I was tagged by Chanz (thanks). I am supposed to tell you my beloved readers 10 things about myself. 10 honest things actually. I just want you to know that there is a difference between “I am” and “I can be”. So please bear that in mind.
Here goes
1. I am not particularly a very patient person. I can be sometimes when it is really important that I should be especially with the people I care about. I am a bottom line kind of person. Don’t beat about the bush. Tell me what I need to hear. Tell me what is important and very fast too if you don’t want me to get really pissed.
2. I am not a materialistic woman. Don’t get me wrong. I love every good thing that money can buy. I have dreams of wearing priceless gems to parties organized by The Billionaire club (does that exist?) which my man happens to be the president of (I told you it was a dream and babe, I am a huge dreamer). All I am saying is that you don’t have to have tons of money to impress me. Honesty, consistency and loyalty earn you huge marks with me. I am not going to stop being your friend because I realized you couldn’t get me a Louis Vuitton bag. I will not sell my soul for a diamond bracelet. I will be with anyone that makes me happy and fulfilled even if he doesn’t have a lot.
3. I can be a tad too clean. I might remind you of Bree Van de Kamp of Desperate Housewives. I do drive everyone crazy sometimes. “Don’t drop the cup there!” “Pick up that bottle cap!” ‘That shirt is dirty. Do your laundry!” So my hands are always doing something. Washing dishes, cleaning, sweeping etc.
4. I am a hopeless romantic. I love ‘And they lived happily forever after’ stories. I love roses and wine. I love candle lit dinners. I love dancing with a special someone to good soul music. A hopeless romantic I said.
5. I am a shy person. I get uneasy when people stare at me even when I know that they didn’t mean to be rude. To walk into a room filled with people can be very difficult for me.
6. I am a book worm. I love reading and studying. I love the smell of books. I must have read a million novels. I am always reading a book. Always.
7. I am a realist. I would like to believe that there is a good side to everything and would like they say, look on the bright side but I believe in embracing reality. So I love to be told the truth about every situation that I find myself in. I believe in seeing things the way they really are and then try to be optimistic.
8. I am passionate about the issues of the female gender. They call it feminism. I believe in empowering women through education. I believe women deserve to be treated with respect. I believe that crimes against women like rape and forced early marriage are crimes against humanity.
9. I can be funny. I have a sense of humor that is as sarcastic as it is witty. If I am in a good mood, then prepare to laugh till your ribs ache.
10. I am an emotional person. I take things way too personal sometimes and end up hurting myself more. But a good cry mends all that is broken.
That is the truth and nothing but the truth. Now you know some things about me.
I am tagging the following people.
SEXY LEGS AND BODY!
BeyondBreathingBlog
Carma Sez
FemmeFare
Gently Said
How Could You Not?!
Le Dynamique Professeur
Life, Love, and Wine
Noe Noe Girl.
Picture Imperfect
Be good people!
Lily Johnson
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
So so sorry!
Hello my dear friends,
I hope you people have been okay. I have been away for this long because of bad internet connection. I also had to travel a little. I am so grateful that i wasn't 'unfollowed' or something. All of you are amazing.
Thank you guys.
I am back and i pray i wouldn't have to be away for too long again because i did miss reading your posts and comments.
I hope you people have been okay. I have been away for this long because of bad internet connection. I also had to travel a little. I am so grateful that i wasn't 'unfollowed' or something. All of you are amazing.
Thank you guys.
I am back and i pray i wouldn't have to be away for too long again because i did miss reading your posts and comments.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Your very own love cards
I just want to share this simple Valentine’s day idea of mine. By now you must know that you have to look really good and smell good too.
So you have to get a fine dress for the evening making sure it suits your body type yet flatters your best assets. Give the LBD a break and go for some color.
I love perfumes and we all know that a good one often gets us what we want with who we want. Dab on something sexy but mysterious. Or any one that works for you.
Make up should be carefully applied. Just do your thing; smoky eyes, red luscious lips. Just ‘wow’ him.
Now, my idea. It is simple and it is what Valentine’s day is all about. The word ‘love’
Three beautiful little white cards
Three languages
Three different locations
One sentence.
Write the words “I love you” in three different languages in each card and put them in three places you are sure he would find them.
I would write: (without the words in the bracket)
Ahuru m gi n’anya (Language of the Ibo tribe of Nigeria)
Je t’aime (one of the few sentences I can say in French)
I love you
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Simple isn’t it? Yes I know.
And if you are currently single and loving it, put the little white cards where you would find them. After all, loving yourself is the greatest love of all.
