Week 1 Ending

Its south of 10 degrees outside, and yes, I'm not used to this weather. All I want to do is curl up under something snugglish, and heat up. But that only works when its 'cold' out, and not freezing. What a to do??? Enter the Onesy!

These aren't just made for the Maggie Simpsons of the world, AND come in biped fittings as well! White people certainly know how to make themselves comfortable. So here I sit, loving my cow print fleece onesy, complete with pink under-hooves. God bless Primark!
I can now officially lie down on the leather sofa without having to wrap myself up in a 15 Tog duvet and tube socks.

I must confess, I have to take back my previous declarations that the Sunshine this side of the world is all demo. Its actually still very warm in the sunlight (where it does shine) but the winds are ever sooo chilly. And boy, is it windy here. So I live on a steady diet of hot fruit infusions, hot chocolate, and cravings for spicy food. Throw in 3hours straight of Fraiser, combined with the toasty indoors et voila, I'm a couch potato in the making. No exercise whatsoever for more than a week and plenty eating. Hmmm... I need to get back into my daily walks. And the gym is sooo out of the way.

*sigh*

Blog-Hairology

Hair blogs seem to be all over the place these days. Or it seems to have come to my attention of recent.
Ok, I've only looked at like 3 (or 2.5. The technology required to get into the first was rather plenty, considering its supposed to be just a journal).

Keep It Simple Sista has gone nuclear. The site even generates revenue from posted ads. Good for her. And her hair too. I have to admit, at first sight, the tailbone-length hair had me drifting off to shades of green. But when I really thought about it, that length will be serious work to wash, dry, comb, style, not-sit-on, etc. I will most def pass on that.

Next was My African HairBlog, by lil' Sewanee. Firstly dear, calling it "African" encourages non-africans to keep on thinking of Africa as a country, not a continent. Secondly, your LGA & genes contributed greatly to your overall hair result, but yes, you did cover the basics. N200 salons are cheaply-wrapped death traps that will kill your hair. Even the more expensive ones will not rinse out relaxer completely, will be too eager to rinse out the conditioner after 5 secs so they can get over and done with you, comb your hair with a large combination of passive viciousness & a lack of interest, have no idea how to actually flat iron hair and make it turn out nice, much less have any idea of anti-heat treatments, the point of trimming, the difference between a trim and a cut, and such.

Had a look at Hairlicious as well. She's been around for a bit too and I picked up quite a bit from her - from what to look out for in hair products, to hair handling tips, to what not to do. Visions of fantastically healthy hair motivated to go out and buy, buy, buy! Fortunately, financial restrictions soon brought me down to earth, but I'm started on my wish list already. I must say though, I draw the line at washing my hair 3 times a week. I can understand that all that product build-up will gunkify your hair, but really, that's like some 2-3hour regimen thrice weekly. I'll start small.

So now I'm keeping heat treatment (via tongs, straightners and driers) to the barest possible minimum. What did strike me the most was moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. And that makes sense cos your hair is less likely to break if its elastic and moist, and less likely to get out of control if you keep it under wraps to some extent.

I remember from M&Bs I used to read way back that the guys always loved the smell of the girls' shampoo on their hair, and I used to think this was utter bollocks. By the time your conditioner goes in, it masks out the smell of the shampoo, and by the time your hair products go in, they cover up the smell of the conditioner, so what on earth were they on about? In the past couple of weeks tho, I've learnt that the average caucasian (and naturally straight, long-haired female) does not actually use a conditioner (and so there's no fragrance-masking), and that it's people with chemically-treated hair who actually NEED to condition: that goes for relaxed, blown-out, dyed or hot-combed hair. Why do I go on about this? I'm in love with Aussie 'Moist'. It has this ... lovely coconuty smell that actually sticks after washing (when I'm not deep conditioning, but using only leave-ins). I like it so much, I've been after Xandra to start using my products as well.

I'm aspiring to FULL, Shoulder Blade-length hair. Lets see how it goes.

Joshua Wants to Read My Blog

I don't think I've ever felt so "compelled" to write, even as I draw up blank, staring at my monitor for what is going on 40 mins now. (Ok, I've been much distracted by what I actually ought to be doing, which is work. & making snack runs for heavily preggers Mrs. Boss).

Did anyone (not) watch the Nigeria-Greece match yesterday?? Was I truly the only one who thought the perfect round-up to a good laugh would be ice-cream??? If there is one thing we do not lack in this country, its our ability to hope even under the most adverse of conditions (the disappointed faces here after the match could have been carved in granite). And that's not a bad thing. In fact, I think the only thing we have which can compete with the collective Nigerian Hope is our ability to continually swallow the the utter bollocks dished out by our leaders, with no regard whatsoever that they're pissing on us in broad daylight sans the decency of lying to us that its rain.

