"But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
A couple of years back, facebook had this viral thing going where you wrote 25 things you thought people didn't know about you. I was an addict then (I'm unsuccessfully trying to kick the habit) so I sat in my room on campus and typed away some funny and non personal stories about shoes and books and poems and cars and other random things that everyone already knew. I remembered this yesterday while in church (I really should stop my mind from wondering in church. Suggestions anyone?) But hear is something very few people know.....
The above verse is what Is. 40:31 says. It is part of a tattoo I got eons ago.Right at the bottom infact. In the depth of my rock phase in campus, I went and got me a tattoo. I was right on the edge of turning gothic but my mother would have none of it and if you have met my mother, no one has a prayer against her so I settled for just a tattoo on my shoulder. The thing about tattoos is that people want them to mean something. It is this permanent mark on your body....it just has to mean something. Right? Wrong. So every time someone sees it they'll ask what it means and why you got it and blah!blah!blah! It is a great conversation starter......if you have a touching story to go with it. Unfortunately most of the people who have them got them because they have always wanted one. Period! and so did I! I had wanted one for as long as I could remember and the decision to get one took all of 3 minutes which included choosing a design and a body part to get it done.
So why Isaiah 40:31?
There's no touching moving story. I put it there because I needed God not to send me to hell for getting permanent ink on my body. My mother believes its a mortal sin that should send you straight to the hell fires. I needed God to see my side of the story. I wanted it not to be those verses everyone knows....Like I said conversation starter! so I chose something easy to remember and nice to quote.
But in the years that have followed since, the verse started taking up new meaning. It's on my back, I can't get it off. I think it made its way to my mind and eventually to my heart. Yesterday I wondered if I have the power left to carry it with me everywhere I go. This reminder of a faith I'm not too sure I have anymore. I have almost no faith in myself anymore, can I have faith in another being? Let alone one I cannot see or hear? Do I honestly have the ability to trust in this Lord fully?
I will soar with wings like eagles, I will run and not get weary, I will walk and not faint? They were nice words to say in Sunday school when we used to be given verses to memorise. But now when I need to believe, I find it hard. I am barely crawling without fainting, how does He expect me to run let alone fly? I have the hardest time putting God first in my affairs. It's even harder to think that He could get me out of where I am now and into the next level that I want to be. Sometimes it even feels like I'm back-tracking instead of moving forward. And I can assure you that I backtrack without getting weary. Moving forward is however a tad bit harder than expected.
Can I do this? Can I be true to the words that are embedded onto my back for life? Can I just let go and "wait" upon the Lord? Sometimes my ambitions and conscience get in the way of the plans He has for me. I over-think, I over-react. Almost like biting the bullet long before it leaves the gun. No doubt I want to soar and I definitely want to run -hopefully in the right direction- but often its hard to believe that I will get to where I want to be. Within the given time that I want to get there. Harder to believe that someone else will get me there.
I think its hard for me because most times I don't even know what I am doing or even which way I'm meant to be going. I am as spaced out as the Jetsons. Letting my life roll around in the wind. But yesterday as our pastor talked about having a prayerful existence, I realised that at some point I have to make a choice. Let God run my destiny and make me soar or try and do it by myself and wait for the crash landing (this me!me! story hasn't gone too great so far!)
Do I want to get it off my back?
I don't think so. It keeps me grounded in a way most things never have. Who would have thought!
Life is what happens when you're busy waiting for life to happen!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
You have to be kidding me!
I'm in the spirit of being continously tired. I call it spirit because it is the only possible way I can explain sleeping for 7 hours and still wake up feeling like the day should be ending instead of starting. So in an effort to fight impending fatigue, I have been filling in my time between barely doing work by catching up on my blog reading. The great thing about bloggers is that their writing is raw, truthful and unedited. An interesting study on human nature (if I was a psychologist!)
I read something that made me totally amused me by its retaredness:
It’s rather obvious that the male and female minds work in very different ways. Sometimes what may be as clear as day to one gender is complete Greek to the other. And most times it’s we dudes who come out the worse. Coz we’re simple creatures really, we say what we mean and we mean what we say (unless we’re lying to you). (Archer,2008)
Indulge me for a bit. Men are simple creature??? Are you kidding me. Just because a creature owns one pair of shoes doesn't make it simple. Men, believe it or not, are as complicated as women. In more ways than one.
I read a study once that said men tend to PMS every 45 days or so. Whether its scientific or not, is beyond me but being a true believer in useless scientific research, I started making small observations of my own. When a dude out of the blue and without warning stops talking to you and then starts up 4 days later....in the female world, we call it PMS. At least our hormone imbalance explains our mood swings...what could possibly explain a man's moodiness. You have but one hormone. How can it be imbalanced? Is there anything more complicated??
No doubt men and female minds don't work the same. But if you are allowed to wail like a hungry baby after "your team" loses a soccer match, a woman is allowed to wail like a professional mourner during a soap. Alejandro may not know my name but Nani has no idea that you exist either. We are both promoting worlds we'll never live in. A man will never be 6 ft 3' with abs of steel and amazing ball control and a woman will never be that model looking character with legs as long as poles and who wakes up with her make-up perfectly intact. But I guess we already knew that now, didn't we? So a man is not allowed to complain about a woman's choice of entertainment if a woman is not allowed to talk during a 2nd division game in some obscure part of the world.(Ati sijui my cuzo lives in Lancaster-shire,North Ireland.we have to watch this one baby!! Shenzitype kabisa)
"we say what we mean and we mean what we say (unless we’re lying to you)." Hahaha! I will even ROTFLMBAO on this one. Women Lie, Men lie, Men lie, Men lie........Ukweli, uwongo???If a man cannot find a solution he will lie. He will lie to get a woman into bed, he will lie to get away from her, he will lie to get his broke arse out of a date, he will lie if he wants to run off with the boys and misbehave. He will lie, he will lie, he will lie. Sometimes I think men should walk around with lie detectors, if only so that we know when they are telling the truth. In fact there should be a way you can detect their lies by them peeing in a cup in the evening just before you feed them.
"Some argue that no man ever buys a girl a drink without strings attached. Which is somewhat true. Unless the guy is your pal and you know for sure that he has no lateral ambitions, all men have an agenda behind buying you a drink." (Archer, 2010)
Now, here I have massive problems....mpaka its starting to scare me. You can't honestly say that a dude will walk into a club with the sole intention of chips-ing a chic. What kind of neanderthal *ish is that?? And once she's accepted, ati now she's a lose chic and you're packing her off on the first mat to town at 5.30 in the morning.With 50 bob no less. Granted, mamas are not meant to be that lose but you get what you asked for and as such you are not allowed to complain after-wards when you are picking up stalkers left, right and dead center. And when a mama accepts your kind and generous offer of drinks at the counter and then walks off, you don't get to curse at her retreating behind. You offered, she accepted. Period. You can't have t both ways. There was no underlying fine print for doing the nasties in the bush. It was one drink. Even you don't believe that a 450/= drink is worth a night with you. Seriously!!! What kind of simplistic logic is that? And trust me, being simplistic and being simple are 2 different things. Simplistic tends towards retard.
Men have no idea what women want...given the foul ups consistently being seen. The fact the women have general ideas what dudes want just means that we are much ore intelligent species. That doesn't make men any less complicated.
I read something that made me totally amused me by its retaredness:
It’s rather obvious that the male and female minds work in very different ways. Sometimes what may be as clear as day to one gender is complete Greek to the other. And most times it’s we dudes who come out the worse. Coz we’re simple creatures really, we say what we mean and we mean what we say (unless we’re lying to you). (Archer,2008)
Indulge me for a bit. Men are simple creature??? Are you kidding me. Just because a creature owns one pair of shoes doesn't make it simple. Men, believe it or not, are as complicated as women. In more ways than one.
I read a study once that said men tend to PMS every 45 days or so. Whether its scientific or not, is beyond me but being a true believer in useless scientific research, I started making small observations of my own. When a dude out of the blue and without warning stops talking to you and then starts up 4 days later....in the female world, we call it PMS. At least our hormone imbalance explains our mood swings...what could possibly explain a man's moodiness. You have but one hormone. How can it be imbalanced? Is there anything more complicated??
