I'm not most girls...

Same Script, Different Food

2008-06-22T07:44:00.002Z

We sit together across a table
Me and you. And you. And you
The atmosphere is stuffy with all the pleasant formalities
Of people who enjoy each other’s company
And have spent time planning and cooking
So as to spend a little quality time together

Over a first course of tomato and mozzarella salad
We dip into a little light conversation
Who you’ve seen and how awful they look
We enquire about characters from previous dinner parties
Are they still pathetic?
We express shock that apparently intelligent people can be so misguided
And laugh out loud at the misfortunes of many
Who knew disability could be so funny?

A more meaty conversation accompanies the mains
As always, it’s religion or culture
A few half histories and plenty of misinformation later,
You joke about sacrificing animals in my church
And tell me the Bhurka started out as a fashion statement
Oh what bad teeth the English have
As usual I just smile and nod
And mmmhh and ahhh over our ‘wonderful meal’

Today, by desert, I realise with a burst of pride that I have made it almost to the finish
Without ever once joining in your fundamentally flawed debates
Or lying through my teeth about how good the food is
I giggle (unfortunately at the wrong point in the conversation) when I think to myself, that if someone enforced the saying, ‘if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all’
I would be surrounded by absolute, complete, blissful silence

Oh well, I look forward to next time
It’ll only be the same old script, hopefully just with better desert

It was the Best of Times ...

2008-02-12T07:52:00.000Z

‘It will be the best three years of your life’ … ‘the friends you make there will be friends you’ll have for life’.

My dad’s huge enthusiasm about university made it something I couldn’t wait to do. After all, he should know, he has like six degrees. I was very disappointed when I found out I didn’t get into Nottingham University and instead I would be going to Aberystwyth, a small university in Wales that I hadn’t heard of until a close family friend started there a year previously. It was little comfort that after writing it out so many times during the application process, I could at least spell it!

All my doubts flew far far away from the moment we started the picturesque drive on winding country roads and my excitement was uncontrollable when we stopped at a pub for lunch; one filled with several other students on their way to Aberystwyth.

I could talk about every single experience I went through at Aberystwyth but I have a full-time job and you probably have a life so I’ll just stick to the highlights but it would be accurate to say that it completely changed me. From the very first day, after my parents left and I was left alone in my larger than average room at one end of a noisy hallway filled with 35 girls, I became more me. I used to be pretty shy with people I didn’t know but I walked down from room to room saying hey to everyone and getting to know them as much as you possibly can in a 5 minute conversation. I had decided to study International Relations because I wanted to be a lawyer but I didn’t want to do a law degree because I heard it was boring. I knew nothing about International Politics; I didn’t even like watching the news, so there was a slight fear that while I might love uni life, I could hate my course. But I didn’t. I loved it. It was so interesting and so enlightening that even now, I read books that were part of the curriculum. It shaped the way I view the world, and made me much more aware of what goes on behind what we see on the news. I find international politics so fascinating that while I might never use my degree professionally, I would do it over again and I intend to study it further at some point just out of interest.

I also took part in an exchange program to Victoria, on Vancouver Island in Canada. I can’t pretend I was even slightly apprehensive about going across the world to a place where I knew literally one family, and they lived a 3 hour ferry ride away, but looking back, I recognize how bold it was. It was an amazing experience, one which fuelled the decision that I’d like to live in Canada one day, and one which left me with some amazing friends.

It’s funny when I think about how shy I used to be and how nervous I was on my second night out, playing the drinking game ‘I have never’ with second year students (wow, they seemed so worldly), eyes wide open while people took gulp after gulp to signify that they’d done things I hadn’t even heard people talk about before. I used to be more of a stay at home person and honestly, that first year in university, I must have gone out literally every night. It was just so much fun, making friends and getting to know each other, having crushes on boys, partying. I was having such a blast that I barely called home and completely lost touch with a lot of my old friends.

My sister came to the same university when I was in my second year and we had such a blast. She was a real party girl and she made my first year look tame but thanks to her, my second and third year lived up the precedent I set for myself in the first year.

I need to pay some respect to the town that undoubtedly had such a large part to play in all of this. Aberystwyth is a small town, it probably takes 45 minutes to walk from one end (any end) to another and it was a complete student town. There were only three happening clubs at any one time (including the union) but I believe it has the most bars per square mile than any other town in Wales. There were about 60 bars and we all knew which were good for which occasion. The Varsity on Tuesday for pound party before we all flocked en masse to Pier Pressure, the club everyone went to which was on a pier … The Cambrian for crazy cocktails and Scholars for a nice fire place in winter and comfy sofas. The Glen where we all went on Saturday nights and Academy, a surprisingly nice bar for Aber. Did I mention that it was a coastal town? This meant it wasn’t very cold in the winter although it was very windy and from March onwards, we literally spent our days on the beach or on the pier. While my fourth year doing my masters wasn’t as much fun as the first three, I got to accomplish a life long ambition of mine; live on the sea front. Believe me when I say that there is nothing better than going to sleep with the sound of turbulent waves crashing just outside your window and nothing distracts you from your revision as much as the sun streaming though the window and the sound of gentle waves lapping at the rock. I even saw dolphins once from my window. It was a magical place.

I made so many friends and got to know more people that I would have if my dad had let me come to London like I wanted to. Like I try and explain to people, in a big university, the people you see often are usually in lectures and only then if it’s a small lecture theatre. In Aberystwyth, if you sat next to someone in a lecture, chances are you’d see them out somewhere that very week, when this happens enough times with enough people, pretty soon you know practically everyone!

So I guess my father was right. I’m reluctant to call it the best three years of my life because I’m definite there will be several even better years ahead. But it’s definitely the best three years of my life so far.

Happy New Year!!!

2008-01-10T08:38:00.000Z

Hey! I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and are looking forward to the New Year. I was in Birmingham for Christmas with the family and then in Lagos from the 27th for a two week holiday … I’m having an amazing time!

For the first time this year, it actually hit me just how much can happen in a year. I have friends who weren’t even engaged this time last year, and got married at the end of the year. I know other people who were with the person we all thought they would spend their lives with and they’d broken up by the end of the year. And I have a friend whose huge dream I was discussing with her at the beginning of last year and she was well on her way to achieving it mid way through the year and she’s now running her own very successful business. Basically, while a year might fly by, so much can happen and I’m really looking forward to it. For the first time, the significance of a new year hit me and the beginning of this year just feels for me like it is so full of potential and all I have to do is live it, and grab the many opportunities with both hands.

I’m excited about all the unexpected stuff that’ll happen to me this year but there are also some things I want to achieve this year!

This is the year that I’m getting my dream body. I want to lose about 25 pounds and this is the year I’m going to do it. I’m happy with what I look like at the moment (though I have put on a couple of pounds over Christmas and in Lagos) but it’s about having the best body I possibly can. Something I can look back on when I’m old and wrinkly and say to my grandchildren, ‘granny used to be H.O.T.T. HOT back in the day’. I joined weight watchers just before Christmas and I’ll take running even more seriously. I’m considering maybe giving a briefly weekly report on my blog after weigh-in every Wednesday. Anybody else feel like joining WW so we can do it together?

Blog a bit more regularly, and by regularly I mean at least once a month. Yeah yeah, I can hear the moans but that’s a start and I said AT LEAST that much so it could be more. Those of you that make it your life’s mission to inform me how long it’s been since I blogged last (ahem Buki, Noni), you officially have a case if I haven’t blogged in a month.

I want to give more to people less fortunate than I am. I want to give more time, more money, more thought, just more of everything I have to give. Some things really strike a cord with me like the Tsunami a few years ago or the article I wrote about in my last post, and for a few days I’m indignant and determined to do something because it reminds me how fortunate I am in comparison to a lot of others and for me, being so blessed comes with an obligation to help others. Over time though, I forget those feelings and don't do as much as I intended to so basically, I want to do more this year.

I need to find a way to organise my personal life better. I need time for myself but I know the time I should give to the people I care about suffers. I also have some people in my life who take up more time than they give back to me or anyone else and I feel I need to limit the time and effort I spend on these people – nothing drastic like cutting them out but just treating people according to the level of priority they hold in my life. I find the people that love me the most are often the people I don’t treat as well because I can get away with it because they’ll always love me but that’s just taking advantage of them and it’s stopping now!! They’re the people I should invest my time in because they’re the people I’ll still love a hundred years from now.

Read my bible more and get to know God better.

I’m already planning a few trips this year; Dublin, Paris, (Jamaica, Atlanta, Philadelphia, maybe San Fran all in one trip) and probably Lagos again at the end of the year so while I don’t think my holiday allowance and wallet will let me do much more this year, I want to start looking ahead to next years holidays too. I’m back on track with my mission to visit a new country every year!

Generally, I want to be better with money, specifically, I want to save £500. It’s not a lot but I have no savings at the moment and I think it’ll be a good start.

I want to be a bit naughtier in 2008 … not go crazy or anything but I’m so damn sensible! Chances are I won’t make any big mistakes – due to aforementioned sensibleness – but I want to be a bit crazier this year, maybe go skinny dipping, get really drunk, go away for a spontaneous weekend … that kind of thing.

I’d like to be consciously happier this year. When things are going well and I’m happy, I am going to stop and appreciate it and recognise how good it is. And when they’re not so good, I don’t want to just accept it. I will try to figure out what is wrong and what I can do to fix it.

So I think that's it ... I might add to this list throughout the year and maybe I'll do a review at the end of the year to see how much I achieved. Is there anything you want to acheive in 2008?

Women left for dead in the Congo

2007-11-18T19:03:00.000Z

I read the most horrific article in US Glamour this weekend. It was a shocking, enlightening, amazingly well written article entitled 'Women left for dead and the man who's saving them'. It is about Dr. Denis Mukwege, who repairs women who have been the victims of brutal rape in the Congo. A country ravaged by war where rape is being used as a cheap and effective weapon of war. Not only are the women raped but they are raped in a very barbaric way, in front of their children, husbands and neighbours. They are also raped by many men at the same time and their vaginas are mutilated with guns and sticks. Dr. Mukwege says, ‘clearly these rapes are not done to satisfy any sexual desire but to destroy the soul. The whole family and community are broken.’ Below are two extracts from two women’s stories, they brought tears to my eyes.

Alfonsine is thin and poised, profoundly calm. She tells me she was walking through the forest when she encountered a lone soldier. ‘He followed me and then forced me to lie down. He said he would kill me. I struggled with him hard; It went on for a long time. Then he went for his rifle, pressed it on the outside of my vagina and shot his entire cartridge into me. I just heard the voice of bullets. My clothes were glued to me with blood. I passed out.'
Dr. Mukwege tells me, ‘I never saw such destruction. Her colon, bladder, vagina and rectum were basically gone. She had lost her mind. I was sure she wouldn’t make it. I rebuilt her bladder. Sometimes you don’t even know where you are going. There’s no map. I operated on her six times, and then I sent her to Ethiopia so they could heal the incontinence problem, and they did.'
‘I was in bed when I first met Dr. Mukwege’, Alfonsine says. He helped me spiritually. He showed me how many times God makes miracles.’
I look at Alfonsine’s petite body and imagine the scars beneath her humble white clothes. I listen carefully. I cannot detect a drop of bitterness or any desire for revenge. Instead her attention is fixed on transforming the future. She tells me with great pride, ‘I am now studying to be a nurse. My first choice is to work at Panzi. It was the nurses who nurtured me day after day, who loved me back into living. I feel like a big person in my community; I can do something for my people. Women must lead our country. They know the way’.

The next story is Nadine's.

‘I’m 29. I’m from the village of Nindja. Normally there was insecurity in our area, we would hide many nights in the bush. The soldiers found us there. They killed our village chief and his children. We were 50 women. I was with my three children and my older brother; they told him to have sex with me. He refused so they cut his head and he died.’
Nadine’s body is trembling. It is hard to believe that these words are coming out of a woman who is still alive and breathing. She told me how one of the soldiers forced her to drink his urine and eat his feces, how the soldiers killed 10 of her friends and then murdered her children: her four-year-old and two-year-old boys and her one-year-old girl. ‘They flung my baby’s body on the floor like she was garbage. One after another they raped me. From that, my vagina and anus were ripped apart’.
Incredibly, Nadine was the only one of the 50 women to escape. ‘When I got away from the soldiers, there was a man passing. He said, ‘what is that bad smell’? It was me; because of my wounds, I couldn’t control my urine or feces. I explained what had happened. The man wept right there. He and some others brought me to the Panzi hospital’.
She says, ‘when I got here I had no hope. But this hospital has helped me so much. Whenever I thought about what happened, I became mad. I believed I would lose my mind. I asked God to kill me. Dr. Mukwege told me: maybe God didn’t want me to lose my life.’
Nadine later told me the doctor was right. As she fled the slaughter, she says, she saw an infant lying on the ground next to her slain parents. Nadine rescued the girl; now having a girl to care for gives her a reason to keep going.

I was going to write about the impression this article made on me but I don’t think it is necessary. You’ll probably feel exactly the same way when you read this. I read this article at a time where I felt there were some issues in my life but this put them into such perspective. I’m guilty of forgetting how much suffering (and to what extent) is going on in the world around me and this makes me do two things which I’m incredibly ashamed of. I over-indulge myself in my own perceived problems so much so that I forget how amazing my life is, and how blessed I am. Second, I have become passive about what is going on in the world because I'm no longer faced with it on a daily basis. I need to know that I’m doing something to the best of my ability to make a difference in my own way. If you’re anything like me, please make more of an effort to make a difference in the world around you. It doesn’t have to be this cause, just anything that makes this world a slightly better place; there is so much room for improvement.

If you want to help this particular cause, you can:
- Write a letter addressed to His Excellency, the President of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Joseph Kabila Kabange; demand that he take action to stop the attacks on women. Send it to the U.N. Action Against Sexual Violence in Conflict, P.O. Box 3862, New York, NY 10163, and it will be delivered to Kabila.

- Donate money directly to Panzi hospital through www.vday.org Money donated to Panzi also goes to establish a City of Joy, a safe haven for the healed women, where they’ll learn to become political leaders.

I Want a Man Who...

2007-10-26T19:42:00.000Z

This is probably the most personal post I've ever written but it's forced me to really think about what I want in a guy. It's funny because I've had to overcome a couple of personal prejudices to write this for example, the first time I have ever uttered the words 'I want a man' was in the title of this post. Please note that I'm not saying I want a boyfriend, only that I'm open to the possibility of one.
I've heard that it is a good idea to write a list, a list of qualities that you shouldn't compromise on. I've been wanting to do this since I saw it on Yellow Ibo Girl's blog (and I've stolen a couple of points from her) so here goes.

I want a man who (in no particular order) …

… is a good person. There isn't one word I can use to qualify this but he should be the type of person who is polite and respectful to everyone because he doesn't think of anybody as beneath him. The kind of person who does good things not because of what he will gain but because it is the right thing to do. The kind of guy who says please and thank you, who would do anything for the people he cares about, who people call when they feel they have no one else to call. I need him to be the kind of person that cares about injustices and events even though they don't affect his life

… I'm very attracted to

… is ambitious. I don't care what he does, just that he wants to be the best he can possibly be at it. I want somebody for whom mediocrity isn't an option

… smiles, often and easily

… sees the best in every situation and in every person …

... likes to be active and likes the outdoors. For whom summer means walking in parks and hiking and exploring the city

… loves to travel

… will try most things once, if it doesn't go against his principles

… has principles and morals and who will stand up for them to anyone, including me

… recognises my strengths and believes in me more than I believe in myself

… tells the truth even when it is the most difficult thing to do

… is witty, sarcastic and has a great sense of humour

… gets along with my brother

… my family and friends not just approve of but like too

… is very intelligent

… believes me when I say that it is over if he ever cheats on me, and has no intention of testing the theory

… is thoughtful. He doesn't have to be a full blown romantic - I can live without flowers on valentines day but little, well thought out gestures go a long way

... is generous in every way. Not just with material things but with his time and affection

... who genuinely respects me, values my opinions and feelings

... is clean and tidy

... is secure

... who adores everything about me

I'm pretty sure I'll add to this list in the future but I'll stop here for now ... know anyone that fits the bill? (Only kidding). I know I'm picky but trust me, I'm totally worth it ;p

Nothing Worth Living For

2007-10-04T19:24:00.000Z

Sorry I've been away for a while, and thanks for actually missing me. Truth, your comment was very funny and while I didn't make your challenge of updating before the 30th of September, it's only a couple (okay 4) days after.

Another apology for returning on a bit of a depressing note but this is the first time I've felt compelled to write in a while. I heard today from someone I used to work with that a man that also worked at the company commited suicide a couple of days ago. He hadn't come into work for two days and today, the MD got a call telling him that the man had thrown himself in front of a train. He was in the process of a divorce and when his wife had left him about 5 months ago, he didn't come into work for quite a few days and when someone managed to reach him, they heard the news. He came in a few days later having lost a couple of stone and while he was obviously upset, he was the same as he always was and did his job well.

Two things struck me when I heard the news today. The fact that you never know what someone is going through. The people who worked closely with him are crying and beating themselves up thinking that they should have realised something was wrong. But from what I can remember of him, there was honestly no way to tell. He was in his late forties or early fifties I would say. A tall, good looking older guy, and a bit of a flirt. He was witty, very posh and I remember bursting out laughing one day when I heard a conversation he was having with someone where he went '... and as I said to Judi Dench...'. He became a bit quieter after his divorce and it was no secret he wasn't handling it very well but I couldn't have been more shocked when I heard the news. I sincerely pray nobody reading this has ever thought of ending their lives, but if you have, please talk to someone about it, they'll give you some perspective and give you a reason to live, even if it's only because they don't want to have to live without you. A regular of a pub I used to work in when I was at uni also killed himself. He was young, handsome, very funny and very friendly. There was a bar maid who was totally in love with him because he was so charismatic and yet he was obviously dealing with things we couldn't see.

The other thing that struck me was that I couldn't imagine (although I literally tried) the feeling of having nothing to live for. That feeling that there is nothing good about life until he finally woke up one day so tired of it, and unable to face another day of living, he wrote a note and jumped in front of a train. I thank God that suicide has never ever crossed my mind and that there has not been a single second of any single day that I haven't had plenty to live for.

In theory, my feelings about people who commit suicide aren't favourable. When faced with it though, I just feel overwhelmingly sad. It feels like such a waste of a life.

I pray for the people who love him and I pray he finds peace.

30 Things to do before you're 30 (MSN Lifestyle)

2007-08-23T12:15:00.000Z

I saw this on a website and thought I'd share it. I used to have a list of things I wanted to do before I was 30 but I've lost it somehow. At some point in the future, I'll try and compile another list of things I want to do before I'm 30. Any suggestions? What do you want to do before you hit a certain age? I'd be very interested to know!

1. Go Travelling
2. Get Something Published
3. Watch the following films: Goodfellas, Pulp Fiction, Scarface, The Star Wars Trilogy (don't bother with the new ones), Godfather parts I and II, Psycho, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Trainspotting, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Top Gun, American Pie, Gladiator, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Blade Runner, Kill Bill 1 & 2, City of God, The Deer Hunter, Se7en, Fight Club, Back to the Future, Alien and Aliens, Jaws, This Is Spinal Tap, Die Hard, Life of Brian, Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day, Ferris Beuller's Day Off, Life is Beautiful, The Breakfast Club, Grosse Pointe Blank, Stand By Me, Chinatown, The Great Escape, The Outsiders
4. Live in London
5. Learn a 2nd Language
6. Run a marathon
7. Drive the Pacific Coast Highway
8. Have Sex
9. Go to a music Festival
10. Try different foods
11. Get on the property ladder
12. Test yourself: Skydiving, abseiling, bungee jumping - never in a million years, you might think, but there are few better things for you than stepping out of your comfort zone and standing up to your fears. So whatever it is you think you can't do, we promise you'll feel proud of yourself after you've done it…
13. Visit Paris
14. Blow £500 in one night
15. Get a savings account.... and use it
16. Do something for charity
17. Get yourself on telly
18. Eat at a Michelin starred restaurant
19. Quit your job
20. Go to a live sporting event
21. Have a weekend in New York
22. Read these books: The Catcher in the Rye, 1984, Romeo and Juliet, the Harry Potter series, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, To Kill a Mockingbird, Brave New World, On the Road, Catch 22, Trainspotting, The Wasp Factory, Lord of the Flies, Fahrenheit 451, Animal Farm, Of Mice and Men, Great Expectations, Tess of the D’Urbevilles, Treasure Island, The Beach, Cloud Atlas, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Ulysses, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night time, Life of Pi, The Shining, The Handmaid’s Tale, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The Shining, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, A Suitable Boy
23. Own a convertible
24. Buy something really expensive: When was the last time you really treated yourself? So long as you can absorb the damage, go crazy and spend at least one month's wages on something you really, really want
25. Buy wine worth more than £50
26. Sign up to facebook
27. Record your family history
28. Sing Karaoke
29. Have a complete health check
30. Climb a mountain

I've done 12 of the 30 things on this list and they include singing karaoke (one time decently, all the other times dismally), the greatest two weeks of my life in New York and experiencing the palpable magic of Paris. I have no interest whatsoever in owning a convertible or being on TV but there are 11 things on the list that I'd really like to do before I hit 30. Top of that list are owning property, running a marathon and I have always wanted to do a road trip on the Pacific Coast Highway. And I'm determined to read all the books on the list, watch all of the films and do some extreme sports wah hey!

