Binyavanga says seeing is noticing, and I smile every time I realise he’s right. Like when I look at this one boy. I knew he was pretty the first time I saw him, but he’s kind of distant and off-putting. I’ve had my share of deep, broody types, so I’m not about to go poking about in his psychie. I’m quite content to sigh from afar. But it turns out I’m watching a lot more closely than I realised.

I’m not blogging as much as I’d like, and I’m not entirely sure why. Too much going on I guess. Or maybe it’s that I’m writing so much for work that I forget to do it for fun. It’s the same with my twitter stream. I used to enjoy talking to people, having conversations, getting tidbits and snippets on stuff. But lately I mostly just talk to myself. My timeline has become like one of those twegomaniacs who think no one else exists, and that’s a little sad. I’ve tried to improve it by making lists, and we’ll see how well that works. Until then, I shall keeping randomly passive aggressive-ing and asking vaguely work related question like, you know, how to convert YouTube video to iTunes audio. Thanks @KevDaNative, and you too @KaulVimal. You’re my heroes. And that’s the second time a Twitter question has been resolved by someone sitting right next to me. It’s cool … but it’s also worrying.

My friend Z visited this weekend. She’s a beautiful person, in so many different ways. I don’t see her as often as I’d like because … well … I have issues. I assume that if I keep asking to see you and you keep saying no, then it’s a personal rejection. Plus, I hate to impose myself on people, or to feel dependent on them. It never occurs to me that this is Nairobi and people are busy, and that’s it’s not always about me. So after a while, I simply stop asking, and I’ve lost a lot of friends that way.

Anyway, when I heard an unexpected knock this Saturday, I thought about not answering. Who wants visitors anyway? And when will people learn to call first? Still, I opened the door, grumbles and all, and was so glad to see her. I’ve promised to put her on leash so she doesn’t stay away so long, and to drown my self-despising tendencies long enough to seek her out when she does. Then maybe someday, I’ll extend the temporary lack of self-loathing to all my other friends.

In addition to her loveliness, Z brought a much appreciated car ride for Princess and the baby, and she came with shopping and goodies like strawberry black tea and Sossi Soya! Whod’a thunk fake meat could taste so good?!? Thank you Z, you totally made my day in so many different ways. I don’t have many friends, but I’m eternally grateful that the few I have are good.

I’m constantly being told not to overanalyse things, and I always respond with a snap. It’s not like I decide that I will now sit and think. Well, okay, sometimes I do. But mostly I’m just sitting somewhere doing something and my mind goes off by itself, and by the time I get it back, it’s been running for miles and miles. But once in a while, the scope of things is too wide to analyse, so I give up and spend twelve hours watching Big Bang Theory. I’m in a place like that now, and I find that I worry a lot less. I want to think I’m getting older and wiser, and that I’m realising things are never that serious. I want to think I can enjoy my happiness and let the consequences take care of themselves. I want to think that in five years from now, this ish will all be easier. But for now, I’ll settle for a chat, a smile, and the words to my latest favourite song.

♫ Promises promises ♫ Incubus ♫

You know those people who only use their laptops at 20%? I’m one of them. I only log onto messenger, Gtalk, Picassa, Word … and Character Map. Oh, and I once created really gorgeous business cards with Photoshop. I never got to use them, because I got a day job three days later, but at least I know how to do it now. Anyway, clearly, I have no business doing anything in tech. That despite my geeky fetish … and the fact that I work at a digital agency. Which is how I ended up with a smartphone.

You see, I don’t like to spend a lot on phones, so I’ve had about four different kinds of Mulika Mwizis. At one point, I had 4 Nokia 1200 handsets. At the same time. And they were all active.  I know, I’m special. I recently upgraded to a pretty China thing that sorta-kinda had twin-sim and internet. But after a few weeks at the agency, I realised that I needed a real phone. You can’t be a ‘social media expert‘ and walk around with a phone that doesn’t even tweet! Enter ED, my pretty black Ideos. And then … the nightmare began.

ED and I spent our first night together online. I would type stupid questions on Twitter, then punch him to get a response. Yes, ED is a touch phone, but I wasn’t touching – I was punching. Here’s the thing. Before buying the Ideos, I knew very little about smartphones and phoneternet. All I knew was that it’s a bad idea to surf outside of bundles. Please note that I had no idea just what bundles were, since I pay my Zuku bill just once a month, so I have no idea how people watch MBs. Note, also, that I once told a workmate that I had a 2MB flashdisk and 512GB modem, and I had no idea why he was laughing.

So when I took my pretty new Ideos from its box, I spent some time reading the instructions booklets. I read them cover-to-cover because … well … I do things like that. Then I turned it on … and spent ten minutes staring at it. It wasn’t because it was pretty. It was because I was waiting for the writing to disappear. At some point, I used my finger to trace the pretty rainbow text … and was prompted to ‘Drag to unlock the screen’. Oopsie!

