And here you'll find what's left of my itty bitty heart

I guess you can only call your heart broken if you actually gave it to someone.  Me, as the title of this blog indicates, is still a little way ways off from that.  Doesn't mean I'm not hurt, oh I'm hurt.
It has been a trying few days people.  I have been pulled and pushed to within the edge of my reasonable mind.  What happened? I hear you ask?  thanks for the consideration people... some of you would also remember that it is now a few days before Christmas and Mark should be changing my life and kissing me senseless every hour on the hour.
WRONG!
This is what happens when you get carried away... for no apparent reason whatsoever, in the year 2012 I have not heard a peep from him in three days.  I don't want to turn into one of those angry stalker girls by leaving him countless messages.
And so, I would like to thank him for his services to humanity.  I will not be making the same mistake twice.
Thankfully Christmas is about our Saviour's birth and hope coming into the world...
Bah Humbug everybody xxx

The three C's

This post is inspired by the travails of a friend of mine who has managed to put herself in a very awkward position... details to come.
Girls are a funny breed, I must admit it. We are entirely unreasonable at the best of times and supposedly reasonable at the worst, and in affairs of love and the heart even the most reasonable of girls  can become utterly unhinged.
My friend happens to be training for iron women events at the moment... yes you heard me, iron woman. To the un-initiated, these are events that test your ability to swim, run and cycle... certain distances against other similarly minded mad people.  She also happens to be a kick-ass doctor and only 26.
So, how does a woman like this end up with a guy that is utterly emotionally unavailable?  Well, maybe you are wiser than I am.  I have spent all of this week talking her down from continuing her relationship with this fellow.  She even traveled to the other side of the world to move on from him.  All of a sudden he cannot live without her and misses her etc etc etc shoot me now!  I love the girl in question so obviously I want her to be free of this fellow and explore new and better things.
What was the problem?  The three Cs
 - Companionship
 - Chemistry
 - Compatibility
They had the first two but not the last one. According to her, you need all three for a relationship to thrive. The problem with monikers like the above is that every couple is different and fixing absolutes on human beings who are very complicated beings requires a level of faith that is well... serious!
Mark and I have had a few constructive arguments in the last few days which are mostly about compatibility.  I had to pause this post because there is a woman outside who is screaming at the top of her lungs.... she saying loud things in Ibo, and a group of people are trying to calm her down, Lagos for you...  I hope inspiration returns soon.

in other news... Mark is on a plane to LOS, now.... :)

How many yards...of husband material?

So, this is my response to a similar post on another website. Seeing as I am supposedly being swept off my feet by Mark. I know I'm not supposed to have a long list of pre-requisites for the man I am supposed to marry. The negotiable and the non- negotiable ones....
I am not fussy about race, but keen on a God fearing boy
I am not fussy about Nigerian ethnicity, but if he is Yoruba that would be a plus since my mother IS fussed
I am not concerned about height but if he were a wee bit taller that would be awesome
I don't have to support his football team but he'd better not be angry if Swansea beats his team silly
I am fussy about drugs, alcohol and nicotine
I am fussy about personal hygiene and unnecessary piercings
It would be nice if you had a good sense of humor but patience is more important
It would be awesome if he was not in the medical profession. My poverty does not need company
Dear Lord I realise this is a lot to ask but it would be great if when I saw him I couldn't think straight...

Right and in the real world I'm a little annoyed at Mark for going out drinking with his nameless, faceless mates and calling me whilst under the influence... Grrrrr

Nobody likes a happy Camper

So, in answer to Why my date did not Call back? Well, in His words, He was trying to make a relationship with someone Else get off The Ground As it were. I'm not upset, mostly because The phänomenon of having a back up is not new to me. Single People seem to Be casting their nets fairly widely These days in an effort to encompass all available options. He did not want to lead me On. Seriously, He Should have just Said so. I would have Supported His honesty.

Nö One likes a happy Camper so to prevent this from being my last post. We are t Minus 17 days Till Mark's arrival. Could this really Be it?

Labels und mein Freund Mark

Right.  So I may have gotten a little carried away speaking to the chap in Malaysia regularly.  I now have tenosynovitis in my right wrist from typing for hours on end (we managed to exhaust our credit talking on the phone).  Being my not overly romantic self we've talked about religion, raising kids and how to raise them.  We have disagreed on him not wanting daughters (the fool) and called a truce on what love is and what it isn't.  I almost told him about this blog when he said he didn't believe in love.  And naturally I asked, 'what do you mean by that?'

I think that he, like quite a few guys I've met recently are completely over the Hollywood representation of what it is to be in love.  They don't see lightning bolts electrocuting them, and they are definitely wary of not being able to think straight and becoming a different person for the sake of love.  My mother always says that if you can't accept a man the way he is before you settle down, don't be surprised when you are frustrated about not being able to change him.  Case in point, my father does not believe in replacing his shoes when they are dead, like falling apart dead.  He will want to fix them and patch them.  What she always does is she takes his credit/ debit card and buys him expensive shoes and throws out the old ones.  He'll whine for a couple of weeks about the expense bla bla and he'll end up being very happy with them. If she waited for him to replace his shoes she'd end up embarrassed at church every Sunday.  It's one less thing to fight about.

