Today’s guest post is brought to you by my new American friend,
Kelvin from Moments in time.

This is all part of the 20 Something Bloggers “Blog Swap 3“.
Don’t forget to go check out my post over on his site (which should be up later today)

Over the last several years, there have been debates and meeting sessions on English being the official language of this country. Most times people will agree where as other people do not want to stick with one language. The English language is universal. Though most countries have one official language, our country has millions of people speaking different languages. Currently, there is an issue with establishing English as the official language. Although government officials do not want to declare an official language for the U.S., the English language should be official to help newcomers have the same advantages as Americans.

I don’t remember reading any blogs about this topic or debate, but I decided to write on it because it is interesting to debate with other people and understand how they feel about different issues. I remember reading a couple of essays last semester from several writers and most of them really did not tell the reader if they are for or against amending the law to making English official. When I wrote the essay, I kind of did not think to which side should I choose since I may go against what I believe. In a past post that I wrote on understanding other views before we contradict ourselves we should first listen to others before actually making a quick judgment. The Spanish speakers will most likely be against learning English for several reasons.

India and Switzerland are good examples of countries that are successful using two official languages. On the other hand, English as an official language in our country will allow everyone to be equal and unified since everyone will be using the speaking the same language to take the American advantages that we have in this country. If English will be an official language limited documents, pamphlets, and other materials will be available in English; however those who speak Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, etc., will need to request literature in their native language.

A law should be created to allow immigrants the chance of learning English that allows them to not be just be in the United States, but to be part of the culture, the business world, and the modern lifestyle. In short, English will allow immigrants to have the advantage of having freedom without being lost in the world. Though I can’t do much that will force government officials to make a law or what have you, however, the U.S. should have one official language.

Do you think English should be official? Will everyone that does not speak English as a first language will be have a better life? I’m sure you may not think English will be official, but what do you think? I find it interesting to see people debate on this issue.

I remember my first snog, it was ————-

If you do one thing this week you must do this: Recommend at least one album I *have* to have on my shiny new, bright blue, ipod. Bare in mind my tastes are quite conservative - pop, rock, jazz, classical and big band. Boring. But true. No hip-hop and death metal please.

Posts I’ve liked in the last week:

Patroclus calls it a day *sob*
Mud has a well deserved rant
Sue declares herself the meanest mother in the world
Hope has an embarrassing moment
Rob spends election night with the Obamas
Fake Expatriate makes plans to go to the theatre
Blonde Moments gets it on
Alice considers the men of online dating

Did you know? The king of hearts is the only king without a moustache.

Random Nuttycow fact:When I don’t post for a while, I dream about my blog. It’s like my body’s way of telling me I should feel guilty.

Random twitter update seen this week “Tweet if you can; worried you may have eloped with the Lithuanian denim-clad accordion players” Not directed at me, thankfully, but I do wonder what kind of friends stevebridger has

DISCLAIMER: I realise this post is going to make me sound like I’m 26 going on 60 but I don’t care. So there.

Our house is being decorated. Although, when I say decorated, what I actually mean is that builders have moved into the flat, poured paint down the sink, stamped mud into the carpet, drunk endless cups of tea, moved all my things around, left a layer of dust an inch thick and inadvertently slapped some paint on the walls. Hoorah.

We have no kitchen, no sitting room, no bedroom. We live in a half-land between the bathroom and the island-like bed in the middle of a sea of stuff.

Anyway, so, due to the house situation, N and I went out the other night* to grab some ready made chinese to chuck in the microwave (which, thankfully, still works).

The queues in Sannersbarrys** were hideous. We finally settled for one and I gazed around, as you do, taking it all in. We had a middle aged man in front of us and two chinese men behind us. Gabriele was on the till.

I watched her. It was evident that she was a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic. Demeanour, speech pattern, words she used, the way she used them, all pointed towards it. The middle-aged man got to the front of the queue. Bread, milk, potatoes all dumped onto the conveyor.

“hello-sir-have-you-had-a-good-evening?” she asked.

-silence-

“have-you-seen-our-recipe-cards-at-the-front-of-the-store?” she tried

-silence-

He glared at her. “Give me some plastic bags”

I baulked. Seriously?

Gabriele handed over the requested bags and quietly got on with her job.

Now what’s the problem with that? I’ll tell you the problem (and here comes the rant). No matter who you are and what you’re doing, there is no excuse to be rude for no reason. It doesn’t matter who it is. It doesn’t matter whether you think you’re better than them. It doesn’t matter if you’re the CEO of a company and the person you’re speaking to is a lowly receptionist. There is no excuse if the rudeness is unwarranted.

