Note to self

Newsflash:
This life you're living....
that's your life.
Yes, your life.
The only one allocated to you.
This is it.
Newsflash uh?

So kick your legs in and make the best of it. All of your wanderlusting and daydreaming...
Just stop.
Seriously.  Just stop it.
Don't let your own life pass you by
In the midst of it all...


And don't forget to live in neat concentric circles
where at the Core lies you.
Love you first.
Followed by that inner circle of friends and family.
Choose wisely.
Every other interaction does not deserve a sleepless night.
So stop it.
Seriously, Just stop.

Who is afraid of Skinny Jeans and Bloggers known as #Kiah...and The 14 for 14 Challenge: The T.Notes' Blog Sniffer alerts

 

Image Source: svpply.com

1. For the life of me, I will never understand the absurdity known as male skinny jeans. It's just not right. I went shopping over the weekend, and huffed and puffed in a tiny changing room, in a bit to test on a fresh pair of #skinnies. I fell over twice in the process, bruised my elbow, banged my knee-cap and concluded that the gods of fashion have truly gone mad. I remember my sister going through this same ordeal during every jeans affair. I could possibly justify the female's skinny jeans argument, since even I was quite impressed at the outcome of my own backside all neatly bubbled up and packaged up for the perfect #selfie. But i will never understand why a man should have to spend any more than five effortless seconds putting on a pair of jeans, only to realize that you cannot zip it all the way up without causing collateral damage to certain crucial body parts. I therefore put it to you, that this business of male skinny jeans is just wrong on every level. #BootCutForLife. #PowerToTheResistance.
2. Kiah and I get along like Immigration Police and an illegal immigrant. Attempting to put a figure on the number of disagreements i have had with Kiah would be a fine exercise in futility. I have concluded that we might just be a little too like-minded and equally egoistic to peacebly exist the same air-space for five seconds without falling-out. Infact, this is what a typical T.Notes/Kiah Interraction looks like: Hey you!#abuse#abuse#Lol!#abuse#Lol!#Loooool!#abuse#Lol!!!#abuse#Rotfwl!!!#abuse#Ehennn, so what's up?#.
3. I have chosen to review Kiah's blog (as my April review for the 14-for-14 challenge), since she has recently kicked off a new website. Hence, technically she counts as a newbie, despite being on here since 19-gogoro. I'll keep it short, since most people are familiar with the blogger known as Kiah, and would agree that she writes a reasonaly dang good story. Bear in mind that she remains my humbled protege, and Kiah's art remains guided by a certain more experienced writer & blogger.
4. I would dare say that Kiah is a writer in the true sense of the word, by her ability to spin diverse stories quickly and effortlessly. I would often peruse every new blog entry on her page and wonder at how quickly a new story appears frequently, yet maintaining the same style that is characteristic of Kiah's scripts. So, if you do know Kiah, or are being newly acquainted by virtue of this quick note, stop by her new page here and drop a friendly hello, because in reality, Kiah is just a softie at heart.

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Intro: The 14-for-14 challange by Janyl. (Click here to familiarize yourelf with the '14 for 14 challenge'). I recently accepted this challenge to go on a quest searching for brand new blogs...with the bull-headed conviction that all creativty is not lost within the nigeria-blogsphere. And also desperate to prove that, contrary to recently popular opinion, not all of the new blog pages are uninteresting (to put it mildly). This is my fifth post into that journey.

So that's how we started something...

I was lazily skimming through blogs today, instead of dutifully replying comments...
And I happened on some conversations and comments that are now five, six year old on some blogs...

For a second, the reality of how we have grown through these years dawned on me.
How some of us have unconsciously been a part of each other's journeys...

Five, six, seven years down the line...
From one post to the next, unintentionally wading along through life together...
Shared frustrations, excitements, pains...celebrations...

*The strength in short words, brief comments, epistled replies, the banter and the 'off cursors-check-ups...*
It's funny how life has happened...and still happens here in this unofficial and uncoordinated space, without anybody realizing...

For a second,  it dawned on me how maybe we started something here...

That whilst some moaned about 'good ole days gone',
We were creating our own generation of 'good times'.
This unintentional generation of 'now greying newbies'...
Conceived somewhere in between when moldy veterans dropped off,
and those who picked up cursors from those 2009'ish blogging years.

A right blend of that old time quirk, infused with that kick of youth..
Into fine personal-type blogging.

