Tag Archives: rant

Having To Choose

Hi guys. It’s been a while.

I wrote a piece over on fvdedcollective.com titled ‘Bursaries and Virginities’ and it’s my response to a report about a university in South Africa offering bursaries to female students who remain celibate and undergo regular testing to ensure they are sticking to the terms of the agreement. You can check it out here. I feel like I’m not done talking about it yet because it really is a segue into a lot of deeper issues that weigh on my mind a lot of the time. I was angry when I wrote that post but now I feel like I can reason a bit better.

I was talking to a few of my friends in university about this and almost all of them said they would accept this bursary and the aforementioned testing just because they were already virgins and they didn’t plan on having sex before graduating from university anyway. But what I didn’t get is why they didn’t get that this whole situation was the biggest pile of shit in the first place. So I guess this is what I would say to them if they would listen to me and my words flowed as naturally as they do when I’m sitting in front of a computer screen.

I understand wanting to remain celibate as much as I understand wanting to have sex and I understand wanting to have an education and not having the funds for it at the time. I understand why this could seem appealing but I don’t understand why one has to choose. I don’t understand why sex has to be used as a weapon against a woman or anyone.

At the end of the day, I am a human being first. I am an intellectual being, I am a sexual being. I feel things, I want things. I have the capability to be anything I want with everything that I am. We are all sexual beings so why is sex something that I have to choose? It’s the choice that irritates me. It’s the fact that I have to choose between wanting to expand my mind or taking part in this fundamental act of life. It’s this notion that all I present to you is what’s between my legs and nothing more. Why can’t I have the possibility of both?

The reasoning behind this bursary was to minimise the spread of STDs and unwanted pregnancies and all that jazz. But do these things happen on their own? Do I click my fingers and demand to have chlamydia or have a foetus grow inside of me? It takes two to tango. Everyone is super quick to point the finger at females in almost all cases that involve sex. Be it rape, be it harassment, anything that involves consent or sex itself going wrong, females are seen as the problem and 9 times out of 10, I bet a female didn’t bring any of the issues on to herself. No one has stopped to consider the problem could stem from a male?

There are basics rights as a human being and from all I see and from what I know, the experiences of a female in this day and age are inexplicably tied to her sexuality. And it saddens me. We are so much more, we are not just sex. Too many times, I hear women saying they need to change what they are to change the outcome of situation that involves a member of the opposite sex. We have to do all the work or we need to be the defining factor. In my head, inequality is tied to the saying “from who much is given, much is required”. My one sole question that I will continue to ask is “why?” Yes, we are a bundle of intricacies and we do so much for the world but we’re not the only ones here. I just wish I knew why it was always down to women to be the sacrificial lamb in almost all situations.

Georgina ❤

Songs of the Week

And of course, The Life of Pablo but Kanye’s being difficult so either subscribe to Tidal or download it somewhere. It’s great. It’s in my top 3 Kanye albums, I’m not ashamed to say it.

Please, Stop Talking

I know I said I wouldn’t talk about boys but listen: I have no choice, I have to or else, there’s simply no way for me to articulate what I have to say, I apologise.

Let me first state the obvious: we are all entitled to an opinion. Whether we are asked to vocalise it is one thing but we all think things, there’s nothing anyone can do about that. What pisses me off is being on the receiving end of these completely unwarranted opinions and then having to receive the backlash of not agreeing with said person’s opinion.

Now, back to our regular scheduled programme.

There is an individual in my class who has taken an acute interest in my outward appearance and it’s grinding my gears. Really, really, grinding. I’m really over this notion that a woman can only wear makeup or decide to put an effort into her outfit or whatever and it automatically has to be for “the man”. If I say it is, then it is. If I don’t, who the hell do you think you are assuming it’s all for you?

It first started with a few hit and miss comments here and there like “Oh, who have you dressed up for then?” and “You look really pretty today, what’s happening?” Not only were these little sayings utterly unwarranted, they were backhanded as hell. So every other day, I look like trash or? Pardon? Then came the one that really just sent me over the cliff. Wait for it:

“If you wore makeup everyday, you would be perfect.”