I'd like to ask, do the ladies/ fellas (I doubt there are guys out there reading my rants) out there have fundamental disagreements with their relative others?  and if so, where do you draw the line?  Let's call the Malaysian guy Mark.  Cos his story is a long one.

Mark was one the the new guys in Year 7 of high school.  He had odd looking hair in that it didn't grow like the usual African koko hair and was dark in complexion.  He seemed a very jovial sort of person and I actually deep down thought he was quite handsome, especially when he smiled and these cute dimples showed up.  Anyhoo, another new guy also arrived in Year 7 lets call him the Devil.  The Devil made my life miserable in high school and not once but twice did I slap him for calling me some unsavoury names.  If I thought that my experience was bad, Mark bless him had it much worse.  Mark wasn't one of the popular kids and so the popular kids picked on him. He was quite clever but his grades fell the worse the bullying got and he was put on academic probation.  It was so bad that once I remember seeing him with a cut lip and bleeding eyebrow after the Devil was through with him.  Mark began to fight back in Year 9 or 10, but by this time the bullying had earned Mark a bad rep with the teachers and administrators at school.  The Devil managed to frame Mark for every ill a teenager could possibly commit.  Mark was suspended and I haven't seen him since.  You can imagine that the constant negative press stressed out Mark's parents, who he now has a very difficult but understanding relationship with. He was banished to Canada where he studied and did well for himself, and ended up working in Eastern Europe and South East Asia, where he currently lives.

Pat on the back for me! that was 10 years of a man's life shortened into 1 paragraph.  I digress, Mark and I were not friends in highschool cos he kinda made me miserable too, but nowhere near as bad as the Devil and his cronies.  3 years ago Mark called me in England and apoligised profusely for what he had done to me back then... apparently he also called my old bestie from high school to do the same.  I took it as, hey, God is helping me to close that painful chapter properly!

Two weeks ago I get another phonecall from Mark (how the hell does he get my number... I haven't asked)  and we talked about high school which he says still haunts him and how he wants to move home but his parents keep talking him out of it.  I will readily admit that I like sparring with him...

for example:   yesterday at 3 am his time...

   me:  hmm, we've been chatting a while now I should let you go to 
   him:  maybe I'm not sleepy
   me:  really? ur not flying to Singapore tomorrow?
   him:  nope, I'm going to be working flexibly in KL now.  shouldn't u be at salsa?
   me:  well, I skipped salsa cos someone told me they didn't want a daughter
   him: heavy lunch still tying you down?
   me:  No mark, just enjoying what I'm doing presently
   him:  being
   me:  talking to some idiot in Malaysia
  him:  thought so, right, i'm off to sleep

Heaven help me.  He'll be home in four weeks to decide whether staying here in Nigeria is feasible.  I'm not pushing him either way.  The grown up part of me is happy to see him as who he is now without the cloud of his previous labels of 'good for nothing bad boy won't amount to  anything'  because clearly those labels were all wrong.  Another part of me (the childish part)  is concerned about about what people will say (who knew us both from back then)  if this became something.

We'll see, there's nothing wrong with making friends...

P.S  my girlfriends from after high school know about him and I want him to meet them.... so it's not like I'm hiding him from people lol

So this is why girls slit their wrists sitting by the phone...

I realise that the above heading is a tad dramatic, but it has been a trying week.  I know I am a boring person. Nothing makes me happier than sitting in bed with a good book or watching Family Guy re-runs.  So, when someone suggested to me last week that I should go on a date with her husband's friend I thought, 'why the Hell not'. All I'm doing is working anyway.  I'm at that age where people are beginning to get anxious for me in terms of my singleness. I am 26.

Make an effort young lady.  So I agreed to be set up, I gave this lady my number and she said, 'expect him to call'. No problem.  She also slips in that he's 35/36 or something like that.  I can hear you screaming at the screen! 'Why isn't he married now???? there must be something wrong with him'.  I was raised to have an open mind .  My famed Emma impersonator also mentions that he's a bit wary of Nigerian females bla bla.  I'm more than wary of Nigerian guys my age so I thought, 'What's the worst that can happen?'.

Then I did my research on dating on the Nigerian scene, I read some articles on some websites and stumbled on an AMAZING blog by some chap that goes by the moniker Esco.  He could be my twin brother.  I digress, I got the call on Monday and he seemed nice not overly effusive or anything and he laughed at my jokes (to be fair I can be very funny).  We set up Wednesday as a good day to meet and I'm getting excited. Wednesday comes and he calls to set up time and place and we agree 7 at my salsa club.  He warns me that his bed time is 9ish so the earlier the better.  I don't usually fall asleep till midnight but I shrug it off.  The way I saw it, if he didn't show up then I could have my salsa class and a man's arms around me to get over it, ja! 6.30 comes and he's on Awolowo road at a petrol station which he has been at for a couple of hours and he apologises and says he'll be at the club before 8.  No wahala, I use the opportunity to eat dinner.  By the way, the diet is going very well and weight loss is being achieved!

