who am i?

"I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself." - CS Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I’m a compulsive spender, I can’t have money in my hands and not spend, i cant have my atm with a fully debited account and not spend. I used to console myself with the fact that mom loves to shop too, i mean she’s the one I’m taking after right? my dreams of her smiling into my eyes and giving me this hug as she praises me on being her daughter indeed by knowing how to shop quickly fades when a look of anger bore out of irritation(more of resignation these days) is directed at me as she says ‘you spend like you’ve got millions stashed somewhere, when would you grow up and be responsible’...well i know i don’t got millions yet(but very soon), i know there’s no hidden trust fund from a rich grandparent, well somewhere at the back of my mind i still hope somehow to discover I’m the daughter to a long lost favorite cousin of Aliko Dangote....

So my habit is not hereditary, or maybe it is but not from mom,cos mom shops with a portion of her head on her shoulders, and besides she earns enough to indulge, and she deserves to spoil herself after going through so much, and her spending isn’t entirely on herself but on her kids and then there’s her sisters too(they just got to have em uniformed laces and stuff), so that doesn’t classify her as careless...but then there’s moms younger sister who i was so close to when growing up, she is such a shopaholic monster, she’d buy a pair of shoes and purse in every color just because…well just because they’re in different colors, then she sees the lace and has to have them all... she’s at oxford street as early as the shops open and there till its so dark,next day its Liverpool looking at laces and hollands. come to think of it, I think we both are kindred spirits, maybe we both take after a great great aunt who loved to trade kola nuts for hair treads or chewing sticks for loin clothes, maybe she was the shopper of their time, always bartering things all day long The only problem is aunty K can afford her excesses and well...bite me i'm always broke.

Why am i talking shopping? Ah...yes. Princessa/prisca/princes/princesa? and a couple of we bloggers decided to attend the carnival together (yes i hung with the celeb herself). Meeting points at the palms mall. As usual I’m earlier then everyone, i think I’ll wait in the car, I’ve avoided the mall for so long, I’m trying to learn how to save, i haven’t been to any atm or gone to the bank in a week, things are working out fine for me except I cant stand waiting in the car, so I walk out and promise myself I’ll just get a couple of books and head back to the car. I get the books head back to the car, but I still don’t feel right, I’m not even excited about the books I just got which is strange (imagine giving candy to a child and she's still sulking), i have to go in again and there it is, at the display window of tiffany amber is a mannequin with a red tee and the word SALE boldly written on it (and that single word rocked my world).
Listen to me, never walk into a STORE when there’s a sale going on, especially an overpriced store with beautiful things in it, because you’d spend more than you will on a non sale day. It’s just a big ploy to make you spend more. So I’m going crazy and thinking to myself how tiffany amber can do a sale without me knowing, I mean what happened to those annoying sms they always send?..., I’m mad at them but I decide to go in. 'I’m just looking' i whisper to myself, knowing quite well its all bluff....Mr Unnaked finally arrives, he saved me from picking two extra dresses as I only had time to try on two from the four I picked. my victory for actually saving is short lived as i wipe out my card and close my eyes as its swiped and my cool cash magically disappears. i bought two over prized unneccessary dresses. *sigh*

The beach was fun, we had such a good good time, I hate to admit that after all the fear of going into the waves, I sort of loved the water, I’ve never gone that close to the water in all my days of chilling at the beach. Although I’m all itchy now, who cares? It was worth it…..

P.S this is a note to unnaked and Tayo Odukoya, I was a proud member of the AA(alcohol anonymous) and unnaked had to jinx that by dragging me into newscafe and taunting me with shots of vodka(ahhh, vodka)…SA(shopping anonymous)if you guys came just a little bit early i never would have shopped, and CS(cosmopolitan anonymous) for two months I held out on reading and buying cosmo mags cos 'who am I practicing all the tips in it with' and I don’t really need a man do I? but the questions from those two of ‘why don’t you have a boyfriend?’ and the look it was said with…jeez that look. Twas enough to send me back to buying cosmopolitan and reading all them articles of 'how the right ones really been there all along'.
suddenly, you guys make me loose belief in myself that I’m cool like that, with who I be and my love for self…I suddenly felt like a pathetic young lady and now I’m back to reading all em’ silly 'how to' articles....and yes a CA too(cooffe anonymous) i've been consuming gallons of coffee, dont know who to blame this on tho.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

sod cupid!

