Me too...me too

Inspired by ummm! some bloggers we know... I bought me a camera on my way to vacation land and so I interrupt my poolside lounging to post these great pictures of the sun setting on the gulf of Mexico.

Who am I really?

Where am from and Where I am going.
Not to worry... am not about to bore you with the story of my life.... rather, although I aim not to, I will bore you, just not with the story of my life... No, that one is so unremarkable I'd have to embellish it quite, or otherwise risk boring myself to death as I write..... Besides, its rather long, and unending, and I've but 45 minutes before the Boss kicks me off of his bandwidth and sends me away - to my vacation... Ahhh! Vacation here I come.

Now this is a question with which I grappled for the longest time and no answer seemed quite right.... They tended to be either too critical of self... self depreciating even, or layered in a cloak of self righteousness. I was too blinded by my present to see the future clearly and I was too afraid of my past catching up..... and only keeping an occassional weary eye on the cracked rear-view mirror.

Pretty soon I lost control... one minute it was smooth sailing.... next thing I knew I was crashing through foliage.... bumping against unidentified objects ..... reeling this way ....and then that way.

By the time I had the sense to try and break my fall... my falll had gotten broken..... by the bottom... and it hurt... like hell..... but hell it wasn't. That only came later... I saw who I could have been and I compared him to the wreck that I now was.... t'was hell I tell you... or the closest thing to it I know.

Amazingly I survived.... not to be mistaken with an amazing life thereafter. That indeed it hasn't been... blunder after amazing blunder has been more like it...

When the dust had settled.... and the vodka had numbed the pains.... I gathered what little brain cells had survived.... came up with a workable plan:-

A two year hiatus... away from the person I used to be.... his ambitions and all. I'd experience a carefree life... free of responsibilities to self... and to others. Then I'd hook up with this guy I wanted to be.... and building on my previous experience.... and the lessons from the school of hard knocks ...... and

Now here I am... three years later .....still wandering about... in this wonderland of credit-worthlessness.... drifting from hand to mouth and from mouth back to hand... from robbing Peter to paying Paul.... soliciting Gina.... outside the mall.... evading the IRS and outsmarting the Cops. Tis really a dogs life out here

Christmas List

Ok... I finally get it... I am this very day right this here and now starting one... After nearly a decade of giftless Christmas's in this here land of alleged milk n honey..... alleged because I am yet to encounter anyone feasting on both.... or swimming or bathing in.... or wateva. But... I done seen some milky honey(s), for wateva that counts...

As I was saying, after many 6 O'clock risings, (that late only because I did not have to run downstairs to a none existent livingroom... and similarly scant christmas tree), only to observe, on my way to the sweatshop that is my source of sustenance, with a fair amount of disappointment that Santa had not been keeping track of my good deeds, again, this year and had thus not made it down my chimney.... again.

And I didn't have to check to make sure the fat dude was not stuck up there.... since the up there would imply that my humble abode did indeed have such a handy amenity as I suppose a chimney is.

I have finally figured out that the only way to get him to keep track of my good deeds is to have that list going full throttle... otherwise he has no motivation to keep track of anything.... God knows he already has his hands full without having to try and please a yung fella who obviously does not know what he wants or even that he wants anything.

In my defense.... I have only recently discovered the existence of such a list.... Perhaps due to the fact that I was brought up in a home where not a whole lot of emphasis was put on lists..... other than that of the people who were expecting to get fed on any particular day.... and that only because of necessity.... seeing how one error of omission was likely to send one (more likely the weakest one) to bed unfed.

In retrospect, an emphasis on this listing thing would probably have made easier my understanding of the whole 'opportunity cost' concept - hm mm! so we have KSh.20// and we can either buy us a loaf n a half of bread or just about enough cobs of maize and a handful of beans for enough githeri for a week..... tough choice but uh uh... the argument for quantity over quality once again prevails...

As it was, paper (on which to make said lists on was scarce) and would have more than likely not made it to the end of the year..... having, perhaps, gotten used in the lighting of the 'jiko'.

That fancy charcoal burning stove that had me bending over it for ages furiously fluttering a folded (several times over) piece of paper or whatever substitute I could lay my hands on in order to get it going full blast....

That is until I discovered the susceptibility of the girls (hse girls and all) in my hood to my charming ways... that almost always had them so eager to either help in lighting mine or let me borrow a few glowing coals from theirs...

Sorry! Back to the list.... I at this time only have one item on said Christmas list.... a snooze-button-less alarm clock. Only way I figure to get rid of this terrible habit of snoozing myself into lateness on a daily basis. Even on a day like today, when I actually beat the alarm by more than an hour....

6:00 A.M - eyes flutter open and wonder at the fact that I am still alive and that the Maker has seen fit to let me keep my eyesight and a host of other functionalities that this body still possesses.

6:05 A.M - rub and focus eyes on laptop screen and try and make out what my crazy blogthren in obviously different timezones has been upto.

6:55 A.M - surmises that said blogthren is obviously headed to commitment - and that more in staffed facilities with padded walls rather than marital like - ships.

6:59 A.M - Drifts off into la la la land while speculating on how to avoid a similar fate as those above.

7:00 A.M - Jarred back to consciousness by irritation that is only attributable to 21st century devices. Reaches out in a now overly familiar trajectory and hits the snooze button.

7:03 A.M - Repeats above only with a little irritation this time.

7:06 - 8.06 - Repeats above at three minute intervals each time convincing self that there is plenty of time left.

8:33 A.M - Drives into work parking lot right behind slave driver.... wonders if she too has a snoozing problem... or perhaps a boozing one.

8:37 A.M - Finally settles in at workstation and surmises to self - "I should probably call and reserve me a room at one of those institutions...."

Oh that I had wings.....

like a dove I would fly.....

