Negro Aftermath Revelations

I've learnt a lot about myself in the past 6 days since the event that ruined my Christmas aka, the Aftermath with Negro.

When Trouble/Salt happened, I came on this blog and assessed my thoughts and findings after having to sit with the news that weekend. This week was Christmas. I thought I was going to have a very Merry Christmas, albeit by myself but I thought, somehow, Cupid, understanding that I am by myself would make My Love want to be with me...at Christmas. Instead it was a cruel turn. 

No matter, I survived the season with the news and with myself. As the weekend comes to a close these are my findings:

1. That your guy friends are there for a reason. They are much better than girlfriends. They have become my rock. They are not your friends to get under your pants or to take advantage of you. They are there to give you that male support that you've been lacking, to protect you from Negroes such as these, to hold you when you can't go on. I have come to love and appreciate them more this season and I thank God that they are and will always be a part of my life. 

2. That you should write down what's working and not working in every relationship, be it a casual affair, sexual affair, fling, whatnot. If the only thing working is sex (unless it's a sexual affair), then you need to have your priorities straightened because we are not in our 20's anymore Anita and I am not Madonna (in all her sexual liberation). 

3. Once again, I should be with people who value being with me, spending time with me, talking to me and not stay with them just because they're cute because if they are not Keanu cute, really how cute can they be?

4. Once again, if a man argues with you....well...I don't know, you take that anywhere you want to. This is the first second man that's ever argued with me. This time I think he's a passionate man, just not passionate for me. He's a volatile man and I should have known better considering we've had quite a few toxic arguments so...what does it say about me that I always seem to fall for the guys that argue with women?  What can I say, I love passion. I just wish the anger had translated into passionate sex. 

  

5. That when praying, you should pray for your enemies, even the ones who've deliberately hurt you.  This is always a tough one. I keep wondering why God asks us to forgive our enemies and then He makes our enemies cross us in the worst possible way. It hurts more when the hurt comes from someone you considered a friend, your lover, a part of you, your insides. It's like being slapped in the face. I just pray that "my enemy" sorts out what's going on his life and God touches him enough to want to ask for forgiveness for hurting mine. 

6. Once again, I really should let God figure out who's path belongs together. As He says, let thy will be done. Crazy, everyone knows this one, but sometimes it's hard to accept this in some situations. I thought there was some sign in the stars to the fact that we both exist in this space and time and are single and in need of love. I thought God was trying to tell us something. I over read it. It was really all bullshit. I was trying to make my 25 year old mistake right in my 40's. It doesn't work that way.  

7. That alcohol does not solve everything. You may think it does but it doesn't. This one was weird for me because I've always trusted my 40 degree proof "good friends" to get me through every problem but this time I didn't even go to them because the hurt cut too deep. Instead I relied on exercise, yoga, and the words. I had to dig into my words to find some meaning to my chaos. I was advising myself from the past and I didn't even know it. 

8. That in the heat of anger, you should try to be the bigger person and control your anger. This is so hard. Who are we but for our rage, our passion? I am as passionate as I am angry. Anger is passion. I love as much as I hate. I love uncontrollably and when that is betrayed I just feel like you trampled on something that could have been yours...for life, why would you do that? Every day I ask God for the strength not to be angry...so I fail. This time I failed big time. 

9. That there are really some problems you shouldn't share with people, especially on Facebook where everyone is so vapid. You should learn to contain and compose yourself, seek Taylor Swift or any other woman who's had to "laugh at their pain" or turn it around for creative reasons. 

10. That action movies do have some type of consoling factor. I spent my Christmas tapping into my Jason Stathams, Keanu Reeves and Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and they have uplifted me a bit. Nothing like seeing someone bash someone's head in to get you feeling a little chipper. 

11. That children...are the light. The highpoint for me was meeting his child and that was just awesome. 

12. Most importantly, that when someone you think you love and laugh with tells you that all the laughter and the talks and the kisses and the tremendous sex never meant anything, that you guys "never dated" and you only had sex "a handful of times", hearing all that should kill you instantly. You shouldn't have to wake up day after day and continue with life like you didn't just hear that from your lover, like you, like a child, imagined all those moments. But you do....because when life hits you, you just have to learn how to keep hitting back. As Stallone said, "It's not how hard you get hit it's how you can get up each time you get hit"....(or something like that.)

