Birthday Time!

Happy 26th Birthday to ME!!
(Yes, I said 26. And you can't prove otherwise! Nyeh!)

Knitting and Reading

The final stop on our cross-continental journey was Portland, Oregon for a conference of nerds where Hubby was speaking. The best part of these conferences is the opportunity to catch up with old friends and make new ones. Plus, Portland is a great city for exploring and drinking and we did plenty of both.

One of our first pre-conference stops was the Doc Martin store where Hubby walked away with a great pair of boots. I, on the other hand, discovered that every single pair of size eights was out of stock. Every single one! Not that I’m still bitter about it or anything…

The other great Portland Mecca for me, at least, was Powell’s bookstore – a large independent bookstore with new, used, and even out of print books. I could be graphic about how amazingly orgasmic this store is but I realize that my mother reads this blog so I won’t go there. But it really is amazing!

The huge store calls itself “The City of Books” for a reason – there is no way you could leave this multi-level store without finding at least a dozen books that you can’t live without. Wandering its halls, I looked at the clock to discover that I had spent two and a half hours in the store without even realizing it. Due to Hubby’s strict (and miserly) rules, I left Powell’s with only six books. But I know that I’ll be back the next time we’re in Portland.

Our final great find in Portland was happy hour. On Sunday, we went to a bar called City Lights where we enjoyed tapas for between $2 to $3 per plate. The drinks were regular price but you didn’t notice because the snacks were such great deals. When we left the bar, no one had spent more than $15 or $20 total for food and drink, and no one left hungry or sober.

Unfortunately, we had one downturn during the trip. Although I was able to attend all of Hubby’s talks and presentations (which were surprisingly interesting), I was feeling slightly under the weather and missed out on several nights out. Hubby got to experience far more of the famous bar scene than I did because of this, but I did, at least, get to catch up on my knitting!

One final note about Portland: there are a lot of beggars and street people in this Hippie town. But worse than that: there are do gooders! Rare was the corner in downtown Portland where someone did not accost us from Save the Children or Greenpeace asking us for our time, money, and attention. Hubby had a nice conversation with a Save the Children person who also wanted to be a Cow Counter when she grew up. I simply avoided them by trying to impersonate a Republican. When that didn’t work with the Greenpeacers, I told them how many flights I was taking during my month and a half trip home, and how big my Environmental Footprint was. That always scared them off.

Portland was the end our journey. When we left that town, we only had a few days left in the Real World. A Real World we had never been so excited to leave behind for the Developing one. We were ready to go home.

We just didn’t yet realize what a comedy of errors that was going to be.

California Dreaming

Monday morning, we left Vegas for various points in California. We were both looking forward to this phase of the trip; driving for hours has been one of those weird activities we miss most in Kenya. When else is a girl supposed to get a few hours of sleep and still have it count as spending time with sweetie and doing something he enjoys?! The best part was that we would able to indulge in one of my favourite things to do in a car: listen to Jim Rome and various other sports news programs. What did you think I was going to say?

After checking out of the Venetian we headed back to the airport to pick up the car Hubby booked. The Las Vegas airport has a really cool rental car “terminal” that makes renting a car an organized and stress-free experience. Driving to California on the 15 is also a relaxing experience – especially when you have a sausage and cheese McMuffin (no egg!) in your hand. Oh, and when you’re not the one driving and can nap most of the way there.

Our first Cali-stop was in Chino to visit K-Fu, the little Fus, and his wife Fu-ette. (Hubby Edit: K-Fu lives in Chino Hills, not Chino! I keep telling Typ0 this but she insists on taking “literary license.”) I was tres hyped to see K-Fu whom we hadn’t seen in several years. To put it into perspective for you, the last time we’d seen the Fus, there was only one little Fu and the second wasn’t even in the planning stages.

Villa del Fu was really nice. Hubby enjoyed the small basketball court while I ogled the huge jungle gym on the other side of the large backyard. K-Fu seemed to be enjoying his life near the former home of Ryan (from the OC). Our first night there, we did some shopping and then went out for great Italian food - so you know I enjoyed myself!

The remainder of our Cali-expereience was really laid back. We checked into an ocean-side hotel in San Clemente just south of Newport (Ryan’s new home!). Hubby and I ordered pizza and ate in bed while drinking champagne. We were finally enjoying the type of relaxing day we had been dreaming of when we told people we were on “vacation.”

I’ve already mentioned that we went to Hubby’s former stomping grounds of San Diego. Our “Chilling out in ‘Diego” day was spent the day driving around looking at the people from Comic Con in their cool costumes (that Hubby mocked), seeing Hubby’s old high school (with still higher fences surrounding it), and driving by his old house on our way to Lolita’s for some yummy rolled tacos.