I don't write much about my dreams.... mostly b'coz I don't dream much, or I don't remember much of what I dream... or don't dream anything worth remembering.... whatever the case I remember quite vividly my dream from yesterday.

A vividness that may be explained by the fact that I was sleeping during the day, having gotten home in the wee hours of early mid morning after an obviously long night. If that's the case, it would confirm one of my worst fears.... that I am losing my night vision(s).

A rather funny dream in a comically depressing way. Inspired, perhaps, by some alcohol laced commentary on deportation and other things immigrant that was part of a pre-coitus conversation that same morning at Denny's (morning after destination of choice for those of us with emaciated wallets), before I consummately made love to that ultimate omelette.

I was a groom in my dream.... a first for me, and it was my pre-wedding harambee. A fair skinned Goldilocks type sat by me.... A sea of dark faces swam around us, some familiar but mostly not. The darkness was punctuated by a few white ones.... nervous smiles and all.

I was, to put it lightly, feeling the effects of whatever it was that they'd added to that punch they were so generously refilling my glass with. I watched with slight detachment as the glass slowly filled up and stopped just short of the brim.

I wondered what would have happened had it not stopped..... I envisioned the red stain spreading across the white table cloth... this in turn conjured up some nasty images of female undergarments.... I remembered an ex telling me about her sister from Red Hills...

I must have laughed out loud coz I got a kick in the shin from the bride to be... as she hissed for me to shut up.

I looked up to see if anyone had noticed... gotta keep up appearances if we are to get any money out of this crowd, and looked straight into the eyes of the MC which had suddenly materialized but a foot away from mine. He was saying something about the generosity of our guests who in a few hours of horsing around and pigging out.... and not necessarily in that order, had managed to come up with 22 Grand... and that not in Kenyan Shillings.

As I stared into those eyes, I wondered how he had gotten this job..... why had we hired him... besides his having the best credentials on the list..... and the fact that his was the only name on the said list.... what is he blabbering about? What are we all doing here? How I hate these things... this guy had insisted on it... stupid mofo that he is. Its my wedding and I did not want anybody's money.... I plan on taking care of my family by myself... are they going to fund that too?

"Ouch!" That shin again..... I turned to the blond whose name I couldn't seem to remember.... her face was oddly familiar but my vision was blurred and I couldn't quite make out her features. She motioned towards the MC who I saw was now extending the mic towards me.... Wanting me to say something.....

"Here K, tell these folks one of your jokes.... get them to laugh and am sure they'll gladly make that total 30 Gs."

With a lot of struggle, I made it to my feet..... Simultaneous thinking and limb cordination, I find, is rather difficult while inebriated. By the time I was fully composed I couldn't remember what it was that was required of me. I looked to my future mate for help but she was busy adjusting her bra straps; or was that duct tape I saw?

Somebody helpfully yelled 'joke! joke" ....

I decided to tell them about the Sister from the hills but I couldn't sort my brains sufficiently.... I openned my mouth but nothing came out. The room was unnaturally quiet.... I mean, these are my country men and women..... drank and quiet..... very un-them.

'Uuummm! Ladiesh and gentlemen," I begin while bending forward slightly to compensate for a suddenly wack center of gravity.... "my untanned gueshts" motioning with mic in the general direction of a couple of white faces......."friends, family Hic!... family and family to be....Hic! Sank you fery much for making this here such an ostentatious occasion."

I pause to gather my breath and for the wife to be to release hers. There is several sighs from the crowd... I guess she wasn't the only one holding her breath.

'What a crowd of posers......' I muse to myself.

Another kick reminds me that am supposed to be speaking.... I really ought to slap her but she'd probably start yelling.... and I can't stand yelling or scenes in general.

I clear my throat and continue.... "guys, I'll tell you why we need this thirty grand.... and why we won't take anything less...."

I hear what could be grumbling from the back but I continue undeterred.... "See, this here girl and I".... I grab her by the hair and watch as a few black faces squirm uncomfortably as she lets out a yelp and rewards me with a stilleto heel to my toes.

"This girl and I don't really love each other....."

Anticipating a general outcry from the women in the crowd..... I hold up my hand..."hold on, hold on.... hic! Lishen, let me tell you the truth, this marriage is for convenience and not for love..... In fact love was the last thing on our minds when we first met.... and slept together......"

By now I have the crowds full attention... except for some fool who was busy laughing.... must be the only one that got the joke.....

'Ours is a marriage built on lies..... might as well be since those based on love all end up there, right?' This time the pause is met with stoic silence..... they must be marveling at my logic....
So I plod on...

"She needed papers..... I thought her family had money...... no way to fit love into that equation. Hic!" I was expecting laughter but the only sound was that of bottoms shifting uncomfortably.

I notice someone tugging at my pants but I ignore them and continue. "We spent so much money pretending we were who the other believed we were..... We need the 30 Grand just to recoup..." I don't get to finish as I lose my balance and topple backwards, my head hitting some hard object on the way down.

Next thing I notice is a loud wailing noise.... must be the ambulance. I open my eyes slightly and wince in pain as the light hits my eyes. I reach over to touch the back of my head and knock over the alarm.

Crystal Clean:-

Missing U in a next to Godly way:

You know u really missin someone;
when u get a Deity's name mixed up with theirs.
All weekend long, they kept saying
Jesu Christo.....
And I kept looking around;
wondering where the hell was Crystal

Hemorrhage; of the heart

Deep inside my heart bleeds

Don't ask for I know not why

Deep inside my heart pleads

Mercy! Mercie! Please hear my cry

Its losing heart, its about to die

Deep inside my heart bleeds

The pain, the anguish.....

