Inspired but without direction....

'A morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness...' I couldn't have said it better so thanks Hank Moody (Californication) for those bytes of wisdom. Actually, it would never have occured to me to say something like that. I wouldn't know about morning awkwardness, having majored in lonely nights for the most part of my life. But then again, who wants to admit on his blog that he's once woken up with a 'broner' - another Hank coinage (I think) for an 'unintentional male inspired boner'. Not me for sure, so don't expect any talk of morning awkwardness on this here blog.

So, I was crawling through the KBW aggregator the other morning.... my only access nowadays to all y'all's blog posting nowadays, when I ran across 'Tamaku's List of blessings.... and, I know I don't get to give enuff props for all the shit y'all write in your blogs.... this cat - gay as he is, is quite funny. And no, not in the broner inspiring kind of way. I am protected from self incrimination... aren't I.

Anyway, Tamaku's list, while not necessarily rib cracking served to inspire me to make a list of my own - but I am having trouble deciding what kind of list to make. I would make one of blessings like he did but that wouldn’t be too original now would it. I already made a Christmas list and I can’t quite think of any other interesting list that I could stand writing.. Can you?

I'm Hurting Inside

I'm Hurting Inside

When I was just a little child,

Happiness was there awhile.

Then from me, yeah, it slipped one day.

Happiness, come back, I say.

'Cause if you don't come, I've got to go lookin'

for happiness.

Well, if you don't come, I've got to go lookin',

Lord, for happiness, happiness.

- Bob Marley

A crappy post

September of 09 will go down into the annals of blogging history as the month that this blog almost went without a single posting... almost. But not quite. I could have also used the following line as the intro - 'I am back... this time not by, or to be depressingly candid - despite the conspicuous lack of, public demand....' but I did not.

No... this is not what you think it is. Self-pity, while obviously being a large part of my make up, is not what drives the publishing of this blog. No, I write on whims, and publish only when I have the courage or, as some might be tempted to call it, the audacity to think that what I wrote might provide y'all with an interesting read. The only difference this time is that, as I have tried to hint at by the title, I don't quite give a crap.

See, it's not, as I may have alluded to somebody earlier, that I have been lacking blogging inspiration or the mojo as some of you are fond of calling it; no the inspiration has been there, only this time it's been largely negative as opposed to the waxing positivity y'all have grown to expect. Forgive my vanity... a man can wish can't he? I do like to think of myself as an artist after all... but what is an artist without an audience? Anyway take this one for instance.

So there I was going through my day yesterday, when an urgent call of nature came in....

Irritated, I take the call and I'm further dismayed that it is a number two call. I glance at my clock to see if I have time to take it.... I didn't but I didn't really have the choice of postponing it anyway, hence the 'urgent' before call, right? I had to make the time. So excusing myself from my busyness, I find my way to our remodelled crapper.

So there I am, feeling all warm and invited a la the new warm and inviting ambiance that is the result of the remodelling, when a hissing noise above reminds me that I shouldn't quite get too comfortable. And as if the noise wasn't enough, a pungent gas suddenly envelopes me and in no uncertain terms lets me know that I have not only wasted the last five minutes not doing my work, but that also the waste that I have been getting rid off has resulted in the polluting of the air.

O.K.... so why should I give a crap about that? I ask myself. And while I'm at it, I decide to ask myself twenty other questions.... like what's with all the automation of this crapping business?

Has anyone noticed that they are taking away all the things that mattered away from the crapping experience... I mean, does it not piss you off that you can't even flush the darn shitter anymore? I know it does me. I mean I reach back for my mid-crapping flush but the handy lever that we used to flush with is nowhere to be found. No sweat, might as well count that as my contribution to a greener earth.... Then, as I shift around to efficiently and hopefully effectively, use the toilet paper, the auto-flusher senses my movement and flushes. I stand up and it flushes again... I walk out the door and the trigger happy thing goes off again as if to mock me.

