Twenty-Five: The Scary Number.

   Twenty-five is a rough age. All your life, you look forward to being twenty-one so you're allowed to have some kind of freedom. Then you spend the next few years being glad that you can actually go out and have a nice time with no parents or police looking over your shoulder. Twenty-two is cool, Twenty-three is cool, Twenty-four is cool and then BAM twenty-five comes knocking, and suddenly it's not so cool anymore. You're only five years away from being thirty. You start analyzing every aspect of your life. Where is it going? Why aren't I married? Why don't I have kids? Chances are by now; you know several couples who are getting married and several couples who have children. Then you start to think "well my parents were married by now" or "all my uncles and aunts were married by now" or "wait my parents already had TWO kids by the time they were twenty-five!"

Then you start thinking about all the things in life that you haven't done yet. I still haven't traveled to Paris... I still haven't published a book... Then you start analyzing the person you're in a relationship with, if you are in any at all. You begin to as yourself , are they the one? If not, why am I wasting my time?  I'm almost twenty five, very near thirty and then forty! What if I'm forty and all my friends are married and I'm not?! I'm over-analyzing, maybe this doesn't happen to everyone, but it’s certainly happening to me. I will be turning twenty-five in about a month. Right now I’m extremely jealous of my twenty-two year old sister.

Wait, what if I get married in the next five years and then I have a family and never get a chance to do the things I want to do? I started reading some blogs lately about people traveling to different countries and pursuing their dreams. Then I remembered when I was back in high school and we'd take school trips and do all sorts of activities and life was so fun. I didn't even appreciate it then. Now I feel like all I do is go to school, come home and watch movies. I once felt like I was too old to do some of the things I did in high school, but too young to settle down and have a family yet. Or was I? Maybe I'd be ready if I met the right person.

Hmmm... What if my future husband was out there and I'm missing out because I'm wasting time doing nothing? I know I don't want to end up thirty and the only one out of my friends that isn't married! Good thing my friends are younger anyway.

Recently I started picturing my whole life, what my future would look like as a dentist. I asked myself what I was passionate about. Well, there are two things I've always loved since I was a kid: writing and music. I think it may be a little late for me to become the next Mariah Carey or Stephen King, but that doesn't mean that I can't do both in my spare time. You can always make time for the things you love. Can’t you?

Hmmm… twenty-five, the scary number.

All in all, I think twenty-five is an age where you discover who you really are. What I mean by that is finding who we REALLY are; what we've always loved deep down that makes us different from everyone else. I think as young adults, we know what our passions are, but as we get older we get so caught up in life we forget about it. In high school, you don't care about things you feel passionately about. You care about crushes and fairy tale romance. Then after high school, you care about where you're going to go to college and where you're going to work. You don't worry about if your current boyfriend or girlfriend is "the one" or if your job is the job of your dreams. But then when you turn twenty-five, you realize you have to think about these things. After all, you're reaching adulthood!

What a scary thing.

I'm still twenty-four though, one more month to go, but truthfully I'm already analyzing every aspect of my life and envying the people who have chased their dreams more than I have.  I've always wanted to publish a book... but hey, writing is what I love and I guess that’s a start to my writing ambition or maybe not.  Who knows? I'll let you know how it turns out.

Facebook Rehab, Maybe Relapse.

I wanted to spend some time off Facebook so I started my 30 day Facebook rehab. I made a vow to myself, I made it public, I wished it true, but alas, I logged back in and aaaargh! I had a rehab of only 6 days and I failed.

Why it’s difficult:
Some people communicate to me solely through Facebook messages. That should change soon though.

Some people do not email you when they need to reach you… even if it says on your profile you’re not logging in! (Why I’d assume anyone would pay attention to that is beyond me.)

I’m worried about my baby sister and this way I can obsessively check on her without her knowing!

Some close family members only announce important news like new girlfriends on Facebook and if you don’t see it there you won’t ever know! :P

There are book-related things I want to be able to share by clicking this little button called “Share” on external websites… and then suddenly I’m logged in and I’m sharing and I can’t help it!

Nobody cares when you’re not there—it’s a surefire way to find out how many friends you (don’t) have!

Not to mention all the surely fascinating and amazing news I’m missing about books and publishing, it’s like I’m living on this little island with one tree and no one visits ever, which is fine, sure, fine, but… I’m curious! Like who has read The latest Robert Ludlum book? I want to read it! What books are coming out that I should know about? What is happening? What is going on? Not to mention the lack of advice on my little one-tree island. There are some days I’d like to know.

I just miss it—and some of my friends—that’s all.

Sigh… I’m still trying to keep myself away until I can make it through the next couple of months, as I have a lot of work that needs done and I am too easily distracted to add one more thing to the mix right now. But, who knows. This has quickly become a far more depressing undertaking than I expected. Is this a normal stage of social networking withdrawal, or am I just facing up to the reality of living in 2012?

This too shall pass...

I should have known that the week after the time change would be tough. Ever since we sprang ahead I have had gut pain, and anxiety. Two days into the week I was already at Friday-level exhaustion, and this morning I was crying at school before I even had my coat off. For no real reason other than my general gloom, I felt like nothing I do matters, that I am wasting my time and my energy and ruining my health on something that nobody appreciates or cares about. And for once it wasn’t about “them”, it was about me.

Happy is overrated. Not that I don’t love being happy, but I can’t pinpoint why I’m sad today or maybe I can. I think I’m probably just tired, my body is rebelling, and my soul is trying to tell me that after being “up” all week it’s okay to relax a bit. There is amazing freedom that infuses my frame when I give myself permission to be down, to have a down day. There’s nothing unspiritual about it, nothing to fix, nothing to confess or beat myself up about. I’m just down. This too, shall pass. I have God’s permission to be human.

The alternative, of course, is to be sad that I’m sad—which would double my emotional weight or I could worry about being sad, obsess about being sad, lament being sad—none of which changes anything and just complicates what ought to be a simple, sad day. My goal today is clear: Trust God in my sadness, elevate him in my down-ness, to be at home in the state I find myself. And, of course, to look for the door that will lead out of this room quite naturally when it’s time.

Now, I’ll have to watch for other emotions and temptations lurking around me: self pity, trash-talking thoughts, grumpiness, and defensiveness. So far, none of these have found their way into my heart and mind.

You can pray for me. That would be nice. But don’t pray that I won’t be sad anymore. Pray that I’ll be faithful. That God will get glory out of me no matter how I feel. That I’ll look to him, enjoy him, and serve him with all my heart.

