The Artistic Hater

My name is Original Mgbeke, and I am a hater. Yup, I said it...I am a hater. I proudly hate on people and have absolutely no shame in my game. Now, let's not get it twisted...I'm not one of those catty ass anonymous haters that you will find on websites such as *ahem*...Linda Ikeji and co. Characters masquerading beneath anonymous masks and making all kinds of spiteful, evil comments about people. I strongly believe in the demarcation between criticism and crossing the line into spiteful, personal insults. For instance, if BellaNaija happened to put up a post on BankyW (one of the objects of my haterism), I wouldn't run up in the comment box talking about how he's such a trifling ho sleeping around the streets of Lagos (I just dey make scenario o, abeg no be from my mouth wey una hear say Fanta dey orange). Like how would his fictional trifling ho activities relate to the post at hand...? You get my drift...

So pretty much, I will proudly tell you that I'm a hater, but at the same time I will tell you that I'm an artistic hater. Ya know, I hate in such a way that you don't know that I'm hating :-D...don't side eye me, we all got some artistic hater in us.

Aniwoos, in no particular order...here is a list of random people, groups and things that I love to hate on:

1. Lagos folks: As y'all must know and have probably heard a million times, I'm a Porracourt babe true and true. Born and raised, and lived there for darn near all my life ('cept for some random relocations here and there). In general, PH people are known for being pretty down to earth, having no airs and what have you. Regardless of who your father is, everyone can mix and mingle without feeling like snobs/snubbed. Case in point, #nonamedroppingoranything, but back in PH me and my girls used to roll with the Rivers State Governor's daughter. Granted we met her when her pops was running for elections but still...pre, during and post election, nothing changed and she continued to mix and mingle with us lowly peasants. She also continued to mix and mingle with her high school folks from all backgrounds, and definitely stayed pretty down to earth (still is, actually). That's just an example of how PH folks roll. Sooooo based on that, I just can't get with how materialistic, superficial and shallow most Lagosians appear to be. Granted, all my Naija trips have been PH based and I haven't jammed Lagos in a minute but according to many (1st hand?) reports, Lagos folks are about 'who your father is', 'who you know', 'what circles you roll in' etc etc...which instantly gets the haterism from me 'cos I just can't do shallow fakeness. Oh and I've heard about how everyone and their mama has a British accent, and those darn air kisses sooo errr...Lagosians, by default I love to hate on y'all. Can't wait to land Naija one of these days and give all y'all the side eye...

*Not applicable to all Lagosians. If the shoe fits and things.

2. Queens College aka QC girls: Another of my favorite groups of people that I love to hate on. For a bunch of girls who attended a Federal Government Girls College, QC girls sure be acting like they are on that Vivian Fowler (which I actually hate on part time...matter of fact, I hate on all private schools) level. It's like we no dey hear word again o...every small thing is 'I'm a QC babe' or 'that's how we QC babes roll'. Abegi, y'all ain't that special o jare. One of my best friends is your typical QC babe, and I think that one of the very first things I said to her when we met was 'Oh, so you're one of those annoying QC girls'. Hahahaha, I wonder how we moved beyond that point... *chuckles*. That aside, a couple of my friends are QC girls but that still doesn't stop me from hating on the lot....*snicker*

3. Banky W: I love me some Mr. W's music, but I can't say that I'm a huge fan of the man, himself. I can't give you a specific reason why I love to hate on Banky W. I think it might have stemmed from a reunion back in the day, when he still lived in Yanks and was an up and coming artist. A friend of mine was trying to make friendly talk, nothing groupie-ish, and he just came across as feeling himself a lil too much. I definitely remember standing in the corner and eye-ing him up and down like 'hmmph, what is this one feeling like?'...and since then I've enjoyed hating on the man. However, one other thing that I love to hate on, other than Banky W himself is that perfectly lined beard of his. The thing drives me nuts...

I've vowed that one day I will get him drunk and knocked out, like that mean female did to Wande Coal, but as opposed to stripping Banky nekkid and broadcasting his nude pictures on Twitter, I will simply shave that beard off. Every single hair of it...

