It's 11:24 pm. I'm in bed working away on my laptop. I've got deadlines I missed eons ago taxing my mind while pondering the meetings & workshops I must still attend. Pray tell where in the middle of all this is one meant to get a man full of interesting conversation to chat away with and mould into marriage material? When are coffee dates & rendez-vous meant to be planned leave alone attended? How does one take time to go to the movies to watch 007 when his every missed gun shot and plunging BMW (really?) reads like the story of your every day work life (replacing bullets with stinker emails & BMW's with profit margins). Dating was not invented with the 30+ working girl in mind.
Then there's the other side of the pie ... Married with 3 kids and the hubby who always asks 'Honey, where are my socks?' So you get home at 9pm bone tired only to be met by the resentful look of the spouse who while flipping through the DSTV (you paid for) sulks because 'you're always getting home late nowadays'. Or maybe he's of the stock that declares that he cannot eat anyone's cooking other than yours. So whatever time you're in the door, he let's you know he's hungry through his every sullen motion and doesn't even keep you company as you chop and throw things you can hardly see into a pan. Really? Good thing the salt is usually stored far away from the Red Cat rat poison ...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
The Lone Rangeress and the Bar Counter
At some point late last year, I came across an article in the Saturday Magazine by the always entertaining Biko. The piece was about women who drink alone at bars and have the audacity to sit at the counter. The point was that this was a clear challenge to all men present; an invitation to treat; a request for attention and conversation.
I beg to differ. You see I am very often that woman. Why you wonder does a single gal choose to go out on her own? Aren’t there people she could hang out with or better things that she could do with her time (like take up knitting)? By the time you’re my age, a lot of your pals are married, in relationships, dating, or just plain old busy so it does often happen that you have no one to hang out with. Why not stay home? Home which is a refuge from the outside world at most times can seem like a prison when you’re there too often. Besides, I like the loud music, flashy lights and crowds of the rave scene.
But believe me, it does take thick skin to go out solo. You get strange looks from people (both men and women) who have no doubt that you’re waiting for company and keep craning necks to see what the guy your waiting for looks like. Then the realization dawns on them, as clear as the techno beat playing, that you’ve been stood up. What follows are overdone sympathetic glances sent your way to communicate that they’ve been there too, while the truth of the women’s glee and the men’s caution (after all there must be some reason why you were stood up) is easily discernible. If you’re lucky, by the time things take this ugly downward shift, your drink will have carried you beyond the point of caring.
When at a bar alone, believe me the last place you want to be is at a table for 2. This is actually an invitation to all and sundry to come chat you up. By the time they notice you’re solo there’s really nothing stopping them from taking up the chance. I know am single and should be doing all I can to get me a suitor but it’s never that serious. Never that serious. By the time you’ll have gone through the riff raff and the ‘heaven’s lost an Angel’ one liners, the headache you’ll have will make you wish you’d stayed home.
So presenting the bar counter (tada!). If you’re a single lady thinking of going it alone, this is the most ideal place to position yourself. Think about it practically. Preferably, get a seat to one end of the counter. This will probably have a view to whatever match is on, a good view of the whole place and you have unrestricted access to the bar man. The barman is actually an unsung hero; the symbol of peace and safety. So here’s this level headed guy (who must stay that way for purposes of ensuring profitability and keeping his job) who will talk to you if you seem to want conversation and leave you the hell alone if you don’t. At the counter you run a tab and don’t have to go through the indignity of being refused service because as a single (black) woman on her own, you must be a prostitute waiting for a white man to come along and buy you liquor. For some reason, it takes a guy quite some confidence to come up to the bar counter and chat you up (unless he just so happens to be the fellow you sat next to). I don’t actually know why that is (natural selection?) but if you’re looking to weeding out the chaff at a bar, that would be the place to position yourself.
Having said all the above, I must point out that I’m still single :-)
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Why Can't Women Think Straight When it Comes to Love?
So the other day I was watching "The Nazi Officer's Wife" (yes eons after everyone else) and I found the story so very sad. Even though the main storyline was fairly strange albeit interesting (probably why they made a movie of it in the first place) my points of concern were 2: (and here I issue a spoiler alert)
To remind you, the woman was living happily in Austria before the war broke out. But just before it did, they had an inkling that it might. In fact if I remember right, it was the day before all went to hell that her sisters got on a train and moved to safety's. She stayed on. Why you ask? What would make a woman risk her all? Yes you guessed it right, a man. The woman was in love with a man. A man she thought all wonderful and who had promised her that he would protect her and always be there for her. The selfish bastard was aware of the fact that she was not moving because of him. Probably encouraged it; putting her safety in his hands. And what does the idiot do when it matters? What does he do when shit has well and truly hit the fan? He not only turns his back on her, but does it by hiding in the folds of his mother's skirts! (He was partly jewish and his mother had ensured that all his papers hid that fact - this mother apparently ensured that he had nothing to do with his love). (Grow a spine!)