I suppress the expletive that is threatening to explode from my mouth, mindful of the fact that anyone walking in on me cursing out the shitter might get spooked, and walk to the fancy new faucet ready for some hot hand sanitizing action but alas! no handles here either. Instead a stupid sign directs me to place my hands under the spout but the water that spews from it can not even be classified as luke-warm: Not anymore than the foam that comes from the automatic soap dispenser be called soap.

Disgusted after an un-thorough hand washing, I turn, now fully resigned to my powerless fate, and insert my wet hands into the hand drier and wait for it to do this apparently mundane task. It starts to enthusiastically attempt to blow the wetness off of my wrists. It is only after I have angrily wiped my hands off of my pants and I'm pulling the door open that I notice the directions etched on the fastest most sanitary drier in the market that say I should move my hands in an up and down motion for it to be effective.

Aaargh! I walk out feeling shittier than I did before walking in. I tell you, this would never have happened in the good old days before the automation. On the other hand, that means that this post would never have happened... and God forbid but September 09 would have gone down as the month this blog went postless. No Shit!

Za Wikendi? A two part trilology (sic)

A Concrete Jungle

No sun will shine in my day today.
The high yellow moon
won't come out to play
Darkness has covered my light,
And has changed my day into night
Now where is this love to be found,
won't someone tell me?
'Cause life, sweet life,
must be somewhere to be found, yeah
Instead of a concrete jungle
where the livin' is hardest
Concrete jungle, oh man,
you've got to do your best, yeah.

Bob Marley

So this past weekend would have gone by... well it did go by.. as just another event-less weekend but for two events; one that did happen and another that... well, just didn't quite happen.

Event one!

So, my uncle, having gotten better plans for himself and his better half, decided to postpone, indefinitely, my debut into the golfing world that was supposed to happen this past Saturday. So, after I'd finally picked my disappointed self off of the floor and wiped the tears of my face, I decided to... ummmm ....try and salvage the rest of the weekend by joining some buddies at the park.

So I get there and do the rounds... shaking hands here, hi-fiving there and all the while feeling the effects of that glass of 'Long Island Iced Tea' as it courses through that intricate network of veins and arteries that feeds my body. Apparently, for those who know about interactions... med professionals and all.... alcohol and high temps and humid conditions interact... and not in the best of ways.

So anyway, there I am... interacting with my fellow Kenyans, and as I go down the line of outstretched hands, shaking, hugging and pecking indiscriminately, I happen to hug a bust that is somewhat familiar. I take a step back and practically jump out of my skin when I recognize that the cheek I was just about to kiss belonged to none other than Leah's mum. Imagine that..... lol!

So I summon my wits... which are by then quite inebriated, and attempt what couldn't possibly pass for small talk.

KK: 'hic! Errr uhoro waku Mama Leah! hic!'

ML: Oh! Hi Kei... So good to see you... where have you been... blah blah blah...

She tells me they are all doing fine and, in-fact, Baba Leah had just come back from Zamunda and had asked her about me.

Whoa! Now, under normal circumstances, that statement right there would set off a million red flags and be cause enough for orange alerts to be declared.... but these circumstances were anything but. Somehow, I manage to last through the small talk... and smiling gratuitously, move on down the line of eager fans.

Peck here, "hi there"...
kiss, huggies... "uhoro? how have you been?"
Shakey shake "oh nice to meet you..."
"Kei, Kei Kei..." That with a Bondish wink
"nope, no autographs today." Haughtily with an upturned nose

Finally, fairly exhausted after shaking the last hand, I turn to where I imagine the drinks should be and run right smack into Baba Leah. I suppress a groan and try to match his enthusiasm as I return his greetings.

"Sema mbuyu, story za masiku" or the Kikuyu translation of same.

He goes on to repeat... I could almost swear it was verbatim, but then I wasn't quite myself and may have misheard.... what Mama Leah had told me before; except that when it came to the part of him asking about me, he pulls me towards her and asks her to confirm that yes, he had been asking about me.

