How I was on holiday.

I hardly ever go on holiday,first because the ATM laughs when I ask for a loan second all the R&R itches. It’s a shame but I am the anxious kind that doesn’t sleep soundly unless it’s on my desk, pen in hand and head on the keyboard (feel free to confuse this with industriousness). I only remember two ‘successful’ vacations where I had fun: Camping in Naivasha because it was a convenient 3 days buzzing with activities; arrive on a Friday afternoon, peach tents and bond with team, work the following day, ditch team and party till dawn with strange campers (wild KQ flight attendants; very good memories of Ms.Martini-ed meeting Mr.Martin). Sunday: Mini-hike, sample great cuisines, shop for souvenirs, visit to the spa, take pictures and sleep all the way back home.

Shortest holiday ever, Mombasa ’08: footloose and fancy free, end of exams, nursing a breaking heart, blotto- 7 days straight! Between one Wednesday and the other I remember three things: Blinding music and blaring lights, drinks and tattoos, hookahs and BEEEEAACHHes + stolen moments. Only one negative thing: someone swapped my ATM card with a bagful of beachwear that I never wear!

Recently it so happened that I had a change of jobs (again), at my age and with a devil-may-care attitude occupation-status change before you can say Jack Robinson. Betwixt clearing from one and reporting for the other, a week of being glued-to-the-couch-purposeless emerged. To many this would be perfect time for a holiday and that’s why I welcomed it arms wide open. This time nothing from the Wild West, just I and Mr. Couch, a stack of movies, face-book, a real-book, PS, quick stop at the salon and lots of dessert (Thanks to all the celebrating Leos). Seriously, without desserts there would be darkness and chaos.

I had doubts I would last the week, but drinks with Steve, the twins’ birthday, Karaoke with Ben, endless phone convos with Tim (about his real vacation in Maui) made it bearable. Body is all rested -almost developing bed sores-mind is fresh, and morale is high.

Tomorrow it’s back to the grind and I am not too sad.

These words were mine.

After I started on this blog; about all the songs I know word for word, I had an after- thought: how lame is that, no one will ever read it, and then I got this inspired notion… all the lyrics I know by heart I know for a reason, never mind the magnitude. Some I fell in love to, some I broke my heart to, some I just memorized while others I want to play on my wedding day (If that ever happens. I took a quiz on facebook that said I’ll get hitched at forty, drat! The future is bleak.)
I always say what a hopeless-romantic I am and this article might just be the demo :D. The words in these lyrics were pulled right out of my mouth.

PS: I was too lazy to download the original lyrics so I just wrote them as they sound in my head.

This first song is how I want my husband to love me. Not that I am married or anything, though I have this WEIRD feeling that I will, one day (at forty or thereabout) to a handsome man of average height whose name will be Thompson. He will be an older man in his early 70s, hale and hearty , full of life, bursting with mirth, wise as a sage, sexy as fcuk and of Italian origin (hopefully, so I can name our daughter Italia, live in Italy and have lots of Tiramisu). How deluded I must sound :)
Give it up for, Brad Paisely with “Then” or I thought I loved you then (!?)

I remember trying not to stare the night that I first I met you/ you had me mesmerized
And three weeks later on the front poach light/ taking 45 minutes to kiss goodnight
I hadn’t told you: that I thought I loved you then

Now you are my whole life/ now you are my whole world
I just can’t believe, the way I feel about you girl
Like a river meets the sea, stronger than it’s ever been
We’ve come so far since that day and I thought I loved you then

I remember taking you back to right where I first met you/ you were so surprised
There were people around but I didn’t care/I got down on one knee right there
And once again I thought I loved you then

I can just see you with a baby on the way/ I can just see you when your hair is turning grey
What I can’t see is how I’m ever gonna love you more/ But I have said that before
We’ll look back some day at this moment that we are in and I’ll look at you and say:
And I thought I loved you then.
********************************
At least every little girl I know has that little neighbor boy Keeve or Nash or Nazeel or Baus or Robin or Fidel who made her little heart thump fast, the one you couldn’t explain what you felt for coz they pushed you hard to the ground and ignored you all in the name of love. Yes the one you’d never admit to liking and would go to great pains to stay away from lest the entire class/ neighborhood started on the dreaded never-ending chorus “Stacy has a boyfriend”. The one who would make you run for the school bus to catch the seat next to his favorite so your hands would touch every time the driver hit the brakes.