Summer is Finally on Its Way!

2007-08-15T12:05:00.001Z

We thought summer had finally come to England but it turns out we were very much mistaken. It’s been raining for the last two days. Funnily, I really don’t mind … because my summer is on its way.

The only season that rivals my love for Christmas is summer. I have spent the last 11 or so years trying to decide which time of year I like more and I'm still drawing a blank ... they're just too different … I have to say I love them both equally! Summer is just so much fun and I feel like I’m high on happy pills the entire time. I challenge anyone to be in a bad mood after looking out of your window in the morning to see the sun reflecting off everything it touches; trees, houses, cars - you just can't!

And has anyone noticed just how much more social summer is? There is always something going on. I could literally go out every night of the week if I wanted to. Everyone seems to be doing something for their birthday, people want to go for drinks after work or grab a bite to eat out at lunch, people have parties just because, friends that live in other parts of the world always pop into London at some point during the summer and bbqs and lazy picnics in the park are regular weekend activities. Oh and one of the hugest perks of the summer is that all the hot guys seem to come out of the woodwork, or whatever cave they've been hibernating in all winter, if hibernating means getting all buff for the purpose of being eye candy in the summer. Hey, all I'm trying to say is summer hones my appreciation for God's good work.

The highlight of summer for me though has to be going to Greece! We go every couple of years and as children, we spent almost every summer there so for me, it epitomises every thing that is ‘summer’ about summer. All my best summer memories feature Greece in some way and every time I smell that salty air which suggests that the sea is nearby, I think of Greece. Let me tell you what I love so much about Greece…

Well first of all, we have a lot of family over there that we never usually see and it’s great seeing them and catching up on the last couple of years. And an added bonus is the fact that they spoil us so much! They always invite us round to their houses for food - Mmmm food, I'll get to that in a bit - and they always get us presents and if they come to visit us, they bring a Tourta (decadent, fresh cake with cream/chocolate/fruit - usually all three) or Pagotinia (little ice creams, either little cones with ice cream or little balls that look like a collection of chocolates but are actually ice cream on the inside) from a Zaharoplastio (Patisserie). And since we're on the topic; Greek food is amazing! Seriously, all you foodies need to visit Greece and make sure you have Pastichio (baked layers of pasta and mince topped with béchamel sauce), Moussaka (baked layers of potato, fried aubergine and mince again topped with béchamel sauce), Kleftiko (the most tender lamb and potatoes cooked in a clay oven in which a fire is lit and let to burn for several hours then all the fire is removed and the meat is put in to be cooked by the hot coals only), Loucoumades (pastry balls fried like puff puff which are saturated with hot syrup) and Souvlaki which is our all time favourite. It's pork skewers barbequed and put in a bbq pitta bread (Greek pitta is different from other pitta) with tzatziki, Greek salad and some chips. It might sound like a Kebab or Shawarma but it's so different and so much better! Oh and the seafood; little fishes cooked whole (I have no idea what they're called), grilled squid stuffed with cheese, octopus ... mmmm. Even regular pizza is amazing in Greece.

We usually spend a couple of days in Athens shopping and visiting friends and family and then we go to Xilocastro for the rest of the time. Xilocastro is in Corinth and it's where my Yaya has an apartment right on the sea front. You come out of the apartment building, cross the road, there is a small forest which you walk through and then the sea is right there. It's not the most beautiful beach in the world and there are always a few days in summer where the sea is full of brown jellyfish who take all the fun out of swimming but I can't even begin to describe how it feels on those very windy evenings when the waves are so huge that swimming isn't an option so we sit on the beach and watch them instead. And I remember the time before, I was lying on the beach as the sun set, listening to Michelle Branch on my Discman loud enough that the music was the only thing on my mind but not too loud that I couldn't hear the sea and for that hour or so, I could 'see' what that saying 'the world is your oyster' meant. There is something about the sea that makes me realise just what a gift life is and what an amazing place the world can be. When I'm by the sea, it's like all the bad stuff in the world is non-existent.

Xilocastro is just so laid back. We wake up in the morning, sometimes to go and get breakfast, sometimes to go for a walk in the woods with Papou. We have breakfast then go to the beach, we swim, hang out with our friends and sunbathe till about 1:30pm then we go home, have a quick shower and have lunch with Yaya and Papou. Then we have an afternoon nap or read till 5:30ish, wake up, chill, then go back to the beach. We stay there till 8:30ish then come home, shower, get dressed and walk into town where all the restaurants, bars and clubs line the sea front and usually where we meet our friends. It’s also where the two outdoor cinemas are. It’s just so quaint watching a movie outdoors, with a 15 minutes intersession so that you can re-stock on food. We always do this walk, even if we're not going to eat out or go to a bar; it's just what we do, what we've always done. We usually get home after midnight, or early the next morning if we go clubbing, play cards (my brother turns into a bit of a card shark in Greece), chat then go to bed and wake up the next day to do it all again. It's just … bliss.

So, I'm not trying to make you jealous or anything but I'm going away in three weeks with my brother and Gavity. Onada was supposed to come to but I don't think she'll make it. It’s only for 10 days but I can’t wait, my summer is finally on its way!

I think I'm in Love again ...

2007-08-07T09:34:00.000Z

... WITH R&B! Ha ha gottcha! Sorry no juicy goss of that sort today.

My music taste is pretty eclectic, I love everything from pure unadulterated Pop (Especially boy bands - The Backstreet boys, N Sync, Blue) to Hip-Hop (I'm a huge Eminem fan). If you asked me if I liked Country, my first instinct would be to say no and yet I love Keith Urban. I like some dance, especially the stuff that reworks classic songs like Bryan Adam's 'Heaven' and I love, love, love alternative/rock/indie music; Linkin Park, Michelle Branch, Lifehouse, Evanescence, Snow Patrol, Keane, Damien Rice ... I could go on forever. But my R&B was my first music love and good R&B will usually trump the others.

All of my favourite teen memories were played out against a backdrop of my favourite R&B songs. I think the first tape of my own I ever owned (that wasn't stolen from my father's extensive but somewhat outdated music collection) was the Boyz II Men album that some friends of mine in Lagos copied for me. I loved four songs on that album; 'I'll Make Love to You', 'On Bended Knee’ and 'Yesterday'. I still love every single one of those songs but my favourite then and now has to be 'Water Runs Dry'.

Toni Braxton and Tevin Campbell were favourites while I was in boarding school in JSS 2 and 3, and I thought all the older girls were so cool when they tied bandanas round their heads back to front the way Aaliyah did. I loved Shai and 3T, Michael Jackson and Jodeici, Montell Jordan and After 7. When we moved to Lagos and I started going to ISL, I remember getting ready for school every morning to Mariah Carey's 'Daydreams' album. Wow, there were so many amazing songs on that album - Underneath the stars, Melt away, Always be my baby, Open arms and One sweet day with Boyz II Men. I had one of those 'I'm really getting old' moments when I was in a car with my younger cousins and this album came on and they had never heard any of the songs. Cue a really long rant (by me) about ‘how they totally missed out on Mariah's best stuff and how they don't make R&B like they used to’ and two very bored cousins.

You know what? I really do believe that though. I think all the best stuff has already been done. Don't get me wrong, there are some good songs around these days but not many AMAZING songs. You know, the kind of songs that you love from the very first time you hear them, the kind that you don't have to let grow on you because they almost jump out of the album at you. The kind of song that against all self restraint, you put on repeat till you're absolutely sick of it. The kind of song that had you sitting in front of MTV for hours on end (back in the day when we didn't have youtube) so that you could watch the video which you always hated because it was never what you imagined it to be, and didn’t do the song any justice in your opinion. The kind of song that literally gives you goose bumps from listening to it. The kind of song that brings the memories flooding back with every note and lyric. Songs like Allure's 'All cried out' and more or less everything on the 'Enter the Dru' and '8701' albums, Nelly & Kelly's 'Dilemma' and Neyo's 'Sexy Love'. In the last few years, these songs have been few and far between.

A few weeks ago, a friend who has taken it upon himself to keep me updated as to what's going on in the world of music and truly believes that if it weren't for him, I'd still be listening to the golden oldies, made me a CD and for the first time in a while ... I found myself listening to a few songs over and over again. I'm loving Joe's 'Life of the Party' and 'It's me' and I hear the rest of his recent album is pretty good too. I also love Neyo's 'Make it work', 'Go on girl' and 'Do you'.

I'm remembering what I loved so much about R&B, and I'm loving the process!

BFF

2007-07-25T12:07:00.000Z

You’re in every one of my favourite childhood memories
I can see your face clearly, right there, next to mine
Come to think of it, you were also there during my no-so-favourite times
Like the time when my mum shouted at us for taking all my clothes to school and giving them away
Or your sixth birthday when you had that party and we locked ourselves in your bedroom and refused to play with the other kids
Wow, we really were brats sometimes
Do you remember when you told your parents you were coming to my house
And I told my parents I was going to yours
And we both went to Ayo’s house because her parents would let us go to parties and stay out as late as we wanted?
And somehow, despite our meticulous planning, we got caught and your dad came to pick us up
I swear he thought it was my fault and I couldn’t look him in the face for months after.

I told you absolutely everything of any importance that happened to me
When my parents fought, when I fought with them
I wasn’t scared to tell you I was going out with Ali even though I knew you didn’t like him.
And you didn’t even gloat, not even for one moment when he dumped me for the most popular girl in school
I never ever resented the fact that all the boys liked you, and all the girls wanted to be friends with you
And you were so proud of me for always coming first in class despite never really trying
There was that brief phase in our second year of secondary school when we both made other friends and spent less and less time together
But that all ended when I told you that Iko and I were going out. You’d always said we were meant to be together
Just like that, we were once more a part of each other’s lives and it’s stayed the same since

I moved to England and you moved to the States and yet we wrote each other at least once a week
Do you remember when we started keeping diaries and we’d exchange them every few months so that we knew every detail of each other’s lives?
And later when I caught up to your computer literacy skills, we emailed all the time Nothing was too mundane to share with the other
Different lives, new friends, profound experiences, an ocean between us and still we remained so close
Even though we never got to share a lot of firsts together, you heard all of mine as soon as they happened.

I couldn’t be happier for myself than I am for you when something good happens to you
The words ‘I told you so’ have never ever left your mouth even though you have had plenty of opportunity to say them
I’ve prayed that you would have things that even I didn’t have. I wanted them for you more than I did for me
You’ve supported me through every decision I’ve ever made. Your one question always was ‘is this what you really want?’ Once I uttered the magic word, ‘yes’ then you were as loyal to my dreams as you were to yours.
I’ve cried every time you’ve cried
You celebrate everything that is good about me, and are always there to remind me when I’m in danger of forgetting

We’re still an ocean apart but you’ll always be my best friend
And I know I’m yours
I’ve recently found the love of my life, and you’ve got yours, as well as three little ones
But I maintain that you’re my soul mate
How lucky I am to have found you so young and to have shared so much with you

A Bit of This and That ...

2007-07-13T17:18:00.000Z

I've got so much stuff going on in my head but I just can't write! I start writing and then lose steam halfway through, or I think of something that I desperately want to get down on paper, I start writing it down and suddenly it just seems so trivial and not worth actually expressing.

I've been in a weird mood lately, kind of like a funk and it's strange because I'm not normally like this but I guess a lot of stuff is getting to me all at the same time, mainly friends and work. So here's the thing about me, I have A LOT of flaws but I'm not at all selfish and I'm not at all self absorbed. Ironically, or maybe it's just the laws of attraction, my friends tend to be pretty selfish and especially self absorbed and it can be so exhausting at times. Some of them know it and I'm comfortable enough with them that I can bring it to their attention if they do something that gets to me, but recently, an old friend has come back into my life, one who can be extremely lovely but is also pretty selfish and remarkably self absorbed. My dilemma with her is 'do I give her a chance, put up with the stuff that bothers me because on the whole she's a nice girl? Or do I nip this re-newed friendship in the bud knowing that chances are, we won’t be friends this time next year because at some point, I became so exasperated with her selfishness that I ended our friendship. Surely it'll be easier for both of us if we stop getting closer now, and just become 'hi' ... 'hi' friends?

On a more upbeat note, I have met, seen and hung out with a lot of fellow bloggers and commentators recently! Favoured Girl, Chica Africana and I are now facebook friends. I discovered that Biodun and I went to school together and she's hidden it from me this entire time. T.Minx, LB, Last King of Scotland, Low, Fine Boy, commentator Dimples and I were all at Olawunmi's 30th Birthday party which was so much fun. And then Low, Noni and I went to get Nigerian food the following day ... the best pounded yam and Okro soup I have ever eaten! And the meat was so well cooked, I could even cut the pomo and shaki with a fork and knife.

I've been feeling like I need to get away from everything for a while but unfortunately my next holiday isn't till September when I go to Greece for 10 days with Noni and Onada, if she gets her act together and applies for a visa. Oh that reminds me, I need to send her an invitation letter. If I could go anywhere now, it'd be a toss up between Hawaii and Manhattan. Actually, the way I'm feeling now, it would have to be Hawaii ... sea, sun and surf lessons complete cute surf instructor would definitely lift my mood ;p

Finally .... Okay, don't make a big deal out of this you guys, but for the first time in a really long time, I think maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to have someone ... like a boyfriend. Now don't get excited, I'm not going to go out looking for one, but lets just say I'm open to the possibility.

I promise I'll try and blog properly next week.

Have a great weekend!!

... I'll be right back

2007-07-10T12:40:00.000Z

Hey, I haven't gone awol like some bloggers I can mention ... I just haven't written in a while but I will soon, I promise!

In the meantime, check out my lovely cousin's blog - http://cinnamonqueen78.blogspot.com/
She is an amazing writer and also pretty damn good photographer; to be honest if we weren't family, I might just have disowned her by now because she's just too talented, I'm worried she makes me look bad! Lol.

2007-06-28T17:17:00.000Z

I feel like my last few posts have been kind of intense so I'm going to lighten the mood …

Sex and an Oh So Fabulous City!

WOW! I'm very surprised it's taken me so long to write about the most amazing show in the history of television ... ever!

I was doing my A-levels when Sex and the City began and a friend of mine; Michelle was obsessed with it but nothing she said managed to convince me it was any good, and the one embarrassing episode (embarrassing because I watched in with my mum and spent the whole 25 or so minutes squirming) I caught did nothing to change my mind.

Fast forward three years, I was in my second year of university, and had just moved into a house with three girls. One of them was given the first two series' on video as well as a load of 'Friends' videos and believe me when I say that for the next two years, whenever one of us was in the lounge, 'SATC' or 'Friends' would be on the TV. And when the new series started and they moved the day it showed to Wednesday, we stopped going out on Wednesday nights even though that was our favourite night of the week to go out! I think it's fair to say I've watched every single episode at least 20 times and yet, I still find them just as funny and as interesting as ever! At least once a year, I get out my SATC DVDs and start from the very first episode, and watch them all through till the very end.

Why do I love SATC so much? Hmmm, Carrie's fabulous outfits are just one of the reasons. Her outfits were very often amazing and sometimes downright cringe-worthy but every single thing that woman wore was a conversation piece! I haven't even got the time to go into my love affair with most of the dresses she wore in the final season but let us just say there are very few things I wouldn't do for a lot of her clothes and I think it's fair to say there is nothing Noni wouldn't do for her shoes! I also loved Charlotte's wardrobe and she's definitely been an influence on my fascination with 50s style dresses.

Ultimately though, it's not the great outfits that made this show the hit that it was; it was the fabulous characters. Funnily enough, despite my fascination with her style, Carrie was actually my least favourite character. She was way too 'me, me, me'. My absolute favourite character has to be Samantha. I just adore her chutzpah. Samantha knew who she was, what she liked and didn't give a flying frick what anybody thought about her. In fact, I think she's the only person I've ever known of, real or fictional, that has managed to achieve this feat. While I love Samantha though, I'm probably a mix of Miranda and Charlotte. Deduce from that what you want.

And though part of the reason I love the show so much is for its highly entertaining content, I think I have learned a lot from the show and I genuinely feel that I'm a better person for having watched it ... Really! Before SATC, it was unthinkable that women would choose to be single in their thirties (and forties, in Samantha's case) and have such a fabulously fun time doing it. And Berger telling Miranda (about a guy that she went on a date with and who never called her) that 'he's just not that into you' transformed the way I think about guys and I love the fact that all the girls end up with the good guy in the end. Who can forget Charlotte's husband Harry who is nothing like the guy she envisioned she'd end up marrying and the way he turns out to be the most loving, supportive husband a girl could wish for. And Steve; Miranda's long suffering boyfriend turned husband who manages to take the girl out of the city (to Brooklyn) and puts up with her become while she becomes an amazing mother, wife and person in general. And gorgeous Smith, the man who manages to get Samantha to finally settle down with one man! The only person who I wasn't happy with was Big. As far as I'm concerned, he messed Carrie about way too much; she should never have ended up with him. Plus, I loved Aidan and think he's the one she should have ended up with!

I challenge you to find someone who was more ecstatic than me when the movie finally got the go ahead! It might be a couple of years till it hits the big screen but Noni and I have already made a date to dress up to the nines and go and watch it on the very first day of release. Then go for dinner after and spend the next several hours (probably days, if we're being honest) dissecting every outfit and storyline! Till then, please keep me entertained and tell me your favourite SATC character is? Or who are you are most like ... and why?

Confessions of a man who has cheated on his wife

2007-06-21T19:30:00.000Z

Someone sent me an e-mail reply to my post on Emotional Infidelity vs. Actual Cheating. I thought it was interesting …

Hi Vickii,

I am responding via email to this blog because it is late and I want you to read it. I was asked the same question when I was having an affair with L. L knew I was married and we fooled around a couple of times. L being very thoughtful as usual said she would rather have actual cheating because there is no depth to it. I totally agree with her. I have been with other women and it was purely physical, for all I care she could have been a Barbie doll. No questions asked, no conversation, came into my apartment, bent over, I was done and she left (3 mins tops). Pardon me if this is graphic or offensive. I am trying to convey how detached I was, I just simply wanted to unload one.

I have asked my self why men cheat. Consider Halley berry’s ex; you can have the crown jewels at home but still go out for junk. There are so many reasons. Believe me when I say I really love my wife and family and will give any thing to guarantee their happiness. I just feel my extra stuff does not come in the way, or hope the wife turns a blind eye. I am not one of those guys that would flaunt it in her face. It is done with total discretion. However I know it is still wrong.

There is no excuse for it, but Bill Clinton, JFK, Bill Cosby, Frank Sinatra, Benjamin Franklin, Theodore Roosevelt all cheated and the list goes on and on. I have heard statements like ‘Men can separate love from sex’, ‘Men cuddle to have sex and women have sex because they want to cuddle’, it just seems as if the act is merely a physical release sometimes, and that is why we can look the wife straight in the eye and say "But I did not love her".

When you combine Emotional Infidelity with actual cheating, that is a dangerous cocktail because you now have both the physical and emotional attachment to that person. You talk about every little thing with her, which type of detergent does she recommend, mundane stuff that is worthy of a G8 summit. You don’t just get up and go, and you hold her, try out every possible position you can imagine, phone sex becomes a regular thing when you can’t see her and when you miss her call, you dial like a mad man.

Why can’t sex with the wife be like this? Is it because you are both inundated with balancing family life and somewhere between ballet and swimming lessons for the kids and your careers, you just take her for granted? You only have sex when you want to sleep quickly, it become your valium. I don’t know.

Anyway I hope this does not ruin your opinion about men in general, I believe there is such a thing as dignity even when it comes to having an affair.

Hello anonymous,

Thanks a lot for your email; it was interesting to read your perspective on things.I would normally be quick to criticise your behaviour because quite honestly, I feel very strongly about men that cheat but I think the fact that you've written in such a matter of fact manner and admitted that you know it is wrong, renders whatever I would say redundant.

Can I ask you a couple of questions? First of all, I feel that you kind of copped out in the end when you say you don't know why men cheat. Why do you cheat?I assume you've cheated a few times over the course of your marriage. You say you hope it doesn't get in the way of your relationship or that your wife turns a blind eye. So what would happen if a time came when it did get in the way of your relationship or your wife stopped turning a blind eye? Would that make you stop?

I think my view of men has become quite realistic in that I believe most men cheat, however this will not stop me believing that the person I end up with never cheat on me, and it won't change the fact that the way I feel at the moment, I would end my marriage if he did.

Would you mind if I put your e-mail and your response (if you respond) on my blog? If you do mind, I won't ... just let me know.

Vickii,

Go ahead, by the way what's the URL to your blog again? I would like to read more.

