Friday, January 30, 2015

Hitting people

You shouldn't hit people. It's a general rule. You are supposed to play nice and not stab them when you want to, because, thank God, the law states that assault is a crime and where you can potentially go (in Kenya, anyway) is a lot worse than the place you were in when you were hitting them.

Even when they deserve it.

I can't remember the last time I hit someone. I can, however remember the last time I wanted to.

I can remember the last time someone hit me.

So it's a chill sleepy Friday, and cooking is not feeling like being done, so I decide to head on over to the nearest Pizza Inn and get a pizza pie - because honestly, that's like the only thing they do right - and so I'm driving, and I indicate, and some motherfucker on a bike takes the opportunity to hit the side of my car.

Right after I've been thinking happy thoughts about what I'm going to eat, how nice it will be, how much I love SB, how sad I was when he was on his crutches, and how weird the lady at the tyre place was about whether me and Slevin are brother and sister (??!???), too.

So we stop in the middle of the highway. It was one of those ones with a thin-ass feeder lane which is why the manoeuvering was a smidge complicated. I say a tentative 'Sorry!'- facepalm, I know - and he launches into a driving lesson.

I shouldn't have said sorry, Miss Admitting Liability All Over The Damn Place. It's just that...I mean, he hit my side mirror and it moved, and that looked like it hurt a little. So I was like, woiye. Not, sorry I hit you. Duh.
Also I'm beginning to think there is something about that side of SB that likes to take out bike guys. This is the second one in under a year. The last one left a dent so huge, I still haven't replaced it.
I realize that is unrelated but it wanted to be said.

So anyway, he goes why didn't you indicate? And I'm did...kwani you think aaaaall the other cars behind me didn't see? And for once my Kiswahili did not falter (despite my A in KCSE, it has a tendency to just potea when needed. Yes, that is a standard I'm going to use. Yes, me. Yes, it was an A minus. But still an A). How do you not indicate on a highway? I'm not an idiot. I mean, there are times I choose to drive badly, granted. Like when I go way over the speed limit on my way to the airport. Or when it is midnight - because who drives at 50 km/h at midnight unless you desire robbery and sorrow? But this was not one of those times. I'm not a bad driver!

It turns into a thiiiiing (well not a thiiiiing. More like a thiiing). He keeps talking about how bikes don't have emergency brakes (like it's my problem) and how we should wait for the cops. At this point I'm getting annoyed like...motherfucker. You're holding up traffic, AND I indicated. IF YOU WANNA START SOMETHING LET'S START SOMETHING! He's all oooooh, sasa mtasema watu wa pikipiki ni wabaya (which, oh look, I am on this blog) and I'm like - nimesema nyinyi ni wabaya? Nimesema hivyo? And he's all, sasa ka ungeniumiza vibaya, and I'm all, nimekuumiza? Kwani unadhani naendesha gari ili nikuumize? and people driving by are all, throwing out unhelpful advice because Kenyans just feel the need to commentate on bloody EVERYTHING (#KOT) and be like, si ni kitu kidogo tu? Si msonge mjadiliane? (they didn't say mjadiliane. I was blocking them out. Because...yeah. And if I songa, how will the cops know HE was the shit endesharer?) Eventually, dude is like sawa lakini umefanya vibaya sana, and I'm like, um, I INDICATED, BYE FELICIA.
*drives into Pizza Inn*
*they don't have mushrooms*
*flips table*

Guys after all that they didn't have the pizza pie I wanted!...but at least they had pizza pies, which is progress, because I've gone to Pizza Inns where they're like, oh, we're out of dough.
But they're selling pizza.
So it's like...ok.
Ati it's a different dough.

