04 December, 2012

Day 4

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:38 PM 0 comments

I turned 21 this year.

Honestly, I have to keep reminding myself of my age. It’s been a constant problem and I can’t wrap my finger around the reason why I simply cannot remember my own age.  

But that’s not the point.

Turning 21 was a milestone for me, and I’m writing about it because it was on that day that I truly was more depressed than I have been this entire year. And, surprisingly, it wasn’t because no one bothered to remember this time, or because I didn’t even have a cake or a party, or even because I didn’t get a single present (as usual). Believe it or not, I spent the entire day sulking about how everything I’d planned for my life had been shot to hell.

If you’ve read my earlier posts (from when I first started blogging) then you know what exactly I’m referring to. 2012 was supposed to be my year and I spent a whole day regretting all the ways it had turned out not to be.

But that’s the mistake I made. Looking back now I feel like going back in time and kicking myself out of bed. Probably shake some sense into the twat too.

I was so hung up on how many times I had supposedly failed and all the things I believe I had failed at when I should have been celebrating all the things that made 2012 such an awesome year. I wish I could really go into details about all the amazing stuff I’m talking about, but it’s a bit too personal. I know I keep saying that, but you’ll understand a bit better when my other posts go up later on.

This is probably one of the shortest posts I will write this month, and I just wanted to use the opportunity to tell you to be content. Seriously. You may not be where you want to be or where you think you ought to be, but God knows why you are where you are. The best you can do is ask for his guidance and try to fulfill the purpose he has outlined for you.

The more time you spend wishing things were different and regretting choices you made, the longer you delay that amazing plan God has for you. I kinda had to learn this the hard way, but you don’t have to.

I’m grateful I’m 21 (even though I forget). I’m grateful for the decisions I made that brought me to where I am right now. I’m not going to lie and say I’m perfectly happy, but I’m learning to be content and appreciative. Because as bad as I think I have it, there’s someone else out there who has it much worse than I do. And besides, God isn’t done with me yet.




03 December, 2012

Day Three

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:18 PM 1 comments

Sorry I couldn't come up with a catchy title.

If opposites attract, does this mean I’m the same as every guy I come in contact with?

You know what I wanted more than anything this year? A boyfriend.  An honest-to-God boyfriend. You can go ahead and laugh, but I’ve spent the past twelve months being ashamed and that’s behind me now. Why should I be ashamed because I want a lover of my own? Is it such a terribly unimaginable thing that I want to love and have my love reciprocated?

LOL. That was a bit intense.

Well, if I want(ed) a boyfriend so badly, why didn’t I get one? It’s not exactly like I can pluck a boyfriend off a tree, you know? *sigh* If only it were that simple though. Wouldn’t that be grand? Have a boyfriend plantation where every kind of boyfriend you could possibly dream up is grown (and sold at unbeatable prices, of course).

Romance, as I’ve often imagined what it should be in my spare moments, is dead to me. All the sweetness, and the happily-ever-after stuff you see in romantic movies, I have no idea what that’s like. Well, it would be more accurate to say I’ve never really experienced it first-hand. I’ve watched several of my friends fall in and out of love, and I’ve watched relationships blossom and wither. Did you know I once considered going into work as an official third wheel? Seriously. I mean, people are cool and they try not to point it out or be obvious, but I’m always just there – sitting beside a couple making out, walking beside or behind a couple holding hands, acting as a buffer between fighting couples – and it kind of sucks because I should at least get paid for doing what I’m good at.

But that is beside the point.

I told a friend of mine that I’ve never actually been wooed before and she burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. It really wasn’t funny. And that was what I wanted this year. To have someone actually woo me. Not necessarily with serenades from below my balcony at midnight or any of that stalker behavior, but a nice middle ground would be nice. I want someone to check up on me just because he misses talking to me or hearing the sound of my voice, and to stay in bed with me and watch series all day. Someone who I can tell absolutely any and everything to and not be judged, or laughed at, or made to feel inferior. All this may be because I’ve watched too many Rom-Coms, but who cares? The heart wants what the heart wants.

To be fair, I did come pretty close this year. I met someone who I thought was perfect for me. And he was. A man who is sweet and kind and everything I would imagine a perfect person to be if ever such a person existed. And for a while, what we had was enough. So what happened? It’s simple, really. I’m a girl. I get emotional and I fuck shit up. It’s what I do *shrug*. A friend of mine once told me I panic and hit ‘self-destruct’ when things start going good for me, and I really need to get some help. I thought it was a stupid thing to say at the time, but it kind of makes sense now. I’ve tried to console myself by tricking myself into believing I had to call our arrangement off because he wasn’t ready to commit and it was for the best, but who am I kidding?

One day, I snapped and asked a couple of my male friends what would make them not want to date me. A lot of the possible reasons I got were snide and hurtful and those guys would be dead if I didn’t love them so deeply, but one kind of stuck. Instead of answering my question, he turned it around on me. “Why wouldn’t anyone want to date you, Coco?”

I haven’t exactly had the best track record when it comes to relationships (that’s a post for another day) and I was okay with it for a really long time. This year, I’ve come to understand that it’s not as easy as I thought to fall out of old habits. You just get so used to a certain kind of lifestyle; you can’t just up and change it one day. And I really did try this year. I worked so hard at being someone that someone would want. Someone he would want. But try as I might, it was all just futile.

I’ve always seen myself as a particular kind of girl, and I was pretty damn proud of who I was for the longest time.  Now, the year’s about to end and I don’t want to go into 2013 that same girl. A lot has happened this year to help me realize this. I told my closest friends I was going to change and I will. I’m working on me now – getting to know myself better, accepting myself, decide what I really want, work on my discipline – because I understand now that I truly have to be completely and utterly in love with myself if I want anyone to feel the same way about me. No matter how long it takes for me to get where I need to be, I’m going to do it. And then I’m going to find my Happily Ever After.



02 December, 2012

New Beginnings

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:57 PM 0 comments

I would tell you all about the pretty decent Christmas I had, but that’s so 2011. So, I’ll simply state that I started this year with a bit of a bang.

This year for me was a year for new beginnings as well as for firsts; starting with January 1st, 2012 which was my very first New Year celebration with Ayo :D. It was an especially amazing moment for me to just spend this time with this gorgeous child that I brought forth and marvel at God’s goodness to me. I’ve never been more proud of anyone or anything in my entire life.

Those who know me know 2011 was a pretty trying year for me, what with being pregnant and hiding it and giving birth and not going back to school and all, so I can easily say that was the biggest change for me this year. I cannot accurately describe to you how ecstatic I was when I mother informed me I would be going back to school with simply words. I should record myself reenacting that exact moment and upload the video. It may not be exactly the same, but you should get some sort of idea.  It didn’t matter where I was going to school.  All I knew was that I was getting a second chance, and I was beyond grateful both to God and my mum.

And yes, God. That’s another thing this year. I’m almost ashamed to say I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have God looking out for you. I’m thankful for those who helped bring me back from the edge I was dangling precariously from.  Prayer is THE greatest, most amazing life-changing option God has blessed us with. You can argue with me if you want, it won’t make it any less true. I know how many times I got so close to just switching off and pulling the plug, but prayer, mine and those people said on my behalf, pushed me through.

The most trying period was when I had to go stay with my dad and one of his wives in Badagry while waiting for school to start. Details of my time there would make for an interesting blog series, but I find it’s best to lock all my memories away until they are absolutely necessary. It was a real trying experience adapting to this new environment, living with these people I didn’t know anything about and had never met before but were somehow family. It wasn’t really horrible per say, my dad’s wife was really nice for the most part and my dad was never really home which took care of all the awkwardness I would have had to deal with otherwise.

What was the most super amazing thing to happen this year? I STARTED WORK!!! Yeah, I know! Seriously. I was all down and depressed and in need of some sort of distraction to take my mind away from all the anger. And then one day, someone asks if I’d like to fill in for him tweeting for TNC. It’s almost been a whole entire year now, and working for (with?) thetoolsman is the best thing ever! I can never thank him enough for all the opportunities he’s made available for me, and the advice, and encouragement and every other thing he’s done that would be too much and too personal to mention here, but I will most definitely keep trying. So, thank you, Tula! You are awesome! 

How can I talk about this year being a year of firsts without talking about Ghana? Would that make any sense? No, it wouldn’t. Moving t Ghana for school came with all you would expect relocation to. I wish I could say it was my first time living out of a hotel, but it really wasn’t. It was however, the first time I absolutely abhorred it. Ghana is SO very different from all that I’d heard it was, I’ve honestly tried my hardest to settle in and acclimatize, but there seems to always be another irritating surprise waiting for me around the corner. I even tried making friends with some people in class, against my better judgment, and even that didn’t alleviate the annoyance festering within. If anything at all, it made it worse. But I am grateful, nonetheless. Hopefully, I will find the time (and proper company) to explore this city and find all the glorious things I’ve been told it has to offer. They have to be here somewhere, right?

That’s the wonderful thing about new experiences; they mold you one way or the other and somehow manage to make you better. Sure, it might hurt. It might almost kill to try. But you’ll always be the better for it (that I can assure you of). I would point out a very relevant example, but that would be too personal. Then why mention it? Because it’s my blog and I can type what I want to. Bite me.