No doubt men and female minds don't work the same. But if you are allowed to wail like a hungry baby after "your team" loses a soccer match, a woman is allowed to wail like a professional mourner during a soap. Alejandro may not know my name but Nani has no idea that you exist either. We are both promoting worlds we'll never live in. A man will never be 6 ft 3' with abs of steel and amazing ball control and a woman will never be that model looking character with legs as long as poles and who wakes up with her make-up perfectly intact. But I guess we already knew that now, didn't we? So a man is not allowed to complain about a woman's choice of entertainment if a woman is not allowed to talk during a 2nd division game in some obscure part of the world.(Ati sijui my cuzo lives in Lancaster-shire,North Ireland.we have to watch this one baby!! Shenzitype kabisa)
"we say what we mean and we mean what we say (unless we’re lying to you)." Hahaha! I will even ROTFLMBAO on this one. Women Lie, Men lie, Men lie, Men lie........Ukweli, uwongo???If a man cannot find a solution he will lie. He will lie to get a woman into bed, he will lie to get away from her, he will lie to get his broke arse out of a date, he will lie if he wants to run off with the boys and misbehave. He will lie, he will lie, he will lie. Sometimes I think men should walk around with lie detectors, if only so that we know when they are telling the truth. In fact there should be a way you can detect their lies by them peeing in a cup in the evening just before you feed them.
"Some argue that no man ever buys a girl a drink without strings attached. Which is somewhat true. Unless the guy is your pal and you know for sure that he has no lateral ambitions, all men have an agenda behind buying you a drink." (Archer, 2010)
Now, here I have massive problems....mpaka its starting to scare me. You can't honestly say that a dude will walk into a club with the sole intention of chips-ing a chic. What kind of neanderthal *ish is that?? And once she's accepted, ati now she's a lose chic and you're packing her off on the first mat to town at 5.30 in the morning.With 50 bob no less. Granted, mamas are not meant to be that lose but you get what you asked for and as such you are not allowed to complain after-wards when you are picking up stalkers left, right and dead center. And when a mama accepts your kind and generous offer of drinks at the counter and then walks off, you don't get to curse at her retreating behind. You offered, she accepted. Period. You can't have t both ways. There was no underlying fine print for doing the nasties in the bush. It was one drink. Even you don't believe that a 450/= drink is worth a night with you. Seriously!!! What kind of simplistic logic is that? And trust me, being simplistic and being simple are 2 different things. Simplistic tends towards retard.
Men have no idea what women want...given the foul ups consistently being seen. The fact the women have general ideas what dudes want just means that we are much ore intelligent species. That doesn't make men any less complicated.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Nimechoka.....
So it came to be that on Saturday evening, I was invited for a house warming in South B by a former No.4 (please refer to previous post!) and his girlfriend. He had sung about his woman for so long I figured it is time to go meet this GORGEOUS SUPER WOMAN. And from all the photos he kept flushing from his wallet, she was quite the drop dead gorgeous woman. If she didn't already belong to my pal, I'd have a small girl crush on her. She was from Seychelles meaning she had this beautiful hair flowing all over the place and well, her body could form a whole new blog post. According to him, her cooking was worth dying for. I was soo glad our thing was eons ago because I was none of those were not qualities I naturally possess (Especially the long over flowing hair!) It would be sad for him to remember how lazy I was.
So off I went to the house warming. I was broke so no, I did not carry a potted plant or a bottle of Chardonnay or Pinot Noir or even a slab of meat. Nilijipeleka tu vile nilivyo.But I was a considerate guest though. I called ahead and stated my case and promised not to do it again. After a whole day wedding hoping and wobbling in heels in the mud, all I wanted to do was chill, have good conversation and eat meat. In my mind, when you hint towards a party, meat is usually a big component of my enjoyment. But lo and behold! one half of the host duo was not Kenyan so the must-have meat was a foreign concept. *Sigh....she who does not come bearing gifts does not get to complain. (Lesson No. 1)Always eat before the party.There were bitings though. Sausages and small pieces a bread with cheese and other things I had never seen before.
So in I go, dressed like I was going for war in Antarctica. I have an affinity for balconies. Mostly because they have the most air and least crowd so the jacket did come in handy. But it was a smoker's party of sorts so everyone in the whole party was hovering somewhere between the kitchen door and the railing lighting it up. Next time I get an invite, I'll make sure I find out how many smokers will roam the grounds (Lesson No. 2)Carry a change of Sweater. I got home smelling like BAT tobacco sorter.
If you have ever been to a couple's party, you really should be prepared for a lot of couples in the party. (Lesson No. 3). Every one came with a plus 1. Ok! not everyone. But the few who were there without their plus 1's had their insignificant others elsewhere so they could get with the lingo going on. There was a lot of baby talk, wedding talk, once-upon-a-time and do-you-remember-the-time stories. Hmmm...I had little to contribute so I covered up by standing very near the bitings and drinks...There was a lot of avocado and cheese happening. Naturally I inclined to the drinks to keep me busy. (Lesson No. 4) Such Inclinations are never to anyone's best interest.
Like all good parties everyone eventually became louder than the music. I think it was trance, I think it was soldier boy. I can't remember.Like any good friend who has found a good woman, my friend started getting really disturbed and agitated by the fact that I had not discovered the joys of relationship bliss. (Lesson No. 5) I knew, even in my foggy mind, it was time to leave before this depressing talk caused to make a stupid call. Just the same way I knew, I should have dragged one of my many friends to act as a buffer. My phone must have been feeling me mad that day cause it instantly started dying and beeping insistently at me. The more reason for me to go home. That didn't stop him from lecturing me for an hour. For an hour, he told me about the power of positive thinking, tricks of how to land a good man, he even told me to watch The Secret again (Clearly he believed the first time I watched,it didn't sink in!!He may have a point) I knew his heart was in the right place but my mind was in bed at home. I told myself to remember to be touched by his moving speech when I woke up.
I had been standing all night trying to avoid the smoking zone that had suddenly formed on my balcony. I was wearing heels so my feet were experiencing 54 kinds of pain. (Lesson No. 6). Always go back and change into flats before its too late. My traumatised feet really needed to go home. After the productive talk from my concerned friend, I tried severally to fight my way out. Eventually and with a proud stagger, I broke free. Home ward bound I was. I considered dropping in at everyone's house on the way if only just so that I don't have to make that long journey home. The house seemed to move further the more I attempted to get closer. Eventually I got close enough to do a sprint to the bed.
I dropped into bed just barely. i promised myself never ever again (Lesson No...I don't even know anymore!) Now how many times had I said that before. This time I was definitely never ever going to do it again.
So off I went to the house warming. I was broke so no, I did not carry a potted plant or a bottle of Chardonnay or Pinot Noir or even a slab of meat. Nilijipeleka tu vile nilivyo.But I was a considerate guest though. I called ahead and stated my case and promised not to do it again. After a whole day wedding hoping and wobbling in heels in the mud, all I wanted to do was chill, have good conversation and eat meat. In my mind, when you hint towards a party, meat is usually a big component of my enjoyment. But lo and behold! one half of the host duo was not Kenyan so the must-have meat was a foreign concept. *Sigh....she who does not come bearing gifts does not get to complain. (Lesson No. 1)Always eat before the party.There were bitings though. Sausages and small pieces a bread with cheese and other things I had never seen before.
So in I go, dressed like I was going for war in Antarctica. I have an affinity for balconies. Mostly because they have the most air and least crowd so the jacket did come in handy. But it was a smoker's party of sorts so everyone in the whole party was hovering somewhere between the kitchen door and the railing lighting it up. Next time I get an invite, I'll make sure I find out how many smokers will roam the grounds (Lesson No. 2)Carry a change of Sweater. I got home smelling like BAT tobacco sorter.
If you have ever been to a couple's party, you really should be prepared for a lot of couples in the party. (Lesson No. 3). Every one came with a plus 1. Ok! not everyone. But the few who were there without their plus 1's had their insignificant others elsewhere so they could get with the lingo going on. There was a lot of baby talk, wedding talk, once-upon-a-time and do-you-remember-the-time stories. Hmmm...I had little to contribute so I covered up by standing very near the bitings and drinks...There was a lot of avocado and cheese happening. Naturally I inclined to the drinks to keep me busy. (Lesson No. 4) Such Inclinations are never to anyone's best interest.
