Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts

15 Nov 2009

Hearts of Gold

It was Sunday, Nate was still far from finishing the work he needed to, and he was leaving that evening for China. He was stressed, and anxious. We both knew that if he went to his office, the next time we would see each other is at the airport. So we decided to both go work from his office to be next to each other. We were driving down James Gichuru road, less than 10 minutes from our house, when we saw a man lying on the curb, his head partly on the main road, on the other side.

At first i thought he was drunk, so did Nate. But we slowed down nevertheless.  His arms were raised in what looked like rigor mortis and he had white foam coming from his mouth. We immediately knew that he wasn't just another drunk, he was sick, probably epilepsy. All the while people kept walking by him, other jumping over his body. He looked as dead. There was one of those rapid security response van less than 200 meters from where he lay. We drove to them and asked them if they would call an ambulance. They looked at as like we were crazy. We backed up our car to drive back to the man, and some Indian guy also stopped to talk to the security guys. He also asked for an ambulance. The security men went on lying in the back seat of their van.

Nate drove back to the man as i called Safaricom directory service to give me the number to Kenyatta or Nairobi Hospital. As i waited for the phone to be answered in Kenyatta, we sat in the car... scared. What if he is dead, Nathan asked me. I don't know... i said. What do we do? He asked. Do we take him to hospital? I think we call Kenyatta and tell them to come for him. If they pick their phones... I said. Nathan responded 'Or we call a taxi and pay them to take him to hospital.

Kenyatta picked their phone what seemed like 5 hours later. I told them about the man and the foam in his mouth. They told me they had no car to send. WHAT? anyway, i don't know what i had expected. Nathan saw him move. He was getting up.

We got out of the car and went to him. He sat down shakily, looking around him like he was lost.  I asked what his name was, whether he was sick...

He told us that he had just been released from Muthangari Police Station. He was walking home to Kawangware (approx 10km). He showed me his epilepsy pills, told us that he had already taken them but he had not eaten for days and thought that is why he got the attack. He did not even know how long he had been lying there. He then asked us if we had any bread.  It was around 11am.

Nathan gave him 500 shillings and told him to wait in the shade. We got into the car and drove to the gas station's hop. We got him milk, bread, lucozade... When we handed him the food, he looked at us with a look i have only seen in a child. He made to gave Nate the money back, Nathan told him it was his. All of it? He asked. Yes, Nathan said.

We left him eating and drove to Nathans office. As i sat next to Nate in the car, i couldn't help but think what a good man i have, and what a prefect match for me. Despite the fact that he was backed up to a corner with work, yet to finish packing for a 4 pm flight, he still made time to stop, check up on man he did not know and help. I have a heart for suffering people. Its gets to me so much. Many are the times when i have taken my jacket off my back and covered a sleeping kid on the street. In 2003, while in college i used to walk home, almost for a year so that i could buy food for this family that used to sleep outside Kenya Archives. The mother was sick, she had 3 kids. The oldest was 7, the one i first met. She asked me for money for food, i told her if i give to her she would use it for cobblers glue. She told me that she was not like the rest. And if i didn't believe her, then instead of giving her the money, but the food myself. So i walked with her to Kenchic and got 2 packets of chips. That's when a packet cost 25 shillings. Thus a tradition was born.

Every evening, on my way from college, i would stop by where her mother usually slept, talk to her (i might have looked crazy sitting next to this family), hold her youngest who was about 6 months old and watch people walk by, other without as much as a glance. At 7pm, i would go with the 7 year old to Kenchic, get french fries and sit with them as they ate. One evening, about 9 months later, the family was gone. City Council had made a surprise visit and taken all the street families (the ones who could not run fast) and locked them up. I checked to see if they were back every day. They never came back. Till now, when i find myself near Kenya Archives, i find myself checking...just in case they came back.

When i thought of the kind of man i would like to spend my life with, that is one thing that i always thought i had to compromise on. A heart for people. The capacity to deny yourself for the sake of another. For me, it comes effortlessly. Maybe its a curse of my name. A good curse, but also one that places a heavy burden upon me every time i see suffering and have no way of helping. It keeps me awake at night. Makes me cry just by thinking about it. Most people i told about how much people suffering hurts me could not understand it.  So i kept these little things i do for the helpless to myself and never told anyone. Until Nate. Because i saw the same struggle in him. The strong guilt of having while others don't, and not because you are more deserving.  The man who would understand and share with me the need to help others, to go out of your way to be the angel someone has been asking for. And that Sunday, we both surprised each other. He couldn't stop saying how much he felt that he had fallen in love with me all over again, and i was feeling the same too. He had showed me a side i knew he had but had never seen. And i knew i had found that man. And he had found that girl.

We talked about Andrew, (who we had just helped). Maybe he was thief, maybe a gun-wielding robber. But that did not matter, he was a human being at that moment. We had helped save a life and that all that mattered...

27 Oct 2009

African Girls Wanted - The african girl Experience

A few years ago, after blogging too much and spending too much on the internet, after meeting all the wrong men and dating most of them, I decided to re-join a dating site. I graduated from the 'try anything once' school of thought. So i signed up, hoping to learn what goes on there, if there was really something to it. I even added my picture and put in all the truthful details. I was not looking I had just come out of one of those relationships that almost makes you turn gay (not that its a bad thing). I had joined a dating site prior to this while in college, but that was to chat to pass time. I went ahead and dated, forgot about the site for that period and when that relationship kaput, i remembered the site.

