Yesterday, I cried...

The things I do are easily divided into two categories, those that I care about and those that...well...mean very little to me. For the things I care about, I ensure that I give my best...so you can tell I don't feel too strongly about blogging then, lol.

Well, yesterday, I tried to perform a task. I had spent so many man hours preparing for this task, yet as soon as I started that task, my confidence ran away and I stumbled and fumbled my way through.

Truth be told I probably didn't not do as badly as I felt at the end but then I didn't perform as I wanted to...

It started as tear stinging at the corners of my eyes and then I cried...burst forth liker a broken dam...cried till there were no more tears...

I wrote this in August of 08...I dont even remember what it was about. Oh well.

...and then went back to pick the pieces, my pieces...

Hope rising

Isn't it amazing how God provides a glimmer of light just when your day is blackest?

Isn't it amazing how when you go through periods of darkness and sink into the abyss of despair or even when you get despondent, God shows up and provides the tiniest sliver of light.

Isn't amazing when you have an experience in your storm and hope is suddenly rekindled? When a song rises from within and you know all will be well and indeed God holds your future.

Isn't amazing how when your dream is at death's door, ragged and carelessly mutilated by the storms of life, God shows up and provides your negatives with an exposure, a short flash of light and you know a beautiful picture you soon will see?

Isn't it amazing how out of the depths of sorrow, God can bring up a thin ray of hope from the innermost parts of your beings and thin though that ray may be, it strengthens and upholds you like a beam of metal?

Isn't it just amazing how in the face of adversity, when the painful pangs of pregnancy rage, a sense of hope that you will birth your dream in the fullness of time arises like a fountain, unquenchable, yearning just to be shared and to spare some of its goodness.

Isn't Hope just amazing? Moreso, Isn't God amazing?

10 things I'd like to do before I'm too old

I didn't steal this from anywhere. Yes, I'm a genius, I know. Right here goes:

1. Learn to ride a Horse...properly.

2. Bring up (not rear) a puppy from birth to death without killing or causing it untimely death. (I should say at this point that my mum will be kept very far from my puppy. Matter of fact my house will have automatic detectors at the gates which will detect my mum's presence and would blare out; Please mind the Dog!)

3. Get married. (I think, potentially this can be fun.)

4. Learn to play the Piano, Saxophone and Violin in the same year.

5. Take a gap year and go backpacking...maybe down under to begin with.

6. Attend an MBA class...just for the sake of it.

7. Sew a Nigerian outfit and show it to my tailor...ha! hopefully that'll deter her from giving me a £60 bill in future.

8. Not work for a year. No work, no business, no school, nothing. (Cher Seigneur, ce point est une plaisanterie- Dear Lord, this point is a joke!)

9. Speak French fluently, complete with accents and all. (None of that nonsense I got when I tried speaking to some shopkeepers in Paris and they stared at me like I was something out of star wars)

10. Be cool again!?!

11. Learn to ride a horse...properly.

Now behold the lamb.

My lovely people, just a quick one to post a ministration that has been blessing my heart for the past few days. My life over the last few months has been such a testimony, a story I need to share. A story I will share. God, He is so awesome. The most rewarding decision I ever, ever made was to follow Him. I've never ever been so satisfied, never wanted, never longed for anything, the way I long for Him now.

Will be back...

Why Me?

Why me?

Why do I embarass myself all the time?

Why were 4 black guys staring at me as I walked in a crowded shopping area (I'm allowed to have a bad hair day aren't I?)

Why did I feel so self conscious cos they were staring? (Thought I had grown past that...)

Why did I get so bothered as I walked past them?

Why did they continue to stare?

Then, why did my stupid pink heel get stuck in a hole on the pavement?

Why did the guys chorus Oh noooooo! when it got stuck? (Haaaa we re!)

Why did everyone around (minimum of 15) turn to stare at me because the we re guys had drawn attention to the event?

Why did I smile and say 'Be nice guys' (even more embarassing!)

Why was I red at this point?

Why did I try to force my heel out of the pavement, as onlookers watched me with pity?

