P.O.Box 28, Friend zone

Lately, there has been much talk about the friend zone. At least in my circles (which seem to be more oval than round) Anyway, where were we? in the friend zone.

This word has been around for a minute and roughly means the point at which ‘Chick’ sees ‘Dude’ as a friend and nothing more.

Well, what’s so wrong with the friend zone? Nothing, if you ask me. But then again you didn’t ask. From my little intel (nothing Synovate or Infotrack going on here) Guys hate the friend zone or they pretend to.

According to the Urban Dictionary- The Friend Zone: A state of being where a male inadvertently becomes a ‘platonic friend’ of an attractive female who he was trying to initiate a romantic relationship. Females have been rumoured to arrive in the Friend Zone, but reports are unsubstantiated.

Who is at fault for zoning, the friend zoner or the friend zonee?

Many have said friend zoning is like going to a job interview where they like your CV but say ‘Sorry we can’t hire you but can you please, please hang around?’

You see an interview is an interview is an interview. That’s to say, everything about it is deliberate. You apply, you show up and if you don’t like the terms you are free to scoot.

It pays to state your intentions upfront because anyone who thinks that they can persuade the other into a relationship via being a friend is not special, but deluded. Deluded because friendships don’t always end up in ‘those’ relationships and sometimes you end up losing a really good friendship coz you decided to de/unfriend zone it.

Wait a minute, stating intentions is ok for guys but my 3^rd world country hasn’t quite accepted it, neither has my 3^rd world mind.

That said; let’s not get it twisted coz chicks also get friend zoned.

You mean girls get Friend zoned?

(Insert laughter here)

Oh boy, it happens all the time. I for one have been friend zoned like 12,984 times and counting. However, the good news is, life is sometimes fair.

Sauce for the goose and the gander alike! Right now, I’d like to make a special shout out to all the guys who think that the society is unfair because they get friend zoned by girls, I have news for you: Girls get friend zoned, too. Really!!

For real?

The norm is, the guys make the moves and the girl can do nothing but chill out. The girl’s got to make sure she’s not sending the wrong martian signals. Say hello to ‘Chick’. She really likes this guy called ‘Dude’ and with her simple but ambiguous Facebook updates and Tweets about ‘Dude’ she is already risking her emotions.

‘Chick’ lives in anticipation of conversations with ‘Dude’ hopeful that someday he will reciprocate what she’s feeling. @Chick’ invests so much mafeelings for ‘Dude’ and even has a codename for him. (I’ll be here when you finish laughing). So one time, thirty seven years later ‘Dude’ kind of admits that should there be any girl in the small circle they roll in whom he would have a crush on, that would be ‘Chick’.

Hearts jumping with joy, waterfalls, such things, ‘Chick’ gets so excited, she starts wearing pink, cute things. So later ‘Chick’ tells dude about the codename etc .His response is the codename flatters him, and thanks ‘Chick’ for being honest. Then ‘Dude’ goes on to say: “’Chick’, you’re great but I can only be your friend.”

Her desire to call ‘Cube Movers’ and ask them for the rates of transporting her furniture and keepsakes from Earth to Mars is somewhat justified. Now ‘Chick’ doesn’t hate dude, she’s just extremely embarrassed and had she not been honest she probably would have saved their friendship.

Excuse: women are way more emotional and have more pain receptors than guys do so it must hurt for them more.

As the world turns, there are some people who will never get out of the friend zone, yes eternally zoned. http://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/20-guys-who-will-never-get-out-of-the-friend-zone

I’m no relationship expert and I am not here to provide any solutions. After my semi inane rambling, in the words of Doris Day, I say ‘Que sera sera – What will be, will be’

VIVA LA FRIEND ZONE

Happy Obama Day Andrew Kenneth

Dear Andrew Kenneth,

You have no I idea who I am and that doesn’t matter one bit .Thanks to twitter I caught wind of you. I still haven’t watched you introduce your dad. I’m sure I’ll get round to it. I hope someone warned you that this could happen. That you could become a celebrity over night and consequently fake Facebook pages would pop up. Kenyans on Twitter were even following the wrong Andrew Kenneth, who later came forth to tell us that it was a case of mistaken identity.

Image : nation.co.ke

All you were doing was innocently endorsing your father yet the bulk of the focus shifted to you. But Andrew, you need to understand that’s what we do. We move on to the next one. The next juicy subject. Like what we woke up to this morning. The US Presidential Elections.