I had formed friends in there. Most i never met but we continued to chat over more familiar IM's. We updated each other on life as real friends do. When i went back to the chat room, most of those old friends were there, still looking, or given up. Thing is, if you join a dating site and are still searching for 3 years, time to close it and go to your plan B. On of the most interesting things about dating sites is the weirdos you meet, the wacky profiles you read and to top it, the conversations you have with these weirdos. Pity I never saved those chats. Most would be in the lines of, Do you want to be my slave? Can i come and rescue you from Africa? I'm looking for an African wife... in which case I would tell them ' there are many African wives....slight problem is you will need to talk to their African husbands'

I use Skype a lot. But primarily for business and to talk to Nate even when were are 30 minutes away from each other. A few days ago, i was talking to a girlfriend of mine on Skype when all of a sudden she laments. 'I'm sick and tired of these weirdos!'  Which ones, I ask. These random Skype chats! So she sends me an excerpt of her conversation with some man called Hakan_6494. I have changed her name to V.

19, 2009 2:12 PM] V: [1:23:01 PM] Hakan_6494: hi
[1:44:02 PM] V: hello
[1:46:03 PM] Hakan_6494: hello how are you ?
[1:46:30 PM] V: am well u?
[1:46:41 PM] Hakan_6494: thanks
[1:46:48 PM] Hakan_6494: my name is Hakan .
[1:46:55 PM] Hakan_6494: your name is V ?
[1:47:21 PM] V: yes.
[1:47:31 PM] Hakan_6494: nice to meet you V
[1:47:34 PM] Hakan_6494: (handshake)
[1:47:45 PM] V: nice to meet you too
[1:47:56 PM] Hakan_6494: your old 29 ?
[1:48:11 PM] V: no much older
[1:48:27 PM] Hakan_6494: how old ?
[1:48:48 PM] V: 39
[1:48:53 PM] V: and u?
[1:49:21 PM] Hakan_6494: 33
[1:49:26 PM] Hakan_6494: r u married ?
[1:49:41 PM] V: yes. but i cheat occassionally
[1:49:47 PM] V: where are u from?
[1:49:54 PM] Hakan_6494: Turkey
[1:49:56 PM] V: ooo
[1:50:02 PM] V: too far
[1:50:09 PM] V: and u? married?
[1:50:24 PM] Hakan_6494: no
[1:50:49 PM] V: by 33 was two years into marriage.
[1:52:06 PM] Hakan_6494: ı looking a african girl for marry
[1:52:49 PM] V: whatever happened to love and romance?
[1:53:08 PM] V: n africa? is it the trendy thing to do?
[1:53:23 PM] V: you are interesting!!!!
[1:53:34 PM] Hakan_6494: why ?
[1:54:15 PM] V: a white girl from africa? or a black gal?
[1:54:27 PM] V: or an asian african?
[1:54:42 PM] Hakan_6494: i like african girl
[1:55:05 PM] V: all those races i have described (and much more) can be found in africa
[1:55:39 PM] V: the logical conclusion is that you perceive black as african!!
[1:56:05 PM] V: there is much more to this continent
 

Clearly, this man wants anything with 'African' in it. Which is what most men , (on and offline), especially from Europe are in search of. African girls have become what black babies are to celebrities. An acquisition to get you status and to look trendy. The next Louis Vuitton bag. The next chihuahua in that Louis Vuitton bag. It might sound harsh coming from me, who is dating a white man, but if ever i had the slightest inkling that he was with me for the 'African girl experience, I would dump his white ass faster than he could he could say Kunta Kinte. 


It is sicken really.


But these ones from India did make me laugh

South African muslim male looking for indian girl for marriage   Previous Ad  Next Ad
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Location : International » International
Posted on : 21-Jul-2009

Salaams. i am 32 years old, and live in South Africa, i am a born South African Indian.I am planning to go to India in January 2010 to find a girl for marriage and get married there, then return to South Africa.I am seeking a humble,timid, muslim girl from a poor and common muslim home.I promise and offer a comfortable home back in South Africa, and my family and all are very welcoming and there for me. My family is Urdu speaking,and i understand urdu, and can speak a little of it.Any sincere girls interested in this, can email me .I can also chat on microphone and web camera if you wish and let fate take its course if we find we have something special..i am serious to marry in January.
Related to : seeking humble, poor muslim girl from India for marriage

Contact : Anwar

Tamil Viswakarma   Previous Ad  Next Ad
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Location : Tamil Nadu » Chennai » North » Villivakkam
Posted on : 22-May-2009

Hi,

I am a Mechanical Engineer by profession, a confident and career oriented person, with a strong values and good sense of humor. I am easy going but socialize selectively. Worked in India, Syria and Singapore. Currently working in Malaysia. I hold B1/B2 visa to USA and also hold PR status in Singapore. Visited USA for business and personal reasons. I like to watch drama and action movies, like music very much, not much interested in sports but like to keep fit. I am a straight forward and understanding person...but very sensitive and serious when it comes to the matter of love and affection. Looking for a partner who will be a friend, willing to stand by me at every stage of my life. should be very understanding by nature.

Had fifteen days of married life in ninety four. No encumbrances, For more details please call or email me.

Wish you good luck......"

Profile ID: M1436292   
Related to : Viswakarma, Goldsmith

Contact : Kumaran
Phone : 017954143

Notice  he is....very sensitive and serious when it comes to the matter of love and affection but had fifteen days of married life in ninety four.

Viva las  Chicas Africanas!

29 Aug 2009

New beginnings

I have been running this blog for about 4 years now. From the humble beginnings on My space, to Blogger, to Wordpress (for a few hours yesterday night).

As I was sitting in the office, in the dead of the night, it came to me. My blog has been undergoing the same changes as me. It has been reflecting the mood, state of mind and state of being of what is going on in my life. I think that is what blogs are supposed to do anyway.

I noticed that when Nate and I got together, I changed my blog template. I had been meaning to do that, I just never got around to doing it. I guess there is an unconcious need in me to change my stuff with a new change in my life.

