Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Of orange juices, fat beefs and exodus Thoughts

Too much on my mind- like the junk house of clutter my rooms were last weekend midway into phase two of evacuation plans. I never liked moving-even for all the times I’ve gone through the process. I’ve been told that’s good and bad. Good because it makes me a dependable friend (*wink*) and bad, cos as my room was, so do I keep too much junk! So whilst I’m clearing up my physical space, here’s a random to hopefully clear up some of the mental sphere too. Hence, this might be a long post as I grab a cup of juice,steaming microwoven sausage beef rolls, kick back and slip in a random. Not necessarily a T.Notes, just an offloading.

So the office organized a sendforth for me yesterday. Weird cos I’m still working thereafter till Thursday! Got gifts and some hmmm, glowing comments! Then again people are obliged to say good stuff about you when you’re near leaving their space! Teehee!. A general consensus though was the mystery of “Heck,where do you go to on Fridays after work?!!!”Lol. That was a funny bit. See, people usually join me for a ride home during the week, but i’ve had a long standing rule that on Fridays, I carry no commuters! Hence there’s always been joke in the office that “T.Notes does not go straight on Fridays o!” At the M.D’s closing comments, (cos everybody got a chance to talk about me), he leaned forward and asked, “so T.Notes, tell me honestly now, where do you go to on Fridays?!” I laughed it off with a mischievous wink! Go figure jare!

Waiting for the tears to overwhelm!

This is one bit that I am passionate about, so if you’re earnestly reading, you might want to grab your own juice or coffee too. I’ll be leaving Naija in less than two weeks, and for all that have asked when I’m returning, I’ve staunchly maintained that ‘not for a long time’. The plans are somewhat complicated but the simplest bit to understand is that it starts with an M.Sc in Birmingham, the thereafter is another long T.Notes. My inclinations are not due to the regular want/desire to travel out of the country, I’ve been there, done that and got the t-shirts. I’ve just more of concluded with a lot of bitterness that this country just isn’t doing it for me anymore. I’m sad about it, factly, I’m sad about my exit. Not sad because I’m going to miss home, but sad in a sort of “shake your head in pity sort of way”. I’ve had dreams for this country, I’ve served the country and for all of my efforts and tall aspiration, I look back and it seems that all I can recount is “sophisticated suffering”. Seriously, no pun there.

I saliently comment everytime we drive home from work and I see someone hawking stuff on the road. Things like a sausage roll, which cost less than a dollar, or toffees and sweets or sachet water- all under a dollar and even more appalling when compared to a British pound. You’d see these people sweating under the scorching sun, many times racing to catch up with a vehicular customer, and I just wonder that at the end of the day, how much could they possibly rake back home? A thousand, two thousand nairas? It saddens me. This country could offer so much more yet us citizens live in abject poverty! And we’re all included-even us with our seeming posh cars and nice apartments, it’s all a bloody lie. Have you ever done the math with your take home pay and concluded on how much of that fat salary goes into expenses monthly? Its crazy! Generator bills, maintaining car, buying food. I feel it’s totally unfair. Yesterday we were talking and comparing Nigeria to South Africa and…there just isn’t any comparison! I could go on and on, and in conclusion still just feel embittered and cheated by this country.

I read recently that there are two types of immigrants, especially with Africans leaving abroad. The first (who migrated there voluntarily) live in depression, feeling like second rate citizens and having to put up with subtle and insubtle discrimation-whilst wishfully dreaming of back home. The second are the ones who were born in their land of exile and so never really knew much of home in the first place so they have nothing to miss. The new land is home to them and they acclimatize. I choose now to include a third set and if they don’t already exist, I’ll be the progenitor of the tribe. These third are those that left home embittered. Maybe because they suffered back home, or just maybe they knew all along that the so called luxury they lived in was a miry deception. We sought for more from home and even tried to apply ourselves to make things better but home just wouldn’t receive our efforts. Why because the professionals we worked with were comfortable with their mediocrity and viewed your new knowledge as a threat even when we ourselves know all too well that that which we know is still lacking to some degree. (There's still a long way to go with our professional endevours in Naija. Alot of it right now is pure bullocks) Why, because some politicians are comfortable siphoning funds that belong to citizens then grading our lekki express way and ask us to pay 100Naira as toll! I mean, what sort of wickedness is that?!!!If I ply lekki five times a day, would I pay you 500buks, and then two thousand five hundred in a week? How much in a month, after I have dutifully paid my tax!!!I am bitter…sad…I could go on and on-about infrequent power, which still gets to me. You get back home after two hours in traffic, set a meal, sit back to watch some t.v, then wham, lights go off! It’s not fair!!!!Even Ghana isn’t half as bad with the light situation! I still pay a local community borehole to pipe drinking water to my house. Go figure cos i live in the city o! Parkview estate still remains one of the priciest locations even for all the contours and floods along the road.

