On Goals

As much as I love reading long pieces, I never ever write them. I'm actually kind of ashamed of my inability to sit still and write out a well structured piece.

I think of articles/blogs I want to write all the time, and over the course of a week or two, draft them out in my head, fluffing them out piece by piece and rearranging paragraphs into better places. I come up with perfect lines and phrases, and profound conclusions, but the moment I open the blogger window, it all flees.

I thought, maybe if I start writing the pieces on my blackberry, I wont lose the entire thing. I tried that last night in front of the television as I watched 16 and pregnant. I have a blog on loneliness that starts out sad and ends on a note of hope and joy and the beauty of solitude, but I only got through one line.

I have another I dreamt up at the airport last week called "This summer I will" that was my list of resolutions (because why would I make them in January when the weather is awful and sometimes all we have is our vices to keep us warm?) and each day, as I slapped sunscreen on my face after my moisturizer (resolution number 1) having showered after no more than 2 snoozes on my alarm (number 2!) I thought of all the other awesome habits I planned to develop and made my mental list for the summer of awesomeness and swore I'd put them to paper as SOON as I got to work each day. I froze and, instead, tweeted inanities.

I really need to figure out how to do things that scare me. So the next thing I am putting on my list (and please don't try to hold me to it, the pressure only makes it worse) is that This summer, I will write a piece I am proud of, that isn't just me vomiting out my random thoughts. I will somehow stick this between beginning to learn French (number 3) , applying to the AfDB (number 4) and consuming copious amounts of frozen yogurt covered in mango, strawberry and kiwi pieces.

Oh yeah, and attending weddings. And laughing constantly (Seems like I'm doing a great job of those two already).

I'm waiting

And I absolutely know better.

I'm not expecting anything, but I really, really want to see him. I've started having dumb dreams again about exactly what will happen when I see him. It's all very boring really. He comes in, we smile like idiots, hug, I cry, he comforts me for a minute. I tell him where his stuff is and he goes upstairs and gets it. In one version of the dream, she is in the car, waiting outside. In another, he just loads up his stuff and he leaves. I go back in, and watch TV.

The good news is that if the last year is any predictor of the future, he wont show up.

I should probably make plans to be somewhere other than at home once he leaves.

And it continues...

Coming off another awesome weekend. I woke up this morning 40 minutes early and I wasn't even pissed. My wi-fi wasn't working so I couldn't check my usual AM-before-I-get-out-of-bed websites, and that was cool too. I just picked up my book and started reading.

I'm all gooey and gay and bright. Lol. It's cute I think.

Worked till 7 friday and then went home and read and read and read. Spent saturday morning reading too. Started spring cleaning my house but laziness and Anthony Bourdain: Without Reservations set in and I gave up on that. I ended up kinda chilling out till it was time to go to my friends moms 60th birthday and meet up with a bunch of the grad school girls. Foolish times were had by all and by midnight I understood that the Yoruba in me is deep. I beremoled and judied to my hearts desire even thought I was supposed to be helping my friends mom gather the money they sprayed her. I had a blast sha. Met up with a couple people I had met before and finally met my friends new husband and my other friends long term boyfriend. BBMed and gisted till 3:30am.

Next morning we all had brunch and I finally met the famous Pedro (who is planning to propose to his girlfriend in two days! Redunk! Life just happens so fast. One day you're a lost grad student, and the next you're turning 30 and hoping your girlfriends sister doesn't let out the secret.), and laughed to my hearts content. Spent the rest of the afternoon having the most chill, laid back, unpretentious and hilarious time ever, and then went home and gisted with my sisters for hours. I literally went to sleep laughing.

Things are still looking up and awesome. I just have to continue to remind myself to take things a day at a time but still just enjoy every moment of the experience. Definitely something new. :)

I had a such an awesome time past weekend. It was strange because I was NOT looking forward to it up until I got there. Like I picked up the rental car and was still in a funk. But everything started to just come together. I was walking and a conversation with a friend over the prior week just finally hit me and my mindset just changed. Found a dress for the event that night, wandered around by myself for a couple hours and it just became better.