I think as writers we get tested emotionally, more than others because we are tapped into that part of us that feels, unlike other people, and it's that part that produces the best stories and poetry about love, life, hope, trials and redemption.  

So I've learnt a lot about myself in the past 6 days. I don't know how long it will take to rebuild emotionally but I am trying. Maybe by this time next year I'll wonder what all the fuss was about, he's not even "Keanu cute". And if you're not Keanu cute or just as cool and sublime as he is, I really shouldn't be messing with you in the first place. 

I just hope the rebuilding occurs sooner rather than later and I don't disappoint myself by falling for his bullshit the 3rd time around. Just saying....I can be weak like that. But I do love passion. :-)

Party at Maison Fahrenheit

A good friend of mine extended an invitation to the grand opening party of Maison Fahrenheit, a new boutique hotel in Victoria Island. Maison Fahrenheit, conveniently located across from EKO Hotel and on Adetokunboh Ademola Street is just another entry into the vastly condensed Nigeria hotel/hospitality industry. Since the Nigerian market seems to be flooded with hotels, each one has to stand out with some distinction, some glitz, glam, some oomph to put you ahead of the competition and justify the N55000 starting rate.

I went just to see who had the balls to open across from EKO Hotel. 

As we arrived, dressed "red carpet ready" as the invitation instructed, we were greeted on the "purple carpet" by a lady who painstakingly pronounced the hotel's exquisite name in her best French accent. She greeted me and whisked me off to a table where I entered my name, business card and phone number for reasons that were not immediately explained to me. After the hassle to get there I was so ready for the bland glass of wine I was offered. 

Purple carpet

A couple of room tours later, with my very favorite being the WOW Room - a room decorated all in white (except for the rug) with a huge balcony, lovely flatscreen and espresso machine - we were then taken to the terrace lounge, on the 4th floor (I may be mistaken), this is where the party was at. 

Buffet

If you've ever been to Strip Atlanta, you'll instantly get deja vu euphoria as you party on their terrace. It was just so reminiscent of it, I was astonished. It had cabana seating, TV screens for the cabanas, sweeping views of the Lagos skyline, traffic and all, and of course music seeping from the speakers. The only thing missing, which Strip has, is an indoor area for dancing just in case you get tired of being enveloped by the external ambiance. 

There was food, champagne courtesy of Sliquors, pretentious Lagos crowd, and the international scene was modestly represented. I particularly enjoyed the white gentleman from God knows which country who decided to smoke without asking the ladies if the smoke was bothering us - classic gentleman. What country in the Western World can you smoke in a building? Nigeria needs to get on their no smoking laws, STAT. Specifically Maison Fahrenheit needs to update their fire insurance coverage.

Women smiled and did that thing where they don't greet each other but just sneakily access your outfit from afar. There were good looking young men everywhere, some so tasty I felt like packaging them in my purse as my Christmas present to myself, to be returned after the New Year. :-)

My Party Selfie

Detailed lobby ladies room

My friends and I looking greasy from all the food

Hallway 1

Hallway 2

Staircase

Everything in this hotel seems to have been detailed to perfection in an effort to stand out, to connote a certain modern, edgy style to attract the young hip selfie-obsessed crowd. No, Sir, this is not your grandpa's hotel. I figured that out as soon as I noticed the espresso machine and the black and white photos all through, from the lobby to the hallways and on every floor, especially the one of Adele. They want to attract a particular crowd of customer, as if to say, "Go to EKO Hotel for your business meetings and medical conferences, but come here for your drunken debauchery weekends and New Years Eve parties." 

Yes sir, we will. 

Marital Bliss?

Couples, please read closely this marital bliss analogy I’m about to present to you. 