I usually walk to the club from home, takes about 5 minutes and as I'm walking in, there's a perplexed man in a white shirt, average height looking very lost.  I thought it was him but walked passed him into the club and looked at my phone to make sure that MTN was giving me enough signal to receive a phone call (to be fair that means nothing in this country).  I get the call a couple of minutes later and hey presto! It's the perplexed black man in the white shirt.  I know some people like details so here goes
1.  He double air kisses (which always confuses me)
2. He is dark, like my dad black (like coal lol) and Yoruba (at least my mum will be happy)
3.  He orders a soda water with lots of ice (dunno what to say about that...)
4.  When he relaxes and smiles he has these really cute dimples (score!)
5.  He really likes tuna (don't ask me why this is important it is what it is)
6.  He swims for an hour every morning and weighs himself every morning and goes to the gym
7.  In his words, he can be very anal about orderliness

People who know me would be under the impression that I would jump at the opportunity of someone so darn similar to myself...and it was really easy chatting with him.  Maybe I even imagined some chemistry.  But I am an old fashioned gal, part of me wants fire and passion and another part of me is like, calm down o jere he's a stranger.

He offered to drive me home which was nice, cos I accepted.  I am one of those people who believes you can tell a lot about a person from what they drive (he drives a jeep jeep).  I personally just want a car that moves and has air conditioning cos I am sick and tired of supporting the taxi industry in Victoria Island, I digress.  We get to mine and after finding a parking spot he walks me to my door and we continue chatting about pools and the economy and bla, then who walks up the stairs.... MY MOTHER.  Whom I have told absolutely nothing about me dating anyone Thankfully she behaves like a human being and a brief introduction of names is made and she leaves.  More air kissing and he's off!

It is now Friday people, and he has NOT called.  I will just take it as he's not interested and pat myself on the back that I tried.

and in other news:  I should correct an earlier error, the chap from Malaysia will be in Lagos in December with my ring... not in a couple of weeks and we chat with each other every other day pretty much. I'm not sure what the etiquette is for these things, I have never been in a position to 'juggle' men lol in my life.

'Mindin ma own business'

Typical Tuesday?  Not.
There I was, minding my own business when all of a sudden I hear a beep beep from my computer screen.  I am not someone that facebook chats very often with people.  I find it a tad restricting.  I'd rather skype or whatsapp. Anyhoo, who is it?  A long forgotten I couldn't really call him a friend because we were never really friends or an acquaintance cos I saw him 5 days a week for 5 years minus summer holidays and winter breaks.  An old classmate, yes.  To memory he was not off putting to look at but he was troubled.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I was bullied in high-school; well he was one of my tormentors (and he was bullied worse than me).  I was always too busy with my own misery to pay him any mind.  I remember he was expelled and went off to Canada or something.  Turns out he was fairly brilliant and did great in Canada and  is working for a multinational in Malaysia.  All lovely things.  You are wondering now, what on earth this has to do with my chronic singledom.  Well I just spent 8 hours chatting with this fellow. Received the obligatory proposal (I am just that charming, and Nigerian boys taunt us girls with these gems when we know they are not serious).  We talked about all sorts of things.  It was the first time he'd talked about himself in ages. particularly about the painful things.  He apologised to me, again.  (He called me out of the blue 3 years ago in London) and he's forgiven.  It always amazes me how kids can be the cruelest creatures when unsupervised.

He says he's smitten, he says he'll be in a Lagos in a few days bearing gifts (and my engagement ring).  I told him to buy me a drink first and we'll go from there.

Raining and 'Celibacy' or being without

So, apparently a very good looking Seventh Day Adventist lay preacher, prayerfully maintained his celibacy (for ten whole years) afore marrying the girl of his dreams.  It's raining outside and well I'm a little uncomfortable...happens every time it rains.  The whole needing a warm body thing.  Anyone who tells you that remaining 'without' and being single whilst everyone around you seems to be ecstatically happy NOT, is lying through their chicken teeth.

I'm not complaining, it's just that when I had a nice little fellowship group in blighty (before everyone upped and got married), there were people sharing my discomfort.  We'd chair activities, we'd plan outings, anything really to fill the time without.  Naturally, praying for each other helped.  But, I am an adult and I can be frank without being coarse.  It is not funny sometimes...being without in isolation is hard.  It doesn't help that I am a health care professional and on some days all I do is talk about everyone's activity.  The reformed playboy I mentioned last week didn't believe I had never been with.  I don't go around shouting it to people and trust me, I am not squeamish about other people's activities, maybe that's why everyone's convinced I am hiding some hot number under my bed.

Salsa has been helping...and my diet is going well, 2kilo's down wooohoo! Might pick up baking again, saw the most amazing recipe for caramel apple crumble. (This is how I got fat in the first place, sigh)

In other news,   It's still raining outside...