It the end it was a blast, there were no dramatic moments, I didn't feel the need to get piss drunk to escape and I simply didn't stop dancing (I tried, I swear, but when I sat down, my leg wouldn't stop moving, so I figured I'd better keep dancing rather than have people think I have a twitch).

I felt beautiful, the bride looked beautiful and I was surrounded by beautiful people and good music. I ran into someone I hadn't seen in 11 years. I also outdoored my glasses and everyone thought they were cute. We'll see if I can get used to them. Good times all around.

Except for the part where one heifer was wearing my dress! I couldn't persuade anyone to help me drag her outside and strip her. *hiss*

Heading home, I got picked up by my girl and her mom and we needed to go pick up her spare keys from her late aunts place. Her mom refused to go inside so my friend went in alone and her mom and I sat in the car and she told me how she was feeling about her friends sudden passing, and about just finding out that her sister has stage IV lung cancer and how she just is struggling trying to handle it all. I think I hit epiphany number 2 (number 1 was enjoy the journey) but I don't know if I am able to elucidate it yet. Hopefully I remember to come back here and put it up.

I still feel so blessed that good things are happening to so many people around me. A 40 year old friend is 12 weeks pregnant with her first child, this friend got married to someone who seems to make her very happy, another friend is hopelessy (and requitedly) in love, another recently got engaged. I'm glad I get to witness.

2011 is looking like its going to be awesome.

This.

From a comment on "You Should Date an Illiterate Girl"

By LUCKYLEWY

In response to Charles Warnke. I told you to expect it.

Never date a guy who is broke. Meet him at the wrong time. Meet him in beautiful weather, preferably outside. Meet him when you are both interested in someone else. Add him on Facebook when you see his name pop up on the side of your page. Let him amaze you with his witty messages. Flirt. Don’t think about it too much.

Let him accept your request, months later. Talk until the sun comes out and the birds begin their song. Laugh at his jokes. Let him laugh at yours. Go into deep discussion about things like Penguins and Boxes.

Go to New York for the festive month. Let him want you. Go for a different guy. Come back to your warm state and continue the long giggly chats. Fall. Fall fast. Initiate a book club. Read Orwell.
Don’t finish the last chapter where she gets eaten alive by rats.

Go to New York in the bitter winter. Find out that he is at a lounge which serves tea. Go. Make long and intense eye contact. Look away.
It’s raining. Walk outside to fetch the car. Let him walk with you. Talk about the book.

Lead him into a room. Serve him fancy shaped ice cubes. Tell him he smells good. Fall. Embrace the silence. The dammed beautiful silence.
Let him help you prepare for an interview. Let him teach you Chapter 23. Thank him. Laugh with him when the interviewer was a complete nut.

Let him take you out for a coffee. Talk. Smile. Let him gaze into the depths of your soul. Let him fall. Let him wince in pain from “food poisoning.” Let him put his arm around you. Let him hold your hand.
Let him make historical dates and facts about the churches and buildings you pass. Laugh at him. Admire him.
When you get home and he doesn’t call or text, be hurt. Be hurt for the very first time. Want him. When you see a virtual note, describing all he feels in riddles and puns, know it’s about you. Smile. Continue talking, continue falling.

Go over seas with your family. Realize you miss talking to him. He misses you.

Make plans to be in his state for the summer. Let him take you “somewhere special” the first night you get there. Let him hold your hand. Walk around lost for an hour. Ask random strangers for useless
directions. Stumble to that special place. Breathe. Sit. Talk. Fall.
Let it rain. Let your hair frizz. Let your fucking makeup drip. You look beautiful. Beautifully in love. Let him lead you to shelter. Let him nervously kiss you for the first time at the top of the court’s steps. Laugh. Continue conversation. Then kiss him back. Fall.

Visit the museum at night. Fall asleep on each other on the eastern
staircase. Let him tell you he loves you in a tired and confused
state. Perk up. Ask him to repeat it. He won’t. Pretend you never
heard it. Lead him back to your closet of a room. Peek into a
forbidden hole. Laugh. Let him cover your mouth from laughing so you
won’t wake them up. Lay your head on his chest. Listen to his
heartbeat. Let him wrap his arms around you. Fall asleep. Wake up the
next morning. Quickly get dressed. Kiss him goodbye . Run down the
stairs. Be late for work.

