Fake it till you make it?

I used to wonder how someone can call themselves Sir without being officially knighted by the queen (or a representative of hers). But even without a drop of blue in your blood, you could buy a title? Apparently quite legitimately you can call yourself whatever you want as long as you are not defrauding people through its use.

So for a small cash payment, you could be signing yourself Lord, Lady or Laird!

In Kenya we have one Sir.Njonjo a.k.a Sir.Charles a.k.a Duke of Kabeteshire who lives a very English lifestyle, is ashamed of being African and tops it with a reputation of snobbery. But unlike many people who buy their titles, Sir.Njonjo got his due to his horrid reputation for snobbery (and other anti-social atrocities.).

There’s obviously real demand for paid-for titles; a quick internet search shows pages of companies offering to make you a lord, lady or laird, or even a marquis or duke if you pay enough and while some websites charge hundreds to thousands of pounds for the titles, you can buy one for just under £20.

Lordship of the Manor (Lord) and Ladyship of the Manor (Lady) come with a personalised certificate (gold embossed), a few inches or feet of dedicated land in the English woodlands or Scottish highlands, historic coat of arms insignia and a presentation pack. The land is held in charitable trust and the money goes towards conservation work in the said estate; quite a good way of making the wanna-be culprits feel good about their dirty deed. (chuckle)

On one of the title selling websites, they say

“You're about to discover the amazing gift idea which has taken the U.S. and Europe by storm. This gift idea is guaranteed to bring you or a loved one:

• Increased respect from the people you know
• VIP treatment
• Access to the privileged world
• A instant talking point with your friends
• Prestige in the financial world
• A boost to your personal confidence
• Opportunities that otherwise would've passed you by
• Opened doors in your career
• Discounts in the consumer world
• The ability to influence people effortlessly

It's frightening how people in the twenty-first century still perceive a person with a title to be richer, more intelligent and better thought of, than the average Mr. Joe Bloggs. But people do - and you can take advantage of it.

The title holder will notice the instant change in people's attitudes. From the very first moment they realize that you have a title they will treat you as if you were royalty.”

Of course my friends would laugh at my face if I ever divulged that I had just bought myself a title, but in reality if I decided to buy a title my new-found nobility would gain me access to exclusive night clubs, free flight upgrades and if I called a Michelin starred restaurant and said I was Lady Scott, they would ensure that I got the best table, give me complementary champagne and even make sure the head chef came in to introduce himself to me. (lol)  just shows how shallow society is.

Fakery aside, how much is a REAL title? According to the internet, you can buy certain real titles, but it’s a pricey business. Chris Eubank paid £45,000 back in 1996 for the title Lord of the Manor of Brighton. French international bad boy footballer Djibril Cisse became Lord of the Manor of Frodsham when he bought a manor house in Cheshire that came with the title. The property is rumoured to have cost a cool £2 million.

Please be warned that buying a title is hugely looked down on in aristocratic circles, so unless you have the money to buy a real title and match it with a proper lifestyle, all you have bought with your £30 is just a fancy piece of paper - nothing but a change of name that you could have done with a solicitor for just £25.

My relationship with Phase-book.

When I first registered myself on Phase-book in 2007 I was super excited…… I just couldn't stop posting, inboxing and commenting in an attempt of catching up with everyone I knew in the heydays; thanks to my good memory, I managed to track down every single childhood boy I fancied and happily reminded them of how they “overlooked” me and went for the girls with longer hair and bigger boobs (chuckle). It also gave me the chance to ‘catch up’ with the girls who thought they were Queen Bees and getting a quick glimpse of how life was treating them now.

Growing up I was an ugly duckling…… I didn't get much attention from the boys (probably because I was a tomboy who peed in bed –still do sometimes, but that is a story for another day- lol)

By the moment I hit high school, my grey feathers started falling off and I evolved to something else. It doesn't surprise that most of the boys who never paid much attention to me in pre-school regretted it when they saw me again…… On Phase-book.

It was like those school reunions many people dread, where the skater boys who were told “see you later boys” meet the ex-cheerleaders who opted for the pumped up football players only to turn up later in life looking all worn out; nothing close to what they did when their teenage hormones were sizzling and their breasts and hips were blossoming.

