Men Are From Mars...

Random Ramblings

2010-03-31T17:37:00.000-07:00

Today was the first real day of spring, finally got to 70 degrees. The first thing I thought of when I woke up was that next Friday is my last official day as a second year med student! I simply don't know what happened to the last two years of my life. It's a great feeling to know I survived the first half of med school. If I can survive my first board exam, then all the better. With that realization came a very humbling feeling of just how blessed I am. I had a conversation with an old friend yesterday that I hadn't talked to in a year. The last time I talked to her, she had been accepted into med school. However, the sad reality of being an international student hit her when the school told her the only way she could matriculate is if she pays her entire 4 years of tuition up front. I don't know any Kenyan that can write a $200,000 check. So, she's had to settle for a PhD program.

On a different trajectory, did I miss some kinda memo somewhere? Why is everyone and their momma trying to hook me up with some man? I know I haven't been in a real relationship for a year and a half, but come on! I usually feel pretty good while surrounded by my med school friends, but every time I venture outside that circle, I get a rude awakening. The way people carry on, you would think I was 40. I just turned 26 for crying out loud! I recently visited my aunts for spring break and all I heard the entire week were bios of different men that I came into contact with. Never mind the fact that some of them were already hooked up!

I expect such things from my aunts/grandmas, etc. But imagine my surprise when one of my best friends came upto me and excitedly exclaimed "I found your future husband! And he's a cardiologist!" Really? I had no idea she was on the hunt. I can think of at least 5 future husbands lurking around somewhere curtesy of my family. But to have my friend start playing the hook up game made me pose and wonder if I missed something along the way.

I know this is supposedly the age where people do hardcore dating, but who the hell has time? I barely have time to cook and do my laundry, let alone go out on dates. Not to mention the fact that in recent months, I haven't come across a single guy worth a second date. Well, that doesn't matter. My aunts have already warned me that my 30th birthday will be an intervention party. I better find a "future husband" in the next three and a half years! This is too funny...

On yet another trajectory...why is it that the most "saved" people usually end up being the biggest hypocrites? Why hide behind religion? Too many shocking stories lately involving church members and pastors. Or perhaps the only reason I find some things "shocking" is because the most shocking thing I ever experience in med school is having a professor drop the F-bomb and have some overly sensitive person report it to the deans. The next thing we know, we're receiving an email from the said professor in the form of an apology. So when I hear stories about a church pastor sleeping with half the women in his congregation (many of whom I know)...I do find it quite shocking....

TMZ/National Enquirer kenyan Style

2010-02-18T13:38:00.000-08:00

Twelve hours ago, I had no idea who Esther Arunga was. Perhaps if I lived in Kenya, I would. Nevertheless, in the last few hours, thanks to Facebook and blogoland, my curiosity got the better of me. Who is this person and why does she have the internet lit up like a candlestick?

Well, I should have known she would turn out to be a celeb of sorts. Hot celeb gossip makes the world go round. I always joke that TMZ knows what celebs are gonna do even before the celebs themselves think of doing "it".

When Raila fired Ongeri and Co. last week, only for them to be reinstated by Kibaki, the Facebookers didn't say a peep. I only found out about it by reading the breaking news on Nation. But who cares about the state of politics when you have juicy gossip to cheer you up and make you forget how truly messed up your own life is? And this Esther Arunga story has it all.

Hot chick on top of the world, seemingly headed down the road of perfection. Then along comes another man (men?) and her romantic love story goes kapoof! Then enter some foreign man (Nigerian? S.African? British? Kenyan? Who cares?). And let's take it a step further than TMZ and add in God and religion. Only Kenyans know how to put God in the middle of EVERYTHING, good or bad.

The Nation already has 3 articles on their website concerning this story, complete with a press conference. Yes, Kenya is quickly catching up with the rest of the paparazzi around the world. The good news is, gossip is good for your mental health. So keep the juice flowing.

Will This Madness Never End?

2010-01-18T06:51:00.000-08:00

I woke up to news that one of my childhood friends had been gunned down by thugs in Westlands and had succumbed to his gun injuries last night. I was in a great mood and looking forward to a wonderful birthday week. Now, I'm in tears and wondering why this had to happen. This was supposed to be M.N.'s big year. He's finally followed in his father's footsteps and become a pilot for a major airline. On new year's day, he proposed to his long time girlfriend in what was the most romantic proposal I ever heard of...straight out of a romantic comedy. For him, life was supposed to be good this year. Instead, he's lying on a cold slab in a morgue, while his family and friends are left behind in agony. Such a wonderful young life has been extinguished, just like that!

I am so sick and tired of the damn insecurity in Kenya. Why can't people just live their lives and have peace of mind? When I think of all the family members and friends I've lost to stupid thugs, I wanna strangle someone. Why can't they just take the car and leave the person alone? Why not take everything in the house and the money and disappear? Why do they always have to shoot the victim for good measure? Oh the lives that have been lost! And those that have been spared, but are suffering intense trauma just thinking about their ordeal in the hands of gunmen! I still have horrid memories of the day my mom was carjacked at gunpoint and terrorized all over Nairobi. She's never fully recovered from hearing those gunshots and coming face-to-face with death. But who is responsible? Do we blame the government? Do we blame the crappy law enforcement officers, who are probably the ones responsible for half the crimes? Do we blame poverty? Who the hell is responsible?

My dear friend M.N...I remember him from the days we were children. His younger sister was my best friend. My relationship with him always made me wish I had an older brother. He was always over protective. Full of adventure and an appetite for life. He lived his life and lived it fully. If he could speak one last time, his only regret would probably be the fact that he didn't live long enough to marry his beautiful fiancee and start a family. I don't know anyone as generous, as fun loving, as kind, and as passionate as this man. May God rest his soul in peace, and may the people he's left behind find the strength to face another day.

Shuga - Justified Hype or Not?

2009-12-11T18:11:00.000-08:00

Well, if you visit the Kenyan blogs or any Kenyan social networking site, no doubt you've heard the hype that's MTV Ignite's "Shuga"...a public service announcement about HIV transmission that stresses the importance of knowing one's status in a creative, subtle way that's not preachy, condemning, etc. I can see why this...movie? mini-series? (still not sure what it is)...has garnered such attention in Kenya. Before I continue, here's some housekeeping disclaimers and a link to Jmmk's post with links to the "Shuga" episodes.

For starters, I'm a certified HIV test counselor, so I've seen it all and heard it all. The lens through which I view HIV is from a public health perspective, and I always try not to let my personal bias enter the picture (in true Kenyan cultural upbringing, I am socially conservative).

Ok, now on to this movie/mini-series. The one word I would use to describe it is "SURPRISING". This spoken by someone whose vivid memories of the social scene in Kenya include women being stripped on the streets of Nairobi for wearing short skirts; and who can forget the warning "This program is unsuitable for children under 18" every time The Bold and The Beautiful came on! So of course for me, seeing a chick in a short dress boarding a matatu, and close ups of people kissing, and even Ayira's underwear clad body was surprising to me. Evidently, a lot has changed about what's socially acceptable in Kenya. Which leaves me wondering if this was airing during prime time and if the kiddos watched it with their parents (kissing scenes were usually the cue to change the channel).

My constant question as I watched Shuga was "how realistic is this movie?" On one score, I think it's very realistic, but on another score, I think not.

Realistic: If you're familiar with any Kenyan party scene, then you've probably witnessed all the characters portrayed in the movie. The all-night raving, the over indulgence of alcohol, the showing off of cars, the virgin that's always being pressured but wants to do the "right" thing, etc. Whether in Kenya or abroad, I think Shuga did a good job in portraying how Kenyans party in general. Even the portrayal of the sleeping around for monetary reasons is realistic, we all know such characters.

Unrealistic: There's the finer details of testing itself, i.e. if you have unprotected sex with an HIV+ person, it takes 3-6 months to get an accurate result. So, even if Violet tested negative and Skola positive, it was too soon for her to be celebrating her negative status. I am yet to meet a single Kenyan that has not been touched by HIV, be it a family member or friend. How many of those HIV+ people close to you freely talked about their status? How did society treat them and talk about them? How did you personally feel? The theme of "acceptance" that's portrayed in Shuga is rather unrealistic. Put yourself in Ty's shoes: you've been steadily dating someone and are even ready to get married. Then you discover they've been cheating on you with an HIV+ person and put you at great risk. My guess is that it will take a long time for you to get over the initial anger. And for many people, cheating is a huge deal breaker, HIV+ or not.
Perhaps acceptance was supposed to tie in with the message of people getting tested and knowing their status: a goal to strive for. As young people, we tend to think we're invisible and certain things only happen to some people and not "me".

Judging by some of the posts already up, and the comments left, both here at KBW and social networking sites like Facebook, it's pretty obvious that Shuga has its supporters and its opposers. And that's a good thing as it brings about public dialogue and debate. And if the film will lead some people to do some soul-searching and get tested, Shuga will have accomplished one of its objectives.

The bottom line is, ABSTINENCE ONLY SEX EDUCATION DOES NOT WORK!! It was kind of amusing to see/hear how shocked the "grown-ups" were when that survey came out showing that Kenyan youth are having plenty of sex. Of course they are! And they always have, so stop with the over the top reactions. Face reality. Teens are having sex, and they will continue to have it no matter how many times we preach abstinence. The best thing to do for our youth is educate them on how to protect themselves against HIV and other STDs, and teach them to take responsibility for their actions. For those that decide the best way to do that is by abstaining...good for them! Unfortunately, a majority won't. It's time we stopped burying our heads in the sand and pretending that every unmarried person is a virgin, or more accurately, should be a virgin. And even those that are married are known to stray. Otherwise, HIV rates among married couples wouldn't be so high.

I say, kuddos Shuga, for starting yet another HIV dialogue, and putting it in a context that the average campus student in Kenya can relate to. For those that think it's too "westernized", that's part of what's going on with our young Kenyans. They're busy becoming "westernized".

The Eleventh Commandment

2009-12-08T15:44:00.000-08:00

Who would have thought a small car accident on his own property would turn Tiger Wood's life upside down? (The paps probably know what these celebs do before the celebs go out and do it...damn!)While the media circus is ridiculous, and with all these women and their mamas claiming to have had sex with Cheater...I mean Tiger...I couldn't help but marvel at how sloppy this dude is. It's like he was begging to get caught.

Now, all of us can probably name 5 - 10 men that we personally know that have cheated on their wives/girlfriends. Asked to come up with the same number of women, we would probably be at a loss. Does that mean women don't cheat as much as men? Of course not! They probably cheat more; it's just that they've mastered "The eleventh commandment: Thou shalt not get caught".

I remember my first year of college in undergrad, my roommate also happened to be my best friend from high school. I was dating a guy I'd met right after graduation and that relationship lasted my entire first year. Everything was going great, but towards the end of the year, I started suspecting he was cheating on me partly because of his sudden change in behavior and habits. That summer, after our first anniversary, I broke up with him because I no longer trusted him. A week later, I found out from my cousin that he was seen at a party cozying up with my best friend. Of course I was shocked! This girl had been my friend since high school. I thought I knew all her secrets...from first kiss, to when she lost her virginity (I had to sleep in another friend's room that night), I could even tell you what she ate for dinner. Plus, we were roommates, had mutual friends and did almost everything together. And I never suspected a thing, nor could I fathom when she was able to do the creeping (turns out when I was busy putting in my 3-4 hours of volunteer work at the hospital, she was getting it in with my man). Had all three of us not had the same circle of friends, I might never have discovered that my boyfriend was cheating on me with my best friend.

I have never cheated on a man, and I like to believe that before things get that bad, I will have tried to rectify the problem or walked out before I cheat. But, I don't know that for a fact (shit happens!) So, if, theoretically, I were to cheat, everything would have to conform to the 11th commandment:

For starters, I would avoid the first blatant mistake Woods made and cheat with someone who has as much to lose as I do. That's key motivation for silence. And silence is the only way to not get caught. When you're a multi millionaire/billionaire cheating with a waitress....'nuff said! This really, is the most important thing. Everything else is common sense: avoid PDA, don't use credit cards, don't call each other, etc. Then again, common sense is not so common...

Has it Really Been a Year?

2009-12-07T15:02:00.000-08:00

Damn! How fast time flies! Can't believe I haven't visited the blogs since last year. Well, I can't close the year without a single post. Oh, what school can do to you.

Was just reading my last post and remembering how depressed I was a year ago. It's true, time does heal all wounds. I am 100% over my ex, the death of my favorite unce and father figure doesn't hurt as much anymore....even my academic performance and finances have improved.

But, I'm still really bad at picking men. I think it's a disease. I keep joking to my family that they need to do one of those arranged marriages for me or else they'll end up with the weirdest in-law they've ever heard of. After all, I am turning 26 in less than 2 months and all my friends seem to be jumping the broom and popping out kiddies like popcorn machines. That little fact hasn't gone unnoticed by my family. Why in the hell would my aunties and grandmas ask me on a monthly basis whether I found a "new catch" (who uses such phrases?) My parents, who were always anti-marriage while in school, are suddenly worried that I'm not being "social" enough. My dad bluntly pointed out to me this past summer that I'll be graduating in less than 3 years and once I add that "Dr." title to my name, it's gonna be exponentially harder to meet eligible men (instinct tells me it'll be the opposite, but with Kenyan men, you never know). One of my aunts is even using phrases like "import a husband from Kenya"....gotta love these people.

All in all, this has been a progressively good year. After having a complete meltdown, the school year ended well, I spent the summer in Kenya doing volunteer service and meeting lots of hot, single, successful men (my love of Kenyan men was forever renewed), my second year in school is more stress-free, and I'm involved enough with community service that I'm finally feeling like my motivated, passionate self again. Even the social scene in this God-forsaken, middle-of-nowhere city has improved and if it wasn't for the lack of family, I might even venture to say I'm kinda starting to like it. Although I'll be damned if I stay here for residency!

And of course, can't forget to thank God for making all this possible. 2008 was a horrible year, 2009 has been a tolerable year, and I hope 2010 will be a successful, purpose-filled (and fulfilled) year. Cheers!

Happy Thanksgiving?

2008-11-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

There's no worse feeling in the world than loneliness. Or so it seems. Whenever I get lonely, which seems to be happening more and more often, I tend to do dumb things to try and get over it. Like go on shopping sprees and spend money I don't have. Or start fooling around with a man I wouldn't be caught dead with by my family and friends. Or put off studying in search of more exciting things like parties.

And here I am, once again, sitting at Barnes and Nobles when all my friends have taken flights to go home and visit their families for thanksgiving. Yes. That feeling of loneliness is creeping up on me. I know this because I've been sitting here for 2 hours and rather than study, I've been reading blogs and searching for a good spa to go get a deep tissue massage. This is the first time in my life I've found myself in a city with no relative in site. This is certainly the first time in all the years I've been in the US that I'm spending thanksgiving without my family. And I'm hating it. I could be at home right now, doing grocery shopping with my dad, trying to beat the lines. I could be arguing with my mom over what time we should wake up to start cooking. I could be bossing my brother around to get him to do the cleaning before the rest of the clan shows up tomorrow. My cousins keep calling and asking why I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not immune to the economic mess. Especially after the kind of year I've had. When my dad can't even afford $400 to bring his daughter home for the holidays, you know things are bad. But, I still applaud my parents for all the sacrifices they've made this year to help other family members who've certainly needed the help.

I have a Kenyan friend around here who has a few relatives and they're getting together for thanksgiving tomorrow. I'm invited, yet I feel like I'm intruding on a private family event. Whether or not I go depends on how I feel when the time comes. If I don't go, then I'll just have to rent movies and go on a cooking spree. All my favorite joints will be closed anyway, so I'm doomed to stay at my apartment. What a depressing thought. And on top of that, I'm supposed to average 6-8 hours of studying everyday for the next 5 days. Yet, I can't concentrate. I'm too busy dreaming about summer and trying to come up with a good project so I can spend the entire summer in Kenya rather than make a quick visit and have to come back and work as an intern with some random doctor. I'm too busy missing my family, and eagerly awaiting christmas, the one time I'm gonna see my family on a happy occassion this year where no one is sick or mourning. I can't wait to close out what has been one of the most difficult years of my life thus far. Yes, I have a lot to be thankful for this year, but a lot to be sad about also. Perhaps looking ahead to January 1 can be one more thing to be thankful about. It'll be the beginning of a new year. One, hopefully, filled with new beginnings. Once again, I ask myself what the hell drove me to move so far away for school when I didn't have to. Right now, I can't think of a single good reason. Yes, happy thanksgiving indeed.

