AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrh!

Your sister graduated? Send my condolences.
Well, I have been learning Malay, it is part of my survival strategy. It hasn’t been going all well since I have been learning for all sources, from the Indonesia workers who clean our Condo, from the Vietnamese guy who always takes the bus the same time as me, from Chinese and Indian Malays, and from a Kamus Bestari I bought and sometimes online. So the pronunciations don’t necessarily agree.
I haven’t tried to tell anyone congratulations because the word for that is similar to the word for condolences, that is tahniah and takziah and I can’t tell the difference.
After almost a year, or like mama says(almost more than a year) I’m finally falling into a pace I can cope with.
A few days ago I bought some shampoo. My friend said anything with Tea-tree in it wouldn’t make my hair fall out. So I went did a round in all the beauty shops and I got it. Shokubutsu, a Japanese wash . I came home and tried it, then after two days I remembered, my friend had said Tea-tree not green tea, but what to do I already bought it I might as well, and I don’t really mind the smell and since not much hair fell out Shokubutsu is the way forward I should think. I also managed to find some lotion called the fruit of the earth Aloe Vera, and remembered reading on some site that aloe vera is good for African skin, but maybe it might have been olive oil, I’m not sure, anyway I liked nice blue of the lid on the bottle and the smell is tasty somehow.
Shamara said I should use baby oil on my face, and I have used it for a week now, no complains. It seems I might not get melonama after all.
The semester was my worst. Not in terms of the classes and all, most of my classes were interesting - we watched a load of movies or debated. I had trouble with one class though-The Film Class, man that was out of this world. It was to be a fave, at first, and I spent a lot of time reading and reviewing and just getting familiar but when they marked the story board and my movie journals. It came to me, I was not made for this. I tell a good story, but doesn’t mean I know w here to place the camera,,,and that’s why I always liked still pictures, which I still do, it’s just that my camera charger blew, and the camera caught a virus and I have taken the worst pictures in my history of picture taking these last months I don’t even want to look at them. My computer crushed on me, month ago, I lost my home pictures and some of my writings. Clearly, this school year was not a good start, I was distracted, tried to sleep it off, tried to stare it out, sit it out, learnt to eat noodles for supper...….it persisted.

But I can’t keep quiet about the fact that THAT, was the best class ever.
p.s
It was also amazing how everyone assisted everyone when we had to make the story board? In 5 minutes I had a whole cast ready to go with props and site, a director, cameraman and everyone else.

end of an anchor

If you have watched BOLT . You know that part where Bold is hanging Mittens from a fly-over and he says :

‘You just can’t stop lying , can you cat? It’s in the genes. You’re just gross,’ and Mittens replies

‘I know, I’m disgusting, I disgust myself.’

It’s one of my favourite part, I can relate to it. Well, I don’t disgust myself all the time but sometimes I’m concerned. Well, today I rejoined facebook, after deactivating my account coz it was taking too much of time, blah blah, but my camera’s charger blew so I can’t take pictures to post on flickr, and icanhascheezburger.com doesn’t jazz me much me these days , my friends no longer reply to e-mails, yeah, they want to write on my wall… and with school closed, I need an addiction, seriously, otherwise I’ll burn my eyes with the pile of books I have been meaning to read or rot my eyes with animations.

So after canceling a trip with my friends to watch The Transformers, I just couldn’t peel myself off my chair. I have this bag I’m making and it’s the most complicated thing I’ve made in a long time and the thought of taking 3 buses and a monorail to (KL)Kuala Lumpur didn’t sit well with me so I canceled, and my friends called me and expressed sadness for my absence. I went and watched a basketball match but couldn’t concentrate because they were wearing too much red. I was hoping to catch my favourite team which plays like mad squakes. I donno what than means but I mean to say the play so quickly it gives you a rush. They are mostly short and one team wears brown the other blue. It’s a mix of Chinese and one Indian, one African guy. I love that game it goes like an advert for NBA. The Indian guy scores everytime.

Yesterday I was to meet some of my friends for a swim and half an hour before leaving the house I changed my mind, yeah, the bus thing again. I hate the buses, it should take me 20 minutes but it takes me 3 hours t get to Puchong. I got a room in Puchong last week but before I couldn’t move in the owner’s daughter decided she wasn’t in favour and I was so bombed I slept until 8 a.m, East African time. My fault, Cyberia is land's end.