Next, the phone prompted me to key in my Google password. Then the troubles began. See, my passwords are an interesting mix of Swa, slang, Jang, French, and Leetspeak. They’re all perfectly logical words inside my head, but on paper, they’re 13 digits of gibberish. Now, try typing 13 digits of nonsense on an Android keyboard when you’re so blonde that you can’t get the bloody screen unlocked. =(

After half an hour, I had successfully keyed in my password. Next, the phone started issuing instructions like ‘Press to open keyboard’ and stuff, but each time I tried to get anywhere, I ended up typing the wrong letter. It was even worse because I had to switch between the ABC and 123 inputs. God! At some point, a Google window opened, and I was jazzed by the clarity and pretty colours.

And then … the phone went off! It took me another five minutes to realise I’d run out of credit. But how?!? I hadn’t even done anything yet!

I’d bought some airtime with the intention of buying a bundle – even though I still had no idea what that was. I knew it involved keying *544 or 450# or something like that, and I figured I should turn the net off before I reloaded anything. Thing is … I had no idea how to do that! I didn’t know what any button did, and when I managed to stumble into settings, I had no idea what they were! There was something about Wi-Fi and 2G. I didn’t even know there was 2G. It’s not like I’d heard the term before. I tried to tweet my question, and about a hundred people answered like this:

Please note that at this point, I still had no idea of exactly what an effing bundle was!! Anyway, after a few more lost, blonde questions, I finally found the ‘off’ button, loaded my bundle, and started exploring. It was quite frustrating because everything needed a password, and logging in took me ten minutes a try. Plus, for reasons that can only be attributed to my specialness, I kept forgetting where the settings were =(

Three days into my Ideos nightmare, I downloaded a Touchpal Keyboard which, thank God, turned my Ideos into a phone! The only problem was … nothing else worked! The phone would hang for ages, and the only advice I could get was ‘Try turning it off and on again.’ Groan. Also, I hung up on a lot of people … because I couldn’t figure out how to take calls! Also, I routinely woke the entire household because I didn’t know how to put off the alarm. And I panicked because I somehow lost all my numbers, and my phone book was now inexplicably full of Gtalk avatars. Did I mention I almost threw the phone because it kept on going landscape on me? Why do I have a smartphone again?

Fast forward to two weeks later, and I now know where all the features are, though I still don’t know how to use them. The only thing I do consistently is turn data off and on as necessary, and I can’t even tweet because I type too slow. I did successfully update a twitpic, which is a huge achievement for me, so yay! Of course, I had to explain to the princess why I was eating Maryland cookies without her…

Still, my nightmare was far from over, because now I had to use ED for *gulp* work. I was required to attend a function and tweet. Live. Yes. This with a phone that I could barely switch on and off! I tried to get them to let me use a laptop, but the closest compromise was to let me use a Blackberry. I have never used a Blackberry. Let’s just say it didn’t end well.

So now I have extra homework. I have to learn to tweet from my Ideos in realtime, and I have to do it without typos, mishaps, or moments of blondeness. It would also help if I could regularly twitpic, and if I could do all these combined tasks really, really fast. All I can say is … God help me!

♫ Ships in the night ♫ Mat Kearney ♫

Sunday used to be my day. My little girl would go to church with her grandad and I would spend the morning chilling in pyjamas and listening to the silence of my calm, empty house. Then once that got old, I’d throw on the pink headphones and sing along to loud, endless rock.

Now, I have one extra baby and a mboch, so I rarely have the house to myself . The baby is my nephew, and he’s a pretty cool addition. He’s a happy little bundle, and everyone around him gets these wide unprompted smiles. He doesn’t seem to like me though. See, I’m the designated daddy figure. I leave before he wakes up, give him a quick hug when I get home, and pay all the bills while my ‘wife’ – #NoHomo – does all the cooking and the cleaning and the cuddling and the feeding.

On Sundays, my ‘wife’ – again #NoHomo – goes to do her churchy things, and I’m left with staring contests and the baby. I can feed and change and bathe him, but the neighbours always know when ‘wifey’ isn’t around because the baby stops laughing and starts … well … that other thing that babies do. Meh.

Anyway, today the weather was really bad, so the mboch chose not to go and do her churchy things. And since she’s really attached to the baby, she chose to keep him occupied while I kept myself busy harassing the Zuku guy. Story for another day. After he was gone, I was free to throw on the pink headphones, sing along to tuneless rock, and get some blogging done, so yay!

In slightly related news, I finally got ♫ Canon Rock ♫ as my ringtone. Yay! The only problem is … it never rings long enough for anyone to know what it is! So it sounds like my phone calls start with loud, long violins. Oh crumbs 🙁

One of my favourite rock songs is ♫ Place for my head ♫ by Linkin Park. There’s a line that goes ‘You tried to take the best of me! Go away!‘ The line is whispered four times with increasing intensity, then Chester yells it four more times, just to make sure you got the message. That man makes me sooooooo happy!

