Nairobi lesbians

New ImageA FUN ASPECT to this blogging thing is followers. Everybody wants to have as many followers as possible because who wants to write if nobody reads?

I have a button in the right column where you can click “Get Mooned” to become a follower. Get Mooned. Get it? Usually, when someone decides to follow The Unseen Moon I get an email about it. One thing has become clear: Some people do it just so you’ll go look at their blog. It’s a fishing expedition.

Another method is “liking” a post. If you’re on a fishing expedition, this would be easier for you. Now don’t get me wrong. I am quite fond of followers which, in theory, are readers. The more the merrier, as it’s said.

There are ways to detect that a follower is just on a fishing expedition. Most have a Gravatar, which is a link back to them. Often there is another link and a photo on that Gravatar. If it’s a teenager, you’re likely looking at a fisherman. If it’s a teenager hugging a guitar, you’re definitely looking at a fisherman.

I’ve been thinking of writing about this phenomenon for a year or more. Yesterday, I was pushed over the edge. I got an email that I have a new follower. That person or persons is named “Nairobi lesbians.” Here is the Gravatar. The Nairobi lesbians Gravatar has neither photos nor links to a blog. They (or she) seem not to have a blog, so this appears not to be a fishing expedition.

One must conclude that one or more lesbians in Nairobi actually want to keep up with The Unseen Moon. I welcome that. I imagine that being a lesbian in Kenya is challenging, so perhaps I can offer some lightheartedness and political astuteness now and then.

I’m part of a lesbian family. I am intimately acquainted with lesbians. My only sibling is a lesbian. My father’s only sibling was a lesbian. My mother had no siblings, so her side remains a question mark. In short, I know lesbians. I have embraced lesbians often, literally. You might say lesbians are my people.

But I pray the Nairobi lesbians are not related to Barry Obama, a brother Kenyan.

That would be quite disappointing.

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(Note: I always try to  include some photo or artwork on posts that are related to the topic. Nairobi lesbians presented a challenge. I did a Google image search using “Nairobi lesbians” as a keyword and came up with some interesting stuff, but nothing I could display. I opted for some kente cloth. Everybody likes kente cloth.)

(Tomorrow: Beasts breaching the barricades.)

Nine glorious years

WAKING SOME moments during last night’s moonlight, it hit me that I had been writing this stuff for nine years. Amazing.

When you don’t have a job, it’s a good way to give yourself one, even if the salary is nonexistent. And if you live on a mountaintop in the middle of Mexico, it’s a good way to interact with people. I interact with people better online than I do in person, but that’s another issue. In another era, I might have been institutionalized.

NineSo I started just five years after moving south, and now I’ve been down here 14 years. After moving over the Rio Bravo, I spent two years wife-hunting, and that turned out spectacularly well. Then there was almost a year building the Hacienda and getting settled in.

I chilled out about two years more until I noticed Blogger.com and got started. My first website was called a variety of names similar to The Zapata Tales until I settled on The Zapata Tales. People thought I was really nice, and said so.

A lot. They were charmed.

But I always had a bleak side, and it finally came out when I started a second website calledThe Bierce Account. I used The Bierce Account*  to do grimmer stuff. It was fun. The two websites were a split personality.

The Bierce Account could be about anything, but The Zapata Tales was about my life in Mexico. By 2011, I was weary with writing about my life in Mexico because I had been here quite a spell, and the newness had worn off. It was time for new adventures.

I deleted The Bierce Account entirely, and I took The Zapata Tales offline. It’s still floating out there, hidden. And I started this thing that you are reading, The Unseen Moon, which is fact, fiction and opinion stirred in an odd pot.

I prefer the fiction posts** by far, but they don’t come to me so often, so I’m stuck more with fact and opinion. Some people agree with my sharp opinions. Some do not, and get angry. I wish they wouldn’t, but it’s today’s world. Everybody’s in such a dither.

Often I feel I’ve run out of stuff to write, but a few days pass and something shows up. It likely will continue until I die, or somewhere near that date.

For the 10th anniversary next year, maybe I’ll throw a party. Bring gifts.

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* Named after the notoriously cranky, Gringo writer Ambroise Bierce who vanished in Mexico during the 1910 Revolution.

** Examples abound in The Pearls of Zapata.