My Week, My Birthday and My Trip to Brazil

I'm back…YAY me!!! Don't act like you didn't miss me all this while. No-one to thrill you and enliven your day, nay … month, in short your total existence with meaningless banter, too much TMI and insane attacks of verbal dysentery. J It makes you a better person sef to admit it…you know that right? You did? You're such a wuss! ROTFL!!! Ok so seriously…I missed you too, I had no-one to give me instant virtual gratification. :-* So onto the business of the day, however I warn you this post was written nearly two weeks ago, but crappy internet has prevented me from posting till now so enjoy your flashback.

Ok this week's been a beehive of activity or rather forming activity I should say. This week was my birthday week…Yay I'm a day closer to being senile…LOL! Anyways it started on a slow note but read for yourself.

Monday 30^th May

Today was a public holiday so I did what people generally do on public holidays…lounged away, slept, woke up, ate and went back to sleep…yeah that kinda day and this time baby girl did not forget to raid the piggy bank *don't you just hate when a public holiday hits and you've forgotten to go to the bank the day before? And to crown it all you ATM card stops working!* so I splurged on my uber-fave feast…pizza! My hips increased by an inch, but what the heck, I'd gladly sacrifice form for food J and anyways I had no hips once. But I digress…as usual!

Tuesday 1^st June

(5:30 A.M) I woke up early cos of work but as usual I bummed around and got in late as usual. The Boyfriend called around 8 AM during a lull in his show to ask me if I wanted to go out after work. My reply…"errmmm...hell yeah!" It's not every day TuFace aka Innocent Idibia aka "Future Baby Daddy" comes to town. The day was uneventful, had the office all to myself, one engineer was in the field and the other was on casual leave, so I just watched Soundcity and CNN and twiddled my toes till close of shop.

(21:00) Evening arrives and I got my sexy on, hot ass dress and I wore makeup…shock…awe…faint…yes I know cardiac inducing news, but I do wear makeup occasionally…birthdays, funerals and anniversaries. So time to leave and I have a chick moment…what to wear? Boyfriend couldn't complain much as I'm usually set long before he arrives, and I end up waiting ages for him. The fact that I was prancing around in a pair of thongs, tights and heels trying on barely there dresses no doubt helped to keep him quite quiet, suffice to say we almost didn't make it to the show.

He did an amazing thing…he asked what I had planned for my birthday. Sounds strange right? But it was amazing to me…in all the years I've known him he's never asked me that question. Usually I get lucky if he even remembers I have one, I mean one year he spent it in the female hostel of a university campus *insert appropriate WTF symbols* :-o. Well it won him major points cos I was already planning his demise in classic Ashanti-style (you've watched her "The Way I Love You" video right? You have…well I'd planned it ju……st like that).

(22:30 – 03:30) Anyways the show was ok though at a point the crowd was close to losing patience and going home, but as 2Baba entered the stage, ladies forgot why they were bitching, and I'm surprised I didn't see panties flying on stage. That said I'd still like to know what type of fool thought it made sense to organize an all night show on a weekday, I won't ask which type of fool attends such a show cos I was there abi? J. Suffice to say I didn't get much sleep, got in by 3.30A.M (and the show was still going hard at that time) and as usual got into the office late.

Wednesday 2^nd June

After fortifying…or is that poisoning…myself with three cups of extra strength black, no sugar, no cream coffee I make it to the office by 10.30 and proceed to fight sleep, with mixed success. Heaven decides to cry as I close for the day and I get soaked to my knickers, and in the way it tends to do stops as soon as I finally get a cab. Just my frikkin' luck. I sometimes believe Murphy was my daddy and made his law to commenorate my birth. Home at last...so I strip down and enjoy our no-light day, thinking I'll shut my eyes for a few before looking for food. Fast forward 6 hours…I wake up and find it's 11.30pm of the same day…so much for food. Now I'm up and sleep has officially left the building. Minutes to midnight the flow of smses begins…Yay it's officially my birthday. And big love to my homeboy Luminus and our Iyawo, Olufunmike (my first blog follower if I recall) for launching the first salvo in B'dy warfare :-*

Thursday, 3^rd June

(4:00 A.M) So I'm still awake. My old man remembers I'm older today and even sends me a birthday text, I reply and so he calls and we talk for twenty minutes or so and agree to meet on his way to work (he lives about 5 minutes from my house and people tend to be shocked when I say I haven't seen him in 3 months. I know it sounds bad…but we get on great…he respects my right to privacy and I his, and really seeing someone everyday isn't really a sign of affection…after all I see my neighbours everyday and can't stand most of them J.

(6.30 A.M) Dad swings by with my birthday goodies. Now in my house we're quite sensible, we don't do gifts…we understand the power of good ol' currency. So for my day he gave me a gorgeous cake and 50Gs *WooHoo danced the electric slide* J…yep Daddy's my kinda guy!!! So I'm set to go to work even though it ain't my day because of the young lady on casual leave, but I get the heads up that there's no need and so I go shopping instead, and splurge on a cute dress and shoes for the day's activities. From there I headed out and went to the Home for the Physically Challenged to spread some of the love I'd been receiving all day long. It was a wonderful feeling seeing the kids there, and at the same time it made me doubly grateful for my family and my life.

(10:30A.M – 22:00) After that I took myself out for a movie and ogled over Jake Gyllenhaal for 90 minutes plus…although Broke-back Mountain kept flashing through my mind during the saliva exchange scenes…please tell me I am not alone…and then I did a solo lunch. That done I headed home and got changed for my movie date with my friends Val, Teni, Naomi (Val and Teni you guys should really get this girl on twitter joh) and DJ Tan (who's also my birthday mate) to watch the premiere of Green Zone…it was an ok film, I had a certain dé ja vu-ish feeling, as if I'd watched the movie before…but then again…it IS Matt Damon! Good enough reason to watch! J It was fun although we did get shushed a few times for talking during the movie. After that I headed down to Boyfriend's office since he was still at work, from there we headed to Protea for a drink and would've gone for the monthly Reggae jam at Liquid but I was spent, so we went home.

I've been praying that the gods would take pity on me and cure me of this verbal diarrhoea that plagues me, and I thought my birthday would be the day I'd be so blessed. Lemme explain what I mean. For some reason I am more or less incapable of keeping quiet about things that are on my mind. I feel it thus I speak it. So I ended up spewing my reservations about how I see us breaking up in the near future if he doesn't step lively. As you must have guessed ours isn't a two month affair…we've been together seven (yes seven…no typo) years and I think that's time enough to make up your mind about the direction you're heading. He says he had needed a little time to clear his head but methinks it's a clear case of "Love me or leave me the FUCK alone"

His birthday present is still pending but he assures me he got me something and it's yet to be delivered. I'm thinking maybe a car? He says no but now I'm obsessing on what it could be, especially since he had to order it and he's not giving me any clues, and trust me I've applied all my feminine charms and cunning (this includes offers of kinky sex in the office and a month worth of lap dances), but alas no dice! So I wait and exercise patience *if you know me well you know this is not one of my virtues* Anyhooo I have told him the gift better come correct and be worthy of the intrigue...otherwise...wo...I'll use whatever it may be and smack him silly with it

Friday 4^th June

(3:00-6:00) …the rest is strictly Too Much TMI. J

(9:00 – til fade) Nothing noteworthy to report for the rest of the day, slept nearly the whole day and watched movies and fooled around on Twitter till 3AM then slept off while watching a movie at around 5.

