Saturday, September 30, 2006

Just thought I'd share

I’m very confident. I used to love guys with bow- legs and pink lips. I still do. I don’t wear any makeup other than lipgloss. I’m addicted to Lancome Juicy Tubes lipgloss in ‘Miracle’ and ‘Beach Plum’. I always wear chapstick before lipgloss. My lips crack if I don’t. I started reading romance novels at 11. I had my first boyfriend at 13. He looked like he belonged in a romance novel. I have 9 piercings in total. I’ve never had fake nails. I love Cher and Ellen Degeneres. Michael Buble, Christina Aguilera, John Legend, Awilo Longomba, Corinne Bailey Rae, India Arie and Celine Dion sing the musical soundtrack to my life. I don't think Ricky Martin is gay. Apparently, I’m funny and laugh at my own jokes. People love to be around me. I’m a good judge of character. I used to have a great singing voice. I love country music. I’m very friendly. I love kissing. I’m fanatic about cheesecake. I’m a shopaholic. I like comedians that are either incredibly smart or incredibly stupid. I prefer Just For Laughs Gags, Ali G and the Colbert Report to Dave Chappelle. I didn’t know Tupac Shakur or Biggie till years after they died. I'm a very fast reader. I love to pray for orphans. I love Strawberry Margaritas and Pineapple Malibus. I don’t like my father. I love to write. I still have stuff I wrote when I was 13. I love abstract things. I’d rather see Sade in concert than 50 cent. I’m smarter than I let on. I switch accents easily. I used to hate people. When I'm bored, I think of wittier ways to say things that I've said before. I’m quite aware of my sexuality. I’d love to get married at 26 or 27. I’ve never seen a midget. My mom wants me to be a doctor. I’ll be a doctor.


I wish I spoke French. I’ve never bought a cell phone before. I’ve had 6 cellphones so far. I cry easily- for commercials, songs, tv shows, movies. I’ve never cried during or after a relationship. I’ve never watched a horror movie in a theater. I have 6 best friends. I don’t share their secrets. I love dancing to Makossa. I’m really good at it. I’ve never dated ‘non- black’. I’ve dated an older man (7 years older). I lost my virginity to him. I still regret that it was with him. I want to travel the world before I go to Med school. I’ve never been to a zoo. I know the lyrics to more than 2,000 songs. I love spider solitaire. I still don’t know how to play the FREECELL game on my computer. I’m an Aquarius. I love cranberry juice. I’ve called a psychic line once. I’m not in contact with any of my friends in Nigeria. I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. I’ve never watched gay porn. I want to. I can dance to reggaeton but not salsa. I love Ghanaian food. I’m addicted to spicy shrimp. I get embarrassed for people when they do really weird things. I get ‘re-embarrased’ when I remember embarrassing things I did/ said before. Red is my favorite colour. I only wear red nail polish on my feet. I’d love to have 3 children and adopt 2 more. I don’t remember my dreams. Only nightmares. I’m addicted to stilettos. I’d die for my sister. I’ve never told her that. I aspire to greatness. To be great is to be happy. I have great boobs and incredibly long legs. I wanna get a bikini wax. I’m perversely happy when I’m prettier than an ex’s current girlfriend. I don’t keep in touch with ex boyfriends. I don't see the point. I haven’t been to church in a year. I don’t like my mom’s church. I love God.


YOU'VE BEEN TAGGED IF YOU'RE READING THIS!!!

Friday, September 29, 2006

Dedication to the first guy who ate me out

I was going through my inbox a little while ago and I saw an old email from an ex, and it gave me great memories, so I had to shout him out:


AP, You introduced me to some kind of pleasure

You weren’t that great and sometimes tried to use your teeth to chew my clit

But at least you ‘tried’… it was your first time too

I was a virgin, and every guy who’d tried to finger or fuck me I’d stopped… that shit hurt… but not you, cos you gave me great ‘oral’.

You gave me a priceless gift worth more than jade… you ate that shit up.

I can’t remember the first guy I kissed at 6, can’t stand the first guy I fucked at 19, but you will forever have a special place in my heart for introducing me to the world of oral orgasms

I thank you wholeheartedly and dedicate my next 15 to you.


