All in a Week...

What do i blog about today?
Should i write another Memoir from my childhood?
Should i make it random?
Should it be about things that happened recently? Ok let's try...i'll keep typing, you'll get a post, whichever thoughts my hyper active mind decide are dominant at the moment...then we will give it a title...deal! You don't have an option not to deal. lol

BobTV film festival took place here in Abuja this last week and i attended at the Sheraton hotel. I was particularly interested in a class on Story writing. I got there first day and i didn't know it was such an organised event. There were ushers in red checking out tags and asking people to come register. My friend; a screen writer who omitted details had omitted the fact that i would have to register with five grand. I didn't have that much cash, i try not to carry cash on me cos i just end up spending what i don't need. Thankfully i had my ATM card, i got to the machines and in the whole of Sheraton, not one machince carried cash. That pissed me off.

My friend was blogging the event so i waited for him outside, i got a number of hellos from random guys who were also attending the festival and i tried to wear my nice cap. Several minutes later i was still waiting and one of the guys who had said hello earlier walked up to me.

Random guy: Hi, you're still outside?

*alarm bells go off in my head* i'm thinking obviously...would you see me outside if i wasn't outside? I humour him and instead i say

Me: 'yes'

Random guy: You must be a student. What school are you from?

For crying out loud, i tried my best to look a bit responsible. Not my usual top and jeans, i was wearing a nice indian top with jeans. How exactly do i look like a student? Once again i humour him

Me: No, i'm a writer

Random guy: What newspaper do you write for?

Oh my God! This guy is so mumu! Does every writer write for a newspaper? Dude still lives in the dark ages

Me: No i am a freelance writer. I write for screen, i write fiction....(i'm tired, i don't owe him an explanation)

Random guy: *takes a look at me from head to toe* But you're also a student?

Now i'm really annoyed, did i not just tell this dude that i'm not a student? I suppose to him i looked to young or small to be anything else? I wonder if he was trying to hit on me or not but for crying out loud, i wear two rings on my wedding finger...maybe most guys think they're a joke! Who knows?

Me: Do you know how many years ago i graduated?

I walk off and hear him say after me, has it really been that long then? Dude, yes it's been a while, almost 7 and it would have been more, no thanks to the strikes when i was in Uni.

Cabbage diet
I decided to do the cabbage diet for a week as African weight loss diva recommended. It's supposed to help lose 4kg in a week. I desire to weigh less than 65kg, i now weigh between 67 and 68kg and i thought, why not take a short cut? Cabbage gave me so much gas, i gave up the diet after three days and concluded...a lifestyle change is better than a quick fix programme. Lesson learnt the hard way, i still have some of the gas and i'm hardly able to eat. Hubby laughed at me so hard and he said...'i know we don't say i told you so, but if there was a worst line right now, i should use it...' I eyed him, i should have thrown a pillow at him..lol

I have a confession to make, i haven't gone jogging in a month! A whole month...i'm now thinking of exercising in a structured manner, like maybe register in a gym here, used to go to one in Lagos. Or maybe swim on particular days during the week and have a set number of laps...still thinking about it...your thoughts are welcome

I'm writing a screenplay, still putting the story together and now my characters are creeping into my sleep, help!

I took an afternoon nap, and dreamt that Simeone did a post, wanting to know about something personal, i'm not telling exactly what but i'm wondering ok, why is Simeone creeping into my dream? Whatever thoughts you're entertaining about me dude, time to spill..lol..Blogville, you sometimes gives me the creeps!

Ok, peace out! off to watch rubbish tv with Mr and enjoy some laughter together.