Saturday 5^th June

The day started as most Sanitation days start…me passed out. Woke up by 9, went online, did a lil laundry little did I know that I'd find myself flat on my back by 4 PM. So around 2 I leave the house to the salon to get my dreads did and suddenly a thought crosses my mind…why not get a wax? So I head to the spa and book an appointment then go back to my usual salon do my hair and get my nails done. While this is going on I begin to question the wisdom of my appointment. Do I really need to put myself through that much pain for beauty's sake? But I've already paid and I've never been known to chicken out on much. 20 minutes later I'm stripped down and have a towel round my chest in a room with five women…did I forget to mention that it wasn't my legs scheduled for the wax? Ehen! I'm moving to Brazil…or at least my bush is.

So here I am...flat on my back with my legs open (not so new) and five people staring at my vagina (very new) with clinical interest. Never has my vagina received such avid and rapt attention since my gynaecologist last peeped. I'd resigned myself to the pain, and lots of it for that matter, but after screaming silently in my mind (ómò…you know your chick too bad, damn too hood to be bawling like a bitch) an accompanying pleasure followed…Yikes!

Is my inner dominatrix becoming a submissive and masochistic in nature? I think not…I still enjoy dishing out pain a tad too much. You doubt it? Oya come let me beat you Rodney King-style just for kicks J.

Sadomasochism aside I do know that I liked the results thereafter, and I know zee Boyfriend did too ;-). Will I do it again? Yes! Will I do it again any time in the immediate future? That remains to be seen.

Sunday 6^th June

New week people… And that folks is the story of my week, my birthday and my trip to Brazil

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Death By Politically Correct Means

Death by Politically Correct Means

“The right of the one ends where that of the other begins”

SCENE 1 ACT 1

JASMINE: Mom, I’d like to introduce you to [INSERT NAME].
JASMINE’S MOM: Hello, young man, how are you?
BOO: I’m fine thank you ma’am.

…

SCENE 1 ACT 2

MOM: So Jasmine who is [INSERT NAME] to you?
JASMINE: Mama, he’s my unpaid sex worker, I hope you liked him?
Mother turns ashen, splutters and faints
…

Setting: Hospital morgue
POLICE OFFICER: So Doctor…can you narrow down the cause of death? We’re trying to rule out murder given the fact Mrs. M had no history of heart disease.
CORONER: Well Detective, I’m sorry to inform you it was murder.
POLICE OFFICER: Doctor…are you certain? You KNOW this is a high profile case in the making?
CORONER: Unfortunately Detective, it can be no other way. All forensic evidence leads us to only one conclusion…
POLICE OFFICER: What?
CORONER: Mrs. M was a victim of…
Police Officer cuts in
POLICE OFFICER: Damnit man…spit it out already!
CORONER: Mrs. M was a victim of…Death by Political Correctness…as is obvious from the shocked look on her face

SCENE 1 ACT 3

Setting funeral.
Enter left stage:
JASMINE: Bye-Bye Mommy (sobbing)
Exit left stage
Curtain falls

I’m kinda tired of bleeding heart liberals…and NO this is not an expression of my political leaning. It is a statement about Political Correctness and its stifling and strangulating grip on freedom of expression. In the course of respecting the rights of others hasn’t the right of self been trampled upon?

I miss the good ol’ days of senseless violence, gratuitous sex and nudity and gruesome decapitations interposed for the shock value and nothing more. I miss the days of self-expressionism and convoluted discordance called art. Now we have censorship of word, deed and thought.

In the bid not to step on anyone’s toes hasn’t the motion of Id and Ego been trampled and regressed by the Collective groupthink syndrome? Point in case, the use of certain words and phrases have been termed offensive, rude, downright spiteful, gender insensitive, etc etc and the use of them frowned upon. The use of everyday words like “chairman” has been substituted with “chairperson” even when it’s quite obvious the person on the dais is of determinable gender. Any word remotely gender bias is taboo, feminism and feminists must be appeased. Use of words like ‘retarded’ (remember the song by B. E. P titled ‘Let’s Get Retarded’ that had to be re-titled ‘Let’s Get it Started’ in a bid to be PC), ‘blind’, ‘deaf’ and co is the quickest route to social suicide, a real social faux pas. The correct words “special”, “visually impaired”, “audio impaired” et al. Now I can understand the need for sensitivity with these but don’t I have the right to be retarded in my speech? And even if I don’t say it out loud does that stop me from thinking it?

As much as regard for the next man…oops sorry…person is essential, my freedom to be un-PC is my God-given right, and even some of the supposedly PC terms are just plain dumb. I was listening to a radio show awhile back and PC was the topic, or rather politically correct phrases for everyday items and situations. I shudder to think how much money the morons, just to tell me that I can’t call a book a book or call my partner “my boyfriend” anymore, spent on research. Nope…no can do anymore, I must now introduce him as my “unpaid sex worker”.

Fuck PC…my boyfriend remains my boyfriend and even if I’m fifty I have no intention of actually letting my Moms know who I’m bedding if it isn’t legal sex…i.e. we aren’t married. And isn’t it even more insulting to call your lover a sex worker…even if they’re unpaid? A sex worker is a hooker plain and simple…whether for a C-note or an I. O. U! Random aside: if a boyfriend or girlfriend is an unpaid sex worker, what’s a wife? According to my Pops she’s a “Home Manager”, according to me she’s a glorified domesticated sex slave…and the bummer is she doesn’t get paid no salary…unless it’s alimony (who’m I kidding alimony and child support do not exist in Naija).

Now the censor is not reserved to just speech, it is extended to all avenues of expression…music…art…film…literature…dress. Every facet of human life has fallen prey to censorship and political correctness. A few months ago the Actors’ Guild of Nigeria’s president was talking about the removal of kissing etc from Nollywood movies and I scratched my head in wonder. Isn’t art also supposed to be a reflection of the prevailing societal reality? If a couple in the throes of new passion are together in a locked room wouldn’t they engage in some heavy petting if not the actual act of getting buck wild? Would their kisses be chaste and bland…or would it conjure up thoughts of fire and yes…raw sexual passion and get one’s blood roaring? Don’t married couples have sex? Don’t people have gratuitous sex and one night stands…without emotional entanglements and sentiment in real life…here in Naija? And who has the right to say what and whatnot I should view?

What about music? How many times have songs been placed on the NBC’s NTBB list for no apparent reason other than the fact that someone in the Commission interpreted a phrase to be suggestive? A case being a song by a Port Harcourt based artist that dealt with childhood, first love and growing up. The use of the word ‘bia-bia’ was thought by the NBC to refer to pubic hair (in their on twisted logic) when it is quite obvious to the listening public (and as explained by the artiste) that the hair referred to was facial hair (i.e. beard or moustache) which pronounces the change from a boy to a man. And what of the song “Big Boy” by El Dee the Don? For the life of me I still can’t understand the reasoning behind that one. Or how about the infamous banning of Femi Kuti’s “Bang, Bang, Bang” which although definitely sexual in nature was not as explicit as the Western music that assaulted and still assaults our ears on the daily with overtly sexual titles and lyrics like “Birthday Sex” by Jeremih and “Re-invented Sex” by Trey Songz are daily on our airwaves.

For children I can understand the need to censor and coddle…their minds are too immature to distinguish between fact and fiction, between right and wrong and shouldn’t be exposed to adult themes, but that’s why a rating system exists n’est pas? But even the prevention of undue exposure is the responsibility of the parent. I mean…really…what’s a ten year old kid doing up by 11pm watching TV?

