God Has A Crazy Sense Of Humor

Saturday: I attended a fab wedding @ Sheraton Hotel. I wore a burgandy evening gown. Hair done - almost, make-up flawless - I think, and feet hurting - definitely. The wedding was nice. Food was nicer. The music was the nicest. My mother was one of the people on the "high table." So there I was standing in front of the high table talking to my mom when one of the men on the high table interrupted my conversation with my mom.

Him: Hello, my dear, what is your name?
Me: Vera
Him: And how old is Vera?
Me: XX
Him: Oh, really? Well, Vera, I have a few friends that are looking for wives.
Me: *smiling....what was I supposed to say???*

Later on, I was sitting solo by my table, watching the guests dance when Mr. Wife Finder came and pulled me off my seat without notice or permission. My mother was at the high table laughing @ me; she could see the look on my face. This man put his hands on my waist and said, "Oh, baby girl, you can dance! You're so beautiful. I can't believe no one has married you yet." I just jejely removed his hands from my waist. So what was the problem with this man, you ask?

1. HE IS MARRIED
2. His wife was also present at the wedding.
3. When he was at the table interrupting my conversation with my mom, his wife was there. Not only was she there, but she was seated between him & my mom, so he had to literally stretch over his wife to talk to me.
4. He's not young. He couldn't be less than ten years younger than my father.
5. He's short. With my heels, I was taller than him (and I'm 5' 5")
6. His wife is wayyyyy taller than both of us. She had to be about 5' 11" (I was thinking to myself that this woman fit vex just knack our heads join together.)

The man was so fascinated by me that I was uncomfortable. Which kin yeye wife is he finding for his friend? Nonsense!

SUNDAY: I attended a huge graduation party. The celebrant graduated from med school. Awesome!! As usual, I went armed with my camera and dance steps. I was taking pictures when some man came to me and said, "I love the way you're doing what you're doing." I just assumed he was referring to my dancing because it would have been really lame if he was talking about the way I was taking pictures. Later on, he started asking me all those yeye questions... Are you Nigerian? Oh, really? What part of Nigeria? Oh, so do you speak Igbo?....blah blah blah. He went his way, only to return later while I was dancing alone. The thing about dancing alone is that it allows all these nuisances to bug ya. This man started dancing some moves ehn... hmmm. To say that I was embarrassed would be the understatement of the day. My facial expression obviously didn't hide it. Uju was laughing @ me. My mom was laughing @ me. My mother's friends were laughing @ me. Whew! When I couldn't take it anymore, I told him I had to go take more pictures. The problem?

1. He was old! He already had white hair sprouting from his eyebrows.
2. He was short. I was taller than him.
3. He could not dance to save his life.
4. He threw four dollars on me, and when the person picking the money attempted to pick up the $4, the man vexed ehn! Wetin sef? Na on top four dollars I go dey collect public embarrassment? Mba o.
5. He is probably married too. I have no proof. This is just a safe assumption, although his marital status didn't matter because he was a no-no!

Monday: I was having what was supposed to be a professional conversation with some African American guy. He told me he was getting married in February, and we were discussing his options for tuxedo rentals, colors, etc. Next thing, he interrupted me in the middle of my sentence to say, "I'm sorry for interrupting you, but you got such a pretty smile." That kinda caught me off guard, but I said thanks. Then he said, "You're so beautiful." At this point, my eyebrows were raised. Then he said, "I know I'm getting married soon and I shouldn't be flirting with you, but you're just so beautiful." I didn't know what to say, so I just kept saying "thanks." At the end of the conversation sha, he apologized for making me feel unconfortable. The problem with this dude?

1. He's almost married.
2. He's obviously prone to cheat.
3. He's probably cheating already with someone else.


Anyway, so I assume this is all the handwork of God. He must think I'm finding this funny. Well, in all honesty, I am. What other choice do I have??

P.S. On Sunday, June 8th, I attended the christening of Uju's handsome nephew, Jordan. I've been forgetting to mention that you can view the pictures at http://www.verastic.shutterfly.com/

Rockin' Da Cradle

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

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

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

Him: What book are you reading?

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

Him: So why do you have your laptop on?

Me: I'm supposed to be using it.

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

Me: Cause I have mine.

Him: But these ones are free.

Me: So is mine.

Him: Are you writing a paper?

Me: No

Him: Is it for school?

Me: No

Him: Are you in school?

Me: Yeah.

Him: What school?

Me: XXXXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX

Him: What are you taking up there?

Me: Psychology.

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

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

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

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

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

Me: No, not really.

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

Me: Sure.

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

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

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

Me: Cool.

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

Me: Okay.

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

Me: Cool.

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

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

Him: How old are you?

Me: I asked first.

Him: And I asked second.

Me: So answer first.

Him: Save the best for last.

Me: Tell me.

Him: How old do I look?

Me: Don't know.

Him: Guess.

Me: I'm bad at guessing.

Him: Practice.

Me: I did. Failed woefully @ it.

Him: I'm 18.

@ this point, I lowered my head in SHAME.

Him: Hold old are you?

Me: XX

Him: Cool.

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

Him: I know. I can do math.

Me: That's a lot of years.

Him: I know.

Me: You can do math.

Him: Yes. So what's up?

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

Him: Why not?

Me: I'm older than you.

Him: So?

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

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

Me: No.

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

Me: I know.

Him: I should have lied and said I was 21

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

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

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

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

Me: I didn't say that.

Him: So you can learn something from someone younger?

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

Him: Can we be friends?

Me: Sure.

Him: Will you call me?

Me: I'll think about it.

Him: When will you let me know?

Me: When I'm done thinking about it.

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

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

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

Me: Yes.

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

Me: I was going to. *lies*

Him: When?

Me: After this conversation *lies*

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

Me: You

Him: You didn't ask for my name.

Me: Was going to.

Him: When?

Me: After getting your number *lies*

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

Me: Vera *truth*

Him: Let me put my number in your phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kai.... my Verastic life!

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

Priceless!

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

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

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

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

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

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


This is a true life story...unfortunately

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Six Quirks About Me

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

The Rules:

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

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

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

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

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


Six Quirks Bout Me:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Birthday, Funmie!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My prayers for Funmi:

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

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

Happy Birthday! I love you to bits.

…Oya, start wishing my Funmi a happy birthday.

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

Does This Mean That I Am No Longer Anonymous??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shallom.