Because I'm trying to perfect the art of overanalysis

Do you ever get the feeling that something simply wasn't meant to be? That you've put so much effort into something that ought to be easy, yet it is still is too hard to make it work

There is this friend I've had forever, I've known her since primary school. Of course, the older I get, the more my brain rewrites history ( as can be seen from my last post) and nothing seems to make sense ( I swear, I won't be surprised to find out tomorrow that we did not, in fact, go to the same primary school. Anywho, I digress [I love that phrase, but I digress yet again *wink*])We went to primary school together and we were essentially in the same circles ( I remember her a bit less than I remember Tope Om.ole, my then best friend who is (and, as I understand, has always been) her best friend (so I guess my mind doesn't deceive me when I say we were pretty damn cool in primary school) . Like 50% of the Nigerian populace, I skipped primary 6 ans went to secondary school, while all my buddies stayed and finished. As fate would have it, she ended up at my secondary school and, but you know how we naija's are, she was a year my junior, so no beef, but time and circumstance turned us into "hi/hello" friends. We went in such divergent directions that I only found out a year or 2 ago that she left at the end of ss1 ( I graduated 7 years ago).

Well, life happens and we wind up in the same state in college. We keep bumping into each other and swearing to call each other, but never get around to it. A couple years ago she cussed me out at one of out annual "bumpings" and and I guess we both decided to be real with it and call each other and hang out.

Fast forward another 3 years and I'm just exhausted. I love her and I'm sure she loves me too but phone tag is a bitch. She had some personal drama and and would randomly have her phone not accept calls (which drove me insane). I'd call and not be able to leave a message , but it would seem like I never called since her phone wouldn't take any calls anyway. Or there is her uncanny ability to call me when I can't talk (isn't it cute how I'm painting this to be all her fault??) . About once every 2 months, one of us gets hold of the other and starts an accusation or apology, then we try to catch up, but its so disjointed, so detail free because there is no continuous time we experience together for life to happen and for us to narrate to each other as it happens.

She sent me a facebook message the other day and I just hmmphed with annoyance and closed the page, then I thought about it. Hell, I hadn't made a huge effort either. So I hit reply and and said "glad you're alive". I was tempted to add "this is too hard. I promise I wont hate you if you stopped trying", but that would be a lie. I'd be hurt.

I thought friendship was supposed to be effortless. you think of difficult friendships and you think of those wrought with arguments. This is falling apart from neglect. And don't get me wrong, I think she is an amazing woman, that is why I've struggled for so long, but I have no clue what to do to make it easier. Maybe it will simplify itself when I graduate and our schedules become simpler. I should call her today.

But watch me get the message "at the subscribers request, this number is not taking any calls."

Eyes Wide Shut

I feel the need to preface this with a disclaimer, because, even to my eyes, it seems very "in love/like". It isn't. It is a slightly poetic description of a flawed friendship, complicated by something that happened that felt so nice that I'm having difficulty reminding myself that having this person as a friend is more important than "just one more time" that will probably eliminate any leftover shards of the easy (or was it?) camaraderie that once existed. The problem is that my head is slowly altering the memories so that I come to a point where I think "fuck it, we weren't really friends anyway, and in 5 weeks, I'll never see him again", or " I like you better when we're making out anyway". On the other hand , I truly think I miss him, but I'm wondering if all the whining about missing my buddy and mourning the loss of a great friendship is a figment of my imagination too. I might be creating false memories of a close connection to give myself and excuse to want to escape the awkwardness, when in reality, its just my hormones speaking.

Keeping my Eyes Closed
I don't know what I want.
I look at you and wonder
How did it feel so good?
Skinny lips, chipped tooth,
But when my eyes are closed
And I cant see who I'm with
I'm with you, with
a perfect mouth, perfect words
Laughter that makes me pause and absorb. The Timbre
of your voice that makes me exclaim out loud to myself how much
I like your voice. I open my eyes and you
make very little sense.
You say stupid things that make me wonder what I'm thinking. You call me "silly girl" and I feel like you ran your nails across a chalkboard.
You see my imperfections and I am ashamed. No, not ashamed, angry. Angry, not because I didn't know they were there. Angry because you see them and too tactless to ignore them.
My eyes are open and I am annoyed by you, for always having to dismiss me. Annoyed at your way of saynig the last word and running away before I can counter. Annoyed because you know I like to be the dismisser, and you have robbed me of my little selfish, childish joy.
Then I close my eyes again and you make me laugh over and over. You remind me of what being carefree was about. You make me giggle and blush with the unorthodox things about me that impress you because you are able to be impressed without using those condescending words. My eyes are closed as you sing my praises to everyone who will sit still long enough to listen. And while my eyes are closed, I enjoy you more. I enjoy your silliness, your random weirdnesses. While my eyes are closed, I revel in your youth, your dreams for who you want to be, your creativity, the ardor with which you want to fly.
And so I keep my eyes closed so I can blot out the pranks, the WTF moments, the I-want-to-punch-you moments, the moments I want to slap myself for allowing the "disrespect", the dismissals.

My eyes are open now, but I long to shut them again, so I can pretend the world only exists in darkened dormrooms with butterfly kisses that make you ask me what I'm looking at.

Its on the Hush, Only You and I will Know

I've been wondering, why is secrecy about sex such a big deal?

I mean, you have 2 consenting adults, neither in an exclusive relationship ( with each other or anyone else) doing what adults do, but it has to be on the DL?

I have a couple theories, but none of them hold much water. There is the idea that the girl doesnt want to look like a "slut" and so would rather people didn't know she was getting some on the regular. Fair. Except, most songs talking about "no one has to know" are by men.

How in the Hell

Is today just Monday? I feel like its thurdsay. This is what happens when you literally party all weekend and get out of bed before bed each day with no naps in between.

Teehee. I sound like an old woman.

Screw everything, after this test, I'm going home to pass out.

I think we might be on out way to being cool again. We'll see what happens.

Wistful

I miss everyone. I got back from Miami, wilded out all week ( the party started Thursday and ended tonight) and it hit me. Its over.

I'm gone come May.

Friday night was amazing. I went out in an itty bitty dress (Beyonce, as much as I hate to admit it, was right about that dress) and got enough "Daaaaayum's" and double takes to last me the rest of the semester. And, of course, the attention didn't do much for my decision to behave myself. It was a blast though.

Tonight was more special. Everyone came out and I saw everyone and saw oh so clearly exactly why I'm going to miss absolutely every last one of them.

From Mr. Nigeria with his "I'm going to DO that girl men!!" and the flip to a serious conversation about reality in the next sentence to Femi Kuti and his dance floor antics. From Ikenna and his "always on time"-ness to Ek.eh and how adorable he is when he is trying to act grown. I saw Warm Body and it hit me how much I missed they day we met when we sat there and chilled for the entire day. I fucked up. I should have let things be the way they were and had someone I could sit with and shoot the shit for 9 straight hours.

Ov.ie and I had a funny moment.
I asked him what he was doing later. I meant graduation. He thought I meant after the party so he said he was going to pass out in his bed from exhaustion. I said that was nice, but it wasn't what i meant. The look on his face was worth money. Even funnier was how I sharply denied any underhanded intentions and his mock hurt. I'll miss his smile when I tease him about being hot.

I'm done. I have another exam to fail on Monday. Screwed is the understatement of the century.

I'm seriously going to miss this place. Everyone is going to think I'm crazy with my pre-emptive I miss you's.

Superman

Its been a shitty week. More on that later.

In other news, I met Robin Thicke yesterday.

And no, "Robin Thicke" is not a pseudonym for some random new crush/friend. He kissed me on the cheek and asked a bouncer to take a picture of us.

Maybe more on the shitty week now. I'm horribly sad. I'm in Miami, Florida with a couple friends who insist on complaining about their weight ever 30 seconds (by the way, they are both absolutely gorgeous, even if they don't look anorexic) and calling me "barbie" and gasping "she's so skinny!!!" at every thin girl girl that goes by like its a good thing.

My sister said it best. "You can't be smart, beautiful and confident all at the same time."

By the way, I got here on friday. I still don't have my luggage. I'm tired of borrowed shit, and target underwear and grasy skin and going clubbing in clothes I wouldn't be caught dead in outside my apartment and girls who just cannot see how uncomfortable I am.

I'm not asking that we not go to South Beach, and I'm not mad that people keep cat-calling at you because you look fabulous. Heck, if it were me, I'd revel in it too. Sometimes, its that ego-boost you need. What I do not like is the "Tori, that was all you" when we all know I look like shit, and he practically said your name when he was trying to get your attention. Or when the 8th guy has asked for your number at the end of the night, you say on the ride home "Tori, you were on FIRE tonight, girl" when we all know I looked like shit, and no one looked at me (with good reason, and I honestly could care less if they did, but I'd rather not have to deal with the false modesty).

Ah, well, I met Robin Thicke, and he was a sweetheart. Back to the boonies next Tuesday.

Someone please pray this gets better.

So My Laptop Died.

Fan gave up the ghost two days ago and I had to send it back to Dell to be fixed. you's think I'd be totally depressed and crying in a corner of my room laying in the foetal position (yes, playing with my laptop is better than sex) , but guess what? I'm HAPPY.

Spring break starts friday, the weather was BEAUTIFUL yesterday.

Okay the school lunatic is sitting in front of me acting a fool. I just lost my blog-jo. *smh*

I'm off to class.

I succumbed

and sent him an email.

He didn't respond.

Why am I not surprised?

