Good week everybody! Anyone feeling christmasy yet? Because I am. I don’t know why I’m so excited about this particular season this year given that I just had a mini fight with my Frieda – she’s not talking to me – on account of the fact that I cannot spend Christmas with her this year, our second together. Worse still, she’s at that time of the month when everything and nothing makes sense. I will not mention the word; we made a pact that I’d never mention that word when the visitor approaches and she’s feeling all hormonal at the risk of losing my life or worse still, eating burnt food! So pardon me my gentle folks but you are not coming between me and my tummy. It is interesting though, this phenomenon, I have never experienced anything like it in my life – okay maybe so, but it was in a much lesser scale then. During this period I have to cuddle, comfort, never ever EVER use a harsh word on her because she cries so easily. If any character in any movie, newspaper story, or new dumps his wife for a younger filly or cheats on her, I get the blame. If she has a nightmare where I happen to be the antagonist, I get the blame. Never mind that my face could easily change into someone else’s in the course of the accursed dream, I still get the blame. I then have to pacify her and persuade her to go back to sleep so I can make amends and right the wrong I inflicted on her in the dream. The brunt of my fury is now on my main man Tiger. The man is a tiger! My guy answer im name true true. Fifteen mistresses that we know of? Man o man! Oh, sorry babes! That was disgusting! How could he? At least if he had to let the news leak, why did he have to do it during this period? And now I’m on my way to Calabar on a working holiday, my ears are ringing with admonitions on where to eat and where not to eat. I must only eat hotel food and nowhere else. I must call from time to time to reassure her of my safety - and of her security. Why does the one I love just have to be so wonderfully complicated? What’s with me and moody women? Why can’t simple just mix with its fellow simple companion – you know, birds of the same feather? I wouldn’t have anyone else though. Like Drake’s song says “You the #%@#ing best!”
This week I have little to write about as I have been banned from writing about the work I’ll be doing in Calabar until it’s done. The company wants to keep its secrets secret and have the element of surprise over its competitors. That’s fine by me, but be assured that my tongue will run like my belly on a bad day when it is done. Instead of looking forward to the tradtional Christmas rice and chicken stew, ( that’s for wimps) I’ll be looking forward to afang, afere, ekpang nkwukwo meals in Calabar – on the hotel’s menu of course!
Do have a great Christmas everybody, and a prosperous New Year. Let’s have a fun filled and, of course, reflective holiday! Now I know why this season is exciting for me; I’m sharing it with you and would very much love to hear about yours and your plans for this season as well. Have a great week everybody and I love you all.
Showing posts with label Christmas Holiday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas Holiday. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
"Yes to Quality"
Good week everyone!
Well, I’m thinking that since we see on a weekly basis, this would be the most appropriate form of saying hello – just a thought. Anyway, this is a new week and I’m fishing in the dark trying to sift through my archive for the most appropriate bits to throw out to the light.
Last year was a mixed bag of memories, predominantly those of the not so nostalgic kind (I plan on sharing them with you in the future). I began the year with a view to expanding my horizons following an inadvertent incident with my mother. I’ll explain…
I had, on request by my mum, taken some of the movies I had done to the UK for her and my siblings to watch.( I sort of have this long drawn habit of not letting any one of my family members or friends into what I do in my everyday work. It’s probably to shield them from my everyday job, or just nervous that they might begin to see me in a different light than before.) Anyway this particular year, my mum insisted that I bring some of my movies along for Christmas and I obliged.
On Christmas day, stuffed to bursting point with food and drink, we staggered to the living room where I slotted in one of my movies and we all sat down to watch. As the movie progressed I noticed everyone was engrossed in the movie and apart from the occasional jibes from my brothers about my mannerisms- which my mum had scolded me about in my younger days- they seemed to enjoy it. And then the time came to change the disk. My mum looked at me nonplussed and asked if that was the end of the movie to which I hastily assured her that it was only the A disk of part one that had run out and I would put the B. Everyone relaxed as I smacked Iyke, the baby of the family, on the back of the head to go and change the disk.
We managed to get through the B part of disk one onto the part two disk A where the movie got to the romantic part. For some inexplicable reason in the moments just leading to the kiss between my character and his love interest, I found myself in the bathroom upstairs staring in the mirror and listening to the roaring guffaws of my brothers downstairs. “How is it possible?” I asked myself, “That a grown man like me cannot bear the thought of my mum watching me kiss a woman!”
My mother is a formidable woman of the gentlest variety. When colleagues at work took her messages for me, they always teased me about my ‘cradle snatched girlfriend’ and when I told them who it was they wouldn’t believe me because my mum does sound like a 16 year old girl. She is also a very quiet unassuming lady who minds her own business but fights like a tigress when her territory is threatened. I know so because I vividly remember my frustration when at age 17, she turned girls who came to ‘return’ notebooks back ever so rudely at the door, accusing them of trying to despoil her son.
I remember when in my final year in university, Ebele, my then girlfriend, came to visit me at home – I lived in the B/Q (Boys’ Quarters) for understandable reasons- and I went to the main house to get us lunch. My mum, with an averted gaze, while dishing the food said, “I know you’re no longer a virgin…” at which point she paused, the ladle of food hanging midway between pot and plate. “No I’m not mum” I replied trying to muster the driest tone I could that would brook no scolding. A sigh and then a very terse, “but I hope you know what you’re doing with that girl! You haven’t finished school yet” as she attacked the plate with an intensity that wasn’t there before.
