Mr. Shoes And I Are Getting Married --- Today

And this time, it's not an April Fool's trick - like that other time.  I'm sorry you had to find out this way.  And I'm sorry I kept it away from you, but if it makes you feel any better, I also kept it away from Mr. Shoes.  You see, this isn't exactly how I planned to get married, but as they say, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going.

I'll make this as short and as simple as possible: from Friday, February 5th to Sunday, February 7th, we experienced suffered a snow storm.  It took me five hours to shovel the sidewalk and dig Fotunatus [my car] out of 26 inches of snow.  School was out for over a week.  Less than a week later, we received another 12 inches of snow.  More shoveling and digging ensued.  By the end, I was sure I would need a chiropractor to fix my back, shoulders, waist, and arms.Since then, it has snowed about three or four more times, albeit very lightly.  This week and next week, we're expecting snow; I don't know the amount.  

So, where does Mr. Shoes come in, you ask?  Well, you see, while we were shoveling, my male neighbors shoveled and shoveled and shoveled --- while their wives stood by the door and directed them, "Honey, you didn't get that little part there," and occasionally, their wives brought them soup, sandwiches, and warm beverages.

I want to be a wife, darn it!  Shoveling isn't fun.  I'd rather be giving directions and offering warm beverages.  So, yes, Mr. Shoes and I will be getting married today.  I have to make sure that I marry him before the next snow storm.  Wouldn't want him thinking that I married him just because of the snow storm.  I mean, what kind of wife would that make me?

Mr. Shoes Is Having An Affair...

...with Rosie!

The thing is, I don't think she knows about it.

It all started on August 22nd of this year when Rosie co-hosted with me for the Female, Accomplished, Over 30, and Single show.  That was Rosie's debut on the Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio.  Mr. Shoes listened to that show as usual, and he loved it.  He later told me that Rosie was his favorite co-host because he liked her voice.

A few weeks ago, we [Mr. Shoes and I] were planning the upcoming shows, and when I mentioned that I wanted to have Rosie co-host yesterday's show [Naija, Here I Come], Mr. Shoes's face brightened up, and we had this conversation:

Him: Rosie is co-hosting?

Me: Yeap.

Him: Does she know I like her voice?

Me: (laughing) Yes, she knows actually.  I told her.

Him: Does she like mine too?

If looks could make pigs fly, the look I gave Mr. Shoes would have certainly caused a scene in a few barnyards that day.

Last week, Mr. Shoes and I were once again planning the shows for the first quarter of 2010 when he recommended Rosie for one of the shows that we need a married person for.

Me: Oh, Rosie won't be able to do it.  She's not married.  We need a married person, remember?

Him: Rosie is not married? *eyebrows arched very high in his forehead*

Me: No.

Him: She's single??? *verbal enthusiasm*

Me: Yeah.

Him: Oh, wow.

(He must have forgotten that the first show she co-hosted was about being single.  Well, so much for the love, Mr. Shoes!  No, I am not jealous.  *rolling eyes at 300 miles per hour*)

I have thought about these occurrences, and I have decided that there is only one way for me to fix it: I'm going after Turtle (Rosie's man).

Dear Rosie, please release his digits RIGHT NOW!!!

P.S. Shows for 2010 are currently being planned and scheduled, and I'm interested in having new voices.  radio@verastic.com

P.P.S. I'm still waiting for those digits, Rosie.  Turtle and I have to talk!

My Honeymoon And I

So the post about my 17-day fun ignited a question: Did Mr. Shoes and I get married and go on our honeymoon?

Uhm... no!!!!

Frankly, I am hurt, shocked, and disappointed that you would even think that. What kind of honeymoon lasts for 17 days? Not mine!! I have decided that my honeymoon will last for one year and will include 12 to 15 countries. That's my plan for now. I just might increase it to 18 months. That way, by the time hubby and I are coming back from the honeymoon, we'll also have Junior (or Juniors) in tote. How convenient! The idea of not knowing where, when, or how Junior (or Juniors) will be conceived totally excites me. The idea of not knowing where Junior (or Juniors) will be given birth to is also very exciting. I keep saying Juniors because I intend on having a set of confusingly identical twin boys, remember?

A 17-day honeymoon just wouldn't be enough to accomplish all that I plan on accomplishing - although I currently do not know what it is that I plan on accomplishing. Not to worry, I have time to come up with a list. **Hint, hint** All vacation resorts are welcome to send me free one week trial packages. Did anyone say Sandals?