Frenzy..at least on social media. We have moved on and left you free to live your life. (Phew) Be that 19 year old, have fun and stand by your pops.(insert let us not forget)

Now on to our (my) new craze Obama. I’ve been updating my social network pages from the moment I got up. You should have seen me riding to work. Though my phone’s battery was almost out, I kept trying to squeeze another update out of it.

Some of them were

Mitt Romney  #Huwesmake You cannot outrun a Kenyan

If you really wanna catch my attention please be sure to insert ‘Obama’ in your sentence today. If not you’ll just sound like hjgvdsfajvcvtaiwugjfdvahjvfgfvahyjfgkjiQYIYQYCDSCFKJ

Mitt Romney… Happy Oh Bummer Day!!!!

As America went to sleep or chose to celebrate his victory ecstatically, I had to  get back to work. Still unsure of what an Obama victory means to the Middle East, China, Afghanistan and most of all to me. Al Qaeda, post election violence ?? Sounds blonde but when it comes to matters political, that is exactly who I am. I have no excuse in this day and age apart from the fact that I am just not interested. Voluntarily ignorant you may say. My curiosity was been virtually non existent until the man who has ancestral roots in  Kogello, Kenya won the race for the biggest office in the world.(Lets not forget that his wife shares my first name)

After his victory speech I couldn’t help but go ‘wow!!! You’ve done your job Barry!!’ But that same speech got me thinking. I had 2 options, move to the States and enjoy my Obamacare or get my head screwed on straight in matters concerning  my country’s future.

I can’t wear my ‘I’m not interested’ coat and be unsure of who gets my vote come 2013. Oh no!! The P-word. Politics. It’s not a subject I can drop like I dropped Geography and Biology in high school. I don’t like it but I need to get over that and myself. I’ll start by paying closer attention to Mr Kenneth. (Senior not Junior) and paying closer attention to this country.

I’ve complained about the leadership before and… (nothing). My point exactly. It’s been nothing but complaints and no real action. Well, there isn’t a better moment to inspire myself than right now.

Now’s the time to wake up, get involved and get familiar.

Jamu By Day And Night

First, a special thank you Miss Katho for giving me this topic.

Ok where to start, I moved into Jamu a couple of months ago. It is my first time to live on my own and I must admit, I really like it. I chose Jamu coz it was affordable, convenient, dusty ( wait a minute that wasn’t a plus). Seems that my choice wasn’t an isolated one coz I have a number of friends living in the J-Zone. Yeah, I’m trying to make it sound cool.

My 2 newly married couple friends( for those who failed math 2 couples = 4 people), who are truly family to me have made my stay in the J-Zone so worthwhile. Together with the ‘new wives’,we’ve discovered salons, learned to avoid the ones with drama, we’ve befriended the con-butchers, yes..they flip their scales when people are not watching. We know the special Anjera spots, where to buy cheaper fries, pre cooked beans. Stop looking at us like that, yes we eat beans. We can tell you which grocer has better ‘mbogas’ and which one wont like it if you ask her to peel the potatoes before you buy them.

I’ve also bumped into lots of people I forgot lived in the J-Zone. There’s the camera guy, the rapper guy, the voice-over guy, the sound guy, my childhood friends, the long lost relative and the list could go on. Truth be told, the J-Zone’s pretty much an okay place to live.

My bachelorette pad is perfect for me. I like the finishing and the fact that I only have 2 neighbours (technically).The J-Zone suits me fine by day because I’m just 5 minutes away from the morning bus. This allows me the luxury of leaving home at 8 am and getting to work by 8:28am. On some evenings, I walk home. (Some means about 4 times in the past months) Most evenings, I take public transport and I’m home in less than 20 mins. The days that I chose to see the J-Zone by night are usually over the weekend. Trust me, there isn’t much to see. I’m glad that the place I live is pretty safe at anytime of the night. Which  reminds me that when I had just moved, there was regularly some drama that involved gunshots. It was fast becoming the regular thing to receive the ‘Are you safe’ texts from family and friends. The sound effects have pretty much died down or maybe I have become an even heavier sleeper. We’ll find out.