Did I mention I'm officially in like again?
**cue eyeroll**
Yes, I know, I know.

I really don't know how to build up to this so I'll just say it.

I have a boyfriend.

I rather like saying that. Or thinking it. It's especially funny that no one believes it when I first say it. In fact, I think I'll write it again.

I have a boyfriend.

I'll try not to wear this one out.

Initial reactions so far are varied: Crimson fair screamed her head off, Fifi had goggled eyes (which isn't quite abnormal), and O'Weezay jumped up a jig while repeating "Thank you, Jesus". I'd have shared her euphoria if she didn't have her arm around my neck in a gridlock.... But honestly, you guys have been heckling me on getting a man-friend for ages - why is it so surprising that I did? (Because I went and did it all on my own...?)

Fine, I'll admit it wasn't all on my own. Actually it was mostly on his own. There was barely any initiative on my part, and I was very comfortable being old-fashioned and letting the boy do the work. I didn't suffer him or anything. Just invited him to sit through a Bollywood movie with me. In the theatre. For that alone, I knew he was at least interested in me somewhat. Or he's a closet Indie-film watcher. Besides, it's not really work is it, if you're enjoying yourself... is it?

So he makes me smile/laugh (+50), he's Christian, dwarfs me even in heels, and seems clear on what he wants with me. Just when I was beginning to think that my short list of wants was unrealistic, it turns out I'm not defective goods incapable of liking a guy. I think I was beginning to wonder about that.

Too bad his leave ended and he had to get back to Lagos (yes, the proverbial K-leg). Who'd have thought that after all my hot air on the long distance thing, I'd jump smack into it. But hey, Lagos is just down there, as opposed to UK and Nigeria. Hmm....

So in recap,

i) My e-pal asked me out, and now I'm his girlfriend. :">

ii) I dare say I rather like this one.

iii) He kissed me. Now kissing and telling, quite frankly, is gross, but this brova can snog for Nigeria.

*sigh*

***I'm strongly contemplating putting up a placard at my desk which reads "Do Not Flirt With Front Desk. We Are Not Here To Help You Pass Time. Read A Mag or Window Shop. Thank You***

Gads. I could do with a nap just about now. Alas, I've 4 more hours to go till closing. Joy. A silver lining could be more time on my hands to scheme on sneaky ways to snooze....

1

My soul will praise the King of Heaven,

I will lay my tribute at His feet,

For He has ransomed, healed, restored and forgiven me,

Who shall sing his praises but me?

Praise the everlasting King!

Like a father, He takes care of us,

He knows too well our human frailties,

He holds us gently in His arms,

And shelters us from all hurts,

Praise Him, for widely do His mercies flow.

Shylock Knew Why He Was The Way He Was

At this point in my life, I reckon that the most uncomfortable situation I've found myself in is owing people for extended periods of time. What could be more embarrassing than having to avoid someone repeatedly, or continually give what can only be perceived as excuse after excuse, for why you have not paid up by the time you promised you would? Which is why I would rather have next to no money for myself and pay off any outstandings - even if its a tiny bit at a time.

As life would have it, no man is an island. Therefore, people will ALWAYS be there to throw a wrench in your works and ruin your plans. Put you in awkard situations and make you seem a dodgy and dishonest person. The way I see it, this will go beyond the present, and affect your credit records, because the next time some situation comes up, no one will be willing to part with anything on your behalf. As embarrassing as having to owe a person for ages, is the vexation, annoyance and extreme inconvenience of having someone/people owe you money for extended periods of time with no seeming plans of paying you back.

The result of this equation? An strong disinclination to assist anyone monetarily beyond what you are comfortable with letting go altogether. But what is one to do in a situation where what you can let go is not actually going to do anything for their cause? Doing that is just to ease your conscience, and really, all you're doing is getting the person off your back.

My possible solution? Involve God from the get-go and pray that it all works out evenly in the end. Hoping of course that the end is sooner rather than later.
And thus, I find myself waiting outside someone's house, going on an hour-and-a-half, waiting to return money.

God is great.

Things I Would Like To Acheive By 1st June This Year

1) Attain Marked Progress On My Path to Maturity - spiritually, mentally, emotionally.
Read a blog today that made me think. If I were to present myself before God to give account of my time spent, what will I have to show for it? Hours spent crushing endlessly, dwellling infinitely on the opposite sex, be it on bfs of friends, my friends, or "possibilites". When did I let my life get focused down on this? I am here to serve Him, to help all I meet on their Way to Him. That includes not being an obstacle in anyone's way, or a temptation in any form (encouraging deceit even minute forms, dressing or dancing in manners which encourage the oh-so-visually-stimulated to engage in cerebral flights of wander).