*I approach this Nigerian Independence weekend almost with trepidation cos I think a few things are gonna come to a head and I’m not necessarily looking forward to it… I didn’t mind the way things used to be with this ‘friend’… but he's coming down to 'see me'. I think I know what he's gonna say, and FUCK, now I just might have to analyse the relationship I have with him*

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

To be Loved

I went partying on Friday and had a dance performance on Saturday, so the only time I could see my boyfriend was on Sunday. He came over with a bottle of champagne, A Nigerian movie (I know… I got him into those now… he’s fanatic about those two short boys), a journal to write in cos he knows I write all over odd pieces of paper and lose them, and a “Thinking Of You” Card. Here’s what he wrote inside:

I miss your kiss

I miss your touch

I miss seeing your face when I wake up

I think of you when I’m alone

I think of you when I’m with my boys

I think of you whenever I’m down cos you bring me joy

I love your face

I love your mind

I love the thought that you’re all mines

I love the moments that we share

I love the clothes that you wear

I love the fact that to you none of my ex’s can compare

This card is a small token to let you know you’re on my mind wherever I go

ps. You’re adored and appreciated

Lol.. I know…. Awwwwwwwwww... he’s a sweetheart.

We hugged, kissed and made music (lol). Just lying there, fiddling with the non- existent hairs on his chest, he proceeds to give me the shock of my life:

Baby, I’m in love with you

Overwhelmed: Are you kidding me?

No, I mean it. I’ve never felt this way about anybody… everything is just so easy with you… I could be with you forever.

I was speechless, didn’t know what to do or say…. In love with me? Be with me forever? This was just all too soon for me…. I mean I thought we’d already addressed that… I’ve never been in love with anyone, and neither had he, so we figured we were perfect together… there’d be no lies, fake promises, just a genuine care for each other and enjoyment of each others company. We were just open to seeing where things went… now he just had to go and fall in love with me.

Now I’ll feel terrible everytime he says it and I don’t reply…. cos he’s in love with me

Now I can’t hurt him... cos he’s in love with me

Now I’ll feel responsible if we ever broke up… cos he’s in love with me

I know you can’t control the way other people feel about you… but a part of me just wishes he’d waited a little while longer to fall in love with me... cos maybe, just maybe, by then, I’d have fallen in love with him too.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Part 3: Nigerian guys that I’ve dated or almost dated

Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a Naija guy bashing post… just my encounters. I’ve had some great and some terrible dating experiences, but all in all it’s been an interesting journey. Here’s the third and final part of the write-up:

Two months before I turned 20, I met KD at an African party… I looked hot and was dancing up a storm. At one point, I got too sweaty and went outside for fresh air, which was being ruined by some old men who were smoking their cancer sticks and trying to hit on me at the same time. A tall light skinned brother steps up to me and engages me in conversation with the very original “You look familiar”. I was in a good mood so I didn’t shoot him down… just gave him the digits so we could explore this ‘familiarity’. He was Igbo, 24, nice, handsome, funny and the first Naija guy whom I absolutely loved his accent. I ended up really liking the dude and he really liked me. We’d gone on a couple dates- dinner, movie, stripclub, lunch... you name it. We were like an unofficial couple(it was more of an unspoken agreement as I hadn’t officially said yes to him). This was the first and only naija guy I ever had sex with… it was uninspiring cos he thought he was the shiznit and just wasn’t. The only thing that wasn’t average about him was his fucking stomach… I just hated his belly rubbing against me for some reason. He was also very instructional in the bedroom which is a big turn-off for me… I’m all for letting the other person know what and how you want it… but when you’re a bloody drill sergeant… FUCK YOURSELF!!! That stuff also showed outside the bedroom; he was a control freak- had something to say about what gum I chewed, perfume I wore, my jewelry, clothes… just everything. I probably could’ve been sucked into his vortex if I wasn’t so damn independent myself. I think the problem was the fact that he knew I was Igbo and wanted me to have a ‘back-home’ attitude, which I saw no need for. I mean the first time we had sex, nigga wanted me to fix his bed after because he found it sexy when a girl did that.WTF!?!?!?! I told him how much hotter it was to me when a guy did that… lol... I know; we clashed. For some strange reason, we still liked each other, but after a while, it became obvious we would just argue each other out of happiness… we let it go. A month later, KD starts calling me apologizing; he wanted me back cos he’s fanatic about me and would love to make it up to me. I’d never gotten back with an ex and wasn’t willing to… but he wasn’t anything if not persistent. I eventually agreed to go on a dinner and movie date. It was an emotionally charged dinner. Afterwards, I thought KD was driving me home, but we ended up at his house… cos he wanted to ‘change’ for the movie…. Lol… sure, buddy (Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, SHAME ON ME). His controlling attitude was still a turn-off… nah, I wasn’t going back for more. I still don’t return his phone calls or emails, but he’s probably the only naija ex in Canada that I’ll say hi to if I see him on the street and that’s SAYING SOMETHING.