Now, let’s take a moment to consolidate what this statement actually means, let’s break it all the way down. Let’s delve into the mind of this utterly filterless, brainless, sack of idiocy and try and decipher what this one-liner meant:

Your God-given, natural, bare face is inadequate for me to even consider finding you attractive (or looking at you or dating you, I have no bloody clue) and I have decided that it is makeup and makeup alone that can solve this conundrum. You have to look appealing to me at all times, so do it. Now.

Ladies and gentlemen, are you shaking your heads with me right now? Believe me when I say I didn’t take this comment lying down, oh no. It would have been a disservice to womanhood if I let such a thing come out of his mouth and leave it unchecked. But what gets to me above all of this is simply the fact that he didn’t get where he was wrong. He didn’t get that he couldn’t say stuff like that to me or to anyone and think it was okay.

This issue of male entitlement, I don’t think it can ever be solved. I think it’s a neurological thing, a difference in brain chemistry because it’s too damn common to just be down to conceitedness. I don’t understand how every little showcase of self-love has to be attributed to me wanting to please a member of the opposite sex. That’s not all I am, that’s not the entirety of what women are here to do. There are a gazillion and one intricacies that make me up but for some reason, a boy just wants to see it all as me wanting to impress him?

Here’s the big question: why do you feel this is so? Do you pay my rent or do you buy my groceries? Do you stay up all night and memorise chemistry mechanisms for me? Do you even care about my wellbeing, physically or even mentally? Are we emotionally invested in each other? Do you have anything to do with me besides sitting in the same classroom as me? Yet you just want to think every little iota of my appearance is based on warding off or attracting attention from the likes of you. You want to reduce me into nothing more but a billboard on legs, because that’s all it is, right? Give me a break.

I keep saying this and I will always say it: ladies, do you. I can’t stress this enough. Nobody can govern you, no one can police you. I know the privilege of self-expression isn’t as easy for some as it is for others but one day, I hope and pray, that a world will exist where women can do whatever the hell they want without having to explain or justify themselves. Until then, crush comments like the ones I’ve mentioned above and just generally tell people to shut up.

Love, your highly irritated friend,

Georgina ❤

Songs of The Week

My Little “I Have A Dream” Moment.

Do you ever just think? Or better yet, daydream?

I spend a lot of time on public transport, you know this. If I don’t have a book in my hands, it’s because I think it’s time to do some mind wandering. This is the book I’m reading right now.

Excuse the condition of the book. I do this to a lot of my books, especially if it's taking forever to finish. I feel the books, get all cosy with it, it's bound to suffer in the process.

Excuse the condition of the book. I do this to a lot of my books, especially if it’s taking forever to finish. I feel the book, get all cosy with it, it’s bound to suffer in the process.

It’s about four people, in Paris, in the seventies, all entwined by knowing one or the other, all affected by the “breakout” of homosexuality and AIDS in France. I picked it up in Waterstones for £2, I think. It’s heavily philosophical but slow and steady wins the race. Just trying something new.

Anywho, when I daydream, I daydream hard. Things that haven’t happened yet, things that might never happen, things that I hope to happen: I am a self-proclaimed dreamer. Your imagination is the only happy thing, really. It is what you make it and I try to make it… exciting. I conjure up things that are supposed to be the Universe’s surprises to me, the turtle out of the sky but no, I foreshadow so much, it’s very unlikely that anything will ever be able to surprise me because, I’m simply on it. (Note, this is untrue. I’ve tried to imagine what meeting Beyoncé would be like but never did I imagine what meeting Danny Dyer, best known for his portrayal as Mick Carter in EastEnders, would be like. My hand was quaking, I think I experienced hyperventilation for the first time but boy, did that man smell good. Damn.)

I think about who I could be, think about where my life is going and what it holds, whether the morals I have laid out for myself still hold true and whether they can still hold.

I think about how my academic life took the biggest U-turn ever and I wonder what I’m actually doing. But, a memory crops up. I remember saying I wouldn’t want to be a dentist forever, I’d much rather go into research and be the brains behind something innovative. Well, look at me now. I’m doing a degree that is almost entirely based on research and who knows, I could be the one. I don’t know what for but it could be me.