2) Finish That Darn French Audio & Move On To Some Other Language.
Seriously. This is going into 3rd Year. Getting a shuffle instead of a player with a screen, just so I listen to the lessons as opposed to having easy access to music has long lost its motivation. I MUST overcome.
Plus I've made sacrifices for this. Both the Shuffle & other monetaries.

3) Make a Permanent Move To Less-2"
It's all boils down to commitment and how bad I do want that waistline. Heck, anorexics can do this. Gymnasts and a large number of Athletes do this. At last check, we all have only one head each. {Yes, I know one or 5 million readers of this may have more than had it with my incessant (seeming) obsession with a smaller waistline, but really, if I can't go broken-record on my own blog, where else can I whinge??? Move on to another friggin' page.}

4) Be an absolute stranger to all-out lying, fibbing, excuse-making, procrastination, laziness, forgetfulness, and be an all-round more dependable person.

5) Be Time-Conscious.
Not just more time-conscious, but practically the watchword. I won't always have a lenient boss who is willing to overlook a tonne. Or be able to find some resolution to slip-ups. Someday, the shite will hit the fan, and backdrop will be a stinker. Yes, I shall create a eutopia where time as we know it can be set by the Nigerian Clock.

The Better of Which Ways?

Subsequent to two trips to Lagos, I have been informed that I will not be moving forward to the next stage of the Sahara interviews. (Once more to mama's surprise), I was not upset. If nothing else, I've logged more hours of interview experience. But I can't help feel I'd rather not have to receive more rejection letters - be it school- or employment- related.
Of late, I find myself increasingly contemplating the idea of setting up my own business. So I enjoy baking (especially when things turn out the way they're supposed to). Why not start up something along that line (asks FT Lily)?


Arguments In Favour of This:
1) There's no harm in trying.
2) It is something I will enjoy doing, so making a living of it will be a definite plus.
3) Flexible hours! (1st Translation: I can sleep late, both at night and in the mornings. Yay!)
4) I don't (technically) have to be rejected ever again. At least job wise.

This could very well be the answer to my prayers. Amen!

Someone just called in to ask what times my office experiences more traffic - mornings/afternoons/weekdays/weekends. I'm having visions of her fishing for information to decide what time is best to set off a bomb. Too much television.

My account has just been debited 150% over for a payment. What the heck???

Weekend Before Test

My friend went to SA and all he got me was a white Tee (instead of my requested Mace spray). Bugger. Ok, it was one of the (now internationally famous, at least in the African Axes) Ama Kip Kip Tees, but it reminds me of Iggy's bridal shower bridesmaid one, cos its plain white and the lettering down the front is in glittery fuschia (is that spelt right???).

So there I was today at work earlier, going through pictures of SA put up by Ze Hustla (since my said friend is reiterating his characteristic photo-huggingness), and we (me and other office gyals) keep seeing the recurrent fyne bros, who we finally identify. After myself and two others rapidly fall in 5-sec crush with him, we (btw ourselves, and a Dr) identify him as a frequenter of the Plaza, his workplace, his marital status (and about to change paternal standing), among others. X-ed that and moved on. But he's sha fine sha. Or rather photogenic. After I closed, was driving out when I noticed a black Ama Kip Kip Tee afar.

"Ha! A kindred wearer!" thought I. On closer inspection, it turns out to be Mr. Fyne (Married&Soon-To-Be-Father) Bros, who apparently is not as fine in person. I might have appreciated the beauty more if I'd met him first before seeing the pictures. Any dregs of crush are rapidly stamped into ash-dust at this point.

But was there really a crush in his direction??? You see, I think I just might be setting myself up to fall in crush with a friend. I think. I'm not sure. And this is the very reason I'm unsure, because if I'm going to crush, I just do so without abandon, and not wonder or unwonder about it. His company is easy, and I'm even willing to date up until (should incase) I leave for school this september. But does he look at me that way? In a not fun-for-the-passing-moments appreciation, but I-really-do-like-her-on-the-whole?

I do think I might be strongly over-nalysing this.

On a more serious note, I've got a Sahara Job Test thing come monday. Wish me luck y'all!

Also allegedly have admission to Salford & Portsmouth! The Lord is good.

Matching Ankle Band

Hop, Skip, Jump, Impact awkwardly, twist ankle.