I’ll leave this note there, it’s getting me upset, depressed.

On a brighter closing T.Notes, Yayyy I got a new laptop!!!Check out the Sexy Beast!

Never really been a laptop person. Been comfy with my flatscreens. This came as a gift, else would have gone for the bigger models, but it'l do. *Mwuah*. The consequent is I might be offline for a while, cos it won’t make sense getting internet connection for two weeks and do same again when I exit. Gooosh, gonna miss blogger few days I’m off connection! Stupid how blooger’s become like home. Stupid site’s gone and got me addicted to blogging, commenting and some cool people around here. You don’t wanna know some of the cool interactions (*evil wink*, but get your minds out of the gutter) and altercations I’ve had consequent to blogger. I’ve spoken on phone to some intelligent people, like wow! Gotten FAKE wedding invites from others! (You know yourself, just await my retaliation), got addicted to chatting online with some, constantly having fun stalking some pages, and learning, yes learning amazing things from reading some blogs! Blogsville Naija rocks jare! Good to know that’s one constant thing that will be making this move with me. Sooo people, if I am infrequent around here, don’t even for a second think I am out of your necks!!!Lai Lai! Me that I will soon start campaigning for president of Blogsville! Will just be doing best towards making that move and settling down in new place.

Till next T.notes, gosh nothing like home-made sausage! Juice please!

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Memoirs of a certified Shrink

Music Playing: Frank Sinatra: My Way.
On another T.notes, here's another dose from Memoirs. (Of which you need to be signed up there. Copying posts on two blogs is hard work!Yeah and you'll find 1st bit there too.)

21st August 2010: Doth Hell have fury?

What will you do if (or should I say, ‘when’) you walk into your home to find the proverbial significant other in bed with another woman? I have always considered that question overrated so I never gave it much thought, maybe if I did it’d have given me some background for my own reaction. Certainly I could have hurled the s%ut out of my tub by her hair, drag her down the ten flights of stairs and make a public disgrace of the harlot. And my boyfriend? Axe off his tumescent member, thrash his apartment then finish up by slashing his tires. I did none of those, instead I just stood gaping, frozen in place for what seemed like eternity whilst he hurried out of the tub and wrapped a towel about his waist. He even slipped her a towel too-can you imagine the nerve!

“C, I can explain…” He began to mutter. My brain found use, managed to process and relay that I was about to be fed the commonest cliché of all time.

“Bloody hell!” I retorted, or more like whispered in a mix of shock and building angst. Then my phone rang. I spun out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

‘Don’t you even dare delay for one second.’ My mind scrambled up a desperate wish even for all the anger I knew I was supposed to be feeling. ‘He had better open that door and come after me immediately!’
At the same time, my hands trembled as I sought out the shrilling blackberry and viewed the caller i.d- Dr Samiu, chief psychologist at the Institute (which I will shed light on later). The phone felt like hot iron searing through my brain as I answered the call.

“Where have you been?” He barked. “I’ve been paging you for the past twenty minutes!”

“Something came up…I’m not feeling too well right now.” I attempted the feeble response which I didn’t expect to go anywhere really.

Hurrying footsteps behind me- J had dressed up and was racing down the hallway. It didn’t count anymore, he needed to have come naked or at the very least in the towel. I returned my attention to the phone call remembering now that I was supposed to be meeting the chief twenty minutes ago.
“Whatever came up, make it go back down and get back here immediately.” He finalized on my behalf.

“C, please wait.” J hollered meters away. The elevator pinged open; I dodged inside. It shut just as J reached it. I let out a sigh of relief.

‘Bloody hell!’ I muttered again in disbelief as the images I’d just witnessed replayed in my mind. The voice on the phone crackled with static. Shoot, Dr Samiu!
“Hello?” I’d lost connection. Dr Samiu is not known for owning a mild temper, but what the heck, neither was I right now! For Christ’s sake, I hadn’t even opened up that strawberry musk before the s%ut got her grimy hands on them! I muffled a depressed moan.

The elevator descended to the ground floor and I could have sworn I heard all my dreams and hopes shatter beneath the metallic vacuum. I did best to muster what was left of my dignity and stepped out into the foyer. J appeared within same instant at the base of the stairs. He was sweating and panting from the dash. My man, looking all like the hero racing to rescue his estranged lover. Asshole!

“C, please…remember we never walk out on an agreement. Just give me a minute and…let’s talk about this.”
My brief pause.

“Go to hell!” I finally retorted.

The pickup car rolled to a stop by the complex entrance. I stepped in, shut the door and looked the other way as we drove out.

No tears…at least none yet.

