Words for the Second Half

sweet honey child

do not falter

don’t you dare fade

for your blessing lies

in the 2nd half of this here decade

Erotica with a side of Cheese

Spent the last 2 weeks following my birthday escaping the deplorable state of my existence by watching and re-watching the movie #365dni, and imbibing in copious amounts of hilarious fandom that it ignited. 

The memes. The critiques. The glamor. The cheese. The overall stupidity of it all. Sometimes it helps to distract yourself with some measure of stupidity that is so trivial that it not only instills some laughter but also inspires it’s own creativity. Found myself laughing out loud in my apartment alone so many times just remembering certain phrases from the movie, the memes they inspired, how ridiculous it all seemed, how we embraced that ridiculousness and wondering if it seemed so when they acted it. 

"I've order it and I am gonna determine when I see it." really?

"This is a telescopic tube..." Really, again? in your hotel room? how come? 

Keep thinking, someone sat somewhere and wrote this warped degenerative psycho hyper-sexualized story and someone somewhere thought it was worth investing money in to make a movie. I mean, I have more sensitive female attuned fan fiction sitting in my hard drive, should I revive them? Granted the inspiration for them is now in his late 50’s and so aged, but still? Am I missing something?

That being said, spent the last week as well, reading some of my fan-fiction stories and picking out some of the best phrases from it. Some of it I read without even knowing the outcome, read them like a fan as if it was the first time. But if they're gonna keep making cheesy eroticas that include "telescopic tubes," I will have to keep on writing in hopes that mine may one day make it to the big screen. 

Excerpt from Love is 30 - My lead character, Shelia turns 30. 

Sometimes I think I am being punished for some of the choices I made in the past, for some of the people I unintentionally hurt, for all the things that my outspoken self uttered without regard to the emotions of the listener. I find that as the years go by it is hard to achieve that stillness that is common with happiness. What is it that makes me truly happy and why have I been so unable to achieve it? As I move from one job to another, from one man to another, I find that, there is a search there, an unburnished taste for satisfaction, for a blissful rest in one’s life, and that state is so elusive, it behoves that my attitude and outlook on life is one of disappointment, bitterness, and just regret. I don’t have any constraints, I am bitter. I had assumed that it would be placed on my lap, or at least my instincts would lead me to it, and so far it has not. I am riddled with wrong choices in almost everything except my belief in the One that makes dreams, salient, unspoken, unspecific ones, come true. And even if I have to live another 30 more, and work another 30 more jobs, and people and places, I know that when that state comes I shall be lifted from my feet transcending to heaven’s bed. I just have to learn to surpass the bitterness on my way there. 

We Deserve a Little Nonsense - My 365 Days Movie review

Like every red-blooded female within the ages of 18 - 100, I spent the last couple of weeks in June watching and re-watching the Netflix movie #365dni (365 Days). 

Firstly, I watched it to satisfy my curiosity. Yes, my curiosity. There were some rumblings and gifs flying around my IG discover page so I thought, why not, we in quarantine anyway. Fell asleep during the first watch and couldn't make it through the entire movie that night. 

Days later, I browsed through it again, carefully re-watching certain scenes to try to fill in some blanks that I had missed during the first viewing but the several memes and gifs online had highlighted quite so elaborately. Internet just does not miss a beat, I can tell you that, every plot hole, catchphrase, d*ck slip had been analyzed and TikToked to bits. While they analyze rather scrupulously and create screenshots, some of us fall asleep and miss some essential aspects of a plot (if you can call it that). I don't care, it's not like I'll be quizzed on this later. 

Then, I watched it a 3rd time in its entirety as much as I could in one sitting without interruption. This was to reconcile all the material - think pieces, op-eds - I had read since my last watch with the actual viewing of the movie. In between the 2nd and 3rd viewing I did a lot of reading up on it. I just needed to know, what was this relative nonsensical movie and why was it taking over our conversation?