I think its hilarious how, in a year, I'm not going to have any idea who this is considering that I don't have a name for this particular "him".

This is me tippping my 40 to his memory and wishing him all the best. He was an amazing friend, and I made many great memories. I just need a new "random-boy-question" friend.

I Messed Up

and lost a friend.

And I can't even front and act like it wasn't my fault. I knew it was a bad decision anyway, but I went ahead and eternally eliminated a source of laughter from my life. First time I met him, We hung out for the ENTIRE day, he was that much fun. Me, him and his lunatic buddy. It was a blast. We talked about absolutely everything. Hell, I even tried to sell him John Mayer ( I don't think he bought it, but that's okay...tomorrow is another day...well, the point of this blog is that there is no tomorrow, so bleh). And then I went and blew it.

Now things are all weird. He has been totally mature about the entire thing, but things are awkward. Before, with all my boys (I like to call all the guys here that I'm cool with "my boys"...its sorta fun to be the buddy/mother figure chick for cooks for you, laughs at your antics, gives you woman advice, yet parties with you...don't tell them I call them that sha.. It might not go down too well.) it was a crime not to give me a real hug when you see me, and if you mess around and not say hello properly, I will yell at you for it. Now I'm not sure if its allowed. We do the Stranger "hey wassup" and I'm scared to do my usual "na fight? Will you get over here and hug me PROPERLY" or fall into a bear hug lest it be misinterpreted. He is scared to do his usual messing with me on sight and go "ah ah, you're looking nice today, o, which man are you hunting" or "damn, your hair looks a little weird, you no try" (which used to irk me and win him a punch) lest it be misinterpreted.

It sucks. I even miss being mad at him for being tactless.

Nothing is worth losing camaraderie.

I finally cut off Mr. Nigeria for not having an excuse for us losing our buddyness. I don't even talk to Femi Kuti nearly as much as I used to, but i could care less. I am upset, on the other hand about Mr. Nigeria who used to call me to call me. We used to study together, fight all the time and just sit around and talk. He would talk to me about all kinds of things, who he slept with last night, who he really likes, his worries about school, everything, then suddenly....nothing.

I tried to call him to do lunch, dinner, study, anything, but he was always busy. At a point, I just called him and cussed him out , but still nothing. I finally gave up when he was there with me Friday night when I was drunk stupid and he didn't call the next day to see if I was okay.

Like hell, a good friend would have at least made sure I didn't end up in some strangers bed, but I didn't even get a call the NEXT DAY. Someone else who I don't even chill with like that called and I guess it hit me when he called and I didn't hear from Mr. Nigeria.

I decided I was beating a dead horse and I let it go. I saw him at the fashion show on Saturday, and I treated him how I treated everyone else. He came over to hug me (I guess I trained my boys right. *sigh*) and I told him I was mad he didn't call (in my usual jokey way). He mumbled something, but I let it go. I was done. He was a great memory from last semester.

He called me today to see how I was. Why do men not understand that it doesn't count if I had to tell you to do it? And why did you call today when there was no reason to be concerned about me? The point of the call Friday was CONCERN because I was being a damn fool.

*sigh*

I hate losing friends.

I Sorta Miss

my gay vampire.

I fucking hate it

when I'm fucking FINALLY getting over you then you fucking call. Why do you do this? I've gone through all the 4 stages of grief over you and I'm finally moving on with my life and doing my work again and I'm able to concentrate and you don't inhabit my every thought, then you call.

Why are you calling me?

YOU cut me off. You stopped returning calls. YOU acted like you never knew me and finally I'm accepting your grad assholery and not caring then you call and I re-cycle.

How do you know when I am getting over you? its like as soon as I spend a day not thinking about you, a becaon goes off somewhere in your head and and you destroy all my progress. if you walk away, stay away. Please.
For the sake of my sanity. I don't have the time to psychoanalyze everything you said or did with everyone all over again and try to make sense of it. I can't handle it. Please walk away. Clean breaks are sooo much healthier for us all.



*on behalf of a friend. She just got the call and I totally understand whats happening in her head and I can't help but sympathize. I've been through it too many times. *

The Freakin' Tony Rich Project

does insane things to my emotions. Actually, I think its just biology.

*smh* I'm hormonal again, but more on that later.

Huge spring break plans. I'm scared its going to be your classic vacation with friends and everyone is going to be mad by the time we get back. lol. And its hella long too. Leaving here Friday and I'm not getting back till midnight Tuesday, but I found out today AFTER I paid for my flight that I have a major prelim (actually, quite possibly the only exam for the entire class) on Wednesday, and another on Thursday. Of course, common sense prevails, and I try to change my plane ticket, but tickets are now $1,200. $1,200!!!! When I'm not flying to Nigeria? Madness. I'm so glad I bought mine last night, because I promise you, I paid less than a fifth of that! What if I waited one more day?

Well, for one thing, I would not be failing my prelim on Wednesday. And please don't tell me to study now in advance. It seems like the obvious solution, but of course I am quadruple booked with work and projects till spring break.

The weekend was a lot of fun. I have a pretty big project due Thursday, so since I obviously didn't feel like doing my work, I helped out at the Ghanaian banquet. It was a lot of fun even though I missed the entire banquet, and came inside only to dance at the end. Everyone was there.
Well, not everyone. Most people. The recent girls were both out of town and WB and his lunatic friend weren't there either. Femi Kuti gave me a ride home and I teased him about the Ambassadors daughter. I was completely exhausted afterward, but I really really wanted a drink. I need to start keeping alcohol at home. The boys were going out but I didn't feel like hanging out with them (not like they invited me anyway, but I would have shamelessly invited myself) I just wanted to sit at a quiet bar alone with a Georgia Peach in my hand and stare off into space. You know those kind of bars where there is loud music playing, but you can actually sit at the bar without being shoved aside by a drunk person ordering 14 shots and the bar isn't dripping wet? Yeah, that's what I call a quiet bar.

The day before at the talk by the Ghanaian Deputy ambassador, I suddenly had to fight back tears. And I mean fight. I have NO IDEA what was wrong. I just really wanted to bawl. Hilarity. I think I'm hormonal.

In other random ass news, I think I've been blocked on Messenger. *rolleyes*. So much for complication avoidance. Its my fault anyway. I knew I was making a stupid decision. Now I've lost the right to flirt shamelessly and have everyone understand it was meaningless. As always with me, it is quite possible that I'm imagining things, but we'll see.

Jaded

And I don't know why.

I haven't had any awful experiences. Well, I take that back. Awful is relative. But either way, my life has been good. I have no stories you'd gasp at. You'd scratch your head in confusion and wonder what was going through the idiots head, but you wouldn't gasp and hug me. Anyhoo, I'm digressing.

My life is brilliant. So why am I so jaded about relationships? I don't want one. I'm positive I don't want one. I am waaay too busy to have to not be selfish right now. I am petrified of falling in "like" with someone and having to deal with him taking up every waking thought. I can't handle it. I have Wireless Sensor Networking to worry about.

Relationships are such garbage. You meet someone and create an artificial connection until you are able to trick yourself into actually caring. Then you fight over daft things. Like seriously, why do couples fight? "you don't spend enough time with me". Your life was JUST FINE last year before you met him. You didn't give a shit freshman year when you saw her talking so whatever dude, why cant she talk to him now? Its all such bullshit. Honestly, I think everyone should just bang whoever they wanna and be NORMAL. But then the ugly members of society who aren't getting laid will get all hoity toity about it.

I don't want the late night phone calls, the "study sessions" where everyone is absolutely unproductive, the sleep overs where no one gets any sleep and everyone is cranky in the morning. I don't even want to have sex with anyone. What I want hasn't changed in years. I don't want to have to sleep alone. Was listening to All the Love in the World by The Corrs today, and the chorus starts with "don't want to wake up alone anymore" and I scoffed, because waking up (sorry, John-o, you're wrong for the first time ever) is the easy bit. Falling asleep by yourself sucks.

And I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to do the random "checking in" the next day. its not necessary. You're taking up precious me-time. No I don't want to know how your day went. All I want is for you to show up at my door right when you want to go to sleep, and get in my bed.

Dammit, I swear John Mayer is a genius. And I hate him for making me this way. Its been practically three years.

*sigh*

I sound angry. I swear I'm not. I have too many thoughts and I can't type as fast as my brain goes and half my post gets lost in the wind. I feel ....resigned. I don't know why I'm so "life is all shit". I'm probably premenstrual.

I'm Sleepy

and I wanna go home, but I just missed the bus. The next one doesnt come for an hour :(

On Competing

Everything is good. Went to that interview and I guess it went well. I should hear something by thursday. Did most of the other work I had to do, but I truly lost interest and turned in less than half-baked work. S'all good tho. I'll be fine.

Was in the city for the weekend. Fun times. Hung out with a former friend for the first time in a few years and all the negatives came right back out. I had to constantly remind myself "it's not a competition. "it's not a competition" which is evidence of how little I have grown since then. It's all good sha. I had a blast, lost my voice and slept like the dead in the car ride back to school.

In other news, I am seriously considering my body pillow. Jason has a magnificent one. I'm going to need to ask him where he got it.

Speaking of Jason, I realized last night that I am way more hurt about losing friends than I am about losing, well, you know. I honestly miss Mr. Nigeria. We were cooool. I miss him a LOT more than I miss Femi Kuti. Femi was a great lunch/dinner buddy and he was great for the occasional whinge fest (lol) but I loved how Mr. Nigeria and I talked about all kinds of stuff. I loved how he'd call me when he was scared or worried about something important, or how he'd find my ear to say dumb shit about random hot girls. I called him thursday to be like "damn, I thought we were cool" but I got a "let me call you later, no daytime minutes". Later isn't here yet.

