Yesterday was the perfect day.

The weather was just warm and toasty, I felt groggy and good after my morning cappuchino, I had a little change in my pocket, had this new linen shirt on, my best pair of jeans, and it was good to just have all that time to myself to drive, explore, stop by and view some art and just know I have nowhere to go but I am going to keep on going anyway. It's too beautiful to stay indoors. A perfect Sunday.

You would think a perfect day would lead to a perfect week. Not so, not from the feel of last night and today.

Last night my upstairs neighbor has a love affair with her TV and I can't get any sleep, I don't know if it's the double expresso or just CNN at 1AM that is making sleep seem so evasive.

I go to work, and there are a lot of issues. I am just not happy doing what I do. It is not the worse thing ever, and it's good money but I am always stuck thinking: so this is it, so what else, where can we go from here so we don't keep saying, yes sir, no sir for the rest of our adult life.

I have a high level of happiness attainment. It takes a great deal to get me happy or it could also be the simple things: the weather, the fact that I can enjoy a simple morning with expresso, a relaxed pair of jeans and just a gentle walk through the mall without bumping into mothers and children. Simple things. And then, there are the complicated things, like : I went to school for 6 years of my life, all that to end up as what, why don't I look forward to doing what I do, why do I feel like I am going to be blamed for every little mishap that happens.

It is an endless struggle, the search for profound long-lasting happiness. Sometimes, when I think I am so close, I just know those demons would just come visiting and then they'll wonder: are we being complacent with what we have here, what is it that we have that we are resting on our laurels for? What?

I just wished my perfect day would blend into the week. I wish I knew what would truly fill the hole in my heart and make my happiness seep through, become longer lasting, and just feel blissful, a radiated kinda bliss.

Yesterday while watching Wanda Sykes--whom I had just dreamt of the day before--she mentioned something about how she feels about aging. She said to combact the fear of aging, she has her mind set that she has not aged since she turned 26. For her that is a good age, a good time, an inbetween woman, lady, girl time. I just thought back and I just couldn't remember anything of consequence that occurred to me when I was 26. So I moved to America which was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. So I achieved the life long dream of living with her, and then I spent a whole year doing nothing. Not going to school, not producing, nothing. I just waited. I DO NOT want to be 26 again. It was the most inconsequential year of my life. And I hope and swear that 29 is not following right behind it.

The source of this hole is still unknown and I am sure in some aspects even God is puzzled by it. He is probably going: I give up. I give you America, give you the 9-5, give you your own apartment, a new car and still you're not happy. What is with you woman?

I do not know. A little more creativity perhaps. The chance to pick my own hours, a sense of adventure in my tasks, and a little trust in my abilities. Then, of course there's that power lunch factor that I've talked about incessantly. And Europe. I would love Europe. Just in case He is taking requests. And some of them are randonmly touched on below in my depraved wishlist.

I just want the choice to know I am climbing a ladder of adventure and opportunity and if at any point I don't see that in my immediate future I sink into this. I am a woman after all.

I won't dance

I saw The Rundown last night. Late Dinner and a movie that involves the Rock isn't a bad way to start off the weekend.

As for the movie, atmosphere of the theater would make it more enjoyable than it really is--but it's FUN. Action movies are not about the depth, senseless displays of machismo bravado. My definition.

Saw the Matrix Revolutions preview for the first time. I have to confess I am not one of the people who is counting down the days to see this one, even though I shall be first in line that day to see it. Reason: You have to turn down the keanu-ness at some point, I would see his movie either way, it's not about the matrix for me, you know.

But the preview looks good. I hope for their own good, that is the brothers, that they made some changes after the heavy-handed criticism they got from Reloaded. One has to yield to criticism somehow, sometime, it's what keeps the world revolutionary.

Now, I am speaking in tongues.

Under the Tuscan Sun awaits.

E! Online is doing an E! True Hollywood story of Keanu coming in the Fall.

Am I excited about it?

HECK YEAH!