So I will try to be more systematic, and learn to appreciate things like facebook and sociality, and maybe my insomnia will reduce.

Nothing Said

It’ s true we don’t see each other any more.
It’s obvious I’m out of site.
But don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel?
Will you deny the pulsations of your heart when;
My name’s mentioned, when someone wears my perfume-
Don’t you call me ‘ my friend’ to your friends?

It’s understandable, I left without much ado,
It’s true I paid Lewinsky more attention
We laughed and shook hands for long.
Didn’t you see my body language?
My shoulder turned towards you,
I played with a curl behind my ear.
When you see Lewinsky. Don’t you remember me?
Do you fix a smile when someone mentions me?

It’s no secret I am awkward and unfiltered.
Feigning confidence a little girl’s ways , a little girl’s manner;
Spilling drink on my shirt and calling
A Chair ,a share, well,
Didn’t you smile politely every time?
Did you perhaps wish I was refined or did you secretly like my raw quirks?
Do you wish I may not change?

It’s true I have a past, yeah, so much history
Would you be hesitant to explore
Or should it recede and be ignored so that,
We might make our own?
Did it hold you back?
Would you rather start on fresh fields?
Do the stories you hear make sense?
Do you wish to ask me? Talk to me?
What is it you searched in my eyes.

It’s true I don’t hide it anymore.
Do you wonder what’s my prob?
Do you wish I’d slow down?
Do you know how it all started out?
When we became aware of each other?
Are there memories engraved within you like in me?
Are there cherished moments I’ve overlooked?
Like when our hands touched and our eyes,,,,, we looked away.

But I have never felt such a staring.
Do you wonder if that’s all?



1>(No, I’m not writing love poems again. This one is dated 28th October 2009. Guess it must have had something to do with me leaving my old surroundings. But I assure you this is not about my cat-pushkin alias kinyau alias pusspuss alias we alias(can’t rem the Spanish name mother calls her)
2>(I’ve used this pic coz It has the most views on flickr, kinda sets the mood if anyone is interested in what I have to say.)

Ngahika Ndeenda

I knew all my friends would get married before me, except one, but she recently told me she thinks she might have met –the one- so anytime I should be hearing wedding bells, and out of the crowd, I’ll be the last woman standing.

My other friend is getting married in November, and I feel terrible that I might not attend the wedding. See, we talked about it long and wide,, I was going to be a maid, and we would not wear all those fake silk lilac dresses, we would go full kitenge all the way to the evening party. I imagined taking pictures in her wedding, maybe packing her bags for the honey moon. I couldn’t sleep when she sent the text, I thought in all directions; should I get a job, do the Nigerian connection, marry some rich dude quick so that he can buy me a flight to attend the wedding. , then I thought maybe I should do a refresher course for my sewing skills and design and stitch her wedding gown, send it as a surprise. Then I thought maybe I should just keep saving(yeah yeah) and maybe by November I might be able to send her a cheque for her cake if not a one night stay at a hotel for the honey moon, then I narrowed it down to knock off earings at Petaling street.

It’s funny, So far, my age mates have kids in upper primary, most of them are married, but I keep running if I could call it that, telling myself I still can’t cook chapatti and Iron shirt corners so, why even look at a guy. Today, my other friend really entertained me. She has met – the one-

‘Man! You should meet him. When I met him, I tell you Cecilia, I bowed.’

‘And when he passed by and checked me out I tell you Cecilia, he bowed, believe me’

Ok, I was laughing too much before I got her point. So she explained. The guy stands out in a crowd, he is respectable, he knows how to dress properly, and he carries himself around like he owns the place.’ I tell you Cecilia, if you don’t respect the guy you marry, that’s trouble and if you don’t click’{showing me , if you don’t click right away…aa ..there’s nothing there}

Lew; yet another friend, his last single friend married last December, and two of his close friends are raising 3 month olds. He told me the other day he’s going out of his mind, and I joked maybe we should just marry each other, since our crowd paired out and we are the two left standing, though it would be like marrying a cousin.