So that’s how my story begins.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

The Memoirs of a Twenty Something Certfied Shrink

Introductions :Of Bulgarian Bathrooms and Veterinary Needles

21st August 2010

There used to be a bath tub on display in the furniture store just next to shoprite at the Palms shopping mall in lekki. Its not the regular type that you inset into a wall space; its one of those stand alone types. Sort of like the medieval wooden tubs, but this is made of modern shiny bathroom ceramic and sits on four handcrafted golden stands. It comes with a classic stand to affix your hand shower tubes and hold your soaps and things. A work of art for a certainly not too cushy price, and we were the two art lovers who would stop by daily during our mid-workday snack to spend thirty minutes oogling and coveting the beauty. Our plan – to possess it and have it sit right in the middle of our currently furniture-less living room, just waiting for a planned night of aromatic scents, colored candles and micheal bubble serenading in the background.

Well,we got the bathtub eventually; the night of aromatic scents, colored candles and micheal bubble certainly came to be all just as planned except for one missing vital piece – me! Well at least me not being in the bathtub as envisioned. There I was-fully clothed, watching the whole thing happen- every bit as sensual as we imagined- except with a livid me staring from the outside - shocked as hell.
The bloody bathtub cost four hundred and thirty five thousand nairas! Convert that to dollars and let your head spin. Yet nonetheless, we opened up a specific Stanbic IBTC Bank account for the purpose of purchasing that bathtub and its accessories. And for three months, we both had an allocated allowance that went into savings- yes, all for the bathtub (We are dead serious like that). I guess what we could have also been dead serious about was putting in fine print the obvious idea that this was a bathtub for TWO- i.e, man and woman, me and him, not him and her or him, me and her, or even her and her! I mean, I would have figured that anybody doesn’t need a soothsayer to interpret that when two people save to purchase something as intimate as a bathtub, its only expected by both parties (well maybe only the naïve woman, as I am finding out) that the two savees own exclusive right of usage to the property. I mean, who buys a bathtub for another woman to come and soak inside?!!!Ask my boyfriend J!

The apartment is in Parkview estate, that’s somewhere along Osborne, ikoyi. It’s a luxury block of flats and trust me, you don’t want to know how much that cost too. But that’s just the thing, all I can do these days is think of all of the cost that have been invested into this me and him business and the fact that we’d split every cost, fifty-fifty to make it happen. Car purchase- fifty-fifty, future in-laws weekend visits, fifty-fifty, Christmas vacations trips, fifty-fifty and the list goes on and on like that. Right down to my heart that I am staring at right now split into two equal halves, one part left soaking in the bathtub, and the other half in my hands not believing how my world is spinning to a bloody crash right now. All the while, I have been fair about this relationship, accepting this fifty-fifty business even when I could have imposed my right as a woman and negotiate say at least seventy-thirty, but look where its gotten me, I’m at the bloody short end of the stick!

I will attempt to put my indignation aside for now and skip you quickly to the present reality.

You would think that some clichés have been so long overplayed that they could never possibly play out in reality. But I guess even I should know better. I should have known better as I sauntered with casual enthusiasm down the hallway to room 401, our soon to be apartment. I carried a brown paper bag which held another bevy of bathroom accessories, a buying that had become my indulgence the past two weeks since when we finally purchased same dream Bulgarian bathtub. The bathtub did live up to its billing in that today it did indeed become a vital element of our story albeit however, to become probably the star attraction to the conclusion of our tale. Or better put, the star attraction of a R21 porn flick!

I keyed open the door that day, not expecting anybody to be home. J was supposed to be out of town. I would quickly drop the bathroom goodies and hurry back to the office. But J was not out of town, so Bulgarian bathtub was snidely telling me. There were small puddles of soapy water around the gold base stand and the room smelled extra nice. I picked up the scent of strawberry musk - I had bought those oils last week. I had probably also purchased the bath soaps which bubbled out of the water filling the tub. The two occupants within initially did not notice my presence. J was apparently naked and comfortably soaked inside the tub, his head thrown back and eyes closed. The reason for his enchanted reverie arose from the bubbles like an Egyptian goddess ascending from the river nile. Long hair, full breasts and envious legs one of which lifted up slowly as she stood tall and rested a right leg on the side of *moan* Bulgarian bathtub, then simultaneously thrusting the cleft of her hips into J’s face. He accepted the gesture with open palms, and that was when the paper bag dropped from my hands and clattered to the floor.


Hi People...

In short words,thats an intro from a little casual project i'll be indulging hence. To be privy to subsequent going-ons in Memoir, click here and Follow.
*Wink, you know you wanna* I promise, this time, i will be consistent! And ehmm, we'll discuss more on this later.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Random Fridays, some R18s.

