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.

Holy Sh!#! A Hotness Crap Award... Who coulda thot.

First and foremost, ladies and gentlemen, let me start by saying how sorry I am that I am late and unprepared for this auspicious occasion. Usually, while I have been known to be late on more than a few occasions, it has been a great source of pride and joy for me to know that I have never once been late because of being unprepared… As a matter of fact I have on all those said occasions been quite prepared to be late. Today, however, I came really close to ruining that impeccable record. But, as it was whispered to me backstage by none other than the cue boy, I was not late because I was unprepared; rather, I was unprepared because I was late.

Anyway, to cut a long story short…. the son of a gun (not to be confused with Our Kid) that was supposed to read my acceptance speech for me bailed out at the last minute… and not having that many friends in blogosphere (tongue in cheek), I was forced to show up albeit quite late, and unprepared. But what to do.. huh.

My wise grandfather taught me very little about speech giving. In fact, if my long term memory serves me right, he only taught me one thing about everything. And that was that one shouldn’t use three words where two will suffice.

So…...Thank You.

Tandra… thanks a bunch for having faith in my ability to overcome my inability to be really honest. And Crystal... Am not sure what I like more... that you took me seriously or the compliment you so graciously lavished upon me. So here goes nothing….

1. Honesty : I don’t do honest…. That’s just me. I’m too modest.

2. Seriously: Well… I don’t do that either. And it’s not that I don’t try… I do. I just don’t get far with it. I can honestly say that I seriously don’t get anywhere with being serious.

3. Work: Very inspiring…. Company policy explicitly states that I am not to read or write or comment on blogs… Yet, most of my inspirations occur while at work and seeing how my memory is so short term, I am forced to use devious ways to write and publish them while at my very open work station.

Why do I play this Russian Roulette with my main source of sustenance? Beats me…. Could be I like the thrill… Like how I started drinking at Sixteen and quit (for five years) after I turned legal at 21…. Or maybe it’s coz I am usually either too lazy or too drunk to write coherently when I am home. Yes… I am writing this in the middle of a really busy day…..

4. Girls… Yes, they come fourth on my list. At least they are higher up than boys. I like girls, older girls in particular. I find them so…. Ummmm….. mature. LOL! Of all my failed relationships, 90% or so have been with someone older. Largest age difference being closer to twenty years than I am comfortable with. Perhaps, right there, lies my problem…

Mhmmm! Something else to ruminate on.

5. Men…. I am constantly wondering about my father. Who he is… where he lives… Does he still live… Does he have another family… Do I have siblings I know naught about….. Perhaps that might explain number four. Perhaps not…. But just imagine if I went out with a young lovely one who, God forbid, just happens to be my blood sister… and imagine if she, like me, didn’t care too much about customary courting and one day our child twenty or so years from now decides to take it upon themselves to research their family tree.

6. Aspirations 1 - I wish I was a little bit taller…. My I.D. claims that I am 5’10”…. Which I am with my shoes on. And that is not short if I were on location with Locococomoco at whatever East Asian land mass she happens to be doing whatever she’s doing from.. But where I am, I truly wish I was a little bit taller coz I hate being at armpit level especially in a techno club.

7. Aspirations 2 – I can’t quite see me doing this for much longer. Somebody needs to come up with an application that will let me dictate my blog posts soon or else I will resort to drawing them. Pictures are supposed to speak a thousand words anyway… aren’t they?

8. Aspirations 3 – Yesterday I got up at 6:40 A.M. to start training to run the Boston Marathon in 2010. This morning, I dragged my sore aching body yelling and screaming halfway through the routine before it collapsed in a dead heap on the muddy tracks. And for what for?

9. I love to talk about myself… don’t we all, but being so not talkative at all has it’s disadvantages… hence why, given this opportunity, I could go on and on and on, writing about myself, but I’m afraid that if I do, you will begin to see through the bullshit n all. Mhmmm... maybe that's why I don't talk much.

10. I never realized before that ten was such a huge number. I feel like I have been typing forever.

Oh! I knew there was a string attached to the darn award:)

1.You must brag about the award - Check
2.You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger - Check
3.You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

4.Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.

5.List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

Loco - Whenever u get back

Shiko - Welcome back

Maua - I miss your smile. Where u at?

Nikolas - Think u can get off of tweeter long enough.

d® - Dude... just some Kavau love

Gream - U can consider this an electronic mugging.

