Monday, 19 December 2011

Fantasy


There are two strong convictions that I live by. Numero uno- If you sincerely and legitimately use the word “never” in a sentence, It’s going to come true. Like, “I will never go skinny dipping at night.” One, it’s going to happen. Two, it won’t for me because I would secretly like to go skinny dipping given the chance. Deux- Whatever scenario I think up, it won’t happen. Now number two can be either advantageous or not depending on the side of the coin. For example, what if we’re robbed and break into the house and mercilessly gut us till our insides flow out? Then I can breathe easy and sleep like a baby because I KNOW they won’t. Why? I already thought of it! J Or what if today when we go out I’ll meet someone who will totally rock my night and who knows he just won’t be thinking ‘chips-funga potential’? Then it dawns on my sorry heart that that won’t happen. You know why? I already thought of it! L Scoff all you want but these two convictions have yet to fail me. It’s a system that the universe and I have agreed to and are comfortable with. I’m able to steer off possible disasters, sleep soundly and occasionally try to cheat the ‘never’ rule while the universe gets to laugh at my expense on whatever silly thing I was hoping to achieve or when it catches me off-guard . See, mutual benefits.

Now why talk of my convictions? In a minute. See, it’s the holidays and with the holidays comes travelling. My dad is the kind of guy who believes in building a firm grasp of one’s roots and to butter us up he takes us for a one week holiday to the county of sea and sand. In the package is also a week’s stay at a hotel which includes breakfast and supper. By the end of the week, your stomach basically expands with glee and your body is re- energized by all the swimming pool action. Every year we go I always hope for a bit of holiday romance and very year it’s the same result- nothing. Zilch. Nyiet. Hakuna. Oonge. Of course this is due to conviction number two. Once I think it, it isn’t happening. You hope for some interesting hunk to be in the next room so that when you ‘accidentally’ meet by the balcony, you strike up conversation and ‘poof!’ your week is made! Of course this never happens (You know the minute I genuinely thought up ‘never’ my mind immediately went to “yes! I thought of never! Conviction number one! This will happen!” Then I confidently wrote down ‘never’ with that I- know-a-secret confidence and just like that, it went down the drain. I’d used ‘never’ illegitimately. My life sucks balls.) By day 3, you will settle for a ‘lookable’. Don’t look at me like that, like you’ve never done that before you self-righteous prick. By day 5, you’ll settle for life n the next room. THEN THE UNIVERSE BEING THE PRICK IT IS, GRANTS YOU THAT! It’s evening; you’re heading to the balcony to air out some starfish you bought. Yeah, I, as a domestic tourist contribute to the gross domestic product of the locals. And they say tourism only generates revenue from foreigners. :P Word from the wise- starfish smell like fish. Real fish, like tilapia or nileperch. I kid you not. So as you buy starfish thinking ‘wow, how pretty, I can see you near my night stand’ , remember my words, or your nose will do it for you. Wow, trains of thought come back to the rails. Back to airing out starfish and wanting to stare at the sea at night and wham! You have company. ‘Hi!’ You’re staring at two Indian dudes late 20s early 30s in the next balcony.  Side note: Is it just me or is two dudes who are not siblings in the same room a tad bit weird?  You say hi back and you have that awkward conversation with two men at the balcony, smiling a lot, because it’s just polite (no matter how uncomfortable you are). Then weird questions are asked like are you alone, who are you staying with, is your sister a model (This was actually asked!), I hear there’s salsa later, maybe we can talk more after dinner… That’s when you start thinking exit strategy, laugh a lot and mumble something as you edge closer and closer t the sliding door. Once contact is broken, close the said slide door and ever so slowly, close the curtains to avoid suspicious thoughts from the neighbors. After that it was duck and cover and stand next to dad during dinner- it helps that my dad is 6 foot plus tall. They stayed for two more days I think, (I avoided the balcony like a flu outbreak in a girl’s boarding school. Not as bad as the plague so that you never step your foot in there, but you know when and where to avoid.). The morning we were about to leave, busted at the balcony again, this time middle-aged Kenyan. All I could say was “morning” and wheel my bags out of there.
 You’d think I’d be jaded by now after that fiasco in Coast but I’m an optimist. Second trip is coming up in a day’s time- the upcountry haul-up. It’s a haul up because you carry so much stuff from your own luggage to clothes for people in the village. Food that reminds you of Nairobi to granny’s own shopping. Last but definitely not least, new appliances for the house. Anyway, I have exactly 3 days for any romantic brou-hah to happen. Day 1- When we travel. Day 2- The day spent in Kisumu. Day 3- Those few hours before we start the slow descent to being closer to Uganda than Kenya. You all know rule number 1 and 2, but hear me out what if I was to circumvent the rules? How, you ask? What if by believing in number two to the point that whatever I think up and the subsequent total conviction that it won’t happen, makes it a non-entity. Thereby fooling the universe into ‘surprising’ me when it’s what I actually wanted. Huh? Huh? Reverse psychology at its best! Booyah!
I’m thinking hot neighbor in the bus who happens to like the same music I like or mysterious cool guy in the hotel who is a total daredevil. No? What about sweet dude in the book section of the supermarket? T.D.H (Tall,Dark,Handsome) on some amazing ride in town. Oh, the wonderful possibilities! Only 3 days to outsmart the universe, or it will pay me back by sending one weirdo after another and it’s a looooong  bus ride!

Blaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

This was my state two days ago. Life looked really bleary till I had chocolate. Chocolate does wonders..........    
I’m lost. I feel crazy, scared, conflicted, restless, bored or just depressed. I’m talking to myself again. Not just talking, having bloody conversations with myself! This is baaaaad. Wine isn’t helping and there’s chocolate in the house that I can’t touch. CHOCOLATE! Who cares about opening a gift basket on Christmas I need it now! Besides Christmas is not as fun as it used to be. I want to scream, to throw things, to dance, to kiss a boy and still have conversations with myself. My God, I’m going mad. Not just the funny bananas one, nooooo the white strait jacket in the psychiatric ward mad. I need direction in my life, a bit of spontaneity. Life no longer makes sense. It’s not fun anymore. Not FUN! Maybe if I ran away from home. Yeah right, and have my dad driving all over Nairobi looking for me. The drama of Christmas 2009 courtesy of my brother reloaded.
I need a life. I mean, how can my conversations be largely based on cartoons (I still love cartoons though) and ‘remember when’s? I swear my life had an ounce of meaning like 2 months ago. ARRRRRGH! So how’ve you guys been?