Amidst everything.....Boko Haram, abducted school girls, bomb explosions everywhere, terrible road accidents, heart breaks, bad roads, auctioning of virginities....Yada Yada Yada, THERE IS GOD O!!!!!
No, I'm not ridiculing or mocking anyone. I feel that woman's pain a lot more than some people that tend to be hauling accusations and all that. But I think I felt a deep sense of understanding when she said "THERE IS GOD O". That sentence says a lot. There is God.
I pray for Nigeria everyday but I get very passive about a lot of things these days. Pardon me. But I'm sure a lot of us are in these shoes. And to me those girls weren't kidnapped.
Onto other things.
Ebila the great a.k.a @9jasgreat got married. A big hearty congratulations to my Ebila. We had plans. Hot hot plans. That is hot and steamy plans. Hot and steamy online plans. He can kill me if he sees this but well he's at honeymoon banging his wife "legally". Lmao. Ekpedemulo. You know I wish you every fabulous thing ever, you deceitful son of a bitch. Hey, you're married o. No do like T&T and reply every hater. Well, I'm not hating. Just pissed. Have a blissful marriage. If you ever consider adultery......never mind, you missed this auction.
Onto other things. I've moved on from Ebila. Nasty heartbreaker. Yes, I'm pained. In Drake's voice, motherfucker never loved me. LOL.
Guess who had a fabulous birthday.......GRETEL. 20th April. Easter Sunday.
I had to go to Uyo, so I could braid my hair at my house comfortably and not have to write a cheque like I'd do here.
I had fun. Church was boring. And after church was the rest.
I received the first kiss from HIM. Like after that every sentence was accompanied by a kiss. And my mouth has been without a "kiss". For. A. While. LOL.
I thought that was over until I got back to work. I think this is the birthday I've had lots of EXPENSIVE gifts. Not those ones I get pork meat, akara and chicken suya with GL necklace bought from ASOS and aliexpress for 99 cents. And lots of BBM updates and too much beeps.
I should do a photo blog post of my birthday gifts. Do you know that I love "hello kitty"? Hm. I love Hello Kitty. I got bathroom covers and pots. Yes. Hello kitty pots. See, I cried.
Gucci Guilty. Jewel studded handbag. S5. A Karen Millen dress. And hair.
God answered my prayers. I had no Michael Kors. No. I don't hate it. One more MK and I'll choke. And puke.
I had two cakes. One was a gift from an ex-somebody. The other, a red velvet cake, with "Amy Sucre for PDP" written boldly on top, for my colleagues. Politics is my future.
HIS brother did a night birthday photoshoot for me. Where I was all natural and shy and silly and crying. I can't wait to see the pictures.
I disappointed everyone concerning my book launch. I really felt sad and defeated. But HE encouraged me and my mummy and daddy forgave me. Despite all they had put into it.
Sometimes, I wish I had prayed for a tall, fair, handsome, rich, sexy, drop dead gorgeous, humorous, extremely romantic boyfriend. Or Channing Tatum, or. Eminem, or Hemsworth or Michael Jackson. No, I didn't.
I prayed for Peace and Happiness. Because I know the hell I've been through in my young life and RR and sexy didn't count as peace.
And God answered.
Short, dark, handsome, comfortable, nice voice, not gorgeous, little humor( trust me, I know what I'm going through), just learning romance, extremely busy, WAS extremely formal, teachable boyfriend.
But the perfect definition of Peace and Happiness. Trust me, it wouldn't have been better.
I've had to teach him a lot. Gosh, a lot. But in 4 months, I haven't gone to bed upset, sad, bitter at myself or Nigeria, or angry. Now, who else doesn't go to bed angry if not Gretel? He made it a policy. We won't sleep angry.
Dude never sings in church or anywhere. Even in his bedroom. But he'll record himself singing XO by. Beyoncé and send to me. Silly faces. Let's not go there. He had a permanent fixed smile. Then I came along.
He does not send SMS first thing in the morning and last thing at night. But google ASOS deliveries and I'm sure my signature will pop up first five. Lol.
We may not end up together but I thank God for HIM. I've changed a bit. And if we end up together you all have known a different Gretel. I can say its a nice time of my life. But, I don't want to jinx it. There I go.
Onto other things.
Didi, next time you tell me you flying in a jet to propose to me, I will fly to GH and castrate you. Love.
Happy life Ebila.
Let love consume you. And devour you.
P.S. Please I can't post photos from my android device in here. Help.
Twitter has become the place I blog. I'm not so frequent there anymore but instead of sitting here and typing, which is the same thing done on twitter, I prefer plenty 140 words posted randomly.
Have you watched TERRIBLE BOSSES?