Let’s say Michelle and Barack Obama (I consider them the ideal black couple so I use them very loosely here as an example) have agreed to host the Duchess of Yorkshire Pudding on the 14th of December. They agreed to this days ago, and they cannot cancel it. The Duchess of Yorkshire Pudding is so looking forward to being very nicely hosted by the fun-loving ideal couple, the Obamas. She’s worked out her outfit, talking points, reviewed the menu excitedly. They’ve promised that the evening would involve a nice grand tour of the white house, private tea and pictures with the couple and then, of course dinner with the couple and some of their closest friends. 

Come the morning of the 14th, Michelle and Barack have a little tiff over something quite trivial as say, breakfast. Michelle did not serve the buttered toast that Barack likes on Thursday mornings, instead she served pancakes, the tasteless whole wheat kind, and this really ticked Barack off. Barack remained pissed all damn day, through the afternoon and right up till it was time to greet the Duchess of Yorkshire Pudding, who had gotten so nicely dressed for the occasion. Let me see, in this scenario, will the Obamas cancel on the Duchess just because they started off the day with a tiff? Will Barack reflect his aggravation with the breakfast mixup on the Duchess of Yorkshire Pudding who has no idea (and really doesn’t care) about what happened between the Obamas on the morning of her visit? Or will he put on a brave front and a plastic smile and work through the visit as if nothing happened that morning? Toast, what toast? I know nothing of which you mean? I had a nice hearty breakfast of low-fat pancakes. That would be his response to any snooping journalists who may have gotten wind of the gossip. To the rest of the world, nothing like that occurred, and nothing like that should seem to have occurred. It's just breakfast not world (or in this case, household) peace that is in jeopardy so it is really not that serious. The couple would host the Duchess like the loving and adoring couple that they are, smiling and doting over her, and just showing genuine affection for each other unfazed and unbothered by the oh so unfortunate breakfast events. You see that’s how a pro model black couple does things - they never let the world see what's happening outside their bedroom. 

As a single gal if I'm asked to accompany you and your husband on a night out, whatever happened between you two that day or the day before that sex has not been able to resolve (yes, I am shallow and truly believe that sex is the cure to everything when a man is concerned) whatever that problem is, it is really not my problem. You agreed to welcome me as your guest and that’s what you’re going to do with a fake pleasant demeanor. You’re going to put on a fake smile, and a forced countenance and just going to have suppress your issues until me, the single guest, is gone. Then, you can get back to fighting, or biting over a simple screw up such as breakfast (or whatever odd thing couples fight over). 

Couples are supposed to encourage the single ones to get married not discourage us. Paint the picture of perfect marital bliss so we single ones can be overwhelmed by envy, so consumed by it that we are instantly swayed to committing ourselves to a life of eternal subjectivity to the first guy who hints at a proposal. Now you know why some of us celebrate the heck out of being single. 

But seriously, ladies, if you screw up your husband’s breakfast, those are occasions that call for a blow job. If he’s still mad after that then, it must have been one hell of a screw up. And men, it's just breakfast, so get over it! Next time you make breakfast for a change, how about that? But I guess if you're Barack that may pose a problem.

God Said Ha!

It's December. 

The last month in 2014. Today I thought of this movie based on a play titled, "And God Said Ha!", I just think it's appropriately fitting for this stage of my journey. It describes me, once living in Atlanta, and now, living in Lagos. Two places I once loathed and tried to run away from but God found it in His heart to send me right back to them. I, was once hopefully single in Atlanta, and now, I get to live (and spread the news about) the hopefully single life in Lagos. It's a bit daunting and unplanned, but God is saying Ha to this whole scheme as being part of His grand plan for me: Anita Writes. 

I can't pretend the move has been easy. There are days when I act normal and don't even remember that the Me in Atlanta is the same Me in Nigeria. And then there are days where I think I am on vacation in a new (somewhat strange) city and one day my vacation will be over and I'll be back in Atlanta (or some other place I am more familiar with) and then, there are some days I am accepting, when I think it is what it is, and I sit back and think, "This is the same Anita and there is a point to all this, you just have to sit back and accept it for what it is." A Story in Anita Writes Journey. 