But right now, I’m tired and sad…

Here, I said it. I want to scream. I want to cry, what am I saying? ...I'm already crying, can't stop crying. Feel like I need to throw up.

I’m tired of being tired.

I’m tired of being angry.

I’m tired of being grumpy.

 Just TIRED. Just don't know how much more I want to take.

I have to hold tight to my faith and my God or I will lose everything. I know I'm rambling, I'm sorry. I just have nowhere to go to ramble. 

From Plan to Plan B

I'm in my ob-gyn's office, feet in the stirrups. Dr. Haddinson peeks up over the paper sheet draped across my knees and pulls hers gloves off with a snap. "So? Do you want a cigarette?"

My friend Jessy laughs, as does the nurse, but I try not to because I don't want to jiggle or move or do anything to disrupt those tiny little sperm as they make the long journey up through my uterus to my little waiting egg.

They've already had to do a lot of traveling. I bought them from Prague, Czech Republic. They're from Marek (not his real name), who's 22 and blond, blue-eyed, and tall.

Marek (well, his sperm) arrived packed in dry ice a week before I ovulated, so he hung around with me as we waited. He became my dinner companion. I set him up in his large round container on the chair across the table from me. I told him about my day.

A part of me thought it'd be lovely to not have to drink both glasses of wine — and he could have done more than just agree with me all the time. But then I took him into the living room to watch TV, and he didn't complain when I kept changing the channel. We became pals, Marek and I. We took pictures.

Dr. Haddinson hasn't done this before, though she did see the procedure when she was a resident. It's nothing, she said to me when I first talked to her about artificial insemination. We can absolutely do it here.

So now the deed is done. Intrauterine insemination. It has a higher success rate than the vaginal insemination I could have done myself at home. And I'll take any advantage I can get.

"If it's going to happen, it's happening right now, so just lie here for ten minutes. Let the magic begin," Dr. Haddinson says, nodding as she and the nurse leaves. Jessy and I look at each other.

Yes, I think, I'm getting pregnant right now.

(I don't know where I got off thinking that way. I knew even then that my chance of getting pregnant through artificial insemination was only 5 to 25 percent per try.)

I'm so excited it's hard to remember how reluctant I was about all this.

For years I had stuck faithfully to another plan.

The Plan

The Plan: Live life. Get married. Have kids. (I was hoping for two, but could have been talked into one or five or 20.)

In grad school at 35, I thought, This is good! But where's the rest? The men? The dating?

At 36, graduated, I turned to my friend Jessicca and said, That's it. I'm getting married.

She had found a wonderful husband by combining hard work, sheer determination, and a little luck. So I did what she did: Yahoo, Match, Nerve. Never mind that I'm shyer than Jessy, and not nearly so slender, and I don't have her brilliant hair. Still, I dated up a storm at 37 and 38. I met many nice men. And at 38 I began to settle in with Paul, a screenwriter who was between jobs.

He wanted kids, too — though it became more and more clear that he wanted them later, after he hit it big. I pulled out a BabyGap ad for strength, put it on the floor beside me and told him: We need to break up.

And then one day, watching the high school students in the summer program I run, I thought back to being 16. And I realized, holy smokes, I'm Thirty-Nine and One Half years old.

The kids went back inside to their classes, but I stayed in the sun and twisted a lock of hair around and around my finger. Well, I thought, I haven't asked Steve out yet. I could ask if he wants to go for a drink sometime. I also have a date coming up next week with a friend of a friend of a friend. It's not so bad. Don't panic.

But I was panicking. Because it struck me that even if I did fall in love right then, say with Steve (or the guy next week, it didn't matter), and he fell in love with me, we'd have to wait a year or so to get engaged and then a year to plan the wedding and then, well, he wouldn't be ready to have kids right away...I mean, jeez, I'd be 50 before we could even try for a baby.

I'm going to be alone, single, and childless for the rest of my life, I thought. This isn't the life I imagined when I was 16, sitting around listening to Love, soft as an easy chair and reading those romance novels, one after another.

He was supposed to have rescued me by now. He was supposed to have surrendered to my feminine wiles long ago: my doe eyes, my gorgeous tresses.

I stood up, fluffed my tresses, and faced the facts with my doe eyes.

He isn't coming.

I am absolutely on my own.

I'd suspected this to be my fate even as I dreamed of the other, more romantic life. When I was a teenager my parents said, "You'd better lose that weight or you're not going to find a boyfriend." And embedded in this warning was the fate-worse-than-death scenario that my mother's sister was living: 40, single, childless.

They shook their heads with pity. Poor Aunty Jane.

I felt it like a curse on my head. Be thin! Or die alone!

Somewhere deep inside me I knew I'd be there, at the threshold of 40 and alone. I just knew it. And I swore as I watched Aunty Jane get older and older that no matter what, I wouldn't miss out on having a child. Even if I had to go to some random bar and leave with a random guy and ravish him in some random motel. Then disappear.

Plan B

It'd be more dramatic to say that I immediately got on the phone, ordered some sperm, and got on with it. But it took another several months to officially move from The Plan to Plan B. Most especially there was the deep, hollow sadness to be worked through in watching The Plan fail.

Then, of course, there were things like money to be considered. And Jessy helped me with a dirty little secret fear: Up until then it'd been hard to find a man ...but with a kid in tow, would it be impossible?

Come on, she said. It's not like the old days. Look around you: Over 40, single with a baby, is hardly shocking. Just move on with your life. Do what you want. You have the rest of your life to find a man. This you have to do right now.

Eventually I understood. I am absolutely on my own...for now.

At the doctor's office, after I keep still for ten minutes, Dr. Haddison lets us go. At home I lie on the couch beneath my front room window. The couch where Marek's sperm lounged for most of the seven days they were with me. I prop my butt up a little and focus on getting pregnant, just in case Dr. Haddisson isn't right about the instantaneousness of insemination.

Two days later, while I'm visiting a friend, waves of dizziness almost knock me over. There's a strange pinging deep in my pelvis and — most strangely — an awful metallic taste in my mouth. I know I'm pregnant. I just know I am. It may not stick, but at this moment, I know I am.

It does stick, and my daughter Kate arrives nine months later, one day after her due date. My miracle first-try baby. Meant to be, my mother says.

Kate is long and thin — 8 pounds, 9 ounces. She's yanked out of me after 35 hours of labor and a near cesarean (which was most definitely not part of The Plan or even Plan B). But I can tell you this for sure: Epidurals are the miracle of the 20th century, and I have the best obstetrician in the entire world.