So after I get my pie and force a girl I used to go to school with to buy my book out of guilt because I am those authors now who are like 'Omg I haven't seen you in so long! You know I have a book now? No? You don't? Where have you been? Under a rock? Ah, that explains it. It's a good thing you met me today! Here, it's 600 bob kthnxnbye', I get in my car and think of the repercussions of that slight battery SB went through...what if this pikipiki guy has connections in high places? Or places that are further along from where I am, ie the roundabout, ie the coppers...what if one of them is his cousin once removed and he drives down to this guy and is like waaaaah, waiiiil, this chick in a K** just hit me, she's such a bitch, going to Pizza Inn after hitting me, let's take down the bourgeois man - or woman, waah waaaah waaaaaah, and they guy is like, oh my gosh cousin, I will support your cause and be on your side because Mafia-like family attachments, then they high five their super secret handshake though not so secret because they're on the highway so I mean really they should like get a special like nod or something because which secret society even does handshakes anymore, and then they sit there waiting for me to drive by in all my innocent hungry glory and stop me and it COI'AINS for me...

And a cop came out at the roundabout, by the way. Thank God my imagination is just that, because I could have sworn he looked at me funny and not just my insurance sticker.
Oh gosh maybe they're putting me and my tender kneecaps on surveillance!
You know what guys, if this is goodbye...thanks for reading.
Also, buy my book and keep my legacy alive, yes?


p.s. The chicken and mushroom pizza pie, IMHO, is the only one really worth it, to be honest.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The weatherman

She said:
You're not supposed to break up with people on a sunny day. There's a cardinal law about it, you know. If you must break up with someone, it should be raining, or at least look like it's going to. You know the type of sky – cloudy. Slate-grey, like you can sketch a chalk drawing across it. Ponderous clouds lugging their weight about, lording it over the earth like HA! I win again...

It was brilliantly sunny. A brilliant summery day. It was close to perfect. All we needed was to win the lottery and life could have ended there and then, complete, fulfilled.

We were having a picnic. It was the type of picnic with no indication that something was going to happen during it – you know how everyone says there is supposed – again, that word, supposed – to be, like, a feeling...some sort of intuition that screams at you that SOMETHING is coming. Something was coming. And it may have been something wicked, depending on what side of the coming you were seeing.

No signs, no omens (because, no clouds). He handed me a slice of cheese. I'm those people who eat cheese for fun, you know? The flat, sliced, melts on everything type with the cow drawn on the cover, smiling, as if you're not about to eat something that came from its insides? And maybe the cow won the lottery itself, the lottery of being picked from its cheese? I mean, what is wrong with advertisers? Drain a cow and then make it your poster child for your product. Kill a berry and its entire family, then resurrect it, smiling, on a billboard, larger than life.

I was eating the cheese, and I looked at him, and he smiled, and that was when I knew that it was over.

So I blocked out the sun.


Saturday, January 17, 2015

Doughy delights

Window shopping should be classified under a form of lust. Because that is what it is, no? It's just walking by glass windows, coveting mightily, all the things your salary won't let you afford.

I am bad at cooking flat things. This includes chapatis (whose disastrous encounters you can read here), pancakes, omelettes...I just can't get the hang of the flip. Preparation I have down. Just not the execution to the end.

To make said yummy omelette, I went to Tuskys. The reason the Tuskys at T Mall wins is because it has no costs for parking, as well as a variety of restaurants and a nice club (with fantastic fries. Is there anything better than Psys fries at the rave? Or after it?).

But what really wins is Tuskys bread.
The good Lord above deemed it fit to declare that in the midst of the blackness that is this world, in the quagmire of confusion that is (driving) in Nairobi...across the vast desert of singlehood and mid-20s poverty, a blessing, a shining light, a DANIEL! in the blistering heat, is Tuskys loaf.
Nothing compares to this doughy delight. Always fresh. Like the perfect boyfriend - never lets you down, doesn't talk back, warm and tender, pliant...holds you when you want to be held, stuffs you when you want to be stuffed...hehe.