Abandoned and alone (her mother who had been the other (although lesser) reason she'd stayed on had been sent to a camp) our protagonist risks life and limb in traveling to Munich where she sets up a life for herself. Here she meets another man (a Nazi Officer - hence the title) who within the span of a week or two proposes. She is turmoiled for what can she do? How is she to accept the proposal yet she embodies the very antithesis of his beliefs? How is she to deal with the loneliness she carries in her heart? So what does she do? The Jewish woman who has through the grace of God escaped certain death in a refugee camp through fake documents purporting her to be Aryan confesses the secret of her identity to a Nazi Officer. As she is loved by God, the man keeps her secret and the story goes on (they get married and even have a kid during the height of the 2nd World War).
Women, what is wrong with us? What is this thing called love that pushes us to go against every grain of reason in our beings? Why do we risk so much for the ones we love (regardless of whether the love is reciprocated)? Why can't we learn to do things in good measure? That for me was the teaching of Edith Han's story. That and that we must pray and trust in God.
To remind you, the woman was living happily in Austria before the war broke out. But just before it did, they had an inkling that it might. In fact if I remember right, it was the day before all went to hell that her sisters got on a train and moved to safety's. She stayed on. Why you ask? What would make a woman risk her all? Yes you guessed it right, a man. The woman was in love with a man. A man she thought all wonderful and who had promised her that he would protect her and always be there for her. The selfish bastard was aware of the fact that she was not moving because of him. Probably encouraged it; putting her safety in his hands. And what does the idiot do when it matters? What does he do when shit has well and truly hit the fan? He not only turns his back on her, but does it by hiding in the folds of his mother's skirts! (He was partly jewish and his mother had ensured that all his papers hid that fact - this mother apparently ensured that he had nothing to do with his love). (Grow a spine!)
Abandoned and alone (her mother who had been the other (although lesser) reason she'd stayed on had been sent to a camp) our protagonist risks life and limb in traveling to Munich where she sets up a life for herself. Here she meets another man (a Nazi Officer - hence the title) who within the span of a week or two proposes. She is turmoiled for what can she do? How is she to accept the proposal yet she embodies the very antithesis of his beliefs? How is she to deal with the loneliness she carries in her heart? So what does she do? The Jewish woman who has through the grace of God escaped certain death in a refugee camp through fake documents purporting her to be Aryan confesses the secret of her identity to a Nazi Officer. As she is loved by God, the man keeps her secret and the story goes on (they get married and even have a kid during the height of the 2nd World War).
Women, what is wrong with us? What is this thing called love that pushes us to go against every grain of reason in our beings? Why do we risk so much for the ones we love (regardless of whether the love is reciprocated)? Why can't we learn to do things in good measure? That for me was the teaching of Edith Han's story. That and that we must pray and trust in God.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Zanzibar the land of Opportunity (.. ahem)
In a lot of the things I see in my day to day life, I consider that the world was made with men in mind. From the fact of pregnancy to the inner workings of a car; from the lifestyle of a male lion to the height of that mango up on that tree ... Well I recently had an experience to make me rethink (or perhaps emphasize) that point.
I'd gone for holiday in Zanzibar, this dream island meant to hold beauty beyond your imagination. The spicy island with such a long history. It was meant to be a dream destination. Well it would have been, except that everyone forgot to mention that it's a place best suited for honeymooners. I'm single.
So I did enjoy the beautiful 15 minute sunset (alone) as well as the slender streets of stone town (alone) not forgetting the experience that is beautiful Forodhani by night (alone) and by the 3rd night, I was itching for a super wild party, sort of what I'd have gotten in Nairobi surrounded by friends & loved ones (who didn't rub your singleness in your face like salt in an almost closed wound!).
Well a wild party is what I got. Perhaps I should have been a little clearer on what I meant by 'wild'. Wa! So first of all, to put the Island's night life into perspective, I must begin by pointing out that it's non-existent. There are 2 night spots in town that we came across - Livingstone & Mercury. None of these could hold a candle to even the most lame of bars in Nairobi. So one of the hotels organized a beach party. We got all excited and queued to attend what was bound to be The Party. When we got there the first thing we noticed was that the music was rather white. Then we looked around and realized that we formed the minority: black women. Turns out that this sort of shindig appealed more to the tourist and hence the exorbitant entrance fee (TShs 10,000).