That’s it for today. Come back again tomorrow for another piece as I wrap-up 2012.


01 December, 2012

2012 Wrap-Up

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:30 PM 0 comments

“Hello Again” to all my friends!
I’m glad you came to play!
The fun and learning never ends.
Here’s what we did today.

Well not just today, really. This IS the 2012 wrap-up after all.

This year has been eventful, to say the least. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been as eventful for my writing. I should apologize, but who would I be kidding? Whether I write or not, the world keeps spinning round, so let’s just get on with it.

If this is your first time here, welcome to my new blog. Try not to get too attached. This is the fifth one :)

This year, I’ve been through almost every possible experience and ridden on several roller coasters. It’s been simply amazing! So amazing that I’ve decided to share my year with you, who I love so so dearly (obviously). 

This is just an introduction, so I’ll be brief.

You may or may not already know I went back to school this year. This is just one of the any exciting new things that happened. I want to just spill out my entire guts on this page right now, but then it’ll ruin the whole thing I have planned for the month. Yes, I have a whole thing planned. And I’m going to finish. I know I haven’t had the best track record with completion, but t’s different this time.

It’s not a challenge that I feel I HAVE to do, or something I’m doing just because. I’m doing this wrap-up because I have a lot of emotions and thoughts that I allowed well-up in my heart/mind/soul that I really just need to pass on to someone before the year ends.

Right now, I’m really just rambling because I’m trying so hard to get you to come back without giving any of the good stuff away. It’s really hard. See, initially i thought about doing this on 19th Street, but i just have SO much i want to talk about (like I've said about a thousand times now).

So please, stop by daily if you can. I have no idea what tie the posts will be going up, but there will be one every single day.

Again, welcome.

Peace, love, and Ribena.

28 September, 2012

Resurrection

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 12:46 AM 0 comments
I used to be good at this. Like, REALLY good.

I’d stay up really late and write all my posts early in the morning before going to sleep. My mind always seemed more functional when the sun was just threatening to rise. I remember curling up under my duvet, comfortable and content on my mattress on the floor of my mother’s room. Yes, I used to sleep in my mum’s room. Her AC was the only one in the house that worked. Anyway, that was it then. It would be 3am and all I’d have was a pack of digestive, a bottle of Ribena, and all these stories running through my mind. Beautiful words and brilliant sentences all pushing themselves to the front of my mind and then on to the screen of my phone.

So, what happened?

Things change, they say. It’s supposed to be the only constant thing, right? Cool.

I guess I just lost it. It’s not that I don’t want to write anymore though. I still do. I just don’t for absolutely any reason. Maybe I’m lazy. Maybe I’ve forgotten how. Now, all the fun I had writing is just like an album of old pictures I really don’t like looking at. Not because the pictures are ugly, but because they just make me feel so sad.

I’ve started so many stories and just abandoned them halfway. It’s sad. But I’m changing that.

How?

Well, I’m writing this now, aren’t I? I don’t even know what made me pick up the laptop in the first place, but I did. And I love the way my fingers feel as they dance around the keyboard pushing these ridiculous buttons. It’s amazing. I have so many stories I want to tell you and a whole lot of experiences I’d like to share.

A lot’s happening right now for me. It’s not all good, but there are some bright spots and I cling to them for dear life. So be warned that the ride we are about to embark one, together hopefully, might get rough. But just stick with me and it could all be worthwhile.

Yes, a journey. Notice the title of the new blog? That’s how I see things now; like I’m hitchhiking through life.  Every day brings a new place (emotionally) and a new experience and I intend to explore every bit of it.
It’s going to get personal for a while, but things will pick up eventually. I promise.

I just want to write.


09 August, 2012

iBlend Presents RE_UP 3 #GUILTYPLEASURES The POST RAMADAN RAVE

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 1:43 PM 0 comments

Image

 



As part of its annual road map Abuja leading social network and Events outfit iBlend Services, hosts a one of a kind club rave themed Re-Up. This exclusive party is held yearly to celebrate the end of the Ramadan fast and is targeted towards all our Muslim Brothers and sisters, the upwardly mobile socialite crowd and the fct’s show business community. Always highly anticipated, Re-Up is one of the top ranked parties on the Abuja events calendar. Hosted successively in Abuja since 2010, Re-Up III promises to be bigger and better than ever before.

 

This year’s event is hosted in conjunction with one of the FCT’S Finest night life establishments, in Classic iBlend fashion we are pulling out all the Bells and whistles for this one,

 

Aptly themed  “Guilty Pleasures”……..YOU BETTER BE PREPARED FOR ANOTHER SPECTACULAR EXPERIENCE

Event details will be released in three days time so WATCH THIS SPACE

 

iBlend……..do you?"

15 July, 2012

Enough

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 1:22 AM 4 comments
So, I wrote this cuz I wasn't sure I could still write. I don't even have a title :( Suggestions are welcome though :) Enjoy



The fluorescent light in the rundown kitchen flickered on and off repeatedly, leaving five-and two-second intervals between each shift in lighting change.

Lara stood motionless, staring at the food placed at the center of the serving tray, the cutlery laid delicately next to it. Steam rose gently out of the bowl containing the fish pepper soup he'd demanded her to make when he had gotten back from work. I wonder what he'll find wrong with it tonight. At the thought, contempt clouded her mind and, for some odd reason, all she could taste was steel.

Several attempts at lifting the tray had failed pitifully. Lara placed her hands on the counter, the cold causing her to shiver involuntarily. Her bones felt weak and hurt. The skin above the bones hurt even more and was covered in bruises. Slowly, she lifted her hand to her face and touched her left cheek with her fingertips. Swollen. Liquid, warm and sticky, greeted the probes and she flinched. For someone who hated the sight of blood, she'd seen an awful lot of it over the past years. This has to stop.

She was at war with her conscience. You see, this wasn't the first time Lara had entertained this idea, but she'd always ended up backing out. Why? She wasn't quite sure. Fear, maybe. Or most likely the barely recognisable fragments of the intense love they'd shared at a time that seemed too far back in history for Lara to remember. Whatever it was, it had kept Lanre alive this long. No more.

She whispered those two words over and again in the empty kitchen and felt her resolve strengthen. She knew this time was different. Lanre need to pay. For everything. She simply couldn't afford to allow him another opportunity to lay a hand on her again. All the promises he'd made about things getting better had finally come to mean nothing more than empty words. Lanre's constant cries and pleas whenever she was packed and ready to walk out, crooning in her ear how she was his entire world, how much he needed her, and how she was the most important thing in the world to him, meant nothing more to Lara now, than promises of another incident.

A low laugh escaped Lara's lips as she remembered how often he'd cried and told her how much he hated himself for hitting her. How ashamed it made him. Funny how all that shame went out the window whenever he perceived another slight on her part. The fists would fly again, and no one could do anything to stop Lanre whenever his eyes and mind where blinded with rage. The neighbours had even stopped trying to come to her aid when Lanre had thrown a brick at a man who had pulled him off Lara's tiny, cowering frame on the concrete floor of the compound courtyard. It's either I kill him or he kills me. And me, I'm not ready to die.

A glance down at the bowl in front of her informed Lara she'd have to reheat the peppersoup. God forbid she presented her beloved husband with a lukewarm meal. As she shut the oven door and set the timer, the fluorescent tube flickered back on and she caught her reflection in the oven door. The woman before her was barely recognisable. She saw a woman who had been brutally beaten down by life, not the soft, happy features she once boasted. Gone was the youthful fire in her eyes that Lanre claimed had attracted him to her in the first place. Now, hey eyes were just cold...and dead. At that moment, Lara realised more than ever how desperately she needed that light back. And just what she was willing to do to get it back.

Retribution. She could almost taste it. She knew she was ready.

"OMOLARA!!!" Lanre's voice startled her, but only briefly. She stopped the microwave and pulled out the food as he shouted again from the living room. "Ahnahn! How long does it take to make peppersoup?! Are you cooking for an army?!"

Lara composed herself and headed towards the living room with the bowl of peppersoup, stopping by the door to take the pestle in her other hand. She took a deep breath as she stepped into the living room. This is it. She walked up to where Lanre was seated in front of the TV and stood behind him, hoping her resolve didn't fail her now. Lanre stretched out his hand without even bothering to turn his attention from the flickering images before him. Finally she opened her mouth, her voice a low whisper. "The food is here, Lanre."
"Put it in my hand now! Are you stupid?!"
"No."
Lanre finally turned around, and the look in his eyes was unmistakeable. Hatred. Pure. Undiluted hatred.

Before Lanre could speak or react, Lara threw the bowl at his face. As expected, Lanre screamed and covered his face giving her enough time to steady herself and hold the pestle firmly in both hands. He managed to open his eyes just as she raised the pestle above her head, and Lara recognised another emotion register on her soon-to-be ex-husband's face as the realisation of what she had planned dawned on him. His mouth opened, and his free hand went up in a petty attempt to defend himself, but she was having none of it. With every ounce of force she could muster, Lara brought the pestle down on Lanre's head.

