Will Cinderella ever dance with her prince...?

I have decided to go celibate.

Sounds so far-fetched and apropos of nothing, right? But it is actually apropos of everything that has been happening in my life since last June- or is it August? All the shit I didn't post about especially when I was considering giving up the blog.

And being a girl... (yuck, I hate that I am saying this, rather using the preceding phrase! still...) it has to do with a boy. Everything including the decision to go celibate has to do with one guy.

I am an extremist and I am one of those "romantic" girls that would say, "If I can't have you, I don't want anyone else." More like try-to-destroy-my-life before I came to this "epiphanic" conclusion!

I could go into the whole complicated details but I won't because the twist and turns would only bore you. But I will say one thing though, there is nothing like a good heartbreak or almost heartbreak to help change your view about life and bring you back to your senses.

I used to say I will never get married. The boy (or man) was all part of that decision because like I said I wanted only him and if I couldn't have him, what's the whole bleeding point! Just to be with him everyday and revel in his friendship is all good for me and since I am one of the very few in this country that realise that life can be as brief as a flash of lightening in the sky, I try to maximise that brief time I have with "my friend."

Still I feared everyday that that friendship would be taken away from me while I was still living but not by death- by some "soulmate" that has no business being anything of the sort! I feared. I feared. I really feared.

And last year, that fear almost came to being like Dracula rising out of his coffin to terrorise the night. I almost died. I fell sick, I cried for two weeks and ran to Enugu to be with Daddy.

Then, suddenly, "the fear" disappeared as unceremoniously as it had come and so finitely like it never was to begin to be with.

Still the shadow of it lurks around as my dream is yet to sniff the whisper of a breath of reality.

I die.

I am so in love and so in fear.

So I dedicate my sexuality to God in the hope that my dream might come through. It's a sacrifice filled with so much meaning for me and only God can understand this. I give this so that the possibility that I might get that would be magnified a thousand fold and may one day become a reality.

Do fairytales really exisit?

And as for "my boy". His is the name I chant as I dedicate a lifetime to my "prayer".

Dreams do come true after all... right?

Tresor catches the football fever- SHOCK!

It's the World Cup and I have got the fever. I know... I hate football, right?!

But, you guys, you can't blame me for joining the long list of people out to make money from "the biggest event on African soil." So glad for HiTV that they won that war with the illegal viewing centers else the list would have been way much longer.

For me however, it's all thanks to Tweeter that I am thriving in this my venture. The idea just hit me like where ideas have often hit the most creative and innovative people in since the world began ("thank you. thank you." *bowing deeply*) - in the butt while shatting on the toilet seat, I mean shitting in the toilet.

Bam! And I jumped as a big one dropped out of my behind. Splash! And just like that the idea came.

The Roomates and co- you know the whole members of the free-loaders-on-game-nights club- have to unfortunately be at work during most of the times that the games air on TV. And even though they all work at serious jobs, none of them is that rich or high-up in the company to take a month off to go to SA to watch the games or to even get tickets to the games for that matter (Ouch!). Well, except for one, KC who happens to be the richest amongst them and ironically the biggest freeloader. He doesn't bring as much as a can of beer when he comes to watch league matches at the Fame lodge.

I quit my post NYSC job early this year determined to follow my dream of becoming a (starving) writer. So far I am getting there faster than expected so when the Roomate and friends asked me to tweet World Cup updates to them, I said, "Hell no-way am I doing it for free!"

So they all paid a certain amount each (which I am not disclosing) so yours truly can sit in front of a TV and watch a football game- ugh! *throw up*

This was before they found out that most opportunistic, over-do and over-sabi news providers were providing the service for free on the same Tweeter eg: @234next. But unfortunately for them, money wey enter pocket...

It also didn't help that I did not know shit about football and often sent them tweets like these

- Shit! He just missed that!
- Who? Who? -(would come the reply)
-The no 14 shirt.
- On which team?
- The guys wearing yellow and green.

or after going to the kitchen to get a snack, I will come back to notice that someone had scored and tweet:
- Someone just scored.

You can go ahead and guess the replies to that.

Soon they were all unsubscribing and going onto better services, like I cared until some idiot started asking for his money back- like I was going to give him. One paltry sum like that! Mehn, some guys are cheap!

Sha, Sha, eventually, the Roomate and Femi refusing to be conned insisted I continue doing my "job"- "Because we paid!" *hiss*

Also Iwas challenged by the effrontery of the idiots who had dared to dump my "services".

So right now, guess who knows what a eighteen yard box is? Duh, the goal area!

And then I even know when and why the referee calls an offside and above all I can recognise a red card. Yes, it is this rectangular red card that the referee raises when for instance some unpatriotic idiot with a head like a monkey and wearing a green jersey tries to kick another guy who was hugging the ball too close to his chest and wearing a white jersey, in the balls.

See, I told y'all that I've caught the fever.

But for all y'all aspiring to my post as President of the I HATE FOOTBALL CLUB FOR GIRLS, think again!

I plan on continuing with the hate after this time out!