And along with the mzungu comes the TZ brand of beach boy called the 'sharobaro'. This man makes the scrub look like a hard working coal miner! The lout hangs around all day waiting for manna from above in the form of a white man/woman who will take care of all their financial woes for a roll in the sack. And yes I did say man or woman. I've never seen such open display of bi-ness. The same guy would run to hug a woman and kiss a man. Under the same roof! Talk about equal opportunity! And their female counterparts weren't there. I'm used to seeing such places crawling with women prostitutes (with questionable dress sense) but that wasn't the case here as this male specie had evolved into a multipurpose phenomena .. 2 for the price of one!
Have an open minded day!
I'd gone for holiday in Zanzibar, this dream island meant to hold beauty beyond your imagination. The spicy island with such a long history. It was meant to be a dream destination. Well it would have been, except that everyone forgot to mention that it's a place best suited for honeymooners. I'm single.
So I did enjoy the beautiful 15 minute sunset (alone) as well as the slender streets of stone town (alone) not forgetting the experience that is beautiful Forodhani by night (alone) and by the 3rd night, I was itching for a super wild party, sort of what I'd have gotten in Nairobi surrounded by friends & loved ones (who didn't rub your singleness in your face like salt in an almost closed wound!).
Well a wild party is what I got. Perhaps I should have been a little clearer on what I meant by 'wild'. Wa! So first of all, to put the Island's night life into perspective, I must begin by pointing out that it's non-existent. There are 2 night spots in town that we came across - Livingstone & Mercury. None of these could hold a candle to even the most lame of bars in Nairobi. So one of the hotels organized a beach party. We got all excited and queued to attend what was bound to be The Party. When we got there the first thing we noticed was that the music was rather white. Then we looked around and realized that we formed the minority: black women. Turns out that this sort of shindig appealed more to the tourist and hence the exorbitant entrance fee (TShs 10,000).
And along with the mzungu comes the TZ brand of beach boy called the 'sharobaro'. This man makes the scrub look like a hard working coal miner! The lout hangs around all day waiting for manna from above in the form of a white man/woman who will take care of all their financial woes for a roll in the sack. And yes I did say man or woman. I've never seen such open display of bi-ness. The same guy would run to hug a woman and kiss a man. Under the same roof! Talk about equal opportunity! And their female counterparts weren't there. I'm used to seeing such places crawling with women prostitutes (with questionable dress sense) but that wasn't the case here as this male specie had evolved into a multipurpose phenomena .. 2 for the price of one!
Have an open minded day!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The Seven Truths
I was tagged on Jaded by Wakarima to give 7 truths about myself. While very excited, it turned out to be much more difficult than I'd expected (this has been in draft for some time) ...
Let's get the rules out of the way:
Thanks Wakarima - I'm honoured. Here goes:
Seven Truths:
1. I'm not over 30. Well not in my head, I'm not (my ID & mother would beg to differ). I feel rather young and vibrant and am only reminded of my age when I realise that there are things I can't do as well anymore. Like heal. It's not as quick as it once was. I've been scarred by paper cuts!
2. While I cook rather well when I put my mind to it, I don't cook often. Too much effort for 1. I try to cook at least once a week though. I'm not always successful.
3. My favourite colour is red and I'm very often in it. I have a row of red shoes in my collection and when I'm out shopping nowadays, I need to carry someone along who will stop me from buying red stuff, or I will have a problem.
4. Writing is my secret passion and in my next life I'll be a journalist. Words have a way breaking down structure and letting one escape from the prism of everyday reality. Sort of like weed (I guess ... )
5. I have never taken weed ... As a teen we were shown some horrid video on the effects of drug abuse and have never tried any. Alcohol wasn't depicted in that movie so I do drink. I do however like the weed culture/symbol. I got a fake weed tattoo once and was very happy with myself!
6. I've spent a larger part of my life in Nairobi. I like Nairobi. If you're from here, you know what to expect. That the mat cut you off in traffic is no surprise. That power goes is something you were half expecting deep inside. If you hear on the news that a minister quit his job after a scandal you will obviously know that they're not talking about a Kenyan MP ...
7. I'm a happy person. On my fridge is a sticker that says 'dance to your own special music'. I think that's what I try to do.
Now to tag:
Kenyan Dating
Bee Illustrated
Lostinthot
Otieno H
My Inner Cheerleader
Let's get the rules out of the way:
RULES:
Thank and link back to the person who sent you the award.
Share seven things about yourself.