A dark cloud...... it obliterates the sky

Deep inside my heart bleeds

Worry not though...'twill soon be dry

Things we do for love.... for not

I was going to write about what our Lord did for the love he had for us but Maua beat me to it..... O.k. I lie.... but my dear M, I couldn't have written a better piece if I'd tried.

But try I was not willing.... I was pretty occupied trying not to freeze to death in a line waiting to enter a nightclub in Boston -downtown... Yaani... Me... a grown ass man chilling(no pun intended) in a line in sub-zero weather and not dressed for it either.

Now I know what some of you are thinking... if it's a sawa club then some things you have to be willing to compromise.... nah ah. Not me... I have driven past those long lines outside clubs and commented to whoever happened to be within earshot on the sheer madness of the whole idea...

I mean, 12A.M you are lining up for how long and for what? To help the DJ pack up?

Well, last night or this morning to be specific found me in line in the midst of fast talking leather clad, stilleto wielding girls and.... well I didn't get to look at the boys but they were there too. I had with me not my usual quorum of 1 but a bevy.... mhhhh!... yes 4 beautiful African.... sorry of African descent girls.

Now you may begin to errr.... understand why my scantily clad ass was shivering waiting to be felt up by an ugly ass mother........ and enduring the one eyed scrutiny of who must be the ugliest bouncer in Boston - and mean to boot.

Four girls my brodas.... four girls, and I endured umm! all night.. till four thirty this morning... then went to bed alone. How, you wonder.... does one wine it and wuk it and roll it out with four girls that long and still end up going home alone? It's simple... you just have to be me.

I actually had gone out with my beautiful cousin and her three friends - all with Caribbean roots... and despite having frozen our bodies by the time the measly bastards at the door let us in, we proceeded to have ourselves a really good time... really.

At the end of which we lost two of them to the cold, blustery winds at two when the club closed and the fight broke out. Well somebody said that one did, I was nowhere near the commotion so don't go referring the CIA to me... I can not afford to help them.

So two gone and one left.... right? Wrong... seems a friend of hers was waiting in the area and they were ready to catch up.... and not with me. So at this point you'd expect that I'd wise up and leave... go get some sleep, but uh uh. The cousin's friend's friend had a friend that he wanted cousin to meet... so being the sport that I am, I ended up on another line at two thirty in the morning.... shivering in what must have been sub zero degree weather, waiting to go into a late night dinner joint for the love of my dear cousin.

Now I know its nowhere close in magnitude to that of Jesus,but my near death experience was my 'good deed for Love' this easter weekend. Its not what I'd set out to blog about.... but I am at the moment sleep derived and my brain is nowhere near optimum function capability.

I love words... Playing with them

'It is not the beauty of word processors that is getting me all wet. It is the words. I love words. The are beautiful. They allow me pretend to be smart.When I have nothing to say I can always trust a big word to make me sound knowledgeable. " Potash

Unlike Potash - of whom I am a great fan and who on more than one occasion I have found myself envying quite a bit - for he has a way with words that is simply amazing. Reading his blog elicits from me an effect somewhat akin to the one I get when watching a master juggler at his best.....

Anyway, as I was saying, unlike him, I have a general mistrust for big words.... and though I share his love for words, I like them even more when someone else, such as he, is using them . I was for the longest time a voracious reader of anything written..... with the exception of text books and the like - which now, in retrospect, I realize would probably have done me more good in this here 'real world' that my teachers had constantly used to threaten me with than the ones I chose.

I read practically any novel, biography, autobiography etc that I could lay my hands on.... making me a what? A widely read intellectual.... no, not really. What it did was make me a great admirer of words and their ability to take over one's emotion-generator and produce all sorts of funny feelings. In the end, that admiration turned into a silent yearning to have the ability to use words in such a manner as to produce the aforementioned effect in others.

Then one day, while having a conversation with a friend.... which some way or the other turned onto the 'what do you wanna do when you grow up' avenue, instead of giving my standard Snoop inspired answer - 'a mother-effing hustler' , I was astonished to hear the word 'writer' slip out of my mouth.

Even more astounding was the fact that my utter astonishment was not mirrored on my friends face... as a matter of fact he looked at me with what could pass for fatherly approval and nodding his head said - 'yeah dude.... you ought to be.'

That one instant has stuck with me this last ten years and though when asked what career I was pursuing.... I've never been forthright in my claim to writing as it, I've always managed to allude to the fact that I would eventually want to settle down and write. I guess one of the things that has kept me from revealing this inclination to all and sundry - till now, is the fact that I have never written anything serious.

I have on several occasions attempted to, but those for the most part were in vain as I gave in to either the busyness of life (or more aptly my procrastinating nature got the best of me) or while right in the midst of my efforts, the idea I had that was going to be this best selling book either lost its appeal or as more often happened dried up and withered right where it had sprouted.

That was over the past few long years... sniff! Sniff! I know... didn't mean for this blog entry to end up being a stupid pity party... but I really have no control over what my fingers type. I really don't:)

Anyway, along with that yearning came a more formidable habit - so to speak. I learnt the fact that one can twist words around to mean different things.... like strands to make different types of strings or threads or ropes. I got into using words in a manner that left the listener or the reader not sure whether I meant what I was saying or was I really saying what I meant.

I did this mostly in jest and for the most part those who caught on laughed heartily at the implied joke while the rest grappled uncomfortably with the implications within those statements. Others went as far as to claim that they didn't understand what I was trying to say... and these were the honest ones, though they were wrong and I sometimes chose to correct them..... I wasn't trying, I was actually saying what I meant to say, its them perhaps, that were not meant to understand what it was that I was saying.

My friend Crys has referred to this as double-talk/speak... I'm sure there is a word for it - probably one of those long ones that I'm not particularly fond of. Borne out of my constant need for amusement... even self amusement, and perpetuated by the comical naivety of my fellow workmates when it came to dealing with someone who spoke 'their' language with an accent... especially one as 'heavy' as mine.