Unexpected

Sometimes, wisdom comes from the most unexpected sources.  I can mouth off on my lap top quite happily but it seems I have not been able to 'mouth off' about myself enough to the most significant people in my life.  The biggest one being my mother.  I don't know how other people 'cope' with their mothers cos I don't have many cousins or a vast extended family like some of my friends do.  For Nigerian standards you could say, we are quite a small family.  On the face of it, we are ridiculously crazy when all put together.  We know each others likes and dislikes and are generally quite witty.

However, growing up it was re-inforced or numerous occasions that having conversations with my mother about my feelings or the male gender would not be taken well.  I know enough psychobabble to rationalise the reasons why she found this difficult.  And of course, as a Christian, Christ first, others second always.  Still it has meant that when or if I am hurting about this whole singleness and life malarkey, she is the last person I would talk to.  She is loving, out going, warm, charming, there are not enough positives to use to describe her.  But, this is where her shortcoming is.  It has meant that I internalize an awful lot.  Internalizing/ processing as I like to call it, upsets my mother.  She just gets frustrated that she doesn't know what I am thinking. Instead of asking neutrally, she gets angry and vocally so and that makes me retreat more.... vicious cycle eh?

The reason I go on about this is that a semi - reformed play boy gave me the most level-headed advice I have heard about how to tackle this (I'll let you know if I survive).  Nigerians would tell you to pray about it, and trust me... I am 26 and have been a Christian for 12 years, I have prayed about it.  It will require sacrifice (everything does) but what is love, if not sacrifice!  Baby steps.

In other news, my Audi is getting air conditioning!!!!! translation... broke :(

For the love of Pete's dead aunt

There are a few things lacking on this side of the sphere.  One of the biggest ones is 'customer service'.  Africa has enjoyed a sizable communications boom in the last ten years, not least in the vast city of Lagos.  You would think that this would improve the customer experience...er nope.

A couple of months ago, I ordered Chinese from somewhere I had not ordered from in ages.  I can actually see their restaurant from my house (which should give you an idea of how close it is).  3 hours later and multiple phone calls about a dispatch rider getting lost or not being able to find my street bla bla, the chap arrives.  No apology, no extra drink or crisps, he says to me 'madam your house no easy find oh!'  Before I reason out why he may or may not have been hampered by anything.  If you run a delivery business that has a 1 mile ,  I repeat, 1 mile radius (2km for the Americans ish)  SURELY you should know what streets are near by.  My mother was upset that I paid for the meal and said she would have told him to return to his restaurant.  I was just hungry so I let it go and ate my bland rice.  Never ordering from them again.

So today, when I ordered a meal at 12pm and was told it would be with me in 35mins, I was cautiously optimistic it would get here.  I work on a fairly well known street, and the restaurant is less than a mile away from me.  12.45 comes and no  food, 1pm comes and no food.  I call the place and the lady is utterly unhelpful.  'where is the dispatch rider?', I ask. No response.  'Can you hear me?' and she says 'Yes ma, he left since'.  When you have a disgruntled customer, you're supposed to say things like, Oh, I don't know what is happening, sorry, let me call him and get back to you.  My lunch break ended at 1pm so I sneakily asked one of the security guys to get me fast food :(  And I have now broken my diet, tada!

Then the food gets here at 1:15 and I tell the chap that I had called the restaurant and canceled the order.  He had the guile to be snippy at the receptionist!  Tail between legs he returned to base and I get another phone call at 1.30 from the manager of the restaurant who says 'madam, now the cost of the meal will have to be on me'.  Once again, no apology, no pre-amble, no incentivisation.  In my head I am thinking ' you can bloody well sod off!'  In reality, I say, ' well I am sorry to hear that, but my lunch break is now over and I waited for over an hour to get the food, clearly the dispatch rider was able to get to you in under 15 minutes to tell you what happened...'

I do not have a degree in marketing or customer relations, but I have done my fare share of waiting tables and restaurant work (I even worked at the famous Goring where Princess Katherine stayed before the wedding, brilliant friendly place!).  If at any point they seemed remorseful, I would have taken the food.  But when all you are concerned about is that you will have to pay for a meal I have not eaten! Nah.  Fool me once, shame on me.  Fool me twice and well....

In other news, the texting American may be in town soon.  Watch this space.
(and I have violated my anonymity pact by using the above title for this post. Anyone who knows me knows I say that a lot)

Teapot, meet Kettle

So, I may have calmed down a little bit since yesterday.  I say a little cos I am still reasonably agitated.  I used to be a chilled out person, honestly I was.  I should have titled this post, ' After fighting with a taximan, finding out your house is flooded and that the person hitting on your beloved was hired by your office, what do you do?'

