tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-813250458886572412024-03-14T02:31:47.208+00:00Silvern Speeches...Yes, Silence is golden... and I do love silence. This blog is about those times when I have something I need to share. It could be a poem, a short story, an account of my day, an experience I thought blog-worthy, a social commentary, or my random thoughts... So grab your cuppa coffee, or tea if you would, and enjoy!Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-18943854396398675112014-08-12T03:15:00.000+00:002014-08-12T17:10:10.802+00:00A Regression of Marriage against Time<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">*This post is testament to what happens when you attempt to process your musings on the bus ride home with half-hearted regression analysis. Both Econometrics and Storytelling were harmed in the making of this post.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are some girls
who have their wedding dresses picked out at age nine. Age and body mass
changes may make some alterations to this design, but the final wedding dress
will be a beautiful princess cut ivory dress with a sweetheart neckline and
delicate sleeves, just like she drew at Kowah’s 9<sup>th</sup> birthday
sleepover.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are others who
have to be cajoled and prodded by nature and society to contemplate their
wedding days. Even then, they (brandishing a risk aversion fashioned by
experience and/or inherent nature) reluctantly enter the pool and readily grasp
on to any mishap as reason to head back to shore and stay there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Time and tide doth
happen to both groups, and it’s interesting to note a convergence in attitude
towards marriage with time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Your college years are
purported to be prime partner-finding time. You will never again have as big a
pool of eligible, relatively untouched suitors within ready reach. The ‘relatively
untouched’ is crucial because as you grow, you realize that people’s college
and post-college experiences changes them. And if the liaisons before you did
not end at the altar, they invariably carry some baggage which adds another
level of difficulty to being with them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">It follows then that
the years right after college are the years you see the most nuptials. Those
who sustained their campus (and sometimes high school) relationships make it
official, and those whose progress was impeded by perceived immaturity quickly
grow up once thrown into the jungle that is today’s workplace and if so
inclined, find mates thereafter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Receiving wedding
invitation after invitation takes its toll on a soul, and this is the time
where the desire to one day (sooner or later) get married is strongest. This
lasts one to four years after which the invitations become infrequent, and
controlling for the fact that you lose touch with old friends, it is at this
stage that those who got married have gotten over the honeymoon phase and the
cracks if any start to show. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thus, amidst the tales
of infidelity and divorce, the marriage stock falls, making you more likely to
invest your time, energy or emotions elsewhere, or at the very least, make some
reallocations in your investment portfolio. Of course, there is a mixed effect
here due to invitations to offspring events potentially pulling at your
maternal and paternal strings to be accounted for.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is easy to see why
the propensity to get married sees a steady decline once you reach thirty. At
this stage, you know exactly what you do and don’t want. Worse, you’ve probably
figured out (rightly or falsely so) that you let someone who was exactly what
you needed go and so tend to measure everyone by them, requiring that they be
at least as good as. I know. Life…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">After thirty, the
decline slows down and your curve approaches the axis as time approaches
infinity, never quite touching it. </span></span></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-72062916566439288902014-05-06T18:06:00.000+00:002014-05-06T18:06:14.581+00:00Gambling and Life<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’ve got to know
when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to
run…” ~ Kenny Rogers, ‘The Gambler’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://designldg.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/a-game-of-cards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://designldg.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/a-game-of-cards.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Source: http://designldg.wordpress.com/<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes Life feels
like a bad game of cards and you wish you could just throw all your cards on
the table and surrender, giving up the game. But sometimes you can’t, and this
worsens your feeling of being trapped at Life’s table, playing cards and making
polite conversation (even if just using nods and grunts) when you’d rather be
anywhere else in the world. Well, not ANYwhere, but you get the picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘The Gambler’ became
one of my favorite songs on first listen because of how apt a metaphor gambling
is for Life. We are all sitting at the table trying to make the best of
whatever cards get handed us. Depending on which card game your table is
playing, a favorable hand may be aces, or twos and threes. Depending on the
rules of the game, you may have very little control over the game once your
cards are handed to you, and that is one of the scariest and most frustrating
things to us as human beings – the absence/loss of control. It is no
coincidence that one of the most common nightmares in Life is falling – there’s
absolutely nothing you can do till you land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When Life hands you a
miserable hand, you have little to no control over the game. Your best bet is
to put on a poker face, and hope that those dealt better hands stumble and
create an opportunity you can grab and run with. Of course, there are those
games where you can exchange or add to your cards, and those possibilities can
give a bit of a boost in overcoming being dealt a bad hand to win or at least
break even in the game.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://s-media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/cf/d3/f3/cfd3f3a53d2ca1399deaf936e4387eda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/cf/d3/f3/cfd3f3a53d2ca1399deaf936e4387eda.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/350717889702354803/<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But most of the time,
it’s a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to put the cards you’ve been
dealt on the table, instantly winning or taking control of the game. And in the
meanwhile, you keep a vigilant eye out on the table and another on the
selection of cards in your hand, permuting all possibilities and opportunities,
and recalibrating your strategy every time a play is made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And since we cannot
stop playing for as long as we live, and since the ending of each game whether
we win or lose leads to another game (with the occasional change of table or
particular game of cards); we wait, pounce, rinse and repeat, hoping to at
least break even at the end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b6/Table_game_of_cards_birds_eye_view.JPG/220px-Table_game_of_cards_birds_eye_view.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b6/Table_game_of_cards_birds_eye_view.JPG/220px-Table_game_of_cards_birds_eye_view.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonk_(card_game)<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-86605817433140887192013-08-05T04:44:00.001+00:002013-08-05T21:15:22.958+00:00How Safe is ‘Safe Sex’?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">DJ
Crosby was on the board and that statement alone tells you everything you need
to know about the success of the event given that it was a salsa dance party.
This guy handled the turntable with such finesse that I found myself wishing I
was a turntable, being maneuvered masterfully under the tips of his fingers to
produce sounds that were pure aural bliss. This was profound given that
‘Spanish Guitar’ was playing when I had this thought, and I have wanted to be
played like a Spanish guitar for as long as I can remember. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">My
dance partner that night was perfect, making an already awesome night all the
more awesome. This guy was one of the most sensitive dance partners I have ever
had. He made me look like I sashayed into the aviation social center after
stepping off the plane from an international salsa competition where I won several trophies, a remarkable and commendable feat given
my two left feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Despite
my loving his partnering skills, I had only danced with Boris twice. His
Barbie-proportioned girlfriend was usually an arm’s length away tensioning you
with her perfect figure and flawless make-up. As if that was not enough, this
girl had the most piercing brown eyes that made you feel guilty and want to
confess even when you had done nothing wrong. She was a lawyer and I felt for
those who would stand trial in her courtroom when she became judge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Only
one girl had been able to break her cool, collected,
I-know-my-boyfriend-and-I-are-the-hottest-couple-here stance and that was my
crazy twin, Robbie. When Robbie walks into a room, she immediately singles out
the hottest guy in the room and introduces herself. The day I managed to drag
her to salsa, she walked straight to the guy and introduced herself while he
was dancing with his girlfriend. Chelsea looked at her with her best ‘back-off
he’s mine’ look and Robbie, without batting an eye said “Oh, but it’s not him I
was checking out. I was actually playing out fantasies with you in my head.”
This silenced Chelsea, a first, and everyone cheered silently for Robbie. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Chelsea was nowhere in sight tonight and I took full advantage to fulfill some of my tamer fantasies with Boris. I
danced a little closer, popped my back a little harder to make my behind look
bigger, and exaggerated every sway of my hips, using every turn to run my hands
through my hair and slide them artfully down my nape, ending provocatively
right above my bosom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">The ever-sensitive partner, Boris quickly read my vibes and turned me in his arms, putting me in
prime position to grind upon him during a particularly sultry Portuguese
number. Caught in the sensual haze, I had not noticed the lights in the
makeshift dance studio had dimmed until my furtive glance around to see if we
were putting on a show. We were not. In fact, the couple next to us was
bordering on obscene and no one was paying them heed because each couple was
caught in their own cocoon of lust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Emboldened
by the darkness which assuaged some of my catholic guilt, I slowly unleashed some of the dance moves I usually reserved for my
mirror at home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">The
song barely ended when he put his palm in the small of my back and led me
outside. It seemed to have rained while we were inside, and the night was cool
and dark, beckoning one into the shadows with sultry promise. </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;">For
some inexplicable reason, Boris became shy when we found a step to sit on and
he just held my hand and talked. He told me about his recent break-up with
Chelsea (I cheered silently), and we got to know each other. In fact, he was
regaling me with an anecdote about his time as entertainment prefect in PRESEC
when I looked up and saw the sun had begun to rise. We had talked from 1am to
6am!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I
bolted from his arms, remembering the wedding I had to attend with my mom later
in the day. It was in Keta and we were scheduled to leave Accra by 9:00am. I
should have gotten home eons ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">……………………………………………………………………………………………………<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">♪♪ Ai se eu te pego, ai ai se eu te pego ♪♪. I
glanced at my phone. Boris. We had
spoken every day this past week, but had both missed salsa this Friday due to
work commitments. Today was a week after the wedding. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Hey!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Hey!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Do
you swim?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Some.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">My
buddy is having a pool party later today. Wanna come?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">You
don’t have to do this to see me in a bikini, you know? You could just ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Okay,
Miss. I would very much like to see you in a bikini at this pool party my
friend is having today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Touché.