I use the term "nonsense" loosely because if you haven't seen the movie, at least know this, the plot is just derogatory, for lack of a better word. Granted we were not expecting Merchant Ivory or one of those classic subtitled European movies that sweeps the Oscars but still. 365 Days is a campy cheeky totally misogynistic take on love and sexual violence, that casts men as Alpha males set to arouse and win over submissive females. It's an European more daring version of Fifty Shades of Grey. If you've ever watched European movies you'll know that they do not shy from nudity and sex and are very open and expressive about it. So the entire boat scene, the spitting and ball shots did not faze me one bit, if anything I was rather underwhelmed. Have you ever seen Blue is the Warmest Color? I have...and that sh*t was intense.  However this was a version of erotica that was a bit subversive in regards to consent. It represented women poorly and was a bit embarrassing as a woman yet delightful to watch - at least several times. Kept wondering at which point did Laura (our heroine) go from "No, how dreadful I've been kidnapped," to naked showers with her kidnapper while ogling his genitals. Makes women seem so easy, so flaky.

With the deserved critique thrown at it, #365dni was still taking over our conversation and had soon become the topic of several blogs, Youtube reaction videos and dedicated fan pages, with some folks screaming for a sequel ASAP while others were politely petitioning Netflix to kindly take down this nonsense from their lineup. I was on the side of the former - and I will explain that later. 

I read up on how this story came to be. Whose warped idea was this? Written by a young Polish lady who was inspired by yep, you guessed it, 50 Shades of Grey. Maybe her twisted formulaic version. Actually a trilogy that was auctioned off to be turned into movies and this was just the first installment. How lucky were we that some more of this nonsense was to come our way soon enough?

Then the most interesting part of the movie. The Actors. 

Well, in particular, the lead actor - Michele Morrone. No offense to the female lead - Anna-Marie Sieklucka who put in her share of work and was just stunning. However, this Italian god...was there a casting call for this role? He took the world by storm with this one performance. So many brooding looks, gratuitous nudity, half-baked acting, broken English in parts, chiseled bone structure and a neck grabbing here and there, and me and all the other women were hooked. Where has this Italian god been? Totally deserving of the role. This movie took him from sheer obscurity to total stardom. He literally has people booking tickets to Italy once Corona is over in hopes they'll meet many like him. 

Browsed his IG page during my evening walk and scrolled down to his very first post about 5 years ago and worked my way up. Noticed that he kept at it. Then he had few followers and likes, most of them were his friends, fellow actors, few fans, but he didn't relent in his posts. He remained consistent. He would post a thirst trap here and there, every couple of days just to keep his (at the time non-existent) fan base updated. Pretty sure in those days no one remembered him. They must have thought this actor's dream was far-fetched but they supported him all the same. Nevertheless, he stayed the course. Stayed consistent. Sometimes that's the key.

Also noticed the humility in his tone when he announced the release of the project and he thanked, quite so humbly, the people he worked with for the opportunity. He must have been excited hoping everyone will see and like it. Then, of course, we did and all lost our shit, so to speak. It's always good to observe people when they're at that "stay humble, stay hungry" phase before stardom dismantles their sensibilities. He made me a fan and I will be watching this spot intently. Hope Hollywood comes a-knocking. 

Needless to say, I am strongly on the side of leaving 365dni on Netflix. I actually had a conniption one night before viewing No. 3 when I noticed that it was no longer on my list. I am glad it came along because life was getting a bit heavy. COVID19 on one hand ravaging the global economy, job losses, lockdown, resultant cabin fever, Black Lives Matter marches and protests and looting, police brutality continuing even in the midst of the protests, televised funerals for Corona and police brutality victims, racist statues coming down, radical changes being effected in companies to reflect much-needed diversity, so much heaviness, life was/is weighted. 

Leaning on this nonsense movie with the 2 gorgeous looking leads enjoying themselves on film represents a little lightness, distraction and I have to say, I am so here for that. I wish it had been released before my birthday would have been delightful viewing for my lockdown birthday tucked in with cake and wine, I can tell you that. 

Can you imagine being on the marketing team at Netflix that suggested that the world needed something light and fluffy to refresh from all the extremities it was going through. Some may have said No, opting for more informative content. But it took one Yes. Sometimes that's all you need. I am glad for that Yes. 

