I Was Just 21

Is it just me, or does a woman's age begin to speed like light once she reaches the age of 21. Once upon a time, I could not wait to turn 21. 21, to me, was the real legal age. The problem with turning 21 is that 22 immediately follows - and then 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 ... 114... and before you know it, you're wondering where all the time went. I feel like I just blogged about my birthday. Yet, as it is now, another birthday will soon be upon me.

Today is the last day of August. I do not know about everyone else, but the 1st of September, for me, marks the beginning of the end of the year. And the end of the year marks the beginning of a New Calendar Year and a New Birth Year for me.

At this point, I am very well aware of the thoughts that are running through your mind right now, and trust me, I am just as worried. What on earth are you going to give me for my birthday?!?! Ah, I don't quite know myself. This gift-receiving thing gets more difficult each year. Let's not forget what happens exactly one month after my birthday - Valentine's Day!! (February 14th). A shy smile creeps up on my face each time I think of this year's Valentine. But I digress...

I really was just 21 a little while ago - or so it seems. Now, the memory of being 21 is so distant. I don't even remember what I did for my 21st birthday. On another note, the people at Best Buy said Nwoke Ocha will be ready today. I'm not going to wait for them to call me. I'll just go there by myself and demand to see my boo, and he better be doing great. Can't wait to rub my fingers all over him.

The Silly Things We Do (5)

No matter how hard I try not to laugh, I feel like there is always something funny going on in my life. Somehow, I find myself surrounded by people that say and do funny things - even when they don't mean to. Apart from my dad, only one other man has made me laugh till I have tears in my eyes. But today's post is about my dad.

My mother enjoys baking. She's one of those women who love baking cakes, frying chin-chins, bons, and puff-puff, and baking meat-pies. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less about baking and all that ish (but I do love eating them all, of course). Why suffer to bake stuff when I can just buy them?

But I think my dislike/disinterest in baking and frying snacks is my dad's fault. Yes, dad's fault. It all happened several years ago in Nigeria. I was about 12 or 13. I was curious about baking a cake - even though I had no recipe whatsoever. I pretty much knew or thought I knew everything that went into the cake (flour, eggs, milk, sugar, butter, nutmeg, can't remember what else), but I didn't know in what particular order it was supposed to go in. Did it matter? Anyway, mom won't let me use her oven. She did not want me to waste her gas.

So what did I do? After mixing my cake, I poured it into a metal bowl, and then, I placed the metal bowl in a boiling pot of hot water. It was kind of like making moi moi. I don't know if that cake still qualifies as having been baked. Maybe it was cooked. Or boiled. Anything but baked. It was not baked.

Where does dad come in? Well, dad was my boyfriend, you know. I used to pet him like he was my man or something. I used to clip his nails, clean out his ear wax, and wash his clothes. Whenever he fell asleep on the couch, I was there to put a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body. Dad said I would make a great wife. [Hey, his words not mine.. but I don't disagree, of course. Hehe]. So that day, I could not wait to have my boyfriend (dad) taste my cake - a cake I loved by the way.

Dad sat at the table, and I served him a psychedelic slice of cooked cake. Mom, my cousin Nachi, the help Ngozi, and I were all gathered around dad, waiting for his judgment. It was as if my heart was in my hands. I could not wait to hear the verdict. Dad took a bite, churned, swallowed, took another bite, churned, and swallowed again.

Then while still holding the cake in his hand, he said, "This is nothing but akpu and sugar..." After which the entire family - except me - fell out laughing.

...And there, my friends, is the reason why I don't bake! Yes, that's my story, and yes, I am sticking to it!

The Silly Things We Do (1)

The Silly Things We Do (2)

The Silly Things We Do (3)

The Silly Things We Do (4)

I've Got Good News!

Or maybe not...