There was a loud pop and then a crack as she penetrated the skull, followed by a wet squelching sound. Her anger boiled over and she kept hitting his head with the pestle, her screaming serving as another outlet for her anger and frustration.

Anger subsided, Lara stood panting in the living room, the people in the television still carrying on with their business, and surrounded by a mess of blood and brain matter. And then she realised the full implications of what she had done. "Oh, darling. I'm so sorry. She whispered to no one. "You can't imagine how much I hate myself for this. You're my world. I'm nothing without you, and I promise this won't happen again." And then she laughed. It was loud and carefree, filled with purity and joy and the execution of darkness. Her first real laughter in years.

The sight of Lanre's chair soaked in the remnants of what used to be his head filled Lara with unimaginable joy and a sense of fulfilment. She went upstairs, packed up most of her belongings and took her time getting cleaned up. As she headed out the door of their apartment, she glanced back at the mess in the sitting room and thought about what Lanre would say if he could still speak. "Ode! Useless fool. I'm going out. This place should be spotless by the time I get back."

23 May, 2012

Of Writing, Gadgets, The Beginning of The End, and other Cool Stories

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 7:47 PM 4 comments
Tonight, I'm putting this up for you guys that didn't read it when it featured on Andy's Blog It's a bit old, so forgive me. Not really in the mood to write tonight.

**********************************************************************

First off, I'm a writer. Yes! A pretty amazing one at that (I've been told). Every time someone goes "My goodness, you write so well!" (Or something like that) I blush for at least 2 minutes before filing the memory away in one cabinet or the other because, sadly, my mind is as organised as catastrophe. So, yeah. I'm an awesome writer. My dust-covered blogs can attest to that. Yes, blogS. I have two. Started one early last year because I missed the joy of writing. I stopped writing in secondary school because teachers kept trying to enter me in competitions and stuff and I was "Na mhen.", so I figured a blog would help me get back to what I love(d?) doing. Everything was going all fine and peachy, and then *insert car crash sound effect of your choice*.

I'm not going to say I was going through mid-life crisis before someone will email me a slap. But I went through hell. For a while, it didn't seem like I was passing through. More like I'd stupidly decided to go there on vacation and chillax. Anyhu, I pulled through (yay!) but my blog suffered. I thought I'd lost the passion for writing. Overwhelmed with helplessness, I did what every blogger does when face with that dreadful block. I embarked on the 30 Day Blog Challenge. Don't worry. I didn't finish. I just panicked and opened another blog. And now, here I am again.

See, the second blog was supposed to be strictly fiction. The idea came to me in a trance, and I'd written out the forst ten chapters in a flurry. Typed it all out on my phone like a bawsette. So, I opened the blog and started putting the chapters up week after week. And then my phone got stolen. I won't even tell you how it happened. All you need to know is I went into a kind of shock for about three days until I got a new phone. And now, I'm struggling with my new blog as well (feel free to pity me).

The whole stolen phone ordeal almost destroyed me. You see, the criminals didn't just steal my phone. They cleared out all the gadgets in the house. Two laptops, a tablet, and about five phones. Don't you wonder what it is that would make a person want to steal someone else's gadgets? What is it? Me, I'm not techno savvy at all, so I've never really gotten it. Sure, I like pretty stuff. I got my first blackberry simply because it was blue. I've once bought a laptop because it was pink and could fit in my handbag. When I'm out shopping for phones and stuff, I'm not thinking *insert whatever serious tech people think here*. I walk into a store and price all the cute things I see until I can afford one. So, yeah. I like cute stuff. But I wouldn't go out of my way to steal one.

Except if maybe I got really drunk and was dared. Then I'd probably maybe do it. Maybe. I have a massive keloid on my left ear and a budding one on my right because of a stupid dare, so yeah. Who knows? But I quit drinking. I did. I'm now strictly a social drinker. I knew I was finished when a friend saw me and said "Coco, no drink today?". I sat down and thought about my life for a full five seconds. It was then I decided to turn my life around. So, yay! No more booze. I encourage you to quit too. Alcohol is bad, you know? Trust me. You don't want have to have to wake up on a tree branch one morning and have to put the fragments of memories from the night before together while you walk home alone in nothing but an oversized shirt and boxers.

But do you know what's more painful than an inexplicable bruised rib after a night out you can't remember? Owning a HTC HD7 for about five seconds before it's snatched out of your hands while you stand there, mouth agape, eyes shining brighter than halogen bulbs, and helpless. I may not be all lovey dovey with tech stuff, but it was a new phone, and it was gift from someone really close to me, and it can pain. It's even more painful when you carry that anger and buy expensive shoes for your baby only to get home and realise they aren't her size.

Sha, we can only thank God for small joys. Like your daughter waking up in the middle of the night (after hogging half the bed and pushing you into a corner) and seeking out your chest to rest her head. Or that really adorable voice note a friend sends you that just makes you smile. Or spending an amzing day with people who really care about you. Or that one person that stays up late with you until you feel better. Or Ribena. Or maltesers. Or chocolate cake. Cake... Yup. For me, it's the minute things people hardly notice that give me joy. That and attention. Lots of it. But that's all for another day.

Peace, Love, & Ribena (‾⌣‾)♉

22 May, 2012

CAUSE & EFFECT: BOREDOM

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 7:44 PM 10 comments
We've all been bored. While some very rarely experience the phenomenon known as boredom, there are those who hold high-ranking political positions in the kingdom of the bored. Unfortunately, I wandered into this kingdom a while back. I've been trying my very possible best to escape, but everything I tried came to nought.

Not too long ago, I found myself being registered as a citizen and I just received my passport about a week ago. I'm planning to have a party. Make a whole affair out of it. You should come.

Back to my story.

So, I was lounging on my bed enjoying my citizenship and doing my passport proud when I received a broadcast message:

WAIT...PLEASE DONT MOVE!
Take a picture of whatever is in front of U, send it to me, I want to see wat u're seeing right now:D ...then forward this message and see how many random pictures you get!


Can you guess what I did? Yup! That's right. I closed the chat #LikeABawse. I don't play all those silly bb games. Most of them are just really annoying. I worked too hard to attain my coo keed status, and I can't afford to just fling it away like used paynt. Anyhu, that's how I closed the chat and put my phone down.

After about five seconds of listening to the fan, I picked it back up, took a picture of what I was staring at, and sent it to the person who sent me the broadcast ( -.- ). After a conversation that's none of your business, I put the phone back down and stared at the ceiling for a bit. For lack of anything more entertaining to do, thanks to my citizenship, I picked the phone up again and sent the broadcast to everyone on my contact list.

In retrospect, I should have probably selected the people I was send the message to carefully, as opposed to just ticking 'select all', but I'm glad I did because I learnt some stuff I would like to share with you today.

What did I learn from sending a broadcast asking people to send me pictures of what they were looking at?

    1. People are either too busy for their own good, or just stuck up. Before I sent the BC, I informed my contacts via my PM, urging them to kindly oblige me as I was bored. Inspite of my appeal, would you believe some people still ignored the message? Ehn! If you ask them now, they'll say they were working. People sent me pictures from their offices! And those that couldn't sent me IMs explaining the situation. So what could you possibly be doing?!

    2)People spend a lot of time in the bathroom. (•_•) I got a fair amount of bathroom pics. Sinks, bathtubs, bathroom doors, the view from the open toilet door... *sigh* Kinda reminded me of rushing into strangers' bathrooms one time when I had an august visitor. Mind you, diarrhoea is the shittiest august visitor you will ever have. But this isn't about me and my bowel movements. What are you guys spending so much time in the bathroom doing? O.o

    3. People are liars, or actually really bored. Too many people didn't send pictures of what they were actually looking at. Am I supposed to believe like 65% of the people on my contact list spend their time staring at walls, fans, closets, and such? Camaaan!!! Some people even sent pictures of walls (¬_¬) Who knows. Maybe you guys were browsing. Maybe. But, if there really is such a vast number of bored people out there, maybe we should consider forming some sort of club. Don't you think?

    4. People are shifty. Those who sent me pictures of their laptop screens (¬_¬) I'm onto you. You were staring at your desktop, yeah? Cool story, bro. I gotcha. And the ones that showed me documents. I'm supposed to believe that's what you're using the laptop for ba? No p. I'll play along. I would've maybe even chopped small if you'd shown me a game or a movie. But documents? Your desktop? Really? I just hope you were able to pick back up whatever it was you were really doing from where you left off.

    5. People don't read anymore. :( Not one person sent me a picture of an open book. Or a PDF on the laptop at the very least. It's honestly quite disheartening. Especially as the spoken and written english in the country is steadily deteriorating. Please, let's read more. Novels, newspapers, magazines, self-help books, books that are actually educational. Please. Plus, at least now those of you that tweet ish like "back to reading" are probably lying.

    6. @rhaihan_jannah is either a twin, or has super powers. This is probably the most important thing I learnt today. She sent me a picture of HERSELF! So, she was either staring at herself (O_O) or at her twin that she's managed to keep a secret for this long. I'm just happy I'm the one that uncovered this secret. Feel free to thank me with monetary gifts.


Hopefully, when next I'm bored the club for bored people would be set up and in full operation, and I'll have somewhere to go. Instead of having to rely on petty bb games for entertainment. Meanwhile, feel free to leave helpful suggestions that will be deeply appreciated in the comment section below.