That waitress you’re being rude to? She might turn out to be your next boss. The person behind the till? The person who donates blood and saves your life. Where someone works doesn’t pigeonhole them as a person.

If someone is polite, you’re polite back. You may not like them. You may not want to be their best friend but that’s no reason for being rude.

The thing that really got me about the way in which this man treated Gabriele was that he had obviously made a snap judgement about her. Because of who she was. Because of where she worked. He obviously just decided she wasn’t worth his time.

Don’t people value manners anymore?

* yes, I realise no update has been forthcoming on the N and I situation. Let’s just say, I stayed away for a week. It gave him a kick up the arse. We’re taking things as they come.

** Note to US readers - not actual name of shop.

DULCE ET DECORUM EST

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, 
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, 
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs 
And towards our distant rest began to trudge. 
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots 
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; 
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! –  An ecstasy of fumbling, 
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; 
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, 
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . . 
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, 
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. 
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, 
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. 

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace 
Behind the wagon that we flung him in, 
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, 
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; 
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood 
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, 
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, 
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 
To children ardent for some desperate glory, 
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est 
Pro patria mori.

On 18th November, I’ll be taking part in BlogSecret

What is BlogSecret? It’s an opportunity to write an anonymous blog post. “It can be about anything you deem taboo on your own blog. Work. Family. Affairs. Crimes of the heart. Crimes of the street. Recklessness. Accidents. Hate. Bitching. Whatever it is that you don’t want to share on your own blog. Or under your own name.”

You send your post to Nilsa and she will mix and match the posts. On the 18th you will post whichever story she sends you. Neither you or your readers will know who wrote it. Read all of the details here.

Will you be participating?

PS Thanks F&F for reminding me

Apart from the more obvious loser of the recent election there’s another group of people who have lost out because of the result.

You may or may not know that Obama’s father is a Kenyan. He and his family still live in Kenya, in a small village called Nyang’oma Kogelo.

The fact that a “son of Kenya” was running for President was exciting enough. The fact that he is now President-elect is something that most people in Kenya have never even comprehended. One of their own, the next leader of the most powerful nation in the world.

Ordinary Kenyans believe the election result means that end of all their worries.

I am very happy he has won because there will be development here in Kogelo

I am so happy he has won because I know I will also benefit. There will be development here in Kogelo and new jobs.

Here in Kogelo, we’re in another USA. [Now he has won], there’ll be a lot of development and that is good. There’ll be a lot of people coming to visit Kogelo.*

Obama’s grandmother is a new national hero.

Today it’s a national holiday in Kenya. A day for celebrating Obama’s victory.

And yet I can’t help but think that Kenya is actually the loser. It’s great that Kenyans are proud of Obama. It’s great that they have hope for the future. However, I am unsure how exactly they think the new President-elect will come to their rescue? Doesn’t Mr Obama have more pressing needs - like those of his own country?

Kenyans will soon come to realise that this election is not the end of all their problems. Kenya’s problems have to be solved by the Kenyan people. Through hard work and an end to the bribery and corruption rife throughout the political and business classes.

It’s time for change Kenya.

*all quotes taken from this article
** taken from The Daily Nation

I know the news is full of America, America, America at the moment but I wanted to draw your attention to something that LizSara has started for us British Bloggers. That’s right, we have our own network.

A great place for us Brit bloggers to get together, gossip, share posts, find new blogs etc etc etc. So, if you’re a brit, whether you’re blogging at home or away, join us and share in the fun - ooo, and invite your mates along for the ride.

View my page on Brit Bloggers

A follow up to this rather sad and miserable post.

N and I had a chat on Thursday. I was positive. He seemed to understand my point of view. We made plans. Plans to change. And yet…

 And yet this weekend, it just didn’t happen. There were tears (mostly mine) shouts (mostly his) things broken (ours) and bags packed (mine).

I’m staying with some friends at the moment.

I haven’t left N. I haven’t broken it all off. I’ve moved out to give him some time. To give me some space. For him to start making the changes he needs to make. For him to think about where he wants to go, what he wants to do.

I know he loves me. I know he hates himself and the way he is at the moment. I also know that he can’t solve it all on his own.

So I’m sleeping in an empty bed, hugging a pillow, wishing it was him.

You’ll never guess what just happened, I ————