Men will cheat for a variety of reasons; from sexual incompatibility, lack of communication, lack of oral sex hmm ... I don’t know, maybe just because we can do it? Please note that this has nothing to do with beauty or finesse. In a man's physique we are able to compartmentalize stuff; we can separate sex, love and beauty. Whereas for most women it’s a package, the whole thing is bundled into one. "I can't sleep with him if I don't love him"; "He's not fine". These are statements you hear from women. The perfect wife for most men is a good cook, a good hostess and a whore in bed. Sometimes you just feel like you want something different. After making love to the wife for so long, it’s almost like masturbating (doing it your self). And again I repeat it has nothing to do with love, it’s just a hit. I don't know about women but I have met someone for the first time and fantasise about F...ing them. Men think about this every 3 minutes. With me, I truly enjoy the company of women (Bill Clinton's excuse in 1998), and that might be another reason. If you have met anyone and you enjoy spending time with them, it is very easy to end up in bed with the person. Flip to genetics and I am sure there is a gene responsible for this male behavior because that is one distinctive factor between the sexes.

It’s unlikely that what I do will get in the way because firstly I am not out there looking for women. I am pretty busy and focused on spending quality time with my family. Talk about Soccer dad for someone who does not play any sports.I make sure we eat dinner together every night so we can talk about what going on in our lives. So if I would be cheating the woman has to understand that I don't have a lot of time. However if am ever caught I might deny it just like Bill Clinton and see how far I can get away with it.

I don't want to sound sexiest, but let’s flip the script on you. Let us say your man cheated (just a little bit), say a one night stand. Would you leave him? I would advise you not to. Why? When you leave, are you going into the convent or will you be out there dating again? You were once settled with a home and children, a safe haven. Now you have to go back to the dating scene. How many men will you sleep with before you find someone you will marry again? Note that this new guy you are about to marry will also have his own baggage. If you re-marry, are you prepared to be a step mum to the 15 year old girl who constantly yells ‘You are not my Mummy; you’re just sleeping with my Dad’? Or is it the 14 year boy who keeps harassing your little 5 year old? Oh by the way I forgot all the baby mama drama from your step-kid’s mother when she calls your house and says, "Give the phone to x".

At one time in your life the boundaries were clearly drawn and everything was simple; there was one daddy and one mummy which was very easy for the kids to digest and now you have 2 new dads and 2 mums. Think about this very well.

There are ways to keep your man in check, but if he's going to stray, he will as long as it’s done with discretion. Most men just like to feel we are in control; we really don't have to be at the wheel, so think twice.

Oh by the way I have to go and read ‘Alice in Wonderland’ to my daughter for the 3rd time this week, its bed time here.

I am sorry for lack of punctuation.

Am I a Bad Feminist because I like Hip Hop?

2007-06-11T16:05:00.000Z

I am a feminist. An all out, through and through, card-carrying feminist. I'll do a post sometime about what being a feminist means to me but I think most people that know me would definitely agree that I'm quick to adopt a feminist stance in conversations. I also love hip hop music, or at least some hip hop. Sometimes though, I find myself singing along to some song, when slowly the lyrics sink in and I realise that what I'm singing goes against everything I believe in, and often, it's songs I really love. Why does hip hop have to be so ... so ... I'm leaning towards using the word ‘misogynistic’ but I don't think that's accurate. Most rappers don't hate women, it's more that they tend to put them in a tiny box; basically, in hip hop, women are hos, possessions, sex objects, gold diggers; basically a whole lot of unfavourable nouns. You'd think Snoop and Biggy never came across smart, intelligent, independent women. In fact, speaking of Snoop, listen to these words straight from the horse's (so to speak) mouth:

“[Rappers] are not talking about no collegiate basketball girls who have made it to the next level in education and sports. We’re talking about ho’s that’s in the ‘hood that ain’t doing sh–, that’s trying to get a n—a for his money. These are two separate things."

Let's say Snoop has a point - he doesn't, but for the sake of being fair, let's just say he does - If he dislikes those kinds of girls so much, why doesn't he stop rapping about them or at the very least stop sleeping with them and surrounding himself with girls just like them? And has he never met a female lawyer, entrepreneur manager, publicist? Has he never met a non ho-ey woman? Unless he lives in a box, the answer to those questions is yes. So why doesn't he rap about them instead?

To be fair though, if I don't like it, I don't have to listen to it. But you see, therein lies my dilemma. I love a lot of songs that the feminist in me is very opposed to. Let's take 'Nasty Girl' by Biggy and 112. There are few songs guaranteed to get me on the dance floor more than this song but when I first heard it, I couldn't help cringing every time I heard the words 'All my ladies if you feel me grab your titties for B.I.G'. Seriously. Why? And the rest of the lyrics of the song aren't much better either. I'm not saying don't rap about sex, a lot of R&B is about sex, they've just mastered the art of making it ... tasteful, for want of a better word. It's less crude, slightly more subtle and a whole lot less insulting.

There are way too many songs which I personally take offence to but the one that really gets to me at the moment, the song that was the inspiration for this post and (unfortunately) a song I quite like is the 'I'm a Flirt' remix by R.Kelly, T.I and T-Pain. For anyone who hasn't heard it, it's basically R.Kelly saying he is a flirt and warning guys everywhere that if he meets/sees their girlfriends, he's going to flirt with them, and the R.Kelly chat up lines are obviously so persuasive that the guy is probably going to leave without his girlfriend. In his own words, the 'moral of the story is cuff yo bitch, cuz hey I'm black, handsome, I sing plus I'm rich (and I'm a flirt).’

This I take huge offence to. He's not even differentiating between different kinds of women, he's basically assuming that if I was in a club with my boyfriend and he was there, I'd be like 'oooh, oooh, baby, it's R.Kelly, it's R.Kelly. Let's go over and talk to him pleeaaassse' and then if he decided to make my night by sleazing on me, I'd go all giggly, toss my hair, turn to boyfriend and say 'don't wait around for me hunny bun, Robert here is going to give me a ride home'. Puhleeze! Even just writing that, I've had to revert to some bimbo stereotype because I honestly can't imagine that he's talking about any of the sort of women I know.

So to recap, I like hip hop but I find a lot of the lyrics insulting. I'm admitting that I'm aware of the double standard so please if I happen to bump into any of you out one fine night/morning, and I happen to be dancing to 'Smack that', please don't tap me on the shoulder and say 'oh, didn't you say in that post....' I'm not saying there aren't women out there who even I have occasionally used the words 'bitch' or 'gold digger' to refer to, I'm simply saying they're not the only women in the world and I'm pretty they aren't the only women most hip hop artists come in contact with so why are they the only ones we hear about?

I want to point out that my hip hop taste is pretty commercial and also not the most extensive, so if this doesn't apply to all hip hop artists, I'm more than happy to hear about the exceptions!

2007-05-23T13:10:00.000Z

My Papou

Papou means 'granddad' in Greek. This is a pretty emotional post for me and I guess I'm writing it just so I can express just how I feel about him, even if he won't read it. Papou is technically my step-granddad. My mum's dad died when she was at university so I never met him. My parents moved to Kaduna after they got married and that's where I was born. My Yaya (grandmother) spent a lot of time in Nigeria because that's where her daughter and granddaughter were and it was around this time my dad introduced her to Spyros (Papou), a Greek Cypriot who had spent most of his adult life in Nigeria. They hit it off and have been together ever since.

Papou came from a good family in Cyprus but in those days, only children that demonstrated great academic potential were sent to university and in his family, that person was his brother. Long story short, unsure of what to do with his future, he accepted a job to go and work in Nigeria. I think he was about 18. And he stayed there for the next 35 or so years. I wish I had listened more closely when he would tell us all about his experiences but I guess I just thought we would always be able to hear them again. Now he doesn't remember.

He has always says he spent the best years of his life in Nigeria and reminisces about the hunting, and the parties, the women and the friends. We have so many amazing memories with him and Yaya. They probably feature in all our defining childhood memories because we spent most of our holidays with them and any child will tell you that the school holidays are the absolute best times of childhood. I love Zaria because they lived there, and I love fishing because Papou would take us fishing, I love Xilocastro (where my grandmum has her beach home in Greece) because it's where I go walking with Papou and where I accompany them to the Laiki Agora (the market) to buy the fruit and veg for the week. It is where he swims really far out to sea that I start to follow and then get scared and swim furiously back out while trying to figure out how I'll save him if a shark appears. Our garden in Kaduna looked forward to his visits because he'd plant entire crops that I'd never heard of - Radishes for example - and tend to the crop he'd planted on his last visit. He was such an avid gardener. In fact, when he 'retired' in Nigeria, he became the manager of a huge farm halfway between Kaduna and Zaria where we'd go and visit him in his office and spend the day wandering around the farm, exploring the dams and playing around in his Range Rover; you know, one of the old fashioned ones where the back was open and only covered by a canvas sheet. I used to love riding in the back of that truck.

About four years ago, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and after the initial rapid deterioration of his memory, it has more or less stabilised now but he still forgets so much. For a week up until Kitty's wedding, whenever anyone mentioned the wedding, he would ask, 'Wedding, what wedding? Who is getting married?' And my mother, who believes that it is better to make him use his memory rather than give him the answers, would reply, 'you tell us, who is getting married?’ Funnily, he would always say Gavin's name first and only after more prodding would he remember that Gavin was marrying our Kitty. Then he'd complain that no one had told him about the wedding and no one tells him anything anymore. A week after the wedding, he had forgotten all about it and again the questions started 'what wedding?' It's been really sad to see the change in him, because where he was once a vibrant, very outdoorsy man who loved to read, he is now content to sit quietly and listen to what is going on around him.

But the changes haven't been all bad. He has really mellowed and is just the sweetest man you could ever have the opportunity to meet. He's always eager to please everyone and make everyone feel at home. He is simply amazing! And our relationship hasn't changed. I have a well documented sweet tooth which Yaya has always been very happy to cater to it. Papou also has a sweet tooth and has spent a lifetime teasing me. Yaya makes the best ice cream in the world (I'm not lying, Ben & Jerry's has nothing on her!) and she would make it whenever we came to visit her as children. Papou would tell me that when we went to bed, he would wake up and eat all the ice cream. With a furrowed brow and worry written all over my face, I'd go and confide in Yaya and ask her to please keep an eye on him in the night. Whenever we see each other or talk now, I say that my Yaya has made me Pasta Flora (a Greek pastry and his favourite) but that I'm not sharing it with him. And he'll counter by saying that since his wife made it, it belonged to him and he definitely wouldn’t be giving me any. Back and forth we go like that until one of us says 'Ori o da'. I have no idea how you spell it and even exactly what it means, I just know it's a Yoruba insult. Then the other will reply 'Ori o fo' and so we'll make our way through the 'Ori o' insults and end with 'Oloshi' then we'll laugh and one of us will report the other to my mum or Yaya. I love that even though he's forgotten so much, he still remembers our banter.

I really miss who he used to be but I love who he has become even more.

My Best Friend's Wedding Update

2007-05-14T09:01:00.000Z

The wedding was amazing ... My lovely cousins Suby and Sinem were there with their cameras snapping away and here are some of their photos on http://suby.shutterchance.com/

I'll post a couple of mine at some point but they're not half as good as Suby and Sin's!

Just like I predicted, I cried at the registry on Friday - they got married in a castle in Shrewsbury and because they do not attend the local church, they couldn't legally get married there, they could only have a blessing. My relatives from Greece, my immediate family and a couple of her friends were at the registry and when we were all asked to stand up as they walked in, I welled up a bit but I managed to get a grip on myself. They said their vows and it was pretty funny at times because they all had to say my sisters name about three times during the ceremony; she has a Greek middle name, and a Nigerian middle name and surname and it is a bit of a mouthful and Gavin struggled with it every time so we all laughed. Then at the end, they started playing that song that they play at a lot of weddings when the bride walks down the aisle; the classical track that Coolio sampled on 'C U when you get there'. If anyone knows what it is called please tell me because I can't remember for the life of me what it is called. Anyway, that just got me started again and I was discreetly dabbing the tears from my eyes when my aunt seating next to me started sniffing too. Then Kitty's friends sitting in front of me heard us sniffing, looked round, and then went 'awww, are you okay?'. That got the tears flowing even more and everyone turned around to look at us ... Gavity (my celeb moniker for them as a couple) even laughed at me. Then the next morning, I was telling Kitty about my dad's friend who was coming up from London. He had decided to leave London at 6:30 and he was telling us that he kept waking up during the night so that he wouldn't oversleep. I was telling her just so she would know how much it meant to a lot of people that they were invited to be a part of her day and the thought of how far people had come overwhelmed me and I started tearing up again to cries of 'Not again Vickii!' from Kitty and the other bridesmaids.

I was fine on the saturday though. But then after all her make up and hair, as we walked down the stairs to go to the church, Kitty suddenly welled up and she was waving her hand in front of her eyes so that she wouldn't cry. You'll all be glad to know that I saved the moment though by saying 'boo boo boo' (don't ask, I just wanted her to stop crying so she would get to the church on time)!

It was such a beautiful ceremony and such a fun day! Honestly I've never seen all my aunts and uncles dance like they did in the night, some of them have some moves! And Gavity had an amazing time and were very happy by how it all turned out ... it was a beautiful wedding!

My Best Friend's Wedding

2007-05-09T13:10:00.000Z

My gorgeous younger sister is getting married this Saturday! (Don't you dare tell her I called her gorgeous ... I'll deny it!). On the day of their wedding, her and Gavin would have been together for 2 years and she turns 24 a couple of weeks after the day. People always mention how young she is to be getting married but Kitty has always wanted to get married young. We want a lot of the same things in life; to travel, a career we love, but while I've always wanted to do certain things before I settle down, she has always maintained that she wants to share all the most important and exciting events in her life with someone else. So to me, she isn't too young, she has been ready for a while. And Gavin is amazing! My sister can be stubborn and challenging at times, and years ago I had predicted that she would (or should) end up with someone just like Gavin and I honestly can't think of anyone I would rather marry my sister than him.

Her name is actually Christiana but when we were children, we couldn't pronounce each other's names so my parents shortened them to Vickii and Kitty. Over the following years, she was called everything from Kitty Kitty bang bang (because she always seemed to be breaking something or getting into trouble) or Kitty Kat Copy Cat (because she liked to do everything I did). Our relationship has evolved rather interestingly over the years. When we were younger and we both used to live at home, we were always arguing, then I went away to university and we got along much better because we didn't live together. She came to the same university as me and that was great because we lived near each other but not together, so we would hang out a lot, go out together on Friday nights and generally enjoy each other's company but not annoy each other. I'd say it's more or less the same now, we get along really well but when we go on holiday together, it only takes a few days before we argue about something. I think it's her but she'd probably say it was my fault! I can have more fun with her than anyone else and we're very similar in a lot of ways but she can wind me up like no one else can in literally a matter of seconds, I think she's got it down to an art by now. Those times, I wonder how we're related because all I can see is the differences between us. However Kitty can be so generous, it’s actually unbelievable. She’ll give away something of great value if she thinks you need it without so much as batting an eye. And she will insist you take it. She can be a much better woman than me.

We always laugh about the fact that people can't seem to tell us apart. People that know us both will tell you we look nothing like each other, we have completely different features and apart from the colour of our skin, I can't think of much that we have in common physically. But the number of times people have asked if we are twins is unbelievable. At school, people would sing the theme tune from the TV show 'Sister Sister' when we were walking together and at university, someone would come up to one of us and start having an in depth conversation while we'd be racking our brains trying to figure out on which alcohol fuelled night we'd met them. Then the person would say 'our name' and then we'd realise that they thought I was Christiana or that she was me. And this has happened several times! Honestly, we really don't look alike! She threatens to cut my hair off in the middle of the night because it's always been longer than hers and I've always begrudged her amazing figure, and I don't begrudge it because its amazing but because my sister eats more than anyone you will ever meet (She lived with four boys and they used to call her 'serves four' because she could out-eat all of them) and does little exercise and yet she looks like she should be modelling lingerie.

I'm so excited about the wedding in the way that you can only be when someone that means the world to you gets married. I cried when she told me she was engaged and I guarantee I'll shed a few tears all over my pretty bridesmaid dress at the wedding. I don't know if she'll ever read this but Kitty I love you so much and I can't tell you how happy I am that you've found someone so perfect for you to spend the rest of your life with. I pray you'll be truly happy! I can't wait for the wedding and you really need to re-think that 5 year hiatus before giving me nieces and nephews.

Have a great weekend everyone because I will, and if you guys are really good, I might post up a couple of pictures from the wedding.

2007-04-30T17:34:00.000Z

Emotional Infidelity vs. Actual Cheating

Sticking with the topic of infidelity since it's obviously such a controversial one, I have an interesting conundrum for you. Which is worse, emotional infidelity or actual cheating?

We all know what actual cheating is - sleeping with someone else, kissing, basically crossing whatever physical boundaries a couple have agreed in their relationship. Just so we're all on the same page as to what constitutes emotional infidelity, let me give you a little scenario. Ross and Rachel (sorry, those are the first names that came to mind) have been together about three years and there's no doubt for either of them that they're with the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. Rachel has just had a promotion at work so she's working late and working weekends and when she's not working so hard, she's so exhausted that she either wants to stay at home and sleep or when she's with Ross, she's not much company. This has been going on for about a month and a half.

The company Ross works for is also going through some major changes and there's a lot of pressure on all the employees. One day after work, a bunch of them go to the pub and Ross spends a lot of time talking to a colleague called Hannah. He's always thought she was a nice woman but they'd never really spent any time together. For whatever reason, tonight they get talking and they spend the whole night venting their frustrations about the company and making fun of their colleagues. Over the next couple of weeks, they start going for lunch together and go out occasionally after work with other co-workers. They're always IMing at work, they have in jokes and soon they're sharing the details of their personal lives with each other. They cheer each other up after a particularly hard day at work and they can tell what the other is thinking simply by looking at their face. Rachel's work hours are becoming slightly more normal and she and Ross are spending more time together but when Ross's beloved Chelsea loses a game, the first person he thinks to tell is Hannah, not Rachel. And it's Hannah's opinion he asks for when he's thinking of changing his mortgage provider, and it's her he spends hours venting to when his parents decide to separate after 35 years of marriage. They're both attractive people so it's only a matter of time before they start to fancy each other and Ross starts to wonder if he's with the wrong person. In this particular scenario, nothing ever happens between them.

Is that worse than if Ross had gotten drunk one night and kissed/slept with his ex girlfriend/co-worker/random woman?

For me, emotional infidelity would be much more hurtful than if he had slept with someone else. Partly because I know that realistically at some point (in fact, several points) in a relationship, both parties will be attracted to other people, it's inevitable, people don't stop being attractive just because you're in love. But I believe that the things that would set me apart from the other women are our shared experiences, his feelings for me as a person and the relationship we've built. I guess I'm naive enough to believe that as long as he values all of those things, then I'll always be set apart from other women and it is this that will stop him from cheating on me. That's why it would hurt me so much more to know that he's shared newer, more fun experiences with someone else, and he finds her funnier or smarter or sweeter than me, and he feels something for her that is based on much deeper than just physical. Now here's the conundrum. Even though that would hurt me more, I'd forgive emotional infidelity and if he wanted to work on our relationship then I'd do everything in my power to work on it and make it right again. But I wouldn't forgive physical infidelity even though in some ways, it's the lesser of two evils for me. Does that make sense?

I think it’s because there is an innocence about emotional infidelity. It’s often one of those situations that you’re in before you even realise it. While as far as I’m concerned, whichever way I look at it, if a guy cheated on me, it means he put his needs before my feelings.

What do you guys think? Which would you find harder to forgive? Why?

2007-04-19T12:14:00.000Z

She is Loving Him Still

Trying to push the past away
Still waiting for the lights to change
She tries, tries for the sake of their pride, pride
Learning to barely feel the pain
Thicker the skin the less the strain
And though it's really hurting
She ain’t breaking, breaking, breaking
Coz she's loving him still, after all this time

Now he knows his weakness shows
Selfish soul, never changing
That's fine, because she's loving him still
After all this time

(Lyrics from 'After All this Time' - Simon Webbe)

Okay so I guess I should confess right about now that I was a fan of the boy band 'Blue'. But this post isn't about me confessing to all the pop music I love - Backstreet Boys 4 Eva! Okay on a serious note, I'm not into the solo stuff from the ‘Blue’ boys but I've loved this song since the first time I heard it. And the lyrics really challenged a deep seated belief I've always held.

See, I've always thought (rightly or wrongly) that women who stayed with men that cheated on them were either stupid or dumb or both. The song isn't about a guy who cheats, at least not explicitly. It was written about Simon's grandmother and it's about a woman who has been through a lot with her husband. He's selfish and has hurt her time and time again over the years and yet she stays with him. More importantly though, she continues to love him.

I had heard the song a few times before the lyrics sunk in and got me thinking. I have heard so many explanations and justifications for why women stay with cheating men but they had never changed my feelings about the women. In my mind, they just aren't strong enough to change their situation. I have to admit that this song doesn't make me stray from my assertion that the second I know a guy is cheating on me, I'm out the door. But it did make me think that maybe these women aren't weak and stupid like I first thought. After all, the only difference between relationships that last forever and those that don't is that some people refuse to let their marriages fail. Some people take their vows so seriously that they'll fight to keep them till the very end. How can that be weak? These people are strong ... warriors. In the same way, women who know that their husbands are having/have had affairs, and choose to put up with the humiliation, and insecurity, and hurt because they when they said 'till death do us part', they meant it, deserve my admiration not my contempt and pity. Because they're stronger and more unselfish than I'll ever be in this respect.