Like all good parties everyone eventually became louder than the music. I think it was trance, I think it was soldier boy. I can't remember.Like any good friend who has found a good woman, my friend started getting really disturbed and agitated by the fact that I had not discovered the joys of relationship bliss. (Lesson No. 5) I knew, even in my foggy mind, it was time to leave before this depressing talk caused to make a stupid call. Just the same way I knew, I should have dragged one of my many friends to act as a buffer. My phone must have been feeling me mad that day cause it instantly started dying and beeping insistently at me. The more reason for me to go home. That didn't stop him from lecturing me for an hour. For an hour, he told me about the power of positive thinking, tricks of how to land a good man, he even told me to watch The Secret again (Clearly he believed the first time I watched,it didn't sink in!!He may have a point) I knew his heart was in the right place but my mind was in bed at home. I told myself to remember to be touched by his moving speech when I woke up.
I had been standing all night trying to avoid the smoking zone that had suddenly formed on my balcony. I was wearing heels so my feet were experiencing 54 kinds of pain. (Lesson No. 6). Always go back and change into flats before its too late. My traumatised feet really needed to go home. After the productive talk from my concerned friend, I tried severally to fight my way out. Eventually and with a proud stagger, I broke free. Home ward bound I was. I considered dropping in at everyone's house on the way if only just so that I don't have to make that long journey home. The house seemed to move further the more I attempted to get closer. Eventually I got close enough to do a sprint to the bed.
I dropped into bed just barely. i promised myself never ever again (Lesson No...I don't even know anymore!) Now how many times had I said that before. This time I was definitely never ever going to do it again.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Numbers 1 through 4
I've been on a discovery mission over the past few months. Refer back the Who Am I? a couple of months back among many other confused and confusing blogs. Knowingly and unknowingly I have entered into new parts of my life and some I like, some I'm still to decide, some I down right despise.
Before I enter into this little truth about my life, let me give you a short background of where I'm coming from. I am the true and full daddy's girl. As a result, most of my emotional, physical and psychological support has been from men. As far as I can remember, I have always had 4 men in my life to bounce of my life on. My sounding boards so to speak. The first is my dad, probably my biggest advisor..the other 2 are my brothers (who we share and exchange business ideas, war stories, lies, drinks and car keys). The fourth is usually the tricky one. It's usually not quite the boyfriend. It's just a really close male person who I call so many times that his number automatically slides into speed dial. I have never been without my number 4. And I mean ever.
Number 4 was always the guy who held the emotional side of me. He was, for lack of a better term, a shoulder to cry on and my backbone. Almost two years back, my backbone kinda fell off. That is when I realised how un-independent I am. Being the fore front preacher on girl power and independence, this sort of took the breath out of my system. I was entering into a new phase of my life and so apparently was everyone else. i.e my numbers 1 through 4. My older brother was getting married and had a child on the way and a new job to haggle. My kid bro was happily discovering life as a campus student. And by discovering I mean lying in a happy stupor for days.(He has since grown out of it) And as for my number 4 well our "relationship" was going burst an not in the nice pat on the back, it was nice knowing you kind of way. (I put "relationship" in quotes with good reason). As for me, I was about to leave campus to the most confusing 6 months of my life. Life as I knew it was about to change. Miss Independent wasn't so independent any more.
It's usually good when things happen slowly and in some sort of moderation. That way you can plan your next move and have options lined up. This time though, everything happened suddenly. One moment, I had 4 strong reliable men to lean on, and the next, I was standing alone wishing the world would swallow me whole. I quickly realised I had never made a decent decision of my own. Everything I did before that moment had been passed through one number and the sieved through another and then I'd take the last reasonable solution given. That's how my version of independence worked.
When I jumped into my first job and misery ensued all round (bad bosses are everywhere. BEWARE!), I had the hardest time making a decision to move. I had never relied on myself this much before. It was terrible times. I couldn't call number 4 any more and I would rather eat tar than cry in front of my family members. So I sucked it in and charted my way forward. They never teach you these things in school. How to fight your own battles. How to win your own wars. But this was my battle and the only person on my corner to fight was me. My fight with this imbecile of a man who thought he could rule the planet one day (God help us all!) was on and I wasn't planning to go down easy. He insulted my intelligence one day and I decided it was time to go suffer elsewhere. My intelligence was all I had intact then, I was not going to have him muddy its good name.
In those 6 months, I turned into those girls I don't like. Those ones who beg and stalk and drink alot and drunk dial their exes. Those ones we hear about from our friends and think "What a loser!". I get embarrassed every time I think about it. But I was hurting and I hated going to work and I needed comfort. At that point, it made sense to get comfort from the one person who wouldn't give it to me. Only God knows why that would make any sense. Lucky for me, he's a decent man with good manners otherwise he could just have as easily crushed my depressing soul.
Eventually after many false starts, I did begin to recover and learn how to rely on myself and started to have more faith in more people other than my 4 pillars of strength. I moved jobs, I got happier and a tad bit more content with the life that I have.I never used to be content with anything. Every problem needed to be dissected, bisected, chewed, regurgitated and then put in plain sight for all to see. Usually "all" meant these 4 people.Including things that were not even problems to begin with! Now, problems I cant solve I shelf, those I can, I work through them slowly and privately. Unless they totally overwhelm me.
I haven't had a real number 4 in almost 2 years. In fact my speed dial now includes my family, my best friends (all shockingly female)and my banker (who happens to be the only number on my recent call list-yes, all 20 calls are from him!And yet I don't feel stalked)
Of course I don't deal with all my problems alone. I still take advice from my father very seriously and if a problem is too large for me to solve, my brothers are only a call or IM away. I have many more friends now than before. They form my shoulders and backbone. People I can lean on when sh*t hits the fan among other things and I am eternally grateful for their support even when I'm going through private, random stuff. (They also allow me to over-think my problems when need be!). Watu stand-up kabisa. and I am still some-what friends with 1 or 2 number 4's out there from years past. At least the ones who actually understood and tolerated my mildly insane behaviors including the one who got the bulk of the confusing transition. I should buy him a cactus or something.
I will admit that I sometimes fall into old habits. Some times I regret them but sometimes I just let them slide and hope no one notices. I don't anger as much, I don't over think as much. I don't write and rewrite and then edit and re-write my future as much. I have grown. Being left out alone emotionally has really aged me well. I don't think I'd be where I am if they hadn't all unknowingly walked away....from me! I can now go to church alone and not feel badly for my lonely state and I'm learning to enjoy eating meals on my own. I didn't know what I was missing until now. It's truly awesome. Someday, I'll get me a number 4 but thank the Lord every day that he'll have a more wholesome person to work with. (Really, put it on your prayer list. You have no idea what he would have gotten into before)
Before I enter into this little truth about my life, let me give you a short background of where I'm coming from. I am the true and full daddy's girl. As a result, most of my emotional, physical and psychological support has been from men. As far as I can remember, I have always had 4 men in my life to bounce of my life on. My sounding boards so to speak. The first is my dad, probably my biggest advisor..the other 2 are my brothers (who we share and exchange business ideas, war stories, lies, drinks and car keys). The fourth is usually the tricky one. It's usually not quite the boyfriend. It's just a really close male person who I call so many times that his number automatically slides into speed dial. I have never been without my number 4. And I mean ever.
Number 4 was always the guy who held the emotional side of me. He was, for lack of a better term, a shoulder to cry on and my backbone. Almost two years back, my backbone kinda fell off. That is when I realised how un-independent I am. Being the fore front preacher on girl power and independence, this sort of took the breath out of my system. I was entering into a new phase of my life and so apparently was everyone else. i.e my numbers 1 through 4. My older brother was getting married and had a child on the way and a new job to haggle. My kid bro was happily discovering life as a campus student. And by discovering I mean lying in a happy stupor for days.(He has since grown out of it) And as for my number 4 well our "relationship" was going burst an not in the nice pat on the back, it was nice knowing you kind of way. (I put "relationship" in quotes with good reason). As for me, I was about to leave campus to the most confusing 6 months of my life. Life as I knew it was about to change. Miss Independent wasn't so independent any more.
It's usually good when things happen slowly and in some sort of moderation. That way you can plan your next move and have options lined up. This time though, everything happened suddenly. One moment, I had 4 strong reliable men to lean on, and the next, I was standing alone wishing the world would swallow me whole. I quickly realised I had never made a decent decision of my own. Everything I did before that moment had been passed through one number and the sieved through another and then I'd take the last reasonable solution given. That's how my version of independence worked.