A honeymoon is a vacation, and while on a vacation, you are not supposed to be working. Instead, you are supposed to be relaxing. And while you are on a honeymoon, you and your spouse are supposed to what --- have all the uninterrupted sex you can have before facing reality where bills, mortgage, work, the postman, and friends like Funmie can "break" your "flow" ... I think I just totally broke my own flow with the image of the uninterrupted sex + Funmie. Tsk. Tsk. Something about that line just didn't flow too well with me. I'll start over in the next paragraph.

So considering that while you are on a honeymoon, you are your spouse are supposed to have all the uninterrupted sex you can afford before life truly begins .... nah .... this line still does not work. I think it's because I just keep writing about uninterrupted sex for no reason. What I should really be writing is >>> Considering that I want my honeymoon to last for twelve to eighteen months, I have the following questions [Aha! This line works a lot better. Where did all that sex talk come from?]:

1. While we're honeymooning, will I update Verastically Livin? Or will it lay fallow for 12 to 18 months?
2. What will happen to Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio?
3. Who will pay our bills at home?
4. Will we even have a home to return to after the honeymoon?
5. While on the honeymoon, will I be able to get my boiled yam + egg stew fix?
6. Will I be able to get my cheerios fix?
7. What about lactose-free milk? I wouldn't want to fart hubby to oblivion. Oh, wait --- I would want to actually fart him to oblivion. Issue number 7 is henceforth a non issue.
8. How many new pairs of shoes will I be able to acquire while on the honeymoon?
9. Will I even have the money to acquire new pairs of shoes?
10. At what point will the 12 - 18 month honeymoon stop feeling like a honeymoon and start feeling more like real life? After the first two weeks?

I guess I'll answer these questions when the time comes. For now, I'll like to clarify that I am not engaged to Mr. Shoes or any other man - although I used to fantasize about being engaged to Chidi Boyle, a fictional character from my yet-to-be-written story. This is probably not a bad time to write about him. Until then, I'm currently accepting CASH donations for my honeymoon. Thank you.

Party Over Here.... Party Over There...

That's what the past 17 days of my life has felt like: party, party, party! Or let me rephrase it, "Fun, fun, fun!!!" Yes, Sir! I have actually been having fun. I, Vera Ezimora whose only known method of fun used to be weddings, baby showers, bridal showers, movies, and bowling. Yes, I have now evolved to a new level of fun - the type of fun where I hop on a plane and fly to a place where they paint their homes pink and yellow. Happy, happy place, it seems. Nothing compared to the red brick buildings in Maryland. But I digress.

Let me tell you what I was able to accomplish in the past 17 days - some in Maryland, and some in other places:

• I went jet skiing for the first time in my life.
• I attended a Nigerian Independence party that was really nice. I got to dance with the DJ whom I found rather sexy. I could not take my eyes off him, so I had to dance with him. I'm all better now.
• Managed to catch a cold - somehow. I'm still coughing. Mr. Shoes forced me to drink all sorts of tea - including something that smelled like Theraflu - even though it was called tea.
• That's his hand there, so he can't say he didn't do it, and that's the theraflu-smelling tea
• Went to a Lebanese restaurant and had a shawarma pita sandwich for the first time
• 
  
• Was taken on a surprise trip [by Mr. Shoes] to a private resort. I'm still shivering. I've never been anywhere that nice before, and on that note, Mr. Shoes needs to be warned to stop calling me Mgbeke before I arrange a street beating for him. Funmi suggested that I steal the curtains from the room and bring them back to Baltimore. I did consider it, but they were heavy. They would have made my luggage go past fifty pounds.
• I found out that even with high heels and a huge scarf, Mr. Shoes is still taller than me.
• I learnt how to use Goal Seek on Microsoft Excel. Let me rephrase that: I had an assignment that prompted me to use Goal Seek. Mr. Shoes taught me how to do it. And no, I don't know how to do it, so don't bother asking, but yes, I turned in my assignment.J
• I attended an Island Carnival [for the first time in my life] where I saw these really long dreads. Wonder how long it took him to grow them.

