Hanging upside down

So I will not be attending the Storymoja Hay Festival. Yeah, I’m kinda lying in bed with my leg hanging up on a stirrup, and my mind sort of rearranging itself without my permission. I am sad, and angry, and I envy everyone else who will be attending the Festival.

I hope you all go and tell me all about it. Enough of marketing… Let’s go to the real reason I am hanging upside down.

I used to love Rugby. Used to. By the way, I should warn all those young women who love to hang out aroud those pheromonic muscular dudes, that rugby, boys and booze don’t generally go well with broken bottles. That is how come I had a bottle fragment in my heel.

I was not just hanging around, def not a groupie. I was in the game. That’s until that guy came along who had issues with me being such a tomboy. But I truly loved the game. So off went the guy and me stayed in the game, and single. Besides with all that testerone around me I kinda had enough.

So the guy, he called me a few days ago. He has been doing that on and off the last few months, and I’ve been finding reason after reason to keep pushing him away. When you have a debilitating illness you can be quite moronic. Notice the use of ‘you’ in distancing myself from the ‘moronic’.

I finished my kids adventure book last week. Oh yeah, it has a boy who looks quite like the on and off caller, his boat, and an auction. I know he reads, but I hope what I said yesterday puts him so off reading my blog for a while. Because I think that while you all are learning, exploring, discovering and opening up new roads in the Kenyan culture and economic world, I will be trying to push myself to an upright position.

Hmm… I just remembered a kind-eyed guy who once said to me, ‘It’s not that you are invincible, its just that you are really good at protecting yourself. Just be careful that you don’t protect yourself from love and happiness.’