My bestie and I are not having a good week.  You've probably realized that I'm a little of a control freak (I admit it)  and I am getting used to being somewhere where absolutely nothing is under your control.  No matter how much you pay NEPA (the power company) you won't have electricity.  No matter how much you much personal space you want, as long as you are living with your parents and female... life sucks for you.  Basically, my bestie is in between drivers at the moment and is getting a taxi from the Island to the mainland every day for work.  Being German, she is a stickler for time and probably crazier than me.  She gets home and not only is there no power, her entire flat is under water.  Poor thing just sat on the stairs and cried.  Why didn't she call me?  Well, she's as stubborn as I am and decided to 'power through'.  To add insult to injury, a girl who I have actually witnessed hitting on her chap as in seriously going to town... is now in the employ of her office.

The parents have decided to move away from where I can see the ocean.  And as I am between cars (read, car-less) This is going to be an epic change from the way I live.  It's not their fault, to be honest.  They are the ones paying the rent.  If I was earning enough to live where I wanted.... then I would.  I say this, knowing my mother would never allow her unmarried daughter to live on her own/ with friends.  But that is another story for another day. 

What is the solution for a week that sucks?  SALSA!  Seriously... bestie and I went salsa dancing yesterday, which was fantastic.  A solid two hours of girating and me trying not to fall over, but it was fun!
And if that doesn't work for pumping the endorphins and making you feel better.... teapot, meet kettle.  As an old friend used to say, if a cup of tea won't help, pray.

In other news:  Got a random message from an on and off American, and I am doing really well keeping away from 'ahem'

Personal War 3

Maybe it comes from being bullied for the formative years of my life, or maybe it comes from my ineffable personality, but there is some crap I will not take.

Our culture is one of deference.  We defer to everyone who is older, we defer to males.  The hierarchy goes thus...older male, older females, married men, married females, ALL men, then a single female. As a single, unmarried female I am clearly at the bottom rung on the ladder of people that should be taken seriously.  I have, fortunately been allowed to mature outside the shores of this lovely land.  And as such, I have taken for granted that my voice is important and should be heard.  If I have an objection to something (NOTE not someone), I make my views clear.  I lay them all out on the table so that there is no ambiguity about where I stand.  Apparently according to the the males in my house, I might as well be a turd.  Also, any airing of any view is seen as complete hostility. Kill me now, why don't you!!!!!!!!!

I give up.  I am not giving up my voice by the way.  I am not a child.  I give up caring... cos clearly, me caring means that I am being emotional and I need to be told to calm down.

In other news, I need to give up the dark one, sigh.  I am honorable (I keep telling myself).

A little too much?

Well, what happened?  I was trolling aforementioned website and clicked on a recent heavy duty wedding article.  Lots of fun pictures! yay! I do enjoy the wonder of these big, themed, ridiculously expensive weddings.  However, as I scrolled down the page at probably picture 50 or so, something hit me.  It didn't feel pleasurable looking at this beautiful couple on their fated day.  I am a big pro-marriage person and I am pretty certain mine will be a classy affair...but this, just, felt, wrong.  Maybe it was the wedding. Maybe I am just a kill joy. But at what point is it all a little too much?  In this part of the world it is important to celebrate our culture by having a traditional wedding as well as the religious wedding (Christian/ Muslim).  Now we have added pre-engagement parties, first meeting of the family parties, thanksgiving ceremony parties, post-wedding parties... I like to think that whichever god the couple worships, if any, won't be fooled by serial excuses to have a party.  And the expense! I'll get to that later.  Ok, you are having a themed, destination wedding. Brilliant! Romantic! For say 200 guests and there will be costumes, boats, ballerinas, doves, tigers, lions.  Salsa dancers, marimba, mixologists, desert stations etc.  All lovely in and of themselves, if this was a private thing with your family and friends.  However, when you decide to invade public space by publishing all these celebrations in a glossy in print or on the interweb then you are saying something. And what is it exactly you are saying....and who are you saying it to?  I cannot deny anyone the right to spend their money in any way they see fit.  I am just a little wary that in a bid to outdo each other in the way weddings are handled in these gossip rags, we might loose sight of what's real and important.  Two people who are making a lifelong (supposedly) commitment to each other.  It is a huge step.  Take a week or month or year of celebrations to mark it if you want, but the public may soon stop being positive about these dream weddings.  Let's see. I have been accused of being a kill joy before.

Oh and I did post a comment on the site along the lines of  'this is a fantastic wedding but a Cinderella coach? come on now'.  Needless to say, the moderator did not post my comment

The absence of

Seeing as this blog started off as an account of my past / non-existent relationships, an update is needed.  I have recently taken to trolling the relationship column of a very popular internet blog locally.  I just wanted to see what the pulse was like amongst women of my age group when it came to the going and getting.  It seems we all travail the same waters.  Everyone and their dog is obsessed with giving advice about this relationship or that relationship.  I will be wary not to start giving my own advice.  I am thoroughly clueless.