A little perturbed though about some things that may be revealed, somehow I do not want to know that much about him, all those behind the scenes details that they uncover, may not be good. The element of mystery that shrouds him arouses me more. And I just do not see him as the kind that would sit in a chair and narrate some tales from his past. He just doesn't feel that "open" about himself. But I may be wrong. Nevertheless, I shall tape it and watch it over and over.

I went to see my oldest friend today. Everything about that visit was wrong, so wrong. I just felt inadequate and I felt she felt inadequate, she kept looking for stuff wrong with my life just so she could use it as her means to feel better about herself around me. Then, she went on and on about my car, how come it's new, let's see it. She made such a fuss about it I turned red. But I haven't changed, I don't feel like I am over and above anyone because I have a new car and I live in my own apartment. I am still me. I don't want to be a proud person, I shall hate myself if I ever turn that way, and you don't have to feel inadequate around me because this is not the pinnacle of me. This is just 10%, there is more I hope for and I know with the Lord watching over me, it shall come to be. But to feel defensive, inert jealousy, and just inadequate around me is cutting it a bit too early.

After a very uncomfortable conversation which lasted about 30 minutes, she looked into my car and said: (Big sigh) the only thing missing from your car is a baby seat. A husband and then, that baby seat in the back.

She doesn't even know me and that just makes me sad. I wasted my time thinking I had a friend who understood me. After 18 years, she doesn't even know me.

I trust we shall still talk and she shall still make a big deal about where I am now, and maybe she may shed a tear or two about it. But as she does so am I...because this is just 10%, a lot more could be possible and hopefully shall come to be. I shall shed a tear hoping I don't lose what I have whilst I gently climb the ladder, with my eye on the prize egging it on to the top.

Here's to a good week, God's blessings and protection and His loving kindness in my life, keeping me grounded and Peaceful.

Strangely I was thinking of Ke today. Whilst eating alone I found myself thinking about him. I wondered if he enjoyed it or if in some way he's getting sick of it as much as I am now, 9 months to 30. I was eating a bowl of pasta with that tomata basil sauce and garlic bread, and I remembered he liked to eat that because someone's sighted him eating that twice. I just thought, why? Because it's the kind of food you just want to dig into and you don't want someone else sitting on the other end of the table staring you down and it's just a feel-good feeling to sit and slurp by yourself.

To myself I just said a quiet prayer thinking: If you get what you want and what you want is not really what's good for you, maybe that's what 's wrong with this whole picture. Don't you think?

Is there a time I am not thinking about him?

YES.

It may seem uncanny because I always talk about it when I do and it seems to take over every entry in here sickening you all. But there are some moments when it's not even what's on the menu. This week for instance. When I am at work and it is so fucking hard, I never stop to think about him. Or when I am thinking of what in the heck am I going to do to this life of mine to get the career I want, I dont include him at all in those kinda thoughts. Those are realistic future planning thoughts and I must concentrate. He is not realism, more like a fantasy, escape, childishness, stupidity, obsession, and then more stupidity.

I just wish it could stop. You wish that one day you wake up and that heartache and continous longing would have stopped. And everyday you wake up and it's still the same feeling. That whatever it is feeling?

Whatever it is...

I am getting kinda sick of being by myself?

How about you?

I'd rather

I'd rather be you...with your impressive smirk, seductive stare, strong like the foosteps of an ox, brave just as one who dares to walk in front of it. Perverse, as if it were the order of the day. I'd rather be you any time of the day.

I started a creative writing class on Wednesday. I now I have a reknowned respect for housewives and their writing skills. It is a lot better than mine, me, the world traveller, dreamer, imaginary artist. I was at a loss for words to just sit there and give them my words. It is so hard to write under compulsion, as if you are put on the spot and some of us don't do too well with that. I have to be inebriated or high on Keanu before I can put something reasonable down. But compared to what they've been writing I now know what's been missing in my work:

I have not been writing with my five senses.

What are you talking about Anita? What five senses? I don't even know what they are...I don't feel my words the way people do. She said, instead of saying: It was strong.
Say: It was strong as, compare it to the strongest thing you know, that way the reader feels how strong it is.

I don't see or feel it when I write. I just write it down, more like a narrative. It is not as expressive as they would expect it to be.

