. Parties & such

So, em, I’m back [a bit obviously, ahem]

Light or heavy first?

I have become an insomniac…so here I am blogging at 2358 instead of being in bed [why do I insist on 24 hour time? Force of habit, I guess] and that has led me to all sorts of places. (Un)fortunately, not in the literal sense. Ag. I miss W ๐Ÿ˜ฆ That was random, that thing I just said…It’ll stay…

Today [that is to say, the day that just ended] was a wonderful day. I got one-on-one time with my great friend C & more importantly, Tusker Project Fame 3 came to an end. Of course TPF3 was much more important than seeing C; as demonstrated by the rest of this post…

I went clubbing in Kisumu [woop woop] with C & my high school classmate J. Eh, Magaribina concurs with me; Kisumu is a trip. In a literal & figurative sense for me…being as the townhouse (as if, but not quite) is in Maseno [wonderful university town], a 30 minute drive from Kisumu. Now when I say 30 minutes, I am not being faithful to the facts. Such as matatus (public transport minibuses) that cannot possibly move if they are not carrying excess passengers…it’s against Matatu Code to follow rules. Yes, visit Kenya ujionee [literally, ‘see for yourself’ as opposed to your friend seeing for you<–dogs excepted :)] the wonders that are the commuter transport system.

>>>>Stay focused, The Shaboozle!!!<<<<

Where was I? Yes, Kisumu clubbing. First, we had to eat…chicken at a particular eatery [if you saw a girl in a heavy sweater at Tammiez last Saturday; guilty] was supposed to beat that at any other. Mother dearest was most definitely not intrigued by turn of events….had expected to cook for C & J (OK, mostly C…J doesn’t jingle her bell*) but hey, gulls girls sometimes fly away from their mums in such ways ๐Ÿ™‚ To get there we had to get on a tuk tuk [should really get phone with camera, really] from a random bus stop [It was right there close to the middle of nowhere]. Several minutes later; chicken (well worth the wait), ugali & kachumbari (savoury, I think it would be called?) is served. This after C & I had gone to the bar to get drinks-this girl is always dehydrated *before I forget; T currently calls a balloon filled with water a ‘hydra’<–love that boy* & I was told I could do a random dance called ‘the jungle’ really awesomely. AwEsOmE ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

Then *The Rave* Ai, Caramba. Tuk tuk, again. I walk to the rave in Nairobi being a proud citizen of a walking working country & all ๐Ÿ™‚ so it was strange having to board a means of conveyance to the rave. From, yeah, because some people are smashed and really need to be carried by, you know, a car. Some place called Grillz. Entrance charge 100KES (about US$1.30) is waaay out of the league of most university students [read: C, J & The Shaboozle], club-hopping wise. Which means once the decision is made -or made for you as in my case being as it was my first time in Kisumu post-2100- you stick to it. Oi, thanks Kisumu for allowing us to savour options…Full of aggressive men [NO means, well, no], gay men-these ones I am at peace with :), & the man who didn’t contemplate that I could possibly not want to go home with him after dancing with him, accepting a drink & having a conversation.

I found a dam near the townhouse. Bliss. I’m really earthy in the installation in nature sort of way, he he. Was led there by T (who thinks himself quite the tour guide) today…Bliss (oops! said that already) It’s pretty in the way abandoned things are…and allowed me the peace to speak to T about stuff (probably overload him…world’s best 9 year old; I โ™ฅ him :)..). My mum had practically kicked us out of the house (and we were headed out, would you believe!) and I had a chance to talk about a conversation I had with X yesterday. About the weirdness surrounding the long distance, the distance in and of itself… He said it had been latent; I had refused to speak about it even with my cousin F, who’s half of a long distance relationship (LDR) herself. I can’t wait for school to resume, ag. To see X again…<–Enough!!!

I’m going to throw my daughter(s) period party/ies of the sort in Vagina Monologues (the book) when they have their first. My mum was shocked albeit prepared when I had mine-very distinct memory of self calming down said mum….we’ve come from v v far, she & I. One’s first period should be celebrated, rejoiced, enjoyed, remembered with joy….and I’ll make sure she/they has/ve that. I just wanted that out. Ah, now it’s out.