For starters, I told you about the waist vs hips phenomenom. Men prefer women whose waist is 30% smaller than their hips. Unfortunately, mine is just 23% smaller than my hips. You can read that post HERE. Secondly, I brought you news that at the age of 27, a woman's fertility begins to significantly decline. I am yet to receive thank-you e-mails for that by the way. You can read that post HERE. Lastly, I brought news from Uju, my med-student friend: she said that for each child a woman gives birth to and breast feeds for a year, she decreases her chances of breast cancer by 11.4%. You can read that post HERE.

So I spoke to Uju again, and she gave me more news. I'm starting to unappreciate her med school. According to Uju (who learned this from her Professor), the most attractive a woman would ever be is when she is the age of 22-23. Obviously, 22 is more attractive than 23. It seems like 23 was only added there to make us feel better. But for people like me that are past 23, it makes no difference.

If you are not yet 22, then lucky you!! You can look forward to being 22 and extremely attractive. For those that are already 22, make hay while the sun still shines. For those that are 23, make serious, serious, SERIOUS hay while the sun still shines (and is about to do down for good). For those that are past 23, oh well!! All we can do now is use enough foundation (popuarly known as pancake by our Nigerian men) to make ourselves look 22...or 23 at least. Some lipstick, eye pencil et al will help. Hmm, I wonder if anti-aging lotions come into play at this point, or should I wait till I age?

I don't know about you, but I'm really sick of receiving news about women from Uju. How is it that they never say anything about the men? Don't tell me they don't have some issues of their own. Seriously, all this time, I thought I was my most attractive right now. I mean, when I look back at past pictures, I think to myself, "I look wayyy better right now than I did before," so how is it now that I'm hearing my most attractive age has come and passed me by.

**SIGH**

Uju is only responsible for the news about breast feeding and the news about attractiveness, but all in favor of shutting her up, say AYE!!

Life Without My Nwoke Ocha

Nwoke Ocha = White Man.

My Nwoke Ocha is sick and in the hospital, and since his admission in the hospital, life has just not been the same. I never knew how much I relied on him to get things done until he fell ill. I haven't seen him all of today. I didn't see him all of yesterday either. He got admitted on Wednesday, and since then, I have not been myself. The situation is grim, but I have been praying and trusting God to heal him, so that he comes back the same way he left - without the illness, of course. Oh, my Nwoke Ocha, hurry home!! I miss you something wicked.

I know this post is supposed to be about my Nwoke Ocha, but permit me to vent for a minute here: whose bright idea was it for women to menstruate AND be bloated while at it??? Okay, fine, I think I know whose idea it was. But seriously... this is soooo not funny! Ms. Flow came yesterday, and today, I am in a very pissed off mood. I'd like to think I am pissed off because my Nwoke Ocha isn't feeling well, but I know that is not the real reason.

Here are a few comforting words to describe how I am currently feeling: Angry. Pissed off. Bloated. Uncomfortable. Irritated. Moody. Emotional. Restless. Really, really pissed off.

The only thing that is worse than being pissed off is being pissed off and not even knowing why you're pissed off. I was just on the phone with Busola and everything was fine until that discomfort under my abdomen started again. All of a sudden, I was about to bite the poor girl's head off. There is no reason why I should be feeling like my waist is vibrating! And this is not the kind of vibration that comes with a happy ending. Speaking of that vibration, I ought to discover it sometime in my lifetime, no?

*****END OF VENTING*****

So Nwoke Ocha is ill. Did I tell you that already? Perhaps, it'll help if I stop mentioning the name and just say who the heck he is. He is my white Sony laptop - hence the name (which was given by Mr. Shoes, by the way...). My laptop went off and won't come on. They think it might be the motherboard. Darn Best Buy people don't give loaner laptops (even though I even paid $300 insurance on the laptop, and it's not even a year yet..). Seriously, Best Buy sucks!! And I think that is just one more thing that is pissing me off right now. I'm using mom's laptop, and it sucks that I have to keep going incognito whenever I'm checking my blog (or visiting any site that has "Verastic" in it.) Wouldn't want mom finding this site or its many, many relatives. Of course, it's almost a fool's dream that mom would never find this site because I blog with my real name.