Un-professionalism

2008-10-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

In celebration of successfully finishing our initiation into medicine (buh bye gross anatomy!), we had a huge party on Friday night. Not only did our class show up, our profs, deans, and TA's were present. For some strange reason, I get a mildly uncomfortable feeling during such events. Students, alcohol, and Deans don't mix very well in my opinion. After a couple of drinks, professionalism almost always goes out the window and a lot of inappropriate behaviors are exhibited. While I enjoy meeting my profs and deans in a casual, laid-back setting, I'm always careful to maintain an appropriate level of respect and professionalism. Just cuz we're not in class does not give me a leeway to suddenly start dropping "F" words every other sentence. Maybe it's the Kenyan in me. But, I lost a lot of respect for some people that Friday. There's just something strange about seeing your prof drunk and staggering around. But, there's something even stranger about seeing a fellow student drunk and throwing herself at an equally drunk TA. I just can't look at these people with the same level of respect. Who woulda thought? I guess I'm a little conservative after all. And I'm gonna be skipping the halloween party on Friday.

Getting Political

2008-10-12T17:52:00.000-07:00

In the last few months, I've met so many ignorant peeps mpaka they pushed me to become more active in politics. It started with a small donation online, then came the T-shirts, then the volunteering. Finally, I attended a rally to hear the words straight from the horse's mouth, minus all the pundit BS on TV. Hence, my first political rally. If you've listened to McCain-Palin lately, I hope that's enough motivation to go out and vote if you're eligible, or volunteer for the Obama campaign, especially on election day. I took these photos at the rally, and for the record, is this man hot, or is he HOT!! (Of course, that's not a reason to vote for him, but having a good-looking president can't hurt).

http://www.barackobama.com/index.php

Hiatus over...sort of

2008-10-12T17:17:00.000-07:00

I'm finally rearing my head (Palin alert!) after a very, very long unplanned break. What can I say? Life is full of domino effects. I'm sure I've missed out on plenty of hot topics in the blogosphere, hopefully I'll catch up with time.

So what's new with me? My boyfriend (ex-) Steve proposed this past summer. Obviously, I said no and that relationship went to hell after that. It was the most unromantic moment of my life. (Who the hell proposes over the phone, a day after making up following 2 weeks of fighting, and after a year of long distance? Where's my ring? Obviously, that's not the reason I said no, but seriously!?) On the other hand, I can't believe I held on to that relationship as long as I did. Lesson learned: don't get too serious with a guy if you have no intention of settling down anytime soon, even if he pretends that he's willing to wait for you as long as it takes.

After a week of moping around and totally neglecting my schoolwork, I pissed my friends off enough for them to drag me to a birthday party. I never regretted it, as I found me a hot boy toy to help me get over Steve. Except, the boy toy has one side that screams "RUN!" and another side that has the potential to make me fall for him really hard. But, I do enjoy playing with fire and my curiosity is preventing me from running, so I'm gonna stick around and see what happens. At least he's the most intriguing person I've ever met and being the judgmental person that I am, I'm having trouble pegging his character down and that's driving me crazy.

On the brighter side of things, I did start med school and so far so good. I just can't believe how busy it is! I was prepared for busy, but I don't think I fully grasped that concept. Between spending hours in Anatomy lab (2 more weeks!), six to eight hours at Starbucks studying everyday, volunteering, shadowing, and tons of meetings, it's a wonder I even have time for my new playboy. But, he does come in handy for those stressful exam weeks. His massages are off the hook.

Ok, will try and keep this baby updated. I really do miss blogging, and there are days I have must-blog-moments that I should share. So hopefully, I stay with it. In the meantime, happy week blogging everyone!

Anybody see anything wrong with this picture?

2008-06-13T06:42:00.001-07:00

Tuesday Blues

2008-06-10T21:20:00.000-07:00

It's not Monday, but I'm still singing the blues. What can I say, I'm missing my baby. Or more accurately, I'm getting frustrated with being in a long distance relationship. At first, I didn't wanna even attempt it. Of course, I don't know a single couple that has survived one of these LDR's. More often than not, one person cheats, or the couple drifts so far apart that they wonder what happened. That was my line of reasoning, but somehow, I was ok with giving it a shot. Why not? What was there to lose.

So, here we are. Nine months later. A lot has happened in nine months. Tragedies, sickness, meeting the clan, even a near proposal (that I unknowingly squashed by describing my ideal engagement ring, leading to a postponement of the plan....thank God for brothers who keep you in the loop). When I think about it, he's everything I could possibly want in a man. Of course he's got his weaknesses, namely, I wish he were more ambitious and aggressive. But then, we can't have two such people in a relationship, otherwise, there'll be fireworks daily. Yet, I crave those fireworks.

I feel like I'm simply going through the motions of being a girlfriend. We've talked every single day since I moved, had a few fights too, but nothing we couldn't work out. Now, I don't even initiate the phone calls. When he does call, I find myself getting impatient and wondering how fast I can get him off the phone. Lately, I've found myself wondering when was the last time we shared a good laugh, or had a good conversation. I can't remember. I consciously made a decision that will lead to my not to seeing him this summer, choosing instead to put my family first. Perhaps it's the stress of the last few months that's taking its toll, or maybe the looming life and death surgery of my favorite uncle that's got me distracted. Whatever it is has really done me in this time. I've always been positive that the two of us would somehow end up together, yet I find myself questioning if I really wanna make that commitment. All evidence screams "yes", but still...

On another side note, anyone ever been to a Nonini concert? Wanna venture an opinion? I'm on a mission to meet more Kenyans in this city (although I'll admit that a Nonini concert is probably not the place to go looking for friends). But, I'm not looking to make friends as much as I'm looking for party friends. I don't understand the American bar culture. At least I can dance at a club, but none of my new friends seem to enjoy the clubbing scene. I find this strange as it is the complete opposite of what I'm used to. Before I moved here, I'd never been inside a bar. Anyway, back to Nonini concert, is it worth attending?

YES.WE.CAN

2008-06-03T19:46:00.001-07:00

Hard to believe, but I am a political junkie. Every single issue facing us as individuals or as a society can be traced back to the policies enacted by our politicians, and as such, I believe it's everyone's responsibility to know and keenly follow what is going on in politics and take an interest in issues that affect our lives. Never in my years spent following politics have I felt this happy and hopeful for a country. Indeed, I was afraid to do the one thing that Senator Obama encouraged his supporters to do: BELIEVE. Yet, here he is tonight, making his nomination speech.

For obvious reasons, this is a historic moment in this country. The fact that an African American man is running competitively to become the next president of the world's superpower is amazing and truly meaningful, not just for Senator Obama's supporters, but for every single person in America as this reflects on yet another chapter in our history. If you are a black person living in America and have tried to explore territory that is primarily considered "white", then I'm sure you can have a personal appreciation for what Senator Obama's victory could potentially mean. Whether it's at work in corporate America, or in other institutions where your skin color subconsciously raises eyebrows as to whether or not you "really" know what you're doing. I feel hopeful that perhaps this will open a door to improve race relations in this country and encourage more minorities to step out of their comfort zones and aim higher; and those that do, I hope this opens a door for them to be evaluated more objectively based on their qualifications, rather than stereotypes based on skin color.

And so tonight, I join all of Obama's supporters in saying CONGRATULATIONS. As much as I would have loved to see a woman take that mantle, it's obvious that we don't have the right candidate for that yet. Ladies, our time will come. For now, I'll bask in the knowledge that the economy and healthcare (especially healthcare, where my passion lies) in this country will be greatly improved in the next few years should Obama become president.

I look forward to August 28, on the 45th anniverssary of Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech. I look forward to hearing what Senator Obama has to say on that day, and how he will honor the King, who helped pave way for this day.

Puppy Love

2008-05-25T03:20:00.000-07:00

Unable to sleep, I decided to work on my PowerPoint presentation while listening to some background music. Then this song started playing and for a brief second, my entire first romance came flashing through my mind. I love the way songs have a way of capturing a moment so perfectly.

It was around 5:30 p.m on a Wednesday and as usual, Mike was over at my place hanging out. We had already spent the last three months pretending to be "just friends", even though by this time, he had given me a single red rose, told me how hot he thought I was, given me countless little pecks, and we had even developed a little routine. He would come over to my house every weekday at around 4:30 after school. We would sit and watch TV or talk about nothing in particular. Then at 5:30, we would go for a very long walk which usually ended up at some hills where we would sit and watch the sunset. Then he would walk me home, say bye with a hug or a peck and turn around and leave.

On this particular day, we were sitting on the couch talking with the radio on in the background. We were getting ready to head out for our daily walk, and I had just reached for the remote to turn the stereo off when K-Ci and Jojo started singing. That song had just come out and was a new hit. Out of nowhere, Mike asked me to dance, and feeling a little shy, I agreed. The first minute or so was ok, then I started noticing things for the first time. I noticed how tall he was, my head was resting on his chest. It seemed like for the first time, I could smell his scent, which was clean and slightly perfumed. I became aware of my own heart beat, and started paying special attention to his hand wrapped around my waist. I also noticed an odd feeling that I'd never experienced before.

As soon as the song was over, I pulled back, but Mike did not let go of my waist. Instead, he stared at me intently and I had no choice but to look into those deep brown eyes before quickly looking away and blushing. Then I noticed him for the first time. Really noticed him. He was actually very good looking and had the whitest, sexiest smile I have ever seen on a guy. My body seemed to be experiencing all sorts of weird sensations and my heart was almost jumping out of my chest. I needed some fresh air. As I made the move to disentangle myself from his grip, he lowered his head and before I could digest what the hell was going on, his lips were on mine and his tongue was busy trying to pry my mouth open. Finally, I gave in and parted my lips, and a few seconds later, I heard an "ouch".

Effectively, that moment was dead. Poor guy was holding onto his mouth while I apologized profusely. Yes, I bit his tongue. It was my first kiss after all. That day, our walk seemed different. We didn't say a single word to each other and when we finally reached our spot on the hill and sat down to watch the sunset, he uttered his first words. They were words of advice on how to kiss. Somehow, I should have been embarassed, but the way he put it made me at ease and we even laughed about his bitten tongue. He went on to give me tips and we had plenty of practice after that.

Our little routine continued for another few months before I moved to boarding school to start form one. We never officially decided we were dating, and we never officially said goodbye. As quietly and suddenly as he had entered my life, he was gone. He gave me a really great first impression on relationships. I've never seen him nor heard from him since, and I do wonder whether he ever fulfilled his dream of becoming a lawyer. Maybe someday we will bump into each other. It's not an entirely strange hope. It is a small world after all. Cheers to all first innocent loves. There are days I wish I could rewind the clock.

Confession is Good for the Soul

2008-05-21T03:10:00.000-07:00

I'm up three whole hours before my alarm goes off (why?!) and I thought it might be fun in a twisted kind of way to follow HnH's lead and confess. Yikes!

Cruelest thing I have ever done (so far)
Way back when I was in primo, I was very shy and withdrawn. Needless to say, that meant I wasn't one of the popular kids since I preferred to read and mind my own business. It came as a surprise to me (and a lot of classmates) when I became friends with one of the most popular kids in the class. Of course being popular comes with a price tag, so I took it upon myself to start bullying and teasing another shy, quiet girl. This only made me more popular. I called her names in front of the whole class, and even though I hated the feeling, I kept at it. It wasn't until I saw her in my church a month later that I was utterly mortified. Turned out she actually went to my church and my mom and her mom were friends. I never apologized, she never said anything to her mom, but I never teased or bullied her again.

One thing that I have ever done that I regret
Agreeing to go out on a date with a certain DJ after a year of being friends and flirting like crazy during his gigs at bashes. I knew it was a bad idea from the beginning, but I went ahead and stifled that little voice in my head. I have never been so sorry in my life. That was the last date I went on before I met my current boo, Steve.

One thing I have ever done that was wrong but I didn't regret
I stole Steve's phone (which was dead), went and bought a charger for it, read his text messages, then called him and told him about the stolen phone (hence my first hilarious posts on this blog titled "psycho-gal"). In retrospect, that was the best thing I ever did for our relationship...LOL..I can feel some guys flinching...

Best revenge I have ever had
When I was in college as an undergrad, I had a Kenyan roommate that was actually the best roommate I've ever had in my life (as far as co-existing in the same space goes). Over the course of the year, we became good friends, so it came as a complete shock to me when I found out she was sleeping with my boyfriend. First thing I did was kick her out (we lived in the dorms, but I didn't care). She was a member of one of those online Kenyan forums and she had a sexy-sounding name and was very fond of bashing other people's looks whenever they posted their photos. Since she ain't all that good looking, I found the worst possible photo of her and posted it on that website. That post got over a thousand hits and all the comments the photo received were negative. I was very satisfied.

Worst fantasy
You know, hate is a very strong word. I generally don't hate people (at least not for very long), rather I dislike them and if they're really bad, like roommate above, I dislike them intensely. But, there's one person in my life that I hate and abhor for forever screwing me over. For that person, I always fantasize that they die a very slow and painful death that involves beatings, torture, and eventually, fire. Yeah.

Worst lie I ever told
As an undergrad, I was one of those studious students that every teacher loves. One day, after a weekend rendezvous, I woke up to the realization that I had an exam that week that I totally forgot about. Since I would need more that the two days I had to study if I wanted to get an A, I wrote my prof an email and told him that I was out of town for a funeral (I don't even remember whose funeral I said it was). I skipped class that week and after the exam, I went to his office and started sobbing uncontrollably (out of guilt), saying I was having a hard time concentrating and I didn't think I could take the test and pass. Well, that day I learned it pays to be a teacher's pet. Let's just say I didn't have to take the exam and wrote a paper instead. I still feel guilty and I could never look the prof in the eye after that. I didn't even go to him for a recommendation letter, even though I knew his would probably be one of the strongest letters I will ever get in my life.

One person I would kill if I could get away with it
See "worst fantasy" above

Moment I wish I could reverse
One summer, my family took a road trip and I somehow met a Kenyan guy that was everything a girl could ask for. He was doing his Ph.D, was very hot, and after a few hours spent together, I knew he had a good personality. We exchanged email addresses and kept in touch for a year. The next summer, I decided to do an internship at his school, and of course this was a fling waiting to happen. Back then, I was still a commitment phobe, so I made it very clear that this was a summer fling and nothing more. On my very last day there before I left, he used the "L" word. My reaction is something I wish I could take back. I've broken plenty of hearts, but I've never hurt a guy as bad as I hurt him.

One (bad?) thing I would really really like to do before I die
Make out with another girl...

There, now I can get ready for class. Looks like I'll be making plenty of trips to Starbucks to help me get through the day :(

Life Sure Ain't a Bed of Roses

2008-05-19T19:55:00.000-07:00

I just looked at my last post and it seems like that post was written a decade ago. I still can't believe it's only been five months since the year started on a sour note politically and spiralled downhill from there in my own personal life. While I was posting about blogging responsibly and trying to get together my friends and family to donate to the victims of election violence, I had no idea that my own family was about to fall victim to the sudden violence that creeped up on us. From there, it was one piece of bad news after another. I will probably get to blog about some of it in the coming weeks.

Amid all the tribulations, I can still look back and be thankful that things were not worse. I was afraid that I would somehow lose my spot in med school after my grades went south due to all the personal ish I was trying to deal with, but I do thank God that somehow, I made it through and will be matriculating in August. Another lesson learnt: never underestimate the power of love, be it from family, friends, or a lover. It makes all the difference in the world.

Special thanks to the few concerned bloggers that sent me emails wondering where I disappeared off to. I'm back now. My posts might be a little intermittent, but they'll be there nonetheless!

Online Donations for Violence Victims

2008-01-04T05:57:00.000-08:00

Like many KBW members, I have been in search of an organization that's currently involved in the humanitarian efforts in Kenya and accepts online donations. As Mutumia's post indicates, such organizations are scarce to come by.

I have contacted the Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA) and requested that they put up a link on their parent web page so people can donate online specifically for the Kenyan victims. As it stands, they do have a branch in Kenya and they are responding in the humanitarian efforts, but like the Kenya Red Cross Society, ADRA Kenya's website does not have a provision for credit card donation. The earliest I'll get any feedback from them is Monday. I'm praying that this works. We really need a place to make donations.

Let me also take this opportunity to thank everyone who is working to help our country in whatever way they can. And to the KBW community, please remember: BLOG RESPONSIBLY and be mindful of the kind of comments you make.