• Ms. Flow showed up at some point. It's never complete unless it gets bloody. You can say I had a bloody fun time. Hehe.
• I went swimming. Mr. Shoes might beg to differ. He'll probably say, "She went standing in the pool..." Well, whatever. I got into the pool. I got wet. That's it. I went swimming. End of the story.
• While Mr. Shoes and I walked down the hallway, he was being bad - whatever that means - so I spanked his behind. Imagine our shock when we heard a lady's voice behind us, "Go 'head, gurl... spank it!!!" Well, at that point, I had no choice but to spank it.
• I got my butt and my ego severely bruised by Mr. Shoes in several games of WHOT. He straight up kicked my behind. In my defense, I have not played the game in years. These losses should not be held against me.
• I guzzled more La Creme yogurts than I care to remember. That yogurt is from heaven. Angel Gabriel's wife must have whipped it up herself.
• I was told by Mr. Shoes that the relationship between me and my breasts would have to change. He claims I was touching them while we were at the post office. Where's the proof??
• I ate the best ora soup, cooked by Princess U. Speaking of Princess U, she still owes me a pot of peppersoup. I have not forgotten.
• I watched and listened to friends do some deafening karaoke. Unfortunately, no Advil liquigels or earplugs were close by.J
• I watched the movie, Couple's Retreat with Mr. Shoes. After that, I realized that we might need to attend a retreat of our own to learn how to keep up with each other. I need to be on roller skates to be able to keep up with his walking. Either that, or we continue the way we've been doing it: I hang on to his right arm and run along with him while he walks.
• Poster courtesy of www.allmovieposter.com

• I made new friends.
• I ran into Mr. Kisser and pretended not to know who the heck he was.
• I finally got to knead some dough.

Fun enough for you? Considering the amount of fun I'm accustomed to having - which is really not a lot - I'd say I have had enough new fun to last me the entire year and then some, but I won't mind having more of this type of fun, of course --- especially the spanking butt part of it. Good stuff.

Verastically Speakin': Hope everyone is looking forward to the show on Saturday - The Nigerians Did It? We'll be talking about the Sony PS3 ad and the District 9 movie. I'm going to see the movie later today. I have a fantabulous co-host!! Can't wait to talk with him on Saturday. Yippee! If you have questions/comments for the show, now is the time to send them in radio@verastic.com. See you at 10am U.S. EST (3pm GMT).

P.S. I know it's late, but please do the poll. It's on the top of the right sidebar. Thank you!!

I Love You, Tomorrow

Considering what will be happening tomorrow, I should not even be saying that I love tomorrow. Considering what will be happening tomorrow, I should be dreading it and wishing it will never, ever make it here, but if tomorrow doesn't come, neither will next tomorrow, and all the other days that I hope for.

I liken it to cooking a pot of goat peppersoup from scratch. By scratch, I mean, the goat is still alive. So first, you have to kill the goat, roast it to burn off its fur, cut its meat into pieces, etc, you get the point .... before you actually start cooking. It may be a lot of work, but when you get to the end, the result is pure bliss, no? Of course, by then, you might be too tired too eat, but let's not factor that into this analogy, or it will ruin it for me. Oh, and I realize that the idea of killing and roasting a goat might not be very appealing to vegetarians and the animal whatever-they-call-themselves, but please, I'm Nigerian. We kill and eat goat meat. Deal with it.

My point? I'm not very happy about what will be happening tomorrow. But I know that tomorrow would have to happen in order for all the other plans to also come to pass - all by God's Grace. So I welcome tomorrow with open arms - not because of what she will bring me, but because of what the days after her will bring. Is there anyone else who is not looking forward to tomorrow? Just me then? Okay.

Speaking of tomorrow, Verastically Speakin' will not be airing live this Saturday. I'll be back on the 24th of October 2009 with The Nigerians Did It. We'll be talking about the Sony PS3 commercial (which I have embedded below) and the District 9 movie - which I unfortunately cannot embed, especially if I want to keep Verastically Livin running. You know how it is.

For The Love Of Mr. Shoes

I have done a lot of crazy things for love. Okay, fine, maybe not a lot, and come to think of it... what love? But this time, I am about to do something crazy for love. It really is crazy, and it really is love. A while back --- a really long while back --- I heard on the radio that if you have a partner [boyfriend, girlfriend, fiance, fiancee, husband, wife, whatever else there is out there these days] and he/she has never farted in front of you, it means that he/she has a lot to hide from you and cannot be trusted.

I am not one who wants to walk around farting. There is no honor in that! L In front of Funmie, Busola, etc, sure - in fact, it would be my pleasure J - but just anyone --- especially a man? Hmm. If memory serves me right, there are only two men I have deliberately farted in front of: my cousin (who is like a brother to me) and my father (and that was when I was a baby and could not countrol myself anyway). Fine, I admit I have farted in front of a few male babies. Sue me.