*sigh*

This week should be sufficiently hellish that I don't have time to eat or cook or think again. *tips 40 to memory of newfound bootyliciousness*

On My House, on my Job , On my loot, shoes, my shirt

...my fathers last name?

Lol. Robin Thicke (the OLD, untimberlake like Thicke) on the brain.

I have a job interview to fly out to tomorrow. But what if I really REALLY dont want the job? It is rude to cancel and just not go? Especially when my dream job was stripped away from me by the fates (hell, maybe I should be grateful, they started having money issues... maybe its better that started before I started work, than when i have a mortgage and 3 kids). Ugh.

Jobhunting bites monkeys ass.

Currently Listening to Brand New Jones. First time I heard the song, I thought his girlfriend/partner was his "brand new jones" but then I listened properly and I realized his time away from her was his brand new jones. How do you NOT love an artist that admits that you don't ever truly want to be around someone 24/7 losing your mind completely because the ass wont get out of your hair?

I unhid the posts. I decided screw it. Femi, if you see the posts someday, I hope you feel flattered. Life continues.

I have a meeting in half an hour and I have no intention of doing the work I needed to do to prepare for it. I hope my group members are nerd enough to just let me stand there and look pretty. I just don't want to do any work.

Speaking of pretty, I'm there again. Waking up and wearing make-up just because. Going to class in the snow with a spring in my step. Hell, my step is so springy, my professor asked me if I hurt myself ( he thought I was limping). I'm not hopeful this time, I'm just....I have no idea how to describe it. I'm not at peace, I'm not content, neither am I scared. Im just....okay. I'm okay with everything.
Well, almost everything. But that's my fault and life continues so I'll leave that one alone.

I decided to stop cussing. Not because I have any moral objection to it ( well, I used to, but I'm at a morality low right now) but because I hate the way my voice sounds to cuss words. I really don't like my voice in general. I hate the sound of it recorded. I hate the sound of it in microphones. And mostly, I hate the sound of cuss words in my voice.

Insane? Maybe.

I Changed my Mind

God created clothes for a reason. I hate the nudity. I am a self-described idiot. So I'm reading the entire blog (yes, again) and hiding posts that could potentially bite me in the ass.

This was not supposed to happen.

ugh.

I did it!!!

I almost forgot. Well, I didn't totally do it but remember how I said I was going to get the gorgeous weave I had never had the balls for? I did it! I wish I could post a picture, but that wouldn't do for anonymity would it (although my dumb ass just gave one of the recent subjects of this blog a link *slaps self*)?

Life is good. I started reading old blogs and I'm not as horribly boring on this blog as I thought. Y'all should have given a little more feedback jo *hiss*

Valentines day was a blast. It snowed like no mans business and class was cancelled which was fantastic because I hadn't done homework i had due and I hadn't the foggiest idea what to do. NSBE called and promised to send me flowers (which, as expected, never arrived) but I still love him to death. Went out in the snow with my IAD buddies to an Indian buffet and after great food and even better conversation, we made snow angels (actually, we made the snow angels on the way to the restaurant, but the sentence was sexier this way. Its called artistic license. Sue me).

Okay, on the phone with an oooold friend so I'll finish later!

Okay, off the phone. That was fun. Catching up is always great. I just got done reading through the blog. I'm an idiot. In the good kind of way. :D I also feel totally naked since, as I type this, i know someone is reading the things I wanted to keep totally private and away.

But nudity can be good. Like I said at the beginning, I hate how polite society says I can't be transparent. I'm a transparent person. I love you or I hate you and its written on my face. I'm not a private person. My life is an open book, but polite society says I need to be closed in order to survive. Maybe that's the allure of blogging. I can talk and talk about myself and no one has to know (until I go around giving people links *rollseyes*).

And I feel the need to repeat what I said the last time on xanga. I'm Freying. Nothing (well some thing are, but why tell you and spoil my ability to say " I made it up") is completely true. my blog allows me to add a little imagination to everything and make it sound the way I want it to. I get to ascribe separate events with different people to one event with whoever and however I choose.

And with the disclaimer done, I'm off to bed.

You Can't Afford Me!

I am worth $2,517,350 on HumanForSale.com
How much are you worth?

He is a Blogger!

Who would'a thunk it? And I'm a total stalker. Google is the shit.

..well, he was a blogger. Hasnt blogged since like April last year.....unless he just switched blogs. My inner Sherlock is itching to get out. Apparently, he has been insane for a lot longer than I thought.

I think i'm going to ask him about the blog. I know, i'm horribly obvious, and yes, i'm awfully nosy and even more, I'm sure it was supposed to be private, but he should have thought of that before he put his real name on there. Hmmph.

I'll be back. Homework calleth. I think i got my blog-jo back!!!

Why is this blog always about boys?

He said I live too far away.

After I hot-footed it over to his place 2 days before, I live too far away.

Asshole.

Soul

I love and miss you. Call me some night when you can't sleep.

Shit.

I miss him.

WTF.

I'ts almost 3 years later. I met this guy who sounds exactly like him and now I can't sleep. And I'm booty-IMing people.

Shit.

Merry Christmas!!!!!

I'm here, I'm alive, I'm happy and I'm grateful for friends family and food. I'm grateful for grace and I'm grateful that Christ was born to die that I may live.


What are you grateful for?

On Top Of My Game...

..at least until the next panic attack :grin:

Im kidding. I dont do panic attacks. I'm just a horrible pessimist when it comes to my own skills and success.

Its okay though. Because God got me. I'm not quite sure why, but He does. All I can do is be grateful.

Friends are still a funny thing but I guess thats what growing up is about. Im eating sugar like its going out of style.

Does it ever happen to you that you meet a nice guy who is feeling you and he's smart and funny and sweet, but he can't get a rein over his mouth? Giving DAFT compliments like "your hair looks a lot better now than it did this morning" or other such bullshit and he cant understand why (after you have corrected and yelled and painstaking explained why that is such an asshole thing to say) you refuse to hang out with him other than randomly bumping into him at the library?
No?

Oh, Okay.

Femi is alive and kicking. Crush is semi there, but on its way out. His best friend (I still don't understand why) is still trying to throw me at him. I ought to be doing work. It snowed today.

No. That was not a typo. And yes you read right. IT SNOWED AT THE BEGINNING OF NOVEMBER.

*smh*

Why do I feel so sad?

I told you I was coming.

You were so excited. At first I was like "huh?" I haven't talked to you in years, why are you so amped? Then I thought about it and I was flattered. I figured, it must really suck up there. We'll be cool. And I guess God is taking care of me and dealing with my meeting people worried ahead of time. But then I get here I have to call you to find out anything thats ever happening. I'm not even an after-thought. I'm a returned phonecall, when I just called to see if you wanted to do anything. Im a " I totally forgot to tell you" "I meant to call you" "I didn't think you'd be interested".

Yeah. I guess I'm not interested anymore.

And if you see this, I don't want to talk about it.

And the rest of you. Its like that huh? I fight and struggle to include everyone in everything and NOT ONE OF YOU thought of me. Not one.

Why am I surprised?

Starting over. I need to stop being so freaking unsuspecting and open.

Serenity Now!

I'm here. I'm sane.

Life is funny and people are funnier. Femi Kuti is a sweetheart in jackass clothing (just the way I like 'em) but I'm letting that one go.

This weekend, I'm studying for the finance makeup test (and searing never to call Business Majors dummies ever again), so that is solved (I hope).

I had lunch with Femi on thursday like we always do, and I told him about the awful group I'm in for that other class, and he made me feel so much better. I told him I missed my dad and he immediately pulled out his wallet and agaveme a phone card. He also made it clear that we were good friends and he truly enjoyed my company , but that was as far as emotion went (don't worry, I didnt hint anything, and I don't think he suspects anything either, I got that out of him using some wuru wuru to the answer) and I decided I agree with him. I think if we dated, the little things he does that irk me would drive me absolutely insane so I.m leaving that alone. Please understand this is MY blog and so that does not constitute a promise I won't talk about this anymore (you should be so lucky).

The group? I talked to my dad and Femi and my uncle about it. its still up in the air, but I feel much better. I suspect I was very hormonal, and that was why i was so upset. We'll see.

I ended up going Salsa dancing with Femi and his crush. "Am I mad?" you ask? not at all. She asked , I said no. He asked, I said no. So they came and GOT me at 11:30pm in my house while I was in my pyjama's with a sarf on my head, looking like Risikatu. *Smh*

I'm glad I went though. It was a lot of fun and she seems like a genuinely nice person, and she is a great dancer. I need lessons!!!!

I sought strength from Him and He gave. Thanks, you guys, for caring.

Your Love, O Lord

Reaches to the Heavens
Your faithfulness stretches to the skies


Marvin Gaye said it best...don't worry about me, God is my friend. School woes as always. Butting heads majorly with a group member, to the extent he tried to kick me out of the group. I lost my temper. I'm grateful I didn't curse at him or anything insane, but I sure was tempted. Grateful for the wisdom of God to walk away. I called my professor and emailed him to inquire about changing groups for real, because the class really isnt worth the stress.

Now he emails me and says the last thing he wants to do is make me unconfortable in the group. You just tried ot kick me out!!! How do I feel comfortable?

