vanity hits the ground laughing

It has been over 3 yrs since I last fell. Today my butt connected the pavement as I slipped on ice. It was a glorious moment. I noticed how blue the sky was as I lay on the ground laughing. It felt as if a weight had been lifted of my back and any pretences I had were thoroughly washed away by the frozen waters. It has been a while and seeing as my day began with me being highly tense, this was God's swift kick in the nether region telling me to lighten up. I did.

Then I went for dinner at some over priced restaurant ( hey, free food) and gave my car to valet. Not realising it would cost me $10 to park my not so fancy Ford Aspire that has no front bumper, no a/c, no power locks but has great gas mileage. I was shocked when I was asked to dish out the coins I had collected from selling one of my books. I noted that it was cold to the valet guy. I asked if they got heaters or something to keep them warm. He said "Uh, uh, I've got my car over here," and quickly pointed to a silver BMW.

My friend tells me he was probably lying about the car being his. I would love to think that.

But I think this is a classic case of God's sense of humour. I don't think he is kidding about this joke.

Goodnight God.

Saturday night

How much of yourself would you give to a stranger before you stop because you are compromising yourself?

Case: A man walks up to you on the street. He tells you that he is homeless even though he just looks haggard but not visibly poor, he asks you for money. You have $4 in your pocket and you have a sandwich in one hand. You wanted a soda to go with your sandwich. You won't be getting any more money for another couple of days. You know however that you will be fine as long as no unexpected costs arise. Do you give him anything? If you do, how much do you give him?

Does it change things if it is a woman? What if it is a child? Does it hurt to give?

Saturday morning

What does it mean to be a parent?

Many of us imagine having children so that we can continue our family blood. But what duty do the children have to us? I know of a couple of kids who speak their mind, they can be hurtful but they speak their mind. What does this reflect on their parents? Have their parents failed in teaching their kids to be mindful of peoples' feelings or have they been successful in teaching their children to be honest?

Kids are born. They are just born. They owe nothing to their parents. Do their parents owe them nothing in return? Or is this the ultimate definition of love in that there is no exchange of duty: a good for a similar good.

my fingers are purple

It is cold like something else outside.

It has been a while since I stopped before a full length mirror and really looked. Only it wasn't in the privacy of my room but rather in the middle of a store that was selling mirrors. AND I could swear that the mirror was a slimming mirror. My butt is bigger than that.

I hope.

While talking to a friend of mine...2 hrs into the conversation...he asked me what I prefer. Time or money. Would I rather live a long poor life or a short filthy rich existence? I think if I lived a long poor life, I'd probably be looking for ways to get rich. But if I got rich and was going to die soon, I'd spend my money trying to prolong my life.

What do you prefer?

don't smile at strangers

Apparently I lead men on. No, seriously. I'm too friendly and that is why men think I am interested. Attention is a drug.
Sadly I love people so much, that it is hard to be inattentive.
How do you tell a guy you are not interested without hurting his feelings?
I am not the type to beat around the bush, EXCEPT when it comes to saying "I'm not interested." I know it is worse when the guy thinks I am and I "lead him on" but how, oh how do you say it without being mean?
And even when you do say it, you get the lie, "Neither am I." "Oh I know what you mean." "I am not looking for anything romantic either." but days later, he is bring you roses and putting you on a pedestal when you already said you were not interested in the pedestal. Help!
Attention is a drug.

moulin rouge and bourne supremacy

Two movies later, some Farmers Choice sausages (yes a rela managed to sneak them in) and a fight later, I remembered I had a blog. My roomate and I are snowed in, could not go to work. Painted my toe nails and watched them dry.

"The greatest thing you'll ever know, is just to love and to be loved in return." Great but how selfish it is. The ideal is to fall in love and have it returned but what grows when you are still with the person, not in love, but love the person. Is that possible? To love someone but not be in love with them, when you started off by being "in love" with them?

Would you so freely love someone if you knew that you would love them and they would never return it? Would that be love?

the horror that is me

So spotting a pimple on my chin, a bloated stomach, hot flashes, nausea and the random emotional outbursts, I recognise the signs that many women know all too well.

It is snowing outside. I don't like it much. It is pretty but it is cold and slippery and makes me want to stay in bed. I like the sun. I thrive on the sun. Spent last night sharing racist jokes among my friends with a saddistic pleasure from their very apparent discomfort. I couldn't help it. I didn't want to help it.