When I jumped into my first job and misery ensued all round (bad bosses are everywhere. BEWARE!), I had the hardest time making a decision to move. I had never relied on myself this much before. It was terrible times. I couldn't call number 4 any more and I would rather eat tar than cry in front of my family members. So I sucked it in and charted my way forward. They never teach you these things in school. How to fight your own battles. How to win your own wars. But this was my battle and the only person on my corner to fight was me. My fight with this imbecile of a man who thought he could rule the planet one day (God help us all!) was on and I wasn't planning to go down easy. He insulted my intelligence one day and I decided it was time to go suffer elsewhere. My intelligence was all I had intact then, I was not going to have him muddy its good name.
In those 6 months, I turned into those girls I don't like. Those ones who beg and stalk and drink alot and drunk dial their exes. Those ones we hear about from our friends and think "What a loser!". I get embarrassed every time I think about it. But I was hurting and I hated going to work and I needed comfort. At that point, it made sense to get comfort from the one person who wouldn't give it to me. Only God knows why that would make any sense. Lucky for me, he's a decent man with good manners otherwise he could just have as easily crushed my depressing soul.
Eventually after many false starts, I did begin to recover and learn how to rely on myself and started to have more faith in more people other than my 4 pillars of strength. I moved jobs, I got happier and a tad bit more content with the life that I have.I never used to be content with anything. Every problem needed to be dissected, bisected, chewed, regurgitated and then put in plain sight for all to see. Usually "all" meant these 4 people.Including things that were not even problems to begin with! Now, problems I cant solve I shelf, those I can, I work through them slowly and privately. Unless they totally overwhelm me.
I haven't had a real number 4 in almost 2 years. In fact my speed dial now includes my family, my best friends (all shockingly female)and my banker (who happens to be the only number on my recent call list-yes, all 20 calls are from him!And yet I don't feel stalked)
Of course I don't deal with all my problems alone. I still take advice from my father very seriously and if a problem is too large for me to solve, my brothers are only a call or IM away. I have many more friends now than before. They form my shoulders and backbone. People I can lean on when sh*t hits the fan among other things and I am eternally grateful for their support even when I'm going through private, random stuff. (They also allow me to over-think my problems when need be!). Watu stand-up kabisa. and I am still some-what friends with 1 or 2 number 4's out there from years past. At least the ones who actually understood and tolerated my mildly insane behaviors including the one who got the bulk of the confusing transition. I should buy him a cactus or something.
I will admit that I sometimes fall into old habits. Some times I regret them but sometimes I just let them slide and hope no one notices. I don't anger as much, I don't over think as much. I don't write and rewrite and then edit and re-write my future as much. I have grown. Being left out alone emotionally has really aged me well. I don't think I'd be where I am if they hadn't all unknowingly walked away....from me! I can now go to church alone and not feel badly for my lonely state and I'm learning to enjoy eating meals on my own. I didn't know what I was missing until now. It's truly awesome. Someday, I'll get me a number 4 but thank the Lord every day that he'll have a more wholesome person to work with. (Really, put it on your prayer list. You have no idea what he would have gotten into before)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My Ant
I had this ant doing the rounds on my desk this morning. Usually ants are the only creeping creatures I don't run away from. But this was no ordinary ant. It was huge. Like it had taken steroids and then hit the gym and finished off with a glass of raw eggs and disgusting protein shakes. I thought it would eventually notice I was disturbing its daily routine and bite me, and I'd eventually swell up like a cartoon and then never be able to write, or draw or shop again. So I did what any other sane person would do. I put my phone over it and crushed it. then just to make sure it was dead and gone, I hit it down with my shoe severally.
I have a strange fear for dead insects. I can't touch them. I walk around them for days until they start to blend with the furniture. Sometimes I give them names then I start talking to them and eventually we are so close I mourn when someone unwittingly gets rid of them. Good thing about dead insects is that they don't have that smell that dead rats have. So now, I have this curiously large insect in front of my keyboard watching me work with its critical large eye. Just chilling. Enjoying the view. Or so I hope.
Speaking of rats, I learnt yesterday that rats actually live in gardens. I had always assumed they live in houses like normal people. You know. Just chilling in ceilings and dusty corners and in perfectly curved holes like Jerry (Tom and Jerry). Imagine my shock when my mother said she was going to let a cat loose on our garden because the rats were uncontrollable. I quietly wondered why they weren't indoors.Especially in these season.
(Back to my ant). Maybe I should take a photo of this ant. It must have a family somewhere hoping its going to come home with the goods. Or maybe it was homeless and I put it out of its starving misery. Maybe it was one of those unsung heroes in its community. A pillar so to speak. But my educated guess judging by its size, it was a bouncer in a kicking club. you know those guys who have grotesquely big bodies, small heads and even smaller voices. The ones you are scared off until they start talking to you and you are trying your darnest not to burst out laughing.....
Maybe I should have saved it and ushered it towards my workmate who has decided to put his volume at maximum and it is oh! so not the best music in the world. Its distracting my thought process. It would have taught him a lesson. And they would have sized each other up proper. Large ant meets large lunje man. The face-off. This ant will my friend this week.
I think I'm going to call him Allan. I have never had a friend call Allan.
I have a strange fear for dead insects. I can't touch them. I walk around them for days until they start to blend with the furniture. Sometimes I give them names then I start talking to them and eventually we are so close I mourn when someone unwittingly gets rid of them. Good thing about dead insects is that they don't have that smell that dead rats have. So now, I have this curiously large insect in front of my keyboard watching me work with its critical large eye. Just chilling. Enjoying the view. Or so I hope.
Speaking of rats, I learnt yesterday that rats actually live in gardens. I had always assumed they live in houses like normal people. You know. Just chilling in ceilings and dusty corners and in perfectly curved holes like Jerry (Tom and Jerry). Imagine my shock when my mother said she was going to let a cat loose on our garden because the rats were uncontrollable. I quietly wondered why they weren't indoors.Especially in these season.
(Back to my ant). Maybe I should take a photo of this ant. It must have a family somewhere hoping its going to come home with the goods. Or maybe it was homeless and I put it out of its starving misery. Maybe it was one of those unsung heroes in its community. A pillar so to speak. But my educated guess judging by its size, it was a bouncer in a kicking club. you know those guys who have grotesquely big bodies, small heads and even smaller voices. The ones you are scared off until they start talking to you and you are trying your darnest not to burst out laughing.....
Maybe I should have saved it and ushered it towards my workmate who has decided to put his volume at maximum and it is oh! so not the best music in the world. Its distracting my thought process. It would have taught him a lesson. And they would have sized each other up proper. Large ant meets large lunje man. The face-off. This ant will my friend this week.
I think I'm going to call him Allan. I have never had a friend call Allan.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Me and my vices
This is me. I'm sorry. It's a bit unfortunate, maybe even slightly sad but this is it. When I wake up in the morning, I can only wake up as myself. Not my mother, not Mother Teresa and definitely not you. Severely dented, overly distressed, disturbingly confused by life but there's only so much I can do to change myself.
Things that make me charming yet complex (charmingly complex):
1. I talk to myself: If you're not that interesting, I will retreat, my eyes will glaze over and I will begin my own monologue. I'll even help along the conversation by adding my own anecdotes of your life. So when I smile, it is probably because of what your alter ego said in my head. Deal with it. Talking to myself also helps me solve problems. I feel if I say it out loud, the solution becomes realer. And yes sometimes I will sing and gesticulate. I am not insane, I just find myself very interesting sometimes.
2. I cry sometimes: I'm a girl and I'm sorry, I will not apologise for my tears. It's what I do. If I'm stranded I'll cry pitifully, if I'm in pain I'll cry painfully, if you're a bastard, I will cry angrily and if I haven't cried in a couple of months, I will just cry over life and the war in Aii-raq. But I will cry. Standing there looking at me like I'm some species from another planet and telling me to stop crying will just make me cry more. So either be useful or go away.
3. I don't do crowds well: When I'm with you in a club and I walk out, I'm not pissed. I'm not PMS-ing. I'm just overwhelmed. Crowds tend to suck the air out of my lungs literally. I just need some air somewhere where the walls are not closing in on me. Where everyone is not bumping onto me with their sweaty bodies. I hate being bumped into. Constantly looking for a space to stand. That's why I unsuccessfully fight meeting anyone in town and worse still, in Westlands.