Some days, I think about what it’s like to be that girl who can tweet her opinion on an album and not sound like a total fake, I know half of you are like what is she talking about, can she even understand what rap is? I want to have a gazillion followers who retweet whatever I come up with because it’s utter genius.

I think about sex, as you do. I think about what it’s been like so far, why it’s such a big deal, how necessary it is, how it hurt, how it’s the best thing you and another human being, that you love, can physically do together. Stop squirming, it’ll happen to you soon enough.

I think about how odd different cultures are, how unwilling people are to break free from their groups and integrate. I crave knowledge, it is the very thing that keeps me going. Every day I learn something new, I want to grow mentally and that involves mixing. Why stagnate and continuously stick to the plain old, same old that will eventually, turn your brain to mush? My best friend is an Indian Muslim. I have friends who are Sikhs, Hindus, Christians, atheists, barely there Christians, from all four corners of this globe. The other day, I was thinking about the number of languages I can say hello in: 10 and counting. I am a citizen of the world, why wouldn’t I want to be connected to it in every way possible?

I think about my own faith and how I’ve barely scratched the surface in my journey with God. I think of all the questions I have and how, one day, I will be satisfied. I think about how people see the God in me and whether I am utilising the talents given to me to His standard, I suppose. Even though I don’t use this blog to shove Christianity down your throats, I think I’m doing something positive. All I’ve ever wanted to do, for as long as I can remember, is to impact a life, in any way. Be it significant, insignificant, monumentally, for a millisecond or for eternity, I want to be the cause behind an emotional response in a person. I want to be the catalyst to something in someone and I honestly think God put this blog upon my heart to help me fulfil this nugget that seems to be the driving force behind every little thing I do.

I think about the day when every negative –ism of this world will not exist, when people will open their eyes and realise how stupid it is to have a hatred towards another human being. I mean, we are all human beings, aren’t we? Jeez.

I’m turning into Martin Luther King Jr. I guess we all have a little MLK in us all.

Mini Rant of the Week

There’s been this Instagram screenshot of a woman breastfeeding her child circulating on Twitter that, obviously, has people talking but they are, obviously, talking for all the wrong reasons. Why is nudity such a big deal to people when it’s not directly benefiting them? If it was porn, God knows this wouldn’t be an issue but the second a woman captures a moment that is as natural and as necessary as the air we breathe, it’s the biggest sin. I have seen opinions like “was that really necessary?” or “so is this ok now?” and “why would she share that?” and I’m just over here wondering what demon has descended upon all these useless people. It is a woman. Feeding her child. Why the fuck is this something that people even care about? You were all BREASTFED. What do you think breasts are for? To be stared at? For decoration? To be fondled at night during foreplay? They are fundamental biological tools given to women to provide all the necessary nutritional building blocks to babies. If people find a woman feeding her child insulting, God help us all. It’s things like this that make me want to give up on humanity, honestly.

Quote of the Week

"Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life." - Omar Khayyam

“Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.” – Omar Khayyam

Song of the Week

Haven’t listened to anything else but To Pimp A Butterfly so… https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/to-pimp-a-butterfly/id974187289

Georgina ❤

Guide to Survival for a 21st Century Pre-Adult

In no particular order, of course.

1.Open Your Mouth: if you don’t say what you want or say what’s on your mind, no one will hear you. There is no such thing as mind-reading and people can be surprisingly oblivious to body language. Speak. You have a mouth, use it. It will get you places, I can guarantee it.

2. The Second Law of Motion: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Think about it. (It’s actually the Third Law, as Arch-Lancer Udofa graciously pointed out.)

3. Believe in your slay, obviously.

4. Heart & Mind: understand that it is perfectly okay to care about someone and not be attached to them. Be it a friend, an ex, an estranged family member: it’s fine. You’re not abnormal. It happens. It’s just healthier to be apart from some people but they will always have a special place in your heart. Just keep it in there.