My lagos love affair Part 1- Unedited

Walking on the streets of Lagos, I could smell the aroma of fried Akara only to be spoilt by the sweaty smell of conductors screaming ‘Keja ‘Keja ‘Keja.  It is so irritating how they never take time to pronounce their destinations properly. It’s only 6.00am but the crowd and chaos on the street was enough to start world war 3. Some running after the yellow buses while others sat in their air conditioned car hoping the ‘go slow’ would end soon.

I walked aimlessly to the bus stop hoping to get an Okada. My mum has always warned me never to take okada anywhere; she gives me these lectures daily of how most accidents in Lagos are caused by ruthless Okada men. Yes, she is probably right but what was a young girl suppose to do? Die in the never ending ‘Lagos Traffic Jam’? I ignored the taunting voice of my mum’s voice coupled with the warning whisper of my conscience; I hopped on an Okada praying I won’t learn the hard way.

Sigh….What a relief. Thank God for sparing me through the Okada ride, I could have sworn that if I was pregnant no genesis would have stopped me from having a threatened miscarriage. Not that it was the Okada man’s fault anyway; the portholes on the streets of Lagos were large enough to swallow a Jeep. Ok, maybe I exaggerated a little but who wouldn't?

Well, I have never been a fan of Lagos. I though it contained too many people and to little resources to accommodate them, but my Dad could only get me my Internship spot in Lagos so I had to bear the doom I thought Lagos holds. Where I was taking my IT was just a couple of blocks from where the Okada man dropped me (Just so you know Okada is not allowed in the area where I work, I still don’t get the reason why), I was too early to work anyway so I walked slowly admiring my new strapless wedge through the glass door of sterling bank.

‘I looked good’, I thought to myself.

Lost in thought I didn’t notice the arrival of the black tinted Audi Q7 slowly parking next to me, but the horn jolted me back to the moment.

Silly Driver.

I hurriedly stepped aside and continued to walk along the road; I had a strange feeling that someone was following me. I walked faster wishing I had the speed of light. I’ve heard strange stories about Lagos, some myths while others are very true. I could feel my heart pounding as loud as it could go.  Just when I thought I had made a head start, I felt a tap on my shoulder. With no second thoughts, I flung my bag so hard aiming to hit the face of my attacker.

“Madame why did you hit me like that na, I just wan tell you say my oga dey call you” A man with a brownish teeth said to me. He was pointing to the Audi Q7. Not even my love for cars or that car in particular can make me yield to the call of a stranger.

“Either you don high this early morning or you think say I be fool ba, You better leave me alone before I shout Ole for your head o” Hissing at the man who was obviously a driver.

He walked back to the car and I breathed a sigh of relief. You can never be too careful, especially when a strange looking man walks up to you in the middle of a deserted road. Suddenly my instincts told me to run, but the subtle sound of my name in a familiar voice glued my leg to a spot.

‘Funmi’ that same voice that haunted my dreams, the same voice that brought me tears for two years. I wasn’t sure if to be surprised or angry. I could feel the mixture of the two.

"I’m late for work" I said to him as if the last two years of our lives weren’t missing.

“What a way to greet a long time friend”, he said sarcastically. Like I care. I stopped caring two years ago when he walked out; at least that’s what I tell myself every night.

Goodbye Derrick. I walked away just like he did two years ago. 

He didn’t try to stop me; he walked back to his car with so much pride that it made me nauseated. Maybe just maybe I will never have to think about him again, now that I know he doesn’t care at all. My working hours stretched for so long I felt I might actually sleep off, but my thoughts drifted off to the day I met him.

To Be Continued…..

How I Defeated my Coca Cola Demon

  In a million years I would never have thought of writing about my Coca Cola addiction, but I was talking to Alex, a friend of mine earlier on and he actually thought it was a good idea to ramble on my Coca Cola demon. So one way or the other the inspiration for this write up was his idea  :).

Hi my name is Kemi and I’m a recovering Cola addict.

If you are a Coca Cola addict, I want to let you know I UNDERSTAND exactly how you feel.  People who don’t have the same addiction don’t understand and think it’s silly.  It’s NOT.  It’s very REAL and the feelings associated with it or caused by it can be very painful. I made that final commitment because I realized but more importantly accepted I had lost all self-control when it came to Cola and that was wearing on my confidence.  I hated that feeling of being controlled by Cola. I hated that I couldn’t pass up Cola. I hated that I dreaded social events because I knew that they would probably lead to a Cola binge.  I hated that I could never lose weight because no matter how healthy I ate I would still drink cola excessively.

Addiction is strong beyond understanding. And it’s tricky and baffling. If you are a non-addict, like I am to alcohol, please don’t judge addiction by your standard. And if you are addicted to something, like I was to Cola my deep feeling goes to you. My misuse of Coca Cola began at the age of 16, I just got out of high school (Boarding School) and I had enough time on my hands, going out with friends and just grabbing a bite and a drink. It became more constant, and this was how the addiction started.  At a point I felt it was the only drink that was “unconditionally” perfect for me, or so it seemed. I couldn’t sleep because my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about Cola for long enough.  In reality there was a price to pay. It ruled my life and although I would wrestle it to the ground and gain some control over it from time to time, I never really worked through this issue until Late 2010.

When I realized it was getting the best of me, I sobbed and reeled for 3 days straight as my grief came to the surface in waves. After a few days as my pain and grief began to subside I noticed something really interesting. How I saw Cola…how I used to feel about cola had changed and it changed literally overnight. I knew it was time to overcome this struggle.  I started working on my Cola problem. Yes, in the way most people deal with problems — by loathing and working against the problem. I tried to control my Cola addiction. I mixed Cola with water, calculated my calorie intake carefully. Needless to say, I cleaned up my fridge and rid of all Cola. The longest I could stay Cola free was a week. Sooner or later, something triggered my Cola cravings and I was back to it. The trigger could be various things — sweets offered at social gatherings or as samples at the grocery store, work stress, or just the general sense of boredom.

One day I decided I could no longer go on like that, I decided to stay off it totally. I must say it was really hard, the first two weeks was like I was going to faint, I was Coca cola dehydrated :) Well, that was 8 months ago and my current relationship with Cola is a healthy one. Am I perfect? Of course not, anybody is because we are human. But that’s perfectly wonderful because the real issue of being obsessed with Coca Cola from a very young age is gone. I now drink water like a “normal” person.