My apologies that today’s blog is reading like a laundry list of “Things Typ0 did in California.” But this was such a nice and relaxing portion of our trip - driving around aimlessly, catching a vine with Rome, seeing old friends, not rushing for a flight, a date, or even having expectations to live up to. Just being us – in the best sense of the word.

Harry Potter and the Midnight Release

I hope that by now you have all read, enjoyed, and dissected “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” For those of you who think that you are too old, too good, or above reading a book designed to appeal to children and teens, I have this to say – Get over yourself!

One of our latest nights out in Las Vegas was spent waiting in line to purchase the new Potter book. And I wasn’t alone – there were hundreds of people in the Fashion Mall that evening waiting for the same thing. This was my third midnight release party and I wasn’t going to miss out on a single minute!

The Borders that hosted Potter Night started with a showing of the fourth movie, “Goblet of Fire.” (Hubby and I had seen and somewhat enjoyed “Order of the Phoenix" the previous week with SIL back in Illinois.) As the movie wound down, you started to see people edging toward what they hoped would be a line for books. Some people watched the Borders employees so carefully that people not realizing what was going on might have thought they were double agents and we were back in the Cold War era. “She has a microphone. Follow her!” “The tall one is moving toward the escalator. I repeat toward the escalator!” There were even news crews there to observe the melee.

When the movie *finally* ended, we all eagerly looked around for someone in charge to tell us all what to do. Unfortunately, the girl with the microphone was not terribly charismatic and didn’t get her point across very well. All I could hear was, “Concentrate on the room of requirement,” which I thought was really weird and vague. I left Hubby lounging on a comfy looking chair while I sprinted to where I hoped a line would form. Then I noticed the floor beneath the movie screen rising up.

The room of requirement had arrived.

I really wish I had thought to bring my camera that night as Borders did a *great* job of putting this display together. Uncharismatic girl aside, watching the room rise out of the recesses of the Fashion Mall was very cool.

What was less cool was the incredibly poorly organized “line” to purchase your book. First of all, everyone received the same colour bracelet so any attempt at staggering the purchasers was completely lost. There was also a lot of pushing and shoving – I, of course, did not take part in any of that. Mostly…

Hubby and I got back to our hotel room shortly after 1 a.m. from the “midnight” release party. After reading the epilogue to verify who had died, I actually went to bed fairly early that night and dreamed about Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron and the adventures they were having in that orange book on my night stand.

Finally, the book was fairly good – not great, but a wonderful few hours of reading. I won’t ruin the ending but will say that the death that affected me the most was Dobby’s. *sniff* That little guy died for something and someone he believed in – he was valiant when a lot of people in the wizarding world were acting like cowards. I enjoyed the fact that a lot of clues that started all the way back with book one were neatly tied up – or knotted up into some sort of Gordian knot that no one other than JK Rowling will ever fully comprehend.

So now we’re done with Harry Potter and all that we have left are fanfics and dissections of what came before. I’ll miss Harry but I look forward to giving these books (new copies, not mine) to other children who can discover the wonderfully magical world of Harry and his friends.

The Sound of “Bobble Head"

Let me start by saying that Hubby and I had a really enjoyable home leave. Let me also say that it was exhausting. From the time we arrived to the moment we returned to Nairobi, we took 17 flights, slept overnight in at least ten cities and three countries, and basically didn’t stop moving the entire time. That’s why we enjoyed our “us” portion of the trip so much!

Our “us” trip included three days in Las Vegas and five driving around Southern California. What made this part of the trip so lovely is that we did what we wanted when we wanted to: there was no schedule to keep. Well, almost no schedule…

After much researching, I decided that we would be staying at the Venetian. This seemed like a good idea as the rooms looked large, it was within walking distance to the bookstore, Mario’s B&B was located there, and we had already stayed at the Bellagio which was considered the other “best hotel” in town. For the same money, the Bellagio is a much better hotel with nicer rooms, better amenities, and far better service. Bellagio is also more centrally located on the Strip – a fact that we would be reminded of frequently when wandering the steamy, 40+ºC streets. I’m pretty sure that hell feels a lot like Vegas in July.

The deficiencies of the Venetian aside, we did win a bit of money there – even if it was by mistake. Allow me to elaborate. Our game is roulette as it is entirely all chance and there are few skills needed in order to win money. Put your chips on the number, on the half number, on the four corners, or you can pick a colour… Well, you get the idea. Hubby and I have a system that usually keeps us in the black (unless I’m trying to cheer him up) and means that we still have lots of fun.