5. Expand Your Horizon: it really irritates me and I’m pretty sure it irritates you when people think life exists in the 4 walls they’ve created for themselves. Don’t be those people: watch the news despite how disheartening it is most of the time; listen to a different genre of music once in a while (hint: listen to my damn songs of the week, jeez); read a book; watch a documentary; go to a museum; put down your phone and appreciate the world we’ve been blessed to live in. Notice, appreciate and consciously decide to acquire more to appreciate.

6. Here’s a bucket-load of Responsibility: so you’re probably 18 or just about there. There are people at this age who are married, who have kids, who don’t live off the Bank of Mum & Dad. I’m not one of those people, my parents are my lifeline but don’t think excuses are going to get you anywhere: plan yourself; don’t say dumb shit like “I woke up late” if you get to class late and wonder why the lecturer gets pissed at you; prioritise if having a decent life matters to you; budget (to my peeps living alone, I honestly salute you all). Have fun moderately, work moderately and life will be a breeze.

7. Chill, don’t be so quick to react. Wisdom is not achieved by smacking someone in the face or verbally assaulting someone who rubs you up the wrong way. Take a deep breath, contemplate and see whether it’s worth it. And if it is, tear the bitch to shreds, you savage.

8. Talk: it’s almost like the first point but it’s different, of course. Don’t allow your emotional products to accumulate. It’s like reacting marble chips with sulphuric acid, you’ll get carbon dioxide and if you use a stopper during this reaction, you will eventually get a glass shard in your eye: it will explode. Avoid exploding, talk about it to someone or something (i.e. a journal, a blog, a wall if you’re into that kind of thing). Everyone needs someone, it can’t be helped. We are human after all.

9. Don’t be an asshole: I think this is just as basic as saying please and thank you. Don’t be rude; don’t abandon people who have helped you get to where you are: I accept you outgrow people but don’t just discard them, it’s wrong. Be the person you would like to be friends with.

10. If you want something, go and get it: having your hand held does not apply for us anymore. You are the pilot of your own life, there is no one else to blame but you if an opportunity passes you by. Do it.

11. It’s okay to not be a trendsetter, not all of us can be trailblazers. Don’t think you’re any less significant because you like to be a trend-follower every now and again. Just don’t become the trends. Be you in the midst of it all.

12. Moisturise: no one wants to see your ashy self. Vaseline, befriend it, slather your lips in it.

Yes, I’m serious, Kanye. Ashy has never been in style. NEVER.

Congratulations, you’re now well on your way and adulthood is within your reach. Keep your head high, focus on what’s ahead of you and voila, you’re in there.

Rant of the Week (yes, I’m ranting, at last): So, is everyone aware of this whole Kylie Jenner and Tyga debacle that everyone seems to have an opinion about? Well, here’s mine: mind your business. Nowadays, people get way too emotionally invested in matters that have absolutely nothing to do with them. I’ve seen tweets of people saying Tyga should be arrested or he’s abusing her or this or that, blah. It shouldn’t concern you, are you Kylie’s mouthpiece? Even if she is dating him: a) It would be perfectly legal in the UK (legal age is 16, there were talks of them lowering it to 14, mind you) so think about it, why is it legal here and not in the US? b) I don’t blame her, maybe he treats her right, a lot of fuckboys exist in the 16-18 age bracket, didn’t you know?

All I’m saying, why should anyone give a damn? No one’s getting hurt, don’t see why you should be bursting a blood vessel over something that has nothing to do with you. I didn’t see myself ever writing about this but I guess I just did. Boom.

Tweet of the Week: 

Song of the Week: Pharrell – Angel (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOlFDd1pfI8)

Have an amazeballs week, guys. Thank you for your continuous support 🙂

Georgina ❤

Big Sister Duties

I have a little brother, for those of you who do not know. That’s him, the tablet (discussing this later) and myself here.


I like having a little brother, I wouldn’t trade that for the world but there are days when I wish I wasn’t the oldest.

In Nigerian households, age determines pretty much everything. I’m the eldest grandchild on both sides of the equation. You know how it is, all your little cousins are instructed to call you auntie and if your relatives are really Nigerian (thankfully, this isn’t the case for me), the little boys will start prostrating for you and the little girls will start curtseying too. It is mortifying, let me just tell you that. I am an activist when it comes to kids doing that to me. I’m still a kid as well so who am I to demand respect in that way?