Previously, in my life, when it seemed like my Cola addiction was out of control, my spending would not be. I exchanged one addiction for another and I was scared and unwilling to work on this latter issue. However, I have now stepped up to do this work. I have been working at deeper and deeper levels spiritually and energetically and I feel ready to meet whatever is behind or underneath this issue. I’m scared…and I’m ready.

I hope this helps someone.  If I can break my Cola addiction ANYONE can because I was once someone who sat in my room with a 2 liter bottle of Cola down my throat.

Here are some of the ways in which Cola does its damage:
Heart Disease
Tooth decay
Disruption of normal brain utility
Weakened immune system
Low blood sugar

Alcoholic Ramblings Of A Non-Drinker

  I have the need to write this today, because for some strange reason I remember something that happened to me over a year ago on the bus.  A drunk man was not only hitting on me but almost put his disgusting mouth and breathe on my neck that I had to push him so hard he fell  to the floor of the bus. Get this, till this very moment I do not feel guilty about that. Why should I be the victim of your drunkenness? It’s just appalling.  

Alcohol really doesn’t interest me. It smells in a way I can’t understand. I can smell it from about forty centimeters away, sometimes further. I’m surprised more people don’t talk about that. It smells worse on the breath of overly drunk people if they are close to me and I fear people who drink too much(I guess we can call it Methustophobia, since Methustes is drunkard).  I’ve seen injury, I’ve had friends attacked, I’ve had friends permanently scarred because of this drug called “Alcohol” that they chose to make their ‘poison’.

I appreciate the artistry of wine labels, the marketing and names chosen, the history and the families who have devoted generations to creating a good product. Believe me I really do. I know that the process of creating decent alcohol is both a science and somewhat of an art. I’ve seen documentaries, but that’s where it ends for me.

I hate when people get drunk as hell. I don’t find it funny or endearing when someone goes overboard with alcohol then spends the night stumbling around, saying slurry things they normally wouldn’t, getting sick and not just acting like themselves. I can’t deal with a drunk, I’m not trying to get in the way of anyone’s fun or control their life, but I also don’t want to be with someone who makes me deal with the pain of seeing them wasted.

Over the years, I’ve been told two absurd things by people who drink too much:

Women are called uptight unless they drink:   Really. This appears to be a significant element that isn’t talked about much.  Women are supposedly no fun unless they are holding a glass of something. They’re not getting into the ‘spirit of the evening’, unless they’re imbibing – usually as much as possible of those high-octane fruit-colored attractive bottles, it seems. I’ve even been told that it’s downright anti-feminist to not be able to ‘match drinks with the boys’ or do a few drinking games, because apparently my status as a woman and being respected by other women, particularly if I am being promoted as a role-model for the next generation, might require excessive alcohol consumption, right? Absolutely not. As I said before, why am I suddenly the judge ‘who is better‘?

I’ve not developed a tolerance and I should work on it:  The word ‘tolerate’ appears to me to be a word used in conjunction with ‘suffering’. You have to ‘suffer this’. You have to go through the motions; you have to build up your resilience. This is a rite of passage for some undefined reason and getting as much alcohol into oneself as possible is part of some sort of journey towards something, towards what please? Towards the moment when someone has their head down the toilet or is missing an eyebrow or is being hefted off the couch and into a taxi and is calling a friend the next day to ask why there are photos online that they don’t remember being taken.  Okay, sure, that hasn’t been the experience that I’ve observed every time I’m in the company of people who drink alcohol. But I’ve seen it more than once and more than once was enough.

Drinking in moderation is okay-but getting excessively drunk is completely wrong, and if someone feels that they have to do it to escape their life, then I must say this is the first step to alcoholism. All I’m saying is that one cannot say that the reason they get drunk is to escape from their daily lives and be happy. You must have a better reason for getting drunk than that, and if not then maybe there really isn’t any reason you should be doing it. Why would you want to act like a complete fool to have fun? How embarrassing.

There is nothing more annoying to a sober person than a drunk. What irritates me more than getting drunk is ‘Denial’.  Which is even more common these days, you know that awkward moment when a drunk keeps insisting that he/she is not drunk. I know this is a very controversial issue and it always brings argument, but the point here is not whether alcohol is right or wrong. The point here is that, for me getting drunk falls on my wrong list. Getting drunk is more than a problem, it is a symptom.

I choose not to drink alcohol. It is not your problem (Harsh right? But true)  If you have a problem with it, maybe you should think about why, and if you choose to drink alcohol, it’s also not my problem but when your drunken state affects me then it becomes my problem.

Sigh…..I’m sorry if all this sounds whiny and all that, rough week I guess, but TGIF.

P.S. I really didn't edit this, so forgive my mistakes :)

Day 1: Facebook Rehab.

  Like I said earlier, I’m taking a 30 day break from Facebook. Going into a Facebook Rehab, of sorts….with all of the blessings and beauty and connection that Facebook provides, I have found for me that at this time in my life it has become a source of great procrastination, confusion and distraction from doing things that I fear, and yet things that I know I am supposed to do.  I deleted Facebook from my phone today.

  Anyway, it is already so hard. I already feel lonely, disconnected and afraid of being forgotten by people that I already love and people that I have grown to love so much. This is truly one of the bravest and scariest things I have ever done or will ever do, Cheesy right?  This is why I think it is so important that I do it. I should not be relying on the internet to determine my self-worth. It is time for me to face this head-on.  I know it’s the right decision and I feel victorious….but man, I am telling you, this is SO HARD. I'm not "leaving" Facebook forever; I’m just taking a break from it. It's consuming all of my free time.

Day 1 in Facebook rehab

  Hi, my name is ‘Kemi, and I’m a Facebook addict.

  I should have known better. The signs were there from the beginning, but I ignored them because I didn’t want to think I was the kind of person who had such a weak character. Officially, I don’t have an “addictive personality.” Or so I thought.

  I did allow myself to read the emails of postings and Inbox messages sent to my Yahoo mail account. Is that cheating or deal-making? I’m going to go with “no” on that one. After all, email is fair game.
Is that like saying I can drink beer but no alcohol? Well whatever, it’s just day 1 right? One day at a time. Friends were calling all day asking why I wasn’t on Facebook anymore that made it even more difficult.

  However my ruminations have led me to this succinct conclusion: Facebook is a cruel mistress indeed. (I am pretty sure I’m not the first one to say that. In fact, I’m almost positive I stole the phrase “Facebook is a cruel mistress” from one of my Friends. If it was you, please post a Comment on this page to garner the credit you so deserve. If nobody posts, then clearly I made it up myself.) Yes, as I so wittily and originally remarked, Facebook is a cruel mistress indeed. She takes and takes and takes until you find yourself huddled in a dark, cold room at an hour far past when all decent humans go to sleep with your eyeballs bleeding as you’re hunched over the computer with a self-inflicted case of osteoporosis, and you’re taking the “What Happy Days Character Are You?” quiz for the fourth time, hoping against hope that you don’t get Potsie again. 