Where at?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">He
lives near Midindi hotel, but I insist on picking you up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I’ll
be around Labone visiting with cousins so text me the address and I’ll have my
cousin drop me. You can drive me home, though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I’d
rather pick you up from your cousins. But if you insist…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I
do (I cut in)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Okay.
I’ll text you the address. See you later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">……………………………………………………………………………………………………<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Boris
in swimming trunks was truly a sight for sore eyes, but then I already knew
that from the slim-fit shirts he sometimes wore to salsa. Besides, you don’t flip and lift all xxx pounds of the
awesome I am with such ease without serious muscles. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">“Where
can I change?” I asked. “I’ll show you.” He briskly whisked me off. We had
scarce turned the corner when he slammed me into the wall and kissed me.
“Hello!” he said, after a brief kiss. “Hi!” I said, leaning in for a longer
kiss. “Behave!” He said slyly. ‘We are in somebody’s house.” I laughed, vowing to get back at him later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Boris’
whistle when I came out was worth the $80 I had spent on the Calvin Klein
bikini set I had bought on sale at Nordstrom. I stood taller and somehow
flicked my kinky afro hair. After introductions to the group, we raced a couple
of laps and sat down, legs dangling in the water to talk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I
got my test results back from the doctor yesterday<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Which
test results? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Chelsea
and I broke up because she was cheating on me with a girl. Well it turns out
the girl was cheating on her with a boy who must have also been doing his own
thing because he caught hepatitis B and passed it down the chain. Chelsea only
told me because she had to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Oh! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Anyway,
I had had the vaccine so knew I probably hadn’t caught it, but decided to do
complete blood work to verify I was clean and see what else I may have caught.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">And…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I’m
clean<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Oh,
ok <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I
would also like you to take all the tests<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">You’re
assuming it will matter. You’re assuming we will… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">(I gasped! He had snuck his
hand behind me and trailed his icy-cold fingers down my sun-kissed back. I
glanced sideways at him, the Ghanaian girl blush, as Mensa calls it. The heat
in his eyes made me blush for real. Okay, so we definitely would) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Should
I feel insulted because you are demanding this? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">No,
you should feel taken care of. It’s not just for my safety. There is for
instance no way to test for HPV for guys. Take the test, and get the vaccine.
Let’s know what we are working with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">You
can catch stuff from kissing too, you know? (I asked, musing.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">I
know. You could have given me oral herpes already…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">-<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Among
other things… (I solemnly </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;">said</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;">)</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">The
rest of the afternoon went wonderfully, and as I lay in bed that night, I
thought of safe sexual behavior and remembered a question Nana Darkoa asked
last week. “Is ‘safe sex’ truly ever safe?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">This
is a generation that tweets and blogs about one-night stands and having risqué
oral and other sexual encounters in parking lots and backseats of cars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">A
condom does not protect against contact-spread infections, and your
faithfulness does not guarantee your partner’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">With
so much seemingly out of our control, it’s perplexing that we do not always
control what we can. We have people priding themselves on being #teamraw. We
have people thanking God they are not pregnant every month. We have people
having unprotected side sex all the time and bringing back to their partners who
may have been faithfully waiting at home, not just news of babies, but
infections upon infection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">We
see people brandishing Postinor as their birth-control method of choice, proud
that they are baby-free, ignoring what infections they may be picking up of
spreading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">How
does one keep safe in the madness of it all? Aside the best bet abstinence
which even then can only last till marriage, how do you keep safe? What are
your rules and defense mechanisms? Are they truly enough?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS","sans-serif";">Food
for thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-13957498359619606632013-04-16T05:10:00.001+00:002013-04-16T05:11:43.880+00:00Lessons from the Boston Marathon <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
These days (with an alpha of 0.05), you can be sure that anytime you pick up a newspaper, your phone, iPad, etc., you will find news of accidents, crimes and acts of violence that will make you wonder about our world. Anything from going to school/church/work to running a marathon can end in your departure from this world. Events like the Boston Marathon explosions make you realize how little control you have in this life. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A wise woman once told me that when it is your time, you will go; but some deaths are clearly not yours. She gave an example of being hit by a drunk driver on your way home from a revival, school or business trip; and being hit while running away from a married man's wife because she came home early from her business trip. You die either way. However...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A colleague lost a neighbor in Mali last week. The guy was a pilot and after surviving one crash, was told to stay home cos the next one might take him. He said He'd rather die in a crash than stay home and be safe. He died pursuing his passion. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Considering how uncertain the time you have left on this world is, we should not waste time on things we don't love; things that make no difference in the bigger picture. In a perfect world, we would all be doing what we love, everyday. In this imperfect world, let's spend as little time as possible on the things that don't matter. Time is precious.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In honor of the Boston casualties and all who lose life and limb in the most unexpected places, endeavor to not spend anytime doing one thing when you'd rather be doing another, especially if the second option is available to now. The only exception is when A will help you do B (or do it better in future), for instance, going to school to master your craft.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Prayers to all who were directly impacted by the Boston Marathon Events today and their families... and to all of us. May we remain safe in this increasingly unsafe world.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-34535458311894341972013-03-12T01:09:00.000+00:002013-03-12T01:10:56.822+00:00When the Heart Decides, and the Family Says No<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Hello Blogsville,</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Happy new year and yes, shame on me for putting up my first blog-post of the year in March. I have no excuse, and can only promise to do better. So without much ado, here goes... </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">You know how
difficult it is to find that person who makes bearing the inherent risks of a committed
monogamous relationship seem like peanuts to trade for the joy of being
together in all the ways that count? No? Yea, me neither… </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">You know how
people are always saying a good man or woman is hard to find? Finding such a
(wo)man seems to increasingly be a Professor Acheampong designed Calculus II proof
question. You know the answer. It’s been given to you in the question. And yet,
there are a myriad of wrong tangents you could go off on if one does not
exercise utmost caution in one’s approach.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imagine the exhilarating
feeling of accomplishment when you are finally able to prove that when ‘x’
jumps to Mars and comes back, it is still ‘x’. You heave a huge sigh of relief
knowing that at least you’re assured full marks for that question.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But wait a
minute. You’re not home free yet. You have to ensure that you have not broken
any mathematical law, and that you have used every relevant piece of
information in the question. It is possible that you have proved that when ‘x’
jumps to Mars and comes back, it is still ‘x’. However, imagine the horror if
you come out of the examination room only to realize the question asked you to
prove that when ‘x’ jumps to Mars wearing a Speedo suit of 5 pounds mas</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">That, my
friends, is my convoluted (forgive!) attempt at describing the sinking feeling
you get when you find the (wo)man of your dreams <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and s/he is from a part of the country or
globe your parents forbid you to wed from.\</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">You know how football,
the map of Ghana and Wofa Atta’s (bless his soul) funeral seems to suggest that
we are one people? That oneness is in no way true when it comes to marriage,
make no mistake. When it comes to marriage, all 56 or so ethnic groups are
every vocal about what they will and will not accept. And ethnic stereotyping (a
canker which unfortunately seems to transcend education, religion and football)
rears its very potent, very ugly, timeless head. Almost every family has its
list.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I hope I will
not be thrown under the proverbial train for being that foolishly courageous
one to point out that the chief priest has stained teeth when I say that most
Ghanaian families, especially Akan ones, are not particularly enthusiastic
about welcoming Voltarians into the family, or ‘sending’ one of their own into
a Voltarian family, as the case may be.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I recently
caught up with an old friend who was dating the sweetest boy I have ever come across,
let’s call him Edem. I inquired after Edem, feeling smug for remembering his
name only to be told Edem was history. “Mommy must have been crushed”, I said.
