who am i?

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

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

you call this a holiday?....at least i learnt stuff!

i learnt loads of stuff these three day(five day) holiday.....
i learnt that....

not all holidays are fun. fact that there's a break doesn't mean it'd be 'oh so sweet' urggggh.
didnt go nowhere on friday night, had the flu, saturday morning breakfast at cactus with friends turned out to be disastrous as we were all high on temper, some road work was going on within lekki phase one and there was some mad crazy traffic, by the time we drove back into the estate it was already time for lunch, picked on our food at avalon house.
monday wasnt that great either, tuesday was a little light and wenesday? had a meeting, when i was supposed to be chilling.

i learnt that facebook is really fun. i had absolutely nothing to do, but i was glued to facebook all saturday evening and a bit of sunday, laughing and commenting on peoples pictures, throwing maccain at people, and getting amused with peoples status update 'i'm in lag with wife, to see sister k and husband,just back from dubai with wife after 10 days' helllllllooooo, LMAO! i know status messages always have a hint of 'boast' in it. but this just got to be on top....someone trying so hard to tell stuff.

i learnt that reading two absolutely brain scorching books at the same time is a possibility, well make that three, i'm reading roots, the kunta kinte story, lolita about the sicko oldie and the hans anderson translated stories(fairytales or whatever). its fun just switching between them. roots got me thinking about how hard it must have been for those slaves, and hating the whites, same time i've learnt from it that i definitely dont think paying bad with bad rocks.
i was totally against the whites and what they pulled off with the slaves, but when i read of how some slaves actually poisoned the babies of their 'massas' i found myself almost screeching at how mean that was.)

i learnt that my lips are so soft...gwad, i's jus wanna kiss it, whoever is the massa of thos lips gonna hav a might good time.(since reading roots, i jes love speak the 'nigger' english)

i learnt its mighty easy to manipulate a man to do anything for you. all you have to do is pout or sigh dramatically and he'll trip over himself trying to figure out whats wrong...and after he drops you home,he'll keep calling, and all you have to do is answer with a sad sigh and say 'i cant talk right now'
you'll get flowers for no reason whatsoever....classic.

i learnt that when you meet a guy you absolutely fall in crush with in your favorite dress(first time you wear it)and you don't see him for another dozen of moons,and in that time you avoid wearing this really flattering dress just in case he sights you somewhere in it(and goes second time i'm meeting her and shes in same outfit).
well the day you decide to wear it, thinking 'hell with him, hes never going to be at so so bar at this time'...well he certainly will be..
its so annoying, all those hangouts i avoided wearing this purple jersey dress to and never seeing him there.
today i go for a house party thingy and then to this bar to watch the man utd match and smack bang there he is walking around like he owned the place, which apparently he does as i learnt....crap!

and i learnt that my lips are so so soft...uhmmm. oh sorry i mentioned that already. i'm just nibbling on them and thinking i should charge for a taste of this.

also learnt that that i have to stop lusting over wayne rooney. i've followed that guys leg since forever and lusted after him, maybe solely cos he plays for the best team in the world...
i realised that my cousin seems to look like him body and face wise(not like hes got a body and face to die for)and the dudes a football junky too. we've had scouts from reading coming to sniff him up.thus i have to stop the lusting after rooney, cos it feels like incest.like its my cousin i'm lusting after. who knows what i'll be thinking when my cousin swaggers past me juggling a football.

and, the longest holidays are usually the most boring...said that before yeah? well i say it again. boring.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

four eyed god....

in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king, the two eyed man's a king of the king and the four eyed man? well he is the god....
i get my prescription glasses on Monday.
i cant say i'm excited about it. my friend says i'll look like a total nerd.
i've tried to convince her otherwise and in the process convince myself that its not so bad....shes satisfied with taunting me....whatever, shes a mere two eyed specie. i'm four eyed, now how special can that be?

such an irony.
when i was a little girl,i would wear moms kaftans and her high heeled shoes, an assortment of jewelry and handbag, and the final look of adulthood, her glasses. and i would walk out of her room tripping over myself in the blurriness of her glasses and the over sized gear to play pretend in my room or wherever i could be alone, acting like i was in my own office, signing 'documents'(blank papers) like i watched mom do, and telling accountants and other officers off. that's what i get for spending every free moment i had in moms office.(can that qualify as child abuse? her not discouraging me to go play with my mates rather than hang out with her at work...lol) i digress.

if only i knew then what i know now, that i don't want to have to use prescribed glasses, let alone own one. i was given an option of contact lenses. i love my brown eyes alot, and as appealing as the idea of playing around with colors seem, i'm not up for stuffing my fingers in my eye.