Where Did We Go Wrong?

2007-12-30T20:46:00.000-08:00

I'm not one to write about politics, but after all that's going on, how can I not? My dear Kenyans, what have we done? How did we allow things to go so wrong? I don't recall ever crying over something I've read or heard in the news, but every time I hear about the chaos that have descended upon our beloved country, I can't help but weep. I weep for the many innocent people that are being killed mercilessly in the name of elections. I weep for my fellow Kenyans that are sitting in their homes in Kenya, not knowing what's going on outside the walls of their homes.

After hearing about all the ethnic hatred and supposed ("supposed" because I don't have any "proof" aside from word of mouth) massacre of Kikuyus in Nyanza, I found myself wondering what fate holds for those Luos in Kikuyu land. Immediately, one of my good friends popped to mind and I decided to call her and make sure she and her family are ok. She told me that some people in her neighborhood were going around looking for Luos two days ago and she hasn't come out of the house so she doesn't know if those people are still there waiting.

I was surprised to hear about the extent of the gag order on the media. She has no idea what else has happened in Kenya since Kibaki was sworn in, and all she knows is that there are protests but doesn't know how bad things really are. She has no idea what Raila said about the Uhuru Park meeting at his last press conference. She lamented about the inability of both the government and the opposition leaders to communicate directly to people via the media. She and her family are scared to death.

I am appalled at the sentiments being carelessly expressed online by both ODM and PNU supporters. Despite the fact that Kibaki has won, it doesn't matter that you supported or even voted for him. In my opinion, there is no cause for celebration when the country has degenerated into violence and people are being killed. These same people dying could end up being your family or friends, and even if they aren't, there's still no reason to celebrate when innocent Kenyans are shedding blood and the landscape of Kenya is quickly appearing to be a war zone. Hold your horses and pray for peace.

And those in ODM. Yes, a lot of things went wrong with the results. Still, that's no reason to start preaching hatred and calling for the killing of Kikuyus. Whoever holds these sentiments should be deeply ashamed and needs to seriously do a self evaluation and some soul searching. You can't sit in the comfort of your home abroad and spread hate and death on your brothers and sisters when you know damn well that you are safely tucked away. Think of your brothers and sisters back home.

It doesn't matter whether you're Kikuyu, Luo, or any other tribe. When there's violence, death is indiscriminate. In the end, we will all suffer as Kenyans. Please, let's put our political and tribal differences aside and join together as one nation. We fought too hard for peace and freedom, and no single person is worth throwing it all away in a day. Let's all play a role in restoring peace in our beloved Kenya. And we can start right here on the internet.

PLEASE, BLOG RESPONSIBLY!!!

What Breed is THIS?!

2007-11-09T07:33:00.000-08:00

Now, in my short lifetime, I've had the (mis)fortune of meeting men that are truly from Mars, although sometimes I do wonder if some of these creatures haven't mutated and become totally new aliens, even to their fellow Martians. Seriously, what kinds of men do these things? Take for example Mr. Desperate. I had a semester long class with him and aside from acknowledging each other as the only two black students in that class, we didn't have much else in common and to that effect, we never hang out outside of class. Even in class, only polite words were exchanged. So imagine my surprise when at the end of the semester, the guy decides to propose. Yes! PROPOSE!! And he wasn't kidding. No! He was dead serious and he had a ring(a cheap one, but that's beside the point) and even went ahead to give me this long speech about how beautiful, smart, yadda yadda yadda I am. I was so shocked, I simply stared and didn't say a word.

Then there's Mr. Manipulator. When I met him, he seemed cool enough. He was an army sergeant so my first thought was "at least he's disciplined". Everything was going great on the first couple of dates. He was funny, charming, smart, etc. The first sign of trouble came two weeks later when he picked me up from school and his first question was "You didn't go to class looking like that, did you? Cuz I'm the only one that should be seeing your fine booty." Ok! I was wearing capris and a tank top...big freakin' deal. The next day, he went out and bought me an expensive (and by expensive, I mean EXPENSIVE) diamond necklace, which I promptly returned. That's when his true colors came out. He started throwing a tantrum like a 2-year-old and I decided to break up with him. Little did I know that I had just exposed myself to a stalker. He started calling me and begging me to give him a chance, threatened to kill himself, and even said he was being deployed to Iraq so I should give him a reason to go off and fight and come back alive. Of course the calls were ignored. Then I would find him outside my apartment and he would cry and cry and cry and make more suicide threats. I filed a complaint with the police, but since my lease had expired anyway, I moved to a different apartment and switched my cell number. He still managed to track me down, but thank God for restraining orders!

But the one who wins it all is Mr. Desperate-Weirdo. Now this one, our moms were classmates in high school. He must, therefore, feel like he has a divine right to me or something. To a casual observer, he is smart (let me add "very" for effect), very BOOK smart. We somehow found ourselves travelling down the same career path and he took this to be a God-sent sign that he and I were meant to be. Nothing remotely romantic has ever happened between us, but he has never made his "love" for me secret. He even goes around telling people that he and I are dating and we're gonna get married when we're done with med school. Did I mention how much I loathe this guy? He has done and said a lot of inappropriate and offensive things and no matter how much I try to tell him to leave me alone, he just doesn't get it. The fact that our parents are such good friends makes it that much harder to get rid of him. Despite all the weird stuff he's ever done (including calling my parents to request a meeting to discuss dowry...yeah, dude's on crack), nothing beats his latest BS. He called me early in the morning to tell me about a dream he had. This dream happens to be erotic and the idiot proceeded to start narrating the details of our supposed sex act. I did cut him short and was so mortified that I couldn't help but wonder if he's NORMAL. Really, what kind of guys go around telling girls they're not dating that they've been fantasizing and jerking off on their account? Maybe Martians can enlighten this poor Venusian on these things, or do you also think these guys are mutants?

The Kite Runner

2007-10-21T17:19:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, our bookworms blog died due to poor management, (HnH, Bantu, don't kill me for saying that) so I'll use this space to rave and rant about this novel and issues surrounding it.

I'm an avid reader, and it's not everyday I read a book with a story line that leaves a lasting impression on me (in fact, I can't even remember the title of the book I read before Kite Runner).

This is a powerful story about an Afghani who immigrated to the U.S. and is sharing his life story, going all the way back to his childhood in the 70's before the Russians invaded Afghanistan, when there was peace in that country, and a degree of freedom that will, perhaps, never exist again (at least in our lifetime).

Nevertheless, the caste system was rife, with the Pushtans being the elites and the Hazaras being their servants and considered the "scum" of society.

The story is told by Amir, a Pushtan, whose dad was a successful businessman, and is centered on his friendship with Hassan, the son of his father's servant - a Hazara. While growing up, they were like best friends, although they both understood their place in society. At the age of 12, Amir watched as the neighborhood bully sodomized Hassan, and he did nothing to help him. Aside from the political turmoil that affected Amir's life, this single event forever changed his life, defining his character, and setting off a chain of events that he would later regret.

I don't want to give away the plot, but this is one book I would highly recommend because the story is told with bluntness and a reality that makes it hard to believe that it's a novel, not a memoir. There are many scenes that are difficult to read due to their graphic nature, and there are so many tragedies that by the end of the book, all you can do is sigh in relief because you feel you can't handle one more tragedy. There are plenty of surprises in the plot too and this makes it that much better.

One of my greatest pet peeves with many novels is the "happily ever after" way in which the author chooses to end his/her story. There is nothing happy about the way this book ends, just a glimmer of hope. Rightly so too, because you really can't take two big tragedies like rape and war and sugar coat them because the effects on people are real and unfortunate.

Then comes the "controversial" movie. If what the family of the 12-year-old actor is saying is the truth (and I bet it is), then the film makers ought to be ashamed of themselves for lying to the family and cajoling the boy to act out the rape scene with the promise to take it out later. Of course if you take out the rape scene, then the movie doesn't make much sense since it is central to the plot.

The movie was slated for release in November, but it has now been pushed to December with the promise to take the actor and his family out of Afghanistan until next spring when the hype surrounding the movie dies. I'm not sure I like the way the film makers handled this. They should have been more forthcoming during casting in the first place and made full disclosure to the family about the content of the movie before the boy signed the contract. I'm not comfortable with the idea of uprooting a family from their home, especially since they'll still go back, and people may not be as forgetful as you would hope.

Dalili ya Mvua

2007-10-12T22:35:00.000-07:00

For real I'm in a dilemma. Why can't some choices in life be black and white and easy to make? How is it possible that you can want something, yet when it seems like it's a possibility it'll happen, you start tripping? What am I rambling on about?

Well, Steve and I have been dating for like a year and a half, and despite the mucho drama that accompanied our first few months together, and our recent switch to long distance, we're still going strong. This may seem like cliche, but within the first month we started dating, I had already decided that Steve was special, hence the patience and willingness to give him a chance, even when the odds seemed against him. In reality, it was during these drama filled days that his true character really shone through, and I loved what I saw. It was during this time that I decided I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. I was so sure of this to the point where, before I moved, I told him that if he proposed, I would say "yes".

Now, he's starting to show the "dalili" to propose and I'm starting to freak out. The other day we happened to be talking about one of my friends that's getting married and somehow the topic switched to wedding rings. It was during this period that he let it slip that he'd visited a few jewelry stores. I pretended I didn't hear that part and started joking about how huge my rock has to be.

Then came the phone conversation today. We've both had a rough week and even though I could tell there was more going on with him, tonight I wasn't emotionally prepared to cheer him up as I needed some cheering up myself. Needless to say, our conversation was lukewarm and we both hang up in frustration. One of the things we don't ever do is go to bed angry at each other. Imagine my surprise when I received a text message from Steve, apologizing for his mood and confessing that he's been thinking about marriage.

Of course, that text went unreplied cuz suddenly, I was in panic mode. Do I wanna marry him? YES!!! However, I'm just starting a new phase of my life and I know exactly how my parents will react, especially my dad who doesn't believe in getting married while in school. I personally have no qualms about it and sometimes even imagine that it might be better for me to be married (with no kids) so I can get the kind of support that only a lover can offer as I go through med school. If I follow my dad's advice, I would have to wait at least five years to get married, which is fine by me, but makes no sense when I already know I wanna spend my life with this man.

On the other hand, if I go ahead and don't heed my parents' advice (eventually they'll come around if I'm hell bent on getting married), I worry that it could easily turn into one of those tragic "I told you so" stories where I might end up wishing I'd waited.

So I see the dalili of the propasal forthcoming, but I'm stuck in this dilemma. Should I follow my heart and let it rain or should I seek shelter? After all, all forecasts project a storm, not a drizzle...

Do You Believe...?

2007-09-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

You wake up one Sunday (or Saturday) morning after a night of partying and you don't feel tired at all. Unlike a normal weekend where you would have spent half the day in bed and the other half lazing around the house, you feel strangely energized and a sudden urge overcomes you. Somehow, you feel that you have to go to church. After all, it's only 9:00 in the morning and you haven't been to church in a few weeks. The longer you sit there debating it, the guiltier you feel about missing church all those weeks, and the stronger the urge to do something different for a change.

So you jump in the shower, pull out that modest dress you keep at the back of your closet for this occassion, go online and google a church. There are lots of churches that jump out at you and you randomly choose one, not because it's the nearest one, but because it's on a road you've heard of. By 10:30, you're ready to head out and hoping to make it to the 11:00 service.

You get to church fifteen minutes late and try to find a seat at the back, near the aisle, so you can slip out when the preacher starts getting boring. At least you'll still feel nice that you made it to church, even if it was only for an hour. Unfortunately for you, all the aisle seats are taken so you squeeze in between old ladies, miffed that you can't easily escape. You resolve to simply daydream when you get bored and suffer through the entire service. After all, it's only two hours.

Soon, the familiar ritual starts: announcements, song, prayer, song, offerings & tithes, song...right about now, you start thinking about what to do in the afternoon. You're only five minutes away from the mall, so you could go shopping right after service and call one of your friends to join you. Just as you're picturing that sexy pair of jeans you were gonna buy from Express, you hear someone sniffling.

You look up to find the choir leader in the process of introducing the song they're about to sing and all of a sudden she's overcome by bouts of crying...something about her best friend hurting her deeply. You roll your eyes and wonder why people always tell their life stories, especially when service is already running late. You look at the time: 12:45. Damn! The preaching hasn't even started. You're about to continue your shopping spree in your head when all of a sudden, some elderly lady takes the pulpit and proclaims, "The Holy Spirit is present here today".

Oh! Crap! You look around and everyone is either sniffling or their eyes are shining. You start wondering whether now would be a good time to make that escape, but then you realize you're stuck in the middle of the pew and can't exactly slip out unnoticed. You silently curse and try your hardest to block out what's happening. You've never been a big fan of stuff like this and you simply don't function very well in an emotionally charged environment, be it due to the "Holy Spirit", at a funeral, or whatever.

There's an eerie silence in the church. Even the piano is no longer playing in the background. That same old lady looks right at you and says, "The Holy Spirit impressed upon me to come up here and deliver a message from God..." You start freaking out because you realize that the lady still has her eyes fixed on you. "...there's a young lady here today who underwent some childhood trauma and has been struggling all her life..." By this time you are completely hyperventilating. "....and God wants you to know that...." The old lady's eyes are still trained on you and you feel blood rushing to your head and you're about to pass out. You tell yourself to stop being silly and try to prevent yourself from fainting, because you most certainly will. By the time that feeling passes, you realize that the lady has gotten off the podium. Worse yet, you didn't hear that last part of her message. You convince yourself that she was crazy, and even if she weren't, she was totally talking about someone else. I mean, how many young ladies are there in that whole church?

You spend the next hour trying to block out what you heard, but the voice in your head keeps nudging you to...do what? Find the lady and ask her what on earth she was talking about? As soon as service is over, you walk out, trying to make yourself invisible and head straight to your car. You forget all about the mall, head straight home, and vow never to go back to that church again. In a few days, you'll have convinced yourself that nothing ever happened.

Too Much Hype

2007-09-08T18:12:00.000-07:00

Have you ever waited so long to try out something because it seemed like the rest of the world had already tried it out and loved it and you were the only one left out? Have you ever gone to a super hyped up movie expecting the world to explode into fireworks, only to come out disappointed and wondering why you even bothered?

Well, that was me today. It had nothing to do with a movie though. I was talking to Steve on the phone and by the time I hang up, I was so horny I could have simply creamed myself without trying. I was lying in bed, sexually frustrated, when I suddenly remembered that somewhere deep in my yet to be unpacked suitcase lay a vibrator that Steve had gotten me as a going away present. I have never in my life used one, although I know plenty of chicks who have. I'm not sure why I've never owned one myself, but from all the hype surrounding the little toy, I've always wondered if it really is as good as it sounds.

I looked around my apartment, only to realize that I didn't have batteries. I was too horny to give up so I decided to go to the gas station across the street and get some. As I put the batteries in, my heartrate increased ten fold and I could barely contain my excitement. Finally, I was holding a vibrator in my hand and I was about to experience an earth shattering orgasm. Perhaps I could even have multiple orgasms for the first time in my life! A fleeting thought crossed my mind: what if I become addicted? What if it's so good that I never wanna have normal intercourse again? As I adjusted the speed on that vibrator, all thoughts evaporated and the only thing I wanted to do was close my eyes and prepare myself to go to heaven.

Ok, I realize this blog is rated G so let me skip the details. But, I have never been so disappointed in my life. First of all, the so called vibrations feel as though someone has a stick in there and is shaking it up and down, only there's not enough room to shake the stick. And the orgasm is no different than normal masturbation...nothing like the real deal. So how anyone can even become addicted to a vibrator is beyond me. I had to call Steve and let him know that I still prefer the real thing. All he could do was laugh, I'm not sure if it was out of pure amusement or relief that his girlfriend would still be horny when he came to visit.

So, if you're one of those chicks that's never used a vibrator and have always wondered what it feels like, believe me, there's nothing you're missing. And for the guys that are even remotely concerned about their chicks using a vibrator, really, there's no competition there.

2007-09-05T16:08:00.000-07:00

I had forgotten just how much I hate moving until I had to this past weekend, and it has been hell. The damn landlord was supposed to change the carpet and re-do the tiles and get me a new fridge before I moved in on Monday, but none of that happened. In fact, I ended up moving into my apartment on Tuesday, only to discover that not only did I not have my new fridge and floor, but the apartment had not been cleaned. I had to spend the night at a friend's house and I started orientation classes today. I came in to dump all my stuff in my apartment and I can't unpack until I scrub it spotless (I am borderline OCD so the clutter is driving me nuts).