So, I have changed the blog's header to Nate's Girl. Because that is what I love being. His girl. I have refrained from getting all mushy and lovey on the blog for the period we have been together, and most of my readers have no idea who this Nate is that i suddenely started blogging about. Not to worry, I will tell all soon. And possibly , you will notice that he is about to become a permanent fixture on this blog. Along with Frosty, Biggie and Blackie. Anf Togetherness Supreme, our film. No, the film is not about us. It's about this.

Welcome to the changes.

13 Aug 2008

What Happens...

Life is what you wish you had but you don't. It is what you see from a far and yearn for, or in some cases, actually pursue it diligently, if only to have a taste of what you think other out there might be enjoying. Life wheezes pass you like that cab that won't stop when you hail, but will not hesitate to splash muddy waters on you on the pavement. And as you watch it speed away, you realize that you have just been dealt a very bad hand, and lady luck has retired, not for the night, but for the decade. Every morning on my way to work, I'm forced to stare outside the car window for long (long is used loosely as this could stand for 2 – 5 minutes) and sometimes, I do actually pay attention. Sometime last week, I observed, really observed. I become aware of a small pickup truck that I meet with at around the same time every day. It's a very nondescript car, and you are likely to ignore it. What made me notice it were the chickens in the back. The owners have constructed a mesh cage and horizontally divided in into two, thus making a double storied kind of cage. They pack chickens – hybrid broilers / or old layers on their way to the slaughters house – that is my assumption – in these two stories. The chickens sit quietly, almost demurely, as if cognizant of what awaits them.

Is this any different from my journey to work? Do the chickens also look at me and feel that fore boarding sense of worry and pity towards me? Do they look at me with their tiny beady eyes and wonder whether I know what awaits me, what the day that the night worked behind the veil of darkness to so deftly craft hold for me? Douglas Adams almost convinced me that mice do run earth. In one of these traffic snarls, my house mate and I got into a conversation, well more of a speculation about Mice and Cockroaches. I will give them first Caps as this will somehow recognize their yet-to-be-proved dominance. Cockroaches will be the only surviving living things on the planet when we finally fry ourselves up with UV rays and other cosmic rays and their off springs, radioisotopes. And we wondered, is there a scientific research, maybe in the USA, or Russia or even Japan, to make a replica of the cockroaches shell for humans to wear protectively, when we can no longer make higher SPF's? And Mice actually do run the universe; that every little thing we do, no matter how ingenious is orchestrated by Mice. Which is what got me wondering to my housemate in the car, what of the mice that scientists conduct research on? He thought that those were the prisoners or pariahs of the Mice kingdom, and being subjects of us lowly brained beings is their punishment. I thought he had a point. Imagine the lowest animal you can think of on earth, actually, expand your thinking, in the universe. Now imagine you being condemned to be the subject of its meaningless research.

What I fail to understand is why you would allow yourself to be one of the dirtiest animals on earth, especially if you controlled Earth. I mean, look at all the advancement we have thereof. Even in my pea sized brain (I'm looking at my brain from a Mice Point of view); I would surely want to be a greater animal. It's like God choosing to send Jesus as a pig to rescue the human race. I would call that very bad mathematics. Anyway, he had a point, if far fetched at that! We could be controlled by the lowest form of life without our knowledge. Apparently even dolphins had a revelation of what the world was headed into (notice I said what not where), and have been trying to tell us for years. Can't blame me, and other human forms for not listening. Their language is harder than Danish. And take it from me, Danish is not a language, it's a advanced form of galactic medley of confusion (Sorry Hunny, you can kill me later, you know how best)

Happens that religion can explain most things and hence rest our troubled minds as to why we exist. Science can also do that. Big Bang is where the two meets. They fight to differ, and to me, the harder they fight the more similar they get. Like an old married couple. Think about it, if an old married couple to us is along the lines of 10 years to 60years (life expectancy limits the bracket), what about centuries, and still forced to co-habit in the same house (read Earth), deal with the same kids (read Humans) century after century? I'm not a fan of religion. I was born into one. And somewhere along the way I felt like a groupie on some really confused rock band. I got the concept of what religion tried to do, but I saw it fail. Then I wondered why I was in the religion I professed to be in. I got one answer; because I was born into it.

When I really thought about it, I decided to get off the bandwagon and watch from the sidelines. I think this is when I should confess that my not so favourite pastime is thinking, and worrying. About things like; are there homeless children in Alaska, whether the ant that I stepped on accidentally this morning knew that it was going to die today, and if so, it say a proper goodbye to its family, (I worry about that with humans too) whether my pal knew her mother would be dead this time last year, and if so, what would she have done differently, whether I will celebrate my 30th birthday...anyway, that was not the line of thought I was going to follow in this blog.

You believe in the religion you believe in because you (your soul, your nature) cannot accept that death is finality. There has to be something more, otherwise, why do we bother living, why not kill ourselves and get over with. Well, I think suicide bombers have got that covered. That is why we go through the motions of life, because we have given ourselves reasons to, because we humans need justifications, reasons and answers in to Why, which when married to How , breeds very naughty children, namely, When, Where, and the twins, What and Who. We then devote our lives to finding answers, fighting about it, and proving the dominant faith and downplaying the rest.

Are the dolphins really that cleaver they might actually have something to say that if we do not heed to, will lead us to dire straits? If we stopped cutting into Mice and just observed them, would we learn something valuable and hence settle the Ultimate Question? I bet if I were to choose an animal, I would pick Ants. Sorry I know they are not animals... for animals I would pick the pig, for its celebrated orgasmic capabilities. But then, I figured that the only thing I have to worry about in this life is living to the ultimate satisfaction in everything I do, as I don't know what awaits me ahead, and if I spent too much time worrying, fighting and arguing about it, I'll lose on the best things.