One of the more interesting aspects of sitting at any table in Vegas is watching people bet. “One hundred on red,” only to watch the wheel hit 00. Hubby and I would be in tears, but these people just keep on betting like chips grew on trees. Our first rule is that we only go to $5 tables, which means that we get $1 chips and can play a minimum of five chips at a time. This let’s us maximize our fun, time at the table, and our money.

Back to the Venetian… After having won quite a bit of money across the street at Treasure Island (or TI as it likes to be called), I insisted that we tempt the gods and play one last table. Unfortunately, at a place like the Venetian, $5 tables are not exactly easy to come by. We finally found an electronic game of roulette where there is a real person in the middle of a circle of computerized betting seats. It wasn’t our cup of tea but we waited patiently for our turn.

Our first game we pressed the screen to indicate where we wanted to put our chips and discovered that the touch screens were VERY sensitive. Luckily, we managed to move our chips where we wanted them before the “No more bets” voice came over the speaker. We lost that round. The next round Hubby decided to get in on the game and started to press the screen seemingly at random. He had accidentally put money on number 14 rather than the corner and our time to move the chip was running out. He tried desperately to move the chip to the side and ended up playing a second chip instead. “No more bets.”

I chastised him for putting money on 14 in the first place as it had already come up two numbers prior. Then the wheel stopped and I strained to see where the little silver ball had fallen. I looked up at the screen displaying the winning numbers. Hubby had won – it was 14. We left the table that instant with $71 dollars in chips in our hands. I still have one of the $1 chips in my purse for luck – and to remind myself that sometimes accidents happen for a reason.

This installment of the blog is becoming rather lengthy and I still haven’t talked about Harry Potter and the room of requirement, K-Fu and California, or reliving Ryan’s odyssey in the OC. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll start to share those stories. In the meantime, I’ll fill you in on the photo at the top of the page – Hubby is standing next to Sponge Bob. And was sober. ‘Nuff said.

PS. I almost forgot to explain today’s title/Zen Koan. Hubby believes that the sound which exists even in your dreams after a few days in Las Vegas is what bobble heading would sound like. Close your eyes and listen to the sound of hundreds of slot machines singing, ringing, and winning. Now picture someone bobbling their head. It may not be the sound of one hand clapping, which a taxi driver did describe to great hilarity, but it isn’t bad.

I Was Thirsty

Today’s blog is more of a photographic tour of our trip home than a long explanation of what i did. A picture, after all, is worth a thousand words... So I thought that I’d share a few of our favourite photos from those weeks back the Real World – the ones we took of our alcoholic beverages. I should note that these pictures in no way reflect the actual and total amount of alcohol we consumed, but it should give you a good solid idea of our constant state of inebriation.


Sometimes Hubby and I each had a pint of cider (for me) or beer. This photo was taken during our pub-crawl with SGH.


Strongbow is usually better on tap but I’m more than willing to drink it this way too. As a waitress in the States once told me, I’m a “bottle baby!” This photo was taken during a pub-crawl we took with the Illinois boys.


More bottles of Strongbow. As many of you know, I enjoy taking the labels of my bottles to use as “tickets.” Three that night in Toronto!


Woman cannot live by cider alone.


I enjoy ordering all the martinis on the menu!


The giant margaritas in Las Vegas were amazing! This one was about a foot tall and had no less than four (maybe even five) shots of tequila. Needless to say, I was wasted long before I reached the halfway mark!


Let this be a lesson to you: too many drinks can only lead you to become a bus driver. And that’s never a good thing!

Time to Eat

Shockingly, I spent most of Home Leave eating. And since I don’t believe in discriminating, I ate everything in sight! No burger, piece of sushi, or salad was safe from my Real World cravings. I also didn’t believe in eating on a budget so we hit everywhere from Harvey’s and Qdoba to Mario Batali’s new restaurant and even the Olive Garden!

Whilst in Toronto, we celebrated my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary and my brother BBS’s zillionth birthday. Sadly, he wasn’t there to celebrate with us but we still drank in his honour because, as you know, we need excuses like that to drink in my family. The location of the festivities was a Yorkville restaurant called Pangaea.

The venue’s name was amusing if only because just days before we made the reservations, I had been explaining my favourite “continental drift puzzle game” to my family over dinner. Yes, I’m a geek but that doesn’t make the game any less fun!

Although our next big meal didn’t include caribou (which Hubby greatly enjoyed), we still had a great meal at Mario Batali’s Las Vegas restaurant B&B. By this point, we had heard to expect little to nothing of any celebrity chef restaurant in Vegas. But since this dining experience was part of the reason we were staying at the Venetian, I wasn’t going to let bad press dim my enthusiasm.