At 20, I met TD at a Ghanaian party (lol… I know... me and African parties… I’m a self-professed Makossa addict). Homeboy was looking mighty elegant in white; he approached me at just the right moment cos this Ghanaian boy was disrupting my dance-flow. I could tell TD was a Lagosian when he started pulling out some serious Daddy Showkey and Baba Fryo moves… we rocked that dancefloor. He was 27, a master’s degree holder, excellent dresser, and all-around cute Yoruba boy ... only his accent left something to be desired. I gave him the digits and we started talking… damn, he was smart, funny, witty… he actually got my ‘intellectual jokes’ not just the clowning and dirty jokes. I liked!!! We went on so many dates… movie, lunch, bars, dinner you name it. we’d been casually dating for about a month or two and still hadn’t kissed… I just wasn’t sure that I liked him in that way. One day, a really ‘fateful’ day, he came to take me out... we had a blast… game arcade (lol... I know… I’m up for all sorts of fun), then a club. A lot of his friends happened to be there and were feeling your girl cos I was looking mighty fine if I do say so myself. Homeboy got jealous and started getting all possessive on my ass…hehe. Anyways, on our way home, nigga starts complaining bout he’s drunk. In my head I laugh: OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK… HE ONLY HAD TWO BEERS. I HADN’T BEEN DATING ALL MY LIFE TO FALL FOR THAT.

TD drove me 45 minutes home with no swerving or strange activity… but he’s drunk?!?!?! I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for a great evening

TD: I’m drunk… why can’t I just come in and crash at your place?

Overwhelmed: sweetie, you drove me 45 minutes home so I think it’s safe to say you’ll be fine… but I can talk to you on the phone on your drive home to keep you company.

TD: Overwhelmed, I am drunk… I drank more beers outside when you weren’t looking with my boys

On the real, what kind of fool did he take me for? Apparently he had a Masters Degree In Manipulation, he just doesn’t know that I teach that same class, just in a different university.

TD: Seriously Overwhelmed, I wanna ask you a question… Are you a lesbian?

I gave him a piece of my mind and left his damn car…WTF!?!?!? FUCKING IDIOT. So because I didn’t let him into my house… all of a sudden, I’m a lesbian. Was he planning to come into my house to ‘crash’ or to ‘try to fuck’? LOUSY FOOL!!!


About a month later, I met WL at a Nigerian party. He was tall, nice, 24 and cute. He was a serious ‘yoppy’ boy (Good-time boy… wanting to grind on me to Shina Peters…lol). Gave him the digits and he called me right there to see if I’d given him the right number (Strike 1… As a man, be confident in your game or at least pretend to be). He calls me the day after trying to set up a date (Strike 2… too eager… don’t try to book a date the first time you talk to me on the phone… get to know me a little first). Worst strike of all… nigga starts spitting naija game at me… something about I’m so sexy… he would love for me to be his girl

Me: Sugarboy, you just met me yesterday

WL: I know, but I like everything about you already; I’m a man who knows what I want

That just threw me off… dude just had to be kidding me. Over the next few weeks he kept his thing up… we hadn’t even been on a first date, and this nigga was already telling me he was falling in love with me and wanted to make me his wife eventually.

Now admittedly, I AM all shades of sexy… but this coming from a guy I barely knew… hmmm. Homeboy wouldn’t let up... seeing as he was a nice guy in spite of some of his obvious bullshit, I told him:

“Listen WL… you’re throwing me off with this stuff. If I was blonde or Jamaican, I probably wouldn't know 'typical naija rap' and might’ve fallen for that… but I lived in Lagos and Port Harcourt so I recognize the lyrics. If you really wanna get to know me, be yourself and we’ll see where things go from there.”

WL: Seriously Overwhelmed, I mean every word I said, I really feel that way about you.