*sigh*

I'm sad. And when I get here, I finally do what I should have done from the beginning: give it ALL to God. The Finance bad grade, the Femi Kuti Situation, the cruel team member, everything.

I need grace.

Oh Well,

He likes this other girl.

Too bad.

His best friend still thinks I should tell him.

I think I should cut my losses.

There's still tomorrrow.

edit:

I always do dumb shit when I'm this upset. I think I might tell him at lunch on thrusday that he was my first crush here and see how he reacts. But watch me regret it. *sigh*

Screwed.

I'm doing laundry and I pull out the pink pashmina I wore to Dino's Saturday night. I put it to my nose, expecting it to smell of sweat and dancing and letting loose and exertion and ehaustion, but it smells great.

It smells like him.

Fuck.

I don't wanna bore you with my troubles....

...but there's something about the way you move and that enourmous smile and that cockyness that makes me weak and knocks me off my feet.


Stevie is a genius. End of story.

So I guess Im back in crush. Except now, he is turning into an asshole. What is it about me and being able to pick assholes out of a crowd even blindfolded? He pissed me off satruday night....made a stupid comment that hurt my feelings...but that didnt stop me from dancing with him half the night... in the words of one buddy..actually let me hold that thought.....I have an aunt crawling around the blogosphere, so a sista gotta be careful *wink*

I didn't do anything bad. Brownies honor.

In other news? I'm a facebook whore. I'm totally reinventing myself and I'n not sure its a good or bad thing. Its a completely skin deep reinvention, trying to finally TRULY break free from my lifelong "one of the boys" status. It's going slow, and its a bit expensive, but I'm relatively certain my mother would approve.

I'm trying not to let myself think about it too deeply, because I know I'll hate myself for giving in and letting other people and society determine what I should look like and how I should act, but what can I do? Yeah, I'm sure you all have a comprehensive list of what I should do but I'd rather not hear it until after my experiment has failed. Goodbye enormous backpacks, ponytails and shiny forehead. Goodbye fun, bubbly happy Tori.

Okay, maybe not that. I can't stop having a great time and just being totally silly. But I'll try to be a little more ladylike about it and start dancing like someone truly is watching [because someone usually is].

It Continues....

Just got back from NYC for fall break....I actually had a great time. I usually hate the city, but I really had fun. Spent way too much though. I wish I wasnt such an idiot and didnt keep footing the food bill etc for me and my friends....I guess I was just grateful they agreed to traipse around the city on my account when they had work to do.

Today is Femi Kuti's birthday. He sorta invited me out for drinks...I sorta declined. I'm tempted to go, but at the same time, I feel like I should get work done. I didn't do any bubbling this weekend, so I should go for an hour or so and come home and work. We'll see after I publish the blog and i finish my cup of tea.

The weather was fabulous. I had a jacket on, but DEFINITELY didnt need it. it was 81 degrees out today. Who woulda thunk it?

I dropped the evil class, so if I come on here whining about school, please e-slap me. The semester should be a breeze after this week. Well, not a breeze, but I shouldn't have any more reason to come on here in a tizzy.

I had something I wanted to blog about, but of course as soon as I hit the create button, it slips out of my head. Too bad.

Oh yeah, for the record, girls get on my nerves. I'm for the umpteenth time planning to reinvent my relationships with women in my life. Healthier for me.

I had a really nice heart to heart with my buddy in NY. She is so sweet, and it was great to rid myself of [most] pretence and just....be.

Ugh. Now Ive gone and lost my iPod USB cord. ANOTHER uncecessary expense.

*sigh*

On Lunch, Past Romance and Bringing Sexy back

Crush is over. I found out at lunch with him and a third wheel [I don't know if I should be grateful for the extra person] that some girl flew in from England to spend the weekend with him. I'm not asking any questions, I'm just walking away.

*sigh*

It was fun for all 30 seconds it lasted. I think I'll just focus on warm body nursing my aching coughing sore throat back to health so I can pass this damn class.

in other news, I just got the sexiest new phone.

Does Failure Really Build Character?

...because I'm about to become as great as *gosh, this is hard... I can't think of a single famous person with untainted character!* ummm Gandhi?

For X[n] <= 20 for n = {1,2,3} X[1] = 15 X[2] = 9 X[3] = 0 Does this count as an exponential decline? edit: See? I suck! I can't even spell Failure! *wails*

On New Romance, and Lunch

I simply cannot remember to eat. I just realised I ate only once today and once yesterday....well twice if you count the chicken wings and the cake at the picnic. I never remember to eat lunch during the week, except on thursdays when [so far] Femi and I have gone to eat together. Its not really a standing date.....school started 3 weeks ago, we have done 2 thursday lunches....Im not calling him this week, because I made the plans the last couple weeks. I want to make sure he wants to lunch with me and I'm not dragging him away from whatever or whoever it is he usually lunches with and he is only agreeing out of some weird sense of politeness.

Femi and I went out together last night. I don't know if Im allowed to call it a date and I'm jumping the gun, but he suddenly called at about 10:30 last night to ask what I was doing.

"Studying"

"On saturday night? I'm on my way to come pick you up. Do you have any movies at home? I feel like eating ice cream and watching a movie"

Of course I gather up my books and computer in like 20 seconds and I'm out the door before I remember: I dont have a tv!!!!!

He is like "cool, whatever, lets still get ice cream and chill," so we go buy ice cream and some drinks and go to my place and just chill and talk for like another half hour - 45 minutes then he suggests we go out dancing. Went downtown and danced the rest of the night away. It was a lot of fun. He said we had to do it again. He dropped me off at home and that was it.

I walked in my house smelling like his cologne. *smile*

The weather is fabulous and I'm high off the possibilities of new something. Tomorrow goes up to 84 degrees so I shaved my legs and plan to wear a skirt. And I don't even expect to see him tomorrow. I hope my high doesn't die soon--I need as much perkiness as I can muster for the career fairs on tuesday and thursday. I might want to revise and print out my resume. Jobhunting sucks ass.

I hope we're still on for lunch thursday.

*mellosmoothe*

One more Odd fact about me

I am insanely attracted to men's backs. Yes. Backs. The way men look at womens boobs or hips or butts, I suspect I feel the same way about a well defined back as most men feel about a 36C or a minute waist and Beyonce's badunka. That crease in your lower back where your spine is and your shoulders and the muscle behind the blades? *swoon*

Lucky for me, I don't get slapped for touching. :wink:

So I got tagged..

...and since I dont want to do my work I might as well.

Post six weird facts/habits about yourself. These cannot be used against you later on. At the bottom name the six people you will tag next. Leave them a comment to let them know they’ve been tagged and to read your blog

I cannot multitask. It is simply impossible. I'm either on the phone or reading something in a book/on the internet. In general, the phone conversations lose out. Although, for class, I realise I concentrate best when Im doodling song lyrics on my notes...go figure.

I cannot eat food with my hands [like eba, amala etc]. This stems from no false superiority complex, I just never learned how. My parents said it was rude to eatfood with my left hand [I'm left handed] and so made sure I learned to eat with a fork and knife. When I was about 12 they decided I was dexterous enough with the silverware and said I could eat withg my hands at home. Guess what? I didn't know how.

I LOVE rice and okro [Okra? Whatever]

I read with the text about two and a half inches away from my eyes and have done so since I was 4 but [as at last eye exam] I have 20/16 vision (which means for you non-glasses wearing folk, I can see from 20 feet away what normal people have to be 16 feet away from the chart to see). S odont buy the "don't sit so close, it will spoil your eyes" hogwash.

I have an attention span of about 4 minutes.

I really should be writing this paper I have due tomorrow.

Okay , that last one was cheating, but I really do need to get back to work. I'll tag people later

I had the oddest dream

I was walking back from class worried about my grandad because my mom had told me he was showing her a book he was readingand telling and how it mirrored his own life but his hands were empty. I guess I was worried he was going senile.

I walked towards them, as tjhey were sitting outside in the clearing in my apartment complex and I heard him praying aloud. I walked towards them and knelt beside him and bowed my head to pray with them, but when he felt my presence he stopped praying....

we were there in silence for a few moments when I felt him lay his hands gently on my head and in real life my body shook with a violent jolt.

I don't know what it means or what happened or why I woke up the way I did. I am believing that it means god has done something new and I am trusting in Him for my salvation. Psalm 25:3 Says

No one who trusts in you will ever be disgraced, but disgrace comes to those who
try to deceive others.

and I am hanging on that. lol. Hanging by a moment. Keep me in your prayers. I have 2 very good friends who are doing some major travelling today and one who is just going through some stuff. Say a prayer for them too.

So I did dance my ass off...

...but then so did he....with other people.

Murphy's Law. A friend thinks I'm trying too hard. I think this blog is getting personal. I need to stop telling people about it. Okay fine, I told ONE person, but now that I want to say something I can't say it. And the current crush knows I am a blogger and wants to read. Of course he's gonna find it and be totally weirded out that I blogger about him then he is going to avoid me like the plague and then the annoying dude that irks me is going to fall madly in love and screw me over for life [because all the dudes here are like a posse].

So I notice on this blog I'm only ever depressed or talking about some dude. Lol. I promise I have much more fun things going on in my life, like getting kicked out of a friend’s apartment for talking about Nigeria too much. Strange world.

I just realized how much I enjoy dancing. I can dance all night and then some and dance all the way home while the sun comes up and get home and dance to a couple more songs before I get into bed and STILL be up at like 10am to be useful.