Why did the stupid heel refuse to come out?

Why did I say 'No' when one of the guys asked if I needed help?

Why did he approach me anyway?

Why did the stupid heel decide to come out as he got close?

Why was I so embarassed?

Why me?

Time of the month? More like Time of the life!

My good friends, I’m not even going to bother apologising for being away because I am sure it’d just sound cheesy. Mattie told me my blog was boring the other day. I was horrified (rolls eyes, as if I didn’t know that already).

Anyway, I am sure, having read the title of this post, you’ll either assume I’m in pain or I am having so much fun. I’m afraid it’s none. I should be packing the fun in but my friends have decided to be unspontaneous, uninstinctive, unimpulsive damp rags requiring 5 weeks notice for every planned activity…but wait, that is not the topic for today.

It happened early on this week. I went to purchase (hmmmn…I like that word) a gift for our keyboardist. Let me explain, our keyboardist used to be a really nice guy. I liked him a lot because he was always there when I needed him. You know, he was one of those guys that the English describe as a ‘really nice bloke’ and all that. He was always easy to work with, helpful, friendly and most importantly he was always compliant. If we had to have singing practice and notice was short, I could always get him to make time for us, somehow, and me being the Major General that I am, I maximised his availability. But in typical fashion, all good things come to an end and alas! he’s not so nice anymore… at least not to me. Why, you ask? Wait for it… Apparently, he has accused me of being one of those people who only call when they need something… (But, that is soooo not me, or is it? Am I really like that?) It’s so bad now, this brother has not picked up any of my calls for the last 2 weeks. It’s really upsetting…

Back to the story, so I went to purchase a gift for him and his wife (you thought he was single, didn’t you). She had a baby some three weeks ago so I thought we (singing group) would get him a gift. So come Monday, I carried myself to some baby shop; I think it was puny people or was baby gurgles, something like that sha… Ehen, pumpkin patch! That’s it. I got to the shop at about mid afternoon and began perusing, and as I did that, I started getting this very warm fuzzy feeling from my leg upwards. It seemed to exacerbate when I went close to the cute white baby grows (I think that’s what they are called) and the tiny winy baby socks…oh my goodness, those tiny socks brought me close to tears (altogether now, awwwwwww). There were all sorts, little tiny pink dresses, cute white dungarees with teddy bears all over them, baby blue sleep suits, pink baby playsuits, I felt like buying up the entire contents of the shop.

After about 15mins of perusing and the warm feeling persisting, I strolled out of the shop for some fresh air, I mean, something must have been wrong, right? Why was I feeling all emotional and gooey all of a sudden? Perhaps the store was low on oxygen. I was back in, in less than a minute and I looked some more, caressing the woolly bibs and hats. I picked many items, couldn’t make my mind up and so swapped them for other items, and then I would dropped those, caress some more even softer baby stuff and start the process all over. At one point, a white fluffy baby shirt fell. I sucked my breath and recoiled in horror and then I rescued it, brushing off all the germs with as much energy as I could muster ( I mean, you wouldn’t want that on a baby now, would you?). So after what felt like 15mins but was really 45min in Pumpkin patch, I made my way, with two baby outfits held gingerly, to the cashier. There were 2 cashiers and they were staring at me very oddly. I still can’t figure out why? Needless to say, I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about babies and then, as if things weren’t bad enough, an old colleague came in with her cute 3 month old. The little one was so cute with large gray eyes and the friendliest smile ever. I think she liked me cos she kept on playing clapping games (oh, you wouldn't understand) and the fuzzy feeling, which was dying down albeit very slowly, returned and stayed put. It’s been a week and I am still thinking of babies.

My dilemma now is, I have to give the ‘gifts’ to the Keyboardist tomorrow and I don’t want to. I want to be the one dressing a baby up and wiping its dribbles with soft white bibs. I want to rub some baby oil into its hair and then, put on a sun hat, I want to dress him up in the navy green dungarees, with him smelling all fresh. I want to coo and coo and coo while he giggles and gurgles contently…

Now my question is, what is wrong with me? I have never quite felt like this before. Do you recognise these symptoms and if you do can you prescribe a cure for this ailment, Please hit me up at corallo@hotmail.com

Many thanks,

Desola

'Deschikky'


All we are sayiiiiiiiiiiiin, Desola Come back!

