Ngozi's Blog

Hello people… how are you all doing?

Nothing new or unusual with me, except I started a new diet on Tuesday 😀

The plan is to stop eating like a horse and not exceed 1000 to 1,200 calories a day. So far, it has been going well… the third day is usually the hardest for me and I’m past that. So, apart from short episodes of hunger-induced lightheadedness, I’m doing good.

This is not my first diet and, knowing me, it probably won’t be my last. I’m doing it because I’ve gone back to wearing over-sized clothes to cover up all my jiggly bits. I don’t go anywhere besides work and I haven’t gone swimming in a long time because I don’t want anyone mistaking my stomach for a floater… Sometimes, I feel hopeless and end up eating even more to make myself feel better. This might be drastic, it might be a temporary fix, but it’s a start abi?

Abi?

:'(

Also, I’ve been keeping to myself a lot lately. Recently, two of my friends told me that I complain too much, about every-damned-thing. They don’t know each other from Adam so I know it wasn’t a conspiracy against me. I told a third friend what they said and she didn’t have much to contribute… in essence I complained to her that my friends complained that I complain too much.

She didn’t defend me… There was no, “How can they utter such travesty?!” or “What nonsense! You don’t complain… you just voice your displeasure in a whiny voice.”

It served as yet another reality check for me. I thought about asking more people but then I figured that three people (or two and a half, since she didn’t actually say anything) is more than enough. You guys might not feel their pains because by the time you read my shit, it’s been “cute-irized” and made into a nice blog post. These poor niggaz gotta listen to me whine and bitch about everything all the time in real time. They also listen to the stuff I can’t tell you guys. So I’m trying to stop complaining so much to them and to everyone else in general. I honestly don’t even know how to go about it…

It’s funny cos now, when we talk, and they ask “How are you?” I say, “Fine”. After that it’s just static… or awkward silence.

“So… how is work?”

“Work is ok…” and then, just so that it’s not too weird, “Same old, same old.”

“Are you sure? How about your evil boss from hell?”

“She’s cool.”

“And that guy in your office… is he still asking questions about your sexual orientation?”

“Lol… nope.”

“How’s your generator? Still giving problems?”

“Gen is good now… so how are you?”

Followed by static… some more static… and then we start talking about something else and eventually they end the call with an “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Lol… yeah, I’m good.”

And that’s how it’s been… I have to carefully think about my answers. The good thing is, I have made up my mind to channel all that extra non-complaining time and energy to other useful things. I would like to register for art classes and I would also like to take my writing more seriously. I know it sounds a little over-ambitious right now, but it’s what I’m thinking in my head. So far, I’ve spent a disturbing amount of this non-complaining time faffing around on the internet. And you know the saying about idle hands and the devil’s workshop.

Besides, with everything going on right now, I would sound silly complaining about anything… I mean, it could be worse right? I could be in Sambisa holding up a sign in Arabic, the only plus being that I would be the first person in my village and hometown to feature on CNN… even though it would be for all the wrong reasons.

I wanted to put up a post about the Chibok girls but my words don’t ever come out right. Everything I’ve written is all sorts of political incorrectness… the kinds of things that would make people question my education and exposure. So me and my ignorance will sit this one out. One thing I know we all agree on is that the girls are returned safely… and soon right?

Tomorrow, I wanna go shopping for my art supplies. I’m excited about that, but I have no idea where to get stuff from. I don’t want to end up lost in Lagos Island, cursing out all those irritating Igbo migrants from Aba while they try and convince me to go to their “shayd” where I can buy “ortentic jims” (authentic jeans).

*sigh*

You guys should have a great weekend!

Hi people!

I’m sorry I’ve been away for a while… things have been kinda tough for me lately (money wise) :'( You will not believe that I’ve had days where I wake up and I’m really not sure where the next meal is coming from. Somehow though, I always get by thanks to family and friends…

I don’t mean to sound like one of those testifiers in my church but the truth is, God has kept me 😀

I’m in this mess because last month, I bought something that I’m still paying for. I realize now that I planned poorly cos I’ve been soaking garri since then. On special days like Easter Sunday and Good Friday, I spice things up with some milk and sugar, but either way, it’s been steady soaks for me…  :'(

That’s not what we’re talking about today though. On Friday, I got a call from a friend/acquaintance of mine who saw my picture somewhere. She called and said, “You never told me you were a fashion model!” I knew exactly what she was talking about. I didn’t deny it or argue with her.

I decided it would be fun to gist you guys about it today. I also don’t want you to see the pictures and start thinking that I lead a double life.

Don’t worry, it’s not nudes… and it’s not a sex tape. I’m saving my sex tape for the day me and my father have an argument and he says, “You have shamed me! You cannot possibly cause me more shame than this!”

I will then proceed to “accidentally” leak the sex tape on purpose…

Anyway, I never told you guys that I’m a erm… *clears throat* a ‘Plus Size model’… ( ._.)