Censorship takes away my right to decide for myself whether a thing is good for me or not. It removes my right to choice, and actually is a slap on the face because it says I’m too stupid to make a decision. If I wish to watch scenes of violence and deviant sexual acts is it not my right? I don’t really like porn and I think it is exploitative thus I don’t watch it…my right…my choice, but just because I don’t watch it doesn’t mean I’ll say everyone else shouldn’t watch it…their right…their choice. I will not impose my moral codes and beliefs on them, that would make me a dictator!

Worse still, censorship is a form of mind-control, the powers that be wish to determine, create and control the thoughts of the individual. The creation of automatons and “dolls” preconditioned to think, feel and speak no new thoughts, bring no new wisdom and most importantly brook no opposition. The imposition of the collective ideal stems and stifles the growth of radicalism and radical minds. And change is brokered by the radical…and the expressionist freethinker. Those in the position to impose norms and ethical standards are themselves not more ethically minded, or of a superior moral grade than those they would control, but tend to be more debase, but as the Pharisees of old preach the gospel of “do as I say not as I do”.

So I say death to censure, death to censor, death to groupthink that wishes to turn us all to mindless conformist drones, death to stifling repressions of expression, and death to political correctness. Viva la libertie…long live freedom. I know many will disagree with this evaluation…as is their (and your) right, but feel free to add your thoughts on this by leaving a comment.

And my parting shot…If God in His infinite wisdom gave Man the Gift of Freewill…abused as it may be…who is the man that shall dare to take it away?

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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My Neighbour’s Wedding

First off this is a highly delayed post, for those of you that follow me on twitter you’ll know I’ve been bitching for over a week that I’ve been unable to access blogger to post nada. And also I spent several tweets expressing my displeasure and dislike for the wedding thingymijig. Well today I’ve gotten lucky and I’m uploading all the junk I had in my trunk-like noggin…and will proceed to systematically inject it into your brain-stream like an intravenous…line by line, post by post. Enjoy…I think!!!
On Saturday 3rd April 2010, I witnessed a union of two bodies as one in the ceremony of holy matrimony. The bride looked stunning and the groom looked bored. Typical of most weddings I have attended, however this wedding was unusual in that the couple had already been married for years and had two kids to show for it, the eldest being five years old and the Little Bride at the ceremony. For me the ceremony was needless, after all by Nigerian law isn’t Traditional marriage as recognized and as valid as all the others? Or is what I learned during all those boring Social Studies classes null and void? Anyway the couple invested no small amount on the ceremony what with hiring of cars, paying for the dresses of the bridesmaids and their hairdos, hiring the hall for the reception, the civil ceremony and the church service. All needless expenses in my book.
A lot of people who’ve been reading my posts for awhile might think me anti-marriage but I’m not, I’m just practical about love, sex and marriage and wonder why the need to spend vast amounts on a one day event.
The money isn’t the only expense, however it is the only one that can be quantified. Time spent on wedding planning is time better spent on other things.
When my sister got hooked in 2003 I had the responsibility of almost single-handedly planning the wedding seeing as Madam and her husband were based in Lagos and the wedding was taking place in Port Harcourt. I almost had a coronary making sure the caterers arrived on time, and that the hairdresser and make-up guy got to the bridal suite on time. The printers in Lagos screwed up last minute with the wedding programmes and I was forced to find a printer to do the job in Port Harcourt in roughly 36 hours, in time for the traditional wedding. As if that wasn’t bad enough…the morning of the wedding the bouquet was MIA and I had to hop a bike and dash to get one, arriving at the venue just as the Bride was scheduled to come down from the car. Dirty and hair unmade I had 5 minutes to beautify, get dressed and mobilize ushers to serve guests because the hotel that we rented the venue from reneged on their promise to provide ushers. And to crown it all I wasn’t even on the wedding program at the end of the day. Let’s just say…if and when I do get married my sister owes me big time.
The whole attitude regarding marriages or should I say weddings is baffling (I’m such a dude when it comes to this…blank stare), why the fuss over a 1-1 ½ hour ceremony? For months…if not years…women hunch over wedding magazines scouring for THE dress, planning and purchasing even before she’s found the man to ‘ball and chain’. Almost from day one of the relationship she’s already started practicing variations of her surname…Mrs Him…Mrs Her-Him etc, and thinking wedding colours, cake designs and ashebi. The groom is totally in the dark…unaware of the trauma he will unleash on himself and his bank book when he gets down on one knee (this is still essential) and says “baby be mine!”
While at the reception venue…where we arrived way too early…sitting in the car whiling away time with my neighbour and her fiancé I started musing and wondered out loud why the need for the fanfare and not just a simple civil ceremony and be done with it. My neighbour was stunned and insisted her own wedding would be a flamboyant extravaganza…I saw her fiancé’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed saliva and mental reconsidered his proposal.
I then asked her was she planning to pay for the carnival called a wedding and she stated that she would contribute (this was said with little or no conviction). This got me marginally excited so I asked at what ratio, she said 60-40, sixty for him, forty for her. I laughed. At which I reminded her that the white wedding was a borrowed culture and therefore if it must be done it should be done properly. The expense of the white wedding and the rehearsal dinner is the responsibility of the bride’s father; the groom has absolutely nothing to do with it. Not a farthing or brass nickel should leave his pocket for the ceremony. All he has to do it rent a tux and enjoy the bachelor’s eve.
She pooh-hoo’ed this and literally put her hands over her ears so as not to hear another word on the topic. If I’d known I wouldn’t have started the discussion because a small battle started when she turned to her fiancé and asked him his opinion on my “registry then home” theory, as can be expected he supported my idea and the temperature in the car dropped to –10°C even with the blazing sun outside. If looks could kill he’d have had a cardiac, the look she gave him was enough to wither his nuts and cause them to drop off…which they did cos the next statement from his mouth was…”whatever you want baby…it’s your day after all” (men are such pussies *shaking my head vigorously*).
Now I have no problems with the fairytale wedding if you can comfortably afford it…emphasis on the words comfortably and afford (I mean…seriously… NO wedding isn’t worth soaking garri for)…but I have a problem with the double standards bit. After all the years of shouting “women’s rights” and “female emancipation” why be a kept woman now, after all it is your wedding day, the man is just a prop in the whole shindig so why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and be a ‘big girl’ and fork out your dough for your ‘dream’ wedding, ni? Why put all the years struggling for equal pay and recognition on the back burner for a fluffy white gown that you’ll most likely toss in a trunk the day after.
Now when (and if) I do get married (I can hear my mother’s shouts of hallelujah already) I’m going to KISS (Keep It Small and Simple)…a civil ceremony on an obscure day of the week with the minimum number of witnesses, then maybe a night out on the town with a few friends and family. If I’m feeling really generous we’ll book a suite in a hotel…you know the type with a massive lounge, open the buffet (sorry it’s a paid bar…y’all can get drunk on your own dime) and mingle. Or I might just do what my friend did. She and her fiancé (now husband) flew from their base in Germany to New York and brought a Justice of Peace to their hotel room, she in a black très sexy cocktail gown and a white orchid in her hair and he in a debonair smoking jacket and dress pants got hitched with no fanfare, and then hopped on the next plane to a tropical location, complete with white sands, coconut trees and blue water, for the honeymoon.
And that’s all folks, me and my rants on weddings et al signing out. That said here’s a quick question for all my single ladies (and guys) what kind of wedding day do you want and who should pay for what?