Edem was in charge of the teen’s chapel in their church and Awo’s mom, having
observed his service and dedication as the head of the youth ministry, often
joked that she could not have picked better for her daughter if it had been up
to her to choose.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Awo quietly
disclosed, “That is what I thought too, but she confessed during one of our
post break-up mother-comforts-daughter sessions that although she loved Edem,
she was never comfortable with where he came from and so perhaps it was all for
the best. Imagine that!” I could not imagine…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Apparently,
within the Volta region itself, they are not holding hands and singing ‘Kumbaya’
by a fire-place. There appears to be a case of Northern and Central versus
Southern going on, or as someone put it less diplomatically, everyone else
versus the Anlos. Naturally, my Anlo friends insist ‘they just hatin’. It can
however be quite serious. I recently sat down to lunch with a friend from Peki
who was telling me about his parents’ stated preference that he NOT bring a
southern Voltarian home. He further disclosed how this feeling was so deeply ingrained
in the family that an aunt had three unmarried daughters between the ages of 33
and 38 still at home because these poor girls seemed to have acquired a taste
for Anlo men.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I expressed the
sentiment that one would think as a parent, one’s first priority would be the
happiness of your kids. But the thing is, for most parents, they truly believe
they are looking out for their kids and saving them from a lifetime of misery with
these prohibitions. Many have personally witnessed or experienced things that
made their minds up and so we may even say have valid reasons. But this does
not ease the pain of star-crossed relationships, nor make it right.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Pardon my
idealism but I just fail to see how it’s looking out for your offspring when
you refuse to acknowledge your children and grandchildren after eight years of
marriage to their ‘undesirable’ spouse (as in the case of my neighbor). I’m
unable to see how denying your children and grandchildren your presence and
support is in their best interest. A mother disowns her daughter and refuses to
go to her bedside as her daughter lies dying of cancer at 35 because she
married from a tribe she does not like. And whom does this help? How?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">While we’re
being idealistic, shouldn’t your ultimate goal be their happiness? Granted, you’ll
sleep, and eventually, rest easier knowing they married someone from your
village. But should you permit their not doing so to rob both of you of
whatever time you have left together? Who knows how much time that is? And are
there not more pressing issues in this life?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I know this will
probably not change (m)any minds but can we at least think a bit more about it
when it gets to our turn? No? Okay, then consider this writing therapy for me
*sigh*.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-24191548021292876082012-12-06T22:22:00.003+00:002012-12-06T22:22:49.650+00:00On Free SHS and Evaluating Campaign Promises...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have been largely uncomfortable with the way the debate on
free SHS has gone. Today, Steven Landsburg’s words in “The Armchair Economist”
gave me some clarity… (I think)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“One of the first rules of policy analysis is that you can
never prove that a policy is desirable by proving its benefits. It goes without
saying that nearly any policy anybody can dream up has some advantages. If you
want to defend a policy, your task is not to demonstrate that it does some
good, but that it does more good than harm.” Thus on the flipside, if you want
to oppose a policy, your task is not to demonstrate that it does some harm, but
that it does more harm than good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">To demonstrate that a program does more good/harm than
harm/good, one must at least take an implicit stand on the fundamental
philosophical issue of what ‘more’ means, and how much ‘more’ is required to
implement a policy, or throw it out of the window. You also have to determine
the right standard for weighing one kind of cost (harm) against another kind of
benefit (good). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It is easy to get carried away with making long lists of pros
and cons, forgetting that sooner or later, we must decide how many cons it
takes to outweigh a particular pro, and vice versa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We can commission experts to estimate costs and benefits, but
when the costs are measured in apples and the benefits in oranges, mere
arithmetic cannot illuminate the path to ‘righteousness’. When all the facts
are in, we still need a moral philosophy to guide our decisions. This is where
ideological differences come in and invariably leads to people on either side
of the fence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thus the winner of the elections (or any elections for that
matter), will not determine whether a manifesto policy is ‘good’ or ‘bad’,
whatever those words mean to you in this context. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The important thing to me then, is to ask how Ghana can
benefit from the dialogue about this free SHS policy or any other campaign
promise, no matter the outcome of the elections. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">In the case of free SHS, if the NDC wins, how do we hold them
up to the standard of ‘not now’? How do we ensure that they put in place at
least some of the preparatory measures required for ‘later’, and at a pace that
will not make the ‘later’ effectively ‘never’?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Should the NPP win, how do we ensure that the catastrophic ‘now’
predictions of harm are minimized? How do we ensure that casualties will be
minimized even if it falls flat on its face like some predict? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sitting down and folding our arms should not be an option, no
matter what side of the divide we find ourselves on. It is in no one’s interest
to just wait and be able to say “Aha! We said it!” especially when the future
of the nation is at stake. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But then again, that’s just my two cent’s worth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; color: #262626; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">PS: Talking this over with my Dad made me realize this may be
seen as a call for a national development agenda so that we are not swinging
from party manifesto to manifesto. But alas! We all know how that story goes…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-23248246686063813542012-10-22T06:45:00.000+00:002012-10-22T06:45:20.158+00:00On Getting over a Break-UpSometimes, a bad break-up is a blessing in disguise. It leaves little room for entertaining 'sankofa-ish' thoughts. Sally thought back to how this was recently true in her own life. Her last break-up had been particularly painful and nearly cost her the scholarship she held at the time. She had cried herself to bed more times then she cared to count and had dated many ice-cream flavors in a series of one-night stands which left her waistline carrying a few extra inches as battle scars.<br />
<br />
She stopped wearing make-up and wore naught but sweats for months on end (Granted, after a while, this was because they were the only things that fit anymore). She lost all interest in school and only went to class so she wouldn't get kicked out of the program. Once in class, she spent the time trying very hard to look interested while counting the seconds till she could go back to her apartment, lay in the fetal position, cuddle whichever ice-cream flavor was sharing her bed that night, and watch sad movies or listen to heartbreak music till sleep gave her respite from her wandering mind and aching heart. It was a dark, dark time.<br />
<br />
Through all the darkness however, it never came to calling Senanu to take her back. Nary a drunken text (or whatever the teetotaler equivalent was) passed her phone. And it was all because of the nature of the break-up. Senanu's treatment of the situation left no doubt in her mind that she was never going back to date him. This is not to say that she walked away from him without a second glance. Having been friends long before they dated, she would often weep for the loss of their friendship and wish he could be there for her as he was pre-dating. It wasn't until much later that it sunk in that the whole "Let's be friends" after a break-up thing held very little appeal for most people, especially when they are male... especially when there's next to no chance of future copulation.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Sally was taking stock of the blessing of her break-up today because she just finished talking to her best friend Akosua on the phone and that conversation made her realize that although she never wanted a second chance after the break-up, it wasn't until recently that she had gotten over the whole Senanu incident. She hadn't talked to Akosua in a while and it was Akosua who pointed out her healing to her.<br />
<br />
Sally had equated not wanting a come-back to being over Senanu. However, as Akosua pointed out, she was never able to talk about or to him without getting somewhat emotional. She had suppressed all her anger at the break-up and so a little would escape every time she came into contact with him or his name was mentioned in conversation. While they were no longer together, he still had rent-free accommodation in her heart. Only difference was that he had been moved from the master bedroom to the boys quarters.<br />
<br />
Akosua noted her friend was getting healed the day she met Senanu and his new girl. Sally had initially been hesitant to meet them, having her suspicions that Senanu had started dating this new girl while they were still together. She was afraid she would meet the girl and act in a way or say something untoward. However she met the girl and realized that all her questions about when they started dating didn't matter. Not immediately, mind you. She had wanted to query Senanu and settle the issue in her mind once and for all. But she started asking the questions and realized there was no point. It didn't matter. And that was the beginning of her closure.<br />
<br />
Her other close friend Gyamfua offered an explanation to why this was so. Forgiveness. Sally had never forgiven Senanu nor herself and that had laid siege to her letting go and truly getting over him. When Gyamfua's own boyfriend broke up with her, he moved away from town and so was able to make a fresh start. Gyamfua always resented his fresh start while she had to stay in town and deal with all their family and friends and their 'well-meaning' questions. She had had to not only get over the break-up with her boyfriend of nine years, but also, explain the break-up to all who knew them at home, at church and what have you.<br />
<br />
To make matters worse, everyone believed her beau was such a great catch that it must have been her fault that he broke up with her and some ladies at church went as far as asking her to confess what she did to them so that they go apologize to him on her behalf. He was a wonderful man, they said, and would forgive her if she begged him, and they added their voices to it. The thing was, her boyfriend was gay. She had been his beard for the nine years they were together. He had told her he had pledged abstinence till marriage and had always chastised her for tempting him whenever her hormones got the better of her.<br />
<br />