Basically, what it means is, sometimes I dress up in nice clothes and take nice pictures and maybe even do runways… the best part is, I do all this and still get to eat like a pregnant hog 😀

I started a few months after I first moved to Lagos. I was still living like a tourist then; taking cabs any and everywhere, eating out in restaurants, keeping up with all the latest movie releases… I was balling. I wasn’t rich, but I was hopeful. I mean, I was in Lagos… the land of opportunities! Surely, it was only a matter of time before one music exec would over-hear me singing in a Sweet Sensation or KFC toilet and offer me a multi-million Naira record deal… then I would be singing duets with Lagbaja and dancing Skelewu with Davido. By now, I would’ve been in Dubai, at my “close friend’s” wedding.

Sadly, the only thing I got from Sweet Sensation toilet was a sore throat from singing so loud, a UTI and no record deal… :'(

It did me like the prodigal son’s savings account when my money started running low. So I began my search for a regular job. It was during one of my online searches that I saw a call for auditions for plus size models. A new fashion house was launching a clothing line that catered to fat curvy  bigger-than-average women.

I auditioned on the first day, with more than a hundred other girls. After that, it was a looooong two weeks. Most of the time, it felt like we were on a reality show; we auditioned, then half the girls got cut, then we auditioned again, and other girls got cut. We had rehearsals, fittings and more rehearsals. Our coach was a drill sergeant-slash-former runway model who made us walk a runway in heels till we bled. I used to have nightmares about high heels and runways… Every day was like a new audition to keep your spot in  the finals. In the end, we were down to just twelve models.

It was taxing, but I had so much fun… the dramatic make-up, the hair, being dressed up by two/three people at the same time, the mad rush. We (the models) got gifts and the extra cash did not hurt at all.

So, a few weeks ago, when I got a call to model clothes for an up-and-coming fashion house, I agreed. Initially, I was fronting like I would be too busy for a photo-shoot, but then I looked at my empty bowl (with soaked garri remnants), I thought of my account balance and I accepted the offer.

Long story short, we did the shoot (me and some other intimidating skinny hot babes) and voila! See some of the pictures below… :'(

I have a couple more pictures on the website and I’m even on the logo (yay me)!! You can visit the website here: www.kayjay.com.ng

There’s another website that has some more pictures, but I don’t like those ones. And I pray that no one ever finds those pictures or else they might use them to blackmail me…

Have a great week people!

ps- This is free advertising o! I need to talk to the owner about this…

Good morning people!

I didn’t get much sleep last night so I’m crankier than usual today. Plus the MD of my company sent for me… says he wants to see me. I hear I’m in big trouble, so I’m at head office this morning. I’ll gist you guys about that later. It should make a nice blog post…

Meanwhile, the power situation at home is getting worse by the day. So, last night, while the heat kept me up I was thinking of what it would be like to write a letter to NEPA. If I could write to them, it would go something like this…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Dear NEPA,

I am writing to tell you that I am tired. Yes, I know I have several other issues… my job sucks, I’m always broke and I’m the president of SAN (Singles Association of Nigeria), Warri chapter. All of that is enough to make anyone tired. But you guys… you guys frustrate the hell out of me.

You see, there are two main reasons I dream of running away from this country; the first one is that I owe a lot of people money. And the second reason, which is the main reason, is you. Yes NEPA, YOU!

I dream of running away to places like Togo and Ghana… even Central African Republic… just any place where half of their annual budget is not channeled towards candle making and torch importation. Any place where there’s light!

You have no idea the shame you’ve caused me. On my street, I am now the neighbor of the infamous “I better pass my neighbor” generator. Yes, my neighbors better pass me because I don’t have light, I don’t have fuel and even if I did, my gen is giving problems from over use. I switched it on the other day and after a few minutes, it started coughing up blood and eventually packed up.

NEPA I am tired… :'(

Now I stay in the office till late and while my boss thinks I’m a hardworking over-achiever who is striving to move his company forward, what I’m really doing is charging my phone and my laptop.

I honestly don’t know anyone who works in NEPA. If I did, I would’ve asked two very important questions about the national power grid;

1. As a NEPA worker, how do you sleep at night with a clear conscience?
2. How do you get 10, 11 or sometimes even 12 able bodied NEPA workers to fit into one NEPA truck?… with a ladder sef.

And in case you think I’m just blabbing, I’ll have you know I pay my bills… I’ve never connected anything illegally without settling some of your people. The only time I defaulted, I made sure I paid the Reconnection-after-disconnection-even-though-they-saw-the-photocopy-of-the-bill-on-my-gate fee. I have been a relatively good electrical citizen… so don’t I deserve electricity?

It’s been two days now and the closest thing to electricity I’ve seen is the sparks that were flying out of my mum’s head when I told her that I wanted to audition for Big Brother Umuahia. The only reason I haven’t started a riot is that one good thing has come out of all this.