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

“Why Do Fools Fall in Love?” is both the title of a song done in the 60s by a singer called Frankie Liman and a movie done in the 90s about the same singer’s rise, fall and tragic death starring Halle Berry, Vivica Fox et al. it is also a question that has undoubtedly been asked by every poor sap who has ever had the molecularly devastating experience of having fallen in love…particularly with the wrong someone…i.e. 90% of the human race.

But seriously…why do people fall in love? I used to believe it was a matter of choice, we ‘choose’ to love an individual! Plain and simple…no neuroscience involved…simple choice. For reasons best known to the ‘faller’ they fall for the ‘fallee’.

My Dad “the fountain of all relationship wisdom”, has another theory…and I kinda like this one… “Falling in love is a form of psychosis”. Well at least in the early ‘heart racing, dry mouth, tingling nerves’ stage [NB: These symptoms are nearly identical to those experienced during the onset of a stroke, so kindly see a physician before assuming it’s love…you just might save a life…your own! *tongue in cheek* K] A veritable cocktail of mental and physical ailments.

Let’s look at it…what else but love, drugs (on a very bad trip) and mental illness (pregnancy included) can have a person run a gauntlet of extreme emotions in the space of five minutes: euphoria, racing pulse, tears, dryness of throat, palpitations, constricted breathing, sweaty palms, lack of concentration, excessive perspiration, temporary loss of speech, forgetfulness, daydreaming and manic depression. Love is SO good it makes you ill J. Now that, as I said, is Dad’s view *the genesis of my cynical p. o. v with regard to relationship maybe?* and it doesn’t help the case of love that the chemicals released by the body when in love are the exact same ‘feel good’ endorphins generated by something as innocuous as eating great chocolate. If I was running an ad for a choco bar it would read….

“Wanna feel real love? Without the heartbreak? Eat *Insert product name* and NEVER fall out of LOVE”

And an added point in choco’s favour is that dark chocolate is even kind to your heart…unlike love.

Another school of thought believes we love “just because”! Just because it is our nature to love. Those of a religious incline go a step further and say because our cosmic Creator is pure love we in His image are love and gravitate towards love. Nice try…but if I reference and loosely paraphrase the Bible (or even the Q’uran, Torah etc) and use modern day “religion’ as a reference point “Man by nature is bloody EVIL and sits down all day crafting, plotting and planning MASSIVELY GREAT mischief to do” (very, very, very loosely paraphrased but you get the drift, abi?)…and so saith the Lord! Now who am I to contest the word of the Highest Authority? Then again we were made in His image (depends on your religious p. o. v) and as the saying goes in Christendom “God is LOVE” so maybe be we ARE structured emotionally and spiritually to be givers and receptacles of love.

Whatever the reason (chemistry, biology, spirituality etc) LOVE is, has been, and shall ever be the elusive El Dorado that treasure seekers have sought, seek and will continue to seek. So the question still remains…why do fools (*points* YOU…yes you…you follow too) fall in love? If you know please let us know too, thanks…ok bye!

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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Sleeping with a Broken Heart

Hi, as I said I'm really gonna try and post with greater regularity. I'm kinda blank, but a line a day keeps atrophy away, abi? Whether I post what I write is a whole other story!

I'm a music lover as you should all now if you've been doing your homework...i.e reading my rantings, and though I listen to anything that makes sense and has a beat, certain songs reach me for bone. The title of this post should be familiar especially if you like Alicia Keys...even if you don't I'm guessing you should've heard this song.

I'm currently living this song :-( :'( *don't cry for me Argentina...I set myself up for the drop anyways* I'm finally single (well I think I am...see I'm not sure...I stated my case...said my piece and left the rest to my (not so)significant other...and his reply will determine my status) and I've learned that some cliches are rooted in fact. When people say used to say "I can feel my heart breaking" or "My heart hurts" I'd be like..."uh-uh...yeah right, n doh...now moving on!" Alas now I know how possible it is to feel such emotional pain that physically your heart actually aches. It feels like someone put your heart in a vice and squeezed the life outta you! And damn...shit hurts like a muthafucker!

Maybe if I could cry I'd feel better...water therapy I call it! Shed a few tears and cleanse your soul, but unfortunately I can't. My mind's being stubborn on this but I guess I caused it when I told myself I would never waste another tear on Bobo Mi again, now I wanna weep like a baby but no dice. It could be psychological too...crying for me is almost like a burial...I cry, I mourn, I cleanse and then I move on. "Hasta la vista, Sayonara, Adios Papi...so long" with Beyonce singing "to the left" in the background. Thus my not turning on the waterworks is like a stubborn reluctance to let go, holding on to the hope that it isn't really over...maybe? Or maybe I'm just emotionally vacant!

But I ask...how does one just let go? Of 7 years of whatever it was (whether relationship or long-term booty call)? Do you suddenly wake up and it's forgotten? Even if it got to a stage that you were just sick and tired of being sick and tired of the relationship, is saying "goodbye" ever easy? Just cos your brain is sound enough to know that you were on a runaway train to nowhere and jumping is the only option, does it necessarily follow that your heart will follow the wise counsel? Even when you know you deserve better than the status quo, it doesn't make it any easier to leave. The reality is no matter how bad a relationship might be...it has its bright spots. It can't all be bad. I guess it comes to a point you have to weigh the good against the bad and judge if the situation is one worth hanging on to.

Now as I said I'm not sure if I am back on the market...however that said Imma act like I is. I've been told the best way to get over a man is to get under another one (seriously...Gospel truth...I didn't make that one up!).

Dilemma: How do I put myself back on the market? And should I really? I've been offline so long i have absolutely no idea how to log on again! And how do I get over the feeling that I'm cheating on my Boo? Even accepting a drink from another guy that likes makes me feel uber-unfaithful sef!!

Where do I go to meet new men? Church? All the guys there I know are married. The Club? I don't think so! I'm looking for substance not a booty call...and anyways I still have my booty calls in my phone-book if I need a lil' something to break me off (rummaging through chest and dusts off 2005 phone-book).

Work? That so ain't the place...we have 4 guys there, the manager's married, the two engineers don't do nothing it for me...one's even younger than my kid brother, the last is the security guard and I think he's older than my Daddy. That aside sef...the office romance kini rarely ends well and administratively I'm a senior officer...so sexual harassment just jumps to mind :-D. The gym? Not registered and it's mainly women I see there, so unless I wanna get my lesbian fantasy going on...the gym's out!

My existing social circle maybe? Even that's a no-go area in some ways. If I dug the guys I know, we'd be hitting it already and not just being friends abi? There had to be a reason we settled as friends, and with some we've already tried the "more than friends" route and in a bid to preserve individual sanity called it quits before it became lyrics of a Snoop song i.e "murder was the case that they gave me."

I'm at a loss really! Maybe I'll finally buy me that vibrator for my birthday and say "fuck you very much" and be done with men, and finally put an end to sleeping with a broken heart!

Night-time!
And an empty bed!
Heartbeat raps a discordant rhyme
Upon this altar where spirits wed

Pillow held tight
Tears threatened,
ever ready to take flight.
Tension heightened

Chest contracts
Inside..the pain
Chest expands
No tears...but the fallen rain!