4. I am a girl of many fears: Yes, I am one of those people who fear everything. I am afraid of height, depths, widths. I am afraid of being alone, I'm afraid that someone will one day hit me from the back and since I'm hopelessly unable to defend myself, he will sue me for all I'm worth. I'm afraid of people leaving me and paranoid that new people I meet will hate me at first sight. I'm afraid no one reads my blog. Yes, I am afraid. I know I hide it well but when I complain bitterly about the sorry state of my world, I am just letting my fears out so let me be.
5. I hate acronyms: Don't TGIF, OMG, ROTFLMAO me or whatever other short-form you think is clever and cute. Life isn't like twitter.We dont only have 140 characters to describe our deepest thoughts. I am not a child so I do understand full words. and they charge texts per sms not per letter so use your bloody keypad. If I don't reply immediately, its because I'm banging my head on the wall so that I don't come over and punch yours in.
6. Rhetorical questions make me sarcastic....not rude. There's a difference:
Random Person 1: Where are you going?
Me: I'm heading to church/town/work/home
Random Person 1: Serious? You go to church/work/home/town?
Me: Noooo.I just go to use their clean toilets.
(My mind: ooooooh!that's a good one. maybe we should throw in one more)
There are just some conversations that don't need to be prolonged or had at all. Unfortunately the people who ask such random questions are not even worth lying to so why would I lie about my whereabouts. And then don't say after that " You're so cold!", I will slap you. You don't know me well enough to be summing up my personality in your own words.
7.I don't hug random people: If I have never hugged you, its because you're random. Nothing personal, I just don't go around hugging people I've just met (unless they were introduced to me by my mother and I absolutely have no choice). I am just not into obliviously touching people. I don't hold hands, don't wrap limbs, sit uncomfortably close to people ... Don't look at me strangely because I shook your hand and hugged the cross eyed chap next to you. He's/ she's my boy...you?not so much.
8. I do not repeat myself: If you weren't listening, I get peeved. I prefer not to hear my voice saying the same thing twice let alone 3 or 10 times. So no, don't say "what was that again!" and never ever say "Sorry, I must have drifted off!"...I will go all Siakago AP on your arse. If phone network is bad, I will repeat myself. If my voice got lost in the noises around us, I will repeat but if we were standing perfectly still in a perfectly still place, then that train has passed and I am not repeating my precious words of wisdom. And they are precious and very wise!!
9.I do not like unintelligent people: No one likes to admit it but we can only cope with dumb people for so long. I appreciate the variety of IQ's that the good Lord has blessed us with but there's a level I just won't stoop to. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but that does not mean I have to go looking for the dull and broken ones to associate with. I am not talking about the mentally handicapped. (Those ones can't help their situation), I am talking about the ones who refused to mature up after they hit puberty. Intelligence doesn't just elude the uneducated and unwashed masses mind you. It eludes some managers and CEO's too.
10. Last but in no way least, I cannot stand big egos: When you approach me, keep your 80k phone and your 15M car far away from me. That's not impressing me much. I realise people with big egos are defined by their things and their achievements more than their severely warped characters. I can only make so many jokes about your 24s and there can only be so many conversations about your watch. And frankly loving yourself that much only makes you sound a bit gay. Give someone else a chance to get in on the loving action. However after 4 or 5 meetings, you can introduce me to your car. I never pass up an opportunity to meet a new European.
Things that make me charming yet complex (charmingly complex):
1. I talk to myself: If you're not that interesting, I will retreat, my eyes will glaze over and I will begin my own monologue. I'll even help along the conversation by adding my own anecdotes of your life. So when I smile, it is probably because of what your alter ego said in my head. Deal with it. Talking to myself also helps me solve problems. I feel if I say it out loud, the solution becomes realer. And yes sometimes I will sing and gesticulate. I am not insane, I just find myself very interesting sometimes.
2. I cry sometimes: I'm a girl and I'm sorry, I will not apologise for my tears. It's what I do. If I'm stranded I'll cry pitifully, if I'm in pain I'll cry painfully, if you're a bastard, I will cry angrily and if I haven't cried in a couple of months, I will just cry over life and the war in Aii-raq. But I will cry. Standing there looking at me like I'm some species from another planet and telling me to stop crying will just make me cry more. So either be useful or go away.
3. I don't do crowds well: When I'm with you in a club and I walk out, I'm not pissed. I'm not PMS-ing. I'm just overwhelmed. Crowds tend to suck the air out of my lungs literally. I just need some air somewhere where the walls are not closing in on me. Where everyone is not bumping onto me with their sweaty bodies. I hate being bumped into. Constantly looking for a space to stand. That's why I unsuccessfully fight meeting anyone in town and worse still, in Westlands.
4. I am a girl of many fears: Yes, I am one of those people who fear everything. I am afraid of height, depths, widths. I am afraid of being alone, I'm afraid that someone will one day hit me from the back and since I'm hopelessly unable to defend myself, he will sue me for all I'm worth. I'm afraid of people leaving me and paranoid that new people I meet will hate me at first sight. I'm afraid no one reads my blog. Yes, I am afraid. I know I hide it well but when I complain bitterly about the sorry state of my world, I am just letting my fears out so let me be.
5. I hate acronyms: Don't TGIF, OMG, ROTFLMAO me or whatever other short-form you think is clever and cute. Life isn't like twitter.We dont only have 140 characters to describe our deepest thoughts. I am not a child so I do understand full words. and they charge texts per sms not per letter so use your bloody keypad. If I don't reply immediately, its because I'm banging my head on the wall so that I don't come over and punch yours in.
6. Rhetorical questions make me sarcastic....not rude. There's a difference:
Random Person 1: Where are you going?
Me: I'm heading to church/town/work/home
Random Person 1: Serious? You go to church/work/home/town?
Me: Noooo.I just go to use their clean toilets.
(My mind: ooooooh!that's a good one. maybe we should throw in one more)
There are just some conversations that don't need to be prolonged or had at all. Unfortunately the people who ask such random questions are not even worth lying to so why would I lie about my whereabouts. And then don't say after that " You're so cold!", I will slap you. You don't know me well enough to be summing up my personality in your own words.
7.I don't hug random people: If I have never hugged you, its because you're random. Nothing personal, I just don't go around hugging people I've just met (unless they were introduced to me by my mother and I absolutely have no choice). I am just not into obliviously touching people. I don't hold hands, don't wrap limbs, sit uncomfortably close to people ... Don't look at me strangely because I shook your hand and hugged the cross eyed chap next to you. He's/ she's my boy...you?not so much.
8. I do not repeat myself: If you weren't listening, I get peeved. I prefer not to hear my voice saying the same thing twice let alone 3 or 10 times. So no, don't say "what was that again!" and never ever say "Sorry, I must have drifted off!"...I will go all Siakago AP on your arse. If phone network is bad, I will repeat myself. If my voice got lost in the noises around us, I will repeat but if we were standing perfectly still in a perfectly still place, then that train has passed and I am not repeating my precious words of wisdom. And they are precious and very wise!!
9.I do not like unintelligent people: No one likes to admit it but we can only cope with dumb people for so long. I appreciate the variety of IQ's that the good Lord has blessed us with but there's a level I just won't stoop to. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but that does not mean I have to go looking for the dull and broken ones to associate with. I am not talking about the mentally handicapped. (Those ones can't help their situation), I am talking about the ones who refused to mature up after they hit puberty. Intelligence doesn't just elude the uneducated and unwashed masses mind you. It eludes some managers and CEO's too.
10. Last but in no way least, I cannot stand big egos: When you approach me, keep your 80k phone and your 15M car far away from me. That's not impressing me much. I realise people with big egos are defined by their things and their achievements more than their severely warped characters. I can only make so many jokes about your 24s and there can only be so many conversations about your watch. And frankly loving yourself that much only makes you sound a bit gay. Give someone else a chance to get in on the loving action. However after 4 or 5 meetings, you can introduce me to your car. I never pass up an opportunity to meet a new European.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
A new dawn.
Tomorrow I celebrate (more like trudge through) the next year.I've never been quite a birthday celebrator. More because of lack of opportunity than lack of desire. This is the first birthday since I joined school half a century ago that I am not either reading for exams or doing them. So you see why this is very strange. I will just be twiddling tomorrow my thumbs wondering what people do on such days.
