A few things about me

Archive for May, 2009

Movies

This is an incomprehensive list of my memorable movies and why so:

  • The Secretary : very sexy movie very! James Spader who first caught my attention Boston Legal is amazing in it.
  • A History of Violence : best sex scene ever on film! Hot

 

and that’s just about it! so yeah.. I got sex on the brain! lol

Advertisements

Let’s talk about sex baby!

I have been wanting to do the post on sex after reading a thread at Mashada that was started by Sanaa (I think she used to have a blog then closed it). The thread was about anal sex.

I laughed, blushed, squirmed, was disgusted, laughed some more, told hubby about the post, we both laughed. I was appalled, freaked out, tickled.. basically it made for good reading and entertainment.

Reading it I drew the conclusion that I am a prude. I could never ever discuss sex the way it was. I will not even give my point  of view on the various sex variations to even my closest friends.

In my world that stuff is for me and hubby to discuss. End of.

anyway.. it as an interesting thread.

What is my take on sex.. none of ya business!

Good night lovely people

Ugly Beauty

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a long time but I can’t. I cannot do it justice without hurting people left right and center and much as I would love to let it all out I remember that with freedom comes responsibility.

The post was to be about the person who first told me I was ugly and I believed them. It was to be about how the things said to us as young people shape our lives.

I don’t know how I was aware of it or how it came into my sphere of knowledge but from about 7 years of age I knew I was ugly. Ok so maybe ugly is harsh but all the same I knew I was not pretty like other girls. I had serious buck teeth. I still have a large overbite but not as bad thanks to my mother and my dentist of many years. (I never did the railwaytrack things, we couldn’t afford them)

Perhaps it was in standard 1 when the “Urembo squad” girls teamed up and left me and Z out of the group. We were the only two girls not included in a “squad”. There was the rich girls, the pretty girls then there was me and Z. Or perhaps it was in standard 3 when Mrs T was praising all the girls handwritings and when I quickly jotted something down and asked her how mine was she said it was not as good as Urembo Squad girl no.2. And so it went on throughout primary school. I got acne far before my teens, had blemished teeth due to flourosis, was always the tallest girl in my class. I look back and my heart goes out to the girl me, yet in a strange freakish way, it never bogged me down. I was never depressed but I was needy. I clung to the little morsels of friendship from the Urembo Squad girls. Oh I so badly wanted to belong. But Z stood by me and we were always together. I was mean to a certain girl. Let’s call her D. P had joined my class in standard 5 and had decided to be my friend then comes along D and to me it felt like she was trying to take her away from me.. out came the nastiness. I wasn’t directly nasty to her.. but I was sneaky nasty.  God to be in Standard 5.

  Standard 6 was hellish. For a term or two terms, memory fails me, no one talked to me in class because I somehow managed to piss off Queen Bee. I remember going to school not having a fully equiped set and needing to borrow a protractor from the classmate who sat besides me. She refused to let me use hers, while the maths teacher waited for us all to measure our angles. He then walks over to classmate and takes the protractor from her and gives it to me. She had two. Me begging mum to buy me a set cause no one would lend me stuff. Mum refusing cause she had no money and the set she bought in January was to last the whole year! Standard 6 was one hell of a nightmare. OnlyJ would talk to me and that was after school when she would ring me and tell me how in trouble I was with Queen bee. To this day I remember Queen Bee clearly and wonder what I would say to her if I ever meet her.

Back to being ugly. I accepted I was not good looking and that no boy would be interested in me. So when all the girls were having  boy crushes, I was not bothered because boys did not feature in my dreams. The same attitude carried on to high school. I didn’t go for the prom (social) in form 4 and 6 because I figured that it was better not to go than be benched =not being asked for a dance. I stayed behind with the group of “saved girls” who believed proms were immoral. It was a fucked up mess.. the religiousity of my school.

My first kiss was a nice guy. I let him because he was kenyan and cute and was interested. I knew I was not what he wanted, but I was almost 21 and had never been kissed. Then came this West African dude who wanted me and he was a wanted guy sorta.. but he wanted me and that was just unbelievable.. but I did not want him. He did good for my ego cause he got crushed when I turned him down. It was then that I begun to think that maybe maybe I was not so ugly.. cause if West African guy wanted me.. ..hello.. dude wanted to buy me a mobile phone ..those were the days they cost a fortune. To tell the truth, West African dude kinda signed his own dumpee fate. One day when walking in town he says to me in conversatin “You certainly not the prettiest girl I have seen, you’re ok.. I mean I have seen prettier but you’re ok” and I was thinking “idiot.. you’re trying to get in my pants, the least you could say is that I am the prettiest thing you ever did see.. make me feel wanted” dude signed his fate.

Then between kenyan and West AFrican guy was South African dude. Oh baby! God bless K. God bless that man. For those few weeks he where showered me with his attention he did more for my self worth as a  young woman than anyone could in a hundred years. He was GORGEOUS. He was BEAUTIFUL and he WANTED ME yet he had all these beautiful women around him but for those few days and weeks he wanted me. I knew what he wanted from me and was unable to give it up.. but Lord the man was fine. I heard he still is and guess what he remembers me. K  knows an old friend of mine in passing. They bumped into each other a few years back and he was like “hey you know Mrembo.. how is she” so friend of mine whom I hadn’t spoke to in ages cause she had immigrated called me and was like “what the hell did you do to that man that after all these years he still remembers you”….my ego flew!

Every ugly girl deserves a K in thier lives. The man who will show you that you are desirable that you are woman.

I got lost reminiscing. I got smiles just remembering. I kid you not that man was finer than fine.

and I have completely lost track as to why I started this post. K has me smiling.