took down the post i had up...made me sound like i was pathetic girl lacking love and in denial big time which of course i claim not to be...i turned down dates didnt i? so its not like i'm a loser who cant get a date...ok, now i'm making excuses.
whatever i'm having a blast today...self love rocks my world...well and my pocket too, but who cares as long as its rocking yeah.

freaksho (follow the link to read the comments)made us write some roses are red kind of thingy on his blog, it was fun reading all the crazy things we wrote there.
but ozaveshes sure rocked my world, it goes like this...freaksho so sorry but i've got to steal this from yours. sue me, i dont care.lol
it goes like this...

The roses are dead
the violets are too
(its happening to all the flowers
that Cupid once grew)...

not surprising it was picked as the fave.
so whats the dude trying to say? cupid is a yahozeeeeeee, 419ner, a con artist..whatever, just that we cant completely trust the arrows he sends flying around.

have a happy vals day y'all.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

valentine blues...

its so crappy the way the stores taunt you with all the red hearty decors on display,plus the dresses on display double crap, sort of like 'i bet you aint got a valentine, but you could as well get a pressy for yourself' tripple crap at em'.
i'm a red girl, i love red, thus my nails are almost always done up in red, but i go the salon on saturday for my manicure and as usual ask for a red polish and this chic is smiling knowingly at me and says 'feeling the season eh?' jeez, i'm a natural everyday red loving girl, i don't do red for the season...its crazy the way everyone goes gaga in red for valentine...

i wrote this a year ago in my journal and some other blog,its what i planed to do for last years valentine....
i've done what most ladies who love dressing up like me usual do...trying on clothes and just parading in front of the mirror, feeling pretty and all. there i was standing on a pile of discarded unworn pretty dresses,loving my new skinny look...thats when i knew that its high time i swallow my pretty girl bullshit, and all the farce of "whats the whole valentine buzz?", because as much as i want myself to be oblivious to it, i ain't, and i'll be damned if i don't have a good time this time, with or without a date... i could be my own special valentine, tell me how much i love me, give me flowers and chocolates and candies and heart shaped cakes and everything....i'll get those lovely red cards with red hearts and cute teddys and smile at me and be grateful to me for doing that for me, then to show my appreciation to me i'll dress up real nice and sweet(maybe one of the red dresses i tried on today), go out to a nice chinese or maybe mexican resturant(even though i'm not so crazy about them) or i could just go to newscafe and get me a nice takeout with a bottle of red wine(Italian, if i havent spent the whole of my money on splurging on beautiful shoes), so i'll get the food with the wine and then sit at home, in my room, surrounded with scented candles(red and white, saw some nice ones at the mall today), my light switched off ,the love songs playlist on my ipod playing, i'll have conversation with me( as babyface,chante moore and whoever it is plays softly in the background), and know more about me, then i'll run a nice hot bath with some scented oils and maybe a cocobutter sugar scrub,feel silky and fresh with myself, cuddle up with me and the teddy i might get from the bookstore today, and doze off to a place where i am queen, my fantasy land, with my prince charming, the perfect valentine date ever waiting for me on his horse...how sweet(except, i'll have to wake up in the morning with a headache from finishing a bottle of wine the night before)....or maybe not, maybe i might just give the whole valentine hype a try, agree to go out on a real date for once, maybe i'd do it, after all its better to try it and hate it than never trying at all...

plan didnt work, was sick silly in bed, no self date, no pretend date,no real date, just a bubbling fever, tried playing the love tunes and light the candles i bought before i got sick, ended up throwing up b4 the first song was through and the scent from the candle just killed my soul.
but at least i got a very fat cash from bro in law. and they changed their dinner plans to a family one by taking me along with the kids to protea for dinner. i'm sure the look on my sick killed many a mood at the restaurant, wondering if that sour look i had was of disgust at their idea of love.