Woke up with a nosebleed. Haven't had that in a while and I blame it on the weather.

Also realised how flittery the heart it is when it comes to love. Much like the description I gave about snow. Cold, slippery and makes you want to stay in bed.

The horror that is me.

later stage of life, deeper spirituality

I have a crude need for affirmation that I have people who are reading this. I need to write this so that I may feel the fool that I am when it comes to vanity.

Growing old is thought of as a sad period, for some, when they will be deserted by family, taken to nursing homes and widowed...left to face the cold, dimming world by themselves.

Old age is a period for spirituality. I think it is significant in providing the silence that preceeds death. This for me is the reason for the wisdom that accompanies the individual who does not fight the inevitable. Life before old age is about service to the community. Life in old age is a time to step back and let the community serve you. If you did your duty well, the community will serve you justly. I want to grow old. I desire the freedom from the strange responsibility to the faceless many who I brush against as I go about daily life.

Thesis #3: There is infinite beauty in the silence that awaits the death that is not sought but the death that is accepted and embraced.

Ati Kenyan?

While on my wayward trips through blog world I came across my favorite blog mithlond.blogspot.com and clicked on among others a link talking about a book on the Mau Mau. I am nervous about this vague aspect of my history and rather embarrassed that I know alot more about the 1st World War than I do about this period of time that marked me "Kenyan" and not a squatter of Kenia, Passbook number XXXXXX.

So we go through high school. Educated about KANU, KADU etc, educated about Vasco Da Gamma, and a sprinkling of Bildad Kaggia. Nothing about Dedan, nothing about the Luos who worked with the Mau Mau and not much about the state of emergency.

Yet I say I am Kenyan.

My school library has more books about that Mau Mau than I knew existed. Shame. Shame on me.

bee marley

Is this love...just read up on the man who was known for his music and love of women. Bob Marley the welder. Bringing me back to my topic of unfaithfulness. These women knew that they were not the only ones but the man was so potent they could not resist him. What did he tell them? Was it his money? His fame? His virility? His mind? What? Why did Rita stay with him, collecting his children from other unions?

Is this a case of fools in love? Famous quote I will misquote "Only women, ostriches and monkeys are happy to be made foolish by love..." You get the gist of it. I would like to do that. Have sex without the baggage. None to take in, none to take out. Bang, bang, you're out. (by the way I would not agree to be called a prostitute, its derogatory ofcourse). I'd like to have the simple pleasure of "just sex." Sadly it is not womanly. Drat!

pinstripes and apron strings

As I stand before the mirror looking at an image of a woman so defeminised by a black pinstripe suit, a familiar conversation came to mind.

I want to be successful. I like many women, are working towards equality in the workforce. I want to be one of the execs, the decision makers. I want to pound my fist on the oak meeting table and demand that changes be made. The epitome of power in the business world. That, a leather chair and a corner office with a view of the city below.

As I stared at my masculinity in the mirror, I began to doubt. What about children? What about picking them up from their first day of school, helping with homework and as "silly" as it may sound what about baking apple pie and frying mandazi for tea-time?

The baby dilemma.

Which do I value more? It will have to be one or the other. If I choose the former, will my husband agree to be a house-husband, because I definately want our children to come home to one parent? Ladies would you marry a man who wants to stay home and cook and clean and do all the "motherly" duties, leaving you to be the breadwinner?

Guys would you agree you be the mommy?

rasta pasta

I went to a vegan cafe today, not that I am planning to switch or anything (I love mbuzi choma), but just to try something new. It was nice. I could have done with a little beef stew on my rice...but...

I'm feeling abit lazy this evening.

It's a skin condition

I am glad that some people do not worry about being politically incorrect. Where are all the bra-burning feminists now? I think that in men's soccer, the players should wear those black see through net vests, and shiny leopard skin thongs. Ref: copy and paste the following

http://www.caaws.ca/Whats_New/2004/jan/soccer_16.htm

He is the head of a large organisation. Kudos for being honestly masculine but boo for being a neaderthal about the issue.

