Unchristmassy Christmas???

Its been over a week since my last update, it's not that i havent had stuff to write about, I AM JUST TOO LAZY TO TYPE! I honestly wouldnt mind a volunteer PA that i could dictate my posts to. Maybe that's what i should ask Santa for instead of my page long wishlist.

Anyways it's the holidays and i'm not feeling Christmassy yet, if i was back in Nig, i would probably have left Lagos for PH, would have sat down with my siblings to snicker at my Mum's "assorted" Christmas decor. At Christmas my house often looks like its been decorated by a schizophrenic dwarf, all that low hanging garish christmas garb. We hardly have the heart to tell my mother they make the house look awful, well sometimes we do and she goes on and on about it being her house and she can decorate it as she pleases, either that or she asks you to buy her a 20grand christmas tree. So we often let that sleeping dog lie.

It's been ages since we had one of those big family christmases, everyone would sleep over and then by 6 we'd be up, the boys freezing drinks, killing the goat and the chicken (threatening the dog too) and the girls washing a ton of rice in this big pot you could cook us all in. For the rest of the day, the house would be like a soup kitchen with people trawling in and out, from neighbours, to family friends, to villagers in town for christmas and before you know it the ton of rice would be gone before we even had a taste. Not that we really minded cos as kids then everybody else's mother's food tasted better than yours or maybe it was just longthroat.

There was this thing my neighbourhood kids used to do, we'd make a list, we used to call it a "promise book", with all we wanted for christmas and then take it round to older people who would sign it either promising to buy something on the list for us or give us some money towards it. Those were the times, now i have decided to compare a typical 8year old Neo promise book with her 25 year old counter part.

7 year old Neo
Hausa Slippers
Barbie Diary
Disco light canvass
Roller skates
Jansport backpack
Toy cooking set S
Darling curls braid (usually to Mother) Mulberry bag

24 year old Neo
500 pound ASOS voucher
Blackberry Storm 2
Samsung 12.2MP camera with smile detection
Converse All Star Light Ox
Lolita Lempicka perfume
14" Brazillian weave

I like to think i havent changed much, just advanced with the times. Lol. You know the best part about my wishlist? Wishes do come true, Santa: I believe!

Anyways i'm spending christmas at my friend's just me, another friend, my friend and her two sisters. Plenty of estrogen abi? My flatmates have all gone to their homes and i miss them, well not so much them as their familiar noises and smells (cigarette smoke in the corridors) We werent the whole "oh-we're-the-best-flatties-ever!" but we did get along. Plus i didnt get to see the Taiwanese guy before he left, hope he sha brings me back some of that pineapple cake he gave me the other time. Anyways i ramble. School is deathly quiet save the now familiar sound of luggage tires rolling along the concrete. Sigh.

This week promises to be fun, its my friends birthday on Tuesday and we have lotsa stuff planned, a trip to seaworld, dinner, paintballing (i hear those things sting like mad, must not get shot!) and ice skating at Hyde Park (i plan to cheer them from the sidelines, last one was not fun! Nothing fun about falling flat on ur ass so many times u start to look feeling on ur cheeks) Details coming soon, but in the very likely event i do not blog before then MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE.

P.S: If you havent, please go see Law Abiding Citizen, my mouth was literally open the entire time. I loved it and not just bcos i got to see Gerard Butlers butt! But oh what a butt!

That Four letter word in Red!

What did you think? Love? Nah, that one doesnt get me as excited as this one. I love a sale. Its not just because its cheaper because for me when i really love something and i can just about squeeze it i'll buy it, instead of stalking the shop to see if it has gone on sale. I love to shop, riffling through sales racks is like a treasure hunt and sometimes you find a real treasure!

I decided to do a post about sale, shopping and (most) women the other day, i was in traffic and just staring out the window when i saw this men's shop doing a massive closing down sale. Everything was 10 pounds and i mean everything and there were huge sale signs everywhere, some of the displays were even outside, i could even see this nice puffer jacket and i was like What!!! Strangely though, the store wasnt that full, there were just a couple of guys milling about, some would stop, look at the display and just continue walking. I couldn't believe it, infact i almost got off the bus just out of loyalty to the big red SALE sign. Why are men so retail-challenged (for lack of a better word)? Dont you feel the thrill from shopping? I even love the anxiety of buyer's remorse cos anytime i feel it, all i have to do is take out those lovely shoes, try them on and do a Beyonce in front of the mirror to remind myself why i fell in love with them in the first place.

Anyways, back to the point, i imagined that this was a store that sold stuff for women on a massive SALE like that. There was traffic on that road right? It wouldnt have compared to the one that would have occured if indeed that had been the case. Women love a SALE, a bargain. We love to buy cheap nice stuff and then gloat about it to the unfortunate ones who were not there to cash in on the action, e.g
Girl A: I love your bag, its so nice
Girl B: *hikes bag higher onto shoulder* Thanks o, i got it on sale for 10
Girl A: *shrieks* It's a lie! 10 ke. Ah B, ur a bad friend o, and you didnt call me
Girl B: But you were writing finals that day now
Girl A: Ehen, so? I could have finished earlier

Lol! Ok maybe i exaggerated that a tad, but you catch my drift. Anyways i'm stuck here for Christmas so i plan to make the most of it. After a nice Christmas dinner with my fellow unfortunately-i'm-here-for-Christmas friends, i plan to retire to bed early, wake up promptly by 5am Boxing day and be on Oxford Circus by 6am. Yes, laugh all you want now, you wont be laughing when i'm sporting my new threads, hehehe. Plus i need the retail therapy to help me get over the depressing thoughts of missing Christmas with my family (who would be cruel enough to deny me that?)

In other news, i've been trying to get a holiday job for a while now,(all those stuff wont pay for themselves) i went for an interview at Abercrombie and Fitch yesterday and that in itself was an experience. The store is tucked away in one obscure corner and it took my friend and I, 30 minutes to find it. First there was no advertising whatsoever, my friend actually pointed out this place with a lot of people in the foyer, including one semi naked man! I was like "yeah right, does that look like a store?" How wrong was I! That was the place. We went inside and it was like a club, complete with dim lighting, loud music and tons of people and i was like "seriously?" They use models instead of mannequins which i think is pretty cool cos a mannequin cant tell you about the merchandise they're displayin plus some of those things are really scary. Anyways there were just a lot of hot, young, blonde men some of whom were missing a shirt.

I finally found the office and went for my interview. My friend and i were looking all "i'm-professional-you-should-hire-me" and everyone else was in flannel shirt and jeans. I started to feel like a royal family secretary with a stick up her ass! Honestly those people have hit the jackpot, with no media advertising whatsoever, the staff is basically it. Why spend millions on advertising when you can pay a bunch of college kids minimun wage to do it for you and it works. You shoulda seen the number of girls in that store! Lol.

On my mind

Lately i've had a lot on my mind and today i made the desicion to stop worrying about the things i cannot change (such as other people) and change the things i can (me) Very few people understand me and even those who do, do not fully comprehend me. I like to think that i am not a complicated person, in fact i have convinced myself that i am as simple as a 5 year old's artwork and it's everyone else around me that can be likened to a Michelangelo painting, in other words my simplicity is a complexity in a world of complexity (if that makes any sense) This might end up being a bit of a rant (indulge me please)

I am this bubbly, class clown persona, the one that can mimic everyone else and make people laugh but a lot of people fail to realise that first and foremost that's not the person i am. I like to make people laugh but i am still the one that just wants to sit quietly sometimes and take in the world and those moments should not be shattered simply because you're wondering why my jester's cap is not on. I love silence and my solitude sometimes and in this crazy city the best i can get is those precious moments when i'm alone in my room. I miss Enugu (i went to law school there) The campus was huge with a lot of open spaces and trees and sometimes i would just take walks with my iPod in my ears and sing as loud as my voice would allow. It was such a release and i havent had one of those in ages.

I hate to be put in a box, i try not to put others in a box so the least i expect from others is the same. Do not friggin put me in a box. Just because i went to Unilag doesnt mean i should wear my knickers on my head and dance on table tops. Sheesh! Generalization is the worst form of ignorance i tell you and i cant stick it, i wont say i've been completely innocent of this but i make a conscious effort not to generalize.

I hate it when people think they know everything and have an opinion on everything, a suggestion for how everything should be done.

I hate it when people don't learn from their mistakes and live their lives in that vicious cycle and in seeming oblivion, I'm like "when are you going to wake up?" Don't you friggin recognize that this is the same track you've been on and it has only one destination. Short of living your life for you, i don't know what else i can do. If you want to dangle you finger over the self destruct button i choose not to be collateral damage.

So this is who i am, as my friend would say "U don see me finish, i no remain for house" No facades. Take it or facking leave it.

Wow, i feel so much better already!

