I need a hobby

Yes, something to while away my time; something to expend my excess chakra on; something to keep me occupied in a good manner; something that might, or might not need batteries; something to ensure that the foot I have recently taken to dangling out of the BTrain is safe and sound back in the train. Please pay attention. I use the term, "something"; not "someone".

I have concluded I self destruct. I like it that way, I think. What am I going on about?

Let's see, I had a most terrible weekend recently and I survived it none the worse for wear. But some of the things that happened in that weekend got me thinking (yes I do think, thank you very much!) and following internal/infernal arguments, discussions, assessments, mental discourse, wendawazimu, call it whatever you like, I have come to the conclusion that I have an inborn self destruct mechanism. That would be the only explanation for the type of jamaa I get drawn to (this be the point where you should mutter, "A dude! Figures!" and trot on to the next post).

I go for Bad Boys. And not regular Bad Boys ("Honey, I forgot it was your birthday/valentines?) but the Really Really Bad Boys with power foam ("Who are you again and where/when/how did we meet?"). The kind you introduce to your mum as the "neighbour" (why is it that mothers presume neighbours cannot be Potential Male Accessories (PMAs)?) when he emerges from the kitchen in his boxers and the sugar bowl.

But I digress. As I was saying, I have the knack to draw them in like flies too (which would make me what, poop?). Give me a nice guy who couldn't be sweeter and I don on the Pal-goggles. Chapter closed. This is who I am and because of it I will be knitting leg warmers from homegrown wool (landscaping will not be a necessity after all!) when I am 60 for my 16 kittens. Bah humbug! I realised that and I accept that. (I just haven't figured out how to break this bit of news to the Fockers et al...)

That settled, question is, why the lure of the RRBBs? Is it because of the tried, tested and failed theory of oh-I-want-to-be-the-one-to-change-them-into-settledownable-men? I sincerely do not think so. And I can say this because once they do change into settledownable I bail. Faster than you can say, "Quiiiiiick". Actually, I am never around for that part.

Which then leads me to my latest theory. I do it because I am self destructive. Think about it. With a nice guy, there is a high chance of getting sucked in, settling, getting comfy, falling in love and all that mish mash. And when it doesn't work out you need a new broom (long handle and bristles variety) to gather the shattered pieces. I will be forever tormenting myself wondering, "He was so perfect; what, when, why, where, how?" With an RRBB on the other hand, there's no room to get comfy. You know it, the RRBB knows it, the kombamwikos know it. It doesn't work out, if there's any attempt to work something out, and you move on with maisha muttering, "It figures...I knew it...It was just a matter of time". And that's what makes them attractive - I know hapa hakuna kutekwa nyara. RRBB is not going to make any effort and if that pisses me off in the short term (yes I will still get inexplicably pissed off even if the writing's tattoed on his forehead; sue me, my defense will be that I am a woman after all), in the long term I will be glad to see the last of him.

Lakini I have fikad etc with that theory. Could there be another one? At this point, I need to figure out is whether I want to change and if so, how do I go about it. You cannot force matters of the NaHu-...er...mhmmm..ahem!...the heart.

Filosofia ya Ichiena imeletwa na nini? I met Argh (And yes. I know! The disgust in AAAAaaaaaarghhhhhhh has shortened with time! Tsk tsk!). The inevitable happened just like I always knew it would and we had to breath air within 10 feet of each other for 3 hours. Oh, no mind, no drama. We (being Ichiena normal, Ichiena pissed, and Ichiena horny) were cordial, friendly, playfull even - considering the circumstances. But it took only the first hour for me to realise he still has sexy eyes, bloodshot and all, but still sexy (my RRBBs are somehow usually high achievers in their field (be it as a bank thief or as a watchman), medula finely tuned, bold (hakuna cha kufyeka compound kabla ya kufikia kichaka - they zone straight in) and invariably own shares in KBL owing to full mwenjoyos hence the bloodshot eyes). And the cutest smile. Eeeeeek! It hit me that I would not mind, nay, I was contemplating a repeat session - wtf!!! It could be that the (Ich2+Argh4)squared is really still there - ama I need to disembark this train. I kept muttering, "Heart Throb (yep, a new TDH PMA in the horizon, he after my own...), HT, HT, HT..." like a mantra. An hour longer and I would have had thumb firmly stuck in an orifice - any orifice - knees bent, and rocking. Sixty-one minutes longer and this post would have been about the repeat session. I chalk it down to the fact that all the blood in my system has taken an extended leave to Holland and it is yet to return. Oh, and it didn't matter that the new PMA epitomises RRBB even more than Argh ever will. Almost like being tempted with Tusker and mantaring, "Kumi Kumi, KK, KK, KK..."

Still, I am mightily pissed. At myself. I cannot, and should not, be getting up to DIY courtesy of Argh! Or anyone else for that matter. Hii mpaka iwe pruned here and now. Haki.

And Ichiena is always right.


Never Argue with a Woman

One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book.

Along comes a Game Warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, "Good morning, Ma'am. What are you doing?"

"Reading a book," she replies, (thinking, "Isn't that obvious?")

"You're in a Restricted Fishing Area," he informs her.

"I'm sorry, officer, but I'm not fishing. I'm reading."

"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."

"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.

"But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden.

"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."

"Have a nice day ma'am," and he left.