Tag Archive | adulthood

“Are You Adding Weight?”

The photo with the green dress was the one He questions. and this super blurry one is of me before exercise this morning.

The photo with the green dress was the one He questioned. And this super blurry one is of me before exercise this morning.

Gentlemen and Ladies, Girls and Boys,

So, let us get this straight. There is a strong contender for the title of The Nigerian Husband, as a matter of fact, this contender has been around long before the Nigerian Husband made his first appearance on this blog…hahaha.

However, just like the Nigerian Husband is always busy preparing for the big family we are going to have, the contender as well, is always busy and hardly reads this blog, hence, I can put him on full blast here.

This morning, after the contender saw a photo I took over the weekend, this blunt son of a baptist didn’t think of anything flattering to say… What he said troubleshot me out of  my bed, straight into my work out clothes and set me running like a mad woman on the track.
“Are you adding weight?”

This one and only contender happens to be a contender for many reasons, one being his brutal honesty and inability to pretend or sugar coat things.

I made it to the track, ran a few 800-metre laps before joining the guys having aerobics.

It was tough, but I wasn’t about to back out. I had to/have to prove this contender that that weight will go away in no time.
I almost gave up twice during the parallel planks. What kept me going? I kept chanting “for the Nigerian Husband, for the Nigerian Husband.”

By the way, his question only pushed me because I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately and have had plans to exercising rigorously again. I’m not exercising so he stays or hang around longer. I’m exercising so I hang around longer and have a better life with him & the people I cherish the most.

The work out this morning was for the only contender for the title of The Nigerian Husband. Who and for what did you dedicate your exercise today to?

Have a great Tuesday folks, don’t forget live, love, laugh, fart, be silly, life is incredibly too short- Oshe! (Just because he says it a lot)Image

Advertisements

Meet Abayomi

Meet Abayomi

Folks,

For the next five days, I’m going to be sharing my cubicle with Abayomi aka Abby.

This smart, fun loving, outgoing and intelligent 15 year-old is interning with The BVI Beacon Newspaper this week. I have the privilege of being- for lack of a better word- her supervisor.

This simply means for the next week, I have to be a responsible adult. Like, I have to show up to the office on time, not spend so much time browsing through the internet, be a model employee, not bully Ken- my colleague and basically appear busy all the time.

All that boring grown up actions aside, Abby gets to go to assignments with me and the other reporters. For example, in a few hours, she’ll shadow me at an interview and she’ll get to take the photo and video of the interview. I’m pretty excited about it.

You know what’s fun?
I was in Abby’s shoes years ago. I went to the same high school she’s currently enrolled in. (Cedar International School.)

In 11th grade, I interned with a newspaper called The Virgin Islands Standpoint. That publication is now out of business.
In 12th grade, I interned with guess who???? That’s right! I interned with The BVI Beacon Newspaper.
I did an okay job, in my very modest opinion… but If you ask my supervisor then, I think he’ll tell you I did an amazing job. (I mean, how do you explain the fact that I’ve been with the company for years since then… Okay… Vanity kills!)

I digress.

Abby enjoys photography and hopes to one day become a wild life photographer. She’s got some really cool photos. ( Something I don’t think my 15 year-old self would measure up to).

I was out sick for the later part of last week, but I got a memo at home, informing me of my duties and new cubicle mate.

I sort of forgot about her until I walked into the office and found her seated, being briefed by the editor.
Needless, to say, she’s somewhat settled down and I think, getting a sense of what it takes to be as journalist.

I really do hope that at the end of the week, Abby would have had a fun time learning about the things we do and how a newspaper operates.

Folks, I have to go. Having Abby here means I can’t be wasting time. I have to be an example!

🙂

Live, love, laugh, fart, be silly; life is too short.
Vou

I’m A Queen.

Dear Nigerian Husband,

I’ve noticed that in a few of my posts to you, I’ve spoken too much of what you expect of me and have almost neglected some things I’ll expect from you.

I am a queen, and I’ll expect you to treat me for what I am.
Wait, don’t jump off your throne in disgust over my inflated ego, let me explain.

I’ve heard a few of your mates complain about women not knowing what they want. (I won’t be mad if you think like them) In fact, you guys may be right to some extent. I don’t always know what I want, but I have a pretty good idea of what I do not want. I don’t want you to be clueless!

You, my Nigerian Husband are/will be my king and l can tell you this much, you will be treated like the royalty you are.

From the moment we met/ From the moment you meet me, I’ve always expected/ I will always expect you to pamper me. Oh, I don’t mean treat me like a baby, call me every hour of the day. I don’t mean send me flowers every week, I don’t mean shower me with gifts.

I’m a queen already/will be a queen already by that time, so I can afford those things right?

Treat me like a queen, send me little, short notes every morning, reply my text messages within 10 minutes after you receive them. You’re allowed to respond later if you’re in an important meeting or activity that will raise enough money to take care of the big family we are going to have.

Treat me like a queen, spend some time with me listening to poems, John Legend, and reading a good book.  I love anything that has to do with arts and music. I promise, you’ll get almost anything within my power once you understand and appreciate the arts with me.

My Dear Nigerian Husband, treat me like a queen, take an hour each week to help with my natural hair. It doesn’t have to be fancy. We can sit on the porch while you unravel my twists or even massage my scalp with coconut oil.

I am a queen, I like to workout, come running with me once or twice a week. As you can see in the photo, I have a pouch I need to get rid of. I am a queen, come exercise with me.

I am a queen! I like handwritten letters… Send me a letter in the mail box every now and again! (not the mail box on the internet. I mean, the one the mail man checks every morning)

Treat me like a queen, send me a note every night before you go to bed. Treat me like a queen, be the first to read any posts published on this blog. Treat me like a queen, be the reason I retire completely from writing horrible, bitter-woman poems… Be the reason I become a sappy romance poet.

I am my father’s princess (ha, my dad doesn’t believe in that kind of nonsense….lol) I am/ will be your queen, be on the good side of my father. Go have a random conversation with him about all the topics he’s got an interest in. I am important to my family and they are important to me. Treat me like a queen, get to know them.

Treat me like a queen, join me in my random photography adventures. Treat me like a queen, lets spend a quiet afternoon listening to TED Talks on photography, poetry and the topics that highlight the importance of being unique and being a good human being.

Treat me like a queen, let’s go to church together, lets exchange devotional each morning and feel free to send me random Bible passage throughout the day.

These are just a few of the things I require of you my Dear Nigerian Husband. I’ll need you to use your discretion in finding out the rest.

I am a queen. (Goodness, what the heck was this post about again? This has got to be one of the cheesiest posts IImage

‘ve ever had. )

 

Smile, live, laugh, love, fart, be silly: life is too short 🙂

Vou