Maybe this will make me blog more often. Needless to say this is just my opinion. I believe that people that moved back to Nigeria, have or had a good reason to do so.
Reason 1:
You can't tell your boss he stinks. Jokingly or not.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Lesson of life
As I walk through life:
I’ve learned that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I’ve learned that it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I’ve learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words, it may be the last time you see them.
I’ve learned that you can keep going long after you can’t.
I’ve learned that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel. Very true!
I’ve learned that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I’ve learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.
I’ve learned that heroes are people who do what has to be done, when it needs to be done, regardless of consequences.
I’ve learned that money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I’ve learned that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
I’ve learned that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you are down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I’ve learned that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
I’ve learned that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
I’ve learned that maturity has more to do with what types of experience you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthday’s you’ve celebrated.
I’ve learned that your family won’t always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people who you aren’t related to, can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren’t biological.
I’ve learned that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I’ve learned that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others, sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I’ve learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I’ve learned that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, doesn’t mean they do.
I’ve learned that we don’t have to change friends, if we understand that friends change.
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.
I’ve learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I’ve learned that your life can be changed in a matter of minutes, by people who don’t even know you.
I’ve learned that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.
I’ve learned that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
I’ve learned that the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
I’ve learned that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I’ve learned that it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I’ve learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words, it may be the last time you see them.
I’ve learned that you can keep going long after you can’t.
I’ve learned that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel. Very true!
I’ve learned that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I’ve learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.
I’ve learned that heroes are people who do what has to be done, when it needs to be done, regardless of consequences.
I’ve learned that money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I’ve learned that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
I’ve learned that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you are down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I’ve learned that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
I’ve learned that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
I’ve learned that maturity has more to do with what types of experience you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthday’s you’ve celebrated.
I’ve learned that your family won’t always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people who you aren’t related to, can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren’t biological.
I’ve learned that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I’ve learned that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others, sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I’ve learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I’ve learned that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, doesn’t mean they do.
I’ve learned that we don’t have to change friends, if we understand that friends change.
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.
I’ve learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I’ve learned that your life can be changed in a matter of minutes, by people who don’t even know you.
I’ve learned that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.
I’ve learned that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
I’ve learned that the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Truth
Do we really like the truth? Really? Do we like knowing the truth? Or we just say it to make ourselves feel better. We have all heard the saying; the truth will/shall set you free. We also know the truth is usually bitter. So if truth is usually bitter, why would we want to know? I know I do not like bitter food or drinks, even though it might be healthy, I still don’t want to eat or drink it. So why do we like knowing the truth? Or why do we not like knowing the truth?
I believe the truth should be said at all time. Let’s have some examples, so a girl that weighs 175lbs puts on a top two sizes smaller. I mean, she is squeezing herself into this top. Now, she is your friend and she asks, how do I look in this? You know she looks ridiculous in it, do you go ahead and tell her that or you just smile and say, you look great? Now, let us put a new twist to this, this same girl has been trying to lose weight for about a year and you know she has been struggling to lose this weight. She is doing her best, though you think she could do more to lose the weight. Does that change your response? Do you really want to tell her the truth knowing it will hurt her or do you just lie your way out to make her feel good?
Another example, since I have started reading blogs, I have noticed a trend. Actually, it is not just blogging; I have noticed it in a lot of Nigerian forums/blogs. Someone writes something and you the reader strongly think that the person needs a slap on his/her face. You know that if you write the truth about how you feel, you might be labeled a hater. Heck, they might even start saying stuff about you. (I personally know a lot of bloggers and I have heard things). Now, do you just move along and not write a comment or you say, f it, I am going to say my mind. Ok, an example will help here. So I was reading a blog the other time, and this chic lied about something that was life-threatening. I personally did not think it was funny at all. I mean, I was livid like this was happening to me. Now, the first commentor on the blog, thought it was funny. His/her first word on the comment was LOL. Is she laughing because she thinks it is funny that someone just lied about something that could have killed another person or she is laughing because she is scared of speaking the truth? Did the writer write in her blog/diary so others can pat her in the back for a job well done, or she wrote to remind herself never to lie again? Reading the blog, I did not feel any kind of remorse from her. As a matter of fact, I think she doesn’t think there is anything wrong with what she did.
What is happening to our generation? Why is it so difficult to tell the truth? Why is it just so easy to lie? What happened to our conscience? Have we told so many lies, that we don’t even know how to tell the truth anymore? Or have we gotten away with a lot of lies, that we believe we can never be caught?