I THINK I LOVE HIM

I THINK I LOVE HIM YALL...

MY MIND, MY HEART, THEY OVERFLOW WITH THOUGHTS OF US.

I WANT TO SEARCH HIM, AND KNOW HIM, YES, WARTS AND ALL

THE ALLURE, THE POWER, DAMN, IT MAKES ME CURIOUS.

Unfinished Business

Jeez, it feels like I haven't been in here forever. To fill you in, I have not been able to blog for several reasons, not least because my life seems to have been doing what it does best i.e. hurtling along at a rather alarming rate whilst I ever so diligently try to figure out what it is I am meant to be achieving. No seriously, I am sombrely thinking of giving up on all my plans for world domination. Ehen, I am not Cleopatra the second as my Dad would have me believe. I am not...or am I? I think I might just go get married, have my 2.5 or is it .4 kids and spend the rest of my life feeding them mashed potatoes, chicken pieces and gravy.

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Lest I forget, I think I was meant to complete my post on Mr see-ho-haru- the strange one. The thing is after the initial meeting, which in itself was bad enough, everything else that transpired was a bit of an... what's the word I'm looking for?... an... an anti-climax. Mattie was right (she knows me too well), I did invite him to church. Desola was wrong, I didn't invite him in for tea or biscuits. He would have had to work far harder than he did to get some refreshments...besides I don't give shi shi up easily...not even my Tesco value malted biscuits (Yes o!). He also turned out to be one those 'It-doesn't matter-if-you-have-a man,-as-long-as-you-are-not-married-anything-can-happen. So-can-I-drop-by-at-10pm-kind-of-boy'. As Vivica Fox notoriously said in 'Two can play that game', I hadst to 'check him'. His name and # are now consigned to the 'don't pick list' for ever and ever. Next!

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Desola tagged me, wicked girl that she is. Does she not know that tags are for the cool kids that actually have interesting things to say? I mean I looked at one of the questions, I think it went something like 'what kind of underwear are you wearing?' and thought 'Hmmn, my fellow bloggers would really want to hear about my green flowery Granny knickers (think Bridget Jones) and cream cotton slings... err... sorry bra. Erm I think not. So in that spirit I refuse to do the tag. Let me see what she is going to do to me.

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I thought I wouldn't post until Lent was over, just so I could give myself some time to catch up with me. Being the chieftess of boredom staff, blogging was fast becoming something I placed on the 'to do' list (I know I din't post that much in the first place, who asked you?) so I thought to take a break. As if to enforce that, a certain superman in my house decided that he knew better than all anti-virus software developers and proponents and so he somehow managed to disable my anti-virus. Of course my computer (whom I suspect had been looking for a reason to give up its ghost) promptly welcomed the virus and died on me. 3 powerful antiviruses later, the thing is still yet to come back to life. Wharralife?

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I will be back. Thanks to all who asked after me and thanks to those I was meant to go running with. My excuse is that I had a persistent cough. Aeh-hum! Aeh-hum!! see..

All need not apply/Who says Chivalry is dead?

I had a feel good moment in the weekend gone by. It started out as a dare-devil moment when one of the nuts in my head went loose and I decided to hand wash my car in the freezing cold. Don't ask why, even I have no answer to that.

Anyway, having taken my rather foolish decision, I set to work complete with bucket, cloth, rag, slippers et al. To keep myself amused, I turned on (and up) my car's mp3 player and blasted out some christian tunes and proceeded to work. As I washed, I noticed there was a car parked a little distance from me. The driver whom I couldn't see very well was talking to some guy who was standing on the pavement. They spoke for quite a while and then the car drove off, away from me and up to the street entrance. The guy who had been speaking to the driver also continued on his (merry?) way.

