Anonymous

"Why you gotta be anonymous?" Bobby Valentino

I have a blog. And I have a twitter account. Neither are generally advertised. Neither are ever associated with my real self. Sadly, some supposedly well meaning people do not get this. Yeah, I've heard my tweets are funny and interesting. Also heard that I'm a decent writer. Thanks. You want other people to see this too. Thanks. But do they also need my personal history? Do they need to my name, date of birth, and matriculation number?

Privacy is very important to me. My job requires a level of decorum. I need a place of peace and tranquility where I can spout any and all. Yes, most of what I blog and tweet about are stuff I will and do say as my real self. But not in the same way, not with the same rank honesty.

My life is stressful. Self-imposed granted, but stressful all the same. I need my outlet. That I chose to share this outlet with you does not mean it is now for the public. I don't want followers. I don't want notoriety. I'm not looking for hits or likes or retweets. I just want to live. And blog. And tweet. Anonymously.

But then again, this has just taught me that no one is to be trusted. If I didn't want people to know who I was, I shouldn't have ever mentioned the existence of this site or my twitter handle to anyone.

I miss the days when people weren't even sure if I was male or female....

Don't Mess With My

It tickles me to no end when I hear that someone's wife or girlfriend feels threatened by me. I mean, do you lack that much self confidence? You looked all over and decided that the most asexual female around your man was the biggest threat.

The first time it happened, I'm not gonna lie, I was deliriously flattered. After years of being written off as one of the guys, some (hot!) chick thought I was serious competition...ho-hem-gee! I told everyone! I became an instant celebrity. Girls suddenly started talking to me...well, I started talking to them. We finally had something we could bond over. My current crush started looking at me in a new light. It was just so much fun! Then it became annoying. Of course he's on the webcam with me for hours. How else is he going to help me take apart my laptop and put it all back right? We're going HIKING and no, it is NOT a euphemism. You don't like to break into a sweat, and I need to take this park off my bucket list. Sit the fuck down. Which eventually she did. Her man made it clear I wasn't going anywhere and insisted she get to know me. Now we're great friends. No seriously, we talk almost everyday. (I'm awesome like that.)

The next time it happened, it wasn't so funny. This was a nine year friendship. He introduced her as his new girl and kept at me til I made her my friend. I liked her. Thought she was smart and good for my friend. Took her like a sister. She was my baby. So when her now husband told me she was not "comfortable" with our friendship, I laughed it off. Until she made a scene. And another. Then I endured two of the most stressful months in a year I would like to have never occurred. It was too much and I cut her off.

In the middle of those stressful months, some other crazy female decided that I was macking on her crush. Her CRUSH. Seriously?

The point of all this? Everyone just needs to chill. If you have self esteem issues, then you do not need to be in or be wanting a relationship. Yes, in some cases your insecurities are justified.Like if he'd informed you that you were option #2 (true story). But even then, your business is NEVER with the other women. Focus on your man. And if someone is macking on your crush, he's your crush. Last I checked, a crush is open season. If he likes you, he won't look at her. If he does, then move the fuck on. He either prefers her or doesn't really care how you feel about him with other girls. And for heaven's sake, please one and all keep me out of your fucking drama. Thanks. 

Everyday Sexism

I recently moved to a new town.The things I've heard has me learning to curb my tongue lest....*curbs tongue*
1. I'm sitting with people who have known me forever discussing property and assets and handling my father's business. One quips you know you need to get married. So that you can let your husband be worrying about all these things.....
2. Planning my budget for my new house. Friend says don't overdo your house. You don't want men to think you are so settled and they will run away.....
3. A boy at school refuses to eat a particular type of biscuit because it's got pink cream inside and "pink is only girls"; which he isn't.......
4. The agent, caretaker, carpenter, electrician all call me "baby"....
5. Men get visibly upset and abusive when they see that the female driver they were trying to cut off actually knows how to handle her car. Or when they see it's a girl driving....
6. Being reminded that make-up is necessary, as are dresses, for coming to work so that I can (finally?) get a man......
Here's the thing, none of this has ever happened before. Yes, I did encounter ignant mysoginists before. But never on this scale. Workers knew their place. I was always just another driver. And friends never thought a husband was necessary to handle business.
There's is this twitter handle I started following some time ago - @everydaysexism. It chronicles the sexism still, strongly prevalent in the society. Some of it even I roll my eyes and go get over it. But there are so many that make me (righteously) angry. I think I should start contributing to it.

