Monthly Archives: May 2015

Thoughts, on turning thir…cough! cough! cough! Excuse me.

I am still looking for where I mislaid my original nose, but it’s okay. I’m sure wherever it is, my pre-pregnancy waistline is keeping it company.

Piña Colada can be a breakfast drink if you have it with eggs. And you don’t drive. On that note, it is perfectly fine to be a bit buzzed at school run. Just don’t try to make conversation. That thing you think is so hilarious probably isn’t. You’re buzzed. Go home.

Writing is the best gig ever!

Writing is the worst gig ever.

I don’t shave my legs. Deal with it.

Ditto armpits. Yes, I realise our friendship may now be in jeopardy.

These are my parents:

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My dad likes having his picture taken.
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My mum hates having her picture taken.

I feel I have been smarter than I currently am. But I have never been poorer than I currently am. Both things can be fixed, which means I am very lucky.

I hope to not be living in this country next year because I am a bit tired and there is a whole lot of world to see. However, I will miss the NHS.

Save the NHS!

Why is IS destroying everything?!!

I’d like to build my house from mud. Like those mosques in Djenne. Or like our ancestors’ houses. I already have an architect.

I really like the name Mehitobel and have been wanting to give it to a character. Except she’s a demon, my character.

I wish I had spare robotic eyes that I could switch my human eyes out with so that I can read all the books I want and never have to sleep ever.

I inherited my grandma’s glasses. She had all her teeth. I should have asked to get those too. Clone myself a little baby Mama Onitsha.

I’ve been working on a story for three days. I finished it yesterday. Now I have two stories.

HAHAHA.

HOHOHO.

Where’s my jumper? Oh no.

Cheers to the frickin' weekend.
Cheers to the frickin’ weekend.
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Look, eh. In fact, I have no words.

I woke up suddenly around 5.50 am. Two minutes later I could not move for the cobweb of question marks entangling me in bed. People were congratulating me on twitter. What for? I thought ‘Must be some sort of mistake’ as you do. Had I been tweeting while under the influence again? (Damn you, coffee-flavoured rum from Mauritius!)

Nope. I’d been nominated for the 2014 Shirley Jackson awards in the category of short fiction!

ABOUT THE AWARDS.

My shock lasted about a minute. Then, as I started to respond to goodwill tweets, the crone that lives in my head cackled. “Lookie here, lookie here. Think she something, lounging around like the Queen of Sheba. Git up, clean yo damn house. It’s filthy. And fix that boy something to eat. You ain’t even finished a chapter since yesterday. Git yo ass up, girl. You ain’t shit!”

Hmmm. Perhaps I was channelling Mama Keating there.

In spite of her, I am honoured to be nominated – have you seen that list??! I’ll cherish this nom always. It’s my first one.

Please hunt down and read as many of the nominated works as you can. What better way to spend the weekend? I am going to be doing so, as soon as I get my chapter done or Mama Keating will wreck me.

Here’s a link to my nominated story, ‘Candy Girl’.

ALUTA CONTINUA! Have a lovely weekend!