As I was having a converstion at work with one of my co-workers and a guest, I was asked if I had seen a particular guest. I used all the politically correct adjectives: short, built, etc. Finally out of frustration I asked if he was Black. My co-worker's face froze and so did the guest's. She mumbled that there are many African American people around. People please! If the only way that I can narrow a person down is by their race then so be it. Since when was a biological charateristic (black skin) a curse word!

dirty old men

Old man just made a move on me. Told me he would take me home to his wife. That we can share his bed.
Talking about weird, I watched an interesting movie last night, not that I would add it to my movie collection, but it was an evening well wasted: "Kumar and Harold go to Whitecastle." Anyone watched it?

Thesis#2 Take the biggest piece of the pie, you never know when it will come around again.

Some one pointed out that I am a rather blunt person. I feel offended.

tragedy

Please keep track of the comments, if you haven't. There are some brilliant minds out there.

If you have not watched the movie "Quills" you need to. Great tragedy full of many truths. We must know all vice before we can value virtue. Brilliant.
How kenyanized I am. Driving down a side road with my sister when we came to a road that was closed and barricaded. We turned the car around my sister explaining that the road led to a major highway a few years back. What explanation jumps into my head? "They closed the road because the people in that estate have been thugged too many times. They wanted to reduce the flow of traffic, to make sure they know who's car is driving down the road." But wait...let me remind you that I am in the US. They don't close roads over thuggery! Only in Kenya! Only in Kenya!
I love these bits of "habitude" that creep into my open mind when I least expect it. Hence mid - sentence monster.

long foggy drive home

Another day slogging at the machinery called work.
Thank you thank you to the many who have visited the site and made time to say something.
Thesis #1: We need not understand to believe. We need to believe to understand.

It occured to me as I munched away at cheerios that I want to do so much with my life that I am straining myself doing everything. Yet, I love it all. Along the same lines I came across a rather disfigured definition of cheating in relationships. Does it remain so when the person is open about their many affairs? What do you call it when there is no guilt on the part of the perpetrator? Playing has the connotation of deceipt. What do you call someone who is in a realationship and is open to their partners about their affairs?

Those Catholics again

I have nothing against them. I just have something against those who follow it religiously. In this case it is those who don't stop to question. How else do we come up with answers? Faith is not about blindness. It comes with an understanding for true belief. Unproven but understood. How does one understand without questioning? Hmmm.
Organised religion. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
It occured to me that I have not been to church in a while. I think it has something to do with a particular vow I read in this church's "handbook." That is a story for another time. I do remember that there is a strange euphoria that I miss about church. This constant overwhelming love for thy neighbours. Sadly followed by the realisation that this love is only for Sundays. I like the singing though. And the attempt at religion. "A" for effort. But who am I to talk. I have no religion. Let me point out that I am glad that atleast there is some guidance out there about resolving my insignificance. When was the last time you went to church? What were you there for?
P.S
I welcome my first ever visitors. Kui and Mshairi. Karibu.

gray day light thought

I went to a strip club. A women's strip club. At first I expected to be squirmish...I am a woman myself. I actually realised that I became immune to it. In a heated discussion with the lady friend I was with, I said that were I to go into the sex trade, this is what I would do. I'd be a dancer. No sex is involved and the men are not even allowed to touch you! BUT along with it came the question of Kenyan morals. In Kenya to work in such a place is evil. The only thing stopping me is what my dear cucu would think of me. Is this a case of tradition imposing its ways on the business minded woman or is it fundamentally wrong?

BACKOFF!!!

I just came from my first class in women's self defense. Screaming and ripping I felt very "simple" I think my pleasure is strangely from the idea behind it. I have to admit that it is great that women learn how to defend themselves but wouldn't it be more effective to educate the men (usually the attackers)? Idealism I know, but it is a sad world when a woman has to resort to this to feel safe. Here is the funny thing, the world will be worse when we bear the fruits of our loins. They won't know how bad they have it until they have their own children. The circle of life.

werocamu

So I decided to find out what this stuff is about blogs. Read "I decided to be vain." I have no idea what I will talk about...oh oh a friend just asked me what I would do if I hit a $1M jackpot. Obvious answer...reinvest. No private islands, no limo rides, no Hummer (Oh God no!!). Actually I find those things ugly. Who wants to travel in a moving house. Comeon! Buy a camper! But a Land Rover County. That is the dream car. The sound that the engine makes! MMMHHH!!!