She had decided to surprise him one day only to hear moans from his room. Thinking it was his flatmate narrowing him again, she had rang his cell only to hear it ring in the room. He told her he wasn't at home, and she had used her key to find him in a compromising position with his 'flatmate'. Instead of staying to face the music and coming out, he had skipped town, leaving her to do all the explanation and to become more resentful with every question and pitying stare she got. It took her four years to forgive him, and it was only then that she got over him and moved on.<br />
<br />
Getting over a break-up isn't an exact science. It is all too relative. Some will take months, others will take years. Some have more to forgive than others and some are more easily forgiving than others. Sometimes, the most difficult person to forgive will be yourself. At times because you (feel you) failed your heart by giving it to your ex, other times, it will be you who wronged your ex so bad that you can't forgive yourself for letting a good catch go. In any case, take all the time you need and be honest to yourself every step of the way.<br />
<br />
No matter how long you need, that day always comes. The day you can talk of an ex with nothing more than passing interest. With no need to explain why you dated them or how horrible a person they/you were to anyone. That day, you wont have to say it out loud. You wont have to convince anyone. You will know. That it's truly over.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Like
Stephanie Georgopulos said, “Moving on is not like a birthday, you can’t count
down the hours ‘til it arrives and you can’t mark it on a calendar and you
can’t call up your friends to help you celebrate. You can’t plan for it and you
can’t conclude it by blowing out a candle. When moving on happens there will be
no announcements, no notifications, no congratulations. There will be no
parade; only you will know”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-29544068971560857812012-09-20T05:22:00.001+00:002012-09-20T06:26:09.155+00:00One Night Stand<br />
She woke up before he did and stood before the mirror<br />
Lips swollen, two hickeys on the side of her neck<br />
With a heavy shadow on her face, the shadow of shame<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did, wanting to throw up<br />
Disgust and regret stirring up a storm in her belly<br />
Rising bile to her throat and sending her to the bathroom<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did and promptly went back to bed<br />
Hoping she'd wake up later to discover it was all a dream<br />
Crossing her fingers and toes, She woke up before he did and went back to bed<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did and snuck out the window<br />
If she didn't see or talk to him before she left<br />
Maybe she could erase last night from her memory<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did and called her mama<br />
Sobbing into the phone, she repeated brokenly<br />
" I'm sorry, Mama, I'm not the girl you raised anymore "<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did with a tear stained face<br />
And to these old tear trails were added fresh ones<br />
As her prayer warrior mama began to pray with her<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did full of regret<br />
Sick to the stomach and craving amnesia<br />
She woke up before he did, a broken woman<br />
<br />
But as mama cried out from the depths of her womb<br />
Her deep regret became true repentance<br />
And comfort from above engulfed her grief<br />
<br />
She woke up before he did, a broken woman<br />
But she left the hotel before he did, a changed woman<br />
And that was her last one-night stand ever
Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-15844978884682272312012-06-15T04:53:00.000+00:002012-06-15T04:53:09.230+00:00On Forgiveness...<div style="text-align: justify;">
"To forgive is not to condone the offense, to say it made no difference, or to license its repetition. Rather, forgiveness is a decision to no longer hold an offense against another group or person. It's a choice, just like love. Choose wisely!" ~Robin Harford</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Forgiveness is something I struggle with ever so often. One of the joys of letting few people close is that those who do, get really close and so have amazing power to hurt you. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTK8FSktKCkL2UUAwWSv7Wc4yOuPV5Qa9Rk8w77gZ2KTOkNv0NF" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTK8FSktKCkL2UUAwWSv7Wc4yOuPV5Qa9Rk8w77gZ2KTOkNv0NF" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">source: jameswoodward.wordpress.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another thing that brings me to the forgiveness struggle over and over is my need to understand things to let it go. When I have been hurt or let down, what caused me the most anguish was the 'Why?'.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For this reason, I am convinced that breaking up with someone without telling them exactly why you broke up with them is tantamount to emotional terrorism... but I digress.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So yeah, the forgiveness thing is not my forte and even less so is the forgetting part. And God being the patient teacher, time and again, I have been reminded of things that make nonsense of holding grudges.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1) Nobody can nor will wrong me to the extent that I wrong God. And if He forgives...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2) No matter how badly someone wrongs me, God wont stay mad at them because I haven't let it go. When they repent, He will forgive them. And will not withhold His blessings from them just cos I said so.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3) Whether we understand the actions of others or not, we are solely responsible for how we choose to process and react to them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
While the first one cannot really be debated, or at least elicits very little debate from me, the second and third have struck close to home a couple of times. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When you seek closure from a past hurt and you realize your past tormentor doesn't remember and has changed and so feels bad and apologizes although they don't remember, you realize how futile holding on to past hurt and grudges are. You're often the only one who suffers... and remembers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Makes you wonder who you hurt and may not even remember, doesn't it?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When you see a friend's ex who was cheating with like ten different girls become a pastor and marry an amazing minister of God, and go on to have an awesome life while your friend still harbors some resentment, you realize how God isn't waiting for your forgiveness to bless someone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And even when they don't change but remember and feel no remorse, you see them later on and realize that allowing their decision to be deliberately evil to affect your soul is a complete waste of time and emotional resources.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And you realize how although the starting quote said it was a choice, it's a necessary choice.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQCrkdJGXVtHo18pIO0lq1H0I8blCMYnDjiTGH3SVP-yLQ3zMMn4A" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQCrkdJGXVtHo18pIO0lq1H0I8blCMYnDjiTGH3SVP-yLQ3zMMn4A " /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">source: randomthoughtsonlifeblog.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
How do you handle forgiveness? What makes it easier?</div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-54417843149101173132012-05-16T12:46:00.000+00:002012-05-16T12:46:37.109+00:00How are you really, friend?<br />
Friends are those rare people who ask how we are and then wait to hear the answer.<br />
-- Ed Cunningham<br />
<br />
Three words, nine letters, and it can make all the difference in the world: “How are you?” At times I am convinced that a sincere “How are you?” says more about how much you mean to someone than an “I love you”.<br />
<br />
We can gush out an “I love you” to a stranger that lets us go before them to the bathroom when they notice us dancing to the tune of a bursting bladder and totally mean it at the time. And of course, we can say it more times than we can count no matter how false it may be when we feel it is what we need to say to get ‘some’.<br />
<br />
But I have noticed this; No matter how badly you want a person or want a favor from said person, or are grateful to said person, it is mighty hard to listen to the answer to “How are you?” when you do not care. Especially when the answer is anything other than “I am fine, thanks for asking”.<br />
<br />
At times, I do not realize how far I have drifted from a friend until they ask “How are you?” If a reflex “I am fine” comes out when I am anything but, I know the friendship is going downhill and I need to decide if I’m going to try and save it or just watch it fall into that dark abyss of past friendships.<br />
<br />
If I ask a perfunctory “How are you?” and cannot be bothered to listen to anything that is not an equally cursory “I am fine”, I know there is no need lying to myself about how little someone really matters.<br />
<br />
It amazes me how amazed everyone is at a suicide. The amazement is even more amazing when the person has tons of ‘friends’ and loved ones coming out to say how sorry and sad they are and that they had no idea what the person was going through.<br />
<br />
It makes me wonder, if people are such amazing actors/actresses, why are we being plagued with so many horrible movies these days? (JK! Ok, half-kidding)<br />
<br />
It makes me wonder, would someone asking “How are you?” and waiting to hear the full answer, no matter how long and horrible it was, have made a difference? I don’t know… but I wonder.<br />
<br />
A failed suicide attempt had parents and friends ask; “Why?” “Why didn’t you talk to us?” “How could we not know?” Still shaking from the visit to the no man’s land between life and death, Anna said, “You did not ask”. Mary looked away and said ‘I did. You didn’t listen’<br />
<br />
While some people would judge and say you should be proactive about seeking help when you need it, blah blah blah, I think of how often we ask ‘How are you?’ and neither expect nor wait for a real answer.<br />
<br />
Sometimes all we need is someone to listen. So what if the next time I ask a friend ‘How are you?’ I ask in a way that told them they could get vulnerable? What would I learn? What could I prevent?<br />
<br />
#thingsIthinkaboutat4am<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-11947476338803247022012-04-22T04:13:00.001+00:002012-04-22T04:14:22.224+00:00<br />
I know the internet has made long-distance relationships 'easier' and our loved ones are more available to us now when they are not with us than they've ever been. Yet, sometimes, like a sick child or a pregnant woman who will refuse any food that is not the vegetarian pizza sold 50 miles away when they are not even vegetarian, no amount or mode of communication can fill the void of their absence.<br />
<br />
There are just those times where you want to go and find Celine Dion and hug her for her song 'When I need Love' because you're detesting the miles and miles of empty spaces and realizing a telephone can truly not take the place of a smile...<br />
<br />
It sucks that Long-Distance is inevitable at times. Watching the army wives and girlfriends around me, I don't know how they do it. Even people with ah-so-frequent communication are crying for more. I asked my friend how she did it and she said no matter how little of him she gets, she'd rather have 0.001% of him that 0%. I guess that sorta kinda makes sense...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d