I realized he was out of his mind and quickly put him in the ‘friend zone’… I never went on that date with him, talked to him infrequently and after a while… he got it. We became close after a while and guess what I found out… HOMEBOY HAD TWO CHILDREN AND WAS LIVING WITH HIS BABY MAMA. I know… WTF? When he told me this, I was obviously sooo surprised, but we were friends now, so I asked him casually:

“Ah, you self WL… so you have 2 kids and a live- in baby mama and you still wanted to razzle me?

WL laughed and said “Sorry jare, baby girl, I was just trying my luck”

Imagine the conconbility!?!?!? trying his luck on me overwhelmed naija babe! i look like the lottery?

After having ‘dated or almost dated’ the guys that I’ve talked about in my last three posts and some dudes from other countries, I can’t tell you enough how great it’s been with the boyfriend… No more UNDERAGE SLEEPOVERS, CHEEKBONE AND JEANS DRAMA, HIDDEN BABY CHRISTENINGS, MARRIED MAN MANIA, SURPRISE TRIPS TO MOTELS, YORUBA LANGUAGE MISCONDUCT, CONTROL ISSUES, PRETEND DRUNKENNESS and LOTTERY GAMBLING ON MY ASS.

I dedicate my last three posts to all the dudes I’ve mentioned cos in their own unique ways they’ve taught me, helped me grow and blossom into the “OVERWHELMED NAIJA BABE” that I am today.

Damn, at 20, I’ve LIVED.

This is looking forward to the next batch of problems in my current and future relationships.


THE END



Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Part 2: Nigerian guys that I’ve dated or almost dated

I’m probably only writing in this much detail cos my blog is anonymous. Looking back on a lot of it now, I did some stupid shit back in the day… but as Stella Obasanjo might say now if she could: “Hindsight is 20/20”

At 18, I met this Yoruba guy AM at an African Picnic, he was 24 , nice, alright looking, and had a good job. From the get- go, dude was a softie. On our first date he took me, my best friend and brother’s girlfriend to dinner. Boy, did we spend his money, Lol…second date, he got me a cell phone. We started dating a few weeks later; he was nice- maybe too nice. I’d piss him off and he’d call me back to apologize, the one time he actually did something wrong, he took me serious shopping at GUESS. My friends liked him, my sister liked him, I liked him, but my major problem was that I had more strength of will than he did… I mean every girl wants a man who’s a MAN. One Friday like that, I went to spend the weekend at his house with my best friend; apparently he had a serious work meeting to attend on Sunday morning. On Saturday morning, he tells us he’s going to buy a suit for the meeting and comes back in the evening with a brand new designer suit and video camera. I’m thinking video camera for what? Was Bill Gates or President Bush going to be at the meeting? But my best friend told me I was wilding out so I decided to keep shut. Homeboy left on Sunday morning and came back at night. He wouldn’t show us the taping of the all- important meeting; apparently the video camera didn’t work there… Hmmm. During that time period, I’d become really close to his best friend HS, and you just won’t believe what HS told me a week later- my boyfriend AM’s 'sunday work meeting' had actually been his child’s christening. CHILD?!?!?! CHRISTENING WHO? WHAT? WHEN? HOW? WHY? I called AM and broke up with him … since in our 3-4 months of dating he’d hidden that and lied to my face, I could never trust him again about anything. He started begging; I just cursed him out and hung up. Negro was calling the hell out of my phone (lol... yes, I know, his phone if you wanted to be technical about things), I never picked up, so he resorted to calling me private and breathing into my damn ears till I told him I’d call the cops. About two days later, walking home from a lecture, I saw AM in the parking lot of my residence, he came to talk to me and started apologizing… it was over with his baby mama, but he just had to be there for the kid and just didn’t know how to tell me blah blah blah… I obviously wasn’t having it… but to my shock and surprise… homeboy started crying. WTF!!! Wow, I couldn’t not forgive him, but I specifically asked if there was any other thing he was hiding from me cos I couldn’t stand any more lies… he said no… so I took him back. Boy was he ever the attentive and sweet boyfriend… things were nice until his friend HS called me again two weeks later.

HS: Overwhelmed, you’re a sweet girl, and even though AM is my close friend, I just have to tell you- AM is married; separated from his wife- but married.

