Running away from ... The ShaggzModo who spied me....

Ya running and ya running
And ya running away.
Ya running and ya running,
But ya can't run away from yourself
Can't run away from yourself - Bob Marley

Well... after buying $100.00 running shoes...and other miscellaneous running accessories, I sure hope Bob Marley didn't know what the hell he was talking about. After all, in this race I'm running, the only person I gotta beat is me... Now, if I can't run away from me, then pray do tell.... is the end even in sight?

No? Well I don't know... gotta run for now.... am a keep running till I can get away from this shag.... Wait, there really was a post in here somewhere.....

The Captain n I... and other reacquaintance storos

So today I woke up at like 7:00 a.m WTF! On my day off, come now... But no problem, I was on my way back to lala land in minutes.... that is till I remembered this girl I'd been chatting with on Bearshare last night (or was that this morning?), before I drifted off. Long of it, at 8:30 I was huffing and puffing as I jogged past my workplace, trying to keep up with my jogging partner, who seems to want to prove that what they say about her in the gossip columns is true.... 'That when she calls, men come running.' Very out of breath but glad all the same that I wasn't inside kissing @ss, having extricated myself reluctantly from a steamy chat session that was only marred by the fact that this girl is in Italy.

So yes suga... I did go running like I had told you I would... 2010 Boston Marathon is back on the door of my fridge as a goal. And to tell you the truth, getting reacquainted with my shortfalls was no fun... At least not nearly as getting reacquainted with you yesterday was.... but I'm getting ahead of myself once again.

First, the Captain:-

stolen from here

So the other day, Sunday - Memorial day these sides, the Captain and I got reacquainted.

K: Hi how u doing? I'm K; KK

Cpt: Morgan, Captain Morgan (winking conspiratorially)

K: Well Cpt... Mighty glad to remake your acquaintance (returning the wink)

Cpt: Aye Savvy, same here mate (I could swear I detected a New Jersey accent in there somewhere).... You ready to party hommes?

K: You betcha...

And we proceeded to get to know each other, quite intimately I would venture to say. Pretty soon we were consulting each other on when to use the bathroom, weighing the risk of getting caught by the WPD with our pants down in the middle of downtown against that of trying to make it to a public latrine without dripping.

Somehow, he managed to convince me that he would be able to contain himself and not give himself away while I visited with my sick auntie in the hospital. You should have heard us argue about whose fault it was that I had belched out loud at a most inopportune moment. Apparently I should have warned him to hold his breath... Thankfully, the embarrassment didn't kill my aunt, I'd never have forgiven him otherwise. As it is we hang out all night and like always, we had a fallout at some point in the night... and as always, it was due to his stupidity.

You know, I'm kinda used by now to his antics when overindulged... The thinking that he can dance, charm, be funny... etcetera etcetera and his proceeding to act the fool as he tries to prove to the rest of us that he can. All of that I've learnt to live with... a day later it's usually all forgiven and forgotten... or more aptly forgotten and therefore forgiven. This past Sunday though, he went past stoopid to unforgivable.

Now, we all know that when the last song is playing you want to be dancing with the girl who you want to take home, or if that doesn't look like it will work out quite, at least get her number to take home. It doesn't matter that you haven't danced at all that night.... if you don't want anaa bloke doing the honors then you better be the one in whose arms she ends the party in. Now, every dude knows this... but what does the this geezer do, right before they start playing the last song, he manages to pull out of the position we have worked all night to get ensconced... the rear of this beautifoo Kenyan girl who from what I've managed to gather by then, her good looks are only rivaled by her sharpness... a good looking brainee with a great behind... can you say once in a lifetime.

Well, not the ambitious Captain... Nooo.. out of the corner of his eye he notices these good looking faces that can't stop smiling at him... and without stopping to think or at least consult with me, he lets go of the bird in hand for the two in the bu... well, ballroom actually. I am actually thinking its a good move until we move closer and I realize that I know these two girls... but alas it is too late as I get pulled into a tight warm double d hug, and a moment later the lights come on and harshly expose his glaring folly.

Being the gentleman I am, I went on to dance the last dance with my two beautifoo cousins.... well it was more to save face than anything. The Cpt was besides himself..... there is no blood connection he tried to argue but I was inconsolable. They are my cousins, and besides, I already had their numbers. So I went home to my empty bed, sullen after having told off my old friend and admonished him that I did not expect him to be there when I got up in the morning.

Second the BHH.....

Two O'clock next afternoon, last night's saga nearly forgotten but for the nagging headache the good captain left behind, found me racing to what has become our annual BHHs (Boston chapter) with Suga.... BHH for those not in the know stands for Bloggers Happy Hour with the s in ours denoting the several hours it lasted. The highlight, other than seeing my dear Tandra, whom I hadn't seen since Thanksgiving last year, was the ride on the Subway, which given that she uses it quite often, wasn't as awesome to her as it was to me. But given the recent crash that resulted in part (or was it entirely) because the driver was texting while driving, I couldn't wait to get on and watch, with my camera on the ready, incase this driver was waiting to learn from his own experience. But this driver was either good, or too good at hiding his texting.