Because this is December and of course, the last month of the year, I shall celebrate my life in pictures. Some of the best pictures from my former life (in Atlanta) that represent who Anita Writes was, and shall continue to be in her new (God-given) location.

Lagos, Get Ready!

I believe we should all stay connected to our joys and try as much as possible not to "disconnect" from that which brings us joy. So whenever we can find joy, whatever we can do to tap into it we should find that connect, that oneness to the thing that helps us stay sane, that helps us stay...joyful. 

So stay joyful, hopeful, and peaceful this December (holiday season) my Singletons. 

The Art Finale

I had the honor of being invited to this fabulous art competition grand finale event organized by the African Artists Foundation. I received the invite (also via email) right after I attended the Etisalat iParty, not sure if they're connected but I'm glad they thought of me. I love Art. I love the Civic Centre even more. I pass it almost every day and wonder, hmm..."I'd like to go to there." Well, wonder no more, dear girl because you are. After living a couple of blocks from the Atlanta Civic Center (at one point), Fabulous Fox Theater and my favorite hideaway where I used to sneak into free book readings and talks, the Atlanta Woodruff Arts Centre, it's a thrill to see a Civic Centre in my hometown Lagos. 

I would like to tell you all about the event, my interactions and musings with the artistic eclectic crowd, except I don't remember it. I wasn't wasted or exhausted (well, slightly just) I was just late. Very Late. I arrived 10 minutes before the event ended. Why, you ask? Well, this is one of those times where I say going solo is a lot better, you get to arrive to events on time. 

Since The Civic Centre is such a swanky place, I was ashamed of arriving to it via taxi. I just wanted to be accompanied, arrive in style as if I know something, you know. Not a good move especially for an enthusiastic soloist like myself. It wouldn't have made a difference really, I don't know why I was thinking so small. My date/ride arrived to pick me up a hefty 2 hours after start time (yes, Sistas these Negroes have no respect for time), by the time we got there, parked and crossed the busy intersection, the event was damn near over. 5 minutes later, the winners were posing with their prizes and we were left perusing the art with beers in hand while the organizers packed up the chairs. Color me pissed!

I leave you now with glimpses of my evening captured in pictures. But trust me these pictures don't do the art justice. To me all the artists were all winners, they all presented great pieces, they were all truly talented. It takes a lot to get your mind to that place where it elevates, transcends pedestrian imagination and results in creating truly awesome pieces. Some of us strive for it but never achieve it and some do and express it effortlessly through writings, exhibitions, any flamboyant expressionisms, however, they can get it across, it's always an honor to share your crazy thought process with the world and have them appreciate it. To the artists, I'd say excellent job and keep it up!!

The Civic Centre

Instructional piece

Snapshot of the trendy art crowd

Winner explaining his motivation - yea, ok, like he was sober. 

My absolutely favorite piece sculpted in glass. Awesome breasts, love, love them. 

Visual of Lagos

More Visuals

Me asking why didn't I come solo. Color Me Pissed!

Musings with beer in hand.

Etisalat Launches iPhone 6

Got invited to my very first Nigerian event. Yes, I got an invite in my email, a "You are cordially invited to…" and I felt so honored that I RSVP'd almost immediately.

Etisalat was hosting a launch party, an iParty, for the iPhone 6. Yes, that iPhone 6 that's been out for ages. Well, Nigeria just got a hold of it and it was courtesy of Etisalat. The event was held at EKO Hotel, a few banquet halls from the photography competition I bumped into last month. I'll give a few nifty notes about the event because so much happened, so much and I have the giggly pictures to prove it.

First off, Etisalat did not negotiate an exclusive partnership with Apple for the iPhone 6. I found that to be a commercial misstep. I explained to the Apple tech the exclusivity deal AT&T had brokered with the first iPhone that garnered AT&T lotsa subscribers just for the love of the iPhone. Etisalat had worked out a few kinks to get you to stay with their network (free 1.5GB of data, better coverage), but I just thought that wasn't enough leverage to position them competitively in the marketplace with the other networks and the fanatic iPhone fans. Also, the time lag between the official release of the iPhone 6 in America and its availability in Nigeria is just too much. Back in the day, owning an iPhone 3 days after release would make you seem stale/uncool in front of all the cool kids, let alone 6 weeks after its release. Nevertheless, Etisalat was excited about having the iPhone 6 and they threw one hell of a shindig to celebrate this feat.