So I’ve been thinking that maybe I should bring my age limit down a bit, from the number that the bowing friend says- ati what age Cecilia, who’ll look at you ?’

But I was thinking about it seriously again my friend-told me the other day-You know, you loose 5000 brain cells each day when you reach twenty. And I thought,well, multiply that by 12 years and see, when I 'm 32, there will be no point in marrying another fool.

(not sure how many thousands,All numbers sound the same to me so, she might have meant 10,000 or a hundred)

(the title is adopted from Ngugi wa Thiongo's title- in Kikuyu and English- I will marry when I want-)

This is my house, No it's mine, no no this is my house

Don't Worry About A Thing

Who is –AThing?

Some guy.

Dresses very badly, don’t mind him

Sweaters and cowboy boots

A big hat like a fisherman’s

And he likes to eat boiled carrots

Oh yeah, carries them in a small polythene bag in his pocket

And when you touch they feel like worms

If I were you, I’d never worry about AThing, not worth it.

(20th Jan 09)

I'm an embarrassment. Well,just 88% of the time

In standard two, when we went out for PE{Physical Exercise} we’d sing game songs and most of them must have been composed by a mad teacher. Some were about saluting the teacher, and another about an old black petticoat that got torn cha.
One day we were singing one song ,girls on one side, boys one the other, and whichever name was called first, if a boy, he’d go to the girl’s side and pick the girl he liked and brought her back to his side. This was a lot of stress in our young minds because the person you chose was free to reject you and then the entire class would laugh at you and swing you from side to side on your back.
My turn came, and when I stepped forward to choose one boy , he bolted, took off, and I was hot on his heels after him, got hold of him and brought him back.{I’m not getting a swinging today} I never lived that down, even now when I meet my old classmates, they remind me of that, even though later, when we were adolescents the boy bought me a few chocolates and said he loved me like chapati and karanga, {I actually have never found out what karanga is}.This went on for about a term , then he told my deskmate the same and that marked my second dumping.

I always take the bus, even when I’m late for class, the taxi culture hasn’t really got me, and anyway if I took the cab, It’d throw my budget of course seriously. Sometimes, when I go to the supermarket, I will wait one hour, one and half hours for the bus and I will be so dehydrated form the sun, I ‘ll collapse into a seat and only wake up at the next station, to wait for another bus. As I wait, often, I make friends and we’ll be talking and chatting and bemoaning the hard life of a commuter, or how hot the sun is, even at 6p.m, how they should make air conditioned bus stops …
So you can picture how excited the other day when my friend drove close to the bus stop and waved me to get into the car{I should say my friend’s friend, I don’t have that many friends who drive around} In a second I was at the door with the biggest grin, and frantically waving goodbye to my classmate, and he was saying hey you left your notes, and I was saying you can keep them. So the driving friend asks, hey your friend going the same way? He beckons my classmate to come in too and the latter comes at the proper pace and we drive off.{All the while, I’m thinking ok, what's wrong with me now?}
I was looking through my old pictures and I saw this picture from my aunt’s wedding. It was after high-school and I had just moved into the city, we’ve already covered the issue of dressing, so it’s agreed that it’s not that I can’t dress properly, I got my own style.Looking at that picture, there isn’t much difference from what I’d chose now for a wedding. Even though my aunt commented how that shade of blue and purple could never go together.
I have a few dishes I can order all by myself now, and When we go out to eat with my friends, the Chinese counter wins most of the time. I find no inspiration battling a plate of fire down my throat. So regardless of the place or setting, I will order plain rice and roast pork, and eat all of it, then finish before everyone else, and you’d think with such a diet I’d have some hip.
Last week, me and my two nurse friends were in a meeting and before it began, one of them was explaining to me how she was vomiting at the hospital the previous day for many reasons, and the other one was saying- that’s nothing I had to watch a pipe being passed through the backside of a patient, man it’s painful, she didn't say backside, she used the medical term anus and the people in-front of us turned, reminded me of the first time I heard my friend say bitch in a conversation- that bitch needs some training, she was explaining to her cousin, a man of about 40. She works at a veterinary so she was talking about some female dog. So to some extent, iwould it be fair to say that it's the crowd I hang out that has to blame for the way sometimes my mouth goes off by itself?