The first big plus was that unlike many celebrity ventures, B&B was relatively small. This, naturally, meant that the tables were a wee bit too close together for my liking but that was only a half-star deduction. Unlike other similarly priced Vegas restaurants (*cough* Picasso *cough*), we were permitted to dine at our own pace and the courses were very nicely spaced out.

Our meals, while taken from Mario’s various cookbooks, were great if not highly memorable. The knowledgeable wait staff was able to advise us on wine pairings and even which dishes they felt were “winners.” Wine-wise; however, we did extremely well – from the champagne cocktails we started with to the gloriously lovely Muscat we ended the meal with. The Muscat was so nice that even I had a glass of the slightly sweet dessert wine!

These fine and pricey restaurants were lovely but our truly great “dining” choice of the trip was our dinner at Casa Bonita. Those of you who are fans of “South Park” will recognize the name from the season seven episode “Casa Bonita.” You may not have realized this was a real place but it is – complete with cliff divers, Bad Bart and the relatively bland “Mexican" food.

I wish we had nicer things to say about Casa Bonita, but the two hour wait to order, pick up our food cafeteria style, and then finally find a seat, only to eat bland food was less than thrilling. Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic that we experienced Cartman’s dream – but we’re not heading back any time soon.

Our final “destination” meal was in San Diego. The Corvette Diner is one of my favourite restaurants for several reasons not the least of which is that I enjoy having sassy waitresses throw straws in my face and tell me to hurry up because they have better things to do. Obviously, the diner is an acquired taste and popular with families, but the food is good and the milk shakes are great.

The downside to this fun venue is all the families who think that sassy waitresses are a good way to occupy their otherwise un-parented brats. We witnessed several children being downright belligerent to one waitress while the parents watched on and said nothing. Wait-chick finally stood-up for herself and told the children and parents off after the kids had thrown one too many napkins and straws (purloined from various other tables) at her. We applauded her and added extra money to our tip as a monetary high-five.

In between these adventures in eating, we ate lots of great home cooking with my parents, fast food in Illinois, tapas in Portland, and cider and beer everywhere else. It’s weird but as much as I love dining out in restaurants, and we all know I do, I was happy to get back to Nairobi and yummy, healthy home cooking Typ0 and Hubby style. That said, we’re going out to dinner tonight – and that’s good too!

Friends and Beers

The Toronto portion of our home leave trip was especially remarkable for all of the reunions we managed to squeeze into our time there. From mini high school reunions to mini pub-crawls and even miniature people that made me want to have my own mini me. Of course, due to “Wandering the World” rules, I can’t actually post many of the amazing photos of these events. So, if you were there, you’ll know what’s missing. And if you weren’t there – well, you’re just going to have to use your imagination.

I should start by giving props to that wonderful invention: Facebook. I realize that I blogged at length about how it was ruining my life with addiction and insecurities but in this case it actually begat something really cool. Several of the girls from my high school are all on Facebook and we even have a group for our graduation year. As luck would have it, someone came up with the brilliant idea of having a “mini reunion” which just happened to be scheduled so that I could attend.


All the former Ladies met at a local bar where we proceeded to catch up on old times, find about new times, and even gossip about the times of people who couldn’t make it. It was amazing how much we all still looked like our 18 year old selves – not a day had passed. Most of the Ladies seemed to be teachers and/or mothers, which left me as the odd chick out on several levels. Of course we also had artists, lawyers, nurse practitioners, and, of course, me who blogs.

It was sincerely amazing to see all these people again and I wish that even more of my classmates had been able to attend. KC showed up and told us the happy news that she was expecting soon. Hubby (who arrived to pick me up) thought that A was hot. (I can always count on him to drool over someone when it is least appropriate.) After being the odd girl out in North York all through high school everyone seemed to have moved to the neighborhood in the intervening years. Several Ladies promised they’d come visit Casa del Typ0 in Kenya (and I really hope they do!!). I know I’m leaving out a lot of people and I apologize. It was awesome seeing each of you, even if I don’t mention you by name here. **hugs**


Next up on the reunion front was seeing She of the Gratuitous H (or SGH for short). SGH and I went to Dalhousie together back in the day and she was responsible for my showing up for several of classes when I would have otherwise slept in, chatted online, or just ignored class all together. More importantly, SGH was there when I met Hubby. She was there when I accidentally proclaimed my love to him via email to the wrong person (her). She was there when Hubby and I first met in person.

It is this topic I should address first. You see, She of the Gratuitous H claims that she didn’t want Hubby as he was on her “B-List.” Hubby has always claimed that he visited Toronto to see me because he loved me even then. (Cue: awwwwwwwwwww) Yet they were both there! If you had seen these two during our pub crawl you would have seen them making goo goo eyes at each other, casting longing glances when they thought I wasn’t looking, and just generally wishing I wasn’t there so they could get it on.