*goes back to reading*

21 May, 2012

Desire

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 9:09 PM 0 comments
Too tired to write today, so I decided to share something I absolutely love instead. It's all the same isn't it? :D

20 May, 2012

My Rainbow

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 6:25 PM 1 comments
Life. Fire. Power. Red hot pain.
Blood that runs through my veins,
Filling me with the illusion of life,
and yet tumbles out at every scratch
Every cut releases a fresh drop
Cool. Smooth.
Running down my skin free of restraint.
The trail it leaves easily tints my skin
The colour left behind...

It reminds me of leaves in autumn
And long walks along the beach watching the sunset.
But only just a little
The beautiful marigolds that lace the garden across the street
How delicate they look. I compare them to me.
This cell, it makes me weak.
Tortures my soul and frees my tears
I scream with my lips sealed so no one hears
Who will save me?

I need a hero; a man of strength and valour
To don his cape and lasso the moon
It's been so long since I saw the sun
Who knew I'd miss it so much?
Not me, obviously. I was basking in it's warmth, and cussing it out when I felt it was too much.
Now it's gone and I crave those burns I so despised.
The canary, she sings to melt my heart
I wish her away, but still she stays
Chirping in my ear, day in, day out

But there's little I can do
You see? We're stuck here, we two
And the green grass she speaks off is way over on the other side
A side I'm starting to believe doesn't exist
I journeyed a while searching, before I wound up here
And all I have to show for it are my insecurities and shattered hope
They ricochet off the walls and stab me repeatedly
At first it hurt, but I've grown accustomed to the feeling
And I completely understand
They're as irritated by me as I am by myself

I've embraced the darkness almost completely
Let it merge with me, and take over
I begin to forget things I need so desperately to remember
Like if the sky is really blue
Or if I really did enjoy the blues
The cheering crowd echoes at the back of my mind
Those days, only yesterday, seem so long long ago
Voices not so distinct, faces all merging into one giant ball of chaos
I try to reach, open my mouth to scream

Alas I'm yet lost and silent
Trapped in darkness as vast as the midnight sky
Desperately trying to escape myself.
Yes, I'm aware I'm trapped in my own mind.
A web of hurt, and hopelessness and grief
One I took the time to weave so intricately
And now I seek release, so I must make peace

I must treat myself like royalty
Move and speak like a greek goddess
I've come to realise no one will do this but me
Each man the emperor of his own universe
Laying back and letting subjects feed them grapes all freshly plucked
For the help I seek, I know I must look past this realm
I recall being there a while, but my patience must have worn out
Maybe I need to find my way back there. Maybe.

There's a pot of gold of gold waiting if you follow a rainbow?
Bitch please, that shit's just a metaphor.
Before you go searching, gotta ask yourself watchu looking for.
Sometimes, the insecurities they take a break
And then what little hope is left tries to sneak back in
Most times, it succeeds but it never stays long
And it just feels like I'm back at square one
But hope is what we need the most
Because only when you hope for something with all your heart
Can you even begin to have faith
Isn't that what they say.

I guess my real problem isn't really the lack
But that more often than not, against all else, I just really hope it all fades to black.

18 May, 2012

Stories That Touch 3...And a Half (•_•)

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:10 PM 0 comments
Please don't hate me. I couldn't figure out what to write about today, so I decided to put up the extra two paragraphs I've managed to write in continuation of the story I'm doing. Like I said, I really don't know where this story is going. I'm just writing as it comes to me, and I'm not even certain I'm gonna finish it. Bear with me. You guys are awesome keezes all around :D

*********************************************************************************************************
Dee screams as he starts crawling ontop of her, her body squirming in revulsion and trying to avoid as much of his touch as she can as his hands grope at her breasts. He lines himself up with her and she squeezes her eyes shut, not wanting to see what's about to go into her. Legs pulled taut to either side of her, and his weight on her preventing any upward movement, Dee realises there's no escape from his prodding shaft. She is caught and susceptible to him.

His cock nuzzles up to her and starts to enter as he moves around on top her. Dee whimpers as he grabs her chin and turns her head to face him. Even with eyes squeezed tightly shut, she couldn't bear to leave her face turned upright. She feels his fingers on her eyelids, trying to force them open. A crooning hiss urges her to look, but she resists as long as she can. All the while, his cock is inching closer and closer to having its entire head inside of her.

She knows he's almost all the way inside of her, and shame washes over her as she finds herself, once again, longing for him. If she could move, she would be thrusting upwards to take him in, and the realisation of this strengthens her resolve not to look. Deep down inside of her, Dee knows if she were to look at him, at those dark eyes, she would be lost forever. Gone, just another unsolved missing case like the ones she always watches on Crime Network. He moves a finger to get a stronger hold on one eyelid, and Dee feels her right eye inching open. She squirms under him in intense fright as his face comes into view just inches from hers.

Suddenly, his hands pull away and Dee immediately shuts her eyes again, saved from having to look at him. She's wondering what made him withdraw so quickly, when the cry of a baby rings across the sky. And then she feels herself standing upright, her arms and legs free, and fully clothed. Cautiously, she cracks one eye open. Before here is the dining table, the china cabinet is further along, and more sounds are coming from her hip. The baby is up and crying.

Heaving a sigh of relief, and regret, she moves around the table to the kitchen door. In an attempt to make herself feel better about the experience she just had, Dee thinks how the swinging doors could have been used during the time people had dinosaurs for pets. Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen is really modern. There's a stainless steel fridge and oven with a gas stovetop, a stainless steel island with a black granite surface in the middle, and dangling above the island are three cast iron frying pans, four stainless steel pots, and two oven mitts, white with red roses and pink frill.

Dee opens the fridge and finds several tupperware dishes, each one marked with a label describing its contents - pot roast and steamed potatoess, steak, gumbo, fried chicken, and even pizza. On the top shelf, there are a number of baby bottles. Dee grabs one, screws the top off, and turns to the microwave. There's a note on the door that says "Micro the bottle for twenty seconds"

17 May, 2012

How Nursery-Friendly Are Nursery Rhymes?

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 9:29 PM 3 comments
Okay. So, nursery rhymes are usually songs and verses primarily written/sang for children, right? If that's the case, then why are a whole of them so sad and dreary? You can't say you haven't noticed it too.


Jack and Jill

“Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down
And broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after”


We all know the Jack and Jill story. I have to commend them for trying to protect innocent minds from the truth about what they really went up that hill to do ("fetch a pail of water"? Hehehe. She must have been quite the squirter, no?) Let's brush what really went down aside for a bit and focus on what's really important.

So, after climbing a hill with Jill, Jack then fell from said hil and broke his head. You know how deadly a head injury can be. He didn't just bump his head against a stone o! He BROKE it! And that's not the end

Up got Jack, and home did trot 
As fast as he could caper
He went to bed and bound his head
With vinegar and brown paper.


You see, Jack goes home with his broken head, probably bleeding all the way, and how he even managed to stay conscious is beyond me. At home, vinegar is applied to his injury. Have you ever sliced your hand with a knife and then immediately poured a handful of salt on the cut? No? You should. It's less painful than pouring vinegar in an injury. Note he's in bed before the vinegar is applied. This is because the pain will knock you out. Brown paper? I'm going to imagine the rhyme's talking about some sort of plaster. Problem is, in my head, Jacks injury covers a reasonable portion of his head and I can't imagine there's a band aid big enough to cover it. More? Of course.

When Jill came in how she did grin
To see Jack's paper plaster;
Mother vexed did whip her next
For causing Jack's disaster.


Jill comes in and grins, excited about her brother's pain (or about her orgasm). I can't really say I blame her though, because I tend to laugh when I see certain injuries as well. But, we're not here to talk about me. So, Jill sees Jack's injury and her immediate response is to grin. And then mother whips her. But is mother really whipping her for smiling? Or for not coming back with the water she supposedly went to fetch? These are questions we need to ask ourselves.

What does a kid really take away from this nursery rhyme? Why was it really written? Did you know that the earliest version of this rhyme actually had two guys (Jack and Gill) going up a hill? I don't even want to go down that theoretical road.

I'm just saying. Some nursery rhymes aren't exactly built for actual nurseries. When infants and toddlers and the like hear this stuff, they don't even know they're being scarred. It's part of the reason why children are so aggressive all the time, I'm sure.

But is it better to allow children get brainwashed into enjoy violence than to acclimatise then to idiocy (with the help of rhymes like that Yankee Doodle nonsense)? It's a tough call for me. I'll probably just keep singing gospel songs to my princess (•^_^•)

16 May, 2012

Stories That Touch 3

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 6:28 PM 1 comments
Dee found herself wondering how being on an old freighter would feel, only moving as fast as the wind would permit, and sleeping in shifts to make up for the lack of space. Enveloped by these thoughts, she made her way around the table before walking past the china cabinet on the way to the kitchen. A flash of light catches her eye, and her eyes are drawn straight to the storm-tossed freighter.