There have been stories doing rounds about another type of gunfire in the J-Zone. Gunfire that was attributed to boundaries crossed, personalities clashed, things said and done. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. I got caught up in one of those episodes and I did not hesitate to make every single detail of it known.The part I don’t get is,it didn’t even happen in the hood but… (almost past that). This past week, there was another episode but with a very different cast yet with the same main star. These two incidents seem to have drawn more attention than necessary to the J-Zone. It struck me recently that; should it have happened in the A-Zone or in the Y-Zone, then those would be the areas in discussion. Mountains out of molehills, is the new industry we’re in. That said and done, it is a free country and consequently a free hood. Come and go as you please. I have no title deed in this place. I pay rent. Nevertheless, I do love the J-Zone. I’m not suggesting we start a ‘chama’ or we all start hugging the shopkeeper, the psycho hairdresser and the butcher but how about some love and respect for and in the J-Zone. Handle your business, I handle mine and when we all meet each other in the bus, smile and wave. You go your way, I go mine.

Happy Obama Day!!!

My refusals

This post is inspired by a Facebook update I posted a couple of weeks back. It is a list (not exhaustive and in no particular order) of things I refuse to believe (in). Feel free to add your own.

I refuse to believe that

1. Men cannot wear pink
2. Socks can be worn more than once without washing them
3. Cat-fights are an acceptable way of solving problems
4. Colour-blocking cannot go wrong
5. I cannot have pizza for breakfast
6. I will die if I never drink another soda
7. Love is for the weak
8. Chivalry is dead
9. I don’t have time
10. People who do bad stuff will get away with it
11. I can fix other people
12. There are mistakes too big from which recovery is impossible
13. If I stay he will change
14. I can’t win
15. It doesn’t make any difference how hard I try, or how hard I work or if I do my best or not; the outcome is the same as if I didn’t try at all
16. I have to be able to do it all, perfectly (perfect daughter, perfect sister, perfect girlfriend, perfect employee, perfect church volunteer, etc…)
17. I must have everyone’s love and approval
18. It is easier to avoid problems than to face them.
19. I can’t be happy unless things go my way
20. I shouldn’t have to wait for what I want
21. God can’t use me unless I’m spiritually strong
22. All girls must wear six-inch high heels ( as if to say Gully Creeping is ok)

 

That’s all for now.

Until Delete Do Us Part

‘I, ____, take you, ____, to be my friend, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until delete do us part.’

Sounds like the traditional marriage vows that we know so well but the difference is that these are friendship vows. I’m one of those who spends much of my time on Facebook it truly is a wonder that it hasnt messed up my spelling.

Today I noticed that I have 4818 Facebook friends, which in reality is a joke because I dont think I even know half of the people there. I’ve interacted with these ‘strangers’ on occasion and the results have mostly been positive. That however is a post for another day.

What boggles my mind is the people I know but I never interact with. You know, that friend from the Church I used to go, the one I used to hang out with on the daily.. Makes me think that Facebook should actually intorduce ‘Friendzones’ (ok, ok, private joke!) But like a beautiful soul mentioned to me yesterday ‘Such is life’ and I’ll add seasons and reasons

Hardest to figure out is the people who are past the ‘sell by’  friendship dates, you know, the ones you have ‘beef’ with, the people you don’t like, the ex that you aren’t talking to, why on earth do we keep them as Facebook friends. Is it a test to see who deletes who first? I mean UNFRIENDING/UNFOLLOWING does speak volumes. It saves us from the ‘I’m mad at you’ conversation. It can be done silently but how to do it, when to do it and how to get away with it quietly. LOL

On the other hand culling our friend lists regularly to remove psychos and other hangers-on is a cool thing to do. But then again, not all unfriendings are equal. (Shamba La Wanyama) Some are completely impersonal others are utterly vindictive *insert evil laugh here*.

What I’m trying to say is that in this day and age, the equivalent of the fat lady singing -when you go to your ‘friend’s’ page and find this –> ADD FRIEND.

If that happens to you some time soon, don’t catch a feeling.Remember there’s probably a pending request or two from some stranger, so add friend, move on until delete do you part.

Oh and just to let you know Nov 17th is National Unfriend Day.

Here Kitty Kitty..Here Kitty!

Death By Boring

Here I go, trying to make sure that my blog doesn’t die a natural death. Wait a minute, blogs cannot really die because they’re not really living so in essence a blog’s death would be unnatural.. right?

That’s me… always going off on a tangent. I’ve kept away from writing because I’ve been waiting to get that shabbangiously epic post (yes, I’ve just made up a word).