Broody

So i have finally found my voice, got my writing mojo back. Thanks to everyone who commented on my post, ur kind words really helped. I had to start playing crossword puzzles again in the hopes that words would start jumping out at me again (i cheated sha, used an online thesarus.lol. But i'm getting better)


On to the issue at hand, as you may have guessed from the blog title and picture i have been feeling very broody lately, i want to have a baby. As in seriously, i stare longingly at babies everyday, random babies in the street, on the bus, in the supermarket. I even smile and coo at them till their paranoid mothers hastily push their buggies away. I see babies everywhere and this is not helping matters at all. Sometimes i want to stand in the street and stomp my feet till someone pities me and hands me one. I wish it were that simple. I love babies and i have looked after so many babies in my life that i'm so surprised i even have enough love for my future babies. I was 8 when my first niece was born and i quickly relocated to my sister's house and displaced Mumc from her omugwo (Ibo peeps hope i got it right)By the time i was 9 i could change diapers and bathe a baby as young as 3 months, i could make the formula, feed and burp the baby and at a point i was the only one who could make my nephew sleep. By age 12 i had gained the title of favourite Aunty as i never ate my provisions in boarding school but took them back home for my batallion (This also gained me the title of stingiest Junior girl) By the time i was in university i had a total of 11 nieces and nephews, at a point my sister traveled on courses and left me to take care of her 4month old son. So now i blame all these children who made me fall in love with them and then grew up into young men and women that wont even hug me anymore (apparently its embarrassing)

Now i roam the streets lusting after strange babies in buggies, each time i walk into a store i even browse through the children's department and look through the clothes, mentally dressing up my little girl and her brother. I think how those shoes would look good on her and how i'd braid her hair and put those coloured beads in them and then seconds later i think i'm going gaga.

Today there was this woman on the bus with her daughter who was about 4 years old and they sat there opposite me and talked about their respective days. I couldnt help eavesdropping, Mother said she hates Mondays cos she's always so tired at the end of the day but Daughter loves Mondays cos she has PE at school. Then Daughter showed Mother the sticker she got at school for good behaviour and in that moment i swear i almost cried. There was this strong longing inside me and just then i wanted what they had, that bond, that easy and natural conversation. I know motherhood is not all pink roses and blue clouds, i waited in the hospital as my sister went through 2 days of labour, i've rocked babies to sleep at 2am at night when my body was screaming for sleep, i've worried about sick babies who looked so helpless and couldnt tell you what was wrong, i've also had my share of bratty babies and the mess they make but i still want it all. All of it, the whole experience cos that's part of what makes it so special and the bond so strong. To have a person that is literally a part of you, a person that you brought into the world and are responsible for, a person that would evoke the strongest feelings you would ever feel.



This feeling comes and goes mostly, i know i love children and cant wait to meet mine (9 months is long sha o) but sometimes, like now, its such a strong feeling. I also worry that i'll be one of those women that love their kids more than they love their husband or even worse those women who want a husband just so they can have kids but then i convince myself that i'd love my husband in a different way, i'd love him more because without him i wouldnt have such perfect kids but then i think again, what if armed robbers came to the house and said i should choose between my husband and kids. Of course i'd choose my husband, he loves us and that's what he'd want me to do. lol.
You probably think i'm nuts right, don't worry i think i'm nuts too. it's probably all the hormones from being broody.

Purging

I haven't been able to write anything meaning for a while now, i try and when i look at the words i just give up. Maybe it's some kind of blogger's blog but its even affected my fiction and the notes i take in class. I've never been that student that gets the teacher word for word so i try to reproduce what they have said in my own words but lately i find that the words have been hard to come by. It's been hell, like i've lost my voice again, only this time its a voice that matters much more than the voice that comes out of my mouth.

School is getting stressful, dont get me wrong i didn't come into this whole thing with an idea that doing a masters under a scholarship would be a walk in the park but its been harder than i thought. I'm struggling with one particular class that's so advanced. I mean there are people here that practiced tax law for 15 years before taking this class and there's me who did some tax research for a tax paper my boss presented and thought "hey this is interesting i should do international tax law" Sometimes i feel i'd have been better off studying latin than that class. I know i shouldn't hate a course or the way it's taught or anything cos it'll affect my mindset but i cant help it. The best i can do though is put in some extra work in that area.

Plus i've been looking for part time work and its been unproductive thus far, i mean a lawyer wanting to work as an office administrator or receptionist should be a breeze nes pas? not so! In fact no leads and i'm seriously getting tired. How the else am i supposed to know if staying back here after my degree is in the cards for me if i cant save up enough money to have that option? Besides even if i am going home at the end of the day, am i supposed to return like the broke prodigal son? Honestly i tire and i havent even started.

I just needed to release all the concerns i have, maybe if i let them out i'll feel better, maybe seeing them in words will put things in perspective. Which was why i needed this purging.

Letter to Jasper

If you know you promised to stop reading my blog to allow me freely express myself , kindly stop here. You know yourself, there is no reason to read the blog, i am only 100yards away and available for the exclusive.

Dear Jasper,
I miss you. Everything that i feel is summarised in those 3 words.

I miss the dreams of a future with you and the feeling of being that lucky one that could say i married my first love.
I miss talking about what our house would look like or how many kids we'd have and argue about what we'd call them.
I miss taking care of you when you're sick even though your whining used to irritate me.
I miss going to the movies with you and laughing when you'd call me a cheap date cos I didnt want to go to fancy restaurants.
I miss smiling at you across the room as our eyes shared secrets others would never know.
I miss you cooking for me and pretending to love the meal you made even though that one time the stew tasted like oil and salt.
I miss how you never forgot anything i said and how you used to surprise me.
I miss touching your head and teasing you about your baby soft scalp.
I miss you teaching me drive and even managing to smile that time i hit the bottom of the car so hard on the speed breaker.
I miss you jumping on a plane and surprising me at home.
I miss missing you when we were apart.
I miss you holding me in that way that told everyone "this is my woman".
I miss you holding my hand whenever you were driving.
I miss you telling me that i didnt have to gain weight that you liked me the way i was.
I miss loving you.

But i also blame you
I blame you for not changing the little things that mattered to me
I blame you for not working hard enough at getting the life you wanted for us
I blame you for not being the man that i know you can be
I blame you for letting me let you go
I blame you for letting me go and then wanting me back
I blame you for letting me love you and the pain it caused me to let you go
I blame you because it just hit me that you may not be my forever

This is what i wish i could say to you, each time we talk but instead we talk about school and the weather and how we're doing. I wish i could tell you that i have let you go, that i want to love someone else, that i want my heart to race again, that i want to conjure an image other than yours and smile.

I wish i could tell you that i want to relish the butterflies in my tummy and the smile that tugs the sides of my mouth when i see him because it reminds me that my heart is still there and that it does something other than beat, it lets me know that I can feel something again, for someone else, that i can love again, if i allow myself. If i let go.

Insomnia!

Its past 2am and i just "woke" up. Can i even say that when technically i never went to sleep. Just lay there in the dark coughing my lungs out. Everything hurts! I want my Mommy. This all so alien to me, i hardly get coughs and now i'm hacking every five seconds. It wasn't so bad when the cold started, at least i could sleep, but it all just went bad this night. I'm so saaaaaaaaaaaad cos i really really really want to sleep. I could cry right now and i dont have anyone to whine to, i'm sure the coughing is keeping my flatties awake but it just wont let up. I've tried everything i know, i even did the whole crushed garlic mixed with honey bit (yeeeuch!)I've almost o'd on a bottle of cough mix. I'm so so frustrated cos i hate this feeling of helplessness. Damn this stupid country and their stupid viruses! Yet they worry about stuff like malaria, would take malaria over this anyday, at least with malaria all i do is sleep. omg i jus yawned. This is serious punishment o. I even tried to call the out of hours helpline and they were referring me to the National Pandemic line. It's not swine flu you eejit! I wish i had valium or something honestly...sigh. Hmn okay i just called the out of hours service and they will be "phoning me back" it is now 2:15am.......

.....cough....cough....cough...ouch. This would be funny if it werent so saaaaaad. Now i'm laughing. Okay the GP called at 2:25. Not bad, at least if it were an emergency maybe i wouldnt have died. He sounded Ibo sef..lol. Reminded me of the "Chemist" on my street in PH. I almost asked him if he was Nigerian but the cough no gree me. He said i should go sit in the bathroom and turn on the hot water taps and let the steam clear my airways. Hmn...didnt sound like doctorly advice. My mother could have told me that. I kinda expected him to say "I'm sending some meds over, the Nurses will push 15 ccs of Lorezapam into ur system" Too much Greys Anatomy abi? Honestly i would have felt more reassured, than this going to sit in the bathroom matter. Is the cough not punishment enough already. Plus he said i got the wrong cough mix, apparently i need the one with codeine (ironically that was the one i picked first o, then i saw the cheaper Vicks one...lol. It wasnt only the price o, that one was flying off the shelves apparently, well now i think about it maybe it was flying off the shelves cos it was cheaper) Hmn.