I like it.
I like that I'm a part of that new generation,  with a quickly blossoming history...
I like that I know a bunch of these folks by name, handle, and by the unpretentiousness in-between those five, six, seven years of shared existences.

I don't want to list names,  because I will obviously miss out on a few,
So yeah, if we ever shared any conversation or comment that is now five years old...
It's been real folks...
and i think it's worth being proud of.

I find it amusing when I visit a blog and find my comments and conversations from six years ago...
I doubt there is any such beauty in 'ghosting'.

This is a random and meaningless post... but yeah...I should be getting back to those comments...alas sleep beckons....

it's not about race...?

Father said I'll do well in New York.

'You'll contend with the best of them and soar high with this mind of yours...
But you may only go so far
until you reach glass ceilings.

When they shut the door in your face the second time, don't waste a moment, just come back home T.N....

Just come back home....'

Father's words echoed in my ears all through today as I started lifeless into my work station...

Your technical skills are undoubtedly remarkable, but we think Gareth is a more suitable fit....

Would somebody please remind me what I am doing in this place?

Race is not the issue...that's what I've always said to myself every morning, until today....

Today I conceded to defeated thoughts about returning home.

#Catching Feelings...and The 14 for 14 Challenge: The T.Notes' Blog Sniffer alerts - (JdB's Zone)

March Review:

I have recently stumbled on JdB's blog, (which is my march review for the 14-for-14 challenge), and his blog fondly got me reminiscing about that 80's t.v show #Wonder years.  JdB's blog is a form of diarised reflections about his own #wonder years of growing up and navigating the often confusing terrains of youth. His train of thoughts easily depict the typical Nigerian youth, so it's easy to recognize his experiences and follow through without getting lost. I like that his blog does not assume to be your Dalai Lama guide to eternal fulfilment, but instead prompts you to recall and draw useful insight from your own forgotten experiences such as cringy teenage crushes or about....
 
Catching Feelings...#CF.

I never liked that phrase 'Catching Feelings'. Maybe because the imagery that quickly comes to mind is...a self obsessed girl of reasonable allurement...delivering a corky warning to some hapless young man who has grown comfortable with his interractions with her. She would be smacking chewing gum noisily, with a small grin teasing the side of her lips and squeal...
"Don't tell me you're catching feelings for me?!"

#In situations like this, I always feel deeply sorry for the person on the receiving end of that coffin-nailing statement. Because the state of #CF is a torturous place to be in. Wild emotions that gun straight for your soul and puts down anchor to the most vulnerable artery of your already sensitive heart. Making you become a self-professed poet of sorts, talking deep gibberish about how her presence carries eternal rays of sunshine that makes your heart dance...and the most troubling part being that, you truly mean every single word.

#CF is like a beautifully wretched sickness with no easy cure, except to allow the virus run its due course through your system; ravage every shred of common sense within you and reduce you to a worm of a person. Do you remember...dissecting every interaction with that person, and sifting through every conversation in an unending desperate search for reciprocated affection. And the build-up to that eventful moment when you finally build up the courage to have that weighty "conversation". When subservient and senseless, you hand over the last bit of your self esteem, and confess to someone that....

#I'm going crazy crazy, just thinking about you babay...(cue some throwback K-Ci & JoJo).
 And how her response changed everything....

Thanks to JdB's blog, i cringed today with a chuckle as i vividly recalled being in this situation and can properly conclude that when you truly catch feelings, you are done for...a proper #Gobe situation indeed.

P.S: If you find yourself  drowing in #CF, a useful tip is found in...Counting ten blue-eyed Bambi(s) before indulging any sort of emotional response.

So, You should check out JdB's blog and drop a friendly comment for the following reasons:

1. The fact that one of his random posts inspired this quickie: #Catching Feelings.
2. The fact that i can count on one hand the number of guy-blogs herein on blogger and somedays it's like walking around a lingerie departmental store in here.

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Intro: The 14-for-14 challange by Janyl. (Click here to familiarize yourelf with the '14 for 14 challenge'). I recently accepted this challenge to go on a quest searching for brand new blogs...with the bull-headed conviction that all creativty is not lost within the nigeria-blogsphere. And also desperate to prove that, contrary to recently popular opinion, not all of the new blog pages are uninteresting (to put it mildly). This is my fourth post into that journey.

...about falling in love, fancy models, and all that 'ish.

I have a 2am idea...