i chose the next best thing to unnerdy i could find. a white framed Chanel. thus on monday i become an official four eyed fella....a god in the land of the blind.
thats special right?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

say cheeeeeeese:-)

i'm not a pro in photography, but i love to click.
this shot sort of translates my life.
i did the colour patch to create that effect of a new and brighter me emerging to drown the gloomy, dark, boring drabness of the old me.
and the trucks my moving truck, moving out a bit of my dark and scary baggage...lol

got a new camera some weeks back. i'll put the behind camera post up soon enough.
been so busy learning all i can about life love and life and love and life plus a bit of work and the essence of hate and forgiveness(dont ask for tips, i'm still clueless). haven't had the time to blog hop and drop comments.
and then to add to my problems, theres the ever frustrating new facebook thats so so urgggggggh
and coppershunism(nysc) is such crap. i've worn my uniform three times in total. its kinda sexy...makes you feel like a woman in uniform, how i wanted to hold a riffle the first time i wore the khakis...lol! those boots are so uncomfortable. had a new set of khakis sewn so i dont get to wear the pathetic unfit set we're given. had to take pictures in them as proof to all those haters claiming i didnt serve my fatherland.

i so cant wait for the three day holiday coming immediately after the weekend, meaning five days free. monday and tuesday is ramadan holiday, wenesday is independence. yes we have too many holidays in nigeria but who's complaining, personnally i think we dont have enough holidays.
all day today i kept humming the song we sang in primary school 'holiday is coming, holiday is coming, no more morning bells(alarm clocks)............'

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

he's black hes white,,,it dont matter if hes black or white!

michael is one hell of a sweetheart. No i wasnt the one who had the heart wrenching crush on him, cut his pictures out and placed in a shrine like photo album of him, or dream of getting married to him...na, i wasnt that crazy over micheal like the sister most household seems to have. i was/am in love with him alright, but i never saw myself kissing him or having his babies, okay fine, maybe, the '10 yr old i want u back video kept me drifting, he was little in it and i was tiny then, so go figure, the romantic liason would have been him coming over to play doll house with me...these days i look back at the thriller videos and i'm taken back to those beautiful days of waiting to watch tv just so we could slot in a michael video tape and watch him dance, and i cant help but trip all over again for the person he was.

after his cover page appearance on ebony sometime last year, i fell head over heels in non lustful love with him again. i forgot about how messed up his life seem to be with the face and all the scandal, i just drifted off to his 'oh baby give me one more chance' and how cute he was then, his smile, his energy on stage, i watched over and over again clips of him performing and was amazed at the impact he had on those people, jumping and screaming and crying and fainting and just so in total awe, i wondered how anyone would cry just for a persons performance...well i dont really wonder cos i also get so spirit lifted when i watch him on stage too, theres just something gripping about michael.
so what if he's a lil messed up
so what if hes white now? it dont matter if his black or white
so what if his bad? a smooth criminal?
sometimes when i judge him for all those accusations that he possible didnt do, i cant help but wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror? a guilty person whos lost so much in life? or just a normal person?does he look in the mirror at all?
are we, the fans part of the hammer thats broken him?(not like he didnt get himself broken before we arrived the scene)

on one of kat williams stand up comedy shows, he said stuff of not been deceived by micheal. hes black, how come his kids are all white? got me thinking too...are his genes supposed to change when he has a 'skin problem'? but who am i to judge, if a 'black guy' has white babies, what do we know?
but seriously he seems gay, doesnt he? not like...well maybe i'm judging, maybe i'm been stereotypically but he talks, walks , smiles and dresses gay, what am i not to think of. theres this prank call i saw on youtube, you just have to listen to it.

my ipods been on repeat all weekend, my micheal playlist of every song hes possibly ever done/released from childhood to date keeps playing, a dozen of them sound unfamiliar, but i just grasp his voice and let it do what it does to me..lol

i love michael and i'm not ashamed to say it.( i wonder why i still got to love him, he didnt even send me a card for my birthday) since we're confessing i might as well confess that i still dance to spice girls very first songs...spice up your life and oh, yes i've got a mickey mouse disney world all stars(ie donald duck , tazan et co)stored on my pod and er..(okay i'll keep this one to myself...damn thats some hot shit, i aint spilling.

i had to post this video here, most of you would have seen it, some jail somehwere having a ball with micheal. good to know people locked up have something to live for.lol

Thursday, September 11, 2008

7 years ago....2 memorials and a celebration.

its that day again...trying to figure out what it is i was doing on this day seven years ago..its kind of blurry and all, i remember not knowing anything significant had happened in the world across the Atlantic, i was out all day with my friends and all we watched on tv was the booty shaking music videos on MTV and Channel O...and as i got home, late for lunch as usual, there was this solemn look on moms face as she told me what happened, there was a terrorist attack in the US, the twin towers had been attacked and a couple of jetliners were hijacked...CNN was on and the image kept replaying as reporters filled us in...i was devastated, i was scared...well, those are understatements, i kept shaking inside me with fear, fear that my family across the states were hurt(thankGod they were safe), fear that this was going to mark a beginning of new sets of uncertainties....i kept thinking 'terrorist attack in the U.S of A?, if that can happen there, the safest place in my small opinion on earth(then), then who in any country is safe?...