well this year, sadly is the same story, poured my latest purchases on the bed and oh my, a bunch of red dresses and accessories tumbled out. it wasn't a planned purchase, i didnt plan on buying red stuff or even shopping, i'm supposed to be on a money diet,but like i sad i love red and the dresses were just taunting and daring me to buy plus they looked like they had my name on on them, you know, like they were so miserable in the store and it was only me that could rescue them, being the Darline i am, i couldn't let em go......uh...i'm a spendalious shopaholic...HELP!

so what am i going to do with the dresses? i have no idea, i've tried them on and they look so so cute, but i haven't agreed to any date for valentine, for one reason or the other i cant decide who to go out with anyone, maybe cos deep in my heart, i'm a hopeless romantic, i love the idea of vals, but i wouldn't waste the day on a date just because....i've thought it through and i know what i want,i want a date that did be the closest thing to the reason for the season,someone i truely love, i could look across the table at him and not think 'when is this going to be over, dont want to miss the news, did i remember to set one tree hill on record' or 'hurry with the gift busta'..lol(ok, i dont really think that)but then it'd be nice to think nice eldorady thoughts on val dates, thats why i want to go out with the one i love.
so i guess i might chill home and carry over my last years plan since i didnt get to do it.
...imma have a ball, hope y'all have the perfect date for the day, if no ones asked you out before then, just spend the day loving you and getting to know you better, you just might love it more...ciao!

Saturday, February 9, 2008

8 is the number......

wasnt going to do a post today, then i was going to repost this. its something i wrote on one of my daddy why? times. but then here i am tapping away...

its been eight years since he left, such a long time that just seems like a day ago. just like yesterday when i looked him in the eye with something close to hatred, typical of a hormone raging teenage girl, just cos he wont give money for me to buy that georgeous white pumps i needed to have for sunday mass in school.
i climbed into the car and sulked as the driver zoomed off, but not before i gave mom the biggest clingiest hug barely sparing him a glance(to make him feel bad), not even acknowledging the sad wave he gave with that smile on his lips he always had when he was amused at me, the smile many have said i take after.

barely three weeks into my semester in school, i got a letter from him, one i glanced through like i do now at those boring meeting minutes at the office. then i discarded it. i was still mad at him, not for the shoes but for the fact that i still loved him despite his blunder(which i had realized made sense)and he still loved me despite my bratty attitude and the fact that i couldnt understand my emotions.

eight years since that day that i whispered the whole 2hours of night prep away, telling a random friend RT about dad, reminiscing on the wonderful times we've had and how i missed that i always smiled at him and how i never understood why i would always get mad at him in recent times...i talked and talked and cried my frustration all out,not knowing or maybe somehow knowing that at that moment the only man i loved only slightly above my brother was taking his last breath.

i remember me being picked up from school with some bull story, not really caring why they let me home for some dinner party for my sis,i was just happy at getting out of boarding school for a few days, cos suddenly i was depressed there. then i got home and i heard the news...all i could think of was not my daddy, not my strong man, my super hero, the one who never got sick, who carried me on his back, whos back i lay on and played with the mole on it, who would carry me on his lap and drive up and down the street.
the one who creeped behind me to pinch my ears, the one who called me his 'mummy', his 'star baby'.
the one who made me laughed, who..............

the cryings supposed to have stopped, then why am i crying now?
i didnt get to cry at the burial...there was a bit of tears that rolled down, forced out of my eyesi wanted to be strong for the family, for mom, i wanted to be the one not crying so i comfort them...
i lived in acceptance those few days before we buried just to avoid being in the shock of denial, when really that acceptance was more of an illusion, i still hoped that somehow he'd show up and kiss me and i'd apologise and tell him i loved him again and again and again...
i still seat in his study like i did on those first days, looking out the window to see if he'd be on the balcony reading a book or the papers so i could go seat with him and talk.

