Unsolved Mysteries

A lot of people get asked, if you could have a conversation with God, what would you talk about? For me I would want an explanation to these eternal nagging questions:
1. What happened to Amelia Earhart?
2. Who took the Lindberg baby and why? Or did the baby never leave the house at all?
3. Was Jimmy Hoffa really killed? And where did they hide his body if he was?
4. What happened on the Marie Celeste?
5. Was there a second gunman on that grassy knoll?

Those are the true mysteries of life. Knowing anything else would take all the fun out. A life without pain and suffering means you never learn endurance. Heartbreak helps you recognize love when you see it. I'm always scared about heaven. At the risk of sounding sacrilegeous, the truth is I've always felt heaven would be boring. There would be no books to read. No movies to watch. No music to listen.....except instrumentals. On HARPS no less! And seriously, how long can the awe of God's presence last before it wears a little thin?We're talking eternity here guys.
Human existence is about finding your way. Finding your fundamental truth. It's what we write about. What we create music about. It's what we go to visit cinemas to watch. Buy video games to play. I've hurt. I've cried. I've asked God why. But, having him answer that, well it would be like being given the answers to a crossword puzzle. The fun is being able to figure it out on your own. So yeah, if God were to come, I wouldn't ask him how to cure cancer. That's what my phd is for. Instead I would want to know what really happened in that bunker where Hitler was supposed to have committed suicide. And did OJ really do it?

Birthday Blues

In a couple of hours I am going to be a year closer to 30. I am not a happy camper. I am a scared, lonely, broke, old ass chick. Scratch that, an old hag who has refused to outgrow her tomboy ways. I'm hard on myself I know. At some level, I must be this totally hot chick who's intelligent, funny, lovely to be with.....at least that's what my current fan is telling me. See, I'm liking this dude and he's been calling and texting everyday. Not so much that I'm creeped out but just enough to keep me looking forward to hearing from him. However, I've got a really hot friend he seems to be checking out.

Then there's my job situation. Still don't have one. And I don't want one. Not really. Somehow over the years I have come to believe and expect that I will love whatever job I have. And nothing out there has given me that tingle I'm looking for. I need to stop being starry-eyed. My chief advisor is of the opinion that it is about time I did what needed to be done and stop expecting to be "happy". Ok....

Then there's my education issue. I want to go further. Want to be top at my field. Want to learn so much more. At the end of every educational hurdle it feels like I haven't really learned anything. I don't feel knowledgable in the least about my so-called field of expertise. Again my advisor says " inco get on with your life and get married already (stupid jerk)".

So here I am. Another birthday. Utterly depressed. Wishing I were anywhere but here. No that's not true. Wishing I were where I thought I'd be oh so many years ago when my current wide-eyed expectations were still ok to have. When did it become not allowed for someone to hope and dream and expect that their life would work out the way they wanted it?

This is such a low and depressing post. Ok something upbeat: I WANT A BB FOR MY BIRTHDAY! A Curve if you please. A Bold 2 even nicer :)


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Your Comment Will Be Visible After Approval By Author

....or something like that.......

I have a confession: i have always thought of freaksho as a snob. as in he's always nice to me with just a tad bit of condescension mixed in. and then when i realised he moderates his blog comments? "what an ASS!!" ....albeit a pretty cute one (sorry i couldnt resist).
but then, ever since i returned to this country, and am forced to use the embarassingly dodgy contraption you know as internet, my otherwise little noticed blog has been plagued by the most AWFUL horrendous spam (??? can i call it "spam") to ever hit anyone. so now, i am forced to make a public apology. Freak darling, i am so sorry for doubting your oh so superior genius. i am not worthy. so folks, sorry, but from now on, i gotta approve your comments. so u (very few) who wait the extra seconds after making a comment to actually SEE YOUR WORDS ON THE INTERNET (yes, i meant to write that in caps....cue angelic chorus and loud trumpet sounds)....yeah, not gonna happen. sorry :(

I miss my wifi

In a perfect world, I would totally be rocking my Touch. It's got awesome features including this one which allows me to type out a blog in my spare time and publish it directly without getting up from my bed.
I really miss that. Being able to check bank accounts, send and recieve emails and even chat on days when I'm too darn lazy to get out of bed, or turn on the computer and wait for it to start up. But those days are gone now. I no longer have a completely wired house allowing me to connect all my wifi enabled gadgets. I actually now have to get up from my very comfortable chair and then connect my laptop physically to the printer to print. Fucking hell!
Why do I have this problem? Well it's simple really, THERE IS NO FUCKING LIGHT IN FUCKING NIGERIA!!! Light Up Nigeria people. Everything else would be so bloody bearable if we just had light 24-7. Seriously. Think about it. Anyone who gives us uninterrupted power supply can get his dick sucked or constant cunnilingus (come on ladies we're not left out!) on demand. If that isn't sufficient motivation to get a move on, I don't know what is!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Update

tomorrow, i celebrate the anniversary my fourth month back. I have mosquito bites all over my body. I have lost 2 very good friends (and counting)...no they didnt die, we're drifting apart. Funny how the distance made us so close and now the closeness is making us so distant :(

I've also gained a couple new friends. Just a couple really, seeing as I suck at making friends.

