Christmas Break In a Nutshell

It was the day before christmas, and all was quiet. Nary a creature stirred on the streets - unless of course you count those massive local rodents claiming "rat" which I've never seen alive; usually, they're stretched out on a stick, sun-dried, and sold as bush meat. They also tend to be bigger, and have no mental association whatsoever with sewage, filth, or epidemics, among other things.

Where was I? Yes, the streets empty of people. That could have been a function of several factors:
1) it being a public holiday on a long weekend so a good number of people had had a late night,
2) the merciless sun beating down its heat, which is in turn trapped by the layer of harmattan that's currently reigning supreme, or perhaps
3) the on-going fuel crisis which was recently further aggravated by the alleged oil-tanker-drivers'-restrike.
Only God can save us from ourselves. Heaven only knows why we don't let the local refineries function (Greed, maybe?). I understand it could be much worse, but really, it's so terrible the way things are currently. The Lord is our strength.
Spent the early afternoon putting up the final bits of xmas decor yet to go up (the timing was progressive. Two years back, we put the tree up on boxing day), the latter part was spent shopping for foodstuff to entertain the masses who would opt to refuse staying home and impose their society on me instead. Was rather beat by the end of that day.

Christmas Mass was fun! The choir was absent (as ususal) cos they were up for the Midnight mass, and the One-Lady Choir was notably not present either. I actually thought it was going to be a drag music-wise, but one of the alter boy-men persons handled the hymns and it was rather lively (he kept the tempo up. Amen for that!). Even the Mother was much impressed. Then there was cookfest. I can proudly say that I can now make Chinese fried rice. Woo hoo! And may I add that fried rice is actually nicer than Jambalaya. Or perhaps that one just tasted really nice. Of course I wasn't eating properly over the holiday - a consistent diet of next to no food, combined with tonnes of toffees, chocolate, ice-cream and cake. For shame, for shame. Tut tut tut.
*Possibly +1"?*

Myself & I then proceeded to unrepentantly sleep through the daylight hours of 26th & 27th. Even for me, that was new heights. And I still had no problem sleeping through the nights. My body's just so willingly acclimatized to extended sleep hours cos I woke up at 8:15am today and proceeded to be somewhat late for work. Its amazing how I was just lying there for so long subconciously waiting for Mumzy to come wake me up (who, by the way, is out of town). Meanwhile, it was so bright outside. I sha no try. But the sleep was sweet.
:D

I so did not want to resume work. Yet here we are. And Big Boss is trying to pull a wotsit on me, saying I should decide whether or not we should open this saturday. I must now diplomatically put my will (which is in line with everyone else's here. HELLO! No WORK!) such that the paper trail does not clearly lead back to me all by myself. I shall put the suggestion to all staff concerned, and decision will be made by joint consensus, at which point I shall report the minutes of the meeting to the Boss Man.

I crack myself up.

OPERATION: Less4"

Does the body proportion thing actually dictate that the neck measurement should be half your waist? Cos if it does, I've quite a bit of hanger-ons with long-time residency status'. Yet how exactly do I go about losing 4 inches from my midsection without turing unhealthy-waferlike (and I mean just that, not waife)???

After all this time, girl is still caught-up on her weight. Shall I ever outgrow this train of thinking? Xandra and co. all opine that I rather overdo it, but then, all I have to do is look at my family to know that I should not let myself get complacent with regards to my weight. And I know only how easy it is to pile on the pounds.

Ok. On to more "generally acceptable" things. I just may be going to SA for (part of) the World Cup. H*U*R*R*A*H!!!!! That is, if I have not started school yet (in Malay or Australia! God-willing!!!!). Life looking up some more? Amen to that.

Need I go into details of this year's Wedding Season? I've known at least one broom-jumper every week this month, sometimes two. And I'm seeing one or two possibilities for next year already. Eyah. More bliss to their elbows. As for myself, I wouldn't mind a sumbori, but it's something I can live without for now. Hopefully, one of the siblings will get hitched, and scratch the Parents' itch for evidence of "forward movement in that direction".