PS: I think it’s fair to say some people shouldn’t have ever gotten together in the first place and in that case, I think it’s actually more admirable for them to acknowledge the fact and cut their losses.

Another PS: I'm not talking about the women who turn a blind eye to the cheating and pretend it's not happening and will fight anyone who even dares to suggest otherwise because you can’t fight for something if you don’t admit it’s happening in the first place. I'm referring to the women who see their husbands for who they really are, warts and all, and are not afraid to fight for what they believe they deserve in their marriage, but in spite of all this, they have a one track minded belief that marriage is forever.

Yet Another PS: I might contradict myself at times and that’s because I’m not completely clear about my feelings on issue.

What do you all think? This should be interesting because I've heard it expressed by several women that all men cheat and that as long as he's discreet about it and it doesn't happen to often, we should thank our lucky stars and accept it.

2007-04-15T18:47:00.000Z

Robin Thicke!!!

I went to see Robin Thicke with some friends at the Jazz Cafe last Wednesday. He was late. The doors opened at 7pm and he didn't come out till 9:40pm even though we know for a fact that he was in the building the whole time because my friends had seen him outside when they arrived. It's fair to say that by the time he came on stage, the crowd was a bit disgruntled to say the least but the fact that by the end of his first song, we had all forgiven him for his lateness should give you some indication of how amazing his performance was.

Honestly, I've seen a couple of really great performers live but Robin Thicke was by far the best! He has such a great energy on stage and even though he put on a great performance (very raunchy at times with his hands straying down towards his crotch during 'Teach you a lesson'), his voice didn't suffer at all. You know how you can tell that people are singing live by the fact that their voices don't sound as polished as they do on records? Well there was none of that here. His voice was pitch perfect at all times and in my opinion he sounds even better live on some songs that he does on his records. I loved hearing him sing my favourites and he made me like even the songs that I deemed average SO MUCH MORE! My favourite performances were 'Shooter', 'Angel', 'Wanna love you girl (he did Pharell's rap and I thought he was pretty good' and 'Teach you a lesson'.

My one gripe with him apart from him being late? He didn't sing 'Superman' or 'I need Love'; my favourite songs on the album. Otherwise, it was an experience that I can't wait to repeat! Plus he had a cute bassist; Greg - the first picture above.

2007-04-10T16:06:00.000Z

Why I’m Single…

A couple of weeks ago I went out with this guy I had met a few months ago. We went to the cinema to see 'The Illusionist', then went for a drink at a Yate's bar that we ended up leaving because the music kept getting louder and louder until we couldn't hear ourselves. Then we went to Starbucks, had a couple of hot chocolates with whipped cream and then we got the tube to my stop where he waited for me to get on my bus before he went off to get his bus. He is a really great guy; good looking, smart, ambitious, he's got a similar sense of right and wrong as I do and we echo a lot of each other's thoughts. So how come I don’t want to be anything other than friends.

I just had a text from this guy who I met about 9 months ago at a party. He's a friend of a friend and we got along really well that night. He's very sarcastic and cheeky like I am, and he was really generous, putting all our drinks on his tab. I got an email from my friend the Monday morning after I met him saying that I'd made quite an impression on him and he was asking her for my number. I wasn't interested and somehow she got the message across to him. Our paths crossed again a couple of months ago at her birthday party and once again, we got along really well. A couple of weeks later I bumped into him at my tube station. A month after that, I once again bumped into him at my tube station and he asked me for my number. Now, I'm really bad at making it clear to someone at the asking for my number stage that I'm not interested. I just think it's really presumptuous of me to go, 'obviously you fancy the pants off me which is why you're asking for my number. There's no way you could be possibly interested in just being friends because I'm that hot so sorry, no, you can't have my number because I'm not interested'... you get the point. So I gave him my number. A couple of weeks after that I bumped into him at Green park tube station (fate or what?). He called to ask me if I wanted to go to the cinema and maybe dinner and I said yes but realised that I had made other commitments so I cancelled. He's funny, intelligent and has a great job and all I want to be is friends.

A few days ago, I met up with this guy I know who recently moved to Austria. He was in town for the weekend and told me a while ago so I'd make some time to hang out with him. I met him at a party late last year when he still lived in London but due to his 'player' reputation, I refused to give him my number and didn't call him when he gave me his card and asked me to call him. I saw him a couple of months later at another party and he was really sweet and very attentive. Each time he walked past me, or I walked past him, he would make sure he stopped to say something, anything to me. And later, when we all moved on some dingy club packed with So Solid Crew wannabies, he offered to drive me home. We've stayed in touch over the months, bumped into each other at parties and the like in Lagos, and he's always made it pretty clear he likes me and he's always been really sweet to me. My official line for why I won't get involved with him is because I think he's too much of a player. Unofficially? Hmmm, I’m not sure.

I think my point is that I know (and have known) a lot of amazing guys. Guys that I wouldn't hesitate to fix my very best friends with, but when it comes down to it, I never give them a chance and I have no idea why that is. Actually, that's a lie; I know why it is ... I'm very afraid of commitment. And I've narrowed down the reason for my commitment phobia to a couple of reasons. The first is that I'm very happy with the way my life is at the moment and I'm scared of it changing. The second is that I'm scared of the lack of choice that comes with having a boyfriend ... what if I miss out on the love of my life because I'm dating someone?

And it’s not that I can’t see the advantages of being in a relationship … I really would like to be in a relationship. It’s just that every time I’m with someone where there is potential for something to happen, I panic and start to think of all the reasons why I don’t want to be tied down. Maybe I just haven’t met the right person …

2007-03-29T11:23:00.000Z

I am no longer on a diet!

Sorry guys, this is such a girly post but it might give you some insight into how women feel about their bodies.

I'm no longer on a diet! Most girls I know, even those ones who seem to be effortlessly slim, have some hang-up about their bodies. Most of us just want to be a bit slimmer. I have been on a diet more or less since I was about 16. Name it, I've tried it. The Cabbage soup diet, Atkins, Slim Fast, the Cambridge diet, Weight Watchers ... the list is endless. If you'd like to know, the Cambridge diet is the most effective but it's hard core and I think you have to be at that point where you're very desperate to do something about your weight before you can commit to it. On the plus side, it's a nutritionally balanced plan. And my personal fav has to be WW because it gives you such a healthy and well balanced approach to food. It's the only diet that I ever committed to as a life style change without balking. If I've learnt anything, it's that crash diets are stupid, you will put the weight on again because ultimately you haven't learnt anything so eventually, your old habits will return and the weight will creep on again pound by pound.

At my heaviest, I was about a stone and a half heavier than I am now and that is a lot for me because I'm not particularly tall. At my slimmest, I was about a stone lighter than I am now and in my mind that's my ideal weight. For as long as I can remember, I've been dieting in an attempt to get down to this 'ideal', I've only ever reached it once (and that was because I was ill and didn't eat for 4 days) and my biggest motivation for reaching it has been the thought that when I get to my ideal weight, I'll be able to eat what I want and not have to diet anymore. So I've been dieting so I can get to a point where I no longer have to diet. A bit like working your a*se off to get a stage where you no longer have to work. The other day I was out with a couple of friends who I've been friends with since uni and as usual, the conversation turned to our weight and I said, 'to be honest, if I stay the weight I am now and I don't lose any more weight, I'll be fine' and as I said it, I realised I meant it. And when I realised I meant it, I thought, 'aren't diets for people who are trying to lose weight? If I'm not particularly bothered, why am I still dieting?' I still don't have the perfect figure but I think I've embraced my shape a bit more; I'll always have big hips and a big bum and I've actually learnt to quite like them.

The other reason for my new found body confidence is running. Thanks to London Buki's 'I will be fit' blog, I started running last September when I could just about run for 2 minutes before collapsing in a heap. Now I run three times a week, including a long run on the weekends; the last couple of weekends it's been a 12 km run. Buki and I are doing a couple of 5k charity races which by the way you can sponsor me for. If you would like to sponsor me for one of the races, check out my Race for Life and Sue Ryder Care sponsorship pages. Don't you just love that shameless plug! We're also going to do a couple of 10k races, a 10 mile race, and my ultimate goal is to do a half marathon by the end of the year. So the fact that I'm constantly pushing my body to limits I never thought I was capable of, and the fact that I feel so strong and so healthy makes me proud of my body and I guess that offsets any negative opinions I might have about how I might look. The long and short of it is that I'm no longer dieting until I have a real reason to diet, and hopefully that won't be until I've started popping out babies, which won't be for a while.

Now I'm not saying I'm going to go around eating loads of stuff that I know is bad for me. No. The one thing I can say about all those years of dieting is that I know which foods are good for us and which aren't. I'll try and eat as much of the good stuff as I can and only eat the bad stuff in moderation. So I baked a chocolate mud cake yesterday and in the past, I'd have eaten loads of it yesterday (easily half the cake) and then refused to touch it from today. Instead I had a piece last night and today, along with my roast beef and tomato wrap that I made for lunch, I have also brought a small piece of cake with me. And I intend to enjoy every bite and have a piece every day until my housemates and I finish the cake.

While I’m perfectly happy with the size and weight I am now, I have to admit that I don’t want to put on weight so I’ll continue to weigh myself weekly and if
I find my jeans getting a bit on the snug side then I’ll maybe cut back on those slivers of chocolate cake or add another long run session to my week but I’m determined that it won’t be drastic and it’ll be healthy.

I can't tell you how liberating I feel knowing that I'm no longer on a diet! Now I’m off to research all those amazing recipes that I can cook and savour now that I’m no longer counting points, or carbs, or … mmmm, oven baked southern fried chicken, sounds good!

2007-03-23T10:09:00.000Z

Another 35 sentences about Me

Dresses are my favourite type of clothing. Especially 50s style dresses. I would move to New York in a heartbeat. I want to settle down and have kids in Canada. I have 2 tattoos. I have a butterfly on the upper left hand side of my back and three stars on my left hip. My sister also has the same three stars on her left hip. I want a few more and the only reason I haven’t had them yet is because I don’t want to run out of good spots on my body to tattoo. I wrote my Undergraduate dissertation on feminism and porn. It was titled ‘Pornography: Men possessing women or freedom of expression?’ I have a Masters in International Business Law. I was a cheerleader for the basketball team in university. We were rubbish.

I think I’m a tomboy. I hardly ever wear make up and live in jeans and trainers. And yet, people tend to describe me as a girly girl. I don’t understand it. I am very secure about myself. My new year’s resolutions are to go to church more often, finish my book and run a half marathon this year. I’m doing well on the first one and the last one, but finishing my book? Hmmm. I have lots of different handwritings. I hate being centre of attention. I have a green belt in Karate. As a child, my parents made me take French, Piano and Guitar lessons. I really wanted to learn to play the violin. As soon as they gave us the choice to stop our lessons, I gave them all up. I wish I hadn’t. I’ve dressed up as a school girl, a sexy devil, an angel and a gangster for Halloween and fancy dress parties over the years. Oh, and my mum dressed me up as a hula girl for my first birthday party. My fashion icons are Nicole Richie, Rachel Bilson, Carmen Electra and Laura Bailey.

As children, my sister, brother and I would put on plays and shows to entertain guests. The cities I’ve visited other than places I’ve lived in are New York, Seattle, Vancouver, Victoria, Budapest, Rome, Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, Athens, Rhodes, Crete and Cairo. I’ve lived in Kaduna, Benin, Lagos, Sutton Coldfield (near Birmingham), Aberystwyth (Wales) and now, London. I have attended 8 schools over nursery, primary and secondary.

2007-03-14T13:15:00.000Z

www.confused.com

So there's this guy ... he lives in Lagos and was in London for a couple of weeks on holiday. At first I only wanted to be friends and I genuinely thought he felt the same. In fact I was convinced that he thought I was cool to hang out with but he wasn't attracted to me, and I'd made my peace with that. But pretty soon, I realised that he liked me. I still thought I wanted to be just friends. We hung out while he was here, went for dinner, went to the movies, mostly just went for drinks where we'd talk about all sorts of things. He even brought flowers to my office on Valentines Day. And before everyone goes awww, it was more of an arrangement than anything else. He'd mentioned that he had never gotten anything on Valentine's Day before so I said I'd send him a card, and he said he'd send me one too. On Valentines Day, he sent me a text asking me for my office address and I started wondering why, only for him to stroll in a few hours later with a bunch of flowers. My theory is he forgot to send me a card the day before and panicked on the day and bought me flowers. I still thought it was sweet. I still wanted to be just friends.

I really enjoyed talking to him, and we'd talk about the kind of stuff that I don't really talk about with anybody else. And he said he told me things he didn't really talk about with other people. If he called and I didn't pick up my phone, he'd always call back and leave me a little jokey voicemail 'threatening' to only call me one last time and never again, or to ask me if we were 'beefing'. It was sweet. Soon, I'd find myself smiling when he's name flashed up on my phone, or when I heard his voice on my voicemail and I'd look forward to seeing him. I realised that I actually quite liked him and I was getting used to having him around. Oh, did I mention that he's extremely hot! Even though I decided I liked him, I still played it cool because I felt I never knew where I stood with him. So unless he asked me if I wanted to hang out, I wouldn't ask him and so on. It's funny because on his last weekend, he said he'd blown off his Friday plans to hang out with me, but he didn't tell me this. Instead he asked me what I was doing on Friday really conversationally and I told him I was busy. I was busy, kind of. I had had a load of late nights that week and really just wanted to go home and have a night in but obviously I would have blown that off for him but he didn't say 'oh, I was thinking we should hang out', so I didn’t find out until a couple of days later that he’d cleared his schedule for me.

Anyway, his last night came around way too quickly and he met me after work (and waited even though I was 30 minutes late because my phone had just been stolen so I had to get it cancelled and I didn't have his number to call and tell him I'd be late). He suggested we go to Trocadero and go on the bumper cars. We went twice and it was so much fun, there's something about fairground type rides that makes me feel like I'm 5 again! Then we walked past a bar in Piccadilly Circus and decided to go in for a drink. We just made the end of happy hour and we stayed there until about 10:30 drinking (2 jugs of Mai Tai, 4 tequila shots each - he gave me one of his slices of lemon when I dropped mine on the table, red wine for him) and then we went to another bar where I started drinking water because I was getting kind of tipsy and I had work the following day. It was the first time we kissed and it was nice.

I couldn't call him to say bye the next day because I didn't have a phone. A few days later when I got a new phone, I sent him a text saying hey, hope he got back okay; it was nice hanging out with him etc. He didn't reply. A couple of days after that I sent him an email just saying the same stuff and I mentioned that I'd sent him a text which he didn't reply to. He replied a couple of days later saying hi, reminiscing about his last night, how much we drank and how surprised he was that we were both relatively sober and said that next time, we'd have to get there at the start of happy hour. Then he told me a funny story about being back in Lagos and finished by saying 'miss ya babe'. I realised I did actually quite like him because the email totally made my day. I replied a couple of days later and that was the last I heard from him. I still can't figure it out ... is this one of those men are from mars, women are from Venus things? Any suggestions?

2007-03-05T12:50:00.000Z

Their Love Story

I went away with my family a couple of weekends ago and over lunch; I heard the story of how my parents got together. Although I'd heard the story before, it was different this time. Firstly, because I got to hear the details. Also, it was the first time I'd heard my dad talk about it. Because both of my parents were present, my dad told the story and my mum interjected here and there so what follows is more or less a pretty accurate account. I think it's a very sweet story.

Athens, Greece ... sometime in the late 1970s.

She stood with her friend outside the door of the apartment where the party was taking place. Their host was her friend's brother. My dad opened the door and greeted his brother. Then he introduced himself to her and then announced to both of them, gesturing to her; 'This is the woman I'm going to marry'. He says he just knew. She glared at him, Who the hell does he think he is? She thought as she walked past him and into the party.

As fate would have it, over the next few years, they bumped into each other occasionally. He recalls driving down a main road one day and on seeing her walk past; he hastily parked his car and ran out to chat to her. He owned a fashion store and he saw her in there once and again made a point of talking to her. Every single time they spoke he would end the conversation by asking 'When are we going out?' She was always friendly and gracious towards him and her answer was always the same; 'Never'. She explains now that as well as the fact that she had a long term boyfriend, she had found herself very drawn to him from the beginning and believing that he was all wrong for her, she had made a conscious choice to avoid him. As time passed, her initial reservations were confirmed; he was a playboy (his words), seventeen years older than her (though she didn’t know this at the time because he has always looked younger than his age), he had a daughter and he was black. She was always polite but made it clear that there was no chance that anything would happen between them.

A couple of years after they met, he went back to Nigeria for a while, and on his return, his brother gave him her number asking him to call her just to say hi. He did call and they started to talk on the phone occasionally. He would end every conversation by asking her out. She always refused. He recalls that one evening he had an overwhelming urge to call her. He didn't. The next day, sitting in his office around lunch time, this feeling that he should call her would not leave him. It did not make sense, it was the middle of the day and he knew for a fact that she would be at university. Unable to ignore the feeling, he called her. She answered the phone, he said hi, and she burst into tears. Her father had died from a heart attack that morning. Unable to talk, she put down the phone. He scoured the afternoon papers till he found details of the funeral that evening, then he went home, changed into a suit and went to the church. As the family walked down the aisle after the funeral, she spotted him and stopped in her tracks, staring at him. It was only a few seconds but very noticeable since she was following a procession. He went to the wake after to pay his respects to the family. They went back to talking on the phone.

A few months after, my dad was having a party at his flat and it occurred to him when the party was already in full swing that my mum might want to attend so he phoned her. She made her apologies, she lived on the other side of Athens and it was late but she thanked him for inviting her. As he said good bye, he once again asked, 'when will I see you?' And she replied, 'when do you want to see me?' She had broken up with her boyfriend a while ago. He was so surprised and pleased that he suggested that he take her out for dinner that very night. He waved away her protests that he had guests and left his own party to drive across Athens and take her out for dinner. And they have been together ever since.

26 years, 3 countries, 3 children, numerous fights and uncountable differences later, I don't they'd have it any other way.

They Could Have Been Me

2007-02-23T12:51:00.000Z

I grew up in Nigeria and like everybody else we always had house girls. As children, we had two most of time because my parents both worked and there are three of us. We had our share of house girls who stole from us, house girls who were lazy and didn't do what they were hired to do and house girls who beat us unnecessarily. We also had three amazing house girls who all stayed with us for a long time and became part of the family; Rose, Asabe (our absolute favourite) and Rifikatu. Throughout my childhood though, I can't remember thinking there was anything odd about having house girls. Or drivers, or gardners, or night watch men.

I went back to Nigeria last year for the first time since I'd left 9 years ago and all of a sudden I was filled with an overwhelming sense of something resembling guilt. But isn't guilt only applicable when you've done something wrong? My aunt and uncle’s cook would cook for us, bring our food to the table and come and clear up after us. Not only are my sister and I not used to people doing things for us, but I guess we're pretty domesticated so when we'd finish eating, we'd clear the table, take the plates to the kitchen and attempt to start washing them, only for Mr. Roman to protest and refuse our help. Whenever I needed the driver to pick up something for me or drop me off somewhere, I'd ask nicely probably to give myself the illusion that I was asking as an equal rather than as someone he had to obey. One of my aunts treated her house girl really badly and it really, really bothered me. I also found myself making an effort to use the staff’s names rather than their titles when talking about them to other people. After a few days of feeling like this I tried to analyse my thoughts and I realised the reason why all of this bothered me is because the only difference between me and a house girl, or a driver is that I was born to parents who were - quite simply - richer.

I realised that it's not just the fact that I'm not comfortable with someone doing things for me (though it is partly this but that's an issue for a whole different post), it's the fact that the people who occupy these positions in Nigeria do not have a choice. They never had a chance. In the developed world, if someone is a maid, there are laws that dictate you have to pay them a minimum wage. But more than that, they have a choice. For the most part, there are other career paths they could have chosen. Take the UK for example, education up until university is free, and even in University, if your parents earn below a certain amount of money, then the university fees are waived and you receive a larger loan and often a grant to help you with your living expenses while you get an education. You have a choice about your future. I truly believe that in the West, anybody can become anything they want. I'm not saying it's easy but it's very possible, it's just a matter of how much you want it.

In Nigeria on the other hand, if you are born in some remote village where the nearest school is 10 km away and you're the only boy in your family so your father needs your help on the farm, then no matter how brilliant you are, you will never get an education and never learn about the world beyond your immediate surroundings. And this isn't just an obscure example. In Nigeria, the majority of the population will never achieve anything near what they’re capable of. Any potential you might possess is snuffed out the moment you're born on the wrong side of the gold paved tracks. And it is damn near impossible to work your way out of your social class in Nigeria, and in the rare occasions that it happens, it's usually out of stroke of luck rather than ambition, determination or hard work. Because those things that mean so much in the developed world, (ambition, determination, hard work) aren't worth a kobo in Nigeria, unless you have money.

So I figure that's why I feel guilty when I'm in Nigeria; because any of those house girls or drivers could have been me, and I them ... I'm only where I am because I got lucky in the parent lottery.

2007-02-14T18:57:00.000Z

What's different this time?