Got there, and there was a check in table, which I expected since there was an invite email. Since I RSVPd, I didn't expect to wait more than a few moments. I thought wrong. The check in process was  to put it mildly, a "Hot Mess" only savored by the politeness of the hostesses. There was a list comprised of emails but my name was on it. There was also a separate list the ladies looked at on their computers, but no Anita. I had to eventually retrieve the email from my phone and present it to them to prove that I was indeed invited before they could check me in. Sending in an RSVP made no difference whatsoever, they worked off email addresses that were compiled through God knows where and they just sat around their table looking confused as to why the compiled list didn't hold all the names.  It was not a good way to greet your guests, to have them jump through loopholes (in the Naija heat no doubt) to get into a party you invited them to. I shook it off and went inside destined to have a good time.

As they set up for the party we were kept in a nifty waiting room surrounded by iPhones on display, set up similar to an Apple store with Apple technicians available to explain the brand and pricing. This gave people a chance to check out the merchandise and decide if it was a good value - at a whopping N132,000, not really. It made me miss getting a new phone courtesy of a phone plan.

Fruit juices were passed round. Yep, fruit punch, pineapple, orange, mango, different fruit drinks and soda/minerals. NO ALCOHOL!!!!! I was beside myself. They have got to be kidding. They had a whole bunch of adults mingling after work drinking soda and fruit drinks like kids. They even gave us glow sticks like we were going to some sort of rave. All that and no alcohol. Not a Good Look. This quickly brought the energy level down as we all stood there discussing the iPhones and sipping our fruity drinks. Some used it as an opportunity to network/schmooze while I used it to perfect my selfie pose. 

I was still biting until one of the event planners explained that they were pacing themselves for the main event. Indeed they were because things kicked up a few notches, more like octaves, once we got inside for the live events, live music, two DJs, strobe lighting, and plenty of liquor - Champagne, cognac, white and red wine flowed in copious amounts. It was like a free for all. Alcohol and live music made all the difference plus it was a crowd that had their volumes significantly lowered in the waiting room. Folks were just itching to get into something. The entertainment that was lined up was fantastic very energetic, contemporary and fresh. Yemi Alade, some hip hop dancers, a comedian. It was very suited to the audience, colorful, hip and high tempo.

Etisalat knows how to throw a good party.

I sadly didn't win any of the prizes - an iPhone 6 and a Business class return trip from Abu Dhabi courtesy of Etihad Airways. But the guy I shared my invite with (Yes, I forwarded the email invite) won an iPhone 6. I guess I was his lucky charm.

Scenes from the waiting room

I captured the iPhone nestled btw my drinks and glow stick

One of many selfies. Getting better or no?

Main event stage

Packed room at the main event

Just love these little white couches we all sat in. LOVE

Dare Alade - Host on stage

Hip Hop dancers

White love seat. Careful don't spill the red wine.

Yemi Alade - spent the whole time staring at her thighs

On my way out I bumped into the Etisalat photography exhibit in one of the banquet halls - the event I covered in A Selfie in Time. There were a few new pictures and some of our old friends.

This piece I call - Anita Embracing her Awesomeness

This piece I call - Anita Overwhelmed by Lagos 

The pieces above are by Mary Sibande (Long Live the Dead Queen)

What we've been doing all night - Mastering the Selfie

The First Place winner. How evocative!!

Masked Woman asking "Sir, may I pour you a drink?" 

Our good friend, the Masked Woman, had included a few new pieces. This one I found...most scintillating! And yes, I just LOVE LOVE her breasts!!

Rave over. Time for bed

Awesome Event. Awesome time. Worth the taxi money. 