I think, that like fine wine I have aged beautifully 🙂 or maybe I am fine with who I am now. Big Al is responsible for a lot of that. Just the other day we were talking and I was telling him (seriously) how for a long time I thought he would call it quits. I couldn’t quite accept that he wanted me and that he found me attractive. But he did and he does and more than any of those guys I have mentioned he made me feel special from the very first time I met him and that’s how I kinda knew that he was the one!

Good night

Ugly or beautiful we are all people wanting to be desired and when you find the one.. oh the magic!

(you wouldn’t believe that a few hours ago I raised my voice in anger at my husband for the very first time. That’s what love does. He is the one person that can piss me off without even trying.. but I love  and like him still)

I speak, You speak

I speak, French,

I speak Swa

I speak English

I speak Giriama

I speak Chinese yada yada yada.. the list goes on.

There’s a debate in Denmark about Bi-ligual children;about how they are not good enough at Danish and as a result are failing in school. My danish teacher once explained it to me after my rant about the media reharshing this topic over and over . (I have a tendency to take things personal even when it does not apply to me). He said that the issue is not that the kids do not know danish.. oh well it is.. but that by being bi-ligual (speaking danish only out of home and whatever else at home) the children never fully develop a vocabulary in either language. So they neither excell at Danish nor their mother tongue. The problem is primarily concentrated within inner-city kids.

Today’s headlines had me pondering  intertribal marriages back home into which many children are born, especially in the city and big towns. What then is thier language and does the rise of intertribal marriages accross Africa mean the slow but sure death of local languages. How many of you guys here can say you are PROFICIENT in all the languages you speak.Personally, I wouldn’t dare put my hand up. English is my mother tongue. My mother being Kenyan and dad Ugandan meant that the first language I was exposed to at home  for the first 3 years of my life was English. When they separated my mum spoke to us in English,Swahili and occasionaly her local language. I picked up her language by hearing it at home. We always had maids from mother’s village and lived with a few of my relatives throughout my childhood. In actual fact from the time I was 3 I was constantly exposed to 3 languages at home at all times. As a result my abilities in languages ranks as follows.

English: Excellent both oral and written (though my grammar leaves a lot to be desired).

Swahili: Good orally and ok written.

Danish: Good orally and ok written (as a result of living here for over 3 years and having to speak it outside of my house.)

Dad’s language: okayish orally, hopless written (learned it informally from form 1 till I left Ug 8 years ago)

Mum’s language: will speak under duress but understand it fully… actually better than dad’s but speak dad’s better however do not understand as widely.

French: Studied it from form 1 to university: did not use it after leaving uni.. so it all’s in there. I read it best. Speaking is now difficult since I find I mix it with danish. Writing it is but a fantasy.

So far my son cannot speak intelligibly but has an understanding of English and Danish. His father speaks to him only in Danish and I speak only English. I won’t lie, I sometimes worry because he is rather behind on his speech, but everyone from the doctor to the child carers at his daycare say that his speech development is typical of bilingual children. An old accquaintance (she is English and ex is danish) told me her son first spoke properly when he was 4 and he spoke both danish and english perfectly from then on.

Time and Dreams

Just finished watching a movie and a lot of the lines in the movie had something to do with life and how one approaches it.  So sitting there watching it, my mind just went off tangent and I had a period of clarity in which I saw and see my life and realise;

  • I have never watched a sunset or sunrise and I think that’s sad.

 

  • I haven’t really been living life. I have been afraid of so many things. Afraid to just live and ride the wave that is my life. All my life I  have  had a plan B C and D and it is exhausting. So in my process of letting go of all my baggage and stuff, I am letting go of this paralysing fear that has been with me for some time. It has decreased in it’s intensity over the last year and more so over the last few months, but there remains some lingering touches and I am letting it all go. So hell with it all. Watch me fly.

 

  • I have been afraid of failure and have never exactly had a measure of what that failure is. In the process of defining what failure is to me I realise it has all been hog wash. So what if I have this education and pedigree and end up living in my mother’s village tending to my chickens, 3 goats and a cow. (that is how I picture my retirement). So what if I never have the best clothes that cost xyz. So what?? As long as I have my husband, my child grows up to be an upstanding moral, honorable man who is happy in life, I will be fine.

 

  • All the things I have thought were crazy to do like learning to ride those speed crazy yamaha motobikes, taking dance lessons, perfecting my swimming, being a bodyguard… they aren’t all crazy and I am going to try them all.

 

  • The best of all is that I can finally embrace my beast. We all have a beast and I guess part of life is learning to embrace her/him. Sometimes the beast wins and we become evil, horrible people. It’s a balancing act and I am learning it’s alright to embrace her, know her, learn her, then control her but once in a while she needs to be unleashed. The ying and yang that makes us human.

 

  • To finish it all, I am alright as I am. I am totally perfect in my imperfection! Go figure

Go ahead and diagnose

I’m scared.

For the past week I have had this strange sensation at the bottom of my big toe. It feels like there is something crawling on the bottom of my toe. Then there’s the feeling like it got burned but is now healing. Very strange. It is not numbness or tingling.. just like something is crawling on me and I have to brush it off and scratch it. 

The feeling is now on and off on my palms and other foot.  I thought it would pass. Now I have to go see the doc.

I really do not want this to be serious. I am leaning towards diabetes but thinking.. nah ah! I can,t be diabetic. I ain’t fat. Had some tests a few weeks ago and doc said I am as normal as can be. What the heck can this be. Tomorrow’s a public holiday so can’t see the do til monday.

ugh!

 

oh and I just looked at my draft box and I have 6 posts in there that have yet to see the light of day.  They suck. delete