Robbin' Da Cradle

Ah, my life. So here is what happened to me yesterday.

I was jejely sitting at a table in the public library, my laptop on and running with my online class displayed. I was supposed to be studying, but I was engrossed in my favorite author, Eric Jerome Dickey's book, PLEASURE, a book that had way more sex plots than I cared for.

As with every other good novel I have read, I was totally, unashamedly into the book, oblivious of my surrounding and the pair of eyes that had been watching me. But he interrupted my flow. The conversation that followed between us was fast paced and familiar in an unfamiliar way.

Him: What book are you reading?

Me: *taking my eyes away from the book and lifting my head to see a young guy standing on the other side of my table* Uhm... Pleasure by Eric Jerome Dickey.

Him: So why do you have your laptop on?

Me: I'm supposed to be using it.

Him: Why don't you use the ones here? *referring to the library computers*

Me: Cause I have mine.

Him: But these ones are free.

Me: So is mine.

Him: Are you writing a paper?

Me: No

Him: Is it (the book) for school?

Me: No

Him: Are you in school?

Me: Yeah.

Him: What school?

Me: XXXXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX

Him: What are you taking up there?

Me: Psychology.

Him: Oh, cool. So can you read my mind?

Me: *laugh...this is a question I have heard too many times* Not yet.

Him: Want to know what's on my mind?

Me: *smiling, realizing this dude was flirting with me* Tell me.

Him: I can help you; you can help me. You feel me?

Me: No, not really.

Him: Can I come over and draw it for you?

Me: Sure.

Him: *comes over to my right side. Draws two stick figures, one being me, and the other him. A bent arrow extends from my stick figure to his stick figure and another arrow from his stick figure to mine* Got it?

Me: *shaking my head* No. Tell me in words.

Him: *Pulls a chair and sits by my side, less than an arm's length away* You help me; I help you. We help each other. Cool?

Me: Cool.

Him: I might become crazy tomorrow, and you'll be my Psychologist.

Me: Okay.

Him: I know a lot about cars. Maybe I could fix yours some day.

Me: Cool.

Him: So maybe we could have ice cream, see a movie some time.

Me: *smiling uncontrollably, with much shame* How old are you?

Him: How old are you?

Me: I asked first.

Him: And I asked second.

Me: So answer first.

Him: Save the best for last.

Me: Tell me.

Him: How old do I look?

Me: Don't know.

Him: Guess.

Me: I'm bad at guessing.

Him: Practice.

Me: I did. Failed woefully @ it.

Him: I'm 18.

@ this point, I lowered my head in SHAME.

Him: Hold old are you?

Me: XX

Him: Cool.

Me: No, not cool. I'm XX years older than you.

Him: I know. I can do math.

Me: That's a lot of years.

Him: I know.

Me: You can do math.

Him: Yes. So what's up?

Me: *smiling* I can't do this.

Him: Why not?

Me: I'm older than you.

Him: So?

Me: So...I can't go see a movie with you.

Him: So you can't have a relationship with an 18 year old?

Me: No.

Him: I'm legal. It's not like I'm 17.

Me: I know.

Him: I should have lied and said I was 21

Me: I'd still be XX years older than you.

Him: You wouldn't date a twenty-one year old?

Me: *shaking my head* I wouldn't even date someone my age.

Him: So you're saying you can't learn anything from me?

Me: I didn't say that.

Him: So you can learn something from someone younger?

Me: Yeah, but not in the way you want me to.

Him: Can we be friends?

Me: Sure.

Him: Will you call me?

Me: I'll think about it.

Him: When will you let me know?

Me: When I'm done thinking about it.

Him: *looks at me funny like he could see through me, his look betraying his unbelief in my words* If I walk out of here, I might never see you again.

Me: I come here all the time. *lies*

Him: I don't. So you're gonna call me?

Me: Yes.

Him: How were you gonna call me? You didn't even ask for my number.

Me: I was going to. *lies*

Him: When?

Me: After this conversation *lies*

Him: *laughs* Who are you gonna ask for?

Me: You

Him: You didn't ask for my name.

Me: Was going to.

Him: When?

Me: After getting your number *lies*

Him: *looks @ me in that way that woulda made me tingle...if he was a man* What's your name?

Me: Vera *truth*

Him: Let me put my number in your phone.

I hand him the phone, he puts his number in and saves it under his name, Hakeem

A little girl is lurking close to him, about 11 or 12 years old. I ask: Is she your sister?

Him: *smiles* Yes. She's not my daughter.

Me: I didn't think she was. *truth*

Him: *stands up, stretches his hand out to shake mine* I'll be looking forward to hearing from you, Vera.

Me: *shaking his hand* You will. *LIES*

He was fine, no doubt. The conversation flowed well, almost literary and poetic, but after all was said and done, he was still 18, and I was still XX years older than him, unwilling to become a cougar. All I could think about were the insults I will receive from my big-mouthed friends, Uju & Busola. I could just hear the insults in my head:

1. So Vera, are you taking your man to Mickey D for a happy meal?
2. Is your man at the baby sitter's place?
3. Vera, were you his date to his high school prom?
4. Have you ever changed his diaper?
5. Busola will say, "Look, Hakeem, just because you're dating my friend does not mean you can disrespect me. After all, your mates call me Aunty."
6. What's your favorite Gerber flavor?
7. Vera, have you fed your man his bowl of cerelac?
8. What size does he wear, 2T or 3T? ('T' stands for toddler in children's clothes).

Kai.... my Verastic life!

**** Hakeem is not his real name. And yes, this is a true life story.*******

Priceless!

His Versace sunglasses ------- $200

His 2008 Acura RL ----------$46, 280

His colgate smile -------------$1, 000, 000

The blush on my cheeks when I caught him staring @ me ---- $9.99 (from Revlon)

The look on my face when I realized that he was a she ------- PRICELESS!!!

There are somethings in life that money can't buy. For everything else, there is Mastercard...to buy medicated glasses, so I can better differentiate between men & women.


This is a true life story...unfortunately

I Met Mr. Kisser.....Again!

If you don't know who Mr. Kisser is, please click HERE

Where do I start?? Okay, I'll start from Sunday morning.

My blogville husband, NaijaBloke (yes, we are still married!) came into town. He forgot his charger, so he came to meet me in church on Sunday morning to get my charger (which he was supposed to give me back later, but forgot to... but anyways... lol). I was to meet him later that night at a big party in Capitol Heights.

But first, I had to attend a little graduation reception. Busola's sister graduated from high school, so I went over to pay my respects. I didn't have time to buy her a gift, but I remembered to return her mother's plate - the one I used to take rice home in May. I was trying to find parking when I drove into something. I thought it was nothing until I was ready to leave and realized I had a flat tire. Crap! My front passenger tire was gone.

Busola's dad and uncle helped me fix my spare tire. I didn't even know I had a spare tire and a jack in my trunk. It's amazing how many things I don't know about my car. The spare tire, as I learnt from Busola's dad, was a doughnut. It was one tiny tire that looked like it belonged to a motorcycle.

In spite of my discomfort with the tire, I drove one hour to Capitol Heights to meet NaijaBloke. The party was bubbling. The musician was Mr. Solek. I had never heard about him till that day, but he was really good. The music was the kind that had you bopping your head and tapping your feet unconsciously. I really wanted to dance, but Funmi and the rest were not there to act stupid with me on the dance floor. NaijaBloke was on the dance floor talking with his friends and he asked me to come & dance. I was still sitting down doing shakara... until I spotted Mr. Kisser.

I jumped up from my seat and ran to NaijaBloke. I told him I needed to make a call, so I ran outside & called Funmi. The stupid girl just laughed @ me. I went back inside and went straight to the dance floor. I tried [unsuccessfully] to cover my face with my braids. That dance that I was doing shakara for ehn, I started dancing it immediately. I refused to look @ Mr. Kisser's face, but I had to watch him from the corner of my eyes to make sure he was not too close.

Eventually, our eyes met. But I chickened out and looked away immediately. LOL. Mr. Kisser kept looking @ me, but I kept dancing and acting oblivious to the pair of eyes that were watching me closely. I knew Mr. Kisser would not approach me as long as I was with NaijaBloke. But when I got tired of the staring, I told NaijaBloke that I had to leave. Really, I was tired, but that was not my main reason for running away. Bloke said I should give him 5 minutes. He went to talk to his friends. Those five minutes felt like five hours. I felt so alone. So vulnerable. So naked! Mr. Kisser was still watching me. He was trying to make me sweat. LOL.

Finally, Bloke walked me outside. If you see the speed I used to drive off ehn... I didn't even care that I was driving on a doughnut. Kai! Which kin wahala be dis? The reason why I really didn't wanna talk to Mr. Kisser was because I had been ignoring his calls. I had stopped picking his calls after that one conversation we had where he complimented the ebony skin that I didn't have.

I told my marine friend about my ordeal, and he had a good suggestion: next time I'm in such a situation, I should approach the person first and accuse him of not calling me or returning my calls. LOL. See me see madness ooo! If I had done that, Mr. Kisser woulda called me crazy. LOL.

Anyway, I fixed my tire yesterday (after visiting 3 different locations under the hot sun). They said the hole was so big that it could not be patched. I got a new tire. Don't ask me where the hell I drove my car into. I've been asking myself the same question. Bloke had the nerves to say that women cannot drive. I go wound pesin oo!

Six Quirks About Me

To all the people who tagged me, I say: UNA DO WELL OOO!!! If not that I have the fear of God in me ehn, I for show una shege! Who told you people I wanna be tagged? Respect urselves ooo! If this happens again, I cannot promise not to break a few fingers. Ehen..

The Rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you to this post - Dark ElCee, Aloof, & Standtall

2. Mention the rules in your blog - Yes, that's what you're reading right now.

3. Tell 6 unspectacular quirks of yours - Only six?? Ok

4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them - I'll do that @ the end of my post

5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged - I'll do that as soon as I publish this post.


Six Quirks Bout Me:

1. I play with my breasts. It's not sexual, but I just can't stop. It's been a [bad] habit since I was a kid. I have tried to stop, but I can't. I always catch my hand in my shirt doing God-knows-what. Sometimes, I hold the entire breast; sometimes, just the nipple. I hold the steering wheel with my left hand and hold my breast with my right hand. I've been caught at traffic lights by male drivers, and they've usually given me the you-don't-have-to-do-it-yourself look. I've had to zoom off as soon as the light turns green.

2. I talk to myself. I know most people do, but when I talk to myself, I count my syllables. I add up the syllables of all the words I have spoken to myself, and I make sure they are even. I don't want my speech to myself to be odd. Example: I won't say "Oh God, look at that" because it's 5 syllables. I'd rather say "Oh, my God, look at that" because it's six syllables.

3. I won't order pizza with pineapples on it, but I don't mind eating it. The catch is that I must pick all the pineapples out. Now here is the weird part: I'll eat the pineapples as long as I throw a piece in my mouth, and then take a bite of pizza. It makes no sense. I might as well eat the pizza with the pineapple on it. But I can't. I have to separate them, and then eat them together,

4. When I'm doing number two (AKA 'shitting'), I make sounds as if I'm pushing a baby. I even tell myself to push. I breath thru pursed lips and wipe the invisible sweat on my forehead. Then I'll keep screaming things like "Yam, you did this to me!"... depending on what I ate before doing number two. If it's Chinese food, I'll say, "Chinese food, you did this to me!!" I guess when I'm in real labor, I'll say [insert my future husband's name here], you did this to me!"

5. I'm obsessed with greeting cards. I love giving them as much as I love receiving them. I have sooooo many cards for my future husband. I even have cards for our first wedding anniversary. Now that I have the cards ready, all I need is the husband. That shouldn't be too difficult, right? LOL. I have birthday cards for guys, girls, and even kids. I have Valentine cards for my future hubby too. It's a sad, sad case, I tell you. I'm ashamed of even admitting it.

6. I keep weird things. In 2004 (or was it 2003), my marine friend gave me a pack of gum. I am yet to eat it; I never will. In February of this year, a six year old boy gave me a lolipop for Valentine. I'm also yet to eat that. I keep the little papers that are tucked inside fortune cookies; I keep movie tickets & put the names of the owners on them, and of course, I keep cards too. I still have cards from seven years ago.

7. (call this extra credit). I'm a sniffer. I sniff my bed; I sniff the couch; I sniff my purse; I sniff my wallet; I sniff the inside of my car (I've thought about sniffing my engine, but I haven't done so yet); I sniff people; I sniff my hair (fake or real); I sniff my stuffed animals; I sniff my pet fish, Philip (So far, I have been able to withstand the temptation of perfuming him). When I get my German Shepherd dogs, I will sniff them too. I will sniff my future husband & children. I sniff my clothes, shoes, and jewelry. I even sniff my keys. (What normal person sniffs keys? I do. Yes, I refer to myself as 'normal'). I sniff my laptop, my books, my pens, my breasts, my underarms, my hands, my feet...everything that is sniffable gets sniffed. Did you know that our sense of smell is our strongest one? I think I have an itty bitty problem with smell. This is evidenced by the following:

- The perfumes I have (over 30...and still counting)
- The 7 air freshners in my car (lucky number 7??)
- The perfume in my purse (in case I forget to perfume @ home)
- The endless list of perfumes I'm still gonna get (and they are not cheap! Somebori help me please; I'm broke!)
- The 3 air fresheners in the bathroom.
- The liquid air freshners in the living room (those ones you pour in a little thingy and place a lighted candle underneath them. What are they called again??
- And of course, the Febreeze fabric freshener I always spray on the couch.

P.S. I refuse to vacuum without carpet deodorizer!

And on the day that I vacuum, I refuse to cook! If I cook, the smell of the food will spoil the smell of the carpet deodorizer. I'd rather stay hungry than compromise the smell of the carpet.

Feel free to call me weird. You won't be the first.

I tag the following people: Black James Bond, Tobenna, The Last King of Scotland, Babasola, Boorish Male, Tayo Odukoya.

Did anyone notice I tagged only guys?? Sorry ladies, today is not your day. LOL. If you've already done the tag...oh well.

UPDATE: Standtall suggested that I tag Funmie...in spite of her being female *rolling eyes*. So Funmie, consider yourself tagged!

Happy Birthday, Funmie!!!

This is a scheduled post. If it appears on my blog on Thursday, May 15th 2008 @ 12:01 AM, then that means it made it on time. If not....oops!

Today is Funmie's birthday. I'm grateful to God for granting her another wonderful year. He is faithful. I'm obviously dedicating this entire post to Funmi. She's worth it and much more.

I met Funmie in 2002. We have been inseparable since then...and I do not mean this in a romantic way. She's fine, but she is not that fine. Funmie is the bestest friend a gal could wish for. She's kind, she's loving, she's generous, she's sweet, she's funny, she's dumb, she's nice (a little too nice sometimes...but anyway)... and she's beautiful - inside and out.

At the risk of sounding queer, I must admit that Funmi has spoilt me, and continues to spoil me. When I did not have a car, she would come to my house in the morning to gimme a ride – even though I never asked her to (okay, maybe I asked her a few times). And it was not like my house was even on her way. She actually went out of her way to pick me up.

She always comes to my house to chill with me on my birthday, and she always buys me cake. She has bought me sooo many shoes that I have lost count. E don tey since Funmi dey spoil me ooo! She always buys me just-because gifts. The man who ends up with Funmi will be the luckiest man (after the man that marries me, of course. LOL). And her culinary skills are da bomb!

When I started writing Every Woman, Funmi was so into it, and was so determined to make me write that she started buying me stuff for every chapter I wrote. Come on, how many friends will do that?? For every blog post I put up – no matter how insignificant it may be, Funmi takes out time to leave comments. Funmi is my biggest fan.

If anything were to arise tomorrow, I can trust Funmi to be by my side. If I should find myself in the middle of a scandal tomorrow, I can trust Funmi to still take my side. She may yell at me privately, but outside, she will defend me. Recent events have proven that she will not wash her hands of me when the going gets bad; she’ll stick with me – which is why I have promised her a permanent spot in the boot (trunk) of my future Range Rover. LOL.

Funmi is a rare gem. I will not give her up for anything. Funmi is just like Panadol – if e no be Funmi, e no go fit be like Funmi. Where else will I find a friend whose shoe and bra I can share? And if you care 2 know, no, we do not share thongs. I may have stolen a few new thongs, but that’s what friends do, right?

My prayers for Funmi:

1. May you be all that you aspire to be in life.
2. May God grant you long life & prosperity.
3. May you not ever be far away from me.
4. May you always be available to cook egwusi soup for me.
5. May you continue to spoil me.
6. May we continue to have the same shoe and bra size – so we can continue to share. By the way, where’s my white strapless bra???
7. May you have at least one child on my birthday – Jan 14th.
8. May you stay beautiful – inside & out.
9. May you always have reasons to smile and show off your gorgeous dimples.
10. May you learn to ride a bicycle. Riding the immobile bike in the gym does not count as knowing how to ride a bicycle. Somebori, please tell her.
11. May you always remain my one & only Fufustic Fufu (yes, this is a name I made up for Funmie)

Funmie, some day, I’ll make the money you have been dreaming about, and then perhaps, I can spoil you a little bit. If you want, we can even go on a honeymoon trip, just the two of us. Just say the word, love.

Happy Birthday! I love you to bits.

…Oya, start wishing my Funmi a happy birthday.

And by the way, Funmi... I did not type this post in light of recent events. I typed this up ever since...which is why I was asking for your picture. I had no intention of "editing" it. And I did not edit this post either.

Does This Mean That I Am No Longer Anonymous??

On Saturday, May 3rd, I attended a get-together celebrating the 5th birthday of Nigerian Village Square. I was invited by Dimaanu, one of the members of NVS. I wasn't gonna go...cause you know I am anonymous *cough*, but Dimaanu used her sweet mouth to convince me to come. I was supposed 2 go with Uju and Funmi, but I ended up going with only Uju. Funmi had some issues with her job, and could not get off work early enough.

I'm really glad I went. I met lots of beaurriful people - inside and out.

• I met Big K - the founder & administrator of NVS. He's soooooo down to earth. He came all the way from Chicago. I had to beg him 2 stop dancing Yahoozee b4 the Yahoozee police arrests him for "overdancing"
• I met Dimaanu, and she was just as sweet as the egwusi soup she cooked. I was gonna pour some of the soup in my purse sef, but as per first impression, I didn't want 2 disgrace myself - YET
• I met Wayo Guy, but contrary to his name, there is nothing wayo about him. He actually hosted us. And he had a very lively personality.
• I met Baba Boyz - a very funny guy. Easy to talk to, and a great sense of humor. He asked me about Mr. Kisser; he wanted to know if it was a true story. Sadly, Mr. Kisser really does exist.
• I met Atomic Kitten - this kitten was very atomic indeed. Na oversexy dey do am. (I learnt the term 'oversexy' from Mr. Total Package)
• I met Omojeje - she could not stop dancing & smiling. I think she was blushing for me. What can I say? We had kemistry. LOL
• I met African Chiquito No. 1 - and she refused to reveal her real name, but as fate will have it, I have found out the name she has been hiding. I was not seeking the in4mation oo. I was jejely sitting down, and gbam, information came & met me. Who am I to reject such inifo?
• I met Arseyme - another beaurriful babe. She seemed quiet and shy, but who knows sef? If a loud trouble maker like Uju can come across as shy, then the possibilities are endless.
• I met Churchill Okonkwo & his gorgeous wife whose name I cannot remember at this time, but they are a beaurriful couple.