The radio personality also said that your partner should be able to do number two (doodoo/poop) in front of you. See, I have a big problem with this. I do not even like number-twoing in other people's homes - males or females. I prefer doing it in the comfort of my home where I can scream, shout, and sing while I'm doing it. Besides, ever since Funmi's doodoo clogged the toilet and someone else had to come fix it, I've been a bit on the paranoid side. Every slice of shit deserves a flush, peeps. Remember that the next time you decide to offload your excess luggage.

But for the love of Mr. Shoes, I will break my rules. Oh, yes, I will. I will go above and beyond to doodoo and fart in front of him - for him, of course. As you all may know or not know, I am extremely lactose intolerant. That said, I will consume as many dairy products as I can before I pay him a visit. And I'll mix it up with a very peppery bowl of peppersoup. That should take care of both natural occurences. (By the way, Natural Occurance is Mr. Shoes' word for the natural occurence of farting & doodoing).

After that, I will HAMMER. By the time I'm through with him, he will be sure that he knows me. Sure, he may be a little bloated, but the end will justify the means, no? Oh, the things I do for love!!! Let no one ever say I never showed Mr. Shoes any love.

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.

That Reminds Me...

In April, I blogged about my fake engagement to Mr. Shoes, and the comments were so numerous that they almost broke down my blog. But what struck me was that some people said they didn't fall for the lie because the ring just wasn't big enough for me. Seriously...???

I bring this up now because this past Saturday (July 18th) was hawt on the Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio as we battled over the price and size of an engagement ring. In spite of having 90 minutes dedicated to the show, we still ran out of time. I apologize to Leggy, Chayoma, and Bumight for not having read their mails. And to think that I even printed them out. :-(

The call volume was so high that by the time the show was over, I still had so many callers on cue whose calls I could not take. For that, I am also sincerely sorry. The people in the chat room seemed to also be chatting so psychedelically that the darn chat room had to have a psychedelic break down and log us all out. For that, I am also sorry. If you haven't listened to the show, you can listen to it from my blog by clicking on it. The player is on the right sidebar.

So back to the engagement ring: ehm... exactly how big do you think I want this ring? I think I may have given people the impression that I want the kind of rock that would reflect sunlight into Planet Mars. The size of the rock on the ring below isn't bad, but it's fake. Alright fine, maybe it's a little bit on the small side, but it isn't entirely bad.

To prove how totally not-into-the-size-and-cost-of-a-ring I am, I went to Tacori dot com, a website I have always loved and admired. Without first looking at the prices, I picked rings based on their style alone (thin, platinum band, not a queer-shaped diamond, etc) - not knowing the cost. I will prove to these people that I am sooooo not too crazy about the cost. I just want it to be my style!

Price of first ring: $6, 300 (Hmm....)

Price of second ring: $6, 600 (Double hmm...)

Price of third ring: $3, 530 (Aha!! Didn't I tell them I'm understanding...?)

Price of fourth ring: $5, 500 (I was doing good in the third ring; what happened?)

Price of fifth ring: $10, 740 (I give up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Well, you know what? Screw it!! What does Tacori know about me? I don't even like their rings anyway!!! ***Nose growing longer, swallowing big gulp of spit***

I had already started linking the rings to their pictures on the web for you to see how nice and simple they look, but I thought better of it. It won't be difficult for this post to be misconstrued. I really don't think a man should spend three months of his salary on a ring because that would be a lotttt of money (unless he has nothing else to do with the money). But I do solemnly believe that a man should know his woman's style and buy the best [of her style] that he can afford. Shikena. If you're going to do it, you might as well do it well.

That said, I'm very grateful to everyone who listened, called in (especially the international callers), e-mailed, and chatted away in the chat room. Thank you to those who tweeted and Facebooked too. If I had the money, I'd go Oprah on you all, and buy each of you a car. But for now, I do hope that my sincere gratitude suffices.

Next week Saturday, July 25th 2009 10:00 AM US EST/3:00 PM Naija time, we'll talking about the importance - or lack of importance - of your partner's weight, height, and size of certain body parts. There's a poll on the right sidebar. Help your sister out. And tune in on that day. Go HERE to set a reminder for the show.

Chei. But that my engagement to Mr. Shoes was hawt oo. I almost forgot it didn't happen sef. Hehehe.

Dear Mr. Shoes

Happy birthday.

This is the first post of its kind on my blog, so I'm not even quite sure where or how to start. But I have to start somehow and somewhere, right? Well, first and foremost, I am grateful to God for letting you see this day. Not everyone has lived to be XX. But you, my dear, by the favor and grace of God, you are alive and well today.