4. Pretty Girls: It's kinda sorta common knowledge that I love to hate on pretty girls. Now, when I say pretty girls, I mean those saccharine sweet types of pretty girls like Halle Berry, and not the 'I got spunk and seem like fun' types of pretty girls like Nia Long. Big difference. I'm definitely a hater of the former...like okay, you're pretty and then ?? What else is there to you? Do you have an interesting persona or are you just pretty for nothing? One day, I was so jobless that I actually conducted some kind of poll and determined that all the saccharine sweet kinda pretty girls truly seem to lack personality and the fun factor. What makes it even worse is that men drooooool over these types of girls because 'OMG, they are so pretty' and 'they are dimepieces'. So of course, I have to hate because unpretty girls like me who work hard to look good, also have the added burden of trying to have some sort of personality so that men will find us remotely attractive, while such dry pretty girls get all the men. Hmmph! I definitely have a valid reason to hate.

5. Men: It's no secret, I love to hate on the male species. In my opinion, most of these cats are just out to disturb the peace in women's lives and make a run for it. Plus, I feel like as the days pass, I hear more ridiculous stories that make me want to make drive through someone's son's house and bust his windows or slash his tires. Like seriously. I feel that the world would be a much simpler place if men dropped the bullshit act and kept it 100 with the females. Which one is two timing two women for 4 years, proposing to one, and totally hitting the other (unsuspecting) woman with an upset. Abi which is one is toasting a woman for months and then she finally agrees to show you face and everything is going well, then you suddenly go MIA. Y'all really on some bullshit. Reason #1234567 why yours truly is quite happy being single (apart from the fact that I don't fall into the pretty girl category..heeheee). Aniwoos, I won't waste too much breath on your menfolk, but just know that I definitely love love love to hate on y'all (in an understated and artistic way of course ;) ).

That's all that comes to mind for now...plus I'm tired. So, there you have it...my top 5 favorite list of things that I love to hate on. So it's like out there, ain't no shame in my game...Heehee.

With all that said,

Peace, Love and Goodnight

For the 5 people who care

I'm taking my first CPA section at the end of November (please keep me in your prayers). Based on that, I'll be taking a lil hiatus 'cos ya girl can't afford to dedicate X time to blogging + blogrounds... especially not, since I'm like freaking out in advance. Yeah yeah, I know that I don't blog much these days but I thought I'd notify y'all as opposed to being all rude and disappearing... :)

You can catch me on Twitter though ('cos I tweet from my phone when I'm usually on the go)...

Aniwoos, I shall be be back soon (I hope). In the meantime, keep it locked!

Peace & Love

Dear Future Husband

Before I proceed, I would like to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who commented on the previous post. Thanks so much for the birthday wishes, they were so much appreciated. I'm really trying to do better with responding to individual comments...forgive me for making this a general message of appreciation. And thank you too to the Anonymous commenter for the constructive criticism, it was duly noted. :-)

Moving on to today's post...from my general Tweet observation, I have noticed the TT called #Dearfuturehusband...and I figured I'd blog it in an entire post. Much as it seems that many people think of their wedding day and all, sometimes I gotta wonder if these people extend their line of thinking to marriage in it self, and the not so easy parts of it. Sometimes I find that folks in general can be so hard to deal with, talkless of living with one individual 24/7/365...that in itself, will really take a lesson in patience and what not. So in today's blog, I shall address my #Dearfuturehusband (if marriage is meant to be in my future), and give him a heads up that I'm not as perfect as he might think that I am...hehehe.

Dear Future Husband...

1. I realize that you might have met me at your bestfriend's wedding when I was looking my hottest, killing it with my MAC 'warpaint' and wearing the heck out of that dress. And then after that, every time that you saw me, I was looking like the flyest thing ever. But heads up in advance! I do NOT look anything close to remotely hot when I wake up in the mornings. I mean, can a sister catch a break? Even Halle Berry probably doesn't wake up looking like Halle Berry. Just wanted to let you know in advance, in case you wake up one morning and wonder who snuck into your room in the middle of the night, and replaced your wife with willie willie.

2. Ideally, you'd cook and I'd clean. It's not that I can't cook, I just gotta be in the mood to cook and sadly, the mood doesn't hit me as often as it hits some of my other female counterparts. But before you pop a nerve, remember that the key word is 'ideally'...I will do everything in my power to ensure that you and the kiddies are well fed, mood or not.

PS:- You'll definitely get a big side eye, if you expect me to do all the house work, or if you come home before me and don't start dinner...like the hell?

3. Please do not mistake my confrontational attitude for a nagging one. If you do something that ain't sit right with me, I will address it. If you don't want me to see red, resist from attributing it to nagging/me trying to start a fight. Or would you rather that I continue to bottle the ish up, and then one day explode on your unsuspecting ass? Oh and I will have you know that I don't do well with letting things slide, but I am attempting to work on that.