So... sorry, no pictures of peeps doing what they shouldn't while doing what they should. Instead, here is one of me while we were having lunch at 'Dick's Last Resort' whose name should tell you enough about our experience there. If it doesn't, then this picture of the paper hat that our brash waitress made for me should.

If that didn't do it.. then go here

All in all, a good time was had by all as we explored Boston... a beautiful city I would recommend for all to visit.... when it's warm. Frigid Boston is exactly that, frigid. Take my word for it. We saw the greatest places on earth via the huge Mugar Omni Imax at the Museum of Science, that is a must visit, though we both agreed that the director obviously forgot to consult with us when picking out these 'Great' places.

Last and least...

About a quarter off 1:00 this morn... that is quarter to for those of u who like me were not brought up in New England, I get home with one thought in mind... sleep! Except it wasn't to be as my South-African-Italian friend was online and interested in talking... Crys was also on and in a bloody shock and the glass of Cpt and coke was still swirling around in my head... traveling all too familiarly in my system. Yes, I know, My name is KK and I have a weakness for Captain Morgan.

In Other News:-

We are officially retiring our trusty mammoth of a phone -

Nokia E61

It served me valiantly for four months in the face of sleeker fancier phones... It actually outlived my last failed relationship... Good Lord, the secrets it's carried for me. But don't worry my ol' fella... you've been replaced by a sleeker, thinner, smaller, faster, sexier and definitely worthy replacement. What do you know, it can even take pictures... Well u should know since I took this one of you with it. Unfortunately I couldn't use u to take one of it with you coz of course you have no camera. But never one to be ashamed... I stole another

Nokia E71

I apologize for the extra long post... please feel free to skip over whatever content you find unappealing:) If the Cpt. Morgan picture is yours and u object to my use of it, please let me know in the comments section and I'll find a replacement... Heck, if it's not yours and you don't like my use of it... let me know.

Drum Roll Please........

Thank God for English… Tonight, I graduate..… Oh wait… Am I getting ahead of myself. Tonight it’s the pinning ceremony, Saturday is the graduation. But the pinning, I’m told, is infinitely more significant to the nursing students…

So, today I’ll be all decked out, minus the gown and cap… those ones my friend Anne has to wear… after-all, she’s the one who tirelessly went thru the motions of learning and cramming those tedious texts, spent those sleepless nights, burnt the famous midnight oil and you know… sat for the tests. Things I couldn’t very well be bothered to do… which is why, as she walks up the stage amidst hollering and heckling from her friends and family, to receive that hug, and pin and whatever else they give them nurses, I’ll be vicariously enjoying it thru her.

That, my friends, I’ve found is the easiest and least committing way to graduate…. Heck I don’t even have to cram the ‘Nightingale Pledge’. Too bad I couldn’t get my mother to come watch me, but there is always next year.

How do I convince her that graduating vicariously is just as good, if not better, as the real one.

Seriously speaking... happy mother's day and all...

"A man never sees all that his mother has been to him until it's too late to let her know that he sees it."
-- W. D. Howells

Yesterday morning found me hiding from yet another looming hangover – as I fought a losing battle (an epic one so to speak), clutching desperately at an elusive mother’s day post that had been gnawing at my conscious for the past few days... all in vain. The words were, at best, a blur that seemed to be pulsing in and out of sight, glowing teasingly through the alcoholic fumes from the previous night’s Bacardi. Somewhat reminiscent of a ghost town scene in a horror movie... you know those ones with a neon sign with half the letters missing flashing eerily through the foggy dawn? Yes that one.

I shut my eyes tightly in a bid to clamp down on the gist of it… and winced as deep within the recesses of my mind the squint set off an explosion of color that flashed through the drunk void to the very front of my eyelids before dissipating into a wooly darkness that was about as comforting as it was disturbing.  I sighed in relief and thankfully sank into the warm and comfortable darkness. When I came to again it was to the realization that I was late… if the sun, shining through my half open blinds, was anything to go by.

This morning I got up... sat up straight in my bed, noted that the cold sweat that should have been trickling down my spine was absent - thank God, and started thinking. See, I woke up from what should have been a nightmare... but wasn't. I dreamt, that I was a serious writer.... Yeah you heard me... a serious writer no less. Now, for all that know me you can understand why this was a nightmare... Me? Seriously writing? Can you even imagine? Hell would definitely freeze over....