rather have you here…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I know I could text you, IM you, ping
you, etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">But I’d rather hear your voice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather feel your stubble <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">Gently grazing my neck <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">As you whisper into my ear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather breathe you in<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">With my arms around you<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">Holding you near<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather not text, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">Or Skype, or IM<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather have you here<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">And it hurts, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">That I can’t have <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">What I’d rather<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">But through all the pain,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">If stopping the pain <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">Means saying goodbye,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather miss you<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather hurt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">Although above all,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’d rather have you here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">(Right now)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">PS: Distance can go play in traffic right now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">PPS: I just realized this is my 100th post. </span></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-73165979407139430392012-04-07T06:04:00.001+00:002012-04-07T06:04:00.159+00:00Why I know I will 'always' love you<ul><li>Because I couldn't grasp the dictionary definition of euphoria until you held me away in your arms after a long hug, looked me in the eye with wonder and kissed my forehead with reverence. </li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because I, Miss flippant and nonchalant began to do crazy, fiercely possessive things like envy the sun its ability to touch any and every part of you, right there in the open.</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because the light and heat from your smile that greets me when I enter a room makes me wonder why energy is still an issue when there's enough light and warmth for an eternity in that smile.</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because your hand holding mine is more than enough backbone to face whatever obstacle life may think itself clever to have thrown my way. </li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because I never understood Romeo and Juliet until I stood by your bedside, machines beeping and wondered what would be left to live for if you didn't make it.</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because I never understood leaving the 99 sheep to pursue the lost one until I stood in my dream house, dream job in hand and realized I'd gladly give them all up to have you back from beyond</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because I can't bring myself to talk/write about you in the past tense after all this while.</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because I've never stopped asking God why</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Because, just because</li>
</ul>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-35303214726071157242012-04-03T06:30:00.000+00:002012-04-03T06:30:08.663+00:00The Story that cannot be ToldWhat do you do with a story <br />
<br />
you cannot tell yourself?<br />
<br />
A story where not even the<br />
<br />
hundredth person narrative would do<br />
<br />
And so first, second and third are out?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A story which shows you in the most<br />
<br />
unbecoming light ever?<br />
<br />
Going against everything you are (were?)<br />
<br />
And everything you ever stood for<br />
<br />
Being everything but you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
What do you do with a story<br />
<br />
you cannot forget about?<br />
<br />
A story which would change everything<br />
<br />
and yet wont stay down<br />
<br />
no matter how hard you push?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A story that would make your<br />
<br />
mentors and mentees at the very least<br />
<br />
See you as an ugly beast<br />
<br />
Or at the other end be so shocked they wonder<br />
<br />
if the sun truly rises from the east?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
What do you do with a story<br />
<br />
that is a painful lump in you throat?<br />
<br />
A story you'd gladly have surgery for<br />
<br />
To get rid of the lump<br />
<br />
And to erase it from your mind?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A story which makes you cry each night<br />
<br />
scaldng tears that would not fall?<br />
<br />
A story which sends you out<br />
<br />
for a strenuous midnight jog<br />
<br />
just to pause the thoughts?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A story which when you return from the jog<br />
<br />
exhausted beyond belief<br />
<br />
cold and shivering<br />
<br />
and enter the the shower,<br />
<br />
comes rushing back with the hot water?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A story you pray about every night?<br />
<br />
A story you cannot forgive yourself for?<br />
<br />
A story which... *swallows*<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
What do you do with such a story?<br />
<br />
What can you do with such a story?<br />
<br />
What must you do with such a story?<br />
<br />
Can you do anything with such a story?Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-29622736227375446952012-02-09T04:06:00.002+00:002012-02-09T04:07:31.589+00:00Retail Therapy<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I used to scoff at the idea of retail therapy. I am not a shopaholic and wouldn’t qualify as anybody’s definition of a fashionista, no matter how loose the definition. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet if retail therapy was a religion, I have gradually moved from an agnostic to an attend-several-times-a-year believer. This unwelcome realization came today when I felt really low, frustrated and uninspired due to a couple of things not going as planned and one big dead end.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I sat mulling over the turn of events, the happy music I had put on failing to do its work of cheering me up, one thought overrode the rest - ‘Go visit the mall’<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On a good day, I would scoff at the idea. Today, I realized the potential of a mall visit as a pick-me-up and sometimes, even a source of much needed inspiration and wanted to share.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The nice thing about retail therapy is that the placebo effect works equally well. You don’t actually have to buy anything on your trip to make you all better and this is a particular plus for a student on a budget.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, there is always the risk of coming away feeling low because you were unable to purchase an item you really set your heart on, or conversely, making an instantly-regretted-upon-reaching-home impulse purchase. With a little planning, this can be avoided or dealt with.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tips:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: 133.5pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>To avoid the allure of the treacherous bit of plastic called a credit card which allows you to spend money you do not have at present, you may want to leave that at home. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: 133.5pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>Decide if and how much you’re going to spend before leaving the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: 133.5pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>If possible, take only that amount with you to the mall<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: 133.5pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>Take a long, hard look at your bank account balance against the things you have to stretch your money to cover to re-enforce your determination to not spend<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: 133.5pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">·<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>Refrain from trying on tempting items you cannot put back on the rack if they fit<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My three go-to kinds of shopping for retail therapy are window shopping shoe shopping, and underwear shopping.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTKu8o1M-yiKlXlLCAgBByUIuzYWCnBtPryZBbaLh4tqA2UHApirw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTKu8o1M-yiKlXlLCAgBByUIuzYWCnBtPryZBbaLh4tqA2UHApirw" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">source: blog.travelpod.com</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Window Shopping</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Window shopping is the best kind of retail therapy there is. It is a cost-effective way of boosting your mood, getting inspiration for future outfits/purchases and getting your daily walking miles in whilst at it. It can be done with any item, cars, perfume, clothes, shoes, underwear, etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the perks of window shopping for me is that I have visuals of what I am working towards when I get back and my books are proving stubborn. Since I am not actually buying, I do not shy away from the higher-end stores. Whist it may be considered vain, the thought of being able to buy the nice things I cannot afford at the moment has helped me power through many a difficult assignment. I guess it is comparable reasoning to going to the show-room and test-driving a luxury car you’re in no position to purchase at the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTetmup9vWYNmgjdjflOlDJ9ai7CawSNNTiTcIRx2Qo7DEXIS4f" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTetmup9vWYNmgjdjflOlDJ9ai7CawSNNTiTcIRx2Qo7DEXIS4f" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">source: milanoo.com</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Shoe Shopping</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing beats the rush of finding those pair of shoes that make you sigh in appreciation of the genius behind its design. Never mind that between the chiropractor bills its four-to-six inch heels will probably lead to in future, the six-to-ten times a year you’ll actually wear it and the ridiculous price tag, it makes no sense to buy those shoes. It makes you feel sophisticated, confident, sexy and invincible in a way that is surely worth every penny. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Besides, you reason, it’s the perfect confidence boost for that million dollar interview you have coming up sometime in the future and if your confidence gets you that job, it will more than have paid for itself, no? It’s okay if guys don’t get it. Their shoe designs aren’t as inspired anyways.