy so you can understand what I’m up against, but here is where I run into trouble as I lack words to truly describe scum of the earth like this runt of a pretty-boy 1st time criminal I allowed to enter our lives. ‘Budding sociopath’ might actually do it though – it’s someone “who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience”. I cannot stress that lack hard enough. You see from the above examples of what he says, that he’s messed up.
Our ‘justice’ system – how it ‘works’ for my friends
Police tells my friends what’s happened in the flat. It’s all illegal, the tenants were arrested, then let go. I rang the police to get some info and had to talk to some prick of a chief of police who was impolite and utterly unconcerned about the situation; he kept telling me he couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t have to give me any info, and then asked, shocked: don’t you know what sort of people you are renting out flats to? I finally reach the arresting officer who pretty much says the same, which is no, we cannot give you any further information, whatever we told you this morning is all we can say. The police doesn’t console or give any information, really doesn’t want to deal with us and are stunningly unmoved by the mishap of innocent people. They do however say, and stress that we are not to enter the flat without the tenants’ permission, it’s theirs by law as they rented it, and we need their consent to enter, or else we are breaking the law. This they are almost emotional about.
It’s all so messed up. We, or my friends, have virtually no rights. The tenant says: bring it on, if you’re gonna play rough, then I will, too; I get a free lawyer bc I am going to prison, so there! He’s an idiot, though, but you see my point.
My friends don’t get a lawyer to help them claim damages. Now that the tenant is incommunicado there is no one to help us. Tenant also said: go ahead and sue me, I have nothing, I am going to prison, so you won’t get a penny. And there is no safety valve for landlords whose rights and properties have been trodden underfoot to claim from penniless criminals.
While tenant gets to finish his exams, gets a lawyer to fight his case, and gets to go to prison (I hope but it’s unlikely), my friends get to foot the bill for ripping up their wooden floors, re-painting their flat, waiting for walls and floors to dry, replacing flooring, and lose money on rent in the meantime, while hemorrhaging money for some criminal’s deeds.
My friends will most likely sue the tenants for damages, though they wish they didn’t have to. But what can you do when your flat has been wrecked by some numb-sculls who don’t pick up the phone, or when they do, tell you they can’t pay “so sue me”? Suing is costly and time consuming, but it’s really the tenant who must pay in the end. By now, bc the tenants have been so disrespectful (I giggle as I write this, and blush even, bc you can’t apply words, or expectations, like ‘respectful’ to the scum we’re dealing with), we don’t care how this case effects them in the future. The law will likely give them a suspended sentence, which only serves to allow them to rent a flat elsewhere and do the same, and I am not just saying that. That’s what ‘these’ people do, I’m well acquainted with their lives and patterns of behaviour by now. We will sue, and though they have no money and can’t pay now bc they’re going to prison (nananananana, as they so eloquently put it), they will, later; if ever they buy a flat or anything, we will be able to claim on it. That’s all we can do now, as they won’t pay. It’s something. Better than nothing. Fracking scum!
It’s not fair. None of this is fair. What is fair? Where is fair?
Our ‘justice’ system – how it ‘works’ for others
I felt ‘inspired’ to write this down after reading this morning news abt the ridiculous sentence given to three teenage girls who kidnapped and beat the crap out of a girl their age. They walk free. Slap on the wrist was half-hearted: their sentence is suspended for 3 years and won’t be imposed if they behave; one of them also went to drug rehab. No damages paid.
If you can, pls try to imagine the unimaginable pain, anxiety, esteem issues, perhaps depression, fear etc of the young girl involved, the victim. Or ’survivor’ as is the popular term now. The young girl is still, 8 mths on, being treated for psychological trauma – understandibly!, and has the support of her family, all of whom are actively involved in and working towards helping her lead a normal life again. It’s an immeasurable amount of work this poor girl must go through.
The three girls who treated her thusly, kidnapping and beating, all plead guilty, and the judge took this into account, plus their contrition, their young ages, and that this was their first (!) offense (implying more to come?).