Get into stupid fights because he wants to eat his cake and have it
too. Ask for closure.

Invite him over for soup. Watch him eat. Plan to watch a movie. Get
into bed. Start watching. Watch him answer his phone. Watch him leave.
Let him go.

While he’s walking you home, spontaneously take his hand and walk down
the subway’s steps. Even if it’s 3am. Take the train. Go anywhere. Let
him lean against a car on Friday night and tell you why you are being
crazy. He will tell you that he does not want to be in a relationship.
Walk away, upset. Let him follow you. Make up. Let him kiss you.

Get into more arguments about closure. Stop fighting, cause you’ll never win.

Let him sail off into the blue horizon. Miss him. Realize. Speculate.

Come back into New York for a few days before embarking on a 4 month
journey. Meet him at the park. Sit on a bench. Talk. Laugh. Smile.
Cry. Lean against the President Street bridge. Let the S train pass
from under you. Receive your first “get a room!” comment. Fall.

Meet him at a sketchy party in the outskirts of the city. Let him snub
off the frenchie that is trying to take you home. Smile. Dance. Meet
him outside. Let him kiss you under the church’s awning. Let him take
your breath away. Let him tell you that you are his world. Believe
him.

Let him give you moldy flowers. Let your heart melt. Let him put a
necklace around your neck. Tell him you love him. Let him kiss you one
last time. Bid adieu.

Go to Israel. Miss him. Arrange skype dates. Talk on the phone for
hours, like there is not 439898 miles between you. Let him tell you he
loves you for the first time.

Come home because you miss him too much. Date him. Accept his 9-12
months proposal. One year. January.

Send your Arab driver to pick him up from Miami. Knock at the door and
let your clothes come off before he even says hello. Breathe him in.
Lay in bed. Let him admire. Go for walks on the boardwalk. Make sure
you stop at the Hilton to use the bathroom. Promise that next time we
will bring bathing suits for we are going swimming in the hotel pool.

Drive to Deleon springs. Buy lotto tickets on the way. Tell him you
know you will break up in a year. Watch him wiggle in discomfort in
his seat. Lay on a white sheet under the canopy trees. Eat
strawberries. Love. Walk into an antique shop. Laugh. Suggest Cohens.
Sit at the table closest to the door. Order a hamburger. Stop eating
one bite through because he will not stop staring. Smile. Say “What?”
Let him tell you that he could get used to this. Believe him. Fall.

Take the shuttle with him to the airport. Write letters to each other
before you part. Hold onto him and cry. Cry until there are no tears
left.

Be inseparable. Write. Talk. Laugh. Smile. Skype. Message. Be best friends.

Go to New York. Link arms while walking into OT. Let everyone gawk at
you. You beautiful couple. Let him take you upstairs. Look at the
picture of him as a boy. Kiss him. Go to South street sea port. Hook
up in the Express dressing room. Try on tacky lingerie for him. Let
him take you to an organic cupcake joint. Lick frosting off his mouth.
Laugh. Love. Nervously meet his brother and sister in law. Breathe.
Eat terra chips. Smile. Let them like you.

Introduce him to your parents. Smile when you see them all together.
Let him play with your nieces and talk to your sister and her husband.
Be happy. Think you could so get used to it.

Run your hands through his hair. Let him convince you. Do it. Use candy if it’s bad. See him enjoy. Sin.

Let him see your weaknesses. Cry when things get heavy with mum. Cry
to him. Leave your mark on his white shirt. The shirt you bought him.

Stumble into photo booths every time you see one. Keep them all over
your room as little reminders.

Bring up marriage. Hear him tell you that he is still not ready and
needs time. Tell him you need to be with him. Cry when he doesn’t
understand. Tell him you need to wake up to him. Cry again. Feel your
heart break when he doesn’t budge.

Go to Australia. Hope things will get better. Watch as they get worse.
Try to be happy. Try not to miss him. Be nice. Understand he still
won’t be ready. Feel like shit. Slip away. Let him slip away

Date a guy who will keep you waiting. Date a guy who you love more
than you love anything. Date a guy who can’t drive. But never date a
guy who is broke. Because he knows that less money means more
struggling. And God forbid should one struggle. He will blame
everything on the fact that he is not financially able. He will loose
faith. He will loose you. He lost you.