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSg3gygszuBv8523mRZKKh9LQ7xWtBFAeqqTxoWbQnVW6HzKn29" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSg3gygszuBv8523mRZKKh9LQ7xWtBFAeqqTxoWbQnVW6HzKn29" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">source: glamour.com</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Underwear Shopping</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In all honesty, I much prefer this to shoe shopping and have to exercise more restraint in this type of therapy. This is last only because it doesn’t make as much sense if you have zero to spend. It’s not an easy task finding that elusive bra that is a perfect combination of fun, flirty, pretty and functional. For someone who needs the functional part, this can be quite a challenge. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each time I go underwear shopping, I have a suspicion confirmed; designers don’t bother being creative after a certain size because they reckon your boobs don’t need any help with presentation. Damn you, designers! Who says a girl cannot look nice underneath if no one’s going to see what she has on?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The frills are for me, my dear designers. If a shoe/dress can boost your confidence, a pretty bra can do so much more. Added is the I-know-something-you-don’t thrill. When the girls are happy and look good, one can wear sackcloth and still feel like a million bucks. This is true whether I am an AA or DDD cup. *side-eye at bra designers*<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Conclusion</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I found that I felt so much better after penning this article I didn’t have to go window shopping after all. Whilst retail therapy is a great form of therapy, I would make a poor salesman for the practice. I could say that it’s such an excellent form of therapy even writing about it works. We know better. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So if you’re like me about writing, write a light-hearted article about any topic that is or has been on your mind when you’re feeling down. It doesn’t even have to be related to whatever is causing your present turmoil. My next article should probably be ‘Writing Therapy’… Right now though, I need to make me a cup of tea and get on that assignment. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-81951794427331515242012-01-28T09:33:00.000+00:002012-01-28T09:33:59.410+00:00Letter from the Other Woman III(This is the final part of a three-part story. You can read the first part <a href="http://etoileoye.blogspot.com/2012/01/dear-chrysta-you-do-not-know-me-but-i.html">here</a> , and the second part <a href="http://etoileoye.blogspot.com/2012/01/letter-from-other-woman-ii.html">here</a> ).<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In spite of my growing jealousy, I’d panic every time he would mention that you two were having problems because I didn’t want you two to break up.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Then it would mean that I’d have to decide whether I wanted to be with him for real. And I didn’t want to be with him. By now, I was sure. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Whilst I wish I could say it was because I didn’t want to be a home-wrecker, which I didn’t, it was more because his being with me showed his home was wreck-able.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">And I didn’t want to become another ‘If he cheated with you, he’ll cheat on you’ statistic. Yes, I’m ashamed to say my ambition had been reduced to not becoming a statistic… when I was already one.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Did the shame make a difference? No. There I was counseling Paul back into your arms whenever he was in a place where it seemed he would break up with you… whilst he was in my arms.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">There was I temporarily withdrawing and breaking off communication with him whenever I felt he was getting too attached to me during one of your rough patches, only to run right back when it ended.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Once in a very long while, my near-dead conscience would draw from the last vestiges of its strength and reprimand me. But by now, it was so weak that a roll of my eyes returned it to its comatose state.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It fought valiantly. It just never won. It kicked and screamed when it noticed the time I spent talking with, thinking about, planning for and being with Paul exceeded the time I spent on everything else.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It reminded me that an idol was anything you put before God. I wasn’t even praying much anymore. I listened for a short while, and then gave it a generous dose of Valium.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">What is the point of telling you all this now? Forgive my rambling. Poor man’s therapy, they say. But then again, being the psychologist, you know this more than I.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday, at 19:47 GMT, Paul got down on his knees and asked me to be his wife. He said he had asked you for a divorce and your response had been a resigned “ok”.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He said that your recent miscarriage had made him realize that if a child came into the picture, he would be stuck with you forever and it was me he wanted a forever with.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He said it was the worst acquiescence he had ever obtained and that the loud thud of a broken woman throwing in a towel heavy with her hot tears was not a very pleasant sound.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He said, “The worst part was that I couldn’t even hold her as her frail frame racked with sobs. All I could think was, stop crying so I can go to Gifty”.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;">He looked at me expectantly and I saw his heart sink from his eyes to the bottom of his stomach when he saw the horrified look on my face.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">My comatose conscience miraculously leaped back to life and filled me with remorse deeper than I ever imagined a human could feel. I’d become the woman I said I’d never be; the home-wrecker.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The engagement ring, supposed to be one of the things a girl looks forward to most, slapped me like a glass of ice-cold water poured into one’s face at 4:00am on a cold Harmattan morning.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I sank deeper into the sofa. Good thing I wasn’t standing. Someway, somehow, I found the strength to pick up the ring, put it back in the box, and send him home. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I didn’t see that coming. I guess I should have known when he stopped talking your problems over with me. When he stopped getting angry at things you did.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Or maybe when he told me he loved me and instead of the usual “get away!” I found myself saying “I love you too” and he smiled as if he’d won the biggest ‘try-your-luck’ balloon.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Or perhaps even when he was in that recent car-accident and his siblings and close friends were calling me, not you, to ask how he was doing… but I didn’t.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I had received a transfer letter earlier in the day. I was re-locating to Brussels in three months. I told him I had a surprise when he came over and he said he had one too. His surprise was obviously bigger.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I never thought I’d be the other woman. I read my bible and prayed since I was a little girl. I still blush when a kissing scene comes on and I am not watching the movie alone. I’m no Delilah.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I had the Cinderella dream once upon a time and whilst I realized I’d let go of my happily-ever-after dreams when I turned 17, I never intended to take yours away… and certainly not this way.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I hear Paul never made it home last night. A drunk driver hit him, they said. The one time I decided to do right by you and Paul… and this is how it ends.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">So whilst I’m the last person you’d want to hear from, I needed to confess my pending man-slaughter (I may as well have put a gun to his head if he dies) …and to explain the request for divorce …</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">… and why Paul insists on holding on to an engagement ring as he fights for his life in the ICU.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Gifty</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-87733053588403059902012-01-26T19:49:00.000+00:002012-01-26T19:49:29.009+00:00Letter from the Other Woman II<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">(This is the second part of a story. You can read the first part <a href="http://etoileoye.blogspot.com/2012/01/dear-chrysta-you-do-not-know-me-but-i.html">here</a> ).</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I met Paul at a particularly low point in my life. I had just ‘broken up’ with the love of my life who claimed he loved me to bits but wasn’t good enough to date me. (Yeah, right!)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Of course, kind courtesy of ‘He’s just not that into you’, we all know it’s one of the oldest lines in the ‘Douchebaggery for Dummies’ manual.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I wasn’t looking for a relationship and I wasn’t looking for a fling either. I’m not that kind of girl, you see. Yet that first night, drunk on excitement and cheap wine, we kissed.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I apologized the next time we spoke, telling him I had a boyfriend and so we couldn’t go anywhere although I was sure he was a wonderful chap.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He also apologized and told me he also had a girlfriend so we could never go anywhere. This was you, by the way. It should have been the end of our story. Sadly, it wasn’t.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Many a boy/girl dreams of that friendship which defies all latent and overt sexual tension and remains a platonic, life-long friendship. We found we both had that dream.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Of course we could have been using it as an excuse to stay in touch, chasing the thrill of playing with fire and escaping unscathed. I don’t know. I am not the one with a PhD in psychology. You are.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Paul and I had this amazing conversational chemistry that I hardly find with others. Our phone networks definitely benefited from our virtual time together.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We could talk for four hours without a lull in conversation and resume two hours later groggy from sleep with a good morning text and text back and forth all day. O, the folly of youth! (Wistful smile)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">And so I kept him around, for the witty conversation and friendship, or so I told myself. The lies we tell ourselves so we can sleep at night!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Every lady knows that the guy who can make you laugh more than anyone else in the world has your heart. I found our senses of <span lang="EN-GB">humour</span> were 97% compatible. Enough said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">And so the friendship deteriorated into friendship plus casual make-out sessions where you would disappear and all thoughts of the future would disappear too, for we insisted we didn’t want one together.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Time would however betray our lie. For as many who have tried to divorce biology from psychology have found, the heart, head and hormones rarely stay in their boxes when we separate them.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Whilst I convinced myself that I didn’t care that whenever we were together, he’d have to leave if you called, I found myself getting jealous whenever he left to be with you.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I found myself getting annoyed with him and myself whenever he would pick a call and end it with a smile on his face and it wasn’t you he had been talking to.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;">I guess I had accepted the hierarchy and that you came before me; but refused to share second place with anyone else. The depths to which I had sunk! I was jealously guarding my second-best position. (Stay Tuned) </div></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-3634015659253258392012-01-25T18:51:00.001+00:002012-01-26T19:48:20.222+00:00Letter from the Other Woman IDear Chrysta,<br />