As you celebrate this day, I pray that you are blessed and favored with everything you have ever wanted. May you be blessed like Isaac. He sowed in the time famine and reaped a hundred folds. May you be blessed like Jacob. He held unto the Lord and the Lord blessed him. May you be blessed like Joseph. In spite of being betrayed and sold into slavery by his brothers, he rose above them - literally.

Permit me to switch from talking to you to talking about you...

I am very grateful to God for granting me the opportunity to know Mr. Shoes (although it's his pleasure, of course). What started as a uhm.... has blossomed into a uhm... I don't even know what words to use here. Per the blessings above, did anyone notice that all the blessings were culled from people in the book of Genesis? That's because I just started reading my bible from the beginning again, and I am still on Genesis. To be more precise, I am still reading about Joseph in fact. Did anyone else cry when Portiphar put him in jail for a crime he did not commit? But I digress...

I want to list character traits about Mr. Shoes, but I feel like I'll be talking writing too much. I want to put up a picture of him, but.... who am I kidding? I don't wanna put up a picture of him. What I want to do is get my butt into bed. No, no... Mr. Shoes isn't on the bed. But before I go to bed, here are a few more wishes for Mr. Shoes.

• I wish for him to be prosperous in everything he does. I wish for him to be very rich, so he can buy me all the suya I want.
• I wish for Mr. Shoes to have long life and prosperity.
• I wish for Mr. Shoes to never be far away from me.
• Last but not least, I wish for Mr. Shoes to be extremely addicted to me, the kind of addiction that can never and will never have a cure. Oh, the possibilities!!!

Mr. Shoes... I wish you the happiest birthday ever. I understand that this birthday is not exactly what you were hoping for, but you're alive and well, and that should count for a lot. So have a very happy birthday!

Randomisity

This is one totally random post. I have a bunch of little issues to discuss, and I don't feel like making each of them into individual posts.

Random Issue #1: Mr. Shoes. I might get in trouble for refering to him as a random issue. Hehe. But lemme tell you what he did - more like said. Honestly, I don't know what Mr. Shoes would do without me; thank God for me oh... because I'm teaching him things. Hehe. Can you believe that Mr. Shoes was under the impression that breast milk only comes out at certain times of the day? He was hoping it only comes out during the day, so that at night... well... :-). This breast milk conversation was inspired by my previous post.

Random Issue #2: What the heck is Badoo --- and why do people (real or virtual) keep leaving me messages on it? I keep receiving e-mails that say someone left me a message on Badoo. What the heck is that? Is that another social network? I guess I could take the time to google it, but I have more important things to think of right now.

Random Issue #3: My template --- I'm changing it again. Yeap. So I thought I liked it, but it turns out I don't. I'm a white-background chic. This whatever-color-we'll-this color is not working for me at all. I have tried to like it, but I don't see myself liking it too much. Doesn't help that Mr. Shoes doesn't particularly care for it either. I can do a black background, but that's as far as I'm willing to go, and I'd rather not do the black background because it's not too easy on the eyes. I'll work on the template this weekend.

Random Issue #4: Oh, Range Rover Sport... where art thou? People, I don't know what to do about my obsession with the Range Rover Sport. I spot the vehicle from a mile away. I stare at it every time I see it. I go as close as I can to it. Sometimes, I touch someone's parked Range Rover Sport. Is there a way for me to get a FREE Range Rover Sport?? If you're going to suggest that I buy a Range Rover Sport, then scratch that idea. As I type this right now, I have about $100 to my name - probably not enough to change the oil. I kid you not! All you wealthy people out there, save me from my misery and give me a RANGE ROVER SPORT!!! Oprah, Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, the Walton family, Michael Bloomberg, and Donald Trump... where are you? I need a Range Rover Sport now now now!!!!!!!!!!!!

Random Issue #5: Bloggers! Did I tell you that I hooked up with three bloggers? Yes, ke. I hooked up with Nefertiti, Bumight, and Aloted. Jealous? Ah, yes of course, you are. We took a picture. I'll be happy to share it with you. But first, you must read 'Random Issue #4" and give me my heart's desire. *wink, wink* Oh, I also met YankeeNaijaBabe whose blog I just realized is private. When did this happen? Has it always been private?