His were the first eyes mine met when I walked in
He came over immediately and gave me a hug
He held on several seconds too long
There's nothing different about that

We've known each other about twelve years
We've been attracted to each other ... oh, about twelve years
We see each other a couple of times a year
And those few times, it's as if we're the only people in the room
The tension in the air between us is so real
I avoid his eyes for fear of what I might see, or what I might reveal
He always has a girlfriend
There's nothing different about that

We laugh a lot
Then I go and find my friends and he walks back to his
I'm lost in conversation when I see him fall into the seat beside me
"Why are you sitting here when you could be talking to me?" he asks
We talk. We flirt
There's nothing different about that

We start to dance, very closely
It feels very intimate and for the first time since I met him, I'm at a loss for words
I was a shy twelve year old with a big crush then
What is my excuse now?
This is definitely different

He leads me away from the crowd
Alone now, I feel like his gaze is burning into me
I can't look at him
He pulls me into a hug, to reassure me
Then very softly, and so briefly that I wonder if I imagined it
His lips touch mine
This is definitely different

We go back to our friends
Except for furtive looks and the occasional sly touch of our hands
We are as we always are
We say our good byes and head home
The next day we're back to being friends
Friends with a history, but friends nonetheless
There's nothing different about that

Kunle is Back!

2007-02-12T19:06:00.001Z

My friend Kunle, who I blogged about in my previous post, has started up her blog again after a really, really, really long hiatus. Check it out here.

2007-02-05T09:55:00.000Z

I'm glad we're friends again

My title might give the impression that D and I stopped being friends but that's not very accurate. D and I met in school and to be honest I don't think either of us were particularly big fans of the other. It's not that we actively disliked each other, more that we didn't care for each other. But we were part of the same group of friends so inevitably we hung out.

Then I moved to England and a few months after, out of all the people I would have loved to also move to England, sods law would have it that it was D. You know how when you're somewhere different, you turn to familiar people for comfort, I guess that's what D and I did because we started talking a lot on the phone and soon we were really close. We didn't see each other very much because she was in London and I was in Birmingham but for two years, we would talk on the phone all the time. We knew every detail about each other's lives, the big things as well as the stupid little mundane things. Even though we were both broke students, if one of us bought something for ourselves, we'd buy one for the other too. Thinking back, I don't think I've ever been that open with anyone ever.

Then we went to university and we drifted apart. It's completely my fault because I got caught up in a whole new life and with a whole new group of friends and I admit I neglected my old friends a lot. It was only when one of my neighbours told me that my mum was upset that I never took her calls or returned her calls that I realised just how much I was neglecting the people that mattered to me. It wasn't on purpose, there was always something going on and I was always going to call them back later, except that later wouldn't come around for a really long time. D and I drifted apart and I didn't really notice because I had lots of new friends. However, she would still be the one to call me at 11:58 on the eve of my birthday and leave me a really long message so she could be the first one to say happy birthday, and I'm ashamed to say, I never remembered her birthday. I remember once we spoke and she was telling me about something really important that had happened to her a couple of months ago and I was only just hearing it a couple of months later. There was a time I would have known about it the very moment it happened. I don't think I even made the time to talk to her properly about it.

Fast forward about three or four years, we still saw each other occasionally and spoke once in a while but we weren't anywhere near as close as we once were. I guess maybe she stopped making the effort too and she obviously had lots of new friends. In fact, I don't know anyone as popular as little Miss. D. She knows and is known to everyone! I moved to London and we started talking occasionally and went out once. About 9 months later, we worked together for a couple of weeks which was nice and in the last couple of months, we've started emailing and talking a lot more. I'm finding myself opening up to her the way I once used to and I hope she's doing the same. Maybe we'll never go back to how we used to be, but I just wanted to say, 'D, I'm glad we're becoming close again.'

2007-01-29T14:40:00.000Z

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Bye Bye Lagos

Day 14 - Tuesday 9th January 2007

Onada's last day so we'd arranged to hang out. She also wanted to check out the books in Terra Culture so we went there; she bought some books, looked at the art again, and we got invited to a private viewing of a new artist's work on Friday, when unfortunately, we would be back in our respective countries. She wanted some more Nigerian books so we decided to go to The Palms because someone had told us there was a big bookshop there. Turns out there wasn't a big bookshop there at all but we walked around and then had some lunch at Nandos! I don't know if it's just me but I find the thought of a Nandos in Nigeria so cool! It was pretty much the same as Nandos here except that it's slightly hotter but I could still handle my extra hot. Oh and you can have jollof rice with your chicken which is pretty much the icing on the cake. Now all they have to do is sort out some dodo and I’ll be moving back to Lagos and into the nearest Nandos!

After lunch, we went to Silverbird on the hunt for more books then I dropped Onada home.

The last couple of days, Dimples had texted me a couple of times just saying hi, what are you up to, we should meet up soon, that kind of stuff. Because it was the last couple of days I had to spend with my girls, I genuinely didn't have time to meet up and I'd told him that. Even though he didn’t believe me and he thought I was hanging out with ‘the competition’. Just before I'd dropped Onada off home, we'd been texting and it turns out he was staying in the same neighbourhood that she lives so after I dropped her off, I went round and we were talking for a while and contemplated going to the movies. He told me to send the driver home because he would take me back. A friend of his came round and we sat around and chilled, watching Hitch in black and white (something to do with the DVD player), then went out and got shawarmas. All of this was interspersed with debates about why girls ‘front’, obviously their topic, not mine. It was a really fun evening and I felt really comfortable in his company so that was cool, such a change from the wedding. We made plans to hang out the next day and he took me home.

Day 15 - My second to last day

Oh, guess who called me last night? Taye. I had literally forgotten about him by now so I was very surprised to hear from him but we talked for about an hour. To be honest, it's the first time we'd really talked. He's a really nice guy but kind of serious, like I felt a bit silly telling him what kind of films I liked or that reading for me was purely pleasure so I try and avoid intelligent books where possible (thinking about it, maybe I shouldn't be telling anyone that). We made plans to hang out the next day but I forgot that I had made plans already to hang out with Dimples so I called Taye this afternoon and asked him if we could postpone until tomorrow.

So back to the morning, I haven't plaited my hair in years so I decided that before I came back to England, it was something I wanted to do. So the morning was spent at the salon plaiting my hair. I got home with a bit of a headache, chilled a while and went to hang with Dimples for a while. Again, it was really cool, we started watching 'Something new' but I had to leave before we finished and it was kind of sad saying bye. He might be doing an MBA in Scotland though so I guess we'll wait and see what happens.

From his house I headed to Churrasco where I had initially made plans to hang out with Lola on my last night. I had invited Ugo along, then a couple of guys I'd met a couple of days ago, and my cousin and basically everyone who I wanted to see one last time before I left. Lola also invited three of her friends so in the end, a little catch-up between the two of us turned into a 12 person cocktail fest. Except that the blender wasn't working so we couldn't have any of the creamy drinks (I didn't care because I was very into my Mojitos at this point). Oh I have to tell you about the annoying hostess at Churrasco. When I first got there, it was just me and two guys so we sat at the bar and caught up. Then Lola showed up with her three friends and we asked the hostess if we could move to a table. The conversation went something like this:
Me, smiling and being oh so pleasant: Hi, do you mind if we move to a table?
Her: Are you eating?
Me: No, we're just having drinks.
Her: Sorry, the tables are for people that are eating.
Me, looking around bewildered because it's 8 O’clock on a Wednesday night, only two tables are occupied by people eating, and there are about 10 tables to spare: Emmm, I seriously doubt it will get full ....
One of the guys jumped in and assured her that if they needed the table, we'd stand up. So very reluctantly, she led us to a table for 8.
Then my cousin shows up and sits at the spare seat. Then Ugo shows up and pulls up a seat from another table. Then the last two people show up and the hostess comes up to us again:
Her: I gave you a table and now you are spoiling all the other table arrangements.
Me sincerely: I'm sorry, we didn't mean to. Would you mind if we move to that table over there so that it will take all of us?
Her: I'm sorry, I can't give you that table. You're not eating; you have to wait till after 11 to sit at a table, you can move to the bar.
Now if you've been to Churrasco you'll know that it has a pretty big bar with chairs all around. If we moved to the bar as a group, there's no way we would have been able to carry out any sort of conversation whatsoever.
I'm usually a really nice and polite girl I promise, but I was getting really annoyed at the increasing lack of any rational thought on her part.
Me: It's 9 O’clock now, only two tables are occupied, there are 12 of us here drinking and to be honest, we're happy to go somewhere else (someone had been talking about checking out Bambuddah). And you're honestly telling me that you'd rather lose our business than give us a table in your near empty restaurant which is not going to get busy since it's a Wednesday night?
Ugo spotted the owner and suggested going to talk to him, and the hostess reluctantly said she would do it herself. Then she came over, said we were lucky and we could move to the bigger table. Lucky? Us? Imagine that.

Anyways, it was a really great last night and as is the way with Lagos, everybody in the group seemed to have worked with someone else, or gone to primary school with another person or something and that made for good conversation. And the Suya we bought on the way home was the perfect end to a pretty good day.

Day 16 - My last day

My flight was at 11 in the night so I had planned that I would leave VGC at 5pm.

I woke up and packed, then had a shower and went to The Palms. There were a few essentials I needed to buy before I came home; Indomie noodles and Choco Milo. Also, I was determined to have meat pie and sausage rolls from Mr Biggs. While I was there, I got a text from Taye asking if we were still on so I sent him one back saying I was in The Palms and he could come and meet me there if he was free. I finished shopping for the essentials and then went to the really nice coffee shop in The Palms, I can't remember what it's called but it's the one that is at the opposite end of the mall from Shoprite. I had my John Grisham book - which is taking me a while to read because it's basically Grisham recounting a true life case of gross injustice in some small American town, and while it's got interesting bits, it's really just like reading a load of legal documents. And not that that's a bad thing, it's just not what I signed up for. I was expecting a great Grisham legal thriller - not that he's had many of those in the last few years. Anyway, I digress - I had my book, my notebook where I was working on a blog idea and I had my Sudoku book so I was looking forward to some nice coffee and some me time if Taye didn't show up. But he did and it was nice, though by this time I had no interest in him in any way other than as a friend. And to be honest I think he felt the same. I had a cappuccino, he had pizza and we talked. We managed to find a middle ground between his intellectual conversation and my notoriously playful banter, which we cemented with me promising to read his book recommendation, 'The Life of Pi' and him promising to read something by my favourite author James Patterson. We said goodbye and then I went home, got my suitcases and headed for the airport.

I know 'hate' is a strong word but I think it is fair to say I hate the airport in Lagos! It took me three hours from the time I joined the queue to check in, which wasn't even that long, until I got through immigration! And much as I was thinking that I want to move to Lagos, I must admit that I breathed a sight of contentment when a mere 15 minutes after arriving at Heathrow, I had passed through customs, collected my luggage and was on my way out of the airport.

So that’s all folks. If I were you, I wouldn't revisit my blog because it is unlikely I will have anything interesting to report till next Christmas!

2007-01-25T11:53:00.000Z

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Dimples

Day 9...

... Was kinda boring. I did my hair in the morning, came back and caught up on some reading. I was up for going out in the night but I couldn't get a ride out of VGC so it was a night in for me. I enjoyed my nights in because I went to Lagos armed with lots of books. Anyways, it was a good night for me but nothing of any note to tell you guys.

Day 10

Today was Noni Moss’ last day and due to the fact that she was always rocking some wedding, party, club, lounge ... she was complaining that there were a lot of things she wanted to do which she hadn't yet done. For example, she hadn't yet eaten at Yellow Chilli so we decided to go there for some lunch. We met a friend of ours there and had peppersoup to start and then pounded yam for mains. I suffer from a severe case of 'eyes bigger than my stomach' syndrome so I struggled to finish the pounded yam, knowing the whole time that I really should stop eating because I was full but not being able to stand the thought of leaving perfectly good food on my plate.

I said my goodbyes to Noni after lunch and then went home to have a nap before the evening's activities. That night, I met Onada and some friends and then went back to her house as one of our other friends had organised a school reunion. We got dressed at Onada's and then one of her (many) admirers came to pick us up to take us to the bar in Lekki where everyone was meeting. We were there for a couple of hours during which loads of people from our former school showed up. It was really nice except that I kept getting embarrassed when I didn't remember people's names or even their faces, if they had changed a lot. In my defence, I was only at ISL for a year and I left right at the beginning of SS2 so everyone had two years more together than I did with them. I really didn't want people to think I had turned into one of those girls. You know? Those girls that you were practically best friends with in school and when you see them after a while, naturally you say hi. But despite the fact that they know you, they definitely recognise you and know your name, yet they look at you, re-arrange their features into mock confusion, adopt a well practised voice and say, 'you look really familiar, do I know you?'. To anyone that I didn't remember, I'm really sorry but I'm not one of those girls!

We dropped by Newscafe briefly after and then some of us headed to Bacchus lounge. I said hi to some people and was talking to my friends when one of them asked, 'did you see Fola and Dimples?' I'd see Fola but I hadn't seen Dimples, I didn't even realise he was in town. Dimples - so named because of his huge smile and very cute dimples - was this guy in the year above me who I'd had the biggest crush on in school, so naturally, I was curious to see him. A while later, I spotted him dancing across the table from me so I reached over, tugged at his polo shirt, said hi and was about to re-introduce myself when a look of recognition came over his face, followed by a smile and he motioned me to walk around the table where he gave me a hug and asked if we could go to somewhere with a bit more space so that we could catch up. We went to stand by the entrance to the toilets (it was the only part of the club with any room whatsoever), he offered me a drink and then grabbed my left hand to look at my ring finger. He smiled when he saw that I wasn't married and proceeded to ask me something about HIM, to which I replied that there wasn't any HIM. He reminded me how he used to take his mum to church near my house and confessed that while he'd sit in the car waiting for her, he'd hope I'd walk past so he could talk to me. Turns out he had a crush on me too, but how was I supposed to know, he was one of the cool older boys that intimidated me! We talked a bit and went our separate ways but he got me to dance with him a couple of times during the course of the night and just before we went home, he asked my friends if he could borrow me and we chatted a bit more. He took my number and confessed he couldn't remember my name (I forgave him because after all it had been like 10 years). He seemed really happy to see me and it was great seeing him too.

We headed back to Onada's house where I slept till about 11 the next morning when the driver could come and pick me up.

Day 11

I got home, went straight to bed and was woken up at 4ish by a text message from Dimples asking if I'd had a good night. A few text messages later, he told me he was going to a wedding reception and if I wasn't doing anything, he'd like me to come with him. I thought about it for a bit because I hadn't showered and I really wasn't in the mood to get dressed up but I decided I wasn't doing anything better so I told him I'd come along then I ran around in a rush trying to get dressed. I rushed out feeling very unready and we drove to the reception which was by the Palms together. He was kind of quiet and we didn’t have the same kind of repartee that we did the day before.

The reception was nice, even though I didn't know the people who had gotten married, a few of my friends and cousins were there and I even managed to see a couple of relatives that I hadn't managed to see on my trip. Dimples and I didn't get to talk that much because we were both busy talking to other people. When we were leaving, my cousin asked if we could drop her off somewhere and Dimples said that was fine. We set off only for her to realise she had no idea where it was that she was trying to go so she finally asked if we could turn back around and drop her off at the Palms so she could meet her friend there instead. I was really apologetic but Dimples was really nice about it and when we'd dropped her off, he came and sat in the back of the car with me and held my hand (well, we held hands) all the way back to VGC. Conversation was better but I have to admit I thought it was a bit of an anti-climax after how excited I was about seeing him the day before.

Day 12

I went to church with my Aunt and Uncle and then we went for lunch at the Federal Palace hotel, which has a lovely view from the restaurant. Give me a view of water, any water, and I'm hooked. When we got home after a big lunch, we all retired to bed and I woke up in the evening around 6ish to the sound of my phone ringing. It was my friend Lola who lives down the road from me in VGC, and who I hadn't managed to see yet as we kept missing each other. Anyway, she was outside my gate and the gateman wouldn't let her in. We have the most annoying gateman, he won't let anyone in unless someone comes out to get them and he won't let my friends park in the driveway because apparently 'Oga say no'. Anyways, I went down to let her and her cousins in and they stayed for about 20 minutes and then asked me if I wanted to come to the cinema with them in about half an hour. I said yes and an hour later saw us in Silverbird trying to decide what to see. They had wanted to see 'Bobby' but when we got there, we found out it wasn't starting until the next day and the only film that we all hadn't seen was 'The Holiday' so we saw that. I wasn't very impressed, I had been looking forward to seeing that film for a while and I'd heard it was a good romantic comedy, comparable to Love Actually. Puh-lease ... it wasn't even close. It was too long, Cameron Diaz's character was very annoying and Kate Winslet's character was literally Bridget Jones. Nope, not at all impressed. Thankfully, the Shawarmas we went to eat and Mega Plaza made up for it.

Day 13

It was D's last day and she wanted to go to Terra Culture. So we went there, checked our emails, bought some books, oohed and aaahed over the art in the gallery and made a pact to save some money so we could each buy a piece of art when we go to Lagos this year, then we had some lunch (Jollof rice, grilled Tilapia fish and dodo, cut into nice small quarters just the way I like it) and went to Silverbird because she wanted to buy some more books and some Nigerian movies. Seriously, I do not get the Nigerian movie thing ....at all! Then while we were waiting at Barcelos from some food to take back to little Miss Onada, we shared this big waffle thing with ice cream ... yum!

I got dropped off at Piccolo Mundo where I was meeting my friend Ugo. She's moved back to Lagos and we hadn't really had a chance to catch up so we had a lot to talk about over the best cappuccino I have ever tasted and a chocolate fondant cake. Yes, I know, I ate a lot that day. She's making some big changes in her life and she's so full of amazing ideas that it was really nice hearing them all and catching up on life in general. Then she took me home, said hi to my aunt and promised to come and sleep over on Wednesday which would be my last night.

2007-01-22T14:33:00.000Z

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Colds, Old Friends and Taye

Day 5 - New Years Eve

I went to church, then had lunch with my aunt, uncle and cousins and then headed to my bed for a much needed kip as I'd only slept a couple of hours the night before. After I woke up, I went to watch the fireworks in the park with some of the VGC massive. The highlight of the park experience was seeing my 30 year old friend running around the park flying a remote control aeroplane - which he wasn't great at, he kept flying it into trees and having to shake it loose - that he had bought for his two year old niece. After the fireworks, we went round to Noni's house where we ate eba and efo ruro (I have no idea if that's the correct spelling), then had Toblerone for desert and drank champagne while we saw in the New Year. Then I made my excuses and went home. To be honest, I wasn't too bothered about not going out on New Years Eve because I think it’s kinda overrated. My ideal thing to do would have been to go to a house party but there didn't seem to be any going on this year and the only other option was The Boat Club which would have cost 7000 naira and I've heard is way too pretentious to really be fun.

Oh did I mention I had a cold? I'm pretty fit and hardly ever get ill ... that is, except for colds. I get every single cold that ever goes around. A couple of nights before New Year, my air conditioner was really cold during the night but I was too lazy/deep in sleep to wake up and reduce the power so I slept through it and ta daa, woke up the next morning with a cold. So by New Years Eve, I was more or less constantly high on some cold medication and only able to function for a couple of hours before needing to conk out again.

Day 6

I met up with some of the VGC massive at the Nicon hotel for some lunch (or so we thought). We sat outside by the pool, ordered Chapmans (yup, I know, I was becoming a bit obsessive by this point. Oh by the way, does anyone know how to make a good Chapman? And while I'm on the subject of recipes, I'd really appreciate a puff puff and okro soup recipe). Anyway, I ordered goat meat pepper soup and they came back to say they didn't have goat meat peppersoup but they had chicken peppersoup if I wanted. I was cool with that so I ordered. Then my friend wanted the starter basket which they didn't have. Fine, she was a bit annoyed but she looked at the menu and chose something else. They didn't have that either. After making about 4 different choices on a menu which only had about 20 items only to be told each time 'I'm sorry ma, we don't have that one', she finally asked what they did have. The guy pointed to the sandwich side of the menu and was like 'ennn, we have most of the sandwiches.' Sandwiches?? Sandwiches??? Needless to say, she didn’t really feel like a sandwich so I cancelled my food order and we decided to go and get the great chicken from the Chinese restaurant on our way home.

A few chicken wings and some full bellies later, we got dressed and went to meet some friends in Churrasco. It was my first time there and I have to say it lived up to the rave reviews from my sister. I was even more impressed with the number of dirty cocktail names - Slow comfortable screw against the wall with a twist and Pornstar to name a couple. We talked, drank, chilled and generally made merry.