Anyway, enough about me. Even though this is my journal.

It's been ho-hum lately. One minute I am high on myself, and the next minute something just brings me down and I am crawling, picking up my jaw from the ground. I feel that way right now. I heard that is the best time to write and since I haven't been infront of this thing all week, I decided to try my hand at something but it will be hard to write it and "feel" it per se. It's hard enough just to write it.

I didn't go the gym. I feel really bad. It is not too late though.

MY wish list

I am feeling depraved tonight so I thought a wish list would alleviate my suppressed pain.

I wish I had a British Accent. People say I have one but I know they are just ignorant. A real British accent would have better inflections and pronunce better than I have when I talk.

I wish I could enjoy a slice of chocolate cake, the thick kind with a cup of steaming cappuchino without wondering how many calories this is costing me. Not for any special reasons, just because it's Wednesday and I want to sit and enjoy a cuppa filled with some sugar before I continue the day.

I wish I grew up with rich parents who could afford to send me to Ivy league schools and tendered to my every want.

I wish I could unearth that one idea that would lead to the one book or script that would elevate me from mediocre standards to superb fabulous standards, to written in history books as the one hit wonder from Nigeria.

I wish I could take walks to the cafe, sit outside in my slippers and eat breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Drink a lager no matter what day or time of the day it is and just laugh as I chat about the soccer league with a group of my true friends.

I wish I could call in sick from work. Just lay in and do nothing and not feel as if my job is in jeopardy. To feel at ease with the quality of work I am putting in and to work even harder for that coveted promotion.

I wish I had a job that took me places. Involved travel, banquets, luncheons with other staff from other jobs, involved so much more exchange of brain power.

I wish I had a boyfriend. Not because everyone is having one, But because I need someone to go over my day with, to stroll to the cafe or pub with, to eat buffets with, to curl up in front of the TV with while we talk about my family. So when people ask: are you seeing someone you say, yes, yes I am with a refreshed smirk on your face.

Keanu -ayyy

In my bookstore hopping, I read an article in US Weekly I think that said that Keanu ate alone on his birthday. It went sort of like this:

He was eating spaghetti alone in a corner booth in some restaurant on his birthday. Hefner, seated not too far away, offered him some playmates for company but he refused their company. He said, I just want to be by myself today.

This made me beam in an awe-filled way.

I always eat alone. Most times, on my birthday. As a matter of fact, I ate alone today, and yesterday. Sometimes, I enjoy it and sometimes I do not. Sometimes I need to. Today I did and yesterday I did not.

Something about that news just made me gasp.

There is a connection even if it is only in my imagination, there is one.

I guess that takes care of the girlfriend-in-a-red-bow theory that my sick head had concocted would take place on his birthday. Unless that already took place earlier that day and she was too exhausted from it to join him at the restaurant. Who knows? I wish I did.

Bookstore hopping

This weekend I decided to treat myself since my co-workers were under the impression that I do not treat myself during the weekend.

I have been bookstore hopping. Meaning, I go into a bookstore not meaning to buy anything but I just sit there and peruse their books and magazines, I read them to my hearts desire and then I leave feeling fulfilled like I've gotten a good dose of study to last me all day.

That is bookstore hopping. The surprising thing to me at first was the fact that no one stops you from reading those books for free, No one compels you to buy or bothers you at all. It is almost a sublime experience. A shopping experience without all the bother. It's amazing, and there are fellow geeks alike seated there perusing, free-reading just like you.

And you sort of map out what every person's interest is from the aisle they sit at, maybe scrawled on the floor or seated on the couch beside it. Me I do them all, except maybe self-help, cooking, biography those sort of human interest sections. I do them all. Thats why I can't take my computer with me because it wouldn't give me enough time to shuffle between the aisles.

The books I perused gave me the formatted brain power for my work. I remember asking myself: so many books get published everyday, good and bad, so why not add another "not so good" one to that mix? I read journals, one in particular that had sold 3 million copies, which to me wasn't so good made me consider publishing mine. But then, I gasped, I already have by putting it in here. I read "beach" books, of which Bridget Jones's Diary falls into that category. I read books on how to write which are really just some person's way of pretending to know the key to good written work when it's basically inspiration. Then, I passed by the banned books section: I never realized Lord of the Flies was a banned book. It was a must-read textbook in my literature class in high school. Why is it banned?

