Y chromosomes

Someone hit on me today.

FINA-fricking-LLY.

I don’t care if you all think I am the most pathetic human being alive, I don’t care if you all have a party and point and laugh at this admission, I don’t care if you have peed yourself already laughing, but it was an exciting moment for me.

Until he turned out to be 28…

 

 

-____-

 

Just my luck.

BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT.

It was a good feeling because, with God as my witness, I am going through the DROUGHT OF MY LIFE.

 

My goodness. I feel DRY. Interpret that however you want to, y’all, but Vancouver… Vancouver has STARVED ME.

And no, get your minds out of the gutter, I’m not talking about sex. I’m just talking about male attention. Good ol’ flirting. Guys looking you over from across the room. “Hey, can I get your number?” “Oooh girl, you look good.” etc etc etc

 

I really didn’t realize how good I had it back home until I got here.

Part of it, obviously, is due to the fact that half my life is spent trying to draw sense of the ramblings of my professors, most of whom drone… on… for… ages… without… changing… tone… or… pace… *snore*. So much so that I’m barely ever just, you know, CHILLEN at Starbucks or HANGING OUT at the Gallery so I don’t really socialize as much as I could. Granted.

 

And part of it also can be attributed to the way I’ve just completely let myself go and allowed depression to take me to McDonald’s to eat my sorrows away…

 
BUT part of it is the complete lack of GUTS in Vancouver.

 
Maybe I’m just too used to Kenyan guys and how forward they are. Kenyan guys will tell you UP FRONT that they like what you’re wearing. Kenyan guys will look at you, think you’re cute and walk up to you and GET THAT NUMBER. Kenyan guys will WHISTLE at you and go “Ei ei ei cheki yule dame!”. Kenyan guys DO NOT PLAY.

Haha I know you’re laughing at my sheng.
And of course, like every other Kenyan girl, I spent my days complaining about “Oh these Kenyan guys are just too much, they need to learn how to be subtle and take it slow, blah blah blah…” and whining and whining and whining.

I HAVE EATEN MY WORDS.

What I would not GIVE for a straight up “Hey baby how you doing?” kind of conversation right about now. Dear Lord.

And from what I’ve seen and heard, it really is an African thing. African guys are so direct… It’s a swag thing. They aren’t afraid to risk it, because even if you reject a dude back home, he really doesn’t need you to make him feel fly. Shiiii, back home guys don’t even have to LOOK like a million, but trust, they will walk around like they FEEL like a million. Guys back home already KNOW when they got it going on, so they don;t thinking of hollering at a girl as a risk. And I MISS THAT. Not because I’m tryna be getting with Tom, Dick and Harry and their neighbours from down the road… no. Just because it’s nice. Even when nothing comes of it, it’s nice to get to know people without it having to be such a big deal.
My friends and I are always talking about how, here, it’s like guys are too scared to try and talk to you because they feel like you’re gunna start catching feelings and getting too serious. So they just act all shy and look at you from a distnace… creepily. And then the GIRLS have to get the ball rolling. Like even when you like someone, YOU, the girl, YOU have to go and do the work and look for them and talk to them. And girls here are mighty aggressive, I tell you. And I just feel like it’s the wrong way around. Like the girls should be being chased. Am I being backward? Is that just me?

Even guys who came here FROM Africa… are just so… meh.

And that frustrates me.

I am socially frustrated in Vancouver.

 

And I am also 18 days away from Nairobi. Thank GOD.

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