its eight years today, i might have forgotten the scent of him, but i still hear the jovial way he called my name...
i see his smile whenever i smile in the mirror.
i see him in my 3 sisters and my brother, cos he lives in us.
i yearn for him when my leg hurts cos he was the one who i loved to massage it, but i feel his touch when i close my eyes real tight and try to imagine it.
i see him when we laugh and share a family joke
i see him in the monopololy games i play
i see him everywhere cos he lives on, his memory comes alive in the daily thoughts and talks we have.
once my brother called me 'mummy', he sounded just like dad when he did, and i shivered in excitement? or maybe desperate hope?, or once when he sneaked up on me from behind to pinch my ears and i turned to see if maybe...that was then, now i smile when anyone does those things, because those little things are the memories that'll keep us going.
the tears wont stop and i dont will them to, cos they are no longer of pain but of sweet memories of what we had as a family.

eight years today...i've gotten over my last scene with him, my heart has stopped lurching in pain at the thought of that last smile he threw at me and how i ignored that effort to reach out to me...
i've gotten over my cruelty and embraced my memories...
i love you daddy, i love you so so much, i miss you too, but then i love you even more than i've missed you.

Monday, February 4, 2008

cartoon networking....

from the dsperate antics of tom, to the hilarious macho man pick up lines of johnny bravo 'hey foxy mama, you wanna smell me? hoha' to the undisputed fact that tweety really did 'taw a puddy tat' cartoon rocks my world. a lesson or two is always learnt, like from Johny, that not all hunky men are that bright, and if i was a boy i'm sure i'd learn never to use those corky lines in picking up ladies, and from tweety when he said 'Wike I said before: Once a bad ol' putty tat, always a bad ol' putty tat', and tom and jerry just teaches to know when to stop.but winnie the pooh, the cute yellow honey licking cuddly bear is a timeless toon.

i certainly am not going crazy, just got back from a long weekend with mom and i got looking at a carton of my old stuff in my room, found a little book i used to write in and saw a couple of quotes i scribled down when this charaters made me laugh and made me think at the same time.
as dim wit and little as this winnies brain seemed, my pooh was wiser in a much larger way.
i was inspired by this episode(cant remember which) when pooh asked owl to write a 'happy birthday' on the present he was giving em...whats his face? tigre?em eeroye?i forget for his birthday. poohs reason for giving this task to owl was in his words 'my spelling is wobbly, its good spelling but it wobbles and the letters all get in the wrong places'.
i'd say spellings ending up in the wrong places is bad spelling, but sweet pooh believed in himself so much and to him his spelling was good.

thats taught me that instead of getting down on myself for not being perfect, i should appreciate what i can do, think winnie the pooh is my new slogan for self(well till if forget i've made it one)
i may not speak french like i want to, not even a quarter of it, but i can say some lovely words(and maybe insults, afterall who cares what i'm saying yeah?)
i may not have the angelina jolie type lips(whats so special 'bout it anyway) but i sure do kiss good. i'm sure my future husband would attest to that:)
i may not know the sweet lyrics to say in prayers and get it right like kimpossible, but i do pray in my own way(which is still good, cos i've got prayers answered)
i may not have the tiniest waist, but i sure know how to work it.
i may not sing like the best of em', say olamild or drop rhymes like the DoG but i sure sing and rap goooooooood in my bathroom
i may not have a perfecto stunning blog
with lots of brain cracking talks and philosophical thoughts like carl,(even pooh says 'its more fun to talk to someone who doesnt use long difficult words but rather short easy words like 'what about lunch'...carl darl dont get me wrong, i love ur blog. so 'what about lunch')
or one with words so beautifully played out like queen of my castle or atutu(afterall pooh says 'you cant help respecting everyone who can spell tuesday, even if he doesnt spell it right, but spelling isnt everything, there are days when spelling Tuesday just doest count')
or be so flirty like unnaked
or be a celebrity blogger like afrobabe and princesa...lol',or load all those nasty pix that just drives people mad like one of the above mentioned stars...
or have all the answers or some of em' to those everyday issues we face like my man JT
or.....or....i could go on
but i sure do write 'tuesday' well, and i love my blog and those people who i see as my jolly good blog family members.

couldnt resist sharing this wonderful johny bravo moment with u guys
(johny looks in the mirror)'whos this handsome guy?'
(grabs a phone)'hello, 911 emergency? theres a handsome guy in my bathroom!...hey, wait a second, cancel that...its only me'...lol
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