To tweet or not to blog

......THAT is the question.
I've got a twitter account; which means that my sudden bursts of creative genius can be quickly posted online. No longer do I have to sit and remember what my awesome sentences which had been rolling in my head while driving home were. I don't have to read through my crap and spot the typos and other necessary edits. Comments about my thoughts are easily seen and easily responded to. No more do I have to worry about length. I am limited to 140 characters. And my attention deficit is totally enabled. Never more do I have to see a rant through. My utter randomness is embraced. Thank you twitter!
But it's not the same. My writing suffers. I have not sat through and fully expressed a thought or an emotion in a minute. There are so many things I want out there. And not in short bursts of 2-3 sentences. But rather organised paragraphs. Each one with a main idea and a point I need to get across.
I also miss reading. Sitting in front of my laptop and reading a good post from one of my blogger fam. Reading through comments. Laughing. Identifying with other people.
Blogging and commenting on blogs presents opinions and ideas in a way twitter never can. With a blog you can elaborate (just like I'm doing now) whether in your piece or in the comments you leave on a post. Opposing ideas are better expressed with a blog.
Yes, twitter is awesome. My wit and sarcasm are having the time of their lives. As is my ratchety ghetto side. But my intellect suffers. A lot. Cuz ghetto Incoherent doesn't stay in her cage no mo'.
Ugh! There's another annoying thing about blogging: coming up with a title! And y'all know I need to be all clever and what not with. ...bleh I'm lazy. Take what you get.

Apology To My Fans

I am going through stuff now which has turned me into a whiny emo. I really truly suck at writing so I only get on here when I really can't shut up about something. Unfortunately, twitter is 140 characters and blogger is.....

so yeah, my usual crazy spews are in the wind. and all i do these days is post sad entries about how i just wanna be loved.

well you know what, you will all just have to deal with it! i have decided to wallow in my self pity and you will all wallow in it with me damn you!!

dear God I need cake.....*staggers off*

The Naija Weight Loss Plan (s)Tres(s)

aaaaargh!!! i'm still faaaaaaat!!!

OK, i'm exaggerating. I have lost some weight. I now fit into these skinny jeans, and my once skinny jeans (as of  JANUARY no less!) is now something I can take off without unbuttoning. Sadly that isn't enough. My Buddha belly is still jiggling. Although, at least now it jiggles. Used to be massive and rock hard. I would go days without pooping. Now that I've cut out bread (sweet, hot, soft, fresh bread *bites fist*), I do the morning doodoo like everyday. Honestly feels goods.

I haven't been hitting the gym everyday like before because of work, but I've added basketball to my repertoire. Played my first game today. I'm happy to say, I feel that sweet ache. It's not as awesome as after dojo back in the day, but my muscles definitely worked today!

Still need to make time for the gym though. My arms are horrible jiggly. I climbed a famous hill in my home town this past Thursday and the pictures I took were horrifying! I looked and whimpered "Are those really my arms? Nooooooooooo". You could barely see the awesome view behind me Damn you gelatinous arms.  *shakes fist. stares at upper arm in morbid fascination* Yeah, I can't live like this. Something must be done!

I've scheduled a basketball game for tomorrow morning. I have enough time to make aerobics class at 7 am then basketball at 9.

I walked away from a Cold Stone ice cream cake on Saturday.....only because I didn't have the money though. Treated myself to ice cream with Tobelerone crumbled into it today. Yeah....I'm placing the order for those cakes asap......

Doubt

He cheated. Well, not technically. No court of law would ever convict him. But it doesn't change the fact that what he did was wrong. He hurt me. He lied to me. No matter what I did, how I felt about him I just could not get past that.

Finally, he apologizes. After asking not to be labelled, put in a box, having his intentions "interpreted for him", straight up insisting he did nothing wrong.....he admits he was wrong. I accept the apology. I forgive him.