So Femi Kuti is not that cute. And he is kinda loud, but in a cute funny way. I suspect it will be annoying in like a month. Either that or I'll be out-of-my-head-hopelessly-devoted.

I should be reading about the triple constraint now and how each part of the constraint is not mutually exclusive even though each part is represented as orthogonal to the others on the graph.

And according to my Kolb Learning Style Inventory, I'm in the perfect field. Management of Technology.

So why would I, at this moment, much rather be home watching my husband eat and make me blush like a schoolgirl as he talks about how great the food is?

*hides from the bra-burning feminists*

lol. Yeah, I cooked for Femi Kuti [I’m gonna call I’m that from now on. You know, I actually kept calling him Femi to his face when he was over yesterday] and a couple other people over the weekend and they wont stop talking about it. And I feel all warm and fuzzy. I guess I really am a traditional woman on the inside. But only on the inside. Dare say some shit to me about how every woman wants to get married and those that don't "won tan ara won je" (they are fooling themselves) [yes, that was an actual Femi quote, and that was part of why I cussed him out.] and I will pour kerosene on you and wrap my burning bra around your head. Dare me not to.

In other news, I keep meeting hot Pakistani men. [Ha-ha...I’m sure you thought other news did not include men.]

I keep having nightmares. I'm having this recurring nightmare about a rape. The first time, I was watching a movie about it. The last night, I discovered the girl who was raped. I'm worried that the next time, she'll be me. And I knew that I should burn my Women’s Lib membership card when my first thought on waking up was "I wish I had a man asleep beside me so I would feel safer when I wake up from these nightmares". I think the Femi crush was born the next day. So much for independence and going to bed with a baseball bat. I really need to pray and consecrate my room because clearly, something is wrong. At least, thank God, I'm not scared of the dark here. Usually, when I move to a new place, I'm scared of the dark for the first few weeks and then I eventually settle in.

Lord, I am such a girl.

And I am so brutally honest on this blog. I might have to move yet again. I'll just have to tell the regulars where to find me.

Or I'll stick to being lazy with no site meter and pretend I only have 3 readers.

I'm Still Alive....

...but only barely. School started but as they say, when it rains , it POURS. One week and I'm already totally lost in one class and completely innundated with work in every other. The fun thing is I have no classes on friday, but I suspect I will be studying or sleeping on fridays.

I guess I can officially be reffered to as MILF. Not the kind you think tho. I don't have time to have kids. I dont have time for a social life, let alone sex and broken or forgotten contraceptives. So can someone explain to me why I am in love YET AGAIN.

*stupid grin*

Lol. I am a total loser. He is an ungergrad. Granted, a graduating senior, but an undergrad all the same. He kinda looks like Femi Kuti to me [which may or may not be a good thing]. I would say more, but that would probably give away his identity, and he has sworn to hunt for my blog. *grin*

I was pretty sure he was interested in me until I cussed him out for making what I saw to be a chauvinist comment. As we all know, I ADORE complete jackasses who seem sweet on the inside [well, that part is optional, judging by my track record] and it was love at first "you-are-full-of-shit".

Okay, i need to talk, so please Lord Jesus, never ever let him find my blog. Amen.

We had class together [don't ask me how that happened. Seriously, what are the chances? Im a grad student, he isnt, we have totally different majors. All I know is I'm not dropping the class] and he sat beside me and this birthmark he had on his arm just killed me. My Palestinian hottie was on my left and he was on my right. How I ignored my Palestinian hottie for 2 hours in favor of Chauvinist femi Kuti is BEYOND COMPREHENSION. I sat and stared at his birthmark and willed myself not to touch it for to hours.

I failed.

He probably thinks Im psycho now. Some chick sitting in class touching him. WTF?

I must be losing it. Its all this reading.

*sigh*

Hopefully, I'll see him this weekend and dance my way into his head and mess with his shit.

Back to Probability and random Signals for Electrical Engineers.

What does it mean

when a man you are in no way, shape or form romatically involved has no problem peeing with you on the phone?

Am I a prude to have made him hang up? I dont believe men should have non-sexual body functions. In my mind men do not dogest food, burp, number 1 or number 2. And please dont burst my bubble. I love my fantasy. Marriage/Co-habitation is going to suck. Stink breath, unshowered days, and farts-in-bed. I should join a monastery NOW.

I am a dummy. I buy you expensive presents and give you way more than I can afford to give when I know there is nothing between us. Is it from a sense of gratitude that you were my knight is shining armor when I hadthe accident, or do I secretly home that someday there might sorta kinds one day in an itsy bitsy way you might feel a twinge of something more than friendship? or am I just one of those naive, moronic friends who believes that you would do it for me if the talbes were turned even after you didnt get me a christmas present and you forgot my birthday and spent a pretty penny on you.

*sigh*

I'm moving next week. I havent started packing. Im not excited. Im curious to see what life is going to be like, but Im not excited. Expect about a billion blogs the week after next after my 9 hour road trip and my first week of abject boredom before school starts.

Another day, another $16,000 dollars

I GOT HALF!!!

Jesus be praised!!

Im happy. I have stuff to say, but it's 1:27pm and I havent showered. :grin:

Im off in under 2 weeks. I havent started packing. I am beggining to get excited.

Be back soon.

As Always...

...I return to blogger when life is sucking royally.


Women can be so catty. You are jealous. It's natural. People feel that way when they feel like other people are encroaching on their territory. But did you have to be such a bitch about it? Absolutely unnecessary. I can't wait to move so I don't have to deal with your cattiness. Then you run around and front like "I just don't care about anything. Nothing is that serious".
Sure.
Tell that to someone who buys your bullshit.

Ugh. I want to write in my code so bad, but I'm lazy. And I don't feel like having to translate in a year or so when I'm curious as to what I was on about.

Waiting, begging for a miracle. If I want to be out of here in the next three weeks I need everyone on their knees before God stressing Him out until He gets tired of hearing it and parts the Red Sea.
Its that serious.

I'm not going to panic. I'm going to sit here and be calm and deal with it when I wake up.

*sigh*

Why does life suck enormously each time? I could take a little suckiness at a time, not a cartload inbetween bouts of euphoria.

I'll live.

In the spirit of corniness to my favourite blogger

who made me grin like an idiot the other day, when I saw my phone

http://www.yousendit.com/transfer.php?action=download&ufid=6867EA9A13F3F3AE

feel better.

Real blog real soon.

Moved...again

So Im back home, except my sister moved ot a new apartment and we dont have the internet set up yet.


Quitting cold turkey is a beast. I'll come read and catch up in a week or so....in the meantime, dont forget me!!!!

Separation Anxiety and Other Brain Farts

I hate getting dumped.

Its disheartening to realise that people reprioritise and you don't make the cut. I don't take it like an adult. I turn into petulant child and take cheap shots.

Losing friends bites ass.

I'm moving on Monday, And so I ordered a new luggage set, set to arrive on ....yup, you guessed it...MONDAY.

I need to stop blogging when I'm in weird moods, but of recent, it seems those are the only times I can sit still long enough to write anything.

My birthday was great. My mom came with my sister and we didnt fight ONCE. She took me shopping and spent waay too much money on me and cooked for me and cleaned my apartment and did all the other great things that mothers do, like pee with the bathroom door open.

On my actual birthday, a coworker took me out to lunch. Then on tuesday, a whole bunch of coworkers took us out to lunch for the June birthdays and one of them gave me $50. I was very touched. I have to remember to send her a present and invite her to my graduation.

Gosh, I hope I don't do that and she feels pressure ot fly all the way out there for one day of smiling with strangers she has never met! Okay. Scratch that. Just the present and the occasional email.

I adore Nelly Furtado.

Lately...

...I have had the strangest feeling

With no vivid reason here to find

-- Stevie

So much for friends. No one wants to help me move. SO I guess I will be driving 8 hours 34 minutes by myself. Maybe its biting myfingers to spite myhand [or however that saying goes] but I don't think I have a choice. I will not grovel. it's not that serious. I hate people having the audacity to tell me how much of a bad idea it is to drive all the way by myself, but refuse to help in the same breath.

Even more distateful is " I would have loved to help if I could"

Why cant you?

Silence or nervous laugh. Take your pick.

I'm so irritated that I'm planning to go and get packing boxes tomorrow and start packing my shit up.

I truly am very hurt. Because I'm still the idiot that will go out on my last limb and drink garri for a month, because you needed me to fly in to help you tie your shoe lace.

Okay, that is unfair to say no one will help.

Someone did agree to help.

Then asked if he would be getting some ass as part of the deal. Not in those words, but the message was clear.

And no, he isn't Nigerian.

Listening to Glenn Lewis

Tagged....again

I honestly hate these tag things. I never read them unless they are written by people I adore. Unfortunately, more and more people are growing on me. Here goes...