On the other hand, the city ain't so bad. I haven't had much time to explore, but I like the atmosphere. Everyone in my program is really nice and I even bumped into a med student I did research with three years ago and he made my day. Steve and I are handling the separation really well, all things considered (but of course it's only been a few days). He's shopping for a ticket to come visit at the end of the month and I hope things work out with both our schedules.

It's so weird to be sitting back in a classroom. In fact, those guys are so cruel, they gave us a biochem test on our first day. It made me remember just how much I hated sitting still and listening to someone drone on and on, but at the same time, I remembered how much I'd missed the student lifestyle. I'm so glad I decided to defer my med school admission for a year so I could do this postbac program. For sure, I would have had a rough time adjusting to the fast pace of med school after working full time for so long. Now, it would be nice if I bumped into a few Kenyans on campus, hoping they don't turn out to be of dubious character.

Top Three Ways...

2007-08-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

Another dreary, foggy day. I guess that means summer's over. I'm moving in ten days and I still haven't done jack as far as packing goes, and I'm running around having coffee/lunch/dinner dates with everyone in my life except the one that counts the most: Steve. You'd think I'd be spending every waking minute with him, but it turns out I've only seen him once this whole week (keep in mind we used to see each other everyday). I must be weaning myself off him already.

This will be my first time ever being in a long distance relationship, and I thought it might be fun to hear from the veterans what their opinion is about:

a) Top three ways to make a long distance relationship work

b) Top three ways to ensure a long distance relationship doesn't last

Be creative, honest, funny...

Moving On

2007-08-21T21:51:00.000-07:00

Do you ever look back and pinpoint a single moment in your life when you knew nothing was ever going to be the same again? When your perspective of the world around you changed and you looked at yourself in the mirror and wondered who that stranger staring back at you was?

Since my last post, a lot has changed in my life. It's been a summer of major growing up and major changes. I finally got the opportunity of a lifetime and I'm about to embark on an incredible journey to build the career I always dreamed about, and to that end, I'm moving to a new city in two weeks. I've never been one to live in one city for too long, and after six years here, I'm ready for the change and looking forward to making new friends and exploring a new environment.

My view of love, friendship, family...life... has changed dramatically. And yes, those of you that were following the mini soap opera of my drama-filled relationship with Steve are probably wondering how that whole situation played out. It makes me wanna laugh out loud saying this, but...we're still together, somehow. Now we just have to see how the long distance pans out (I do know that LDRs don't work 99.9% of the time but really, after all the shit we put each other through, we might as well try it). Someday, I'm sure I'll continue where I left off and blog about how on earth I ever forgave him. Maybe I'm crazier than I think.

So, I hope you'll continue reading about the mundane happenings of my life as I read about yours. After all, what's the fun in living if you can't share your experiences (or lack of) with others, huh?

After the storm...

2007-08-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

Hello fellow bloggers, after a very long, much needed hiatus, I'm back. I missed you people's blogs and I look forward to reading your funny, serious, crazy, and sometimes meaningless blogs. This time, I'll hopefully have less drama to write about. My life has changed...really :)

Bad Jokes

2007-04-17T15:36:00.000-07:00

Here's a really bad joke Steve once sent me. Obviously, I don't have photographic memory so I'll paraphrase it and it probably won't come out right, but here goes. There was this blonde bimbo who went to visit the doctor and said, "doctor, I think my breasts are made of water". Puzzled, the doctor was silent for a few moments before asking, "what makes you think that"? The blonde bimbo, pleased with herself replied, "because everytime my boyfriend touches my nipples I get wet"....

Here's another really bad joke. Steve wants to get back with me. Here's the hard part. He enlisted the help of his dad to talk to me. You know, I've come to the conclusion that a lot of men are idiots. Steve insists that he never cheated on me with his ex, and in fact, he hadn't seen her in over a year. Apparently, she started calling him earlier this year and he started reminiscing about the relationship they had. He was still looking for closure because the chick had just walked out on him without an explanation why. His phone calls and emails had gone unreplied and finally he gave up. But, that never stopped him from wondering all the "what ifs" because they had been pretty serious (to the point where he almost proposed). Her latest reason for walking out? She was too busy with school and couldn't handle being in a relationship.

So what does the clever guy do when the chick starts calling him and claiming that she still loves him? He starts fantasizing about what could have been. He feels like he's torn between me and his ex. So he runs to daddy for advice. By the time I was reading that email, he hadn't resolved his feelings. After I asked him about it, he of course told me everything (the fool has always been honest) and I was super mad and just couldn't think straight for a few days. Since then, he's obviously had a chance to see the ex and he realizes that he was simply elevating her onto a pedestal and she's nothing like what he remembered. Hence the reason for his coming back to ask me to give him a second chance. Yes, and his dad agrees with him, perhaps because he adores me and has this image of "the perfect daughter-in-law to be".

Now, guys, please explain this phenomenon to me cuz I simply don't get it. How many times have I heard stories that closely resemble this? How in the world can he even justify us getting back together? He's quick to point out that he knows it'll take time to re-build the trust and all that BS, but seriously!! This is a no-brainer. Of course I need to look him in the eye and tell him to "fuck off" so I can move on with my life. Except....

There is that little matter of love. What a strong emotion that is! Sometimes, I even allow myself to entertain the idea that somehow, I can find it in me to ignore this minor "irritation" that is his ex and try to re-build the relationship. That's when I quickly pick up the phone and call my fav cousin for a pep talk. You know, the kind that goes like, "You are so beautiful, smart, with the personality of an angel. You can have any guy in the world". Or, "There are so many Steves out there, move on already". Or, "You are too young to even be in this situation. Let it go". Or my favorite, "Good heavens! You're starting to sound like those desperate chicks we hate."

Yeah, that does snap me back to my senses, until I go to sleep and lay in bed thinking about Steve. Wondering what he's doing, if he's also thinking about me. And then he'll send a text to say good night, and I know without a doubt that he is thinking about me. I'm seriously tripping, and I really should know better. I SHOULD.

It is Good to Snoop!

2007-03-28T13:49:00.000-07:00

My first few posts on this blog detailed my very first snooping experience where I actually stole Steve's phone, bought a charger, and read his texts. I felt pretty psychotic back then, but that didn't stop me from snooping around a second time. Actually, this time was pure luck. I've been so caught up in my emotional problems for the past few months mpaka all I could see was the total support that Steve has afforded me, totally ignoring anything that he might have said or done to raise an eyebrow.

Last week, we happened to be at my fav coffeeshop just chilling when he asked to use my laptop to check his email. He did and when he was done, I shut the computer off and we left for dinner. I didn't touch my computer again until last night. I got off work late and just needed to go sit at a coffeeshop and de-stress before heading home for the night. I got to the coffeeshop and took out my laptop to check emails. As soon as I clicked on Yahoo! mail, I found myself in Steve's inbox. "What the hell?!" I thought. Usually, once you close the window, Yahoo! automatically logs you out. I was about to sign out of his account and into mine when a thought occured to me. When on earth will I ever find myself logged onto Steve's email account with him nowhere in sight? This was too good of a temptation and even an angel couldn't have resisted.

So I started going through his mails, most of them junk and uninteresting. There was the occasional email from an ex who was now married, but there was nothing surprising there since he'd already told me most of the stuff I read. His inbox was cluttered with useless junk mails and I was bored. I almost logged out when I thought to check his sent mails. I mean, there's no junk in the "sent" folder, right? I saw a couple of emails he'd sent me, friends and then one lone name caught my eye. His last ex before he and I started dating. We've had a fight over this ex once before and the last I heard, they weren't even talking. Then here was this one email he'd sent with this line,

"You know I hate it when you start acting like that. It's been over 24 hours since you called me and I'm tempted to text you but I know I can't and it's driving me crazy. There, are you happy now? I'm going crazy..."

Yes, I have those lines burned into my skull. I was so furious! This was sent on Feb 10 of this year. The weekend when he told me that he needed some time alone to think. At the time, I thought my emotional issues were overwhelming him and he needed his space. Kumbe! I picked up the phone and called him. Nothing. He finally called me at 10:00 p.m. sounding all tired. I was so mad I could barely talk. But, I did manage to ask him if he was "talking" to someone else. He got really defensive and that only served to make me more suspicious.

So, in a few minutes, his ass is gonna show up here and he's going to explain what the hell he thinks he's doing. And, no, I'm not jumping the gun here. The circumstances leading to his break-up with this chick were fishy to begin with. For crying out loud, he'd even proposed to her (I gathered this piece of info from the texts I'd read back in the day, a fact he denied and somehow talked his way out of).

I hadn't thought about this ex-chic of his for months. Infact, trust was no longer an issue and we were both getting pretty serious with this relationship, to the point where our families are involved. The thing that sucks even more is that today is actually our anniversary, what a bummer. I'm gonna have to ask for his phone and see the kind of texts he's been exchanging with this chick. I'm so mad right now. We're definitely headed down the break-up lane.

While my reading that message was totally accidental, this time around I don't feel guilty for finding myself thumping through his inbox. It's gonna save me a lot of trouble. To think we were even considering ways to make the relationship work when I move out of state in fall...bullshit! So for all you in relationships, don't have qualms about occassionally peaking at your significant other's phone/email. I don't see it as a matter of trust or whatever. If I don't have anything to hide, I'd care less whether or not my guy reads my texts/emails. Shit, here he comes.....

How Much Lower Can One Sink?

2007-03-09T12:11:00.000-08:00

You know, I used to be one of those people (read Kenyans) who would marvel at all the seemingly endless mental illnesses that Americans seemed to suffer from. The concept of "mental illness" was as foreign as frappucinos when I was growing up. When you mention the name "mathare", a string of negative connotations and images come flooding to mind. I remember having this study partner when I was a freshman in college. Her parents were divorced, she had been diagnosed with both depression and borderline personality disorder and had been on antidepressants for most of her life. On a good day, she was a fun, smart friend to hang with. When her "craziness" took over, however, it was like staring at an alien. Her constant suicidal tendencies used to scare the shit out of me and her prolonged use of medications had finally started to wear her out. She was an honor student, but by the end of sophomore year, she had dropped out of school and moved in with some random guy she didn't know and her life pretty much went downhill from there. I always thought she was weird and interesting. So fascinated was I with her that I minored in Psychology so I could explore these strange illnesses that I never even knew existed. Little did I know that this would be my chance to start understanding my life.

Flashforward to 2007. I had been sitting at a coffeeshop staring at the same page of my book for hours when a thought entered my head, "you're fucked up". That thought was so clear, I actually thought someone had sneaked in behind me and whispered it in my ear. I shook myself up from the daze and realized that I had no idea what I'd been doing for the past 4 hours of my day. This didn't surprise me one bit. I am used to having blackouts where I'll forget entire parts of my day. I can sit in one spot for 5 hours and not even notice it. When I glance around 5 hours later, it'll feel like waking up from a dream and I'll remember nothing. I used to think this was a normal occurence until I mentioned it to my best friend one time and she gave me a strange look that told me there was definitely something wrong with me. Freudians have a name for this.

Lately, I've been thinking about my life, where I've been, where I am, and where the hell it is I'm headed. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. Those are the times I try to stay away from my own company. I'll call some friends up and hit the clubs, or lose myself in the art of lovemaking (I really don't know what Steve's thinking still dating me). Some days, however, dragging myself out of bed is an impossible feat. Then there are days when I tell myself that I should use my past as a motivator for becoming a better person and it works for a few months. Those are the times I'll lose myself in volunteer activities, one after the other, until I burn out. Then there are those days when I just need to admit that sure, I've lived a pretty messed up life, but there are others who're more fucked up than I can ever be. Such is the fun of reading books like "Running with Scissors", where rather than sympathize with the character, I laugh out loud and pat myself on the back for managing to escape such a vicious childhood.

So, where was I going with this post? Nowhere, really. Just exploring the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it's time I took my mental health seriously and made that phone call. I have the number saved on my cell, just in case. Yet, it never feels like it's the right time. But really, is there such a thing as "the right time" to come face to face with your demons? My year started off with me drenched in tears. Those tears have turned out to be more prophetic than I could ever have imagined. It's gotten harder and harder to simply "forget", block disturbing images and memories from my mind. It's becoming impossible to feign happiness. More importantly, I'm getting really tired of being enslaved to my past. Yet...

Loss of My Fave Author

2007-01-31T06:10:00.000-08:00

First thing I do every morning when I wake up (no matter how late I'm running) is log onto CNN and at least glance at the headlines. This morning was no different, but I was dissapointed to read this story. I remember the first time I picked up a book by Sidney Sheldon. I was in class seven. I'd read all the Sweet Valley High and Sweet Valley Universitys that I could handle and I was getting bored with the same old predictable story line and like any series running too long, the authors were starting to run out of ideas. The result was that Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield were becoming more and more alien (werewolves? For crying out loud!) In my quest to find a different kind of author, my friends introduced me to Mills & Boon books and Danielle Steele. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed.

Then one day, I happened to pick up a book titled "Stars Fall Down" by Sidney Sheldon. There was no ounce of romance in that book and it was so captivating, I stayed up all night reading it. That weekend, I went to some bookstore in city center (centre?) and bought my very first copy of a Sidney Sheldon book: "Nothing Lasts Forever". That's how I became hooked. Over the years, I made it my mission to read every single book he ever wrote, and to that end, I think I succeeded. He was such an awesome writer, always keeping you in suspense until the very end. While most mystery/thrillers usually become predictable by the time you get to the middle of the book, Sheldon did a pretty good job of keeping you clueless until the last few pages, and that's not an easy feat.

And so today, I take the opportunity to acknowledge the great contribution Sheldon made to my literary life. I'm sure I'm not alone out there when I say that on many days, I killed my boredom by burying myself in one of his books. As a result, my imagination grew and I sure put it to good use. Yes, I won an award for creative writing in my senior year of high school. Rest In Peace Sidney Sheldon. I will miss you as one of my favorite authors of all time.

I'm Bored

2007-01-22T18:02:00.000-08:00

Have you ever found yourself in a relationship in which you were simply going through the motions of being a girlfriend (or boyfriend)? You know...call everyday to see how the day's going and say goodnight, go on a date and end up in bed having sex (it's still good), and right afterward be in a hurry to leave rather than let that feeling linger? The I-love-you's have dwindled and now you're lucky if you even hear those three words within the month.

At first, I thought that maybe the opposite schedules were working against us. We were both busy and stressed out from work. However, now that I've switched my schedule and synchronized it with his, nothing's changed. If anything, I'm spending all my free evenings hanging out with my friends or family. Sometimes, we'll both be at home, bored, but neither of us wants to drive to see the other. I'm not as eager for the phone calls, in fact, I find myself increasingly screening his calls and intentionally not calling back for a day. I've stopped suggesting coffee/dinner/dancing/movie dates, and so has he. I actually find myself feeling very bored when I'm at his house and we're not being intimate. While he's still thinking we have a future together, I'm increasingly starting to see that what we both want is too different for this relationship to ever work, let alone lead to marriage. I intend to move out of state and start school in fall and I just don't see us surviving the long distance (I don't wanna be a prisoner) and I don't see him moving with me (again, I don't wanna be a prisoner).

Despite all this, he still manages to make my heart skip a beat, and our conversations are great when we're both not too tired to talk. I went out of town this past weekend. The night before I left, we were cuddling in bed when I brought up the topic of the current status of our relationship. He gave me a puzzled look, acting all surprised. According to him, everything's perfect, and his only worry is what's gonna happen when I move. Needless to say, I haven't seen him since then (almost a week now) and he hasn't even called to ask me how my weekend went (in detail). If everything's ok in his book, how does he explain the lack of touching and kissing (unless it'll lead to sex) and the non-existent I-love-you? Sometimes, I feel like we're simply good friends. Sure, it's expected after you've been in a relationship for awhile, but I'm not ok with the status quo. Maybe it's just been too long since we had drama. I can't cook up any drama right now if I tried. Maybe that's the problem. Our relationship is a little too perfect, hence too boring....

What's Your Recommendation?