Suddenly, rain is coming down hard on her, and the ground is rolling to and fro. Stunned, Dee reaches out with one hand and tries to grab hold of a piece of wood. It's extremely dark, and she's unable to make out anything until a flash of lighting spears across the sky accompanied by a mighty clash of thunder. What little light the lightening provided made it possible for Dee to see spot a railing a few feet from where she stands. Past the railing, there is a roiling sea, and the ground and carpet have been replaced by broken planks.

A length of rope forms a noose around her ankle, and Dee begins to scream hysterically. She feels a hand on her shoulder and turns to face whoever touched her, but she just faints instead.

When she comes to, she is on her back, and the rain seems to have stopped. Although, the ground is still swaying a little, and she can still make out the sound of gusting wind, a crack of lighting, and then the boom of thunder. Dee opens her eyes to see she is in a sort of cabin with close walls and a high ceiling. All around her are barrels and boxes, and there's a sort of path down the middle.

Almost as soon as she notices that she and everything around her are swaying back and forth, she hears a hiss to her left. Shrieking, she attempts rolling off where she lay and discovers it is a hammock. Dazed, she laid under the sudden hammock roof until one of the hissing creatures reached for her. Dee scrambles backwards and runs headfirst into a beam. Ignoring the pain, she scrambles upwards and races down the innards of the boat.

She spots a door just ahead of her, and hopes it leads back to the house she's somehow left behind, and an exit from this boat on a roiling ocean with man-like creatures. Dee hopes the door will, at the very least, provide an escape from the one creature not too far off, hissing and scrabbling, chasing after her.

Dee's hands are pressed to the door and she's searching frantically for the knob when the thing behind her let's out an ear-piercing scream. It seems like a "No", but she can't really make out the word. The high pitched wail continues to transcend in pitch, going even higher every time it feels like it's reached the crescendo. Although Dee had only been searching for the knob for about three seconds, the wailing seemed to go on forever, stretching into minutes, and then hours. During that time, the creature continued to inch closer.

As the creature prepared to lunge at her, Dee's hand finally finds the doorknob and impatiently yanks it open only to shut it almost immediately. There is no escape on the other side of the door, just more creatures. Dee's heart sinks as she realises she's trapped with no option for escape. Fuelled by adrenaline, she makes one last attempt at crawling away and fails. The thing has caught up to her and its slimy hands fall on her, pulling, clutching, and squeezing until she is erect and being pushed forward, into the door. More hands fall on her as she passes the doorway, and she finds herself being led towards a bed ahead. As soon as she's dropped on the bed, hands begin to tear and tug at her clothes, and after several rips and tears their eyes are alight on exposed breasts and legs.

But these creatures are not satisfied by that which is already displayed before them. There are more rips and tears around Dee's hip region, and she's soon lying before them in nothing but her birthday suit. A shiver runs down her spine in anticipation of what she knows is about to happen, but she's more afraid of these less than appealing creatures getting on top of her, than the sex itself.

Instead of immediately mounting her, the creatures huddle around a few feet away, and appear to be having a conversation. There are squeals and burps, and an occasional glance at Dee, who just stares at them, utterly struck with terror and, quite honestly, a little bit anxious. Only a little bit ashamed, Dee starts to feel excited about one of the almost human creatures having its way with her and starts to wonder which of them it will be. Her eyes quickly move from the one with tentacles in place of arms to the one without a nose, and then one that has scales instead of actual skin.

But they all part to reveal another creature standing behind them, already shirtless, and busy undoing his pants. He's focused on unfastening his pants, and so Dee can't see his face, but notices his body is lean and toned. His pants drop to the ground with a soft thud, and a small moan escapes from Dee's lips at the sight of his size. His skin is tanned golden, and there is a notable absence of hair in that region. He approaches her slowly, deliberately, and hands are on her again, grabbing her arms and legs, holding her open.

Dee struggles against the creatures holding her as he moves closer, really just wanting to be able to wrap herself around him and not be held open to simply be used. He finally looks up at her, and she wrestles even more fervently against her bonds. Her lust for the man before her immediately vanishes, and she would rather any of the other creatures have its way with her instead. While he has the body of a regular man, and his face is quite handsome, his eyes are dead. Pure black and large, almost like shark eyes. Except shark eyes have a white border, and you can see them move, whereas, this man's eyes are just dark, and there seems to be something roiling within them.

13 May, 2012

Stories That Touch 2

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 6:28 PM 1 comments
So, this is to make up for yesterday. It's kinda long, so it's okay if you don't go through with it. It's just a short story I'm working on as it comes to me. I mean, part of the reason why I'm doing this 30 Day thing is to work on my writing. Wrote the first part two days ago, so you can check that out if you want. :)


As they enter the house, Dee's eyes are immediately drawn to the stairs ahead of them. The carpet is a simple and red, running down the deep brown steps with white support, and the very intricately carved riser is also dyed the same dark brown. The entryway's wooden floor is stained dark brown as well, and it creaks a little as they walk over it.

They turn left into the sitting room, and once again Dee finds herself surveying her surroundings. The far wall is almost completely bare, save one lone painting and a very impressive cabinet/TV stand. On either side of the cabinet is a huge speaker, and the TV is stuck in sideways with a few cables dangling out of the space between the TV and the wood. There's an elongated oval coffee table in the middle of the room. Carved into the top of the table is a very delicate flower with vines that snake along the shape of the table, just shy of the actual edge by a few inches. At several spots along the vine, there are offshoots of leaves and flowers, and there's a mess of flowers and leaves running over one end of the table. The entire table itself is a beautiful brown, and the carved recesses are a darker shade of brown, almost reddish in colour.

In the center of the table, there are two piles of literature. One pile composes of magazines, and the other is a large pile of manuals. The TV manual is open on top the pile and slightly offset from the rest. As they get closer to the sofa, Elisa glances at the TV and then calls over her shoulder to her husband. "Anthony dear, don't you think now would be a good time to get the TV set up properly?" Dee is unaware that her hand has been released from Elisa's feathery touch until she notices her future employer waving her towards the sofa before moving towards. The chair at the end of the coffee table herself. She gets to the chair and turns, waiting for Dee to take a seat.

Dee carefully reaches for the arm of the sofa and lowers herself unto the plump cushion, but ends up falling back against the rear support. As it turns out, the cushions are plush as well as plump, and Dee felt like she's sunk not less than a foot into the deceptively soft sofa. Elisa starts laughing and Dee joins in after a few seconds. The two sit there for a while, laughing, until they're interrupted by Anthony cussing loudly. They watch briefly as he wedges himself between the TV and the cabinet and battles with wires, and then Elisa turns back to Dee and grills her on her past babysitting experiences and qualifications.

It's not long before she's satisfied and stares long and hard at Dee, trying to get a good look at her. As Elisa takes her time boring into Dee with her eyes, Dee does what little she can to try to hold her gaze. The depth of the blue has Dee feeling lost and they sit staring at each other for an indefinite amount of time. Finally, Eli's eyes travel downward and Dee's do the same, taking in her supple body like she was seeing it for the first time. Lingering on the swell of her breasts, watching with intense longing as they rise and fall with every breath. Dee forcefully shifts her gaze and lets her eyes fall on the skirt of Elisa's dress.

What she initially intended as a saving grace turns out to be quite the opposite as Dee finds herself both wondering and longing for what lies hidden underneath the voluminous folds of the skirt. Her mind begins to race with images of ripping the dress off and laying Elisa back on the chair with her legs spread wide. She imagines inhaling the folds of skin beneath and tasting what she's sure would be a delicious flavour. She fantasises about listening to her moan as her tongue and fingers explore the warm depth and tangy goodness her pussy has to offer, and feeling Elisa's breathing get sharper and more urgent as her hands close around the soft orbs on her chest.

Dee's fantasy goes as deep as having she and Elisa engaged in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing around in the other's mouth, before Elisa breaks the kiss and stares at her with lust-clouded eyes. She travels down Dee's body, planting kisses along the way, and Dee squirms and groans in reponse beneath her. At the junction of her legs, Dee spreads her legs wide to grant her access to every part.

A gentle shake drags Dee's mind back to the present and she glances up to stare into Elisa's concerned face. Red with embarrassment, she apologises for not paying attention, but can't miss the hint of joy in Elisa's eyes. Elisa opens her mouth to say something, but changes her mind as Anthony walks up to stand by her side. "Elisa darling, as much as you're enjoying torturing our new babysitter, we really have to be on our way. Dee, is it?" He pauses, and so I nod. "I'm terribly sorry about the TV, but there's a radio in the kitchen and you can help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. Emergency numbers are on the fridge." He helps Elisa up, and they rush towards the door.

At the door, Elisa turns and talks to Dee over her shoulder "The baby, Nora, is asleep upstairs. She's really friendly, so it shouldn't be a problem. If she wakes up crying, just call her 'booba' and she'll cheer right up. There's a baby monitor in the room upstairs, and the receiver's in the kitchen." Dee watches them leave and waves as they pull out of the driveway and speed off. Shutting the door behind her, Dee heads upstairs and seeks out the bedroom. The plush kingsize bed is made up, and there are boxes stacked neatly against the wall beside the door. There's an expensive-looking ornate drawer tucked away in a corner, and along the wall opposite is a once-white closet door. There are small corner dressers with one drawer each on either side of the headboard. The tops have identical alarm clocks, and the receiver for the baby monitor is on the left dresser. Realising there's no sound coming from the receiver, Dee picks it up and turns it over. No batteries.