Day 7

This was probably my favourite day of all the days I spent in Lagos. I met up with Onada and two of our friends; O and D at Chocolat Royale to catch up. It was the first time I had seen O this holiday and it was really nice catching up. I keep in touch with Onada and D by email but O and I have never been great at keeping in touch. But more so with her than anyone else, it literally takes a couple of minutes before we go back to exactly how we used to be. It's really nice. Her boyfriend had dropped them all off and since I had heard so much about this guy she had been dating for about 2 years, it was nice to finally meet him. He was so different to everything I expected; he was really nice and friendly and soooooo in love with her. Sorry O, I have no idea why I thought he wouldn't be like that! After he dropped them off, his car broke down and he set about trying to fix it, but not before getting his cousin to come and pick us up and take us where we wanted to go. Altogether now - awwww. We had ice-cream, cakes and biscuits and were planning to go to M Cafe in Silver bird but that was full, so prompted by my musings about how I hadn't yet eaten my favourite meal of pounded yam and okro, O's boyfriend and his cousin took us to Yellow Chilli. We went upstairs to the bar where we could be as loud as we wanted, taking loads of pictures (Onada is such a tourist) and eating our very scrumptious food. Me, I ate my pounded yam and okro with my hand the way God intended it. We were joined by another large group of people, and about half an hour before we left, another large group came in. In this group were LondonBuki and T.Minx and it was the first of many times I saw them.

From there, we went to Soul Lounge at the Palms. I like it, I think it has a great atmosphere but it’s kinda small. It wasn't too busy that day so it was nice. We drank wine and did Tequila shots and danced for a while and then I had to go home around 10:30ish because I wouldn't have been able to get a ride home later. It was just such a fun day, you know one of those days where everything you do is spontaneous and impulsive and yet you couldn't have had a better time if you had planned it.

Day 8

I went to visit my cousins and just spent the day with them, chilling and helping them cook. It's really nice to catch up with them even though it's only once a year. Halfway through the day, I got a call from this guy (we'll call him Taye because I think he looks like Taye Diggs) asking me if I wanted to do something that night. I said yes and hung up really excited. I had met Taye in London in April. He lives in Naij and was on holiday. A friend had mentioned he was cute (and he is actually very hot) but since I knew she was making her move, I stayed away. However, he spent the whole night trying to talk to me and I spent the whole night trying to get him to go and talk to her and dance with her and so on. When I was leaving and he asked for my number, I thought, 'you know what, I haven't encouraged him at all and he still wants to see me. Plus I also think he's cute and she only just met him too' so I gave him my number. He was going home in two days and wanted to do something the next day. He never called. Turns out that even though he didn’t ask for my friend’s number, he asked around and called her and asked her out. Anyway, I bumped into him in Lagos at the party on the 30th and he was being very nice. He'd say things like, 'there are some great places in Lagos, but it's not the places everyone goes'. To which I replied, 'Tell me, it will be nice to go somewhere that's not as crowded as the places I usually go.' And he replied, 'I'm not telling you, but maybe I'll take you'. He asked for my number and when he was leaving, he asked what I was doing the following week. Anyways, judging from my experience with him in London, I wasn't sure if he would call and had given him three days because I'd decided if he was going to call, it'd be within that time. So I'm at my cousin's house, it's the fourth day and I'd mentally made my peace with the fact that he wouldn't call, and then he calls. I can't lie; I was looking forward to seeing him. I got home, had a nap and was about to hop into the shower when I got a text from him saying he had car troubles and couldn't make it. Then he called to apologise. I don't know why but I had a feeling that we wouldn't meet up and I felt like it was an excuse. But then that left me all confused; why would he call to ask me out if he didn't want to go out in the first place??? Anyway, I said it was okay and ended up going out with Noni and a few of the VGC massive. We first went to News Cafe where we were treated to champagne by this guy trying to impress a girl (Nigerian girls can enjoy oh!) and then we went to Bacchus lounge because everywhere else was pretty dead. I won't go into it again because I already went on and on here about how it was the best night I had in Lagos so I guess it’s good that Taye cancelled on me otherwise I would have missed out.

2007-01-17T18:01:00.000Z

The Best Two weeks of my Life
Humongous Houses and Chapmans

Noni Moss’ day to day account of her adventures in Nigeria inspired me to blog about my own day to day itinerary. Actually I’m just doing follow follow and copying Noni’s idea.

Day 1 (27th December)

Noni and I got to Lagos on the same evening; different flights an hour or two apart. In true Noni style, by the time I had gotten my luggage and called her, she had sorted out our evening plans and dismissed any thoughts I might have had about staying in. I'm a part of the VGC massive so I knew that refusing her would mean risking her coming to my house and waking up my entire family in order to make me come out. Basically, resistance is futile. With that in mind, I went home, had dinner with my aunt and uncle, changed my top, put some make up on and went out. We went to a house party in Lekki thrown by a girl who apparently has one every year. She had a huge, huge, gorgeous house! Honestly, every year I go back, I spend a good amount of time just gaping at the huge, magnificent houses some people have. I always make it a point to walk around VGC just to look at all the new houses and re-affirm my commitment to marrying a rich man and becoming a lady who lunches … joke! Anyways, back to the party, apparently there were 400 people in her garden and it didn't even look crowded so that should give you some idea of how big it was. It was a really good party and I got to see lots of people that I knew. It was very surreal seeing friends who I made in London and who I've never seen out of London, but it was nice. There must have been twice as many people in Lagos this year as there were last year. We left about 3am to go home to get some much deserved sleep.

Day 2

I woke up kinda late and then dragged myself to the hairdressers. I have long hair which might look great when it's all nice and styled but it's a nightmare for someone like me who really hates faffing around with hair and makeup. So I was in heaven at the thought of going to someone who would wash and set my hair for me for the very reasonable sum of 600 Naira ... that's like £2.50! I emerged sufficiently beautified but at a high price! I honestly thought my head would explode when it was under the dryer. Seriously, how do women do that every week??? Anyways, I got home, slept for an hour and then went to a friend's dinner party with Noni. There were some really cool people there, especially two guys and a girl who had all started their own production company together. It was the two guys that really impressed me because father time and mother experience have presented me with very few Nigerian guys who have impressed me. They were very opinionated (as I find most Nigerian men are) but what I found interesting was that they had obviously put a lot of thought into the opinions they held. They weren't just arguing for arguments sake or because they were too proud to admit that they might be wrong. After one particularly long discussion in which I held the opposite views to theirs, I found myself coming round to their way of thinking by the end because of the sheer persuasiveness of their arguments. And they just had so much respect for women (one of them even referred to himself as a feminist); for example they expressed disappointment at mothers and friends who convince their daughters/friends to stay with husbands who cheat on them or beat them because in their opinion, every woman deserves better. In short it was an ideal dinner party, and everyone got on so well. We went to Saipan after which I enjoyed. I really like their live bands! Congratulations are in order for Noni because I think she may have met her future baby daddy that night ha ha. Read her post on her adventures in Lagos to find out why I’m finding that so funny. And then it was on to Bacchus which for the first time, I really didn't enjoy. It was too packed for us to dance together, and there were some drunken guys fighting most of the night. Another relatively early night.

Day 3

I didn't really do much all day. I was supposed to be going to a family friend's engagement which started at like 1 but I didn't get there till 5. It was so much fun and the first time I got to see all of my old school friends since I'd gotten to Lagos so that was really nice. We took loads of pictures, drank loads of Chapman (how did I ever get through last Christmas without drinking it even once, I wonder) and spent a huge amount of time studiously ignoring the two groups of men with the talking drums who positioned themselves by us. I got back to VGC around 9ish and rang Noni who invited me to dinner at the VGC Chinese restaurant with her Uncle and Aunty. Mmmm, I completely support her verdict on the chicken though I can’t believe she remembers what number it was on the menu! And I had my third Chapman of the evening!

Oh, have I mentioned how much I love VGC? For me, it’s proof that things in Nigeria can actually work under good management. The roads are paved (which is nothing short of a miracle in Lagos!), they’ve got palm trees and a park which are obviously well maintained, there was a fireworks display on New Years Eve, there is a shuttle bus service which runs regularly, good security, I could go on and on. If I ever move back, I would love to live somewhere like that.

Day 4

I spent the day with my little cousins. Or rather spent the day in the hairdressers with my little cousins while they did their hair. In the night a few of us went to a friend’s birthday party. Cue another beautiful house with the garden lit by candles, the pool filled with balloons, two bars serving cocktails, food, and small tables dotted around the garden and the pool. And she had a dress up policy which means everyone looked really nice. It was a really nice party and the kind that only ever takes place in Lagos.

2007-01-15T13:33:00.000Z

The Best Two Weeks of My Life

Hey People,

Hope you all had a really good Christmas and New Year!

I’m back … and really wishing I wasn’t. It’s taken me a while to blog about Lagos because I had no idea how to put the last couple of weeks into any sort of coherent blog format. But I’ve now given up on that and decided to just write about my holiday as I remember it, so pardon the randomness and enjoy.

I had so much fun I can’t even begin to try and describe how much. Three of my good friends were also in town, and it was the first time in 11 years that we were all in the same place at the same time. But that’s the funny thing about old friends, we all met up for cake (and ice-cream) at Chocolat Royale and within 5 minutes it was just like old times, no awkwardness, no lulls in conversation, just funny banter and catching up on the last few years. I can’t go on enough about how nice it was just hanging out with them and going out together.

Ooooh, I met a couple of fellow bloggers – LondonBuki and Taurean Minx. They’re both really pretty and so nice and friendly. It’s pretty cool putting faces and names to your blog pals. I also met up with a couple of other bloggers who I know; Onada (one of the three friends I just talked about) and Noni Moss; believe me when I say that girl can party like no man’s business. My holiday would probably have been slightly more chilled if it wasn’t for her.

I met so many interesting new people in Lagos. Shock of all horrors, I’m actually thinking that I might want to live there for a couple of years. I know you’re probably thinking, ‘Ehen, so what? Are you not Nigerian? Is it not home? It is a natural progression jare’ En en, until I went back last Christmas, I was adamant that there was no way on God’s good earth I would ever move back to Nigeria… never ever. More so, I couldn’t understand people whose ambition it was to move back. It just didn’t make any sense. After I spent Christmas there last year, my position shifted a tiny bit; The only way I would ever live in Nigeria would be if I married a Nigerian guy (which at the time I thought was very unlikely) and he absolutely, positively couldn’t live anywhere else, and even then, there’d be serious talks! So imagine my surprise when after a week this holiday, I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, there might be something to this whole moving back thing after all. I’m taking my time to think about it, I don’t want to make any rash decisions based on my consumption of too may cocktails at Churrasco!

Hmmm, coming on to the topic of guys … lol, apparently, I’m hot stuff in Lagos oh. First of all, I met (completely platonically) a couple of really nice guys who gave me some faith in the Nigerian male species. I might just tell you more about them and some of the other guys I met but that’s a whole different topic for a whole other blog. Let’s just say I really enjoyed getting to know new people … ha ha. Oh, and another shift in my mindset is that I’m not as anti-Nigerian men as I once was; who knows, I might even end up marrying one.

I love going out in Lagos! In fact it would probably be accurate to say that I go out as much or more in Lagos as I do the entire year in London. It’s just so much fun, and its great catching up with people. Bars I loved this year were Piccolo Mundo and Currasco. I love a place that knows how to make good cocktails! Unfortunately, the club everyone goes to is still Bacchus and considering how tiny it is, I really didn’t enjoy my one night there. After that, we went to Bacchus lounge a couple of times and I had my absolute favourite night there! It was the first Wednesday after the New Year and the night before everyone resumed work on Thursday so it wasn’t very busy compared to what it’s normally like. But there was a good group of us and it was so much fun! We played this game my sister invented where you have to do a really stupid/crazy dance but keep a straight face while everyone around you dissolves into fits of laughter … and everyone joined in. It was just a really amazing night, and the first time since I had been in Lagos where 5am came around way too quickly!
Mmmm, and the food … Yellow Chilli and Terra Culture are the places to go for your Nigerian food. I ate goat meat peppersoup and pounded yam with okro both times I went to Yellow Chilli and loved it both times. Not to make anyone jealous or anything, but I ate suya, and Chinese food Naija style (which has the added benefit of being peppery), jollof rice and plantain (even though I only had plantain twice the entire time I was there … shame!). Actually, the only thing I didn’t eat was yam for breakfast and not as much puff puff as I would have liked.

Okay, I’m sitting at my desk daydreaming about food so I’m thinking it’s time for me to shut up about Lagos, but not before I say one last time what an amazing time I had … easily the best two weeks of my entire life … until next year, that is!

2006-12-20T14:55:00.000Z

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE AND HAVE AN AMAZING, UNFORGETTABLE NEW YEAR!

I really doubt that I'll post in the next three weeks but instead, I'll try and have loads of fun so that I can have stories galore to entertain you with in the new year. Oh and just because I'm not posting doesn't mean I won't be reading, so no slacking off the rest of you!!!

2006-12-11T13:59:00.000Z

Monday 11 December 2006 - Random thoughts...

The Countdown: 2 weeks and 2 days until I go to Lagos … I can’t wait!!!

Winters for Two: Is it me or does winter seemed to have been designed specifically with couples in mind? It's freezing cold, it's always raining and it gets dark ridiculously early and all of these factors conspire to keep you indoors from November until March. Five long months which are only really fun if you're part of a twosome. You see, for couples, winters are actually lots of fun ... staying in, talking, playing games, reading, chilling in general is much more fun if you have somebody to do it with. Plus if you do decide to venture out and see the Christmas lights or go ice skating, then guess what? More fun with someone else! In the summer, I have a fuller schedule than I have hours in the day and I'm always grateful for any time I get to myself. And if I find myself alone and with nothing to do, there are a myriad of parks awaiting my presence in some shorts and armed with magazines, books and food. Now I am very happy being single but if there is ever a time of year where I get a bit of twinge about how great it would be to have someone, it's in winter!

My Chauvinist Brother: I had the funniest conversation with my brother who is a tongue in cheek chauvinist pig. At least I hope it's tongue in cheek! I'm a huge feminist so I suspect he sometimes says things just to wind me up. I was telling him how much I love Beyonce's 'Irreplaceable' (which I love by the way) and the conversation went something like this. You have to imagine how dead pan he delivers his lines and how worked up I was getting with every word he was saying.

Me: I love Irreplaceable! I have no idea why because I'm not a bit fan of her solo stuff but I really love that song!
Him: I don't. It gives women ideas, makes them forget their place. Men are never replaceable, only women are.
Me (my voice seething with sarcasm): Let me guess, 'cater to you' is more your kind of song.
Him: Thank you! Now that's a song. Women everywhere should employ that as their anthem!
Me: I hate that song with a passion, please; you couldn't pay me to sing those lyrics!
Him: Nope, it was only after they sang that song that I started to really respect DC. I really don't approve of all that 'Independent woman', 'I'm a Survivor' crap they were singing before then.
And Cassie is hot, but she it's her song that cinched the deal for me. He starts singing, '…I know what to do, if only you would let me, as long as you're cool, you know I'd treat you right...’ Oh and don't even get me started on Rihanna, like a woman would ever be unfaithful to a man...

Good bye to Noni Moss: Aww, isn't it sad when bloggers leave the blog world? Unfortunately, she is a friend of mine so I'm kinda stuck with her but I'm sure the rest of you guys will really miss her!

It's pretty old by now but I still stop everything I'm doing and listen whenever James Morrison's 'You give me something' comes on the radio. Do yourselves a favour and listen to it!

2006-12-07T09:59:00.000Z

My Biggest Shame

I realise I might be ever so slightly flawed. Okay, maybe a bit more than slightly ... fine, fine, I admit it, I'm very flawed. But for the most part I'm very aware of my flaws so I don't need anybody to tell me that I'm stubborn, passive aggressive, or that I can be argumentative and harsh (though I'm not sure if that's a flaw since I'm a big believer in judging people by the same standards that I set myself). But that's besides the point, the point is I sometimes struggle to admit that I am wrong, and I would rather ignore a problem with someone than confront it, that I can isolate myself from the people that I really should let in. I'm pretty sure you get it, wrapped up in this pretty package is a whole lot of unpretty. But I get it too, I'm painfully aware of all of my bad habits and characteristics, which is why I hang on to this memory; this memory of a time where I became a person I should have been better than, when I acquired a whole new set of flaws I would never ever have attributed to myself. Here's the story.

On my first day at university, I made lots of friend but three in particular became my close friends; they were Becky, Alice and Marya. We lived on the same floor of the residence building and made plans after three months to share a house together in our second year. Ironically, we all became friends out of a mutual admiration for Becky who was so funny and outgoing at a time when most of us were still pretty shy. Becky met a guy on her first day at university and pretty soon they became inseparable and soon she started making excuses about why she couldn't come out with us, or she would pretend she wasn't feeling well so as to cancel our plans. After a while we started bonding really well without Becky and actually started getting really frustrated with her. She on the other hand started hanging out with her boyfriend's friends who really didn't like us. Needless to say, we were really weren't the best of friends by the end of the first year but seeing as we had a house with all our names on the lease, we had to live together, and things got really bad.

I'm not trying to justify my behaviour because it really isn't justifiable but I'd like to explain how things became the way they did. Becky had some little annoying habits such as talking through films, TV programmes etc, her boyfriend practically moved in and they'd drink all the milk but she would never ever buy any, or anything else for that matter, she would make annoying comments (like comment on how much one of us was eating even though she knew we were conscious about our weight), though now I realise that she probably didn't mean it maliciously. It was little things but as none of us was the confrontational sort, we'd talk about it to each other instead of talking to her directly. Or we'd set up these elaborate scenes where one of us would come into the lounge and say something like 'You guys, I'm sick and tired of always buying milk, can one of you please do it?' and the other two would recount when last they had bought milk all in the hope that Becky would pipe up and say, 'actually, it's my turn. I haven't bought any in a while'. I know, I know, one of us really should have sat her down and said, 'Becky it's your turn to buy milk, can you please start pulling your weight and take on your share of responsibilities?’ It started off with us getting annoyed about valid things, but the more annoyed we got and the more we'd talk about it within ourselves, the more petty we became. Because Marya, Alice and I were so close, we'd often hang out in each other's rooms and when Becky would come to spend time with us (usually using an excuse like offering us tea or wanting to borrow a book because we must have made her feel so unwelcome) we'd leave one by one until Becky would leave too and then within half an hour we'd be assembled in a different room again. She must have sensed the tension because the worst we became, the nicer she was and the more of an effort she would make.

I often felt bad but most of the time, I was too annoyed to really care.

In my third year, I moved to Canada for my first semester and I heard things in the house were even more strained. However, with the distance, I started to realise how mean we were being and how much I would have hated it if I were in Becky's shoes. And then Alice's ex-boyfriend told her that Becky had told him that she would hear us talk about her and she really hated living with us and it really hit home just how horrible we were. Because we never confronted her, we never let her know what our issues with her were thereby not giving her a chance to do anything about it. We basically never even gave her a chance. I can't even begin to explain how ashamed of myself I felt then (and even now, whenever I think about it) and I resolved to stop. And I did, in my last two semesters, I stopped bitching about her (even though I did let her know what I thought every now and then) and we even became closer. I became more patient with her and actually started seeing the good in her again instead of focusing on her flaws.

I'm blogging about it and I force myself to think about it every once in a while just so I remember what kind of a person I'm capable of being if I'm not careful. Like I said, I know my flaws but I never would have thought I was capable of being a cold, intolerant bitch and that's exactly what I was.

2006-12-01T17:10:00.000Z

If I don't tell you enough how I feel about you
It is because I assume that you already know
Now that you're going away
I’m through with assuming, I want to tell you exactly how I feel

I'm happier when I'm with you
I'm always laughing when you're around
Everything makes me smile when I see you smile. You make me smile
I love the fact that I can spend hours in your presence and not feel the need to say anything
I love that I can rant for ages and yet you make me feel like every word I utter is just as valid as the first

I love the ways in which you constantly challenge me.
I respect you
I value your opinions
I demand from myself the same high standards that you continuously demonstrate in everything you do
I admire you
I believe in you

I love your hair and your eyes and your perfect lips
I love everything about you
I even love you when you're grumpy in the morning or moan at me for forgetting to do something

I'm pretty sure I could live without you, but I sure as hell have no inclination to try

2006-11-27T12:34:00.000Z

What I love about Naija Guys

I think of myself as an equal opportunity dater. My dad is Nigerian, my mum is Greek, I spent my childhood in Nigeria, spent my summers in Greece, lived my adult life in England; four years of those spent in Wales where I went to university. Oh, and I spent a semester in Canada. My point is, I've spent my life experiencing different countries and I've been immersed in lots of different cultures and I'm being totally and completely honest when I say that race isn't an issue in the people I meet, or in guys I like. I've dated English guys, I've dated Nigerian guys, I went out with an Indian guy for four months and my friend and I had the biggest crush on a Japanese guy in one of our classes. Really, truly, neither race nor colour is an issue for me.