Later at night…

  The whole house is quiet, tucked away in my bed I had that itchy fingers and I had them badly. Thinking “I wonder who is online right now. I wonder if someone wants to chat with me. Sometimes my sound alert doesn’t work on the Chat, so maybe someone is on there right now saying “You there? I see you online. Where are you? Why aren’t you answering me? Are you mad at me, ‘Kemi? How dare you! I hate you, and I’m de-Friending you right this second if you don’t answer me. Stuffs like that. Well but in the long run, maybe no one is missing me.

  Day 1 went well, stay tuned tomorrow for Day 2 in Facebook Rehab.

  I love you all………I really do.


One-third of the people on Facebook check their profile first thing in the morning, even before brushing their teeth or going to the bathroom. Shocked?  Yeah, me too.  It gets worse. Study shows that fifty-seven percent of women in the 18 to 34 age range say they talk to people online more than they have face-to-face conversations. Another 21% admit to checking Facebook in the middle of the night. (Happily, this is not me.)

I am (pathetically) guilty of this. It’s almost as if Facebook has become a snooze button, easing me from slumber with amusing status updates before I have to face the real world. Oh. God.  Sooo pathetic. But at least I’m not alone. Facebook makes you feel like you’re doing something while doing nothing and, yet, in its own way, makes you too tired thereafter to actually do something.

As my Facebook friends should realize by now, I have officially deactivated my Facebook. Many would ask why, let's just say I'm going through Rehab for abusing my time with Facebook instead of maximizing the use of my pathetic 2% brain cells.  I honestly do not know how long I can last without Facebook, but I’m determined. See my Fb friends on 18th April.


For My Mum

   I know I said I was taking a break, but I think I’m addicted to writing. Hmm well technically it’s not an addiction because addiction is any compulsive behavior that has a negative impact on your life; writing definitely brings the best out of me. Well not to deviate from the main point here, I was wondering why I was in a gloomy mood today and then it struck me that today is Mother’s day back in Nigeria and I miss my mum. In many countries around the world, Mother’s Day is in May but I guess ours is different. My mum is my best friend, she is everything a mother should be and I love her for that.

   I’m going to be writing an open letter to my mum with all my love. Mum in case you ever come across my website, this is for you and I hope that you will be proud of me.

Dear Mom,
  There is so much I want to say but honestly I do not know where to begin, you have gone through so much in years. Many of us know there is always good and bad when you are being raised as a child, but I would have to say you did an excellent job with raising all of us.

  When I was young I remember you bandaging my knees and kissing my cheeks. You taught all of us how to be little ladies and men, you certainly did not wish for us to act like spoiled little brats! We learned manners, how to sit, when to keep our skirts down and our trousers up. Spankings were allowed when we were growing up and it hasn't seemed to harm me in anyway, it certainly did not make me cold or bitter.  A spanking here and there, it made me respects your point and now I realize what a hard head I was, but mom that is another discussion.

  I have always being optimistic and truly I try to find good in everyone, even when they upset me or break my heart. I have gotten that from you, people may say that you are naive', but what I believe is that you have given me a gift, it has been a beautiful gift, how many people can say that there heart is so giving? You have giving me the gift of being creative, strength and belief in myself. You see mom although we may not have always met eye to eye on certain things you supported me regardless if I was wrong. You gave me wings to fly when I was young and pushed me out of the nest, the love you had when we hit the ground was the most unconditional love any mother could give. You let me back into the nest to gather my feathers and let me fly again until I was able to fly on my own.

  At the time I left for Uni at age 17 I mostly felt relief. I wanted to get out of the house more than anything in the world but it took me many years to begin to understand the love and care that you provided me when I was younger. Though you seldom or maybe never received a word of thanks, you cooked for me, bought and washed my clothes, arranged for me to take lessons, and went to work for me. Mostly you heard complaints and how I made noises when I wanted something I didn't have. Thank you for your patience, love and care for those first 17 years of my life. Thank you for making sure I had food when I came home. Thank you for encouraging me in school. All of your concrete efforts became part of me.

  There are so many more stories that I could write about but you know that they are wonderful memories forever etched in my heart and locked in a precious box in my mind and that I thank you from the bottom of my heart to the tips of my toes. I wish you a heartfelt, happy mother's day!!
Your Lovely Daughter

P. S.
Below is a quaint poem I recited a lot when I was little, I’m sure we’ve all come across this poem at one point in our childhood.  It is called “My Mother”. It was written by Ann Taylor (1783 –1866). She’s the sister of Jane Taylor, the author of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. Ann and Jane published books of rhymes and poems together.

My Mother
Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush’d me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.

When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet hushaby,
And rock’d me that I should not cry?
My Mother.

Who sat and watched my infant head,
When sleeping in my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who dress’d my doll in clothes so gay,
And taught me pretty how to play.
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God’s holy book and day.
And walk in Wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me?
My Mother

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away.
My Mother

And when I see thee hang thy head,
‘Twill be my turn to watch thy bed.
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.

For could our Father in the skies
Look down with pleased or loving eyes,
If ever I could dare despise
My Mother.

Pet Peeves: From a Ramblers point of view.

  These are some of my pet peeves.   Annoying little things that just drive me CRAZY!   I've also included a few things that probably don't fall so much under pet peeves as just things I really dislike! 

·         Grocery carts with one bad wheel or any other non-working parts.

·         Turning on the room light w/o warning, thus ensuring a victim's pupils are fully dilated. 

·          Anybody showing up more than an hour late when I've cooked a very fancy meal.

·         Shouting "drop it" the moment a conversation veers into an unwanted direction.

·         Lying - No one appreciates being lied to- especially when the lies are trivial, unnecessary and constant.  It is very frustrating for a person to have to deal with someone who constantly lies about every little thing. Not only is it annoying, but makes one wonder if there are bigger lies that they are not even aware about, creating major trust issues.

·         Hangers: how they get all tangled with each other.

·         Negative people: Nobody can be positive and optimistic all the time, but someone who is negative all the damn time just drags me down and drains my energy. I can't deal with that. I won't deal with that. I wouldn't ever date someone who didn't have something nice to say, or someone who claimed to hate "all people". It is such a turn-off. 