Anyway, tonight I think I'll pray. It's not going to be those "If I die before I wake..." prayers or the "Lord please let me not get carjacked and molested" that I do at 3 in the morning while doing F1 speeds back home but an actual sincere prayer. Laying my year down before the Almighty. This year that has ended has had all the makings of a good movie. Tears, Laughter, Intensity, Calmness and sometimes downright ridiculous fiction. What is saddening though as I look back, is how little life has changed since last November. Other than the vigorous studying I used to do around this time, there is not that much that has improved for me as a person.
So I have a small list of things I'll take to the Lord in prayer. Important things that I think I may have taken for granted over the years and hence my life kinda took a turn towards a tragic movie than a feel-good one. Now, since I want my next year to go the way of a feel-good movie,in fact I want it to read like an animation. Like Finding Nemo only without having to got to the dentist's office (which I should probably do soon).
1. Health
If there is something that this year has taught me is not to take my health for granted. The last 6 months have been a battle between back pains and fevers. If I wasn't bending over in back pains I was shivering in bed with some sort of fever. So slowly and expensively I started my journey to better health. I eat better, I exercise more, I drink less and spend fewer and fewer nights out, I unsuccessfully try not to watch TV in bed or even work while under the covers. Eventually I had to change my mode of transport to accommodate my aches and pains. I'm thinking that I should go for all those tests that October is about just to make sure nothing is wrong. But all in all, there is only so much I can do. Everything else I'm laying down before Him.
2. Contentment
I always thought I was generally content with life.Not until I realised how often I talk about moving on up and how quickly that should happen. I actually have budgetary plans for each pay grade I may achieve in the next 5-10 years. I have no doubt about how much I should have by then and what I shall do with it. However, contentment has nothing to do with my 10 year plan. It has to do with everything I am today. Thinking about "coulda, shoulda, woulda" is not improving my quality of life any. I cannot help what I don't have now just what I have. So I'm going to pray that I appreciate where I am now and how much I have now.
3. Company
I am a queen hermit. I usually do everything by myself mostly because I believe it'll be faster. That is until I started noticing I'm dropping friends like dead weeds and soon I was almost alone. My parents and God are great company but at some point, you need people who speak your language and understand your position in life. You need a pack or a herd. You need to associate. I had forgotten that loneliness is a bad place to be. That was until I was lonely and alone. A couple of weeks back, I was in doubt about something I thought was quite large, and I think it shocked me that in a phone book of hundreds of names, I could barely call anyone without feeling like a nag. I t was upsetting. Having people you can call when in need or doubt or just when you need to sit quietly and watch traffic,is a basic need. Loneliness does kill.
4. Self Control
This is my biggest vice. I have very little self control when it comes to .....well, everything.My attitude towards life is "what's the worst that could happen!". That is really not the way to live life coz alot worse can happen. Let's just say "Mungu amenionekania" over the years and protected me from my own stupidity. Since I know I can only drag that luck for only so long, I shall add this to my list.
5. Faith
My lack of faith in humanity is legendary. I never believe that people will come through. I'm a true "Seeing is Believing" character.I have faith in God, it's everyone else that I doubt. Opportunity is lost when in doubt and God knows my ambitious soul does not do lost opportunities well. So I think I need a little more faith on what man can do for me. Less skepticism would probably do wonders on my personal CV.
I have a much longer list than this but that is between me and God and whoever will be sitted close enough to hear my random thoughts. It's a scary year I'm getting into. The pressure to perform is higher, the desire to be better is greater and I really don't want to look back 12 months from now and still find myself doing the exact same thing I'm doing now and praying for the exact some things I am now.
Wish me luck everyone! :)
Do not limit your future by basing it on the past, projecting what you can do by what you have done. Your goal is not just to be better than you were, but as good as you can ultimately be.
.....Todd Skinner
Anyway, tonight I think I'll pray. It's not going to be those "If I die before I wake..." prayers or the "Lord please let me not get carjacked and molested" that I do at 3 in the morning while doing F1 speeds back home but an actual sincere prayer. Laying my year down before the Almighty. This year that has ended has had all the makings of a good movie. Tears, Laughter, Intensity, Calmness and sometimes downright ridiculous fiction. What is saddening though as I look back, is how little life has changed since last November. Other than the vigorous studying I used to do around this time, there is not that much that has improved for me as a person.
So I have a small list of things I'll take to the Lord in prayer. Important things that I think I may have taken for granted over the years and hence my life kinda took a turn towards a tragic movie than a feel-good one. Now, since I want my next year to go the way of a feel-good movie,in fact I want it to read like an animation. Like Finding Nemo only without having to got to the dentist's office (which I should probably do soon).
1. Health
If there is something that this year has taught me is not to take my health for granted. The last 6 months have been a battle between back pains and fevers. If I wasn't bending over in back pains I was shivering in bed with some sort of fever. So slowly and expensively I started my journey to better health. I eat better, I exercise more, I drink less and spend fewer and fewer nights out, I unsuccessfully try not to watch TV in bed or even work while under the covers. Eventually I had to change my mode of transport to accommodate my aches and pains. I'm thinking that I should go for all those tests that October is about just to make sure nothing is wrong. But all in all, there is only so much I can do. Everything else I'm laying down before Him.
2. Contentment
I always thought I was generally content with life.Not until I realised how often I talk about moving on up and how quickly that should happen. I actually have budgetary plans for each pay grade I may achieve in the next 5-10 years. I have no doubt about how much I should have by then and what I shall do with it. However, contentment has nothing to do with my 10 year plan. It has to do with everything I am today. Thinking about "coulda, shoulda, woulda" is not improving my quality of life any. I cannot help what I don't have now just what I have. So I'm going to pray that I appreciate where I am now and how much I have now.
3. Company
I am a queen hermit. I usually do everything by myself mostly because I believe it'll be faster. That is until I started noticing I'm dropping friends like dead weeds and soon I was almost alone. My parents and God are great company but at some point, you need people who speak your language and understand your position in life. You need a pack or a herd. You need to associate. I had forgotten that loneliness is a bad place to be. That was until I was lonely and alone. A couple of weeks back, I was in doubt about something I thought was quite large, and I think it shocked me that in a phone book of hundreds of names, I could barely call anyone without feeling like a nag. I t was upsetting. Having people you can call when in need or doubt or just when you need to sit quietly and watch traffic,is a basic need. Loneliness does kill.
4. Self Control
This is my biggest vice. I have very little self control when it comes to .....well, everything.My attitude towards life is "what's the worst that could happen!". That is really not the way to live life coz alot worse can happen. Let's just say "Mungu amenionekania" over the years and protected me from my own stupidity. Since I know I can only drag that luck for only so long, I shall add this to my list.
5. Faith
My lack of faith in humanity is legendary. I never believe that people will come through. I'm a true "Seeing is Believing" character.I have faith in God, it's everyone else that I doubt. Opportunity is lost when in doubt and God knows my ambitious soul does not do lost opportunities well. So I think I need a little more faith on what man can do for me. Less skepticism would probably do wonders on my personal CV.
I have a much longer list than this but that is between me and God and whoever will be sitted close enough to hear my random thoughts. It's a scary year I'm getting into. The pressure to perform is higher, the desire to be better is greater and I really don't want to look back 12 months from now and still find myself doing the exact same thing I'm doing now and praying for the exact some things I am now.
Wish me luck everyone! :)
Do not limit your future by basing it on the past, projecting what you can do by what you have done. Your goal is not just to be better than you were, but as good as you can ultimately be.
.....Todd Skinner
Monday, November 8, 2010
Need to Breathe
It is one of those days. I woke up and I couldn't breath. I couldn't see. I must have been crying at night or something. I'm not too sure. But I think the tears were making my eyes blurry in the early morning light. I don't know what I was dreaming about. I don't know if it was worth the tears but I do have a feeling I should be glad I didn't know. My emotional scale would probably be off the charts if I did.
I tried drawing breath as I showered, I tried as I dressed for work, I tried again as I made my way to work. The only thought in my mind was "I need to breath!" I'm still trying now.I'm not sure a drink would help and sleeping clearly didn't. I don't want to talk about it and yet I don't want to be alone. I just need to be able to breath. I need to get this blank stare off my face and show some kind of emotion. Even the tears would be a welcome change from the expressionless face staring back at me in the mirror. This overly open eyes telling me that it doesn't matter.