It is life’s way of proving that Karma is a bitch.

My exit came as a surprise for most of my friends because I was VERY active. I used to play many level games (Farmville, Frontierville, Cityville) I was raising my own family, building my own empire and making my own money ON FACEBOOK! I was rich! The amount of satisfaction I got from that was amazing. It was like a drug that I couldn't go without; sometimes I used to wake up in the middle of the night to harvest my crops on Farmville or feed my kids on Frontierville. I would spend hours on the internet hoping from one game to another while uploading photos, chatting and engaging in the comments on my wall.

I was spending more time harvesting my gaming friends’ crops, begging them to help me out with my tasks or arguing out my opinions with total strangers in groups. At times the arguments would get nasty, and I was the iron fist once it got to dealing with such matters; but it was only when I found out about internet trolls and what they aim to achieve by shit-stirring that I stopped getting sentimental during group discussions.

So why did I leave Phase-book? It started off as a much needed social media sabbatical. It was just after my second wedding anniversary and I was going through a very rough patch in my life and being the bubbly open book I am, it got my friends very concerned each time I expressed a hint of sadness. Of course I was at a bad place in my life but as much as I needed the support, but I was starting to get frustrated at people feeling sorry for me and sending me motivational messages.

Then I started a new job and broke a major Phase-book rule…… I accepted Phase-friend requests from my colleagues; a major NO-NO in my books. But by the time I realised my major blunder, I couldn't delete them all and restricting them would be rather suspicious.

As much as I valued my friendships, they were becoming so superficial. I was getting tired of people not making up their minds on whether they were ‘In an open relationship’ , ‘Single’ ,  ‘Widowed’ , ‘Married’ or ‘Its Complicated’.

I remember getting bored one day and changing my real birthdate from October 24th to the next day and a few hours later, hundreds of birthday wishes started streaming in! Some of my real friends even fell for it! That is when I realised that I could be anyone I wanted to be and people would believe anything I said as long as they read it on Phase-book.

It was a Phase that I needed to get past…… So I sent a wall post saying that I was taking a break and deactivated my account for two weeks. During my time off I didn't miss it and was only intouch with about five people; that was when I knew that I was doing the right thing.

So I logged back on and made the announcement, I WAS GOING FOR GOOD. I put up a wall post and told my Phase-friends that I thought Phase-book was a total waste of my time and that I was leaving.

I also deleted my 90+ photo albums (my husband thinks it was irrelevant given that I was not planning on going back, but I needed to erase anything that had the capacity to tempt me back.)

I then sent an email to my friends giving them alternative ways to get in touch with me and I have never felt more liberated. While this move is unimaginable to many people, bidding adieu to Phase-book actually strengthened my existing relationships and enhanced my social life.

Of course it means that I am out of touch with many people, some who I will dearly miss, but anyone who is not willing to keep touch with me via email, phone, text, pigeon, drums or smoke signals is a peripheral acquaintance who does not matter and is not worth keeping touch with. Period. I also spend my time doing better things, like watching movies on Netflix and Blogging ;-)

Me not being on Phase-book is without fail a splendid conversation starter, and it adds a certain element of “ suspense” to my life…… so I have been told.

Anupta-what?

While working as a mortgage adviser at some bank, I had so many clients getting in touch to alert us to their marital splits and trying to find out how they would go on about  “removing him/her from the mortgage”.

Luckily for my husband and in the spirit of being young and smitten (I blame the Love-Bug), I happily suggested a prenuptial agreement before we got married as I wanted him to feel more secure with the assets he had acquired before the marriage and didn't want him to live in the fear that the girl from far-far-far away land might turn everything he had worked so hard for upside down.

(If I was to do it again, I would make sure I lay down some ultimatums before signing the dotted line. But that is a story for another day; so for now I will settle for splitting what we acquired TOGETHER. Oh how I would love to solely own the 48" Toshiba 3D Telly, Kenwood food processor and the PS3! -among other goodies.