I didn’t wanna post something udderly(like the cow khe khe khe) BORING! I wanted to wow you and be that profound chick. Then again, that’s not me.

So all I could think of is just reminding you not to be BORING. Don’t try to be someone that you really aren’t. Don’t try to please people at the expense of who you really are.

Go ahead, eat life (omnomnomnomnom) with a big ganjangious Jembe!!

Be yourself.

Don’t be boring.

Shout if you feel like it. Kick your routines in the a$$ (somedays).Don’t follow the masses baby, find your own path.

Sure enough ‘the boring stigma’ will not be your ‘brand’. They’ll call you weird but boring..never!

Today I don’t feel like posting anything…

I’ve been on a Bruno Mars tip for the longest time, concerning my blog.

I’ve wanted to write for the longest but I succumbed to the ‘not-writing demon’. Sometimes I feel like I have so much to say, other times I can barely whisper.

I’m not the greatest writer who ever lived but I figure that my life deserves to be chronicled. If not every living moment, how about my happy ones, my sad ones and generally the ones I remember to jot down.

Sometimes, it feels like blogging is such a waste especially when what I’m blogging is true to who I am. What happens if tomorrow we wake up and all ‘the internets’ (yes I said internets) are gone. It is 2012, you know. Thats just one of the thoughts that keeps me from blogging. Then there’s this other bit, the fact that my blog is me baring it all.. telling ‘Mich’ like it is..making me vulnerable to your scrutiny. That thought has kept me away.

I mean, I could start a fashion (or lack of it) blog, music, or someother  thing that won’t leave me exposed..

Funny part, I have another blog which I have abandoned in equal measure. Well.. I’ll get up, I’ll write..I’ll try ( i have a feeling I’ve said this before )

Oh my…looks like we have a post!!! YAY!!

Lord, I’m Struggling

I’m one of those who would rather win than lose.I’d rather be successful than fail. I’m a lover not a fighter (I claim) but if I must ‘fight’ its an odd war. No nukes, no kicks, no punches and most times I just retreat. Maybe you identify, maybe you don’t

You may know me as a tough cookie. I’m that girl who pretty much has everything under control. I can afford a smile even when I’m aching on the inside. I prefer to sort out my drama behind closed doors, all by myself. By the time we hook up and hang out I’m Michelle the noise maker, the life of the party. Defense mechanism perhaps but I find my strength in laughter. When it pains, I laugh. When it hurts, I laugh. When I’m clueless, I laugh. When I’m sad, when I’m low, when things aren’t right, I laugh.

Then I get to the place where I’m ‘all laughed out’. I hate this place coz I’ve run out of camouflage. So I run, as fast and as far as my gingerbread legs can carry me I run. I run because I can see challenges that I’m not ready to face without my laugh. I’m afraid to fail, afraid of flaws, afraid that I don’t have the strength to keep up the appearances. I run and go back to my part time job in the construction industry. I go back to building my walls. Each day, theres a new brick. Slowly I build these walls hoping to keep the audience out. I switch off my phone, I disappear. I run. Yet, I’m always secretly hoping that some external factor will bring these walls down…

Yes, my life’s a struggle. I usually have great seasons then something happens. *Insert nose-dive here* I got born-again in 2006, the walk has mostly been great. Its something I’ve always wanted to ‘WIN’ at. There came the bumps and each time there seems to be a bigger bump ahead of me.I realize that even as a child of God its not an assurance for a drama free life. Still, I’ve felt the need to keep up appearances and I realized that I was gonna lose at the ‘appearances game’ so I figured..why walk the straight and narrow and lose? I didn’t want any embarrassment, So I chose to just live, get by.I chose something easy, coz I could win.

Just living, made me happy but just for a little while. We can say I ‘dumped’ God. I dumped the one who gave His son for me. I gave in to my struggles in a bid not to deal with my struggles. I dumped the gift He gave me, built those walls to keep out the people He put in my life… Same old tactics! Luckily, the God I dumped doesn’t call me His ex-child. He hasn’t disowned. The God I dumped found me behind those walls.

Here I am, not keeping up appearances. I struggle with sin and I struggle to live the Christian life.I have my physical, mental and social struggles.This sometimes makes me feel like a lower caste Christian. The truth is I sometimes wonder if I’ll fight this good fight to the end. I don’t want to lose. I want to win. I have hope, I have prayer, I have the Holy Spirit and I have the church. I can win.My God knows me intimately and accepts me despite my failings.