With time these little boys grow up, Nazeel turns out to be that local drug dealer that no mother wants near their children and you wipe your brow and say “phewks, dodged bullet.” Baus being Baus and Hindu becomes very hard to relate to, what with everyone prophesying how you’ll never be married let alone live happily ever after. Inside, you’re glad he has a spine and is willing to fight for your love but slowly he folds along conventional lines and while at some far off boarding school ditches you for a certain Punjab girl. You are pleased to hear they didn’t last long.

Keeve turns out to be that asshole that sent you that ONE love letter in high school, poem in tow, professing his undying love only to hear that Madea and Lornah got copies as well, how special!

Fidel doesn’t get much of an education and ends up in the police department. You thank your lucky stars for his lack of ambition when you are charged with a DUI and he comes to your rescue. At the next ‘babes gone wild’ you offer to be the designated drunk driver. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Robin, the one who got away, matures into the typical knight in shining Armani but disappears into thin air right before you lay your hands on him, no one knows his whereabouts and neither facebook nor the obituaries can confirm his existence.
This following song captures the air around my Nash who grew up to be this genius of a guy and even though it didn’t quite work out, I like how warm and electric it feels when we meet.

Love story by Taylor Swift
…See you make your way through the crowd and say hello
Little did I know that you were Romeo
You were throwing pebbles and my daddy said stay away from Juliet
And I was crying on the staircase begging you please don’t go
And I say Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone
I’ll be waiting, all we got to do is run
You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess
This is a love story baibe just say yes.

I got tired of waiting wondering if you were ever coming around
My faith in you was fading, when I met you on the outskirts of town
And I said Romeo save me I’ve been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you but you never come
Is this in my head, I know what you’re thinking knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said
Marry me Juliet you never have to be alone I love you and that’s all I really know
I talked to your dad go pick out a white dress this is a love story baibe just say yes.
**** Cont'd...

Madly, Crazy, Helplessly in search I.

Its been months since I've had any romantic activity which explains the long abscence of posts, partly I've been busy; glad to report that career front is doing good what with potential employers responding to my resume with words such as "impressive" and me phone buzzing incessantly with strange callers and emails inviting me for interviews or seeking more details about my experience. Largely however, I have been pretending not to look for love in the hope that it finds me instead :-D. So between lots of travelling on the job, our overall boss being fired for embezzlement and trying to fix my hair I have had interesting parties (most memorable- Vicars and Tarts), met interesting people and had several backfired attempts at romance.

Where to begin?

Jon the banker


On my way to make bookings for a training we had I bumped into a guy on the parking lot of the hotel who warmly said hello and got my attention. Not wanting to chance losing a possible love of my life I hunt him down through contacts and 2 months later, voila! As fate would have it Jon the banker and I had a major fall out on the very day we meet (something to do with me being overexcitedly crazy and him wondering who sent this lunatic my way) I am not sure I will ever be able to use over the counter services at the bank ever, forever condemned to ATMs.

Leonardo the Presbyterian.

In part the Vicars and Tarts cocktail is still fresh in my mind because a certain Mr. Leonardo intrigued me soooo much I had to lie about myself, well at first it went well as it made for good conversation and being a costume party you would get away with lots of white lies. HECK he was a presbyterian and I a whore (!), I obviously didn't get the cue to drop the fantasy-living when we started discussing our interests and began showing our motorbike survival scars. I never had a fatal motorbike accident until that night :-D oh and I had a deathly scar to show for it, oops! is that the scar I got from a twig scratch when I was ten playing hide and seek? My bad. As you may have guessed the lies didn't last long enough to have phone numbers exchanged and if they did I doubt he'd call. Fair enough!