We need a little nonsense every once in awhile.  

Tribe Unknown

Years ago. 

In my carefree college days, met this guy by chance who was the sexiest most poetically attuned 'bad boy' I had ever met. He would read me his random notes of poetry right after sex. It was one of the most eye-opening exploratory personal experiences of my life. And his birthday just happened to be exactly 2 weeks after mine. I remember that. I remember him. I remember the sex + poetry + cigarettes (but they were mostly from him). 

Most of my love of literature and passion was inspired by that. By him. Our brief but passionate affair. It wasn't love. It was that one thing that "opens your eyes" transitions you from a Girl to Woman.

And to you who have read this far. Live your life to the fullest. Don't even hold back. Touch someone's life. Allow yourself to be touched. By an experience, an encounter, even just a conversation. Be open to... 

Random Possibilities.

An excerpt from a piece I wrote urging myself to start to see men differently. 

To all the men I’ve known, 

To all the men, I’ve loved, 

I’m so stupid to have fallen in love, 

Had I known, 

I would have chosen those, 

Who were true? 

I would have loved those 

Who were pure? 

I would have chosen to defect, 

From the Tribe Unknown.  

Anita Writes On Aging

In the spirit of my birthday today and trying to maintain some type of positivity and hope under the circumstances, what with Covid19, and slowly aging out of the job market, I have decided not to complain about anything today. 

I will instead share quotes that describe me as an individual, and most importantly, as a black woman. 

Sometimes in our quest to achieve that professional summit we sometimes loose ourselves and our identity and what matters most. These words remind me that I need to stay grounded to myself and always circle back to what matters most. Overall, no matter how overwhelming the events may be just remember that it is going to be alright. In the end. Truth shall prevail. And Justice shall rise even higher. Overall. We have to believe that it shall. It shall get better in the end. Even though now it's...

There must be some place along the route, a halfway house in time, where the runners may pause and ask themselves why they run, what is the prize and is it the prize they really want?  - From a Collection of Beauties by Miranda Otto

    

The most exciting, rewarding and significant relationship you'll ever have is the one you'll have with yourself.  - Sex and The City Finale

 

Be excited to become more aware of who you are. Keep surprising yourself, like a fine wine, keep getting better, and better. It's not about a number. Age is largely what goes on in your head. What matters most is what you do with your life. - Unknown.

 

And in my case, it isn't much, but there's always cake to make us feel better. 

Dress Credits from this Fabulous Occasion...

To Anita...On Her Forty-Faux Birthday

In the spirit of my Forty-Faux birthday and trying to summon some type of positivity and hope under the circumstances, what with #Covid19, and slowly aging out of the job market, and the race wars that are long overdue (our brothers and sisters on the front lines fighting for equality for us all) I have decided not to complain about anything today.

 

If you know me, you'll know that is no small feat. Instead, I'll share one of my favorite quotes by a Nigerian diaspora writer I admire who has spoken words that describe me as an individual, and most importantly, as an educated black woman. We go from hearing "You have no US experience" to hearing (in your own country) "You have no Nigerian experience." And it makes you assume that your vast experience, your international hustle, your having to rise above the "yes we have universities with actual books in Nigeria", all that subliminal racism thrown at you, all that doesn't matter. 

I once heard someone say: People are afraid of what they don't understand. That is true, for the ongoing race wars and for some of us fighting to make a way, a career, in our own country. We need to do better since we know better. But we're so full of ourselves and our so-called accomplishments to even care. 

Sometimes in our quest to achieve that professional summit we sometimes loose ourselves and our identity and what matters most. These words remind me that it is going to be alright. 

One day, they'll understand. And. Accept.

Because No One Likes You - My Baker Hughes Story

Every time I see this picture it reminds me of how I feel. Hopeless. Exhausted. Flummoxed. Exasperated. Like I've suddenly had the wind knocked out of me. Frustrated beyond belief. And generally unable to comprehend the current state of affairs. 

