The Land of Do-It-Yourself

Apologies for the break in transmission.

I've been preparing for a research conference, and then travelling home to Lagos, Nigeria to see one of my closest friends from undergrad get married. (While I was gone, Jewy was getting traumatized by well-meaning new friends taking her to unexpected shopping destinations. She's in recovery.) After two weeks in the land of guguru and epa, I'm glad to be back in the land of "milk and honey". Too bad it's also the land of Do It Yourself :-(

For the past few days, despite the fact that I have been sick, I've had to drive myself (reluctantly) everywhere to run my errands, prepare and/or order my own meals, wash my own dishes, and pay a ton of bills, since it's month end. Last week Saturday I left my room and returned an hour later to find that my sister's steward had switched out my sheets to be laundered and made my bed. In contrast, by the end of the day tomorrow, I'm pretty sure my sheets will be in the same crumpled state that I'd have left them in the morning, and I will be the one huffing and puffing as I lug them to the basement to wash. Don't be alarmed - I'm not lazy, and I've been happily doing all of these myself for the past few years. It's the very fact that I'm so unaccustomed to such "luxury" that makes the return to reality all the more jarring.

As with all things America, coming back is always a bittersweet experience. I'm glad to have the rule of law and not have to pay sketchy, negotiable fines based on arbitrary rules of where a parking zone ends, but I miss my siblings, nieces and nephews, and friends. I'm glad to have my bed and house back, but I will miss my sis-in-law's moi-moi and the general state of having older siblings present, to whom I can present random requests that I would normally take care of myself (otherwise known as, mo ma n yo si won l'orun). I'm glad to no longer be hot and sweaty (and getting at least two shades darker, as Jewy gleefully pointed out) but I have to steel myself against the cold once more.

I'm glad to be back, but I'll always miss home. After all, it's the only place where I'm not regarded by the government as an alien - be it resident for tax purposes or not.

Who's the workout junkie now?

Jewy woke me up this morning with the heavy bass and strong beats of Jillian Michael's 30-day shred.

At the crack of dawn. "Move. You have to work off those calories. You can't just take the stairs! That is a false message of lethargy" Jillian was yelling. I could not believe my ears.

I had been up from 1.00 till like 3.30am, so I just wanted to sleep a little more. So of course, I sent her a BBM to turn it down. Which she didn't notice till she was done half an hour later. Or so I thought.

Apparently I am a text addict for sending the message instead of leaving the comfort of my warm cozy bed.

I'm working out at 1.00am tonight. Right when she goes to bed and is ready to sleep.

:P

Text addict

I think Owumi may require a text grant at this rate or possibly we may need a telecom mast soon in the house.

So I wake up this morning to get my blood pumping a little faster with a lil help from Jillian. In all that chaos, all the moral support I could get from my  roomie was a bb msg saying, "Pls turn that down, I hate you!!" How inspiring, I am happy she got punished cos unknowingly  I turned it higher for motivation.

Next time you have an important message, ERUPT from your bed and say it! We are in the same house, u american!

Shop-a-holic

Jewy has discovered online shopping. Ebay, Amazon, Aldoshoes.com...

Since she moved in, we've been getting packages pretty much every other day. Phones, phone parts, shoes, boots...

Today she graduated to online shopping 201: she discovered online shopping returns.

I bet I could charge some shoes to her card and she wouldn't even notice the difference. Hehe.

9.00am shopping

Jewy came into my room this morning to ask for my opinion on black winter boots.

I gave my opinion.

She proceeded to stay another 41 minutes browsing through shoes, her laptop on my leg and bed, talking to me while I tried to make it obvious I just wanted to be left alone before I had to go to class.

Make that 44 minutes. She's still here.

Introverts unite. Extroverts, aaargh.

Potato like yam

Owumi accused me of peeling potato like yam. 

In my defense, we don't have a potato peeler. 

In her defense, a potato the size of a tennis ball became the size of a golf ball after I finished peeling it. 

"Ma ge bi is u o" she said. "O n ge bi isu! Ye ge bi isu!" 

Errr... yeah. I had no idea what she was talking about. 

Work out junkie

"Jewy! I'm tired! I can't feel my legs! I think this is really too much for beginners. I need tylenol. I may stop this class"

Twenty minutes later: 

"Day 3, done! Woot woot!" 

Who does that? 

She says she's trying to lose weight. I think she's just addicted to working out at this point.

Engineering and Public Policy

My roommate takes the "public policy" portion of her major soooo seriously. 

She's always on CNN, cracking up on Colbert Report, yelling at Fox News. Even when she's supposed to be asleep (See American mode below)

I think she thinks she's Michelle Obama. Or at least related to her somehow. 

Showers

My roommate stays in the shower for at least an hour.

She says her actual shower is like 25 minutes, but still. What is she doing in there?

I'm pretty sure her skin is semi-cooked, from the length of the shower and the temperature of the hot water. I pray not to smell barbecue from the bathroom one day. Please say Amen if you love Owumi.

American mode part II

My roommate often goes in her room, closes the door and falls asleep super early. Or she says she's asleep. Who knows? I wonder if she falls asleep or just locks her door. I call this her in "American mode." 

When she's close to coming out, she stops being quiet. 

"Owumi" 

"I'm asleep"

That usually means, "Yes, come in". "I'm not here" also means the same thing. 

Permission not granted

My roommate keeps asking me if she can do things after she has done them.

After sticking her size 8.5 foot in my size 7.5 pumps. "Is it okay if I put my foot in it?"

After coming in my room. "Is it okay if I come in?"

After grabbing my charger and plugging her phone in. "Is it okay if I use your charger?"

It's as if an unnecessary politeness circuit triggers in her brain after the fact. I can't complain though - her hair cream and flat iron live permanently in my room.