But not all rock songs rock … for lack of a better word. For example, ♫ All these lives ♫ by Daughtry was awesome until I figured out what it was about. Now it just makes me sad. ♫ Kangaroo cry ♫ by Blue October is depressingly sensible. And ♫ Crazy ♫ by Simple Plan is just plain annoying.

Here’s the thing. Rock is poetry, and poetry shouldn’t have to be explained. It should be intrinsic. Rock songs don’t say ‘You broke my heart, you cheated on me, how could you, I want to stab you, let’s go save the elephants!’ They say ‘Wanna put my tender heart in a blender, watch it spin round to a beautiful oblivion!’ They don’t say ‘He slept with my best friend and called his name, my life is over!’ They say ‘I’m six feet from the edge and I’m thinking maybe six feet ain’t so far down.’

They don’t say ‘Throw my pager out the window coz you’re buggin me buggaboo’. They say ‘Communication, telephonic invasion, it’s your fault I gotta screen my phone calls!’ They don’t say ‘I tried to call you and got so scared that I hung up.’ They say ‘I practised all my lines to the telephone while you were sleeping.’ They don’t say ‘I don’t ever want to see you again.’ They say ‘I forgive you! Forget you! Goodbye!’ So, for example, a song like ♫ Haemorrhage ♫ by Fuel is beautiful because it’s deep and dark and angstious, all full of symbols and hidden images, and it’s not until you watch the video that you realize it’s a song about abuse. Which, by the way, is why I don’t watch rock videos.

I sometimes wonder why I like rock music. Both my brothers enjoy it, so I suppose it could be how we were brought up. Sisi ni mabaabi, but one bro went through a ragga phase in high school, and the other has ‘eclectic taste’ that ranges from Trance to Zouk and Jannele Monnae. No, I have no idea what those are, but I find them on my computer each time he fixes something on it, so yeah.

In high school, rock was the in thing. Capital FM had just started, and liking rock was considered a PB Thing. But I soon realised that I knew all the lyrics to Capital songs before they started playing them so I suppose my love of guitars preceded FM Radio. Plus, none of my schoolmates still listen to rock. They’ve moved on to coffee house music and neo-soul. *shudder*

I still don’t know why I love rock so much. I suppose it makes me feel like the angstious teenager I never was. My brother keeps saying it’s not a sin to like other kinds of music, but I find that when I enjoy non-rock songs, there’ll be a guitar or snares or syncopated rhythms in there somewhere, whether I’m consciously aware of them or not. I do like Michael Nyman’s ♫ Piano ♫ and ♫ Nara ♫ by Posthumous, and there’s nothing remotely metal about them.

True rock-heads would call me a wuss though, because I can’t handle metal or kerrang, though I’ll admit it’s a really cool word. I don’t do mosh pits, gauntlets, black make-up, [any make-up!] Mostly I like alternative rock and Emo, which is the musical equivalent of saying that you enjoy hipster joints and indie films. *shudder* Plus, I mostly like bands from the nineties. These new guys are annoying, and they hang out with rappers way too much, as proved by the fact that Lil Wayne does guitars. *blink*blink*

What am I going on about? Nothing really. I’m just saying it’s Sunday, I have music, and I’m happy. It’s been a long time since I felt like this, and I’m totally savouring the feeling. The baby knows his ‘mummy’ is around, so he’s on his best behaviour. He’s actually been giggling all day, and he’s slept for the last five hours while I sang and typed away. I don’t envy whoever has the night shift with him … but I’m glad it won’t be me …. because you know … I have to be up really early … somebody has to put bread on the table! *insert evil grin* I am such a guy =)

Sometimes I worry about all my butch tendencies. But I don’t think I could ever be gay because, well, girls scare me. And the few boys that know me know I’m all pink inside, gutters notwithstanding. There’s one guy that turns me all mushy and feminine. When I’m around him, I’m giggly and flirty and he gets me into sundresses and everything, so I know he has a way with me. Now there’s a sentiment someone should put in a rock song. It’s just not the same when Shania does it.

I’d like to get that feeling of contentment. I’m not in a relationship, and God knows if I ever will be. But I like a boy who likes me back, though nothing could ever come of it. I have a job that’s mostly fun, though I wish I earned I whole lot more. I have a pretty, homely flat, but I wish I owned the title deed. I have perfect hair and perfect feet, but I wish that I had perfect eyes.

I want to learn to count my blessings … and to do it without thoughs and buts. Until then I’ll settle for the lovely lyrics of pre-fruit-nickname Gwen, as I Google the words and realise I’ve been singing them wrong for years! Oh well.

♫ Sorry I’m not home right now♫

♫ I’m walking into spiderwebs ♫

♫ So leave a message and I’ll call you back ♫

♫ Spiderwebs ♫ No doubt ♫