WHAT!?!? I exploded… the lying bastard… I swear if he had been around me when I heard this, I would’ve hurt him so bad. The things I told him before I broke up with him that day I will not repeat on this blog. At 18, I’d dated a married man… my only consolation was that I’d never had sex with the bastard… but holy shit... I’d kissed his lying ass lips… motherfucker had left a really bad taste in my mouth.

At 19, I met DD at a mall. I was looking something fierce, and so was he. DD was Igbo, 26, tall and cute. We hit it off and dude was just nuts about me…apparently, he was amazed to meet a naija girl- classy, smart, focused, gorgeous, tall, nice and Igbo at that (lol.. his words not mine). Till this day, I’m not sure I know exactly what he did for a living… He said 'stocks' but he had a certain ‘419 bluetooth representative’ aura about him. He took me to some of the most posh restaurants I’ve ever been to… but seemed to lack some class - could’ve been his ‘Igbotic’ accent, American pro footballer physique (I prefer skinnier guys), or the fact that he consistently called me ‘bebe’- not babe or baby. Anyways, fast forward to a date of two later, homeboy tells me he wants to surprise me. As a girl, you expect some roses, perfume, or if he’s feeling particularly generous- some jewelry…. YEAH RIGHT. Mr. Sugar Lover DD pulled up in front of a MOTEL… yup, motel. Steam was coming out my ears; I was soo pissed. What sort of girl did he take me to be? Motel? Me… a classy, smart, focused, gorgeous, tall and nice Igbo girl? I didn’t bloody think so. It was soo ugly, tacky, dingy and cheap. Take me home I insisted. He called me later and apologized profusely about the motel thing cos he knew I wasn’t that sort of girl. Luckily for him, I’m all for giving people a second chance cos some folk just don’t know any better. Another thing that pissed me off about him was the fact that he felt the need to tell me that he’d had sex with his ex on their first date and then proceeded to date her for 5 years…. Like what the fuck does this have to do with the price of petroleum in my neighbourhood? Nothing? Exactly my point. Anyways, on our next date, we kissed for the first time. The plan was to go and have dinner, but guess where homeboy pulls up? IN FRONT OF THE SAME DAMN MOTEL!!! I made him drop me off somewhere and got another friend to come and drive me home. Suffice to say, I never picked up his calls after that, and have completely ignored him the few times I’ve seen him since. IDIOTIC NIGERIAN NIGGA LOOKING FOR CHEAP THRILLS… BARKING UP THE WRONG TREE NIGGA!!!


Fast Forward a few months later, still 19, I was single and ready to mingle. I met BB @ a club. 25, cute, Yoruba guy with a nice accent and personality. We talked for a few weeks before we eventually went on a dinner date… he was attentive, witty, smart, complimentary… maybe a little too complimentary… Nigga was waxing poetic- talking about I had cute fingernails; he loved my shoes, my lipgloss, my bracelets, my ‘blonde’ hair… that was a bit much. I mean I know I’m sexy, well put- together and all that, you just don’t have to compliment every single thing I’m wearing. But asides from that, the date was progressing very nicely… BB was a homebody and appreciated a sophisticated girl who knew her way around the best places in town (lol… not my fault, I’ve just been on tons of dates). He was already looking forward to a second date, which I was open to. At one point during the meal, I went to the washroom and came back to homeboy chatting Yoruba something furious on his cell phone. No Yoruba guy that I meet will ever know that I understand 70% of his language… call me sly, I just call it ‘having an advantage’. Anyways, he was telling his friend how I was so sexy, nice, interesting and how much fun we were having. However, his only problem was that I wasn’t open to the idea of coming home with him; I wasn’t putting out but he knew what to do on our next date… he would definitely hit it. WTF!?!?!? I guess my composure changed cos his next question was “Overwhelmed, you don’t understand Yoruba right?” I smiled “Of course not” HORNY, IDIOTIC FOOL. He was at ease again. Suffice to say it was the first and last date... Hit It KO… Arrange It NI

(LOL… Sorry people, I know the narrative is a bit long… but y’all asked for it… there’s only one part left)


TO BE CONTINUED

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Nigerian guys that I’ve dated or almost dated

I’m 20, in a good place in my life right now with a good guy… I’m obviously not looking to get married anytime soon, so I’m just enjoying my relationship and open to seeing where it goes. My boyfriend is not Igbo, Nigerian, or even African. Most Nigerian guys that try to talk to you and hear that you ‘have a man’, try to discredit your relationship for ‘obvious reasons’:

· He’s a foreigner
· He can’t take care of you
· He won’t understand you
· He’ll just use you and dump you for his kind eventually…
that sort of rubbish.