Random Issue #6: Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio will be airing in about 9.5 hours - 10:00 AM U.S. Eastern time (3:00 PM Naija time). We'll be talking about dating exes. Beautiful Nana will be co-hosting with me. Make sure you tune in/call in! There's still time for last minute e-mails on today's show. Here's the direct link to today's show online. E-mail radio@verastic.com if you have any contributions and/or questions (even if it's not for today's show). Please check out the schedule for the show on the right sidebar and participate. Help a sister out! Thank you, darlings!

For The Shoes

On Saturday, the 20th of June 2009, Mr. Shoes and his family suffered a loss. They lost a wife and a mother. Mr. Shoes lost his mother. I tried several times before today to put this post up since the unfortunate incident, but each time I tried, my words failed me. I still feel like they're failing me right now, but I have to do this. It's taking too long already.

Over and over, I wondered, what do I say to Mr. Shoes? What does one say to a man who has lost the first woman he ever loved? 'Sorry?' 'I'm sorry?' I don't know what one says. I don't know what one should say. I don't know what I should have said, or what I should say now. If tears could wake the dead, she'd be back here right now.

It's sad how people's terms change when they pass on. I remember when my Uncle George passed six years ago. Suddenly, he stopped being 'George' and became 'the body' and 'the cargo.' Six years after his passing, I am still not over it. One can never really get over the loss of someone dear. I've had six years to mourn over it, and I'm still not done. The Shoes' family has had only two weeks.

Death is never convenient. Mommy Shoes' death was inconvenient. If she had left us three decades from now, her death will still be inconvenient, but maybe, just maybe we'd feel better if it were three decades later. She'd be a little older. A little wiser. A lot more experienced - with more grey hairs to tell tales of life lived, things seen, and things done. Maybe then I'd know what to say. Maybe then, my words will not fail me.

I am aware that God is the beginning and the end. The Alpha and Omega. I know that He is an all-knowing God, a God that never makes mistakes. But still I dare to wonder...why now and why her? Why her and why now? This is a question I know I will not get an answer to until I meet Him in Glory (when I am 114 years old).

To the Shoes family, I wish God's comfort in this trying time. I wish them the strength to bear this burden. I wish them peaceful sleep at night. And I pray that Mommy Shoes' memory brings comfort and peace to those she left behind.

To Mr. Shoes, once again my words fail me. I don't know what to say or how to say it. But whatever you need me to do, I will do. And whatever you need me to be, I will be.

May the sweet, loving, gentle soul of Mommy Shoes rest in perfect peace, Amen.

Yay To The Daddies!

It's Father's Day today.

I'm not quite sure what to say about my Daddy. I feel like I have said most things. The rest, I just don't know how to say. I love the man to bits. I don't think he can ever do me wrong. Mom believes I always take my Dad's side. I beg to defer. But if it's true, then I am not surprised.

Dad has made so many mistakes - most of which he will never admit. But I know. And I think he knows that I know. In spite of all his mistakes, he's still my boo. He says and does the darndest things. From the outside looking in, one would conclude his wife is the luckiest woman on earth. Wonder what Mom has to say about that. Knowing my Mom, her sentence will start something like, "Luckiest?? Hmm. Let me tell you what that man did to me in 1979...." 1979 is just a random year I picked, but if you probe Mom enough, I'm sure she'll remember something he did.

I have big dreams for my Father. I'd love to help him build another clinic in a different State. I think he's tired of Plateau State. Too many Christian/Muslim wars. Used to be a peaceful State - "The State of peace and tourism..." Wonder if they still have the same punchline. I dream of having enough money to fly him somewhere for a vacation. Since he returned from Russia decades ago, the man has not left the country again. I can't wait to have him walk me down the aisle (and no, I am not yet engaged); I bet he'll say something silly that'll have me in stitches while I'm walking.

Been a while since we played WHOT card game. He always puts some money down for whoever wins. I'm never be too old to spend his money. I really miss rubbing his bald head. It's so bald and smooth that it looks like hair never even grew there. I miss rubbing his big belly. Mom calls is "afo beer" (beer gut). Of course, he disagrees.

So on this Father's Day, I wish Dad a day of unspeakable blessings and favors from God. May his health be completely restored. May he be blessed with long life and prosperity. May he be blessed with wisdom and understanding. May he remain my funny man. I wish all the fathers and fathers-to-be a very happy Father's day. Most especially, I wish Mr. Shoe's Dad & Grandad a very happy Father's day. To them, I say, "chop knuckle for bringing up such a wonderful son/grandson." In short, I throway serious yansh for them. Dem no fall my hand @ allll.

