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!

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!!

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!

Soccer Shmoccer… Let’s play!!

Where do I begin? I plan to complete this blog in 90 mins flat. No extra time because I’m writing about soccer and no injury time because I am not planning on breaking a nail as I type.

If only the soccer balls were this cute!!

Ok Soccer, what do I know? At least I’m clear on the fact that a soccer match is not what lights up a stadium (NKT me if you like). There are eleven men each side, I’m not sure how many substitutes and definitely a ball. There’s also lots of money involved. Sometimes I cant help thinking soccer is like slave trade coz I’ll hear a random player’s name and then an obsecene amount of money. Speaking of which, why do teams trade their players? I mean, if a certain player is so good. WHY ARE YOU GIVING HIM UP???

Haha..yes I’m laughing coz I’m not sure what the difference is between Man City and Man U. Are they on the same side or? (Disclaimer: These are genuine questions.)

There exists the Premier league and UEFA cup. What’s their story? World Cup-that one I understand. Once every four years, it’s like the Olympics for soccer, right? Speaking of which, there must be soccer in the Olympics. So my point is that FIFA(yes I know that one) should just collabo with the Olympics guys and have the World Cup during the Olympics. Save water, save electricity and save the planet.

I used to hear of David Beckham, where did he go? Can I safely assume that he I still married to Posh Spice? Its funny how most people I know are crazy about one team or the other.  Arsenal, Man U, Chelsea, Liverpool. These could be one and the same team to me for all I care. All the supporters should check out http://www.itsjustagame.com (yes the webpage actually exists).In the same news, I can’t believe how people are able to cut short their earth journeys for the sake of a team. Like really? Suicidal fans, surely!! Smh, very, very SMH!!

Soccer  is a foreign concept to me. This game in which a handful of men run around for one and a half hours watched by millions of people who could really use the exercise. The pitch kinda looks like a hockey pitch and I’m proud to say that because I played hockey I can tell you what the offside rule is. Ok I cant really tell but I understand it. I hope that counts for something (On my league table hahahaha)

Everyday

Almost everyday, I wake up with a plan. I know what I want to achieve and how to get around it. I’m not a morning person and I struggle just to get my eyelids open. But when I eventually get round to it, I embrace that plan.

 

I hate conversation in the mornings and stick to one-word answers. Well, that’s just who I am. I can never pick out my clothes the day before. I have days when all my clothes seem ugly to me and other days, I’m spoilt for choice.

 

Once I get past my morning blues, I’m ready to face the day. I’m ready to make things happen. Funny but on most days, it seems that the elements are working hard to see me have an unsuccessful day. If it’s not this, it’s the other. Traffic, Power blackouts, scorching sun, dropped calls, lousy internet, bad friends, a running nose and maybe just maybe a lost purse.

 

Some days, I push past the elements but on other days I let them get the best of me. Yes, I said I let them. I accept the weariness, the fatigue and slouch back and watch the day go by. I do have a choice. Well, sometimes I make the wrong choices knowing very well that I have ventured one step further from that thing we call excellence.

 

I’m only human, my cells need to grow. My skin needs to replace itself..yakkedy shmakkeddy. I could go on. I’ve already concluded my story when I agreed that I have a choice. I can push on in spite of the elements. Life happens so I need to happen right back. Some things about me like the fact that I hate conversation in the mornings are all good but I cant let the elements get the best of me. I need to rise up early to beat the traffic. I must find other things to do when there is no electricity ( agood old book never hurt anyone) I can get some sunscreen before I step into the scorching sun. A pair of stunners would be brilliant. I can get a life beyond Social Media (OMG, LOL) I can still love the bad friends or … hmmmm let’s just stick at loving them. An apple a day wont be a bad idea, anything to keep th sniffles way. Yes… I could go shopping and replace that lost purse.

 

When all is said and blogged, life aint that bad. Actually life is beautiful. I’ll probably stay up watching a movie, struggle waking up in the morning and do this all again tomorrow. Difference is… I’ll love the day, I’ll love the elements and yes, yes, yes, I will love you!

 

140 characters Part 1

I am sure that I’m special. A rare breed. Unique.

I bet you’re wondering why I’ve chosen to describe myself as such but hey, don’t worry. We’re both sailing in the same boat. (173 characters)

 

I started this blog late last year. Oh I was almost on a roll. Then two or three days later, I ran out of things to say. Neatly put, I lost the psyche to type. (164 characters)

 

Maybe Social Media has spoilt me. I’ve learnt that I can quickly ‘tweet’ something in less than 140 characters and within seconds I have my responses. Brevity? Is that the new name of the game or am I just lazy. (211 characters)

 

Ok, I’ll settle for a little bit of both. I have learnt to express myself in the 140 characters a tweep is meant to embrace. I have learnt that I do not have to type a composition (like in high school) to impress anyone. I just need to get my point across. Yet, I still feel the need to downplay my expounding on what I need to say. You see, there’s a depth that I cant achieve in 140 characters . Things that I can’t say. Tales that I can’t tell. For situations like these I have taught myself to ‘serial tweet’. That has slowly become one of my favourite activities and it leaves me on a high.(583 characters)

 

So I’m a little bit confused and sadly the world wide web continues to exist.

 

Seeing that I have not lost my ability to type. I hope that I will get back to blogging. Get back to letting you into my world.(I’m giving you an inch, don’t take a mile).

 

So to all the people who have time to ‘tweet’ and no time to blog. We’re special. We are that rare breed. Unique. NOT.