So there I was, this morning, sitting straight up in my bed, muttering to myself.. the incredulity of it all. Then I started thinking... and you know about me and thinking. Or do you? Well, suffice it to say that I am unable to think. Maybe I shouldn't say unable since I honestly think that what I'm writing here does make sense at some level or the other. What I mean to say is that whenever I consciously determine to think about something, the thinking gets lost in the act of thinking. Think about it this way... I can think about how am thinking about what it is that I am thinking about... which obviously doesn't make any sense since that basically amounts to thinking about how am thinking am thinking.

O.K. I have to admit that didn't make much sense to me either... well it did... Anyway, so there I was thinking about this dream that I never quite had because at some point in the dream, I totally lost interest and drifted off to slumber-land while still in the dream... I bet that never happened to you. But anyway, something happened, in the dream still, that jolted me out of my slumber but by then the nightmare was over and it was almost time for me to get up. So I woke up and like I had said before, started thinking about the dream about being a serious writer.

But what does it mean to be a serious writer? Is it one who writes seriously... gives serious consideration to whatever it is they are writing? Taking the time to think seriously about what they are writing, even when there isn't much to think about. Or is it the writer who writes, you know... seriously, as in its no joke, every one knows he writes. As in, one would think he gets paid coz in all seriousness he writes quite a bit. He eats word counts for breakfast, that's how serious his writing habit (for lack of a better word) is. There is evidence, lots of it, be it in his personal journal, online blog or your local bookstore, that he writes... seriously. Or is it one whose writing the reader has no choice but to take seriously... you know, like a letter from the IRS.... Now there are some serious writers. Or from the Green card lottery...

Well I didn't get far in this attempt to determine what it meant to be a serious writer, I realized that I was once again running late. Mothers' Day was nearly here and I still didn't have that post. I definitely ain't a serious writer by any stretch of the imagination.  I guess I do have another thing to thank my mother for not being able to do... yeah I blame my mother for all that I am today.

So, while I'm sure if I had enough time I could come up with a really great post to commemorate this day and honour a mother whom am sure like most of your mothers is irreplaceable in my life, I will paraphrase ~Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895 and say... All women become like their mothers.  That is their tragedy.  No man does.  That's mine.

 

Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers and mother's to be and sure even the wannabe's.

Could you be loved.....

Post title inspired by Bob Marley's song of the same title.... There is no corelation btwn post and title... so don't look for it. This past valentines, once again feeling the pressure (mine own) to post something profound, I went looking to one of the greatest lovers that have entertained the world and all I found was a title. Not that there wasn't in his huge discography enough lyrics to inspire a mini baby boom, but my not so vain need to keep this post authentically K left no room for plagiarism or whatever posting other people's lyrics is called.

Then today... almost three months later, having the posting itch again, I went into my archives and found this draft title and decided that my post could fit well with the title:-P Now that an eventual exit from my current relationship is looking more and more inevitable (don't ask... and please SE don't say you told me so), I guess the revelation from a dear friend and workmate during the im conversation that follows below will turn out to be quite useful. The last half of it contains the said revelation but I thought I'd post the whole conversation for context... maybe not, for fun.

No, I do not record all my conversations with her or with anyone for that matter; I just did this one because I thought, at the time, that the info here was priceless. I have done my best to remove any identifying info to avoid any potential embarrasment to my dear fried LK, and the wonderful company we work for.

BTW, it wasn't long after this conversation was held when the long arm of the law reached out and picked up the phone, and in no uncertain terms and in the warm and beautiful voice of my then boss, now my boss' boss' boss, let me know that company IM was for company business only and I was not to IM LK again unless it was on said company business.

I apologize to the non-sheng' speakers... Even in it's mildest form I'm sure it will throw you off a little, just skip over the words you don't understand. The context, I'm sure, will come through anyway. And for those of you who can follow, the misplaced Rs, like in ROR are a private joke - something to do with one of my heavily accented tribesmen trying to hit on her.

LK [8:47 AM]: hello

KK [8:47 AM]: habari ya wikendi?

LK [8:49 AM]: went well - how was urs......?

KK [8:49 AM]: not bad either

LK [8:50 AM]: went to Woburn to see my boy B - aish, ur mama likes you....huko ni mbali, I drove mpaka I got tried.

LK [8:52 AM]: I even took a nap when I got there

KK [8:55 AM]: lol! How's the poor baby

LK [8:58 AM]: he was doing ok - but was so much better by the time I left......

KK [8:59 AM]: ya wareva

LK [9:03 AM]: lakini Woburn is far.......

KK [9:04 AM]: yes... Is why I appreciate her driving here so... especially since she hates driving

LK [9:08 AM]: I definately feel her pain

KK [9:09 AM]: Pain? Love obscures any pain

LK [9:10 AM]: whatever!!! its more like madness

KK [9:11 AM]: it's been called a lot of things

LK [9:17 AM]: did u work this weekend?

