Ifehenia's blog

Recently I surprised a friend of mine with the knowledge that Beyonce is not only married, but now has a daughter (who she named for me... not that you will believe me). It is amazing really, how removed from culture some people can be! I can't judge him too harshly. You see, I just now watched Pretty Woman. And, by Jove (high school English has to be put into some use!), it may just have trumped 'My Sassy Girl' to get the coveted spot as my favorite romantic comedy of all time.  This outfit! Admit it, it gives you ideas for the next Halloween..  I have heard the fairy tale, but watching it still blew my mind away. To think that the original script was a cautionary tale on the vagaries of drugs and prostitution. It was written for a film called '3000' that would have ended in Julia Roberts getting kicked to the curb and having money thrown at her. Kind of what would happen in REAL life! Instead romantic comedy came of age then. I have maintained that t

Fun || Paramore Funny how they call it the pearl of Africa when there are no street lights. Aren't pearls supposed to be brilliant? Don’t mind me, I am not in the best mood at the moment. I have to get down to writing some reports for work… and I am actually glad for the chance to put all my concentration into that and not have to think about anything else. I’ll probably be able to push that into the better part of the weekend. And when that is done I can pour my heart and soul into cooking and making small meals for next week. I can also clean compulsively. Unfortunately, I braided my hair on Wednesday so I can’t turn the next idle day into wash day. What I am trying to put across is how mundane my life can be. Strangely enough, 12 hours ago my life seemed pretty great and interesting and I couldn't wait for the weekend to begin. I had almost forgotten how that one person has the power to turn my most exciting day into another grey one using a simple statement, “Sorry

We all have our demons, some darker than others. Some easier to exorcise than others... to each their own. We try to hide them from those we care about, those that look up to us.... those whose opinions matter. We try to hold them at arm's length, to keep them from gazing into our eyes and seeing the demons trapped within. But once in a while... once in a lifetime, perharps, we run into that person who won't listen. That one who won't stay at arm's length... That one who holds your face and stares right into your eyes... right at your demons... and forces you to look at the demons hidden within their own eyes. And when we find them... that one person, then we finally realize that we are not alone... that we need not hide anymore... that finally someone understands us. Some days the demons rage and roar... and it is hell. But that person still remains there. On other days we feel as if we can't stand their demons. We allow ourselves to drift

  "Between writer's block; the distraction that is Twitter; and this guy who keeps brushing against my computer on his way past and disconnecting it, I feel as if the world has conspired to ensure I don't post this." I suppose that the world had conspired against my post because I typed that sentence a week ago before proceeding to stare at a blank screen till now. But guess what, the Muse has smiled again.I woke up feeling young and carefree. Yes, it was a gloomy Friday morning and I still had a 2 hour long test to sit for, but life felt ultimately good. But no matter how good I feel, I will never be reduced to living by the motto YOLO. Same goes for declaring TGIF jubilantly on every other Friday. I will not be reduced to this state because I firmly believe that those two acronyms show just how far gone Generation Y is. Yes, you'll only live once. Big deal, so will everyone. The fact that its taken you 18,19,20 something years to realize this fact doesn'

2nd September 2012. Today will go down in history, or at least in my own personal history, because today is the day that my baby brother takes his first step towards 'drinking at the table of men'. He was flipping through the channels on TV when he said with a snort, "Puh! Nothing on but soap operas!" Time froze for a moment. I wanted to hug him with tears in my eyes but I feared this show of big-sister-mother-bear affection would reverse what was now the first sign that he would grow up normal. So instead I remained outwardly calm and commented that Sundays were usually like that...an all-you-can-bear buffet of soaps and wedding shows. I have to admit that my baby   small brother had begun to worry me a little. He was all of 12-going-on-to-13 and whereas I had taken, knowing all the words to most High School Musical ballads; watching Hanna Montana religiously every evening on KTN; and (by far the most worrisome trait) having an insatiable appetite for Mexican s