·         Car passengers that throw their doors wide open without first checking for obstacles.

·         Swinging a cigarette wildly while making way through a crowd.

·         Being put on the speakerphone without warning.

·         Guilt and Greed messages:  You know the ones I'm talking about. A lot of them have really great content in them but when you get to the end they hit you either with greed (send this to at least 10 people in the next 5 minutes and you're wishes will all come true) or with guilt (send this on to everyone on your mailing list if you're not ashamed of Jesus. 

      People yelling on their cell phones in public.

·         Inconsistency:  Nothing is more irritating and hurtful than a person who makes promises and breaks them over and over again. It shows lack of consideration for the other’s feelings and also means the person cannot be trusted or relied on. I would rather you say you’re not going to do something than for you to say you will and not do it. 

·         Immaturity.

·         How Americans say “I could care less”. How can half a nation not realize that this phrase means you do care?

·         People who don't flush the toilet. These people surely flush at home; why in the hell don't they flush anywhere else.

·         People who call you and demand, "Who's this?

·         Getting up early.

·         Pricing items at 3.99, 4.99, etc. It's not fooling anyone.

·         The way your nose begins to itch when you can't scratch...while washing dishes, e.t.c.

·         Heartburn.

·         Having no money when you finally see an item you've been looking to buy for a long time.

·         People who promise to return your phone calls and never do.

·         People who think that being a good father is just providing money and leaving everything else to the mother.

·         Men who refer to caring for their own children as "babysitting"

P.S. I think I might be taking sometime off here, probably for a week or two. I might be coming down with a writers block. :) Ok, no I'm not, but then I have a lot going on in my life right now(mainly school stuffs anyway) and I simply need time to sort them out. I might be back before you say Jack Robinson.


Worry Series Part 1

Last week I threw out Worrying,
It was getting old and in the way.
It kept me from being me;
I couldn't do things my way.

I threw out those Inhibitions;
They were just crowding me out.
Made room for my New Growth,
Got rid of my old dreams and doubts.

I threw out a book on My Past
(didn't have time to read it anyway)
Replaced it with New Goals,
Started reading it today.

I threw out childhood toys
Remember how I treasured them so?
Got me a new Philosophy too,
Threw out the one from long ago

Brought in some new books too,
Called I Can, I Will, and I Must.
Threw out I might, I think and I ought.
Wow! You should've seen the dust.

I picked up this special thing
And placed it at the front door.
I Found It -- its called Peace
Nothing gets me down anymore.

Yes, I've got my house looking nice.
Looks good around the place
For things like Worry and Trouble
There just isn't any place.

Its good to do a little house cleaning,
Get rid of the old things on the shelf.
It sure makes things brighter
Thank you God for cleaning up my-self.

Being Friends With Your Ex.

  When you first break up with someone, for females, the immediate reactions is to text their girlfriends and dish all the bad gossip out. Even if it is slightly exaggerated. Why the heck do girls do this? Because they are hurting. This is how most of the younger, twenty something population adjusts to the fact they now have to change their status from "In a Relationship" to "Single" on Facebook and deal with the 19 comments an hour of ":(" or "whaaaat?" and even the "good for you" comments. It's painful to deal with.

   Fast forward a few months when you can no longer stuff one more spoonful of Ice cream into your mouth and you've literally talked so many smacks on your ex that your friends are starting to avoid you. This is slowly when you undergo the transition of initial shock of a break up to "Oh my God! I'm single, yeah!" And then just as you're really getting into enjoying single life ... it happens. That oh so familiar text alert rings and your heart starts racing. You haven't heard that text alert in... Wait, was it a week ago? Two weeks ago? A year? Wasn't it during that date you were on and you seemed to have taken it as a sign at the time, but brushed it off?

  A "Hey, thinking of you, hope you're well" every once in a while from the ex can do one of two things. One - it can rope you back in. A few simple texts here and there turn into lengthy conversations (that 9 times out of 10 will turn into a conversation that pisses the other person off) but before you know it you start thinking about what the two of you were, and why did you break up again? Or you can continue the short conversation here and there and eventually establish a friendship realizing you two just weren't right for each other as boyfriend/girlfriend but fabulous as just friends.

  Wait! What did I just say? Total concept most people can't seem to get their head around. Being friends with your exes. But for me, and I've said this before, I love getting to know the person I'm dating -- the thrill and excitement, making memories, the whole nine. So for me to treat an ex like a gangrene limb just doesn't happen for me -- I mean, seriously, how can you avoid it? (Please do not ever Google this if you have a weak stomach! Ew.)  The answer is, it can't be avoided. At one point or another you need to make that decision to remain friends (treat your nasty limb) or be an amputee for a little - realizing that with each relationship, an ex takes a little bit away from you. 

   Personally, I always opt for the friend route. Every guy I've ever dated -- remains my friend. It's not that I'm keeping them on the backburner.  On the contrary, I at one point in my life, established a great relationship with them where I trusted them and enjoyed their company. For me, after you go through the sad part of a relationship, after you delete their number, delete them from Facebook, delete them from your life and take time to reflect on what happened, you can do this... that's when you realize if you can be their friends or not. And most importantly, you have to make sure there is no emotional tension still there. If you still feel some, distance yourself until you don't have the urgency to hug them or do something stupid. Give it some time, come back later, and try again.

   Being friends with your ex can be intimidating to a new person you're letting in to your life, but for me, if they aren't confident with what they have to offer/are bringing to the relationship table and are too busy focusing on their friendship with an ex, then they just aren't worth it.  The key to any friendship with your ex is the same as any regular friendship once you spend some time apart and accept you'll only have a friendship. Those keys? Well, to me, a friend is someone who offers support and comfort when you need it, someone who is devoted and loyal (so when you are going through a breakup they'll be there to talk you through it.... or buy you icecream, however you handle it best).  But a friend will speak constructively, tell you the things you don't want to hear, but should.  And mostly they'll help you through whatever it is you're going through. If your ex can be those things, then regardless of where you left off romantically, I'd say you did a pretty swell job at holding on to a great person in your life.

I'm a People Pleaser - No Longer!

Do you know someone who....

tries hard to fit in?  
works hard to achieve perfection?
sets unrealistic goals?
strives to please others but ultimately isn't pleasing themselves?

Is that someone you? 