It never ceased to amuse me when after having to deal with me a couple of times.... people who had initially claimed not to understand a word I had said, these same people had commented on the fluency of my english. I realized after a while that they were either so caught up listening to the accent that they actually didn't hear what I said or they had made up their minds the moment I started speaking that they would not hear or as they put it understand me. Out of the frustration that that brought about I decided to play the 'dense native' and whenever they used a phrase I'd take it literally and question them on what they meant.


At first they'd think I was playing them..... how could I not have heard that before... I'd stick to my story and pretty soon they'd patiently try to explain a phrase which they had never really sought to find out what it really meant or how it came about. Take today for instance, when after coming back from lunch with my girl at a place where one of them had recommended, I started to relate....
K: Hey Mary, I took my girlfriend to the Ranch on today....
M: Oh! Really? How'd you guys make out?
K:(incredulous) You really wanna know how we made out?
M: Yeah.... how did....
K: Well.... I waited till the waiter had taken our order then I reached over, and holding her by the cheeks, proceeded to.... (all the while motioning with my hands)

By then everyone within earshot is bursting out with laughter as they realize that I'd misunderstood Mary's question. Mary herself is not sure whether am pulling her leg or not and proceeds to explain what she meant. So for the rest of the day they keep asking if I really had never heard that phrase... and I patiently explain that the only time I'd heard it used was in ref. to teenage indiscretions on T.V.
Later on in the day, Mary goes on a cigarette break accompanied by Tom.... and when they come back somebody teases them about it. Mind you Tom is about twenty years her senior and happily married and so is Mary, only not as happily. He also happens to be her senior - rank wise. So after all the jesting has died down and people are just getting back to what they are doing, I casually call out to Mary....
M: Yeah?
K: So how did the two of you make out?
It takes the office another ten minutes to get back to normal and me a whole afternoon of apologizing and explaining what I meant to ask.

In the meantime, I'm wondering how I got about talking about myself while I initially set out to write a piece on why the hell I blog. Anyway, I think it is all tied up in here somewhere but I am sleepy and what's left of my brain cells is all but drowning in alcohol.

20/20 Vision

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. 1 Corinthians 13:12

That was the title and verse of my daily devotional today... I remember reading a book by the title - Man in the mirror....

Good book... I think... or somebody else thought....

It was actually recommended to me by someone whose spiritual standing I respected and my recollection of its content are somewhat sketchy... But I digress... Actually, I don't think I even read the whole book.

Anyway, that there devotion sent me running to the bathroom this morning.... I had to see the man in the mirror....... or a poor reflection of him at the very least.

And the man was there, alright..... looking right back at me; a man!

Gone was the starry-eyed boy, who'd looked at the world.... and seen something to conquer; who's future had shone so bright... he'd constantly had to squint against its glare. A boy who'd smiled easily and laughed heartily... grinned thru his tears and hummed thru his fears....

Gone was the brave young kid who had been willing to singlehandedly take on the world... who while he hadn't had all the answers had only been too eager to seek out those who did... who'd had no tribal, ethnic or racial affiliations - he'd belonged to the world; and the world to him.

Gone were the eyes full of hope, the face full of innocence, the smile full of cheer.... Gone was the eagerness to please, to prove his worth, to win everyone over.... to take on the responsibility that the world was only so eager to heap upon his young shoulders.

Not even a hint of the young boy, that once was, could be found.

Instead was this man.... haggard looking, with eyes blood shot...... cold and shifty... taking on the world alright.... measuring everyone up.... seeing everything and revealing nothing - cold dark eyes.

What had he done with the boy? This man whose face did not even hint at a smile, whose furrowed brow told stories that his dark eyes would not.... whose thoughts were anything but discernible.

This was a hard man, this one... Much older than his years, maybe a little wiser to the ways of the world than he was willing to let on.....

He stared back.... straight back..... a glint of cynicism, perhaps... as though laughing inwardly at my bewilderment. He continued to glare at me as I analyzed the marks on his skin.... the pock marks that told of a battle hardly won... against acne; the barely visible crescent-shaped scar, that had defied age and lived to tell its own story; the razor nick's beneath the shadow on his chin; the tell tale lines at the corners of his eyes; ........those eyes.

Those eyes made me feel uneasy..... those eyes knew something I didn't... they looked at me all too knowingly.... like they knew what I was thinking.... what I would say, were I to speak.... The stared back at me.... openly challenging me to beat them... prove them wrong....

I had to look away, I couldn't stand those eyes....

I miss that boy.... I really do.

Now as I sit and ponder at that verse.... (Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. 1 Corinthians 13:12)

I am left to wonder.... what will happen then; when the two come face to face as am sure they will, the man and the boy.

Crossroad: The Epilogue

So me avoids the Crossroad this last Friday night....
Me watch my drinks n stay away from the gents...
Till two in the morn, n the Devil nowhere in sight

So me drives home, feeling all upfull and right...
Park the car and cross the street;
See who's by my door, and nearly take flight

Alls I've heard of the Devil truly is right...
'will tempt n tempt u, till you bite....
Will sneak up on you, in the middle of the night

Did I let the Devil in? Well.... not without a fight....
But the spouse was away, workin the third shift....
And if its all night, me thinks it got to be all right.......

Crossroad:The Epilogue - A Prelude of

The sun shall not smite I by day,
Nor the moon by night;
And everything that I do
Shall be upfull and right.
And if it's all night,
It got to be all right!
If it's all night,
Got to be all right!

- Bob Marley
(Night Shift)

The Crossroad: To call or not to call

"There is a fine line between courage and craziness, and one between wisdom and cowardice. The people who drew those lines never knew the difference." --

Tuesday morning found me leaving digz much earlier than usual...... I had had a fairly short Monday... and not just because they once again decided to confuse me by turning the clocks forward.... but that too.