2007-01-01T18:45:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, two different people recommended a book for me to read. The first person is a friend from church, and the other is a workmate. I don't recall exactly how the conversations led to the book recommendations, but hearing the same book title from two different people piqued my curiosity. I am usually very particular about the kind of books I read, and take the subject matter very seriously. But, in the spirit of my 2006 resolution of trying new things, I went to Barnes & Noble and bought a book - blindly. I had no idea what the book was about and I intended to keep it that way to prevent myself from judging it too fast. The cover was pretty. That's lame, but for me, it was a good sign. The title made no sense to me, but that didn't matter. As I sipped my grande chai latte, I tentatively opened the first page and started reading.

The book was centered on the brutal rape and murder of a fourteen-year-old girl and her account of events following her murder, as she observes from heaven. One thing stood out for me: the fact that the description of the rape and subsequent murder and dismemberment of her body was not as detailed and gruesome as you would expect. In fact, the tone of that book is so light that at some time, I had to stop and wonder why exactly these two people had recommended the book to me. It was the kind of book you read just because. But, in the end, it did make me think how horrible it would be if people really died and went to heaven and watched the world from heaven (this is a theological theory I don't buy into. From my own understanding of the Bible, death is like sleep, and people don't die and immediately go to heaven or hell). In the end, I still didn't understand what the title "The Lovely Bones" means.

Since this was a new writer previously unknown to me, I did what I do with every writer. I dug around for reviews of her other books. It turned out that Alice Sebold had a memoir on top of the fictional "Lovely Bones". I am going through a memoir-phase right now, and I decided to go out and buy that book, especially since I found out that she is a "rape victim". I am always interested in learning how other people have coped with trauma in their lives and figured I had nothing to lose. So I went out and bought "Lucky". In contrast to her fictional work, Alice Sebold started the first five pages of this book with a detailed, gruesome account of how she was attacked and raped in a park in the middle of the night when she was an eighteen-year-old college freshman. Perhaps it was the shock of the account, or the matter-of-fact way in which she wrote about it. Whatever it was, I was hooked and ended up reading the entire book in a day. The last few pages were so surprising and dismaying that when I was done reading, I felt like I had lost something. Not sure what that "something" is, exactly.

So, that's how I started my new year. Reading about rape. And crying. Lots of crying. I allowed myself to wallow in self-pity for a few hours. After all, it's my first holiday without my kid bro, we had a winter storm that ensured there would be no new year's eve parties (I wasn't about to be the dumbass being rescued by the National Guard simply cuz I had the urge to drive to a party in the middle of a winter storm). My parents had already called and wished me happy new year at 9:00 p.m, they had no intention of staying up late for no reason. Lilly is gone. And Steve. Steve had gone to St. Louis to visit his grandma and his flight back was cancelled. Plans to spend new year's eve together went out the window then. In bed and alone, I had plenty of time to feel lonely and miss all the people I loved. Hopefully, that's not indicative of how the rest of my year will pan out.

Of course, I'm digressing. Now the point of this post. I want to indulge this memoir craving I'm having. Have any of you fellow bloggers read a mind-blowing memoir that made you cry, laugh, paranoid, or simply go "wow"? One that touched you in some way, perhaps because you could relate? Please make a recommendation, and say why you recommend the book. Thanks, and happy new year. Hope your year started off on a more upbeat note than mine did!

A New Beginning

2006-12-29T13:57:00.000-08:00

First of all, I would like to thank everyone of you bloggers that has in some way cared enough to leave me comments of encouragement and also the really thoughtful emails I've received. I never imagined that faceless, nameless strangers online would care that much, and you've all made me glad I joined KBW. Thanks for all the moral support.

So, it's that time of year again. The time when many people reflect back to the previous year and count their blessings (or lack of), time to make those useless resolutions you know you're gonna break by day two of the new year. I used to be the kind to make lots of resolutions. So many in fact, that I would write them down on a list and save that list until the end of the year. On New Year's Eve, I would take out that list and count how many resolutions I had kept. Not surprisingly, the figure was always none. To me, this was just another one of those stupid traditions I kept simply cuz they existed. And so when I went off to college, I abandoned the tradition altogether, seeing it as a waste of time.

Last year though, something changed. Lilly and I were having one of our usual "arguments" and she was accusing me of being too "set in my ways". I had no spontaneous bone in me back then and if something was not on my agenda, then I wasn't gonna do it. As a challenge, she made a bet with me and as a result of that bet, I made my one and only new year's resolution: to be a little more open-minded and try new things. This time, I had to actually try and keep the resolution or else I would cough $1000 at the end of the year. And so my year started with a skiing trip, a skill I still don't have, and one I'll probably never muster. Why in the world anyone would go freeze their butt for hours on a mountain is beyond me. But, I had lots of fun and kept up the spirit all year. As a result, I had the most wonderful year I have ever had in my entire life. I did not let the fear of the unknown stop me from accepting a challenge and I made it a point to go out of my way to try and do things that would ordinarily make me uncomfortable. This was the best new year's resolution I ever made, and it's the only one I've ever kept.

In the spirit of trying new things, I've decided to make another resolution for next year. One I'm tempted to say "no thanks" to, but I'll accept as a personal challenge. Steve (God bless this man. Maybe I should start taking his marriage talk seriously) asked me what my new year's resolutions were gonna be for next year. I hadn't really thought that far ahead and I really wasn't planning on making any. One of his resolutions is to read the entire Bible and he asked me to embark on the journey with him. It's been a couple of years since I last opened my Bible on my own outside of church. I thought back to the days in high school when I truly believed in God and put God first in everything I did. Back then, I used to read my Bible everyday and would even buy those small devotional books (remember "Daily Bread" anyone?) I'm not sure at what point in my life exactly I became disillusioned, but it happened all the same. And so with very little resistance, I accepted that as my one resolution for 2007. To read the Bible. I don't know where that's gonna lead, but I do know that a year is a very long time for your life to turn completely around. I only have to read my diary from a year ago and compare it with my diary entries from this week to know how true this is.

And so with the new year, I'm ready for a new beginning. I feel like I'm on the verge of something big happening in my life, and whatever direction my life takes, I hope I can look back a year from today and be grateful for the change. Happy New Year KBW!

The Aftermath

2006-12-07T11:02:00.000-08:00

It's been almost three weeks now since my best friend decided to end her life in a most tragic way. Seems like the longest three weeks of my life. I've been floating around, barely conscious of myself or anything else around me. Yesterday, the police officially closed her file. Conclusion? It was a suicide. Duh! Like we didn't already know that? They kept insisting that they wanted to make sure there was no foul play involved before they could definitely rule it as a suicide. This is not some CSI shit...that's all I wanted to scream so they could leave me the hell alone. I have never felt my privacy so violated, I have never in my life been so scrutinized before. After all, she was my best friend and I should have known if something was amiss, right? Goddamit! I didn't even know she was gonna kill herself! There was no note left behind, no explanation, no last words.

So many emotions and thoughts running amok in my mind. At first I was angry that she would be so selfish and leave her family and friends forever wondering "what if..." Then the guilt set in. How can I be angry at a dead person? Perhaps I should have seen it coming, paid attention to all the little clues she kept giving me. Like the time she asked the rhetorical question: "If you had a choice on how you die, what would choose?" I never thought anything of it, just her being silly as usual. So we discussed death that day, both of us deciding that being shot, drowning and burning to death had to be the most painful ways to die. I should have wondered why she brought up the topic, but I didn't.

And so I've spent the last three weeks crying, getting angry, feeling guilty, and eventually just accepting reality. She's gone. That simple fact struck me only yesterday when I reached for my phone. It had been ringing off the hook and by thanksgiving I was so irritated I switched it off. So I turned it on and I had 103 voicemails, none of which I intend to listen to. My fingers automatically went to speed dial my gal's number, and then I stopped myself. I will never again hear her voice. She was so full of energy and always brought a smile to my face when she said "hello". Even if she was bored to death or had just woken up, she somehow managed to sound like she was in the middle of a very exciting activity. Cheerfulness, the one self defense mechanism she taught me. "If people always think you're happy, they'll never have a reason to ask you what's wrong" is the logic she used. And she put it to practice. But never around me. I was perhaps the only person she ever gave the opportunity to ask her if something was wrong. And I always knew when she was lying and needed a little cajoling to come out with it.

Now, I have no one to talk to about the most mundane things. And the not so mundane things. My relationship with Steve is strained and I need advice on how to handle it. I need someone to go with me to the most boring baby shower that was ever had, and I know she's the only person that would have agreed, without whining even once. I keep remembering the first day we met in class 6. I was a new student at the school and I was shy as hell, going through that awkward stage where making new friends is an ordeal. But she walked up to me during break and offered me a Marie biscuit with the words "Stop looking so sad, you'll not be new forever". Somehow, she understood me before she even knew me. Ours wasn't a perfect relationship. No, we had quite a few fights over the years. But never a fight that was too big for us to work things out. But now she's gone. Forever.

And so to my friend Lilly, I say to you. Thank you for being the sister I never had. Thank you for making my life so full of joy and hope. When I was at the lowest point in my life, you somehow made me see that there was a reason to keep going. You saved my life. I wish you hadn't left the way you did, but now that you are gone, I'll try to understand why you did it. I will forever keep your memory alive. Remember that scholarship fund we often talked about starting at our alma mater and always thought it was corny to name it after ourselves since we would be alive? Well, it will be under your name, and for generations everyone at that campus will know what an awesome individual you were. Thank you for teaching me the meaning of love and true friendship. My life will never be the same without you, but I will try to live up to your favorite quote: "Life goes on regardless". R.I.P. my angel.
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To all KBW members who left me a message, thanks for your thoughtfulness. It's only the web, but it still means a lot to me.

What's There to be Thankful for?

2006-11-23T15:17:00.000-08:00

It seems like the whole world is full of thanksgiving praises today. Everyone is meaninglessly uttering the words "happy thanksgiving" without giving it much thought. But I can't help but wonder what there is to be thankful for. Sure, many people will point at a zillion things that I could be thankful for today, but none of them seem to matter. I just want my best friend back and I know nothing I do or say will change the fact that she's gone. Forever.

How was I to know that she was already dead inside?
How was I to know when she called me early that morning to thank me for being such a great friend that that would be the last time I heard her voice?
How was I to know when she told me she was sad she wasn't just talking about the usual emotional rollercoaster we all seem to ride at some point?
How was I to know that my best friend was gonna take her own life?

I should have sensed it.
She was my best friend.
She called me to say she missed me and wanted to get together for lunch last week.
But I was too busy.

I was too busy to sit down with my best friend for a lunch that could possibly have saved her life. Her family claims that she was happy and no one could have seen it coming. Everyone's still in shock and the constant police presence, probing questions, and the damn reporters are getting on my nerves.

I knew she was dealing with a lot of things.
I just didn't think it would go that far.
I tried to seek help for her.
I didn't try hard enough.
She didn't even say goodbye.
She didn't leave a note.
I don't know what her last thought was.

I am so overwhelmed right now, I can't think straight. This is the worst week of my life. If one more person sends some stupid text message wishing me a "happy thanksgiving", I'm gonna scream.

I am not happy.
And I am definitely not thankful.
No. Not today.

All I wanna do is curl up in a corner and cry forever.
Cry for my friend and all the pain she endured.
So many things I could have done differently.
But it's too late now.
It's simply too late.

2006-11-16T08:01:00.000-08:00

I am having one of "those days". I assume at this point, every female knows exactly what I mean by that statement (sorry for the guys, no way to elaborate further).

A very unfortunate thing happened to one of my friends this past weekend. The kind of thing that makes you wanna scream something like "ALL MEN ARE ASSHOLES", but of course that's absurd, cuz not all men are jerks (this piece of wisdom comes from the fact that I'm in a good relationship. If I were single, it would be a very different statement). Been wanting to blog about it, but it'll probably have several parts to it and I need to embark on the writing when I'm not so mad and incoherent. Instead, I'll write random statements that have nothing to do with anything.
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Baby Oil. Who would have thought magic can be found in baby oil? That it can be used to take you to heaven and back? Maybe I'm the only person on the planet that didn't already know this. But now I do. Since I was 18, full body massages from my boyfriends were never delivered without massage oil. I used to have a fetish for massage oil, and if you can name it, I've probably tried it. Everyone I knew who was in a relationship received massage oil for their birthday because I believed they deserved it. The thought of trying something different never even crossed my mind until Steve came up with this silly fantasy: he wanted to see me covered in baby oil cuz he thought it would be sexy (someone's been watching too many music videos). I tried not to poke fun at this and went along with it. Nothing to lose after all. So what started off as slithering baby oil all over my body turned into a full-blown massage, and it was by far the best massage I ever received. Not to mention the fact that it can do a whole lot of other naughty things....I haven't so much as thought of buying massage oil in four months.
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This is dumb, but what is the equivalent of a wet dream for females? If I remember my class 6 science (or was it class 5) correctly, males have wet dreams when they have erotic dreams and orgasm in their sleep. Nobody mentioned anything about females experiencing the same thing, and I've never really heard about it. But, I have had orgasms in my sleep (and after a lot of prodding, I've finally gotten some of my friends to admit they have too), and I've never figured out whether this has a name or not. So if you just happen to possess that knowledge, wanna share?

Strange Dream

2006-11-15T07:07:00.000-08:00

If dreams are a manifestation of your subconscious thoughts, then mine must be pretty messed up. I just had the strangest dream ever and it's actually quite disturbing. There were a whole bunch of people at a party, none of whom I recognized, but had an intuition that I somehow knew them.

I arrive at the party, which is being held in some kind of park. There are people chattering away all over the place. Someone pulls me over and says that they have the best barbecue ready to eat. They open a life-size oven and pull out the meat and lay it on the grass. Only problem is, the meat turns out to be my younger bro, barbecued from the neck down. He's well done, but his head is intact and he starts talking to me. I stare at him and at the person that pulled him out the oven. The person hands me a hack saw and asks me to start cutting up the "meat". Pretty soon, there's a crowd of people gathered around holding plates, waiting for the meat to be served.

I look at my bro's face and he smiles and nods. I start hacking away at his knee and I suddenly start crying, imagining the pain he must be experiencing. The people around me are cheering, my brother's trying to comfort me, and I'm sawing off his legs and thigh, pulling at the "meat" and crying myself senseless. Then I wake up in a cold sweat.

Tree Climbing

2006-11-10T20:04:00.000-08:00

I was reading Jadekitten's post where part of it described the scars she got from her days as a tomboy, and that brought back a painful, albeit funny, memory from my childhood that I had long relegated to the recesses of my subconscious.

I was one of those kids whose parents flew to stato when I was a kid, therefore my bro and I ended up being nomads, moving from one family member to another (don't do this to your children people!!) Technically, my bro and I were raised by my grandma, but she was always sick and hospitalized, making it necessary for miscellaneous aunts and uncles to take us in. I think I've always had that rebellious, non-comforming bone in me, and it was no different when I was a kid.

If you were raised in shags, then you know all the bullshit that went along with gender roles. All the "girls are not supposed to wear pants" and "girls should always sit properly so you don't show men your underwear and seduce them" and "girls are supposed to do this and that". Well, I wasn't having any of it, and I often followed my bro and the "shamba boy" to take the cattle grazing, climb trees to get "maperas" and all that kind of stuff that would send my grandma screaming her head off.

This particular morning, I had done the usual chores around the house; washed dishes, swept the house (where were all the child labor laws? Seriously, I was six years old). While my grandma sat on the mat talking to the neighborhood women, I sneaked out and went to the shamba as usual. There was one particular tree I had been trying to climb all week but I didn't seem to get too far and I was getting tired of my bro laughing at me for being a "girl". I was determined to show him that I was no punk and if he could climb the damn tree, so could I.

So there I was, making good progress. My hands were holding onto a branch as I tried to lift my weight off the ground. One branch, two branches, up and up I went. Then...Shit! I was halfway up the tree when my hand slipped and I started my free fall. Lucky for me, there was a branch in my way that stopped me dead, almost literally. My heart was pounding wildly and the adrenaline rush almost masked the pain that was shooting up my spine, coming from my vagina. Great, just great. My bro started laughing, and like a defeated dog, I carefully got down and limped all the way back to the house.

Something was definitely wrong "down there" and the pain got worse and worse. I knew for a fact that I was in trouble, especially if my grandma found out I was climbing trees. A million different excuses ran through my mind, but none of them seemed good enough, even in my juvenile mind. So I slowly sneaked into the house and went to bed, knowing very well that my grandma would have a heart attack at my blatant display of laziness (a girl's not supposed to sleep during the day when there's work to be done, you know).