I shall do it some more perhaps tomorrow or next weekend. I spent at least 5 hours combined in 3 different bookstores, isn't that the darnedest thing? The foolish things that give me joy. But I see way too many people in there so I am sure they are enjoying the absorption it just as much as I am.

really!

An old friend of mine called yesterday wanting to know if I actually do fantasize about sex, men, and if I have any dirty secrets. I don't know how much of all that is in here, but I know I do talk about that a lot in my other journals, and occasionally in here.

I remember asking if that would be the one thing that would quell my perpetual anger and disdain at the world. I remember wondering that this was possibly the reason why my skin is so bad, and I have been breaking out uncontrollably because I haven't had sex in a while. It's a myth but it's true--breakouts occur in a sexual recession.

Funny that he should mention it because, a week ago, the day of the dollar stint of the Matrix Reloaded (I can't remember if I mentioned it in here. I didn't get to see it in IMAX instead I went to the Dollar Theater to see it, shows how cheap I can be) the guy that I went with, I don't know if he was offering sex or whatnot, but he asked me if I wanted sex, (or maybe he was wondering why I don't talk about it as much as I used to) I said No.

I don't really want it. I just feel like it would make me lose focus of what I really need to do with my life. When you start to have that kind of relationship-less sex, you lose control of your faculties cos sex takes over and all your mind goes to are: when will I see him again, what position should we indulge in today or what neat trick can I do to keep him permanently aroused? This is not all I really need to be thinking right now. I know where I wanna go and I know I have a whole lot of things to do. I just need to focus on that and not start the whole sex bit.

In other sex-related news, I had a dream last night that I was having one of those instructional sexual episodes with that guy Smith Jerrod--Samantha's hunk in Sex and the City. This is funny cos I dont really like him. He is a hunk alright. he has the goods, tight bud, six pack everything but he is just not my type, his eyes say nothing to me, and you know how I am about those eyes. But we were at it, and he was telling me ways he could turn me on, cradling my naked body with such masculine prowess and we were hiding this from Samantha. This was the plot to some Sex and the City spin-off show that he's on that he's the main star to, that was actually named The Smith Show.

I have lost my marbles.

major work

I did some major shopping for the apartment this weekend. I bought foodstuffs I didn't even know I needed, kept asking myself, so why are you getting all this stuff, then I remembered that I hadn't really shopped for stuff for about a month now. I had been trying to save money by only shopping for stuff I really needed. This time I bought needs, wants, maybe's, future use, everything.

I also did some cleaning, seems like that's what I spend my Sundays on these days cleaning and cooking. I moved into my own home and I have turned into a housewife, instead of exploring all those adventures I wanted to but felt my sisters home was acting as sort of a hindrance for me. I spend my weekends, cooking and cleaning, what does that say about me? My aunt actually tried to talk me out of cleaning every weekend by telling me that I loved alone so I really shouldn't be worried about how good or bad my home looked, and for a while it worked. I neglected to clean for about 2 weeks, I spent my weekend writing, and doing my hair. But when I looked at the place I felt like it was going to shit, I was asking myself: why are you letting this place go to shit, you spent a lot of money trying to make it look eclectic, now you're going to let it go to shit because you're too lazy to clean. And so the cleaning lady in me was awakened.

Grocery shopping. Cooking. Cleaning.

This is my weekend. Toss worrying into that and it's a nice stew.

I don't mind some of those, the only part about cleaning I can't stand is scrubbing my bathroom. I hate that to a T. If I could afford it I would hire a cleaning lady to clean only the bath, wash my pots and pans, and scrub the top of the gas cooker, and that would be it. The rest of the work: straightening, picking up after yourself, dusting, everything else I can manage. The scrubbing of the bath has to be the absolute worst bit. I try to console myself that I am working on my arm muscles when I scrub in a circular motion but then, I could get that from lifting weights. To think when I lived with my sister I used to do that twice. Twice. For my bathroom and theirs. She hated to scrub theirs so suddenly it became my job. Hmmm...if only she knew how much I hated doing that stuff.

