So apparently, I’m shallow.

I like sundresses, kittens and books. I can’t leave the house without lipstick. I’ll break an appointment with the (hypothetical) love off my life if my earring bag goes missing. I feel very miserable with untidy nails unless I’m dirt broke, in which case I don’t care. I like money, the spending of.  I love eating and I’m certain that good food can change your life, which is why I don’t understand or recognize that theory that food is food and must be gratefully wolfed down regardless of what it tastes like. Beauty is important. Seeing a pretty girl across the road can perk up an otherwise ugly day for me. I have issues dating people shorter than I am. I believe a good book can solve anything.

In admitting the above things to different people, I have met with derision. They’ve all invariably exclaimed, “Eh. The things that matter to you are…you are so shallow!”

When I said that my biggest motivation for finding employment the moment campus closed was so I’d get to play dress up and wear big girl shoes, the boy I was talking to immediately got bored with me.  It was as if I’d thrown a blanket over the fire of our conversation. Whatever potential was there died a cold death. Excuse me? Did I miss something? What reason should I have started work? Charity?

Life is frighteningly unpredictable and really short, which is why little pleasures are so important. In a world choking on its own ugliness, painted black and blue with depression, fear and cruelty, being able to find happiness in small things is a huge comfort; so if you see me smiling like a fusa and ask me why I’m so ecstatic and I squeal, “My earrings! They’re gorgeous, aren’t they?” don’t go away calling me a shallow bimbo under your breath.

Sure, we should all look at the bigger picture. Making a difference is important. In fact, don’t rest until you’ve become so sweet, relevant and helpful to the world that people get toothaches when they see you coming.

Things only become annoying when people become quick to accuse others of being less ‘deep’ because they’re interested in different things than them. For example, if John lives for ballet and Mary lives for politics, Mary will be a total tool to insinuate that she’s more relevant to the world than John is because he wears tutus and she wears shirts with political slogans. Generally, trying to impose your lifestyle on other people because you believe its deep and relevant doesn’t make a difference. It gets you punched in the mouth.

I’m not innocent of labeling people shallow either. Many of my male relatives (yes, plural) have suffered teasing because of their obsessive love of television soaps. These otherwise manly men will drop everything, shoo clients out of their offices, become blind to you and focus their entire selves on the TV the moment a soap starts. You and your concerns, however pressing, are irrelevant in the face of Marichuri. If I hadn’t quickly cultivated an interest in said soaps, I’d have died of a rage induced aneurysm a long time ago. So please people; tolerance.  

Here’s a fantastic, totally unrelated quote from Charles Bukowski: We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities; we are eaten up by nothing.’

4 thoughts on “So apparently, I’m shallow.

  1. First of all, how are we not friends? How? How? I love to dress up in “grown up” clothes. it’s one of the reasons I enjoyed my internship. I worked for an NGO and as my co-workers opted for t-shirts screaming slogans against child violence, I wore 4+ inch heels and impossible pencil skirts everyday of work moreover on treacherous Kampala terrain(My ankles won’t forgive me & yeah the Buganda Rd. P/S principal told me I looked like a local music artiste when I went over to sensitize the kids about their rights[screw her]) but It doesn’t mean I cared for my work any less. Hell, I’ll keep spiriting my ideas and furthering my career one stiletto-clad foot at a time. You rock on, woman 🙂

    • Friends? We are now! I envy you your ability to walk in 4+ inch heels. I have to restrict my glammy self (:P) to low pumps and moderate wedge heels.

      I’m very happy that I’m not alone. The revolution continues!

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