Uh what else...oh! i've lost a bit of weight. the scales say i havent but i can swear my boobs look smaller and my jeans are all loose now. i'm getting to the last holes on my belts. Good or bad thing? we'll have to see.

So am I still happy to be home? I dont know. I am not missing the other home(s) yet although my partner in crime, who came at the same time I did, has packed his bags and run back to the UK.

I'm over HIM finally. Amazing. It took a single comment by someone who really shouldnt matter to make me see that our "friendship" wasnt necessary.

I've also come to discover that about 95% of friends are in some way connected to my exes. i'm forced to see those penises everywhere i go now! i've started a weeding process but it is so not working! my rule to never date a guy whose friends dont like me n vice versa backfiring on me.....

2009 sucked balls. i finished the year broke, depressed, completely confused and had lost all focus. its april, and i'm getting my hope back. things are coming into focus. my path is slowly being cleared of the overgrowth. that weedkiller called prayer is doing its job.

ok i have no more gist. and this slow connection is driving me nuts! how long does it take to download 8 1-hour episodes off itunes for heaven's sake??!!

Naija Weight Loss Plan (patent pending)

Phase 1: Lagos

Step 1: Arrive at the airport. The power goes out while your luggage is still being brought out on the carrel. So you have to drag your two excessively overweight bags off the carrel while holding on to your precious laptop bag as well the carry-on bag you brought off the plane. Then you realize that the carts aren't free…..and you have no naira. So you drape the carry on and laptop bag on each shoulder then drag your two suitcases out of the airport. You get outside and realize that you also have no cell phone and that the nearest call place is "waaaaaay down that way"……

Step 2: You leave your aunt's house ready to go a-visiting. Then they tell you that the cabs are just a "little up the road". As you have sworn with all that is in you to never get on an okada, you decide to walk there. Conveniently, you forget that you're smack dab in the middle of the tropics during HARMATTAN season no less and that when you left it was snowing. You arrive sweating and exhausted at the car park then breathlessly tell the cab man the address. But it's not over, because the bloody bastard is trying to gouge out your eyes and cut off your right arm and left leg (get it??), so you gather your final strength and revive all your haggling skills. Finally, when you're both satisfied, you sink into the backseat and endure the hot, dusty ride.

Phase 2: Ibadan

Step 1: Your mom generously drops you off at your friend's house. She even lets you take the wheel. No biggie you think remembering all the weaving through traffic and switching lanes at 100 mph that you've come to enjoy. So you get on the road. It's an easy drive up your long street. You get on the main road, your mom's relaxed. Gabbing on the phone informing all and sundry that you are around and ready to be taxed so feel free to drop by. You get to a major junction. There's a policeman there directing traffic. You patiently wait your turn, and when he directs you, you move. Ah this isn't so bad you think. Then you get to another junction and you let the cars with the right of way pass you

"what are you doing?"

"huh?"

"my friend will you move?"

"but mummy it isn't my turn"

You hear the snort from the person she is currently gabbing with. By the time you get to your friend's house, all you want to do is curl up into a ball and rock back and forth.

Step 2: While at your friend's house, you decide to attend evening mass. You faintly recall that it was a short walk from their place. Plus it's evening so it's nice outside. You proceed to walk expecting any moment to see the steeple. You climb up a hill. Then you walk down another, artfully dodging okadas and wayward cars. Can't these people see that you're a pedestrian you fume. Finally, you get to church and say a small prayer of thanks that you convinced your friend to come get you after church. Mass takes way longer than it used to. Your friend has sent a text telling you he got tired of waiting outside so you should meet at the restaurant down the street. WHY ME you cry in your heart as you wearily trudge to the spot, planning how you'll chop off his head if he even suggests that you just walk home.