Busy as I may claim to be enjoying the best of things, I do worry though; I'm still human, no matter how hard I fight it. Do I worry about religion? Yes. Why? Because it was ingrained in me from the day I learnt the difference between the beauty of fire from a far and the beauty of fire on my fingers. And just when I convince myself that I have safely crossed to the other side without the proverbial troll riding and digging deep into my back, it sinks it claws, from whatever end of my body it was hanging on to. But then I have that special innate ability to be stubborn, even unto myself. Don't' forget that other special gift of not being able to concentrate on anything for more than the time my brain will allow. It selective on what it really wants to concentrate on and there is nothing I can do about that, in this case, thankfully!

Making excuses is not my specialty. But I do like listening to them and wondering how best I would have put it, were it left to me. And by gawd, I would have an excuse for everything in the universe, and to me, everything interconnects. By some cosmic power of pulling elements towards the centre of the earth, all things hurtle towards each other, like the Bermuda Triangle, only at a slower pace. Religion, politics, relationships, business, war... all of it. It's all to satisfying so sort of deficient.

A quest by the human race to prove something to each other, to themselves. Unexplainable does not mean inexplicable. Just because something is unexplainable does not mean that paranormal forces must have been involved, only that we haven't found the explanation for it yet. I could start a whole school of thought and argument with true and untrue theories in accordance with that statement, but I'm not that inspired today. Take it as it is, mull over it in your sleep.

Living without knowing what you are here for, what your purpose in life is, where you are headed is frustrating. Which is why we have higher stress levels that any other living organism. That elevated stress level of animals, say a chimp will be to find it's tree cut down, or it's favorite spot occupied by a pride of lions. Why don't you try for a change, just not think about anything? Live today like you don't have another day like this. Actually, you don't. Today is never a continuation of yesterday, and neither will it ever be a prelude to tomorrow. Different entities, like you and your parents or siblings. You are related, but you are not the extension of any of your family, not even your twin. Think of the days septets, their mother being the week they fall in, their father the month. In the end you will have a father that has 4 wives, and each has 7 kids. Now take 11 more families like that and you have a clan called Year. The only relationship they have? Association by marriage, birth, nothing more.

This blog was not about religion, life, etc. It was about nothing really. It was my weird way of trying to prove something. Now as you were busy reading this, you failed to notice that the first words of every paragraph formed a sentence: Life Is What Happens When You Are Busy Making A Living. Get my drift?

Orignally posted on http://blog.myspace.com/darkangelme on Nov, 6th 2007.

8 Aug 2008

What I Want

Such a thing as you is heat that sends my wanting, and me with barely a taste, but to imagine a touch of the divine warmth. One word, less a talk of attraction and it's prevailing want is flown in me. The thought of being wrapped in you quickens me…pulls all my attentions to that end. To the illusions of you pressed and pushing, a flooding of two, too close, and trying for more…the heat pours and pulses, pushes quickens.


You say burnt out? Only, perhaps, momentarily in the afterglow of you laid out…and…with patient touch…felt, freely…tasted…teased, and then…the headfirst tip into that fires slow burn. Intertwined the delights dance with anticipations flicker. Then…worked for…pushed and pounded at, realized by the fanning breath of feeling expectation realized…explodes into now. Hearts opened, the desires wet realization soothing the flames want-full heat, for…perhaps…a moment. Before the pull of that friction starts to turn with the promise of that cleansing and consuming flame.


I want you to leave me breathless. And not even be aware that I had been holding my breath. Then in my mind’s eye I will see it, I will see you but I dare not and will will myself to not see... us. And my heartbeat will quicken, so much so that I will fear that others will hear it, start to notice that my chest is rising and falling, not ever-so-gently, but with movements that could only come from excitement deep within places untold.


I will feel a spark ignite, falter, unsure at first, holding back… yet I will feel its warmth, willing to be let out, wishing to explore, wanting, needing. Then fell the warmth develop to a bigger ember, deep within my stomach and spreading...fast. Wonder whether I should fight it, or let it stretch, let it become a wildfire, that would be unstoppable, that would consume everything on its way that would leave me quenched, fulfilled and satiated. But the strength to fight it is what will elude me, or maybe I just won't want to.


All I will want is to keep this need to feel, to have, to know. I will dare not look at the aftermath, dare not think what comes next. I will want to bask in that heat that you speak of…the heat that I feel, the heat that burns the deepest parts of me, the heats that leaves me wanting, craving, writhing in want to be filled, to be possessed, deep, over and over again, and then left dizzy and spinning. I will want not know where it ends and where it begins, where chocolate meets vanilla and only want to know of when all is visible is one; one that moves in unison, giving, taking, receiving, filling, pleasing, pleasuring immensely, incomprehensibly.

11 Jun 2008

Wordless Wednesday

Just so we're clear...before we get so far,


6 Jun 2008

I'm an unsatisfied woman

So I went to a store that sells husbands where a woman may go to choose a husband from among many men. The store is composed of 6 floors, and the men increase in positive attributes as the shopper ascends the flights.

There is, however, a catch. As you open the door to any floor you may choose a man from that floor, but if you go up a floor, you cannot go back down except to exit the building.

So I walk in.

On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men have jobs.
I read the sign and say to myself, "Well, that's better than my last boyfriend, but I wonder what's further up?" So up I go.

The second floor sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men have jobs and love kids.

I remark to myself, "That's great, but I wonder what's further up?" And up I go again.

The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking.

"Hmmm, better" I say. "But I wonder what's upstairs?"