This is someone’s engagement day and this is what Nigerian men prostrating looks like. It is elaborate. Image courtesy – see image (duh)


Anyway, being the oldest can be a drag some days. You are the pinnacle, you are the golden example. You slip up and you are partially responsible for the (possible) failures of those who fall behind you. It’s a big deal. If your youngers are messing up, you need to get their asses back in line because you’re letting the troop down. When I finally got in to university, I got phone calls from everyone, congratulatory messages flew in from all directions. My uncles reminded me that I was indeed the oldest and I was leading all my cousins down the right path. No pressure.

Yesterday, my brother f*cked up. My dad bought him a tablet for his birthday this year and within a month, this brother of mine cracked the screen. It still works but it has this black blob right in the middle, pretty unsightly. My dad recently remembered that he had bought it for him and was asking why he hardly used it anymore, considering it was only a few months old. My brother would slyly dodge that bullet and say it was dead. Well, yesterday my dad wasn’t having that. He wanted to see it. Let it charge all day but he wanted to see it switched on. Long story short, my brother switched it on, my mum saw the black blob and asked what it was, my brother had the guts to say it was a customisation he’d done to the screen. If it wasn’t such an intense moment, I might have rolled on the floor with laughter. Soon after, my dad pointed to me and this followed:

“Your sister doesn’t lie! She might give you the run-around but she’ll get to the truth eventually! Why can’t you be more like your sister? Bolade (my Nigerian name, by the way. Pronounced bo-la-dey), talk to your brother and find out what his problem is.”

Am I Crimewatch, people?

I like being a big sister, I do. I am protective of my brother because, after all, he’s the only sibling I have and I do hate seeing him in trouble but jeez. This must be a problem a lot of fellow older siblings face. I can complain about this from morning ‘til night but this is a just a responsibility for life, I suppose.

But besides that, I have a cold and I’m feeling rather slow, if you couldn’t already tell. I need to beat this before Christmas Day or how am I going to chow down effectively? Pray for me, please. I can’t not induce myself into a state of comatose due to over-eating this year. It breaks the tradition.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

No rant, this itself feels rather rant-y.

Oh and my exam on Friday went alright. My friend caught someone cheating throughout the whole thing. Just casually scrolling on his phone under the desk. Best believe, she reported his hairy self.

Song of the Week – Uptown Funk (Featuring Bruno Mars) – Mark Ronson (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPf0YbXqDm0) & G.O.M.D – J. Cole (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MY2P8cURs5s)

Quote of the Week –


If I Were A What?

I have an exam on Friday and now, university is really becoming real. I know what it’s like to sit in the library for 4 hours straight and read until your eyes feel sore. I know what it’s like to almost feel dependent on energy drinks (shout out to Red Bull, Monster and Relentless). I know what it’s like to not be able to sleep until 3 in the morning, knowing you have a deadline to meet and several topics to cover. I know how tempting and delighting it feels to want to binge watch The Walking Dead and How To Get Away With Murder, simply pushing your responsibilities out the window. I know what procrastination is. But hey, that’s life. Can I also point out that my university seems to be the only university in the whole world that is still open? Pray for me, for thou art this close to losing thou shit.

Anyway, that’s not what I’m here to talk about.

I was walking down one of the many stairwells in my university with my friend and out of the blue, she asked me if I had written this week’s blog post yet. The following transcript, more or less, sums up what came next:

A: “What would you do if you were a boy?”

G: “That’s so random, why would you ask me that?”

A: “That’s how I am, I’m random.”

G: “Well. I would bang my way through a bunch of girls. I’d have a million girls numbers saved on my phone as babe number 1, babe number 2…”

A: “Oh gosh.”

G: “Seriously.”

A: “That should be your blog post.”

Well, A, you got me thinking.