That’s right, there’s a silver lining… Because of you NEPA, I have re-dedicated my life to Christ. I used to doubt that Jesus loves me. So many things were going wrong and I thought he had abandoned me. But then, it dawned on me that it is only God’s love and protection that has brought me this far…

Do you realize how many times I’ve eaten soup/stew that was looking and smelling suspicious? Even when I’m warming the soup/stew, I know deep down that it is not bubbling like that because it is happy. There is no such thing as happy egusi soup… if YOU were in a fridge that wasn’t cooling consistently, wouldn’t you bubble too??

But God kept me through it all.

I’m not even going to talk about the times I had to make up in the dark. Maybe you should try drawing your eyebrows when it’s dark… see if you won’t come out looking permanently surprised. All my colleagues think I’m Benin because of these eyebrows.

NEPA… why?

I’m not demanding again… as a realistic citizen of this country, I know I have no right to demand for electricity. I am now begging. I know you can do it. Surprise me with light when I get home NEPA… search deep within the cables of your soul and find it within your heart to give me light.

Thank you.

Yours Sincerely,

 Charging my torch at work…

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Happy New Month people! 😉

Good morning people… 🙁

It’s bright and early Monday morning and I’m already having one of those days. I got beaten by rain and ended up getting to work more than one hour late… I switched on my system and emails started dropping like dead flies.

Now I have a ton of work that needs to be done and I don’t even know where to begin. So I’ve done what I sometimes do when I’m overwhelmed… I’ve shoved everything under my desk to be dealt with later. Maybe by the time I’m done writing this post, I’ll be fine. Or at least ok enough to face these emails.

I wanted to tell you guys about something I did recently. I should have given you the gist earlier but based on the reactions of two of my guy friends, I decided against it because I felt you might judge me. But then, a funny thing happened in the office so I figured that I might as well tell you.

Ok, so erm… early this month I erm… I paid for Pole Dancing classes.

*awkward silence*

(._. )  (._.)  ( ._.)

Yes, I said Pole Dancing.

I didn’t tell anyone at first… I went for my first class two weeks ago and I had a FAN.TASTIC time! My dance instructor is a girl named Tara who doesn’t have any bones and can do amazing things on a pole. Maybe because I joke about dancing on poles a lot, or maybe my great-great-grandmother got on a slave ship to the US and she became a world famous pole dancer and I inherited her genes… whatever the case, it didn’t take me long to get the hang of a lot of the moves. Tara said I’m a natural 😀 (and I don’t care if you think she was paid to say that).

So far, I’ve learnt two routines which is cool when we’re dancing as a group, but she usually encourages us to freestyle when we’re dancing solo…

Only thing I really had trouble with was lifting cos I have zero upper body strength… she has to tie wraps of suya at the top of my pole and that is how I am able to lift myself up high enough to grab the suya and then slide down again… 😀

I’m kidding… I don’t have to slide down after getting the suya. I just hang up there and eat it ( ._.)

Anyway, I got back home with a few bruised ribs and at least one missing tooth but brethren, I cannot describe how good I felt. I was so happy I had to share it and that was when I told two of my guy friends. They were equally shocked but both wanted to know; “Of all the new and exciting things I could try out, why pole dancing?”

Truth is, I do not know… I thought it would be fun and that’s exactly what it turned out to be. We dance to incredibly loud music- mostly a lotta Beyonce and some old school R n’ B… Usher, Genuwine-  and there’s a plenty booty-snapping, ass popping and hair flipping involved. I’ve gone for three more classes since then and if I could afford it, I would go for more. I’m aiming for once or twice a week…

Have no fear people. If I’m gonna resign and become a stripper, you guys will be the first to hear of it.

Now let me tell you the thing that happened in the office…

Before I went to my first class, I had to print out the online voucher/receipt for the class. In my office, I’m not connected to any of the printers because it is not really my office. It’s my client’s office, I just work from there and report to my head office once in a while.

I saved the voucher in a flash and asked this nice guy if I could use his system to print it out. I told him that I did not want him to see what I was printing so he actually got up to give me privacy. I printed out my voucher, grabbed it while it was still rolling out of the printer and rushed off… I left the office quite early cos I didn’t wanna be late for my first class.

Next day, I showed up to work bruised and sore all over, but still on the high from my class… I guess the soreness made me a little slow cos my colleague asked what was wrong with me. I told him my back hurt and another middle aged lady some desks away from where I sit piped, “Eyah… sorry. Is it because of the strip dancing?”

Later, when I regained consciousness (I think I fainted from mortification), I asked her how she knew… she said that “they” saw the voucher in the printer. Apparently, I sent it to the demonic printer that has issues and prints out whatever number of copies of your document that the devils tells it to print. So, it was no secret that I went pole dancing… copies of my voucher were scattered around the office like a church program flyer.

She tried to make up of for the embarrassment by telling me that there was nothing to be ashamed of… how it is good exercise… and if she could she would blah blah blah…

*weeps*

I’m over it now… but I just wish she would STOP CALLING IT STRIP DANCING!!!

( ._.)

Have a wonderful week y’all.