ANYhue. The point is. The omelette was forgotten. Every loaf at Tuskys is a chunk of heaven. Don't even get me started on their vanilla muffins. O_______O #foodComa

May I one day be worthy to create something so perfect with these two hands, and may I be able to handle the honour.


Friday, January 16, 2015

Series: Man Seeking Woman

With Jay Baruchel, Eric André, Britt Lower, Vanessa Bayer.

Don't like this series.
It is showing on FFX or something. I don't even...

Anyway. I don't usually like stuff that Jay Baruchel is in (This is the End was one of the worst movies I watched last year. Ugh. The beginning and the end - ha - were good but eeeeeeeverything in the middle was just unnecessary. Rihanna, what kind of horrific career choice was that???) (you too, Kevin Hart) (you too, EVERYONE in that movie) so I should have known that this would be no exception. Based on a book, the series is about a guy who gets dumped by his girlfriend and then can't move on but has to, the usual.

In sickly slapstick fashion, the acting is ok, but the stunts and theatrics go over the top, venturing into the fantastical (there's a troll in the first episode. Trust me, that's not a spoiler.) and inane.

Ok I'm clearly biased, but if you like that kind of stuff (you and Rotten Tomatoes, apparently), go right ahead. I'm bored. Might watch the second one to give it a chance, seeing as I hated Silicon Valley when it started but it improved significantly by the 8th episode. Where IS Silicon Valley, actually?


Thursday, January 15, 2015

Film: The Imitation Game

(there's a GOT S4 spoiler at the end of this, so if you haven't watched it, stop after the first 7)
starring the man wit the biggest voice for the smallest frame, Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley, who, it would seem, is finally growing up. And putting on weight. All win!

Now, just a quick ode to Mr Benedict. He's so cute in an I'm a child way and then his I'm a white Morgan Freeman voice - to die for! It makes you wonder about your paedophilic tendencies if you think he's cute (no, seriously. The guy looks 12) But Star Trek Into Darkness changed my life and he was simply beautiful in it and I approve of ALL his acting choices (in the hope that he won't pull a last few Denzel movies, man. I did like The Equalizer, though) and interviews on the Graham Norton show (please, please, please look for the one he did where he does the Beyonce walk, and his celebrity impressions, tagged in a previous review post. Such good acting. Such a cool guy. I luuuuuuuuuuu you papi! Ati one of the names for his army is Cumberbitches. pwaahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha *rolls over dead*)

(Another quick ode to Martin Freeman. Loved him in The Hobbit. And thus JUST started watching Sherlock because of him and Bennie)

And Keira! Good job! Hated you in Pirates and now here you are with an Oscar nomination. Such growth. Such weight. So proud.

So The Imitation Game is based on the true story of math genius Professor Alan Turing, who is credited for having come up with the basic layout of modern day computers and all that sciencey stuff. He was hired by the English Government to interpret a code called Enigma that the Germans were using to pass on all their information on who they were bombing etc in the Second World War with a team of cryptographers.

This is their story.
(that line was purely for dramatic effect. Can you tell? hehehe)

...the story of how they cracked the code, Turing's life, how the War ended (though we all know how it ended, but why it ended, and how marvelous his contribution to it was).

This is a good movie. It has an Oscar nod, even, for many things (still shocked at Keira, honestly. ANYhue). Benedict is in prime form. And you know who else is in this? Chap from Downton Abbey whose name I don't know in real life...the guy who was the Scottish (?) last born's hubby. He was good too. AND Tywin Lannister! Who may be destined to play the very same scary character till someone else kills him, haha)

Up next, Man Seeking Woman.


Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Book: Do you remember the first time? by Jenny Colgan

I saw this book in the street and I simply could not resist buying it for a highly competitive pricing of 50 shillings. I used to read Jenny Colgan in my childhood, and it was like a blast from a romanticized hormone filled past.