Now, after hearing it the third time, my highly sensitized defense system scrambles to get the red flags up and the brain struggles to come up with a coherent response to the... ummmm ...allegation. We most certainly do not want a repeat of the Iraq debacle here so this calls for due diligence.... no!

But alas! no rash response is needed as this dictator is not afraid to reveal why he had been asking about me.

"You know Kei..." He starts in that patronizing drawl that is so Kikuyu.... designed, I think, to let you know that what you are about to hear you aren't supposed to know.

"You know it is quite refreshing to see a young man like you with a good head on his shoulders"

I don't quite burst out in laughter but only because I shake the said head as if to verify its goodness even as he goes on to shower me with praises.

"So many of our young men get lost when they come here," He goes on to say, throwing a disparaging eye towards a rowdy group of guys that I was just thinking of joining.

"But not you. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

'Well... actually I wouldn't be here if it weren't for my Uncle flaking out on me' I'm thinking to myself but dang...

"You know, I wish my daughters would end up with a stand up guy like you..."

"What!" I manage to say through my embarrassment.

"I thought you had an eye for Leah... what happened?" He chides.

I try to say something intelligible but my mouth does not cooperate...

"Anyway... you are too late now," He goes on to drop a verbal weapon of mass destruction on my ass..

"Somebody beat you to it..."

"Yep," He reaffirms as if he's read the disbelief in my eyes, "they are coming for the official courting business this coming week."

I was speechless before, I am dumbfounded now...

I mean.... WTF!

So I stand there for another minute or so, embarrassed, smiling like a fool as he goes on... telling me not to worry, the other daughter is still available.... blah! blah! blah! And the first chance I get I am so gone. I am out there gulping down shots of Captain Morgan with that very group that I, supposedly, different from.

So there, you have it.... Celibacy my ass. Ms. Leah may be voluntarily celibate... but I sincerely doubt that pure enjoyment is the reason for it. My thoughts are that she has to prevent potential trauma to the goods before the eventual owner has put down a down-payment on them. Either that or she's afraid if he turns out to be a lousy lay, her recent memories might mess her up. Both moot points but.....

What do you think?

About the second event... well, it didn't really happen so it's really not an event. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. For now, let me placate my boss by getting some work done:)

Celibacy is overrated.....

I'm jus saying.

Y'all remember Leah... of the crossroads fame? Yes? No?

Well... anyway... a chance meeting after what could only amount to a very long time led to a night of painting the town red.... and getting wasted in the name of catching up. Turns out she ditched the boyfriend of many years and is now enjoying being a single lady.... and, apparently, the best thing about her new status is the celibacy part.....

Mhmmmh! Is all I am gonna say to that.

Thankfully, though, her couch must have been made in heaven... Or perhaps I was so drunk I could have slept on the floor and enjoyed it. LOL!

Anyway... Part Deux... of the Racheal story is up.

Santadearest@?.? :All I want for Christmas

PS… Due to technical ignorance…. My assuming that the Nokia peeps didn’t know what the hell they were talking about when they reiterated to back up my memory and contacts and such before updating the firmware of my E71 can only be characterized as such…. I no longer have Santa’s contact information. If you happen to (have it), please, kindly forward this email to him. It contains my Christmas list which I have gone to great pains to compile. It would be a shame if he should fail to get it in time…..

So dear Santa,

I hope you don’t find it presumptive of me calling you 'dear' when you and I have yet to meet. Heck, I didn’t even know you existed until I came to this here land of milk n honiez… and even then, I only heard of you through tales told to me on the radio and twice or so, I saw your ugly face on T.V. To be honest, I’d have gone on to discard your myth amongst the pile of useless info I retain at the back of my mind but you wouldn’t have none of that. You surprised me last Christmas by leaving me a rather desirable gift…. albeit at the wrong address.