Maybe I need a distraction. Maybe I need someone to tell me that whatever has gotten me in this mood will turn out to be just fine. Maybe I need to stop over-thinking. Maybe I just need to stop thinking. All I know is I need something to get me breathing again. Anything would do and suggestions are highly welcome.
I've tried the radio and I can barely hear or understand anything, I've tried eating and the food refused to get down, I've even tried standing around the kitchen in the hope that people's conversations will jolt me out of this bad head-space am in. But all I want to do is go back to bed and undo whatever it is that has happened. If only so that I stop spending so much time blindly hoping for something better to roll on by. All I need to do is breath. All I want to do is breath.
I tried drawing breath as I showered, I tried as I dressed for work, I tried again as I made my way to work. The only thought in my mind was "I need to breath!" I'm still trying now.I'm not sure a drink would help and sleeping clearly didn't. I don't want to talk about it and yet I don't want to be alone. I just need to be able to breath. I need to get this blank stare off my face and show some kind of emotion. Even the tears would be a welcome change from the expressionless face staring back at me in the mirror. This overly open eyes telling me that it doesn't matter.
Maybe I need a distraction. Maybe I need someone to tell me that whatever has gotten me in this mood will turn out to be just fine. Maybe I need to stop over-thinking. Maybe I just need to stop thinking. All I know is I need something to get me breathing again. Anything would do and suggestions are highly welcome.
I've tried the radio and I can barely hear or understand anything, I've tried eating and the food refused to get down, I've even tried standing around the kitchen in the hope that people's conversations will jolt me out of this bad head-space am in. But all I want to do is go back to bed and undo whatever it is that has happened. If only so that I stop spending so much time blindly hoping for something better to roll on by. All I need to do is breath. All I want to do is breath.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Parent's Appreciation Day
My father comes from village where every girl did B-Com and every boy became a Contractor or an Electrical Engineer. This is quite strange because all these years later, the villagers still live in mud and timber huts and no electricity or even signs of electricity in the area. So everyone I have met from this little village in the middle of Central Province is called "Engineer" or "Mhasibu". I tend to think there was a certain lack of creativity going on or maybe perhaps its the Presbyterian Missionary who didn't quite specify what he meant by "Go forth, multiply and build the nation". My village people might have taken it a bit too literally.
So yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting one of my dad's childhood friends. Naturally, she was an Insurance Agent. Multiplying the world one insurance policy at a time. She insures everyone from the village. She told me her biggest business was of workman's compensation and Pick-ups. I figured a village that works together gets rich together. And Amen to that.
Anyway it was a refreshing meeting. To meet someone who has known your parents for so long, they actually knew each other when they had scrapped knees and herded cattle....or whatever our parents did in the pre-tv age. I think talking to her opened up my perspective of my parents. Suddenly they weren't just the people who make me wash dishes with a hangover or complain endlessly about my hair and untidy room. Suddenly, they were real people who were people's friends and mentors and advisors and shoulders to lean on. Suddenly, I was sharing my parents with the world.
I think for the longest time, I never pictured my parents as actual people beyond the walls of our house. They were some amorphous beings who did other random things and then came home to be our parents. But they aren't. As I came to realize yesterday. They meet and talk to their friends like the rest of us. They drink coffee, they have deadlines, they have deals to make, people to answer to. You know, they have a life beyond their children.
But one thing that struck me the most was when she asked me "Could you imagine if your parents were selfish?" Could you? Could I? I have extremely selfless parents. Sometimes I feel like I'm taking advantage of their goodwill and truth be told, sometimes I do. I believe they would do anything for us. I don't think I have ever had to worry about a thing in my life. My worries are usually selfish and directed elsewhere. But as far as food, shelter, clothing and love are concerned, I have no complaints. Just appreciation and thanksgiving.
It is very rare when you meet people who support you 100% of the time. My parents, well, they may be my biggest critics (with good cause, I do a lot of critical things) but they are also my loudest cheering squad. Any of us could come home one day and declare we wanted to live on the moon and I can bet the response will be : "If that is what you think is best, go find out the details and we can see how we will go about it." I read in the book "Purple Hibiscus", ....she seemed to set the bar higher and higher for her children. Not because she was forcing them to scale it but because she was confident that they would. I think that describes their support. I do not think I'd be where I am or who I am without them.
So today, I raise a glass to the two people who gave me breath, supported me, educated me and watch me with pride when I blossom and pity when I wither . To the people from the land of Contractors and Accountants, to the couple who are friends, confidants, prayer partners and good Samaritans to everyone including me. To the man and woman who taught me that life is never that serious, so I need to breath a little. Hear hear to my parents. Hear, hear to Parents' Appreciation Day.
So yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting one of my dad's childhood friends. Naturally, she was an Insurance Agent. Multiplying the world one insurance policy at a time. She insures everyone from the village. She told me her biggest business was of workman's compensation and Pick-ups. I figured a village that works together gets rich together. And Amen to that.
Anyway it was a refreshing meeting. To meet someone who has known your parents for so long, they actually knew each other when they had scrapped knees and herded cattle....or whatever our parents did in the pre-tv age. I think talking to her opened up my perspective of my parents. Suddenly they weren't just the people who make me wash dishes with a hangover or complain endlessly about my hair and untidy room. Suddenly, they were real people who were people's friends and mentors and advisors and shoulders to lean on. Suddenly, I was sharing my parents with the world.
I think for the longest time, I never pictured my parents as actual people beyond the walls of our house. They were some amorphous beings who did other random things and then came home to be our parents. But they aren't. As I came to realize yesterday. They meet and talk to their friends like the rest of us. They drink coffee, they have deadlines, they have deals to make, people to answer to. You know, they have a life beyond their children.
But one thing that struck me the most was when she asked me "Could you imagine if your parents were selfish?" Could you? Could I? I have extremely selfless parents. Sometimes I feel like I'm taking advantage of their goodwill and truth be told, sometimes I do. I believe they would do anything for us. I don't think I have ever had to worry about a thing in my life. My worries are usually selfish and directed elsewhere. But as far as food, shelter, clothing and love are concerned, I have no complaints. Just appreciation and thanksgiving.
It is very rare when you meet people who support you 100% of the time. My parents, well, they may be my biggest critics (with good cause, I do a lot of critical things) but they are also my loudest cheering squad. Any of us could come home one day and declare we wanted to live on the moon and I can bet the response will be : "If that is what you think is best, go find out the details and we can see how we will go about it." I read in the book "Purple Hibiscus", ....she seemed to set the bar higher and higher for her children. Not because she was forcing them to scale it but because she was confident that they would. I think that describes their support. I do not think I'd be where I am or who I am without them.
So today, I raise a glass to the two people who gave me breath, supported me, educated me and watch me with pride when I blossom and pity when I wither . To the people from the land of Contractors and Accountants, to the couple who are friends, confidants, prayer partners and good Samaritans to everyone including me. To the man and woman who taught me that life is never that serious, so I need to breath a little. Hear hear to my parents. Hear, hear to Parents' Appreciation Day.
Monday, November 1, 2010
My journey to the Stadium....or not.
We decided to do this months ago. My brother and I. You would have thought with months of resolve would come months of practice but alas! We did practice though. Sporadically and schedule-less. But we did practice a little. That was my journey to my half marathon at Nyayo Stadium yesterday.
My reason for doing the half marathon was pretty simple. I needed to prove something to myself. My birthday is coming up, I'm turning a very old age and when I look back at the year, I really needed to say to myself, I managed to do something new.Something different. Something that will show me that I am changing, growing. This was my first step to change. I was going to ditch the 10 km run for a proper adult "panting fest". And I was as psychologically prepared as I was physically unprepared. And I was very physically unprepared but perception is everything so I wore my most sporty looking clothes and off to the stadium we went.
I always do the marathon. I have very bad eyesight and I run more like a bribe to God to not take the eyesight I have left away.
So we assembled at the assembly point where we stood with people of all shapes, sizes and dress codes. When you see someone in leather shoes with no socks, you figure you're not too badly off. That was of course until the buzzer went off and people excitedly lifted their hands and started running and the people in leather and jeans left me behind. At 7.20 a.m, the weather is great for a run because there's this lovely breeze that counters all the heat you're producing. and my body was producing a lot of heat. Here's a tip for all non-marathoners out there. Conserve your energy throughout the run. I have never done half a marathon before so this was not something that ever occurred to me. I was excited and running like the wind. Ok! maybe like a very slow breeze but it was the wind non the less.