Eventually, there was no running from it cuz for one, I couldn't walk properly to save my life. My grandma ended up examining my vagina, and deciding that my injuries were serious enough, took me to her elder sister who practiced herbal medicine. The herbs I had to stick up that hole for a few weeks were enough to repel me from herbs for life. And my grandma made sure I put the herbs where they were supposed to go, going so far as to supervise my pee sessions. I guess there is no privacy where children are concerned.

Jade, thanks for that memory. I smiled all day, and for sure I'm calling my grandma this weekend to remind her how "evil" she used to be...LOL.

Decode This for Me

2006-11-09T09:01:00.000-08:00

Ok, it's getting a little too serious with all this religion talk. Good topic F.D, it's been awhile since I seriously thought about religion, but I think I'm so done with that for awhile.

Now, back to Steve. He turned 29 a week ago, and he's one of those "I wanna get married and start a family" type guy (can't exactly blame him, he's probably on freak out mode seeing the big "three-oh" is around the corner). Honestly, when we first started dating, I thought it would be another short fling that would definitely be over after a month cuz I thought he would turn out to be like every other guy I'd dated and start trying to talk me into having sex with him. I usually don't become attached emotionally to guys, and can easily walk away unscathed.

The month came and went. I started experiencing emotions I'd never felt before. Somehow, none of my low expectations of him as a guy panned out. Instead, he turned out to be the kind of guy you wish you'd meet, but don't dare hope for. And so we kept dating. After a few months, he made it clear that he was done being in relationships for a joyride and he was looking for something serious. Ok, that's fine honey, except that I'm not looking for anything serious, let alone marriage, kids, etc at this point in my life. So after weeks and weeks of discussing this, we both decided that we should break up before things got too complicated. God knows how short that break up was. So everytime this topic came up, it ended with the line "we should just break up".

Eventually, we decided that it was useless to even try. Whenever I used to think about my future, I imagined myself as this successful career woman trotting around the globe. Marriage and kids never even crossed my mind. Yet, lately I find myself wondering what marriage would be like. Whether or not I can balance a career and a family successfully without going down the "mommy track" or being a horrible mother to my children. Why on earth am I thinking about this? Steve must be brainwashing me with all this bullshit talk.

Ok, so we're in love, but after next summer, we honestly don't know what direction our relationship will take. For some reason, we both seem to think we'll last that long. For now, we're "just dating" for the heck of it as we wait for our fate, the most depressing one being the possibility that I might move to another state so I can pursue a higher degree. That and the fact that we've both decided we want different things out of this relationship and none of us is willing to compromise, which means we have no future together.

So the other night we were just laying in bed talking about a lot of random stuff, when out of nowhere, Steve asked me this question: "What would you do if I got really serious and asked you to move in with me?" I don't know how I got out of this one, but I somehow ended up dodging the question. Now I need someone to decode the question for me. Is he testing me to see how I feel, or was he joking just to get me all hot and bothered, or was he serious? I do realize this is a dumb question to ask, especially since none of you know Steve, but maybe there's a certain guy code that I don't know about. Fire away!

The Future Diplomat...The Response

2006-11-07T08:25:00.000-08:00

Wow, I knew I should have checked this page over the weekend, but was having too much fun to dare go near a computer. Advice of the day: Don't EVER arrange for a 6:00 a.m departure flight, with 50 minutes to connect to the next flight, AND expect to somehow make it to work for a 10 - 14 hour shift of gruelling brain activity three hours later. Chances are, you'll wake up late, nearly miss your departure flight, get a one hour flight delay in Chicago due to weather, miss your connecting flight, and arrive at your destination 2 hours later with only an hour to spare before you start work. All that means you'll have to call in at work and tell them you can only work a half day, no point in even trying to lie that you're sick.

Interesting comments on previous post. I can definitely see F.D and Joe rub each other the wrong way (no pun intended BTW). I will have to say that Joe has a point about going to church and finding sinners (you really didn't need to quote all those verses to make your point, but it's well taken). Only problem is, people act as though it's a crime to be a sinner in church, and you'd think some sins are worse than others when clearly, a white lie is as bad as murder; the perpetrators suffer the same fate. So this business of attacking others is truly pointless cuz I can assure you that all the mud slingers are not entirely blameless, just don't walk around thinking you're better off than the next person.

I will be the first to admit that church and christianity as a whole have had a positive influence on my life, just like Kenyangal and plenty of others, I suspect. If I hadn't had that influence, I don't know where my life would be right now, but I do know that it wouldn't be great. At one point in my life, I actually did believe in God, "felt" his presence, prayed for everything, read my bible everyday, and to epitomize it all, I got baptized. However, whatever it was I was searching for, I never found it in God, and I soon realized that to ME, it made no difference whether I prayed, read the bible, etc or not. Things happened anyway. I stopped going to church for a very short period of time, then realized that I'd never really skipped church and my week was never complete if I didn't take that break. So I kept going. And I still go. It's a comfort thing. Not the kind of comfort that makes me think I'm any less of a sinner cuz I go to church, but the kind of comfort I get when I eat I big fatty rich piece of German chocolate cake. And sometimes when I get sick of the "booty this, booty that" songs on radio, I simply switch to the gospel channel. The music is as relaxing as the R & B I adore.

Q, I admire your courage to step outside of christianity and explore other religions. In the end, sounds like you came right back to christianity, perhaps with a better appreciation for it than you did before. At the back of my mind, I don't question God, the existence of God, or any of the other questions many people struggle with. What I do question is His character. Weird? No, I don't know what kind of loving, caring God sits by and watches his people suffer, yet he does nothing about it when they cry out to him for help. That, right there, is my problem. Quite frankly, I don't care much for what other people in the church are doing. I don't care that Ted Haggard had gay sex, bought meth or did whatever, yet continued to preach. Nobody should let other people's hypocrisy affect their faith; after all, you're not worshipping church pastors, other church members or whatever. You're worshipping God.

Having said all that, I still hate hypocrisy, and that's why I refuse to become one of them. My spiritual life is as messy as my emotional one, yet I can't abandon it all together. Maybe someday God will touch me in that special way that others seem to be touched. In the meantime, I will continue being me with a clean healthy conscious. I will never use religion as an excuse for not doing something. Many people prove over and over that's not very effective and only end up living with guilt. Like Legal Kenya pointed out, this is a topic we can discuss till we drop dead, and nothing will have changed.

Religion and Politics. Everyone has their beliefs and nothing you say or do will change those beliefs. So to each his own. All the same, if you're in the U.S. and can legally vote, go out and exercise this freedom. Let your voice be heard and if you don't, then you have no right to bitch about things later. You have your chance, use it. Steve and I are voting tonight after he gets off work.

Ps. As requested, I'll stick to black font. I'm a colorful individual and the different colors do reflect my mood for the day, but I don't want anyone being blinded, so I oblige. Black only for now, until I can't stand it anymore :)

The Future Diplomat

2006-11-03T09:19:00.000-08:00

Misleading title, I'm actually responding to the Future Diplomat's sexual morality posts. My response on his blog became too lenghty, so I moved it here.

I see where F.D's coming from and in many ways I can relate to many of his rants. I do go to church (every week in fact, unless I absolutely have something else going on) and I'm very active in that I run the PA system, PowerPoint, coordinate worship service and all the behind-the-scenes things that go to make the service a smooth and enjoyable one. For many observers on the outside, I am a committed christian and many guys around here know me as a "church girl". In reality, that's far from the truth and the only reason I do all those things is that I am good at it and the church could use someone that's willing to do it on a regular basis rather than relying on a volunteer from week to week. I've volunteered at hospitals, my school, at work, and to me, volunteering in church when they need a volunteer is no different. Anyone that's ever cared to ask me about my religious beliefs knows that I go to church out of tradition and not because I consider myself religious, "saved", or any of that stuff. It's just one of those things I've always done.

One of the things about christianity and all this morality bullshit that F.D points out is the hypocrisy that goes along with it. He raises a lot of interesting questions like who decided what books to put in the bible and which ones to leave out, why female sexual freedom is frowned upon etc. Personally, I got to the point in my life where I said fuck religion, fuck culture, I refuse to let those things dictate who I am and how I live my life. Yes, I'm that girl that requires her man to know how to cook and clean cuz I'm no one's housegirl. That I got from my dad. He's the best cook in my family and he's always happy to cook for us and does all the cleaning, even when my mom's around; not your typical African man.

I love masturbating and I'm not ashamed of it, and Steve and I do watch porn together occassionally and it's fun. Quite frankly, I think it's a little creepy to watch porn alone. I am very sexually expressive and uninhited, a fact that's surprised many of the guys that I've dated that always thought I was a timid "church girl". The more reason I am proud of my self-control and the fact that I waited until I was 22 to have vaginal intercourse, something that would have otherwise happened when I was 14.

Where does all this fit with the christianity and culture I was taught to follow when I was a kid? Absolutely nowhere because to some extent I'm sick of the hypocrisy that goes on within these two institutions. I would rather do some of these things out in the open and not be tormented by guilt than be the first to cast a stone when I'm engaging in "immorality" behind the curtain. I believe one can be a decent human being with a good heart without necessarily being religious. So stop with the stone casting already. F.D. you go on and do your thing. You don't have to defend yourself or justify your posts. If someone doesn't like what you wrote, they can go blog about it on their own blogs.
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I'm skipping town this afternoon after the funeral and I can't wait. I'm in need of a break after the week I've had. Especially at work. The damn FDA was around this week and that put everyone on edge and the work environment was totally unfriendly, not to mention the long hours spent there. Thank God my weekend started off right by going to dinner with Steve. He was looking yummy for sure, all dressed up. We had a great waitress who regaled us with hilarious stories of some of the weird patrons she's served before (my favorite was the couple that left a note on their tab asking if she would be willing to have a threesome with them. They even left a number) and at the end of the night, she got a humongous tip. All in all, the three figure dinner bill was worth it and after some great sex, Steve and I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Talk about a chilled out birthday. Now have yourselves a wonderful weekend!

Someone's Trippin' and it Ain't me!

2006-11-01T21:12:00.000-08:00

Have you ever found yourself wondering what you would do if someone you love, say your cute "little" cousin, outted (is that a word?) herself to you? What would your reaction be? Perhaps you're the biggest homophobe on planet earth, would your views change because you love your cousin so much? Or perhaps you're the kinda person that's never given a shit whether someone's homosexual or not. I mean, what does someone else's sex life have to do with you, right?

Well, about a week ago, I was chatting with my seventeen-soon-to-be-eighteen year old cousin. She lives in a different state with her older brothers and sister and she's the last born. We all grew up together, had sleepovers, the whole works. I never really paid that much attention to her when she was younger simply cuz of the age difference, and I ended up being close friends with her oldest bro and sis. So this particular night, we talked on the phone a tad longer than we usually do, perhaps cuz she was the only one at home when I called. I was in the habit of saying hi and almost immediately asking to speak to the sis or bro.

I don't even know how the whole conversation started, all I remember is her saying that she was really confused. That statement came out of the blue and I wondered what the hell she was talking about. Without even thinking twice about it, she blurted out "I like girls". It took a few seconds for the meaning of her words to fully register. I didn't have a reaction. Perhaps I should have been shocked, perhaps I should have been surprised, perhaps I should have been...what? I waited for that reaction to come, but it didn't. Instead, I made sure she knew that I wasn't about to judge her. I have quite a few gay friends, and have even had chicks hit on me. I've never given it too much thought, mostly figuring it wasn't my business what people did in their beds.

As she went on to describe how scared she was, I actually felt sorry for her. I know her parents and if they ever found out, she would be dead meat. Especially her dad. Doesn't matter that she's a daddy's girl, he will absolutely kill her.

Her oldest brother found out she was a lesbian by reading a letter (or diary? Not too sure, but I guess snooping around runs in the family...lol). He took her out to lunch and told her that he knew she was a lesbian and wanted her to change (um...hello?) He then went and told their other sister, who acted like she didn't hear. She's never said a word to my lil' cousin about it and pretends everything's the same. At the same time, the oldest bro doesn't even talk to her anymore yet they live in the same house.

I thought she was done dropping bombshells, but boy was I wrong. After another few minutes of talking, she reminded me of a time they'd come over to my house for a sleepover when I was in 10th grade. I actually remember that time cuz after finishing primary school, sleepovers almost ceased to exist. Apparently, that was the first time she noticed that she liked girls because she fell for me (at this point I should really be shocked, perhaps worried? I search for an emotion, but nothing's changed. I'm simply listening). She was almost twelve then and when she went home after the weekend, she couldn't stop thinking about me.

When they came to visit this past summer, she'd been acting very strange and I even mentioned it to the bro and the mom, asking if she was having a particularly bad adolescence cuz some of her actions were totally irrational and dumb. Before I could ask her any other questions, she told me how hard it was for her to spend the week at my house, and she was trying to avoid me because she still has a crush on me. Ok, is this my kid female cousin trying to hit on me? Is she for real! This whole thing felt like a big joke. Of course I had no comment so I chose to keep my mouth shut.

I don't remember how the conversation ended, I quit listening after awhile. This past weekend, she wrote me an email saying that she'd been thinking about me all week. She knew I was her cousin and it was wrong, but she couldn't help it. I read the email as I was running off to work and didn't give it a second thought until she called me last night and asked why I hadn't replied her email. Ok, what the hell am I supposed to say? I know for a fact I have no sexual or romantic interest in girls (I can appreciate a cute booty or nice boobs, but not in a sexual way, sort of like noticing your friend has cute shoes on). At the same time, she is going through a stressful and confusing time in her life, and aside from the bro and sis, I'm the only person that knows she's a lesbian. Well, she trusted me enough to tell me, but now, how do I handle this supposed crush that's been there for years without doing any damage? People her age aren't exactly the most rational human beings on earth.

How do I let her know that I support her in whatever choice she makes and I love her regardless, but I'm not remotely interested in her (or any other girls) and quite frankly, she shouldn't have a crush on me cuz I'm her cousin. All this, without hurting her feelings or building a wall cuz I would still want her to talk to me when she's stressed out. Damn!

2006-11-01T08:44:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Steve's birthday. Can't believe it, but he's turning twenty nine. We were joking last night about our age difference, and even though I've always dated older guys (I've done much worse than 6 year differences), he's never dated a girl that was more than two years his junior. We figured that the year I was in eighth grade, he was a sophomore in college...LOL.

I went out at one in the morning to get his birthday gift. Like most guys I know, he loves video games and one time when we were at the movies, they advertised Final Fantasy XII and he happened to mention that he wanted to buy it. Being a video game dummy, I enlisted the help of other guys and found out that it was coming out on 31st. Apparently, there was a possibility that it would sell out, and not wanting to take any chances, I went looking at 1 in the morn before the rest of the world woke up to go looking for it. I'm very proud of that small accomplishment and no doubt he'll love his present.

After lots of procrastination, I finally made dinner reservations for tomorrow night at my all time favorite Italian restaurant. He's never been there, but I hope he'll love it as much as I do. I just feel really bad that he decided to cancel dinner plans with his parents so he could go out with me. I haven't officially met his parents (been avoiding them like the plague, and I know he's been avoiding mine too, even though they keep asking when I'm gonna introduce him), so I didn't think it was appropriate to have a big happy family dinner. His friends are having a birthday party for him over the weekend, so he decided to just go ahead and spend the night alone with me. Mostly because we haven't seen each other in almost two weeks now, and I'll be going out of town the following day for another week.

On another note, I'm attending a funeral on Friday afternoon. The only funeral I've ever attended for a family member was my grandfather's and the last funeral I went to was in 2000 when one of my teachers died of AIDS. I have no problem with dead bodies (seen a lot of cadavers in recent years) but this is a different kind of funeral. The guy is being cremated and I know this is really really dumb, but I couldn't help but wonder whether we get to watch the cremation. That would be a little creepy, but I don't know which is worse; watching the cremation itself or being handed ashes and storing them in the house ("Meet the Parents" comes to mind here). Anyway, I'll buy flowers and hope for the best. I hate funerals....ok, I doubt anyone loves a funeral, but you get the point...

TGIF

2006-10-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

It's been one of those crazy weeks where everything seems to have gone wrong. My job is ordinarily stressful, but when some people make stupid, careless mistakes, then the stress-o-meter is off the chain cuz then you got the director breathing down your neck every few hours and the supervisor just yelling at everyone out of sheer frustration (not to mention the thousands of dollars gone to waste and the looming media circus that everyone's trying to avoid)...