Okay so i'm off to sit in the bathroom for 30 minutes...serious punishment. Thank you blogger for being there for me when no one else was. Gosh i need a boyfriend! If i had one i would have woken him up and whined from here to Antartica! I miss Bee, anyways even if we were still together, he would wake up if he were inside Big Ben and it struck 12!

Bathroom beckons. Updates later!

Swine Flu Scare, Araromire and Wings Nite!

Hmn, another blog about 3 random things. I'm getting good at this.

Ok, swine flu first. You know in Nig, with the swine flu scare we just used to be laidback and all, after all na oyinbo pple dey carry all this exotic diseases. I remember when it was "mad cow disease" and then "bird flu" How many of u actually stopped eating beef or chicken? Infact most pple ate them more cos it was cheaper. Basketmouth even made a joke about it, he was all like we cant have mad cow disease in Nig cos those Abokis used to flog the cows all the way from Kano to Lagos, watever madness they had would've definitely left them from all that flogging!Anyways swine flu was never an issue for me back then, but now whenever i'm on the bus or a train and someone so much as sniffles, i start shifting. I even carry a hand sanitizeer in my bag and use it as often as possible. So you can imagine how my heart started to race a coupleof days ago as i was discovering the beginnings of that warning itch in my throat. People it wasnt funny o, especially when i started coughing cos i hardly catch coughs even when i have a cold, plus it probably didnt help matters seeing as i am a bit of a hypochondriac. Kia kia i went to check my symptoms on the swine flu pandemic site and out of like 10 symptoms i was exhibiting more than half. I was so scared, like hey, this people will soon come and put yellow tape across my door and quarantine me and be wearing space suit to shove meals and drugs through my door. It did not help matters when my friend from Dundee told me about a Nigerian girl who had caught the thing and lovingly passed it to her boyfriend and both of them are still lovingly sharing their viruses under quarantine. Na real for better for worse, in sickness and health o! Anyways me i dont think i have swine flu sha, i have bought myself some nice Lemsip and have been downing tea like the first queen who made Earl Grey the new pink! Since i have convinced myself that i so not have the dreaded flu i also noticed my "symptoms" have started reducing, except for my new husky voice which i quite like esp the double take when people call me, like "Ehm...hello...can i speak to Neo?" I swear if i had a bf i would so have a field day with this. Hehehehehe

Secondly, a bunch of us are going to see the premiere of a Nigerian movie The Figurine tomorrow and i so so hope that my expectations would not be cut short cos we've been planning it all week and i have gingered a lot of people to go so now i have started to feel responsible for ensuring that they all have fun. See me see wahala, how do i get myself into these things, I have become the mother hen of the whole thing, people keep calling me to ask how far with tickets? How are we goin? When are we goin? I tire o! Maybe i will be doing headcount by tomorrow nite. Of which a good friend of mine from Nig is around and i invited him and he was like lai lai, how can i pay 10 pounds to go see a movie that they sell for 150naira on the road. I get his point sha, chai I miss home o! I no lie u.

Lastly, it was wings nite yesterday at the bar in school. I hardly go there cos its usually tons of undergrads probably puking all over the place but as i loooooooove chicken wings nothin could have kept me away. My friends and i ordered a modest 20 wings and Coke, though i ate like half of the wings. There were these two guys beside us who had 50 wings between two of them, and if u see how these skinny oyinbos masticated the wings ehn, i swear the souls of those chickens can never rest in peace. They even had a pitcher of their weak ass beers each (i'm no connoisseur on beer o, i have a reliable informant sha) Speaking of beer, soem Chinese dude in the flat next to mine had a party and got so wrecked that he puked in front of my friend's door b4 he passed out. I was so happy to hear that the next morning the cleaner made him clean it under her supervision. I mean what did he expect? Someone else to clean his puke?

Anyways Thursday chicken wings nite have officially become my best night. Yay! Something to look forward to at least.

Okay, jus took Night lemsip and i think it has started working, so goodnight. Forgive any typos pls!

On Being a Christian

I've been inspired to do a blog on my faith for a while now, but i think i got the much needed push a couple of days back...

It all started with the Bus 25 again! After i solemnly vowed not to go on that bus again, see it was all Scribbles fault o! Anyways i got on the bus again headed home and this time it was a ...for lack of a better word..religious fanatic. He had this huge ghana-must-go bag with all his paraphernalia in it, placards and stuff. Now Oxford Circus to Mile End is roughly 30-45 mins and this man did not shut it for the entire journey. He was going on and on about free masons, dogs and the queen.He said they had killed some guy named Mark Quinsey feel free to google. Mark Quinsey was a soldier shot dead by IRA gunmen outside the army barracks in North Ireland, he was due to return to the Afghan war the next day. His family descibed it as an irony that he was killed on UK soil, I agree. Anyways i didnt know anything about Mark Quinsey till i heard the "prophet" on the bus.

He was quite hilarious frankly, he said the queen was a witch, a serial killer, that she killed 100 people in a year. I nearly fainted when he said people who didnt wear coats in this weather were practicing spiritual wickedness cos they wanted to control the minds of others so that they wouldnt dress warmly. He had a lot against the Free masons ( i no no wetin dem do am o!) called them dogs that would burn in hell. He also talked about Madoff who "made of with people's money" and Adam Levine who was "living with people's money" The pun is entirely his, by the way. My friend's and I had a laugh after we got of the bus, but long after that it still had me thinking.

They say that there is some truth in the ramblings of a mad or drunken man. There was a lot of truth in what that guy had to say but much of it had been buried under a burning hatred, misguided passion and i dare say mild lunacy! He was what some would call a "fire and brimstone preacher" Change, repent or go to hell.

I was born and raised a Christian but my beginnings were not so clearcut. My Dad was a staunch Anglican, we went to church at 8am and stayed till 12noon cos he sat through the English service and one in my native language. He donated generously towards the harvest and building fund, so much so that they used to beat my brother and I in the junior church cos they were so certain Chief had given us more than 5 naira for offering (they were right though!)My Mum was a Catholic who later went pentecostal, actually so did my Dad a couple of years later when he suffered a stroke and often woke up at night to find out that the group of people praying around his bed were from my mother's church and not his.

As a child, in church i was at the forefront, in the choir, choreography, drama and all, but mostly it was because i loved the spotlight. I have been a person of faith for so long now, what i am not so sure about was whether it was myself i believed in or if it was God. I always had this calm confidence that i would get those things that were important to me, especially as far as my education was concerned. I didnt fret about exams or other things that should have made me anxious. I do not know exactly when i made the transition to a person that has so much faith in God on the other hand i think, maybe i have always been that person.

Dont get me wrong, i am far from perfect in my walk with God, i'm not the girl that sits in the front row of church or falls under the spirit every Sunday but my relationship with God is clear. He loves me, completely in this way that amazes me, that makes me wonder if i'm worthy, that breaks my heart every time i fail HIm, because i know that He is the only one that sees all of me, not just the side i want to show and yet He still loves me. I constantly crave a complete connection with God cos thats the only time i feel truly secure. How do i know this? I'm alive, in good health, food on my table, clothes on my back, studying under a scholarship at one of UK's top 15 law schools.

How do i know that its God, not just some coincidence to have been blessed this way? I just do, there's a strong conviction inside of me, something that is so hard to explain, something that i wish i could share with the rest of the world and this brings me back to my point, the man on the bus. He believes in what he was saying with all of his heart, so much that he risks questions to his sanity to shout it out in a bus full of about 200 people (or more!) So then i think maybe he's not crazy, maybe we are all looking at the same thing from different angles and seeing it differently. I think we all just need something to believe in, and for most of us its a struggle to explain the basis for our beliefs. In all this what scares me the most is that there are people out there that dont believe in anything, how do they get by???

MY GAYMOMETER, THE BOBBIT AND A MILD CASE OF OCD

This is going to be a very organised random post about mainly three things, anything else wouldn't fit into the title and would totally mess up my zen!

First, the gaymometer. I invented this device like 2 or 3 weeks ago, precisely when it dawned on me that i would be living in this freezer for the next year (or more)Anyways sitting on the tube or the bus can be so boring at times (at least in Nigeria you could buy anything ranging from gala to an LCD TV in traffic)so i decided to invent the gaymometer. What the gaymometer does is to measure any random guy on a scale of 1 to 10 on his gayness level. It started this one day when i saw a guy on the bus in tights (manty hose) a knit dress, knee-high lace up boots and the cherry on the cake, a patent bag. Instead of thinking about the tax class i was running late for, i started analysing what category he fell into, was he gay, tranny, psycho or what. I mean gay men are usually meticulous (the ones i want to be my best friend, in the style of Will & Grace at least) and that knit dress was way too shabby, so i just concluded he was either a tranny, a psycho or a psycho tranny. Since then the gaymometer was born! It's actually fun using it, i give a point for anything patent leather, shoes or bags, 2 points for a man-bag! Ultra-skinny jeans get 2 points, 1 point for slick, nicely put together hair, another for eyeliner and recently eyelash extensions! I hear that is all the rage now. Oooh and my personal favourite, a crisp shirt with an argyle sweater tied loosely around the neck. I mean that is gayer than Carson from the Fab Five.