In the process of the case:
- the psychological trauma team was never consulted;
- only physical scars and bruising was taken into consideration when establishing the severity of the assault;
- the family was prohibited, by the state appointed lawyer, to file a personal case;
- the family was prohibited from participating in the trial;
- the family wasn’t notified of the case coming before the judge; and
- the family only knew abt the sentencing when a journalist rang them to ask for their reaction.
It’s not fair. None of this is fair. What is fair? Where is fair?
I am just pointing out facts here: criminals of all types and severities run rampant, and the justice system, made up of laws and upheld by judges, is very effective in defending them, and not so good at upholding the rights, or rather dignity, of the sufferer. It happens all the time. The Icelandic financial crisis is a good example, too, as the nation as a whole will be punished for decades to come for a few mens’ business ventures gone wrong. Now, is that really just? I’d say no, but bc ‘justice’ a value-laden term, some people in charge are emphatically nodding “Yes, yes it is! Justice is when I screw up and you pay the price. Now shut up and pay’”.
A change is needed. A change is a-coming …
*I speak not of the UN procedures though, I happen to have faith in them …
Master K’ung said:
The mensch has nine cares. In seeing, he is careful to see clearly; in hearing, he is careful to hear distinctly; in his looks, he is careful to be kindly; in his manner to be respectful; in his words to be loyal; in his work to be diligent. When in doubt he is careful to ask for information; when angry he has care for the consequences, and when he sees a chance of gain, he thinks carefully whether the pursuit of it would be consonant with the Right. (Book XVI, #10)
I found these words here, but I read them first in Bahiyyih Nakhjavani’s The Saddlebag: A Fable for Doubters and Seekers, a book well worth reading.
The above words have stuck with me ever since I first read them in June of 2004 (saddo, I know; I keep a record of the weirdest things). I really cannot get their importance out of my mind, but it was only tonight that I learned about the origins of the words.
I shall be reading up on that on the weekend for sure. I recall actually learning about Confucius at BYU for my undergrad, but that was so long ago, and at the time his words didn’t strike me as applicable to my life. Now they do.
Words to live by, yes? I’ll certainly die trying!
There are times when it seems to me that there is too much evil and wrong in the world, and we might as well give up on
This Academy award winning film is less about prostitution and more about several children who with the help of a motivated film maker strive to make a better life than they were ever supposed to have.
eradicating social and all other forms of injustices. That there is nothing I can do, despite my life-long desire & slow poke endeavors towards working within some sort of proven-to-work and/or legalistic UN-y realm of human rights. That perhaps it really would be best to move to the country, cut myself off from all the negative, and not contribute anything negative to the world while I’m at it.
Then there are times when I feel like I can make a difference, that we all can, and that it really is worth trying.
I prefer the latter times.
You do your bit, okay, and I’ll keep on doing mine, alright? We gotta keep trying, if for nothing else then at least for the one we end up helping.
This is Kochi. If the internet isn't lying, she's out of the brothels and studying in the US - and she's happy.
In the same category as 'trust', and therefore eerily scary!
what’s fair?
The perhaps more positive part of this entry
Perspective of the grieving / those left behind: the type I’d like to have, but seems to require that scary thing, faith. Or am I missing something?
My 33 yr old cousin Elva Dögg died 10 days ago. She leaves behind a loving husband and son, an amasing mother, father, brother, grandma and foster brother, plus all the great friends she had, and relatives. Her funeral Wednesday was the largest I’ve been to. I try to understand this loss of life – prematurely, due to cancer, and I try to understand the pain of losing her and the effects on the people left behind, all with perspective and serenity. I don’t know how her family is coping so well but they are. They have both perspective and serenity. Plus faith.
A friend in the States, 33 yrs of age as well and mother of 5 little ones lost her husband this autumn to a mad man who shot him dead, just like that. Perspective, serenity … I don’t know how she’s coping, but she is! I might add that she also has faith in abundance; she’s LDS.
The not so positive part …
Moving on to a different type or need for perspective: but first – nobody’s perfect, all make mistakes. This doesn’t justify people contributing to the suffering of others, for instance, or allowing someone to continue as if nothing has happened, especially if others are affected, does it? 