Here is one of my favorite sayings, if you will not tell me the truth, then don’t tell me at all. I am not a saint, but lying is one sin I find very hard to forgive. I believe you, I believe everything you say, I trust you, until you prove otherwise. I do not go snooping around to catch you in your lie, because I believe that the truth always, always, always come out at the end. You might think you are safe, but if it is something that I need to know and/or something that is life –threatening, then I will always find out.
Living and definitely loving my beautiful life. Won’t have it any other way!
I believe the truth should be said at all time. Let’s have some examples, so a girl that weighs 175lbs puts on a top two sizes smaller. I mean, she is squeezing herself into this top. Now, she is your friend and she asks, how do I look in this? You know she looks ridiculous in it, do you go ahead and tell her that or you just smile and say, you look great? Now, let us put a new twist to this, this same girl has been trying to lose weight for about a year and you know she has been struggling to lose this weight. She is doing her best, though you think she could do more to lose the weight. Does that change your response? Do you really want to tell her the truth knowing it will hurt her or do you just lie your way out to make her feel good?
Another example, since I have started reading blogs, I have noticed a trend. Actually, it is not just blogging; I have noticed it in a lot of Nigerian forums/blogs. Someone writes something and you the reader strongly think that the person needs a slap on his/her face. You know that if you write the truth about how you feel, you might be labeled a hater. Heck, they might even start saying stuff about you. (I personally know a lot of bloggers and I have heard things). Now, do you just move along and not write a comment or you say, f it, I am going to say my mind. Ok, an example will help here. So I was reading a blog the other time, and this chic lied about something that was life-threatening. I personally did not think it was funny at all. I mean, I was livid like this was happening to me. Now, the first commentor on the blog, thought it was funny. His/her first word on the comment was LOL. Is she laughing because she thinks it is funny that someone just lied about something that could have killed another person or she is laughing because she is scared of speaking the truth? Did the writer write in her blog/diary so others can pat her in the back for a job well done, or she wrote to remind herself never to lie again? Reading the blog, I did not feel any kind of remorse from her. As a matter of fact, I think she doesn’t think there is anything wrong with what she did.
What is happening to our generation? Why is it so difficult to tell the truth? Why is it just so easy to lie? What happened to our conscience? Have we told so many lies, that we don’t even know how to tell the truth anymore? Or have we gotten away with a lot of lies, that we believe we can never be caught?
Here is one of my favorite sayings, if you will not tell me the truth, then don’t tell me at all. I am not a saint, but lying is one sin I find very hard to forgive. I believe you, I believe everything you say, I trust you, until you prove otherwise. I do not go snooping around to catch you in your lie, because I believe that the truth always, always, always come out at the end. You might think you are safe, but if it is something that I need to know and/or something that is life –threatening, then I will always find out.
Living and definitely loving my beautiful life. Won’t have it any other way!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Rich and romantic?
Rich and romantic men
Men, those fine species of God creation! Let’s not lie to ourselves, ladies, we know how we feel when we have the attention of a fine man. Now, fine/handsome/good looking is relative. ‘Nuff said.
Anyone here saw the first episode of this season’s Bachelorette? Wow is all I can say. Never been a fan of white boys/men, but my o my! Those were some good looking men. If I wasn’t so in love with my culture, I will gladly go find me a white boy to date. Maybe date, but definitely not marry jare. I no want wahala.
That said, I have been noticing a new trend, Black/African ladies marrying white men. From my little research (if you can call it that sef), I seem to know more black/African men married to white women. Seems times are changing. I have no beef either way. I think us ladies are beginning to get really comfortable and realize that love can be found anywhere.
I have dated almost all the major races, Asian, Caucasian, Negro, and Hispanic. I have no problem dating outside of my race. As a matter of fact, it helps reaffirm my belief, that only a Nigerian man can be my husband. That said, I can say one thing that we all might have heard or read about over time, white men can/are romantic. I mean, someone practically worshipping you. Come on, who won’t feel on top of the world? It was weird in the beginning, because I do not think I am all that, but after a while, you get used to it. It is just the way they are. That is not to say, there ain’t crazy white men out there. Don’t get me wrong, Nigerian/African men can/are romantic as well. It just feels different. From a white man, it looks like he was born with it, from a black man, it looks like he is learning or trying. It just doesn’t feel the same.
That said, I love me my black men. Nigerian to be precise. No need to be sugarcoating things o jare. I am just too old to be politically correct. If you no like, no read, chikena.