Second random, you know those thingies people put up on the dashboard in their cars, maybe like baseball stars, with a skinny body and a huge head that just keeps bobbing up and down? Anyways i call them bobbits and i've seen a life size one. It was my Commercial law class and i sat next to this babe that kept nodding at every sentence the teacher made. I mean, i get it that sometimes you totally agree with or can identify with something your teacher says and then you nod your assent. Well this babe nodded at every thing and i mean EVERYTHING. Even when the teacher said we might need to change venues, she kept nodding till i started to feel sorry for her, i mean those were some vigorous nods. Now anytime i see her the word "bobbit" just pops in my head. Hope i dont call her that one day!

Last but definitely not least. Hi, my name is Neo and i have an obsessive compulsive disorder, albeit a mild one. I'm not as bad as people who count steps or turn on and off lights a certain number of times. I dont carry plastic cutlery in my bag cos i cant use the ones at the takeout place. I dont scrub my bathroom floor with lysol everytime i have to take a bath. My OCD is a very mild one, some of the things it makes me do include the following:
1. I like the front of everything facing out, like my cereal box, how the hell am i supposed to know its Frosties, if its turned the other way, right?
2. I cant stand cancelling a word or sentence in my notebook, if i do it just stares at me and picks at me, till i've torn out that page and done it all over again. Sometimes it may be my writing that picks at me.
3. I fold my clothes in a particular way and put them away blunt side facing me, no layers (which is why i knew that the cleaning lady had looked through my african print clothes!)
4. I cant stand using a toothbrush without a hygeine cap, sometimes i buy really crappy toothbrushes just for the hygeine caps and then use them on my good brushes.
5, This is probably the strongest of them all, I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT SHARE THE SAME SPOON FOR CEREAL OR GARRI WITH ANYONE! Not my boyfriend (whom i constantly excahnge oral fluids with btw) or my closest friends or my 11 month old newphew who slobbers baby spit all over my face! I can share a spoon for rice and anything else that doesnt consist of 80% of water. It just seems like the person would be rinsing their...arrrgh! You get the point. This was such an issue for my ex, who thot maybe i didnt love him enough to get over my "little phobia"

The list is much longer but i'll stop here before i start to realise maybe its not so mild afterall. I do have this friend though that will fold all her clothes all over again if you so much as touch them! See i'm not so bad after all!

The Evil that is Bus 25!

Ever heard the saying “be careful what you wish for”? Well someone could say that to me now, but I still wouldn’t mind cos even tho this isnt exactly what I wished for, I’m still loving it. I love whining about money, and complaining about how expensive everything is, I love trying to plan a budget and then absolutely ignoring it when those lovely shoes seem to be screaming my name. I love being able to eat what I want anytime I want.

It’s week three in London and I’m still going strong, I mean the last time I was here 10 days couldn’t end sooner, but this phase of my life marks the beginning of my independent life and I’d sooner choke than say I preferred my old life (at least for now) I’m all settled in, past the phase of buying silver pots that turn black when hot (I have since convinced myself that it is some sort of technology that tells you when the pot is really hot but I still pray a long prayer before I eat anything cooked in it, I’ve seen way too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy) and irons that you could leave on your shirt, take a shower and come back to finish your ironing. What can I say, it’s the student life. I put up a notice on my pin board to remind me NO MORE CHEAP STUFF. Isn’t it ironic how I’m willing to skint on the basics but when it comes to clothes and shoes, no holds barred. Even considering the fact that I’m supposed to use the 3 pound iron to iron a 35 pound shirt…geez okay that’s a question for my therapist.

I have also been well acquainted with the evil (on is it 8 wheels now) that is called the Bus 25, this bus runs down my road and can get me to my classes and my favourite place in London, Oxford Circus! However, it is a rolling advertisement for every freakshow in London, see now the last thing I can be labeled as is rascist (I mean I am willing to marry a whitie for the sake of my future half caste babies) but that bus seems to draw out everything that should stay underground. This particular day my friends and I decided to go to Stratford Shopping Centre cos there’s this store that sells Nigerian foodstuff (I mean right down to our breakable bottled Fanta!) Immedaitely we got on the bus we were assailed by this stench that would make even the strongest cologne flee from the body of its wearer. I mean it was undescribeable, think of every bad smell you can think of, mix them up and it still wouldn’t smell that bad. It was awful and I noticed half of the people in the bus had their heads hidden in their clothes. I was tempted to get off at the next stop but decided to hold out cos our stop was just up ahead. As usual the bus was so full that there was no need to hold on to the bars, each person’s body was a support system for the next person, it was like some kind of garage band dance, grunging, I think they call it. Anyways as soon as someone got off his seat, feeling like a sharp Naija babe I jumped on it. I noticed my friend was giving me some weird look but I couldn’t figure out why, till I heard him. Oh Lawd! I was sitting next to the harbinger of the smell, he was a BUM!!! Drunk as hell and as stinky as Satan’s curse! I jumped off the chair and tried to make my way to the front of the bus but there was no safe place from that smell. A couple of people fell victim and sat next to him but none lasted a full minute, the guy could have taken a nap across two seats if he wanted. When we got off it was like swimming under water and then surfacing for air, I thought my lungs would burst. We bitched about it for a while, my friend said no way that could happen in Naija, a bum wanting to enter a bus or even molue? Even if the conductor let him on, the passengers would throw him right out. Here, I’m sure they even have one law like The Protection of Bums, Destitute People and Bag Ladies from all forms of Discrimination 1809 and if you so much as turned up your nose at him, na that time the sepe go clear from the guy eye and next thing you’re before Lord Mansfield trying to explain why legal proceedings should not be commenced against you.

On all other fronts, I’m doing well. Will soon commence OPERATION MARRY ONYIBO MAN FOR THE SAKE OF MY FUTURE HALF CASTE BABIES. (me sef no say i no well)

Resurfacing

I was going to apologise for being MIA but then i realised i wasnt the only one and that i wasn't missed so i've decided to save my apology for my next big screw up. Wow, i cant blive its been only 2 weeks, it feels like years since i was last year and i have really really really missed blogging. Well a lot has changed and apparently studying for a masters in law is not beans o! I have had a hectic month from preparations to travel, settling down and all. In fact my story long well well. I will have to sit down and dedicate one weekend to a 2page blog.

So look forward to it.

Ciao!!!

21 random Things.....

1. I actually typed the heading first so lets see if i can make it to 21!

2. My bestie (B-girl) got engaged today and it was sooooooooo romantic and i actually cried (well aside form the smoke from the barbeque getting in my eyes, i was pretty emotional) She was just bawling her eyes out and she held her man like she would never let go. it was satisfying watching them seeing as her fiance(oooooh fiance!) and I have been planning the perfect proposal for months. We had 4 tshirts made with the words WILL YOU MARRY ME? He wore the ME? of course, and when we popped out she just lost it! So raise a glass to B-girl and S!

3. I kissed my ex at the party.

4. I leave for London at 8:05pm tomorrow and i still have a ton of stuff to do

5. its 1:20am and i'm fagged out but cant sleep.

6. I'm worrying that my suitcases weigh far more than the measly 40kg i'm entitled to.

7. Now i'm thinking maybe 21 was too ambitious.

8. I think what i'll miss most is Nigerian food and i'm bummed i didnt get to eat starch and banga soup before i leave.

9. I wonder if my new FB friend is gay and likes me.

10. I wonder what my flatmates are like and pray none is psycho enough to slit my throat in the middle of the night.

11. Just read Ms Dufa's last post and the picture of Chucky (the evil doll in Childs Play) is still freakin me out, like any minute ill hear ade-doo-dee-demdeleba- give-me-the-power-i-beg-of-you!"

12. I should take a shower.

13. The LAN connection on my laptop is messed up so i'm hoping i can get wireless in my room.

14. I wonder if i'm all talk or whether i can actually date a white guy (i can do it for my kids o, fine half caste babies)

15. I already miss the crazy half of my family in Ptown.

16. Wow, i still have 5 to go?

17. I expected the "new guy"to call but he didnt. No points for that.

18. My ex still loves me. how do i know? well he said it like 10 thousand times today, me? how do i put this...in simplest terms ï dont know"and that cant be a good sign.