Not quite 5 mins later, I saw the car come back into my street and then into my yard. I pretended not to notice him, and his friend whom I thought had walked far off, re-appeared. He resumed his conversation with the driver. Nothing to do with me I guess, so I continued. It wasn't long before the driver came out of the car. He approached me hesitantly. I glanced at him (read I gave him a swift but thorough once-over) and quickly realised he was Nigerian. Don't ask what a Nigerian looks like, it's just a culmination of the approach, the dressing and the smirk. Come on now, you know there are Nigerians that you see and you just know they are Nigerian lol. Well, he was one of those. I cursed my forehead under my breath (Sometimes, I swear there is a sign on my forehead that says 'All need apply').

He came up to me. I sighed. He proceeded with the usual naija way of chirpsing. I sighed some more. He said a pretty woman like me ought not to be washing my car. I cringed. He asked for my name. I responded. He tried to confirm the spelling of my name. He said "Coral, as in See, ho, haru, hay, hel (C-O-R-A-L). I almost cried. He then insisted on helping me wash the car. Being all independent all all that I am. I refused. He tarried, he pleaded. I stared.

Eventually I relented. I have to say he did a good job. He washed the car real good. Then he washed the cloth. He wiped the car down. Then he washed the cloth again. He wiped the interiors down and washed the cloth, again. Then he got some tyre spray from his car, and got my tyres all sprayed up and shiny. All he wanted at the end was my number...

I will fly...

Set stage: Coral's ample behind is pointed directly at you whilst she brushes the cobwebs of her blog and wipes down the dust. Her eyes catch your pretty outfit as she reaches for the furniture spray...

Oh Hello...

My people...how's yous? (Bright, coy smile...)

Sorry, I have been AWOL. I don't even know where to start? Erm...the speech...yes the speech. (I know I didn't win any of the future or blogger awards but I still have a speesh, thank you). Let me start by giving special shout out to 'the finest thing in the city a.k.a 'Deschikky' for her kind birthday wishes. Dess, that was so nice of you...and to Daddy's girl (I think you are my lost twin), Temmytayo, Calabar girl (abeg, e get message wey I wan send you to Donald Duke o! It's a song so I hope you can sing ehn? Ehen, its Lauryn Hill's Tell him O.k? Abeg, don't do it when his wife is there o!), TLOASCM and Queenb, thanks for the birthday wishes.

I haven't posted in a while because life got real busy (You know-ha-it-tis). From the X-mas celebrations, to assignments, to work, to birthdays...its was all too much. Work in particularly was 'bizzy' as well as challenging. I dont know if I mentioned this before but I have a love-hate relationship with a certain Miss Havisham (in place where I get my daily bread) and let's just say I haven't been experiencing the love side of it since 2007 began, it's not right but it's okay. Lets move on to more interesting things...

So my birthday...I became twenty...twenty erm...twenty-'something' on the 11th. Wow! I can't actually write the words. It's not like I'm ashamed of my age or anything but...I just can't believe I'm that age. Speaking of it or writing it down jolts my mind in a way I can't quite explain and I think I am going through some kind of internal crisis. Can I be honest with you fellow bloggers? Yes? Well, I was soooooooo depressed in the days preceding the 11th. Ah mean, it seemed like just a minute ago I was throwing wild(-ish) parties for my 19th and 21st, and now I 'm twenty-'something'...Where the heck did time go? What did I do with my life? I'm not married yet! No kids! What have I achieved (well...'part from the gorgeous handbag I got me for christmas)?

See, I always thought that at twenty-'something', I would be cruising my own (read fully paid for) con'verb with my 80k a year job, sipping cocktails with the girls on Friday evenings somewhere in the city and telling them about my wedding plans and how well my businesses are going. Needless to say it has not quite panned out that way although I believe I am well on my way there(...well, there's power in positive thinking and all, right?).

Anyway on the eve of my birthday, I was re-evaluating my life, as you do and trying to fight the blue funk and before I knew it the clock struck 12. I have to admit my first thought was 'Aye mi' (my life! for non- indigenes). Then the dreaded calls began: 'Happy Birthday (HB) Coral, how does it feel to be twenty-something?' 'HB Coral, You are old o!','H.B Coral, ah you should be getting married this year', 'H.B, Coral, How old are you now?....Really! Damn, You are grown sha!' The callers were ruthless...ahn ahn and my eyes were very red after the calls.