In less than ten hours, Verastically Speakin will go LIVE. Do tune in. We'll be talking about women who are in their 30s, accomplished, and single Speaking of that, I think I need to call up my co-hosts and make sure we're all on the same page. ---> And that's another reason why I'm pissed! Why the heck have I not called till now (the 11th hour)? Anyway, the show will be LIVE in less than ten hours. Don't miss it. Fear not. I'll be mighty nice while on air.

Lastly, AfriPRO Houston, in collaboration with African Business Council of Texas brings you the Houston Africa Business Expo 2009 --> today, August 22nd 2009. Watch the video and click HERE for more details.

For The Love Of Tigeress

Verastically Speakin Talk Radio will be airing on Saturday, and we'll be talking about women who are accomplished, at least 30, and single. It's gonna be hawt!! Tune in www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic And if you have any comments on the issue, you know where to reach me ---> radio@verastic.com

I'll be co-hosting with Good Naija Girl, Rosie, KC (a guy), a girl in London whose real name I cannot disclose at the moment because I don't know if she wants it disclosed, and... Tigeress! Yes, our very own Tigeress. I e-mailed her and begged her to co-host, but the girl - such an extortionist! - insisted that we meet face to face. So meet, we did.

On Friday, August 14th 2009, I had a busy day, but I made it all the way to see Tigeress (even though she was about 40 minutes away from me. Yes, this is love), and we met. The babe is fine ooo! And I got to play with her birthday hair. But we forgot to take pics. Some other time.

On my way, my face looked just the way I felt: tired. So while I was driving, before I got to the tunnel, I took the opportunity to do a little make-up. Make-up here = only eye pencil. There is a reason why we are advised not to do make-up and drive at the same time. The way the eye pencil was drawn everywhere but where I wanted it, it looked like I had suffered two black eyes on one eye. Even I, was afraid of myself. I was eventually able to wipe it off and make it look descent. All for the love of Tigeress, of course.

When I was almost on her street, I had to park and turn my hazzard lights on. Why? My magic lip gloss was missing! Okay, it's not magic per se, but it's my favorite, and I wanted to put it on - just for Tigeress. Alas, that did not come to be. I was stuck with vaseline *sigh*

I planned on leaving at 8 PM (cause I just had to be home in time to watch Monk @ 9:00 PM), but that didn't happen. You see, Tigeress took a liking - more like a "loving" - to me and practically went down on her knees and begged me to stay. As the kind-hearted person that I am, I couldn't say no. How can one say no to that birthday hair? So stay, I did.

We were going to get chicken from some Naija joint, but that didn't happen. Tigeress found interest in something someone else. Unfortunately, I left 10 minutes before her friend came back with the chicken. My only regret is that Bumight went there after me, and I fear that she ate what would have been mine. I hoped she will choke on it, but she's still tweeting; I think that means she did not choke. One of two things could have happened: 1 - She didn't eat the chicken. 2 - She ate the chicken and didn't choke. Aaaahhh.

Well, that's it for now, folks!! Be back Saturday.

P.S. This Saturday show is attracting a lotta attention. I wonder why. I may or may not be getting two more co-hosts. Hey, the more the merrier, right? But boy... so much estrogen! Thank goodness I have a man on the show too. A little testosterone to calm my their nerves.

I Wish To Go Back...

It's funny how when you're a child, you spend everyday dreaming about becoming an adult. When I was a child, that was my number one problem. I needed to become an adult, so I could do so many things. I wanted to wear make-up. I wanted to have money. I wanted to paint my toe nails. I wanted to be in the University. I wanted to talk to boys without hiding. I wanted to get married. I wanted to have children. I wanted to live alone, have a job, and be in charge of my life. I wanted to grow breasts and have my period. I wanted to go out at night and party till dawn. I wanted to be an adult and not be forced to go to bed at 9:00 PM. I wanted to stay up till dawn. That was my problem: I just wanted to be an adult.