The fourth floor sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking and help with the housework.

"Wow!" I exclaim, "very tempting. BUT, there must be more further up!" And again I head up another flight.

The fifth floor sign reads:

Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak.

"Oh, mercy me! But just think... what must be awaiting me further on?" So up to the sixth floor I go.

The sixth floor sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 6,875,953,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please.

This post was inspired by The Journey Man before i stole it and posted it here.

When I steal..

... I do let you know that I have. Today's post is stolen from a funny guy Papua New Guinea. Yep, I go that far.


Here goes...


When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend.


When I was 16 I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion, so I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.


In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.


When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.


When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn’t keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but direction-less. So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.


When I turned 30, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground, so I married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took everything I owned.


I am older and wiser now, and am looking for a girl with big tits.


5 Jun 2008

Table for One Anonymous

Posted in Dec 2008.....




A couple of weeks ago, i rejoined the other fish in the market. After 2 years of being a fish in aquarium, a pet fish, I'm back to the display market.

I am floating somewhere in there. It is impossible to see me because the new fish on the block get moved to the bottom of the pile. You see, the higher on the pile you are in a fish market, the more the chances for getting picked are. In our little fishy fish dreams, all we see is this merchant coming by and getting captivated by our glistening scales, our strong fins and our beady eyes. We lie there and implore him with our half open mouths, as if saying, ' If you don't pick me up, this might be the last breath i take.'

This is not to say that our woes end with having a merchant possess us. But is the first step to a more fulfilling life. Of course there are those fish that i know are content on being in the market, but some fish, like i kinda like being a pet fish.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I have said goodbye to the 'his and hers' club, and joined the Table for One Anonymous. I'm not scared of being alone... ahem....single, i just hate it. I enjoy sharing the little things with someone, I like being silly with someone who will look at me, shake their head and smile inwardly knowing that it's that exact silliness that makes them love me more. I like being able to have a lazy thinking day, when i have the liberty of asking ' Hunny, what are we having for dinner?' and actually getting an answer. Because you see, my microwave hates that question. And whenever i ask it, its response is not to work that day. I thought I'd solve this problem (of asking questions and getting answers) by buying an answering machine. Pardon me for thinking an answering machine is a gadget that give you answers!

I like having someone to call and rant to, who will, by virtue of laws laid out in the Dating Code, listen to me. I like knowing that somewhere, there could be this person who thinks I'm the greatest gift to mankind, apart from obviously House MD and blogging. In simple terms, I like being in a relationship.

I have not had much time to mourn my loss of status, the going back to being a fish in the dreaded market, what with all the traveling...but lost love is double fanged bitch! Once you loose it, it waits in the shadows, lets you have grand days and in the middle of the night, it creeps up and starts prodding you...

With Lost Love (LL) taking on the worse imitation of Freddy Krueger, the conversation goes like this

LL: 'Hey Dark, Are you awake?'
Me:'Now I am, who are you?'
LL:'Someone you used to know'
'Thanks for clearing that up. Makes it very easy to figure it out'
LL:I'll give you are clue'
'How kind of you, seeing as it's 3 am and all'
LL:'I used to make you smile for no reason in the middle of a work project, I used to make you look forward to going home in the evening when youknowho was around. I used to make the message beep on your phone increase your heart beat.'
'Oh, you'
LL:'Oh yes, me'
'And why, of all the 12 hours of daylight, did you have to wait until now to come calling'
LL:'You see, your days are too busy. Once i come your life, i don't let you walk that easily. I don't fight for attention. This is the best time to get you. Take you down memory lane.'
'Do we really have to do it now?'
LS:'Absolutely. Remember that day....'

4 Jun 2008

Things i wish i said to...

My boss:















Church Ministers:


Canadians:



My parents:

My geek pal


My high school arithmetics teacher:

Catholic (Irish) Women:

My boyfriend (when he pisses me)

That annoying bitch
That rude waiter (ess):


My Ex boyfriend:


What I'm saying to (all) bloggers:


25 May 2008

What doesn't go up...

...gets a heart attack.

Little pieces of information that always makes me question why i didn't know about sooner. Not that i have ED, i mean, i don't have to rise, but it would have helped all those men i've been with who had to be rushed to the ER now and then. I've been bragging that it's my bedroom (or kitchen, or shower, against a tree, or back of a taxi) skills that sends them to hospital. I was even thinking of making a warning sign to men who come to my house. It took a while to get my landlord to agree to me installing this one on my door -- seeing as I'm a good citizen and considerate neighbour, what with mine being the most desired area in the city. Unlike my next door neighbour Kevin(a), who takes all her activities to the streets down below, i like to give ample warning.
I emphasize on her as she reads my blog and would want to keep our nonexistent friendship going. The last time we got onto a fight on about her waste disposal habits, i found this nice note stuck on my door.



Now, threatening to take away my womanhood is bad enough threat, but given that i come from Africa where that might be viewed as a good thing - makes me more docile, they say (bastards!!) - but making me white? That is one serious threat. Which is why I'm not messing with her.

Where was I? Oh yeah - installing signs. After sending about 5 men to the ER, it's only fair that i re-consider my bedroom tactics. I'm taking a hint from my Irish friends


and working on this:


It's still on the concept stage, do not fuss about the design and balance in elements. Why Hollywood, you ask? because they are having too much over there and every one pretends that they don't know the cause of the California fires. Don't believe me? Nicole Kidman can prove it --
Also, If I'm to do one with an African theme, my good intentions will be misconstrued to mean this

and no, I'm not talking about foreign aids.

Looks like i wont have to work on that sign anymore. Because i have been told that it's not my performance that has them looking for this guy --

It has come to my attention that men with failure to launch problems, who do not rise to the occasion, meaning that they bow when they should be saluting have a higher chances of getting a heart attack.