not we here in Nigeria without all of the fancy and intimidating names of FBI and CIA and co...but then, after the heart break and the crying, we've lived on, we've reminisced, we've wondered how it went wrong, we've been scared out of our skin with little uncertainties and misjudgments and unfair harassment of young arabs carrying rucksacks..
then there was the war which kept me up all night, because i kept wondering about those young beautiful and brave people away from their families,fighting and living in a world of 'maybe', not knowing if they're going to survive the whole process....but all in all we've survived it all, and somehow the world and the families have moved on,even though the twin towers crashed in the united states, it crashed all over the world, because the whole world was affected one way or the other....friends of friends families were affected.

seven years later, we think back and wonder where we are, where we are headed, but sort of soothed out...its terrible, but i'm thankful we've moved on, we've healed and we can talk about that day without crying as much. we can talk about newyork and all its shopping bliss without a sad sigh. somehow, THE SUN HAS COME UP AGAIN....and through the whole cloudy, smoky, choky and dark days of the years past, we've been let in the sunlight, a brighter day...God bless America....God bless the world.
and God bless Rita and her family who lost her dad 15 years ago today.
i read her post today and theres so much to be learned from her and all shes been through

P.S.... on a lighter note, carlang's been busy while away from blogsville. there i was reading an article in the latest edition of genevive magazine, i thought the style looked familiar, and then i finish reading and who's name do i see....carlang.
twas a really good write up, then, its carl, so what do you expect? 'the trick to writing is to write'
that was an inspiring piece, although his statement of 'i was born in the magical times' made me see my dad saying 'in my time, back in the day' lol
i've staked my claim 'i know him' why, just a few weeks ago he asked me to be his best friend, i didnt even beg him.lol
heres a toast to you man.
i'm exicited for you. who knows, you might be to genevive what segun johnson is to true love.

Monday, September 1, 2008

finding my culture...finding myself!

i know we've all seen this video one too many times. but i had to put it up here.
i'm embarrassed that shes trying so desperately to hold on to her culture, while we are desperate to let go of this culture that is a definition of who we are, what we're about.

slowly we're been drawn away from our mother tongue/culture by the borrowed culture of the west, it don't matter that we dwell in our motherland...we still stretch out as far as we can to grasp that culture, the language,, the food, the dressing, the songs, the attitude....thus becoming Different people with different beliefs and values(as held by our fathers), different yearnings and hopes and dreams(dont get me wrong, sometimes this is a good thing)

but seriously, what do we teach our children? would our culture be extinct in their generation? would they suffer what i suffered as a child, not being able to communicate with my grandma, seating and staring at her, wanting to say so much, but limited by the barricade built by my lost culture, the inability to speak my mother tongue.

i enjoy her tastefully cooked meals, but how do i get the recipes from her, those details that make it different from the rest? how do i tell her how her food gives me this euphoria even chocolates have failed to achieve? when i can only so much as speak brokenly to her in words as simple as 'come, go, me, you, goodnight, thankyou, good morning' i understand her to an extent...brokenly too as i pick out words 'how are you, food, come, go, no, thankyou'

what are the stories dwelling in her? waiting to be passed into my ready ears, stories of life lessons that'd save me from situations where i'm left wondering? lessons that a mother cant break down properly, only a grandmother can tell it right? stories of her mother my great-grandma and how she raised her to become a strong beautiful woman that she is....
all these stumbles when we've never been permanently removed from her grasp by the big iron bird....as it always brings us back to her whenever and wherever it takes us to, or have we been removed from her grasp by the foreign tongue we tsk at her? is she just satisfied to have our hugs, at least its a mutual language of 'i love you'
how frustrated does she feel when she speaks and her great-grand kids just hug her, give her a peak and run off to play, having no idea that she's asking them how they're doing?

yes, my kids would have it good, because my mother would sing them lullabies, she'll whisper stories in their ears as their eyes fall asleep...all in the foreign mans tongue(that's if they havent adopted french or chinese as the new IT language of their time, and thus be at a loss with their granma like i was)
would our children ever experience the moonlight stories narrated in the folk tongue and all those folk songs(well,maybe most of us didn't, but then that's just how much we've missed)

with inter-tribal marriages reigning. me being a product of one of such mix, you'd imagine that the richness of culture i posses would be so refined i'd be a posh multi lingual cultured girl. how shameful that the opposite is the case for me and loads of others like me. i'm not disputing the western culture..no, its wonderful, its given us bacon, and chocolates,and burgers and cashmere and those beautiful gadgets and jimmy choos and Louis vuitton and vogue and french kiss and.........but like Magaret mead the American anthropologist pointed ...
As the traveler who has once been from home is wiser than he who has never left his own doorstep, so a knowledge of one other culture should sharpen our ability to scrutinize more steadily, to appreciate lovingly, our own
so true, we should experience other cultures, but be careful not to loose ourselves in its deepness, stay shallow enough so we can easily drift back to the culture that defines our beings.

bassey ikpi despict's a lost child craving for the culture of her fatherland. hopefully someday soon enough, we'd realize how special our culture is, and run back to hug it close....

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