So now, I'm an adult. I have not accomplished some of those dreams, but I have accomplished most. I have a drawer full of make-up. I can paint my face anyway I want it, and I have gotten quite good at it, if I do say so myself. But sometimes, I don't even feel like doing it. I have money - compared to how much I had when I was a child. But I'm still broke. It's like the more I have, the more I need. I paint my nails any color I wish. Lime green. Hot pink. Turquoise blue. Whatever floats my boat. But nail polish color is no longer an issue. Who cares the color I paint it?

I am in the University. Sometimes, I feel like dropping out. Too much driving. Too many assignments. Too much stress. I can now talk to boys any time and anyhow without anyone complaining. The problem is that I don't want to talk to boys. Boys are no longer an issue. Been there, done that. Next ===> I am not married yet, but I still want to be married. Perhaps, I obsess over it more and more - largely because it is an obsession I have grown to fancy. Either that or my booming-career obsession. Oh, there is also the one about going to an all-you-can-eat suya joint. I do not have children yet, but I already have plans for them. I'm already taking notes on how not-to raise my children. I have a job, but I don't live alone. I can't actually afford living alone at this time, but if I could, I wouldn't. That'd be one more ish to worry about.

I am in charge of my life, but I'd rather not be. I'd rather relinquish the charge to God. It doesn't feel so good being in charge of myself. Too many responsibilites. Too many things to think of. So I'd rather have God do all the thinking while I do the living. After all, He is able. I am not. I have obviously grown breasts - way bigger than I even imagined (need a picture?), and I now see my period - sometimes twice a month! This Ms. Flow that I used to cry and wish for, I now wish she'd not come so often. Wearing a pad for five days and having blood gush out from between your legs in not very comfy. Too graphic, I know. Sorry. It doesn't help that my waist feels like it's vibrating when Ms. Flow is around.

I can party at night - all night - till dawn, and I get tons of invitations to do so, but suddenly, it doesn't seem so appetizing anymore. I'd rather just go home and climb into bed. I can now stay up till dawn (instead of sleeping), but I'd rather not do so. I find myself begging for sleep. Right now, my eyes are a little red. I ought to be sleeping, but it's the third day, and Verastically Livin' must be updated. *singing* Sleep, sleep go away... come again another day ... little big Vera wants to write.

These days I have new worries: money - I'm broke... I need money to do this and that. School - I'm tired of it. Wanna graduate already. Too many assignments here and there. Work - don't feel like going. Would rather sleep in. Career - when will it take off already? Will it ever take off? What if it doesn't? God, I don't wanna be a liability on my future husband. Husband - that's another thing to worry about.

Aaaahhhh.... what I would give to go back to being a child. I just want to worry about obtaining the permission to paint my toe nails any color I want to. Want to go back to having a hot pink plastic lunch box with a pretty Jasmine Princess designed on it, packed full with a sandwich (or a little plate of fried yam/plantain) and a box of ribena. Want to go back to assembling in the school hall and reciting how and why children should be in school by 7:30 AM. Want to go back to my canary yellow blouse and grey skirt uniform, completed with an extremely white pair of socks and a pair of brown sandals. Oh, and the hair too. Who can forget the weaving hair styles? The "chookoo," the "police cap," the "upside down basket," and my personal favorite, the "love come down" style.

Ah... the days of sheer bliss!!! JJJ

Happily Single & All That Other Stuff...

Happily married ... of course!

Happily single ... what?

Yeah, that's what we're talking about on the radio on Saturday. Set your reminders! Saturday, August 15th 2009 :: 10:00 AM U.S. EST/ 3:00 PM GMT time

Has everyone heard last Saturday's show? It was so much fun that the show became full and couldn't take anymore calls. It's so unfortunate that so many people were scrambling to hear my very sexy voice, but couldn't get through. Oh, life can be so cruel! Or maybe it was full because there were so many women tying up the line, tryna hear the voices of the men I had. Shameless. You all are shameless. But who can blame you? I was giddy too. The last time I had so much testosterone was uhm --- uhm --- never! If you haven't heard my men tell us what men want, just check out the audio player on the right sidebar. Or you can download it HERE.