July would make it a year since I quit a job (where I was revered but underpaid) to join another job with what I assumed was a  formidable multi-national company ("Texas Multi-national") in hopes that it would elevate my career to extraordinary heights. Only said job just shy of my 90 days confirmation and a planned trip to London to meet and train with my manager (who has never been to Africa by the way) decided to let me go. Why? What type of company would do such a thing after making you quit a job? What type of manager would do that after listening to salacious stories from other male colleagues and not bother to verify their accuracy? Questions I presented to my manager. 

His response:

Simply because no one likes you. 

Why does no one like me?

 

Pray tell. Let us count the ways. Could it be because:

 

1. Like most Nigerian employers, they may have wanted someone much younger and a lot more naive. The first statement my HR rep said when he met me was, "My, you look rather young." Of course, I do. I apply my anti-aging face cream quite religiously. At first it didn't clue in as I've never had HR in a multi-national comment so expressly I might add on my age or looks!!! Never thought a US company would factor in my age in my job performance. But this Texas Multi-national was not run like no ordinary multinational with international labor standards.

 

2. I also asked that we kindly refrain from speaking Yoruba in the office like we're street hawkers in frigging Ojuelegba or Idumota. This is a Texas Multi-national for crying out loud, certain standards must be adhered to, plus English is the national language of Nigeria. It was so bad even the HR rep spoke Yoruba to his constituents who clearly outnumbered the non-Yoruba speaking staff. I even went as far as putting up a vernacular jar for anyone to put in every time they felt the need to speak Yoruba... ahem...vernacular in the office. Don't get me wrong I have nothing against a local language because I speak one myself. I just have a problem with speaking it in a workplace that has (or was supposed to have) different tribes and even nationalities. Speaking one language and making it the central language alienates members of other tribes, makes them feel as if they are not relevant, as if they're being discussed, as if this is not an inclusive environment. And in the end, it wasn't. It was an exclusive society made up of that ONE tribe, and that tribe dominated and bullied other tribes into submission, so not what a Texas Multi-national should represent in a diverse multicultural country such as...Nigeria. Talk about #DiversityandInclusion when the entire board, senior management and staff is dominated by members of just one tribe. Interesting...

3. Then, consequently I spoke up about the lack of parking. With barely 50 slots for about 500 staff you had to get to work between 5 -7am in order to get a spot. Even then, it was not guaranteed. You get in at 7:01am and security would tell you, too bad, so sad, try again tomorrow. The worst part is some folks will show up at 11am and STILL get a parking spot, how is that possible you might ask? A little something they call...Egunje. In no way was this pending frustration discussed with me at any time during the interview process or the non-existent on-boarding. Can you imagine anything more infuriating than going through rush hour traffic just to have to circle needlessly for a parking spot? What a waste of productive man-hours?

4. Then, of course there was the office seating arrangement. With a 3 months head start on my start date I was shocked to learn that Facilities and HR did not make any arrangements to assign me a designated desk. "Oh but we don't have designated desks over here, they're 'hot seats'." This explanation proffered to a professional who's worked in Atlanta for 14 years. Do you know the last time I started a job and did not have an assigned desk on my first day - 2005! Kept thinking if this was Texas would I have to deal with these housekeeping issues from a company of this size? 

I suppose items and 3 and 4 have been swiftly dealt with by the inevitable unprecedented rather exacting consequences of counteracting Corona. But still...I had to deal with these challenges and a multi-national could not manage its effects on a new employee. 

5. Most importantly, I aired my thoughts (rather loudly I presume) on how I would have preferred to work for the formidable holding company who had just relinquished their majority interest a mere month into my employment instead of this small needing-to-be-divested company. I made them feel less than so they thought they'd make me feel the same. However, anyone who's picked up a Forbes list or has observed the financial market and is aware of said holding company's value knows that there's simply no comparison to that holding company (that's been featured as the No. 1 company for several years) and this Texas Multi-national. It's like comparing Mozilla to Microsoft. Or Google to AskJeeves...Or Amazon to anyone else. You're a small fish in a big pond...deal with it. 

So I was asked to leave. All this because I spoke truth to power and called them out on their inefficiencies that rubbed certain people the wrong way. I hear people who speak up are usually marginalized and pushed back, called difficult, confrontational, you name it. In my case, I was called a wrong fit, translated to mean, "No one likes you."