Does that mean that all those unused little workers in the sacs grow old, die and become cholesterol which is stored around the heart?hmm.



I did my duty and bought this plant for one of my 'failures' for his hospital room. It was the least i could do. If i never noticed that he was not 'up' to it, i surely must take part of the blame. I figured that if he kept it watered, seeing it rise and bloom might give him hope.

Which made me think. Does lack of sex cause heart attack too?

14 May 2008

If I loose 50kgs..

I'm in relationship that everyone thinks is the funniest thing ever, George Bush excluded. My boyfriend lives closer to the North Pole than to me, and like the holidays, I get to see him once a year. If you ask me, that is the perfect relationship. I just unlocked the door to the obscure and confusing world of relationships. I get to spend close to 8 months analyzing what he did during those four months that we are together, and by the time I'm done, I have forgotten exactly which situation pissed me off the most and he gets to spend 8 months forgetting how bitchy I was half of those 4 months. No, not really...He spend the 8 months birdwatching, occasionally calling me to check whether is till remember his name. I love him, do not doubt that. Though lately i have been questioning how realist i am being when it comes to my love life. Never before has 'love life' sounded so real - I mean, that's all we have. A love...

Thinking is one thing I do not enjoying doing, especially about my life. It always leaves me confused. How I'm i supposed to solve situations if I'm the one who got in to them in the first place. Doesn't the fact that i got into those situations mean that I'm not a good judge at all? A while back, I fell in love (or landed in the mucky stuff purporting to be love) and moved towns to be with the one. A few months, we discovered that we are as compatible as a shark and a dolphin - guess which one i was. So in packed my bags and moved back to my town. When I was not looking for love, it hit me in the face, left me for dead, and when woke up, i had a concussion the size of Texas...oh, and in love. It's a good idea to familiarize yourself with a situation, especially one that is know for making people 'fall in and out of'. I was getting round to doing that, when the Danish viking left (not me, the country. But that also means that he left me. In the case of relationships, i understand that if i say he left me - it means he did away with the relationship. No, not at all. He left me, but not really left me. See what i said about me thinking?). After pillaging and raping - all with verbal, and sometimes pleaded consent, in case you were getting worried.

So why I'm i in this relationship you ask? Ok, you probably don't have the guts to ask me but you are thinking it. Becasue of such text messages:

Boyfriend: Blah Blah..i'm 110% into our relationship, i wnat it to work bcoz i want you and us..

Me: Wonder what the 10% more is.. Love you too

Boyfriend: The 10% is when my schlong grows hard (of course he did not call it that)

Me: Does it grow by 10% really?

Boyfriend: Yes! of the total body weight.

I was still laughing when this came in

Boyfriend: If i loose 50 kgs.

Now, isn't that what relationships should be made of?

10 Mar 2008

Who I'm I?

By now, I should have answered that question. By the time I turned twenty, got a job and became a mother, I should have had an idea of what I was all about. But no, things are not usually that clear cut, and some of us take ages to discover ourselves. Discover is not the right word to use, it's more of awareness of myself as a human being, as a woman, as a lover. I'm allergic to change, especially because I'm shitless scared of failure. The idea that my life, or the world I have built around me coming down in front of my eyes is greater than my fear of dying and darkness. I get that cold shiver down my spine every time i see dominoes fall, one piece unbalancing the next, all happening so fast... as that is how i look at my life. A game of dominoes that I have to keep a close eye on just in case someone sets in motion the first piece.

One of the worst feelings for me in the world, is the feeling of helplessness. The feeling that I can do nothing about the situation, everything is out of my power and will... not that I have that much power over anything. That is not to say that I do not love challenges. Quite to the contrary. I push myself too hard sometimes, and I set unrealistic goals too. They are usually unrealistic at the time of setting them, but by and by, I do realize them. A while back, I lost my handbag in a pub. We were 4 of us on the tale, and somehow, someone walked away with my handbag, which at that time, contained my two phones, my wallet which houses all my banks cards, My ID card, GPRS modem and KES 20,000. ($310). This could have happened at a worst moment that that! Lars and I were running out of money - strike that - were out of money. Despite being broke, we were planning for a holiday at Lake Elementaita Lodge for the weekend, just before he left. Now with the money gone, along with the fact that I had to replace most of the items that were in that handbag urgently, the getaway was off. We spent a while looking for the bag, and thirty minutes later, we gave up. We left the pub for another one and went on to party the whole night. One of my friends who was with us, Ann, later told me that she was still awestruck at how I handled the whole incident. It amazed her, that even after loosing all that, I took it in stride, went out and had absolute fun. What's my secret, she wanted to know. I told her about my mantra. Years back , I came across this:

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time..
.


Those must be the most intelligent words that have ever been spoken. And I explained to Ann, using examples of situations she had gone through.... it made sense to her. I could see her getting enrolled.. and it was satisfying to know that i had saved my friend years of worry about things she cannot change. I give advice, my friends are always asking me what to do... and it always sounds so mature and nice when I tell them. Truth is, I rarely listen to myself. I worry about things I have no business worrying about, and I still try to lock the barn door long after the horse has bolted.

I have been thinking about what I want to do five years from now, and the sad fact is, I have not decided yet. I have never had the thought that I'm young hence loads of years ahead for me to think about my life. A while back, I explained what happens when you get too busy making a living. The last thing I want is to wake up one day when I'm 40 and wish I had lived my life more, I had enjoyed my youth more, I had.. I had.. I had.. and so fr, I've had none of that. Most of the decisions I made did not augur well with the people in my life and I learnt early that the only happiness that matters in this world is mine. I know that is a very selfish thing to say, but an unhappy person cannot bring happiness to any another. If anything, he / she brings that deathly sense of gloom and foreboding. Same applies to love. Love your self first, and only then can you obtain the capacity to love others.