Divorce is always a bitter pill to swallow, and it does creep in when people least expect it. But there are those people who think that they would have a better chance of sanity if they just held on and pretended not to notice the obvious impurities in their marriage. I am aware of the fact that relationships inevitably change over time, but I don’t know how I would deal with a situation where I wanted to walk away and be by myself..... I just wouldn't know how to cope with being 100% Single. (I'd be forced to hire myself a "mate") lol.

In a study of married men and women, the majority of wives (59%) said they would divorce immediately if their future economic security was assured.

In-fact, most people admit that they can’t leave their miserable marriages because they fear financial and emotional hardship and would rather stay in an unhappy relationship just for an easy life, for the sake of the children or to save themselves going through a massive upheaval.  Some people are more worried about what they would lose if they left their partner and they fear that they would have to give up their home if they split.

Being a very strong advocate for “walking away”, I am utterly scared of being single..... Not because I am worried about financial instability, but because I have never been single. They have a name for that kind of fear, Anuptaphobia.  

I suspect myself to be emotionally unstable and can’t fathom how hard it must be not to have someone to comfort and shelter you from the storm or lay out in the sun with you when things get upsy. 

Lets say that I've been fortunate to have always had someone in my life; be it a boyfriend, a ‘companion’ or a husband.

And that is where my ‘Monkey’ concept comes in.....Shallow as it may seem, I am like a monkey; I wouldn't let go of a branch unless I had my hand on another.

***Update***
01st March 2017. Ive been gone for over three years and I can't believe how much growing I've done. I didn't want anything when I walked away, not even the goodies I listed above.

Leave..... and let live.

Organ Donation...... Aye or Nay? :-,

Have you had a kindness shown?
Pass it on'Twas not given for thee alone, Pass it on
Let it travel down the years,
Let it wipe another's tears,
'Til in Heaven the deed appears …… Pass it on.-Henry Burton, Pass It On

I have always tried to be as generous as I can be, and if I had the means I would share everything I had with everyone I could. But that is not the case, all I can do is touch the few hearts that walk in and out of my life and try to make the most of my time while I’m alive.

“I love your shoes Tinda, they are sooooooo awesome!!!!” Someone says,   

“Do you want them?” I ask

“Are you kidding me? Don’t you like them?” someone asks,

“Of course I like them, but I think you like them and would appreciate them more” I answer.

That is the kind of person I am.

I have never seen the need of holding onto something I hardly use knowing that someone else would need it more. Hence the reason I registered myself as an organ donor. That was the quickest decision I ever made in my life.

I can not donate my whole cadaver to be pot on a cold metallic table and studied by students. I can not let my organs get pickled in jars for scientific studies. But I can let met heart beat in someone else's chest if need be and I can live with the thought of my kidneys filtering someone else's urine after having a nice drink. 

All I did was tick a few boxes and the next thing I knew I had received my donor card and a letter thanking me for taking the big step by deciding to donate my heart, lungs, liver, pancreas and kidneys (I refused to give up my brown eyes and by bum, those and the rest of me are MINE TO KEEP!)

                                    caption (Your eyes deserve a better afterlife. PLEDGE THEM)

Now according to some statistics.

• Each of us is 4 or 5 times more likely to find ourselves in need of a donated organ than to become an organ donor.
• 73% of us would accept a donated organ, yet 62% of us have not signed up for organ donation. 
• More than 40% of families refuse permission for donation of their loved ones organs.
• 69% are in favour of an opt-out system, with 31% unsure or with a clear wish to opt out. 

 Depending on the circumstances in which I will die, my organs might be donated to someone else…… Someone who has been on an organ waiting list due to an unpronounceable disease or a self inflicted ‘situation’ and is probably hoping that someone else will die so they can live.

I recently watched Will Smith’s ‘Seven Pounds’ and after seeing a representation of how desperate some really nice people were to stay alive, I knew that what I did was right. 

But unlike Will, I haven’t yet decided that my life is worthless and that someone else would make more use of what I have inside me.

This organ donating business is tricky you know…… There is the thought of whether or not my organs will be well preserved in death.