Hubby would probably like to point out at this point that I’m a paranoid conspiracy theorist who sees things that aren’t there like ghosts and people hitting on him. SGH would point out that she doesn’t like Hubby that way and it’s always my body she’s wanted and not his. (That’s my version of what she would say, anyways.) And then finally they’d both lock lips and laugh at me for believing either of them.

Needless to say, we had an amazing time during Pub Crawl ’07 and as you’ll see in a blog this weekend, much beer, cider, sake, and martinis were consumed. Now if only we could get SGH and her bf Chip to visit us in Nairobi the circle would be complete. (‘Cause unless I lose a bet, I’m not going to North Bay. Love you!)

The final reunion was with Carebear, her husband, and her ADORABLE son Cub. (The picture here isn’t Cub, obviously, but one of his toys that I desperately wanted to steal and Hubby thought was a hat.) The Care reunion was two fold as she and I partied it up on our own for lunch and shopping one day and then we let the boys in on the festivities at her place for Chinese.

I really can’t understate how much seeing her son made me want to have a baby. I bugged Hubby about it for days. The only reason we are not parents right now is that he pointed out that babies don’t come potty trained. Dang it! Of course meeting her Hubby (then bf) named Ubby made me go out and find my own version: same age and name, just less buff and taller.

Of course, there were also family reunions but I’ll tell you about those another time. I need to go and drown my happy memories in cider and drunk-post on Facebook.

And They’re Off!

Later this week I’ll tell you guys about the wonderful people I was able to hook up with in Toronto. I may even tell you about all the shopping I did – both the window (literally) and clothing varieties. But first, I wanted to tell you about the awesome day I spent winning money.

My parents are avid horse racing fans – some of you may remember that my father goes every May to watch the Kentucky Derby live and in person. As luck would have it, a race known as the Queen’s Plate was being run in Toronto around week two of my trip. Some of you may be worrying at this point since it isn’t exactly a secret that I have an addictive personality (Martini, anyone?) and probably shouldn’t be gambling without close Hubby-supervision. Well, stop worrying and reread the first paragraph – I made money, baby!

But I’m getting ahead of myself…

The ‘Rents and I made our way to Woodbine racetrack and parked as far as humanly possible from the front door. Before we could bet on any races, my mother had to explain how to read the racing form/booklet I had been given at the door. I evaluated her advice and weighed it with my own careful research before betting on horses whose names sounded the best. I headed over to the betting window and bet $5.00 each on various horses to win (first), place (first or second), or show (first, second, or third).

The seats we had gave us a wonderful (and wonderfully shaded) view of the finish line. My first ever, live race ended with me winning - absolutely nothing. Over the course of the next few several races I managed to bet a total of sixty or seventy dollars while winning only about ten or twenty. I was obviously in the zone… the losing one, that is.

Immediately after race number eight, the three of us placed our bets on the Big race – the Queen’s Plate. The horse I wanted to bet on had been scratched (withdrawn) so I quickly chose another one at random. From the betting windows we head out to watch the parade.

The parade is a pre-race opportunity to see the horses and their jockeys up-close. The real competition at the parade appeared to be among the owners who strutted and peacocked around as if they were the ones who were about to run rather the pricey investments behind them. That’s when I saw horse number nine and it’s pretty aqua horse blanket. I wish I could tell you that I looked into that horse’s eyes and saw something but the truth of the matter is that the horse was pretty and I liked the colour of its silks.

Team Typ0 rushed back to our seats so that we wouldn’t miss a moment of the race. While the ‘Rents got comfy I stopped off at the betting window to place $5 on #9 to win and, as a hedge, another $5 to show. Shortly after I got settled into my seat, the race began and everyone was cheering on for their horse to go faster, stay in the race, and win them some money. That’s when I noticed #9 edging up to the front of the pack. I joined the screaming masses encouraging my horse to be a leader and pull ahead.

It was a clear win!! Horse #9 (whose name I really wish I could remember) and his jockey won one for the history books - the jockey was the first woman to ever ride to first in Plate history. As for me, it was a double win since I had believed in my horse enough to bet on it twice! My final haul was almost $100. Quite the return on my $10 investment, eh? Not including my entrance ticket (which my parent’s had paid for) I ended my day $30 up.

My time at the Queen’s Plate was a winning trend that would continue throughout my gambling-themed vacation. I may not have had a complicated system, or even basic knowledge about what I was doing, but I had proven that a little naivety could go a long way. Including the bar where, that night, drinks were on me!

