One day at a time...

OK, this time around I am serious. I need to shed these extra pounds. Not for anyone, but for myself. Its been a hard battle, but I really need to do this. For me. For my sanity and my self esteem. I am tired of looking so hard to find things I like and want. Things that fit. Did I also mention that most of my friends are petite? I do not feel inferior in anyway, but I think I am tired of being odd!!! Besides, I do not want to develop a health challenge before I start doing something about it.

I have come to the realization that if I can discipline myself in all other areas of my life; Academics, relationships, finances... then I should be able to do same for myself in terms of my appearance.

This video below has inspired me to. (Not that I am that fat anyway, but if care is not taken, I may end up that way...after all, its little drops that finally make a mighty ocean)

Moreover, I read a blog yesterday by Mamuje about how she climbed Mt Kilimanjaro for self accomplishment...I must confess that although I would rather watch from a distance... I was inspired to "climb my own "mountain" too.

Wish me luck and happy viewing!!!

P.S- I hope it inspires you to overcome that thing that has proved to be a mountain before you too!

Bad Habits: Spitting in Public...Or is everyone suddenly pregnant?

I live in Lagos and have always done so. As far back as primary school, I remember we were taught that it was very bad to do it in public. Unfortunately, rather than see this habit get extinguished it seems to be getting more rampant this days.

I am talking of spitting. It is very disgusting and should not be done in public places.

According to Wikipedia, it is the act of forcibly ejecting saliva or other substances from the mouth. It is currently considered rude and a social taboo in many parts of the world including the West, while in some other parts of the world it is considered more acceptable. It is possible to transmit infectious diseases in this way.

Personally, I doubt if it can ever be considered acceptable. Ever. In fact, as far back as the 19th Century in Western Europe, it was considered vulgar to spit in public. (Fancy that).

I remember in our "Health Science" classes in Primary school, we learned good and bad habits (don't spit in public, cover your mouth when you cough, don't talk with a full mouth...etc). Is it just me, or have all these things passed like a fad? Back then we used to call people who spat in public "dirty". This doesn't seem to be the case anymore, as you see pregnant women, non-pregnant women, men, children spitting. Aaarrrggghhhh!

Granted, the environment in Lagos is smelly and dirty (open sewers and drains, stagnant bodies of water everywhere, dump sites on normal street, to put it mildly - Lets not even get to the men people who pee in these drains- have you ever thought of what happens when the place is flooded?As has been the recent case in Lagos? Let me save that for another day). But does spitting make the place cleaner for you? Does it make you feel cleaner personally?

Well, if you answered yes, then I must inform you that spitting tends to bring about various diseases and infections can be spread by respiratory droplets, including tuberculosis, influenza, and the common cold.

Plus its very irritating to the other people around. If you are so irritated, why not just leave the place and go somewhere that is cleaner?

Please save the world and try to stop being "dirty". We need to teach the wee ones good habits, because they copy everything they see us do or say.

Centric

Her world. My world. Her world. Friends.
Bound by a common factor- School, love for God, gist, shopping, same friends.
We each had primary areas of focus. I had my family, a relationship, church, work,life. They had theirs too. Yet we tried to keep the friendship going by meeting as often as we could, which wasn't all the time.
I thought they were too busy and tried to initiate meetings, just like they tried to as well. It usually didn't work out for everyone and we ended up meeting at different times. With apologies from one party or the other. Then we would plan to meet again to pray, seek advise which we wouldn't take most times. I guess it was our way of keeping all of us abreast of what was happening in our lives. Our way of saying, this "this is why I have been so busy, I have been trying to sort things out". "My boss at work is giving me a tough time". "I work weekends". "I have to baby-sit". "My parents have called a meeting of all family members and I have to be there". "My boo is coming into town and I have to be with him". The excuses were unending when they came.But when we did meet, it was always fun, with promises to "do this again".

So we met one weekend after promising there would be no excuses. We had news we wanted to share. We promised we would make it no matter what happened and we did. we had fun. We ate and forgot about calories. We talked and poured out all our hearts content, making bare our souls and not being ashamed.
We spoke about the men in our lives, the food we had eaten that was bad, what we should eat instead, laughed over the fact that that particular information was just for the table only as we would never stick to it, spoke about our family members, relationships at work, our different churches and things we had learned that were speaking to us, spoke of our fears, and grievances, about where to purchase jewelry, undies, bags, spoke about what we really wanted to do,and how we wanted to do it...
We were friends at that point, We had transcended that level. We were sisters, and we loved each other. We could play for 20 Years. We forgot about people and about things. We just wanted to be us. No airs. and . we. were.
Going back home that night, I pondered ...we each had our lives, and things that were important to us. Making us friends with similar but different characteristics. Yet we found time to relate at a level that could satisfy our social craving for affiliation and self -esteem.
I love my friends and I am proud to call them S.I.S.T.E.R.S.