How did I celebrate? Well...that was another wahala. I mean how do you celebrate being Twenty-something other than have a party. However, I didn't want one because I couldn't be bothered firstly. Secondly, there was just no way I could throw a party that'll could have measured up to my 19th or 21st. So, I decided to go for a drink instead...you know, get plastered, drown my sorrows and all...okay it wasn't that bad...

So it was off to F&B's for some very frothy Banana Mocha cocktails - at least that way I would be fulfilling a very minuscule part of my fantasy i.e. cocktails on a Friday evening. Besides, seeing that I had been teetotal for the last seven years or so, I thought in the spirit of twenty-something I would have a proper drink. Needless to say, half a glass later, I was verrrrrrry chatty...a bit too chatty so I kinda gave up. That notwithstanding I had a good time at the bar, some 20 or so friends and aquaintances turned up and made my evening. I also tried to match-make some of the girls but they didn't play. I think some of them might have been fixated on the fact that they too were already 20 'something' and if not, then they would be in the coming months.

After the drinks we went to see 'The pursuit of Happyness' starring Will smith and his son Jaden. The movie was really nice and Jaden's soooooo cute and smart. (He reminded me why I was and still am resolved to snag an intelligent and well rounded guy. That way, my son has a head start and a good chance of being smart, I think). What else can I say? Lovely lovely movie and it did put things in perspective for me. It also was a tear-jerker (well, it was either that or the drink hehehe) but in the spirit of twenty something I didn't cry...I couldn't anyway as one of my male companions kept on going: 'Babes, you alright?'. (Arrrggggghhhhhhh! sharrap already! all I wanted to do was cry in peace!!!).

After the movie, some of the girls came round mine and the pary began... It was just like the ol' UniX days. Sniff...sniff

Come Saturday morning, we (some 7 of us) went off for skiing lessons. That was REALLY cool. T2 was in her element and the instructor quickly established that 'T2 was the one to watch out for'. Haha. The instructor wouldn't let us (the girls) ski from the top of the slope but the boys were allowed. Not fair!

I never would have thought so but skiing is hard work. For the next 3 days, it felt like my muscles atrophied.

Of course I now see myself heading for a ski resort in the French Alps somewhere on hols. Yep, a resort complete with a 'chalet' and a 'fixer' (you do know what a fixer is right?) to pander to my every need. Forget sun-seeker holidays...that was sooooo last year.

Just in case you're wondering how I chose skiing lessons. Twas simple really, I just chose an activity that was guaranteed to piss 'the girls off'. One that would challenge their comfort. Last year it was horse-riding and many of them protested vehemently with 2 outrightly refusing to participate. This year I had considered a hot air balloon trip round London but it was a bit too cold. Then there was the option of an Helicopter ride and I would have loved to see their faces as the chopper took off but I wasn't going to pay 60 odd pounds and not have the priviledge of flying the damn thing...err..no...plus it won't have fitted all of the girls. So skiing it was and a good choice it was I must say. Daunting, but fun.

After skiing, some more of the girls came to mine and the celebrations continued. At the end of it all, I was hungover from the two-day celebration marathon but at least I felt better about my new age. Matter of fact, I must admit I am already looking forward to my next birthday. Yep! I know what I want already. Flying lessons... (all 'potentials' please take note). I WILL have fun. I WILL enjoy my life (regardless of status, achievements or age). Yes! Majaiye o ri mi. I will grow old gracefully. I'll fly and that should piss the girls off...

N.B Special shout out to I.D. - The Bible says there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother and you are fast becoming that friend. Thanks for being there.

Disclaimer: This post has been written mainly in jest and I am truly grateful to God for an additional year. He has blessed me in many ways and it would be rude not to acknowledge that. I believe in His word which stipulates that there is a season for everything. I am content with where He has placed me and looking forward to where He is taking me.