On that fateful Sunday, I'd made my way out of the(now infamous) bathroom and tried to weave my way across the dance-floor to where I'd left my boys....

On the way I get accosted by three... Yes three.... committed mamas...... Apparently word's gotten out that Kei was disregarding normal business policy today... for these mamas (two of whom were married, and the third all but) want to do more than justdance.... they touch and they whisper, suggestively....

As I try (real hard) to pry myself from this tantalizingly big rear of the last of the three.... who should appear but Leah... I notice her from the corner of my eye and manage to step right into her path as she's dancing my way.

"Where is boyfie?"

She nods her head towards the bar to where a jamaa I vaguely recall talking to at some point is seating; watching a basketball game on T.V.
Some guys I just don't get.....

So we ragga, ragga ragga (hold bodies close together and somehow match the beats of the music with the movement of the bodies) for the next fifteen or so minutes... fifteen minutes of pure ecstacy I should add.... interrupted, finally, by the harsh lights coming on at closing time.

"I gotta go..." she says as she gives me a hug.....

Do you really have to? I ask, genuinely disappointed as I bury my face into her sweaty neck and drink in the raw smell of her skin.......

"Make sure you call me" She says as she detaches herself from my clutch.

She leaves all of my senses pining... craving for more stimulation.... I am not only punch drank from the alcohol, now am also drank with desire....

I find my boys and bid them farewell.....I wonder at this lighthearted feeling I'm feeling inside as I walk to my car.... somewhat akin to being in love... except I know nothing about that.

Drive home is fairly uneventful.... unless you count jumping several red-lights and picking up strangers at two a.m worthwhile events.... (They were but that's a story for another blog)

Anyway, I finally get home at around 3 am and promptly plop onto the bed.... Next thing I know, I am openign my eyes to bright sunshine.....

I know it even before I confirm with my watch that is way late.... 9:45 AM as a matter of fact.... I was due at my desk at 8:30... all I can do is burst out laughing.....

So yeah.... a rather short Monday... full of inexplicable aches and pains... thinly disguised hostilities from bosses and fellow employees..... laboured breathing.... and so on and so forth.... No time to ponder my next move at this particular crossroad in my life; besides I had a dinner date that night to worry about.

So Tuesday, with my boss' admonishment still ringing in my head... I arise bright and early and drive to work.... and right from that drive... till I start the car again as I leave at five.... I can honestly say that my brain's activity has been concentrated around one thought..... 'to call or not to call'

I'd flipped my phone open, and scrolled down to the L section so many times, an astute observer would likely have labeled me sick. I had not paid attention at work.... hardly gotten anything accomplished...

Why was I making this out to be such a big deal? I had asked myself that so many times..... and drawn a blank each time....

I had tried to remember our days together... and truly there was nothing spectacular about them. I had tried to remember her from Sunday night but that too was difficult..... save for those hauntingly deep eyes, there was not a physical attribute of hers that I could vividly recall.

What I remembered, though, was the lilt in her voice when she said to call... the intense way she held on to me when we hugged.... the abandon with which she'd danced... how she'd felt in my arms. It was all foreign and very real to me......

What little history we shared bore no bearing....

Or did it? Had I forgotten that the reason she had rejected my advances 7 yrs ago was the very boy with whom she was still cohabiting.... That her younger sister and I had had a very tumultuous relationship just around the same time?

Was she or was I out to get her for some conceived hurt from back then.... I've known a woman's fury first hand, I cannot afford to dismiss that thought....

And so my mind went.... all day... leaving little space for anything else.

By five O'clock I'd made a decision.... and no, I did not weigh the Ps and Qs.... I just got tired.... mentally and physically.....

I was gonna call and find out what it was that she wanted from me.... whether she was being serious or just stringing me along... Why now? How about her boyfie?

I was going to ask questions and was not going to hang up until I was satisfied......

No... am gonna tell her that I am game. That whatever she had in mind I was willing to do... God knows I'd waited 7 yrs....... Right, like she's gonna believe that.

How about I just play it cool and act like nothing happened the other nig....

"Hallo.... oh shit!" I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't realise the phone was ringing.... and she hadn't answered. I waited for her voice mail intro to end.....

Sasa Leah! Uuuumm its me... Kei... remember... uuuh yeah we sorta stumbled into each other.. the other night.....

I had to erase that one (thank God for digital voice mail) and about four other voicemails attempts... before leaving one with just my name on it.

Damn voice mails.... Now to wait n see if she calls back.

At The Crossroad; A Frosty Decision

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I have never been known to take the most traveled one... I delight in the journeys of discovery... as long as I am driving. So I'm sitting on this low sink..... why the heck do they have it this low anyway? Must be for the handicapped to easily access the wash facilities... don't you just love this country? Anyway, It's providing a great lean to for now... much more preferable than the wet toilet seat next to it.

I glance at Leah across from me... barely a foot between us, leaning against the wall.... I've known her these last 7 years... Five of which we haven't seen or talked to each other. Last I'd heard she had just moved in with the boyfriend after falling out with her parents.....

And she looks great... she's lost the baby fat she'd had when my eyes had first beheld her..... still as busty but leaner on the sides.... Her eyes are still as captivating.... They keep catching mine and holding them captive.....sic... till they are rescued by my incessant belching.

Then they are free to rove.... watch as Dedan's head rises and falls, rhythmically, in time to her breathing... they see the soft jutting of her collar bone, and follow the lengthy neck as it disappears under her straightened hair.

She's wearing her hair long.... can't tell from here if its her own.... not that I ever can, anyway... not till the next morning, when I wake up next to the hair minus the head.

Anyway, off of that.... we are done catching up......Or are we? Apparently she's here with the boyfriend... Yes! Same old one....