19. I need a bath and sleep, maybe i should kill two birds with one stone and sleep in the tub.

20. Not looking forward to the looooooooong flight, on the bright side after tomorrow i can always say i've been to Dubai (the airport definitely counts)

21. I've missed Blogger!

SEE ME SEE WAHALA O!

Okay brace yourself for an early morning rant (its no longer morning, those demon pipo in PHCN have been holding the light all day). Before I start I must apologise for my last post, that semi-comprehensible mumbo jumbo that I posted yesterday. I was definitely under the influence…of what now? That, I am yet to discover.

It’s Saturday and my day started at 7am, you see I am not fortunate enough to belong to one of those households that permit the luxury of a Saturday morning lie-in. No way hose, as my niece would say. I wake up at 7am on a Saturday morning and everybody is staring at me like they would like to meet the Prince Charming that woke Sleeping Grumpy from her 8-hour slumber. It’s no joke o! My nephews and niece wake up between 4am and 5am mostly but on weekdays now that is a different story. I think they just enjoy wasting time and making me late for work (well that no longer matters seeing as I am currently “taking some down time” haha I dubbed that from the last Marian Keyes I read. It’s code for I got canned, I don’t have a job. In my case I canned the job though for another kind of work…school) Plus, this Saturday I know that I will not enjoy the luxury of resting the day away. The new house-help we got received news yesterday that her Dad had died. Permit me to digress at this point, some people can be so insensitive, the dude that called to tell her ended up speaking to me, he was more concerned about his credit and was like “just tell her the father has died and tomorrow is the burial” and before I could say “hold on and talk to her” he was gone. I was now left with the unsavoury task of breaking the news to the girl who unfortunately wasn’t feeling well that morning. The guy was so insensitive, I mean I get it’s not your father but that is potentially upsetting news that you DO NOT drop like that. Reminds me of this time in Uni, I had this roommate called Phil (Philomena, not a man roomie o!) she was this perky girl (had a boyfriend called Moses and used to sing this funny song about doing everything without complaining) Anyway one morning she got a call on her really bad Chinese handset that was really loud so almost everyone could hear the caller on the other end. The person just went “Oya, Phil start to dey come house, your mama don die” Phil just lost it, she ran out of the room in her underwear screaming and it took several hours to calm her down. I mean what did the caller expect? That she’d say “oh ok I’m on my way” Things are just not done that way, he could have asked her to come home and then told her when she was at home. So in this case I just asked the girl if she had heard about her dad and she was like, “no what happened?” Then I asked her if she had the number for the guy that brought her, she did so I asked her to call him. I just couldn’t be the one to tell her and I didn’t have any details. Anyways she had to leave for Cotonou this morning for the burial at 4pm. I’m not sure she has eaten since yesterday, she said she can’t eat pepper till he is buried. I didn’t know that.

On the flip side I have assumed her duties as nanny/cook/cleaner and barely 3 hours in, I wish this was one time I could tell the “boss” to shove it. Okay please analyze this, my sister went to New Jersey for her vacation and checked her cholesterol level and apparently the result is that we all have to suffer. She says no adult should eat more than one egg in a week! Imagine, so I had to make a healthy breakfast for her husband. So I did, I fried one egg minus the yolk (so like a Ferrari without wheels) some baked beans, one hotdog sausage and two slices of wheat bread. The man took one look at it and said lailai he was not going down that road and conscripted me to make him a proper sandwich with one egg, yolk and all in it. In the process my sis came into the kitchen and asked me who it was for, I told her and she was like “I told you no egg with yolk” I told her he said that was what he wanted and that he wasn’t going on any watch your cholesterol diet. She was now like “Ehn if he gets sick, whether you’re married with kids or not you will come and look after him.” I was so pissed at that statement. Which one come consine me, ehn? Did they come and consult me when they wanted to marry, so which one una come put me inside matter? If you want your husband on some special diet then please do it yourself. Am I supposed to be dictating to a 40 something year old man what he can and cant eat, abeg o! I never marry. I want to fight with my own husband not another person’s own. So that’s it, I’ve been in a bad mood since then and I hate it when people upset you and then try to stylishly get back in your good graces without actually apologizing. (well she is now back in my good graces sha though she still didnt apologise, if a member of my family apologised for something i think i'd have a cardiac)

So that’s how I started the morning, plus I’m disappointed bcos I was supposed to be leave Lag for PH to see my folks before I travel in two weeks and I cant go bcos I have some business at the bank that I couldn’t conclude on Friday.

Plus, I’ve just told my ex that right now the chances of us getting back together are zero to nil. I told him I saw the stalker at his bday bbq and that I wasn’t okay with that. He said all the things he was supposed to say, how they aren’t really friends, how she just stopped by, he didn’t know, how she even came with her boyfriend. It didn’t make a difference cos like I told him she isn’t the issue. He is, how can you be trusted to make the big changes if you can’t make the little ones? Why is it so hard to ostracize someone that stalked the woman you claim to love, or quit smoking or at least try to or heck even pretend to. It hurts right now cos maybe this is it, just like that my The One has just become One of Them.

Plus i jus met this nice guy with huge potential, so it sucks that i'm leaving in 2 weeks for school when he just got back like 2 weeks ago (talk about bad timing) Hmn since i have mentioned him here he is never getting this link!

Check out Vee’s blog on www.moarsblog.blogspot.com. I have vowed that if it doesnt have 30 followers by the end of next month, i'm pulling the plug o! Call it blackmail, if you like it tell a friend muhahaha *evil laugh*

Status : Unemployed

Yep u read it right.

Neo is currently unemployed and i wish i had a more interesting reason for being currently unemployed. Like maybe i had just had enough and told The Man to shove it where the sun dont shine. Sadly no, i actually resigned my job at a law firm about 2 weeks ago and stopped last month. No, i dont have a better job (read better paying)

I'm actually going back to school, (gee i say back like i'm repeating a class or like i left yonks ago) Well i'm actually going for my masters and looking forward to it. Not so much the prospect of living alone in a different country (that has got its perks seeing as i had started a movement to decolonize my life) but truly because i love school! the irony of this fact can only be appreciated by my mother who had to drag me out of bed every morning for the 8 years of my rudimentary education. When i was in Law school i was in my element, is it weird that i totally love to read. Okay well at the time i dont love love it o, but i miss it when its gone. I'm a dork abi? i know

Okay its getting really annoying typing this on the PC at home (no router so i cant use my lappie) the keyboard is acting up, so please forgive any prior shelling, i have not been visited by the spirit of Rita, its the damn keyboard that is doing demon!

Does this count as an update? very jumbled i know plus i'm chatting with Aki (my latest bestie!) who is now in Dundee (yes now we planned it) Gosh i'm ruining my writing chops with this horrible post. Please any first timers, if you managed to get to this point i'm not usually like this. if u need proof check out my fictional blog www.moarsblog.blogspot.com.

It took me 3 hours to type this so anyhoos i'm posting. Chai! maybe i'm drunk afterall it is Friday night! Woo hoo!

VEE'S Blog

HiLo!

Vee's Blog is up and running. You can check it out now, http://moarsblog.blogspot.com.

Tell a friend.

Cheers.

Neo!

MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH CHUKWUMA

Good people of Blogsville, I have two announcements to make. I have decided to start a blog for the fictional Dr. Vee. In true fashion it will be called Memoirs of a Reluctant Socialite, but I swear if she starts getting more attention than I do, I’ll murder that baby!!!

Okay back to the, okay wait o, I said two announcements but for the life of me I cannot remember what the second one was, it comes with having the attention span of a 2yr old! If I remember I will tell you. Now back to the issue for the day.

I have decided to tell you about my love affair with Chukwuma (hereinafter referred to as Chuks) Chuks and I started this love affair late last year, around December. You see my sister and her husband tried to hook me up with Chuks but they wanted supervisory rights and I just wasn’t ready for all that. Abeg, old mama like me? Anyways I couldn’t hold out for too long, so whenever we were alone Chuks and I would go out for a quick one. These clandestine trips were so intoxicating, a la sex alfresco but we both knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. We knew all the repercussions should we get caught. Besides Chuks was getting tired of being my little secret. He wanted us to come out and so I said ok but we have to make everything right. I must confess I did all the work o, spent all the money. Chuks wasn’t all that o! Still I didn’t complain I was happy to. I played by all the “rules” and by March Chuks and I debuted officially as an item!

This would be a safe point to tell you that Chuks is a 2001 Limited Edition Peugeot 306. Yes I agree, I am not well, I am not serious, I am mad and all the other stuff you are thinking, but there is no better way to describe my relationship with my car.