Spread the love and honor. Award recently discovered bloggers.
Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award.
Thanks Wakarima - I'm honoured. Here goes:
Seven Truths:
1. I'm not over 30. Well not in my head, I'm not (my ID & mother would beg to differ). I feel rather young and vibrant and am only reminded of my age when I realise that there are things I can't do as well anymore. Like heal. It's not as quick as it once was. I've been scarred by paper cuts!
2. While I cook rather well when I put my mind to it, I don't cook often. Too much effort for 1. I try to cook at least once a week though. I'm not always successful.
3. My favourite colour is red and I'm very often in it. I have a row of red shoes in my collection and when I'm out shopping nowadays, I need to carry someone along who will stop me from buying red stuff, or I will have a problem.
4. Writing is my secret passion and in my next life I'll be a journalist. Words have a way breaking down structure and letting one escape from the prism of everyday reality. Sort of like weed (I guess ... )
5. I have never taken weed ... As a teen we were shown some horrid video on the effects of drug abuse and have never tried any. Alcohol wasn't depicted in that movie so I do drink. I do however like the weed culture/symbol. I got a fake weed tattoo once and was very happy with myself!
6. I've spent a larger part of my life in Nairobi. I like Nairobi. If you're from here, you know what to expect. That the mat cut you off in traffic is no surprise. That power goes is something you were half expecting deep inside. If you hear on the news that a minister quit his job after a scandal you will obviously know that they're not talking about a Kenyan MP ...
7. I'm a happy person. On my fridge is a sticker that says 'dance to your own special music'. I think that's what I try to do.
Now to tag:
Kenyan Dating
Bee Illustrated
Lostinthot
Otieno H
My Inner Cheerleader
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The Horror!
It's with a heavy sigh that I ponder what I've been reduced to. Me. The Spinster. Woman of great confidence and acuity.
To explain: I have a silly school girl crush on a workmate. Thinking of him, my mouth subconsciously spreads into a smile and my mind wanders ... I spendlots of time trying to figure out how to ensure that our paths cross, while still trying to look cool and blase. I keep tab on where he is at most times and notice his quirks & shirts. And as if this weren't enough, I've caught myself this evening googling "how to catch his eye"!!
My pal summarized it thus: "You got it bad!"
*sigh* Isn't life meant to be simpler ..
To explain: I have a silly school girl crush on a workmate. Thinking of him, my mouth subconsciously spreads into a smile and my mind wanders ... I spend
My pal summarized it thus: "You got it bad!"
*sigh* Isn't life meant to be simpler ..
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Phantom Relationships
I've read the Saturday paper and for a couple of weeks running, they have had a notion of what they term as 'Phantom Relationships'. Apparently you can be blissfully in love with the man of your life and checking off potential colour schemes and wedding planners while he considers you 'a convenient pal'. Now wait just a minute here! Isn't that just ... er .. so .. preposterously obnoxious and ridiculous! What is this world coming to!
Ok .. let me take a few minutes to breath .. Done. To give you an illustration of why this is so wrong, let's take me. I'm 30-something and ready to settle down. I'm not interested in relationships that are not likely to lead to marriage unless were just talking friendship (no time to waste). There's black and there's white. So when I give my heart & all to this great man with who I expect to share my dreams and aspirations, how terrible it would be to find out that he was only in it for sport!
On the other hand, women need to be clearer on some things. It's not good enough to take his kind smile and easy going nature as an indication of commitment. And that he has had past difficulty settling down and is always busy out with the 'boys' should be a hint that all may not be hunky-dory. What's so difficult about asking? Really .. just ask. It's the conversation that men dread to have but I imagine that they only dread to have it with women they're not that interested in in the first place. (Been there, done that, had the T-shirt for so long I had to give it out)
Let's be real.
Ok .. let me take a few minutes to breath .. Done. To give you an illustration of why this is so wrong, let's take me. I'm 30-something and ready to settle down. I'm not interested in relationships that are not likely to lead to marriage unless were just talking friendship (no time to waste). There's black and there's white. So when I give my heart & all to this great man with who I expect to share my dreams and aspirations, how terrible it would be to find out that he was only in it for sport!
On the other hand, women need to be clearer on some things. It's not good enough to take his kind smile and easy going nature as an indication of commitment. And that he has had past difficulty settling down and is always busy out with the 'boys' should be a hint that all may not be hunky-dory. What's so difficult about asking? Really .. just ask. It's the conversation that men dread to have but I imagine that they only dread to have it with women they're not that interested in in the first place. (Been there, done that, had the T-shirt for so long I had to give it out)
Let's be real.
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