That knowledge, my friend, is anything but reassuring.... One of my boys just finished a stint at the Local Hospital; courtesy of some jealous boyfriend.... that shit's not for me.

She'd tried to describe him.... apparently I had been sitting next to him at some point tonight.... and had actually exchanged pleasantries. She'd seen and recognized me but had waited to catch me by myself.

She saw me lining up for the bathroom and had followed... and when I'd gone in and not closed the door, she had boldened up; jumped the line and locked the door behind her.

So as she's stating that we ought to hook up some time... something about some unfinished business..... am busy running some scenarios in my head on how to handle whatever situation is waiting beyond that rickety door.

There is a tentative knock on the door.... I reach over and flush the shitter. I turn to her, "your hubby had better not be a violent man.... "

I can remember vividly the last time I fought someone.... I'd ran home with a bloody nose... and gotten the self satisfied smirk slapped clean off of my twelve year old face.... my mother was not bringing up a title seeker.... she'd made it very clear.

I tentatively clench and unclench my fists as I tell her that though I had missed her terribly, and thought about her constantly, these were hardly the circumstances under which.....

Besides.... I don't do business with married people....

"Boyfie...." she interjects....

'Same difference...' I'm thinking as I try to figure out the odd pitch in her voice.....

Mhhmm! What was that unfinished business she was alluding to.... I know its against business policy, but Manze.... baby girl is looking dyammmm fine... And when was the last time I'd screwed the damn policy anyway.

Besides... Like I was explaining to Crys just the other day, if jamaa hasn't proposed after all this years....? Perhaps they are needing a human catalyst....

Those are my alcohol induced thoughts..... how about I get out of here.... while I still have my wits.... and all my incisors still intact....

So I take out my phone book... but alas! I can't get her number straight.... She reaches for my phone and accidentally.... or by design, grazes her hand against my inner thigh..... And an electric jolt shoots thru my body.... Now all my senses are up and alert.....

I stand up straight.... effectively eliminating the distance between us.... Now am not only seeing her, I can practically feel her; her breath against my neck, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts against my chest..... her eyes holding mine..... her hand as it feels behind me and shoves my phone down my back pocket.....

Then she's gone.... I hear the door open.... a short altercation... then entereth a heavyset man... and he heads straight for me. I brace my drunk self for the pain that I know is coming..... I'm thinking I probably deserve it.... Instead I get a drunken hug.... And a hearty congratulations.... This dude apparently has me figured for the ultimate Don Juan...

I gotta get out of here.... I may be this guy's hero... but am not sure about the others beyond the door.

I have to find my way out... of this place that is... I don't think I found what I was looking for.

The Crossroad: Where the Devil met I

Cross Road Blues
©(1978) 1990, 1991 Lehsem II, LLC/Claud L. Johnson

Administered by Music & Media International, Inc.

I went down to the crossroad
fell down on my knees
I went down to the crossroad
fell down on my knees
asked the lord above "Have mercy now
save poor Bob if you please"

Yeeooo, standin at the crossroad
tried to flag a ride
ooo ooo eee

I tried to flag a ride
Didn't nobody seem to know me babe
everybody pass me by
Standin at the crossroad babe
risin sun goin down
Standin at the crossroad babe
eee eee eee, risin sun goin down
I believe to my soul now,
Poor Bob is sinkin down
You can run, you can run
tell my friend Willie Brown
You can run, you can run
tell my friend Willie Brown
(th)'at I got the crossroad blues this mornin Lord
babe, I'm sinkin down
And I went to the crossroad momma
I looked east and west
I went to the crossroad baby
I looked east and west
Lord, I didn't have no sweet woman
ooh-well babe, in my distress

--Cross Road Blues by Robert Johnson

I went to the Crossroad the other night... That's the name of a liquor dispensing establishment on the wrong end of main street.... where but a month ago I'd finally found myself.

There, after a long period of soul searching, I'd finally caught a glimpse of who I really was... and though I didn't like the reflection, I was glad to see, finally, what a lifetime of following the rules (speeding doesn't count), celibacy, and moderation had made of me.

So on this past Sunday night.... after a long and (hard on a simple man's mind) weekend, I went back to the Crossroad. I was hoping to catch, if only, but a glimpse of myself.

To my utter dismay, everything had changed.... 'twas all upside down... inside out.... different. Gone were the white ppl. Gone were the Chinese glasses - plastic cups were strewn all over the place..... and the music was different... definitely black but different... Islandy black.

I tried to find the Men's room, but that too was gone.... The sign was anyway..... Instead, scrawled in white chalk, on a black wooden door with no pretense of flourish, 'Restroom'.... with no gender designation. It was only one door, and it came with a line.

I waited my turn.... I needed to look into that mirror... note my use of need as opposed to want... I had to find myself.

My turn finally came.... later rather than sooner. I lurched inside, not bothering to find the light, or close the door. With a little dificulty I found the faucet... it too had been moved... and set real low.... to accommodate the handicapped I'd assume.......

I had to stoop real low to find the mirror.... but that too was gone.... so was the crack... in its place was a metal plate.......wtf...huh?

So....I'm still stooped over... intently staring at the metal plate..... when the devil appears.

I am muttering to myself, not clear on what to do now that my purpose for coming in here has been nullified....

And I know am really lost coz realizations are slow in hitting me.... There's a time delay effect... The lights seem to have grown brighter and the noise - music n chit chat have almost been cut off....very muted.

And then there is this guy, very intently, staring at me..... and he's talking.... but I can't make out what he is saying.... like me he's just muttering to himself.... I look even closer, he does bear a striking resemblance.....

" Now that's vanity right there"

Huh? The voice came from behind me... and its low and husky, unmistakably female..... and a shadowy figure appears behind him......