Again arrives the night-time!
Once more...an empty bed!
Clock strikes the hour, 3 AM chime!
Brokenhearted,
no more wed...
my spirit bled...
upon this ice-cold bed

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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The Five-Year Plan

I sat down recently and contemplated my existence and as usual it was a depressing event. I checked my prior year and the years before and asked myself what had I done with the time that I'd been granted. For those that are wondering why I waited till now to do this, it's quite elementary Watson (to borrow from the Great Sherlock Holmes)...my "new" year commences on the day of my birth, in this case 3rd June. Anyway that piece of trivia aside, I reviewed my goals and objectives and found I'd consistently fallen short of the mark on all of them, and let out a wail of frustration.
Some of the goals I'd set for myself were very un-SMART (for the non-management degree holders this means Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic and Timed). They lack concrete description, could not be quantified, were highly unattenable and totally unrealistic and had no timeframe attached to them. And pursuit of such goals is the path to the loony bin. Other goals were totally out of my control and depended on others for their fulfilment. More loony fest material. I thus sat with a pen and pad, the requisite cup of java, mobi turned off and a "Do not disturb" sign boldly displayed on my front door, and slowly began the change process.
Change is never totally an external phenomena, it tends more to be an in-out process as opposed to an out-in one. Sure, certain external events can promote change to an extent but fundamentally change occurs when you make the decision to, and my life was definitely due for a change. My external catalyst for change was my "boyfriend" who after 7 eventful years now told me he wasn't likely to get hitched to me (I had to ask! Times a-wasting, my hairs a-grayin). Talk about a kick in the ass! This got me thinking (at last...do I hear you chanting)! What was I waiting for? I have no major commitments, I'm still young, still have all my hair and most of my teeth and I'm still a hottie (yeah, yeah, I know, I know...modesty becomes me)...so why was I putting brakes on my future? Because I was waiting on a proposal that I now know isn't likely to materialize? Good question. I finally realized I was holding on with tenacity so I'd have an excuse if I failed to fulfil my potential.
I drew up a list (surprisingly it was very short) of what was "wrong" with my life, what I needed to do to change the wrong (still working on that one), what I wanted to achieve with my life (even shorter) and then how I intended to get there as well as put a timeframe on each activity.
The first thing I decided that I would do more of was take risks. As the saying goes "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and if I don't take chances I only have myself to blame when I swallow sour grapes. The first risk I took was to submit some of my writing to a magazine. My facebook followers and friends had always told me that I should take the writing gig seriously but I always brushed it aside as friends being friends and blowing smoke up my derriere. I guess fear of flying also played a role in my reluctance, the fear of falling flat on my face and receiving rejection slips. This time I said "f**k it, what's the worst that can happen?" and took a shot by following up on requests for freelance writers for an internationally based magazine. I just submitted my first articles and my by-line could be coming to a vendor near you pretty soon (fingers crossed they publish the drivel I sent).
Number two on my list was to see exactly where this Entertainment gig would take me. I'm now in the process of signing on two new acts (actually three if I count my actress) to my artist management outfit (and registering the same) and am set to audition as the anchor of a new TV show billed to take off next quarter.
I've still not finished drafting my five-year plan, but I think I'm making inroads on breaking the past five years jinx!

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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PLC Theory

Well I'm back in my school marm super hero disguise and ready to continue to (mis)educate you. I'm going to give you a very abridged marketing lesson (you guys should really start paying me for all this wisdom...I take AmEx, Mastercard, and InterSwitch payments although cash is preferable, what with all this bad credit going around!)
Anyway to the lesson at hand...the PLC, for laymen the Product Life Cycle. Every product has a life cycle, pretty much like a person's. The conception stage (R & D phase), the growth stage, the maturity stage, and the death or retirement stage.
First, some bright chaps in marketing come up with a product to serve a particular need or to improve upon an existing product. After spending mucho dinera on research, market surveys and branding etc the new product enters the scene.
It goes through a growth stage where product loyalty is developed and sales figures increase as more people become aware of the product. The maturity stage is when optimum usage or sales are reached. People are buying, word of mouth is good and everybody's happy...buyers feel their getting value for money and the producers are laughing to the bank (hopefully).
Then, comes decline. The market is saturated, product usefulness has run its course, imitators have arrived, market share and sales figures start to fall and eventually the product gets phased out. Now if the makers have their act together they can reinvent the product, discover new uses for the product, make entry into the market difficult for new contenders, engage in product diversification or modification etc during the maturity stage and extend the life cycle, but eventually the cycle must end.Now the same PLC theory exists in relationships. The conception stage of the relationship begins when Mr. A desires the hot new product, Ms. B.. Extensive research ensues...where does she hang out, what does she like, how does she roll? etc. Much capital and other resources are spent, surveys conducted and strategic planning engaged in to ensure smooth market entry.
Now depending on the desire of the man, the product maybe invested in as a prototype or beta test pending the release of the final product (Ms. F., G., H. or Z. Or if he's really in to Excel he could product test till Ms. IJ256!), or he might see Ms. B as the finished product.
The relationship progresses tentatively (the growth stage), everybody on their best behaviour and the market share of Ms. B increases as Mr. A begins to "buy" her way, and her uses are discovered.
All things being equal, we progress to the maturity stage. Ms. B's been accepted and her market share has reached its peak, and the issue of competing products arises and new entrants flood the market.
How does Ms. B maintain her market dominance?
A smart business person might choose to:

• re-brand the product along with an extensive new marketing strategy showcasing the product's alternate uses; (she flips the script and shows him other sides of her)
• engage in product adaptation or modification to meet the changing demands of the buyer (she attunes to his changing needs and grows with him);
• introduce of a supplementary product to increase the usefulness of and spark desire for the initial product (in this case fast forward 9 months); or
• simply find ways to remind the buyer why he was loyal to the product initially (she keeps giving that 'good good').

Now if Ms. B has been successful in warding off the competition she should be married, and only retired by death (usually Mr. A's).
However, as we sadly know, not all products are successful in the open market, it could be that:

• the product was a mismatch for the buyer (she wasn't the girl for him),
• the product's entry into the market was ill timed (he wasn't ready to settle down or she was too emotionally immature to settle down),
• the product failed to deliver (she wasn't who she said she was),
• the product maker failed to fully understand the market thus failing to adapt to changing user requirements (she got too comfortable, and forgot to pay attention and research his changing needs) or
• it was simply a bad market (he was just the wrong guy)

Whatever the case or cause, the product failed to satisfy the end user (Mr. A).A smart business person, if they decide to reintroduce the product, will analyse the reasons for the initial failure, reassess the target market demographics (make sure she's looking at the right type of man), align the product for market compatibility (make sure she's the right woman) and work out the kinks before relaunch (check bad attitudes, develop emotional maturity etc). Likewise in a failed relationship, a wise woman should assess, reevaluate and workout her lapses (if any) in the previous relationship, and then reintroduce herself appropriately repackaged for her new target market.
Originally Posted: 26 April 09

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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My Talk with God

Recently I had a talk with God. It'd been awhile, so long that I'm even ashamed to put a date on it. Anyway...as usual it was a bit of a one-sided conversation with me doing all the talking and getting nothing in way of a reply...not even one of those moments of clarity, or a dream to say 'OK! I hear you already!!!'. Nada! Niente!!!

Notwithstanding I continued on my ethereal 20 Questions and prayed that answers would come somehow in the physical. I said a prayer for my family, even managed a few for my nation and state of birth. I didn't pray for world peace because I'm not so sure of my state of Grace to be so eager for God to come down and Armageddon to begin. Yeah, yeah...selfish I agree, but at least I'm honest about it! I put my friends in the mix, said a prayer for my enemies (again I'm being honest...I have enemies and don't front about it, but I did ask God to give me a renewed heart where they're concerned).

30 hours later I rose from my sanctuary none the wiser, with no enlightenment of any sort but a lightening of my soul all the same from bending God's ear and purging myself of all the thoughts I can't say in public for fear of being locked up in the psycho ward. However I was left with a simple realization. God no longer speaks from Sinai to instruct, He no longer sends manna from the heavens. No, but he gives you a vision in your heart of what is (and could be) in your grasp and has given you all you need to fulfil it.