There were so many others, but my mind is kinda running blank right now, so bear with me. But it was really nice meeting them all. We're looking forward to having a bigger party next year. Big K has appointed me as one of the organizers. Oh boy!

The thing I love most about NVS is its maturity and intellectuality. Some of these other forums are filtrated with small pikins that cannot contribute anything to one's intelligence. If anything, they suck your brain cells. NVS, on the other hand, is filled with beaurriful, smart people - you know kind of like me. LOL. So if they say smart, beaurriful people should come out now, I go follow comot abi? LOL.

So now that I have revealed myself AND taken pictures which are now on the internet (although I was not tagged in any of the pictures), does that mean I am no longer anonymous?? Well, I'm still anonymous. That's my story & I'm sticking to it! After all, there are some people that still don't know what I look like. But kai, it's so much easier to not be anonymous. I'm tired of hiding. The fact that I write with my real name makes it even harder. *sigh*

Of course, I took lotsa pictures of everyone (including myself). I woulda put up pictures of some of the villagers, but I did give them my word that I wasn't gonna put them on my blog. Since I am a woman of her words - except 4 instances where I change my mind, I will not post their pictures.

If you are not a member of NVS, you should do so now. http://www.nigeriavillagesquare.com/ You won't regret it.

Meanwhile, please take a moment to read my new article: By Their Looks, You Shall Know Them. And don't forget 2 leave comments o!

Shallom.

The Waist vs. Hips Pheomenon

I was reading my Psyc textbook the other day, and I came across some interesting stuff. Well, it might not be interesting to you, but you know how I find everything 'interesting.'

According to my Psyc textbook, men generally prefer women whose waists are 30% smaller than their hips.

So guess what I did? Yeap, you guessed it. I got my measuring tape (which is always handy by the way), and I got to measuring.

It is with great difficulty and shame that I regret to announce the news: my waist is 7% bigger than it should be, which means that my waist is only 23% smaller. **sigh**

So I've been wondering, and pondering how to fix this new physical problem I just found out (as if I don't have enough already!) I have come up with three options:

Option 1: Decrease my waist size by 7%. This will be achieved by doing 500 sit ups in the morning, 500 sit ups during lunch, and 500 sit ups in the night. I'll even have sit ups for dessert and snacks sef. In addition to this, I will eat only fruits & veggies, drink gallons of water, and run to wherever I'm going to. After all, running will save me some gas. I will also wear an extra tight corset 24/7 amd tie my stomach with that big belt. Back in the day, the belt was known as an 'abortion belt.' Whether this belt aborted any babies or not has been a mystery 2 me. I'm hoping it didn't.

Option 2: Increase my hips size by 7%. No dietery changes will be necessary for this. I'll just continue the diet I am currently on. It is known as the eat-sleep-then-eat-again diet. So far, it has worked for me. This will explain the rapid increase in my butt and thighs. At first, I thought it had something to do with global warming and the price of gas, but apparently not.

Option 3: Scrap the whole thing. These Psychologists dunno what they're talking about! As far as I'm concerned, 23% is the new 30% anyway.

...Yeap, I'm definitely going for option 3, albeit Option 2 is embedded in it...kinda sorta (but without the increase in hips size abeg).

LOL.

Note to God: Please understand that Option 2 is only a joke! If I wake up tomorrow morning and find one inch added to my hips, we go fight ooo! Make you no carry this kin thing dey play with me. Ehen. Let no1 say I did not tell God o because He has a way of playing practical jokes on me, and they are not funny!!!

So ladies, how much smaller is your waist???

To measure your waist, use your belly button as a landmark. Put the tape on your belly button and go around your tummy.

To measure your hips, use the farthest/biggest part of your butt as a landmark. Make sure the tape is lying on the side sticking out by the side of your thigh. If you do not have a side sticking out, then sorry o. E get as e be. LOL

This Should Be About Uju, But Is It?

Friday, April 18th was Uju’s birthday. Her boyfriend got us VIP passes at Heritage Lounge in D.C. I went there with my buddy. Funmi went with Ibukun. Wait, lemme talk about my buddy for a second.

I was gonna call him Mr. Perfect Teeth because he has perfect teeth. I kid you not. He has the kind of teeth you would use in a commercial for braces. His teeth would represent the ‘after’ shot(s). His teeth will show you how good your teeth could look after using braces. The lucky guy never even wore braces! But then I decided not to call him Mr. Perfect Teeth because he is also a fine boy, so maybe I should call him Mr. Fine Boy. However, I could call him Mr. Gorgeous Smile because his smile is gorgeous. He has that Colgate smile. You know the one I’m talking about. I’m talking about that kind of smile that makes you smile when nothing is funny. You just smile because you see a smile. I could also call him Mr. Generous. Giving seems to come very easily for him. And he always does it with a smile on his face. What about Mr. Well Groomed? His hair is cut low and very neat. He has just the right amount of facial hair. Enough hair to tickle you, but not enough to prick you like little needles – not that I have experienced it. *coughs*

I can actually call him Mr. Bangin Body. Yeah, he’s got a beautiful body. His muscles are not over the top; they’re just perfect. His arms tell you he spends some time lifting things (or people), and the six quadrants on his stomach tell a story of their own. And he’s also Mr. Thoughtful. He wants what he wants, but he is not selfish. He likes what he likes, but he’ll gladly do what you like – even though he doesn’t like it. He’s Mr. Sexy. A good-smelling man is a wonderful man. A man who looks as good as he smells is a WONDERFULER man. He is Mr. Good Dresser. He always dresses the part; you don’t have to worry about him showing up wearing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

After considering the different names my buddy could bear, I finally decided on one name: Mr. Total Package. I need not explain this one. He’s got the total package.

…But uhm, this post is about Uju *rolling eyes*. Anyway, the event @ Heritage Lounge was being hosted by a Ghanaian. That has to be the only logical explanation for why they played Ghanaian music all thru. No Yahoozee, no P-Square, no Timaya. I vexed oo. (Actually, they played ‘Yahoozee’ & ‘Do Me’ once, but that was b4 we came in, so that doesn’t count!) They coulda @ least played some Makosa. To top it off, they now had a Ghanaian celebrity. We (the Naija people) had no clue who he was, but as we later found out, he was a rapper. See the way chics were running to take pictures with the dude ehn? Nawa o. Celebrity status no bad @ all sha.

Uju was drunk, or maybe just tipsy. Whatever it was, I know she was not herself. She was dancing with her eyes closed and laughing unnecessarily. Unfortunately, we didn’t take pictures. I had my camera, but everyone (except me) was too busy being naughty. When Mr. Total Package asked me what I wanted to drink, I ordered a Bone Crusher (Maybe it’s spelt ‘Krusher’). I had never heard about this drink before. I only ordered it because Uju said I should. The thing tasted like pure alcohol. I might have as well been sipping from a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I only drank about a quarter of it. Uju drank the rest (in addition to the one she had before). The chic was very happy ooo..

It wasn’t a bad event anyway. I’m hoping I don’t appear in anyone’s pictures coz you know I’m an anonymous writer, lol. After the event, Uju left with her boyfriend. Can you believe the chic put her head out of the window of the moving car and was screaming her lungs out at three in the morning? I don’t know bout you, but that definitely spells DRUNK to me. Kai, I wish I had taken pictures. Funmi & Ibukun went their way. Mr. Total Package and I went our way – to wherever hot men and anonymous writers go to.

I didn’t sleep till past 8 in the morning. You shoulda seen my face. I looked like I had been hit by a bus. A puffy face is definitely not my best look.

The Search For A Push-Up Bra

This is my second time blogging about bras. What is it with me and bras sef? The first time I blogged about bras, I was blogging about strapless bras - the day that my mother confidently asked for a sleeveless bra. What on earth is a sleeveless bra?!

Tomorrow (Friday, April 18th) is Uju's birthday. Her boyfriend suggested that we all take her out. I'm fine with this idea, of course. My only problem is that she has not given me my birthday gift yet, and I am seriously considering suing her to court. My birthday was 3 months ago, and she has been turning me up and down. You might think that she is not obligated to give me a birthday gift, but I believe otherwise. I'm pretty sure she does not want me to forcefully take it. If I do not receive my birthday gift in the nearest future, she will be sorry. She kuku knows what I am capable of.

Anyway, I went to Macy's today in search of a push-up bra. I patrolled the entire lingerie section fruitlessly. I figured I must have been looking in the wrong section, so I asked one of the staff. She pointed a different area of the lingerie section for me to check out. I looked through the place, and indeed found a lot of push-up bras, but none that came in my size. Instead, I was constantly attacked by size 32A. What the heck is that?! Is that even a size?? Seriously, should 32A cups even wear bras? Maybe that's what is stunting the growth of the breasts sef. Why on earth will someone with a 32A cup even wear a bra? You should let the breasts be free and be merry.