After recovering from the humiliating banker-moments and the presbyterian cock-up I vow never to make the first move, I'll leave the hunting to men as nature intended, sit pretty and play easy prey :-)

Antonio the journalist


I have to admit, being hunted is such a sweet (victorious even) feeling ...only when the hunter is something you'd be remotely interested in. I can't believe I drove 20 minutes in the middle of the night risking it all to meet a Rick-Ross look a like, Gawd! what was I thinking?!It however wasn't a total loss as I ended up liking his friend more and driving back that night I was glad Antonio went into all the trouble to find my number and win himself a mid-night date, thats how I want to be hunted :-)

The Monday that killed the weekend.

I have on my coffee table a 200pg report that needs not only to be read and understood but also to be analyzed. On my desktop sits a folder full of raw information begging to be thoroughly read, organized and summarized into a 3 page dossier on a subject I would normally care less about (Anthrax). On my office desk at work lays a 13page report needing to be typed by yours truly. Strewn on my dirty beige carpet are newspaper clippings of job-adverts with just around the corner deadlines. Somewhere on this couch, trapped between my bony bottom and the cushion is my mobile phone incessantly buzzing and trilling; messages to be replied, phone calls to be returned , emails to be read and reminders either to do this or that. On my kitchen table is a pile of bills all calling for some kind of attention which I can’t look into right now because as you may well know bills come in before the check from your employer. Why is that anyway? I’m sure the universe has an explanation.


All of the above messy shyt needs to be sorted by Monday; that is the day after tomorrow and that is also why I am home at 10a.m, in pajamas on a bright sunny Saturday! Normally, I would be out riding in an old, small but amazing Suzuki with my new friend Chuck (who thinks driving at 140kph on a wet road without safety belts is pretty adventurous- I agree) or out in the market trying my hand at the grocery business or whatever it is organized people do over the weekend. However, its urgent that I put my life together or soon you’ll be hearing from an in-between-jobs-30-year-old who lives with her mother!


Procrastination is one of my numerous impediments to a joyous weekend and the reason I have the 200pg report I borrowed from a private library 2 weeks ago in order to be well prepared for an assignment coming up soon and probably the reason I am writing this unimpressive article just to avoid looking into the report. I need to be well read not so much because I love working on projects I know nothing about but because I need the remuneration to offset the above mentioned bills. That I am jobless is the reason I am unable to pay my bills and the reason you will read this and other articles long after they were written seeing as my internet connection was recently disconnected (just incase you were wondering, it was a staggering amount, that my monthly allowance couldn’t easily offset).


Regarding the 13pg typing job; this is my lame attempt at being likeable at the office so I take up the typing job though I know I’ll be unable to finish it because I am already swamped. Why I would do that is because I am aiming at Intern-of-the-year award, we are talking future prospects. What are the chances they will miss me after I am gone? Miss me so much that when I throw in an application for a job the boss will rule in favour of, yes, me! Ok that is my game plan, which officially renders me a buttpecker! No other way.


So now to the 3pg-Anthrax-dosier, well, that is supposed to sort out another aspect of my life which I tend to ignore but is equally important seeing as I don’t want to end up as the old-cat-lady who left ALL her wealth (don’t forget hard earned from a successful career) to her 67 assortment of cats (I hate cats and reptiles, mostly reptiles). Well, not a single dime to charity because she is bitter at her choices; strange how this epiphany comes at a point where she can do absolutely nothing to the situation! Ok, back to the point, Anthrax! I mean Chuck, this nice awesome guy I met a while ago, and I know I said he is my friend but that’s what he thinks I have a different strategy. Don’t give me that look; it’s hard to find love. Sometimes it calls for one to create a situation for love to happen. Shoot! Now I sound like the women who trap men, whatever! Story for another day.


And that brings us to the abrupt and untimely end of this funeral, R.I.P Mr.This Weekend, you will be missed. Hope to catch your bro Mr. Next Weekend, I have a good feeling *wink*.