Oh. Speaking of Mr. Shoes, I wish him a very, very happy Father's day (no, he's not yet a father, and no, I am not pregnant. Thank you very much). I wish him long life and prosperity. I pray he is blessed with children that will love, honor, and adore him. I pray he'll be a godly father - the kind God wants all his children to be. I pray he meets success concerning everything and everyone in his life. I pray he is blessed and favored in all areas of his life. Amen.

For all of you who think you are not yet fathers, don't be too sure. You'll be surprised what a DNA test will reveal. Chop clean mouth no dey reign again ooo.

Happy fathering.

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Updates on Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio

* June 23rd 2009 6PM (U.S. Eastern), 11PM (Naija time) - Premiere Date - Topic: Whose Bill Is It Anyway? E-mail radio@verastic.com or text 443-934-9039 with your views/date stories.

* July 2nd 2009 10AM (U.S. Eastern), 3PM (Naija time) - 2nd episode - Topic: Tact (Or Lack Of It). E-mail radio@verastic.com or text 443-934-9039 with your views/tact stories. This topic is about how we don't have a lot of tact in the things we say. I'm sure most of us have experienced our tactlessness.

Please visit the radio site to set up reminders for the shows. Call/text/e-mail if you have any questions.

Be blessed!

P.S. I updated my picture site with pictures of Chidi (my boyfriend, Busola's son). Yeah, it only took me 6 months. Oops.

P.P.S. Blogger don mess up! My blog roll has disappeared. What the frack?? Great. Just what I need right now... :@ (angry face)

At Age 27?????????????????????

I read something the other day. Apparently a woman's fertility begins to significantly decline at age 27. 27?!?!?!?!?!?! As if it isn't bad enough that we are born with all the eggs we will ever, ever have in our lives (not to mention that we lose half of those eggs at birth)?? Now, I have to go and find out that our fertility potential begins to significantly decline at age 27. **insert very, very, VERY angry face**

I am yet to get over my anger of not getting married at age 22. Ah, that was my plan when I was about 12 or 13 in Naija. I was sure that by the age of 22, I would be married. Of course, by the time I was 22, marriage was the last thing on my mind for several reasons:

1. I was 22. I still had my life ahead of me biko.

2. I was still in school = broke

3. There was no man worth marrying in my life.

4. I knew nothing about marriage. In retrospect, I thought I did. I thought I was mature enough then, but I have learnt so much between then and now. Of course, I realize I will learn even more once I do become married.

5. Did I mention there was NO MAN as in NO MAN worth marrying in my life?

So anyway, now that I think of it, I guess I'm not so mad that I didn't get married at age 22. If I had gotten married, I mighta turned out to be an immature, unsupportive wife - no kidding - and not to mention, a liability and a burden to my husband. Tufia kwa. That is not my portion in Jesus' name. Whatever the case might be, I am mad that at age 27, there is a significant decline in a woman's fertility. But no stress. I've got it alllllllllll figured out.

Where is that shoe owner? We have to make babies!

These Shoes Fit...

... And that is all I'm willing to say about it - for now.

Well, except a few casts & credits

Date Pictures were taken: March 5th 2009

Location: Classified above top secret

Owner of feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of legs attached to feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of pants clothing legs attached to feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of shoes comforting feet belonging to legs clothed in pants owned by Vera Ezimora: Hehehehehehehehehehehehe. I laugh in Nnewi South.

He Proposed...

And I said, "Yes!" Now, calm down. Lemme tell you the full story. "I'll make this post short & sweet. And by the time I'm done, you'll feel one or more of these emotions: happy, jealous, confused, curious, doubtful, angry.... did I mention angry already? Hehehe."

Remember My Valentine??? Yes, the very same one who surprised me on Valentine's Day. Let's just say he's full of surprises.  And I'm really, really sorry for not telling you about the full story of our relationship.  I just didn't want to put everything out there.  Sometimes, one has to keep somethings personal.  In my next post, I'll be sure to give you details.  Everything you want to know, I will tell you.  But for now, rejoice with me on this please...!!  :)

Excuse my unmanicured nails; I didn't know I would be getting a marriage proposal.  My friends should have at least given me a heads-up.  Funmi, Busola, and Uju, I won't forgive you for this!

The Proposal: I came home yesterday to an empty house - no surprises there. I did the usual thing. Dropped my bag on the table, took my shoes off, and headed for the bathroom to empty my bladder. While in there, I kept singing this funny song, "I'm married to Jesus/Satan leave me alone..." Ever heard??