A maid should be put in the budget.

To the week ahead:

I pray that all my worries and fears for this week shall be evaporated by His holy hand. I pray that He helps me do this new job and to carry it out with zeal and excellence, and a lot of patience. I pray for my mum on this grandparents day, I ask you that you keep her in good health, make her strong and protect her from all dangers. I ask that you keep her going to see me become what you shall make me. I pray that you O Lord, shall make of me what is your wish, and I hope that my prayers are put into consideration at that time. I thank You for the blessings in my life, I hope I do not disappoint you or anyone else. These and more I ask of you O Lord. Amen.

where did the weekend go?

I saw The Good Girl yesterday. It was one of those movies that made you think perhaps someone had been paying attention to your heart, to your thoughts and probably, to your journal. So much it reflected my feelings, the will to run away, to adventure and to escape reality.

The basis of it was good enough, when the "lover" started to crazy, I sort of lost interest. But I loved her soliloquy, next time I'd tape it and watch it my dark hours--which are plenty if you've been paying attention.

The weekend is over. Whenever it starts on Friday you feel invincible, like the 2 days of now work is just too wonderful and you can't wait to make use of all that me time. By Saturday night, you wonder what you've done with the first half of it so far. I woke up early today because I wanted to finish up the work I started but couldn't get to do over the week because I was training and being trained. I got to work at least 2 hours earlier on a Satuday, that is I swear the hardest thing to do. This "promotion" is turning me into the person who just quit.

I do not know why I am not one of those people who looks forward to going into work. Are there people like that, or is it my imagination, I am sure in some fraction of this earth, there are people who feel like spending countless hours at work and just can't wait to get into the swing of things day after day, week after week, year after year. They actually do not believe they get paid to do what they do, it is that much fun. I am not one of those people.

This is not me being ungrateful for what I have, it's just me being pressured to be good at what I do which is the complete opposite of me so because of that I do not feel like me, thus I dread being this other person day after day, week after week, year after year. In Pretense.

I am going to search for some amusement on the web, at least I still have 24 hours to be this Anita, let me make the best of it as I can.

rave, yave

The raise was $2000 more.

It's a lot more responsibility and it means I have to start getting to work at least 30 minutes earlier than everybody else. But the $110 more per month that the raise comes out to (after taxes)is something I so need right now. I've already upgraded my cable service in celebration of it. Now, I don't have to feel the pinch everytime I pay rent.

Also I just got a $2.50 check from AOL.

And my boss took us out to lunch for a final farewell to the girl that's leaving. After 5 years, she leaves for another job, that is sad.

So *clinks glasses* here's to me hoping I don't fuck this up.

and so it comes to an end

Tomorrow is the last day for the girl who's leaving our firm to work for the courts. And tomorrow is the last day she will get to spend training me. And then, it shall start: the beginning of some long hard frustrating time.

I feel as if God is testing my patience and tolerance level to sort of reward me with something in the future. I hate to be bothered with certain things. Phone calls that distract you and attorneys that fail to look through a file and prefer to call you and ask what's contained in it. I have a short temper about those kinda things, and I always say to myself, switch anita off and put on, someone else, the most sublime person you can think of. But then, something boils inside me because I can't let anita loose to run free, the enraged person that she is. But this "promotion" with more responsibility is just God's way of telling me that you can become this calmer person, if you tried, tried really had. You can be patient, and so much more tolerable of people's shortcomings and that with Him I can overcome it all.

Flashback to today at work. My boss is scared that I may not be able to handle the new position. The other attorney the one who drives me crazy with her incessant phone calls is telling my boss and the girl that's leaving that I should curb my short temper because she is prepared to continue calling me every five minutes whether I like it or not. It's a never ending game with them. I am just not in the mood to lose my mind because of it.

I try to tell myself that I should probably remove my brain with a spoon and let someone eat the contents of it which are bad and tasteless while the good bits are refried and condensed into a somewhat palatable composition. I try to let myself know that this is me, and the bits of me that are evaporating are the parts that I need not be. However, is this who I am? Will it turn me into someone else?