Chuks has been there for me o, he saved me from those Boko Haramists that are parading themselves as okada riders and slowly killing all the people foolish enough to embrace western education. He saved me from having “unofficial drivers” and for giving me road independence. He is my outlet and when its just me and Chuks against a thousand mile stretch of tar, I swear its pure bliss. He doesn’t even complain when I decide to take out my frustrations by riding him too hard. Like today just because I wasn’t in the mood for traffic I made him take this route that isn’t good for him, Chuks has been tryin to tell me for a while now that Bishop Aboyade Cole Street is not good for him. I knew that too (I mean I don’t know the descendants of Einstein that felt the best solution to the potholes on that road would be to scatter hundreds of boulders on the road) So today I ignored Chuks and the worst thing happened, a boulder got stuck under Chuks and actually pulled down one “thingy”. We had to stop and make sure Chuks was alright and somehow I managed to reattach the “thingy”, I feel so bad now because even at the time I was worried about my new Vera Wang’s and how they would do in that horrid topography! Now I have seen the error of my ways and feel so bad for treating Chuks so bad. He’s been through a lot this week. I mean it was just last Monday that one of those Boko Haramists knocked one side mirror off clean. Now the said side mirror is attached to Chuks by a flimsy shoelace!

So I love Chuks and I don’t mind that though he’s my first I wasn’t his first. Infact Chuks has had two lovers before me and infact early in our relationship he wasn’t entirely faithful. But Chuks knows I love him, when he was sick and the doctors diagnosed a battery failure, I stretched my measly corper salary to get him a new one. I even gave him a brighter dazzling smile and changed the gear knob when it broke. I lovingly bathed, shined and polished him whenever he needed. I need Chuks to know this because even though sometimes I abandon him at the slight chance to sit in the plushness Toyo-Ravy offers or even that one time I went out with Toyo-Highlandy (even though he’s such a snob) I will always love Chuks, even though my eyes roam and rest lasciviously on Hyundai Ellie or lately Hondy City.

Chuks has been very faithful to me and I will always love him because as they say you never truly forget your first.

PS: I have this friend that named her first car, a Kia Rio, Amy, so when we talked about it I said my car was more of a Chukwuma, very strong, dependable and will not give up on you which is more than I can say for the aje burra Amy!

Rantings of a Hormonal Somebody!!!

Before i say anything i want to say thanks to all of u who read my last post, ur comments were very muchly appreciated. The thing is i'm about 40 pages deep into MOARS (memoirs of a reluctant socialite) so i definitely cant post the whole thing. Will continue to do excerpts though and some of the other stuff i've written. Abi?

It's Tuesday morning and i can feel myself slipping into a mild bout of depression. I'm doin evrything i can to stop it but it seems hell bent on happening so i think maybe i should let it. I'm rocking back and forth in my chair cos ive got bad cramps (really ouch) and the office is practically empty (other lawyers have one do or the other) So the jnr Associate is going to get saddled with all the work. I'm not in a crappy mood yet but i'm definitely on the Red Eye there.

I have a lot of stuff on my mind, mostly money ish! Now is the time i'm angry at my father for not being Aliko Dangote or some other rich b@$t@rd and at the same time i want to beat the crap out of myself for thinking like that. Afterall even Dangote has money ish, now i so wouldnt want to be an Ibru or an Akingbola. Chai, my mother declared wanted by EFCC, i wouldnt even show my anonymous face on blogger. Uneasy itches the arse that sits on a pile of cash!

I'm just worried and it's human nature to worry but i need a release. What a better forum for release that blogger???

Plus i have ex-boyfriend issues on the one hand which i am totally not ready to deal with. Guys please help me out on this. Am i being unreasonable not to want to get back together with someone who had a bbq last wkend to which one proud member of his harem (or wateva he wants to call it) showed up. I mean this was a loony that stalked me and harassed me while the said ex and I were still together. Am i overreacting by being upset that obviously they are still chummy enough for her to show up at his bbq. Me think not o! Right now all i have to say in the matter is in the only Ijaw phrase i know....Ta! bogo so!

Plus Skye Bank is stupid jo! Hakuna matata my arse, you guys are worrying me big time. So if a corper opens a savings account, its not a savings account again? Why should i bring another ID to open another account? Mschewwwwwwww!!!

Plus my boss just asked me to do a reminder to this bank that overcharged our clients account by several millions of naira, i'm almost tempted to ask him whether this really matters seeing as the said client is on the CBN Debtors list and owes several billions. How will the few measly millions the bank supposedly owes him help???

I put in my resignation letter yesterday, (supposed to be taking off for a study leave) so maybe i should just drag my feet on evrything i have to do and instead prepare elaborate 2 page handover notes and dash my colleagues all my work.

Of which my friend has accused me of being Ayoka (Rookie Lawyer) Nothing i say can dissuade her from this notion, short of giving her the link to this blog (hmnnnnnnnn!) Anyways with the stuff thats been on mind i cant blame her. I've even started following Ayoka on Blogger but she doesnt update her blog regularly jo! Seems This Day Lawyer is a more lucrative and rewarding forum. Maybe i should call The Guardian and see if they'll publish my blog, seeing as they like to copy This Day (refer to Guardian Life and This Day Style) As for Vanguard Allure, the caption should read "....extra newspaper to line your cupboard" I'm being very catty abi? Its the hormones!

Anyways i'm half heartedly feeling much better already. This was just a meaningless rant, a sort of five minute release.

Thank God for blogger!

DIPPING ONE TOE IN THE ATLANTIC

Refer to Blog title please! Ehen! This is exactly how this feels. Another way to describe it is having a baby you really love but ur not sure whether people are goin to say "Oh what a cute monkey!" when you take it out. Well this is one of my many babies, that have never ever ever (you get the point, EVER!) seen the light of day and yet i have chosen to bring her out just for the good people of blogsville. I want you to be kind to her and at the same time i want you to tell me if i should take her back in and lock her up once again. Anyway here goes, this is called Memoirs of a Reluctant Socialite. i started it a couple of months back in one of my lighter moods (its pure chic lit o!) and had intended to publish it as a fictional blog, anyway story for another day. Enjoy!

PS: All rights reserved o! No production or reproduction of this without the consent of yours truly or i go sue ur ass from here to Timbuktu! No forget say i be lawyer o!

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Reluctant Socialite;

Okay. I admit it I’m out of my element. Not in the fish out of water way but more like goldfish swimming with the tilapias. I mean take that woman for instance I’m sure her patent Balenciaga bag costs more than my annual salary and to me my pay’s not that shabby, to her it’s a bag, probably one of a closet full. So you could ask what I was doing at the same party with Miss Balenciaga. I was asking myself the exact same thing.

I was born and grew up mostly in P-Town (that’s what the trendy kids call Port Harcourt now) but I migrated to the west after I was done with primary school and I’ve been in love with Lagos ever since. I mean my entire life is here, my confusing boyfriend whom I love despite the fact that I seem to want to break up with him every two days, my best friends (frankly I have about 10 of them) and all my fave places, like Takwa Bay, The Palms, Silverbird Galleria and oh Nando’s. I mean I love P-Town or rather I love my family which is rooted in P-Town but Lagos has grown on me.

You have to love Lagos, whether you’re the quiet type or the one the bouncers know by name, it’s a town that takes care of everybody.

So back to the Balenciaga party, I mean ok I’m fresh out of medical school, doing my housemanship with a leading private clinic and still so excited I’m scrawling Dr. Yvette Greene on every scrap of paper. Yeah that’s my name Yvette. Apparently I was conceived in Paris, the most romantic city in the world, by the way being conceived in a place doesn’t make you a citizen and frankly that’s unfair. I would make a nice Parisian, rolling my r’s and saying “bon” all the time. Okay back to the point, I tend to roll off tangent at times. I hate being called Yvette so everyone calls me Vee. I share a flat (when I say flat I mean a small cramped one bedroom in Lekki) with my friend Nissah. The good news is it comes absolutely free, Nissah’s uncle lives in the main building and she works with him so the flat comes as a perk with the low paying job, even though her uncle is as rich as Oprah! Okay maybe i tend to exaggerate a bit, but you get the point. So it’s Saturday and the lady of the house is attending some kid’s first birthday party and she asks if Nissah and I would like to tag along. I say ok, I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides there’s no light and we dare not put on the generator, Uncle D probably measures the diesel level with a tape rule. Nissah and I barely cook and its mid-month so the fridge is empty. The prospect of free food has us moving in fast forward. I throw on a top I wore the previous day, on top of faded jeans. Nissah digs in her wardrobe for something nicer and advices me to do the same.