It turns out that a twisted ankle is something of a greater inconvenience than a twisted (or recovering-from-assault) wrist. Initially, I just stretched it out and kept jogging, but I think with time, the stiffness is beginning to set in. I can only hope this won't impede my jogging (you think???).

Went running this morning for the first time since my hijack. I guess subconcisously I was avoiding walking past the scene of the crime, but then I must move on ba? Plus, since mother dearest is still not aware of the incident, she was only more than happy to get me out of bed, and back into form before I creep off into another exercise lapse. Getting up at Oh-Five-Thirty is a pain, but I gotta say, I love running.

Looking @ My Banded Orange Wrist

I'm ... not sad. But very perceptibly not as upbeat as I could be.

Exactly 14.5 hours back, my right wrist was viciously attacked, and my koklet forcibly taken off my person. I honestly don't know if God has helped me not be attached to the material (I would much like to believe so), or its because I religiously backed up the music and pictures, but I'm more upset that I got robbed than I am at losing the phone itself. The greater inconvenience is losing my contacts, and having to repeat over and over to callers that I've lost all of them.


The last thing I want to be put through right now is anyone giving me a lecture on how foolish I was to openly display my "valuable" as I was walking along a road at night (who says this town isn't on the same risk level as Las Gidi???), or that I chose to go for a walk period. Which is why I'm scrambling to replace the phone before the parents pick up on the loss. Amazing. I'm hassling myself to get a phone not for my use, but for my uninterrupted peace of mind. Oh well.
Priorities, and all that.

I reckoned I just might feel better if I could share this experience with someone, with whom I could laugh over this, (who obviously would not give me any due criticism). It didn't help any that again, my contacts are mine no more. So here I stand (or sit), sharing.


So there goes an unbudgeted 30G. There goes my hollywood wax this month. Welcome, extremely frugal spending, and cutting as many expenditures as possible, and no splurging. After all, I must still pay off some debts and contribute to housekeeping. Perhaps I'll lose an inch off my waist by month end? (One must look to any possible silver linings, no?)

Blind date (To go or not to to go)

I just got asked out to lunch by a patient. I honestly can't remember what he looks like, because I wasn't paying attention (he asked over the phone). As per habit, I informed him that I do not donate my mobile number to the masses, at which point he persisted in asking me out to break bread with him tomorrow, and he will be calling on my office number to get a hold of me. I am having serious misgivings about this primarily because I'm yet to meet with good fortune with regards to patients and dates. Secondly, I don't know what he looks like (and since this is not a marriage by proxy, it's something of a pothole).

Anyhoos, lunch has to be shortened by either work (depending on what shift I'll be working) or prior engagements (which I'm sure I can cook up), so I reckon I can wing it. Should incase I do go. what I do recollect was the black suede jacket he was wearing. Hmmm.

My MultiColoured Dreamer

Last night, I dreamt I was attending a wedding reception (of an unidentified friend). The whole crew was there - FTLily,Dufy, nka nka. The weird bit was the party was up the road from another wedding reception, at which I knew (facially) one or two of the groom's men (not anyone I think I actually do know). What precisely does it mean when you start dreaming of attending weddings (which I already have been doing anyhoos)? Or is this just another one of my Dreamywood Pictures....

Sha sha, there was this one guy who caught mi ojos (the one whose face I couldn't place), and he too looked like my face rang a bell, but of course, I turned away and walked off to try and locate the Father. Should incase such a situation comes to pass, what should be my response?

a) Smile, not make myself apparently hanging-around, but keep to the general vicinity and hope he makes a move

b) Take the initiative and just go over and say hello (for pete's sake!)

c) Move on, and hold my breath for a 3rd meeting at which point I use the first two sightings as a reference point for conversation-starting.

Do guys really categorize you in some form of negative if you come over and say hello first? Does it truly contribute to their thinking they are hot sturves, and you an adoring fan?? (Which I would be actually, since I most likely would not make a move on a YOU-Gly guy. Superficiality!). I think I shall open myself up to new possibilites. Afterall, i've been severally adviced to broaden my field to include new opportunities, and stop stagnating on the same old same olds. We'll see how that works out.

I finally acknowledge out loud that I have an inclination to lighter-skinned guys, though not an out and out preference. That's not a bad thing is it? It is just a physical appearance afterall, and doesn't stop any one of them from being any less a schmuck than the darkies. I reckon this dream may just have been influenced by a somebori who caught my eye at White House last night. Yes, a lightie he was.

But dark guys can be fyne too sha oh.

Lord, if anything, this blog illustrates my decline into further non-grownsomeness.

Oi!