Ps: This post was unearthed from my offline blog. Dated October 24th 2009. FYI: I have become more organised (the magic, as i found out is not in being less engaged, it is in not procrastinating) and Chuck turned out to be sadly, a JERK! yeah.

Let's get retarded.

Only a retard would think like this!


See they always tell you to be and think positive, about everything whether good or bad. So for a long time it was hard for me to do the positive thing and I would wallow in self pity for days on end with absolutely no effort to pick myself up. Over the years though, I met people who have marveled me with their almost miraculous ability to bring themselves up even after life-changing things happen to them. While I was busy being there for them mopping and being sad, they were lifting their spirits and turning their misery around. In no time I was the one caught up in their past while they had long moved on (how ironical). In the recent past quite a number of things have gone awry (so much for being a staunch control freak) and in the process shook a lot of things I have based my faith and basically my whole life on. Normally when such things happen you kinda get depressed and become a loser or you take what life throws at you and make lemonade as they put it.

This time round, instead of slipping into depression I decided to try this positive approach/law of attraction thingy just to see if it works and prove them wrong, so I told myself. Truth is I was desperate for anything that would make it better and from my interaction with people I knew better than to allow myself to sink into the deep seas of misery. Let’s take a look at how it worked for me:

Were it not for the strike that my university had, I would not have been home for four months looking for attachment/internship, I would never have gone to the many firms I went to job hunting only for them to decline my request prompting me to seek work at this other org which I was sure would never have taken me in since it was a satellite office working on a new project that I knew absolutely nothing about. *breathe* As you may have gathered, after a few cancelled meetings I was able to get in-touch with some fellow from the office who felt his docket could use an assistant and that is how I landed my internship.

It later turned out that the guy who helped me get my internship did not do it in accordance to the laid down procedure and was thus at loggerheads with the overall boss leading to my state of uncertainty which also made me push my alleged supervisor to formalize my internship or else I would just quit (not like that would in anyway affect him but it felt good to let him know that I will not be used; not to say he wasn’t using me already). Him taking his sweet time to sort out the issue led me into doing some other application which led me to some office which I was later so grateful I went to, not that I got the job but I sort of scored in another area of my life that needed a little fixing so to speak, I have been single for the past two years! If that doesn’t qualify for/as chronic singlehood I don’t know what does!

I guess what I’m trying to say is; I ‘think’ I met a guy who is making me very happy! No details, besides the fact that we are taking it slow and that it feels really good to have someone I can talk to and who most importantly thinks I am funny. I might have not mentioned this before but I am very insecure about what people think about me, big problem if they think I am not funny! What good am I if I can’t make you laugh? My stint as the entertainment captain/comedian in high school is definitely to blame. Anyone who doesn’t laugh at my jokes is perceived as an unpleasant authority, courtesy of my dad who thinks my kind of funny is rather unfunny, oh well, he doesn’t know what he is missing. Whatever happened in his childhood to make him that way is beyond me.

Ps: I dug out this blog from my archived- offline blogs. It was dated, July 2009. 8 months down the line and he still laughs at my jokes, FYI.

TELLING IT AS IT IS- The Electra Complex.

I am going to begin by declaring that I am an optimist in every sense of the word and that I know of individuals in relationships that are not headed anywhere; they have so much faith in themselves, their partners and their unions that they believe everything is possible (first, lets agree that according to nature, not everything is possible irrespective of the numerous possibilities in existence) and that one day things would change for the better. What these people will learn later (others when it’s too late) is that things may never change in the union but that doesn’t necessarily mean that things in their love life will never take a positive turn. Often people miss this point by tying themselves down to one person and one situation without exploring other options. That is where we fail.

Please do not get me wrong, I am not saying take to the hills at the slightest sign of trouble, no. Stick it out if you have to but be wise and flexible enough to pin point a good deal or when you are being taken for a ride. Trust me, it’s for your own good that you keep evaluating your union and be open enough to self criticize while at it- it’s quite healthy to kill the ‘you’ that stops you from growing.
If you are one of those people who posses faith that moves mountains I do not blame you… hope is very important in life and love –so it’s allowed. Now, as much as it’s ok to believe that things will be ok we also have to be critical and level headed when we approach certain things especially those whose consequences we have to live with for a long time.