P.S. If anyone still wants Ekene Agabu's number, home address, social security number, date & place of birth, age, height, weight, favorite color, and of course, most importantly, favorite toothpaste, I'm here to help .... for a very minimal and convenient fee of one bottle of any of the following perfumes ===> Pour Femme by Bvlgari, Romance by Ralph Lauren, Miracle Forever by Lancome, Nina by Nina Ricci, Rock n Rose by Valentino, Diamonds by Emperio Armani, and lastly, Vera Wang by Vera Wang. Vera is my homegirl!

Next week Saturday (August 22nd), I'll be doing the show about women who are 30, accomplished, and single. Amazingly, I still do not have an actual co-host. I have potential co-hosts, but nothing definite yet. I have come up with five reasons why it's so difficult to find co-hosts:

a. All the single 30 year olds have now regressed back to being 29.

b. All the singles have gotten married since I scheduled the show.

c. Ever since I put statuses on Twitter & Facebook, all the single, 30 year old women have vanished off the face of the virtual earthd (so they know nothing of this upcoming show that I write of).

d. They want to co-host, but they don't know that I cannot read their mind. They do not know that I need them to contact me ASAP ===> radio@verastic.com 1-443-934-9039

e. None of the above. According to one beautiful, single, 30 year old woman, they're just "shocked that they're 30 and single..." If that be the case, please come out of the shock! I need you.

Look, peeps, snap out of it and contact me. I have begged. I have asked. I have cajoled. I have pleaded. What the heck else am I supposed to do here? I'm short of demanding that every woman show proof of age and marital status. Don't make me....!!

Tune in on Saturday. I'll be co-hosting with Ezenwanyi (and Funmie, maybe).

P.S. My apologies for not having replied the comments in the previous post. My spirit has been willing, but my body has been very, very weak.

Kokolette 1 & 2

Has anyone had the misfortune of watching the Koko Mansion? I read on Bumight's blog that she watched it, so off I went to watch it too. Before I started watching it, I was alert and oriented X 3 (times 3). I was aware of my name, the time, and my location. Five minutes into it, I forgot my location and time. Barely remembered my name sef. Yes, it was that boring! A buncha girls in a house doing nothing and living in peace & harmony. Oh, yeah...there goes the drama and suspense. And... there goes five minutes of my life I will never, ever get back. Great.

Skipped through most of it. I just couldn't handle it. Julius Agwu came in at some point and started misyarning. He said the show is not really about D'Banj, but rather about womanhood. Say what????? I'm not sure how 12 girls living in one house and competing for one man is about womanhood. The koko crew claim that D'banj is taking "the bull by the horns" and ending the debate on what to look out for in an ideal woman. There goes your womanhood. Womanhood ko kokolettehood ni.

I can't be too mad at Julius for misyarning like that. He was paid thousands to come and sit there and misyarn, so he's forgiven. I bet that as the words were leaving his mouth, it took everything he had to surpress a laugh. Bet he was thinking, "Chei Julius... you sabi lie ooo!" Enjoy this episode. If you fall asleep and knock your head on the table, just wake up and try again. The rest of the episodes can be found on YouTube.

Oh, and what's this I hear about Koko Mansion being over?? I'm just starting to get used to having a boring Naija show to catch online. And then they just take it off like that?? Some times you think you know people...

What Do Men Want???

Just when I thought the upcoming show on Saturday couldn't get better, it did!! Don't be found missing on Saturday, August 8th 2009 as I and THREE able-bodied, intelligent men discuss that which we [women] have all been dying to know: What Do Men Want? [Do I hear a yum-yum from the woman beings?]

For so long, the question has been, 'What Do Women Want?' It was [still is] so prevalent that an entire movie had to be dedicated to it. After watching the movie, I walked away with a new question: What Do Men Want??? So let's find out, shall we?

