Tag Archives: Random stuff

Single Nigerian Meets MissMeddle – Literally…

Single Nigerian Man exposed at last
My darlings who no longer love me – if ever at all you did… I have gist. Fresh, hot, beautiful gist.

After our initial meeting, I was finally granted permission to meet His Majesty!! Let me give you the breakdown of how it all went down.

So then, there we were staring at each other, trying to match real life to all the chats and texts and calls and pictures. Then came the awkward moment. My mental calculator was rapidly measuring whether or not to hug him, if I should give him a side hug filled with shoulder blade, or bless him with a full frontal. Our guy, meanwhile, was peaceably leaning in for a bear hug.

So we ended up having a weird semi-full frontal (does this make any sense?!!). So, that little bridge safely crossed, we proceeded to sit down and argue over possession of the tv remote. That over and done with (I won, yay me!), we stared alternately at the tv and at each other.

OK, I must confess that this was when I began prattling on a bit. Yes, I yammered on about the inconsequential for a few minutes. Sigh. I was nervous. Personally, I’m much more comfortable with our virtual friendship and vague promises of meeting at undefned points in the future. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to be in the same room with him…

So we crawled along conversationally, with a few scattered laughs for extra flavour. At some point, your man made a comment about how I didn’t even seem happy to see him. Quite calmly, I explained to the individual that I could only be happy to see him if we’d had a prior meeting. As it was, he was lucky I opened the door, gave him the bony hug and let his feet cross the entryway.

All in all, though, it wasn’t a bad meet. I have finally met the invisible man. Congrats to me.

P.S.

Dear Majesty, to protect your reps, I will not tell them about that weird comment you made. You know the one.

P.P.S.

He also asked if I had any blogging gist for him. Little did he know that I would come up with this. Aren’t I evil?

Love,

Joy.

🙂

The Good Guys

For many who have read my articles and poems, it must seem like I do a lot of guy-bashing, abi? Well, my life with boys has not been all bad. I’ve met some really sweet, caring and romantic organisms with good qualities I could list from here to China… Lemme give you a quick summary.

The Really Sweet One

Lots of roses; so many , I had to give some away, love letters (yes, way back when), sweet smiles, my first kiss…

Teddy

My first taste of strawberries and cream, texting sweet nothings even when we were in the same room, always whispering compliments in my ear, meaningful hand-squeezes and secret smiles (we were disgusting with our PDAs), little gifts, making me feel GORGEOUS with the almost non-stop pictures. Sigh…

The Suitor

Caring, totally honest, eyes filled with puppy-love, frequent calls “just to see how I’m doing”. You meet this guy and instantly know he’s going to be reliable and consistent.

I know you guys like gist, but let’s stop there.

My point is, I have frolicked (!) with the good guys as well as the… let’s just say, not so pleasant ones. I do know that good guys still exist, they are out there walking amongst us like normal people.

Yes, I said it. Men are not all dogs. Some of them can be quite sweet and cuddly and cute (*batting eyelids*).

Sadly, though, I do not have a good track record with the above-mentioned lovely creatures. I tend to fall more heavily for the ones I have to work for just a lil’ bit; they pique my interest. Sorry, Good Guys, I truly am!

 

P.S. Single Nigerian Man has you all brainwashed, abi. So no one thought to even ask of me. No sweat. I’m off to have a good cry in a dark corner.

P.P.S. Abeg, all these guys in my life, don’t remember to revenge o! Think only Christian thoughts of forgiveness and peace towards me:-)

Like a Broken Record

Show of hands; how many of you have been through a painful breakup? Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to raise your legs as well as both arms, now! Na wa.

For all tv show lovers, cast your minds back to The Cosby Show, where the eldest daughter, Sondra, was involved in a rather turbulent relationship with Elvin. Now, the whole Huxtable family didn’t particularly like young Elvin because whenever he and Sondra broke up (they did so a few times), Sondra would walk  around the house, soulful look on her face, shoulders drooped and headphones nailed into her skull as she crooned miserably;

The flowers have died

There is no morning dew

The crickets know no love songs

And I feel so blue…

Which brings me to my  point. Most of us have a Breakup Playlist. A few years ago, when my tiny heart got pulled out, rolled around in the dust and then stepped on, I created my first ever Breakup Playlist. Naturally, it tended a bit towards girl power and liberation, but also had a few tracks with deep, poetic lyrics all talking in parables about misery. Really good stuff, ba? I know. It saw me through the hard times.

I don’t think I produced earwax for a couple of months during that time, since my earphones were almost always implanted in my ears and the music blasted straight to my soul via my brain, drying up any moisture in its path. It’s a wonder I still have my hearing.

I would copy the playlist directly at this point, but sadly, that phone has long since crossed over to the great phone shop in the sky… Well, I’ll list a few of the ones I remember.

Nelly Furtado – All Good Things (Come to an End)

Say It Right

Kelly Clarkson – Since U Been Gone

Sade – King of Sorrow

P!nk – Funhouse

Ayo – Down on my Knees

Nuttin’ But Stringz – Broken Sorrow

When the slightly resuscitated heart again got knocked down recently, I didn’t let myself make another playlist. Enough, I told myself. Instead, I surrounded myself with feel-good music. So for a while (and up till now) I listen to the entire Crazy Love album (Michael Buble). And Nelly Furtado’s Try. And Koop Island Blues by Koop feat. Ane Brun. As well as my usual naughty songs which I will always love.

That is not a playlist.

C’mon, you’re amongst friends here. What do you listen to when love goes sour?

