Things to Do In My Last Year of College

So I have decided to make a list of things to do, seeing as it were we open school next week for my last year of campus. I’ll be among the oldest guys around…regardless of age. It all depends on how long you have been around…and four years can be a long time.

So here goes:
1. Date a younger guy. Am not sure about this though..perhaps I should call back my brother’s friends who have been sending me funny-funny texts. There is also this neighbour whose brother will be joining first year in my campus and she wants him to be shown around..hmmm…

2. Get a crazy hairdo. Am actually thinking of dying my hair burgundy, now that I couldn’t find purple dye. And a tattoo while at it. Maybe I’ll put up a pic.

3. Drink keg and muratina at nguka’s. Don’t even know where that is, but it’s high time I found out.

4. Make out in the library.

5. Decide absolutely my mission in life. Change it five times.

6. Visit every corner, nook and cranny of the vast(ish) campus.

7. Seriously become active in the few clubs I have joined.

8. Climb mount Kenya with those guys who announce the activity on the notice board.

9. Travel alone outside the country…am thinking Uganda soon.

10. Do an exam while high. Ok, maybe I wont risk an exam, but a CAT in a boring but easy subject.

11. Become involved in my college town. Complete a project that will benefit the local community.

12. Fall helplessly in love, get dumped, and recover. This just sounds stupid, I know. I picked it up from the internet. But what’s college without heartbreak?

13. Climb the water tank at Studiez: this is like the highest point in campus and I rem last year a couple of finalists climbed it. I was going to join them, but I was lucky to have even made it to my bed. Don’t know how wasted one has to be to do such a silly thing.

14. Tear down the papers at the main notice board…every Friday night, some idiot tears down the notices in a drunk and disorderly way, I guess in readiness for a new week or something. Will be an idiot someday.

15. Go for bowling…maybe not. Never seen the fun in it. Perhaps I’ll just play it on the computer.

16. Skinny dip in a pool somewhere.

And the list goes on and on….

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It's My Birthday

I’m 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

I’m 22 for a moment
And he feels better than ever
And we’re on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

I’m 33 for a moment
Still the (wo)man, but you see I’m a ?they’
A kid on the way, babe
A family on my mind

I’m 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I’m heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose yourself
Within a morning star

15 I’m all right with you
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We’re moving on

I’m 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

15 there’s still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day’s a new day

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

(Five For Fighting- 100 Years)

I miss my friend

I miss my friend.

I miss the way we can communicate without words, the way we can stay in comfortable silence for long. I miss they way we can talk for hours and hours, everyday, yet not lack anything to say. What do we even talk about?

When we gossip, we call it honest talk. Or when we hate on someone’s outfit, and we wonder what people say about us.

I can be myself with you. I tell you just about anything. And you do the same…

I miss the way I can tell you to “eff off” and you call me an AH (a**hole)  and stick around much longer than you initially intended, because you realize the time am telling you to go away is when I need you most.

I miss they way we can decide to spend out last cents on ice cream! Thank God for MPESA, don’t know what we’d do if we got broke at the same time.

It’s so easy to be around you. You make yourself at home at my place and vice versa.

Am hoping to see my friend soon.

The Story of My Life

I found myself taking a trip down memory lane…so here goes.

When I was one, I used to cry a lot. So am told. I don’t remember anything from that year though.

When I was two, I have no memories either. Who does?

When I was three, and had started speaking, I used to follow my mother to nursery school where she taught.

When I was four, I started school, and loved every minute of it. I remember racing with my brother to school, or was that when I was five?

When I was five, my brothers were 3.5 and 1 year respectively. I was still in nursery school though.

When I was six, I went to class one and learned to read. I was one of those kids were proud of because in my 7th, 8th, and 9th years, I was the perfect kid who played, came home in time and was number one every end of the term.Which I did throughout primary school.

When I was 10, my breasts finally showed. It felt so weird coz that time they were er…like big pimples.

When I was 11, I went to boarding school and hated it at first.

When I was 12 and 13, no major incidents in my life. I aced KCPE and went on to high school.

When I was 14, I happily reported to high school and went on to have some of my best and worst times. First form was a good year.

When I was 17, I got suspended for not attending church, I cleared high school the same year.