<br />
You do not know me but I know you very well. For whilst he cannot talk to you about me because you do not know I exist, I know you do and so he does.<br />
<br />
I know when you have a bad day and when you get a promotion or raise. I even know when your PMS causes you to snap at him and throw him out of the house.<br />
<br />
No, he does not come to stay with me. He calls but I turn him away. Nature has played this cruel joke on us where our cycles are perfectly synchronized. God has a sense of humor and the joke’s on us (him).<br />
<br />
Oh, where did my manners go? There they are! I guess I should introduce myself. In case you haven’t already guessed, I am the other woman in Paul’s life. Or am I one of them? You never know these days.<br />
<br />
I am not your average ‘other woman’. I am not trying to steal your husband nor get back at my father. I am neither a sex fiend nor exceptionally good in bed. He says you’re much better.<br />
<br />
In fact, many a time, he comes to me complaining how you tired him out in bed, his half-hearted complaints belied by the fact that he is usually grinning like a Cheshire cat. You’re doing it right there.<br />
<br />
My name is Gifty and like the name suggests, I am both gifted and a gift. Lead soprano singer in the choir, Sunday school teacher, CFA, and ladies wing vice-president are a few of the titles I can claim.<br />
<br />
Over the weekend, I volunteer at a school for special needs children. They love me. Everybody does, including your husband but we will come to that.<br />
<br />
If you are shaking your head whilst going through my profile and asking incredulously “…and other woman?” you are right. It does not fit in the picture.<br />
<br />
But like I found out from my childhood obsession with picture puzzles lasting well into my teens, sometimes, not every piece fits... (To be continued)Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-4511478804018713852012-01-21T13:30:00.000+00:002012-01-21T13:30:00.140+00:00Breaking Her Own HeartTears stuck behind her eyelids, Anna blinks, trying to get rid of the foreign material in her eyes. Foreign because tears that wouldn't fall aren't tears; God knows what they were. She lifts her head high and shakes her head, sniffing back more 'tears'. <br />
<br />
She refused to cry, for there was no one but herself to blame for the pain. How would she explain her tears? "I took a knife, stuck it in my own chest and twisted it like a screwdriver?" For that was the naked truth.<br />
<br />
She had broken her heart all by herself. Her head and heart had both said no and yet she had gone ahead and fallen anyway, fallen upon the sharp knife which now wrenched her gut, called it love when it was pure, unadulterated lust.<br />
<br />
But through it all, she smiled. For she had broken a heart she thought she no longer had. And the excrutiating pain at least meant it was still there. Its magnitude showed the insurmountable joy she could one day feel<br />
<br />
And so she smiled through the 'tears' that would not fall. They'd fall when joy arrived. They'd fall as tears of joy. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Or so she <strike>hoped</strike> prayed)</span>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-20945164173628019822011-12-21T07:53:00.000+00:002011-12-21T07:53:01.771+00:00Traditions...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VywxSfWgR44/TvGIDFJEnFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/rHpDlZSizqw/s1600/trad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VywxSfWgR44/TvGIDFJEnFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/rHpDlZSizqw/s1600/trad.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We all have them. We like some, and are not particularly fond of others. We had some thrust upon us with centuries, decades or years of history behind them; and we create others. And there are certain traditions we never notice becoming traditions until circumstance or forgetfulness hinders us from doing them and we go through the rest of the day feeling like something is missing.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">One such 'tradition' for me is getting a caramel frappachino from Starbucks every time I’m at an airport. I never noticed this sneaking up on me because I was formerly of the rigid stance that I would never succumb to the Starbucks craze. In all honesty, I am of the genre of coffee drinkers who will never notice if you gave them the finest of brews today and switched it tomorrow. Unless it has an unusual smell or is too acidic for my poor stomach, it is coffee like all the others.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I had to be coerced and have my drink paid for to try my first caramel frap. And yet, today, I find myself going great lengths to a find Starbucks every time I’m in an airport. I rationalize the calories away with the insignificant number of times I travel per annum. And there’s no way to describe how the first sip feels, nor the warmth I feel enjoying my frappachino (although I usually get it cold). </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It’s become my very own tradition. Wherever I find myself, it’s a little piece of familiarity that I can count on. It’s like that familiar face in the midst of a strange crowd. No matter how big, busy, or labyrinthic an airport is, in my cup of caramel frappachino, I find the comfort of familiarity. And it makes me feel at home. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Do you have any such tradition? I’d like to hear about it.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fC_h-5wDgi0/TvGIFlRyUGI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Qwa8wXgFVCs/s1600/carfra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fC_h-5wDgi0/TvGIFlRyUGI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Qwa8wXgFVCs/s1600/carfra.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-33963729509142450802011-11-28T05:39:00.000+00:002011-11-28T05:39:48.747+00:00"Guard your heart above all else, for out of it flows the issues of life"How many times have I heard this verse (Proverbs 4:23) and rolled my eyes? I've heard it so many times that I complete the sentence when it's started and we all know that means I'm not listening or taking that in, I'm just acknowledging it's there. <br />
<br />
Today, that verse took on a whole new meaning for me. A friend recounted a story that left a bitter taste in my mouth; her neighbor was murdered by her husband when she asked for a separation after years of abuse. <br />
<br />
The man insisted on dropping her off at her mother's because she was going with his children and he wanted to make sure they were safe. He stopped in the middle of nowhere and said the car had a problem and that he needed her help changing something in the back. It was a two hour drive to her mother's place and the children had fallen asleep in the back. When she got out, he knocked her unconscious, tied her up, and placed her on a pile of corn stalks that had been gathered in preparation to be burnt. He then set fire to the pile and left her for dead. <br />
<br />
After that, he dropped the children off about a block from his wife's mother's place knowing that the nosiness of village neighbours would ensure they got to their grandma's. The children were still asleep (they were three and five years old). <br />
<br />
Long story short, the woman was found when the smoke from the fire alerted neighbours. The corn stalks were not completely dry and so smoked a lot. She died after a week at the hospital. She told her story before dying. <br />
<br />
Her children made it to their grandma's and the old lady's search for her daughter led to her finding out about the fire. <br />
<br />
The man went to his family and told them he came home from work to find out the woman had run away with the children and that the woman had threatened suicide several times so he was worried and wanted them(his mum and sisters) to go check with his in-laws if his wife had come home. <br />
<br />
The police followed his mom and sisters back and arrested him. Sadly, nothing they do to him will bring her back. <br />
<br />
Some people make wrong choices about whom to entrust their hearts to and suffer heartache, etc. Some pay with their lives and/or souls. <br />
<br />
Whom you decide to love and/or marry is not about who makes your friends the most envious of your good fortune or who can make your toes curl in bed. It's also a choice of how good the rest of your life will be, and sometimes as we've seen, how long that rest of your life will be. <br />
<br />
As the New Living Translation puts it, "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life".Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-88457661803691846992011-11-14T18:11:00.000+00:002011-11-14T18:11:47.217+00:00Risky Business (A Mother's Pain)<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Everyone’s heard about the pain of motherhood, but the tales from the delivery room don’t begin to cover it. As I held my daughter who was trying with herculean effort to contain her racking sobs, I understood more than ever the utter pain and despair of a mother who would give anything to take her child’s pain away and yet couldn't.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think back to a happier day, the day my husband, by custom, slaughtered a fattened ram to celebrate the birth of our tenth born. I remember the smiles of my own mother, and the pride I felt at having nine children dressed in white, seated at my feet with the tenth in my arms, contentedly suckling at my breast, validating my womanhood.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, I had buried six out of the ten, and my husband had taken the lead into the afterworld. And as I sat in the sterile room consoling my daughter as my grand-daughter fought what was by all indication, a losing battle against cancer, I knew the exact measure of that pain.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My daughter was an insurance expert; risk management was right up there in her alley. And yet when it came to the greatest risk of all, she was just as unprotected as the rest of the world. I remember when her husband was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan days after her daughter was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma. My broken daughter looked up to me in despair and asked. “Why is there no insurance against such pain when you can insure your fingernails if you so desired?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;">I’d had no answer for her then. And I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">didn't</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 115%;"> have any for myself now. I too had been dealt no better cards in the gamble that is motherhood. I always believed the greatest gamble we took with our hearts was falling in love. Now I realize that while it’s true, it’s not the love that drives us to the altar, but the love that wells up when we’re handed that new-born baby that was the costliest chip.</span></span></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-20405408902184099092011-10-17T01:31:00.000+00:002011-10-17T01:31:40.488+00:00Will we be able to feed 9 billion people in 2050?