I am sure of one thing though.  I am good at making friends and keeping them.  I have been accused of being too quick to leave off some people, but the truth is I am and have always been shy.  If someone and I (male or female) are truly on the same wavelength then I have absolutely no problem hounding them to keep in touch.  It doesn't require hounding in most cases.  If the person is a friend but I have my reservations, then I will politely let them be. Besides, sometimes it is wise to leave some people out of the inner workings of your life if they are not a positive influence. Why all this palava I hear you say?  Well, I succumbed and spoke to my ex, yes, the whore.  And his girlfriend by the way.  It was a lovely 1 hour chat and reminded me of why we became friends in the first place.  We did always have good banter and it is so unforced!  This happened on Sunday.  However, on Saturday night I went out to dinner with my best friend and brother and a pal came by.  I refuse to accept that Nigerian boys are just flirty without an agenda cos man, If I wasn't verily a woman who can stand her own I would have been taken in by his advances.  You know what?  I'll have to go over the evening with an objective second party and get back to you.

The wearer of many hats

So, a lot has happened in the last couple of weeks.  New job, new office, better pay (although, heaven help me it's been spent already).  One of my closest friends has moved to this way and I am very excited.  It must be said that kindred spirits are not to be scoffed at.  Very few people I have met since coming here would willingly go to the mall sans make up in an old t-shirt and purple  3/4 length jeans.  She also has a new job, new albeit noisy office and better pay.  Her beloved will be heading down to 'Africa' as well, yay, and is still insisting on putting off children till erm 2018 thereabouts.  All this would be perfectly reasonable if he were older than her, but boys tend to forget that there can be an expiry date on the freshness of eggs.  No pressure.

I start German classes today, yay!  In my master-plan to take over the world and return to Europe to make it happen, I've decided that French is not enough.  They are the biggest economy in Europe and heaven knows they are organized.  I have also decided to fix my car.  It is a ten year old Audi A3/4; the mind wanders, and it has lacked love and attention for many a year.  My entire driving radius is limited to the islands.  My blood pressure would sky-rocket if I experimented with driving on the mainland, besides, who do I know there? The problem is that you always feel like you are being duped by mechanics no matter where you live.  They tell you it will be ready on Tuesday... more realistically it will be ready on Friday.  Once I've figured out how to post pictures...you'll see.

Exercising and eating well is getting better.  I am now cooking all my meals from scratch and attempting to use my elliptical trainer 3 times a week. It is a struggle to stay fit here because no one walks anywhere.  And why would they?  There are barely any sidewalks.  Not to mention that I have a desk job and it costs too much to replace clothing because there are very few reasonably priced retailers.  I am not ridiculously flush and I still have to buy my clothes in England and get them posted here.  Hence, gaining any more weight would be a nightmare of epic proportions.  Oh and while I am ranting about 'health' related issues... what is it with women here and crazy expensive hair extensions, crikey!

In other news, my boss is very pregnant.  That's all I'm gonna say.

Marriage, baby, palava

I've been having a pretty good couple of days.  I haven't broke anything or anyone.  I've been nearly teetotal, in that my grey goose is now down to it's last shot and I'm hoarding it.  I miss those days when I could walk into Sainsbury's or Tesco and anonymously purchase vodka.  In West Africa, it isn't culturally appropriate for a girl to be buying alcohol by her lonesome (and I don't have the excuse of being mixed race or white or brown or yellow).  Hence, I've been putting off replenishing my stock.  Sigh, sad I know.

Lately, I have been receiving constant reminders that I am no longer a spring chicken.  I have cooed over enough newborns and not so newborns.  Some of these kids are turning 2 or 3 years old! People are having 5th year wedding anniversaries left, right and center.  My friends make awfully cute kids, it must be said so as much as I yapper on, meh, I love them.

Oh, and have I mentioned that everyone and their grandma is planning my imaginary wedding.  I was never one of those girls who dreamed about their wedding day and planned every aspect of it. I do remember drawing the floor plans of my Grecian style home +/- kids.  Said house has gradually morphed into an Edwardian/ Victorian town house with a gorgeous library and sun room.  Anything with large sash windows... I digress.  My response now to the traditional, ' We are waiting for our invitation oh!' is a smile.  I previously would retort, 'I'll let you know when I know'.

Recantata

So, a few months passed and in my desperation I had figured that there was absolutely no hope for me on this boat and it’s not like I’ve been proved wrong.  There I was minding my own business in my own house and feeling generally morose about the direction of things when along comes the ‘game changer’.  An utterly unexpected spirit.  You have had the benefit of understanding the context of my present predicament, considering, aforementioned gentlemen so, you can understand my complete surprise when an actual, personable, human being fell into my life and remained there for a month!  It is almost remiss of me to mention that he is/ was beautiful, inside and out.  Sensitive without being weak, sexy without being leery, funny without being coarse and friendly without crossing lines.  You are waiting for the penny to drop so let me throw it at you, he’s not gay… he’s in a relationship.  Yes, it was too good to be true.  The first black guy I fall for in 8 years.  Anyway, we had countless lunches, dinners, gone to the movies.  The first movie was horrific in content and seeing as we are movie buffs, we entertained ourselves by re-writing the plot scene by scene. Never was a scriptless movie more enjoyable. I go into this much detail for a reason; I promise.  Yes, so back to the breakfasts and lunches.  We talked, good, heaven we talked.  It was like the first time I had really talked in a year!  We’re on the same wavelength when it comes to art, diversity of music tastes, movies, books, religion, sigh I could gush on and bore you.  He broke me.  I had genuinely given up on meeting anyone that honest of the male persuasion in this country.  It was just honest.  And then I met his girlfriend, and she is lovely (obviously) and I wish him all the best.  He has left the continent now; too, I have lost another one to the Americas.