Random something or other: X is a great listener. The sort that retransmits your information & makes you question yourself as you talk…my favourite sort of listener. Putting that down on my ‘What I love about X’ list. I felt a bit stranged out [is that a word? If no, it is now….I’ve gotten tired of ‘weirded out’] by the whole Kisumu debacle. I felt like I had, what do I say?, cheated on X. I felt sorta like this video:

Strange that I should have Blue October here considering X’s latest post is related to them. Eish, great minds ๐Ÿ˜€ But I think, not going home with said guy is more important than whatever signals I may have been giving him in order to end up being asked to be one half of a one night stand. I’ll say it here: The long distance is not the best thing to happen to our relationship. Young and fragile & all. But I’m growing up along with it and I like what I am becoming ๐Ÿ™‚

Talk to you soon ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

0159 STOP ๐Ÿ˜€

Healing myself…and other such whimsical tales

Healing Yourself is a wonderful concept promulgated by one Louise Hay and bought by many. Not me, I would have hastened to add a week or so ago. But now…that would be to lie because this girl is healing herself ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

I’ve talked about my tendency to vaginal infections before and the angst they cause. Hence healing myself… It’s been shown in research that womyn who frequently take antibiotics are susceptible to such infections. Oh, don’t try to convince me otherwise, I am…I have one now, second in one year…we shall not talk about previous years… So when I had a rash on my back and was put on antibiotics, I got off them as soon as I figured out the source of the rash….THE HEAT. It’s atrocious…and the rash was shaped like my favourite sundress….that’s just hilarious ๐Ÿ˜€ Then talking to my mum (Superwoman/ Mum/ Dairy expert/ Tree expert/ Economist/ In-house doctor/ Psychologist….you get my drift)ย about it, I found support for my cause. Here are a few reasons why I want to heal myself:

  • Even with insurance, HMOs, etc; medication for vaginal infections at reputable hospitals is downright expensive. The parents could pay, but I’d rather go for a movie…with popcorn thrown in ๐Ÿ™‚
  • The pain, the pain; the aching, stinging pain…need I say more?
  • It’s a nice feeling, wellness. Better hang on to it, I figure…
  • I could go on forever but I’ve talked for long before

Now, how am I going to heal myself? By:

  • Eating healthy
  • Staying yoghurt-y (this works for period pain, too)
  • Generally doing the stuff recommended here (all but stuffing things up my vagina <even though I use tampons>…about as exciting as the pessaries I would get at the hospital…

To other news…

You know what they say…Show me who your friends are etc… Yeah, I’m doing something we used to call ‘kurub mafriends‘ in this post. I know a girl who is, supposedly, my friend and has made been the cause of some debacles in my life. Don’t believe me? Try these:

  • Spreading a random rumour about me losing my virginity to guy whose identity she refuses to reveal who I had just met….and expecting me to give her relationship advice afterwards (oi, but isn’t that some contradiction?)
  • Calling me incessantly to go and people-watch (sorry, people-watchers, I found it stupid…)
  • Telling me not to talk to the guy at the concessions stand at the cinema, probably because I’d refused to accompany her to the toilet (I dislike public amenities), by saying, “Theshaboozle, weren’t you taught not to talk to the help?” across the lobby.

I shall not go on. X, a mutual friend of ours who I am not discussing actively from now henceforth….I mean, really, at the rate at which I have been speaking of him, might as well call this blog ‘All about X, with bits of me thrown in intermittently’….thinks she is, quote, “equal parts brilliant and scary. A good friend to have.” What?! He he, she scares him, that’s a fact (I have seen him stand on a pavement trying to decide whether to walk away from her with me <I had warned her & I didn’t need him to tag along, really> and incur her wrath or go to her & incur mine <I can assure you, I couldn’t have been bothered, even if he were my boyfriend then…which he wasn’t…such things don’t register on my ย botheration-meter>) and her brilliance (in the ‘she so smart’ sense) is without question. But her emotional intelligence is so low that I fear it doesn’t exist. For that reason, I am staying away from her; getting her off my Facebook news feed, out of my phonebook (oops! did that already! ๐Ÿ˜‰ ), and resisting any of her overtures. X may think her a good friend but maybe in this case, opposites attract. If your friends speak to the sort of person you are, I refuse to be thought of as similar to her. I’d rather be like L, my friend whose nickname for me is ‘Best Friend’-a girl that’s smart, principled & fun; ย or W who can have a laugh and has a wonderful way with words; or A who can shift from matters of the soul to those of the sole flawlessly…or a host of my other friends. ย These people, I want to be thought to be like. In short, I am Letting Her Go as TD Jakes would say. And my mum would say that you need to name your sentiments to move on.

Also, here is my message to the universe:

I deserve kind, respectful, considerate friends who share my values and with whom I can share wonderful moments.

Maybe, by not saying that, I have denied myself beautiful friendships while participating in toxic ones…

Last, but most definitely not least; I have become an expert tree planter, many thanks to my mum. My brother, father, mum & I planted quite a few yesterday & shall plant a much larger number today. Kenya has been experiencing water and electricity shortages, occasioned by massive, uncontrolled logging & general destruction of our forests…including not having electricity in my parents’ townhouse yesterday night (‘townhouse’ is just a stab by yours truly at being pompous ๐Ÿ˜€ )….so we’re doing our part in reforesting the country. Plus, we can sell the trees in 5-10 years time…for a pile of cash, no less. Talk about a win-win situation. Plus, prior to the beginning of the exercise (I first planted trees about 2.5 weeks ago), I had felt pretty useless what with the drudgery that was house & farm chores and school being out ergo no fun kids to teach…tree planting is fun ๐Ÿ™‚ Makes me fel like I’m part of a major world occurence…changing the world one tree at a time. Random fact: There’s a shrub called ‘Moby Dick’. Yes, like the book ๐Ÿ™‚