But I am sure that there is someone in your life that deserves these white cards and all the love you can give.
Have fun people!
Thanks to Zazzle.com for the pic.
Lily Johnson.
So you have to get a fine dress for the evening making sure it suits your body type yet flatters your best assets. Give the LBD a break and go for some color.
I love perfumes and we all know that a good one often gets us what we want with who we want. Dab on something sexy but mysterious. Or any one that works for you.
Make up should be carefully applied. Just do your thing; smoky eyes, red luscious lips. Just ‘wow’ him.
Now, my idea. It is simple and it is what Valentine’s day is all about. The word ‘love’
Three beautiful little white cards
Three languages
Three different locations
One sentence.
Write the words “I love you” in three different languages in each card and put them in three places you are sure he would find them.
I would write: (without the words in the bracket)
Ahuru m gi n’anya (Language of the Ibo tribe of Nigeria)
Je t’aime (one of the few sentences I can say in French)
I love you
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Simple isn’t it? Yes I know.
And if you are currently single and loving it, put the little white cards where you would find them. After all, loving yourself is the greatest love of all.
But I am sure that there is someone in your life that deserves these white cards and all the love you can give.
Have fun people!
Thanks to Zazzle.com for the pic.
Lily Johnson.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The old lady and the pen
My heart burned and my soul scorched.
The tears running down my cheeks scalded.
Maybe I was losing it because I felt so numb.
Like I am sinking and soon going to drown.
Drown in the river of my own tears.
Burn in the fire of my own fears.
Young woman…..old lady…..
Write! Write!
Pour your heart out, liberate your soul.
Don’t stop till the ink bottle is dry.
Don’t look up until your heart stops crying “Why?”
Young woman….old lady…..
Write! Write! Write!
I found this poem that I wrote some years back while looking through my old notes. I must have been under a lot of emotional stress when I wrote it. I tried hard to recollect why I wrote such a sad poem and why at that young age, I was referring to myself as ‘old lady’.
Trust me I don’t look or feel old at all but sometimes, I do feel that there is something ancient about me. Something that only I should be able to explain but I … can’t. (My late grand mother did believe that I was her dead mother reincarnated. That makes me over 200 years old in her books. And I am this hot?)
Writing means a lot to me and does a lot for me. Though I take great pride in the fact that I can express myself verbally, I know that I can express myself only better with a pen and a paper.
Writing is my escape from whatever chooses to bother me at any point in time. You would think that I keep a diary right? Well, no I don’t. I write stories. Mostly short stories and flash fiction. My story ideas mostly ‘come’ to me in my intense moments. It could be when I am very happy or very sad. I just take my pen and scribble away until my heart stops pounding wildly.
Yes, the pen is indeed mightier than the sword. I understand this famous saying this way. Instead of moving in to throw a punch at an offender, pick up a pen and write yourself a story about the offender and yourself the super hero who kicked his ass for being a menace to the world. We all love super hero stories. (Tip: Make the costume sexy yet indestructible).
Yeah, and walk away before you are tempted to act out the script.
Have fun people and keep your pen close.
Lily Johnson.
The tears running down my cheeks scalded.
Maybe I was losing it because I felt so numb.
Like I am sinking and soon going to drown.
Drown in the river of my own tears.
Burn in the fire of my own fears.
Young woman…..old lady…..
Write! Write!
Pour your heart out, liberate your soul.
Don’t stop till the ink bottle is dry.
Don’t look up until your heart stops crying “Why?”
Young woman….old lady…..
Write! Write! Write!
I found this poem that I wrote some years back while looking through my old notes. I must have been under a lot of emotional stress when I wrote it. I tried hard to recollect why I wrote such a sad poem and why at that young age, I was referring to myself as ‘old lady’.
Trust me I don’t look or feel old at all but sometimes, I do feel that there is something ancient about me. Something that only I should be able to explain but I … can’t. (My late grand mother did believe that I was her dead mother reincarnated. That makes me over 200 years old in her books. And I am this hot?)
Writing means a lot to me and does a lot for me. Though I take great pride in the fact that I can express myself verbally, I know that I can express myself only better with a pen and a paper.
Writing is my escape from whatever chooses to bother me at any point in time. You would think that I keep a diary right? Well, no I don’t. I write stories. Mostly short stories and flash fiction. My story ideas mostly ‘come’ to me in my intense moments. It could be when I am very happy or very sad. I just take my pen and scribble away until my heart stops pounding wildly.