Yes… that was very kind of you and very clever too now that I think of it. For a moment… six months or so… I was so pre-occupied with it (the gift), I didn’t realize how self serving that act was for you. I mean, now I’ll never forget you… will I? Only one problem though…. while that was a rather thoughtful gift for sure… I wish, in retrospect, you hadn’t tried so hard. In fact, I decided to save you the trouble and make you a list… see below… And what’s more, you don’t even have to choose, just get me everything on the darn list. I even included hyperlinks to picture

Oh! And next time, please, check my address beforehand. Due to my fugitive status, I am not able to stay in one place indefinitely…. But I always leave clues… forwarding addresses… footprints… tell-tale smoke signals…etcetera

Here goes.... in no particular order

1. Numark NS7

2. Coffin … for the NS7 not for me…lol

3. Computer Desk

4. Powered Speakers

5. Laptop Docking Station

6. 24” LCD Monitor

7. Leather swivel chair

8. 06 Audi S4

And in case you are wondering if I am leaving all my dreams to you to fulfill…. No, just the easy stuff. Getting the listed items should be easy… keeping and maintaining them is the hard part… and using them is even harder. It takes talent, time and patience… apart from the S4…. That one just needs gas and an open highway… oh.. and a sharp eye for the cops. Yeah… Lil Weezy was lying with that Mrs. Officer shit… I’ve found that you are better off paying a stripper to dress as a cop than trying to sing that to a real one.

Come to think of it, perhaps, I should add that to my list. Hmmmh! Can you get your hands on a sexy cop uniform? Or better yet, how about you just get the stripper… I'll work on getting the uniform.

Anyway... that there is my list.... and I do pray that you get it on time.

There's a thin line between love and hate.....

And the person who drew it did not use permanent ink.... Kei :)

"We'll have to work on getting you in touch with your emotions.." was a line that my ex used on me a lot. She did eventually succeed although probably not in the way she had envisioned as I finally got in touch with the... "I can't stand this nagging B!#*h" emotion and the "I swear if she says that one more time I'ma...." one.

Mostly due to, I think, my personality, I don't express myself much.... other than on this blog that is. I do do that... right?

Anyway, I have recently come to learn, thanks to the indirect efforts of Mo and Crys, that I can blame a lot of my quirks on my INFP personality. Like the fact that most people think I am easy going and able to get along with just about anybody... which is quite true for the most part. Ok... maybe not those of you who read my blog... I'm aware that mostly it's my arrogant self that sells itself here. I am talking about those people with whom I interact one on one on a day to day basis. What those people don't realize, is that I am so in control of my outward emotions that I will instinctively portray the emotions I want them to see.

So I come off as this polite, patient... nice, young man with a great personality and a kind word for everybody. If you ask most people about me, they'll tell you what a nice person I am. Incidentally, I really loathe that word..... nice. Don't ever call me nice or else I'll loose whatever respect I have for you. In the real sense, though, I am all of that... polite, patient, inconceivably tolerant and, perhaps, even humble, due mostly to my mother's no nonsense upbringing, but I am a lot of other things too. Most of which I can not dare to print in case a future employer chances upon my blog... but suffice it to say that if you really knew me, you'd know that I am not a 'nice' person.

Yeah... you are probably thinking that that is being rather double-faced.... Well..... blame it on the ah ah ah ahhh al alco... nah, blame it on the person who came up with those stupid personality profiles. LOL!

So anyway, what was it I was going to blog about.... Yeah, love and hate... right. Well, a friend of mine is pregnant and soon looking to get married. I was thinking about her the other day and it occurred to me that, though I really liked her a lot, I literally cannot stand her . Is that even possible?

We met last year... towards the end of winter, and we hang a total of five times between then and the end of summer. There was undeniably some... actually, a lot of chemistry between us, but I ended up sabotaging, by design, our budding relationship. There is something about her attention seeking personality that really rubs me off the wrong way, and yet, she has this childlike disposition that is so adorable...

Anyway, I'd go on and on... and give you the dirt on how that relationship went burst, but that would be too boring. I did however try to characterize her as best as I could in my nanowrimo entry last year. Well, I never quite completed it.... Yes, Suga, Crys, I know...... I am working on finishing it... I promise.

Here are the pertinent excerpts.... Enjoy.