This implies that on the contrary, Nigerian guys commit to and marry every girl they date. Because I’ve heard this same yarn a lot recently, it sort of got me to thinking about naija guys that I’ve known, liked and/or dated, and how they’ve “understood and taken care of me”:

At 13, JC was my first boyfriend. The second cutest boy in my school really liked me. He held my hands and walked me home from school everyday, sang to me and wrote me poetry. He convinced me I didn’t need to wear the trendy ‘black lip-liner’, as it would mar my natural beauty. It was probably the purest relationship I ever had; maybe the only time I could honestly say the guy liked me more for my mind and personality than my booty and glorious boobs (lol… that’s probably cos they were just little knobs at the time). We dated for 10 months, saw each other in school everyday, but only kissed a few times. It ended just as sweetly as it’d begun, with a kiss…. and a farewell to Canada. This naija boy- naija girl relationship boded well for others to come.

OR SO I THOUGHT

At 16, I was in Canada, had adapted to the culture (meaning I’d grown to love poutines, ice cappuccinos and pizza, and could pull off a pretty good Canadian accent). Anyways, I went to a Nigerian party with my mom and saw all sorts- 419 ‘bluetooth’ representatives, Nigerian- Canadian girls feeling sexy in their leather jackets, a number of fat white girls looking for naija guys to brainwash them, and ‘the others’. I went to get a soda and the bartender started chatting me up... he seemed different. Long story short- I gave him my number. KK was 22, a male nurse, seemed nice, settled, but CALABAR!!! It was really hard to get past that the fact that he probably ate dog meat, but get over it, I did. We’d been dating for only 2 weeks when homeboy started pressing me to come to his house to meet his mother and sleep over!?!?!?!? WTF… 1 was 16… Needless to say, I broke up with him… 2 dinner dates and 2 weeks of dating…. as my uncle would say: “Good riddance to bad rubbish”.


A year later, at 17, I went to another Nigerian party with my mom and some family friends (lol... I know... me and the Nigerian parties… my mom dragged me… I swear). A male friend of my family friend liked me and wanted to talk to me outside… I looked at his face…. not interested… I refused. He came back inside and somehow interested me in conversation. He was 21, in college, very nice, funny, interesting … hmmm, I thought... maybe I should give him a chance; I gave him my number. I mean I ‘obviously’ had no intention of dating him… we’d just be friends… YEAH, RIGHT. We started talking and hit it off big time…we talked on the phone for hours each night for about two months… he asked me out and I said yeah… note, we still hadn’t been on a date yet. The next weekend, he decided he was gonna take me to see a movie. OH MY GOD, MC WAS FUGLY… WTF… I COULD NOT BE SEEN WITH HIM… HE WAS ALL CHEEKBONES…LOOKED LIKE A DAMN SKELETON. I cursed the dim lights of that naija party for obscuring ‘this’ from me. There was no way out of it…. he was already on my bloody doorstep… stepping towards me with arms wide open and his version of a smile… bout Hey Baby. I hated the way he looked, but I felt terrible that I felt that way, cos I could only imagine what that said about me. I understood that I needed to be attracted to someone to date them, but since I’d fallen for his personality, wouldn’t I be shallow if I just broke up with him because I liked his voice but not his face? He was still ‘nice, funny and interesting’, so we dated for maybe 3 months after this date; I probably only saw him 3 times in total. Oh, and he gave me a better reason to break up with him cos the black man was jealous (Where are you going? Who are you going with? You going to look for guys? If not, then why can’t I come with you? How many hours are you going to spend there? What are you going to wear there?... that sort of mess). I told him I knew he didn’t trust me and I couldn’t deal with that, but that I’d love to keep his friendship as it was so important to me (eye roll- yeah, whatever).

*Oh, did I mention that after all his pleading for us to be remain together, when he realized I wasn’t having it, he asked me to return to him the $150 jeans he bought me for my birthday (lol… I guess that could be because I broke up with him three days after my birthday).*

TO BE CONTINUED

Friday, September 15, 2006

Being 'FRIENDS' with the man of your dreams

A very “great” close friend of mine used to be in a “great” relationship with a “great” guy until about 3 weeks ago. He broke up with her because he thought their relationship and sex life was conflicting with his religion. He’d love to be with her but just didn’t trust himself to keep his hands off her whenever they were together. Oh and he also wanted them to remain friends because her friendship meant so much to him....