Anyway, that means that the last time I saw Steve was on Monday night (great sex!) and the rest of the week just sort of went past without my notice. I got to thinking the other day about our relationship. Is it becoming more and more sex-based? I mean, every time we're together, which is not all that often, all we do is have sex. Or is that normal? We hardly ever go out any more. You see, I wouldn't know because he's the only guy I've ever had sex with. Yes, I waited until I was 22 to lose my virginity. Although that is relative. If you have oral sex, are you still a virgin? Is virginity primarily defined by the breaking of the hymen (I bled, but it wasn't as painful as I often imagined it would be. Not to mention that it was actually enjoyable, a far cry from the bitterness my friends express whenever they mention their "first time").

In a way, I never thought of myself as a true virgin before I had sex with Steve. Sure, I'd never had vaginal penetration, more out of fear than anything else really. But, I'd done everything else in the name of "making out", from blow jobs to taking showers together. How the hell I ever avoided the actual sex is beyond me.

Yeah, so I haven't seen Steve all week and knowing that he has his daughter for the weekend, I'm determined to actually do something fun and not sit around thinking about him and missing him like crazy. So today I had coffee with an old friend, G, and dinner with another old friend, D. They both happen to be guys and as I was talking to Steve, he pointed out that I'd been hanging out with a lot of guys lately. It hadn't occured to me that everytime I've told Steve I'm out somewhere with a friend, that friend has been a guy. Was that a note of jealousy I detected in his voice? I tried my best to ignore it and quickly changed the subject. I can't help it if majority of my friends happen to be guys. He didn't sound too pleased and made up some excuse about having to take the baby to his parents' house for a visit and asked me to call him later when was done having dinner with D.

The deal with D is that I used to have a big, huge crush on him early this year. He's one of the most interesting people I've ever met and he has this uncanny way of making me laugh out loud. The kind of laugh where you throw your head back and spit out your coffee (gross! I know) while choking on it at the same time. That's how funny he is. I hadn't seen him since early this summer and the emails were getting a little old, so we decided to have dinner and catch up. Early this year if he'd tried to kiss me, or even suggested that there was a chance we could ever date, I would have jumped at it. Due to unfortunate circumstances, a romantic relationship was out of the question.

Sure, I was a little worried about seeing him again, wondering if the crush would still be there. He's still as cute as I remember him to be, still as funny as hell, ever the gentleman, but thankfully, the crush is gone. The dinner/dessert lasted three hours. Should I be having this much fun hanging out with a guy that's not my boyfriend? When I finally got around to calling Steve to say goodnight, his tone was a little different. He made up some excuse about having to put the baby to sleep and with that, said goodnight. Ok....whatever. I hope he's not seriously getting jealous of the fact that I have guy friends that I actually enjoy hanging out with. If he is, then I've found the first vice in this otherwise angelic man. And it's about damn time. No one is that perfect!

Rated PG-13

2006-10-23T22:26:00.000-07:00

I woke up early Friday morning, looking forward to my day off and the action I would be getting later that night. I knew Steve had a long day ahead of him so I decided to find a way to distract myself so that I could avoid calling him and sending naughty text messages. What better way to kill time than to hang out with girlfriends, gossipping and shopping? Before I knew it, it was 5:00 p.m and Steve was calling to say he was on his way home. Unfortunately, he was feeling a little sick (getting a cold). I decided to play nurse and bought lemons to make some concoctions and of course, Nyquill. All the same, I was tired and horny as hell and I just couldn't wait to get a full body massage and lots of sex. Steve and I can have sex upto 4 times in two to two and a half hours when the planets are properly aligned and the stars are shining down on us (which is almost every time we're together.)

I borrowed some movies, whose names I can't remember, and made my drive over to Steve's. As soon as I saw him, I realized we hadn't had sex in a week, although it felt like months. I was just about ready to jump on him and tear his clothes off, but a closer look told me it wasn't such a good idea. He looked like shit. Instead, all I got was a bear hug that was almost clingy. We sat down and cuddled for a few minutes while we talked about our day, then we headed out to the grocery store (why is it that guys never have any food in their fridge? Not even juice!)

When we got back, we watched one of the movies I'd brought over, but my mind was focussed on something else. I really really wanted us to stop pretending we were watching this horrible movie and make love instead. And, my whole body was sore and I could use a massage. Usually, I'm aggressive and have no qualms about initiating the sex, but I was a little reluctant that day since we'd only made up the day before. We had spoken a lot less than we usually do and I kept remembering a comment he'd told me once: I am too forward. Ok, fine, so I rested my hand on his thigh in church and absent-mindedly started stroking it. How was I supposed to know he was uncomfortable if he didn't say anything? He waited until church was over to tell me that he doesn't like PDA (this coming from a guy who french kisses me anywhere in public; coffeeshop, parking lot, work place, outside movie theatre....but somehow, we can't so much as hold hands in church. Good thing we don't go to the same church).

So there we were, lying on his couch, fully clothed, movie playing and neither of us paying attention to it. Finally, he complained that it was too hot and started taking off his clothes. It was about time! I usually turn his heat up the minute I enter the house because I don't mind heat and he doesn't like it too hot, so eventually he has no choice but to strip, and I have no choice but to wrap myself in a blanket. Perfect compromise.

Pretty soon, we were hungrily kissing and the remaining clothes came flying off. Shit, we didn't have any condoms in the living room, that meant a trip upstairs to his room. I lay on his bed, eagerly anticipating to feel him inside me. Soon enough, we had our rhythm back and within two minutes, he had cum. Now, I don't know any ladies that can cum that fast, and I sure as hell don't. Ok, fine, we hadn't had sex in a week. I could live with the over excitement. But, I was still horny and the minute I made him aware of it, he suggested I masturbate. I've done that numerous times before as a tease before we actually have sex, but I was not in the mood to masturbate when I had a live penis lying next to me.

By now, Steve was barely there, his eyes drooping. Well, I could forget that massage I'd been looking forward to. I lay there unsatisfied and frustrated at the fact that there was nothing he could do to give me what I wanted right then. Why do guys have a refractory period? Pretty annoying, I say. That was definitely the worst sex Steve and I have ever had, meaning it was the worst sex of my life. The emotional rollercoaster we'd had all week, combined with work stress and the beginnings of a cold finally took their toll. After five minutes, we both fell asleep in each other's arms. Not exactly the kind of night I was hoping for after a whole week of waiting, but the sex and massage would simply have to wait.

The Saga Continues...Final Episode (for real)

2006-10-19T23:19:00.000-07:00

After the whole break up and make up, Steve and I were pretty cool for a couple of weeks. Very lovey-dovey, calling each other upto four times a day, using the L-word more often and the love making was definitely different. Unfortunately, in my blind anger and hurt after we broke up, I changed my entire work schedule so that I could work evenings. The thought of going to study at a coffeeshop after work, alone, killed me, so I thought I'd just start a different routine. Of course that worked for the four days Steve and I broke up, but after we got back together, that's become the biggest issue in our relationship. We just don't see each other much anymore coz our schedules are totally opposite. One positive thing is that it's given us a chance to try out quickies over lunch and well...they're quickies. They do put a smile on my face all evening at work, especially on days where I can't get off until 1 a.m. On really bad nights, we will even have phone sex, but nothing beats the real deal.

Last week, I was in a particularly good mood and decided to do something I always swore I would never do, especially if I somehow end up becoming rich/famous and some guy tries to blackmail me (yes, I do have high ambitions, but they do not involve politics or becoming another silly celeb.)

One night I was bored so I decided to play with my camera phone. I took photos of myself semi- naked, and I was wearing one particularly sexy thong with red lips across the crotch and the word "kiss" printed on it (no, I'm not gonna post a pic to illustrate this!) The next day while Steve and I were having lunch, I showed him the photos I'd taken using my phone, and I somehow felt guilty for teasing him in that way. We both had to go to work, and he was very disappointed when I told him to forget what he was thinking about. The next night I was off and over at his house, I asked him if we could exchange phones so we could take sexy photos of ourselves. I don't remember why I wouldn't let him take the photos of me, but I think in retrospect, I do know what I wanted to do at the back of my mind.

So there I was, alone in his room, with his current cell phone. Why the hell was I so obsessed with his phone? I took off my top and took a picture of my bare tummy and my sexy red bra. Steve loves my stomach and he's always joking (?) that I should get a navel ring, so I was sure to take plenty of pictures from different angles (which aren't that many if you're taking the pictures yourself). Then I took off my jeans and tried to make as sexy a pose as I could and take photos of my legs only, another part of my body that Steve loves. I wasn't exactly trying to make soft porn here, so I decided not to strip completely, just in case the photos landed in the wrong hands. I looked at the album to make sure that the photos turned out ok, and pretty soon, started looking at all the other photos in the album. They were mostly him and his adorable little angel of a girl.

Then a thought occured to me. Why not check the text messages and see if that same chick had been sending any freaky messages lately? Once again, I knew it was wrong and I shouldn't, but it was too late. My mind had thought it and my hands had no choice but to obey. And so I found myself digging through his outbox. I was more interested in what he'd written. He had over 200 messages (WTF? My stupid Verizon phone can only store a maximum of 50 messages. Switch over to Sprint?) I smiled as most of the messages were sent to me and miscellaneous family members.

Then came the "I love you but I'm afraid you're cheating on me" followed by "I still want to make you my wife". My heart rate quickened and I quickly closed the phone. Even though the messages were sent before I met him, we'd had the "ex-girlfriends ex-boyfriends" talk multiple times before and he'd never mentioned nothing about proposing to any of the chicks he'd dated. Then I heard him come up the stairs and his voice came floating into the room. He walked over and showed me his final product: very impressive. He went through college on an athletic scholarship, so he has the best abs I've ever seen in real life. His killer abs were splayed all over my phone and the V leading to the groin was sexily displayed. I couldn't help but think of Usher in a towel. He was impressed enough with my photos, but that didn't make me happy. I had other things on my mind.

Should I mention that once again, I'd looked at his messages? Fuck it, I can't deal with the guilt so I might as well. Before I could say anything, he was kissing my stomach and all thought evaporated from my brain. Way later, as we lay on the bed cuddling, I fessed up about looking at his messages. I didn't tell him exactly what I read, I didn't feel the need to at the time. I'm not sure what reaction I was expecting, but calmness wasn't it. He simply stared ahead for a long moment before declaring "No point getting mad now, is there? It's not gonna solve anything". So I just sat there like a fool and wanted to die of guilt. There wasn't much talking that night or the days that followed, but we tried to be civil.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the text messages out of my mind. Thinking I was gonna explode, I decided to ask him about the girl on Monday. Big mistake on my part, I did it over the phone after we'd come back from watching "The Departed" (awesome movie for those that haven't watched it). This time, his anger took me by surprise. He actually raised his voice an octave higher and totally told me off. Of course I deserved it, but it hurt so bad when he told me I had no right to violate his privacy (something I already knew). He hang up on me. I was very mad myself and wondered why he was getting pissed now and not a week earlier when I'd actually gone through his messages and told him about it. Who the fuck was this girl? Was I being taken for a ride? How could I have been so stupid and let myself fall in love with him? He did say they were still friends (yes, I'd read the name of the girl and he had never mentioned that name before when he discussed ex-girls. If he'd proposed to her, why the hell hadn't he mentioned her?)

I sat there fuming, and not wanting to write anything in my journal, I decided to join KBW and tell total strangers about it. I was miserable all week and didn't know what to do with myself. My work schedule was hectic and he was pretty busy himself, so there was no way we could meet before Friday. I'll be damned if I wait that long! He called again and left a pretty angry message. This time I knew I'd crossed the line.

I went to talk to him today. I was so scared, I hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. I was pretty sure he was going to break up with me again. I went to pick him up from his work place so we could go for lunch. The minute I saw him walk across the parking lot, my heart melted as usual. He was so HOT! I decided that I would just apologize profusely until he forgave me. No way in hell were we breaking up. The only thing I needed was to hear who the hell that chick was. Steve's a pretty honest person, and I knew he would tell me the truth. As long as there was nothing sexual or remotely romantic going on, I could live with it. But he'd already made it clear that he didn't trust me anymore. Admirably, I'd managed to avoid telling my girlfriends about this latest discovery because I knew they would no doubt convince me that he was cheating on me (or was it cheating WITH me?) and once my mind believed that, it would be hard to trust him. If I didn't trust him, I couldn't date him. That much I was sure.

The minute he entered my car, his face lit up in a smile and he gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek and I couldn't help but smile back. We simply sat there, and pretty soon, we both started bitching about work. After a long time, it was clear neither of us was interested in lunch, so we continued to sit in the parking lot and talk. Miraculously, he decided that even though I'd violated his privacy, he'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't that big of a deal because I would probably have been looking at his stuff if we lived together. All the same, he was disappointed that I turned out to be as insecure as the other girls he knew, and that surprised him coz he'd always thought I was different (yeah, thanks for making me feel like a total bitch). He then went on to explain about the girl and as it turned out, he'd actually told me about her once during my long drive home while he attempted to keep me awake. Oh yeah! Now I remembered. He'd never mentioned her name though, so how was I supposed to know that was her?

All the same, we're still together and after work on Friday (I'm off, thank God), we're gonna just chill, talk, give each other full body massages to unwind, and probably have more wild, passionate sex. What can I say, Steve's crazier than I am for even continuing to be with me. I just keep worrying about how I'm gonna fuck it all up next. He needs to give me a break though, I'm experiencing emotions I've never experienced before and I don't know what to do with these emotions. ***THE END***

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Ok, this post is way too long, I'll stay away for the weekend. If you read this far, wow! I'm impressed. Thanks for stopping by, have a great weekend :)

Psycho-gal Last Chapter

2006-10-19T07:03:00.000-07:00

I held my breath. Was he gonna hang up? Yell at me? Curse me out? Break up with me right there and then? Of course not. This is Steve we're talking about. Instead, he spent the next ten minutes trying to make me feel better, making the guilt that much worse. Was this guy for real? We ended the conversation with "we need to talk" and that was that.

The next week, I returned his phone (he didn't even raise an eyebrow) and we had great sex and life went on as normal. A week later, he called me to his crib on a Monday night, saying we needed to talk. Everything was going great as far as I could tell, but my instincts told me that he was about to break up with me. Should I beat him to the punch line? I have never had a guy break up with me before, I prefer to exit a relationship before things get too complicated emotionally. Yet, somehow, I hadn't had the strength to leave Steve, even though I knew from the beginning that our relationship was doomed.

He's African American, and I don't even need to get into the stereotypes surrounding that identity alone. I hate being stereotyped myself, so I decided that I was gonna give him a chance and not base anything on stereotypes. After all, he had a great job that requires high IQ and discipline, he had a house, a very cute little sports car, and my favorite: he was planning on going back for his Masters next fall so we spent a lot of time together studying. Not exactly fitting a stereotype, right? On my second date with him, I saw a photo of a cute little girl and asked who she was.

"My daughter." Oh? Usually this would be the part where I walk away and don't ever look back. It was only our second date for crying out loud. But no, I wasn't gonna be that judgemental. Besides, the baby lived with the mother and he went on to answer all my questions about the baby mama. Honesty is a virtue.

Weeks and weeks later, while making general conversation, I happened to mention a dude I met at a coffeeshop that worked as a correctional officer at the state prison. Somehow, Steve ended up telling me about the time he was arrested and charged with a misdemeanor for getting into a fight at a club. Oh? He had a criminal record too? By this time, I was in way over my head and that piece of info went unregistered. He had not displayed any act of violence thus far. In fact, one of his Kenyan friends is dating a friend of mine and one time he hit her and threw her against the wall. I told Steve about it and the next day, he had a talk with his friend and let him know that it was not cool to hit a woman.

So, I headed over to Steve's place, anticipating the break up. Within 3 minutes of getting there, I killed the small talk and asked him to get to the point. Of course he broke up with me and attempted to explain all the things we were both going through (issues with his baby mama's boyfriend hitting her and he was worried the jerk might get physical with his daughter too so he wanted to talk to his lawyer and the baby mama and ensure the daughter is safe) and well, I just have too many issues in general. I didn't shed a tear mostly coz I didn't feel a thing. He insisted that we remain friends and I was ok with that. Then came the goodbye hug and finally, the river started gushing. I've never cried in front of any guy I've dated and there's nothing I hate more than crying in front of people. Even my closest friends and cousins rarely see my tears. For some strange reason, I see that as a sign of weakness.