Forgive Me

It has come to my attention that I may have been rather lax in the blog updating department for the last few months. To everyone who has commented in person, by phone, email, or commented directly on the blog: Thank you for reminding me that my first obligation is to you guys and this blog, not to writer’s block and being pouty. I have abandoned my Devoted Readers for too long and promise to get back on the blogging horse and stay there!

When last we read the blog, I was about to leave for Toronto to see my family. Let me start by pointing out that while we all know that while I love Emirates, 14 hours on any one plane without a break is simply too long unless your husband loves you and lets you upgrade to business. Needless to say I flew economy.

My first adventure started before I’d even made it home. The flight from JFK to Toronto was delayed so long that I ordered a venti, triple shot macchiato and didn’t even think that it tasted too much of espresso. I was that tired. I should point out here that I had awoken on Wednesday around 8 a.m. Nairobi time and by the time they finally announced my flight was going to leave JFK, I had been awake for 48 hours. (In my next life, I want to come back as someone who can sleep in economy. Or better yet, someone who only flies business or first class.)

When I arrived at Pearson, I went to the taxi desk and gave them my name. My mother, who was in Ireland at that moment, had pre-booked a taxi for me. The taxi desk had no idea what I was talking about. Smiling in a polite Canadian way, I went off to find a pay phone so I could call the company to confirm that they really did have my reservation. Of course, since it was almost 2 a.m. and I was four hours late, they weren’t entirely thrilled to hear from me – but they were expecting me.

Happy once again, I dragged my two cases, carryon and purse the kilometer or so to the correct desk where I gave my name. The gentleman at this desk hadn’t heard of me either despite the fact that I had just hung up from speaking with a dispatcher. This was approximately the moment when I lost it.

“I am not an orphan! My mummy ordered a taxi for me! I’ve been awake for 48 hours and I want to go home! I’m not an orphan and I just want to go home!” I wasn’t just hysterical, I was crying and sobbing with huge tears falling down my pathetic face.

At this point, I think the guy at the desk was going to offer to drive me home himself if only to get me out of his airport. Luckily for him, my taxi showed up at just that moment. I would like to point out that I did apologize for having a nervous breakdown and the kind gentleman told me that he understood. Of course, he also looked VERY relieved to know that I was about to leave and he would never have to deal with me again.

By the time I arrived home and had found a key to the front door, I was so overly tired that I couldn’t sleep – so I called Hubby and told him my pathetic story. He laughed at me, as I’m quite certain that you are too. But at that moment it didn’t matter; I went upstairs and tucked myself into a bed in the room with the same baby wallpaper that had been on the walls since before I was born. The world map on the wall was new but as I fell asleep I drew a line from Nairobi to Toronto and smiled - I was home and all the heartaches, tears, and bad airplane food that got me there was worth it.

Ciao Bellas!

The time has come, the blogger said, to write of many things. Of long haul flights in economy, of Big Macs, and Queens. Ok, so I’m no Lewis Carroll – sue me! But the lowdown is the same nonetheless -- I’m heading home!

Chances are that by the time you have read this, I will be on my way to the Nairobi airport for my two-day trip back to Toronto (Have I mentioned that the flight from Dubai to New York is 14 hours long and that Hubby won’t let me upgrade?!).

I will try to blog regularly during home leave but probably not every day. Sorry. ☹ But keep checking in as I will be sure to share stories about preflight drinks at Mercury’s Cosmo night, that 14 hour ride in coach, seeing my family after another year away, shopping, my parents’ 40th anniversary, reuniting with Hubby when he joins me at the end of June, finally having Mexican food when we get to Illinois, shopping, meeting FIL 2.0, Vegas and its Mario Batali wonderfulness, shopping, seeing The Guys in Portland, and lots of other good gossip.

Please wish me a safe flight and I’ll be seeing you all soon.

Your favorite Blogger B!tch is outtie… for now.

Cute Shoes

I was going to blog about my brother, BBS, and his tough life: “I was at work last night in Paris, on the Champs d'Elysée for a cocktail party.” Then I was going to blog about how I don’t really want to go home because I’m a sap who is going to miss her sweetie… Oh, and I’ll miss Hubby too.

So instead of writing, I started chatting with ‘Ren online. (Yeah, her again.) After chatting about our usual witty nonsense, I asked her if bringing three pairs of shoes home with me was going over board. ‘Ren was surprised that I wasn’t going to bring more shoes and asked me about the shoes I packed. When I mentioned my cute Docs, she insisted that Doc Martins didn’t come in cute varieties.