I was up late last night building an amazing Pricing model - a very impressive work of art, if I dare say so.
Somewhere in the middle of all that headache,  I had an idea about falling in love.
Don't ask me about the correlation between love and financial markets,
Because I bet you I can build you a model on that too.

Anyways, in summary, a pricing model is a fancy algorithm that predicts prices in the financial markets.
The main building block of a model are what we call 'factors'.
So,  you throw in a bunch of hopefully 'relevant factors', fit a statistical curve and if you've done your maths right, your model should be a fairly accurate tool for predicting the future.
Now you can go into the world and make some money.

I think falling in love is a lot like building a pricing model.
And I think the best time to build your model is when you are young,  naive and fairly inexperienced.
Here's my simple reason why:
Too many factors in your model spoil its accuracy.

When I was young, my formular for love was simple - emotional connection,  faith, and fair looks.
Those were the simple building blocks on which I predicted the future of my relationship.
And thinking about it today,  it was more than enough.
The older and wiser we get, the more complicated the whole thing becomes.
Until you are staying up till stupid hours, with a confusion induced headache,  wondering about choices and randomly testing three thousand and forty odd factors in a gambling space of mathematical probabilities.

Here's what it looks like:

She is so witty, i could listen to her talk all night whilst i get lost staring into those baby blues...
Sounds like a good factor, so you frantically hurry back to your model and...#Fit, Test, Fail!
Gosh I love his self confidence,  the way his voice commands attention and his charm, ooh, his charm..
That should be a good factor too...Quick, quick, #Fit, Test, Fail!
You get my drift...

I think many people are like me in that lone office space at 2am,
Staring with eccentric hope at an inanimate computer screen
With a bunch of daft factors scattered about our lives
Making the same frantic mistake over and over again
Fit, test, fail, Fit, test, fail...arghhhh, somebody just make it work!

So, three billion people on the face of your planet, multiply that by a sample space of forty odd factors per person.
Your assignment - choose and fit your best 'factors' and pick one person!
Even for the best model builders, it's a fool's errand nightmare!
And I doubt God intended the whole process to be that complicated.

Hence, as i wrapped up my own modelling exercise, I concluded that, in effect the formular is simple:
#Less is more, and that's just ok.

So here's my uncomplicated conclusion:
Choose your best and three easiest factors.
E.g, emotional connection,  faith, and fair looks.
Fit your curve, allow yourself fall in love, leave the rest to fate and #get out of the office!

It is afterall, a game of chance, good fortune and mathematical probabilities.

Some Lynxxx...in toast to #GettingItRight.

Ten blue-eyed Bambi(s)

I met Bambi whilst watching waterfalls on the Coasts of Amalfi.

A spunky teenage tour guide who reminded me a lot of myself.

He wondered about my adult fascination with crashing waters,

So I told him how they remind me of my emotions,

Wild and often times without control.

Bambi found us a vantage spot under a thousand meters of cascading waters.

His only reply to my rant was a short hum of that old TLC song - Waterfalls.

The one admonishing fools who waste precious lives chasing reckless passions.

I understood the pun but proceeded to enlighten his naivety.

I told him how life had endowed some of us with excessive portions of human emotions.

Love and Lust, Joys and Laughter, Passion and Infatuation.

We would love to heights of Kilimanjaro,

then spiral to the depths of meaningless depression in the same single breathe.

Riding every wave of emotional high like a fool - none the wiser even after every let down.

Bambi misunderstood all of the symbolism in my tirade, 

Diverting instead to tell about how he'd once fallen in love with a local girl.

A wild beauty who caused his heart to flutter every time she walked by.

He said he'd found his feelings to be like a reckless woman.

The ones who whisper wretched desires but only delivered fleeting nothingness.

Heartbroken and defiant, Bambi claimed he now mastered the fine art of  emotional control being able to entirely divert his emotions at will.

I found a beautiful contradiction in Amalfi as we watched in silence.

I wondered about taming what ought to be natural and unconstrained

Just like majestic waterfalls.

I imagined about finding a miracle tap-screw somewhere within the jagged crevices of my mind.

One that could turn off my feelings -

To control its chaos whenever it proved a nuisance to my own wellbeing.

Some days I loathe the often chaotic mess of my emotional state of mind,

So I asked Bambi to share his mind games.

He had a boyish twinkle in his eyes,

As he told me to simply –

Never indulge any sort of emotional response until I had first counted:

Ten blue-eyed Bambi(s).

It is really that simple, he promised.

And if all else fails,

Just hum along to that old TLC song.

This is a T.Note