Not quite the word I wanted, not exactly what I wanted to hear! He left the responsibility for my success or failure squarely with me. So if in life's journey I fail or fall, I can not blame anyone but myself seeing as I refused to do the work (as Paul said faith without work is dead) and closed my eyes to the tools He has given me to fulfil my task and destiny. However, even if I fail and fall a thousand times, the true sin would be to never get up and try again. Or to give up just when the dawn is about to break.

Many of us fall to achieve our true potential, not because of the people in the village or enemies at the gates, but because we either fail to truly harness our gifts or bug out just cause the going gets hard. We instead take the easy route of conformity to Man's rules, eagerly accepting what people say is reality, what is normal, what is achievable. The greats whose words we quote on the daily were in their day nonconformists. They realized what seed was in their hands and against society's expectations and suggestion strove to achieve the impossible and the improbable.

Thomas Edison, Theodore Roosevelt, Johannes Sebastien Bach, Abraham Lincoln, Nelson Mandela to name just a few. Adversity shapes a man and makes him strong. If it came to us easy we'd never truly appreciate our blessings. The only thing that seperates us from those that have succeeded is time and dedication. One year, 5 years, 10 years seems a long time, but on God's calendar it's just a blink of the eyes, and as they say...patience is a virtue!

We all have been given talent, irrespective of our beginnings, irrespective of who our daddies are, irrespective of our gender, disabilities, creed or state of origin. And each talent left to lay fallow, left unharvested and left to rot is an abominable sin. Discover what it is God gave you, groom it, grow it and channel it positively and as He said by the fruits of your labours you shall be made wealthy.

Originally Posted: 13 May 09

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Robert Lindsey

Ok...I'm relatively easy going and believe in freedom of expression, but where I draw the line is when people expose their colossal ignorance, bigotry and unabated racism and talk utter bullshit from a 'dem say' point of view without having valid first hand knowledge. Today I read one of the most asinine and ignorant pieces I've read in a long while, and the author of this drivel is 'allegedly' a Masters holder (from which University I wonder) and thus should know the importance of adequate unbias research. I also took time to read other blog posts by this same anti-semitic, african hating **** (think colorfully...like a drunk sailor in a bar and fill in the blanks) and have concluded that the man has major MAJOR issues (padded room and straight jacket written in his horoscope...if he doesn't do a 'Columbine' and slaughter a bus load of immigrants first that is!).
For those that wish to read the offensive article that got me spewing expletives before my meditation, the link is Robert "highly racist, anti-semitic bigot" Lindsey.
Now I won't dispute some of the points he raised (even though his statistics were heavily skewered and exceedingly bias) but his manner and tone was beneath civilized, his statements were derogatory and smacked of personal angst. If he had approached the issues from an unbiased view point Nigerians and others would have responded in a more supportive manner, but his aggression started from the title itself and continued throughout his slightly psychotic ravings.
Below is the comment I wrote in response to his inane rantings recorded here in case he decides not to publish it.

Dear Mr. Lindsey,
I was initially ticked off (putting it very very mildly) when I read your blog post, but after taking time to engage in deep breathing techniques my clarity returned and I found myself overcome with great pity for you! What else can I have for someone who wears his prejudices and bigotry so proudly on his chest as if it were a bronze star and exhibits his gross stupidity, myopia, racism and illiteracy (education consists of more than acquiring degrees).
I've been fortunate to have travelled to a few of the places you so caustically disparaged (most recent being Manilla, as well as having the (mis)fortune of a 1st World (says you!) upbringing) and although some issues do exist it is nowhere near as bad as you erroneously claim.
With regard the Nigerian scam artistry issue get your facts right. Nigeria is yet to produce an scammer with as much skill as say umm...America's own Madoff! Neither have we attempted to sell off the London Bridge or the White House as some of your fellow citizens have. And usually people that get scammed are either greedy, naive or just plain dumb. And pleeeeease who is so so lame as to have to resort to internet dating...don't have women in your own country?
We don't have cases of serial killers, or people waking up in the mornin hating self and humanity and going on senseless killing sprees for the heck of it like you crazed and deranged whiteys.
You should speak from experience not hearsay for your rantings to be taken moderately seriously or maybe this is like Candid Camera and we'll find out that you're just jossin with us and this is just a big joke and you really aren't this retarded.

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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Who am I?

Strange question to ask, right? But a meaningful one all the same. Who am I? Who are we? What defines a (wo)man, what constitutes their identity? Is it their name? Does your name determine who you are or will be? Does being called John Doe instead of Mark Adams change who you are? Is it gender that makes one who they are? Does being male rather than female affect your basic 'self'?

Does who your daddy is (or isn't ) make you the person you are? Or less than the next man or woman on the street? Is it the color of your skin? Should your heritage or place of origin determine who you are? Maybe yes or maybe it is the collectivity of all these!

We (our true 'self') are not formed or developed by one factor alone. 'No man is an island' as the saying goes and neither do we exist in a vacuum. It is all the factors above and our daily interactions that make us WE.

That said, have you ever stopped to think...how have I impacted on developing someone...good or bad.

Every day, it seems, we are bombarded by stories in the media about people waking up in the morning and deciding life sucks and everybody should be dead. Kids wake up, take a loaded gun, and kill their classmates, teachers and then themselves. Journals and diaries tell a case of bullied, teased and belittled individuals, gradually being to hate. Don't get me wrong...I don't condone the actions of these people,but I do ask this...wasn't there anyone who treated them like people and showed kindness and love? Wasn't there anyone who gave them a reason to love in return?

In your day to day activities you meet people and have an effect on the lives of those you meet. We tend not to think that our actions or inactions toward people profoundly affect their lives and actions. That smile on your face when you say hello, or the simple 'thank you' you utter could be the thing that stops the person thinking of suicide from jumping. That kind deed, done without expectation of thanks or reward, might be the very thing that restores an individual's faith in people. That kind word, that sincere compliment given might be the very thing that lifts the spirit of a downcast individual.

It may seem that you can do nothing about the way of our world today, but our actions help, in part, to make people who they are.

Take time to be kind, to be selfless, to be concerned about your fellow 'man' and you could be the one who changes the future.

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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That Crazy Psycho Bitch!!!

Now I'm one of those people who hate when guys use the words ho, skank, bitch etc to describe women as it's just damn plain disrespectful to the entire female gender. Especially when we remember that all men are of woman born. However no better epitaph than the title given fits this particular classification of woman. I mean let's check it...crazy psycho babe, crazy psycho lady, crazy psycho woman, crazy psycho chick...none of them have quite the same ring as crazy psycho bitch, now do they?

Many of my male friends have lamented their encounters with certain daughters of Eve and have had no better name for their erstwhile love interests then 'that crazy psycho bitch'. Their stories have sent chills down my spine and made me wonder what genetic flaw could make the once loving girlfriend suddenly turn to Freddy Kruger of Nightmare on Elm Street fame. Is there something in the female gene code that triggers psychosis in us? Is there a particular chromosome that turns a relatively (cos truth told most human beings are only about 80% mentally stable on average) stable woman into the Bride of Frankenstein revisited when she enters a relationship? Or is it the men that trigger the response?