<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #660000; font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ever since Rev. Malthus's theory of population failed to produce the projected results, it has become mighty hard for people to be moved by 'The sky is falling' prophecies. It's amazing how many current surveys of society's perception of climate change, show that most people just don't believe it's an issue. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Perhaps they are right. Most people in the field of energy will never suggest that the world is going to run out of energy. Energy economists, for instance, will stand by the theory of price. There are many energy sources available to us which are not viable today because of the costs of extraction and processing. When oil becomes scarce enough driving up it's price, alternatives like wind, solar, nuclear and wave energy which are just not being exploited their fullest potential in many places, will step in. Oil trapped in the tar sands of Canada (the largest reserve of petroleum in the world outside of Saudi Arabia) will be extracted. Crisis Averted.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So why should they listen when it comes to food? Well, because there are no known substitutes for food. And whilst we can give up our second cars, air-conditioning, etc. We just cannot give up food. We would die. Given my preamble, I guess it makes sense that I focus on not whether we can feed 9 billion people in 2050, but how. Whilst a lot of the measures require government action, I will focus on what you and I can do to help food security, and the environment.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cut down on beef</span></span></li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I live in the desert. Water is an issue we are constantly grappling with. And yet 70% of consumptive water is used in cattle rearing. Previously, I would have balked at the statistic "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">It takes 24 liters of water to produce one hamburger". Today, I am more than willing to believe. Between cultivating hundreds of thousands of acres to feed them, cleaning them and cleaning up after them, processing them, etc. Cattle take up a lot of water. Keep your consumption of beef to the minimum. Substitute with chicken, fish (and surprisingly better on the environment), even pork. The resources spent on feeding them alone; water, land, time, etc. can all go towards growing food for humans; you and me. E</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">at fewer animal products. Grain and soya beans should be saved for people, and animals should only be kept on land which is too poor for crops.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Minimize waste</span></span></span></li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Accorging to Hervé Guyomard of INRA (French National Institute for Agricultural Research), food amounting to 800 calories is lost per person per day</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> as waste in richer nations. S</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">ave leftovers for the next day, eat bread crusts, stalks of vegetables such as broccoli, cauliflower, etc.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Buy Local</span></span></span></li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Apart from the organic benefits of farmers' markets, etc., cosmetic requirements for food sold in supermarkets lead to a lot of farm produce going waste because they are too small, too big, oddly shaped, etc. for 'commercial' purposes. Make a walk of it. Meet your local farmers, haggle prices, your food will taste twice as nice knowing you did the environment and yourself some good.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why not start with these and see how it goes? The truth is, we will probably not have 9 billion people to feed in 2050 if we all continue living like we are. If we did, we probably won't be able to feed them if they had our current dietary preferences or worse. (i.e. given ecological and technological constraints). The impact of 9 billion people on resources depends a lot on what we eat, now and then. Are you going to do something about YOUR contribution?</span></span></span></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-57928679305795098442011-09-14T14:41:00.000+00:002011-09-14T14:41:44.962+00:00Unintentional Suicide...When she said no, she meant no! But the terror in her eyes excited him. 'Today, you'll pay for every blue-ball episode' He said. A look of confusion washed across the terror on the screen of emotions that was her face.<br />
<br />
He saw it and said 'Let me remind you'. As he described her honest-to-God I'm scared of guys look as a come-hither look, her modest dressing as seductive veiling of her voluptuous body, she lost all desire to protect him.<br />
<br />
Let him rape her as her AIDS-ridden neighbour had done when she was but a wee lass of eight. Since her fear excited him, she kept the look of terror on her face, veiling the venomous hate she felt.<br />
<br />
Let him enjoy her terror, get high on her cries and pain. Then let him die slowly, as she was.<br />
He hadn't even batted an eyelid when she'd told him it was that time of the month...Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-57602126175017601822011-09-02T04:32:00.000+00:002011-09-02T04:32:53.746+00:00Would you rather insure... or invest?Earlier this week I watched a video that reminded me of something I've been thinking a lot about lately... <a href="http://t.co/0KafgUD">This video by Charlie Chaplin</a> had a lot of salient points and although I may not have understood or agreed 100% with all of it, the one thing that struck me was our human-ness and how helping another soul in need is integral to who we are as humans.<br />
<br />
In today's evolving society and with the ever-increasing depths of evil the human mind can conceive and get the rest of the body to co-operate in carrying out, it's easy to make excuses to NOT help those in need. Family does not look out for you anymore, friends let you down, and as for lovers (whether at the dating or marriage level), the less said about them, the better.<br />
<br />
However, as I walked to class today, I thought about how reaching out to another in need is like an investment and how many of us choose to buy insurance instead. I am not a finance person so my analogy is quite basic here. Don't think too far if that is your field.<br />
<br />
When we help another, we invest and a lot could happen to our investment. The financial markets may crash, a corrupt board of directors may squander our hard earned cash, or we could realize our investment was a scam, pure and simple. On the other hand, we could strike oil and make it big. If the person you help decides to bite the finger that fed it, it's a bad investment. Otherwise, you get your dividends, in cash and in kind(get your minds out of the gutter).<br />
<br />
When we do NOT help, we could liken it to buying insurance in that we get to keep and safeguard what belongs to us against uncertainty. Definitely, insurance isn't 100% safe because claims could be denied, etc. but for the most part, we keep and protect what we have.<br />
<br />
It seems sometimes that we are all buying insurance. I am guilty. Everyone is protecting what they have and not paying any forward. Whilst wealth may be preserved this way, none is created.<br />
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I pray that for the rest of the year and onward, we will all have the grace needed to make <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">prudent</span></b> investments with our time, our voice, our talents and capabilities, our support, encouragement, and material possessions when need be.<br />
<br />
It's not easy, given how treacherous humans (remember this includes ourselves) can be. However it is easy when we think about the fact that we will carry none of these to the other side. When we die, our talents, money, etc. wont go with us. But the good we did with them may be paid forward into what awaits us in the afterlife. And I believe if we truly look hard enough, we'll find that more often than not, investments pay off in this life as well.<br />
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Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81325045888657241.post-73439892920419697402011-08-26T05:37:00.000+00:002011-08-26T05:37:47.083+00:00A Dream Deferred...(more like abandoned)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #5b2a08; font-family: Calibri, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"></span><br />
<div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">What happens to a dream deferred?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Does it dry up l</strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bc9461;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">ike a raisin in the sun?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Or fester like a sore– </strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bc9461;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">And then run?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Does it stink like rotten meat?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bc9461;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Or crust and sugar over– </strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bc9461;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">like a syrupy sweet?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Maybe it just sags </strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bc9461;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">like a heavy load.</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Or does it explode?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">~ Langston Hughes</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Yesterday was a bitter-sweet day. A number of my friends and classmates from High school graduated from the Ghana Law school. </strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I have mentioned on this blog (I think) that growing up, I probably went through crushes on all the professions there were. </strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Law was my longest-lasting crush...</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">So yesterday, I congratulated my friends and then sat to re-evaluate my life, a tad wistful. </strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I never gave law a chance. It held my fancy the longest out of all my professional crushes and yet I never even went out for drinks with it.</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">You know that cute guy/girl you fancied and never dated but will always smile wistfully whenever you see them with another? </strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">No matter how happy you are with your partner?</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I love what I'm studying now and given the chance to do it again, I probably still wont choose law. </strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I'm excited to finish school and get my hands on impacting the world with all I am learning.</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">But for me, law will probably always remain, that cute boy/girl you see or remember and wonder,</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">'What if?' even if you don't want them anymore...</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</strong></span></div><div id="_mcePaste" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #bc9461; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Do you have a 'What if'?</strong></span></div>Etoile Oyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09309344971784267369noreply@blogger.com5