A high-up person in the Football Association of Iceland got into the news recently as he’d been on a business trip to Switzerland 3 yrs ago and while there obscene amounts of money were swiped off the Association’s credit cards, which he was using. The Association got the part of the money back which had obviously been stolen by some scoundrel who abused the card holders’ drunken state and ‘borrowed’ the card for transactions into their own pockets.
I could care less abt all that, as long as football players young and old don’t suffer due to this. The real issues is this: the Association guy had spent the evening with buddies – and prostitutes in the Red Light district. This is where his card was taken, and the above happened. This is the part in the story where I, and many an Icelander, start to take interest. Does the Association not mind that one of theirs is spending money in the prostitution industry? Granted, he was in a strip joint, but we know that these clubs are joined at the hip with brothels and human trafficking.* Do they not have codes of conduct/ethics which would prohibit this type of after-hour fun, or are they pro-human trafficking? Do they not know the fact – bc it is a fact – that by this simple act of entertaining themselves at this particular place they contribute to and support a brutal, deadly industry which sees higher numbers than we care to know about of young children and women used and abused, ever day, all the time, day in and day out, even as I type? Nope, as it happens they find this all regrettable, sure, but see no reason to sack the guy, and don’t really see the connection between one man having fun one night at some Red Light District place, and the whole human trafficking issue. And therein lies the problem. Gain perspective, and educate yourselves, people!! It’s more sad than words can express that people cannot see that your ‘harmless’ fun with a prostitute might be funding the next kidnapping, drugging, and continual raping of another soon-to-be prostitute. And that’s just a simple example. I suppose you will have figured out on your own already the dangerous example of a sports association exec spending the Association’s money on strippers – what does that teach the little boys who are entering the association, full of hopes of becoming the next somebody-or-other-famous in football?
This week a local man was convicted of severe physical brutality (kicking, beating, choking, dragging, dragging into tub and holding her under the water) towards his sister, a woman I know only a little but care for and have fond memories of from my teen years. He brother was made to pay her some random amount of money, as well as spend 30 days in prison though this will be cancelled if he behaves for the next two years. Now, though he might call this slander, it’s basically like this: I have it on good authority that this man has physically abused most of his family members multiple times, and he owes ridiculous amounts of money to one family member, plus a man who used to be in the family is suing him for slander, to name but a few of his ‘oversights’; in re: to the slander bit, well, it’s his word against, ehm, the others’! This man is on the board of directors (? – stjórn) for one of the most successful political parties here after the collapse last year, Borgarahreyfingin. I haven’t heard or seen anything from them, no statement saying that this convicted abuser would be, I don’t know, at least reprimanded and made to take anger management classes. Will they, who want the nation to rule the country and call for transparency, do as others in power have been known to do and overlook their buddy’s criminal charges, covering for their own and making excuses, which is how we ended bankrupt, morally (some people) and financially?
In regards to the latter two example of perspective, or lack of, I think moral bankruptcy contributes greatly to people not having it.
*Look up prostitution, porn, brothels, trafficking, etc, and you’ll find that many sites will say that only feminists claim there’s a connection between the porn industry and prostitution and strip clubs. Personally, I don’t care who claims it, as it happens to be true! Stats and figures forthcoming if asked for.
Went to a family get-together today. My mother and her sisters started a tradition with their girls and other female offspring plus daughters-in-laws which was to meet together on their deceased mother’s birthday, December 2nd, or some date near that time, to eat, mingle, sing with guitar accompaniment, and such like. I wasn’t in the mood for it, but it was held at cousin Sigrún Benedikta’s house and it was a really good event in terms of numbers and delicious spread. Sigrún’s black lab adores me, so we spent most of our time together. At one point I went downstairs where I found a few young cousins I haven’t met before playing with the dog, Apríl. Apríl jumped up to greet me and was rather overjoyed, and to try and minimise the embarrassment of her ignoring the two girls I said: Apríl loves me bc of my cats bc she plays with them sometimes, so she likes to be nice to me, haha. The girls really wanted to play with Apríl and were less than impressed with what I’d just said. “Why don’t you go upstairs then?” is what they said to me, and well, fair enough – they managed the situation just perfectly, eliminating the ‘threat’ to their play like that:) I was told for the umpteenth time how marvellous it is that I look like my mother’s deceased auntie Steinunn, a fat spinster seamstress with a 20000 Hz singing voice. She was a great human being, but I was always afraid as a child to turn out like her – fat, alone, though not a seamstress, thank goodness, haha - and now that I have and they keep telling me, I am not amused. My insincere smiles to the aunties’ comments scared them off at a delightful pace.