Cry to him one last time. See how he watches you, unmoved. Unaffected.
Watch him as his smug shoulders shrug, watch him as doesn’t care. Let
him go. Don’t think too much about it.

Don’t think too much about him.

Let him go.

My self confidence is back. I remember blogging a long time ago about vacationing with 2 beautiful women with self image issues and being very uncomfortable because I had never had any major issues with the way I looked.

As hard as it is to admit it, that changed while I was with him.

And being away from him for the past year and a half has me back to where I used to be. Walking past the mirror and loving what I see.

I am patiently waiting

• For the day I don't drive up to my apartment and look at the front door, hoping you're either standing there waiting for me or that there is a package there from you
• For the day I don't walk by the front desk at work when the UPS guy comes and look up expectantly for my name to be called because there are flowers or cupcakes or serta frigging counting sheep waiting for me
• For the day I can just listen to Evolver and it's just an album
• For the day I don't have to restrain myself from talking about you
• For the day I'm not sad about how you'll miss out on every change that happens to me. From my new smell, to the scar on the back of my right hand to my changing body.
• For the hour I don't think about you.
  
  

Why do I still feel so broken?

7 Things...

Taynement is going to kill me if I don't and I live alone and I'm concerned people wont find my body for weeks, so I figure its a good idea to stay alive and give you my things

1. I love mornings. It might take me an hour to get out of bed, but I'm just happy to be alive and excited to see everyone. I don't need coffee or tea or anything to be perky I just am. Sometimes, its all I can do not to skip through the hallways at work. And I hate it when I'm awake and everyone is sleeping. There is so much glorious day to just LEAP right in to! ....then it all comes crashing down around 4pm then I don't want to be bothered.
2. I feel like I have tears behind my eyes, waiting for every opportunity to come crashing down. Every stupid thing makes me cry. I cry during every episode of Teen Mom. I cried (well, single tear) when Finn announced the formation of "Furt". I cried when my friend told me she can now listen to "Lucky" (she used to hate the song). I bawled at work when I watched this cute video. But just as soon as I'm done crying, I'm back to perky.
3. I'm really excited to be part of my friends weddings. Nothing says "I-love-you-and-trust-you-and-think-our-friendship-can-withstand-the-threat-of-zillaism" like the request for you to be a bridesmaid. Now, clearly I'm delusional and I'm doing my rainbows and butterflies thing again, but I just feel like the bridesmaids have the most fun at weddings. They get to wear cute dresses and know most of the guests and dance like no ones watching (and Jide Alakija/Collins Metu/Atunbi catch them looking beautiful and happy). Win-win no? No?
4. I do think I'm smarter than your average (what? I never claimed to be humble) but I cannot read people AT ALL. I have no idea if you're warming up to me or dislike me or seem intrigued etc. Because of this, I am utterly ridiculously socially awkward. I overcompensate for everything. I've never recognized that a guy was into me without directly being told (or realized the object of my affections did not feel the same way without embarrassing myself first). It often takes me a while to realize I've offended someone (and by "a while" I mean "someone pulled me aside and tells me"). I'm just glad people who become my friends find it cute and amusing (I hope. And if I'm wrong, don't correct me.).
5. I am ambivalent about absolutely everything. It actually scares me a little. I can pretend that I care, just to seem normal but in reality, I don't. I don't have a favorite TV show or book or author, I don't do anything religiously. I claim to love plantain above all else, but though I do like plantain a lot, I'd live if there wasn't any. I just find peoples reaction to the fact I eat it raw funny. I don't read/watch the news or care a great deal about politics, or music (though work is impossible without music). I'm just enough of an information junkie that I can have an intelligent (and seemingly well informed) conversation about anything. If it makes people think I know what I'm talking about, oops.
6. I have no talents. I cannot sing to save anyones life (trust me, I've tried. I'm currently shopping for a voice coach self, so I don't deafen myself since I insist on doing it so much). I'm not artistically creative at all (I wanted to be an architect till I realized I can't draw, so I resolved to marry one. I'm failing at that too). I can't make up a rhyme or write poetry. Even on the dance floor, I just absorb what everyone else is doing and am secretly jealous. Well, I take that back. I think I make a fantastic critic. I can tell you how to make ANYTHING better (and you will agree with my edits). I just can't dream stuff up myself.
7. I want to move to Nigeria this year. Not for any strong reason (see point 5). Just because. No idea what I want to do there, or what life will be like.