She opens the drawer and finds an unopened pack of batteries. Taking the receiver and batteries with her, she leaves the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. She heads down the stairs, turns right, and lands in the dining room. The dining table immediately grabs her attention. It's obviously not a new one, but it's impressive nonetheless. The top is egg-shaped and extends maybe five feet across, with a white lace runner, held in place by a dark brown bowl of flowers, running across. It's supported by a single, very thick post with several arms, each one clutching some sort of orb, sticking out at the base.

Around the table are six chairs, each one beautifully carved. In the seat of each chair is a velvet red cushion tied to the runners of the back. The runners are spiralling twirls of wood, and the side post are round columns carved with the same intricate rose and vines as the coffee table. The legs of the chairs are just simple posts that thin as they rise towards the seat.

On the far side of the table, Dee notices a dark wood china cabinet with the same rose and vine detailing. The vines trail up the wood in an eccentric, twisting manner, broken up by a rose along several spots. The glass shelves hold several glass globes, filled with a number of differently coloured roses. The globe that really grabs her attention is the one with a little sailing ship inside it. The ship looks like it's floating in a rolling sea, and all the, except the one in front, sails have been drawn up and tied. Dee can't help but notice how much it resembles an old freighter preparing for a heavy storm.

11 May, 2012

Stories That Touch

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:31 PM 3 comments
It's 4pm, and the sun is just beginning its retreat when Dee pulls up in front of the house. She gets out of the car and makes her way up the driveway, not really paying attention because she's so focused on straightening her clothes. She really needs this job, and so she desperately wants to make a good first impression. A few feet away from the door, she finally takes a good look at the building she's been invited to and is instantly taken aback. It's just two storeys and not very big, so there isn't really much in terms of attention grabbing where size is concerned. What has Dee transfixed is the appearance of the house.

Like almost every house on the block, the upstairs has two windows. What's unusual is that the wood on the windows is bleached bone white, and they are specks of black from what Dee assumed are cracks in the wood. It's darker under the windows. Various ideas about what caused the stain run through Dee's mind - mildew, or water stains maybe- but a part of her mind holds fast to the idea that the house is crying.

The grand porch leading up to the door is also bleached the same white as the windows, but the dark spots are absent. Instead, there are streaks that look a bit grayish and they make the support beams look a bit like bones that had been left out to dry. The porch roof is raised in the middle to form a sort of pyramid/triangle, and the part just above the door is bleached the same bony white. However, there's an arrow pointing directly at the door, almost like the house itself is inviting you in.

The second storey windows have tinted glass, and are lit from withing so they look a bit like black eyeballs with red light coming through. Dee feels a shiver run down her spine, as she continues to examine the building. The rational part of her mind keeps singing in her mind how this is just a house and she's over thinking things, a less rational part that has seen one too many horror movies keeps telling her the house looks evil.

As if to give more truth to her fears, the left window shuts off when Dee turns to leave, making it look like the house is winking. Rooted to the spot by fear, Dee watches as a shadow appears behind the window on the right, and then listens to the voices coming from the house. Soon after, the front door opens and a tall, well-built man strides towards her. His blonde hair is tussled in a kind of sweep across his head, and he's wearing a dark grey business suit with a white shirt.

Before Dee can fully wrap her mind around what's happening, the man's hands have found one of hers and are pulling her towards the door while he prattles on and on about how wonderful it is that she could make it, and how glad he is to meet her, and other things that just sound like nonsense to her startled brain. And then they reach the front door, and she's standing there in all her magnificent glory. She's petite and blond, her luscious locks cascading down her shoulders in a classic southern belle way. Her dress, a deep resplendent purple, shows off her lithe body in perfect detail.

"Anthony, darling," her voice is light as air itself. If that's possible. "don't you think you should let our guest catch her breath?" Her fingers pry my hand loose from his ans she pulls me into the house with her. When we're a safe distance from her husband, she laughs and says "I told you that would happen."

10 May, 2012

Coco To The Rescue! (•^_^•)

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:37 PM 8 comments
Of course, everyone here has been asked what super power they would like to possess. I'd like to let those of you that have previously given me your answers all suck :p I'm now going to briefly run through super power's I've always thought about having.

"It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Coco Burra!!". The power of flight. I feel like the people we know have the power of flight i.e Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, et al have deceived us. Yes, we have been lied to. Especially by superman. I mean, think about it. Flying is basically kinda like moving in the sky the way you would on the ground, but harder. You have to take into consideration the atmosphere, and wind and all that technical stuff. How fast can you really fly and still be comfortable. The wind will keep getting in your eye, and there's that horrible feeling in your ears from the pressure. Well, flying would probably be an awesome power if you took aerial shots for a living. You'd make a killing, so I guess that would be okay.
LOL! Is ice cold breath really a super power? Is it really? What are you going to do with ice breath? Let's see... You could make instant popsicles/ice lollies. Or get attractive babes/guys like they always imply in those mint gum/toothpaste commercials, right? Oh! I watched 'Man On A Ledge' today, and I think the thing they did with the safe and liquid nitrogen was pretty cool, so you could probably do that with super ice breath. Yeah?

Invisibility could be cool, but is it really a power? Sure, no one will be able to see you, but then so what? Okay. Does being invisible also mean you can walk through walls and stuff? Cuz then you can actually rob a bank. But you have to think about the bag you're putting the money in. Can you extend your invisibility to objects around you? Invisibility would be really handy during one of the many awkward moments I'm so fund of having. :)

What would you do with X-ray vision? I've never really understood this one. If it's x-ray vision shouldn't that mean you can see people's bones and not through their clothes. I kinda get seeing through walls I guess. Haven't figured out what I'd do with x-ray vision, so I'm just gonna forge ahead. Okay? Okay.

At the top of my list are super speed and super strength. Being able to lift anything without breaking a sweat should be every female's dream. So all those boys will stop feeling like something special. Speed would be awesome, because then I wouldn't have to waste transport money going anywhere, or get on these Lagos buses that cause me so much grievance. I think I might miss the buses a little. Aside from being incredibly uncomfortable, my bus rides are the absolute best in terms of entertainment. But, being a safety freak, I'd probably have to have a helmet on if I'm gonna be moving that fast. In case I trip or something, you know?

Well, that's it from me. Feel free to leave your own comments/observations/thoughts in the comments section below. Have a wonderful night (•^_^•)

09 May, 2012

Back In The Days

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 9:00 PM 2 comments
When I tell people I grew up in the village, they hardly ever believe me. I guess I'm just too tush (•^_^•). But it wasn't easy getting to this point o! I can't even relate to how long and how hard I've been working on my accent and behaviour and all that other stuff that makes people cool.

Anyhu, I had to go fetch water from the well today so I could take a bath. Yes, a well. We do not have running water because the inhabitants of the flat that houses the switch for the pump decided they don't want to be the ones pumping water with their own electricity anymore. So, yeah. No water. Anyway, I was fetching water and I thought back to being in the village.

The family compound was fairly big, and we had a well behind as well. As part of my "training", I was constantly made to fetch water for one thing or the other, so I got quite used to it. Only problem was it was high, and I was not so tall, so I had to climb up to the top to be able to drop the bucket in and pull it out. I almost fell in too many times to remember. Have you ever fallen into a well? What do you imagine it would be like if you happened to fall in and you were stuck there for a while because no one was around to help?

We had a party once. Well, we were always having parties (burials, and weddings and such), but this was a party especially for the kids. We put a tape in the radio and had drinks and abacha and danced around while our parents and grandfather watched and cheered. I remember it was really fun. I always loved spending time with my cousins. Except they were fond of doing mean stuff. Like one time they put that sparky stick thingy in my hair. I was really upset, because my hair was really pretty. They made up for it by helping me put a stick of banga in my uncle's shoe (•^_^•)

There was a white family that lived not too far away from us. They always let me come over and play because I was albino and they probably thought I was the only one there they could relate too. Their house was huge and they had a bull. I hated the ugly thing. It chased me once, and I tripped and tore my favourite skirt. I disliked skirts even more after that. The white girl was really fun, I think. Honestly, I don't remember much about her. Her parents never let her leave the house with me though.

*sigh* On cool nights, we would go outside and sit on mats and tell stories. The tortoise stories were always my favourite. I still love them. I laugh every time I think about one. Sometimes, I try to make up one of my own. It's really fun, but then I never get really far. I miss those nights. I wish I could have more of them. Just sitting or lying under the evening sky, talking and laughing about little infantile things.

We used to play games as well. Just basic hand and feet games. Nothing like hide n seek because hiding places were limited. And we only had a few minutes between chores.

Now, I can't stand to be in my village because "I've grown up" and "I'm now a big girl.". I miss it though. Will probably go visit soon. Hopefully it's a burial. I miss burial rice.