Needless to say its been an arduous time trying to find work since this debacle. I thought I had a handle on things and I could pick my next job this time: ask the right questions, interview the companies properly, ascertain their work culture and environment and figure out how all of this fits into my career plans, try to determine where, what and whom I could work with - all those luxuries you want in a perfect career. 

Then, COVID19 occurred and global economies capsized and now I'm just the lawyer wondering, should I have sued them? Would it have been worth it? How do people get away with ruining someone's life, someone's carefully planned career like this? How do companies, multi-nationals, abuse labor laws that are existent in their country but deficient in mine? Don't they have international standards to adhere to? How, and why do companies abuse their right to terminate without cause, and how do they do this without repercussion, without fear of tarnishing their goodwill or their Corporate Social Responsibility? How does my Government, Local Content regulations, etc., still let such companies thrive? How do companies preach diversity and inclusion and yet turn around to fire you simply because you speak your truth, and that truth hits too close to home?

Most importantly, personally, how do I not look back but keep looking forward and try, so hard, to really concentrate on my recovery? Suddenly, I feel like John Wick when they killed his dog and he stewed in his anger and contemplated for a brief moment what to do to his attackers. 

Only in this moment, in my moment, what do I do? What can I do?

Meet Urna

Wanted to write a story. Story about a person (we’ll make her Female just because I’m the one telling the story) so a female person named Urna (that's an androgynous enough nondescript name).

Urna lives in a bubble. Constantly hibernating and spending countless hours indoors - watching movies, writing, working, being. And this hibernation would continue for countless periods of time. There was hardly if ever any coming and going of any person that was not Urna. She would seldom let artisans (electricians, plumbers, handymen) in her flat, even if they did she would let one person come in at a time, always taking off their shoes first. The only constant visitor was her cleaning lady and that was as infrequent as possible. She hardly ever had any visitors, male or female, or entertained friends or family. She was by all intents, a soloist. 

The kids in the neighborhood, her neighbors rarely saw Urna. They would only sight her on the way to the grocery store, on her way to work or church. Urna looked to be alone. And they thought that was sad. She spent so much time indoors. When she did go out, she would be seen wearing gloves, so as not to touch anything with her bare hands, and it would irk her so when folks would touch her groceries or any of her personal items, purse or the other, with their bare hands. She would politely ask that they wear gloves if they were to rifle through her things but they would consider this request quite absurd, a bold affront to their personal hygiene. 

It was not certain if Urna really had much use for people. She always stood a feet apart from everyone, not letting them stand too close or bump into her. She hated large crowds such as existed at parties, frou-frou weddings and unnecessary occasions and the foot or vehicle traffic. To manage this, she would intentionally go out on the quiet calm days, Sunday mornings preferably, when everyone was safely tucked away in church. On the occasions when she did go to church she would scour the hall to find a seat in the emptiest of pews, just so she could sit by herself for the Mass, and as the Mass occurred she would seemingly wonder why everyone chose to hug and shake hands enthusiastically at Mass instead of observing the pensive repose of worship. What was even odder is she knew some of these people didn’t particularly care for each other so why bother with the effusive greetings. After Mass, she would observe quiet moments of prayer and then, walk in a bee line straight to her car to make her onward journey back home. Not stopping to greet, hug or embrace any of the other parishioners. 

Professionally, Urna also longed to work fewer days in the office. She had asked her boss several times if her presence in the office was absolutely needed considering that she could do most of her work in the comfort of her home. Her boss vehemently declined, so much so that he even insisted that she not only be present at work every day but also arrive on time, 8am, considering any time thereafter as “late” and inexcusable.

Urna often found herself miserable in the office. It’s open office plan and confined seating arrangement which they thought was on "trend" and "modern" she found very limiting and constrictive. It would have about 40 employees seated side by side to each other sharing the same air space, unable to maintain at least a meter distance from the other. This made her very uncomfortable and inexplicably, violated. She could hear her work colleagues wheezing, sipping and chewing, thus signifying the proximity of their desks. She called the office environment “human sardines in a can.” To top it off, they would spend the first couple of hours of every work day hugging and greeting each other such as in church, except this time, they had just seen each other the day prior. 