So folks were around on Thursday night whilst sex and the city was on. I realize that you never get old enough not to cringe when someone uses the word “masturbate” with your parents closeby. Even worse is trying to enjoy a good sex scene. Weird + * shivers*.Brrrr!

Talking about sex and the city, it seems that everywhere I turn these days,some1 is talking about ATM!I used to think I was sexually liberated, but the more I consider ATM, the more I want to gag! Yiiish, ATM, how?!!!Many experiments and experiences, I am kinkily open to, but this one…ehmmm,I dunno o!!!

On a more sexually acceptable note, help!!!I close my eyes these days and all I see are long legs spread eagle next to a waiting steaming bag of French fries and cool ketchup. *Hmmm dinner is served*!Dang! Bear with me, this was initially horny Thursday post.

In Italy, we say: 'Vedi Napoli e poi muori'!!! In english: 'See Naples and die'. i.e, be so much overwhelmed by the wonder and beauty that is the city Naples! CluelessinStils,you brought this wonder back to my mind. *Sighhhh*
*insert google popular opinion*:some have argued that what the phrase really means is that Naples is such a dangerous and chaotic city that it will kill you!)lwkmf!Try Las Gidi!

I plan to do some major reorganizing of my life. I’ve been told lately that I’m way too serious, too intense and career oriented. With certain changes, my next job will cum my finance skills and my writing respite. T.Notes Affirmation: I will get my next job in the finance dept of a media/arts oriented company. This consultancy business sef,wahala too much, everybody expects you to know everything! I’m thinking CNN, BBC, Sky, or flatly theater. No joke, I will live this life to the max. Don’t try me, I back up my talk with action! Wait n see.

Have you read Cindy Trim’s book? One of the fastest growing art forms today is called “spoken word”, Throngs of people gather in clubs, schools, cafes, church auditoriums, stadiums and theaters just to hear the poetic, pulsating rhyme spoken by artists who by virtue of their creativity and talent move audiences to emotional highs and lows merely by what comes out of their mouth. Like painters creating moving masterpieces in vibrant colors, these artists “paint” on the canvass of the human soul. *Awesome*

Do u know what I think would rock hard? A blogger’s poetry jam/spoken word exhibition. Get the best of us lot to do some few minutes off-head lyricism. If you are entirely clueless, check out poetry jams on youtube or google the nuyorican. #1fan! I tried putting together one of such last year, we’d planned venue at icecream factory, we were literally gonna bring that place down, but were at a loss for quality writers. Then…I found blogsvillenaija. I can already see it in my head now...!Dang i love theater!

Speaking about collaborative efforts, does anybody here read memoirs of a slu…shhkid on 360nobs?!*NUTS* Gotta admit, Mr noble over there is fast becoming some sort of self proclaimed celebrity! The guy can definitely tell a story. Truth or fables, he’s pulling a neat crowd! I actually think 360nobs is fast outshining bellanaija.

MC Hammer style boxers are no good for the nuts. This was a mistake! That's what happens when you're behind on laundry days!

ATM =....I can't even bring myself to write it!

Monday, August 2, 2010

Of Quickies, Newbies and Absentiee Bloggers!

You remember how good an impromptu quickie feels like???You're dressed up for church and waiting for your missus to finish up her makeup. You know you're running late,for god's sake, she ought to hurry already. She appears, and your breath briefly siezes!Gosh,she looks like something right out of GQ!Short brown dress,low v-cut around the bust, her hairs cropped into a cute bun,she's drapped a white scarf around her neck, red lipstick and high heels. You get up and dang,you know you're going to be late!

Ehmmm,so i had a smashing weekend!
Dirty minds!We camped out after church at my pal's place. They just got married; we've given them well enough time and space to finish up their dirty. Wife's preggy for proof! Sunday was for grubs and movies!We saw "unthinkable" with Samuel L. Jackson!Awesome!!!!Great times with friends, thats what good days are made of!

Moving on!

A toast n a quickie welcome to these snatzy sounding newcomers:
Clueless in Stiletos
Broken Wings

For those who haven't spotted them,be busybody like me!!!

And on another T.notes,BLOGGER'S GETTING DRY N BORINGGGGG!!!!PEOPLE,UPDATE YOUR PAGES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!Yiiish,blog rounds these days is such a bore!!!

Matter of fact,think i'll institute my own T.Notes awards for most outstanding weekly blogs. Do you know the power bloggers around the world are wielding these days?People need to be thinking around the box...think think outside the box people!On a personal T.Notes,in a little while,i'll be up-ing my game on a certain project i've got scheming in mind and *evil wink*,i'll be looking for some colorful writers to come aboard. Exclusive VIP invites and i ain't afraid to break all politically correct rules!People with spunk,thats my bag!

T.Notes to Talkaholic,got your mail,we'll need to talk further later. My mind's foggy for now.