If you look at the picture very well, you will notice that by the left side of the bra, there is a before and after picture. The before picture is called, 'THEN' and the after picture is called 'WOW'. Well, eventually, I found a push up bra. I wore it @ Macy's, and it didn't seem bad. I came home and tried it on with the top I intend to wear on Friday, and my result was not WOW. It was more like WOW x WOW x WOW x WOW. Okay, so I guess I understand why push-up bras don't really come in my size. In other words, tooooo much breasts were flying all over the place. Alright, maybe not all over, but darn, I don't wanna mistake my own breasts for big, round yellow stress balls. I assume that the pain that stress balls go thru is way too much for my breasts to bear. I don't think any amount of anesthesia will be strong enough. I don't even wanna find out.

I took a picture of my breasts with the push-up bra and sent it to Funmi for her viewing pleasure. I am yet to get a reply. On one hand, the bad chic in me (if she is not a figment of my imagination) wants to wear the push-up bra, but on the other hand, the good girl in me (the one I know definitely exists, lol) does not want to wear it. I'm so torn and confused. I don't want a situation where I'm constantly tugging at my shirt and trying to cover up. That would be silly.

I have to confess that I do admire women who wear push-up bras. They usually look nice (not all of them, of course), but can Vera actually be woman enough to do it? I don't think so oooo. I have been known to be a chicken, and I am proud to admit that I am indeed a chicken. Wetin man [woman] go do?

Note to Uju (and all other people who owe me gifts; you know yourselves), here is a list of perfumes you should get me. You're welcome to get me more than one. And uhm, I'll prefer the gift sets ooooooo. *coughs* I went out of my way to provide the prices of the gift sets for you. You can thank me later.

1. Miracle Forever by Lancome [$55 @Macy's]

2. Romance by Ralph Lauren [$75 @ Macy's]

3. Rock n Rose by Valentino [$68 @ Macy's]

4. Pleasures by Estee Lauder [$58 @ Macy's]

5. M by Mariah Carey [$65 @ Macy's]

6. Covet by Sarah Jessica Parker [$72 @ Macy's]


p.s. These are listed in order of preference. Thank you. I'll be expecting my giftS.

I Met Mr. Kisser

Who is Mr. Kisser? Read and learn.

On Saturday, I attended a Gala/Fund Raiser hosted by the Unique Ladies of Anambra State. My mother told me about the event two months ago and told me about my mandatory attendance because she had already paid the $75 ticket fee for me, which of course was non refundable. Why did she go and pay for me? She knew that was the only way to guilt me into attending it, and she refused to let me pay for it too. I didn’t want to go. I figured it would be one of those overpriced parties where one of two things will happen:

(1) It would be a tiny hall made for 200 people, but will be filled with 500 sweating Igbo people.
(2) It would be a huge fall for 500 people, but will contain thirty overdressed, over made-up women and 5 alleged husbands who will be openly having adultery of the mind.

But to my pleasant surprise, none of the above happened. The party took place at Martins Crosswinds, an upscale banquet hall located in Greenbelt, Maryland – about an hour away from me. The decoration was perfect; the spacing was perfect too. I mean, there was actually space to dance, and while dancing, nobody’s sweat was rubbing off of me. Great!

The Unique Women are beautiful and classy – no lies. If I were in their age group, I wouldn’t mind joining them. When the fundraising began, I was impressed. People gave in thousands…and in cash ooo! One man donated $4000. Donating $4000 in this time of austerity no dey easy o. Hmmm, I want to be like him when I grow up lol. Some of the Unique Women and guests had some funny afa otutus (nicknames) like ‘seven footer nwanyi’ (seven feet tall woman) lol, ‘unique sunshine’, and ‘Marilyn Monroe’. Needless to say, Marilyn Monroe was neither White nor blonde.

Fast forward to me taking random pictures of random people. I’m fond of taking pictures of people 4 the heck of it. Sooo, Mr. Kisser happened to appear in two of my pictures. He approached me and asked who I work for. I told him I do not work for anyone. I guess my big camera was sending the wrong message. LOL. But anyways, he asked how he would get his pictures. I told him I could email the pics to him, so I gave him a piece of paper to write down his email address where he conveniently included his number.

He later pulled me aside to talk to me. You know the regular questions. What’s your name? What do you do for a living? Where do you live? Yadda, yadda, yadda. He lives in Greenbelt. I live in Baltimore. About an hour difference. He asked for my number. I gave it. We parted ways and I went back into the hall to sit down and do some people-watching. The DJ put Shina Peters’s Afro Juju, which I love! But I had no intention of getting up to dance. My friends were not there to go crazy with me.

Next thing I knew, Mr Kisser pulled me up. He danced pretty well sha, but you know I had to hold my own. So I started going down too, showing off and everything, but mehn… my feet were killing me. I was standing there on stilettos that I had been wearing for hours and it wasn’t easy, but I refused to back down.

So I went down…. oh God… my feet.
I went down again… oh God… my thighs
Oh… God…. My knees.

I tell you, every time I came up, I felt woozy. It was as if I was about to have a brain fag. I was just too tired jare. I had hardly had any sleep, and I had spent the whole day at the library. Why didn’t I just back down? I suffered through the pain, smiled a fake smile and let myself be the object of attention. If only they knew what I was going through. Just when I thought the music was ending, the DJ had to replace the song with Yinka Ayefele…another man I love. Oh DJ, but why now?!

Fast forward to the end of the party. It was raining, so I volunteered to go in the rain and bring the car around for my mom & grand mom. Mr. Kisser was nice enough to walk me to the car, and that was when it happened. As I was about to enter the car, Mr. Kisser reached in for what I thought was a hug, but next thing, I saw a pair of lips rapidly approaching mine. Ah ah! Mr. Kisser, haba! My autonomic response kicked in with immediate alacrity, and I had to either fight or flight. Seeing as I was standing on stilettos, fighting was a lot easier. So fight I did. I had to push him off. He asked, “Why? Is it because you don’t know me well?”

Errr, duh!!

Haba! Na so dem dey get babe for your village? So just because we exchanged some little information, we should start swapping spit abi? I don’t even know what kinda particles are brewing in his spit. Abeg, Mr. Kisser…carry go. That is an abormination in my land ooo. Tufia kwa! My people, no be say I dey fear oh, but I used speed to enter the car and drive off.

I’m not gonna send him his pictures yet. Why? I told him my real name, and if I send the pictures, my name will appear. I wouldn’t want him to get bored and google me and lo and behold, this website will pop up. He called me today. Red flags were flying everywhere. For starters, he was at a noisy place with his friends, and his attention was divided. That’s a big, fat X. He complimented my ebony skin. The problem is that I’m not ebony; I’m light skinned. That’s another big, fat X. He told me I’m beautiful. I said thanks about twice or thrice. He said, “That was a compliment; you didn’t say thanks.” Uh oh. Another X. I might be wrong, but Mr. Kisser strikes me as one who will demand that I walk around with a t-shirt that says, ‘Mr. Kisser is Lord’.

Meanwhile, my strapless bra gave me this yeye burn or whatever you'll call it. I tried several times to take a picture of it with my Nikon camera, but my breast refused to stop appearing in the picture, so I had to use the camera of my phone. The Nikon kept auto focusing on my breast. Naughty, naughty camera!! I scrolled in as much as I could with my camera phone and stood in front of the mirror to get the shot. You see what women have 2 suffer? Hmmm, and to think I once used to be flat chested.

Finally, if you care to see a few pictures from the Unique Women's Gala, check out http://verastic.shutterfly.com

They Want My Downfall

Who are these people? "my enemies," Busola, and Funmi.

Gala Mania: I have been practically harrassing Tayo Odukoya for the longest time because I found out that his office is close to gala. I love gala!! Every time someone is going to Naija, I make sure I ask for gala, but somehow, they come back without it. In December of last year, Uju went to Naija for Xmas, and I made sure to warn her to bring back lots and lots and lots of gala. Can you believe the gal came back with only two?? I vexed oo! I raked for her properly. In short, if not that I was being held ehn, I for panel beat her face well well. So I finally took my gala home, and you shoulda seen the speed at which I opened one of it. I took one bite and…

It is with a heavy heart and deepest sorrow that I regret to announce I have fallen out of love with gala. What the hell happened?? All it took was one bite and I wanted to spit it out. This falling out of love with gala is not natural oo, ah ah! Our relationship did not die a natural death. Someone must have played a hand in it. My enemies must be after me again. They want to see my downfall, and they have attacked me through my love for gala. How else do you explain the sudden demise of my hyperactive taste buds for gala? I have been craving this thing for years!! I finally got it and I could hardly swallow the first bite. Chei! Helplessly and hopelessly, I watched as my one and three-quarter packs of gala entered my mother’s mouth and got churned and swallowed. I never even bothered telling Uju what happened. How could I?

Message to my enemies: You may have won the battle, but the war is mine!! I will never, ever, ever stop loving buttermilk shortbread!! And I will never stop loving Eclairs candy either!!! If you don’t believe me, send me a box of each.

Busola: Make una see me see wahala oo! This so-called friend of mine (Busola) is determined to ruin my very good reputation. Can somebori tell me why my Facebook profile says I’m married to Busola? Which day did this one happen? I remember being her maid of honor (which was an honor to her, of course), but which one be marriage again? What if a potential suitor sees my profile and moves on to someone else ehn? Tufia kwa! Busola, get thee behind me! I rebuke you!

Busola edited the details on how we know each other, and then she signed into my Facebook and accepted them. So now, according to my Facebook profile, we are married. The whole thing is just funny. The other day, one of my readers sent me an email congratulating me on my wedding. He said he loved my wedding pictures. That’s great, of course. The problem is that I neither had a wedding nor do I have any wedding pictures. The reader saw pictures of Busola and her husband, and he thought I was Busola and Busola’s husband was Busola. LOL.

