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

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.

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!

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.

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.'

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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!!!

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!

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.

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

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!

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!

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!

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.

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!!!

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?