I think that’s an obvious load of crock, but yeah to cut a long story short- the whole thing got me to thinking… 8 months of the best relationship we’d seen in a while and it was over just like that….

Anyways to my story:

I got home from school yesterday, and I was not in a good mood and my boyfriend- genius that he is chose to call me then.

“How you doing babe?” He asks

“I’m hungry and sort of cranky cos I can’t find anything to eat or cook” I start complaining

“Oh… so what are you going to do about it then”

I went off…. “That has always been the biggest problem in this relationship- you never put in much input except when finding out what I’m gonna do about things… what about you… who’s the man in this relationship anyways… I hate the fact that you never understand emotional pain (yes, I actually used the word ‘emotional pain’)”

“Something tells me you had an amazing day”

“See that’s the problem… you never take me serious… you always think I’m joking around and I’m sick and tired of that”

“Baby, calm down, I can see you’re upset, but calm down, you’re sort of going off on me for no reason here”

I wasn’t coming back down to earth… I just kept rapping and he still wasn’t getting into it with me, so I just came out with it “Listen, do you wanna cool things off for now and just be friends?”

He laughed for a good five minutes… until he realized I wasn’t laughing.

He probed and probed… but all I’d give him was obvious bullshit- “I think you need to be with a different kind of girl because I think you don’t know how to feel my emotional pain… maybe we want different things out of this relationship and life in general”

“Babe, I’m really sorry to find out you feel this way cos up until a few moments ago I thought you were joking… I know you can be funny like that… everything is amazing between us- conversation, chemistry, and there’s been no hint of trouble so you kinda surprised me with the friend bit. But yeah, I’m guessing it’s your school stuff- you think being with me is taking away from that. I understand… cos I’ve always loved your intelligence and ambition and I’d never want to do anything to jeopardize your future… I mean I really wanna be with you and I care for you deeply, but I guess I’ll let you go and do you, and if you come back to me, then I guess it shows we were meant to be. But please really think about this, if there’s an option… I’d rather us… but if there’s a conflict… be about your school… that’s how much I respect and care about you.”

WTF… the same guy I wrote “I met a Boy” and “Butterfliesabout? I mean this whole lets be friends thing was just a gag… I’m nuts about this guy…

He didn’t even fight for me? That’s all he could come up with? Fuck those “I’ll let you fly away and if you come back to me then we were meant to be” lyrics… he’s obviously been listening to my Mariah Carey CD for too long. Seriously, whatever happened to “Baby, I won’t let you go… you just mean too much to me”

I was just sooo mad; I hung up the bloody phone.

I just had to call one of my best guy friends- the guy I’d probably marry if we’re both single at 35 (lol… yes I watched My Best Friends Wedding, and I do realize Cameron Diaz got the guy not Julia Robert)

So yeah, I called him and told him the whole story…. Can you believe this? He told me I was wrong…. He knows how good me and the boyfriend are together, so why am I trying to mess things up… I’m lucky I have a man who cares that much about me and worships me, so why tempt fate… blah blah blah... (in my head I’m going… holy smoke... I called you for us to insult the guy together sha… so which kind preaching be this one now?)

Anyways, I believe what I learnt from my friend is that “The people you care for have the most power to hurt you”

Damn… I’d hurt my boyfriend. In my quest to get this perfect response from him, I could just as easily loose one of the best things that’s happened to me in a while. I was sorry at this point, but of course I wasn’t going to call him.

Being the “great” guy that he is, he called this “great” girl back

“Baby, let’s start over. We’ve been at it for only four months, how about 4 or 44 more?”

I grin like Will Ferrell in “The Ballad of Ricky Bobby” when he realizes that his paralysis is all in his mind…. “Alright baby, I forgive you (lol… I know… typical female… we just have to be the forgivers)… you wanna come over tomorrow?”

He laughs “Oh wow, am I getting some”

In My Mind: {Imagine throwing THAT away… Friend my non- existent left nut}

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Torn

I believe we love truly, deeply only once in a lifetime. But I just wondered what it would be like to love two men differently at the same time:

I’m torn between a past I know and a future I don’t.