Now Nigerian guys get a lot of bad press (and I have to admit I'm responsible for at least some of it!), but I think it's very possible that I'll end up with a Nigerian guy. Maybe it's because I spent my formative years around them, as much as there is that I don't like about Naija guys, there's a lot I’m very attracted to. So in the spirit of looking on the bright side and weighing the positives, let me tell you what I love about Nigerian guys (NGs):

o Their persistence: There's an age old cliché that goes something along the lines of ’nothing worth having is ever easy to get' and nobody takes this to heart quite like our Naija brothers. If a NG decides that he likes you and no one else will do, then you're in for a long (often very fun) ride of numerous phone calls, interesting and varied chat up lines, whispers from mutual friends about how much he likes you and if you're lucky and all of this coincides with that one holiday of love a.k.a Valentines day, then you could really hit the jackpot! The point is, if they see something that they like, they will go for it and there's something to be said for that kind of work ethic. This also goes hand in had with their confidence. There's something extremely attractive about a guy that exudes confidence, it makes me want to find out what it is about him that makes him have such self-belief.

o Their ambition: Leading on from my previous point, I love the way NGs always aim for greatness; okay so their motivation is often great amounts of money and huge houses but what is important is that mediocrity is not an option. Probably the thing I find most attractive in a guy is ambition so this is a pretty big deal to me.

o They're very often great conversationalists. I have spent many a late night wrapped up in conversation with a NG. They also give a damn what is going on with you which is very refreshing in our me, me, me generation.

o They let you know that they like you, and how much. I was being 'toasted' by this guy when I was 14. He was older and very popular but he decided he liked me. Apparently once, before we started talking, he knew I'd be somewhere and even though he didn't have petrol in his car, he bribed a friend into giving him a lift so he could be there. And he'd call me just to tell me good night, even though he was with his boys and no doubt they would rag on him. I was fourteen and a good girl, he knew I wasn't going to do anything with him, he just genuinely liked me. Even now, so many years later, I won't settle for a guy who doesn't treat me well because as far as I'm concerned if someone once thought so much of me that they'd have done anything for me, then I deserve that. He's the standard by which I judge guys by now.

o If they have the means, they can be very generous.

Note: Not all NG possess all the qualities described above, so don't be popping your collar if you don't because I'm not talking about you!

2006-11-20T18:27:00.000Z

The Blogger formally known as 1982 - I stole this title from London Buki

I realised that I didn't have a reason for blogging under a pseudonym so I'm now using my real name; Vickii! So that person haunting your blogs and leaving comments is still me, just with a different name!

2006-11-20T14:38:00.000Z

Random Musing - Language vs. Story

A friend of mine is a writer and she often sends me her stories for my opinion. The other day, after telling her my opinion about a story she had written which I loved, she commented that she felt I often got too caught up by the story to give her a clear, objective and technical analysis of her writing. I'm obsessed with reading and extremely particular about grammar and language and all of that good stuff that I paid attention to in English class, but I realised that when it comes down to it, the story is more important to me than the skill of the writer.

That being said, I hate bad or sloppy writing and I'm constantly amazed by how many university graduates I know who cannot put together a decent sentence. But as long as the writing is of a good standard, then all I need is a good story to keep me happy. In fact, I'll go as far as to say the story is the most important element of any literary work. Much like clothes and people, the writing should accentuate the story and tell it in the most fitting way possible but it should never overshadow it.

For example, one of the many criticisms levelled at 'The DaVinci Code' was that it was badly written. I didn't notice because I was way too caught up in the story. And I am so in awe of JK Rowling's imagination that I honestly cannot comment on whether the Harry Potter books are well written or not because that is the last thing on my mind as I curse the tube for being unusually reliable and getting me to my stop on time thereby forcing me to put down her latest 800 page novel. But if I were to venture a guess, I'd say she's not the only billionaire author because she 'writes really well'. Zadie Smith on the other hand, is a technically amazing writer and while 'On Beauty' did grow on me eventually, let's just say I was more than happy to get to the end. There were several amazing sentences littered throughout the book, but I never got swept away by the story or really gave a damn about any of the characters.

This is just some very random musing on my part, and bear in mind that I want to be a book editor/ maybe author/ I am obsessed with reading when you wonder who in God's name muses about stuff like this!

2006-11-14T15:25:00.000Z

McNaughty

'You have one new voice mail message. Message received yesterday at 11:31 pm ... The lady who doesn't answer her phone. If you know who this is, call me back. Bye.'

Hmmm, of course I knew who it was, it was McNaughty. I didn't know he was in the country. Then again, I never know he is in the country until I get a voice mail message like this one. McNaughty is a guy I met last Christmas in Lagos. He is a friend of a friend and happened to live in the same estate that we were staying in. Everything about him screams bad news. He has a shaved head and a goatee, he's tall and he definitely has a presence. He's older than me, works in one of the oil companies and has ambitions on becoming President of the country one day. All of this is wrapped up in a very attractive package topped off with an arrogant swagger that seems to suggest he gets everything he wants.

I could tell he was attracted to me from the get go, and as I normally do when faced with guys like him, I wasn't having any of it! I was polite but not friendly, and declined a dance later when he asked me to dance. However over the next few days, we went to a lot of the same places and we ended up going out, just the two of us. I'm not going to say he isn't arrogant, or doesn't think he can have everything he wants, but there is a lot more to him than that. We saw each other more or less every day and just had fun, going to bars alone, going clubbing with friends, and just hanging out. We kissed but we never did anything more. In fact, one of the first things I said to him was 'I'm not sleeping with you, so don't waste your time if that's what you want'. I had so much fun that holiday and that was in part because of him.

The downside was I fell out with one of my friends over him because she thought he was bad news and he had a girlfriend. And even the mutual friend who introduced us told me to be wary of him. I found out a long time after that he did have a girlfriend but at the time, I had asked him and he told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't. As I tried to explain to my friends, I didn't need looking after. I was having fun with him because I knew I was only there for two weeks and once I left, that would be it. I knew that my friend's fears about him were valid but I knew I would never get involved with a guy like him in 'real life' and I was just having fun for a couple of weeks. The thing is, I know he liked me. Not just thought I was pretty, but actually liked me. He told me the night before I left, ‘I’m serious about you. I’ve spoken to you everyday for the last two weeks; I don’t do that with everyone.’

Surprisingly, he stayed in touch when I came back, and we called each other every once in a while and texted pretty often. In May, I got a call out of the blue from him saying he was in town and did I want to meet up? At the time, I was working two jobs and didn't have much time so I only had one evening to see him as he wasn't around for very long. We met up at a pub and just talked, him trying to put his arms round me and so on and me being very insistent that this was going to be a completely platonic meeting. At one point, I was saying I thought I would end up with somebody older than me and somebody that was outstanding in some way because I'd need to have enormous respect for him, when McNaughty looked at me and asked. 'So, where do I rank on this scale of someone you could see yourself with?' At first I tried to brush off the question because I didn't know what to say, but he was insistent so finally I admitted to him, ' you're not somebody I would end up with. I'd need to be with somebody who I believe can be faithful to me, and I don't think I could ever believe that about you'. He got very offended and tried to convince me that if he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with someone, then he would be faithful. The whole date was kind of surreal, he seemed to be trying to convince of another side to him, and I wasn't convinced, not because I don’t think he’s capable of being a good (honest and faithful) man, but because I’m not willing to be the one who finds out.

He didn't contact me after that. I'm not sure why but I assumed it was for the best. No calls, no texts, nothing. Until now and the voice mail, 6 months later.

I'm going to call him back.

2006-11-07T12:31:00.000Z

I Love Love Love Christmas

Warning: Do you think Christmas is an over rated holiday created by a capitalist society determined to exploit our consumerist nature and squeeze from us every ounce of spare cash we might have? Do you think we have forgotten the true meaning of Christmas? If you do, please stop reading now as this post is likely to offend you. You humbug!

I don’t think I’ve made this very clear but I love Christmas! And it’s not too early to start talking about Christmas. As far as I’m concerned, as soon as November hits, it is officially the Christmas season. And any true Christmas fan knows that the build up to Christmas is the best bit of all!

I love advent calendars and the fact that you have to wear gloves to keep your fingers from falling off. I love it when the shops start putting up their Christmas decorations and playing Christmas music. Not just carols but all the cheesy songs that would make you cringe at any other time of year! Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ for example. 'Last Christmas, I gave you my heart ... this year I'm saving my tears, I'll give it to someone special'. I love that everybody seems much happier too. I live in London where the most you can expect is a grunt from a stranger before they attempt to push past you, but at Christmas, people start smiling, they say ‘excuse me’ and (shock) start offering you the spare seat on the tube instead of sprinting over you in an attempt to get to it first. I usually walk into the office grinning broadly at this time of year, and if I start the day like that, nothing can spoil it for me!

I love the Christmas lights on Regent and Oxford Streets! I even loved them last year when they were rather tacky. I don’t even mind coming out of work at 5:30 to a pitch black night because the sight of the lights when I walk to the top of my road and turn the corner, makes it all worth it. I love stormy weekends cuddled under my duvet, I love Christmas movies even though they are rarely any good. I love them even more when they are great, like Love Actually! I even love the cold in winter. It's so crisp and fresh. Don't even get me started on snow! I love dressing up for work Christmas parties and dinners with friends. I love that miracles seem possible at Christmas.

Most of all, I love going home to spend Christmas with my family. This year, the last working day is Friday the 22nd and I’m going to be on the very next train home for four days of annoying family members, and Christmas morning anticipation. Gorging on chocolates and fruit cake for breakfast and spending the day in a flurry of sleeping, eating and playing board games like Articulate and Connect 4.

Did I mention, I LOVE CHRISTMAS!

Ps: Don’t bother leaving any comments telling me it’s too early to be excited about Christmas. I’m all for free speech but I’m banning all anti-Christmas sentiments from my blog!!!

2006-11-06T15:49:00.000Z

Show me your friends … Olivia and Bisola.

Ever heard that old saying, ‘show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are’? Or something like that. Anyway, the point is that your friends are a reflection of who you are. As a general rule, I don’t agree with that. Obviously, each of our friends appeal to a part of us but I think it is way too simplistic to say your friends are an identikit of you. Speaking for myself, none of my friends are anything like me, and there are times when I’ve wondered for the life of me why I am friends with certain people. So, below, I attempt to describe some of my friends and my relationships with them, please feel free to tell me what you think my friendships say about me.

Olivia: We met on our first day at university, lived together for two years and have stayed in touch in the three years since we graduated. We initially bonded over similar interests, we both loved pop music and had crushes on Eminem but over time we realised that we had a lot in common. I’m one of those people who has random thoughts and feelings that most people don’t understand but often, I would start to explain these to Olivia and she would finish off what I was trying to say; she knew exactly what I was feeling and was often feeling the same way. She’s also the one person I can have an amazing time with. If she’s in the right mood, then I can have the most fun with her. Also, if she’s in the right mood, I feel like I can tell her anything at all. The thing with Olivia is that she’s very self obsessed and it stems from insecurity. Odd because she’s one of the most beautiful girls I know. At university, you would see the recognition come across people’s faces when they were introduced to her because everyone had heard about her and how pretty she was. We went to NY together and she got asked to model and she had people coming up to her asking if she was an actress or a model because she looked like she was famous.

Because of her issues, I found she couldn’t be there for me if she felt she was dealing with something more important, and after a while I found that I didn’t feel like I could go to her if I was dealing with something. I often felt that we remained friends because she needed someone to listen to her and tell her what she needed to hear (which I’m particularly good at). One thing that would piss me off was having a conversation with Olivia that she wasn’t interested in. She would either not answer; she would simply not respond to what you said or what you asked or she would interrupt you and change the topic of conversation smack bang in the middle of whatever you were saying. After we finished uni, we went to NY together on holiday and it was the best and worst of Olivia all rolled into one. The first week was amazing but I spent most of the second week really annoyed at her. I decided in that week that there wasn’t any point in our being friends.

I stayed at our University to do an LLM and she moved to Russia for a while and I decided that I wouldn’t make any effort to continue our friendship because in the long run, I didn’t think she was a good friend to me. But she struggled those three months in Russia and I found I couldn’t cut her off when she was going through so much. We continued to talk and e-mail and at the moment we talk and see each other occasionally but I’ve found myself not actively trying to keep our friendship alive, and at the moment she has a boyfriend who she’s obsessed with so she’s not working at our friendship either so who knows, this could be it for us. If it is the end for us, I honestly feel like some parts of our friendship have been great and I don’t regret any of it for a second, but at the same time, I can’t say I’d be sad. And that’s what I find saddest of all.

Bisola: Bisola and I went to school together in Lagos for a year. We were part of a big group of friends and while we got along well, I wouldn’t say we were particularly close. I remember at the time I wished we were closer but I often felt I wasn’t popular enough, or cool enough or wild enough for her. After a year, I moved to England and less than a month after I arrived, I got a letter from Bisola and we continued to write each other for years after, during which she moved to Austria and then to the States. I still remember my surprise when I got that first letter from her. If you had asked me who I thought I would stay in touch with out of that group of friends, Bisola would have come in at maybe sixth or seventh on the list. As it was, I only really stayed in touch with her and one other girl who I’ll write about later.

We’re very different, Bisola and I. Apart from a mutual appreciation of fashion and certain writing ambitions, we’re not very similar at all, but somehow, it works. I’m not sure what role distance plays in our friendship … whether we’d be closer if we lived in the same country or whether our differences would have driven us apart by now. On the one hand, there’s a lot we haven’t experienced together (neither of us has seen the other drunk) but I can’t help thinking that means we haven’t had as many chances to piss each other off either. At the moment, we e-mail each other a lot and are both going to be in Nigeria at Christmas … a fact I’m so excited about I literally can’t wait!

On the whole, I’d definitely describe her as one of my best friends but also one of the people my age I most admire. She’s very driven and successful. She has accomplished more than anyone I know my age and she’s always trying to do more. At the moment, she’s the proud owner of a couple of properties, she’s writing a novel, currently mapping out ideas for a business book, organising a scholarship program for under privileged kids, trying to become a better photographer … oh and she has a full time job and a boyfriend!

There’s a lot more to write on my friends than I realised so I’ll continue this another time. In the meantime, I’m curious, am I the only one who has friends who are the complete opposite of me? What are your friends like?

2006-10-30T16:43:00.000Z

Idyllic Kaduna

I realised today that it has been a week since I posted something new on my blog and even worse, I couldn’t think of anything to write about nor did I feel like I gave enough of a damn about anything to actually blog about it. So I reached out to fellow blogger Noni Moss for some help. After a few rather unhelpful suggestions: Her: ‘Write about politics’. Me: ‘Erm okay, vague much?’ She e-mailed me this rather good suggestion: ‘You can blog about your experiences in Nigeria - North vs. South. Give us southerners and typical Lagosians an insight into life in the North that is otherwise a clouded stereotypical view of bush illiterate Northerners with no amenities’. After I had finished bristling at that description of the North, I laughed and started write, so thanks Noni Moss!

I’m not going to compare the North and South because they’re very different, and also, I only lived in the South (Lagos) for a year so I don’t think I could write an informed piece about what it is like to grow up there.

I was born in Kaduna and spent the next nine years of my life there. What did I like the most? Well for starters, I loved our house. It wasn’t the biggest house in the world, but it is the only house that my dad actually built (that I know of and that I lived in). It was a bungalow (my parents didn’t think steps were safe for children) that in itself was very quaint but the absolute best thing about that house was the garden. My dad was the first to build in that part of Kaduna and he had secured a huge piece of land. Our house could have fit into the garden about ten times. It had a gravel road leading from the gates to the garage and behind the garage were the boys’ quarters. We also had a chicken farm, a farm that my grand dad set up for us when he came to visit, a strawberry patch, a small vineyard and our absolute favourite to play in, two pagodas linked together. One of them had a bar and we had all our birthday parties in them. We also played in them incessantly and it was the first place all our friends wanted to go to when they came to our house. We also had four dogs; Stella, Lina, Peggy and Speaky and a cat; Jemaima in the years we lived there. Jemaima was a Siamese cat who had been castrated and as a result was enormous. We had taken her and Stella in from some British friends of my father’s who were moving back to England and she never ever liked anyone except my father. We never saw her except for when my dad came back from work. He would go to his room, take off his shoes, go and sit in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of him and one of the house girls would bring him his food. Then, and only then, would she come into the house and sit on his outstretched feet. And as soon as he finished eating, she would get up and leave the house to return the next day at the same time.

I loved that house!

But it wasn’t just the house I loved. Kaduna was a great place to grow up. We had so many opportunities I don’t know if we would have had if we had lived anywhere else. We took French lessons at Alliance Francais and had piano lessons down the road from there. We had Sunday lunch at the rugby club and had Karate lessons and ate suya at Kaduna Club. We took swimming lessons at Hamdala hotel and had English breakfasts with our favourite uncle at the Durbar hotel when he was in town. We watched my dad perform in ‘Oklahoma’ and ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves’ at the British Council. He was the peddler in one and the leader of the forty thieves in the other, if you’re interested. And we had so many amazing friends. Gosha and Danny, Susan, Samantha and Victoria, Sandra, Iko and Sylvia, all of whom we went to Essence International school with before my dad decided that the standard of education in private schools wasn’t up to scratch and sent us off to Air force school! Itohan, Ayo and Tunde, Isioma, Ogadi and Ngozi, Kaltume and Yakaka, Dili and Akalaka are all faces that made my childhood the amazing experience it was.

I know people talk about the North being backwards but I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment by any means. At the time, all the Northern factions of the embassies were based in Kaduna, Kano had an international airport, a cinema was built in Kaduna over 10 years ago and we had all the hypermarkets that are only just now springing up in Lagos.

I can’t possibly talk about my childhood without talking about Zaria. My Yaya and Papou (Grandma and Granddad) lived in Zaria and we spent all our school holidays there playing with the Greek boys that lived round the corner and eating my Yaya’s famous home-made ice cream while they marvelled at the fact that we would watch ‘The Sound of Music’ and ‘Oklahoma’ at least once a day everyday without getting bored. They had one house as well that stands out as being amazing to stay in. It had gorgeous rosebushes and a tire swing round the back. My Yaya is always telling us the story about how Papou was supposed to take us for dinner to our favourite Lebanese restaurant one evening and he came back really late from the farm so by the time he had a shower and drove us to the restaurant we were ravenous. Being the little impatient children we were, we filled up on the bread and hummus and by the time the main meal arrived (huge chicken kebabs if I remember correctly), we were stuffed and had even fallen asleep. Since we didn’t touch our food, my Yaya asked my Papou to ask the waiter to wrap it up so we could take it home with us. My Papou, being somewhat shy, didn’t want to say it was for the children so he said we wanted the left overs for the dogs. No harm, no foul … till the next afternoon when Yaya unwrapped the package in the fridge to serve it to three children and found out it was a pile of bones. I guess the poor people in the restaurant were like ‘Look at these yeye white people, they want to take good meat and feed it to their dogs, please jo, dogs eat bones!’

Anybody who knows me knows that I’m adamant that I’ll never ever move back to Nigeria. What they don’t know is that I’d move back in a heartbeat to Kaduna if it had remained exactly the same as it was when we grew up there.

2006-10-23T12:53:00.000Z

A Question of Colour

I was having a conversation with a couple of friends, I can’t remember for the life of me what we were talking about but I'm going to take a wild guess and say we (or I) was talking about how I never meet guys. One of them turned to me and said, 'please, like you have a problem meeting guys. I have seen the amount of attention you get from men'. I explained to her that because I'm mixed race, I do get attention from guys but it's only because of the colour of my skin. She was very surprised to hear this because she honestly never thought of it that way. My other friend who was there is very blessed in the chest area and she felt it was the same situation she was in, the first thing guys noticed about her were her breasts and she’d actually spoken to guys who she was sure had no idea what her face looked like because they were too busy drooling at her cleavage. We ended up getting into a conversation about how being 'fair skinned' is on par with having big boobs or a nice ass ... guys can't help but react to you.

I grew up in Kaduna where being light skinned was never really an issue as there are lots of inter-racial families and also many of the Hausa people are quite fair. We moved to Benin when I was about 10 and I went to boarding school there. Apart from the fact that the most popular boys and girls in the senior class instantly appointed themselves mine and my siblings’ school mothers and fathers, I didn't particularly feel like I stood out or that I got any excessive attention in my time there. It was when I moved to Lagos when I was 13 that it all began properly. I went to ISL for a year and I must have been chatted up by no less than 6 boys on my very first day at the school, everybody knew who I was and I honestly can't count the number of times Uni Lag boys would drive by after school and park their cars down the road and either beckon me over to try and talk to me, or send another student to give me a message. I remember one sports day, this boy and his friend followed me around the entire evening, I mean they literally walked behind me for the entire time I was there. It wasn't just the guys though. I became a bit of an enigma amongst girls of QC as well. It started off with them not liking me because they thought I had stolen a QC girl's boyfriend even though I don’t do guys with girlfriends. This girl was very popular so the SS1 girls decided en masse that they hated me and during their Interhouse sports day, it was rumoured that they had bought water pistols and were going to spray me with them if I dared to show my face. Fast forward to a few months later, I met a cousin of mine for the first time who happened to be in my year at QC, she asked about the whole thing, I told her what happened and she made it her mission to clear my name at QC. Because they had hated me for several months and they now realised that I hadn't actually stolen this girl’s boyfriend, they became friendly instead. I remember going to this party once, and we were standing around outside for a while when my friends and I decided to go for a walk. A friend of mine called to me saying, 'hey B, wait up!' when I heard one of the QC girls also hanging around say, 'Is that B, is that B? Oh my God, I can't believe we are at the same party and we haven’t even talked.’ Lol ... I still smile about that now. A male friend of mine revealed to me a couple of years ago that there was a bet going round amongst some ISL boys about who would date me first. To drive my point home, let me explain that at that time, I was painfully shy around people I didn’t know, I didn't go to parties that much, nor did I go out with any of the bad/popular boys (parties and dating/’cutting show’ with the bad boys were usually the determining factor as to how popular a girl was). Basically, I became as popular and/or notorious as I did because of the fact that I was mixed race.