I don't know if Miz Colgan writes anymore, but this is one of her older contributions to the chick lit world. IMHO, everyone needs a little dose of chicklit every so often, but it doesn't mean you have to pick bad chicklit. For those hot and heavy imaginations, old school Amanda Quick or new school Johanna Lindsey will do (because everyone knows the plot after like the 3rd Judith McNaught. Not to knock her or anything - her career has definitely not been for...naught. :D) For light hearted Bridget Jones variety time, Colgan does just fine.

Do you remember the first time? is about Flora Scurrison, who has a life she thought she wanted - a nice boyfriend (well, nice enough), a good though harrowing job, enough money for expensive face creams and dinners - she has it all. More or less. This is how she and her best friend Tashy kind of planned to be living at the ripe old age of 32. Then at Tashy's wedding (which she suspects Tashy didn't want to get into in the first place), she makes a wish and this wish literally changes her entire life, giving her a chance to make decisions to leave her complacency and live the life she's always wanted to...or not. What does she decide? The plot ever thickens.

There's a good dose of humour - just how I like it. A lot of what Colgan says is exactly what I think about a lot of things, and what happens after the wish makes you reflect quite a bit on whether or not you should be making the decisions you make. I mean if you only have one life to live, and you don't know when you're going to die...then why not live the life you want, amirite?

An amusing read that I did not mind going back in time for.

Which was fine, of course. Lots of people did it. In fact, at the moment, it seemed a hundred percent of everyone was doing it. I glanced at Olly. I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that he might be thinking it was about time that he, too, just did it. Just little things. Like he took over my bill paying because it would make it more convenient. (It did, too; for an accountant I'm shocking with my money, like all those dipso doctors telling you to cut down on the booze. I always leave it till somebody's threatening to come round and total my kneecaps.) Or, maybe we should get a kitten? (If I wanted a small malevolent creature crawling round my kitchen demanding food I'd have a baby, thank you.)

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Film: Whiplash

So clearly this is review month.

Maybe there's nothing going on in my life. Or maybe I just have a lot of time on my hands now that SB doesn't have a tyre and for that reason, I can't seem to feel inspired to leave the house.

Whiplash, the movie I was watching at midnight, is about a guy who goes to a prestigious music school and finds a slightly psychotic teacher who he is dying to be validated by. Drums are his tool, and that chap is his poison.

This movie was pretty good. It's gotten a couple of Oscar nods and awards already, and made quite a lot more than what it cost to make. I IS a good movie. Great? I don't know. The shooting is interesting - the cinematography reminds me of a cross between Locke and Black Swan. It has a weird yellow kind of thriller movie-hued shooting - or maybe I was watching a camera copy? There are also a lot of artistically fulfilling shots - cuts for intensity's effect, I suppose - between characters and drums, characters and other characters, etc. It's visually satisfying, in a more 'What-shot-did-he-choose' way as opposed to a 'That's-such-a-pretty landscape' way. And the music - my weakness - is good! Jazz! And all that...jazz. :D

The whole movie is very Black Swan-esque - a student who wants it all and wants to be it all and thinks of nothing else all the time, and a teacher whose madness only serves to fuel his own. The student is played by Miles Teller, who is making better and better choices in his career (you know him from the bad guy in Divergent and in The Spectacular Now, which I don't know him from because I haven't seen it, but give me time). He puts on a great and mostly believable performance. I didn't understand the brief depiction of his teenage angst because he hadn't come across as angsty the entire movie, but family does bring out the worst in you, lol, so I guess that's valid.

J. K. Simmons plays the mad teacher well, which was interesting for me (he's the one getting the Oscar nods) because the last two things I saw him in were Men Women and Children (very good, but playing a normal dad character) and Growing Up Fisher, one of my favourite shows from last year, in which he plays a dad character with a twist - the fact that he is blind. Very candy flossy warm fuzzy feelings inside but also very funny. So this was interesting for me. He did it well.

Critics are saying that the movie is dependent on these two stellar performances, and it is worth it because of them. It is. Go see it.