  I know sometime I fall into this trap.  I want to be accepted by my peers, I want to be part of the 'in crowd'.  I look back to when I was younger, when I was in high school, I realize how silly it was to try be part of the 'in crowd'.  I did a lot of things to try and fit in... some of the things I am not proud of but at the time all I wanted was to fit in.  I quickly realized that being part of the 'in crowd' was not all it was cracked up to be, and after many lessons I decided being part of the 'in crowd' was not worth it and I was just happy being me in my own little group of one.  

  Funny thing is now many years later and a few years wiser I still want to be a part of that 'in crowd'.  
I want to be friends with the bloggers I admire, I want to be a part of that group of ladies at church who always seem so happy.  I've realized that I CAN be a part of that group and I can be friends with the bloggers I admire.  The most important thing I have to remember is that I need to stay true to who I am and if I'm not accepted for who I am it's better to just move on.  We don't gain points in heaven for how popular your friends were here on earth.

   I have always put a lot of pressure on myself to achieve perfection.  I knew in my mind and heart no one is perfect, but even still I always strive for perfection.  Even though I try my best in everything I do I often disappoint myself because I believe I could do better.  This was really prevalent in my life while I was going to high school, I tried my best but sometimes I missed the mark and I would beat myself up about it.  I had to work really hard for the marks I got and let me tell you they weren't anything special, I didn't give myself any slack (I don't think that's a bad thing) but I still wanted to achieve perfection.  

  I still expect perfection but it's not measured by grades but rather my achievements in life and what I expect of myself.  Sometimes those goals are unrealistic like living without any debt and working a job with security, a six figure income, benefits and where I love going to work every day. Some times the goals I set for myself are unrealistic and unattainable right now!  I know these goals are attainable but it may not be now... I may be debt free 20 years from now but I want it now and that's the problem when I set goals that are unrealistic.  

On top of all this the worst thing of all is I'm a PEOPLE PLEASER!!! 

  I've strived to please my parents ever since I can remember and I still strive to please them.  I want them to be proud of me, of what I do, and of who I am as a person.   I often find myself dreaming about my life and what I'd like it to be but then the questions start popping into my mind 

"what will my family think?"
"will my parents be proud?"
 and "will my friends support me?"

  Being a people pleaser has caused  problems in my life.... I'm often not reaching for my dreams, I am too worried about what others will think, which means I'm pleasing everyone but myself. 

It's time to start chasing my dreams and start pleasing the one that matters!


Since today is women’s day and I am practically a woman of substance I decided to write out 25 reasons why I would stay been a woman.....

1. I am wonderfully and gorgeously made
2. There are many hands to lift me when i slip to the ground. Poor men they have to get up on their own.
3. Men hold the door open for me.
4. I can easily show my disappointments or disapprovals, poor men....they can’t help the ego.
5. Even strangers shows care if i am in trouble. Men have to manage themselves
6. I can cry in public. Men can’t without been frowned upon
7. I never run out of excuses
8. I don't have to worry if I am short. Men still like me
9. I am flexible
10. When I get upset, I don't destroy property or hurt people - I just take it out on the world in general because I can
11. Easy to make friends.
12. I have a higher tolerance to pain
13. I can connive men into doing my homework, writing my papers or carrying my books anytime I want.
14. I don't bother if my IQ level is less. Just a smile is enough
15. I can throw a punch at a man and not get hit in return.
16. I don't have to lie to boast myself better
17. I don't get embarrassed when buying tampons
18. I have better fashion sense
19. I am a better shopper
20. I don't have to make fools out of myself to impress a man
21. I don't need an excuse to be in a bad mood.
22. If I was on a ship with a man, I will get saved first.
23. When I follow a guy around, we are groupies, but when a guy follows me around he is a stalker.
24. I don't destroy things.
25. Without me....someone out there has his ribs missing for a lifetime...

Ladies out there I just want you all to know we are worth more been who we are...don’t let anyone out there intimidate you or reprimand you...You have a value!!!

FCS TERNOPIL: Inductive bible study on John Chapter 11

   I attend a fellowship of Christian students here in Ternopil Ukraine, and recently I did some teachings about Inductive Bible study. It took me three Sundays to complete :) but I have one video for now, I will upload the rest probably later. Just so you know I was a bit nervous, so I kept making simple mistakes :P but all the same God always has his ways. So all in all to God be the glory.

Unstructured Ramblings

   A friend once told me that I am the kind of girl who likes to have control over her heart, in other words I hardly fall in love, or show that I like someone and even when I get hurt I move on like nothing happened. I guess he was right to an extent, I like to stay in control of my feelings and that makes it hard for me to show my sentimental side at times.  So early last year I made a decision to face my feelings and my fears and let people in, I concluded that if I am as strong as they say then maybe I will find a way never to get hurt, but the truth is there is never a guaranty that you won’t get hurt.

  Well, something happened recently that reminded me of why I never ever let my guards down. It reminded me that I put a protective covering over my heart not because I am strong or independent, it’s because deep inside I am emotionally weak and it pays to have people think I have a strong emotional hold. Truthfully I think I'm scared to fall in love. I have this strong urge to go back to my favorite thought which is -“People meet, sometimes they date, sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes people get married. That doesn't always work either. Why should you think that just because one person doesn't like you the same way you like them makes it a life sentence? Forgive, forget, and get on with your life”. That’s the way I see it.

I’m in this phase now where I’m confused because despite my strict adherence to logic and reason, and despite my perceived dominion over my feelings, the how and why of when I snapped out of my emotional unavailability was completely out of my control. It just happened.

Sometimes while I get busy trying to keep everything inside, to protect others from my feelings I lose myself.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to let go..


Tick Tock Tick….

Goes the Clock……

Friends With Benefits Is An Oxymoron

  “Friends with benefits” is an oxymoron. Exactly what benefits do you have in a situation like this?
You don’t have the benefit of being long term friends, because the sex always gets in the way. There are some  “friends with benefits” situations, although fewer than you would think where both parties do not want more, neither hopes it becomes more, and the situation ends on a positive note. So who is really benefiting from this arrangement?

  “Friends with benefits” rarely, if ever, leads to a healthy relationship. So those entering into situations like this hoping it will lead to more are disappointed and hurt when it doesn’t turn out as they hoped. People who think they can use each other for meaningless sex and keep their friendship intact are deluding themselves because the friendship almost always ends badly. What kind of friend wants to use you for sex but doesn’t like you enough to try a relationship with you? Not a very good one! What kind of friend thinks that you should let someone (even them) use you for sex? A real friend? No. So not only are there no real benefits, but there is no real friendship either. If the two of you are “such good friends” why would you risk losing the friendship for sex?