Before you read any further, do take five seconds to do that poll by the right sidebar. Now, if the poll is anything to go by, it seems like men want respect and good sex. My twitter friend, Kookie Jar was kind enough to direct me to Steve Harvey's book, Think Like A Lady; Act Like A Man. From there, I learned that men want three things: support, love, and sex.

Since I am not a man, I cannot say for sure what men want. For this reason (and also the fact that it'd be great to have a little loads of testosterone on Verastically Speakin'), I have the pleasure and honor of co-hosting with three men: Ekene Agabu, Christian [Chris], and Mustapha. Yippee!!

First, I have Ekene Agabu. He's a writer and a speaker whose distinct focus is on sex and relationships. Yes, that's his picture on the left. Yes, he's very nice. No, I don't know his marital status - yet. For those that have inquired [about his marital status], tune in on Saturday; ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set ye free!

Second, I have Christian [we can call him Chris]. He's quite opinionated, and not at all conservative. I will try my best to warn Chris to keep it clean. Oh, he speaks French. Oh la la. Unfortunately, I don't have Chris's picture - yet. I'll update this if I get one. I do not know his marital status either. But together, we can find out.

Last, but not least, I have Mustapha! He has a lotttt to say! I know his marital status, but I'll let him say it himself. So tune in on Saturday. He'll probably be the middle man between Chris and Ekene. Or maybe not. Saturday will tell. Unfortunately, I do not have Mustapha's picture either. If he sends it, I'll definitely update. Watch this space.

There is still time for questions/comments. If you have any questions/comments for me and/or these men, e-mail them to radio@verastic.com Alternatively, you could text your questions to 1-443-934-9039. Include your name and where you're writing/texting from.

In case I have not said it before, Verastically Speakin Talk Radio isn't just about me. In fact, I don't think it's about me at all. That said, I am always looking for new co-hosts. If you're interested, e-mail radio@verastic.com or call 1-443-934-9039. If you have an idea for a show that will be hawt, please send the idea ASAP.

I am still looking for co-hosts for the Female, Accomplished, Over 30, & Single show. If you're interested in co-hosting with me, contact me RIGHT NOW. If you're wondering about the criteria, read this.

The Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio airs every Saturday @ 10:00 AM U.S. EST time/3:00 PM Naija time. Visit www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic to listen and join the chat room with other listeners. Or you could just listen and/or call in via telephone: 1-646-929-1905.

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If you're my friend on Facebook, click HERE to read people's comments/responses about what men want [from women]. Interesting stuff.

Email: radio@verastic.com

A Priest Has Been Reading My Blog!

That said, I know that he will also read this post. But at this point, it cannot possibly get worse.

On Saturday, Mom gave me the phone. She said Father John Doe (not his real name, obviously) was on the phone and wanted to talk to me. He heard my radio show. That automatically made me very uncomfortable. So I spoke to him. He commended me on a job well done, asked me how often I do the show, etc. I was very uncomfortable. I really don't like discussing my blog, articles, and/or radio show with grown folks.

But it got worse. Oh, yes it did. Imagine my discomfort when he talked about the oral sex bit. Whew!! He said I was laughing about it and refusing to take any side [refusing to say if I'm for or against oral sex]. Why on earth did he find that post? Why didn't he find the post about when I rededicated my life to Christ? Or my Thanksgiving post? What about the one where I quoted the bible and said that faith without action is dead? And where I said it's so ironic how God takes care of me all the time. What about when I called God a romantic?

Why, why, WHY did it have to be the one about oral sex?!?!

On that note, I also need to tell Mom to stop helping me spread the gospel of my radio show. Mom knows I do a radio show every Saturday morning. What she doesn't know is how she can listen to it, where she can listen to it, and what the heck it is that I talk about. I intend to keep it that way. Imagine my mother listening to me talking about size. Nooooooo!!! This is one familiarity I don't want to have with my mother. We have already watched glorified porn together. That's good enough.