Now there is another set of men that I have not been opportune to date yet. The ultra rich men. And by that, I mean men that actually worked to make their money. Not some governor’s son or some senator or some polithief. I mean, someone that did the work, used his brain, and he is bloody rich. Not a thosandanaire or someone that has to wake up and go to work at a specific time. I am talking about someone that goes to work when he wants to, doesn’t use drugs, and doesn’t throw his money everywhere, a simple, rich guy. I wonder on a scale of romance, where do these kinds of men fall? Are they equally as passionate with their women as they are with their job? Do they excel in relationships as much as they do their work? Do they take pride in their women? Just questions.
Anyways, enough of my rambling, I am sure in five years, I will come back here and be like, what the heck was I thinking writing this.
I had a totally different post in mind, but this just seemed appropriate after watching the bachelorette for the first time.
Like always, living and loving my awesomely delicious life!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Six months...
Wow it's been six months I posted. I have a post in my head. I'll be sure to post it tomorrow. Maybe I can be consistent in blogging. Seriously doubt that.
As always, living and definitely loving!
As always, living and definitely loving!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
34A? 34B? 34C?
Ok, I am officially fat. Yes, I said it, me, lepa shandy is officially an orobo. Ok here is the story:
I got to America some seven years ago. I jumped on the scale and I weighed 135lbs (61.3kg). The reason? I noticed how skinny people come to this country from Nigeria and in about 3 months, they become obese. I wanted to prove my fellow country people wrong. Actually, after about six months of being here, I had people asking me if I wasn't eating the American burger and the likes, cos I was still considered thin.
In college, I worked full time and took 22 credit hours. Now, to most Nigerians 22 credit hours aint nothing, but believe me 22 credit hours as a senior in engineering is no joke. Here, they expect you to spend at least 3 hrs every day on each class. I dropped down to 115lbs (52kg). That is extremely underweight for my height. I stand 5ft 11inches and I have medium bone. My BMI was so low, I had to start consuming more calories just to bring my weight up. After college in 2005, I gained about 5lbs. Then, I moved around a little bit. I did not like my job location, so I moved to another city. Now in the new city and I love my job and my house and all. Here is the problem, I am so in love with my job and all, that I have started to pack on the pounds. Right now, I weigh a whopping 149lbs (68kg), borderline 150lbs. See, I am fat. But therein lies the problem, everyone I know say I am still skinny. I mean, I have gained 15lbs since I got into this country. Now, the ideal weight for my height is about 155-165lbs. I know I still have a long way to get to that, but I am so not skinny!
Now to the title, the weight I have gained, have gone to the right places, if I can say so myself. When I started wearing bra, I started with a size 34A, then I increased it to a 34B now, my people, I wear a 34C. This is so not right. I have a lot of 34Bs, what will I do with them all? Tell me o. Cos I have some really nice 34Bs. Me, I will still squeeze inside them. Norring do me. The rest of the weight went to my butt. I mean, I work in a male dominated place and I could see the stares. It doesn't help that I am black too, in a white environment. I know someone that is not complaining about the booty sha, but me I am o. Now, I can't wear a skirt, without the thing sticking out. I have to even increase my clothe size from a 2/4 to now a 6 or 8, thanks to the booty.
Anyho, its all good. Now I have updated! I had to update, cos I read Oluwadee's blog and she was commenting about "undergarments" (that word just crack me up). What happens to underwear? Britico people never seem to amaze me.
Living and definitely loving. Nothing do you!
I got to America some seven years ago. I jumped on the scale and I weighed 135lbs (61.3kg). The reason? I noticed how skinny people come to this country from Nigeria and in about 3 months, they become obese. I wanted to prove my fellow country people wrong. Actually, after about six months of being here, I had people asking me if I wasn't eating the American burger and the likes, cos I was still considered thin.
In college, I worked full time and took 22 credit hours. Now, to most Nigerians 22 credit hours aint nothing, but believe me 22 credit hours as a senior in engineering is no joke. Here, they expect you to spend at least 3 hrs every day on each class. I dropped down to 115lbs (52kg). That is extremely underweight for my height. I stand 5ft 11inches and I have medium bone. My BMI was so low, I had to start consuming more calories just to bring my weight up. After college in 2005, I gained about 5lbs. Then, I moved around a little bit. I did not like my job location, so I moved to another city. Now in the new city and I love my job and my house and all. Here is the problem, I am so in love with my job and all, that I have started to pack on the pounds. Right now, I weigh a whopping 149lbs (68kg), borderline 150lbs. See, I am fat. But therein lies the problem, everyone I know say I am still skinny. I mean, I have gained 15lbs since I got into this country. Now, the ideal weight for my height is about 155-165lbs. I know I still have a long way to get to that, but I am so not skinny!