Only our mutual friends and acquaintances will know that the whole marriage thing is just a joke. People that know me and do not know Busola will think I am really married to a man called Busola, and they will see that picture and think the man in the picture is Busola. Of course, it goes vice versa for Busola’s profile. People that know her and do not know me will think I am the man in the picture. Which kin nonsense be this? LOL.

People will really think I’m married to one betta person not knowing it’s just one small-breasted girl in PG county of Maryland. I have told the girl to stop wearing bra, so that we can see if there is hope for her tatas to grow, but mba, she insists on stunting their growth. They have been the same size for over a decade now. Nawa o. One day now, her husband will vex and just start playing with his own breast. They’re almost the same size anyway.

LOL. I can foresee Busola calling/texting me to tell me I’m a big fool for writing about her again. But I cannot help it now. She keeps blushing every time she sees me. Her week is just not the same without me. LOL. Could this be love? Oh yeah, it’s definitely love.

Funmie: The other person that wants my downfall is Funmi. Funmi also has the password to my Facebook account. She does not have a Facebook account and has refused to get one. Why? She claims that getting a Facebook account will make her be on Facebook all the time. The reason why this is such a silly excuse is that she is already on Facebook all the time! The only difference is that she does it with my name. Imagine the konkobility! (I don’t know what konkobility means; I learnt it from a Naija movie). It is because of Funmi that I receive text messages at three in the morning from friends asking me why I am still on Facebook. Meanwhile, my laptop is off and I am deep in sleep oo! LOL. People send me emails on Facebook expecting me to respond immediately because my Facebook profile says I’m online. Meanwhile, the real culprit has her eyes glued on her laptop screen spying on people who don’t know they are being spied on. Honestly, I dunno where I get my friends from.

Speaking of spying on people, Funmi has this chic she does not like. I’ll call the chic ‘Miss A’. So what did Funmi do? She added Miss A to my list of friends, so that she can properly spy on her. So now, Funmi signs in as Vera to spy on Miss A. I have told her several times that she has a lot of time on her hands. My question is…could this be madness? Yes oooo. Na so craze people dey start. One day now, I’ll see Funmi walking naked on the street.

Update: Funmie just joined Facebook, albeit she claims she only did it to join her Naija High School group. Sure, Funmi!

I just wrote a new article. Check it out. This Marriage Thing Sef. Don't forget to leave comments oooo! I will quiz you later.

**I know this is totally unrelated, but permit me to whine about the Baltimore weather. Just two days ago, it was warm and sunny. It was 78 degrees, and I was almost getting baked, but I didn't complain ooo. Yesterday, it was cold. Today, it's even colder. To make it worse, it has been raining since morning. You know that kind of rain that won't rain heavily, yet refuses to stop falling? Yeap, that's the one. I'm ready for the flip flops, the sunglasses, and the skirts. I'm ready to - - - in fact, I dunno what I'm ready for, but I know I'm ready.

Lancome Jazzed Me

Trouble dey sleep, iyanga dey go wake am up. Lancome people were there on their own oh, and I carried myself and went to them.


Some weeks ago, I was passing through Lancome at Macy's when I saw a flyer for 'Gal's Night Out.' What really, really, caught my eyes was the fact the fact that it was FREE. As a proper Naija gal, you know I have to love all things free. The Gal's Nite Out party was to have my make-up done for FREE by none other than Tommy. Who is Tommy? I had no clue, but I was going to find out for sure.

I invited Funmi and Uju. They both didn't make it. Uju had some reservations because she said Lancome will make her spend money she does not have. Eventually, I convinced her to come, but she still couldn't cause she had to work. Funmi said she did not want to come because they would use the same brush they used for other people for her. Funmi gat jokessss! She must think that makeup artists change their brushes per customer. Anyway, I made an appointment for today at 6:30 PM sharp.

Before I went, my mind was already made up that I will not spend a penny. I knew there was nothing Lancome will say or do to me to ever make me change my mind. So some make-up lady started prepping me sha. Prepping me included cleaning my face with something, rubbing some gel on my face, washing the gel off, rubbing something else on my face, and then rubbing some lotion on top of the something. Oh, and she also rubbed something around my eyes - special lotion for my eyes. She asked me what kinda lotion I rub on my face, and when I told her that I rub my regular good ol' Olay BODY lotion, she almost had a heart attack.

"Body lotion?! You rub body lotion on your face?!"

Ah ah! See me see wahala oo. Is my face no longer part of my body? LOL.


I could not hide my ignorance o. I had to ask her, "Am I supposed to be rubbing something else on my face?"


"Yes! Never, ever rub body lotion on your face. You're lucky you have nice skin...." She went on to explain that the skin on other parts of our body is a lot stronger and tougher than the one on our face. The way she was rubbing the lotion on my face felt really, really good, so I had to ask (out of curiousity), "How much is the lotion?"


She said, "$43"


Forty-flipping-three dollars! Only for one small bottle of lotion?? You've gotta be kidding me. Does she know what I can buy with $43? Four big bottles of Olay body lotion. Big bottles ooo! And this does not include the cost of the other things she put on my face before the lotion alone sef. I could not help but ask her if she goes through the routine everyday, and she said yes. Everyday ke? Does she know how long I take in the bathroom already?? To add five more steps to my bathroom routine will mean an extra thirty minutes for me oh.



Anyway, so after the prepping sha, Tommy finally started working on me. He was kinda cute. Unfortunately, he's gay. Why do the cute ones have to be gay? Apparently, Tommy is a big Lancome makeup artist in New York. He made me up sha, and all through, he could not stop complementing my eyes. In my mind, I was just thinking, "Tommy, you can say what you want oh, but you will not make me spend a dime here! I know you're just tryna sell your product."

Finally, Tommy finished and gave me a mirror, and I was like... WOW!! He actually did a wonderful job. I absolutely loved what he did with my eyes. In fact, I loved the whole nine yards. To be honest, the part of my face that gets the most compliments (however weird the compliments may be) is my eyes. And my eyes are my favorite part to makeup. Tommy used silver eye liner and I was loving it!


At the end, the lady that prepped me asked, "So what will you be taking home today?" She was smart enough to not say, "What will you be BUYING today?"

My brothers and sisters, before the woman finished talking sef, I said, "I want the silver eye liner."


Twenty-freaking-three dollars!!! What da...?! That was how I whipped out my card and paid for it oh. As I drove home, all I could think about was the twenty-three dollars I spent on one skinny eye pencil/liner. How will I explain this to my husband? LOL. Okay, wake up, Vera...you are not married! LOL. Honestly, I really, really like the thing sha, but I just feel really bad for spending so much on only an eye pencil. Which kin yeye thing be this? If I add like $60 to it, I will be able to add one more perfume to my collection (I will blog about my perfumes some other day). But chei!!! These Lancome people don jazz me. Can you imagine the likeness?! A whole me? Realistically, the eye pencil is really long, but how often do I used make up? I have a drawer full of makeup, but I only use them when I'm attending something. I do not have time to be using make-up every time I'm going out.

You know what I'm thinking about? I think I like the foundation too. I hope the Mary Kay people do not read this, but I think the Lancome foundation is better than the Mary Kay one. It probably costs like $35 as opposed to the $14 one I buy from Mary Kay (which is already expensive to me sef). Abeg, I never publish my book na. I'm gonna call them tomorrow and ask how much the foundation costs. And it better be lasting for at least one year! Anyways, to other issues sha...



Nigerian Reunion: I have never, ever attended a Nigerian Reunion. From what I have heard, NRC is the best reunion organizer. They are the ones I have known the longest sha. But anyway, NRC is finally hosting the Nigerian Reunion here in B'more this year, and I'm seriously considering attending it. What will be my excuse for not attending it? I went on their website to see what they will be doing, and one of the things is speed dating. LOL. I am currently writing a new article for Kitu Kizuri, and I am supposed to be open to new ideas and new ways to meet new people. I just might take part in this speed dating thing. If I don't chicken out, I'll definitely take part in it, but I'll need my friends there oo. Hey, what's there to lose??



...But before I call Lancome tomorrow, can someone please tell me to get a grip! Please, stop me. Tell me I cannot afford a tiny bottle of foundation that costs so much. please, tell me.

Kai...but the thing fine sha. I love the foundation so much that I don't even wanna wash my face tonight, but I can't go to bed with so much crap on my face. I don't wanna wake up with pimples the size of moles in the morning. Maybe I'll return the eye pencil/liner and get the foundation. Noooo, I want them both. Oh, Lord! This is a dilemna!!



Help....!



.....Sleepless in Baltimore.

The Silly Things We Do (4)

First of all, Happy Easter!! May today be the beginning of better things in my ---I mean your life. Amen. [The 'Amen' was actually for my life not yours, but anyway...]


This is my 4th post on the silly things we do. Somehow, I have consistently been able to find myself in funny situations. Or maybe I just find too many things funny and laugh too much.


Anyway, this happened on Friday, March 21st 2008 (yes, just two days ago). I had to take my car for emissions test, and I did not know the place. I received the letter ever since, but I had just been too lazy to go. According to the letter, the best time for me to go would be in the morning, and I am one who likes waking up early. I do not want to do anything that will make me wake up earlier than I already do (10:00 AM). Before you brand me as a ‘sleeper’, keep in mind that I keep late nights; I usually go to bed at about three, four, or five in the morning. So you see, I am more of a night person. I’d rather stay up late than wake up early.