Holy Shit.... that is me.... and am staring at the mirror.... well, polished metal to be exact but its doing the job with the lights on.....

Wait, the lights are on..... and am not alone.

I quickly spin around (as fast as I can in my inebriated state).... and.....

Lo n Behold.....

Ladies and Gents....

The Devil......

He's a She....

No..... she's not wearing no Prada...

She wears a designer smile.... designed to make even the strongest man weak in the knees.... but am not that man..... and my knees are already weak anyhow.....

And a hot (like hell)...... red Dedan Kimathi T-Shirt....

++++++++++++ Crossroads; The Devil n I +++++++

I went down to the Crossroad;

last night

And me n the Devil;

we got real tight

He paid. I overindulged;

then I took flight

But not before signing some contract;

to his delight

My soul, now, belongs to him;

as of last night

In Empathy...

I know she's now baaaack and this here show of support is a lil' bit past due; I couldn't do it afore coz this man just had to get some things off of his chest. But....., like the true friend that I is (self indulgently smirks), I am putting down my ...errr.... blogging pen in support of my dear friend Crystal.

So.... if I do not write about how, succumbing to common decency (and the convincing ways of one Neema), I relented and took a shower; ......if I don't tell how my clumsy Tawazaing attempt this morning had the roomie calling for an impromptu house meeting; .....and if I don't write about how the Dad who got told off by his Boss yelled at the Wife who in turn whacked the twelve yr old Son who in turn could only turn his frustration on the Family Pet and how at several points today I was able to relate to all five of them, it will be because I am out of bloffice, bluminating.......

But not to worry, my alter ego will do his best to ....ahem!..... enlighten(lie to) you.

Damn Scrubs! I'm also just saying....

Gone are the days when as a young boy, your only influence growing up was a group of old men who had outlived their usefulness (as worriors and hunters) and were relegated to lounging under Mugumo trees, drinking intoxicants and regaling us with tales of their Glory days. Now we have TV, Radio, and these damn blogs.

So I wake up again this morning! Late, with the taste of that delicious nyam-chom from D'Errico's, the Brazillian place downtown, still in my mouth only not so delicious 11 hours later. Late partly b'coz I stayed up late lending a sympathetic ear(eye) to my friend Crys till the wee hours of the morn, and partly b'coz I left my alarm(cellie) in the livingroom last night; effectively waking all but self on time.

So I have to wait till roomie and roomie's guest take their showers and their time while at it. By the time I get in the shower, I barely have 2 minutes of warm water left and just as well coz in fifteen I ought to be sitted at my desk working. So am in there turning the faucet when I remember what one Kelitu had to say about male hygiene... and in that two minutes I scrub scrub scrub away, and curse and scrub till the water gets tepid and my employee concience kicks me out.

Twenty minutes later I stroll into the breakfast buffet but nobody seems to notice that I am looking cleaner than normal.... in fact the big boss just asks if I plan on putting down on my timesheet that I was 15 minutes late... and I join the rest in the laughter.

But I do notice; the collar of my shirt is gliding smoother on my neck, I can finally sense a breeze in the area of my belly button, my scrotum is not sticking to my boxers and I can hardly sit down coz my ass aches so.

All this trouble for a girl who is at best five states removed; I doubt very much she will be inspecting my nethers today. So Kelitu, you can bet your last Geisha soap that I will be skipping tomorrow's shower.

A million and counting.....

Slogan on a T-Shirt I won this morning, in a raffle..... to celebrate our company's acquisition of our millionth phone customer.... Raffle for crying out loud. I mean, with a million more customers than they had three years ago, you'd think they'd afford to give us all a T-Shirt. But in their defense... they did provide a great breakfast buffet, catered and all. Besides, it's not like I contributed much to that customer's acquisition. All I did was pay their phone bills to ensure that they could call him and sell him their services.

Cooking.... not Communicating, Sisters....

Lord save me from girls who can't cook... or worse still, those who can but chose not to... What is this world coming to? I mean, I can totally relate with them..... I know how to cook but will not be bothered to.... But I am a man... or does that mean nothing anymore in these days of gender equality and same sex unions?

'Antidisestablishmentarianism'

There, I finally used a big word. I don't know what it means and no! I refuse to turn to google or wiki to find out.... I would never use it in my regular-speak, thanks to my mother and her heavy tongue which I inherited, and I won't use it in a sentence - in or out of context, but I will throw it out there.... Perhaps some of you bloggers who are forever sending me to google-land with the constant spewage of big words would care to enlighten us simpletons. I hope you too are forcede to go looking for the meaning of it.... and I hope I spelled it wrong just to throw you the hell off.

Ok. Back to my post...... I was going through my text msgs on my phone and came across a barrage of texts from my ex-GF from back in the days before we added the ex prefix. The majority of which went along these lines :- ...hi hon, am cooking tonight so if you are hungry you can stop by after class..... hi pie, am almost done cooking so if the worms in ur tummy r getting vicious only a little while longer and they'll be fine...... hi hon, I assume u r still @ d library. I am cooking, just call me when u leave.... and on and on and on... she clearly had learnt the route to her man's heart. She was good in communicating (her feelings) like that...... and I wasn't, but that's a story for another day.

So am looking thru and erasing them memory-evoking texts when I come across this particular one.....In reply to my text asking if she wanted me to go over to hers for the evening, she'd replied....

'sorry hon, I don't think you want to..... my sister from Red Hills is in town...'

Now, given her tendency to loudly communicate her 'feelings'....I could envision why she'd be shy about entertaining a nocturnal guest in the presence of what I assumed was her elder sister from London; but, we could always stuff a sock in her mouth or as I read in somebody's blog today... she could bite a pillow....there was a will and I was going to find a way.

So as soon as I can I call her and say, "Hey, how about we let your sister have the bedroom and we'll take the couch.... " or something to that effect.