Just watching a programme abt wee girls and boys in India with cleft palates, whose lives are altered if they are fortunate enough to have surgery, bc without they will never marry, not have boy/girlfriends, not finish education, and be outcast, for sure. What the why? Argh this world is driving me nuts, one ridiculous herecy and pointless tradition at a time. Perhaps once people died of cleft palates so shunning them and leaving them to die was better for all, them included, but now? Not so. So get over it, West Indians.
I bought a multifunctional dress today, they are the ‘in’ thing these days, and it looked okay when I tried it on. But I am too fat to carry it off gracefully, and I am sad over that. I know being fat is, by now, pretty much my doing, and my undoing should soon follow, but it just isn’t happening and I bogged down by it. When thin, skinny even, I felt fat, so if I still have the same wobbled mindset I feel fatter than I am, which must be the case, bc to me I look like a philly soon due to give birth to her twin foals. Philly, or any other female mammal due to give birth to multiples. And I am unconsoled by the fact that I can lose weight if I just do it (fðkojwcdmðfijadijfs so hard!) bc my arse will always look huge. Only once, no twice, has a guy lunged upon me with much interest due to my generous posterior, and I really didn’t appreciate it much. My ass is what it is, but I haven’t come to terms with it like some have. JLo, Beyonce and all that – there is no comparison – I am white, and taller than they, and yet I have this generous Latina/African American arse. Where did that come from? Actually, considering my lack of appreciation for the man who sired me I wouldn’t much mind finding my heritage to be from some Latino/African place, but alas, my colouring strongly indicates boring old Nordic-Germanic genes. Large arse is just an added ‘bonus’.
So what’s this blog about?
Noffing. Sitting here with painted nails, needing to tidy up and hoover so housemate doesn’t rant and rave about the cat sand spread around, but I can’t be bothered. Especially since he is likely moving. We shall see.
Oh the blog is about this: if someone is fat, boring, has halitosis, is bitchy, whatever – if you are not their partner, close friend, mother or other such similar significant person, do you need to let them know? If you know someone who looks like Marge Simpsons, do you have to tell them? If your niece looks like your deceased auntie from an other era, do you have to tell the niece?
No. Think of what the person would like to hear, and say that. Don’t be fake though. Just say nice stuff, if anything at all! Do we have to talk about looks, who looks like whom bla bla bla, all the time? These fam. things are always like that. People are like: you must be Björk’s daughter because yeah, and bla bla, and I think: why not talk about things real people talk about?
Like, “how’s the weather?”
a marvellous person, a cousin of mine, has passed away, this week on december 2nd. 
her husband and son are left behind, as are her parents and brother, grandmother, and numerous cousins and friends.
she was an honest-to-goodness hero in the truest meaning of that word, suffering through a lengthy struggle with cancer. when she was diagnosed she and her husband made a conscious decision to live life to the fullest and be positive in the most non-cheesy, most philosophical and practical way possible. they managed to do this. their son greatly benefits from their attitude, i am sure.
for him to lose his 33 yr old mum is just not right, though, not right at all. for a husband to lose his wife so young is just wrong. they are a rare kind though, and will pull through. her parents, my cousin and her husband – i feel for them, they have lost so much, so soon. it makes me angry, and also paralysed with helplessness, on their behalf. suffering is overrated, ‘God’ – pls do away with it? her only brother and beloved grandmother, my mum’s sister, are suffering greatly now, and one wonders how they will cope. but one hopes.
live life to the fullest, folks. if elva dögg could do it, surely we must!
My whiny, loving fur-ball cat, Ninjai, just came scurrying in from outside; then she slid a significant distance as she tends to do on the parket floor. It’s not kind on soft paws & hairy little bums that way, albeit hilarious to watch.