Anyway, I finally decided to do the emissions thing on Friday – not because I was looking forward to it, but because I wanted to get it over with before the due date, and besides, the letter they sent me said Thursday and Friday are the least busy days. I printed directions off Mapquest since my car is not yet equipped with GPS (*hint, hint* for my birthday gift next year, although I’d still prefer the Range Rover, but I digress…lol).


I should have jejely followed Mapquest oh, but my mom had to come and tell me otherwise. “Why are you following Mapquest?” She asked me. “Don’t you know they give you long routes?” She was right sha; MapQuest does give longer than necessary routes. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you the directions.” She assured me.


I was ready to leave, and these were my mother’s directions:
Mom: Once you go on Pulaski Highway ehn, just go straightttttttt! When you pass that junction where I buy newspaper for a dollar, you will pass a gas station by your left. Don’t stop there oo! You will go to the next gas station and make a left there. Once you make that left ehn, you will see that small fly over where two cars cannot pass by each other at the same time.


Me: Huh? (a little confused)

Mom: You know that small fly over where there is a traffic light and you have to stop for the incoming car to pass now! Don’t you remember? (Sounding irritated like she cannot believe I don’t understand her ‘simple’ directions)

Me: (scratching head and ‘vaguely’ remembering the ‘fly over’): Okay, ehen continue.

Mom: Ehen, once you pass that fly over ehn, just stay by your left hand side. The people that are going towards East Point Mall will stay by their right. Oh, no, no, no, wait, I made a mistake. Once you pass under the fly over ehn, stay by your right, and the people going to East Point Mall will go left. On that right side of the road, just go straighttttttt. Then you will see the Emissions place by your right.

Me: (puzzled) But how will I know when I’ve gotten to the Emissions place?

Mom: You will see a building where people are driving in and driving out.

Me: (satisfied) Okay.

Did anyone notice that my mother’s directions did not include any street names? The landmarks sef were not concrete enough. All I had to go by were nameless gas stations, the junction where she buys newspaper for $1, the fly over where two cars cannot pass at the same time, and the building where cars are driving in and out of. LOL.


I don’t know which kin nonsense trip I embarked on. I live in Baltimore county, and the emissions place is at Baltimore City. I do NOT know my way around Baltimore City, especially the part close to downtown. My people, na so I wan lost for inside Baltimore City oo. I should have known my mother’s directions had K-leg the moment she could not remember which side of the road I was supposed to be on. The Emissions place is located on Erdman Road. Erdman is a very busy street, full of buildings where cars drive in and out of.


That was how I drove aimlessly, blocking the road, suddenly switching lanes, and making abrupt stops and illegal U-turns. It did not help that Erdman Road has traffic lights like almost every other block. At one point, I stopped in the middle of an intersection because I did not notice there was a traffic light. In short, na by the Grace of Baba God I did not get a big, fat ticket ooo because those City cops can be cruel. I had to keep stopping and asking for directions. Somehow sha, I finally, finally found the building. And guess what? There were no cars driving in and out of the building. You know why? It was Friday – one of the least busy days. Lol.


My baby (car) passed the emissions test sha, and after that, I jejely asked the lady for directions. All I had to make were three right turns. They were soooo flippin easy! And you know what? It was the same direction MapQuest gave me. Chei, this my mother sef. She’s lucky I’ve got nothing but love for her.

Speaking of directions, I was watching a Naija comedy later on the same day. The name is Bone in the Throat – starring John Okafor (played the part of Ignatius, fondly called “Iginae” or “IG”) and Uche Jumbo (played the part of Olamma).

Anyway, Ignatius (John Okafor) spent 15 years in Panya (where the heck is Panya?) and did not accomplish anything before coming back to the village where he became engaged to Ola (Uche Jumbo). Desperate for money, IG embarked on a trip to Asaba in search of a woman known as ‘Nwanyi Asaba’ (means ‘Asaba Woman’). The myth was that all you had to do was suck Nwanyi Asaba’s breast to become rich. So off he went with two of his stupid friends. He grabbed every big-breasted girl he saw and tried to suck her breast by force. Needless to say, no one ever told him that Nwanyi Asaba had big breasts o; he just assumed she did (I guess after so much sucking, the breast had to be of considerable size, huh?). His friends got tired of chasing a waterfall and went back to the village. When IG’s fiancée, Olamma (Uche Jumbo) questioned the whereabouts of IG, his friend, Okey, gave her the following directions:


“Once you enter Asaba kpaaaaaa! (kpaaaa is the sound you hear once you enter Asaba, lol). Just go straiggggggghhhhhhhhttttttttttt (this sounds too much like my mother’s direction. Is this déjà vu?) Then you go right. Then you go small and go left as if you want to go….no, no, no, this direction will confuse you (you think?!). I’ll you another direction. Once you enter Asaba and pass the main bridge that says ‘Welcome to Asaba’ any girl you see with jumbo sized breast, approach her; one way or another, she might have encountered IG.”


…lol. So much for giving her a better direction. [I actually had to rewind the movie to write the directions down, so I can blog about it]

Needless to say, IG never did find Nwanyi Asaba. However, he constantly dreamt of being rich and his afa otutu (nickname) was Chief Chop Money. LOL. Question: since ‘Nwanyi Asaba’ means ‘Asaba Woman,’ doesn’t that mean that every woman in Asaba is “Nwanyi Asaba?” Finding Nwanyi Asaba in Asaba has to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

My friends (better known as the ‘Inter-Galactic Force’ ever since I wrote that article about them) and I had a gal’s nite out last night. It was a romantic date with them, although none of them brought me a dozen roses as I requested. Better luck next time, I guess. The picture by the left is Funmi. She took it herself because according to her, she was "smoking!!" Now, you see why I believe my friends are abnormal.






First, we went bowling. Before we went, Uju could not stop making noise about how good she was. We played three rounds. Timbo & Ibukun did not play. Funmi came first in the first round. I came first the second and third round. Uju did not come first at all. In her defense, she just didn’t want to show all the men at the bowling alley her skills coz she didn’t want them to think she was a superwoman. And she did not want to be recruited as a pro either. Yea, Uju! The picture shows the scoreboard at the end. I had 102 points; Uju had 91, and Funmi had 68. You can click on the picture to see it better, and uhm, I'm currently signing autographs.


After the bowling, we went to see Tyler Perry's new movie: Meet The Browns. Lastly, we had dinner at TGIF where I could not stop laughing my head off at the silly things were saying. You know what happens when you have five ladies, food, and alcohol??? Whew!

There are more pictures of our night out. View them at http://verastic.shutterfly.com/


Need some laughs? Read:

The Silly Things We Do (1) HERE
The Silly Things We Do (2) HERE
The Silly Things We Do (3) HERE


Once again, Happy Easter!!

I Promised...So I'm Delivering.

Boy, it feels like I have been off Blogville for a while. I guess I have. I’m so sad to find out that so many of my blogger mates have stopped blogging. I guess we all just ran out of things to say after a while. I’m hoping they find their spark and come back. Meanwhile, there are sooooo many new bloggers. Whew! I have no clue where to even start. Anyway, I’ll dig them out small small. But uhm, all of una welcome ooo.

So much has been going on. Mr. T and I are finally over. This isn’t actually something that recently happened. It happened since August of last year. It was "good" while it lasted. Even better when it ended. Probably be best when I find a permanent replacement. LOL. Even I, laugh at myself sometimes. At first, it was kinda weird. I was not sure how to feel about the breakup, but now, I am relieved. Sometimes you think something is a disappointment, but then so many good things happen as a result of said disappointment. This breakup was the bomb diggity! I don’t deserve it, but God has been really, really good to me. He has really favored me. I’m a little too excited about this breakup. Is this normal?? I almost feel like throwing myself a “parry.” It is not being single that I am celebrating; it is being emancipated from that. But anyway…

Speaking of my manlessness sef, I recently discovered Banke Mashide-Lawal, and my oh my…is she good or what! The lady makes me wanna get married in Nigeria. In fact, I have booked a hall for my wedding in Nigeria. I have picked my bridesmaids’ dresses, and I have decided what kind of shoes they will all wear. I have picked aso ebi material for all my groups; I have booked the live band, the decorators, and the DJ. Now, all I need to find is the husband cause you know how easy it is…with me having all these men knocking my door down and begging for my hand in marriage…lol, yeah right!

I laugh at my koloness.…but in my defense, I think it runs in the family. Just the other day, I was making fun of my father and his baldness. Over the years, he has gradually been getting bald. The frontal part of his head is so bald that it is as smooth as his face. He even rubs lotion on his head. And when he is under the sun, it will be in your best interest to not look directly at his shining head. Trust me, it is like looking into a mirror that is directed at the sun. Anyway, when I made fun of his hair or lack of it rather, he said that doctors like him do not need hair anyway because in the middle of a surgery, a strand of hair can fall off their head and fall into the open patient. That is the silliest excuse for being bald I have ever heard. What then becomes of the female doctors? Do they all shave their heads to avoid this alleged contamination?

Other news…

You see that camera by the right? Yes, I’m talking about the Nikon D40X. Well, it is no longer in my list of ‘things I want;’ it is now in my list of ‘things I have.’ Lol. I received the camera as a birthday gift in January. What can I say? I wonder if I will receive the Range Rover as a birthday gift next year. *Hint, Hint*

Gas: Gas prices have been rising at a ridiculous rate! Two weeks ago, I bought gas for $3.05 per gallon; last week I bought it for $3.09; today, it was $3.15. And I’m talking about the regular gas o! I don’t even bother looking at the prices of the plus and/or premium gas. I tell you, if gas keeps increasing like this, I might just buy myself a bicycle. Shoot, I don’t even mind transporting myself on a scooter right now.

Young Love: Yesterday, I went for a friend’s get together. I could not resist taking a picture of these love birds. These days, people find their soul mates a lot sooner, huh? My question is…could this be love…??? LOL (The chic even has her nails done...lol)

Happy Easter...!!!

I'm Back...Again

I know what you are thinking, and I can explain. LOL. You think I am here to put up one post and disappear for 6 months, but no be so oooo. This time, it is truly different. Yes, I probably said something like this in my previous posts, but this time, I really, really mean it. I am a changed person. I have turned a new leaf. In fact, the Vera who is blogging now is not the Vera that was blogging the last time. I am so different that I have recently been considering putting my picture up, but the new Verastic Status has not fully kicked in, so I am not quite ready to put my picture up. Besides, I wouldn't want all my blog lovers(what are their names again sef?) to get fired from work because they are wasting valuable work time staring at my picture. LOL. Yeah, that's what it is!

Anyway, I will have a better, more interesting blog post for you on Monday. Consider this post to be a Hi-I'll-be-back-with-the-main-post kinda post. You know what I mean. First thing Monday morning, I'll be here. I hope you will too. I promise I'll be here. I'm promising, so that means I'll really be here. And when I say "first thing Monday morning," I mean my time o...! As in Eastern American time, which is currently 5 hours behind Naija.

See you on Monday!!

Some Break @ Last

I'm really tired of saying sorry for pulling disappearing acts, so I'm sure you're just as tired of hearing me say it.

We are finally at the end of the semester - thank God. I woke up this morning with a throbbing headache. I guess I have been keeping too many late nights again. This semester has been something else. I think I had somewhere to go or something to do every weekend, which is soooo unlike me. Blame it on all the people that have been falling in love = bridal showers and weddings and all the people that have been getting pregnant = baby showers. I am soooo tired of attending these things, believe me. I am running out of clothes to wear.

Meanwhile, I have been relentlessly dreaming about my future camera - theNikon D40X. I just love it! I want it and I gotta have it. The thing is, I don't have money for it. Matter of fact, I finally checked my checking account today, and guess how much I have in it? $43! LOL. Blame it on Xmas and the darn parties that I had to buy gifts for. So considering the fact that I only have $43 in my account, I obviously cannot afford to buy that camera. It costs a whopping $699 (before tax, lol). Busola told me I would never get it; she will be very surprised. Of course, I have no clue how, when, where, or from who I will get it. I just know that I will. Someone somewhere will be generous. Shoot, for all I know, Oprah might just pass by my blog and decide to give me a Xmas gift. U never know, right?

Uju has travelled to Naija, and I am soooo jealous. I told her to better come back with some gala and Xpression hair attachment or else!

I think I'm gonna stop here 4 now. I will be back to say more. I just got tired of procastinating.

Have All The Bloggers Moved 2 Facebook??

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving!!! Yeah, I know I've been gone for a minute, but woah! Where are all the bloggers? Even faithful bloggers like Taurean Minx & London Buki are no where to be found. What has Blogville turned in2??

I see a lotta bloggers are constantly and faithfully on Facebook...abandoning their blogs. That facebook of a thing, na juju o! I mean one minute you're hating it, and then the next minute, you join it for the sake of 'networking', and b4 you know it, it overtakes your life. Every minute you're on facebook...wandering, looking, finding, gossiping... writing on walls, editing friend details, adding friends, poking friends, watching videos on the funwall, looking @ pictures, answering questions, joining groups, taking quizzes.... chei!! E get as e be o! Facebook is a world on its own. Of course, one could say I'm speaking from experience, but I would never say for sure.

I miss my blog. I miss coming here to talk (write) about my day. I miss having a medium to vent. Facebook is kool & all, but it does not give me the same feeling of blogging. It does not let me write about people and all that stuff. I miss you, my dear blog.

While I was in limbo, some people left me several comments and sent me several emails, disclosing their disappointment in me for leaving Blogville without saying goodbye. I am terribly sorry o; I did not leave. I merely took an unexpected/unplanned break. I think I ran outta things to say; it's not easy you know. Body no be firewood. Busola's wedding, school, & work also contributed to my limited time and lack of inspiration to write (AKA laziness). So it's safe 2 say I'm back.

Busola's wedding was no joke o! Home gal had be so exhausted! In fact, I just recovered. I stayed up last night playing with my template. The one I had b4 got screwed up...somehow. So I played with it, and this is all I came up with. I like it sha. Uploading pictures isn't the funnest thing to do on blogger, so try and enjoy these three pics. The traditional one was taken on her engagement day. I just think she looks soooooo beautiful.

Please Be Patient With Me

It may not look like it, but honestly I have not abandoned my blog. Things have just been sooo hectic. I am behind on just about everything. Busola's wedding is next week Saturday (Oct 27th); I am the maid honor :) but I have not bought everything I need. Therefore, I am too busy running around from store to store trying to buy stuff because I have to be @ her house on Thursday night. The engagement is Friday; the wedding is Saturday, and I'm dropping them off @ the airport on Sunday so they can run off 4 their honeymoon.

So here is a breakdown of my schedule so far:

• Saturday, Oct 20th: Going to Busola's house 2 pack her things & move them 2 Hubby's house
• Saturday, Oct 20th again: surprise birthday party 4 someone (can't put person's name up in case said person reads this).
• Thurday Oct 25th: Moving to Sola's house in preparation of the wedding
• Friday, Oct 26th: Engagement
• Saturday, Oct 27th: Wedding
• Sunday, Oct 28th: I'm dropping them off @ the airport 4 their honeymoon (the honeymoon is not @ the airport o! They're just catching their flight there... ehen)
• Nov 2nd: "work" project is due
• November 3rd: Baby shower for a mutual friend
• Nov 11th: Thanksgiving service 4 Busola & Hubby
• Nov. 17th: Bridal shower for a wonderful friend
• Nov 22nd: Thanksgiving Day - back 2 Busola's house 4 Thanksgiving dinner
• Nov. 23rd: Leaving for New York for a friend's wedding. Be back Sunday, Nov 25th

That's all I can think of so far, but if I think a little deeper, I'll probably remember some other function. Hmmmmph

Oh, and I'm sorry about my template o! I no know which kin insult this one be. I will fix it once I get a little time to myself. This thing tire me o! And don't even remind me about how much I have spent. I'm literally afraid of checking my balance. I just might pass out!

P.S. We threw Busola a surprise party on Sunday (Oct 14th) and it went grrreeeaat! We got her good. I will put pictures sometime.

Once again, I'm really, really, really sorry

I Really Cannot Think Of A Subject

First of all, my sincere apologies go out to Noni Moss for making her like me and then having the effontry to not update. Imagine the likeness! What insolence! Ehm, Noni, please forgive me. It is the devil oh! But as we all know, the devil is a liar! Once again, he has failed. That being said, here is your verastic update.



I’m seriously starting to reconsider this my Wednesday update thingy. This is because sometimes I have something to blog about before Wednesday, but I have 2 wait till Wednesday, and by the time Wednesday comes, I have lost the zeal to blog about it; other times, I don’t have much 2 blog about on Wednesday, but I have 2 force myself because it is Wednesday. I think I will just go back to freestyling and blogging as the spirit moves me. I’m just gonna blog when I have something interesting 2 blog about, so do check back often.



On Saturday (Aug 11th), I attended NaijaFest with my friends, Busola, Funmi, Uju, and Ibukun. That yeye Chief was there too, and guess who I finally met? Cherub. She even introduced me to her boyfriend. (Ok, I just checked out Cherub’s page & found something out: she now lives in B’more?! When?! Obviously I have been missing out LOL.) Back 2 NaijaFest…I could not stay to the end because Uju and I had another party 2 attend. A mutual friend of our mothers was celebrating her 25th wedding anniversary in a big way, and we were ushers. We thought it was gonna be a small thing, but the woman said we should wear a huge gele. Here is a picture of Uju & her gele. Due 2 the anonymity of my face (yes, my face is anonymous in spite of what u may think!), I am unable 2 put pix of myself up (but if you already know what I look like – without my permission, then erase that memory from ur head!). Funmi, Busola & Timbo came 4 the party too. Busola was looking hot as usual; when will she realize that I can never marry her? Anyway…



Uju and I picked soooo much $$. It is a mystery that no1 stepped on and broke my fingers in the process of picking money. Let’s not even mention all the attitude I was getting from people who wanted me 2 change money 4 them in spite of the fact that we (Uju & I) were given specific instructions not 2 do so (because there were people @ the table that were designated to do so; they already had change ready...but you know Naija people never wanna wait their turns). Married men were committing adultery of the mind all over the place, and their wives were committing homicide of the mind. Why were they rolling their eyes at us (young, unmarried gals)? Look @ the men sef… *hiss*. Anyway, that is an issue I will write about in detail l8r. Busola & I went outside and two blokes approached us – what nerve! The one that approached me was about my height (5’ 5”) and dressed like a joke. Oh, he was also smoking, had alcohol all over his breathe, & was obviously not himself…I hope.


P*****: My name is P*****. But my friends call me Dutch or Prince. What is your name? (Actually, he pronounced it as ‘nem’)
Me: Vera.
P******: Vera? What kind of name is that? Are you Nigerian?
Me: Yes.
P******: And your name is Vera?
Me: Yes.
P******: Where are you from in Nigeria?
Me: Anambra.
P******: Oh, I know Anambra! It’s close to Onitsha, right?
Me: (amused): Onitsha is inside Anambra.
P******: Oh, ok. So what does Vera mean?
Me: Faithful.
P******: Oh, that’s nice. I like it. So can I call you sometime, Vera?
Me: No. I have a bf.
P******: Oh! That is a slap on the face. Well, let me give you my number just in case anything happens with your bf.