Yes, the pen is indeed mightier than the sword. I understand this famous saying this way. Instead of moving in to throw a punch at an offender, pick up a pen and write yourself a story about the offender and yourself the super hero who kicked his ass for being a menace to the world. We all love super hero stories. (Tip: Make the costume sexy yet indestructible).
Yeah, and walk away before you are tempted to act out the script.
Have fun people and keep your pen close.
Lily Johnson.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Strange connection
This is the sequel to ‘Perfect Stranger’. You can go to my older posts and read it to understand this one. I intend to publish a collection of short stories so I really need to know what you guys think about the stories I publish here.
The prophet looked at me with hooded eyes as he closed his holy book. It didn’t look like anyone I knew. Not like the Holy Bible or the Holy Quran. Its shape was odd too.
The elderly man smiled at me sympathetically. The kind of smile a doctor gives a dying patient.
“You have the same problem as many young and beautiful African women. A spiritual husband.” He said “husband” with more than a little emphasis.
“The man didn’t say he was my husband,” I said stiffly. “He only said he….”
“Lisa!” My friend in deed and spiritual matters Ella put her palm on my mouth. She smiled and muttered apologies to the prophet who nodded without taking his eyes off me.
Oh please! The small room was hot and smelt strongly of incense and aromatic oils. I was beginning to get dizzy and sick and I wanted out. So the last thing I wanted was a grey haired and oily man who claimed to be a prophet giving me a look that seemed to say “I am helping you. You foolish child.” Please!
Ella was looking at me strangely too. But hers seemed to me like it said “Lisa, I hope your big mouth won’t get us into trouble one day. Let’s hope this man won’t cast a spell on us. How dare you interrupt prophet Zima?”
Ella had been my best friend for ages. We both don’t remember exactly how we had met but we didn’t exactly care either. What we knew for sure that kept us together was the love for music and art and the will to succeed in a man’s world. We didn’t hesitate to tell any man that the world itself was a woman. We were like twins, sisters and friends. We loved each other and would do anything for each other.
Ella was a ‘special person’. That was her substitute word for ‘superstitious’. I am very sure my great great grand mother who had believed that hitting her left foot against a stone while walking (she was partially blind though) meant something bad was going to happen to her, would have marveled at my friend superstitious beliefs. She had taken me to various places for reasons one would wonder at. I cut my finger while peeling yam, I saw a long lost pal, I saw and talked to a man I admired….the list was endless. Ella would take me from one eerie place to another.
"This is Africa Lisa," she would say. You are an African. Forget your light skin. Here, a blink of an eye means something.
So when I told my dear friend about the dream I had two nights before, she was alarmed and called the prophet on his mobile phone. (I found it surprising that the ancient one had this rather sophisticated piece of technology. I had expected that Ella would make a bonfire at the backyard to give him a smoke signal).
The prophet cleared his throat. “Like I said before, many young African women have the problem of having relationships with men of the spirit world. Many don’t even know that they are already mothers of spirit children. They don’t even have strange dreams. Consider yourself lucky my child. A problem discovered is a problem half solved.”
Lisa nodded approvingly. I felt like hitting her.
“So what can I do to solve this problem?” I asked.
“What can you do for us prophet? This is a very bad thing,” Ella added.
The old man smiled at Ella. “You have shown that you are wiser than your worldly friend. You are blessed my child.”
What! Then why was she always broke? Give me a break.
The man looked at me. “You will need to do some sacrifices child. That is the only way out. The things needed for this sacrifice are eight yards of white cloth, eight tubers of yam, eight eggs of a local fowl that is only eight hours old, eight pieces of white native chalk, eight calabashes that have never been touched and the eight front teeth of an eight month old mamba.”
Ella and I jumped. We had been to places. Places stranger than this place. We had met men older than this man but none of them had given us such a long list that included the front teeth of one of the deadliest animals in the world. We just sat there and stared at him.
“My children,” the man cleared his throat. “You see the problem with spiritual marital relationship is a serious one. The unfortunate man or woman may not get married or even if he or she does, may not have a child. These spirit beings are extremely jealous. They do all they can to frustrate their supposed spouses. They don’t allow the person to progress on earth. There are stories of people who went mad and those who died of strange ailments. Some herbalists don’t know how to go about it. Some pastors and preachers jump around and push down the person and the dreams stop. That doesn’t mean that the person is totally free. It is a difficult task to sever the relationship forever.”
Ella ‘the wise one’ was the first to speak. “Prophet, we can’t get some of the things in the list especially the front teeth of a mamba. How can you help us?”