She told her sister, my favorite aunt - who happens to be a Deeper Life Church-going born again Christian - about my radio show. My aunt bombarded me with questions. I tried my darndest to dodge them like arrows. What is the show about? How do you do it? What do you talk about? Do people hear you? So people call in? So do people ask for your opinion? Who do you do it with? What radio station is it on? It's online? What website is it on? How does it get online? So you have a private conversation with someone and make it public?

Oh, darn!! I don't need this right now.

Well, I told her the website is Blog Radio. She doesn't need to know the rest of the link. I told her we talk about relationships. She doesn't need to know about that episode that addressed the size of certain body parts. I told her a few people call in from Maryland. She doesn't need to know that people call from America and other continents for that matter.

Well, there. That wasn't too hard now, was it?

***Little prayer: May the Holy Ghost Fire destroy every temptation my aunt has to google me. Amen.***

In case you have not heard, the Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio intends to be hot this Saturday! Oh, yes, it will be. Our topic of discussion: What do men want? Seriously, what the heck do they want?! And co-hosting with me is none other than Ekene Agabu. He's a writer and a speaker with a distinct focus on sex and relationships. Oh wee!! Yum, yum!! Click on his name to visit his website. And for the ladies that are wondering, no, I do not know if he's single. Fear not. I'll find out - all for you. You see the hoops I jump for you? Don't say Vera has never done anything for you. Click on the show title to go to its page and set up a reminder. You don't wanna miss this!

Talk To Me

I have never been female, 30, accomplished... and single ... all at once. I feel a deep obligation to stress at this point that I am currently female, have always been female, and will always be female. That said, there is an epidemic out there. Women of all backgrounds, races, nationalities, and tribes are suffering the case of Manlessomnia. As one who has suffered this illness before, I can say it is so not funny!

Looking in from the outside, it is easy to say that women who are accomplished are the problem, but one never really knows. Each situation, I believe, is as unique as the woman in it. I do not know for sure what the problem is, but I'll sure love to find out!

My Mom, God bless her heart, has a thesis - which I should say I completely disagree with! A married female medical doctor (in her middle/late 30s) asked Mom if she knows any single, Nigerian men. Apparently, the doc's friends (who are also all in their 30s) are all very accomplished and also very, very single. We're talking Manlessomnia X3. Okay, I digress...

Mom came home all worried and heavy-laden. When I asked her what the problem was, she said, "Young Nigerian women are wasting away. No husbands to marry them," I should mention she looked a little too sad for these women's predicaments, considering that she does not even know them [she only knows their doctor friend]. Anyway, mom's well-thought-out thesis? Young Nigerian women are single because ALL the young Nigerian men are now gay.

I don't know about you, but this is a hard pill for me to swallow. I know there are gay Nigerian men out there (contrary to what we would like to believe), but I doubt if their gayness is correlated to these women's Manlessomnia. But what do I know? I'm just a girl who sits in front of her laptop and makes up words like Manlessomnia.

There is a reason I bring this up right now. I have scheduled this as a show on Verastically Speakin Talk Radio. If all goes well, we'll be discussing this on Saturday, August 22nd 2009 (10:00 AM U.S. EST/3:00 PM Nigerian time). BUT! Here comes the aha moment. I need co-hosts for this. The show will run only if I get co-hosts. Yes, co-hostS. As in more than one. Three, to be specific.

Here's what I need:

2 female co-hosts (You have to meet the criteria, please: female, accomplished, @ least 30, and single)

1 male co-host (You also have a criteria to meet: If you have mingled with a woman of the above description, you're good enough for me. It doesn't matter if you dated successfully or not. Whatever the story is, bring it on!)

So if you're interested, please e-mail me: radio@verastic.com I'll take the co-hosts on a first-come, first-serve basis (that's if anyone comes, of course. LOL).

P.S. Your nationality/race/tribe does not matter at all. This is not a Nigerian problem; it's a female problem. And I need serious, open-minded, and talkative people. It's a talk show, so we need to talk.

Thank you, darlings!

*Manlessomnia:
an acute
a chronic case of manlessness that causes many, many, many sleepless nights.