4. According to reports, I'm a very restless sleeper who is prone to tossing, turning, sniffing, sneezing and even snoring every now and then. I just hope that you're not a light one... :)

5. I've always been the kind of girl that just enjoys and loves her space. I'm a professional single who has spent more time being single than being in a relationship, so I tell ya...this marriage thing, and learning to live, deal and consider another being won't be easy. If I trip out, every now and then...please be patient.

6. Hopefully I'll get along with your family members...I will try my best. I will admit that I'm not good at the 'sucking up' game, and can sometimes adopt the 'love me or leave me' attitude, but this is your family so I will put more of an effort in. Now let's just hope that your mother and your sisters aren't of the irritating variety 'cos that'll be a case of #Nodeal.

7. I get very easily irritated, I can be quick to catch an attitude, and I have a sharp tongue...just a heads up.

8. Some of what I will be bringing to the table in our marriage will include a shitload of shoes, clothes, and accessories. Please don't judge me, if I stay coming home with more shopping bags or else I will be forced to be one of those married women who hides the shopping bags in the trunk of her car, and sneak 'em in when you're not home. :-D

9. I'm SCARED of the whole pregnancy, childbirth process. I really am. Can we just adopt some kids and call it a day? Think of the days that you'd be spared having to making midnight runs to the grocery store to get me the latest craving of the hour...

10. I can't promise to remain slim and trim along the course of our marriage (especially if you insist on putting me through the ordeal of popping kiddies out), and if I don't then ah well. You'd better continue loving me and thinking that I am the hottest thing ever, and if I ever catch your eye or other bodily parts wandering, I have my hot oil and frying pan on standby. Consider this a warning... *Saccharine sweet smile*

All that aside, I do promise to be the best wife that I can be, faults and all. And as for you, all that I ask or beg of thee is that you promise not to take a hatchet to me, when the going gets though. Cos babe, frankly speaking...all these reports of Nigerian men killing their wives is starting to be a bit disturbing. Oh, but on the flip side...it's been a whole bunch of Igbo men, and if I had my way, you wouldn't be Igbo...

Have a great week y'all!

PS:- I miss Blogsville o, I've just/still have a serious case of 'Blogger's block'.

A new year, a surprise party and an apology of some sorts...

On Saturday, I co-hosted a show with Verastic which some of you probably listened to. Topic was 'Do women really need men?'...to cut a very long story short, I and my co-host got into it. Now peoples, I realize when I'm wrong and when I step out of line and although hard to do, I will admit to it. I got a chance to listen to the show again, and if I had to chance to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. The only thing I apologize for is partially messing up the first quarter of poor Vera's show (although Nigerians too like drama, sha). I will say this for the millionth time, I do not and will not tolerate anyone telling me how I should feel about any situation in my life. That is what pushed my buttons. So, for the idiot that commented and called me uncouth and blamed it on 'American Radical Feminism', in my past life I would have called your mother an uncouth being, but I'm a changed woman now. Don't get out of hand and act like you know me, homie. Yes, I do not believe that women need men, so sue me.

So, there you have it. To Vera, again I apologize for that little bit of drama that popped off but I can't say that I will turn a blind eye to the next fool who tries to tell me how to feel about any situation in my life.

On to the main gist of the day...

I celebrated a birthday on August 3rd, 2010. Unlike most of the rest of the world, I really look forward to birthdays because I enjoy getting older. On the flip side, while I enjoy going for other people's birthday parties, I'm not the biggest fan of celebrating my own birthday. Left to me, I'd stay home and sleep.

For instance, when I turned 25...my friends literally talked me into hosting a simple birthday dinner. Such a far cry from the rest of the world who seemingly celebrated their big 25ths with 3 day events popping champagne, buying out the bars and hosting guests in the VIP sections of swanky clubs.

Sooo aniwoos on my actual birthday, my dear friend and homeskillet Ms. RoyalReigns and my ex-roomie took me out for a quiet dinner at a local lounge close to my hood. I enjoyed dinner with the two, as I received my lovely gifts and sipped too many glasses of wine.

We had discussed potential plans of going out the following weekend, but lately I've been in total chill mode/less in the mood to hit the scene so I fashied plans and in my mind, that was that...

Until yesterday night, after I dragged my tired feet in from a wedding reception accompanied by my other dear friend and homeskillet Tori (who was instrumental in the planning of the surprise party). I was just ready to get home, take my shoes off, wash off my makeup and chill and as I inserted the key into the look and entered my dark apartment...I saw cameras flashing, followed by a big shout of 'SUPRISEEEEE'.

