My head hurts. The constant pain descends through my cheekbones and radiates through my entire top jawline in agony that has refused to subside in the last three days. I am meant to be working right now, furiously racing to hit that deadline and make sure that IT gets out on time and correct. I am tired, numbed and therefore uncaring.
That spot right between my shoulder blades feels like a giant has is fingers pressed non-too-gently to the nape of my neck and just Digging. Right. In. Repeatedly. I feel the sleep of a thousand nights would never be enough to resuscitate the energy that has given its last gasp.
I need a holiday
Some (not-so-)서울 (Seoul) Music: Imma Be by the Black Eyed Peas. Most of the tune is banging. That last bit though? Almost kills it for me. Definitely for the clubs
'Wot's the prahblem wit me Accent?'
Nigerians can be insecure people, I noticed. While we have much to be proud of as a Nation (and on the flip side, much to be ashamed of) on an individual level we sometimes confront people needlessly due to insecurities projected unto another.
Consider someone I met recently: well dressed, great job, obviously in a far better position than I, the grubbily dressed (stain on my trousers I did not care to change) writer-slash-gopher (I was actually mistaken for my boss's Personal Assistant). She, in a word, was unpleasant. A person who got upset at me for having a pleasant conversation with a couple of Scotsmen in her establishment. Later my boss tried to explain her attitude away with "you returnees who come back with accents". Is THAT it? A half pseudo-American, half pseudo-british accent?
Here's how I got my accent: when I was in secondary school, books of a certain kind, namely sweet valley's and M&B's were banned because it gave us girls "dangerous ideas". I'm all for the notion when it comes to romance novels and impressionable 13 to 16 year olds, but sweet valley was a tad far. As a last resort i read the dictionary. Not just the words but the pronunciation keys as well. I taught myself diction, candence, and pretty much how to learn to read new words. Throw in my love of television and by the time I was in my final year of high school, most people could not place my accent, though I had been born, raised and fully educated on the African continent. I headed to college in the States, which allowed me to polish off my Americanese and did a couple of years in the UK which brought out a little more British in my accent. Catch me on a good day and my accent vacilates wildly between American twang and British tweed, but it is all sexy ;).
Other than the voice, I ain't nothin' special. No appreciable amounts of money, no fame, no wealth, no particular skills to speak of. Now why would anyone be threatened by me? If I were given to bouts of jealousy--I'm not as it is such a waste of time better spent doing things I like--it should be vice versa. Instead she felt she had to be rude and dominating and awful. Let's be sure of one thing though; she might certainly get much farther than I in this world, but not in the hospitality business where true humility and genuine sense of obligation to those you work with temper any sense of overblown ego and hubris.
She needs to be secure in herself and what she has, it is great. I am certainly no threat. My mother (my own sainted mother, I tell you!) told me I lack ambition, as cold as that statement is, it is for all intents and purposes, true. I hate competition, unless it is to acheive personal goals I've set myself, and that has not happened nearly often enough lately, hence the languishing in Lagos. All in all, people need to grow up and get over themselves.
Some Seoul (서울) Music: 전화하지마/'Do Not Call' by Namolla Family, a fantastic trio of guys with featuring Tae In who's feminine lilt adds a sense of longing. Great voice blending, great pop music.
Labels: fake accents , Jealousy , self image
Mosh!
Lil’ Wayne is busy on screen screaming into his vocoder about his revenge on the prom queen who jilted him when he was an overly tattooed disaffected teenager. If only she could have seen past all that ink, to the sweet lollipop goodness that lay beyond. I’m pretty sure that the confection was referring to his soul. Who wouldn’t want to lick lil’ Wayne’s soul?
The vid, kind of like the song, had a rock concert vibe to it, which had me reminiscing about my Nickelback concert days. Way back when I was a spring chicken—a.k.a. my salad days—I loved me my concerts and used to go to one pretty much every summer. It was usually Nickelback as they were my favourite band until some moron, I have no idea whom, went and told them that drenching their songs with lurid lyrics and crappy feel good lines which have no place being together on the same album, was a good idea.
These concerts were an absolute ton of fun. I remember going to the opening of some club (I forget the name it’s been so long, waaaaaaaaaaaah) with my real good friend Jaynee while I was job hunting in the Twin Cities the summer after I graduated from college. The two tickets cost about $120 bucks and we went there, dressed like it was summer out, but it was cold as shit.
Default was the opening band, and after running through some rather forgettable songs, they played their greatest hit ‘Wasting My Time’. By this time, I was half way to planet ‘plastered-beyond-all-recognition’ and had had several inappropriate conversations with absolute strangers who also felt totally comfortable poking my decently covered but ginormous ‘jubblies’ for fun.
Then the main act came on stage. By this time the air-conditioning had totally given up the ghost and the air was like a thick sludge. The club, which was filming the crowd, had huge screens showing the crowd through a fog-like haze of sweat coming off all the bodies in there. They had to bring out tons of water to cool the crowd down. All I remember was shoving my way to the front, to get as close to Chad ‘really hot’ Kroeger, pressing ever forward and moshing like there was no tomorrow. I drooled over the drummer, got soaking wet and had a fabulous time. All in all it was bloody fantastic.
This year, in NYC, Cali, and a whole bunch of other cities I am nowhere near, my fave hip hop group Epik High flew all the way from Korea to host a series of concerts. Totally missed them and now I am very sad :’(. I wish to mosh once more, to sweat in tandem with a thousand other people while screaming out the lyrics to tracks that are oldies-but-goodies, and listen when they try out new tracks on ya.
Some Seoul Music: Ibadi is just an all-around fabulous band, the side venture of Clazziquai's female lead. Akin to Nora Jones in musical style, her voice just blows me out the water, not with power, but with depth. Here's Morning Call a pretty, lilting tune, great for the car...
Labels: concerts , Epik High , Ibadi , lil' wayne , mosh , Nickelback