She meowed excitedly and crouched over something, and when I asked her – bc she does understand me, for reals! – what she had there, she looked up at me, at which point I saw it: a black&brown rotting leaf. Her trophy!
I said “Come here then, my Ninjai” (“Komdu þá, Ninjai mín”), and with that she bent down slightly to take the leaf in her mouth, then leapt across the floor to me, putting down her catch before me for me to inspect and appreciate. I touched it a few times, much to her delight, and she then picked it up again, so very very excited, and ran off with the leaf of all leaves.
She is now busy throwing it up in the air, jumping after it, ‘chasing’ it from room to room and staring it down, just as if it were a wriggling bird or salmon.
She is of course off hunting cat stock, so no wonder, eh?
She is adorable. I can’t even tell you how adorable. And she understands me, just as I do her. Aww.
It really is true love, this cat & owner arrangement;)
I’d be repeating myself if I’d say that I always have something on my mind which I feel like writing about, or talking about. Ha!, there I have done it; I repeated myself. But my incessant thinking is worth mentioning twice, so I do it!
A part of tidying up my giant storage downstairs is going through boxes of crap, sifting out the worth-keeping stuff, and tossing the rest. I have done so rather successfully, so if anyone needs storage space there is now loads where there used to be none!
Being super organised has its pros and cons, though. I’ve stumbled upon things that have made me happy, things that have made me sad or upset or delighted, and some that have left me puzzled.
I am puzzled by human emotions. Who isn’t, though? No two people are the same, and while I’d like to think I am gifted in the empathy department:), I admit that others’ words & actions often puzzle me.
Right now, as I’ve found handwritten cards and notes from my last relationship, I am puzzled as to what possessed my then-boyfriend to write such sweet things if he clearly didn’t feel it, or alternatively, how such sweet emotions vanish so easily.
I grudgingly admit that while he expressed himself rarely about his feelings towards me, thus staying true to the lack of them while at the same time making his notes and cards all the sweeter, I on the other hand told him I loved him. I wasn’t sure it true at the time. But I have so much love, as cheesy as it sounds, and I did love him though I didn’t love love him, and I felt that with loads of work and willpower we could have a good life together. We both have a lot to give, and are very dissimilar (all know that ‘opposites attract), and so I added the love-word to make the possibility of a life together despite not being 100% sure abt the happiness of it all the more enticing – to myself. Didn’t do much for him:) I’m pretty sure it could have worked, but for that to happen we would have had to actually talk abt stuff like this, and then chartered our course, my style:)
It puzzles me that after leaving the LDS church I should, bc I did, cling on to values such as “families are forever”, and that I wanted to, bc I did, make it work, no matter what. No matter that I was starved for some things which I find necessary for my health and happiness, and he probably was, too. This puzzles me even more in the context of the society in which I grew up – in Iceland, and in my family, divorce is very common, and totally acceptable. Yet I couldn’t stomach the thought of it.
Couldn’t do it. And yet – I am puzzled by some scraps of paper I found in my handwriting (and emails my elder sister reminded me I’d sent her, all on the topic I’m getting to) with pros and cons listed on them plus more info all in regards to the relationships, which indicate my lack of happiness within the relationship I am referring to. All of these are dated back further than I’m comfortable with. I am puzzled as to why I didn’t end things, seeing as I knew he and I weren’t a match made in heaven. I know I don’t trust my gut enough by any standards, but still! I know I felt something for the man, he’s a good one, but it wasn’t the big flame, the big love thing, and both of us obviously knew it, though he was the “brave one” to pull the plug. During my hopefully one and only catastrophic nervous break down:S
Hmm.
While I’d never lie and say I don’t want a partner, I am very grateful, and puzzled!, to be in such a sane place again, and to be able to say that being single by far exceeds being a relationship which is snuffing out both parties’ will to … live! Or function as they should, at any rate.
The reason this last relationship, which ended April ‘08, is taking so long getting out of my system I completely blame on my severe illness which is only now lifting after years of plaguing and pulling me down, before burying me completely - and of course on my hyper-sensitive sensibilities;)
Now, Miss Puzzled is off to do something fun.