Initially, I was scared to death and I ran back out of my apartment. I thought I was being mugged (I think the shouts of 'surprise' hadn't registered yet). Then I realized what was happening, ran back in, and saw all the dear people who had worked to put together this very wonderful surprise. Like, they TOTALLY got me, I sooo did not see it coming/have a clue and I was so overcome with emotion like OMG, they did this for lil ol' me? that yours truly, who hardly ever cries for anything started shedding tears.

My dear friend, and the wonderful Zizi of the Zizi Experience (The Zizi Experience)...key planner of the surprise party, went to great lengths to whip up a nice spread which included fried rice, jerk chicken, sausage rolls, scotch eggs, salad and a beautiful cake with mango icing. There was also lots of wine and sangria, and all in all I had such a great time. In retrospect, all I can do is thank God for things like this that make me feel so loved. I thank God for everyone who came through to surprise me including those that drove all the way down from New Jersey to do this. I'm thankful for everyone, and sooo grateful to everyone who made it happen and participated. Thank you guys so much, this truly meant the world to me. I was so so touched. :-) :-)

And while I'm thanking people, I gotta thank another homeskillet and dear friend Taynement for the birthday post and shoutouts. And thanks to RocNaija for the birthday wish in ze comment box! :-)

The end.

PS:- Got sucked into the Twitter craze. Ms. Royal Reigns made me do it, and no I won't abandon Blogger but I definitely tweet more often than I blog. Check me out here .

PPS:- For the 3 people who care, the shopping blog's been updated.

IbloginPidgin

E get some kain names wey you go just hope say your parents go spare you, as dem dey name you. Like in the previous post, I yarn say the Isioma babe don see me, the Ngulumu…and true talk, that is somebody’s name. I believe it originated from FGGC Abuloma a.k.a I blow Garri, where there was an Ngulumu Ohembe. Na so the name come carry go o, when you wan tok small thing, you go yarn say ‘shey you don see me…the Ngulumu’. Chai…abeg Ngulumu, if you dey read this/if you are Ngulumu’s cousin, this is absolutely nothing personal. Hahahaha...

Then e get this other babe wey go my school…let’s call her ‘Clementina Amanpour’…LOL. Na so her name come carry o, when you wan tasi pesin…you go kuku yarn say ‘See this Clementina Amanpour’ ooo….as in, pesin wey just dey claim anyhow i.e imagine a convo between Ricky Bobby and I, which goes like this:

Ricky Bobby:- Beyonce is my girlfriend

Mgbeke:- Hia! Who dash you? See this Clementina Amanpour o!

Sooo, speaking of names…the other day, pesin come ask me why I go by the name ‘Original Mgbeke’. I tell am say, I be Mgbeke na. Dem tok say they don’t see it. Abeg o, make the baffs no fool una o. In my heart of heart, I know say I be Mgbeke. The person asked me… 'what makes you razz?’ …

‘Do you wear shades in the club?’…I said no.

“Do you wear Gushy leathers (Gucci) + Prada logo together?’ …I said no.

“Do you act uncouth in public”…I said no.

“So what makes you razz then?’…I tok say me I no fit explain am, but I just know say I be razzo. Case in point: see as I don enter paragraph two of this post and na only pidgin wey I don blow since. Kai!

On to the pidgin topic, so I no think say I fit follow man wey dey too ‘Americanized’, like all those guys wey dem born and raise for Yankee. Or all those Lagos people wey dey feel too funky, as per dem go Atlantic Hall and their papa dey hold serious moni, and such steez. When man pikin wan get down with the get down and nack correct pidgin English, dem go dey look me laik say my mama no born me well. Abeg carry go. I need to everly be myself, yaoooming (you know what I mean?).

On the flip sha, I no fit follow pesin wey dey too razz/Igbotic/Yorubatic or whatever as per na me wey dey hol’ am down in those areas. There can only be one of us o jare!

Language wise, I have really been proactive about learning Igbo. I have picked up quite a bit of new stuff, and my friend has been so kind as to give me BBM Igbo lessons. Here is how it works: I give her a word in English, she types the Igbo translation on BBM and then I call her for 2 seconds and she pronounces it. Ah, this one don pass Rosetta Stone o! I need to hit her up with some new ones.

Then e get one bobo wey dey wink at me, and I come dey utilize his services too. But e be laik say I go NEXT am real soon, so that source go soon disappear. As in, make una no try o…next thing I will be posting in Igbo if the Pidgin never kill una finish. Hehehe.