Now to the title, the weight I have gained, have gone to the right places, if I can say so myself. When I started wearing bra, I started with a size 34A, then I increased it to a 34B now, my people, I wear a 34C. This is so not right. I have a lot of 34Bs, what will I do with them all? Tell me o. Cos I have some really nice 34Bs. Me, I will still squeeze inside them. Norring do me. The rest of the weight went to my butt. I mean, I work in a male dominated place and I could see the stares. It doesn't help that I am black too, in a white environment. I know someone that is not complaining about the booty sha, but me I am o. Now, I can't wear a skirt, without the thing sticking out. I have to even increase my clothe size from a 2/4 to now a 6 or 8, thanks to the booty.
Anyho, its all good. Now I have updated! I had to update, cos I read Oluwadee's blog and she was commenting about "undergarments" (that word just crack me up). What happens to underwear? Britico people never seem to amaze me.
Living and definitely loving. Nothing do you!
Monday, September 29, 2008
To curse or not to curse?
I am so sorry for not updating. I am lazy, aint nothing new about that. Forgive me.
So, lets talk about the topic. To curse or not to curse? I am a great believer in cursing Nigerian politicians, up to their sixth generations. I refuse to make friends with kids of politicians. I know someone that I will never date. I told him, there is no way in hell I would date him, simply because his dad was/is a politician. I know how many people have rained curses on him. Even me sef, I have. So why on earth will I want to fi ori ko epe (collect curse for my head)?
Someone asked me how that is the politician’s fault. Ok, here is the scenario, as the governor of a state, you decided to steal all the money and put it in your account. You refused to pay civil servants their salaries. Now, a child is brought to the hospital, her parents both work for Ministry of Miserable, they haven’t been paid for six months. The hospital is not fully equipped and it took about 4 hours before they were acknowledged. At this point the child is dead. She died of common stomach ache. Now, who is at fault? The parents for wanting a treatment for their kid? The hospital staffs that were nowhere to be found? Or the governor that decided to better his life and the life of his family alone? If the parents rain curses on the governor and his six generations to come, are they justified? If they say, may the governor never know peace and may all the kids that are their kid’s age, die, are they justified? Probably. When you are in pain, and the pain could have been deviated, if something was done on time, you will definitely feel like cursing any and everybody that could have fixed that problem.
What we sow, we will surely reap. For all the kids that did not go to school, because your dad used the money to send you to school in America; for all the parents that could not afford food, because your mother used their salaries to get a tummy tuck; for all the young men that died from joining bad groups because they couldn’t get a job and have been unemployed for years. For all of these people that all they did was to be unfortunate to be born in Nigeria and your parents caused them agony, may your parents and the next six generations, know agony and may peace never reign in you abode.
So, lets talk about the topic. To curse or not to curse? I am a great believer in cursing Nigerian politicians, up to their sixth generations. I refuse to make friends with kids of politicians. I know someone that I will never date. I told him, there is no way in hell I would date him, simply because his dad was/is a politician. I know how many people have rained curses on him. Even me sef, I have. So why on earth will I want to fi ori ko epe (collect curse for my head)?
Someone asked me how that is the politician’s fault. Ok, here is the scenario, as the governor of a state, you decided to steal all the money and put it in your account. You refused to pay civil servants their salaries. Now, a child is brought to the hospital, her parents both work for Ministry of Miserable, they haven’t been paid for six months. The hospital is not fully equipped and it took about 4 hours before they were acknowledged. At this point the child is dead. She died of common stomach ache. Now, who is at fault? The parents for wanting a treatment for their kid? The hospital staffs that were nowhere to be found? Or the governor that decided to better his life and the life of his family alone? If the parents rain curses on the governor and his six generations to come, are they justified? If they say, may the governor never know peace and may all the kids that are their kid’s age, die, are they justified? Probably. When you are in pain, and the pain could have been deviated, if something was done on time, you will definitely feel like cursing any and everybody that could have fixed that problem.
What we sow, we will surely reap. For all the kids that did not go to school, because your dad used the money to send you to school in America; for all the parents that could not afford food, because your mother used their salaries to get a tummy tuck; for all the young men that died from joining bad groups because they couldn’t get a job and have been unemployed for years. For all of these people that all they did was to be unfortunate to be born in Nigeria and your parents caused them agony, may your parents and the next six generations, know agony and may peace never reign in you abode.
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