Before someone threatens to lynch me, I was JOKING. But then, I realised that I only said that because it’s a reality. A very possible and very real one. Too many boys like this exist, I can scream this from the rooftops and no one would bat an eyelid because it has been this way for, well, forever. It’s shitty, I know. Not all boys are like this, I’m aware of this but too many are like this. Do you know how many times I hear boys speculating over the body of a girl as she walks past? Or how many times, a fleet of boys turn their heads simultaneously as a girl walks by? I’m all for grabbing someone’s attention, I’m all for strutting what your mama gave you but what about personality? What about what she likes to do in her spare time, what her favourite colour is?

If I were a boy, I would be 6 feet tall (hopefully), I’d be that dark-skinned hunk that makes every single girl go weak at the knees. I’d be that guy because hello, who wouldn’t want to be that guy? But I wouldn’t ogle at girls (or at least, I’d try), I wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I’d start conversations, I’d sit next to you or anyone who looked lonely and get to know you. I wouldn’t make you feel as if I wanted sex from you or was wondering how large your breasts were or how you looked naked, no. I would genuinely be interested in how your day went and how you were finding university and becoming your friend first. I wouldn’t make it my mission to nudge my boys as you walked by to make sure they were aware of how your ass moves as you walk. I might not even tell my boys about you because you’re not a conquest, you’re just a friend.

But then I remember that’s not going to happen because damn, who does that? I mean, I may be a boy but I’m not a freaking angel. I am Nigerian. It’s in the blood.

Why is Beyoncé the featured image? Why shouldn’t she be? Who doesn’t need to see Queen Bey grab her crotch? Hello?


On my course, I have zero guy friends. I say hi to two of them regularly-ish. One of them is so timid, I feel I might send him into cardiac arrest whenever I smile at him. The other is totally on to me (this isn’t even a matter of wishful thinking or paranoia. He is on to me. Ask anyone) and it is beyond obvious that a friendship cannot exist without it inevitably leading to undesirable territory. I want a guy friend, okay? In fact, no. I just want a friend who happened to be a male. Who was my age, who went to university with me, who didn’t see me as anything but a friend, who I could have intellectual conversations with and send ugly snapchats to without feeling I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. Who could come to Starbucks with me and my friends or who I could go to wherever he wanted to go with his friends without there being this unspoken sexual tension hovering over our heads. I want. I am wanting, deeply.

I know people like this exist, platonic relationships exist. They cannot all be extinct, surely?

To my future boy bestie who will not eventually become the love of my life, this is my message to you: I will look for you, I will find you and I will befriend you.


Mini Rant of the Week: PERSONAL SPACE. I don’t think I can stress this vital aspect of life enough. We all have a bubble and this bubble is fundamental. This bubble protects us from ghastly scents of B.O, Ebola-laced coughs, dangerously motile dandruff and just helps us keep a hold on sanity. What really and truly pisses me off are members of society who walk right into my bubble when they have absolutely no reason for doing so. I’m standing at a platform and you come and walk within millimetres of my body when there is ample space for you to walk. What is the meaning of that? Can’t you see? Are you asking me to trip you up because it would be beyond a dream come true to extend my foot a few inches more and send you flying, it really would. Don’t invade the bubble. You’ve been warned.

Song of the Week: More like, album of the week. J. Cole’s “2014 Forest Hill Drive” was released last week and it’s really good. I’m loving how albums nowadays tell stories. It reminds me of Kendrick Lamar’s “Good Kid M.A.A.D City”, not production wise but progression wise. Everything gels. Preview it here, it’s gooood – https://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/2014-forest-hills-drive/id940845223

LION BABE – Jump Hi (Feat. Childish Gambino) it’s really really good too (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHqsE2EOpJE)

Quote of the Week: “Don’t give ‘em too much you. Don’t let ‘em taint your soul.” – J. Cole

Georgina x

(P.S. 10 more days and it’s Jesus’ birthday, omg.)

(P.P.S. I got my second ear piercings on Thursday, am I a rebel or what?)