Accent – Weird mix of "depends on who I'm talking to". Im a lingual chameleon. Im waiting for the day the chinese delivery guy slaps me for saying "tenk you, kamagain" after he delivers my fly lice.
Booze – Im a cocktail girl, with a strangely high tolerance for alcohol. Usually Hypnotiq and Vodka [I like the pretty blue color] but more recently, Black Forest Martini [mmmmm, chocolate cherry goodness!]
Chore I hate – Dishes. I will marry the man that will buy me a dishwasher.
Dogs/Cats – Cats. I once saw a bumper sticker that said "Dogs have owners. Cats have staff". I adore their independence. Very unlike those suck-ups people call dogs.
Essential electronics – The pod [Oh Steve! you have made a crack addict of me!] and the PC.
Favourite Perfume – Givenchy Very Irresistible.....although my new Vera Wang is growing on me [eat your heart out, Mona!]
Gold/Silver – Gold
Hometown – Ile-Ife
Insomnia – Never heard of it. I can sleep for 12 hours straight.
Job Title – Bum
Kids – None that I had noticed.....I KNEW I couldnt have made that mess myself!
Living arrangements – Weird roomate who walks around wearing a full Kimono, which would be normal if she was Japanese. She is white.
Most admired trait – The ability to raise one eyebrow. Or whistle. I could never do either.
Number of sexual partners – Now when you say sexual, you really mean people who don't run in the opposite direction when i come down the street, right?
Overnight hospital stays – Too many. The nurses all knew me by name.
Phobia – The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. So why cant I watch scary movies?
Quote – "Not trynna be your woman, pimp bones in my body" [Im sorry, i had to think of something fast]
Religion – Christian
Siblings – 4 sisters. Yes, I am a middle child, and president of the Middle Child Syndrome Anonymous
Time I usually awake – 7:30 when one of my employed friends thinks its funny to wake me up to stare into space for a few hours.
Unusual talent – Pissing people off without trying.
Vegetable I refuse to eat –Cauliflower. UUUGH!
Worst habit – I correct bad english. It irks me.
X-rays – I dunno....maybe 4?
Yummy foods I make – I am told i make a mean stew. *shrug* I love my beans and corn.
Zodiac sign – Gemini [which will explain the split personalities and the extreme mood swings]

Leaving on a Jetplane

I can barely believe I'm done. I have a few more weeks of hanging around doing nothing planned, but I feel like i should be packing. I'm not excited or dissapointed. I'm strangely....meh.

No emotion.

I need to start making plans. Call Enterprise rent-a-car about picking up a car and dropping it off there. Buy boxes to put my stuff in. Figure out who is driving with me.

I'm a dummy, I should have paid 2 months rent in one fell swoop. I forgot. I wonder if they'll give me my check back, or I just have to write another one.

People are funny. The year is over and no one who promised came to visit. Except Chi. And I dont even think she was one of the people who promised when I got the job.

I'm moving back now, and all the people who promised to help me move back home aren't picking up their phones. Ha ha.

I guess I need to truly "try it on my own" as I have been singing for the past year. 8 hours 34 minutes, here I come!

Freaky Hi5 Weirdos

Does Hi5 only send friend requests and messages on certian days, or is there a "lets send Tori friend requests and stupid messages" day?

Last wee kit was saturday. I got about 5 friend requests from absolute strangers. It would be one thing if they were all male, but apparently, Im so hot, or so mysterious[ considering there is very little personal information about me on my page], that women want a piece of this too!!!

Im very shallow, so my Hi5 works like this:

• If I actually know you, I will definitely approve you
• If I don't know you, but youre a really hot guy, then I'll approve you..gotta keep the lines of future conversation open :wink:

Everyone else gets the boot. I very very rarely send friend requests to people. And if I do, chances are you are an old friend I lot touch with 10 years ago and I was just so excited to see you're alive and well, and it doesn't hurt you if i remember you are hot/have a hot brother.

anyhow, back to my story. I got the cutest message yesterday.

"hey wassup i propose we skip the hi5 thing the long telephone conversations and everything else in between and just get married ASAP plus i gat lots of naira i cook mow the lawn do laundry and my bedroom skills are off the flipn hook...wut u think??? "

If you ignore the blatant disregard for the rules of the english language, it was funny and sorta refreshing, compared to the usual "I dont know you, Angel, but I know you are the love of my life, and we ought to spend eternity together" messages I usually get.

I must be coming up in the world.

Blogger is Scary

I think that is why my posts are such garbage. I read a few blogs here [as you can see from my side bar] and I think just about everyone on there has had their comment boxes thoroughly raped by spammers.

How absolutely mortifying.

I have no idea what my traffic is on here, nor do I know how many readers I have, but lucky for me, my blog hasnt been "graced"........yet.

I think Xanga is comforting and maybe that is why that blog is years better than this one. I open a fresh editor for a new post and my mind goes blank for fear of getting run over in a drive by comment spam. *shudder*

Funeral [not parking lot] Pimping

Jersey was......strange.

A very good [and grossly underappreciated] friend lost her mother a couple weeks ago so I felw out to New Jersey to see her and attend the memorial service on tuesday [her mom passed in Nigeria, and Graduation is on Sunday].

I truly need to stop whining. And I say that every year when I am graced to witness strength in adversity. She was, of course, very upset about her mom, but she spoke such wisom and strength to me, that I had to say a prayer of "Who am I Lord?"

She is one of those wonderful people who always has a kind word for absolutely everyone. She is an incredibly generous spirit, and I feel awful because she truly was one of those people in college who went out of their way to be a friend. Of all my "friends", she was the only one who made it to my graduation. And she got me a very thoughtful gift [a few months earlier we had been at the mall and i had liked something I couldnt afford to get. She remembered]. I can't remember how many times she called me just to say " hey, Tori, I just cooked...would you like to come over?" when the other people who were my closest friends were in my suite every ten seconds to eat, but never remembered me when it was their turn. [Okay, why is food important? Obviously, because we were broke college student, and every bite needed to stretch].

I am broke as a churchmouse right now, but I am glad I went out there to support her. And it didn't hurt that her cousins are hot.

Okay, that was tacky. But they are hot.

Oh yeah, while I was in college, we went to a wedding together and I met her hot med-student cousin and his hot med-student buddy. Isaw them both again in Jersey and came to find out the hot med-school buddy is going to do his residency at my grad school. What are the chances of that?

This entry sucked balls, but I felt like I owed something.

Xanga is on Hiatus...

...and so I was forced back here.

I'm sorry...I've been AWOL. Xanga is still my first love. She feeds my attention seeking self. I get feedback.

That is not true, because I don't even check my sitemeter on Xanga. Hmmm....I wonder what my traffic looks like.

Here, I have no idea if I have one reader or twenty.

I suspect one [lol]. Most people know the good stuff is on xanga.

I am falling deeper and deeper in love with The Tony Rich Project. I got Pictures yesterday, and now I'm on a mission to get Birdseye and Resurrection. I've always adored Words, but I'm rediscovering it and loving every second.

In other news, I'm jamming to ElDee and his Long Time Coming CD, and I'm loving Do ti e:

There's a party at the club, je a lo si be
Its strictly IV but we don't care
I got a bottle of Hen and Courvoisier
And if you wanna bounce us, a ma do ti e

I'm homesick. I've been listening to Naija music like its about to be banned like in the Prohibition. I swear, there was a time I never touched Nigerian music. I'd hear it in passing, but would never burn a CD, let alone put the tracks on my PC.

Now? I Have a little over 3.5GB of contemporary naija music on the 'pod, and a whole rack of old stuff [I'm not homesick enough to listen to the Obey yet, but I figure it wouldn't hurt to collect it in anticipation for the bug to hit :wink: ]

oh yeah, check out the ElDee "I go yarn" video. It's rather cheesy, especially with the solitary tear running down his cheek, and he used a lot of general african hunger footage, and some american homeless people footage and I thought that was out of place, but then, I figure the song is meaningful for all of Africa, so I'm willing to overlook that.....but the US footage? ehhh.

Anyhow, I'm talking too much. Watch it for yourself here.

Nigeria, We hail Thee!

This was adapted from an email I sent to a buddy. He said something about naija men and how they seem to be the brunt of every joke, the bad guy, the Tony Montana to all of our sensibilites. We call them uncouth, liars, Cheats, 419-ers and a host of other horrifying names and my friend asked the question "is it really the naijamans fault?"

My overlong response [lol.....the email I was responding to was about 3 lines long] was:

If you pay a policeman too little to feed his family, how do you want him to survive?

I hate people hating on the police for taking bribes etc when they don't realise that it's not their fault, it's our fault. You want a man to protect the peace when he has no home to shelter his family?

A boy goes to school and gets a degree in chemical engineering, but cannot get a job anywhere then we get angry that he cheated some greedy SOB who wanted $2,000,000 of Abacha's money that he didnt work for?

Unfortunately women dont get accused of the same crimes, because women in Nigeria don't do that. Our society is so sick that it is much easier for a naija girl to find a rich man who has abandoned his real family [his son is probably the one sending 419 emails, because his father said his mother was a witch and refused to continue paying school fees] and is willing to pay for her housing, food clothing, and whatever else she may need for a little loving on the side.

And her poor policeman father cannot open his mouth and ask her not to do it because he knows that she is paying her 4 younger siblings school fees and putting food on the table which he couldn't dream of doing because he hasn't been paid in 3
months.

*sigh*

I am not my Hair

or this skin or that degree or that *cringe* bank balance or these 3687 mp3s on my iPod.

Although, I am rather proud of that last one.

My hair has bothered me so much, that I had a dream last night about dying and being readopted by my family [ or something like that] and anyhow, my natural mother was half white so the resulting me was the exact same bautiful dark skinned me with the exact same beautiful african features, except I had that covetted long super curly, super unmanagable "mixed" hair.

It was long and full and all over the place. And I loved it. Somewhere in there, I woke up. And I remembered every conversation I've had with my natural haired sister and natural haired buddy about cutting my hair and going natural. And then I got online and saw African shirts blog and India's video, and I think its certain now. Im going natural.....someday.