Tribal Marks

Fine Art (and Secondary School, as a whole) seems a lifetime away. And it is. Several actually, going by my "nephew and niece count" in between. I remember back in my SS1 taking a class on Ife Art, and that's when I found out scarification was used as a kind of tribal identikit. Kind of like H-factor for (some) Yorubas and pomposity for (a good number of) Ibos. Of course all this is going somewhere. I took out my weave sunday night and, in a bid to keep my naturality under wraps and still fulfil my employment obligations come monday, I did my head up in a "malo wrap". Coincidentally, the Saharan dust blew into town sunday night, so the whole wrap thing kept me and my hair tres happy. Tuesday saw an encore (yes, I was really feeling myself, and Mama lurves the new look) with favorable reviews, so I settled into it and started arranging my wardrobe around pashmina-colours available to me. Today I've been chatted up by an Aliyu, vocally appreciated by a Muhktar + one other, and generally eyed-up by some babariga-wearing clientelle (not to mention one dodgy Ibo man who started up pleading his case by trying to "help" me out with a proper job in my field. *eye-roooolllll* I'll save that one for a later day).

So my question is,
1) if I'm being chatted up on the basis of my appearance, why is my name not a deterrant? Considering I rapidly reveal myself to be not northern/muslim. Or does it just fall under Try-Your-Luck at that point?

2) Surely, I picked up one skill from Mx (if not a language) - a not so shabby wrap, eh?

...Hold my heart don't break it, It is yours....

My latest preoccupation? Farmville on facebook. I don't even know how it happened. Ok, yes I do. TwinB has been farming for a bit, and I used to tease her ever so much on how she'd panic about harvest times, and withered crop and such. Then I thought, 'what the heck, why not?', and now we check up on each others farms, chase off racoons, crows and foxes, and let each other know when our profit will not be so profitable. Take now for instance. I left my house (where no light was an additional motivation) at almost half 8, to swing by the office where I am now waiting on my harvest lest they perish, (and my money with it). I think it was more of trying for some damage control, and who do I run into here.? TwinB! Ha!! Admittedly, it's all kinds of silly, but it is still silly fun.

Talking about FB, its amazing how serious people take status updates - both the declarants, and the commenters. Back in school, to pass time, I'd sing along to songs in my head, and sometimes write out the lyrics. In this technologically updated era, why not apply that where possible? So I do sometimes update my status to the lyrics of what I'm currently listening to. Turns out there are repercussion, albeit amusing ones - from the past interest who feels inspired to console you some, to thec friends eager to know if time don land (which they will do with or without FB, yes), to aspirants who choose to interprete the world "positively, as applies to them". Seriously people. Like today, I bumped into my J. Holiday 'It is yours', and took a stroll down memory lane to a time when I had a crush on him (pre-enlightenment, of course. And maturity). Being the generous soul that I are, I decided to share my joy with the world at large, and updated a line onto my status bar. Good heavens. That's all I can say.

Oddly enough, the office is yet to close, thanks to tardy patients who just don't show up when they ought to. Or perhaps it's due to over generous doctors who take the staff's generosity and silence for granted as well. Whatever happened to all the "be considerate of all staff" that was gone on about during the last staff meeting??? Quite a number of disgruntled staff over here right now.

Vocabulaire Extrodinaire?

STRONG TIN. The Banky W. song. I must say, I do rather like the song. Its smooth, makes sense, the video is great all in all. But he should X-nay on the dancing. On the slang itself, its out there, but all over the place like LONG TIN. I myself use this one well. Especially of late with regards to the GRE I just wrote (which was the main reason for my protracted absence) and school applications on the whole. Education na long tin oh. Almost feels like it never ends. I remember some months back, when the long break commenced and school kids where all over town, I would wistfully long for a school-like timetable when I could have extended time-offs. Can't that be incorporated into work schedules?!? Kind of like rotation jobs. Then I began tutorials for the GRE and during my first class, all I could think off was "I paid to have this done to me???". You win some, you lose some, I suppose.

