Posts

Thankful for: Progress: After moaning on and on about being seemingly at a stand still my grad school applications appear to be moving again - received admission documents to the Welding Engineering program at Kirkland Lake, my Nigerian transcripts and references I’d requested from one of my old mates back in Nigeria. Timely pick-me-ups: My small circle of friends comes through time and time again. This time I am thankful for the one buddy who responded to my (admittedly attention seeking :p tweet) about hurtling on, my cryptic expression for the phase of life where I feel like I am at a stand still. There was a whole back story to that, but I’m thankful for the listening ear. Knowledgeable others: That I remain single is not for want of trying on my friends’ parts. Even though it sometimes feels like meddling, I have to admit it gives me a wee boost to know that they feel like I have unique selling points that will improve the lives of their sisters, nieces and best friends. :) That’s my reason and I’m sticking to it.

In what must be a first for me, I get invited to a birthday party over WhatsApp. Truth be told, there were mitigating circumstances. Although the parent in question and I have some tenuous familial connection - my grand father and her grand mother somehow managed to get entangled in the far distant haze that is a few generations ago - she and I haven’t stayed much in touch, in spite of us living the the small matter of the length of Union Street apart. I suppose the invitation was one last hopeful punt in my direction. If it was, it worked, the twin attractions of something to do on a Saturday afternoon and proper Nigerian food proving too strong for even I the quintessential recluse. Izzy, the kid in question had just turned One, and her parents keen to celebrate the milestone were putting together a small get together for the guys; for that I was very much a willing eater. ...

[Source] I seem to have the knack for choosing the shittiest days to go offshore. Last November I end up stuck for an extra three days, thanks to Ambisagrus going berserk and my helicopter flight getting cancelled. Speaking to the heli-admin late on Monday as I confirm my booking, I have her take a quick look at the weather forecast; she confirms there are no extraordinary weather events forecast for the rest of the week. Satisfied, I confirm my check-in time and head out to pack my bags and plan. ...

Three years ago, I was really bitter about my Nigeria experience. Not a lot had changed since then, and arguably the country in general is in worse shape with a President more content to remain in power than effect change from the looks of it, and committing gaffes by the dozen… Sigh.

Although it is only September, there has been a certain nippiness to the last few Aberdonian mornings. If I believed the weather app on my phone – and the state of my ears when my brisk twenty minute walk ends with my bum at my office desk suggests that this is the case - it has barely been warmer than 7 deg C on each of the last few mornings I have walked in to work. Besides the early morning chill, fall has remained frustratingly true to type; too warm to warrant breaking out the full shebang of a knee length winter coat, but yet too cold to be out and about with only a wind breaker for protection. If how many people already sport winter coats is anything to go by, I’m up there in the upper 10% in the hardiness stakes. When it slips out in an unguarded moment of banter with my mother, she thinks it is silly. I suspect all it will take to prove her right is coming down with the flu, if history is any judge, a clogged nose awaits me in the not too distant future. ...

For the prompt Breakfast at the Magpie Tales Breakfast, 1921, Fernand Leger hold your head- steady between your hands; bow your head as though in supplication- and let the strong, sweet scent slowly wafting up- hit you. see your face- faint silhouette, three day stubble, matted hair- and tired eyes reflected in the cup and bow in reverence to its quickening power. wrap your hands around its base and feel the warmth. drink deep, swirl it's dregs in your mouth's backparts and let the waves of unfettered joy course through your veins give in - and kneel in full surrender to the joy of your dark, black cup.

WHEN MY MOTHER was angry with me, which was often, she said, ‘The Devil led us to the wrong crib' So begins Jeanette Winterson’s autobiography, a meditation of sorts on growing up adopted and the descent into dystopia that was her childhood; spent growing up in a Pentecostal home being groomed to be a missionary. It is a childhood that is quintessentially evangelical, replete with very regular church meetings, Biblical literalism, corporeal punishment and a feening for the apocalyptic dawn of the next world to the detriment of the enjoyment of this one. Looming large in that phase of growing up is the image of her adoptive mother, a controlling creature, intensely fundamentalist and addicted to her cigarettes, who both in her quiet moments and in her moments of rage ruled the roost,with the young Jeanette and her adoptive father as collateral damage. Being adopted, and the uncertainties this brings to family relations is a recurring motif in the book, and her successful search to find her birth mother takes us through an emotional wringer. ...

Three quarters of the way through the year, I find I still have just under three weeks of holidays left - and that does not include the productivity black-hole that is the last week of December when all and sundry truly grinds to a halt. Once again, in spite of my plans to not be in this situation, I have ended up hoarding holidays again, the plan being to use them as a make weight in lieu of notice as my plan to swap cold, windy, Aberdeen for the slightly warmer, but more rural climes that are Kirkland Lake. The BossMan has made it clear there will be no carry overs this year, and he has made sure to ping the appropriate warning email in my direction in addition to the automated ones sent by our holiday tracking software. All told after one too many reminders, I log on to Teamseer and fire off holiday requests for an extended weekend. ...

It was my birthday a few weeks ago, and what should have been a routine, barely noticeable bump on the flat line that has become the ultra predictable, safety first, thirty-something year old life that is my lot somehow morphed into a swirling mess of mildly depressive emotions. The trigger was an epiphany of sorts, one that I had no business having. If having that epiphany was odd, where it hit was even odder - midway through my morning ablutions, just before the commode gave way to a four minute duel with sensodyne and a power toothbrush. Leading up to it, I was stoking along nicely, keeping up with my annual birthday ritual - deactivating my facebook account, turning off all but my private phone and lobbing a text message in the direction of the one friend I know whose birthday is in the same week as mine. ...