Torn between one who makes me smile and one who makes me laugh.

I’m torn between a man who wants me and one who needs me.

Torn between a memory and my reality.

I’m torn between one whose kisses make me feel safe and one whose kisses ignite my fires.

Torn between the one I love and the one I want to make love to.

I’m torn between the one I want to build my home with and the one who is my home.

Torn between the one whose touch warms me on a cold night and one whose touch sends tingles down my spine.

I’m torn between someone who sings me to sleep and one who keeps me up all night.

Torn between spring and summer, between a laugh and a giggle.

I’m torn because I’m stuck between your black eyes and his brown ones.

I’m torn because you’re my love, but he is my life.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Butterflies

After being high and low and everything inbetween
One day you finally figure it out
You realize now that they just don’t do it for you anymore
Those wild dances, the fox trots, the sparks that fizzle almost as soon as they’re lit
The noisy birdcalls don’t bring you out to play anymore
The speedy ride in lingerie at midnight thrills you no longer
You cannot delight in kisses that don’t leave you breathless
You realize that now
You need someone to slow dance with
Someone to hold you by the fireplace and tell you it’ll be alright
Some one who gives you butterflies

Someone who’s mere presence sends shivers down your spine
Whose eyes hold the key to your soul
Who makes you want to do things you’ve never done before
Someone who’s your fantasy, reality and everything inbetween
Someone who inspires you and is your light in a cold and distant world
Some one who gives you butterflies

You start to yearn for something that’s not so fleeting and instant
But rather, a flicker of something that shimmers and smolders till it bursts into flames of passion
Memories to last a lifetime and keep you warm on the coldest of nights
A hand to wipe away your tears and hold you in times of sorrow
Arms to cuddle but not smother you
Someone who gives you butterflies

Saturday, September 09, 2006

My Epiphany

It’s a party, Come on, do it- everybody does, it’s no harm
You’ll feel nice, you’ll feel good, happy, stress- free
It’ll be a bit strange the first time, but it gets better

The little voice in your head says:
No, don’t do it, it’s wrong, it’s dangerous
You’ll end up feeling resentful, strange
There shouldn’t even be a first time for you, don’t do it period!

All these messages resound in your head when you take that first drag of the joint
Cough! Cough!
It tastes and smells horrible, what a waste of time
On the other hand, why the hell not- you only live once

You smoke and you smoke and you smoke some more
Till you can’t hear the little voice in your head anymore
Your brain is silent, everything is calm
Hmmmm, this is actually nice, come to think of it
Ha ha ha, everything’s funny and cute

Then a couple minutes later, it stops being so funny, you think you went way past your limit with the smoking thing
You cry and you laugh and then you cry for laughing
You’re an animal in a cage that wants to be set loose
You fight these invisible chains, but they bind even harder
You can’t break free

You’re burning inside
It’s like God is trying to tell you something
That if you do this again, you’ll die or go to hell, whichever comes first
You’re at the lowest you’ve ever been in your life
It’s strange cos sometimes you have clarity
You realize you’re hallucinating but you cannot stop it

The room starts to spin, then you realize they’re coming after you,
Oh God, you have to run, run, run
It’s weird though cos you can only run in circles though they’re coming straight at you
This is just all too confusing
You realize you can’t outrun them so you have to think
But you need a clear brain so you request water
Water! Water!! You scream
Then you realize… water can’t quench this internal fire
So you request for prayers cos even through this mind- altered haze, you still remember you need spiritual clearance

It’s weird because there are periods inbetween when you have these terrible blackouts
Moments where you can’t remember what happened a little while ago
Those times scare you the most cos they just might represent the darkest part of yourself
You definitely do not want to confront those immediately
So you spin and you fall and you think and get up then fall again
Then you lie down to understand what you’ve been doing
You head and stomach protest
You’re stuck between a rock and very high place
You’re shrouded in darkness and desolation.

Then you have an epiphany
There’s a better plan for your life- you have to deviate from all these experiments or it might not be fulfilled or even if it does- you might be too high to notice.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Actively Seeking An Addiction

Not drugs, sex, money or love
I want to crave something
Need it so bad I wake up sweating
An addiction so powerful it crowds out everything else
An incredible high that protects me from the cold chill of my heart
A mind- numbing, memory killing, soul- sating addiction.