Step 3: Aaaah your friend's AC works. You sit back in the car and just enjoy the coolness of it while you reminisce about those bottles of real cold water you just downed. Then you feel a rumble. You look around in shock thinking o Lord are there earthquakes now in Nigeria? Then you realize its coming from your tummy. Your mind flashes back to the orgasmic moi-moi and ogi you had for breakfast. Your stomach rumbles again, and you wonder why your friend is suddenly driving so slowly. Good God man drive damn you! As you struggle to hold it all in, it comes back to you that you only ever used to eat moi-moi or any other beans products in the evening and only if there was tons of bread available. As you finally sink onto the toilet seat and settle down with your book for a long visit, you think how this is a much more effective and better tasting alternative to the horrid Chinese slimming tea you'd been on. Hmmm…

Phase 3: Port Harcourt

Step 1: You get to Mo and P-W's house only to realise they live on the third floor. And Mo's at work damn him so you can't pull a press gang move on him. Wearily you shoulder your laptop bag, travelling bag and this silly hand bag sort of thingie you have suddenly taken to carrying. As you climb, you struggle to keep your feet under you if only to protect your precious VAIO from an irreparable fall (because that extended warranty against accidental damage you pulled out teeth to pay for suddenly means nothing); but that is hard as tiled steps combined with frightening amounts of beach-like sand common only to Port Harcourt endeavour to remove all forms of friction needed to keep you upright.

Step 2: You wake up with a craving for Big Treat goodies. You call and get directions there then walk out of M n P's place and walk out the meandering path that eventually lands you on Abuloma Road. You then proceed to walk to MotherKart. Was the Sun always this hot you wonder? You struggle to remember the bus stop you're going to as you hop on the bus. You ask the conductor how much the fare is. As he pauses before giving you the price you wearily recall that Port Harcourt conductors will hike the bus fare for you once they got you pegged as a newbie. Unfortunately you are so tired that you couldn't be bother to haggle the extra 10 to 20 naira he's stealing from you. You do manage to mutter a hope that he chokes on it as you offer up the fare. You get to your bus stop and realize with mounting terror that you have no recollection of how to get the next bus you are about to take. You sadly remember a time when you knew the town like the back of your hand and could…..sigh you swallow your pride and politely ask directions. At the back of your mind you wish you were a corper again or could at least still fit into your old uniform. People were so much nicer back then. You get to your destination. Or as close as you can because the name of the real bus stop you wanted as completely escaped your mind. You dodge traffic and okadas as you cross a busy junction. You enter Big Treat. The bakery is just as you remember it. After that walk, and the walk you still have ahead of you figure what the hell. I want this and this and that and that….oh and that too. It comes up to less than what you thought it would be. You wonder if you should get more, but you remember you have no credits on your phone and your account is slowly dwindling. You get out, cross the busy junction then cross Aba Road. You wearily rack your brain for the name of the bus stop you're supposed to be going to. "Drop?" Those magic words put a smile on your face. You enter and get dropped in front of Mo's place. The slippery three story walk up is triumphed over then you flop down next to P-W. You doze off as she starts to talk.

Phase 4: Abuja

Step 1: Your private car ride doesn't work out. You're stuck taking ABC. The bus is 3 hours late then informs you there's no space for your luggage. You yell and rant until something is done. As you're finally getting on the bus, the driver decides to move so you almost topple off the bus. You clutch your precious VAIO to your chest (yes people I LOVE MY VAIO DAMN YOU!! IT'S THE ONLY SLEEK BLACK THING TO GIVE ME PURE UNADULTERATED PLEASURE!!) as you mutter curses under your breath. You get on and there are no seats available. Then you realise you didn't upload enough music on your mp3 player to last through the whole trip. After 10 hours of the torture of being stuck on a bus with UI pensioners you get to Gwagwa-something or the other. There, the driver informs all of you headed to Abuja to get off. Whaaa??? You drag yourself and your belongings off the bus, find your luggage, the lug it to the other bus. Then you hear that the intel was wrong. You drag yourself back. Then they say….after an hour plus being used as a ping pong ball, you settle in the original bus and get to your final destination. By then the crappy AC, dust, fumes from the stupid buses have wreaked their havoc on your sinuses.

Step 2: You need internet. Badly. To get the usb modem, you need money. To get money, you need to find your bank. Its just down the road you are told. So you walk. Just a little further they tell you. So you walk a little more. Northern sun beats down on your unprotected head and you wearily wonder at the back of your mind where you can buy SPF 65 sunscreen. You never find the bank. You turn around and wearily return to the house. You glare at everyone you pass, hating them for lying to you and for actually enjoying this weather. You refuse to leave the house from then on.

If significant weight loss has still not occurred:

Decide to go visit a friend on Adeyi. Decide to walk there seeing as it is in the same estate. You walk up your very long street. As you near Arigidi, you begin to lose some feeling in your legs but hey there's Ojo'o badan right there. Once you walk across you're practically at Adeyi. You cross Osuntokun with a bit more spring in your step and you start down Ojo'o badan. Halfway you see that the street is actually a lot longer that you first estimated. But no okadas are allowed here so you keep walking. Soon, you can see Awolowo Avenue ahead. Then you see the Davies Hotel. Yes! You're there! But, Adeyi starts at No 1 ad you're headed to No 53….