Back to the Treadmill

Earlier in the year, i made a resolve to join a gym and go thrice a week, i had moved from a size 8 to a 10 and didn't want to go any further than that, some flabs were beginning to appear in the wrong places..i had to keep in shape so i registered, even got hubby to go with me a few times, trust me that was a huge achievement, lol. This was about the time i left my job so i had no reason not to go, i started out with a lot of enthusiasm, i loved working out so much i would never drop out!
My gym instructor was very impressed with me, i was very consistent and even lost 2kg, dropping from 65 to 63 kg in less than two weeks, i was happy with my achievement, my target was to go back to 60kg and stay there and keep fit..then i started a training program and it became hard to go to the gym although i finished in the early afternoons. I had sound excuses not to go and workout.
For a while, i maintained a lazy routine at home and kept promising myself i would go to the gym tomorrow or the day after, good thing is tomorrow never ends...se, all you procrastinators (i have a right to form my own English words seeing that Soyinka is one of my mentors) in the house, please nod your heads with me!
Then i got an assignment somewhere on the Island and stayed out till like 7pm most days..there went my gym resolve, out of the window! No more gym, it was a nice plan, it just wasn't convenient anymore, being busy helped my wwight remain constant but i had reneged on my resolve even on weekends...then gradually i let go of my routine at home and i was no longer exercising...i was back to my 65kg!
A few days ago, here i am months after leaving my last assignment and working from home, i took a look at my tummy and i didn't really like what i saw, looked like the onset of a bump, now that would be fantastic if i was pregnant but as my normal tummy, it's not really allowed so i started doing sit ups at home and hubby laughed at me asking me what happened to my plans to go to the gym. He reminded me of how he complimented me when i was going religiously and how i looked trim. I felt bad and took it as a challenge and i took the car keys, put on my trainers and off i went to they gym.
I hope i can keep it up...will maybe give you the details of the gym escapades later, though nothing interesting really there except for miss i'm sexy, i wear make up to the gym and i call the instructor every two minutes!
How many times have we started out on something that seems to be a very good plan, starting with a lot of zeal and passion and then weeks or months down the line, we get tired, or we meet some obstacles and we throw in the towel. Good intentions are never enough, what you do with the good intentions or what you keep doing with the good intentions is what matters. I'l throw this question to you, what will you do with what you know to do in the face of contrary circumstances? Would you just let go of your belief or would you press on and consistently do what you believe?

Anyway, enough about my gyming experience and philosophising...i'm working on a short story and want to give you guys a sneak peek into it, let's title it Escape...
Curtains open..reveal characters...

ESCAPE
I woke up to plan my escape from a prison, not a typical kind of jail but a prison all the same. My husband or whoever he is to me went on a music tour and didn’t take me along. He is a musician, and I joined him as a back up singer out of admiration. He took a special liking to me out of all his singers and I felt privileged. I was too naive to differentiate between love and lust or the desire of a man to acquire a woman as his personal belonging.
I come from a very conservative home. My father was a director in the civil service while my mother was a primary school teacher. They had great plans for me; I was going to the higher institution to study Economics or Accounting after which I would graduate and do them proud.
Ola came to Ilu tuntun, the small city where we lived, on a performance tour and the organisation that brought him to our city called for auditions of young talents. He had given them the mandate to do so. I went to audition without my parents’ knowledge. I was only seventeen but I was wiser than my parents or so I thought. I knew if they found out, they would be disappointed that I did not mention it to them but I was also sure that they would frown at the idea. I registered for the audition and began preparing myself for my debut performance. I had a dress I wanted to wear in mind; the one that mother bought for me last Christmas. Everyone complimented me when I wore it and all the young boys around my area wanted to court me.
I would lock the door, dress up, and sing in front of the mirror, trying to imitate the artists I so much admired and watched on the TV all the time. Most days I would watch them and imagine myself on the stage instead of them. I was enchanted. Mother never allowed me to watch them until I turned sixteen and finished my Secondary education.
I had a secret admiration for them and a few times when I attempted to tell Mother how I would love to be like them. She would shake her head and say 'Tope, you will not become a harlot, not while your father and I are alive. No child of mine will be a singer, God forbid!’ She would snap her fingers over her head in the usual Yoruba fashion.
I decided not to talk to her about it anymore. She was too old fashioned anyway and I was convinced all artists could not be women of easy virtue. Sikira, our house maid suffered for it though as I perpetually bore her with tales of how I would one day become a star and sing all over the world and how I would then tell my mother not all musicians were loose people..... (to be continued maybe..hehehe)