“Nissah it’s a child’s first birthday not a presidential gala.” I’d said as she threw on a new sundress. Now standing there in the back garden of a sprawling estate in VGC I wish I’d listened to her. Everybody looks so chic, that’s everyone but me. Nissah tosses her new weave and smiles like a movie star, her two year old cousin expertly balanced on her hip. I realize just then that I seem to have fallen quite by accident into the world of the Lagos socialites.
“Hello” a tiny woman trills enthusiastically as she walks over to us. Nissah’s aunt smiles as they hug and kiss the air at their chicks. I have never understood why they do that.
“Milli! You look great. I can’t believe Mercedes is already one.” Nissah’s aunt said. Mercedes? I could never seem to understand why people gave their kids names like that. The poor thing would probably grow up into a Mercedes, big, imposing and high-maintenance. Whatever happened to the good old traditional names? (Yeah, I’m one to talk)
“The little things grow so fast” the petite Milli says with a dismissive wave of the hand, “is this your sister?” she asks looking at Nissah with an appraising smile. I’m used to the reactions people get around my friend. She’s tall, dark-skinned and curvy with a heart-shaped pretty face. Nissah is stunning. That’s the word. Frankly I have no problem with the fact that I pale beside her. I’ve grown into my skin and the realization that I’m some guy’s type at least.
“Oh, this is Nissah, Dede’s niece. She’s a stockbroker.” Actually Nissah is a lawyer working in a stockbroking firm, still to them it’s probably potatoes-potatos!
“Good afternoon” Nissah says with a wide smile. I wonder if the sides of her face ache.
“She’s a pretty one.” Milli says, “Deji’s brother is just in from Singapore, we should seat them together.”

I shift awkwardly from one foot to the other feeling completely ignored, I mean I seem to have faded into thin air, even Nissah seems to have forgotten I’m there. Well actually I have faded in my grey top and washed jeans. Everyone else is in brightly coloured tops and dresses with huge designer bags. I walk behind them silently as Milli, the hostess, leads us to a table. The children are in the middle of the garden playing a game and Nissah’s cousins run off to join them. I and Nissah settle down while her aunt does the rounds. “Did you see Tunji Coker?” Nissah whispers fiercely.
“Who?” I’m rather distracted, wondering which of the three buffet tables I should attack first.
“Tunji Coker, Dextron Consult. True Love’s bachelor of the month.”
“Really?” I’m not that interested. My stomach is growling loudly. Actually almost everyone looks familiar, in that you-know-me-but-don’t-know-me way. “let’s get something to eat.” I say and Nissah gives me her ‘are u crazy’ look.
“What? It’s a buffet.”
“Vee we just got here. We don’t want to look like we’ve been starved. Give it ten minutes.”
“okay” I mutter crossly “but if my stomach starts to growl loudly you cant pretend you don’t know me.” She laughs.

We get to find out that the party is for the third child of Milli Oderinde who is married to the first son of Justice Oderinde, the Chief Justice of Nigeria. Nissah is so excited to learn that. She studied law but was posted to a capital management company for her youth service. I’m more surprised to learn that Milli has had 3 kids with that body. She’s a size 6. A thirty something year old size 6. I’m 23 and I wear a 12, on my good days a 10. I hate her instantly. More so even when she comes to our table to make sure we’re all fine and completely ignores me. I’m a doctor, I want to scream. I’m important too. I don’t have to heft around a Mui Mui or Lulu Guiness bag to be noticed.

SETTLING DOWN

Ahem! Seems like i am getting the hang of this whole blogging thing. You see i am a very dedicated addict in everything i do. I have decided to shift my focus from the now boring Facebook (I was the one everyone in the office came to for advice on blocking annoying friends to starting groups- that was when i realised i had a problem) I had a brief stint on Twitter but didnt stick, it shoud be called Bwitter (for boring) or Psycho-Stalktter! I mean who cares if P Diddy is tweeting from his sick bed and seeing the angels. I swear that dude has an epiphany each time he has a common cold. Ehen! So as i was saying i am settling into Blogsville as you old timers would say and lovin it.

I often leave my "uncompleted building" (in the spirit of the metaphor) and dash down to some nice "mansions" in Blogsville. I think Sir Scribbles is the Mayor of Blogsville (i stand to be corrected o, but the dude is pushing 100 posts for crying out loud, anyone else would be the Obama or something) Then i "met" someone with the same name and dashed down to theirs to see if we were related. I've been to Rene's and her post on kissing brought back some memories! Chai (my new best exclamation) Then there's this building next to mine, that doesnt even have a roof! The funniest part about that is that the owner of said building was the one who suggested i move to Blogsville. Jonahiam, should you ever read this, you know yourself!

The reason i like Blogsville is cos its a honest to goodness utopian society, every body says watever they want to, not like Reallifesville where you cant tell the annoying wannabe-the-boss-tho-i'm-not what you really think of the way they strut around the office staring at your system and pretending to be busy when they actually delegate all their work to the Junior Associates! Yes, that was resentment. I cant actually tell SA (Snr Associate/ Snr Asshole) that he should stick his pinnochio-ish nose into his own work and let me carry on with my faffing ( i believe a well balanced mix of faffing and working results in a more productive me) There was one time SA actually asked me why i had chosen to work from the library that day! lmagine asking a lawyer that, e for go ask farmer why e carry hoe go farm. I couldn't even form the words to reply him. Anyways more on SA later, i need to dedicate a whole post to handling his matter.

Then there are the other inhabitants of Blogsville, who i think moved to Blogsville to live the fantasy life they've always wanted. That in itself is no crime o, not at all. The crime for which they should be exiled is feeding us a long line and insisting its the real thing. Haba! I left people like urself in Reallifesville o! If you want to spin fiction by all means do so and we the citizens of Blogsville will help you down your path to stardom and not to a Lie-lie Anonymous meeting. Lol. See me i'm very blunt when i'm in Reallifesville so imagine me in Blogsville!

So i am comfortably settled in my new home, i've done some pimping as you can see (if you've been here before) More stylish amendments coming soon.

So this is just to say that i'm getting the hang of this, slowly but surely. Thank you all that have dropped by to say welcome. I will definitely be returning the visit if i havent already. Expect more virtual blogs and if anything note worthy fails to occur in this life of mine i can always treat you to a page or two from the lives of my alter egos. Would have loved to say more but i think i smell SA coming. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Neo.

I SHOULD HAVE SAID BOMB ON THE AIRPLANE (RELOADED)