KK [9:18 AM]: yes...

LK [9:18 AM]: n did she come?

KK [9:18 AM]: yes.. jana

LK [9:19 AM]: so she is home right now......?

KK [9:19 AM]: yap

LK [9:19 AM]: heh! u r spoilt. its amazing u do come to work and leave her at home

KK [9:20 AM]: why? She is spoilt... nimeacha ka amelala n we went out jana

LK [9:26 AM]: oh where did u go?

KK [9:27 AM]: Fusion

LK [9:27 AM]: he! how was it?

KK [9:27 AM]: kawa... not too many peeps

LK [9:29 AM]: n the music? who else was there?

KK [9:29 AM]: Music was off the hinges... just the kawa guys and some girls

LK [9:32 AM]: oh - did u have fun?

KK [9:32 AM]: Yes... I did

LK [9:45 AM]: stayed mpaka the club eneded?

KK [9:45 AM]: much to my regret

LK [9:46 AM]: lol - u r strong

LK [9:57 AM]: got ur tax money......fianlly made an appt.

KK [9:58 AM]: with who?

LK [9:58 AM]: the dude that does my taxes

LK [10:02 AM]: u coming over to the front desk soon?

KK [10:03 AM]: Yes... why?

LK [10:03 AM]: need a spoon. Home alone on this end doing payroll

KK [10:03 AM]: half an hour she said

LK [10:04 AM]: k i'll go get it - in 1/2hr my blood sugar will be too low

KK [10:25 AM]: Did u get ur spoon?

LK [10:26 AM]: no not yet - busy

KK [10:26 AM]: k

LK [10:26 AM]: bring me 2

KK [4:21 PM]: How is it coming along?

LK [4:21 PM]: done with the entry - now to edit. need to leave like 20 minutes early too - post office run how is mama

KK [4:22 PM]: Good n satisfied Brought her to a Chinese eatery for lunch

LK [4:23 PM]: this time she did not cook? its good to be spoilt - oh how I wish what Chinese Eatery?

KK [4:25 PM]: Harvest Moon

LK [4:25 PM]: seen it - cannot remember - is it the one on Gold Star?

KK [4:26 PM]: Yes

LK [4:26 PM]: oh!

KK [4:27 PM]: what?

LK [4:29 PM]: is there a place to sit in there?

KK [4:30 PM]: Yes... dimly lit for a very romance inducing ambiance

LK [4:31 PM]: ROR Stop the afternoon madness........L;MAO

KK [4:32 PM]: Wewe... u don't jua chinese food aroma is full of pheromones?

LK [4:32 PM]: ROR..........STOP IT IM IN A FIT OF GIGLES

KK [4:33 PM]: Si that's why most love scenes are preceded by ordering out Chinese

LK [4:33 PM]: Sweet Jesus - u get even funnier.....................................ROR!!!!

KK [4:34 PM]: haiya...its no joke... so when a jamaa suggests u do Chinese.. insist on eating out
rather than ordering in unless of course

LK [4:35 PM]: FYI - has nohing to do with the food - a mama already knows if she will or will not
do anything with you, from kitambo

KK [4:36 PM]: Now that is cheating on your part.... yaani u acha I expend all my resources and u jua what the end result will be already

LK [4:37 PM]: its not kwa ubaya - we are still seeing if anything would go down, should we not give it up......we call it research

KK [4:39 PM]: mhmm! Well, then in the future, should I get back in the mkt so to speak, I'll stick to Chinese food coz its cheap and if she was to give it up she will if not ni sawa tu... at least I didn't go broke in the process

LK [4:39 PM]: ror thats the problem - im a mama of steak n potatoes not Chinese

KK [4:41 PM]: but u have to admit it.... there is a certain romanticism to ordering Chinese..

LK [4:41 PM]: uh...nope I need a man who can cook some soft steak, and take off the 'mafuta' for me

KK [4:42 PM]: aish

LK [4:42 PM]: oh yeah- if u say u'll cook nyama for me - it had better be soft

KK [4:43 PM]: ara... si I thought that was standard..

LK [4:44 PM]: nope - some make it hard rookies darn, rookies

KK [4:44 PM]: who dat... who pikiad u hard nyama?

LK [4:45 PM]: ror - no names will be disclosed

KK [4:45 PM]: ndiyo... sawa tu.. I'll figure it out one way or the other

LK [4:45 PM]: lol

KK [4:45 PM]: si I thougt u were leaving 20 min early

LK [4:46 PM]: grrh forgot - laters

KK [4:47 PM]: baadayes

LK [4:49 PM]: k - nite

KK [4:49 PM]: nite

And to think I cooked.... and still didn't get any. I basically just came short of proposing before I could get some. Where were you LK when I needed this advice. Now a heart is about to be broken, and my car possibly keyed if not worse.

Sigh! Games people play.