Yet, here I was getting hysterical in front of Steve. I don't know which was worse, the fact that I still had feelings for him that I'd never had for any other guy, or the fact that I was not the one doing the breaking up. I somehow made it to my car and blindly stuck the key in the ignition. Steve came up on my side and took the key right out, and pulled me back into the house.

"I can't let you drive in this condition." Oh yeah, he was ever the sensible, caring man. He always stayed on the phone with me while I made my 40 minute drive home late at night. He could not sleep if he knew I wasn't home yet.

I finally pulled myself together and stopped crying. For the first time since I met him, he said the words "I love you". Usually it was "I really like you a lot." Well, that didn't change the fact that we were broken up. I called my gal Dee and my bro and told them Steve and I had broken up. They were the happiest ones when I first started dating Steve and informed them that I actually liked him a lot. They were more used to my short little flings in which I only told them about the guy after I'd dumped him.

So this is how a broken heart feels like. It was the worst feeling I'd ever experienced. I found myself thinking back to the previous summer and the guy I'd dumped after he told me he loved me. I didn't feel anything for him and on the day I dumped him, he started crying. I simply walked off and shut the door behind me. I ignored him for months and finally, we somehow became friends to this day. What a mean, horrible thing I'd done to him.

I tried to make it through the week in one piece. I hardly recall anything at all. I was simply existing. Then came Wednesday night and I got a text message from Steve wondering how I was doing. I ignored it. Thursday, voicemail from Steve wondering how I was doing. Ignored it until Dee called to tell me that I should call Steve. She'd seen him when she was at lunch with her boyfriend, and according to her, he looked really shabby and kept asking about me. A warm feeling ran through my heart. Really? So I picked up the phone and called him. Did I wanna meet him the next day for lunch? Without a second thought, I said yes.

Friday rolled around and I was excited to be having lunch with Steve, but I was also worried about how it would feel to see him after 5 days. Would it be a lot harder to get over him? There he was, looking hot and all. He was always so well groomed. I guess he must have gotten a hair cut the night before coz he surely didn't look shabby to me. After an awkward lunch, he walked me to my car and before I knew what was going on, we were all over each other. Now I was really confused. He started saying he missed me and we should not have broken up and asked me to think about getting back together. Think about it? Was he kidding? I didn't wanna give him the impression that I was willing to get back together at the drop of a hat, so I told him I would come see him the next day. I left with my heart singing all the way home.

Come Saturday, I did my usual family ritual in the morning, then headed over to Steve's. We didn't even talk. As soon as he opened the door, we were on each other. I have to say, make up sex is the best. In my mind, I recited a zillion reasons why I should never do something so dumb as looking through his phone and other crap like that. I was in love and he was in love with me and that's all that mattered. Or was it?

Are we speaking the same language here?

2006-10-18T23:11:00.000-07:00

So, I thought I'd break the stride and post something different, one that doesn't portray my psychotic aspect. First, thanks to all that have visited my blog so far. I actually feel welcomed and I hope I don't scare you all away with my crazy stories. But on the positive side, sometimes hearing about other people's craziness does make you feel a lot saner, doesn't it?

I loved keeping a journal. I'm very introspective and everyday I would sit and analyze my thoughts and actions. However, when your journal lands in the wrong hands, it really does discourage you from writing. Hence my switch to the blogs. There's just something about telling strangers about yourself. It's almost like a fetish.

Now onto something that pertains to the title. Why is it that many guys find it so hard to express their feelings? If you like someone, why not come right out and say it? The funny thing is, they have no problem saying sweet nothings they don't mean to other girls, but when it comes to someone they really really like, they'd rather die. Guys, correct me if I'm wrong.

Take for example guy 1 and guy 2. Both of them I've known for four or five years. Guy 1 was my study partner for the longest time in college and we hang out a lot and made samosas (he did, I can't make a samosa to save my life) and I was glad to have a guy friend that wasn't constantly trying to get in my pants. Right? Wrong. After four years of college, I found out from a mutual friend that he was "in love" with me and that was the only reason he would want to hang out and cook me samosas. Now how on earth was I supposed to know he was interested if he didn't ever hint at it? He's good looking and dateable, but now that I know his motives, we don't hang out as much and our friendship's feeble at best.

Then there's Guy 2. One of those "my mom and your mom went to high school together so we'll try to be civil to each other" relationships. I totally dislike him and we have never been able to spend more than half an hour together without arguing over something. We had to plan an event together recently, and during a break, we went to Starbucks for a quick cup of coffee. While making small talk, I mentioned the fact that I had a boyfriend. I hadn't seen Guy 2 in over 6 months and I'd always assumed that the dislike was a mutual feeling we held for each other. So imagine my shock when the guy starts tripping and going on and on about how he liked me and how he'd hoped to hook up sometime "soon". How on earth was I supposed to know that he liked me? Well, according to him, he helped me wash dishes one time after a party at my house, something he didn't like doing. And, I'm the only person he ever goes out for coffee with coz he hates coffee. HUH? How am I supposed to know that?

There are numerous other examples, but you get the point. So, guys, what is your way of showing a girl that you like her? And ladies, short of a guy blurting it out, how have you been able to tell that a certain guy likes you and is not necessarily after your booty?

Psycho-gal Part III

2006-10-18T22:21:00.000-07:00

With my heart doing its Olympic run once again, I turned on the phone, and this time, it stayed on. My brain kept screaming at me. STOP! STOP! THIS IS INSANE AND SO WRONG! Unfortunately, my brain was on its own this time. The rest of my body just couldn't hear it. And so I went straight to the inbox, taking a deep breath, and expecting the worst. All messages I saw were from the same number (all calls received and made from his phone were nameless numbers, and a quick look at the address book revealed 3 names). So there was the same one I'd read before. The one before that said "I love you". Looking at the outgoing messages, his last message was "I love you too".

Unfortunately, there weren't that many messages in the first place (5 inbox, 4 outbox) and for some strange reason, I was disappointed. What was I expecting? Definitely something a lot worse. Besides, the messages were sent the month before I met him. All the same, I became suspicious; after all, he'd told me he broke up with his last girlfriend last November. Maybe it wasn't a girlfriend but a cousin. I have cousins like that, the kind who text just to say "I love you". If he didn't know they were my cousins when he read my messages, he would probably think I was cheating.

I looked at the call history again, and this time, something was different. There was a call made the day before, after all these months. I thought it strange that he used that phone to make the call, especially since he had another phone that worked perfectly fine. I filed this piece of info away. For no good reason, I memorized the number from which the text messages were sent, in case I spotted it again on his current phone. I then used the phone to dial mine and realized that it was a totally different number. Why on earth did he have two functional lines? Actually, he had two other phones that he never used, why the many phones? All of them almost new? In a different lifetime, I could easily have been a detective (or crook)...

I was sure to erase the call I made to my phone. Then ensured that the phone actually died. Then once again, went into panic mode. What was I doing exactly? Never in my life had I done anything so outrightly stupid and insane. In fact, I'd never cared much to even look at any of my ex-boyfriends' phones, even when they left me with their phones for hours. So then, why was I obsessed with Steve's? What exactly did I want? Reassurance that there really was no other girl in the picture? That was absurd. I trusted him 100%, more than I'd ever trusted any other guy. So what was the problem? Is this what love does to you?

How the hell was I gonna return his phone? It was Thursday morning and I wasn't gonna see him over the weekend coz I had family coming from out of town and would be busy. By the end of the weekend, I was pretty sure he would notice his phone was missing. I called my girl, Dee. It was confession time. I had to tell someone what I'd done, or else I would die. Over lunch at our fav Italian restaurant, I recounted the crazy story. The entire time, all she said was "Oh my God!" and "I can't believe you did that" followed by bouts of laughter expressing shock. She gave me the advice I knew she would: return the phone without being caught and don't say anything.

Steve called me later in the day, and we chitchatted for awhile, trying to avoid any mention of my little visit to his house the previous night. Since we were both at work, we did our usual "how's your day going" and hang up. Later that night, I called him to apologize for showing up at his house unannounced. He sounded so sweet over the phone. I could picture him lying on his couch, probably playing his stupid video games and half listening to what I was saying. Then I spilled the beans.

"Honey, I have your phone."

A puzzled moment of silence. I held my breath, anticipating his next question.

"What do you mean you have my phone?"

"Well, umm...last night...you see, well, last night when I was on my way out...." Then I totally freaked out and started blabbering about...well, I don't know what gibberish I was saying coz the next thing I heard was "slow down, baby, you need to take a deep breath and relax. What happened?"

With that, I had a total melt down. I have never felt so guilty in my whole entire life. When I was done telling him what I'd done (minus my trip to Sprint store to buy a charger; it's enough for him to know I took his phone but it was dead. It's already scary without saying the truly psychotic part), I held my breath. Was he gonna hang up? Yell at me? Curse me out? Break up with me right there and then?....To be Continued...

Psycho-gal Part II

2006-10-17T22:31:00.000-07:00

As I stood there staring at that same silver phone, a strange thought occurred to me. I could hear Steve's footsteps as he got ready to head downstairs. Without thinking, I bent down and picked up the phone. I looked towards the stairs and saw his feet starting to climb down. I picked up my purse and threw the phone in, and when Steve came up behind me to kiss me on the neck, I pretended to be searching for my car keys. My heart was thudding wildly and I tried my best to avoid eye contact. Amid my craziness, I totally failed to notice the look on Steve's face. In retrospect, I can safely say he wasn't too happy I showed up at his house without calling. Later, he would confess that he thought I was spying on him, hence the unannounced visit. Even though those were not my intentions at the time, seeing how crazy I've been acting lately, I wouldn't be surprised if some shrink told me that that was the real reason behind my visit.

Anyhow, my drive home was very long. What the hell was I thinking? I wanted so badly to stop by the curb somewhere and turn on the phone, but I knew I had to be patient. And then it hit me. Oh my God!! I was a thief! I had just stolen my boyfriend's phone. Maybe after all these years, I was finally losing it. I went into panic mode, and the rest of my drive home is a big blur.

Once I got home, I sat on my bed for a long time debating whether or not to switch on the phone. In my mind, I had a million different ideas on how to return the phone without Steve ever noticing it was missing in the first place. After all, he didn't use it. I could just throw it back under the couch, or even under the passenger seat of his car. He's so messy, he wouldn't be suspicious.

Since I'd already taken the phone, might as well look at the contents, right? Heart pounding, I pressed the power button. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold the phone. I waited for the phone to light up, but as soon as it did, a message popped up indicating the battery was low, and it immediately went dead. I tried this several times, but the stupid phone wouldn't cooperate for just a few minutes, long enough for me to read the damn messages then it could die all it wanted. I looked at the phone company. Sprint. Just my luck. I have Verizon, and I could not think of a single person I knew that owned a Sprint phone. Besides, what was I gonna say? May I borrow your charger so I can spy on my boyfriend's text messages? Disappointed as hell, I went to sleep angry at the phone, but mostly, angry at myself for being such a bitch. That night, my dreams were filled with scenarios of how to return the phone unnoticed. Steve had never given me reason to distrust him, and if he ever found out I took his phone, I knew that would be the end of our relationship. No, I couldn't let that happen.

The next day I woke up with a strange feeling in my stomach. It only took a few seconds to remember just how much I'd fucked up the night before. Stealing? STEALING??!! What was wrong with me? How could I do something so dumb? The disappointment at going to all that trouble for nothing kept getting bigger and bigger. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself paying $42.95 and walking out of a Sprint PCS store with a brand new charger. Whereas my brain kept screaming at me that I was completely psycho, my heart felt nothing. For the first time since I'd stolen Steve's phone, I was not panicky, and my heart was not beating at lightning speed either. I got home and charged the phone for exactly 2 minutes, careful that when I was done with it, it would be dead. I was also careful not to unwrap the entire charger, that way, I could return it as soon as I was done.

With my heart doing its Olympic run once again, I turned on the phone, and this time, it stayed on. My brain kept screaming at me. STOP! STOP! THIS IS INSANE AND SO WRONG! Unfortunately, my brain was on its own this time. The rest of my body just couldn't hear it. And so I went straight to the inbox, taking a deep breath, and expecting the worst....To Be Continued...

Psycho-gal...part I

2006-10-17T09:20:00.000-07:00

You wanna know just how psychotic you really are? I have a simple answer. Just get into a relationship. Not just any relationship, but one where you actually LOVE the guy. You'll be amazed at how much stupid shit you're capable of doing. I used to be totally jazzed by the chicks that we're all quick to label as "drama queens". You know, the type that will start pulling another chick's hair, burning down their man's house, the whole nine yards? Sure, I often laughed at how any self-respecting woman with a sense of pride and dignity could demean herself like that. Well, that was before I met Steve, my current boyfriend (?) and fell head over heels in love...finally, at the age of 22 I fall in love!

We have a tradition, Steve and I. We work 5 minutes apart and everyday after work, we meet at this coffeeshop at the mall and talk, study for our big exams coming up, watch movies, shop, or head over to his house. On this particular evening, he didn't want to meet coz he had to go home and finish up a project for work. So here I was, all alone at the coffeeshop (something I usually enjoyed), feeling dejected. Granted, I was PMSing and for some strange reason, feeling needy and clingy. What I wanted from Steve that night was some TLC, not "I have to finish up a project from work".

So I went shopping, bought me a sexy little top and decided to surprise him at home and give him a break from his work. He lives 30 minutes away from the mall. On my drive there, I kept picturing him opening his door in boxers (that's how he chills at home) and me standing there with a big smile on my face and as soon as the door closes, I jump on him and we make love right there on his living room floor. The closer I got to his house, the more excited I got. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I kept thinking that maybe I should call to see how far he'd gotten with his work, but I dismissed the idea.

So I get to Steve's house, ring the door bell and wait and wait. He finally opens the door, wearing the red shorts I absolutely love, with a white vest and glasses. First time I'd seen him wear glasses in the 2 months we'd been dating, and he looked incredibly sexy. He prefers contacts (and he usually forgets and sleeps in them). As soon as the door opens, I realize that something's wrong. He stands there, looking perplexed and in turn, I look at him in surprise and start feeling stupid. He lets me in, gives me a really lame, weak hug and then there's an awkward silence before he declares that he's still working on his project and he has some paperwork to finish by morning.

"Why didn't you call honey, I could have saved you a half hour of driving."

With that, he goes upstairs to the study room and I'm left all alone watching TV, talking on the phone and all around feeling stupid. After an hour, it's 10:30, and embarassed, I go upstairs to tell him that I was sorry for bugging him and I was gonna leave. My little fantasy of making love on the living room carpet had long evaporated and I just wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out again. I kissed him and started to walk away. He pulled me back and asked me to wait so he could throw a shirt on and walk me out. So I went downstairs and just as I heard his shuffling feet headed downstairs, I saw a silver cell phone poking from under his couch and had a flashback to the previous day.

On our way to his crib, we'd stopped by the grocery store to grab juice. He left me in the car, and bored to death, my eye caught a silver cell phone lying on the floor of the car. Why on earth does he have two perfectly good phones? Out of boredom and curiosity, I picked the phone up and started playing with it. I turned it on, and to my surprise, it readily lit up. I went straight to the call history (last call made a few days before I met him) and then the text messages. The first one I read was from some nameless number declaring "I wanted to cum ova" sent at 12:54 a.m. and that's as far as I went because I looked up and saw Steve walking out of the store. With that, I turned off the phone and became really hot and bothered. I acted like nothing was going on and within hours, forgot about the phone and the message.

Now, as I stood there staring at that same silver phone, a strange thought occurred to me. I could hear Steve's footsteps as he got ready to head downstairs. Without thinking, I bent down and picked up the phone.....To Be Continued....

Introduction

2006-10-16T22:44:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, a brief introduction here. I am a 22-year-old female, born in Kenya and now living in the U.S. I have had a very interesting life, most of which I don't care to remember (but I have to endure the memories nevertheless). I grew up in the traditional African setting that many kids are raised in, and for the most part, was a "good girl" that always stuck to the rules. When it came to men, I was as innocent as they come. I have had a chance to mess around with a couple of them, but sometimes I'm truly amazed at some of the things men do. And so this blog will mostly document my relationships, and how bad I am at that kind of stuff. In my world, I tend to believe that men and women really are different, hence the title of the blog. Feel free to leave comments, there's nothing I would love more than to hear both men's and women's perspectives. On some issues though, I will say right now that I'm completely on my own. This is my space, in this big wide net, simply writing down my thoughts, lest I go crazy. Don't crucify me for being me, just have fun and welcome to my world.