There. How's that for getting to know my deepest, darkests?

I guess I'm not the only person who wakes up a couple hours before I have to be at work and fafs around until I have to speed-shower.

Maybe.

I want to say I feel better, but I think every time I say that something happens. :P

I'm good. Enjoying the company of friends who are checking in a little more often than usual and fronting like they actually want to talk to my boring ass.

Work is hella busy and I'm working on interesting stuff so it's been a blessing. My friends have been kind enough to not leave me alone and drag me around with them, so I think I only feel sad when Pandora or my iPod conspire to remind me that even though love is hard, perseverance exists and you can choose to stick it through and make it work and thats what makes it extra special.

One of my loves gave me something to think about. I think the hardest part for me has been the thought that I had found someone that I was ridiculously compatible with, and in all honesty, I had never met anyone who fit me as well in all my twenty-six years of being and I realize that there are no guarantees that I ever will again. So it hurt that he felt the same way, but was willing to take that chance out of sheer laziness. Also, I know what I want out of a relationship now and, I wont lie, I'm a little scared that I wont ever find someone who finds all my annoyingnesses amusing and loves my uncuteness and finds my knowitallness refreshing.

(Still waiting for what my friend gave me to think about? lol) Aaaaaaanyhooo, I was talking with my friend about this and she said maybe he felt that way about my (perceived) imperfections because he loved me. Not that he loved me because of them. I had to take like 3 days to think about that one.

And maybe she's right.

Maybe someone will fall in love with all the fun energetic life-is-beautiful-first-thing-in-the-morning, ridiculous-amounts-of-useless-information, i'll-try-most-things-once and everything-can-be-laughed-at of me, and because of that still love the I-wear-my-own-hair-and-makeup-is-a-chore-and-my-lips-stay-chapped-ness of me with my i-have-to-have-the-last-word-and-i-am-absolutely-always-right and maybe even not commit suicide at how I have yet to meet my match at stubbornness. And maybe even not care that I don't cook*.

Maybe. :)

*Yes, sharrap, I still maintain that I don't cook. Even if it does seem like every time you call me I'm cooking something new, I am not advertising that, because months hit that I retire from the kitchen.

I don't think I've felt this alone since 9/11.

This too shall pass. It just needs to hurry the fuck up.

I have no idea what to say. I have plenty to say but I just really don't want to say it.

Someone said I look stunning today and it made me sad.

I guess asking for eternal happiness is too much. All our mothers lied to us, because their mothers lied to them. It's all a giant scam being perpetrated over and over again.

Bleh.

In my dreams...

...it really was simpler. *sigh*

My old buddy is back. Hi Soul. I've missed you.

Life is good. I really do want to chop off all my hair.

What the frig is a break? I understand not. Can someone honestly explain to me what they are? In my head "we need a break" = "I want to have sex with someone else, guilt-free". I'm told I'm wrong. I'm yet to get an satisfying explanation.

So things haven't been perfect of recent. I can sense us both mentally checking out. Which would be fine if I wasn't me and so hellbent on ripping off band-aids, even when they aren't necessarily falling off.

I had more to say but exhaustion hit. I'll try again later.

So I bit the bullet

and paid off my car today.

I feel like a weight is off my shoulders.

Now to up my 401 witholding.

The Thickeness..

So all week I've been listening to Robin Thicke ([sarcasm]shocking huh?[/sarcasm]) and I can't help but think how much he must love his wife. I try to remind myself that when people write, it isn't necessarily a reflection of how they feel. Things are inspired by things we see, things we hear about and don't jave to have anything at all to do with what is going on in our lives.

I still can't shake that "Lucky woman to be loved this much" feeling.

Love breaks.

And somehow, every time it happens, we're shocked.