And that’s when I found my next pair of shoes. *cue heavenly music* Aren’t they gorgeous?! Plus they come in a really pretty shade of brown. *happy girly sigh* Of course I have no idea how much they cost. Nor do I know if they even sell them in the States but… I want them!!! *sob*

One Hour Later: I found another pair of shoes. The second pair is also cute and slightly more formal. Maybe I can buy both pairs!!!

What do you think? Are these the cutest shoes ever to bear the Doc Martin brand? Or is it just me?

Explosion in Nairobi - Again

By now many of you have probably heard about the bombing, which occurred this morning in Nairobi. The explosion occurred downtown near the Ambassador Hotel during rush hour in a very busy area. My driver, P, in between calls from loved ones ringing to make sure he was okay, said that the matatu depot near there is always packed at that hour or morning.

As I write this, local news outlets are torn about who is to blame for the tragedy. Per this article, al-Qaeda has claimed responsibility. However, the belief locally is that the Mungiki Cult carried out this crime. By the time you read this, it is likely, and hopeful, that we all know more. In the mean time, we can only pray for the wounded and for the families of the deceased.

Explosion rocks central Nairobi

At least one person has been killed and several others injured in a blast in Kenya's capital, Nairobi, police say.

Witnesses say the explosion happened outside a cafe near the Ambassador Hotel in the centre of the city.

Initial reports suggest a suicide bomber carried out the attack but this has not been confirmed.

The area has been sealed off by police and the military. The blast was close to the site of the 1998 US embassy bombing which killed 213 people.

The al-Qaeda network said it carried out that attack.

Monday's explosion happened at about 0800 local time (0500 GMT) outside the City Gate Restaurant.

It remains unclear if it was a suicide bomber.

One eyewitness told the BBC from hospital that he was knocked to the floor by a man running away just before the explosion.

Robert Maritim said he had been having his shoes shined near the blast and believed the man killed was a street sweeper.

Another witness said a man detonated a bomb inside the cafe. Other reports said it was a grenade blast outside.

Shop windows nearby were shattered and the area has now been cordoned off as anti-terrorist police with sniffer dogs comb the scene for further explosives.

Police later said one person had been killed and about six others injured in the blast.

Torn pieces of the Koran were found near a body outside the cafe but at this stage it is not clear if they are linked to this attack, the BBC's Karen Allen in Nairobi says.

Last week, more than 30 people were killed in Nairobi during a three-day police crackdown on suspected members of the outlawed Mungiki sect.

Countdown

We went in search of suitcases today. Hidden hither and thither throughout the apartment we finally found the collection of bags that will be joining us on our separate trips back the Real World: Hubby at the end of the month and me in just a few days. Yes, my friends, I will be back in the Real World by the end of the week. *bounce*

The only down side to my homecoming is the 14 hour journey from Dubai to New York – in economy. *sob* I called to find out if I could upgrade to business class and the kind lady laughed at me and told me that it would cost me oodles of miles and money to do so. Thus I will be jetting home whilst jammed into an economy seat for fourteen hours!! *sob* And with my luck, I’ll probably end up sitting next to someone to who smells, or snores, or worse, who wants to talk!

So please don’t hold it against me if I’m not looking forward to my trip home. I’m sure that the Real World is still the lovely place I left behind and that all of you are excited to see me. But until my magical powers kick in so that I wiggle my nose, bob my head, or snap my fingers to arrive immediately at my destination… Until then, my friends, I will go only resignedly to my airplane fate.

Justice is so Hot

At first it seemed that this week would end on a low note – Inmate #9818783 (aka Paris Hilton) had been released for “house arrest” to serve out the remainder of her sentence. Poor thing was going to be stuck in her private pad where, just hours after her arrival, free gifts, friends, and paparazzi were arriving to welcome her home. Thank god for Judge Michael Sauer!

The good judge, you see, had the wild and crazy notion that just because Paris a rich celebutante that she didn’t deserve to be let out of the punishment he had imposed. She went to Mommy (the LA County Sheriff) behind Daddy’s back. And now Dad’s pissed.

Yay Judge!!

Is it wrong that hearing she was back in jail made me so happy I shouted with glee? Is it somehow mean of me that the photo on the top of today’s blog makes me smile every time I look at it? I think that Lily Allen put it best:

“At first when I see you cry,
yeah it makes me smile, yeah it makes me smile
At worst I feel bad for a while,
but then I just smile I go ahead and smile.”

So while she’s screaming out, "It's not right!" and looking for Mama Hilton, the rest of us can look on in ill disguised glee and say, “Now, that’s hot!”

You're a Superstar!

I realize that crediting 'Ren as my muse two days in a row for could set a dangerous precedent in terms of her “fragile” ego. But this one is too awesome not to share with my favourite Devoted Readers.