Single Gal Handyman

There are times when every single gal yells, screams and just shouts excessively in need for a man. And one such time is when she needs a handyman. Yes, a handyman. 

A handyman to change the bulbs, kill the roaches (at least understand that roaches do not kill you), put together the standing fan which surprisingly does not come just as is displayed in the showroom, put together the shoe rack, and understand how the heck we should set the thermostat on the AC. That and so much more. 

I have been able to do all these and much more by my lonesome self. I have to admit it was a lot easier in America because apartment living afforded me so many luxuries like not having to deal with changing a light bulb and unclogging the toilet. Apartment service facilities handled all those issues. All you had to do was make a phone call. But Nigeria living is not so glamorous. You pay for the apartment (casing) and nothing else, as-is doesn't even begin to describe it. The shredded mosquito nets, the holes in the walls (that let in the influx of cockroaches and lizards), the moldy walls and dead light bulbs all have to be handled by yours truly. At times you wonder, "So what did I really pay for because I don't get it....I have to do all this?"  

I put together my Binatone Standing fan, stopped halfway, asked for some help from a guy friend of mine and he balked, claiming he didn't have his trusty toolkit. Luckily for me my carpenter came in that day and saw the abandoned state of the fan and obliged with its completion. He remarked when I asked him how he knew I needed help, "Well, there are some areas where a man is just better." Hmm...that just hurt because I did go halfway. Offended by that, I started on my rechargeable (Andrakk) fan myself and it took me, hmm...4 weeks to put together. Granted some parts were missing and I swore to the folks at the store that they indeed were missing before they could provide me with the missing parts. But they kept doubting my intelligence (or my handiness) in the process. How do we know she has an idea what she's talking about? That doubt when confronted by a female trying to put together a machine that even males can't conquer. It's just so daunting all the little parts begging to be tied together. It's like an endless IKEA project. The last piece for now was my shoe rack which I had to put together by pretending my Frye boots heel was a hammer.

Albeit there are still holes to plug up, plumbers to negotiate with and of course, good ole' light bulbs to change. I'm just so overwhelmed. How do women do this alone? How can I, a single woman, handle all this alone? It saddens me that I have to be faced with all this. No matter, I have to shirk off this self doubt in myself and just summon up the gusto to do some by myself (which I have), or...hire a handyman to help me out. Because underneath my stainless steel exterior, I still have well manicured nails which bend, break and chip ever so slightly when I try to handle all this rough stuff myself. Men were created for some things - as a renowned feminist I hate to admit this - and handy work, rough stuff, lifting the heavy stuff, it's just them. I may try to do it and I have for the past 2 months because unfortunately all the men I know are just so much more prima donna than I am, but in doing these things I am exhausted. There's still so much more left to do. How do I keep the roaches permanently at bay? Who else would know how except a man? Who else would know the difference between gloss paint and luster paint? I don't. I don't even really care. Before now, it never even mattered to me. 

You may be so much more adept at going it alone in the real world, but in the rough stuff, the handy man work, try your best to do some but not all. You can put together a fan here and there, connect your electronics, set up your cable box, but please do not try to connect that ceiling fan or the chandelier you got at Shoprite. It's just too much. Let the men do it. Let them figure out why the roaches never stop their ingress. Because when it really gets down to it, this is what they are there for. We ladies are good at (and built for) doing so much more.

A Day at the Spa

Did something totally selfless and vain today that can only be enabled by my lack of employment. I spent the day at the beauty salon. I got a manicure, pedicure and a weave take down and reinstallation with some nice little tendrils for good measure. My African Sistas may refer to this as the "wig shaking" experience. Nothing feels quite as soothing as having a man massage and rub your feet for about an hour straight. 

Yes. It was a grand 6 hour experience.

I had to take care of my brand. My brand is comprised of my looks, my appearance, my countenance, my psyche and it needed tending to today. I took one hard look at my face in the mirror over the weekend and realized that even though I may be unemployed I am still alive and I am still me, and this me badly needs tending to. I can't be tired, haggard and unkempt - that is not a good look. That is not the image I want to project to the world - that it has beat me. Sacre Bleu! That had to change. You have to have nice hair even if you're still depressed! So I  decided to spend the day, a Monday no less, while the rest of the world was at work or school hating their lives, I spent it tending to me and my wellbeing.