I am so much of an inward person. I like to escape into myself and consult with my thoughts, and my excessive imagination. I know that because I could not live with my sister and her kids because they required my exposure from that shell. I fear that I might not be able to handle this new job because I might not want to face life outside that shell. The role is continous, and I am contstantly accepting challenges that I am faced with, I deny them when I find that I can exist comfortably without them.

This one I cannot. I need this job. I need the extra money--possibly $500 if I know who my boss is--and I need to maintain a normal existence. In the meantime my inward self shall search for a position as a writer, something that calls for my introvertedness and lack of self-expose.

dynamic

A lot of scintillating things have happened. Scintilating is a nice word, but these things are more like dynamic. A lot of dynamic things have happened to me. I read my journal and my scribbles from this time last year. I was just about to put in an entry lamenting about my job and how hard it is to control my self at my job and those whiny clients and then I read about myself last year and so much of me has changed and so much of me is still the same.

1) On Ke's birthday I wrote that I had a special wet/day dream about him.

This year I wrote an expose on why I like him

2) I was enrolled in my paralegal class.

This year, I am working as a paralegal.

3) I didn't want 28 to turn to 29 without seeking a way to live this life and going the extra mile at living this life.

We all know, 28 turned to 29 and well, I am still here, I have not written or have no bright ideas about the script or whatnot I shall write that shall get me the one-hit wonder of which I seek.

4) I am still single. Does that ever change?

There were other issues too such as my incessant car problem, my wish to be left alone and various other things. All these have been solved dynamically within the first half of this year. I often do this, that is read up on my old self just to make sure that I am making some kind of progress or to figure out where was my head at by this time last year. Where was it?

I didn't write this evening. I normally lack the will to during the week no matter how hard I try. I read about myself. I often read about my self(old entries in my journals) or read my old work and figure out a way of changing facets in it. I do not read other people's work online. I read books and I read magazines articles a lot. But I do not read fan fiction online at all. I find it so hard to. In fact it is not one of my strongest hobbies. I get drained of imagination and inspiration when I read them. No offense to the other writers but it is just to different and confusing for me to try and deprive pleasure from reading about someone else's imagination or daydream.

These are my hobbies. Me, me, and more me, a twist of Ke and then, me too.

Go shorty, it's your birthday!

Life feels good all of sudden so much that I am almost scared to admit it.

First off, today is Ke's 39th birthday and I was so nervous about it - don't ask me why. I've been nervous about it for the past week. Please ask my psyche why. The love I have for that man makes me sick. But we all know that signed, sealed and registered by now.

Anyway, I hoped that today would turn out all good for me likewise. However, traffic was the biggest bummer ever getting to work.

I was swearing in traffic saying Ke you better hope I have a good day on my end cos' I am sure you're having a good day wherever the fuck you are.

I get to work about 3 minutes to time and then, my boss comes in and tells me she wants me to handle the stuff the girl leaving next week has been handling, and that if I do, she will give me a somewhat "small" increase in pay. I know it's only about 500 dollars knowing what a miser my boss is, but anything is good enough for me, and besides the stuff I handle now, I always get cursed out for it so this would reduce the curses and heartache I get on my end and transfer it to the new guy. Good start, right!

An hour later, the computer guy comes and gets me my new computer revamped with Windows XP. I have a new laser printer and I got my new furniture that makes me feel so good.

So I am good.

All I need is to celebrate 40 with Ke next year and I am set for life. If only that would be, but we'll see. Miracles do happen!

His birthday tomorrow

For his birthday tomorrow, I just thought I'd put up my favorite Ke pictures. And then this, it's an article I wrote an ode to my obsessions, I started off writing this earlier today before my one dollar stint at the Matrix Reloaded (the dark version)theater but then blogger chewed the page up and I was left with nothing. So instead I put it hidden somewhere for very few readers to know about my craziness. So happy birthday to him and I hope the woman in his life got him that red bow I talked about earlier and several other things, mostly I hope she made him smile. Cos' that's important just as well.