Interspersed within all this fun was an insignificant entity.  He makes this list because I met him at just around the same time as the game changer and they could not be more different.  We met at a mutual friend’s birthday drinks and he was the perfect gentleman in assisting me to prevent a vertiginous disaster each time I arose.  So I thought to myself,  ‘heigh , ho!’ .  Due to a distinct lack of diversity in the male gene pool here and an overabundance of girls who are willing to ignore certain things about these guys (note:  I am probably too picky), he is of the sort never to be in lack of female attention.  He could be considered fairly attractive, so warily I decided that being a friend to him wouldn’t hurt anyone.  He nearly ruined a favorite movie for me by being unbelievably negative.  Coming from me, that is an achievement.  And on a night when I needed a bit of an ego boost he committed the cardinal sin I find grossly distasteful.  He asked if my friend who was visiting was single.  Ps.  He had been flirting with me all evening in a light-hearted sort of way.  You know what? Maybe I over-reacted.  He’s single, she’s pretty (and not single); I’ll tell her he asked.

Setting the Scene

It’s not like since him I haven’t been attracted to other people.  Oh no.  I have been attracted to a few people.  There was the ADHD riddled, Jewish, swimmer who made me laugh, made me feel safe and gives the best hugs.  He distracted the crap out of me and as soon as I realized that every attempt I made to study with him (+/- his shirt) was a complete disaster, I exorcised him from my life.  There was the Eton bred, unbelievable conversationist whom I convinced to get back with his girlfriend.  As a psychiatrist if I charged per hour for our sessions, I would have been able to afford all those dresses I ignored as a medical student.  Seriously, we had a four-hour daily commute on the northern line, and then the Piccadilly line and if you didn’t know any better (and a lot of people didn’t…) you would have thought we were an item.  But no, I was just the Band-Aid.  I refrained from touching him in any capacity.  Did I mention he is now engaged to aforementioned lady?  Well, the date is set.   

I leave an entire paragraph free for a breed of boy that I had never before I left Mr Continental Drift.  I like to call them the NCBs aka Nice Christian Boys.  If you have ever been ensnared by one of these well-meaning creatures, you may have experienced full on Nice Christian Boy Syndrome, or NCBS for short.  With non-Christian boys, it is clear when flirting is flirting and when it isn’t.   They are in a word, intoxicating.  You know how girls complain that the guy was shallow, there was nothing in his eyes but lust etc.  These guys are lit with a fire that is super natural.  They quite literally have God on their side.  It doesn’t even matter if they are hot (in the traditional sense) or just good-looking or whatever.  They are presentable, polite and passionate about God.  If you don’t know what I am talking about, you really don’t know what you are missing.  Now, the problem with the NCBs is that an unsuspecting girl could get carried away and may have fashioned a whole grand romance in her head about her relationship with one of these chaps when in reality they are just. Being. Nice.   I learnt the hard way, and maybe I lost my way afterwards, then I learned and stopped paying attention to them altogether.  Maybe that is why my girlfriends all pretty much settled down and I ended up with a closet full of wedding outfits. 

It’s amazing how 8 years can fly by like that because I am now back where I started and alone.  I make friends, and they leave or I leave.  I am planning another grand escape to an even further continent than before and if I do, what will happen to my singledom?  Will I meet my fella and be forced to stay (she says smiling) or will I make more friends, yay! And be forced to leave again before I know what I am doing?  The latter is highly likely albeit not inevitable.  Give the girl a chance.

I left out a fairly prominent character in the debacle thus far.  The long timer, or as I like to call him, my American.  We have known of each other since I daresay conception… and have been circling each other and avoiding doing anything crazy our entire lives.  There was one year when I threw caution to the wind entirely and kissed him, repeatedly which he ruined by attempting to get ‘fresh’.  That was a bad idea because if I remove that incident from our history then I could at least say that I handled the entire affair well.  He is short, and he is short sighted like I am and although these are not no-nos are far as I am concerned, I like seeing whether he has grown up every time I say this to him.  He used to defend it outrageously before but now I don’t know.  I haven’t seen him since I showed him my favorite place in the world and he managed to complain the entire time as well as attempt getting ‘fresh’.  I was genuinely holding out an olive branch and he was being American.  My knowledge of men other than gay men is very limited.  I am what is considered a ‘good’ girl, ahem, and as such I can’t read him too well.  Lets just say that after that and other instances where he burnt olive branches, I have laid him to rest.  As a matter of fact he isn’t even a friend on Facebook.  When I am literary and prominent, he can find out through his brother (a friend on Facebook) how I am if he’s interested.  Dear gentlemen, if he had been even the tiniest bit romantic I may view him in a better light, I mean he got a free tour of the Southbank at dusk… that is my signature move!

