Yay for Obama!
But I have to say, I'm a little cynical about all the hype. I have to wonder, what really makes a person 'black'. Obama is biracial, not African-American. So to put it another way, he's as black as his white. So if you call him black, you can also call him white right?
And what would happen if someone took a swab of GWB's DNA and happened to find that he was 1/16th African-American? Would he be renamed the first black President retrospectively?
Perhaps the world is prematurely celebrating Change.
I think I'll wait til a poor, disadvantaged African-American kid from the Bronx grows up to be President of the USA.
Til then I'll just celebrate the fact that I have more in common with Obama than most people in America do.
He's a Third Culture Kid too!
Showing posts with label Third Culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Third Culture. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
A Drink In Time...
Reflecting over the past year over curly fries and Diet Coke with my friend Shirley, I came to the conclusion that this year might possibly have been a pile of social waste.
Living away from home, in a new city, with new people, you'd think I would've gotten blind drunk every night and pimped myself out to every man, woman and dog on the street. But apparently not. Friend count for the year: 3.562-ish. I didn't realise I was quite that tragic. All this time I'd been under the impression that I'd made a lot of friends this year. I'm not exactly socially inept, I talk to everyone, I'm generally a nice person. I assumed that was enough.
But Shirley did have a point. I'd spent every weekend running back and forth between cities to go visit the Boyfriend. When I wasn't visiting the Boyfriend, I was engrossed in keeping up with my 5 Law papers. When I wasn't doing those things, I'd be doing lunch/coffee/intense gossip-cum-bitching sessions with Shirley and Nina (2 out of the 3.562 new friends I'd made). Moral of the story: out of sight, out of mind.
Moreover, she brought up the very valid point that 'to integrate with Kiwis is to drink with Kiwis'. We came to the fobbish conclusion that it was a 'New Zealand thing'. But it's true. Friendships here are made of drunken memories that are an oxymoron in themselves. Especially in Hoboville (where I currently live). Leaving the sophisticated folk back home in Auckland, I wasn't aware how immersed in middle New Zealand I would be this year.
So my goal for summer? Drink more.
Living away from home, in a new city, with new people, you'd think I would've gotten blind drunk every night and pimped myself out to every man, woman and dog on the street. But apparently not. Friend count for the year: 3.562-ish. I didn't realise I was quite that tragic. All this time I'd been under the impression that I'd made a lot of friends this year. I'm not exactly socially inept, I talk to everyone, I'm generally a nice person. I assumed that was enough.
But Shirley did have a point. I'd spent every weekend running back and forth between cities to go visit the Boyfriend. When I wasn't visiting the Boyfriend, I was engrossed in keeping up with my 5 Law papers. When I wasn't doing those things, I'd be doing lunch/coffee/intense gossip-cum-bitching sessions with Shirley and Nina (2 out of the 3.562 new friends I'd made). Moral of the story: out of sight, out of mind.
Moreover, she brought up the very valid point that 'to integrate with Kiwis is to drink with Kiwis'. We came to the fobbish conclusion that it was a 'New Zealand thing'. But it's true. Friendships here are made of drunken memories that are an oxymoron in themselves. Especially in Hoboville (where I currently live). Leaving the sophisticated folk back home in Auckland, I wasn't aware how immersed in middle New Zealand I would be this year.
So my goal for summer? Drink more.
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