What if I end up rotting in a dump? Or toasted in some fire? What if I decide to drink a ‘cocktail’ that will make me sleep for good? Then my organs won’t be any good to anyone, right? ……. If my organs are going to play a role in giving someone else a second chance, they have to make sure that whichever way I die, they rush me into hospital in time for someone who is almost giving up on the wait.

Then I watched Mel Gibson’s ‘How I spent my summer holidays’ and thought to myself…… What if the liver I have taken care of all my life is attached to someone who has polluted and overworked their liver with alcohol? What if my precious lungs are given to someone who decided to make their lungs an internal chimney? And what if the heart I constantly take to the gym will end up with someone who will walk it into McDonalds and clog it with fat until it shuts down? (again?)

What good will I have done to give someone who couldn't take care of themselves a second chance? (sigh) of course I won’t have the chance to decide who my organs should go to before they lay me down and cut me up……. I had a conversation with my very special friend Sabina who told me that I can actually choose whom my organs go to. Her ideal candidate for her organs would be a vegan (who loves organic food, scented candles and yoga; and is ideally atheist "Waheeeeeeeeeeeey!"). Her worst candidate would be a Catholic butcher (LMFAO!).

I mean, the worst thing that can happen is for my organ to be donated to a racist, my ashes will literally turn in the urn if that happened; but I also fear that the person at the top of the list might be a present or future paedophile, junkie, murderer etc (you get my drift don’t you?).  But I won’t have the choice, will I?

All I can do is hope that any of my organs will be good enough for people who will make something good out of themselves and the people around them.

"Don't think of organ donation as giving up part of yourself to keep a total stranger alive.  It's really a total stranger giving up almost all of themselves to keep part of you alive."-Author Unknown

Let's talk about the Bill.

You know that awkward moment at the end of a meal, when the bill is set in the middle of the table waiting on someone to reach out and grab it? And in some serious cases the phones come out simultaneously for calculation purposes….. It is the kind of tension that would make the sharpest knife shy, right?

Now I just got back from having a nice meal by the sea with a friend and her friend; and after splitting the bill, we started talking about going Dutch i.e. splitting the bill equally, going German i.e. people paying their share or I would call going African i.e. Letting the man settle the bill or letting whomever extended the invite settle the bill.

According to my good friend Google, going Dutch is close to "faire moitié-moitié" or "faire moite-moite" in France, which means "each one pays half of the bill". This usually does not include women, who according to traditional French "étiquette" should not pay when there are also men present. In a business meeting, the receiving party usually pays for all - it is considered rude not to do so, and rarely (if ever) occurs.

In some parts like India, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iran, it is even considered taboo to ask people to pay their own bills. The bills are generally paid by the elder of a group, the male in a couple, the local of the area, or by the one who made the invitation if there is no significant age gap. Invitations are only given if someone understands that they can pay for all of the guests (which are very similar to what most of us do in Kenya.) In my tribe, we have a name for the person who is known to pay the bills and get others eating off his hand. We call him 'Mutingoi' meaning Boss. A typical 'Mutongoi' would be very angry at anyone trying to steal their limelight by paying a bill at their table and men are always fighting to show that they are indeed, the Boss.

I take pride in my ‘going African’ and as much as I like paying my way through life, there are so many times where I have chosen not to play “Miss. independent” and I do not in the slightest way regret it. I remember once saying to my brother “I don’t care how much I earn, my money is my money and his money is my money.”…..

well, that in some aspects is true.

In the scenario where I invite a man (or woman) out, I will not let them touch the bill….. I will settle it, tip whenever necessary and thank them for the wonderful company.

Then there are those “sponges” that always show up and just want to soak up the juice without chipping in at all. I once fell out with a friend because she would happily have one drink after another (and sometimes a meal) on a night out yet never chipped in when the bill was placed on the table. Did I even mention the fact that she was earning more money than me? -sigh-

If a man takes me out on a date, I will not offer nor expect to pay the bill; and unlike many women out there (raising my freshly tweezed right eye brow) I will not show up with my relatives and friends who will end up drinking the most expensive bottle of champagne and eating the finest caviar and truffles. I will show up alone and have what I’d normally have on a normal meal out and would expect the man to happily foot the bill, give a tip and pull out the chair for me with a big smile on his face.