It was exceptionally fulfilling, relaxing, exhilarating, a transient escapism from the forlorn reality of my unemployment. However, while I was immersed in that escapist world I refused to let that thought mar my experience. It was my day to be spoiled and I hopelessly and completely embraced every inch of it. I even capped it off by taking myself out for dinner - fresh catfish pepper soup and a glass of Chardonnay.

As I rejoin normalcy (aka real life) with its attendant lack of splendor I feel somewhat (temporarily) equipped, broke but psychologically and of course, aesthetically ready to handle the rejection letters and unreturned phone calls. The holidays are coming after all, I have to ensure that my brand is wrapped up in a big shiny red bow because, who knows what it might bring me - hoping it's a job.

Peace, love and warm hugs to all my singletons. Treat yourself because YOU are the best BRAND there is. 

The Green Sparkly Goblin in time for the Holidays

Yoga for...Better Sex

Flashback Friday and in line with my previous post in regard to trying something new, I recall my very first yoga session. 

Flashback Update to my very first yoga session:

One of my 2011 end of year promises was to try YOGA for the first time. And yesterday morning I got a chance to do just that. Like I said about these "promises", these are just items I've often wanted to do but never got around to, I just got distracted or lazy (or infatuated with a certain someone) but now with a clear mind, I want to do them, as a promise to me, yours truly.  

So, back to Yoga. Why Yoga you'd say, not boxing which I've been wanting to do, but more on that later. Well, from having sex (a lot!) this year, I realized that I am not as aware of my limbs as I would like, I want to be able to move flexibly in bed (and out of it) most importantly, to be feminine and elegant in seducing my lover whatever size I may be. What else will help you do that, except for Yoga. I mean, I do spin, aerobics, and kickboxing, but never done Yoga, so obviously my body needed to be aware of its limbs not only when it's lifting weights. In bed, where it's important (say this in a British accent and it's just brilliant).  

Back to Yoga on a Saturday morning after going out on a Friday night. Aaargh, torture! Not recommended. And I made the mistake of not informing the instructor that it was my first time so she kept coming to adjust my pose, and I kept muttering to myself, "Girl, I am still hungover, you need to back off me." But I made it. And my body hurts like shit. In the end, I coughed up that it was my first time and she asked me to try it again and hopefully my poses (or my "center" in Yoga speak) would be better, I hope?! Everyone in the class was so friendly and non-judgmental, I found that so pleasing, welcoming and encouraging especially for a beginner like myself. It was a nice way to start the Saturday, get the weekend rolling by tuning into your center, I would most certainly do it again. After that I treated myself to Brunch, because what else do you do on the weekends. 

A day later and I still hurt in places that I never knew could hurt. If I had a lover I would tell him I am taking the night off to recuperate. Will this help for my future lovemaking prowess? I am hoping it does, and I am willing to invest a couple more Saturday mornings to figure it out. So my next lover better beware, I'll be limber and fit, and he, he better be packing (just saying!)

Why Rust Unburnished

Anita's Trip down SF Golden Gate Bridge even tho she's scared of heights 

Video of my trip halfway up SF Golden Gate

I was thinking today about how many people are afraid to try something new.

Single, married, coupled up folks. They just live in their routine of abysmal events, looking like drones, choked by complaints of how utterly bored they are with their lives, instead of just going out and trying that new dish, restaurant or exercise routine to shake things up. 

A few nights ago, I spent the evening chatting with a guy friend I grew up with. I've known him since I was about 14, 15 years old, and now, here we are, both in our 40's and he's married with the 2.3 kids and I am not, having lived in 3 continents and amassed a wealth of knowledge as to what I expect from my life. He had an evening free so he accompanied me grocery shopping, came home took out the groceries, and just sat in my living room staring at me. Talking with him, I was concerned about his well being because growing up with him, he had more fire in his eyes. He was the guy everyone wanted to be around. Now as a married man, he just looked dead, like a drone dribbling monosyllables.  I asked him why married people in Nigeria all look bored out of their minds. He replied simply: There's nothing to do. With the kids, the job, there's not much you can do. Me, the baffled world traveller, adventurer suggested some things that could be done to shake things up, to hopefully get some life into this drone. 