Whether I have a bf or not is not an issue here @ all because my response would have been the same regardless of my status. You know what the real issue is? This event happened in Baltimore. I am blogging with my real name. I told him my real name. And it is gonna be pretty funny if he ever gets 2 read this. But then again, it might not be funny. Perhaps, next time, I should give a different name? Anyway…that was my Saturday.

Back in the hall, Uju and I were dancing and he (P*****) came up 2 me and said, “Excuse me dance.” I almost fell out laughing. I don’t know what was funnier: that he said ‘excuse me dance’ (I mean, seriously, this is 2007…who says that?) or the fact that his Igbo accent made it sound “escooz me dans.” LOL. I have seen things oh! And that yeye Uju just left me and walked away.

On Sunday, I went back for the 2nd day of NaijaFest – not because I cared 4 it, but because the publisher of Kitu Kizuri Magazine was around, and I had 2 go. Wish I could put up the pictures we took...but remember how I am anonymous? Sunday was not as eventful as Saturday, although there was this couple bumping and grinding to the Congolese band that was performing. This was in broad daylight and there were kids there. I mean, common! It was not even cute! Because I left NaijaFest early yesterday, I missed the per4mances of ElDee & Banky, but I heard they were really good though. Oh well, next time I guess. Banky sounds very good. I hope God opens mad doors 4 him. Amen.

Every Woman is coming along…whew! It’s exhausting, but it’s coming along. I just want 2 finish already! I'm done with Jazz, almost done with Moremi. After that, I'll be moving along to Ebele. Thanks 2 all those that read & commented on When I Became A Woman. Thank you!!! As soon as I publish this post, I'm gonna go finish writing about Moremi, then I'll take a lil break...do a few blog rounds and go write about Ebele. I wonder if I can start & finish Ebele today?? Hmmm. Hopefully, I can. We'll see.


Oh, and does any1 know how I can stop my snapvine from playing automatically when you visit my page? Snapvine people don dey vex me o! *HISS*

The Only Way To Go Is Up

I just took a break from Every Woman to update this blog. I am sleepy and grumpy. Sleepy because I did not take a nap this afternoon, and grumpy because this chapter is more difficult than I care for. In some chapters, the words just flow so easily that I do not wanna stop, and in other chapters, I cannot wait to finish. In this cycle (there are five chapters in a cycle as u know), Ebele is gonna be my most interesting character to write about, but currently, I am still on Jazz, so I still have to get thru Moremi. Whew!


The past two weeks have been something else! What does not kill you only makes you stronger. I do not wish to go into details about any of the events that have tumbled my life lately - however painful - but I don't mind disclosing that I have been suffering from stomach virus for the past week. If you have never had it, then thank God for that. I have been having serious stomach pain & throwing up everything I eat. The annoying thing is that I have not been able to eat well because of the pain, but then I also develop hunger pains because I don't eat well. However, you know what happens when I eat, right? Yeap. I still get stomach cramps and I throw the food up anyway. But I'm all better now. It's not completely gone, but I am certainly better.


My friends (Funmi, Busola, & Tim) came by to keep me company yesterday. They're such darlings. My aunt bought me juice and grapes. Mom cooked me pepper soup and bought me ice cream. Sola brought me some stew. Funmi bought me yogurt, peaches, and croissants, and Tim ate everything (Bless her heart). With all the TLC I have been getting, I'm starting to think that falling sick isn't such a bad idea! Now all I need is for Robin Thicke to come and whisk me away to some island and sing sweet nothings in my ears. I most certainly wouldn't mind that.

You know, change is the only constant thing in life. Sometimes we accept certain living situations, thinking it is the best because we are afraid of what we do not know. Sometimes, we think we have the best. But then change happenes. Sometimes it really hurts. Sometimes it breaks our hearts into a million little pieces. Sometimes, we think it is so unfair. Sometimes it feels like even God has turned his back on us. But then He surprises us. He gives us something bigger and better than what we had and what we ever dreamt of having. And then we realize that it is not all bad. In fact, it isn't bad at all. Life is always going to be full of challenges. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel. So at your lowest of all lows, remember that the only way to go is. It cannot get worse. It may seem like it, but it isn't. It can't and it won't. I'm sorry; I know I'm babbling. I guess I woke up on the right side of the bed. Gee, can't wait to see what God has got in store for me. This is gonna be exciting!


I have been reading this book for the past three days, and it is amazing!!! I would recommend it to anyone who really wants to read a book that is uhm...what's the word? This book is so good that it was the bestselling book in the WORLD for 2003, 2004, and 2005. Woah!!! If that is not the work of God, tell me what is. It's a forty day devotional book that starts by telling you that your life is not about you; it is about God. Ain't that something?

For those of you that did not know, Boorish has replied the previous post. You can check the comment section for his reply.

And last but not least, please read my latest article, When I Became A Woman, and tell me what you think. Pretty please. I promise I'll give you a wet kiss if you do.

Where On Earth Is Boorish?

UPDATE:

• Boorish has replied the post. Check the comments for his reply.
• Also read my my newest article, When I Became A Woman...& don't forget to leave a comment.

I was gone for only a few days (ok, maybe a few weeks) and chaos took hold of Blogville. What is this I hear about Boorish not blogging anymore? I am still unclear of what happened....or why it happened, but I do have to say that I am very disappointed.

Why can't people read a post, leave a comment and move the heck on? There is no blogger who actually spills all the beans about their life. Even the alleged anonymous bloggers still keep some things 2 themselves, so why all negative comments? Bloggers have been forced to put up comment moderation and reject anonymous comments because a few anonymous commenters have decided to say all kinds of ish. And you know what, I could swear that most of the anonymous commenters are bloggers themselves! They just do not have the balls to say what is on their mind.

I don't know why Boorish blogs (or why he used 2 blog), but for me, I started blogging as a fun thing. When I started it, I was not even aware of any other Nigerian blogger. I just blogged. I did not have any comments, but it did not matter. I was basically entertaining myself. But now that NaijaBlogville is popular, people have been behaving badly. I personally do not care to receive any ignorant comment on my blog; if it bothers you so much, give me a call and state your actual name - or else, please forever hold your peace.

I have not read Waffarian's gist about the guy who hurt her because I have been gone for too long, and that is just too much reading for me to catch up to, but one thing puzzles me though, why or how did people get the idea that it was Boorish?? And why did said people decide to ride the fence?? I mean, why accuse him of being the one and then go back to tell him not to worry? Do y'll not know about the power of technology AKA the internet??? Anyway, I need not mention any names; you know yourselves.

But Boorish, don't leave ur blog for such foolishness. I am not gonna acknowledge your blogbituary because you shall rise from the dead, lol. Seriously, come back!!!

And since you're not receiving comments on your blog, this is me BEGGIN' you to come back. Ladies & Gents of Blogville, please help me beg Boorish to come back o!

The Issue Of god-parenting...

First of all, I’m soooo glad to be back! Second of all, I cannot thank God enough for that evil class being over…whew! Finally, I missed you all!!

As you all know, my love, Busola is getting married in three months time. And I’m pretty sure I have filled you in on the most important part of the day: I am the maid of honor! I plan on cascading down the steps of the banquet hall in a cat-like gracefulness…that’s of course, if they have steps. If they do not have steps, I guess I could just kinda walk in on air. Either way, I’ll be the envy of every woman (including the bride) and the desire of every man – including the groom. But that’s by the way. Sure, some of you might argue that this day is about Busola, the bride, but what do you know anyway?

After the wedding come the kids, right? It is for this reason that I, the first self-appointed maid of honor in history have also self-appointed myself as the god-mother to Busola’s unborn daughter (no, she is not yet pregnant, but I am just making future plans). It is imperative to note that Busola has promised to name her first daughter after me … how sweet, right? Well, it is sweet, but frankly, I am not satisfied. Why stop at giving the child my first name? Why not also give her my last name, Ezimora? I have not run the idea by Busola, but I already know her answer, “Vera, you are high!”

Another issue about this whole god-parenting thing worries me: what if the second daughter turns out to be cuter that the first daughter? As the smart genius that I am, I have made the best proposal ever to Busola: if the second daughter turns out to be prettier than the first daughter (my future god-daughter), I will return the first daughter for an even exchange of the second daughter? Since both kids would both be from the same parents (unless Busola plans on getting pregnant for another man while married to her husband *coughs*), they (the kids) are worth the same. Therefore, I should not be denied the right and opportunity to exchange the child at any given point in time. Busola’s failure to let me do so would result in her being sued to court for ‘refusal to have child exchanged’. So far, Busola’s response to this proposal has been, “Vera, you are high!” and “Can I get pregnant first?”

So my people, tell me, where have I gone wrong? As a future totally-hot, totally-cool god-mother, do I not owe it to myself to ‘acquire’ the best child I can? Keep in mind that even though I have self-appointed myself as the future god-mother, I am really doing Busola a favor because soooo many people are knocking my door down to get me as a god-mother, but I turned them all away for Busola. Sure, you might not know who these people are (even I, do not know who they are…yet), but does that mean they do not exist?

Well, I believe I have come to the end of my rant. When you’re leaving a comment, please encourage Busola to let me have my way. You can call it a petition, if you please. Just convince her that I am right and she is wrong!

Oh, and did I mention how good it is to be back???

I'm On My Way...

Myspace Countdown Clocks at WishAFriend.com