In a piece I wrote awhile back (Commitment Pt. 1) I compared a relationship to time in a psychiatric facility...(after all the word commitment could refer to exclusivity in a relationship, dedication to something, or a spell in an asylum!) and I asked whether relationships made people crazy or simply acted as a catalyst and merely triggered a latent congenital precondition. I've seen otherwise sane and intelligent women turn stalker, forgetting their own lives and careers and trailing their men's every movement (or squandering money better spent on Jimmy Choos, paying people to spy on him.)

Technology has also increased the power of the female stalker. Now she spends every available minute tracking his MySpace, DiggIt, Facebook, Twitter etc activities and posting hate-mail to every female on his list. God help him if she gets her hands on his password...she either sends insulting emails to everyone from his boss to his mother, or simply deletes all correspondence and contacts. GSM technology has also changed the path of relationships and brought psychosis to greater heights. Now she steals his phone to check his call log and (either using his phone, her phone or a business center) calls everyone warning them to stay clear. A friend of mine told me of such a case where his (now ex)girlfriend called his sister and warned her to leave her man alone. The SMS in-box and outboxes are not safe either. Messages sent even before they were an item are reacted upon immediately, the same thing as with the call log. As one US rapper lamented to his boo in a rhyme...'it's called an iPhone not a Us-Phone'. Damn girl...the privacy thing goes BOTH ways.

I've been on the receiving end of this, with strange women calling me at 2 or 3 in the morning to tell me to leave 'so and so' alone or else! When I was younger this would have proved sufficient motivation to date the guy even if I initially had no thought of the initially (I hate people threatening me or accusing me of crap I didn't do). Now (older and moderately wiser), I'd laugh, but instead I feel a slight sympathy for the woman, so insecure in her relationship that she has to spend time better spent sleeping or having sex, harassing poor women like me!!

Now...if she's not calling all his ex(?)-girlfriends (real or imagined), she's calling him! Not once in a day mind you, but 15 to 20 times in the space of 3hrs (maybe it's just me, but c'est tres beaucoup EXCESSIVE=CRAZY!!), that aside she still sends 10 or more SMS messages between calls. If, for any reason whatsoever, (none of her business if he's in the middle of a meeting to cement a multi-billion naira deal) he doesn't pick her call he's with another woman! She routinely checks his clothes for makeup smudges and lipstick stains, her nose is always on active duty for strange perfume odors. She goes as far as doing his laundry so she can check for sperm discharges on his boxers! If he's late arriving home he must be coming from his latest catches house (she's timed the journey from his office to house to the nanosecond and recruited his guard or neighbor's child to serve as watchdog). Unfortunately for her, all these actions succeed in only one thing...sending the brother running and screaming for dear life to the hills. Hell, they're not even married yet and have been dating for all of six weeks, she's acting like she owns him and has the C of O in her handbag!

Now I know there are men out there who can actually drive a woman to such madness with their underhand and damned right sneaky behaviour, but most guys are pretty straight up and involved in their relationships (I'm really being very kind with this assumption!). I don't think it's a trust issue either. It's not about whether she trusts the guy, but more about her self-esteem. I mean if you're like me and know you're fly, why would any guy cheat on you? (I know...I'm very modest). OK...so I'm just joking there, but truthfully if you know that you're a good woman and deserving of respect, and you know that you carry yourself as such, even a guy who's an absolute dog'll treat you that way i.e with respect. If he values you he'll put a damper on his gaming or at worst keep it out of your line of sight because he thinks you are special.

When a woman is the type that is independent of her relationship, and can find her happiness outside her man, and seeks her own pleasure, letting him be himself; the man tends to want to spend more time with her. Why? Because she's stress-free. She prioritizes the relationship, sure, but it isn't her only priority. Her life does not revolve around him, she realizes that he is only an addition to and not the whole of her life. And if homeboy doesn't appreciate the fact he's on to a good thing...his loss...not yours

Personally, I have a policy, it's very simple and not mind-blowing, but it's helped me from entering psycho bitch status...I follow the advice of the Three Monkeys, that is Hear no evil, See no evil and Speak no evil and evil shall be far from you. What I don't know won't kill me, and if I don't go looking for trouble I won't find it. I really don't care to know what secrets his email account holds, nor his SMS boxes. Neither do I want to know where he is or who he's with when he isn't with me. I don't want to know who he's calling or who called him. I don't care who he's kissing on the side, cos he ends up in my bed not hers. As Ashante sings in her song..."I've got the good good". And I don't listen to tale bearers, my body dey phone me when wahala dey!

Curiosity slayed the cat and he had nine lives, I only have one and have no intention wasting it worrying about any man even if he's my husband!

PS: I'd like to know for research purposes readers encounters with CPBs (please feel free to change the bitch to bastard if you need to...men are not exempt from the crazy psycho label either). And CPBs are welcome to tell what drives them to it.

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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By the Window

I sit by the window and watch life go by

Everyone's in motion but I.

My life stagnates like water in a pail,

They live, they love

They laugh, they cry

But I…

I sit by the window and watch life go by.

One day maybe

I'll join in life

But for now it seems

I'm destined sit by the window and watch life go by.

 

Written: 18 October 2005

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Here I Stand!!

"HERE I reflect... looking inward, I believe I speak for most (wo)men when I say that in life, you're tempted to find ways to occupy the emptiness and loneliness you feel with temporary fixes. The more I tried to feed that void, the more I hungered. My search for oneness eluded me because the superficial shrouded me. Being truthful can be hard, but lying to oneself is harder. Sooner or later, you realize there's something missing in life. Something meaningful...something spiritual"

There's a group that I'm digging right now. They're called The Script. I heard a song from them called 'Breakeven' about the realities of ended relationships and I was kinda hooked. Interest piqued I dug further and chanced upon a track called 'Fall for Anything'. The chorus has a line that goes '...stand for something or you'll fall for anything'.

Now the song is actually a cry to women about listening to the same old lines spewed out by men to get a little somethin' somethin' but it got me questioning...'What do I REALLY stand for?'. And I'm sad to say I found I could think of anything.

It was a hard truth to accept! And more questions arose. What is there in my life that I would willingly fight for... die for? Apart from my children, to whom I have a moral obligation, I could think of nothing. What ideals govern my life? I'd like to say I'm incorruptible, morally above board, dedicated to something, but I can't! I realized that I'm just a person who floats on the currents of life's endless sea. Moving from one day to another, or should I say moved by the winds of destiny, towards my imminent demise.

If I were to die today, what legacy would I leave behind? What would I have done of note? What would I be remembered for? How many lives would I have touched? I have only one answer to give...Nothing!!!

I have found on bitter and sober reflection that I, as I stand here, stand for nothing!

"HERE I kneel...bowing my head in prayer. Remembering the times when I grew weary gives me humility. Knowing that change is never easy. I have confronted life's trials with passion, determination, and resilience. God's voice orders my steps. I am not perfect, but I am emboldened by His promise... I pray for the strength to speak up for what I believe in, and most importantly, to stand up for what is right!"

The above quote speaks volumes to my heart and I pray that when the time comes I can say boldly...HERE I STAND!!!

Quotes from Usher Raymond's "Here I Stand" single. Tweet It...You know you wanna

I'm Better Than You!!!

I gain great satisfaction from being in the position to thumb my nose at other people and say "lookee, I'm better than you." The joy of being able to say (even if it's only to myself alone) I'm better than Mr. A or Ms. B, is damned near orgasmic. The pure joy of it can't be expressed adequately in words.
Highly sanctimonious behaviour I agree but we all do it! How many times have we gleefully rejoiced at another's disgrace when their private dirty little misdeeds become publicly aired like laundry and said "I wouldn't have done that" or "I wouldn't be so stupid as to get caught" thinking we are wiser, smarter and generally better than the "culprit". I accept my human nature and don't pretend about it even though I do feel some 'very slight' sympathy for the disgraced soul, but the sympathy stems not from empathy but rather from the fact that I just thought of all my own dirty laundry hidden away in the closet and rue the day it might also come to light.