I had forgotten this…the 3rd generation iPod Touch is out. Gets a .000000001 on the 100 scale botheration-meter. X & Co. (Apple-freaks, geeks, techwhizzes etc) had some hoopla on Twitter which I ignored and I shall continue to do so. I had a 2nd generation iPod Nano at 18 (then the latest) which was stolen as I conducted an act of friendship (standing at a downtown Nairobi location called Kenya Cinema waiting for my friend 3M) and was gifted (yes, I said gifted, lol) with a 2nd generation iPod Touch by my father last year in December (earmarked for sale) but all I use it for is music…music…music. So I wonder what all the fuss is about. If it stores music same as the one before, as the next one shall, what do I care for all the other gizmos? I like to think of myself as a simple soul (a bit of an untruth, but…) so there we go, I have revealed a little something about me. Joke…

For an entry that I had hoped would be short….:)

Stay tuned for more ๐Ÿ˜€

Sunny’s back!

That’s me, Sunny ๐Ÿ™‚

The last post gave ‘a break from the usual’ a whole new meaning….

OK…where do I begin?

I have acquired an obsession. Last time I used that word was in relation to a boy. Who constantly proclaims his love for me (gave me the best birthday gift this year *love you, hun, wherever you are*) and, it turns out, is gay. But he’ll always be something special…. Anyway, my latest obsession is ciggies….. I know…unhealthy, but I have moments where I am frustrated and all I can think about is this urge I have to smoke. Odd….considering the last time I smoked, I was 6…sneaking a puff of one of my uncles’ cigarette butts. I suck on a lollipop and end up holding the stick like a ciggie. My mum the psychologist links it to the fact that I barely breastfed. But that is conjecture, really… So I’ve been focusing my thoughts on that Benson & Hedges stick I shall have each week when school resumes (oh, my summer holiday…) which will be the holder of each week’s frustrations. I shall smoke when my roommate next semester goes to church… Told my brother about it and he was pretty intrigued… sad…

My summer holiday has been spent re-discovering myself, my causes, and figuring out my feelings for X… I have found out that the 6 children I once dreamt of having are just that… a dream. Remember the move? Well, it was to theย bundu (love that word) ie the rural areas…in this case, western Kenya. Where women get so many children their bodies get tired of it all…and children go without shoes because they are too many for their parents to buy enough pairs. My mum jokes that our village is where hers was in the 70’s…birth control-wise.

Have taught at the local primary school…enlightening. Made me really count my blessings…parents who care for me and helped me learn to read and write. I could read at 3…some of the kids I taught this last term (Kenya has 3 terms…appropriately called 1st, 2nd & 3rd term… You have to love Kenya) can’t read at 7/8. Sad… I was brought up with a keen awareness of human rights (Proud Amnesty International international member) and this… this inability to read, reproductive health issues….. They gnaw at me…

Now I’m at the townhouse….searching for documents that I’ve looked for n times before… OK, Bruce… what do you do? And making dinner. Hot, spicy, veggy…and the baby liked it ๐Ÿ™‚ The townhouse…so close to the post office. I went there today to post a letter to X. Oh, X, he makes me happy with the way he’s re-ignited my love for snail mail. Och, X, wherever you are ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

People are falling in love. That is to say W and myself. Oh, W…I’m so happy for him. And he’s had progress…I on the other hand really have to wait for October ie. the end of my summer holiday…to see my boyfriend… W sees his every week and misses him everyday. Me? I’ve imposed an injuction on saying ‘I miss you’ on Facebook messages. It makes the feeling too keen. So I’m not saying it, or listening to those long distance love etc songs/blogs/you get my drift…

X… is so interesting. That’s putting it lightly. I found a link to a fresh blog of his…long story which I shall not tell here… He fell in love, it turns out…and got arrested with the girl he loved (at the time of the entry)… Now, I happen to have been arested with him…and to have gotten a declaration of like from him (yes, like…not love) but that entry? It made me happy in a strange way. Part *aww, I love you too; babe* and part *say it to me, hun* OK, so now it’s strange…the happiness. But it goes to prove I should give X a chance; because I have less need to be pessimistic…or positively, I have more causes for happiness…

Oh, W, you’ve influenced me far too much. Look at me going all lovey dovey…

To wrap it up, here’s my back to school list:

1.Ciggies…/2.Storage stuff for when I move into my college hall (I’m green so I’m getting crafts baskets instead of plastic ones…)/3.Materials for a vision board…/4.Ball pens (have been using fountain pens…can’t take it any more…)…/

5.highly anticipated…seeing X again ๐Ÿ™‚ …such clean fun ๐Ÿ˜‰