Enjoy!

I Hate Plumbers

I cannot explain just how much the title of today’s entry accurately reflects my feelings right now. In fact, hate may be too mild a word: loathe and despise might be slightly more accurate. In case you haven’t already guessed, I had plumbers in the house today. That’s what they called themselves in any case.

*deep breath*

I wrote a blog explaining why I hate plumbers but at about page four of the diatribe I realized that I was being a tad verbose. Thus I have elected to regale you all with my tale of plumbing woe when I am less irate and can squeeze it into a few witty comments. Or at least when my anger can be condensed into slightly less than four pages of Times New Roman eight-point font.

Now then, since I believe that everyone should leave my blogging home with a free gift with(out) purchase I give you: The Helicopter Game. ‘Ren introduced to me to this addictive game and she learned about it over at our mutual home, ecfans. Play once and you’ll be stuck in front of your computer for hours.

You’re welcome.

Dubai Sweet Dubai

After several days of silence I have returned to the blogosphere with some real updates! In case you were worried about us or missed us during the silence, Hubby and I left last Thursday afternoon for a much-deserved weekend away from Kenya. Y’all know how much I love (most of the time) my life here in Nai-Robbery, but let’s face it – the need to escape into the Real World on a semi-regular basis goes hand-in-hand with living in the developing world.

During our trip, Hubby devised a new logo for our favorite Emirate: “Las Vegas for Adults.” Sure there isn’t any gambling and nakedness is generally frowned upon in the UAE but those aren’t the things that I really look for in a vacation spot. Dubai has it all: five star dining, first class shopping, and comfortable hotels designed to make you want to extend your stay for a day or two. Heck, we even found all-you-can-eat buffets that would put Vegas to shame! The final similarity would have to be the heat in this desert oasis. When your glasses steam up the moment you exit your air-conditioned hotel, you know it’s a wee bit humid outside.

One of the definite highlights of this trip was dinner at Verre, the Gordon Ramsay restaurant at the Hilton. Despite opting against the prix fixe we were still presented with a meal consisting of no less than seven courses. The meal opened with a selection petit fours, which included a truffle cream puff that was so divinely rich that I may or may not have stolen Hubby’s. From there we moved onto an amuse bouche of gazpacho, our individual appetizers and main courses, a “pre-dessert,” dessert, truffles, and then they brought us even more chocolate. The entire meal was not only expertly prepared but the service was attentive without being overbearing. By the time we paid the bill we were both slightly intoxicated and had sufficiently achieved what my Aunt T would call “an elegant sufficiency.”

I suppose that I can’t talk about our weekend in Dubai without mentioning the Mall of the Emirates where we gave my Visa card a healthy workout. They must pump drugs into the air of that mall because I bought several pink items insisting they were “cute and pink” – and I don’t even like pink.

The lowlight of our adventure was lunch at the Mall. Shockingly, I headed straight for McDonald’s where I ordered a Big Mac combo… That I hated! *sob* I could barely finish this ultimate sign of the Real World; and you all know I have been dreaming about it for ages. Yet my Mac tasted greasy and not quite like I remembered. Hubby said that it was a sign that I was maturing. *sob* Next thing you know, they’ll start calling me an adult and expect me to know what I want to be when I grow up. *sob*

The only other cool thing we did in Dubai was going to Wild Wadi Water Park. I wanted to go skiing but Pouty Baby said that he had never skied and really wanted to go down the water slides at this popular tourist hotspot. After a few hours of lazing in “rivers,” screaming down slides, and trying to drown each other in the wave pool, we finally headed back to the hotel. Best of all, Hubby didn’t even get a sunburn!

That was our weekend in civilization. And now we’re back in Nairobi and I couldn’t be happier. Like I said, needing to get out of town for a few days is natural around here but so is the pleasure of coming Home.

‘Tater Cool

I’m not normally one to post news from TMZ but this was too awesome not to share. The new “Transformers” movie looks beyond lame but this is one promotional tie-in that I may actually buy.

Mr. Potato Head on his own – not so much.
Mr. Potato Head dressed up as Optimus Prime – I am so there!

More Than Meets the Fries

Regardless of how well the upcoming "Transformers" movie does -- the real news is Optimash Prime -- and Mr. Potato Head.

The folks over at Hasbro have transformed Mr. Potato Head into the ultimate robot leader. The Optimash Prime action figure, like all of his Potato Head brethren, comes with mix-and-match pieces -- even a sweet Magnum P.I. moustache! Nothing strikes fear into the electronic soul of a Decepticon like a bad moustache!

Now all we need is a Megatater Decepticon for ultimate spud-on-spud warfare.

Birthday Time!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUMMY!!