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Lifestyle

Why Modern Dating Makes Me Want To Punch Myself In The Throat

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As a 22-year-old single woman I’m pretty much living in the thickest part of the modern hookup culture – perfecting the art of getting the right guy to buy you a drink at a bar, crafting the perfect response to a text to make you seem just interested enough, taking the proper five seconds to adequately judge a person and determine whether or not to swipe left or right on Tinder. That’s the world I live in now and I have to confess: I hate it with every fiber of my being.

Maybe it’s because I let insignificant events ruminate in my mind far past their welcome. Or maybe it’s because I react too sensitively to the people with whom I share the world. Or maybe the modern dating scene is just horrendously fucked up. It’s probably all three, but in the interest of, well, maintaining your interest, let’s just talk about that third observation.

While I was in a relationship, I heard people complain about the single life all of the time. Stories from my friends, articles on the Internet, anything popular on television, it’s everywhere. But it wasn’t until I began to experience it for myself that I truly understood what everyone was complaining about. Everything is so damn complicated. Nobody asks you out on a date; they just ask you to hang out – so after you do, you can spend the next three days that you’re supposed to be ignoring them wondering exactly what it meant. Did you see a movie? Go to dinner? Have sex in your car? Fly to Paris and get drunk under the Eiffel Tower? Be careful; you guys were just hanging out. It was just casual, right? I don’t know, I wonder what he’s thinking. What did our car sex mean to him? I have a simple solution for those of you who struggle with these haunting questions: ask the other person. Oh wait, you can’t. Hahaha. And here’s why.

We live in a world where people are afraid to feel anything genuine, or at the very least, are afraid to show it. When someone is angry with you, there’s no phone call asking to talk about it. Instead you get a passive aggressive response to a text message or a suspiciously relevant subtweet, quietly calling you out in 140 characters or less. If you like someone, you don’t tell them how you feel; rather you act interested enough for them to pick up on it, but not enough to freak them out. Don’t like it? Too bad. It’s all a big game and if you don’t play by the rules then you lose, and if you lose you end up alone and drowning in a pile of your own insecurity, wondering what you did wrong.

Don’t ask to hangout two nights in a row. If you texted first last time, you have to wait for him to text you first this time. Don’t double text. You can’t assume anything is more than casual, even if you’re having sex. But you can’t talk about it either. If you’re wondering where a relationship is going and you decide to bring it up, every word you say has to be carefully chosen so as to seem okay with any response you’re given, even if you’re not. Everything is done through texting. It’s weird to call someone in the modern world just to have a conversation or try to make plans, so we’re forced to wait anxiously for a response that might not ever come.

Everything is calculated to appear thoughtless, and it is one of the most exhausting games I’ve ever had to play. I could earn my masters degree with the amount of time and energy it takes to determine whether or not my casual hookup actually has feelings for me.

If I like someone, I want to hang out with him. It’s as simple as that. Or at least it should be. But in the dating culture to which we are enslaved, it has to be more convoluted than that. If I talk to him too much, I’m needy. If I’m always free when he asks me to hangout, I’m clingy and have no life of my own. If he takes three hours to respond to my text, and my phone is in my hand when I get his reply, I have to wait to answer so I don’t seem too eager. And I am constantly wondering why I play these stupid games.

Why can’t I call someone because I like talking to him? Why does showing I care make me needy? If I act angry when a guy blows me off, I’m just a crazy bitch, so my only other option is to complain to my friends and wade in anxiety until he finally texts me back. And let me tell you something; I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want anyone to have that power over me. No one should have that kind of power over anyone. I am so tired of living in a world where apathy is more effective in getting someone’s attention than honesty. I’m tired of the manipulative games that men and women play with one another in an effort to maintain control in a relationship that we’re not allowed to define.

So here’s my idea: let’s all stop being little fucks. Respect other people enough to tell them the truth. If someone makes you happy, tell them. If someone inspires you, tell them. If you’re not interested in someone, please just fucking tell them. Don’t ignore people until they disappear. It’s time we grow up and stop leaving people hanging with unanswered texts and cryptic social media posts. Everyone is human and we’re all just trying to understand one another in this messy dating world, so stop treating a relationship of any kind like it’s a challenge to complete. Be honest with other people about how you feel, and don’t get so lost in playing the game that you forget to extend that same courtesy to yourself.

Via Thought Catalog

Lifestyle

Guinness Set to Bring Rio Ferdinand to Kenya

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The nation’s most extraordinary beer, Guinness, has today unveiled an exciting new partnership with legendary English Premier League football legend, Rio Ferdinand. Best known for his time playing for The Red Devils, Ferdinand will be working with Guinness over the next 12 months to find and celebrate Kenyan football fans Made of More. (more…)

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Lifestyle

I Am A Middle Class Kenyan, Isn’t it?

I am the one whose vote counts the most and will affect the most and yet I am the one who is the most tribal.