08 May, 2012

For Your Own Protection

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:05 PM 2 comments
LOL! Sorry about yesterday's "post". Was exhausted. Won't happen again :)

I'm sure we've all encountered one or two security men that are dedicated to and passionate about their jobs. If you haven't then... I don't even know.
Once, I decided, being the amazing friend that I am, to go over to a friend's place for a friendly visit. Firstly, the dolo gave me the wrong address. He told me his house is opposite a restaurant. Toh. So, I got in a cab and told the driver to take me to the restaurant. On arrival, I found out the only thing opposite the restaurant was a fence. The idiot's number wasn't going through. So, I had to start asking around for the street address. The street wasn't even the first one after the restaurant, oh! It was the second one. And it wasn't even the first house on the street.... Please. People. How is that "opposite"?

Anyway, I got to the gate, already hot, sweating and frustrated. I knocked for almost five minutes before he decided I was important enough for him to stand up from the bench under the tree on the other side of the street for. After he had walked past me, gone into the compound, and locked the gate behind him, he finally asked "Who you wan see?". I blurted out my friend's name, and he just stared and me blankly and replied "e no dey.". And I knew the ode was inside the house. Realising the security man probably thought I was asking about my friend's dad (they have the same name), I gave him another name. He told me no one by that name lived there. I was beyond tired. I just wanted to turn around and leave. Just at that moment the mumu now called me and I told him to please come and open the gate. He later explained to me the security man was under a specific instruction I can't be bothered to recall right now.

That's one instance. There have been several others where I've been left waiting outside, under the sun, while the security man went to go call the person. In most of these cases, I'm sure they usually just went back into their little houses and never really went to call anyone. I've sat at security posts waiting for the person I went to see to come get me, and I've been denied entrance because I didn't provided a proper address in the guest register.

I just want to know if these men that are so dedicated to the safety of the people that dwell within the compound they've been hired to protect are paid more than the ones that go missing and leave the gate unmanned and even open sometimes. I mean they have to be, right? What else could they possibly be doing all that sassaprocco for? Is it really "pride in their work"? Really? Really really?

At unilag yesterday, a man I assume is a security officer almost beat up one fellow who was ironing in the engineering theatre. I couldn't stop laughing. He was so upset about it. Asking the boy how he expects to grow up to be a responsible person. Saying stuff like it's because of selfish and inconsiderate people like him that the country won't prosper. Two other guys had to go hold him back. For ironing! It was another issue when my friend went to meet him to please unlock the door because he'd forgotten his phone inside.

I'm tempted to write something about police too, but I really don't have the mental strength right now.

Thanks for showing up. (•^_^•)

07 May, 2012

Another Post

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:24 PM 2 comments
*opens curtains*

Well. I have no idea what I'm gonna write about. Kinda forgot I had to do this, and time is escaping :(

I wanna talk about a lot of stuff though. But I don't want to rush them. So, I guess this is just a I'm-putting-something-up-so-you-don't-silently-judge-me post :D

I wish we could make it a therapy session. Like, you'd tell me your problems and aches in the comments section and I would come back to address them. Unfortunately, we all know how reliable network is.

Hmm...

Okay. So, I actually really like to knit. I recently started making mufflers again. Well, I don't really knit. I crotchet. It's cooler :D

Also, I used to play basketball. And soccer. I dislike lawn tennis. And table tennis. They both suck. Massively. Volleyball is crap. I can't swim very well. I'm awesome with the javelin and shotput.

I'm a picky eater, and thus I am annoying. But I like food. I think. I definitely love chocolate. And Ribena. I tend to stick to things I'm already accustomed to. So...

*sigh* I'm tired. Good night.

06 May, 2012

Sunny In Philadelphia

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 9:16 PM 11 comments
You know how you're depressed, lonely, and everything just seems to keep going wrong for you and then someone comes along and cheers you up and makes you believe it's all gonna be ok and then goes ahead to promise he/she will always be there for you? Yeah? Well, don't believe it. It's a scam. Okay. Maybe 'scam' is too strong a word. But, seriously.

Oh! I just thought of something. Ok. Did you ever play that "bend down" game? You know, the one where every forms a circle and then start singing "yo yo yo! African bend down!". Yeah, that one. You know how you're having fun bending down for people to clap over your head? Well, until you forget to bend and then you're out of the circle and forced to watch everyone else enjoy the game. The way people feel about you is almost exactly like that. (I'm not sure if this is a good enough analogy, but I'm just gonna keep going)

You see, all this time you're hanging on to this person who seems to always know what to say when you're lost or confused. Always knows how to cheer you up when you feel down. Makes you laugh... fills your head with silly delusions of being "special". Some will even tell you they "love" you. Oh! And if someone ever says to you "I will always be here for you.", you might wanna hold your excited squeal in for a bit. I'm not saying they don't care. I'm "always" and "forever" are long shots.

One day, you'll notice things changing. You'll go from talking/chatting all day long to maybe a couple of times a day. Then a few days a week. And then you'll wonder why you haven't heard from said person in weeks. You watch from a distance as their attention falls on someone else. All your needs they seemed to care so deeply about just cast to the wind. You're back at square one. Lonely and miserable. But it's worse. Because now you have to pretend you can get along without them. It sucks. Big time. Even more when you opened up to that person more than you ever have with anyone else.

In summary, everyone leaves. Some will stay longer than others, but, in the end, they will all leave. I guess it's just an issue of enjoying what you have while it lasts. Treasure every phone call and chat and DM, because one day you'll wake up just to discover the DMs were deleted. I should probably mention it's not the brightest idea to ask said person why he/she doesn't care about you anymore. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

While we're talking about sucky things, I also got fired today. You see, when you're slaving away, hunting news down, helping people paraphrase a story so it comes off as their "original" work, and posting stories all because the person you're working for has some sort of condition, it's fine. But if you decided to take a break because you're going through a rough time, and your meds aren't really helping, then you get fired. From a job you're not getting paid for.

But that's part of life, you see? No one gives a fuck about you. But in retrospect, I guess it was my fault. I took the job "for experience" even though everyone kept telling me how it was such a bad idea. I also got excited when I was offered another job with another site. But that soon appeared to be nothing more than an incentive to keep working my butt off. You know how you put a monkey on a treadmill and dangle a bunch of bananas in front of him so he runs faster even though he isn't really going anywhere? Yeah. Like that. Worse than that, I felt guilty every time I couldn't come through because of his "condition". But, oh well ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯

So, that's all the rant I have in me for tonight. Thanks for reading.

Peace, love & Ribena (‾⌣‾)♉

05 May, 2012

Forgive and Forget

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:36 PM 3 comments
Firstly, if you haven't seen Avengers you should. You really should. As soon as possible. You know how people overhype a certain movie (*cough* hunger games) and it turns out to be crap (*cough* hunger games *cough*)? This isn't one of those times. That movie is mad yo! I might even go watch it again.

Now that that's out of the way, on to today's post. Honestly, I had a super exciting day. And then it rained. And I had to hustle to get home. I am exhausted. I was not built for this Lagos struggle. But, because I'm dedicated to you, and this challenge, and I'm watching revenge, I've decided to go ahead and write this. Forgive me if it's brief.

So. Forgive and forget. We've all heard it too many times to count. I'm not even going to bother going through the whole "Is it easy to forgive AND forget?" issue. I'm just going to share a few thoughts and then go to bed.

A while ago, a family (a single mom raising three kids on her own) was financially unstable. Like, they were really in the gutter. And then this man saunter's into the life of the mother. Well, not "saunter" exactly. More like rode in on a white horse, armour all aglitter. He  helped out financially, and provided moral support and all that. Weeks, months, a year passed, and it seemed like he wasn't going anywhere. Like he was the one that would stay.

Now, as life would have it, he went into business with the mum. They were to do a contract together and had an agreement on how the profits would be shared. The contract was executed and everyone was waiting to get paid. There was no problem when days stretched into weeks, cuz government always delays and all. But then when weeks stretched into months. Eventually, it was discovered that the guy had collected the payment a long time ago and disappeared with the money.

Needless to say, things got really horrible really fast. I won't stretch out the story by going into the whole, sad story.

Point is. If you were a child in that family, understanding what happened, knowing it would be tight getting the money to pay the next semester's fees, seeing your mother depressed and sinking into old bad habits, what would you do? Would it be so easy to "forgive and forget"?

I know forgiveness is really important if you want to completely get over something horrible that was done to you. Yeah, I do. But if you HAVE to forget to truly forgive. Then does anyone really ever forgive? Because I know a lot of people never really forget. Something almost always happen to bring the memory back.

I'm gonna go to bed now. Sweet dreams cupcakes :)

04 May, 2012

The Wedding Planner

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:00 PM 9 comments
Haven't been to a wedding in ages (over a year, to be precise), and I think I kinda lost interest in the whole thing. I used to love going before. Every wednesday service in church, they would announce the people getting married that weekend and encourage to congregation to "come out and show support". So, every saturday, I would wake up, do whatever I had to do around the house, bathe, put on a pretty dress, and sit in my sitting room patiently waiting. As soon as 12:30 reached, I'd start heading to the reception. Did this every saturday, for almost a year. The way people were just marrying, it was like people were rushing the thing.