That was the first 6 kms and then my chest started burning something fierce. So I slowed down but I was determined to finish inside that stadium. It's always been a really really big desire for me to run inside the stadium and hear people cheer for me like I've been cheering for everyone in the past.This was my turn. So I pushed on. Somewhere on the like 8 km mark, some thin men and women who were doing the 10 km run came passing me like an avalanche. A very brightly dressed avalanche. They were all in these luminous clothes that were barely there and boy! were they fast. What shocked me was this particularly tiny woman in a luminous yellow net top thingy. She was talking to some guy on the chase bike about her age and how long she's been running. How do you run at 100km/h and still have enough energy to talk to the guy chasing you with a bike. It was ridiculous.
I hit the 10 km mark about 55 minutes later. Which would have been great time if I was still doing the 10km run. That's when I met a particular Asian guy who told me he has done 10 half marathons.5 here and 5 in Denver. He was the first person to ever tell me to pace myself. He said after a couple of marathons, you start to learn your speed. He learnt his pace so I decided to try out his pace for another km. That was before his pace started making my thighs feel like they were on fire. That was about the time I started panicking. I had left my brother at the First Aid tent so from here on in, I was my own moral support. The Indian guy had left me behind and I could feel every muscle on my back, on my thighs, on my calfs and there were some strange small and very annoying stones that had made their way into my sneakers. I hated those stones.
45 minutes later I hit the 16 km mark. There's that beeping sound it makes when you cross it that made me almost scream with joy. Almost. I had no strength. A little after that is when the muscles surrounding my spine decided to bunch up in a tight little ball and cause me untold agony. People doing the marathon are actually quite a nice bunch. A certain small sweaty woman helped me to the nearest first aid tent that felt like it was another 15 km away. She sacrificed her time for me. (Time is everything in the marathon.Every minute counts). The sun had come out with a vengeance and there were beautifully dressed, nice smelling people crossing the road on their way to church. I disliked the fact that they could walk back home and I had to eventually make my way back to the stadium, 3 hours away in the hot sun. It was only 5 km away. The longest 5 kms ever.
After a short stint at the first aid tent, they told me to slowly walk to the stadium. It was one painful step after another from there on in. But I was going to make it into the stadium, cheering and all. Those 5 kms took almost another hr. The sun was beating down on me, my muscles were pulling my hips, bum and spine together but I had to make it to the stadium. The 42 km people came swishing past me. The sun on their luminous clothes almost blinded me. But there were these 4 kalenjin looking chaps who eventually started walking really, really slowly. They were of the bright coloured clothes calibre. I could have hugged them. They had already done 38 kms. They figured walking the other 4 to the finish line won't hurt. I hang out with them for a bit.One of them had an "Inchary ya ham-string!". They slowed down some more so I walked a bit faster. Not a bright move.
About 500m to the gate of Nyayo, my back finally gave up. I could barely stand let alone walk or even run around the stadium. There were all these other runs telling me "you're almost there". They had no idea how much I wished I was there. The car was 200m away, the gate was 500m away and there was still an extra 400m in the stadium to the finish line. I got to the car and collapsed. I couldn't do it. I couldn't will myself to do those last 700m. I tried. My body just couldn't do it. That's where my brother found me a few minutes later. In a bend-over position by the passenger door.He giggled, helped me in and we drove off.
Will I do it next year? Probably. With my affinity to self-torture. Most probably. But next time I'm running in the stadium and people will cheer at my great achievement. 20 kms wasn't too bad for a start. Next time I'll do all 21. Like Obama said "Yes I can...but maybe not right now!"
My reason for doing the half marathon was pretty simple. I needed to prove something to myself. My birthday is coming up, I'm turning a very old age and when I look back at the year, I really needed to say to myself, I managed to do something new.Something different. Something that will show me that I am changing, growing. This was my first step to change. I was going to ditch the 10 km run for a proper adult "panting fest". And I was as psychologically prepared as I was physically unprepared. And I was very physically unprepared but perception is everything so I wore my most sporty looking clothes and off to the stadium we went.
I always do the marathon. I have very bad eyesight and I run more like a bribe to God to not take the eyesight I have left away.
So we assembled at the assembly point where we stood with people of all shapes, sizes and dress codes. When you see someone in leather shoes with no socks, you figure you're not too badly off. That was of course until the buzzer went off and people excitedly lifted their hands and started running and the people in leather and jeans left me behind. At 7.20 a.m, the weather is great for a run because there's this lovely breeze that counters all the heat you're producing. and my body was producing a lot of heat. Here's a tip for all non-marathoners out there. Conserve your energy throughout the run. I have never done half a marathon before so this was not something that ever occurred to me. I was excited and running like the wind. Ok! maybe like a very slow breeze but it was the wind non the less.
That was the first 6 kms and then my chest started burning something fierce. So I slowed down but I was determined to finish inside that stadium. It's always been a really really big desire for me to run inside the stadium and hear people cheer for me like I've been cheering for everyone in the past.This was my turn. So I pushed on. Somewhere on the like 8 km mark, some thin men and women who were doing the 10 km run came passing me like an avalanche. A very brightly dressed avalanche. They were all in these luminous clothes that were barely there and boy! were they fast. What shocked me was this particularly tiny woman in a luminous yellow net top thingy. She was talking to some guy on the chase bike about her age and how long she's been running. How do you run at 100km/h and still have enough energy to talk to the guy chasing you with a bike. It was ridiculous.
I hit the 10 km mark about 55 minutes later. Which would have been great time if I was still doing the 10km run. That's when I met a particular Asian guy who told me he has done 10 half marathons.5 here and 5 in Denver. He was the first person to ever tell me to pace myself. He said after a couple of marathons, you start to learn your speed. He learnt his pace so I decided to try out his pace for another km. That was before his pace started making my thighs feel like they were on fire. That was about the time I started panicking. I had left my brother at the First Aid tent so from here on in, I was my own moral support. The Indian guy had left me behind and I could feel every muscle on my back, on my thighs, on my calfs and there were some strange small and very annoying stones that had made their way into my sneakers. I hated those stones.
45 minutes later I hit the 16 km mark. There's that beeping sound it makes when you cross it that made me almost scream with joy. Almost. I had no strength. A little after that is when the muscles surrounding my spine decided to bunch up in a tight little ball and cause me untold agony. People doing the marathon are actually quite a nice bunch. A certain small sweaty woman helped me to the nearest first aid tent that felt like it was another 15 km away. She sacrificed her time for me. (Time is everything in the marathon.Every minute counts). The sun had come out with a vengeance and there were beautifully dressed, nice smelling people crossing the road on their way to church. I disliked the fact that they could walk back home and I had to eventually make my way back to the stadium, 3 hours away in the hot sun. It was only 5 km away. The longest 5 kms ever.
After a short stint at the first aid tent, they told me to slowly walk to the stadium. It was one painful step after another from there on in. But I was going to make it into the stadium, cheering and all. Those 5 kms took almost another hr. The sun was beating down on me, my muscles were pulling my hips, bum and spine together but I had to make it to the stadium. The 42 km people came swishing past me. The sun on their luminous clothes almost blinded me. But there were these 4 kalenjin looking chaps who eventually started walking really, really slowly. They were of the bright coloured clothes calibre. I could have hugged them. They had already done 38 kms. They figured walking the other 4 to the finish line won't hurt. I hang out with them for a bit.One of them had an "Inchary ya ham-string!". They slowed down some more so I walked a bit faster. Not a bright move.
About 500m to the gate of Nyayo, my back finally gave up. I could barely stand let alone walk or even run around the stadium. There were all these other runs telling me "you're almost there". They had no idea how much I wished I was there. The car was 200m away, the gate was 500m away and there was still an extra 400m in the stadium to the finish line. I got to the car and collapsed. I couldn't do it. I couldn't will myself to do those last 700m. I tried. My body just couldn't do it. That's where my brother found me a few minutes later. In a bend-over position by the passenger door.He giggled, helped me in and we drove off.
Will I do it next year? Probably. With my affinity to self-torture. Most probably. But next time I'm running in the stadium and people will cheer at my great achievement. 20 kms wasn't too bad for a start. Next time I'll do all 21. Like Obama said "Yes I can...but maybe not right now!"
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