And she bursts out laughing.... that outright laughter that 'communicates' to the laughee how err... stupid what u just said sounded.... So I counter... "hey, don't tell me you are going to let some Londoner ruin our night...."

This time she pauses a little before going, "Kei, you mean to say you never heard that phrase before?"

You can imagine my bewilderment as I enquire as to what the hell phrase she was talking about. So she goes..."Red hills..." and am thinking...."its not a Suburb of London?"

So sensing that we were not on the same page here (duh!), she attempted to take the wool off my eyes so to speak:-
".......mwaura?

...........rolling ?

.............raining?
.......... kunyesha?

...............red robot?
.................. in the red,
..............................reds?"

By this time I have a pretty good idea what she's talking about but am enjoying the growing exasperation in her voice....So I let her go on and on about her damn periods... and I end up going to bed hungry....I gotta find me a girl who can cook.

Monday.... What did u expect?

'The sure path to oblivion is to stay where you are.'
-Bernard Fauber

Once again I woke up in high spirits (mental note; Pls don't touch that bottle after 3a.m.), gingerly felt my way thru my morning routine.... opened my eyes long enough to drive to Posta then to work, then proceeded to carefully get thru the day -moving carefully from one corner to the other. Phew! I came this close to oblivion....... I could smell it from there.

Now... bring me that horizon.

Jack Sparrow: 'Me? I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid.'

Now what does it say about me that the movie character I identify with the most is Capt. Jack Sparrow of the Caribbean Pirate's fame? Not necessarily the swagger and the outlandishly gay mannerisms... but the out of this worldly suave-naivete that he personifies..... as he almost incredibly manages to pose for a pirate and a ship captain at that.

Every time he opens his magic compass and gives it that incredulous look that is half bewilderment and half resignation, I am reminded of my life which is not without its quirky compass - moral and all.... I oftentimes turn to consult it and find it missing from my not so deep pockets.... a realization that always sends me reeling as I consider the implications of being or getting lost and no way to find myself.

Other times I'll find it and glance at it more for reassurance than anything else, glad to know that I have a compass.... and knowing very well that consulting it will not get me out of the murk that I am at that particular moment working hard to stay in or run from.

For many are the times when I will seek to figure out where it is I am headed.... and it will clearly show me True North... usually in the direction opposite of where I'll be facing... and turning around in a wide circle will do nothing to change that... I'll try moving it to my left... right... up, down and it always leaves me more confused than I was in the beginning...

So for my own sanity... and that of those who's lives I captain... I refrain from consulting it till I really have to... and like Jack's, my fate - or is it Destiny, seems to always intervene at the very last moment.... circumventing disaster after last disaster and replenishing that supply of carribean brew that is so reminscent of that blinding concoction Mama Shei used to sell us in her illicit brewing and dispensing establishment.

Dear Diary...... ahem!.... Blog....sic!

'I've got so much to tell you; but I don't know what to say'..... taken from a very poignant (for lack of a better word) coming of age movie I was watching the other day. Sorry, I remember not neither title nor actors nor anything about the damn movie for that matter...... other than those words...... and even those.....well.

I love hot showers..... sic! Let me rephrase that given my penchant for going on and on and on about that thing called love; yet when push comes to shove....... I know zilch about it.... Or as my friend Meredith would say, grab your shovel anytime I start on that subject - It's just a bunch of Bull-Manure and you better get busy or you'll soon be knee deep.

Anyway, I like my showers hot..... Hot to the point where I can barely stand it..... and stand (in there) I do until common-sense or, as is often the case, someone else needing the facilities urges me to get out and get on with my life.

There is something about the way hot water soothes my body that lulls my mind into that phase or mode that I like to call babble-land...... you may recall my talk of babblicious incoherence.... where the thought generator goes into overdrive and produces at astonishing rates thoughts that are not all-together......all together.

I'm what one might call a thinker in denial.... Given the opportunity, I can think a thought into obscurity..... think it... rethink it, rethink the thought and so on and so forth till I have no Idea from whence the thought came nor to what end it was intended. Knowing of my possession of this weakness.... trust me it is no strength.... I tend to curtail any semblance of such, the moment it rears its ugly head (for lack of a better phrase).

That is except for when I am in the shower(hot). There is something about hot water enveloping my body that weakens my mental faculties(the sentries that watch out for run-away thoughts), and it is not rare for me to spend upwards of thirty minutes under the shower-head if it is so indulging. As it is, the water heater in my Condo is in cahoots with my roomie or someone and won't indulge me that long..... after fifteen minutes the water temp. tapers off at a ridiculous rate.

And yet they still tease and complain; roomies, cousins, girlfriends.... the lot, that I take for ever in the shower. And it goes back to my days as a kiddo when I'd fill the kirai (basin) with hot water and submerge myself in it (best I could) and sit there till either the water went tepid or the mboch or even worse Mathee came looking for me....

You might be tempted to say that I was day dreaming, and in some ways, perhaps I was, but I would not just dream.... my mind would travel (I know that's what dreaming is)... from that day's class and theorem to the people in my life and what I thought of them. I remember analysing at the age of 10 why my life thus far had turned out as it had, what I had or didn't in common with my friends, why I always felt and was treated as different even amongst my peers.

I would think of ways to act, to fit in, to influence what others thought of or reacted to me... I'd think of funny lines to draw people away from those lines of questioning that I hated to counter and which they unfailingly brought on. I'd wonder at what others thought, how they functioned and try to see life through their eyes... I tried to to see into the future and how I would tackle the unknown and then the mboch would yell.... and I'd scuttle, barely noticing the water was now almost cold, and lifting with both arms would raise basin over head and pour......brrrrr....

Showers are so much more convenient..... hot tubs even more so....