I know, I know... In my defence, its been a hectic couple of weeks, what with computer malfunctions and vanishing cloud storage. And its cold. No really, its so cold my brain can't process more than one thought at a go, and even then, the only thought being processed is that its bloody cold. Its cold. What I'm trying to say, very clumsily, is that I am most sorry for leaving you hanging in such a rude manner. Normally, I try to give you a heads up when I'm going off on one of my walkabouts, but this one was not intentional, it was simply a case of life, and Microsoft, getting in the way blogging. Forgive me? You didn't notice I was gone, did you? No you did not just shake your head... Here I am prostrate at your feet and you don't really give two shits, do you? Stop shaking your head. You buggers are no good for a girl's ego. Ah well, no one ever said I would find love on the internet. No wait, I think I said that myself, a while back, no? Issues.
Sorry, I've always wanted to ask you that, just because. Moving on swiftly...
There's a lot to talk about, bitch over, laugh at, cry over, read, listen to... I have no idea where to start. While I get into the mood, so to speak, how about I clear the clutter in my head with a bit of a loose chat, to make way for more (ahem) useful shit? Yes? Don't worry, I'm doing more than one post today, with any luck I'll manage to stick in something for everyone. Well, everyone who missed me. You didn't really think I'd let that story slide so easily, did you? I was taking roll call, my lovelies, so you know I know who didn't show up, no? Points have been deducted, is all I'm saying...
I like Sunday mornings. I know I've said this before, but I really, really like Sunday mornings. Really. I like that the world outside my window is quiet for a change, because when you live on ground floor it's almost never quiet outside, not even at 2 am when the drunk neighbours crawl home, often insisting on engaging in a very loud recap of the night's activities, but that's a story for another day. On Sunday mornings there's no traffic blaring past in a rush to get into the city, morning radio turned up loud, too loud, perhaps looking to drown out the voices in their heads wondering why they haven't shot their boss yet. The parents next door aren't screaming at their kids to get their asses moving, 'or else...', and there are no kids screaming at each other in joy, such as they do on Saturday morning, once its clicks that they don't have to go anywhere for at least two days. On Sunday the domestic supervisors (read house helps) aren't chatting noisily at the outdoor tap not so conveniently located right next to what passes for my balcony (its like 2 feet wide, and half a foot off the ground. I call it 'the terrace', makes it sound posh, no? Perhaps not...). This the one time of the week I'm up before everyone else, and because I have a malicious streak in me, about yea wide (hands far, far apart), I feel the need to wake my neighbours up with a good tune, at 8 am. What? These buggers wake me up at 5:30 every other day, its only right that I should return the favour, no? Yes, I am laughing my evil laugh.
With that in mind, I got it into my head to play you some Sunday music, and because we can never agree on anything, I'm putting up 3 songs, rock, reggae (lite) and soul. Chaguo ni lako, and if you're unhappy with my selection, feel free to stick in a link your favourite track.
Sunday morning, rain is falling,
Steal some covers, share some skin,
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable,
You twist to fit the mould that I am in...
Maroon 5 are good people. Good, good people. I've already professed love for them, so I shall not belabour the point (that's a first, no?), except to give you the slightly embarrassing tale tied to this particular track, aptly titled 'Sunday Morning'. Back in 2011 when I was online dating, this song was my pseudonym, this after having little to no success with 'Alexxx' (you can see why, no? No? Think about it, it will come to you...). I was 'sundaymorningwoman', a name I thought was very witty, until I realised no one got it. At all. See, in my delusion, I pictured tens of fellow Maroon 5 lovers, flocking to me to bond over this song. 'Ha!' I scoff. They all thought it had something to do with 'Easy' by 'The Commodores', which in turn meant that they thought I was easy, which in turn meant they thought I was just looking for a random shag. True story. The lesson to this tale? Don't bother with wit when you're dating online, it will be lost on the horny masses therein. No really, even those who claim to get it, don't, they're just trying to seduce your ass using shameless flattery, and perhaps cheap alcohol.
That may be all I need,
In darkness she is all I see,
Come and rest your bones with me,
Driving slow on Sunday morning, And I never want to leave...
The good thing about a great track, however, no amount of foolishness (mine or someone else's) can ever defile it in your memory, and thus it remains on my list of ten best ever.
And then there's the Queen, she who is disturbingly versatile. If you have never listened to her Dana Owens jazz albums, please do, she will blow you away, and then some. 'Weekend Love' is from the mid 90's I think (I was in high school when it came out), back when they started doing R&B and Reggae duets, kina 'Slow and Sexy' (the one time Shabba Ranks actually pulled off sexiness) and such like jams. This song will forever remind me of a man who was only seen on weekends, by mutual agreement. Those were good weekends...
If you've been misled
by anything I said,
Didn't mean to turn you on,
The vibe was oh so strong,
You've got things to do
and I have got things too,
So I'll catch you on the weekend,
Mondays to Fridays OUT I don't see you then...
Tell me this song hasn't got you smiling... Not even the sexy papa, Mr Rebel? Shame man!
The last track is a salaams, done in the style of 'Yours for the asking', to all my fellow geriatric geezers out here, yaani those of us who remember having all of one radio station in English. Ningependa kusema nashukuru sana penzi lake, mwambie I miss you so much, darling, don't forget me. Tafadhali mchezee karuimbo cha SOS band... I know, I'm old. But if you remember this, then so are you.
Happy Sunday, my lovelies.
Meanwhile, I'm going to try and figure out what the hell is wrong with my windows, because my house looks a bit iffy, no? Where's my bloody font, you bloody technology...