Anyhu, a family around here where I currently reside has recently been preparing for an upcoming wedding. Cooking, buying gifts, animals, etc. Yesterday, they even fought over whether they were to cook the rice or make the soup first. It was not a small something. And then someone invited me to a wedding today, and I was super excited. Hadn't had wedding cake or wedding rice in a REALLY long time, so I was thrilled. Didn't matter to me whether I knew the couple or not. It didn't matter that year I attended all those weddings either.

After attending a wedding I wasn't invited to, and eating free food that was probably apportioned to someone else, I decided I was going to share my wedding plans with you guys tonight. I'm still unsure whether or not I will really get married, but if and when I decide to, consider this a rough draft of what you should expect.

Attendance: Let's get this straight. I want a SMALL wedding. I'm not really into the idea of people I don't know or particularly like being at my wedding. What do people need that large crowd for? Moral support? Validation? If you need either of those things from anyone (strangers especially) one your wedding day, of all days, then you probably shouldn't be getting married in the first place. It's supposed to be MY special day, innit? So, there will be 50 people at my wedding. A maximum of 80 (if my future husband is skilled at negotiation).

Date: To ensure that my wedding does not attract strays and an unnecessary crowd, it will be on a weekday. That way, only those who were invited and/or truly care will be there.

Venue: I haven't really settled on this yet. I've always thought it would be awesome to get married in a garden somewhere. But it kinda seems like everyone in Nigeria must marry inside church. Am I wrong? Cuz I would love to get married in a garden. Then it now makes me wonder which garden in Nigeria is even remotely close to the splendour of the one garden in my dreams. If the garden doesn't work out, then I guess I'd have to go with the church. A friend of mine also shared an idea I've decided to borrow. He said he'll get married in Obudu just so people won't come. I think that's a brilliant idea. Whatever keeps my wedding attendance below hundred is at the top of my list (•^_^•)

Reception: The idea of the reception is to have fun, so invited guests will be allowed to bring along a plus one. Haven't decided if the reception is gonna be the same day of the wedding or over the weekend though. I think the weekend will be better. Maybe. But then how sensible would it be? Oh well ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯

Item 12: Refreshments :D My favourite part! I love buffets, so I'm definitely gonna have mine at my reception. The walls of the building lined with tables laden with an assortment of delicacies. Food is very important to me, so rest assured there won't be a shortage at my reception. I'm not going to have people serving cuz I know how these Nigerian caterers can be. Hiding food and reducing people's rations so they can take the extra home. It's disgusting. I've fought with several of them at several weddings over this issue. Never mind that I wasn't invited in the first place.

Cake: There will be more than one cake. I got the idea from watching food network. The couple's friends designed like five different cakes for them. The cakes were positioned at different parts of the room, and they cut them all, and let the guest go round and cut slices for themselves. I want something like that. Also, there'll be mini, muffin-sized versions of the cakes packed in cute little boxes for people to take home with them.

Music: I'll most likely just get a friend to DJ. Nigerian bands annoy me, as well as Nigerian DJs. So, I'll just hook my ipod or whatever up and let the songs play from there. I have a pretty decent music collection. I've decided my first dance with my husband should be to Stranger Like Me by Phil Collins. I've always loved that song.

Dress Code: LOL! Almost forgot to talk about this. The colour scheme for my wedding will be Black & Pink. Unless, of course, I find two new favourite colours before then. I want my wedding dress to be black, and my husband's suit to be pink. I think we'll look SO adorable. I haven't decided what style of dress I want to wear, but it's definitely gonna be simple. Of people will allow me, I'll probably just wear jeans and t-shirt to the wedding sef. As for the guest, they can wear whatever they like. I don't care much for all those ankara things. It sha has to be in the colour scheme.

I think that's about it. Souvenirs and IVs and other stuff will be dependant on what's cool at the time. I feel like I'm leaving out something, but I really can't place a finger on it...

...Guess it's not important.

So, that's it. Feel free to share ideas I should probably consider, or your own little wedding plans if you're so compelled.

Pilz out (‾⌣‾)♉

03 May, 2012

The Introduction

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 8:07 PM 3 comments
So, yesterday I put up a post. Yayness! I know. Especially considering how dry this place has been.

Please understand it was not my intention to totally abandon this blog. I actually intended to keep putting up stuff here, but it just never happened (awwww). Which is why, to make you happy (of course), I have decided to come back to blogging here. :D My old new blog is now temporarily on hold. To those who were actually following the story there, I apologise. I have something uber special and amazing planned for you :D

I'm trying to get back in the swing of things, so I'm starting with the 30 Day Challenge thing. Fret not. This won't be all drab and boring like last year's own. It's just going to be a series of random posts. Whatever I can think to write about, really. As it turns out, I'm having a problem writing actual stories at the moment so :( Also, I intend to finish the challenge this year (clap for me).

So, I guess that's it. Feel free to chip in wherever you deem fit. I'm really just doing this as a distraction from the black hole of depression that is my life. :)

Yes, I realise this post should have gone up yesterday and yesterday's today. But I need you to ask yourself one thing: "Who really cares?"

02 May, 2012

If I Won The Lottery

Posted by CeceNoStockings at 10:26 PM 10 comments
Yes, I've fantasised often about winning some sort of lottery. Doesn't everyone? In these fantasies, I try to play out my reaction, but a recurring problem I face is "Who do I tell?".

I gave up on lotteries a long time ago because I never won anything. Not even those ugly face caps or oversize t-shirts they give away. I just couldn't take the heartbreak and disappointment anymore, you know? Especially because I always went above and beyond. I once bought three crates of mineral in the span of a week in an attempt to win whatever was "under the bottle cap". What are the chances of getting "TRY AGAIN" seventy-two (72) times? And then there was the time I spent almost six thousand every week on Glo airtime texting "WIN" from dawn to dusk. *sigh* Thank God those days are behind me.

Of course, I still get tempted to participate when I hear the commercials on the radio, or see ads in the newspaper, or pictures of winners accompanying the newspaper ads, and I wonder what those people did that I didn't. I adopted several coping mechanisms:

1) Pretend I don't know what's going on.
2) I convince myself the lottery is rigged.
3) I fantasize about playing and winning.

The first never works, the second has come around to bite me in the ass (my cousin won a car), and the third is why we are here today.

To properly fantasize about winning the lottery, I have to first envision myself participating fully. It's the most painful part because the memory of all my lost money haunts me still. Finally, I imagine myself winning. Now, this plays out differently for me every time because I can never quite figure out how I really want to react - get excited, play it cool/indifferent, or cuss them out for taking so much of my money - or who the first person I want to tell is. Well, yeah. The winners are usually published in the papers, or announced on the radio or whatever, but on the off chance that I'm the only one who knows about my win, who do I tell?

You'd think I'd like my family to be the first to know, yeah? LOL. Don't get me wrong, my family is awesome in its own way. But while it certainly has its charms, my family is not bereft of flaws. I've played out several scenarios in my head. The timing and outfits are different in each one, and we aren't always in the same position, but the general outline is the same - It's a hot afternoon, and I enter the house sweating, parched and giddy with excitement. My mother is in her room occupied with the game on her phone and I prance in, perfect teeth aglitter. My greeting is returned with a curt nod as she can't be bothered to look away from her phone screen, and then I blurt out that I have won the lottery. Without hesitation, she pauses the game and smiles at me. "My girl!" She says, her not-as-perfect-as-mine teeth aglitter. My sister and brother appear, seemingly out of thin air, and they proceed to share my money. I ask for a glass of water, and my mother asks why I didn't buy with my newly acquired "wealth". And then I become the family's joint bank account. Get the picture?

Telling the church first, in the name of "giving testimony", is something I'm very unlikely to do. You see, I've come to understand that running a church is a business and, like all businesses, requires financing. Which is why some end to have as many as four offerings in one service. While I'm not against giving my offering and donating when one cause/project or the other is mentioned, I don't see why I would want to go up on stage and announce to the entire church that I just won a ton of money. It's like this:
What I might say: "Praise the Lord! I won two million naira in the lottery. The Lord has been so good to me!"
What the rest of the church hears: "Prraise the Lord! I am now undertaking the financial needs of everyone in the church! The Lord has been so good to us!" And then the usual announcements won't seem so usual anymore. I'll feel like they're being directed at me, because the announcer keeps staring at me while stating how much is needed for new roofing, or the upcoming bazaar. Let's not talk about how popular I'll instantly become, people coming up to "greet" me after service and what-not.

Do I rush to my friends with the awesome news? Well, this is tricky for me, because my friends (the ones I really call my friends) are truly amazing. However, not too lang ago, I was with a friend who recently came into some wealth, and he was speaking quite frankly with me. Telling me how people approach him for a loan on a daily basis, and he feels obligated to help because "they're friends", and how getting his money back has become a problem because most of them are under the impression that there's a lot more where the money came from. He said something that made me laugh a little, but has a lot of truth in it - "Wealth is a tree everyone wants to climb, and I'm the ladder.". Now, I'm considering whether or not I want to be a ladder. Don't really fancy getting stepped on.

I may come across as being selfish or whatever, but I'm really not. I don't have a problem with lending a helping hand here and there, but I constantly try to avoid being taken advantage of. Please, I can't shout. So, in the event that I do win the lottery, I'll most likely keep the news to myself. Wouldn't you? Think about it. I'm sure you'd agree.
 

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