I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t imagine myself walking the streets an insane woman or dying alone because the disease was worse than AIDS.
The man wrinkled his forehead. He was in deep thought for some minutes and suddenly clapped his hands. The sound was thunderous.
“I will help you get all the items for a given price. That is apart from the charges for the work I am going to do.”
“What would the total cost be?” I had to have some say in it. It was my problem after all.
“Seventy thousand Naira would do.”
Ella and I stared at the man like he had just materialized from the wall at his back. We were beyond being surprised. Telling us to bring seventy thousand naira for anything was like telling us to bring our very own umbilical cord.
Strange connection
The elderly man smiled at me sympathetically. The kind of smile a doctor gives a dying patient.
“You have the same problem as many young and beautiful African women. A spiritual husband.” He said “husband” with more than a little emphasis.
“The man didn’t say he was my husband,” I said stiffly. “He only said he….”
“Lisa!” My friend in deed and spiritual matters Ella put her palm on my mouth. She smiled and muttered apologies to the prophet who nodded without taking his eyes off me.
Oh please! The small room was hot and smelt strongly of incense and aromatic oils. I was beginning to get dizzy and sick and I wanted out. So the last thing I wanted was a grey haired and oily man who claimed to be a prophet giving me a look that seemed to say “I am helping you. You foolish child.” Please!
Ella was looking at me strangely too. But hers seemed to me like it said “Lisa, I hope your big mouth won’t get us into trouble one day. Let’s hope this man won’t cast a spell on us. How dare you interrupt prophet Zima?”
Ella had been my best friend for ages. We both don’t remember exactly how we had met but we didn’t exactly care either. What we knew for sure that kept us together was the love for music and art and the will to succeed in a man’s world. We didn’t hesitate to tell any man that the world itself was a woman. We were like twins, sisters and friends. We loved each other and would do anything for each other.
Ella was a ‘special person’. That was her substitute word for ‘superstitious’. I am very sure my great great grand mother who had believed that hitting her left foot against a stone while walking (she was partially blind though) meant something bad was going to happen to her, would have marveled at my friend superstitious beliefs. She had taken me to various places for reasons one would wonder at. I cut my finger while peeling yam, I saw a long lost pal, I saw and talked to a man I admired….the list was endless. Ella would take me from one eerie place to another.
"This is Africa Lisa," she would say. You are an African. Forget your light skin. Here, a blink of an eye means something.
So when I told my dear friend about the dream I had two nights before, she was alarmed and called the prophet on his mobile phone. (I found it surprising that the ancient one had this rather sophisticated piece of technology. I had expected that Ella would make a bonfire at the backyard to give him a smoke signal).
The prophet cleared his throat. “Like I said before, many young African women have the problem of having relationships with men of the spirit world. Many don’t even know that they are already mothers of spirit children. They don’t even have strange dreams. Consider yourself lucky my child. A problem discovered is a problem half solved.”
Lisa nodded approvingly. I felt like hitting her.
“So what can I do to solve this problem?” I asked.
“What can you do for us prophet? This is a very bad thing,” Ella added.
The old man smiled at Ella. “You have shown that you are wiser than your worldly friend. You are blessed my child.”
What! Then why was she always broke? Give me a break.
The man looked at me. “You will need to do some sacrifices child. That is the only way out. The things needed for this sacrifice are eight yards of white cloth, eight tubers of yam, eight eggs of a local fowl that is only eight hours old, eight pieces of white native chalk, eight calabashes that have never been touched and the eight front teeth of an eight month old mamba.”
Ella and I jumped. We had been to places. Places stranger than this place. We had met men older than this man but none of them had given us such a long list that included the front teeth of one of the deadliest animals in the world. We just sat there and stared at him.
“My children,” the man cleared his throat. “You see the problem with spiritual marital relationship is a serious one. The unfortunate man or woman may not get married or even if he or she does, may not have a child. These spirit beings are extremely jealous. They do all they can to frustrate their supposed spouses. They don’t allow the person to progress on earth. There are stories of people who went mad and those who died of strange ailments. Some herbalists don’t know how to go about it. Some pastors and preachers jump around and push down the person and the dreams stop. That doesn’t mean that the person is totally free. It is a difficult task to sever the relationship forever.”
Ella ‘the wise one’ was the first to speak. “Prophet, we can’t get some of the things in the list especially the front teeth of a mamba. How can you help us?”
I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t imagine myself walking the streets an insane woman or dying alone because the disease was worse than AIDS.
The man wrinkled his forehead. He was in deep thought for some minutes and suddenly clapped his hands. The sound was thunderous.