Minim 2

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A few years later, after I had reformed and he had found his sexual prowess as a black, well learned, charming, distracted, metrosexual, fashion loving, whore from New York he came a - visiting.  My housemates proceeded to fall in love with him instantly (including the Gay best friend).  I don’t know how things are in the big apple, but in Blighty if you visit someone who is giving you free food and board in a house share, you bring gifts.  Flowers, a sleeping bag, massages, etc are all solid legal tender.  Under slept and frustrated I was glad to see the back of him.  We will always be friends.

Where we are now or, A bit of background

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It could be a sunny day outside today but quite frankly it’s muggy and has been raining for two days solid.  So it’s balmy and unnaturally warm, the sort of hot when you wear a low-ish cut tee shirt and stop feeling guilty about it the minute you step out of air conditioning.   There are those who get very excited about being in Africa, (West by the way) not the more fashionable east or very western south, I am in between continents you see.  So you find me in a car in a middle sized African city being driven to see someone who is in the same line of work as I am but who is older, wiser and much better traveled.  One of those scions of knowledge, worldly and otherwise who still managed to have four well-balanced progeny in spite of her general amaziness.  And all strong willed women, I’ll have you know.

‘I am still getting used to being here’, she says with big welcoming arms, ‘I arrived three days ago and I have been trying to get my electricity reconnected. She has warm eyes , grandma wrinkles in the right places and the sort of pale skin where you know her grandfather and or mother may have been Portuguese, Dutch or maybe even English.   My cousins are of a similar hue.  Anyway, I immediately notice her season one Downton Abbey boxset and wall of books.  I immediately feel at home.

I need to stop sensoring myself when I write and just write what I am thinking.  I am getting very rested at the moment and watching a lot of girly television.  As such, I have had time to muse on a few things.  Feel sorry for myself appropriately.  So I have come to some conclusions.  One, I am twenty six years old and I am unhappy.  Not deeply unhappy, no…. not depressed unhappy, no sir.  Not so unhappy that I am unable to function at work or in social scenarios.  Maybe that means that I am not so much unhappy as dissatisfied with where I am and what I am doing and how I am.  I just did the math and I realized that I haven’t been in a relationship in 8 years.  Then I was told it was a bad idea and good girls didn’t get into trouble with boys.  Good girls concentrated on the future and all it had to offer.  It was a fun and clandestine time I admit.  I had just returned from been surrounded by very posh, very tall, very white boys and had to ease myself into being attracted to gentlemen of my own ilk. 

 He made it easy.  He was a pest.  I was peacefully minding my own business but he insisted on talking to me at the most in opportune times.  I can keep a secret, my dears.  I can keep a secret.  I reckon I was initially asexual to aforementioned chap and listened and kept secrets about his girlfriend and other scrapes he may have gotten himself into.  I remember not owning a mobile phone but somehow racking up a lot of hours of received calls. Mostly entirely innocent.  For I am a good listener; and taking a year out to ‘travel’ etc.  in truth, the year was to plug the gap between being seventeen and being eighteen before medical school.  So as I was saying, we became slowly inseparable.  If a new coffee shop opened, we just had to go, we saw the same shows, he liked drawing comics, and I liked reading them.  I hid my growing attraction to him under sarcasm and wit, never being one to take what I want with both hands.  His girlfriend I remember was an interesting number, I don’t think we ever really spoke to each other.  She was taller, fairer, had much larger frontal appendages and in all honesty oozed the sort of raw sex appeal that meant that she never lacked suitors.  He led me to believe that theirs was a mutual understanding that was physical and not much else.  I hummed and nodded in acquiescence.   Their love affair ended after some rumors of cheating I think, and with that came the obligatory hand holding and cheering up. 

  I may have forgotten to mentioned that he popped by on his way home from an internship he did a couple of blocks from my house on a near daily basis.  And with mother at her new job… the coast was clear.  So on one of these days when I was tinkling at the piano he hovered a little close, and I ignored him.  Then he insisted on playing chopsticks and I feigned amazement (to anyone who has had piano lessons from the age of 3, chopsticks is the equivalent of white noise).  I abandoned the piano and decided to make myself comfortable on the couch.  I can’t remember what we were talking about on that couch but he decided that chat could not say what needed to be said and kissed me.  Curiosity made me give it another go, and then another.  Then it occurred to me that I knew all his bad habits when it came to girls and I stopped abruptly and led him to the balcony for a clarification of things.  He admitted to feeling very strongly about me but not thinking it was reciprocated.  I simply demanded monogamy of words and body, and once he agreed to that I agreed to see how things go.   I added a secrecy clause when I realized that my mother would not let him come to the house if she knew that I couldn’t keep my hands off him.  Our affair was halted by continental drift.  In the divorce he got the Americas and I got Europe.  T’was a fair settlement