For now, I'm going to do everything I ever wanted to do with it, but was too scared to do. I am going to get a beautiful completely fake long curly mid-back length weave. And I'm going to love it. And then maybe after that, right before I chop it all off, I'm going to get one of those short uuberfunky assymetric cuts that look fabulous. Then I'm going to make like India.Arie and go bald.

Drat. Cant do that. I have this weird birthmark on my scalp. Ugh. Moving on.

And finally [for at least this chapter of my life] I am going to watch it grow slowly, naturally, un-messedwithably.

Do the Shuffle

This was yoinked from Pilgrimage to Self:

Turn your MP3 player on random and list the first 15 tracks it plays (regardless of how embarrassing they may be):

1. Ancient Words (Live) - Michael W. Smith
2. Ol' Keeper - Anthony Hamilton
3. Satisfied - Prince
4. Turn Da Lights Off - Tweet feat. Missy Elliot
5. Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus
6. Seems Like You're Ready - R. Kelly [embarrassed by this one]
7. U R The One - Usher
8. When Doves Cry - Prince [more Prince? who woulda thunk it?]
9. Mo Se Ori Ire - Paul "Play" Dairo
10. Hero - Chad Kroeger and that guitarist dude
11. Sympin - Boyz II Men [I would have been sorely embarrassed if BIIM didnt make the list!]
12. Voodoo Reprise - Cassandra Wilson and Anjelique Kidjo
13. This Love - Donell Jones
14. Where There's Gold - Seal
15. Here I am - Dynasty

lol. No John Mayer. How absolutely unfair! I have absolutely everything he ever did!

Double Standards

I hate it when men think it's okay to say shit like this to me

Stupid Asshole: ah ah./...i jus saw d pic on facebbok...u really loookin gud
She... says: lol
Me: eshe oh [thank you]
Stupid Asshole: awon bobos nko....
Me: none in Michigan oh
Me: at least i havent met them
Me: there are some hotties i Chicago sha...
Stupid Asshole: damn...u must be horny as hell

I think I have some left over Queen's College prude in me. Either that or Im just stuck up. Especially considering I had just promised to feel him up in a club if I saw him perform in Chicago instead of Maryland.

But that's a whole other story.

Like a Woman

I'm growing.

I don't know if I like it yet. I'm not ambivalent, but I'm not hating it anymore. I'm not scared of it anymore. I'm taking it one day at a time. If I keep going like this, I'm going to wake up one day and be 800 :smile:

I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well

-- Diane Ackerman

Listening to good music as always. So far today, Lynden David Hall and The Tony Rich Project [hence the title... if you dont know that song, go find it. I promise its that good].

WHERE IS MARY DUNNE? I miss you lady! Come back home! I pray all is well.

I want to start the purpose driven life, but I'd hate to do it alone. I actually think I'm overextending myself. I have far too many books I'm supposed to be reading right now. its beautiful outside. Everyday now, I walk by Kodak moments. Water dripping off the budding trees after the sprinklers go off. Water glistening on the grass. Ducks outside my building [at work...Imagine!] New Tulips.

I need a camera soon! I need too many things and I have far too little money. I need about $33,000 in tuition money for dream school [its interesting how my first choice school changes every few weeks] , probably another $20,000 for other expenses [new apartment, health insurance, etc], a car, a laptop, a vacation.

*sigh*

Where was my Dad when people were selling their souls [and their country] to the devil for 30 pieces of silver?

I keed. Im grateful I can with pride that my father is an honest man. In the midst of al lkinds of corruption, he taught me to be proud of my name and speak with authority about what is right and wrong without needing to be PC to avoid people rummaging for skeletons in closets.

The Lord will supply all my needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus

So I wrote my first piece today

:giggles like a schoolgirl:

It wasnt very original, and it was very short, but I got great feedback. The muse may yet be here

I'll C&P.

He's looking at me.

I know it. I know it because I've been looking at him since we got here.

Well, maybe not the entire time. It was hard to remember anyone existed when that song came on. The world became a blur as I moved, all caution to the wind. I didn't care how I looked or what anyone thought. I twisted and turned and swung and let completely loose. My hair was everywhere, my purse, shoved in the hands of a waiting friend while I let the rhythm take over. I danced till my stomach hurt. And it felt good. As the music changed to one of those songs you and I both know by heart, but not because we like it, but because someone somewhere paid someone to have it played on the radio 8000 times, I made my way to the bar to get an apple martini.

And that was when I saw him looking. He toasts me silently and I smile back.
I make my way back to where my girls are talking about how I took over the floor. I laugh and sip my drink slowly. The music is good. There is no point wasting a good night to baraje by being intoxicated.

I steal a glance at him.

O my God, he's coming over. My heart skips a beat. I know I look a hot mess. I've ben dancing, I'm hot and sweaty and I haven't been to the bathroom to do damage control yet. Omygodomygodomygodomygod--Hi *smile, Tori, smile*

Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself. *omygodomygodheisGOOOOOORGEOUS*

Ha, ha! I need to catch my breath for a moment. Save me one.

I finish my drink, and make my way to the bathroom to see how bad it is. Not bad at all surprisingly. Most of my makeup is gone, but I look....alive. I grab my hair up in a ponytail and deal with a little forehead shine. I wait for her to get done and we re-enter the party and its like the DJ knows me.

"No-no-no-NOTORIOUS"

aww HEEEEELLLL NO!!! He took it back to 1999!!!!

I start moving right there. She laughs, and takes my purse without needing to ask. I spot the rest of the crew on the dancefloor and make a beeline for them....

As I begin to SCHOOL them on how its done, he appears at my elbow. In a second, I feel like proposing. We dance like we've been partners forever. He knows when I'm going to go forward, he anticipates my hip flick and counters perfectly. I'm in heaven. I don't remember who I came with or even what song is playing. All I know is the rhythm and our bodies moving in perfect unison.


*baraje: Nigerian term for losing yourself in the music.

Selling Out

Someone I have a lot of respect for as a person, a writer and a blogger once described my old blog as "excellent". That shocked me and made me feel extremely special. And it was all downhill from there.

I have this top secret dream of writing. I don't know what I want to write, but I want to be published. PhD dissertations don't count. Part of my quest for immortality. I have watched my blogs deteriorate at an amazing rate. I think I read too many blogs. The more I read, the more I find myself unconsciously trying to imitate. I find myself trying to anticipate what people who read my blogs want to see. And I find myself sucking.

But it's hard not to try to imitate....There are some absolutely fabulous Nigerian blogs out there! I had the most vivid dream last night; I found out that blogger had hired an entire team of Nigerian Bloggers as staff members, because of how amazing all the blogs were. Okay, in the dream, I was in a dorm room for grad students in Queens College with Lolu and one of the Blogger staff members and some random other QC girls who were doing everything from attending law school to heck, I don't remember..., but I digress. The point is that it is embedded in my deepest subconscious that there are a zillion bloggers waay better than I will ever be, but therein lies the dilemma: Why do I care?

Blogging for me used to be a place I used to empty my head. My best blogs are written early in the morning, before I read anything, see anything, or talk to anyone. I wake up at 3:17am and have a Eureka moment, and run to the internet to pour it out. Usually, it comes out 57 times worse than it was in my head, but then I read it 6 months later and its still absolutely fantastic. I need to do a lot of tweaking, but the heart is still there. I need to get back to that place. Blogging for me and not for the people.

*sigh*

Time will tell.

I had about 800 Eureka Moments last night. But I'm not going to blog them. I'm going to let them marinate and return to my subconscious and re-emerge as something else.

Till then, please don't misunderstand my few and far between comments as disinterest. I'm reading...and I'm horribly jealous. I'm just trying to get back to doing it for me. I must behead the attention-whore.

Brand New Jones

It's amazing what good music does for the soul. Iwas slowly but surely slipping back into my familiar melancholy over the past week as evidenced by my new playlist on my mp3 player

• Release Me [Wilson Phillips]
• I Love Your Way [Will to Power]
• Fast car (acoustic) [Tracy Chapman]
• Nobody Knows [Tony Rich Project]
• Smile [Tamia]
• Better Man [Robbie Williams]
• California Dreamin' [Queen Latifah]
• Home [Brian McKnight]
• Officially Missing you [Tamia]

but then, as I walked to work, I bumped into Robin Thicke and literally danced all the way here.

Busy day ahead, but it should be good.

Is it a bad thing that I am a total attention whore? That isn't even rhetorical. There is a correct answer. No. it is me. And I shall revel in it. No apologies.

Playlists are pure joy. Words are simply incomplete. Now an entire song? Or A group of songs! I can define places, feelings , poeple.... no, not people, but how I feel about certain people by my playlists. And you leave them alone and let them mariante for a couple of months then dig them out one day and enjoy the transportation back in toime to another place, another feeling.

*sigh*

It's been soo long since I made a good playlist... I think the last one was This time last year, quite possibly even later...

So I got Tagged Again....

...And since I'm a lazy bum, I'm going to C & P off my other blog. If you read my old blog, just read the very bottom of this one...that's all that changed. And I'm not tagging anyone. Thank me later.