You sit there and you think, this is just a rough patch, we love each other, so obviously its going to work out. Then you remember that conversation with your friend where she told you on the phone tearfully, "I just *knew* I'd found my own. I was settled. Done. And then it fell apart." And you realize that now, 3 years later, it didn't magically fix itself. They were perfect for each other (even in their own eyes), yet they aren't together. So you pause on those drastic measures you had in your head of just leaving him with nothing but a note, as the realization dawns that the thought of him tracking you down and standing out in the rain telling you how you complete him might actually happen, but probably won't end with the kiss that says and forgives and erases everything.

And so you watch it break and you can't do a thing about it, and you're pissed off that, as usual, John Mayer put it perfectly. Slow dancing in a burning room. And then you wonder, wouldn't we all just be FINE in love and not make dumb mistakes if we just took a class on "Continuum"?

Happy Valentines week, y'all.

The Independent Woman ... sorta.

Inspired by Mgbeks.

So I am an independent woman. Sort of. No I didn't have a job till I had been here a year and daddy definitely paid my rent for the first two years, but tuition was paid by my grades. After that, I managed to get a full scholarship that paid room and board also, and a nice cushy campus job for shopping money. Independent-ish, no?

Anyhoo, 5 years post grad (jay-soo, how times flies), I'm definitely on that "car and a crib [err, no crib. Apartment, thank you very much], she bout to pay em both off, and her bills are paid on time" ish. No help from Daddy. In fact, when I went to Naija self, my father quietly reminded him that I owed him $400 for the local flights he helped me book for my trips while I was at home. Omo, the recession was tough on retirees too.

Trust me, I agree with Mgbeks. Bill paying is NOT fun. Every other day, I look at my bills and wonder why I'm not an I-Banker. Just yesterdayI looked at my credit card bills, and after I paid off all my credit cards last month , balance is back up to $3k. All expenses incurred in a week and a half (wisdom tooth extractions plus car wahala = gbese).

So why then did I, as I got out of my nearly paid off car and walked into my office that provided me the freedom to be "fly effortlessly", pray to God that I want to be able to go out clubbing with the girls and BUY MY OWN BOTTLES without worrying about rent or my down-payment savings?

And it has to be before I marry, and before I'm wearing some mans ring. Because I don't want anyone to so much as hint at the money coming from some dude. Everytime I hear "I got Money to Blow" by Young Money I remind God that I NEED to be rich someday soon, while I'm young. There is no sexier image in my head than me in Tribeca or some club, sitting at an all girls table, everyone with a champagne glass and bottles just making their way over. All the dudes looking and wondering "ah ah! who are those babes now?" End of the night, I just hand the bartender my Amex from my well manicured hand without even bothering to look at the "damages".

....Then, some young strapping man can wife me and make me a trophy for all eternity. Amen.

Save Seun Adebiyi!

I ran into this article online today about 26 year old Seun Adebiyi, born in Lagos, moved here when he was 6 and is a Yale Law grad who is trying to be the FIRST EVER Nigerian Winter Olympian.

Except he was diagnosed with cancer.

Leukemia.

He's been through weeks and weeks of chemotherapy, but his doctors say his only chance for survival is a bone marrow transplant.

Sadly, only 8% of bone marrow list registrants are of African descent/African American. And for a match, the person needs to be practically IDENTICAL to you. So his chances of finding a match will be upped dramatically if there are more Nigerians on the list.

I got on the list last year, because a friend was pushing a drive for another friend of hers, a Yale Med student who is biracial (imagine how small HER numbers are) . She passed away last August.

The process is really simple. You go on the website (in this case, for a free kit go to www.dkmsamericas.org) direct link to sign up page is https://www.dkmsamericas.org/bone-marrow-donors/become-marrow-donor

Fill out the questionnaire and they will mail you a kit. All you have to do is use the Qtips to take cheek swabs and mail it back in in the pre-paid envelope.

IF (and this is a huge if) you are selected to be a donor, you go in, do some additional testing, and they use a syringe to take some marrow out of your pelvis (not much tougher than giving blood) and thats it.

I have posted a link to Seun's HuffPo article here

and his blog is at http://nigeria2014.wordpress.com/

Help save this guys life.

Please pass on this information. Even if you are not a match for Seun, you may be able to save someone else's life by signing up.

She watched it die slowly.