Meanwoos how far all these bobos (Igbo bobos na the main culprits) wey dey meet you and in 5 mins, wanna know if you can cook? You kwa, can you buy me Gushi leathers? If you see it as a requirement that I cook, then it’s a requirement that you buy me Gushi leathers. The story no be long thing.

How una July 4th weekend shake na? As for me...I carried my fine legs to enter NYC to bubble and shuffle with awon babes. Not too much bubbling and shuffling dey involved sha, as per our bones don dey old small. I dey yarn my homeskillet how I just packed only 'indoor' baffs and she was like 'for real? not even a night of clubbing?'. The ting be say, clubbing don dey tire man pikin o jare. Na so so loud music, sweaty individuals bumping and grinding and men prowling the scene looking for their next prey. I have been officially bored with clubbing as of 2008, true story.

The weekend was nice sha sha. My homes hosted a cookout/BBQ on Saturday, and we pretty much chilled on Sunday, and had a jolly ol' picnic at Central Park on Monday. Good times.

Meanwoos I dey yarn some peeps say I dey enter NY for the weekend, and dem dey ask if na NRC Reunion, wey I wan waka go. Abeg make una take eye look me na, I look like pesin wey wan enter NRC Reunion? Na im I go enter and the pikins go tok say who be this old mama. This babe go the Comedy show and she come dey gist us say na so so fake lashes, long weave, and booty shorts wey just full the place. Abeg I no get strength to dey compete with such Sasha Fierces in training, LOL.

I con hear say Banky dey have some attitude because man pikin no hail am too much, apparently all the hailing was reserved for M.I. Abeg no be from my mouth wey una hear say Fanta dey orange ooooo. :-D...besides I no sabi if na accurate gist. #ameboruns

And on a final note (In Engrish :D ), I’ve really been scouting for new music so Amazon is like my new best friend. I’ve been in the mood to listen to a lot of albums, so lemme drop some album recommendations of stuff that I heard recently and really liked:

• Ultraviolet - Kid Sister: Okayyy, where has she been my whole life? I LOVE every single track on her album, true talk.

• The Archandroid - Janelle Monae: This album is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.
  
  
• Flesh tone - Kelis: I got the hookup about a week before I came out (release date is today). This is an awesome effort from Kelis. Album is filled with tons of dance beats that will leave you itching to jump out of your seat. If you're into dance/techno, you will definitely likey.
  

• Anjulie – I discovered her via Amazon, and I’m definitely digging her album.
  

• Intimacy - Bloc Party : I was reading my Nylon Magazine, and saw a feature on this guy named Kele Okereke who just came out with a solo album, said he was part of Bloc party so I did some research, and voila! Album is really good, and I like Kele's voice. I would like to sample his solo album.

• LMFAO - Party Rock : With a name like that, I just had to check it out. These guys are hilarious, the lyrics are fun and it's a generally fun album. Good road trip material, for when you are in a light mood.

That's all folks. Enjoy the rest of your week and here's to wishing y'all a very happy July.

PS:- For the 3 people who care, I am working on an update to the Retail Therapy blog.

If Isioma Uwueche is your girl...

...then get her abeg! Ah ah! The babe's plagiarism no get part 2 o...shiooooo. Na im I just dey denge and pose jejely with awon babes, I come tok say make I check my blackberry to see which latest emails I don gather. Na so one very lovely blogger (thank you sooo much, girl) emailed me and told me how she'd been perusing the web and saw this note on FaceBook. Wondered if I was the owner of the profile, but noticed that names and some details about the note had been changed. I come click on the link and saw the very marriage note that I just posted a couple of weeks ago, complete with name changes and all. I was like WTF?
It's one thing to copy my damn note without referencing/sourcing it...and another thing to copy the note and then try to modify details like you wrote it. Like, are you kidding me?
I don't consider myself to be an acclaimed writer or anything, and have no problem with people copying and pasting stuff that I write AS LONG AS you source it back to me.
So, I was going to jejely message her on some WTF levels but felt extra vexed that she actually went to great lengths to change details. So I'm finna call her ass out on here AND message her. Girl, if you are reading this note...take your time o! Before I show you say Khaki no be leather. Na so 419 dey start....nonsense and jagjagbantis.
So, I'm finna repost the note and highlight the changes that she made. Yeyerism to the highest degree!

Isioma Uwuechue: What can a gurl do? Life goes on my dear.....
Everyday you log onto FaceBook and what do you see waiting for you on your homepage?