I have said enough.

5 Mar 2008

My Life With (out) Him.

We met in the back of a car in a restaurant in Nairobi less than one year ago. I think it was around June 2007. His friend had told me that there was some one I should meet. And I took the chance. Even though I had my Danish candy then, I could not deny the attraction I felt for him. We sat at the back of his friends car and looked at each other, sizing each other up. He was tall, dark and handsome. Now, usually, I don't go for the dark (read African) type but he captivated me. He was like no other man I'd ever met. He was quiet, unless he had to say something really deep and profound, and when he spoke, he left me breathless and speechless, almost .... hyperventilating.

He had no place to stay, and his friend figured that I could help him out.
I was stranded. He has those pleading eyes, the kind you can say no to.
Doe-eyed, I believe it is called. They looked something close to this...

I succumbed to the manipulative eyes and agreed to take him home. Meanwhile, I was wondering how to tell Lars about him. I could say nothing was going, that we were just hanging out, I was just giving him a place to stay blah blah. Even to me, that sounded lame. And if I could not convince myself, how would I convince Lars? Anyway, I took the Chance. I hinted to Lars on the phone a couple of times, and he seemed not to suspect anything....or knowing Lars, he was just letting it pass.

Bob and I were inseparable. He did not have a job and I did not mind footing all the bills. After all, his presence was all over, but no impact on my living costs at all. Of course I had to leave him when I went to work, but would rush home every evening to be with him. He made me laugh, sometimes we fought over little things. Well, it is correct to say I fought with him, as he never talked back to me. It is frustrating fighting with someone who won't fight you back, though it does help you see the triviality of your quarrel.

On every shoot that required me to be out of town, I'd take him with me. He did not get in the way of my job, or the production and that made it so easy to take him along. It was like having a pet that required your presence only no conversation, no cleaning after...Needless to say, I was falling in love. That made me very worried.. as it should anyway. It seemed like he was competing for my affection with Lars, and he always won, what with Lars being in this town miles and oceans away from me. (look for clues on the right hand side)

His name was Bob. He started to get sick about two months after he moved in with me. At first, he kept quiet about it. I noticed a change. He was not as vibrant in conversations as he used to be. He would talk to me for a while, then keep quiet. At first, I took this bouts of silence to mean that he was reflecting, but then they became too common and too long. sometimes he would not speak to me at all. Luckily, I got a film shoot in Maasai Mara and thought that we could use that opportunity to think about things... well, him at at least. As I was packing, he asked me to take him with me, as he needed a change of scenery. I figured I was going to be too busy to be on his space, so i agreed.

Two days later, Bob and I were sitting in our tent, talking. Ever since we got there, he had been vibrant, though I had to let him take breaks just in case he felt I was imbuing his space too much. Suddenly, I smelt something burning. At first, I thought it was coming from outside the tent. Usually, the camp attendants lit firewood and put huge tanks to heat bathing water. I thought that maybe someone had accidentally put in rubber with the wood. The rubber smelt become stronger, and I noticed a white smoke. White smoke is good when it's in the Vatican, but coming from Bob, that was far from good. I panicked. I put Bob on the bed, and tried to resuscitate him. He was not responding. The smoking stopped. And so did Bob. He lay there, lifeless, me siting by him, helpless. My black man was gone, and there is nothing I could do to help him. I did not cry, but i was heartbroken. For the 4 months i had known Bob, my life had changed immensely. Lars had even come to accept him and agree to share my affections with him. I was yet to see how the two related when out in the same room.

It's been almost 7 months now, and I keep thinking of getting replacement. Thing is, being my first, it's hard to just forget him and move on. I'm thinking of replacement, now that Lars is not around anyway, but I keep thinking about Bob whom I have preserved in my closet. Though he is gone, he still looks sweet, strong and oh-so-wonderful. I stopped looking at him, and one of this days, I'll gather the courage to lay him to rest.

Rest in peace Bunny Bob.

1 Mar 2008

Lost chances

I get my one in 4 year chance to propose to my man and he is conveniently hiding somewhere closer to the North Pole than to me. Ok, he is not hiding, he actually lives there. Apparently, where DVP comes from, were he to refuse my marriage proposal, he would be required to pay me 12 pairs of gloves, and i can only propose to him on 24th, as opposed to the English tradition of 29th Feb, which happens to be the medieval leap day.

Digging deeper, I found that in England, if a man refused the marriage hand, he was required to pay anything from a kiss to £1 to a silk gown. This was a law passed by a five year old queen. Now, the men claimed that that was too much pressure (don't know whether the pressure was - to be asked to marry or to have to pay £1 or a silk gown) , hence the restriction that women could only propose once every four years, to save the men. If i was making the laws then, my sweet response to them would have been...






21 Feb 2008

What Do Women Want?

A question I'm sure all men have but no one to answer it. I'm not going to offer you answers, sorry, I'm just asking the question also. I talked to a pal of mine today after a long time, lets call her Mari. Mari has been trying to dump her boyfriend for a few months now. reason? He is not ambitious for her liking. Well, he works hard, he has an okay job but he is comfortable with that. And worse, he lives like pauper. He store away all his money - for the future he says. That doesn't work for my pal Mari, as she says she is alive now, the huger chunk of that money should be used now. It sounded like a petty thing to me until I realized that she had told me that on more than five occasions.