Here I am, in the bathroom, many years after, still squirming at the thought of being caught “pants down” by momsie. What would happen if, when married, my wife and I spend a weekend at hers, christen the guest room every night and morning- hopefully be loud enough to distract her from her knitting or even perhaps, her gardening!- and we come down for a very late breakfast with a smug smile on my face., what then? Hmm, that’s a thought. Anyway, I digress…
When I went downstairs the kissing scene was over and, amidst my brothers’ teases and mum’s shy laughter, we settled down to watch the movie. Alas the disk came to an abrupt end at a dagger point to everyone’s consternation especially my mum’s. “Is there another disk we have to go through to get to the end?” she asked, exasperated. I assured them that B was the final disk they’d have to endure silently thanking God for not letting me bring movies with parts 1, 2 and 3. Granted, they enjoyed the movie, but I felt it would have been a lot more enjoyable if it wasn’t so frequently interrupted. At that moment, I made a resolve not to do movies that would irritate, exasperate or bore my mum or many like her. I decided to give people who watch my movies something they deserve – more bang for their buck.
With the decision to say “yes to quality” another story ensued but I’ll save that for another week. You see, at times I think we sell ourselves short too often and fail to see the lofty heights we can attain if we’d only believe in ourselves. If we say yes to ourselves, the whole world says yes with us. Hope everyone had a wonderful Easter holiday and looking forward to hooking up with you next week!
Well, I’m thinking that since we see on a weekly basis, this would be the most appropriate form of saying hello – just a thought. Anyway, this is a new week and I’m fishing in the dark trying to sift through my archive for the most appropriate bits to throw out to the light.
Last year was a mixed bag of memories, predominantly those of the not so nostalgic kind (I plan on sharing them with you in the future). I began the year with a view to expanding my horizons following an inadvertent incident with my mother. I’ll explain…
I had, on request by my mum, taken some of the movies I had done to the UK for her and my siblings to watch.( I sort of have this long drawn habit of not letting any one of my family members or friends into what I do in my everyday work. It’s probably to shield them from my everyday job, or just nervous that they might begin to see me in a different light than before.) Anyway this particular year, my mum insisted that I bring some of my movies along for Christmas and I obliged.
On Christmas day, stuffed to bursting point with food and drink, we staggered to the living room where I slotted in one of my movies and we all sat down to watch. As the movie progressed I noticed everyone was engrossed in the movie and apart from the occasional jibes from my brothers about my mannerisms- which my mum had scolded me about in my younger days- they seemed to enjoy it. And then the time came to change the disk. My mum looked at me nonplussed and asked if that was the end of the movie to which I hastily assured her that it was only the A disk of part one that had run out and I would put the B. Everyone relaxed as I smacked Iyke, the baby of the family, on the back of the head to go and change the disk.
We managed to get through the B part of disk one onto the part two disk A where the movie got to the romantic part. For some inexplicable reason in the moments just leading to the kiss between my character and his love interest, I found myself in the bathroom upstairs staring in the mirror and listening to the roaring guffaws of my brothers downstairs. “How is it possible?” I asked myself, “That a grown man like me cannot bear the thought of my mum watching me kiss a woman!”
My mother is a formidable woman of the gentlest variety. When colleagues at work took her messages for me, they always teased me about my ‘cradle snatched girlfriend’ and when I told them who it was they wouldn’t believe me because my mum does sound like a 16 year old girl. She is also a very quiet unassuming lady who minds her own business but fights like a tigress when her territory is threatened. I know so because I vividly remember my frustration when at age 17, she turned girls who came to ‘return’ notebooks back ever so rudely at the door, accusing them of trying to despoil her son.
I remember when in my final year in university, Ebele, my then girlfriend, came to visit me at home – I lived in the B/Q (Boys’ Quarters) for understandable reasons- and I went to the main house to get us lunch. My mum, with an averted gaze, while dishing the food said, “I know you’re no longer a virgin…” at which point she paused, the ladle of food hanging midway between pot and plate. “No I’m not mum” I replied trying to muster the driest tone I could that would brook no scolding. A sigh and then a very terse, “but I hope you know what you’re doing with that girl! You haven’t finished school yet” as she attacked the plate with an intensity that wasn’t there before.
Here I am, in the bathroom, many years after, still squirming at the thought of being caught “pants down” by momsie. What would happen if, when married, my wife and I spend a weekend at hers, christen the guest room every night and morning- hopefully be loud enough to distract her from her knitting or even perhaps, her gardening!- and we come down for a very late breakfast with a smug smile on my face., what then? Hmm, that’s a thought. Anyway, I digress…
When I went downstairs the kissing scene was over and, amidst my brothers’ teases and mum’s shy laughter, we settled down to watch the movie. Alas the disk came to an abrupt end at a dagger point to everyone’s consternation especially my mum’s. “Is there another disk we have to go through to get to the end?” she asked, exasperated. I assured them that B was the final disk they’d have to endure silently thanking God for not letting me bring movies with parts 1, 2 and 3. Granted, they enjoyed the movie, but I felt it would have been a lot more enjoyable if it wasn’t so frequently interrupted. At that moment, I made a resolve not to do movies that would irritate, exasperate or bore my mum or many like her. I decided to give people who watch my movies something they deserve – more bang for their buck.
With the decision to say “yes to quality” another story ensued but I’ll save that for another week. You see, at times I think we sell ourselves short too often and fail to see the lofty heights we can attain if we’d only believe in ourselves. If we say yes to ourselves, the whole world says yes with us. Hope everyone had a wonderful Easter holiday and looking forward to hooking up with you next week!
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