“I will help you get all the items for a given price. That is apart from the charges for the work I am going to do.”
“What would the total cost be?” I had to have some say in it. It was my problem after all.
“Seventy thousand Naira would do.”
Ella and I stared at the man like he had just materialized from the wall at his back. We were beyond being surprised. Telling us to bring seventy thousand naira for anything was like telling us to bring our very own umbilical cord.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Happy, happy!!
I was tagged by Colin (sexy legs and body) and I am required to say 10 things that make me happy. I also have to tag 10 people too.
Well, here goes.
1. Firstly, I want to say that I am happy infact ecstatic that I was lucky to have been born by the most amazing woman on earth. My mother is the most caring, loving and supportive person I know. She is a powerhouse! Running the family business with my dad and still taking care of five children. She has been doing that since she turned twenty. Being with my mum makes me happy.
2. I am happy that I am a Christian. My mother taught us how to pray at a very tender age. I love Jesus and I am grateful He died for our sins.
3. I am happy that I am a woman. When I look in the mirror, I love what I see. The face, the boobs, the hips, the ass. Yep! I love that.
4. I am happy that I have a wonderful family and friends who love me. Things get rough sometimes but we are good. Talking, laughing and even bickering with my family makes me happy.
5. Writing makes me happy. I discovered that I could write stories when I was nine. This is not one of those not-so-true stories you hear about some writers trying to make an impression. I began to write short stories for my classmates to read at that age. They all thought I was quite talented. I had the dream of being published by a popular and very successful magazine in my country. I even designed the book I wrote my stories in like the magazine. Several years later, my stories were published by that magazine. I remember dancing wildly when I got my first pay check from the publishers.
6. Listening to good soul or Jazz music makes me happy. Being a song writer myself, I appreciate good music.
7. Being able to work and earn my own money makes me happy . I love making my own money and doing things that I love.
8. Shopping makes me happy. Walking around in a clothes store with some money in my purse and picking clothes I would look fabulous in makes me a happy woman
9. Being able to help someone in need makes me happy. Even if all i need to do is to talk to or counsel the person. It gives me joy
10. Blogging makes me happy. It gave me the opportunity to meet a wonderful person like you.
And the ten people I am passing it to are:
BeyondBreathingBlog
The Lilac Grove
Dani's Letters
f8hasit
Picture Imperfect
From the Inside...Out
I Shoulda Been a Stripper
Lets have a cocktail...
Life, Love, and Wine
The life and loves of the bubble bath queen
Cheers!
Lily Johnson.
Well, here goes.
1. Firstly, I want to say that I am happy infact ecstatic that I was lucky to have been born by the most amazing woman on earth. My mother is the most caring, loving and supportive person I know. She is a powerhouse! Running the family business with my dad and still taking care of five children. She has been doing that since she turned twenty. Being with my mum makes me happy.
2. I am happy that I am a Christian. My mother taught us how to pray at a very tender age. I love Jesus and I am grateful He died for our sins.
3. I am happy that I am a woman. When I look in the mirror, I love what I see. The face, the boobs, the hips, the ass. Yep! I love that.
4. I am happy that I have a wonderful family and friends who love me. Things get rough sometimes but we are good. Talking, laughing and even bickering with my family makes me happy.
5. Writing makes me happy. I discovered that I could write stories when I was nine. This is not one of those not-so-true stories you hear about some writers trying to make an impression. I began to write short stories for my classmates to read at that age. They all thought I was quite talented. I had the dream of being published by a popular and very successful magazine in my country. I even designed the book I wrote my stories in like the magazine. Several years later, my stories were published by that magazine. I remember dancing wildly when I got my first pay check from the publishers.
6. Listening to good soul or Jazz music makes me happy. Being a song writer myself, I appreciate good music.
7. Being able to work and earn my own money makes me happy . I love making my own money and doing things that I love.
8. Shopping makes me happy. Walking around in a clothes store with some money in my purse and picking clothes I would look fabulous in makes me a happy woman
9. Being able to help someone in need makes me happy. Even if all i need to do is to talk to or counsel the person. It gives me joy
10. Blogging makes me happy. It gave me the opportunity to meet a wonderful person like you.
And the ten people I am passing it to are:
BeyondBreathingBlog
The Lilac Grove
Dani's Letters
f8hasit
Picture Imperfect
From the Inside...Out
I Shoulda Been a Stripper
Lets have a cocktail...
Life, Love, and Wine
The life and loves of the bubble bath queen
Cheers!
Lily Johnson.
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