Some of my suggestions included spending a weekend in a local city embracing the local culture, a "staycation" in the city in an upscale hotel for the weekend, or couples dinner parties where a different couple hosts a dinner party every month - no kids allowed. I didn't even mention my favorite things like go to a play, comedy show, wine tasting, an exhibit…because those seem more otherworldly (upscale, bourgeoisie) to the average Nigerian. I kept it simple and local hoping to appeal to him.  

That was not to be. He just shrugged and said: You must think you're abroad.  As if my suggestions had a location stamp to them. 

This just saddened me. His eyes looked dead, dead from boredom with his enthusiastic speech cut off and shortened to dribbles. I thought, surely I don't want to be like that when I grow up and get married. I don't want to be like that at all - married or not. Why do we let routine overtake our lives and make us slaves to it? Why do we blame the arrival of the kids for snuffing out our fun? They have their fun, why can't we find some type of excitement for ourselves while still keeping them entertained. I want to live and explore whatever is in front of me, as long as it's within my reach and not illegal. If it's available for the taking, it should be available to me. What's stopping me? I thought of that poem Ulysses where it says: To Seek Knowledge like the Setting Sun.

That's what I want until my last breath. I want that for you too.

Let us never be afraid to try new things, it's the very essence of our being. Why rust "unburnished"?

A Selfie in Time

Halfway through the boring bits at my EKO Hotel wedding last Saturday, I stepped to the lobby and by chance came across this photography exhibit sponsored by Etisalat. I was just thrilled to bits. My first wedding and my first exhibit, on the same night?! Shaping up to be a rather awesome evening. The positivity from the wedding flowed into my day.

The event, as expected, attracted a lot of "foreign" blood. The artists featured were also international, so of course such an upscale invite would reach out and appeal to them. I expected the art to be a bit demure and culturally authentic but to my dismay it was actually socially relevant and modern. There was even a Selfie competition and the 3 winners who were all fabulous were featured on the walls. 

Since I had stealthily stepped into their domain from my main event (wedding) I had very little time to spend with the art. Trust me, I just wanted to be enveloped in their presence. I was just so bummed I didn't know about it sooner, I could have spared myself some boring wedding speeches by just escaping into the photography. You all know how I feel about photos. 

There was one piece that spoke to me from a female artist. The passage that explained the artist's motivation and the haunting evocative (self!) portraits resonated with me so much that I just had to share. The artist pushed the (African) envelope by featuring herself in her most vulnerable state, and it wasn't self-deprecating, self-indulgent or gratuitous nudity. It was just a selfless, imaginative, provocative piece of art and I completely responded to it. 

The rest of the event in the short time I was there was well organized, modern and edgy, with the right type of crowd to give it a little oomph. I was so impressed with my home country. I added my name to their mailing list hoping to be informed of future events. If they boast of such cutting edge talent, bring it on.

Just Read This!

Everything about this passage that describes the Masked Woman pieces fully expresses the theme of this blog, of my life, of my journey.

"The Images Portray The Solitary Lifestyle of the "Super Femme-Fatale" Character choosing to achieve pleasure and contentment through self fulfillment that is not dictated by the subservient role as a house wife or defined through a man's affection."

"The series personifies a growing number of independent, professional women in Nigeria who at once assert their autonomy while also being ostracized by cultural norms."

How poignant! I was stunned as I read it. Hats Off to the Artist!

One of the Masked Woman Pieces.

Love the whimsical flavor of this piece.

This time - I'm a little "floored" by her breasts!

This is a piece I call - African Gay Parade

More fun looking breasts!

Awesome event, stimulating diverse pieces, well-organized sponsors, enlightened crowd. True pleasure to escape into all that art in my home country - good job Nigeria!