You have a wonderful visit. Feeling well fed and bursting with five years of gossip, you decline a ride home so your host can "escort" and fill you in on all you've missed out on. They leave you at Ojo'o badan. Just a little walk you think in your well fed state. All you have to do is get past Ojo'o badan, cross Osuntokun, and Bob's your uncle you're home! You walk a bit. The soporific effects of the amala start to wear off. That old numb feeling is returning to your legs. You hear the soles of your precious sandals wearing away. You would sell your soul for cold water you think; then look around hopefully for a guy in a red cape, horns, cold water and where you'll sign. Eventually, you get home. Never again you vow.

Prologue: Two days later, another friend tells you, their mom is baking. It's just a short walk you think…...

Home Sweet Home

I'm home. It is boiling hot and I have not seen NEPA abi na PHCN generated electricity since I got here. I havent had a glass of cold water in days. My feet are swollen from a combo of walking and the unbearable heat. I am even more self conscious about my weight as I have ever been because people keep staring at me in shock damn it! I have had to refrain from cursing out people at my bank. Have bank workers always been this rude? And ugly? And badly dressed? I'm no fashion plate, but I distinctly remember being impressed at the attire of the people who worked at the banks before I left. Having said all that.....

I"M HOME!!! I'M HOME!!!! I"M HOME!!! I AM HOME!! WOOHOO!! After almost two years of utter abysmal depression with several plans of suicide never carried out only because of Freak's encouraging words, and the possible hook up with THE CRUSH (which never happened....and never will but one can dream....); and of course I'm Nigerian for heaven's sake! We no dey do that kain ting. So I have no job, and my pure science/clinical research/ lecturing-teaching experience will probably never translate into the nigerian market so my hopes of getting one are..... I am still so happy to be home. I'll probably go back. Only have friends in this country and I still want that PhD! But it is so good to be back. I've missed my country so. Its true what they say aint nothing like home!

My adventure on the way home coming soon.....

Gemstone 2025 Nigeria

I havent ranted in a while, but I have found something that is really getting my goat at the mo'....so here comes the rant!

so my friend Tosyn has been hyping up this Makeover Mushin event taking place on Saturday December 12. i was like damn, thats a great idea. for painful but somewhat obvious reasons i cant make it. but hey its a great idea so why not join the organisation that put it together yeh? so i go to the website and i click on "register". first, they ask for my full name and inform me that it will be prominently displayed on the website as will my location. ok i prefer anonymity but ok... next they ask me who am i? not a bad question so i write up a lil bio. then they ask where do i see myself in 2025? ummmm why?

next q: what is my life vision? uh...what?

then what would i want to be number 1 at in 2025? how in the hell is that your business?

what are your achievements so far (your track record)? so i have to have volunteered before? and if i'm just getting into it. what then?

what groups have u lead or played a pivotal role in? umm this is still about volunteering right?

what are your life values? ok you know what? FORGET IT! i'll just stick to Red Cross and the Rotary Club.

Wanted:

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Take Me As I Am

the latest craze in town is to get incoherent a man. even guys are getting in on it. asking me about this guy or that. pointing out the good qualities of this dude or that one. there's one chick who has been threatening to create a profile for me on one of these online dating sites. now, i am even more guarded with my pictures than i used to be. sigh.

as if that weren't bad enough, i now get advice on how i can "fix" myself so i can get the man:

lose that stomach. dress better. wear makeup. show more cleavage. you're too bossy. need to tone it down. don't be so sarcastic. let the man be a man. must you be so geeky? no one cares about the wonders of the LHC. put down that popular mechanics; here, read a cosmo. why are you in this aisle drooling over that drill set?

why must it be that there is something wrong me? why can it not be that i am going through a me phase right now, and a man wouldn't fit in? what is wrong in expecting a man to want me for me? the tomboy dork who wants to change the world. i like museums and the opera and Broadway. i also like T.I and Eminem and Nas. I have partied 4 days straight getting only 6 hours of sleep in between. but i have also sat in the lab for the same 4 days on the same 6 hours of sleep.

my point is i don't want to change. i have room for improvement. we all do. but i don't want anyone who cannot be content with the me of right now. i don't want or ask my loved ones to change. if they change for the better in some way, thats cool. but i will love them even if they never change. do i not have the right to ask for the same acceptance of me in return?

so man, boyfriend, love, husband: if you actually exist (because i don't believe everyone is meant to be married or "with" someone), you better come willing to to me just as i am cuz i aint changing.....at least not until i am good and well ready to.