‘Lisa has gone from being in a relationship to engaged’
‘Ann is now married’
‘Okon just put a ring on it'

If your homepage ain't giving you the gist, you are straight up hearing it from the horse’s mouth when the Lisa actually updates her status via her Blackberry for Facebook with ‘OMG, I’m engaged’. Or Anita is updating her status from her honeymoon, talking about ‘Chilling in Morocco with hubby, I’m so blessed and lucky to have him’.
Every So, you’re like crushed! I’m taking a FaceBook break because this oppression is too much but, you learn the hard way that you can run, but you can’t hide…for the very next day, your homegirl is calling to give you the 'latest gist'… ‘Omo, guess who don engage themselves ooo’. If your home girl ain't calling you, you're feeling the oppression every Sunday at church, when the Pastor stays announcing the latest engaged couples, and urging y'all to congratulate them, and pray for them. And if church isn't doing the work, all the millions of wedding websites that are circulating the internet, definitely hit home.

It doesn't help that you dated Amuohia for 6 years, and then he broke up with you on some 'baby, it's not you...it's me' and then turned around to quickly move on with some other chick, and propose to her after only 8 months of dating. You're like Okporoko nwoke madu! What did I do wrong? I cooked for him, cleaned for him, provided a listening ear, performed those thingy in bed, and played the wifey material role like I was supposed to, so what did she do differently, that I didn't? Chineke! He always told you that you were 'wifey', and a 'keeper'...but I guess actions speak louder than words. You're actually pissed off by the unfairness of the whole situation...after all you groomed him, primed him, prepped him and introduced him to your family and friends…only for him to pull the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’…and 8 months down the line, you stumble across his wedding website and you’re like what??? Imagine! Another babe dey enjoy the result of your hard work. Kai!
Matter of fact, it seems like all of a sudden you're hearing a whole bunch of those 'they dated for 8 months, and he proposed' type of stories, and you can't help thinking about all the men whom you dated for 2 +years, and they ain't say peep about marriage. But when you think harder, you realize that all of them are married, so it definitely wasn't them with the problem now. Could it be you? things that make you go hmmm...

You're kinda hoping that this marriage fever will pass, and all man will begin to hear word again but who dash monkey banana? Marriage season is here to stay, and somehow you've been left on the sidelines looking at those million wedding websites, FaceBook status updates, and feeling those random twinges of self pity because it seems like everyone else in the world is getting married, but YOU.
‘What’s wrong with me', you ask. ‘Why can’t I meet a correct bobo too?' I’m smart, educated (2 degrees and counting), pretty, can cook a mean isi-ewu and generally throw down in the kitchen, can cook it up in the bedroom as well, and come to think of it, all those ex-boyfriends of mine always complimented me and said that I was 'wifey material’.
You just can't seem to meet a decent bro. The dating scene is wack and the 'market' is very dry and drab looking. All the guys that you've met recently all seem to praise your greatness and tell you how awesome you are, and how you’re wifey material…but…they aren't looking for anything too serious, and just wanna be friends with benefits.
You're tired of playing these guessing games with men...he likes me, he likes me not. You just want some permanence o jare! Someone to call your own, so that you kwa can oppress other single ladies on FaceBook. Ah ah, e easy?
It doesn't help that all your married friends craftily tell you how men see their future wives, and instantly know that she's the one/after a few months of dating, they know that she is wifey, sooo you're definitely thinking that something is wrong with you.

You’re thinking ‘chai…30 dey approach ooo’ (since the memo went out, that 30 is the cut off age after which if you’re still not married, you should go and jump off a bridge). Your ‘juniors’ don marry and born pikin since. In fact, dem dey on their 3rd pikin now sef. Your mates dey rock matching aso-ebi with their husbands in church and/or weddings.
You officially hate going to weddings because all the boo'ed up women seem to clutch their boyfriends possessively while marking their territory, the married women seem to be very smug about their status, and when it’s time to catch the bouquet, your married friends give you that pitying smile and the nudge like ‘girl, abeg, try go catch the bouquet na’.
Everyone is asking ‘oh baby, why you dey single sef?...you need to put yourself out there, go out more, market yourself,be more social’…but they don’t know that if you do any more putting of self out there, na to run naked for street, remain.
You even start dreading running into your Aunts, because the subject of marriage always comes up and they give you all these suggestions, like you never try all d nkoroh joints my pekin. And let's not talk about your parents...

What’s a girl to do?