But I digress. Slangs.

The one making rounds now, which just absolutely irks my spirit is SWAGA. What. Tha. Heck? Firstly, how many people actually know what swagger is? Even a dictionary definition, or how it can/should be applied?? It reminds me of the last Maltina Street Dance Competition. There was this one all-girls group that made it past one of the first regional stages. In their interview, they were all about their style and swagger. Ha! My bro and his friends (as though by divine inspiration) recorded that particular showing (for retrospectal comedy purposes), and man did they use it for kicks. I shall not even go into the details of how they were so booted off in the next round. Sha, we are thankful to M.I.A and co. who added one more english word to our vocab.

Then there was 'P'. You know my P. The question must be asked - What precisely is the 'P'? Yes, we all got a general idea from Mr. Naetochukwu, but right now it is so seriously overcooked. Current applications in use include: Where's the P@? What's the P? How far with ma P? People please. Save our souls. And the braincells we still have in employ.

Beach Days

For a greater part of this week, I've been bathing at Manzini. The reason being, no running water at home. What on earth is going on in this town?!? We are sinking to Lagos standards very quickly (and quietly too). So everymorning, we troop out of the house into the Motos, armed with flip flops, towels, and buckets (amid other things). Whereforth art thou oh beach???

On thursday last, El padre did his thang, and moved the house (contents, of course) all by himself (and with some assistance from his beloved babe), a whole 24hours early. Imagine my surprise when I had to get moto from brova at the house for midweek service, and I saw my bed, dresser and other sturves settled in the new place already. And I said to myself: "Self, this has Mr. Valentine written alllll over this". Xandra's first concern was locating her Passport. I secondarily confirmed mine was still in my possession. After I had primarily confirmed that the money I left in my dresser was still mine, and located the money I left on the bedside thingy was still alive. Madre ever so kindly returned it to me (after hoping she had hit some mini-jackpot. Amen to that!)

So the girl has officially changed residency. Location not late-night-out-and-still-return-home-at-oddest-hours-compatible, but that cannot be helped. Will have to work my way around that. For now, one must dash to the airport, braving the wet roads and crater-holes, to pick man.

()

For morning when day break, lion go run, antelope go run. If lion no run pass antelope, im go starve. If antelope no run pass lion, im go die. Whichever one you be, day don break. May you begin run.

One of my father's many wise sayings is that women spend so much time getting ready because we have so much to choose from. If we had two shirts, a pair of pants, one skirt and a pair of flats, we wouldn't be so caught up all the time. While I beg to differ (as long as there is a variety - no matter how minimal, there will be indecisiveness), I get the point. Right now, I just may be suffering from far too much amorous attention. Why on earth am attracted to the ones I know I'm incompatible with and have no chance, and so indifferent to the (seemingly) perfect ones who seem to be crazy about me and just want to lavish me with attention, shopping and the likes???

Who Moved My Brain???

I kissed someone I ought not to have. Ok. I made out with him. And now I feel so ashamed of myself. I led him on, and I set myself up for potential failure, knowing fully well what my stand is (supposed to be) on pre-marital sex. What is it with me and this companionship-hunt anyways? I just seem to love defining the boundaries just so I can leap over it. An appealing solution is to quit dating altogether. Get to know the guys as friends, and move from there if I feel certain I'd like to pursue something more (should incase they are actually single at that given point). One of my many advisers reckons I should be considerate of where the guys are coming from too, and be a bit flexible with my principles. How then, is one flexible on a subject you either do or don't? I don't buy.

So here I am for now, trying to critically analyse my every move and motive. Sipping on my Mango Tea and trying to breathe around my chronic sinusitis.