Con Artist

Heels

I feel rather fraudulent being here. This slot is meant for a “single Nigerian girl”, yet I contradict the definition of every word in that phrase.

The single part feels false because, no, I am not “tearing up” clubs on the arm of numerous interchangeable toasters. The Nigerian part because, no, I have never pounded yam before, nor am I fluent in any Nigerian language. Finally, we get to the crux of the matter.

Why I Am Not a Real Girl

= I do not wear make up… makeup??? How is it spelled? :-s I quite simply have no interest in it on myself, maybe I’m just lazy.

= I don’t make small talk. This is a statement and a warning to all.

= I do not wear heels. No, they are not for me. Perhaps in a fit of boredom, I may steal a pair to take pictures in, but that’s it.

= I am never as well put-together as real girls; my hair out of place or generally just too casual-looking.

= My girlfriends once joked that, knowing me, I would probably get married in jeans and slippers if I could get  away with it. For some reason, they looked horrified when I said, “Why not? There’s always white jeans.”

= When it comes to guys, I am not at all lady-like. If I like you, I see nothing wrong in walking up to you and saying hi. I have a long list of good friends, stalkers and pests to prove this.

= I travel light. Unlike many girls I know who look like greedy pirates making off with precious booty (all for a two-week trip), two medium-sized bags are more than enough for me.

= Handbags are sooo not my thing. I lug them around when I must, but that’s it. We are not friends.

= When it comes to anger, I do not explode on the spot, hair, nails and breakable objects flying. I walk away and then, when you least expect, sit you down and calmly inquire as to what exactly drove you to piss me off.

= Finally, when a guy presents a cut finger to a real girl, she will fawn over him, soothing and massaging, crooning on about his strength and bravery, all the while feeding his eyes with acres of cleavage. I, however, will probably ask how it happened, poke gingerly at it, lean back and say, “You’re a big boy, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

All these concrete reasons notwithstanding, Single Nigerian Man has decreed me worthy of the title of Single Nigerian Girl, so here I am. His majesty has spoken.

The Price of Achievement

So here I am again, about to write something serious. I can already feel my head twitching from the load I am about to drop on this page. Its Thursday, half the population in the office have already gone home i.e. half of the half left in the office from the Sallah trips. For once, the internet is fast enough to actually get some work done. I feel my presence reducing on the blogosphere, I don’t visit half the blogs I used to and the remaining half I visit i don’t visit half as much as I want to (ok that was me trying to be Bilbo). Had this thought last night, partially inspired by MsLuffa’s post on Ineligible Bachelors. It goes like so..

It is so very easy to focus on the prize of achievement and miss the goal, aim and focus of achieving

What on earth am I talking about? We want so many things in life, good jobs, flashy cars, beautiful spouses in their own rights, it is possible to focus on just those things for all our life and never get them. It is also possible to have our minds so fixed on them prices that we fail to appreciate not the amount of work but the type of work we would have to put in to get there.

  1. Good Degrees Yes we all go to schools with our parents  drumming it into our heads how we need to get that paper. How many of us actually have some idea in our head of what we can give to society after? Thought that was the whole idea of school in the first place? Raising kids that can be of benefit to their immediate society? So we go to school and the good ones among us spend four years so focused on getting that paper that they miss out totally on the social aspect of school. They come out with good degrees but have no idea of how to relate with people. Others spend four years cramming pages upon pages and come out of school with no idea of how to apply it. As for the people that sorted and cheated, God help us all. We miss the goal, aim and focus of that achievement which is being of benefit to the society as a whole.
  2. Marriage: It finally dawns on you that you are old enough to get a mate (your words not mine) and after searching and probing, and sharing your love seed with quite a
    Mr Men

    number of people, you find one. You do the motions and get married. Yes you got your price prize but then you forget one thing, marriage is not about the prize/wife. It involves being a husband and a father, things that some people are just not equipped for. What happens, they run out to start the prize hunting all over again. One chick there, another there, why? Prize will always be at home. Like Shaggy said “Whatever is good for the mistress is also good for the wife, else another man will come give it to her“. It does work both ways though and here is something I wrote a while back. This seems a good time to share it

    Some marry beautiful women, others have good wives. You can go anywhere with a beautiful woman, however she cannot handle a home. A wife is a centrepiece, everything revolves around her

    Maybe if we focus on the aim and goal of the achievement there would be less divorces. Maybe if we focused on making a home, so many homes wouldn’t be broken.

  3. Salvation: Yeah we all want to go to heaven, I mean I want to too but then it amazes me how many people want to be the only ones there. You get so focused on the price prize of heaven that you fail to remember that someone led you down the road to salvation so that you can lead the many who are still as foolish as you were to God as well. No need to talk too much here. You know yourselves. You don’t mingle with sinners, you have no time for backsliders, as for the people that try to drag you back you cut them off without the slightest hesitation and leave them to perish in their iniquity. Abeg biko na oyibo man risk malaria and plenty plenty things to come preach the good news for Africa biko. Spare your black brothers. Heaven no be for only you biko, at least carry person gum body.

My head is banging right now, Banging like mad. Will now go on a commercial break to resume this post later.

Washes even brighter and it shows

So off with the commercials and on with the post.

Just realized that there is a big difference between prize and price. One being like an end result and the other being the work done to get it. I am getting old sha, I actually left it as price initially. SMH!!!

Prize…?

This should be the prize…

The weekend is almost here… Wish you all a wonderful one

Regards,

Single Nigerian Man   

Disclaimer: You know the feeling you get when you write something and have no idea what you wrote? Having it right now.

About Jane Doe: She is my personal terrorist, a look, slight voice change and I break out in a sweat, I swear.