So That’s What It Feels Like…

My maternal grandmother has a bitter kola addiction. She pops them in her mouth like Skittles. Whenever I’m at her house in Lagos, she always has a handful by her side at all times. When she’s on the move, she has a few stashed in her hand bag. She’s a very cultured woman, don’t get me wrong but she’s indigenously invested simultaneously. She uses chewing sticks even though she brushes her teeth with a toothbrush in the mornings. She likes to sit on the floor and sift through melon seeds (egusi, if you’re about it) even though you can get them cleaned and safe to cook from the shops anyway. My mum always nags her to give up the kola as it’s “mashing up her teeth and God knows what else” but my grandma always replies with “it’s what’s going to kill you that you want to eat” (She says it in Yoruba but that’s the direct-ish translation).

I was in my home, being mindlessly vacant when I had an epiphany. Okay, maybe not an epiphany but a realisation. You know when something just clicks?

I think everyone has or has had or will have that person or that thing that you want to keep around even though deep down, you know there isn’t a plausible future for either of you. You know that this thing or this person has been accompanied with a million and one warning signals, people left right and centre have been yelling “He/She/It is no good for you! Run, b*tch, RUN!” but you’ve just been there, wondering what the hell the fuss was about. You’re the one going “But, look at how cute they are. Look at how happy they make me. Can’t you see this smile? This wasn’t there before, you know this!” You justify the bullshit they’ve brought about for the moments of delight they’ve also brought about. He/she/it is what you want to eat despite the fact that he/she/it is no good for you. But then, the penny absolutely causes an outright explosion as it drops. Everything finally makes sense. Nothing necessarily has to offset this lucidity but when you notice what’s going on, you finally see that everyone screaming at you to run just had your best interest at heart.

Honesty hour, remember my post 2 weeks ago where I mentioned falling in love? I’m not going to say “I’ve seen the light, I wasn’t in love!” because that would be lying but what I will say is I know that I am not ending up with him. You know sometimes, you think you and a particular someone will drift in and out of whatever it is you guys are calling it nowadays (a relationship? A thing?) but ultimately become that couple who says “we’ve weathered hell and high waters but we made it. We ended up together”. But I KNOW that isn’t happening. I don’t know what made me have this eye opener but I’ve had it and there’s going back.

It feels good to finally be on the same wavelength as my brain and my heart. Cohesion is powerful. Cohesion is beautiful. You don’t feel like anything is lacking, you don’t see yourself surrounded by a lifetime’s supply of Ben & Jerry’s whilst Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away” is vigorously being repeated in the background of your miserable existence.

I’m making a pre-New Year’s resolution to myself: I’m going to be real. I’m going to be honest and transparent with myself and with my audience because there’s no integrity or necessity in faking it. I almost wrote a blog post on 20 facts about Christmas that I was prepared to spend my Sunday night researching but hey, looks like being open was the better option. The whole point of this blog is to see how I grow and in order for there to be growth, I have to be real. Like, aggressively real. “Jesus, take the wheel” has become my saying and when I say it, I actually do mean it but today, Jesus has really taken it. Keep steering, Lord. Keep steering.

Mini Rant of the Week: I don’t think the fact that I’m in university has sunk in for a lot of people including my mother. This morning, I was getting ready to leave my house and I was tying my shoelaces on my brand new Huaraches (I know, I was sucked in to the phenomenon that is Nike and I did what almost every newly inducted student does, I spent a small fortune on a pair of trainers. But they’re so damn comfortable) and my mum said “hmm, be prepared for the flood of compliments as you walk into college today.” Quickly, I said “I’m not going to college, I’m a university student” because hey, everyone has a slip of tongue every now and again so it could have been an honest mistake. But then you know what my mother said? She said “yeah, whatever.” Has there been some role reversal that I’m not aware of or since when has my mother giving me stage 2 oh-my-gosh-mum-leave-me-alone attitude become a thing?! Fine, I find myself making that mistake too, I say I’m going to college but then I mentally bite myself and grind “no, you’re going to university” into my cerebellum. Well, I know what’s going to solve this mistake everyone keeps making one too many times. I’m moving out next year. Simple.

Song of the Week – Everybody Nose – N*E*R*D (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBhXO40uO7g)

Quote of the Week – “Rather than cramming Christmas carols down my auditory canals, I’m vigorously jamming to Jill Scott and Major Lazer.” – Georgina D (Yes, I’m quoting myself. I come up with some real gems occasionally, okay?)