So it’s Friday morning and my flight is scheduled to leave Lagos at 10:50, being a very UnNigerian Nigerian, I brave the pouring rain and defy the antics of the ATM machines which refuse to dispense cash and make it to the airport by 9:30am. It’s all smooth sailing as I successfully check in and make my way to the departure lounge.
It’s still raining cats and dogs outside and the airport is really full, I half wonder where all these people are going. With the heavy rain it’s no wonder when some flights, including mine, are delayed. I was expecting that. I wander around the departure lounge strolling into stores with VAT charges I cannot afford (yet) and still wondering why people always seem to stare at me on the few occasions I dare to wear something short (must be the hot legs) Back to the point, Aero seems to be making departure calls to every city in Nigeria but the one I’m traveling to. I try to be patient, but that has never been one of my strong suits. To pass the time I bury myself into the Marian Keyes I’ve been reading for the past 2 weeks (once upon a time I could get through a 400page novel overnight, those days are long gone!) It’s been over two hours now and the passengers are starting to get antsy. I make my way to the boarding desk and ask an Aero staff if she had any news about our flight. She says she thinks the flight might be cancelled but that she’s not sure yet. The passengers begin to get agitated and I chip in my small bit (mind you, a very small bit. I’m not about to be reminded that there are people who shelled out almost 40 grand for a seat as against my 5 grand)
I hurry downstairs to the ticketing desk along with everybody else where we were harshly informed that we had two options, either we were to be rescheduled on the 4:15pm flight or get a refund. I quickly weigh my options, shell out another 12 grand which I did not bargain for, or wait a couple more hours for the 4:15 flight. I choose the latter option and hand my ticket to the lady who’s barking at everyone like a French poodle.
My backpack is starting to feel like it weighs a ton and I’m thinking my day couldn’t get any worse, right? How wrong was I. The poodle-lady returns and informs us in her high pitched barks that unfortunately only about 5 people could be rescheduled to the 4:15 flight cos the flight had been fully booked ( she didn’t know that before?) Once again, we had two options, be rescheduled to the 8:15am Saturday flight or get a refund. By this time I really did not feel like a person with options,Virgin Nigeria’s last flight to PH had probably touched down in PH and I was stuck in Lagos staring at a reincarnated poodle who was “just doing her job” What an interesting job, I thought, canceling and rescheduling flights. I had no choice but to once again opt for the 8:15 am flight. I thought I had it bad, till I heard the oyinbo (white, just in case u have to pretend u don’t know what “oyinbo” means) dude next to me sigh “na wa for this Aero o!” That was enough to diffuse the anxiety for a while at least.
I called up a friend who lives so close to the airport that when any member of her family is traveling back home all she has to do is stand on her balcony to see the flight when it lands (her words, not mine) and she came to pick me up from the airport so i could sleep over at hers. Well there was about half an inch of an silver lining in this story at this point. I got to hang out with a few friends for the rest of the day.
Bright and early the next morning (it had to be Sanitation day) my friend dropped me off at the airport. I got in thinking I’d be the one waking up the check in guys, how wrong was I, the queue was so long and wavy that it was impossible to tell where it began and where it ended, so I did what any right thinking young lady would do. I walked boldly to the front of the line, decided that the dude controlling the line was better bullied than smiled at, so I told him that I had been asked to come straight to the check in counter and that if he had any issues with that he should take it up with his manager. It worked! What a wonder a calmly and confidently spoken jumble of words could do, yeah?
I checked in and made for the departure lounge, this time the plane actually boarded, took off and landed on schedule. Okay, this is the point where any sensible nightmare would choose to end, right? Wrong!
I had a fabo day in PH, saw the whole family again. Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, decided to relax a bit, my flight back to Lagos was scheduled for 1:40pm. At about 11:30am my phone beeped a text in. I quote;
“Dear Esteemed Customer, This is to inform you that our flight AJ314 from Port Harcourt – Lagos on the 28th June 2009 at 13:40 hrs has been cancelled due to operational reasons. The next available flight will be tomorrow 29th June at 09:05 hrs and 17:30 hrs. we sincerely apologise for any incionvenience this may cause you and plead for your understanding. For enquiries; Please call 0700FLYAER0”
At this point I decided that this would be a silver lining, I would get to spend more time with my family, all I had to do was develop a bad “sore throat” when I called work early Monday morning to explain why I wouldn’t be coming in. so around noon I left for the airport to reschedule for the Monday morning flight. This would have been another appropriate spot for the nightmare to end.
I got to the airport and when I got to the Aero desk I was sent to a guy whose skin looked like it hadn’t yet made up its mind whether it wanted its owner to be an albino or not. He was on his mobile and did that annoying thing where the person smiles at you and holds up one finger. When he was eventually done talking, he smiled and asked how he could help me. I very calmly in my best I’m-a-lawyer-so-you-dont-want-to-mess-with-me voice explained the whole thing to him, he took my print out and gleefully informed me that my promotional ticket did not enjoy the privilege of flying on a Monday morning flight and that the later flight was fully booked. At this point it was becoming clear that this was a plot to make me lose it, so I did. My flight had been cancelled twice in 2 days and since it was no fault of mine the least they could do was put me on their next flight whether or not the seats were laden with gold! He said that he was sorry but that it wasn’t possible, still with that annoying smile! I lost it further and the blessed son of man had to effrontery to ask me whether it was his fault, whether he was Aero Contractors? I had to ask him if he expected me to run to the tarmac and shout at the aircraft. He replied that the best he could do was to leave my ticket open ended so I could use it some other time. Yeah! Just so they could cancel on me again? So I proudly squared my shoulders and asked for a refund of my 5 grand. I was once again directed to another sour faced lady who made the refund.
Cut the long story short, I had to fly Virgin Nigeria the next morning, it was a good flight, the one with in flight entertainment and the flight attendant didn’t ask me if I wanted those doggone cashews. I saw the Aero flight on the tarmac as I boarded Virgin and now all I can think was I should have warned the passengers boarding it how I suspected there might be a bomb on the plane.it was my civic duty! Hell I SHOULD HAVE SAID BOMB ON THE AIRPLANE and maybe one of these days I will.

I SHOULD HAVE SAID BOMB ON THE AIRPLANE

It was like any other Monday morning at work, I was trying to fill the obligatory two hours of faffing before I actually began work of any sort. That was when my consort, (hereafter referred to as Aki, to protect her identity) squealed that Aero Contractors was running a 5 day promo to celebrate their 50th anniversary (so why do airplanes still seem like a modern achievement if they had been around for that long?), 5 grand on all domestic routes. Being the typical Nigerian lover of all things awoof (freebies or well in this case giveaway!) I quickly proceeded to make a booking for a return ticket to PH (I live in Lagos btw) a booking that I managed to complete on Friday! That should have been the first sign that this promotional ticket did not feature in my destiny but the power of awoof propelled me on. On Friday I continued with my booking and then the second sign! After I had chosen my flight dates (to coincide with my nephew’s birthday weekend) I supplied my personal details and navigated to the payment page. I decided to pay via Interswitch using my ATM card and patiently waited for my confirmation email with my booking reference and so it began. The confirmation page simply refused to open and I had no booking reference. I didn’t begin to panic till I confirmed that my account had indeed been debited. Yes, I know it’s just 10 grand but seeing as I’m neither Aliko Dangote’s secret lovechild nor do I intend to discover the cure for cancer anytime soon, my 10 grand meant a lot to me (I could get a nice bag with that or some ASOS shoes that I could lock in my closet only bringing them out for the occasional worship session. PS: I LOVE BAGS AND SHOES)

My evil colleagues (the Cooperatives as I call them due to the occasional contribution funds for a sarnie and tea break) had begun to enjoy my moment of horror. I heard things such as “awoof dey run belle” “No free lunch in Freetown” Still I refused to despair and went into Operation recover my 10 grand!!!! I called every number on the Aero website including 7,000 till I realized that was just a promotional fare price, all to no avail. The 10 grand stealers were not picking their over 10 lines. I tried 0700 FLY AERO and got to listen to those horrible automated voices that seemed to enjoy the misery of ur waiting, the stupid baritone voice kept asking me to hold for the next available agent, and that my call was important to them, till I ran out of call credit. It was getting very expensive trying to retrieve my beloved 10 grand. I sent an email, all to no avail. Then on Friday a friend was coming into Lagos from Enugu and kindly helped me sort it out at MMA2.

I was so relieved, but as they say in Nollywood “THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING- WATCH OUT FOR PART 2 OF I SHOULD HAVE SAID “BOMB” ON THE AIRPLANE.” COMING SOON. GRAB YA COPY NOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!

BLOG OR DIE

Okay, I’ve managed to put this off for so long now but here it is, my first blog. This is going to be a completely self-centered rant about my life so if you were looking for an in-depth discussion on politics or philosophy you may as well save yourself the disappointment now. This here is everything I stand against, I hate self obsessed people but here I am ranting about my life. Well, at least I have a justification, because maybe if I don’t do this I'll just drop dead from pent up frustrations about all the things that are inside me struggling to find their way out, and then when I get to heaven’s gate I would meet St Paul (or is it Gabriel) and he would look so sad and say “Such a young girl, if only you’d discovered blogspot.” I am very sarcastic, that’s one other thing you might want to get used to, I think it’s an offshoot of the frustration. Sometimes I take stock of my 23 years( make that 24, a few months to go) on Planet Earth and I think ‘Hmn, not bad!’ Other times I sigh and wonder why the ‘bad girls’ are the ones who got ahead and I’m stuck in this life that is surely not my own.

Is it just me? Am I asking for too much? Am I too young to have a good job that I love, drive a car that I bought with my hard earned money and live in a nice flat? Okay I’ll answer that one myself, I possibly am, considering the fact that I just finished school this year and I’m currently a “corper” serving my nation. Still it doesn’t stop me wanting all of those things. I live with my sister and her family in a really nice estate and I get the whole ‘aren’t u lucky thing’. Thing is I don’t feel lucky, not all the time, there are times I wouldn’t mind living in a one room face-me-i-face-you in Ajegunle (ok Maybe not Aj) as long as it’s all mine.

My point is that I can’t wait to come into my own person, and get to that place where my next step does not depend on one person or the other. See, I can already hear all the advice you have for me cos I’ve said it to other people and sometimes even to my own self, the benefits of delayed gratification and all, if I have it all now there’s nothing to look forward to. I’m just sick and tired of living by someone else’s rules which I have to “as long as you’re under my roof” I just want to come into my own person, have a house I furnished by myself, picked out the colours . I want to lock up when I leave for work in the morning, stop off at the market on my way back home so I can pick up stuff for dinner, have friends over whenever I want, get to call the plumber cos there’s a leak in the kitchen or struggle to put on my ‘I better pass my neighbour generator’ I want o get a chance to do all of those things. I am not one of those girls that want to go from Mama’s house to Baby’s house if you catch my drift. I am not worried about the fact that I do not have a boyfriend(okay let me rephrase that) I am not worried about the fact that I do not have a husband nor am I engaged but I do occasionally worry that I do not have a boyfriend or that I will never find one that will love me in the way that I have been loved before and in a way still loved (that is a story for another day) I don’t think marriage is the logical next step after school and all that, I don’t think you get married because you feel it should come next or you’re getting too old, you get married because you meet someone that makes you want to get married and all the trappings that come with it. Waking up next to each other for the rest of your lives, how can I think of marriage when I’m still the grumpiest morning person I know, I have to meet someone that makes me look forward to morning every night as I sleep. Someone I can stand to kiss despite the morning breath and I had someone like that once upon a time (like I said story for another day)

So these are the things that frustrate me, I want my privacy, I want money, I want a boyfriend and yes in that order! When I think of more I’ll be back, like I said you could have saved urself the disappointment.