Do you continue to feel sorry for yourself? Maybe even drive by a couple of bridges n flyovers on your 29th birthday to determine which one you will jump off when 30 nack and ring no kukuma dey for hand?
Do you hang up all your mini skirts, shaba n abortion belts, in exchange for more Mary Amaka looking outfits, because ‘well behaved women and wifey material don’t hit the club no more’.
Do you join the church and become an usher, because rumor has it that all the good and God fearing single men full ground for church.
Do you hold off on buying that house that you’ve been eyeing or that Bentley, because your mother told you that men are intimidated by successful women?
I mean…girl, what are you going to do? Put your life on hold waiting for marriage to happen? Worry your pretty head about things that you can't control?
Truth of the matter is...you realize that you might get married, and you might not. It's all a game of fate + luck. So in the case of the latter, what's a girl gonna do? Hop off that bridge because life without marriage is a life not worth living?
But one day, like a bright shining light...it hits you and you jump up from your workshop in corporate Aba, feeling energized and ready to take on the world (your coworkers are alarmed but they will be fine). The light bulb goes off in your head and you suddenly know that you must continue to live life to the fullest and not worry about things that you can’t control. The dating scene is wack, and you're probably not going to meet a man at the wedding that you plan to attend next weekend, but so what?
The 'good' men are MIA (the women in Naija claim that the men are in Jand, the women in Jand say the men are in Yankee, everyone abroad thinks that they are in Isuikwuato, and the women in Isuikwuato give you the blank stare, and say that there are no men)…so really, where are those men hiding? Well, until that magical secret hiding place is discovered, you decide that you’re going to have fun with your girls (single or married), you're going to buy that Bentley... life is short, abi? You're going to travel more and experience more of life. You decide that you're not going to put your life on hold and worry your pretty head over the fact that there's no bling bling on your ring finger.
You say to yourself 'I'm not married yet, but so what?'. Life goes on.

The end.

I mean, I don't know if this is how they do it in Isikuwato but abeg next time source it back to my blog because as I type the blogpost finish, na energy wey I carry to write am. Abi you don see me the Ngulumu?

A word is enough for the wise.

The end.

PS:- Real blog post coming soon. :-p

You're not married yet...

Every day, you log onto FaceBook and what do you see waiting for you on your homepage?

‘Bisi has gone from being in a relationship to engaged’

‘Anita is now married’

'John just put a ring on it'

If your homepage ain't giving you the gist, you are straight up hearing it from the horse’s mouth when the Bisi actually updates her status via her Iphone for Facebook with ‘OMG, I’m engaged’. Or Anita is updating her status from her honeymoon, talking about ‘Chilling in Morrocco with hubby, I’m so blessed and lucky to have him’.

So, you’re like dagnabit! I’m taking a FaceBook break because this oppression is too much but, you learn the hard way that you can run, but you can’t hide…for the very next day, your homegirl is calling to give you the 'latest gist'… ‘Omo, guess who don engage themselves ooo’. If your homegirl ain't calling you, you're feeling the oppression every Sunday at church, when the Pastor stays announcing the latest engaged couples, and urging y'all to congratulate them, and pray for them. And if church isn't doing the work, all the millions of wedding websites that are circulating the internet, definitely hit home.

It doesn't help that you dated Mike for 6 years, and then he broke up with you on some 'baby, it's not you...it's me' and then turned around to quickly move on with some other chick, and propose to her after only 8 months of dating. You're like crap! What did I do wrong? I cooked for him, cleaned for him, provided a listening ear, performed those acrobatics in bed, and played the wifey material role like I was supposed to, so what did she do differently, that I didn't? Heck! He always told you that you were 'wifey', and a 'keeper'...but I guess actions speak louder than words. You're actually pissed off by the unfairness of the whole situation...after all you groomed him, primed him, prepped him and introduced him to your family and friends…only for him to pull the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’…and 8 months down the line, you stumble across his wedding website and you’re like what??? Imagine! Another babe dey enjoy the result of your hardwork. Kai!

Matter of fact, it seems like all of a sudden you're hearing a whole bunch of those 'they dated for 8 months, and he proposed' type of stories, and you can't help thinking about all the men whom you dated for 2 +years, and they ain't say peep about marriage. But when you think harder, you realize that all of them are married, so it definitely wasn't them with the problem now. Could it be you? things that make you go hmmm...

You're kinda hoping that this marriage fever will pass, and all man will begin to hear word again but who dash monkey banana? Marriage season is here to stay, and somehow you've been left on the sidelines looking at those million wedding websites, FaceBook status updates, and feeling those random twinges of self pity because it seems like everyone else in the world is getting married, but YOU.