You know what, the devil is a liar. He makes you feel like you need to build those walls. He tells you to stay away coz God isn’t interested in your sinning self. God is always interested in you coz He made you for Himself.

I need to remember these struggles are for a reason, maybe one day I’ll be able to help someone going through the same. Through these struggles may my God be glorified.May my struggles draw me closer to God and keep me relying on God. My struggles are a way for God to mold me.My struggles will direct me towards the throne of Grace instead of away from it. I shouldn’t run.

If I wanna live by my own strength, I’m set up to lose. If I live by God’s strength I am destined to win. Yes I’m gonna make it.

Here’s a song I wrote a little while ago. You may have already heard it on the OPEN HEAVENS MIXTAPE from the MadLove Lounge.  Strugglin features my friend BlackSkillz. I remember, I was really down the day I had this session and wrote the song.I almost didn’t show up but I made my way to the “Mixtape Session”.I hid my pain well and to many people, it was just a song but it was my story at that point in time and I’m glad I wrote it.

You must be mad!

Madness oh madness

That is what I suffer from.This madness is nothing like we know it. I require not the confines of a mental institution yet I am as mad as they come. Neither drugs nor tranquilizers can heal me or offer me peace of mind because my madness is the type that cant be diagnosed yet it sets me apart from the ‘sane’ ones.You must be wondering where I’m going with this. Well, I’ll make it clear in just a little bit but before I do I’d like to declare to you that you may just be as mad as I am.

There those things we do, those situations that we always find ourselves in. Those dead ends, that pain, that heartache, that friend, that bar, that drink… Different days, same scenario..some say same sh*!, different days.

In our ‘post match analysis’ you and I always make the vow to NEVER go down a certain road again. How lovely? Yes, its lovely until you find yourself going down the same same boulevard, in the same old clothes destined for the same old pain and regrets. All in all… It is a stupid cycle. Its not vicious..we’re not cursed, we’re just stupid..in a nutshell we’re mad. Did I just hurl insults? Not really..I’m calling it like it is. This is because madness is really doing the same things over and over expecting different results.

I realise that I must do things differently if I’m to rid myself of all the madness. No drugs, no therapy can cure me and you my friend must realise the same.
Knowledge and application are two different things. Well, I know the things I need to change..Hold my hand dear friend and lets bid this madness goodbye. I was created for greater, it’s time I started acting like it.

**This post was originally published on Facebook by Michelle Michelle TheBrand on 25th October 2011**

The goose is getting fat

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat.

Please put a penny in the old man’s hat.

If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do.

If you haven’t got a ha’penny God bless you.

At one point in my early years, I had to learn this song. It was the scariest song, I’d ever heard yet it was connected to my favorite time of the year. The opening line declared that Christmas was on its way and was the perfect way to say goodbye to November. Enter December, I had all the ‘Christmassy’ things to look forward to. The change of atmosphere in the neighborhood was always evident, even the water tasted different. There were parties practically every weekend in December. Every visit to the city centre was made complete by the sight of ridiculously disproportionate Santas stationed at various shop entrances. Most of these shops had amateurishly painted windows and exaggerated displays yet this only built up my Christmas cheer.

Our house always got expertly decked out. Cartons of tinsel and crepe paper would find their way out of storage. As a child, I always thought that elves came to decorate the house but I later discovered that the elves were actually my elder sisters. Before I knew it, I was ‘the elf’.The best part of my ‘elfin’ duties was putting the star on the Christmas tree. It always felt like such an accomplishment. Come to think of it, it was!

Only when the tree was in place did the presents start piling. Everyday they’d be a few more. I’d take them, shake them, press them real hard in an attempt to figure out what was in each box. I had this little notebook where I’d keep count of how many presents everyone was getting.  This was a sign that Christmas was coming. On the night before Christmas, I’d leave out cookies and milk for Santa. Since our house didn’t have a chimney, I always left the dining room window open for St. Nicholas to squeeze in.(I later found out that my mum doubled up as Santa)

Christmas morning would be the same every year. A huuuuuuuuuge Chocolate Cake and the finest things were always laid out for breakfast. I’d open my presents and let the day morph into whatever it wanted. There was no goose, no old man and no ha’penny.

(Somewhere along the way, the delightful feelings about Christmas have been replaced with ‘Oh-No-Not-Again’ feelings.)

Nevertheless, Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat!