The African Women Are Here

Well, not yet, but almost.

In case you haven't heard, I and eight wonderful female bloggers now run a collaborative blog. It's called The African Women. What better name for all nine of us - Me, Shona Vixen, Temite, Afrobabe, Tigeress, Ms. Sula, Buttercup, WordSmith, and Good Naija Girl? We will be discussing things as it relates to us - African women (and men, of course). Rumor has it that there is even a post coming up about married women and oral sex. Before you start protesting, I am not the one who is responsible for it this time. You'll just have to watch and see.

Oh, I know what you're wondering, "What is the nice, sweet, innocent Vera doing with these deviant people?" What can I say? I'm someone who tries to be friends with everyone - yes, even people like Afrobabe. LOL. I have been made to understand that she is dangerously in love with me, and my presence turns her on, but I will try as much as possible to stop that from happening. Although, I must admit it will be an uphill climb seeing as she's so undeniably hot for me. But anyway...

There is just one twist here. I will be losing a bit of my anonymity *sigh* No, I won't be showing my face. I will, however, be doing audio posts. Writing posts for Verastic Dot Com is strenuous enough, so I will not be taking up anymore writing commitments. Instead, I will do something I've always wanted to do: audio posts!! I'll probably introduce audio posts here some time in the future.  Considering Original Mgbeke's comment, I should stress that I will not be speaking any phonetics, biko!  I am very, very, VERY Nigerian ooo.  There will be no smii-smii or sumpidi sumpidi sumpidi (sound effects of phonetics) coming from me, so biko, expect a very Naija babe oh.  Mgbeke, mind ya sef!

My Verastic voice will debut on Saturday, April 18th. I'm supposed to be talking about something related to women...obviously. As I type this right now, I haven't got a clue what I will be talking about. If you're thinking about suggesting oral sex, then I'll have to say, "No, thanks!" I am now known as the oral sex girl. For someone who isn't getting any, I have to say I'm getting a lot of publicity on this issue. It's all good. No publicity is bad publicity, right? Well, I sure do hope so. But something tells me my mother will faint if she visits this blog. And if my Deeper Life aunt visits it... oh boy! Forgerrabourrit. Anyway, back to the issue... I don't know what to talk about. Ideas are welcome.

Speaking of ideas, The African Women (Yes, all nine of us) will be taking questions from you, so please, feel free to send your questions - anonymously even, if you want. The email is theafricanwomen@googlegroups.com I doubt if all nine of us will answer each question. Perhaps, we'll pick and choose which question(s) to answer... unless you want a particular blogger to answer it. Example, if you want WordSmith to answer your question, please specify. Perhaps, you could put "Attention WordSmith" in the subject?

Let me make a few clarifications:

1. No, The African Women blog is not made of "predominantly single agony aunties" as Roc Naija said. By the way, Roc... I hope you have received the very hot slap I packaged to you via express mail? lol

...Okay, so it was just one clarification. Well, whatever.

Anyway, see you on Monday. I'll have an interesting post coming up. Well, I hope you find it interesting. In the mean time, don't forget to give me ideas on what to talk about... or else... I won't be talking. Oh, and if you don't like my voice, keep it to yourself. lol. See ya!

** Don't forget to give me ideas for my audio post. You can leave a comment here or send me a private mail - vera@verastic.com

** Please pray that I don't burn the pot of Egusi soup on fire. Sleep is kind of catching me. History has shown that I burn food when I'm sleepy... or blogging.

The African Women - http://theafricanwomen.blogspot.com Blog roll us...and your life will never be the same. A trial will convince you. :-) LOL.

God, this sleep is too much. Get thee behind me, satan!  I shall not fall asleep.  I must stay awake to proclaim the goodness of my unburnt soup.

***Update***

The soup is well, alive... and obviously not burnt.  Shall we dine?

Let's Talk About [Oral] Sex

I can just see the excitement on everyone's face.  You sex-deprived lot!  Consider this post a rejoinder to my post, Bless Me Father For I Have Kissed.  Now, in case no one noticed, the operative word in the title of that post was KISSED.  As in, we were supposed to be talking about the critical issue at hand aka my predicament: the taboo in kissing before marriage.  

I happened to mention (in one tiny little sentence) that it was also mentioned during the dinner/conference that oral sex between married couples is a sin.  Just because of that small sentence, everyone abandoned the issue @ hand (my predicament) to talk about why they must have oral sex when married...come rain, come shine.  Even Banky W commented.  Rumor has it that he was right in the middle of a concert when he heard Verastic Dot Com published a post saying that having oral sex with his future wife was a sin, so he quickly stopped the concert to come & comment.  Okay, I lie.  I am the sole starter and spreader of this rumor.   But it could have been true... no?

After eighty-seven comments, five truths have sufficed: 

1.  Una too love oral sex (you love oral sex too much)!!  

2.  You will all have first-class tickets to hell.

3.  You will be at the honeymoon suite in the penthouse of hell.

4.  I'm not going with you.

5.  I'm really, really, REALLY not going with you.

So a lot of people asked where it says in the bible that oral sex between married couples is perversion.  I have looked through the bible, and of course, I cannot find the following exact words (if that is what you are looking for):

"Thou shalt not suck on your neighbor's penis."  OR "Thou shalt not lick your neighbor's vagina."  No, those words are not there exactly.  However, the following words are there:

**  "Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable." (Lev 18:22)

**  "Do not have sexual relations with an animal and defile yourself with it.  A woman must not present herself to an animal to have sexual relations with it; that is a perversion." (Lev 18: 23)

**  "Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery..." (Romans 13:13)

** The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambiton, dissensions, factions of envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like..." (Galatians 5: 19-21)

These words are not mine obviously.  They are from my bible (Women of Faith Study Bible.  NIV).  ADifferentNaijaSpec, I hope these bible quotations have answered your question about what is considered a sin.  Direct any further questions to God.  LOL.  

Nice Anon asked, "Is feeling for the size of the thing considered or can it be counted as kissing too?  I ask because no one wants to end up with an Asian sized thing.  You know they are known for having peanut sized thing."

Ehm... Madam Nice Anon, I will go ahead and make an educated guess here: God will not approve of any feeling for the size of "the thing" before marriage.  LOL.  I might be wrong oh, but something just tells me there is no way to explain that to God.  Besides, how many Asian "things" does it take to prove your hypothesis?  Plenty!  So how many have you felt?  If your answer is "at least half of the Asian population," I'll give you my advise: stay away from the Asian men.  Ha ogodo nwoke aka ka ogodo nwoke ha gi (Leave men's trousers alone so that men's trousers will leave you) .... so says my mom.... and no, not to me!  That is what she used to tell our help, Nkechi.... right before Nkechi got pregnant.  It is safe to assume that Nkechi didn't listen, but anyway...

Per the comments I'm receiving, lemme clarify something up: The reason why "orgies" is in bold is because I mentioned it as a sin in my other post.  I put it in bold here as reinforcement.  The relationship between oral sex and animals?  Well, technically none.  But the conference I attended considers oral sex as perversion while the bible considers sex with animals as perversion.  It might help to read the first post, Bless Me Father For I Have Kissed.  Now that we have tackled this oral sex problem, can we get back to the issue of my kissing or lack-of-kissing  palaver?

P.S. For those that want to know who I have been kissing... send me a Range Rover Sport and we can talk.  But the most important thing is that My Kisser would prefer to be addressed as My Kisser (not my Kissee as someone/some people called him) because he initiated the kiss.  Hey, I'm just the messenger here.  *wink*  If you need clarification, direct your questions to him.  I'll be sure he gets them.

Your thoughts?

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Today is my daddy's birthday.

I want to type a long poetic, literary post, full of twists and turns, full of enigmatic sentences that have conspicuous meanings.  What an oxymoron, I know.  I want to write an epistle about my daddy and talk about how he is a tall Iroko tree in the forest, but you see, daddy isn't tall.... or slender.  He's about 5'10, I suppose.  And he has a belly that has been pregnant for as long as I can remember.  Rumor (aka my mother) has it that the pregnancy is as a result of the bottles of Gulder he used to down.  Who knows really?  Daddy swears he doesn't have a big tummy.  He must see Will Smith's abs when he looks @ himself in the mirror.  But who am I to judge?

I haven't said happy birthday to him yet, but when I do, I know how the conversation will go.  It's the same thing each year.

 

Me: Happy birthday, dad!

 

Dad: *Surprised* Oh, nne, you're right oo!  Today is April 4th.  I almost forgot.

 

Me: You didn't almost forget.  You forgot.

 

Dad: Well...

 

Me: Well, nothing.  Happy birthday.  (I'd like to seal it with a kiss on his shiny head, a place where hair once used to reside.  It is now smoother than his face, and there is no evidence (other than old pictures) that hair once grew there.  No evidence that that once used to be a fertile ground.  Oh, baldness, what have you done to my daddy?  On the positive side, when the sun shines on that part of his head, it beams.  You should see it after I rub vaseline on it.  It's as clear as a mirror, I tell you.)

 

Yeap.  That's pretty much how the conversation will go.  He forgets his birthday every year.  I don't know what kind of person forgets his own birthday.  I look very much like my dad, and in some ways we are alike, but when it comes to birthdays and dates in general, we couldn't be more different.  I take my birthday very seriously; how can I ever forget January 14th?  I am even thinking about how to make January 14th a global holiday.  Apart from January 14th, I spend every other day of the year thinking about January 14th.  But this post shouldn't be about me...

So here's to wishing my daddy - father of Vera & husband of Mama Vera - a very, very happy birthday.

* Sometimes I think my father chose the wrong profession (medicine); maybe he should have been a comedian instead.  He really is a very funny man.  Besides, being a comedian would have saved my butt countless unwaranted and unwanted injections.  Yes, I may have been ill, but I would have gladly swallowed - even chewed - a carton of pills before taking one injection.

* My daddy, the one and only Ogbuefi Nnanyelugo of my life.  Per the title, funny enough, he's never killed a cow oo... at least none that I know of.  I remember plenty of goats - especially that one goat that escaped from my compound.  Dad was really vexed.  We were supposed to use that goat for Easter.  But who can blame the goat?  I'd have run too if I were him.  Funniest part was when we went to the nearby market to look for the goat.  Of course, it wasn't hard spotting our brown goat - amongst thousands of other brown goats.  Dad tried to guess our goat by looking at the eyes of the goats in the market.  Apparently, our goat would have recognized him; it would have been obvious in the goat's eyes.  Yeah, sure!  Needless to say, we went without a goat that Easter.  That was his punishment to us for losing his goat.  I couldn't have cared less.  I hated goat meat.

* My father, the man who farts out loud and forces us to hail him, "Ogbuefi Nnanyelugo!!"  The loudness of the fart wasn't even the problem for me; it could have been confused as the sound effect of a loud pot of boiling soup (some loud soup it woulda been though).  The problem was the stench of the fart.  I don't know what that man ate, but it was doing him something wicked.

* My father, the man who gets confused when he's talking to his employees and speaks all the languages in one sentence: English, Igbo, Hausa, & Russian.  The look on the employee's face is always priceless.

* My father, the man who ruined my chance to go home for one weekend when I was in boarding school.  I told him to come and talk to my Principal, a very strict Reverend Sister.  Dad was supposed to be meek and friendly.  Instead, when Sister Mary Patrick hinted hesitation in letting me leave for the weekend, dad told her she was very pompous and that it wasn't a very good look on a woman.  I obviously never did get to go home that weekend.

* My father, the man who comes home on Saturday night, heads straight for the kitchen, steals a big piece of meat, goes back to the bedroom, eats it and hides the bones under the bed.  When asked if he ate a piece of meat, he denies it squarly.  Never mind the obvious shiny lips he has and even the drop of oil stain on his shirt.  Pray, do tell, where did the oil come from?  It's a wonder we never had rats - considering all the meat bones that were under the bed.

* My father, the man who proudly sucked his mother's breast until she died.  She died after I was born, so she wasn't young.  He must have been sucking powdered milk.  If one needs a 'human subject" to study for the "effects of sucking mother's breast till she becomes a grandmother," I think my daddy would be a perfect candidate.

* My father, the only man I know of who puts his bread & egg in the freezer because it's too hot.  How hot can bread be?

Oh, happy birthday, daddy!!  May God continue to keep you alive and well.  May you never lose your sense of humor.   May you change from your mischievous ways of making us smell your fart.  Seriously... so not cool.  May you continue to be you (yes, I realize it means you'll continue farting for our inhaling pleasure).  Yippee ... aren't we lucky?  *rolling eyes*

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?

What Happens When...

...you're boiling eggs and you let the water dry out?

Apparently, the eggs explode!

Now, before you go judging me, I was not the one who put the eggs on fire; my mother did - although she did tell me to watch over them. But in my defense, she obviously put too little water because it was barely five minutes after she told me to watch them that the eggs exploded. Alright, fine. The truth is that it was about thirty forty-five minutes after she told me to watch them that the eggs exploded... and I forgot because I was *drumroll* blogging. *sigh*


But let's look @ the bright side. I have discovered something new: pesin fit use boiled egg do explosive oo! (Boiled eggs can be used as explosives).


Now, I'm wondering if I should have typed the word, "explosives" on my blog (and then dared to make it bold & italic). Hmmmph! If I don't update after today, please know that the Pentagon people have gotten me and locked me up in Guantanamo Bay. Oh, wait... my brother is now in power. Shoot, wetin I dey fear?! (What am I afraid of?!)

P.S. I keep forgeting to tell you about my new article, Facebook - The 9th Planet. Check it out, please. Click HERE.

In Preparation For Marriage....

"It will be a very big shame for you to get married to an Igbo man and not know how to cook onugbu (bitterleaf) soup."

- Spoken by Vera Ezimora's mom on Friday, March 20th 2009 10:41 PM

You know, sometimes, I just don't understand my mother. When and where did she see an engagement ring on my finger? To my recollection, I have not told her that any man - let alone an Igbo one - is seeking my hand in marriage. She has not told me that any Igbo man has come to pluck the ripe flower in our garden either - unless they (mom, dad & the Igbo man) are planning to give me a surprise wedding. So where did mom come off telling me it will be a shame to get married to an Igbo man without knowing how to cook onugbu (bitterleaf) soup??? Alright, I'll explain.

Prior to that verbal assault you read up there, I did not know how to cook onugbu (bitterleaf) soup. I was curious enough to ask mom to teach me. Remember that I said I asked her. She did not tell me I had to learn it. I
asked
begged her on my own to show me. We have been attempting to do this mother-daughter cooking for the longest time - I'm talking years now - but you know how time is exactly what we don't have enough of. Finally, we agreed to do it on Thursday (March 19th), but mom was too tired. I guess that meant it was automatically postponed to Friday, March 20th, but I didn't know. So off I went to hang out with Funmi #1 and Funmi #2 (Yes, there are two Funmis, but Funmi #1 is the one who comments on my blog).

I decided to call mom at 10:41 PM to check up on her... as per good daughter and all, and that verbal assault up there was what I heard. And after speaking, she hung up on me ooo! LOL. Couldn't stop laughing walahi. I finally got home more than an hour later to realize the woman had not even started cooking the soup - even though prior to hanging up she said, "Don't worry, I'm cooking my soup myself" ... you know one of those things they say to make you feel guilty. Anyway, I ended up joining her in cooking.

I was required to
wash
scrub the bitterleaves till they were no more bitter. I wanted to wear my rubber gloves because I didn't want the finger nails I had been growing to turn green after washing the leaves, but I was chastised by my mom, "How can you wear gloves to wash what someone will eat?" After two minutes of washing, I became tired, but I had to keep going; apparently, the leaves were still bitter. By the end of it, I came to one conclusion: I must have a house-help! I am not cut out for this. I refuse to bend over the sink to wash bitterleaves. My mom laughed @ me. She asked, "So you'll have a house help as soon as you enter your husband's house?" I said, "Yeap. She'll be my hand luggage."

Mom: What if your house help is not Igbo? Or what if your house help is not a female?

Me: I don't even want a female anyway. Too many house-girl/husband casualties. But if he/she isn't Igbo, he/she will be trained on how to wash bitterleaves.

Mom: Who will train them?

Me: Obviously not me.

Mom: *Shaking head.* You're not serious.

Me: Very serious, mom.

Soooo after about an hour in the hot kitchen, a pot of yummy onugbu soup emerged. It is safe to say that I am now ready to be given away to an Igbo man. I took pictures to show you my soup. Oh, but you know what my mom said after we finished cooking? She said, "You know you didn't learn anything. All you did was walk around here and take pictures; we have to do this again." Lai lai! We don't have to do anything again. I have learnt. I'm good.

The bitterleaves I was washing...


After I washed them...


You know what that is? Blended cocoayam. It makes the soup thicker. In Naija, we woulda pounded it, but as per Yankee, we had to blend it instead.

"Assorted meat" but no "roundabouts" lol

Stockfish

Ogili (stinky Igbo spice. It stinks! But darn it, it makes the food yummy)

Voila... the result!

Dear Igbo man, I am now ripe to become your wife. When is the wedding gonna be??? :-)

Bless Me Father, For I Have Kissed...

... My last kiss was ---- well, let's leave that alone. There is no need to put that on here now, is there? You and I both know the answer. Let's leave it between me, You, and him.

A while ago, I attended a Singles' Dinner/Conference in church. Funmi was there. Ibukun was there. Even three year old Ireti was there. She's single too, you know. The event was really nice, and I was glad I went. They (the married folks) advised us (the single folks) on how to live the godly single life. Some of the things they told us, I already knew... like sex before marriage is fornication. When a married person has sex with someone other than his/her spouse, that is adultery. All kinds of sex before marriage is a sin. Yes, so whether you engage in vaginal, oral, anal, or whatever other orifice (nose, ears, etc), it is still all sex... and still all fornication. I was not surpised about that. Afrobabe, Shona Vixen, Ibiluv, Roc Naija, Ms Sula, and Word Merchant ... sebi una dey hear me so?

But eventually, I became very surprised by some of the things I heard. Apparently, oral sex between married couples is also a sin. Honestly, I didn't know that. I thought it was okay. But apparently, it's perversion. They said it's unnatural sex. I don't know what to make of this news. I'm not going to tell you otherwise because I would not want to mislead you against the word of God. The truth of the matter is that I am still very confused. For some reason, I was under the impression that it was okay for married couples to have oral sex.

But it gets worse. Before marriage, I am not allowed to do several other things. They are "kissing, necking, smooching, caressing... and even fantasizing." Haba!!! Body no be firewood na! What am I supposed to do when I have a fiance? Shoot, forget fiance. What am I supposed to do when I have a boyfriend? Shake hands??? Oh, and hugging is not recommended either. It's not a sin, but it's not recommended because it can lead to the temptation of kissing, necking, caressing, smooching.... and heavens forbid.... fantasizing!!! And once you fall into the temptation of kissing (or any other of the abominable acts), you may very well fall into bed and indulge in a form of sex. In case you're wondering, the following are also all sins: masturbation, hand job, fingering, and the weird thing where you cocoon the man's member between your breasts. Of course, 3somes and orgies are major sins! Now, that's perversion.

What to do... what to do. I have kissed. And lemme not lie, the kiss was baaaaaad! Bad as in when-can-I-get-the-next-installment kind of bad. Yes, it was that good. But now, they said I'm not allowed to kiss anymore. I'm not even allowed to think about the kiss. Oturugbeke! This is an outrage! I need my attorney (Luscious Ron) to do something about this immediately. Perhaps, we could appeal to God? If only God were to taste this kiss that I'm referring to, He too will understand that resisting this kiss is impossicant.

Okay, even if I manage to resist the kiss, how do I resist the thought of fantasizing about the kiss? Hmmmm. This must be the ploy of my enemies to get me to stop kissing, but they have failed. They want me to stop kissing, so they can start kissing my kisser abi? **laughing in Igbo** It will not work for them @ alllll. I must get to the bottom of this no-kiss rule. How can I stay in the same room with the kisser and not be kissed? In fact, how can we coexist on the same earth and not kiss? Our lips are magnetic. I almost cannot help it, so technically it's not even my fault. I think I need to go and explain this to the Pastor.

But in the meantime inbetween time, I need my dear attorney at law, Luscious Ron to start preparing an appeal document to our Father in Heaven. He should please understand me.... ehn. Dear God, please let me have this one little small sin.

Do You Like Men?

Him: Are you married?

Me: No.

Him: So you're single?

Me: Yeah.

Him: Are you into men?

Me: What...?!

Him: Do you like men?

Me: Excuse me?

Him: I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you... I was just... I just didn't wanna come out straight and ask if you are straight. I mean you look straight...

Me: I have a boyfriend (do not question me about the veracity of this statement; thank you very much!)

Him: Oh. So you're seeing someone then?

Me: Yes.

Him: You're a very pretty lady. Again, I apologize if I offended you.

See me see wahala ooo! I still don't know what this guy was attempting to do: flirt with me? Strike up a conversation? Satisfy his curiosity? Dumbfound me? Well, he sure did dumbfound me, and not in a good way.

This is how you know the world don kpafuka finish (is spoilt). Whatever happened to the good ol' days when you just approached someone and flirted with him/her or asked him/her out? Now, you have to wonder if the person is into men, women, both, neither, or possibly animals sef. Mama mia! I have never, ever been asked if I was into men. What do people who are into men look like? I mean, he said I look like I'm into men, so what do women who are into men look like?

It was funny the way he started stammering. I guess he read the look on my face. I know he did not mean any harm by the question, but is there really any way to ask, "are you into men?" without being offensive? That's almost as bad as rubbing a woman's tummy and asking her when she's due, only to find out she's not even pregnant. How pesin go fit remove for dat kin situation (how does one escape that kind of situation)?

Anyhoo, I have no other choice than to be into men. Let's face it: you women are just toooooo much to handle. You bleed and PMS once a month (sometimes twice), you never have enough shoes, bags, and clothes, you are too sensitive, you are overly dramatic, you think too much about everything and over analyze every situation, you always think you are fat, you always think someone is talking about you, you're so darn petty, you read between non existent lines, you don't seem to know what you want in a man until you have your heart broken a few times, you talk too much (shut the heck up!), you listen to Beyonce and Oprah way too much ... sheesh the list goes on.

So yeah, come on boys ... you're just what the doctor ordered. :-)

P.S. Thanks to all those who voted for me in the Naija Bloggers Awards competition. I was nominated in five categories, and I walked away with two awards. Thanks!!! To all those who didn't vote for me... in your face... ha!!! LOL. Now, voting has begun for Category B, so biko, go and vote for ya gal! I was nominated in 5 categories. I will put up an acceptance speech when the whole thing is over. Why not, if not?

Oh, What Da Heck! I'll Indulge You!!

Why be normal when you can be Verastic?? And that's a serious question by the way.

I told you about the wonderful Verastic ideas I have for my bridesmaids, and Lolo Bloggs couldn't help but ask what plans I have for myself as the bride, so Lolo Bloggs, this post is especially for you. Yes, I realize other people asked too, but Lolo Bloggs asked first. Listed below are a few ideas for my wedding; they will be implemented from the time of my engagement to the wedding. Some might call these plans drastic, but I prefer to call them Verastic.

1. My fiance will propose to me every month after the initial proposal - just to reinforce that he wants to marry me. And no, he does not need to buy a new ring for each proposal - unless he wants to, of course.

2. My friends must throw me a surprise bridal shower every month. This is because I don't think one bridal shower will be enough for everyone and all the gifts I intend to receive.

3. My husband and I will renew our vows every year, and we will have a big reception. This will be to remind ourselves (and others) that we are married. Of course, each renewal will preceed a huge compulsory asoebi party and a bomb-diggitified honeymoon where we will procreate till --- whenever.

4. For my first wedding, I cannot have it in only one location because not everyone will be able to make it there. I'll have it in Yankee, in London, in Naija, and in Iraq (for our soldiers at war; I wouldn't want them to miss this golden opportunity).

5. My husband and I will go on three honeymoons. A pre-wedding honeymoon, a wedding honeymoon, and a post wedding honeymoon.

6. In other to include everyone in our wedding, my husband and I will have almost all types of weddings. I said almost. We will have a court wedding, a Christian (white) wedding, a traditional wedding, an Islamic wedding, a Jewish wedding, a Hindu wedding, Sikh wedding (is there any such thing?), a Budahist wedding, and any other kind we can think of.

7. Between the wedding (in church) and the reception, my husband and I will be secluded in a locked room for some private talking time. We may not do much talking, but we sure will have some private time. Hmmmm.... wonder what we will be doing. Ideas, anyone???

8. Considering all the money we'll be spending on our wedding, it is only fair that we try to cut the costs a bit. We'll tell our guests to bring their own food and water, and we'll provide the cups & utensils - all disposable, of course.

9. If we do provide the water, we will not provide cups, and it will not be one bottle per guest. Instead, everyone must take a gulp from the bottle and pass the rest to his/her neighbor. There is joy in sharing, you know.

10. But just in case over-richness begins to worry my husband and I (AMEN!!!), we will provide each table @ the reception with one cow. Yes, I said each table will have a cow. Each table will have 8 guests, and they must finish that cow b4 they go home. No take away! Oh, of course, it will be cooked.

11. The beef will be served with a bag of rice. Yes, each table must eat one bag of rice. After which they will drink it down with a carton of beer. Each guest = a carton of beer. Failure to comply with the rules will result in panel beating by a panel beater.

That's it for now. As you can see, I don't ask for too much. I only ask that my wedding - like yours truly - be Verastic.

P.S. Does any1 have info about making graphic tees? I mean those tees with inscriptions on them. I need a lot of it, so that means wholesale price, please. The earlier you help me out, the earlier we will have this Verastic wedding. No, I'm not engaged, but like I always say...a gal can plan ahead, can't she?

**Vera thinking** Hmmm....what if all the guests wear a tee-shirt that says, "Some idiot invited me to her wedding and said I must share a cow with 7 other people..." Hehehehe. But on second thoughts, I don't know how I feel about 7, 500 people calling me an idiot on my wedding day.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I will be having 7, 500 guests?? Not a lot, is it?

Speaking Of Vacations...

Does anyone actually listen to all the instructions they give on the plane? I mean all that supposedly good stuff about emergencies and how to exit in the event of what…. a crash???? I don’t listen. While I was away on vacation – yes, the one I didn’t mention…hehe – the crew members gave us all these instructions about how to pull down the oxygen mask and where the exit door was. Abeg!

As a proper Naija girl, I was busy praying that the weather and plane should be perfect, and that God should pilot the plane safely back to Baltimore. We will not meet any birds along the sky that will make our plane to plummet downward into any river – Hudson or not – because frankly, I cannot swim to save my life. Although, of course, if I had to pick one, I’d rather crash on water (than on land). And if any birds were to come close to our plane, may holy ghost fire consume them and send them into the abyss. Or the bottomless pit – whichever one is closer and more permanent.

Soooo I went on a much needed vacation to a place where the sun shines and keeps its inhabitants warm. It was very different from Maryland where it was 25°F the morning I left. I was treated like royalty, I tell you. I ate some good food the whole time I was there; it kinda makes me feel like going back. I visited alligators and even carried a baby one. Maybe I should have adopted it and brought it back to my house. That should be enough to keep Funmie away from my house for a while. The alligators in this picture are very real, and no, that is not the size of the one I carried. Abeg ooo!

I had the fabulousest time of my life! I was served strawberries & apples every morning – not the kind that was cut by some woman wearing latex gloves. These strawberries & apples were washed and cut by the bestest hands ever. Just look @ them.... *batting eye lashes*

For the first time, I went kayaking. My partner and I almost fell into the water, and of course, it was all his fault. He might beg to differ, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. We kayaked to the middle of the ocean/beach; the water was so beautiful, and I could not help think, “Chineke God of heaven above… if I fall inside this ocean, what will become of me? I cannot swim. I don’t even know if I can float. Hopefully, this life jacket I’m wearing is in good working condition. But what if there are alligators in here? Or worse, sharks and/or crocs? Oh, God! Please blind them. Let them not see me … or my bright blue life jacket.” As it came to pass, my dear readers, they did not spot me. I made it out alive and with all my limbs & appendages.

I had apple pie for the first time. It was warm and had cold creamy vanilla ice cream on top of it. Yummy. I ate oxtail pepper soup with mixed vegetables. Still can’t get it off my mind. I ate lasagna for the first time too. Try as I might to pick out the finely chopped onions, I just couldn’t find them. Me thinks it was a conspiracy against me to get me to eat onions. But it was surprisingly yummy. Yesterday, I found myself thinking about it. I saw the movie Madea Goes To Jail. Good stuff. Couldn’t stop laughing. Watched several episodes of the old British comedy, Mind Your Language. Too funny! My kind of comedy.

There were a few highlights: the dough I traveled with finally got kneaded. Had been wondering how and where to get that done. They do the best kneading over there, I tell ya. I had some French whispered into my left ear. Yeah...you could say I had a fantabulous time. :-)

Soooo.... any idea who I went to see? Me neither. :)

I'll be back on Tuesday. Have you voted for me? If not, do so asap HERE. And if you have not yet nominated me for all the categories in Category B, then please get to it HERE. (It ends by midnight today....so hurry!). See ya Tuesday!

P.S. I'm totally willing to give all the details about my vacation .... for the price of one Pour Femme by Bvlgari.

P.P.S. Per Temite's request ... if I win all the Category A categories I was nominated in, I will post a full picture of myself. Walahi talahi ... so you berra start voting.

Breaking News...!

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Vacations End Wayyyyyyy Too Quickly!

Considering the amount of time that goes into planning a vacation - no matter how short - it is appalling that it ends so swiftly. Why does time fly by so fast when you're having fun? It's never the same thing when that teacher is talking about all the different ways to dissect the brain. I have barely traveled in the last few several years. I hope to make 2009 a traveling year. AMEN!!!

But when I get married - here she comes with her future marriage plans again! - my husband and I must travel to all places travelable. Of course, I can travel now, but I think the traveling will be a lot more fun if you have the opportunity of being naughty with someone @ odd times of the day and/or night. You know what I mean now! Don't make me say it; I'm shy. *blushing*

So when I get married, my husband and I might just wake up one morning and decide to go have breakfast in Germany, lunch in Peru, and dinner in India. The next day, we'll go bake ourselves under the Australian sun. We might even hunt a few crocodiles - just like Steve, the Crocodile Hunter used to do before his unfortunate demise. Then we'll go to Senegal - just to visit those huge flies I saw there several years ago. I wonder if their flies are still so huge. Another day, we'll go to Puerto Rico to look for J'Lo's people. When we find them, we'll wave to them and keep it moving.

We'll vacation to Leningrad, Russia - the land of my birth. We'll see if we can actually see Alaska. If we can, we might just ski dive into Alaska. That should be fun. We'll go to Italy to have real pizza. And I'll buy an expensive pair of shoes. We'll go to Israel to visit the garden of Eden. There, I will get down on my knee and feed my husband an apple. He will eat it and we will know the difference between good and evil. [I wonder if we'll get banned from returning to Israel if we get caught procreating under one of the trees. I guess we'll just have to find out]

We'll go to Nigeria to eat from one of those Mama Put joints. And we'll give her a big fat tip. We're gonna wash our own dishes and stand in line to wait for our food just like everyone else. That's all part of the fun. We'll go to Paris - the City of love & romance and we'll fall in love all over again....and of course, we'll 'romance' each other. He'll whisper sweet nothings in my ear in the language I wish I could speak - French.

Okay, enough of the imaginations. This has become a self-induced hypnosis. I'm finding it hard to snap out of it. Goodness, that French part was really good. So what was I saying anyway? Oh yeah, vacations end too quickly. I know this sounds like a random post. It sounds like I have no reason to be talking about vacations, but you know there is no smoke without fire. *wink*

P.S. Category B of the Naija Blogger Awards is up and running. Please go & vote (FOR ME!!!!) immediately. Click HERE to go to the Naija Blogger Awards blog. I woulda given the link directly to the voting site, but Geisha (even from her blogger grave....sebi she stopped blogging??) has been threatening me to put the link to the Blogger Awards blog instead. She said my votes will not count if I did not heed her instructions. I'm not afraid oh, but.... anyway, when you go to the blog, the link for Category B is on the right hand side. And please, ignore whatever Afrobabe & Iyabo Opeke says. They're both crazy. Vote 4 me and me alone.

P.P.S. On Thursday, I blogged about the few and very simple things I require of my future bridesmaids, and Lolo Bloggs asked what I had planned for myself as the bride. Now, I feel compelled to tell you all. I just don't know how you're gonna take the news. Should I indulge you?

On Bridesmaids...

So, Bumight struck a chord with me on her recent post about wanting to be a bridesmaid. I have been a bridesmaid only one time in my life, and that was when I was Busola's maid of honor. It goes without saying that it was Busola's honor to have me as her maid of honor. Soon, I'm gonna be a bridesmaid for another friend, and no, I'm not gonna tell you who, when, or where. I talked about Busola's nuptials so much that my picture was found by many people. Once bitten, twice shy. I refuse to talk about this wedding. There were two other times I was part of a wedding: once when I was my aunt's little bride (gosh, I was too hawt!), and the other time, I was an usher (or was it a hostess??); the point is that we wore a beautiful burgundy gown.

Our dear Bumight has never had the honor expense of being a bridesmaid. Sure, you'll look cute (if you're not made to wear some butt ugly dress that highlights all your flaws), and sure, you'll have your pictures taken by a professional photographer. Let's not forget the chance to walk arm in arm with what is hopefully an eligible bachelor - if only for that day. I think my favorite part is when the bridal party dances into the reception. That's when I can show my kolomentality in the name of dance moves - not that I really have any.

Anyways, Bumight wants to be my bridesmaid. What wedding, you ask? Well, Bumight has joined the other crazy people (Funmi & Busola) in planning my wedding to my valentine. Bumight, don't worry; you, Funmi, and Busola are obviously all being carried in the same boat. Funmi and Busola have already started planning the speech they will give at my wedding. They even argue about whose speech will be better. Needless to say, I am not part of this conversation, but it is quite entertaining to listen to. Sometimes, I do indulge them, I must admit. I have long since removed all doubts about Funmi's and Busola's insanity. They're certified 'crase people.' And you, Bumight, have joined them. Congratulations!

For you, Bumight (and anyone else who might be interested in being my bridesmaid), please read below.

1. All bridesmaids must have their dresses (which I will design) sewn by Vera Wang.

2. Once chosen as a bridesmaid, no bridesmaid, can decline the offer.

3. Each bridesmaid must get to the wedding in a stretch hummer limousine that will be paid for by the bridesmaid. One bridesmaid per limo, please!

4. Each bridesmaid must buy the aso-ebi lace, of course, which will cost only $2000 for 5 yards.

5. Each bridesmaid must use that asoebi material to sew a style that I have designed: micro mini skirt & half top - with the words, "Vera's Maid" inscribed boldly across the chest.

6. Each bridesmaid must wear a pair of gold metalic stripper shoes designed by either Manolo Blahnik or Christian Louboutin. And no, they will not be stripping @ my wedding! The groomsmen are welcome to, though. :)

7. Anyone who is interested in being a Verastic bridesmaid should please answer the 5 questions below & mail it to my P.O.BOX immediately. Though I am not getting married yet (in fact, I'm not even engaged), it is imperative that I plan ahead, no? Please mail in your Verastic Bridesmaid application ASAP, and you will get a response once the wedding date has been set.

Verastic Application Form [all areas marked with asteris (*) are required, and the number of *s denotes how much power this question has...in determining if you get the honorable position or not. Answer wisely, my friends.]

*Name:

*Address & Number:

**********How much are you willing to donate to the Verastic wedding?

**********How soon can you start the donation?

Why do you want to be a Verastic bridesmaid?


All readers are eligible to become Verastic bridesmaids. I have even decided to shatter myths by allowing men to become my bridesmaids, so RocNaija, Rethots, Aloofar, Chari, Black007, Fine Agbero Boy, Jaguda, Nuggetzman, Danny Bagucci, Dabizniz, Darius Williams, Tobenna, Webround, Aribaba, Doug, NaijaDude, Banky W, Emeka Amakeze, Boorish Male, Naughty Eyes, Dante, NaijaLeta, Engineer Ayo, Mr C, Carlang and the rest of our male bloggers (and readers) are all free to apply. C'mon, I know you've all been picturing yourselves in pretty dresses & gowns, sashaying down the aisle all prim & proper. Admit it already and do the right thing!

This may come as a shock to you - considering how competitive this position is - but it costs absolutely nothing to apply for this position. Yes, I know.... I'm awefully sweet! Sometimes, I don't know what to do with myself!

So Bumight, how you take see am?

The Injustices Of The World.

I know I have been putting up a lot of funny, unserious posts lately, but please take a moment to be Verastically serious - if that is possible.

I have always been aware of the injustices in the world - like Black vs White, Men vs Women, Rich vs Poor, and Young vs Old. Before Friday (Feb 27th), I had not been hit hard by any of this. Before Friday, everything was just same ol' same ol' and you would have probably never heard me complaining of the injustice(s) of the world, but after what I experienced at Wal-Mart on Friday evening, my views have changed - and not for the better.

On Friday evening, I went to Wal-Mart (the All-American superstore) to buy the movie, Transformers for my cousin. He had been bugging for it, so I decided to finally go get it. In the clothes section, I noticed there were several yellow clothes and accessories. As you know, yellow is a bright color which makes it almost impossible to miss it. I went closer and realized that everything there was about Spongebob. High in the ceiling hung a banner that read, "Happy Spongebob." I actually don't remember if it read, "Happy Spongebob Month" or just "Happy Spongbob."

Anyway, there was a pair of yellow spongebob sleep-pants and a yellow spongebob sleep-top. I immediately moved in for the kill. It was only then that I realized the clothes were only for kids. No adult sizes. Now why would they go and do that?! I really, really, really, really liked it, but for any of it to fit me, I would have to lose I-don't-even-know-how-many-pounds and definitely lose some inches off my height too.

With regret, I succumed to the harsh reality: The yellow spongebob sleepwear was just not for me. My oldness had deprived me of a spongebob sleepwear. Talk about the great injustice of the world: Young vs Old. Sooooooooo not fair!!!!

I don't know where I should submit my complaint: To Wal-Mart? I could tell them how uncool & unfunny it is that they are selling cute spongebob sleepwear that is not not available in normal people's sizes. Or maybe to Nickelodeon? They're the owners of Spongebob, so I'm sure they approved of this injustice. Come to think of it, maybe I should take this straight to Obama. He needs to write and pass a bill that mandates Spongebob outfits to be made for adults.

Yeap, that's what I'm gonna do.

Let's Go There....!

Naija Blogger Awards is up...yay! I am not dedicating an entire post to the awards because I'm tryna create awareness & all that ish, but rather because I want to warn all of you: failure to vote for me will result in the permanent deletion of my blog. Yes, I realize this action will hurt me more than it will hurt you since I love and cherish my blog and its contents, but at least, my point will be made.

So what makes Vera - the one who lives Verastically - qualify? Please, read on. There are 17 categories for 'Category A' of the Naija Blogger Awards, and I intend to qualify for all of them. Yes, I said all of them.

1. Best Personal Blog: This shouldn't be difficult. Verastically Livin' is as personal as it can get. I have told you about my bathing routine (so now, you can practically picture me doing it); I have told you about my tropical rain forest (the jungle that hides within); I have told you about my shotput days (when I supplied free manure to grandma's farm); I have told you about my lactose intolerance (so now you know what not to serve me when I visit you), and I have even told you what kind of underwears I wear. What, do you need me to post a picture of my butt cheeks too?

2. Best Student Blog: So maybe I don't talk a lot about school, but I did mention that I had to do a school project when I had to visit a strip club and observe people. Well, what more do you want from me? Vote me there jare!

3. Most Inspiring Blogger: I inspired Temite, Funmie, and someone else whose name I can't remember right now to start blogging. How much more of an inspiring blogger do you want me to be? On February 14th, I even inspired God to answer my prayers and send me my Valentine. Hehehe. If I can inspire God, then what da heck?? If you ask me, I'll even say I inspired Barack Obama to run 4 President, but let's not get in2 that. We're keeping it on the down low.

4. Best Literary Blog (prose, poetry, story telling): Uhm, this might be a bit tricky. The stories I have told on Verastically Livin' are not exactly prose-type material BUT hey, they are stories nonetheless, no? Remember the story about the young boy who woulda wooed me if he wasn't so much younger than me? Well, that counts for something!

5. Best Use Of Theme In A Blog (religion, politics, social commentary, fashion, family, etc): How about "Totally Awesome" for a theme? If you ask me, that should count for something. And that is exactly what Verastically Livin' is all about. Someone might call this tooting my own horns, but what does he know?

6. Best Political Blog: Oh, this one is soooooo easy! On the day of the election, I blogged TWICE. I never, ever blog twice in a day, but that day I blogged twice - all for Obama. The posts are HERE & HERE. Now how's that for best political blog!!

7. Best Relgious Blog: I don't like the term 'religious;' I prefer 'spiritual,' but for the purpose of this award, I'll tell you that this is the best religious blog because on Sunday, October 19th, I rededicated my life to Christ. I also have a direct line to God. Who else has written a letter to Him and had it answered so swiftly and perfectly?

8. Best Fashion Blog: On Valentine's Day, I told you I wore a pink and black shirt. I only wore the pink shirt because it was Valentine's Day and I was tryna honor St. Valentine.

9. Best Entertainment Blog: Who else entertains you so much with the type of weird men she meets? Remember Mr. Kisser? TAB? Mr. Multiple Personality? Mr Slow? The Delivery Man? The weekend with three men - all of whom were either married, almost married, and probably married?

10. Best Everyday Read: By qualifying for categories one to nine, I automatically qualify for this one. It's no hard ball.

11. Most Creative Blogger: Me, of course! I came up with "Verastic" all by myself. I named Funmi "Fufustic" also (because I call her Fufu for short). And of course, I came up with the beautiful name that all of you are supposed to call me - Madam Interviewee Vera. Needless to say, you're doing a sucky job @ it. And one of these days, I'll shut all your blogs down.

12. Intellectual Blog: I know how to spell everyone's blogger/blogville name without looking. It's not easy, but what can I say? I have a rather high blogville IQ.

13. Dedicated Blogger Award (updates most frequently, comments, active blogger....): If you have not noticed, Verastically Livin' gets updated every three days (except for a few times when I have to delay because I need to update on a particular date. I am committed, darn it!

14. Most Likeable Blogger: I like myself, and that is all that should matter. The rest of you better get on board.... or else!! Yeap, I'm deleting Verastically Livin' and going to a far away land where I'll be known as the green-eyed one - Facebook.

15. Best Use Of Visuals In A Blog (images, themes, colors...etc): Every word you see in color in this post is a link. Do you have ANY idea how long it took me to hyperlink all these words???? Do you???? Well, that counts as visuals. That's my story & I'm sticking to it!

16. Best Use Of Media In A Blog (widgets, graphics, music...): Well, I have the 'Follow Verastic' widget, the 'Subscribe to Verastic' widget, and even the 'View My Complete Profile' widget. What more do you want?

17. Bloggers' Choice Awards (Naija blogger of the year): How many other bloggers have taken their time to put up this type of post? It is obvious I deserve this. Now, give it!

By now, I'm sure there is only one question on your mind: where do I cast my Verastic vote? Right HERE. The administrators require that no category be left blank, so please fill everything in. On a serious note, if you do not know which blogger to nominate for a category, just put 'N/A' or something like that. But don't leave it blank. This voting is open to any1 & everyone, so come one, come all.

I exit now....... to go & work on my acceptance speech.

*Vera singing* ... Winner oh oh oh, winner/winner oh oh oh oh winner/Vera you don win oh, winner/kpata kpata you go win forever, winner!

*Another song* It shall be permanent/it shall be permanent/what the Lord has done for me/it shall be permanent....permanent.....

Dear Host, Please Stop Inviting Me!