Urna abhorred these social platitudes and often spoke against it. This caused her to be termed a “social pariah” and caused people at work to dislike her and consider her a wrong “fit” to their office camaraderie. At home, her reception was the same, the neighborhood thought she was simply “weird”. The gloves, the insistence to sit at home for hours on end, the frequent visits to the grocery store. Very antisocial, she had heard her neighbors whisper about her. One time they even saw her waiting outside for the grocery store to be a little emptier before she could walk in, creepy. 

As humans, we were made to bump, collide and intrude on each other’s spaces. We were made to reach out and hug and embrace each other warmly at every instance, church, work, grocery stores whether required or not. Urna did not appreciate or see the value in this, neither could she find satisfaction in it. If they chose to term her socially awkward so be it, she intended to maintain a certain level of social distance between her and the world, otherwise her personal space would be pierced and, ultimately, violated. 

And so Urna lived until the unprecedented events of COVID19 in 2020. 

_____

Set in 2018. This is socially distanced behavior in existence in 2018.  

Urna practiced socially distance behavior in 2018. While the rest of the world considered her awkward, wrong “fit”,  antisocial, too nit-picky, boujée, strange, she was simply maintaining her "social distancing from society's intent gaze." 

2020. This is now our new normal. A new normal some have embraced and fully celebrated. While others struggle to grasp life without human collision. Was she ahead of her time? Did she foresee the values of maintaining some measure of personal space? Are any of these socially distance practices going to survive the post-COVID world? Do you have any socially distance practices you observed before this hullabaloo that is now common practice in the face of COVID19?

Black Lives Has Joined The Chat

Persistent failure to fully grasp what is going on in the world. 

#2020... 

It's totally turned the world upside our heads. 

Internally I was going through my own struggles. 

Then #COVID19. 

#Lockdown - with it's crippling effect. 

#EconomicCollapse that ensued.

Now. #Racism reared its ugly head to join the conversation. 

As someone who's lived in #Atlanta I recognized racism but I didn't know what it was. Because I came from Africa where all of us are predominantly black, I didn't immediately identify what it was. Kept telling my sister, "These folks, they treat me different." And she made me think it was in my head. Knowing that Atlanta is in the South where racism has deep roots, if I had researched my history I would have understood the hand I was being dealt. But then, you always imagine that it's cause you're not exposed to the Western World and all its trimmings. That being your first sojourn outside Africa, you're just not used to how certain people, people that are not Africans, behave. 

It strangely felt somewhat like an externalization. I would go to bars and restaurants that catered to only white folk and my friends would ask me, why did I go there? It's not a black club/restaurant. I didn't know there were unspoken restrictions as to places you could go. My Nigerian self thought every business was open to every paying customer. But these businesses had their niche and I guess I wasn't one of them. You would literally be the only black patronising customer. They would insist on checking your ID and holding onto your credit card just so they ensure you don't run out on them. Even #tattoo parlors and artists would prefer not to tattoo a black person but I would ignore them. You could tell from their tone. They would recommend another black tattoo artist for you as if, that's the only person who could understand how to tattoo black skin. 

I simply chose to blank out this adult ignorance. Felt that as long as I had my good friends Mastercard, Visa and Amex - I was good. They should get over themselves. Coming from #Africa that's all that really matters - Money, Wealth, Power. That's why we worship money and Power - people in authority. But in the Western World, it's the color of your skin. In Africa, we deal with classicism and the ever existent tribalism (such as was chronicled in my post My BH Story) but in #America/Western world they deal with racism. 

Isn't that something? The societal disparities we all nurse in our tiny world.

Needless to say that I stand with everyone fighting for what seemed like it existed in my head. Now I feel seen. It explains somewhat why I came back to the Motherland - even though I don't quite understand it. 

In the end, we own this place. We need to remember this and claim this as loudly as possible.  

#Alllove #AnitaWrites #blacklivesmatter #blackpower #weshallovercome