Or have I? He's said sorry. He's moved on. He's not with me. I should just let it all go shouldn't I? So why can't I? And it's not even the getting back together angle. I know I'm going to get over wanting him back. But, why is it that I would even consider it?

When significant others stray, how do their partners take them back? I'm not sure I would? I remember the bible, WWJD, and the whole 70 x 7 thing. But how in the world do you move past that? Not consider that fact in any and every decision you take?

He preferred her to me. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I became the side chick and she the main one. Maybe that's what hurts. So it's a pride thing. Ok. I can deal with that.....I think.

Gangster Squad

I'm not the mushy type. I don't do hugs, or any of that happiness crap. I am a gloomy person. Most of the time, my gadgets, music, books (and cake!!) are enough for me.
But sometimes, I like my friends. Yesterday was my day on the3six5ngproject. I talked about getting my nerd on with a fellow geek. Today, we went to watch Gangster Squad. Seeing as we went right after church, we were the only ones in the cinema. It was epic. We. Went. Nuts.
With no one around to judge us (or take incriminating pictures) we let loose. We screamed. Jumped around. Squealed. Finished cliche lines in loud voices. I found out today just how eerily alike we are. So much fun. Great day. Great day.
Hopefully she never reads this.....

The Naija Weightloss Plan: Part Dough

I am fat. There is no denying it. I hate people who try to reassure me that I'm okay. Although, I abhor those who agree when I say it. Lie to me damn you! The appropriate response is "oh you're not that fat luv". Learn it practise it. So those of you who not only agree but go even further to point out my smooth, round 3 months belle and chicken wing arms........A POX ON YE!
Fine, I am not as big now as I was two years ago. The Naija Weight Loss plan really worked! I was steadily losing weight, but recently reached a plateau and even started regaining weight at one point. Drastic action had to be taken.
First, I shut my eyes and joined a gym. I hate gyms. I hate running on a treadmill or riding a stationary bike. I mean seriously. a STATIONARY BIKE! Why would a sane person get on that and ride and go nowhere?! They don't even provide one of those moving scenery things so you feel like you're headed somewhere. Bleh. The place has personal trainers which means there's always someone making me do all this hard stuff. (and I really hate being told what to do). Those evil beings pass around increasing my treadmill pace just when I'm getting comfortable. I never have enough wind to cuss them out. And I'm too blinded by sweat to glare properly. Then the aerobics classes. Ugh! Grown ass people jumping around to music. 99 % of the women have never heard of a sports bra. Spandex reigning supreme. *dry heave* Yoga classes are the worst! You put me on a mat, play deadass music then expect me NOT to fall asleep? I mean! Come oon people! But despite all, I have persevered. I have perfected my routine and now I never (rarely, sometimes, not too many) miss a day. I do a 30 minute walk to the gym, stay for at least an hour and do the 30 minute walk back home. I do as much as possible not to cheat. It's been fun. I love the weight training. So much of cute butts and back to (myopically) stare at.
Then it turns out you need to eat to lose weight. Waiting too long between meals causes bloating. Who knew! Now seeing as I only eat once a day, it explains my massive pot. To remedy this, I'm setting 4 hour timers. Goes off 30 mins before time so I can go forage for food. Let's see how all of this pans out......
Next, I focused on my diet. Already, I never eat after 7 pm. Been on that for years now. hurts my tummy when I eat late anyway. I don't stick to it, but when I do, the awesome flatness of my tummy the next morning is so invigorating! Now, I've also cut down my sugar. I do mean my sugar. I'm the sort who sprinkles sugar on plantain before frying. (Caramelised dodo yummmmmmmm!) I've also reduced my salt intake. I am over cake now. And bread. And ice cream *sob sob* No, I'm not. Not really. I just discovered this lady who makes marvelous chessecake. And I've convinced several bros to buy me cake. I love cake. I really do..........
So I can't remember why I started  this post. It was supposed to be this really funny tirade on how perpetually hungry I am. And how all diets totally suck. Jeez! When did I become this boring?
Cake