If I go out with a friend or a bunch of friends the most common thing is splitting the bill, regardless of who ate what. It is the trickiest situation for scrooges though, because they find it unfair to pay more yet all they were expecting to pay for was for their bowl of soup and a glass of lemon water. My advice for such people is to state their financial situation before the orders are placed. A simple “I am sorry guys, but I will just have something small because I am skint today.” would go a long way in such cases; just make sure you don’t make a reputation out of it (chuckle).

Some men still feel that as men, they would like to be the one to pay for dinner, as this makes them feel more masculine, and they think it's polite to follow old fashioned etiquette (I like such men). At the same time, some women like to assert their “independence”, and don't like to feel obligated to their date in any shape or form, and so prefer to pay their way.

I don’t think a woman should make a habit of sponging off men; neither do I think that a woman should insist on paying for the bill if she’s been invited on a date by a man. I personally find it insulting and detrimental to a man’s ego for a woman to insist on settling a bill.

My advice for men who hang around “independent women”, if for whatever reason, she absolutely insists on paying, the simple solution is to just let her do it. Weigh the cost of angering her versus the slight embarrassment of her whipping out her plastic for both of you in a fancy restaurant. This issue is definitely not worth fighting over, but you can make sure that the next time you go out with her, she is fully aware about the fact that you are paying.

So in real sense, there are no solid rules on who pays the bill….. Going Dutch, German or African is all determined by etiquette and the circumstances that led to the bill.

Nature vs. Nurture.

A child is born with the potential ability to learn Chinese or Swahili, play a kazoo, climb a tree, make a strudel or a birdhouse, take pleasure in finding the coordinates of a star. Genetic inheritance determines a child's abilities and weaknesses. But those who raise a child call forth from that matrix the traits and talents they consider important." Emilie Buchwald

A few days ago I was watching an amazing movie called Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, it is about an atheist renowned fisheries expert called Jones who works on a project to bring salmon fishing to the Yemen - a project being bankrolled by a wealthy Yemeni sheikh who loves fly fishing. 

The salmon is meant to be imported from Scotland but because of the spirited opposition by fly fishermen to removing salmon from British rivers, they are forced to proceed with farmed salmon. The sheikh does not believe that salmon bred in captivity will ever survive because they won’t have the natural instinct to won’t to swim upstream to spawn on gravel beds like wild salmon; even Jones is doubtful. The sheikh rejects the offer but eventually Jones convinces the sheikh to give the farmed salmon a try.

Although his science background tells him otherwise, Jones has faith that the salmon will instinctively swim upstream - a faith the sheikh finds ironic.

On the salmon launch day, they open the pods, at first the salmon float with the Yemen river current, but then one fish starts to swim upstream, and then others, and soon everyone celebrates the success of the project.  

And here is where the Nature vs. Nurture debate comes to play.

I ve always felt that in many ways, my older brother Mark and I are the same. Apart from having similar birth marks, we have a similar sense of humour; we share similar opinions and are similarly stubborn. However, we hugely vary in certain abilities and our approach to difficult situations. 

He tends to lock himself up whenever he is going through a hard time and I tend to open up to the universe whenever my day isn't going on so well. I also am more ruthless, decisive and would rather stay up and fight while he is a bit passive, indecisive and would rather ‘sleep it off and leave it for another day.’

Mark aside, I happen to have been brought up by a very similar mother.

I could easily say that I am a very strong willed woman who is not one to settle for less and if pushed, can cross the limits to get what she wants..... Now I know that that is scary and as much as I know what I am capable of, I have thankfully never been pushed to that extent, but I am always worried that I have in some aspects turned out to be my mother’s daughter.

Now I am not trying to say that I was brought up by Cruella de Vil and her many Dalmatians; my mother is a very inspirational woman with a very inspirational story. She rose from nothing to something and it is her exceptional will power that drove her to where she is today.

Mum went through a really hard time; she was forced to drop out of college so her brothers could go through school and ended up with an abusive husband who used to beat the living daylights off her and eventually took her back to her mother when he got fed up with her. Had she decided to ‘accept her circumstances’, I would be somewhere in the village with cracked heels, drooping boobs and several hungry and malnourished kids tagging behind me like a pack of dogs to their master.