Anyway, I got out of the bathroom and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. I had just put some rice into the microwave when a classmate called me, so I picked up the phone. The earring I was wearing (also known as my everyday earring) tends to scratch the screen of my phone, so I took the earring off and proceeded to my bedroom to drop it on my dresser. I opened the door and met the shock of my life.

There he was - all six feet plus of him, on one bended knee, candles lit everywhere, and rose petals on the floor. I didn't know what to say. It felt like I stood there forever. I didn't even know when I started crying. I knew the significance of a man on one bended knee, but I didn't know why he was on one bended knee.  In my shock, I went to him and knelt down beside him, crying. I forgot I wasn't supposed to be kneeling down. He said a bunch of things. I don't remember now, but it didn't matter. I let him slip that beautiful ring on my finger. I haven't been able to stop looking at it and taking pictures of my finger. It was only after the kiss that I realized other people were in the room: my mother, my father, Funmi, Busola, Uju, Ireti, and a camcorder! I was crying. He was crying. Mom was crying. My friends were crying. Ireti was laughing. I think I saw a lone tear on dad's face, but he quickly wiped it off. I don't know what I did to deserve such a wonderful, wonderful man.

p.s. Now, if you believed the story you just read, please help me slap yourself twice: the first slap is for being so gullible. The second slap is for forgetting it's April Fool's Day.

p.p.s. The hand and the ring in the picture both belong to me. I keep the ring (and a wedding band) in my wallet because sometimes, I feel like being married. More like, sometimes I don't feel like being single. Actually, sometimes, I just don't feel like being flirted with. There, I said it.

p.p.p.s. You probably didn't notice, but in the first paragraph of this post, the words in quotations are in quotations and italicized for a reason: I stole the entire line from the post about.  My Valentine. Tehehe. The only difference is that I replaced 'jealous' with 'angry' (the one in bold).  So uhm, are you angry now?? Tehehehehehehehe.

p.p.p.p.s. My earring really does have that effect on my phone, and I really do take it off a lot of times.  So you see.... this post isn't a lie.  Let's just say I embelished the truth a wee little bit.

p.p.p.p.p.s. If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one who is gullible.  Even I, the one who composed this truthful fable, am starting to believe it.  Whew!!

...And ehm, my ring isn't bad for a fake one, ey?  Some real ones aren't even this nice!  Of course, you know how I feel about engagement rings, don't ya?

This Valentine Day Sha..!!

***Vera smiling from ear to ear***

Where do I start from??? Hmmmm. I'll make this short and sweet. And by the time I'm done, you'll feel one or more of these emotions: happy, jealous, confused, curious, doubtful, angry.... did I mention jealous already? Hehehe.

So there I was on Saturday, jejely minding my own business @ home. I wore a black and pink blouse and a pair of black jeans. I wore the pink shirt to commemorate Valentine. It was either that or something red, but I didn't have anything I liked in red. Well, my red tops were either dirty, too casual, or too formal. So pink it was.

I decided to make some moi moi. I had been putting it off for over a week. I was home, listening to music, and dancing every now and then. I was gonna watch a Naija flick after cooking. Funmi called and said she was coming over to eat. I told her not to come to my house. I did not want to spend my Valentine with a girl. But did she listen? Nope! The babe showed up here and ate my food. I even washed her dishes when she was done.

We started watching a Naija movie, and that was when it happened. He called. He was downstairs. He surprised me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates, a funny Valentine card, and loadza starbursts. He brought me starburts! Can you believe that??? That was too sweet!!

By the way, he flew in from a different state. AND we had never met before Valentine's day.... AND I did not give him my address.

......So that's all I'm willing to say about Valentine's Day. Hehehehehe. If you need more details, you know the drill: send a bottle of perfume to my P. O. BOX.

P.S. I know this sounds like fiction, but apparently, miracles happen. Ask Funmie. She was there. I'm glad she was. Or else, I would have thought I had started imagining things. Funmie was so excited, she almost locked us both out of the house in our quest to welcome our surprise guest. Funny thing is, that morning, Busola was laughing @ me and asking me if Saint Valentine had sent my Valentine yet. I said, "Not yet." We laughed about it. I didn't actually think I was going to have a Valentine, but voila...!!

So tell me, how are you feeling?? Happy, jealous, confused, curious, angry..... maybe a bit more jealous???? Hehehe. What can I say? I did ask God for unmerited favor. Now, if only He (God) can do me this other favor. Hmmmmmmm.