Now I'm not saying that the colour of my skin is the only thing about me that guys find attractive. I scrub up pretty well but when it comes down to it, while I know I'm hot, I'm also very aware that I'm not that hot. My skin colour is definitely a defining factor. Though I've been told that it's not just about skin colour but the whole package that comes along with mixed race girls like long hair.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about it and I've accepted that it is the way it is. I'm just curious about why it is this way. And before anyone even thinks of leaving a comment along the lines of ‘please jare, like you don’t like all the attention. Ptcheew.’ Let me point out that I am that rare breed of girl who actually doesn’t like attention. At least not from anyone I don’t actually give a damn about, and random guys hitting on me on the street definitely fall into this category. Also as a girl, I would say the chances of any guy hitting on you being slightly dateable is about 50:50 so how come in my entire 12 years of being hit on, I’ve only ever come across like 3 halfway decent guys? In my opinion, there are very few advantages to getting lots of attention.

Anyway, back to the point of this post, I'm curious about why it is this way. A guy I was seeing once had a well documented attraction for light-skinned girls and his response was that we were different and that's why he was attracted to us. Why do guys like light skinned girls? Let's flip the script as well because I know a few girls who just can't resist a mixed race guy. So girls, why do you like light skinned guys? And is being attracted to fair girls/guys the same as liking girls with big boobs/asses and guys with dimples/muscles?

2006-10-18T16:34:00.000Z

I Miss having Someone

I miss having someone

Someone who doesn’t have to find me interesting, or find me funny, or even care what I think
And yet he is fascinated by everything I say, and he can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes him every time I make a joke, and he always wants to know my opinion

I miss having someone

Someone who I think I’ve told everything to, and yet he finds new ways to learn even more
Someone I spend hours talking to on the phone and then curse in jest as I fall asleep at my desk
Someone who can make a grasp of my hand feel like the most illicit thrill of all
Someone who can make my entire night simply by being in the same room

I miss having someone
I miss holding hands
I miss kissing
I miss the naughty touching

I miss having someone who can always figure me out, even when I really don’t want him to
I miss having someone who knows all my dreams and fears even better than I do
I miss having someone who knows when to give me my space, and when to hold me so close I feel like he might never let go

I miss having someone

And then I ask myself, ‘how can I miss something I never had?’

2006-10-13T10:36:00.000Z

Me v. Olawunmi: A little matter about a pre-nup.

I was out a couple of months ago for a friend’s leaving do. It was at a lovely bar; all white sofas and overpriced cocktails. In the corner was a huge TV screen and glued to it, (like a certain someone that night to her GQ cocktails) was a fellow blogger, and a very good one at that; Olawunmi. We fumbled through a conversation during which I must have made the terrible faux pas of commenting on his watching a game on a night out, when he turned to me just long to say: 'Have you read my blog on pre-nups. I'm having a clause included saying that my wife will have to allow me to watch all and any sports on TV in peace'. Can I point out here that his team wasn't even playing, though apparently, that is completely irrelevant as guys are capable of being extremely interested in any football game, regardless of who is playing. As a relatively new convert to Olawunmi's fascinating and incredibly well-written blog, I had been catching up on previous entries and had not come across said post yet.

So I was at work, kinda bored and I decided to dig into his blog archives and guess what I find? The infamous blog entitled 'I am going to get lynched for this'. Now, I know from the number of comments left by other women that I'm not the only one who has something to say about this, so here goes ...

I don’t normally agree with pre-nups. At least not the kind protecting somebody’s wealth or guaranteeing that a party benefits if the marriage fails. I’m not going to marry anybody who truly believes that I’ll try and take him for all he’s worth if we split up. I also wouldn’t marry somebody if I felt they would squeeze me dry given half a chance. Call me naïve, but I’d much rather be proven wrong time and again than never have that faith in the person I marry in the first place. I do however, find the concept of a pre-nup protecting certain relationship ‘rights’ intriguing. What follows is not so much my pre-nup but rather a reply to Olawunmi’s conditions which I think are probably typical of the average guys’.

One question first. Why is divorce such a dirty word? I hope and pray when I get married, it is for ever but you know what, shit happens. I believe in trying to make it work and I hate to see couples who have not yet tried everything else resort to divorce. On the other hand though, everyone has some limits; some things that they just won't put up with and I don't think there's any harm in making these known. Mine are infidelity and my husband hitting me. Everything else we'll work through. At least the man that marries me will know that if he cheats, and I find out, then it's over. It's not like I didn't warn him and he can't say he didn’t know what would happen if he got caught. Likewise, I would like to know what his deal breaker is, so I can do everything in my power to avoid committing it.

TV rights, my husband will be more than welcome to. But I will be insisting on a second (equally flash and expensive) TV for myself where I can watch my ‘24’, ‘Sex and the City’ and ‘Lost’ in peace. And it better be hooked up to Sky+ as well! If however, he happens to like some of the same shows as me, and it's that time every four years when the World cup is on and I actually care about football, then there's no harm in letting me cuddle up on our comfy sofa with him so we can actually get some couple time together. My future husband, please note that we'll both be busy professionals who are unlikely to have much ahem, 'personal time' together during the week, so if you'd rather spend your weekends in front of the TV, rather than in bed with me, then that's your prerogative, just don't let me hear you complaining about how you don’t get any! And please don't use the whole 'At least you know where I am. Would you rather I was out with my boys?' justification for your sports addiction. I don't care if you go out with your boys. You might as well go out with your boys for all the attention I'll get from you when there’s football on. In fact, I insist you go out with your boys, because I'm going to be making time for my girls. I'm a firm believer in having time apart from each other as well as time together .This brings me nicely to my next point.

I insist on some quality time together. We should try as much as possible to have dinner together and maybe have date night where it's just the two of us doing what we did in the beginning. A chance for me to get dolled up for him and to be treated like a princess again (though I’ve never dated a guy who treated me like a princess in the first place, hmm). Speaking of dinner; the food issue is a big one for me. Actually, the whole home maker issue is huge. While I can cook and clean with the best of them, I have every intention of working full-time and cannot see the logic of leaving the house and returning at the same time as my husband, and then he goes to put his feet up in front of whatever sporting event is on, while I slave away in the kitchen to cook dinner, and then wash up after while he catches the highlights of the very same game he watched earlier! No, no, no. It is not happening! We will split the work 50-50. Yes, you heard me, 50 -50! We will take it in turns to do all cooking and other housework! Before the lynch mob turns its attention to me, let me explain. He doesn't actually have to cook. He can order take away, hire a cook, take us out for dinner, I really don't mind. As long as there is food on the table when it is his turn to provide food, we will have no problems. If I go hungry however, that is a whole different matter; and I will not be held accountable for my actions.

Honey, have your toys as long as I can have mine. This will come as no surprise but my toys include shoes, bags and lots of clothes and in the interest of my husband's sanity and my safety (as Olawunmi so eloquently put it), I will have perfected the art of hiding new purchases as well as all evidence that might incriminate me. And when I wear that insanely beautiful Roland Mouret dress (no copies because we'll be able to afford the real thing) for dinner with him and he comments on how sexy it looks; I'll say with very real conviction: ' This old thing? Thank you baby. I must have lost weight since I bought it all those years ago which is why it fits so well'.

Finally, on the issue of video hos; sorry, I mean the 'works of art' flaunted on MTV Base. Please, he should watch to his heart's content. I have to admit to a certain fondness for Keifer Sutherland and Michael Ealy so all's fair in love and TV totty. As long as we don't compare each other or make each other feel insecure, then I think it's actually healthy to be able to 'appreciate' the female or male form in front of your partner.

I don't think I have been unreasonable ... so, what's the verdict? Am I resigned to a life alone?

2006-10-09T14:02:00.000Z

A Random Thought I woke up with this morning

I have no idea why, but this morning I woke up thinking about people that put you down or constantly try and enter into competition with you.

I don’t know why I woke up with this thought because my brain doesn’t usually work in the mornings (why else would I have woken up one random morning singing ‘Ice Ice baby? ) and I have no idea why on this particular morning because I’m exhausted and feel fluey and even though it’s now 14:27pm, my brain still isn’t working.

Anyway, back to this thought of mine. I got to thinking about competitive friends with one particular friend in mind. As an aside, I realised while I was thinking about this that I don’t have many friends who I feel are competitive towards me so for that, I should be grateful. This friend of mine is absolutely lovely and while she is competitive and very successful by nature, it’s not something that is normally a feature of our relationship. However every once in a while, she’ll make some comment. Sometimes it’s as random a comment as ‘your laptop must be really old, it’s so much heavier than mine even though it is much smaller. Mine must be much better.’ and on that occasion I actually called her on it and said, ‘Yes, my laptop is old and your laptop is better but so what? Why do you feel the need to point it out? Are we having some laptop competition I am oblivious to?’ Often though, it comes up in reference to this pasta dish I gave her the recipe for and taught her how to make. Now she makes it very often and is sure to point out every time I make it, that hers tastes different (read better) and when she makes it amongst people who have tried both mine and hers, she’s makes a point of asking them which one is better. Now this isn’t a big deal at all, and it doesn’t bother me but it occurred to me yesterday that maybe it should. Because the problem with competition is that it is never friendly. Competition implies a winner and a loser and anyone who instigates conscious competition, does it with the intention of winning and hence proving their competition to be a loser. And this is what I have a problem with, someone trying to prove me to be a loser … why do they feel the need to do that? Please note that my problem isn’t with the fact that I can lose. I am not great at everything. In fact, I am bad at a lot of stuff.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I would never ever do the same to her or anyone else. If she truly believes her pasta dish is better, why does she need me to know it before she can be happy about it? Surely, the fact that it’s better should give her enough satisfaction. Hence my previous point, she only feels good about that particular achievement after she has made me feel bad. I know it seems trivial talking about food and I admit the whole thing is rather silly which is why I would never even bring it up with her. But to make my point, let’s talk about war. In the days of bloody wars complete with raping and pillaging, surely the fact that the winner had now acquired the losing territory was enough victory. For them to go to their prisons and start to tell their captives details of what they had done with their land and women would be low by any standard.

Now I am as competitive as the next person but honestly truly, it’s only with myself. I don’t give a damn how badly someone else is doing at work or how much they have let themselves go or how many failed relationships they have had because it doesn't make me better at my job, relationships or taking care of myself. In fact, it doesn't reflect on me in anyway. I am my own toughest critic and if I am not happy with myself or the state of my life, I know that I can only fix it from within. Whether I feel good or bad about myself however, I can only ever feel happy for other people’s successes.

Basically, I came to the conclusion that, I shouldn’t be offended by people putting me down, instead I should feel flattered that they feel the need to put themselves in the same competition as me.

2006-10-05T10:32:00.000Z

I love this girl’s blog … painfully honest, extremely insightful and very funny at times. So in response to Overwhelmed Naija Babe’s tag, here goes:

‘Me’ in 80 Sentences

My favourite food is Thai green chicken curry. My favourite type of food is Thai, or maybe Caribbean, no, definitely Nigerian, or Greek, hmm I do love Italian. I can be indecisive. I’m 5’4” and a bit. People think I’m smaller. I’ve read more books than anyone else I know. Reading isn’t as much of a pleasure as is used to be. I wish James Patterson would take the time and write only really great thrillers like he used to, instead of churning out five mediocre books a year. I’ll only commit to watching a film if I think I’ll like it. I can’t help thinking that 2 hours is a long time to never get back. I’ll never walk out of a film I don’t like, no matter how boring it is. The only book I have never finished is ‘Perfume’. I have watched ‘The notebook’ about 25 times. I get shivers down my spine every time. I speak Greek. I wish I spoke Spanish. It’s a sexy language. I want to have twins; a boy and a girl. My favourite perfume is Stella McCartney’s Stella. It used to be Estee Lauder’s Pleasures. I desperately want to learn how to surf. I love the ocean. It could be because I’m a Pisces. I love cooking. I hate cleaning but I’m obsessively clean. I hate shopping but I love clothes. I hate the sales but I like a bargain.

I’m always making lists. I think Helena Christiansen is the most beautiful woman in the world. Sexiest man is a toss up between Josh Hartnett and my new favourite guy Wentworth Miller. I like my bum and hate my hips. I like my hair but hate my skin. I think I’m a good person. I think most people consider me to be a good person. My biggest flaw is that I hold other people to the same high standards I expect from myself. Most people would agree. I make the best chocolate brownies in the world. I shared the recipe with my sister and cousin so I guess they make pretty good brownies too. I would love to adopt an Indonesian baby. I have two tattoos. I’ll probably get more. My mum understands me more than anybody else. I thank God everyday for my family because they’re pretty amazing. I don’t go to church as much as I should. I’m making the effort to go more. I wish I could play the guitar. My longest relationship lasted 4 months. It shouldn’t have lasted more than 4 days. I wish I had half as much imagination as JK Rowling does.

I can’t imagine my life without the music of Michelle Branch, Lene Marlin, Boyz II Men, Lionel Richie, Bryan Adams, Damien Rice, Dru Hill and Christina Aguilera. I want to be a book editor when I grow up. I never wanted to be rich. My favourite city in the whole wide world is New York. If I could go anywhere tomorrow, it would be Hawaii. I’m not scared of spiders. I’m terrified of snakes. I have a recurring nightmare that the day before my wedding I realise I’m not in love with my fiancée and I don’t want to marry him. I wait until the wedding day to tell him. I think I might have issues with commitment. I wish I didn’t have issues with commitment. I’m very sarcastic. I can’t help it. I don’t think I’ve ever had a best friend. I don’t mind that I’ve never had a best friend. I don’t wear yellow gold. I cry when I am frustrated. Funnily enough, the only other time I cry is when I’m faced with examples of basic human decency. I always wear trainers. I love that I grew up in Nigeria. I had an amazing childhood. I’ve never been in love.

I really wish Sex and the City hadn’t finished. Grey’s anatomy is good compensation. What about Friends? There’s nothing to compensate for Friends. I read too many magazines. I’ve got my mum addicted to magazines. I like baking even more than I like cooking. I once dated an Indian boy. I wish I could take good photographs. I don’t swear. I have never seen any of the Lord of the Rings or Star Wars movies.

2006-10-01T18:27:00.000Z

What is your deal breaker?

Can you remember your biggest crush? That person who’d make your day simply by smiling at you. That person who had the ability to incite several hours of conversations with your friends simply by saying hello. ‘He said hi! (Cue high pitched voice and irrational excitement), what do you think he meant by that?’ So imagine that your wildest dreams came true and you got together, what would it take for you to end it? For you to decide that he isn’t the stuff of dreams after all?

I was kinda awkward in my first year of university. I can’t stay I had my style or look sorted yet, and I had taken the plunge just before I started and cut my hair short. Yup, I was awkward to say the least. This guy called Chris lived in the halls of residence next to mine and unlike me, he seemed to know exactly who he was and what he was about. He was tall and lanky, with very dark hair and the most piercing blue eyes. He had the whole surf style going on for him and the most genuine smile. Long story short, my friend told him I thought he was cute and we would smile and say hi to each other. I had the biggest, hugest crush on him. Not only was he gorgeous but he was so nice. However, like most crushes, we didn’t get past a few hi’s that year and I didn’t see him much in my second year.

In my third year, I spent the first semester on an exchange program in Victoria, Canada and came back in my second semester. My sister said to me almost as soon as I got back, ‘this really hot guy that looks just like Freddie Prinze Jnr. thought I was you. Then when I told him I wasn’t, he was asking all about you’. Now, I didn’t think for one second about Chris because honestly, I hadn’t thought about him in over a year. I no longer had a crush on him. A couple of nights later, I went out and Chris came up to me and started chatting to me … I was in seventh heaven. I wasn’t seeing anyone, and all the memories of my greatest ever crush came flooding back. He was still gorgeous, and now I was finding out that he was also funny and smart and interesting and witty and generous (well, he did buy me several drinks). Towards the end of the night, after we’d danced and talked, he said to me, ‘I’d love to kiss you’ and naturally I obliged.

That’s when it all went downhill … he couldn’t kiss if his life depended on it! Now I know that brings up questions like ‘what makes someone a good or a bad kisser?’ Well, first of all, I’ve been told and I know that I’m an amazing kisser, so if I’m not enjoying a kiss then I know it’s not me! Let me try and describe the way he kissed. He went for it with a lot of zeal and put his entire tongue in my mouth with no rhyme or technique to it. It was like kissing a washing machine! Now before I’m accused of being shallow, we met up a few more times and each time we kissed, I would cross my fingers and toes and hope that his technique had improved since we last kissed. I was so desperate that I wouldn’t have given a damn about how he had learned to kiss. No such luck though!

I love kissing, and for me, it’s the most physical I’m going to be getting for a while so it has to be good! I can spend hours kissing somebody I love kissing. Besides, if he can’t kiss, it doesn’t bode well for any future physical relationship. And I really wasn’t in the mood to teach a 21 year old how to kiss so needless to say it ended before it began. Even though he was perfect in every other way.

So, I guess my deal breaker is a bad kisser. What’s yours?

2006-09-28T16:16:00.000Z

Some Girls…

So, you know those girls right? The type who has been in a relationship since they discovered the opposite sex at the age of 12 - Yes, I know for some it was much earlier than that but for the sake of decency; we'll stick with 12. Anyway, they're now in their mid-twenties or nudging at their late twenties and they've been in at least four long term relationships, had countless flings and have 'been in love' God-knows-how-many times? You know the type; they find themselves alone for barely a couple of months in between relationships and complain that they feel lonely; 'after all what's the point of all the great experiences in life if you don't have anyone to share them with?' We're all friends with the type; we only hear from them when they've broken up with the most recent 'love of their life' and as soon as they meet their next 'soul mate', we're discarded to the furthest depths of their memories' along with winter clothes in the summer, feather boas and ugly shoes, except of course those items are aired more frequently than our friendship is. We all know the type. My question is; when did 'that type' become the norm???

I'm 24; I've had 3 relationships; none of them meaningful and none of them lasting very long. I just don't meet that many guys that make me want to give up my freedom. And why is that so unusual? I thought that the whole point of love is that it's supposed to be rare and hence; special. I'm still young, I have my entire life to settle down. I've had a few flings; some of them ill-advised attempts at making something out of nothing and others a genuine appreciation of time spent with someone with whom a relationship would never work. That doesn't make me easy ... in fact, I am anything but. I want to see the world and I'm more than happy to get going on my own, or with a few friends who I can stand to spend long amounts of time with. I want to be great at whatever I decide to do, I don't mind that I'm not one hundred percent sure what that is and most of all I like the freedom I believe I have earned. The freedom to be and do and say whatever the hell I like for no other reason other than the happiness it bestows upon the cockles of my heart.

Now I know this is the point at which some women reading will be shaking their heads, feeling sorry for me and thinking: 'She is too selfish and if she is not careful, then she will become set in her ways and then (shock) never get a man". The guys who are reading probably think I'm a player and sound like a bit of a good time girl. Well, to those people, I want to say I'm single by choice. I get a lot of relationship offers and here's a secret; guys actually like girls who don't depend on them for their very existence. I'll also have you know that I have every intention of settling down and I'm happy to admit I want children and all that good stuff but what is the rush?! I truly believe that for better or worse, one day I'm going to meet somebody who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with and as I have every intention of living for a very long time (God willing), I repeat; What is the rush?

What really puzzles me is when 'those girls' became the norm and I became the radical? Those girls who I at best pity and at worst, want to shake and tell to stop being so pathetic, are now everywhere and I can't figure when it happened. Is it age? Is it something that is lying stagnant in all of us women waiting to be activated by some traumatic event like your younger sister getting married before you? (Please, please note the sarcasm with which that sentence was meant). Is it life experience? Is life really better as part of a twosome and am I just deluding myself into believing I am happy? Or is it that really, truly, every singleton only pretends to be like me until they find a man and thereby become a part of the privileged club that 'they' belong to?

Well they can have their precious club and everything that goes with it. I have no desire to become a card carrying member of the ‘I'm-a-mere-shell-of-a-woman-without-a-man’ posse. I'm just going to enjoy whatever is in store for me for now and let tomorrow (and hence potential man and child issues) take care of itself.

Notes

1. In the interest of fairness, I know a lot of men are just as bad. If you know any, please feel free to name and shame them but I personally haven't come across many.
2. For the guys, I don't hate men. I like men, I enjoy the company of men, I love having conversations with some men, I one day hope to settle down with a man and have his twins and spend the rest of my life with him etc; I don't however, need men/ a man.
3. For the women, I'm not against your having boyfriends/ meeting an amazing guy/ settling down nor am I jealous of any of the above. I am happy for you! All I'm saying is there is a lot more to you than being somebody's girlfriend/wife and you should enjoy being by yourself if you find yourself in that situation. After all, no man will ever love / respect/ know you like you deserve to be if you don't first love/ respect/ know yourself.

Photo

2006-02-06T14:20:00.000Z

I Love Noni Moss :-D