‘What’s wrong with me', you ask. ‘Why can’t I meet a correct bobo too?' I’m smart, educated (2 degrees and counting), pretty, can cook a mean isi-ewu and generally throw down in the kitchen, can cook it up in the bedroom as well, and come to think of it, all those ex-boyfriends of mine always complimented me and said that I was 'wifey material’.

You just can't seem to meet a decent bro. The dating scene is wack and the 'market' is very dry and drab looking. All the guys that you've met recently all seem to praise your greatness and tell you how awesome you are, and how you’re wifey material…but…they aren't looking for anything too serious, and just wanna be friends with benefits.

You're tired of playing these guessing games with men...he likes me, he likes me not. You just want some permanence o jare! Someone to call your own, so that you kwa can oppress other single ladies on FaceBook. Ah ah, e easy?

It doesn't help that all your married friends smugly tell you how men see their future wives, and instantly know that she's the one/after a few months of dating, they know that she is wifey, sooo you're definitely thinking that something is wrong with you.

You’re thinking ‘chai…30 dey approach ooo’ (since the memo went out, that 30 is the cut off age after which if you’re still not married, you should go and jump off a bridge). Your ‘juniors’ don marry and born pikin since. In fact, dem dey on their 3^rd pikin now sef. Your mates dey rock matching aso-ebi with their husbands in church and/or weddings.
You officially hate going to weddings because all the boo'ed up women seem to clutch their boyfriends possessively while marking their territory, the married women seem to be very smug about their status, and when it’s time to catch the bouquet, your married friends give you that pitying smile and the nudge like ‘girl, go and catch the bouquet na’.

Everyone is asking ‘oh baby, why you dey single sef?...you need to put yourself out there, go out more, be more social’…but they don’t know that if you do any more putting of self out there, na to run naked for street, remain.

You even start dreading running into your Aunts, because the subject of marriage always comes up and they give you all these suggestions, like you ain't tried it all. And let's not talk about your parents...

What’s a girl to do?

Do you continue to mull over the matter and feel sorry for yourself? Maybe even drive by a couple of bridges on your 29^th birthday to determine which one you will jump off when 30 nack and ring no dey for hand?

Do you hang up all your mini skirts and abortion belts, in exchange for more Mary Amaka looking outfits, because ‘well behaved women and wifey material don’t hit the club no more’.

Do you join the church and become an usher, because rumor has it that all the good and God fearing single men full ground for church.
Do you hold off on buying that townhouse that you’ve been eyeing or that 2012 BMW, because your mother told you that men are intimidated by successful women?

I mean…girl, what are you going to do? Put your life on hold waiting for marriage to happen? Worry your pretty head about things that you can't control?

Truth of the matter is...you realize that you might get married, and you might not. It's all a game of fate + luck. So in the case of the latter, what's a girl gonna do? Hop off that bridge because life without marriage is a life not worth living?

But one day, like a bright shining light...it hits you and you jump up from your workspace in corporate America, feeling energized and ready to take on the world (your coworkers are alarmed but they will be fine). The light bulb goes off in your head and you suddenly know that you must continue to live life to the fullest and not worry about things that you can’t control. The dating scene is wack, and you're probably not going to meet a man at the wedding that you plan to attend next weekend, but so what?

The 'good' men are MIA (the women in Yankee claim that the men are in Jand, the women in Jand say the men are in Yankee, everyone abroad thinks that they are in Naija, and the women in Naija give you the blank stare, and say that there are no men)…so really, where are those men hiding? Well, until that magical secret hiding place is discovered, you decide that you are going to continue to do you. You're going to have fun with your girls (single or married), you're going to buy that BMW...life is short, abi? You're going to travel more and experience more of life. You decide that you're not going to put your life on hold and worry your pretty head over the fact that there's no bling bling on your ring finger.

You say to yourself 'I'm not married yet, but so what?'. Life goes on.

The end.

PS:- Many many thanks to everyone who commented on the previous post. I didn't realize that I was missed o. *cheeses*. Gracias, I really appreciated the comments.

PPS:- Definitely gotta thank whoever nominated me for the blogger awards, *curtsies*. I truly appreciate am.

PPPS:- Abeg make una pray for me o, I am definitely suffering from the case of 'lazyblogoritis'. I've been soo lazy, had a bunch of stuff I wanted to blog about/been wanting to make rounds and catch up on my fave blogs but na pure LAZINESS. I go try do better in this month of June. *crosses fingers*

Peace & Love.