Our Kid - Wewe ni wetu... ama?

Mo - Something to mull on as u sip on your coffee.

Joy - You might actually enjoy doing this.

ABE - AnyBody Else if u should feel so inclined.

Eureka.... Anaa light bulb moment

This ruminating business sure is paying off. On the 9^th day it has occurred to me that I actually have an eating disorder….. I know, I know… whoever heard of an African with an eating disorder. But well… the symptoms are quite distinct, I think, and indicative of this condition which my limited medical vocabulary has led me to resort to layman’s terms – short term memory loss. Presented with food, free of course, I will forget that I just recently ate and gorge my face… and that too is soon forgotten God forbid there be a third helping of free food. I will also, on occasion, forget that I have not eaten and not bother to. Very enlightening these light bulb moments. On the tenth day, perhaps, I’ll rest.

Just ruminating....

.... on life and it's uncanny ability to remind us in some not so subtle ways that we are not as in control as we would like to think we are. So here I am seated at my desk shuffling papers back n forth from one part of it to the other wondering why the heck life seems to be so sucky at this particular moment.

My girl, God bless her sweet soul, is miles away; my local clandes, for lack of a better word, have shunned me ever since word leaked out that I was now seeing someone regularly.... (aside)..the very same clandes that didn't mind hooking up even when they knew of my other liaisons so to speak....now how two faced is that? Anyway, so no action for weeks on end and what with my right hand incapacitated by carpal tunnel, things, to say the least, are not looking up.

But, as they say, every cloud has it’s silver lining; and, not seeing any other, I will take it that this chance to ruminate and the single light bulb moment - that came about eight or so days into the rumination,when I finally figured out that I really don’t like being in a relationship, as the silver lining my cloud. Actually, now that I think of it, it does seem apparent, looking at my relationship history or the lack thereof, that I have self sabotaged just about every chance I’ve had at a lasting relationship. And this goes for more than just my romantic relationships…. Jobs, business, friendships, etc etc.

On a brighter note, last week I finally decided to check out Dexter on Showtime on Demand. I ended up watching five episodes before I finally had to tear myself away after I realized I was seeing more and more of myself in the main character. Now, you are prolly wondering how identifying with a serial killer qualifies as a brighter note esp when that is actually supposed to be his (Dexter’s) dark side.

I know..... I don’t know either. I think it has to do with the fact that I finally realized that even while I am and have always felt alone in my world, and even though nobody really understands me, I am not really alone coz apparently there are many other lonesome souls out there living in their own little misunderstood worlds and every now and then someone goes out and writes their story and Showtime decides to make a series based on that book. I should one day be so lucky……

Dreadlocs vs Boob job

A somber, or should I say sobering, moment infront of my mirror this morning led to the realization that I cannot, with a good conscience, continue to put off that make-over job I've been procrastinating on these past few years.

Due to that long-standing absolute law of economics otherwise AKA Opportunity Cost, I have to choose between doing up my hair and toning up my body. Both should,hopefully, have the same desired effect of giving my personality a much needed boost of character and who knows maybe even the much sought after side-effect of attracting and holding the attention of the opposite sex.

Now, recession or no recession, this make-over is way overdue and cannot be put off any longer... and being the patriot (sic) that I am, I have to take O's lead and inject some cash into our ailing economy and hope... even should his unprecedented spending spree not lead to the recovery we are all crossing our fingers for, that posterity will remember the intent of my contribution and not judge me too harshly.

So... the costs from a not too analytical point of view and not bothering with updating the figures from years ago when I last attempted the same make-over on a much younger body.

Dreads
Twisting - $60.00
1 follow ups @ $40.00 each - $40.00
Bi-weekly touch -up @ $25.00 each - $600.00
Cleaning & Conditioning supplies $9:00 per month - $108.00

Total yearly cost $808.00

Gym
Sign up fees - $79.00
Uniform plus $100.00 running shoes - $170.00
monthly chrgs @ $39.99 - $479.88
Yearly renewal - $79.00

Total yearly cost $807.88

Mhmmm! Tough choice to make... and now that I see what it's gonna cost me, perhaps I should just let those with the money do the economy revival injection thing... After all, it's the thought that counts.. right?

Besides, I'm an artist... no? No one should care how I look as long as I keep pretending to write... right?