Originally Posted: Jan 11, 2009. Tweet It...You know you wanna

I Want It All\Resource Scarcity!

Disclaimers and buyer beware signs are back in force, I'm officially back on the Love Train! Yipee :-)
Alright, I'm down from my little soap box and back to being an apostle of love (or whatever you call it).
When I was younger (not that I'm OLD, but younger than I am today) I had the belief that I could have it all...great job, great man, great family and a body like Halle Berry's after having the requisite 2.4 children. I still want to believe it's a possibility, but my brain says...hell no! But why not? Why isn't it possible to have everything? Why can't one have it all?
For a brief moment let's look at life as an ongoing business concern. No one starts a business aiming to fail...so business plans are written, partnerships formed, mission and vision statements are composed, SMART objectives, short- and long-term goals, targets and KPIs are established (if you're a smart business owner that is!). Now...every business is plagued by a recurring theme...resource scarcity! Thus activities must be prioritized...ranked in order of importance and resources allocated efficiently and effectively to help meet set objectives. If resources aren't supplied and scheduled just right...chaos ensues! The Japanese managers utilise the JIT (Just In Time) philosophy, supplying operational needs and resources as at when due to minimise overhead costs. The cherished resources include money, raw materials, human resources and time.
Ok! MGT 101 over. Job! Man! Family! You! Resource scarcity! There's only one me and God only gave the day 24hrs. How do I split myself equitably so that nothing suffers (including me)? Time is the greatest enemy. As women, socially, emotionally and biologically we are fundamentally programmed as 'nesters' (...home and hearth types). It isn't a Cinderella complex...that's just the way it is...we are designed to propagate! Like men...we also have the achievement drive. We want to succeed. But therein lies the Catch 22, can we fulfil both our 'feminine' urge to nest and our 'masculine' need for gratification\fulfilment and come out of the experience guilt-free? If we work the 12-14+ hours necessary to survive the corporate jungle what time's left for the rest? What time is left for tucking in kids at bed time (so that they don't start thinkin Aunty Ika is mummy), when you get home after 3 hours lost in traffic? What time is left to take care of your 'Madam' duties (so that Daddy doesn't start thinkin Aunty Ika is mummy)? How do you share the 24 hours? How do you share YOU? Something has to give! Job? Man? Family? Can we juggle all these balls without dropping one?
Is this a damned if you do, damned if you don't dilemma? If you concentrate on the career...are you selfish (and being successful does require an amount of selfishness and single-mindedness, and yes...ruthlessness)? If you concentrate on the family...are you an under-achiever? Do men have these same issues?
I'm not saying women can't have it all...hell...I want it all...but it's a high risk stunt, a bit like walkin a tight rope without a safety net...any miscalculation...SPLAT!
But hey...life itself is a risk...take the chance...you just might make it across the wire!

Posted: Jan 22, 2009 Tweet It...You know you wanna

Inevitable Change?!

No disclaimers or buyer beware statements today, just a question.
Before I ask you the question let's check some definitions. Change...change can be defined as moving from one state of existence, or from one transitionery stage to another. Change is a natural constant, even the earth is constantly changing. Change could be rapid or gradual taking years or a millenium. Change may be subtle or pronounced. However, no matter its mode or its process, one thing remains... whether you like it or not things MUST change.
We tend to be very ambivalent regarding the matter of change. If it's a good change we're all for it and worthy advocates of the change of state. If the change is painful, hard or unwanted then the story changes.
In the recently concluded US Presidential election and campaign which culminated in the swearing-in of the first ever African-American into the White House, President Obama's main thread was Change, that the time had come to move from the status quo. The American populace agreed with him and voter turnout during the elections was the highest in US electoral history in at least 30 odd years.
On the 20th of January 2009, millions of people across the globe gathered in front of televisions and large screens to watch America make history. Nigerians appeared to be more overjoyed than the owners of the property.
Now my first question is...what makes America any different from our own obodo Naija? America didn't wake up civilized or organised but went through violent birth pains, and still is, to arrive where it is. Order didn't appear overnight, more often it came through a violent and bloody process. Is it the people that cause the seeming difference? It isn't that Americans are not also as criminally inclined (if not more so) than the average Nigerian but systems exist, that are generally respected by all, that provide checks and balances and thus limit peoples' criminality.
We may argue that systems don't work over here and that those in positions of power refuse to allow change. However i can't place the blame on the 'leaders' totally. I recently went to an office within the secretariat, I needed something done and a procedure exists for handling my request. However I needed it done NOW -NOW and the official processing time is 10 working days. Being the typical Nigerian i circumvented a lot of laid down rules. I waived the online payment only law, gave gratuity, and within 36 hours i was done. We demand change from our leaders but feel exempt from the process itself ourselves. Americans stated categorically that they were ready for change via their votes, may be we need to review our change policy. If we say individually and collectively "NO i will not circumvent the process just because i can...or because its painful or inconvenient", "i will not jump the queue, i will not sit at home and allow myself be defranchised." "I will stop bitching about what doesn't work and instead do my share to make it work".
The book of Proverbs is full of words of wisdom to the foolish. Severally people are cautioned about sloth, you want to eat but are too lazy to put the spoon in your mouth, what next? You drop dead of course after a while. We can not continue to ask, pray and beseech for change and then refuse our function as change agents. We constantly say 'e go better' but then wait for others to act as catalysts for the change. Now if the job belongs to no one in particular, and everyone is waiting for someone to do it, eventually no-one does it. I believe as we keep shouting YES WE CAN! But the real question is...do we really WANT to?

Posted: Jan 22, 2009 Tweet It...You know you wanna

The Truth.

What exactly constitutes the TRUTH? Is there truly an 'absolute' truth? Is my truth less true than urs or more so? Is truth subjective or relative? My truths are a function of my own realities. So therefore...will my truths change when my realities do? Or are there fundamental truths in my life that will remain?
When i was younger i thought truth was a virtue, something to be sought, but now that i'm a little older (and hopefully a little wiser) i discover that truth is sometimes a bad thing. The truth shall set you free (or so they say)...the quest for which is at times a prison in itself.
In court they ask for the truth, the whole truth and nothin but the truth...but how true is the truth?
Posted: Nov 14, 2008. Tweet It...You know you wanna

(Re)writing History...

How often have you told your story? Each year you tell the same story...or a variant of the same story. The essence is fundamentally the same, but an amount of embellishment is present. In the tellin of your story this time around you were maybe a little braver, a little smart? You were the master of the witty retort, the pure poetry of your rejoinder rivalled the greats...Shakespeare, Milton and Yeats. You stood up and were counted. You were the voice of reason and rationale. The buck stopped with you and like a colossal you took charge.
As a wise man said history is the victor's PR, the loser's version of history is seldom heard. Tracy Chapman aptly stated in her song Telling Stories "...there is fiction in the space between...you can write it down but it doesn't mean that you're not just telling stories. " But as she also states "sometimes a lie is the best thing" as the truth would be too much truth to bear. Alas, it is only in our words we rewrite the past, the deeds remain unchanged. Since we cannot truly change the past, and the future is not ours to know, the only history worth writing is the action we take in the present.
Posted: Oct 30, 2008. Tweet It...You know you wanna