My friend Lucas was beginning to wear me out with his never-ending tales of brawls with his girlfriend of two years, so I decided to take up the matter seriously and for the first time stop pretending to care and actually try to help. I am not by any qualifications or otherwise a relationships or marriage counselor but as a friend it is expected of me (more like an obligation) to be there as the shoulder he can freely cry on and as his eyes... maybe because love is blind, I don’t know. Of course this was against my policy of ‘non-interference’ when it comes to lovebirds, but I did it anyway… if only to save my besotted friend from the misery that is his love life. Talk of trying to save a sinking ship! I see you raising your eyebrow and wondering out loud what kind of a pal I am, well, I am the good kind, you’ll see why.

This twosome doesn’t seem to get along at all and in my quiet moments I cannot help but wonder how they found each other let alone what the attraction was, its however irrelevant to the direction we are steering to so lets drop it for now. I never really liked the girl but not like it matters because I am being totally unbiased here (really). Believe me when I say this chic is strangely out of kilter and from her account of her six previous relationships its hard to tell why she never once found a relationship she could settle for. Its just amazing how they keep fighting… day in day out and most astonishing is the things they come to blows over… small things! I mean, why should we slap each other with the ‘cold treatment’ for days on end just because I won’t place the socks in the laundry basket or because I didn’t arrive home at exactly half past five as agreed. As if my boss or the traffic jam cares why I have to be home on time. So the story that broke the Carmel’s back (I being Carmel) is when Lucas came to me in tears recounting how Sarah won’t stop making crazy demands on him and he didn’t know how to make it stop, “She puts curfews on me, forbids me to be with my friends and family!” we have to agree that people who won’t let you socialize have some very serious issues (high levels of insecurity, low self-esteem, poor communication skills…list is endless.) “Even worse, nothing I do is ever good enough,” he sobbed.

As at now my friend is a very frustrated man more so because he doesn’t seem to understand the ‘love-of-his-life’… boy clearly didn’t do his homework before investing in the union.
In my search for un-warlike means to bring and keep this loving duo together once and for all I came across a very strange but common phenomena advanced by one Carl Jung, who from Freud’s theory of the Oedipus complex advanced a concept known as the Bernfield factor or the Electra complex. As documented and agreed upon by experts in Psychology; a strong and consistent male presence in a girl’s life has a significant effect on her self esteem. Feeling attractive and loved by “daddy” (or other strong male figure) can help a girl have more confidence and strength. Of course the vice-versa applies. Without that, girls may express daddy issues in seeking out father figures, or placing even very good men with whom they are in relationship, in positions that they really can’t adequately fill. Bingo!

From this profound piece of information I found the disease that was slowly eating up my friend without his knowledge or the girlfriend’s for that matter. So this chic was unknowingly dissatisfied and was seeking to fill whatever gap his father left. On impulse I was about to call my friend and say quit the relationship and find yourself a less burdened individual but then I sympathized with the chic as she too was in the dark. So, I have made a arrangements for them to see a counselor in the hope that they find themselves and hopefully resolve their issues. There are two outcomes here and I do not want to speculate the more likely one.

Are you are the girlfriend everyone seems to be avoiding? You constantly find yourself trapped in unhealthy relationships with men and cannot figure out why? Well, its time to board memory-train back into the past, critically examine your relationship with your father or the dominant male figure in your life and find out if you suffer from the Electra complex.

This month, I trust you will be able to say goodbye to relationships that are long dead or just damaged beyond repair, challenge is, can you identify one?

Hot Secrets: THE REAL DEAL ON THE ERIC-SHEBA-VALERIE LOVE TRIANGLE

Hot Secrets: THE REAL DEAL ON THE ERIC-SHEBA-VALERIE LOVE TRIANGLE