But she never settled; she got out of the village and went into the city with her kids in search for a better life; after walking away from several malfunctioning relationships, she eventually got a man who made all of us happy, the man whose name I proudly wear like a badge of honour.

Now not everyone is as lucky as I am, some parents do get comfortable in their ‘poverty’ and assume that there isn't much they can do to change things.

What makes me who I am? What brings my dreams to reality?

Buddah once said, "All that we are is a result of what we have thought" and I do agree with him.

Luckily, I have never really struggled in my life; of course I have had some episodes of bumps and hiccups, but most things I have wanted have in one way or another been delivered to me. 

I am a very strong believer in the power of attraction and I know that “You can be anything you want to be, only if you put your mind into it.”

Nature would have wanted me to be poor, nature would have wanted me I grow up in my circumstances and get over it.....

So has nature taught me anything positive along the way? I guess it has. 

I can give credit where it is due, Nature has taught me how to be selfless and how to love people with every single hair on my body. It has also taught me that there is more to life than shoving people out of my way to get my share of the pie.

I do disagree with my mother on many occasions, but she has taught me several consequential lessons along the way, 1. To get what’s mine, 2. To walk out of any relationship that doesn't work out for me and 3. Never to have kids (which she strongly disagrees with by the way but that will be another story for later.)

And when it's all said and done, in theory I am who I am due to a little bit of  nature, nurture..... and some handy free will.  

"The route through childhood is shaped by many forces, and it differs for each of us. Our biological inheritance, the temperament with which we are born, the care we receive, our family relationships, the place where we grow up, the schools we attend, the culture in which we participate, and the historical period in which we live--all these affect the paths we take through childhood and condition the remainder of our lives." 

Robert H Wozniak.

Act like a Lady, think like a Lady.

“Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition” 

Timothy Leary

The problem with most women is that they always get engrossed in being better than men and after painfully watching a Nairobi girl in the name of Susan harass and intimidate a lovely young man called George on a ‘date’, I have officially given up my hope in some women ever finding happiness leave alone husbands (and I am in no way, shape or form trying to imply that all women should be in a lifetime pursuit of husbands.)

This Susan girl literally stripped the guy down in the pursuit of acting like a “Diva” -Rolling my eyes.-
Attached, please find a link of the ‘date’ and experience what I experienced because I honestly don’t have the right words to express the episode. It should have been renamed “How to annoy anybody and get the whole African continent running after you with machetes and flaming torches in 21minutes and 43seconds.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ow0IA98ldXc

My advice to any woman intending on ever doing that in national television, PLEASE DO YOUR HOMEWORK AND DO SOME FACT FINDING BEFORE YOU GO AROUND WITH STUPIDITY OOZING FROM YOUR HEAD.

But Susan is not the only female being who has tried to show her date that she is a  “Diva”, there are so many women who get men sprinting for the caves and hills due to their Miss-Independent-‘Feminist’ attitude.

There is logic in why women look different to men; nature never intended for us to look scary and intimidating, hence the reason we have curves and ‘soft bits’ here and there while men are 'hard, hairy and scary'. We are meant to make the most complex of situations seem like a simple stroll in the park; but I bet most men including my husband would highly disagree with my notion.
He probably thinks that Karma led me into his life to make him pay for the horrid mistakes he made in his past life..... Now I'd say the same about him, but I will leave that story for a later date. (chuckle)

Bottom line is, every woman should know her capabilities and should never be bothered trying to prove that she can stomp her feet and do the ‘ugly dance’ whenever she is vexed.

In my life, I have had the pleasure of getting my way without the need of trivializing and making anybody who has ever disappointed me feel like a piece of excrement..... My irrelevant opinion is that there is more to life than ‘wearing the pants’ and to be honest I've never enjoyed anything more than I enjoy being a woman.

So please forget those expensive ‘female empowering’ books, conferences and campaigns; you’d be surprised how far a simple nod and a smile (or smug) while looking straight into a man’s eyes can get you..... (Delilah and Jezebel knew my secret too.)