  So is the term “friends with benefits” a less offensive way of describing a booty-call? Yeah, that sounds about right, considering they are pretty much one and the same. Both can be defined as casual sex with no strings attached. (And almost always someone wanting more, but getting hurt in the end).

SOUNDS AWESOME DOESN’T IT? < —note: sarcasm

  So who came up with this “friends with benefits” crap and decided to try and make it a mainstream “good idea”? (Also, please tell me why it seems to be working while you are at it.) Who is it that really “benefits” here? People that want to use other people for sex and have no strings attached. That’s who.

  I guess it just sounds better to some people to have a person tell them they want to be friends with benefits than to simply say I want to have sex with you and maybe hang out with you a little here and there but that is it. It may sound better, but it still sucks and is disrespectful. Why aren't people more insulted when someone offers them something as lame as this? If some guy walked up to you and told you “Hey, I want to get you in the sack but am offering you nothing but alleged friendship” wouldn't you think “What a FREAK!”? And wouldn't you also feel insulted while contemplating stomping his nuts into powder? You should! Being offered the “friends with benefits” package of bullshit should make you think and feel the same way. That is bad enough coming from a stranger, but from your friend? What kind of friends do you have for God’s sakes?

Believe it or not 'friends with benefits' is an oxymoron.

Friends or Close Friends ?

  I believe most of us unconsciously make differences between friends and close friends. To me, friends are those I hang around with. We share common interests, talk about a lot of interesting things and do some activities together. They are friends to me. But I realize that even though they are my friends, it doesn’t necessarily mean I can talk my problems with them.

   My close friends, on the other hand, are those whom I can always share with, whom I turn to when I am faced with challenges. Their existences affect me as a person. In other word, I do consider their opinions in decision making, and their lifestyles can easily influence me. To be honest, I do choose my close friends. I don’t mean to boast, but it is true that you can easily be my friend but not be my close friend. You need to gain my trust to be one. And that’s the reason I do hurt when I realize those whom I thought close friends were actually not.

   What I am saying here is actually the reflection of my value-Accepting. I accept everyone to be my friends but I don’t accept everyone to be my close friends. It sounds harsh, huh? But even the bible warns us to choose our friends carefully (Proverbs 12:26). If I translate the verse into my daily life, it says to me that I am supposed to choose my close friends, who can influence me with their thinking and lifestyle, on the other hand, accepting means to accept everyone inside out. I am learning how to accept everyone completely as my friends. What I mean by inside out here is that I don’t want to smile at a person while I actually curse him or her in my heart. The word “curse” simply means the opposite of “bless”. If you don’t bless a person, the other only possibility is that you curse that person.

   How about those who do not accept us? Those who are not worth of our acceptance? Do we still have to accept them? What if they even harm us? Stabbed behind our back? One amazing part of Jesus’ teaching is to love your neighbors, including loving your enemy. Again, if I translate it to my daily life (I’m not a bible scholar though =P), enemy includes those who reject you, those who you thought friends but they had stabbed behind your back, and even those simply hate you for no reasons. You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Matthew 5:43)

   Now consider why Jesus would want us to love others even if they persecute us! The answer is as simple as to practice God’s love. Weren’t we once God’s enemy? Yet He accepts us! Were we actually worthy of God’s acceptance? No! What do we have to offer when we were living in our sinful lives? Nothing! We have received love from God, and that should be our power to love others.

   Yes, I choose my close friends. But I don’t have a choice to choose my friends, because by His love, it is enough for us to even love our enemies. He wants me to change my enemy attitude inside me to be a friend attitude.

   To do God’s command, it does take faith. It is by faith that we see God taking care of everything, including our heart, disappointment and anger. It is by faith that God’s love is able to change our situation, even to change from an enemy to a friend.

On My Wishlist.

   I am so caught up trying to figure out what to get everyone else that I don't stop to ponder what is on my wish list. I realized some days ago that I have a whole lots of wants myself, yeah wants because they are not really needed per say, maybe that is why they belong on the wish list? I have pretty long wishlist, I agree, but I've high expectations  :)

1. Charming Pink Hello Kitty pajamas nightwear suit

2. John Grisham's Calico Joe

3. Ladies' Fashion Suede Buckle Strap Platform Wedge 

 4.Burberry Prorsum Jumpsuit

5. High Waisted Pencil Skirt

6. Lanvin Womens Flannel High-top Sneakers

 8. Amazon Kindle/Barnes and Noble nook tablet

9. "Existence" by Abbi Glines 

10.Happiness, health, and love

Challenges of dating me

8 Fears I have about Dating

Liking you too much
You not liking me as much
You leaving me for someone else
You cheating on me - with anyone!
Rats. Okay. Really not love related but I hate rats and if you can keep me calm during a rat episode. I’ll know you care about me. :P
Cooking you something disgusting. Haha, seriously.
Farting/Burping before we’re at the proper “fart/burp” comfort-level
My family/friends/roommates/coworkers not liking you when I really do.

7 Wants — I’m not asking for much, just these 7 things... And maybe a few more, but these 7 are important to me.  

Non-shady individual. If you're hiding your phone from me or just being secretive about what you're doing, I will get really angry.
Someone who has a life!
Someone I can make weird noises around and dance like a goof but still be viewed as pretty normal
A person that understands how consumed with work I am and be nonjudgmental about my desire to work.
Loyalty is pretty big.
If you can communicate your problems (“I feel” messages!!!) then you are definitely someone I want to date.
Someone who will defend me if need be. If your friend says something mean about me, I sure do expect you to stand up for me regardless of how long you & friend have been friends for. I would do the same for you because I care about you. That, and it’s just plain nice to show you care.

6 Loves — Do these and I’ll like you loads!

1. Make me coffee
2. Make me anything for that matter
3. Take dumb pictures together. A bunch of ‘em, too
4. Make playlists for one another. Seriously, I’m such girl though, so I'll overanalyze every lyric to every song you put on it. No but really.
5. Scream and cheer with me for our favorite sports teams
6. be able to enjoy one another’s company. We don’t need to be up each other’s butts’ 24/7. If we can sit in the same room and do our own individual thing without feeling ignored, then that’s good, too!

3 Places I will take you or ask you to go with me

Cinema/Park-  I will want you as my companion because let’s be real, someone else is going to try to be  if you don't.
Paris : Ohhhh!!! Adventures! Come with me anywhere the wind takes us!
Like I said before, if I bring you home to mom & dad, to the roommates, to my coworkers, to my friends — you are really liked. Don’t mess it up or my heart will break and I’ll be upset!!