1. He's gotta like to dance with me. [Lol, i got dancing on the brain].
2. Ineka will beat me up if I lie and say this isnt in there. He's gotta be tall. And preferably slim. [that isn't absolute, but that's where my head is right now].
3. I've gotta fall in love with his mind. Therefore he must be a reader. There is something reading random books does to peoples heads that... *shiver*
4. He has to be able to take charge without making me feel patronised or snubbed. Know how to pick his battles with me without making me feel ignored.
5. Spontaneity is always good. I think every man should take a 2 hour course on the importance of moments to a relationship.
6. He's gotta love God more than I do. Okay, that's just selfish, but sometimes I need someone to remind me/ keep me focused.
7. He's gotta know how to laugh and make me laugh.
8. He has to respect my mind.
9. He needs to make me feel safe and protected and girly. I like it when you open doors for me and, take my hand when we cross the street and take heavy things from me and all that cutesy stuff. AND I LOOOVE being picked up. If I could pay someone a dollar to pick me up every day, I'd do it.
10. Needs to make me feel hot without me needing to stuff pillows in my draws. lol.
11. Im cheating I know,this is number 11, but he has got to know how to kiss me. How to make my toes curl and my brain stop going a mile a minute.....I could keep goingwith that one, but I gotta maintain my reputation as a innocent little 8 year old. :wink:

My list is completely dynamic...it will probably change tomorrow. But , then again, it might not.

Why do I Still Care?

I had a fabulous weekend. And I didnt see him.
And I didnt really care.

I talked about him way more than I cared about seeing him, but my heart only skipped when I thought my buddy was gonna call him.

I came back and I havent thought about him at all...

...until an old friend asked me to send recent pictures of me and I bumped into pictures of him hiding in my pictures folder, taunting me, laughing at me, daring me to delete them...



and I was surprised I hadn't done that already.

Am I Crazy

for being mad that Donald Trumps 5th baby is more news worthy [according to Yahoo] than a cyclone in Australia?

Im just saying...

Copasetic & Cool

I still think Hill St. Soul misspelt "Copacetic".

Im having a beautiful day and it didn't even start yet. I dont know where the happiness starts each morning. It might be while I brush my teeth in front of the mirror in the morning after staring at myself for about 10 minutes. It might be somewhere in there while Im staring at myself. It might be in the shower. I dont even know what I think about in the shower. All I know is that by the time Im dressed and in the kitchen for breakfast, I'm happy and perky and ready to face the day.

Or maybe it's on the walk to work. My fingers are frozen, and my nose is drippy and Im bundled up like the Michelin man, but my iPod is doing its magic and life is beautiful, even with the dead skunk on the embankment.

Oh yeah, just in case you didnt know, the best "walk to work in the morning at the end of winter/beginning of spring is

• Hill St. Soul [thank you Soul! ]
• John Mayer Trio [Good love is on the way, Another Kind of Green]
• Plantashun Boiz [Emmema]
• Queen Latifah [California Dreamin']
• Ralph Tresvant
• Tosin Martins [Olo mi -- this one you can listen to all day and night]

Im sure I have about a million more, but I cant think of them right now. Im gonna sit still and put together an "On the Way to Work" playlist.

Its been so long since I made a playlist or mix-CD. I used to do it all the time in college to record a particular person or emition. I only have one of the CD's left because the others were fapped by various people.

I have no idea what is going on in the world. I need to start reading the news again. if gmail doesnt flash it across the top of my screen or its not an MSN headline, chances are I'll miss the article. I also plan to go join the Ann Arbor Library today. Ypsi library is too far away now, and the number of books im reading each week is exponentially declining. Not good, if I plan to take over the world within the next 20 years.

Today is my friday [I hope you all choke with envy].

This weekend, I'm off to Virginia to be wined and dined by a prospective grad school.

I'm very grateful for good friends. Thank you Rae.

Superhero

So I click "create new post" and then I have nothing to say.

*sigh*

Okay, I think its coming. But its gonna be random.

I have a special talent for pissing off my friends. Beside "foot-in-mouth-syndrome" in the encyclopedia is my picture with my foot rammed up to my knee.

Im lonesome. And I hate to admit it. I just dont think its proper to say you want Something to Sleep To. But I've shut up about it for so long that I let a little of it out and now it's all I can seem to talk about. I just know my friends want to shoot me or are systematically blocking me on IM. I promise I'll eventually shut up.

I already need a new blog. I already cant be totally honest on this one. Told too many people about it and Im back to square one.

Maybe its for the better. All that angst made for pretty sombre reading.

It's amazing how much poetry I find in music. I wonder if the writers put it in there on purpose or just stumbled on gold. Something to sleep to is a Michelle Branch line that i SWEAR perfectly encompasses how I feel about falling asleep to a gently rising and falling chest and gentle breathing and utter vulnerability and strength at the same time.

I think watching your child sleep makes motherhood completely worth it.

Brian McKnight could still get it. As long as I break his heart and he stands outside my window and sings "Get Over You".

More randomness later.

Isaiah 58

So I'm going to try again.

Say a prayer for me.

Everything is everything :smile:

Candy is the Devil

SECOND TIME I broke my fast by mistake....I get talking and I pick up a piece of candy and pop it in my mouth.


Now Im gonna sit at work hungry for no reason because I broke my fast by mistake but I [obviously] didnt bring in lunch.

*smh*

He is the Keeper of my Secrets

And the lover of my soul.


Say a prayer for my family. And ask him to bless my sister and my uncles more than they have ever been blessed and that his grace be sufficient for us.

You promised to supply all our needs according to your riches in glory and you have never let us down. I bless you because you are faithful.

I didnt go to church today. There is little more I want right now that to fall on my knees and bawl in a church filled with that kind of song that surrounds you and fills up your every pore.

You are so faithful.

I cant get away from that girl who sang in QC

Great is thy faithfulness, Great is thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed thy hand hath provided
Great is thy faithfullness
Great is thy faithfulness
Great is thy faithfulness
Lord
Unto
me.

"Baby, I'm Pregnant..."

"How do you know? We just had sex 5 minutes ago!"

I swear, it's really going to be that easy. Each year it gets more and more pronounced. Im EXTRA gragged and in need of affection when Im ovulating.
I find myself blogging about wanting to just be kissed oh so gently sitting crunched up on the couch with the tv off but the lights all on. No words, no sounds just glossy lip gloss . Jeans and bare feet. My long long legs stretched out across yours. Just sitting, laughing, kissing.
I find myself wanting to call all the sorry losers I've ever known and say "I'm coming over".
I find myself listening to Ne-Yo and Justin Timberlake and Jason Mraz and John Mayer.
I find myself getting bold and proactively chasing. I find my solo evening which used to be so welcome filled with melancholy.

I swear, I'm not doing the long distance thing. I remember being in a relationship and having to schedule our moments. But that in effect means Im scheduling my next relationship for September 2006. Which is just as silly.

Im open. I'll be poor as hell, but I guess if I have to do it, I'll do it. Long waits at the airport and no new shoes, because Southwest Airlines is proud owner of my shoe fund.

*sigh*

LOL. Im not even sad. This blog is depressing. Im sitting at my desk grinning. I promise! I'm excited about the possibilities. I realised yesterday that I'm very almost 22. And it shocked me. lol. I'm getting older. And maybe not wiser, but just a teensy bit more mature. And it's exciting and scary at the same time. It's not scary, its sad. Im not a baby anymore, but the future holds no fear anymore. My life is going to be okay. I feel like bursting into song, [which I did on my way to work until my nose filled with the smell of dead skunk which killed the mood. But I digress.] I want to go shopping for hot new clothes and go to Chicago with the girls and feel as beautiful as I did the night of the accident. I want to wear open toe heels again [warm up dammit] and show off my pedicure.

Spring is in the Air. New life. New dreams. New Adventures. The possibilities are endless.

The World is Coming to an End...

I'm running out of things to say.
There is truly no other explanation for it.

Everytime my phone rings I'm bracing myself for bad news.

I dont feel so hot

Im developing a cold.
I got some awful news.

but in other news, I saw the Vagina Monologues today. Well, yesterday, cosidering the time is now 1:35am. But i digress. It was a great show. I especially enjoyed the moaning.

I had 2 buddies from QC visit over the weekend and I spent waay too much money at the mall. And my shoes are in the mail.

Life is beautiful :cheesy grin:

I just want to crawl into a hole and cry

Im panicking.

When I panic, I freeze. My brain doesnt do Plan B's. I cant function until someone grabs me and shakes me and makes me list out everything I need to do so I can get it all in perspective and systematically tick them off one at a time. I cant find my list book. Im panicking.

Im not good at failing. Ive never done it before. I cop out and run away before it happens. I cant run away anymore and now Im falling apart.

And everyone is telling me how it wasnt meant to be as if that should make me feel better. It wasnt meant to be doesnt make me want it any less.

Im so scared.

I have no idea what the future holds. Im so scared, that I dont think Im getting a car anymore. I dont know, I might need the money for something else, depending on where I end up.

I need to go see a doctor. I have no freaking insurance. I might as well blow my savings on my health.

My leg is covered in scars from me scratching like a lunatic at night. its so bad, I wake up with dried blood on it from where I scratched a bit too vigorously. All because my dumbass was feeling feminine and decided to shave my legs. I sooo know better, I dont know why I did it.
I gotta go invest in Hydrocortizone like last week and make a Dermatologist appointment ASAP.

*sigh*

I feel like Im heading back there again. Back to where I was this time last year. Panic, panic, drowning drowning and it only gets worse. Im drowning.

Its amazing how easy it is to put a game face on and act like its all gravy. Im scared.

I need to set my mind on going back to Nigeria. I need to want to go bad enough. What the hell, maybe if I go, I'll spend my car money on a new purse and pretend Im an irresponsible happy-go-lucky moron.

Or maybe I'll just sit here and panic.

I want ...

...these :