I should have been in that movie. I have an even worse scenario. Now is one of those times I prefer anonymity. One craze person could see this and go on to tell "oga" which actually I don't care. But then, I have enough office beef. Even spare to take home for my soup and I don't want "oga's" beef.
Sexual harassment. Favoritism. "I-know-oga" characters. Gossip. Envy. Yada. Yada.
You know when you condone something till you wake upset that you're condoning something you're scared to handle..... Number 1 and 2. That's it.
I love Igbo people but the ones I work with can make you loathe the whole Igbo tribe. I have wonderful Igbo friends. Online and in real life. My best friend, Chiamaka, who is also my editor, is Igbo.
But you meet some people and you can't help but notice their tribe. Because they make it obvious. That they are Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa, Ibibio, etc.
Number 3. The I-know-oga characters. This one drives me crazy.
Normal standard procedures. Some people just swing themselves into a place and want to intimidate you because they know Oga. You can't even say one word before they go off on how Oga is their brother, uncle, best friend, father, boyfriend, sugar daddy, lover, fucker and Yada Yada. At least I haven't heard husband yet.
I can handle the visitors. It's the staff that "know oga" that is my issue now. Some are just junior staff. You can't send them on an errand and they do it willingly. They grudge, get upset, frown, murmur, insult, slam their faces on the wall and eventually mess up what you instructed them to do because as oga's person, they shouldn't be bothered. I've raised the issue a thousand times. And the response is just what makes me keep saying "Igbo people" and shaking my head.
Please. I know anyone and I mean anyone from any tribe could exhibit these animalistic attitudes. Even my lovely people too. But I work with Igbo people. 99 percent. In fact, I'm the only person from Akwa Ibom in my work place. And I like some. Yet, some just spoils it. So, make person no come write another post with plenty grammar in an attempt to table my matter. Listen, I will deal with you.
So, let's continue.
Since "I don't know oga" I respect myself by doing my work, acting mean and harsh and unfriendly and also reminding everybody that I don't know Oga, the rich perv that is toasting me.
You know it's crazy when someone says "even if you earn 1 million, I know oga, he is my brother, we used to extract shit from each other's butt and compare the length of our dicks before the governor of so and so state, forget that he's wealthy now and I'm still struggling and managing, that's life for you." Noisy, loud, flimsy and totally annoying. And it hides my happiness. And turning me to a snob. Yes. I said snob.
As long as my cheque clears every 28. And the boo cracks a joke. And I get my deliveries from ASOS and OASAP and climb one more stilettos. Keep on fucking him. I don't care. Again. That's my way of handling terrible bosses.
There's free wifi. That's why I'm ranting. Plus it's few days to my birthday. Precisely Easter Sunday. And I feel elderly.
I love giveaways. I just don't know how to go about it. How I'll get to deliver it. I for do. And don't think I'm lazy. Maybe I am. But then, I've never bothered about these things.
I've been rocking burgundy color lipstick. Ruby Woo by Mac. I look very old. And I like it. I look 35. And I have straw curls on. I look big. But I love the look.
I'm listening to a song. Hold me for a while. I don't know the artist. And I miss the old me.
I wish you all the best in this beautiful life. Let love rain on you. And devour you. Completely.
Hello my lovely family. I don't know where to start but I want you know that I miss you all. It's been months of silence, work, twitter and life.
Myne,Didi, Ebila, who I actually didn't miss and the rest.
Thing is, I have lots of blogs on my reading list that haven't posted anything in years. But I read every blogspot just that I don't drop comments and other stuff like that. Atilola, I read your blog regularly.
Prism too. HD, the, I don't even know what eccentric name to call her.
Been writing, working, living and busy. I have loads of stuff I'll love to post and I'll post them as soon as I can. It's been pretty crazy with your girl. But in all I'm growing and that's the happy thing.
This post was just to tell those that care to know or read this blog that I miss them and I'm still here. And I'm back to blogging as frequently as possible and better things sef.
I've been "wanting" to let this out in ages.
I finished my therapy classes for depression. Lol. I had to pretend a lot to finish those classes and I want to say I'm grateful to all those that were there for me. I am fine. Very fine. I thought of taking on a new habit. Maybe, smoking, or drinking, or partying, or cooking, or gardening, or dancing, or cycling, or exercise, or writing. None worked. Well, I got lots of suggestions, good and bad so don't look at me like that.
What I settled for is quite a handful and very embarrassing, so, I won't say it. But subsequently, if you're interested or you care enough to check, you will know. Till then.....
I love you like XO.
In other news, I want to thank God for food. You won't understand this if you see it with that shallow mind and that doesn't mean you're shallow. But, I've come a long way and I'm happy to say that having food to eat is a privilege.