Saved by...what?

The wicked bottle beckoned me over. I stared at it helplessly, my gaze riveted to it. I couldn't help but stare stupidly.

It released a sweat and my eyes followed it all the way down to the table where it sat and gloated at me triumphantly. I swallowed very hard as I could imagine how cold it was, could feel it on my tongue, going down my throat...in my stomach. Heck, I could even feel the belch rising lazily in my belly and coming out in a very satisfied rumble from the deep recess of my throat.

I tried to look away, alas, I was spell bound. Held captive by an icy cold bottle of coke.

I remembered my promise to my mum that I would count my calories and sincerely watch my weight...but it sounded so distant...so like 3 years ago. This was present. Here and now.

I suddenly started having "withdrawal symptoms". It felt like I had suddenly developed Malaria. I told myself I was ill and needed something very cold to reduce the temperature. What better to do that with, if not this bottle of coke, I reasoned to myself..."just for today. After today, I will no longer take it". Then I remembered that I was on the "count my calorie and watch my weight' road because I kept saying "I would start it tomorrow"

I left the room for the coke. I must confess, although this would have been seen as discipline and control, I did not feel too good about it. I felt like I had been challenged by a puppy. 

I do hope I can win other challenges in the future...*sigh*

How do you know?

My mind is everywhere. Thinking of a billion things at the same time. Some co-ordinated. Others, not so co-ordinated. I am not sure I can say for sure what it is I am thinking of per time.

I am happy I am alive and well. Glad I have a family that cares and love me. Thankful that I have a job. Appreciate the fact that I have a place to lay my head each night. Thankful that I have friends I can call and fight with (just because), laugh and cry with and share good news. Glad for that special man that makes me smile and tells me everything will be all right.

I get sad when I hear bad news. Bad News that can easily be avoided. Children dropping out of school, hawking on the streets and getting into street fights and trouble with the law when they should be playing pranks in their classes and be children. I get sad when I see the physically challenged begging on the streets. Its tough being challenged. You get to wonder why everyone else is not challenged and you are. My sister says it takes a lot of guts to rise above one's physical deformity and move on in life. I agree! Its not even easy surviving in this harsh world(survival of the fittest),talk little of being challenged. I hope to set up a camp or something to teach these people how to be independent. (So help me God)

I get mad when I hear how violent people get with people who are not strong enough to protect themselves. (Hey, go pick on someone your own size, and see how you fare). I hate bullying. I hate it when bosses pick on their subordinates just because they are in the position of authority.

I read a very sad story recently, a man murdered his wife and mother of his daughter because He was angry. What right does a man have to raise his hands to beat a woman? His wife? Mother of his child? I thought a man was made the head of a house to provide for his family? Given muscles and strength to hold, cherish and protect his woman? I assumed a man was made more patient of the two to think things out thoroughly before making decisions for the good of his family?

What happened in this man's case?

Anger is a horrible thing. I know because I used to get so angry when I was a lot younger. It took the grace of God. Am not a saint now (still get very impatient, sometimes), but I try not to let it get the better of me. You see it controls you, and if you let someone get you angry, then you have just given the person control over your whole life.

I wonder how many women put up with abusive men just because they want to "protect" what they have. Don't want to be counted among the "divorced" or "separated" women. Don't want to be "tagged" as "failed women".

How do you even know who it is you are dating, about to tie the knot with, or married to? A man's (generic usage) intentions are never written on his forehead. A man may say something and mean another. Do you google to be sure? Or keep questioning a man's actions to be sure they are genuine? Do you get the answer from friends?family? Does God tell you audibly? Or by little warning signs here and there. Through people, events, occurrences? How do you know when it is enough? When to stop hoping and pack up your bags? When to leave the bags and run for your life?

We may never know the answers to some things, but I hope and pray that we don't make mistakes that we may never even know we have committed. The questions will always be there and we may never get to find the answers on this side of heaven.