As You Really Are

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People can’t help but stare when he walks down the street. It would be an understatement to say that he is easy on the eyes. But his magnetism goes beyond just a pretty face.

Within 5 minutes of meeting any woman, he charms his way into her heart.
Is it his smile? His bicuspids are white perfection.
His eyes? Chocolate heaven.
His silver tongue? He does have a way with words.
I can’t say its one thing in particular. It’s just… Him.

Ladies adore him and its not just the young’ns. I’ve seen him make women twice his age giggle like school girls. They love him. Everyone loves him. Not just women, men too. Not love, love but… you know what I mean.
He’s a man’s man… shoulder-bumping, back slapping, I-don’t-wash-my-banana (the fruit, just so we’re clear ) kinda guy ….. The real deal.

He was perfect. Or more accurately,seemed perfect. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw this near-perfect specimen of a man making a bee-line to this light-years-away-from-perfect girl. Me, in case that wasn’t obvious enough.

What did he want? Was I seating in his booth? I was sure I wasn’t because his was right across from mine. Not that I noticed that he always sat in the same booth everyday. Or that he never ordered the same thing twice from the menu. Nope. That would be stalking.  Which I do not do. Much.

Be casual. Cool and calm. Breathe. In. Out. Onions! My breath smells like onions!! Darn you, krackles! Of all the days… this is a disaster!

‘Hi,’ he flashed one of his beguiling smiles.
‘Hi’
I could see the fumes as they left my mouth.
His smile seemed strained. I knew it. I had something in my teeth, didn’t I?
I pursed my lips and attempted to give an expectant look.
He shifted his weight nervously.  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I do anything right?

I reached for my menu, needing something,  anything to keep my hands from tapping on the white-clothed table nervously. He should just walk away; save us both the embarrassment.
But when I looked up, he was still standing there.
I watched as the nervousness disappeared behind an invisible curtain. Mr. Charming had come out to play.
‘Uhm, this will sound weird but I’ve seen you here a couple of times. I just thought id come over and say hi. Hi.’
I’d seen him in action but to be on the other side of those words was everything I’d imagined it to be. Kind of. It was perfect. Too perfect.
I smiled. ‘Hi’.
I went back to looking through the menu, captivated by the beef sirloin. I caught a glimpse of his confused face.

But he still didn’t walk away. Then I noticed it. He was alone. He was never alone. There was always someone. The guys from work, an array of gorgeous women … never alone.

‘Would you like to join me for lunch?’
I was as shocked as he was as the words left my mouth.
He smiled with something akin to relief then slid across the table from me.

‘On one condition,’ I was on a roll here,’drop the act.’
He furrowed his brow.
‘The act? I’m not sure what you mean.’
He was good.
‘ The Mr. Charming gig. Drop it. Don’t flirt with me.’
He began to protest.
‘And don’t even think of denying it. I’ve noticed you too.’ I looked at him meaningfully.
‘So lets just share a table. Cool?’

A part of me kicked myself for this sudden sensitivity. I could have gone with the flow, flirting outrageously with him and maybe given him my number. But who was I kidding? He’d never call. Maybe he had noticed me but not in the ‘hey, she’s cute kind of way’ but more like ‘what kind of person eats lunch alone everyday? Wierdo’. He didn’t need a love interest, he just needed not to eat lunch alone. 

He looked surprised. But he picked up the other menu on the table.
‘Have you tried the beef sirloin?’ He asked,’ Its pretty good’.                          

Burnout

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Caring hurts. Such is the folly of the human heart. It brings such joy at first, to be vulnerable,  but with time you realize that you’ve stretched your neck across a chopping board. You’ve given someone a butcher’s knife to hold over your head, hoping they wont drop it.

Its a thrill, knowing you trust a person. But the hand gets tired. Distractions come along, and though they may not mean to do it maliciously, the knife falls.

Disbelief comes first, then anger. Anger can burn for quite a while . But staying angry takes such a toll. Eventually, you tire of the rage game and tell yourself ‘i will never….’.

Being human is such a chore. Sometimes it becomes too much too bear and its just easier not to care.
Its easier to sit in this chair and not move. It’s easier to try not to do anything to disturb the air around me. Its calm and peaceful as it is. No need to mess that up. So I’ll just sit here and be invisible. Its easier.  

Couch Potato Series: Tujuane

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Tujuane.
You either love the show or hate it. I’m sure everyone has their own thoughts, which they readily share anytime the show is brought up, but here are my two cents.

For those whose humble abode is carved out of the side of a mountain, tujuane is a Kenyan dating show which follows guys through their first date.

I watch tujuane for a number of reasons. One, it offers a glance at the structure of society. The divide between the hustler and the Barbie, the shao and the urbanite, wannabes and those who’re comfortable being themselves.    
Aaand.. the comments tweeps have on twitter are a blast. You’re better off ‘reading’ tujuane on twitter than watching it.

I’ve watched pretty much every episode of the show but I haven’t seen a ‘good’ date yet.
I get that drama gets more views but camuuun!!!! We’ve seen almost 50 dates and well, its been disheartening.
Here’s a thought to the producers; why don’t you give us at least one good date??

A date where both people can speak decent English, not the nail-on-chalkboard jargon that has us grammarnazis, writhing in pain. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Get guys with wit! We need some interesting conversation!! I’m not saying write a script, just get people who are intelligent and have a sense of humor . That’s good television, if I ever heard of any.

I agree with everyone who’s been calling out for older guys on the show, as opposed to the 20 year old young’ns. Sure, its fun to see them fumbling around, but with time, it gets sad and depressing then downright irritating.  I’m pretty sure we’re at the latter stage.
Sincerely,
Couch potato.           

Flu Season

It sneaks up on you like a flu. It starts with a sneeze, but you blame the pepper you just added to the sufuria. Then your nose gets stuffed, but its a rather cold morning so you don’t give it a second thought. But the morning you wake up with watery eyes, stuffed-as-a-turkey nose and a sneeze punctuating each minute, you know you’ve got it bad. 

When did it start?
I have no idea.

Did you know it from the start?
Hell no!!

So…. what do you like about him?
Don’t ask me that! I’m still stuck on the fact that I do.

Does he like you?
How should I know? I hope not!

Why?
What do you mean ‘why’?

Why dont you want him to like you?
Because!!

Because?
Because… its complicated.

Hmm..
Don’t give me that!

Well what do you want me to say?
Say,  ‘yeah, that’s good thinking. Its better to leave things as they are. Good catch. Now go forth and conquer the earth. ‘

….I would never say ‘go forth’.
You know what I mean.

So what are you going to do?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Except blog about it.
Shut up! If you weren’t the voice in my head I would totally walk out.

You know you love me .
Shhhh!!!