I dunno about other States, but there is a new trend (ok, maybe it's not so new) here in Maryland. People - and I'm not referring to the "party promoters" - throw parties to celebrate their birthday and then they charge you a gate/entrance fee. What nonsense!!!

Where do people come off inviting you for their "birthday party" and then charging you $30 before 11 o' clock or some nonsense like that??? So how much is it gonna be after 11? It doesn't even matter. If you wanna throw a birthday party, then do so and let people come and merry with you for free. If you don't have money to throw a party, then who says you have to? Why throw a party and tell me to pay? You might as well require all the guests to bring gifts. Whatever happened to good ol' staying home with friends and eating cake (and ice cream, of course)?

My phone and email have been bombarded with invitations to birthday parties where I am required to pay. Sometimes, there is even an enforced dress code. Why now??? I don't mind if there is a dress code; I just don't understand why it should be enforced for a birthday party. When you invite people to join you to celebrate your birthday, you're begging them for a favor - I think. In a large scale public event, of course, people have to pay and dress codes can be enforced. But for a birthday party??? Gimme a flippin' break! I could have been doing something else @ home - like watching funny commercials or something.

This is how all this nonsense starts ooo. Before I know it, couples getting married will start charging their guests at the door and even enforcing a strict asoebi dress code...with matching Italian shoes & bags sef! That will be the day. Yes, that will be the day that I, the Verastic lover will quit attending weddings and plan my own instead. By the day my wedding date rolls around, I'm sure a man would volunteer to stand in as my husband. And I'll make sure I renew my vows every month - just in case the man begins to forget he's married. But don't lemme get into all the plans I have for my wedding and marriage. That will be for another post.

Of course, there is a slight chance that I might be over reacting...seeing as I am not much of a party person (except when a dancing catharsis is necessary). So my reason for not attending these pay-at-the-door birthday parties isn't usually because I am required to pay, but rather, first and foremost because I just don't wanna go. If I did wanna go, having to pay @ the door would then become the reason why I will not be found there. Pay at the door for someone's birthday party????????? Please!!!

Oh, well. What do I know? I'm just a gal with an overactive imagination who thinks she can make certain things & places disappear. Hehehe. (Yes, I am aware that almost no1 knows what the heck I'm talking about. I said almost no1). But seriously, I think this is simply ridiculous. If you want to become a party promoter, then knock yourself out and stop hiding under the cloak of having a birthday party. *HISS*

Oh! And "Category A" of Naija Blogger Awards has started, so please COME ON DOWN!!! If you don't have a name for any category, don't leave it blank, write N/A or something. Better yet, fill every category with Vera Ezimora. Just a thought...! :-) Alright, I'm begging, please vote 4 me!!! If you do, I will.... I don't even know what I will do. What do you want me 2 do? Pray, do tell! Click HERE to vote.

Eat. Drink. Lick. Suck.

Get your mind outta the gutter; I'm talking about ice cream. What do you do to ice cream?? I have a hard time picking out the right word from my vocabulary. What do you do to ice cream??

Eat: If you say you're eating ice cream, something about it doesn't seem right. Eat?? Does ice cream get chewed between our molar teeth? The thought of it sounds painful. Do we ever need to floss it out? 'Eat' just doesn't sound like what we do to ice cream.

Drink: Now this is even weirder, but people do say they're drinking ice cream. Unless the ice cream is melted and you're literally gulping it down from a cup (or bottle), I don't understand how ice cream can be drunk. Can it? If it can, it kinda defeats the whole purpose of it being ice cream.

Lick: This sounds naughty. When I think of licking ice cream, I imagine sticking my tongue out and licking it off of something...like a plate or a bowl. Or even a spoon. Try as I might, I cannot help but associate the licking of ice cream to naughty stuff. The question is: how many licks does it take to get to the middle of the ice cream?? Ah, naughty, naughty thoughts. The hardcore truth is that cunninglingus has made it difficult to hear "lick" without thinking dirty thoughts. Bad world we live in. But this is about ice cream.

Suck: This is the naughtiest. How do you suck ice cream? People say they're sucking ice cream, but how is that possible?? I picture a hard ice cream that is on a stick, one that cannot be melted by licking. Only sucking will do. Ever since the invention of fellatio (I have deliberately used this word instead of the O.S. word to avoid further complicated Google Analytics searches), the word "suck" has just not remained the same. Of course, this predicament has also befallen the word, "lick," but I digress...

So seriously, what do you do with/to ice cream? This is a serious debate that has been going on in my head. Unable to habor anymore of these daunting thoughts, I have decided to bring it to you: the grand jury. If you're wondering what I do - or say I do - with ice cream, I just say, "I'm having ice cream."

....That in itself could be interpreted to mean something else. People can have other people. The alternative is that I'm just overthinking this ice cream consumption terminology too much. Perhaps, I should just eat, drink, lick, suck, have, and shut up.

Your thoughts?

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.

Love Is In The Air

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!!!

I wish I could tell you about the detailed plans I have for a very romantic evening, but alas, I have no such plans - for now. I'm hoping that I will receive a mysterious knock on my door, and when I open it, there he will be standing. Who is he? Beats me. But I sure do hope to find out later.

If you're in a relationship (boyfriend/girlfriend, engaged, married), please do something special. The man doesn't have to fly you to Paris for breakfast in a private jet - although that would be nice, of course. But if you both stay home and watch something funny, that would be just as sweet. Maybe I'm just talking about myself anyway. If I had it my way, I would stay home, cuddled on the sofa (with a person who is anatomatically different, of course!) and watch Zeburudaya all day. If while laughing hysterically @ Zeburudaya, he happens to present me with a necklace from Jared....or the keys to my Range Rover...or a good ol' starburst (berries n creme) candy, who am I to say no??? I wouldn't dare! :-)

I don't have any memorable Valentine Day experience. I've always been either single or wishing I was single. lol. This year, I am obviously single. But when next I'm not single, I won't be wishing to be single. I will check very well before I enter into another precarious situation. Heaven knows I don't wanna find myself in another God-please-make-him-stop-calling-me situation. But I digress.

Wish you all a very wonderful Valentine. In case you haven't, please read my new note on Valentine - Dear Saint Valentine. See you on Tuesday!

What Do I Blog About Today?

I'm feeling a little rusty. I can't blog right now. I need to take a blog-shower and blog-refresh myself. I'll be back on Valentine's Day.

In the mean time, enjoy my new article Dear Saint Valentine.