When I was 18, I finally got my first kiss. I started attending church, got baptised, the whole works. I also started blogging here.

When I was 19, I reported to campus for my first year, was very focused and topped my class that year. I also drank for the first time…I remember laughing for no reason, asking myself why am giggling and then giggling further coz I had no reason….

When I was 20, you can find most of my stories here

When I was 21 (heck, am still 21), I lost my wallet and ID’s twice! Lost one phone too, finally got paid for writing, lost my virginity (I know you are waiting for the blog post!), had my first working-at-the-office experience, got into a fight where I had my face scratched (I still got the marks 😦 )

When I turn 22 next week, I wonder what lies ahead. At least I’ve now found myself. Whatever that means.

Confessions

I have a confession to make. I have been in a relationship all this time. With one of my workmates. Her name is Angel.

All this came to light on the day of the curtains. It’s hard to explain. I’ll just have to try my best.

We work in the same office, we share everything..our life stories, food, jokes, music taste, even friends. So it was no surprise really, when we realized we had to do something about it. No, we did not update our FB status to reveal that we are not in a relationship. Perhaps we should have. It would have been less embarrassing than that day.

So when we couldn’t take the tension anymore, we rummaged through the old cabinet that holds all manner of files, toners, paper etc and found some curtains. We used them to shade the office….I mean, one side of the office is just glass and people keep passing by, all the while peering into our office.

Picture this…the curtains are up, the door is locked, the lights are dimmed…we are now past the no-going-back zone, clothes have almost started flying off (a few have even landed on the other side of the building) and then someone knocks. Loudly.

“Mbona ofisi imefungwa?” Knock! Knock! “Who’s inside?” KNock! Knock!

“Na hizi curtains ni za nini?” Knock! KNock!

We were in a panic. Other guys had started gathering and it was becoming a crowd now. Others were peering through any tiny spaces between the fluttering curtains.

This is the point Angel decided to go Jack Bauer style. She swung out the other windowed side,using the curtains on that side.

Left alone….I straightened my clothes, smoothed my hair and with a thumping heart, opened the door.

I met the astonished faces of about 10 or so workers, all trying to wonder what’s going on.

“What were you doing here alone?” One of them asked.

Should I tell them the truth, I wondered? I settled for a lie.

“I was watching porn.” I said.

First Time

We’re both looking for something
That we’ve been afraid to find
It’s easier to be broken
It’s easier to hide

Looking at you,holding my breath,
For once in my life,I’m scared to death,
I’m taking a chance,letting you inside.

I’m feeling alive all over again,
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she says
For the first time
Well maybe I’m wrong,
But I’m feeling right where I belong
With you tonight
Like being in love
Can feel for the first time

The world that I see inside you
Waiting to come to life
Waking me up to dreaming
Reality in your eyes

Looking at you,
Holding my breath,
For once in my life
I’m scared to death,
I’m taking a chance,
Letting you inside.

I’m feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she said, for the first time
Maybe I’m wrong, I’m feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time

We’re crashing
Into the unknown
We’re lost in this
But it feels like home

I’m feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she said, for the first time
Maybe I’m wrong, I’m feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love can feel for the first time

Like being in love she said for the first time
Like being in love can feel for the first time

PCD- The Cure

I got quite a number of responses and questions on the possible treatment of Post Coital Depression. So I did my research.

According to the New York Times, the most successful way to treat the condition is nearly as depressing as the post-coital blues themselves.

Dr. Richard Freidman writes, “I thought that if I could somehow modulate my patients’ sexual response, make it less intense, it might blunt the negative emotional state afterward.”
In other words, Dr. Freidman decided that the best way to take his patients off their sexually induced emotional roller coaster rides was to make sex less fun.

He did this by prescribing them selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (e.g. Prozac, Zoloft, etc.) — drugs that even the mood, lift the spirits and oftentimes bring on sexual dysfunction. It might seem like a severe last resort, but as it so happens, it worked. After two weeks, Freidman’s patients reported that, “while sex was less intensely pleasurable, no emotional crash followed.”

No doubt, they, as well as their partners, are relieved to have a little less crying in the bedroom these days. We just hope that there’s still a fair amount of heat where once there raged a five-alarm fire.

Or as someone also said, “just don’t do it.”