She does not have a job and they have a mutual agreement in which he supports her financially at times. She does not want him to use that money on her, she wants him to invest it, put it towards an income generating project that she will see results from. That does not seem to be going through his head. It is so bad that he has opted to live in shady part of town just to save the money - he living at the bare minimumest

So she gave up and decided to dump him. But he is sweet and kind and she feels guilty about leaving him. Mari ignores him for a while and until he gets the gist.

Now, she is regretting her decision. Why? because the world out there is harsh for her and she thinks about him, to quote her, 'First thing when i wake up, last thing before I fall asleep, and all the time in between'

What I'm i supposed to tell her? You asked for it? Go back and compromise? Hold on, the waves of missing him will pass and soon you will find the one?

DA

15 Jan 2008

Kenya Election - One Good Outcome

Desperate times calls for desperate measures, quote loosely used. Like sleeping in a stationary train in Mombasa because we could not travel to Nairobi due to insecurity reasons after the Kenyan General Elections. The Steward thought that rioters just before Voi would try remove the Railway tracks. Why anybody would want to do that is beyond me, but the again, haven't we seen looters getting away with Persian and Turkish carpets and microwaves from supermarkets even though they live in mud huts with cow-dunged floors and no electricity or solar power? Back to the train...I tried so hard to ignore mosquitoes till I couldn't take it anymore. I woke Lars up, and kicked him out of our cabin. It was his fault anyway, he had insisted on leaving the window open claiming it was too hot. Well, it was but anything was preferred, anything but the mosquitoes. Shutting all windows and the door, I declared war. Armed with a towel, I thwarted them, one by one, and watched triumphantly as they fell. All the was missing was a war cry and war paint. At this point, I suddenly have a mental picture of Jack and his army of choirboys in Lord of the Flies. Minutes later, (read 15 minutes less of an hour later), I was done... and victorious, just in time for breakfast anyway. As Lars counted each mosquito bite, with a twinge of pride in his voice, I cursed them. (Image courtesy of Diary of A Mosquito Abatement Man.) Now all you proudly black people out there know how it feels like to talk about mosquito bites that no one can see, only that endless itch to elaborate your agony, while our melanin-deprived brothers and sisters proudly display reddish bumps and get all the sympathy. Unfair I say!

A few more days of forced holiday made sure that our finances took the easiest way out. And final minute get-away-from-trouble decisions took care of the remaining coins. And that's the birth of this Blog.

Now that desperation (for cash) has hit, and hit very hard, have decided to turn back to my old flame - Writing. Writing and I have had a troubled relationship, one marred with infidelity and domestic violence. I'm ashamed to say, that my faithful estranged partner has been the victim. I stand culpable of all charges, and i have nothing to say in my defense. And if Writing ever asked for alimony, I would pay, non-begrudgingly, and maybe even offer to double the amount...As I write this, I'm all apologetic, teary even, at the neglect I have been giving my faithful partner and who has, despite all, stuck with me, always there, even when I was not aware. And I feel really bad that I now remember him (notice it is a he) in time of need, driven by my greed.

I'm reaching deep into my memory, to remember how it felt like to touch, to hold, to be engaged to Writing. How it felt, to run free, hand in hand, thought in thought, in sync with each other, joint at the hip...no, joint in mind. I'm exploring the possibilities of being re-united with my long lost love, my soul mate. It's a pity that I'm getting back to mend our relationship with an ulterior motive - the prospects of making money. It does settle my guilt conscious though knowing that Writing does not mind what I use him for, as long as it not libel or slander.... and plagiarism. In our relationship, those are our Trinity of Evil.

15 Dec 2006

Stop the World, I wanna get off

I was goona post this on Wednesday (today is Friday) with good news about my life and how I'm coping. I has a marvelous time at Outspan Hotel in Mt. Kenya, wont go into details. It's beautiful place, and I wanna go back, this time with better company.

Anyway, I came back and left for Kitengela same day. My hot-blond-blue-eyed-not-so-very-gay-friend invited me to his house, which borders the Nairobi National Park,and had the time of my life.that is after he had taken me on a jolly drive to the most interior parts of Dagoretti for...MEAT!!! Picture blonde-blue-eyed near Dagoretti Market at midnight...now picture me...fit?

Slept to the sound of the raindrops hard on the iron sheets, snuggled into duvet and had that lonely feeling (well, that always happens if the rain is hard and I'm alone). Then the bad news... my ex ex, (not funny) the Creative Director I talked about - the one who wanted back in (i should have gone!!) got an accident on Sunday (when i as busy 'havin fun' :-) and his best friend together with his wife died on the spot. My ex ex came out a little bit hurt, physically. Mentally, he is tormented. He pushes me away and there is nothing i can do about it. He refuses to see anyone... and it kills me.

Now I'm thinking, just that week, we had argued about him and I and what kind of relationship we had, and how he is never there for me and maybe it's because he is punishing me or my earlier sins. When we fought, we made love. He text-ed me on Wednesday - One-liner ' Wanna shag?' I was not pissed. He was drunk, so i did not take any notice. I remember telling him : I really don't care about whatever he wanted. When I was told about the accident, i was speechless. I fucking cared. I cared that i came close to loosing him. I love him and despite what pulled us apart, i did not want him out of my life like that.True he pisses me, I even piss him off more. But that accident opened my eyes to how fragile life is and why I should hold my tongue, even in anger.

As i thought about him, i remembered my other pal in hospital and i realized that we have no control whatsoever in the direction our lives take, no matter how hard we try. I wondered, i he knew he was gonna get that accident, would he have got into the car? what would have have done differently with his pal who died? If my other pal knew her boyfriend as gonna push her off 3rd floor balcony, what would she have done differently?

I decided it's either i get off this out of control world or i evaluate each decision, each word, each action, as if it were my last.

Oh, i started my new job which I'm gonna quit in January for a month to try another one then make a decision then... life never stops..