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I am a middle class Kenyan. Juggling my way through life…

Don’t own my home, don’t have what could be considered a salary (mine is still considered wages).

I semi own a car with the bank (although if I test our relationship by missing a payment I will discover I dont semi own anything).

Every end month I become a juggler. All my balls up in the air… Mshwari is paid and withdrawn to pay KCB Mpesa, then this is replicated with Tala and Branch waiting in tow before any bills are paid.If any ball in this process is to drop….CRB will get my name faster than it takes to finish writing this.

My Mpesa handles huge amounts of money, but they’r always flowing in and out immediately. It’s a better ledger than my bank account. On its strength alone I look like a millionaire and I’m obsessed with seeing those figures on my M ledger because it makes me think I’m growing financially. My Facebook and IG pictures tell better stories of my life. In there I’m smiling, laughing, travelling without a penny to my name and sleeping in big hotels whose costs are higher than my nightly per diem.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

My phone is riddled with numbers of big shots, whenever I call and they actually answer my day is made, people constantly ask me for so and so’s number. I am rich in my networks but my worth in who I have come in contact with does not translate to assets. Every once in a while it results in a ka deal who’s proceeds are used to boost my KPLC power token, extend my milk account with Kinyanjui, take my kids for a picnic at Machakos or blown to smithereens in a single night on the town buying drinks for friends who have all manner of malicious gossip about me and who wouldn’t lift a finger to save me from my troubles.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

I feel like I’m two contacts away from a breakthrough in my life, and yet I know with trepidation that I am only one mishap away from a disaster in my life.

If I have a medical emergency the size of the late Janet Kanini’s (God rest her soul) I’d be done overnight.

If I’m caught drunk driving and have to pay a 50K fine one of my balls will drop and I’m done.

If my house rent is raised by a paltry 10K it would upset the balance of things and I’d have to move.

If I have an accident with my semi owned Toyota Succeed (ITS NOT A PROBOX) with its tu third party insurance and the liability is mine I’m cooked.

And let’s not talk about what would happen if I lost my job…I’m superstitious… so “tuteme hio mate”.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

My phone is more expensive than my child’s school fees structure for a term. My telly is connected to DSTV which I hardly ever have time to see and I always meet people at Laico where black coffee is 500 bob so that I can keep up appearances and get that 2 step connection to glory.

My shoes are knock off’s bought from hawkers whose deals are quick at dusk and my clothes are mitumba’s, but I look good because I have a guy who gets me “zile za camera”.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

I am the one whose vote counts the most and will affect the most and yet I am the one who is the most tribal.

I am the one still voting for a presidential candidate because he is my tribesman and attacking and insulting strangers on facebook using bundles I have “flexxed’ while seriously psyching myself that the bets I placed jana will pay off and make me an overnight multi millionaire.

Some of the people I’m trolling,make more money and have more clout than me but it feels good to cut them to size on social media.

If their lives hit an iceberg, they’d have lifeboats but If mine did I’d be found below the ocean floor.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

I have never bothered to find out what tribe the guy driving the mathree is on the days I have no fuel to drive. I just board and yet my life is in his hands.

I even relax and dose off or enjoy the Wi-Fi as I’m sped off to places unknown because I cannot see the front and if I was to unceremoniously land an impromptu appointment with my maker all the balls would drop and I would be leaving nothing but bills……

I have never found out if the butcher I buy meat from is from my village or if the doctor who treated my child was “ours”…..Even Kinyanjui my milk guy isn’t really Kinyanjui but Wepukhulu but I don’t even know or care.

I am a middle class Kenyan.

But the President? Hio ni tofauti. That one must be “mine”.

I am now hiding under the banner “Tribeless Kenyan” on Facebook because it’s politically correct to do so and it will get me many likes (because I am addicted to those). ……and anyone who doesn’t like my post is NOT my friend.

I am an idiot who’s juggling won’t stop no matter how things go on August 8th.

Come August 9th regardless of the outcome….

I’ll still have one ball in the air!

I am a middle class Kenyan 🙂

— Courtesy: This post first appeared on Facebook via Levi Kones.

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Lifestyle

Europeans Have Just Discovered Miswak, and Are Selling the “Revolutionary” Toothbrush For £3.90

The revolutionary “Raw Toothbrush” with health benefits.

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The West has often borrowed a lot of trends in health and food, right from ghee, haldi doodh, and even dandiya workouts. And now, they have just discovered Miswak! 

Fizkes / Getty Images

 A Czech company named Yoni recently posted a video about a “revolutionary” new product called the Raw Toothbrush, full of ~ minerals and vitamins ~.

However, like most revolutionary ideas people have had of late, this idea too comes from a tradition many across the world, especially Indians and or Africans, have stuck to for thousands of years — a miswak twig.

Only used twigs have been miswak and neem, and they cost much less than £3.90.

Of course, people immediately started calling them out for waking up a few thousand years late to the benefits of using the “Raw Toothbrush”.

Via Buzzfeed
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